Monday, April 23, 2012

"The Facebook" and old people part one: The fact that you call it that tells me you're not ready.

We all know that old people have trouble with any device that plugs into a wall, needs batteries, or has the letter i in front of it. But the place we notice it more than usual is on Facebook.

Source: motivatorscompanyblog.com

They presumably join for the same reasons that we do--to keep in touch with friends they've only met once and family they've never met, broadcast intimate details of their lives, and post cat videos. But while we young people are aware of the awkward, uncomfortable, weird and terrible things that Facebook seems to magnetically attract, old people simply do not. Thus, Facebook is a treasure trove of awkward old-person moments.

The first mistake many of the elderly make on Facebook is misunderstanding well-known text speak. This is a tricky problem because old people LOVE text speak; it makes them feel so hip. Poor dears. They often believe that common acronyms stand for the exact opposite of what they mean. For example, many old people believe that lol stands for "lots of love." It generally doesn't go well for them.

You have to at least commend them for trying.

Old people are particularly prone to sharing the sparkly pink spam of the social network world: tired old copy-n-paste messages that no one likes to read, which are always ridiculously cheesy or nonsensical. The sad truth is that they have latched on to an archaic email gimmick which should be left back in 2003 with other silly email fads.
They also seem fond of posting those cutesy, emotionally manipulative stories that belong back in your Yahoo inbox.
For some reason, teenage girls are pretty fond of those too.

Another misdemeanor old people commit on Facebook is taking everything seriously. EVERYTHING. For some reason, they don't recognize that people of younger generations enjoy sarcasm, irony, and quoting obscure songs.

I think they may actually be better off living in blissful ignorance of things like brain-killing music videos.

And of course, there's the subtle but ever-present mistake old people make on Facebook: revealing their confusion about Facebook... on Facebook.

Check back soon for more on Facebook and old people!

NOTE: All Facebook statuses and such were created by me. Any resemblance to the stuff your grandma puts on Facebook is coincidental, but kind of awesome.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Happy finals week!

And may the odds be ever in your favor.


P.S. I'm GRADUATING shortly and am in desperate need of interesting blogs to read. Have any suggestions?

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Bug karma

I have a long and troubling history with bugs. I think it's mostly my fault. When I was five, my brother and I liked to stomp on the ants in my grandma's driveway. 


Now, I don't necessarily believe in karma, but I really think bugs are out to get me. They want me to suffer for what I did; suffer for murdering hundreds of innocent ant families with their ant babies who never stood a chance against a giant four-year-old. So a few years after the senseless violence, I had my first horrifying run-in with bugs.

My brother and I were digging in the dirt on the side of our house with a little plastic shovel, trying to find treasure, or at least something interesting. We found this weird little gray blob that looked like a sack.


 So we did what any self-respecting children would do: we poked it with the shovel.


The blobby little sack tore open and black stuff started coming out.


It turns out that the black stuff was spiders. 


Lots of spiders. Lots of evil, angry, tiny spiders spilling out of the sack and scuttling on their tiny horrible legs towards us.

THERE WERE HUNDREDS OF THEM.


I still have nightmares about this, guys.

I was convinced for a long time that it couldn't get any worse than that, but let me tell you: IT DID. The next horrifying run-in with vindictive bugs happened when I was an angsty teenager. One morning as I woke from a peaceful sleep, I heard this little scratching sound by my ear. It was quiet, but had the alarming quality of sounding like something that was alive and invading my personal space. As soon as I found the source, I was already in grave peril.

The was a bug on my pillow, headed straight for my mouth. That's right; a bug tried to sacrifice itself in the name of revenge by CRAWLING INTO MY MOUTH.


Although I escaped having the bug enter my mouth, I didn't trust my pillow for a long time. Or mattress. Or any of the house.

You're probably convinced that it couldn't get any worse than that, right? Unfortunately for both of us, IT DID.

In seventh grade science, all the biology teachers gave their students a project in order to appreciate how sciencey nature is. All the merciful teachers with sense assigned their students to create a leaf collection, to show the diversity and beauty of autumn leaves in our town. But MY teacher thought leaf collections were too boring, too lacking in adventure. He assigned us to create BUG COLLECTIONS (seriously, what kind of sick, twisted irony is that?).

Bug collections--it is exactly how it sounds. We were ordered to catch bugs (with our HANDS),


"humanely" kill them by freezing them (by our FOOD), 


and then stick pins through their crunchy, crackly little corpses to display them on some cardboard (ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh).


Needless to say, I forced my dad to do the entire project for me. Except for writing the labels. I did that like a champ.

Am I the only one that all the bugs in the world are targeting, or are there other victims out there? Although it will probably generate more content for awful nightmares, I must know: AM I THE ONLY ONE??

Saturday, April 7, 2012

The trouble with hugging

There are a lot of troubles with hugging.
When someone wants to give you a brief friendly upright cuddle, it's difficult to know exactly how they want to do it. Your arms up and theirs down? Their arms up and yours down? One arm up and one arm down each? 
Some people are abnormal and try to whip out one of those obscure, vaguely advanced hugging techniques. 


While these are all charmingly awkward, they are nothing compared to that most awkward hugging task: hugging a woman.

Women, you see, have anatomy. Bosoms, specifically. You have to be very careful navigating those waters.
Men only really have to worry about height differences here. If you're short and she's tall, your face might end up in an uncomfortable place. Socially speaking. I'm sure it's actually very comfortable.
But women have an added problem: if the two of you are the same size, your bosoms touch theirs. I don't know about you, but bosoms touching other bosoms feels... weird. It's too many squishy things being squished together.

The only way I know how to avoid these predicaments is to simply make sure your head is turned. If your face is at bosom-level, well, at least you won't look like a creepy weirdo. And if your bosoms are touching theirs, at least you aren't looking into each others' eyes.

... Let's never speak of this topic again.

Friday, April 6, 2012

No one is alone

Things like this make me proud to be a student (almost alumna!!) at BYU. I already posted this on Facebook, but in case you haven't seen this video yet, you really ought to watch it. It is a wonderful video made by BYU students about what it's like to be gay at BYU. I am so impressed by their courage. Their message of understanding and love is one that everyone can benefit from.


Also, here's an article about a recent panel held at BYU.