Quick Update

I've got a really great post about my cat obsession in the works, but I'm kinda busy at the moment with classes, work, the two student journals I volunteer for, and applying for internships; it's gonna be a while.

But, in the meantime, I've been published! Well, on another blog. Actually, it's the blog for one of the student journals that I'm working on: Stance for the Family.

Check it out: http://stanceforthefamily.byu.edu/my-brothers-mission-what-i-did-not-expect/

"What's in a name?"

I know, I know.  I suck at this blog lately.  I'm gonna try to be more dependable with my posts... maybe.  Maybe one day I'll just publish all of the drafts of unpublished posts on here and you guys can see just how much I filter this thing.  We'll see if this one makes it through the screening process.

ANYWAY...

I came about the topic of this post in a sort of roundabout way.  Let me explain.

No, there is too much.  Let me sum up. (Have I used this quote on here before?  It's highly possible.  I'm a sucker for a good Nacho Libre reference.)

I switched into a Shakespeare class today.  I was going to be taking Spanish this semester, but I realized pretty quickly that I just didn't think I could handle it (language classes here are really tedious).  I decided last night that the best solution was to push Spanish back to next Fall and pull my required Shakespeare class forward.  We're reading "The Taming of the Shrew" (not Romeo and Juliet.  Don't let the title of this post mislead you.  I'll get there.  I promise.  I hope.).

Meanwhile, I also work on the student journal for the linguistics department.  Actually, I'm the new Managing Editor!  But that's a random story for a different random blog post. Moving on, I was at the journal fair this afternoon trying to recruit some fresh meat, and I was talking to my Editor in Chief -or, rather, he was explaining to me- about the different uses of pronouns in Shakespeare and how the uses have sort of reversed since Shakespeare's time.  

Tonight, I got home and checked my facebook.  The first thing I saw was a post the Editor in Chief had made about the etymology of the word "apron".

Let me see if I can tie together my thinking process for you guys here.  I'm kind of confusing myself as I type it all out.  Basically, I started out this morning with a class on Shakespeare.  My thought process took a turn when the EC explained a connection between Romeo and Juliet and linguistics.  I'm not sure about you guys, but I can't think about Romeo and Juliet without thinking of  "That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet".  And then I saw the EC's post about the etymology of the word "apron".

Shakespeare-->Romeo and Juliet-->R&J name quote-->Linguistics-->Etymology= "What's in a name?"  Which then got me thinking about what's in my name.

Which is actually a subject that I've happily researched before!

Did any of that make sense?  I didn't really do a good job of "summing up".  A better summation probably would have been "I've been thinking lately about the etymology of my name".  But I spent a lot of time typing out that explanation above, so I'm not going to delete it.  Hopefully anyone who reads this post will instinctively gloss over the first six paragraphs or something.

So.  We've finally reached the actual subject of this post: my name.  

I'm pretty dang proud of my name.  

Apparently my mom had a roommate in college who was named Arianne.  My mom liked that name so much that she decided to give it to me, her firstborn child and daughter.  My dad went along with it because there was a song that he really liked about some girl named "Arianna".

I think some people dislike their names, or feel that their name doesn't match who they really are, but I have been blessed to never have those complaints.  However, I realized at a very young age that my name was not a common one.  For as long as I remember, I have had to repeat my name and explain its pronunciation to every teacher, babysitter, new friend, etc.  My mom taught me when I was little to tell people who had trouble with it that it was "Mary-Ann without the M".  I'm so used to people not saying my name right that I answer to just about anything that starts with a "A" and ends with a "n".  I've never really understood why people can't pronounce it, especially when it's written in front of them.  I definitely did not understand why the girl reading the announcements in middle school called me "A-ring-ha".  Sound it out, people!  When people butcher my name, I always think of this clip from Brian Regan:

Despite everyone else struggling with my name, I've always loved it.  However, the constant explanations that my name requires created a strong interest in learning more about my name.

So, one day after I got home from middle school, I googled the meaning.  I had a little trouble finding it at first, but then I discovered that my name comes from the name "Ariadne", a name everyone is familiar with now thanks to Inception.  I found two backgrounds.  The first was a story from Greek mythology about how a princess named Ariadne saves her true love, Theseus, from death-by-minotaur.  Theseus then proceeds to abandon Ariadne on a deserted island.  I chose to ignore the Greek background for a long time because I felt it was ominous for my future love life.  Instead, middle-school-me latched onto the French translation, which is "most holy".  This was further proof to the already firm belief of middle-school-me that I was incredibly special.   

My next move was to look up my brother's name and then rub in the fact that my name was "most holy" and his was "boy of the dale". 

I've long since abandoned my belief that I was holier than all y'all, but I have never lost the pride that I have of my name. I tell my mom frequently that it's a shame for my future daughters, because I refuse to name them after me, which means that they'll never have a name as cool as mine.

I guess that's the main point of this ridiculously rambling post.  I love my name.  I think it's swell.  I can't imagine being named anything else.

And to all the people who don't like their name, maybe you should look up where it comes from.  If you're lucky like me, it might have a pretty cool history!  Even if you have my brother's luck, at least you'll be a little more informed.  I encourage everyone to love their names, because I think loving your name helps you love yourself. 

Unless you're named Lemonjello or something equally ridiculous.  If that's you, you should be steadily working towards getting that changed so that you can stop being an urban legend.

"I made the match, you know.... and to have it take place, and be proved in the right... may comfort me for any thing" -Jane Austen, Emma

Well, guys, it's been a while.  And by a while, I mean a little over 5 months.  I admit, it's kind of a big gap.  Here's the thing - I don't like to post about super serious or personal things on this blog.  And for the past 5 months a lot of my attention was devoted to pretty serious and personal things and thoughts.  And the attention that I had left over was too tired out to put up anything on here.  I wrote a lot of drafts, actually.  I think a lot of people would be surprised by just how much I filter this blog.  But, anyway, I digress.

It's been a while.  So, before I get on with the topic of this post, let me tell you what's been going on with me for the past 5 months.

No, there's too much.  Let me sum up.

1. I finished my 6th semester at BYU.  (And then I realized that that makes me a senior.  And then I started freaking out A LOT.)

2. I took a leave of absence from the Creamery. (Can you take a "leave of absence" from a restaurant/grocery store? I can't say that I quit... I'm going right back there in the fall. (*Gasp* Arianne without the creamery?  Who even is she anymore without ice cream up her arms and nightmares about EFY rushes?))

3. I got a job at Aspen Grove! (Hence the leave of absence from the Creamery. (Ironically, my job up here is to work in the store.  I sell t-shirts and I scoop BYU ice cream.  I CAN'T GET AWAY.))

4. My younger brother, my only sibling, left to serve a mission.  (I'm really proud of him, but it's kind of bittersweet, ya know? (Plus, I have a feeling that a lot of the attention that was spent on helping him get to that point in his life is suddenly going to shift to me and getting me to my next point in life.  Which means that I am gearing up for an increase in dating advice/ pressure/ speculation from my parents and other various friends and family.))

Those are probably the biggest things that are worth sharing with the internet.

Now, onto your irregularly scheduled dose of my ponderings, speculations, and slightly ridiculous circumstances.

I realized the other day that I perhaps have a rather bad habit.  And that habit is MATCHMAKING.

I don't know why, but I enjoy other people's love lives a lot better than my own.  (Okay, I do know why.  Other people's love lives are lot less scary, stressful, and confusing.)  I love to help my friends find love.  And I love being right about who they fall for.

When I read Jane Austen's Emma (and then watched the 1996 and 2009 film adaptations, as well as the "Clueless" version), it felt a little bit like looking into a mirror - only the reflection wasn't necessarily of my outward appearance, but rather of my approach towards life.

   

I've come to realize, as Emma did, that matchmaking sometimes has unfavorable consequences.  Sometimes one of your friends gets rejected and then you feel super guilty.  Sometimes your two friends do hit it off, but then something goes wrong and they break up and then you feel guilty and like you have to pick a side.  Sometimes, your friends never break up and they live happily ever after and they forget all about little old you.  (Ok, so that one hasn't happened to me yet, but, honestly, what else should I expect when setting people up?)

Still, being aware of all of these consequences hasn't resulted in my stopping my matchmaking tendencies.  I think perhaps I've pulled back a bit.  I'm a little more cautious.  But I still end up doling out inordinate amounts of romantic advice to people. 

By the way, why the heck do you guys ask me/ listen to me?  I know I don't actually advertise this, but maybe it's time I did.  I have never had a boyfriend.  Unless you count elementary school ones.   I have almost zero experience of my own with guys.  I am completely clueless when it comes to that stuff.    And if you don't believe me, I would like to share this with you as well: There was once a guy who I went on like five dates with.  He also would randomly stop by my place all the time "just to say hi".  It wasn't until a whole year later when I woke up one day and thought, "Oh... I think he might have liked me.  Whoops".  But I digress.  Again.

I had a mini-panic attack today.  I've been teasing one of my friends about a mutual friend of ours for quite a long time (at least two years).  I really am convinced that they could be great together.  However, he's never really seemed to take it to heart and I figured that it would never be anything other than an inside joke between he and I.  (Or is it him and I?  I know I'm an English major, but I never get this one right.  Oh well.  Grammar Nazis, please spare me.)  So, the other day we were chatting, and I brought it up again.  And he laughed it off, again.  And I figured, same old, same old, right?  Wrong.  The next couple of messages I got from him over the course of the week were about her, and he definitely sounded like he was actually considering it this time.  My feelings on these developments were the oddest combination of elation, pride, and absolute horror.  Elation because, hey, they would be the cutest thing EVER.  Pride, because I was right!  And horror, because why now?  What if he only liked her because I had finally told him enough times that he should?  What if this was all because I felt like messing around with his love life instead of mine?  

OK, so, maybe the idea that I had caused this was pretty big-headed of me.  I don't think I'm actually that persuasive.  But I was pretty worried for a little bit that maybe people listened to the crap I spouted off more than I thought they did.

Luckily, they don't.  He kindly assured me that he had actually been thinking about this for a while.  My teasing had just gotten him to finally admit it to someone.  So you know, all's well that ends well I guess.  And some day when they're married with enough children to form their own debate team, they'll thank me for my meddling.

(And if my friend is reading this, I hope he is laughing and not freaking out.  I was really careful to not include any identifying factors in this tale.  So, it's still just me and you that know, buddy.)


But, I think this whole thing made me sort of turn a corner in my life.  I think I've finally reached the point where the stress levels of my own romantic expedtitions might be about the same as my interventions into the lives of my friends.


... And if the stress is the same, I might as well be a little more selfish with my energy, right?

Can I Just Be Old Already?

This last Friday I called my dad for a chat. When he asked me about what I had been up to, I told him the truth: school, homework, work, more homework, with some food and sleep mixed in. Then I asked him what he had been up to that day. His response was something along these lines:

"Well, today your mother and I went to boulder city and had breakfast. Then we went geocaching for a while. Then we got some lunch. Then we went to a car show. Then we went to Tony Roma's for dinner and we both had ribs. Now we're watching an episode of Inspector Barnaby."

It was one of these moments:

I'm sorry, I thought young people were supposed to have all the fun? Isn't that what old people are always telling me? Enjoy my youth while it lasts because with old age comes more stress or something? I'm not buying it. I'm pretty sure there's some sort of conspiracy going on here. All of the people ages 40 and up are spinning these terrible tales of adulthood to us young folk, while really it's full of delicious barbecued meat, field trips, and British murder mystery shows. Plus, there's a whole lot of other advantages to being old:

• You can wear whatever you want and it's ok. Because you're old.

• If you're nice, everyone likes you. If you're mean, a lot of people still like you because they think it's cute that you're mean and old at the same time.

• Old people can go to bed really early and no one thinks they're weird.
• Old people can stomach weird foods like rice pudding and yams.
• Old people can say really offensive things and people don't get mad because they figure the generation gap is at fault for the rudeness.
• Old people can get out of pretty much anything they don't want to do by simply saying, "Oh, I'm too old for that."

  Basically, that whole "I'm old and I can never have fun like young people again" thing? It's an act. It's just this facade that's been put up so young people don't figure out that they're really getting the short end of the stick in life. It's like that daycare in Toy Story 3, when all the new toys get shoved in with the slobbery and evil two year olds while the evil-stuffed-pink-bear-mob-boss guy lives it up across the hall with the nice, fun kids.
  

  
  

  My fellow young adults, WE have been shoved in the room with the slobbery and evil two year olds. And I guess that's life. I mean, supposedly, all the old people were young at some point. So we'll get to the nice, fun room in the daycare someday, right?
  

  Sometimes I just want one of these:

Or I could just wait.

I'm super excited to be old someday. I'm gonna wear muumuus. I'm gonna eat ribs every Friday and I'm not gonna put on any make up ever. I'm going to shake my purse at whippersnappers and get an awesome scooter to ride around in. It's gonna be AWESOME.

P.S. Mom, Dad, and various adults in my life... sorry for calling you "old".

Feelings of Forever - If my life was like Saturday's Warrior

Yesterday my friend K--- asked why I hadn't blogged in so long, and I told her the truth. The truth being that I have at least 5 half-written blog drafts saved on here that I never published because halfway through writing them I got bored and decided I didn't actually care what I was writing about. And, really, if I'm not interested in what I'm writing, who is going to be interested in reading it?

But, I told her I would find something to blog about soon. I wasn't sure what I was going to write about, but I was determined to find something. And lo and behold, today at lunch the topic of this post floated down to me from the heavens.

Today I met my future husband.

I was in line at L&T Salads and Soups with my dear friends J----- and A---. We were talking about various things, and I said that I really liked L&T because of such and such reason. And then this guy in front of me turned, looked at me, and opened his mouth to speak. And then it was like I was in Saturday's Warrior. You know, that part where the guys comes back from his mission and he brings the guy he baptized with him. And the RM's girlfriend is there waiting at the airport for him, but then she sees the guy he baptized and they recognize each other from the pre-existence and then they sing this song:

So if you trade out the weeping RM for J----- and A---, and trade out the baptized dude for L&T guy and the former girlfriend of the Elder for me, that's pretty much went down.

Well, almost anyway.

Actually, what went down was more like this:

Me: I like how big the wraps are here. It's like I'm buying lunch and dinner, all at once!

L&T guy: (sarcastically) I like how fast this line is moving.

Me: Hahaha, yeah! (thinking to myself, "Why did I pick today to skip doing my hair?")

Then we finally got to the front and were ordering our food.

L&T guy: You're ordering it with the spinach tortilla? No way, the tomato one is the best!

Me: Not with the Great Ceasar! Spinach is definitely the way to go.

L&T guy: Well, as long as you don't get the garlic tortilla. That one is gross! (I'm sure the L&T people appreciated that.)

Me: Haha, true!

And then he paid for his food and left. And then my friends and I paid for our food and went to find a table. And as we were sitting down I started to let out what I had been wanting to say to them for the past ten minutes. "That guy," I began as I looked to my left - and Oh Snap, that guy was at a table less than two feet away and could probably hear everything I was saying! - ," isssssssss right next to us."

And J----- and A--- laughed at me.

And L&T guy ate his food.

And I ate my food.

And there was no more witty banter about tortillas betwixt us.

But, still. We're gonna get married.

What the heck is going on in this picture?? Why is
she holding an apple, and why is it the only part
of the picture that is in color? Is the apple really
that significant??

__________________________________________________________________

In other news, today I

• was incredibly lazy.
• accidentally sent one of my favorite rings down to the BYU laundry.
• ate a cupcake called "Party in Your Mouth" - it should really be called "Chocolate/Hazelnut/Cream Cheese Atomic Bomb in Your Mouth"

I Know What I'm Going to Do Today!

I'll admit it: not very many things inspire me. I don't get that excited about things. In fact, most of the time when I'm acting excited about something, I'm faking it. But there is something that continually inspires and excites me. It's witty, it's fun, it has good messages, and it's surprisingly intelligent.

And I've seen EVERY SINGLE EPISODE.

I'm not joking. This show is great! Most cartoons these days suck. I mean, they just really, really, really suck.

But Phineas and Ferb is different! The kids practice good values, have CRAZY imaginations, and work hard! And the humor has so many levels! There are jokes and references for adults to enjoy, but unlike other shows that attempt to do the same thing *cough*spongebob*cough*, those are clean too.

All in all, it's just good, clean, clever fun.

Also, the music is pretty impressive. There's at least one original song in almost every episode (I think maybe the first couple eps are song-less). Here's some of my favorites:

I'm gonna have to stop myself from putting more up on here... but it's pretty hard. They're all just so funny and creative!

Also, watching Phineas and Ferb has taught me a few things.

1. New words!

http://phineasandferb.wikia.com/wiki/Forum:P%2BF_Vocabulary

also

2. There are a million things to do instead of staying inside, bored, watching tv.

3. You can never be too obvious when it comes to flirting with a boy.

(skip to 3:06)

Also, they have a made-for-tv movie! Which I expected to be lame (as most made-for-tv movies seem to be), but watched anyways when I was sick on Tuesday. And it was fantastic. So fantastic, that I watched it twice. It made me way happier than that homework I had been planning on doing instead.... I'm actually thinking of watching it again, as soon as I get some more of my Spanish homework done (see! I have a smidgen of self control!).

Basically, these two oddly-shaped, crazy kids who are obsessed with platypuses... platypi... platypeople? are my heroes at the moment. Because, seriously, when you're surrounded by end of semester projects and final exams and trying to figure out your future, sometimes it's really nice to be reminded to have some fun.

Life!

So, I know I haven't been on here in forever, but something HUGE happened yesterday! Also, I really don't feel like paying attention to my professor right now.

ahem.


ASHLEY IS ENGAGED! TO HAYDEN! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!


If you're reading this and you don't know who Ashley is, she was my roommate for my first two years of college and she's one of my favorite people in the entire world. Imagine the cutest, nicest, most animal-obsessed girl in the world and then multiply that awesome by 10.

Ashley, if you're reading this, I would like you to take a little stroll down memory lane to that day over the summer when, after about two months of thinking it, I finally had the guts to say,

"I think Hayden really likes you. Like seriously. You better watch out!"

and then you acted like I was crazy and you were like,

"What?? No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he likes someone else."

And even though I said this when you guys started dating, I would like to say it again. I told you so!

Also, I'm really kicking myself for leaving ---- ----- this semester because I heard that there was QUITE a scene when you told everyone. Oh man. I really wish I could have heard Jeramy's screaming. I'm imagining it to be pretty spectacular.

I'm pretty dang excited. Because even though I complain about Provo and dating a lot to my friends, I have to admit... I really like weddings.

Anyway, that's all I really have to say. There were other things that I had thought I should blog about lately, but this engagement excitement has sort of occupied all the free space in my brain.