Back in the day ...

I know, I know. Enough posting already. But I just read this article and I just had to share it. If you did not read the Baby-Sitters Club books, do not bother. But I did. By the dozens. And I totally remember Claudia's outfits, even though yes, I was Mary Anne or Mallory ...

Right now ...

I am sitting in class. Right next to a whole wall of windows. It is 80 degrees outside. Yes, I just checked weather.com, and it really is 80 degrees at 6:22 p.m. on April 5th. And did I mention that I am sitting in class?! And that I have another two hours and 38 minutes of sitting in class, right next to a whole wall of windows that look out over the quad?! The quad being the only patch of grass on campus. The quad being the place where the people go when the sun comes out. But the girls in bikinis on blankets have dispersed for the day. I suppose they know they will not improve their tans after 4 p.m. Although I think the laying (or lying, I never mastered this feat of grammar) on blankets in bikinis is only partly about attracting the sun. This is what happens when you go to school outside of Provo. You get girls in bikinis on blankets. You also get Michelle Obama to speak at graduation. And people smoking on the terrace. So, to review, outside of Provo, you get two ways to get cancer and one First Lady. So there is that.

Right now, from my window seat, I can see one shirtless guy talking on his cell phone and leaning back in his chair the way my mother always told me not to do because I would fall and also because I would ruin the chair. To be honest I want him to fall, partly because I am annoyed at his freedom from class and partly because it would make the next thirty seconds of window gazing more interesting. Also, he is already tan. It is only April 5th, he should not be that tan. He also has a little swagger going on. Not sure how exactly he manages to swagger while sitting, but he is. And yes, I suppose I am judging him, which I probably learned yesterday that I should not do. But I can only work on so much at a time. And right now I am working on the following: a) surviving class and b) figuring out my life, which I apparently need to do by tomorrow morning. So I am going to just let myself silently judge for a minute as respite from my work.

Wait. Wow. My powers are stronger than I thought. Mr. Tan Man just put on a shirt. So I suppose I should stop the judging and start using my powers productively. I will start by a) surviving class and b) figuring out my life ...

My daffodil patch ...

I should preface this post with a confession: For the past few months, our backyard has been a bit of a mess. More like a lot of a mess. And I have done absolutely nothing to remedy this. The snow melted. The grass grew. The weeds grew. And I merely looked out the window. And then a patch of something else started growing, too. Something that looked like daffodil leaves. So I watched and I waited. And sure enough, three days ago, I noticed the first daffodil blooms. Vindicated (not everyone believed me when I had previously proclaimed the greenery to be daffodils in waiting), I cut some and put them in a vase, with lofty plans to repeat the process every day. Except that yesterday someone came to mow the lawn. And he mowed the flowers. The flowers that no longer looked like weeds. The leaves and stems with yellow blooms.

True, I did not plan, or plant, that daffodil patch. I never did anything at all except watch and wait. Those flowers just sprouted in the middle of the lawn, without any help. But if given the choice between a pathetic patch of grass and a patch of daffodils, I choose the daffodils. Except maybe sometimes I do not. Maybe sometimes I just go right ahead and mow down those daffodils that sprouted in the middle of the lawn without any rhyme or reason or plan at all. Maybe sometimes I had a different plan for that patch of grass. Maybe I had a better plan. I do like plans, you know. But maybe I like daffodils more ...

Cherry blossoms ...

I live in Washington, D.C. It is the first week of April. Thus, I give you the annual cherry blossom photos ... and some quality D.C. Carly-Callie time, which has an expiration date of April 28th, so I better enjoy it while I can ...

My tourist pals ...

The tourists are back. Lots of them. I have a love/hate relationship with tourists. It goes like this: I hate the obnoxious ones (the groups of 45 15-year-olds in matching neon t-shirts, for example). I love the non-obnoxious ones (the families in matching flag shirts, for example). Today on the Metro I sat behind a mom, a six- or seven-ish looking little boy and a four- or five-ish looking little girl. Their grandma sat on the row in front of them, and as we passed the Arlington Cemetery stop, she tried to explain to the little boy that President Kennedy was buried there. She asked him what he knew about presidents. He said he knew about President Applebee. His mom interpreted this as President Washington, chopping down the apple tree. He informed her that no, he did not mean the president who chopped down the apple tree, he meant President Applebee. Then he gave up and turned to his little sister, and said, "Mom, if she was the president, she would be the first girl president, right?" The mom replied yes, and said we needed a girl president to straighten things out in the world. Then the little boy said, "No, that would be a bad idea. A girl would say things that were uncalled for." He kept going, but unfortunately, I could not catch the rest of his theory ...

Happy Spring ...

I had a lovely St. Patrick's Day. This year, I had a shake that turned out to be even better than a shamrock shake. Really. It was not green, and it has no relevance to St. Patrick's Day or this post, except that: thinking about St. Patrick's Day made me think about shamrock shakes which made me think about the delicious marshmallow shake that I ate on St. Patrick's Day. And that reminds me that I have neglected to mention the winners of my limerick contest, and I am sure all of my many, many readers have been worried and anxious about this all week. So, without further ado ...

The winning limerick (conveniently keeping with my tardy theme):

There once was a girl who forgot
But truly liked limericks alot
The deadline had passed
"Take pity!" she asked
For my rhyming skills cannot be bought!
{By Niki}

And the winning six-line limerick (yes, new category this year):

Pink is nice, but yellow is better
Think baby chicks, stars or a fuzzy sweater
Traffic lights of red and green
Would not be the same with pink in between
So stick to your guns and go with your heart,
Yellow's your fellow, has been from the start!
{By Nana}

This limerick also reminds me to report that today I purchased an adorable little pot of yellow gerber daisies. They are sitting on my desk, and should take credit for enticing me to said desk to sit still long enough to type this post. Yes, I am pretty sure I have a case of spring fever. Or something else distracting. In sum: It is beautiful here. It is the first day of spring. And stuff like that ...

P.S. Question: What exactly does "water regularly" mean?! Daily?! Every other day?! Every three days?! Every week?! I want my flowers to live, so Mom and Nana and Holly, and anyone else who knows this type of thing, please comment.

Family fun ...

My uncle, aunt and cousins came to the capital this weekend. We walked for a long time, braved my D.C. driving (a very admirable feat) and saw Nancy Pelosi in person in the Capitol. Oh, and I, for one, had a grand time.

Oh, look at me ruining their family Christmas card picture. Sorry, guys. But I bet you could crop me out ...

Woman in black: Nancy Pelosi, in Statuary Hall in the Capitol ...

Unfortunately, the weather did not really cooperate this weekend. Today, however, it did. And everyone came outside to enjoy it. In two blocks in my neighborhood I saw: two people jogging in work clothes, one man doing push-ups and sit-ups on the sidewalk, and four boys playing with Nerf guns. And this sounds like the beginning of a counting book for three-year-old children, so I suppose I will stop for now ... but stay tuned for the winning limericks tomorrow ...