Palm readers read upside-down

"The nails in the hand of a person reflect his fate."

I wonder why cow pies are gross and shepherd's pie is tasty. How cannibalistic is that?

I never dreamed that I would let go

Today there was a booth giving away free smoothies to trick people into liking the Honor Code. I took one to trick them into thinking that I like the Honor Code.

Now, I don't consider myself the rebellious type by anyone's standards. Before BYU I felt I had a healthy respect for the HC, proudly stabbing my signature in endorsement as I mailed my application letter. I think my perception of the document became skewed when I discovered by unfortunate experience that it was less virtuous and more condemnable to have a sick man in your house past twelve than to NCMO outside the determining residential doors. I guess what happens in Provo canyon, stays in Provo canyon. But what happens inside past midnight turns your mate into more than just a pumpkin; it turns him and those contaminated by his presence into perpetrators, subject to interrogation by the inhabitants of the infamous fourth floor of the Wilk. Your interrogator acts your spokesman in your subsequent trial, in which your presence is not required, and your academic fate is turned over to a committee, whose faces you will never know (unless you look them up on the official HC website).

I had a hard time deciding between strawberry and blueberry, but ultimately decided to go with strawberry due to its more soothing color.

We seem to leave so much up to fate.
"Maybe I'll see you again for another crossword."

So why am I inside on such a lovely day? To blog and learn the art of crossword puzzles.

Harry Potter is not a false idol: he's a hero.

Maksim.

The ender will save us all

I was surprised...
I was puzzled by a dream...

If I thought my audience were more curious, I'd use hints instead of saying things on purpose. The theory behind is that only those who really want to know would find out. Too bad nobody else is as curious as I am. Heck, I may have just made this blog secret and led a bread crumb trail to it, just to be sure my readers were worthy. Would you condescend to help me?...
Desperation is the devil's work...

I'm learning some Spanish from Lost. I don't notice myself reading the subtitles, but I think I could take a basic Spanish test and pass. Heck, I could do better than that; I could even move to California.

I've been told I should tell myself what I'm supposed to and supposed not to feel. I'm also told people are supposed to know how I feel instead of my being so stoic. Am I stoic? Last I checked, people think I'm not in control of my emotions. Anyway, I decided I have too many excuses and I'm going to complain one last time, and then I'll do that thing where I fix what bothers me. I'm good at that.

...Like I never occurred.

Sometimes I get that slight bit of bitterness in the back of my throat. I didn't even like him; I wonder how horrible it must taste to those who love and lose.

And the worst thing about using a laptop at night is having to squish bugs against the screen.
And on worse note, I felt something in my hairline just where my widow's peak would lie if I had one; I pulled out an ant.

A few of my favorite things

The best thing in Provo is a broken sprinkler. They are quite different from other sprinklers in the city as any wetness that one receives from them was purely by choice. I believe this makes the water much sweeter. I've only experienced the joys of these sprinklers in the dark, and, due to the limitation of my rods, I am unable to tell what color the water is, though, I imagine it to be a pale pink color. The water pressure is impressive - much greater than those colorful mushrooms at the amusement parks, and the display they create is astounding. The water creates complete arc: it starts at ground level and is emitted several times higher than a person and returns again with a hard, loud impact.

Lack of shower for the day: Corrected.

Make me cry

I think I'd rather my rat have died, since they don't seem to enjoy me. It's not that I was so upset that it died, just the look on its face when it couldn't breathe: the look of fear garnished with pain.