About Time

I'm pretty overdue for a post, wouldn't you say? Of course, I have been incredibly busy, what with all the travelling I've been doing over the past week or so. Shall we enumerate my experience?

1. Flight from SLC to MCI (that's the Kansas City airport, for those of you who have avoided the armpit of America, you lucky dogs!), Thursday, Dec. 16th -- This was a pretty lack-luster affair. Though, I did get to go through the stupid TSA scanners when I went through security. When my mom picked me up, I told her about it. Her response: "Porn star." That was definitely the highlight of the car ride.

2. Stop at Cracker Barrel, Independence, MO, still Thursday -- Suddenly, Christmas flight pick up stop at Cracker Barrel has become a tradition. I don't think we can abandon it now. Just for the record, I had chicken'n'dumplin's, and the stupid peg game on the table said I was slower than average (and we're talking slower mental state, not actual speed. This is a southern border state, and we use technical terminology like that.)

3. Stop at home. Yep, still Thursday. -- :)

4. Driving to and from Old Navy on Sunday, Dec. 19th, Monday, Dec. 20th, and Tuesday, Dec. 21st -- The first two hours on the first day were good. After that, it was like that one burny hot place we all know about. Probably mostly due to the fact that I don't believe I've been on my feet for five straight hours since ... the last time I worked in August. Literally, I don't believe I've done it. How pathetic is that? Needless to say, my body ached like the dickens. (What does that phrase even mean?)

5. Driving from Jefferson City, MO to Colby, KS, Wednesday, Dec. 22nd -- An 8 hour drive commencing at 5 p.m. Not the way the Cardon clan usually rolls, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Something about it being dark and staying dark the whole time made it feel like time wasn't actually moving, and really made the trip feel short.

6. Driving from Colby, KS to Colorado Springs, CO, Thursday, Dec. 23rd -- A four hour drive to the Springs, which started off with the worst continental breakfast I think I've ever had. Too bad I don't think a Hyatt Place would touch Colby, KS with a 50 foot pole, because I love their cinnamon rolls.

7. Driving from Colorado Springs, CO to Crested Butte, CO, still Thursday -- This four hour drive commenced approximately 15 minutes after the last 4 hour drive ended, so we might as well lump them together and call them an 8 hour drive, because that's what it felt like.

8. Stop at CRESTED BUTTE, CO, Thursday, Dec. 23rd thru Monday, Dec. 27th -- (That link is just to the same cruddy video I made of the cabin) "WE WON!!! WE WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!" That's the quote of the trip. Also, "Are you gonna compromise your integrity over this?" A few points about this stop:

• The cabin held 21 people over the course of our stay.
• Delicious food, all day, every day.
• Ski-in/Ski-out. You can't imagine how great it is to ride on groomed trail (which was off the resort property) straight to your cabin with a hot lunch waiting for you. Like soup. Much different from trekking to the parking lot and chowing on a cold sandwich while sitting in the back of a car, and hating having to take off your gloves. We have been spoiled, and Brian Head 2011 won't settle for much less, only in highly favorable and compensatory circumstances. We're currently scoping places that sleep up to 45 people. Boyfriend applications now being accepted. :P Hahaha.
• Miraculously, we had perfect weather. They got 60 inches in the 72 hours leading up to our arrival, driving weather was perfect, and Friday and Saturday (our ski days) were cloudless, and edging up on 40 degrees-so warm, you could have left your gloves in your pockets. On Sunday, when we weren't on the mountain, it was overcast. It was like they planned it just for us. Driving back was, again, excellent weather.
• The dumbwaiter. It wasn't even that useful, for our short stay anyhow. It was just cool that we had one! :)
• The delicious king-sized bed I slept on. Admittedly, with my sister. But it was like she wasn't even there. And besides some really crazy dreams, it was some of the best sleep I ever did get.
• When I was chilled to the bone after my post-boarding nap, I hit up the steam shower. It was boiling, wonderful hot up in there, but it felt SO good. After that ....
• ... I took a regular shower. With double shower heads. While still taking in the remnant steam from my steam shower. I might have left both on at the same time, but I might have melted from all the heat.
• On the first day, my back hurt really badly from all the time I'd spent in the car. So I took a bath in the jetted tub under 20+ foot ceilings. Yummy.
• I boarded better than I've ever boarded in my life, which is kind of a big deal since I only get to go like one or two days a year, and I've only been doing it for like 5 years. And I learned some dang good life-lessons on my second day (to which Heather can testify!)
• I got to spend time with some of my favorite people, and had my semi-annual dating pep talk with Sis. N! Haha. How I do so look forward to our chats ...
• Had a great Ben Barnes dream. I blame/credit this on the multifarious BB postings on Rachel's tumblr. Keep 'em coming, gf. You ROCK. :)
• I finished The Book Thief. It was good. But I wouldn't recommend purchasing it. Your local library is the place to go. Plus it was super slow, and I questioned whether or not it was worth my effort until like the last 10 pages. So maybe it wasn't really worth it after all. Idk.
• Got a taste of Celestial Seasoning's herbal tea, Roastaroma flavor. I think I found a new favorite, though I'd hardly call it a "tea." Definitely more of a coffee experience. Yum.
• ... I don't really have too much more to say about it, except that it was AMAZING and I LOVED it. Definitely one of the top 5 vacations of my life because it was just so perfect.
• Oh, and did I mention, we had the most beautiful view? It was seriously lovely. On the day we got in, a big fluffy cloud had settled in the valley, and we got to look down on it from our cozy cabin up on the slopes.
• I love my life. Really.

9. Drive from Crested Butte, CO to Colorado Springs, CO, Monday, Dec. 27th -- I love staying with the Norton family. Sis. N made an amazing authentic Italian dinner, and I got to hang out with my amigo that I literally hadn't seen in a year. Crazy! Doesn't feel like it could be that long, but I guess that's how it is now, ya know?

10. Drive from Colorado Springs, CO to Jefferson City, MO, Tuesday, Dec. 28th -- I did not love this car ride. By the time we hit Kansas City, my back was aching and I was so sick of being in the car that I was practically beside myself. My bed, however, welcomed me back with open arms, and I think I slept in until 11 on Wednesday morning. Love my life :)

Being Offended, and I LOVE THIS CABIN

I'd just like to make a tiny little comment on people being offended (even a little bit).

DON'T LET IT HAPPEN.

People need to learn to be happy with their own lives, and stop caring about what everyone else does and says, because it doesn't matter. And don't bring it up on Facebook. That's just kinda tacky.

As a piece of paper on my seminar teacher's wall once said, "Anger is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die." I know I'm not the best example of living the principle contained in this little phrase, but when I remember it, I remember not to be angry, bitter, jealous, annoyed, offended, etc.

Besides that, who wants to waste a second of their day harboring bitter feelings when there are so many good things in life?? For example, this ROCKING cabin that we're staying in right now. And there's a video tour, if you've got 10 minutes to waste. It's terrible video/sound/camera-holder quality, but I'm not a film major or in any way planning to have anything to do with film for the rest of my life, so no griping. Haha. Here 'tis: The Cabin

Hobert's Monkey

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos of 21 people trying to arrange food and bags and gear and bedding and gifts and who knows what else, I've been able to find escape in the living room (of all places) to tell you an incredible story. This is the story of Hobert's Monkey.

---

My dad has a dental assistant named Jane, and Jane has a son named Robert. Robert, like many children, learned to pronounce his R's some time after he learned to correctly pronounce the rest of his alphabet. Because of this, Robert was not able to pronounce his own name correctly for some time, calling himself "Hobert" instead of Robert.

After a little while, Robert learned to pronounce his R's, but he still insisted on calling himself Hobert. In an attempt to trick Robert into calling himself Robert, rather than Hobert, his mother, Jane would ask him questions.

"What's the name of the animal that has long ears and a fluffy tail?" she would ask.

"A rabbit!" Robert would say.

"What's your name?" she would then ask.

"Hobert!" Robert would reply.

She would continue to ask him questions such as, "What are we driving on?" ("A road!") and "What kind of car drives really fast?" ("A race car!") after which she would ask Robert his name. Regardless of her attempts at tricking him into correct pronunciation, he continued to respond "Hobert!"

One day, Jane bought her son a stuffed monkey, which he liked very much. After playing with it for a little while, he decided to tell his mom what he had named the monkey.

"Robert," he said, "is Hobert's monkey!"

---

Thus endeth the tale of Hobert's monkey. Hope you enjoyed! :)

Christmas Break 2010

Let's just get one thing straight here: I do not miss Provo. I am happy to be home with my family. I love the fact that I'm sitting in a memory-foam topped king-size bed with about 50 blankets on top of it because my room is an igloo.

What I'm not so stoked about is the fact that my siblings are still in school, and will be having school until Wednesday, which is the day we finally leave for Colorado (but not until around 4 in the p.m.). I'm not so happy with myself for staying up WAY too late, sleeping in way too late, and losing like half of my day, and then finishing it up with babysitting feral children. (That's an exaggeration. After about 2 hours, they calmed down and were really sweet. BUT the almost-destroying-of-my-father's-projector, and the puketastic poopy diaper that I had to change negate the sweetness). I'm not so jazzed that I have to work tomorrow from 1 to 6, and from 12-5 on Monday and Tuesday (you know how much I hate Old Navy after working there all this summer). I'm also not too jazzed that I feel totally cut off from everyone! Why do you all have LIVES outside of the INTERNET? I just want to talk to you!!! Haha. Just kidding. I mean, of course I do want to talk to you, but I'm not like ... going completely bonkers.

Or am I?

No, but for realsies, I'm just missing you PEOPLE (NOT Provo!) I mean, being home is great. My bed is great. My beloved piano is great. The fact that I'm going to actually get to make some money over break is great, even though it has to be through Old Navy. My family is great. Not having to be in class is great. Knowing that finals are over is great. Getting ready to enjoy Christmas is great. Getting ready to go to Colorado is great. My life is freaking great.

I'm just bored out of my mind right now because I live with a bunch of people who go to bed ridiculously early!!! :)

Whiners

I really hate whiners. I realize that I am a(n extremely verbose) complainer quite often, but at least I have legitimate reasons to back up my complaints. And when they aren't legitimate, they are always well-worded and/or extensively passionate. Despite my periodic dips in the Well of Whining, I feel that the particular situation I wish to discuss is an unusually legitimate, and is one for which I feel more than usually passionate. As to well-worded-ness, that is yet to be seen. But I hope that it will be so.

Seriously, though, this is a very big deal to me, and I refuse to remain silent about it. Here's the problem: Some students (yes, at BYU) seem to be severely afflicted with a sense of entitlement that renders them rude, and is, frankly, an embarrassment to our fine educational institution.

I've noticed the tendency towards this sense of entitlement a few times through my experience at BYU, particularly as I've taken my GE classes. I suppose this can be partially attributed to freshmen, just out of high school and used to waltzing through their classes without even grazing over the thought of making an effort, and maybe that's why they think that they have a right to have every answer to every test question handed to them on a solid-gold platter without having to learn anything that they won't actually be tested on. Maybe that's where the problem is originating. I HOPE that that's the only place it's coming from. I'd be even more embarrassed to be numbered among the students in my class, who really are acting like a skid mark on the undies of our campus.

Just to be clear, I've had two GE classes this semester, Biology 100 and Sociology 111, and as I've attended the final reviews for each of these classes, there have been multiple students who have sat around complaining about having to know things that aren't on the test. Like two extra percentages, or a couple more dates. When my Biology TA listed the three statistics that we should know, a student asked, "But which ones are actually going to be on the test?" My TA said, "You just need to know them. One of them could be on the test, or all of them." The kid was obviously not satisfied with this answer, and the girls sitting directly behind me said in softish voices, "This isn't a game. Why won't he just tell us?" Later, while the TA was writing something on the board, the girl next to me leaned over and said, "It's better if you take your contacts because then you can't see how ridiculous it is that he's writing that on the board."

Now, I'm going to admit that even though I went to most of the lectures, I in no way have been paying attention for the past month or so. Considering the barrenness of the classroom and the tendency of numberless concourses of students to leave mid-lecture (which really is so disrespectful I could just spit), I'd say there's a pretty decent chance that the majority of the people in the review weren't coming to class, and of those who were there, they probably weren't paying much more attention than I was. And let's be honest, if you really pay decent attention in class, reviews aren't that necessary. Helpful, yes, but not necessary. You can get a very decent grade without them. Very decent.

As one of the less-attentive students, I was just happy that he was willing to set aside two hours in the middle of his finals week to hold a review. That's kind of a big deal, you know? I mean, we are ALL very busy, and there have been reviews held every single day since the last day of class. That's huge.

Furthermore, reviews are, as always, completely and totally optional. So if you don't want to be there, don't be there. You knew that this review was going to last two hours. Why you would think it would last 30 minutes is so far beyond me, that I can't even express it adequately.

And seriously, we're paying a pittance for our education here at the Y, so what makes you think that you should have everything handed straight to you? I mean, I am so hugely against people thinking that they can just pay for things and get what they want without working for it, but I am even more against people paying very small amounts of money, paying costs that are subsidized by tithing from members of the church all over the world, and still expecting to not have to work at all for their education. You ingrates. I'm so sick of you.

What do you have to do that is so much more important than studying for a final anyhow? I mean really? How much is really as important as this right now, short of your mother being on her deathbed? Oh, I'm sorry... Is your boyfriend eating his dinner alone in the Cougareat right now? GET SOME PRIORITIES.

Why is it so hard for you to be respectful, huh? I mean really, there is very little that grates on my nerves quite like people being disrespectful, and I'm APPALLED at the number of people who were cutting off the TA, who were making snarky comments, who were asking him to tell them exactly what was going to be on the test, and who were just being rude to him, and to the rest of us who were in there.

I literally wanted to punch every person within a 5 seat radius of me in the face. I have never been so disgusted in my life. The majority of students were so rude, so disrespectful, and so disgustingly convinced that they deserved to have the answers to every question on the test given to them so that they could memorize them and spit them out verbatim with the smallest amount of effort possible.

NEWSFLASH STUDENTS: You don't deserve a degree UNTIL you've made an effort.

Those rude students in my Biology class are not making an effort. Well, they're making an effort to get out of making an effort, and that is simply not acceptable. I am so repulsed at their behavior, and at any student who exhibits the same behavior. It's absolutely foul, and it's an embarrassment to the university, and to the Church that we represent. Students need to be more respectful, and need to care more about their education. Because that's what we're here for; that's what life is all about—learning. And if you're expecting the purpose of life to be given to you without asking anything of you, you need a serious attitude adjustment. And you certainly don't need to be at BYU, because there are people out there that would actually put in the work, that deserve to be here, when compared to your whiny tushes. Stop being so ungrateful, and get rid of that revolting sense of entitlement that you possess.

I need to stop. This rant is getting outrageous, and also I'm running out of G-rated words to describe my annoyance with these idiots that call themselves students. UGH.

Don't You Hate It When ...

It can happen to anyone, anytime. You slide your feet further under your seat, you clasp your hands together, you try to adjust your desk or move your chair, your stomach makes the gurglies....

And you just know that someone in the near vicinity is going to think you ripped one.

What do you do? This depends on who you're with. If you're with friends, you can laugh it off and explain what happened. If you're with family, you don't even need to say anything. But if you're with strangers ... Well, let me just tell you what happened to me this week.

I just so happened to be sitting in my Biology 100 class, absorbed in Facebook and StumbleUpon, as I am wont to be in the middle of the world's most brain-mushing GE. In the midst of this absorption, it became apparent that it was time to participate in an in-class assignment. We had to write down whether or not we should try to save endangered species, or something dumb like that. I don't really care what it was, because it's not really important. What IS important is that while I was waiting for the TA's to tell us what to do with our papers, my fingers were not occupied with my keyboard. So, as so-called "nervous" people tend to be, I needed something to do with my hands. I often struggle, especially when I'm extremely bored, to keep my hands still. They've got to be doing something. So I was clasping my palms together, squeezing my joints about, which led to my palms squeezing together. This was not a problem, as I had exceptionally dry hands that day. Except something went wrong, and there it went ... the flatulent noise that boys have perfected by the age of seven.

Only it wasn't a perfect one. Not one of the loud, obvious, fake ones that we all know so well. No. This was a terrible one because it was just loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to sound like I'd tried to sneak a real one. There were people right in front of me ... I knew that they had heard. And I was sitting all by myself, which meant there was no way I could even pretend that the guy next to me was responsible. No. I was trapped.

I had to let them know that it was an accident! That it was the pure product of unfortunate circumstances, the result of the tragic laws of science and vacuums and whatnot!! So what do I do?

I start squeezing my hands together with furious speed.

But they, of course, were unusually dry, and I couldn't get the slightest hint of a sound to eject from my hands. So I lift my hands up a little higher, so that maybe if I can't repeat the sound I just created, then maybe they'd catch a glimpse of my hands and therefore understand that the mystery sound was not a legitimate Bronx cheer, but just the result of air rushing between my palms.

Some time after this, I just gave up.

But don't you hate that moment when you know that people around you think that that sound they just heard could have been the warning bell that their air is about to be befouled? Then, of course, you're in this losing battle with time trying to make the same sound again so people realize that you haven't tried to cropdust them.

Whether it's frantically rubbing your shoes against the floor, tromping all across the wood trying to find the squeaky board again, or squeezing your hands together with enough ferocity to permanently attach them to each other, we'll all do anything to keep people from thinking that we are guilty. And I think it's hilarious.

Rejection

(Just so you know, I've been on a blogging frenzy today, so, if you so desire, browse about and see some of the new posts, including "Craigslist" and "Facebook Fads." Those might be the only other new ones, but whatever.)

Some time ago, Katie had a film due in her film class. Natalie and I were fortunate enough to be actresses in this film and we had a GREAT time doing it, and I'm so excited to do the real version tomorrow! Anyways, as she showed this "rough draft" to her class a couple of weeks ago, the other students were asked to fill out comment cards. One of the cards said, "I asked one of those girls out twice and got rejected hardcore :("

Now, let's just be honest here: Natalie is the dating machine of the apartment. I've never heard of someone getting asked out on so many dates. It sometimes literally blows my mind (not because there's any reason for her not to get asked out, it's just the ratio between her dating and that of like every other girl on the planet). I, of course, haven't really had much opportunity to reject people this semester, and I feel like I've been very open to blind dates and pretty much whoever whenever.

The point is, it obviously was not me.

So Katie shoots me a text, asking if I or Natalie knew this guy, I didn't recognize the name, and Natalie didn't either, but she knew that she had turned down a guy in her tap class a couple of times and she couldn't remember his name. Sad, but sometimes this happens.

Last night, at our cocoa party, Rachel brought over a gift from Katie--the stack of comment cards. They were all really nice, saying we were good actors and stuff, and complimenting Katie's choice of shots and her great idea and the funny scene where Natalie shoves me back into "my" room. We finally get to the infamous rejection card, and we decide to look the guy up on Facebook. Natalie looks at him and says, "That's not the guy in my tap class." So I start looking at him ...

... And he's looking pretty familiar.

But I'm thinking to myself, This isn't possible. This guy can't have asked me out twice. It's just impossible. I certainly haven't met him this year, and I know he wasn't in my ward, but I didn't know anyone in any of my classes LAST year that would have asked me out ... So how can this be?

Only that's where we hit the reason for the rejection, and the reason I barely even recognize him: I didn't know him. And he still asked me out. Twice. We were in a freshman film seminar my first semester, and he was an R.M., and I was not yet or just barely 19, and I was totally freaked out that he was asking me out.

In hindsight, this was silly and kind of rude of me, but that's how I felt at that time. Added to the fact that I HATED going to International Cinema for that class (we were expected to see two of the three films each week), I just wasn't happy about any of his offer. I preferred to stream the movies while I was alone in my room and laying on my bed or the floor. Of course, that semester was like the worst 4 months of my life, and at the end of it, I was sitting in a lodge halfway up a mountain in Winter Park, Colorado, sucking down a tall mug of cocoa and crying my eyes out, telling my mom that I didn't want to come back to college. I was emotionally unstable because my entire life was feeling unstable at that point, but who hasn't gone through a period of emotional instability before?

Anyways, long-story-short, I now feel super bad. I mean, I can't believe the guy even remembers that he asked me out in the first place, but the fact that he wrote that down on the comment card with a frowny face makes me feel like a terrible person. Whatever. Nothing I can do about it now, I suppose.

While we're in the subject of rejection ... I've had a funny thought today. I mean, we all know that the person who cares the least in a relationship has the most control over it. This is a truth that we've all accepted it, and many of us have striven to care less so that we can maintain control over the relationship. (Hopefully I'm not the only one who does this ... Awkward.) But have you ever let someone think that they were rejecting you because you just don't even care enough to want them to know that it's you rejecting them, and not the other way around?

I was thinking about this, about certain events in my past (how recent or not recent is irrelevant). But I think maybe sometimes you just care so little that you don't even care to bother rejecting someone. You just let them do the work and let them think that they've turned you down, when really it's just your indifference that's making them want to reject you in the first place. There's a part of me thinks, You can be angry about this. This is an absolutely valid reason to be totally pissed off. You may have been somewhat at fault, but he's definitely in the wrong here. I try to be angry. I try to care.

But 99.999% of me just doesn't.

Am I emotionally disturbed? Do I have a dysfunctional heart? (Hola, Cheesy Kayla!) Was the timing off? (Let me answer that one: YES. Big, fat, heinous YESness.) What's my deal? Am I going to be like this forever? (Heck, I hope not.)

I guess my point is this: Dating, love, whatever all this junk is, is complicated, and no matter how annoying it is, or how differently each of us handles it and ourselves... Well, people say it's worth it. Too many, in fact, for it to be disregarded. Sometimes, majority shouldn't rule, but maybe sometimes it should. And rejection, no matter how much it sucks, is a part of life. Sometimes you're the rejecter, sometimes you're the rejectee, and sometimes you're some kind of mixture of both. It's just life.

Ultimately, I'd like to sum up my thoughts by quoting myself, "Whate'er."

Facebook Fads

Facebook fads, trends, movements, rumors—I hate them all. You know why? BECAUSE THEY'RE STUPID. This may sound like an immature argument, but I intend to back it up, not in any sort of well-planned or thought out order, but just as it comes out of my mouth. I have a lot of rage on this subject, so be prepared. Here goes:

(1) I don't care what celebrity you think you look like. The fact is, you don't REALLY look like a celebrity, and it annoys the junk out of me that I can't tell who you are because YOU AREN'T IN YOUR OWN DANGED PROFILE PICTURE. Really, I think people just want to have really sexy profile pictures for a week (or month, as it happened) so they can hide their real faces. Grow up. We all know what you really look like, and honey, it ain't anything like Heidi Klum. I also don't care who your favorite cartoon character is. It has nothing to do with who you are as a person.

(2) Are you really stupid enough to think that changing your profile picture to a stupid cartoon character is going to do anything about child abuse? Seriously? Also, I don't want to talk to Tinkerbell or Pikachu or Betty Boop or Spongebob. And I definitely don't want to have to hover over your freaking picture to try to figure out who the heck you are. I just don't.

(3) "ATTENTION: Everyone change your profile pictures back to yourself because the group asking everyone to change their profile picture to their favorite cartoon character is actually a group of pedophiles. They're doing it because kids will accept their friend request faster if they see a cartoon picture. It has nothing to do with supporting child violence. It's on tonight's news! Copy and paste this as your status! Pass it on! Wow." I'm not even going to address the fact that this was absolutely heinous in regards to grammatical quality. But SERIOUSLY PEOPLE?? I mean, yes there are children on Facebook, but not a significant portion. Furthermore, how would a cartoon profile picture make them more likely to accept a friend request? I'm pretty sure serious pedophiles are a bit more sophisticated than that in their pursuits. And let's also point out "supporting child violence." NO ONE IS SUPPORTING CHILD VIOLENCE. Except maybe you because you think that you're doing good in the world by changing your profile picture to a stupid cartoon. Newsflash: doesn't work (please see #2 above). What is wrong with you that you can't Google the story before posting your stupid status? I mean, really? Are you THAT dumb? Is it just TOO HARD for you to check this out and make sure it's really before you spam everybody's wall with your garbage? I mean, I was already annoyed out of my mind when people started changing their profile pictures to cartoons. But the fact that people are reposting this idiotic claim that it's a group of pedophiles who started it ... Good gravy. GET YOUR FREAKING FACTS STRAIGHT, STOP POSTING GARBAGE ON MY NEWS FEED, AND CHANGE YOUR PROFILE PICTURE BACK TO YOUR OWN FACE. I'm done with this one.

(4) I know you feel scandalous and dirty when you post "turquoise" or "I like it on the desk," but I don't care what color your bra is and I'm no wiser about breast cancer after you say that. Secondly, I don't care where you like your purse, and what does that have to do with anything? It's not even funny. It's just stupid.

(5) I really just hate any sort of viral Facebooking activity. Got it? Good.