I have nothing to say.

Trying to write a blogpost when you have nothing to say feels even worse than sitting down to write a 10-page paper.  Harder, anyhow.  There's absolutely no prompt, since blogging can and should be about anything.  Logically, this lack of parameters should make it easier for me to write something here; there's so many options, why don't I just pick one and get on with it?  But the following thought pattern is also logical to me:  the vastness of the number of things I could write about gives greater import to whatever I say here.  This is what I imagine people reading blogs thinking: the author could have written about anything, but out of everything that could be said, he/she chose to write this.  So it must really matter to him/her.
That's really why this is harder than a 10-page paper.  I think what I say here has to say a lot about me, it has to be the best, it has to seem valuable to other people, and it'll define me as a person.  The title of this post is a lie. I do have things to say, I have lots of things to say.  I think tons of things. I have opinions. I have testimonies. I have people I want to blather on and on about, because I'm in love with them.  I'm just scared of saying something sincerely and then having it disregarded.  Because that hurts.  Maybe I should think about it differently, though.  If I'm being sincere and honest, in any venue, be it speech, text, or song, why should I care what the reception of it is?  I don't want to cast my "pearls" before swine, but only because I don't like watching my pearls be dirtied, disrespected, or unappreciated, not because I'm trying to obey that scripture.
I want to do more things because I want to.  I want to not cater to people's needs.  I don't think it's honest. I'm torn between my belief that humans should be accommodating and my belief that censorship and self-restraint aren't always honest.  I'm a black-and-white thinker who wants to see the gray, which, in and of itself, is a black-and-white and gray statement.  I'm a ball of contradictions, that's what I am.  I don't know what to write or talk or think or speak when there's no audience I'm catering to.  Even when I'm writing in my journal, I'm my own audience.  I guess I'll always be there to hear what I have to say.  That's inescapable.  One of my greatest wishes is to be able to communicate without letting people's reactions govern the next sentence I say or movement I make, or how I feel about myself.
I've been reading this course I'm illustrating at work called "Self Reliance:  How to Eliminate Stress and Be True to Yourself."  It talks about how we all have an opinion of what is the best action in everything, and when we're true to ourself we feel happy, and when we betray that belief we've betrayed ourselves and become unhappy and stressed.  I want to be truer to myself and my beliefs.  I want to make things I think are beautiful and throw them out into the world and not care what people say about them, not wait for a response.  I want to eliminate things that don't matter.  I want to not expect anything, but still be able to appreciate blessings, and not expect them after I've appreciated them.  I want to always have a desire to change, not out of dissatisfaction with myself, but because I'm humble enough to realize I can always improve.
Oof.
Told you.  Lots of things.

these things; they're all i need.

hong chung zhang

here's her website

me when i was cute and 12, and what i'll look like when i get married.

the left. i'll look like the guy on the left.

no.

my roommate wants to start a band. she wants to call it [as you read the following,
please notice your gut reaction and any images your mind may immediately flit to]


"the bangs and the bows."



i think this name will cause double-takes, stifled laughter, and ridicule.
also hellfire.
she thinks it's about our hairstyles and accoutrements.
what say ye?


on second thought. it doesn't look that inappropriate when it's written. so please turn some music on, wait for your roommate or your grandmother to ask who the band is, and then say "THE BANGS AND THE BOWS, G-MAW." emphasis on the bang.
and theeeeeeeeeeeeeen see what happens.
please. please reassure me that i don't have a dirty mind, that it really just is a poor, poor choice of band name.

The TAL from this week was a repeat, so I listened to my favorite of all time.  The whole episode is really interesting, but my favorite story starts in the 33rd minute.  When I die, I want to have just one lil' old tale from my life that is as crazy as this one.

speaking of alphabet books...

i love this:
http://elvisaaron.tumblr.com/post/1241213988

mmmmmmmmpft.

the above title is how i choose to onomatopoetically represent the sound of restraint/a groan/pain.  no, that doesn't say a groin pain. it looks like it, though.  

i typed mmmmmmpft (note_the number of m's is optional and indicates level of vehemence. the vehemence of the groin pain) many a time this evening as i g-chatted with my friend cassi. because.  she went on a date with a boy who is now constantly blogging about his love for her.  that is always awkward to read. i'm in love with a boy, but i don't blog about it. maybe i should, so someone can gripe about me like i'm griping about him.

bureallymaybeishouldn'tjudgehimperhapshehasamuchhighercapacityforlovethanido.

i linked her to this article in an effort to help.  she just loffed. loffed as if a wikihow article authored by such reliable sources as teresa, foxglove, and ohiomike didn't engender change deep within her.  pffffffft.  that's how i type my scoffs.

my dad has bested me at the google game.  he found what i could not, and in about half the time.  i remembered reading and loving an alphabet book when i was a kid that was full of difficult vocabulary words, like "k is for kleptomaniac" and "v is for vacillate," but couldn't find it online.  daddy-o came through when i asked for help, though.  here 'tis.

each of the 26 words has a story/pun to help you remember the meaning.  here's a quote from a customer review:

In the first story, Benjamin Van Der Bellows, a bear "who did not know the things he was supposed to know" is moved each time he makes a mistake to an office on a lower floor. Predictably, he winds up in the basement. "So, whenever a person has been lowered in position or rank or office, we say that person has suffered an abasement."

genius. i would love love love love love to just write and illustrate books like this for the rest of my life.  and choose a text for the title that doesn't have a rainbow gradient.

my friend kelsey is going to change the world someday.  please read this blogpost and don't judge her, just appreciate her.  i'm sure if you don't know her, if you can't see her face in your head, her pretty little face with a pretty little beauty mark to the left of her philtrum, you might think she sounds angsty.  and if you're not familiar with her pretty, not little at all, humble brain, you might think she sounds snobby.  but she's really not.  she's a genius.  if you still hate her, read this one, and try to love her like i love the boy that loves cassi.  but better.

lastly, i thoroughly enjoyed watching april almost throw up when we watched this video. and there was much mmmmmpfting, too.

"miced bread."  hahaha.  i bet the writer yelped with joy when he had that epiphany.

colin hey he's ugly.

ofttimes i listen to bands without knowing what they look like.  ofttimes i really like the bands i listen to. enough that i eventually google their faces.  ofttimes when i see their faces, i think "but of course."  kind of like the first day of relief society in a new ward when they make everyone stand up, introduce themselves, and say their major, and all the girls with perky smiles and fake flowers in their hair say "and my major is elementary ed!" and all the pony-tailed girls with floor-length denim skirts on simply mutter "physics."
i really like it when my preconceived notions match the truth, and even expect it sometimes.  so when i googled colin hay last week because of his wonderful song s from garden state, i was expecting someone who looked how his music sounds to me:  quiet, bearded, bashful, unassuming, and hermit-like.  instead, i found this picture.

he is dead to me. forever.

i love technology.

but not when i'm sitting on an automatic toilet and it flushes before i'm done.  

here are some strange things that make me happy

this week i went to wendy's twice in two days. and on the next day, i tried to go for round 3, but my plan was foiled by stadium of fire traffic.

i was so close to tasting real happiness.



sometimes, when just wearing a t-shirt and undies, i like to wait right outside the bathroom door while april is showing and when she comes out, dance off to our bedroom yelling "no pants! no pants!" whilst swinging my hips from side to side.


she loves it.


kyle saw his childhood hero mark eaton at the rodeo.  he then decided to and succeeded in touching mark's butt.


when my ward was singing at a nursing home today this one craaaaazy old man was all "it's not the 1920's."
and i said, "you're right, it's not."
and he said "so why is your hair like that?"
and then i remembered that i look like a flapper.
subsequently, he cussed.


alison told us a story about how at girls' camp her only friend were these two fat girls (if that had been the end of the story i still would have thought it was funny) and when they were coming back from swimming the two chunkers were talking about how much they hate it when their thighs chafe.  alison didn't know what chafing meant.  but when they glared at her because she was skinny, she wanted to fit in so she said "oh my thighs totally chafe too."  
fitting in with the fat girls is harder than i thought.  ha.  punny.



this:

me and april put black cats under paige and hannah's toilet seat and are just waiting to scare the crap out of them.  hopefully literally.


and megan thorkinschlepmep.

found here

where have you been?

dear couple that canoodles in plain sight of my living room window,

i haven't seen you in forever.  it's been at least a week since i've looked out my window and across to your kitchen window and seen the two of you locked in one of your passionate embraces.  now you just keep your blinds closed all day.  what, is it because you got tired of seeing me and my roommates all gesticulating at you and critiquing your form and talking about how strange it was that you started making out backwards while you were doing the dishes?  if you'd prefer, we could try to stop pointing.  we'll just sit still in silence and watch, creepily.  please please please consider letting us back into your life.  because the truth is...

we don't have a tv.

this is the best song i've heard in months.

it's all about the non-diegetic sound

Paige showed me this video today.  I said to her, "Sloths?  Really?"  but then watched it anyway.  And something incredible happened.  Every motherly instinct gene inside me stood up and screamed "Love and nurture offspring!"

April was watching it too.  April who, as we all know, is constantly full of hate.  At 0:20 she said "I really don't want to think these are cute, but they kind of are."  At 0:30 she said "Awwwww, I want one!"


Meet the sloths from Amphibian Avenger on Vimeo.

Sloths are gross.  Their noses are wet.  They squint like they're elderly.  They are basically slow, pudgy monkeys with claws.  But the song playing in the background and the editing made these sloths look absolutely adorable, even when one was grabbing the camerawoman's finger and pulling it threateningly towards its mouth (1:22).  So I wondered what the video would feel like with a different soundtrack.

Mute the sloth video, press play on the one below, wait about 18 seconds, and then full screen the sloth one and watch it.  If you do it right, some of the beats will perfectly sync with the shots.  And it will rid you of your newfound love of sloths.



Then watch it again with the sound from the video below and realize that all sloths look super stoned all the time.

quotes from tom russell's film class

on everyone being entitled to their opinion:

“but some opinions are absolutely retarded.”

“my husband paid $100 thousand for my companionship.”

on unattractive protagonists:

“can’t our heroes have pooches?"

“we’re the best.  we’re number one.  everyone else is 2 or lower.”

after a car explodes in 'touch of evil':

“that’s what happens when charlton heston kisses you.”

in the middle of lecture:

“oh, did i tell you?  a woman vomited at one of my kid’s concerts the other day.”

on his TA john forbyn:

“if you’re in john’s lab, pants and beat him after class.”

“the prostitute that just sits downstairs and sings to the guys...that’s the part i always play in the movies.”

on dana carvey:

“oh dana, you fool...i think i like boys now.” 

“she was really busty.  and kind of tacky busty.”

on crying on command:

“you just say ‘i want tears’ and tears come out.  i don’t know how they do that.  i think they’re in league with the devil.”

“i’m going to go spay and neuter all my pets just to bring bob barker back.”

today, instead of working, i looked up "fanny pack" on wikipedia.  like all wikipedia articles, the article was very informative and scintillating.

The handiness and ease of opening of fanny packs has also resulted in them being used as holsters for storing loaded handguns. Many manufacturers make fanny packs that are designed for concealed carry.

my dad is a funny jerk.

e-mail from my dad to me:

Claire - I learned today that Michael Pack from our ward is running
in the same marathon as you ...

Love, Dad

my reply:

utah valley?  i'm sure he runs at least 7 minute miles, if not faster.  find out?  and then tell him i run 20 seconds faster than whatever he does.  please and thank you.
-claire

from my dad to me and michael pack:

Here you go, ball's in your court now Michael ...

My daughter has been known to trash talk a bit.

Steve

Begin forwarded message:

From: Claire Plimpton 

Date: May 10, 2010 11:22:18 AM MDT

To: plimpton 

Subject: Re: marathon

- Hide quoted text -

utah valley?  i'm sure he runs at least 7 minute miles, if not faster.  find out?  and then tell him i run 20 seconds faster than whatever he does.  please and thank you.

On Sun, May 9, 2010 at 9:31 PM, plimpton <plimpton.sd@gmail.com> wrote:

Claire - I learned today that Michael Pack from our ward is running
in the same marathon as you ...

Love, Dad

point for dad.

today i was texting someone while i was on the toilet and i realized that i'd never been happier in my life.

genius.

i am constantly amazed at how teeth can make or break someone's attractiveness.

i obviously can't cite any specific examples of people i know or else this blog would just be rude.  
-er than it already is.  
but you know what i'm talking about.  you see a person in public and start to dig their chili, and then they glance over and smile or start talking to someone they know, and display their chompers.  if their teeth are straight and their gums don't show too much, you can go take a bite of that chili.  but sometimes they're not straight or they're way too big or way too small and you can see 2 inches of gum and your insides start to twist and you run away.  
screaming.
on the flip side, sometimes you see someone who's average-looking, and then they flash those pearly whites that obviously got some serious loving from an orthodontist because they are perfectly spaced and arranged and gleam in the moonlight.  and then you'll do anything to make that person smile.  and fall in love and reproduce and try to preserve that good bone structure for generations.


i once asked a friend what the most important body parts of a girl were to him, and he immediately said "butt, legs, feet, face."  but i submit that it's just "teeth, teeth, teeth, everything else."

this is sick.

Broken Fingaz -Graffiti Stop Motion from Broken Fingaz on Vimeo.

inspired by as you like it.

I'm going to learn how to play the harmonica at the same time I play the guitar. 

And then I'm never going to try at anything else for the rest of my life.  

Because that's basically the biggest achievement you can make.  

haha.

some mates.

these are my current roomies:

here's chavon, who is surprisingly not black.

she has very good bone structure and very good jokes.  she is very nice and polite when she asks me to do the dishes.  far politer than she ought to be, considering i've done the dishes a grand total of two times this whole semester.  what a deadbeat dad i am.

this is a photo of chavon in idaho.  she is looking crazy and putting shoes on her head.  probably because idaho is boring.

there's her sister, colleen, who hates being called "wench."   

this is colleen being fake upset.  she is hardly ever really upset.  one time i thought she was because she and chavon seemed to be having an argument and i felt awkward because i was the only other person in the room and was avoiding eye contact and about to leave and then colleen laughed and said "Claire!  We're just fake fighting!"      

gay.

colleen makes idle threats a lot.  like, "i'm going to kill you."  the photo below shows her idle threat face.     

and here's valerie with her parents.  they appear to be grumpy at the moment.

valerie is dating an asian.  the two of them are very funny together.  and she spanked me the first day we were roommates.  that's when i knew this semester was gonna be something special.  here are some pants she wears sometimes.

next semester i move in with these things:

here's paige, ginger of all gingers.

paige is very multi-faceted.  she acts.  she does efy.  she writes for the DU.  she cooks.  she sings.  she makes awkward noises when i make her uncomfortable.  her legs are very pale.  that is why she is the ginger of all gingers.

look at 'em!

here's hannah the hippie.

she really is.  she wears flannel and likes campfire smell at all times and goes barefoot and loves everyone and OWNS A COPY OF WALDEN.  she even churns her own butter in her trash can.  

and here's april.  or as i like to call her, the face that launched a thousand ships.

i can tell what april is thinking by the way she purses her lips.  and when i tell her this she gets quiet and purses her lips in a way that means she is thinking "i feel very uncomfortable that claire is looking at my lips."

this is april celebrating oktoberfest, as she does annually.

i really really really really really like all 6 of them.

AND THAT'S PROBABLY WHY I NEVER GET ANY HOMEWORK DONE.

i never meant to be a heartbreaker.

it's one of those days.

one of those days where every single boy on BYU campus looks delicious to me.

please go to this website:  http://www.joe-ks.com/babies.htm

make sure your volume is turned up.

creepy, huh?

and this should come as a surprise to no one

i took an online ADD test.

i scored a 94.

70 and above means you "very likely

have adult attention deficit disorder."

after the diagnosis, the website had

the html for a graphic it recommended

i put on my web page. (really?)

look at my crazy little red and yellow add brain go.