Tuesday, December 15, 2009

My Car Just Did That.

Thursday: Scoop some snow, let hands thaw, drive to work and back without a hitch.
Friday: Get out of my parking space just fine, and return with a moody vehicle, unwilling to move into the parking space more than one foot. Doesn't really want to back out either. While this is all just fine and dandy, I realize that Cyride frequents my road, and there is no possible way they will be able get past my car. I make some calls for help, howl and the moon once or twice, light some flares, and return to my car to find Cyride halting their services in respect for my misbehaving car. Without a beat, our trusty Blue South driver picks up his microphone and says, "If any of you want to get to campus on time, we have to push this car out of the way." And as if I were the president in need of help, 6+ guys emerge from the bus and push my car into its rightful spot. Granted, the president would have some bodyguards and stuff to do that already, and he probably wouldn't be driving an '02 Dodge Neon, but that didn't make me feel any less important. I got Cyride to deboard in honor of my car. Don't I feel special.
Saturday: Bum some rides.
Sunday: Lazily study indoors as snow builds and solidifies with an ice topping around my car. Ignore consequences.
Monday: Return from work, briefly get stuck in the same position as Friday, and lightheartedly gather a couple stragglers to push my stubborn car back again.
Tuesday: Scrape car off, attempt to leave for work, but move a slight two feet backward. Feign indifference. Lauren offers her beast of an Explorer, and off to work I go. Car remains at home, butt sticking out into the road, baring her failures. Punishment remains until after my night exam, and car finally gets put in her place for good. Until Saturday.

Good to know my car takes after me: failure in its very purpose of existence.

And a shout out to all my wonderful friends who bless me with their time, labor, and vehicles.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

My life was written by N'sync.

This note-thing looked like fun! It looked like even more fun when I saw N'sync in my iTunes..

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"

Pick your Artist: N'sync (aritist, really?)

Are you a male or a female?
I Thought She Knew

Describe yourself:
God Must Have Spent A Little More Time on You

How do you feel?

Describe where you currently live:
Forever in Your Heart

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?

Your favorite form of transportation is:
I Drive Myself Crazy

Your best friend is a:
Space Cowboy

You and your best friends are:
Bringing 'Da Noise

What's the weather like?

Favorite time of day:
Kiss Me at Midnight

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called?

What is life to you?

Your relationship:
It Makes Me Ill

Your fear:

What is the best advice you have to give?
Tell Me, Tell Me, Baby

Thought for the Day:
Do Your Thing

How I would like to die:
No Strings Attached

My soul's present condition:
Everything I Own

My motto:
This I Promise You

Monday, December 7, 2009

Stop Motion Glory

I have recently been re-introduced to stop-motion videography by my brother, Gabe. Its a really neat technique videographers use that is quite time-consuming, but the effect is really interesting. For those of you that haven't heard of it (which could be none of you, because I'm an old person and don't know anything about real life going on around me), it is made by taking a huge number of photos in which each photo has only a small change. When you put them together, it tells a story in a video-like form, because the subjects look as though they are moving.

Here is my old favorite video. Bear with it. There are some neat effects to be observed and more than a few cackles to be had. However, I think this amazing music video truly does stop-motion justice. Not only does it create a cool story with a different technique, it is a truly out-of-the-box creation.

And I just want to say that I am still refusing to admit that I should be in dead week mode. Friends---count me irresponsible.

Friday, December 4, 2009

I do that. ALL the time.

I always thought twitching was a normal part of life. Sometimes you get a slight cold chill up your spine and do a little shiver. Sometimes your eye muscles begin to spasm slightly. You win some, you lose some. Nay, my friend, not so with I. I have begun to realize that my twitches are increasingly intense, frequent, and perhaps...dangerous?

You know how when you drive by a bunch of trees that the sun is shining through, the light flickers really quickly through them? Couple that with my incompetent muscle functionality, and the killer combination provides not one, but multiple twitches/spasms/convulsions in succession. Yeah, you got it. I look like a seizure victim. Could this potentialy be dangerous? Yes, for two reasons: One-driving is a hard thing to do when you can't fully control your faculties. Two- looking attractive is a hard thing to do when you can't fully control your faculties. Two cons for my single lady's marriage resumé, which I will be posting on my blog soon--keep an eye out, and let all your single brothers and friends and friends' brothers know too.

However, one of the more descriptive memories of my twitch encounters happened earlier this fall as I walked through the halls of Cornerstone Church, carrying some Anthem CDs down to the gym for the Salt Company. Swiftly the twitch overcame my muscles, and without a chance for my mind to object, I soon found my arms thrown to one side, and the precious cds strewn all about the floor. Self-control clearly isn't one of my strong points--so much for the Fruit of the Spirit.

And a health note from your self-designated advisor--
This, my friends, is the devastating affect that poor muscle control can have on one's physical self (and personal self (is that redundant?), as I delegate the responsibility of my singlenesss to this very problem). Don't let those soft and squishy guns fool you--they'll get you back for all the times you've foolishly embarrassed them in attempts to bring friends to the "gun show." The lesson in this? Be wise, my friends. Muscles are people, too.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Hah, I just did that.

I recently got in a car accident. But don't go getting all riled up---the only scratch that came of this accident resides on the side of my car and possibly my brother's pride.

My family all came to town this week, and though because of a dire situation, I absolutely loved having them here. We decided to catch breakfast one morning at Panera, and after some pointless and amusing conversation along with oogling over our one-year old nephew, we departed in two separate cars. Parked opposite of each other, end to end, I commenced backing out of my spot, looking in my mirrors and over my shoulders like any good driver--also denoted as "any good Noll." In the midst of my reverse action, my brother decides instead to be enthralled with our brother-in-law and flies into reverse without any mirror-checking. This is where the denotation of "any good Noll" comes in. I hereby assure that Gabe is, in fact, the least favorite child.

Long story short (I suppose I'm too late for that now), I back my car into the side of his, and instead of concern, laughter ensues from both parties. With a shrug, we continue on to the rest of our day.

That is my family. Well, just one of them, I suppose. I would say you meet one, you've met them all, but we are each entirely different. In case it wasn't obvious from just knowing me, I'm the favorite child. Just sayin, Mom...