Youtube and Stomach Flu

This past week can be defined by the title of this post: Youtube and stomach flu.  Though these two things may not have much in common, they have led me to the same conclusion.

I care about myself and my well-being way too much.

Let's start with Youtube.  Many of you may have already seen my latest youtube video because I shamelessly posted it on my facebook wall, just like I do for all my blog posts.

I had seen Sh*t Girls Say, and Stephen Jones' mormon version, so I thought maybe I'd make a video entitled "Stuff BYU Students Say."  During Relief Society I started to make a list of things I might say in the video.  (Hey, sometimes it can get boring).  By the end of church I had a pretty good list of ideas and immediately started to film when we got home.  Compared to my last music video, this one was super easy.  Lots of little clips with no lip syncing?  Piece of cake.  Of course it wasn't all me.  Meghan acted as my mute friend/boyfriend, Aubrey filmed, and both contributed lines.  Oh, and Meghan let me use her iPhone in the video so that it would make me look cooler.  I hope it worked.

We did all the filming that Sunday, which means we filmed on campus in school clothes while everyone else was still in church.  (BYU students have church in campus buildings because there would have to be a million chapels to accommodate for so many freakin mormons).  So yeah, it was kind of awkward.  By 4pm, we had filmed, edited, and posted the video on youtube.  Not bad if I may say so myself.

I remember how excited I was when the video reached 500 views.  Then 5,000.  Then 1,000,000.  Just kidding, I think it's only around seven thousand right now.  But let's compare those stats to this blog.  Even my most popular posts like Sick of Being Single, and PROM have less than 200 views.  150 vs. 7000.  Apparently people are too lazy to read.

Ok, so back to my thesis statement: I care about myself and my well-being way too much.

While the views continued to increase, I checked the progress constantly.  I was so pumped that people thought it was funny; people that I didn't even know.   I also watched and re-watched the video way too many times.  For the record, it's not funny after the fifth time.  I can only be self-centered for so long without getting critical and disgusted with myself.

And that's how I was grossly self absorbed with my little moment of "fame."  The next example is when my roommate got the stomach flu.   Before I proceed, you need to know one thing about me.  I have problems.  And one of those problems is my fear of throwing up, also known as emetophobia.  I don't worry about it anymore, but when I was a kid it really affected me.  Nothing was worse than throwing up, and I did everything to avoid it.  You know what, this reminds me of a story from my childhood.  Sorry, but now I HAVE to tell it.

As I mentioned earlier, I was terrified of blowing chunks (as my dad would say) which means I was also afraid of food poisoning.  This might be hard to believe, but Jenai wasn't always the perfect older sister.  She knew how cautious I was with food, so she told me a little lie one night when we were eating chili for dinner.

Jenai:  Hey Kristen.
Me: (Looking innocent and adorable) What?
Jenai:  Do you see these dots on the beans? (She points to the kidney beans).
Me:  Yes...
Jenai:  Well, sometimes they can be poisonous.  Most of the beans with spots aren't poisonous, so people eat them anyway.

For the rest of the meal, and many meals after that I picked out the kidney beans from my chili.  Did I mention that ALL kidney beans have spots and that they make up the majority of chili?  I'm not sure how long Jenai let me go through this torture, but one night she burst out laughing and told me that she had made the whole thing up.  I'm telling you, Jenai was kind of evil for the first 12 years of her life.

Wait, what was my point?  Oh yeah, I hate throwing up.  It doesn't ruin my life anymore, but I still hate it.  So when my roommate was sick in bed, feeling horrible and stuff, all I could worry about was whether I was going to get sick too.  I got a ginger ale for Aubrey, but that's about all I did to help.  I mostly just kept my distance, slept on the couch, used the other bathroom, and washed my hands constantly. 

I told you, I'm self-centered.

This has nothing to do with the post, but look how cute Aubrey and I were when were babies.

Sex Ed.

Today at work, while I was performing alienated labor (I work in the MTC dish room), I kept thinking about my health teacher in Middle School.  In a nutshell, we didn't like each other very much.  I thought she was shallow and not very intelligent, and I'm pretty sure she knew I thought that.  

Sometimes I write my favorite teachers/professors letters at the end of the year to show my appreciation for their hard work, etc.  If they were good teachers, I feel like I should let them know, because I do notice and care.  Only once have I written to a bad teacher, and it was for the same reasons.  I felt like she should know, because I definitely noticed, and I definitely cared.

And that's how we get back to the subject of my health teacher. 

At the end of my senior year in high school I wrote her a letter.  I probably shouldn't post it, but I'm going to anyway.

Dear Mrs. alkejhfkasjdhfkjs,

    I’m sure you don’t remember me, or one of the conversations we had back in 7th grade when you were my health teacher.  We had been learning about HIV/AIDS and how to avoid the disease.  This of course connects to the discussion of sex.  I’ll admit, I can’t fully recall the dialogue that led us to our disagreement, but the class was discussing ways to prevent AIDS. People mentioned safe sex and things like that, but I bluntly said that I wasn’t going to sleep around.  We had learned about abstinence from the guest teacher, but you gave off the feeling that this wasn’t possible.  When I told you that I was going to wait till marriage, you told me that I should come back once I finished high school and tell you how that went.  I can still remember the anger I felt when you said those words and I did say that I would come back.  Even though I was only thirteen, I had already made the decision that I was going to wait.  I was naive, and I didn’t know how hard it would be, but I knew that you were wrong.  I was mad at the time, but as I grew, so did my anger because I realized what kind of damage your words could have had on me.  If I hadn’t been so strong in my decision, your words could have discouraged me.  What kind of adult tells a thirteen year old that she most likely won’t be able to stay abstinent?
    Though the majority of people don’t wait till marriage, you had no right to say those words.  I just graduated from Medina High School yesterday, and I am a virgin.  It’s not because I’m ugly or a social outcast; it’s because I made a choice at that young age and I know that it’s worth it.  I have plenty of friends who have made the same decision as me, yet I know many won’t make it through college without slipping up.  I’m not ignorant to reality, but I know - just like I did in seventh grade - that my husband will be my first.
    I hope you change your attitude and approach towards future classes.  Preteens are easily influenced and they need to be guided by wise adults.
 

Sincerely,

Kristen Oda

P.S.  I was voted best looking female in my graduating class.

As a disclaimer, Lily told me to include the post script.  I think it added a nice touch to the end.  But this is pretty heavy stuff, right?  Every time I think back to that conversation, I still get so mad.  It baffles me that she had the nerve to say with a smirk, "Well, come back once you've graduated high school and tell me how that worked out." All I could reply was, "Ok, I WILL."

I knew my mind would go blank and I'd end up missing some key points if I said it to her face, so I wrote her a letter instead. Well guess what.  She actually wrote me back.  This is the card she used.

I'm still not sure if she only had access to ugly cat stationary, or if she purposely picked the ugliest card she could find in spite of me, but either way, that's one unsightly feline.  Her first mistake was writing back, because she can't write.  She wrote in pencil and made at least two grammatical mistakes.  And the worst part: She didn't apologize.  All she did was give some lame excuse about how she wanted to give "students a more realistic perspective."  I JUST WANTED HER TO APOLOGIZE.  Maybe I was being too sensitive, but even if I had been wrong, she should have apologized for offending me.

But alas, all I got was an ugly card with bad grammar and stupid excuses.  And yes, I'm still a virgin by choice.  Maybe I'll write her another letter the day I get married to let her know "how it worked out."