The Advanced Stages of Procrastination

I haven't blogged in a long time--nothing too tantalizingly awful has happened in my dating world. In fact, almost nothing. My existence has basically been reduced to tromping around the stage in Christmas Carol, Banquet chicken potpies, doing my roommates' dishes, skipping class and thereby denying its existence by going grocery shopping instead, watching episode after episode of Jon and Kate Plus 8, staring nervously at the clock, thinking about getting around to maybe eventually studying, and, while seriously contemplating thinking about wrapping my mind around some academia, splashing thoughtful murals on the walls of our apartment:::
because our roommate, Wendy, notorious for her hate of all things mentally or physically intimate, has, in fact, been made a girlfriend to a certain Biology Boy. This is the most exciting thing that has happened to our barren apartment in months.
Another activity I have found useful in terms of avoidance and stress-relief is making the occasional Christmas-themed movie with Lanee. Here is a warm and seasonal still from the set of our latest smash hit:
I have also taken the time to document the entire semester's dating pool of our collective apartment membership on our promotional (free, also ugly) white board, only leaving out the people who are too evil or fundamentally unimportant to be drawn. I felt no personal loss of time in the pursuit of this activity. It seemed very important.
I did half-heartedly try to date someone really really really good-looking, to add something romantic to my list of perfectly placed procrastinations. I figured the distraction of a new Man would blow BYU sky-high (BIG EXPLOSION NOISES) and let me concentrate on unimportant things. Alas,

when the person you try to become romantic with is not someone you end up really wanting to be romantic with, and you realize you'd much rather be being romantic with someone you know it really wouldn't work out to be romantic with in the first place, you don't really end up being romantic with the first guy romantically because the second guy, along with EIGHT BILLION ROMANTICALLY SLOW-COOKING TIME BOMB MISSIONARIES, seems to be screaming romantically from your peripheral.
Got it?