The world is your oyster!: The Importance of Ratios        

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pina-colada flavored italian ice
dance parties
dressing up
love :)


My name is Heather.

I am 22 years old.

I am an East Coast girl
who also loves Utah.

I love my life. How could I not?

The world is my oyster :)
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Monday, February 15, 2010

The Importance of Ratios

In my humanities class, we are learning about Ancient Greece. One of the things we learned is that their sculptures started out very mathematical. In fact, they had a particular ratio that they called the "golden ratio," because everything looked so good when based on this ratio of 5:3. I've actually heard about it in my humanities class, my floral design class, and my history of creativity class, so apparently it's kind of a big deal.

Here's a ratio that I like even moooore than 5:3.....40:7. That is the approximate ratio of boys to girls at a party I attended on Friday, and in my opinion, that is better than 5:3. Like no offense to Euclid....I'm just sayin'.

The party was a pool party that I heard about from Troy. Troy is one of the boys who sold pest control over the summer and one of my absolute favorites. He is from Montana and the very picture of a mountain man. At first we thought he was grouchy and unpleasant, but eventually we discovered that he is actually a giant teddy bear. All gruffness aside, Troy is a sweetheart, and I completely adore him. He is the one I will be calling if I run into any more LoveSac douchebags. (He is also the one who will be DJing at my wedding!)

To give you an idea how close Troy is with our family, he came to our house for Sunday dinner every week. He set me up on a date with one of his mission friends. He frequently has lunch with Kelly and I, now that we are all living in Provo, and makes an effort to keep in touch with the other siblings via facebook. Over the summer, his girlfriend, Heather, came out to visit him, and he brought her to meet us. Mhmm. We are important people in his life. We definitely approved of Heather. She is also a sweetheart and they are so good together.

Anyway. Two weeks ago, Troy called me and asked if I wanted to go to a pool party. I couldn't, but I thought it sounded fun. This week, he told Kelly and I that he would be picking us up at 8, and we didn't really have a choice....we were going to the pool party. It was hosted by a 39-year-old man who sold pest control and is now retired. He has a wife, one 4-yr-old daughter who is adorable, a poolhouse with a pool, hot tub, heated stone floors, and changing room, a Ferrari, a Viper, a Cobra motorcycle, some other car that was covered, an elevator, a theater, pool tables.....basically a perfect life. I think the only thing he doesn't have is hair, since he was bald. He has parties every Friday and just invites a bunch of college kids who might be interested in selling pest control for him over the summer. Well, I'm not interested in that. But I ammm interested in boys that are interested in that, so I was pumped out of my head for this party.

The party was very fun. There was a ton of pizza and soda, and a ton of boys. The lights in the pool house were turned down so no one could tell that I haven't been tan for months. I was planning on just sitting on the side of the pool and cheering for the cute boys playing basketball, but that dream was shattered when they started playing volleyball and I had to actually join in. I am terrible at volleyball, so I was concerned that everyone would regret asking me to join as soon as they realized my lack of skill, but I guess I forgot to take into account the whole ratio thing. Being one of only about 7 girls at this party, they were thrilled to have me. Whenever it was my turn to serve, I got at least 3 tries to send the ball over the net. If it came close, a boy in the front would benevolently tip it over, and play would continue normally. If it went over, I was enthusiastically applauded. Throughout the game, I was profusely praised for merely looking in the right direction. If I stood there stupidly while the ball came sailing right at my face, undoubtedly one of the boys would lunge in front of it, valiantly trying to save me. If this attempt failed, the boy would apologize for getting in my way when he should have just let me have it. From a totally objective standpoint, I was not the team's most valuable player. But based on how quickly the game of choice changed from volleyball to basketball after I left to sit in the hot tub, you might think I was. It all goes back to ratios.

There are going to be pool parties every Friday at 8, and if anyone following this blog wants to come with me to one of them, just let me know :)


  1. I love your blog, almost as much as I love you. I usually laugh out loud when reading it. I tried not to this time, because I am in class, but it did inside. You are a brilliant writer my dear.