Wednesday, December 30, 2009

The Future is Coming

I was sent a link to discover what the year 2010 had in store for me. I've never been big on horoscopes and I'm still not, but this one made me smile. They're so general, it's easy to find similarities between your life and what they say about your life. Still, it's a little creepy how I found myself nodding. And creepier still how I wished it would all come true. Of course, there is nothing specifically mentioned for me to hope to come true. But the ideas are lovely.

"Taurus always gets tagged with things like "pleasure-seeking" and "materialistic." That's probably unfair, in most cases. You're just as good at dishing out the pleasure as you are at seeking it, and who doesn't like a few nice things around? Sadly, there's been just too much struggle in your life the last couple of years when it comes to those two very important parts of your life. Thankfully, 2010 marks the end of that long uphill struggle. Your pleasurable pursuits have been a little more restricted than you'd like over the course of the last two years or so. That's over with now, so ... game on!

"The big events this year will not so much be a matter of major happenings as they will be things that have been in the works and are slowly revealing themselves. In the last two years, you've put a lot of work into what makes you happy, while Saturn transited your solar Fifth House. Now that those pressures are finally being relieved, you'll find you are finally gaining traction. Certainly, your love life and your career will feel the difference, but beyond that you'll notice things going a lot better in other departments of your life. You may have already noticed some of these changes starting to kick in; the real results start happening around your birthday in 2010."

SO, there it is: my lovely year. What for sure will be happening?

I will turn nineteen (Gosh, I feel older. And younger. But mostly older).
I will move OFF campus (hallelujah).
Melissa will be home, eventually becoming my roommate.
I have to get a job (stupid money).
For said birthday, I will definitely be seeing Iron Man 2.

THEN, the dreaded New Year's Resolutions. I don't like goals; I like dreams. Wishes. Hopes. So, what do I want to happen?
Boyfriend, definitely.
My writing--in some form--will be published (Contests have been entered, things have been written).
I will not be married.
Be able to pay for college (stupid money).
Lose weight rather than gain wait (Hey, it's the traditional New Year's whatever).
To make it one more year and be the better for it.

2010 just sounds funny, doesn't it? Like there should be flying cars or people living in space or the downfall of America as we know it. Something, at least. But it seems like life just goes on. Another year, a new digit. It's crazy, standing here--feeling pulled between adolescence and adulthood. Everything is clamoring in my head for my attention. I think about my future--since when? I used to be a little girl who played with barbies and was socially awkward. The latter is still true, I suppose, depending on who you ask. But now I think about grades, classes, aspirations--realistic ones--reality, other people. It's all new territory, flying cars or not. In any case, I'm glad I get another year to figure things out. In the words of a rising legend (insert sarcastic tone), "Life's a climb, but the view is great."

YOU know what I mean.

Monday, December 28, 2009


FOR me at least, christmas is all about being with family, so I thought I'd give you a rundown about my family. Cool, huh?

FIRST up, my parents (Of course, they are Two people, but who doesn't pair their parents together?). I came home eager for one thing especially: Avatar. Heck-freakin-yes. And my parents knew it. And I easily got them to agree to take me and the entire family to see it--in 3D. They all were less than eager. Ashley thought it looked "stupid," mom thought she'd get sick, dad was just going along to please me, Travis used the word "dumb" more than once, and Laura had no desire. Mostly it was Justin and I, but me primarily. And so we went. And it was freaking amazing. The plot line--not so much--but the graphics were killer. But best of all--everyone (except travis) loved it. Or at least enjoyed it. Sweetest of all? Mother--probably the least willing--loved it the most. Even more than me, I think. And how she groveled for forgiveness for ever doubting my expertise in the movie arena. Ah, that was wonderful.

NEXT, Ashley. This christmas Ashley got a Tribble. For those of you who don't know (which is probably every single person on this earth aside from Ashley) a Tribble is a...creature in Star Trek. It's a ball of fur that purrs. And Ashley got one. The best part of Christmas Day (after the presents and food) was making the tribble squeal. We discovered rather quickly that any sudden noises made the thing vibrate and "purr" loudly in an annoyingly repetitive way. So at random intervals, we would shout, bark, yap, scream--all in hopes of making the little ball of fur dance. It was great.

JUSTIN--who should be happy now that I mention my love for him here--made a stop-motion movie of the nativity story. It was pure genius. And he made an awesome set of fluffy clouds and starry nights and glue and wire and paint and cardboard and tears and sweat. And lots and lots and lots of pictures. Here is the link to the uploaded, completed version which will surely change your life.

MELISSA spoke to me!! I love her. Nine days!!!!

TRAVIS drove Laura and I to see Sherlock Holmes. And that movie is so amazing. It's genius. It's entertaining. It's awesome. I love Robert Downey Jr.; I Love Jude Law. It was great. I'm seeing it again for sure. And Travis then took us out to Cafe Rio which was delicious. I love that place. We also rocked out to Weezer (Lying on the floor! lying on the floor I come undone!) which just brings forth a plethora of memories.

LAURA shall be my last mentioning. What to say, what to say. Oh, yes--"Wild Child." We snuggled up so very close and watched that movie. It was a stupid british film where Emma Roberts pretended she had the talent of her aunt (sorry, not happening). What kept us watching was Alex Pettyfer. Holy-freaking-gorgeous. Blonde, british, blue-eyed god of glory. He was insanely attractive; we were both drooling. yummay.

ALL in all it was a great holiday. I love holidays. Almost as much as I love family (awww!!!!). So, here's to a new year with tons more memories!

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

My Roommate, the Robot

TODAY, I agreed to go to the creamery with Sydney--for her own well-being. Because she was suffering from a little cabin fever or something. Finals do something to people. They go crazy. Sure enough, as I was clinging to her as I skated across frozen sidewalks, she was pulling away from me, showing her dominance over the snow by stepping violently into it, marching determinedly through it.


AND on the way back, she completely lost it. She went all Terminator on me and marched around shouting "DESTROY!" as she kicked up the snow and bounded about like a robot. I about died, I was laughing so hard at her. Then on the way to FHE, she did it again. She just plowed through the snowbanks, screaming "DESTROY" even as we tried to carry on a conversation around her. Leslie and SArah didn't seem to notice anything; they just went on, talking merrily about the cold and finals. But I was cracking up, watching Sydney--so serious--march through the snow, screaming like a madman. She was walking like a Nazi, too, you know, because there's better snow velocity when your kick your legs up like that.

JUST "Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!" again and again. Finally, I wrangle her closer as we approach an area of shiny pavement. Leslie, in her most motherly tone, says "There's black ice over here." And I slow down because I see it shining, so threateningly. But Sydney is still shouting her chant and as we come to it her feet go flying--her chant came to an immediate stop. Luckily, I was holding on so tightly I saved her from falling. And what did she do? She laughed a little, then melted back to seriousness and pranced about the snow some more.

PSYCHO, I say. Psycho.

IT was hilarious.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

I Love My Life. A Lot.

OH, happiness! I feel so...Glee-ful :)
[Glee had THE best finale of a show I have ever seen.
I just keep thinking about it,
then I keep smiling.
And then I smile more.
And then I wish I could watch it again and again
and again.
Oh, heart!]
SO, mostly, that made my day all the merrier.
[Seriously, now:
can't stop smiling]
LESLIE and Elly and I were on the edge of our seats, practically dying. Well, I was mostly dying. I think I get too emotionally involved with fiction--I was practically having a seizure with all the stress in the beginning and then, oh--then that ending! We all started screaming. I almost hyperventilated.

NOW I have to wait till spring. Hey, at least it's spring and not fall again. Oh, Glee! I loved it at first, the second bothered me, I grew into it as it went on, and now I am a FIRM fan. I even joined the facebook group, so that settles it.

IN Glee related news, on the way home from St. George--a very long way home, mind you--I was enjoying my glee playlist. I have nine songs and I know them all by heart. So I was singing them. Because I was bored out of my mind and you can't listen to Glee music without singing, it's impossible. And, mind you, I am a terrible singer. But I got through 6 (six, read it, six) songs before anyone even began to shut me up. Which I think is a pretty good record. That's about 20 minutes of me pretending I can sing with the likes of Kristin Chenoweth and people singing like Celine Dion. Ya, brownie points to me. But then they all told me to shut up so I had to stop. Still, I was oh-so-very gleeful.

IN un-Glee related news, I am back to believing the North Dakota conspiracy. Why? Because as I was filling out my voter registration, it said in the General Information section that "North Dakota does not have voter registration." Why, you ask? Why indeed. Something is not right when a US state cannot vote. Smells...fishy. Or alien-ey. My dad seems to think it is because only crazy people live in ND and the government doesn't want crazy people to vote. (Of course, if that were true, California would be out of the equation. Because they are psycho's--did you know there is a Chihuahua crisis happening there right now? Ya. A chihuahua crisis. Google it.). I dunno what it is, but ND is just...weird. I mean, you never hear of anything over there and you never meet people from there and, now, you find out they can;t vote. cRaZy.

NOW I am finished. And I am still gleeful.
Really? I love it.
So much.]

Friday, December 4, 2009


IT'S that time of year!! Too bad it doesn't feel like it.

BEFORE Thanksgiving, I couldn't stop listening to Christmas music--which is truly weird because I hate people who listen to holiday music before December. But I just wanted to be home and it made me feel happy inside. Now--well, now, I just don't want to. I'm sick of it; I'm distracted; it doesn't feel right. Which is sad. Because I love Christmas. I just wanna be home.

FINALS are stupid. School is stupid. I wish I could be home, lying under the tree, listening to cheesy Christmas songs, my feet resting by the fire place. I don't want to think about what this or that piece of art means to me; I have no desire to write an argument paper concerning devotional; there is no part of me that wants to study the history of gothic architecture or the language development of three year olds. But I have no choice. Because I am here to get smart and get A's. Which I actually think I'm on the right track for.

BOM2 is proving a more difficult class just because there are so little points involved. So, you miss a few, your grade plummets. But I think I'll have at least an A letter grade.

ANTHRO, I should pull through with an A. Especially since--happy moment--I got 187/190 on a research paper for a book I didn't even read. How is that for BSing skills? Thank you.

H150 I have at least an A-, but I think I could get an A.

HUMANITIES is hard to tell because he doesn't use blackboard and he gave us no grading rubric. If I were to guess, I'd go with a high B.

HUMAN Development--gag me. I hate that class. Probably a B. And it's annoying because I just discovered I didn't even have to take it--I had a previous class that could have double counted. Sigh.

BUT that is the breakdown. And once I suffer through these next two weeks, I will be a Sophomore! Booya. I, at 18 years of age, will be ahead of my 23-year-old sister. That is a definite esteem booster. :) Except now Laura will take this information and will be determined to either become a sophomore in college when she's seventeen (so that she can say she beat me to it) or she will try to actually graduate before me. Which would basically be very sad for me. But that's just her--overtly competitive. In fact, mother, you should beware because she will probably try and beat me to having a boyfriend and/or first kiss. ANd her 16th birthday is coming up, so she is gaining on me. Of course, that's not a subject that is entirely hard to pass me up in.

I love you, Laura :)

SO, yes, it is the most wonderful time of the year. And I'm sure it will feel more like it once I get these two last papers out of my way, then pass my five finals. Then I'll be home and it will be christmas and I will be cozy and fighting with family and hugging it out and eating yummy food and, yes, listening to Christmas music.

AND, just in case you were wondering, 32 more days till Melissa is home!

Sunday, November 29, 2009

It's Been Awhile

SO, Thanksgiving has come and gone, the turkey has been slaughtered and stuffed, BYU has won its game, christmas season has started, someone got their first kiss, I lost faith in american society thanks to a little thing called Twilight, and yet in fifty years I'll have no memory of it because I didn't bother to take the time and write about it on this very blog. So, sucks to be me in fifty years. But the weekend was fun. Oh, I love extra-long weekends. Being lazy, getting fat, doing nothing, forgetting homework--it is all a great part of the holidays.

(I would have used an exclamation mark there, but my english professor told me I have four exclamation points in my life so I better use them wisely. And that just seemed like a moment where I could go without. So--yay for me--I still have four!
oh, dang it.)

I'M back home* with my roommates and we're already crazy. I am happy to report I have scared both Sarah and Leslie twice already (a pretty easy job, mind you. Though Leslie is becoming a harder target) and I also made Elly pee her pants (figuratively speaking) by talking to her through her vent. My room is back to being set up perfectly--I am surrounded by books and movies and pillows and high beds. Except I have to go back to school in the mornin'. Sad.

YOU should be happy to know that I only have five things left on my checklist. Four being my research papers. Still. It's pretty impressive, considering. And there is only two more weeks of classes. Then finals. Oh, joy.

BUT I am tired and yet fulfilled and happy and I want to curl up and sleep. Note to anyone who cares: I smell like mommy cuz I hugged her so tight.

I love family.

This is all.

Oh, and Michelle:
Jay Kay


*Dear mom, you are still my number one home, but it's just easier to call Provo home. Don't take offense.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Oh My Bored.

I am so bored. Terrifically so. I just want it to be Thanksgiving already. I wanna be home, in my mommy's lap, eating my daddy's food, whining about playing Settlers of Katan, hugging Laura for the first time in, like, forever, and eating turkey. (That would be one sweet, multitasking moment).

TODAY I found out I can type relatively well without looking at the keyboard/computer.

The sky is a blue place of greatness which makes my heart go a'flutter.

BOO'YA! Go me. This is a fun game.

I want to go to bed and dream of sugar plums and ft fairies.

OKAY. I'll stop. But you get the point: I'm bored.

ALSO, I made a checklist of all that needs to be done for the rest of the semester. (Note: there are only twelve more days of scheduled classes.) On that list is five (5) research papers. As in 7-10 pages with 7-10 sources of gloriousness. Five. Ya. This is where I freak out.

I have my Humanities paper--anything we've covered this semester. I'm thinking Emily Dickinson or The Hudson River School. Then, my Human Development paper--research on any-terribly-boring-thing we've learned this semester. Probably eating disorders because there are always sources on that; or there's the "mean girl" scenario which is pretty entertaining. I have my Book of Mormon paper--which shouldn't be too bad since I already did a rough and just have to correct it. I have TWO (2) research papers due in the next three-friggin-weeks for Anthropology (do not get me started on this class). What on? Why, the professor's own-friggin-books of course. UGH. Not to mention, I also have a group (read it--group) paper due in Honors Writing. How do you write a paper as a group? You don't. You have a lone writer that you give all your notes to, then that writer writes it and the group then tells you how bad it sucks. Who is the writer on that one? Me. Joy. Plus, our group president just had Lasik surgery--as in yesterday. So I don't know how that's gonna pan out. But that paper is only 3-5 pages without sources, so it shouldn't be too bad. Still. Twelve class days, people. Twenty-one days total.

wow. I did not realize that. Major suckage.

But it's okay. I've been really good; I've stayed on top of things, I have relatively high grades and I have plenty of time and now I have my checklist. So why am I bored, you wonder? Well, because my brain is tired of working so I don't know what to do during my break. Because I can't think. Because I don't remember what fun is. And because one of these research papers is due on Monday and I haven't read his stupid book. Curses to you, anthropology. Curses.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

I Went Insane

SO, on Wednesday, my dad needed my student I.D.. I tried to call his cell. But if there's one consistent thing about daddy it's that he never answers his phone. So I called home. I. called. home. Home being the crucial part of that phrase. It says it right in my phone: I called HOME at 6:59, right after calling dad at 6:58.

WELL, someone answers, and this is the conversation.

Me: Hello?
Someone: Mumbling
Me: Hello?
Someone: mumbling, statically
Me: Mom? Hello?
Someone: (whispering) I can't talk right now. I'll call you back.

I swear on my life, it was Laura. And that's weird. Because, remember, i called HOME. That place where Laura is not at. Laura lives in St. George. Not at HOME. And I called home. I did. I have the proof. And so it really weirded me out. Really. Weirded. Me. Out. Really being the crucial part of that phrase (I don't know why, it just is). So I called mom's cellphone. She answered. And it was mom, not laura. So I asked her if I had just called. She said yes. I asked if I had talked to her. She said yes. I told her it had sounded like laura. She said Laura was in St. George. Thank you. But that doesn't change the fact that Laura had answered, whispering about not being able to talk. Mom said I was a psycho and gave the phone to dad. I told dad I was insane and he said I was a psycho and hung up.

I have never been more confused. And they were very unhelpful. So I watched "Glee." And then Laura called. Freak. Out. Laura. Called. Laura being the crucial part of that phrase.

SHE said she was sorry for not being able to talk earlier. I asked if she was playing me; if mom and dad had put her up to this. She laughed and said I was psycho. I told her I had called home and she had answered. She told me she was in St. George. Thank you. But she assured me the conversation I had had when I called HOME was, indeed, the same conversation we had. How? I don't know, because I had called HOME. Where Laura assuredly was not. So I asked, again, if she had been put up to this. Because it wasn't funny.

I never called Laura. My phone says so. I never put in a call to Laura. Only home. Home being the crucial part of that phrase.

OH my gosh, it still makes me feel crazy. I have no idea what happened. Only that mom and laura both claimed to have a conversation with me at the same time--when I was calling HOME.

ANY ideas? Because, right now, I'm leaning towards an alien abduction where they took over my body and did something crazy-freaky weird. That's what I'm feeling. Nothing else makes sense.

Thursday, November 5, 2009


(my bubbles)
SO, I got a Jamba Juice today. A delicious "coldbuster." Not because I was sick, but because it. is. SICK. OJ all the way, baby. Anyways, Leslie was with me and we were walking home and I started bowing bubbles in my jamba. Which is highly entertaining.

YOU know, with drinks and thinner stuff and such, when you blow it just bubbles in a boil-esque fashion. But with the slushi, it rumbles and then--pop!--a bubble bursts forth. It is so awesome. We were just walking across campus, blowing bubbles and laughing. Her drink was thinner, so it wasn't as awesome. I was having a merry old time blowing slowly so the rumble was big and the explosion small. But then Leslie made me laugh. And that laugh went into the straw. And it made it bubble. And, boy, did it make it explode. It blew out of the lid and all over my face, my shirt, my hair. OJ got in my nose. Which is about as comfortable as a wedgie in public.

IT was bad.

IT was also hilarious. We both had to stop walking, we were laughing so hard. I was covered in my precious cold juice and we were just laughing. Sydney's parents were waiting at are apartment, but I couldn't chat. One, because my green shirt was speckled--no, bedazzled--by orangeness. Two, because the orange drink was stinging my nose, my eyes, and covering my face. And, three, because I was laughing. So hard.

THIS is why I don't get why some people don't appreciate their own klutziness. I for one think it is highly entertaining. Imagine if that hadn't happened. What a lame day it would have turned out to be.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Hallows Eve

I'M not much of a Halloween fan. It's cold and people do creepy things--like stalk you cuz it's funny, and people think Halloween is a free pass to be creepy. No, it's not.


SO I didn't have any real plans. I woke up late and then I was bored so I curled my hair but didn't go anywhere. I also did homework and wasted time because everyone was gone. But, good news: I skyped Laura for an hour in a half. She found the "Accepted" scream (on Youtube) hilarious. And I talked to Justin for like an hour (Look, Justin, you're mentioned!) And then at 9 my roomies and Elly and I went to the International Theater to watch this Swedish horror flick that looked really creepy. It's called Let the Right One In and it's fairly recent. It's all about this little girl who is a vampire and the little pale girlish-looking boy who falls in love with her. It is so random, so gruesome, and so not scary. It was just disturbed. And random. At one point, the girl falls/jumps from a tree onto this random character but can't kill her all the way, so the woman gets infected and then, at the hospital, when she wants to die, she asks the doctor to open the blinds and the sun pours in and--BAM!--she bursts into flames. What the? Yes, it was so weird. And just uncomfortable.

BUT right as the movie started, this "pack" of "zombies" came clambering through. College kids just think they are so funny. The guy in charge of the theater got so mad. He's all, "I'm calling the cops, fagots." Um, ya, wow, anger issues.

ALSO, there was this seven minute preview for a movie coming next week. The whole trailer was just chinese people doing some freakish form of yoga on the beach. It was hilarious.

SO, after the disappointment of a movie, we decide to stay up and watch the time change--at two in the a.m. We watched The Invasion and it was all super intense--until the online copy cut off twenty minutes from the end. It was right in the middle of the chase; they were being taken down by the invaded and then.... Nothing. I couldn't find another version so they didn't get to see the end. Haha sucka's.

WATCHING the time change was magical (regardless of what Ashley says). It was supposed to turn to three in the a.m and then--it was 1. We got a redo! It was like an hour of our lives never happened. It was erased, gone forever. Which is pretty cool. But then I just spent my new chance in bed, sleeping because I was tired. Because it felt like four...three....two (??) in the morning.

BUT that's my Halloween. I know, scary, right? Negative.

Your face.
Your mom's face
your dad's body


Thursday, October 29, 2009

My Life is Brilliant

(my love is pure...I saw an angel...of that I'm sure...she smiled at me on the subway...she was with another man...and I won't lose no sleep at night cuz I got a plan. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!)

ANYWAYS. Ashley has found me a bit of heaven. Ahem* Drum roll, please......

I am the owner of a Macbook Pro.

Look at it, in all its sleekness. And it's mine.

HOW very pretty. Lovely, lovely. It seriously made my life. Unwrapping it from its box--it changed my world.

SO, this is love. Sweet.

Sunday, October 25, 2009


THE other night, Elly, Leslie, Sydney and I went to the international theater. They were showing "Dark Water," a Japanese horror film. Ya. Japanese movies are psycho. To the extreme. It was all really random and then it just got disturbed--with this asparagus-esque girl stalking a woman and her child, dripping from ceilings, filling up bathtubs. Joy. But, with all its freakiness, it was pretty creepy. And that night, I was lying in bed in the dark and my mind started to dark water. So I put my ipod in and played solitaire for an hour and then, as soon as I turned it off, I heard this creepy dripping noise and my heart stopped. Like, holy hannah on toast. Freak. Out. But it was okay; no green children tried to drown me.

I played card games with Elly yesterday.

WE played a game that is sort of like Scrabble...but not. It's called Slam and you take a four letter word and change out one letter at a time to make new words. Like FATE to FAME and so forth. Well, we wanted to be awesome and make the game-for-8-year-olds harder. So I was all "What about MUCK?" thinking PUCK and SUCK. But Elly gasps, and says "NO!" Ya. Somebody has a dirty mouth. So we didn't play MUCK....

ACTUALLY, we wound up playing Phase Ten with Adelay and her lover-boy. It was pretty fun. Except everyone had a vendetta against little ole me. Especially said lover. He decided the Skip card stood for Shelby. Joy. (It's just because I'm so good and they felt threatened).

AND, fyi, Newsies songs are stuck in my head.

"Santa fe!!!!"

Friday, October 23, 2009

So Much For Excitement

I was supposed to have some wicked sweet story. But it has been a week and, alas, no wickedness or sweetness.

I am considering swallowing some pistols. For I am without a computer and, therefore, without my life. It really is hard not having my beautiful, lovely laptop. Sigh*

IT all began when my computer started breathing. Yes, breathing. Long, deep sighs of sadness. So I texted ashley and here follows the conversation:

Me: Ashley, my computer is breathing.

Ashley: explain

Me: it keeps whirring.

Ashley: can I have [it's] numba'? Can I have it? Can I have it?

Me: [number]

Ashley: It looks like you're in need of a check-up

Me: What?

Ashley: Give it to me, baby (Uh huh, oh ya!)

Me: How do I live without a computer??

Ashley: I'm sorry.

LOVELY, isn't it? My question is since when are computers in need of check-ups. Like babies. Like little children going to kindergarten? How did my computer become synonymous with sniffling babies? But I guess computers are people too and, sometimes, they need a doctor. It just makes life hard. And it is ridiculous.

ALL because my computer wanted to breathe.

SO that is my life: without a computer for a week. In college. I might go insane.

(Case in point: I am using a Toshiba right now. It fails. I want to snap it in half. Forget check-up's--I want to send this computer to the ER.)

Friday, October 16, 2009

Haha, Sucka

FOR Ashley, who felt unloved in Laura's great shadow.


So, because she tempted me, I will now show the world Ashley's version of Awesomeness.

Look at de wittle Ashley!! Oh, so cute*

And, yes, she did wear dresses.
Once upon a time.
Till dad introduced her to Levi's.

Now she hates Levi's and dresses.
which is ironic.

Ah, Ashley.
No, she does not play hockey.
She skates as her dogs pull. And she protects herself in this manner.
Such a poster child for "Safety First," isn't she?

AND, to fully show my love for her, I have here a song that is the epitome of Ashley the Great. Be prepared.

THAT is my tribute to Ashley. She is awesome. And I can't NOT think of her when I hear the awfulness that is Hampton the Hamster. (Ugh. I'm gonna eat a pistol...)

Thursday, October 15, 2009

the Eulogy

BUT not really. Because Laura didn't die. And this is for her. Because she is awesome and I am so proud to call her sister. (Actually, I call her Laura, but you get the point).

LAURA is a sophomore at Tuachan High School, which is a charter school focusing on the performing arts. Blah bleh blah blah blah. Right. Whatever. BUT, today, she was cast as a (supporting) leading role in the school play!!! As a sophomore! Which is aWeSoMe!! AmAzInG!!! sPeCtAcUlAr!!! Just plain EPIC. Oh, it makes me so happy. I am so proud to call her my little sister.

SHE gets to play a nine year old girl in White Christmas! How cool is that?! super. And I get to see her (don't i, mom? Yes.) and it is going to be awesome! At Tuachan!

ANYWAYS, back to the eulogy part of this.

this is laura.
this is normal face for laura.
I heart laura.

plus, it looks like she farted.
Hence the joyful expression on her face.


Here is Laura.
Melissa cut her hair.
It was a dark time.

Her acting was the only way she survive*

(*may be a fabricated statement,
but mostly true.)

and here is proof of her further awesomeness.
if this does not prove her worthiness for such a part, you are insane.

AND Laura remains awesome.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Mommies and...Nope, That's About It

IN english today, we were having discussions about the various articles we've read so far. The game was, there were four chairs in the middle of the room and whoever wanted to talk got to sit in one of the chairs; other people could tap in as the discussion went on. Right.

WELL, it was pretty dull for the first 15 minutes. The discussers zoomed through two (lame) articles and time was not going fast enough. But then an article on motherhood came up. Written by a non-LDS writer, it's a personal narrative of a stay-at-home mom who thinks it (staying at home as a mother) is the greatest job ever and she never regrets it. And, boy, do some girls have some strong opinions on that one. Girls were flying in and out and I was finding myself nodding or shaking my head. I never really thought I had a strong opinion on that. Or at least I didn't recognize my opinion. But once people started saying things I couldn't agree with--things that were different from my opinion--I started to realize what, exactly, my stand on it was. People were talking passionately--yet kindly--about their views on career woman, motherhood, etc. And eventually the teacher--who is a woman and a mother and obviously working--had to sit in and give her ten cents. Of course she pointed out that it is sometimes--more often than not, now--economically impossible to be a stay-at-home mom. Which I agree with, for obvious reasons (I love my mom). And then this guy gets in--one of the first, so everyone sort of chuckles at him. He is the cute one that I enjoy flirting with. But he sits in and says that he thinks motherhood is the best thing a woman can do and that that should be the first goal in a woman's life. What really bothered me though were the girls who were all "Women need degrees--just in case their spouses die." Like, isn't that just asking for some built-up resentment when you have this degree you worked so hard getting and your husband just won't die?? And on the off-chance that he does die, the chances are slim that your degree will still matter. Or what if you never marry? Shouldn't you be at college, pursuing a degree/career because you want to? Is BYU really so stereotypical that girls really do come just to get married?

I have dreams. Sure, one is being a mother--preferably an at-home mother. And I want to get married; I want a spouse who can support me and said-children. But that is not why I'm here. I am here, spending my (parent's) hard earned money because I have dreams. And some concern a career outside of housewivery. I am here, not to learn to be the best mother, but to be the best me. It's not that I'm a feminist, sticking it to the man and DIY-ing it all. But I want to be a mother who can show her kids that she dreamed. And not only that, but that she reached her dreams. At least some of them. I want to be who I dream of being. And I want to do it without stereotypes looming over me. I know women are meant to be mothers. But that doesn't mean they can't be mothers with degrees and goals.

DON'T get me wrong: I love stay-at-home mothers. I loved having my mommy home. I think women who fit that stereotypical baking-cookies-in-curlers-and-pearls mold are amazing. Mothers totally kick trash. But for me, personally, I don't want to live my life thinking of how to be a stay-at-home mom. Right now, I'm living for me. Call me selfish, but I'm here for me, now; not possible/hopeful family and children in the future. Right now, I'm dreaming and I'm working towards those dreams. And I think that is what is eventually going to make me a good mother, be it stay-at-home or not. I'm not rushing to shove in all my experience before I get married and therefore am expected to put all my hard work on the shelf. No, because, for me, I want to show my kids that you can dream, no matter your sex or the smothering stereotypes around you. I want to show them that I dreamed up something--and that I'm still dreaming. Maybe I'm not Hannah Montana and I can't get the best of both worlds, but I sure am gonna try.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

My Life Is Boring


NOTHING is happening. This week has been uber lame. Omigosh. I've been doing homework 24/7 which is ridiculous. Most of the time, I'm in my room on my computer, silent and bored to tears. I get distracted with music, T.V. shows, really random thoughts. Yesterday, I was studying away and then I realized it was dark. Like, what the crap is with that?

IT'S been superbly unspecial. I've been living off of OJ and pretzels without really realizing that is all I've eaten. The day just melts away before I realize I'm hungry and I have had nothing real to eat. Sigh*

BUT yesterday, Michelle came over and it was a party. We watched The Mask of Zorro. Which isn't as good as The Legend of Zorro (Antonio Banderas got old....) but is still highly entertaining.

"It belongs in a museum...
and so do you."

THEN we got lost on Memory Lane. Man alive, a lot has happened--a lot happened in High School. And now we're in college. crAzy. And I introduced her to which happens to be hilarious. (That, too, has distracted me.) People just post random stories that make me LOL. haha.
Some favorites?
Today I was eating a cupcake when the phone rang. I panicked and stuffed the entire cupcake into my mouth. I still don't know why I did that. MLIA
Today I was babysitting my younger cousin when she asked for some gummy bears. Since there were two colors in the package I asked her if she perfered green or yellow, she replied the taste didn't matter since she just liked biting their heads off and being in control of their fate. She's four. She will achieve great things. MLIA
Today I was in the store and had a little girl, about 5 or 6 years old, storm past me, clearly upset. She slammed the box of cereal she was carrying back onto the shelf and turned to walk away again. As she passed me I heard her mutter 'that stupid unicorn has messed me up for the last time'. So many questions. MLIA
Today, my boyfriend broke up with me. I didn't know what to do, so I killed the Sim I made of him. I felt much better. MLIA.
Today, I was at the bakery when I heard a little girl hyperactively telling her mother she wanted a Hannah Montana cake, to which her mother replied, "But you don't even like Hannah Montana!" The little girl nonchalantly responded, "I know, I just want to eat her face." Our youth is doing just fine. MLIA.
Today, I was at Costco with my dad shopping for groceries. I was in the mood for Naked brand orange juice, so I turned to my dad and said, very loudly and casually, "Daddy, can we get Naked?" I have never heard Costco shoppers fall silent so quickly. MLIA
Today, expecting to get the answer 'penguins,' I asked my three year old cousin what kind of birds don't fly. She turned to me and said quite calmly and earnestly, "Dead ones." My day was made. MLIA.
Today, my dad was eating some chinese food and made a weird coughing/sneezing noise. I imediately started laughing and said, "That was unexpected." My dad responded, "So were you." I stopped laughing. MLIA
Today I saw a guy thumbing for a ride carrying a chainsaw. My life is complete. MLIA.
Today, I was walking through campus and I saw a squirrel behind a tree. I thought it would be funny to jump out from behind the tree and scare it. I jumped out at the squirrel, and in his confusion the squirrel ran towards me. I have never been more scared in my life. MLIA
Today, I realized that if you say "oops" my dog runs over and looks for food on the floor. I have taught him well. MLIA
Today, while waiting for my friend to come out of the bathroom at the mall, I saw a man walk into the men's bathroom, and come out 2 minutes later with an ice cream cone. I never wished I was a man more than I did at that moment. MLIA.
Today, I was playing with my sister when she suddenly slapped herself and screamed "OW. That hurt." My dad yelled at me for hitting my sister. I then explained to him what happened and he understood. A few minutes later, I slapped my sister, and she yelled the same thing. My dad then yelled at her to knock it off. I win. MLIA.
SO, ya, sorry my life hasn't been all that postable. But I promise something exciting will happen--it has to. Just be ready.

Friday, October 9, 2009


I hate doctors.

EYE doctors are the spawn of Satan, intent on swindling you for all your (parent's) worth.

THIS is enough.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Albanian School Drop-out

I went home for the weekend and, I've gotta say, I love my family. Though most of them weren't there, we still managed to be hIlArIoUs. Let me tell you. But first--a flashback.

ONCE when Justin was fourteenish, he had to do a project for his german class. So he was concocting who-knows-what in a neighbors blender, pretending to do an infomercial in German. Well, he was pouring in this, mixing in that and then he decided to stir it all around--as the blender was going. He stuck a spoon down and, of course, everything exploded. It was hilarious. And we got it on tape, so it is priceless.

WELL, today dad was making smoothies and he's laughing with Ashley and I and he pulls out a wooden spoon and he's all "Hey, who am I?" And he starts pretending to speak German, animatedly playing with the spoon in the blender, careful to keep it from going to far when--BAM!--he slips and the wooden spoon is caught in the blade and the smoothie explodes everywhere. Ashley and I burst out laughing. Dad got this huge boyish-grin-of-surprise and mom's all "What were you thinking?!" We're all just laughing; dad goes sheepish. The purple smoothie was everywhere. Dad's pants, the floor, counters, shelves, the ceiling. And Ashley and I couldn't stop laughing. Omigosh it was hilarious. Like, seriously. Dad's german, trying to mock a situation, thinking he had control. Oh, funny. So ironic, really. It's one of those moments that make you just gotta love life. We spent the rest of the evening sipping at the smoothie precariously, finding random chunks of wood of various sizes, all blended together beautifully. A great source of protein.

MAN, I wish we could have gotten it on tape. That was funny.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

This Is Me Avoiding Homework

OF course, I have just done homework for three hours straight. Which is a new record for me. I've never had to do so much homework in one sitting. I don't really like it. At all. Stupid seven-page study guide.

FUNNY story: I bought my first ink cartridge (which is hard to do, actually. There are about a million kinds of ink cartridges; how was I supposed to know/remember what printer I had? I had to go back home and look it up then I had to google which cartridge was for that one. psch.). And I was on Skype with Laura (who is adorable and super sexy), trying to print a paper at the same time. I thought I had enough ink in my old one to get me through one more paper. But it wouldn't print. So I change cartridges--yes, I managed. And.... Nope. Still wouldn't print. I was so PO'ed. Ugh. I was ready to rip my hair out or shoot small rodents. So I tell Laura I have to go, because it's hard to concentrate when she's making weird faces to surprise you when you're not looking. So I get off and I rip open my printer and pull out my ink cartridge, cursing it and all its closest friends and family. That's when I noticed.

The protective sticker was still on.

I managed to laugh in a sad, pathetic sort of way. I took it off, put it in, and my paper printed without problem. So, there, I do have blonde moments. Just not as frequently as others do (Laura.)

IT was pretty funny.

SO I have a bunch of laundry that needs washed, but I want to wait because I'm going home friday and that way it doesn't cost me a dollar. So, this week marks the first week of me not washing my clothes once a week. I know, Ashley, you're probably disgusted by my lack of hygiene. Since you wash your clothes so often.

THAT'S that then. I should probably do more homework. Gross.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Mm What You Say

WE were standing in the lobby talking about Johnny Depp when Leslie suddenly whispered--and I quote--"Snape is attractive." Hold the freaking phone. Say WHA?? Ya. That's what she said. We just stopped talking and stared at her. I asked if I was high or if she really had admitted to thinking a forty-something, bitter, crabby, crooked-nosed, greasy-haired wizard actually constituted "attractive." She said her friends and her had a HP marathon where they decided he was good--sure--and attractive. Her reasoning? Because he had cool sleeves. Yes, Snape is now considered attractive because he has hot sleeves. Sexy-sleeved Snape. Lovely.

IN other news, Laci woke up deciding to redo the kitchen set-up. I walked in to find, not only had she swept, but the chairs were everywhere and the couch was skewered into a corner. I screamed "Feng Shui!" and she stared for a long time. Turns out nobody knows what that means. Which is exceedingly lame. But I quickly educated them, and our neighbors. Because I opened my window and talked to Elly and Adelay next door. We discussed Feng Shui loudly as people walked past, giving us weird looks. Whatevs. They wish they had a newly vamped, feng shui-ridden apartment. We (and by 'we' I mean 'I') put the couch at an angle because angles are pleasing to the eye. Also, it added variety and took away the tension of the straight lines and right angles. Yay. It's pretty chill. It was a relaxed enough atmosphere for Elly to want to stay in the room for four hours straight. We just listened to my music and made cookies. They were delish. Also, I avoided homework. So that is a plus. In at least a few ways. But it is also a major plethora of

WE also watched The Princess Diaries. Which I realized is lame because 1) It is cliche and melodramatic and 2) There is not the attractiveness of one Chris Pine to keep me distracted.

I heart Chris Pine.

ALSO, that movie makes me want to watch Runaway Bride. About a million people in The Princess Diaries are in Runaway Bride. Like, what the crap? And why is it called The Princess Diaries anyway? She doesn't even use the diary till the last five seconds.

ANYWAYS. It is now late and I am tired. Those last days of being sick are no fun. Cuz you know you should be taking it easy/healthy still. You know, avoiding dairy products, drinking lots of liquids, sleeping. But you just don't want to anymore. And my nose is all tired and rough and raw and it's awful. Still, it's been a fun weekend.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009


I am sick and it is cold.

ALSO, I didn't do well on my Human Development test but only a very small part of me cares.

IN happier news, I love my Honors Writing class. I have gotten tens on all my short papers, subjects varying from parental stories to cheesy cliches. So, go me. Also, my personal narrative made her laugh and that made me happy.

THERE are way too many T.V. shows on and it's a temptation I'm finding hard to resist. Bones, Community, Flash Forward, Glee--why, why are they so addicting?

DID I mention it was cold?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Waiter, Bring Me Some Water.

RANDOM things first:
Mom, you are now 51 years old. wOw.
Laura, I read Thirteen Reasons Why and I LOVED it.
I actually managed to watch When A Stranger Calls (it wasn't that bad).
Amanda bought my ticket for a friend for $45, which was sweet till I found out there were people waving 100s just in hopes of getting one.
(So, heres the deal: I'll go down to the stadium to go to the game, but if someone offers me 100+ to take my place, I won't be saying no.)
There is an miniature african antelope-esque creature called a Dik-Dik.
There is also a variation called Kiles Dik-dik.
Which is hilarious.
Clean laundry is lovely.

BUT, now, the story: Sarah came down for the weekend and we went over to Michelle's because she was home alone. That's where we watched When A Stranger Calls--Note to self: scary movies are better when watching with Michelle. Anyways, it was suddenly 7 and we decided to go to Olive Garden because, hello, that's delish. There's a 20 minute wait because it was some high school's homecoming. But, whatevs. We got in--after a kind man let us know John Wayne's name is not John Wayne--and we were sat and then our waiter kneeled before us and we ordered waters. All around. We eventually get those, some salad, breadsticks, and way too many plates to handle. But I was passing the salad to sarah and, with my terrible depth perception, I totally knocked her glass over and it got everywhere. We mopped it up with our napkins and were left with soggy-everything. But it was fine. We asked one of the waiters to get us some new napkins. Then our food came. ...No napkins. Plus, sarah and I had no water. It took fifteen minutes to get more. We were ignored. Our breadsticks disappeared, our salad diminished. Nobody seemed to care. We asked our waiter--the one we were supposed to tip--to bring us napkins. He never did. Our insignificance was a slap to the face. Still, we were laughing. Then we were full and we got our checks and we gave them our cards and we were moaning about what to tip our sad service when we realized we had been charged for water. Um, no thank you. So we told one of the waiters and they took our cards back to fix it. THen we asked for to-go breadsticks because, hello, we were growing agitated. The guy looked at our cleared plates and got all worried and, slowly working it out, he said, "Ya...I'll get you some go." As if we had just asked him to kill his own mother. He brings back a pile of breadsticks and throws a to-go bag in our laps. Thank you. So much. Then our checks finally came back and poor Michelle had been charged for the entirety of the appetizer. But we were annoyed and didn't want to wait around for another waiter willing to sift through their various mistakes. So, Michelle, I owe you $2.something.

We didn't tip.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

What A World

SO, I know I'm a little obsessed with that worldly world out there. I like reading magazines and stalking celebrities--if only to brutally mock them. I know I know a lot more about celebrities and movies and the whole entertainment industry than a lot of my friends do. For instance, I know that Vanessa Hudgens was listed in the "Best Dressed" issue of People this year. Please, kill me now. I also know that Ben Barnes is wasting his beautiful face on a twisted-Casanova-esque project: the remake of Dorian Gray. Another, please-kill-me-now moment. Kate Gosselin got a new haircut. The More to Love season finale happened to be hilarious. Adam Shakman is joining the panel of judges on SYTYCD permanently--a bright spot. Ellen will be the fourth judge on Idol--sweet. And Kanye West has proven once again that he is indeed annoying.

BUT all this comes about because of a very sad, very heartbreaking bit of news: My roommate, Laci, does not know who Audrey Hepburn is. We showed her pictures, listed movies, and she just stared blankly before getting bored and beginning to talk about "pianos." I was flabbergasted (a great word, FYI). It truly hurt to hear someone say they do not know let alone recognize, appreciate, or adore an ICON of history. Audrey Hepburn happens to be classy, beautiful, graceful, and nearing perfection. She could very well be one of my heroes. Who can not love her awful accent in My Fair Lady? Who gave us Breakfast at Tiffany's? She is the only female actress I literally love--aside from Reese Witherspoon who, I'll have you know, is still going strong with Jake Gyllenhaal. The girls around now are just LAME. But, Audrey, man, I wish I could go to lunch with her.

TO prove her awesomeness and further my idolization of her, here is one of the best quotes to ever fall from the lips of a celebrity.

"I believe in pink. I believe in manicures.
I believe in overdressing.
I believe in primping at leisure and wearing lipstick.
I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner.
I believe in kissing; kissing a lot.
I believe in being strong when everything else seems to be going wrong.
I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls.
I believe that tomorrow is another day,
and I believe in miracles."

SHE happens to be awesome. And this is my tribute to her, because if any of you don't know her, you seriously need to get out more. Rent The Roman Holiday--it's a classic.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Devotional

PRESIDENT Monson spoke at our devotional today. I knew it was going to be crazy--people went at 6:30 AM to get a good seat. It started at 11:00. I went with some friends at 10:00 and their were loads of people pouring into the Marriot center. We were forced into the benches in the ghettos of the stadium. It was so uncomfortable. My legs have never hurt so terribly. I felt ready to just stand up in the middle of it, just to stretch. I wanted to straighten my legs desperately, but I couldn't. So I just sat, moving them in awkward ways, hoping to distract them from the discomfort.

BUT it was a great meeting. I love the prophet. He's always been one of my favorite speakers, but it's been a while since I've heard him. He talked about the prophets he has lived through and served with. He would tell their favorite hymn, what they loved to eat, a message they were famous for, and what they would say if they were there now. And he shared some great, personal stories involving them. They became human. He became human. He was no longer just the prophet; he felt like a friend. We were laughing with him, even remembering with him. Of course, the best moment was when he was talking about an experience with Spencer W. Kimball. When a father came, wanting to change his son's mission calling, Kimball kindly tried to make him understand that the apostles had God's authority to call his son, not him. But the man didn't get it, leaving feeling like he had managed to change the calling to Bristol, England. Kimball then turned to Monson and said "Aren't some parents unusual?" Monson told us that wasn't the word he would use. Then, "But he wasn't in the navy like I was." It was hilarious. Especially when he admitted that was not in his prepared talk. The prophet unscripted!

HE always kept us laughing. And he did it in a way that kept us thinking. I learned so much from that hour with him. I came away so grateful to be a part of this church where we are blessed with prophets--humans, called by God to lead us and teach us. Even those I never knew; the ones I can't remember--I can still learn from them and there lives. President Monson even joked about how the times have changed, but those prophets can still influence us.

IT was a great day, even with the uncomfortable seats. Even though I was so far away from the stand and from him, I felt so close. God lets us feel His love through others, and I'm grateful for a prophet who shares such love.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Oh, Dear

EMBARRASSING story of the year--no, my entire life? I made a butt call. At a bad time.

SEE, my roommates and I went to Walmart because that's what college kids do. And we happened to be supremely hyper. We had cabin fever because we hadn't left the apartment the whole day. So, in the car, we went psycho. On Leslie's ipod, she has the Evanescence song, "Wake Me Up Inside." And that is a fun song to sing. Laci, Sydney and I freaked out. We were screaming this song, taking the different male and female parts. Literally, screaming. And we didn't know the words, so it was like loud, horrific groans of death and gibberish. Plus, we were laughing so hard through the whole thing. It was a horrible rendition. Really, truly awful. Ear splitting. It gave Leslie a headache.

WELL, we get to Walmart, we go to Walmart, and we come out of Walmart and I notice I have a missed call. From Kim. So I call her. And she says I had called Chelsea. And that they had heard our entire display of craziness. It turns out, my butt decided it would be funny to call Chelsea while I was rocking out. ANd I didn't know. So they--Kim, Kelsey, and Chelsea--were laughing at me for three whole minutes and I didn't even know it.

HOW embarrassing. Really, I'm hard to truly embarrass, but I was practically mortified. But in a hilarious way. At least it wasn't my bishop or my grandpa or someone who would have died of a heart attack had they heard such awful groanings (such as Ashley). That could have been really bad.

STILL, I must apologize to Kim, Kelsey, and Chelsea. Sorry if your ears are bleeding now.

Friday, September 11, 2009


ON the happiest of days, Chelsea, Kim and Michelle surprised me!! Then they took me away from my diaper-smelling home and Kim drove us to 1984 eerie-land. The Colony: open from Dawn to Dusk. It was entirely creepy. All the houses were the exact same, all the cars lined the street. Nothing stirred. It was silent and stuck in an eternal twilight zone. The was one guy, standing outside on his porch, looking lost and frightened. We walked past and, in the most pathetic voice he asked, "Have you seen my roommates?" Um, no. No, we haven't. Then, as we passed a guy who was working on his car, he stood up and said, "Hello, sisters." Freak out! We were laughing, it was so uncomfortable. We had to take pictures like we'd been taken over by the body snatched. Which was hard, because keeping a straight face in that crowd is practically impossible.

EVENTUALLY, we found our way out of the twilight zone. Since we were still on BYU campus and they were so jealous that I got to live there 24/7, the hid their jealousy behind not-so-mild disdain and mocked the perfection that is the BYU student population. They unrolled all their windows and decided to make the BYU co-eds squirm. So they turned on ABBA and shouted inappropriate things out the window:

MICHELLE really got into it.

THEN we got to their apartment and it was adorable and about twice as big as mine. My room would fit in their bathroom. I was terrorizing Kim and Chelsea about their love lives, getting very excited by the idea of throwing, not one, but two bachelorette parties. (They are going to be off the hizza', FYI). We found a letter from Chelsea's missionary and it really melted my heart. It was wholly poetic and entirely beautiful. Oh* love.

SOME missionaries came over and it made me miss Melissa. (January 6th, people!) When they were gone, Chelsea began pestering the "investigator" in the most innocent and slightly naive of ways. Since this girl was Navajo, Chelsea just had to ask if her father was chief. And if they lived in tepees. It was hilarious. Michelle and I were dying of laughter and Chelsea just went blissfully on.

ON the way home, we screamed "Battlefield" at the top of our longs and it pretty much rocked. Jordin Sparks has nothing on us.

BUT it was a perfect day, and hilarious. They made me smile and that was a relief.

P.S. For those of you who care, my book did come. I read it in 2 1/2 hours and it was wonderful, though not as fabulous as the first one--but still amazing!--and now I have to wait like a freakin' year for the next one. And I thought ten days was hard.

I really hate series.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Wherefore Art Thou?

DID I ever tell you how Suzanne Collins' book, The Hunger Games, changed my life? Well, it did. I bought it on a whim and wound up reading it in three hours, physically unable to put it down. And the ending! OM-freakin-G, what is with people and cliff hangers??! So I immediately got online and ordered the sequel five days before it was to be released. Letting my blonde genes take over for a single second too long, I ordered it through Barnes and Noble. Now, for the last TEN days, I have been cursing myself. "Why? Why, oh, why?" It came out September 1, leading me to believe I would be able to read it over the Labor Day weekend. Alas, friday came and went--no book. Saturday came, and went--no. book. I went to bed in tears. Because such news meant I wouldn't get it, not till Monday--no, because that is a holiday--but not until TUESDAY. I could live with that. Really, I could. But it is now WEDNESDAY and I still do not have it. So, curses again: "Why? Why, oh why?"

THE Hunger Games sits on my shelf, alone without its companion. It's sleek, black cover with the gold arrow pointed at my heart constantly reminds me that I, too, am alone. Without the sequel, Katniss is still retarded and in denial about the perfection that is--well, I won't ruin it for you. But I am always irritated: whenever I step in my room and see it, the space meant for the sequel still there, empty; whenever I step out into the lobby and there are no boxes with my name on it; whenever someone even mentions reading or books or says anything that could possibly remind me of my torturous state--it's driving me insane!!!!


OKAY. With that out of the way, I can now tell the story I meant to. Which actually has something to do with my angst.

SO, it was tuesday and I didn't have class till noon. I settled in to watch the devotional on my computer. But then there's a knock at my door--which is surprising, seeing that everyone and their three-year-old (because there are a lot of those at BYU) was at the Marriot Center. But, of all things beautiful, it was a UPS guy! and he hands me a box and leaves. I thought it was my book. I brought it in, eager to rip it open and plunder its treasures. But it was the wrong room. It was not my name. It was my neighbors. So, in all my disappointed anger, I take it out in the lobby, put it on the delivery shelf, and walk back into my room.


BECAUSE Shelby forgot her keys. And all my roommates have this OCD need to lock all the doors all the time. So I was stuck in this lobby, barefooted with only a box that did NOT hold my precious book for company. All my roommates were at devotional. The entire campus was closed for devotional and I had to get in before devotional ended because I had a class right after. Instead of crying, I started laughing. Laughing at the ironic injustice of the world. Eventually, I marched to the central building, pounded on the door--because I heard voices, and I was determined/desperate--and someone answered. They gave me a key, I walked back, got my keys, took their key back, and went home.

STILL no package, I'll have you know.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Bad, Banana Bread! Bad!

I have the best banana bread recipe. Ever. It's straight from heaven with love. And I had two perfectly rotten bananas just waiting to be sacrificed to the Great Banana Bread. So it was Sunday night and I decided to make some. All my roommates happened to be sitting in the kitchen, all on the couch, just watching me. Which wasn't as intimidating as it sounds because, hello, they are my roommates:

Sarah, the sweetest RA ever
who, I'm pretty sure,
is incapable of saying a mean thing.

Sydney--like Australia--is very much the opposite.
She thrives on saying mean things,
and so we are friends.

Leslie is the most Utahn Utahn
I have ever known. She happens to be
the longest running joke

Laci is the one constantly playing
the "piano."

SO it was fine. But the BYU oven sucks. And there is my downfall. The banana bread wouldn't bake. (I have been on this wicked sweet alliteration run all weekend. I just happen to be amazing with making my magical words melt. Ya.) It was in there for forty-five minutes when it only called for thirty. The top was turning brown, but I stabbed it again and again and the middle was still a banana-ey mess of death.

I had this tiny little dagger knife for piercing the breads innards and I was holding it in my mouth as I texted. Because that's how I roll. But it was frightening Sarah, who came over to remove it from my mouth, sure I would suddenly fall and die and she would have to write a report. Sydney just mocked me, saying I looked retarded. I said I looked like a rhino. Which Leslie tried to disprove by saying it was coming out my mouth, not my forehead. Details.

FINALLY, I pulled out the bread, deciding moist bread is a good thing. But then the top caved in, revealing a very, very moist center. So we put it in the way-too-complex toaster over. Five minutes later, I pull it out, smoking, because the top was burnt like death. Stupid toaster. And the center still wasn't done. So, whatever. The center just sucks. We take it out of the pan and proceed to eat it. The sides were delish. Like, fantastically. Our neighbors came over, it was so good. But then there was just this blob of goop, sitting on the cutting board like a work of modern art. Nobody wanted it, everyone laughed at it. Because it was pretty funny.

THERE must have been a strange amount of sugar in the bread, because Sydney went cRaZy. She tried to sing "Because of You," by Kelly Clarkson, but, alas, she cannot sing. Then she relived our "La la la la la la" moment, horrifying poor Leslie.

OUR neighbor came over for like a split second, quickly leaving once she witnessed our many abnormalities. But I think it's pretty epic. They're just jealous. Like Sydney is jealous of me.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Pigeon Calls & Seduction Songs

NOT many people know this, but I am a pro at pigeon noises. I sound just like one. You just coo in the back of your throat and it comes out like magic. Leslie said it made her want to go to the zoo. (Ya, I don't get that either.) I've been cooing for the last two days. My direct roommate, Sydney, really loves it. She loves how I perch on my bed, stare into her eyes and coo. It has changed her life.

ALSO, I can do a mean seduction dance to a freaking great seduction song. It goes "La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la" in a really high, slow pitch that sends chills up your spine. Actually, it's a 70's classic by Minnie Riperton called "Lovin' You" as featured in Disturbia. Check it out. It will change your life. These loud kids were playing it in the lobby at midnight and it inspired me. It's been stuck in my head ever since. Just those "la la's." They get me. I was singing it to Sydney as she made her bed for the night (Ya, I don't get that either.) and she told me to sing it to Leslie. So I wrap my leg around the door frame and sing it--so sweetly, so softly--it changed her life. Actually, she was horrified. Called me bad. All over a little leg! Sydney, on the other hand, thought it was great. For the next twenty minutes we added moves, simply perfecting the whole soul of it. Now we've got it down. And it's hot.

SO, basically, it's been a night of changing people. And I think that's a great thing. I could die, fulfilled. All because I know how to coo like a bird and swing my hips like a woman.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Old Faithful In the Kitchen

I was at Elly's for dinner--she is one of my summer roommates who happens to now be my next-door neighbor. I got there early because I was starving and bored. So she was in the process of making Enchilada's, which were, by the way, amAzing.

ANYWAYS, her sink wasn't draining. There wasn't any water floating in the sink, but it was hanging out in the drain...not draining. Turns out, her apartment had that problem before and so they called Maintenance who told them to turn on the disposal. So I'm sitting at the table, twiddling my thumbs, and Elly decides to try that. I was just about to joke around, scare her, by warning her that it would probably all explode up in her face. But her hand was already on the switch. And she flipped it. And it exploded.

FROM the opposite drain, this geyser of chewed-up beans, lettuce, oatmeal, tomatoes, and who-knows-what-else just shoots up. Straight out of the sink, exploding with a great Bang! and beautiful fountain work. It hit the cabinets and showered down across the counter, the food, the sink, the floor. And Elly.

IT was hilarious. There was this instant where we just gasped--Elly's face was priceless--and then I burst out laughing and she hurried and turned it off, keeled over, laughing just as hard as me. Through the laughs, I asked her kindly to do it again, this time so I could record it. She wouldn't. So we just laughed. The kitchen was covered in what looked like vomit and Elly hurried and changed, still laughing about the fact that her sink had just spit up all over her. It was truly disgusting. So we laughed about it the rest of the night. I suggested she invite someone she disliked highly to come and "fix her sink" by turning on the disposal. Then I'd have my camera ready and it'd be the next web hit.

BUT, mostly, it made my day and I was happy for the rest of it. Ah, the college life.

ANOTHER funny story that really doesn't concern me: My blonde little sister, who I love, was looking for a vocal coach. One was offering lessons for $20 a month. But, she was talking to this young, single guy who said he'd teach her for $15. So, the always-loveable Laura says, "Fifteen? I'll do you."


I'LL just leave it at that.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Holy Crap: People

ONCE upon a time, it was summer. And people were scarce. I would walk through Brigham square, past the JFSB and never once worry about running into people. Well, that hasn't changed. It's still impossible to run into people. But now it is because you are so tightly wedged between 30,000 bodies, that you can't move anywhere but with the crowd. Way to be, BYU. Making crowd-followers of all of us. Really, I felt like a cow today, being herded and prodded in way too many ways, at way too many angles. I was choking on people. They were everywhere.

AND all of them had babies. Babies, toddlers--they were being pushed and pulled, toted and carried by people who look like they're my age. BYU is weird.

NOT only were the sidewalks and stairs clogged, the buildings were breaking at the seams. There were so many people, just standing in hallways, thinking it was a perfectly normal time to stop and talk to Caroline, your old roommate from sophomore year: "Like, OMG! It's been forever! Tell me your whole life story while I stand here, selfishly causing a traffic jam. Time? Oh, I totally have time! Don't mind the crowds around me--you are so important right now! So let us stand together and chat about the economy and health care and the newest episode of Barney." Ya, don't mind me. I'm only pressed up against a wall so tightly, black spots are floating across my vision and I don't know which way is up and which was is down. Thank you.

BUT I eventually managed to wriggle out from that position, pushing through a mountain of backpacks and a sea of very wet people, into a classroom of, oh, just 500 students. Summer, my biggest class was one of thirty students. Now I was sitting in the auditorium I had NSO in, and it's a class. There were thirteen TA's.

THE whole day, I couldn't help but laugh at all the people. I was just in shock. The babies, the parents, the freshmen, the I-can't-believe-a-freshman-is-looking-at-me-right-now--it was a crowd. I came home just to get away. 30, 000 people; I never realized it would be so dense. I don't even want to talk about the bookstore.

IT was worse than Disneyland.

Sunday, August 30, 2009


BEST musical ever.

END of story.

PLUS, Laura and Mommy pretty much rock. And food. And shopping. ANd really badly done manicures...well, not so much. Still, it was fun. And I'm glad I got a vacation, even if it is no longer summer.

HOPEFULLY I have some more awesome-er stories to tell at a later date. Right now, the simple fact is my eye hurts and I just spent four hours in a car, singing at the top of my lungs in the most awful way possible. In a surprise twist, mom managed to not kill me. So that's cool.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Home Again

EXCEPT not really. I miss Bowen Hall. But it's alright, it's ok. Because Harris is pretty sweet, I guess. There's a big parking lot. That's gotta count for something. And the windows are painted--Every time I pass by I want to sing "H-H-H-Harris." Because that's what it says.


WHEN my mom abandoned me around 7ish, I was home alone. Very bored. Very much UN-excited to be back. But then Chelsea called and she's all "we're coming over to see you!" And I was so very excited. I stopped unpacking, waiting eagerly for their arrival. But then Chelsea called telling me her car broke down. Her speedometer wasn't working and they were scared. So they had Kim drive and they came up and they are hilarious. Really, their apartment must be hilarious, because nothing is boring when they're around.

WE decided to walk to Helaman Halls and visit some people over there. But we passed some sprinklers on the way, so Kim and Chelsea went skipping through them. They also almost got hit by a car, darting across the street. Then it was dancing through parking lots, admiring Hinckley's grass, Michelle trying to hum "I'll Be" in the gazebo. I screamed "Krista" like she was my Adrian. And then Kim realized she lost her phone. We retraced our exact steps and I kept calling her phone. We were waiting for Harry Potter to start playing. But then the phone calls me. Creepy. Turns out some guy had heard Harry Potter, picked it up, and called me back. He said he'd meet us at the tower (that sounds dirty.). We were waiting there--Chelsea was checking out every guy that ever walked past--and some guy starts coming towards the bell tower. Chelsea got all excited because he looked cute and it was going to be a true love story, talking about it with their kids, saying how they met when she lost her phone. How precious. But then some guy bikes up to it and hands it over. He wasn't the cute one. But he gives it to us as we are laughing hysterically. The bad news: He found it in the sprinklers.

IT was sopping wet. And the buttons wouldn't work. We tried to take the battery out to dry. It was a stubborn one. I got it out once I started talking about cheese or something random. Michelle got all excited cuz it was like The Sword in the Stone. But we dried it and then put it back and the screen turned red. Like, Satan read. And the front screen said "Download" in formidable font. Satan had possessed Kim's phone. On BYU property. It was overwhelming. So we walked back to my apartment, and I was asking Kim why she hadn't kissed her boyfriend yet (ya, kim, why???). That's when some girls from my last apartment--oh, Bowen--saw me and stopped in a creepy fashion to say hi. One of them just went on over and decided Kim's phone was water damaged. Yes, that seemed to be the problem.

AT one point or the other, Chelsea got all excited and shouted something right as this group of girls walked by. I don't know what she said, but I swear it sounded like "Oh, look! A slut!" It was hilarious. Especially since what she said didn't sound at all like that. At all. But that's what I heard her scream as a bunch of girls passed us.

BUT then I had to say farewell to my collegiate friends and I walked back to my apartment all alone, past the random, frightening rape corner. All alone. But I wasn't afraid. I had my rape whistle.