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