Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Defining "Cool"

     Sometimes I feel like performing social experiments.  You know, doing crazy things to see how people react.  Rachel had to do one for her class once.  She decided to wear two different shoes.  Nobody really noticed so I guess that means it should have increased my faith in mankind or something.  We certainly are a tolerant group, I mean letting people walk around with two different shoes on without so much as batting an eye?  Come on!
     Well, most of my social experiments are done inadvertently.  I'll be minding my own business when I notice the stares, the giggles, or the foreign objects hitting the back of my head and I'll tell myself it's okay.  Joke's on them. 
     For instance, I don't have a car and when you have to walk around Rexburg, it goes from Tinkerbell size to Rosie O' Donnell size real fast.  My solution?  A state of the art Razor scooter with orange wheels and foldable capabilities.  When I pulled it out last, my roommate was like, "No way!  You are part of the scooter gang?  Cool!"  I just nodded and flipped open my scooter like I knew what she was talking about.  Then I was on my way.
     I can get up to pretty high speeds until I see a crack in the sidewalk.  Then I have to jump off real fast and run with the scooter a little ways.  It often spins around and smacks me in the shin.  You would think in Rexburg where kids walk around in coats long enough to cover their knees and Indian war paint a girl on a scooter would be old hat.  Oh wait, that's just me.        
     Anyways, riding a scooter around is no picnic.  People jump out of your way as if you are rolling out of control or they just give you this, "Wow, you must think you are pretty cool" look.  I admit it has forced me to considerably cut down my scooter riding time which has led to other complications such as increased roundness of my abdomen and whole body in general.
     I tried to take care of this roundness at the gym which led me to yet another inadvertent social experiment.  I was scheduled to meet Doree there at 7:00 sharp so by about 7:05 I was running out the door.  I changed into my gym clothes and realized I had forgotten my tennis shoes.  Usually this isn't a problem since the shoes I wear to the gym suffice, but that day I had worn my platform heeled gray snow boots complete with little chi-chi balls that dance as I walk.  Fully aware of my strict obedience to every dare presented to me, Doree suggested I wear the boots to work out.  So, I slipped them on below my gym shorts and admired how well they matched my gray shirt before stepping into the crowded gym.   
     Doree wasn't even embarrassed of me.  She's a keeper.  I saw a girl I knew there and waved.  She saw me alright and looked away.  Lame.  My cousin always tells me about cute guys she talks to at the gym, but they've never talked to me.  I thought all guys really wanted was a girl with some confidence.  What says confidence better than gray boots with gym shorts?  

Friday, October 17, 2008

Top 5 Worst Things that Ever Happen

So, I was thinking. Now that I have written about the Top 10 Greatest Things that Ever Happen, it would be foolish not to pair it with the Top 5 Worst Things that Ever Happen. That way, we can partake of the fruit. Enjoy the knowledge of good and evil. In case you were wondering, I mostly like to live in as much ignorance as possible, so I am only going to allow myself to think of 5 bad things. Once again these are in order of how they came into my mind.

1. Sneezing Right After Applying Mascara
With the concentration of a heart surgeon, mouth wide open, eyes popped, you slide the mascara wand across your delicate lashes making sure each wet ball spreads evenly to the tips. Sniffle sniffle achoo. Voila, you're an emo. Then you have to wipe it off with wet tissue getting white residue on your cheekbones and rubbing foundation off in patches in the process. Fuh-rust-trate-ing.

2. Clothes Falling Off of Hangers
You're in TJ Maxx arms full of clothes to try on when you spot the cutest jacket ever. As you go to grab it, it leaps onto the floor, hanger and all. You bend your knees, lowering yourself like a pregnant lady, and pick up the jacket from the sleeve when the hanger tumbles to the tile below. By then, I'd just drop the jacket, step on it, then walk away. Not really. Ha, that reminds me. When we were kids, one of my brothers once, I won't name names, said in a way only Eric could say, "Just throw it on the ground, that way the janitors will be happy they can do their job." Man, he's got a lot of faith in the intrinsic motivation of the business world.

3. Barfing in a Taco Bell Parking Lot
The funny thing is, I hadn't even eaten there yet. Imagine that. I was in the "ghetto" of Colorado (yup, it even had creepy gas stations) when it happened. My friends were inside Taco Bell and I was sitting on the sidewalk after puking into a vacant parking spot (don't worry, it wasn't the handicapped parking). I turned to see a ripped black man who was ripped in a tank top that showed off his rippedness with a Doo Rag on his head approaching me. He came up and said, "Hey, are you alright? Do you need me to buy you a drink or something?" Nice guy. I think he might have thought I was drunk by the way he was talking to me. I wasn't.

4. Asking a Question to Someone Who Doesn't Hear You
What are you supposed to do. Ask it again? Then everyone who DID hear you will make fun of you or laugh at your awkwardness. Don't ask it again? Then everyone who DID here you will be waiting for you to ask it. Also, you might never know the answer (not that we care about the answers to many questions we ask anyways.)

5. Writer's Block

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Invitation to Inspiration

Sometimes when I'm in a computer lab, I like to type random letters real fast just so people think I am a typing wizard.  I was doing that just a second ago.  It makes me feel like those old fashioned secretaries.  Hmm... has anyone really ever examined their notes?  I'd bet they all just say aslkdjfowncekneewjojfaw.  Yup.  People around here are lookin' at me wishing they could type that fast.
My best friend, Doree and I were just trying to write some lyrics for our big break at Music Outlet.  We (I) came up with some rich stuff.  Lucky for us, you don't need any musical talent to perform there, just an original song.  Now I'm not saying talented people haven't performed there before but...  
Well, it appears that I care an awful lot about what other people think.  Not in that insecure sort of way.  More like in that cocky sort of way.  Yeah, that's it.  I want people to know I am a typing wizard and know I am a music outlet maestro.  That way they can think, man if that girl can do it, anyone can!  I like to think of myself as an inspiration, really.  If you have any stories about me being inspirational in achieving your dreams, feel free to write to me.   

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Ten? I Can Think of Ten Million.

Top Ten Greatest Things That Ever Happen

(note: list in order of appearance in my stream of consciousness)

10. Finding money on the ground- is there anything sweeter than glancing up from double-knotting your shoes only to be greeted by dear Brother George Washington?  I mean, seriously, it rivals finding the cure for cancer.  I once found 20 bucks on the ground only to have it snatched away by a boy who'd said he lost it.  That incident would go on my list of Top Ten Worst Things That Ever Happen.  He gave me 2 bucks for finding it, though.  The cheap dirtbag.

9. Sneezing - Few bodily functions offer as much satisfaction as sneezing.  Especially when people say "God Bless You" afterwards.  I mean, not only do they acknowledge your sudden discharge of saliva, they also gently plea for the welfare of your soul.  Much like the Pledge of Allegiance, the ever considerate "God Bless You" has taken a backseat to the less taboo "Bless You," which I find unfortunate.  

8. Getting Braces Off - Oh wait...that never happens.

7.  Waking Up Before Your Alarm Goes Off - There's something strangely satisfying about beating your alarm clock even if it's at 3:00 A.M.  It's like stickin it to the man, you know.  Breaking the shackles of monotonous obligation that give an alarm clock its power.  

6. Talking in Your Sleep - It doesn't matter what you say. When you're asleep, it's all funny.  

5.  Sticking Your Head Out a Car Window - heh heh whoo, that's a rush.  In the event of front seat passenger drool, slow-reflexed bugs, or side swiping vehicles however, this Top Ten Greatest Things That Ever Happen item will become null and void. 

4. Falling Backwards in a Chair - Funnier when it happens to somebody else.  Also funny when other people fall in general.  Like how Rachel slipped on the ice in Rexburg when my sudden "Ooh!" at finding 12 cents on the ground startled her.

3. Getting a Message on Facebook - Wall Posts, notifications, pokes, comments, blah blah blah.  The real juicy stuff always comes through messages on facebook.  Seeing a simple (1) next to "Inbox" honestly makes my heart skip a beat.  

2. Finding Freak M&Ms - Quasimodo M&Ms taste better than the rest.  I also love finding peanut M&Ms that are missing a peanut.  Such discoveries cause me to reflect on the universal weakness of mankind.  At one point or another we've all sent the peanut M&M off without its peanut.  Just like all the times I've told fat jokes in front of fat friends :(  

1.  Candid Camera For Reals - Moments in which you look around and think, "hmm...am I on candid camera or did that really just happen."  For example, I was walking by myself some feet away from an overweight middle aged woman when she stopped in front of a house, looked around, grabbed a little girl's bike from the yard and rode off only to return the bike moments later and continue on her way.  "Wow," I said to myself.  "That lady really just took an eight- year-old's bike for a joy ride."  Yes...it's a true story.

In conclusion, life is pretty dang good.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Happy America!

Well, the 4th of July is soon approaching so I may as well give a salute to America.  It's a great time to reflect on the rich history of this nation.  Good thing I don't know much of it, or that would take more time than my attention span allows.  So instead I will salute Independence Day as I know it.

Fireworks.  Some years I feel they are completely overrated, other years I can't get enough of them.  Kinda like Donny Osmond.  This year I'm heading to Wyoming to set them off legally.  It will be quite the show.  Hopefully Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat quality.

Hot Dogs.  If you don't know already, doctors say hot dogs may cause pancreatic cancer.  Shyeah right, soon they'll be saying cigarettes cause cancer too.  Ever tried Spam?  I swear it's just canned hot dog with a slight cat food aroma.  It's good though, you should try it.

Soda Pop.  I'm usually a conservative drinker, you know one pop at dinnertime, but when the 4th rolls around, all discretion flies out the window.   Unfortunately, a two liter doesn't fit in the lawn chair cupholder which is why I also salute...

Fanny Packs.  The 4th brings neighbors together and for some reason it seems like neighbors are always either wearing short shorts or fanny packs.  Sometimes both.  Also scrunchies.

Here's to you America!  Happy 4th everybody (aka, the two people who read my blog)!  

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Discrimination is the Best Medicine

Ahh...Political Correctness (if correctness is even a word).  You know, I really try to be politically correct which is hard to do in this day and age.  Instead of stereotyping minorites, I find that a nice dose of reverse discrimination keeps me safe and on the politically correct track.
You know what I mean.  Whenever I'm at the airport, I signal TSA about potential terrorists.  I'm relieved when I see them checking twenty-two year old white women pushing strollers around.  Strollers, ha, more like anthrax sponges.  Whenever I'm at the clothing store, I stand next to the dressing room making sure the attendant gives the customers the right number.  That Gladys is always trying to sneak leather pants out under her moo-moo.  Man, that policy is sooo hetero. Whenever I am in a crowded area like church I keep careful hold of my belongings (hello tithing, cha-ching!), and check my pockets after walking past the primary children.  You can never be too careful.   


In my opinion, everyone has mentally ill tendencies.  It's one's ability to control these impulses that preserves his or her sanity.  For example, are you ever sitting at your desk in the office quietly typing away when the sudden urge to climb onto your desk, do an irish jig, and sing Moulin Rouge almost overwhelms you?  Or have you ever been in a dark theatre watching a play considering the consequence of giving the gray haired man directly in front of you a wet willy or at least flicking the center of his balding head?  Of course no sane person would ever follow through on such impulses but we all have them. 
Am I right?
Well, I'm just gonna come out and say it right now.  I hate stepping on the cracks.  I walk around campus with my head down dodging all the cracks in the cement.  Right, it's a dumb habit, but where do you think the saying, "It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt," came from?
   So far I've diagnosed myself as having OCD tendencies mixed with slight ADD and a sprinkle of Bipolar Disorder.   Guess we should add hypochondria to the list, heh heh.  Consider this my plea for help.  

Don't Forget a Title...Don't Forget a Title....

     Hey!  I'm back.  So, it took me about an hour to get into my blog today.  It seems I forgot my password again.  You know, many life experiences have proved just how poorly I keep track of information.  My subconscious simply refuses to remember anything that doesn't interest me.  This wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't surrounded by people who remember everything like when their friends are going on vacation, or what teachers they signed up for, or which shoe goes on which foot.  I'm not kidding!  I can hardly remember to zip up my pants and my friends are practically holding a gun to my head asking me to recall my pin/account number?
    Well, I thought maybe I should be worried about my absentmindedness when I heard something somewhere about absent minded people being geniuses.  According to this whatever it was, geniuses are forgetful because they don't focus on humdrum details that others do.  Their genius minds are so busy being wildly creative, they just don't process minor information.  Well, Eureka!  I knew there was some way I could blame my forgetfulness on something other than genuine, inconsiderate disinterest.

Thursday, May 15, 2008


     I've been trying to learn the guitar for a while now.  Turns out, it's kinda hard and hurts my fingers.  Remember that time I asked for a unicycle for Christmas?  Yeah, it's kinda like that.  Sure, it "would be cool" to play the guitar or ride a unicycle, but who has that kind of motivation?   But seriously, if anyone wants to teach me, I want to learn the guitar.  That would be cool.
     Sometimes when I have big ideas like learning the guitar or starting a blog, I picture myself getting invited to Oprah because I am so incredibly famous.  I guess that's all the glory I need, because I am all talk no follow-through.  No, really you should try it.  It's like getting the reward without any effort, and Oprah is that cute up close.

     Speaking of cute, I was applying for a scholarship the other day when I thought, wow, I can make myself sound pretty pansy-ish.  Writing to me is like an excuse to be a pansy.  That's why I like it so much.  I can really express myself.  See, "express myself" = 100 on pansy radar.  You know what I mean.

      I guess somebody is considered mature when they can appreciate the arts.  I consider myself appreciative about the arts, but still giggle inwardly when a poet uses the word "gay" for happy or when an artist paints a bum crack.  Ha, I said gay.  What do you think the artist is thinking while he's painting a bum crack anyways?  Does he use a model?  

    Nah, I really love art, but Jay knows what I'm talkin about.  


Sunday, May 11, 2008

Forever Young

I always thought blogging was for Emo kids but here I am.  This summer has been pretty exciting as always.  I work putting medical kits together in a tiny room for eight hours a day.  One time I counted to 1,000 just to see how long it would take.  Turns out it took 23 minutes.  Shoot, maybe it was 27.  Well, looks like I'll have something to do tomorrow.  
I've been thinking about attending the singles ward, but last time I went the only cute guy turned out to be a missionary. Also, everyone thought I was 16.  I'm often mistaken for a high schooler because of my fresh, attractive features and my glistening braces.  I'm actually 20 years old.  When I was 18 I got carded at The Da Vinci Code.  That's right...a PG-13 movie.  It does have its perks though.  A waiter once brought me a free kids' sundae at a barbeque restaraunt designated for children 12 and under.  Also, I'm surrounded by low expectations, which makes impressing people pretty dang easy.
On June 11 I am finally getting jaw surgery to fix my bite.  That means the braces come off around November.  Watch out world.  I am pretty excited about it.  It means I will be on a liquid diet for about 6 weeks eating my meals through a syringe, but hey my teeth will finally fit together.  My roommate suggested I eat an entire jar of peanut butter to gain weight before the operation.  In my opinion, this is the best advice I've ever received.