Sunday, July 26, 2009

Crayola doesn't make a color

There's something on my mind.
A hat.
Give it a second. You'll get it.

Also, I've been thinking.

1. Demolition Derbies

Last night we made the annual Morley Family Pilgrimage to Kamas for the event we anticipate all summer every summer. Within the first 5 minutes a car flipped on its side. We cheered. There was a fire. We cheered louder. The closer the drivers were to dying, the more excited we became. When Britt sent a text from the Heber Derby about a girl being cut out of her truck and taken away in an ambulance, I was jealous.

2. Spasms

When I'm stressed/tired my eyes twitch. Sometimes not together. In fact, usually one at a time. And while I recognize it as a sign that it's time to take a nap, others interpret the "winks" differently. "Did you just wink?" I've been asked far too many times lately. Or not asked...and instead met with a puzzled glance from the wink recipient. The horror of this scenario lies in my ignorance. I can't tell when it's happening, therefore I'm unaware when I've unintentionally flirted with friends, waiters, professors, ex-boyfriends, family members, strangers, women, dogs, bosses, etc.

3. My face

Yes, my picture is in the Ensign. No, it's not my best. Yes, I realize it's a magazine with circulation world wide. No, I didn't know my hair looked like that in the back. Yes, I've been hoping no one would recognize me. No, my hope hasn't helped the fact that EVERYONE has recognized me. Yes, I'm researching anti-double chin products on the internet. No, I'm not able to laugh about it quite yet. Yes, my bishop announced the page number over the pulpit.

4. Him

Well done Jenkins.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

wired like tv

So one time I had dinner with this guy...


I've misled you perhaps. I had dinner with this guy and a table of filmmakers and Brad and Allie. BUT STILL. I seem to remember a slight breeze tossing my hair while he smiled, our eyes locking as we discussed the glazed porkchops. Sure we shared the table with 5 others, but as far as emotional connections and immediate attraction, it was just he and I. Maybe.
Years later...
Allie and I attended a premiere at a little festival we locals like to call Sundance. What's that? Biggest event of the year? Couldn't get tickets? Missed your chance to see the back of Paris Hilton's head walk into a club? That's really sad for you. I, however, am blessed with a rather rad roommate (not any more, but I'm a sucker for alliteration), who happened to have an extra ticket to (500) Days of Summer, staring, yes, believe it, Joseph Gordon-Levitt (pictured above). And don't worry, it being a premiere and all, he was there. Serendipitous, I thought. And my how far we had both come. He, coming from a sitcom career to a full fledged movie star, and my hair having grown at least three inches. Knowing that fate had brought us together once more, I understood my reponsibility. I was to reestablish that connection. With nothing but the Devil's advocation from my "friend" Allie, I prepared to speak once more to the man who was undoubtedly my one true love, and with whom I was to live a charming and passionate life somewhere in a French countryside, where the paparazzi would never find us. "He's coming," whipsered Allie. As I turned I stood face to face with the dream. I reached out, brushed his shoulder, and with an expectant smile said "Hey, we had dinner together." Confused smile. Blushing. "Good movie. You did a good job. I liked it." Still confused. "Thanks". Turn. Walk away.

Restraining what?

Friday, July 17, 2009

I am now certified to drive a BYU van. Prayers appreciated.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

khaki wid it

There's a place I like to go. I run on dirt, through trees, under the sun, and other various prepositions. I went there today. The wildlife acknowledged my presence in excited scurrying through bushes and air, circling my head and leading the way. It was very Disney Princess, sans birds, squirrels and fawns, and instead lizards, hornets and stinging nettle. I thought it might be fitting to sing, because isn't that what they always do? These princesses? Glide through the forest, extend a dainty hand where a bluebird perches, and together they sing of dreams and prince charmings and how sad it is to be part fish royalty. But the only song that came to mind was Highway to Hell and that hardly seems appropriate.

Monday, July 13, 2009

facebook gem

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Hey Snow White

Fire alarm. Sounding during Relief Society. So rad. Please don't misinterpret. Church is a wonderful place to be. But come the last half hour I start to really struggle. Maybe it's a blood sugar thing. Or attention deficit disorder. Regardless, when those lights started flashing and the siren blaring, I smiled. So while the females scurried out of the building immediately, the Elders' Quorum said a closing prayer. Which makes me wonder. Almost undoubtedly a drill, sans flames, sans smoke, sans rugged firemen. BUT STILL. It was to be treated as an actual emergency. So a closing prayer? What if it came down to seconds? Is it better to have said the prayer and burn or escape prayerless? Does that lead to a path of metaphorical burning?

I've just set a new goal to blog more often. I've also set a goal to set more realistic goals, which may in fact nullify the first statement. Ladies and gentlemen, the latest side show attraction, Conundrum Girl! Truly, a Walking Paradox!

Thursday, July 9, 2009

a noun that gets paid

"You've lost so much weight", she said the after looking through my facebook photos. Really? So much weight? I mean sure, I was heavier. But was I heavier than I thought? Was I the Agustus Gloop of the mission? Should I have never taken myself seriously? It's an unnerving compliment. Like, "you look good today". Hm. How did I look yesterday? Or every other day? Is this the first time I've looked good ever? When someone tells me I've lost weight, the past fatter me takes offense while the present me glows with bigheadedness. Issues you say? Yes.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

I struggle with uploading photos

We made ice cream. Well, I watched while ice cream was made. From goat milk. Yes, my acquantances milk goats. I don't ask questions.

A dear friend is preggo (as in with child, not misspelled pasta sauce), and she abstained from the DIVINE dairy delight. "Crazy!" I cried. "So delicious!" I exclaimed."You want some!" I declared. But then, in quiet, maternal wisdom she said "Actually unpasteurized milk can kill the baby." How does she know that? Is there a region in the brain that develops along with the fetus? The Mother Knows Best gray matter? I certainly hope so, because if ever there is a bun in my oven the poor thing is in serious peril. I'll eat essentially anything in front of me, not excluding food fallen on the floor that has far exceeded the ten second rule. Considering my current personal food pyramid, with diet coke as a foundation, microwave popcorn a step above that, then produce on the same level as el azteca chicken tacos, and chocolate in the top triangle (though really not consumed all that sparingly), I imagine drastic changes would need to take place before I start eating for any one other than myself. Lets all thank our lucky stars we're years out.