It's Not Easy Being Green.

Oh gosh you guys. I wasn't going to tell this story. It's dumb. But you persuaded me. jerks. jk. but for reals.

I was super nervous for my first drama class, for four reasons.

1. I don't do drama. I'm a drama queen (ha), but I'm no actress.
2. The class is almost four hours long. At night.
3. I have a fear of public speaking /slash/ looking stupid /slash/ looking stupid while public speaking.
4. The ratings for this professor said she makes you get out of your comfort zone.

I like my comfort zone.

So of course when class started and I only knew a couple of people in the room, I was quite tense and ill at ease. I sat there with my fists clenched under my desk, and it didn't help that moments before this class started, I got some bad news that made me quite emotionally unstable. And then it didn't help that I started crying during the opening prayer.

Bad start.

So I sat there, all nervous and awkward-like, and tried desperately to convince myself that I was totally normal and everyone was going to love me, and hey, maybe I'd make a great actress and everyone in this class would be my eventual besties and such. But then, the professor handed out a personality test; you know, the kind where you find out what color you are.

BLUE: nurturers, people-persons, emotionally motivated, etc.
GOLD: organization lovers, those who love structure, go-getters, etc.
GREEN: independent thinkers, competence-driven, math/science type of mind, etc.
ORANGE: very impulsive, love being in the spotlight, very competitive, hate structure, etc.

I took the test honestly, and I almost tied for three colors: green (35 points), blue (32 points), and gold (31 points). And I thought it represented me pretty dang well too. You see....

I'm very much a people person with a nurturing emotional side, and I love structure and organization, but on top of all that, I am an independent thinker. I resist just agreeing with people for the sake of agreeing and I refuse to do things that don't make sense to me.

Our professor told us that most the class was probably blue (being nurturing elem. ed majors and all), and gestured to a part of the room for "blues" to congregate. She knowingly predicted that there'd be a few "golds" and a few "oranges" and pointed out their areas as well. But nothing about green. The class began moving excitedly, while I sat there, forgotten.

Then she exclaimed: "Oh! And every once in a while, we'll get ONE green in the class!" and left it at that. I still sat there, panicked. I was a "green."

I raised my hand and told her so. "We have a GREEN!!!!" she exclaimed with excitement, "You will be with me!"

So while the rest of the class bonded with each other and probably became instant besties, I was whisked to a chair in the front of the room, away from all my peers, to talk about my personality with my drama professor.

She talked to me about my "green" aspects, and I told her the things I identified with and didn't identify with. And then, I had to stand up in front of the whole class full of people wondering why I was the only green to explain my "green-ness" (while also strongly emphasizing that I had almost tied with blue and gold so everyone understood I was just like them too and not some total freakazoid.)

It was then that my professor took it upon herself to describe the "typical Green" while I sat there, facing the class:
-doesn't understand emotions.
-would rather spend time with computers than with human interaction.
-may say things like "I am all alone, but don't feel bad for me, because I like to be alone."
-"live long and prosper" (please note she did the Star Trek sign while saying this.)

While she said these things, the whole class of sensitive nurturers just stared at me, their emotionally-motivated, people-loving eyes penetrating my uncaring green soul.

Maybe they weren't judging me, but.. they were totally judging me.

personally, I find the Green Giant very attractive and he's green.
so take that, haters.

Then we talked about what color of people we most identify with and which color we least identify with or struggle getting along with. I sat facing the class while most of them seemed to agree that the color they least understood was GREEN. Some of them even described "green" people they had conflicts with in the past.

Pretty sure they hated me by association at that point.

We spent two hours talking about our colors. It wouldn't have been so bad to be unique. In fact, I might have loved it on a different day when I was feeling more outgoing and less like my emotions would crumble at any point in time into a mess of tears. At the end of class, our professor assured us that we wouldn't have to divide according to our colors again, and that she wouldn't even remember our colors. Then she pointed at me and said, "Except for you, because you're the only GREEN!!"

Next time I have to take a personality test, I am going to lie, cheat and steal my way to be the majority color in the room.

I've also decided to avoid wearing the color green to that class at all costs, even if it falls on St. Patrick's Day, in order to NOT remind my green-prejudiced class that I am the only green. Maybe if I never wear green they'll just forget it all happened and accept me as one of them. I am willing to endure pinching injuries.

Other things that are out for drama class: taking broccoli as a snack, any talk about environmentalism, and grass stains. This just got real.

Sing it Kermit.

(DISCLAIMER: please note that any/all emotional trauma has been resolved by this point through telling this story to many friends and laughing extremely hard. also, my class may not hate me as much as implied (but we'll see for sure next week) (ha). please also note that my newly acquired aversion to the color green, however, is painfully real.)

It's What Sisters Are For.

When we were little, whenever we would drive by the Excalibur Hotel on the strip, I used to tell my little sister that the King and Queen of Las Vegas lived there.

taken from the car last night

She used to believe me.

Bahaha.

Happy Nevada Day!

Let me make one thing clear: Nevada Day is a big deal to me.

The Silver State was made a part of the Union on October 31st, 1864, and so, growing up, Halloween always had another dimension. It was also Nevada Day! Yes, I grew up getting Halloween off school because of this lovely fact. :)

Nevada is where my heart will always reside. Growing up in Las Vegas made me who I am, and I think it is the best place to live in the world! I love the people of my home state: so down-to-earth and warm-hearted. I love the spirit of the West which inspires the people there. I firmly believe the desert, with its cactus and sagebrush, bright blue mountains and rocky dirt, is so much prettier than anywhere green.



Whenever I get the chance to drive home for a visit (I'm going home for the first time in 3 months in 22 days!), my heart begins to swell as the green trees fade from view, and the landscape slowly turns to desert. And when I come around that corner and see the Las Vegas Valley unfold into view, I feel like my heart is at peace.

Confession: I always sing the Nevada State song when I cross the border as I drive. It is also my favorite singing-in-the-shower song. It's just so darn catchy! Fellow Nevadan peeps know what I'm talking about. Here's a rendition by the Killers (also Nevada natives):

(disregard the large Harry Reid emblazoned upon the video... he already won. although the awkward hug at the end is priceless. and awkward. so awkward.)

I am truly a Nevada girl.

My ancestors founded several towns in Nevada when there was literally NOTHING. My grandmas on both sides grew up in tiny desert Nevada towns back before very many people lived there.

My grandparents on one side met and fell in love in Las Vegas during the 1940s when it was nothing but a dusty little western town with a few hotels and lots of desert. She was a journalist at the only radio station. He was a gunnery instructor stationed there during the war. They fell in love. He proposed. She said no. But don't worry, he tried again later... ;)

Las Vegas is also where my parents fell in love back when she was a school teacher and he had just moved there because Rebel Basketball was doing really well at the time... I mean to get his masters from UNLV.


Thanks for indulging me in my love for my state. And maybe those of you from Nevada celebrated Nevada day with me! I, for one, hugged a cactus, petted a bighorn sheep, and played in some sagebrush for Nevada day.

Just kidding. I just sang the state song all day for everyone I saw. THEY LOVED IT. No one even made fun of me. (this is a lie)

It's just so darn catchy!

Room-Cleaning Gems.

Cleaning out one's room--along with dental appointments and eye exams and errands that have been on the to-do list for months--is one of the special joys of being home from college for a long visit.

You leave the room clean, of course, when you go away to your cute apartment. You may pop in at home every couple of months, pulling items out of the closet to grab a favorite hat to take back, piling last semester's textbooks on the desk, throwing all the things that aren't quite treasure but aren't quite trash into a heap in the corner because you can't decide what to do with them. And then one day you drag home a suitcase and throw it open for a week-and-a-half visit, clothes spilling out haphazardly as somehow the objects occupying the room multiply until you hit the low point: having to carve a path from the door to the bed.

And then you hunker down, and you clean.

That's where I was today. I was itching to clean up the mess, to sort out the piles and to...well, dive headfirst into my childhood.

I've lived in the same room since I was four years old. Despite all the cleaning out and weeding through of it, that room contains my history, and there are always treasures to be found. Every once in a while I get the urge to, not only clean off the floor and clear off the surfaces, but open the cupboards and drawers and begin pulling things out. Each time I embark into a cleaning frenzy, I am able to let go of more things than I could the last time: glittery butterfly clips, broken sea shells I don't remember, spiral notebooks from high school chemistry. And each time, I discover treasures: usually ordinary items, shoved into the drawer years ago, that remind me of who I am.

Today I was reminded of two aspects of my being:

1. I have always loved to write, and...
2. I had a unique downright strange sense of creativity.

Exhibit A.
One summer, I decided to create my own code. I believe I was ten or eleven, and I think it started on a car trip from Utah to Vegas. I gave each letter a symbol and made a chart for it, just like normal kids do when they create a code to write secret messages to their friends.

But then I memorized it. I practiced it so much that I didn't need to look at the chart to know the symbol for each letter. And I could read it. And then I filled a binder with pages of stories written exclusively in my special code.

feel free to use it for all your secret note needs.... it's a pretty sweet code.

binder-ful of stories

more pages

even more pages

The bad news is: I can no longer read this and am way too lazy to decode pages and pages of the stories I wrote. In addition, I am now concerned that I was a more abnormal child than I could have ever imagined.
The good news: If the US Government needs a code to relay secret messages in a time of war, I totes got them covered.

I think I have always been a writer at heart (although usually not in code... thank goodness). When I was in kindergarten or first grade, my mom bought me a little black and white composition notebook, and I filled it with stories: about a bunny who didn't like carrots, a girl who didn't like being the middle child (hmmm), and a girl with a dog named Cookie. As I got older, the tales became much more dramatic, and usually typed on the computer. Most every story included orphans, kidnappings, princesses... and often several elements of a movie I had just watched. (oops) I had plans to be published and famous after writing the next great.... children's chapter book.

Today I discovered the beginning of what could have been a masterpiece. It is entitled, "Anna's Adventure" and by the looks of the handwriting, I think I was about twelve.

Chapter One.

Anna was a fun-loving, brave, and spunky girl. So when her father announced he was going to a remote African jungle to collect scientific research, she begged to go. The next thing she knew, she was in a jeep escaping an angry pride of lions. She wondered what she had gotten herself into.

Chapter Two.

"You sleep in the higher hammock. You'll have a better chance of survival," Anna's dad said. They had arrived at their jungle hut finally after they got away from the lions. Anna looked around. Yuck. It was dirty, smelly, hot and mosquito infested. She felt a sting on her leg and looked down. "Dad!" She called, "I was stung by a beetle."
He ran in, then gasped. "It's poisonous!" he yelled. But it was too late. She fell to the floor with a thud.

Chapter Three.

"She's alive!" her dad shrieked. Anna sat up and looked around. She was in a big hut, surrounded by African tribal leaders. "Anna, these people saved your life." She met Chief Poko and the others, then she and her dad left the hut. On the way out, she collided with an American boy her age. "Anna, this is Matt. He helped me carry you here." Anna blushed and smiled. She had found a friend.

Dang. I'm super bummed it ended there. But c'mon. Chased by African lions and stung by a poisonous beetle and saved by a hot American boy all in one PAGE?? This could have been like a safari-themed Twilight.

the boy who lived. and the girl who knew all about it.

"So..... what was that whole thing with the triangle with circle with the line through it about again?"

My little sis Sarah and I were driving to watch Harry Potter 7 last weekend when I was home, and I was, sadly, clueless about the plot. No, I've read the books and seen the movies. I just have a terrible Harry Potter memory. I wish I knew it all better, for reals.

Thankfully, Sarah is a Harry Potter GENIUS. That girl knows everything about everything Harry Potter related.

As we zoomed along the Vegas roads on our way to the theater, Sarah managed to explain the entire plot of the first Harry Potter 7 movie, along with answering all my questions.

"Wait, so Snape's bad right?? Or is he good?? I can't remember!!! bahhh"

"Ok so, remind me what a horcrux is again...."

We enjoyed the movie (Sarah for the THIRD time) and definitely snuggled during the scary parts. Harry Potter was super hot and he and Ginny were totes adorable.

And....

SPOILER ALERT:
Harry Potter won and Voldemort lost.

Crazy, I know!!!! I wouldn't have seen the movie with anyone else.. Thanks for answering my questions all throughout the movie, Sarah!!!

she's a total hottie.

P.S. Was anyone else super nervous at the end, when Harry was standing wayyy too close to the edge with the Elder wand? Because I almost peed my pants. That was, like, the most nerve-wracking part of the entire movie for me. He almost fell to his death guys.

P.P.S. Check back tomorrow for a blog swap. Yes, I found someone to blog-swap with me. Miracles happen, people!!

Lost Posessions Paradise.

Somewhere far, far away, there is an island surrounded by bright blue, shark-infested waters.

No human has ever reached its shores alive, though many have died trying.

The beaches are sandy and warm and the palm trees sway lazily in the calm breeze. Coconuts fall gently into the sand and the birds sing beautiful melodies as the peaceful tide rolls in and out.

And every day, a large white ship with gleaming smoke-stacks splashes its way onto the shore to deliver its precious load : millions of eager bobby pins, chapsticks, and socks from homes worldwide.

Meanwhile, their friends across the globe slip slyly through open windows and into air vents and down pipes when their owners aren't looking; they head for the shore to catch a ride onboard the ship that will take them to the faraway island.




Every bobby pin dreams of the day when they will sift through the warm sand instead of enduring their lot in life: being shoved into the ponytails and dirty bangs of girls 'round the world. Every chapstick imagines the salty ocean waters and warm sun as it is smudged against cracked lips day after day. And every sock reminds it's spouse that one day, they will no longer be subjected to smelly feet and sweltering shoes; when the time comes, he will slip away while tumbling in the dryer and promise to send for her later.

These essential personal possessions endure the drudgery day by day, but they are plotting, they are planning, they are hoping. And one day, they will slip away, unseen, and head straight for the island of bobby pins, chapsticks, and socks to live out their existence in balmy bliss, never to be heard from again.

This is really the only explanation I could come up with for why those dang things are constantly disappearing. I've decided it has to be true.

Great News.

Thanks to a nail salon outing with my glam friend Chandice and my new acrylics, I can now successfully perform one of my favorite camera poses ever:

rawrrr!

Now its time for the bad news: I am suddenly poorer and I can't take out my contacts.

But back to the good news:

so satisfying. you will never understand the joy of this pose until you try it.

Yup, TOTALLY worth it.

A Heart-y Facebook Rant.

This post is about facebook hearts. You know what I'm talking about: those cutesy little alligator brackets eating the number three ( <3 ) that magically turn into real hearts on facebook when you hit enter (♥). Little hearts have never really been my style, but they have their place on facebook and can be totes adorb on statuses like:

"I love my family so much, they are the bombest family ever, love you family!! ♥"

Or maybe "I just got engaged to the love of my life, OMGGG! As soon as he gets out of prison we will be wed!! ♥ ♥ ♥"

Or even, "Today was the best day ever. I went to walmart, snuggled with some pigeons on the sidewalk, and then ate some nachos. I love my life. ♥"

I mean THAT works. But that is not the kind of facebook heart I am talking about in this post. No. It is not.

This post is about what I like to call "irrelevant emotion-invoking hearts." (I lied, I just coined that phrase, but let us call them IEIH's for short.) Trust me, you have seen these all over facebook.

These hearts usually show up after one word, or a short phrase of words. The important thing to note is that these words never incite any feelings of sentimentality or tenderness or love at all on their own. Ever. At all. Words like: taco bell. Or maybe fungus. Or polka music. Or lamp shades. Or maybe just the name of a celebrity you have never before heard of in your life, like Snorfus McDundlefiffer. (I just made him up, but let's just say he is a prominent thespian in certain agricultural regions of Scotland.)

But the point is, these words PLUS a tender little heart, somehow makes it POETRY to the facebook world. It doesn't matter what it is, if you put a heart next to it, EVERYONE WILL LIKE IT.

My little sister willingly offered up this post from her facebook as the perfect example. she is such a gem. yes I call her baby sometimes. and yes we both recently went to the beach.

I do not understand this. I am leading a revolt against irrelevant emotion-invoking hearts. (Remember, IEIH's for short. I'm going to make badges.)

But the fact of the matter is, those darn little hearts somehow make that status cute and sentimental. Observe:

taco bell ♥

fungus ♥

polka music ♥

lamp shades ♥

Snorfus McDundlefiffer ♥

See??? Suddenly I am brought to tears thinking about this person's tender experiences at a nearby Taco Bell. Maybe she met her soulmate while on a taco bell run? And maybe she just made her mother's favorite stuffed mushroom recipe and the familiar aroma of fungus is bringing tears to her eyes? Maybe the staccato oompas of the tuba in polka music reminds her of her late grandfather and how he would play the tuba for her as she drifted off to sleep? And maybe she was caught in an unlikely gun battle in a furniture store and her life was saved by putting a lamp shade over her head and standing really still!??!? Perhaps Snorfus McDundlefiffer really is the most talented and deep actor in the universe and we just don't know it yet!???

I DON'T KNOW. All I am assuming is that the word or phrase must be unquestionably tender for that person for her to put a heart next to it! Either that or they are just using hearts recklessly and trying to generate emotion where emotion is not and that's.... that's just not right.

IEIH protesters unite. I'm going to start a campaign on facebook. Regulation of hearts needs to happen people.

It needs to happen. ♥

(see how tender that made the last sentence? told you so.)

How do you feel about excessive hearts on facebook? Are you guilty of the crime?

JUST IN: Do you want to try it out?? Post an irrelevant status on facebook with a heart and tell us all how it goes in the comments or email me a screen shot at amyn2217 at gmail dot com!

To read more of my observations about facebook, check out The Facebook Friends We All Have and Facebook: Bringing out the stalker in all of us. Or don't. Your loss.

The Mini-Van Adventures.

Coming home has been quite a transition. I decided to come home to Las Vegas for spring term before returning to Provo in June to start summer term and find a job. I love being home and I love my family, but I also miss being up at BYU (A LOT) and I feel like almost all my friends are still in Utah. It's weird because when you first go to college, you spend so much time missing all your high school friends, but once you make college friends, you miss them even worse whenever you come home.

Its a terrible conundrum. Forget world peace, someone solve this situation for us college students!

I have found that being-at-home adventures are much, MUCH different than college adventures, specifically that they involve way less social interaction and much more sketchiness.

I have been home for exactly two weeks today, and so far, my summer adventures include:

• contracting bronchitis.
• watching Hulu in bed for days at a time.
• going to a doctor who was very confusing and told my mom that beating me vigorously on my back would help my cough.
• being beat on the back by said doctor. it. was. hilarious.
  
• getting lost on the way to the mall because they CHANGED THE ROADS while I was gone!! Who said that was allowed?
• watching the homeless man who spent the day sitting across the street from my house.
  
• beginning a running routine in the mornings! WOO!!!!!
• ending running routine 3 days later because I could not walk.
• deciding to ease into next running routine once my muscles heal/ allow me to be walk once again.
  
• sewing a baby blanket for my friend!
• running errands for my mom in her minivan!
• laying out in the hot desert sun with my little sister.
  And then getting a sunburn.
  
• cooking scrambled eggs for my dog every day. What??? I don't spoil her....
• attempting to make friends in the singles ward! And failing.

In conclusion, as I drive through the streets of Vegas in my mom's mini-van with the wind blowing through my locks.... I HAVE NEVER FELT COOLER. It's okay if you are jealous, I would be too.

And now I pose a question to my dear readers: What do you wish so badly you could do if only you had endless free time??

Because I do....

and I am totally going to steal your ideas.

:)

Psych!! -ology.

I'm kind of competitive.

I say kind of, because it really just comes and goes. Some days, I don't get too upset if I win or lose a game of ping pong or scrabble, but other days, I will flip out if I lose. Sometimes I even make up random challenges for myself. Kind of psychotic? Who knows.

Speaking of psychotic, I'm in a psychology class right now (last general to finish, holla!) and this morning I had to go participate in a 2 hour research study for credit in the class. I dragged my sorry little butt out of bed and walked to the lovely Taylor Building up the road, sniffling all the way with the cold that is slowly, but surely, coming on. (Who thought it was okay for it to snow in April, anyways?)

I couldn't have cared less about this study. Really.

this picture makes me crave smoothies.

I walked in, and after being sent to different parts of the building by misinformed secretaries, I went into a room with a researcher and filled out an hour-long questionnaire on a computer that made me over-analyze every aspect of myself and wonder if I was, in fact, more a terrible person than I ever thought.

Have you ever lied to someone? Uhh.. yes...
Have you ever done something you knew was wrong? ......Shoot. Yes.
Have you ever become so angry that you yelled? .... yup....
Have you ever done something that later filled you with guilt? Ok, ok! I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON, I get it!!

Then I watched a ten minute video of fish swimming around in the ocean. I think it was supposed to be relaxing, but I spent the entire time wondering if it was a trick and a shark was going to pop on screen and scare the heck out of me.

Then, the researcher explained that he was going to play audio of a string of numbers, and I had to add them in groups of two as it went along, adding the newest number to the number before it and so on. Its harder than it seems peeps.

2.. 5...(seven!)..3...(eight!). 4...(seven!).. 2...(six!)..9..(eleven!)..5..(fourteen!)...7... (twelve!)..

But all in my head. Each run through was going to get faster and faster, until I barely had time to speak in between numbers. Also, he was going to take my blood pressure after each trial, and he told me the study was to research stress and pressure to achieve or something like that.

Something clicked inside me (maybe it was the dayquil?), and I decided I was going to beast this freaking study and WIN it.

So, using my ten fingers and every cell of math ability in my brain, I pounced on every single math test, yelling out numbers and and frantically trying to remember the number that came before the one I just said. I messed up a lot, but I kept going, desperate to prove that I was a math genius.

Then, as he took my blood pressure, I tried to magically bring my blood pressure down through the powers of my mind and through deep breathing.

I just HAD to win the low-blood-pressure-high-math-ability challenge!

I felt like I did pretty well, and wondered when I would find out if I won or not. Then I walked out and realized: You cannot win a psychology study.

This is a fact.

But I still kind of want to practice that math thing and go try again to see if I do better.

Well, I better head to class. I hope I win the stepping on every leaf challenge as I walk. Don't get in my way fools.

Laundry Room Redemption

Doing laundry at my apartment complex is like gambling.

When I drop my precious quarters into the slot of a washing machine, I never know if the machine will actually wash my clothes, or if I just threw away six precious quarters. A dollar fifty here, a dollar fifty there... GONE.

Quarters are hard to come by. There is a change machine in the laundry room, but it was broken for quite some time. It was a dark time for me, those weeks. I refer to it as the laundry famine of winter 2010. I'm still trying to forget....

I struggle with laundry. Not laundry in general, but apartment complex laundry. Communal laundry rooms down in basements. I spent a whole post outlining my personal laundry cycle. And the time I almost got shanked in a laundry room.

All the distress builds up. Every quarter lost. Every washing machine that doesn't start. Every frustration, every grumble and every single moment of sorrow until it all forms into what can only be described as a dark mountain of emotional LAUNDRY ANGST that weighs down on your soul. It builds and builds until you snap.

And then, my friends, you end up right where I was today.

After putting my detergent and my bedding into a washer, I headed over to the change machine with a pretty little dollar bill in hand.

RRRRrrrrRR.....RRRRrrRRR..... RRrrrRRR.... duddudududdddhh...

It. Got. Stuck.

Nooooooooooo!!! I didn't have any more quarters. And now the change machine was going to be broken for weeks to come. And I was going to become "the girl who broke the change machine and ruined everyone's life."

the enemy

That was the moment that the mountain of emotional laundry angst came crashing down and something within me turned from "innocent college girl" to "vicious beast of dollar bill redemption who would sacrifice anything to get my money back." I couldn't lose one more dollar. I just couldn't (cue weeping).

I looked into the machine, and saw my dollar bill crumpled up and stuck in the slot. Only a little corner was sticking out, but it was too far in for my fingers to reach.

So I yanked the bobby pin out of my hair and went at it.

Digging and maneuvering, I worked at that corner until I pulled out a little more of the crumpled bill. Grunting and sweating, I worked, pushing and angling that tiny little bobby pin. The dollar bill would come out more, then crumple in further. But it was still too far for my fingers to reach. I needed some way to grab onto the bill to pull it out.

Ten minutes passed, and it was time to reach inside for my inner McGyver.

It came to me, like a light bulb of laundry room heroism. The gum I was chewing! I quickly spit it out of my mouth, stuck it on the end of the bobby pin and poised myself for the most risky laundry room maneuver thus far.

If it succeeded, I got my dollar back.

If it failed, I would not only be that girl who broke the change machine by getting a dollar bill stuck, but I would have also ruined it by getting a piece of gum jammed up there as well.

There was no going back. Perspiration dripping off my forehead, I carefully pushed the gum-covered bobby pin into the slot and, with the precision of the surgeon, attached the gum to the dollar bill, and pulled. The result?

SWEET RESTITUTION!!!

Joy overcame me and I clutched my dollar bill to my heart, jumped up and down and pumped my fists like a giddy six year old. I was so happy it was almost ridiculous.

Okay laundry room. You're used to winning. But today? Victory was mine.

Headbands... the way Nature intended.

I am talented at a few things. Things like picking up small objects with my toes. Things like sleeping through alarm clocks. Things like saying tongue twisters with impressive speed.

Did you notice that my list did not include doing cute things with hair? So did I. Therefore, when I actually do succeed at finding a hair trick that is successful I am... pretty psyched.

I present to you: Nature's Headband. (I took the liberty of attaching a name to the 'do)


Nature's Headband: Get the amazing hair- holding abilities and the look of sleek sophistication without the toxic chemicals of plastic or the painful side effects of tight metal headbands.

Pure. Organic. Endorsed by hippies everywhere.

All it takes is a low braid on one side of your head, pulled up and over the top of your head...

...and pinned! And if your hair is too short to go all the way over like mine, then just stick a flower over the bobby pins!

TA-DA!! I am so proud. I am even more proud that I am dressed, because I spent the morning in my pjs, throwing up. The hair is just like the cherry on top.

Check back tomorrow for another tutorial:

"How to Groom a Sexy Foo-Manchu in Five Minutes or Less."

Someone take my contacts out for me.

Yesterday I glued on fake nails because I like to satisfy my inner diva. They are bling-blinging, which is highly desirable and I bought them at the grocery store for $3.50 so they're totally worth it.

Right now I want to take a nap, but its too hard to take out my contacts with these suckas.



Also, I have an entire pack of Starbursts and I can't open the wrappers.

When I was in high-school I would go with my friend Chandice to get our acrylic nails done. It was awesome and I loved them. I was pro at wearing long nails. But alas, I haven't worn acrylics for two years and I forgot my skills... Today I had to resort to my teeth to open a ziplock bag.

Maybe being a bling bling diva is not worth it. Good thing these babies will fall off by tomorrow. Although, I don't now, the clickety clack of typing with long nails is highly satisfying.

Also, having diva nails makes me feel flashy and fly and often induces me to present the following poses:

the "Ima Gangsta, fool!" pose.

the "I rock this party" look... highly popular.

"The Claw." Strangely delightful. You should try it immediately.

the "I just figured out how to open the starburst and ate the entire package."

Someone please ban me from my webcam. After you take out my contacts.

The Laundry Cycle of Amy

Laundry is a viscous cycle in my life....

It all begins when the laundry basket is empty and all the clothes are clean. All is well in the world. I make a solemn vow to myself to keep up on my laundry.

A week passes. The laundry basket is barely even full!

Two weeks pass. I feel a twinge of guilt every time I see those smelly clothes crammed into that basket.

About three weeks have passed. Utter denial.

A month later. I desperately need to do laundry, but I would rather poke my eyeballs with hot needles because now my laundry basket resembles Mt. Everest. I shudder.

I finally do my laundry. It takes hours and hours of hauling heavy loads down the slippery concrete steps, dozens of quarters, spilled detergent, awkward laundry-room encounters, clock-watching, trips back and forth, back and forth, drying wet loads over and over as I watch my money disappear, and I am filled with despair as wretched tears are wept while my hours slip away.

I haul all my laundry (consisting of almost all the clothes I own) back to my apartment and throw them down in exhaustion.

The next day, now that they are well-wrinkled from lying in a pile, I remorsefully hang up every piece of clothing I own and re-fill my wistful looking closet.

Empty laundry basket. PURE JOY.

All is well in the world.

I vow to keep up on my laundry next time.

REPEAT.

Guess where I am in the cycle today? Hahahahahahaha....

Dang.

The Tale of an Elevator and a Star Quarterback

I don't know why people give me any credit for this blog. I swear, it writes itself most days.

Two days ago, I was coming from the bookstore on the third floor of the Wilkinson Center (BYU's student center) carrying a box of books I had just picked up.... Well, "carrying" sounds too graceful.. How about "grunting like a man under the weight of the TWENTY heavy books I had to buy for classes."

No lie, I'm positive there was grunting involved. It was a dang heavy box.

I hit the elevator button with my elbow, proud at how well I was managing.

Then Jake Heaps and his girlfriend walked over and it all went downhill.

Jake Heaps: BYU football hero.

THE Jake Heaps: Freshman quarterback extraordinaire.

Yes..... the Jake Heaps that broke every BYU freshman quarterback record, the Jake Heaps that threw game-winning football passes that brought BYU out of it's slump this football season.

I wanted to say something to him.

Something like, "Hey nice job throwing all those passes!" or maybe "You rock Jake Heaps!"

I found myself standing in an elevator with him. And his cute girlfriend. And my extremely heavy box. And I knew it would not go well.

"Umm.... can you hit three for me?"

"Uhh.... well we're actually on three," said the cute girlfriend. I have this problem way too often.

"Oh! Haha! Yeah I meant two! Haha. Ha. Ha. He...." said I.

"Ok," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, I always get confused!!" I said.

***awkward silence****

I could feel myself blushing as red as a tomato as I struggled under the weight of my unwieldy box. My arms were seriously trembling as I held the dang thing. So much for even bringing up my admiration for the football star standing in the elevator with me...

Then, Jake Heaps himself said with a friendly smile, "That's okay, I get confused too!"

I smiled at him. The elevator doors opened and I rushed out.

Jake Heaps: Football extraordinaire. BYU celebrity. But above all, kind citizen of the world, even with a flustered girl in an elevator who can never keep track of what floor she's on.

I am an even bigger Jake Heaps fan than before.

My Christmas Wasn't White and I liked it that way!

Sorry to leave you hanging on a depressed note there folks! My little sister said all week she's been opening my blog and it was depressing her to see the same, unhappy post. I feel bad. As if anyone else was checking my blog this week instead of hanging ornaments and sipping cocoa...

Ha. Ha. Ho Ho Ho.

But seriously, things have been going A-OK with me these days. Being home is the best. I think it takes being away for a long time to appreciate the little things:

Free food. And LOTs of it. Ohhhhhhh yeah, HAPPY Amy!!

Free laundry. Excellent. No quarters required. No dragging laundry baskets down icy steps.

No school. My brain appreciates this. It is still recuperating from the tragedy of finals week.

Old friends. Who knows you better than the people you grew up with? And you can make them help you wrap Christmas presents! Its a great arrangement.

NO SNOW. I think that says it all. No wait. Also: SHORT SLEEVES. Yup. Be jellz..

And most of all: FAMILY!!! Being around family is pretty entertaining because they have to love you no matter how many sugar cookies you eat and no matter how many giggling fits you get into once the sugar kicks in. Fantastic.

My mom decided to kick off an annual Christmas Eve nativity play this year with our family. Its gonna be really special years down the road when there are grandkids to dress up and a big family gathered together. This year, it was..... humble..

..And... we don't have enough men to pull off a nativity yet..

My dad already had a wise man costume he was pretty proud of from a nativity play at the church. He was set on wearing it.

My mom decided Jess would be the angel since shes the oldest.

Sarah was going to be Mary.

"Who do I get to be?" I asked innocently.

"Joseph."

I knew it.

The dog was the shepard. I'm not kidding.

Its okay, I know my family still loves me. Even though they didn't choose me to be a beautiful, glowing angel in a long white dress, I'm cool with it. Even though I didn't get to hold a doll wrapped in swaddling clothes and act as the holy virgin mother, I know I'm still appreciated. Even though I had to put my hair back and dress like a man, my feelings are not hurt.....


*sob*



I'm kidding. Who wouldn't want to cross-dress on Christmas Eve? It is hilarious! And so much more memorable.

Best Joseph EVER.

In short:

I love my hilarious family, and...

MERRY CHRISTMAS GANGSTAS!!!

Sometimes my life is just a string of embarrassing moments.

Earlier today. Third floor of the Wilk. (Why does everything happen in the Wilk?)

I'm walking to the stairs to head down to the 2nd floor.

The elevator opens.

I decide to take the elevator instead since its ready.

It starts shutting before I can get there.

I put out my hand to keep it open.

Doesn't work.

I start walking to the stairs feeling rejected.

The elevator opens and the people inside call out to me.

I run back and get inside.

I hit the 3rd floor button.

It doesn't light up.

The nice people inside remind me that we are already on the third floor.

I meant to hit the second floor..

So then it goes down to the first floor.


Definitely should have just taken the stairs.

Remember when you didn't know what a blog was?

I used to be obsessed with Time magazines. I was always an avid reader, but when I hit my teen years, it was all about current events for me. I read the newspaper every day after school, even the boring articles. I read Time magazine cover to cover every week. I checked CNN.com daily. Obviously I was one of the coolest teens around.

Long ago, when I was probably 13 or 14, I remember lying on my parent’s bed reading their Time magazine. There was an article about an up-and-coming internet phenomenon that I had never heard of. It was called: A BLOG.

I remember being super confused by the article. The concept of a blog was something I just couldn’t understand. I had never even SEEN one. I was so confused by this article that I still remember it five years later.

And now blogging is what I think about when I am in the shower.

Thank you Time magazine.

And thank you readers and fellow bloggers. I got into this blog thing because I love to write and I am having so much fun meeting other funny bloggers and getting new readers! It’s so exciting for a new blogger and I love it! Thanks to Helena over at lifeinthepitts.com for not only inspiring me with her hilariousness but also featuring me this week on her blog! Virtual high-five to you my friend!

I’ll keep reading Time magazine and let you guys know what we can expect to see in the future. Maybe flying cars? Robots that do our laundry? Global warming so drastic that its summertime all year? Because that would be fantastic. Sorry. I’m cold right now.

This morning I put two contacts in the same eye....

And it took me like ten minutes to figure out why it was so blurry. Seriously. Ten entire minutes.

I think this is pretty representative of my entire week. Wandering through my busy life in a daze of confusion. Thank you to the people who love me in spite of my lack of sanity.

Good thing my mom, my sis, and her bff are arriving to visit in, oh I don't know...

TEN MINUTES!!!!!!!

So psyched for this weekend. Its gonna be so much fun!!!!

As long as I can figure out how to put in my dang contacts next time...

Man Alive!

(I learned that phrase from my New Testament teacher. He's a pretty legit guy. He is also kind of old but I appreciate learning from cool phrases from my elders)

This week has been a little harder for me to get my act together than usual. Does anyone else ever feel "off" for a couple days?

You know those people who walk around totally put together all the time? Not a hair out of place? Always graceful? Smiling? Attracting hordes of the opposite gender? Is anyone reading one of those people? If so, please let me know how you accomplish that. Because this week I am just NOT one of those people.

It all started early Monday morning when I rolled out of bed and two minutes later, accidentally rubbed toothpaste in my eye. Yeah. Tell me how I managed that because I have no idea. Then later Monday morning, after strenuously running up a big hill to get to campus, I ran into an old friend and right then my sweat glands decided to have a pool party and my lungs decided to give out and stop delivering oxygen. So that was really cute.

Another highlight from this week: I emerged from the basement of the library into the afternoon sun and my eyes went into denial and would not ADJUST to the harsh rays of burning sunlight attacking my face. I felt like I would go blind and I had to walk to my next class across campus. And I didn't even have my sunglasses. So I started squinting the most intense squint I could possibly manage, but that wasn't cutting it, so I put up my hands to shade my eyes... and looked like a total loser. Mind you, no one else around me was having problems with the sun. It is there, up in the sky, every day. I think my retinas just forgot how to deal with it. Then my eyes gave up on attempting to handle the sun and begin watering like crazy.

So there I was, wandering across campus, hands over my eyes, blinded by the stupid sun with tears streaming down my face. It was at this point that I wanted to dump out the contents of my backpack, pull it over my head, find some shade and curl up in the fetal position until the sun had set.

I kind of have a history with this problem:

Ruining pictures one squint at a time!

"Amy! Put your hand down!"

"But I can't seeeeeeeeee!!!"

Then I drank an entire water bottle right before class and had to go to the bathroom really bad just in time for my professor to teach us about the disastrous effects of heavy rainfall.

So if you happen to see an out-of-breath girl with toothpaste in her eye running to a bathroom with tears streaming down her face, no worries, its just me. Totally normal!! Ahaha... ha..... ha..

MAN ALIVE!!