It's like they wrote this song about me.

So I've never actually watched Veggie Tales (was it a TV series? movies? I'm sure wikipedia.org could tell me, but that's not the point). But I do know that Katie Duncan has never been to Boston in the fall. Which is apparently a Veggie Tales song.

So I watched this video, since it will soon not apply to me (the Boston part anyway).

And when I did, I discovered how much it described my life.

I mean, a few things are inaccurate: I've been to Denver. And St. Paul (that's a new one this last summer). But I didn't bury treasure there, so really I guess it's just the Denver one. Pretty much everything else is accurate:

I've never been to Greenland.

I've never swabbed a poop deck (not really sure what swabbing entails, not interested in finding out).

Sometimes I feel like a pirate (ok, not a pirate) who doesn't do anything (I need a job. Real bad. I have far too much time on my hands).

I've never been to Boston, in any season (including fall).

And the clincher: I don't look good in leggings (darn you, current fashion trends).

It was a little creepy. It's like those veggies were singing the story of my life.

Melanie wanted a shout out. Because she reads this blog a few times a year.

The Dream Team

I almost entitled this post "Another Saturday Night and We Ain't Got Nobody", but decided that that kind of pathetic didn't need to go into the title.

Anyways, last weekend, in honor of things changing with the new school year and such, we decided to make some goals for ourselves. A little funny since none of us are actually still in school, except Eben, but we are still here in the Prov living the college lifestyle so we'll go along with it for now.

We made some group centered goals for everyone and also some personal goals for the week. Please pay attention to the star chart. You can never go wrong with a good star chart. We have since moved the goals to a higher technology that is a Google Doc. I love Google Docs almost as much as I love star charts.

These are the people that were fortunate enough to be there in person when it all began, (Eben is looking forward to graduate life already, it was a crazy night).



We have now included some of our dearest friends from across the country in our goals as well. And that is how The Dream Team (or at least this version) was born.

The Dream Team
Not Pictured: Mark Skinner, Deanna Roark, Eben Hinton



Here's to becoming better in all areas of life!

Dear Brian Littrell

Dear Brian,

I just wanted to write a quick note to say thanks for an unforgettable night. I know it's been 2.5 months now, but I still just can't stop thinking about it.

You know, I may not have ever told you this, but back when you guys were first big in the U.S., I totally had a crush on you. A lot of my friends thought Nick was the cutie, but you were the one I was drawn to. You promised you'd be there to make me smile. You promised to never break my heart. You promised you'd be the one. Needless to say, you won me over. You were my fire. I knew that without you all I was going to be was incomplete.

I guess what I really want to say is...Thanks for sticking with it all these years. I know you probably get a lot of crap for still being in a "boy" band at age 35, but I, for one, respect that you are not ashamed of who you are. You wear the matching sequined "B" jacket with pride.

And you still totally own that classic boy band choreography (more than Nick can say...but I'm not sure he was ever a great dancer). Very impressive.

So even though Nick is undeniably the most attractive Backstreet Boy now (and funny how 5 years doesn't seem like much of an age gap anymore), I just wanted you to know that you'll always hold a special place in my heart.

xoxo

19 November 2010

Last night as I was laying in bed, wishing I had my chapstick that was in the other room, I started thinking how nice it would be to be able to conjure up a nice summoning charm. Accio chapstick! I think I may have even started practicing my swish and flick.

[Subject Change]*

You know those dreams where you realize you completely forgot to attend one of your classes all semester and now you have to go take the final? I don't. My mom said she still has that dream from time to time, but somehow I never had stressful test dreams. Until this summer. Go figure, I wait until after I graduate before I start having school nightmares.

Yeah, the Bar was that scary for me.

But the dreams never actually involved the test itself. It was always me, unable to get to the test (I had a very conscious fear of not getting there on time). I didn't have a pencil, and couldn't take the test.** Or we were trying to get pizza before the test and all the pizza places were closed. You know, weird stuff that makes sense in dreams and causes very real stress.

I didn't dream about the actual test until about 2 days beforehand. That one was terrible. I just kept writing essays I didn't know the answers to.*** I woke up and saw that it was like 3am, but I didn't want to go back to sleep if it meant that I had to dream about the next part of the test.

But the worst part is, I didn't start sleeping better when the test was over. I woke up a couple mornings ago in a panic. Oh my gosh, is the Bar today? Did I miss it? Can I still make it on time? That fleeting but intensely fearful sensation may have been worse than any of the dreams.

This post is getting boring and I'd like to be done reliving the Bar in any form.

Let's finish the way we started: HP.

*At one point, the above thought was connected to the below thought in my mind, but I no longer see the connection and am not going to attempt to make a smooth transition.

**This was obviously before I found out pencils were not even allowed.

***Although, maybe my dream wasn't quite as bad as one of my friends, who had a dream where he opened the cover of the test booklet and the first question was about Organic Chemistry. Talk about nightmares.

The Final Countdown

It has come to this. Jill has graduated from law school and after months of studying she is taking the Bar this Tuesday and Wednesday. I'll just be glad to have it over so she can start enjoying the summer with us. I think she might agree. Good luck Jill!

fishtail.

Rational Thoughts

So it might be an understatement to say I'm not a morning person. I love how much I can get done when I am awake early, and really do LIKE mornings. It's the getting out of bed part that I just can't do.

I get all sorts of thoughts that seem to make sense at the time, but when I think back on them, they make little to no sense at all. They usually involve reasons for me to stay in bed. I'm REALLY good at convincing myself that it would be a better idea to go back to sleep than get up and go to the gym (sometimes this happens even after I've been up and actually out of bed for a few minutes). I'm also pretty good at rationalizing skipping class.

Sometimes in the hour-long process of waking up and hitting snooze, my dreams mix with conscious thoughts.

Here's a thought pattern I had the other day:

(Note: This very well could have taken place over the course of like 30 minutes. Time is so fluid at this time of day.)

Oh man, it's St. Patrick's Day isn't it?

(Roll over.)

Yes, it's St. Patrick's Day.

(My pillow is so soft.)

Hmmm....That means it is ValPal's birthday.

(Stretch.)

I should give her a call. Or at least send a happy bday textual message.

(Get out of bed. Walk down hall, through kitchen, through laundry room, towards bathroom.)

Man, good thing I wore green shorts to bed. I wouldn't want to get pinched right now.

(Pause.)

Wait a second...it's June. It's not St. Patrick's Day. And it's not Val's birthday.

That's too bad.

Teacher, can I use the Hall Pass?

I've maybe expressed how law school = middle school (mostly just the first year).

I had all my classes with the same subsection of our class. My classes were assigned. My carrel was like my locker, which I visited between each class to trade out books I needed for each class. I never had to leave the building all day.

The difference was that my friends were approaching 30, not 13.

And now I've reverted even further (farther? I still don't know):

Bar Prep = elementary school.

Here's what I did in class yesterday.

I filled in blanks in a workbook.

What? You don't trust me to take notes on my own on my computer without getting distracted by gchat and wikipedia?

Thank you BarBri for realizing I have the attention span of a 2nd grader.

Choices

We have to make a lot of choices in life. Some of the most difficult involve which celebrity gossip to believe and what to dismiss as false.

For example, some celebrity "trivia" I choose to believe:

Jamie Lee = hermaphrodite.

"Lady" Gaga may actually be "Sir" Gaga.

There is a website called ladygagaisaman dot com. What more proof do you need?

And some falsehoods I refuse to just blindly accept:

Tupac is dead.

TMZ saw him in New Orleans recently.

And this article citing the Top 20 reasons (narrowed down from 50) why he's alive points out some striking parallels between Mr. Shakur and Machiavelli. An interesting read.

And most recently...

Wentworth Miller is gay.

Just because he is the frontman for a popular men’s high-fashion line in South Korea (you have good taste, Korea) doesn't mean he is gay.

Z....and Done! (phew!)

Janna is grateful for this sweet face she gets to see every time she opens her kitchen cupboard.

Not sure why she doesn't eat more. That's some pretty strong incentive (or at least pretty incentive).

And I'm grateful for zodiac signs. Because a zodiac compatibility website told me that this guy and I are a "perfect connection."

Apparently we are "well suited intellectually and every other way."

I might be in love.

Y

That's my school!

(Or at least, it was.)

X? Not so much.

So unless I decided to mention something X-rated here, which I won't, because I'm not that kind of girl, this post has nothing to do with the letter X. However, today Darren pointed out to me that I missed the birthday of my favorite baseball player. I am shamefaced. So, here's to you Joe. Happy Birthday. I love you.

p.s Jill, I feel like this should count as X anyways. At least I mentioned it.

W

Love.

It's so elusive.

And let's be real. Dating sucks. Some of us can use all the help we can get.

For that reason (among others) I am grateful for

the Wingman.

To those who are willing to take one for the team so your buddy can live the dream...

Thank you.

Your selfless service makes the world a better place.

...and...

"W" runner up: wikipedia.

I've tried to avoid doing too many posts with multiple things, but I can't not give a shout out to the blessing that is wikipedia.org.

Yes, it is helpful for quickly briefing legal cases you will be called upon to discuss in class.

Yes, it is a perfect quick-reference when you're wondering if Amy Adams' hair is naturally red, or need help explaining to your roommates why Song of the South was never fully released on home video in the United States.

Yes. It is awesome.

Here's a sampling of recently read wikipedia articles:

-Sweet Valley Twins

-List of animals with fraudulent diplomas

-The Ides of March

-Snapple

-Grantor Retained Annuity Trusts

-The Wonder Years

I just have so much more to say about all of these things. But I won't. Not here, not now. Wikipedia just enriches my life.

And in other W news: my waterpolo team is in the championship tomorrow night. Just saying.

A pause from our regular programming

We haven't been giving birthday shouts out lately because I still haven't finished this whole ABC thing, and I'm afraid if I break away from it, I never will (and that would obviously be a terrible, terrible thing).

However, it just doesn't seem right to just pass right by my co-bloggers birthday without any mention of it.

Happy Birthday Janna!

I know it's not much, but here is what I would like to give to you.

(I figure it's perfect because you are also a bit of a baseball/softball all-star.)

Love ya!

V is for Victory

Nuff said.

U is for ... Underpants

Because this clip is the only thing that came to mind with the letter U. Where would we be without them*?

or if you need more context:

Also, Janna reminded me we should give a special "U" shout out to urbandictionary.com, which blessed us with the much-needed definition of cheet (um, just the first def).

And how many times in my life have I needed to call "no stalk," but didn't know it was a legit-thanks-to-urban-dictionary phrase? (I could have used it that one time I met my friend's husband, whom I felt like I already knew...)

*Them refers to both underpants and the cast of Boy Meets World, including half of one of my favorite sibling-actor pairs.

T is for Twizzling.

In case you were wondering, I'm still grateful for things.

Twizzle

\twi'z-'l\, noun:

1. a subtle touch that signifies more than friendship

2. may be manifested through a hand nuzzle, particularly to the elbow region, or a finger scratch, particularly to one's knee cap.

3. an action often involving a foam finger* and/or face-to-foam contact.

verb:

1. to administer a twizzle to another person

*(specifically, this foam finger)

But really it's one of those things you just know when you see/experience it (like skittling maybe).

I don't really know how to define it.

I just know I'm grateful for it.

let it Snow!

One of my least favorite things in the world (besides waiting in lines) is being cold.

However, I do love the snow. At least while it is falling in those big, fatty flakes I can catch on my tongue and when it is still fresh and good to play in.

Things snow is good for:

Snowmobiling.

up to Lightning Peak

Building snowmen.

Most recently, with the sisters. Building a snowman that looks like Dad's passport photo.

Skiing.

I ski these days. I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a skiier, but...ok, maybe I will. I'm a skiier. Just not a good one. That would be Janna.

I figured I've lived in Utah for 7 years now, I may as well learn how to ski. Especially while I can take the class through BYU. Being a student is awesome. Anyway, such a good decision. I'm starting to get a glimpse of why people want to become ski bums.

And I find myself wishing it wasn't so warm for February (what has happened to me?) and wishing it would snow a foot. Or two. Quebes, does your rain dance work for snow?

And of course,

Battle sledding.

Changed my life. And changed the shape of my leg for about a year. Don't worry. That bump is 99% gone now. Thank you Logan and Klompers for a memorable snow season 2008.

RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

As some good friends have often said, the time for thinking is over; the time for action is now.

So I will stop thinking about what I will post for the letter R and start posting.

I'm grateful for Repentance. Contrary to what I used to think as a kid, repentance is not a punishment; it's a blessing. By not repenting, we are only punishing ourselves, denying ourselves of blessings that God is just waiting to pour out upon us.

I loved Elder Andersen's talk in the last General Conference about repentance.

"The invitation to repent is rarely a voice of chastisement but rather a loving appeal to turn around and to 're-turn' toward God."

It's hard and it can be scary. And it's sometimes hard for me to remember that the Lord already knows how I feel, because He's already been there, for me (see A). And it's only through repentance that I will be able to be healed and be encircled in the arms of my Savior's love, which sounds pretty good to me.

So I'm going to go ahead and say it: worth it.

Quarterbacks.

I love BYU football. I really do. The BYU - Utah game 2006 was one of the more stressful days of my football watching life. It also provided one of the happiest moments of my football watching life. I can't describe it, but if watching clips of the last play of the game still takes your breath away like it does mine, then I don't have to.

or here's another one, with different commentary, which also fills me with joy. I couldn't pick just one.

...pause in the ABCs...

I saw this background today and knew Jill would love it. So, this one is a shout out to you Jill Pill.

Puppies!

Especially one puppy in particular: Brandi (1996-2009), may she rest in peace.

She was the best pet we ever had, and not just because she is the only pet we've ever had. She started out as a pet, but really ended up being our youngest sister.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who accidentally would mix up Laura and Brandi's names.

She started as an "outside dog" because my parents didn't really want a dog living in the house. That lasted one night. After that, the doghouse was really just a lawn ornament. The she was only allowed in the family room level of the house. A gate separated her from the rest of the house. Then she just wasn't allowed in the kitchen or bedrooms. But little by little, she took over the entire house.

She used to pretend she didn't like to wear hats, but she got used to it, and maybe even embraced it.

Last time I was home I found a mullet wig that was far too small to fit any normal human head (though it did look quite adorable on nephew Will). Sure enough, it was Brandi's. She had such a great sense of humor.

She loved playing outside, hated all other canines, and got uncontrollably excited whenever I was wearing anything remotely resembling athletic shorts or running shoes. She loved my dad, showing off her teeth, and staring at you with her soulful brown eyes anytime you went near the bread in the kitchen.

Favorite words: outside, bread, daddy, mommy, potty, car, walk.

She was so tolerant

...most of the time (exception: nee nee finglies).