"So this is what it's like having a deaf sister"

I can't remember the exact roots of this phrase, but somewhere along the way, my friends began referring to my body as one "of steel". It has something to do with the fact that I rarely get sick, can get by with little sleep, and I'm sure it has something to do with the size of my calves. After the last two months I will have to relinquish the title "Body of Steel". Between a brutal academic semester, a new job, and my need to be social and see dollar movies, I gave my body less than little sleep and it wasn't pleased. The result being that I got sick 3 times in two months. This is probably more than my sicknesses in the past 3 years combined.

While watching a movie at Marci's this week(I tell you it's those movies that get me!), I started to lose my voice. Very strange I thought. It got progressively worse until I awoke on Christmas Eve Day and to my surprise it was gone completely. I mean really trying, I couldn't get out more than a whisper. Kylie, Alyssa, and Liz came over for breakfast. I learned from this gathering that without me talking, everyone is generally much quieter AND I'm not nearly as funny or sarcastic as a mute. Part of being sarcastic is jumping in with the perfect comment at the perfect time and when no one realizes you are talking, the moment is easily lost.

After breakfast I had to do some Christmas shopping. As one who hates customer service, I have become a master at avoiding talking to workers so this wasn't a problem. However, as I was walking up to the photo counter at Walmart I realized there was no way to avoid a conversation. Luckily a kind old man asked me what he could do, I grabbed my throat and whispered something about losing my voice. He got the point that I needed to pick up pictures and asked for my name. I couldn't get it out! He had no idea what I was trying to mouth to him. So I busted out my student i.d. and had him read it. At another store I got away with not giving them my phone number and email because the kid didn't want to bother with me writing things down. Overall I felt like a jerk at every store nodding my head and not responding to everyone's Merry Christmas! greetings.

Dinner provided a similarly quiet experience, although my voice was slowly returning. I had lots of stories and comments to add to the conversation but I had to recite them to myself instead of sharing them with the table. After my day of silence I have so many questions for mute people! How are they funny, how do they have friends, or a personality, how do they explain quickly to a store clerk that in fact they cannot speak?! How do they avoid being rude or boring? They can use sign language with people that know it, but how do they get them to look at them? I was so sick of clapping and getting in people's faces for them to realize I was speaking. Props to them. I would like to interview somebody, preferably in writing.

Price Family Tree

Although we are nearing Christmas, I felt a little something needed to be said about Thanksgiving this year. Not only was it "our turn" for Thanksgiving so all the sibs were here, but it was also the J.R. Price reunion which happens once every three years. I just have a few thoughts on the event.

First, I did end up staying at Orange Tree, which was a good call. Sadly, I think it may be the last time because Dayne and Myhoa realized that they were foolish for giving it up! However, if you ever stay there, keep in mind that this place was built on a skinny mile-long piece of land with the parking lot at one end. Needless to say that was fun. Particularly the one time Brittany forgot her keys so I had to literally run back to the room. I returned with a bloody foot. Also, the one time I walked to the house from the hotel I got honked at by a raper van. Awesome.

Second, Thanksgiving at Village Inn is surprisingly good. While my grandma may have been appalled, I think she would have been happy that all 74 of us were together, even if we weren't eating off of china.

Third, these extended family reunions are just awesome. I am telling you there is a full on itinerary including classes, a talent show, and a 3 hour long testimony meeting. When Linx heard us reading off the schedule one day she finally interrupted with a confused..."What is this?!" We even have a song "Price Family Tree". I need to get my hands on those lyrics for a future blog post, keep an eye open.

Fourth, you may ask if I had any interesting sleeping experiences this family vacation? For one full day I slept in a fit of dilirium in my hotel room, only to be awoken for the occasional throw up. On Thanksgiving day I took a nap on the ground behind some chairs because there were no couches or beds open, and no one could find me.

Fifth, the same day I was dying my Dad went to the emergency room so everyone forgot about me in my hotel. Okay his was more serious, but he's okay.

While that weekend was absolutely crazy it was actually a really good time. Rarely are we all together. And of course I recovered quickly enough to come back and dominant in some Carumba. The one thing I lament is that I did not have some poor boy to bring home this Thanksgiving. With the amount of chaos and ridiculous family gatherings, along with singing our family song, I think we could have scared just about anyone to death. It would have made a great movie.

Is this real life?!

So I'm working on this presentation where I discuss how the media uses images to help convince us of whatever they are saying. So I was brainstorming about visuals and then this thought popped into my head about those idealistic pictures of food. You know the ones. They just look beautiful and then you order the hamburger and it looks horrendous. Anyways, this is the reason I was googling fast food pictures and ran across this gem. Anyone who knows me knows how much I hate Krispy Kremes and this image has solidified that feeling forever.



Introducing the krispy kreme bacon-cheddar-cheeseburger. I'd rather not have a heart attack thank you.

Do you remember

Remember that time I spilled ink all over my computer? It's like I'm Whitney or something, except hers was cereal and OF COURSE mine is ink. As if art classes haven't already taken away my social life, loft cleanliness, and general sanity, they had to take away my computer as well. No use crying over spilt ink though. Luckily only my mouse was damaged and I went off and purchased a wireless one. This is all the complaining I will do because as previously stated to SAC last night...I don't even have the time to break down. Countdown until freedom from art=2 days
6 drawings, 1 project, and 17 loose ends to tie up before then. See you on the other side.

P.s. Chris Brown Today!!!!

Rear Window

Okay this blog requires some background for most of you. My apartment is at the end of the complex and is therefore full of windows. Many of these windows look out onto 700 north. Only days after moving in, my room mates and I had discovered the house across the street. The first red flag is the tarps permanently covering all the windows. Then we noticed the outrageous amount of crap on their porch. The house was then labeled the halfway house or the drug house depending on the day.

In the past few months there has been a lot of action at this house. Generally, there are large amounts of people hanging out on the porch and vans pulling in and out of the driveway dropping people off. By the looks of this group and the hours they keep I'm pretty sure that none of them could carry a real job, they are not a family, I have no idea what their relationships are. Then, specifically, there was the afternoon that it all started to get really weird. Sac and I were both home in the afternoon working on homework in different rooms. Suddenly a cat began meowing IN OUR APARTMENT. Sac yelled my name and we began investigating. However, there was no cat to be found and we realized that it was in fact coming from the drug house. We went back to work. Minutes later I heard a woman hacking up a lung IN OUR APARTMENT. Again we searched and again we realized it was coming from the drug house. This was the day "the woman" came into being. Ever since then I heard her coughing at least once a week. I am positive that she smokes 3 packs a day and worked in a coal mine at some point in her life.

Now here is where it gets crazy. Two days ago Sac announces that she heard "the woman" yelling, followed by a thumping sound. Then, last night upon returning from the gym, the halfway house is surrounded: two police cars, an ambulance, and a firetruck. I popped some popcorn (not really) and we began watching the show. There were so many theories being thrown out there that we had NO IDEA what would happen: drug overdose, domestic dispute, dead cat, etc. After a few minutes somebody mentions that the paramedics didn't seem to be in any hurry. That's when it hit us. "The woman" DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Minutes later they take a stretcher out of the ambulance and roll it over to the door. We waited in anticipation while they went inside. Then the front door opened and they were carrying...."A body bag, a body bag!" (note: Sac actually chanted that). Okay it was really just a sheet wrapped around the body but it was a DEAD body.

"The woman" actually died! Okay we don't actually know who it was. It could have been any of the dozens of people who hang out there but I'd like to believe that the black lung finally got her. After weeks of joking about how something sketchy was going on there and how we should call the cops...BOOM somebody dies. This may sound horrible, but it was the highlight of my week.

The paramedics waved at us as they drove away.

Feeling Swiney

I know, I know, two posts in a matter of hours, but I've been laying down for the better part of the past 3 days. I have the flu or something. I kind of hope its the swine flu because that is the cool thing these days, who really cares about the plain old flu anymore? I just need to describe the scene in our apartment today.

I stumbled home from work to go back to bed and found that Linx was still in bed. She began fake moaning and telling me that I killed her. We both went to sleep. I woke up a couple of hours later to Linx coming home. She informed me that SAC had called her for a ride because at physical therapy something in her back "popped" and she can't walk anymore. Linx crawled back into bed. So, for a couple of hours all three of us layed in bed, dead for all intents and purposes. We are falling apart. Then SAC just came up to the loft and slowly walked laps...she is a grandma.

Living with the "Hard Core Boss"

You know how people think they know people, but they don't? Almost daily I observe how people react to me or my friends and I hear Jacque Redd in my head saying "You don't know me" or Anna saying "I don't know your life girl!". I am probably the worst at this, I am the worst judge of character. If I dislike you the first time we meet then we will probably end up being best friends.

The reason I've been thinking about this lately is because my dearest friend Linx has moved up to Utah and established some sort of new persona. Everyone always talks about how you can "be whoever you want to be" when you go to a new place and she is living it up. Everyone remembers her because she has a faux hawk, wears leather, and her "name" is Linx. They think she is some sort of punk rocker who lives life on the edge and is a partier 24/7. While I know these things to be part of her personality I also grew up in a ballet studio with her and spent the weekends with her shopping at Limited Too and playing "Categories" in the pool(how that is an acceptable name for such a great game is another blog post).

The point is that the best kind of people have so many sides to there personality that you could never really understand them unless you spent every waking moment, or sleeping moment for that matter, with them. I will venture to say that I have spent more time with Linx than any other friend I have and still there are parts of her that I never knew existed. Here is what I have discovered since she moved in.

1. Linx is European; she thinks that nothing needs to be refridgerated. Exhibit A. her juice that was quickly turned into wine. Also on this shelf, but not visible in this picture, was a sliced tomato.2. She winds up the cord on my blowdryer in the most inefficient way possible even though I yelled at her.
3. Forget cookies in bed, Linx does full-blown meals in bed. This picture however BLEW MY MIND. She had taken the time to make her bed, then took the bag of chips that she had been eating in bed, neatly rolled them up, and then situated them in there as if the bag was a pillow or a teddy bear.
4. For months now Linx has been running around our apartment complex using other people's printers because "something was wrong with hers" and she didn't have a UVU id card to use their printers. Then last night when Rob needs a printer, she tries to fix hers and it took, oh 30 seconds. And no worries, she finally got an id card too.
5. We all know what this is, bowls of food left out. However, with Linx it isn't just a haphazard thing, they are neatly placed against a wall. The walls of our loft will be lined with bowls, or my personal favorite, cups of 2-week-old juice. The best part of this is that when Linx finally notices said juice she starts freaking out at it as if somehow it snuck up there by itself. I'm sitting here staring at the bowls waiting for her to find them.

You know what goes well with a donut?

How do I even explain my Halloween? It was amazing. On Friday evening I went with the girls to watch Anna's brother's concert. They just started a hip hop group, Can't Stop Won't Stop, and I can't help myself but to love them. The dancer inside of me just loves the beat of some good hip hop. Because we were going to Anna's friend, Amber's, party after the concert we were already dressed up. Anna reminded us all of her incredible knowledge of the 70's and 80's with her hilarious rendition of Ziggy Stardust. I just wanted to keep yelling out "It's David!" like when David Bowie shows up to judge the walk-off in Zoolander.After a great dance party at Amber's that night I was excited with the prospect of a couple of dance parties on Halloween night. The parties themselves were nothing too amazing so I won't get into details, but my company could not have been better. The night started when the boys hopped in the car and Cody asked me when I had woken up that morning. I shamefully answered noon, thinking that since we had been up late the night before he knew I had slept in and wanted to make me look lazy. I was mistaken. Instead his response was..."Did you have BREAKFAST!!!!!!!!?????"

Dave as Lucky Charms. Cody as 2% Milk. Cory as the Banana.
The night continued with as many breakfast jokes as possible, as well as numerous pick up lines involving what goes well with milk. Sadly Cody never found a girl dressed as a cookie or his real dream, a t-bone steak.
Cory also provided endless entertainment by dancing on cars and running through the street. Apparently he didn't realize just how high cut the back of his costume was, but it was very entertaining for the rest of us. Liz and I were birds. An owl and a peakcock. Somehow I don't have a picture of Rachel but she was there!

My Parents, the English Majors

So the other night my Dad texted me. Two things to know before you read the text:
1. Despite many attempts to text my father, he has NEVER texted me in my life.
2. I hadn't spoken to him in about 5 days when I got this.

Expecting a response from my roommates whom I had just texted I open my phone to see a text message from Dad. It reads:

"Hi im suns game gin w ty B and b at U TWO"

Now this may take a while for most of you to decipher, but not me. It appears that my parents are more alike than I ever knew. This kind of cryptic writing using letters for names and few transition words is how my mom writes letters. Any Baird who is trained in reading my mom's weekly emails understands this sentence perfectly. The ridiculous part is that WHAT THE HECK, WHY DID HE TEXT ME THAT? It's not like I had tried to reach him and he was letting me know where everyone was. It's as if he is texting me his facebook or twitter status completely out of the blue! Now, if the point was to make me jealous of what everyone was doing, then mission accomplished Dad.

Linx and I were in tears from laughter, but after regaining composure I decided to text him back. No response.

Dad, if you are reading this, thanks for the text. I'm very excited that you have developed these skills. Now let's work on opening and responding to messages that I send you! Same to you Mom. Side note: Mom used to send me texts that were all one word, but she has learned how to space!!!

I'm DYING

So in the past two weeks I have acquired a lovely set of bruises on my right leg. Big deal right? Well I have been FREAKING out because I never bruise. All of my life I have been upset that my body wouldn't produce "battle wounds". At dance everyone's knees would be covered with bruises, except for me, making it appear that I wasn't working as hard. The weirdest part about these bruises is that I don't remember hurting myself in any way.

After realizing that the bruises seemed to appear in the mornings I confronted Linx about the possibility of her beating me in my sleep. I never received a straight up denial, but she quickly went to the internet to find out what was wrong with me. Cover up? I think yes. I was quickly diagnosed with anemia and some other disease that I can't remember. However, I still had my suspicions about my new sketchy room mate.

The next night I had a nightmare: I had just returned to my house in AZ, it was empty, but a crazy killer was trying to get in and kill me. Before I could lock all the doors and set the alarm the killer finds a door that I missed and gets in the house. This is a recurring dream, but never before has the killer been the one and only LINX! I ran to my neighbor's house and hid in their garage. My neighbor, trying to protect me, ran out to the driveway and started yelling at Linx: "What do you want from her!?" Linx's response: "Well I guess I'll just take twenty bucks."

SERIOUSLY?!

My doctor, Brittany, has confirmed that either I have leukemia or that Linx is beating me in my sleep. Upon confronting her on the subject again she said she would take $20 for each bruise-free night.

Where do all the pregnant women hang out?

So even though at the moment BYU is being dumb and not letting me double major-I will fight them-I am still on the email list for the School of Family Life. Yesterday I received this email regarding a thesis project:

"Good morning SFL Students! My name is Tianna Watson and I'm a grad student in the Nutritional Sciences program."

My first thought was, "well, hello Tianna, why are you emailing the SFL people if you are in Nutritional Sciences?" My question was immediately answered with the next line:

"I am currently trying to recruit pregnant women for my thesis project."

I just about died laughing...I love Home and Family Living.

Ostracized in Style

For those of you who are dedicated blog readers you will remember by post "I Sleep in a Drawer" over the summer. After I posted that I realized that many of my family members read my blog...it caused quite an uproar. Did my powerful rhetoric do its job?

Last Sunday I got a message from my mother offering me a hotel room for Thanksgiving.

Each time I tell someone about this they think my family is crazy. Let me explain. My parents often get a room at Orange Tree which is literally a block away. Andrew and Courtney want to stay at our house so they can put their kids to bed and still hang out with everyone. Therefore, Dayne and Myhoa "get" the hotel room, which everyone thought they liked. FALSE. They want to be at the house with everyone. Our family just loves each other so much. Therefore, I will not get a bed since there are only two at home. Since we already had a hotel room reserved, it was offered to me. I actually feel fine about this, let's be honest I will probably like everyone a lot more that whole week if I get to sleep in everyday. The only thing holding me back is that I just feel like it is weird! I left the decision in my parents hands.

As I was explaining this dilemma to SAC all she could say to me was "you are still being ostracized". I'm going to choose to ignore this half glass empty outlook on life.

Rejected...Pub-lic-ly Humilated

Every trip I go on is defined by it's own set of music, inside jokes, and quotes. Many of these things are in fact not new, but somehow find new meaning in a new place. Australia produced many of these experiences. To Liz's disgust/secret enjoyment, each day something would occur that left Linx or myself to have no response but to say "Rejected". Because Linx and I are childhood friends, we are bonded together by our childish personalities. Thus, the word "Rejected" ALWAYS resulted in singing at least the first verse of "Gaston" from Beauty and the Beast. Brittany, you know.

Since returning to BYU I have been flooded with rejections. In the past week I have been rejected by a couple of jobs and ditched by both of my Visiting Teachees. To this I smile and proceed to get lost in the ingenious lyrics of Disney.

Jj

I started this post while sitting outside waiting for the Joshua James concert on Friday. Liz has a newly acquired ipod Touch and she now claims that the only reason i hang out with her is to use it. Give me a break, I haven't had an ipod since that fateful night I went 80's dancing in January and the new technology is AMAZING. Anyways, I couldn't figure out how to type anything but the title of this blog, so by "started" I mean, I typed the title.

I first saw Joshua my Sophmore year at Velour in Provo. A few friends were going so I tagged along. The concert was seated and I was on the aisle. Joshua decided to surprise everyone by coming from behind everyone playing his guitar. Since I was in the very back on the aisle he scared the CRAP out of me. He then proceeded to very passionately sing this song about how he didn't need God's restitution and was getting all up in people's faces. Questions were flooding my mind. "Who is this guy?" and "Why did my friends want to come to this?" However, things went up after that first song, they could only go up, but they went way up. I loved it.

I have since missed a couple of his concerts so I couldn't pass this one up. He did an acoustic concert Friday night and full band on Saturday night. It was well worth sitting in line for 2 hours. He is what I can only describe as a freak show but he is so passionate and I loved it! The performance never lets me down.

Jinx

This is why living with Linx is amazing:
The other day I walk into our room. Linx is laying in her bed eating chips and salsa and listening to "Let's Get It On".
The combination of those things is absolutely amazing, and who eats chips and salsa in bed? As if there isn't an entire apartment available for her use.

I'll be holding a red rose

Welp. Back to school. I feel like I am at a different school this year. Why? I'm in art classes which are a comPLETEly different ball game. Crazy long classes that are actually fun. Linx is here which makes me feel like I'm at home. Also, I am a Senior? Technically I've already been one for a while and unfortunately I will continue to be one for a while so its not that exciting, but I feel old. There are so many fetuses running around this school and I can spot them a mile away. It is hilarious to me how many people are on this campus the first week of school. It really does feel like 30,000+ people and their babies. It is a bit overwhelming but I keep reminding myself that in another week the slackers won't go to class, the overacheivers will be camping out in the library, and the rest of us will have free reign of Provo.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the BYU Book Exchange let me explain the situation. BYU has set up a website where you can post books for sale and then search for books you want to buy, a Craig's List of sorts. I have a bunch of books that I wanted to keep so I didn't sell them back to the bookstore, but desperate times have forced me to sell them. This is probably for the best because realistically I would never use them again. Anyways, I posted them on the Book Exchange. The best part of this situation is not the money, but the completely awkward phone calls and meetings that follow. In the past I have had to call to buy books from others. I swear that every time I've done this the seller is named Alex or some other name that gives me no idea of their gender until I am surprised by their voice. Once we get past the weirdness of figuring out why one is calling, the meeting is set up. These are eerily similar to meeting a blind date at a random location. You try to describe yourself or what you will be wearing. On Monday I had three "dates" set up. I was selling off my HFL books so they were all girls. This time I just went with the classic "I will be holding the book". However, each time I just wanted to be Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail with a book AND a rose. Once we find each other there is this awkward small talk about the class, the book, etc. and then some goodbye that is like: "Enjoy the class" which really means, "Welp, I'll never see you again!" However, this was not the case on Monday. After I sold my first book I immediately met the next buyer and in the middle of our exchange my first date walked by, I felt like I had cheated on her...

I'd like to thank the book exchange for all the awkward conversations and encounters it has provided me with.

Frenchie...For REAL!

After essentially living Friday twice without sleeping(there were just too many movies to watch on the plane), I just crawled out of the depths of a short 45 minute nap. Maybe I will write more specifically about my trip later, but let me just say that it was, in fact, as great as I had thought it would be.
Rarely did I feel like I was in a foreign country, except for the occasional outrageously strong accent that I couldn't understand. Oh, and learning to walk and drive on the left side, Beyonce-style as we called it.
Besides the natural beauty and the architectural "wonderlands", Australia was awesome just because of the people that I met. I expect none of you to ever stay in the kind of sketchy places that I did for $15 a night. Therefore, you will just have to trust me when I tell you that while the smell of these places will stay with you for days and contracting diseases is always an option, it is worth it just to meet CRAZY people. Everyone has some ridiculous story and none of these people have any real responsibilities or direction in life. We were in fact the only people who where in Australia for less than a year and probably the only people going to school. It also helped that everyone we met somehow reminded us of a celebrity: Heath(Heaf), Johnny, Hermione, and others that I forget because I'm only half alive.
I will also always love Australia for the food I was introduced to. Namely the Aussie burger-with egg and beet, and chicken salt-which proved to be very difficult to explain at security in LA.
My brain is no longer working, but I'm back and you should all go to Australia!

"I think that guy just dropped off his girlfriend"

In just over an hour I will be heading off to the airport. Am I excited? Absolutely. But really I'm just sick of talking about it and I'm ready to be there already!!!! If I am asked one more time if I have seen the movie "Taken" I'll flip out...I promise not to be an idiot, thank you. I'm also feeling a little sad about leaving AZ since when I return from Australia I'll only be here for about a day and a half before heading up to Utah.

There is just something about Arizona that I love and I can't explain it...it is just a part of my soul. I was hesitant about four months at home but it has seriously been SUCH A GOOD TIME! Weekend trips, water and bathing suits, redeeming my status as the favorite aunt, playing in the rain, mixed drinks from QT, seeing at least 2 movies every week, dominating in Carumba and getting my butt kicked at Monopoly and Clue, ridiculous old people at church, getting sunburned in the car, and the "summer nights" are just some of the things I will miss. I'll probably even miss those moments on Sunday with the fam that were so chaotic that I had to go sit alone in my room for a few minutes to recover.

Earlier this week Linx shared a philosophy on life with me. As she said: "Isn't the point of life to make as much money, in the least amount of time, in order to have fun with that money the rest of the time?" Really Linx? The point of life?! I nearly died laughing. However, the point of my life is to enjoy it so much that it is bittersweet every time I move on to the next chapter. I have succeeded again. In the meantime I will be having fun with my money in Australia!!!! G'day!

"I blew up in Chad's face again"

Things that make me blow up:
1. Being awoken at any time that is unacceptable, which is almost all the time.
2. Sewing machines.
3. The internet.

This third one was what did it today. The internet at home hates me, so...Here I am at Fry's using the free Wifi, thank you Uncle Steve for finding this gem and saving me. The "crisis" is that I have to mail in 3 projects for my internship class tomorrow and my pictures were locked away in an email. So here I am blogging, instead of doing homework. It is very possible that I will be up until the wee hours of the morning. I have had 3 months to do these projects, but really, everyone knows my projects require all-nighters.

The real reason for this post is that I'm just really excited about some pictures. A couple of weekends ago SAC took a bunch of us to the lake. I thought this may never happen due to her crippled state, but a bunch of friends came down from Provo and we all know a trip to the lake is imperative for giving visitors a good time in AZ in July.

As usual, the skills of the Judge's tube driving were talked up a lot beforehand. I don't think our friends understood just how great he is until Linx and I did a demonstration:

I love the lake, I love the summer, and I love thinking that I might die on a tube, with a best friend.

"I Sleep In a Drawer"

This weekend I spent another fantastic time at Snowflake with the fam. Good food, weather that allowed me to spend tons of time outside without thinking I would die, bike rides, reading, movies, naps, and of course a rodeo. However, events transpired that have left me to ponder my status in the family. After reflecting on years of family vacations, I have come to realize that in the past decade an elitist group of married people has infiltrated my family. Not only is my parents home becoming a shrine to these happy couples and their wedding days, but I fear that I may never have a good nights sleep again when on vacation with them. Every member of this group seems to be allergic to air mattresses, the floor, twin beds, "common areas", and children that aren't theirs. I would also like to have a medical reason to avoid these things.

My first memory of "sleep abuse" is at my grandparents house in Draper when Andrew was wisely joining the married people. Brittany and I had to sleep on the pull out bed in the main room, meaning we were awoken bright and early with the children. After the first night we got smart and resorted to our only other option, sharing a twin bed upstairs. It only took Brittany 5 months to join the married people.

The next summer we all went to Carlsbad. I slept on the floor, under a table. Nobody was comfortable that trip, but really? Under a table!?

Then we have the next summer in Newport. There happened to be just the right amount of bedrooms for the married people. After one night of sleeping on the pull out bed that was previously owned by a chain smoker, Gabe and I opted to share an air mattress in the family room. He hit me countless times in his sleep and woke up horrendously early.

When Brittany, Andrew, and their spouses graduated from college I managed to get my own room at "The Castle Inn". I'm still unsure how this happened and I will forever be grateful. But don't worry, it was the only one on the main floor, so I still got to wake up with the kids!

Park city the summer before my freshman year...pull out bed.

Now we come to Dayne's wedding in Florida. I would like to point out that Dayne had been M.I.A. at family vacations for a few years...I think he caught on to the "group" situation. Again, I will say that not everyone was very comfortable because there seemed to be no blinds or shutters on the windows(sorry Brit), but I had no room. So, this time I got creative and set up camp in my parents walk-in closet. I think everyone thought I was kidding at first. It was actually a pretty good situation because it was so dark, but of course I got an air mattress with a hole in it so it was more like sleeping on a layer of plastic.

In Williamsburg this Christmas I got lucky again. Missy and Will's family couldn't come so my parents decided to cancel our other room, but it was too late or something so I ended up with my own room! Note that this was only by default and a room would never be reserved for me, but still awesome. However, due to the aforementioned allergy of twin beds(push them together people), I had to take the room with twin beds that was directly next to the kitchen/family room. Again, waking up with the kids at seven. Oh, and lets not forget that I had the bathroom that everyone used when they were downstairs, which Brandon was quickly banned from using.

Now we get to this weekend. I took my usual bedroom, the one with the twin bed. The main issue with this room is that in order to get to it I have to walk through my parents room and in order to use their bathroom they have to walk through my room, enough said. The cherry on top this weekend is that I got to share the room with Milly and no matter how cute she is she still wakes up at 6:30 or 7, not counting the dozen other times during the night.

Thank you for listening to my rant. My family is awesome and I love our vacations, but things might be a little more pleasant if everyone else realized that 9 is a normal time to wake up. My parents are amazing for providing places for all of us to stay, but I dream of a day that I can make all of the married people sleep on the floor, under a table, with all ten of my children. Sweet dreams.

Give me the Green Light

This post starts over a month ago when I was innocently driving home from my first ballet class of the summer. There is no easy way to say this, I ran I red light, and of course it was one of the few with a camera. I was emotionally unaffected by this. In fact, I was on the phone with Brittany, and calmly allowed her to finish whatever she was talking about and then added in a "by they way, I got flashed at a red light a little bit ago." However, while I had been listening(very intently) to her, the other part of my brain had been quickly running through what my emotions should be. First, and most importantly, I was robbed! Of course there is no way that this was actually my fault. Something was wrong with the machine, that yellow light was the shortest thing of my life, etc. *Note: I really did think these things which is vital at the end of my story. Secondly, whatever, it will just cost some money, no use in crying over spilt milk. Thirdly, almost everyone in my family, except for my mom, has been flashed while driving the Envoy, and no one has ever paid because it is under my mom's name....there must be a way out of this. Like clockwork, my dad began plotting before I even finished telling him what happened. When this gem showed up in the mail for my mom:
He decided the best route was to ignore it and wait to be served. Of course he also commented on the fact that I was on the phone, classic.
Since my mom is the only one that is ever home, I used knowledge gained during my days as a latch-key-kid to show her how to maneuver carefully through the dining room without being seen, to see who was at the door. The first time she tried to elude the potential process server, the missionaries were waiting at the door.
On my way to work on Monday JohnJay announced on the radio that he had received a letter in the mail that his red light ticket had been waived due to a problem with the machine. He then announced the crossroads, they were exactly my own!!! Could it be!? As soon as I got to my computer I found this article in the newspaper http://www.azcentral.com/php-bin/clicktrack/email.php/8817428. VINDICATED. For a month the yellow light had been set for too short of a time(i KNEW it) and thousands are getting their money back. Meaning for those of us that just ignored it, we can stop living in fear. This kind of thing never happens...but it happened to me. And the clean record lives on!

"Do you want your animals?"

This blog is dedicated to animals, none of them normal. Lately animals have been very prominent, and then Liz, fellow animal non-enthusiast blogged about her beloved bug. Something has also happened to me and animals are slowly breaking through my stone heart.
#1a. Charlie the goldfish. I owe this one to Amber Moyes who asked me to babysit her goldfish, and never took him back. Little did I know that she had been attempting to kill him softly for years by filling his bowl with normal, chlorinated water, with no side affects. I cried all day at school in 3rd grade when I thought he died. Only to return home and be informed that he had been sleeping. Who knew fish slept? But soon enough I hated him because he would NEVER die. I think he was like 8 or so when he finally died. His body was transparent, no longer gold. Not even Cory the fish will break this record.
#2b. Mo. Officially Mo Fro Joe BoBo CoCo NoNo-that is a little look inside my elementary school brain. He lived through countless jail breaks, one of which ended when Brittany found the cat walking around with him in his mouth. But this was not the end for Mo. Nor was it the time I found him stuck in a paper towel roll. He died on Christmas of unknown causes. He was only 3.
#3c. Scamper. His lip would get stuck on his tooth so he looked like Elvis. Unknown liquid would drip from his face, snot? drool?, leaving behind a small puddle whereever he went. He would randomly run through the house at high speeds. He died, also on Christmas, at the age of like 18 or something. He was a rock star and my dad gave an amazing eulogy.
#4d. Binky. Enough said. More to come in his obituary which will hopefully not be for many years to come.

#5e. Who can forget the animal sacrifice of 2008. We found this in our yard one morning: Charred body of some sort of racoon-like animal tied to two rocks with rope. Here is a picture after the body was removed. I would give anything to know the story behind this.#6f. Foxy. Foxy has forever changed my perception of dogs. I'd like to thank Danny for the opportunity to walk dogs at his clinic. The perfect scenario, short 10 minute walks, give them back when you are done, no strings attached. Foxy was everything that I hate. Dog, small, rat-like. But we fell in love in the short 10 minutes we had together. Since I didn't think to check the name on his kennel he was called foxy, because he legit looks like a fox. Sadly I don't have access to pictures of the two of us.

#7g. And most recently. The other night JEB was up late and heard something banging several times on the closed kitty door. He assumed that someone had locked Binky out so he opened it up to let him in. Binky didn't enter and didn't respond when he was called...strange. So he opened the back door and what is standing by the cat door staring at him? A racoon. Ridiculous. Has he been here before? What would have happened if the cat door had been open? I now have images of this racoon lounging around our house while we're on vacation, watching t.v. and snacking on cheetos.

Emphasis on the SICK

I was at SJ's the other night when I was presented with a new tastey treat, the Pickle Sickle. Somehow they knew I would try it. As if this idea isn't disgusting enough, this particular Sickle had a dash of Jalapeno added. In this case, a picture is worth a thousand words. SAC saw how much I loved it and demanded to have some herself.
A quick Google search provides the background of this ridiculousness: Texas. Am I in any way surprised? No. http://www.bobspicklepop.com/

Every one has quirks, hers are just physical....and mental

I'd like to start out with, curse you Linx. She is the reason I haven't blogged about my birthday. I was waiting to get photographic evidence from her, but it looks like this will never happen. The written word with have to suffice. For those of you who forgot(Liz), I turned the oh so exciting age of 21 on June 3rd. We'll fast forward through the day where I had to work and get on with the festivities.
SJ, SAC, Linx, and I went out to dinner at our "secret" location, Grimaldi's in Old Town.
1. Our pizza was topped with ricotta cheese, meatballs, and sweet peppers. Weirdly amazing.
2. We people watched. A couple on a first date. Always enjoyable. Talking non-stop, overly "excited" about everything the other had to say. Generally a great specimen.
3. We were people watched. My cake had no candle so SJ found it only appropriate to create flames with her hand so I could still receive my birthday wish(it's going to be a crazy year). One lady in particular found us very strange.
4. Ridiculous conversation. Including the quote that is this blog title. Any guesses as to who SJ was talking about?
After dinner we found it only appropriate to let a psychic(we argued about the spelling of that word for a good 2 minutes) tell me what the rest of my life holds. Don't get too excited though, as we were in Scottsdale, we quickly realized that the woman lounging on her white couch was going to charge me more than my palm is worth. This led to the only other logical thing to do: Pimp cup. As much as I hate Walmart, it is often the only place open with exactly what I need. In this case, an extra-large beer mug. As we proceeded to check out, the very intelligent cashier asked to see my i.d. I was happy to show it to her. What was a buying? A mug and 2 liters of ginger ale, with cash. I'm not sure what tipped her off that the i.d. was necessary for this purchase, but I would like to thank her for giving me the opportunity to prove my age on the very eve of my birthday. The rest of the night was spent bedazzling mugs with rhinestones that were ripped off of my jazz costume, and mixing fake mojitos, or as SAC called it "fruit salad in a glass". Thank you ladies for a fantastic night.
Friday was my family celebration, along with appearances from SAC and SJ. To make this short and sweet. Grills(that's Gabe-language for girls) lunch, overpriced cupcakes at Sprinkles(it's all about the experience), Beauty and the Beast, a nap, barbecue, and swimming, which included the traditional intense game of HORSE. I'm probably forgetting something. A lot happened and it was a good time. One year older. I feel not a day over 15.

Oooooohhhh! We're halfway there!!!

Warning: The purpose of this blog is to complain. What you are about to read is a rant. Not only is my mom sick of hearing me whine, but she is out of town and her phone is off(ignoring me?) so here we are. First, I would like to remind everyone that I am a good student. I generally go to class and do my work. However, this internship class that I am in is currently the bane of my existence.
Let's begin from the beginning. I'm working at an interior design showroom in Scottsdale this summer, a pretty sweet deal. While I knew that associating this with school would ruin my life, I need the school credit; considering that I'm a senior and just decided to double major(another way to say I was 6 credits away from finishing one major when I changed my mind), I have no time to waste. So 3 credits over a 4-month time period is easy, right? FALSE. Since I have a scholarship, further proof that I was a good student, I have to be taking at least 6 credits to get the free money. Okay, so 6 Spring and 6 Summer. Again, FALSE. I can only get a max of 9 credits for the internship. Okay, so 6 Spring or 6 Summer. Again, FALSE. I am "required" by Roberta, the internship coordinator, to do the internship both Spring and Summer terms and therefore must be able to access Blackboard all 4 months, meaning I must be registered for class. The result: I am taking 7 credits. 6 Spring, using scholarship money, and 1 Summer, which I have to pay for just so I can get on Blackboard. Summary: I am taking an extra unnecessary 4 credits all to save $400. Worth it: Yes. I'm going to Australia.
The real issue here is the class itself. I can't handle it. Stupid, pointless, ridiculous, unnecessary, dumb, retarded, idiotic busy work, and I'm over it!!! I was over it since the first week. I won't even get into the details but basically we just have to write excessively about emotions, learning, growth, and work relationships. The result: I don't do anything. I hate it so much that I continue to forget to do anything and I don't care. Roberta takes this very seriously, good for her, but I cannot wait to be done with this. Also, let us take into account that it is summer, its an online class, and I'm working, so making this a priority is bound to be difficult, even if it interested me in the least.
Not to worry though. We are on the downward slope. After completing my homework tonight, a day early, I have officially completed 7 of 14 weeks of hell. HALFWAY THERE! This realization led me to a little youtubing of Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer. Thank you D-Brown for teaching me that youtube can enhance any experience. The hair and leather fringe jackets in that video will not disappoint!

"Basically it's a bunch of hippies"

BAM
Recently I've been trying to pack in a lot of cultural/educational experiences. Why?
1a. I'm spending a lot of time with my parents
2b. I want to know stuff...stuff about life and the places I live
3c. I don't have access to rock band
4d. I'm starting my new life as a pseudo artist


Our journey starts at the Botanical Gardens. Like so many places, I've somehow never been here in my 21 years of existence in Arizona. This probably has something to do with the fact that for about 19 of those years I thought the desert was ugly. I would now like to retract that feeling along with the negative feelings I had towards mushrooms, shrimp, and crust. Anyways, Chihuly, a glass blowing genius, had an exhibit there for the past few months. Of course I hit it up the last weekend possible. I don't have much to say about this except for...awesome. "This boat is REAL"

Yesterday Mom and I took a little trip up to Arcosanti. Again, I have driven past this place on the way to Flagstaff maybe 100 times in my life and had no idea. Thank you History of Modern Architecture at BYU for bringing us together. Basically this Italian, Paolo Soleri, envisions cities using up a ridiculously small amount of space. Skyscrapers for housing and then everything else you would ever need packed in around it. No cars, he hates those, and everyone lives as a big happy family. Very eco-friendly, all sorts of ideas about farming, using greenhouses for energy, etc. We won't get into the boring details, but it is a cool idea. The problem being that the way this thing is being built is that people pay to do a workshop there and they build it. Upon asking Will what it was he said: "Basically a bunch of hippies that drew up plans for a city and get people to buy bells they make to pay for it." Couldn't have said it better(they make really cool bells). So in the past 38 years they have built 4, maybe 5, buildings. If you have a few million dollars hanging around, please help them out...this thing will never be completed.
This place is eerily similar to a city out of Star Wars. The best part was eating lunch with the hippies. So much long curly hair, birkenstocks, and lightweight cargo pants.

I'm Back!!!!!

I originally created this blog simply for the purposes of keeping everyone updated on my life in Italy. However, 6 months later I realized that I haven't written in my journal or documented my life in any way since. Also, SJ just introduced me to http://www.blurb.com/ where you can make your blogs into books. I love it! Anyways. I don't expect anyone to read this, except maybe Liz, "Hi Liz!", but now my life will be documented, which is like a commandment or something. Updates will be coming shortly!