And who says the movies aren't real life?

Last weekend my roommate and I got sucked into one of the worst films ever made: 

Twilight. 

Specifically the second one. 

I know. But it was on TV, we were super tired, and suddenly there we were: watching it. Dying just a little more on the inside every time Kristen Stewart opens her mouth to say something. I will even admit to DVRing the entire thing so we could fast forward through the commercials. This, however, had its advantages when Jacob so gallantly swoops in and saves Bella from that nasty cut on her head by ripping his shirt off and dabbing her forehead. Because we were so prepared, this meant we could laugh over and over and over again every time we played that scene. Best worst thing I've ever seen. :)

She's so dumb. And the movie is horrendous. Have I mentioned that yet? 

This particular scene was somewhat funny at the time, but only marginally so, and we didn't go back to watch it again like the aforementioned scene. But if only I had known the real-life application I was about to encounter the following week...

As I innocently perused some photos today in search of something particular so as to prove a point in a contest of opinions I was having with a friend., I cam across this gem and maybe I peed a little. So it's at a ward activity, and is not entirely what it looks like, but...

GUYS. We clearly don't give Hollywood enough credit. 

I realize how stunning I look in this picture. Let's ignore my facial expression, and focus on the comic relief of the moment.  They even both look a little like vampires with their red eye. I, however, am an infinitely better actress than lame-face Bella. Just for the record. But that's because I can do that with my face, and she...can't. 

Last November I found something to be grateful for every day, and it was kind of great. This November (though it may be a day late) I'll try to do that again, but I feel like this can count for two things because...hey, there are two pictures here, AND a horrible movie clip. 

And who isn't grateful for that kind of goodness? 

Happy freakin' Friday. 

Dinner-in-a-pumpkin. Or Jack-o-lantern innards. Or Pumpkin Dinner. Whatever you want to call it. I'm drooling just thinking about it...

Yesterday, I finally got to make my favorite fall meal. My grandma is the one I credit this culinary masterpiece GOODNESS with, but it has since become a favorite in my family, and I've done my utmost to bring every roommate I've ever had over to the enlightened side. 

So now, in celebration of my happiness of yesterday, here's a little food story. With instructions for creation, if desired. Also, we watched Pirates of Penzance while we waited and I'm positively positive that only added to my sheer joy. Kevin Kline is my all-time favorite, and Gilbert & Sullivan are genius in comic opera form. Don't knock it 'til you try it, and be prepared to listen and laugh, laugh, laugh. Here's a tiny clip for you:

Okay, moving on to pumpkin dinner goodness. 

How to partake of fall goodness, pre-Pilgrims and Indians style:

Purchase a pumpkin about the size of the bowl you would use to serve however many you're serving. To serve four of us last night, I bought one about the size of a child's bowling ball, and we had some leftovers. Just remember, the bigger the pumpkin, the longer it will have to cook. 

Wash off the pumpkin and put it in a preheated oven at 450. You'll cut it open and clean it out pretty soon, but not yet. 

Meanwhile, cook a package of hamburger (or turkey burger) and simultaneously put about two cups of rice on to cook. 

Add onions, celery salt, and onion powder to the meat while it's cooking. You can add garlic in as well unless you're completely opposed. I have used dehydrated onions and fresh onions, and both are just as good. As soon as the meat starts to brown, lightly cover the meat in Worcestershire sauce, and allow it to keep cooking, turning the heat down lower so it will take in the flavor a little more as it cooks. After the heat is lower, put about 2T of brown sugar in the meat and mix it in. A dash of sage is also REALLY good in this, I just usually don't have it on hand, but it's SO good. If you haven't caught on by now, the meat is the focus here. Get as much fall flavor in there as possible, and let it simmer. If you cook it too high, the sugar will start for form a sort of sticky syrup and that's going a little far. If it's too thick, add more Worcestershire sauce, and if it's too liquidy, let it cook out a bit. 

At this point, pull the pumpkin out of the oven, and carefully (with a hot pad on the stem) cut it open and hollow it out. You can hollow it out before you start cooking it, but I've found this way to be easier to clean it out and keep it cooking while you prepare all the other ingredients. Your end goal with this pumpkin is to have it completely cooked through so the sides will scrape out with the rice mixture in the end. 

Combine the meat and rice in a bowl with two cans of Cream of Mushroom soup and 3-4 cups of shredded cheese. (I've used all cheddar before, but half cheddar, half smoked gouda is to DIE for.) The cheese is your choice. Combine everything together, and scoop as much as possible into the pumpkin. Don't be afraid to fill it all the way to the top. Put the pumpkin lid back on, and put the whole thing back in the oven. 

The oven should still be at 450 at this point, but depending on your oven, you'll want to watch it and turn it down if necessary. It should cook like this for about 60-80 minutes. About halfway through, I usually turn the oven down to 350, especially if the top is burning. It's just fine for the outside of the pumpkin to get pretty dark. 

I'll check on it every 30 min or so and just poke it with a fork to assess the done-ness of the pumpkin. :) Once it's done, take it out, and carefully cut a jack-o-lantern face in the skin of the pumpkin. (it should peel off easily by now) Put the finished product on a serving plate/platter, and voila! Culinary masterpiece!

Serve with salt and pepper, and even though it might sound weird, MAPLE SYRUP. Trust me on this one, especially if you like sweet and salty combos. It's to die for. When you scoop the rice/hamburger mixture out of the pumpkin, make sure to scrape pumpkin out with it. That's the whole point. 

Once you're done eating all this fall goodness, if you happen to have leftovers, just peel the skin off the pumpkin and thank yourself the next day when you have the most delicious leftovers before Thanksgiving. Ever. 

The end. And you're welcome. Also, I'm sorry I cook this way and the recipe below is somewhat less than specific. But that's part of the adventure here...make it the way you like it. That way you can't tell me it's too salty or too sweet. You have to taste as you go. It's basically required.

1 child-sized bowling ball pumpkin

2 cups cooked rice

1 package hamburger or turkey burger

2 cans cream of mushroom soup

2-4 cups of cheddar/smoked gouda cheese

Worcestershire Sauce

2 T brown sugar

celery salt

Onions (dehydrated or fresh minced)

onion powder

salt and pepper

maple syrup

1 knife for cutting and slicing and playing Joker on the pumpkin

1 spoon for scraping out innards. 

Yes, this is how I come back after almost two months of blogger silence.

Pardon my rant. 

"Hi, boys! I'm best friend girl. Talk to me about anything and everything. But most of all, please. Constantly ask me to set you up with my beautiful friends."

REALLY?

I think I'm flattered on some level that you think I'm approachable enough to ask me for...a date with my friend.

I think.

So until now, I've usually obliged to paving the way for guys who want a date with a friend of mine.
Unless I think it's the worst idea ever.
But at the end of the day, 90% of the time...why oh why does it bother me?

It has been bothering me that I can't figure out why it bothers me.
It's not like I necessarily want a date with you.
No, that's not it.
Though, let's be honest, if you'd ever asked, I probably would have gone on a date with you.
But instead, I just get to hear about all your dating woes.
Which is what friends do.
But HONESTLY.

Dudes, get a clue. If you want a date with a beautiful girl, man up and ask her for it yourself.

I am not your gateway to hot girl dates.

Eventually, I will phase you out if all you're doing is asking me for dates with my friends.
A) Because no self-respecting girl puts up with that for long.
and B) Because you're supposed to be the man.

If you don't have her number, but you find out about her by stalking her on the fb because we're in pictures together, I invite you to use the "message" feature so nicely built in to fb. Just a suggestion.

Don't put me in the middle of it.

And no. I don't think I care if she thinks you're a crazy stalker because you found her on facebook.

There's a strong possibility you're not the first guy to think she's attractive, nor will you be the last.

Eventually I'm gonna punch one of you and then feel really bad about it afterward.
Don't label me the crazy girl when it was your pansy approach to dating that got us here in the first place.
"Here" being the part where I punch you for being a moron.

Yeah, hitting publish now.
Because that's what normal, happy, well-adjusted folks do: rant on the blog, and then publish it.

Mmmm-hmmm.


Dude version:

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

Stop asking me to set you up with my friends or I will sucker-punch you.

cake. bites.

This girl needs to go grocery shopping.

Pretend you need proof, and behold: my breakfast this morning.

I know cake bites are not meant for breakfast. But I haaaaaaate grocery shopping...I just want to pay and watch all the healthy stuff appear in my cupboards. 

Then I'd GLADLY refrain from the cake bites. 

...at least for breakfast....

Friend Suggestions! Updates! Stay Connected!

Social Media is super helpful these days.

They give suggestions all the time.

I like suggestions.

Except when they tell me I should consider being friends with an ex-boyfriend.

That's a terrible suggestion.

Hi! You should request friendship with the guy who picked somebody else, or the guy who turned out to be a giant d-bag!!! WE THINK IT'S A GREAT IDEA!!

I'm pretty sure I can make that decision for myself...

And for the record, I am "friends" with certain ex-boyfriends.

Um...but...that doesn't mean I want/need to know every time they "like" Amazon, or...well...

So this came to my email this morning.

And this is how my brain translated it:

Social media needs relationship filters. 

And REALLY??? His face needed to be the big, top one????

Goo. 

I know. I could solve all of this by just disconnecting from said individuals on social media sites of all kinds.

That's not the point.

On the other hand, all the other people in this picture are wonderful and quite nice looking.

That's all. Carry on.

Oh. And sorry I said d-bag on my blog. 

Mountain Men and Gnomes

This is my mini-garden. Every summer I desperately want to plant stuff, and I either wait too long, or I kill what I do manage to plant because I forget about it. (Let's not make any parenting analogies here, okay?) But this summer, they're alive! They're living!

It's probably because of the gnome. He's the only new factor in this experiment, so I'm giving him all the credit.

Except let's just take a moment to thank me for watering everything obsessively. Pretty sure the gnome can't do that. 

My only downfall was planting my favorite, the cilantro, in a spot that apparently gets direct sunlight for much of the day. Crunchy, dry, dead cilantro. NOT okay. I cried one single solitary tear.

I'll go get a new cilantro plant soon...mostly because I wish every dish contained cilantro, and this is how I ensure I have a plentiful supply.

Meanwhile, the basil lives on and since this is my second favorite herb, I've managed to make it through my currently cilantro-less existence.

Moving on. Time for a little math:

DeeAura + any opportunity to bruise/scar = 

guaranteed SUCCESS

I never really was all that great at math, but that's not the point. The point is, it's time to be out in the sunshine, and that usually means it's hot, which will then consequently usually involve large bodies of water. Or at least a garden hose.

Exhibit A: Multi-ward giant water slide, fantastic hill, lots of mud, rocks at the bottom...of course we went multiple times.

And of course our legs all looked like crazy cats attacked them. Even our bishop (who is just plain crazy...and fantastic) got some sweet scars. But really - this picture may not show our shredded legs, but it's a true story.

So, of course, I gave those scars about a week to heal before I went out and wreaked any more havoc on my body.

Exhibit B: This would be the results of boating out on Utah Lake when the waves are so high we should've just been surfing: leg, meet water. SMACK. I hate tubing. I'd much rather wakeboard. 

I've never had a wakeboard throw me up in the air and slam me back to the water with quite that much gravitational rage.

If I see that tube again, it's dead to me.

That would be after a mere 24 hours. My ability to bruise is NOT conducive to swimsuit season.

I know. The fact I'm showing you this much of my leg is KILLING you right now.

so. entirely. gross.

I took last night off of life just to ice the monster on my leg.

...And watch numerous episodes of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman...

Sully has some terrible lines, but...I just...he's a mountain man. And apparently I think that's attractive.

Huh.

I'm embarrassed I like watching it so much. But I do. I just do.

Heinously predictable script aside.

Oh, and while I'm rambling on about stupid useless stuff:

Sometimes I think my next-door neighbor looks kind of like Sully, and I have a 30-second crush on him.
But then his girlfriend/wife (I haven't figured out which) comes riding up on her stupid scooter, and I remember he puts his hair in a ponytail and there's still a part of my brain awake enough to snap out of it.

Because this is real life. 

And in real life, I need to fold my last load of laundry.

And go running (as soon as the stupid bruise stops killing me). 

Because I still want to run this baby next weekend. Time will tell if my run-ins with nature will allow such insanity...

And remind myself it's only 53 days to Hawaii with these happy faces!

(Thanks, Bethany, for the picture. I obviously stole it from you.) :)

Note to self: never again plan your summer vacation for the absolute end of the summer.

All this waiting is not necessary.

And p.s. I really like my life right now. REALLY.

So this makes me a tiny bit nervous because that's usually about when things turn upside down and change.

There are possible changes on the horizon, and they're starting to freak me out.

I'm doing my best to ignore that feeling and just enjoy normalcy while it still exists.

So I refuse to write about them until they're real.

Because this blog is only for real stuff.

Like mountain men and gnomes.

The do-whatever-you-want Day

Saturday morning I woke up excited. Why?

Because there wasn't a THING I had to do that day. Not one single solitary duty.

* happy dance*

First things first: my roommate Whitney and I hiked the Y. I used to go almost every week last summer, but don't worry - I haven't done it since then. So why not start again, right?

Yeah, climbing up a mountain is kind of hard.

I swear it was easier last summer...so clearly I have to do it once a week until it doesn't make me want to die  at every other switchback. 

But there we are at the top! 

I love that view.

Luckily, Whit didn't have anything she had to do that day either, so what did we do the second we got home from the Y? 

Uh, Seven Peaks of course.

From running shorts to swimsuit in 0 to 60 seconds. 

Seriously though. Fastest change of my life!

For avid Seven Peak-ers, this isn't anything new, but the "Boomerang" is basically just a biiiiig wedgie slide. FYI.

But it's fine because you know EVERYONE is getting that same result, so it's actually that much more entertaining. :)

Then after hours and hours of summer sunshine, does it get better?

YES, my friends. It does.

Because afterward you get the best snow cone of your life because it's a bajillion degrees outside, and you eat it so fast you get a brain freeze, which causes you to neglect any desire you may have had previously to document such goodness.

But it was worth it.

The next entertaining part of the day happened when I went to the grocery store to grab a few necessities shortly thereafter.

In a shirt that apparently is the exact match for my phone cover...

Which two total strangers (both men) pointed out to me with big grins while I was still on the phone.

Embarrassing AND funny. 

Give strangers appropriate silent humor response, (as I am CLEARLY on the phone) shrug shoulders, grab cilantro, exit store.

Make mental note to separate wearing of said shirt and simultaneous act of talking on phone in public.

Moving on.

We ended the most perfect day of no responsibility by watching "The Wizard of Oz" at a local outdoor amphitheater done by a cast that was actually fun to watch!

Sometimes local community theater can be...er...cheesy and a bit empty, and can make me feel like dying on the inside, but this was actually well done, and I genuinely had a great time!

The Scarecrow was the best one, though. He was hysterical!

I wanted to watch it again.

They were just cute.

NOT as cute, however, as these two little girls next to us that I creepily captured oh my phone.

It might not look like it here since they're super involved at the moment, but they kept excitedly grinning at each other throughout the whole show. They LOVED it, and it just made me have an extra good time.

"The Wizard of Oz" was my faaaavorite movie as a little girl, so watching these two just took me back to playing pretend Oz with my friends.

...under which circumstances I was always Dorothy, of course.

Mom was the Wicked Witch of the West. By default. She always made us stop playing. Clearly type-casting.

Anyway.

Seriously so much fun!

Except for the dummy in the jeans behind us.

I wanted to smack him the whole time. 

But we don't talk about stupid people on happy days. :)

Especially when someone left their extra ticket at the box office, and they gave it to us for free so the whole experience was a whopping $5.

WIN. :)

Bowling-Biking League Extraordinaire

Prepare to be slammed with pure awesomeness.

...because a freezing cold DeeAura in a bike helmet meant for someone else is REALLY a sigh to behold.

Gross.

We DO look good, though.

Over Memorial Day weekend, (You're overcome with my prompt blogging now, I know. But we've discussed this mannny times.) most of my family and I went out to our favorite place in the middle of nowhere to enjoy some dirt roads, sagebrush, and cows.

This magical place is known to about 100 people and many more herds of cattle as Grouse Creek, Utah.

Unless you hunt deer or have ever been really really really really REALLY lost on your way back from California or Nevada, you've never been there.

I promise.

And, contrary to the TWO non-believers (both male, I might add) who accused me of making up such a place, 

IT DOES EXIST. PROOF:

So anyway. Moving on.

(Coulda saved a whole lot of time and space on this post if you'd just believed me in the first place.)

We biked through wind, rain, and freezing temperatures.

I'm still a child on the inside because I think helmets look goofy, even if they save lives. 

You're welcome, mom.

As a family, sometimes we wonder how the other people feel.

We imagine it's difficult to accept our incredibility.

So last weekend, we decided to wow the thriving metropolis of Brigham City with our bowling SKILLS.

Brigham's on the map too. Check it and just start believing me, m'kay?

Everyone was so intimidated by our abilities, we had the whole bowling alley to ourselves.

EXCELLENT.

Bumpers were involved.

Blood was shed.

Some people forgot to wear socks.

Scores were meant for golf.

Teasing was merciless.

All in all, an overwhelming WIN for our crazy clan.

McDonalds soft serve afterward? YES.

Making faces in the ice cream and laughing like it was 3 a.m.?

Duh.

And then we went on more bike rides.

Still - cows. Apparently we're big on cattle for company.

 I might be biased, but I just think Brigham is such a homey little place.

 My family is a load of fun, just FYI. 

For all our future spouses...we apologize in advance for all the fart jokes at dinner.

You'll fit in much better if you just give in and laugh with us.

You may not last long otherwise.

Tough crowd. :) 

I think I'm saying status doesn't matter.

I'm not sure how to write this. It's also a post I started months ago, when something happened to a friend that triggered this mess of words. I decided to leave it alone for a while. And now that I haven't blogged in seventeen years, it's probably going to be read by...myself. Ha. :) Onward.

Learning to be grateful for whatever you have in life. 

Yes. 

This is a thing we are all at least trying to do.

Eventually, we recognize the grass isn't always greener...that there are dying grass patches in everyone's field at some point or another. No matter who you are, no matter what you have in life...there are just going to be tough days.

And what do you need when you wanna punch the day in the face?

• Sometimes I go run it out. I run and run until I can't run anymore, and then I remember I still have to run back to where I started. :) Or sometimes it's whatever the favorite cardio stress pounder is...sometimes having Jillian Michaels yell at me about punching harder as I do so REALLY does make me feel better. Knock her all you want. I appreciate her. 

• If there's a piano handy, I sit down with a pile of books and just play them all. I'm not a fantastic pianist by any means, and I'm definitely not playing for a crowd...but sometimes I just need to be alone in a room with a piano, and I'll emerge an hour later a completely new person. It makes me breathe easier just thinking about it.

• Or sometimes I just need serious chocolate. In most any form.

• A nap. Those help. You know, or praying...or reading the scriptures for a minute, or a general conference talk. Something to just help it fade. 

• Or a friend. Someone who will do whatever you need...maybe just listen while you cry it out, or talk about it so you can hear if your frustrations make sense or not. Or sometimes? (this is my favorite one) You might just need a friend to let you lay your head on their lap while they play with your hair and you watch something requiring no thinking whatsoever, and there's no talking at all. Just letting life simmer down without speaking.

Sometimes you just need a friend.

I remember one particular day as a sophomore in high school. I had different groups of friends. Younger friends, older friends, "popular" friends, "nerdy" friends, choir friends, church friends, and that one guy I only talked to/saw in History, but that whole hour we laughed about stuff (I mean learned) the teacher said. But one day, a girl walked up to me and informed me my friends were in "too many groups." "You have to pick one," she said, with the ultimate superiority. I remember standing there, wondering who died and made her queen. I told her I didn't agree, and that I liked having friends in all different "groups." Good heavens.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, dear high school girl, but I still haven't changed. It's the one thing since high school I'm glad hasn't changed. ;) I have friends in many different walks of life, as I'm sure most other...grown ups...do. Or at least I hope so.

My friends are all very different from each other. Friends who like country, friends who hate country, friends who like sports, friends who do nottttt - friends who are single, and friends who are oh so married.

Let's focus on this one for a moment. Just because I'm single doesn't mean I only have single friends, or that I only talk to my single friends about my "single" problems. Sometimes my favorite person to talk to is a friend who does not have the exact replica of my life.

I remember when friends started getting married. It was weird. :) Then it got frustrating/depressing. Eventually, though, it stopped bothering me altogether. I finally reached a day when I realized what I was doing, and gave myself a well-deserved lecture. It went something like this:

Just because someone has something you don't have doesn't make you the martyr of their situation, and therefore grant you rights to pound them to the ground for having trials while they stand in possession of your holy grail.

Stop yearning for everything other than what you have. Life your  life, and be glad of it! Complain about it when you need to, but then snap out of it, and cowboy up. Or girl, depending on the situation. ;)  Stop coming down on every mother of multiple children for having a moment when she doesn't want to get up at 4 a.m. with a screaming child, or who can't take the thought of seeing another dirty diaper. So she'd give her right arm to go get a pedi with her girlfriends and you'd simultaneously give your right arm for that screaming baby...dirty diapers and all.

Don't worry, that DeeAura lecture took place years ago...not yesterday. ;) And I'm still glad I have friends who share my interests or life situation JUST as I am equally glad to have friends with complete opposites of these things. It helps me feel slightly less crazy when needed, and pulls me out of my personal validation traps when needed. 

On a scale of 1 to Marginally Entertaining, I'd give it a letter grade instead.

Dear DeeAura: 
Your blog has been boring lately, and I don't even come here to read it anymore because you write about nothinggggggguuuuhhh. 
Sincerely, 
the people who might have read this, had you written something worthwhile.


I know. 


What? You wanna know about my life lately? What deep thing I've been thinking about since the last weird thing life decided to throw at me?

Huh. Too bad. I stopped all my deep thinking in late April. :) Best idea I've ever had.

...probably...

And then I started singing in this little thing called the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Goodbye, life.

...which is so sad because facebook makes my life look like it used to be UH-MAZING.

bahaha. But no longer! These are the kinds of things showing up for all the facebook people who care these days:

This would be after at least a week of no sleep because my days included ONLY work, recording week for MoTab, and commuting. 

It was also a day after the world's worst date, and just hours before the world's most offensively boring dinner with boys who should be men by this time in their lives.

Good heavens, people. All I'm asking for is a good joke every now and again!

Ayeyaeyae. I was not created to function on this level. 

Heck no.

It's like I've been absent from my own life. 

UNACCEPTABLE.

Even the sweet special needs girl in my ward demanded to know where I've been lately as I managed to get to institute last night for the first time in...at least six weeks.

See, and then I was just too tired to explain to her that I've been around. Sort of. So I just promised her I'd do better.

THEN I try talking to guys at normal social events, and what happens?
I'm a total idiot.
There's no explanation available.
Somewhere along the way, I lost my ability to communicate verbally, let alone flirt or be witty.
I am thriving on awkwardness these days.

...which is fantastic, especially if I plan on sitting in my room watching 30 Rock for the rest of my life.

I just spent more than the acceptable 2.5 seconds actually considering what that would be like.

So anyway, then on a quick break from spreadsheets at work today (you covet my life, I know) I read through some some blog drafts lately, and this is what I found:


Reasons I should be grounded today:

Apparently I think speeding on the freeway isn't cause for getting a ticket from the crazy bad-A highway patrolman on a mission to save the world last night. Not sure why I didn't think that was gonna happen...and this will definitely cause me the most pain while I'm in Hawaii in August and can't buy that useless thing I wanted because I thought getting to the last night of MoTab choir school on time was such a BIG FRIGGIN' DEAL.


I haven't put my clothes away for three days straight.


Actually, that's a lie, because it's probably been four days. FOUR DAYS.


Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I don't have to be responsible. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!


My purse is a giant disaster. It has Mary Poppins capabilities, but there's really no excuse for the unadulterated chaos found within.


I'd go on and elaborate further, but then this post would turn legitimate instead of just being ridiculous. 

That was from the end of April.

Aaand this is my only excuse for not blogging.

I'll be back as soon as I have something cool, or marginally funny to report.

Go on, get along with your wildly entertaining lives already.

This message brought to you by weird BYU food, sleeping past alarm clock snooze allowance, and probably some other stuff I can't articulate because I lack verbal prowess in this moment.

How to discover what you REALLY want:

I recommend searching the ksl classifieds on an average of about once a month. One man's trash, another man's treasure, right?

Only...today as I was diligently searching for a free/cheap sweet piano on ksl, (because I finally decided it's ridiculous to not have one, but I need a pretty sweet keyboard so I don't have to hire a team of muscly men to move my legit piano every time I move, since I tend to do that pretty often. On the other hand...hello tangent...maybe I SHOULD take every excuse to have man muscle in my life. Huh. Anyway.) I somehow got sidetracked by an ad for a bicycle.

And now my world is completely changed. Uh, how am I supposed to decide between road bike, mountain bike, or beach cruiser? I mean, okay, I don't live by a beach, but how cute are THOSE bikes? But a road bike would be sweet for some summer morning rides. But I grew up riding mountain bikes, and there's something about that extreme tread on my bike that just makes me feel a little more awesome. Maybe I need all those kinds of bikes.

And a sweet piano. 

And I think I want both of those for basically free so I can still save for Hawaii in August. 

And I also want to go on a Vegas roadtrip to visit my rockstar friend Celine Dion because we've just had a long-distance relationship our whole lives and I feel like it's time to put a stop to that. 

Oh, and while we're at it, I would also like an extra Saturday each week wherein I may do whatsoever I please.

That's all. 

In another life...

My friend Brooke just told me I should quit my job and become a crafter. 

I considered it for a full 5 seconds. With a giant smile on my face.

Then reality hit, and I realized I have not yet married into vast amount of money. (and love - no gold diggers here.)

Notice I said yet. Insanely positive attitude over here.

sigh.

I guess crafting will have to wait for the extra lifetime I keep hoping to have. 

"Promise to make me laugh? Every day. "

You probably recognize the title of this blog post from the LDS blockbuster picture entitled "Legacy." 

Then again, you might not recognize it if you haven't seen it.

This movie is really super important because as an 8-year-old girl, I fell in love with the character David and decided what I wanted most in love was someone who made me laugh and who loved me like David loved Lizzie. 

I'm only 30% kidding.

That's right. As an 8-year-old, that's what I decided.

And you know what?

I've been in love a few times since then, but nobody makes me laugh the way I wanted.

So my 8-year-old self might've been onto something... ;)

That's just in case you're feeling nostalgic or curious or something.

Go to 31:00  "...And I will make ya laugh..." The accent doesn't hurt, either. haha.

and then 35:15. Yup.

So anyway. On with my story.

My friend Carla brought this to my attention last night:

After reading it and crying laugh tears, I considered texting the phone number on the ad and just asking if he were A) Single, and B) over 22. Okay, 25. Okay no...at least 27. Maybe he could be just barely older than me. 

Now I'm just being demanding. 

Creepy 40-year-old men don't write funny stuff like that, right?

But I didn't do that. I didn't contact Mr. Doug, the seller.

Because he's probably 18 and trying to go on a mission.

It's just that I confess I am highly susceptible to people who make me laugh.

Even if they go by Doug. 

"Hey Doug..." I hear that commercial in my head every time I hear that name. 

Which might be more annoying than anything else over a span of time...

So nevermind, Doug. Funny ad, though. Real real funny.

And then the other day, I came across this couple on the youtube. (It's funny to call it THE youtube, okay?)

and then...

I snickered, and then I laughed a few times.

But mostly that's what I'm talking about.

People in love should laugh like that.

Even if the dude is ridiculous. :)

So that's the end of that story.

THE END.

So then here's the P.S.:

This picture is for all the people trying to look for me in General Conference this weekend.

I'm only assigned to the Sunday afternoon session of conference this time.

But I must be there on-call, dressed, music memorized for each session in case someone doesn't show up or something.

So I'll just be there the whole time dressed in a choir robe anyway.

Which is really cool, but probably warm.

I'm joking about stuff, but I really am excited. :) 

I also purposely chose a star to signify my whereabouts rather than a circle or square.

Because stars are just prettier.

And also I think if you're 5'4" and on the back row and standing on a stool to sing on national television, you deserve a star around your face.

But that's just a first world problem, and so that's also why I used a star. 

Oh, know you not that angels are near you?

This is because I don't blog anymore.

On accident.

Okay maybe on purpose. 

It all has to do with time, I suppose...

In the literal two seconds before rehearsal started in the Conference Center yesterday, I managed to take a FANTASTIC picture of my incredible good looks, and the organ pipes. It's impressive, I know. 

These days, if I have a second to blog, I...well, I don't. 

Instead I'm memorizing music.

Or driving to Salt Lake.

Or working.

Or dragging my bum to the gym before the sun gets up.

Or putting gas in my car. (Really though...the Costco gas station almost thanked me by first name yesterday.)

I've wanted to say something so many times about what a cool experience this whole choir thing is turning out to be, but every time I start to write a facebook status or write it on the old blog, it just seems so trite. So then I'll think about texting someone like my mom or my sister, but it seems such a waste to just tell one person...plus how do I describe that in a text? 

So I just tell myself I'll write it down in my journal as soon as I get home.

But then I get home way past my bedtime, and do you think I write it in my journal?

Noooooooooooooo. :) 

Head hits pillow: zonk.

I see my roommates on Sundays (...uh...usually...)

I see other people...uh...in rehearsals? Or at work? Or never.

Sometimes I see my family on a Sunday.

But if I do that, I pay for it the whole next week with exhaustion.

They only live 2 hours away, but...I have to do it in one day, and that's 4 hours of driving, and...there are only so many hours in the day. ESPECIALLY on a Sunday.

And can I just SAY again, for the record...dating is so odd. Everybody's story starts out so happy and sweet and fun and exciting...and then...THEN. BAM. 

That's random, I know. I just find myself wondering how it all goes awry sometimes.

And how I don't really have time for the drama these days...it would completely incapacitate me, and I think that might be a problem. :)

Ha! I promise I'm not whining, but it sure sounds like it, doesn't it?

This whole early mornings/late nights thing...worth it?

100%.

In little moments. 

Like when we're in rehearsals, and singing those words just calm everything down.

"Come unto Jesus, He'll ever heed you, Though in the darkness you've gone astray. His love will find you and gently lead you from darkest night into day."

"Come unto Jesus; He'll surely hear you...Oh, know you not that angels are near you?"

The best part of singing those words last night was feeling and knowing there really were angels near, even during a rehearsal. I've felt that before, but it never really goes away. The words by themselves are nice...but there's something about singing those words, and hearing the rest of the music fit all around it so intricately and perfectly...it's in those moments I find myself able to breathe. It's in those moments I feel like I remember my Heavenly Father does love me...and that the busy schedule doesn't matter. I have had more prayers answered through music in the past month than I've ever noticed before.

"I, your Lord and Master, now become your servant. 

I who made the moon and stars will kneel to wash your feet.

This is my commandment, to love as I have loved you.

Kneel to wash each other's feet as I have done for you."

Every time we sing those words, (you should hear the arrangement...it's completely beautiful.) I just cry. Because I'm a girl? Because I'm tired? Because of life? Eh. Maybe. But mostly, I love how personal the gospel is, and how personal my relationship with my Heavenly Father needs to be...because of His love for all of us. 

I feel like I'm quieting down these days, and it's a weird phenomenon. Instead of talking to a friend or a roommate about something that's going on, I find myself thinking about it more than anything else. I don't even write about it, and I usually do. But...let's just say I'm looking forward to General Conference this weekend more than I ever have before. I'm excited to sing, but I will always love the answers I find and learning from the words of living prophets and apostles. 

The blessings just keep on coming...I'm just trying to keep up on my part, I guess. :) 

And speaking of blessings...I'm so gonna be in Hawaii in June. :) I've never been, and I'm SO excited!! Maybe if you've been, you should tell me where to go/what to do. Seriously...I'm dreaming about it. 

Blogging about blogs is what I do after Daylight Savings because it requires zero brain power, and that's the kind of stuff we should be publishing on the internet.

My title is a paragraph.

Whoops.

Whatever. In other news...

It's BEAUTIFUL outside, and I'm sitting inside, at my desk.

I've cancelled anything during the lunch hour and reserved it entirely for eating outside.

In the beautiful sunshine.

Because it's March in Utah, and it's 57 degrees outside right now.

I'm in HEAVEN.

I'm also so sleepy.

A nap might be glorious as well.

Also, I caught up on reading blogs this morning while waiting for a report to download at work.

Super multi-tasker: here.

I have a few things to say about said blog review.

Kaley refuses to post great pictures on facebook, and this is how I manage to collect pictures these days. It's quite bothersome. BOTHERSOME, Kaley. ;) So, since I can't put it on fb, I'm putting it here. Because I like it. And the people in it. This was the night Aubrey and Erik got engaged, and we were all there at the end. That was fun. This was also the night it was reiterated to me what the guys got Jason for his bachelor party, and how they should get the same thing for Erik's bachelor party. I'm still experiencing the backlash hurl-effect (yes, I just made that up) due to this particular knowledge. That happiness on my face is because it had yet to be mentioned. AGAIN. 

When I'm not completely grossed out, it's actually funny. 

No, I'm not explaining it.

Because I'd have to say what it's called, and that's half of what makes it so sick. 

Oh but how is it so funny?!

Okay, I'm done recounting stories without explanation. 

My bee-yoo-ti-ful cousin posted this recipe for Fish Tacos today, and I am SO dissatisfied with my lunch leftovers now. I want a fish taco. I'll probably make them for dinner. 

After I hit up the grocery store, of course...

DROOL.

Anything with lime and cilantro. Holy crap, yes.

Concerning March Madness: I love watching basketball. Really, I do. It's my favorite sport to watch. LOVE. But I have zero desire to win a bracket challenge. It's purely social for me; judge away. I feel bad about this for about 2.5 seconds until I realize it doesn't do anyone any harm for me to NOT care. I'm just there for the fun, and probably the food, and my fake bracket is only going to give you one less person to worry about as you strive toward your super achievement of guessing who's gonna win while the playas play.

Now everyone who cares is infuriated with my confession.

Crap. 

Pass the nachos.

And my fake bracket.

Sometimes I wonder why I blog. 

3 minutes to lunch. 

Most assuredly needs a nap.

Someday, I will get enough sleep at night again, and this will enable me to think clearly enough to organize my thoughts into cohesive, blog-worthy sentences. Because a good blog is necessary? I don't know. Whatever.

Until then, I shall dazzle you with my wit and accomplishments.

My 6 a.m. bench press is slightly more impressive than before. I say slightly because it was already impressive, of course, but I think much of the improvement comes from the fact I actually get up before dawn to do such a thing whereas before I did not. Anything one does before dawn is likely to be more impressive than at any other time of day. ...apart from eating a pan full of brownies, of course.

I almost have the Durufle Requiem (that's just my current favorite movement) memorized for the chorale concert in April. Almost. 

I finally went grocery shopping.

I discovered I desperately want a Kinect. 

I think blondes should not have giant black eyebrows unless that's really what happens to grow out of their face. 

I laughed out loud, twice, at the Oscars last night. I find this impressive especially considering I only watched them for about 20 minutes. Chris Rock made me snicker for at least a good 3 minutes afterward. And Robert Downey Jr...is so hot, and he knows it. I find this equal parts obnoxious and fantastic. I'd watch his narcissistic documentary, much to my probable dismay. I adore Christopher Plummer. Angelina Jolie is just weird. Billy Crystal is boring, not funny. Cirque du soleil was cool. Meryl Streep is so freaking fantastic. 

Uh...I'm much nicer than I used to be. But I still say stupid stuff in the out-loud fashion I'm desperately trying to avoid in my quest to practice the art of "just because it's true doesn't mean you should say it."

This confession probably doesn't negate my blonde comment.

For the record: my bed is my favorite material possession, though it comes in close contest with my snowboard. If it wasn't weird and fairly unwarranted, I'd take a picture of it and frame it and...I don't know...find some other way to show my gratitude for it. I don't know how or why that shows my love and devotion for a mattress, or why that's a thing I should write, but I did say something about my inability to form cohesive sentences lately, right? Somewhere at the beginning of this post? I just think this is probably how people feel about someone they love...can't wait to see them again, don't want to leave them...my sentiments exactly.

I have nothing else to say about any of this. 

Because I need a nap.

I shall write whatever portion of a sentence I please. 

It's such a good thing I posted today. Lives were changed.