Hot Weekend

So, I don't get to go to Logan to see my sister graduate college, and I'm pretty bummed about it. I have classes that I can't miss, however, and can't go up to Utah and see Steph and Greg (and the bun in the oven, my niece).

And since I will be hanging out by myself this weekend, I thought I'd come up with some fun things to do. Like...

And...

As well as...

I can't come up with anything. My life is that lame.

So Diego and I are just going to chill inside this weekend, trying not to die of heatstroke. And that's about it. Maybe we'll get crazy and drink some soda or something.

Woopppeeeee!

(Actually, I really don't mind any of it. Kicking it by myself is how I've lived most my life, so that's why I'm not so into this free weekend thing. I FEEL like I should be more into it than I am, so... yeah.)

And that's that.

Although I am worried about the heatstroke thing. MAN, IT'S HOT. I feel like I should be dipping Diego in a bowl of ice water every so often, what with that mass of dark fur and stuff... but he just shot me a devilish evil eye look, so I'm thinking that's a no.

Libba Bray on How It Feels To Have Writers Block

Oh, Libba Bray, how I do love you....

WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE WRITERS BLOCK
"The Ever-Popular I Suck Playlist
 One of the things that continues to surprise me about the writing life is how bloody impossible it can seem at times....

....Usually, I get a sense that this is about to happen because I become agitated and completely avoidant. I will whimper and pace the way dogs do before a bad storm. There will be a few days, maybe a week or two, sometimes even a month, in which the writing feels terribly stilted. False. Awful. The equivalent of small talk at a party where you don’t know anybody and you can’t leave yet because somebody else is driving, and so you just have to keep standing in the corner holding on to your sweating seltzer glass saying, “Really? How interesting. I did not know that about elephants.”


I hate this part. Hate it. These are the days when I come home with the comic book dark cloud scribbles over my head, and when my husband asks me how the writing’s going, I sigh and press my head against my palms and moan, “Terrible. I can’t figure this thing out. I don’t know anything about writing books. You have to tell them I don’t know how to write books. The last five books were a fluke, and now it’s over. Over, I tell you. I’m so sorry. I tried. I have to go watch The Simpsons now.”

If this part of the writing process were an iPod track list it would look like this:


Track #1: I Suck
Track #2: I’m Not Smart Enough to Write This Book
Track #3 No, This Is Different
Track #4: Maybe I Could Become a Firefighter/Gravedigger/Finger Puppeteer
Track #5: I Suck, Parts IV-VIII
Track #6: Why Can’t I Write Like (Fill in Blank)?
Track #7: This Doesn’t Happen To (Fill in Blank)
Track #8: Will You Help Me Fake My Death/It’s the Only Way/My Life in a Storage Unit Medley
Track #9: I Suck (Extended Dance Remix)
Track #10: What Was I Thinking?
Track #11: This Is Hopeless! (DJ Flail ‘N’ Whine Mix)
Track #12: So Overwhelmed I’m Underwater
Bonus Track: Also, I Hate My Hair"


AMEN TO THAT. It's So. Ridiculously. True.

Thank you, Libba Bray, for making my life a better place.

Roaring Twenties

So, I had an awesome birthday; thanks for all your well wishes :))) Also, Diego had a great birthday, too, if any of you were wondering. When I was eleven I decided that his birthday would be the day before mine, because that's just awesome (we'd been told when we bought him he was born in April, so I eventually decided the date. Because, you know, I have those powers). He is now 13, and I am now, as my father put it the other day, leaving the teens behind and entering my roaring twenties.

My grandma laughed when she heard this and then proceeded to demand that I roar. I just laughed.

(I don't think I could really roar if I wanted to.)

But since I'm twenty, I thought I'd pay homage to the delightful 1920's...

Flapper Style!

That's me there, on the left. Making the uber-weird face. Like any normal day.

:))))

Days 11-13

Day 11 - A picture of something you hate: ASPARAGUS. Ewwwwww.

Day 12 - A picture of something you love: Bubbles. Duh. Everyone loves bubbles. Have you ever run into someone, and they're like, "No, I don't like bubbles..."? Exactly.

Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist: Gotta pay tribute to Weezer. My favorite of the Middle school/High school days. I haven't even listened to their past, what, three albums... but I still have a deep love for River Cuomo. (This is the picture from the first album of theirs I got-- The Green Album- Christmas morning!)

Makes Me Laugh

Out of order, sorry... but this one needed a whole post of it's own, because there is really just too many...

Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.

the original "makes me pee my pants laughing" picture of all time.

(told you, Mom. Gingers.)

(found at the store once... mustaches for every day of the week!)



just found this jewel of my brother in law on their wedding day... I <3 Greg



Days 3 Through 10

Catching up...

Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.

Day 04 - A picture of your night.

FHE this week was a bonfire at the beach.
3 of my favorite people: Becca, Alisha, and Dionte

Day 05 - A picture of one of your favorite memories.

In representation of 2008's BYU Theatre Workshop 2-week Extravaganza. The most defining 2-weeks of my life. Period.

Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.
NO MAKING FUN...
a. Because she's flipping gorgeous.
b. I've always thought that modeling would be a buttload of fun.
c. so I could cancel her tv show.

Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.

MY COMPUTER: means to my writing, buying books, blogging, all my pictures, radio, and basically all else that is awesome. (Also, my hands and fingers-- also pictured-- is pretty cool too, and I do treasure them also.)

Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.
 *Too many to pick from, so it's getting it's own post once I'm finished with this one.

Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.

Christ, obviously.

Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most messed up things with.

I wouldn't say "messed up" things... but we have had our share of burp contests in the past. Love you, Mom!

 

And now I do believe I am caught up.

Hitting the Wall, Again and Again

*writers block writers block writers block writers block writers block*

ugh ugh ugh ugh

sdbvjuwehirgsadkj;ksjf;kdshjgkfdjnvdfknv jfdhnfjdfjad;kjdsfdsnkjcnws;ajioewotu2hf

One year is tooooo long to be blocked de writing.

So much for my dreams of becoming an author; thanks, writers block, for destroying my hopes and dreams!

sdhfiowehjiohkenckljewioahfiueowhjfkaewnjmgopejeiowahgiosjdmflnwekjoahfuidhefkdsankfdshgfwe;jk

*writers block writers block writers block writers block writers block*

Hiccups of DOOM

Man, I had the worst hiccups today. Which is saying a lot: those who have spent lots of time around me know that when I get the hiccups, I get the hiccups.

Loud. Painful. Ginormaus.

Frequent.

So, after a morning out at the doctors and random errands, I spent some time, minding my own business, lying on my bed reading The Age of Innocence, when I suddenly get the urge to clean my room. Now, I've been waiting for this desire for the last week (my room has had a great need to be cleaned, but I have to wait for that moment of sudden inspiration to finally modivate me, or else it simply won't get done), so I quickly marked my book and lept out of bed. It wasn't twenty seconds later when I was washing my hands that the first one hit. Then the second, third, and fifteenth, in rapid succession.

They went on FOREVER. Changing my laundry. Hiccups. Changing my sheets. Hiccups. Hanging up laundry. Hiccups. Over an hour and a half. That has to be some sort of record. They were coming like, every five-ten seconds. That's a buttload of hiccups, man.

On a scale of a annoyance, this episode of hiccups was beyond-freaking-ridiculous. I was half certain I was dying, drowning in broad daylight with clean laundry finally hanging in my closet, by poor lungs fighting for breath in large, dramatic gulps of air in painful bursts...

And can I just say? Hiccuping and sneezing at the same time = worst experience ever. Just saying.

Day2/ Fryyyyday

So, I don't know if I've mentioned this, but for the last month or so, I've been going out with the sister Missionaries from my church, doing the missionary thing, a few hours a week. Basically, since I'm free during most days (since my school is at night), they call me up, and are like "You want to come with us?" And I'm like "Sure beans, man" and that's how it happens.

Anyways. Thought I should mention that. Because it's awesome, and it's how I've been spending my time lately.

In other news...

60 DAY PHOTO CHALLENGE
(I don't understand WHY this is a challenge...)

Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with for the longest.


Weeeeeellll....


In truth, it's Diego, but he's not exactly a person, so...



It's Stepheritos!

Stephanie Lovett and I have been friends since the 7th grade. We're the kind of friends, now, that we'll go months without seeing each other, but still feel in sync. We're both non-dramatic people, and our common silliness seems to mesh well together.

All in all, I'm friends with a million and a half people-- I rarely meet someone I don't love-- but usually, I'm not particularly close with people. That's my style, and I'm quite okay with it. 
 
I love you all :)
 
<3

Balance

The other day, as I was driving down a busy street, I saw a kid skateboarding while eating a Cup of Noodles.

Even though it's pretty stupid, you have to admit, that kid's got some pretty legit skills.