Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
I just wrote a huge blog post. And then it mysteriously deleted itself. And I'm burning mad. But whatever. Here's the point of the blog post:
I'm greatful for my body.
I decided I should take better care of it.
I started making myself exercise and I like it.
I eat as much and as often as I like.
and I have lost 6 pounds in 10 days.
And Jillian Michaels is the boss of me.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
1. I haven't posted a really awesome blog in FOREVER. And nothing has annoyed me enough lately to deem that it "must go".
2. I have at least B's in (all?) my classes.
3. I've been eating more fruits and vegetables than anything else for the last 2 weeks. And I have loved it. WTFreak.
4. I went running tonight. It was 30 degrees outside.
5. Jillian Michaels is the boss of me.
6. I did a legit headstand and "bridge" for the first time since oh I don't know... Mrs. Gentry's dance class circa the mid 90's?
7. I went out on a (gasp) awesome date and didn't even blog about it. DIDN'T EVEN BLOG ABOUT ITTTTTT.
8. Chopped off all my hair.
9. Dropped my curling iron in the toilet. While it was on.
10. Bought 20 dollars worth of socks at Ross. And 20 dollars goes a long way at that joint....
11. The boss ladies gave me a significant raise last week... as in, double the amount that the maximun is supposed to be. Just because they think I'm the bomb.com employee. What?
12. I took skunky through the car wash today. For some reason it didn't occur to me that Skunky is about as water resistant as a sea sponge. I got sprayed. Oh did I ever get sprayed.
13. My closet is organized.
14. My legs have stayed consistently shaved for well over a month.
15. I only have 19.5 more credits to go until BYU will have to give me a degree. Muahhahahahha!
WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME????
IS THIS REAL LIFE?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
"We should always strive for perfection, knowing full well we will never achieve it. But we will relentlessly pursue it, because in the process we will achieve excellence. I am not remotely interested in just being good."
I just like it.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
1. Cried 4-5 times. I'm not sure. I lost count.
2. Been called a rockstar by the boss. Multiple times.
3. Worn opaque tights for the first time since elementary school.
4. Kept my room so fresh and so clean. According to Mama Booth, I can't get married until I can keep my room clean. But its cleannnnn. So someone should come marry me.
5. Locked my keys in my truck. In the ignition. In a blizzard. I retrieved them by crawling into the bed of the truck (in a skirt) and punching out the little plexiglass window with my bare hand. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
6. Forgotten to brush my teeth.
7. Gotten lost in the no-mans-land between provo and orem. I have seen the underbelly of this town, and it is dark.
8. Wikipedia-ed tetanus, diphtheria and pertussis.
9. Dropped out of my dinner group because we can't even go ONE meal without the boys talking about crotches. Or boobs.
10. Wanted to blog almost every single day but never had time.
11. Been browsing for a new phone because mine has seizures and creates a plaid-like pattern of seizure bars across the screen every now and then.
12. Curled my hair successfully at least 3 times.
13. Went to the corn maze and Halloween festivities at Thanksgiving point and LOVED MY LIFE.
14. Saw a giant old man in a hospital gown doing laps around the cardiac unit. Giant.
15. Decided what I might be for Halloween. (Antoine Dodson?)
16. Left my headlights on for 5 hours while I was at work.
17. Showered far less than 7 times.
18. Purchased 2 bathing suits online from Jcrew for 24 dollars. Including shipping.
And oh so much more.
I am incredible.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
-From this post, by my beloved Brittany
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
1. Her amazingly long and luscious curly 80's mullet.
2. The old man who gives the thumbs up.
3. The back up dancer wearing a bandana like a fanny pack.
4. The way MJ points his toe when he jumps into the car.
What are your favorite things about this video? I could go on and on.
Friday, October 8, 2010
I don't know what possessed you to walk around campus with your sweats tucked into your socks, but I support your cause.
Also, thank you for doing that little dance.
Will you marry me? I'm serious. I like your style.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I was at a summer camp with my old roommate Michelle, and we were really concerned about being able to shave our legs before we went to the camp cafeteria for lunch. Once we were on our way to eat, in the distance I could see a Moose. Pushing a lawn mower with its nose. Just you know, mowing the woods.
I was at home. And for some reason, a baby cougar and baby wolf kept getting into our house to play with our dog Lady. Which was distressing, because there was a giant scary bear outside skiing down the mountain who really wanted to be reunited with the baby animals. So I took a picture of the baby cougar. But the baby cougar was actually a baby human, dressed in a baby cougar costume. It never actually looked like a baby cougar.
It was suddenly a year later, and my cousin Alex and his wife Kristine had adopted the cougar baby. But the baby hadn't aged. (Mysterious.)
And then I woke up. And I remember thinking to myself, "I really need to blog about that dream. Mostly just the part about the moose mowing the lawn in the woods."
But aren't you glad I included all those other parts?
I blame my vivid dream on the fact that I have been taking lortab to get to sleep. So that I don't wake up on top of my arm in the middle of the night and say a painful curse word.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
4:15 PM: I decided it would be a good idea to do some laundry, wash some dishes, and possibly wax my eyebrows. I've been doing that myself for a few years, and had never yet had a bad experience.
4:33 PM: With laundry in the washer and wax in the microwave for 1:00 minute, I began doing some dishes.
4:34 PM: Microwave beeps. But the wax was still solid. So I put it back in for 1 more minute.
4:35 PM: Microwave beeps again. Apparently, the wax went from being a complete solid to wicked hot in 1 minute. I took the wax out of the microwave. My hands were wet from doing dishes. The container slipped out of my hands, and hot lava wax from hades spilled all over my arm.
4:35 PM: I instantly wisper-screamed "OUCH ..... SH!&" and looked at my arm in disbelief. The pain was intense. I don't know how else to describe it except to say that it was shocking. I then put my arm under some cold water. Please note that I had just been doing dishes, so I had to wait a few eternal seconds for the water to cool down.
Note: This is where it gets gross. Also, there is a picture of my burned arm a little further down. Don't say I didn't warn you.
4:36 PM: I began trying to peel as much wax off my burned skin as quickly and gently as I could.
4:37 PM: I peeled some skin off my arm on accident.
4:38 PM: I looked at what I just did, and refrained from barfing.
4:39 - 4:45 PM: I thought a little bit about my situation while I had my arm under the cold water, and called the emergency room to find out if I needed to come in. Of course, the emergency room recording says that they can't give medical advice over the phone. So I decided to use the immense knowlegde-base known as Google to find out what the crap I was supposed to do.
4:50 PM: According to a burn website I was directed to, I had some second degree burns, and needed to hold my arm under cool water for at least 20 minutes. So I went back to the sink and cooled my arm off some more.
5:00 PM: I returned to the interwebs to find out what the next step was. And I quote, "If any second degree burn is larger than the area of a quarter, seek medical attention immediately."
My arm looked like this:
And I would say that's at least a dollar bill.
5:05 I started making phone calls and sending text messages to people who might be able to drive me to the ER. I couldn't exactly drive myself without risking my skin falling off on the way.
5:20 No one responded who could actually help me. A few people texted or called to see if I was okay, but they were in Salt Lake for the broadcast.
5:25 After realizing it had almost been an hour since the initial burnage, I decided I needed to drive myself to the ER. So I grabbed an ice pack and said a little prayer that I would be able to make it to the ER safely (oxymoronic). I don't know if you have ever tried to drive your injured self to the ER, shifting with your good hand and steering with an extremely painful burned appendage, balancing an ice pack, in an ancient truck with a stick shift and no power steering, but personally I would say it was a CHORE. But how blessed I am to have had a vehicle in which to get myself some help.
5:35 Once I got to the ER (after entering the wrong way and almost getting into a head on collision) I saw a member of my bishopric there (med student). He asked me how I was. I told him I had a burn. And then I started sobbing.
The rest of the time table isn't as clear cut, so I'll just squish it all together. They took me back to get treated pretty quickly (take that, kid who came in because his face hurt. I HAVE A WOUND! I WIN!) and I didn't have to wait very long to see the doctor. He looked at my arm and said most of my burn was 1st degree (thank goodness) but that I did have a couple spots that would take a while to heal. He decided not to scrape off the rest of the wax, because it looked pretty clean and he said it would come off on its own. He DID make me get a tetanus shot. Because I guess that's important to do when you lose some skin.
The tetanus shot didn't even phase me. It was nothing compared to what I had just experienced. For anyone who has ever seen me interact with needles, you can attest that I must have still been in a state of shock.
The nursey nurse showed me how to take care of my burn, gave me a prescription for painkillers and sent me on my way. She was a nice lady. By that time one of my roommates had come to the ER to make sure I wasn't dead, and we merrily made our way home with my new hundred-dollar purple bandage. I might as well have wrapped my arm in 20's.
LONGEST BLOG EVER OKAY BYE.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Also, with the new school year I have been presented with many, many new subjects for Things That Must Go. I just haven't had time to do them literary justice yet. Some ideas that have been bopping around in my head:
Serial Commenters must go
In-class scab pickers must go
People who block the walkways must go
End of row sitters must go
What are some things that you think should go?
Monday, September 6, 2010
OMG LANDSCAPER STOP EDGING THE LAWN SO THAT I CAN GO STEAL THE COLUMBINES FROM MY COMPLEX'S FRONT YARD.
Seriously. People have been mowing, edging, cutting, and annoying me for like an hour. All I want to do on my day off is go dig up part of the Columbine bush in my front yard and re-plant it in my little planter baskets. I tried to grow them from seeds, that failed. So I'm just going to go prune down the flower bush and steal part of the root system and put it in my freaking flower baskets. THAT'S ALL I WANT. GO AWAY, GARDENER MAN!!!! NOW!!!!
PS the sound of the lawn mower is about to drive me to murder you.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
"I got married a week and a half ago. I've known him since September. We were kind of off and on. There were periods where I didn't talk to him for a few months. But we're married now. So whatever."
Remind me not to do that. K thanks bye.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
If you don't watch this, it won't make sense. But yes. You were right... my new favorite quote:
"You know its funny, we started out like this, Helen and I. We had blank walls, hung things, put down tiles together. Then you know what happens? Six years later you find yourself singing SURREY with the FRINGE ON TOP, IN FRONT OF IRA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Every time I hear Harry scream: "IN FRONT OF IRA!!!" I seriously cannot hold in my giggles. Oh Billy Crystal, you're such a funny man.
Friday, August 27, 2010
1. Facebook is nosy.
2. Facebook is a gossip.
3. Facebook is a bragger.
4. Facebook tells the same studpid stories over and over again.
5. Facebook tries to get us addicted to things. (Farmville, anyone?)
6. Facebook encourages stalking.
7. Facebook has no respect for privacy.
And now lets translate that into action: Facebook is the kind of friend who "talks bad" about other people behind their back. He never shuts up. He can often be found sitting on your couch in his greasy potato chip stained sweats, forcing you to look at his boring vacation pictures. He somehow always knows your business and consults everyone in the world about it. Also, he is on probation for stalking. What. A. Guy.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Anyway. Usually this grounds crew guy just cuts diagonal lines through the field surrounding the sidewalk, having to cut across it every now and then. This is a little bit scary for me, but whatever. I can see where he is coming from and where he is going, so I stifle my horror and maintain my composure.
WELL TODAY he decided to swing around me as I walked by, and drive directly behind me all the way to my office door. I panicked. My little heart started beating super fast. I could see his reflection in the glass doors coming up closer and closer behind me. The last 10 yards I seriously had to restrain myself from breaking into a sprint in my high heels. He is a mean mean lawnmower man. I don't know if he was trying to be funny, but it WAS NOT. I was so disturbed that I didn't even look behind me while he was chasing me.
DARN YOU LAWNMOWER MAN!
Friday, August 20, 2010
This guy is being dead serious. Freaked me right out. He believes in elves SOOOOOOOO much.
I had no idea elves were unicorn keepers. Or that they love fruit. Whattayaknow.
Thanks to Miss Crusty for posting this.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
"Making the Cut"
A documentary on 60-day Army Ranger school.
I seriously marvel at both the psychological and physical endurance it takes to keep from weeping like a wimpy baby while going through the hell that is ranger school. About 100 recruits quit within the first 3 days. The soldiers are sleep deprived and food deprived on purpose. As in... one meal every couple days, 3 hours of sleep every two days. Army Rangers are an elite group. Only the best of the best are even sent to ranger school to begin with. Over the course of 61 days, most of them will lose 30 to 40 pounds. And how hard is it for them to stay awake, let alone do something strenuous? One soldier told the camera one of the tricks of the trade to stay alert:
"Some of these guys put tabasco sauce in their eyes. I haven't tried that yet."
One time, in highschool, I cussed aloud and then started crying because I dropped a powdered donut on the ground, and I was REALLY hungry. Ranger school is not for me.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sometimes it makes me sad that my first initial is K. Welcome to the spice KKK. Apparently, my spices don't like mixing with other spices. No spice integration here. This is totally not me. It's too bad my initials aren't NAACP. I know that doesn't make sense, but I'm sure you get what I'm saying.
Once upon a time yesterday I went to go fill up the old skunky truck with gas. The gas tank access door thinga-ma-jig has to be opened with a key sometimes. But not other times. I can't explain it. It has a lock? Whatever.
So I was trying reallllllly hard to open up the gas lock, and totally bent my car key. To the max. It was both bent AND twisted. I didn't take a picture, (because I was PANICKING) but I should have. This is seriously what it looked like though:
But worse. It wouldn't open my door, and it definitely wouldn't turn the ignition. I thought about calling my dad to ask him what to do, but that's when I remembered that the key I destroyed was the one and only key we have for the skunk. My earthly father, the amazing fix-it-man that he is, wouldn't be able to help me.
At that point, I said a desperate prayer to my Heavenly Father that I would be able to somehow get home. I really, really did not want to have to be towed from the gas station. After my little prayer, I became a newly inspired and determined McGyver. I stuck the bent key back into the gas tank lock and then carefully, meticulously and expertly bent my key back into near perfect condition. Wait, should that have been physically possible? Probably not. Did it open the door? Yes. Did it fit in the ignition? Pretty much. Does the car start? Yes.
I said another little prayer of thanks as I made my way back to my apartment. As I got out of my little truck, I noticed that I had driven all the way home from the gas station with my ancient and probably non-replaceable gas cap just sitting gingerly on the roof of the truck-bed cover.
I then said another little prayer of thanks that the gas cap didn't roll off. I am a dumb dumb. And my prayers are still answered. That's good to know.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Ever since we inherited the Mazda from my grandpa, my dad has always said:
"We should make a hot rod out of it!!"
..... And it always made me question his sanity a little bit, because, well, have you seen the truck?
No? Meet skunky:
Not hot rod material.
So anyway, this morning I was trying to find out via google how big the gas tank was on this bad boy, because I have a sneaking suspicion that the gas gauge shows 3/4 of a tank when really it should read FREAKING EMPTY.
As I was looking for a PDF of an old owners manual, I discovered that people actually DO make hot rods out of yes, the exact same make and model Mazda truck that I drive. This phenomenon can be attributed to the rising popularity of restoring "mini trucks."
Hot rodders basically turn these little automotive pipsqueaks into itty bitty low riders.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
It's a really trashy rhyme we used to sing when we were playing a ghetto pattycake game in elementary school. Our version went like this:
Miss Susie had a baby, the baby had a bill
miss Susie went to heaven, the baby went to
HELLO operator, please give me number 9
And If you disconnect me, I'll kick your big
BEHIND the 'fridgerator, there lay a piece of glass
Miss Susie sat upon it, and broke her little
ASK me no more questions, I'll tell you no more lies
The boys are in the bathroom, zipping up their
FLIES are in the city, the bees are in the park,
Miss Susie's with her boyfriend, kissing in the
D-A-R-K D-A-R-K Dark dark dark!
The dark is like a movie, the movie's like a show
A show is on a TV set and that is all
I KNOW I know my mama, I know I know my pa
I know I know my sister with a 40 acre bra!
I didn't think anything of it when I was little. I also didn't think anything of this one:
Mailman mailman do your duty,
Here comes Shayna with a big fat booty
She can shake it to the right
she can shake it to the left
when she shakes it she's the best
Oh. And there were tons more. One of my favorites when I was little was this gem my friends learned while cheerleading for the Fremont Football League, aka the FFL, as in, the pee-wee football league in my city where little girls learned how to be hoochies and little boys turned into thugs. Way to go, Fremont. Anyway. It went like this:
Who000 rocks the house?
Kelly rocks the house.
And when Kelly rocks the house,
she rocks it
ALL THE WAYYYYY DOWNNNNN!
Now, we didn't use this rhyme during pattycake. We didn't use it during hopscotch. No, not even playing jump rope. When we sang that one, we stood in a semi-circle and whoever we said "rocked the house" would dance in the middle of the circle until the ending line. On the ending line, the girl in the middle would shake her hips all the way down to the ground. As in. We rocked the house all the way down.
WE WERE 9 YEARS OLD.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Also, the movie is named after the famous poem "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley. It's my new favorite. It's amazing to me how literarily incompetent I am sometimes. I had never heard of it until watching this movie, but I love love love it.
Out of the night that covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever Gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell grasp of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid
It matters not how strait the gate
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
I may or may not have just typed that entirely from memory. Booyah.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Its tooooooo bad I wasn't old enough to be a Bruce Springsteen groupie back when he was in his prime. And when I say I wasn't old enough, what I really mean is that I wasn't born yet. I think this concert was held in 1986. So close. Then again, maybe it's for the best. His groupies were probably disgusting hoochies. But dang, do you BLAME them?
Maybe I will marry someone named Bruce. Ya, I know. It rhymes with spruce, and goose, and abuse, but man. Bruces seem to be winners.
Winner. A patriotic winner.
A white-trash batman, if you will.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Most of the posts will be original, but as I look through my blog archives I'll probably adapt some of the posts I've written about previously to fit the new blog. I love it. FOLLOW!
K thanks bye.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Glenmoor, Oh Glenmoor
It didn’t take me long to choose
For my poetic entry
Short stories from my childhood
At Glenmoor elementary.
Our principal had a Gerry curl
And smoked two packs a day
Yet somehow wooed a married teacher,
Resigned and ran away.
Our music teacher hated kids,
Bragged Gershwin was her homie
But judging by her singing voice
That story was baloney.
I was the whitest little girl
There was or ever has been
Still I learned me some double dutch
From Shayna, Kelly and Jasmine.
When it came to bullies
I refused to pay my dues.
I once gave one a bloody nose
When he attempted to abuse.
One day my lunch was stolen though,
they even took my glasses.
Had I known the thieves behind the heist
I would have kicked their @$$&$
Janitor Dave was a frowny man
With a significant stalker ‘stache
But I really liked him after he fished
my retainer from the trash.
Our playground boasted rusty slides
And swings with broken chains
Nestled in a neighborhood
Oft frequented by gangs.
My education was unique,
A crazy one at that
Yet still I’m proud to call myself
A Glenmoor Wildcat.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Nbd. Just you know, the height of a 3 story building. If Mama Booth had been there, she would not have allowed it. Here's why:
I just love how no camera is able to capture the entire thing within the frame. DO YOU PEOPLE KNOW ME? I can't even help my dad put up christmas lights because heights kind of freakkkkk me out. But I just wanted to play in the village that much I guess. My legs and arms were shaky for oh, I don't know, the entirety of the tour. Worth it? Yes.
Notable occurrences: At one point, I climbed down into a pit house at one of the cliff dwellings to just, you know.... see what I could see. There was no one down there. And then, there was a funny asian mother / daughter combo who came down the ladder to make some model poses and take pictures. And then, out of NO WHERE, there was a very large, very frightening native american man in front of me. He reached out his hands in a very menacing gesture toward my person and said:
"Ha! Now I've got you!!" ...... Maniacal Laughter
And I flew out of that pit house like a bat out of native american hell.
Aside from being haunted by the ghosts of past residents disguised in modern day clothing, I am not kidding when I say that I would be perfectly content to find my own little cliff dwelling and move in. There are over 600 in the greater Mesa Verde area. I'm sure I could find one that would suit me just fine.
Also... I contracted some semi-wicked poison ivy from frolicking in the wilderness.
That is the price you have to pay to be one with nature I guess.
Friday, June 18, 2010
And I said: Maybe, where are you going?"
And she said: "I don't know. Lets figure it out."
And the rest is history. And by history, I mean we sat down for a substantial amount of time every day for the next week in preparation for our journey. And oh what a journey it was.
Cali, myself, and 5 boys + 1 girl decided to go to Lake Powell for Memorial Day Weekend, 2010. With 8 people and two very determined drivers we made a pretty impressive loop around the great state of Utah in 3 days. Check out our route:
Then, the boys tried to cliff jump off of a rock that jutted out about 20 feet at the bottom from where they were standing, and I literally had to talk them down from the edge. I used my best mom voice to try to convince them that if they jumped, their final resting place would be in the Lake Powell chapter of Davy Jones' Locker. It was exhausting. They surrendered after a 10 minute showdown and jumped off a smaller cliff instead.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
P.s. Your teeth are black.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
To read it, go HERE!!!!!!!!
And, you are welcome.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Q: How far do I run?
A: Typically, 1 mile.
Q: How much of that is spent actually running, not walking?
A: At least 80%
Q: Have I yet to run 1 whole mile in my life without walking?
A: It's possible that it occurred once or twice in my high school "fit for life" class, but no such occasion has ever been documented.
Q: What are my current exercise goals?
A: I want to be able to run a mile without stopping. Or crying. Or dying.
Q: Do I time myself?
A: No. But I think I'll start once I can make it the whole mile. I'm working toward eventually beating my fastest time ever. Which was 9 minutes flat. In the 8th grade.
Q: How sexy do I look when I am running?
A: Zero sexiness achieved.
Q: How awesome do I feel when I go running?
A: Pretttttty awesome.
Q: Man, how do I do it?
A: With the enormous power contained in a little thing I like to call Bojangles (the iPod).
Q: What's on your jogging playlist?
Q: Interesting. Do I run during bouts of inclement weather?
A: You bet your buns.
Q: Do I enjoy running in the rain?
A: Yes. Except for the sensation on my forehead that I imagine feels quite similar to Chinese water torture.
Q: Have I ever biffed it big time?
A: Not yet. My shoes are glorious and springy and quite grippy.
Q: Have I started drinking water like a crazy woman?
A: Why yes, yes I do. And I don't save any for the whales.
Thank you. Those are all the questions I have time for. Good day.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
I saw this box of tissues at Smith's. And I immediately stopped in my tracks and just stared at it. I wanted it. I picked it up. I almost put it in my cart, and then I remembered that I don't really have a need for kleenex. Ever. In fact, I don't think I have ever bought or used a box of tissues in my whole entire college career. I'm not too proud to blow my nose in toilet paper. But man, packaging just GETS me.
One of my spring classes brings me a huge amount of entertainment and happiness. One of them does not. It's boring. And so, I find myself putting several tiny "Sulley" braids in my hair throughout the hour and a half lecture. And then I take pictures. And text them to friends.
Okay, so mine isn't nearly as majestic as Sully's. His is down to his waist. And beaded.
Also, it is duckling season. This mama duck put its head down, wings out, and tried to ram me. I wasn't going to steal one of her babies. I just thought about it for a second, okay?!
When I wear these shoes, it looks like I have cloven hooves. All you can see are my two biggest toes poking out of the "peep" toe. It makes me giggle when I walk. And I said giggle, not jiggle.
Look closely. That is the heard of moms crossing the street during women's conference. They are like a plague. They fill the streets and cause reckless mayhem all over BYU's campus. A pox upon your houses, women's conference!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
My mom tried to teach her the art of fastening the boutonniere on Papa Booth. He's going to heaven for his patience.