Quote of the Day

"She threw up her dinner by the dumpster. Maybe she's bulimic... She's lost a lot of weight... She looks really good!!"

Happy Birthday Steve!

Happy Upside Down Birthday!

"Its not that I don't want to see you, its just that I am reading breaking dawn and Michelle is asleep. Maybe later."

That was my reply when Steve called and said he wanted to come visit me and Michelle, because he was only in Provo for one more day. I'm sorry Steve. You know how girls get with those Twilight books.

Anyhoo, I was about to go to bed on Saturday night... like literally getting in my bed when I figured I should check my phone. Sure enough, Steve was back in town and wanted to come hang out. So I went back over to Michelle's and he met us over there. What did we do? We watched the discovery channel of course. It was Shark Week! After like an hour of watching a documentary on bloody shark attacks, we decided we wanted a treat. So... we went over to one of Steve's little friend's houses to pick up a birthday cake she made for him. We were bringing it back to Michelle's house to devour it, but SOMEBODY insisted we stopped on the way to get some milk. A gallon of milk. At a gas station. At the walk through window. Weirdo.


Happy Birthday Steve. I've never seen anyone drink so much milk in my life. You are weird.


P.S. Steve loves a woman with bulimia.

Breaking Dawn

Yep. I bought it last night at midnight. Originally, the plan was to have Michelle buy hers at Deseret Book (no line, suckas!) and then she would read it and I would just wait for her to finish. BUT as we were waiting in the parking lot for her roommate to make a quick run to Wal-mart, that all changed. We decided it was only fair for me to bust it open and read out loud so that I could be in on the fun at least until we got home so I could sleep. Ten pages in, I was hooked. So we walked in to Wally World and I picked up a book of my own. Once again, sans the 6000 person line at B&N. Excellent.

There were some parts that left me less than enchanted.. some that were just not believable, some that bored me and some that left a TMI factor burning in my brain. Still, Stephanie Meyer is an amazing writer. Even when the content is lacking, I'm so entertained by the way its written I don't even notice.

I read it all. I stopped once to sleep, and twice to pee. My eyeballs hurt. Was it worth it? Eventually. For a minute. But honestly, if someone had just pasted the first three chapters to the last three pages, I would have been a happy camper. enough with all the drama.

UPDATE 4.29.09: I will save this post for posterity, but just know, I have grown to hate that book. I have not picked it up again since, and thinking about it grosses me out. It's too weird.

My Main Sqeeze.

"So Kristin, are you dating anyone?"

People keep asking, so I might as well answer. A couple weeks ago I met a very dashing young man. He's going through kind of a rough patch right now, so things are a little complicated. He just totalled his car, AND his motorcycle, and then lost one of his friends in a freak accident. So we're taking it a little slow. He's been pretty busy lately too, so I only get to see him on weekends at the Provo Towne Center Cinemark. His name is Bruce Wayne.

We're trying to keep it kind of quiet.

Scuttle the Dream Boat

He's got 72 hours. Then its down to Davy Jones' Locker. Then maybe I'll tell the story. I didn't want to jinx it.

Spicy Mole??

So, there's this sign on the front of the Del Taco building, and we were driving past it one day...

Michelle: "Ew? Spicy Mole??? Who wants to eat that?"

Me: "Its probably pronounced 'mo-ley' like guacamole..."

But its just more fun to say spicy mole. So, after we drove past Del Taco we went into McDonald's and the guy working at the cash register had a giant nasty hairy mole on his neck. The hair was like 2 inches long, and it was pointing upward!!

He had a spicy mole. That is our new term for hairy moles. And it makes me want to vomit every time.

Yes yes, I say extremely awkward things.

So. There's this guy in my ward. And he has an almost fiance, and he is always missing in action for ward functions. So tonight at ward prayer, this guy was there. And so, we had our ward prayer and ward spotlight and the "service chicken". The service chicken is a rubber chicken we pass around the ward and whoever has the chicken that week has to do some extra service and then share it at ward prayer. Weird. We also have a missionary egg to the same effect. I don't know what the obsession with poultry is. Anyway. Back to the awkward.

After everyone started wandering back to the apartment in charge of providing treats, the people behind me were having a heart to heart, and then Mr. Always Missing from church functions said aloud:

"Ya, so I dumped her on Tuesday!"

Me: "What?" as I whirled around, obviously eavesdropping.

Guy: Blank Stare.

Me: Realizing that Guy and I had never really talked to eachother. I only heard stories of his fiance from his roommates.

Guy: "What?"

Me Again: "Oh what? Nevermind." as I turned around and continued toward the treats.

Awkward. Party of fifteen. It was awesome.

Operation Dream Boat

In full swing. Over and out.

The List

Most single girls have a list. You know. The list. The list your Young Women's leader made you write every time there was a lesson on eternal marriage. The list I'm sometimes ashamed to write down unless someone makes it an assignment, because that would just make me feel like a silly idealistic girl. Writing the list by myself, imagining what life will be like when I find a guy matching every major point on my list...Why don't I just put my hair in curlers and watch a chick flick in my bunny slippers while I'm at it?

Then, when someone finally convinces to make a list on the spot, I kind of freeze. Do I really mean what I'm writing? Am I writing these qualities down because i can't help but see the laurel next to me sprawling them in huge letters all over her page in pink doodly writing whilst dotting her i's with hearts? Are they Sunday School answers or are they things I really truly have thought through?

I have never really made a full honest to goodness list worth keeping around. I don't have one tucked away somewhere in my scriptures or journal. Maybe I'm so lame at dating because I'm not looking. I don't even know what I'm looking for, so of course I'm not finding it.

What Have You Done With My Name?

So... today at work I got a letter. Not just any letter. A letter from an INMATE. Some of our independent study students are prisoners who are furthering their education, and we're all for that.


BUT. This one inmate wrote in to the front desk asking a pretty generic customer service question. SO. I wrote him back. And not thinking, signed my last name. This is something I always have to do, because there are two Kristins in my office. I usually don't think about it. Maybe this time I should have. OOPS. I figured it would only be like a one time deal, and didn't give it any thought. That was back in March.

He wrote to us again, and this time ADDRESSED his letter to me. Shudder. What have I done?. I reluctantly opened the letter, skimming over the caution on the prison envelope that reads as follows:

THIS WAS MAILED BY AN
OFFENDER CONFINED AT A
WASHINGTON STATE DEPT OF
CORRECTIONS FACILITY. ITS
CONTENTS MAY BE UNCENSORED.


It wasn't a creepy letter, just another regular student concern about changing his address because he got transferred to a different facility. I don't know. Something about it just unnerved me. He's really nice, and I've been pretty awesome at helping him out. But ya know... he's in prison for a reason. So now that this guy has my full name and place of employment, my mind started to wander and now I'm a little paranoid. I don't know if I should be nice to him or mean to him. Its not my place to judge, but I just don't want him getting out of jail and coming to thank me. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have nightmares about it. Because then if I'm rude to him, I don't want him getting out of jail and murdering me. But then AGAIN... what if he just like, forged a check or something? Then I don't really have to worry.

So I had this burning desire to find out what he was in for. SO I decided to play detective and look up his public records online. Bad idea. My little pen pal has no less than NINE. Count them 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 counts of sex crimes divided between child molestation in the second degree and child rape in the the first degree.

So. I'm having kind of an anxiety attack over it. So, my friend at work and I decided to google my name and see what came up. You know. See if my prisoner friend could in any way find me when he got out with my name. Turns out, Kristin Booth is a popular Canadian actress.

She is kind of a ho. Not a total ho, but she kinda looks ho-ish. She has her own website. www.kristinbooth.net . Its kind of funny. Except she has ruined my name, and if I ever become famous, there will be two of us, and I'm going to have to battle her.