Just Can't Be Beat.

One of the most magical moments of my life.

Disneyland. 

Christmas Lights.

Fireworks.

Good Friends.

It'll be hard to top that moment, that's for sure.

My mom is bummed that I don't have a dying crush on either of the boys I went with, for it would have been incredibly romantic.
Yes, it most definitely would have been. But this was good enough.

Really x 11

Want to know what I really want?
Here's what I want right this very second.
It's a lot of things.

I really want to go play volleyball. Good volleyball. Volleyball that makes me gasp for air I'm playing so hard. Maybe with just 2 or 3 vs. 2 or 3. 

I really want to live up in Salt Lake City. Every time I go up there, the more I want to live there and bask in its greatness. 

I really want an internship at a certain physical therapy place.

I really want to watch a good basketball game. Especially since the NBA is back in business. Monday the 19th baby. 

I really want my finals to be over. More like I really want to be done with grades and just be on to a career.

I really want to be on my way to California, in the company of some fine friends.

I really want a new pair of jeans. A pair that doesn't have a hole in the crotch. Could be good.

I really want to these 234 days to go faster. Bear Lake just can't come soon enough.

I really just want to drop everything and go... everywhere.

I really want roommates that will do their dishes.

I really want another Eggnog Creamie. (Kalie, you were right). 

At least I'll have most of my wants by the end of the week. Holla.

Short and Fat.

Little things make a big difference.



A good pen.
I only write with pens. I am a slight pen snob. I want a pen that fits between my ring finger and thumb nicely. Those cheap pens that are handed out for free tend to be crap, they break too easily and the ink dies out too fast. You need a pen that is smooth writing, one that doesn't rip the page. Don't waste your time on the "erasable pens." Stupidest pen ever. I grew up using the blue Papermate pens. Last year for Christmas I asked for Pilot pens in both black and blue. It's the Christmas gift that keeps on giving.




Good headphones.
I didn't realize this until just recently. Those headphones that block out all the outside noise and allows you hear all the small details of a song. Lovely. If I ever get money and feel like spending it, a good pair of headphones might be my first purchase, the world would be a better place.

A good volleyball.

I might also be a volleyball snob. Now, I realize that people have their preferred volleyball. Some like them soft and squishy. To me, those hurt. Give it to me with minimal squishy-ness. I like the feeling of a slightly used volleyball too. The sting that comes from digging a good hit with a good volleyball. Mmm.

I Love You Like A Brother.

Lately I've been thinking about having younger siblings. 

Not that it's going to happen. I don't want to remake Father of the Bride II.

It's OK though, I've got my niece.  

Last night I watched one of my friends interact with their younger brother and it made me reminisce of the times of when I was younger. Even though I wish I had younger siblings, it was awesome being the youngest. No, I was not spoiled (even if my siblings claim it to be true). I definitely have some prime older siblings. So, maybe I didn't really get along with my brother until recently, but my oldest sister was ideal. She let me hang out with her and her friends, and visiting her while she was at college was so cool! She would write me letters too. I wish I had the opportunity to be like that to a sibling. To be someone that they looked up to and wanted to hang out with because they thought I was cool just because I was older than them. I had friends with younger siblings and I guess I could consider their siblings as my own, but only slightly. It really only got the point where I would tell them to "shut up" (I would be a good big sister wouldn't I?). The closest I got to having a little brother was my senior year in high school and it was great.

My last year playing volleyball, we had some "managers." One of them was Chance. He was a freshman. He lived near me and so I would give him rides home after practice and games. We would talk and laugh. He introduced me to new music and I tried to encourage and comfort him. When I saw him in the halls at school, I would refer to him as my "little bro" and he would reciprocate and refer to me as his "sis." It got to the point that people actually thought that we were siblings. Some claimed it was the eyebrows. Why the eyebrows? I have no idea. 

I loved this boy. I wanted the best for him (still do). I still worry about him and I want to be there to protect him and just hang out with him.

It's been almost two years since I've seen this kid. His parents are divorced now, he lives with his aunt/uncle in some random town up north, and might be moving to Brazil if his dad gets a job there. I'll always consider him my little brother. 

All you older siblings, I hope you were good ones. Us youngins appreciate you and wish we could be you. 

All Alone<- How Gorillaz says it.

I think I'm alone.
I actually do enjoy the week (or two) preceding finals. I get some crazy boost of study-energy. It's grand. I've always enjoyed studying and when it comes to this time of the year, I enjoy it even more. Suddenly everything I'm reading becomes 10X more interesting and it all actually makes sense.
Maybe it's my subconscious that knows that in two weeks I'll be out of here and resting from any sort of schooling, and so it makes my conscious excited which results in better studying?.. Maybe. Or maybe it's just that a medium amount of stress is good for a student. That is also possible being as I have two tests next week along with three finals and then the following week I have two more finals.
I've learned that for me to have a successful study session, I have to 1. be in a secluded area (cubby-desks are ideal. Apartments are a no-go) 2. have my Solo Piano Radio playing through my headphones and 3. take breaks every hour and a half or so (this includes PitBull Radio (this is the only time I listen to that station) or Parachute Radio) for ten-ish minutes.
So, here's to finals and the joy that I experience preceding them.

The Threequal

Day 13: Friends that visit even if I don't.
Day 14: Falling asleep to John and Marcus.
Day 15: A clean apartment. Now if only we could keep it this way and avoid keeping the lights and heater on ALL the time. It's a work in progress.
Day 16: The decision to go to CA in December with my besties. ROAD TRIP!
Day 17: Roommates that will let me read my Physiology book out loud to them and that will comment on what I'm reading. It's hard to find someone that is willing to do that.
Day 18: Snow. But only slightly. We can have special moments sometimes.
Day 19: Random girls that offered me a ride to the Library.

I'm Still Thankful: Part II

Day 6: Getting that one extra hour of sleep, and enjoying a lone walk in the chilly night air.
Day 7: Small kind words from my institute teacher and friendships that never change.
Day 8: My brother, volleyball games, and Chemistry study groups.
Day 9: Wednesdays. That means this week is almost over. 5 way call with the members of mi familia.
Day 10: Pilates. You better believe I have "Maximum Core Strength."
Day 11: Once in a lifetime date (11.11.11) cool, my bus pass which allows me to go up to SLC oft, sore knees from playing a bit of the gods sport with great friends, and my kidneys (they don't get enough attention. We all get distracted with the heart and brain, but your kidneys are amazing, they are one of my top favorite organs right now.)
Day 12: My niece, free laundry, and watching snow fall.

30 Days of Gratitute: Part 1

I like November and I like Thanksgiving.
I feel bad for Thanksgiving and how people just pass right over it. I am going to celebrate it to it's fullest and you better believe I wont allow Christmas music till after Thanksgiving has ended. That being said...

I'm grateful for.....
Day 1: $.63 pumpkins
Day 2: Getting into all the classes I need for the semester which will result in me being done everyday @noon. If you are curious about my schedule for the next semester, here it is:
MWF: 11:00AM-12:15PM > Chemistry
TR: 8:30-9:45AM > Foundations of Exercise Science. 10:00-11:40AM > Behavioral Stats
W: 8:00-10:50AM > Chem II Lab.
Yes, I do have 8 AM classes 3 days a week, but I am also done by noon so.....
Day 3: Talking to an awesome big sister that knows "what's up."
Day 4: New study places. It's rejuvenating.
Day 5: Having "Millsap" on my back and "24" on my front. SHOUT OUT: Josh, this is still one of my top shirts and it is very much taken care of. It's the birthday gift that keeps on giving.
And rekindling my love for Relient K, it's been a while my friends.

Sometimes a Vegetable is a Good State To Be In.

There is so much talking going on.

Yes, there are times when I can talk my face off and probably yours too, and days that I would love nothing more than to listen to you talk about whatever your heart desires. It feels good to talk sometimes, to let it all out and have someone else know what you are feeling/going through.
But, there are just some days where we should all lay on the ground with our eyes closed, breathing shallowly, with John Mayer or Mumford & Sons nearby.....
and just listen.

Give it a rest.
No more drama.
No more boy talk.
No more facebook.
No more frustrations.
No more complaining.

Just stop thinking.... about everything.

The world is a loud place. Everyone needs a quite time. Don't interrupt mine.

My Future Lies In A Sweat Shop.

I was meant to cut and de-worm apples.
Give me a monotonous job and I'll nail it to the wall.
I'm kind of like an Asian child in a sweat shop that way.

The fam/the few friends made cider... all day long. After 8.5 hours I left and they still weren't done.
My grandpa's cider is the nectar-of-the-gods and it never runs out. You better believe we have it for every holiday.

I may or may not have nearly cut off the majority of my fingers and stained my fingers with blood. That's all part of the experience though right? It builds character (refer to Doctrine and Covenants 122).

I've found my friends' weak spot. The only way to seal the deal of them helping out with anything is to tell them my dear niece (Baby Tess/Baby Kumquat) will be there. It's a magical trick.

19 Going On Old.

The other day, I had a giant kick in the face telling me how old I really am (suppose to be).
Being the college student that I am, I felt it would be a good move to go in and talk to my advisors.
Yikes.
Don't worry, if I wanted to, I could potentially apply for grad school this summer.

Intened Reaction.

This however, would require me to go through.... hell.
I definitely considered it.

The earlier I get started, the sooner I would finish, the longer I would actually be able to have a career, and the more money I would rack up.

But, I would rather not have to take more than 13 credits (including the devil's subject) for the next however many semesters (including summer), get 1,000 hours of shadowing/internship-ness (is that even possible?), write a hypothesis-based research paper, apply to the chosen school, and take an three-lettered-test-that-I-don't-know-what-the-letters-actually-stand-for test.
Yep. I'll give myself an extra year to get that all figured out and hopefully finished.

This is the first time in my life that I actually feel "old."

Barbie Deserted His Nation.

Sometimes I feel cool.
Like when I listen to "Sail" by AWOLNATION with my hood up.

This is my most recent obsession.
Thank you Barbie-Boy-That-Sits-Next-To-Me-In-Chemistry for sharing.

Pligin' The Rig.

I'm feeling optimistic about the week.
It's going to be, for lack of a more sophisticated word, the shiz.

Check it.

• Monday: Institute and Afetchee (FHE)
• Tuesday: Band performance by my (and I quote), "Tall, skinny, future husband." I was invited by his dad. This boy is just barely 16... Just call me a kitten (a younger version of the cougar).
• Wednesday: Date with Dad. 
• Thursday: Care package making with the sis, aunt, and cousin.
• Friday: New Harmony or Bust! 11. ELEVEN of us are going down to NH Town for the weekend. We are going to stay at my grandparents, wander through the Apple Fest for a little bit, play hide and go seek in a cave or go for a hike, eat really good food, and just enjoy one anothers company. We even get to ride in a 14 passenger van. Hello "plig-rig."

So, I also have to take a test on Viernes, a chemistry test at that, but, it doesn't even matter because the rest of my week is going to be hoppin'.

My Sun: I Revolve Around It and Live Because of It.

Two Hundred and Ninety-Eight Days

Two Hundred and Ninety-Eight Days

Two Hundred and Ninety-Eight Days

Two Hundred and Ninety-Eight Days

Two Hundred and Ninety-Eight Days

298

298

298

298

298

The countdown has begun.

The countdown has begun.

The countdown has begun.

The countdown has begun.

The countdown has begun.

For Bear Lake.

How does one celebrate? With a swimsuit, a lifevest, and a countdown chain.

Huzzah.

Toenails: Umbrellas For Toe Skin

At times, my mind thinks differently than most people.

For example:
One day my roommate asked me, "Kenlynn, guess what I did today." So obviously I took a stab at what she had done and said, "You played hopscotch on campus and then learned the alphabet in French" (or something along those lines). She was in such shock that I had actually guessed. She was almost angry with me saying that, "When you ask some one "guess what I did today" you are suppose to say "what?". That's no fun.

Also, I ask probably about 4 pointless questions to every 1 non-pointless question.
For example:
Why do we have toenails? I know we have fingernails to help us pick things up, scratch ourselves if needed, tickle the squirmish one, and make the sticker smell. But WHY do we have toenails?? I don't believe that they are there for protection, what are they suppose to be protecting? They aren't there to help us pick things up, that's why we have fingers. They aren't there for balance, you can certainly balance without them, your toes can stand alone. If you find a believable answer, let me know.

As an attractive member of the opposite sex walks by, why do our eyes follow behind them and laser in on the section below the belt and above the knees? Why do we focus in on the butt? We all do it, but why? They are FAR from good looking. Eyes, I can understand, they are the window to the soul. Lips? Also understandable, but the buttocks? Really? I do find them interesting however, now that I know what the muscles look like. I guess you could say that I'm not superficial, I look below the skin.... [insert pity laugh].

A lot of the time I just like to get to the bottom of things and understand how things work.
Like earlier today I had a roommate watching The Biggest Loser and I asked, "Do the contestants have to pay to be on the show, or do they get paid to be on the show, or neither? That's what most of my questions are like.

I just need someone to follow me around with all of the answers. That would be nice. Or maybe a super advanced 8Ball. Till then I guess I'll have to start making up answers to my questions. That'll give me something to do.
You'd think that with all my question asking I would be brilliant. Whoever said "the more questions you ask, the smarter you'll be" lied. Or if that saying is true, I'd hate to know what I would be like without all the question asking...

Lucifer Is A Homosexual.

It's amazing how much control you have over your life.

The last couple of weeks have been... strange. I wasn't myself, and I didn't like it.
I was confused, concerned, and just completely unsure about my future.
I had no desire to pursue my education and an even less desire to be a physical therapist.
All I wanted to do was be a college-drop-out and somehow get a job as a high school volleyball coach.
It was a horrible feeling going from LOVING school to not wanting to ever continue it ever again.

Meanwhile, I was active in my institute class and actually taking notes (first time in my life I have ever had the desire to take notes in a religious setting), saying my prayers daily, reading my scriptures daily (Brother Perry quoted his mission president one day. "If you fail to read from the standard works everyday, you will lose your spirituality." That's a scary thought.), etc, etc. So, in fewer words; I was doing what I was suppose to be doing already.

After a couple of hours revealing my frustrated/negative feelings about life to a friend and my habitual scripture reading, I had some revelation. Satan was trying to get to me. He was trying to confuse and frustrate me about something I already knew (it worked), he was trying to find ways to make me stop doing all the scripture readings/prayers sayings/religious attendances. Gay right? It was a wave of relief when I came to that realization.
This is what went through my head, "Joke's on you Satan."
I had a fire under my butt like I never had before. My readings have more meaning, my prayers have more heart.

By this point, I was a little bit more motivated for school and life in general, but not completely.
I didn't watch the General Relief Society Meeting live and therefore had to wait an extra 24 hours until it was released online. Right before I went to bed I finished it by listening to President Uchtdorf's talk. Those men and women are inspired.
It was what I needed to hear.

The next day was perfect. I woke up revamped. I was pumped for the day and my classes and to study. I felt light and there was not a trace of a negative thought going through my little mind. I was proud of the sketch I was drawing for my art class, I understood my physiology notes and had fun reading through the text book, I went for a great run, and to top it off, I got a hand-written letter in the mail from a friend.

It was a simple day, but it was awesome.

I have a check list and it is going swimmingly. I have the next couple of days all laid out hour by hour to keep me on track.

Is it conceited to say I think Satan is intimidated by me now?
The Lord knows us best. He knows what we need to hear and what we need to do.
Life is good and General Conference is this weekend.

Freulein Peter Potter

I was thinking about myself the other day and the conclusion I've come to is: I am slightly pessimistic. Shoot.
I wouldn't say I'm the kind of pessimistic person that immediately comes to mind: "Curse the world." "I hate all the orphans in the whole world." "There is no possible way that cup is half full." "I'm going to go die in a hole because I have no hope." "We live in a place where no happiness can thrive, it gets sucked out of us," kind of person.
No, I'm more of the person that keeps their expectations lower than low so as to never be disappointed, but it gets kind of depressing in that state of mind.

Perhaps I need to fill my mind with happy thoughts.
J.M Berrie said (through Peter Pan), that you can't fly without happy thoughts.
Now that I think about it, happy thoughts make a lot of things possible: you can fly, you can conjure a patronous, you can get rid of scary or sad thoughts...

Here are some of my happy thoughts:

• Bear Lake: the water, the people, the food, the sound, the memories....
• Volleyball: the floor burns, the bruises, the digs, the blocks, the jump serves, the "good games"...
• Clean teeth: at least 2 min. brushing with not-Crest and flossing each tooth.
• Learning something new and succeeding: driving stick-shift, anatomy, heel clicking, whistling...
• Fall: the season, not the action. It's such a cozy romantic season. Just lovely.
• Witty comments: I wish I were more witty, but I appreciate other people's witt.
• Riding Trax to visit the sis and niece: SLC is great on it's own, but riding Trax through it and just chilling at my sisters all day/night is top notch.
• Driving into New Harmony: it's a comfort driving into a place so familiar that you haven't been in a long time and having it look/smell/sound exactly the same. 
• Pretty flowers that don't stink.
• Hand-written letters: they come when you most need them. 
• Hugs: except from the creeps...
• Sweatshirts: especially when they smell good...
• Comfortable mattress/sheets/pillows
• Good piano music: want to calm me down, play a song on el piano.

.... and the list goes on.

I feel better already.

That was a good exercise. 

*When I am feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad -Freulein Maria. 

Ain't that the truth.

Gordon Hayward's Leg: The Thought That Keeps Me Going

I always start the semester off with high hopes.

• I'll stay up on my studies. I'll have everything planned out in a personal planner booklet thing.
• I'll enjoy my classes and love my major.
• I'll meet lots of new people and just have a rockin' time.
• I'll be ahead in all of my classes, leaving free time for me to do what I feel like.

Joke's on me.

• I'm starting to fall behind already and have not yet purchased a planner.
• I am not a big fan of some of my classes. I would say I hate them, but hate is kind of harsh, so for lack of a better word, I hate some of my classes.
• My major is kind of depressing in the fact that I'm not enjoying my classes and if I don't get into PT school, I am kind of screwed when it comes to a career. 
• Can you say "anti-social"? I don't know any of the new people in my ward and I don't even have the desire to introduce myself. At least I have friends that stick around.
• My schedule is super sucky and doesn't allow for any free time (I am great at organizing class schedules fyi.)

Maybe it's just a bad day, but I am jealous of those kids that love their majors and are insanely passionate about them (you know who you are).

I need an attitude adjustment. I'll start on that next week after I bomb this test and get a major smack in the face. That'll whip me into shape.... I hope. Also, I need a good study place. I don't want to study in the Library because I think it makes me depressed coming home on the bus late at night after a whole day studying in a secluded area, I have to say though, I did have some really good days on that 4th floor. Some of my best study sessions came out of the kitchen of the 124 boys', but life happens and they moved away. I'm on the search. My apartment is loud, has ugly lights, and big windows that can see everything. This is what I need: a big tree with nice grass in a quiet-ish location. That sounds refreshing [deep breath].

My best friend this semester is going to once again be "Solo Piano Radio." It's my smart music. It has the power to calm me, but at the same time has the ability to keep my brain functioning and helps me stay concentrated.

I need some motivation, maybe a swift kick in the arse. Where are my parents when I need them? They were always good for that. Or maybe I just need more endorphins flowing through this body of mine. I guess Pilates isn't cutting it for me, time to start running again. Or maybe I just need more sleep, but what's enough sleep? I could probably win a sleeping contest, I can never have enough sleep.

Next week will be better. Yep. It has been decided. Next week will be better.  

*This better pay off in the end when I am stretching Gordon Hayward's leg on the Jazz court before the game.

I Might As Well Be a Pregnant Horse.

It's when I see pictures like this

Or this:

I start to ache for my long hair.
Three-ish years ago, I chopped it all. 16 inches to be exact. I mailed it away to some stranger. I don't regret it. I highly enjoy my short hair, but lately I've had such a desire to pull my hair into a side braid or something of the sort.

Apparently hair grows at a rate of 6" a year. That means it should take 3 years to get back to my original length. Except for me, it will probably take double that time. My hair is a slow grower. The only thing that likes to grow are my bangs...

Now, I've heard that horse shampoo is suppose to make it grow faster. That and pre-natal vitamins. So, if I use them at the same time, does that mean my hair will grow like a mad woman?
What I really want to know is, who was the first person to try horse shampoo on their own locks? I can just imagine:
Joseph walks into his bathroom. Oh no, there is no shampoo. Dang. Let's think... Oh yeah, we have shampoo for our horses. Obviously I have no other option but to use up all their mane wash. After scrubbing the scalp, Jo looked in the mirror and voilá he can now run for homecoming queen.
I don't really want to wash my hair with horse shampoo, it kind of weirds me out.

I'll be "pre-natal" eventually right? There's nothing wrong with getting some needed vitamins and long hair.
I don't know if I'll be patient enough. I don't know that I can make it through the awkward stage of hair growth. I might give up and chop it before there is even enough to "chop."
I'll see how far I can make it.

Schizophrenics Have It Good.

Can I just have two lives? Like in that movie with Demi: Passion of Mind. I don't actually remember what that movie was about, so just focus on the fact that she lived two lives and nothing else.

When people talk about what they want when they grow up, my mind wrestles with it's self.
Do I want a house or a studio apartment? A career or lots of kids? Country or city? Single life or life with a ring on the finger?

There are a lot of people that know exactly what they want. "I want seven kids (4 boys and 3 girls) by the time I am 33, a modest house with a white picket fence in the 'burbs of Seattle where my husband is a dentist and I am a stay at home mom. On weekends the kids choose a meal and movie that we enjoy together. I'll attend aerobics classes while the kids go to school." etc etc.

I think I know where I'll end up and it's a happy ending, but still a part of me wonders what the other side would be like. It sounds thrilling.

Side one: the more-than-likely side with a small amount of details:
I'll marry some wonderful guy by the age of 23. I'll work as a physical therapist while he finishes up school and figures out what kind of grown up job he wants to live with and we'll enjoy a few years to ourselves. Eventually we'll have 3-5 kids and I'll stop working for the world and find a new job as a stay at home mom. We'll live in the suburbs in a happy little neighborhood where I feel safe letting my kids go trick-or-treating. Or maybe we'll live in the country in a small town, either way, it'll be a happy life.

Side two: the side I want right now:
Change my major to world travels (if there is such a thing) and minor in a handful of languages. Graduate. By this time I will have magically saved up enough money. Drop everything and head for the other side of the world. Live in Europe for a couple of years, hopping from here to there: Rome, Venice, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Athens, London, and everywhere in between, also swing by Africa and Asia. I want to spend enough time in these places that I learn to appreciate them and their backgrounds and am able to find all the neat non-tourist things. Come back to the States where I'll live in a city (even if it is just Salt Lake) in a semi-run-down studio apartment and work. In my late 20's I'll eventually settle down and probably continue onto the other side.

This is my dilemma and the reason I want to be able to live two lives. Both plans look great. The first road is something I've grown up with thinking about. It's the life I've learned to accept (that word makes it sound like I've been forced into it, I don't mean it in with that connotation). I've seen it work and it seems to make people happy. The second road I've always, in the back of my mind, thought about. It sounds romantic to me. It's a crazy plan. It sounds like a wonderful adventure and I drool just thinking about it.

I can see myself living and enjoying each of these plans even though they are both so different.

I don't want to have to choose. Yes, I can shove them both together and get parts of both, but I guess a part of me feels selfish and wants to live each life separately without any distraction from the other side.

I know things will work out though in one way or another. It'll be interesting to see what road I decide to take, if it's one of those or something completely different.

I Hope I'm Not 12 Again.

Something strange is going on with me. It's not puberty.

I'm becoming more like a girl (still not a puberty reference). Instead of my usual outfit of basketball shorts and ragged t-shirts, I'm wearing lace (LACE!) shirts and pleated high-waisted shorts. I've painted my nails twice in the last two weeks. I'm taking a pilates class. The idea of marriage isn't as scary as it used to be. I don't dread wearing dresses, instead, I invite the desire of slipping on a bottomless outfit. It's a strange, strange thing to stand back and look at myself and what changes have taken place.

I think it's a subconscious thing.
I've always been the "tomboy," "one of the guys," a not-typical girl, or the one that looked like a man (mostly it was only when I came home from work). More than once people would ask, "what do girls do in this situation?... Kenlynn, you aren't allowed to answer this, you aren't a regular girl." I don't mind it, not at all actually. I think for the most part, girls are dumb and annoying and boring and un-funny, there are exceptions of course. Boys trump girls in practically every aspect. They are definitely the superior gender. Sorry feminists... kind of.... not really.
Anyhow.
I think it's a subconscious thing.
As in, I think a part of me wants to be more girly and not just another one of the guys. Maybe I feel this way because apparently guys aren't attracted to guys? I guess I want to seem attractive.
Maybe it's just a phase. Although, I am having fun painting my nails. Or maybe, this is just me maturing. Is this the mature me? Am I mature? I doubt it.
My mindset/personality hasn't really changed though. I still like to go out and play a good sweaty game of some sport and preferably come out of it with grass-stains, maybe a couple of bruises, and a wee bit of blood. I still enjoy a good wrestling match and watching people play Halo or what-have-you.

Change is good. For me it's cleansing. It provides for new opportunities and new experiences. According to Chakras, this isn't good. My chi isn't in balance. Oh well.

We Are Cool.

I have a Camelbak, my dad has a Camelbak.
I like to sit at bars, he likes to sit at bars.
My dad is good at posing, I am also good at posing
My dad is cool, I am cool.

This picture made me literally laugh out loud. My dad got a camelbak for his birthday from his wonderful children. We are going to have some awesome hiking trips planned.

Mostly I just wanted to show how cool we are.

Ready?.... BREAK!

It's that time of year again.

I can sense the change in the air. I can see the leaves dying to dry up and float to the ground. People are itching for football season to officially begin. AKA school has begun. Awesome.

Today was the beginning of a long but do-able semester.

I only had two classes today (Physiology and Chemistry). Three if you count Institute (Book of Mormon first half).

Here's what I've learned so far:

• Supposedly my Physiology class is harder than my Anatomy class was, so says my professor, but that's kind of hard to believe.
• Classes are a lot more tolerable when a cute boy sits next down next to you.
• Free t-shirts and pins are still worth going to anything for.
• Good Institute teachers are worth gold.
• Chemistry this semester might actually be bearable. It will be interesting to experience this professors teaching style. He doesn't believe in lecturing, has a ponytail and a single earring.
• It's fun spotting out the freshman with their noses in maps and not being among them.
• I still love to wear my backpack.
• I am having major Anatomy withdrawals, especially since I passed the torch onto my cousin.
• I forgot how good it feels to get a letter in the mail.

All in all, I think I'm excited for this semester. I might be choking on my words later.... If my classes don't work out, at least it will still be fall. A mi me gusta Otoño. Huzzah for jean and sweater season.

The White Rabbit.

Let's talk time.

It pains me to arrive late. It gives me the same kind of pain that stepping on sidewalk cracks give me. It makes me cringe like the feel of cotton balls makes me cringe. I get twitchy when I think I'm going to be late. I feel better if I know I'm going to be late ahead of time, and am able to announce that I will indeed be x minutes late.

I've had many experiences when I've said, "Oh hey homie, I need to be back by such and such a time for ________ (fill in the blank)," and I feel like my ride doesn't give a rats... It irks me. It stresses me. I don't like it. Now, I like to think of myself as a patient person, but when this sort of thing happens, my insides start to kind of freak out.

In highschool, I only ditched class once but it doesn't even count because I got the teachers permission. I'm always on time to my classes in fear of 1) getting locked out (it happens to kids all the time) 2) missing out on some E.C 3) feeling like "one of those kids"

When the bus is late, I find myself worrying for all the people waiting. What if they are late because of the bus?! Then they'll have to be one of those people that you see running to their destination to try and cut down on their tardiness. I catch the bus an hour early just so I'm not late, that's why I don't worry for myself in those situations.

MST drives me nuts. I'd be the one that tells people that a meeting/activity/whathaveyou was 20 min. earlier than the actual time just so everyone arrived in a timely fashion. Everyone should have their clocks set 10 minutes ahead of real time unknowingly.

I think this is a serious problem in the world. Screw obesity and economy issues, it's time management that needs to be fixed.

So be prepared, if you ever invite me to something, know that I will be there at exactly the time you said or maybe even a couple minutes before.

Because He Deserves It.

He is the one guy that will always be around and love me unconditionally, and I'll do the same for him.

We are a lot alike, my dad and I. At least, I like to think so.

Like a lot of people assume about their dads, I think mine knows close to everything.
He's a hard worker, and doesn't like to offend people and hardly does.
One of my favorite things to do is face-plant myself into his chest. I do it all the time, and every time he'll wrap his arms around me. I love to snuggle with my dad, it makes me feel like a little girl.
If I had to pick a favorite thing about my dad, it would either be his ability to make delicious sandwiches, or the belly-chuckling-eyes-watering laugh he gets when something is really funny.
So, my pops is a bit on the shy/quiet side, but I love getting him to tell me jokes. I've grown up with one joke and it is probably my favorite, it even trumps my Pirate joke that I love so dearly.
He has such a strong testimony of the church which gives me loads of comfort.
I love to go on roller coasters with him. Hearing him yip and make all the noises that kind of make me feel like he is mocking everyone bring joy to my heart.
When I was little, he used to take time out of his work to go throw a baseball around with me or attempt to play tetherball. My extended family members are often talking about "Uncle Paul" and what a great man he is and how he is the most selfless, nicest, impressive man. I couldn't agree more.

Today on our way to my cousins farewell I was asking him about his birthday (the reason behind this post) and he said it was pretty uneventful, he then proceeded to say that he was excited about his "birthday suit" (referring to the Sunday suit my mom got him for his birthday). Now, I'm not completely sure if he meant it in the way that we are all thinking, but he did get a little twinkle in his eye, and a grin on his face when he said it.

Oh my father, he is perfect for me and I'm glad he was born, and not just for my sake.

It's In The Genes, I Promise. I Can't Help It.

In my mind, I got an equal amount of gene-ness from my parents (ignore the fact that I scientifically do). I definitely got my mouth from my mom. Not just the shape of our thin little lips, but the fact that we sometimes can't keep it shut and sometimes we can't control what comes out. I'm really worried for the people in my future. If I'm this bad now, I can only imagine what I'll be like when my filter completely gives out, I've seen it happen in my mom. Yikes.

Ever had your Chakra read? I got mine read the other day. I went more for the entertainment aspect of it because I can't say that I am a true believer. There was some truth to it however, like how you need to go at everything with love, truth, peace, and joy. The reader made a big deal about my Communication Chakra and how when I speak I may be saying the truth, but it's lacking the peace. As in; I offend people. Apparently sarcasm is a big part of that. Oops. Also, as of late, I've realized how inappropriate I really am, and how some people don't really appreciate it.

So here's what I need to do. I need to think before I speak. Novel idea right? I need to be more aware of who is in my presence and speak appropriately for whoever is in the audience. There are a small handful of people that I can almost let completely loose and it'll be ok, so I need to make sure I don't go over the top and offend them so that they'll stick around.  Somethings just don't need to be said, and I need to work on that. I do catch myself a lot of the time though, so maybe I'm getting better. I just need to keep my comments appropriate for the crowd.

So, for all you peeps out there, I don't purposely mean to offend you if you feel offended. Sometimes I need to be reminded of what people are comfortable with.

I am my mother's daughter.

Catch-11

Catch-11. You're only damned from one side. The other side isn't so bad.

I bought most of my school books today, and I'll go in to pay my tuition tomorrow. Who knew it was so easy to spend so much money on things you don't really want? [insert sarcasm if you will].  Last year I had a scholarship that took care of me, this year, not so much. Now I only have my blood money. As long as I have plasma running through my veins (and my vessels don't collapse) I will have money. A real job would be ideal, but guess who doesn't have one? It's not for lack of trying. I think I'm being punished for something, I'm just not sure what.

The point I'm getting at is: money is super gay. Really it's only those of us with less-than-a-lot of money that think so. Have you ever heard a rich kid say that they hate money? It's hard for me to think of one. The only rich people that say they hate money are those that were betrayed by their ganster backstabbing friend that killed their lover just to get some cash to pay for some drugs, and that's only in movies.

Whoever said "money doesn't buy happiness," was lying to our faces. I think I would be pretty happy if I could buy a few plane tickes to travel this world. I would be happy if I could buy a house on Bear Lake with all the goods (Jet Skis, boat, etc). I'd be happy if I had more than enough money to pay for school and know that I wouldn't have to go into debt for it.

This is not to say that I am not happy, because I truely am. I am estatic about my life and the events that take place in it. I definitely believe that it's the little things in life that stand out the most, but I also believe I would still be just as happy with all the extra goodies. I can't imagine myself feeling unhappy about that. How can you be unhappy in Spain or France or England? I don't think you can.

Here's an idea. How about everything is free? People can decide what is really important to them, in a responsible mindset without getting overwhelmed by the idea, and get it.
If only....

In 20 years I'll feel better about money, and I will party. For right now, I'll still be happy and debt free, and living off of my sisters garden and family dinners.

Baseball Analogies Apply To Everything. At Least That Sport Isn't Completely Pointless.

Hitting it off the bat, what a great thing. Not in the baseball sort of way, that would be lame.

It's a relieving experience when you meet a new person and instantly you are able to avoid any awkward-ness.

All of my roommates (minus one) have settled their skinny little bums into apt 110. I just sat on my couch and watched them all walk in with their arms loaded, occasionally exchanging words, but mostly with the moms. I tried to avoid too much conversation because I know how it can be uncomfortable meeting someone for the first time, so I tried to look completely enthralled in the book I'm now reading, Catch-22. When night time came around, I sat myself in the middle of the smaller couch turned on either Parachute, Mat Kearney, or Mumford & Sons on Spotify and began writing a letter. That's when it began. New apartment-mate Chelsea and friend/new neighbor Lauren came in and lounged with me. We sat chatting for a good few hours, about absolutely nothing. It was bliss. My humor/sarcasm didn't offend them which is a good sign. They dished out plenty of hilarity and let me in on their inside jokes. They seem like prime folk.

The remaining three girls that I have met seem like pleasant ladies. I can't complain about any of them yet. I'm looking forward to spending more time with them. Once school starts I think I'll see more of them, as of now however, we hardly pass paths. A few of the apartment-tees are still in the awkward stage, as in by like 8:00 PM they are ready for bed and just lock themselves in their rooms, or avoid the apartment at all costs, or maybe their personalities are those of hermits, time will tell.

I've slowly started meeting other new people in the vicinity. Sometimes (or once) I talk to boys outside while they sit on their outside couches about heirloom tomatoes, foie gras, and France. I even played a bit of the heavenly sport with a few new faces. It wasn't a very satisfying game of volleyball, but I suppose you can't judge or look down on new people.

I'm craving a good game of competitive volleyball on a wood court with real volleyball shoes, real offensive plays, and floor burns/bruises, spandies can be optional. I'm tired of sand volleyball.

It's comforting to be making new friends while still having a good relationship with all my others. We still go swimming, have sleep-overs, movie nights, food runs, long talks, laughs, and phone calls. I walk into their apartments un-announced and sometimes I even break in. My plan is working perfectly. Hopefully it lasts into the fall.

Showering Without a Shower Curtain: It's Tough.

News flash: I survived to survive a second year of college.
With that, I moved apartments... kind of. More like I moved downstairs and over one. Ideally I would have liked to have moved locations completely (not that my time here wasn't great because it really has been), but alas, there are some people in this world that don't make time for that kind of searching and decision making, especially when it's nearing finals.

So here I am in my new apartment with only one other person who is clear across the hall in her own room. I think I've seen her a total of 4 minutes. I've learned some fun facts though; she has a wii, she has two board games, she wants to be Cuddy from House, and she has a shower curtain in her bathroom...

110 is dark and cold with fake wood and the windows need cleaning. It's the windows that bother me the most. After years of cleaning windows (with a squeegee even) that's typically the first things I notice. Clean windows make a big difference. All I want to do is deep clean this place. It's a pain when not everyone is moved in. How am I suppose to know if they have a shower curtain or not? I'm not going to go buy one if someone living in my apartment already has one, obviously. I avoid money spending when I can. I can go months without grocery shopping. It's a tricky thing; showering without a shower curtain. I'm proud of myself for doing it "successfully." It's the worst when the previous apartment-ees leave the place looking trashy. At least they left flowers on the table. They were from an ex-boyfriend, poor guy. He is bashing on girls right now, I witnessed it. When I get ready in the mornings, I listen to my DownToEarth radio on full blast, that or John Mayer's "Perfectly Lonely"(I'll "Amen" that. John knows what's up). I FINALLY went grocery shopping. I'm excited to be eating again. To get into bed I need something to stand on, it's too tall for this short body of mine. I think my bedroom is haunted. Every time I come in I find something new. Here's what I found each time I came in: 501 Must See Movies (it's a book), a water bottle, PVC pipes, and a closed window. My roommate says she didn't do it, and nobody else has the code to our door. Spooky. I decided it's the maintenance men that are leaving me gifts. I wonder what I'll get tomorrow. Maybe a roommate.

Some people find a group of friends to continue living with until a piece of bling appears on a certain finger on a certain hand (something that happens quickly and often to my fellow females here in P-Town)... I don't think I'll ever do that, as in I don't think I'll ever find four girls that I'll live with forever. Not that I don't love my girlfriends. It's more of I like to meet new people and experience new things. I think a part of me is afraid of getting "stuck." I never thought of myself as needing lots of change and variety, but lying here I think I do. Perhaps eventually I'll want to settle down, just not yet. I am not saying that new friends are in order, just a different scene and by scene I mean people, but not necessarily friends. Verstehen sie?

I'm ready for this semester to start rolling.

Oh To Be Cultured.

While waiting for my chums at The Gateway mall in SL,UT, I decided to spend my time not in expensive clothing stores that have overwhelming wafts of man pouring out of them, but rather Barnes and Noble.
After a couple minutes of wandering around aimlessly while listening to Ben Folds (who of which looks a lot different than I had imagined) I decided that the place I really wanted to be was with the travel books. A surprise? Not really. I looked through the pretty pictures and my mind was taken back to a time when I got to experience places such as Italy, France, Ireland, and Spain. I also flipped through Turkey, Thailand, India, and Greece. Oh how I dream I could just spend my whole life traveling. Imagine the bliss. I want to spend enough time in these places that I can get to the stage of not being a "tourist."
In the Spain book, I looked at pictures of Gaudi's architecture. If I wasn't a devout member of the LDS church, I would probably decide to become Catholic just so I could go to church at La Sagrada Familia. What a cool church! In 10ish years, I am most definitely going back because by then it'll be completely finished. Who knows, maybe just to experience different things I'll sit in on a worship in español. Anywho, I also looked at pages about the Museo Del Prado (been there too). I now have an incredible craving to just go to a museum, just to look at art, to analyze it, to soak it up and appreciate it. Sometimes I shock myself. Maybe it was just the atmosphere I was in for that hour and a half, but I really want to read all about European history. I'm seriously considering sneaking into a lecture at one of the two institutions nearby. Before I go back to Europe (you better believe I'll go back. I don't know when, but sometime) I want to have more knowledge of things I'll be looking at. Greece: teach me about them Grecians and their customs from eons ago. France: Tell me more about the Kings that lived in Versailles and the crazy mistresses they enjoyed and how they thought they were the shiz. I just want to know so much. I have such a yearning to learn right now. I don't really want to say I'm excited for school to start because I only get to learn about Chemistry, Physiology, Pilate's, and those sorts of things. Yes, I do enjoy those sorts of subjects, but I am just craving something that will give me culture. I want Anthropology, European History, World Religion, anything. 


On a slightly different subject, I almost made a ruckus in B&N from laughing. Good thing I was able to sort of keep it to myself... A book caught my eye you see, "The Book of Awesome." I didn't read the whole thing, naturally. I just flipped though all the chapter-ish headings. Oh the truth that came from those words. That saying is right, "you're only laughing because it's the truth."
I love book stores.

Happiest Place On Earth [Unofficially Official]

My dad's family has been going to the same place every summer for 50 years. The thought of it makes me overly giddy, even more giddy than Disneyland makes me.

The wonderful land of Bear Lake [sigh]. 

There will be at least 44 attending from my family. Now, multiply that by 5 and that's approximately how many people go up with us. You see, my grandpa has 4 lifetime buddies that bring their whole families with them as well. As a child I only got to go every couple of years because mi familia lived in CA, which is a lame excuse not to go to this land of wonder. 

It's amazing how fast 212 days go by. 

This is what I'm excited for:

• The first view of Bear Lake when you come over the hill
• The blue water
• Finding the perfect place for the tent
• Waking up at 7:15 with a smile on my face, going for a run in the cool lake air
• Wearing a swimsuit during breakfast
• Getting my hair braided (yes it is possible) and getting my cracks sunscreened...
• Swimming out to the bouys in "diapers" and giving it a good luck kiss
• Mud fights
• The most amazing sand castles
• BOATING and everything associated with it
• Tan lines
• Fancy toe nails
• Food. Obviously. Camping food is the best food.
• The Bear Lake Monster story told by my grandpa and an actual visit from the monster.
• Sailing? Yes'm.
• Games in the pavilion when it gets dark: Pit and Peanut, probably.
• Pickleville Playhouse: Juanito Bandito. I don't think I have EVER laughed so hard.
• Shakes on the last day as we head out.

The list could go on and on and on and on...... It truly is the best place on earth. I love it dearly. My cousins and I are planning on having a "Rich Cousin Club." We are going to get a house on the shore of BL where we have all the cool toys. Talk about perfection.

I've been prepping for the physical/mental demand of such a trip. Running, lifting heavy things, swimming, wearing a life vest even just around the apartment, the occasional boat trip, and meditation. I am not going to be sore after my first time behind the boat. It's not going to happen. I will not let it happen.

I might wet myself from the excitement I am feeling.

This has been my computers desktop picture for the past couple of months. It brings joy to my heart.

Hairy Pot-Head

My family refers to the Chosen One as Hairy Pot-Head. It's not out of disrespect, my family highly enjoys the books. I have a few members that have read them more than anyone I know. I guess technically listening would be a better word. I am not a huge fan of having people read to me, I would rather read by myself in silence, but if Jim Dale is doing it then by all means I will allow some one to read to me. He has a rather magical voice, it just works.

Speaking of Harry Potter, I saw 7.2 at midnight (:06). Not a fan. Of midnight showings that is. Especially for a big movie like this. Aside from all that jazz, it was nice seeing some of my favorite people all in one setting, it was only missing two from the original (apt) 124. 

I did dress up for this occasion. An owl was my choice costume. It took me a couple of trips to SLC to finish it. You see, my sister has a sewing machine and is good as coming up with costume idears. We highly enjoy playing dress up and so making this costume and wearing it was a lot of fun for me. Thus, I didn't really care that my fellow movie-goers didn't dress up, even if it does make them kind of lame... That being said, I guess I am half lame because I didn't dress up for the last premiere... 

The movie itself wasn't bad. It's hard for me, however, to go from a book that gives you every little detail to it being stripped and acted out by Daniel Radcliffe. I'm in the mood to re-read the books now. Is it possible to read 7 books in a month? We'll see.

Experiencing New Kicks (Not Shoes)

I've never traveled far when it comes to music. The music that I listen to has always been in the same genre. You know; John Mayer, Parachute, Relient K, add some county in there and that was about the extent of my musical circle. As of late however, I've discovered that I like different things. I think it started one day when I decided to listen to some Blue Grass: Ode To Metallica (it's a real thing, my family has the CD) something I haven't done in 7+ years. The sound of the banjo reminded me of a song I had heard on the radio: The Cave by Mumford & Sons which reminded me of a blog that had mentioned them and their greatness. It just spiraled from there. I've listened to their "Sigh No More" CD over and over. I can't get enough. So much power in the voice of that Marcus Mumford fellow, and in his lyrics.... and in the banjo... Let me just add something to my bucket list: See Mumford & Sons in concert, preferably in London.

Since these men, I've come upon Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros. They make me feel like a hippie, it's great.
Huzzah for new music kicks.

Frolic: It's A Good Word.

You know what always ends up working out?: Spur of the moment shenanigans. I think I might almost sometimes prefer them to planned activities.
Here are a few of my favorite frolicsomeness:

• Running through random sprinklers at 1 AM
• Having a Wendys picnic in the middle of a parking lot at midnight
• Ghost riding the whip
• Skinny dipping in Mexico....
• Spending hours in Borders flipping through books
• Jumping in a pool fully clothed
• Dance parties in the parking lot
• Puddle jumping and getting drenched
• Stealing posters

You know the "we should..." conversation, well I need to start following through on more of those things. I need to just do them. Life just goes too fast not to. That's my new plan. I don't know what holds me back because I know for the most part the "dot dot dot" part of the conversation ends up being a superb moment in time.

One regret that my dear cousin and I talk about often is hitting up a modeling opportunity. Now, if anyone knows me, they know I could never be a model. What the? Yeah, not for this girl. Could you imagine? But one time my cousin and I were in a craft store (a craft store of all places!) and this girl comes up to us and offers us an opportunity of a lifetime (not really) to model for _______ (fill in the blank) or maybe even star in a show as an extra, all we had to do was show up to the tryouts that were happening in the city we were in. Why didn't I do it? It could have been AWESOME! Obviously I would have done it just for the kicks and giggles. Dang.
 Another time, I could have made some bucks. While attending a theatrical event at Tuacahn, my mom said she would pay me $20 to kiss one of the cast members that was maneuvering through the audience. Now that I think about it, a lot of the money my mom offers me has to do with kissing someone....

I love the "I can't believe we just did that"/"remember that one time..." conversations. They shall become more frequent my friends.

Here's to making memories. *clink*.

--------

You know, I'd run a lot more if it felt like this every time.
A lot of my runs take a long time to get into. I start out feeling slow and weighed down and stiff and unmotivated and all that crappy stuff. Today however, I felt I could have gone on running forever. The start was as easy as the finish, there was nothing holding me back. The only thing that could have made it better was if it was raining.

I am a firm believer that rain makes everything better. Think about it, would you rather.....

Play soccer or play soccer in a rain?

Kiss or kiss in the rain?

Dance or dance in the rain?

Run or run in the rain?

The latter is the obvious winner.  First of all, if you are exercising in the rain, no one can tell how much you are sweating. Win. Second of all, it's just a magical moment, end of story. There is one time a year that it is not very acceptable for it to rain, and that is when I am at Bear Lake (23 days), but other than that, bring it on. 

I'm loving this summer storm time. Lovely, just lovely. 

Also, can we just be happy about the fact that fireworks are legal in this state. A little after midnight a few of us set one off in the middle of the apartment complex, it was more intense than I thought it would be. It was pretty good for a fountain I'd say. We managed to get most everyone out of their apartments and out onto their porches. It might have been a little bit cruel, but well worth it. 

Mexico Doesn't Celebrate El Cinco De Mayo.

Picture this:
July 4th. The weather is hot. Kenlynn enjoys a tube trip down a river followed up by a nap. When sunset hits, she's already perched on a bleacher watching a demolition derby and eventually... fireworks. Credits.
The 4th has been my favorite holiday for quite a while. It has always been associated with good memories and good traditions (even if the traditions change every 7 years). I have to admit though, I'm not as patriotic as I sound like I should be with my favorite holiday being Independence Day and all, unless it's the Olympics ("USA USA USA USA...") then I bleed red, white, and blue...
This year wont be any different. I look forward to it almost as much as I look forward to Bear Lake.
People wonder why I choose this to be my favorite holiday. I suppose if I were to describe it, I would say, "It's like Christmas, except for it hasn't lost it's magic." I still get giddy the morning of the 4th and thinking of what the day will hold. And who doesn't love fireworks? Seriously. Also, if you have never been to a demolition derby, I highly recommend searching one out and going. I know what you're thinking; "That sounds lame." No, no it is not. I used to think the same thing until I experienced it. I will even go with you. It doesn't get much better than mud being sprayed, cars catching fire, cars being rammed into and flipped, and a crowd going crazy for it.
Huzzah for America.

"I Have a Problem With Porn"

Apparently the new drug is pornography. At the concert last night, this was the special cause.

"Two people is sexy. A person and a computer, not so sexy." Keep that in mind. Also, save the poor thirsty Africans.

Oh the joy of having a good day. When a female feels and looks like a man for the majority of a week, it's kind of a necessity to wear a dress when given the chance, a new dress is a good way to go. Yes, I Kenlynn wore a dress on a week day just because I could. It's kind of fun to go a week covered in dirt and then one day look in the mirror and see yourself with your hair done and make-up on. It's a boost. Regardless of the 90 degree weather, it felt lovely outside, especially at the Gallivan Center. At concerts, I am not the one in the middle of the floor yelling and screaming and jumping up and down in hopes of a band member reaching out and grabbing my hand. Nope, not at all. I prefer to sit back and actually enjoy the music. Just let me soak it in.

So... I went on a date to this concert. What would have made this night better than it was, is if I didn't have to go with said date. Brock, Erin, and P came and met up and sat by us. The whole time I just wanted to talk with them and just chill with them especially since that was the first time I've seen P since he's been back, but obviously I couldn't just do that because that makes for a rude date and I don't want to be that girl. 

Free concerts are the way to go. The bands aren't very well known and end up just chillin' in the crowd with the rest of us perched on the grass. Allred [John Allred], ever heard of him? He was pretty good, I was impressed. Hugo? After a couple of songs I started enjoying him, I just had to get used to it I suppose. Parachute? That's who I went for. I had to be sure to keep my expectations low so that if they totally bombed it, it wouldn't completely destroy my appreciation for their music. It was better than my low expectation. Aside from the fact that lead singer Will kept on loosing his voice, it wasn't too bad. I think my favorite part of their performance was watching the bass player. He was just having a grand ol' time rocking out to himself.

This is from their new album. I'm a fan. Just let them serenade you. I love to witness peoples conversion to good ol' Parachute. I've been a fan for about 3 years and it's been grand.

A good day for me consists of:

• a new summer dress
• a warm day perched on grass
• surrounded by friends
• soaking in good music
• staying up till 2:30 AM talking about life

That's good stuff right there. It almost can't be beat.

Whew

So, yesterday was obviously a piece of awesome [enter sarcasm]. Today was loads better, aside from the fact that University Parking always does its job....

This was ALL I had in the food category. 

I didn't go to work, best decision of the week so far. I went grocery shopping for the first time in a couple of months [no exaggeration]. I was feeling especially healthy when I went and ended up with all sorts of "rabbit food." Possibly the best part of my day was.... eating a MAGNUM BAR! Last time I had one of these was two years ago at the airport in Madrid whiles waiting to come home. Back then they didn't sell them in the states [sad face]. Mmm. Tasty. I'll tell you one thing, it certainly turned my frown upside down. It's a heavenly thing. Happiness on a stick. I also bought HP7pt2 tickets, 5 of them to be exact. Happy Christmas Harry. It's a good crew (Andrew, Brock, Ern, P, and myself). I'd like to echo the words of Andrew about this news, "I'm a little above a little excited." I even got a piece of mail... from my mother, they were coupons. Thanks  Mom. While listening to Mumford & Sons Radio (It's a new music kick. It's a fun one) I made cake batter waffles and thought about how some well cooked ribs sounded divine. Now here I am sitting in my Jazz shirt and shorts enjoying the summer air. Days like these are nice days to have, I think I'll have them more often. Also, I almost can't wait for tomorrow, aside from the fact that it's going to be hotter than Haites, it's going to be fan-freakin-tastic. It'll be a summer dress kind of day. I've been in the mood to actually dress like a girl. I don't think I've ever worn a dress for fun, so it'll be a new experience.
Here's to good days. Cheers.

"Something To Believe In"

I kind of feel like I'm suffocating.  I'm in a position I don't want to be in: I really don't like where I'm working, money is a stress-out, lack of social encounters takes a toll. Today I was looking back to what summer used to be like...
You'd wake up at 7 AM [wide awake too] maybe watch some cartoons and make something simple for breakfast that was found in a full pantry and fridge that your mom had bought, spend the whole day frolicking around the neighborhood with the neighborhood kids, maybe go for a swim next door, catch frogs down at the riverbank, eat the lunch that mom made, play 500 in the middle of the street, go for a bike ride and get some sort of injury, etc. In others words, live carefree and happy.
Summer now...
Wake up unwillingly to a random song (some days are unfortunately sounded with T-Swift) at 7:15 AM but end up laying in bed an extra 10 minutes so there is no need to eat the breakfast that you don't even have because you haven't gone grocery shopping for a month or so, drive to work looking like a hobo because no one will see you anyways except for the creepy old smokers, get all sorts of injuries but not from having fun, lunch? sometimes, feel helpless because you don't know whats going on and you are expected to, walk into the apartment exhausted and down, take a shower, go to bed.
I need an outlet. Something. Anything. A couple years back, after I moved to where there weren't really neighborhood kids to frolic around with, I used to sit on my floor with some music going and draw rooms. I would just let it flow. I wanted to be an interior designer back then and it was bliss. I miss being able to just have something come to my mind and then create it. I'm jealous of the people that have been able to get away, far away and just be free for a while. I'm ready to run away to Europe. I miss being carefree. Growing up kind of sucks.
At least I have Saturday morning ultimate frisbee games, occasional boat rides, SLC trips and Sundays to keep me semi-sane. This Thursday will be good though. My favorite band [Parachute] will be in town and guess who will be attending their concert for free? Lots of people. I'll be joining them. I'm just praying that they are as good live as they are on their CD's. Because of this joyous moment, I get to leave work early, wear real clothes [heck, maybe I'll even wear a dress], do my hair and make-up, and actually see people while letting my soul soak in the lovely serenades of a bunch of men. Glorious. Nothing better screw that moment up for me.
What I really need to do is find a new job. Maybe I'll go back to just selling my body. We'll see. I'm ready for a change though. Change is good. Maybe I just need to get over myself, grit my teeth and bare it maybe throw a smile in there somewhere.
Prayer, prayer is good.

Roommates: What Have They Done To Me?

We prefer the vanity area to chat; to bond, if you will. Sitting on the floor in there, everything comes out. It turns into more than just a place where one brushes their teeth or sprays on ounces of hairspray, it turns into almost a confessional. I guess not everything comes out, but for me at least, I feel safe to talk. I'm not an emotional person, or I didn't used to be at least. My roommates are straight up blues [color code reference]. They thrive on emotion. Everything has to do with emotion. This is something that I sometimes don't understand, it's kind of foreign to me. But.... as of late, they have started to bring out that side of me. I've come out a few times and really expressed some things and how I am really feeling and some people [Ern] find it mind boggling that I was actually able to do that, that I actually have feelings and am not completely emotionless and heartless. It's weird. Definitely a new sensation, but it's a relief. Being around these lovely ladies has definitely made me see myself in a different light, I've come to know myself better. Or maybe I'm just getting more confused. I think a part of me used to think that showing too much emotion was a sign of weakness, and weak is one of the last things I want to be. I've cried, really cried, meh... MAYBE 5 times in my life, emphasis on the "maybe." I've never blown up on any one and I have a really hard time showing how excited I really am. I guess I've also never really seen the need to show emotion, or the reason to be so emotional. In my household, my sisters and mom are also big blues and watching them I'd always wonder, "Why are you crying? There is no reason to be crying right now," or "Why are you getting mad about this? This is a really dumb thing to waste your energy on being mad about." I don't know, emotion still kind of boggles my mind. I've had people try to explain it to me before, and I guess I kind of understand where they are coming from, but in my little white mind, it's kind of hard to fully grasp. I have to say though, I'm proud of myself for actually getting to the point where I feel like I can share the things that I'm feeling. It's still hard for me to accurately express what I'm feeling because I'm not completely sure of the feelings that are going on, but I'm working on it. My goal in life is to have more variety in life; to be more well-rounded, to understand other people and be able to relate to them no matter what their personality type is like. You emotional blues are the hardest to nail down. One day....
Maybe I should start going to a therapist where they force me to share my emotions and then help me sort them all out. That could be sweet. Now all I have to do is figure out what I'm really feeling. Maybe I'll go buy a mood ring.
Until I find a therapist that is free and a desire to actually go, my good ol' roommies in the bathroom will have to do.

Today I feel.....

It's A Form Of Medicine. Google It.

Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it makes you cry, sometimes it makes you suffocate, sometimes it causes you to choke, and ironically it is one of the best feelings.
The definition of laughing
1. Make the spontaneous sounds and movements of the face and body that are the instinctive expressions of lively amusement and sometimes also of contempt or derision.
Laughing, what a strange thing. Think about it. It's weird.
The ability to laugh, what a blessing. Sometimes I'll go a couple of days without laughing and when I finally do, it makes me almost sad that I missed out on such a feeling for those few days.
Laughing is one of the first things we do. Is it even a taught? Or is it just a natural instinct? It's one of the few things that never fails us. Eye sight: eventually it goes. Hearing: it goes too. The ability to walk and move around: that goes too soon. Laughter: I don't think it ever leaves. I'd like to leave this earth laughing, and not by suffocating. How fantastic would that be?
Hallelujah for the funny people in the world, especially the ones in my life. 
Isn't it funny how you can think back to a funny experience and it still makes you laugh. It happens to me ALL the time, it drives my roommates nuts. 
Health benefits anyone? Laughing has a few. I think the good Lord created laughing for those of us too lazy to get up and go for a daily run around the block. But, it seems that laughing has some of the same benefits:

1. Mental Well-being. Laughter releases endorphins, meaning it’s physically impossible for your brain to create feelings of anxiousness, anger or sadness when you’re laughing.
2. Reduced Tension. Laughter relaxes your entire body, relieving tension and stress and relaxing your muscles for up to 45 minutes.
3. A Healthy Heart. Laughter improves the function of blood vessels, which helps protect against heart attacks and other cardiovascular problems.                                                                   *Special bonus fact: even fake laughter is good for you. Fake laughter gives you 80 per cent of the positive health benefits of real laughter.

People don't laugh enough. Some people are just too serious. Lighten up please.

Here is my favorite joke [well, one of them at least]:

What is a pirates worst nightmare on a date?....

- A sunken chest with no booty.

[insert laughter]