brain fart.

I’ve been suffering from a week-long brain fart. Every time I try to write something, it sorta, totally, kinda completely stinks.

(I think I’ve set the standard too high… Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hilarious in my latter posts? So witty? So insightful. Yeah. That must be it…)

To catch you up:

This weekend I went to Sky High with a group of my friends. What is Sky High you ask? Answer: It is a giant, warehouse filled with trampolines, foam-pits, and inevitable pit stains. Most fun thing ever. Though I realize I should never go there with anyone I want to be romantic with for multiple reasons (my trampoline face is not cute, things kept bouncing after I stopped, and, like aforementioned, inevitable pit stains).

And…

 

That’s about it.

My life is back to long naps and half-hearted trips to the gym.

Happy Monday!

tops knot(ch).

Two items of business:

First off, I am in love with these people: http://www.taza-and-husband.blogspot.com.

It’s getting a little out of hand. I envision myself in their pictures; head sprouting up out of the background, undoubtedly doing a thumbs-up sign with a crazed smile. And the girl whose name is surprisingly not Taza (it’s Naomi, she went to Juliard… making this whole dream of being them more unattainable) is pregnant! And she wears vibrant lipsticks and top knots!

Mirroring Naomi, I got pregnant. But just kidding.

Mirroring Naomi, I bought three shades of vibrant lipstick and donned a top knot today.

(which reminds me of another story: One time I bought MAC’s Ruby Woo red lipstick. I loved that lipstick. I would always put it on in the house and wear it around, imagining I was something fancy of sort. Then! Then one day I got gutsy and wore it to school. Worst reaction ever. Teachers and students felt the need to remind me that my ‘lips are really red!’ and that I ‘was wearing red lipstick!?’ all day long. It was a horribly unnerving for me and my lips.)

Second off(Secondly?): Today, tired from my day of finals, I slung my backpack on the couch, flipped on the television, and began reviewing for my government final. I was so consumed by studying that I didn’t notice the channel was on a basketball game.

Fifteen minutes later, my older brother Clay walked in, slung his backpack on the couch across from me and asked me if I would judge him if he changed the channel.

I was momentarily confused by question and reassured him that no, I would not judge him if he changed the channel.

He then sat upright, lunged for the clicker(do you call it that? or a remote control? every time I say ‘clicker’ I get questioning looks), and turned on the TV.

Every move he made seemed so purposeful that he earned my attention. I was intrigued.

He quickly browsed through the DVR recordings till he found his show of choice: Gilmore Girls.

“What?” he asked.

(apparently I hadn’t masked my confusion)

“What? You can’t judge me–Lauralie kissed Luke and Dean and Rory slept together…and Dean is married!”

I laughed and judged him, but only a bit.

(the one pooch in my life that I do like)

Oh! I almost forgot!

Today, my friend Taylor(http://www.princesstalksalot.blogspot.com) & I went to an etiquette dinner at my church. We wined and dined and had a grand ol’ time talking to a seven-year old named Jeremy.

Illustrating my utmost etiquette, I grabbed three knives and put them in between my fingers and asked him if he had ever seen the movie X-Men.

He looked at me and said with such seriousness: “I don’t like superheros.”

Bewildered and slightly embarrassed that I had knives in between my fingers, I asked him why he didn’t like superheros.

Matter-of-factly, he replied: “I’m not a usual boy.”

I’m just going to guess he is going to grow up watching Gilmore Girls with his sister.

And he won’t care if his sister wears unflattering shades of lipstick

and hairdos which accentuate the unfortunate squareness of her head.

And I love that.

perfectly gloomy sunday.

Last night it rained and rained and rained and rained. In short, it poured.

And this is what Mr. Rain-man made of my backyard:

(Immediately after this photo, the Mosman family gathered two of every animal in Moscow-land and began construction on our arc. You can join us if you use acceptable language!)

But we embraced the perfectly gloomy Sunday and, after attending church, spent the day eating stew and rolls and watching The Goonies on ABC Family.

Oh, and we(Paige and I) had a photoshoot.

Enjoy the fruits of my limited photo skills and disgustingly photogenic sister:

And then there was me…

(Clearly, I didn’t get the gene that enables one to be photogenic)

 

(but it’s okay; while she is smiling and actually looking like a normal human being who comes from an established town in photographs, I just repeat this mantra: She is flat chested. She is flat chested. She is flat chested…for now. (lovingly)Curse you, Paige!)

newfound narcissism.

Last Saturday, I ventured on over to the local Sprint store with my mother and got myself an HTC Evo 4G.

Why you ask?

Well, GizModo.com raves it’s a ‘war machine’; a beautifully architected slab of a phone that is the fastest, smartest, and strongest of its time.

UberGizmo.com notes that it’s the first 4G cell phone in the U.S. and praises its powerful processor.

And that one commercial claims that it can ‘go toe-to-toe with the iPhone, and beat it.’

Now, you ask, have I enjoyed all these features and utilized them to their fullest? The lightning fast internet? The 4 gigabytes microSD card? The 512MB RAM(what does that even mean…)?

And, if I was being honest(highly unlikely), I would answer no.

But I have discovered my newly found narcissism.

Just look:

(The last one serves as my personal favorite. It as if I am beginning to become ashamed of my outright narcissistic ways so, instead, resorted to the far-less obvious ‘candid’ photo of myself. It looks almost natural, right?)

Right after we left the Sprint store, I began to browse the features of the phone. As if obligated, I ‘ooh-d’ and ‘awww-d’ over the ‘powerful processor’ and large assortment of applications(an air horn app., really?) for the rest of the ride home.

And then I came across my doom: the mirror front camera.

If you don’t know what that is, it’s a handy little feature that enables you to look at the adorable pouty face you are making(my personal favorite next to the tongue out of the side of the mouth or the MySpace face) while you are taking a picture of yourself.

Brilliant, right?

(Also, if you have a sharp eye for detail, notice that 2 out of the 3 pictures above have the same tiled bathroom. Yes, those were taken in my high school’s restroom while I was sitting on the throne. Yes, I forgot to turn off the shutter sound while taking my first self-portrait. And yes, there were people in the bathroom who giggled as I pulled my feet up on to the toilet, hoping they didn’t recognize my unmistakable shoes.)

Oh! I like one more feature about the Evo!

It has this game called WordFeud which is comparable to Scrabble or ‘Words with Friends’ for all you iPhone folk. I play online against a man named ‘whitehulk’(is my mind the only one that is wandering…).

We’re buds.

resolutions, or something.

During winter break, I religiously took baths.

(I’m sure this arouses(wrong word to use when speaking of baths?) thoughts of pure relaxation and luxury. Of baths salts with names like ‘Lavender Grove’ and ‘Sensual Amber.’ Or, on the completely opposite side of the spectrum, of that horrible scene from The Shining(if you don’t know what I am talking about, click on the aforementioned: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSSISh4cUNo)

But that is besides the point.

The point: As I was taking my less-than luxurious bath and was almost-enjoying myself amongst the defective bubbles(darn you, Ross bubble bath), I looked down.

Is this getting too graphic?

But anyways, I looked down. Only to find that all of the mozzarella sticks, bean dip, and over-salted fries I called my diet over the past couple years had caught up with me and was beginning to form a pooch that was then emerging from the water.

I shrank into the water for a mere second then began to assess the rest of my body only to discover that I was now squishy. That’s right, squishy.

But that is besides the point.

The point: After sulking until my fingers and toes had become raisin’d, I had an epiphany(or something).

Right there amongst the defective bubbles I decided that, in 2011, I was not going to gauge my happiness on external factors.

I was going to be happy, despite my ever-growing pooch and ever-dropping grades. I was going to be happy, despite my frizz-happy hair and awkward dance moves. I was finally going to give myself the break I deserve– after all, being squishy is endearing, right?

Which brings me to my resolutions:

1. Be happy (despite the previously mentioned) and don’t depend on others to make that happen.

2. …maybe lose some squishiness. It’s really not that endearing when you’re trying to wear white pants and a silk blouse.

3. Survive. And maybe work on my domestic skills along the way. And maybe my dance moves too. Oh, and stop compulsively lying on job interviews.

Oh, and maybe improve my music taste.

But probably not.

My Top 10 Favorite Things about 2010 (in no particular order):

1. All the people that filled it up. I felt like 2010 was spent with the people who I genuinely love and who genuinely love me.
2. Saving lives. No really, I did. Well, not really. Once upon a time I was in a wave pool in Boise with my beardy-friend, Jason. We were trying to balance on a stolen tube when we noticed that there was a large, ginger child (in other words, a day walker) suffering to stay afloat right next to us. I quickly jumped off the tube and tried to give it to him, but he was struggling so much that he couldn’t hold on to the tube. Jason had to jump into the water and try to shove him and his now-bare-butt up onto the tube. I began to simultaneously cry, laugh, and urinate from the sight of this. Fortunately, the ginger was saved. Hopefully he’ll enroll his 14-year-old self in some swimming lessons.
3. Being a senior. Though most of my friends have ventured off to different colleges in various states (or to the University of Idaho down the street) and no longer roam the ill-colored hallways of MHS alongside me, I love that I am now a senior. Everything is more fun. And I am that much closer to being done with school (…only to be met with four more years of college).
4. San Diego, California! I was fortunate enough to visit San Diego two times this year, once for spring break and then again the first week of June. The first time was spent with my cousin Ryne and my friend Kylie–we played a lot of chatroulette (I don’t recommend this) and gorged ourselves with HoDad’s burgers and milkshakes. The second time was my most favorite–Kylie and I drove all the way down there to drop her off at college and was met by Morgan and Aleigh. There we gorged ourselves in girl-time, In n’ Out, and Bubba Sparxx.
5. All things summer-time.
6. Playing the role of Mr. Bud Weiser: Folks, Utah is an odd place. Plain and simple. When I visited my toe-headed friend Morgan there this year, Provo did not disappoint. We attended a ‘white trash’ party where there was arm wrestling, macaroni and hot-dog eating, and good ole honky-tonk-ing. Morgan, Hanna and I really got into our costume; Morgan was Becky, a 32 month pregnant chain-smoker who fancied all things John Deere; Hanna was Starla, Becky’s child from an illegitimate father (who was brown); I was the notorious Mr. Bud Weiser, a man who, clearly, couldn’t put down the bottle.
7. Learning that moles really do grow back again. While we were in Portland visiting my Geemama, my sister McKenzie offered to scratch my back. McKenzie prides herself in her mass calcium intake and her fingernails prove it. As I was sitting on the edge of the bed, enjoying the back-scratch-session, I felt a sharp pang and turned around only to see that McKenzie had scratched my most favorite mole right off. I held a grudge over that for a few weeks. Fortunately for our relationship and for the sake of my back, the mole grew back. Thank you for that 2010.
8. That I’m 18!
9. What I learned: To sum it up, I learned that organized sports may not be my calling anymore, that I actually can’t Dougie, and that, despite all of this, I am still okay.
10. That it’s over!