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!

taco vans and elementary crushes.

As our fully loaded Dodge truck meandered slowly up the Lewiston grade, my full stomach began to sing.

Yes, sing. It was as if my stomach was saying a heart-felt thank you.

That afternoon I had graciously given my stomach the gift of tacos and tamales. …and every single sample at Costco, but that is besides the point.

The point: I am now an advocate to taco vans(yes, vans) everywhere

In Lewiston, Idaho, across the way from Effie’s Burgers(also a dive) and kiddie-corner from Dairy Queen lies a completely sketchy van adorned with pictures, Christmas lights, and menus listed in Magic Marker. As you can imagine, it is not the normal place for me to eat–I am used to high quality dining. Fine dining if you will. My normal seat at Cougar Country would guffaw at me nearing the taco van(yes, van) dubbed Cecy’s Tacos.

I approached the van reluctantly. Noting the not-so-scenic scenery that surrounded it and the bargain-brand napkins fluttering on the table.

As I ordered (a Walla Walla taco), I began to develop a crush on the little taco van. It was like an ugly baby, or a misshapen substitute, or my Clark’s wallabee boots.

Once I sank my decreasingly-straight teeth into that taco, complete with avocados, shredded beef, and onions, my elementary-school crush became a full-blown romance.

I wanted to take that taco van out to dinner and a movie of its choice.

I wanted to share headphones with that taco van, blasting cliché love ballods and various Bruce Springsteen songs, and walk (hands in back-pockets) shamelessly through the mall.

I wanted to love that taco van every single day.

God bless that taco van.

Yum(x3).

It's unfortunate my 'I-love-this' face is so unflattering.

Merry Christmas eve-eve!

californiYEAH.

Story time:
This summer me and my friend Kylie drove our little selves on down to San Diego, California (yes, it was the longest trip ever and yes, Bubba Sparxx began to sound good after 27 hours in the car) to move her in for college. Our friend Morgan met us there (she was conveniently sick the day of our driving departure and flew down 27 hours later), and we had a gay ol’ time eating Pinkberry, watching girl-movies, and going to the beach despite our obvious pooches.
But I missed my sig-o!
So I called him.
Oh, we had a great chat. We began to chat about politics (Sarah Palin seriously looks like his aunt!), the Kardashian family, and other controversial topics.
Then! Then nature called, and it called hard. It was as if my body had a really annoying ring tone that I had to answer to, in fear that everyone else in Nordstrom’s would hear my Katy Perry ringtone…again.
I could feel that I was about to drop a deuce, and needed to IMMEDIATELY! So, I played pickle in my mind about whether I should a. Stop the convo, b. Ignore my body or c. take action AND talk. I wondered if I could pull it off.
My mind answered: YES!
So, I began shmooing. And talking. Simultaneously. At first it was fine, I even scoffed to myself about my multitasking abilities–looking at myself in my white top and white velour sweatpants, ponytail awry thinking about the humor of the whole situation. It’s like I was playing a trick on him. Ha!
Then…
Then it got loud. Very loud. Very out of hand.
So he asked: ‘Brooke, are you going to the bathroom? I honestly don’t care but…you should tell me.’
And I answered: ‘No! Ohmigawd, I HATTEEE when people do stuff like that. It’s disgusting…like you are on the phone with the person and they have the audacity to POOP! Gross! I would NEVER do that to you.’
…and I ranted like that for a solid 3 minutes.
THEN!
Then, I mindlessly flushed the toilet.
Thus confirming I had been pooping, loudly, and talking.
He laughed for a solid…ever.
I died for a solid..ever.
We concluded that it was a good thing that I was so relaxed talking to him that I could let ‘er fly.
…we’ve commonly been compared to the Kennedy’s (because we’re so classy).
Or something?

Observe.

cold, cold day.

 I saw ‘The Town’ for the second time in theaters. It is by far one of the best movies I have seen in a long, long time and really makes me want to get with a scruffy-yet-sensitive criminal, is that a bad thing? Probably.

yogurt.

Yogurt is such a strange word.
I’m almost done with college applications, hoorayoodle. And when I saw applications, I mean application–that is not plural business. I am basically, and by basically I mean definitely, banking on one college and one college only: good ol’ BYU. But I feel so grown’d up working on it! I feel like after it is submitted, I can truly begin my sluggish senior year.
Though it has been quite sluggish. Yesterday I took two naps.
But I love this weather! It lets me dress like a Brit, which is what I love. Today I wore skinny jeans, tall boots, a chunky cable-knit sweater, a scarf, and a big trench coat.