dear couple...

dear couple sitting across from me at the library,

first off, hello. how rude of me to not introduce myself! i mean, we are sitting but three feet from each other. so close that i could accidentally play footsie with one of you if i decided to move my legs from the curled up ball they are currently in. i feel like if i tried i could probably touch you…

…nope, too much of a stretch. and you thought i was reaching for my smart water, ha!

anyways, my name is brooke. the girl you two decided to victimize with all your lovey-dovey studying. i still can’t quite grapple why you decided to sit at the same table as me. it is like we are on a date or something! well, maybe not a date. because that would be weird. i am clearly the third wheel in this situation unless i can reach out and touch…

…nope, still too far.

the hour we have spent together, sitting right across from each other, has been very telling. i feel like i have watched your relationship evolve. well, i have watched your casual backscratch evolve into a sensual (borderline obscene) massage session. i’m going to put a stop sign on the lower back lingering right now, mr. stripey t-shirt man.

…and there you go again, really? you seem to be fond of a massage technique resembling someone typing on the keyboard, mr. stripey t-shirt man.

also, what exactly are you studying, pink v-neck girl? you have been staring at your computer screen not typing anything for the past fourty-five minutes while loverboy types away rhythmically at your back.

…then again, i haven’t really done anything in this past hour either. besides stare at you guys. are you noticing me staring at you?

…i think you might be.

well, best of luck on your studies? or something? or whatever exactly you are doing?

xoxo brooke

p.s. after multiple attempts at sneakily taking a picture, i had to give up. the couple shall remain anonymous, i suppose.

brags.

 

this year i could have been a vegetable prepper at a catering company, a line server at zupa’s, a cashier at wendy’s, a bathroom janitorial lady at heleman halls, a customer service assistant at nordstrom’s and even a ibc language recruiting lad at some random company…but i’m not. after applying to 2,342 jobs, i can now say that i am a production assistant at byu broadcasting! yippity pippity!

it was actually a sick joke. i have applied to 2,342 places all year-long and no one would ever call me back. on sunday, i was on the brink of discouragement and tears over my long-term state of unemployment and bleak financial future. i decided to (…sappy time) say a quick little prayer that SOMEONE would be interested in hiring me.

and hallelujah!

this fine monday morning, i woke up to a voicemail on my phone from the broadcasting place saying that they were interested in hiring me. then when i was calling him back, another job i had applied for called me and asked if they could schedule an interview. then! as i was checking my calendar to find a time that would work out, i got an email from another company offering me the job.

i was so stressed out and overstimulated i couldn’t even be grateful. but i am now. and i have a job! today has been better than three trillion mcdonald’s ice cream cones.

more to come about this later. for now, i must sleep! because i have WORK tomorrow (well…kind of. i just have to fill out paper work but, you know)!

friday night ramblings.

 

(today is going to be a no-caps night; why am i so indecisive?)

the first half of my day was filled with pure academia (i realize this is the wrong use of the word, but it’s a no-caps kind of night) and slight pretentiousness. i started off my day with my morning jog (lie: i don’t jog enough to have a ‘morning jog’)(lie: …i never jog)(lie: i hardly jogged; i mostly just admired my friends jogging. they’re so spry!) around the temple (…at least i think it was the temple…i was crying so hard from my sore legs/stomach/arms/pride that i didn’t even look up).

following my morning jog (lie…), i wandered to the bean museum (pretentious!) with my anthropology class. to my dismay, it is not filled with beans. rather it’s filled with rad stuffed animals (it reminded me of kirk’s basement on the ali’s season of the bachelorette; his dang taxidermist dad ruined it for him!) and subtle smells of puke.

lovely.

i then dined at the museum of art cafe (pretentious!) with some friends and ate chilled raspberry soup (glorified danimals yogurt) amongst hipsters in stripey tee shirts (pretentious!).

following my m.o.a. meal, i dragged myself into the library and had the most awkward conversation ever with my peer mentor where i realized we never made eye contact once. or talked about anything regarding school. or even introduced ourselves.

(side note: while in the library, i stood behind this very portly woman who was laughing so vehemently that i began to fear she would never stop; that i would be standing there till infinity and beyond, listening to her chuckle)

i ended my day at a back-to-school bash at a dance club in provotown where i realized that my social life is killing my social life. to explain, the more i go out, the less i go out. to explain, when i dance, i scare people.

brandon davies was there. being all moral and stuff?

the end.

sushi and t.m.i.

A wise man once said that when you have nothing else to talk about, you talk about the current condition of your insides:

 

Currently there is a full-blown battle going on inside of my stomach. The sushi I ate today is having a terribly animated argument with the raspberry-lemon sherbet who is also in a quarrel with the dried apricots that are in the midst of a large altercation with the honey-ham slices.

I think tonight is probably the best night to make some new friends in the community bathroom?

Speaking of bathrooms(my favorite segue!)(I need to stop trying to purposely bring up bathrooms so I can share my 1,000 bathroom stories)(…especially around the opposite gender…), I have a story! Once upon a time I played basketball. I should probably use the term ‘played’ loosely; I mostly just cheered and clapped and distracted people at practice. But anyways, I played basketball.

Before every game, I would imagine all the possible ways I could embarrass myself in front of the large crowd(okay, the few supportive parents) that came and watched our game, tantalized by our high scores and ingenious plays. But anyways, I would imagine all these ways!

Thinking about potentially airballing/getting overly dike-y/dying on the court would make me so nervous before the games that I would have to speed walk/booty clench all the way over to the bathrooms to relieve my…nerves.

One particular game was no different from the others. Five minutes before tip-off, my brain started swarming with these humiliating hypothetical situations and I sprint-clenched my way over to the ladies’ room.

When I walked in a did a little silent yip in my head because there was no one else in there. I decided to take the middle stall, naturally, and cozied(not a word?) on down into the seat to…relieve.

My nerves were especially loud that game but, who cares, I was alone for Pete’s sake!

All of a sudden(!!!), the doors squeaked and two pairs of overly-tanned legs walked in right as my nerves were about to reach maximum…relief.

I was in full panic mode! What was I to do? I had to finish! I couldn’t just stop!

I folded my legs up unto the toilet seat so that they couldn’t see me and watched through the crack as they made their way to the toilets beside me, waited for them to get situated…and then I let my nerves fly. Over and over and over again.

The toilets flushed and the two girls walked out, gave each other the you-are-disgusting-I-can’t-believe-you-just-did-that face, and walked out in silence as I sat there, relieved.

I think I might have ruined their friendship?

…and probably your night.

Sushi and T.M.I…such a lethal combination.

things i want my sisters to know...

“Things will work out. Keep trying. Be believing. Don’t get discouraged. Things will work out.”
— Gordon B. Hinckley

presh-diddly-squat.

The cute little lovestruck couples all over Provotown are really toying with my heart strings.

awko taco wrap-up.

 

(left: a vow I made with a friend on a Hawaiian adventure to correspond purely in picture mail…sometimes I have to get creative; right: I got a Twitter and I’m a Tweet-machine…follow me!)

the first week of school was a double-stuffed, supreme awko taco with extra awko on the side. seriously.

let’s reflect:

1. a visit to the doctor’s office that led me to having to pee in a cup…and on my hand…and accidentally expose myself to the BYU Health Services laboratory via pee-sample drop-box window…oops.
2. realizing that my goals and aspirations for life really aren’t that spectacular and deciding to, instead, lie to everyone in my ward and tell them that I wanted to be a neurosurgeon (insta-respect!) only to be asked what classes I was taking for the per-requisites (‘uhh…writing…communications…spinning class?…i’m not a neuroscience major…’)
3. almost dying in a cave in Provo due to long, exhausting girl rants with my lady friends.
4. deciding to listen to Marvin Gaye Pandora station while on the temple grounds and quickly realizing that I was blasting ‘Sexual Healing.’
5. starting my Sunday and potential hall mates off with an extremely loud explicative when I realized my alarm hadn’t gone off. hiiiii chipman hall-ers!
6. spinning class and announcing all-too loudly that the bike was ‘killing my Mosman Multiplier!’
7. grabbing my go-to shirt (a denim button up a la Walmart) and my go-to pants (denim boyfriend jeans) while hurrying off to class in the morning and realizing that I was a walking denim catastrophe.
8. dancing with married men in my Social Western dance class (why did I sign up for this class, exactly? answer: an excuse to wear my purple cowboy boots and have the mere chance of meeting a manly man like Garrett Hedlund in ‘Country Strong’)–trying to remember the words to Cotton-Eyed Joe while attempting to not graze hips with my happily wedded dance partner while simultaneously shooting his wife loving, ‘don’t be mad at me! I’m an innocent freshman that wears a rainbow retainer to bed and doesn’t always shave my ankles!’ looks.
9. looking around in my anthropology class of 7,342 people and realizing that a girl that I creepishly Facebook stalked once upon a time was sitting right in front of me…(that class is so big that no one would notice if I never came…or didn’t wear pants! the thought!)
10. bragging three times to the same friend about how somehow had told me my voice sounded like Amanda Bynes (I was just so excited!)

…awko taco.