Going America all over your aces

Speaking of 4th of July, is anyone else tickled pink that this holiday is right around the corner? I know I am! In fact, I have begun celebrating already. This morning I sang the national anthem before I got out of bed. And then I saluted the ginormous flag that is waving outside of the office. Boy am I patriotic or what. My brothers and I have been debating on the best way to celebrate the 4th since my parents have wisely decided to go out of the town, and, more importantly, they are taking the babies with them. Is anyone throwing a wildly awesome party that you want to invite me to? I am also willing to participate in a tasteful reenactment of the American Revolution. But only if you have a gun I can shoot or boxes of tea I can throw off a boat.

About this time a few years ago I was living in London and I happened to run into an American-loving Brit on the tube. "It's a shame that I met you today and not yesterday," he told me. I asked him why that was, and he said "I have some Yank friends and every year I throw a 4th of July party at my manor." Manor. Who actually lives on a manor? He does, apparantly. And I was sad to have missed that awesome firework display given by a Brit to celebrate a war that they lost.

Speaking of fireworks, does anyone not like them? Because if you don't, I think that you are either 1.) Blind, or 2). Dead inside. So besides watching lights blow up in the sky and being in a Revolution reenactment, my last goal is to get some action this weekend. Don't judge me! Trust me you guys, it has been too long. And what better time to get action than on the celebration of the greatest nation EVER?! I knew you would see it my way. So when you call me to invite me to your awesome party, be warned that I'm bringing my A-game with me.

One small mistake is all it takes

Today's historical blunder award goes to General George Armstrong Custer, a smart (or not so smart) military officer who bravely (or not so bravely) fought in the Battle of Little Bighorn exactly 132 years ago. The man who within one hour managed to get his whole cavalry slaughtered by Injuns. Congrats Custer!

Don't feel too down though, General. I think the purpose of your life was to serve as a warning to others.

On the Up-Swing

I feel it is only right to rescind my statements and bitter tones from the last post, as I have now realized why I moved back home: the beach. HELLO. Why didn't I think of it before? And who doesn't love the beach? Except besides M.Bell, but he always was a little odd. The rest of us normal people can't get enough of the sun & surf. Sand in our hair and teeth means nothing to us. Sunburns are a badge of honor.

It's a shame that I have to have a full-time job so that I can't go everyday. I thought about being a full-time beach bum, because that could be a full-time job. Alas, that is one dream that won't ever come true. Thank goodness for the heat on saturday, because it drove us all westward. I think it was the first time in 6 years where the water was above 70 degrees and everyone was swimming in it without wetsuits. Miraculous.

Another great thing about being back: Tri-tip. If you like meat and have never had this, or even if you don't like meat, you just haven't grasped how fulfilling being a human can be.

In other news: I have discovered I am in love with SmartWater, and will probably go buy a case-load of it at Costco today. So what if it sits in a landfill forever - it gives me electrolytes so I think it's worth it. Plus, it tastes great. And to you nay-sayers that are convinced water has no taste, SmartWater will prove you wrong. In addition, I am bringing back the semi-colon.

We've only just begun

Transitioning to:

• New job where boss talks to me like I am an idiot.
• Very UN-feg-sui desk that Ms. Maternity-leave left for me.
• New ward where there are real winners. Example: Permafry (the man who's brain is fried from years of hard-core drugs), God's Gift (who I agreed to go out with until I remembered I don't date guys with fan clubs), Creepy Stalker (actually there are two!), Slave driver (read: mom), and Mean Girls.

Why did I move back again?

Parting is such sweet sorrow

Today is my last official day in Provo. Am I happy or sad or freaked out? You decide, because I sure can't. I have been itching to leave for months, and now that the time has arrived I want to throw myself on the floor, kick my feet and pound my fists while someone forcibly drags me away. How did this happen? Why did I graduate? I'm not ready yet!

So, in an Ode to the great few years BYU gave me, here are some of the things I will miss the most:

1. Hang outs with the gang. This includes the spectrum from late nights of stephen, emma and jeff throwing around French phrases while rich and lisha banter about something, Mike's records and "jamming", porch sitting, Redbox and papusas.

2. Living with the cousins. Always an adventure.

2. Dr. Murdock's lectures and interesting China tidbits. If only he were 20 years younger and single...

3. The dollar theater. Which is now no longer a dollar. I almost feel ripped off when I go, until I remember that I can see a movie in a theater for $1.25.

4. Cafe Rio. Cliche? Whatever!

5. The job that takes me 2.5 minutes to walk to. And a boss who lets me take as much vacation time as I want. And gives me lollipops.

6. BYU campus, because it's chalk-full of interesting things. Like human specimens to observe, a free International Cinema, a great library and - who can forget - the Medieval club! Which I should have joined.

7. Our parties. Which were off. the. hook.

8. The really high wages. NOT.

9. Multiple guys riding on one scooter.

10. Not getting a calling until the last month of the semester.

And this is just the tip of the ice berg. Provo holds something for everyone - even the 32 year olds who still go to sophomore parties and live in Slate Canyon together. No wonder Brigham Young said "Go to Provo or go to Hell." Well stated Brigham.

Time for the next adventure, or so say my "peers" anyway! Thanks Mike for leading the way. And for Wood#1 and Wood #2 for leaving this summer also, so I don't feel left out. L, I hope you move to L.A.

So long P-town! It's been real.

When All You Hear is "Modest is Hottest"

It's that time of year again. The merriment can be felt all over campus. The excitement is almost tangible! Giggles and smiles and arm-wrestling all over the place. There is also an increase in capped sleeved tees, cargo shorts and unflattering pleated Target skirts which can mean only one thing...

That's right - the time has arrived when BYU campus is almost cleared of students and infested with EFYers. I noticed this a couple weeks ago while on my way to pick up a new book at the library. There were little people running around everywhere! The quad looked like how I picture Woodstock - except cleaner and I never got a whiff of weed. And then I walked into the library and I thought I had been transported to a ghost town. Even the Asian section, known to me for their very loud Asian girls who, when I asked if they knew how to whisper, asked "Whispa?" was eerily silent.

My annoyance at obnoxious Asians has been replaced by an annoyance for the EFYers. Because let's be honest - I am always annoyed at something. So I decided to do what I do best: Gloat and be pretentious. I put on my cutest pink dress, new lipstick and hot new heels and strutted around campus. I laughed inside at all the teens going through their awkward stages, because I certainly never went through one. I had a few girls compliment my ensemble, and I graciously smirked. I had a few boys smile at me, so I pulled down my sunglasses and winked. It was almost like a service project. And I felt like I was getting away with something because I didn't have to wear a keychain-nametag and I got to pass the invisible barrier that the EFY Counselor-Sentinels were blockading. I pranced right by them like a royal while the little peasants couldn't. I can't read minds that well, but I was definitely getting the "I wish I were like her" vibe. Can I help it if I am so fab?

I guess this has shown an unimpressive side of me, but at least I am being honest. And really, if you are my friend and reading this then you 1) Already knew this is something I do sometimes, and 2) Probably do it yourself, which is why we are friends in the first place. So here's to a harmless way of blowing out someones candle to make yours brighter.

In Character

Though I am praying every night that the rumors are groundless, I am horrified none the less. Apparently the film adaptation of Atlas Shrugged is in pre-production, and the main star is none other than the infamous Angelina Jolie.

I just vomited again.

Not only do I shudder at the thought on principle, but... I had really planned on the role being played by myself! I would make a PERFECT Dagny Taggart. I think I would be more of a gracious loser if it was anyone other than Jolie, except for maybe Lindsay Lohan. I was willing to die my hair darker for this part. Plus, I am a-emotional and really love hard-core capitalism, unlike some other people (read: Jolie). I feel like I am really perfect for this role, but according to the casting director I am not "glamorous enough," whatever that means.

Here are some other roles I was right for but didn't get:


Marie Antoinette in Marie Antoinette (Kirsten Dunst had the "slut factor.")

Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice (Kiera Knightly "just fit better.")

Amelie in Amelie (I was "not French.")

Maximus in Gladiator (technically a "man's role.")

Jane Austen in Becoming Jane (producers wanted a "big name.")

Michael Corleone in The Godfather (I wasn't "believable enough.")

Penelope in Penelope (I couldn't "pull off" a pig nose.)

The Girl in Once (I wasn't "musical.")


Your loss, Hollywood. Your loss.