My moustache is outta control

Oh Arizona...

I went shooting.  I shot beer bottles with a 22 something and a cricket (?)  and a pistol.  My ears were basically bleeding because apparently you are supposed to wear protective ear gear.  But I didn't know that!

Then I rode a horse.  I'm not a horse person.  They are big, much bigger then me.  And its like you are supposed to tell them where to go and you're on their back, kicking them to go faster.  All I'm saying is that if I was being ridden, I would just revolt one day and trample my rider.  I would live my life as a free horse.  So there is a trust issue for me.  They will just get sick of people telling them what to do and it will be when I am clutching the rope trying not to fall when they do that.  Because they can smell fear (or is that another animal?)  Anyways, I tried to be a horse whisperer.  By literally whispering to my horse.  Sweet-nothings, complimenting her mane and her stride, telling her she can do whatever she wants, I won't be the boss of her.  We aren't exactly friends but I also came out alive so don't go scoffing at my method.

Of course my grandmother and grandfather are excellent cooks.  So is aunt jennifer and my three uncles. Oh cousins.  Amusing and loud the weekend was full of memories being made and a perfectly perfect thanksgiving.  And I'm thankful for that.  Also the Cal bears won against ASU.

I've gone and r-u-n-d-o-f-t!

That is all

I disagree. If you snooze, you win. Always.

I know. It's been rough.  But I've come back and decided to make a raging comeback...


So I started the week off with an embarrassing thing.  It was my facebook status.  Did you know that you can personalize a status so that certain people can't find it?  Just found that out.  Not that I really have anything to hide but it's terrible that I can't just let people know that I say hilariously embarrassing things every other day.  The moral of the story is, if you have something slightly inappropriate to say, block your mother and grandmother.  They are always ruining my slightly inappropriate status'.:


wore a CAL sweater to the gym today with red shorts. A guy commented on my disloyalty to Utah. I pointed out my shorts are red like utah colors, then said "and my bottom half is the most important part anyways". So please, somebody lock me up and throw away the key because I say the worst things unintentionally*


It wasn't said to be dirty.  The point is, I had no idea what I was saying and the moment it came out of my lips I wanted to eat the words back up and then stuff them deep down and never say anything remotely similar again.  But I'm flawed, my forehead is breaking out (it's like hello puberty this should have happened 5 years ago.  I'm twenty!) and sometimes I scratch my nail polish off like a meth addict scratches themselves when then need more crack.  (Are they the same drug?  I've never known).  


*disclaimer: The thought was not dirty.  It was this very odd moment of maternal instinct.  I'm not sure why it was the thought that popped into my head but the idea that the bottom area is in charge of making babies and therefore life was for some reason my first thought when I was talking about my shorts.  I felt the need to point out to this male that I can carry babies and he can't.


Anyways, so all this weird stuff happened Monday and Tuesday.  Kaulin was in the same building as a shooter and I sort of threw a hissy fit when I found out.  Make no mistake, I'm the type of person that if anything had happened to him, I would hatch a very extensive "Count of Monte Cristo" like plot and seek out revenge.  That shooter would have a knife in his throat after I have finished my plan.  Sorry.  I watch Dexter sometimes.  


It got me thinking, life.  It's crazy. So I thought of some oddly deep thoughts about life:

I am not only trusted with a human life, but it’s MY human life. It is arguably the most important human life of all and I am in charge of not killing it?  How am I in charge of KEEPING MYSELF ALIVE? Can’t I appoint someone to do this for me? Also, because the topic of "how important the bottom half of me is" was vaguely in my mind I have to point out- I can’t believe I’m just allowed to walk around with these ovaries and a functioning uterus. Probably. Probably functioning.  I mean one day, I will be in charge of making a baby.  YIKES.  Also, gross.  Rest assured, this is a long time off.  


To send off I thought I should let you all enjoy my lovely text messages from my gal pal Karamea (who is currently really into Korean soap operas) :
Kara: "Korean insults are so great! They always talk about killing each other on these dramas haha"
Me: "Whaa?? I do that all the  time!!! My go to is "imma stab you in the neck with a steak knife'  I like to think I could do it too"
Kara: "Hahaha i need to incorporate that in my life!"
Me: "I mean a guy won't exactly ask you for a second date sometimes... but that might be the point"
Kara: "Hahaha yah they always say that to their bf or gfs.Oh yeah, this weekend my mum went to the jewelry shop to get her ring cleaned and in the meantime I tried on wedding rings hahaha"
Me: "Oh man I always glance over in a mall or department store hoping ill find the perfect ring.  But its like finding my perfect man.  It's probably gonna take a while and a lot more effort.".... right after I sent that one I wrote: "Wow did I really just do that? I am so freakin good at metaphors i shock myself sometimes!"
Kara: "Hahaha that is so brilliant. Come back to me!"


We laugh a lot.  We then proceeded to talk about missions and moving to London and Korea.  Oh also, best plan ever:
Kara marries a Korean prince, I marry the eligible Prince of England and we get together every week and have fabulous parties and be fabulous princesses.  It's our life goal right now.  Gonna make it happen!

There is too much water under the thingy, or whatever

...nuff said

amiright target demographic??

I'm not gonna pretend this week was any better then last week.


When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  I read that on a can of lemonade once.  I think it applies to life.


So when faced with Halloween and no costume, I took a leaf out of Ron Swanson's book.  I have now, one Halloween Costume.  It's my costume.  My Halloween Costume.  No more brainstorming, getting cute, trying to find a non-slutty outfit.  Designated Halloween Costume: Rosie the Riveter. 

This is from last year.  I didn't even bother taking pictures this year.  It was a lame dance.  I looked awesome. Take my word for it.

School was lame.  Funny how that happens.

So I got invited to something, to be honest the story only works if you are also in the dark about it.  David texts me and invited me "somewhere".  So I put on a flannel shirt and smokey eye my eyes... going for a sexy farm-girl look.  I'm always shooting for random looks.  Then we get to another girls house and David is snooping around like he does since he has epic ADD, and she is on the phone and reminds everyone to bring their ID.  Ah ha!  David was unaware that this place needed ID, even though he knew it was a bar (just so everyone knows, it was just to hang out, no alcoholic drinking was going to be involved.  *I assume.)  

*You know what they say when you assume though....  Maybe Google it, because I'm not entirely confident I have the phrase right.

I never felt so unwanted.  False, I've felt a lot more unwanted but let's not talk about my deep-seated insecurities when I have a funny punch-line waiting... So David has to drive me home and I started to wonder:  since when did I get so YOUNG??  Answer: the day I came out of my mother.  Gross.  But you laughed so it was worth it.

Here comes Saturday... Full Blown snow.  Not the lame, rainy, hail-y, cold but icy snow.  Snow on my poor, frost-bitten truck and I do not intend on going outside.  I'm not emotionally ready for a snow day.

So I do homework, read, clean, take a shower and walk around my apartment in my robe.  I wear my robe about 90% of the time that I am home.  My robe or my Cheetos pajamas.  And I have busy roommates so it's very rarely a problem.  Well today, unaware that my roommate was home, I walked out to get some more water... in my big-blue-made-for-men robe.   

Let's just say I am glad I am not in a "New Girl" (great show, you should check it out) situation.  Cuz if it had been boy roommates, I would have been super embarrassed.  As it was, I accepted the confused look I got and instead distracted my roommate with my witty banter, which can get me out of literally anything.  Besides a snow day.  I'm mostly sure.

Never underestimate me. I'm complex, like a fine Italian wine or maybe a Chinese finger trap.

Also:  No-Shave November.  So excited.  Women can participate too right?

Get Better Schwenke!