I smish I may, I smish I might

This was my ornament circa 1995. FROSTY THE SNOWMAN IN A SWING. Was I the envy of every kid on the block? No.

In approximately one week and 11-ish hours, I will have yet another birthday. And it will be 2016. Yuck!

To celebrate, I have conjured up some alternate names for "The Year 2015." Y'all ready for this?! (*Space Jam song should be playing somewhere nearby, at least that's what I rigged this post to do for all of you)

The Year McKenzie Cried Every Time She Saw a Baby Animal And/Or Looked At Her Bank Account.

visual aid 1: when I see a comma in my bank account 

The Year McKenzie Lost Her Water Bottle On the Tracks of the London Underground & That Was the #1 Story She Told Everyone About Europe. A Frapping Water Bottle.

The Year McKenzie Dumped Salt On Everything, Even Pizza. Hey, Do You Guys Hear That? That Silence? It's the Sound of My Heart Stopping. 

The Year McKenzie Learned to Do a Headstand On One of the Most Horrible Days On Record, and Then Followed That One Headstand With Fifty, And Then Got a Migraine, Punctuating That Most Horrible Day With A Migraine, Great. 

The Year McKenzie Learned The Difference Between Heartburn and Bubble Guts, JK She Already Knew This, She Just (Accidentally) Tested It By Ingesting Way Too Much Orange Juice.

The Year At Least Five Strangers Told McKenzie Her Calf Muscles Were *Quote  "Nice" *Close Quote*

And now, for the 2015 Stats Report, since you all obviously care (you're still reading this, aren't you?)

• Number of times puked: four
• Number of times puked while 20,000 feet up in the air: four (what do you know!)
• Number of hoodies purchased: not telling
• Number of cats I hugged but received no love in return: wait I don't want to talk about this
• Number of new friends made via the internet/horrible hikes: like FIFTY and I love you all, MUAH!
• Number of times I made fun of Nicolas Cage: probably 12 million. And then someone would send me one of THESE almost immediately (they haunt me and it's karma and I know it): 

visual aid 2: someone has to stop this. right now. stop right now.

• Number of times re-downloaded/then deleted/then downloaded Tinder again while Hello Darkness, My Old Friend played in the background: three (but never again, plz)
• Number of chocolate chips consumed: probably a wagonload

IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE, NERDS! This morning I was throwing away a bunch of empty garbage bags and Ellie snatched them from my hand and said "No! We could use these to play Baby Jesus in our nativity!" Bags? A pile of garbage bags????

there's no law that says you can't start telling a ghost story when a cop is shining a flashlight in your face

^^late night thoughts having nothing to do with this blog post

grandma on the far right

me in the middle looking awkward

(at Wrigley Field Circa Some Embarrassing Year)

If you are even a little bit funny, I'll probably write down the things you say and put them in a blog post someday. So watch your mouth.

I spent the last week in Washingtoregon, and thus, spent a lot of time with my grandma, who is one of the more quotable humans on this planet. I wish I had started recording things she said earlier, but at least I got this gravy (I looked up other words for "gems" on slang dictionary dot com, and I kind of regret it).

Disclaimer: this post is not meant to make fun. My grandma is seriously one of my favorite people and I love her dearly. And she's hilarious without trying.

happy monday, ya animals


"What's that mark that black babies have? Mongolian...Mongolian Grill. No, it's not that. But it's like Mongolian Grill." (she was close...it's called a Mongolian Spot. you can google it. Mongolian Grill=a tasty restaurant)

"I always wake up in the night and that's when I read the scriptures. Then I listen to conference talks which always puts me to sleep."

"Ok after swimming you can go sit on the front yard with the babies. But that's boring."

"You should date (insert man's name here). Wait, maybe not. He's like 10 years older than you. But he's a nice guy. But he's not as good looking as (man's brother)."

"I wonder what that minion show is about. Doesn't look very good. It has a girl with a bikini in it."

"You went to the UK?? I didn't know people were allowed to go there now."
"When weren't we allowed to go there?"
"Well it used to be Russia, you know."

"It's too bad you and (guy's name) are cousins...."
"Uhhh Grandma!"

"When was the last time you had a fast food job?"
"In between semesters in college."
"And that one boy asked you out! Whatever happened with him?"
"....."

"Ahh! There's earwigs all over these flowers. Your mom would hate this. She hates creepy stuff. *pondering for a moment* Well, okay, who doesn't?"

"Wow she sure looks good [weight wise]. When she said she was going to boot camp I honestly did not know what that meant."

"Those pants you're wearing are sure cute. (person) has these striped pants that make her look like she just got out of prison."

grandma's wall decor

alwals tell the truth

this post is sponsored by Back Rub Bribery©

Ellie asked me to proofread one of her "story boards" for school, which I guess is a chapter in a story she's writing. I have no idea what the title is, so feel free to conjure up your own in your imaginings. I laughed out loud about sixty times while reading it (yes, that is hyperbole, for once) and then asked her if I could publish it. She wailed "No, no, noooooo!" but with a smile on her face...? Talk about a confusing woman. So I bribed her. Duh.

Disclaimer: I refrained from editing this too much, besides some commas/periods, because it's way better that way. DUH. Again. "Duh" is one of those satisfying words that just echoes when it leaps off the tongue. Y'know?

Lessons in Making Slang Sound Beautiful: by McKenzie.

***

After six months, Bryan finally left juvie (translation: juvenile detention). He went strait to the place Cara was usually at. 

"She's sleeping," Bryan said. "This is my big chance. But I'm not prepared at all. My breath stinks."

Bryan hurried home very quickly. He didn't want to miss his big chance. But by the time he came back, she was already up. 

"DANGIT!" he shouted. "I missed my big chance! Wait a second...I'll kiss her at night! Sure she'll be asleep by then!"

Sure enough, Bryan was right. 

He used his brother's cologne so he smelled fabulous. He knelt down and started to pucker his lips. Every second he got closer, he felt like throwing up. He ate 10 tuna sandwiches half an hour ago! (see fig 1)

But he couldn't give up on his dream right now.

So he hurried and kissed her. But he kind of did it quick. 

"Aaaaaaaaa" Cara said. "Why would you throw up on me, you idiot!" 

"Sorry," he said nervously. "Bye!" He went running.

A couple days later from the throw-up accident, Bryan went up to Cara to apologize. She said it was okay and gave him a peanut butter sandwich.

"Mmm," Bryan said. "Thanks!"

"No problem," she said. "I got so much money last night because you threw up. I counted, $999,999,999,999. I bought myself a mansion. I'm rich now!" 

"What's going on with my cheeks?" Bryan asked. 

"Maybe you're allergic to peanuts," Cara said.

"How can I be allergic to peanuts??"

"Maybe because you kissed me." 

Sure enough, Cara was right. It was because he had kissed her. 

"How?" Bryan asked the doctor.

"It's because she is allergic to peanuts, so when you kissed her, she passed it onto you."

Fig 1: Bryan pigging out on tuna sandwiches under a...mobile???

***

And that, kids, is why you don't kiss. Not anybody! Ever! Otherwise you may never get to enjoy peanut butter again.

bananas should have zippers. they should. trust me.

throwback to two years ago when nothing was different 

and Ellie used my body as a trampoline

I was thinking last night, as I sometimes do, that bananas should really have zippers. Why you ask? Because, you guys. Because. Then we would no longer have to deal with touching the squishy stringy tops of bananas (or bottoms, if you're cray and you peel your bananas upside down and I have met some humans that do this, bless their souls). We wouldn't have to smash them when we peeled them open, like I always manage to do. This, of course, has nothing to do wit the fact that I like my bananas to have green tips and therefore no brown spots and therefore they are sort of hard to open in this state.

THIS IS NOT A METAPHOR OR EVEN A JOKE IT IS SERIOUS.

I should never blog after 10pm.

I moved home like a week ago and since then I have noticed that my little sister is a tad less...teenager-y. She's not quite pubescent yet but I think when I'm around she's slightly more cheerful and I like that. Being the someone that someone shorter/younger looks up to feels really good. Especially when that shorter person lectures you on dating (which she does. every.day.)

"McKenzie, did you ever kiss anybody?"
"Mmmmhmm."
"What! WHO. WHO DID YOU KISS."
"(fill in the blank obvi I'm not naming names, ew)"
"Do mom and dad know?"
*shoulder shrug emoji* *I am too old to be having this convo with my 11-yo-sister*
"Did you have a crush on them?"
"A crush? Well we were dating."
"I know but did you like them?"
"Yes I had a crush on them."
"Good because you can't just be dating you also have to have a crush."
"...."
"I almost had a crush in first grade but then I stopped myself."
*crashes car into ravine*

JK I didn't actually do that but I might as well have. It's hard to drive and laugh/cry at the same time. Also hard to drive, laugh/cry, and see out your window when you haven't gotten a car wash since 2014.

When we got home later and were assembling desserts, Ellie blurted out, "Mom, dad, did you know McKenzie kissed ___?"

Does anybody want whipped cream, orrrrrrrrr

Two thumbs up for kissing and three thumbs up for whipped cream.

gOODNIGHT.

I get why raisins are made in California now

On Saturday I was at the beach. It was incredibly hawt. I spell it like that because 1, I have a college degree and therefore I'm allowed to sound like I don't, and 2, there was a surfing competition going on and, well....it was hawt. Ya dig?

I was foolish and didn't wear a swimsuit because I wasn't planning on swimming. Look. I grew up going to the Oregon coast every summer, and nobody swims in that water unless they're wearing a full body wetsuit. But in California, people lay out on the sand and get skin cancer??? With swimsuits on. They never actually get in the water. This is a thing! Well, I got a nice sprinkle of freckles on my face and legs, and saw some dolphins, which reminded me to shave my legs later, and saw some cool surfing tricks all while getting shriveled up by the sun. Conclusion: California is an excellent place to turn grapes into raisins (it's not a metaphor).

Here is what it's like to road trip with my younger siblings. The scene is thus: we're trapped in an enclosed space for 10 hours. Ellie has to empty her bladder every hour or so. They need snacks every 20 minutes. I bring all my library books and a box of Dramamine. We play the license plate game for a measly 10 minutes until one of them cheats and the whole game goes down the tubes.

I started to write this in my phone somewhere between Nevada and California, and welp. That's all I have to say. WELP.

Bad Ideas I Have Executed & Then Immediately Regretted Thereafter

1. Eating no less than four (that's right, FOUR) whole wheat muffins on a road trip to California [this very road trip, as it turns out], far from any rest stop.
2. Jumping off of my best friend's trampoline onto a "tower" of silky pillows because I thought it would be like a waterless slip-n-slide. That was the 14th sprained ankle of my childhood and also the worst. My mother made me take crutches to church, which was just about the most humiliating thing for a 12-year-old girl. Don't forget the orthopedic socks. Er...sock. It was all wrapped up in a nice Single 5ever Package. Although nowadays if I had crutches, I'd milk it. As I mentioned in my last post, I don't get embarrassed easily.
3. Creating a Spanglish email address for myself in 10th grade which would follow me into oblivion, or at least the age of 25. My dad likes to pronounce it incredibly poorly, just so I know how foolish I look to universities and banks. "Pelly-Ree-Jo-Jo-Runner." To be clear, I'm not a male redhead and I can hardly call myself a runner. /end
4. Stalking a friend of a friend of a friend (bless the internet for giving me this capability) and then accidentally liking one of his pictures which was 58 weeks old. The fear I have of repeating this mistake is only equal to the fear I have when I'm locked out of my apartment, my bladder is full, and my keys are buried at the bottom of my purse. These fears are real and are not to be challenged.
5. Listening to the song "Taxi Driver" at least 50 times in a row so I could memorize the lyrics and impress my friends at a birthday party I was going to (you don't have to listen to it, guyz, but really, the entire song is made up of band names, so that's cool). I actually walked around the block where the party was being held like 5 times, the song on heavy rotation, until I'd burned all the words into my brain. I mean, I know the lyrics now and that's great but I can't add that to my resume. And the only memorable thing about that birthday party was the cake made of doughnuts. Bless it. 

Things we said to each other while on this trippity-trip ("we" mostly meaning Ellie):

Ellie spilled a bunch of pencil shavings all over her seat, and said to my bro: "Don't talk to me now, I'm in crisis!"

My dad was channel surfing in our motel the first night and kept landing on novelas (Spanish soap operas). He paused on an especially flamboyant one and my mom said "I can feel a swear coming on..."

We drove through a wicked rainstorm between St. George and Arizona. Most people were pulled over with their hazard lights on, but my dad kept plowing through. The lightning and thunder were so intense that at one point Ellie said "Can we please turn on a movie?! When I'm doing something other than lightning I'm like 'YAYY!'" Lightning is a verb now, you animals.

My parents were discussing where the nearest Costco was so they could get gas. Ellie chimed in from the backseat: "Hey! Hey guys we should go to Costco and get smoothies. I mean since you guys are talking about Costco."

Caleb started to spit for no reason. Well, I guess he's a 12-year-old boy, so that's reason enough. Mom said "Cal why are you spitting?" {silence} "NO SPITTING!" Familiezzzz.

Ellie, to my mother: "Mom, just put some chips in this cap." {As she extends her upside down baseball hat to my mom} 

"No. I'm not going to put food in something you'll put on your head later."

But everyone knows Ellie rarely wears hats. She basically uses them for storage purposes, the same way she's used anything with a concave opening since the age of two. 

Ellie, on the way home (we were all on our last legs, mentally, if you know what I mean): "Can we just throw Caleb out the window?" 

But really. We did have a good time. Lest you think the entire trip was like that. Just don't put us in a car for very long or we'll start muttering death threats and throwing Cheez-Its (the second thing actually did happen).

shtuff my little siblings say

Many moons ago, when I was a wee 17 year old, I had a section of my journal that I dedicated solely to the things my little broski and sister said. Because somebody had to be the Keeper of the Blackmail in our family, and I figured it might as well be me.

Some excerpts are taken from my mama's old blog, and told in her voice. Rrreeady and letzgo.

Caleb's Greatest Hits
A couple weeks ago, I picked him up from Aaronic Priesthood meetings, and he said to me, very matter-of-fact, "Kenzie, you're like the only hipster in our family. You like...have swag." I don't think he even knows what swag means, but. Okay. 

Caleb, texting me: "So are you dating Tinder now?"
Me: "Huh? Oh, Tinder isn't a person."
Caleb: "But your Instagram said something about Tinder."
Me: "Tinder is just an app that tells you what single people are in your area."
Caleb: "Oh yeah. I'm getting to that age."
Me: "You're way too young for Tinder, bucko."

Caleb, during scripture study: So God knows everything?
Dad: Yes, everything.
Caleb: So then He must've memorized the Gettysburg Address!

Caleb: So we could inherit everything God has?
Dad: Yes, everything.
Cal: So even God's fancy cars??!

In 2009
Mom: Cal, what college do you want to go to?
Caleb: The same college McKenzie is going to.
Dad: What if you could go to Harvard or Columbia in NYC on a scholarship?
Cal (thinking about it): Yeah! Then I'd live close to Pennsylvania so I could get some of those big soft pretzels!

(The following story is told from my mom's point of view, after my parents let the kids watch a particularly terrifying episode of Planet Earth. A.K.A. animals eating other animals. Wolves, to be exact)

"Caleb has been fixated on the topic of wolves ever since. When Caleb gets focused it is near impossible to pry his little mind off of a topic.

Every day since then Scott and I have entertained not a few conversations on the subject.
Here are a few of my favorites to date.

Upon hitting his head on a bench at school last week he declared to his father. "The back of my head feels funny. Like a wolf bite."

And yet another....
"Mom, what if wolves came into our house?" To which I replied,"Cal there are no wolves in this area."
"They live in Utah mom!"
"They live further north of here."
"But what if they did?"
"The only reason a wolf would get all the way down to our neighborhood would be if he was hungry and couldn't find any food between here and were he lives hundreds of miles away."
"What if he was hungry?"
Me (getting a little exasperated): "Cal the only way a wolf could come in our door is if we let him in. If I can manage to keep our dog out of the house I think I can keep a wolf out."
"But wolves are stronger than our dog."
Sigh. "Honey, that is just so unlikely. I am 42 years old and I have never known anyone who had a wolf come into their house."
"I bet grandpa knows someone who did."

And tonight's was a highlight as well. Caleb had a soda he had picked up at the school carnival on Friday which he was saving. After opening it up and taking a sip he exclaimed, "This Sprite is very spritey! I don't like it!" 

I replied, "Yeah, soda has carbonation in it and that's what makes it so fizzy. I don't like it much either."

"Mom, what if you poured Sprite down a wolves' mouth?"
"I don't know Cal what if?" (Scott has started laughing. I am not laughing. I have had perhaps 50 versions of this conversation and the humor is lost on me)
To which Caleb replied, "If you made a wolf drink Sprite would it kill him? You know the carbonation?"
"I don't know son. I don't think anyone has tried to give a wolf Sprite."

Caleb, whilst riding in the car: What the heck, Ellie! (but he didn't say heck)
Parents: Cal, heck is a swear word. 
Caleb: Oh. Well can I say 'sweet sister Francis' then?

Ellie: "Zack says he's gonna marry me when I grow up."
Mom:" He did ?!"
Ellie: "Yeah, he says when I get big we're getting married."
Caleb:"When I get big I want a yellow Mustang. How much will that cost me?"
Dad: "About $32,000"
Cal:"Can I start working for you and Mom so I can have enough money to buy my car now? I am tired of going in the slow lane."
Dad:" Cal, how old do you have to be to drive a car?' 
Cal: "16. Well, if you guys pay me for doing extra chores I could have enough." 
Mom:"Son we would have to give you over $3,000 a year for you to make enough." 
Cal:"Well, can you please start doing that?" 
Mom: "No." 
Cal:"I want to start a lemonade stand tomorrow. Can you and Dad buy me some lemonade so I can sell it?"

Ellie's Filterless Mind
Ellie, 2 weeks ago (no context...but then again I never get context): "Kenzie, I can't believe you're not butter."

Ellie: "Mom. If you put a rubber band in your mouth what will happen?"
Mom: "You might choke."
Ellie: "Yeah, and then I would go to sleep."
Mom: "No you wouldn't go to sleep, but you might stop breathing and then you could die."
Ellie: "Jesus died"
Me: "Yes, but he didn't choke on a rubber-band."
Ellie: "Yeah, Jesus knows how to eat good food."

(As told by my mom) Once when doing the laundry Ellie asked me what a certain article of clothing was. I explained that it was for women. She concluded that this meant that the article itself was in-fact called "A Woman" and that you wear it on "your Womans." [Writer's Sidenote: my dad only furthered this delusion by also calling them "Womans"]. Sunday I took the kids over to the young-adult ward to hear their dad speak. We sat next to McKenzie. In the middle of his talk Ellie exclaimed "Your womans are HUGE!" I consoled my eldest daughter by telling her that no one else knows what Ellie means. Until now. Sorry.

A few months ago, at the breakfast table:
Cal: Kenzie, did you have a boyfriend once?
Ellie: Yeah, did you?
Me: Umm yes.
Caleb: do you have one now?
Me: no.
Ellie: but you've had one before?! is he your EX boyfriend now?
Me: can we change the subject?
Ellie: have you ever talked to a hippopotamus before?

Ellie: Do you have an imaginary friend?
Me: No...do you?
Ellie: Yeah. She calls herself Rosa Parks.

Ellie, to moi: When you get married I'm totally going to take your bedroom. [pause] So get a date!

Ellie: Could a zero-year-old do karate?
Caleb: With God's power!

Me: The remote is over here if you want it.
Ellie: Thank you for saving my life.

Ellie: Mom's favorite ride at Disneyland is the one with the pirates.
Me: That's my favorite too!
Ellie: Wanna know what my favorite ride is? "The Hug Kenzie Ride."

Ellie, in family prayer while I was away at school: ...And please bless Kenzie not to get drunk. Or be rude to people.
Mom: Um....Ellie?
Ellie, opening one eye: Well, just in case!

Friday, April 10, 2009. 7:40 a.m.

Ellie: Why is it Easter?

Mom: Because Jesus died and then he came out of the tomb

Ellie: Yeah. Because somebody zapped him.

Mom: What? Did you say zapped him?

Ellie: Yeah, zapped him. Bibbity, bobbity, boo!

(When Ellie was 5 years old; as told by my mom): Yesterday morning I walked through the door after an early temple session. Ellie was waiting for me on the other side. She said,"Mom! Where did you go?" I said,"To the temple." She said,"Was Jesus there?" I said,"Yes." and then she she dropped to her knees, gave a trademark scowl of disappointment and said, "OH! I wanted to see Jesus!"

And, for the finale, a story Ellie wrote about Griffey, our dog, when she was a baby (still is...but, you know):

tales of Christmas past

CHRITMAS CHRITMAS! I was talking to my amigo the other day and spelled the word wrong because I Was SO esccxciTED. Sooo much excite. Much wow. Very presents.

When my broski and I were younger, we would get really into it, like all the kids everywhere in the whole universe of time and space do.

Fiiirst of all, our Grandpa Alan would take us to Toys R Us (I dunno how to make the "R" go backwards, guys, deal with it) and we would have our reams of paper, I'm talking like SCROLLS, and we'd go to town. Isaac would go to the video game aisle and write down errythang he wanted. Which was basically the whole aisle. And I'd go to...well I'd go to the Barbie aisle (duh), the art supplies aisle, the As-Seen-on-TV aisle (because of the sand play-doh, remember?!), the puzzles aisle, the basically-everything-except-the-video-game-aisle-with-the-exception-of-Pokemon. I'd end up with about 150 things on my list. Wish I was exaggerating. So then I would choose my "favorites," and would narrow it down to 140 things. I mean.

ChritMaS.

Another great tradition our familia had whilst I was a youngun was doing "Secret Santa" for a family every year. One year will stand out in my mind forever. I bet you're expecting a sentimental story, but I don't think I can pull one off after leaving that gif up there...

I have plenty of sentimental Christmas stories. Don't worry. But they will be saved for another post on another person's blog.

So it was nighttime, riiight? We had to do our Christmas-present-leaving in the dark of night, because #stealth. Also it was foggy like it usually is in Oregon in the wintertime, so it was perffect for playing ninja. But we weren't there to play ninja! Focus, McFrenzy. We were leaving presents. So we had to drop them off on the people's porch perfectly (yeah alliteration!!!), AND ring the doorbell, AND run away..??!! Ha! Can you just imagine the excitement and terror simultaneously building up inside my child heart?! It was insane in the membrane, yo. Luckily I was not appointed as the doorbell-ringer that year. I usually had a panic attack when it was my turn (I wasn't a teenager yet and so I didn't know how to doorbell ditch yet because I didn't know how to waste my time on the weekends yet). So the task fell to Isaac. Isaac, who wore socks with his slip-on athletic sandals.

Behold:

Do you see where this is going? Straight to you-know-where (#notAustralia)

So my parents were in the getaway car (or as I like to call it, the minivan). Isaac and I finished putting everything on the porch, and I started to run as fast as my midget legs would carry me, not thinking of my poor brother and the duty he had to do. I remember looking back and kind of seeing his face and I think I was trying to be sympathetic but instead I did a little somethin-somethin like:

ChrITmas.

He shrugged, rang the gong, and busted a move. I mean like lit'rally, started running, but the poor dude didn't get very far because of those socks+athletic sandals. It all happened in slow-mo. I saw his foot catch, and slip right out of those sandals, and then his gangly white body just went flying. It soared. Majestic.

Well, as you can imagine, I started to really panic then because he was completely flat on their lawn, just groaning or something, and he had just rung their doorbell so they could've come out at any moment and seen a gangly white boy on their lawn, and it definitely wasn't sun-tanning weather sooo what explanation was there???? 

"Um hai I was just...taking a walk..on Christmas Eve...and your lawn looked comfy." HA. Well we were all frozen in time as we waited for Isaac to get up, which he did in the nick of time, and joined me behind our hiding place bush, and Christmas was saved.

Whenever I think of that story to myself I just....

And last but not least, there's the Nativity. Every year it gets crazier and more ridiculous, instead of reverent and relaxing. Here's a gem from last year. Please read it. The photos just make it more glorious.

GUYS. Have a Merry Christmas! I'll probably blog again before my next birfday. Oh gash that's in 2 weeks HElp.

p.s. how many gifs is too many? also how many of you almost-swore when you scrolled down and saw this?

let's go back in time for a moment, shall we?

Will somebody please explain to me why we ever thought puka shell necklaces were so cool? Because I, for the life of me, cannot fathom why it was so awesome to own one. And yeah, just like any 13-year-old girl in the early 2000's, I felt the need to wear mine right along with my sparkly butterfly hair clips (the horror). And the boy I liked might've owned a puka shell necklace. One of those big chunky ones. Cuz, you know, those were more manly. Observe (and yes, I lit'rally googled "puka shell necklaces for men" and this came up. so, don't doubt my knowledge. I mean google's knowledge.):

look at him and his snazzy aviators and his carefully-placed bicep. he knows what's up because he has a puka shell necklace on. it makes me want to puka in the toileta.

But also, these.

you will never believe the name of the (current) article where this picture was from. "First Date Looks: 10 Clothes And Accessories For ’90s Grunge Inspired Style." No. Just no.

Now let's get real. Pokemon. Everybody loved Pokemon  right? We had friends in our ward who went to Japan sometimes (yeah, they just went to Japan, ok? Like it's an easy road trip or something. whatevs) and they would bring back special edition Japanese. Holographic. Pokemon. Cards. Hol-o-graph-ic. Code for "you are now the coolest person in the 4th grade."

Naturally, my brother and I ruled the neighborhood during those times. Ah, to be a pubescent Pokemon card-dealer again! That's how I built my street cred you know.

p.s. I don't actually have street cred. let's just clear that up right now in case I get any requests from thugs to join their gang. the answer is no.

here's a picture of me, circa 1995, just because?? oh I know how it applies--

I know how to do bicep-placement too. And I don't need a puka shell necklace to do it. 

#RIPBarney

While we're on the subject of television, let's talk about Nickelodeon. I mean, I was terrified of the dark (and vampires, creepy dolls, soul-sucking masks, and demon-possessed bloodhounds) but I still watched that dang show, "Are You Afraid of the Dark?"  And the scariest episode of all time gave me legit nightmares. Apparently it was number 16 on this list, but f'realz, look at that psycho vampire.  I was mostly afraid because we had one of those root cellars and I really thought a blood-sucking fiend would jump out and latch onto my neck meat every time I reached around the wall to turn on the light. 

Can't blame a young girl for having an active imagination, ok?

This coming from the same girl who, at age 5, was doodling "beer popsicles" on the program in church (this is not a lie, I don't like about anything, especially beer popsicles).

Imagination is powaaaah! But sometimes it keeps you up at night thinking that an ape-cray old lady with a tattoo necklace will grab your feet if you dangle them over the bed. I mean, don't tell me this doesn't make you wanna pee your pants:

Don't even TELL me. 

I debated whether or not I should talk about "them" but my 90's spirit animal said "do it" and so I'm doing it. SPICE GIRLS. They are ape-crazy, right? But we love them somehow?

let's take a moment of silence for all the people who hung this poster in their rooms. or who still have it hanging in their rooms...oh gosh. just pray. pray really hard. 

Shout out to my girl Amy, who channeled Baby Spice for many moons and dressed up as her for Halloween and had a Spice Girls folder, which I vividly remember coveting. So.

Oh yeah, speaking of the Spice Girls, have you seen this? Somebody do this with me in real life. Then we can become best friends.

Now let's talk about Disney-related things. Specifically Pocahontas-Disney-related things. I was/am/was obsessed.  Yes, my 5th birthday party was all Pocahontas-themed. My mom worked at the Disney store so we had the hook-upz. I have an entire photo album dedicated to this party, ok? If we're BFFs then you can see it. All others must fill out an application. 

I also owned a really creepy piggy bank with John Smith and Pocahontas cuddling. That was the piggy bank. Just them cuddling. And John having a coin slot in his back, which just made it look like he was having spinal surgery and in no way would he be in shape to be cuddling at that moment! You know? Okay well...Disney store: work on your coin slot placement. Thanks. There are kids out there with morbid imaginations. 

Oh yeah. Let's not forget my broski's Chief Powhatan boxers. Ah, don't you love saying that? It's like those words were all meant to be together. Chief Powhatan boxers. Now, story-time. Yet again. If you make it through this post I will give you money. Hard cash. 

a photograph of my brother and me, probably around the time the following story took place.

check dem grillz (on the car, gosh). 

One fateful day, he was climbing the tree in the front yard wearing those Chief Powhatan boxers (and nothing else on the bottom) and ripped a giant hole in them! R.I.P. Chief Powhatan boxers. You were the coolest thing to ever grace Isaac's underwear drawer.

Realness: it felt weird to type that last sentence. Moving on.

Now I'm gonna take you through time with these sentimental images. For those of you who grew up in this decade, get your kleenex out, okay? Trust me.

1,000,000 points to Gryffindor if you know what movie this is. 

life lessons from Arthur (a show I still watch, and I'm not even sorry about it)

I'm actually crying right now looking at this. 

 yes I did once go to a secret powderpuff girls meeting in a trailer. in a TRAILER. we weren't cooking meth, though. we were discussing our powderpuff powers. again, not a lie. what a childhood!

ain't no field trip like a "let's travel through a fellow student's intestines!" field trip

Oh, this game. I always died via snake bike and I could never ever cross that dang Platte River. It's a video game, how hard can it be to get a 2-D character through a pixelated pond? Super hard.

what kind of person invents this for children?! like, who are you and how do you still have your eyebrows? I'm pretty sure I would've shaved them off by now, if I knew who you were and where you lived.

My brother was known for stealing the neighbor's Ferbies and pushing them down the driveway, just to hear them say "oouuch, thaat huuurt" in their creepy voices. Ah man, he thought it was so chilarious. The neighbors didn't.

how many times do I have to say that I don't wanna hear 12-year olds singing "I like girls that wear Abercrombie and Fitch." Like, it's done. Be done. My ears are lit'rally bleeding. Oh and don't worry. There are 24 of these. TWENTY FOUR. That means there are more of these than there are years of my life. What does this say about me?

Mm, don't answer that.

if you didn't watch this show, who are you?!?

God bless the 90's. And Isaac's ensemble. And my face, which I still make, to this day. And that backpack, which I am pretty sure had Barney on it. And that afghan. And that wallpaper. Oh, that wallpaper.

for my future McHubz Face

if you wanna marry me, there are only a few requirements.

1) sing

2) play an instrument 

3) do both at the same time
4) make me a pb & banana sandwich for no reason

BOOM.

Now I'll just sit here patiently and wait for all my suitors to come.

Or maybe one of you has a backstage pass to see Ben Howard and I can just get that whole marriage proposal over with? Yeah?

DO ME A SOLID.

Now, since I'm on this subject of future prospects, let me share with you this gem from my an old journal. Yes, yes, sadly I fell victim to the whole "make a huge long list of all the qualities and attributes you want in your future spouse and be super specific." That list made it impossible to date for awhile. A boy would ask me out and I'd be like, "Wait, wait, hold up, my list says not to be interested in anybody who doesn't have blue eyes. So...sorry. Send me a postcard?"

What they should've told us to do was "make a huge long list of all the attributes and qualities you want to have in yourself when you're ready to get married and be super specific." But I digress.

So, in the name of solidarity, I now share with you, my homeskillets and homepaninipresses (what?) some of my favorites from my list, circa 2010 (yeah, not that long ago..erp. can't believe I just admitted to that on the world wide web. then again, I have a BLOG on the world wide web. enough said.):

my other half (yes that's what it's called, h8rs gon' h8)

1) no skinny jeans, yes you heard me ha...just...no. idk why I had to put this on here. if any prospect out there is wearing skinny jeans he's probably still in middle school, thus taking him right out of the "prospect" category.

2) can cook a little bahahaha...okay. so when I was in college I discovered that I actually love to cook for people...so this became hugely irrelevant. future hubz, if you're reading this (Ben? is that you?), I hope you don't mind free food because it's coming your way. and also, it's dericious.
3) will rub my back ya.....this still stands. amen. goodnight.
4) not obssessed with sports but still digs them ???????????? that's a direct quote, errybody. I just don't even know! My present self would like to salmon-slap my past self. But isn't that how it always is?

I'll leave you with a lyric from good ol' Ben Howard up there. In one of my favortiest songs by him, he says "I will become what I deserve." So to whoever's reading this...do that. Things will work out.

And that's a wrap.

Sorry I don't actually have prizes for those of you who finished this. If you live nearby, come get an otter pop! ...but not right now because I'm actually in my bed and everyone in my house is asleep. Ha! Can you imagine?

throngs of kenzie's blog readers showing up at her door, clamoring for an autograph otter pop....
(they sound the same! kind of)
parentals: you've gotta be karate-kidding me. it's 12 in the AM.
mckenzie: oh yes but they finished my entire pointless blog post about murrage because I am 100% (not) qualified to write posts about that!
parentals: ....................
mckenzie: .....................
parentals: