I wrote this when my internet was down

There have been new developments in our little microcosm of the universe:

1) I had to check and see if I used "microcosm" correctly (still not sure)
2) Houston got offered a job in Arizona and he took it (after consulting me, but I knew all along we would be moving there, SO)
3) I started looking for jobs in Arizona and selling off my sweater collection
4) I read ten more books
5) I found out that I can get Hulu with my Spotify subscription fo' FREE. This is important for two reasons: Felicity and Seinfeld re-runs. Although I dunno if you can call it "re-runs" anymore since it's just streaming.....

UM? Could this blog post be dumber?

Yes. It could.

Because now I have the Felicity theme song in my head, and it's a bit reminiscent of Enya. Lots of "ayy-oooh-ahhh---oooh-ayyoo-ahh, ay-ahhhhhhhh"

Yeah.

Am I selling you on it?!

 

What about now?

Did you know that in Season 2 (or maybe 3?) of the show, Keri Russell chopped off her hair and then the ratings went down? Super interesting, I know.

Do you ever wonder why society cares so much about things that actually don't mean very much? Like some fictional character's haircut?

Or having working internet (as I stare anxiously at the spinning wheel next to my wifi signal)?

Me too. 

And now I'll leave you with some more Felicity pics to convince you that even though it's kind of a corny show and the ending is absolutely horrid (what was J.J. Abrams THINKING), you should still watch it. At least until the last season, which we will pretend does not exist.

Felicity after chopping dat hair off. Please notice the Aggressively 90s outfit on the left.

 there's soooooort of a love triangle in the show (but not really after season 1), and I am extremely Team Noel (rhymes with mole)

I don't remember this episode very well except I think Felicity shows up to a Halloween party looking scary and every other girl dressed up....slutty. 

I never said it was original, okay?!

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 

things I will probably needlepoint onto a billboard

I can now say that unironically because I ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO NEEDLEPOINT.

Welcome to the Millennial Old Lady Phenomenon. I did in fact just make that up (obviously).

But you know it's true. Millenials are the new hipster, and hipsters were always just old people in disguise.

Hence my penchant for embroidery and wearing huge clothes that don't fit.

Here is a list I made in the middle of my social media fast (what, you don't struggle with giving up social media? What are you, a robot?):

things to embroider on a piece of fabric or maybe a billboard cuz that would be better:

• stop adding extra vowels to your children's names
• worry about yourself (oh no, but then we couldn't speculate about stranger's lives on social media?! REVOLUTIONARY)
• scream into a pillow, you probably won't feel better but at least you'll get to scream
• you can correct people's grammar or you can have friends
•  when you feel yourself starting to compare, SWERVE (this might not be a good billboard) (for safety reasons)
• live your life like the person who invented toast--they saw a piece of bread and went "cook it again," wow
• don't turn down the music in my car to speak to me--do you think your conversation is more important than this absolute banger?
• solo night drives are at the bottom of the food pyramid
• do you ever look at the ocean and think "sure is some scary soup!"
• space fact: if you look up, there it is
• the magic is in you. but it's also in microwaveable macaroni and cheese.
• when I catch my big break and show up to the academy awards wearing my old EFY shirt and some beat-up vans it's over for you hoes
• facing confrontation? sneeze yourself into another dimension
• any room is a crying room if you cry in it
• it's called oPENING, not "unboxing," you absolute pancakes
• it's okay to be OK (oklahoma)
• a warm bed. food to eat. walking back into the kitchen right as the microwave beeps. (this has been a poem)
• I'm sorry I watched an episode without you  

THANKS FOR BEING HERE

SORRY I'M YELLING IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE TIMES

things that matter/things that don't

source

This has been on my mind lately. Especially lately. Ok so listen.

This week in digital folklore, we talked about the weirdness of identity. The weirdness of identity=my thesis (but in poetry form). Basically, what we think about ourselves is not what we use to express ourselves, but it's all we have. So like your clothes, your hair, your makeup, your cool toys, your books, your taste in music, none of that really expresses who you are. Then there's what you think other people think of you, which gets weirder. Because that's not who you are either, but it's a lot easier to talk about. We care way more about how others think of us than how we think of us. And it's even further from our true selves than what we use to communicate who we are. Are you still following dis?

Okay so then we get to what we think others think we think we are. And what they think we think they think we are. WAT. But it's all about us, about our identities, and how they are really weird and defining them gets weirder. What we have to define them are things like words, which are so abstract. They are simply not enough to express things like love (for instance, you may love your spouse, but you also love that bag of chips on the counter) or sadness or guilt. 

As I'm scrolling through Instagram these days, I see a lot of people doing amazing things/being amazing. They have perfect lives, o woe is me! Why? Why does this bother us? We demand imperfection! We want to know that people are real, and imperfections=real. And yet, seemingly perfect people are the ones with all the followers (real or internet-ish). The equation just doesn't add up.

Which brings me to the eternal things. The things that do matter because they have permanence. A.M. Royden said, "Learn to hold loosely all that is not eternal." And I think what's bothering me about all of the stuff on Instagram, all the stuff that gets attention... is not permanent. But we spend so much time thinking about it. We're not just spending money on it, we're spending time and energy on it. And yo, I don't have a lot of time or energy these days. Not nearly enough is left over to worry about the midcentury modern furniture I don't have or the trips I am not going on or the lipstick I absolutely positively must buy cuz it doesn't smudge.

It makes sense that focusing too much on those things would make me feel out of place and miserable and weird, cuz those things aren't eternal, but I am. Even though there's parts of my identity that are hard to define, there are things I do know: I am a child of God, I always have been, and I always will be. I am eternal.

this list is for me, but it could be for you, too.

things that do matter:

• my family + any time I spend with them
• making the burdens of those around me much lighter
• praying as much as I can to feel peace in a confusing world
• keeping my eyes on the Savior
• temple work
• teaching my future children to be kind human beings

things that don't matter (in the eternal scheme of things):

• whether or not I put on makeup today
• how many cardigans I own
• how many concerts I went to this year
• if I have adult acne (ugh)

That last list was way harder to make than I thought it would be. I'm not saying that just because temporal things are just that--temporal--we shouldn't spend any time on them. If putting on makeup every day makes you feel good about yourself, do it. But if you happen to lack perfectly sculpted brows, I don't think you should beat up yourself about it. The thing I am most afraid of is extremism, and right now I find myself leaning too far towards caring about things that have no eternal value at all. And really, it's getting old. 

'"The Son of man came … to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45) is one of the clearest statements in the Gospels about the meaning and purpose of Jesus Christ’s suffering, death, and Resurrection--they were the price He paid to redeem all mankind. “Ransom” is translated from the Greek word lutron, meaning a sum paid to secure another person’s release from bondage or captivity. In Old Testament times, when someone was in bondage, the price of his release was expected to be paid by his kinsmen (see Leviticus 25:48–49). As the Firstborn of our Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ paid the ransom required to free all mankind from the bondage of sin. According to 1 Peter 1:18–19, the ransom was paid not “with corruptible things, as silver and gold, … but with the precious blood of Christ.'"

things I write when I'm putting off finalizing a syllabus

thanks to you,

I now have much better taste in movies. Before we met, I was a self-proclaimed "movie snob" (oof) because I watched movies that were black and white and enjoyed them. Now I know a movie doesn't have to be old, made by Disney, or have a happy ending to be "good."

I know way more about current events and politics. The only thing I ever learned from politics before was from scrolling through Facebook in agony.

I appreciate dad humor (this pains me to say, but pain is a sign of growth, I think #deep).

I am better at asking for things that I need, because nobody is telepathic, even though I sometimes act like they are.

I have a rediscovered love of very bad Mexican food (Beto's, why? Why must you entrap me once again?).

I see a lot of things differently.

When you've been seeing things pretty much one way (your way) for your whole life, it's crazy refreshing to see everything through a different lens.

ur the Bill Murray to my Scarlett J. 

a bunch of things I have an opinion on which nobody should read into

that makes me l-e-g-i-t

(so does spelling words out for emphasis)

This post exists because I'm procrastinating writing up ALL of my lesson plans for the fall semester, which are due in 24 hours, L-O-L. The only thing Twitter did for me was make me start saying "lol" non-ironically. I say that like it's a good thing and it is not.

I worry about blogs.

Blogs are just...eh.

I think that some people (myself included) spend too much time reading about other people's lives and not enough time living their own. I think they analyze the details of someone's life down to what carpet is in their living room and what paint is on their walls and WHICH MASCARA THEY USE because heaven forbid they have their own opinions on things. You know?

Is this what we've become? People who try to live vicariously through others? No way, man. That's lame.

And now, as if to prove my own point, I am going to make a list of popular things I have an opinion on, which you shouldn't take into account that much because they're all silly things, really, and I wholeheartedly believe the saying that you should "take other people's opinions lightly--VERY lightly." Next time you see an FB status that gets your goat, take a deep breath and walk away because I bet you commenting/not commenting probably won't change that person's mind. After all...they're posting it on Facebook.

THINGS I DON'T GET (BUT ALSO DON'T H8 ON):

• Pokemon Go. If I was a person that played games at all, I'd probably play this. I think it's especially great for people who have a hard time leaving their house because of mental illness. Like REALLY. You're not cool for hating this. The other night me and Houst were walking up on campus and passed a crowd of Pokemoners (is that the right noun???) and he was trying to explain the game to me to the best of his ability but he, like, lowered his voice to a whisper and said "I don't wanna say anything wrong and get called out..." HAHA. What have we become.
• The Bachelorette. It's the worst. Show. But. It's entertaining and they know how to entertain, dangit. It's all a scam, I know. It's not a template for healthy relationships, I know. It's gross that she makes out with multiple guys at the same time, I knOW. But could people be writing these kinds of recaps from a show like Law & Order? No. As for me and my house, I just read the recaps because I don't have time to watch 3 hours of grape-crushing-v-neck-wearing-protein-bar-eating madness. 

THINGS I DON'T GET AND KIND OF H8 ON A LITTLE

• Most of what's happening in the election...I'm so tired of reading about this. I actually might hate on this a little. This=the constant coverage of everything ridiculous the Trumps are doing. Does anybody know about his policies or are we focusing on lit'rally everything else he says/does? GAH. 
• Anything to do with the Kardashians + Taylor Swift. NO. Please tell me we are not picking "sides" between celebrities because of a silly feud that has nothing to do with anything important. EEEEEEEE. 
• Bloggers tryn'a validate reasons why they aren't completely active...I think this is a very personal thing and you shouldn't really talk about it on yo blog. Keep it between you and whomever you worship. I think it's damaging to other people who might be struggling and you offering up your opinion on your "personal journey to freeing yourself from the church" is makin me crazy. I KNOW THIS SHOULDN'T BOTHER ME and I should turn the other cheek and I'm just gonna say it this one time and then never again.

THINGS I HAPPEN TO LIKE THAT SOME PEOPLE TRY TO USE  TO MAKE THEM SOUND COOLER/SMARTER

• going to concerts
• liking music that's not on the radio
• drinking Kombucha (HAHahHAHAHAHAHA)
• pronouncing "kombucha" correctly
• reading the news

You aren't better than anybody because you do or don't participate in most of the things I just listed. That's the point!

Listen. I have an idea! Let us not worry so dang much about what other people like/don't like, unless it's some form of extremism or illegal activity and instead worry about things we could improve on. "We" meaning our own selves. I think the advent of social media has ruined some people's identities. And ya know who likes to make us forget about our identities? YEAH.

/end rant

(another thing to add to that list up there: ending things with a cool slashy thing and "end rant")

DON'T TAKE THIS POST TOO SERIOUSLY CUZ I SURE WON'T 

thoughts after an accidental 3 hour nap

The kind of nap that really ties you up and beats you up and you wake up totally disoriented and frothing with hate.

Well, not hate. 

Just...more tired. 

How can that be?

I really need to ride my bike to the dermatologist, but it is so hot.

Every summer I remember how hot it gets. Why do I forget? It's like when those monthly cramps come and every time, EVERY time I forget what it is. Every summer the heat wave starts to get more intense and then I remember just how much heat I can handle (not a lot). Which is not my favorite, because I would rather be warm than be cold.

I prefer the sun being out until 10pm instead of 5. Winter will now always remind me of never ending grading and insomnia.

So every summer I resolve to embrace heat again, just accept that I'm not going to bother fixing my hair or doing makeup or any of it because it all melts off of me. I am part wax. I accept this, and that's when I accept summer isn't out to kill me after all. Instead it's more of a recharging thing. Like how Superman is with the sun. 

I recently stopped taking my phone places--I was guilty of not enjoying things because I had my phone. Not because I needlessly surfed the Internet during a time when I could've been having an awkward conversation with a stranger or just (gasp) sitting in silence--although those are good enough reasons. I felt like I was doing a lot of things just to show that I did them on the Internet. 

Whom am I proving myself to? People on the Internet who don't know me and some who do, but the ones who do don't need proof...

Proof of what? Proof that I hike or make myself food or draw or sit on my roof sometimes to escape bugs (it doesn't work)? That's just me living my life, but ever since the invent of social media, everybody wants to share those normal things (good), but sharing them gets in the way of actually experiencing them (bad).

Sharing them means making them look better than they really looked (filters or perfect hand placing or what have you). 

And that part of it was giving me anxiety. I don't wanna spend the entire hike thinking of a caption to the picture I'm eventually gonna post of aforementioned hike! What is that?!

And so, last weekend we went to Peter Bjorn and John and I did not take my phone. I have no record of it. But the air was perfect and nobody spit on me (yes!) and they played our favorite song at the very end. I never once felt distanced from anyone because there was nothing between me and everyone else. No phone/other virtual world.

Recently, two women I follow on instagram lost their husbands very young. One of them wrote a post that struck me--she said that all of the things she used to post about--hair, clothes, recipes, etc--all of that was superficial. In her darkest hours, the most important things she'd clung to were her testimony and the love of her family. She reiterated that those are the most important things, and we should focus more of our daily energy on them. I felt guilty. Because I do that; I care too much about things that really don't matter.

Last night we went on a long walk and the sunset must've just known I didn't have my phone, because it was spectacular. Like if a hymn was a sunset. You know? I have no proof that these things happened, at least not tangible. But I can write what I remember--that's what I've always done. In the last few months, good writing has eluded me. I think I know why. I was investing all my creativity into one small thing, a small thing that yielded poor returns: likes. 

LIKES. I sold my soul to the devil for likes. But not anymore. I'll be writing much more and I hope you'll come back. If not, welllllll, I'll still be writing.

dude. this was where a guy killed that giant grizzly bear in the 1920's (10 ft tall, 1 ton, etc) (so much YIKE)

on a sidenote, Utah is really beauteous. always. forever. whoever says it's ugly

has never left their house.

adulthood

new comics, yay

adulthood means:

trying to figure out your life but not in the way that people on Dancing With the Stars are trying to figure out their lives because wow

staying up way too late shopping for boring stuff on Amazon like foam rollers, shoelaces, and water bottles (this is what I have become)

debating whether or not you should actually take a nap under your desk at school or walk the fifteen minutes home so you can sleep in your bed but then that's fifteen minutes you could be sleeping! so in the end you walk home and spend the entire "naptime" in bed on your phone

eyerolling real hard through a 2.5 hour class because you disagree with everything but if the teacher calls on you you say something like "I liked his word choice, lol" lol lolo o lfdslfdslafjlasjf lakjfl;a a af

also, using "lol" ironically and then being unable to stop. woof.

actually keeping track of your shower cries. so far I have had three this year. shower crying: the new rage-dancing in the forest.

being too tired to go buy actual groceries but not too tired to drive the extra ten minutes to Chick-Fil-A for a twenty dollar meal (no joke, why Chick-Fil-A tryna rob me blind?! I JUST WANTED SOME CHICKEN. THIS IS AMERICA THE PLACE IS CRAWLING WITH CHICKENS. THEY'RE LIKE AMERICA'S VERSION OF THE SHEEP OF SCOTLAND).

actually making plans called "dinner and taxes." with other people.

wanting to confront someone who wronged you:



If you haven't gotten to this point of your life yet, hold on to your youth a little longer. And those cute, eye-bags-less faces of yours. I'm sure you don't even need a filter! Yet.

good bad funny

good: I got another scholarship which I didn't even apply for (this pattern seems to repeat itself a lot). I think someone is watching out for me. Someone with a capital S.

bad: My doctor used the words "tumor" and "MRI" today and that's just rude, you know. Don't freak out plz. What I really (probably) have is bad vertigo. Why did I bring this up.
alternative bad: I'm almost out of peanut-butter filled pretzels. And willpower. The semester just started HELP.

funny: trying to walk gracefully down a very steep hill after it snowed today. I looked just like this guy.

Kylo Ren being like "I'll finish what you started, grandfather." Psh. He is such a fake fan. Does he not know how his grandfather died? HUH? Someone throw a self help book into space and mark it For Kylo. Never mind, I'll do it. I have time. 

on a scale from one to kylo ren how well do you react to *~STrEsS~ BOMbs*~

put this on my tombstone, ok

You know those moments when you open up to someone and tell them something kinda huge and personal and in the moment it's fine but then later you're like "oh no huge mistake" and your brain is flicking the lights on and off going "Welcome to hell! Welcome to hell!"

Yeah.

I'll be back later.

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????

what's a husband good for anyway?

Never fear. I, husbandless girl that I am, will tell you:

• holding your groceries so you can go to the bathroom because guess what you can't take your "merchandise" into the bathroom with you at Wal-Mart (lol @ Wal-Mart for thinking I would call anything I bought from there "merchandise")
• back-scratches in hard-to-reach places
• telling you when you need to use hyphens and don't need them (I never need them but that doesn't stop me from abusing them)
• making you good playlists when you run out of good music and Discover Weekly is the wurst
• watching every episode of Parks & Rec, The Office, and 24 with you (for the hundred-billionth time, whatever, it's not a big deal, I'm getting help)
• bringing you chips and salsa when you forget to eat because you've been writing a paper for four hours wait it's morning now jk bring me toast
• telling you if there's something in your teeth (THIS IS SERIOUS)
• telling you if your zipper is down
• telling you if you need gum or a mint
• giving you said gum or mint
• giving you faces like these when you're being straight up ridiculous:

• understanding your sense of humor/inside jokes
• giving you rides home from campus so you don't have to walk home alone in the rain and in the dark like I did tonight whoops sorry mom I had no choice
• honestly rating your Instagram captions/overall social media presence (on a scale from 1-10)
• giving you foot rubs and then gently telling you when it's time to shave your toes 
• bringing you toilet paper when you run out on the pot
• being your excuse to leave a party early 
• helping you not to eat an entire tub of popcorn before the movie starts (we'd split it 50/50)
• (okay more like 70/30)
• (80/20)

This doesn't mean anything except that I'm heavily procrastinating writing a paper and the other day I was in Wal-Mart with the fullest bladder and nobody to hold my groceries. Hence this list came to fruition goodbye.

in which I attempt to cheer up the emoji benchwarmers

why isn't there an emoji for this emotion?

I don't think you'll be able to read this unless you're on a cell phone, mostly because I'm using lots of emojis and you're gonna feel real left out when all you can see are squares. SQUARES. Hint: capitalize one word per paragraph, just to disorient your readers. Just try it. TRY IT! Whoops, that was three words. I can't be an extremist, guys. Not today.

Are we calling cell phones "hotline blings" now? I need to keep up with the trends or this blog is going to go down the toilet. TUBES. Down the tubes. I don't like the word toilet just bc of what it reminds me of (puking, if you must know, and dead goldfish).

I have some things to say to those underused emojis living in all of our phones. I think they feel left out, so I wanted to just, ya know, encourage them a little. Emojis are people too! Wait. Nah. No. Nope.

Saxaphone, you're most useful than some would like you to believe (cough *guitar emoji* cough). I like to punctuate unfortunate news with you instead of actual periods and commas and stuff. Makes the recipient feel better. Hey (saxaphone) I (saxaphone) can't (saxaphone) come (saxaphone) tonight. Now it seems like they got a text from Kenny G. instead of Kenny no G(allbladder) (that me). 

Yo mom sandals, or mandals, you're not all bad. S/o to your arch support and hardcore orthopedic-ness. I bet if Meryl Streep was a sandal, she wouldn't be you. BUT YOU'RE STILL A-W-E-S-O-M-E. 

Satan after getting hit by a greyhound bus/some kind of mask?

Bro. BRO. you're alright. Not sure if you came from The Tiki Room at Disneyland or the actual depths of hell. Since I often use you to describe my face in the mornings, I'm gonna go with the second one.

It's true, I didn't know you existed until I was writing this blog post. Now I'm going to use you all the time when I need to talk about Anne of Green Gables in text messages (which is never, but)

Ok. Honestly? Are you the Emerald City or are you a cactus or are you something else entirely? Whatever you are, I'm going to embrace you. Some days I have felt the emotion "Emerald City" but haven't known I could express it...until now. Thank you. Thank you so. much.

mysterious grey box emoji

Dude, this is the tightest carp I've ever seen. Do I know what you are? No. But you're mysterious. You go ahead and own that. 

doily or cloud with frosting swirl

Nobody uses doilies anymore so you've gotta be a cloud with a frosting swirl, and I respect that. I respect anything with frosting on its face. Do you have a face? DO CLOUDS HAVE FACES? This emoji has caused me to have an existential crisis. Welcome to my blog.

johnny appleseed concert ticket

Hey Mr. Johnny Appleseed movie ticket thing. uhhhh....wow...um...good luck with everything? shoot for the moon and even if you miss you'll be in the middle of space. all alone. like Sandra Bullock.

floating howard stern

If you aren't a floating Howard Stern emoji then I want nothing to do with you. Sorry but that's the best support I can give at this juncture.

the "symbols" *imagine I'm banging a gong right now*

There's gotta be someone out there who knows what you guys are (probably only steve jobs, and he probably also knows the truth about michael jackson, shiz! he took that to the grave that son of a geraldine!).

~*just some cool pix while I play Russian Roulette with my bladder*~

Yo, was that title TMI? Good. If you're too weak to handle the word "bladder," this blog isn't for you.

I haven't really talked about school/Logan/myself in awhile. hAHA. Is this even a real blog still? Idk.

So here's a picture dump with story-like captions to CAPTIVATE you. Get it? Captions to captivate. I should sell knives door to door or something like that. What else do people sell these days?

When the sun sets in our house, it always lands on my mom's face in just the right way. I have like fifty variations of this picture in my phone. I guess she just attracts light or something. I call it "Dude From X-Men Reincarnated As My Mom."

OK BUT LISTEN. MY WALK HOME FROM SCHOOL IS BETTER THAN ALL OF YOURS.

*drops mic onto your face*

a few weeks ago we went to Park City. I got stuck on the Alpine Slide. It was embarrassing. An attractive guy had to come rescue me (probably a skater, no doubt no doubt no doubt *BONUS IF YOU KNOW WHAT THAT'S FROM*).

me imagining eating 50 of these once I get inside.

me wondering how my wedding pics are gonna go if I can't even keep a straight face with this pan of cookies.

me accepting the fact that I don't care right now.

just look at that ho(l)e

Errbody talks about Logan Canyon like it's the beezy so I went to find out for myself. They were right, dangit. I'm never gonna see another human bean again.

This is my neighbor's cat. His name is Freddie Prinze Jr (according to moi). He follows me around until I let him use my leg as a nuzzling post. If I try to pick him up he's mean. He gets overly excited around grass. He lounges on the sidewalk across the street and meows whines at me until I tell him he can come over. 

SO WHAT I'M SAYING IS HE'S MY SPIRIT ANIMAL.

That's it, I guess. School isn't kicking my trash as much, but like, it's only week four. I'm barely even a professional expert person yet.