Summer Lovin', Had Me a Blast

As of last Friday, it is officially Fall.

I have mixed feelings about this.

Because as much as I love the changing of the seasons, my summer was so amazingly fantastic that I don't want it to end.

This is documented by my two Facebook photo albums containing over 300+ pictures of my adventures. You can thank me now for refraining from posting them all here.

It was also evidenced by 'da twinneh's' "I hate you and all of your summer fun." comment.

I can't help it that I was unemployment and carefree or that she slaved away day-after-day for the majority of the time...

But do you know what's not fun?
Writing, yet another, entire blog post (complete with a list of 35 fun things I did this summer) and then realizing none of it saved due to some strange act of the Blogger Gods.

So, suffice it to say, between touring Europe for a month, spending a week in a $10,000,000+ beach house in San Diego, horse riding, rodeing, camping, eating, cliff jumping, star gazing, going to Disneyland, carrying out an ongoing prank war, living with some of my most favorite people in the world, country dancing, karaoke-ing and living it up college-style, I am plum-stuffed full of of summery fun.

I did everything I wanted to do and then some.

I even accomplished a goal I highly doubted the likelihood of.

Let's just say it's been a productive summer.

And Corinner-Elly may have finally gotten her fairytale.

Hey... Take it Easy.

So yesterday, I completed my Scrabble fridge magnets.
Once I figured out where I had put my dang magnet strip, it was easy-peasy from there on out. It is an understatement to say 'I love them'.

As you can see, they've already been put to good use.

I decided to one-up Lacy-Hacy on the swearing issue.
And it was a good choice too because, no joke, after being home less than two minutes, she had already adorned the front door with a resounding 'OSHIT'.

Lovely.

She then continued by chewing me out over not being able to find a particular letter.

"What the F!!? What did you do with all the 'Y's??!", she bellered.
It was then that she noticed the "<3 YOU LACY" in front of her nose.

Bet she felt sheepish.

But it's ok. I forgive her.
She's the only person I know who can be yelling at me one minute and laughing at me the next. And I the same with her.

I just can't stay mad at the girl.
Plus, we have some pretty fantastical arguments.

Yesterday, she accused me of never listening to her. I, of course, accused her of the same. Keep in mind we were both accusing loudly at the same time so in essence, we proved each other right. Haha.

But by the time I left to go stargazing, when I yelled 'love you' on the door step, it was immediately countered with a 'love you long time' response.

It's nice having a home away from home.
A family too.

Dysfunctional as it may be.

That's... 'Pin'teresting...

I have something to admit.
I am a shameless addict.

A week or so back, I noticed certain posts on Facebook beginning to appear. They notified me that certain people were 'pinning' things.

Confused, I decided to look in to it.
And that is when it happened. I took my first dose of Pinterest.

And now, pretty sure I'm never going to be able to stop.
I won't go to rehab. You can't make me!

It doesn't help that my job is an enabler. I can only stare at the closet door in front of me or click my pen so many times before I develop a twitch.

So, instead (to keep me alert and active) I scroll through pages and pages of Pinterest pins. If you are unfamiliar with how Pinterest works, let me educate you.

Copied directly from their website:
"Pinterest is a virtual pinboard. Pinterest allows you to organize and share all the beautiful things you find on the web. You can browse pinboards created by other people to discover new things and get inspiration from people who share your interests. People use pinboards to plan their weddings, decorate their homes, and share their favorite recipes."

So it's like a giant collaboration of photos that provide inspiration for whatever you're in to.

What they neglect to mention is that people use Pinterest to waste gigantic amounts of time. But if you enjoy wasting the time, is it really time wasted?...

Regardless, it has really gotten me into a crafty mood.For some time now, I've wanted to refashion a sewing chest I was given as a 7-year-old for Christmas. I hate to bash Mom *cough* I mean Santa, but even then it looked dated.

Seriously, there are no words to describe my distaste for the combination of forest green and what appears to be a piece of medieval tapestry.

So instead of taking my daily afternoon nap (it was a tough decision), I decided to whip out my scrap fabric, spray paint, glue gun and get crackin'.

Okay, okay. So I still fit in a short nap. The paint needed time to dry...
But I also finished my now ridiculously fabulous sewing basket.

It was no where near as intensive as I imagined it'd be. All I had to do was pop out the lid and dismember the pieces. (I watch a lot of SVU. Can you tell?...)

Then I taped the sections I didn't want to be painted and started spraying. While that was setting, I re-covered the padded lid with a zebra print that has hot pink accents.

It's freakin' hot. Not gonna lie.

Then all I had to do was put it back together, hot glue gun at the ready.

I did make a small whoopsie when painting the wooden insert tray.
Word to the wise, do not cut corners when taping off sections. Because when I removed the newspaper, there were some ugly black stains on the fabric lining.
 

Never fear, I don't sweat the small stuff.
I quickly found a piece of hot pink leopard material which I lined the offending compartment with.

And I actually like it better than I did before. Yay for happy accidents!

But can you believe it, I didn't stop there.
I've seen many of variation of this, and I've always wanted to try it.

So I did.

I absolutely love how it turned out!
I found the three plates and two candlesticks at the D.I. The top smallest one is completely white with a cool shape/design, the middle one is black with white polka-dots (obviously) and the third is a simple black IKEA plate.

I couldn't get a picture that makes it look proportional (as it is in real life) so you're just gonna have to believe me when I say that it looks perfect.

I have it sitting as a centerpiece on my kitchen table, just waiting to be filled with some sort of tasty goodness.

So that was my productiveness as of yesterday. Hopefully the girls who gave me strange looks as they passed by while I crouched in my grungies spray painting in the stairwell won't judge me to harshly.

Heck, like I care.

I'm way excited for my next project.
If you know me, you know of my affinity for everything Scrabble.

A while back, I found a ghetto Scrabble board at the D.I. that still had all of the pieces. I bought it so that I wouldn't have to steal my parents' set, but within months it was Christmas and Santa brought me the brand-spankin'-new Diamond edition complete with swivel game board, raised edge tile slots and shiny black letter pieces.

I couldn't decide what to do with the thrifted game, so it's just been sitting in my game closet. That is, I couldn't decide until I was browsing through Pinterest (again) and kept coming across engagement photos and crafts containing those little Scrabble letter tiles.

And that is when I had an epiphany.

I am going to glue all of the old tiles to pieces of magnet and...

wait for it...

stick them on my fridge!!!
Then Lacy-Hacy with be able to spell obscenities with ease and leisure!
It's brilliant I say!

I'll let you know how they turn out.

There's No 'There', There.

Is it possible to have a semi-photographic memory?...
Because if it is, then I think I have one.

Or maybe I just have a normal memory like everyone else.
When people remember things, don't they see them in their mind almost exactly as they saw them in real life? Like the arrangement of words on a paper or the placement of things in a drawer?

And if that's true, don't we all have (at least to some degree) a photographic memory?

Most of the time, I can picture exactly what I'm trying to remember. I mean, I can't recite back word-for-word everything I've ever read but, take for instance, yesterday I wrote an entire blog post which, to my horror, didn't save properly.

I went through the stages of grief rather quickly. Shock, pain, anger, depression and finally acceptance.

At first, my 'acceptance' equated to giving up and cursing life.
But then I decided to cry me a river, build a boat, get over it and just write the dang thing again.

Thank you Natalie Dee.

To my amazement, I quickly re-wrote the whole post almost word for word.
In fact, I think my second draft was even a bit better.

I was rather shocked at my ability to remember the order of topics I had discussed and even the same phraseology that I had used.

But I suppose not everyone can do that.
Because, apparently, even using a turn signal throws some people for a loop.

And I find myself quoting Scar from The Lion King in his declaration, "I'm surrounded by idiots..." far too often these days.

It's settled. I've come to the conclusion that everyone has a photographic memory. Some people just don't have any film.

'Bump'kins

Zits have been on my mind lately.
Well, on my forehead at least.

And I've come to two conclusions:
1) I do not like the word 'zit'. Saying it makes me feel like a high-schooler again. I've decided to replace it with 'blemish'. Much more refined, no?

-AND-

2) I'm 22. Why am I still getting blemishes?...

Okay, okay. To be fair, I don't get nearly as many as I used to.
In fact, I hardly get any at all.

But when I do, why do they have to be the ginormous, third-eye kind?

And why do they have to appear when I will be visible to the public? Like on Sundays and... every other day... Never mind. Bad example.

Speaking of Sundays, is it just me or do people mispronounce words during their talks quite frequently? I mean, it's understandable. I, of all people, understand the terror that comes along with public speaking.

Every talk I've ever written has been shot to he** as soon as I stand in front of that pulpit. I'll have worded it out beautifully and rehearsed it several times, but inevitably, my one goal changes from doing well and inviting the Spirit to focusing all my energies on not passing out.

I'll get back to my seat and have absolutely no idea what I just said.
Which makes me wonder how many words I've flubbed up?

My favorites from yesterday were 'apathetical' instead of 'apathetic' and 'lackadaisic' instead of 'lackadaisically'.

Snickering at people's mistakes is fun and all, but it makes me miss having kids running around the building. That's the problem with singles wards. Kids make church entertaining. I love how they're always perfectly honest, even when it comes across as mildly insulting.

Not to mention they're funnier than heck.
I was lucky enough to have my four nieces with me yesterday, which was a sight indeed at a BYU singles ward. They were the talk of the ward.

'Talk' used here intentionally, because that's all they did. Loudly.
Not quite sure how the bishop felt about that?...

But we all burst out laughing over something six-year-old Messy-Jesse said.

She was sitting by my roomie, Lacy-Hacy, who was helping her doodle on one of the announcements and write random words.

"How do you spell your name?", she asked innocently.

"Here. Let me write it down and then you can copy it.", Lacy-Hacy responded.

After it had been scrawled out in a single flowing line, Messy-Jesse looked at it confusedly for a moment before exclaiming, "Not in SPANISH!"

She later informed us that she had meant to say 'cursive' but it had come out wrong. Needless to say, it was hilarious.

But it's moments like this when I forget all about the giant crater on my face and become endlessly grateful for the 18 (soon to be 19!) little munchkins in my life.

Funny Business

Sometimes I don't understand people and their sayings.
For instance, my mom is addicted to using the phrase: "She/he's so funny."

You might be thinking, "What's wrong with that?... People are funny?"

The thing is, when she says this, the person is usually not being funny.
Most often, far from it.

In fact, they are usually being downright irritating.

I most vividly remember her using the statement when my grandma was alive and living with us at the house. She'd make ridiculous requests for her crackers to be meticulously placed in two neat piles of five and demand that her water cup be first completely filled with ice and then water or else snottily reject it.

To any normal person, this would be extremely annoying. Not 'funny'.
But of course, as I fumed over her demanding nature and ridiculous requests, my mom would simply laugh and say, "Oh, she's so funny!"

Puzzling, no?

On a side note, I don't think being old gives you the right to be a crank. It might make you feel better when you're trying to justify acting witchy, but it really doesn't fly. No offense Gran.

Also, why do people say 'no offense' when they intend to offend someone?
Why put on a happy face when you really don't mean it?

Personally, I'm all for expressing how you really feel. I mean, courtesy is always the best policy, but so is honesty. Don't pretend you like someone to their face and then talk about them behind their back every chance you get.

And especially don't post blog posts or Facebook status updates, that you know good and well they'll be able to read, subtly documenting your distaste for them.

If you don't like them, how about just removing them as a friend? Eh?
Then you can post all of the nasty statuses you want.

Of course I don't say this from experience...
What makes you think that?

*nervous laugh*

Maybe that's why my mom is so determined to insist that bad behavior equates to a warm-and-fuzzy feelings of endearment. Maybe it's easier to tell yourself that people are sweet and innocent as opposed to malicious and hurtful to keep from exploding inside.

But then again, if you don't have the angelic disposition of my mother, saying "SHE'S SO FUNNY" repeatedly, while angrily glaring and clenching your fists might not be quite as effective.

Looks like I'll have to stick to my normal methods of coping.
Namely, long blog rants and bubble wrap.

She Scares, Because She Cares.

My roommate thinks I'm crazy.
It's because I like to do things like twist my plastic bags into little balls or save mini sauce packets from fast food joints.

I can't help it if I'm all about efficiency.

My roommate is also the master of torture.
Last night, after turning out all of the lights and heading to bed, I wandered back into the kitchen to grab a vitamin and a glass of water. Little did I know that she would be crouching in the darkness, waiting for me to walk by.

The girl can make the creepiest noises you've ever heard. Combine all of the monsters and psychopaths from every movie you've ever seen and that is the sound she produces as she crawls from the darkness and claws at your legs.

Naturally, this produces extreme terror on my part.
And usually shrill screaming. (Sorry people on the floor below us. Not my fault.)

A relatively normal person would call it good at that, after producing the desired result. But my roomie bestie?... Never.

Needless to say, less than two minutes later, she'd done it again.
And I'm sorry to say, I was completely caught off guard. Again.

I'm here to attest that the terror only intensifies the second time around.
I practically sh** a brick. Pardon my French.

But back to the point at hand.
Why am I being punished for my efficiency?

Okay, okay. It really has nothing to do with efficiency. Lacy-Hacy just likes to scare the bejeebies outta me. For some strange reason it brings her heart immense joy to see me scream and almost fall over.

Then she'll laugh maniacally and saunter back to her room.
It's just not natural, I tell you.

But that's why I love her.
We torture each other. I with my inherent need for perfect organization and she with her inborn desire to frighten people.

And I think we're rubbing off on each other too. Because the other day, she asked me to show her how to twist her plastic bags into little, efficient, space-saving balls. And I, in turn, felt the strange desire to jump out and scare my 6-year old nephew, who immediately burst into tears. Pretty sure I'm winning 'aunt-of-the-year' for that one...

So it's kind of a perfect partnership.
She's tons of fun, and I'm no fun at all. She... completes me.
(Name that movie.)

And let's face it, when she tries the scrumptious smothered burritos I make with those extra Taco Time hot sauce packets and the Mexican rice I whip up with McDonalds' leftover ketchup bags, she's not complainin'.

Kinda like how when I finally get my heart rate back to a normal pace, I'm smiling as I go to sleep because I know I get to wake up tomorrow and be surprised by her spontaneity all over again. :)

Ah, Young Love. How it Makes Me Want to Hurl.

Is it just me or are most 'newly married' blogs usually annoying and/or boring?...

I can't tell you how many times I've read the 'this blog is like my journal!' or 'I want my family to be able to read back on my life to remember me better' sentiments. But all I see is 'I plan to be lame for the next 2,000 posts'.

Yet I still follow them, hoping that eventually they'll write something worth reading.

And sometimes, they do. But it's stuffed between so many freakin' pictures, that I give up before I can even get there. Isn't that what Facebook photo albums are for?... Not to mention the countless hours they, no doubt, spent uploading each individual file, one... by... one...

Whenever I write a blog post, I try to find a corresponding picture or comic to go along with the content. I'm more of a 'less is more' proponent when it comes to posting pictures.

And I'm not saying that my blog is always perfectly entertaining or that the pictures are always top notch. What I AM saying is that I try to make it more than a glorified scrapbook.

Because if I have to scroll through one more photo of you and your 'hubby' at Bear Lake, I'm going to gouge my eyes out.

I don't know why some couples think they have to document every trip they've ever made on their 'family' blog. It's dumb, I say.

I would much rather read funny stories or important news about their relationship. Seeing posts about 'another fun weekend :):):)' makes me want to die.

I think, instead, I'll just stick with other hilarious blogs.
That way I won't have to worry about 187 pictures of their new love labradoodle.

My favorites lately are:
As always, Hyperbole and a Half,

The Oatmeal,

Toothpaste for Dinner,

and Natalie Dee.

Naturally, you're free to decide which blogs you want to read.

I'm just putting out there that some are more nauseating than others.