a social network christmas.

in the spirit of christmas and december and sunday, here’s a sweet little video that shows the christmas story a la facebook:

people are so creative these days.

merry sunday!

therapeutic thankfulness.

as of the past seven hours, it has been awfully easy to get all entangled in the negative. like that there’s never any toilet paper in my stall of choice, or that i have a large zit on the inside of my nose that aches every time i inhale sharply, or that i have to skip the kook’s concert tonight to write a fatty research paper on a topic i basically hate.

but, hmmm, anyways…

oh yes: being thankful.

it’s times like these that i have to stop and make a little mental list about the things i am thankful for. well, after i stop and make a little mental list of the people i want to kick in the head repeatedly.

thus: my mental(…but not, because i am typing it…just go with me) list about things i am thankful for! (you guys don’t get to see my ‘kick-in-the-head’ list, sillies!)(okay…a teaser: my jogging teacher. for making the jogging final so dang hard! i have failed it twice already and still have yet to pass it but…uh…) ready, go!

i am terribly thankful for my family. my parents were truly hand-selected just for me. and i love that my mother is one of my best friends in the entire world and that she didn’t veto the idea of eating frozen yogurt for lunch for 10 days straight. and that i have a father that i find so funny (DON’T tell him…) and has an uncanny way with words. and that he loves my mom so darn much and treats her like the queen of the world. i am thankful that i have younger siblings that i look up to because they are so sweet and kind (but not too sweet or too kind…because that would be nauseating!) and hilarious. and quirky…you guys are weird. i am thankful that they will play endless games of ‘true colors’ and b.s. with me (oh, and i am thankful for paige for introducing me to popcorn with brown sugar and frozen bananas with peanut butter and chocolate…and for having skinny legs that i can pretend are genetic).i am grateful for my older brothers that are way smarter than i’ll ever be. and also more patient. and kind. and just all-around better people than i am. ha. also i am grateful that they have both lead lives that i can earn serious cool-points over (“yeah, my brother’s in a band…”; “not a big deal buttttt my brother speaks the cambodian language fluently…”). and i am also thankful for all of my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. for being cooky and weird and supportive and protective and attractive(no seriously, both sides of my family are good-looking bunches). and that they do things like leave nice comments and meet me at greyhound bus stops at 6:00 a.m. to make sure i am of the living and bring me diet coke and mcdonald’s oatmeal (holy, thank you aunt jill!).

i am grateful for my friends, both here and there and everywhere. i am grateful that you guys know how to make me ugly laugh and how to console me when i ugly cry(why are all of my extreme emotions so…ugly?). and that you guys understand how important courtesy laughing is to my self-esteem and that i will inevitably eat off your plates. and that i like to do really boring things like go to costco and grocery shop. and that you guys make it so fun that it feels like a trip to disneyland!

i am thankful for the big dude upstairs. i am thankful that he has this plan for me (pleeeeease say it involves ryan gossling somehow!) and knows me by name. and that he listens to my sometimes super petty prayers about not getting fat ankles or running into someone that’s good-looking on campus. and that he, you know, created the world and stuff.

i am thankful for being HERE, right now. well, not really here HERE…seeing as i am in the library and the library tends to make me all anxious and itchy…but HERE. at byu. surrounded by smarty pants, happy people. at a university that pushes me (SO, so hard) but also lets me take really fun classes like cooking, volleyball, and photography (next semester! eeeep!). and that byu puts up lots of pretty christmas lights and plays christmas music. hmmm…i guess i am thankful for my job. actually, i am. i am thankful that i HAVE one and that it works so well around my schedule and that i work with nice people who tease me endlessly about my outfit choices. and that the job title makes me sound all fancy. and sometimes i get free food. i am thankful that i have so much to look forward to. my upcoming birthday, winter break where i can see all of my friends from home, christmas, and studying in italy next fall!

i am thankful that i am 18 and nine-tenths and that the biggest of my worries are getting rid of the inner nose-zit (any suggestions?), waking up on time, and fighting the freshman fifteen…or hiding it…i am thankful for layering, too. …and i am thankful for lots of other stuff. like that my eyebrow grew back. and hair cuts. and cozy socks. and the smell of clean laundry. and the ducks that waddled around the stairs by the broadcasting building today. and that kourtney kardashian is having another baby. and for hulu and pandora and pinterest and twitter and facebook, too. and the opportunity that i have (ready, set, corny!) to be creative every single day, through the outfit i pick out, or the music i listen to, or through this silly little blog.

oh, and i am thankful for all the people who actually read it. i am sorry for rambling all the time. i like you guys.

well, this was therapeutic…but i’d still like to kick my jogging teacher in the face.

dirty mouth.

(forewarning: this post could get highly spiritual and deep and also pitiful, too. it talks about the power of prayer (unfortunately…), my dirty mouth, and my lugaubrious (thank YOU thesaurus.com) dating life. and also it’s long-winded.)

once upon a ninth grade, i was a vision of highlighted hair, liquid eyeliner, and social awkwardness. i also had perfectly spotless language and cringed at the sound of a curse word. then, once upon a crisp, cold soccer game i let out my first (well…probably fifth) curse word as i lost the ball to a nearby defender. it felt so…nice (cussing, that is). like a burp that had been buried down deep inside my stomach and was just waiting to be released into the air.

as the season forged on, i began to be more bold and creative with my cursing (i lost the ball A LOT); strands of poetic combinations and variations of naughty explicitives. i was getting good.

i knew it was wrong, but i justified it with the four white lines around me. and, after all, i was getting good.

then one day we had a lesson in church (…or something, this part is kind of a blur) about clean language and how it’s so feminine and pretty and respectable and polite.

“…effballs!” i thought to myself as i sunk in my chair.

but i decided to make a change. my mouth was getting dirtier by the day and i wanted to be feminine and pretty and respectable and polite. my mother (or father…this part is a blur!!) told me to get down on my knees and pray that i would be able to resist the temptation to curse those wonderfully creative strands of curse words. that i would rise above. so i went home and i prayed and prayed that i wouldn’t be tempted to curse anymore.

the next day at my soccer game, as i was savoring my few minutes on the field and taking a shot on goal, a defender from the other team came in from the side, knocked me on my hiney, and blew out my knee. i was out for the season…and coincidentally my dirty mouth was, too! my cursing took a seat on the bench right next to me…i was cured! hallelujah (or something?)!

…obvsauce my dirty mouth caught back up to me again (eff!) and i got right back into my habit of cursing when i played sports…and when i dropped things…and when i realized how many calories were in that large spoonful of nutella i was eating four times a day.

last monday, my friends wanted to set up a fantastically fun ‘group date’ to a haunted forest (group dating, it’s all the rage here!). i complied and asked a boy who i thought would be fun and nonthreatening and was fairly hygienic, i’m mostly sure. he agreed!

wednesday, in my book of mormon class, the teacher gave a lesson on clean language (does this lesson just follow me around?!). he gave us a challenge (which he prefaced “now i’m sure none of you have a language problem…” sink in chair) to try to clean up our mouths and pray that we would be able to resist temptation to curse.

once again: i went home and i prayed and prayed that i wouldn’t be tempted to curse anymore.

that friday, i was getting all dolled up and ready to go. i combed my hair and put on thirteen layers of mascara and even flossed! thirty minutes before we left, i thought i should probably give my manly date a little jingle and see if he was still up for the adventure.

me: “HIIIIII! we are going to leave in thirty minutes-ish! hope you concealed all of your weapons and have your party pants on!” (funny, right?)(disclaimer: i may twist this conversation around to make me seem like the wizard of wit and conversation)

man-boy: “oh! hey! brooke! hey! okay…yeah…so, there’s A LOT of traffic right now and i bet we would have to sit in the car for like, two hours. should we still go? doesn’t that seem like a long time?”

me: “yes! yes it does. but we have it all figured out, don’t you worry.”

man-boy: (…awkward pause)”…oh, yeah! that’s cool! okay, well…”

me: “yes! yes?”

man-boy: “it’s like, super late. and i don’t know, like it’s late and i don’t know if i want to drive in a car and walk through a forest and…(this continues for another three minutes)…and yeah, so probably this is a no-go.”

me: “oh, radical! totes! totes-ma-goats (…i get weird when faced with disappointment). that’s totally fine. kseeyabye!”

and click.

after i had gotten all of my woes and sorrows out with the aid of bottomless bowls of cereal, i began to gain some perspective on the issue and decided to blame it all on the big man upstairs and that darned book of mormon challenge.

you see, i had prayed to not be tempted to cuss anymore, not to be able to resist temptation. that big dude knows me too well. he knew that if i was let into a haunted forest (with acres and acres of spook), i would begin shouting my favorite four letter word like it was going out of style (i really, really wanted to find a better idiom…that will just have to do; eff…). he knew that i would shout away the potential of any upright suitor at byu and shout away the potential of any dates…period.

yesterday in class i went up to my book of mormon teacher and told him the whole, long story. he sort of looked at me in bewilderment and told me that he heard the haunted forest wasn’t that great, that i should try again with the challenge, and that i should extract the phrase ‘totes-ma-goats’ from my vocabulary prontosap.

ha.

so the moral of that story is…that prayer is real! and it works! unfortunately well, sometimes! and that my pitiful dating life is really not my fault. nor is it the fault of my new desire to wear clothes that make me look like i am box-shaped or the super cheap and addictive chocolate covered almonds at the creamery. rather it is…prayer’s fault?

the end.

*disclaimer: i may have exaggerated a lot bit. also i am still a stalwart believer in prayer and how great it can be and the positive influence it brings. also, although i am trying to have a cleaner mouth, if you’d like to hear one of my creative combinations of explicitives, just ask and i may or may not whisper them to you over a soft drink of choice and giggles…

Top knot(ch)

Two items of business:

First off, I am in love with these people: http://www.taza-and-husband.blogspot.com.

It’s getting a little out of hand. I envision myself in their pictures; head sprouting up out of the background, undoubtedly doing a thumbs-up sign with a crazed smile. And the girl whose name is surprisingly not Taza (it’s Naomi, she went to Juliard… making this whole dream of being them more unattainable) is pregnant! And she wears vibrant lipsticks and top knots!

Mirroring Naomi, I got pregnant. But just kidding.

Mirroring Naomi, I bought three shades of vibrant lipstick and donned a top knot today.

(which reminds me of another story: One time I bought MAC’s Ruby Woo red lipstick. I loved that lipstick. I would always put it on in the house and wear it around, imagining I was something fancy of sort. Then! Then one day I got gutsy and wore it to school. Worst reaction ever. Teachers and students felt the need to remind me that my ‘lips are really red!’ and that I ‘was wearing red lipstick!?’ all day long. It was a horribly unnerving for me and my lips.)

Second off(Secondly?): Today, tired from my day of finals, I slung my backpack on the couch, flipped on the television, and began reviewing for my government final. I was so consumed by studying that I didn’t notice the channel was on a basketball game.

Fifteen minutes later, my older brother Clay walked in, slung his backpack on the couch across from me and asked me if I would judge him if he changed the channel.

I was momentarily confused by question and reassured him that no, I would not judge him if he changed the channel.

He then sat upright, lunged for the clicker(do you call it that? or a remote control? every time I say ‘clicker’ I get questioning looks), and turned on the TV.

Every move he made seemed so purposeful that he earned my attention. I was intrigued.

He quickly browsed through the DVR recordings till he found his show of choice: Gilmore Girls.

“What?” he asked.

(apparently I hadn’t masked my confusion)

“What? You can’t judge me–Lauralie kissed Luke and Dean and Rory slept together…and Dean is married!”

I laughed and judged him, but only a bit.

(the one pooch in my life that I do like)

Oh! I almost forgot!

Today, my friend Taylor(http://www.princesstalksalot.blogspot.com) & I went to an etiquette dinner at my church. We wined and dined and had a grand ol’ time talking to a seven-year old named Jeremy.

Illustrating my utmost etiquette, I grabbed three knives and put them in between my fingers and asked him if he had ever seen the movie X-Men.

He looked at me and said with such seriousness: “I don’t like superheros.”

Bewildered and slightly embarrassed that I had knives in between my fingers, I asked him why he didn’t like superheros.

Matter-of-factly, he replied: “I’m not a usual boy.”

I’m just going to guess he is going to grow up watching Gilmore Girls with his sister.

And he won’t care if his sister wears unflattering shades of lipstick

and hairdos which accentuate the unfortunate squareness of her head.

And I love that.