The End of Days

The other day I was looking up concerts, ya know, just to see if there was anything I might want to attend. Much to my chagrin, I saw these two terrible bands right next to each other: 

I almost had a siezure! I got nauseous and light headed and felt like I might blackout and choke on a puddle of my own vomit. I swear on my life if I hear "Pumped up kicks" one more time, I will pump my kick straight into someone's teeth. Neither one of these flock of daemons should be allowed to produce what they think is "music" and they certainly can't consider their flocks to be bands! 

I just thank my lucky stars that Creed wasnt on this list! You may not know this, but when those three "bands" unite, the gates of hell actually open and play a mashup of "pumped up kicks/arms wideopen/photograph" and that mashup provides immortality to Nicholas Cage and he will rein this earth forever! 
Citizens of Salt Lake, consider yourself warned. 

Intruder Alert!

The story I am about to tell you is 100% factual. It is not based on true events. It is not exaggerated. It is not a joke. The names have been changed to protect the innocent (and not so innocent) ….
 
Sunday evening I got into bed at an early hour excited to enjoy some Netflix and drift off into slumber. I did those things until suddenly at 12:30am I was startled awake by a man’s voice yelling, “POLICE! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!” (Yes, they do in fact say that). My initial thought was that I was having a dream where someone yells and I wake up thinking for sure that really happened (I am prone to having these sorts of dreams). I heard them yell again and then noticed a flashlight shining under my door. At that point I realized this was real life and not a dream. I climbed out of bed, heart racing a million miles a minute. I was completely bewildered and terrified beyond words. I slowly opened the door so as to not get shot and raised my hands in the air as I walked out of my room. Sure enough, there were two officers in my hall way and countless more running throughout the house on a full-on raid. One had a gun pointed at me screaming, “HANDS UP! HANDS UP! GET OUT HERE!” I replied with my hands in the air, “I live here. What is going on?”.
 
Of course they refused to actually tell me anything. Instead they just yelled at me to come out and direct me into the kitchen. The whole time I was stumbling around, asking what was happening, and going in the wrong directions because so many police officers were yelling different things at me. One would tell me to go get shoes while the other would yell at me to not go back to my room. Basically, it was a cluster-eff of 6 police officers raiding my house, yelling at me, and all of this happening with no explanation. Once they got into the kitchen they asked who was home with me. I told him I didn’t know, you know, because I had been asleep for the last two hours. Apparently he didn’t like that answer because more yelling happened; I told him when I went to bed roommate A was there with a friend. They made me point to where her room was and then proceeded to raid her room and make her and her friend come into the kitchen with me. The three of us stood there totally freaked out and totally unclear as to why we were being rudely pulled out of bed with yelling and guns. Finally one officer decided to stop treating us like criminals and told us there had been a report of an intruder in our home. Neither of us had any idea what they are talking about. I asked if it could have been a bad address, suggesting that perhaps it was a neighboring house who gave the wrong address and was actually being robbed at the moment. They didn’t like my helpful suggestion at all and finally told us that one of our roommates had come home to an unlocked door (not really that strange for our house), saw the lights were off (because we were all asleep) and noticed a truck in front of the house (J’s friend). She got freaked out and left. Finally roommate C arrived and admitted she called the police. Apparently when roommate B left scared she called roommate C to see if she knew what was going on. Roommate C, who was around the corner at a friend’s house, called 911 and said there was an intruder before she came home to find all of our cars in the driveway. Oops! False alarm! Maybe a little overreaction there?
 
Arguments ensued as to why C didn’t come check before she called the cops and why B thought that those pretty normal things were so scary since clearly A and I were home at the time. The police officers left, but not before stating, “It sounds like you guys have some roommate issues you need to work out so we’ll let you take care of that”. Yeah, not embarrassing at all to have 6 police officers raid your house in the middle of the night and then write it all off as roommate drama.  
 
Basically I didn’t sleep that night. Turns out you don’t get  woken up by a yelling police officer with a gun and just drift right back to sleep. Even though nothing actually happened I am still fairly certain I am experiencing some PTSD. Last night when I was in bed I got really freaked out over every little noise. Luckily, I thought to check the driveway before calling the cops and all the noises were just my roommates coming home. Phew! What a close call!
 
So there you have it, my awesome Sunday night/Monday morning. It was really the perfect way to end my weekend/start my week. I hope you all enjoyed my tale of non-existent intruders, police raids, pajamas and guns. I know I sure didn’t!

Doo Wah Diddy Diddy

It is really cold in my house you guys. Like so cold that I sleep in 2 pair of pants, a long sleeve shirt, a fleece and 2 socks. I also have 5 blankets on my bed and still wake up with a frozen nose each morning. It is so cold that I am seriously considering purchasing one of these to wear under my normal pj’s. I tell you about my cold, chilly, frigid, icy, frosty, glacial, house so that you know why I ventured to Target this past Saturday. Basically I don’t spend time at home unless I am in bed and bundled up so thick that I can’t bend my knees. I got bored of lying in bed watching “Hoarders” on Netflix, so I decided to get into my car and head to some place far enough that I could defrost via seat warmers and then wander aimlessly in a heated building. What place better fits that criteria than Target? While there I purchased, well, nothing of great necessity. I did find this gem:

Sure that is a great color of nail polish in my favorite brand, and yes I have an addiction to eos chapstick, but the real gem I refer to is my newly obtained copy of “My Girl on DVD”. I literally squealed with joy when I saw that on the shelf! And at $5.00 I felt like I was robbing someone, so I hid it under my arm and made a swift run to the checkout stand. What if another thawing patron had seen that priceless artifact under my arm?! Surely they would have used a food product to spray me in the eyes and steal it! That sort of behavior is usually relegated to Walmart patrons, but when it comes to a $5.00 copy of “My Girl”, I don’t want to know what a classy Target patron would be capable of. When I got home I cradled it in my arm and sang “Doo Wah Diddy Diddy” for a solid 20 minutes (Okay, that didn’t happen. Or did it?) and then I reminisced about my fond memories surrounding my favorite movie, ages 6-10. Now I feel I should share a list of these memories. You get an awesome glimpse into the mind of a really “imaginative” (aka super weird) little girl:

// I got a mood ring after seeing this movie. It was pink and I was completely obsessed. It also pretty much almost told me I was in love, which I totes was – with Macaulay Culkin! Don’t worry that I wrote him a love letter once upon a time. My friend Courtney had a book of celebrity fan mail addresses and you can bet JTT got one too!
// I wanted a peasant shirt like Veda’s SO BAD!!!! I didn’t get one until I was 16 and they came back in style. You can bet that my reasoning behind purchasing that peasant top at Abercombie & Fitch was because it reminded me of Veda, 10 years after I was obsessed.
// I desperately wanted to look like/be Anna Chlumsky. For those of you who weren’t creepily obsessed with this movie, that is the actress who played Veda. I did some research and she hasn’t done much in adult years. Bummer.
// Oh how I wanted Macaulay Culkin to be my neighbor/best friend/one true love…but only if he didn’t die while looking for my lost mood ring.
// I can’t even begin to tell you how often I played “My Girl”. Sometimes it was alone in the backyard, other times it was with my friend Courtney and we both had to be Veda (twin sisters, both named Veda) and there were twin Thomases. It got a little complicated but we made it work because that is what best friends do.
// Possibly the strangest “My Girl” play occurred with my water pups. I think that is what they were called. They were these little plastic dogs that were colorful and had terrycloth ears so they could go in the tub. I had this purple one that had a removable yellow hat and my brother had one that was white with blue and red spots. I stole his so it could be Thomas and mine could be Veda. I filled up the sink and re-enacted the water scenes with my water pups. It’s okay to start judging my childhood about now.
// This was the first movie I cried at. It set the stage for every other movie that makes me cry…”A Walk to Remember”….”The Notebook”….”Rabbit Hole”….”Horton Hears a Who”…. “How to Train your Dragon”…
// “My Girl 2” SUUUUUUUUUUUCKED!!! I refused to admit that back then because I was so obsessed and so excited for its release, but it was crazy lame. I never needed Veda to go beyond saying, “Don’t worry, Thomas J will be alright. My mom will take care of him”.


I honestly sort of feel like I owe this blog to “My Girl”. I was in the writing club at my Elementary and was made fun of for it (I think everything listed above explains that I was pretty used to being made fun of though). I stayed in the writing club, which I loved, because Veda was in a poetry class even though it was weird. My advisor, Mrs. Meastas told my mom I was really talented for my age and that I understood writing concepts and styles that most people don’t get until later in life. That encouragement from Mrs. Meastas is the reason I kept writing, love writing and essentially why I keep writing on this blog. Basically what I am saying is that “My Girl” shaped my life. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get a box of tissues and wait for Veda to yell that Thomas J can’t see without his glasses.

Think Fast: Get Ready in 10 minutes or less

Guys, I love LC. I love her so, so, sooooo much! If you don’t know who LC is then you should crawl back under your stupid rock with the people who didn’t see Bridesmaids or who didn’t know who The Situation was. I mean I know that not everyone is obsessed with pop culture like me, but get with the program people! LC = Lauren Conrad, star of my 2 most favorite shows of all time: The Hills and Laguna Beach (seasons 1 &2). I read her website and I am not ashamed of that. Today she posted this little guy on getting ready in 10 minutes. I mean absolutely no disrespect to Ms. Conrad, but I had to laugh because I get ready in 10 minutes on a regular basis and I can promise my “roll out of bed” look does not involve cheek stain or pre-planned emergency outfits. I decided to gift you all with a realistic list of go-to items when you wake up late and have to rush to the office…

1. Cushion your time with clothes. By this I mean grab whatever you first see. It can be hanging in the closet, it can be laying on your floor…heck, it can even be in your laundry basket. If it matches then to hell with anything else! Really my only rule is don’t wear the exact same thing 2 days in a row (the exception to that rule is Sunday to Monday. Anything flies on Monday because Sunday was probably a pretty good outfit and none of your coworkers saw you then anyway). The only cautionary item I would advise on is smell. If you are pulling from a crumpled mess, give her a wiff to see if you are going to reek of B.O. all day. If the answer is yes then pick the next, less smelly option.

2. Use your stash of double duty beauty products. The thing about this is that I barely have my single duty beauty products. Even on a normal work day I don’t really do my makeup. Why on earth would I bother on a morning where I don’t have time? I save the real makeup for the fancy things like going to watch a movie with a cute boy, or going to a party with a cute boy, or going to cuddle with a cute boy…basically what I am saying is if a cute boy isn’t involved then eye shadow isn’t involved either. My suggested emergency beauty routine involves the old clumpy mascara in your purse, some chapstick and maybe, just maybe some foundation applied at stop lights.

3. Know your knots. Wait, there are other hair options besides “greasy-sick-bun” when you’re in a rush? Color me surprised!

4. Eat on the go. This actually happens every morning so just carry on as usual.

5. Arrive with grace. Yeah, I don’t really do that. On a good morning my arriving with grace involves wearing my sunglasses until I get inside and sipping on my DC for a minute while I wake up. The bad mornings mean I am probably not taking those same sunnies off until I get to my desk and I probably have 2 cans of DC in my purse along with a donut. I will probably be a real hag to deal with the rest of the day too! As mentioned above, I will likely be in a semi-smelly outfit that is wrinkled and probably has a stain on it somewhere.

I hope you find these tips helpful!

Wait, who?

You guys, I don’t like Nicki Minaj that much. I just don’t. She was in my face, stalking all of America for a solid 4 months before I even knew why I should know who she was. Everyone was all “Nicki Minaj” this “big ass and crazy hair” that, and I was all, “Huh? Who? Why is that lady wearing a leopard print unitard?”. Seriously, she has to have an awesome PR person because we all knew who she was without knowing why we should know who she was. The media tricked us good on that one! Fast forward to the actual release of her singles and all I can say is, Meh. She’s alright and stuff, but I don’t find talking really fast about your butt or whatever particularly fascinating. I have a big butt and no one talks about it! (at least I hope they don’t! I’ll be super sad and self conscious if I find out you guys all really just talk about the size of my butt behind my back! I KNOW I HAVE A SIZABLE BUTT! IT”S GENETIC AND WILL NEVER GO AWAY NO MATTER HOW THIN I GET!!!!!!)

So my feelings about Ms. Minaj brought me to this video. I am sure you have all encountered it by now as it has been showing up on every social media feed 4 times a day for the past 2 weeks. I have a lot of emotions about this video and they can be summed up in one question:

Should I find this adorable, or should I inform DCFS that there are parents out there who are allowing their young and impressionable daughter to learn every lyric to a Nicki Minaj song?



Guys, I am leaning towards the latter.

You guys, I just have no idea why I'm single...

Backseat Judger

Coming at you live from the mom lady's unnecessarily large SUV, complete with weird smell and stickers on the inside of the windows. We are making the trek to the dreaded Utah county to attend a reception for my nearly under age cousin. As we venture further and further into hell, this was the conversation with my 10 year old brother: 

Sam: "How old is Amy?"
Mom: "She's Geoff's age, so she just turned 20"
Sam: .... 
Me: "Stop right there! I don't want to hear it!"
Sam: (snickering)
Me: "I know what you're thinking back there and just don't say it!"
Sam: "WELL YOU'RE 26 AND YOU'RE STILL NOT MARRIED!!!!!" 

You know you've reached a new level of singlehood when the judgement and frustration seeps down from the grandparents and parents to the children.