automatic.

So listen. I don’t know what it is, but when I’m blog-storming (that is, brainstorming for the blog abbreviated—so clever am I), it seems there is a theme. And I do not understand this theme. Because really I am no expert on the subject. In fact, I rarely discuss the subject because I know so little about it. And yet, I have all these great blog post ideas about this particular subject.

I’m sure you’re all dying to know what it is, huh? I guess I’ll be a darling and tell you.

My blog-storming theme these days is cars.

Cars!

Seriously?? Seriously.

“Are you a man blogger?” one may ask after such a revelation.

No, I am female. And I’m assuming 99.9% of my readers are also females, if not 100%. So writing about car matters isn’t exactly appropriate for enlarging my audience, now is it? Nope. Not at all. Good thing I’m not too concerned about the size of my reading pool. Probs it’s shrinking by the minute. But whatevs. So here are my latest thoughts about cars.

I was on a date on Friday night (shocker, I know). Whilst on this first date, my date offered to teach me how to drive stick shift. Because during the course of our conversation, he discovered that I am a 21-year old failure who has never driven stick shift before. My thought on this matter: Who cares? I don’t even own a stick shift car.

But.

Every man’s thought on this matter upon discovering this travesty: Ooh, I will show off my manliness by teaching you something. Called how to drive stick shift.

I cannot count on one hand the number of men who have offered to teach me how to learn stick shift. Pretty sure there have been at least 8 offers (and considering the few dates I have been on, this is quite a lot). All offers have been made while I was on a date with the boy/man.

And yet, here I remain—without any knowledge of driving a stick shift vehicle. Wanna know why? Because, although these guys are so very gracious to offer, it seems two seconds after the offer is made, they disappear from my life. It’s a recurring theme. I’ve come to recognize it. And so whenever any man offers to teach me to drive stick shift, I say: “Sure! That would be so great.” But I’m really thinking: “That’s never in a million years gonna happen because probs I'll never see you again. Which is really too bad. Because if you did stick around and teach me something, I would give you a shout out on my blog. You missed out. See you never."

go lick someone's elbow.

did you know that if someone else licks your **elbow, you can't feel it?

it's true.

thanks to my almost-sister, i know these things. i'll admit, i was skeptical at first. but then she licked my elbow while my eyes were closed, and guess what i felt? nothing. absolutely nothing. except for tears coming out of my eyes because i was laughing so hard, because hello? someone was licking my elbow. and that is just weird.

regardless, it's true. and i thank my almost-sister for providing me with this useful random fact and source of entertainment.

try it if you don't believe me. actually, try it even if you do believe me. because it's funny. and you know you want to.


**note: it must be the very tip of the elbow.

gimp.

meet my best friend. her name is currently gimp. or peg leg. depending on who you talk to.

but this post is not really about her. (although now that i think if it, i should have a post dedicated to her greatness because she is pretty great. i'll get on that soon...). this post is really about the boot on her foot. and what i learned while she was at the doctor's office getting it. scratch that, it wasn't a doctor's office. it was an urgent care.
here's the thing i learned about urgent care, thanks to the bff jacking up her foot:

urgent care waiting rooms have the worst magazine selection of your entire human life.

not even kidding. i mean, they must have a lot of prego people come in because basically all the magazines were about parenthood or being pregnant and what you're supposed to do when you're pregnant. now, don't get me wrong. i have nothing against pregnant people. but probs they should have provided a more diverse reading selection. because when i'm sitting in a waiting room, i would much rather be reading trashy gossip about trashy people (aka those we call celebrities) than reading about pregnant people workouts and what to expect when you're expecting. because i'm not expecting. that's all i'm saying.

top three.

there are three things i currently cannot live without.

1. funfetti cookies.
seriously. obsessed. i have made two batches in a week's time span and eaten nearly all of them by myself. sure i leave them out for the rest of the family to enjoy, but they don't usually get to them fast enough. obesity is in my future if this pattern continues. not okay.

2. bones.
as in the TV show. as in, i watch it and wish i majored in anthropology. which is a ludicrous wish considering i've never taken an anthropology class in my entire life, and if i had, i would probably have hated. but temperance brennan is my new fictional hero. (i guess i shouldn't say "new" because i'm pretty sure i've never had a fictional hero before. but whatevs.) and booth is just plain attractive. together, they make a great show. season 1: complete. season 2: in progress. season 6: greatly anticipating.

3. country music.
old. tim mcgraw and keith urban. new. thompson square. the band perry.

what have i learned from these three things?
i need a social life. for three reasons.

1. i need people to share my cookies with.
2. i need someone to get me away from the computer screen featuring brennan and booth. because having a TV obsession like this is never very healthy.
3. i need someone to jam to my country tunes with. because doing it alone is just not as fun.

okay. that is all.

get well soon.

remember how i'm sick. and NOT overdosing on ibuprofen.
well, the doctor can't figure out what's wrong with me.
to try and help him, he stole the blood out of my arm and did tests on it. i will not even attempt to recount this experience. it was bad. let's just sum it up by saying i had to sit at the doctor's office for an hour after the blood was taken because the nurse didn't think i was capable of driving home without passing out. awesome.

but that's not the point.
the point is, they did the blood work.
and they still don't know what's wrong with me. (so all the trauma i went through was for nothing. so pissed.)
because the blood says i don't have mono, but the doctor thinks i probably do have mono. how does this make sense?

i will tell you what he taught me:
one out of twenty mono tests are wrong.
so i could have mono even though my blood says i don't have mono. accuracy points do not go to the mono test. that's all i'm saying.
so thanks doctor for teaching me that annoying fact. too bad i can't thank you for figuring out what is wrong with me.

get better soon, me.

ibuprofen: the gateway drug.

i have been sick for the last week.
unfortunately, i was FORCED to go to the doctor, which i was highly opposed to because i figured the doctor wouldn't be able to do anything for me.
i was right.
she said, drink lots of water and take ibuprofen to keep the fever down.
wow, you went to 8+ years of school to tell me that? seriously? but whatevs.
i did as directed.
but when my mom opened the ibuprofen bottle and realized it was near empty, she freaked. and took the pills away from me. she was concerned i was going a little overboard with those little orange pills. i assure you, i was not. in fact, i was on the conservative side of the doctor's orders.
plus, coach sawyer taught me that there's a simple way to know if you've had too many ibuprofen. i believe the direct quote was, "you know you've had too much when white foam starts coming out of your mouth with the words ibuprofen written on it."
and that hadn't happened yet. so i knew my mom had nothing to worry about.

so thanks for all you taught me, coach. it was nice to be able to reassure my mother that i was not overdosing. i knew you taught me something...

finding your soulmate.

i love my family.
i do.
extended included.

there is just this teeny tiny problem with some of my relatives.
that problem being, they think my dating life concerns them. now, i am not opposed to set ups. actually, that's kind of a lie. i hate set ups. mostly because all of my blind dates have been painful. like, really painful. so when family members try to interfere and find my soulmate for me, i am not always a huge fan.
now, some of you might be thinking that i am overreacting.
can i just give you a few examples to show that i am not, in fact, overreacting.

example 1. a salesman comes to our door. selling security systems. my dad strikes up a conversation with said salesman. they talk for thirty minutes. my dad thinks this is a great young man--because you can tell that after thirty minutes of talking. so what does he do? oh, he just suggests to the salesman that he come back in two months when i'll be living at home again. then my dad proceeds to stalk this guy on facebook and plan our wedding. by the way, i met this guy three months later. not bad looking...but really, dad? really??

example 2. so i have this aunt. and she has this friend. this friend is my age. and single. so basically, we're meant for each other. except before we were meant for each other, he was meant for my other cousin. only problem is, my other cousin got married. so NOW he is meant for me. and i am meant for him. my picture has been shown to him on previous occasions. and yet, he hasn't called me. my aunt refuses to give up. pretty sure he isn't interested. really, aunt? really??

example 3. another aunt. at work. attractive young man comes in for a job interview. she's the secretary so she starts talking to him. she finds out he went to my high school. in fact, we have known each other since we were in kindergarten. she tells him he should ask me out. um. he's had that option for about 15 years now. if he wanted to, he would. so probably you shouldn't just suggest things like that and make me look desperate. thanks, aunt.

example 4. grandma. i love you grandma. but when you go to a wedding reception and start talking to the DJ, and you find out that he goes to a singles ward (so OBVIOUSLY he's single.), please do not write down my name and tell him that he should find me on facebook. just a thought. i do appreciate your reassurance that he is attractive and that you wouldn't do this unless "you had a good feeling about him," but really, grandma? really??

now, i would just like to reiterate that i LOVE MY FAMILY! and i have learned (from my mother who lectures me about complaining about their interfering ways--thanks, mom) that they are only looking out for me. because they love me. and want the best for me. but i really think i'm okay in this department. i can handle it. and if i can't handle it, i can always defer to the "finding your soulmate" book that my grandpa gave me.

and if you still think i'm overreacting, then judge me. i just needed to vent. that's all. the end.

expect the unexpected.

i feel like there are some lessons i have to keep learning over and over.

one of those lessons being, life doesn't always turn out how you planned.

and yet, i continue to try and plan my life. when will i learn?

"you're not my type" -sebastian

you know how some people have a 'type'? as in, they always date or like people that have certain similarities. sometimes these similarities are more obvious than other times. for example, i have one friend who dated two guys that could seriously be identical twins. another example, ashley the bachelorette...her type? cavegrobens.

well, i don't have a type. at least i don't think so. i've liked guys with brown, red, blonde, black, and gray hairs. tall, short. blue, hazel, brown eyes. basically, i've been all over the map. it's not that i'm not picky-because trust me, i am. but i've just never liked guys that had obvious similarities.

my old roommates would disagree.
their most recent assessment i have learned is that i do have a type.

that type being: guys who gel their hair and drive trucks.

HA! this is one thing i have learned that i don't necessarily agree with (especially because i can think of several guys i've liked who don't meet this criteria), but whatevs. thought they should get acknowledgement, nonetheless, for at least trying to understand what it is i look for in a guy...

jacked up.

i had two appointments this week--dental and eye.
can i just say i hate appointments? because i do.
you go in after 6 months or a year of "trying" to do all the things they tell you to do...floss, brush, change your contacts every two weeks, don't sleep in your contacts, etc. etc.
but of course you don't do all those things perfectly (if you do, props). and you can't lie to the dentist of the eye doctor because, hello! they can totally tell if you're lying. i don't even understand why they ask you questions like, have you been flossing daily? responses usually go something like, um. well i try, but... and then they cut you off saying, i can tell you haven't been flossing consistently so you should probably work on that.
excuse me, but if you could tell i wasn't flossing, why did you even ask me if i was? unnecessary, methinks. but whatev. fortunately, that didn't happen to me this time. i was a diligent flosser and no scolding occurred at my dentist appointment.
i wish i could say the same about my eye appointment...
okay, so i don't switch my contacts up every two weeks like they say. because i feel like my contacts work just fine for three, four, maybe five weeks. so what's the point? well, apparently the point is to save your cornea from becoming "jacked up." yes, my eye doctor used that exact term to describe my left eye.
his question: have you been changing your contacts like you're supposed to?
my thought: of course not and you know it because you're looking at your computer screen and it tells you that i only had six months worth of contacts that i made last a year so...
my verbal answer: um. no.
his response: i can tell.
my thought: duhh. else you wouldn't have asked that question.
he continues: because your left eye is jacked up.
me: excuse me, please. isn't there a more eye doctor-y term you could use for that? because jacked up in my mind means you're going blind within the week unless you listen to me, and do what i say.
him: then do what i say. but you're not going blind. we do need to take care of this, though, otherwise bad things could happen like eye ulcers.
me: who knew there were such things as ulcers in the eye. but fine. tell me what to do.

anyways, after a bit more scolding and confirming that he was right and i was, indeed, failing to switch out my contacts, he told threw my lenses in the trash and said, glasses only for the next week (boo). plus i had to get some prescription for my eyeballs. and then i have to go BACK to the eye doctor in a week.
dread.

lesson learned: they eye doctor isn't making up stories when he says to change your contact lenses every few weeks. so unless you want a "jacked up" eye like mine, then do what the doctor say. or atleast try...

luke&lorelai

gilmore girls is an addiction of mine.
especially the 24 hours after i take finals. during which time, i spend approximately 14 hours watching gilmore girls and 10 hours sleeping. good times.
now, the only problem with gilmore girls is that luke and lorelai have this ongoing chemistry and everyone wants them to be together--knows that they SHOULD be together. and yet, the majority of the time, they aren't together. they're dating people that nobody else likes, because it's impossible to like them considering the only thing that will make viewers happy is for luke and lorelai to get together (for those of you who are chris and lorelai fans, stop reading my blog. unacceptable. okay, so you don't have to stop reading, but seriously? chris? no.)

my question.
why do all shows do this to us poor viewers??
it's like they enjoy portraying two people that are perfect for each other, but they can never, will never, be together.
exhibits a-e: glee. rookie blue. vampire diaries. covert affairs. one tree hill. (don't judge me for my choice of TV shows.)
and what makes it worse is that the two perfect people are always main characters who you know should be together after watching just fifteen minutes of the very first episode of the series. so annoying.
thankfully, some shows have the decency to allow the two people to get together right before the series ends (OTH, among others). but it is always such the struggle, and then they're only together for like two minutes before it all ends. i mean, at least give me two hours of them being together! two minutes is completely insufficient considering i watched the show year after year waiting for this very thing to happen!!

anyways...

moral of the story: why they do this, i do not know. this is something i have yet to learn so if you know the answer, please enlighten me. and you could be the next person i give a shout out to--that alone should be incentive for you to want to figure this dilemma out. ha!

white rice.

so a few weeks ago, i dropped my ipod in the tub.
it happened. don't judge. or do, whatevs.
and to be clear--yes, the tub was filled with water.
it wasn't completely ruined. i mean, it still played. although i couldn't change the volume, or the song. also the pause button (which is also the turn me off button) was broken so it just played until it ran out of battery. annoying.

i was pissed. i did not want to pay for a new ipod. i did not have the cash monies nor the desire to reupload music. such the pain.

fortunately, i decided to complain to my friend about this.

thank your *ernobabe101 for teaching me a trick to revive my ipod.
the trick: bury said pod in rice.
wait a few days.
tada.
all fixed.

it really worked.
if you don't believe me--drop your ipod in a tub and try it for yourself.


*for purposes of anonymity (also my own amusement), real live names have not been used. instead, they have been replaced with 7th grade IM names. cool.

like father, like daughter.

i have a lot of my dad's qualities.
i have his toes.
his eyes.
his brains.
his nose.
his teeth (unfortunately).
his hair (well, i guess not so much "his" hair as his side of the family's hair but whatevs--same thing).

the list could go on. but for those of you who don't care, i will make my point quickly (at least as quickly as a rambler like myself can make a point): this weekend, i learned my dad and i are similar in another area, as well.

we share the same driving pet peeve.

now, i have known for a while that i drive like my dad. my patience on the road is severely lacking. and i get that from him. i also maintain his attitude that it is perfectly alright to call people names when they do idiotic things while driving. we don't tend to call people names in other situations (okay, HE doesn't tend to do that), but driving is a known exception to that rule. the term "idiotic things" is very broad when discussing drivers for me and my dad. it ranges from people who forget to turn their blinkers off (my dad once changed lanes just because he couldn't stand to drive behind someone who would forget such a thing. i would do that same) to people who text while driving to old drivers (particularly snowbirds) to excessively fast drivers to excessively slow drivers to...well, i think i've made my point.

but i never knew we shared the same driving pet peeve until we were driving up to utah and it happened.
you know when you're driving along, cruising in the left lane because you are not "slower traffic" so you maintain the privilege to drive in the left lane. and while cruising in this privileged left lane, you see in the right lane two semis going nice and slow. BOTH of whom are considered by nearly every human being on the planet as "slower traffic." hence, BOTH of those vehicles should remain for always and ever in the right lane as directed by the sign "slower traffic stay right." however, there often comes a time when semi driver number two thinks semi driver number one is slowing him down (even though, in reality, semi driver number two is only able and willing to go approximately two mph faster than semi driver number one). so semi driver number two decides to pass semi driver number one. seriously semi driver number two?? is this really happening? is it really necessary that you pull out in front of me causing me to slam on my breaks and practically stop all movement in order for you to pass semi driver number one--a task that will take you a significantly large amount of time?? during which time, i will be forced to turn off my cruise control and my travel time will increase. seriously??
what do i say to you?
completely unacceptable...plus a stream of complaints during the entire time in which it takes semi driver number two to pass semi driver number one.
and what did i learn my dad also says to you?
completely unacceptable...plus a stream of complaints during the entire time in which it takes semi driver number two to pass semi driver number one.
i have never been prouder to call this man my father. okay, so that is definitely a stretch, but i was happy to learn that i am more like my dad than i previously knew!

we are one in the same, you see. i couldn't be more proud to call my dad my dad. and for those of you who would peg this quality as road rage, i say--shame on you. it is far from rage. and even if it were rage (which it isn't), it is clearly justified.

like father, like daughter. i love you, dad.

i'm brilliant. shhh...

okay so i was looking over my first few posts on here and i've gotta say, i make myself sound like quite the fool.
thus far i have admitted the following: at one point in my life i didn't know what the national anthem was, i have and continue to make up lyrics, i can't fill up my car with gas without getting it all up on me, and i basically failed my gre practice test.

is there something wrong with this picture?

i submit that there is. because (not to boast or anything), i am kinda smart. or as amanda bynes would say: i'm brilliant. shh...

wanna hear just how brilliant i am?
good.
i will tell you.
this week i learned that something i invented in my head was so brilliant that someone already invented it and it is a real live thing. cool, huH? okay, so maybe that was confusing and doesn't sound as cool as it is, so let me explain further.

two years ago i was "studying" in the basement of the wilkinson center. when i looked over i saw one of my least favorite things ever called a trash can. now, i don't hate all trash cans. just the ones where you have to push on the lid and basically stick your hand in before you can properly dispose of your trash. it's disgusting. nobody wants to touch the lid where a bunch of nast hands have recently been. especially me.
i couldn't quite get over the disgustingness of the trash can before me (note to readers, disgustingness is actually a word according to blogger dot com's spell check). so i pondered. how could i fix this issue? because lids on trash cans really are necessary otherwise there will be a stank in the room. but any trash lid that requires touching is purely disgusting. so...i decided a trash can should be invented that had a swinging lid type thing ON TOP of the trash can. that way, the weight of the trash would tip the lid, easily disposing of your trash. you do not have to touch said lid, plus the stench is covered because there is a lid. brilliant right? right.
mind you, this was two years ago.

well. two days ago, i saw such a trash can. at gammage theatre at "the" arizona state university. i could hardly contain my excitement. i gave myself a pat on the back for thinking of the exact same invention. i wasn't even mad that someone invented it first, because let's face it, i wasn't going anywhere with it and in the meantime, i was required to use nast trash cans. so i'm brilliant. clearly.

so thank you gammage theatre for providing me with evidence in the flesh that i am just a brilliant as a fellow trash can inventor.

GRE=my worst enemy

today i learned the GRE will be the death of me.

take a practice test and you won't have to take my word for it.

gas-uh-leen

it takes at least three lather-rinse-repeat cycles to get the smell of gasoline out of one's hair.
also, one should flush out his/her eye for at least ten minutes after having gasoline get all up in it in order to avoid permanent damage. a trip to the eye doctor is also recommended.

this i learned from attempting to fill my car up with gas. however, instead of getting gas in my car, i got gas all up on my super cute outfit and in my eye. not okay.

nevertheless, thank you dysfunctional gas pump. i am choosing to learn something from you instead of cursing you (nevermind the fact this took 8 months).

music & lyrics

i listen to songs on repeat.
for days.
sometimes weeks.
why?
two reasons.
1. i obsess easily. and once i'm hooked, i'm hooked for a while. this applies to songs. if i like you, i will listen to you. a lot.
2. to learn the lyrics. and sometime i need excessive help in this area.
in a few cases, it has taken me years to discover the true lyrics. but that's okay. if it weren't for repeat, i wouldn't know that my favorite artists were singing:

1. slammin' SCREEN door. NOT slammin' GREEN door.
2. i wanna show all my haters love. NOT i wanna show all that my hair is long.
3. the first date, man i didn't kiss her and i should have. NOT the first eight men didn't kiss her and they should have.
4. whatever happened to amelia earhart. NOT whatever happened to come give me a bear hug.
5. my feet in the water. NOT i pee in the water.

please. do not judge. you know you've sung the wrong lyrics from time to time, too. and if you haven't, well then wow. just...wow.

so patriotic.

i was a junior in high school when i learned it.
i was standing in a stall in the girl's locker room changing my clothes (after showering at the school because that's what cross country runners do after practice ends at 6:30 and you have class at 7).
i started singing.
for some reason, the national anthem was my current theme song. okay, so it wasn't really a theme song, more just a random song that had a way of popping into my head more than any other song (hence the title of this post--so patriotic. yep, that's me. anyways...).
so i was singing.
and then my best friend asked me why i kept randomly breaking out in the star-spangled banner.
i was confused.
i was not singing the star-spangled banner.
i was singing the national anthem! gosh.
so i, in all my stupidity, asked: "if this is the star-spangled banner, then what is the national anthem?"

dead.

silence.

then laughter.

then the reply: "um. the star-spangled banner and the national anthem are definitely the same song. fool." (okay so she probably didn't say fool because she's nicer than that, but i'm sure she was thinking it.)

fool is right. i felt stupid--as i probably should have. i was a junior in high school, after all. i probably should have known these things. but seriously, why does a song need two names? who did that?

but now i know. and now i'm more patriotic than ever.
thank you, best friend, for leading me to my most patriotic ways and teaching me something i should have known long ago.
what would i do without you?

p.s. happy memorial day weekend!

thank you elle woods.

so i went running this morning.
and after i went running, i decided to make a blog.
spontaneous, i know.
i knew i couldn't just do a normal blog where i sign on whenever i feel like it and express my innermost feelings or random thoughts with the cyber world. why? 1. because i don't have innermost feelings. and 2. my random thoughts are way to random for the cyber world to handle. it would get way out of hand, trust me. i have this tendency to ramble about nothing. it's a talent, actually. comes in pretty handy when nobody else feels like talking. but i feel like my ramblings wouldn't be as appreciated if there wasn't at least some semblance of structure to them.
so i had to be creative.
this is where the endorphins really came in handy.
i was pumped. i was happy. and i was ready for a brilliant idea to come to my mind. thankfully, it did (atleast i think it's brilliant. if you don't...well then find another blog to read i guess): i will use my blog to publicly thank all the peopleplacesand/orthings that have taught me things. i mean, you learn something new everyday so there are lots of peopleplacesand/orthings to thank, right? right.

so here goes.

my first shout out goes to elle woods.

she taught me that endorphins make you happy.
and happy people just don't kill their husbands...they just don't.

**one should note that happy people also sometimes take up blogging. hey, it happens. so thank you elle woods. and thank you endorphins.

let's just hope this blogging stint doesn't end when the endorphins wear off...