That girl with the crazy arm...

This is now.

Remember when we had P.E. together and your arm looked like this?

I'm glad we're friends.

Radiohead

I've failed as a sister.
We're driving home from Eric's basketball game today and fighting over the radio, as usual. I'm skipping past all the stupid junk that's on nowadays (I feel like an old granny, but it's true) and all of the sudden Brennon pipes up: "GO BACK! I LOVE THAT SONG!" What? Brennon could usually care less about what's on, he just bops his head, and occasionally smiles if I'm dancing like an idiot. But this song, apparently, was so wonderful that he HAD to have it on. I switched it back and tears filled my eyes.
Taylor Swift, Love Story. SERIOUSLY???!!
So I laugh and respond, "No, no, you don't want that song. That song is stupid." I keep flitting through the stations and start to notice Brennon is singing something. I stop for a minute. He sings louder: "You'll be the prince/and I'll be the princess..." AGHHHH!!!!! Who stole my child in the middle of the night and corrupted him?? Criminals, roaming free...preying on innocent little good-music loving boys. What is this world coming to?
I wish it ended there.
ADELE, Chasing Pavements came on.
*If you haven't partaken of the incredible blend of talent and amazingness that is ADELE yet, you can do so here.
(I know-amazing, right?!)
I'm singing along at the top of my lungs, and Brennon shouts over me: "Please change it!"
askjdkj.dklaf.
Luckily I still had Eric on my side-or so I thought-when we were walking in the door and he asked, "Does she say 'chasing pavements' or 'chasing penguins'?"

I've got my work cut out for me, apparently.

Allergies

Ben had a hen whose name was Jen.
Jen the hen lived in a pen.
The pen was made by ten men.

Write your own sentence using the following words:
Ben, hen, Jen, pen, men, then, yen.

Brennon's sentence:
Ben gets rid of the hen.
"Because, because, one of the ten men is allergic to the hen, I think. Not the other nine men, just one. So, so, Ben had to get rid of the hen."

This kid is way too smart to only be in kindergarten.

Love Sandwich.

Where are you every night at nine-thirty?
I am skipping down the stairs, brandishing my Office theme song-singing phone and gathering my best friends together around our busted coffee table. The alarm title in my phone? "Apt. Prayer!!"

*Tangent: I wish they had churchy ringtones so that could be the alarm instead of the Office. Well, The Office is practically a religion, too...but that's an entirely separate topic.

I love apartment prayer. It gives me that inexplicable feeling-the only word I can think of is 'full.' Entirely filled. That's why I'm always laughing obnoxiously and jumping around when I'm home, especially on a night like tonight when I have been studying the scriptures for homework (wow, I love BYU) for two hours and I just feel good, no matter what the day was like! And the love sandwich after? Oh, mama.

*Side note: a love sandwich is a Beecher home original. It's basically a group hug, but includes extra amor-plus calling it a love sandwich is way cooler. In Apt. 304 it is around said busted coffee table and usually includes copious amounts of back rubbing, giggling, and head-down aura-partaking.

Mmm, can't wait until 9:30 tomorrow night.

Chin up, kiddo.

I feel like writing but want no one to feel like reading.

I want to crawl away, belly down, chin up, eyes looking at the sun. Everyone always tells you you'll burn holes in your eyes and go blind if you look at the sun-but everyone's done it, and we're still seeing...and sometimes looking again-accidentally, or with sunglasses, or through a cloud...it's all still looking again, though, isn't it?

Chin up, kiddo.

Confessions of a Former Fashion Addict

They should make Fashion-a-holics Anonymous.

I used to be one-wishing to be a model in Vogue, start a trend, be up on the latest of everything. It took me years to realize it's just stuff. Bags and shoes and fabric-millions of dollars, for what?

OH my gosh it's ridiculous! I have to roll my eyes at the hours I spent poring over Allure and every beauty book the public library had. I knew Armani to Vera Wang and everyone inbetween, all the coolest vintage shops in Manhattan and the best dresses of 2005. I knew how to make a facial from bananas and avacados, and that putting egg yolks in your hair didn't actually do anything. I positively worshipped the hot pink tights I got at Nordstrom's and Lancome's free samples, the photographer on America's Next Top Model and Moschino perfume. But the best part about all this crap? It pretends it wants you to love you for you and embrace your faults. Cindy Crawford's Basic Face taught me about loving moles. Bobbi Brown taught me that wrinkles are beautiful. But do any of us really believe it? Obviously not, because we are still reading, splurging, nipping, tucking, and caring!

This is the stuff we live our life in. Clothes and all that. I'm sure grateful we are still wearing clothes-that the chubster on the bus next to me hasn't learned to love his faults enough to let them all hang out. It can be an art form, sure-I'm all for self-expression. But we have to recognize illusion for what it is!

So what can be done for all the fashion addicts out there? I think this realization only comes with time and the recognition of all the real beauty in the world. Thanks, Cindy-but you can keep your mole and millions of dollars, and I'll keep my $5 Wal Mart sweats.

Whoopi

I wanna be Whoopi.
Although I'd like to think I'm a slightly better singer than her-plus I have eyebrows, which is a bonus.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLY7yI1xV-M

i's goooooddd.

The most fantastic, stretching, wonderful experiences have been happening lately.
To me and to the people I love-so many things!
I talk about this all the time, literally-but my fantastic wonderful experience of the week was deciding that I'm going to be a music teacher-no looking back, no second thoughts. I know it's going to be hard but WOW it's gonna be great.
Why is it so great?! Every day we talk about how freaking wonderful our lives are and how much we love each other.
Okay, pause-this blog is not going to be well-written. It is simply a celebration of the goodness and happiness that's in this life even when we feel like things haven't totally come together, and when they have and are and do! (I told you-don't expect no literary mastapiece.)

This is the stuff I came to college to learn about.
Dreams and reality and how they fit together. My will and God's. Others and me. Us. People. And, as ashamed as I sometimes am about it, looooove.
"We love each other!"

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream.

I was just a little sick of Obama being at the top of my blog page.

I had the most amazing hour and a half with Katie tonight. I can't even explain why it was so great! We just talked and laughed and ate dinner and ice cream, considered chopping her some straight-across bangs and facebooked.
I think that's how you determine the friends you'll have for the rest of your life-even moments that are normal are magical because you're having them together.

That's my cheesy thought of the day.