spinster, loner, whatev.

sometimes, most the time, i act like a spinster. or a loner.

for example i often seclude myself in my room on tuesday nights with a can of coke and an episode of the bachelorette. (which thank you roomies, i am addicted to. it's fabulous.)

tonight i hit a high that can only be described as religious lonerness.

i went to the movie charlie st. cloud. at a movie theater. by myself.

let me explain how this event happened. (by the way, the previews for the movie event.... totally creepy to me.) (haha totes creep tess. totes.)

you know when you wake up in the morning and you decide, "i'm gonna try today, cause i want to look cute tonight to go do something." so you curl your hair and wear make up and maybe make a savers stop to get something awesome.

but then, nothing happens. everyone is gone. or busy. and you feel like doing something anyway.

lately i've pulled away from the need to have some one else with me in order to enjoy myself. i think that might mean i'm grown up. ew. so cause i wanted to i went to a movie. with myself. i even got all dolled up and it was great.

i was a loner tonight. completely. and i loved it. i think i might take myself to a movie next week too.

(if loner was a religion would you have to worship alone? ponderous.)

never give up. never surrender.

We are going on an adventure. a crusade of sorts. to conquer a river called snake. in a state called wyoming. at a campsite named creek station. we are going to test our strength, to show nature we are strong. and we will succeed! but mostly we'll just eat a ton of delicious food.

my family (extended and such) go to the snake river every other year for a beloved river run. it's delicious fun. allow me to show you how we prepare.


first, we say goodbye to my favorite person.
then pack up the hoodies. the big boy ones that don't show dirt. mmm, perfect.
always needed are more games than any one will play
and oh yes please some of mom's fresh salsa
and these sexy things are a must.


so goodbye world for a week as i go to live in nature and enjoy myself.

Amen.

"To any who may be struggling to see [the] light and find

hope, I say: Hold on. Keep trying. God loves you. Things

will improve."

-Jeffery R. Holland.

talk found here

invasion.

yesterday my house was invaded.

it was terrifying.

i even had to run away for a bit.

luckily, i made it out alive.

fourteen year old boys are a different species. but a species i thought i understood,

being that i often have the maturity level of an average fourteen year old boy.

poop is funny. so kill me.

what i didn't understand was that in concentrations of 20, fourteen year old boys are a lethal weapon.

a loud, inappropriate, swarming, lethal weapon.

some words to the wise:

1. don't feed them hot dogs. they get too much enjoyment out of saying wiener.

2. don't give them water balloons while still within range of their throw.

3. run. run far away, to the juice press for a smoothie.

4. don't expect to sleep when 10 of them sleep over.

5. love that your brother is in heaven so as to refrain from head biting.

my friends and I...

We do summer right.We hang out.
And just let life slide.

We jump through hoopsAnd show our love
We walk on water
And love small children...
Cause we're creepers.
Suppa creepers.

We have great dynamics.Especially when I'm farther away...
And sometimes when I'm close too.
Mostly though, we just have fun.
Cause that's what summer is for.

rules of the rant

This is an instructional guide to the ancient form of ranting. A form passed on to me from my elder brother Ian.

People don't always realize what an art form a true rant is. A well structured, passionate rant can be as succulent as a swollen peach. Delicious and juicy to the last drop. And trust me, Ian's rants were always the best of the bunch.

How does one begin such a delicate thing as a rant? With a rhetorical question. This can be delivered in several different ways. You can begin with a simple, understated rhetorical question that will lull the listener into a false sense of security so that the rant is a sneak attack! Or the question itself can be the signal to the beginning of a beautiful rant so that the listener can properly prep themselves for the word ballet they are about to witness. There are other techniques to dropping the bomb of rhetorical beauty, and skilled ranters will often have a signature drop.

The next step to a rant, and my favorite, is the layering on of heavy sarcasm. Be generous. Make the people feel it drip from every word. Let them sink deep into the sarcasm ocean and pull them out right before they lose all breath. They will think you cynical for a moment, but only until you move to the next step.

Now here is the backbone of your rant. A rant is basically a one sided argument. So have structure and proof! You must structure your rant like a great speech. You must hit your points, and hard! Like Winston Churchill once said, "Use a pile driver. Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time- a tremendous whack!" Whack your points almost to death, but leave them barely breathing. With just enough life that your audience doesn't feel you have worked your point too hard. Don't let them feel sorry for the point. Back up everything you say. Have proof. It is the marrow in the backbone. Without it the whole rant animal falls apart.

Finally you must end in a way that puts you in a humble light. Let them know that you know what you are talking about, and that you are most definitely right. But don't let them think you think so, or that it is your idea.

A rant is a tight rope. You must walk the line between over rant and under rant. It's a purely beautiful act of skill and timing. You must know when to take the next step, and when to pause for dramatic effect.

Go forth young ones. And rant well.

just a litttle baby

Sometimes I think about how old I am. I'm just a baby. But I'm in college. And I'm supposed to be learning things. And doing things. And becoming great things. How does one do that when they still feel 12? And people I know, people younger than me, are doing and becoming such grown up things.

But I'm not a grown up.

I'm just a baby.

But I have a grown up job. I go to grown up school. I pay for things like a grown up. I live in an apartment in the fall. Just like a grown up. My body is all grown up. I'm raised, I'm done, turn the oven off and take me out.

But I am not a grown up.

I'm a baby in grown up clothes, just learning where my legs are.

Just a little baby....with grown up things to do.