Remember when...

I distracted myself with pictures of dogs wearing shoes? Because it's SO cute. Well today I was walking to class with the rooms (Michelle) and behold, there lay a real life example of said cuteness. I asked this very friendly girl if I could take a picture of her dog because it's so pretty. Obviously she said yes because I took the picture. What's so great about this dog in particular? Well, could it get any better than a golden retriever guide dog wearing tiny doggy vibrams? It couldn't. Look:

Nuff said.

Someday I'm really going to freak someone out. Today I got lucky.

So Aaron joined a fake frat at Baylor called ZZZ. Ask me how I feel about that later. Anyways, he was initiated on Saturday along with a person I'm vaguely familiar with named Richard Ross. He is friends with a girl I was friends with freshmen year who then proceeded to transfer to OU. So sometimes she comes to visit and I hang out with her and we go see Richard. So last time we went to his apartment and listened to some weird music that at the moment kinda freaked me out but that now I'm all over. But I didn't know what it was called so I decided to message him on Facebook (sometimes I confuse message and massage and it would be really weird to massage him on facebook). The message is as follows:

First, you prob don't remember me but I'm Olivia's friend. I'm willing to overlook you forgetting me if you tell me the music you played us in your apartment that one day which you described as something akin to "skyscrapers grinding". I don't remember what it was because I was trying to focus on not reacting allergically to your cat. If you don't remember that then this just got super uncomfortable. Also.... to make it more uncomfortable I take stalker pictures of you, send them to Olivia and tell her we are hanging out anytime I see you in public. She thinks we are best friends (okay not really since the pics are blurry and from far distances). Lastly, just so you have one more connection to make, I am Aaron Mize's girlfriend who is being initiated into ZZZ tonight. Now I swear I'll end this neverending story... did you ever see that movie? Freaky.

I then realized okay he's going to be totally freaked by this but his response was:

Kayla! Of course I remember you!

That epic music which you are talking about is Dubstep. If you went to Klub Kool-Aid last night then you definitely heard me throw down some bangers.

And that's hilarious that you take pictures of me on the sly! Haha. You should say hey though!! And I didn't know you were dating a ZZZ. That's awesome! I can barely move today I seriously have been sleeping all day. I'm not sure what movie you are talking about, but I bet it was really freaky. haha. But, yes please say hey if you see me on campus and I will do the same.

So then I'm all like. Whoa. Respect. This guy must be cool. Or he was SO freaked out by my message that he repeatedly and nervously typed "haha". And I don't think he knows what he has gotten himself into because I am going to say hello to him every time I see him and by every time I see him I mean I'm going to memorize his schedule and "randomly" bump into him A LOT. He's going to regret making that an open invitation.

And I know you want to see those pictures so I will post the one I didn't already delete:

Also: He wears these shorts on a regular basis and is actually quite vogue style fashioned. It's amazing.

Also also: He's 6'9" and a theater major so I can't really compete with that much personality.

If I could have a super power it would be the power of persuasion. On second thought, I think I already have that one.

On Friday I headed to work at Waco Hall, just a normal day, not realizing that my life was about to change. Because the hall recently purchased a new sound board that does not fit in the old stage manager's console the crew is in the process of building a new one. By "the crew" I mean the boys who know what they are doing and can be trusted with power tools. I tried drilling in a screw and dropped it four times. I am now on paint duty.
As it turned out we were lacking some necessary tools for the job and therefore had to run to Lowes. My boss, three guys I work with, and myself loaded up in the truck and headed to the home improvement warehouse. So I was just pushing the lopsided cart along... trying not to careen it into other shoppers or endcap displays when all of a sudden I saw it. A tiny tape measure.

Me: I HAVE to have this.

Co-workers: Ask Josh (boss)

Me: It's only $2

Co-workers: He's probably going to say no. Especially after we ask him for this new exact-o knife.

Me: But there are SO many uses.

Co-workers: Like measuring things?

Me: Be serious... there are so many MORE uses.

My co-workers then proceeded to doubt me.

Me: You could measure things. You could use it as a makeshift belt. You could use it in place of fishing line. All you have to do is attach bate to the end and throw it out there. You could use it to strangle somebody if you become a hired assassin. You could tie your hair up with it. If you become a seamstress you can measure your fabric or measure people if you become a tailor. If you're losing copious amounts of blood we can use it as a tourniquet.

Co-workers: Then you can pretty much kiss that limb goodbye.

Me: It's an EMERGENCY SITUATION!

Co-workers: Now you just need to convince Josh.

Josh then spotted said tape measure.....

Josh: What is that? And why is it in the cart?

Me: It's a tiny tape measure...... obviously.

Josh: Put it back.

Me: Oh come on. I NEED this!

Josh: Why do you need a tiny tape measure that only measures up to 6 ft? We already have normal sized tape measures that measure much further.

Me: You don't understand. This is not just a measuring device.

I then proceeded to inform him of the many uses. And at this point my co-workers joined in in giving examples of ways to use it.

-dog leash

-ferret leash

-cat leash

-decorative headband

-blindfold for an infant

-make-shift handcuffs in case of citizen's arrest

-keychain (it really is a keychain)

And then, I put forth my closing argument... which I'm pretty sure was the selling point.

Me: It's also a money maker!

Josh: How could it possibly make money?

Me: So we get a group of people and they all put a dollar in the pot. We say, "We are going to play the sound game. Everybody will close their eyes, we will make a sound and whoever guesses correctly wins all the money in the pot" which we will tax but not tell them until the game is over. "If nobody guesses correctly then we keep the money." Then everybody will be so sure they can guess and throw their money in. We will then pull out the tiny tape measure, feed the yellow metal measury thing out and shake it so it gives off that weird twangy metal sound. Nobody will EVER guess it is a tiny tape measure so we will win all the money every time.

Josh: Just give it to me.

Ladies and Gentlemen, THAT is how you convince your boss to buy you something you absolutely need.

Today I went to the mall with Aaron and proceeded to measure everything I saw. He was immediately annoyed and repeatedly asked me to stop. This thing has basically already paid for itself.

Here's me measuring the cookies I made:

I love this thing.

Why 8 AM texting should not be allowed.

I'm not a morning person so the conversations I have in person or via text cannot be held against me.

Disclaimer: If talk of eliminating men from the world or sperm donations offends or bothers you.... please don't read this post.

It all began when my sister texted me this tidbit before I headed for class........

Kelsey: Rihanna just had a sex tape leaked. Shocking or just a Thursday...?

Me: Oh boy. What's with the obsession of filming something nobody wants to see? Actually its prob just me that doesn't want to see that.

Kelsey: Yeah there are sick people out there. They're called boys.

Me: If only we didn't need them to keep from extinction. I wonder how long all the sperm in the sperm banks would last us.

Kelsey: Good idea. You pay for the diff sperm. Like homeless Joe would be $5 and Ryan Reynolds would be $5 million. We could stimulate the economy.

Me: It would be a shame to kill off Ryan Reynolds. So do they each have to donate before they go? We need to work out the logistics.

Kelsey: Yeah, But the process of obtaining the samples.... I would not want to be part of that.

Me: Me neither... all the women who voluntarily made the sex tapes with the men have to do that.... they will rue the day they put that nasty stuff on film.

Kelsey: I need to start saving now if I want Ryan Reynolds' babies. U think he's a believer?

Me: Hmmm, well he was with ScarJo soooo, probably not, unless he was evangadating/marrying

Kelsey: Hmmmmm, good point.

Me: Also, based off her lyrics I'm really surprised that Rihanna would do that.

Kelsey: Me too, I figured her more of a disney channel sitcom kinda girl.

Me: Yeah, wholesome... More "that's so raven" than porn star.

Kelsey: Totally. Poor girl. Where are her parents?

I then went on to respond "Africa?"... offensively enough, and Kelsey was kind enough to inform me that in fact she's from the Bahamas. I'm an idiot.

In unrelated news... I got a tattoo sleeve.

I just remembered

So I'm newly addicted to a blogger called the bloggess. She is hilarious.

http://thebloggess.com/2011/06/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/

Just read this, you will laugh so hard you can hardly breath then when you're done you will think, "I just read an entire blog post about a giant metal chicken and laughed so hard I couldn't breath."

Well this woman leads an amazing life and her blog about it is even more amazing minus the vulgarity. And so many things happen to her/ she does so many mental things that I just want to be like her. And I want Aaron to change his name to Victor. I haven't suggested it but I imagine he will agree to do so.

Now commence normal blogging.

So there we are deep in the heart of Disney World waiting in line to ride the Rockin' Roller Coaster.

It's hot, it's humid, and the line is long. The people behind us are uncomfortably close because they want to move the line along.

I look down to check my phone and text my dad

and the line moves so I absent-mindedly begin walking forward....

not realizing the line had stopped when ALL OF A SUDDEN..........

a giant sweaty man is RIGHT in front of me. All I have time to do is close my eyes, accept what's about to happen, and apologize profusely afterwards.

So there I was.... without warning, mouth open, face squashed into Pits-McGee.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why technology is bad for your health.

I've yet to contract any disease from said sweaty giant but expect one any day now.

Just when I think

my life has hit rock bottom on the likert scale of lame, I discover a new low.

Okay so you know when you show up early somewhere and you have nothing to do so you quietly thank Steve Jobs for inventing smart phones and then pull yours out? And you know that awkward time when you've already checked your email and refreshed your facebook/twitter notifications to the point where you're almost in tears thinking nobody cares about you? And you hope nobody walks behind you and sees that you're googling stupid stuff like the gestation period of any given animal or what Matilda looks like now. But you have NOTHING to do, so you just keep surfing the interweb and trying to use your mind powers to speed up time. Well imagine that ten minutes expanded over the course of an entire day and half.

I moved into my new apartment (THE PACKING IS FINISHED!) thanks to mom and dad. Of course the uhaul contract stated that the trailer must be returned by 7 which means my rents had to leave by 4. So I'm all like, "you suuuuure you can't stay longer?" (with mopey eyes and a quivering lip). And my parent's are all like "see ya later sucker!!!!!" (but maybe more nurturing than that). So I watch them drive away hoping my reflection in the rear-view mirror will be enough to make them stay. Then, when they've turned the corner and feelings of abandonment kick in I walk in my new digs, lock the door and try to keep the fear of being alone for two days at bay.

So here I am in Waco... with nothing to do and no internet or cable at my apt. because they set up on tuesday. And all I can think is, "I really need to get on ebay right now!" "I really need to get on facebook RIGHT now!" "I really need to check (insert store name)'s hours RIGHT NOW!" So I have all this pent up anxiety about when the store closes, and how my ebay auction is going, and who's posting new pictures on facebook, and I realize I must find the internet.

So here I am sitting in the McAlister's parking lot in my car with my laptop crunched between my body and the steering wheel, hoping nobody walks by and sees me googling current Matilda pictures.

P.S. before you say "why not go to starbucks you idiot" please note that I did go there and it was packed so full that all I could see was bodies lining the window.

P.P.S. I wonder if the car that just pulled up next to me knows that McAlister's closes at ten and it is currently 10:01.... apparently not.

P.P.P.S I didn't want to run my battery down or waste gas so I have the car off and the sun-like temperature of my laptop base mixed with the heat inside my car is probably cooking my insides.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhck

Hey remember like five min. ago when I told you my personal hell includes endless packing? And you know how moving is the most involved form of packing ever? Guess who's moving this Saturday?

So my mom thought it would be good to encourage me by "helping" me sort through all of my things. By "help" I mean lay on the bed in the room and make helpful comments such as, "what's in that box over there?" or "Are you sure you want to leave all of this stuff here? We could get rid of all of it and completely clear out your room!" or "I think I'm just gonna go downstairs... you're good right?"

Of course I can't disparage her altogether as she did accompany me to her office to pick up packing boxes and made me chocolate cake... and made ME for that matter.

So I'm not yet to the point where I'm lying defeated surrounded by used school supplies and towels, but I'm getting there.

And... I'm moving into an unfurnished apt. which means u-hauls, broken backs, and tip-of-the-tongue curse words being held in by tight lipped, highly frustrated, jaw clenching family members.

SERENITY NOW

Guess what time it is....

PHONE DUMP!

For the next ten minutes you get to scroll through all the photos I'm dumping from my phone to the computer. Enjoy my mediocre life.

Sidenote: watching project runway and the models are on stilts. This is ridic.

Also: These are in NO order because blogger uploads pictures in an annoying fashion.

The tradition of dressing Graham before his mom woke him up from his nap and discovered a surprise continues.

Maaaaaaaagic. Double Head. I'm her mother.... no. she's. not.

One of the first things I saw coming into the park...naturally I immediately thought of Erin.

Epcot: Land of eternal heat and boredom.

Figured a certain texas-ex I know would appreciate this.

Amazed that the shirt my sister bought at Disney is still there 15 years later.

Best ride ever. We forced Juliana to ride it and after the ride was over we looked over at her and she was literally clapping her hands out of joy. Made my day.

An-nyong

D World. Though it was magical, please note I never lost my loyalty to Harry while I was there.

After many hours of hard labor myself, my mother, and my father turned a boring white dresser into THIS... for my bedroom. Amazing no?

Milkshakes are the best when they come with the metal cup.

HP Which Wich.... I tweeted this pic and Which Wich tweeted @ me twice! I'm a celeb.

Aaron and I decorated cookies with his sister Juliana and cousin Whitney. Therefore he made Boba Fett. Not surprising.

Mine was the Deathly Hallows.. also not surprising.

This summer I had the best job ever.

Not only is he the cutest kid, he also drives so I can sit back and relax.

Wall hanging project. I love it... just gotta find a place to put it now.

Oh come on.

Face goo = hours of fun in the car

Don't ask, not even I know.

I'm gonna miss my "red-headed" sister. Cough cough.

This is my brother-in-law Tyler as per Kelsey's interpretation.

I don't need to tell you that this is obviously my sister Erin which you can see because she was drawn so accurately. The artist wishes to remain anonymous.

This is King Graham. He reigns, adorned with plush blankies, with an iron stuffed animal.

This is Graham the infant-mutant-awkward-turtle. And his pretty "ma-ma"

Aaron and I had a drawing contest... the juxtaposition of my scream mask beneath Dobby became somewhat x-rated by complete accident.

TADA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If hell was specific to each person...

mine would be packing a suitcase.... in a water park.

I'm not going to a water park (ever again) but I AM packing because my boif's fam was nice enough to invite me to Disney World. So you probably think, "Kayla, the least you could do is pack a bag without waiting till the last minute and complaining the whole time." And you're probably right. But why pack a bag when I could.... look at pictures of dogs wearing shoes!

Come on, does it get any better than dogs wearing shoes... or anything they shouldn't be wearing for that matter?

Why is packing SO terrible you ask? Well, if you're asking, then you're probably a boy. Because I think most girls hate the tedious task of going through every piece of clothing only to discover that it all sucks. All of it. Yesterday, before I was going on vacation, I had nice clothes that fit well and weren't terrible. Now... I'm realizing that the amount of pictures taken of me is going to increase exponentially in the next week and the clothes that were just fine are now dramatically insufficient. So I spend hours in my room trying on outfit combos getting stressed not only by the fact that I have no idea what to pack but also by the floor of my room as it is slowly taken over by the previously stated ugly clothes.

Oh and let's not even get into the fact that I'm going to the beach for two days. I just close my eyes and stuff the bathing suit in the bag hoping it rains so I don't have to go through the dreaded process of stepping out in less coverage than my underwear provides while effortlessly skinny girls frolic in the sand. Maybe since I'm going to the most shark infested beach in the country (fact)

I can use my irrational fear of sharks (that doesn't really exist) as a reason to stay in my cover up under an umbrella reading horror books (which I've recently gotten into to keep from forcing said boif to go to scary movies with me). Or... the skinny girls will be eaten. Either way I'm happy.

I started packing with a plan.... underwear, shorts, shirts, shoes... wait how many pairs of shoes? what kinds of shoes?! WILL I HAVE ROOM FOR ALL THE SHOES?! shirts? nice shirts?! or t-shirts?!?! SHIRTS??!?!?!? shirt... that's a funny word.

At this point the plan has broken down and I'm sitting on a pile of wrinkled laundry wearing a dress over my jorts with my hair knotted on top of my head and striped socks on my feet.

Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and the world will have reverted back to pre-fall-of-mankind and I won't have to worry about what to pack.

Oh to be sinless in the garden without jealousy over another's fig leaves.