Here comes me

That's right, you heard it here first folks... Actually you probably heard it first from my mom's pinterest page which is very suggestive of the fact that I am now engaged.

I know what you're thinking... does this mean Kayla's blog is going to stop being amazing? If you weren't thinking that, you either have faith in me or you didn't think I was amazing to begin with.... which if we are honest, is more likely the case.

So here I am, in engaged bliss just soaking up the.....the.... I don't know. Everything seems pretty much the same aside from the giant ball of unplann-ed-ness that's now hovering precariously overhead (and the slight panic I have anytime I forget I took my ring off and now I'm suddenly overcome with a collapsing fear that I lost it). This is not to say that I'm not excited (because I am!!!!!!!!) but what with preparing for graduation, looking for work for next semester, and applying to grad school, I'm just a tad busy. That's okay though because I'm pretty sure my mom doesn't want the wedding to be a disaster so I've devised a plan (stolen from Ray Barone).

Anytime decisions must be made, I'm going to make them poorly.

Mom: What type of flowers Kayla?
Me: I was thinking of a few corpse flowers

Mom: Maybe we'll just do some peonies and roses.

Mom: What about colors or bridesmaid dresses?
Me: I'm leaning towards orange and camo

Mom: Maybe I'll look around for something a little prettier

Mom: Groomsmen?
Me: Kilts?
Mom: Music?
Me: Yeezy?

Mom: Food?
Me: Potluck?
Mom: Cake?
Me: Nah

I don't imagine I'll make my way through that entire list before she plans the whole thing for us. Let's just keep our fingers crossed eh?

Is there an opposite of bridezilla? I'm so NOT in control that everybody will hate me by the end of it just as they would have had I been demanding things such as uniform chili-bowl haircuts among all wedding party members, which now that I think about it would promote a nice sense of symmetry on stage.

All of this being said, please don't leave thinking I'm not excited for what is to come. I've been blessed with a  guy who puts up with the social awkwardness and sarcasm that usually drives others away... and that is not something I take for granted.

I'm in love I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!


Stay tuned for more because I already have my next post planned. It's not about weddings so don't be deterred if you are a dude.

Geniuses.. Geni?... No it's definitely geniuses.. right?

My family is made of pure genius. I say this because their response to getting a call at 11PM the night before we fly home from vacation saying our flight was cancelled, isn't "I'm writing a strongly worded letter to American Airlines" (well that was one person's response) but rather:

Person 1: "I'm going to pee all over their toilet seats in the airplane bathroom."
Person 2: "Forget the toilet, I'm going directly on my seat."
Person 1: "It's going to be really unfortunate when the plane lands in water and you have to use your now-pee-soaked seat cushion as a flotation device...."

Names were omitted in order to protect the, in this case, guilty.

Also, Kelsey was the genius who suggested the plural form of genius is geni, so in reality my family is made of idioti.... but I love em.

What happens when you pit a deranged man and his slightly unhinged offspring against each other in war?

Answer: Zombie Lemon Apocalypse

A couple weeks ago my dad, headed towards the trashcan, held up a lemon and said, "Isn't this the saddest lemon you've ever seen?"

Naturally I took the lemon and a sharpie and drew a frowny face on it saying, "No, THIS is the saddest lemon you've ever seen."

Dad told me to throw it away but instead, being my normal annoying self, I hid it in his bedroom.

The next day, the lemon was in my room with a tear drawn on his face 

Not to be out played, I turned the tear into a scar.... because you'd be scarred too if someone was about to throw you in the trash, and put him back behind enemy lines.

Taking this as a sign that the lemon was suddenly a tough guy, dad added.... a mom tattoo, and hid him in my bathroom.

Well, I couldn't let this tough lemon keep such a cute/ sad face... so I gave him a mean streak. He waited in the cup holder of dad's car.

Hoping put an end to the battle, dad added x's for eyes and a twine noose and hung him from my bedroom doorknob.

Now here is where it gets good, because now I have real pictures.

After it was clear that I had seen the hanging, dad looked sternly into my eyes and said, "with death, it ends" which, in any other situation, could have been a very poignant and poetic expression. As it were, he was speaking about an old lemon with sharpie covering it's shriveled peel. 

Naturally my response was, "So you would think..."

Hence, Zombie Lemon Apocalypse..... phase one. I hid this gem in my dad's sock drawer...

And thusly discovered the zombie back from, not only the dead, but the sock drawer, perched atop my toothbrush holder.

with tiny garden shears lodged in his tiny lemon cranium. 

Well I've been laying low for a few days now, awaiting an opportune moment to strike. And what do zombies love to do? 

Eat brains. 

After price checking tiny pianos, safes, and anvils at Hobby Lobby, with the idea of crushing my zombie lemon, dad gave up and forfeited. Apparently paying $14 for a doll house piano was not worth it to him. His loss... literally... he lost. 

And this is one more example of why I am as messed up as I am... it's because my family enables the crazy. 

Let's stop pretending Kermit's arms don't move by way of tiny poles, shall we?

Unless you live under a rock, you probably knew that a Muppet movie recently came out (I just looked up the release date and it was apparently last November, so if you are living under a rock, I apologize for judging you). I didn't see it but heard good things. But there is something oddly unnerving to me about the Muppets.

Why won't anybody admit that they aren't real? 

Are they real? 

I'm fairly sure they aren't as they are mostly made of felt and have tiny poles attached to their arms for dexterous purposes. And yes, Jim Henson was a thing (who looked like the love child of the old man with the shovel from Home Alone and Jafar's beggar disguise) and if you wikipedia Kermit/ the Muppets, it does talk about who portrays them... but that's all on the computer my friends. 

When it gets down to real life, the Muppets, are real. 

They have to be. Why else would they appear on SNL and talk shows without anybody mentioning the person hiding under the chair in, what I can only imagine, is a very uncomfortable position?

Come on people.... they have a blooper reel.

This will continue to baffle me.... for forever (can you just say forever or do you have to say for forever? I can never figure this one out)

If I hadn't helped, she'd probably still think Arkansas is an acceptable place for humans to live.

----this is still not the post I was talking about posting, I just realized this was an unfinished draft, and if I'm going to not blog for months, I might as well return with a bang... not a whimper*----

How did I help you ask? (ugh sometimes I hate myself for writing stupid questions like that) I provided her with some excellent tips on how to get accepted into Baylor/ nail down an apprenticeship. Done and done.

Here are the tips I emailed Erin throughout the day as she interviewed at BU.  

Tip 1: Baylor LOVES money. At some point during your interview process, take out your wallet and accidentally drop a $100 bill on the ground. Make sure Baylor representatives are watching. You’ll know they saw it if their eyes turn into dollar signs.

Tip 2: At some point it would be helpful to mention your baptism (by immersion because honestly, do the others even count?) even if it doesn't seem to flow with the conversation at hand. Baylor's affiliation with the BGCT is not to be forgotten.

Tip 3: In normal speech, replace the word very with BEAR-y. Ex: I am BEAR-y excited to tour campus. –or- Thank you BEAR-y much for the opportunity to interview with you. Not only will this convey your love for Baylor but also you’re adorable child-like enthusiasm.

Tip 4: Incorporate Baylor specific lingo in conversation (will impress all parties) Ex: I can't wait to work out at the slick (McLane Student Life Center) -or- Maybe we should grab lunch at the SUB (Bill Daniel Student Union Building) -or- I just love the BSB (Baylor Science Building, not the Big Science Building, which is what Aaron and I were convinced it was called for almost our entire freshmen year) -or- Is there anything better than gazing at Joy and Lady? (Our two North American black bears, who are actually sisters!)

Tip 5: Order Dr. Pepper when eating meals, and carry a Dr. Pepper with you at all other times. This should be a can or bottle. Dr. Pepper from Sonic is not an acceptable substitute because the point is for Baylor to know that you are drinking a good ole fashioned DP.

Tip 6: DO NOT share colorful anecdotes about any sexual  experiences in college. Ouachita may be progressive, but leave it in Arkansas. Us Baylor girls keep our knees together, even after marriage.**

Tip 7: Never say never because Justin Bieber doesn't and his girlfriend is coming to Baylor (we can only hope)

Tip 8: If all else fails, and you don't know what to say, just talk about your extreme distaste for all things A&M. If there's one thing we Christians hate, it's anything that comes out of college station, whether it be an Aggie, collies, white towels, or simply the sound of a whoop. 

So thanks, dedicated readers, for BEARing with my tips. Now I've got two new friends in the Wack, who I can only imagine will be providing home cooked meals for yours truly... I mean it's the least they could do right?

*Yes, I know that's not how it goes.

**Tip 6 was edited due to possibly... slightly... maybe a bit of.... inappropriateness. I mean, I've got a wide audience folks... I don't want to offend anyone... I am a Baylor girl after all. ;)

I've got a really good post coming that is classic carpenter but for now...

enjoy your nightmares tonight

And that's why we're in love. 

Also... Does anybody have a cure for nightmares.... seriously cause I've been having them a lot (by a lot I mean I've probably had 5 or 6 in the last month) recently. I will either need therapy real soon... OR... I might harness this terribleness and become the next Stephen King. Eh? 

For the lady who's candy I wasn't able to open...

In your honor, I've painted you the creepiest portrait ever. It's like when tattoo artists do portraits and they are gross and distorted and the teeth always turn out weird, only it's from my computer and not permanently inked on your body.

Seriously... what's with that gimpy hand? And surely your forearm doesn't bend at places other than the elbow... 

Either way it's a gift to say sorry I couldn't fix your problem. 

Confessions of a lonely would/should be spinster

Sometimes I look at Aaron and I think, "where would I be without him?"

Not in the, "we're desperately in love and I can't imagine a life apart from him and he completes me" kind of way (given), but more in the "I never took the time to make friends and now if he leaves me I'm screwed so I better just do what he says and keep him happy so he never realizes I'm barely hanging on socially" kind of way.

My roommate (and friend.... just the one) had a surprise for me the other night about which she was texting Aaron. I'm paranoid and hate surprises and lack the ability too express adequate emotion when presented with gifts, so naturally I was doing all but water boarding Aaron to get the needed information. I didn't know who, what or when, but I knew someone, something, sometime soon was goin down.

If you don't know Aaron then you don't know that he is the weakest weakling when it comes to keeping secrets. He wants soooo badly to tell me things (because he is so madly in love and head over heals for me) that it usually takes no more than a bat of the ole eyelashes. This night however, he was particularly strong. To throw me off the scent he showed me the recipient list of a group text between my family members that was from a few days prior and told me that's who he was texting.

I read the names "Kelsey, Erin, Tyler, Daddy, Mommy" and my immediate thought (and regrettably outwardly expressed) was "ALL MY FRIENDS!"

Then, having realized what I said, I crawled into a deep dark hole of oblivion and never came out.

You know those people who work dead-end jobs and they're convinced that they were born to be famous? And you think... come on.. it's not going to happen? Well I'm like the opposite of that. I'm in this relationship that keeps me happy and fed and sometimes all I can think is, "I know I'm perfectly content and have more than I could ever want... but I'm pretty sure I was born to be a lonely spinster."

I have so much trouble making new friends  it's a wonder I was able to land a boyfriend. It's like straight out of a movie. Picture a classroom of students:

Teacher: Can anyone name the 7 wonders of the world?
Student:  Stonehenge, the Colosseum, the Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa, the Great Wall of China, Hagia Sophia, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the fact that Kayla has a boyfriend.

If I outgrow my cat allergy, I'll know it's time to realize my full unpotential (that's a word right?). 

Every time I come home, this strange phenomenon occurs

It happens when my parents go to sleep, it's getting late, and I realize, they've done it again.

In my home, downstairs alone, we have no fewer than 3 million lamps. On any given night approximately 2 million are on. Before retiring to bed, my parents turn off approximately zero of them. I don't realize it until it's one o clock in the morning and my eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen, and my limbs are too tired to even make it upstairs practically, and my fingers are all broken from typing endlessly, and the only thing I want to do is fall into my bed and pass out.

So I shut the lap top, stand up (in a quasi Quasimodo (see what I did there) fashion) and hobble towards the stairs with squinty eyes and limp fingers. Then I start to look around and that panicky movie music starts to play where there are quick shots to scary things and it's like BUM.... BUM.BUM.BUM. And all I see around me are the 2 million lamps still lit and my dreams of crawling upstairs like the undead are shattered.

Instead my retinas are seared by 2 million blinding light bulbs as I try to find the off switches. And then three hours later all the lamps are off and I finally get upstairs, only to look downstairs and realize I forgot one. And that MIA song come into my head and "ALL I WANNA DO IS (gun shots)". And I'm like "that song finally makes sense." And I'm either imagining shooting myself or Thomas Edison.

So if my parents wake up and find me dead in the morning, they will read this blog post and know that it was their fault.

After I write things like that I think "I hope I don't really die tonight because then I will have gone out while nonchalantly joking about killing Thomas Edison and that's in bad taste." Also my last words won't have been inspiring, but instead "Did you see the latest Star Trek movie?"

Come on Kayla. Say more important things.

Oh and here are the lamps

Also, when I finally got to bed, my dad had hid a very loudly ticking clock under my bed.
Does anybody else have trouble determining if their dad is joking with them or threatening them?

Sometimes I think about death

and when I do, I think about what my last moments will be like. 

Will I be pensive? Regretful? At peace? 

At this point I don't really care I just hope I don't have some urgent need to tell Aaron that "I never loved Eugene Levy." Because chances are I will die before I get it all out and all he will hear is "I never loved you...." The following is a list of phrases that I hope my 90 year old self doesn't see as extremely important to utter before dying:

"I never loved you.........kuleles" 

"I never loved you.........rology"

"I never loved you.........catan Peninsula"

"I never loved you.........NICEF"

"I always regretted our mar...........ijuana habit" (this is a stretch... obviously I won't regret our marijuana habit, I just don't want him to think I was going to say marriage)

"I hid the body..... builders gym membership card and said you lost it so I wouldn't feel guilty for not exercising."

What I'm realizing, is that I need to come up with a list of inspiring and thought provoking phrases to say constantly while on my death bed. I don't want to let my guard down for a second and have my last words accidentally be an unintelligent poop joke (though if we're honest, this is most likely). What I think will probably happen, is that due to my sarcasm, people will struggle to figure out whether or not I'm actually dying. 

"Kayla are you dying?"

"Yeah... I'm dying." (said with involuntary eye roll as I struggle to control my body movements)

"Wait... so... you are dying?"

"Yeah, I'm toooootally dying." 

"I'm sorry, I'm really not sure if you are dying or not...."
"I never loved you......." (yule logs)

"I think she's gone. And she never loved me."

If nothing else, I hope that in death, I'm still making 'em laugh like Bill Murray. 

                          

If ever my blog title was true, it was today.

Almost every time I update my blog I think back to little ol' freshman me and think, "Kayla you idiot, what a stupid blog title, Weird Family, Weird Life? How dumb." But then, days like today come along and I'm like, "oh yeah."

So this post will be kind of long because I am going to struggle to condense the insanity of what went down in the Carpenter house this afternoon.

A week ago, my parents and I were sitting at dinner and we began discussing where we should go on vacation this summer. We couldn't decide so we left it to the family. I sent out an email prompting each member, (Tyler and Aaron included) to create a presentation on a destination they wished to visit. In the end we would all vote and the winning presentation would be the future vacation destination

The only rule was that it could not be in the form of interpretive dance, sign language, any language besides English, Morse code, or charades.

Today the family convened to present their ideas and the following ensued:

Presentation 1: Kelsey-Tahoe
Kelsey: I didn't really prepare that much and when I saved my PowerPoint it didn't convert the transitions or cool fonts so it won't be very good

She then proceeded to present on Tahoe, a presentation so funny that we were crying from laughing so hard. It consisted of our faces photoshopped onto scantily clad ladies in Reno and high rollers "making it rain". It was amazing.

Presentation 2: Erin-Seattle
Erin decided to present hers on a science fair tri-fold poster board.

As you can see.... amazing. There were flaps you could lift, books you could open.... it was better than the science fair.

Presentation 3: Tyler- Boston
Tyler began his presentation by making an entrance from upstairs dressed like this, carrying a lantern.....

In case you can't tell, he's Paul Revere (yes we know Paul Revere was  brunette but cut him some slack... that cotton ball hat/wig is the bomb diggity), inviting the family to join him in Boston. His opening line: "You may be wondering, 'Have I stepped back in time?'" We were all laughing so hard that it was incredible he was able to stay in character.

Presentation 4: Kayla/ Aaron- San Juan Islands and Disney World
We did two presentations since there were two of us, but we presented them together.
The first was on the San Juan Islands.... So Aaron came in like this....

The family almost mistook him for a native islander. The Vans were a dead giveaway... and the fact that he didn't take the time to actually learn a song on the ukulele... lazy. Instead he plucked dissonant notes that set me on edge so I may have accidentally yelled at him during the presentation... putting everybody else on edge. Looking back, I shouldn't have rebuked a guy willing to look like this for me.

Then there was the Disney World/ Harry Potter world presentation... which we both knew wouldn't win, but we thought it was worth a shot.. So here's me Mickey Mouse.

I didn't have yellow shoes but conveniently enough I DID have my yellow rain boots at home with me. Half way through the presentation Tyler looked at me and said, "Are you supposed to be Mickey?"

RUDE.

Presentation 5: Mom and Dad- Yosemite 
My dad spent like 10 hours on Saturday making his presentation, which in the end was actually really good. It was a photo montage of Yosemite to the theme of Magnificent Seven. The pictures were beautiful, especially the ones inserted that flashed quickly and acted as subliminal messages, which I'm pretty sure were aimed at me to swing my vote. They were candy bars. Due to confidentiality, I cannot tell you whether or not my Dad's tactic worked.... but I'm beginning to think he raised me to be addicted to sweets just so that when this day came, he could use it against me. Sorry no pics of this presentation as there were no costumes involved.

And in case you were wondering, we combined the Seattle and San Juan Islands trips and they took the cake in the end. We laughed A LOT today.

And then Erin and Tyler demonstrated their ability to sound exactly like bag pipes. They "played" Scotland the Brave. I've mixed their version with the actual version to show you how good they really are. You probably won't be able to tell the difference.

They want to, in the future, use this ability to play at funerals so they discussed their need to learn Amazing Grace. Then an hour later, they sent this video to me while driving, in what I can only assume was, a funeral procession.

And this is why my blog title, however lame it may be, is so spot on that I can't possibly change it.

I could have been a millionaire but instead I'm stuck blogging for 15 people because my sister and/or Todd Neece swindled me

Once upon a time a few years ago my sister Erin, her husband Tyler, Aaron and I went to a breakfast and the following situation ensued:

Tyler comes close to finishing his pancakes. Everybody else finished their food an hour ago but Tyler eats at the pace of an 80 year old woman. He had just a few bites left and he laid his fork down in defeat. 


Me: 

Tyler's eyes widen. He begins to bob his head and picks up the fork. Suddenly it seems that the fullness has subsided and he attacks the pancakes with his new found hunger. The others at the table join in taking harmonizing parts. 


Me: This is a GREAT idea for a video.

Tyler and others: Yeah!

Then we never made a video but we thought about its grandness and shared such grandness with our friends and family, specifically a young boy by the name of Todd Neece, who agreed with the grandness.

FAST FORWARD FOUR YEARS (or so... I don't remember exactly... note to self, figure this out for when this is made into a movie based on a true story)

My thoughts : I'm just going to watch the Superbowl commercials, this will be great... and in between commercials I can watch the Puppy Bowl! Perfect... all while I do homework... oh frabjous day!

And THEN.... this commercial played 

My brain: WHAT?!....... wait........ WHAT?!........no.......wait.............. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!

I immediately called Erin


Erin: Hello?

Me: Did you steal my intellectual property, sell it to Hyundai, and make millions of dollars?

Erin: I'm sorry.... what?

Me: DID YOU STEAL MY INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, SELL IT TO HYUNDAI, AND MAKE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS?!

Erin: I don't think so....

I then explained the situation to Erin and she agreed that it was strange in fact but that "neither she nor Tyler sold this idea to Hyundai".... as if I could believe that.

I then found my self in a conversation with Todd Neece and he said he remembered my video idea and thought of it immediately when he saw the commercial. Now some might think "oh, he brought it up in such a way that he couldn't possible be guilty."  Reverse psychology my friends. And all those tweets he's had recently about "filling out job applications"... a hoax. I imagine he spends his evenings diving into mounds of gold coins like Uncle Scrooge McDuck.

I hope this happens instead:

The end.

Because Forrest Gump is the longest movie in the history of the world (aside from Benjamin Button)

I'm going to update my blog.

It's that time! Now usually when I tell you that I'm going to do a picture dump I can practically hear the groaning. Lucky for you these pics are actually interesting. I'm not even going to explain them so just enjoy. So buckle up... unless you aren't in the car in which case buckling up is probably unnecessary.... unless you're so distraught by the subject of this post that you are going to receive electroshock therapy... in which case you should probably buckle up... unless you have issues with claustrophobia in which case you SHOULD NOT buckle up....unless you're getting ready to go two-stepping, in which case you should probably buckle up.

 That was painful enough. Now back to whatever you were doing... unless you were watching Tree of Life, in which case, I probably don't even have to tell you... just stop and eject it now.

What can I say

except I'm so sorry. The people wanted bruise shots and  I sadly, did not deliver. I'm a failure. I'm worthless. I'm.... lazy. So here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all be waiting for. Prepare to be dazzled and doozled and amazed and bamboozled... here is my paint interpretation of why my balance beam bruise looks like today............ (those dots are the drum roll... and yes I'm aware that's not what percussion music looks like)................

yyyyyeeeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhh

#bruisewatch2012

#brusiewatch2012

It's come to my attention that maybe actual pictures are too much for you squeamish folk. In place of photos I will post daily paint pictures instead! Get ready... it will be amazing. 

#bruisewatch2012 Day 2

I've decided to start #bruisewatch2012 for all of my devoted followers. This way you can stay up to date on the progress of my balance beam bruise (I love when alliteration just happens naturally). 

So here it is.... Day 2

You can see that the outer rim is becoming darker as the days pass. As a whole the bruise is rather spotted and elderly like.

Come back  tomorrow to witness history in the making. And remember to tag any tweets on the topic with #bruisewatch2012

The story of how I was likely scarred for life physically and unquestionably scarred for life mentally

It was a beautiful day. We spent the afternoon hiking the trails of Cameron Park and hammocking on the river side. The warmth of the sun rested upon us as the breeze brushed over our faces. The background noises were of children laughing cheerfully and dogs barking with joyful vigor. All seemed right in the world. 

Then the sun began to hide behind the darkening clouds and the breeze turned into a biting wind. We packed our things and took to the road. It was getting late and our stomachs growled in anguish. We returned to our homes to wash up and headed to dinner. The evening was pleasant but still something loomed darkly over us; it was a dreadful feeling of travesty soon to come. 

Okay but seriously, what I didn't know was that in about 5 hours, I was about to be in the worst physical pain I had ever experienced. It was ZZZ take-a-date and true to the weirdness of ZZZ we went to a gymnastics facility. People went in like normal civilized humans...

and immediately turned into this.....

They were jumping, climbing, wrestling, flipping, etc. There was a VERY large amount of people and they were everywhere, doing everything.

I however, with a mild and self diagnosed anxiety disorder, hung back and observed the mayhem. I decided to do a cartwheel... oh what a mistake. 

I was successful.... at first. So I took to the widened balance beam. Success. I moved to the narrow balance beam a mere foot from the ground. Success. Then higher. Success. Higher. Success. 

Then came the voice of the man I thought I loved. 

Aaron: You've done it already, now do the tallest one!

Me: I can't, I'm too nervous. If I fall from here I could break something!

Aaron: It's all in your head. Do it!

Me: Okay, one more time!

It was like that moment in the Olympics when the favorited gymnast falls and everybody gasps.... only it wasn't anything like that because I'm not an Olympic gymnast (something made very clear to me after this night) and instead of gasps, I heard laughter. I, mortified and in unspeakable pain, tried to laugh it off and hobbled to the restroom to find this.....

Sooooo yeeeeah. 

I look like the girl from "A League of Their Own"... anybody? 

And that is how I became scarred both physically and mentally. And how I learned that the best advise doesn't come from deranged monkey people in a gymnastics place. 

Warning. Serious blog post, hopefully to be followed by not as serious blog posts.

Today in my internship seminar we talked about the importance of self care.
Social workers, due to the intensity of their work, often experience compassion fatigue. Basically we hear other people's struggles and problems and pains so often that we begin to exhibit signs of depression because we are not properly handling the excess emotions. We use self care to step back and take time for ourselves to ensure we don't fall prey to this phenomenon. This may mean painting if you're a painter, writing if you're a writer, or baking if you're a baker. I however, am a blogger; a blogger becoming fatigued by an annoyingly busy schedule. Due to said busyness I have convinced myself that I don't have time to blog.

But I LOVE blogging, because even if I'm the only one who reads my posts, in the dark, at night... it still brings me joy. So this is my way of saying, I will be blogging more frequently in order to combat the hectic-ness that has become my life.

I'm blogging to slow down. I'm blogging to be creative. I'm blogging to laugh. I'm blogging to keep my roommates from finding me in fetal position whispering to myself that I just want to give up... because, no matter our major, or line of work, don't we all feel like that sometimes? Whether it's organizing an annual Christmas musical, going through the interview process for acceptance into graduate school, traveling every single week, doing all of the miscellaneous jobs in the office that end up on your plate, or juggling school, work, and an internship, we all experience fatigue and we must all find the joy that counters it.

Let this not be my way of saying that true joy comes from the words I spell out on a webpage. Because when I am captured by the world, I have a God who rescues me and holds me in his hands.

"You will seek me and find me when you seek with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the Lord, "and will bring you back from captivity." Jeremiah 29:13-14

I felt like Doogie Howser the whole time I wrote this. Imagine I was typing it on a blue computer screen and this was playing the whole time (click play button below and reread entire blog post)

Attention society, I've solved all of your problems.

You know when you have those nights when everything in the world is running through your mind and you can't fall asleep and you have amazing thoughts and then you fall asleep and when you wake up you think, "I should have written it down!" because you can't for the life of you remember? Well if you wake up in the middle of the night and remember your dreams, Freud says don't write them down. BUT, if you have an amazing world changing thought before you fall asleep, you should jot it down. And this is the thought I had on the cusp of sleeping a few nights ago.

I've determined how to solve crime. Forget dramatic trials, forget OJ pleading innocent while his isotoners are still warm, forget the blind woman who can't tell if the car is metallic mint green. No need. I've solved it all.

Has anybody played signature bingo? It's one of those awful ice breakers that EVERYBODY hates, but you have to play so you slowly walk around the room pretending like you're participating and hoping one of those weird hyper-competitive or socially uninhibited people finish quickly. The gist is you have a "bingo" card with random things on each square like, "I'm adopted" or "I've been to all 50 states" and you have to walk around and find people who can sign those honestly. Here's an example:

You get the idea?

Great, so I've figured out how to solve crimes. All people are naturally competitive (or at least that's what you believe if you grow up in a family even remotely like mine). So we play off that and we put a whole bunch of likely criminals in a room together and we hand them BINGO cards like this:

I was running out of crimes, hence "loiterer" and "insurance fraud"

So we explain the game to them and say the first one to get a "black out" wins. So naturally, because they all want to win, somebody will say, "can you sign anything on my card?" and another person will be like "yeah! I've totally got weed in my car right now" or, "Yeah, I'm Casey Anthony". And voilà. Crimes. Solved.

I'm a genius. (and by genius I mean I misspelled genius the first time I typed it out)

I'm tired of this happening.

Perfect. A sweater for this girl:

Where are all these women? Why haven't I seen them? Why do people continue to make tiny torso-ed sweaters? Anthropologie, I'm disappointed in you. Not only are you marketing to a body type that I'm fairly sure doesn't exist, you're trying to tell me that the sale price of $900 is a steal. Stop it.

And with that she washed her hands of the store...




until the next time she visited home and went shopping.