As Eleanor Roosevelt once said to Betty Ford, "Hilary Clinton is great!"

Sometimes I read my sister's blog and I think, "I should set goals for the number of posts I publish a month." And then I remember the feeling of failure and decide against it.

So I wrote a while back about how every time somebody says, "You look JUST LIKE..." it's a middle aged woman with a horse face. Well what matters is on the inside right? And apparently people are in unanimous agreement that this is my personality doppelganger:

April Ludgate everybody.... my hero.

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect...

 but *actually* from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff.”

This post was written months ago so don't be confused by the chronology. When I've mastered time travel (Aubrey Plaza and I are working on it) I'll fix this.

So you know when you make promises that you intend to keep and then you remembered that you promised to do something but just thinking about doing that thing makes you want to throw something breakable across the room? Well that’s how I’ve felt about blogging lately.

Well I didn’t blog. And I almost threw something breakable across the room. And then I remembered that someday I’m going to have a husband, and when I feel like throwing something breakable across the room, there will be a house full of stuff that was never originally mine that I can choose from. Why break something of my own today, when I could break Aaron's lava lamp in 7 months?  

Plus, I fully expect to have recovered from my urge to tip Aaron's television over and snap his blurays in half and throw his iPad across the room and drop his collectible Star Wars drinking glasses on the concrete floor, in about a month. Because in 1 week I'll have submitted my grad school application, in 4 weeks I'll have completed my 150 page social work portfolio, in  5 I'll be done with classes, and in 7 I'll have a mortarboard on my head and a diploma in my hand. 

Until then I'll continue to feel like Rosemary Woodhouse and assume that this terrible feeling I have all the time comes from everybody conspiring against me.

-FAST FORWARD 3ish MONTHS-

You know that scene in Matilda where the Trunchbull flings Amanda Thripp over the fence by her pigtails and you think "That's the most horrible thing ever!"...

and then it turns into a field of daisies?

Well I'm now working 25 hours a week and have no homework. So yeeeeeah. I'm picking daisies for Miss Honey eryday.

I finished my grad school app, was accepted, and will be choosing an internship placement in 1 week, I finished my portfolio, presented it successfully to two practitioners, I wore a mortarboard on my head and was the FIRST name called and first person to walk across the stage in my graduation, but I did not have my diploma in hand as they had to reprint it and send it to my apartment (and the award for longest sentence ever goes to....William Faulkner; Absalom, Absalom!).

So what have I been doing in my free time you ask?

Watercolors.

And guess how good I am at watercolors....

Good enough to give this to Tyler for Christmas.
(I was going for just bad enough that you aren't sure if the artist is joking and you're not sure if you're going to have to hang it somewhere visible every time the artist comes over.) NAILED IT.

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. ;)