I'm all talk

I have come to the conclusion that I am a true Northwesterner and just don't like extreme temperatures either way. When I visited Utah a couple weeks ago, I thought I was going to die when it was in the 90's. I would say to myself, "I am soooooo ready for Canada cold weather. Bring it on!"

And here I am fah-reezing, and it's 58 degrees.

Dear Tanya,

You don't even know. You are going to be so cold that your bones are going to hurt. You'll probably cry a lot. That is, if your tears don't freeze first. See you in two months!

Love, Canada

I am a stereotype sometimes

Nothing pumps you up for a mission like SHOPPING!!!!

It's actually fun to have to buy things that are nice and pretty. (And it's nice when someone else who is not affected by the economy helps to front the bill--and by "helps," I mean takes the whole cake. Thanks Mom and Dad! I'm sure it doesn't seem like cake to you, but I assure you that I will give you the best care when you are old and drooly and in diapers. Plus, I just let you have all of those Visa miles.)

I realized that my indecisive nature was cured when I wasn't the one paying. Basically, I asked myself, "Do I like this?" If the answer was anywhere from 'I guess.' to 'YES!,' it was in the bag.

Okay, I'm being exaggerative. I actually really love all the things I got. Life is too short to not look fabulous. (I fear I'm starting to sound like Carrie Bradshaw...)

Anyway, I am long overdue for another closet purge.

DISCLAIMER: I know I sound like I should be friends with Paris Hilton or some other queen of entitlement, but I actually felt a little bit of my adulthood die on this shopping trip. In reality I am an extremely frugal person--almost to the point of it being embarrassing or pathetic. In four years of college, I only went to the mall twice, and bought something once. I can talk myself out of buying anything. So that's the real me. The rest is just my creative license.

brag session

So....I should let you know that I'm kind of a big deal when it comes to Scrabble. It's the best game ever.

And I have never lost a game in my life.

Now that I have said that, I will probably lose the next game I play. Thank you, Murphy's Law. But seriously, I have to play against myself with 3 personalities if I want to be beat. Depending on where your score lies, the Scrabble box will give you a range on where you fall in skill level. I am on expert, of course.

I was feeling really good about my skills until I saw that the highest game score ever was 830. Uh...expert level is around high 200's. Who is this mind freak? And how is that score even possible??

I MUST KNOW.

for the futura

Note to self: Don't buy bulk-sized shampoo/conditioner! (You can use this as a note to yourself too.)

If I have learned anything in 22 years, it is that I have shampoo ADD. (For brevity's sake, I will only write shampoo, but I will always mean shampoo and conditioner.) I've heard that changing your shampoo more than occasionally and less than frequently (can't think of the precise word, and I'm too lazy to thesaurus that sh--) is actually good for your hair.

...5 minutes later...

Okay, I actually did thesaurus it, and I still couldn't find the right word. I'm tentatively resting on the word 'consistently'... basically, on a 1-2 month schedule. (I actually made up that time frame, so don't take my word for it.)

To simplify all this rambling: Changing your shampoo=good.

Back to the point. With this semi-reliable knowledge, I've decided that there must be an evolutionary basis for my condition. Mother Nature wants me to have really great hair.

Okay, that wasn't even the point. The point is that I have shampoo ADD (and judging by this post, maybe real ADD too...) The other point is that I really love showers--for many reasons--but mostly for the shampoo. I actually get really excited inside when I have to shower at a friend's house because NEW SHAMPOO!! Sometimes though, the friend happens to have the same shampoo as me, and it is the biggest. letdown. of. the. world.

(This post is turning out longer than I thought it would be.)

The real, REAL point of all that background and medical/psychological history is to say this: I bought the Costco* brand shampoo two years ago. I realized it didn't smell that great (and by not that great, I mean kind of like vomit.) But it was vegan and eco-animal-friendly and all-natural and gluten-free. (?? Is someone planning on eating the shampoo?) So I suffered through it, but it lasted FOR-E-VER. Sometimes I would buy other brands to give me a break, but I always had to go back to the horribly, guilt-free, bulk-sized shampoo. I tried to be wasteful with it. I used it for body wash and shaving cream. And let's face it, sometimes I even just poured it down the drain little bits at a time, but I still left behind a half-empty (or half-full...) bottle of shampoo in my old apartment.

Coming home meant new shampoo (!), so the first day I skipped into the bathroom, dropped my little towel, drew back the curtain, and to my horror--not a serial killer, worse--

sitting on the edge of the tub was that god-forsaken Costco brand shampoo.

(Noooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!)

I have had no will to shower for the past two months. I do it of course, out of necessity, but never delight. It's noon, and I'm sitting here on the computer dreading the responsibility of showering because if I have to use that shampoo one more time, I'm going to kill myself.**

Shampoo is a weird word. It was kind of annoying to write it so many times.

*Dear Costco, please don't sue me for libel. I love your products--just not your shampoo because I've been using it far too long, and it is void of fragrance.

**This is NOT a cry for help. Please look up the word 'hyperbole' in the dictionary to understand my rhetoric.

notes on delight

First: The most wonderful, beautiful feeling in the universe is--well, love--BUT, the second most wonderful, beautiful feeling in the universe is when your eyes--that have suffered through two months on the same pair of contacts (that are supposed to last only two weeks)--are harmoniously joined with a pair of fresh. new. contacts. straight from the package. (Cue: Angelic choir sound effect.) Sheer divinity, I tell you. I believe that in heaven everyone will receive a fresh new pair of contacts every day (because you have unlimited supply, duh). If this is not the case, I might reconsider going.

a question

This might sound judgmental or insensitive, but I don't mean it to be.

I know there's no wrong way to make a family, blah blah blah, but I was thinking about in vitro fertilization, and although it is a great technology, why do it?

I understand if you are a millionaire, then throwing down 10,000 bones is not really a financial stress, but many couples choose in vitro when it is a financial stress. I guess my real question is this: Why do in vitro when it is financially stressful and not 100% guaranteed when you could adopt for less and getting a kid out of it is 100% guaranteed?

Seattle, Seattle

I just love this city.

Lauren, Roxanne, Ricky, and I took the bus up to Seattle yesterday. (We are eco-friendly citizens! ...or we just don't like parking.) Here are some highlights:

--We dubbed ourselves after Sex and the City characters. Of course, I got stuck with Miranda, the serious friend.

--Pike Place, of course. We were looking at jewelry from one vendor, and the conversation went something like this: [With Asian accent] Vendor (to Ricky): You are lucky man! You have three beautiful lady! You buy for all of them!

Ricky: Um...no...

Vendor: Yes, you lucky man. You must come from Utah!

Oh how wrong this man was on so many levels. First, we are all poor college students, so no one is buying anything for anyone. Second, I am Mormon, and we most definitely do not have three wives. Wrong church. Third, Ricky is gay. So having "three beautiful lady" is not that lucky.

--We found a divine Indian lunch buffet called Kastoori? It was just a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it was so good! And with unlimited naan bread? Don't mind if I do!

--Window shopping. We walked through Nordstrom and ogled over all the beautiful shoes we couldn't afford. The salespeople didn't give us the time of day probably because we were in flip-flops. We went to The Rack instead. (I realized though that clothes and shoes are nice, but they really aren't everything. I mean, $700 for Manolo Blahniks? Send me to Spain instead!)

--We found another restaurant/cafe to get cocktails at. I, being the non-alcohol friend, drank my weight in water because it was so hot outside.

--Losing track of time, realizing we had 20 minutes to catch the last train out of Seattle, and running with a full bladder across the city with three other tipsies= not such a good idea. While I was running, some guy gave me a flyer to join a gym. I guess my stride needs a little work.

--Running through a mass of hobos. I've never felt so guilty or paranoid for owning a purse before.

--On the train back, we met a man named John, who in a nutshell was probably just lonely and had a crush on Ricky. Poor guy. I'm glad we could keep him company. He has six books that he is going to publish one day, so watch out New York Times bestsellers!

All in all, it was just another day in the Seattle life.

.

One thing I like about being home is that I see more children around. In Provo, there seems to be one age group: 18-25 (give or take). Yes, of course I've had people bring babies to class, but for the most part I hadn't interacted with children for a long time.

Did I ever mention that I work for a clown? Because I do. And it's awesome. I am a balloon artist and a burgeoning face painter to boot. We are slowly removing the stigma that Stephen King put on clowns years ago with his novel/movie It. (Why does it seem that every young adult was accidentally subject to that movie as a child?)

Well, this job allows me to talk to little kids again, and I forgot what a special experience that can be. They aren't worried about the debt ceiling or the stock market or social security. They still dream big and are impressed by a sword balloon. The other day I was making balloons for two 13 year-olds, and I was relieved to hear that they weren't too old to like Justin Bieber.

Being exposed to so many kids has made me so much more sensitive to the known and unknown issues in their lives. I'm not a social worker or therapist by any means, but I can pick up on things kids say that indicate things may not be going so well at home. Sometimes you can just see it. And all I can really do about it is make a balloon or talk about Power Rangers with them.

Then I find myself praying. Praying that they can always have that optimism that they have now. Praying that they can always feel loved and accepted. And praying that the world gets a little kinder, a little simpler, and a little better.

Shout out to the madre

I just have to say that every time I come home, my mom still remembers what clothes to not put in the dryer. (I'm really paranoid about my clothes shrinking, so I have very particular guidelines on what can and can't be dried.)

I kind of feel bad for a day in 4th grade when I came home from school in a huff because she sent me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead of my usual demand for just peanut butter.

That was the only day in school history where she mixed it up. Sorry for the hostility, Mom.

I didn't forget

My mom always gets on my case when I stop blogging because all of my 18 fans are waiting, you know. I tell her that I don't have anything interesting to write about, but then she gets offended because that's like saying life at home is boring. Well Mom, the truth hurts.

Just kidding. Life at home is not the worst, but life without a job kind of is. Of course a week after I left Provo, I had two job opportunities if I had stayed. Thank you, Great Timing of the Universe. I'm still optimistic though.

You really don't realize a good thing when you have it. I'm a Northwestern at heart, but I love Provo.

If Bonney Lake is the place I grew up in, Provo is the place I grew deep in. It's the place where I cried and laughed harder than ever before. It's the place where I met some of my truest friends. It's the place where I learned, where I succeeded, where I failed, where I made stupid decisions, and where I made some of my wisest. It's the place that filled me with inspiration. It's the place where I was alone and where I was supported. It's the place that challenged me and changed me. It's the place where I fell in love and where my heart was broken. It's the place where I accepted myself and became happy with the road I was on.

Provo, you are not only a city, but an experience. And you are one of the dearest experiences of my life. Thank you. I'll see you soon.