the land of the green.

So, I'll admit it. I loved Eat, Pray, Love.  In fact, dare I say it is one of my favorite books?  For a while in high school, I was proud of this because I thought it was cool to like it - you know, kind of a trendy feminism kick.  Then, everyone started hating on it post-movie production and so I kind of let my love go by the wayside.  But ti's weekend like this past one that make me remember why I love that book - traveling is the BOMB.  Seattle was teh perfect weekend escape to get my hippie side all excited.  Quitting my job sudenly seemed very reasonable as long as I could sub in as some activist-movement guru barista that lived in a lfat with musician roommates that explored liberal ideas and never showered.  It sounds pretty poetic, don't you think?  No? Ok let's move on then. 

I had such a great weekend with these people.  We went to Seattle to send Seth's brother Tanner (the biggest, best boy around) off on his mission to Ghana (oh the hilarity of the puns that ensued), but we found ourselves having the time of our lives playing in the big city!  After arriving on Friday afternoon - delayed because of a flat tire which landed us in a darling little town in Oregon - and playing wiffle (is that even how you spell it?) ball and barbecuing with the family, we spent all day Saturday in the city.  I had been to Seattle multiple times, but this trip provided some new experiences:

:: a rally - picket signs, megaphones and a large crowd included - against Istanbul (or Turkey? I never did find out) in which we performed a more Turkish version of Everybody's Shufflin (they were going for a more political stance by yelling the name of a communist leader Chapulin - but could care less). we were filmed, even though we yelled comments like, "who are we fighting for again?" and "boycott thanksgiving - no turkey allowed!"  

:: a Ferris Bueller-type adventure in which we tried to get to the top of a skyscraper, but failed after being called "kids." i am NOT a child. i went to the doctor by myself once, ok??

:: making friends on public transportation?? what a thrill - i was pumped to go out and make new buds all over the city!

:: sleeping in a "haunted" house.  

:: clam chowder. that's all. 

And now here is a photo dump on the whole experience: 

we love tanner!!

photo shoots - per usual! 

ox/C

life, lately

Ok hi it has really been a while.  And I wish I could say things like, "Sorry readers! I have been so busy between Fashion Week and all the Caribbean cruises my husband has been taking me on! But here's a really cool giveaway for all of you! And a lot of glamorous pictures with cool backstories!" But I can't say that because, well, none of those things are true. Not a single thing - other than the grammar and actual structuring of the sentences - is an accurate view into my life. I'm husbandless, fashion week-less (note: I did not say fashionless), cruise-less, and, let's be honest, reader-less. 

And as much as I love all the fashion/DIY/mommy blogs out there, it puts us all in such an intense degree of competition with one another.  Like, where did all these rich 23 year old couples come from and how do I become one? Right now I feel like I'm constantly pinching my pennies to survive off the occasional splurge at JCrew Factory, let alone buying matching outifts from J Crew for me and my budding family. With that being said, does anybody need a babysitter? Hair braider? Back scratcher? Hire me, I'm shameless! Anyways. We are all in such an intense degree of competition with one another, and it is simply unfair to have some of the scores rigged from the get-go. So when I wake up in the morning and catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror looking like a greasy combination of a used makeup-remover pad and a comb filled with sporadic hairballs, the only thing keeping me from tipping over into the frothing pit of insanity is knowing that other people look like this before getting ready, too. And then I meet (or, rather, stalk them via cyber world) that one person who just genuinely looks as though they were cut from a statue of fine marble and coated in a thin layer of the “glow” stage from the Bare Escentuals makeup procedure, and my life is ruined. They wake up looking flawless. They get out of the pool looking coy and sexual. When they get dolled up to go out, it’s almost too much to observe, like staring into the surface of the sun.  

So with my already heightened insecurities, today while on an errand for work in the bookstore, I had a moment with some EFY kids. I swear there are millions of them here, and their sole purpose is to block you from wherever you're trying to get. I'm not kidding. Anyways, onward! You know when you're walking past or standing in front of people, and they start laughing? Something about laughter happening behind you makes you feel like it's got to be regarding you.  This is basically how it goes.  You walk in a place, hear a bunch of haha's, and think:

What the heck is so funny? Am I laughably hideous? Is my walk stupid? Am I a bowlegged, pigeon-toed freak? Do I have poop on my jeans? Oh, gosh– did I poop my pants? No, no way, I haven’t done that in years. What could it be? Oh man, they’re laughing again. Is someone doing standup comedy in here? Nope, no standup going on — they’re definitely laughing at me and my entire physical appearance. Is it this shirt? Is plaid out? Was plaid ever in? Is it because I’m not wearing pink on a Wednesday? Ahhhh, ANXIETY OVERLOAD!

And it's one of those Mean Girls moments where you wish that you could at least happily quote the movie while staring social anxiety in the eyes.

"You can go shave your back now." Think about it. “You can go away now.” Meh, that’s alright, but not nearly as effective as telling someone to kick rocks and take care of the jungle growing on their spine. 

But instead, I had to endure it ALONE while standing at the counter trying to purchase a pencil sharpener. Sorry we're not all perfect 15 year olds with braces and acne and can't date yet...oh wait. I should be laughing at you.

So do you kind of get the idea of the day I'm having? I mean, it has been a really good day! J and I went to lunch at J Dawgs followed by a quick re-fueling at McDonald's (DC for life - I'm going strong on one year of addiction *fist pump!) and, of course, it's Friday! Also, the majority of the Smith clan is here! So these mommy bloggers and EFY-ers with way too much teen angst can't get me down. Ya hear?? 

Here are pictures:

i wish i could retell the story of this night and do it justice. but i can't.

it's spring, yo!

 

salt lake real game! and i swear my mom doesn't have lazy eyes, she just blinked. it happens to us all, right??

this beautiful place i live in?? my gosh i love this kind of weather

(oh how glad i am bbyJ is back! target trips for life!)

my new kicks. ya dig??

 I know none of this is even close to anything important or exciting, I promise I'll step it up to my A-game for the next post. But no promises as to when that will be. 

Oh and p.s.

please take note of the battery percentage. unless you're mature. in which case, don't. 

ox/C

daisy buchanan || a beautiful little fool

You guys, The Great Gatsby.

Throughout the entire viewing of the show - which, of course, we dressed up for - I was so enthralled with the glitz and glam of Baz Luhrman's latest masterpiece.  I could not stop idolizing Leo, all the Prada dresses, the swing-time music, Leo, Daisy and HER RING my gosh that thing was gorg, Leo, the amazing mansions that had me thinking yes it's ddddefinitely OK to marry an older man just for his money...and I mean however old it requires and, of course, Leo.  

Let's talk about Daisy.  First off, Carey Mulligan was on point with her roll as the darling southern belle socialite that landed a millionaire as a husband.  Secondly, why can't I be her? I mean, I get that she kind of has zero morals, a child she doesn't care about, and would be today's equivalent of a drunken Real Housewife, but by golly I will idolize her all the more for it.  She represents the way that all women want to be loved.  Because of her, a man became a millionaire and drove himself crazy by showering her with love.  I mean, I came pretty close to this last week when my dad slipped me a twenty to go buy lunch...

And I get that the story is supposed to discourage people from the ritzy life of the drunken millionaires and socialites of the day, BUT IT DID A TERRIBLE JOB OF CONVINCING ME because raise your hand if after you saw that movie, you thought to yourself, "Wow, that life looks terrible." Exactly. We would all give a loved one away if we could spend just a day yachting with the rich and famous Wall Streeters and Bootleggers from Fitzgerald's 1920's. And I would give a whole lot more to see Leo raise a glass to me at a party with fireworks booming behind him.  Oh what a dream. 

"I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool... "

-Daisy Buchanan

waiting + tmi.

so began the adventure to the doctor's - i had high hopes going in

 About a month and a half ago, I woke up with a cold sore on the inside of my lip. Oh I know, it's totally gross. The only people I told, in fact, were my roommates (I find it necessary to tell my roommates everything) and my dad.  Who, upon seeing the inside of my lip, made a face that conveyed a message of oh my gosh how are you my daughter that's NASTY put it away.

After weeks of putting up with it, and trying all sorts of ointments, my lip got worse so I went to the doctor.  This had been the first time in a year and a half that I had gone to the doctor's office, and I had absolutely forgotten how terrible it was!  This is because growing up, my dad - although actively involved in his healthcare profession- ingrained in his children a "walk it off" mentality.  He grew up with 3 older brothers, and had 3 boys of his own until I popped out and thus his hand at nurturing was relatively new.

When I was little, my dad was ill-equipped to deal with my constant baby-girl whining and fragile body, and so the phrase “you’re fine, you don't need to cry” became the default. (A worthy pairing to my mom’s constant overreacting to every scrape and bruise. Her purse, as far as I knew, contained only a tube of lipstick, a wallet and seven thousand Bandaids.) They're a good pair. She carefully placed the bandaid on and kissed the wound, and he ripped it off when I was least expecting it. 

So now, I tend to think that my body can heal it self.

For a while, when I was in high school, my family didn’t have health insurance and I learned to get by without visiting the doctor. Oh, I didn’t learn to be careful. I just used duct tape to keep broken toes together, drank powdered Vitamin C for everything and discerned which websites will give you a somewhat accurate diagnosis and which ones will just tell you that you have AIDS.

Let's get something straight: when your doctor's appointment is at 2:30, it's unrealistic to expect to actually see the doctor anywhere close to that time.  You must sit in the waiting room.  There's no chance of not waiting, they made a whole room for it.  It's like, all the doctor's are back in their little rooms all thinking to each other, "well we can't take anyone back here now, that would be wasting the room!"   So you sit there, you've got your fishing magazine or some outdated, ripped version of Highlights For Kids!, but you're only pretending to read it while really looking at other people wondering what they've got.  And let me tell you, everytime my name is called, I'm so tempted to look around at the other people.  For one, I'm excited because my young, naive mind thinks I'm going to actually see the doctor momentarily. For another, I want to say something along the lines of, "Well, I've been chosen. I'll see you all later."

boredom ensued quickly after leaving the waiting room

Then you remember - you've just been moved into a smaller waiting room.  My first visit with a doctor moved rather quickly - I think I only had time to send 3 or 4 snap chats (tip: don't ever send snap chats from a doctor's office. you WILL be asked, "whos's the father?? " "do you have aids?" or a simple "what's wrong?", at which time you actually have to tell people what you're in for. that was my low point.)  After examining my lip for a while, the doctor said, "This baffles me, I've NEVER seen anything like this before!" whilst trying to come up with a subtle way to ask me if I had a significant other that I was "active" with (I'm not entirely sure what that means)? Or maybe I just play the trombone? No doc, I've just got a weird thing on my lip that even you don't know what to make of it.

being turned away for having "trombone lip"

She sent me on my way to see another doctor - one that would hopefully know what to make of my lip.  And let me tell you, after waiting 2 hours to see him, I had high expectations. After all, I can only refresh instagram and read the same "WARNING: If you think you are pregnant ..." sign so many times.  He came in, didn't say much other than "Sorry, we had an emergency - a little boy's nose would not stop bleeding after he stabbed himself with a pen."  First of all, I knew the story because I was in the waiting room with him and his mother. Trust me, I knew the story.  Second, confidentiality?? Like, what was he going to do, go to the next room after he was done with me and say, "Sorry, I was held up by a girl with a nasty herpe on her lip and it was so gross it took me so long to take care of." Not cool.

However, after he examined it, he simply cut it off.  Like, took clippers to my lip.  And it was gone. I could have had one of my roommates do that to me months ago (right girls?? I think I could have gotten one of them to do it...probably the same one that took my blood right at our kitchen table because we were bored on a Sunday afternoon). 

post-doctor's visits. with nothing but a prick to show?? also, it looks like i'm wearing glitter eye liner. I'M NOT I don't know what that is.

 In other news, FELIZ CINCO DE MAYO!  Yesterday, we went to a park with chips, salsa and sangria (virgin, duh) in hand and had ourselves a little fiesta.  Complete with cousin cuddling time and some vintage basketball shorts.  Mexican Independence Day brings out the crazy in us...?

And we ended the fiesta with a newly installed weekly tradition! 

Jk I'm not sure it will ever happen again.  But it was really fun, and I would totally trust this girl to take my blood any day.

All in all, here's to medical procedures and a post that lasted too long on issues that may induce nausea.

friends on friends on friends.

Back in November, around Thanksgiving Break, I decided to watch the final season of Friends for the 23896753th time. I’m not even a little ashamed of my slight obsession with the ‘90s sitcom. It’s a cliché-and-laugh-track-fueled half-hour, in which the characters are just as likely to make a fart joke as to sing a song about pubic hair. But that doesn’t matter. No critique can undermine my connection to Monica’s purple, rent-controlled apartment, with its copper saucepans and mismatched chairs. The very first time I watched the show was when I was 9, sleeping over at Leslie Franklin's house (I'm allowed to use names in here, right? Even though I haven't talked to the girl since, well, probably that night I slept over 11 years ago) and her older sister had it playing on late night NBC.  The show sold mid-20s mediocrity in its opening credits: “Your job’s a joke, you’re broke, your love life’s DOA.” But that’s not what I saw - or understood, really (I still don't know what DOA means?). Monica & co. lived in Manhattan, (mostly) worked at creative jobs they (mostly) loved, ate out every night and were, of course, beautiful. To a shy, insecure home-schooler, the fantasy looked pretty good.  

But it’s more than that: I now see the failure those opening credits advertised. In “The One With Ross’s Sandwich,” Ross flies into a public rage when a manager steals his gravy-soaked turkey sandwich. He’s just been evicted from an apartment and filed for his second divorce. As he puts it, “Somebody ate the only good thing going on in my life.” Though stocked with pretty people in flattering lighting, Friends wasn’t about success—if it had been, myself, my friends and 52 million other Americans wouldn’t have been able to relate. The sitcom showed us that even in our wealthy, sushi-eating daydream, life wouldn’t be perfect. It showed us that we weren’t alone.  Even now, as a near-20 year old, my roommates and I rely on Friends to be playing while we unwind from our days and eat dinner on our couch, our only source of light being our flat screen TV and the delight we get from imagining ourselves sitting right there with our 6 friends in Central Perk. 

My point? Life as a college student is far from glamorous and, in my case, far from successful.  But, from the very first day here at BYU, I have had great friends to back me up, laugh with me, cry with me, and do generally absurd and reckless things (making police beat twice in the matter of a few weeks is still impressive and NOT a need for concern in my mind).  And while the series finale of Friends had me bawling like a babe in my bed that Saturday night back in November, it doesn't compare to the emotions I feel when I think about all the heartbreak, success, inside jokes, and reunions (see the picture above for a mini-reunion with Jazzy lady that Jennae and I had on Friday evening at the Noteworthy concert) I have in store because of my "family" here at school.  Now if only the rest of the boys could get home already...

word vomit.

 This past weekend was General Conference.  I, admittedly, did not focus as well as I should have (what started off as an assignment that was due at midnight turned into oh my gosh those sunglasses are so special and i get free shipping on this shirt and maybe i should read through the thought catalog while i'm on this dang internet...).  Regardless, I did my best multi-tasking and had a great weekend altogether.

what is a blog for if not for shameless selfies?? i mean really.

::Friday night, my dad took me on a date. A date! We went to Rodizio Grill and then headed up to Jordan Common's to see Jurassic Park in 3-D on the IMAX.  Along with our human size ICEE's. For real those things were so large.  It was a great night.  We talked a lot about my brothers and struggles and happy things that had happened and planned so many fake trips for the summer (sure, Belize sounds nice, we'll go there on our way home from Greece).  I think we'll probably drive to California for a long weekend.
::Saturday was such an ideal day for relaxing.  I got out of bed at 10 only to crash on my living room floor for the first session of General Conference.  The rain outside encouraged me to stay in my pajamas for as long as possible, so laziness ensued.  At some point, I whipped out an assignment, showered, and made it to a family dinner at Sizzler's.  At which point, chaos occurred. The good kind of chaos.  The family kind of chaos (the women in my family are all so loud, happy and busy all the time so it really makes for exciting evenings). 
:: I started the first season of Gossip Girl all over. Jennae had never seen it, so I HAD  to expose her to Blair Waldorf at her finest.
::Sunday morning, as I rolled out of bed and was about to leave to go to a family breakfast during the first session, I get a text from E. Good golley.  

So I jumped in the shower (sorry family! I won't be able to make it to breakfast?) and tried to get hot in a matter of 30 minutes.  Let me tell you something.  I really like(d) this boy.  And I'm pretty sure he knows it.  So while I'm kind of mad/sad he keeps asking me to hang out even when I know he doesn't want to date me, it also makes me happy.  Because when it comes down to it, I want to be around him regardless of what our future holds.  Which is nothing.  Am I making sense?

He picked me up and we headed to Draper to stop in at Jessica's family's house.  Jessica was there with her husband - E's brother - and her entire family.  And the hilarity was non-stop.  Seriously, when I'm with these people (which seems to be a lot lately), I cannot stop laughing.  After we ate a little and finished the first session, we drove up to Salt Lake and were actually having a serious conversation (it's a big joke between us that we almost never have real conversations) and boy was it exhilarating.  We talked a lot about the Priesthood and the Priesthood session the night before, and hot topics that seem to always come up at Conference (debt, the last days, pornography, etc.).

After the session - which was amazing, I can't wait to read Elder Holland's talk again - was over, we drove back to Draper in a bit of a lighter mood. As in, belting Les Mis the entire ride.  We bonded more with Jessica and her family, watched a movie, and just relaxed on the couch.  All in all, it was a great start to this final week of school!


other tid-bits from my week:

::Guys, life is expensive.  On top of paying bills and rent and gas and all the other boring necessities you wish would go away, you're also expected to buy things for other people.  Maybe this becomes easier when you actually have money later in life, but this past weekend Wells Fargo and I were really struggling.  On Saturday, I had to buy a gift before the family dinner to give to my cousin's fiance.  So I stopped in at Bed, Bath & Beyond to pick up a cookbook and a cute Papyrus card.  That literally cost more than my entire education fund.  I mean, probably.  I was on the phone with my mom, already having a hard time swallowing the fact that I was about to spend $20 on a cookbook (hello!  use the internet for recipes! it's called resources of the 21st century) when the checkout girl from hell says "That will be $38."  In my head, I had to do quick math while still trying to attend to a conversation with my mother.  Accounting for tax and all, the card was SIXTEEN DOLLARS?? IS IT POSSIBLE SHE COULD BE TALKING ABOUT PESOS?  I handed her my debit card and ran out of there, proceeded to make a card out of some paper from a binder in the backseat, and returned the Papyrus card the next day.

::We gave Bunny away.  To Mother Nature.  I thought I would be sad about it, but I'm not!  As Jennae and I dropped her off on a lovely, secluded hilltop with lots of trees and foliage to eat and where was Julie Andrews, I felt happy for her.  She didn't seem to care or even notice she was being left.  In fact, I think she left us now that I think about it...

::The seriously horrendous workout I had to do with my personal trainer on Monday.  Honest to goodness I was waiting for him to crack up and say, "Nah just kidding I would never have someone do that, it's way too embarrassing!"  Let this sum everything up:

Word.

ox/C

bunny.

Meet...

the most impulsive decision of my life.  Saturday afternoon, what started as a craving for Rent-a-Puppy turned into a real life pet adoption.  O f  a  b u n n y.  Not that you need to know this, but we spent at least 6 hours sitting on our living room floor cooing Bunny and clapping/crying/cheering at every little thing she did.  WHOA did you see her new trick you guys? Our bunny is so smart, she knows how to turn around!  Oh my gosh Bunny knows she's not supposed to go in the kitchen, how did we raise such a smart animal?? Oh my gosh Bunny is peeing on my blanket. And then the fun stops.  For a second.  It was really a testament to how much fun motherhood is going to be for us. And how annoying motherhood is going to look on us.  I'm obsessed with a fur ball and praise her for looking cute when she breathes.  My poor children are going to be smothered.  

See below for Bunny's debut:

first picture with 4 week old Bunny

easter day photoshoot!  bunny was literally born for this day. 

Unfortunately, Bunny was not very considerate of our...well, everything, like our floors and cords and bathrugs and hands and hair.  But mostly allergies.  We're kinda sad about it, because unless she shapes up and stops spreading the itchy eyes and hives, she's gotta go.  Sorry, Buns.  You were fun.  And I swear people like us more when we have you (we started an instagram for her: bunny_named_bunny - and she got 11 likes on one of her pictures. you go girl). 

Otherwise, it was a pretty melancholy week.  Still as obsessed as ever with my gym membership, I spent a good amount of time there last week.  It was one of those weeks where I felt so overwhelmed with schoolwork, only to look at my schedule and realize it will be pretty non-stop until finals.  Boo.  But don't worry, I took occasional breaks to keep my soul healthy and happy.  I went shopping with my dad on Tuesday, after which he took me to a Mexican restaurant that a co-worker recommended to him.  Whoever his coworker is going straight to the Celestial Kingdom I swear it (or, in the words of dear Ginnifer Goodwin, I would like to intimately touch whoever discovered that. And remember, G said it, not me).  So, of course, after sharing a bite with Mimi, we had to go again.  The next day.  It was so beautiful outside too, so we sat outside and literally got over our obsession with Cafe Rio's pork burritos with each and every bite. 

El Gallo Gyro, you have my heart. 

And then I continued to do schoolwork with occasional breaks for The Walking Dead.  I had some catching up to do - with the show and with a boy, so I did both at the same time!  Oh how I missed hanging out with him.  I seem to see his roommates everywhere and while it's really fun, all it does is make me think of him.  And even though nothing will ever happen between us, everytime I am with him these days, I just want to tell him how great he is!  Cause everyone deserves to know exactly how great they are.  So thanks, E.  Maybe one day, I'll actually tell you.