conversation with grace:

g: "yeah i had to get my immunizations to go to africa, 6 all at once. but you know, that pain paled in comparison to the cardio workout i did. i seriously could not move the next day."
a: "whoa that's crazy...what kind of stuff did you have to do?"
g: "there were like twenty different stations that you had to do for twenty minutes each--it was insane. i hurt in places i've never hurt before."
a: "oh my gosh! i can't believe they made you do all that stuff! i've never heard of anything like that for a physical to go to a foreign country!"
g: "...noooo! that was the workout i did with my mom!"

seriously, grace, a segway would have been nice. here i was thinking the whole time, "man, how the heck do fat people get cleared to go to africa?"

tomorrow.

the love of my life, grace stephenson is coming to town before leaving me forever for europe.

ignore the boot. this is just one of my favorite pictures of us ever.

goals for this weekend

-maybe make my bed
-definitely scrape off my car
-inevitably go grocery shopping
-probably end up drawing more pictures of bill cosby and/or my taco bell obsession.

why does it feel like i've been in school for a month when it's only the end of the first week?

hello hibernation

there are times in my life when the only thing i can think about is taco bell. unfortunately, this particular time just happens to coincide with 19 degree temperatures. also, i haven't scraped my car off since i've been back.
it's times like these where i really wish there were more delivery services around. like taco bell. or groceries (which i also don't have). or my classes. that way, i wouldn't ever have to leave my house to walk across the siberian tundra to get to school, because APPARENTLY people in provo don't believe in shoveling sidewalks. i could probably ice skate to school, actually.

actually. what i'm saying is, i don't want to leave my house. ever.

sometimes, i get asked out on dates. sometimes, i have no idea what to say. sometimes, conversations go like this:

boy: "will you go out with me?"
me: "sure?"
boy: "ok cool."
me: "ok."
...
me: "...do...you...want to know where i live?"

i'm socially retarded.

my mom taught me so much better than this.

so i went home for 3 weeks. when i left, my room was in a fairly responsible state of affairs. now i'm back.

rather than unpacking my car, i chose to bring in only my suitcase and go back for the other things later (i had just driven 12 hours by myself and by the time i stepped out of the car, i was walking like a newborn fawn. not to mention it was ridiculously cold).

now i find myself trekking out to my car 2-3 times a day in teen temperatures, slowly bringing in the items therein two at a time. like a reverse noah. a reverse, lazy noah.

rather than unpacking my suitcase, i chose to leave it on my floor.

now it looks like it has explosively vomited all over my room. not just on the floor. the scope of the carnage also includes my desk, my dresser, and usually my bed (that is until i crawl into it to sleep, in which case the clothes become become casualties in the war of my apathy being waged on my floor).

rather than finding matching socks, i chose the first two i could pick out from the cotton labyrinth that has become my floor. they neither match in color, length, nor pattern.

it's times like these where i want to do a combination of things that include stomping my feet, slapping myself across the face, and shouting, "I AM AN ADULT! THINGS LIKE THIS SHOULD NOT HAPPEN!"

at least i managed to hang up my bathrobe.

new year's resolution

#1: on january 1st, don't get out of bed until 11:30. then, stay in your pajamas, and lay on the couch watching "the cosby show" until 2:30 in the afternoon.

oh my gosssh i already checked my first resolution off the list! this is gonna be such a great year.