my husband is better than yours.

3 things.

2012-02-04T10:00:00.000-08:00

I'll give you ten nickels if you can tell me what these three things have in common:

Ok I'll give you a hint. They are the three things that occupy the entirety of my brain, from roughly 10 AM - 8 PM, Monday through Friday (& sometimes Saturday/Sunday).

Right now I'd say it's about %150 Stacy's, 75% Pepsi and %10 Energizer.

I'm really not complaining, the percentages change daily and it definitely keeps me on my toes.

It's just that you never think you'll grow up to spend the majority of your time thinking about chips.

We're headed to Boston this week to do a shoot that will make you buy more of these pita chips. In the off chance I have some down time, I'd love some suggestions on what to do there. Anyone?

thanklet!

2012-01-29T20:36:00.000-08:00

I've never been one of those wedding-planner girls who has her dress, diamond and wedding colors picked out by the time she's 13. I've just never really thought about it. But recently a dear friend sent me this.

And now my imagination is running wild! It's like a thong for your ankle! It's like lingerie for your foot!

I think it'd be awesome to like have me wear the white one, and get a different colored one for each of my 17 bridesmaids. We'll go barefoot all day and take a picture of us standing in a row with our feet seductively protruding from our floor length wedding & bridesmaids dresses.

I can't wait to make my dream wedding come true. Now all I need is a fiancee who will marry me or at least sign off on 18 multi-colored "Jewels by Michele."

Buy yours here. You're welcome!

contrabund!

2012-01-13T13:34:00.000-08:00

All I read I see when I look at this poster is "CUMMERBUND."

Someone should design a cummerbund made of money. Those would be cool. And probably expensive.

dear miss carter: welcome to the world

2012-01-09T11:10:00.000-08:00

Have you heard??????

Babyonce has a name and it's "Blue Ivy Carter." Hmmm. I'll let that one slide.

I do believe she's the youngest human to have Jay-Z lay down a track in her honor, and it's pretty dear.

You can check it out here.

Congrats to my favorite couple on planet earth, and welcome to your baby diva.

old year's resolutions.

2012-01-01T18:08:00.000-08:00

Every year I gear up to set some life-altering resolutions. Some goals that will really take my life to the next level you know?

I think about my life...I set my goals carefully...I write them down my journal.

Then I get curious and flip my journal to last year's resolutions. And then I want to die.

It seems that every year at least 50% of my resolutions are repeats of the previous year. They almost always involve something to the effect of "eating only until i'm full" or "reading more nonfiction books."

I'm not sure whether to be happy with my persistance or depressed at my lack of progress. Either way, at least I'm consistent from year to year?

Someone tell me I'm not alone in this. On another note, Happy 2012!!!

the girl who gets hurt.

2011-12-29T09:38:00.001-08:00

There are few things that irk me more than people who are consistently getting "hurt." You know what I'm talking about. They're clinical pity partyists, unconvincing hypochondriacs, and cousins to people who always sing just loud enough to be heard above everything else.

No one wants to date the girl who always gets hurt. You can't play catch with her. You can't take her on a hiking trip with your buddies, unless you either like being miserable or she is much more attractive than you. Only saints and sellouts are capable of hanging out with these people.

Well, a few months back I had a real scare that I just might be one of them. Let me explain.

Boy and his friends are into dirt biking. (Here I feel it is necessary to say that my only other experience dating a dirt biker was my first kiss when I was 14. He liked Fox racing, was quite sexy and possibly illiterate. Since him I haven't had much experience on the dirt biking front.) So after a few months of dating, he suggested that I come with him and all his friends to the sand dunes. It will be super cool! All the dudes are gonna show off on dirt bikes and the girls can ride around on ATVs and watch us! I agreed to go.

(kind of legit)

After a bit of riding around on my quad I was starting to feel way awesome about myself. Sick bra, I'm so Travis Pastrana right now!! Such thoughts were occupying my mind when I went over a dune that was a litttttttle larger than I'd anticipated. Next thing I know I am face down choking on sand and in quite a bit of pain.

I look up to see every one of his friends sitting at the top of the dune looking down at me, and in my head all I could think was, "I am the girl who got hurt. I am that girl who gets hurt. NOOOOO!!!!!!"

Everything went into slow motion. I had a flashback to the time my nephew got "hurt" and was limping around our house. He kept having to switch legs because he forgot which one was injured.

I remembered a girl I used to take dance classes with. One day she walked into Ballet class late, dressed in street clothes. She stopped awkwardly in the middle of the class and announced to the teacher: "I sprained my ankle."

Riggggggggght.

She immediately turned and began limping out of the class. Our teacher asked, "Well, aren't you going to stay and watch?" But the girl who got "hurt" kept right on limping out the door. I guess her ankle affected her hearing as well.

I came back from my daydreaming to a swarm of very nice, concerned people asking if I was okay. Pshhh, me? Totally fine! That was so funny right? After all, it was pretty funny. It also hurt pretty badly. But I lied my way through it and rode the rest of the day! Later I found out I had a minor tear in my AC joint on my shoulder, which is really not a big deal but does make you pretty miserable for a few days.

So lesson learned...if you find yourself in a situation where you would like to make a good impression but instead end up injured, remember that you can always just LIE. You (and probably your boyfriend) will thank yourself in the end.

happy late christmas.

2011-12-27T08:16:00.000-08:00

Hope you looked as good as I did!

Socks--CVS, Jeans--Levis, Sweater--Vintage Nordstrom, Jingle Earrings-Handmade by Sue J. Groesbeck, Holiday Spirit--Priceless.

Thermador of Death.

2011-12-16T17:10:00.000-08:00

Remember when they told you if you left your straightener turned on all day it would burn your life down?

Welll, this is the contraption that is supposed to heat my apartment. It's called a THERMADOR.

The only difference I see between the straightener and the Thermador is that the former has nice, enclosed, flat heated surfaces while the latter has blazing, smoldery, flammable coils of death.

Also, the latter is a permanent fixture in my bathroom.

While I am quite confused at the logic behind the Thermador, the fact that it saves me from the freezing cold of un-insulated walls means I have no intentions of quitting it. Please wish me luck, as I am quite over house fires and would hate to repeat this.

SURPRISE!!!

2011-12-13T14:44:00.000-08:00

So loverboy graduated last weekend with his big bad MBA, and I had a wacky idea to surprise him with a SURPRISE!!! party.

Has anyone done this before? Causssse i'm pretty sure I've never been so stressed. For those of you who know me at all, you know that's an otherworldly amount of stress to be felt.

The fact that it took TWO SOLID HOURS to drive thirty three miles from LA to Huntington Beach did not help my blood pressure. The only thing keeping me sane while driving was thoughts of how at one time pioneers only had wagons to travel in.

One thing I learned is that surprises turn you into a liar. I fabricated an absurd web of lies to get him there, and when he believed me I realized I should have come to LA as an aspiring actress. I might actually have made more dollar$.

Anyway, it worked. And here is the moment so you can see. I'm the one whispering in the world's loudest whisper.

I also took advantage of my photoshopping friends at work to create this:

Which the studio put on the cover of a Forbes magazine. Fitting right?

His sis made this cake (go anteaters!) she is amazing.

And we all told him something he was "The Master" of.

And Rory apparently told him something funny.

I'm not sure my integrity can handle another surprise party, but I am overwhelmingly relieved that it all worked out. Happy Graduation to Boy, and good luck trusting your lady from here on out.

all i want for christmas....

2011-12-08T12:46:00.001-08:00

....is Betty Hayne's legs.

Have you watched WHITE CHRISTMAS yet this year?

(Fast forward to 2:16 for the good stuff)

So...Christmas in two weeks huh? All I see is palm trees and I am thoroughly confused. I even resorted to Kenny G's "Miracles" album to put me in the mood but something just felt wrong. You know when it's July 27th and your iPod is on shuffle and "All I Want for Christmas is You" comes on? It felt like that. Only it's December here in this Twilight zone called LA-la land, where the outdoor malls create fake snow so you can feel like it's Christmas whilst spending zillions of dollars on your celeb friends. So strange.

I can't complain about the fact that I could* walk out my door any morning and go running. Or that tonight was my first time wearing my puffy coat. I'm simply in need of a lil' Holiday cheer.

How do you people from sunny climates feel Christmas-ish? I'm in need of a little help.

*could, not do.

silver lining

2011-12-01T10:27:00.001-08:00

Remember that time I worked 24 hours in two days and at the end of all of it the power went out at the agency and I lost half my work? Ok, ok I didn't, but for a minute I thought I did and was about to tear my all of my hairs off. Thank you Bill Gates for inventing Auto Recovery as part of your Microsoft Word software.

(this is what Chiat/Day (& night) looks like when the power is out. creep fest!)

The silver lining in all of this though, is that according to howmanyofme.com, I am approximately the ONLY Rebbie Groesbeck in the US of A. Take a looksie.

I would recommend that you visit that website, but I can't be sure it won't give infect your computer with viruses. Virusi? Anyway, I'm feeling all sorts of one-of-a-kind. Happy December friends!

queen b.

2011-11-17T11:52:00.001-08:00

Right now I want to be-yonce more than I want to be me.

Dear newest Twitter follower:

2011-11-08T14:20:00.000-08:00

I have a feeling you go to BYU. In fact, I will give you $8,000,000,123,456,999 if not.

Is this real vida??

2011-10-31T00:23:00.000-07:00

The other day whilst Spotifying my workday away, I came across this ad.

What else could I think but, is this verdad? I did a little research and, according to Wikipedia, they are indeed a real band. I have this weird feeling they're trying to tap into multiple markets ("I know! You call yourself nacho, everyone knows what those are") in order to appeal to a double horde of teenage girls ("Poeta is only one letter away from poet so, you know, they'll get that we're singing poetry even though they don't know what princessa and besos mean").

The music video for their hit single "Niña Bonita" has 33.9 MILLION HITS on YouTube. I tried to keep my finger from clicking and becoming the next victim of this hispanohablante movement, but alas, I failed. I'm keeping your self respect intact by not posting it in this post.

I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that things like Chino y Nacho exist, should I? I'm just not sure I've come across anything so stereotypically, racially perfect yet terrible since my African American Cabbage Patch doll whom I named Chocolate.

beginner's luck.

2011-10-14T11:06:00.001-07:00

When you 'study' Advertising in school, you have these grandiose dreams of doing work for products you actually like. You know--Nikes, Levis, iPods. Cool things you'd actually buy. Nine out of ten ad students enter the real world to find themselves working from 10 AM til whenever the client is happy creating web banners for global business-to-business tech companies. ("Well, I really think we should look at the Call To Action again. Is "Explore" a bit stronger than "Learn More?"") You fake it til you make it and eventually convince yourself that it's not unethical to sell something you hate because someone, somewhere has to like this stuff. Right?

Anyway. I feel incredibly lucky to have worked on this project for Bare Escentuals. If you haven't used their products, you must! I started using it when an esthetician made me feel my bumpy cheeks and promise to never buy Target makeup again. I've been a believer for a few years now and can honestly say it's changed my skin. This campaign was going into production right when I got here. It's full of warm fuzzies, and it works something like this...

(if you pause it at 1:30 you will see my famous face doing that terrible thing i do where i cover my mouth with my hand)

Our team was made up entirely of chicks. Recipe for success right? Call me a feminist, but sometimes it takes cool chicks to spot other cool chicks. It was amazing how strongly these women's personalities came through that wall (especially the sword collector, who was slightly bonkers). One of the greatest unforeseen outcomes was the response from the models. Every one of them mentioned how flattering it was to have a casting director care about WHO they were instead of just WHAT they looked like. I mean, models are people too, right?

The five women we ended up with made our jaws drop. After meeting and interviewing them, there came a point where we were all like, wait...do I suck? By the end of the shoot though, the models seemed to have developed mutual girl crushes on the ladies on my team. (Like I said, warm fuzzy fest). From discussing Buddhism vs. Mormonism with Keri to Darlene making me teach her how to use a Mac, I can personally vouch for the realness and more importantly, the goodness of our five Forces of Beauty.

Here's to being able to promote something I really believe in. And here's to a team of amazing ladies who dedicated bijillions of hours to bringing more real beauty into the world.

Check out the rest of the campaign here. And go buy some B.E. :)

feisty lady.

2011-10-10T10:40:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to post this since her new album came out last week and I'm really cool so I'm always the first one to listen to new music.

Jokes!

But seriously, your quality of life will improve if you download this album. If you are poor like me, download Spotify and listen to it for free. It is hauntingly beautiful.

Happy Monday friends.

almost ryan gosling post.

2011-10-03T17:36:00.001-07:00

I almost wrote a post about ryan gosling, then I remembered I am an adult. Then I remembered the time I clicked on a link entitled "every photo ever taken of ryan gosling and his dog," and started writing one again. Then I read this. And realized my post would likely pale in comparison.

So read it!! And all I'll add is the fact that his almost-mormonism makes him so terribly much more appealing. If only I could visit teach him!! I heard he lives in L.A. so we'll see how that pans out.

On a completely separate and more righteous note, how lovely was general conference this weekend? Provo tabernacle = temple? I am so proud to have been born in the spiritual epicenter of the universe!!! Jokes. Seriously though, what a beautiful future for such a beautiful building. I'm so grateful to be able to have my life so incredibly spiritually recharged twice a year.

On another separate note, I have never been so Fall-sick. If you live in Utah, please go on a drive through Provo Canyon. Afterwards, rake up your leaves into a big pile and jump in them. Then send me one. My address is....jk. But appreciate it ok? It's so dang sunny and warm here. Not complaining....but I love and miss my Utah crisp fall air...almost as much as I love mr. R.G. Cuz we totes have the same initials. Fate!

my life...

2011-09-12T11:28:00.001-07:00

...consists of writing lots of things. Some of these things are called "MANIFESTOS," in which you tell a brand who they are and what they stand for. It has to really put a stake in the ground you know? Really make people want to rise up and join the fight, to give their life for this brand if it's required. A friend at work sent me this little gem, which gives you a glimpse into our lives.

Thank you to whoever Kimmok is for helping me through a very long evening at work last week.

if you like kanye, you might hate me.

2011-09-04T12:56:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you're all unaware that this weekend in Los Angeles, CODXP happened. CODXP, you ask? To the best of my knowledge I think it stands for Call of Duty X-Perience? Basically it's where thousands of gamerdorks come together to play a new video game. While zip lining and paint balling were also available, I don't think this crowd cares much for physical activity.

Since Chiat does all the advertising for Activision, they let us go for free. Not too tempting, UNTIL they told us Kanye West was playing....hmm... I mean I like Kanye as much as the next white girl from Provo, Utah (?).

Helena and I, the two blond females in the building. This lady has been known to get in VIP at a club for telling them she was the Princess of Monaco...suffice it to say getting us to the front row was not a problem.

What was a problem was when we had to watch a bunch of dudes compete for this trophy with fake dude guns at the bottom, which they won along with $400,000 DOLLARS!!! The whole time I just wanted to run up on stage and yell, "GO OUTSIDE!!"

Finally they took got to the realll dealll. Here's the setup crew.

Here's our krewww.

The videos I took look amazing on my phone and terrible on my computer so I will work on getting better copies of them. At one point Kid Cudi came out and I missed high-fiving them both by inches!!! Blast!! For now, here's where he popped up right behind me.

And where he descended.

First moments on stage.

"I'm lost in the wooooods!!!!"

Ballet + hip hop? Why not. This definitely did not make me miss my leotard-wearing days and I think a few of them unfortunately forgot their spray adhesive. At least none of them had to wear any of this.

Annnnd here's where we made eye contact.

I know I just wrote a blog post about hating internet narcissism, I know that on Monday it may be a different story...but last night my job was a little cooler than yours.

i met a guy...

2011-09-01T01:44:00.000-07:00

...who is handsome, smart, righteous, funny, kind and....

HE LOVES CREED.

Creed, the band. Remember? I almost put their music on my blog before remembering I'd rather die.

HE LOVES CREED! I cannot state that fact more clearly or with more disbelief. It's that tragic moment where you hear the one sentence, slow motion, that confirms you could never make someone happy.

Mine used to be, "Well, I just go to Community College because it's easy and I can hang out as much as I want." Now I'm afraid it's, "I like the band CREED."

Even worse is when it's followed by "I like Creed's evil-twin-step-cousin Nickelback, too."

Aghh this guy! With his Top Ramen hair!

Truth be told, the guy I speak of is only a friend of mine (I know you all got your hopes up) and there's never been romantic interest and I told him I could hate the sin (CREED) but love the sinner (him) despite our fundamental differences. But it's a little easier said than done. I mean I just don't get it, CREED??

Okay, okay I'll stop. But someone tell me you understand....

The week after vacation....

2011-08-28T23:38:00.000-07:00

...feels like an eternal Monday.

Last week in Bear Lake I realized that I basically have the best family in the universe. Here are a very few pictures, brought to you by Instagram.

Our first stop every year is Bob's for some fresh Bob's Raspberries. We O.D. on these things.

View from the deck. Any book read here is 50% more enjoyable.

View from the casita down by the lake. What a beautiful mess we make at this place.

I can't say I'm a fan of dragonflies, but you have to be heartless to not feel bad for this guy. He somehow got skewered on the antennae of our truck and may have permanently ruined my appetite for kabobs.

It's been a terrible adjustment to real life but slowly I'm getting there :) I'm not sure I've ever appreciated enough how great it is to be with the people you know and love most. AND to be completely without internet! What a crazy, lovely thing.

On a somewhat completely separate note, today at church Rachael showed me this quote. I think I read it twelve times. Is anyone getting sick of my heartfelt posts? I sure am. Someday I'll return to the woman I used to be, but for now life is a beautiful, terrifying adventure that I can't ignore. And lucky you, you get to endure it with me!!!!!

"After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul.

And you learn that love doesn't mean security, and presents aren't promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of maturity, not the grief of a child.

And you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans, and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you can really endure. That you really are strong, and that you really do have worth. And you learn, and you learn, and you learn. With every goodbye, you learn."

Isn't that lovely? It made me re-excited about being alive. With that said, it's 12:01 and officially MONDAY. Make it a good one friends.

my life.

2011-08-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

"Hi, I'm Rebbie, I'm new, and I'm incredibly excited to join your team here!!"

"Oh cool, where were you before this?"

"College."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"BYU."

"Oh....Brigham Young? Is that in....?"

"Utah."

"Ahhhhh......."

maybe it's midnight and I will regret writing this.

2011-08-10T23:47:00.000-07:00

I hope this doesn't come off preachy. I needed to write through my thoughts.

Today I was on the phone with mother and she told me how someone made a comment to her about reading my blog and how I was so lucky to have such an exciting life that seemed so perfect. While I was flattered, and happy I'd tricked someone to think my life is all rainbows and butterflies, I also felt the need to keep it real. If there's one thing I believe in it's authenticity and if there's one thing I hate it's internet-narcissism. So here goes an attempt to steer away from that.

Has the last month been exciting? Yes.

Has the last month meant some giant steps forward in life? Yes.

Has the last month been possibly the hardest of my life? YES.

The other day I mentioned to Rachael how the best part of my day is when my head hits the pillow. As it came out of my mouth I realized I sounded like someone in need of suicide watch. Thankfully, that statement is legitimately due to the intense comfort of my bed, but that being said, I've had easier times.

It's a new kind of lonely here, one I know makes me better but is still painful. It's going from a place of total comfort to a place of complete unknown. It's coming home to a house and not a home. It's meeting a billion people a day and just wishing one of them knew that you hate bananas or you wear fuzzy socks around your house.

Yet while it's been hard, I'd recommend moving away all by your lonesome to everyone in the universe. It took moving to a place where I knew no one to realize how much I'd come to define myself by things that really weren't me. It's the oddest, loveliest kind of simplicity to be alone, basically with yourself and with God.

I don't say any of this as a pity party or out of duty as a cynic, but more because I believe in the reality that no one's life is effortless or ever-glamorous. I believe reality is imperfect and I think that makes it better. I never want to dress my baby in Crew Cuts and I don't trust anyone who looks perfect all the time.

I am so grateful to be where I am right now. I have so many ridiculously amazing opportunities that I hope I'm making the most of. I feel quite confident that after working at this job my propensity to be egotistical will diminish and my offendability will, on a scale of one to ten, reach a zero.

What I have learned in the short time I've been here is that sometimes it takes people asking what you believe to realize why you believe it. It takes moving away to remember how much you love your family and friends. It takes having some idiotic new girl moments to quit taking yourself so seriously. It takes failing a few times to be happy with your best efforts.

Annnnnnd I'm tired. Here's to making this place feel like home.

Ho-Lee Clow!

2011-08-04T22:38:00.000-07:00

So this guy named Lee Clow is kind of a big deal in AdLand.

He's the reason why you buy anything (or everything) Apple makes, why you know about animals like the Energizer bunny or the chihuahua that quieros taco bell. He's been the mastermind behind Chiat for quite some time and I happen to sit right behind his office.

The other day I had a dorky ad person moment when I saw him for the first time and uttered a little gasp. I thought, Holy Cow!

Then I thought, Ho-Lee Clow! and realized I'm in the right job.

funny and female. feasible?

2011-07-28T23:07:00.001-07:00

Today at work two guys showed me a project they're working on (a project which must remain non-disclosed, thank you lawyers) for a car company (which I won't name) and it made me giggle quite a bit. It wasn't a typically comedic brand but the stuff was HILARIOUS.

I got really nostalgic for the days when I could do way funny things like this and call it school. This longing led me to wondering whether it's actually feasible to be female and funny, or whether it's like the WNBA and even women would just plain rather watch boys do it.

It seems this (skill?) would be women's crowning achievement at true equality, and we've made lots of headway lately, thanks to people like Liz Lemon.

But even I, feminist that I am, cannot say we're quite there yet. Case in point--Harvard Sailing team's "boys will be girls" has 3.2 million views, while it's lesser half "girls will be boys" has 1 million. If you haven't watched them, use the links to do so. My money says you'll cringe and give up about halfway through the second one. I did.

I get a little depressed when I realize that all guys really want is for girls to be less funny than them. Because let's face it--the only thing worse than someone being funny on purpose is a girl being funny on purpose. Sigh.

I think it would make some dead suffragettes really happy if we could add the funny merit badge to our sash. Until then, I'll keep laughing at my co-worker's jokes and dream for the day when the glass ceiling will shatter all over his face.

(that was more violent than intended but you know what i mean)

John Frieda lied.

2011-07-17T20:36:00.000-07:00

There have been a few horrid indications of adulthood lately. One of them was not going to the HP7 midnight showing. Even worse than not going to the movie was when I tweeted on July 14th and said, "t minus four days until HP7 comes out and I don't even have a ticket." Shortly thereafter someone corrected me that the movie in fact came out on July 15th. I felt like one of those old people who hasn't heard of the internets.

Another shocking moment was when I put my hair back in a bun the other day to reveal black roots. I kid you not, BLACK. Ok dirty blond but still! What is this?? Gone are the days when my hair was naturally bright blond and I could tell people I only had to color it in the Winter. I thought, "Gee, it sure would be nice to go blonder," which led me to this.

John Frieda to the rescue! This has to work right? They sell it at Target! Plus my sister-in-law used it and her hairs look great. So I tried it. The results were quick, if not terrifying.

I kid you not, John Frieda, I have ORANGE HAIR! ORANGE!!

The only thing to do was to put more in, in hopes that the orange is just a mutation that occurred when the 'blonder' mixed with the blackness of my roots. I looked on the ingredients and it says it contains "citrus and chamomile."

Somewhere, John Frieda sits in a lab squeezing buckets of lemon juice and packets of tea into little yellow bottles and laughs.

I am hoping beyond hope that this can be fixed and I don't look like a foreign exchange student who got hold of some hair dye forever. Until then I will sing the praises of my hairdresser in Utah (who is fabulous and a ridiculous deal and you should all call her-801.380.3334) and rot in my old age.

(ps) I should probably give some sort of life update: I just hit my two week mark in the LA. It feels like three years. Every day after work I go drive somewhere and usually end up lost. It's strange, but since I don't really know where I am, I don't really mind being lost. Usually it results in me discovering some new Winchell's donut shop so I'm ok with it. The other day I discovered Whole Foods and spent $7 on a box of organic grape nuts. Sometimes when I'm stressed I come home and dance around in my living room. There are no mirrors so I have no idea what I look like. It keeps me happy and the neighbors confused. Life is good.

"i think i'm a mermaid. or i was."

2011-07-11T14:45:00.000-07:00

I am obsessed with this woman. I have goosebumps, I'm inspired, I will re-dedicate myself to mastering that lunge she does in the Single Ladies video, I will buy anything she sells.

For some reason the video is cut off... If you want to watch it on YouTube, click here.

well, i'm alive.

2011-07-05T21:38:00.000-07:00

And I live in LA. So weird. I am tired/overwhelmed/happy and exhausted so this will be quick.

I had to blog about a few final events in p-town, most notably seeing HARRY AND THE POTTERS play at the SLC library. I've never been so happy.

(harry potter year 4 with his gryffindor sax)

The band is literally three guys (Harry Potter year 4, Harry Potter year 7, and their drummer) who were struggling to play horrible music and decided one day to rename themselves after the boy who lived. They now sing dorky wizard songs and I suppose make a living touring the country's libraries. Behold the power of branding.

Here is Robbie getting his appropriate t shirt signed, whilst telling Harry Potter year four about his idea for a Wizard Rock band, "Bellatrix and the Crux Hors." They liked it especially for its black leathery undertones.

Robbie, your magic really is real.

I got to help mama babysit these darlings, Emy and Charlie. We went to Seven Peaks and watched way too many movies. Here they are trying on Dad's old glasses.....obsessed.

Gangster Charlie?

My last night in p-town we went out on the lake and I couldn't have asked Mother Nature for a more perfect evening.

Then I drove with my mom and my sis for 12,00000 hours through weekend/holiday traffic with my life packed in two cars.

We painted walls and decorated and laughed and spent a billion dollars at Target and ate dinner sitting on a mattress in the middle of my empty living room.

I will post pictures when the place is looking more photogenic. I love my bedroom but the living room is, for all intents and purposes, a dance studio at this point. The spaciousness and hardwood floors are nice, but hopefully I'll fill it with something sooner or later. I'm realllll excited about decorating this place. Till then, I'm going to bed. Love n' hugz.

here's to you, pixel snob.

2011-06-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

I am positive many of you have heard this story and if so I apologize for repeating it, but I think on an occasion like today it deserves to be told.

This picture was taken after our house burned down in 1988. I am the little baby in the front.

How in the world did this happen, you ask?? Our house was heated by a wood-burning stove at the time, which required the ashes to be sprayed before being put in the garbage can. Unfortunately one night the ashes were a little smoldery and caught our car on fire, which caught its full gas tank on fire, which exploded and caught our house on fire.

Our neighbors called to alert my parents, who had no idea how serious the situation was at first. By the time they got outside they were surrounded by 40-foot flames and I can't even imagine how they were feeling.

As they sat with their neighbors and each other, watching their house burn down and waiting for the fire department, they realized there had been a slight miscommunication--Both my parents thought the other was going to get the baby out of the house....

(I've been told this story many times and every time this part turns to slow motion)

So what does my Dad do? Takes a deep breath and runs inside to rescue his little girl from the fiery flames. Apparently when he got to me I was entirely covered in soot. There was a white outline on my crib from where my body had been laying and when I opened my eyes they were the only thing on my body that wasn't completely black.

Needless to say I am quite grateful to my father. (aren't you?) Not many people can call their Dad their hero in quite so literal a sense, but he's also a hero in lots of other ways.

BOAT HERO: Here he is on some trick skis he wanted to try out.

Don't let the awkward picture throw you--while he's an incredible slalom skier, sometimes he likes to switch things up! The one thing that doesn't change is his prescription yellow goggles and his bullet proof vest of a life jacket.

TENNIS HERO: I don't think I can count how many times he's told me,

a) "Keep your eye on the ball until it hits your racket" and

b) "Have your racket back by the time the ball hits the ground."

I know, Dad!!! I guess I should start doing it so he can stop telling me...

FOOD HERO: When he's around there will be no shortage of delicious food, especially things like fresh fruit and artichoke hearts.

DOCTOR HERO: It's fun to have friends tell me they saw/worked with/were put to sleep by my Dad. They never fail to tell me how kind and at the same time witty he was. His fetish for laffy taffy jokes truly has no bounds.

PIANO HERO: Nothing was more vexing as a child than practicing the piano for hours only to have my dad sit down later and play my piece perfectly on the first try. Sheesh. He has amazing natural talent that unfortunately I didn't inherit.

IMPROVEMENT HERO: I think the man improves in his sleep. I have never met someone who is so diligent at consistently improving in every aspect he can. While I have complained to him on occasion that I just want to coast in stagnant mediocrity for a while, I'm so grateful for his example of never being complacent.

Last but not least, my dad is a PIXEL HERO: More realistically we call him a pixel snob. You better believe he jumped on the Laser Disc train when those things were hot, and since then it's made its way from HD to BluRay to who knows what's next. I could never define the difference between the two and honestly BluRay looks a little too real for me. Say what you will, the man loves his pixels.

I'm so lucky to have been raised by the most hardworking, diligent, and genuine father in the universe! He is an amazing example of humility and love, and I owe him so much more than my life. He cares about his family more than all his hobbies combined times ten and I hope he knows the feeling is mutual.

Happy Father's Day Dadio! Love you much.

i'm selling my coats.

2011-06-16T12:18:00.000-07:00

Welp, I got a job. At TBWA/Chiat/Day in Los Angeles where it's 70 degrees and sunny year round. What in this whole wide world???

While I feel the term 'dream job' is somewhat of an oxymoron, it may be semi-applicable. I was looking over my journal from last year and it's kind of crazy how many times the phrase, "I think I'll apply at Chiat, not that I have a chance but I might as well right?" comes up. I start July 5th. EEEEK.

For those who have no idea what that means or how to pronounce it, here's some stuff they've done.

This spot 'introduced Apple computers to the world' at the 1984 Superbowl.

This was done buy a BYU Alum who is stellar and has been such a help over the last few months and I owe him one of my children, even if I end up adopting them at 40 and single.

This was done last year and is cool because I will most likely be working on Pepsi...

And here's a snapshot of the agency. You can skip through the first part but it's pretty great.

This is obviously just a snippet of their work but I think they're cool. Sometimes when I tell people where i'm working they think I'm swearing or saying a naughty word of sorts. It's pronounced shyyy--uttt--day, so there you are.

As the last few weeks have feen spent between the King Henry pool, Seven Peaks and Utah Lake, I'm more than expecting a swift kick in the face from adulthood when I start working full time, especially since in this industry and at this agency full time is more like infinite-over-time. It's really strange to think I'm leaving Zion!! Leaving my home, my friends and everything that I know and is comfortable. Sigh. I'm full of a billion emotions but mostly just overwhelmed.

As for moving to LA, i'm feeling pretty good. Tanner is convinced I will be a Lakers fan by next season, and while nothing would be nicer for a Jazz fan than jumping on that bandwagon, I don't think he understands the hatred we are raised to feel. I'll most likely be living in Santa Monica so if anyone's been there, could you let me know what it's like? I'm going down this weekend for the first time ever, so let's hope I find a place to live.

I may or may not have read a book by Liz Gilbert and may or may not be treating her words as scripture right now:

"I've come to believe that there exists in the universe something I call "The Physics of the Quest"- a force of nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity or momentum. And the rule of the Quest of Physics maybe goes like this: "If you are brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting and set out on a truth-seeking journey, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue, and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher, and if you are prepared-most of all-to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then truth will not be withheld from you."

Here's to a new adventure, Lizzy Gilbert. Here's to eating and praying and loving (?) every bit as much as you did. Before this gets too epic, I'll end by saying...

I have a feeling the next little bit of my life is going to be insane.

I feel so incredibly lucky to be doing what i'm doing.

I am so terribly sorry for whoever has had to deal with me lately, heavens knows I've been completely self-absorbed.

I will miss P-town like crazy....slash I hope I never want to come back :)

shportants.

2011-06-13T12:52:00.000-07:00

I just remembered that this invention exists.

Mankind thought it was so smart until it realized how dorky it looked in the meantime. Baha!

I remember at my 6th grade science fair Garrett Mckay came up with the same idea. He called them "shpants." If only he'd had a good patent lawyer before they showed up in department stores. Sigh.

Searching "zip off pants" on google images produces possibly the frumpiest set of results I have ever seen. 6.8 MILLION OF THEM, I might add.

Like if you wanna wear one pant and one short you can do that.

Or if you're a cop and you still wanna wear your shpants, you can do that.

Or if you're gothic but you wanna wear some shpants you can do that too.

Cabela's come with a very informational picture. Here is their product description:

Cabelas Guidewear® men's zip off pants are great for travel -- zip off the legs when the sun gets hot, and pack the many pockets with everything from guidebooks to sunscreen and a sacklunch. The waist can gather on a skinny guy, but they're handy travelers. Add atraveler's money belt and you'll be carrying everything you need.

Call me materialistic, but curse the day when I stuff my sacklunch in the pocket of my shpants.

and on a lighter note...

2011-06-07T21:05:00.000-07:00

Had to share this. Again, proof that real genius exists in the world.

when you're bored, but leaving.

2011-06-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

You will wish life had a fast forward button, and then think maybe you'd actually rather have rewind. Pause?

You will go to the gym. As the class is getting out you’ll think I don’t have time to stay for sit-ups and then you’ll realize you could actually stay all day.

You will find yourself at the mall. Your friend who works at Nordstrom will comment at how she keeps seeing you there and you will realize hey, I should stop this materialistic habit before i become all materialistic.

This will make you think about all the people you could have helped with all your free time and you will feel guilty. You will think about Serving Someone and start making a list of who/how you could serve.

You will remember when you were little and you made the mistake of telling your mom you were
bored and she said you could help her vacuum the stairs if you're that bored.

You will think about your friends who have babies who probably wish they were bored sometimes and you will try to take advantage of being bored because once you have babies you probably won’t be bored ever again.

You will realize at some point that the reason you are so agitated with boredom is because you are out of the habit. You wish you had been less productive.

You will think about how you should probably call some of your friends to see them because you are leaving soon. You will think actually maybe it’s better to stop seeing them now so you can get used to it. You wonder if they will miss you when you're gone. You will know it's immature but you will kind of somewhat hope they will be sad.

You will suddenly never know what to wear. You will stand in front of your closet, not caring what you look like but having no ability to choose what to put on.

Your monthly Netflix fee will increase in value.

You will remember times when you wished you had just a few minutes to sit and be bored. You will realize that in a month you will be have no time to be bored and you’ll probably wish you could be bored and even when you will be bored, will you have anyone to be bored with?

You will think maybe I should’ve gone on that blind date. Then you will remember how tiring it would have been and that you’d rather be bored.

You will be overwhelmed by all the time you have to finally read books. You will go to the bookstore and buy five books and read a part of each one every day and be frustrated at never finishing them. If you could just finish something.

You will wonder why you keep spelling boredom 'boredome' and realize your brain has possibly, to some degree, ceased functioning.

You will be trapped inside your head and think too much. You will wonder how you can show up to your job way creative. Maybe you should think weirder. Maybe you should watch some obscure films. Maybe you should get your hipster glasses back even though you got your eyes lasered.

You will realize that the only thing that makes you feel better about being bored is writing about it and then you'll feel grateful you got a job where you could write and then feel scared that what if you actually aren't that good at it.

You will think all this in the space of ten minutes, sitting in your kitchen, wondering what to do next. You will start to do something. And then before you're done you will think it alllll again.

that one time i got punked by the canadian zoob.

2011-06-02T13:09:00.000-07:00

After an adequate healing period, I feel it is finally time for the following episode to be shared with the world.

When you go to BYU, dating is part of the curriculum. I once even had a classmate use as an excuse for not doing his assignment the fact that he "was having a first kiss on a second date." It should probably be said that he wore crocodile boots and I detested his guts, but still you get the point--we date a lot here.

Because dating is such an integral part of a BYU education, I have decided to present you with a little test question:

Which of the following elements does not belong with the others?

a) spaghetti

b) pudding

c) ribs

d) twister

e) food fight

f) date

g) all of the above can be combined to make something romantic and adventurous

If you guessed F, you are correct! If you guessed G, you are either crazy or you are the zoobie who punked me.

Sometimes at BYU people think it's ok to ask strangers out. In my opinion this is never acceptable, unless the stranger happens to be Justin Bieber or something of the sort.

One fateful day, however, on a cold walk home from campus, I was startled by a non-bieber stranger who came up beside me with a chipper, "hey, how's your day goin??" Surprised, I responded and we began to converse. He told me he was thinking of going into advertising, so naturally I got all excited and began telling him the ins and outs of the program. Alas he mistook my enthusiasm for interest and cleverly came back with, "well, maybe we could go on a date and talk about it then?"

What else could I say?

Let it be known that this boy is a totally nice, clean-cut, i'm sure upstanding citizen who will find a great wife someday. I'm just not sure it will be me.

The day of our date (which happened to be April 1st) I received a text from him that said, "Hey, we're going to do some messy stuff tonight, is that ok?"

Messy stuff? Is that a euphemism? Trying to appear cool and low-maintenance, I responded saying I didn't mind getting dirty (not a euphemism) and made some joke about us having a food fight, to which he responded that a food fight would be an accurate mess-level for me to dress for.

Dread! Dread! Fear! Desperate search for excuse!

When we arrived at his apartment it was him, his brother, his sister, and both of their significant others. All five grew up in the same small town in Canada and all five did not laugh at Rebbie's jokes. Likewise, Rebbie did not laugh at theirs.

The first activity was not a food fight but actually its evil step-cousin, the eating contest. The food to be eaten? Spaghetti and ribs, washed down with chocolate milk (common meal in Canadia I presume??) It went like this: The boys went first. They had to sit down at the table and lift their arms up, while the girls reached underneath and shoveled food into their cake holes. Nothing quite like a man with spaghetti slodged all over his face. When it came time for the girls to pig out, I employed acting skills I didn't know I possessed.

I sat down at the table. I lifted my arms. I succumbed to the spaghetti. But after a few bites I felt ill. How do those asians on Coney Island do it? Oh my good heavens!!! For fear of losing my spaghetti, I began to chew politely, much to my competitive date's dismay. I looked up through pasta debris flying through the air. I saw his sister sitting opposite me, her face, hair and ears covered in spaghetti, laughing. At this point I knew I could never make him happy.

After we cleaned things up, he pushed out the table and rolled a giant piece of white contact paper out on the kitchen floor. He retrieved what can only be termed vats of different colored pudding from the fridge. Red, yellow, green, blue. He proceeded to splat dollops of colored pudding on what had now become a twister board. A pudding twister board.

Put your right hand in the yellow pudding!

Put your left foot in the red pudding!

Pudding sludged through our digits and around the paper until eventually it all mixed together to coat the paper in a nondescript greyish paste. Alas, I failed out of the game pretty quickly and watched the remainder from the sidelines. After the men were thoroughly sweaty, red-faced and covered in pudding, the game ended. (I am so sorry I'm still writing this post. I am so sorry if you are still reading it. But the truth must be told.) Wouldn't you know it, that darned Canadian zoobie stood up and yelled, "PUDDING FIGHT!!"

I stood with my arms in the air and let that stranger slather me in pudding. Really, what else could I do? Covering my face, coating my love handles, down the back of my shirt. Pudding.

I left that night feeling like an awful, high maintenance word that rhymes with witch. I have not seen this individual since the incident and looking back now, halfway wonder if it was real life. The fact that it occurred on April 1st has caused many to speculate the nature of his intentions. Did I get fooled? Most definitely. But was it on purpose? He just seemed way too nice (albeit confused) for that to be the case. In keeping with the curriculum, I've decided to give him an A+ for creativity, messiness and innovative means for breaking the touch barrier. As far as other date categories go, I believe I should keep those grades to myself. As thankful as I am to my Alma Mater for such a well-rounded education, I am even more thankful to have left it.

i heart books.

2011-05-30T19:38:00.001-07:00

Usually I heart making them. But I've just discovered the beauty of destroying them. Anyone seen these? I want to try.

firstings of late.

2011-05-29T10:54:00.000-07:00

Had some great firsts lately. I actually completed the Restaurant Loner challenge and found it quite pleasant! I'm not sure it counts since I was in LA, by myself, but still I'm giving myself credit. It seems that with a good book, all loner tasks can be made pleasant. I read The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien and would highly recommend it!

Anyway, other firsts include a random drive through Midway that led to checking out the crater at the homestead. Anyone been there? This place is crazy. Indoor scuba pool/hot tub? If only i'd brought my swimsuit.

I guess part of scuba training includes lugging another human through the water. That's what they all seemed to be doing at least. Perhaps it's emergency scuba training, should your comrade's oxygen run short or you discover a wounded fish?

Also I attended a 1920's party. Flapper clothing is incredibly difficult to come by unless your great grandmother happens to be mine. I discovered a bunch of her old dresses at my parent's house and they were amazing! Now I know where I inherited my terrible love for fashion.

Flappers can thizzz face too.

Also I think I maybe got a job. I am hesitant to admit this to the interweb since nothing is in paper yet BUT I am so excited slash completely overwhelmed. More to come on this for certain, once I am a little more able to share :) I'm growing up. It's weird. Someone help me know how to be an adult please? Thanks!

bunny gnaw.

2011-05-23T19:32:00.000-07:00

This Easter the lovely Natalie Camp surprised all the Cheetahs with lovely little easter baskets. In each of them was this:

Giant, solid, chocolate bunny. I have thus far avoided looking at the Nutrition Facts, but I'm sure they are terrifying and only apply to one serving out of the 25 that make up the entire unit. You can see I've eaten the ears of mine, but after this it gets a little difficult. The body of the bunny is quite thick and impossible to break with your hands.

I've tried cutting it with a knife. I've tried cutting it with scissors. Both result in chocolate shavings, and who wants to eat those?

We have each hidden our bunnies in our respective pantries and until lately I hadn't known how anyone was getting theirs eaten....until tonight!

When I saw Dani's sitting on its haunches on the kitchen table. I am so relieved to see I'm not the only one whose self-respect has plummeted as I've been forced to gnaw on my bunny. It's actually shockingly similar to the way a bunny would gnaw something else, say a carrot. I actually heard the other day that if bunnies don't have something to gnaw on, their teeth will just continue to grow! So I'm taking comfort in the fact that I am a) perhaps keeping my teeth nicely sanded and b) doing unto my bunny what it would do to me, if I were a carrot.

movie loner.

2011-05-15T08:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I found myself in Salt Lake City at 4 pm with three hours to kill before my next wedding. I couldn't think of any friends to call. I was only a few hundred feet away from Gateway but my unemployment thankfully nixed that option. It was pouring rain so a stroll through the park was out. Then I remembered an incident from my past.

One day at Ogilvy last summer I had a conversation with an interesting fellow. He had just won a competition Ogilvy put on called "The Best Salesperson on Earth." The idea was for people to send in videos of them selling a red brick and the most interesting/persuasive person won an internship at Ogiltown.

Well, this guy was the winner and as a reward got to sit by me! One day we were talking and somehow the topic came up of going to restaurants or movies alone. He told me he did it all the time and I was semi appalled. Where I come from we're cheap and the only way we pay for entertainment is if there's a social benefit attached to it.

He challenged me to do it that week. And I chickened out. I'm not sure why it seemed so hard or awkward. There's just something about answering the question, "How many?" with "one" that is unsavory to my tongue. Am I alone in this? Can anyone agree and make me feel better about myself? What's weird to me is that I go to plenty of social functions alone and feel totally fine about it. So why is it difficult to be alone amidst a group of strangers?

Sitting there in my car, I took one final look at Gateway and decided to conquer my fear of being a movie loner. Props to my trusty iPhone 4 for finding this movie at the lovely and equally sketchy BROADWAY THEATER.

Anyone seen it? I thought it was visually stunning but I'm not sure I would've enjoyed it had I not read the book. I'd definitely recommend it but more on a level of it being fun to see snippets of a book you love acted out on screen than a film that can stand on its own.

As for being there by myself, it was honestly kind of liberating. Look at me breaking through the confines of social norms! For real though, I think everyone should take the movie loner challenge. I suppose this means that the restaurant loner challenge is next on my list, which seems incredibly more difficult. In New York maybe, but in Provo that just seems terrible. I will be on the lookout for a quaint cafe I can bring my book to and enjoy some alone time. As always, suggestions are welcome.

P.s. Anyone know how I can get my Ha-Ken post back? Apparently Blogger went AWOL the other day and killed it.

Ha-Ken

2011-05-10T21:18:00.000-07:00

Get it?

I don't suppose you would, unless you know my good friend (and prom king) HAWKEN VANCE.

The thing is, he's got this legendary laugh that has been known to make animals deaf and humans happy, albeit bewildered. Robbie and I brainstormed what we could make for his birthday that would be the most appropriate. We thought of making it say Ha-ha-Hawken or something along those lines but then somehow an idea came to us.

I've been known to make a cake or two in my day. When I was little I went through this crazy phase of making three-tiered cakes and decorating them with flowers and twigs from the yard. (...?) I thought I'd try something new, and decorate a cake using a Barbie. Or more specifically, a Ken. A Ha-Ken.

You like? I've rarely seen him so happy.

The most awkward part was when we had to wash Ken's shorts off. First Robbie bathed him in the river on campus with only a paper towel to help. "Is this what it's like to be a mother?" said Robbie, as he wiped Ken's loins with the damp white cloth.

Anyway, I decided the sink was a better option but then I kind of forgot and left him there. Poor Nat came home from a week long vacation to find a nudist guarding the faucet. Sorry dear!

If you need a cake decorated...scratch that. If you need ANYTHING AT ALL, please let me know. I know a girl who has lots of free time and could use a reason to get out of bed.

happy day my mother dear

2011-05-08T20:22:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to give a little shout out to my mamacita Susie Q.

I'm not sure if anyone has ever met her without immediately loving her. I know for me it was love at first sight.

A lot about my mother can be summed up in a little tale about dancer feet and french toast.

Susan J. Groesbeck has the most incredible feet you've ever seen. Ridiculously high arches that no doubt served her well when she was on the dance team, as well as the Glee Club at Highland High. I, as her semi-flat-footed daughter, have cursed whatever punnett square cheated me out of inheriting them on many occasions. One trait I did inherit, however, is her gasp. If you have spent any time with me at all, you unfortunately know what I'm referring to.

So anyway, one morning she was making some delicious french toast before school. She was carefully carting pieces of french toast from the griddle to our plates via small black spatula. On one trip she somehow lost control of the situation, and at this point everything became slow motion. The steaming piece of toast spun through the air towards the ground. My mother gasped. She stuck out her foot.

(this is not her foot but it could be)

And in a moment of homemakerly miracles, the french toast landed right on her big toe. Call me crazy but I swear it spun around for ten seconds before stopping there, perfectly perched with her polished toe poking through. All she said was, "I'll eat that one," and kept on making breakfast.

I tell this story to illustrate not only the ridiculous incidents she has created for our benefit, but also her sacrificial love. This woman doesn't know how not to constantly serve everyone around her. From teaching step aerobics to the ladies in our Stake at 5:45 AM, to going to Girl's Camp for ten years straight, to being the most animated grandma Gigi in the world, the woman is a rock star and an angel all at the same time.

I love her bunches and very much doubt I will ever be able to do half what she has done in her life, let alone catch breakfast foods with my feet.

Love you Gigi!

Eliane's Bakery

2011-05-05T14:17:00.000-07:00

So this decision to try new things has taken a turn for the unhealthy. Somehow I find myself limited to a combination of fattening foods and absurd classes at the gym. While I have yet to try Aqua Cardio, I'm running out of options before that becomes necessary. At least it balances itself out though, right? In theory at least.

My latest food venture is ELIANE'S BAKERY. I've heard about this French bakery for quite some time. It's located on State Street right next to Expedx, and I kind of love how hideous it is. Holly berries still decorating the windows? Don't worry the inside is decorated with nothing but silk plants and the Arch de Triomphe painted on one wall.

The guy who owns it will greet you with a loud BONJOUR! And I'm honestly not sure he speaks English.

(unintentional french face by mme michelle)

Now since I've been to Europe and am cultured, I can tell you how much better French pastries are than American. Jk but really it was really really good. Just light and delicious and you should go there and eat something.

This was my favorite. Go eat it now!!

The job hunt continues. Sigh. Filled with good moments and bad moments. Some of the good ones included reading A River Runs Through It on the grassy knoll in the sun outside my house. The language is gorgeous, definitely lived up to the hype, and you can read it in an afternoon.

Some of the bad moments can be summed up in one I had last night, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the kitchen window at 1 AM, funfetti all over my fingers and yellow frosting smeared on my face. Ohh dear. Has it come to this?

If anyone has any ideas of things I can try that don't include food, I'm all ears. Spiral Jetty is on the list for tomorrow. We will be eating carrots as our snack.

couldn't have said it better myself.

2011-05-02T21:12:00.000-07:00

Zuckerburg must be selling my info. How else could they peg my perfect man?

BUBBLE NAILZ.

2011-05-01T10:20:00.000-07:00

What is this contraption, you ask?

Though it looks like a ventilated mini boxing glove, it is actually an invention known as BUBBLE NAILS, designed to help nail polish dry faster and be protected along the way. I have made fun of Danielle for owning these for quite some time. Now that I'm all about trying new things I decided I should try them out instead of teasing in ignorance.

My experiment consisted of two variables:
Variable 1: Un-bubbled fingers. My thumb and middle finger fell into this category.
Variable 2: Bubbled fingers. My pointer, ring, and pinky fingers make up this category.

I tested my theory by completing tasks I normally would. I g-chatted with Ryan and the fool had no idea!! I unloaded the dishwasher. I tried to do my hair but it was kinda hard.

The result? No noticeable difference between variables one and two. I can now make fun of Dani with peace of conscience.

pilates & joe's cafe

2011-04-28T10:14:00.000-07:00

My first adventure consisted of two slightly opposite endeavors. The first was PILATES. Beats Yoga hands down. I don't know why I've gone to Yoga all those (three) times when I could have been at Pilates.

The second was eating at Joe's Cafe. Most random, tiny little place on State Street that I would never have seen if I wasn't looking. Pretty sure Joe packs more calories per square bite than any restaurant on earth. He takes your order, makes your food, and talks to you in between each step. So refreshing to be in a place where there doesn't seem to be any hurry.

Here is Nat and her omelet...she gets credit for discovering the venue.

So intense.

See all those pictures on the wall? Joe insists on taking a pic with every customer who comes through. There are so many that by now they aren't even taped to the walls, they just hang there holding onto each other.

We are now a permanent part of Joe's decor! Wooohoo. While I doubt the pilates made up for the omelet, both were totally worth a try.

diaries of a post grad: day 1

2011-04-26T09:11:00.000-07:00

Welp. Day one as a post-grad was slightly rough.

I spent three hours at the gym. I closed the blinds at 11 am and put on Dirty Dancing. (for the first time ever! hellllloooo patrick swayze) I sat at home for hours waiting for a recruiter to not call me back. I somehow found myself at the mall, smelling perfumes I have no power to buy. I ate a sandwich at Gandolfo's and fries at Five Guys and probably 8,000 Cadbury eggs. At 10 PM I was home face down on the couch.

Ahhhh!!!!

I know what you're thinking--enjoy this time while you have nothing to do and no one to answer to. Trust me I've been telling myself the same thing. But as someone who's self-esteem level is somewhat frustratingly linked to her productivity level, it's easier said than done.

It's so frustrating to feel totally capable and ready to have a job yet not knowing how to get one. I feel totally overwhelmed. I feel myself closing slowly into fetal position. I cannot let myself go there. I've been thinking about what the best part of yesterday was and the answer is glaringly obvious: PATRICK SWAYZE.

I've decided to dedicate my life (outside the job hunting and gym going) to doing everything I've wanted to do but not had time for during college. Basically I'm sick of winning the game "never have I ever." It's quite shocking really, how much I haven't done. Considering I've lived in London and New York, isn't it terrible I have yet to eat a Big Mac?? I've seen Jersey Boys and Twelfth Night yet have never watched Billy Madison.

If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that lack of new experience and lack of confidence kill creativity faster than anything else. So I will do my best to stuff my self full of newness and tell myself i'm awesome as much as I can.

What would you do if you had no life? Movies I should watch? Books I should read? Road trips I should take? Any and all suggestions will be much appreciated. In the meantime, I may try Pilates this afternoon. Why not?

enter to learn, go forth to serve.

2011-04-20T14:03:00.000-07:00

TODAY I graduate college. I am not quite sure how I feel about it. This post serves to explore how I have or have not fulfilled my soon-to-be Alma Matter's motto.

Four and a half years ago I packed up my clothes, books, hopes and dreams and drove 3.7 miles from my parents' house to my College dormitory.
I remember Brienne Roney sitting on the floor unpacking her things, and realizing we'd be spending every waking and sleeping moment together in a 5 x 5 room.

(ok she wasn't really sitting like this. that would have been creepy.)

I quickly learned that Brie was legally blind, vegetarian, and one of the only people who could share my angst at the question:

"Where are you from?"
"Provo."
"Wait. You...born and raised? In Provo? And you live in the dorms?"
(I'M TRYING TO BE INDEPENDENT AND HAVE AN AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCE HERE!)
Sigh.

i love this girl.

I learned as a freshmen way too much about insecurity, something the protection of high school in happy valley had somehow saved me from. I admit to part of it being my fault, as in a flurry of confusion, or discovering myself, or who knows what, I dyed my golden locks brown.

Unfortunately my desires to be an exotic brunette ended in a year of not having to try too hard to avoid hormonal freshman boys.

I learned as a freshman how to party hop like a boss. I'm still not sure how we physically attended so many dance parties in such a short period of time, but back in the day those were some goooood times. From A51 to The Lounge to The Glenhood, we definitely did our time on the dance floor.

Sophomore year I learned how to hablar espanol cada dia con mi cumpaniero de cuarto Betsita. After two fuegos en la cocina, Betsy made a habit of cocinando con un jar full of agua by her side.

Junior year meant LONDON...Four months I am quite positive will forever remain the happiest time of my life.
Real job?

Real school?

Real boys?

No such thing.

I learned in London about Shakespeare, Magnums, and The Woman Question. Or wait...what did that mean again?
I learned that the sightseeing (scaffolding) and traveling were fabulous, the best times were the hours spent in room 3 with fourteen girls on bunk beds. Ohhh how I love you guys.

I also learned in London I'd been accepted to BYU's advertising program.

Finally, I want to be in college!

Finally, weird people like me!

Weird people who make me laugh and get my jokes!

Weird people who opened my mind to so many things and became my bffffs!

Senior year I learned about a little place called the Candy Shoppe. I am fairly certain I have raved too much about the CS, so I will try to keep it short.

Senior year was Creative Track year. I learned that the hardest years can be the best. Also that sometimes it's good to spend all your free time in a pile on the world's most comfortable couch with five of your best friends talking about ads or Jack Shephard or politics or men.

(where is mj?)

Supersenior year may be too close for me to know what I really learned from it. Except that I am so grateful I somehow stumbled into living with these girls.

And that worry is much harder on your happiness than failure.

As I embark across the threshold of graduation, I wonder who in the world I will go forth to serve.

Leo Burnett? Ogilvy? DDB? GAP? Seriously, nothing sounds so good right now as being a brainless employee who goes to the pool after my five hour shift.

Likely I will serve an advertising agency in some big city in the continental United States. Likely in that city I will serve in some church calling, maybe trying to reactivate ladies in the relief society again or planning last minute games of catch phrase for FHE.

While I would really rather serve a man dinner after a long day at his sexy job, I fear that option is outside my control...

Deciding who/what/where to serve is probably the most overwhelming thing I've ever had to choose. How are we supposed to leave the safety and happiness of Provo Neverland? Where friends gather like weeds and men flow like punch?

There have been plenty of stresses and disappointments over the last few years. But it's strange how you somehow forget about those when you're ready to leave.

I have no idea where I will be in a few of months. It's stressful and frustrating and overwhelming to have to say that. But somehow I have this weird feeling like things are going to work out. Probably because I'm such an optimist.

I love you cougartown. Thank you for loving me back.

the result.

2011-04-19T15:08:00.001-07:00

Just thought I'd share what I came up with. Good heavens 450 is too short for my long-winded self.

ROUSTABOUT

It was so cold, Sarah Seymour, you calling my house to ask Ms. Patel if her student Raj could step out of class for a moment.

That’s Raj Patel, R-A-J P-A-T-E-L, and I’m the home school kid. Last year my mom convinced Fairmont to let me on the third grade spelling team, and thanks to me we won Regional and State Championships. The picture in the yearbook said, “Spelling Club Gains National Fame” and showed ten third graders sitting in a row on those metal chairs from the lunchroom. The tenth third grader, me, was half cut out of the picture and where my name should have been it said (No Info).

I was mad about that and Sarah knew it, but it hasn’t stopped her from inviting me to guest spell at all the important bees. My mom calls me the pinch-speller, the one who comes in and bails everyone out. But I’m fed up and tired of being their trophy puppet! Their marionette! Sarah made it clear on the phone how she could and would have called Zoe Ratliff except her house had been swallowed by a sinkhole and she wouldn’t be coming to school anymore.

I wished a similar fate upon Sarah as she stood up, her bottom tethered momentarily to the chair by a thick piece of pink bubble gum Dave Riester had stuck there. As she said C-R-Y-S-T-A-L I thought maybe the ground would get hungry tonight and swallow her house up, whole. She’d be buried peacefully in the earth where there were no telephone wires and no way to call me for State.

We were tied now with Ridgefield Elementary. One mistake of theirs would send us to state for the second time. Their top speller, Eddy Maxfield, stood up and clunked toward the mic. He was big and had this gross neck like a pelican who had something stuck in there. He spelled CHARIOT correctly. Sarah whispered fiercely at me, “Pssst! Patel! If you screw up, your teacher’s gonna put you in timeout!”

I stood and walked to the microphone, my shoes illuminating each footstep.

“All right Mr. Patel. Your word is: ROUSTABOUT.”

Hmm. Two “ows.” I wonder if it’s an “ow” or an “ou.” W, used in the words Weathervane, Writhe, Owl. U, used in the words Under, Uniform, and Ouch.

“May I hear the definition please?”

“ROUSTABOUT: A laborer who typically performs temporary, unskilled, or underappreciated work.”

I thought for a moment. I looked at Sarah Seymour.

“ROUSTABOUT. R-A-J P-A-T-E-L. ROUSTABOUT.” I walked back to my seat in slow motion and said “in your face” with my eyes.

It was cold what I did, huh Sarah Seymour? It was so cold.

my finals are better than yours.

2011-04-13T22:29:00.000-07:00

Ok maybe I should let that joke die. But before then I must share my final assignment for my creative fiction class:

Write a short story that meets each of the criteria below:
-be exactly 450 words
-have the title "roustabout"
-include these words or objects: tether, pelican, marionette, weathervane
-include a character death by an act of God
-begin and end with the words, "it was so cold"

I am a bit at a loss as to where to start but I'll take it over the testing center any day. Anyone have any ideas? Anyone know what "roustabout" even means?

funny.

2011-04-10T09:49:00.000-07:00

Anyone else see this last week? I kinda want to be friends with him.

what's in an about me section?

2011-04-04T22:35:00.001-07:00

People may call me judgmental. I call myself perceptive.

Recently Spence was telling me about some guy at the gym (spence is not a tool) who wanted to fight him or something (i promise, he's really not). Naturally I requested to see this man's Facebook profile. I was less shocked than delighted to see his interests.

"MMA, Boxing, Muay Thai, Jiu Jitsu, Road Trips, Learning New Things, Basketball, Baseball, INVESTING, Weightlifting Bodybuilding, Watching Movies, Going out to Eat."

One of these things is not like the other. Right? Maybe it's just me. The icing on the cake though came in a box classified as "Basic Information"

I will refrain from saying many things about this person. What I will say is that I became itchingly curious as to what my own 'about me' section said. The result?

"I'm currently living in London. My roommates consist of 40 other girls and 1 boy and I am somehow still loving life!!"

Oh hey, Fall 2008! My music interests consisted of Corinne Bailey Rae, Colbie Caillat and the Step Up soundtrack. Sheeeeesh.

I have since (somewhat) updated my about my section but honestly isn't this whole 'capture my personality online' thing so exhausting? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy Facebook as much as the next girl, it's just that I so infinitely prefer real life.

I'm hoping the above mentioned yet nameless individual will find it in his heart, if he ever hears of me picking fights at the gym and stalks me on Facebook, not to judge a girl by her 'about me' section.

RHR.

2011-04-02T18:44:00.000-07:00

Those who go to BYU may have seen the recently installed creek that wraps around the south end of campus, the area formerly and colloquially referred to as rape hill. I'm not sure if that awful nickname is what inspired the renovation, but it is now quite a lovely place. This Friday marked the Ad Lab's first annual George Washington's Rape Hill Regatta, a day we (I) have dreamed about for many moons.

The idea was to build a fleet of boats out of materials that cost less than three George Washington's ($3) each and race them down. "Race" is a relative term, since the river moves at probably 2 mph. But the lazy pace and the 65 degree weather combined to make it the pleasantest of afternoons.

Umm this is my boat. Complete with percy/he-man captain and sparklers on the back.

Boat shoes were a must.

Not surprisingly Robbie Rane stole the show. I'm thinking I should start devoting my blog entirely to him.

This video is a little taste of the intensity. I was in first place THE WHOLE TIME until Jon's milkjug surpassed me at the last moment. Forgive the screams and Blair Witch Project camerawork.

The only problem with the grandiosity of Robbie's boat was that it got quite stuck in the tunnel on the first heat. Suffice it to say they spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get it out and here is the moment of rescue. Don't tell BYU.

I graduate college in three weeks, and doing things like the RHR are part of my denial concerning the fact that I will soon be schoolless and jobless. Stay tuned for more.

book report.

2011-03-21T22:01:00.000-07:00

As an English Minor you face quite a struggle to fit in with all the Majors you attend classes with. They name drop books like nobody's business and it can be quite exhausting.

In my latest attempt to elevate myself to their culture level, I read....

And I have to say it is maybe the most beautiful thing I've ever read.
All I want now is to be a cowboy, or maybe just to take one as my lover. Either way you must read it, NOW.

Upon googling the cover image, however, I came upon this discovery.

While I'm a firm believer that book > movie, you better believe I put this on the top of my Netflix queue. What is it about the Matt Damon?

might as well be strangers.

2011-03-18T00:19:00.001-07:00

After being on vacation with my parents for a week, it has occurred to me that their approach to parenting my sister and myself has been entirely inconsistent. I always had a sneaking suspicion this was going on but it wasn't until this trip that my suspicions were confirmed.

It happened one day as we were driving in the car to watch a tennis match. (we've been here for the BNP PARIBAS OPEN, which I will no doubt talk about at some future point) Anyway, as we were driving I mentioned how I no longer believed I possessed the stamina to get a tan. This is good news to the parents, shows them that I am growing up and beginning to make responsible choices instead of living the idle lifestyle that maintaining a tan requires. Not two minutes after this conversation, however, my mother made a rule that Michelle couldn't use sunscreen for at least our first hour at the pool.
???
This is disconcerting for two reasons. One, because our mother is still making rules that have to do with sunscreen. Two, that the 'rule' goes entirely in opposition to all we had just decided was right. Right?
My Dad, however, agreed with the rule, saying that it was "time for michelle to re-awaken her melanocytes." (Apparently those are cells that take in sunshine, it's exhausting being the only one of us who is non medically educated)
The more we thought about it, the more discoveries we made.

When in Anthropologie:
(to michelle) "It's $398 dollars? Hmm, well it fits so great. I think we can get two of them."
(to rebbie) "How about we go check the sale rack?"

When about to go on a date:
(to michelle) "Just....kiss him!"
(to rebbie) "Remember who you are."

When partaking of any kind of food:
(to michelle) "Why don't you go ahead and finish it."
(to rebbie) "Haven't you eaten enough of that?"

Apparently it's true that good parents tailor their parenting to each individual child. I will say though, it attests to our relationship that we can discuss these issues openly and laugh about them. Here's to being an adult child of the coolest multi-focused parents I know.

i am crying.

2011-03-08T23:05:00.000-08:00

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Proof that there are still some real geniuses in the world.

What a difference a w, g and h make.

2011-03-06T21:11:00.000-08:00

Often when I tell people I am a Copywriter there is a bit of confusion that ensues. I thought I would take this moment to clarify the issue.

Because I don't usually spell my title when I share it, people tend to confuse me with my much more sophisticated legal counterpart, the Copyrighter.

I will admit I'm not positive on this being the official job title, nor do I know exactly what the job entails, but I imagine it to be someone who uses this symbol a lot and brings justice to the world of plagiarism.

One time my sister in law told me she thought I should go to law school and study Copyright Law. While I appreciate her confidence in my intellect, what she doesn't know is that I spent the duration of the only law class I ever took designing swimsuits in my notebook for my nonexistent fashion line.

At best a copywriter will make people the across the globe Just Do It. They will cause you to wonder if you've got milk and buy anything from the man your man could smell like.

At worst they will word vomit things like "WE SUCK....FAT! Enlighten Lipo Center" on freeway billboards and make you wonder why anyone would ever, ever, ever intentionally go into the business of advertising.

I would die if I had to be a Copyrighter. I might die trying to be a Copywriter. I'm actually probably just being dramatic. Either way, now you know a little more about me since I don't talk about myself enough on this blog!

sometimes youtube speaks to my soul.

2011-03-03T11:30:00.000-08:00

Nothing encapsulates more perfectly how I felt during all 10 years of my ballet training.

Thanks to Shelly & Les for sharing :)

i love this...

2011-02-22T11:47:00.000-08:00

...although I have a feeling my weirdness is weirder than most people's.

boys will be (teenage) boys

2011-02-08T20:58:00.000-08:00

Alarmingly often I enter my cave of a bedroom at night and hear Dani's voice from somewhere in the dark:

"still going."

Her words are muffled by the sound of drums being played by our next door (male) neighbors. When I say next door I mean as in we share a wall. As in he might as well be banging his hand on the wall. Or maybe even hanging out in our bedroom banging on the wall. It is usually difficult to discern what they are playing, except for when they play Benny and the Jets for three hours.

On one such night I was in the living room studying as Dani emerged slowly from the basement, manic facial expression and hair askew.

She stood silent for a moment before banging three times on the wall and yelling "BENNY!"

Being the southern belle that she is, Danielle is too nice to say anything to these neighbors. Being the non-southern non-belle that I am, I walked right over to their apartment and down to their lair.

"Hey guys! It sounds really good :) :) :) Hey, so I don't mean to be a brat but my roommates both teach school in the morning and they'd really appreciate if you could maybe stop playing those drums right now."

"Oh, what?? You can hear this?"

"Yeah! Weird I know, but we kinda share that wall."

"Oh, I thought these were my quiet drums."

"No...."

The shocking thing is, they were genuinely shocked.

Do quiet drums exist???

math fix.

2011-02-04T14:03:00.000-08:00

I believe I have now officially entered the phase of life entitled:
"I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD ACTUALLY GRADUATE COLLEGE LET ALONE WITHOUT A MAN TO MAKE ME HAPPY OR PAY MY AUTOMOBILLZ."

Sigh.

This phase of life is filled with many ups and downs, ins and outs, but mostly just a lot of confusion.

So what is an innocent, upstanding Mormon girl supposed to turn to when there seem to be no answers in life?
MATH.
By some blessed miracle I have not had to do this horrid thing since high school. Since then I have pursued other paths that seem to pride themselves in having ZERO right answers.
Usually all this creative nonsense is fun but lately I'm finding it quite infuriating.

So the other night I download a worksheet of times tables. I then took my roommate's advice and went to coolmath-games.com, where she sends her 4th graders when they get done with homework early.

If that doesn't make your bad-design blood run cold I don't know what does.

Anyway, I found it quite therapeutic and I recommend it to anyone who is single, in their 20-somethings, feeling semi (or majorly) lost, and in need of a clean way to deal with it.

Here's to using my everlasting optimism to look at this as one, big, answerless adventure.

just another day on the job.

2011-01-26T19:10:00.000-08:00

Today at work my buddy Robbie Rane and I turned our other buddy he-man into Percy Jackson.
I have a feeling this project is going to be a winner.

Stay tuneddddd.

COLLEGE.

2011-01-23T21:15:00.000-08:00

What is that creepy orange red glowing porch, you ask.
Could it be Provo's red light district?
Or maybe the insane asylum portion to a homemade haunted house?
No, folks. I regret to inform you it is actually a locally famous apartment known as the CHEETAH MANSION and I happen to have the honor of living there.

Why are all three of these cups a different height, you ask.

Why are all three cups a different shape?

Why is our ottoman broken? haha.

Why do we have 8,000 wedding announcements on our bulletin board?

Why are our stairs filthy when we got the carpets cleaned three weeks ago?

Why is there constantly a half eaten tub of funfetti frosting in the fridge?

I do believe it is because we are in COLLEGE.

And we are too poor/lazy (debatable) to buy a real light bulb so we use the anti-bug one we find in the basement. And we have a ghetto dishwasher that likes to melt our ugly brown cups into art projects. And Dani throws too many parties to keep the carpet clean. And all our friends are married. And because of that we have to eat frosting.

I admit I'm excited to get out but I admit even more that I kind of love College.

book report.

2011-01-17T13:53:00.000-08:00

Have you read this yet?

If not, go buy it now. It is absolutely charming. I read it this summer and can't get this quote out of my head:

"This obsession with dignity will ruin your life if you let it."

I'm done being a victim of dignity.

i'm embarrassed for you slc.

2011-01-10T22:27:00.000-08:00

If only the only thing you needed to be 100% compatible was to have eggs, turkey and water stocked in your fridge.

Oh wait, scratch the eggs. We're still perfect!!!

p.s. it's my birthday.

the first shocking discovery of 2011.

2011-01-07T15:06:00.000-08:00

This is a box of rags.

I know it looks like a bunch of diapers, but in reality it's a bunch of rags, one of the Christmas presents my Father gave to my Mother. No it wasn't a sexist insult, she really, genuinely can't get enough of these things. In fact, they have been a staple around our kitchen for as long as I can remember. They always look so perfectly sanitary while also being shockingly absorbent.

So before giving these 'gifts' to mother, of course father consulted Groesbeck Wrapping Co., an unofficial organization created by my sister and myself many years ago. (Yes, we made a commercial for ourselves and showed it to my family in the hopes of gaining gift-wrapping business. Do you think i chose the right career?) As we emptied the bag full of rags into the above pictured box, we encountered several disturbing objects, namely surgical tape and a syringe.

?????

"Dad....where did you get those rags you're giving to Mom??"

And I am happy to report that my father is not, and never has been associated with doing drugs in the back alleys of Provo.

"At the Hospital...like always. We use them to soak up all the bloody guts and gore that spew out of patients during surgery."
ok maybe i exaggerated that a little bit but....

No wonder they are so absorbent.

GROSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

happy december 25th erryone.

2010-12-25T16:49:00.000-08:00

the only bad thing about wearing a christmas sweater is when your shoulder pad appears unexpectedly on the kitchen floor.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

18 months too long

2010-12-14T20:29:00.001-08:00

The moment has finally arrived.
Tomorrow morning I will be whisked off to Ecuador to pick up sister!!! She has been gone for the last 18 months serving a mission, and those of you who know me remotely well know that I have been quite a poor sport about it. Honestly it has been an amazing experience for all parties, but what am I supposed to do when my bffff is taken from me?
I've been thinking about the last 18 months and all that's happened, and it's kinda blowing my mind. I am so grateful for all the opportunities I've had and the people who have made them amazing. There have definitely been some hard times but definitely more great ones.
So weird to think that 18 months ago I...

hadn't started the creative track.

which means i didn't know these people.

hadn't lived in the candy shoppe

which means i hadn't lived at all

i had goggles

instead of laser vision

i drove this

not this

char char did not exist

and susie hadn't changed our lives

i hadn't met them

or him

or lived here.

I feel pretty good about the last 18 months. I think I'm going to feel even better about them tomorrow.

i'm so confused

2010-12-10T17:37:00.001-08:00

and a little scared.

withdrawals.

2010-12-06T23:58:00.000-08:00

today i really miss the flying nancys. why do people have to grow up?

zit patch: fail

2010-11-28T13:10:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I am a victim of delusion. I shall give you an example. is it ok to talk about zits online? ah well.
On Friday I started to feel an underground zit coming on. You know the ones that are massive, painful, and have a pulse of their own? Ugh.

So I found this in my drawer:

The "1-Hour Pimple Patch." Please notice that it is battery powered...? A combination of sheer desperation/curiosity came over me and I had to try it.

So, for the next few hours I lounged around with a giant white thing on my chin as the family made fun. Adults were amused, kids were confused.

Jack: "Rebbie, you have something on your chin."
Me: "I know Jack. You don't know now but someday when you're older, you'll get zits. Do you know what those are?"
Jack: (blank stare)
Me: "Well...it's when you get red things on your face that hurt real bad and injure your self confidence"
And little Jack ran away.

Suffice it to say that the Pimple Patch did not work as well as delusion made me think it would. Defeated, I removed it after the allotted hour and we went off to lunch. Whilst we were enjoying a delicious meal, brother in law Jeff noticed something white and ineffective on sister Amy's sleeve. Lo n' behold, THE ZIT PATCH, tagging along for lunch!!! Jeff's reaction? "Awesome. Now there's a zit on your shirt." But don't worry Aims, he's kidding. It's still residing safely on my face.

Lesson learned I guess, life's trials are never so easily resolved. I did just get a new thing of face wash though, and look what came with?

I'mma bring it with me next time I play Sports.

always be her baby.

2010-11-17T22:40:00.000-08:00

It has been quite the stressful few weeks, and I felt inspired to give a shout out to the one person who has been there for me through it all.

If this woman doesn't scream indomitable spirit and unfailing confidence, I don't know what does.

Remember Daydream? First CD I ever bought.

And how can we forget Rainbow? I have a feeling this was the last successful mainstream rainbow-wearing.

I remember driving to Lake Powell with all my cousins and dancing our hearts out. I still remember wanting to be my cousin Lisa and know every word, and I can say with pride that at least I have accomplished and maintained the last part of that goal. Yeah, it's like that ya'all.

Mariah has played a vital role in the woman I am today. Or at least the woman I am inside my head.

Mariah rocks windblown hair like no one else.

She can catfight herself and no one cares.

She changes body shape & size daily and we barely notice anymore.

She can marry a man 10 years her junior and get PREGNANT WITH HIS BABY!!! (yes, baby cannon is expected next spring)

She can be 40 years old without even realizing it.

She can write awful lyrics like, "you're a mom & pop, I'm a corporation, I'm the press conference, you're a conversation" and i'll still sing (shout) them from my shower or car.

Some may peg her confidence as delusional, but I find it inspiring. Mariah, we belong together. And all I want this November 17th is YOU.

IT'S MAGIC!

2010-11-07T16:34:00.000-08:00

just finished the latest crazy idea. thoughts?

I'm not one of those salad-eater girls.

2010-10-24T22:36:00.001-07:00

There are several important phases you go through as a woman and it seems the one I am now entering is the salad-eating phase. I've noticed that over the last few years more and more of my friends are ordering salads at dinner. I watch with befuddlement as they spend their precious pennies on feeble leafy greens. As my charming friend Holli so eloquently facebook statused: "You can't get full off salad."

It seems, however, that women of a certain age are socialized to think you can. Take Showers, for example. If you took a poll of every shower (baby, wedding, whatever) that has occurred in the last millennium, I am willing to stake my firstborn that three counterfeit food groups have been offered for consumption:
1-fruit
2-quiche
3-SALAD
("Salad" as a category technically encompasses anything from jello to potato, but i'm gonna stick with green for the purpose of this argument. Don't even get me started on quiche.)

The Shower, what I consider the essence of womanhood, consists of a bunch of ladies getting together eating a 'light' meal. Guys. Why are we doing this to ourselves? I am so fine admitting I eat normal stuff. Maybe it's just my last denial of adulthood, thinking I can eat real food and it won't affect me. Ughh. I've thought about what it would be like to utter the sentence: "I'll just have a salad, thank you. Dressing on the side." I'm just not sure I posses the willpower.

I remember one time being on a date with a guy who mentioned how he liked girls who ate real food and didn't just order a salad. BEST NEWS EVER! Of course I'm planning our wedding as I assure him I am not one of those fake girls, and order a steak or some other calorie-laden food.
He never called me again.

Here's the thing though, my lettuce aversion really isn't my fault, it's Zupa's. Yes, yes, I know you think I'm above it but at one (low) point at my life I was indeed a SALAD MASTER. This title is real, and I possessed it. I worked my tail off studying for the S.M. test.
"Let's see, Nuts About Berries has 6 cranberries, 4 strawberries, 3.5 blueberries and a child's fistful of candied almonds."
That was just the written portion.
The practical portion involved me whipping up all twelve salads in twelve minutes as my boss in vegetable pants looked on. Good thing Ratatouille was in my hat. (jk about that last part)
Can you blame me though? Now that you know my past?

I'd heard all these rumors about salads in fact having more fat than something like a cheeseburger and didn't believe it. I mean it just doesn't seem possible. So I looked it up. Namely CPK's Thai Crunch Salad. If you like this salad, or ever plan on eating it again, please do not read the statement below.
That pig in sheep's clothing has 35.9 grams of fat per serving. The serving size is half a salad.
Suckas!!!!!
Really though, I am deeply sorry to learn the truth as I myself have fallen victim to this salad. Never again though! Maybe.
I'm thinking the moral of the story is...eat carbs and be merry, for they taste better than plants.

THIS JUST IN!

2010-10-21T21:59:00.001-07:00

I was just informed by my fashionable friend SLOANE that regrowth is in.

Whaaaat??

My wallet has never been so happy, my hairstylist has never been so sad, I've never been so confused and the RECESSION HAS NEVER BEEN SO GOOD TO US!

twachelors

2010-10-13T22:21:00.000-07:00

I'm no Twitter expert. In fact sometimes I find myself tweeting 7 times in one day and then 7 times the whole next month. It's definitely a love/hate thing and I think the general public finds it frankly quite mystifying or simply pointless.

Butttt....

I have recently become aware of something quite alarming.

I do believe that the award for having the most followers for the stupidest reason goes to:

EVERY PERSON WHO'S EVER BEEN ON THE BACHELOR(ETTE).

(i know, i know i talk about this show a lot. i have no dignity.)

My first find was when my friend tweeted @ALIFEDOTOWSKY. Background pic is (what else?) she and Roberto hand in hand.

I mean...I guess I'm bitter that I had to earn my 162 followers by tweeting witty bits of 140 character goodness while she just gives @deannapappas and @designerjillian shoutouts about their next fashion show and has 55,580!!! Ugh.

( looks like being a 'helpless romantic' has done wonders for her television personality career)

I guess I thought it took some level of accomplishment or sophistication to garner over 30,000 followers. I mean, I hate to break it to you Ali, but falling in love with Roberto was in reality not that difficult of a task. In fact BILLIONS of girls did the same thing at home without even putting on makeup. Not to mention that one dress you wore that had the rhinestone choker.

Seriously though once you find one of these ex-bachelors in the twittersphere you can hansel and gretel your way to every other single one. Ever. They're like real, live, social network narcissist bffs!

One of my favorite finds was Tenley.

Curse the day my love life becomes part of my twitterbio! Bless her heart tho.

How presh are she and kip? I'm not even being completely sarcastic about this. So much niceness in one couple it's insane. But...

I won't say anything.

I feel sorry for people who have nothing better to do than this...

I guess incessantly blogging about the bachelor to prove you don't like it could fit under the same category. Dang it.

Just one more thing and i'm done. Brad Womack? Really?

happy birthday, you two.

2010-10-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

Should I be embarrassed that every October 11th I get nostalgic for these girls?
Pretty sure I still remember their handshake.
Pretty sure in 1998 Ellery modeled one of her outfits exactly after one of theirs.
Pretty sure they're in jail.

top bunk

2010-10-07T22:50:00.001-07:00

I am the mistress of the top bunk.
I wish I could say it was because I had some character-building childhood where I always had to share a room and had since developed a love for this particular sleeping arrangement. No, instead I waited until I was an adult and could pay for the chance to sleep at a higher altitude.

It all started my sophomore year when Betsy and I moved into this awesome place called Chandelle. We had this orphan room, seriously standing room only. So we thought long and hard--what would make it so we both could fit in here?
BUNK BEDS!

I thought I'd heard the top one was the better end of the deal, so I dibsed that real quick. I was smart too, cause the foot and a half of space between her mattress and mine was impossible to access without pulling a catherine-zeta-jones-in-entrapment move. Being the feisty individual that she is, Bets called her dad to come put dowels in between our beds. Good news for her, HEAD ON THE CEILING FOR ME. I literally could not sit on my bed without getting scoliosis. In order to get up there I had to fetch the hardware ladder out of my parents' garage and stick it in our room. Every time I climbed up, the whole structure shook so badly she either yelled at me in her sleep or woke up altogether.

The next semester we forced Brie and Ker to switch us rooms. They took the bunk beds apart. There was plenty of space in that stupid room.

Since then I have come to dominate the top bunk, in various locations all over the world. From New York, to London, to Paris, to Scotland, to right here in our very own Provo, Utah, I have graced it with my sleepy presence. All I can do is express my gratitude for the stellar bunkmates who have gotten me through these times.

In its defense, there's something adrenaline inducing about ninja climbing my way up to the top bunk while the roommate is asleep. I also find it strangely charming to be awakened with a jolt of gravity as I tumble down every morning. Life on the top has been good to me and I do believe I've grown rather attached to it. In fact, I'm not sure when it could possibly come to an end. Someone reminded me that maybe it will happen when i'm married? Maybe he'll have to deal with it.

hey there, mister.

2010-09-30T13:37:00.000-07:00

sneak peek. don't worry, i'll totally crop em or something with my photoshops.

another one bites the dust

2010-09-13T13:57:00.000-07:00

sometimes i feel weird about being the last of my graduating class who's still single. it's kind of like when i was the last to get asked to prom, only way worse.
but then i remember that once i got asked to prom, i got asked TWICE!! in one night!!!!
i'm not really sure how to interpret this, but i think it means there's a bright, double light at the end of the tunnel. or maybe just that i'm the next contestant on the MORMON BACHELORETTE.

gym rat.

2010-09-07T17:28:00.001-07:00

So I've decided to be super alt and admit that I love Gold's Gym. I mean if you think about it, where else can the brawny and brainless find acceptance and a lifelong career? I'm having serious serious regrets about not bringing my camera with me to work out, since the other day this sign was on the door:

"THEIR WILL NOT BE CLASS ON MONDAY DUE TO LABOR DAY."

Someone didn't learn there grammar.

I have this secret fantasy of teaching one of those classes though. I guess it's delusional to think I could fit in with that crowd but don't you think it'd be inspirational for people to follow someone with a realistic body type? At least it wouldn't build false expectations. I'm trying to think what would qualify me for that job...

There was that giggly girl who always wore spandex and a visor and had shiny skin. "Hehe... Great job ladies...work it out now, tehehe.."

Then there's Julie. 6 feet tall, booty shaking, nothing but muscle.

Then there's Rona. Ohhhh Rona. I think she's a she.

It seems that the ability to be bangin in spandex is imperative. While that may not describe me precisely, I feel I owe it to my progenitor to try it out.

Ever since I can remember my mother has awaken at the crack of dawn to teach step aerobics to a group of stalwart ladies at our church building. They use homemade wooden steps, carry 3 pound weights, and talk about gardening while doing repeaters and 6-count mambos. It's been her life goal to get me up for her class, and all three times i've been I must say it's pretty legit.

Butttt let's be honest there's no way I'm getting up at 5 am to burn a few calories and talk zinnias. Instead I've found another class with another group of 40-year-old women to attend. I'm not sure whether I work twice as young as them or if I'm just performing a middle-aged workout, but I love it. So much so that I've basically arranged my life schedule around it (ask my co-workers, they love waiting until 11 to have meetings.)

At this point I'm basically besties with these chicks, and I'm finding that once you go class you don't go back. How can I leave my safe haven and re-enter the open market now? That guy who always wears the full body unitard? Please tell me you've seen him. Petrifying.

Not to mention the trainers and their analogies:

"Do you know what going to the gym without a trainer is like? It's like your parents putting you in a library full of books instead of sending you to college."*

Yeah....since you went to college, eh? I mean I recognize i'm using this neck machine totally wrong, but for heavens sake I will kill you if you call me out right now.

Why is it that the most embarrassing things have to happen at the gym? As if the red face, b.o. and sweavage wasn't enough, that cardio cinema is a DEATH TRAP OF EXERCISE MACHINERY! One minute i'm watching Channing Tatum step it up, the next I'm pop lock & droppin off my treadmill and onto the ground behind me, in plain sight of that guy from my English class. Ugh.

Maybe I will pull out all the stops and try a Zumba class. Yeah, my middle aged lady posse might kill me for ditching them but hey, a girl's gotta burn what a girl's gotta burn. And if anyone feels like joining me ind what promises to be an entertaining evening filled with spandex and meatheads, do let me know.

*this is an exact quote quoted upon me several years ago. fortunately, i wasn't 18 and he couldn't legally ruin my day.

the consequence of boredom.

2010-08-31T19:34:00.001-07:00

as many of you know, i spend the large majority of my waking hours in the byu ad lab. as many of you don't know, our unofficial logo/mascot is this:

strange i guess but there you have it, a symbol of our infantile yet brilliant minds.
this one time i was really bored. and really tired of being really bored. and i had this idea and knew andy would be on board.

so we made a little present for our commander in chief jeff. it's our mascot, the lovechild of mr. laugenour and myself, and the embodiment of our unofficial motto: "IDEAS, BABY!"

isn't she beautiful?

digital pda

2010-08-26T16:57:00.000-07:00

let me preface this by saying that i am fully supportive of people being ridiculously, senselessly, giddily in love...

i'm just not sure how much more of this i can take :);):D!!!

call me 22 and SiNgLe, but do you have to share your love for each other via the internet??

haha it's like sooo weird :) how we can't just tell each other in person!!!

srsly, i think i might DIE if i see one more sappy wall post :):):) :D!!

and like, i'm just wondering if you have :D his phone number so you could :):) call him and tell him you love him?!?! :)

....as long as it takes place OFF the internet.

splurged.

2010-08-10T18:31:00.000-07:00

Welp, i splurged. And what a lovely week it was.

Just had to report on a few things I did in case anyone is in nyc and needs something to splurge on.

First, if you or any part of you enjoys jazz, you MUST go see some at VILLAGE VANGUARD in the West village.

I'm not sure what it is about jazz...I really don't know the first thing about it, but it kind of makes me purr. I was always being accused of being a closet jazz pianist by my fellow Flying Nancys. I think maybe I like it because when I listen to it, I imagine myself looking like this.

Anyway, the place is legit, bunch of old dudes, one of whom wore this red silk shirt and closed his eyes every time he touched his sax. Only $20 bucks if you're a student. GO!

Second thing was seeing MEMPHIS. I stood in line to get student tickets three days in a row and finally got em. My dear friend Charlotte and I went and were on the absolute first row of the theater, aka underneath the orchestra pit.

(she doesn't usually look drunk. haha)

We were thoroughly damp with their sweat and spit by the end, but it was so worth it. To give you an idea of how awkwardly close I was, here is a pic I snuck at the end. We stood up to applaud and my nose was in this guy's knee caps. Weird.

My (favorite) calorie splurge came in the form of ALICE'S TEACUP for brunch. The place is amazing, they do birthday parties for little girls with dressups and everything. You must eat the pumpkin scones. Don't ask me why I didn't take a picture, but I went with three lovely ladies who I adore.

My roomies had a little fiesta on our rooftop on the last night I was in town and it was so great. Ellie even wore her denim jumpsuit for me, courtesy of the Brooklyn Flea--another thing you must splurge on if you are in the area.

Sad to think I won't see these people for a while. Chad is going to miss me so much. Can't you see it on his face?

Lest you think my life is all fun and food, delta made my flight out an absolute nightmare. They charged me $115 DOLLARS to check my overweight bag, which might I add was overweight when I left and Jet Blue didn't say a word. Our 7 pm flight was delayed until 12:20 am...then 1:40 am...then 2:30 am. Blah!!!! I don't think I have ever been so helplessly furious.

So now I'm home, and it is strange. Silent. Can't decide if it's peaceful or isolated. It has been so lovely to see people and I have been strangely really busy. And sick. And exhausted. Today it's off to Bear Lake with the whole fam and the babies!!! I really can't complain but I think I'd like to just sit in my bed for a day. And I'm sorry for this boring post but I felt like nyc deserved one last shout out.

As for the Etta James...she has been the soundtrack of my summer. I'd give anything for those pipes!

the end is near.

2010-07-26T10:06:00.000-07:00

I have officially entered my last week here in the nyc. It's been a swarm of very mixed emotions and i'm guessing it will only get worse.

I'm constantly debating whether to splurge or to save. Someone help me rationalize choosing the former.

I made a bucket list of things I wanted to do before I left, then realized 98% of them had to do with food. Not surprising but still, semi embarrassing. So...if anyone has any other, low-cal, wallet-friendly suggestions, send them my way.

If you had a week in this city, what would you do?

Above the Influence (Of charming Brits)

2010-07-13T09:09:00.000-07:00

I’m sick of British accents. I’m sick of them being instantly funny, instantly charming, instantly sophisticated, and instantly hired.

Here’s what I don’t get. Didn’t we kick them out? And now they hop back across the pond, utter one word of their “pure” English and all we can do is swoon. I don’t even mean a romantic comedy sort of swoon. It is my humble opinion that the most platonic and non attraction-based of swoons is un American. And that they need to stop.

The following is an eclectic group of Brits I have previously been seduced by. R.I.P. friends and lovers!! Consider this your eulogy.

I’ve witnessed first hand the measurable difference between my English and British English. There is this one person who went to school with me, who is British, and is most definitely the darling of the byu ad program…not to mention everything else he does. One day, we (he) convinced our professor to order pizza for a group meeting we were having. I order the pizza, from Brick Oven, 25 feet from the Brimhall and they told me it would be an hour and a half before they could get it to us. He, of course, was incensed that anyone would dare keep us hungry for that long!! He asked me to call them back to complain but I had a better idea—YOU CALL THEM BACK. Sure enough, what did they say? We’ll get your pizza in 15 minutes.

Swoon.

There is a man who might work where I work. He’s new. And he is a tall, parted-haired, dreamboat of a Brit. I’ve overheard multiple conversations by multiple groups of females on multiple floors in his behalf. One of my friends got stuck alone with him on the elevator. She tried to talk to him but said she couldn’t understand what he was saying. I’m not sure if this is due to swoon-induced hearing loss but I thought it was semi ridiculous. I mean…we do still speak the same language right? It made me think of that one time there was a British man on the Bachelorette and they put subtitles on every time he spoke. Where is our dignity, women??! Do we speak English or not?!?? Anyway. I keep seeing him in the halls and I’m pretty sure he wants to date me. We had a meeting with him the other day and yeahhhh. Post-meeting I caught two of my middle-aged co-workers looking him up on our company website. After a 20 minute debate we finally decided it was too soon to add him on Facebook.

Giant. Pathetic. Swoon.

My friends and I have considered starting an accent immersion program so that decent, hardworking Americans like us can find work in our native land. Better yet, what if we move somewhere else? To London? Do they find our accents as charming as we find theirs? My four, boy-drought months there makes me think no, but I asked yahoo anyway:

(straight from the mouth of a Brit!!!)

“Hmmmm... difficult question.

I think for me it depends on the accent. I may be more surrounded by Americans than the average Briton so I think a lot of the novelty has worn away. Some US girls have seriously sexy accents, but there are some that make you want to wince. The compulsion of some of my US friends to overshare and talk loudly in public places makes me feel somewhat embarressed sometimes!

Southern states accents do nothing for me, but then I do have a friend from Florida and her accent is awesome.

But to be fair, there's plenty of accents here in the UK you never hear on films and tv that are so annoying they would make you feel like your ears were falling out so it's swings and roundabouts.”

A) Is that the English spelling of embarrassed?

B) Swings and roundabouts? Ugh, even their useless sayings are charming.

C) At least in America we aren’t afraid to have a public voice. I happen to think the overweight man yelling at everyone on the subway last night was an inspiring show of democracy.

D) Can someone tell me how to do a Florida accent?

In reality, I don’t think there’s much hope of competing with our charismatic allies from the motherland. For now all I can do is hold on to my pride, keep my head high, and try to keep from swooning. Because as Edgemont Elementary taught me, there ain’t no doubt I love this land—God bless the United States of American English.

The surprise kiss: fact or fiction?

2010-06-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s rampant in Hollywood, and isn’t even confined to Nicholas Sparks’ romantic tragedies. Attractive protagonist A decides, after days, months, or even years of yearning, to suddenly and unexpectedly kiss protagonist B. SURPRISE!!! Yes, my friends, this post serves to discover whether the surprise kiss exists in real life, or whether it is only a figment of every female (and/or male)’s infatuation.

I thought about pretending I hadn’t imagined myself surprise kissing someone. But then I realized that if 93% of Hollywood’s producers are building it into their films, I can’t be alone in my wishful kissing, can I? Someone back me up here.

So I wonder, what makes the s.k. so alluring? Obvious answers include attraction, suspense, best friends turned lovers, etc. but I think a bigger part of it is the 'fascination with the abomination.' Simply put, it is the weirdness in me that is so curious exactly WHAT would happen if I, say…did a running leap through the library, that I have to physically hold myself back from doing it. What would be the aftermath of the s.k.? The sheer potential awkwardness is sickeningly captivating. (Now is the point where you stop reading my blog because I’m insane. No hard feelings.)

Something else I wonder--which would you rather be, the kisser or the kissee? Here are a few case studies of my favorites and/or recent watches.

Possibly the most INFAMOUS of the surprise kisses. Mutually instigated. Result of some serious sexual tension.

The copy kiss. Instigated by her. Result of her liking him (sometimes).

(Don't ask me where the google got this picture, but i recently watched 27 dresses so it was on my mind.)

The bar kiss. Instigated by him. Result of drunkenness allowing him to finally confess his love.

I can’t decide if it’s more a man’s fascination or a woman’s. Experience leaves me torn. On one hand you have those lazy guys who are like, “yeah! girls should totally be forward!” and on the other those traditional ones who won’t ask you out but say, “no way, if a guy likes a girl he'll do something about it.” Maybe that didn't relate. Maybe it was a bitter tangent...ha.

I think the time I came closest to becoming a surprisekisser was in Paris, atop the Eiffel Tower. Loneliness was surely to blame here, as I was living in a state of near nunnery among 40 girls and one man. The city of love was too much to take, and ten girls spent a good twenty minutes chickening out of the challenge to grab an attractive euroman and smooch him. I descended the tower with my dignity intact but my Italian grandchildren forever unborn. Would I change it if I could go back? Yeahhh… ok no way I’m a wuss.

In closing, I would like to point out that the soundtrack to this post, In My Place by Coldplay, is no coincidence. Wouldn't it be the perfect backdrop to a surprise kiss?? So epic. Just try it, I double dare you. Start the song over and imagine two hotties of your choice, standing face to face and slightly breathless. They stand for a minute, wordless, then one rushes up, facegrabs, and there you go. Slow motion is optional from here on out. Bet you’ve never experienced INTERACTIVE BLOGGING before! I guess sitting next to Lars is rubbing off on me.

On that note, I hope everyone knows I am not as obsessed with kissing as this post is making me seem. Yikes. Consider it more my expression of something I’ve secretly wanted but will NEVER in a million years do. We all have dreams right? Yours might be skydiving. Mine is s.k.ing. Anyway, if anyone has a story of a surprise kiss, whether a success or a fail, advice on how to pull one off, your favorite s.k., etc. I must hear!!!

if only...

2010-05-26T21:56:00.000-07:00

i had a cool camera and the ability to make my life look cool with it.
if only...i were KYLIE NIXON.
from here on out, i will be referring you to her blog to find out what life is like here in the 10027. or at least what food there is to eat here. many thanks ky.

creative maintenance here at the i-house.

2010-05-16T12:28:00.000-07:00

so i mentioned the other day that my window shattered, but was hastily repaired. "repaired" turned out to be a loose term, as my window still didn't shut all the way, resulting in a significant draftiness in my room. pretty refreshing until one night when it was freeeeeeezing and rainy. after hours of not being able to sleep, i finally came up with the genius solution of stuffing all my books and journals into the window crack. the next morning i talked to the front desk about the problem, got a space heater and filled out another repair ticket. later that day i got back to my room and this is what i found:

with the accompanying note:

"removable tape. place on the window until weather gets better."

....?

i'm just glad they didn't use that permanent tape, then the problem really would've been solved. anyway, this little episode made my day.

have i mentioned that i love it here? maybe someday i'll blog about all the good things that happen to me. for now let's keep it interesting though eh? happy sabbath to all.

FREE MEAL!!!

2010-05-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

so i am learning out in the real world that it is indeed strange, or i guess i should say peculiar, that mormons don't drink. what i have also learned is that we are really good at replacing drinking with its chubby friend, EATING. suffice it to say that a large portion of my time (and money) here has been spent on this. every day we ask each other, "where are we going to eat tonight?" ("eat" is most always a euphemism for "something that will give us an excuse to get dessert") but i am tired of this habit making me poor. i am tired of paying for food.

which led me to think about the phenomena of FREE MEALS. if you think about it, the only reason we really work is so we can eat. I mean vacations and movies are fun but at the heart of it all is this terrible, persistent need to feed ourselves. i'm not one of those nauseating people who says, "oh, i just get so busy that i forget to eat!" call me fat but i don't buy that for a second. you forget that your stomach is gnawing itself into a size 2? just tell me you're dieting, i respect that. because for me, if i am not fed i am not happy. i do not function. i am weak and my brain stops functioning. (ask my partner ryan. hahaha) as i sit here writing this, i wonder when i can sneak away to the cafe to get a sandwich.

because really, being hungry is just...what's the word? poor. i believe that the people who have truly made it in life rarely, if ever, have to pay for their meals. i see two main groups of people who fit into this category. (note: you must be post-adolescent in order to be considered)

#1: the adored

the adored is, yes, a woman. she will first eat for free because her mother loves her, then because daters love her, then because her breadwinner lives up to his title. her most basic need is the lucky beneficiary of our cultural practice of 'getting something to eat' with her male counterpart, the adorer. here you see a sort of dating-darwinism that propels the adored to the top of the life chain. because she never has to pay for food, she never has to dip in to her funds, leaving more resources available for things like eyelash extensions and gym passes. more importantly though, she never has to dip into the emotional well of hunger, of eating a stale pbj she brought in a reused ziploc bag in the depths of the library. not that i have done that. never depleting this well will also add years and sexiness to her life.

#2: the feared

the feared is the ceo. or cmo. or canythingo. after years of learning what it felt like to have his own hunger shmoozed away, he can now afford to throw his food around. he buys lunch for the office. only every once in a while though, and most often when a client is in. he shrugs off the bill, and by doing so instills fear and reverence on the part of his employees, who for the most part cart their spousemade lunch to work. they are forever indebted to the fact that he is independently not hungry and is willing to share his good favor. he is, nine times out of ten, married to the adored.

i am annoyed at these people. i'm trying to work out a way to become one of them.

had i taken pictures of all the food i have experienced here this post would probably be more interesting. also more alarming. last night at the one show design fest i got my first free "meal" in the nyc!!! it consisted of cold quiche and seared tuna and you better believe i choked down every bit of it. anyhow, i am now on a quest to eat cheaply, and maybe even for free??? we will see how that goes. my goal recently took me to wendy's, so you know, slummin it. nbd.

in closing, i would like to declare this post my official diatribe towards all the free eaters out there, from the adored to the feared to the person i hate at cafe rio when all the employees yell "FREE MEAL!!!"

concrete jungle

2010-04-29T20:30:00.000-07:00

me ky & kel red eyeing it out to the n.y.c. thank you jet blue.

so i live in new york apparently. it has been a strange past week and the fact that i don't know exactly how long i will be here doesn't necessarily help my sense of what's going on. anyway, i thought i would give a brief update on my few days in the big apple.

a few weeks ago i found out i wouldn't be starting my actual internship until may 3rd, but the fact that i already had airfare meant i had a week to do nothing. or everything, depending on how you want to look at it. it has been real fun but i'm getting realll antsy. every day my friends come home and tell me how their days were and i start PSYCHING MYSELF OUT. yarg. also, this place is expensive. the fact that our first trip out of our home found us at anthropologie would suggest that we aren't doing much to help ourselves avoid temptation... just have to get it out of my system though right? so far it's been gotten out on a lot of delicious food, museums, and bookstores. central park is the gloriously free exception. it's been a great week in the city and soon enough i will be a hard working woman again.

so here is my home. welcome to the Ihouse, where no one speaks english!!! i was just glad to know it wasn't the iHouse.

in reality the "i" stands for "international." it's located in harlem, or if you're talking to your parents, "morningside heights." we had one interesting experience getting off at the wrong subway stop. i was just grateful it was daylight and i was with men. ben turned to me and asked how i liked being the minority for once. i guess there aren't many other mormons who live in harlem...

anyway, lots of columbia students live here and most everyone is from some crazy place. the first day alone i met someone from cameroon, (i swear that's a place right?) azerbaijan and iraq. some of the other cougars are not fans but i'm borderline obsessed with this place. it sometimes smells like a hostel and the bedrooms are TINY.

at one point i attempted to touch both walls with my legs whilst sitting on my bed. i can't make it quite to the wall, but i can touch the dresser. i think that should count. my window has already been windblown into my room and SHATTERED all over everything but they cleaned it up in a few hours while i was in times square. so what can i complain about?

oh the blanket. so one of the blankets they gave me looks like someone skinned an ewok.

see. super close up. it has shards of the forest lodged in it.

but they gave me another pretty one to use. i use the brown one to do situps on since i can't go to the fitness center here yet. another long story. but ohhhh! i got a mini fridge for my room the other day so i can maintain a healthy weight gain.

there is this gorgeous park right next to us, as well as a cathedral.

also, ulysses s. grant anyone? his tomb is about 15 seconds to the right of my front door. one of those things you never thought you'd say.

my bathroom. communal, but nice.

the people who live here are so great. seriously the nicest, friendliest roomiez i could ask for. we have a dining room in the bottom that has surprisingly good food, a lounge and even a pub. (you know, international for 'restaurant.')

so it's great! so far.
it's different being here this time. i think the way you see this place changes depending on why you're here. i'm not trying to act like i'm a local because i'm not. but on the subway all i see now is work. people here just work and work and WORK. some because it's the only way they can survive, some so they can prove they deserve a job, some because their wife has to keep shopping on 5th ave. i've ALWAYS dreamed of living here. it seems like such a glamorous thing to do, thank you sara jessica parker and jen aniston. but i think our blinders are being removed.

the energy here is amazing. it's also exhausting. the job opportunities here are overwhelming. they also take every minute of your life. i think every one of us would tell you we don't know exactly why we love doing what we do, or how we ended up here. every person i talk to who's in advertising or knows someone else who is tries to warn me that we work long hours. but guess what. so do doctors. and finance guys. and the doorman who stands in the bottom of your building all night.

so good thing i like what i'm doing right? let's hope i can say that tomorrow...ha.

i have no idea where i'll end up. but for now i feel so lucky i get to try out this whole manhattan thing. here goes nothing.

we get it.

2010-04-21T22:33:00.000-07:00

so many things i could say. most of them including fake leis and roxy stickers. for now i will keep it simple-i'm not a fan of car graffiti.

today i really miss her.

2010-04-12T21:43:00.000-07:00

shellers attempting to juggle when we were in spain. just found this at my parent's house. i am sad.

pants?

2010-04-09T20:18:00.000-07:00

so lately i've been faced with what i would consider a minor moral dilemma. it can be summed up in one little word-LEGGINGS. i feel invincible when i wear them them, almost like i'm wearing nothing at all. but some see leggings as the next threat to mormon modesty, the spaghetti-strap tank of the 2000's.

so i got real letter of the law one day and consulted my dictionary widget, where leggings are defined as: "tight-fitting stretch PANTS worn by women and children."

ok, so kids wear them. but hey. the dictionary said they were PANTS!! the freakin dictionarayy.
after reading this i was empowered to wear my leggings out of the house. then i got to campus, where suddenly i felt as though i was jogging by my bishop's house in booty shorts and a tank top. judging stares and guilty conscience!!! yuggg.

immodesty is not my goal in wearing leggings, i swear. but i, like all of you, purchased these boots from target this year.

anyone want to share how you stuff your jeans in these babies? i took my method from the lovely kellee cook. you start with tube socks. put sock halfway on. roll up jeans. fold pant leg over, creating a 'peg effect.' finish putting on sock over jeans, securing the peg in place.

unfortunately, the only socks i own that are long enough to do this with are either neon and fuzzy or holiday themed. gets realll awkward when you have to take off your shoes at a party in march and you're wearing bright orange socks with embroidered witches on them.

in general i have avoided wearing leggings in favor of the pant-pegging, so as to avoid this dilemma altogether. but one night i went to salt lake to hang out with some heretics from the U and felt like a downright SCHOOLTEACHER. (not that i don't have hot schoolteacher friends.) i kid you not EVERY girl there was sporting leggings. they didn't even have long shirts!!! i hate those moments when i cannot deny that i live in a bubble.

my mother experienced some similar legging-wearers.
"they just wore leggings!! just...leggings and a shirt!"
"yeah, mom. people wear that."
"just leggings? tight, on their buns? i could see..." (descriptive hand gesture)
"yes mom."

of course, leggings aren't the only name by which this 8th deadly sin is known. there's the occasional stuck-in-the-80's title, leggins (lay-gn's), stretch pants, yoga pants, or my new favorite, JEGGINGS!

ladies and jentlemen, i give you THE JEGGING.

mmm anorexia never looked so good.

can't we call them something else? leans? spandings? pights? either way, these things are the rationalization that will solve all my woes!!! right?? tight as leggings with jean-like features! the problem is, i had this one dance costume, which somehow didn't make this post, that was black dance pants with denim-esque rhinestone "pockets" on them. i thought they were so hot. i think i even showed up to a social gathering straight after rehearsal 'on accident' one time but i can't be sure. one of those memories i've tried to tamper with, horace slughorn style.

anyway, i cannot decide which direction my moral compass is pointing. if anyone has an opinions or solution to the question of what 'pants' truly means, i implore your advice. thank you.

unbelievable. UNBELIEVABLE!!

2010-03-17T10:42:00.000-07:00

my friend just showed me this. it's the 'about me' section from this guy's facebook page who she served her mission with. i thought he was joking and really liked him...and then she told me he was serious. i am speechless.

My Name is Bradley Rutherford (name changed in case he tries to sue me). I Returned from Barcelona, Spain (also changed in case of legal ramifications) after serving a 2 year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in January 2010. Because such an esoteric and life altering change took place while I was out and about on what I consider to be a very meritorious mission, I apologize if I seem abstruse to those who have known me for years. When I first left for Ohio 2 years ago I left behind an ignominious and rancorous lifestyle. I wasnt what one would consifer "Stalwart." However, as many a missionary does, I "found myself" and learned that who I am and who I could be is far more important then who I was and used to be. I enjoy spontaneity. I live for adventures. Some might consider my style pretentious, I just simply enjoy having fun and doing things that are only dreamed of. I don't accept No as a possibility. If i want to do something i will make sure it is done. I enjoy a life of appreciated sophistication and class not a life boasting meretricious crassitude. I enjoy spending time on my Steinway and driving to secret places and exemplary eating establishments up in the mountains. I now, contrary to my past eccentricities, consider myself numinous. I love and try to live my religion regardless of all the disadvantageous and precarious positions i inadvertently find myself in. I am relaxed, patient, and a heavy-hearted romantic. I enjoy showing others how to have the night of their life without indulging in sordid and salacious entertainment. I love who I am, because I am learning more about who I am and to where I will be able to take myself. I plan on being successful and marketable and look forward to sharing a prominent future with those I love.

thesaurus.com anyone??

sisterfriend

2010-03-07T21:15:00.000-08:00

so sometimes when you date people there are expectations you will get to know their family. this can be an awkward situation for all involved, but i find it particularly disconcerting for one reason.

i do my best to find out as much as possible before the actual meeting takes place, but this phrase is especially comforting:
"it's weird but i look nothing like the rest of my siblings!!"

because who hasn't finally met the guy's mom, dad, aunts and uncles, all great people and then you meet his sister. who looks EXACTLY LIKE HIM! gahhhh. suddenly everything you thought you were attracted to makes you question your sexual orientation. not a fan.

it's not that i don't love meeting new girl friends. i just don't enjoy the confusion that comes when i'm looking into my lover's eyes and there she is. talk about an invasion of privacy.

i might be able to make an exception if it were him and her

but him and her...

wait i forget nikki is a woman. i'm still not convinced...?

anyway, i guess i should get over this little issue i have. especially after tonight's lecture from my father about how my expectations are too high. but is it that complicated? all i'm asking is for that one little sentence. i won't even ask for him to have a normal last name...

it's official.

2010-02-26T17:50:00.000-08:00

two months from today i will be an indentured servant of the lovely OGILVY & MATHER. i feel incredibly lucky to be going to such an amazing agency. thank you thank you to my amazing professors who work so hard to get us in these places!

i found some pictures on the interweb, at least i think this is the right office. they just moved to a new building so i'm not sure. probably won't look like this from my intern desk anyway but hey, i can dream.

how amazing is that? i go between being nervous and excited out of my brain. either way, these next two months need to fly by...

p.s. our levi's commercial won a silver addy the other night! so exciting. we got all cocktail-ified and piled in two huge vans to go up to the gala in salt lake. we ate all sorts of rich food and drank sprite from the open bar. it was great :) pictures possibly to come.

the man behind the mctwist.

2010-02-20T16:19:00.000-08:00

what sometimes happens when you are poor is that you can't pay for cable television. this is a sacrifice i barely notice i'm making, until of course it's OLYMPICS TIME. bahhh.

i'm just grateful for a little thing called the internet. because of this, i can now read about everything after it happens. because who wants to waste time watching in real time right??

when i heard about shaun white's "spectacular gold medal run," of course i start youtubing the heck out of him. to my dismay, nbc is being quite catty about it's footage ownership and there was basically NOTHING to be found. i did, however, find fragments of this 'double mctwist' trick that has gathered so much hype. 3 hours later, i emerged with a newfound knowledge of the man. (thank you wikipedia).

first things first though, i know we've all thought it but how much exactly is mcdonald's paying for this 'mctwist?' i can just hear it: (insert cheesy young male ad voice) "when it comes to your breakfast, go for the gold!! eat breakfast the SHAUN WHITE way. now for a limited time only, get your hot and steamy double mctwist. only at mcdonald's"

second of all...can i admit that i'm slightly...dare i say it...attracted to the man?

(back me up sarah, quick!!!)

can you blame me? i mean what sensible woman doesn't love a 5 foot 3 red headed man?

ok wait. maybe attracted isn't the right word. am i....fascinated? intrigued...? ...mystified?

maybe it's because, as my friend jake accused the other day, i find him 'socially useful.' i guess he would be socially useful, if i were 5 feet tall and had put on snow gear in the past 5 years.

or if i were...pam anderson?

i'm confused.

anyway, i believe i deserve the right to enjoy a man with some hair i can put my fingers through, be it whatever color it may.

on a more selfless note, i hope that the double mctwister 12746 can do good things for redhead's rights. it's about time they got someone in the limelight, geez.

it seems that my understanding of their species is increasing by the day. my beauuuutiful red headed roommate mary jane informed me the other day that when two redheads are walking, supposedly they make a special kind of eye contact. i guess it's one of those "we're the only ones who understand" things. i feel like maybe their eyes change color or shape too. anyway, next time you see two redheads pass each other, know that there is more happening than meets the eye.

so i guess what i'm trying to say is, go america, go redheads, go nbc. the olympics truly are some of the most goosebumpish times of my life. i hope you all enjoy vancouver 2010 and let me know how it goes.

baby susie allen

2010-02-11T21:18:00.000-08:00

i'm not sure exactly how to start this...i know a lot of you have been aware of baby susie's story but i thought i would fill in some of the missing details.

my oldest sister has been pregnant, due sometime mid-march. in november as i was sitting on the beach in florida like the slacker i wish i was, i got a phone call from her telling me their baby had complications and wouldn't end up living through the pregnancy. the baby didn't have kidneys, which created a few problems with the baby's lungs and heart. there also was no amniotic fluid, which meant they couldn't tell what gender the baby was. after the initial disbelief, my sister and her family began preparing for the upcoming months, not exactly sure what they would bring. it was incredible to watch them gain a new perspective on life and the plan of salvation.

on february 6th, i got a phone call saying my sister was in the hospital, dilated to a 3 and having steady contractions. at this point my parents were in hawaii, i was the only member of my family within hundreds of miles and my blasted portfolio was flying off to nyc in 36 HOURS. of course i rushed over to the hospital and got there just in time to see my beautiful sister before they delivered the baby via c-section.

the nurse suited me up and let me come into the OR right after SHE was born!! they gave her oxygen and we brought her in to meet her mama. i can't express what a beautiful time it was so at this point i'll leave it up to the pictures.

me and sister

pinky fingernail is always the best

oh hey, i look 12 when my make-up has been cried off

tiny 4 lb susie. so pretty and so small.

dad and susie

giving her a name and a blessing

susie with older sister sadie.

as expected, my parents were devastated to miss the 3 incredible hours we spent with their granddaughter (who was named after my mother). but thanks to technology they were able to hear her little noises through the phone and to see her on HD video! so amazing. we also got to talk to michelley bells on the mission in ecuador. it's nice to have a father-in-law who works for the missionary department :) (i may attempt abusing that privilege every time i see him from here on out) more importantly, all the allen children were able to meet their baby sister and hold her and love her.

we held funeral services for susie yesterday. thank you thank you to everyone who showed up or gave your love or prayers on any level. i assure you they were felt. at times like this there is nothing to be felt but gratitude for the perspective the gospel brings. i am in awe of the peace my sister and her family have felt through the whole process. of course there will be mourning ahead. it would be absurd to think there wouldn't. but it's also been an incredible experience for my family. wonderful to see the church members extend their ridiculously expansive arms and embrace any and all who were affected. how blessed are we to be a part of this, honestly?

speaking of blessings. i have no idea why i was the one who got to be there with my sister. but it is a memory i will keep in my heart forever. i am profoundly grateful i was able to share that with her. thank you again to everyone for your kindness. thank you to my roomies for the beautiful flowers. thank you to everyone in room 140 brmb for not asking why i've been the way i've been lately :) thank you byu bookstore for the 8 lbs of chocolate covered cinnamon bears i've consumed in the last two weeks.

it's amazing how sad life can be and yet we still can be happy. i'm not sure why honestly. or how. but i know great faith goes a long way.

thank you for listening to me be optimistic. by next post the cynicism will possibly have returned. also. rebbiegroesbeck.com remains a nightmare. sometimes your website has to take a backseat on the priority list.

REBBIEGROESBECK.COM

2010-02-04T12:05:00.001-08:00

hello friends!
so a momentous occasion occurred in my life recently. no it doesn't have to do with marriage or children, but it is equally exciting in my world.
rebbiegroesbeck.com now exists! currently it looks like something a cleaning company owned by immigrants would use but hey, i'm working on it. just had to share the excitement. my really stuff should be up by monday. prayers that i will live until that time would be appreciated.
loves!!!

on the wings of love!!!

2010-01-04T22:08:00.000-08:00

if my career as a copywriter ever ends in me writing taglines like the title of this post, please shoot me.

I AM IN SHOCK. i am in awe, and in somewhat of a state of despair at what i apparently have to do in order to find myself a nice, strapping young bachelor.
in the picture below i find 7 counts of fried blond extensions, at least 12 chest-related plastic surgeries, 1 really bad dancer and 1 cambodian dirty-talker.

these poor girls!! i mean really, there's no chance they've had trouble getting men in the past is there? with cleavage like that, i believe i would be capable of great things. but let's not forget who they are competing for...

k fine he's beautiful.

the "perfect" guy, every girl dreams of. except, of course, those of us who like people with personalities. weird.
here is a direct jake quote:

"I love salsa dancing. Country dancing on a Thursday night in Dallas is really fun, too. (wait, i swear i've seen him at that place across from ozz...or maybe studio 600?) I enjoy working with my hands, creating or building something, landscaping and doing garden work. Even if a woman didn't enjoy doing the things that I do, I would want her to be a part of them because I love them so much."

indeed you must love them jake! in fact, i believe we saw you lumberjacking around shirtless in some back country vineyard for hours tonight. what a coincidence. i appreciate his purity, i really do. i just...might tear him to shreds.

so if you're interested in learning more about him, such as the fact that he played a young chuck norris in WTR, you can visit the ULTIMATE fan site at jakepavelka.net

as for me, i think i'll do my best to swear off this season and satisfy myself by dreamily scribbling 'rebbie pavelka' in my notebooks.