A little reminder

So, lately I have seen overalls popping up here and there on fashion-type blogs. I am being serious when I say this is one trend I can NEVER, ever subscribe to. And to remind myself of that, here is a list of why:

1. I have a picture of myself, on the first day of second grade, wearing the following combination: Green sunflower print overalls, scrunch socks, patchwork quilt Converses (as horrible as you are imagining) and a neon colored backpack. One side of my overalls is unbuckled, telling my classmates that I was much too cool to bother fastening both sides. I should never be allowed to even utter the word ‘fashion’ again.

2. When I was in fourth grade I wore a sassy white pair of overalls to school. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was at lunch contemplating how I was going to avoid grass stains and playground dirt (a. stand by a portable with the cools girls talking about how hot Jonathan Taylor Thomas was or b. play kickball and sneak to the back of the line over and over so I would never actually have to play) when I dropped an entire carton of chocolate milk on my lap. I had to waddle to the office with drippy chocolate milk pants and call my mom, crying hysterically, and ask her to bring me new clothes. Traumatizing.

3. Buried deep in a box at my parent’s house is a photo of me in a dressing room stall wearing overalls with an embroidered Eeyore on them, circa 1999. Next to it is a picture of Ali wearing the same thing. Maybe we were joking, but probably deep inside we actually wanted to own these items of clothing. As I look at that girl, with gigantic eyebrows and white sparkle eyeshadow, I know that to own overalls now would be to unleash that inner 12-year-old. No thanks.

4. A problem I have run into with my recent romper addiction is how unnaturally long my torso is. My solution for this as a young overall-wearing child was to adjust the straps to make them as long as possible. That presented a whole new conundrum because not only did it look stupid, but now I had a gaping patch of skin on the side where my shirt was not long enough. The solution? A bodysuit. Please tell me you remember those. Well, things went from bad to worse when one day in second grade the snaps holding it in place began to come undone as I sat in class. I could see it going very badly, so I casually slipped my hand down to try and fix it. As I struggled, my teacher looked over at me, hand down my pants, and asked if I was okay. Seriously mortifying for a little girl.

I could go on, seriously, but this is dredging up some painful memories. I think I have sufficiently made my point.

bike bike bike

you guys, I have a bike. Dreams are coming true this summer.

It all began when I was at my parents house. I was out in the garage spying on my little brother who was practicing ninja rolls in the front yard*. Just as I was considering how to get him on a reality show, I looked up and there, in the rafters, were two bikes.

These bikes have been in my life since 1987, silently hanging in garages, but never before had they looked so full of promise and joy. Fast-forward, we fixed the tires, cleaned it and now I can awkwardly cruise around Salt Lake like a little bird. A little bird with a sore butt. Who maybe looks really out of shape breathing heavily up small inclines.

Bike!


*Shortly after the ninja roll, I watched him throw a football at a rock only to have it bounce back and hit him in the face. Completely unaware anyone was watching.

me, me, me

Blogging in hopes it will take up some time, not because I have anything special to write.

Why is it that as soon as I open this little window my brain is automatically starts churning out either a.) a list of things I want (a bike with a basket and a haircut, please) or b.) a list of things I am worried about (not failing political statistics and not failing political statistics, please God let me graduate.)

Thanks brain, but I am not even going to go there. Instead, I am going to make a list of things I like and am happy about to counteract the crippling depression creeping in brought on by the snow outside.

1. An expanding record collection. I discovered the most amazing record store and with David have bought approximately 20 records in the past two weeks including the Breakfast at Tiffanys soundtrack and Captain and Tennille's greatest hits for when I need a laugh. It's addicting. Currently a life goal I have set for myself is owning "Rocky Raccoon" on vinyl, so if anyone sees a White album floating around please let me know.

2. Gchat. Small, discreet wonderful gchat on which I can lust over KSL listings and be entertained by friends allllll day long. Also related, RSS feeds which enable me to stalk allllll day long.

3. Target. I could write sonnets to Target. I adore Target and I am pretty sure I venture there once a week. It is like my Tiffanys in "Breakfast at Tiffanys." Breakfast at Target. I once got lotion for $.40. Oh also I am becoming a hoarder because of Target, so there's that. I have like five bottles of shampoo in my closet.

4. Betos tortillas. I found out you can just buy singular tortillas at Betos. It was a good day as I sat there double-fisting plain tortillas in my car.

5. New pillows. For my bed. I am like Goldilocks about pillows and they are ALWAYS too thin or too puffy or too hard or too soft. But I am happy to report I have found a wonderful pillow and each night as I set my weary head on it I think to myself, "Just right."

6. The eternal quest for the perfect brown oxfords. This one is kind of annoying, but gives purpose to my life. So far I have gotten a pair from ebay that were actually men's and are way too big and a pair from Urban Outfitters that were in confusing European sizes and much too small. Someday I will be victorious and broke from shipping charges.

Well, this list is pretty much turning into a Things I Want list. It did, however, take up twenty minutes.

schooled

Rising panic.

I only have three weeks left of my entire school life. Four to five weeks left of my job.

My job that I have grown to love. I love absolute freedom and writing all day. For the first time in my life I can come and go as I please, no questions asked. I can check my phone whenever I hear a little buzz coming from the corner of my desk and I can get ready in the morning without fear of clocking in five minutes late.

I will miss getting assignments, picking up tickets at will-call, scribbling notes in dim light and rushing frantically back to the office to typetypetype with one eye on the clock.

I will miss my parking pass and my little name badge that grants me access into the newsroom. I will miss driving around the valley interviewing people with fascinating (and not so fascinating) stories.

I will miss staring out the fifth floor window all day at the old Tribune building and wondering what it would be like to work in a time when my preferred profession was not laughable.

I would like to take a month of and travel all over in my car, but the catch-22 of it all is that that takes money. Money you get from a job. That will not let you take a month off to travel. What to do?

In other news, Deven and I made a married person blog documenting our room mate romance. There is a poll. It will be fun.

http://www.thefinhood.blogspot.com

Vacation, please.

I, quite desperately, want to go on a road trip spanning from California to Florida. I want to hop in my (very untrusty) car, tumble out on a beach somewhere, visit best friends in Illinois and Tennessee, stop at small antique stores in small towns, sing to mixes made for rolling down the windows, never wash my wind-tangled hair, enjoy the road and the sunrises and the sunsets and end up at this magical place:





Mapquest tells me it will only cost $600 in gas...

Last night I had the most terrible dreams about bears. I blame the whale incident. But I love bears, seriously, I am like a bear advocate. These nightmares ruined my life. My family and I were camping and swimming in the lake alongside a pack of bears. They were being adorable and splashing us and rolling around when one of them just snapped and started running (on the water, yes) towards a little child, growling and being generally terrifying. Not wanting to see what was about to happen, I started running with my parents towards the forest. There we stumbled upon more angry bears and a terrifying chase ensued. Ending with us all being eaten. By wild, rabid bears.

I can't even tell you how much I hate my subconscious right now. I will never be able to enjoy Bear World again. Okay, that's a lie I can, but still. Bears were like the one thing I wasn't scared of in the wilderness. and wolves. I do like wolves. Cue next frightening dream...

I forgot to put a title until just now

I am about to show you the most beautiful bicycle to ever grace my eyes:



and now a confession: I am too scared to ride a bike around the city. Even though it is a baby city, I am terrified of being one with cars when all I have is a slight metal frame and a Styrofoam helmet to protect me.

I don't know the etiquette of real-life bike riding. I'm good as long as there are bike lanes, but once it is me and the bare street...terror. I'm telling you. Do I do arm signals? Switching lanes when I need to turn left?!?? What if someone drives to close to me and hits me with their side-view mirror? Havoc. In my mind riding a bicycle downtown is havoc.

Update: I just ate one of those those cheese and cracker things with the sweet little red stick and it had so much cheese on it that I almost threw up...It seems I am no longer a child capable of loving insane amounts of processed cheese. Sad.