Wednesday, December 29, 2010

You're holding my hand Chuck, you sly dog... :)

I have decided to dedicate this post to one of the best people in my sister, Natalie.

To fill you in on the current situation:

I am at home, during Christmas break doing the normal Christmas break things: sleeping in, eating, never getting out of my pajamas (and not having my mother make any sort of comment about it) and reveling in the fact that there is someone who understands every single one of my jokes.

(The title of this post is a reference to a wonderful movie entitled: A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving for those of you who are unaware).

Something that makes my sister Natalie special is that she needs no explanation of this to understand that I am quoting a wonderful line delivered my the impeccable Peppermint Patty.

I guess you could say me and Natalie are close but that is a complete understatement; we're more like twins than sisters.

I know this sounds totally sappy and Natalie would be completely outraged and say something to the effect that we have no similarities and we are merely sisters though she being more mature than me should be considered the older one. This is so commonplace that it would feel weird if she did not protest this fact.

I wish everyone could see Natalie for who she really is: the crazy, wonderful, ridiculous younger sister that I have.

Instead, they see her as one of two things:

1) the kind, mature Natalie


2) the bossy, stuck-up Natalie

Natalie can be both, but that's not WHO she is; she's just as crazy as me.  I guess with school and life I can forget about home and how much I love it but Natalie is my connection to home even if she is attending the  heathen school of BYU... (shudder). I guess she just has to be different, right?

I will have to admit going back to school will be difficult just as it always is.

Merry Christmas and see you in 2011!

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Christmas?!? When did you get here?

Christmas is a wonderful time of the year when snow falls, people seem cheerier and the world is at peace. *cue the angelic voices*.

Unfortunately for me, Christmas is somewhat like your mother unexpectedly dropping in on you.

[DISCLAIMER: I love my mom. I just look a dirty slob when she comes.]

It's not like she can come on a Sunday after you spent the entire Saturday cleaning and she can come in when you are sitting there looking all nice in your Sunday clothes, clean and fresh. You look wonderful and you have some sort of delicious something cooking in the background.

That's too easy.

Instead, she'll drop in on you on the Thursday where you have 2 weeks of laundry sitting in the corner and the dishes in the sink are starting to create flies. You slept in and are wearing a shirt with three mysterious stains on it. You didn't shower but it rained and so you look like a drowned rat and you just got home and are sitting on the couch not doing anything because your brain feels like you tossed it in a blender with a bunch of random facts and you are just hoping that if you sit there long enough you will get the energy to do the stuff you need to do.

And then your mom comes in.

And as she gives you and the room a once over, you give up the fight and just sit there like a fish out of water, praying that she doesn't ask you why?
 -Why your room is messy and she can smell your clothes?
-Why you have flies in your dishes?
-Why you look terrible?

Instead, you realize that the most you can hope for is just a slightly cocked eyebrow. If your mom is fully really guilt-trippy she will just start cleaning things up and that's when everything comes out in a flood because there is seriously nothing worse than watching your mom clean up your mess. I can't handle it, so I generally start to bawl while shouting, "STOP CLEANING!"

Christmas is a little like that, minus the mom guilt. It's just the normal kind where you think to yourself. "Now I have these people in my life that deserve/need a Christmas present" and then you realize that you have no way to get them anything that they are going to like. This is something that I have happen to me a lot. In fact, most gift-giving holidays terrify me because everyone seems to just instinctively know exactly what I want and that's  exactly what I get. It means that I spend most of Christmas worried that they hate me gift because to be perfectly honest with you I am a lousy gift giver.

This year it has been taken to a whole new level. I now have a boyfriend that has been added to the list. This kid is a douzy because of two things:

1. I know him but at the same time I have no idea what he will like. He also bought the blu-ray I was going to give him for himself. (note: I know, who does that in December?!?)

2. He told me he got the perfect present for me. (Seriously, how could that not scare anyone?)

This is the kind of pressure that makes me feel like I should know these people better.

Example: My sister Angela got me the third season of Psych for Christmas last year. Did I even ask for that? No, but it was the best gift because I LOVE that show! I was so psyched (hahaha, pun totally intended!)

This is why Christmas is always a little bit scary....

Thursday, December 2, 2010

I really should just add dating service to my resume

I am very comfortable around people, I really like being around them and learning about them. This has sometimes got me into to trouble as I have an ability to probe out stories from people, and sometimes I really shouldn't prod them (generally with a pitchfork) to answer my questions.

I do this mainly because I am curious and sometimes because I know people do not want to brag so they want someone to ask. I am that person.

If you want someone to freak out with you because you got kissed, call me!

If you want someone to bring you ice cream when you get dumped, call me!

If you just want someone to act interested in your life, call me!

This is an attribute that I have noticed more and more has gotten me into position where I set people up on dates. Not often, generally just for Girl's Choice IWA dances.

[Sidebar: I believe that girls should definitely be feeling the pressure to find a date for these things. I feel that every girl needs to know what a guy goes through to ask a girl out. It's hard to do and something that I feel most girls do not fully realize. It's hard to put yourself on the line, so be kind to those boys who are asking. They are great people too].

I have this position because a) I do know a lot of guys b) I am willing and able to take rejection c) most people have a hard time saying no to me.

I always go for one of three approaches to asking them to come to a dance with a stranger.

1. The "I need a Favor". This works well on hometeachers, friends and guys who you know in the ward but aren't buddy-buddy with. I start the pitch with asking them if they are busy and then finish with, I need a favor.  There's a cute girl (because they are all cute!) in my IWA chapter who does not have a date for the dance. Would you be willing to go with her? (if they aren't busy, they say yes).

2. The "I heard you were single". This works well on random guys in your ward. It keeps you from looking too suspicious and you start with, "I heard you were single, and I thought what?!? he's so cool and then I say I know you are busy but would you be willing to go on a date with [insert name of girl] she's super chill!" It works every time like a charm.

3. The "please". This works well on guys who are generally opposed to going on set up dates. Generally, the guy in question might hate set up dates. This one requires that I see them in person. And I say,"so I have this girl who needs a date..." I pause and wait for them to say something like, "You know I do not like set up dates," or "So?" and then I say, "please?" while pouting and looking at them with puppy dog eyes. These guys generally cave because looking at that face makes them laugh and so they are forced to realize that it might be fun.

I think a dating service might just be the thing for me....I'll consider the idea over Christmas break.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Maybe time for a picture....

I make silly faces. Ask anyone who actually knows me and they will have one if not many stories about me pulling a face that is unable to be described using real words. If some of the faces I pulled were real words they would be stuff like:




maybe with a dash of


thrown in for good measure.

I think to start off this blog (we are going to discount everything that has just been said previously) I should explain just a little bit about my friends. My friends are extremely cool and let me get away with a lot of stuff that they shouldn't.


This one time when I was 14 I was over at a friends (Laura Smith) doing super cool stuff, like taking online quizzes that told us the name of our future loves (mine: Harold hers: James translation: I am going to marry an old farty grandpa while she is going to marry a hip, hot and cool man) and listening to music (I think we were listening to The Click 5, a boy band who was known for their emo haircuts and ridiculous music). Because we were sitting in the kitchen there happened to be a lot of things on the table, one of which was a mini-baseball bat. We were just talking when my friend's younger sister (Eve) came into the kitchen.
I then decided to pick up baseball bat and tap it into my palm, much like one would do if they were planning on beating you up. Thinking back, I have no idea, why I thought to myself  "Pick up the baseball bat, this is will end well" but I decided to trust my gut.

As I slapped the baseball bat repeatedly into my palm, I looked at Eve and said,

"Eve put some candy in your pockets, we're playing pinata." in a slightly scary tone.

At this point in our relationship, I had talked to Eve maybe a total of two times, and I hadn't said much more than "hi, how are you?" so this was quite unexpected. Eve looked at me as if the insane asylum had had a half day and let me out early, and then walked out of the kitchen, my friend Laura burst out laughing and then we went back to talking about who knows what.

This is just one of many examples/memories of how my friends just let me say it and then we all move on. In fact, Eve and I are now friends and she is hilarious!

*end of example/memory*

Now that that tangent is done, let's get back to the real story.

A couple of weekends ago, I went down to Provo to visit my younger sister and see some friends from Wisconsin who I hadn't seen in awhile (including Eve but not including Laura b/c she's on her mission in Russia still). This was an AWESOME adventure into why I love my friends from Wisconsin. I thought about making a list but then thought "there are pictures on facebook...why describe when I can just narrate the photos!?!?" so of course that is what I am going to do.

First of all that's start with me and my younger sister Natalie: (I am on the right, with the shopping bags under my eyes)

We are holding a bear that Eve got from two boys (yes, TWO boys) named Buart (like Stuart with a B), who  besides looking cute, plays the Jonas Brothers when you squeeze his paw...I think that sums up Eve's relationship with boys. She has pretty much 50 guys after her but she remains single because she is a smart girl who realizes she is still in high school. After Eve came and messed around with us for a little bit, we decided to go out to dinner to Zupa's which is a soup, salad and sandwich place that is in one word: SUPERAWESOMELYMOSTDELICIOUS. 
Here is a picture of the food we ordered:

This is an interesting story because I could not for the life of me order the food. As you can see I had one sandwich, one soup and two salads. I was paying for me and Natalie and they have this deal where you can get half a soup and sandwich or half a sandwich and salad or half a soup and a salad at the same price. It is an awesome deal but I could not remember what we had gotten, and the situation went a little bit like this:

Girl taking my order: So what do you have?

Me: Two soups, two salads and a sandwich.

Natalie: No

Girl: *with a confused look*: so what do you have?

Me: Two salads, two sandwiches and a soup"

Eve: No

Me: oh, I mean two salads, a sandwich, two soups

Natalie: No!

Girl: *staring blankly at me*

Natalie: Noooo!

Me: a salad and a soup

Girl: *thinking to herself  you idiot* so what do you have?

Eve: a soup, two salads and that sandwich over there.

Natalie: Em.

It was extremely embarrassing but of course Natalie and Eve had a good 'ole laugh at that one, and the food was so YUMMY!!! I was eating it and I kept making really weird "yum" noises.

This next picture is of a common occurrence. I decided to feed Eve and this is what Natalie captured:

This would be just one of the many weird facial expressions I often make. My most embarrassing picture is one where I look like I have no teeth and am sort of squinting. Suffice it to say, I look stupid. This was a picture that was taken of my ward at girls camp and so everyone who went has a copy of this picture. I don't have a scanner so I won't upload it but here is Eve and Natalie's interpretation of my face:

Aren't they cute? We had planned on going to see the movie Despicable Me afterwards but it wasn't playing so instead we decided to go to Eve's house before going to see another friend of ours "A" (I will explain later). We goofed around and here is just a good picture of the three of us:

We are all sitting on a chair meant for one but no big deal because Eve weighs less than a dollar bill and Natalie should be a model. I am the only one who has substantial weight, so it was pretty much like one person was sitting on the chair. After we goofed around a lot, we went to go meet up with a friend (who is named Adriana but everyone calls her A) who is also  from Wisconsin and had just finished a choir concert. We met her at this diner called "The Shoppe" or something like that, where she was getting a shake with some choir buddies. Because Eve and I are loud and Adriana is short we decided just to shout her name. Natalie abstained. It went a little like this:

*Eve and Me enter diner*

Eve and Me: A! A! Adriana Rankin! ADRIANA! ADRIANA RANKIN! A....a?

*complete silence from patrons*
*Eve and Me stand awkwardly, Natalie enters*

Natalie: maybe A isn't here.

Eve and Me: *feeling uncomfortable* oh ok (to other patrons) I GUESS SHE ISN'T HERE YET, WE'LL JUST WAIT!!

We sat down and not a minute later, A pops up. I guess she was at the front of the line and did not hear us shouting, so we just looked liked fools. We were goofing around and taking pictures, when someone who was standing in line said, "hey do you want me to take a picture of all four of you?

Eve and I stared for a second before shouting, "YES!!" like this guy had just solved the world hunger problem. He stared at us like we were drunks in Provo. Here is the best of the shots he got:

The others feature me looking away or us all blurry. A is lying across our laps, but she really is that short. (Just kidding).  A's shake is in the lower right hand corner, and it got knocked over (probably by me, but I don't remember) and everyone (all the patrons who were starring at us) said: OOOOHHHH! We then decided it was a good idea to go back to Natalie's apartment so we wouldn't get the police called on us to arrested the obviously intoxicated persons. 
When we got back another of the Wisconsin bunch of friends was there. Natalie's roommate Danielle, is a Wisconsin buddy so of course we decided to play "let's do weird things and take pictures of them. Here are some in little bursts:

I think we are doing some sort of dance...again I'm not really sure what we were thinking.

 Danielle is the one who looks like a Twig. Hence her nickname for awhile was "Twiggy" Aren't we clever?

This picture is only funny because after we took, I looked at it and said, "It looks like I'm trying to give birth to Buart...BREECH BABY!" Which made us all laugh and feel silly together. 

Honestly, this was one of the best weekends I have had this semester. I love my Wisconsin friends (if you weren't aware) because it doesn't matter how much time has passed we are all still friends and it feels like no time has passed every time we get together, and that's something I can handle. 

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Old People= Advice + Love

The only thing worse than having a paper cut on your heart, is having one on your finger.

Let me explain: 

Since I turned sixteen, (and minus a brief period for 6 months) I have worked in nursing homes, assisted living places and retirement centers. Those three places have one thing in common: an abundance of old people (a.k.a. the elderly). Old people are known for (but not limited to) having extreme and polarized opinions about the lack of respect in the rising generation (a.k.a. teenagers), a noticeable lack of being able to feel heat (so of course the thermostat is set to 110 F) and an inexplicable urge to advise (read:: control) young people's decisions about everything. 

This is something that I am used to; on a daily basis I will be told how to do my hair, correct my posture and what major would be good for me. This is all part of the old person persona and everything is said with a dash of experience and a ton of love so I know they all mean well. They want the best for me, unfortunately what they think is the "best" is not always the "best" but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, one of the unfortunate side effect is having them never react they way you expect. Sometimes it's an overreaction, sometimes an under-reaction and sometimes, it just doesn't make sense. Here are a few examples:

Me: I have a boyfriend.
Them: So, when are you getting married?

Me: I am an International Studies and Economics Major.
Them: How are you going to get married and have kids with that major?

Me: I am going to see my family next week.
Them: So you moved away just to get away from them? That is a terrible attitude. 

Me: I think I'm going to cut my hair.
Them:  You look like a boy with short hair, but get them to fix your bangs.

The most current example is from yesterday. I work in the kitchen or activities department for this current assisted living place and it makes for some interesting experiences because old people are picky when it comes to their food and entertainment. 

Yesterday, I worked both breakfast and lunch which means that I get up early in the morning. Because of this,   I generally don't put my contacts in, preferring to wait until I get home and take a shower before showing pieces of plastic in my eye. I wear glasses and generally look like a slob with my hair pulled up in a ponytail. Generally, I just get comments about how I am never going to get a husband or I look sick but yesterday, I got one of the funniest comments. 

As I went to ask what one of the residents wanted, she took a long look at me. At my hair, my glasses, my slumped posture, my giant (company provided) green shirt, my tan pants and worn out shoes and said: "You realize that you are a girl right?" 

I had two reactions I could have taken: a) be completely offended and never talk to her again or b) wait until I got back into the kitchen and laugh myself silly.

It may not surprise you to know that I chose option b. 

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

What used to be Toasty Tuesdays is now Terror Tuesdays

I have a friend (my family's usual response to this statement is You have a friend?!? as if me having a friend is like me having a fire-breathing unicorn for a pet) who started this tradition that on Tuesdays as a protest to winter (because winter comes early and often in Logan, Utah)  he would wear shorts. He called this tradition Toasty Tuesdays. It was something that I, as someone who can't handle the cold in the slightest, was unable to do. The one time I did it went something like this:

Scene:  My house preparing to leave for school.

* pauses at the door, and takes a deep breath. Then opens the door*


*slams door shut and goes to change clothes*

End Scene

So as you can see from my reaction. Toasty Tuesday was not my thing, but it become something of a phenomenon in which people would watch as he made his way across campus wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

Unknowingly, I decided to do the same this year. My Tuesdays are now called, "Terror Tuesdays" .

I have the worst schedule in which I spend less than ten minutes at my home for 12 hours. Here is my schedule for the day:

9:00-9:30 wake up, get ready go to the library
9:40-10:20 work on homework for the day
10:30-11:20 first class
11:30-2:30 go to work
3:00-4:15 second class
4:30-7:00 work again
7:00-9:00 third class
9:30 arrive home and fall exhausted on my bed. sleep comes immediately.

It's the worst day in the history of days, always made more complicated because things like my RS president calling me and saying lets do visit teaching! And me foolishly saying OK!

I definitely need a new brain.

Monday, August 30, 2010

School, News, and Nostalgia

I found out some startling news today: My cousin is a lot better about informing the world of news related to me than I am. 

"How," you ask, "can a pregnant woman tell so many people info about you? I mean she's pregnant so aren't people asking about her?" 

Oh, you silly and rather naive reader, you forget that Jessica has super human powers and can turn any question about her into a way to spread the news.


Person: Jess, how's the baby?

Jess: Not as good as the one Emily is about to have.

*awkward pause*

Person: Emily's....pregnant?!?

Jess: No, but's she's seriously dating a guy and might be engaged soon and have a kid soon after.

Person: (completely forgetting about their original thought) who's she dating?

and then Jess is free to tell them all about my dating life. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not upset or anything, I just get confused when people then come up to me and ask how's the boyfriend and I start to wonder exactly how they know about that because I did not say anything to them. 


Person: Emily!!! So how's the boyfriend?

Me: how did you know? (sometimes I think they can just sense it, then they say this:)

Person: Jess told me, so are things going good? do you miss him? 

Me: yes and yes.

Person: tell me all.

and then I feel very weird as I tell them a story they already know...sort of. I mean Jess knows a lot so she's able to tell a lot of the story. Because this is the first day of school, I have had this conversation a lot, along with making it to all of my classes and actually feeling like I fit in, fairly well. It's a nice change from feeling like a fool trying to find her classes. 

I found that the only thing I am missing from my classes is the yin to my yang in class. Her name is Lia Cutler, and she and I mainly have all of our classes together but this is the first semester that she is not in school with me. She is going on a mission, so it's not like she isn't doing anything but I definitely miss her in class. I had to laugh at myself when funny things happened. It felt odd. Hopefully, this feeling will go away.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Grass, Water, Jelly and other things that get on my shirt.

Today I woke up early (comparative to the normal time I wake up) and got a lot of things accomplished. By about 11:30 am. I had my to-do list done which is both a good thing and a depressing thing. Good: I was done with my to-do list. Depressing: if I got up earlier I would always have more things done at the end of the day. Either way, I was able to go and hang out with a friend I haven't seen all summer.

Seriously, the one thing about school I just love is reconnecting with the people that went home for the summer. It was great to be able to just catch up. Then I went to campus and decided because it was warm outside and I was sweating (attractively, of course) when I decided to cut through the shade of the cemetery. 

The cemetery is really pretty and not at all creepy. It also has these nice paths through it so you aren't skipping over people's graves which would be inappropriate at best. I saw a few sprinklers going but I did not think that would be a problem.

It was a problem. The next ten minutes from when I entered the cemetery to when I got out were spent playing a real-life version of frogger in which I timed by passes by running and stopping and running into people's headstones and ducking behind trees to avoid getting wet. Now, I'm sure you are wondering what the problem was, let me explain, I was wearing tennis shoes; if you get your tennis shoes you walk around with squeaky, stinky, wet feet. That was not happening if I had anything to do with it, so of course I sacrificed my ego, once again (at this point I am amazed I have any ego left) and decided that non-squeaky shoes were the best bet. 

I honestly am excited for school to start. 

Monday, August 23, 2010

Relationship = Girl + Boy, right?

Firstly, I have a boyfriend. The guy mention in an earlier post, yeah him. He's my boyfriend. Eventually, I did what I said I would. I took advantage of an opportunity and then declared my like. It kind of went down like this:

Disclaimer: I sound stupid in this situation so be forewarned. 

Him: Well, tonight was fun... *gives me a hug*

Me: *grins like an idiot* yeah. (said with barely contained enthusiasm)

Him: so you're going to be back on Sunday? 

Me: *still grinning stupidly* yeah. (said with barely contained enthusiasm)

Him: ok, talk to you then.

Me: *surprisingly my cheeks haven't given out, as I continue to grin* yeah. (said with barely contained enthusiasm) 

*I turn to leave but turn back around*

Me: Just fyi: I kind of like you. *I start to walk away really fast, like suddenly my pants caught on fire*

Him: I kind of figured. *he leaves*

Me: *starting to grin like a fool again* yeah. (said with barely contained enthusiasm).

End Scene. 

Yeah, not exactly my finest moment, but whatever we are in fact dating, so it ended well. Anyway, I guess I forgot that as much as you think a relationship is just about the two of you: you know girl + boy = relationship. I forgot the family rule which states:

(girl + family) + (boy - age)                 = relationship + family
 family's reaction to relationship

Because I forgot this equation, I failed to remember how many people start to care about you having a relationship, and then in turn you feel like they have to meet the S. O. (significant other) so you can put their rumors to rest. So, I decided this weekend was a good time.

There are only a few things  wrong with this idea.

1. He is meeting my family.
2. #1 takes care of pretty much everything.

I really should explain. I love my family. They are wonderful people who want the best for me, but when I am introducing someone new to them, they have one of two reactions:

1. Immediately begin to give the new person a hard time, and start teasing me incessantly as if they have never seen such a great opportunity to give me a hard time.


2. Start finding things wrong with him/our relationship. And then demand that I break-up/never force them to meet him.

Because I am not living in the same state as my parents, they are generally the last ones to meet the new boy, but they have the most information, as the aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, all dole out their opinion. My aunts, uncles, older cousins, and grandparents generally falls into the 1st category, when they meet someone new. Luckily, I found a guy who could withstand their teasing and they liked him for being able to take a joke.

Unfortunately, my immediate family and my younger cousins generally fall into the 2nd category. My younger sister has told me on many occasions that she is going to hate everyone I date and the guy I eventually marry. So she isn't going to be convinced that I am doing the right thing because he is in fact a good guy, oh well. My younger cousins just think I'm crazy to date people, because in their logic when you get married/start dating you become boring.

At least he met my dad, who whenever someone meets him, raises the question: how is he related to you? I'm not even kidding, if he didn't look so much like me, people would honestly wonder if I was adopted because my father is super chill about stuff, and I tend to be more dramatic.

All in all, it was sort of normal family stuff.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Slip n' Tumble n' Fall n' Slide in a heap to the bottom

I have decided that Slip n' Slide are ridiculously badly named. I mean, how often do you just slip and then slide down the wet plastic sheet of death?

For me, a Slip n' Slide is more a demonstration of my lack of coordination and ability to bruise my entire body in one fall. Why did I go down a Slip n' Slide? Wouldn't I just avoid the death trap? Au contraire, mes amies, that would be too easy.

This all started when I went to my cousin's reception in Ogden.
My cousin got married last week in Nauvoo, Illinois and went on his honeymoon right after. Seeing as most of his family and her family were here in Utah, they decided to have a reception of sorts celebrating their marriage. Because I am from a large family, receptions are usually synonymous with stress, back aches, and leftovers that will feed us until the apocalypse, but this one was different. Following tradition, the bride's family puts on the reception, so all we (the groom's family) had to do was show up and look presentable. This was easy enough and the invitation said they would be playing volleyball, so I brought some shorts I could change into to play.

NOTE: there was nothing about a Slip n' Slide in said invitation.

The reception started out pretty normally, a lot of standing around and catching up with various relatives, all of which joked about how I was going to be married next, (sidebar: seriously relatives? Do you not realize that I have an older sister who has to be married before me? please...) and in general just goofing around.
Tracy and Lincoln decided to have their "line" over my the food. So as Tracy (in her wedding dress) and Lincoln were flipping burgers to give to people, they were able to be congratulated for their marriage. I enjoyed talking to them while putting relish on my bun. It worked out nicely for me. The girl cousins who were there did our usual and sang "No life without wife" to Tracy accompained by some silly hip twists and booty shaking. (Additional sidebar: this is a tradition started at the first wedding, Lance and Julie, because of the Bollywood movie: Bride and Prejudice which is the Bollywood version of Pride and Prejudice, check it out).
Tracy had the most confused face on, while Lincoln looked embarrassed. A win, in my book of course.

The reception started getting weird about the time, Tracy played volleyball (in her wedding dress). I had changed to play volleyball, forgetting the cardinal rule of all ball sports: If it is round, it will hit Emily in the face.  So I suffered from some great face shots before giving up. Then they pulled out a Slip n' Slide.

This wasn't some little kids thing. This was a monster of epic proportions, and it was challenging me to a duel, winner takes all (my pride). I really didn't think I was going to go on, but then Tracy did it in her wedding dress which was the last straw for my feeble pride. I ran, I slipped, I fell, I bruised, and slid into the grass at the bottom.
Did you know there are such things called grass burns? I did not until I felt them on my face. Currently, my face looks like a fight between a cat and dog was boxed out on my face. I also knocked down a tiki torch and got a paper cut on my upper lip. (not quite sure how the last one happened.

Ok Family it's time to place your bets.

Ok. I'm not going to lie. I can be loud. I can be extremely hyper and super outgoing and totally not care about what people think about me.

But sometimes. I can be shy. Painfully shy. As in I want to curl up into a little ball and make all the people go away. I tried asking a boy I liked out. It sort of went like this:

Me: "Want to go see Toy Story 3 with me like on a date?"

I know you're probably thinking, well that sounds ok, awkward but not horrible. It would have maybe worked out, had he not also started speaking at the same time.

Him: "We could watch Mega-Shark vs. Giant Octopus!"

This made the conversation stall as he had heard nothing of what I said, (I will admit, I mumbled...sort of like a creepy person.) and all I got was that he enjoyed the movie Mega-Shark vs. Giant Octopus, by the way he was holding it up with a super happy face on.

So I did what any fearless, young female does in a situation like this: I chickened out.

Me: "We've all seen that movie, why would we want to watch it again?"

At this time my friend Melanie (McFelony) came back from the bathroom and pretty much eliminated any courage I had left. Instead I melted into an embarrassed puddle of shyness, and did not mention said date again. Instead I brought up Toy Story 3, and just asked him to come with me giving the impression that Melanie (still McFelony) would be coming....ahh, what lovely times my shyness to appear. Why can't my crippling shyness overcome me before I say something silly or stupid, or before I crash down steps or something.

I'm thinking my shyness should be used for good and in a way that will make me a better person. Instead, it cripples me when I should just say, "HEY BUDDY. I LIKE YOU. WE HANG OUT WAY TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO NOT LIKE ME TOO. SO LET'S GO ON A DATE." Unfortunately, any attempts I have made to say something similar come out like this.


Him: What?


So instead I am stuck doing awesome things like convincing my friend Melanie (you guessed it, McFelony) to bring her family (who came up specifically to visit her) to Toy Story 3 so it's me, Melanie, Melanie's family and him. What a great date! I use her as a sort of human shield from courage and having guts.

I think my next plan with him, might feature a shouted (mumbled) declaration of like (sort of like love) as in when I leave for the night after hanging out a conversation might go like this:

Me: This was fun.

Him: Yeah

*high five*

Me: *turning to leave* oh fyi: I like you. Goodnight.

*the door shuts so hard and fast, he is knocked to the ground and wakes up with no memory of the incident.*

So yep. I'm just using that same fearless-ness that has gotten me every boyfriend I have ever had. Strangely enough, I have never been this scared to say something about my feelings. It's slightly bizarre. (note: bizarre has only one z, thank you spell check). Anyway, I feel this is an appropriate time for people to start placing bets on how, when and what I'm going to say...if I say anything at all.
Personally, I feel the plan where I suddenly fall ill for three weeks after admitting I like him is the most feasible.     Does embarrassment-itis count as a real disease? How about ego-bruising?