this bridezilla post may or may not be explicit.

Everyone knows, Taylor finally got the balls to propose. And we are happy and excited and in love. And I am going to write a post about the engagement story so that I can refer people to it when they ask. But later.

Planning a wedding has made me feel like a total bridezilla. But not like you'd THINK I'd be a bridezilla.

I am getting really p.o.'d about traditional, typical, BORING weddings. It's a really stupid thing to get mad about.

I think my initial anger came when I changed my facebook status to engaged (because it ain't legitimate unless it's on facebook) and instantly the little ads on the side bar popped up and were screaming at me about wedding dresses and photographers and caterers and cakes and frilly things telling me to fall right into the standard wedding mold.

The thing is that you're supposed to have a HUGE fkn diamond. and it's supposed to be white gold, because yellow gold is out. You're supposed to make your bridesmaids spend hundreds of dollars on dresses they'll never wear again, and then also do your bidding, and in return, you give them a 3 dollar gift. You're supposed to send out save the dates, then send announcements, then send invitations. You're supposed to spend a lot of money on flowers. You're supposed to have roses. You're supposed to make the groom wear a tux. You're supposed take your engagements by train tracks and wrap your arm around your fiancée proudly displaying your ring like it's a natural way for you to pose. You're supposed to have a big WHITE 3000 dollar designer wedding dress. You're supposed to coordinate your colors with the season you're getting married in. You're supposed to do everything according to a tradition that you have no idea who in hell started. You're supposed to serve everyone dinner and make them listen to boring music and sit around while you feed each other cake and stand around and smile like fkn idiots while really all you wanna do is rip each others clothes off and do it right there on the gift table, and they wanna go home and watch re runs of The Office. You're supposed to forget that you are getting married because you're in love and realize that a wedding is about show and nothing else and it's officially your number one priority. Essentially and frankly you're supposed to spend that ca-ca-cash, conform, and act like a bitch.

BUT LET THE RECORD SHOW, I am not going to do everything how I'm supposed to. And I hate openly saying that I am doing the opposite of the masses. But no matter how stressed I get, I will NOT forget that I am doing this whole wedding so that I can marry my best friend, get gifts, and celebrate with all of the people that I love. My wedding is not gonna be a show, it's gonna be a color coordinated hardcore party. And I don't really care what anyone thinks of it.

And just as a side note, I am not ashamed to admit that I spent 35 bucks on my wedding dress. and 15 bucks a piece on my Bridesmaid dresses. SUCKA WHAAAAT?

winter blues.

lately, i've had a case of the winter blues. but don't get out your razor blades and hawthorne heights ablums just yet. i just wanted to post some things that make me happy, and mostly laugh a lot. in this extremely brief multimedia blog post.

DOGS ACTING LIKE PEOPLE!

this picture of jamie in which she appears to be blind, drunk, or lost. or all of the above.

Summer.

Lately, I have been converting my family home videos to DVD, and have taken the opportunity to watch most of the videos. These videos range from 1996-2006. This has caused a serious case of nostalgia. Especially watching videos of my mom. It makes me realize how much I took for granted.

If you asked me 7 months ago what my favorite season was, I'd say, "ABSOLUTELY, summer." But spending a summer in Hotlanta changed my feelings about summer, COMPLETELY. So, I broke up with it, resented it and fell in love with the next season that came along. But I'm not here to complain, I just had a little reminder of why I loved summer so much, and that's what I'm here to talk about.

Although I didn't realize it at the time, summers in Manti were the BEST. The absolute best. The weather was wonderful, and even when it was hot as balls, it was still bearable. The nights were perfect. I remember feeling like I owned the town at night, cause it was dead, in the no stoplight town, except for the trashies hanging out at Top Stop. But it was my favorite time to be out, and it was safe, aside from the meth heads. My first car was a convertible, and I loved riding up and down the streets with the top down. In my younger years, we used to play night games, and we'd call boys who lived near by and they'd ride their bikes over and we'd spend a few minutes thinking we were cool, and then usually ended up playing capture the flag or .... that's pretty much it.

Whenever school got out, it was always around my birthday, so I had two things to look forward to. Then for about a month, I'd only see the friends I chose to see, unless I ended up at the pool (which was at the park.) Which I often did. THEN, came pageant (Mormon Miracle Pageant) time, and this is when you'd see basically everyone from school walking around, because that was the cool thing to do, even though half of us didn't stay and watch pageant, because we'd seen it a million times. And we'd see how much everyone changed in only the 4 weeks we'd been out of school. Once everyone had basically gone through puberty, it was usually only simple hair changes and golden summer skin. But in our prepubescent and pubescent years, people got boobs, got hips, got braces, got zits, their shoulders broadened, their voices changed.. and you know the drill.

Then it was onto the 4th of July, the carnival at the park, jam packed with FUNTIVITIES such as: climbing the greased pole, talent show, Miss 4th of July Pageant, carnival game booths, hot dogs, lemonade, BBQ, Popcorn, Cotton Candy, and all kinds of authentic borderline whitetrashery. And in the night time it was off to the football stadium, for the firework show, which to be honest, is the probably where they spend the entire city budget.

Until late August, the rest of the summer was a "choose your own adventure", I personally chose to spend my summer chasing tail and raising hell and getting drinks at Maverik. I also spent a lot of time at my grandpa's farm. Especially when I lived there. Don't let me fool you though, I didn't do much hard work at all, besides moving waterlines and complaining about it the whole time. And I would often—brace yourself—drive the tractor bailing hay. But for leisure I would ride the four wheeler, or the go cart, always be sure to steer clear of riding the horses, because I don't believe in riding horses. (Because of the "incident") Sometimes I would put the sprinkler under the trampoline. Or spend my time trying to jump from one trampoline to the other, because yes, I had two trampolines, and yes you are allowed to be jealous.

Then it was nearing the end of August and it was almost time for school again, but we were allotted one last hoorah before we were sent back to 9 months of hardwork, or in my case, not doing my homework, ever. If I weren't so charming, I probably would have never graduated. But I digress. This hoorah, was the Sanpete County Fair! You might notice it was coming because of the sudden increase of toothless smelly carnies in town. Or the derby cars running a muck in the streets. But it was a wonderful time of year. It's when you got to stay out late, and hope to ride the ferris wheel with your crush. Which brings me to a story, that I actually thought of the other day because of this video. One time when I was a young gal, I was at the fair, one of my earliest recollections of being at the fair, and I was on the ferris wheel, BACK before the ferris wheel became a thrill ride, when it went slow and you got stopped at the top often. I was stopped at the top, and I noticed some shouting and chanting so I looked down to see a crowd of Mexicans standing in a circle while two others fighting in the middle. Both had well styled mullets and boots, one had white wranglers, and other just regular jean wranglers. But they were not throwing punches, only kicking. But not the kind of kicking when you are kicking someones cat and you are trying to be nonchalant about it, but like Walker Texas Ranger high kicks and round housing. That's all I remember, but I don't think I really appreciated the humor of it until years later cause I was a geeky loser until highschool, where I became just a regular geek.

My personal favorite part of the fair, was the demolition derby. It was/STILL IS the most magnificent redneck event on the face of the entire earth. Never has there been, and never will there be a time when more mullets assemble together to drink beers, eat nachos, and cheer for their best friends while they watch them come close to death and injury all for the entertainment of the highly educated, diverse, residents of Sanpete county. For those of you who are less fortunate and less learned about what exactly a derby is, I will spare you me explaining it to you in my overly descriptive writing style and share with you this clip, authentic from an actual Sanpete county derby.

Anyway, I will not apologize for the length of this post, because it is a blog, and I do whatever I want. But now you have a peek into my life. And perhaps, even a trip down memory lane if you were as lucky as me to grow up in Manti, or surrounding areas. (Except Gunnison, you still suck.)

Immune Systems Take Breaks for Thanksgiving too.

Not to be SO negative, but I am sick. I'm not the kind to keep track very well, but I feel like I always get sick around the holidays. And it's not normal sick. It's like I get every sickness that exists, but not usually all at once, my body tricks me into thinking I'm getting better by the end of the day, then I wake up with some new ailment, with the lingering sicknesses from before. It's like a conga line. Like, I literally think the germs are having a party while my immune system is on vacation for the week.

Break Down Of My Holiday Sickness Conga Line:

Late Sunday night: start feeling a little sore in my throat. also, on my period.

Monday: wake up with a fever, fatigue, chills, aches, and of course the sore throat. also on my period.

Tuesday: aches, sore throat, little fever, humble beginnings of a sinus infection, headache, and of course fatigue. period finally ends.

Wednesday: Throat is worse than ever, sinus infection starts to set in. Still fatigue.

Thursday: Sore throat is less bad, sinus build up starting to get out of control. Stomach hurts. Also I get carsick on the trip. But by later in the evening, I am feeling all but better. Lay down, start coughing some.

Friday (right now): Wake up with major sinus pressure in my face, sinus headache, and coughing, light sore throat, and little to no voice.

And the rest is to be continued, I am sure I'll be sick until I have to go back to work on Monday.

Oh, irony.

for all my friends and family in utah.

i love you.

MEN HAVE VERY SKEWED PERCEPTION OF THE PURPOSE OF PURSES.

i'm not going to make this elaborate, because the title explains it all.

most girl's significant others, or best manfriend, etc. have at some point in their life asked them to bring their purse to sneak in candy or snacks at the movies. or asked them to carry something (wallet, keys, phone, camera.) in their purse when going to some kind of event.

but i think i have a purse story that trumps all men trying to use women for their purse stories.

on our anniversary, which was on friday, Taylor took me to cirque du soleil. which was incredible, and then to the atlanta fish market, which according to Jamie "is really goo...a lot of people really lii.... it's really raved about." (inside joke, you're on the outside.) I ordered Lobster Scampi, and Taylor ordered King Crab Legs. THEY WERE GINORMOUS. (which actually isn't a word, I checked. just call me Sarah Palin.) When we were finished, Taylor asked me if he could keep the claw as a souvenir. I told him I didn't care, assuming that he would get a box to go and put it inside. But when the check rolled around he didn't ask for a box and wrapped the claw in a napkin, i knew what was coming. I knew what was coming because this is the guy who made me bring my purse to a couple of concerts for the sake of storing his camera (and I HATE bringing my purse to shows.) So when he asked, I was resistant at first but then I decided I could do him a solid and store the skeleton claw in my purse for him. After all, he did drop a few hundred bucks on me all for celebrating one year of putting up with me.

Here's a visual aid:

*not my actual purse.

The Notebook.

I found this in an email I wrote to my friend 2 years ago and I thought it was funny.

"when you are in love, it's everything, your story is epic, similar to "The Notebook." but to everyone around you, it's not that intense or epic, it's just another "couple". But some people don't understand the concept that everyone is not that impressed with their love story. I think this is because a lot of people fake like they are into these lame love stories. I don't know. Am I even making sense? I want mine to be like the "The Notebook" to everyone around me, but I still won't talk about it that much, cause I'm not 15 anymore."

However, now, I would say my love story is a little more like, Everybody Loves Raymond. Romantic! Le sigh.

One year anniversary post to come later.

crafts i've been doing.

as promised, here's a post about crafts i've been doing.

aka

check them on my new etsy shop!

paint sells.

dirty laundry.

Ever since I grew into my adulthood, about 10 months ago. (JK, still working on it.) I haven't been one for airing my dirty laundry in public, I rarely, if ever, talk about negative things that are going on in my life, particularly my love life.

Mostly, because I have learned from my past mistakes of telling anybody everything.

But, today, I would like to talk about something that I've been meaning to write about for awhile, and it is probably going to offend somebody, maybe. That's assuming that people even read this blog these days.

This is my testimonial about taking time, if you will.

Let me get real with you for a minute, this weekend was the most rough weekend I have ever had with Taylor. Ever. It was weird and I hated it and I'm glad it's over and resolved. And I realized how grateful I am that I have taken this time to get to know him, and learn how to handle situations such as these.

For those of you who are less educated about my life, I have been dating Taylor for almost a year now. And if we're being honest, if you told me a year ago, that I still wouldn't even be engaged by this time, I would have probably been punching babies and choking nuns. I don't feel this way anymore, and I didn't feel that way prior to our relationship either. I always told myself that I wanted to AT LEAST date someone for all 4 seasons and go on a road trip before I married them. Which, luckily, I have done + more.

DON'T GET AHEAD OF YOURSELVES. This is not an engagement announcement. We are not engaged. I am just simply saying, I am so grateful that I KNOW Taylor, and now I can honestly say that I love him. And it isn't a whirlwind romance, it's FOR REAL.

This isn't to say that everyone who rushes dating, engagement, and basically goes "Hey nice to meet you, will you marry me?" is wrong and it never works. I know people who are perfectly happy and did it that way. But I'm not going to pussyfoot around and tell you that it isn't a HUGE risk to marry someone that you don't know that well, because it is. (and no, you can't know someone that well in 3 months, sorry.) And unfortunately but fortunately I don't have the balls to do such a thing, even though I had a temporary moment of insanity and thought that's what I wanted. (The important thing here, is that I didn't.)

Anyway, I am not trying to be a huge A-hole and burst your bubble, rain on your parade, kill your buzz, harsh your mellow, or poop your party. I am just telling you that I personally am very happy about the time that I've taken, and will continue to take with my true love. Because I don't want a bunch of surprises when I'm married cause I'll be trying to get laid, a lot, and won't have time for such trivial things that I could have and have figured out while dating. And I highly recommend that if you have the chance to do so, you do the same.

Just saying.

Halloween!

i can't wait for it!

I am boycotting InkBall from here on out.

Sexual. and racist.

My fellow nerds and I will retire to the nerdery with our calculators.

Tell tale signs that you are dating a nerd.

wouldn't trade any of it. what other kind of guy would play super nintendo with you until you get arthritis?

I'm not a woman anymore, I'm a mom.

Yes, I have flaws. What are they? Well for one, sometimes I become obsessed with making the world a better place.

Which is why I want to talk to you today MOM JEANS.

Whenever I see a fly lady rockin' this type of swag, i this song instantly starts playing in my mind. (to fully enjoy this post, i suggest playing that in the background while you read.)

For those of you that know little to nothing about Mom Jeans, prepare to be educated.

According to wikipedia:

Mom jeans is a satirical term for a perceived fit of women's jeans considered very unflattering, consisting of a high waist (a few inches above the belly button), which accentuates a flat curvature of the buttocks, as well as generous cuts in the stomach and leg. Usually the jeans are in a light-blue coloring, solid with no form of Stone washing. Other attributes of the Mom jeans style often seen are pleated fronts, partially elastic waistbands, and blouses tucked in to the jeans.

But in all seriousness, the mom jeans epidemic is not a joke. Millions of families suffer every year from shame, embarrassment, and pleat related injuries. Some families are even given false hope to see that their mother has given up mom jeans, only to find that she has traded them in for a boob job and ed hardy jeans.

Fortunately though, times they are a changin'.

HOWEVER! BE WARNED: MOM JEAN MANUFACTURERS HAVE NOT GIVEN UP THE FIGHT.

They are getting sneakier and more innovative. I have seen it first hand. Normal girls, not anywhere near being a mom, falling victim to the stealthy, less obvious breed of mom jean.The most common victim is the overly confident girl. The one who shops alone, or with their mother with little fashion sense. The one who thinks she has every boy's heart on lockdown. The one who thinks her cuteness trumps all ugliness that she may betroth. I am here to tell you, you will bag no honorable men wearing high wasted jeans, and no cuteness in the world can save you.

Here are some simple guidelines to save you from the pain and humiliation of falling victim to mom jeans:

1) NO ELASTIC WAIST BANDS. NOT FOR DENIM, EVER.

2) Whenever possible, steer clear of high waists.

3) The zipper should never be more than 4 inches long.

4) The back pockets should never even come close to covering your entire buttcheek.

5) The front pockets should always be small enough to never serve any purpose other than to fit some chapstick and maybe a couple of quarters for a diet coke later.

6) When in doubt, listen to Chingy.

Don't let this happen to you!

Dear Pandora, I've outsmarted you.

Often times, and stop me if you don't know the feeling here: Pandora gets out of control. You'll be listening to your Beach Boys radio or whatever tickles you and BAM! BAM! BAM! here's some MEATLOAF! OR other various ear bleeding music.

And it can be very troubling. but fear not, behold, the solution:

that's all. sorry, it's easier to post unimportant pictures. i'll get creative soon.

see.

top one reason why i have a crush on myself.

after stalking myself online, i found this.

observe, my youtube channel.

(note the only two favorites: fat parasailing and the testimony of the book of mormon. ca-ching.)

that's it, that's all.

My dog wears clothes.

Not that anyone asked..

but.

I always feel like Leonardo DiCaprio wishes he could be Brad Pitt. So I made this very brief picture post.

REASONS WHY BRAD PITT IS BETTER THAN LEONARDO DiCAPRIO

[Exhibit A]

[Exhibit B]

[Exhibit C]

[Exhibit D]

THIS.

[Exhibit E]

the age old question, with an obvious answer.

[EXHIBIT F]

BRAD'S VERSATILITY.

THERE'S A KIND OF BRAD PITT FOR EVERYONE.

but nobody panic, my heart still belongs to this creep.

..and then i roundhouse kicked the president..

Typically, my boyfriend (as seen on the far right in bed with his brother and their boyfriend.) will sleep until about 5 PM unless he gets a reasonable wakeup call from yours truly. He claims that he has sleep apnea. I can neither confirm nor deny this because contrary to what I will tell his grandma if she ever asks and also the prefix I selected on my iTunes account [Dr. Kynslie Coffin], I am not a doctor. At any rate, just to clarify, further testing is needed to determine what is wrong with him.

Whenever Tay wakes ME up in the morning with a phone call, he always tells me how cute my morning voice sounds. Oh how I wish I could say the same about him. He sounds like cookie monster but with a sore throat. (I choose this video because cookie monster is sitting with a less cute red head and that's what Taylor is into. You're welcome dear.) I have no other way to describe what he sounds like to you without doing an impression. So that's all you get.

Needless to say, on the phone, since he is tired and is basically gnawing on his phone while he speaks, it's nearly impossible to understand what he is saying. This wouldn't be a problem if the phone call went like this, RING RING RING tay: "*scratchy voice*..hello?" me: "hey!" tay: "dgkljskdjglkjglskjglkjsdglkjs?" me: "um.... good. anyway it's 10:30, so get up." tay: "k" me: "okay love you." hang up. because for the most part, i can just guess what he's saying and he wont know the difference.

BUT!

That is not how the story unfolds, without fail, he will always say (aka mumble/gurgle) "I had the craziest dream last night." and then I know I'm in for it. It's not so much that I don't care about his dreams, but they are ALL crazy, and none of them make any sense and usually I'm not in them. And we all know how self involved I am.

So typically this is how it goes down:

Tay: "I had the craziest dream last night..."
Me: "Cool."

Tay: "So me and this grrrurururrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr gugghhhhhhhhhhhrgurhghhgh ghruhrrrurururuurururughghhghghghghghghhgru gurhguhrguhrughurhg hhrgruuruhguhg hgurhguhrughruhgurhgurhguhg and then he had a knife hfhuehguheughehheg ehuugheuhgughguhu guhuehuehgeuhegh and then a you turned into a goose hgurehgurhughurhgurgh rughurhgurhguh ghhghguruur rhr rhughruhgurhhrhghur and you're gonna get mad but then i had a sexual encounter with Katherine Heigel rughrughhhghghghghhgghurhrughruhgurhgurhguhhgrruhgugurhgrh and then we were running hguhrguhrughurhgurhgurhgurghurhgruhgruhgurhg and everyone in Korea was eating Penis Jerky. hguehguheuheuhgurughruhguhg and then i roundhouse kicked the president in the fkn face! ghurhruhghghghghghurururururuhgh hgurhg urhgurh hgurhughrhh gguutututururururururuur hguuehugh and then i was pregnant like arnold swaguheuhgueghgg in that one movie he was pregnant in ghuerhruhrhrhruguggguuhggghghhgg and then the purple pig i gave birth to bit my nipple off and you died so i started dating this fat chick."

Me: *....stopped paying attention and hasn't realized it's over.*

Tay: "So isn't that crazy?"

Me: "Oh yeah."

Tay: "What was your favorite part?"

Me: "When it was over."

Now I'm sure some psycho freak girl who is secretly in love with him his reading this drooling over her fantasy about how much better she could treat him than me and thinking "what does he see in her??" and what I say to you young sirs, is that I am great in bed.

not really. who knows.

HEY!

i made these.

they're fkn awesome.

Facebook.

Luckily for all of you i've been in SUPER ANNOYED WITH EVERYTHING MODE.

You'd think I'd stay off of places like Facebook when I have this problem, but guess what? I don't.

SO, with that said, i've got some things to say.

Dear Foodies,

I know you think everyone cares what you had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But guess what unless you ate a human, or lawn chair, NOBODY CARES.

Dear Marrieds,

Unless he recently saved you from a fire, it's father's day, or your anniversary (and I'm being generous.) I do not want to read about how amazing your husband is. Unless he dutch ovened you in bed.

Dear Drama Kings/Queens,

Seriously. Stop with the boo hoo cryptic posts that are so obviously desperate cries for attention. If you want my attention, you're going to have to earn it, and with a status update that says something like, "This is the last time. I'm done." I'm not impressed. And it makes me want to puke whenever I see someone comment "What's wrong?"

Dear Music Lovers,

I get it, you love that song. But stop posting lyrics. I don't care if you know how to put little

♫ on the outisde of the words. I DON'T. CARE. don't care.

Dear Old People,

Cancel your account.

Dear Bloggers,

Facebook is not a blog, please stop with the recaps of your entire day.

Dear Funny people,

None of these rules apply to you (including the old people) Keep up the good work.

Remember that one time?

Remember that one time I was going to go on a media fast?

Well, I still haven't worked up the balls for it.

Maybe after the last episode of the hills next week.

OMG! Speaking of, can you believe Kristin actually CRIED?

More importantly, can you believe I even care?

I am just as lame as everyone else, I'm just better at hiding it.

Oh, the thoughts provoked by the cool side of the pillow.

last night i was trying to clear my head of all thoughts so that i could fall asleep, without much luck.

the only good part of this process is that i usually end up coming up with the best ideas that i never follow through with, or forget about.

but one of them actually stuck.

i started thinking about getting old and dying and i started to panic. (this seems to happen pretty frequently lately)

and i thought, "with my belief system, this should not scare me." which it then became apparent that my testimony is obviously much weaker than it should be. and it wasn't this huge epiphany, i've known for awhile, and made some feeble attempts to strengthen it. (reading scriptures everyday etc.)

but when it comes right down to it, if i'm being honest with myself, (which i am usually bad at) i waste A LOT of time with stupid things, like facebook, tv, magazines, stumbling through the internet etc. etc.

i honestly believe that all of this is cluttering up my brain.

anyway, the whole point is that this is an ironic blog post about how i am going on a media fast for a week in order to get back in touch with my spiritual side and strengthen my testimony. i will give up TV, internet, non-fiction books, radio, mainstream/worldly music, newspapers, magazines, etc.

it probably seems like i am posting this to be self righteous or something, but i actually just thought it might be thought provoking to other people too.

if by chance you yourself have ever tried a media fast i would love to hear all about it. i plan on keeping a journal [everday] throughout the process, and depending on how interesting it is, i will possibly post those entries when the week is over. because after all, it's not like anyone reads this thing anyway. ;)

baby ladies (and gentlemen)

So basically, it's that time of year where everyone I know is giving birth, getting pregnant, orr being pregnant.

Anyway, I just wanted to say CONGRATULATIONS and JOB WELL DONE to everyone who has recently had a child, adopted a child, got pregnant with child, or has been pregnant for awhile with a child. Even if you're just a surrogate.

I wanted to tell all of you that I recent saw this documentary about babies.

It's really really cute, if you like babies, and if you didn't like babies before, now you have one so you are forced to. so when you finally get a chance to get out of the house, I highly recommend it. It's cute, enlightening, and cute. SOOO CUTE.

[my blogs are so boring lately. and now you know why i haven't been doing it.]

my lovely new accessory

dear world,

i haven't blogged in forever so i thought i would let everyone know that i got a puppy finally.

she's a 5 pound Havanese named Lux.

Basically, being a doggy mom is as difficult as i had anticipated it to be. but i love her.

The good news is that i got her spayed before her first heat cycle so i will never have to deal with anything like AnDe and her husband did, as blogged about here. ;)

i've found myself having to refrain from making a status update about everything that she does. cause i don't want to be that girl. oh and i talk way annoying to her (i.e. "hey my little bubby booby baby puppy baby!!!"). so i'm just putting that out there.

and for all the haters, yes she was expensive. she was a GIFT to me from my boyfriend, who will someday share her with me, and basically already does. and i am so grateful for her, she has been a GREAT companion so far, and having her has practically cured my homesickness problem entirely.

anyway, bla bla bla. i love my puppy. and she's gorgeous. and she's not a fag Chihuahua. or a cat.

Look out Smoothie King.

[blog #10]

It may or may not seem like I talk about my boyfriend a lot. But at any rate, I would like to address this issue.

Taylor Giddens has a problem.

So, some people may say it's unreasonable to compare their boyfriend/fiancé/spouse to their dad.

Okay, well I don't do that, exactly.

But here's the thing, my dad always makes me smoothies in the morning. And I am not a huge smoothie fan, but these are delicious. Basically, I am a fan of everything my dad makes. Well, I mentioned to Taylor that I would like for him to make me smoothies like my dad. And he's actually been following through.

HOWEVER.

Before we left Utah, my father told us EXACTLY what he put in his smoothies. Strawberries, Banana, Frozen OJ, and Yogurt.

But Taylor, being an engineer of some sorts takes it upon himself to be extremely experimental.

I mean, I'm not saying that his smoothies have been totally gross.

But sometimes he will put some sort of hard liquor drink mix (minus the liquor), like pina colada or strawberry daquiri or whatever.

Today I believe he put in chocolate, somehow.

And he always puts in Corn Syrup, in spite of my wishes.

Tay, I love you, but when you tell me you kept it down to the basics for me that day, but then later tell me it has some random ingredient, it doesn't count as the basics.

Keeping with the theme of serious.

[Blog #9]

Just now I was thinking about stupid things that we do in our pasts.

Not like, mistakes per say, the way our minds worked in a certain time period. And how looking back, you almost feel embarrassed for yourself. Like the times you thought you knew everything, the times you thought you were in love, the times you thought the decision you were making was totally logical, or even the times you thought that outfit looked good.

I remember a time when I thought I knew everything because tragedy struck my life at a really inconvenient time. I was entitled to know everything. I also thought that because of my circumstance I was mature enough to know what it was like to be in love. And I was certain that I was in love with the boy with the guitar, when I was 15.

I remember a time when I thought my life was over because I was grounded during the weekend of the big game A time when I thought it would be cool to spend my whole junior year not caring about my appearance, by wearing pajamas and not brushing my hair. Oh and then I thought I was in love at least 3 more times during high school.

I remember when I was about to graduate high school, and I was laying on my bedroom floor and I was crying because I was certain that my family didn't love me anymore because of what a huge disappointment I was.

I remember a time when my happiness rested in my current man situation. A time when everything fell apart because I was living my life so irrationally for being the tender age of 18. And I was certain that there was nothing to live for. I remember finally turning to God because trying to hold everything up on my own was just unbearable.

I remember trying to get it right countless times, and still not having it perfected. But I remember finally accepting that giving it my best was good enough for the Lord and that Jesus would fill in the blanks with the power of the atonement.

And I remember finally knowing what it was like to be happy, really happy, being in the Gospel.

I remember learning that things would never be perfect or easy, but they would always fall into place, even if you had to struggle to get there.

My life as I know it, is in a constant state of change. Often times I long for consistency. But when I finally embrace it, I can see that truly the most beautiful fascinating thing any human being can experience is the challenge and struggle of life.

RE: Faith and Scriptures.

"I was thinking that sometimes when I am having a difficult finding the time/motivation for the kind of scripture study time that I would like to have I feel like I'm not giving myself a chance to build my faith and so I feel like it's in danger of dropping off. But I just had the realization that the scriptures are really more like an aid to our faith. They the revelations about the truths of the gospel that are important for us to understand in while we attempt to live the gospel and the context in which those revelations came, and also give us a record of how other people lived the gospel.

I feel like our main source of faith is from our lives, feeling the Holy Ghost from reading the scriptures or as we pray or while we're thinking about some gospel topics, or the love we feel as we hear others bear their testimonies. Undoubtedly, reading the scriptures gives more for our brains to chew on that can allow these spiritual experiences to take place, but maybe this realization may help me deal with the guilt that I sometimes trip myself with over never taking the time to become a scriptorian or learning Hebrew and Greek and Latin, or it remove the need I feel to tell myself that someday I'll take a few months break to catch up on all the institute/seminary lessons I missed (when I know that the possibility of having a chance to do that would be slim to none). But I guess the main thing is just that I don't let all the past scripture learning I've missed out on cause me to question my faith. My faith in God and His plan has come from my own feelings and thoughts and experiences.

That said, I owe much of that to the scriptures and really should work on my daily scripture study, and maybe think about adapting Pres. Eyring's method of paying more attention to what the Lord is doing in my life."

[blog #8]

There is always going to be something temporal that seems to be more important than something spiritual. Maybe not more important per say, but seemingly less forgiving. I.E. if you put off taking a huge test, there is really no second chance, where as the Lord will always give you second chances.

It's no secret that studying the scriptures daily has an array of fantastic benefits for your life and well being.

It's no secret that Latter Day Saints should know this, and prioritize accordingly.

BUT, we continue to put it off anyway. And we continue to write things and say things like "I need to study my scriptures more." The time has come to stop saying things and start doing things. And I mean that mostly for myself.

Because this isn't news, it's not some sort of sudden, new revelation that we need to read scriptures more, the scriptures are the foundation of our church, and we should treat it as such.

My favorite wet blanket.

[blog #7]

Today, is Easter. But it is also my favorite *now* 6 year olds birthday.

Trayton came into my life on 04/04/04, and I've loved him ever since.

I like to often let him know that he is my best friend. And sometimes, when I am feeling homesick, it's him I miss the most.

So, I could write forever about this little guy, but instead I'll just tell ya'll a little story about him.

One day Trayton (who was about 3 at the time) was at Subway after a doctor's appointment with his mom and his little brother. It was the lunch rush and a bunch of construction men were piling into this little establishment. Trayton was sitting at the table with his kin staring at all of the dirt covered and sweat drenched men, when he leaned over to his mom put her face in his hands, got right up in her face and said, "Mom, if I were you and I had your hair, and that shirt, I would be over there talking to all those guys."

If it was ever any wonder why I love him so much, wonder no more.

I don't like this crap!

[#6]

Welcome everyone to my long overdue blog tribute to the infamous BACON KID. aka King Curtis.

Bacon Kid was introduced to me a few months ago via YouTube videos such as this and this.

Well, I mean, I could go into elaborate detail about why this child is my TRUE. AMERICAN. HERO. but, it's not even necessary. This kid speaks for himself.

Here are some quotable quotes by the man of the hour:

"Now listen, I gotta tell you somethin', Bacon, IS GOOD FOR ME!"

"I don't like this crap!"

"She's gonna try to stop me, but she can't run in those little high heels."

"I had a very calm day until this, and then ol bump in the road comes along, and she be's sarcastic."

"Chicken nuggets, is like my family."

"No it will be like that burn when you run 30 miles and you're really hungry and you say 'Go Eat Some Vegetables.'"

"NO! I keep losing at deals and I don't wanna make a deal anymore, I AM LEAVING."

"You'll never, see this face, again."

"She thinks, out of the blue, she's a smart little girl, that she can do whatever she wants, NO.. that's not how we can do it in our family. She's acting like she's the queen and we're the sorry people."

Please support the little guy by joining the Bacon Kid group on facebook here.

You know what really grinds my gears?

[blog #5]

Recently, I've taken up two new arch nemeses.

Red wasps, and Atlanta traffic.

Let me take a couple of deep breaths and start from the top.

So at the beginning of this week, it's started to warm up in good ol Hotlanta, on account of the arrival of spring and what not. Which, spring time always ushers in a handful of insects (which I hate) and that includes bees. Now, just to give you some background, I HATE bees. I think I was stung once when I was 3, but I don't remember it. All I know is, I would like to live the rest of my life without being stung so I take some pretty dramatic measures to ensure my safety. (i.e. running, swatting, and screaming.) Anyway, as I was walking down the stairs to my car the other day I accidentally walked by some red wasps that looked like they were maybe building a hive on the side of the house, anyway, I kid you not, one of them CHASED me down to my car. Yes, chased me. And hovered around my car. And sometimes, they hang out by the door, like they're waiting for me, so I refuse to go the outside way unless it's dark, or I forget. THEN today, I was walking out of Taylors front door and one was waiting for me on the screen. I hurried down the porch steps and it went after me again, so there I was running and swatting like an idiot, and as cars drove by it looked like I was dancing like Elaine Benes, or insane, or both. I got in my car and drove off to go get Tay from school. When we got back I got out of the car and it was waiting for me sitting on the grass. Taylor saw it before I did and luckily, killed it. Well I think this pissed his family off because when I was loading my stuff into Tay's car and had to move my car one came and chased me, yet again, into my car and circled my car for a few minutes. I thought it was gone and when I got out it was on the roof of my car waiting for me, yet again. And I was chased back in the house. The traffic (which I will get to in a second.) was pretty horrendous on the way down to Valdosta today so we took a detour and we were in some random town stuck at a stop light when, whaddaya know? a RED WASP starts flying around the effing car. bastards.

Sometimes, I laugh at myself when I think of how I used to get upset at Utah County traffic. For all of my lovely Utah Residents reading this, the next time you are stuck in traffic and angry, please think to yourself "Kynslie has it so much worse right now." Because of traffic in Atlanta I have experienced the following, A 30 minute trek to my boyfriend's house, which normally would take about 8, a two hour trip to little five points which would normally take 20 minutes, a 8 hour trip home from Valdosta which would normally take 3 and a half hours, a 6 hour trip TO Valdosta today, once again, only taking 3 and a half normally. I spent 10 minutes at a traffic light today that I was just skipping over the left turn light. Rush hour starts at like freaking noon on Fridays. People are CONSTANTLY cutting each other off, very few people understand the concept of taking turns and putting on blinkers and being courteous. I mean they could just be out to get me because I have Utah plates, who knows? I've been saying this whole time, "People in Utah drive like idiots, people in ATL drive like straight up A-holes." (However, I will give them this, people here know how to work a roundabout, UNLIKE Utahns.) You guys, this is not a joke. The only way I keep myself sane and not completely angry is by way of rap music on the radio and quoting bacon kid, i.e. "YOU'RE ACTING LIKE YOU'RE THE QUEEN, and WE'RE THE SORRY PEOPLE!"

TRICKED YA!

[blog #4]

I am going to write something cool.

April Fools!

Here's a basic synopsis of my day:

Told people me and Taylor broke up.

Cleared up the joke for the believers.

Broke up with Taylor.

Bought him lunch for putting him through turmoil.

Helped my BFF come up with a trick for her husband.

Changed Taylor's status and profile picture.

Quit while I was ahead.

Went to improv.

Watched Jamie lick Jeff's beard.

Was to tired to care about write about something.

A blog about a dog.

[blog #3]

So about two blogs ago, I mentioned something about my desperate needs, and bla bla bla, i'm a whiny baby.

Well, what I was assigned to blog about today, was why I want a dog. So, I decided to be obedient for once.

I've been sitting here trying to come up with some valid reasons for wanting to take on the responsibility to care for a savage beast, like the one pictured here.

I suppose the easiest thing to do would be to create a TOP TEN REASONS I WANT A DOG list.

and here we go.

#1) I think dogs are cute. I really do. I mean, it's pretty unfair for me to say that ALL dogs are cute. But, I really like little fluffy dogs.

#2) I have the time. For once in my life, I actually have the time to care for a dog. Which was one of the biggest reasons that prevented me from doing so in the past.

#3) It will be difficult. I always give up on things that are difficult. Well, most things. I want to prove that I can push through something even if it is hard sometimes. Something that I voluntarily took on.

#4) I could take him on walks. Sure, I could go on walks without a dog. But in Buckhead you look a lot cooler pounding the pavement with a canine companion.

#5) The dog would never judge me. Sometimes, I have fits of jealous rage, or I dance like an idiot around my apartment. But my dog would love me in spite of my insecurities and deranged activities.

#6) I like to take care of people. So I assume I'd feel the same about a dog.

#7) Motherhood Preparation. Well, the biggest thing I've heard about having a puppy is that it's pretty much as big of a deal as having a baby. I'm sure that having a human child is a MUCH bigger responsibility, but to a degree, it would give me a general idea.

#8) Dog clothes and photo ops. I mean, my boyfriend is a photographer. And I'm like, reallt pretty. Me, the dog, and his cute little outfits, need I say more?

#9) Dog names. GUYS. I could ironically name my dog a human name, like Stan. or David. or Paul.

#10) I deserve it. Mostly because I understand that it will be difficult. And also because I'm cute. And I need a snuggle buddy for when Taylor spends long hours doing research.

Plinko, Plinko, Plinko.

[blog #2]

So, I guess I'm starting to wonder why I ask for blog topics when I'm just going to do my own anyway.

So I just wanted to write about plinko. Are you thinking WTF in your head right now? It's ok. Relax and I'll explain.

Last night as I was lying in bed, and I thought about how finding the person you're gonna marry is like playing plinko.

If any of you are human beings, you have had a sick day a time or two in your life, and if you're anything like me, you were able to catch the price is right at 9:00 AM. -ish.

The big favorite on that show was namely, Plinko.

If you are not familiar with the gameplay of plinko it goes as follows: the contestant is given one round flat disc, called a Plinko chip. One at a time, the contestant lays each Plinko chip flat against the top of the board and releases it. As the Plinko chip falls, it bounces throughout the matrix of pegs until it lands at the bottom of the board.

I mean, if you don't see where I am going with this then I have failed you all as a mother.

Essentially, we are the plinko chips, we start at the top and bounce our way down to the bottom. No matter where we start at the top, it's never certain where we'll end up.

Bouncing around those pegs can sometimes get a little uncomfortable, but when you finally slide into that ending slot and look to your left [or right] to see that perfect for your chip next to you, it made the whole bouncy journey, worth every second.

Where in the world is Kynslie Sandiego?

Pardon my french in my assumption, but you might say to yourself "Who the hell is Kynslie Sandiego?" Well, that's me. But I thought it would be clever because of Carmen Sandiego........

ANYWAY. So here's the deal. Taylor, my love, has challenged me to write a blog a day for 30 days. I don't blog nearly as much as I would consider ideal, so naturally, I accepted his challenge. The catch was that he would get to choose my blog topics. Unless I think they're lame. Then I'll opt out for something else. It doesn't matter, as long as I'm writing.

Well his topic for the day, was something about health care.

So, I've opted out. Because quite frankly, I don't want to put you to sleep. And who ISN'T blogging about health care right now?

Rather I will write to you (the universe?) about my life. That sounds vague, but it's specific.

I've gotten lost in my own shuffle.

It sounds a lot more dramatic and depressing than it actually is.

What I mean to say is that I have almost completely left behind my own life to become absorbed into someone else's. Sometimes I take a dip in the pool of nostalgia and pull out the good ol' yearbooks from highschool and it's nearly impossible for me to believe that was MY life. When I tell stories about things I did back in Utah, it seems so far away. Like it was more like something I read about than something I actually lived.

i feel like eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. [i never saw it, but i heard about it.]

So I'm here in Atlanta, and I am a stranger to people who are probably starved for information about me (primarily for gossiping purposes, OH YEAH, if you're the gossiper reading this, maybe this will help, STALKER! jk. it's flattering. i love you.) but in all honesty, sometimes I feel like a stranger to myself. Besides the life i've created for myself in the last 2 months.

But really, I know I lived, and I haven't forgotten my friends, family, and memories (even the ones I wish I could forget *cough* ex boyfriends *cough*) and I owe it all to:

FACEBOOK!

i love you taylor! :)