Picture post!

It's a rainy day, I haven't blogged about life's happenings in a while, and I have acquired quite a fabulous collection of fotos from the past 2 months or so . . . so here are some pictures. Enjoy.

Birthday eve: Fun with the exercise ball

Birthday eve: TOO MUCH fun with the exercise ball

Birthday eve visit from Matt Street. 

My birthday cake before it was baked

We tie-dyed the cake, icing, chip dip, and shirts. 

A piece of the cake

Every time we cut a new piece, it was a brand new surprise. So delightful.

We didn't want to dye each other.

The party wouldn't have been complete without Fruit Stripe gum (and the tattoos, of course)

Our Nacho party! We ate nachos and watched Nacho Libre. I lahved it.

We have a pretty large living room, and we didn't even really have room for everyone who came. It was the bayyst!

Josh and I made Nacho masks! Love this boy so much. He's fanTAstic!

Debra modeling the cape and mask. 

Anaconda squeeeeeze!

"Summon your eagle powers!"
"What do you think I am doing?!"

They are my . . . recreation clothes.

I had a really bad day a couple of weeks ago so Debra bought me some smiley face balloons. For reals y'all, I have the best roommates ever.

First prank of the Halloween season: Doughnut mountain by our door. 

. . . and in Maddie's bike basket. 

Conquering the pile of doughnuts. 

. . . Conquering the pile of doughnuts. 

Oh yeah, I forgot, they also left some milk. Mmmm. 

Remind me why I posted this? Oh yeah, because it's hilarious.  AND super flattering.

Sometimes Debra and I are hotties.

Other times we're in the air.

(Photo credits go to my dear sweet Madelane.)

In other news:

Last Friday night, Debra and I got bored and decided to go buy a couple of pet fish. We bought an Oranda (we named him Ron Weasley, since he has an orange head) and a Black Moor. We named that one Othello. (Tee hee, right?) Now, we picked Ron because he was very friendly in the tank. We put our finger up to it and when all the other fish swam away, Ron followed our fingers. He liked us! So he was a keeper. Othello won our hearts with his awkward shimmy-swim. He was kind of the runt, too, so of course he was cuter than the others. After we got home and put them in their bowl, Ron started spazzing out (I think it was because of his reflection) and swimming backward all the time. We kept a close eye on them on Saturday, but all we could see was that Othello seemed very happy and Ron did not. With further observation, I realized that Othello's head was heavier than the rest of him, which made him have to wiggle his fins in that really funny way to keep from having to swim with his head straight down. Great, I thought, we got the quirkiest fish! They won't be boring! Well since life with these fish couldn't be boring, we came home from church on Sunday and Othello was dead. That's right, we only kept him alive for a day and a half. He had sunk to the bottom head first, with the rest of his body straight up. Heavy headed Othello. It's too bad, because I liked him the most! We decided it was Ron's fault, so we renamed him Iago. Mostly I just call him "the fish," but whatevers. I just hope I'm a better parent to my real children someday.

Fall is here and it is oh so wonderful! Of course, it's no North Carolina autumn, but it's still great. Pumpkin spice hot chocolate has changed my world. I still haven't had enough free time to read for fun; I have given up on finding time to read Mockingjay and The Book Thief. I just can't justify reading for fun when my school work isn't done, and it never gets done until ridiculous hours of the night. I am craving a fun read, though, and I know once I pick it up I won't put it down. So Thanksgiving will be glorious.

My parents have finally found a house! I'm not sure how many of you were aware of the situation, but they had moved out of the house and were uncertain of where they were going to live. With Daddy's health and the finances the way they are, everything was very stressful and slow-moving. All the unknowns were killing me. I really just wanted to fly out there and help them, but all I could do from here was pray. But guess what? Prayers are answered for dang sure! I am so grateful for it, too.

I did an observation at the English Language Center the other day and it was such a good experience. It reconfirmed my decision to go into TESOL and reminded me why I loved the idea of it so much. Sometimes when I'm getting caught up with my classes and homework and the stress of everyday life, it's easy to lose sight of why I'm going through all of it. It was a nice reminder, and I am so excited to start applying the things I'm learning.

Maddie and Debra and I joined a dinner group. We meet Monday through Thursday every week, and there are about 10 of us. This means that apart from weekends, each of us only has to cook once every 2 weeks or so. And yet we still get awesome meals! I think it is one of the best decisions I've ever made. Aside from the fantastic food, the people in the group are just wonderful. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I LOVE MY WARD.

I got locked out of my house a couple of weeks ago without my shoes or phone. Luckily I have very kind neighbors! I was able to go over to the rental office and borrow a key so that I didn't have to pay 35 dollars to have someone come and open it for me. I used my watch as collateral and felt like I was in some sort of multi-million-dollar deal of some sort.

I am going through another Motown phase and every time a song by Stevie Wonder comes on my Pandora station I just can't help but grin for the rest of the day. And dance a lot.

I finally saw Toy Story 3 and cried my eyeballs out for the last 15 minutes.

Joey and I are going to see Ingrid Michaelson on Tuesday.  (!!!)

Life just gets more and more beautiful every day, that's all.

"No eyes that have seen beauty [or love] ever lose their sight."

My eyes. Eyeballs. Ojos. Crazy ojos. Light brown ojos. Honey ojos?

I used to want green eyes. Green eyes so that I could be pretty. Green eyes so they wouldn't be quite as commonly revered as blue eyes. See, I thought blue eyes were overrated, and the second-to-last thing I wanted was to have overrated eyes. And the last thing I wanted was to be underrated, and I thought people (mostly boys) hated brown eyes. But then my sister told me that the pattern in my irises looks like sunflowers. Sunflowers! Not poop! Sunflowers! Brown sunflowers. Not dead sunflowers. Brown sunflowers. And to this day I love having my brown eyes.

My eyes are like Daddy’s eyes. Daddy’s eyes that earned him the nickname “Hound Dog.” Mine are not quite as hounddoggish as his, or as beautiful, unfortunately. They kind of tilt down toward my cheeks on the outside corners, and there is a lot of space between my eyelid and brow, and the skin that’s there tends to slump over the outermost half of each eye, hence the “hound dog” appearance. I am lucky to only get bags under them when I am extremely tired, and even after crying they don't stay puffy too long.

I can cross my brown, slightly-hounddoggish eyes. Pair this up with my funny fat-lip face and even the grumpiest kid will probably laugh. I can open my eyes really wide and it kind of frightens people sometimes. I can leave one eye crossed and the other one normal. I can put them both toward the back of my head so you can't even see the pupils. I can shake my ojos so it looks like they're having an earthquake.

My eyes love to be closed sometimes because they like it when I get to rest. They like it when I let my ears and nose and imagination take over and carry the sensory load that sometimes exhausts the poor little eyes. They especially love to feel sunshine on their lids. But then my eyes love to be open because they like to see beautiful things like green trees covering mountains, autumn leaves, lilies in the spring and snow in the winter. And beautiful art and smiles and handsome men and cute puppies and happy families and loyal friends and baby feet with baby toenails.

My eyes love to see other eyes, to lock with them and share in the moments where those eyes are sad or scared or worried, or just so happy that they can't hold back tears. Most of all they like to see the way people love. They love seeing the small gestures of affection: enormous hugs, Sacrament Meeting back scratches, Eskimo kisses, a friendly kick in the rear, a smile for no apparent reason, old people holding hands, young people holding hands. Of course, they get really jealous of people holding hands too, but mostly they just love it.

My eyes can help me perceive all the temporal beauty in the world, and with the help of my heart they see the physically imperceptible: goodness, joy, and love.

My eyes are one of my greatest blessings, for they allow me to see all of the others.

How are your headparts a blessing in your life?

"The eyebrows form but a small part of the face, and yet they can [lighten] the whole of life by the [delight] they express." -- some Athenian philosopher

Eyebrows. Eyebrowls. Mine are the same color as my hair (What color did I decide to call that? Wheaten?), and it's kind of weird because sometimes you can't see them in pictures. But I don't have to pluck them as often, and I have no mono-brow/uni-brow. You-knee-browl.

I can raise both of them at the same time. I can furrow both of them at the same time. I can raise my left one really high while I furrow my right one really low. I can make a lame attempt at doing that with my right eyebrow up. What really gets people going is when I make a wave with my eyebrows whilst wiggling my ears and, you guessed it, flaring my nostrils. Just wait till they see me pat my head and rub my belly too.

My eyebrows are a blessing.

High heels were invented by a woman who had been kissed on the forehead.

From my cheeks we'll slide on up my temples to my forehead. When I had that pre-ceding hairline as a kid, it was more like a fivehead -- it still is, in the places where I have cowlicks -- but for the most part it's just a normal forehead. The left side is usually covered by my bangs and the right half is exposed for . . . for what purpose? I'm not really sure. Still, like my chin, my forehead helps me rest in class -- though it's more for when I don't care about being inconspicuous.

My forehead is a major player in my snuggle maneuver and it’s great for resting on people’s shoulders when I’m sad, sleepy, silly or bashful. When it meets up with another forehead . . . suffice it to say that I believe in magic. Best of all, it tells me how hot I am!

My forehead is a blessing.

O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!

So, about my cheeks. They are kind of chubby. I have no idea whether to classify my zygomatic bones as classically beautiful and high or . . . low. I only know that they are there. They are there and they are chubby and they are where I get most of my acne. No, it's not attractive, but it's honest.

My cheeks are also home to a few freckles though, and I kind of like those little guys! That's where Mama and Daddy still give me kisses. And where I can slap my hands to show you the best Kevin McCallister impersonation you ever did see.

I can flick them with my jaw wide open and try to make a raindrop sound, and I can slide my finger from the inside of it really fast and do a great rendition of that "Lollipop" song. I can bite down on the insides and make great fishy faces, too. When I puff my cheeks out really far I can talk without moving my mouth. Unlike my chin, my cheeks don't tell too much about what's going on in my head. They do go white when I have a needle in me, but they're pretty loyal and don't give away my embarrassment too much.

My cheeks are a blessing.