the tenth thing.

I thought of one today while we were talking in Speech Anatomy about class II and III malocclusions.

10. I corrected my own underbite when I was 6.

3.10.13

You are special. You are strong. And someone out there loves you very much. You might not believe me. But you should. The world can work against you. But don't you dare give in to it. Don't you ever give up. You are so special, and you are so strong. Anyone who tells you otherwise is dead wrong. And don't you ever forget it.

nine things because i couldn't think of ten aka some useless shiz and me bragging about myself.

1. I got second place my freshman year of college in a game of Assassins. And 85 bucks.
2. I am fluent in English BUT I also have a working knowledge of Spanish and French and can sign a little.
3. I won the school-wide spelling bee in both the fourth and fifth grades.
4. I designed and sewed both my prom dresses.
5. I used to write music when I was sad. So I compiled a whole CD of my depressing memoirs.
6. I can't sleep unless I'm holding onto something.
7. I cut hair. Only boys' hair. And only in one style. And it usually involves a return trip so I can clean up the pieces I missed. But I sure can wield them clippers.
8. I pop my wrists.
9. I can't go anywhere without my CamelBak.

copland.

The first concert I ever attended was the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra's performance of Aaron Copland's Rodeo. I was 6. And I fell in love. Tonight I heard the Utah Symphony perform Appalachian Spring. And I couldn't stop grinning. (Teared up, too, nbd.) The conductor turned the last page so tenderly that I could feel such a reverence for the music just emanating from him. It was almost as if he were paying his respects to Aaron right there. And he did him proud, too. They always say that music is another kind of language, one that touches the soul, and all that sappy stuff. But seriously. Copland gets me every time.

i took the gre.

And failed miserably. But it's totally fine, I'm not even mad. No life lessons here. But sometimes it's good to just relax. Just take some R&R. Watch some trashy TV and eat ice cream and Oreos with peanut butter. It's fine. Go do it.

foods i want to eat but can't.

Every minute, at least 10 different foods run through my head and I just want to eat them all. But, even though the swelling has gone down, I am still reduced to eating soupy mashed potatoes with chunks of a cheese stick melted in for added flavor. Anyways, if I were allowed to chew, here's what I'd eat.

+ pizza
+ pasta
+ bread
+ chicken parmesan
+ italian food of any kind
+ sushi
+ orange chicken
+ chips and salsa
+ chips of any kind
+ steak
+ chicken
+ fried catfish
+ a hamburger
+ a turkey burger
+ meat of any kind
+ those cookies in the bookstore
+ cake
+ brownies even though I don't like chocolate
+ cookies
+ cookies
+ cookies
+ something other than smoothies
+ something other than ramen with the noodles all cut up
+ something other than soupy mashed potatoes
+ cookies

Anyone else sensing a trend here? Yes, I am the biggest baby.

search bar lately.

"oliver trask the o.c. steinbeck"
"crepuscular"
"law of moses priest"
"seppuku"
"strong's exhaustive concordance"
"luke 1:25 reproach greek"
"byu international cinema"
"cake mix cookies"

pity party/thank you.

So. I got part of me extracted two days ago. My wisdom teeth, to be exact. Not even a big deal. But I came out of the anesthesia bawling my eyes out about nothing in particular. (So, to answer my question as to what kind of drunk I'd be... The hysterical, histrionic, cry-my-eyes-out kind. Awesome.) I came home and promptly threw up blood. Out of my nose, too. It was fantastic. After a nap, I got up and had to lay on the floor. I started blacking out. But as soon as I could get up, I heard a knock on the door. It was my friend DP. I knew he was an answer to a prayer, but it hadn't been mine. So. Whoever you are, thank you.

And to the rest of you, go enjoy chewing something for me today.

plane buddies.

Ever had a conversation with someone on a plane? I'm always worried to start talking to people because I'm not the greatest conversationalist and because it's just awkward when you want to read your book or something. But, no lie, yesterday I talked to a guy on the plane for the entire 3 hours and 47 minutes from home. Yes, we're getting married. Just kidding. He was a Mormon missionary coming home for the first time in two years. And it was nice to just talk to someone. No worrying what he wanted from me, no awkward moments, just a nice chat to take my mind off the flight back and the consequent re-acclimation to the current status of my social life. (Non-existent.) It was really nice to take my mind off my own problems for a bit. When I turned around to say goodbye after getting off the plane, he was gone. And that was that. I wish I'd say goodbye, or at least good luck in life, but he was gone. It was a blessing to have had someone there. Even when I feel my worst, someone is looking out for me.

AA.

I always forget, until I walk past a bar at a restaurant, that the familiar smell I have smelled on AH's breath all these years is alcohol. Reality is sobering.