HOWLOWEEN

What a night!

Oh goodness y'all, no joke I had the time of my life.

Kind of.

Last night happened to be USU's annual incredibly amazing Halloween Party aka

{THE HOWL}

As my idol Stefan would say:

This place has everything!

Stilts

Rubber chickens

Men wearing nothing but fig leaves

And tons of freezing cold air.
Be jealous.

( Adorable McKenna, Gypsy Emily, and Me as a fairy)

The Howl was an adventure right from the start.
Me and my three friends walked the three blocks from my apartment to the building where The Howl was being held only to discover that to buy tickets we had to walk two and a half blocks away to the Basketball Stadium.
We scampered, fast like little rabbits, purchased ourselves some tickets, and then walked the two blocks back to the Howl.
Once we finally got in, holy poop it was a party.
The entire building was completely full of people,
they were EVERYWHERE!
Tall people, short people, fully clothed people, half naked people, more than half naked people, this place was crazy.
I had a bunch of friends who had gotten there earlier who wanted me to meet up with them at the dance, so on to the dance we went. It took us ten minutes to get in- the line was CRAZY, and when we finally did get in- things got even crazier.

Now when I see a crowd- I'm not the kind of girl who just dances on the edge- I dive right in. So we did. We were packed so tight in there that you could barely move, but we did our best and tried to dance. After a few minutes some guys came up and asked if they could dance with us, I said sure.
Big Mistake.
One of the guys grabbed my hips, pulled me super close to him, and proceeded to rub his hands all sorts of all over my butt.
Um. Awkward.
His friend was doing similar things to Emily who also felt her personal space bubble had just been popped to the max. The four of us girls sneaked away through the crowd, away from the Octopus men,
and right in the middle of a fist-fight.
'Twas scary my friends.
Very scary indeed.
Two very large men were both all sorts of upset and were being poorly restrained by their friends. One of them stepped on my foot.
It hurt.
Eventually they got calmed down, the dancing resumed, and me and my gals decided we'd had quite enough.
So we left.
And found this awesome snake man.

Holy poop y'all, we tote's loved that snake.
His name was Malfoy- which is most definitely one of the coolest snake names of all time.
Kudos snake man.

My BFF Jackie loved him too.

Also I love the snake-man's creeper face.

After we spent the better part of 20 minutes annoying the crap out of the snake man- we went and saw the band Cartel.

As you can clearly see, they are as a whole incredibly attractive.

Especially the adorable lead singer.

The concert was pretty much a blast, and they had their bass turned up so loud that my ears are still a little fuzzy.

It was good times.

When it was over, we decided we'd mostly had enough. So we mostly just meandered around.

then Then THEN!

-The greatest moment of my life happened:

That's right

I met the one

the only

Captain Jack Sparrow.

Basically, my life is now complete.

Be so jealous right now.

When we finally left the Howl, we spent 40 minutes searching all over 2 different parking terraces for Jackie's car. The dear, darling girl forgot where it was.

When we finally found it and were leaving the parking terrace, we saw a group of very attractive, very shirtless, very cold sailor's.

They saw us drive up, saw that we were girls, and begged us to drive them to their car.

We're nice, and they were babes.

So we did.

They were hilarious,

and I wish I had thought to take a picture so you could see just how gorgeous they were.

You'll just have to imagine as best you can.

So there you have it folks.

The Howl 2011

I'll see you there next year!

The End.

 

Captain Freaking America

So...I'm incredibly behind on the times

And barely saw Captain America.

I never had the time to see it in theaters

So I had to wait until now and let me tell you

I was missing out.

I absolutely loved it.

Captain America is awesome because despite all of his glorious (and I mean super-ultra-mega-glorious) ab muscles, and rippling pectoral muscles, and his gigantic arms that are bigger than me- he's really just an incredibly sweet, teeny guy that wants to help people.

Batman is awesome, but Bruce Wayne....kind of a douche.

Superman is Jesus. And an alien.

Spiderman is a wuss, Peter Parker doubly so.

Thor is a babe, but I think his hammer is kind of silly.

and Iron man is just a rich jerk.

I mean, they do good and all, but none of them are as innocently good as Captain America is.

If that makes sense.

They have all this power and all this money and all this spider venom and hammers and whatnot, so it's their duty to do good.

Captain America was doing good way back when he was just a teeny little nobody that got beat up all the time.

That's why I like him.

And the fact that Stanley Tucci transmogrifies him into a giant delicious hunk of man is merely a perk.

He was a superhero way before that.

If you haven't seen it yet,do it. Right now.

Right this second go buy it.

 You won't regret it.

The End



On Fire!

So remember my last post?

All sorts of whining and complaining about how bad of a person I am?

Let's just pretend that didn't happen.

I am a deeply flawed chicken,

but I apologize for making you listen to my silliness.

This week, I have turned over a new leaf.

I've been waking up early

(for me early is seven, don't judge)

I've actually gone to all of my classes

(I like to skip institute, I know- I'm a horrible sinner)

I've tried not to procrastinate on my homework

(which means doing it the night before instead of 20 minutes before)

I've been eating healthier

(except those cookies my roommate made. I couldn't resist)

I've been reading my scriptures

( 2nd Nephi baby!)

I've been exercising

(today I actually went to the gym! Me! The gym!!)

I know this prolly isn't a huge deal to all you people that are perfect. Especially since today is only Wednesday,but

I

Feel

Awesome.

I feel like I could wrestle an alligator

or climb Mt. Everest

or fly.

The End.

I Am One Deeply Flawed Chicken

I need to be better you guys.

I need to be kinder

More patient

More dedicated

More giving.

I need to spend more time exercising

and doing homework

And much much MUCH less time

on pinterest

And facebook

and youtube

and netflix.

I need to eat more vegetables

And less sour cream and onion lays

no matter how delicious they are.

I need to stop gossiping.

Take a leaf out of my good friend Thumper's book

And only say kind things about others.

I need to spend less time wishing I lived in Middle Earth,

or at Hogwarts,

or in a Jane Austen novel.

I need to stop biting my fingernails.

I need to stop whining and pouting about my lack of a love life.

And just suck it up missy.

I need to stop sleeping in until 10 every day,

and actually do something with my life.

I need to be more organized.

I need to stop buying clothes instead of groceries.

I need to stop staying up until one in the morning.

I need to finish the things I start.

Ugh.

I am one deeply flawed chicken.



Prose

I know y'all are probably sick of me posting silly poems on here,

but this is my blog.

So.

Tough nuggets.

I haven't come up with a title for this one yet,

but here goes:

Here I stand

Yep.

Two feet firmly planted

Holding up two legs

with the rest of me balanced on top.

Anyone could look at me and say,

"That girl, she's standing"

"But what?"

I ask myself

"Am I standing for?"

Freedom? Equality?

Faith?

Life?

The right to bear arms?

The right to bare arms?

Or simply the right

To be happy

And do my best

To make others happy

Too.

I only hope

That whatever I stand for

Is important enough to someone

that they will one day

find this place

And say

Maybe to a friend

to a grandchild

Or just softly to themselves,

It was here.

Here, she stood.

 

Before I'm Dead

So disclaimer:

{I LOVE LISTS}

Every chance I get to make a list, is a chance that I will take.

Today's list:

my bucket list.

Here goes:

1. Ride an Elephant
2. Live in China
3. Kiss someone on top of the Eiffel Tower
4. Get married
5. Eat escargot
6. Sing on stage
7. Get Johnny Depp's autograph
8. Get a teaching degree
9. Go skiing
10. Write a book
11. Own a snake
12. Name the snake "Gertrude"
13. Have a family
14. Go skinny dipping
15. Go to Harry Potter World
16. Go skydiving
17. Climb up a really really high mountain
18. Swim with sharks (but NEVER with dolphins)
19. Save someone's life
20. Solve a rubix cube in under a minute
21. Pet a real live tiger
22. See "The Killers" in concert
23. Fall in love (the epic kind)
24. Go to New Zealand (and all the places they filmed LOTR)
25. Make as many people as I can happy

But mostly, I guess, I just want to live a full enough life that I can look back at the end of it without regret. If I can do that, I'll be perfectly content.

BON VOYAGE!!

Some of you may judge me for the tale I'm about to tell.

Do it.

I don't give a flying fart in space.

Today, I was a participant in the great, the chaotic, the hilarious,

2011 Mouse-Boat Races!

Yes.
We bulit boats.

Put mice in them.

And raced them down a river.

This was my boat.

It is made out of styrofoam, popsicle sticks, ribbon, and hope.

It was without a doubt the cutest boat there.

Myself, and my fellow boat builders.

Our fearless seafarers

The captain readying his ship.

Our ship and sailor, readying for departure.

I didn't ever officially name our mouse,

but in retrospect... I like the sound of

Captain Whipwhiskers

And they're off!!!

Navigating through terrible rapids.

So far Cap'n Whipwhiskers is holding steady in second place.

Then, tragedy struck when the boat capsized.

We can only hope that the good Captain was wise enough to swim to shore.

If not, we mourn his loss.

This boat was the ultimate champion.

It's a big shoe box with water bottles stuck onto the bottom.

As far as rodent-vessels go- it was pretty much bad-A.

3 out of 5 mice-sailors made it out alive.

Cap'n Whipwhiskers and one other were the only casualties.

This brave youngster seems quite unphased by the whole ordeal.

Bless his little whiskered soul.

{All in All}

It was a hilarious endeavor that I thoroughly enjoyed.

If you are ever bored

And you have extra mice,

I heartily suggest that you do this.

THE END.

Magic in The Air

Today started out dreary.

I had to wake up at seven.

SEVEN!

I NEVER have to get up that early!!

I drug myself out of my bed,

frankenstein marched to the shower,

and then tried to stay awake while I shaved my legs.

The reason for my incredibly-too-early awakening,

was that I started volunteering to teach kindergarteners to read at the elementary school on campus.

Nothing is cuter than kindergarteners.

I read with a little girl named Lena who was wearing a hat shaped like a kitten.

She was adorable.

Also a little boy named Steven who thought his books were 

"super too" easy.

He was wearing camo pants and yellow crocs.

I loved them.

While they day was good, I only had two classes and nothing exciting happened in either one, I coudn't help but feel a little down in the dumps.

Summer is gone.

The warm sunshine is gone.

And while it is incredibly pathetic of me, I can't deny that I'm still a little disappointed in my lack of a romantic life.

One thing was for certain.

I wasn't feeling any magic.

But.

While I was sprawled out on my couch, eating ice cream and watching Sense and Sensibility, I glanced out the window and saw this:

The brightest, biggest, most beautiful rainbow I'd ever seen in my life.

It absolutely took my breath away...

The world is full of magic.

I'm glad nature took the time to help me see it.



I spy. At my house.

On this day, if you were to take a leisurely stroll through my apartment....

This is merely a taste of the wonders you would behold.

Haydn's ADORABLE owl salt and pepper shakers.

Chicken Tuscana with Angel Hair Pasta

(That I totally made myself)

The cutest and most delicious cupcakes in the world.

My roomies are the best bakers.

The top of Haydn's dresser in our room.

I think it looks like a magical land.

A mini-magical land.

Our Harry Potter cupboard.

The trapdoor under there does not lead to Narnia.

But it is very handy if we ever need to bug our neighbors!

Or hide dead bodies....

My sombrero. I'm almost positive that Richard Sharrah wears the exact same one in one of the Kid History episodes.

Since I'm going to marry him, I notice these things.

We used to call this the Ugly Corner.

Now we call it the nap corner, this chair makes for the comfiest naps of your life. no joke.

My roommate Elise painted the Audrey Hepburn painting.

I love it.

My fish Heathcliff Rochester Darcy's abode.

Yes, that is Squidward's house.

My fish are legit.

Some mostly-beautiful-but-also-slightly-terrifying art left on our fridge by our good friend Evan Kirby.

I added the mohawk.

A battle of love between my roomies Lea and Kristina.

And also Stargirl magnets.

{MOSTLY}

I love my apartment.

And my roomies.

And my life.

The End.



Barmy

I was trying to think of something clever and possibly alliterative to name this post.

I couldn't think of anything, so I turned to my trusty friend

The Thesaurus.

(FYI, a thesaurus is NOT what Dinosaurs called each other)

Dino 1: "Hey, who's thesaurus over there?"

Dino 2: "Oh you know, he's thesaurus we met when we ate that triceratops last week."

But don't feel sheepish if that's what you thought it was until 4th grade. You're not alone.

Anyway...I looked up "crazy" in the thesaurus, and I found the word Barmy.

It's my new favorite word.

I have several phobias that can definitely be described as barmy.

They are as follows:

Number One

Chihuahuas

I know what you're thinking.

Chihuahua's? Really?

THey just sit there with their huge buggy eyes and shake!

How is that scary???

Notice that I said ChihuhuaS meaning more than one.

One chihuahua is nothing, but once you get two or more, they form this little pack and become evil.

No joke.

If I see chihuahuas, I freak out.

WHich is bad, because they can smell fear.

Number Two

Dolphins

Dolphins swim up on shore and rape people.

Also, they're always smiling at you like they know something.

It freaks me out.

Number Three

Other People's Bathrooms

I'm fine with public bathrooms, but I hate Hate HATE using the bathrooms in people's houses.

 I'm always afraid that I'll either break something, or that a serial killer is hiding behind the shower curtain.

Number Four

Venus Flytraps

What if I accidentally put my hand too close and it tries to chomp it off?

Number Five

Aliens

I watched this movie once about this lady whose daughter was abducted by aliens.

They voip you out of your bed, and do freaky experiments on you.

But the worst part? They give you alien ruffies so you can't remember any of it.

Vulcans don't count as aliens though.

I love Vulcans.

Number Six

Clowns

When I was little, my grandparents took me to the circus.

There were clowns there.

One was this sad little clown, with golf balls in his cheeks, holding a sign that said

"Kisses, 10 cents"

My grandma made me kiss the clown.

I was traumatized for the rest of my life.

Number Seven

Childbirth

I don't know how in the world women go through this.

It sounds like the most horrible, painful, traumatizing thing in the world.

I'll just skip it, and adopt Asian babies.

Number Eight

Falling

I hate hate hate hate HATE it.
This is why I never ride The Rocket.

And I'm very wary of cliffs.

And stairs.

Number Nine

Robots

I am Robot.

Terminator.

Decepticons

The Day The Earth Stood Still

How many times do we have to watch the same story before we realize that robots will ultimately be the destruction of humanity?

The only good robots are Wall:E, Eva, and R2D2

The rest are just jerks

Number Ten

The Joker

Mostly just the Heath Ledger Joker.

He still gives me nightmares.

THe Jack Nicholson Joker just makes me laugh.

{SO}

There you have it.

My barmy fears.

Mock me if you will

But don't come crying to me when you're attacked by a chihuahua.

Or a robot.

The End.

Ten Hut! :)

I know it's hard to believe,

But I haven't always been the incredibly attractive,happy, bubbly, giggly, friendly gal that I am now.

I used to be a very angry person.

I had been convinced by the people that I thought were my friends, that I was not good, or smart, or pretty, or rich enough to matter.

Ergo, was labeled as a "loser" and tossed in the social outcast heap.

For those of you who have been through similar situations,

You know how horrible this feels.

Feeling like you'll never be good enough for anyone or anything.

Wishing you could steal a certain wizard's invisibility cloak and never have to face your peers.

I was miserable.

I hated everything and everyone,

And I didn't know how to change it.

{Then}

I met this amazing girl who taught me probably the most important thing I've ever learned:

As long as you think you're hot stuff, other people's opinions aren't worth poop.

My life drastically changed.

For the first time in a really long time, I let myself be happy.

And it was great.

But.

I still hadn't found my place, my niche.

The place that I really, truly belonged.

And would always belong. 

As the summer before my sophomore year of high school started, I decided that I needed to do something different.

Take a risk.

Do something wild.

So, at the insistance of one of my friends, I joined the marching band.

From the moment I first stepped on the field,

I knew.

I had found my place.

All of these people had been through almost exactly the same things I had; they knew how I felt, knew what I was going through and they instantly accepted me into their gloriously dorky family.

Over the next three years, my band literally became my family.

I laughed with them

Cried with them

Partied with them

Went to prom with them

Spent hundreds of hours on cramped busses with them

And I loved every second of it.

Now we're all graduated and moved on.

Scattered across the globe by missions, marriage, and school.

And though it's been years since I've seen or spoken to some of them, I know that they're still my family.

And whether it's my wedding, my baby shower, or even just my birthday

I know they'll always be there.

Because that's what familes are for.

My marching Tigers, thank you so much for everything.

You'll never know hom much you changed my life.

I love you all.

My name is Brittany, and I am a ginger.

There are many words that have been used to describe me.

Daughter Friend Happy Weird

Lame Crazy BORING

Silly BFF bandtasmic whore

 Leprechaun DRUMMER wench

midget babe trekkie

sweet pirate AGGIE

 nerd MORMON roommate

Quite the list eh?

Well I'm not done yet, there is one more word that is used to describe me. It is used affectionately, disdainfully, discriminately, categorically, fearfully, and overly too often.

Over my almost-twenty years of life I have been called this almost as often as I've been called my own name.

That's right ladies and gentlemen.

I am

A

{Ginger}

According to my dictionary, "ginger" can mean any of the following:

• a reedlike plant, Zingiber officinale, native to the East Indies but now cultivated in most tropical countries, having a pungent, spicy rhizome used in cookery and medicine.
• piquancy; animation: plenty of ginger in their performance of the dance.
• a yellowish or reddish brown

According to urbandictionary.com, a ginger is described as:

A human, characterized by pale skin, freckles and bright red hair. "Gingers" are generally considered to be inferior to their more melanin-rich brethren, and thus deservingly discriminated against. Gingers are thought to have no souls. The condition, "gingervitis" is genetic and incurable. Since there is obviously some discrepancy here, I think it is my duty as a proud Ginger to set the record straight. {Gingers are awesome} My proof?

See? the ginger category is where many of the coolest people in the world reside, myself included.
And yes: I can't walk outside without spf 9000 sunscreen on, I can play dot-to-dot with my freckles, I can't wear pink, and I am constantly mocked by the rest of society.
BUT
I think it a small price to pay to be this awesome.

AND
 I have been told at least 1789046352.12 times that I have the most beautiful hair in the world and that I should never dye it.

My conclusion?
All you haters out there are just jealous.
Because gingers are sexier than you.
Ha.

HA HA HA!

{The End}