25.6.09

RIP


This one goes the the King of Pop.

I don't care what anyone says. You were a genius. One of the biggest influences on music. One of the biggest influences on my childhood. See you on the other side buddy.

(There were 15+ feeds in a row on my facebook about his death. Guess Im not the only one that will miss him)

23.6.09

Ostrich Effect

When playing hide and seek with a 4 year old, the best place to look is usually right in front of you. I guess they get all flustered while you are counting, and can't find a place, so they panic and stay where they are and maybe put a blanket on their head, but usually just cover their eyes. You see, if they can't see you, you can't see them, much like an ostrich hiding their head in the sand.



I find that as and adult, I still use this method. When I don't want something to be there, I just close my eyes and Vuala! It's gone. I use this method to hide from something scary, or after embarrassing myself, and sometimes when I see someone that I don't want to talk to. If I look away or merely close my eyes, they vanish and I don't have to have the awkward conversation with my best friend's Ex.


The idea behind this is, if you don't see it, it's not there. I find that this is the most effective strategy to avoid all problems; bad grades, low fund-age in my bank account, contention with roommates, and doing my laundry. If I don't look, it's not there. Problem solved. Riiiiiiiiight?

21.6.09

I'm Addicted To You

I don't like to post about the actual events in my life because let's face it, no one really cares what I did all week. I'll save it for my journal. Today is an exception because I had the most AMAZNG weekend. I found a new love. Canyonero, I mean Canyoneering.


Seriously one of the most exausting weekends of my life, but so rewarding. We did 4 canyons with 16 rapels, 7 waterfalls, cliff jumping, the birth canal, too many slots to count where we would squeeze through gaps where the walls were just wide enough to side step through and drop down 15 ft without a rope, using just the friction from our bodies on the rocks.




I am sore, cut, bruised, zitty, I have cold sores, I got hives, didn't have a bathroom or shower and went 3 days without a diet coke.

This may have been the best weekend of my life

15.6.09

I don't think I want to think about it

This pretty much describes how I feel about a lot of things these days...

10.6.09

Disclaimer

*Yesterday I was hoped on meds and thought I was really funny so I wrote a lot of blogs. By the time I was done, I couldn't hardly see anymore, so I didn't trust my judgement to actually post them (hence the missing Lindsey Parisio). I think I will still post them, but just know that I was not using proper judgement when I wrote them*

8.6.09

Textual Relations

I would like to address how technology has taken over our lives. With the advance in technology, we now have well over 10 ways to communicate with each other, with everything from telegrams to video chat. You would think that by having so many opportunities to get to know someone, we would be closer and conversation would flow more easily in person. Yet, I find this to be the opposite of what actually happens.

We become so comfortable hiding behind our cyber masks, that face to face becomes awkward and forced. You have to actually be yourself, instead of the person you invented, and you actually have to think on your toes. You don't have time to write and rewrite the perfect message. These are dangerous grounds.

All I'm sayin is when participating in textual relations, be careful. Use Protection.

4.6.09

Bratz

Boyz love bratz. And I'm not talkin the doll


This has always been a mystery to me. Something about waiting an extra 45 minutes for a date, or being forced to take them somewhere else when there is something wrong with the atmosphere really peaks a guy's interest. I don't get it. I always thought by being the laid back, nice girl, that I was better than the bratz. But for some reason, the bratz always have boyz knockin down the door, and I'm stuck with a *frush.

After much research and discussion with my guys in the friend zone, I have come to a conclusion; I think it has something to do with making them happy. They feel satisfied and manly if they can somehow appease the brat. I think it has something to do with feeling needed, or being the one to tame the beast. I compare this to my fasination with shy boyz. I love being the one that can break them out of their shell, and being the only one that really knows what they're thinking.

So this brings me to the dilemma at hand. Is it worth being a brat to get a boyfriend? Or am I doomed to be a 23 year old friend?



*Frush: When one develops strong feelings for a friend. Feelings are often left unsaid, and nothing usually comes of it.

WARNING: If addressed, frushes usually ruin friendships, and can make things really weird.

3.6.09

My Family Tree

I love my family. Apparently I talk about them a lot. You would too if they were yours. Sometimes it can be a bit confusing because it sounds like I have a hundred brothers and 56 sisters that all do different things. Here is a key to help determine who is who...

These two right here
started it all...







I have a brother named Duff. His real name is Daniel, but because that's my dad's name, he has never gone by it. Duff is the funny one. Okay, we're all the funny one, don't tell Duff though. Duff is the oldest, and loves Michael Jackson. Went to Ricks, met Keirra, they were married and moved back to UP. They currently live 2 houses from my parents. They have 4 girls, including their oldest, Emma, who is the closest thing I have to a younger sibling.


Next is Anna who is married to Brandon Parker. They have known each other since they were 12, and were married after a summer of dating and a 10 day engagement so that she could join him at BYU-Idaho. The only grandsons in the family are the product of these 2 (about 15 months apart). Lucky for Anna their oldest, Isla, is a good helper. Anna has great style and is my running/shopping/diet coke partner when I go home because she lives only .3 miles from my parents.

This is Kjrsten (with a J) and her husband Peter. She is a budding photographer, who I get most of my music from and still goes to Sasquatch even though Pete is pushing 40. (JK pete) I love going to Portland to visit the Madsens and their 3 girls. Kjrst, with Anna's help, started the CuteDay blog. She too is very stylish and may not be able to paint like our mom, but she expresses herself through her clothes.

I have a brother. His name is Keith. In Feb, he married a half cuban girl, his Carribean Queen. Her name is Jenny Jones, related to Mike Jones. I have a brother that started Platinum. He used to live in Rexburg and I was his slave (for a price) where I did everything from his laundry to running errands and sending faxes. Now he lives in Provo where I have my own "wing" (Okay, they couldn't get their furniture into the master bedroom because of the angles, so it is the guest room). Keith is indecisive, and if a cupcake is involved, can be persuaded into anything. He loves Yahtzee and got us all into Pearl Jam.


These are the A's. Not the athletes, Andrew and Alexis. They started off by having a textual relationship while Andrew was driving truck here in Idaho. Last August they were married, and now they are living in SanDiego, but will be back in Provo in the fall. They often meet up with me for shows in SLC. They are the musicians. Andrew is "secretly funny" and is the closest to my age, Together, we used to be known as "the geeks". He is 6'4, though our mom will debate that he is at least 6'6.



And, that's it. I hope this helped...

1.6.09

I need a diet coke... STAT!

This little friend is the 1/2 gallon, Mega Jug from KFC. I think it is meant to be used more like a pitcher for family meals than personal beverages. I got one just for me....



The last couple days, I have had over 80 oz of Diet coke. A day. I think I'm addicted. I told myself I'd never be one of those people.... But no, I will not quit Diet Coke. Not now anyway, it is far too delicious. But I think I have a serious problem. Perhaps I'll ween myself to a measly daily dose of 44 oz.