wishlist

Update: Sherlock Holmes has been purchased for me. Probably by some jag who agreed no Christmas presents in the first place.
Update #2: I got my Toms and a beautiful blue cashmere sweater for Christmas! Thank you to my mom and grandparents.

For all of you who feel socially obligated to get me a Christmas/birthday gift (my birthday is January 11th, by the way), I have made your life easier by making this wish list. This way you can know for sure I will love what you get me. And I will love what you get me. It's a win-win, really.

*Note: most of this stuff is kind of pricey. I am sorry about that. I just don't see the point of giving you a bunch of cheap things that would work as presents when I could give you a list of things I would absolutely love. Nobody has to buy me any of this, I will not be offended. You can just use this as inspiration for the kinds of things I want. Or you can just kick me in the head and call that a present. 


Double note: all links are direct links to the specific product.

black stonewashed cord women's classics. i am an 8.5. available at nordstrom or from toms

leather riding boots. 8.5-9. these are from lucky.

i love everything about this. from fossil. this bigger one is possibly more awesome, but i can't decide.

cashmere sweater. shown: in amethyst from nordstrom 

this is one of the best movies i've seen in a while. available from amazon for like $9.

that's all i can think of at the moment. i also enjoy books and jewelry. every girl likes jewelry. 

i feel like this list makes me look really shallow. but if you're reading this, you're planning on getting me things anyway, right? you are going to spend money no matter what i say, aren't you. you little devils. it may as well be on things that i actually would love. i mean that you could be 100% sure I would love. right? man. this is the worst.

also, world peace.

love,

Lizzy ;)

my life is weird

time is an invention of men incapable of love; paris 2010

Most of my life is sort of a train wreck. I once started crying in the middle of the Cougareat because I can't eat pizza. I am unable to do any kind of homework unless the sense of impending doom from not working overcomes me. All I know about the upcoming presidential election is that there are between two and eight candidates, and everyone I know hates at least two of them. I cannot cook rice, I have literally ruined it at least ten times. Even with a rice cooker. I work too much and I take too many classes at the same time. I'm writing a research paper on the benefits of exercise, but I have not exercised beyond walking to school since July. 

But honestly, life is good. I have a healthy, happy relationship with a man who doesn't care that I'm weird beyond all reason and do things like cry about pizza and ruin all rice. Actually that man is currently out of cell phone service until Sunday, dang it. *Note: you might think that having him in my life would cause me to do worse in school because I have less time for studying. I am happy to report that this is not the case, and when he is gone I still do very little studying.

I really like my job. I love the people I work with. I am good at it. My hours are more flexible than anyone I know. My biting sarcasm and inability to interpret human emotions is thought of as "hilarious" and "charming" instead of "extremely disturbing" and "horrible," (which terms, by the way are probably more accurate; the people I work with are not particularly sane either).

School is hard. And I hate it most of the time. But I really enjoy learning, and although the college lifestyle is certainly very difficult, there are a lot of good things about it. For example, a basketball game is more epic than Braveheart, which by the way I recently saw for the first time and although it was VERY edited I am forever scarred. 

My life is absolutely bizarre, but you know what? At least I'm not the roommate who lays fully clothed on the middle of the bedroom floor to sleep and, when asked, what on earth are you doing? mutters, "Yeah yeah, I just fell off my unicycle."

Love,

Lizzy ;)

joie de vivre

la joie de vivre by georges duhamel

In a lot of ways, my life is boring and mundane.

I "go to school" (I sleep through stats, learn about re-circumcision, un-circumcision, and various other extremely iffy subjects in Old Testament, and occasionally teach Psych 303).

I "go to work" (I listen to books on mp3 and laugh really hard with my 'coworkers'/only friends)

I "hang out with Jesse." Okay, that one needs to not be in quotes, because now it just sounds dirty. Don't worry. I am good. And we have a lot of fun together. On a scale of one to great, it is fantabulastic. And that is high praise, because I don't even know exactly what that means. Don't look it up; I invented it.

I think that in the business, they call this...happiness. You know, I think I like it. ;)

Love,
lizzzzard

STAY IN LANE

Here in this undisclosed place I live, we have freeways. We also have construction. And, like green eggs and ham, freeways and construction were made for each other. They are always together. It's like construction is this sad jobless girlfriend who only lives to follow freeway around and stay with him no matter where he goes.

In the place where I live, freeways and construction are even more in love than usual.

So I was driving down a heavily-under-construction freeway the other day when I saw a large white sign that said, STAY IN LANE. This sign was repeated every 1.2 miles. Initially, I laughed. Because of course I'm going to stay in the lane, where the heck else would I go? It has later been explained to me by an unknown and omniscient source that this actually means "don't change lanes."

But to me, it means, DON'T PANIC, THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET CRAZY BUT JUST KEEP DRIVING.

Sometimes, I need a STAY IN LANE sign for life. Because things are going to get crazy, but I'm in the right lane. And I just need to keep driving right down that lane, even though I have no idea what insane detour I'm being taken on now.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

PS-- I'm happy. Just so's you all know.

how to: secure a boyfriend

You know what I really hate? The word "boyfriend." I don't know why. I just hate it. But in spite of this pertinent and life-changing fact, I have one. A boyfriend, if you will. And since I have successfully secured 2, count 'em, 2 boyfriends in the history of my life, this naturally makes me an expert, and so I've decided to share my endless knowledge. Because I Care.

Step One: Leave Your Basement.
         If you are currently living in a basement like a hermit, subsisting off of Rainbow Chip frosting and watching every episode of every season of 30 Rock, STOP THIS MADNESS. I don't care where you go, anywhere is better than that basement. *Pro Tip: Attend a basketball game. You should only ever date people who love basketball.

Step Two: Be Yourself. No Matter How Utterly Absurd Yourself Is.
         I bet you think I mean what everyone else means. FALSE. Everyone says "just be yourself", but what they mean is "don't pretend you are Astronaut Mike Dexter, but make a good impression." I am living proof this is not true. I make terrible first impressions. Just today I met a guy for the first time, we talked classes/major, and he asked me if I knew a professor by the name of Ross. I replied glibly, "Yeah, I do Ross." I did mean, "Yeah, I do know Ross," but really you need ALL the words in a sentence. Or else it will not mean what you intended it to mean. The point is, who cares? Be yourself.

Step Three: Talk. Endlessly. 
          You know what, you know what that means. I'm just going to move on.

Step Four: Make Your Original Boyfriend/Fiance/Husband Leave You.
          Polygamy is not a widely accepted practice in most developed nations. You cannot date multiple people at once. So whomever you're dating, don't leave him for another guy because that's mean, but do make him leave you. If you are me, this will require absolutely no effort on your part (see Step Two).

Step Five: Refuse To Figure Out How You Feel About A Close Male Friend.
            There is nothing close friends of the opposite gender love more than not knowing how you feel about them. Are we friends? Are we more than friends? Do we want to be more than friends? Would becoming more than friends cause the world to explode? Don't answer any of these questions. Repeatedly say, "I just don't want to hurt our friendship," "I'm not sure how I feel," and "I just want you to be happy." Close male friends love to be told these things.

Step Six: Randomly DTR.
             DTR means, "Define The Relationship." This clearly needs to be done, but don't do it in a normal way. Randomly drop it into a conversation. The next thing you know, you're dating.

There you go. As for keeping a boyfriend, well, you're on your own there. But aren't you glad I shared my endless knowledge?

Love,
Lizzy ;)

the awesomest ghetto old man (or, Lizzy Buys a Car)

So, some of you may know, that I sort of have a vehicle. It is technically my stepfather's vehicle. Also, it is a 1985 Ford pickup. With 208,000 miles on it. And it is multicolored. And leaks all fluids.  But I love Butch, because he has faithfully served me without complaint. The problem is that now I work half an hour from my apartment. Which is not that big of a deal. Except in this place I live, it snows. Pickup truck + rear wheel drive + snow + Lizzy's crappy snow driving abilities = death.

I also have scholarships. A lot of scholarships. Too many scholarships, in fact. So I got handed a chunk of money when this semester started. And since I really doubt I will ever see that much money handed to me again, I figured this was probably the best time to actually replace my awesome pickup.

It turns out car shopping is really annoying. I looked at so many cars. I am pretty picky and didn't want to spend money and so it took me a while.

Today during my Psych Stats class I noticed an ad for a 1999 Ford Taurus with only 104,000 miles on it. This caught me interest. Stats did not. So after class I called an old man and got directions to his house. The old man was selling the car, by the way. Visiting random old men is not a hobby of mine.

Then my friend...he needs a nickname to keep him from the brilliance and subsequent drug rehab of stardom. We shall call him...Blaze. So Blaze and I went after work to check out this Taurus.

I found the elderly man, living in a garage, eating some tacos and wearing 70's shorts. Already, I thought, I like this man. He then handed me the keys and said, "Go check them airbags." So I drove the car around. It seemed to be in perfect condition mechanically, although its exterior was a little rough around the edges. Also, the man was just awesome. I said, "$2400." He said, "Okay."

And now I have a 99 Taurus. Now, the back windshield had some coating that is peeling off, and well, it needs a little love, but since it has so few miles on it (for a $2400 car), I'm happy. And I don't need to pay anything for mechanical parts or getting it fixed up. Awesome. Awesome. Plus...it has a radio! And air conditioning! And I can finally stop looking for a car. Wooooot.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

i'm not saying bombing half of BYU would be a good thing. i'm just saying there would be benefits.

Ah, BYU. Such a beautiful campus. Such qualified instructors. Such high, LDS-approved standards. The only problem is that there are about 20,000 more people than I would like. The concentration of people per square inch on BYU campus from 9am to 3pm is greater than even Hong Kong's busiest hour. But today, as I was being buffetted by the Cast of Thousands of overworked, overstressed, overachieving students (yes! already! I can hear the complaints of the insane workload and business on four cell phones from my current location), I happened to run into Mikelle. The following conversation ensued:

Mk: "What chances are these?"
Me: "30,000 to one! How are you?"
Mk: "So tired. I stayed up late doing reading and I got up early to finish reading and then class was canceled and I used the word 'freaking' for the first time. You?"
Me: "Really, really tired."
Mk: "Why?"
Me: "School. Work. Humans."
Mk: "Books. Paper. Pens. Plastic."
Me: "Bacon."
Mk: "Pagan?"
Me: "Yeah. Those Pagan rituals take up so much of my time."
Mk: "I know, me too."
Me: "I wish we weren't Pagan."

The rest of the conversation was mostly twitching and laughs.

My life is weird.

the fountain of menfolk

Be grateful for this post, as I am typing with solely my right hand. My left hand is in a medium-sized square Tupperware* filled with Comet*. I am sure you are completely nonplussed by this (you know, I'm just not sure I can surprise you guys anymore), but just for fun, I'll explain: there are these weird tiny blisters on the side of my hand and the inside of my wrist. They are clear and very small, but extremely itchy and irritating. I typed in a weird Google search about it and read somewhere that sticking your hand in bleach for a bit is helpful, and so, because the Internet NEVER lies, naturally I did it.

So far it burns in an alarming fashion. This may or may not be better than the itching. How long is "a bit"? If my hand falls off, who wants it? It is very well disinfected by this point. Practically good as new.

Anyways, right, back to the Fountain of Menfolk. Today I realized, that aside from my roommates and a few from high school, I have virtually no female friends. Neither of my roommates really do either. This isn't terribly worrisome to me, as girls are really a bit of a pain. But on the other hand, we have quite a number of male friends. The problem is when they all come over at once. Our (quite small and dingy) living room becomes a steaming pot of testosterone, and it can actually get a bit tense.

So I've fondly nicknamed our door The Fountain of Menfolk.**

Why do you read this, again?

By the way, life is good. It's stiflingly hot. I work in an office that may actually be cooler than my refrigerator (which is broken, or at least sucks at being a refrigerator and wishes it were just a box to put stuff in and not necessarily keep that stuff cold. Only if it feels like it.Which is not very often.) My apartment is very small and a little smelly and on the third floor and the furthest possible apartment from the stairs and it has a singular, diminutive AC unit in the corner of the living room, which does nothing to cool the house unless you sit directly in front of it. Which we usually do. I am going to visit my San Diego family in mid-August. School starts in a month. Nothing is new. But same old goodish is better than new bad, right? So I'm calling it good.

Love,
Lizzy

*I realized people in other countries read this and may be confused by those terms. "Tupperware" is...well, it's...hmm. How do you describe Tupperware? It's a brand name of plastic food containers with snap-on lids for storing leftovers in the fridge. There! And "Comet" is a type of powdered disinfectant cleanser made of sodium dicholoro-s-triazinetrione dichloride. Yeah, that didn't help me either. By the way, putting hands in Tupperwares full of Comet is not a typical American pasttime. Don't judge America by me. Please. Ever.

**This should not stop you from coming over, if you're male. It's merely an observation. We like your visits. Like I said, girls are a pain ;)

people die in weird ways. (or, texas in the 1800's.)

I like my job, largely because it utilizes my talents. Namely, biting sarcasm and an absurdly comprehensive--as well as detailed--knowledge of Disney movies. I am well-liked at my job. For one, I have a habit of saying things without really thinking them through, and while I am rarely trying to be funny, it seems to end up that way very frequently. For another, I am a veritable font of embarrassing and awesome stories, because if one thing can be said about me, it's that I have led a BIG life. One of my coworkers' favorite games is to give me a topic, and wait for a story to ensue. As you can imagine, this tends to be quite entertaining for everyone involved.

My job, which is technically called "being a quality assurance editor for Fold 3, a division of ancestory.com", but better known as "making offerings to the Great Computer of Doom", mostly consists of me and about 20 other BYU students sitting around at computers, digitizing death certificates and civil war pension applications, while brutally teasing one another and laughing very hard. 

Lately, we've been spending a lot of time on Texas death certificates from the 1800's. I'm not sure who filled out these things, but I think it may be some random person who was handed the form. "Cause of death" seems to be a blank that many of these random individuals have a hard time filling. While it is supposed to be filled out by the medical examiner who performed the autopsy, and say things like, "pulmonary embolism" or "cardiac arrest," what fun is that? Instead, responses to "cause of death" include: "Beats me, I just found him," "Who can tell," and, "She just dropped dead in her kitchen, it was crazy." My favorite response is "physician done sent him in," which seems to have been a charmingly uneducated Southerner's way of saying, "I have no idea." 

There are a number of insane ways people have died, such as "He got bit in the head by a shark," "His car exploded, covering 100% of his body in 4th-degree burns" and a baffling one-liner that desperately needed more detail: "He fell onto a chair." How did falling onto a chair kill him? Was it a very sharp chair? Was he very old?

Some of the people on our death certificates are very old indeed, with the "age at death" field being filled out with numbers like, "417." I may be very much mistaken, but I somehow doubt anyone in the 1800's lived past 80, let alone into his 4th century. 

And then there are the answers to "occupation," with things like, "old lady" and "neighborhood drunk" being written in. And someone should explain that "sex" is asking for "male" or "female." "No" is not an appropriate response.

In any case, just be glad your name isn't Eula Beula, William James Outhouse, Irilly Yodel (say it out loud) Henry Porno, or Oglesberry Higginbottom (yes, these are all real names).

Love,

Lizzy ;)

everybody just calm down. the world is not over.

I really appreciate how concerned and supportive you all are. I just wanted to reassure you that I am fine. Things are fine. Everything is just good. Okay? I feel like every time I post anything on here, everyone thinks I'm suicidal and the world is ending. Ya'll are a touch overreacting. I am a tough girl. I am like the girl on True Grit. Only prettier. And blonde. And not so dusty. And without an accent. And my father didn't get shot. And I am not out for revenge on my father's murderer. Okay, okay, the only thing we have in common as that we're tough. But I am tough.

Really. Even though I post negative things on here sometimes. That's because those are the only things of note. It wouldn't be interesting to tell you I went and got french fries with Abbie and Mikelle. But that happened, and it was fun and good. Just because I didn't put it on here doesn't mean it didn't happen. This blog is not my life.

So if we could all just take a deep breath, calm down, and maybe temper our reactions a tad, that'd be great. Because I'm good! Really!

Thanks,
Lizzy ;)

well, there's good news, and then there's bad news.

I've decided to start with the bad news, so we can end on a cheery note.

Chad and I broke up. It was his decision, not mine. I don't understand why. Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are. I've been nothing but faithful and supportive, I've never so much as held hands with another guy or even been on one single date since he left 14 months ago. I've been writing and emailing, and as far as I can tell, I didn't do anything wrong. Just a month ago he was all, "I can't wait to marry you" and all that crap. So yeah, no idea what caused this.

The worst part was he didn't even tell me. He told his mother. She ended our relationship on Facebook, so I actually had to call her to find out why and hear it secondhand. I didn't exactly react with shining colors, and it wasn't my proudest moment. But I don't really feel bad. I'm kind of glad she's angry with me, because their family holds grudges for all of eternity and so I couldn't get back with him even if he wanted to. Which he will. Because this is what he does. Although he's never broken up with me before...

It's....you know, it sucks. Big time. I feel like a huge fool for trusting him. I wish I had listened to the signs and chosen rationally rather than trusting my heart. But he asked me to marry him, for goodness' sakes. It's not as if I ever expected this to happen. I still don't know why.

But I'm permanently done. It's over. I've asked him not to contact me again at any point. We are not staying friends, and most of his immediately family has either deleted me or blocked me on Facebook. That hurts, but it's definitely conclusive. You know everything I know, so please no questions, and pity and sympathy really bother me. I'm not ready to talk about it. Thanks for respecting that.

The good news is, I got a job! I'm working Mondays through Fridays from 10am to 6pm for a company called Ancestry.com. I'm essentially indexing records for money. It's a good job, and I'm glad to have it. I will likely continue with that job and work 20 hours a week during the school year, if I like it. I hope I will, it seems like a great place to work.

Love,
Lizzy.

new plan: marry a rich old guy who dies and leaves me a million dollars.

Well, so once upon I time I'm retarded and I hit a building with my car. It's not as bad as it sounds; it was an abandoned storefront and I only broke one window panel. I had reversed into a parking spot and I was waiting for a friend. He came out and got in the car. Forgetting the car was in park, I hit the gas lightly. To my surprise, the car went slightly backwards. Sometimes my truck has a transmission problem where you have to give it a bit of gas to get it to start driving. I assumed this problem was happening and the truck was rolling backwards. So I gave it more gas. To my intense surprise, the truck began moving backwards more rapidly. I panicked. The further backwards I got, the more I floored it, because I just couldn't comprehend why this was happening. Then I hit a building.

I was really really really really upset when it first happened, because guess what, I'M BROKE. Absolutely 100% flat broke. I can't pay for a freakin' new window, I can't even buy groceries. Thankfully my mother, who admittedly has done her fair share of that sort of thing, was very understanding and did not kill me.

However. Things got more complicated when somehow, instead of going through me, whoever the crap owns the abandoned storefront started going through my mom and stepdad. Since no one ever told me anything, I just waited to hear back from them. Then my mom said they were handling it. No one ever told me anything still. Yesterday my mom said they'd been busy and hadn't gotten around to it and could I get some quotes. Today I met with someone to get a quote.

Guess what. The window is repaired--and they decided to fix the whole storefront while they were at it, and are going to charge me for the whole thing.

Now I have to come up with 5 grand. I have NO POSSIBLE WAY to do that. I have tried everything, absolutely everything I can possibly do to get a job. I have applied everywhere. Everywhere. There is no savings, I've been out of work for 2 months.

There is no solution. Just kill me now.

still no job+ultimate road trip!

Well, still no news on the job front. However I did have an interview yesterday at Ancestry.com, and it went pretty well. It was many times better than a number of job interviews I've had. You see, my resume is fairly impressive, and I've gotten a lot of interviews off it. Unfortunately, I am unable to mimic human behavior for twenty minutes in order to have a normal interview.

My worst one was probably the one I had last week. It was for an HR position at BYU Broadcasting. I am qualified for the position, but when I went in for the interview, I suddenly realized my brain had decided to take that particularly inconvenient moment to go on vacation. Whatever entity it left behind lacked the ability to coherently answer even the simplest questions. Every question I was asked, I would just start talking, and five minutes later realize I had no idea where the sentence was going, I hadn't answered the question, and I'd just said, "I put the most important things first" at least five times. I think during the course of the interview, I said, "I put the most important things first" at least 27 times. Needless to say, I did not actually get the job.

But this interview yesterday, I had all of my mental faculties firing on all pistons. I think I managed to pull off a professional, if a bit shy, interview. The lady seemed to like me, and I really really really hope she hires me. I'll hear back by next Thursday. So everyone pray, okay? I need this job.

Because! Yesterday we also planned our road trip, which we will be taking from August 8th-17th. Four girls. Five cities. Nine days. It will be...

the ULTIMATE ROAD TRIP

Abbie, Mikelle, Cajin and I will be driving from Provo to Abbie's home in Great Falls, Montana, to Mikelle's home in Deer Park, Washington, to a friend's wedding reception in Salem, Oregon, to a friend's wedding reception in Eugene, Oregon, to Jesse and Marcus's homes in Tillamook, Oregon. 

Holy cow it is going to be intense. 45 hours of driving and 2600 miles. Awesome. But I can't go unless I get a job, and fast. Cross all your fingers and toes for me!

Love,
Lizzy ;)

babies, boulots and buckets

this is a baby in a bucket. which is not what this post is about, but it is cute, no?

I want a baby. I don't know why, because I'm only 20, which seems very, very young, doesn't it? I feel much older than 20. But in any case, I want a baby. I suppose it's my biological programming, but I also think it's just me. The truth is, for all my brains and BYU studies, all I want to be is somebody's wife and somebody's mom. That's all I really want, and all I've ever really wanted. I got to talk to my sweet little cousins last night, and it just made me so happy, and so want a little boy or girl--or preferably both--of my own.

In French, a boulot is a job (as opposed to a career) that young people have for short periods of time. I desperately need one of these, but despite the fact that I've applied for every job I'm possibly qualified to do, and heard back from a number of places, no one will hire me. I can only conclude this is some sort of test or learning experience meant for my good, so I'm trying to learn whatever it is I'm supposed to be learning in the meantime. So far, I've mostly learned not having a job is stressful, and makes you very angry when other people eat your food. You may even leave angry notes on all of your food. Your roommates will be scared, but not enough to stop eating your food.

The good thing about not having a job right now is that I've been able to spend a lot of time with my dear roommates/sisters/wives/daughters Mikelle and Abbie, whom I love very much. I have also been able to concentrate on my calling as Relief Society Secretary (Mikelle's the 2nd counselor, it's a lot of fun), which I really enjoy and gives me a sense of purpose and satisfaction. 

The buckets part of this post is that that's how much it's raining. Buckets. I do not enjoy it. 

Finally, I am happy because I got to talk to Jesse for an hour and a half last night. He's my best friend (and no more--don't go getting any ideas) and I just love talking to him. I know to many people it seems like we're unnaturally close for just friends, but the truth is, I'm in love with Chad, and only Chad. Jesse knows it, has known it from the day he met me. He accepts that, as he puts it, "when Chad gets home [he's] going to have to give [me] up", and is really supportive and great about it. Really. But Chad's not here right now, and in the meantime, it's really nice to be able to have someone love me for who I am, and listen to me, and be there for me. Someone for whom I don't have to be strong, or confident, or perfect--I can just be me, and that's enough.

I still really miss Chad, though. A lot. I try not to think about it most of the time, but every once in awhile (like when I was talking to Mikelle at 2am last night), it hits me like a ton of bricks. Not a lot of things make me cry, but that'll do it every time. 

I'm really so grateful for the people in my life right now, though. My new roommate Kim is pretty great as well. She's very easy to be around and friendly and I'm glad she's my roommate. I love laying on the floor talking to Mikelle until super early in the morning. I love climbing mountains with Abbie in the dark. I love laughing on the phone with Jesse and Marcus. I love making button flip flops with my mom. I love talking to my adorable cousins. I love dinner with my grandparents. I love running errands with Janelle and watching stupid music videos with Shamae. 

I'm very lucky to have all these wonderful people in my life. And for this moment, I can smile about that.

Love,

Lizzy :)

PS-I let this blog go public again. :) 

it's rain, mikelle. water that falls from the sky.

weirdies posing. from left: me, abs, jesse, mikelle, cajin

It has been raining here. For days straight. I don't really mind the rain, per se. I don't have anywhere to go really, so it's not too bothersome, and it's not raining hard enough to cause any real problems.

My life is full of people, of my adopted families, Abbie and Mikelle and Janelle and Janelle's family, and of my real family--or, at least, the ones left in Utah. I'm the Relief Society Secretary in this ward, and so I have responsibilities there and I spend a lot of time with the girls in our ward. I've been meeting lots of new people in this new ward, and so I get the chance to try to describe myself, or some parts of myself, to someone who knows nothing about me. You learn a lot when you have to try to explain who you are to a stranger. I learned that I don't actually have hobbies or interests. I go to school, I work, I do research, and I spend time with people. That's it. There isn't anything else in my life. And I don't feel like I'm missing anything.

The problem is that people are transitory. They come, they go. We're with them for a brief moment, and then our paths split. I do not like the splitting of paths. I would like everyone I love to live within 10 miles of me, forever. But they won't, and that's a hard thing for me to accept.

So maybe, I need a hobby.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

change, change, it's time for it.

Well! So after these last few boring and depressing posts, I've decided that things are needing to have been having changing. That sentence was intentionally confusing, for the record. What I mean to say is, things need to change.

So here it is, the grand resolution post. Tomorrow I have to finish my part of the research paper and get it back to Dr. Hedges, I've taken wayyy too long on it already. And I have to work. For 2 hours. At least. Preferably 3. And I need to go to the gym. And I need to eat actual food that has some nutritional value. And I have to get up before 12, even though it's 1 am right now and I won't be asleep for another few hours.

None of these things are easy, even though theoretically I think they would improve my quality of life. Hmm. So it begins. But I've committed to you guys, so here goes nothin'!

Love,
Lizzy ;)

PS, did I mention I miss Jesse? Sigh.

when is summer going to start again?

Well, we're not hating our new place quite as much anymore. Although Abbie doesn't cook because the kitchen is so small. And our room is a disaster area (as always).

I still don't have another job (working on it), but I did get 5 hours a week of prep work for my current job--not exactly enough to live off of, but better than nothing, right?

On Saturday I said goodbye to Jesse, one of my very closest friends. On a scale of 1 to fun, it was a -214.

So, I don't feel like I'm having fun party times per se, but I do get to sleep in until 11. That's something, right?

Love,
Lizzy

sometimes, life is suck.

Well, we successfully moved out of our house. And in to Roman Gardens. It was exhausting and stressful, but with the help of Jesse and our bodybuilding friend Evan, not too bad--we got everything moved in in 2 hours.

However, none of us have been having good times. Actually, the past couple days have been mostly a lot of tears. We kind of hate our apartment. We do not like our new roommate too terribly much (although it's mean of us to say that). There is not enough space to even move in our kitchen. We are all dealing with difficult and unsolvable personal problems.

Last night was sort of the culmination of all of this. The three of us laid on the floor of Abbie and Mikelle's room and talked and cried. I eventually moved my bedding in to their room and slept on their floor. I'm not sure why that was helpful, but it was, for all of us.

We've decided to look into other options for summer housing. The very thought of moving all of this crap AGAIN makes my stomach hurt, but if we are genuinely this unhappy here, it'll be worth it to live somewhere new. We may not even be able to get out of this contract, but it's worth a shot, right?

The other bit of unhappy news I got was that I didn't get hours for spring/summer. So I am essentially jobless until fall. That's pretty much bad news bears, as that's my only source of income. So today I start trying to find another job.

Geez...when is summer going to start again?

Love,
Lizzy ;)

moving out and the french riviera

Well, finals are over. I can't say they went well, but I can say they're over and I'm pretty happy about that. Free! Free as a bird!

Not quite free just yet, though, because two days after the end of finals we have to be out of our house. So that's what we've been doing. Our house is a disaster, honestly, but our goal is to have everything out today by 6. Abbie, Mikelle and I will be rooming together at Roman Gardens, and Caj is moving home. I can't say I'm excited, per se...I don't want to leave our house. I love it so. But it's just too pricey, and we are students.

Marcus left for ye olde Oregon yesterday. It was sad. We'll miss him. Jesse's going to be here for another week, so that's nice, but yeah. I'm not lovin' this part of summer if it means my best friends are leaving me!

Also, isn't it weird that a year ago right now I was preparing to leave for Paris? I still can't really believe I went to Europe by myself and did all that crazy stuff. I just went through my pictures from Nice and I could die, I love them so much. That was such a happy time in my life. I remember it so clearly, too--how warm and humid it was, so you were never really dry, how it smelled, the pebble beaches, the Casino (it's a grocery store in french, not a casino) that we bought our food at. Haggling over towel prices. Figuring out the bus system. The marche aux puces (flea market). Even the vending machines where we bought our precious Bounty candy bars. I want to go back there, right now. I'm so glad I did that while I had the chance!

All right. On to packing, mi amigos.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

finals week, or in other words, MY final week. of life.

So this is my second year at BYU. I don't really remember finals the first time around, to be honest. I mean, I know I must've taken two sets of finals before. Three, actually. But last April Chad left, and I don't actually remember anything from April 7th until I arrived in Paris. So I guess my finals disappeared into some traumatized vortex. Or something, I don't know.

The point is that I don't remember finals week in past semesters. However, let me tell you about finals week THIS semester.

Finals week means I have a number of 'camps' in which I do not move and alternate between studying and studying. And sometimes eating, but not frequently. One of the camps is on my couch. That's where I have spent all of today. There's a blanket, pillow, a number of water bottles, endless textbooks, flash cards, notebooks, pens, pencils, iPod, headphones. It is like a little camp I've set up for myself. I have another of these camps on the 10th floor of the SWKT. I was there last night until 10. Yes, on a Sunday. So yeah, that's pretty weird.

Finals week also means that I basically go from failure to failure with nothing but growing fear and confusion. Why am I failing? Why can't I stop? Why is it everlastingly too late? I don't know. I have 3 finals down and 2 to go. I'm taking them both tomorrow so that I can just put myself out of my misery.

And the final lesson I've learned about finals can be summarized in one word: Caffeine. Because in the past week, I've probably slept a sum total of 21 hours. Approximately 3 hours per night. Like last night. Because I had a 7am final.

I am so, so, so tired. It has become this ridiculous attempt to conserve all energy for studying. Even solitaire takes too much energy. But I had to write this blog, because after tomorrow this week will disappear into the Finals Vortex and next fall I'll be totally shocked and confused all over again.

I'm just so tired.

Love,
Lizzy

jordan is also a weirdie

"Isabelle, if you could pick a day of the week that describes you, what would it be?"
"Probably Thursday. If you could pick a day of the week to represent you, what would you pick?"
"Saturday."
"Why?"
"Because it's everything I want in life."
"You are everything you want in life?"

And just for fun, here are a few of our shining moments (because I have a huge, really important project due in 6 hours and nothing gets that done faster than writing a blog):
"The potato is screaming! It's screaming!" -Caj
"You have really bad putting away cheese problems." -Mikelle
"I don't want to do homework. I want to be flipped around a man's body." -Caj
"I'm Jared Whitehouse and I want to have your baby." -Mikelle
"I looked down and I was like, slut! Me!" -Abbie
"You started that naughty!" -Jesse
"It's like a little worm that imitates your finger sometimes." -Jonathon
"What if my hands had brains? They would be so smart." -Mikelle
"Me and sparkleys are like THIS (crossing fingers)" -Maracus
"She doesn't have a lethal disease. It's not like she shoots fire out of her eyes." -Jesse
"No, I WANT TO BE THERE NAKED." -Unknown
"You sure are a great black woman, Marcus." -Me
"And it bugged me. And that's why I drew a picture of a dinosaur eating him." -Cajin
"Isn't it weird that we cross-pollinate plants like we cross-pollinate humans? To create new humans?" -Caj
"It made me gade an idea." -Abbie

In other news...last day of class! And Janelle is here! Much rejoicing will be had, followed by crushing pain and despair when I realize that I still have to take all my finals.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

mikelle's a weirdie

I had a conversation with my dear darling roommate Mikelle today. It went like this:

"Mikelle, why do you have my headphones?"
"Um...I don't know...why...I have them."
"I've been looking for those for like a week."
"Well, but Cajin has some...and Abbie has some..."
"How is that relevant?"
"WELL I WANTED TO HAVE MY OWN TOO, OKAY?"
"What? Seriously, what kind of a defense was that?"
"I really don't know. But hey, look how weird my head is, so weird, right?"
"Yes, you look like a terrorist. But don't distract me! Give those back!"

I love my roommates.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

an open letter to insomnia

procrastination rap

this is Cajin in her best gangsta pose. fitting.

my name is iZy and i know how to party

sleepin all day stayin up all nighty

i don't do my homework and i really hate school

sometimes i jump in a really cold pool.

i have great friends and man do they love me

i don't know why but i sure think it's funny

we live in the Moon and we love it so much

we don't have cable but our hats are dang clutch.

lipstick lipstick it's a strange tradition

i kinda wish it had stayed an omission

so many quotes, we laugh so hard

cheese, tiny boys, and a popup card

i'm 'writing a paper' so i better rap this up

but that was a great pun you silly chup!

Loaded Burger

there is this cool app on my phone that takes retro pictures. 

This is Abbie.

This is Mikelle. She's a guard at the MOA, and look how intimidating!

Why is "Loaded Burger" the title of this post? I know least of all. But it popped up like it was something I had typed in previously. I don't think I titled anything 'loaded burger.' I am pretty dang sure I didn't though, is the thing.

So you know what would be a good thing for me to be doing right now would be? Thinking of a better way to write that sentence, that's the first one probably. But another good thing would be to do my homework. But why do homework when you could ramble on the internets?

Anyways. Today I discovered this is the last month of school for the year. To be honest, while I'm very happy about school being over, I'm also a little bit sad. Because the thing is, there's those fools that I'm friends with. I'll be living with Abs and Mikelle this summer, but what about my bros Jesse and Marcus? We've become semi-inseparable. I think the longest we've gone without talking in the past month is 22 hours. I see them literally EVERY day, usually multiple times. We like our relationship. It's easy. It's effortless. They're there for me, I'm there for them. And I love them. And I don't want them to go back to Oregon. Because it's never going to be the same, ya see? It's never going to be as close as we are right now. And i hate that.

I better treasure these next 4 weeks, I suppose.

Love,
Lizzy

mawwiage is what bwings us togevah today

On Saturday one of my very best friends, Laura (the one next to me) got married! For the record, I wrote "marriaged" three times before I got it right. Hahaha.

So naturally, we are all super happy for her. We love Andrew (her now-husband) and are sure they'll be super happy together. We had a great time helping with the shower and talking at the reception. The group of girls you see in that picture have all been best friends since sophomore year of high school. Laura's the first of us to get married. So, it was kinda hard for all of us to adjust to, in all honesty. It is kind of like losing a friend, in a way, I mean, we know not really, but it'll never really be the same either, right?

shower food

I'm having a hard time as of late with my friends and them leaving me. At BYU everything is so transitory and always-changing. It isn't like high school, where you're in the same place with the same people for 4 years. You're seldom with the same people for more than 8 months. And I hate that. I am not the type to make a lot of short-term friends really easily. I make friends, and then those are my friends. FOREVER. If we split paths, it'll take me about a year to come up with new friends.

i enlisted Abs in making the desserts. i blow torched those cupcakes all by myself!!

So, I'm a little sad because Laura is now Wife of Andrew, and it is almost the end of the semester. I'm trying to live with Abs and Mikelle, who have literally become like sisters to me, for the spring/summer at the very least. But JMar (Jesse and Marcus) go back to Oregon until next fall, and in the fall Jesse's probably going to Jerusalem. So basically, my group of friends is being disbanded once more.

Now, Janelle is coming back for the summer, so that's a great comfort to me. I just wish that everyone would stay in the same place and stop leaving me, you know?

Sigh.

Love,

Lizzy

my sisters and the k5 boys

ignore my horrible smile. from left: mike, abs, caj, me, jesse james, farcus is holding the camera. :)

Well. How come I haven't been posting very frequently lately? Thankfully, the answer is a good one (for me, at least): I've been having fun. 


You see, when Chad left, my coping mechanisms went sort of like this.
April 7-19th "Oh, he's probably just gone for a couple weeks."
April 19th-June 20th "I'm in France and Italy, of course he isn't here with me, but that doesn't mean he's gone."
June 20th-August 13th "He's probably just gone for the summer, I'll see him when school starts."
August 13th-January 1st Pit of despair when I finally realized he was actually GONE. I stayed in my basement for the entirety of this time and got so depressed I actually dropped out of school. 
January 1-20th I start to become a normal human again.
January 20th-February 28th I suddenly realize I've had friends who like me, just for me,  all along.

Who are these people? My fantastic roommates who have become my sisters, plus Kimball 5 (the K5 boys). Jesse, Marcus, Evan, Abs, Mikelle, and Caj, with extended family members Jared, Andrew, Garret, Ben, Mike, Jordan, Trevor, and Chris. Yeah, the one thing I have in common with my roommates is that we pretty much all prefer hanging out with guys...haha.

And guess what? For the first time since Chad left, I'm actually...happy. Dare I say it? HAPPY!! Seriously.

Love,
Lizzy :D

i love disneyland more than almost anything

This is me at Disneyland Paris. I am SO GLAD we decided to go!

I just have to tell you, I love Disneyland. I think it is seriously the happiest place on earth. Honestly. It is like, the greatest thing ever ever ever.

I miss it. I want to go to Disneyland RIGHT NOW! I really, really, really seriously want to go to Disneyland, though. This summer I may make a trip...we shall see. Especially because I am also supposed to go on a road trip with Caj and Abbie to visit the boys in Tilamook (yes, like the cheese). But I love Disneyland so much...

Anyways. I don't know why that has been on my mind lately, but it has. It is my happy place, right there.

Love,
Lizzy ;)

my laziness reaches new heights

Here was my to-do list for today:

• Start studying for that environmental biology midterm that ends on Thursday.
• Start studying for that Italian midterm on Friday.
• Finally get around to the LDS Marriage and Family paper that's due this week
• Finally get around to the Book of Mormon paper/online assignment/reading assignments that are due tomorrow
• Start the IRB for the psychology research project (it is due on Wednesday)
• Put away the cereal bowl that I used for breakfast as I was being late for Italian
• Edit the chemistry transcript that is due tomorrow at 10 am

Here was what I did today:

• Took a nap in the Cougareat. Woke up because Hairspray was suddenly blasted over the intercom.
• Talked to my teammate for psychology project about her wedding (chose cake) (IRB not mentioned)
• Checked out multiple houses I will not be living in this year (but now I know for sure!)
• Read a lot of PostSecret archives. All of them, actually.
• Went to the dollar store with roommates. Bought spatula. 
• Went to Buy Low with roommates. Bought tortillas, cheese, cereal, and ice cream. 
• Went to Shopko with roommates. Bought glitter glue for unknown reasons.
• Watched a lot of videos about skiing/snowboarding with the boys, again for unknown reasons.
• Watched The Office.
• Watched Community.
• Went through three months of CakeWreck archives.

And it is 11pm. So...um...well...

Good job, Isabelle. Good job.

Love,

me. 

if only to make you smile

I miss Italy.

France was great and all, but I spent A LOT of time there. If I went back to visit, that would be okay, but really I love Italy. Hence learning Italian. And trying to justify a second study abroad there.

But so sometimes when it isn't a good day, I go through my Rome pictures and smile. Here are a few of my favorites:

Love,
Lizzy

every time i sit down to do homework, a little part of me dies inside.

I don't know why I have such a horrifying vendetta against homework. But I do. It makes some part of me extremely, viciously angry and rebellious. The very idea that I have homework assignments makes me vaguely nauseas. And every time I sit down to do it, my blood turns to boiling and I become so violently, exceptionally anti-homework there is just no way it is happening until 7am the morning it is due.

This is a terrible practice if you enjoy good grades. Truly, an awful practice. Blending homework, however, is highly satisfying. Just sayin'.

So right now, it's 9:15. I've been up since 7:30 and thanks to the flu, I have been home, in my bed, all day. For 14 hours. Somehow, I have successfully filled all 14 without even looking at my homework.

What is wrong with me?

Love,
Lizzy. sigh.

i am becoming one of those crazy organic environmentalists.

This semester, I am taking Environmental Biology. It fulfills a physical science requirement, and that's the only reason I'm taking it. I have no interest in environmental science of any kind. My worldview goes something like, "We're all going to die, stop being a little girl." I believe global warming is one of those "the sky is falling" ordeals in which I repeatedly tell people the world is going to end and there is nothing they can do about it, just accept it and move on.

But for my environmental biology class, we were asked to watch Food, Inc. 


Yep. I'm now one of those crazy, organic environmentalists.

If you're not familiar with the film, it's a documentary about the food industry in the United States. It covers beef, chicken, pork, corn, soybeans...the whole nine yards.

Guess what? It's horrible. Sickening. Wrong. I'm a skeptic, and I know the film wasn't perfect, but I also know those people spent hundreds of thousands of dollars and risked millions in lawsuits to produce a film that they knew would never 'make it big', because they believe in this cause. They had nothing but good intentions, and they got their message across. It may have been imperfect, and it's certainly biased, but the evidence holds even under my university research scrutiny. And I think they are right.

First of all, I am an animal person. I love animals. I firmly believe that just because animals don't have the mental capacity to defend themselves against us does not make them worthless. They are living things with brains, thoughts, and feelings. They feel pain just like you do. They experience joy and sadness just like you do. They form interpersonal relationships just like you do. Anyone who has ever had a pet knows this. They think. They have emotions. I have had cats who were able to unlock doors and open microwaves. Dogs who hid when they knew they'd done something wrong. Horses who could tell when you were afraid (and were more than happy to take advantage of that.) Pets who knew when you were sad and were there to provide comfort in their own simple way. The fact is, animals are alive, just like you. And their lower level of intelligence renders them completely subservient to us, the humans.

I accept that Heavenly Father put them here to be below us. I understand that. But I also believe that he never, ever put them here to be crushed to death by the millions in order to provide us with cheap bacon. I don't believe that he intended chickens to live for only 38 days, in which they could not walk or even stand because they have been so genetically modified that their bones cannot support their weight. I know he did not want them to be tortured and brutalized in every possible way, to be treated like nothing but a means to a paycheck. We have been asked to take care of them. To look after them. To treat them with the respect and honor they deserve as living things.

I've heard about these sort of things before. Transcribing classes for a public health major has shown me more than my fair share of slaughterhouses. I know it is horrible. But I always thought there was nothing I could do. The food industry is controlled by the government and the workings of a capitalist nation. How could one little girl's choice to not eat a hamburger possibly make a difference?

Well, you just have to look around at Walmart or Smiths or Maceys to know that a difference has already been made, and by a minority who was always told they couldn't make a difference. Organic, non-GMO, and free-range labels are showing up everywhere. Every store now features reusable grocery bags. Because those grocery store owners had a change of heart? No. Because their customers were willing to pay for organic foods and eco-conscious practices.

To be honest, I already buy organic where possible. I buy cage-free eggs and organic fruits and veggies. It's only about a dollar more, and even I, a lowly student, has the ability to pay that dollar. But I also buy candy bars and Cheetos and all sorts of crap. And I'm done supporting an industry that harms everything about this world--from the environment, to the children killed by E. coli-contaminated burgers, to the horrible jobs minority workers are forced to work, to the animals that are treated like dirt rather than the thinking, feeling, living things they are.

So. It's organic from here on out. It's local farmers. It's free-range beef. I refuse to eat anything if I don't know where it came from. I refuse to eat anything produced by Tyson or Smithfield or McDonalds.

This is your Earth. Protect it.

Love,
Lizzy
Your Local Crazy Environmentalist Organic Granola Girl

my birthday party!!

It was fantastic, you guys. Simply wonderful. To protect everyone from creepy stalkers and stuff, I'm not going to post pictures or the several amazingly funny videos on here. But if we are Facebook friends, go check it out. Seriously, check out the videos, because they might have to come down soon if the subjects of the videos find out they're on facebook.

But yeah. It was really great to have almost everyone I love all together on my birthday eating and talking and laughing. It was super great and I am so, so grateful to everyone that came.

Yay!!

Love,
Lizzy ;)

it is 9 degrees.

9.

Why?

In other news, guess what, I'm taking Italian!! Don't go lecturing me about how I should take it easy and not do too much. I tried and I just don't have it in me. Besides, no one is making me learn Italian. I just WANT to. Because, I speak French, I may as well put those years and years of work to as much use as possible.

It turns out Italian is WAY easier than French. Who knew?

Also, I am now 20. As of...today. Haha. Woooot. And yesterday I was on email the same time Chad was and we chatted for an hour. It was amazing.

So yeah. I'm doing pretty good.

Although did I mention it is 9 degrees?

It is.

Love,

Lizzy ;)

butch's tired tires, also school

I put tires on my '85 Toyoto pickup yesterday. The guy looked at me and said, "You have an '85?" I said, "Um...yes." He was like, "okay." Then he went to go see what size the tires were. He came back and said, "They don't actually make that same size tires anymore. But I can find something close."

Poor Butch. He is so old. But he runs! And he is free because I have a good stepdad! And he gets great gas mileage.

In other news...Winter Semester 2011. Due to my death dying depression last semester, I'm taking it easy this semester with 12 credits. LDS Marriage and Family (I love this class), the second half of Book of Mormon (again), Food Preparation in the Home (Clad should be grateful), Environmental Biology (I know...it fulfills a general...), and Psych 302 (A small-group research class. Love my group!). So far, I enjoy all of my classes and am hopeful that I will be able to do my homework and do as well as possible. So...pray for me, okay?

You're lucky because I'm doing another post today. Be excited.

Love,
Lizzy :)

Poor butch.