Out of the Mouth of Babes

I love Michael's little sister Emma Jane. For anyone who hasn't had the absolute pleasure of meeting this adorable, toe-headed, raspy-voiced three year old she is amazing. I thought I would share a recent Emma Jane experience.

Lorie (Michael's mom) does the laundry on their bedroom floor. She stepped out for a minute and came back to find that Emma Jane had used a bra to hook the two bathroom doors together. She had one shoulder strap on each of the door handles. When asked what she was doing she said she made a booby trap! haha...oh the irony.

Later I told Emma Jane that she was a silly goose, to which she exasperatingly replied "No I am not! I'm Emma Jane!"

I'm Sorry

To anyone out there who actually still follows my blog I'd like to say...

(Have you ever seen Simon Birch? If not you should...just ignore the blowing up part at the end I couldn't find a clip without it)

Ok, ok...so I admit it has been a shameful amount of time since I last blogged. But in my defense, I had a lot going on. And then after a few weeks of not blogging I realized how much I had to catch up on and I just let it snowball...and here we are almost 6 months later with no new blogs. Ahhh!!! If procrastination is a communicable disease then anyone who knows me should go get checked out. But let me see if I can sufficiently sum up the past 6 months for you:

1) I had a job with a real estate company. It sucked. Working in an office on a computer 45 hours a week can make you very depressed and irritable. If you don't believe me ask my family or Michael and they will testify that it is true. So I quit. Voila...my life is back. On the flip side I sadly have no income because I haven't bothered getting another job yet...I'll explain why....

2) Toby picked up the wonderful habit of running away. Once for over an hour. It makes me feel like a horrible parent. How would you feel if every time you opened the door your child ran for the hills like they couldn't wait to escape you? However I think it is mostly because he misses being outside. In Utah he practically lived in our backyard. And now Texas has been too hot and he gets too stinky if I let him out. Sorry but Mom doesn't want our sofas smelling like nasty doggy so you will have to continue to lust for the wild through the glass Tobster. On the bright side he is starting to take me more seriously when he does get away. In fact a week or so ago when the UPS man made his daily eBay delivery (due to my mom's recent discovery of the 'internet') Toby bolted out the door. But I yelled at him so loud he literally stopped and pooped...I think I scared the crap out of him. His tendency has been reduced by 50% since.

3) I am dating Michael Nelson. Yeah, yeah...I know you all already knew and it's so obvious why even bother...but if you DIDN'T happen to know it seems like a big chunk to leave missing out of the last six months. He is wonderful, I'm not gonna lie. In the first week of us dating he brought me roses...twice. When I would go to bed at night with roses on each of my nightstands I felt like Cleopatra. But besides the fact that he is a romantic he has been such a great blessing in my life as well. We are best buds and spend most every day together. But I don't want you all to vomit and stop reading my blog because of all the 'mushy' stuff, so we will ration it and come back to Michael some other time.

4) I do not like sushi. I tried it once like two years ago, but recent attempts have confirmed my previous hypothesis. I do not like sushi.

5) I saw a dead body for the first time. There was a really bad wreck on the highway and I was dead stop across from it. The person was flung from their car and laying on the highway. Paramedics or whoever hadn't gotten there yet to cover the body. I definitely see death differently now. It's more real. I know that may seem stupid...we see blood and gore and death continuously on tv and movies. But seeing it firsthand is totally different and not something you easily forget.

6) My aversion to nuts has been reduced. I can now eat nuts in cakes and muffins. But that's as far as I'll take it for now.

Ok...so there's a teeny weeny update. More to come.

Charlie the Unicorn, Velociraptors and Purple Orgasms

I love summer nights because you never know what each one has in store. The warm night air just invites hillarium and randomosity. A few nights ago we decided to have a pool party and I almost drowned from laughing so hard. I literally snorted nearly a gallon of water because my abs were so preoccupied laughing that I couldn't tread water. Here are some conclusions I have drawn from said pool party:

1) Taylor Lautner is a sexy beast that can turn men homosexual.
2) I will never be good at cannonballs.
3) Velociraptor impressions run in the Gantt family genes.
4) I wish Charlie the Unicorn and his friends really would run off a plank into water "The Ring" style.
5) I could watch Nichole be a flying monkey a million times and never get tired of it.

After our amazing pool party we decided it was time for a Purple Orgasm. So a group of us drove all the way to Murphy for a good time...at Sonic. The Purple Orgasm is some amazing drink that only the Sonic in Murphy creates...it is purple, bubbly sweet goodness. It makes my mouth water with happiness.

A Purple Orgasm is even sweeter after dark....

Apparantly Michael Purdue doesn't know how to appreciate a good orgasm though and is an ingrate. My love for him outweighs this fact though, so I will overlook it. But next time I give you a perfectly good orgasm, don't waste it.

Afterwards we watched Dear John. This movie was good until she married some guy for his autistic child and then things went downhill...I have no idea how I was supposed to feel at the end of the movie...I am still a little hazy...although it could just be the side effects of the drink.

According To Him.

An amazing person just had me listen to this song. Sometimes with music, it's better if you let the lyrics do the talking instead of trying to supplement them...and these lyrics say it all....

:)

Limbo. Not the Game With The Stick.

I am currently in the most bizarre state of limbo in my life.

Nothing is permanent, yet it is, all at the same time. Everything that I want to have in my life, isn't or isn't yet. And everything that I don't want in my life is still here, but not really. I am so tired of experiencing this ripple effect over and over and over. I want to scream to someone at the top of my lungs how incredibly unfair life can be sometimes. In fact, I could write an entire book on it. All I want to do is move on and be happy, but the universe has decided it disagrees with that idea.

I know that "patience is a virtue" and "good things come to those who wait"...but what if at the end of the wait, that thing is gone? What then oh wise one? Then am I just left with the virtue of patience? Not a total loss, but not as good as what I could have instead.

Buddy Holly and Other Life Insights.

When I was 7 years old I received my first pair of glasses.

I remember standing in the school nurse's little white tiled room and covering my eye with a brown plastic thing and not being able to read a single letter on the chart she was showing me. I also remember how my mom thought I was faking. She even tested me with a homemade eye chart and got mad at me when I failed it. She thought I wanted glasses because they were cool. Yeah mom, because all the pop stars and athletes wear thick framed coke bottle glasses. Okay there was Buddy Holly, but he's an exception.

(PS - I own a sweater almost identical to this one.)

Probably my most distinct memory of that entire experience though was after I visited the optometrist and picked up my new glasses. I came out of the store and was so excited because the trees had individual leaves that I could actually see. I had always thought they were just green blobs until that very moment.

The past couple of days have been an equally eye-opening experience for me. It's like I saw certain aspects of my life as green blobs. That's what they were and there was no changing it. But now, with the help of a wonderful, cute new pair of 'glasses' I realized how wrong I was. You don't have to be in a Hollywood romantic comedy to find a guy who is unabashadly adoring and sweet. I think that every girl deserves this amazing feeling and clarity. If not for the knowledge than at least for the pure giddiness that it brings. And now, no matter how hard anyone else tries to convince me...I'm not going back to thinking that green blobs are a reality. Because I am finally seeing things crystal clear, and I like what I'm seeing.

What's It Going To Do....Turn Into Kanye West?

Genevieve and I recently discovered an auto-tuner app on the iPhone called "I Am T-Pain". Needless to say we have had some amazing fun with it over the past 24 hours.

Here's some of our most recent recordings:

I Feel Pretty - Mom
I Kissed A Girl - Sarah
Believe - Genevieve

I am considering getting an auto-tuner surgically implanted and then trying out for American Idol. I also think it would help liven up sacrament meetings...let me know your thoughts.

The Holocaust and Periods

I was recently "Krogering" and had an enlightening experience. Krogering, by definition, is when you shop at Kroger grocery stores. If you didn't know that, then you're not alone. I only recently acquired this knowledge from a very informative sticker I received at the end of my shopping trip.

Giving me a sticker when shopping is a guaranteed return shopper in my book. If Wal-Mart had the old men with smiley face stickers still at the door, then I wouldn't have had to turn my back on them and go to Kroger.

However, I was very disappointed in my recent Krogering experience. Perhaps I have been spoiled by the Wal-Mart / CostCo mentality of having whatever bizarre item I need at my fingertips. But I don't feel I was asking anything unfair of Kroger. I mean feminine hygiene products are used by roughly 50% of the population right? So why wasn't there a single tampon to be found in the entire store?? I think Kroger is under the old-fashioned belief that like the Holocaust, periods were made up by 'the man'. I am here to tell them otherwise.

They did redeem themselves in the 60-90 year old demographic though, with an unusually large selection of Incontinence items. They even carried these stylish Depends.


I call them Depends for Homies. (Yes I'm aware that's not how it's pronounced.) I think that older people still reserve the right to have a boxer type underwear stylishly showing just above their baggy pants if they want to. And these are the perfect solution. Purchase them for your elderly, ghetto loved one during the next holiday...even if it means there isn't shelf space for my 'lady time' nonsense.

If...

If I were a season,

I'd be the summer.


If I were a piece of furniture,
I'd be a porch swing.


If I was a country,
I'd be Italy.


If I was a food,
I'd be an ice cream cookie sandwich.


If I was a flower,
I'd be a water lily.


If I were a song,
I'd be The Heart of Life, by John Mayer


If I were an instrument,
I'd be wind chimes.


If I were a color,
I'd be teal.


If I were a time of day,
I'd be night.


If I were a drink,
I'd be raspberry lemonade.


If I were a holiday,
I'd be Christmas.


If I were a store,
I'd be Anthropologie.


If I were a word,
I'd be serendipity.


If I were a person,
I'd be me.


If I could see the future,
I'd see who I spend it with.

Buhduh Duh Duh Duh...I'm Hatin' It

Ever since I have moved back home I have become the most gluttonous person in existence and I think I will go into cardiac arrest any second. Let's back it up, and I'll explain why.

My dad has always done the cooking in our house because my mother was born allergic to any kind of housework that requires her to be in the kitchen. Over the past few years my dad's job has required him to travel more and more. Now he's gone about 3-5 days a week on average. Consequently the cooking has been left to my mom. So every night she prepares us each the wonderful meal of a new, crisp ten dollar bill. I never thought I could get tired of eating out, but I think I have reached my capacity. At this point Chic-Fil-A is the only restaurant left that I can tolerate.

Tonight after eating Jack In The Box, (don't ask me why I got it. I don't know and it was a bad decision), I feel completely sick. I had to lay on the floor for about 10 minutes about to puke as visions of the documentary Super Size Me danced in my head. It brings to mind one of my favorite stand up comedy routines by Kevin James, Sweat The Small Stuff. He says eating fast food makes him feel like a grizzly bear who was shot with a sedative dart.

And here I am literally rolling on the ground breathing heavily and groaning like a wounded bear. I hate fast food.

If you haven't seen his stand up routine, then you should. Watch it here.

Two Cents on Soccer

“Nothing can help me care about soccer. It’s the most popular sport in the world, probably because it’s cheap to play. It costs a ball. And once every four years America pretends to care about it. And yes I call it soccer, don’t correct me, because I don’t care what they call it in other lands, I speak America. Sorry world, we already have football and it’s way better. It’s supposed to be played by 300 lb men at 8 seconds at a time. Not 5 foot 6 inch fairies lightly jogging for three hours, or however long your game is. Buy a scoreboard. It’s hard for me to get into a sport that I mastered at the age of 7. Excuse me if I don’t get revved up for this corner kick that never works. Hooray! The game ends without a single goal. I want to kill myself when an NBA team doesn’t break a hundred. That’s because you don’t get a free taco. Maybe there’d be more scoring if they weren’t flopping all the time. Hey hooligans, instead of killing players that screwed up, can you murder the ones that fall down and cry because their toe got stepped on? The only good thing about soccer is the movie Ladybugs. That’s a classic. Don’t try to redo it Hollywood. But it’s nice to have an activity that terrorists can excel at. Enjoy your 15 minutes Algeria then go back to being number one at car bombs. But just know the only reason you are beating us is because our best athletes are busy playing real sports.”


I want to give this monologue to every person that I know who I have never heard mention soccer until this last month.

My Loyal Wrist Rest

I receive lots of fan mail. Here is a recent question.

"Sarah, your blog is absolutely amazing. It must take you hours to write each magnificent post. How do you ever manage while still keeping an eye on your dog?"

Good question. You can see here that the easiest and most sensible option is to have him act as a keyboard wrist rest. The curves of the body actually make it ergonomic, so I can blog in complete comfort.




Busy moms who also blog about family life or coupon clipping can implement this same tactic with their children.

Father Forgive Me, For I Have Read Twilight

So I have to admit a guilty pleasure of mine. The secret is a burden I have been carrying for a while...Twilight. There I said it. Now it's out there in the universe and cannot be taken back. I love the Twilight series. I know this is an invitation for social rejection from most any man, but it's a risk I am willing to take.

At first I absolutely, positively wasn't going to read those stupid books. Over my dead body would you find me reading some romance novel about High School, vampires and werewolves. Puh-lease. Do I look like an idiot? Apparently so...because I was repeatedly told how much I would like them. After about the 104th time of "Oh my gosh you HAVEN'T read Twilight?? Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!!" I finally wore down and bought a cheap version at Wal-Mart. Saying that I could not put the book down for three days straight doesn't quite paint the picture well enough. If I was eating breakfast, I was reading Twilight. If I was waiting for class, I was reading Twilight. If I was bored in class, I was reading Twilight. If I was cooking and could manage it, I was also reading Twilight. And of course in all my other spare time, I was reading Twilight. I'm not saying that this is Pulitzer Prize winning material. Stephenie Meyer is just a great storyteller who can pull you into the book. It's kind of like if you watch Lost on DVD and you tell yourself, "I can't stop here, just one more episode"....and then you watch the first three seasons of Lost in about 5 days (yes maybe that's a true story). She just knows how to keep the reader on the cusp of the next exciting/heart-throbbing/tear-dropping moment. I know, I know, you can go throw up now if you need to.

So with all four of the books under my belt before the first movie even released, of course I am going to go see every single one of them. For Twilight I went to the midnight release. It wasn't that bad because my strategy was to pick a po-dunk theater in the boonies of Utah where they didn't have enough theaters or seats for it to be crazy. That worked out pretty well. Although I did have to stand in line with two single 40 year old women in gothic/vampire garb discussing who would actually get to have Edward when he busted through the door professing his love for both of these slightly unattractive, overzealous fans.




However, I was very disappointed with the film itself. It was like watching a badly done Lifetime movie. New Moon was a little better. I waited until it came out on DVD to watch it, in case it was a waste of money as well. I think it's only redeeming quality was the Ferrari and everything filmed in Italy. Plus, let's not lie to ourselves, Taylor Lautner without a shirt on was pretty much the thing that made us walk away saying it was a good movie.

Slightly let down from the first two movies I complied to go with my mom, aunt and cousin to the midnight release of Eclipse. After all, since I wasn't having to pay, what was the harm? We got to the theater 45 minutes beforehand knowing we wouldn't have a great seat, but probably at least a semi-decent one. Wrong. The entire theater was filled with the exception of the front row. Cinemark thought it would be a genius idea to let people in for seating hours beforehand. However they didn't care to monitor if people were actually going into the theater they had purchased tickets for. You tell me how it's possible to have about 30 people standing at the front of the theater with their tickets for the 12:25 show and there are about 10 open seats. Do the math, Cinemark. I was told that I could sit in an overflow theater where I could hope to get a seat if all the showtimes didn't fill up. This is somehow feeling like the iPhone 4 all over again. So I pulled out my gun and shot all the stupid teeny boppers who were in the seats we paid for. Not really.

With tail between our legs we got rain checks and went later in the week. I was pleasantly surprised. Overall the cinematography, art direction, special effects and acting far surpassed the previous films. It makes me actually look forward to Breaking Dawn. However I have decided to retire my line waiting skills for now and take up something more practical...like the bowstaff.

To'short

I had winter-foot-itis and was ready to get rid of it, so today I got a pedicure. I love pedicures because: 1) I get a leg massage. 2) Freshly painted toenails are the bees knees.

So I get to the nail salon and a little Vietnamese woman takes me to a pedicure chair. I immediately turn it on full back massage and pick up the closest tabloid. As I am enjoying the little jacuzzi for my feet the Vietnamese woman says something. As usual I have no idea what she is saying so I ask her to repeat herself. After about three times I realize what she is saying. "Yo toes to'short." Really?? Jerkface. I wanted to tell her she was too short, but then I figured she probably wouldn't understand. So I gave her a half smile and pretended to be fascinated in a picture of Taylor Swift at some charity thing. There goes my career as a foot model and my self esteem all in one swift blow.

I have decided that in my next life, to avoid this same conversation I will have these feet instead of my baby marshmallow toes.

iPhone 4

For a couple of weeks now my sister Genevieve has been jonesin' for a new iPhone 4. Being the pushover that I am and since I quite literally have nothing else to do I told her I would wait in line with her all night so she could get one. I thought I would regret that but it was probably the strangest, yet most fun experience I have had in a while.

4:00 AM: We showed up because we didn't feel the need to be one of the weirdos with a tent, etc who was there all night. The line was outside of the mall and only about 20 people deep. Suckas! We slept in our beds and are only just barely behind you in line. But as time went on and we decided to venture, we quickly saw that every entrance of the mall had at least 20 people waiting to storm in. Crap. So we got our strategy down. The doors would open at 5:00 AM and we would get in the two lines that were closest to the Apple store and see who could get the best spot in line. Genius, I know.

5:00 AM: Some poor security guard shows up to unlock the door and everyone's mouths start foaming as they press their sneakers into the cement, ready to run. The 19 year old guard in a Smokey The Bear get up sheepishly tells us not to run, etc. and that the lines will meet up at the entrance of the store with everyone maintaining their spot in line. After opening the door all goes well for about .35 seconds when someone decides to run. Our basic animal instincts of survival of the fittest kick in as we all start trampling down the door and sprinting through the empty mall. The scene was somewhere between a stampede of wildebeests from Planet Earth and the zombies in the 1970's Dawn of the Dead. Genevieve's line ended up being way closer than mine so we were actually within the first 75 or so people. Behind us were at least a few hundred others. As far as we're concerned we survived the worst of it, now we just have to wait for the doors of the store to open and we will be set. Wrong.

7:00 AM: As we are sitting and enjoying free Chic-Fil-A, Nestle cookies and Smart Water something weird happens. It is comparable to the beginning of America's Got Talent or a concert as all the geeky guys who work at Apple begin running from the food court down our line. They are screaming and holding out their hands for high fives. Nerds receive few glory days, so they had decided to make the most of this one. At this point they tell us that there is going to be a second line forming on the opposite side of the store for Preorders. They tell us that for every 50 people they let go from Preorders they will let 5 people go from our line. Crap. All this time masses of people have been showing up and we're probably up to at least five or six hundred iPhone hungry people. Then over half of the line proceeds to go to the other line while I silently weep in the corner over the injustice Apple has created. Of course we all TRIED to preorder, but their website just couldn't handle the traffic of over half the US population trying to preorder at once. I felt discriminated against. The rich, fast internet connection owners were sitting pretty while all of us low class dial up and slow connection peasants were moved to the bottom of the totem poll.

They start letting people in and I hate every person who walks out the door with an iPhone 4 as they wave it in the faces of everyone in our line. We aren't moving at all while the preorders are cycling through quickly. The 50:5 ratio was true in every sense.

10:30 AM: We are about 10 feet closer to the entrance of the store. I can't tell if it's because we are actually moving or now we are all breathing down the neck of the person in front of us. All the while we have maintained our spirits because we have been continually reassured that our position in line is basically guaranteed an iPhone, it's just a game of waiting at this point. Then a man who looks like a manager comes out with two police officers. This doesn't look good. He has brought protection. He then proceeds to tell us that nobody left in our line will probably get an iPhone 4. What?? Oh no he din't. Needless to say it's a good thing he brought protection because the animal instincts had returned. Everyone was like rabid chimpanzees grabbing the ropes keeping us in line, screaming and flailing everywhere. It was so crazy that people in line started yelling at each other. "Hey angry white trash man, why don't you stop yelling at the manager so we can have our shot at him." I planned my exit strategy. There was only a kiosk of bellybutton rings between me and the emergency exit. I expected the SWAT team with protective masks, shields and bean bag guns would show up for crowd control. However the ripple of the anger only last about 10 minutes. We all decided that Steve Jobs was the most ignorant man in existence for such a ridiculous system. The mix up had happened because everyone who was there was allowed to buy 2 iPhones, but they had only reserved 1 for each preorder. So all the preorder people were buying our iPhones. They tried to console us by telling us to get in another line that was starting that was to get on a list to get into a line for tomorrow. So we split up again with me maintaining our position in line.

11:30 AM: The same store manager reappears and all of the sudden they now magically have enough iPhones for some of us. We are all brimming with tears of joy and praising Steve Jobs as the most wonderful man in existance. Apple is by far the most brilliant company in existence and we are once again it's loyal followers. So the manager has a tally list and starts working his way down the line. We got on the list, but the cutoff was literally like 10 people behind us. If we'd have been just a footstep slower our fate would have differed.

12:30 AM: We have completed the 50 foot journey from our spot in line to the front of the Apple store. The store smells of new electronics and plastic glory. Genevieve and I bask in the glory of the small, yet perfect iPhone 4 box. I never knew a piece of technology could hold this much sway on your happiness.

All in all it was a weird experience where we made many friends and had a lot of good laughs. I think Apple planned it this way though, just to let all of us consumers know that they held the reigns and to make us want the iPhone 4 more than life itself. It worked.

Man's Best Friend...?

My one solace in the fiasco of moving has been that I would have my dog, Toby, to soften the blow. However, the little rat has become a trader. My parents recently updated from their bird Caroline to a Yorkie named Georgia. They shouldn't buy pets, instead they should put them on a three year lease. My mom's attention span and capability to love runs out quickly with animals. None the less, Georgia now resides with us and has stolen my Toby from me. It is a battle of the women over who's man he really is. Georgia has had the trump card this entire time since she is also 4 lbs and covered in hair. Yet I have something she doesn't, opposable thumbs. To win him back I have been sneaking him lots of unhealthy table scraps and giving him extra belly rubs. Finally today my tactics have succeeded. He is once again glued to my ankles. I think he felt bad for abandoning me because during our nap today he curled up on my neck and nestled his head under mine. It was a sweet enough gesture that I am considering taking him back, but he has to work harder to regain my full trust. For now though, I am happy to have my Toby-boy once again.

White Horse

So I'll be the first one to tell you that Taylor Swift is some kind of weird teenage fad that I just don't get. Up to this point all I knew of her was that Romeo Juliet song which I have heard a million and three times. But after some recent exposure by my sister to some of her music and being at the back end of a break up, her music is making a lot more sense. Crazy screaming fan? No. Okay with listening to her music? Yes. It's primarily based on teenage angst and heartbreak, but at times one needs a good cry or stick-it-to-em song to rock out to. Tonight when we were out driving this song came on and the floodgates opened.



Melodramatic? Perhaps. True? Yes.

C'est Moi

Due to a new found plethora of time I have decided to take the dive into the blogging world. I know, I know...a little late to the game. But what the heck, right? I thought for my first post it would be beneficial to give a little background on who I am and how I got here. I am a 22 year old graduate from Brigham Young University with a degree in Illustration who currently resides in my parents spare bedroom. I guess you could say I am earning a degree in life right now as opposed to actually applying the degree I have already obtained. I grew up in this same house in Allen, Texas for the larger part of my life. Being raised in the South (Carolinas and Texas), I am a firm believer in Southern hospitality, true gentlemen and fried food. I am a middle child. I have an older brother and a younger sister. Consequently, I have been diagnosed with classic 'middle child syndrome.' In fact just recently my mom was looking at our childhood scrapbooks and said she had done my siblings' but not the scrapbook for the 'other one'. The 'other one' is me. However my family is by far the most important thing in my life. I have found out the hard way that through thick and thin, despite how hard you try, you cannot be rid of them...and I need people like that in my life. After living a settled life in Utah for the past four years, I have been thrown back into the rat race and am struggling to find my way. You could currently peg me as a 15 year old living in a 22 year olds body. I have no job, no home, practically no money and absolutely no idea what I am doing. I left all of that behind to start a new book in my life. Some people say they are starting a new chapter. For me this phrase is completely insufficient, it implies you are merely moving forward while building upon the past. I however, with the exception of my loyal dog Toby, am starting anew. So hopefully this blog will chronicle my future adventures and act as my personal peanut gallery. Or at least as a place to share my random joys and laughs with whoever cares to listen. Enjoy.