Leaning tower of bracelette

Monday, February 21, 2011

I am a bracelet queen. Bracelets are kind of my thing. If it's roundish and fits my wrist...I'll take it. I've been told that because of this fetish I am a hippy child. Whatever the reason, I wear a menagerie of bangles on my wrists, heavy on the left side. These make up only half of the bracelets in my ownership.

From top to bottom:

  • EFX neoprene surfer's band
  • A large colorful handful of crazy bands, shapes include: unicorns, fairies, magic lamps, dragons.
  • Some fake, but really sweet pearl bracelets
  • Two Support The Troops bands
  • Awesome sauce handmade Argentinian bracelet
  • A wire and rubberband made by Tanner Lewis
  • Slap bracelet with "I <3 JESUS" found in the Joann's parking lot
  • Polar plunge bracelet from doing the 2011 polar plunge
  • Another pearl bracelet...separated from the others
  • Bridgerland Applied Technology College memo band (my place of employment)
  • Green and purple pipe cleaner bracelet made by yours truly
  • Big thick green PEACE bracelet attained from Rue 21
  • A fantastic Green Earth band
  • Lots of turquoise beady bracelets
As you can see in the picture I also have another bracelet taking residence on my wrist. A double EFX band for balance and serenity.

The bracelets that have permanent residency on my wrist: a baseball seam tied to fit my wrist from a baseball in a park, a horse hair bracelet from my horse Rho, usually a hair band for wayward hair, and a friendship bracelet I made for myself. I have multiple bands for charities and causes that occupy my jewelry box at home. And I just made a purchase of rope bracelets from Downeast Basic. I plan to continue to add to my already abundant collection of bracelets and bands and bangles until I feel that it is complete.

Which will be never.


Flimsy flamsy

Sunday, February 20, 2011

So...I know all of you wonderful people are getting sick of the fickleness of my template design choices. I have indeed been quite dissatisfied with nearly every design I've had thus far until now. I was able to design this one on my own for the most part and I absolutely adore it!!! I want to say that I'll keep this one for ages but I am quite a flimsy flamsy so there is no guarantee...

But I hope that all of you enjoy it as much as I do and that it is aesthetically pleasing to all who visit the awesomeness it contains.


Books of paradise

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

There are many times in my life when I just need to cuddle up on the couch or curl up on my bed and read a good book! 

Sometimes I*m in the mood for a gushy-like-gushers; cheesy-like-the-delicious-squeaky-kind; sappy-as-a-pine-tree romance novel. Other times I*m in need of an honest to goodness C.S. Lewis novel for some deep soul searching and philosophical ponderances. Every night I crack open the Book of Mormon (1) for some serious studying to find life changing answers and comforting words. When I*m up for it I*ll grab a Sherlock Holmes mystery and puzzle my way through it. 

But the books I will never tire of. The books that capture my attention every time I look at the cover. Books with cunning wit. Books of stunning insight and out-of-this-world knowledge. Books that make me laugh until I cry or cry until I laugh. Books that change my life. 

These are books of the paradisical glory of which I speak...

Me and my awesome nose...oh; and the book is there too.
The Complete Book of Nose Etiquette
 ...and other nasal matters
written by Dr. Doight du Nez
drawings by Steve Bjorkman

Never before have I stumbled upon such a work of greatness. Well...it was more my uncle. He was foraging through his old room and its remaining occupants and brought it up to us. I snatched it and haven*t relinquished it since. With amazing depictions of the different nose types in existence; the book describes the 7 basic nose types; discusses the different booger removal techniques available; and even lists some easy do-it-yourself ways to get the nose you*ve always dreamed of. This is by no means light reading.

If you can see my eyes...you might be ninja...
The Ninja Handbook
This book looks forward to killing you soon
Official product of the International Order of Ninjas

This wondrously sneaky book came as a not-so-surprise Christmas gift from an esteemed foe of mine. As is his nature; he tends to think that I need help in this area (little does he know I wrote Section II deducing your ninja level and Section IV the skills of a ninja). In this book it discusses secrets of the elite ninja lifestyle. As the title denotes it is a handbook of sorts. But as with everything else that is awesome; being a ninja goes far and beyond what is contained in this teeny tiny book as all real ninjas well know. 
note: there are serious penalties to those who read this book and disperse the actual contents of its pages...you have been warned...
I*m just a small town girl trying to figure things out...
This Is NOT A Book
Written by Keri Smith creator of Wreck This Journal

This Is NOT A Book was an interesting item to come across. It really isn*t a book. I didn*t read it. Every page contains a new adventure to be performed by the owner (me). From creating Treasure Maps to Psychological mood-altering machines to Kits for boring events. This book is stuffed with crazy random missions for the bored-out-of-your-mind type people or people who need some serious awesomeness in their lives. Some day when I*ve completed all of the pages inside...I will be so mind-bogglingly fantastic no one will know what to do with me.

Well...that is assuming they know what to do with me now...as a normally fantastic person...


Person deja vu and heroes

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The weather in Logan; a cloudless sky which causes convectional blinding coldness and a wind chill that drops the temperature by another million degrees; can get kind of cold. As previously discussed; I dislike the cold. I don*t look up much when I feel like my face is being frozen off of my head.

Walking to Institute (1) I have the wind at my back so I take more opportunity for people watching.

A boy is walking towards me that looks familiar and as he gets closer; I deduce that he looks similar to a boy from one of my classes. Either way I don*t know him so I pass him by without a second thought.

Short cuts through buildings further protects my body it*s inevitable demise from the arctic weather outside. Many people pass me by; strangers; friends; and familiar faces. I chat with a few and greet a few more. I near the exit of my building and see a boy who looks just like the kid from my class...


It*s the same kid I just passed not too long ago! Same hat; same coat; same backpack; and strangely enough; same facial expression.

How the ~BEEP~ did he get all the way on the other side of campus in time to pass me again?! Had I just witnessed a Superman at work?

Without any other explanation available...I*m gonna have to go with yes.


Undertable activities of fun-ness

Friday, February 4, 2011

I live in a land of extreme cold weather. It is Utah. It*s the way it is here. Logan is a college town. I am a college student. Logan and I met. Cold and I don*t like each other. Logan and I are really good friends despite that bad relationship. My apartment isn*t very good at guarding against the cold. With little insulation; thin walls; and leaks in most diverse places; cold doesn*t need to be sneaky to find its way into my humble abode.

However; my roommate and I have done some research. There are ways recently discovered to reduce the effects of chilling (a symptom of cold*s presence). I came down the stairs to find her under the dining table where the heater is. Genius!! I warmed my rice bag and grabbed a blanket to join her underneath the table. 

And thus it commenced...

Pan*s idea not mine...

Ducky!! Yep! Yep! Yep!

This is my lost orphan hair

Besides this we watched fabulous youtube videos; an episode of Lie To Me; and playing on my computer. The best part was...we stayed warm!


Dweam wiffin a dweam

Tuesday, February 1, 2011


Snow is stacked around the road in plowed piles. Pine trees make a high skyline and through their hallways a dark and spacious warehouse opens. To the side of the mountain road a mining pit. Tiny figures pick at the rocks and small explosions spatter the mine. Formless people mill around the constricted open area; disappearing and reappearing with little purpose other than to exist in my mind.

From the deep blurry forest a Tyrannosaurus Rex bursts into the scene. Frantic movements of the figures becomes a haze in my peripherals. My limbs feel sluggish and my vision can*t seem to clear as I search for a hiding space from the huge carnivorous creature. A dugout; only tall enough for me and just as wide as a person across the shoulders; appears in the ground at the top of the hill with a few hiders in it already. I drop down inside and wait for the all*s clear.

A military march is heard in the distance. Soundless voices urge my escape. Only I can get away fast enough to come and rescue them from the overrule of the foreign military. I run up the hill and down through the warehouse. My computer and its cord are in my hands. It is essential that I keep it.

The officers of the brigade enter the warehouse moments after I run down the stairs. My fingers lose their grip on the computer. I look towards the opening to the upper floor and the leader looks at me with calculating eyes. He points at me and I weave and jump through the bottom floor to safety.

I am in the city now. I make my way into the Taggart Student Center. I find an elderly man who puts his arm around my shoulder; shielding me from the view of the occupant soldiers. His wife comes to my other side and guards me there. A soldier comes and tries to see my face. I keep it turned away and make my escape outside. I somehow find myself on babysitting duty. They only get to have 10 minutes to play outside.

At the close of their playtime; barrels of various colors float down from the sky. They melt into the ground where the storehouse resides. We wait in line; first come; first served. I come second after the first unlucky man. I turn to the boy behind me and we walk away trying to keep our spirits up. The front man attacks me and thrusts me up to the wall by my shoulders.

I push him away several times but each successive attack he gets stronger. My fists pummel his face but seem to have lost their substance. I feel completely helpless. I don*t have the strength I can feel in my anger. Something is wrong. My limbs don*t have strength at all. With one final attempt at escape from the evil man; I punch his face with everything left inside me and the jolt wakes me.


I look around. I*m in my room. Thank heavens. It was a dream. Odd. I*m not in my bed. I crawl out from under the covers and look to see that I am in fact at the foot of my roommate*s bed; scrunched into a ball and she is still asleep. I slip out onto the floor. I swear I don*t sleep walk. Perhaps tonight had disproved that. I stand up and look around. There isn*t much light seeping in through the blinds. It must still be night time.

Well I don*t feel too sleepy. A television sits on a dresser that has somehow replaced the head of my bed in the corner. I toggle the switches and look for a channel to watch. A female news reporter; in front of a red background; rambles on indistinguishably about something boring but I can*t seem to get away from this channel. My other roommates are still asleep so I try to find the volume button. It can*t be found. The television gets louder and louder. I panic because I don*t want to wake them all up. The noise eventually wakes me.


I*m in my old apartment in Old Farm. I*m laying on the ground between Sally and Charlie; my feet propped up on Sally*s armrest. The lights downstairs are all off and the hallway light upstairs shines down the stairs and through the bars of the stair railing. A movie is on and shadows of people I know sit on the couches attentive to its story. I try to sit up and my body won*t move. I*m so tired. I can*t seem to keep my eyes open. I can*t make anything move. My eyelids close but then flutter open as I come awake.


I*m in my bed. My clock blinks early morning. My eyelids are heavy and my mind is grateful for the promised rest until my alarm is actually set to go off. I close my eyes and go back to sleep to find blurry dreams and sluggish fantasies.


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