I'd like to give ya some advice.

First off! You must, you simply must check out this side of the "butt story". It's from Lindsay's perspective, so you'll really be able to understand the whole of what happened. Read away!

Now.

I'm probably just being dramatic, as per ushue...but goodbyes SUCK. Almost as much as a vacuum. But not that much. Don't be getting crazy readers!

I'm a romantic. I'll admit it. But not necessarily a romantic in the form of dealing with candlelit dinners, or sky-writing "will you marry me", (although, if you do propose to me while skydiving, even if I don't know you, done. I'm sold. I will have your children. Now that's romance.)

Instead, I just have a certain expectation for the future. A lot of times it actually kind of screws me over. I get my expectations up or I picture things a certain way. That's why being president was probably a bad decision. I wanted to make everyone's memories for them! It's frustrating, but you simply can't do that and if people aren't having fun at something you put together, you just gotta realize...That's their own damn fault.

 I always super romantize about doing things now so that I can remember them in the future. Ya know? Does that make any sense? I normally don't when I talk, so let me explain.

My mind-set before I decide to do something is more or less, will my kids and or grandkids think this story is awesome? My grandpa played ice hockey, with cars and a rubber tube, on a frozen lake, during the winter, while growing up in vernal. Who does that?! Well geez, I would freaking love to!

Mainly because, (WARNING: Jeannie's blog is about to get a little bit contemplative and could possibly be annoying if you are expecting funny times blogging, today is pensive blogging, but important blogging! I dare you to read on!)

Mainly because I'm terrified that with all this technology, my kids won't have an imagination and that's what I consider to be my most prized possession.

Take this post secrets for example:

My thoughts are: I don't ever want to lose her! But then I'm really scared, because what if I do? What if I get a job at a desk, in a cubical, from 9-5 and forget about that one time I snuck into the U soccer stadium and peed on the grass! It's scary. It really is. It's probably my biggest fear.

It might be dangerous for me to say that to an audience full of peers. Or even to an audience full of strangers. You may mock me. Maybe you'll even see me a bit differently. But you need to know that you can't do this either. You really can't.

I gotta emphasize this. That's why I'm writing about it of course! No matter your age, just remember, there will always be people willing to listen to your stories, so go out and make one! Go out and make a memory. Go out and streak in broad daylight. Go out and offer free hugs to people. Go out and test yourself. I don't care what you do, you just can't be afraid to DO IT.

I don't think I'll ever stop wanting to make forts, or have nurf gun fights. I don't ever think I'll ever not laugh at a fart joke. I just won't! I don't want to stop. You have to hold onto the things that remind you of being a kid. Even if it is immature. Because I believe those will be the things that truly keep you going in life.

Find the kid in you and release it. It wants to be free, and once it is, you'll never want to lock it up again.

Well, that's what I think at least.


P.S. If you're reading this soon after I put it up here, come back later, it may be revised and updated. My first drafts are never as suitable as I want them to be, but I really wanted to post. I was getting anxious (suprise suprise)

Enjoy!

Butt you see. I'll never be the same.

Have you ever held a stranger's butt in your hands? Like hard core, two fisting action, stranger butt. In. Your. Hands? 

This sounds like it's going somewhere bad. Just hear me out!

Last night a friend and I went to the Band of Horses concert. Twilight series style. It was my first interaction with a concert in this series. I had never been to one before and I enjoy Band of Horses oh so much, and the tickets were only 5 bucks so I'm thinking, why the heck not. 

Herewego.

Linds and I pushed our way to the front of the pack. Ya know, into the section where the sober people kind of tend to fizzle out, and the smell of weed is so fresh you might throw up. It's prime. I'd stand there every moment of my day if I could. 

We were in so deep that our arms couldn't move. They were plastered to our bodies. Because of all the people that were around us, we were physically unable to move. But also! because our bodies were so drenched in salty water, our arms were literally STUCK to our bodies. They wouldn't budge. Even if you got a crowbar in the there, it would be useless. Think about it.


(also just an FYI to the world. Never wear shirts that are any color besides darkness or totally white. The in-betweens just let the world see how much of a sweaty, salt monster you actually are. Oh me? Ya I had pit stains that just decided to surpass the sanctuary of my pits and head straight on, half-way down my torso. Gettin all dem boys.)


So the songs started and all the sudden we were in a sea of bodies. Well we already were in a sea of bodies, but then they started acting like an actual sea! Waves. There were crashing waves of drunken teenagers that swayed us from side to side. Forward and back. All around. I would be looking at the stage, then I would be pressed into some guy's back, next I would be in a tree, then all the sudden I would be on the ground! 


Rule number one of mosh pits. DON'T FALL DOWN.


So naturally, Linds and I both made our way to the ground. 


I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. Those stories about people getting trampled are real! They are real stories! Not just trying to scare us. They are really real stories! Holy crap!


I found out later, the same things were going through Lindsay's head. 


So I'm on the ground, fighting for the right to straighten my legs out and remove the terror from my heart. But then, I look over at Lindsay to make sure she was safe.

She wasn't.

Out of no-where, this giant butt begins pressing it's cheeks right on top of Linds' head. Like she was a human bar-stool er somethin!
No lady! You stand at concerts! You do not get to sit on my friend's head!

I had to save Lindsay. I had to. I simply had to. It was my duty as a person and because that just seems like a terrible way to die.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your daughter. Do you mind if I asked what happened?"
"Oh no of course. You see, she was squashed. By a big butt. It just sat on her. I was told she felt no pain, just a lot of pressure. From the butt. Because it was so big. And it sat on her."
"No ya, I get it."
"Sat on her..."
"Ya no, I know."
"A butt."

Butt in order to save her, I had to get right up in there and remove the butt myself. Manually. I took my trained keeper hands, put them in the double-u shape I was taught at a very young age to use while catching a ball, and placed two hands on one cheek. ONE CHEEK. I exerted more force in that moment then I ever have before. I was like that mom who lifted a bus to save her child, that one time. That was me!
Cept interchange bus with giant buttocks and mom with superhero. The BCM if you will! (the butt-cheek master)  


NOPE. That's a terrible superhero name. I take it back! I take it all back! 


*scary voice* YOU CAN'T.


Right well. Moving on.


The person was probably all, "Yo man. Why somebody be grabbing my not-so-rosy cheeks? You aint no toilet. You don't get to touch that!"

We had to get out of there. People in the mosh pit were crazy son. Cray-Ze. Word.

I think my brother Chris put it best though. When I told him Lindsay was almost killed in the pit by a serial sitter, he replied simply by saying...

"She was almost moshed potatoes."

Pure. Gold.

Never alone! Hurah!

I've made new plans with my life (gosh, they're changing every second, aren't they?)

I've decided to become a whittler. You heard me! I know you can, and I know you're jealous.

Check check. I made a boat out of soap.

Don't act like you're not impressed. Word.

So I've come up with three new options for next summer.

1. Run soccer summer camps with colleges and or put up fliers around town and run my own camps (bank son)
2. Try to get an internship in L.A. and live with Brenda. (*singing* makin wise decisions for my future)
3. Become a river rafting guide. (that way I can never shave and live in peace about it!)

I turn 18 in two days now. The big 'ol ONE EIGHT. I doubt things will be different, but who knows, maybe there's a secret society that you are not allowed to know about until you turn 18. Everyone is just really really good at keeping secrets.

I'm gonna ruin the society! Ha. Nah. I'm uber good at keeping secrets. Suriously. I'm like a priest in that respect...but ya know, not in any other respect pretty much...

Does that intrigue you? Are you now curious what I have going on in my brain?
"What does Jeannie know?" You ask.
"EVERYTHING." I reply.

I really wanna turn something into Post Secrets. Oh what's that? You've never heard about it? Let me teach you a little bit of the "everything" that I know.

CLICK THIS!  You were taken to a magical world weren't you? One full of secrets from strangers? It's fantastic there.

Read about it. Learn. Soak in the knowledge. Breathe in the beauty of other people in the world sharing the same fears, embarrassments, experiences, and really all things with you. You're not so alone anymore are you?

I know I'm not.

*mumbles* Oh.

So I have a week left. Yup. That's it.

A week to say goodbye to practically everyone in the world! (woah...I just thought about how hard that would be)

Well. The other day I made a slingshot with my buddy 'ol pal Lindsay. It only took 5 or so hours. I named it Dakota. I'm shamelessly proud of it. *glances over to Dakota with a glint in my eyes*

HOLY CRAP I HAVE NO BRAIN.

Seriously. It's so dead right now. I just figured I should post something, since it's only been 500 or so years. YEARS.

Oh no. Does that mean all my followers are dead? Gosh. Well. This. Is. Awkward.

One time I was bit by a bird. He left a scar on my left hand right in between my index and middle finger. *stops and looks at hand* Actually, now that I look at it, it seems he bit me more on my middle finger. The bird bit my bird. (get it? Eh?). Moving on. The moral of this story is the bird's name was Cuddles.

I was bit by a bird named Cuddles.
My family has never ridiculed me so much. I don't think any family has ridiculed any member of their family so gosh darn much.


Right right, well. I'll stop rambling and give you guys a task.
Your homework is to listen to this.
(remember that when I can't think what to post about I just give you music. BREAK)

NOW ENJOY. I COMMAND YOU TO.

Are you calling me fat?

No No! I was just trying to explain to you the vast pig collection I have. Sorry if you thought I was calling you a pig. I was simply trying to take you on a trip to my past. Buckle up folks!

So. When I was about 8 or so I was given a stuffed pig. He was the best thing I ever could have asked for. I named him Fredrick Corkscrew Pig. He was practically my childhood. I took him everywhere. I couldn't sleep without him. (I had these crazy night-type terrors when I was younger, they were oh-so fun, and I couldn't even try to sleep without him). 


Fredrick created this passion within me. I had found my new obsession. And you all don't understand, (except for maybe my mama), I'm like a crazy person. Once I find an obsession, I literally can not stop talking about it. And I talk A LOT. So just picture little pre-preteen Jeannie non-stop, hardcore talking about pigs. PIGS. Ah I loved them.


As a result, they were all I received for Christmases or Birthday's or really any occasion where presents were appropriate.

I recently opened a trunk that has been at the bottom of my bed for about 8 years now, without being opened. I opened it for college packing times. (I feel like a Harry Potter character! Another post soon to come...) Nervous as to what I might find, I had an idea of my pig collection, but I had forgotten how vast it is.

Take a little look here.

There are upwards of 25 stuffed pigs stashed in that pile. TWENTY FIVE. And there are more still out and about in my room. Little plastic ones I got on my ninth birthday from my friend Zel. 

Let me go through some of my favorites. 

We'll start with her. As you can see, she has two little piggies suckling on here teet (*shutters* that word). You guessed it! Here sewed on nipples are definitely magnetic. The piglet's baby snouts magnetize perfectly. Aweeee. There's one missing though. The little brown piggy. I miss him so.

MOVING ON.

LOOK AT HIS EYES. I dare you to say no. Just try! If he pooped all over my bed I'll tell you this, the moment he would look into my eyes, all would be forgiven. I'm a sucker for some good puppy dog eyes. Or in this case. Stuffed pig eyes. Hay!

NEXT:

He's a puppet. A PUPPET. 'Nough said. That's all. Everyone can go home now. (but wait wait! The post is not over, just hold on, deal?)

This one is probably one of my favorites. But look close. You might notice something a little bit different about this guy.......

Have you gotten there yet? Let me give you a little hint.

HE'S A BEAR. 

I got him as a present at a birthday one year, and they were all,

"I know you love pigs Jeannie!"

*hesitant* "Thaannks." (In my mind) It's a bear. It's a bear. It's a bear. It's a freaking bear man!

Whatever I count him anyways. No pig left behind right?...or Bear?

This is an identical replica of what my dear, sweet Fredrick looked like. Cept this guy is much much more clean. Look how adorable! Gosh I miss Fredrick. I can't believe I'm going to college without my best friend!

Oh how did I lose him you ask?...
I didn't. He was KIDNAPPED *gasps*

The year was 2008. I was at summer camp, living in a yurt, learning that sweat was an actual thing, and with Fredrick right by my side, I was invincible!

Until that fateful morning.
I left him on my sleeping back for the "clean yurt contest". The winners would get to go get snow cones. The highest luxury on the planet at summer camp, in case you didn't know.

I went back into my yurt at lunch to tell Fredrick of all the crazy shinanagins I had gotten into that day. My glee fell so hard when I walked into that yurt to see what? NOT FREDRICK. It was like a movie when a mother realizes her kids aren't in the house anymore. I might've well have dropped a tray of lemonade all over the ground and screamed. (isn't that what they do in movies?)

The other girls at camp stole him! It was a nightmare. Then when I confronted them about it, they snickered and said they saw him in the pig's pen. I sprinted about as fast as I ever have. But I was still going through puberty, so it was an awkward sprint. Like I was perpetually wearing a pad (boys might have a harder time relating...regardless).

He wasn't there! I rummaged all of camp in search for my bestest of friends. I never found him.


Buddy Bear is now here to relieve some of the pain, but it's been almost a good five years of pain. It's hard to make that better. 

Welp! Now you know about my pigs. The oh so many of them. If you wanna meet them, by all means! Give me a call.

Initiation, the second part of the third-and-probably-not-so-last round.

Okay okay okay. You've been patient and waited long enough.

The rest of the story goes a little something like this.

So the night of the gushing, bloody nose passed, only leaving behind it's memory. But, a new day was approaching, one that would change the fate of MAN. (or at least the fate of the rest of the day)

My room woke up to birds singing in the window. They then helped us get dressed. NOPE. Sorry. That didn't actually happen, although take a moment and picture it..........................weird huh?

We got ready for our game. Shorts? Check. Water bottles? Check. Upset stomach? Well, Check for Maris. I was feeling on top of the world! I could conquer anything! If you would've asked me, "Jeannie. Hey man you're looking great. How you feeling today, champ?" I would've replied with simply a look....

*smiles and stares right into your soul* Now you know how I was feeling. (although that sounds really creepy)

Moving on. We were walking out to catch the elevator. Selman was walking ahead, with my steps right behind hers. Maris was trailing behind a bit. Then, Maris says the five most cliche, yet effective words. "I don't feel so good"

THROW UP.

This time it wasn't on me. Which was nice and refreshing might I add. She just threw up all over the carpet. Immediately after she started saying "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

I was trying to be a good person. I really was. So I ran over to her, while she was still all hunched over from the just-having-thrown-up and all, put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and said.
"Let's get you back to the room and clean you up."

Three...Two...One...

THROWS UP.

This time it was all over me. I'm like a throw up magnet. That'd be a terrible superpower.
"Oh and what super hero are you?"
"Me? I'm the VMK!"
"I'm sorry. The what?"
"You mean you haven't heard of me? The Vomit Magnet Kid?"
"Ohhhhhhhh. I know you! Ya ya! The Uncreatively Named Bandit threw up all over you. Like. All. Over you!"
"Ya but he didn't get away because he was so preoccupied with throwing up!"
"*laughs so hard he throws up on the VMK*"
"*shrugs* It's a gift and a curse."


- Back to Reality -


 I'd thought I'd escaped it! I thought fate had swung and missed this time around. But nope. That's never the case is it? 

But hay! We were and still are great friends after this moment. We're even going to college together! Look at that, guys. Just take a look at that.

So let me just recap for you.
Not only did she give me the bloody nose that could withstand two life-times...but she also threw up on me. A feat that had been completed before, but not with the same withstanding history.

And that's it! There you go! Well, for now that is. College is about to happen (I started packing today and everything is weird), which means a lot of new people, which mean new opportunities to be initiated into friendships.

But they make the best stories don't they?

On A Sidenote

Never really watched this before. But now I freaking can't wait.

At :43 seconds I got major chills. Super powerful stuff right there. Real real powerful.

Also. Take note at 1:07. Those are BLIND SOCCER PLAYERS. What what?
Mind = Blown.

Initiation, part one of the third and I-don't-think-final round

You think it couldn't get worse then throw up all over my body, right? You think that's kinda the final stop on the train of good friend-making abilities? Well let me tell you something.... you are WRONG.

Maris. Oh baby, leave it to Maris to one-up every and all people in the initiation category.

The night was young. The date? Who can remember anymore. The memories begin to fade as time presses forward, leaving only the blood stained shirt and images of Maris repeating the words "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." in my ears, forever lingering.

So lemme break it down for ya. Maris and I both made the ODP traveling team one year, long ago. At the time, we were semi-acquaintances. She had guest-played with my team once or twice before, but our relationship didn't venture any further than the four restricting lines of a soccer field. She was a funny person though, so naturally, I wanted to be her friend.

The team was split into 4 girls a room. Although, I only had three in my room, leaving me with my own bed and the opportunity to sprawl, toss and turn, kick around, and if I really wanted to, sleep naked. The luxury of your own bed. Spectacular in't?

Maris was put into a room with 3 other girls in it. I don't know how it happend, but somehow it was decided to put the three most dirty-minded girls in the same room, along with Maris in the corner cowering as she experienced her first run-in with a thong. And yes, the thong was being worn at the time. Mind you, we were 14. Oh the memories.

From there, Mare-bear decided it was about time to make a change. Not a drastic change, like a sex change or something like that, but merely a room change. She had seen enough butts for one soccer tournament. So, out of the goodness of our hearts, my roommates and I accepted Maris as one of our own. Not only that, but I even gave up the comfort of my own bed, just to please this poor, innocent, scarred girl.

The first night Maris was staying with us is where the initiation began. Before, I had thought she was a funny, quiet girl who wrecked it on the soccer field, but within moments my whole view changed.

I was merely brushing my teeth when Maris tapped me on the shoulder.

"Jeannie."
"Ya wha.."

BAM. POW. Maris punches me straight in the stomach. Then, as I bent over in order to relieve the pain of being PUNCHED IN THE STOMACH. She straight-on, no holding back, full blast, punches me right in the freaking nose! Say goodbye to breathing out of that thing ever again.

Blood. EVERYWHERE. Gushing from my naval cavity. Where there was once clean, flowing air in and out, in and out, there was now bright red blood just pouring out. A waterfall if you will. A waterfall of my own O positive blood.

"Whad da crat Marith?!" I said holding my nose trying to refrain from spouting blood across the walls. It was beginning to look like nothing less than a murder scene.

"I was suppose to hit you on the forehead!"
"So waid. Dis wath on purposthe?!"
"Well, ya. I mean, you're suppose to hit someone in the stomach and then in the forehead so they have to bend over then stand right back up. It's suppose to be funny!"

*sarcastic look* "Hilariouth!"

Huh. I guess when I have bloody noses, I have a lisp. Yup. That sounds about right!


Continuing on, I wasn't really mad. Just more confused. I mean, she had just punched me in the stomach and in the face. Sure, what a completely natural way to treat someone you barely even know. I guess she was simply too short to reach my forehead, so she settled on the nose. Fantastic. 


But it doesn't end there, no way does it end there. But this is getting long and you're probably beginning to lose focus. I'm not offended, I get it. I lose focus so much that...............I literally just forgot was I was going to say. I had a crazy analogy, but I've forgotten it!

In the end, I'll leave you with a cliffhanger so you have no choice but to come back tomorrow and finish out the Maris friendship story. (then maybe my posts will go back to being normal human attention-span length) Until then!

Selman was there for this, and let's just say it brought back some memories....CLIFFHANGER. Dun dun duuuuun.

Initiation round 2

Next in line is Lexe Selman. I was on her team for no more than a year before I was initiated into friendship with her.

Let me bring you back. Back to a time where I was a field player (try not to picture that, it's not pretty AT ALL). I was the new kid on the team. Ya know, the one nobody would talk to. In fact! I was the one everybody more or less hated. Me? They hated me?! It was a sad time in my life. Me being bad at soccer didn't help. Whenever I was put in the game everyone would groan and mutter...
"why the hell..."

I'm sorry! I'm better now!...Or at least I like to think I am.

Regardless of the fact I sucked. My team had won state cup and we traveled to Idaho to participate in the Far West Regionals. It was the first tournament my team went on where we didn't have to stay with our own parents.

Oh the freedom! It was now up to us to make our own life decisions. Stay up late and party? Or go to bed and be prepared? Shower? Or don't shower? (more likely it was the latter). Open a mating Llama farm in our rooms? Or not? The opportunities were endless!   

Okay okay. So that idea was pretty short lived. There were 3 girls and ONE parent. So much for the freedom of saying the word "hell" at will. After all, we were 11 and that word was strictly prohibited. (not that I would've said it. I was terrified if I said one of those type of words I would've been attacked by lotus... or something)

Selman has changed since, but back then, SHE DIDN'T TALK. Maybe once or twice. I'm not sure. I think I heard her say "floor 3" when we were asked which floor our room was on...but it might have just been a gust of wind.

I always wondered what she would do if she was stuck in the bathroom with no toilet paper.

*Imagination*
"Guys. Where's Lexe? It's almost been and hour and a half now."
"Good question. Last I knew she was going to the bathroom."

Then we'd go in to find her in the bathroom just sitting on the toilet, accepting her fate.
*End imagination*

Like I've said. She's changed now. Now she won't freaking SHUT UP. Gosh. (I kid. I only kid!)

The point is. Lexe was one of the 2 other girls in my room. It was one afternoon, after our game, and we were both sitting in the little living-room area of our hotel room, just us two. Naturally, the room was dead silent and we were both snacking on some Oreo's. I mean. We were friends, sure. But not the type where we.......talked. I guess.

All of a sudden, Lexe slowly got up and walked over to where I was sitting. There's Jeannie. Minding her own business, watching some tv and trying to enjoy the nice comfort of her newly acquired Utah Avalanche shirt.

I looked up at Selman and there was this crazy smile on her face. It was like she was some deranged excursus child. I wanted to put my hands on her head and say "Out Devil, Out!".

Then she just opened her mouth and threw up ALL. OVER. ME. She practically was the excursus kid! And it wasn't even an accident! It was like she was sitting across the room premeditating the options on how to release her stomach bile into the world.

"Hmm. Well this is nice. But what's this? I feel the need to hurl. Where should I do it? The toilet? Nah...too original. The garbage? As if! Wait. I've got it! That's it. I'll save this acidy throw up in my stomach, that only consists of Oreos and water, until the perfect moment and then spew it onto Jeannie! Maybe during a commercial? NO! She'll see that coming. Let's throw up on her right during the program."

So. There I was. Enjoying the middle of the program and Lexe just vomits all on my shirt. Just vomits. No stopping. Just full out, opened her mouth, and let the chunk juice fly. Let the initiation begin!

My face was, I'm sure, priceless. Think of a face mixture between the trying to understand face of - "what is that, what is..." and the realization face of - "What the...THAT'S THROW UP!" That's about what my face was. I couldn't stop laughing. I seriously could not. She couldn't stop apologizing. "It was just suppose to be a burp! I swear! Nothing more!"

"So you were just going to burp on me and keep living your life? Who are you?!" *laughing uncontrollably*

You have to remember, this is Lexe Selman. Before that moment, I legit thought she may be a mute. This moment opened up a whole new world. AND a whole new friendship, that is still going might I add.

Oh and ps. I lost that shirt right after that. I took it off, to remove the vomit from my body and never saw it again. Not that I necessarily wanted it back after that little reflex disorder.

Tune in tomorrow to find out how Maris and I began our initiation. And I'll tell you this, she must have really wanted to be my friend.

Initiation...step 1

The initiation into making new friends is rough for me. I can do it, I sure can...make friends and all. But not without suffering a little bit.

Let me explain to you what I mean. There are certain experiences in my life where I just meet people, I try to be their friends, and then all the sudden there's throw up, pee, or blood ALL OVER ME. Look people, all I want to do is be your friend, and how do you repay me?! In some way or another, I have to use a new change of clothes.

It all started in 4th grade. Chandler and I wanted to be Anne Marie's friend so badly. Badly enough that we wrote her a letter telling her we wanted to be her friend (straightforward, right?). Needless to say, she was a bit creeped out. I would've been too, let's be honest. Two small children write to you saying they watched you at recess and realized that you were meant to be friends? Too much for one day, that's for sure. In the end, she fell for our charm. Our poetic letters enticed her enough to give us a chance and have a sleep over with us. Rejoicing was a necessity. 


Chandler and I planned the whole day out. It was fantastic! That is until night time rolled around. I was on the bottom bunk and Chan and Anne Marie were sharing the top. I was dreaming ever so slightly, probably about ice cream and pigs  (I was a little obsessed with pigs back in the day, I still have a stuffed animal collection if any one wants to take a look!) when all the sudden I'm jolted out of my slumber. 


"Jeannie! JeannieJeannieJeannie!" Anne Marie and Chandler's faces were both highly scared and bewilderingly giddy. 


"Huh?" 
"Something happened."
"Dude. Sleep needs to happen."


Then I felt something drip onto me...


"I PEED THE BED." 


Yup. You guessed it. That drip was Anne Marie's urine. Falling onto my head. In the middle of the night. How it soaked through the entire mattress, to this day I'm still baffled.

"You WHAT?!"


Chandler was standing further back.
"Ya and now I'm extremely covered in pee. Can I borrow some clothes?"
Chandler got the worst of it. Well, besides Anne Marie actually peeing her pants, at night, in my bed, when we were barely starting to call each other "friends". Let the initiation begin.

"I cannot believe you peed the bed!"
Anne Marie couldn't stop laughing! She was a 12 year old girl, who PEED THE BED.

Now I know that peeing the bed is a serious problem, and people at 23 years of age still probably deal with it, but she had never had a history of peeing the bed, and in fact, this was her first offence. Thanks for sharing that moment with me, friend!

I dunno how it happened. But it did and there was no going back. We all moved to the floor and I gave each person a new set of clothes. We all swore to secrecy and I had to make up a story as for why my bed smelt like urination.

"Well mom. You see I picked Sammy (my pupsters) and put him on the top bunk. I guess he got really nervous about being up that high and so he peed. He peed all over ma and I couldn't stop it! I think he's afraid of high places. Is there medicine for that or something?"

Classic story. Works every time.

That friendship grew from there. But it may never have started had she not peed all up, in, and around my bed.

Tune in tomorrow to hear about how Lexe and I were initiated into friendship. That story will go down in some sort of history.

Screw it! ANTM for life!

I'm posting twice in one day. Whatchagonnado?!

Plus I've been gone for forever more or less, so posting twice doesn't even make up for all the days I've missed.

I just need to ask the world this question.

Does anybody else pose in front of the mirror practicing to be on America's Next Top Model? Ya know. Gettin the "smies" down and all that? I do it all the time and I just don't want to be alone anymore.

When you put clothes on you take a quick second and just strike a creative pose, then think about how Tyra would critique it, then try to fix it.

I always attempt to elongate my body (I'm not very tall in model world so, that's a must). I also keep my head up and try to purse my lips a little bit. Not slutty pursing guys. Don't be picturing that. Then I move slightly, just to make sure I'm posed differently from frame to frame...ya know, cuz somebody is taking pictures of me all the while (well somebody in my mind at least).

ANYONE. ANYONE?

You gotta make it interesting thought, right? So, if you want my wisdom, be creative. Use your limbs, but make sure it doesn't look like you are limb-less. Tyra will eat you alive for that.

No. No. WAIT. I'm not crazy, really! Don't give me that look. Hey! Don't you walk aw...don't you do it. Don't you walk away from me!

*Realization*
I slightly think I may be a tiny-bit schizophrenic.

The Time Has Come.

To select one lucky young man and wom...WOAH. Sorry. That was weird.

I had freshmen orientation this week. Monday to be exact. It was terribly boring. Holy geez. I fell asleep! Like, if I were a cartoon you would have seen Zzz's coming out of my head. That hard core sleeping. BUT I got free Aggie Blue Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream. Two scoops! And if you don't know me that well yet, I'll let you in on a little secret. I will kill for Mint Ice cream.

I literally will. This needed a whole new paragraph just to emphasize that I would literally KILL A PERSON for it. I mean, let's be honest. I know enough from Law and Order SVU to know how to proficiently hide a body. Premeditated or spontaneous. Don't mess with me kids.

When I was younger, I used to buy gallons of it and just sit on my couch with a towel around the gallon (so I wouldn't freeze my hands of course) as I physically shoveled in scoop after scoop of mint ice cream. One sitting and that bad boy was gone. I was a chub kid. The cheeks especially. That's why I'm so talented at double chin faces *pride*...because I lost the face fat, but the skin stayed! Picture that nice and hard. It's cute.

TANGENT. Sorry. I tend to go on those. My point is, is that signing up for classes (by the way if you were curious I'm taking "Managing Family and Business" as a class. I should stop complaining about that) I digress.

THE POINT IS. I've come to a conclusion at this point in my life. All, and I mean ALL I want to do in life is entertain. Writing movies. TV. Heck, even being a comedian! (although that would kill my confidence). Some way or another I must. So much so that I've even come to terms that I may just have to be the apprentice of that guy who always plays the accordion outside of Jazz games. You know him? He has a beard? A nice face? Welcoming and what not? He makes good money! Slash no he probably doesn't, be he seems happy. Hay.

If you have any advice on that, by all means, hit me with it son. Cuz I'm slightly freaking out.

BUT ONLY SLIGHTLY. WHY WOULD YOU THINK ANYTHING LESS THAN THAT?! I'M NOT NERVOUS AT ALL FOR COLLEGY AND FUTURE LIFE THINGS. *pulls collar out and wipes sweat from forehead while gulping at an unusually loud volume*

More funny things have to happen in my life. Ready. BREAK.

I've missed this.

Tonight's dinner prayer began with "Oh Lordy, Lord. Bless us with some sweet ass food"...then mama cut Chris off and we moved to Michael saying the prayer.

I think that's really all that needs to be said for the night.


I missed blogging. It's true. No jokes! I would do something this week and think, HAY. Blog idea!

But now I'm away for another week. I know, I know! Try to survive without me and my words.

What's that you say? You can't? Look into my eyes.

You can do it. 

AP's? I'd rather think of Bear Lake.

Wanna know what's the worst creation on this planet? Standardized testing. I took two APs. I worked hard. So very hard. I'm pretty sure for most of my calc tests I spent no less then 9 hours studying, ate more chips then my stomach could handle, and almost got fives on my practice tests! And Stats was suppose to be my given

What happens as a result?....I fail them both. Well damn.

I'm not stupid! Or I wasn't at first.

WHO CARES?! Not me. Well I mean. I had to cuddle up with Buddy Bear for awhile (my newly discovered bear child whom I share custody with Aspen. He's like a human...but better!)

But the point is, as my Pop so cheerfully told me as he held up one of my trophies, no matter what else in my life happens, I'm still a Jr. Jazz MVP. So much love right there.

No more angst Jeannie! We made a promise. This blog is for funny times. Deal?
Sorry readers, I must apologize for Jeannie's previous comments. Please don't stop reading this blog. All we want is your love.

NOW AS FOR THIS WEEK.

You know those moments of ecstasy? That sounds kind of weird...but think of a moment in your entire life that you've been the happiest. Go on! Just try! Before this week, I don't think I could have pin pointed one moment in my life.

Now I can.

Have you read Perks of Being A Wallflower? If not you should. But that's a whole nother blog post worthy of a topic. There's a moment in the book where the main character says the words "And in that moment I swear we were infinite" That was this entire week. It was spectacularly fantastic (both of my favorite words used in one! * shrieks* )

Oh and by the way, in case you were wondering, in times of tubing, there is only one thing on the mind...Shit. Lots of it.

Pretty sure I made a whole slew of new life long friends. They can't be anything less then that.

Ye 'ol notebooks.

29 Days.

That's it! Then I leave. For-ev-er. Holy gosh.

I've been cleaning out my room, as I've mentioned in my past post (have you been keeping up to date? Huh? Better get on that!)

The point is, I found an old notebook slash journal type thing. One of those places I used to write down ideas I thought were funny or ideas that I could possibly turn into something bigger and better. The next big film. The brand spankin' new tv series written by Jeannie Woller! (my dreams are really big...)

Anywho. I'll write down a couple things that I thought were brilliant...then I looked at them again. Read on folks.

- "I've been handling balls for as long as I can remember. Small balls, big balls, balls that have been sat on just long enough to add that lopsided look to them."

(what the freaking hell?!)  


- "Well what did you do this weekend?"
  "I threw a porcupine at a cactus, just to see who'd win."

(hahaha. I still think that one is kind of silly)


- "I love her blue eyes. Oh! And she has really clear skin, and this sort of treacherous smell about her that says, 'I worked out this morning and then showered in my own urine'"
OR (instead of "showered with my own urine"...put in the words "I like to party with dead zebras")

(whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy)


- "Huh, I was pretty sure he was a dinosaur"
"Really now?"
"Yup. Almost positive."
      And that was the last conversation I ever had with Finnagan.

(I don't understand my brain)


These are just a few gems. If you didn't laugh, that's fine, I'm not sure you were suppose to. Just be open minded! Read it in a funny voice if you must. OR imagine me staring into your eyes and saying these words.

That might cause nightmares.

Carry on with life my friends!