Where's Roger?

These are my roommates. These are the people who see me at my best and worst, but more or less at my worse.

It's interesting living with other people. With people that aren't your family, because they have every reason to judge you. For example, when I get in crazy-Jeannie mode, they could be all:

"Like. Ohmygosh. Who is this girl? Like. We were given, like, the weirdest person, like, ev like er. 

But then they aren't and you're thankful. 

It's refreshing. Almost like splashing cold water on your face when your in an airplane bathroom, and you try to splash it like those girls on the face wash commercials, because they do it with such style. But then you fail at the style and realize that nobody actually washes their face like that, but you keep trying anyways. (why you're in an airplane bathroom, I couldn't tell ya)

In the end I like them. 

I wonder what living with me would be like...I mean as an outsider. Lord knows I live with myself every day...every. single. day. You think you get sick of me?! TRY BEING ME! 

That was much more angsty than I anticipated. Woahaho. I'm like Harry Potter in the 5th book over here. 

We took our Christmas card photos this week, so look out! You may be getting one in the mail soon. 

p.s. Roger was in every single one of our pictures! (my pet plastic bird. Look hard for him!)

Is that...is that a tear?

Sunday was lazy Sunday. Well every Sunday is lazy Sunday. Scratch that. Every day is lazy -day.
But on Sunday I cried. Literal tear droplets pitter-pattered down my face. Not for any inner-emotional reason. No saddness or anything. I didn't even stubb a toe! No knife in quad or white-board cleaning solution in eye (which has actually happened before...heh that memory just came back...)

No. I cried because I watched a VH1 special on SNL.

Why did that make me cry you ask? They kept showing clips of different SNL sketches. And then they had a segment called "the women of SNL" and everything made sense in my life. I cried because all the sudden, for a split second, everything made sense in my life.

I'd always known I wanted to be on SNL as a writer or something (not that I could do that...I wish. Maybe. MOVING ON)

But watching this segment during this special made everything just click, almost like high heels on tile, hell maybe it clicked even more than that. I felt like watching that special was the world confirming to me that I really do need to be in that business when I'm older. I just know it. I don't know how though, so I hope I figure that out.

Tina Fey was talking on the special, and she almost started getting teary-eyed. Almost. Okay she almost started getting teary-eyed.
*Pan camera from Tina Fey on tv over to Jeannie curled up on the couch with tear-drops slowly rolling  down her cheek*

Luckily I was home alone, cuz that could have been quite the embarrassingment...so naturally I just tell everyone anyways on this here blog. Smooth. But that's not the point. I had an epiphany! One of them is rare to come by, I'll tell ya. You gotta share it with the world when you get one of them! Like I am...right...now...

So that's me. The emotional girl on the couch, crying because she wants to do things like SNL so badly.

MY FEELINGS.

Some people are born great.

And then other people are just born.

I lost my key to my dorm about two weeks after the start of school. I lost it at a friend's house. I asked those who lived in the house of losing items if they could scour all around the couch that stole my things.

It's been 3 months of my roommates having to leave the latch out so I could get into my room. And when I would come home from class an hour before any of my roommates, I'd have to lounge out in the hallways, taking naps on the cold floor. Or hide in the stairwell, eating the small flies that landed on the floor by my feet, just trying to stay alive.

We have a whiteboard on our fridge. There are always little notes on there like "we need more paper towels". Or "* insert picture of fish*". Or "Clean up your crap".
The two most common tid-bits on there have been"
"Whoever leaves last, leave the door open for Jeannie" AND
"Jeannie. GET AN EFFING KEY"

So I finally took the advice of the little white, erasable board and went out and got myself an effing key. 10 dollars worth of an effing key.

After 3 wholes months, today was the day I decided to turn my life around. I skipped all my classes today, so I thought I needed to be somewhat productive and getting a key was the way to do it.

I took the long walk to the Lundstrum to buy a new key. (the student center that contains machines for washing, treadmills for running, and mailboxes for getting mail...of which I don't get).

I paid my fee like I was paying a whore and returned home in merriment to show my roommate Dani how well the key worked. She was pleased and applauded in pride. We hugged and danced and drank some champagne. (or did we...?)

The day was good. I erased the white board and all was well. All was right. That is until...

I saw Kylie at the training room. I was getting into the reverse hot tub to ice my aching limbs, when I begin a conversation with the Kylie character. We chatted idly about this and that. Who was taking who to the governor's ball at the end of the year, ya know, small gossip. When all of the sudden she says to me.
"Oh by the way Jeannie. Apparently we found your key card."
"You mean the one I lost at the very beginning of the year?"
"Ya that one."
"You mean the one I asked you guys to look for in your home?"
"Ya! That...that's the one!"
"You mean the same key card I had waiting 3 months to replace until THIS VERY MORNING. The same morning that would soon lead to the afternoon in which you tell me the fact that you found my key card?!"
"Ya....ya...I guess so."

Timing. Not my strong suit. Apparently my card had been sitting on their counter for something like two weeks and nobody felt the need to tell me these things had been found.

Like I said.
Some people are just born.

Video time.

Because it's necessary.

If you ever feel the need to cry, just watch this.

Slash comma and or you just feel the need to listen to an amazing story, yet again, watch this. No regrets will come upon your soul. The only regrets to take place will come if, and only if, you choose to pass up watching this.

Regrets! *echos* regrets regrets regrets. 

Aint no stopping me. Word.

I returned home today. To the land of the Loganites. With cows mooing at every turn. And silhouettes of cowboys driving the car in front of you. It's fantastic. It's weird. It's smelly. But boy is it home. 

I was home alone for a good while. A long time. All by myself. Nobody here. Nobody that could come into the room. Nobody that could record me singing in the shower (which has surprisingly happened on more than one occasion...) Nobody!

So I might have walked around my dorm in the nude. Because I could. Because, like I mentioned before, nobody could stop me.

It was liberating. It was refreshing. It was so damn cold.

So I put clothes on. And laid on my bed and watched Grey's Anatomy. And nobody could stop me.

Part two. The Bagel.

DISCLAIMER: If you are reading part two before part one, then obviously you are all wrong. So go back one more story and read part one before this, or you will be nothing but lost. Lost I say!


*Like the grandfather from Princess Bride*
Now where were we? Ah yes.

*now in normal Jeannie voice...which some of you might not know what that sounds like...okay just in normal way you would read Jeannie post voice*

So I had just been made a fool of by my dentist. Right. Still stings, but I mean, whatever.

Go about 5 months down the line. The fresh smells of June are entering through the window you left open the night before because it's summer and you can do that (but then your mom gets mad at you and is all like "why you be waisting our air-conditioning?" And you're all "quiet fool")

Annie had just returned home from college, and the father of the home suggested we take Samwise Gamgee up to dog lake. It was an odd day and therefore, no leashes were needed. The stars were in line. The sun was up, thus preventing anyone from actually seeing the stars in line, but they were in the line, I swear!

I was sitting shotgun, mainly because Annie is awful at calling it, but I was there and I was enjoying it. The day was looking like a good one. And to add onto the whole winning shotgun goodness, my pop decided to stop by Einstein's Bagels on the way. Grab us some bagels so we could carbo-load before we hiked up the dreaded mountain to *dramatic pause* DOG LAKE. (oh wait, you already knew where we were going...)

I picked up a plain bagel, I had already eaten the cinnamon and sugar one guys, don't worry.
I bit into the bagel and felt a crunch. Kind of like when you get sand in your mouth and you bite down and all you hear is

Crrrrrrruunch. Crrrrrrrrrruu.

I didn't know what it was. It was bigger than any sand grain, also why would there be a sand grain in my bagel? Why I ask?! No sense was being made at all. So I pulled out the piece of bagel that was in my mouth with every intention of getting to the bottom of this madness. I looked down at the piece and saw something white sticking out of it.

"What is that?" Internal Jeannie asked.
"It looks like...like...a tooth." Internal Jeannie answered.

Holy crap. A tooth was baked into my bagel. How did that even happen? I mean honestly! It's a tooth. A tooth, people! Was there some person working at the bagel shop that just loses teeth constantly, like they don't even notice anymore when they lose one more tooth.

"Hey toothless Sally! How ya doing today? What's this? Yesterday you had 5 teeth, and now you only have 4! Oh toothless Sally. You little rascal you."

And toothless Sally's only reply would be to cock her head to the side, scrunch up her shoulders, and give her 4 toothed, creepy grin, that for some reason unbeknown to all else, melts the hearts of those working at Einstein's Bagel.

So I grabbed the tooth in between my pointer finger and my thumb, looked around to make sure my dad and Annie hadn't seen what just happened, then I slowly rolled down the window till only a crack was open, tossed the tooth out the window, said to myself "It's fine. Pretend it wasn't there. You saw nothing. Nothing! You hear me!?"

And just. Kept. Eating.

Ya. So. Finding part of tooth in my bagel didn't even stop me from eating it. I don't understand why. I mean, any rational person would probably stop eating anything, whatever it is, even if it was *insert really fancy name of food here*!

Not me. Like I said. It doesn't phase me.

For hell's sake Jeannie. It was a tooth!

Oh hush disembodied voice. 

Okay so this story doesn't have that creepy of an ending after all. The reason I gave you such a detailed background story yesterday was because, upon arriving at the parking lot of Dog Lake, I stroked my tongue across my teeth. Low and behold, one of my caps had fallen out! 

Turns out that tooth in bagel was actually Jeannie tooth in bagel! Not sure if that still makes this story okay or anything, but it makes it a little less gross when put in retrospect. Not only was it not actual, real tooth bone, but it was Jeannie's not actual, real tooth bone! 

The little wins are the ones that count the most. 

Part 1. The teeth.

I don't know what exactly is wrong with me. (don't answer that all of everyone out there)

Whenever there is something in my food, like a hair, or a finger or something, I just end up shrugging it off. It doesn't get to me for some reason. I just say to myself, "It's fine. Pretend it wasn't there. You saw nothing. Nothing! You hear me!?"......And I just continue eating.

It's either a gift, or a curse. I haven't decided yet.

Backround:

About two years ago I went to a soccer tournament in Florida. It was magical, as one would assume a tournament in Florida would be- despite the fact it was cold and sucked a lot.

We had one more game in the tournament to go. It was one of those lame tournaments. Ya know the ones where no matter how many games you may win, you don't get a medal or a gold star or even a damn cookie! All you get is pride. Pshh. What is it good for? Absolutely Nothing. (UH).

Anyways. So it was our last game. We had done well thus far, and once the game was over, I got to go to Harry Potter world! The world of all worlds! The world that, if I got to choose, would be the only world that mattered on this earth, assuming I'd be a witch of course. there's still a chance.

It was almost half time. The time where half the game has occurred. Where the whistle is blown and we get to drink water. Water!

But we weren't there yet. Instead, a girl decided to dribble really fast at me. Almost as fast as the snitch, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. (now I'm stuck on H to the P...well I guess I always am).

She kicked the ball kind of far. Out of her reach. Her grasp? She failed to hold onto the ball. Her foot grasp? Is that a thing?

Boy I'm getting sidetracked! OKAY. So I'll try to speed this up, considering it's only the backround.

So she kicked the ball real far, and I came out with a one-v-one style dive. We met the ball at the same time. And by met the ball at the same time, I mean I met the ball and she met the underside of my jaw.

*CRUNCH SCRAPE WHISTLE BLOOD*

My top teeth? Welp. They were all chipped. Like wood chips. Or Chip Skylark from Fairly Odd Parents. Hay maybe even........I got nothing.

I got up and could feel shards of my teeth lining my lips. I turned around to my teammate Megan and said,

"I dust chit all miae teet"

Her response was so comforting that it reminded me of my childhood bed. The one you can wrap yourself up in, and feel safe and warm. Not a care in the world!

"Okay you did *pause* but it's not that bad"

I could feel my eyes widen to an unnatural size. Kind of like when you blow up a balloon too much and you know it's going to pop. Ya. My eyes were the size of the balloon right before the popping happens.

KABOOM.

Oh shiz man. There they go! Look what you did!

The rest of my magical day was very hard to enjoy. I couldn't swallow without sounding like a middle school girl with braces, who was just learning how to keep the spit inside her mouth. It all hurt. Butterbeer was still the best thing of all, but I couldn't drink it and look cool at the same time, which is how your suppose to look while drinking Butterbeer. It was a disaster! (or one of the best times of my life, but for the sake of the pity you are suppose to feel while reading this story, we'll stick with disaster)

I got home on New Years day. The dentist people waited up for me, because they thought it was a life altering, teeth hanging from my gums, forever ugly, teeth problem.

They took one look at me a laughed. There was pretty much nothing wrong. They just put some caps on my teeth, shook their heads in embarrassment (for me), and sent me on my merry way. Apparently I've gone down in my dentist's history books. I went in for my 6 month check up two six months ago and all I got was.

"Hi, I'm Jeannie Woller and I'm here for an appointment."
"Alright Jeannie Wo...Wait. Are you the girl that we stayed up on New Years waiting for?"
"Yup that's m..."
"We all thought it was gonna be something crazy, but then you just had like, two chipped teeth" *laughter*
"Ya. That was m..."
*too much laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. What's that on the floor?! OHMYGOSH IT'S URINE*

Ya. This is gonna be a two-parter.
Till tomorrow kids!

Thankfulness. It's a real thing.

It's that day again. What day you ask? The day where you stuff yourself silly, throw parts of rolls at each other, witness a father/son soda fight, and tell a Helen Keller joke that makes your grandma laugh so hard that she cries.

Doesn't that happen everywhere?

Okay people. Okay. You should know most about me by now. I'm not really hiding anything. I'm not really ashamed of who I am, how I act, or what I do (most the time) (which should be obvious considering I tell you all my stories, no matter what it is. well I tell everyone all my stories...I'm practically on repeat, a loop if you will)

So I'm going to take a second and calm down. I'm going to calm right down and tell you a few things I'm grateful for. I know, how cliche, right? Well maybe, but not really, because that's the point of today. I can't express all of my thanks in one sitting. Nobody can, and if you can you should probably fix that.

I'm thankful for all the families I have. The countless families I have. My blood relatives and then also the friends that are family, the friends that are becoming family, and the friends that will always be there, even if they aren't right now.

I'm thankful for living rooms, because when the day is done, it's there where everyone sits down, gets off their feet, and where everyone shares their stories.

I'm thankful for boxes. Empty boxes. Because when all other forms of entertainment fail, boxes really know what to do.

I'm thankful for not having a car at college, because the people who give me rides are the people who I can talk to. They are the people that want to listen.

I'm thankful for socks and wooden floors.

I'm thankful for being able to figure things out for myself.

I'm thankful for people accepting that I need to figure things out for myself.

I'm thankful that I now really know what the difference between like and love is. You see. I like my sketchers, but I love my prada backpack.

Okay scratch that. I guess I'm just thankful for the movie 10 Thing I hate about You. Or at least thankful for the beauty Heath Ledger once put on this earth.

I'm thankful for laughter. But the deep laughter, where you can't breathe and you pee your pants.

I'm also thankful for fake/pity laughter, because without it I feel like people would just be staring blankly at me whenever I talk.

I'm thankful for the ability to listen to people. To really listen. To listen and remember.

I'm thankful for a person's history. For the stuff that makes them who they are.

I'm thankful for you all reading my stuff, even when I try to be all deep like.

I think I'm just thankful. For all things. For all thing always.

I'm full. Eh...Oh well.

Do you want some life advice? Some advice that will help you throughout the entire time that you are living? Okay. Grab onto something people cuz shit's about to get real.

Making out with a stranger is completely fine if and only if you are getting a free mall-style pretzel, with the spicy cheese of course.

ha! Ya sure. Ya right Jeannie, making out with a stranger let alone anyone? You're funny.

I know.

No! My real advice was going to be don't take a nap after you eat a lot of tortilla chips. They stick with you man, and it's the worst.

I just eat. That's all I do. I don't stop. Well I stopped one time, but then I passed out and bad things happened. I eat more down here in the Sandy area (place of living) then I do in the Logan area (place of college times) (I'm glad I could clear that up for you guys)

It's okay. I'm technically on holiday. Or on vacation. So I'm taking advantage of seeing food and not having to ask people if I can eat it or if they are willing to share.

I will eat it all! Muahahahahaha. Hahahaha. haha. hah. *gasp gasp* hahahaha. *bends over* ha. *huff* ha *huff* *falls over dead*

WOAH. Sorry. I didn't mean to die. I was just laughing at how brilliant I am!

Jeannie you're not.

Disembodied voice! Why you come around as often as you do?

I'm still eating chips. Right now. As we speak. (are we speaking?) Ya I don't feel great.
I need to have more purpose in these posts. BUT IT'S VACATION.
So suck it up, just for a few more days.


Okay. In order to get more followers slash readers (because apparently I'm the most desperate person in the world of worlds), I promised some shout outs.

Kristen Shimkus. You are a person. A person that is in existence. You have an ugly blanket named Germ, which is rightfully named considering it's disgusting. Congrats on being alive. Now you have to read my blog for ever and always. WIN.

Goodnight moon, goodnight bear. Goodnight dog that farts on blanket.
Be thankful for all things, because tomorrow is just that kind of day.

More eating! Hurray!

Never blog at late times. Never.

It's mother effing 3 A.M.

I'm home. Like home home. Not the home that I say I'm going to every night when I'm at the place of college.

I'm at the home where I've had the same Beatles poster hanging on my door since 4th grade. The same four giant pieces of paper, taped together. (I should go into detail about that late, but as I once said before, it's mother effing 3 A.M.)

I miss my school home. I really do. It's weird! It's nice to be home home though. I went with some old school neighborhood friends, then surprised my friend at the airport! I dunno. It was fun.

Hokay. Remember my post from yesterday? The one that was maybe a little sad, but also maybe a little confusing? Like you weren't sure what was happening but you kept reading because you were SOO very intrigued? Good! Well....

I'm in the Cache Valley Symphony. I know. I'm living large.
Anywho.

My conductor lost his wife about 4 weeks ago, on the night of one of our rehearsals  As a result, every rehearsal that we had he would start crying during the slow songs, because every one of them brought back memories he had with her. He would stop us and tell us stories. They were all so beautiful and poetic. My heart broke every time.

Did I ever mention I took a personality test and I am Expressive/Expressive.
Who knows what that means?
Not I!
Or you?
Or you?!
Wow. Nobody knows.

It's mother effing 3 A.M.
Well 3:08 now.

This has been the most pointless post.

The stuff that moves you.

The two share a kiss. Not overdoing it, they are in a church after all, but they aren't holding back. They are in love, and now they can be in love forever. Nothing is stopping them. Nothing would've stopped them anyways, but it's tradition. Now, well now all they have is each other. That's all they want, and that's all they need.

***

The man stroked his snowy hair, unintentionally slicking it back with the sweat that had been accumulating. He furrowed his brow, forcing his eyes to shut as he took a deep breath that shook his entire body. His right hand was so focused on his left, absolutely refusing to let it go. Finally something compelled him, and he put his trembling hand back on the conducing wand he had released when the memories came back to him.

The entire room was silent. Even the sick girl, who hadn't stopped coughing since she set foot in the orchestral room, refused to make a sound. They were waiting. They weren't sure what exactly for, but they knew they had to wait, for however long, the just needed to wait.

He picked up the wand again, waved it, and the room filled with noise. The hitting of bows on strings. The tuning of A flats to A naturals. The resonance of a broken man replaced by the cacophony of an eager symphony.

Like a wizard preforming a spell, the man waved his wand and instead of noise, or silence, there was beauty. The sounds of cellos and basses and violins filled the once dismal room. Everyone was stuck in the moment. The only thing keeping movement in existence was the music. Music is the stuff that moves you.

Suddenly the snow-haired man yielded to a force greater than the music. The wand fell to the floor,  and silence filled the room again. Something within him wasn't there anymore and the room kept waiting.

Tears began to trickle down the man's face, getting caught in the lines that represented the years they were together. The creases from laughing too hard at nothing and the wrinkles from a shared history that brought the cruelest mixture of joy and pain. A mixture that he would not have changed for the world.

The room sat still. The man who thought he had better places to be sat still. The woman who always had something important to say sat still. The room sat still.

Stillness enveloped everything. Breath was on hold. Blinking was on hold. Living, for a moment, was on hold.

His heart was breaking. Over and over again. Every thought he had, his heart was breaking. Every blink, was another image of her. Every breath was another breathe that was mocking her. Every laugh was another laugh without her.

The man grabbed his left hand once more and the music started up again. This time, no wand was forcing the room to play. This time, the man smiled while he remembered, because the music was the stuff that moved them.

Music times. It's fine I swear!

I'm obsessed with a new song. I'm not trying to bail out of writing a blog post, but sometimes some things are more importan than what I have to say.

"Jeannie nothing is more important than what you have to say"

I know Mr. Perfect-Guy-That-Loves-Jeannie-And-Exists-Other-Than-When-He-Speaks-On-My-Blog
(sense is being made, I promise)

*stares deep into your soul trying to compel you*
Listen to this music. NOW.

Tomorrow I have a real blog thing. Like a real real blog post. With a story. Not my own story. But a story. So sit tight!

It's too late for this.

This weekend has been one for the books. The history books. The science books. The children's books...okay maybe not the children's books. But it's been a memorable one for sure.

I can't really go into details, because that would be sharing secrets that aren't necessarily mine to share.

All I know is college is college. And college has so much more in store for everyone involved in it. I can't wait to see.

I saw Twilight the first night. It was not great. Not great at all. Entertaining is some ways, but not great.
Lots of decapitated vampires. So that was fun.

Then I saw Pitch Perfect tonight. BRILLIANCE.

I will probably see it again tomorrow. Then the next day. Then the next. Until I can quote every single line from it that you will never want to be in my presence ever.

EVER. You hear me?!

Internal Battle *punch* *kick*

You know things have gotten to a pretty strange spot if the most trying decision in my life right now is whether I should see the new Twilight tonight, or Pitch Perfect.

That's my most heated internal debate as of this present time. I'm wracking my brain.

Other than that. Nothing.

I was looking at my phone while I was trying to walk into the computer lab. I guess I must have overestimated where the door was at and so therefore I ran straight into the glass wall.

I felt like one of those birds they use in Windex advertisements.

*trying to focus* look a bird!

I'm getting far too distracted.

I have to write an annotated bibliography for my English 1010 class. On four different sources. And it's due tomorrow at an early time (7:30 am in the morning...tis worst). That's not that bad ya know? I already have more than 3 done, well like 3 and a half. But it's the worst thing that I've written since the time I described history as "very historical".

I'm getting distracted with a few things. Or with everything. Take your pick.
Not really any sort of internet things.

I'm not going on facebook, tumblr, yahoo, porn sites, I'm just not doing that!

Instead. I saw a fly and watched it around the room. It landed on a window for a little bit. And for some reason that didn't stop me from looking at it.

Also what's really fun to do is put your headphones on and then not actually play any music. It's quite fun. People talk and they don't think you can hear. Not that their telling secrets, it's just pretty interesting.

Earlier today I painted one hand. Just one. My left hand. And for the past half hour I have just peeled it all off. Not doing my homework. Nope. Just peeled it off. Like a band-aid, or a banana peel or something along those lines.

Man I should get back to work. I mean, I still have some finger nail polish left on my hand.

That Putty saved my life!

My friend is sitting here. Right next to me. Rubbing in the fact that she has silly putty and I don't. K look. There are a few things in this world I can't stand. Most of them involve people who swallow drinks really loudly (Annie. Annie. Annie. Annie), don't turn on their blinker while switching lanes. But I am bugged the most by people sitting next to me rubbing in the fact that I don't have silly putty!

I get it okay?! You're sitting over there, having fun, rolling your putty into a ball, and laughing all the while. Maybe even flattening it out and writing your name it in. Okay. You want me to say it? I'll say it.

I'M JEALOUS.

When I was 5 years old I had a fever that was unlike any fever seen before. Or it was a lot like most other fevers seen before, only this was a bit more feverish (in other words, it was a high fever)

My ma rushed me to the emergency room in our old-school Honda that didn't even have an airbag...which was the best because then I could sit in the front even though I was 5 years old...we sat in the waiting room for hours on end. I ate a 3-musketeer candy-bar. I then realized how much I hated 3-musketeer candy bars.

Seriously though. Out of all the candy bars in the vending machine I could have chosen, I chose the one that tastes like brimstone and Hobbit feet. I don't know if you've ever noticed, but during Halloween those damn candy bars are the only ones left in the bucket. Parents have to love them because that's all they have left to eat after all the little Halloween slash candy loving mongrels come and clean them out of all the other decent style candies.

TANGENT. Okay back to the story.

We finally got a room. Like my own room. Not one of those hallway beds where everyone can see what's going on in your world. If you cry, they know. If you laugh, the know! If you fart, THEY KNOW. No privacy people. None.

But I didn't have that! Nope. I was safe and secure. To fart on my own time if I so chose. I slept a lot. And my ma worried a lot. Eventually the doctor came in and said there was a possibilty that I had something called Spinal Meningitis.

For all those that don't know, that's practically when your spine decides to just up and leave the place it's suppose to be and push right up into your brain. Then all that can come of it is death. Or unhappiness. But in all honesty, to a five-year-old, all I heard was

"Jeannie. We think you have something called Merblahblahmermer."
"Coooooool"

As a result  I had to get a lumbar puncture. That's when a needle the size of a baby tree trunk gets shoved into your spine. Oh! Did I mention it's as hollow as Voldemort's heart? (was that a good analogy? Geez I hope so)

My mama told me I had to be a brave girl. Why? Well I didn't know. All I know is that my mom said if I was brave girl, then she would get me any sort of present. Anything in the land. Whatever I wanted was mine!

So what did I ask for?

Silly Putty.

The next day. After this needle of doom entered my body, I was as happy as that weird kid. (ya...that's the end of that metaphor)

Silly Putty is what I want most in this world. Always has be. Always will.

(Just a heads up for any future events where you may need to get me a present)

You're A Moving Target, Kid

And I always have been apparently.

I've never been diagnosed as any sort of ADD or ADHD, but there's always been the signs. I can't stop moving, ya know, ever. Also testing and those things are hard. There are other things so if you've met me, you may catch on.
I have trouble focusing for long amounts of ti....Man am I hungry. I went to the store earlier today to get some food and * dramatic pause* Okay so that was a bit forced, but that's what I mean.

I wanted to get tested again before I came up to be a big 'ol college kid, because I was nervous it was going to hurt me grade wise and all other types of wise, but I didn't ever do it. So who knows! Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just a dinosaur-acting, leaf jumping, sane person. Who knew?

When I was in 3rd grade I went to this therapist to get tested for this exact, and other, types of attention disorders. Her name was Dorthy and all I could think about the entire time was Wizard of Oz, what a great start to the theraputing ammiright?

I don't remember much of it. I just remember we played some awesome games, but I think she let me win most of them. I did this computer thing. We talked all deep like. My mom took me to Chili's. And that was that. All is done. EVERYTHING DONE. Don't you get it?! Just leave! It's over!

I'm sorry fans. I'm little on edge right now. Sleep deprivation. It's a thing. It's a real life thing. Real live thing?

kjaincioea;jdf9910p394823afja;l (Jeannie Falling asleep on her laptop)
*wakes up with a snort*
I'M SORRY.

After my adventures with the therapist, I just went on living my 3rd grade life. I'm actually pretty positive I had no idea why I had to see her. I was just excited I got to miss school for an entire day and eat a whole wrack of ribs for lunch (I was a really chubby small kid...)

Turns out that I was diagnosed with...well. The doctor didn't actually know. The doctor told my mother that she couldn't figure me out. She told my mother that I was a moving target.

She couldn't figure out my learning style or even what was going on in my mind. Hell. I don't even know what's going on in this here mind *points to head then gets finger stuck in hair and doesn't know what to do*

I was out of her sights. ME. Jeannie Marie Woller stumped a professional, Ph.D holding, red-sparkling-shoes clicking, "how-does-that-make-you-feel" talking therapist.

However, what she did figure out was that I have, or at least I did then, an over-active imagination...which is what probably led to all my night time hard-ships in past Jeannie's near future, and present Jeannie's distant past.

Also, I was told that, and if you look real hard maybe you'll be able to see this in me. (Look REALLY hard. Like. Past my epidermis and bones, and organs, and practically out the other side of my skin and maybe, just maybe you'll see it..........or just look at me once and you will. Who knows), was that I really learn the best while I'm moving.
Always moving. Like a moving target or something. So if you see me pacing, or bouncing my legs up and down, or twisting my chair, or even flying in the sky like some sort of flying-sky woman, just remember. I'M LEARNING. Always learning.

You're a moving target, kid.
And there's nothing to be ashamed of.

*Hack hack*

Oh don't mind me, I'm just coughing up a lung over here.

I'm sick. (boohoo Jeannie!) Oh hush you.

Okay I get it! I'm not crazy sick. I'm not debilitated in any way, but I am college sick, which is the worst. I just slug around my apartment all day saying in my mind "ohwoe-isme" I'm like a real-live version of Eeyore.

Well maybe I'm not THAT pathetic, but my point has been made.

I may or may not have skipped two classes to come home and take a nap, then I just ended up watching Grey's Anatomy.

WHAT HAS MY LIFE COME TO.

So soccer is over. Forever. and EVER. Or at least until January. Which is weird and I don't know what to do with my life. For example. Today, as I've said already, I just lounged around the house. Laying every which way on furniture. I made my bed. Cleaned my room. Turned our Happy Halloween decorations into Happy Thanksgiving decorations. Had a conversation with one or two different Stevvies. Maybe even acted like a dinosaur. I'm just saying! It's been an interesting day.

Okay. I know. I've gone back to day by day blogging. Remember Jeannie, this is not a jornal.

How bout if you deal with this post for the night, I'll post the story tomorrow of why my blog is titled the way it is. Deal? Deal.

BUT. One awesome thing came out of today. My friends made me soup. I didn't ask them to do that, I didn't ask them to do anything. They did it of their own accord! How do I meet these type of people?

Oh right...online...I forgot.

Compliments. Ya this was the best one ever.

I just want to share with you all the BEST complement I have possibly ever received ever in my whole entire existence here on this here planet named earth.

But just some background information first.

I play the bass. The double bass. The big one that's in the back row of the orchestra and is bigger than the biggest linebacker on any football field. (OKAY! You caught me, it's about as big as the smallest linebacker on any football field, but I was just trying to convey a message...sue me!)

I've been playing it since 6th grade, so it's become a little bit of a hobby/passion/time-killer. I really do enjoy it though. I've named my bass even. His name is Harrison and he's been around for a good amount of time now. Him and I are good friends. We've been through Heaven and Hell together.

So when I play the bass, I kind of dance with it. I don't know why, I've just always done it. It gets me in the zone of playing Harrison. We could dance all night if I knew enough music to play that long. I sort of sway with him. Back and forth. Round and round. Till the song ends and I snap back into reality and realize everyone is watching me. I flush, turn the page so the next song is in front of me, and wait for the conductor to raise that wand so I can be enchanted by the music once more.

Anyways. Hope that painted a nice picture for you. Kinda gives you the gist of how these things work for me, concerts and all.

NOW FOR THE BEST COMPLIMENT EVER.

We had just finished one of our orchestra concerts and I was out in the foyer saying hello and thanks to all those that came, friends and strangers alike, while shoving free pieces of cookies and brownies into my mouth at every talking pause. Then, out of the corner of my eye I see this lady come up behind me. I turned around to see one of my childhood friend's mother standing behind me. We hugged each other, and as I began to pull away from the tight embrace, she stopped me, leaned in close to my ear and whispered..

"I can just tell from the way you play your bass, you are going to be the most passionate lover"

I was done. Everyone standing in line to give me a compliment can just go home. Get going would ya! I don't want it anymore, I've just been given the compliment to put all others to shame.

I think I stood there open mouthed for a bit, but then I said something like, "I freaking better be!"

Then we bantered about it for a bit. Like,
"oh your husband is just going to love you."
"He's gotta have some moves of his own though"
"Don't worry, if you picked him, you know he will"

Then I shoved some more cookies in my mouth because I didn't have any other words and full-of-cookies-mouth seemed like a pretty good reason to stop talking.

I will never forget it, and when the time comes, I better freaking be a passionate lover! I don't think I'll fill you readers in on it when that comes along though...you sick perverts you.

It's a rambly one. Be prepared.

It's still the same day people. I have yet to go to bed, even though it's teetering on the 2:00 AM mark. Living it up at college! Wahoo! Going hard! For all you know I'm drunk right now from this crazy rager I went to!


Ya okay...so maybe I'm not drunk right now. Maybe I just spent all night watching movies with my friends. MAYBE OKAY. I'm not putting anything for sure down in writing. You'd just be able to hold it over my head.

My eyes are burning. And we lost to BYU. Which sucked, but I've honestly never thought we've played so well. It was an honor being on this team with these seniors. And I'm serious about that.

One thing that sucks about the whole college soccer deal is that every year, people have to leave. It's like...the absolute worst...like....omygosh.

I'm struggling to think of words. I'll just tell you what I see in my room.

A giant picture of Annie (literally...at least 10 times the normal size of a normal picture)
A nurf gun (I need to put that to good use)
My Olivander's wand (well technically I can't see it because it's behind me, but I know it's there)
A Beatles and Aragorn, and John Lennon poster (All separate posters, yet all watch me as I drift in the sleeping land)

Speaking of sleeping land! I think ima let those posters take a look right now. Goodnight one and all!

This is just a freewrite, don't take it too seriously ya hear!

I was looking up writing prompts online, because I'm that cool, and I came across one that was entitled "Hometown". It wants me to write about my hometown, memories I made there, the people, the places, the landscape, and all that Blazers...woah, sorry I meant all that Jazz.  (that was one of the worst jokes in all of history. Forgive me)

So seeing as I am in Provo right now for our big ass game today (6:00 PM if you're in the area, all the koolest kats in town will be there, don't kid yourself! Just get on down there!), I figured this prompt was pretty darn appropriate, considering I was born just down the road from where I'm sitting this VERY MOMENT.

Sit back, relax, maybe pop some popcorn, pour yourself a glass of wine

Jeannie, we're in PROVO.
Oh right right. Pour yourself a glass of milk and read on.



I was so convinced the mountains that lined my horizon were cardboard. My goal was to one day tip them over. Needless to say I never achieved it, but I got pretty close on some days. My parents let me roam. Anywhere and anytime. I guess they didn't really let me, I just did it. I got in trouble sometimes for it, but that didn't really stop me. My favorite thing to do was go out in the summer rain with no shoes on. I remember pretending I was homeless and just playing in the puddles, not because I wanted to be, or even because that's what everyone was doing. I think I just did it because I could. Because my mind let me.

This place was the one place where everything seemed normal. It was the one time that there wasn't any teenage angst in my house, or any raised voices. The worst thing that could happen was we'd get grounded or lose our privileges to play with friends, which if that were the case we'd just slide down our stairs on sleeping bags. We didn't need friends, we just needed the ability to make our own fun.

We were all under the same God, if any God, and for a good couple of years nothing could change that. For a moment, we were the stereotype. The same type of Provo family that lived in that house, and that house, oh and that house right there. We were happy. We were reasonable. We were boring.

I loved it here. I will always love the memories I have here. I learned how to ride a bike in the same cul-de-sac where Annie was hit by a car...well I guess she actually more ran into a parked car than it running into her. I held my first snake on the river trail that was six steps away from my childhood house with the green shudders.

In Provo, we were the Woller's. But we'd get confused with the Johnson's, or the Hales, or the Smiths.

"What religion are you?"
"Mormon."
"Ya me too. What about you?"
"Mormon."
"Ya me too."
Because if you weren't, you defied the norm, and everyone knows if you ever challenge the norm there was something wrong with you. They didn't know why, they didn't need to know why, there just was.

Provo will always be a part of me. And I want it to be. I'm glad it is. I'm proud of Provo Jeannie. She learned a lot, grew up, and most importantly, she didn't stay Provo Jeannie.


In Sandy, we are the Woller's. But we don't get mistaken for the family down the road with four kids, two of which have served missions and are practically almost married. The family I have now is the no-bull-shit, loud, disruptive, swearing family that is figuring stuff out for ourselves. It may take us a bit longer than the families who have most things planned out for them, but we'll get there, and I'll be just as proud of every single one of us when we do, no matter if it takes ten, fifteen, hell maybe even thirty years. We aren't the norm, look at us however you'd like to, but we aren't the norm.



I went hiking the other day. Every few steps I had to kick the side of the mountain, just to make sure.

I'M SORRY OKAY?

I really am! I'm not really counting not being able to post yesterday, because it was just that, I wasn't able to.

Long story short, my hotel doesn't have Wi-Fi in the rooms. I know right? We're in the 21st century, I mean COMEON.

So in return to all my eager readers, I will be posting not Thrice, nor once! If you look smack dab in between those two numbers, that's where you'll find the amount of posts I will post today. (if you still can't find it, the answer is twice)

Post 1:

Lexie Morgan and I made up a song. It's scary and demented, but oh so funny.
You know that "this girl is on fire" song by Alicia Keys? Well we decided to make that song be a bit more literal than was probably intended. I'm sure silly 'ol Alicia did not plan on singing about a real live burning girl.

So get the tune from the point where she sings "This girl is on fire!"
Now keep that tune and follow with me.
From the top.
"This girl is on fire"
"She is now screaming"
"It smells like burning hair"
"She looks like a candle"
"Her skin is now melting"
"Somebody get a hoes"
"This hoes is not working"
"That girl's still on fire"
"Everybody run away"
"She's definitely dead"


I about peed my pants when we were making this up. Pee everywhere. ALL OVER. Imagine it? Doesn't smell very good, huh?. It probably smells about as good as burning hair smells.

But! I didn't really pee, so no worries. I did however snort a lot.

I hope this is funny to you all, if it's not I apologize.
Blogging is good. It's hard sometimes. Sometimes there's not much to say. Sometimes there's too much to say.
It's a battle and struggle every day yo. Balance. Balance is key.

K well I'll see you in moments when I blog again. BREAK.

Leaves? Leafs? Whatever it was I jumped in it!

Picture complements of Kami Montgomery...which she then put on instagram...after she creepily took this photo of me... while I was raking up a pile of leaves at the park...by myself....so I could jump in them...by myself.

Nobody would go with me. EVER. So I said screw all people (but don't because you might get diseases), and I just went to the park by myself.

You may make fun, that's fine. Go on I dare you to do it! I had a blast. And I wrote a little story while in my leaf pile when I was all done. It kind of looked like a birds nest or something. I'm not sure.

But I'm going to go watch American Horror Story and scare myself so bad that I can't sleep, (not that I can anyways). But that may mean another blog post all soon!

p.s. Did you notice I posted last night at 11:59? Cuttin it close wasn't I? I like to live on the edge. Some call me a rebel. But me? I call myself awesome.

Oh you have friends?

Ya all I have is study hall.

What's study hall? Oh come on now, don't be stupid. Obviously it's a place where people can go and really learn what a hall is. I mean, do you know what a hall is? Ya! I didn't think so!

That was probably the dumbest opening to a blogpost I've had since that one time I started with...nope, this takes the gold medal as most annoying opening.

I'll just move right along.

Also quick sidenote. Obama just won! Cool cool. There's that. That's all done and what not. Wahoo! That's good right? Right? I'm not too sure, I would've voted for Obama, but I'm the worst and couldn't turn in my registration on time because I don't have a car. That's what it came down to! A car! Oh bloody hell.

NOW I'll move right along.

Wanna know what the worst thing in the universe is? ...Okay well maybe not in the entire universe. The worst thing in the entire universe is either waking up starving hungry, or waking up having to pee so bad. Tell me I'm wrong. I dare you.

NO! It's none of that. The worst thing on this earth is getting stuck in a freaking soccer net, especially when you're more frustrated than words can even describe.

Let me set up the scenario for you.

We play this game. Small sided. About 5 players to a team, four teams to the game. You think it's gonna be all fun. You think, "hey, maybe my team will play really well and all these fond memories of soccer practices will be made and I'll have the best stories to tell my future dogs...I mean children". But then reality sets in and all that takes over is frustration and sadness. The type of frustration that makes you want to punch all your roommates in the face, but then you realize they are people and can bleed and retaliate, so you don't do that.

So today my team of five was doing oh so well. We were the top seed going into the small-sided tournament. The stars were aligned and our fate was sealed. Brilliance! That's all we knew. That's all we needed to know.

That is, until your team starts to make little mistakes and Lexie scores on you once or twice and oh wait, what's that? YOU GET CAUGHT IN THE NET FOR A MILLION YEARS.

Ya. I was more frustrated than a T-Rex who wanted to pick something up off the floor. It was a corner kick, and there were 30 seconds left in the game. My team, the favored of the tournament, was down by one goal. We had time! We could do it! We could come back and have it all! That is until that damn net took a hold of my arm.

I was reaching down to pass the other team the ball, ya know so I could get the game going and we could seek our revenge! 30 seconds left and what do I do while trying to get the ball that would lead us to victory? I get caught. For the love of...

First it was my hand. I couldn't remove it from the entanglement the net had created. Once I finally pried my hand free, I went to just kick the ball. What happened then? Oh you just HAD to ask didn't you? Well to answer your question, I kicked the net and got stuck AGAIN.

Trevor my coach was all, "wow. I'm so glad I walked by at this exact moment"
And everyone else was snickering. Covering their mouth with their hands as they tried to hide the drool that happens when you laugh silently (that's not just me right?)

But by the time I freed myself from the soccer version of Devil's Snare and played the other team the ball, time was up. It was gone. There was no use holding onto the dream of winning, or even still believing I could be standing up on that podium receiving my small-sided tournament crown. There was no point. NONE.
I just had to do the opposite of what Hermione told us to do in the very first book. Because when you deal with Devil's Snare, you must stay calm. Did I do that?

Not even a little bit.

The horror! In the end, all I could say was something like, "Trevor, we damn well need to get some new goals!"
Well it was more flustered than that. I was trying to say those words but something like this came out,

*really mad voice of somebody who was just made a fool of while extremely red in the face* "Trevor, goals we need more, next time, better ones!!"

Jenn got a kick out of it. So did Jade. So did Lex. So did Trevor. SCREW YOU GUYS.

Now I'm all flustered again. I'm going to go eat a sandwich and sleep. But don't you worry, I will be back tomorrow!

*still angrily thinking to herself* Screw. You. Guys.
(but not really, because without you I'd be so very lonely)

Of all the places?!

So you remember in my last little blog post how I was all, "My team won things!" (okay so those might not have been my exact words). What it means is that we are one of 64 teams that participate in a soccer tournament that can only lead to fame and glory!

We're from Utah right? Utah State University. I mean I guess it's easy to see that we may be from Texas or West Virginia (that's my favorite state because everyone forgets it's a state!...or at least I do).

Anyways. The ONLY other Utah team in the tournament is BYU, a team from Provo for all those that aren't familiar with the Utah schools..although I'm pretty sure the only people reading this thing are people I practically forced to read this thing. CARRYING ON.

We could've gone anywhere! Boston, New York, maybe even West Virginia! (does that place even exist?) But we are playing BYU...in Provo.

There! My venting is done. I'm actually getting more excited for it. I have friends that go there, my whole team can come, and I don't have to miss any school! *cries in corner*

It'll be good. Scary, but good. No traveling memories, but good. Good good good. Right then. Good, let's continue on.


I bought a watch online, for a dollar or so, and I sent it to the wrong address. I don't know what to do and I'm all sad inside. I just want to go jump in leaves. That's all I've ever wanted to do. I may just go do it by myself! That's it! Point and case! Decision made! I'm walking to the park RIGHT NOW.

Goodbye cruel world! If you ever want to see me again...I'll be at the park.

Finally!

I know I know. It's about time right?

So I suck at this. And I know I comment on the fact I suck at this every time I post a new blog thing (well lately at least), so I've made a bet with myself. A bet that will put all other bets to shame! A bet that...wait for it...involves new clothes! Whoopie!

All and all, I told myself if I can successfully blog for 3 weeks (to a month), EVERY SINGLE DAY, then I will buy myself a new winter jacket...I love jackets more than the Aragorn poster that stares at me as I fall into sleeping realms...well maybe not that much, but you get the point.

I'll try to keep things interesting, but seeing as my life is pretty darn boring, don't be expecting glitter and flames or a dragon ball or anything. I can't promise those things. Do you hear me? I promise nothing!

However there was one crazy thing that has happened.
My team won the WAC championships today! Whoop whoop!
*cheering from the distance*

Shut up distant fans! I'm trying to blog here.

It's fun. It's so much fun. I'm practically obsessed with my team, it's actually probably really unhealthy.

Oh that? You're wondering why I'm holding a knife while looking at a picture of my team? Oh oh...heh...well don't be scared, I was just about to cut up...my couch. YES! that.

Also I've made the realization that sleepy Jeannie is the worst kind of Jeannie. I know off-the-wall, crazy Jeannie only leaves pain and broken objects in her wake (I'm not kidding, that Jeannie literally can not go without accidentally making someone bleed or cry, or without smashing something that wasn't supposed to be smashed)

And normal Jeannie is well...she's weird.
Sleepy Jeannie is lucid Jeannie. She's aware of all the shenanigans normal and off-the-wall, crazy Jeannie get into. She's the only sane one out of the bunch, and therefore the most BORING person in this and many other universes combined. She needs to go away. I was thinking of naming her. Maybe Magenta, by Amy said that was too upbeat.

If you have any suggestions, by all means, send them my way.

Okay, well till tomorrow! (because I want that effing jacket)
Word.