a no. 61 + me, and how we are one in the same.

my room is a mess.

my brain, even more so.

i am going on hiatus for a few days.

...with nothing but the solid beat of coldplay,

[viva la vida's back beat seems to be the only thing keeping me on track these days. i'd trust its consistency with my life.]

and a weekend with the big dawgs, broadcasting live from the s.l.c. 

[p.s., can i even say that about general conference?]

it is time much needed to reevaluate, and clean house. 

meaning self. 

clean self.

i used to look down upon rothko. [i know, whaaaaat?! the naive fool i was...]

however, i realize now that we all have days like those personified in no. 61.

we run from blue, slide off the canvas for a while...

but it somehow always catches up to us. 

rothko wheedles his way into our psyche with melancholy blocks, and convinces us that panels of blue are what make mondrian so worth waiting for. 

and i think he's right. i think he has always been right.

wow. 

are we all just soooo annoyed of my analogy? 

art majors. 

suuuuper obnoxious, right?

i hope your thursday was a good time.

fall television on thursday night is the home run at the end of the inning. 

a release, if you will. 

and let's just get this out there right now: 

the blood sucking hotties were insane tonight.
stefan salvatore in the roaring twenties?

he was a dream.

...or a nightmare. depending on which side you're on.

clearly, i've chosen the vamps. and tyler lockwood.

and where's jer? missed him like mad this week.

on another bloody note,

derek shepherd... tool. i am so over him.

[p.s. are we all wondering where little grey has disappeared to? she's probably rendezvousing with jeremy gilbert and the ghosts of girlfriends past.]

now for some shout-outs:

brooke borup: don't talk to me unless you're ready to spill the details about how you're going to be a wife in three months and all. silence... really, brooke? you? ;) just kidding. but seriously...

matt doane: i'm sorry i let you down. ugh. i'm there in spirit. bring me some homemade mac & cheese. i'll pay you. in toaster strudels. and command strips. unfortunately that is the extent of my possessions right now...

[it's the weekend, loves.]

stupid love. [the real kind.] [kind of...]

i know that it is hard to understand.
but, you guys...
green plaid. EVERY DAY? seriously?
this kid is my soulmate.

so this one goes out to you, quad-to-library-twice-a-week-at-3:41,
[stalker stat? on the contrary. it's all love.]

who are you, and how is it that you manage to seduce me with not a word, but a plethora of plaid button ups on tuesday-thursday.

marry me. thursday. on the quad, i don't care.

i am educated, and i am a grammar snob. join my ranks, i beg of you.

what happens when your relationship with words is healthy, well developed, and on the verge of love? who are we kidding? our love runs deep.

i'm not sure i can go to bat for people who use "me" when they should use "i". and vice-versa.
i cannot render my sympathy to those who toss around semi-colons carelessly, as if to purposefully insult the art of piecing together two delicate sentences.
we are not cavemen, therefore, it is unacceptable to tack an apostrophe onto the letter "s" just because it's there.
"to", "too", and "two" are completely different words, and it pains me to think that we live in a world where the majority of english speakers use all three interchangeably.
"there", "their", and "they're": see "to", "too", and "two".
"your", "you're": are you getting the point, here?

to answer my previous question,

this is what happens:
your favorite high school english teacher praises you for your attempt to lift the rest of the world out of what seems to be a sort of "grammar poverty".
yes, grammar poverty.
support the cause. use spell check. and your brain.



i should make t-shirts.

[thanks, mrs. carter, for furthering my love of the english language. you taught me everything i know! and you did it so classily. you're definitely on my list of people i'd like to be when i grow up.]

it is all going to be alright.

yes, that is true.
because the kitchen was full of uncontrollable giggling,
i had a brinner date with two eggos,
and thick and hefty envelopes full of words like honey sure do put me in a happy place...
[the happiest, actually.]
reassuring me that my life is still semi on track,
and it's fine that i'm a mess.
in fact, i'm rather perfectly fine with being a mess.

plus, i was introduced to telephone charades tonight.
which can only make a day better.

on being grown up...

remember this handsome devil?

me too. sometimes i remember that he's hilarious, witty, and probably the most ethical human being alive. 

and then one of two things happen. and sometimes both. simultaneously:

i either hate myself for not being more like him, or i want to adopt him.

and since i and am without child, and seldom enraged,

clearly i have accepted his perfection, and we're the best of bests.

anyway, lest we not drift off topic...

not only are we a smashing good time [as shown in the above photograph], but we both have sisters living in texas,

twenty minutes from each other;

we have a secret plan to make them besties. 

along with their sets of children. 

it's brilliant, all of it.

next weekend we get to rendezvous in the lonestar state together.

[that is, if standby is feeling generous...]

we're already planning a lunch date.

and we're adults now. because we state hop. just for lunch dates. 

...

okay. no, not just for those. 

it's "special friends day" at the kids' school.

and my julie-sister invited me out.

which i could not pass up.

and helloooo... it's freakin sweet when you graduate from "aunt courtney" to "special friend". 

clearly, i'm important now. 

it must be this whole college thing. there i go, being all "adult" again... ;)

["rory, you're clearly not an adult. because real adults don't refer to themselves as such. and if they did, they would pronounce themselves as 'awwww-dults.'"...any lorelai gilmore fans out there? shame on you.]

okay. i'm getting a bit lengthy.

next weekend will be full of rose children, a julie-sister, a tag puppy, a matthew david, and a braum's burger... if i'm lucky. [julie-sister, pppplease?]  

ttyl, cuties.

did i really just type that acronym? sorry. that was soooo not an adult move.

speaking of being grown up, andy samberg is my favorite adult.

i like to think that if we were in the same social class, he'd think i was cool. 

my birthday is in three months,

and if you could score me just five minutes with him, i would be the happiest butterfly.

thursday afternoon.

nostalgia is an even bigger biotch.
who would win in a fight against karma?
nostalgia's got a killer right hook.
and reigns victorious. e'rrytime.
it knocks me over just as i recover from the last smack down.
need a pick me up?
DO NOT reminisce.
on anything.

...watch hilary duff movies. that's always a good idea.
boy, am i pathetic.

and he looked so handsome.

today's colors are red and white. the plaid shirt today was red and white.
and boy did it melt my butter.

be.

our kitchen windowsill looks like this. and it is rather delightful to see in the morning.

i know i link a lot of my posts to meg fee, but how can i not when she writes something as thought provoking as this? 

i love her writing. i want to be her when i grow up. 

 

enjoy! :)

praying to the god of sacre couer.

my father and i, well. 

we speak french on the telephone.

or rather, he speaks french... and i [kind of] speak something like it.
he ends with an "au revoir", i with a "salut".

...it is a lovely mid-monday ritual.

wish me luck, friends.

this exam has the potential to rock me.

let's all pray.

and then within the hour,

i went from this:

 

to this:

consider me a perma-bob.

i'm in so much love.

me + doing things without thinking: an unlikely match made in heaven.

who knew?

[thanks, rach. love you forever!]

today was full of:

--kardashian fantasma. both the bora bora and chris humphries/kim k. proposal episodes. amy and i introduced cuzzy love to reality t.v. ... she's sooo hooked. i knew we were related.
--the blood sucking hotties. season one. [we've been reunited, and it feels so good.]
--four and a half hours of french audio guides, indefinite articles, and "er" verbs. [i'm going to rock that test tomorrow, just in case you were wondering.]

...and ultimately eight inches of blondish locks that fell from my head, courtesy rachel densley.
it was a whimsical decision, and i don't think i've thought of anything less before in my life.

that's right. the hair is gone-zo,
and i am now a bob kind of girl.

why had i not seen this before now...

feeling a little bit deprived...

i haven't lived until today.

i seem to have misplaced my big girl pants, as it were.

i'd like to give my fallopian tubes a piece of my mind. 

because they've given me a run for my money this morning. 

it's really fun when you get halfway to class, and your ovaries decide to go nuclear on the rest of your insides, forcing you to turn around.

remember how i hated on aristotle the other day? this is why. 

so for that, i have decided against class.

and am choosing to spend my time with cuzzy watching the vamp dies season 2. on dvd. hollar.

take that, 'stotle.

[and p.s. ... did we LOOOVE season 3 premier last night?? 

the stefan/elana sequence nearly broke my heart. 

and since when are matt and jeremy gilbert stoner buds? what was that about?]

anyway.

making the trek home through sardine canyon this afternoon for some good old fashioned fallish fun. 

september is the month that i wait the entire year for. 

cousin night at the state fair, ya'll! 

remember last year?

the only thing missing this time will be jacob, courtney, and those bangs.

ohhh how i mourn for the loss of all three.

and i get to see my dear sweet mother for more than twenty minutes!

which i am ecstatic about!

h.a.g.w.

[have a great weekend.]

really, it is.

school is fun. 

school is fun. 

school is fun. 

maybe if i repeat it enough, my heart will echo the same reverberation. 

...then again, maybe not. 

i know we all want it to be fun. but we also want to think that aristotle was god's gift to the western world. 

when in fact, he thought of women as an inferiority to the male species. 

with bad parts. well. inferior parts. 

that contributed little to the human reproductive system...

hm...

i am learning so much up here, mom.

so i guess this means that i have recently become an aristotle-hater. 

it's cool, off with my head if you must.

i'm practically an embarrassment to my own culture, i get it. 

whatevs.

but.

what i lack in philosophy and the scientific revolution, i make up for in my knowledge of the renaissance and stamps in my passport. 

and that's all that matters, right?

that i try. 

i'm trying, mom. 

hard. 

p.s. 

if you're name is haley potter, and you look like this: 

i'm probably missing you the most today, bestie.

if you're not laughing, you don't have a soul.

right about now,

you're wishing they were your very best friends too. 

ohhhh how i miss them.

we're not friends.

if you're the annoying girl that steals other people's ideas and pretends to be their friend,
i probably am not your biggest fan.
or even your fan at all.
just so you're aware.

and don't think for one minute i won't call you out in public with loud and vicious rhetoric if the opportunity presents itself. it's all in the name of love. which i happen to have a lot of for my friends. that's the difference between us. i lied. the difference between us is the fact that you think we're friends. don't pretend we are. because i won't pretend back.

we square?

je suis pas mal.

the better half of my day involved this:

the art history section is located in the basement of merril-cazier library,

right next to the special collections office. 

i have become rather close to this area over the past year. 

it is a glorious place.

i highly recommend it.

however. the part of my day that wasn't so fun?

getting my A kicked into shape by crossfit.

cuzzy and i thought it would be a good idea.

but considering the fact that we are both lying in our beds, broken with ibuprofen shoved down our throats at only 10:15...

i'd like to revert my previous sentiments on the matter.

last time i did crossfit, i was knocked flat for a solid two weeks.

the hill up 7th north to school tomorrow will not be my friend. i can tell you that much.

...

p.s. did i mention that i sit in a classroom for an hour each day and try to speak french?

did i mention that it, too, mercilessly kicks my butt?

just as peachy as i remember.

one of the many perks of living in cache county:

being a twenty five minute drive from brigham city. 

as a little girl, i remember driving to brigham in celebration of autumn's beginning with peach days.
this year, my sweet parents drove up to meet me.

it was so wonderful to get to spend some time with them!

we bought lots of fresh produce from paul's roadside stand, and later, my cute dad treated us to some good old fashioned maddox.

best beef this side of salt lake.

and the peaches... don't even get me started on the peaches. they're always so divine. 

this year undoubtedly left me without disappointment.

to finish off the night, 

i declined my school's invitation to attend the first football game of the season...

and instead am staying the night in with jane eyre, and a bowl of peaches and cream.

me, pass that up for a football game? not a chance.

one of these days, i've got to find me some school spirit...

...

[happy saturday.

and happy peach days too!]

hey, i'm just looking for a good time.

it's my anniversary today. 

of what, you might ask?

well, my wedding. 

i've always wanted an autumn wedding on this, the seventh day of september.

if you judge me, i'll kill you.

here's what i have to say to you lovelies tonight: 

country swing dancing. 

you're not allowed to only go once.

i promise you, it's not fun the first time.

go, get a feel for the sweat that will drip down your spine.

become acquainted with boys who are too old for you, the ones wearing white stetsons and hail from honeyville, utah... wherever that is.

they make for the very best dance partners, or so you'll come to realize...

you'll attach a disclaimer to your forehead reading,

"WARNING: YOU'RE BETTER AT THIS THAN ME."

but your new friends will take your hand anyway, move too fast, dip you too far, and you'll have a grand old time.

you'll discourage entertaining the thought of this country charade for a while,

try to convince yourself that you're above it all. 

but guess what. 

you're not.

because even if it is a school night,

even if you think you've got better plans, 

it sure beats homework.

and much as it confuses me,

i've never been one to refuse a country boy in plaid.

the very thought weakens me to the core.

title love/my favorite of the night, here.
p.s. is charles kelley not the most handsome man alive?

new roommate.

i now share my private bedroom with another.

we engage in pillow talk and tickle fights all night long.

inappropriate maybe, but also true.

it would be dishonest of me to downplay my obsession with this man.

so i won't.

i'd like to know his name.

he smells like books, but only the good ones.

i imagine he turns in his homework on time, and is rarely late for class.
under only the most extenuating circumstances would it be acceptable.
[i.e. he got caught up reading thoureau. he's dedicated.]
his blue plaid shirt tells me everything i need to know. and i bet he's witty.
he doesn't wear toms, and the idea of high top socks and a new age woodland t-shirt pains him.
clean shaven, and almond eyes.
probably pulls this on important days. and regular ones.


tuesdays and thursdays he smiles at me as we cross the quad.
and once, he came to my table to donate blood.
he's adorable.

i think i'm in love with him.

recipe for wonderful sunday:

my cuzzy and i. 

we were the only two to stay this holiday weekend in logantown,

and it served us well.

we went to the rocket summer concert on campus (fabulous. what else is new?) to finish out welcome week,

made an incredible batch of butterbeer with some friends,

attended our new ward in the sandwich church,

watched some audrey hepburn and gregory peck,

and topped our sunday off with sopapilla cheesecake, and the sisterhood of the traveling pants.

 and as if this weekend wasn't already glorious,

my homework includes analyzing ernest hemingway's the hills like white elephants,

and writing about a famous work of art.

hardly homework.

i was born for the college life.

eighty.

annual welcome week 80's night on the quad.

it was tacky, typical, and fabulous.

and somehow, we managed to attract about a million international students.

which only made the night further amusing.

we are a good time.

reasons you should move to logan:

1. [let us not pretend this needs an explanation.]

2. citrus & sage's garden display. i missed this place like crazy over the summer. remember how i told you i would?

3. i left my heart between 3 east and 10 north. you would too.

[my favorite homes by the temple. the one in the middle simply weakens my seams.]

...

this week was a hard one, and i am thrilled that it's over.

i got an email from my sweet mother today telling me that everything will be alright if i believe in myself and trust in the lord.

that woman.

she always knows the right thing to say.

{have a silly weekend, lovers.}