moi

Return of the blood harlot

2012-01-29T19:51:00.004-07:00

Recently, I started selling my blood again. Back in October I went on a little hiatus but recent economic crisis like tuition deadlines have turned me like a dog to its vomit, back to the place of plasma.

As I sat in the medical chaise lounge pumping my fluids away for cash I heard another guy talking about how he's been doing this for a year and a half now. Then I realized I've been doing this almost non-stop since the summer of 2009. That's two and a half years. I thought, "man, that's a long time. I'm pretty much a pro at this by now. I've seen everything" And it's true, I've seen people pass out, people vomit, lots of needle adjustments, some pretty bad bruises, plus about every B movie I've never wanted to see (Ghost Rider anyone?) "Yeah," I thought, "I've seen it all."

Then as the phlebotomist removed the needle from my arm the tube disconnected from the needle and splattered blood all over my face, my shirt, my chair, his scrubs and the trainee he was demonstrating for.

Selling blood is fun.

Sign #34 that you're a college student: The ability to fall asleep at any time, anywhere, for any reason

2012-01-27T16:49:00.004-07:00

Last night I was watching the Republican Florida debate at my parents house. Right after Wolf asked the final question I thought to myself, "I'm just going to lie down on the floor here for a bit." Next thing I knew it was 3am, I was still lying on the carpet in the middle of the study, and I hadn't even heard the answers to the question. My family had proceeded to live their lives normally, stepping around my sleeping body all evening and then gone to bed leaving me with nothing but carpet and the company of our home's only non-bed blanket—Phyllis II. I have a few vague recollections of being uncomfortable but otherwise I could have been a log.

My family apparently believed I was.

In which Lexi has a very bad day as well as a top five most awkward encounter of her life.

2012-01-23T16:32:00.014-07:00

This morning I was walking to school and two cars in a row refused to stop for me in the crosswalk. As the second one came close to hitting me I thought, "I wonder what these people around me would think if I just flipped that guy off and yelled."

And that was the beginning of my Monday.

I continued my walk while considering what this terrible thought meant for the prognosis of my day and slowly made my way to the class for which I am a TA. Class started, I gave some critiques, named some typefaces—the usual stuff, but then about midway through the period, the largest wave of sickness and pain I've ever felt rolled through my abdomen bringing fuzzy edges and dry heaving as I started wishing to die.

I didn't die though. Instead I spent five minutes of agony begging the receptionist for some pain medication followed by a brief lie down on the floor in the bathroom (yes, I did that) in an attempt to avoid passing out. After a few more minutes of terrible pain I formulated a plan. "I have to go home." I thought, "I can't curl into a ball and cry in front of my class." So I called my mom to come pick me up, and then with as much composure as I could muster, told my professor that I had to go home.

He just gave me a confused, "okay..." after which I left. I exited the lab and walked down the stairs of the Snell about to leave the building when who did I run into?

Oh, just that one boy who I sort of broke-up with last week. (actually, he might have broken up with me, I'm not entirely sure, the details are still a little hazy) That one boy who I sent a border-line mean text to last night. That one boy who I hadn't spoken to since then.

That one boy exited the classroom right next to the stairs at the exact second my foot reached the ground level. There would be no pretending we hadn't seen each other. It was required to speak.

"Hey." said Lexi.

"Hey." said the boy.

Please can we lie down and die now?! said Lexi's body.

Nothing, said the hallway.

"So, I'm sort of sorry about that mean text yesterday." apologized a delirious Lexi. (what she meant was sorry about that sort of mean text yesterday.)

"I understand." said the boy.

Nothing, said the hallway. Nothing for at least fifteen seconds.

Why are you stopping to have a conversation?! Lexi's body cried.

"I'm going to get some food if you want to come with." said the boy in an attempt to be nice and let them still be friends.

"I'm actually feeling kind of sick, so I'm just going home." explained Lexi.

Mildly put, said the body.

"Oh. Okay." responded the boy.

Leave now! said the body.

Enter: Girl who knows the boy and has a voice that at this moment was irritating beyond all reason.

"Hey there." Voice said to the boy

"Hi." he said.

LET'S GO! said the body.

"Did you get a haircut?" Voice asked.

"Yes" said the boy

WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? said the body.

Awkwardness, said the hallway.

"Bye." said Voice as she left.

"Your hair does look nice. Okay, bye" Lexi said as she walked through the same door the boy was also going to leave through. He, however, paused so he wouldn't have to walk next to her.

Too bad she sat down on the curb by the parking lot that he had to walk past to leave the Snell. She sat because she could no longer stand and then called her mom again to see where she was. The boy walked past Lexi sitting in a skirt on an icy curb bent in half crying to her mother over the phone and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine." Lexi said as she died a little.

Ahhhh. Go away! said Lexi's body.

I'm getting your skirt really wet, said the curb.

The boy made an exit in an incredibly awkward fashion while thinking Lexi was a crazy loon.

Long story short, the next two hours were spent in terrible pain, after which every symptom vanished leaving Lexi happy as a clam once again.

Well, a clam who thinks about flipping people off.

The New Year

2012-01-06T12:09:00.004-07:00

Well 2011 came and went. I accomplished some cool things like... more school...

However, one accomplishment (sort of) I found today was that I made it onto Justin Hackworth's Best Photos of 2011 post. Yeah, that's right, scroll down about 43 photos and you will indeed see me on the list. And my grandma too.

I'm famous.

Snoozin 'N Treats

2011-12-27T11:51:00.001-07:00

Before finals ended I wrote a list of things I wanted to do over Christmas break because I was going to have lots of time to do whatever I wanted. It included reading novels, sewing things, designing things, changing my portfolio, etc.

Instead, I have spent my time doing this:

I hope you are having a good break. Mine has been tasty.

In which we talk about someone who is way cooler than me.

2011-12-22T12:48:00.004-07:00

This is my sister Matisse. (The one wearing reindeer horns)

We've talked about her on here before, but I would just like to say that my sister is the smartest, wittiest, Dostoevsky lover-ist person I know.

And that's not even an exaggeration either.

Sure, she writes a genius blog on which she sometimes mentions her accomplishments like getting into the graphic design probram, getting paid to go to Russia for a semester, or talks about our cat, Coldplay, or her Honda Civic Turbo. But I am here to tell you people that you don't even know the half of it. Probably not even the smallest fraction.

You don't know about the conversations we have where we discuss Gotham and Didot, or geeky inside jokes we like to make last forever. You don't see our deeply complex negotiations over clothing sharing or those times when we recline the seats in the car and discuss our woes. You don't know the clever nicknames we give things (nor will you ever) or the times we talk about the future.

But you don't have to just take my word for it—just meet the kid and she'll spew some awesomeness for you.

The passion that fills this girl's soul is something that most people don't really comprehend. Sometimes it consumes her, but always it drives her to be great. Some people would look at her and think, "Wow, she's so lucky!" But luck has got nothing to do with it. She's worked so hard for all of those good things. (Except me of course, I was a gift from Heaven) She doesn't always succeed, but she always comes back even stronger.

There is no one else in this universe that could be a better sister to me.

In which the sleepless zombie formerly known as Lexi has her luck run out

2011-12-08T10:10:00.008-07:00

Yesterday I had my 7am class for the last time. Since 7am is not really a time that is easy to be punctual for, my genius little TEE posse came up with a system of taking turns going to class on time to make sure we get the announcements at the beginning of class. (which are generally the only important thing we do in there.)

Yesterday was my turn.

Since I stayed up until 4:30 the night previously, when my alarm went off at 6:15 I instantly snoozed and made no more movements. And then suddenly it was 6:52. I took exactly three minutes to wallow in self-pity and think loathsome thoughts about cold weather, and early morning classes and this terrible responsibility that was mine, before I blindly stumbled out of my loft bed (possibly—no, definitely the worst kind of bed one could ever have) and felt my way to the bathroom.

I say blindly because it was way too early for there to be any light and as of Tuesday my glasses look like this:

Don't even ask me how that happened. One second they were on my face, the next they were on the ground broken. They didn't hit the ground and break, they broke, fell, then hit the ground. Yeah, my face broke my glasses. Unfortunately, what this meant for me that morning was that I was going to have to put in my contacts.

Now friends, allow me to explain that there is nothing so utterly uncomfortable and miserable than doing a sleep deprived shuffle into a too bright bathroom at 6:55am with dry eyes and trying to open them wide enough to stick your finger and a small piece of rubber onto them.

Nothing.

I finally squashed them in and decided tokeep my eyes mostly shut in an effort to help them adjust as I went and pulled on a pair of jeans, ugg boots and a coat. Then I went to the car, drove to the Crabtree parking lot, sat the Pearl in an illegal spot and marched right on into class.

It was boring, and pointless, and everything I knew it would be but then I had a rather odd sensation. I thought, "what is wrong? Something is amiss. I know it." And then it hit me. I carefully looked around the room to see who's field of vision I was in, and then I casually did a little back scratch on my self.

Yep, I sure wasn't wearing a bra.

Call me Scrooge

2011-11-30T18:59:00.001-07:00

I've decided that the greatest indicator of someone being immature is excessive laughing.

You look like a dang fool.

My yellow house

2011-11-26T11:12:00.002-07:00

Thanksgiving was a couple days ago and I've been thinking a lot about my home lately.

I love Provo. I love the beautiful mountains that I can see out my bedroom window, and all the ridiculous BYU students who live in my neighborhood, (except liberty square people who park like idiots and block our driveway all the time--may the devil and his angels tow your Toyota corolla down to hell.) I loved growing up in a tiny pioneer house and I love that I can see my family whenever I want to. I love the snow and the fall leaves and spring that really is just an extension of winter. I love just experiencing life here and I never get tired of the beauty around me. Whether it's the mountains, the fishy lake, or someone's golden soul--there is a lot of amazing to be found in this place.

You can tell me there's nothing to do, or that I haven't experienced "real life" in the "real world" because I live in a Provo bubble, and I will tell you that you are the one who lives in the bubble. Open your eyes and see past your bias.

People ask me all the time if I'm excited to get out of here at last, or am I going to move after I'm done with school? One day I will move away from here, and I will be sad but I'll have no qualms about it. I will move wherever I need to and I'll be happy (just please heaven, don't let it be humid!) but Provo will always be my first home, and I am thankful for that.

On Zumba

2011-11-16T22:04:00.004-07:00

As you may well know from my previous exercise posts (all one of them) I am not super athletic, or in shape. But in a somewhat ridiculous attempt to fix my flabby appendages I bought a wristband for BYU exercise classes.

There are a couple zumba classes a week and my roommate who goes all the time loves them. After her strong recommendation, my vague recollection that I like doing dance aerobic kind of things, and my complete disregard of the fact that my roommate is also the most ripped woman I know, I decided Zumba would be fun route for me to take.

My top 5 discoveries since this time:

1. Zumba makes my body cry.

2. Zumba makes me sweat more than anything else I've ever done.

3. My cha cha resembles an antelope having a seizure.

4. I totally love this ridiculousness.

5. I should go more because that pass cost a lot more than amount of times I've gone.

In conclusion, the best summary statement is found in one of my friend's recent fb statuses: Doing Zumba is like being the drunk dancing girl at the party. Except you're not drunk, you're not at a party, and you know exactly how stupid you look.

Amen.

Stay Gold

2011-11-03T22:56:00.003-06:00

The other week Chelsea and I went to Warren Miller's new ski movie in Park City. Before the show there were some of the skiers from the movie signing posters and Chels and I wandered up there acting like we knew what the heck we were talking about as they chatted with us about skiing. Then one of them signed my poster, Lex, Stay gold.

I have no idea what this is even supposed to mean. Maybe it's significant in some skier dialect, but he wrote it to Lex, and I always feel awesome when people call me Lex. Perhaps I will explain that later.

Anyway.

Today was one of those days where I felt like a fool all day. In woods class, in classroom management, when I talked to my professor about being a TA—a fool. Some days are just discouraging I guess. I've been thinking a lot about the future lately—a dangerous practice when all you've got in your future is haze. I registered for my last semester of classes a few days ago, and then that's it for me. One semester of student teaching and this phase of my life I thought I could prolong forever will come to an end. I will graduate.

The future is a scary thing. It never works out the way I think it will (which is really, really good generally) Sometimes I think about how I need to just stay gold. To just do it. Whatever it even is. Last summer I had a second job as a graphic designer, and in the middle of my interview, as he was asking me about my photoshop knowledge the thought, I do not want to be a graphic designer flowed into my mind loud and clear. Since then it's been quietly simmering in the back of my mind, always there.

I will teach. Most likely. I'm still sort of on the fence. Sometimes I'm sold on this, and other times, I don't know. When I feel like I've done a good job teaching, and connected with my class, that is the best feeling in the world. I thrive on that kind of energy, but the fact that I've rarely had that happen to me is a little problematic. Most of the time I'm not a great teacher. It's way harder than it looks.

I've been taking this class about adolescent development, and it's so interesting to me to see how the teenage brain works. How they process information, make decisions, and what drives them. Maybe these adolescents and I are not so very different. Maybe I still have all the same insecurities and poor judgement but I'm just older. After all, they say college is just an extension of adolescence. Maybe I am still an adolescent.

I'm starting to ramble.

In my defense, I did write a lovely post with this title about the poster that tied in so well with my desire to teach high school. It was inspirational and well written. But then I forgot to save the draft on my phone so now it's gone and I don't really remember what the tie in was.

I'm going to bed.

Take me to your leader

2011-10-18T10:09:00.003-06:00

Today the king of the firebugs invaded my office.

To be completely honest I'm not even entirely sure he was a firebug because while he had the same shapely figure, the colors on his back were sort of different. Also when I squished him it smelled like ammonia or something though to be fair that could have just been my adrenaline heightening my senses. Maybe my office always smells like that. Who knows.

All I know was that he was huge. And even I, who no longer freaks out when they land on me, jumped away and squealed. He was terrifying and after his squished body fell on my bag belly-up I squealed even more and felt a bit queasy. I put a piece I paper over him in my trash can so I don't have to view his disgutingness.

Gross, gross, gross!

2011-10-17T20:51:00.001-06:00

I cannot wait for the day when I have my own house.

Things I am ready for the world to be done with

2011-10-14T11:32:00.004-06:00

1. Mustaches— real or on your coffee mug, in your wedding photo booth, on your baby's onesie, as a tattoo, etc. This was never a good idea!

2. The word vintage

3. Shabby chic everything

4. Fruit flies—I realize this is not a trend but they are taking over my house, and I want them to die.

Happy weekend.

oh, also firebugs. They are back this year with a vengeance.

Dear Prezi,

2011-10-09T23:12:00.004-06:00

Thank you for saying you had saved my work and then just erasing my entire presentation I've been working on for seven hours.

It's now 11:12 pm and I have nothing.

You suck.

Alexis

My fifth year

2011-09-16T07:45:00.001-06:00

Three weeks into school and I feel I have felt out my classes well enough to give a repot on them.

Every time I wake up to go to my 7am drafting class I want to die. This means I usually am late so I drive to class and park illegally. This is okay though because I'm fairly certain BYU parking people don't even go to work until 8.

I'm fairly certain my woods teacher's father's is named Geppeto. The man communes with, breathes, and probably eats wood. In class he uses a 2x4 as a pointer. When he demonstrates how to turn a vase from wood he makes it look like he's carving from a block of cheese. I like him immensely.

My adolescent development class lets me analyze my five siblings that are teenagers. They are like poster children for teenage symptoms. It's fun to tell them the names of behavior they are exhibiting.

In my dad's class I am the only girl, and the only non industrial design major. Also I am the professor's daughter. They are all very nice to me.

History of interiors and architecture is fascinating. I feel this class will end up like French and Italian cinema in the sense that some day I will be in a situation where the knowledge I learn will make me look like a cultured genius.

So far so good.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

2011-09-13T12:45:00.001-06:00

Because it wanted to chase me around our front lawn.

I think I like chickens even less than ducks.

Happy birthday

2011-08-22T22:10:00.004-06:00

Two weeks ago was the seventh birthday of my little blog! Seven years old! It's true, I did get off to kind of a slow start, so really it's more like three years-old but nonetheless, two weeks ago was the birth date.

Alright, alright, I'm lazy. Though, in my defense I did actually write this post on my blog's birthday. I just didn't post it. Since the only hits I get on my blog these days are from people googling "scary possums" and "Clint Eastwood eyes" I figured it would be a good idea to put something on here.

A couple weeks ago Chris was telling me I should write on my blog more. He said, "2009 was the prime of your blog's life." I would agree. 2009 was a pretty good year for this blog. I wrote more than the last two years put together and I would say it was better writing. I metaphorically sat down to mull this over and see if I could identify what factors had changed between my entertaining blog with lots of readers then, and my boring blog now and I have discovered two things.

1. I edited my posts more. High school english was right. Good writing is about revision.

2. My motivations. 2009 was kind of a hard year for me. No, it wasn't all terrible, (I went to Europe for Pete's sake!) but I think that I felt a little lost for most of that year. I don't want to say depressed—perhaps morose is a better word. I think mostly I was writing for attention. Not that I don't write for attention anymore, because let's get real, anyone who writes a blog is writing for attention, I just don't need it in the same way.

Two years ago I was insecure. I still am but not as much. I felt as though I never conveyed myself in the way that I really am. Like people could never see me the way I felt I was because I never acted like it because I was too terrified of everything. Sending something you authored about yourself out into the internet void feels like you are setting the record straight, and then when people actually read it and you know you have an audience it makes you feel like you were communicating in a way that is accurate. Writing about your life in any manner is a pretty good way to have some introspection. Blogging is just journaling with an audience. You get the benefits of journal writing, and you are flattered that people like what you write and who you are enough to read your blog. Sort of a false sense of security through self-flattery I guess, but it was a bit of a release for me.

And then I grew. With old friends and new people in my life who helped me be more confident and happy. I needed to express myself less and less here and slowly my two halves glued themselves together.

So basically I just care less about this blog then I did before. Because I don't need it anymore. I just like it. I like to document parts of my life that are fun, just like I love reading other people's blogs about their lives. I do still believe blogs are a good place for self expression, a good place for creativity. However, I just don't think about it every day. My blog is more just about fun these days.

Anyway. There it is—a feeeeelings post. Haven't had one of those in a while...

Business in front...

2011-08-15T21:26:00.004-06:00

Today as I was scrolling through my wedding blogs I came across this and got an audible chuckle out of it.

Mullet Wedding Dresses - Party In The Front, Princess In The Back

In other news, can we talk about how much I hate the trash the dress trend?

Why would you ever want a photo of yourself in the most expensive piece of clothing you've ever owned lying in a stream/jumping in a pool/jumping off a dock/jumping off a boat/jumping off a cliff?

I feel as though this is something people will look back on in a couple years and think What was I thinking? I was such an idiot!

It seems like a frivolous waste of money to me. If you really don't want your dress anymore sell it, or donate it.

The pearl did a bad, bad thing

2011-08-13T21:04:00.001-06:00

I came out this morning to the gruesome scene of the pearl lying in a pool of power steering fluid.

I seem to remember just fixing this...

Sundance moonlight ride

2011-08-13T20:57:00.001-06:00

We may have jumped off at the second stop and snuck away to watch the meteor shower. (only saw two) when we came back the guy said he was supposed to call a truck to come pick up people like us, but he let us get back on the lift anyway.

I was mildly interested to see what the time-out truck would be like.

Yes, I'm a technology major

2011-08-03T12:01:00.005-06:00

At work I've been cleaning out what is for me my office, but for everyone else a storage room, because we needed more room for a new filing cabinet. I've been finding all kinds of neat stuff in this place.

For example, little mini black and white photographs (are they called proofs? I don't really even know.) of some chemistry professors from probably the early 80's. (sorry it's sideways)

The old department cameras and accessories.

And this little blue gem.

A zip drive. Now, keep in mind that I was in grade school until 2001. I've never actually used one of these. Really, I'm proud that I even know what it is. I smiled and remembered the era when colorful computers were cool (remember the clamshell ibook?) and was about to set it in the pile next to this gem of a digital camera when I saw this:

A zip disk (is that what they are even called?) full of fonts. Tempting. Who knows what treasures awaited me on that disk? maybe it was a whole collection of something that was expensive! Maybe this is why I have had to install every good typeface my computer has ever seen all by myself, because chemistry has been hiding all theirs on this little disk! I decided to check it out. I mean, I'm one of those children that's never experienced life without a computer. How hard could it be? Plus, it had this nice little two step diagram on the top of the thing:

Step one was a little more tricky than I had anticipated. Turning it on. I think I may be missing a cord because there is this one suspicious outlet on the blue beast that has nothing to go in it.

Considering that there are only two holes, I assume this is for the power. Deciding to ignore the fact that there was no electricity pumping through the thing I moved on to step 2 and popped the little disk inside. Surely the usb connection could power it right?

Wrong. Now the fonts disk is stuck inside and I can't figure out how to eject it.

Foiled.

BYU Approved

2011-08-02T14:00:00.003-06:00

The house next door to my house (the rental, not my parents' house) is know by the locals as The Projects. Mostly because it's shockingly even more trashed than the typical student rental in Provo (don't even get me started on how rentals are ruining our neighborhood...)

Also just discovered it's a meth house. They tested it last week, and to pass it needed under a 1. It scored a 9.5.

I live in a slum.

Things as of late (Am I a terrible blogger or what?)

2011-07-27T18:38:00.006-06:00

Please excuse the foot photo

2011-07-10T09:31:00.001-06:00

My toe has a mosquito bite on it. The second one, the little piggy who stayed home from the market, and it itches like the devil. I can't even itch it because it's in such an awkward spot! Have you ever tried itching half a centimeter away from your toenail? It's hard.

This has definitely been the year of mosquito bites. I have like five million and so does everyone else I know. Those wee beasties are coming on strong with all this wet weather.

I don't even know how I get them. My pale complexion is proof I don't spend a great amount of time outdoors, Yet, I am left itching myself into insanity.

Mosquitos ruin my life.

Yellow jersey, though technically it should be polka dotted

2011-07-09T15:17:00.002-06:00

Today Mati, Hannah, and I accompanied Sam to his first official bike race. The Porcupine
Hill Climb in cottonwood canyon. 3800 foot climb over 14.7 miles. He came in first in his category and did quite a smashing job if I do says myself.

Sam is cool. Now for some photos.

This is what happens when you have a pit crew of your sisters.

Sam in his smashing yellow jersey before the race.

As we were waiting for them to take off I made a new biker friend. He waved me over and said, "my name's Bruce. What's yours?" Then he asked if I was going to the top and if I would take his arm warmers with me for him. I said sure.

YouTube Video

The bikers took off. Sam in his yellow jersey started in the back. (p.s. That is not me screaming)

Then we followed the peleton (it want really a peleton, I just really like that word) in our motorcade just like the tour de France.

YouTube Video

My finger is over the microphone so you can't hear my witty commentary. A tragic loss. Also, always forget to rotate the phone!

And then sam passed a million people and came in way sooner then we were expecting so I didn't have my camera ready (meaning i credit these last few photos to Matisse)

Bruce got his arm things back, and we all went home dead tired. Except for sam who is out mowing the lawn now.

Happy day.

Oh, My Buns...

2011-07-07T23:32:00.005-06:00

FACT: Generic P90X hurts just as much as the name brand stuff, however, I do believe it is vastly more entertaining. (What? I do workout videos?*)

There are plenty of reasons it is entertaining and perhaps I will one day write a comprehensive post listing them all, however today you get two:

1. Meet Sally

2. Meet Angry Girl:
No, that's not just a chance expression captured in the screenshot either. She always looks ticked off.

Working out is way more fun when you feel afraid.

* The answer to that question is no. I am lazy and never exercise. However, when I do exercise, ridiculous things are my method of choice (i.e. Generic brand vids. Who even likes running?)

An Adventure in the Sky

2011-07-02T18:19:00.006-06:00

Yesterday Mati and I went for a balloon ride at the freedom festival's balloon fest. There really is nothing else like standing in a field as the sun comes up and watching thirty giant balloons fill with air all around you. They ripple, and slowly expand, and it's really quite beautiful.

The ride was a blast too...

This is the balloon we rode in:

This is the balloon the other people from the office got to ride in.

I'm not jealous...

I risked my phone's life to take this photo.

Held it right over the edge!

It was all around a very lovely day.

I'm famous

2011-06-28T10:49:00.003-06:00

Remember that time I went with my mom and grandma to do the 30 Strangers project? Well the exhibit has arrived! It will be hanging in the Auditorium Gallery of the Harold B. Lee Library (it's on the first floor) from June 30th - August 1st! yay! Also, the opening reception is on July 15th, from 6-9pm. You should come.

I mean, there's going to be a picture of me there...what more reason do you need?

(plus we don't even know which one it will be yet!!! how exciting. Come find out.)

That one time they called me champion

2011-06-27T22:15:00.001-06:00

Throughout my entire life I have received exactly one sport related award. It's no secret I'm not really athletic.

Kindergarten through second grade i would beg the P.E. teacher to let me organize the equipment closet instead of playing dodgeball. (and really any other sport for that matter) The sad part of that story is that he usually let me because when he made me play I would always be the last man standing because I'd hide in the corner until everyone else was out and then we'd have to do a stalemate because I was pretty good at the dodging part, not so good at the throwing part.(aka I wouldn't throw the ball)

However, even though my beginnings weren't that impressive there was a time I was considered great. That time was called fifth grade.

When I was in fifth grade it was the fiftieth anniversary of my elementary school. In celebration we had a fifties party. At lunch one day there was a hula hooping contest. And to get right to the point, I won. Hands down. One hour and fifty seven minutes of pure hula hooping magic.

Those poor suckers never saw me coming. They looked at me and saw a geeky kid with a Joe dirt hair-do and overalls. Little did they know I had been training all my life for that moment. The summer after third grade when we stayed with grandma and grandpa because Hannah was having heart surgery I got my very first hula hoop. My grandpa would sit on the porch and time me as I hula hooped on their little lawn.

I was pretty good at it too.

After two years of intense practice I creamed my competition and won a trophy at the school assembly--one of the proudest moments of my life.

Yeah, I'm a champion.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

That's the spot

2011-06-21T22:42:00.000-06:00

The other day (alright, week) I went and got my very first massage, a gift from Chelsea for my birthday.

No, for all you smartikins who like to make jokes about this, it was not someone from my ward, or some guy I know. This was the professional strip-down-to-your-level-of-comfort kind of deal. I've never had one of these before, but I had heard all kinds of great things from Chels.

At 3:00 we set off for the massage place and as we're driving along State Street in Orem Chelsea mentions, "So, I hope this place isn't too sketchy...we're having people in training do it because it was cheaper, but I think it looks fine."

With that calm reassurance we pull into a vacant parking lot with grass growing in the cracks in the asphalt and see the peeling paint on the plaza's directory sign which points us to suite 4D. A we approach the door Chelsea says, "well, their website is nice..."

We open the door and things start to look up a little. The reception is no plastic surgeon office, but it's not too shabby. We're greeted by two women at the front desk who introduce themselves to us and say they're going to be doing our massages. Then they give us some paper work to fill out and as they are about to leave turn and say, "so, we have you as having this massage together. In the same room. Right?"

Chelsea and I look at one another and make gurgling throatal sounds.

Then we look at the lady.

We make some more awkward sounds before getting out, "well, yeah, I guess that's okay, I mean, okay we can be in the same room. I guess.."

She looks at us like we're speaking finnish and says, "well, we were just wondering because we had you down as having them together."

"well, uh, I kind of meant just at the same time," said Chelsea. "But we could have them in the same room I guess."

"It's five dollars extra."

"We want our own rooms."

They move one of the beds out of the room and into another and after the whole strip-down-to-your-level-of-comfort-and-lie-on-the-bed routine, she comes into the room and says she's going to put on some music. Norah Jones isn't really my type of zen massage music, but whatever.

The massage itself...not as relaxing as I thought. Maybe massages aren't what I thought they would be, but they kind of try and dig your muscles out. not really the gentle rub I was expecting.

But it was still an adventure.

A few bits of old news

2011-06-21T21:44:00.004-06:00

So, I'm a terrible blogger. And yes, I know this isn't a report I have to fill out for the masses to read, but I still feel a little guilty when I miss commemorating significant events. (e.g. Hannah's birthday, Mom's birthday, Dad's birthday, my birthday, Mothers' day, Fathers' day, etc...)

So, to catch you all up really fast, go read my sister Matisse's blog. It's better written than mine anyway. Here, here, and here are good places to get you started off, and yes that first one is about me. :)

Anyway.....Big news.

I've joined an elite club of of 100 million.

I'm now officially a cool kid.

All of my wildest dreams came true.

I am now the proud owner of this lovely:

If you are rolling your eyes because you think I'm a bandwagoneer, think what you will but know that I still barely know how to turn anything other than a mac on.

If you are rejoicing you have great cause, because my average answering percentage just jumped from 40 to close to 95.

If you are jealous of me, I am glad.

Who even needs a live pet?

Oooooh yeeeeeeessss.

Dear Free Typeface,

2011-06-10T08:49:00.001-06:00

We were getting along so nicely until you decided to not include numbers in your collection. What kind of typeface are you?!?! Now I have to change everything.

Sincerely,

One Vexed Lex

Everybody's a critic, but mostly me.

2011-06-06T21:25:00.009-06:00

Today Chelsea described me as a wedding critic.

I would agree, however shorty thereafter I put my foot in my mouth by saying something was really tacky, and then not two seconds later finding out that who I was talking to was, in fact, doing it at their wedding.

(blue tennis shoes on the bride in case you were wondering.)

*sigh*

After this extremely awkward moment I made a desperate attempt to dig myself back to sea level by agreeing the color combo of lime green and royal blue is a great way to showcase the couple's personalities into the reception.

And then I decided that I should probably just publicly apologize if I have offended any of you with my wedding critiques. I've said a few things on my blog on the topic, but if you ever speak to me, it's probably come up once or twice.

So if I say something you had or want to have is a terrible idea, I'm sorry. I'm opinionated about weddings. I'm not going to say things I think are tacky are beautiful or classy, and I could still give you a list of a hundred terrible ideas that people are convinced are great, but if you don't agree with my thoughts on what tacky is, I don't mean to be offensive and I still like you as a person. It's your wedding, and you can have whatever you want. Please don't think I'm a huge jerk.

But I still will never believe blue tennis shoes are a good idea for a wedding.

All My Friends Are Dead*

2011-06-05T16:30:00.006-06:00

Maurice died this morning of a severe chill.

I am sorrowful, but he's in a better place now.

My family thinks I'm a terrible person.

RIP fishy friend.

*In reference to this book. I highly recommend it.

A few thoughts

2011-06-02T11:32:00.002-06:00

Today I realized after walking to class in shorts that it has been almost two weeks since I shaved my legs.

Yesterday my computer at work got upgraded to CS5.5 (I was still using CS3...yes I know.) and I would just like to say that those little tabs at the top instead of opening a new window was the best idea Adobe's had in a long time. This is my very favorite new feature.

Everyone on the block is jealous of my red Electra Amsterdam and I like it.

I like Maya waaay better than flash. Thus far...

I continue to sway on the fence about whether I would like to be tan this year, or if I'll just accept my ghostly paleness by thinking about wrinkles....

An unfortunate truth

2011-05-31T11:20:00.002-06:00

Regardless how very clever you believe yourself to be, or how you handle the task with utmost care, yogurt will always spit on you as you open it.

Today:

Lexi: hmm, this yogurt looks good, I think I'll have it.

picks the yogurt up

Lexi: I must be careful to not let it spit on my new shirt, yes.

grasps the yogurt lid.

Yogurt: bquepp.

Lexi: blast.

Rain: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2011-05-19T11:04:00.003-06:00

The Good: My new umbrella. I cannot explain to you how very happy it makes me or why, but I love it. Also I get to wear my rain boots without looking a fool. Plus, people in Utah don't have to pray for rain anymore.

The Bad: Provo's ditches do not seem adequately prepared to handle all this water because my walk to school is very similar to Frodo and Sam's walk through the dead marshes. Minus the dead things. Rain boots are necessary as I stepped in five inches of mud yesterday and it suctioned my foot right in.

The Ugly: Crazy flooding everywhere. April had 200% the normal rainfall plus extra snow. read an article about it here.

You Can Stand Under My Umbrella

2011-05-17T14:09:00.007-06:00

Yesterday I bought a new umbrella. It was time for it to happen because this is what I look like when I walk to school with my current one.

I've held on to that umbrella for a long time because even though three of the spokes are broken so it's more of a rhombus shape, and there are two holes the size of quarters in the fabric, it's usually not that big of a problem because I live in a desert where it hardly ever even rains.

(Yeah, you hear that UT? It HARDLY EVER rains here!)

Unfortunately for my trek to school it has been raining a lot as of late, which means I needed to get a new umbrella. I knew just what I wanted, and after exactly one google search I spotted my prize for only $16.99 at Target.

I present to you the clear bubble umbrella:

I have wanted one of these for years. If you remember from the very first post after I resurrected my blog from the days of my 16 year-old self, my family hoards umbrellas. Yet, we have never had one of these beauts.

And now it is mine.

Today the first thing I did after waking up was check the weather. High of 50º it told me, 80% chance of rain. The sidewalk was wet, the skies were overcast, things looked promising but when I went outside there were no droplets falling from the sky, so I carried my closed umbrella under my arm to school. After class I went home for lunch and there was still no rain.

Now it looks like this outside:

Liars.

Snowflake

2011-05-16T15:24:00.000-06:00

I am one of those people who is so pale they're practically translucent. Whenever I go to sell my blood they always comment on how my veins look much closer than they really are just because you can see them through my skin so well.

Too bad that doesn't help them have any extra accuracy...

Anyway, yesterday I sat in the quasi sun for about an hour while having a picnic with my friend Sarah. Today the back of my legs are sunburned. and they kind of itch.

Boo.

Wordpress: Ruining my life one php tag at a time.

2011-05-15T21:36:00.009-06:00

This term I am taking a programming class for my major. Right now I'm supposed to be finishing up my portfolio website which is due tomorrow. I designed it, I wrote the html for it and the css (which, let me tell you, was a major accomplishment in and of itself) but now I am trying to transfer it over to wordpress' style sheet so it can be dynamic.

It.

is.

killing.

me.

If I, and my poor laptop make it though this alive, it will be a miracle.

A miracle.

P.S. Also I would just like to publicly announce that I do not, in fact, hate Maurice. I just neglect him.

P.P.S. Yes, I am a bad person.

In which Lexi remembers why she doesn't have any pets.

2011-05-11T10:34:00.009-06:00

Maurice stinks. His bowl stinks. His water stinks. Everything about him stinks. I swear that fish just poops 24/7 because his water stays clean for about one day before it becomes a murky swamp.

This is why when I was little my parents told me I couldn't have a dog. Because they knew I would love to take care of it for about a week, and then I would get sick of it.

You know what? They were right.

Why did I buy a fish? They stink! And they don't even do anything! I abandoned him at my parents house while I moved because he would have sloshed out in my car. But then I kinda started to hope Hannah, the crazed animal lover, would want to adopt him and beg my parents to keep him there next to her frogs.

That plan worked about as well as the Hindenburg.

Now Maurice is going to have to move back in with me. Poopy fish.

Don't act so surprised Maurice. We all knew this day would come.

On Holey Things

2011-05-03T11:30:00.001-06:00

I have this pair of jeans that I love.

Actually, I have three pairs of jeans that I love, because I have three pairs of these exact same jeans. I love them. They're from Gap, straight cut, dark wash, no flashy sequins or crazy embroidery on the back pockets, just a nice simple adult jean (but not mom jeans!). And I love them.

The only problem is that all three pairs have become holey, and what is it, 2005? who even wears jeans with holes these days?

Heh, well, actually....

But I diverge. The point is that these jeans have not lasted as long as I had wished. They all have met a tragic fate and now I am fresh out of jeans I love.

Tragic fate of pair 1:

Last summer I was in Emery, Utah. It was hot, and we were kind of hiking. I decided to jump over a rather deep crevice but it was a little wider than I anticipated, and I didn't quite get my feet under me as I landed. Result: one ugly purple scar on my knee (still very visible today), and one very large hole in the knee of my pants.

Tragic fate of pair 2:

It was October, I was on a date at Corbelly's corn maze. A first date. There was this little obstacle course thing and we decided to see who could race through it the fastest and get back to our starting point. As I was climbing up through uneven diagonal platform kind of ladder/tunnel (No, I can think of no better description than that) my pocket happened to snag on some piece of wood. Result: ripped back pocket (thank goodness it didn't go all the way through) and belated embarrassment (because I didn't even notice until I got home though I'm pretty sure he did)

Tragic fate of pair 3:

Today, just a few minutes ago I saw my bum in the mirror. And my jeans are worn pretty much all the way through on my bum. Like, five threads holding them together. Result: the last unholey pair becomes holey. And I am fresh out of jeans that an adult would wear.

So...Dear readers, because I believe in your observational abilities, I need to know where good jeans are to be had. I could go back to gap, but I think I'm ready to try something new. I don't like stretch jeans, I don't like super skinny jeans or ultra-low rise. Also no crazy embellishments. Do you have any suggestions for me?

Share!

The Places You'll Go

2011-05-02T21:49:00.002-06:00

The last two weeks on The Amazing race they've been in Zermatt, Switzerland.

I've been there! woohoo!

To the Weather,

2011-04-29T12:08:00.002-06:00

It's time to get warm already.

Regards,

Lexi

30 Strangers

2011-04-24T22:12:00.005-06:00

Last week I got to participate in Justin Hackworth's 30 Strangers project with my mom and grandma. It really was superfantastic. He is such a great guy, and I really love the couple photos I've seen. Having my picture with my mom and grandma was so fun, and a really valuable experience.

You can go check out a few teasers on his blog here. (including the two on top)

Bed Intruders

2011-04-23T14:31:00.005-06:00

Two nights ago at 3:42am I was asleep in my bed. I'm a back sleeper and was shifting around. I put my arms up over my head and then was sharply awoken by something.

Something that bit my arm. It hurt, a lot, and it brought me right out of those REMs.

Now, when you've just been awoken by a creature with an unknown size, venom, and level of danger and it's 3 in the morning, things get a little terrifying. I jumped out of my bed as quickly as I could (which compared to how I get out of bed at 7am, was pretty darn quick.) and tried to decide what to do next. It was dark, I was blind (not about to go blindly groping under my pillow for my glasses when they were probably in the clutches of the monster) and I was scared.

So I did the only logical thing my fearful brain could think of. I decided to wake Chelsea.

You see, there are many reasons that Chelsea and I are friends, but one of the big ones is that she has no problem killing bugs. She doesn't squeal or squirm, she just takes the tissue, and kills that thing before it knew what was going on. Occasionally she will make me do it to help me "man up" but I figured that in such dire circumstances she would take care of my little problem.

After she was awake, we turned on the light. There was indeed a small bite on my arm that was a little swollen with a red spot in the center. Chelsea carefully moved my pillow and I grabbed my glasses. Once able to see again we began the search of my bed. We carefully moved each layer of my blankets one by one. No monster. No monster. We moved the pillow again, no monster. But then we heard a sound.

A terrifying sound.

And out crawled a wasp. It was hiding between my mattress and headboard. I swated it with my journal. Then squealed. Then chelsea took my journal and squashed it unto death.

Here it is on a crocheted hat. Sorry it's not really in focus at the right spot.

Monster.

Crossing The Threshold

2011-04-21T23:37:00.007-06:00

There comes a time in every daydream's life when it becomes something more than just a dream. That moment when you decide that maybe, just maybe you can pull it off and then you decide that it's actually going to happen. And then the dream becomes a plan and it shoots little streams of excitement through you every time you think about it because you know that now, you are actually going to make it happen.

And with that, I present to you Lexi and Chels' Grand European Adventure of 2011.

Except we're not going to Europe.

Gili Meno, Indonesia.

Departing August 2011

Wow, that was fun.

2011-04-18T20:36:00.004-06:00

Due to the overwhelming lack of participation, I have decided to name the fish on my own. (though thanks for the one suggestion Momster)

He has been christened Crazy Old Maurice. Or Maurice for short.

Isn't he cute? (I even used an actual camera to take this picture)

A new addition to the family

2011-04-13T20:23:00.002-06:00

Forgive my facial expression, Chelsea had just suggested I name him Demeter which is some greek god of fertility.

I didn't want to take another one because the last 23 attempts looked like this:

Anyway, he is still the fish with no name.

If one of you smarty pants blog readers suggest a name that I like, you shall win the honor of having my $1.99* goldfish named after your suggestion. How exciting!

*if you too want a fish friend, go to Jay's Jungle on Center street where they are $1.99. If you go to Petsmart they are outrageous $5.99! Thievery!

Right now I'm working on my photography final.

2011-04-12T20:55:00.001-06:00

One day I will be ready.

But for now, photography is still really hard.

MIA

2011-04-01T20:56:00.003-06:00

While I was in Minneapolis (we totally swept the awards by the way. Placed in everything. My group got first in the video competition.) I had an almost heart attack because something that I love very dearly was missing.

My blog.

Now, you might say, "Lies! You never even write on your blog! How can you love it?" But friends, I do love my blog. A great deal. Yes, I neglect it, but come on. We've been together since '04. I was 15 years old then.

Anyway, there I was freezing my face off in Minnesota when I get a text from my brother. "Blogger said your blog has been removed? What does this mean?!" I checked and sure enough, it said my blog had been removed.

Panic.

How could this be?! all of my posts! gone! Why didn't I back them up?! WHY? I felt terrible. Like I had lost a friend who I never told I loved. My life was tragedy. I googled reasons my blog could have been removed. No, I don't think it was offensive, no, I'm pretty sure I didn't plagiarize anyone. (because the content on this blog is worth plagiarizing...)

But then the next day it came back.

Still need to make that back-up...

A small rant

2011-03-31T16:44:00.002-06:00

The other stories I promised (that no one probably even cares about) will come soon.

(p.s. This is Georgia.)

Back to January

2011-03-24T23:08:00.004-06:00

Presently I'm in Minneapolis, MN for the ITEEA (international Technology and Engineering Educators Association) There are a bunch of sessions we can go to, but mostly we came to compete. It's been a blast. Also freezing. The day we got here they had a massive blizzard and shut their airport. It's really cold. Like those couple weeks in january when it would get to 31 and people went outside in shorts. Unfortunately a camera is one of two things I forgot to bring. (the other being mati's blazer...) You'll just have to take my word for it.

I wish I could tell you about all my fabulous adventures and inside jokes, but I know it would only bore you to death. So instead, I will give you a teaser of things to come.

Next time: my blog goes MIA, along with my wallet. Stay tuned.

Fictionist

2011-03-16T16:05:00.005-06:00

Alright, so I know I've been doing these promotional things lately, but this one is kind of a big deal. Fictionist, (formerly known as Good Morning Maxfield) a band that began here in Provo (I even had a class with the bassist once. ) has a chance to be on the cover of Rolling Stone. They made it through the first of 4 rounds, and you should go rate them so they can continue on.

I've heard them live and have an album or two and their music is fantastic. But don't take my word for it, you can listen to them yourself and rate them by clicking on that little box up above. Also, if you want to see the other artists in the competition or see more about the contest, go here.

(also, for all you google readers, you will have to actually come to my blog to see the fancy little box.)

Ahem.

2011-03-10T09:57:00.005-07:00

I find the general lack of a basic knowledge of etiquette to be quite disturbing. It would seem the trend is to cast etiquette off as old fashioned and backwards. Unnecessary and pointless.

In regards to this, people who say they are just blunt and honest are ridiculous. Informing someone that you are a blunt person before you say something rude does not make what you say any less rude. Labeling rude as blunt doesn't magically make what you say acceptable. In fact, being aware that you are rude, and not caring enough to change it makes you worse.

And that is all I have to say about that.

A post about few of my favorite people in this world

2011-03-09T14:35:00.006-07:00

This my friends, is my best friend/sister Matisse, the genius blog writer and Dostoyevsky lover of Violet Hill fame. We've been best friends since before I could remember, which is great because she always brings a little swank into my life.

Last, uh... month, Matisse turned 19 years-old. My little stylish sister is getting so old! And that's not even the extent of the good news either. Brace yourselves because next year Matisse and I are going to be roommates!! WOO HOO! I'm moving away from my fabulous apartments, and into this adorable little house with Mati, Chels and Amy. It's going to be the best thing since sliced bread. So congratulations Matisse, congrats on being born and receiving the honor of being my roommate.

Alright, next up, is Britny.

Britny, the fabulous cousin. Britny, the kind. Britny the incredible. Britny, my mother's favorite child. Britny, the woman of incredible skill and talent. Britny also had a birthday last month (notice the birthday cape in photo below), which was all in all very exciting and good, however the even more exciting news is that she just got accepted to The University of Michigan's Masters Music Program! One of the top programs in the country, this is something that only two (or one, depending on the year) students can claim every year.

She is the most ridiculously talented pianist ever, and such a hard worker. She deserves it more than anyone in this world. Congratulations Britny!

Alright, alright next up we have Spencer, my older brother whose genius knows no bounds. You don't understand your Biology? Spencer does. Your computer is possessed by a demon? Spencer will exorcise it. You need a genius idea for your class project that is due tomorrow? Spencer will fork them out alphabetically or chronologically depending on your preference.

And not only is Spencer smart, he is also kind. Probably the nicest person I've ever met in my entire life. He even lets me call him Patcha. So happy birthday to you Patcha!

And last, but certainly not least, we have Chelsea. The best friend/roommate a girl could ever ask for. Ever since that fateful day when we realized we had American Heritage, Book of Mormon, Biology 100, and French 101 together freshman year (without having ever met) plus we lived just one floor apart, we've been a dynamic duo. Whether it's backpacking across europe, helping me rip off my toenail, speaking french, making me ski down things I think are suicide, or helping me figure out my life's problems, Chelsea is there for me. She's smart (Environmental Science anyone?) beautiful, and awesome. The best combination ever.

Anyway, Chelsea is now as old as me. Yay!

And I'm still excited about our house.

I have the coolest friends ever.

The search has begun!

2011-03-08T18:18:00.005-07:00

Friends, comrades, stalkers, I call you to join in the search for Utah Valley's best burger! This fabulous site just launched, so you should go check it out and fill out your very own bracket. If you're right, you could even win a basketball signed by Jimmer, the demi-god.

Over the next month, eight judges will go to each burger joint and give it a score. The winners will progress each week until we have the final winner. The competitors: Five guys, In-N-out, Red Robin, Apollo Burgers, Burgers Supreme, Fudrucker's, JCW's, Purple Turtle, Stan's Drive In, Sammy's Cafe, Broiler Express, Tommy's Burgers, Emmett and Ethel's, Coney's, Smashburger, and T's Diner Style.

This is what the bracket looks like, and if you fill it out, I swear they won't even spam you, (Stephen Hales Creative, my dad's company, is heading this up.)

You can fill out a bracket until March 14th

Click here to fill out your bracket now!

The Cycle of Regret and Disgustment

2011-03-05T12:19:00.004-07:00

Presently I am at the office, working on a brochure. It's one of those projects I should have been working on for the last three weeks, but what are you going to do? Sometimes all day projects bring forth my best work.

Anyway, whenever I'm at the office for extended periods of time I get hungry. And then, every time without fail, I go through a little thing I like to call The Cycle of Regret and Disgustment. I don't know how this happens, or even why, but it continues to cycle it's way through my ruined life.

My stomach lets out an insufferable growl. feed me you fool! and I briefly begin to review nearby food establishments in my mind. Cafe Rio? No, that's too high rolling for a poor college student like me. Taco Bell? What the, why did I even think that? I hate Taco Bell! Wendy's? that's kind of far away. Go home? That's even farther away.

I'm so hungry! says my stomach again.

Alright, I tell it, We're going to find you some food and fast! Hey, they have a little stock in the back room of snacks, we'll go see what we can rustle up. I make my way to the back room and find the abandoned fridge, and facing it across the room is the giant shelf of prepackaged snacks. Sunchips, oatmeal packs, Ramen noodles, hot chocolate and Chef Boyardee Beefaroni personal-size cups greet me.

How about some nice sun chips? I ask my stomach.

I need sustenance woman! Give me something delicious!

I scan the shelves again. Well, the Beefaroni does have meat in it...

Yes, yes! That looks delicious! Let me have that! cries my stomach. So I peel back the metal top, not unlike the one found on Cato's food supply, and pop my little cup into the microwave. 45 seconds later I have a bubbling bowl of Beefaroni before me. I carefully carry the cup back to my computer by the sides so I don't burn myself, and then take my first bite.

Eleugh! says my stomach.

Eleugh! says I. That is totally gross. Why did we pick that?

No kidding, says the stomach, Definitely not as good as advertised.

It was advertised as Beefaroni. What were you thinking it would taste like?

Actually, I'm pretty sure it tastes exactly like it did last time.

Blast. Foiled again

And that, my friends, is the never ending Cycle of Regret and Disgustment.

Work

2011-03-01T21:34:00.004-07:00

Should be doing: Final rubric project for TEE 377.

Am doing: Slimming down my facebook friends list.

Also, could we talk about how everyone I've ever known on facebook is engaged/married these days?

What the...

The Amazing Race Begins Again!!!

2011-02-18T17:32:00.004-07:00

The amazing race starts again on Sunday!!!

WOO HOO!!

This season is made up of people from other seasons who had bad luck and were eliminated as a result. (came in first then realized they'd lost their passport? ouch.) Some of the teams were my favorites, and some I hate, but I think it's going to be great.

Alright blog friends, here is your assignment. Watch it. It's easy, you can watch full episodes on cbs.com! I need someone to watch it so we can be excited about it together, or at least so everyone doesn't think I'm a crazy loon when I talk about it.

Excitement!

Dear Poster About Federal Budget Cuts,

2011-02-16T01:24:00.005-07:00

Professor said you would be a good topic because you would be hard to design. It's 1:29am and you still look stupid. He was right.

Very tired and never wanting to think about budgets or cuts ever again,

Lexi

Possibly Even Better Than Christmas

2011-02-09T13:57:00.007-07:00

I love Valentines Day.

(Yes, Matisse and I are related.)

Valentines Day just makes me want to flounce around and throw glitter on everything.

Can you imagine if everyone decorated for Valentines Day? Can you imagine how ridiculously cute everything would be?

sigh.

Photo credits

XO party: forgetmeknotweddingsblog.com

I love you garland: This is Glamorous

Pink cake: I am baker

Love arrows: Design Sponge

Adorable Heart cake: I am baker

Heart cookies: Design Sponge

Heart bakeware: Things Organized Neatly

Gold Heart cakes: This is Glamorous

In the meantime

2011-02-06T10:03:00.005-07:00

Finding myself with no more Lost to watch and in between seasons of The Amazing Race, I was in great need of a new TV show to love. I wandered a little, but then I did come upon a new show. A fantastic show.

Now, if you've never seen Psych, I highly recommend it, but I would also offer a few warnings:

1. Give it a chance, the first episode I saw I thought was dumb and cheesy, but that was mostly because I didn't know the characters. (p.s. I want to be Gus' best friend)

2. Dont start at the beginning of season 1. Those are the worst, and they switch out a few actors after the first two episodes. I think they get progressively funnier. Also, I never watch them in order, not that it really makes a difference, but I just kind of jump around in Netflix.

Enjoy.

The vultures are descending

2011-02-03T18:08:00.004-07:00

The time has come for everyone in Provo to find a housing contract.

The dive that I live in is in high demand because it's right across the street from campus, and consequently right before it's time to sign contracts at least five people a day come knock on our front door and ask for a tour of our apartment.

How rude.

To solve this problem, Chelsea and I made a sign to hang on our front door.

It kept the snoops away for a while. But then we decided it was maybe too mean, so we put up a new sign:

"We are not giving tours of our apartment. Thanks!"

Today however, our door was knocked on by a stranger. The moment she found out some of us might be moving she pounced and started weaseling her way into making a deal to buy our contracts before the date when everyone could start signing up. Before I knew it I had almost promised her my first child and when she left and we were like, "what the... how did that happen!?" So we sent her a text in order to avoid her uncanny selling powers, and told her we probably wouldn't be able to sell her our contract.

We should have kept the first sign...

Level 25

2011-01-28T14:18:00.006-07:00

(This is not a screenshot. What kind of phone do you think I have?)

In my family, everyone has an iphone. Except me. (and maybe Chris.)

This is not because of lack of want, in fact, I'm not even sure how it has managed to evade my possession for so very long because I desperately want one. (and I will have one come June!) Regardless, I don't have an iphone, I have a blackberry. I've had it for a year and a half now and it's been a pretty good little phone but it lacks one major thing—games.

I have exactly one game on my phone—Brick Breaker.

I don't know how many of you have actually played Brick Breaker but it's no Plants vs. Zombies if ya know what I mean. you just hit the little ball around with the paddle, catch the bonuses and do your best not to die. Not terribly exciting, no great graphics.

And yet...

I find myself playing BrickBreaker fairly often. Why? I was stuck on level 18 (of 34) for over a year, never beating my high score. But then, a miracle. Last Wednesday I was playing and somehow found myself on level 18 with 3 lives left. 3. So I made it all the way to level 25!!!

I got to level 25! Do you realize I was only 9 levels away from the end?!

I will beat it. I will.

Where I've been

2011-01-27T08:55:00.001-07:00

But instead of Twitter, it should say Google Reader.

Yes, even though I don't ever post, I do still read.

Today, I want to be in Switzerland.

2011-01-08T19:37:00.008-07:00

The time has come

2011-01-03T10:56:00.002-07:00

I need to get my hair cut.

I am still feeling a bit traumatized from last January's haircut, infact, I haven't even gotten my hair cut since I got that disaster fixed, which was a shocking three months later.

I keep telling myself it's just a trim. Everything will be okay.

A New Year (Somewhat early because otherwise I would probably just forget)

2010-12-28T11:35:00.006-07:00

I was just looking through my archives to see what New Year's goals I made last December to prepare for a fantastic New Year's post this week, but it appears that I didn't put any on my blog. Either I was feeling rather unambitious or I wrote them somewhere else and they are now lost. In any case, they were probably something like exercise, get a boyfriend, learn to cook, etc. For those of you who are interested, I weigh about seven pounds less than last January (which unfortunately doesn't mean I'm healthier in any way), I found myself a boy to date (the sudden drop in posts corresponds with that event), and I am still really, really good at making toast.

This year though, I don't think I'm going to put any goals on my blog either. I mean, I could write about how I should eat healthier, but really, I'm not sure I desire that enough to actually eat any healthier. I could write about how I want to save money, but that vague goal is worthless unless I put a dollar amount with it, and as we know it's not polite to talk about money. (even though I seem to constantly complain about being poor....sorry fools)

I will say however, something that I would like to accomplish this year is going to be awesome at my major. I haven't really talked very much about my new school experience since I got my new major (Technology and Engineering Education) but I would like you all to know that I love it, so much. And after my interview last week, I did officially make it in. (there is apparently an entrance process) It's like I go to school now and everything we learn I think is fascinating. Pretty much everyone in my major is awesome and I think that we all mesh rather well. I love the environment, I love the subject matter, and I am getting closer to being sold on the idea of being a teacher. Somedays I'm 100%, and somedays I think I would rather work as a Graphic Designer. But we shall see I guess. Whatever I decide to do I would like to be good at it though.

It's such an unusual sensation, that now in class we do things that I think are really interesting, and that I want to be the best at. And sometimes I am. And I love it. I'm not really someone who's ever been the best at anything, I can think of exactly one time in highschool that a teacher ever told me my work was fantasticly good, I've always just kind of been sort of average. My own fault yes, but it never really bothered me. My work was good and I usually put a fair amount of effort into it, it was just never the best. But now that's something I want, and I can't tell you how fun it is to strive for that. How good it feels to look at your work and be proud of it.

So I guess I did end up writing about a goal I have. Does it sound arrogant? I hope not. Doing really good work just feels good, and sometimes being the best is great.

Ah, what the heck. Writing this post has given me some goal ideas.

1. Find the Imposter. Sometimes I'm tempted to add her on facebook but I will settle for a sighting without the friendship because I worry about if she found my blog and read all the things I write about her. I suppose if she googled herself my blog would be the first thing to come up though anyway...

2. Write on my blog sometimes. And not just crap as I've been doing lately. I feel like I used to be better at this, but now the only readers I have are the poor souls who got suckered in when I actually wrote about interesting things and have lost so much brain matter reading my posts, they don't know that they should leave.

3. That's about it for now.

In which my soul cries in anguish

2010-12-17T13:36:00.002-07:00

The tabernacle

Is now this:

I really cannot tell you how devastating this is.

Full story here.

Excitement!

2010-12-16T20:39:00.001-07:00

Woo hoo!

and Penelope Cruz? What the...

17

2010-12-14T21:49:00.004-07:00

This is my brother Sam, and today he turned 17.

I would have blogged earlier today, but those cheetah wedges traumatized me so much....

A few fun Sam facts:

1. Sam is a biker. He bikes every day during the summer, and up mountains like they're nothing.

Lexi: Today I rode my bike to work, that hill by the gate? Yeah, hill of death.

Sam: I biked 65 miles today. I beat this guy up to Squaw Peak overlook.

Lexi: I'm a bum.

Crazy.

2. Sam is a vegetarian. More so because he doesn't like meat than anything else, he's a very picky eater. From ages 3 to about five he would eat nothing but pop tarts, and lived in mortal fear of bread. Not an exaggeration either. (he does eat real food these days.)

3. Sam will never let me take pictures of him. As you can see here, here and here. The one above I sneaked in from below when he was cutting his cake and couldn't push me away because of the large piece of cake in his hand and the white rug beneath his feet. His open mouth is saying, "Hey!"

4. I remember when Sam was born. The people at the hospital put him in a Christmas sock to take home instead of a blanket.

5. Sam speaks German. Surprisingly well.

Happy birthday Sam!

And for the mere price of my tuition I could have...

2010-12-14T18:50:00.002-07:00

I want these. bad.

and to make matters even worse, there is not a single pair of leopard wedge booties left in my size (and my price range) in the entire world. Nowhere to be found.

My life is hard.

What the devil?

2010-12-11T19:50:00.004-07:00

Last week I went to a White Elephant work party with Matisse.

This is what I took home:

From the moment the unsuspecting girl across the room opened it, I knew it must be mine. I stole it the next turn. (Luck? I think not. Pure divine intervention is what that was.)

What the devil is it!?!?

Anyone who can tell me will receive +100 good karma. Go.

And on the sixth day, it was clean

2010-12-11T19:13:00.003-07:00

Once a month in my lovely apartment building we have cleaning checks. Generally they're not a big deal. Sometimes they spawn from Satan, as described here.

Regardless, they come every month without fail. This morning I awoke to my roommate cleaning the house in a mad frenzy. "Cleaning checks!" she said. Chelsea and I, who were on our way out the door for some exercise, (a run to my parent's house for breakfast) groaned and turned around to go look at the list of jobs and sign up for our share. it was thirty minutes to 10, when the checks start so we quickly cleaned the kitchen and bathroom. Then we left about our business.

Fast forward to 7 pm. I come home from various study groups and ask, "did we fail anything?" (Because last time that happened they charged me and then I was angry and told them to replace the lineolium floors every thirty or so years, and I'm fairly sure they now hate me. see again this post. But I diverge) Leah answered, "they never actually came."

I looked at the sheet. It was true.

I loked at the announcements. Cleaning checks the 18th of december. That's next week.

Blast.

Well, I felt cheated.

Soapbox please...

2010-12-10T10:45:00.007-07:00

Ahem.

This video done by Divine Comedy has recently become rather popular. Ha ha, pretty funny, laugh at the stereotypes, whatever, I would just like to point out to everyone that BYU girls and Provo, UT girls are not the same thing. These are not Provo stereotypes, they are BYU stereotypes. I grew up five blocks from campus, and then I turned 18 and started going to BYU, and I am here to tell you they are not the same thing.

There is a difference!!!

I'm so tired of everyone coming to BYU and being like, "People in Provo are weird, I hate Provo. What is there even to do in Provo?"

Fools! There are weird people at BYU, it's a fact, but I can guarantee you that the vast majority of them are not native Provonians. Everyone comes to BYU and talks about how it's such a huge culture shock and then they blame it on Provo, but what they don't know is that BYU culture and Provo culture are two different things. If they decided to venture outside the bubble they would see for themselves.

BYU is not even a good representation of Mormon culture. It's related, yes, but even then it's still strangely different. Don't get me wrong, BYU is not completely made up of weirdos, there are are plenty of nice normal people who go there too. Also, even though I sound like I'm ripping on it, I am not a BYU hater.

I just want to remind the world that Provo, UT girls are not the same thing as "BYU girls".

And look! C. Jane agrees with me!

Thankful

2010-11-26T18:56:00.004-07:00

Hannah is hiding in this one, and Liv is a bit to...

As usual, this post is a day late, but today I'm feeling thankful.

Thankful for a Dad who is the greatest man I know, and who enjoys making all of the recipes from Martha Stewart's Thanksgiving magazine for us to eat.

Thankful for a Mom who listens to all my woes and makes me feel better all the time. (and also the rolls she makes)

Thankful for Spencer who answers all of my tech questions without acting like I'm an idiot, and who is always patient, all the time.

Grateful for Matisse who is my very best friend in this world, and who likes being nerdy and throwing Lost parties and speaking crazy french with me.

Thankful for Sam who has a freakishly funny sense of humor–when he's not bugging me about donating money to his biking fund.

Thankful for Chris who is the most helpful teenager I've ever met, and who always says nice things to me (except when he calls me an old maid....)

Thankful for Olivia who just oozes creativity all the time onto miscellaneous pieces of printer paper and her sketchbook, and who puts up with me when I am being ridiculous.

Thankful for Hannah who after I collapse on the couch to sleep with one small blanket, goes and gets me sheets and blankets and pillows and makes a bed for me.

I have the coolest family ever. I hope you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving too.

In which Lexi realizes that people who learn how to fix their own cars are smart, not crazy.

2010-11-09T14:44:00.003-07:00

The Pearl is having a problem. A problem of the power steering fluid leaking all out so that I must use all of my strength in order to turn the wheel.

So, today we took a little ride down to the mechanic shop and got an estimate. An estimate of $343! So we called four other people, and got four other estimates of the same thing.

Apparently it's expensive because it's hard to get to and takes time to fix.

BOO!

Lex the builder, can she fix it?

2010-11-08T15:56:00.005-07:00

My my, it's been a week already. I know, you guys are all probably like, "twice in two weeks!! whahoo! She never even posts that much anymore!" (because I know my blog is a really, really exciting read....)

Anyway, if you said that, you would be correct. Thus far I have posted less than half as often as I did in 2009. Look over in that side archive to the right. that's right, 2009—227. 2010—106.

Oh well.

In other news, today in my physics class I used a saw. A band saw. And also a drill press. It was quite intense. My first time ever using an electric saw/power tool. Well, other than when I used a drill to screw together the trebuchet I was building last week.

I don't even know who I am anymore.

A small piece of joy for your viewing pleasure

2010-11-02T19:25:00.001-06:00

The Final Episode

2010-10-23T10:42:00.002-06:00

Last night I watched the final episode of Lost, and it was amazing. I actually cried.

Even though I'm sad that now there are no more Lost episodes for me to watch, I couldn't be happier with the conclusion. I thought it was the perfect culmination of everything the show had built up to. I can't even believe how attached I got to all the characters, and how much I felt for them all. It's crazy how one episode you absolutely loathe someone, and then later they become one of your favorites. I'm not even sure I could pick a favorite anymore.

It's such a good show, on every level. The story, the writing, the acting, the filming, and the characters especially. You should all watch it so we can discuss.

Halloween is fast approaching

2010-10-22T16:09:00.003-06:00

Here's a little something I love. The best part is at 1:12.

Enjoy.

More Trouble From the Impostor

2010-10-18T16:28:00.004-06:00

Today on facebook I received a message:

Alexis,

I found your BYU ID in the HBLL No SHHH zone. Do you want to pick it up from me or should I drop it off at the ID office. My number is 000-123-4567 Please text me and let me know.

-Joe

Checked my wallet, and lo and behold, it was not my student ID that was missing.

I wonder if this impostor is mistaken for me as much as I am mistaken for her.

(although, being mistaken for incredibly awesome can't be as bad as being mistakenly chewed out...)

I still love technology. Always and forever.

2010-10-14T12:04:00.005-06:00

Today I went to take a test required of all teaching majors that is supposed to prove I am technologically literate. I was a little worried. What would they ask me? Would I fail and bring shame to my major?

Friends, rest assured. I am here to tell you that if you ever have to take this test, you have no need to worry. You will pass. Along with every six year-old old the block.

The things I was tested on included:

1. Find an image of a North American Bird on the internet. Save it to a folder. Email it to yourself.

2. Make a powerpoint presentation with three slides, audio, and transitions

3. Create an exact replica of this in Microsoft Word:

(This is what I actually made. And it looks exactly like it was supposed to. *shudder*)

4. Price list in Excel using addition formulas—probably the trickiest one.

Good to know I am now certifiably technologically savvy.

I love Clint Eastwood

2010-10-09T19:22:00.003-06:00

Today I was pondering how cool he was which led me to google Reasons why Clint Eastwood is Awesome, (yes, today was a homework day) which turned up this article.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I'm going to post it here because I know none of you guys are actually going to click on the link.

The Top 10 Awesome Things You Didn't Know About Clint Eastwood

Clint Eastwood has become a living monument of Hollywood. He is to film what Chuck Norris is to roundhouse kicks: the founding father and ruling king. His squint alone has the ability to make lesser filmmakers renounce the craft altogether and his gravelly snarl has made plenty of punks reassess the status of their luck. But everyone knows he’s a bada**, and everyone knows he’s as talented behind a camera as he is behind the trigger of a .44 Magnum. But there are some things you might not have known about him.

10. Clint has directed more movies than Steven Spielberg and George Lucas

Can this be for real? A man who made his mark in this world for so long with his gritty performances of gunslinging toughs has actually directed more movies than the men who are arguably the two most famous American directors in history?

Clint has topped their counts?

Yes, it’s true. Clint released two films in 2008 (one of the strange times you could actually see a preview of an Eastwood movie at an Eastwood movie), as well as two in 2006, two in 1997 and two in 1990. He’s directed sixteen movies since 1990 alone. This is not normal. This is Clint Eastwood. Respect the man, for he is a living legend.

9. Clint played at Carnegie Hall

The man acts, directs, and he even plays a mean piano. And you know when Clint does it, it really is mean, as he demonstrated at Carnegie Hall in 1997. He’s played since he was a boy and is by all accounts self-taught, and has even scored some of his own films (Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, Gran Torino). This is what we call a triple threat. If anyone could take the ivories and make them lethal, it’s Clint.

8. Clint used to dig pools for a living

This just goes to show that even Clint Eastwood came from pretty humble beginnings. Back when he was just getting bit parts in little movies here and there, Clint spent his time between acting employment digging pools for the Hollywood elite who’d already made their fortunes. Which means the next time you’re in the Hollywood hills taking a dip in your producer friend’s pool, take a moment to reflect on the flinty hands of Clint that quite possibly dug that pool for your overprivileged behind.

7. Clint tried his hand at recording pop records

One of the roles that helped make Clint famous was Rowdy Yates on the show Rawhide in the early ‘60s. In an ill-advised attempt to consolidate an audience amongst the teeny bopper crowd, he recorded pop songsmeant to reach out to this demographic. He eventually recorded the album titled, “Rawhide’s Clint Eastwood Sings Cowboy Favorites”. Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone was in the mood for cowboy favorites from Clint or anyone else, and his brief stint as pop star ended about as soon as it began. Which is probably for the better. He turned out to be much better at writing scores for his movie and rocking the jazz standards, which is more than you can say for your average action movie star.

6. Clint was fired by Universal Studios for having an Adam’s apple that was too big

This is one of those moments in cinema history that is just too ridiculous not to be true. After Universal signed Clint in 1954 for the princely sum of $75 a week, which landed him parts in forgettable movies likeRevenge of the Creature and Tarantula, a couple of studio execs happened upon him one day and noticed his Adam’s apple. Deciding it was too big, he was out, just like that. The venerable Clint Eastwood was chewed up and spat out by a couple of Hollywood hacks.

Of course, it was only a matter of time – and not much time at that – before he was rolling, rolling, rolling rawhide, and those execs would be confronted with their own ineffable stupidity.

5. Clint received the French Legion d’Honneur award

...by President Jacques Chirac, no less. Having received this award on February 17, 2007, Clint officially became a Knight of the Empire, which I suppose means that if France and Russia ever got into it like olden times, good ol’ Clinty boy would be at the front of the line to duke it out with Putin. I don’t care how many Judo belts Putin has, my money’s still on Clint.

4. Clint drives a beater

One might think that with all the riches that come with Clint’s level of fame and success he’d be living about as high on the hog as he could without actually falling off the hog altogether. But one would be very, very wrong.

An anonymous source shared with me a very interesting story. My source, at the time, was an employee at the prestigious Hollywood hotel the Chateau Marmont and happened to see Clint, in the flesh, waiting for the valet to bring his car around. Cleverly quipping to the hoi polloi that surrounded him, “I have my Mercedes Benz here,” he patiently bided his time as the lower species of human marveled at the cinematic deity in their presence.

Clint stood there, squinting his scare-the-daylights-out-of-the-daylight squint, when up came his vehicle of choice. And what kind of vehicle would this be? The newest, slickest Benz on the market? No. In fact, a run-down, battered, late-‘80s Grand Marquis sputtered up to Clint, as if the valet had taken it upon himself to play a dirty trick on Dirty Harry.

But this was no ruse, this was simply more evidence that Clint is every bit the man’s man he appears to be. What kind of man needs leather interior? What kind of man needs a CD player, or seats that heat up, or windows that roll down? Not Clint. Clint only needs four wheels that are round and an engine that goes.

As Clint climbed into his Grand Marquis, the back bumper holding onto the rest of the car by a thread – or a Bungee cord, anyway – everyone else looked on in astonishment and admiration. And no one uttered a single word about the man’s mule.

3. Clint threatened to kill Michael Moore

Once again, fact is way awesomer than fiction. So how exactly did Clint come to threaten Michael Moore’s life? Well, it just so happens that Clint got the opportunity to watch Moore’s film Bowling for Columbine, and he didn’t much care for the scene at the end where Moore sticks a camera in Charlton Heston’s face and pretty much makes a fool of him.

So, while accepting a Special Filmmaking Achievement prize for Million Dollar Baby at the National Board Of Review Awards in New York, he says, “Michael, if you ever show up at my front door with a camera, I'll kill you.” The audience laughs, everyone has a good chuckle, and then the laughter dies down.

To make sure everyone knows that this wasn’t a joke and there’s no punchline, he then says, “I mean it.”Gulp! These are the times when I’m glad I’m not a fat documentary filmmaker. Charlton may have been a gentleman about Moore’s boorish ways, but Clint, as always, knows the answer to obnoxious punks: the .44 Magnum.

2. Clint is allergic to horses

And you heard it first here. Now, while your reaction might be to recoil in horror at this juicy little tidbit of gossip, pause a moment and really reflect on this. The man has spent about half of his cinematic career sitting on horses. Horses that REPULSE his body. But did this ever stop Clint from getting the job done? Did he ever exchange any of his squints for a single wince? Nope. Not once. That's because while Clint's body may experience anguish over the hooved creatures that bring it pain, Clint himself is oblivious to discomfort.

1. Clint is a vegan

That’s right. You’d think Clint would maintain a steady diet of rare steaks, beef jerky and live ammunition, but no. He has said that, “I take vitamins daily, but just the bare essentials not what you'd call supplements. I try to stick to a vegan diet heavy on fruit, vegetables, tofu, and other soy products.”

Dang. Hard to believe the same guy who played Dirty Harry would also keep the same dietary habits of the hippies living in Haight Ashbury. Maybe that’s why he’s still in better shape at age 78 than most men are at 25. Well, part of the reason is that Death is too chicken to approach him when he’s awake – and Clint sleeps with at least one eye open. The other is because he apparently believes meat is murder.

Veganism just got 100% cooler.

Goodbye Summer

2010-10-05T16:00:00.001-06:00

Until next year.

Haunted by the past

2010-10-05T13:22:00.005-06:00

One of the great pros of my job is that I learn a ton as I work. In fact, pretty much everything I know about design has come from on the job experience. I'm no genius graphic designer, but I have gotten significantly better over the past few years as I've been working here.

Unfortunately, this provides me with a problem. The problem of my past work.

Some of my past work is really bad. Embarrassingly bad. And every so often I run into some of it, as a brochure in the mail for my freshman sister, or hanging in a display case in some back hallway, and I'm embarrassed that that those things are mine.

But onward, I guess. there's nowhere to go but up, right?

(And incase you were wondering, this post is a result of my current quest to redesign a hideous brochure from several years ago. So. Bad. *shudder*)

Today I got a call from a rather angry man,

2010-09-28T16:36:00.005-06:00

He said I was supposed to be at work, and wanted to know where I was. True, today I did leave work a little early because my mom called and offered to take me to Cafe Rio, but they have always just let me come and go whenever I please as long as I get my work done. I told him this and that I didn't know it was an issue. He said, "well that's not the way it is, you are supposed to be here during your shift, you can't just leave!" and then he chewed me out.

"I'm sorry," I told him, "It won't happen again."

"Well, it's a little bit late for you to come back in," he said, "but you're supposed to be here manning the desk, it's your job!"

I was concerned. Was there some new guy in charge of the hours? Was I in huge trouble? Would I get fired from my fantastic, lovely, perfect job?!

And then...

Wait a minute! I don't ever man a desk! A small amount of relief washed over me as I realized that maybe he had confused me with one of the secretaries who work out in the front because I am often grouped together with them for things due to me being the only one of my kind in the office.

"I'm actually a graphic designer," I told him, "I work in the back."

"In the tool bay right?" he asked, "You're supposed to be here during your shift!"

"Ummm, I work for the Chemistry Department as a graphic designer and I don't ever man a desk." I told him.

"This is Alexis Hales?" he asked.

"Yes." I said.

"Who lives in Helamen Halls?"

And then it all came together. He was looking for my clone.

I told him there had been a mixup, after which he became remarkably friendlier and apologized.

Talk about a heart attack.

Today

2010-09-22T17:08:00.003-06:00

Today has thus far been a terrible day.

I know, I know. Depressing, negative and a downer is what you may call me, but today has just been a really bad day. It happens. They show their ugly face every now and again, just leaving you feeling miserable and sad.

During lunch I went to the Cougar Eat to eat a caesar salad wrap (one of my favorite foods ever) because I was feeling depressed. As I sat at my small two person table thinking about how terrible my day had been to that point, a small voice inside my head spoke up. "This is when everyone tells you to look for positive things," it said, "They say you don't have to be sad if you don't want to be."

And so I decided to make a list of good things that had happened that morning.
Unfortunately, the best thing I could even come up with was that I am wearing yellow shoes.

Today stinks.
But maybe tomorrow will be better.

Crazy

2010-09-21T13:02:00.000-06:00

“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward. Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art? Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written? Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels? While some see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”

— Apple Commercial, 1997

It could have been me.

2010-09-18T15:18:00.005-06:00

So...you remember that post I wrote a couple of weeks ago where I spoke about being an outlaw? well, Matisse recently found this post on a Provo blog (cjane) she follows, and sent it to me.

This totally could have been me. Enjoy.

Sir, I'm going to need you to step out of the car... Chup's Account of Getting Arrested

On my way to the pokey. Kinda.

Two birds with one stone, I thought.

Get a Chicken Cheese Steak from Angels of Philly for lunch because I was very hungry AND check the layout for hanging lights for tomorrow's concert.

Easy, right?

Naturally I was surprised when, as I pulled into a space on top of the Provo Town Square Parking Garage and got out, I saw a police car (henceforth refered to as: cruiser) pull up behind me. All aggresive-like.

I basically stood there frozen as he slowly got out of his cruiser.

"I'm stopping you for expired registration." he said.

I was honestly surprised, and I said so.

I was totally convinced that I'd reach into my glove box and find the registration with the stickers forgetfully, regretably still attached.No such luck. When I finally unearthed the registration, it showed an expiration of January 2010.

"You're 9 months expired. It's a mandatory impound past 6 months."

I think the honest, mixed look of surprise and horror on my face must have swayed him a little because he just asked for my license and proof of insurance. And told me to have a seat back in the car.

He took my "documents" and turned away. He only got about three steps before he turned around again.

"Did you know your license is expired?" (since my birthday a week and a half ago.)

"And your insurance card? (since five days ago.)

Uh.......

I groaned.

Comedy comes in threes, right? How about tradgedy?

Who's dumb enough to have not one, but all three expired? At the same time?

At this point I have to credit the officer with not just putting me in cuffs and hauling me away.

Oh. Wait.

As he sat in his car doing who-knows-what on his laptop, I quietly prepared for the worst. Reprimands...fines...or both. Heaven knows I deserved it.

As he walked back to my car, I gave it my best "sorry I'm a total moron but I'm a pretty nice guy and this will certainly NEVER happen again" look.

And then he said:

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out of the car..."

I didn't even know how to respond to that.

He said: "Were you aware that you have an outstanding warrant for your arrest? From 2001."

It seemed a little absurd. Three...scratch that...four strikes, and all that.

I could NOT remember any ticket in 2001, so he proceeded to give me as much detail as he could: 2001. Citation for exceeding gross vehicle weight (what??) Wasatch County....

And then I vaguely remembered. Around that time I was doing some driving, pulling Hair and Makeup trailers back East for a Church production. The whole caravan was pulled over at an impromptu weigh station in Provo Canyon...

BUT I had ZERO recollection of any ticket.

"You were issued a citation, and it was never resolved. That's why there's a warrant."
Then things started happening kind of fast.

"We're going to go take care of this warrant right now," he said and started to talk into his shoulder mic. He spoke with a smile, but the imperative was unmistakable.

"Am I....going with you?" I stood there asking.

Still talking into his mic, he gave a slight nod.

I wasn't quite sure about the details until he asked if I had anything in my pockets (bad boys bad boys whatcha gonna do...)

"No....er, yeah, yeah"

"Without reaching in your pockets, tell me what you have."

"My wallet, my phone, keys, a five dollar bill and.....a lighter." (a lighter? seriously??)

"Ok, go ahead and take everything out and place it on the trunk of my car."

I did.

"Now I need you to turn around, face the car and put your hands behind your back with the palms facing outward....now spread your feet a little more...now I'm going to need to pat you down."

"Ok...."

Then I heard the clickety-ratchet of hand-cuffs, and look at this: I'M GETTING ARRESTED!

"No one is going to believe this, can I take some pictures? Can you take some with my phone?"

At this point two (TWO) more cruisers had shown up and the officers approached to stand close enough to be....a presence.

Original officer had produced a second set of cuffs to link together to make me a little more comfortable.

"Nothing against you," he said, "It's just that anyone who rides in the back of my car has to wear hand-cuffs."

"No, I get it, standard operating procedure and all that. You have to call backup too?"

"Yeah, anytime we make an arrest...that too tight?"

I shook my head.

"Ok. You have two options: One, I take you over to the Courthouse, and you post bail. $165 cash. Or two, if you don't have or can't get the money, I'll take you to be booked into County Jail. You probably won't actually be put in jail, but we'll do fingerprints and everything. Your picture will be on the website. You can pay by credit card there."

As much as I would love to have my picture on the website, any website, I asked if he could take me to an ATM.

He agreed.I highly doubt cash runs for the criminally delinquent are SOP.

Luckily Central Bank is in the same block as the Parking garage, so he:
- loaded me up (in cuffs, remember) into the back of his cruiser
- drove me down the ramps of the parking garage and around the corner to the ATM
- let me out
- undid the cuffs
- gave me my wallet
- I withdrew $181.50 (stoopid ATM fees)
- he put the cuffs back on
- and put me back into the cruiser.

Then we drove to the station. During the short ride I couldn't believe how uncomfortable I was. The cuffs bit into my wrists, and my arms instantly started to go numb.

And good-grief was I glad that I hadn't robbed a bank or something.

He let me out when we arrived and I walked into the station with this goofy grin on my face.

Looka ME! Ima bad guy!

When we exited the station to walk to the courthouse he offered to take the cuffs off. And you know what? As uncomfortable as they were, I was a little disappointed. I kept hoping to run into someone I knew, just for the excitement.

From there all that was left was to give the Court my money and set a date to appear before a judge.

And tweet about the whole thing.

We walked back to his cruiser (to give me a ride back to my car) and he seemed a little reticent to give me my ticket. For the expired registration, remember? I was a little bummed, but then he reminded me that he could have issued for the expired license as well. And then there was the whole not impounding my car thing too.

Then we drove back to my car, and talked about my wife's blog, discovered we wear different versions of the same watch and I invited him to the concert.

He dropped me off at my car, and you better bet I went in and had my Chicken Cheese Steak.

Being arrested makes you extra hungry.Now I know.

My ride in the Crown Vic. Would you send that face to the Big House??

I'd like to thank my arresting officer (name withheld just in case I said something dumb that could get him in trouble) for being cool. Seriously. I've had the...opportunity...to...interact...with several of Provo's finest over the years and his level of...civility? read: patience/kindness was remarkable. I hope his wife reads this and they come to the concert and we laugh about it. Like Valjean and Javert. Or whatever.

Chup

Feed me that RSS

2010-09-18T15:03:00.002-06:00

I love blogs, and I follow a ton of them. Blogs of my friends, blogs of people I've never actually met but haunt, wedding blogs, clothing blogs, sewing blogs, graphic design blogs, blogs about books, blogs about book covers, blogs that only post pictures of things organized very neatly. Currently I'm subscribed to 67 of these blogs on google reader which provides me with a fair amount of content to read, but since more than half of them only post once a week or less, it's rather manageable. And I love it.

Now something you must know about me: I cannot stand having unread content. Not that I feel I must read every one, but that terrible little bolded number next to the all items button drives me insane. And it's not just with blogs either. In my email, as soon as I open it, I must go through everything and either open it or throw it away immediately. I even empty my spam box several times a day so that number does not haunt me.

So, you must be wondering, "how do these items connect? I thought she said in the first paragraph that all the blogs she follows are manageable!" Well friends, they were. They were until I got a major.

As an assignment, we have to subscribe to at least five feeds that have to do with digital communication. Five. Now, that might not seem like a very big number, and I didn't think so either—I mean, I've already got 67, but it turns out that digital communication/technology blogs that know what they're talking about like to post a million times a day. Consequently every time I open google reader I'm assaulted by around 90 unread items. I know I can just mark everything as read, but I seem to have a hard time doing that. What if there's something important? what if there's a genius idea that I love? what if there's a good tip for the brochure I'm making or a perfect free font that they have a link to?

So I end up scrolling through every single article just to make sure. And it's kind of ruining my life.

Though if we look on the bright side, (which I suppose we should *grumble*) I am becoming a vastly more proficient skimmer than I was previously. So it would seem I will continue, locked in battle with my unread items until either I get over my phobia of bolded numbers, or they stop posting so very much.

(and when I say they, I mean the techie blogs because I sometimes wish more of you guys would post more frequently...hint, hint)

Dear Friends,

2010-09-04T17:08:00.003-06:00

The first week has passed and I would like to announce that school has become infinitely more more interesting. So much so, that even going to my 7am class is not even that bad.
I love, love, love my new major. So much.

Love,
Lexi

The Outlaw and The Pearl

2010-08-31T14:19:00.005-06:00

During the month of August I may have been driving around with expired registration, insurance, and driver's license (okay, so that actually happened two months ago, but maybe I didn't take care of it as soon as I should have...)

However, you should all be pleased to hear that once again my car is registered, my insurance is up-to-date, and I even have a valid drivers license.

Good thing I didn't get pulled over this month...

I do believe in Science

2010-08-25T11:32:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I had my electricity turned off.

I thought we were paying our bills alright, but apparently we were doing something wrong because we spent all day in the dark, and, with no Internet.

We even had to steal a very long extension cord and plug it into the house next to us to keep our fridge good....

Other things that I wanted to use yesterday but could not:

blow dryer

flat iron

microwave

laptop

lights

Also, yesterday was the day I went and got my drivers license renewed. (I had an appointment I had to make three weeks ago!) Good thing my blow dryer wasn't working.

Yay for picture ID.

I believe in Science

2010-08-23T11:05:00.003-06:00

At work I have a new project, one of the biggest and one of my favorites that I do all year. National Chemistry Week is coming up in October, and my job is to come up with a clever way to advertise it visually in this 17ft display case in our building. It's a fun project because it can be 3D which takes all kinds of different elements, and I can do whatever I want just so long as it conveys the theme for NCW this year.

So, I go to the national chemistry website to find the theme, (Behind the Scenes with Chemistry) and read over their brief explanation of what it is all about.

Chemistry is everywhere, whether prominent as a science fair project or tucked behind the scenes of a special effect or book. Current shows such as MYTHBUSTERS and books such as The Science of Harry Potter bring behind the scenes science to prominent view. This allows the public to understand it is not magic, but rather common chemistry topics which can explain the mystery behind the seemingly “magic” that is shown. We want to diminish the term “magic” associated with the “unexplainable” and direct attention to the chemistry which makes these items work.

I didn't know that the general public was still assuming that special effects are actually just magic. But if I can help diminish the apparently common practice of using the term magic for the unexplainable, I will consider it a job well done.

My new plan: A 17 ft display case stating, "SCIENCE IS SORCERY!"

Steal of a Deal

2010-08-20T13:05:00.006-06:00

Yesterday I was at Nordstrom with Matisse, looking at shoes that I drool over but cannot afford. I spotted these:

Frye Harness 12R boots

price: $217.95

I smiled, because it just so happens that I just got these boots from Target:

Mossimo Katherine Leather Engineer Boots

Price: $49.99

I inspected the ones on Nordstrom's display, and I would like you all to know, that other than the heel look (faux stacked leather vs. plain rubber), the shape of the brass ring (flat vs. rounded), and some of the stitching, these boots are exactly the same.

I feel like such a savvy shopper.

Also, stay tuned. We've been redecorating our apartment and some more steal of a deals are coming up. (maybe even better than these boots...if that's possible)

In which karma bites the baby bird in the behind

2010-08-15T22:31:00.006-06:00

Our little friend the baby bird seems to have had an accident.

This morning, the intelligent little creature figured out how to push the doors to the atrium it was staying in, so that they would open about an inch. Our intelligent bigger creature, Cat, also figured out that her paw would fit perfectly through this one inch opening, and swiped that little birdy out of it's cage.

It fell to the ground, and squawked like there was no tomorrow (which to be fair, was quite a real possibility) Sam rushed outside just in time to see the cat pushing the bird around on the ground, curious. And then....

that little baby bird spread its wings, and took flight. Far away from Cat's reach. Far away from anyones' reach. It flew away freer than Free Willy. Sure, it's somewhat sad it had to be under such traumatic circumstances, but really, I'm sure it will be fine.

and if not, I have one word for you, bird.

Karma.

In which Lexi makes an attempt to be friends with a small animal

2010-08-11T09:34:00.007-06:00

I do not really like animals.

Perhaps this makes me a cruel-hearted scrooge, but it's true. I don't hate them, I just let them do their thing and I do mine. Some cats and dogs are okay, in fact there are a few that I like, but in general, I don't really have any desire to associate with your pets, livestock, or your neighbor's pets. No thank you.

Unfortunately I have a little sister who does not feel this way. She looooves animals. She is the one mainly responsible for our cat (who I do like...sometimes), she has two frogs in a small aquarium that she keeps in our bedroom (which I do not like...ever), and she is also partially responsible, with my other little sister, for our newest acquisition, the baby bird.

I'm not entirely clear on the circumstances surrounding it's rescue, however it was rescued, and though I was sure it wouldn't last more than two days, it seems to be thriving. They drop little drops of water into its gaping mouth, and give it smalls bits of cat food, which surprisingly, it loves. It's been nursed back to health, which really just means that it squawks all the time now.

All. The. Time.

They keep it in the little atrium on our porch because animals (other than the frogs that somehow found a loophole, and the occasional cat dash) are not allowed inside our house. I don't live at home anymore, but I do frequent the establishment fairly often, and every time I'm there, that little bird is squawking it's little beak off.

It's quite annoying.

Anyway, yesterday as I returned home for some snacking I spotted my sister on the front lawn with the baby bird, working on teaching it how to fly. She would hold it cupped in her hands, and then gently toss it up into the air, after which it would briefly fly around before fluttering back onto her arm or shoulder.

It was really cute. Cute enough to melt even my icy heart.

I decided that maybe this baby bird was not such a terrible thing after all. Plus, it wasn't even squawking all that much right now. So I walked over to my sister and asked if I could try it. She smiled at me, thrilled that I was giving the baby bird a chance, and she handed it to me. It gently jumped onto my finger, just as cute as could be.

It could have been in slow motion, I raised my arm and gently the bird took flight. It flew out from me about five feet and then turned around to make the return trip. As it was returning most of the information that I knew about birds flashed through my mind. Birds have hollow bones. If you touch a baby bird, the mom won't take it back. This bird is a starling. Birds eat bugs. Birds do not have bladders.

I suddenly decided I did not want the bird to land on me again. Unfortunately, it had other ideas, and was now flying straight at my face. I flailed, and instead of landing on my head it landed on my shoulder. Very close to my neck.

"Get it off! Get it off!" I shrieked. But it was too late. The poop had already covered my sweater and my arm. "It pooped on me! It pooped on me! get it off!" but it would seem that my panicked flailing about didn't really help my siblings get their wits about them for long enough to take the thing off me. No, it most definitely did not. Finally, finally, Hannah took the bird back into her hand and Chris decided to share, "Did you know, birds don't have bladders?"

"Thank you." I said.

All I know, is that for being such a small, bladderless creature, that thing holds a whole lot of poop.