Why are girls programmed to be the complete opposite of what guys want?
THE FACTS :
[1] Guys say that girls need to put themselves out there. Dude, when we text you first, we ARE putting ourselves out there! Girls have this mentality that guys should text them first, and that's true. But if a girl genuinely likes you [a guy] and wants to get to know you better, they'll text you first. Simple as that. But then if we [girls] text you too often, we're needy? Who made up that rule?
[2] Guys say that they like when girls text them first, but how much is too much? If we want to get ahold of you, we're going to text until you respond. And when you don't respond and we keep texting you, then why are we considered pushy? I'm not going to text you 60 times a day, unless I'm a stalker [and there are some ladies out there like that] but if I text you and you don't respond, and then I text you 6 hours later, why do you [guys] see that as pushy?
[3] Girls are wired differently than guys. If I'm texting a guy and he doesn't respond for 10 minutes, I start freaking out and [1] look at the last text I sent him [2] Analyze that text [3] Send him another text saying "Just kidding"/"Or not..."/"i knew you never liked me" [my favorite] [4] Wait for his response [which could take hours, knowing boys] and [5] Think what I did/said wrong. After talking to some of my trusted friends of the male species, I've come to the answer : when a guy doesn't text you back immediately, it's not because he's ignoring you, it's because he set his phone down and didn't think about it while he was doing something else. Guys aren't as attached to their phones as us girls. This being said, when a guy doesn't text you back right away he probably is making mac&cheese and using all of his energy to not overcook the noodles.
WHY...
[1] Why do guys always go for girls that everyone and their mother wants to date? I think they get the point that they're attractive when 60 guys have asked them out. They're going to end up with one person, and chances are that one person isn't you.
[2] Why do girls go for the unavailable guys? You [girls] may be friends with them [guy] when their lady isn't around, but they're going to ditch you at some point. Girls hang around that unavailable friend because they feel like there could be the slightest possibility that he'll leave you for her. Harsh reality is that he won't. And you know, that in your heart of hearts, it will never work out. Yet you keep hanging out with him 24/7 because you have a false hope.
[3] Why is it that girls keep chasing after a guy they know doesn't like them? When they [the guy] doesn't text you [the girl] back, or gives you 1 word answers, you [the girl] keeps texting him. Why is this!? Why is it that girls try to make something work that won't? When you [the girl finally decide he isn't worth your heartache [and after you've deleted his texts] you think he'll just disappear from your life. It's like you put him in the trash of your computer, and the computer is your memory. And when you [the girl] finally gets over that douchey boy, he talks to you randomly and then you remember why you liked him in the first place. He flirts with you and tells you to text him and this false hope pops out of the trash can in your brain. Why do guys do this??
WHY MUST GUYS PLAY WITH GIRLS HEARTS!?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
outfits.
A : Mom, why is this shirt in Erika's closet?
M : Because it doesn't look good on me.
A : Well you should have returned it if you didn't like it.
M : But I love it!
A : If you love it then why don't you wear it?
M : Because it didn't look good on me.
A : Then you should have returned it.
Obviously that conversation was going nowhere, so I just took the shirt.
And who said wearing a beanie and hightops couldn't be cute?
xx ALi
Sunday, February 20, 2011
criss cross apple sauce.
First things first -- I just came to the realization that [by some miraculous chance] if I ever become facebook friends with beautiful boy from open mic night, he might see my blog. If he sees that post I wrote about him, he might think I'm a stalker. Yikes.
At La Reina, I had a religion teacher -- Mrs.Moore. We wore our little plaid school-girl skirts and really didn't care about the way we were sitting in our desk. The smart girls, like myself, wore spandex or boxers so if we wanted to slump like a boy, we could. Whenever someone had their legs open a little too wide, Mrs.Moore would say "book report", and we would know to shut our legs and sit ladylike. I think I learned more about "acting properly" than I did about The Bible.
Fact 1 : A proper lady should always cross their legs when wearing skirts or dresses so no one can see your...stuff.
Fact 2 : When you are a little larger than usual, this is a problem.
Fact 3 : I, Ali Mahterian, can FINALLY cross my legs.
Crossing my legs has always been an issue. Since I go to church every Sunday, I wear a dress or skirt. Sitting down for 3 hours when you can't cross your legs is awkward. I've tried, and mastered, the whole wear-the-longest-dress-in-my-closet-so-i-can-get-away-with-not-crossing-my-legs approach and the put-my-long-peacoat-over-my-legs-so-i-don't-flash-anyone approach. Those 2 approaches have worked for me, until now, because, drumroll please, I no longer have to use them; I can cross my legs! Actually, when I sit down, it's my preferred method of choice! I cross my legs at devotional, at church, at restaurants, sometimes during class, and whenever I get the chance to. Why? Because I have to make up for lost time. I couldn't cross my thighs for about 4 years, so now I have to work extra hard to get them up to normal. Oh, the perks of being [almost] skinny.
At La Reina, I had a religion teacher -- Mrs.Moore. We wore our little plaid school-girl skirts and really didn't care about the way we were sitting in our desk. The smart girls, like myself, wore spandex or boxers so if we wanted to slump like a boy, we could. Whenever someone had their legs open a little too wide, Mrs.Moore would say "book report", and we would know to shut our legs and sit ladylike. I think I learned more about "acting properly" than I did about The Bible.
Fact 1 : A proper lady should always cross their legs when wearing skirts or dresses so no one can see your...stuff.
Fact 2 : When you are a little larger than usual, this is a problem.
Fact 3 : I, Ali Mahterian, can FINALLY cross my legs.
Crossing my legs has always been an issue. Since I go to church every Sunday, I wear a dress or skirt. Sitting down for 3 hours when you can't cross your legs is awkward. I've tried, and mastered, the whole wear-the-longest-dress-in-my-closet-so-i-can-get-away-with-not-crossing-my-legs approach and the put-my-long-peacoat-over-my-legs-so-i-don't-flash-anyone approach. Those 2 approaches have worked for me, until now, because, drumroll please, I no longer have to use them; I can cross my legs! Actually, when I sit down, it's my preferred method of choice! I cross my legs at devotional, at church, at restaurants, sometimes during class, and whenever I get the chance to. Why? Because I have to make up for lost time. I couldn't cross my thighs for about 4 years, so now I have to work extra hard to get them up to normal. Oh, the perks of being [almost] skinny.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
dear diary.
dear diary,
Last night I went to Open Mic Night at Sammy's! My friend, Katie, played an original song about Valentine's day & it was wonderful. There was this boy -- the only word's that I can possibly think of to come close to describing him are [1] heavenly [2] magical [3] the sexiest man I've ever seen. No joke. Diary, I have a thing for bigger men. He was a beautiful creature that could only have been created by the same person who created me. He played a song on a 12 string guitar [reason 1 he's heavenly] , cracked a joke about how he'd have to go Johnny Cash style because he couldn't afford a longer strap [reason 2] , played an original song [reason 3] , sang like a beautiful angel [reason 4] , and just rocked the effing house [reason 5]. I didn't know whether to gaze into his beautiful blue eyes or pretend to text someone. He was that good. I was captivated and will be going back next week. Maybe I'll grow some lady balls and ask for his number.
Last night I went to Open Mic Night at Sammy's! My friend, Katie, played an original song about Valentine's day & it was wonderful. There was this boy -- the only word's that I can possibly think of to come close to describing him are [1] heavenly [2] magical [3] the sexiest man I've ever seen. No joke. Diary, I have a thing for bigger men. He was a beautiful creature that could only have been created by the same person who created me. He played a song on a 12 string guitar [reason 1 he's heavenly] , cracked a joke about how he'd have to go Johnny Cash style because he couldn't afford a longer strap [reason 2] , played an original song [reason 3] , sang like a beautiful angel [reason 4] , and just rocked the effing house [reason 5]. I didn't know whether to gaze into his beautiful blue eyes or pretend to text someone. He was that good. I was captivated and will be going back next week. Maybe I'll grow some lady balls and ask for his number.
xx ALi
Monday, February 14, 2011
valentines day.
I hate valentines day.
I definitely think it's because I don't have a legit valentine.
Sure, I have my girl valentines.
Which would work if I swung that way.
Unfortunately, I don't.
In case you didn't know, I like guys.
And I would like a guy valentine.
Please.
That's what I'm wishing for on my next wish.
Aw crap.
Now I told you, so it won't come true.
I take it back. I take it back. I take it back.
Name the movie.
Kthnx.
On the plus side, I looked FABULOUS on Sunday.
Whoever's reading this, will you be my valentine?
Oh, and STORY OF THE DAY [or last week]
So, last week I was sitting with some friends of mine in the MC. That's the cafeteria for those who aren't fortunate enough to attend BYU-Idaho. [hint, sarcasm] I had a cup of water, with a lid, and as I set it down, it spilled. All over the table. With 2 laptops and a phone on it. Thankfully one of the boys I was sitting with snatched my phone and the other guy snatched his laptop. I'm so glad the water didn't ruin the electronics. I was afraid I would be voted off of the island. I mean table.
XX ALi
Friday, February 11, 2011
lunch tables.
At La Reina [which I will from here on out refer to as LR], your group of friends was known as your lunch table. Hope, Alex, Daniella, Christina [with Lydia, Amanda, and Emily periodically] were the group of girls I sat with 11th and 12th grade; they were GORGEOUS. They still are. They were always there for me and will always have a special place in my heart. But anyways, they were my group of friends -- my table. Whenever the girls would talk about hanging out and having a party, we always would invite a table, because that's who they were. The group of girls who sat with each other was your table.
Now there are some table rules that you should know :
[1] Once you have your table, it's unheard of to switch.
[2] You only go to another table if your previous table votes you off the island [or all shun you]
[3] You always have your table mates back. Always.
[4] Exceptions may be made if you really don't like her and you just allow her to sit there because she has no one else. [I have been in this situation. It sucks]
[5] Always remember your table mates birthday. Always.
[6] Always bake for her/bring her flowers/make her a poster. Always.
[7] You pretty much only hang out with your table outside of school.
[8] If there is an argument occurring between table mates, be prepared to take sides.
[9] If for some reason you do switch tables, you will be the talk of the patio.
[10] Once your table has claimed their table on the Senior patio [on the first day of school] don't try to jack others tables. It will result in a war and the table who was there first will always win. Always.
For people who didn't go to LR, this probably makes about as much sense as the Health Care Bill. For those LR girls, you're going YES YES YES THIS IS SO EFFING TRUE!!
These are only a few of the many rules you had to follow. During lunch you usually sat and talked with your table for the entire 50 minute period. Now I, being the social butterfly I was, would wander from table to table during lunch to say hi and chit-chat with everyone. People loved me and welcomed me with open arms. If there was a birthday going on and my table wanted cake, they would send me to get some. Because chances are I was friends with the birthday bitch.
Now my table ladies were all exquisitely beautiful size 0s with no food issues. They would bring their container of lettuce [and the occasional olive, if they were feeling adventurous] and enjoy it. They would savor that lettuce while I drank my rice protein shakes and hated life. When there was something delicious on the cafeteria menu [like burritos] they would buy them. They would take little nibbles and put the burrito down during bites and make conversation. While they did this, I scarfed that burrito down in 4.76 minutes flat and scavenged for some more food. When I was on one of my "diets", I would look at the enchiladas and CRAVE them so badly. What I wouldn't do for an enchilada.
Every now and then, we would go out to dinner. While they ordered salads and split entrees, I ordered the fattiest thing on the menu. If we went to Cheesecake Factory, I would get the chicken quesadilla with a piece of carrot cake cheesecake for desert and eat it all. Every single last bite. I loved food.
Notice how I said "loved". My life doesn't revolve around food anymore; it is the weirdest/coolest/most awesome thing ever. I now can go out to dinner, order a chicken breast, and be satisfied. Then again, if I ordered anything with cheese or gluten I would be on the toilet for days. But really. When my roommates cook meals that I can't have, I'm fine with it. They bake sometimes and apologize for not cooking something I can eat. Then they tell me that whatever they're eating sucks [although I know for a fact it doesn't] so I won't feel bad about not being able to eat it. But guess what stalkers, I DON'T CRAVE THEM!! One of the girls made cake balls for another's birthday. They looked divine. But I had no desire to eat them. None at all. Oh, Ali, you're learning.
Now I fit in with the exquisitely beautiful girls. And it feels fabulous.
xx ALi
Now there are some table rules that you should know :
[1] Once you have your table, it's unheard of to switch.
[2] You only go to another table if your previous table votes you off the island [or all shun you]
[3] You always have your table mates back. Always.
[4] Exceptions may be made if you really don't like her and you just allow her to sit there because she has no one else. [I have been in this situation. It sucks]
[5] Always remember your table mates birthday. Always.
[6] Always bake for her/bring her flowers/make her a poster. Always.
[7] You pretty much only hang out with your table outside of school.
[8] If there is an argument occurring between table mates, be prepared to take sides.
[9] If for some reason you do switch tables, you will be the talk of the patio.
[10] Once your table has claimed their table on the Senior patio [on the first day of school] don't try to jack others tables. It will result in a war and the table who was there first will always win. Always.
For people who didn't go to LR, this probably makes about as much sense as the Health Care Bill. For those LR girls, you're going YES YES YES THIS IS SO EFFING TRUE!!
These are only a few of the many rules you had to follow. During lunch you usually sat and talked with your table for the entire 50 minute period. Now I, being the social butterfly I was, would wander from table to table during lunch to say hi and chit-chat with everyone. People loved me and welcomed me with open arms. If there was a birthday going on and my table wanted cake, they would send me to get some. Because chances are I was friends with the birthday bitch.
Now my table ladies were all exquisitely beautiful size 0s with no food issues. They would bring their container of lettuce [and the occasional olive, if they were feeling adventurous] and enjoy it. They would savor that lettuce while I drank my rice protein shakes and hated life. When there was something delicious on the cafeteria menu [like burritos] they would buy them. They would take little nibbles and put the burrito down during bites and make conversation. While they did this, I scarfed that burrito down in 4.76 minutes flat and scavenged for some more food. When I was on one of my "diets", I would look at the enchiladas and CRAVE them so badly. What I wouldn't do for an enchilada.
Every now and then, we would go out to dinner. While they ordered salads and split entrees, I ordered the fattiest thing on the menu. If we went to Cheesecake Factory, I would get the chicken quesadilla with a piece of carrot cake cheesecake for desert and eat it all. Every single last bite. I loved food.
Notice how I said "loved". My life doesn't revolve around food anymore; it is the weirdest/coolest/most awesome thing ever. I now can go out to dinner, order a chicken breast, and be satisfied. Then again, if I ordered anything with cheese or gluten I would be on the toilet for days. But really. When my roommates cook meals that I can't have, I'm fine with it. They bake sometimes and apologize for not cooking something I can eat. Then they tell me that whatever they're eating sucks [although I know for a fact it doesn't] so I won't feel bad about not being able to eat it. But guess what stalkers, I DON'T CRAVE THEM!! One of the girls made cake balls for another's birthday. They looked divine. But I had no desire to eat them. None at all. Oh, Ali, you're learning.
Now I fit in with the exquisitely beautiful girls. And it feels fabulous.
xx ALi
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
as my world is changing...
as my world is changing, i've come to realize many things.
i've come to realize that :
boys could potentially like me.
I know I'm going out on a whim, but it's definitely a possibility. A 15% possibility, as opposed to the .015% possibility it was 6 months ago. I mean, really, who wouldn't love me? I know I talked about this in the blog post below, and I pretty much bashed the male gender, BUT WHO THE HELL WOULND'T LOVE ME!?! I always have this joke that I tell people. It goes like this : Boys are easy to be friends with. Girls are hard to be friends with. Boys are hard to like. Thus, the fourth principle in this statement would be that girls are easy to like. Trust me, it's a logical argument. Sadly, I will not be batting for the other team because Grey's Anatomy has me scared for life. Yikes. But I'm definitely counting on a boy liking me sometime in the near future. *Finger Crossed* I, Ali Mahterian, could have a boy like me.
i might fit in into a bikini this summer.
Again, I know I'm totally thinking too much in the future. Currently, when I sit in the bathtub I have my permanent food baby aka MY FAT hanging out for myself to see. Exposed. Vulnerable. Naked. This summer, hopefully, I will be able to not only fit in to a bikini, but have the courage and self confidence to do so. I think it's a definite possibility. I, Ali Mahterian, will be a confident and sexy woman in my bikini this summer. Gahl, I love life
i can go shopping with my stick-thin friends.
Picture this. 5 girls shopping. 4 of these girls weigh around 120 pounds and can shop at whatever store they want and fit into anything and everything. 1 of these girls weighs just a little more, okay fine maybe 80 pounds more, and can barely fit in XXL at Target. True life situation? Yes, my blog stalkers. That was my situation. I have stick thin friends -- it's a fact that they're gorgeous and tiny. When I went shopping with them, it was awful. They'd be like "ohmygosh let's go in Hollister and I'll try on the size 00 jeans and fit in them!!!" [but let's get real -- who shops at Hollister anymore?] Over-exaggerated point proven once again. Over Christmas, I went shopping with my BFF ANnie. We went to stores and we both tried things on. I fit into normal clothes!! I fit into a Large at Forever21!!! A generic Large. I, Ali Matherian, former obese whale, fit into a generic large article of clothing. Let me just try to take it all in.
i don't have to shop at fat girl stores ever again.
Goodbye, Torrid aka Fat Girl Store. Annie & I would go shopping at the local mall and there's a Torrid that would captivate me each and every time we walked by. It would nuzzle its way into the crevice of my fat stomach and leave me feeling sick with the fact that that's the only store where I could fit in anything. Now, I am happy to announce that I can shop at Banana Republic, Urban Outfitters, JCrew, Free People, Nordstroms, and Anthro and ACTUALLY FIT IN THE CLOTHES!! My size 12 dress that I previously bought it too big. A SIZE 12 IS TOO BIG!!! It's a lot to take in. I, Ali Mahterian, will NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER shop in a fat girl store again.
the relationships with my sisters has changed immensely.
Most of you know that I don't get along with my sisters. Or should I say I didn't get along with them. Erika and I are 18 months apart, and then Erika and Julia are 22 months apart. Erika is a beautiful, thin, blonde-hair, blue-eyed beauty who is a social butterfly. Everyone loves her. She loves everyone. She played water polo and got an A in Calculus. She also has impeccable fashion sense. Julia is a 120 pound 5'5 [?] varsity soccer player with no ounce of fat on her body. She is Sophomore class president and is the creative and innovative one in our family. In Middle School she decided she wanted to make duct tape wallets and sell them. She made over $500. She also decided, on New Years Eve, that she wanted to make a skirt to wear to a church New Years Eve dance. She made one in about 2 hours. We're all very different and we kind of disagree on most everything. Ever since I've lost the weight, Erika offers to pick out outfits for me [in exchange for letting her borrow some of my fabulous clothing] and let me wear some of her accessories. She had this BEAUTIFUL necklace that I wore and loved; it was her favorite necklace. She told me to keep it. I'm still in shock. Her favorite necklace is now hanging on my necklace mannequin. I love her and am so grateful for her. I should probably tell her that more often. I, Ali Mahterian, have a good relationship with my sisters.
i can actually dress in cute clothes.
Now that I can shop at normal clothing stores, I can dress in normal clothes. As you've seen from my previous posts with my amazing outfits, I have great fashion sense. Well, sometimes. Traci Ream helps me pick them out when I have a brain fart. See, Traci, here's your credibility. I have jeans and cute sweaters and shoes and more shoes and cute shirts and I'm one hot tamale. I, Ali Mahterian, can dress in clothes.
I've come to realize that my life is awesome. Life is good, life is great, life is wonderful. If any of you just caught that movie reference, good for you. I've come to realize that what people say doesn't matter. I am me, and I am unique.
xx ALi
i've come to realize that :
boys could potentially like me.
I know I'm going out on a whim, but it's definitely a possibility. A 15% possibility, as opposed to the .015% possibility it was 6 months ago. I mean, really, who wouldn't love me? I know I talked about this in the blog post below, and I pretty much bashed the male gender, BUT WHO THE HELL WOULND'T LOVE ME!?! I always have this joke that I tell people. It goes like this : Boys are easy to be friends with. Girls are hard to be friends with. Boys are hard to like. Thus, the fourth principle in this statement would be that girls are easy to like. Trust me, it's a logical argument. Sadly, I will not be batting for the other team because Grey's Anatomy has me scared for life. Yikes. But I'm definitely counting on a boy liking me sometime in the near future. *Finger Crossed* I, Ali Mahterian, could have a boy like me.
i might fit in into a bikini this summer.
Again, I know I'm totally thinking too much in the future. Currently, when I sit in the bathtub I have my permanent food baby aka MY FAT hanging out for myself to see. Exposed. Vulnerable. Naked. This summer, hopefully, I will be able to not only fit in to a bikini, but have the courage and self confidence to do so. I think it's a definite possibility. I, Ali Mahterian, will be a confident and sexy woman in my bikini this summer. Gahl, I love life
i can go shopping with my stick-thin friends.
Picture this. 5 girls shopping. 4 of these girls weigh around 120 pounds and can shop at whatever store they want and fit into anything and everything. 1 of these girls weighs just a little more, okay fine maybe 80 pounds more, and can barely fit in XXL at Target. True life situation? Yes, my blog stalkers. That was my situation. I have stick thin friends -- it's a fact that they're gorgeous and tiny. When I went shopping with them, it was awful. They'd be like "ohmygosh let's go in Hollister and I'll try on the size 00 jeans and fit in them!!!" [but let's get real -- who shops at Hollister anymore?] Over-exaggerated point proven once again. Over Christmas, I went shopping with my BFF ANnie. We went to stores and we both tried things on. I fit into normal clothes!! I fit into a Large at Forever21!!! A generic Large. I, Ali Matherian, former obese whale, fit into a generic large article of clothing. Let me just try to take it all in.
i don't have to shop at fat girl stores ever again.
Goodbye, Torrid aka Fat Girl Store. Annie & I would go shopping at the local mall and there's a Torrid that would captivate me each and every time we walked by. It would nuzzle its way into the crevice of my fat stomach and leave me feeling sick with the fact that that's the only store where I could fit in anything. Now, I am happy to announce that I can shop at Banana Republic, Urban Outfitters, JCrew, Free People, Nordstroms, and Anthro and ACTUALLY FIT IN THE CLOTHES!! My size 12 dress that I previously bought it too big. A SIZE 12 IS TOO BIG!!! It's a lot to take in. I, Ali Mahterian, will NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER shop in a fat girl store again.
the relationships with my sisters has changed immensely.
Most of you know that I don't get along with my sisters. Or should I say I didn't get along with them. Erika and I are 18 months apart, and then Erika and Julia are 22 months apart. Erika is a beautiful, thin, blonde-hair, blue-eyed beauty who is a social butterfly. Everyone loves her. She loves everyone. She played water polo and got an A in Calculus. She also has impeccable fashion sense. Julia is a 120 pound 5'5 [?] varsity soccer player with no ounce of fat on her body. She is Sophomore class president and is the creative and innovative one in our family. In Middle School she decided she wanted to make duct tape wallets and sell them. She made over $500. She also decided, on New Years Eve, that she wanted to make a skirt to wear to a church New Years Eve dance. She made one in about 2 hours. We're all very different and we kind of disagree on most everything. Ever since I've lost the weight, Erika offers to pick out outfits for me [in exchange for letting her borrow some of my fabulous clothing] and let me wear some of her accessories. She had this BEAUTIFUL necklace that I wore and loved; it was her favorite necklace. She told me to keep it. I'm still in shock. Her favorite necklace is now hanging on my necklace mannequin. I love her and am so grateful for her. I should probably tell her that more often. I, Ali Mahterian, have a good relationship with my sisters.
i can actually dress in cute clothes.
Now that I can shop at normal clothing stores, I can dress in normal clothes. As you've seen from my previous posts with my amazing outfits, I have great fashion sense. Well, sometimes. Traci Ream helps me pick them out when I have a brain fart. See, Traci, here's your credibility. I have jeans and cute sweaters and shoes and more shoes and cute shirts and I'm one hot tamale. I, Ali Mahterian, can dress in clothes.
I've come to realize that my life is awesome. Life is good, life is great, life is wonderful. If any of you just caught that movie reference, good for you. I've come to realize that what people say doesn't matter. I am me, and I am unique.
xx ALi
boys,boys,boys
The topic of the day is [drum roll, please] boys! I definitely do not understand them AT ALL. So obvi I've lot a crap ton of weight [a ton = 2,000 pounds, so I'm exaggerating a smidgen] and still haven't been proposed to!! Not even a date!! Get this, I haven't even been asked for my number!! Gentlemen, I don't think you understand what you're missing. I'm Ali Mahterian. I have tourettes. I swear. I'm funnier than Steve Carrell in Dan In Real Life. I cook AMAZZZZING food. I'm smart. Super smart. I have impeccable fashion sense [3/7 days of the week]. I drink more water in a day then most do in a week. I think you get the point.... But really, I'm awesome.
Boys. I've been thinking a lot about them lately and have come up with some realizations / thoughts / suggestions / critiques.
THOUGHTS
[1] Take me back to the days of La Reina where I don't go to school with/humor/impress boys. I hate waking up at the crack of dawn, I mean 9:45, and having to pick out an outfit to impress that cute boy in my class. I hate having to see him everyday and try to start a conversation/make a witty comment/say something humorously sarcastic. I think you get the picture.
CRITIQUES/SUGGESTIONS
[1] If you're not into a girl, don't flirt with her!!! It will save you the embarrassment and her the heartbreak.
[2] If you're into a girl, make it obvious!!! Don't treat her like your other lady friends.
[3] Don't play hard to get. Just don't.
REALIZATIONS
[1] Before, when I was an obese whale, I thought that guys would fall in love with my personality. Boy, was I wrong [get it, that was a pun]. After observing and people watching at BYU-I-DO [and throwing out over half my data due to the Utard factor] I have come to the realization that guys would pick beauty over brains. That absolutely disgusts me. You're saying that you'd pick a beautiful blonde who doesn't know the quadratic equation over an average looking female who can make you laugh for hours? Okay, a bit dramatic. But point proven.
[2] If a boy liked me, he'd ask for my number!! He'd write on my facebook. He'd make an effort to talk to me.
Boy are stupid. I think I'm going to become a lesbian.
xx A
Boys. I've been thinking a lot about them lately and have come up with some realizations / thoughts / suggestions / critiques.
THOUGHTS
[1] Take me back to the days of La Reina where I don't go to school with/humor/impress boys. I hate waking up at the crack of dawn, I mean 9:45, and having to pick out an outfit to impress that cute boy in my class. I hate having to see him everyday and try to start a conversation/make a witty comment/say something humorously sarcastic. I think you get the picture.
CRITIQUES/SUGGESTIONS
[1] If you're not into a girl, don't flirt with her!!! It will save you the embarrassment and her the heartbreak.
[2] If you're into a girl, make it obvious!!! Don't treat her like your other lady friends.
[3] Don't play hard to get. Just don't.
REALIZATIONS
[1] Before, when I was an obese whale, I thought that guys would fall in love with my personality. Boy, was I wrong [get it, that was a pun]. After observing and people watching at BYU-I-DO [and throwing out over half my data due to the Utard factor] I have come to the realization that guys would pick beauty over brains. That absolutely disgusts me. You're saying that you'd pick a beautiful blonde who doesn't know the quadratic equation over an average looking female who can make you laugh for hours? Okay, a bit dramatic. But point proven.
[2] If a boy liked me, he'd ask for my number!! He'd write on my facebook. He'd make an effort to talk to me.
Boy are stupid. I think I'm going to become a lesbian.
xx A
Friday, February 4, 2011
suzy & robert
For those of you who don't know my parents, get to know them. I'm obsessed with them. [I've been using obsessed a lot. Guess I'm obsessed with obsessed.] They are the most selfless, generous, and amazing people out there. Words can't describe how much I love them. When I was younger I would watch their wedding video and marvel at 1] how my mom and I were identical as toddlers & 2] their unconditional love for each other.
Their story is one I never get tired of hearing. & it goes like this [to my knowledge]
S was an intern at the UCLA medical center. R was an artchitect who helped design medical centers. S worked as a psychiatric nurse and AIDS researcher in her former life. She was a jew. R was a tall dark and handsome graduate from Berkley who met S while at UCLA. S thought R was a nice jewish boy when they met. S & R became great friends and then R decided to go on a mission. While R was on the mission, S wrote him. They wrote back and forth like great friends do. S's grandpa, whom she was very close with, passed away. She was very sad and asked R what happened to people after they died. R suggested S go talk to the missionaries. She did. When R came back from Italy, they were inseparable. They were just best friends and loved hanging out. Everyone asked them if they were dating and they laughed and said they were just BFF. On December 29, 1989, S took R out to dinner for his 28th birthday. They were just chit-chatting and then the conversation stopped. S asked "anything else?" and R said "marry me". The following May [in 1990], they were married in my grandparents backyard by a Rabbi & a Bishop. S was baptized somewhere in that time period. A arrived in November of 1991, and they were sealed as a family, for time and all eternity, in the Los Angeles temple. E came along 18 months after A, and J 22 months after E. S worked until A was 5, and then retired and decided to focus on raising her 3 girlies and being the best mother possible. She succeeded. R worked at UCLA full-time and decided he wanted to start his own business closer to his family. He did. R & S have been married for almost 21 years. They accept each other for their flaws, laugh at each others quirks, and are the epitome of what I want my future to look like.
This just goes to show that you marry your best friend. S, I know you're reading this. I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart. We've become even closer while I've been away at college, and I'm so happy we have a fantastic relationship. I'm sorry I call you so much, I just miss you & love hearing your voice [and C barking in the background]. R, I love you too. You are so hard working and selfless. You married the best of the best. R & S, I love you more that words can describe. This post doesn't do either of you justice.
Their story is one I never get tired of hearing. & it goes like this [to my knowledge]
S was an intern at the UCLA medical center. R was an artchitect who helped design medical centers. S worked as a psychiatric nurse and AIDS researcher in her former life. She was a jew. R was a tall dark and handsome graduate from Berkley who met S while at UCLA. S thought R was a nice jewish boy when they met. S & R became great friends and then R decided to go on a mission. While R was on the mission, S wrote him. They wrote back and forth like great friends do. S's grandpa, whom she was very close with, passed away. She was very sad and asked R what happened to people after they died. R suggested S go talk to the missionaries. She did. When R came back from Italy, they were inseparable. They were just best friends and loved hanging out. Everyone asked them if they were dating and they laughed and said they were just BFF. On December 29, 1989, S took R out to dinner for his 28th birthday. They were just chit-chatting and then the conversation stopped. S asked "anything else?" and R said "marry me". The following May [in 1990], they were married in my grandparents backyard by a Rabbi & a Bishop. S was baptized somewhere in that time period. A arrived in November of 1991, and they were sealed as a family, for time and all eternity, in the Los Angeles temple. E came along 18 months after A, and J 22 months after E. S worked until A was 5, and then retired and decided to focus on raising her 3 girlies and being the best mother possible. She succeeded. R worked at UCLA full-time and decided he wanted to start his own business closer to his family. He did. R & S have been married for almost 21 years. They accept each other for their flaws, laugh at each others quirks, and are the epitome of what I want my future to look like.
This just goes to show that you marry your best friend. S, I know you're reading this. I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart. We've become even closer while I've been away at college, and I'm so happy we have a fantastic relationship. I'm sorry I call you so much, I just miss you & love hearing your voice [and C barking in the background]. R, I love you too. You are so hard working and selfless. You married the best of the best. R & S, I love you more that words can describe. This post doesn't do either of you justice.
J
E
S
xx A
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
accounting, being lean, & everything in between.
today..
-- when I went outside, it was -21 degrees.
-- i got an 84% on my accounting test.
-- i received my first blog shout out. if i knew how to return the favor, i would do it in a heartbeat. shout out to cassaundra hull and her ability to make me smile in -21 degree weather.
-- i got an 84% on my accounting test.
-- one of my oldest friends [meaning we've been friends for a long time] got his mission call. stockholm, sweden. dang.
-- i got an 84% on my accounting test.
-- my ethics class was PHENOMENAL.
-- i got an 84% on my accounting test.
-- i ate jimmy john's for dinner and it was marvelous.
-- i got an 84% on my accounting test.
-- i wore my camp twitch & shout t-shirt. i received a lot of compliments.
-- i got an 84% on my accounting test.
-- i confirmed the realization that my life is fantastic.
-- oh, and i got an 84% on my accounting test.
STORY OF THE DAY:
kim turley is awesome & likes whipped cream a lot. she cold eat it all day, ereday if she wanted to.
"sometimes, you have to forget what you want to remember what you deserve."
on an EXTREMELY hilarious ending note, my mom and i were discussing how awful the weather in rexburg is. this is the text i received in the middle of accounting. "I hate the mormons! they make us suffer! let's be jewish! they wouldn't build a school in the freezing tundra. miami? xoxo"
moral of the story, my mom is hilarious and i'm obsessed with her. and she was semi joking.
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