Who Even Forks Yards Anyways?

Time to confess, y’all: I do. I fork yards. 

Once upon a time, my family woke up to our front yard stabbed with hundreds (I may be exaggerating here) of little, plastic forks. As my brother and I pulled them out that day, I continuously broke into laughter at the image of someone sneakily shoving forks into the dirt repeatedly, and there vowed to become a forker ever since. 

 Finally, on the eve of my 19^th birthday, the stars aligned. 

 At midnight one of my best friends turned to me and said, “I’m feeling strangely awake!” She is one of those people who went to sleep at 11:00 during her freshman year at college. Over Christmas break, I was forced to throw ice cubes at her to prod her into staying up past 1. Her exclamation got me so excited that I proposed pranking someone, and hurriedly roused my other best friend who had passed out on a couch during a movie. As we discussed the possibilities, my excitement at finally reaching my goal became manic, and soon we were out the door with two boxes of assorted cutlery, a plate of peeps ripped off of my birthday cake, a flash light, and a bug spray fan clipped onto the waist of my oh so attractive matching purple cloud jammies. 

 Roomies—picture St. Patrick’s day times 3. 

The whole drive down to our unsuspecting victim (a lovely woman who is a “kindred spirit" as Anne of Green Gables would say) my 11:00 bedtime best friend was panicking, driving far below the speed limit, while me and my now fully alert and hyper amiga were in hysterics.

On reaching the destination, the whole situation got real.

The idea that someone would catch us clutching eating utensils and frosting covered peeps in our pajamas terrified us. We plotted, and decided that I would fork and my hyper amiga would throw the peeps while my 11:00 bedtime friend acted as look out and our escape ride.

Forking proved to be more difficult than I imagined. In the pitch black, I had grabbed two handfuls of mixed cutlery, and not many were forks. There is a reason it’s called forking: the fork stabs easier into the ground. And frankly spooning and knifing a yard just sound wrong and violent

After a brief scare, we decided to cut our prank short due to further paranoia and lack of supplies. We drove away a little less exhilarated, definitely more embarrassed, and very self-conscious about the poor pranking job done. 

 The next day I logged into Facebook, blushed, then preceded to laugh for hours. The son of the woman we pranked (also a friend) had posted an outraged and rather colorful response to our late night activities, complete with a picture (not shown).

           Edited for language it read: 

 Some dumb-bleep attempted to fork my yard. Lemme tell you why you did the bleepist forking job I've ever seen in my life.
1. There were maybe 30 plastic utensils in my yard, you're supposed to do the whole yard bleepnut.
2. You didnt just use forks, you used spoons and knives too. You didn't even bother sticking them in the ground either.
3. There were about 7 peeps in my yard. What was the purpose of that?!
4. You tried to fork a yard. What is this, 1999?

It took less than 3 minutes to clean this up, I hope you feel like a jack-bleep because you are.

 Thirty-Six people liked his post, and many people commented—all people I am acquainted with. I see the author of the post at least once a week at work, and have plans to get together with his mother later this summer. I plan on never telling them.

 Hopefully they don’t read this blog.

                                              The Moral(s) of the Story

 -For a prank to be sufficiently humorous—there is no middle ground. Either it has to be fantastic or embarrassingly horrible. 

 -Wear appropriate sneaky gear. Not your bright purple cloud pjs and little brother’s church shoes. 

 -Fulfilling one’s vows, while potentially mortifying, is incredibly self-gratifying.

 -Everyone needs best friends like mine: One to flow right alongside your crazy, and another to hang onto sanity and stop you from making too much of a fool of yourself. 

 -ANNALEE

Public (Fashion) Offender

One of the first (and best) purchases I've made since I moved out of Tingey Hall was a muumuu.  For those summer days when it's hot and you've just gotten home from work, and you have no desire whatsoever to wear work clothes, a muumuu is like heaven.  It's soft, it's airy, and it's got pockets. Not to mention, they come in some of the ugliest prints ever imagined.  Really what more could you ask for?

I wear my muumuu almost every day, but I do have limits:

1.  Never answer the door or stand too close to windows while wearing your muumuu

2.  Never EVER go out in public while wearing your muumuu

One particularly rough day, I was wearing my muumuu and was in desperate need of a Glacier, an ice cream cone-shaved ice hybrid, served at one of my hometown's most infamous restaurants, Taco Amigo.  I swear almost all of my high school has worked there at one point, and it is always crowded.  Lucky for me and my muumuu, the good old Taco Amigo has a drive-thru.  I grabbed a few dollars, hopped in my car, and headed out to get a Glacier.  I figured since I was going to be sitting down in my car with my seatbelt firmly across my body, I wasn't breaking any of the muumuu rules.  

So I went to the drive-thru, waited my turn in line (since it's always crowded), ordered a tiger's blood Glacier, and headed to the window to pay.  The total was $2 and some change, so I handed the girl working the window (who I knew from high school) my $2.  As I go to hand her my remaining balance, the change slips through her fingers onto the ground right outside my car and her window.  Oh shoot. I'm thinking.  I've got to grab this change, but there is a long line of people I probably know behind me, a cute girl from high school working the window (along with a few other people I recognized from school), and I'm wearing my muumuu.  I opened my car door and tried to reach for the change, but it was just barely out of reach.  In my mind I assumed I had no choice but to break rule number two:  I had to get completely out of my car, almost shut my door, grab the change, hand it to the girl safely in the window, and hop back in the car as fast as physically possible to reduce the amount of people that would see me in this hideous but-oh-so-light-and-airy sack on my body.  I proceeded to unbuckle my seatbelt and follow the remaining steps.  After a little trouble picking the change up from the ground, I leaped back into my car, grabbed my Glacier, and sped away.  The time between unbuckling the belt and rebuckling felt like an eternity: I am sure half the general public saw my lovely muumuu.  

Looking back on the situation, I realize I could have just grabbed another quarter and handed that to the girl, but hey, when your natural tendency is to be in an awkward situation, your brain's innate response is to shut off the common sense switch.  

Overall though, I recommend everyone buy a muumuu. Just don't break the rules.

Happy Summer, y'all.

--Sadie

I Now Pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Sassa-Frass

As the year came to a close, goodbyes were being said to our friends and our favorite people.  As I was walking home from work on Wednesday, I ran into the twins (a.k.a. Alex- Julie's boy, and Blake) packing up their truck to head out.  The twins were some of our very first friends here, so I wanted to say my last goodbyes for two years.  Blake gives me a hug, we tell each other good luck on our missions, etc. (this part was a little uncomfortable due to our interesting past...) Alex gave me a big hug and in an almost-whispering tone says to me "We've become really good friends this semester."  This was true, but super cheesy, so I replied with a sassy "yep."  He then proceeds to call me "Mrs. Sassa-frass!", all before letting me out of a hug.  My first instinct was to call him a name back, but after a long week of finals, all I could think of was Mr. Sassa-frass... Since Julie had just broken his heart (BTW, welcome to the club, Julie!) , and I had no interest in him, and it would have been extremely uncomfortable since we were standing next to Blake, whose heart I had broken, I had absolutely no interest in calling him the Mr. to my Mrs. The name almost blurted out of my mouth though, and in order to stop myself, my face naturally scrunched up and I did this weird breath in.  We stood there for a few seconds while I thought of a proper comeback, but all I could think of was "Eh, it's all relative..." Then all three of us did a really depressing giggle.
In all honesty, I'm pretty proud of myself for restraining my mouth.  This story would have been a lot different had I not... Hahaha.
Also, goodbyes are the worst.

--Sadie

Ebony and Ivory

So at work I just started watching these live zoo web cams, and my favorite are the Panda bears, who I have affectionatley named Ebony and Ivory. (They are living in perfect harmony by the way). As I was watching these adorable bears I started to feel very relaxed, and I thought about how nice it would be to fall asleep watching them on my computer. And then I almost laughed out loud because this made me think of my lovely roommate Lizzy, who would fall asleep with her boy Toby on skype almost every night of this last semester. Lizzy has Toby, and I have a panda bear....=)

Also, as I was watching these same Panda bears, I was listening to Michael Buble, and the song he sings called 'Feeling Good' came on, and suddenly the Panda was strutting around in time with the song. It was the weirdest thing...Ebony looked like he was singing and dancing!! He was Michael..the panda version of him. And then his song called 'Home' came on and the Panda sat on the ground and stared out through the fence for the longest
time...I almost cried. He just wants to be free! =(
#pandaproblems













-Cass

The Hunger Games

So finals week kind of pushes me over the edge. I get super stressed, like most people probably do, and this makes me a little crazy. So today I was studying in a building on campus and I had forgotten my lunch, so I was super hungry. The table I was sitting at had some vending machines next to it and as I'm sitting there, here comes this vending employee girl wheeling in three huge boxes to restock the machines. As she is unlocking the vending machine I simultaneously observe that I am hungry, that I have no money, and that this girl is as thin as a twig. I suddenly found myself looking back and forth between her and her boxes of vending machine goods and thinking, "Yeah, yeah, I could do it, I could take her."

What is wrong with me???! (don't answer that). Finals need to end and soon!

-Cass

Do the creep

I have a boy.
A cute hot wonderful sweetheart boy.
He's tall (6'4!) and he played soccer for six years and he long boards and he's European. NEEDLESS to say, I'm infatuated. *sigh sigh sigh*

But

Our relationship is long distance. 

Last night, who we call "our boys" consisting of Will, Jacob, and Evan, came over for some fun Ryan Lochte television. He's dubbed the sexiest douche bag or something. And my boy, Tobi, asked me if I wanted to Skype and we hadn't Skyped in a few days and when we Skype we fall asleep together.

Well, anyways he was on his way to a lovely night of slumber :)

and I was sitting there talking to him.


And Will and Jacob starting exclaiming, screaming, proclaiming, and shouting about how I was creepy and how my relationship with Tobi was unhealthy because we talk until we fall asleep and leave our Skypes up to wake up in the morning to each other. <3 <3 <3

:'(
So I'm sorry that my relationship is creepy and unhealthy, boys.
I love you all too. Ha. Just kidding.

Evan made it clear we are just friends. 

But get this.
Will and Jacob said that they could never be friends with me. Because they are subliminally and subconsciously going to fall in love with me. 

It's okay though. I would fall in love with me too. 

:) <3 

Elizabeth Gunn

Oh What a Beautiful Morning

                As Friday was my last day as a Janitor and class is officially over, I excitedly stayed up till 4 in the morning last night and set my alarm clock for 12 pm with glee. I anticipated waking up to the sun’s rays streaming in from my window and Lizzy’s happy music as she packed and cleaned. Instead, I woke up to the sarcastic tones of the boy’s RA, declaring, “I’m going to break honor code and come in your room to inspect it.” Instantaneously, I pictured the my half of the floor, with all my clothes and various unmentionables strewn about. Looking quite like this, I’m ashamed to say: 

                Then I realized I was bra-less.

                Resignedly, I pulled my covers over my head, and prepared for the onslaught of awkward rapidly approaching. To my relief, I soon heard the RA say, choking back what I assume was laughter at the sight of my reaction, “Or…I will check the bathroom first.” 

                Jumping out of bed, I shut the door and then proceeded to gather my clothes in an even larger pile, effectively hiding all unmentionables, shouting every thirty seconds, “give me like a minute and then we’ll be good!” Once accomplishing the feat, I began to fix my current state of undress and heard the RA getting ready to enter. Utter fear of him coming in while I was still getting dressed caused me to shriek back, “Un momento!” 

                I heard Lizzy offer apologetically, “She’s just woke up.” Finishing quickly, I opened the door, winced at my reflection in the hall mirror, and walked into our kitchen, forcing a smile to greet the RA.

                Ironically, my alarm went off as soon as I began eating breakfast, surprising the RA who sat on our couch. 

               Oh how I wish I would’ve woken up earlier.

Moral(s) of The Story

-Laziness comes with a price. 

-A messy room essentially acts as a public display of everything.

-Hiding as a lump and faking unconsciousness, metaphorically and literally, is not an effective way of dealing with uncomfortable moments. 

-ANNALEE

What Would Sadie Do?/ JE-AH!

There comes a point in every human being's life when the filter between the brain and the mouth shuts off.  For me, this generally happens every night around 10 p.m.  With the addition of finals this week, not only has the filter stopped working at earlier times, but the thoughts that need to be filtered are becoming odder and odder.  Last night, we had our boys over for one last hoorah to watch "What Would Ryan Lochte Do" (which was terribly disappointing by the way, I do not recommend it). The boys decided that whenever anyone tells a lame story, instead of saying the typical "...and you found five dollars" at the end, it's best to say "...and then you made out" at the end.  Somehow this developed into Jacob shouting the latter not just at the end, but in the middle of any story, phrase, or awkward silence.
Cassidy, Evan, and I have "Support Group" every Tuesday night where we talk about how Cassidy and Evan are picked on by their roommates and I pick on my roommates.  Usually this turns into hysterical laughing about who-knows-what for a couple of hours.  We have one last Tuesday where all three of us will be here, and so we are obligated to attend one last Support Group session.  I tell Evan this at about 11 p.m. last night, and he replies that he has finals and can't do it at the typical time.  I have Temple Prep lessons at that same time as well, so I reply, "Oh that's fine, cause I can't do it then either.  I can do it late at night though..." Jacob then interjects with a "...and then you made out".  Filter off + broken brain = me proceeding to say, "I don't know... Evan???" Everyone bursted out laughing.  Evan's face froze in an awkward-Shia-Lebouf kind of way.

Apparently though, Evan quite didn't understand what was going on, because his roommates had to explain to him the context of what had just blurted out of my mouth.  His face turned bright red, and shifted from awkward-Shia-Lebouf to a I-can't-believe-that-just-happened-Ryan-Gosling.

After about five seconds, my brain finally clicked back in, and I realized that I had just offered Evan, my good friend, Elders Quorum President, and the man with good genes (roommates, please laugh at this inside joke) a NCMO.  I started yelling phrases like, "That was a joke!"  "I really didn't mean it!" "That came out of my mouth really wrong".  Luckily everyone was under the impression that it was a joke, and things went back to normal.  

What makes this story even better is that on one of my dates with Evan, we took a group picture.  Due to some weird optical illusion things, it looks like Evan's hand is kinda low on my waist.  In addition to that, Annalee discovered that if you crop the picture just right, it looks like an we're-engaged-! photo of Evan and I (it really doesn't help that were wearing coordinating colors). 

 I've been receiving crap about Evan and I as a couple ever since then.  Since my roommates knew of this, and a few other factors, they were close to rolling on the ground laughing when I accidentally suggested a make-out session with him.  Cassidy was laughing so hard she was clinging to my shoulder; I thought she was going to knock me down.  

I guess the moral of the story (as Annalee would say), NEVER TALK TO ANYBODY DURING FINALS WEEK.

--Sadie

So I am in love with Captain Jean Luc Picard from Star Trek the Next Generation. Yes, he is bald, yes his head is shaped like an egg. But his character is manly, brave AND poetic. And yes, I also will admit that I am attracted to the 1990 version of the actor. Try to explain this to my roommates...and they think I am attracted to old men. Uh....hahahaha no. I am not attracted to old men, thank you very much, just to one slightly aged older man.
So, keeping this in mind, I got an email today....from Patrick Stewart!!! No, just kidding. You know how you sometimes get those emails from match.com promising to find you a sweetheart? Well I used to get those. Now I get emails from SeniorPeopleMeet.com....SENIORPEOPLEMEET.com!!! And the subject was  <3 See 50+ Singles in your area <3. With the exception of Patrick Stewart and Johnny Depp, I am not attracted to old people!!! End of story...not mine, just theirs, cause they are old, just kidding, that's horrible. The End.

-Cass

Pants on the Ground, Pants on the Ground

Two weeks ago, Julie (sort of) met a boy, started dating him two days later, and now he practically lives in our apartment.  Basically it's a good thing that we like Alex.
Today, I came home from a stressful day of work, and after kicking off my red high heels by the door, I grabbed my stretchy pants.   Living in a house full of girls, you get used to doing certain girly things, such as changing into your stretchy pants with the door open.  Since I am still not accustomed to having a boy in the apartment frequently, and since Julie and Alex were out of the house, I dropped my pants with the door wide open.  With my stretchy pants half-way up my thighs, I decided that maybe I should shut my door.  I shuffled over to my doorway and attempted to push the door shut, but having kicked off my kicks in that area, the door got jammed by them and wouldn't even close half way.  So I gave up, and started to pull the rest of my pants up. When my pants were pulled 5/6 of the way up in the front and 3/4 of the way in the back (my booty was not exactly what you would call "covered" by pants), I glanced up, only to see Alex walking past my doorway:"Oh, hey Sa---AH!" *Cue Alex's quick glance away and awkward smirk on his face*  *Cue Sadie's blank stare and blushing* My mind went blank for about 3.2 seconds.  Julie's boyfriend had just seen me in the process of pulling up my pants right in my open doorway.  I realized then I was so far into the doorway that I was practically changing in the hallway.  I quickly finished pulling up my pants as he ran into the kitchen. Grabbing my shoes, I heard Alex's voice from the kitchen: "That could have been really awkward Sadie..." In my mind I was thinking "That was really awkward, Alex...."  I slammed the door shut and made sure my pants were all the way up (which, by the way, they were not).  After gaining my composure, I opened my door to face Julie and Alex in the kitchen.
Julie: "What happened?"
Alex: "Sadie was pulling up her pants when I walked in.... I guess I should announce my entrance in the future?"
Me:"He didn't see anything!"(I hope.)
*Cue awkward silence*
Alex: "So..... Sadie you excited for you mission call....?"
Thanks, Alex, for quickly and awkwardly changing the subject from how you (kind of?) walked in on me....
Cassidy once proposed set times in which Alex can visit, and I now think I agree... at least there's only a week left.

--Sadie

Love at Home (teaching)

This Sunday it was my turn to teach Relief Society, the third hour of our church, where only the women attend.  My lesson was based on upholding BYU's Honor Code even while not attending BYU.  A huge section of the Honor Code includes the Law of Chastity, so naturally I felt obligated to make Relief Society as awkward as possible and talk about making love, or really, the lack thereof.  But luckily, the lesson went well.
After Church, Lizzy's home teacher came over, and was asking her about General Conference (which was last weekend).  He asked her if she thought there was a theme from this Conference.  Lizzy says, "Well, Sadie pointed out in Relief Society today that Conference was all about chastity."  Of course Home Teacher gives me an odd look.  I just started giggling, and tried to explain myself a little bit. "That was Saturday's theme.... Sunday was obedience...um... I taught Relief Society... about chastity... okay...cool."  Lizzy and Annalee speak up, "Sadie did a fabulous job teaching about the Law of Chastity today, actually.  She didn't make it super awkward."  Home Teacher: "Oh really?"  Lizzy: "Yeah, she told CRAZY personal stories about the Law of Chastity." Immediately I start laughing.  Home Teacher's head whips in my direction, shooting me the weirdest look of all, which was sort of a mix between a Kristen Wiig and a Ron Weasley, except with a little more skepticism and laughter.

In my hysterical laughing, I mindlessly told him, "it's really a story you don't want to hear..." followed by a "Let's just leave it at that..."  Realizing what I'd just done, I ran out of the kitchen and hid in my room for the remainder of Home Teacher's visit.  

In my defense, the story I told in Relief Society actually had to do with my VL status... so it's a little opposite end of the spectrum...

--Sadie

Daily Dialogue

"It was like, the perfect moment.  We had just talked a little about marriage, and I like just started singing "I'll make love to you, like you want me to." Well, not really.  But I told her basically that I'll do it in the most sensual, sacred, beautiful way.  That's appropriate of course...."
           Thank you sir, for talking openly about the love life you will have after
           marriage.  On the bright side, at least you are planning on waiting till after marriage.

"Dude, I shaved my legs last night, and it feels so nice! Except they're like already prickly, and it's only been like 14 hours."
"Man, girls have to go through that like all the time."
"I don't know how they can handle it.  But seriously, it feels so good in jeans."
         
I think it's safe to say that I worry for the sanity of these people.  Although, if any one of the people above heard half the conversations that go on in our apartment, they would be seriously concerned.... (if you don't understand what I mean, please click on the quotes tab above.)

--Sadie


P.S. BYU was ranked #1 for smartest and hottest in the country.  I think 2210 had a big influence on that stat.  Booya.

The Small Elephant in The Room

My Spanish conversation lab usually consists of no more than five people for an hour. It’s always a bit awkward as 30% of the time we don’t catch what our teacher is saying or asking us, and we all speak haltingly, nervously, and quietly. When a new person comes to the lab, it’s very apparent and slightly exciting. 

So today I waltz into the classroom, and do a double take.

There was a new boy.

With glasses, and tousled blonde hair. 

In my SPANISH conversation lab. 

You got to understand. As an English major, I’ve discovered this rather unfortunate, but not unexpected, phenomenon in my classes: NO MALES. And if there are males, they are married, or a little too hipster, or old.

A little too Hipster

Because of this, whenever an attractive man happens to be in one of my classes, Aragon’s speech in LOTR Return of the King echoes back to me: “Hold your ground…a day may come when there are no boys at all in your class or when they are all married but it is not this day! Today we fight!”

I boldly took a seat near him, and got partnered up with him for all the speaking activities. Things were going successfully until we flowed into a normal conversation about high school. Cleverly, I asked “Cuando saliste de escuela secondario?” (when did you graduate) as a casual attempt to gage his age. 

“2008, y tu?” 

Sheepishly, feeling very much like a little freshman, I replied “el ano pasado” which surprised him.

“2012?” He asked, I nodded, and then he continued, “So tienes diecinueve anos?” (You are 19?)

Regretfully, I corrected him, “Dieciocho,” then speaking faster, “pero mi cumplianos es en Mayo!” (18, but my birthday is in may!) He nodded, then proceeded to simultaneously smile and kill the excitement and hope fluttering around in my chest, “That’s quite a grande age gap between us,”  

After that, things just got worse. 

At one point, we were supposed to create a story, or tell each other stories using these strange phrases of sentences on the board. I had no idea what was going on, as my teacher talked very quickly, but needed to talk, and so I desperately picked a line and went with it. 

“Hay un hombre extrano a mi puerta……y el dame un elefante pequena,” (There was a strange man at my door, and he gave me a small elephant). 

The guy frowned in puzzlement, and asked “un elefante?” and in reply, I muttered “Si, pequena”. 

Then we sat there, silent. 

What was supposed to be a conversation opener, successfully transformed into a conversation ender, all in the form of a small elephant.

                                                         Moral(s) of the Story  

         

Sleep deprivation + a foreign language x the presence of an attractive male= Word Vomit.

Being Age Zoned sucks the fun out of everything. 

-ANNALEE