Ho Hum

So, I'm writing this more for the sake of posting than for actually having something to post. It really does take a lot of work to come up with a post that I think will be entertaining, and then to get in just the right mood to make it good. (Insert definition of good here.) So, I'm just posting what's on my mind and deciding not to care if anyone cares or not.

I think there's a post on here somewhere about how summer never lives up to the hype. I still agree with that post. For me, summer is a) wondering if any of your friends even care if you still exist, b) wondering if your friends still exist to wonder if you still exist, and, c) whether or not they're ever going to call you and ask if you would like to confirm both of your mutual existence by doing something together. So, it's either that, or doing nothing all day but reading/cleaning. And spending all your time with the nagging realization that all of the "wasted" time you spend reading/cleaning could be spent writing the essay that you know will end up being written at the last possible moment regardless of the three months you've had to suck it up and gitterdun.

Did you know that it's impossible to get anything done with perpetually chocolate milk-strawberry-goldfish-wanting kids interrupting you every minute- and- a- half and singing the Veggie Tales theme song in the background? You probably did.

I saw the Avett Brothers again last night. They were 10 times better than the first show, minus the meeting them part. I get such a feeling of... nostalgia, I guess (oddly enough) when I think about them. What right do a couple of guys from North Carolina have to go poking around in my head and messing with all my thoughts? What right do they have to be the origin of those thoughts? I hate that. I love that.

Did you know that my fourth-year hike for Girl's Camp is on Monday? Despite my notorious (or is it?) hatred for hiking, I'm actually excited. I get to spend a week in the wilderness with one of the coolest people I know as my tent partner! I actually have friends in my stake! Do I sound pathetic or what? (Please don't answer that.)

Did you know that I made the Color Guard? Did you know that I've missed every 4-hour practice they've had so far? And that, thanks to beloved Girl's Camp, I'm missing a week of the band camp that was supposed to help me get back on track? It's enough to make a person want to quit. But I'm tired of being a quitter. It gets old after a while.

I should be writing my talk for church tomorrow. I really have been completely un-inspired for it so far.

You know what? I'm sorry, you guys. You shouldn't have to put up with more than 4 paragraphs of useless monologuing. I expect more from myself than mindlessly babbling about trivial crap.

Oh, gosh, I just had the sad realization that that's a great description for this entire blog: "myself mindlessly babbling about trivial crap."

Now I'm depressed.

But don't hate me because now it seems like I'm putting myself down just to get you to tell me that my blog isn't annoying or trivial. I'm not digging for compliments here.

Now i sound like someone who regularly engages in compliment-digging.

What kind of a sick person writes about doing/does that?

Is said sick person actually just doing that right now?

I need to stop writing before I hurt myself.

Love always/as long as I'm still sane [but even then I guess I'd still love all of you (pshaw. All 3 of you) Oh crap I'm doing it again.]

Remind me never to write again unless I have a solid idea,

Alyssa

Finding My Passion: Step 1

Well, a couple days into summer vacation I have come to a conclusion: summer vacation sucks. It's been 3 days and I'm already bored out of my mind. As many people are driven to do when they have virtually nothing else to do, I was doing some soul-searching. I realize that this is a dangerous activity to engage in, but I feel that I have no other choice. It was either I googled "How to find your passion," or, "How to make cheese." For the sake of my family's health and the rest of our milk supply, I went with the first option. Plus, I didn't want to have to build my own cheese press.
Anyways, I clicked on an article that came up in my web search and started the first of the several steps listed: Think of what you're good at and start a list of potential candidates for your passion.
Here's what I wrote:

What Am I Good At?
editing
helping people
listening
self-analysis
writing
cooking/baking
shoving stuff in drawers
being "interested"
teaching
eating
spelling
picking zits
web-surfing (not really)
making people feel comfortable
being informal
making up excuses
reading
being shy/awkward
brushing my teeth
being a good student
being a good citizen
not caring if it's perfect (most of the time)
making a room look "lived-in"
buying t-shirts
self-sacrificing (for the most part)
just "screwing it"
coloring
not laughing at people who talk to themselves
talking to myself
arguing with myself
British accent
Jersey accent
Southern accent
thinking of things I'm good at
handwriting
doodling
creative thinking
hating math
wanting to improve myself
nicknames
singing
remembering lyrics
making inside jokes
impulse-buying
cutting olives
imagining
doing crunches
making lists
hating Elen
feeling bad for hating Elen
strongly disliking Elen
setting goals (not necessarily accomplishing them)
being selfish
hating myself
liking myself
doing my eyeshadow
wasting time
being needy
being independent
picking my battles (most of the time)
asking stupid questions
annoying my mother
making Christian angry

If you made it to the end of this list without skimming, I sincerely congratulate you.
Tune in next time for Step 2: What excites you?
As always, thanks for reading/caring!

What Do You Think?

So, we're back to this again y'all. I'm tired of my hair and lately I have had the urge to just chop it all the heck off. So, I came up with 2 looks that I love, and I wanted to get everyone's opinion, if you'd be so kind.


Look 1:



I was thinking a sort of combination of these two would be cute, but I also think just the first is adorable. Thoughts?


Look 2:



I love the style of the first picture and would prefer the length of the second picture. This look is cute and it involves new bangs from the ones I have now, whereas the other one has pretty much the same bangs.

So, anyways, that's what trivial crap has been on my mind lately. Please let me know what you guys think!

Staring, a.k.a. Creeping

Now, I'm going to tune in to my inner yoga instructor and paint a picture for you. First, I need y'all to close yours eyes, and breathe deeply. In.... Out.... In.... Out....
Okay, picture this:
You are walking through Costco on a Saturday at around 1:00 in the afternoon. Every pants-in-the-family-wearing mom is there with her puppy-dog-eyed husband (and when I say puppy dog, I really mean basset hound), every Grandma is moving as slow as humanly possible down the middle of the aisle, making it completely impossible to pass her (they're tricksy little hobbitses, those grandmas), and every dyed-blond, 40-something, has-been cheerleader is there with her A-game in tow. Now imagine your thoughts upon walking into this mad house. They might be something along these lines:
"Okay, not an ideal day at Costco, but nothing I can't handle." In which case, good for you.
"I guess I can't expect anything less from Costco at one o'clock on a Saturday."
"Mmmm, pizza...."
"Holy crap! What the heck would possess this many people to show up here at once?!"
Or, if you're smart, "I'm getting the heck out of this mad house, my shopping can wait 'till Monday."
However, if you're me, you're thoughts would be something along the lines of, "Why in the name of Mary Todd Lincoln are all these people staring at me?"
That's right, the good ol' woman-I've-just-met-at-Costco stare-down. One of many things in the world guaranteed to make your skin crawl and your palms sweat.
I just don't get the Costco stare-down. What's the point, people? Not that we all can't appreciate some woman we've never met staring expressionlessly at us for more than the socially acceptable one and a half seconds. Believe me, I appreciate it all right; appreciate how unnerving and weird it is. Because, according to my rule book, if you're going to stare at someone for longer than one and a half seconds, then you have to smile at them. That way, they just smile back and think "Oh, what a nice person," instead of when you don't smile, you just look away quickly. Then all they're saying is "Okaaaay...?" But when you stare at them expressionlessly for longer than is socially acceptable, they're thinking, "What is that lady's problem?"
So, people, alls I'm sayin' is, when you're at Costco at one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, just don't stare at people so much. It's creeping me out.

A vs. An (It's Not That Hard)

Okay, people. It's time to tackle an issue here that, frankly, we shouldn't have to tackle AT ALL. But, we do, because, apparently (Whooooo, COMMA HAPPY :)) 9th grade honors English students don't know when to use the article 'a' and when to use 'an'. Sigh... I would rant endlessly about this, but let's just save you and me the trouble/boredom (not that ranting is boring (for me) but it does take up time and it's not all that entertaining for y'all) OKAY. Phew. Find your chi, Alyssa. Find your chi. Okay. Let's do this thang.
Imagine that you are writing a paper. You suddenly find yourself confronted with an unsolvable problem: is it a eight or an eight? It's time to stop and ask yourself: WHY THE HECK DO I NOT KNOW THIS? IS THIS NOT 3RD GRADE MATERIAL? Then, give yourself a really, really, humongous, ginormoogantic pat on the FACE (you thought I was gonna say back? Ha, you wish suckahs).
The rules for 'a' and 'an' are simple. Now, listen closely, y'all. If the word that comes after the article you're puzzling over begins with a VOWEL, you use 'an'. If the word that comes after the article begins with a CONSONANT, you use 'a'. Let's look at some examples:
I would like to eat an apple for lunch.
I would like to eat a sandwich for lunch.
Got it? We'll see... Now you try:
1. You forgot to put (a/an) eight after the one.
2. My brother is (a/an) jerk.
3. If you don't get this by now, you are (a/an) mentally challenged person, so please join Mental Alyssa in the Corner of Shame.
4. I prefer meat seasoned with (a/an) herb. OOOOOO, tricksy, tricksy. But you know the answer, I know you do. Just go with your gut; that always works for me.

SO, in conclusion, if I ever see the improper usage of a/an again, I will write the web address of this post on a bajillion itty bitty pieces of paper, roll them into the shape of bullets, and shoot myself with them. I will do that in the hopes that, in honor of my memory, someone will start a charity foundation entirely committed to educating the world in the "complicated" art of proper article usage. And, also, that when they find my body, they will have a bajillion tiny web addresses to hand out to the world in support of this noble cause.


'Nuff said.

WHY I HATE COUNTRY MUSIC

How I Got to Be This Way
By Justin Moore (and 2 others (Rivers Rutherford and Jeremy Stover) who are equally accountable for the madness.)


I rolled my Daddy’s truck off the Dicksonville curve
After drinkin’ my fifth beer
And I fed hogs tryin’ to pay him off
For most of my senior year

I got my jaw jacked by a big ol’ boy
For messing ‘round with his girlfriend
She was tall and tight and she kissed just right
But I’ll never do that again

Chorus
Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

I’ve been kicked in the face by a horse
Cause I ran up too fast behind him
And I shook hands on a deal with a man
And found out he was lyin’

I’ve broken a couple of good girl’s hearts
Cause I’ve said I loved ‘em knowin’ I couldn’t
And I’ve given my heart to a woman
Who said she’d stay when I knew she wouldn’t

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

I’ve been bit I’ve been burned but I’ve lived and I’ve learned from it
I’ve made some mistakes but that’s what it takes
To make a man out of a kid

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

That’s how I got to be this
How I got to be this
How I got to be this way
Hey


Enough said.

Oh MY Gosh

I hate iTunes. For real. I know you're not supposed to be able to transfer music from your iPod onto your PC, but it's ridiculous that when you know how to do it, not all of your music even makes it onto your computer. It's like, "Oh, gee, thanks computer. You know, I didn't even want any complete albums on here. It's not like I paid for them or anything... Oh, wait. I DID. And you know what? I'm glad none of my very favorite songs made it on. I didn't like them all that much anyway, now that I think about it. Thanks for broadening my perspective a little. Now I'm forced to listen to my medium favorites." So now, lucky me gets to buy all brand new songs or figure out some way to email the others to myself.
Did I mention how technologically challenged I am to begin with? I know next to nothing about computers; Grandma Helen probably knows more than me. I'm pathetic when it comes to them. So, needless to say, this is going to be a much bigger challenge than I originally thought.
Great.