Post- Silent Saturday

Via: owlnet

From Houston, with Love

Inspiration

From: here

I've been a bit dry of inspiration lately.

There is a paradox that rules my life: the more time I have, the less I get done.

So as I continue on my search for this elusive, but essential, piece of life, 

I'll leave you with the words of a very wise younger brother: 

"Don't forget to have good dreams". 

That's probably as good a place as any to begin my quest. 

Happy adventuring to all of you tonight.

Silent Saturday

From: here

I want to be and do so much more.

Even when I think that, this song makes me safe and warm.

I'm a cocktail of infectious disease

Bartender, I'd like a mix of meningitis and H1N1 with two shots of Hepatitis sprinkled with some Typhoid.

I think I'm going to regret this in the morning. 

Letters to Juliet

I saw this movie on Friday with my mom. She pointed out that it has an almost identical plot to Leap Year. "They're both chefs", my mom said as we left the theatre. I replied, "No, in one she leaves the surgeon fiance for the chef, in this one she leaves the chef fiance for the humanitarian guy. That's really different." Either way the Brits ultimately win. Why is that, do you think? All I know is that I would marry one.

There were two good parts:
When she's talking and her fiance smells the food in the bag.
And when the British boy compares London to NYC.

That's about it. The rest was pretty typical, but fun. If I didn't like cheesy romantic comedies I wouldn't watch them.

Silent Saturday

Via: countryliving

Perfect Night For A Party

Diem Carped

From: arizona foothills magazine

Missionaries have a very specific dress code. Skirts must be calf length, not trendy, in specific fabrics. You need to have a few blazers and collared shirts and nice sweaters. You must look conservative and professional at all times. I have some clothes that fit this bill, and my mom is letting me take a few of her skirts, but there were a lot of little things we needed to get to bulk up my missionary wardrobe and today was the day.

Ann Taylor:

Attractive blazer I might actually wear on days that aren't Zone Conference (we got it for over 75% off!!!)

Collared shirt with light blue stripes

Gap:

A tan cardigan

Ann Taylor Loft: 

Some sweaters (one is a rather bright shade of pink that'll liven things up a bit)

Maceys:

A bright blue collared dress that's long enough and actually has a waist line

Savers:

Pajamas (cute stripped ones)

A t-shirt to jog in

A dress that I can't take on my mission, but how do you turn down a modest J Crew dress for under 10 bucks? You don't. 

Walmart:

A black belt

Black collared shirt

Michele- are you proud of my store choices. I converted my mom to Ann Taylor. 

One Dancing Princess

by Sofi via vi.sualize.us

My parents pulled out the homevideos this afternoon. In the three hours we spent watching them I learned three things about myself.

1. I had big ears as a child
2. I was really happy all the time
3. I lived in another world

Now with the last statement you probably think I'm refering to the outdated clothing I saw. And there was a lot of it. Between my mothers huge glasses and my nightgownlike pantsuit we laughed quite a bit, but that's not what I'm talking about.
It seems I was always dancing about in pretty dresses pretending to be a princess. I had this constant desire to express myself. You can tell I've rehearsed specific things for the camera like when I read the book aloud or played the piano. I was a performer. How I ended up an introverted English major I'll never know. There's this great shot where my dad is pruning the giant cottonwood trees we used to have in our backyard and I come out in my mom's prom dress, costume braid, and red lipstick (remember I'm probably about eight). At least my makeup looked good, no smears.
I will forever remember playing make believe in the backyard with my brother when the lawn chairs were a spaceship and we had to climb the olianders to get away from the bad guys, I remember singing karaoke to "My Heart Will Go On", and playing library and teacher in my bedroom, but I don't remember all the dancing. It explains a lot.

Primary Survival Kit: Crayons and Chocolate

 Via: sprayblog

Teaching a group of six year olds about following Jesus isn't as easy as one would have you believe. Between differentiating between Jesus and Superboy and playing following the leader when everyone wants to be the leader except the little girl who just wants to hide in the corner I had my work cut out for me this afternoon. I told stories and they got bored, I bore my testimony and they started packing up, but crayons and chocolate-- those are the two magic secrets of parenthood as far as I can tell. They were well behaved and so I didn't have to worry about them fighting over the pink ones. Even the shy one came out from behind the chair she'd squeezed behind and asked me for a piece of paper. Mix that with bribes of the mother's day chocolate I had in my purse and I managed to survive substituting today. I can now go on to fight another day.

Silent Saturday

From: here

Long live the mockingjay.

Less game than a 12 year old

Via: vi.sualize.us

Brother: So Tracy, how're you doing?

Me: Good. How are you?
Brother: Good.
Me: Good. You're texting.
Brother: Yep.
Me: A girl?
Brother: Yep.
Me: A girl named...
Brother: Actually I'm texting two girls.

Craigslist!

I discovered Craigslist.com today. It's crazy. You don't just sell stuff there. You can find people, complain about stuff, even look up jobs. I've been applying for jobs all afternoon and have an interview this evening. I have to say, there sure is a lot of demand for attractive employees. At least in Vegas they're up front about it. Also apparently in demand: women with big feet, double amputees, a suzy homemaker, graffiti artists, and my favorite, Catwoman for a fanmade superhero movie.

Silent Saturday

From: here