Pancake Extraordinaire

Let's just all stop and take a moment to appreciate and admire my awesome pancake composition skills.

Happy BRUNCH!

Blueberry pancakes with whipped cream, fresh blueberries, and... ew. Chunky peanut butter.
For Colin.

IT'S A BEAR!!
Regular pancake with Nutella, strawberries, and a touch of whipped cream and two blueberries!
For Randi.

The ones I made for myself (no photo) were actually just a heap of chocolate chip pancakes with extra chocolate chips on top, strawberries, and whipped cream.

Be so jealous.

Saturday is a special day

It's the day we get ready for Monday!

Today Colin is home in Maryland with his friend, Nic, seeing his [Colin's] family.

I couldn't go because I couldn't get work off because my boss was going to go the temple. He actually ended up at home dealing with a dislocated rib, but same basic situation. I needed to be at work to supervise.

My opportunity for some girl time, right?

Nope! My roommate and housemate spent the day in Lynchburg. Housemate's boyfriend flew in earlier this week to visit her, and roommate's fiance was flying in today to visit roomie and take engagement photos.
I thought I might be able to invite myself since work doesn't start until 3:45. NOPE.
They wanted to stay in Lynchburg for dinner and shopping.

So I stayed home. And sat on the couch. And did research.

But it's okay that I don't have friends because I got to eat FOUR brownies.

Our head RA's brought brownies around to the apartments today. Five for each apartment. But one girl from our's moved out, so there's only four of us. And two were in Lynchburg. So Dinah and I figured what they didn't know, couldn't hurt them. And Dinah told me to take the brownies. So I did. And I ate four brownies today.

And they don't read my blog so I can write about my secrets here.

Gosh, isn't that horrible? "It's okay that I don't have friends because I can just eat lots of chocolate instead."

Basically.

Ch-ch-change

I woke up this  morning and I wrote down this song put on these pants.

Retrospectively, I can tell you that this is called FORESHADOWING.

I thought it looked cute. Whatever. I put on my blue suede shoes. 

And I went to get my hair lightened. It is QUITE the process, by the way. I was there from 9:30 until 1:00, pretty much. 

I left with my hair this color:

                                    

IT'S SO ORANGE.

And it matches my pants. Which I think may be tacky. And since I don't have the flexibility/balance skills of bringing my leg up to my head to demonstrate the color similarity, here is my head by my leg:

I have no idea what sort of face you're supposed to make when taking photos like this. A smile seemed weird. Like... who smiles when putting their head by their knee? It's not like it's particularly fun or joyous...

Also, I should probably be a fashion blogger so that I can talk about my cool clothes and post pictures like this:

Or maybe not.

Two Things

1. I'm getting my hair lightened (AGAIN) tomorrow. Here's to the expensive process of attempting to return to my natural color! Au revoir to dark brown. Here's a parting picture. Because I don't think I've posted enough of myself recently. (sarcasm)

I need a better webcam for all these selfies. Also, let's admire that I have some makeup on. And that I kind of did my hair. This has been less and less of a common occurrence. (Sorry, Colin.)


2. Benefits of flowy loose shirts: I can totes save them for my future (very future) maternity wardrobe. My future self should appreciate this. Example:

Yes? Yes. I could totally fit a baby under there. A big ol' nine-pounder. But I'm going to cross my fingers that THAT much space won't be necessary.

Am I getting ahead of myself?
Yes?
Yes.

Excuse Me?

Colin refuses to "friend" a guy on Facebook because he "doesn't like him THAT much," and I just want full access to stalk his wedding photos!! It's not even right.

Oh yeah... And a couple's shot

Because I didn't include a "couple's shot" in my Valentine's post. What was I thinking??

A Conclusion and A Goal

Conclusion:

I have a lot of clothing.


Goal:

I'm going to start on one end of my closet and work my way towards the other end, wearing a different clothing article each day until I've made it through everything.
I thought that "church clothing" would make this difficult because I have a lot... but there's only one Sunday a week. HOWEVER, I do work six nights a week, with a professional dress code for four of those nights. So I'll work through the "nice" section of my closet that way. I'll just have to start shaving my legs instead of wearing dress slacks all the time. Or wear tights. Or just pretend my legs aren't hairy. Probably the latter.

Wish me luck!

Happy Valentine's Day!

From the girl who seriously needs to redye her hair because her blonde roots are showing and it makes her look like she's balding.

Trying to show off my festive shirt without getting up off of the couch. It says "AMOUR" and then "LOVE" underneath.

See? Balding at the part. Lame.

Fiscal Responsibility

I almost bought a concert ticket. $60 to see RASCAL FLATS and THE BAND PERRY. Man, oh man. Going to a Rascal Flats concert has been a goal for the past two years.
And then I thought about it....

I wrote out a $45 check for books
A $45 membership fee for Phi Alpha Theta (national history honor society)
I have a $50 bill coming up for taking care of an almost-cavity (the dentist said it ISN'T MY FAULT. My tooth didn't fully form, okay??)
And if I want to compete in the Phi Alpha Theta conference and present a paper, that will be $25.
Plus I finally wrote a tithing check out for my last three pay checks.

And I need to buy more bread. And milk.

So I decided to be responsible and NOT buy myself a concert ticket.

And then this skirt that I want is on sale... $10 off, plus I found an additional 10% off coupon... so I decided to buy it online. I made an account, put it in my shopping cart, entered my shipping and billing address.... And then saw how much shipping was. And grudgingly closed the window, deciding not to buy it, after all.

But I DID buy myself a $5 t-shirt from Walmart.
And $14 cords from JC Penny
And $12 exercise capris from Walmart because I was tired of going to Body Flow in my thin leggings and feeling like the class skank.
....And $15 in gas to get to Roanoke, where I used my $25 gift card at Olive Garden, plus another almost-ten-dollars for what the gift card didn't cover and the tip.

This stuff is HARD WORK!

When my life is like a TV show

I am a full time student (15 credit hours, plus a class I don't get credit for) with a part-time job(technically, two part-time jobs) (20 hours a week) and oh, so much to do.

Today I was at Colin's lacrosse game from one until three thirty, and then work from three forty-five until nine o'clock. Colin pretty much always picks me up from work (in the basement catacombs lower-level of Main Hall) and then drives me back to my apartment. He was waiting for me when I got out of work, like usual. I didn't know where he was parked, so followed him up the stairs to the main level, and he was headed for the ballroom to go out the doors near his usual parking spot.

The ballroom is a rather ornate room (rococo, I believe) and is often used for "official" meetings. There is a sign on the doors asking people to please go around the room (rather than through) when the doors are closed.

The doors were closed.

I said, "No, Colin, it says to go around!"
He said, "It will be fine!"

We went through the doors. I saw a group of people gathered, standing by a table, and staring at us.

I thought: OH, this is awkward. We just interrupted some social gathering. I really hope the university president wasn't having some sort of party--

and my irritation with Colin for pushing through those doors mounted.

The people yelled "SURPRISE!" and I swear I was stuck in some tv show and SO embarrassed.

You know how EVERY TIME a surprise party is planned on TV, the WRONG person walks in and everyone yells "SURPRISE!" and it's ruined??

I swear that was me. We shouldn't have walked through those doors. We just spoiled someone's surprise party. My life is literally like some stupid cliche show. I just hoped the birthday person wasn't right behind me so that the party could recover and hopefully continue somewhat smoothly and still be a surprise of sorts.

And then the people in the room came into focus.

And a light bulb went on.

And they were all looking at me.

And then I realized....

My birthday is coming up.

And Colin was beaming.

And it was my surprise birthday party.

And I wasn't mad at Colin, anymore.

You are not.

It hit me yesterday.

I am excessively uncomfortable with doing things I am not great at. Particularly in front of other people.

In the words of a favorite saying featured in a certain Cinderella movie, I let the fear of striking out keep me from playing the game.

For example:
I am really self-conscious about my driving. It took me forever to get my license because I never wanted to practice because I was afraid of making mistakes and embarrassing myself/killing someone. And now that I have my license, I still try to avoid driving.

I'm not athletic. When I was younger, I hated playing tag (unless it was TV-tag, which introduced an element of knowledge, albeit pop culture), and as a child I was that kid who always yelled, "WAIT. TIME OUT!!" when I was about to be tagged. Or faked tripping. I transitioned giggling/gleeful/terrified evasion to whimpering and whining in like... zero seconds.

Fast forward to Thanksgiving with Colin's family. They have a kickball tradition, and OF COURSE I was among the last selected in picking teams (elementary flashback). It made me secretly wish that I was on the women's soccer team so that I could stun them all with my amazing kicking abilities and make them wish they'd picked me first. And it's not like I was the worst at kicking the ball. But Colin was on the other team and made a special (unfortunately successful) effort to get me out whenever I ran for first base. I could not believe it. And I can't catch or throw for anything, so outfield was no chance for redemption. I tried (unsuccessfully) to be a good sport and not be annoyed with him for throwing me under the bus. I tried. But who wants to be the family reunion guest that brings down the team?

And singing. Once upon a time I thought I was a decent singer. Actually, I even thought that I was pretty good. And then I was told otherwise. On multiple occasions and by various persons. So I grudgingly accepted that, and generally tried to rock out with reckless abandon. After all, if I act like I'm not trying and like I don't care, I can't be faulted. This was harder with Irish folk music and church hymns.

Back in November, Colin told me that they have a hootenannie tradition of sorts.
I got excited for this:

picture from here

Because that's what my family calls German pancakes.

This is what he meant: 

picture from here

So pretty much a jam session.

According to Wikipedia, we're both somewhat correct...

Hootenanny is an Appalachian colloquialism that was used in early twentieth century America as a placeholder name to refer to things whose names were forgotten or unknown. In this usage it was synonymous with thingamajig or whatchamacallit, as in "hand me that hootenanny." Hootenanny was also an old country word for "party". Nowadays the word most commonly refers to a folk-music party with an open mic, at which different performers are welcome to get up and play in front of an audience.

"Hootenanny" was also used by the leadership of early firefighting battalions to describe a "meeting of the minds" of higher ups or various department heads. The term has trickled down to working companies and is now used, with some frequency, at working incidents and other circumstances that require a focused discussion between key individuals. Most recently it was adopted for use during the annual Fire Department Instructors Conference. Logistics professionals for the conference employ the word to call together the required personnel needed to accomplish the prodigious assignments placed on them.

So in the end, instead of a buttery egg dish, there were...buttery voices.
And I was like... Man. I wish I could sing. And play the guitar. And things.

SO THE POINT OF THIS POST: 
I am in a class called "Group Voice" this semester, hoping to learn how to not sound bad when I sing. It's probably going to be the hardest class to get an 'A' in for me. (I'm not excellent at practice logs). Every week we have to send our professor a journal update, and this last week he emailed me back, responding to my sentiment, "I’m still nervous, but I’m getting a little excited about the possibility of being able to sing decently."
 He said: And you are singing not only decently, but very well!

Hallelujah.

In the words of another student, "Today I was blown away with the power of practicing. I used to think my singing voice couldn't really get better, it was just something I had to deal with. But know I know how much practice can really influence the quality of my singing voice."

There are so many skills I want to develop. And I'm getting the feeling that it's not too late to try... if only I could make the time!