Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Out of the Mouths of Babes

A miracle happened Sunday night!
Ok, so I have these friends, Lindsey and Megan (whose birthday is today! Holla!) who really are some of the funniest people you'll ever meet. However. It's one of those relationships where it's all give and no get... Hitch describes a 90-10 rule... yeah... we don't even have that. Now don't get me wrong! We have an awesome relationship and life really is a blast every time we do something... even making a simple run to the grocery store to get dip'n'dots somehow turns into the adventure of a lifetime. Unfortunately, if I want to do something with these girls, I'm pretty much the one who has to instigate it. Until now

So it's a relatively typical Sunday night and my roommate Jesse and I decide that we're gonna be old men and call it a night at about 9:15. We do decide though, that we should have a small ice cream social (as soon as our other roommate, David, leaves... sorry David) Anyway, we are sitting on the couch discussing where we should live next year (meaning that I'm trying to convince Jesse we should move to a complex we had just looked at) and a loud series of knocks comes on the door and VOILA! Megan and Lindsey magically appear!

So we benevolently share our ice cream with those girls (once again... sorry David) and decide to have some good clean Sunday fun and play a friendly game of Catchphrase. Ok. So let me tell you. If you don't know Miss Lindsey Tipps -particularly in an excited mood- you haven't lived. It's almost like she's got the lungs of a black girl with the personality of the Tennessean that she is. I decided that many of the guesses presented during Catchphrase needed to be documented. (For those of you that have never played Catchphrase, I'm sorry, but it's a game where you have to get someone to guess a certain word or phrase by explaining it to them without using the given word or phrase) Anyway, here are some of the highlights of the evening... most of them thanks to Lindsey.

Me: Ok... so when you eat lettuce, it's a
Jesse: A Pallet Cleanser? (supposed to be a salad)

Megan: Ok, so not accoustic, but a...
Lindsey: A BANJO!!! (electric guitar)

Megan: Ok, so I knew a kid who had this when he was young.
Jesse: Herpes! (first of all, not his team, second of all, huh!?)

Me: You consume this in the afternoon
Jesse: A midday snack. (lunch, duh)

Megan: Get Happy!
Lindsey: Marijuana (pronounced by her, Mari ja wanna)

Lindsey: Who am I?
Megan: Latifah

Lindsey: it's a new term for gay
Megan: Homosexual? (brokeback... eew)

Megan: It's bread you eat at dinner
Lindsey: A dinner pita (we're Mormon... you'd think that "rolls" would come more easily than that)

Jesse: So it comes out of a gun and sprays everywhere
Me: Oh! Oh! Oh! I know this... Shartnell! (close, but I think a shart is a little different from shrapnel)

Megan: Ok, what are these? (holding up her hands)
Lindsey: (at the top of her lungs) HANDS!!! OF!!! LIFE!!! (I think simply saying hands would have sufficed)

Lindsey: (singing) abcdefghi... ok, what is that?
Megan: Oh! The abc's! (wow...)

Megan: So superheroes have these
Lindsey: Scooby Doo! (capes?)

Megan: Ok, so in China, they have these animals
Lindsey: THE WALL! THE GREAT WALL!!!!! Oh! I mean monkeys! (she was going for dragon)

Megan: Not pretty, but....
Lindsey: FAT! (fat is not always synonymous with ugly)

Well... with a night like that, I think I'm well on my way to a 6-pack by the end of summer... Oh! and might I just add, that out of about 5 rounds, Jesse and I won 5 times... do the math... we lost none. :)
Boys rule and Girls drool once again

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Wanna Taste the Rainbow?

March Madness in Utah Valley has finally arrived... no, I'm not talking about BYU basketball (otherwise known as Jimmer and the Pips) making the Sweet Sixteen; rather, the Hare Krishna Holi Festival of Colors! Every year, diversity-starved youth round together to experience something other than white Mormonism.

- On a slight tangent... one of my favorite things to hear from a Utahn is when they say in response to a comment like the one just made, "Whatever! Utah is diverse! I had a Black friend!" To that, I say, Point, Set, Match.

Luckily, poor weather did not dampen the mood nor the excitement of the
festivities and the colored cornstarch continued to stain the clothes and fill the nostrils of anyone within a 5 mile radius. This year, I reunited with my good friends, Jake and Kelsey Marx (in whose wedding I was the best man last August). It had been a while since I had seen them, so it was fun to catch up. I was also SOOO thankful for Wallis and Tara to come with me as well so that the dreaded 3rd wheel title was not, once again, mine.

The walk up to the temple was actually kind of funny... we went for the 3:00 throwing so as we were heading up, everybody walking back to their cars were throwing colors at people and, just my luck, I was pretty much the only one to get hit. No matter which side of the walkway I was on, I got the force (as you can see by the picture above at the beginning of our excursion where I am already rainbowed up while everyone else is still clean.)

After trudging through mud and colored cornstarch slime (me in flip flops, of course) to get to a spot, the others finally recognized their jealousy of me in that they weren't as festive as I. Well, we fixed that problem... unfortunately, I may or may not have gotten a bit too excited and poor Tara got the force of it all. You see, we were decorating each other and I tossed a handful of purple powder at her face at about the same time she was laughing hysterically meaning eyes and mouth were both wide open. The good thing about this (yes, I AM making light of the situation) is that it made me feel less stupid about wearing flip flops because she was dumb enough to wear contacts! I was a gentleman though and came to the rescue of the crime that I committed by offering up my shirt previously covered with sweatshirt thus making things all better. I won't take up all the credit... Jake and Kelsey were a typically smart married couple who brought water with them which allowed Tara to wash out her eyes. With the water running down her powdered face, a blood-like substance accumulated down her neck and we really couldn't help but make an oh so cliche Twilight reference (fortunately, I can honestly say that I have never read the books and have only seen the first 2 movies thanks to my 18 yr old sister).

All in all, I'd say that we had a relatively successful afternoon. On my mission, I measured success by asking myself 3 questions: Did I work harder than I did yesterday? Was I 100% obedient? and Did I have fun? I like this approach to measuring success and I feel like a successful Color Festival can be measured by asking yourself the following: Did you ruin a completely good outfit? when you blow your nose, is it pink or blue for the following week? and do you get people commenting about how your ears and scalp are multi-colored at church the next day? For me, the answer is yes, yes, and yes. Ergo, my Saturday = success.

I think that the day can be summed up by Tara's words in the last moments of the following video as we are standing in a circle, dancing like nobody's watching (until now, when the video becomes viral) to some random Hare Krishna music... "I'm glad we came with you guys!"



Life's a blast... Let's keep it that way!

Friday, March 25, 2011

Happy Birthday Marmee!

46 years ago today, this amazing woman was born into this world.


I must say, I am quite grateful for this day because without it, well, I wouldn't be here!
And that, my friends, would be THE tragedy of the century!

Ok, so all joking aside, my mom has got to be the most amazing woman I have ever and will ever meet (future wife, you have a LOT to live up to!). She exemplifies many of the characteristics of the woman whose name I call her. Ever since I was little, one of my favorite movies to watch every Christmas with my mom has been Little Women... I know... it's a total girly movie which really doesn't help me establishing a strong masculine image. Anyway, because of this movie, I call my mom Marmee because that's what the March sisters called their mom. It's something that is only between me and her and has established a fun bond between us. While I was on my mission in Tennessee, every letter was signed -Marmee and I looked forward to seeing that name every time. Like Marmee March, my Marmee is loving, diligent, and can endure just about anything. She has worked so hard her whole life, doing everything she could to provide for her family. My dad became disabled when I was little which made it so my mom had to become the sole provider for the family. Yet, even with this extra burden, she has never failed to follow Pres. David O. McKay's words which state, "No success can compensate for failure in the home." It's a motto that she has based her life upon, always ensuring that her responsibilities as a mother come first. She really is a strength and a role model to me(once again... sorry future wife!).

Well enough of the sappy stuff that nobody besides my mom really want to hear... although I did have to throw it in though simply because I love her... so sue me. I love so many things about my marmee(more than just the work ethic and the food she put on the table), so I compiled a list of just a few of my favorite things about her.
  • that C is not for cookie, but rather for Cameron, and that's good enough for her
  • that she introduced me to the wonders of 80's pop
  • that she instilled a love of reading in me
  • that she came to my room and kissed me good night every night until I went to college
  • that she never fails to remind the Easter Bunny of my love for black jelly beans
  • that she gave me my irresistibly charismatic smile
  • how she helped me overcome my disgust of mayo after ruining it by showing me how to make gumdrop cookies
  • how she never failed to recognize even the simple holidays like St Patrick's Day and Valentine's Day by lining the stairs with confetti and See's chocolate
  • for spending countless hours making the ultimate train cake for my 3rd birthday which put to shame the other kid's little circle cake
  • for teaching me that the Padres really are the ultimate baseball team
  • for making sure that her drive home from work every Monday night is completely and 100% dedicated to talking to me
  • how she laughs every time she hears the word "stool" and says, "You just said stool" simply because it's the medical term for poop (Dad has worn off on her I guess)
It's amazing to think that the little girl in curlers on the right, most likely watching The Lawrence Welk Show on a Saturday night, has transformed into the beautiful and amazing woman that I now call Marmee

Anyway, today is a special day and I'm guessing (or hoping at least) that my mom has gotten exactly what she asked for... the same thing she asks for EVERY year... the thing that will always remind me of Marmee... fresh flowers and a clean house. If I were home, I'd give it to you!

I love you Marmee and Happy Birthday!

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Can't Get Much Lower than This!

Ok... so this may be one of the most pathetic, though hilarious, first blog postings to ever be penned (especially with a title with the word "romance" in it). I'll say from the get-go, I'm not THAT romantically challenged, so the story that follows is actually more humorous than sad... I hope. I suppose though, that because of the nature of the blog title, the story of last weekend is ultimately appropriate, as there is really nowhere to go but up!

Let's start from the very beginning (a very good place to start)... so last week was, for lack of better words, like hell. It was one of those weeks where all you can do is take it 1 day at a time, sometimes, 1 hour at a time... with 4 exams, there wasn't much else I could do without feeling like I would rather get an enema from a hairy-moled softball-player named Olga. Well, Saturday afternoon rolls around and I finally finish my last test (and an upper division economics one at that... why I do this to myself, I know not), and I get back to my apt with one thing on my mind: veg out!

So after 3 too many hours of mindless television, I said to myself, "Get it together! It's Saturday night and you are NOT going to spend it in front of the boob tube!" (I know... I haven't heard it called a boob tube since 3rd grade either) I hop in the shower and get ready to head out with my 2 great friends, Sian-Amy and Amy, to some charity carnival being held up on campus. Now let me tell you, for some blessed reason, I looked good! It was one of those times that you cherish because everything about you looks great... the hair has been perfectly quaffed with hardly any effort at all, the jeans fit better than ever, and dang! does that jacket make me look hott with a whopping double t! (thank you for obliging me in going off on that oh so Narcissistic rant) Generally, when one looks good, one feels good, and that, my friends, was the case that night. I was officially prepared to take on the world with one glance in the mirror.

So we're heading up to campus, and bless their hearts, I love them, but those 2 girls start going off on the "I need a boyfriend rant." Girls, you know exactly what that is - boys, if you haven't the slightest of what I'm talking about, consider yourself spared. You see, I feel like friends are like tofu; they take on whatever flavor they're put with. If we're put with happy, we're happy; if we're put with sad, we're sad... so on and so forth. I fall into the tofu stereotype perfectly; ergo, I get the "I need a girlfriend bug" and it's all downhill from there.

Needless to say, the night did NOT go as planned... We ended up not staying very long at the carnival and, having been brought down from the top of the world, I decline the invitation to watch another period drama (Persuasion), deciding to simply make my way back home. Ok... finally... here comes the pinnacle of this story, proving that I really DO have a loooooooooong process to make any progress to romance. Up to this point, it probably seems that my life isn't as rock bottom as I've made it seem, but not to fear! pathetic is here! You see, I don't do much better by myself than if I had stayed to watch Persuasion... in fact, I think I actually did worse since I would have at least been with 2 beautiful girls if I had stayed to watch Persuasion!

So there I am; it's 10:30 on a Saturday night, and I'm a 22 yr old college kid heading to an empty apartment faced with the depressing thought that I am the official loser sitting in his apt on the weekend. How do I solve this little predicament!? I hop on into my car, head to the grocery store, and buy a half gallon of Mother Lode ice cream and a bag of Doritos. But just wait! it gets worse! I head on home, get into pajamas, grab a blanket and a spoon, and waaaaiiit for it..... waaaaaiiiit for it!... I pop in the oh so sappy, terribly depressing, tear-jerking, why am I watching this, Nicholas Sparks original... A Walk to Remember.

If I don't know already how sad this looks, about an hour later, my roommate, David, walks in... he looks at me, looks at the tv, back at me, down to the ice cream... finally, back up to me... raises an eyebrow, and simply says, "Rough night?" I couldn't have said it better myself.

Sooooo.... moral of the story... for any of you that are feeling down on yourselves, thinking that you're pathetic, just picture a thinning-haired Hugh Grant look-a-like staring down at a pitiful man holding a spoon and a half-gallon tub of ice cream watching a sappy chic-flic (alone), asking those piercing words, "rough night?"