Lyrics are Hard

David and I were driving in the car and the song "Brave" came on the radio. We both sang along, and at the chorus he sang "I want to see your bridge burn!" instead of "I want to see you be brave!" I had already seen the music video for the song and I knew it was a really uplifting song, so I made fun of him for a few days about that. He continues to sing it that way.

*skip to 50 seconds to hear that line

Also, one of my favorite songs right now, called Radoactive, is named "Ready to rock you" in David's book.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to rag on David, I just think it's funny. I have misheard WAY more lyrics that he has, I just can't think of them right now. But even worse, when I don't know the words I make them up. For example, in the song Royals by Lorde it says "And we'll never be royals....(couple of lines later)...you can call me queen bee!" and when I sing it around the house I forget how it goes so I skip those couple of lines in between and say "And we'll never be royals, laying in a bed of cheese!" 

Things like this. All the time. My brain is weird. 

Public Restroom

So I walked into a stall in a restroom on campus the other day. I shut the door, sat down (hovering, of course; there was no seat cover), did my business, and when I went to zip up my pants I saw that...

MY STALL DOOR WAS OPEN!

Granted, it was only a tiny bit, but that could have had some major embarrassing consequences.

Ladies and gentleman, make sure your stall door is in the locked position before you begin going to the bathroom in a public restroom.

The Elusive Sweatpants.

Today I was got home from school and went to browse the internet to relax a little. My jeans were uncomfortable, so I took them off, along with my shoes, right then and there.

I then went in search for some comfy slippers and sweats. Not very many people know this, but I am awful at looking for things. I can walk past something five times and not see it even though I'm looking for it. That happened today. I scoured our one bedroom apartment for maybe 5-7 minutes looking for my gray sweats and couldn't find them! I gave up and went back to the computer. And that's when I spotted them.

The elusive sweats.

Right next to the computer chair where I had been sitting when I got up to look for them.

Note: I did not move either pair of pants/shoes for comedic value. This is really where they were.

Apparently I had done the exact same thing with my sweats earlier that morning that I did with my jeans in the afternoon.

P.S. David has read this post and responded "That epitomizes you."

Waving

One time when I was on campus I saw a girl that was in my ward. She was walking towards me looking at the ground. I couldn't remember her name, so I couldn't say hi to make her look up. Right before we passed each other she finally looked up so I raised my hand and waved. But she didn't see.I ended up doing this awkward "I wasn't really waving" thing to play it off. Kind of like these guys:

Since she didn't see me do it, she would never know that I tried to say hi and couldn't remember her name, so I just went on my merry way. And then I noticed that there was a car right behind her and the person driving was her husband and a grad student I worked with! He saw the entire thing. And the fact that he is a PhD student makes it like 20 times more embarrassing because he is so intimidating. 

Did you know?

Did you know that the common infinity scarf could be substituted as a nice turban?

Shower Curtain

Every morning David takes a shower while I brush my teeth, and every morning I stand on the toilet in our teeny tiny bathroom and peek over the shower curtain to have a little after-breakfast chat. It's a great bonding time. This morning I was leaning especially hard on the shower curtain rod thinking it was securely fastened.

It wasn't.

The rod disconnected from the walls and I suddenly fell on top of David while he was in his shower with the rod and curtain and I was getting all sorts of wet and luckily neither of us got hurt.

Paint Swatch Wall

If you decide to cover your wall in paint swatches like you saw on Pinterest make sure you take a picture of how you laid the swatches out perfectly on the ground before you start putting them up on the wall or else your husband will hand them to you and you won't know where they go and you will get really mad at him  because he wasn't paying attention to where he picked them up from and it was laid out so perfectly and he'll be mad at you for getting mad at him and having the idea in the first place and then you'll have to take it all down and start over.

School

I sit next to a guy in one of my classes that makes side comments to me about the lecture a few times every class period and he talks quietly enough that 95% of the time I can't understand what he says and I just have to smile or say "yeah" and hope that's an appropriate response.

Nasty Habitses

Occasionally David and I drink orange juice with our cereal in the morning. I have a very nasty habit when it comes to orange juice. I always rest the cap on the orange juice container without actually screwing it on because I assume I will want seconds. I am so efficient I wouldn't dare waste the energy to screw the cap on and off an extra time if I already know that I want more orange juice. But sometimes me and David aren't on the same page. And then when he goes to shake the orange juice to mix around the pulp, the lid goes flying off and orange juice pours all over him and the floor.

Oops.

Sewing

I am in a sewing class right now and we are making a pair of pajama pants. First you sew the inside leg seam, then you sew the crotch. At this point the pants get confusing on how to sew. A girl in my class was going strong, and was ready to sew the seam on the outside leg. She finished it, and when she went to try them on she looked at me and said, "I think I did something wrong..."

Her pants looked like this:

We could NOT stop laughing. I still can't figure out what she did to make them like this. 

Medicine Cabinet Treasure

Over the summer David and I lived at my mom's house. You learn some things about your mom when you live with her in your adult life.

One night we went out for Mexican food, and it didn't sit well with David. He had a pretty upset stomach. Normally he has to suck it up because we don't have any medicine at our apartment, but I went to ask my mom if she had anything since we were at her house.

She looked through her medicine cabinet and found some Pepto-Bismol that was recently expired. I was wondering why she kept expired medicine, but I didn't really care that much. Until I saw an eerily familiar pink bottle from my childhood. It was a calamine lotion (for bug bites) that expired in NINETEEN NINETY ONE. Yes. 1991.

I was shocked. That bottle probably hadn't even been touched for over a decade. Apparently it was fine to hold onto it because it wasn't something you ingest, so it was "safe" (according to my mother).

Viewer Discretion Advised

My skin is prone to warts. I have gotten them ever since I was a little kid. They aren't gross or nasty (well, except this one planter wart I had on my toe in high school), they are just small little flesh colored bumps. I have this one on my knuckle that has been burned off with liquid nitrogen twice already, and it won't go away. I decided this week would be a good week to get that wart and two others burned off because I start school and work next week. I know they blister up when they are burned off and I didn't want unseemly blisters on my hands with all my classmates and co-workers looking at them.

When the doctor first went to freeze them off she did one little squirt of liquid nitrogen on each wart and then said I was good to go. I basically said, "Look, lady. I want these suckers gone today. I don't want to have to come back for another treatment. Maybe you should squirt more of that liquid nitrogen on them."

WHY.

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT AMANDA.

I mostly blame my current situation on the second round of freezing.

Right after they got frozen my skin was tingly and uncomfortable for maybe 20 minutes. Then my knuckle, where two of my warts are, started to swell. It was like a blister, but with really really thick skin. My entire knuckle skin was the outside of the blister. I was thinking to myself, "If I were to rip the skin off this blister I would reach the bone." It was so strange. And the wart on my palm wasn't blistering at all.

Three hours later the real fun began.

The real blisters started forming. They were sensitive to the touch, but not bad at all. The one on the palm of my hand looked exactly how I expected it to look.

But the blister/growth on my knuckle was horrendous. I don't even like looking at it. But it being ugly isn't the worst part. The blisters kept filling up and filling up with fluid. By 8:00 at night they were rock hard. Any and every slight movement of my hands hurts.

And I decided this was the worst week of all to get them burned off.

WE ARE MOVING ALL OUR CRAP INTO OUR APARTMENT.

This means boxes and boxes and tons of unloading and tons of hand movement. What. Was. I. Thinking.

Online it says that blisters are "nature's band aids" for burns, but screw that, I needed to drain these suckers if it was the last thing I did.

16 fluid ounces of blister juice later, they went down.

Purloined Package

Now is the season of textbook sales and rentals for college students. Within the last few days David has ordered 4-5 textbooks online that we have been waiting for in the mail. He received his first one yesterday and his second one today. We were at home when the delivery man rang the doorbell, so when we saw him walking away we knew it was a package. The package was from Chegg, a textbook rental company. David was anxious to see what book it was, so he immediately cut the tape and opened the package. He started pulling out random things, telling me out loud what each one was:

"A piece of gum"

"Something from Mary Kay (lip gloss I think)"

"A can of red bull"

"An ad for HuluPlus"

"An ad for Chegg"

"Is there even a book in here?"

And then he looks at the shipping label on the outside of the box and it says "Ceci ____." Oops. This is the roommate that just moved into the house I'm staying at two days ago. We haven't said more than a cordial "hello" to her. I don't know why she got a package from Chegg that had no book in it, but we taped it back up and set it right in front of her bedroom door. 

She'll never know...

P.S. I had David look over this post (like always), and asked him what the title should be. He suggested the one I used. I literally had to look up the definition of "purloined" because I have never heard that word in my life. Where in his brain is there room for odd words like that??

Cookies

I made some cookies for the missionaries the other day. Good old chocolate chip cookies. I have made chocolate chip cookies probably 23,854,739 times in my life. There was nothing that could go wrong.

The recipe calls for "softened butter" and since refrigerated butter is rock hard, I always microwave it. My mistake in the past is that I microwave the butter until the point that it is boiling, basically. I wanted to truly get "softened" butter this time. I microwaved the butter for a few seconds at a time until it wasn't hard as granite anymore, then added it to the sugar/vanilla. The recipe said to beat it until it got "fluffy". Mine looked like little pebbles. The mixture was not sticking together. I figured once I added in the flour and other ingredients it would all work out.

I added all the other ingredients and now the mixture looked like sand.

It was kind of like moon sand. It would stick together if you pressed it together, but otherwise it wouldn't. I tried mushing it together with a spoon thinking maybe there was just a bunch of butter chunks in there that didn't get spread out and that made it dry. 

No luck.

I tried microwaving it so the butter would melt and make the cookie dough more moist.

No luck.

I finally showed it to my mom showing her how weird the cookie dough turned out. This had never happened before. One tiny glance over at the bowl and she asked "did you add the eggs?" Ummmm..... NOPE. How do you forget the only real liquid ingredient in your cookie recipe? You focus too much on the softened butter, that's how. I added the eggs and all was well in the cookie universe. 

In the Nude

Today I was going to the bathroom, and right as I finished I noticed there was no more toilet paper left. We keep the toilet paper under the bathroom sink, which is just outside the toilet/shower area. I just wiggled and bounced around a little bit to shake any drops of urine off me, and then I waddled over to the sink to get the toilet paper just like I would any other day.

But this wasn't just like any other day.

This is the view from the sink, where I was in the nude from my waist down reaching for the roll of toilet paper.

We always keep the blinds closed so the neighbors can't see us changing. BUT NOT TODAY.

 I forgot that I had opened the blinds earlier today to let more air into the room. Below is a picture of one of the many people that take walks in this neighborhood.

Just to give you an idea, this is how I was positioned, reaching for the toilet paper, when I noticed the dreaded blinds were open, exposing me to any passer by who happened to look my way (note: this is a reenactment. This was not the actual location or the outfit I was wearing for the incident).

The Pass

I went on a family vacation recently to a beach condo. It was inside a gated community, so I had a pass I had to keep on the dashboard of my car to get in to the community every day.

One day me and David were driving to the grocery store to get some things for dinner. It was a gorgeous day. The sun shone brightly down on our two door car. We drove along, gazing at the palm trees along the road without a care in the world. On such a nice day I couldn't help but roll down the window for a fresh sea breeze.

It happened in slow motion. I lazily began to twist the lever that let the window descend into the depths of the car. The window was one inch down, and I could already feel the gentle breeze wisp my hair aside. I could smell the salt from the ocean a short distance away. The more I rolled down the window, the more I felt the wind. My hair began to whip around me. It felt like riding a gentle roller coaster on a warm Summer day. I closed my eyes for a brief moment to etch the moment into my memories. That is what pure joy feels like.

As soon as the window was all the way down I leaned back on my sun-warmed seat to relax, and that is when I saw it. The wind began to raise the edge of our pass off the dashboard. It slid towards the open window; slowly at first, then with more vigor. In my mind I was shouting for David to catch the paper before it exited the confines of our vehicle, but there was no time to shout to him. His own animal instincts that saved us in that moment. He snatched the paper up just as it was leaving the car and saved it from leaving us forever. David handed me the pass for safe keeping. I carelessly placed the pass back on the dashboard not thinking that anything would come of it. Mere seconds later we rounded a corner and the wind shifted directions. Before I had time to react I saw the paper lift off the dashboard. In one smooth motion it floated upwards, twisted, and flipped before my eyes. I couldn't process what I was witnessing. The wind gave one final gust and pushed the paper past me and out my window silently. It was as if the pass was never there in the first place. It was lost forever.

Or so I thought.

In the immediate aftermath David and I exchanged glances, silently asking one another, "Do we drive back to get it?"

"I think it's lost," I said, with despair in my voice. When put in a position to save the pass that allowed us access to our beach condo, I had failed. We would need to retrieve a new pass.

David, being the optimistic person he is, debated what action to take in his head. He then turned the car around, determined to find the lost pass. Understanding what he wanted to do, I straightened my back and began looking on the road for the blue paper. There were blue tinted shadows on the road that made it particularly difficult to see. We drove slowly wary of other drivers behind us that might want to pass our vehicle. When I had lost all hope of finding the missing paper, David was determined to keep searching. Not 100 yards further and something caught my eye. Could it be? Could we have really found the lost pass? I kept my thoughts to myself for a moment, not wanting to get my hopes up in the event that I was wrong. As we approached the spot on the road where I believed the pass to lie, I urged David to hastily stop the car. He pulled off to the side and there, between the two driving lanes on the road, was the pass to get into the community. I couldn't believe it. We had found it! David then opened his door and strategically ran towards the paper, dodging traffic along the way, as he retrieved the cherished pass. All was well, and we could continue our trip to the grocery store.

Being Creepers

Today David and I went to this "water ice" place called Rita's. I don't get it because all ice is made of water, but I heard it was amazing. It is kind of like a thick slushy, and we got soft serve ice cream with it. Pretty delicious. The Rita's we went to has only been open a week, and didn't have an outdoor seating area, so we ate it sitting on a bench pretty close to another restaurant. This other restaurant did have outdoor seating.

As I was eating my water ice my eyes lazily wandered over to the tables nearby. I suppose I was staring, but I'm a people watcher, so that's just what I do. David was facing away from me looking in the same general direction as me. As I was watching, a waiter came by the tables to deliver some food. He looked over in our direction, glanced down, then pretty quickly looked back up and continued looking for a few seconds. I was in a nice relaxed mood, enjoying the sun and my water ice, so I just kept staring, not really thinking about it. Eventually he broke eye contact and continued delivering the food he was carrying.

Me: I think that waiter just stared at us. But it wasn't just staring, it was like a double-take. He looked away then looked back at us and stared.
...
Me: It was probably because I was hard-core staring at him.
David: Hahah you were? I was too. It was probably because I was like this:

 Neither of us had known that the other was looking at the waiter. And thus it turns out the waiter is not the creepy one, but me and David are.

Too Strong.

Today I learned that I am just too strong.

I love reading in bed right before I fall asleep, but I hate getting out of bed to turn off the light. One time I even tried tying a string around the light switch so I could pull on it from bed and turn the light off. It only worked once and then I couldn't get the string to stay on anymore.

Since string-pulling days I have upgraded to a book light that clips on my book. It's great. But sometimes by book light gets all kinked up so it won't shine on the right spot of my book. Today I was pulling on it to straighten it out, and the whole light portion came right off. It didn't even feel like I was pulling very hard!

Lucky for me, the light still works, I just have to hold it in my hand instead of clipping it to my book.  

Tan Lines

I moved to San Diego for the summer, therefore I have to get tan to fit it. Even at my very darkest state I am still a pale outcast, but I'm trying. I have been here for a month so far and have already gotten a pretty wicked watch tan.

Honestly, it is a little embarrassing how pale I used to be. 

I got a new swim suit this summer, and when I went to the beach the other day I thought it would give me some cool looking tan lines on my stomach and back.

As soon as I saw what had happened I thought it was some weird rash. It is just a sun burn. Unfortunately, not as "cool" looking as I had anticipated. As my sister Natalie pointed out, it looks like I have hives. 

Burnt

I found this recipe one time for home-made tortilla chips. It is super easy. You just take corn tortillas, cut them into fourths, spritz them with olive oil and sprinkle them with salt then put them in the oven for 15 minutes until they are crispy.

I have made them a few times and David is a fan. He wanted some, so he decided to make them. But even with a super easy recipe, it can be hard to get it right.

Yes, these brown chips were made from regular corn tortillas. David got a little distracted while they were in the oven. 

Finals Week: Episode 1

This week was finals week. The worst week of the year. That comes around twice a year.

Finals suck, but at BYU finals week is even worse because of all the relationship drama. Half the girls at BYU get married the Saturday after finals so they are all super stressed trying finish planning a wedding, and then the other half just started dating their boyfriend two weeks ago and have this monumental decision to make about if they should go home for the Summer or ditch their Summer plans and stay with the boy toy. It's a big deal. Love is in the air, and it is sickening.Yet captivating.

For example, I went to the library to do some studying yesterday and I was sitting at a four-person table by myself. The library was pretty crowded with students, so when a girl asked if she could sit at my table I said that was fine. Little did I know that she was engaged and her fiance was going to come in ten minutes to sit with her. This is fine, but then they couldn't get enough of each other. I was literally 12 inches away from them and they were cuddling and whispering and kissing each other. This is the sickening part.

Now let's get to the captivating part. The next day I was in a different part of the library. The place I was sitting was right next to a window that looked out to a high traffic area of Library. It is right by the entrance, and it is also the easiest place to access from the bottom floors that has cell phone reception, so a lot of people end up walking by, and pausing to talk with others/ on their phone there. I chose the seat I did because I could get one bar of reception from my seat, so I could text David. I didn't realize a soap opera was about to play out in front of me between a couple. This was the jackpot of people-watching scenarios. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could read their body language. I could pretend to do my homework and they wouldn't even notice me, but when the girl looked over towards me a few times I could lean back 6 inches and hide behind the piece of wood that separates the sections of the window.  Here is the setup.

As soon as I saw the couple, I dropped my studying and started watching them. I gave David a play-by-play of the drama through text. This is what I sent him.

Me: I am watching the drama unfold. There is a girl with super puffy red crying eyes and a boy rubbing her arm and trying to comfort her. How with this enthralling drama end? Did he make her cry? Or was it something else? And why are they not going somewhere more private? No girl wants the entire world to see her cry.

Me: Note, he has no wedding ring on. Neither does she.

Me: It has evolved into an animated discussion. He looks like he is getting frustrated.

Me: She started to walk away and he did that thing you do where you smile but you are super angry and you act like it is almost funny that I'm acting so ridiculous.

Me: They hugged and started to part ways, but she looked reluctant to leave him. He came back and rolled his eyes.

Me: This is like a movie drama.

Me: She faced me and kept looking at me so I had to stop watching. She went upstairs and he walded away on this floor. Who knows if they can get over this one. I hope you enjoyed this episode of "Trouble in BYU Paradise."

David: Hahahhaha ah man you need to put that on your blog.

Me: She just came back down the stairs and went the same direction he went earlier. For a sequel episode I could follow them and see the drama that ensues. That's a good idea. I'll do that. I seriously have not been able to study because I was watching them. Sorry for distracting you too.

David: Man, I want to know the story.

Me: On a whole different scale of drama that really annoying engaged couple who were kissing at my table yesterday just walked in. Stay tuned. 

Me: But not really because I can't see them anymore. 

David: Lol you should start a broadcast. 

Now I have no safe place to study anymore. There are too many distractions at home, like David and the internet, and there are too many distractions at school, like watching troubled couples.