Yup

So my dating life is so pathetic that my home teacher is magnifying his calling by helping me get a date. He talked to this guy--we'll call him Chuck--and told him he should ask me out. That was two or three weeks ago. About an hour ago, I was taking the trash out to the dumpster and my home teacher came sliding on the ice toward me, and took over my chore. What a gentleman! He stopped to talk for a little while, and who should come sliding toward us next but Chuck! He stayed for a about a minute before he went off to his apartment. Then my home teacher said, "Oh, sorry! Was I interfering with flirting time?" Pah! I just laughed at him

I was supposed to do something with a friend while I was down in Utah. We talked on Wednesday and planned to do something on Friday. Friday came, and I got a text from him in the afternoon saying he didn't realize his family had so much going on that day, but he asked if he could call me later. I told him yes and asked if he still wanted to do something later or if he was busy all day. I'm still waiting for a reply.

Thankful for Thanksgiving

I'm back in Rexburg, and I'm already freaking out. I need to get started on homework! Also, I'm afraid of throwing up because I was around sick people all week, and Danielle was puking all night Friday. Dangit. I always get sick during finals.

I had a great time in Utah, though. Here are some pics:

Ryan slid through the chair feet first and then realized he couldn't pull his head through.

On Friday, we went to see the Christmas lights on Temple Square.

Brianna got cold and had to wear Grandpa's shirt. She put it on and yelled, "I'm ugly!" And then she would only wear when we were in dark areas. The second she thought she was being noticed, the old man shirt came off.

This could be me in a couple days.

I went for walks with my grandpa, and this is what we saw. Utah feels much warmer than Idaho.

We went and saw the christmas lights on temple square last night! I'll post more pics when i get back to my computer in rexburg.

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This is the first time my cousin Ian hasn't cried when i've held him! Hooray!

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My cousin brianna's japanese eraser collection.

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Danielle and I are in Utah and excited for the Thanksgiving par-tay tomorrow! Where are you?

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Things I Can't Wait for That will Happen This Year

• To get out of Rexburg tomorrow (and forever, but that comes later)
• To see my relatives
• Thanksgiving dinner
• Pie
• Thanksgiving leftovers
• The Christmas lights at Temple Square
• No more editing papers of people who shouldn't be English majors
• To inflate my Christmas tree
• Christmas!
• To be home with my family
• To drive my car
• Ping pong

Ghost Town

Rexburg is a ghost town during Thanksgiving break. I'm on a walk and it's eerily quiet. Oh yeah and we finally got a legit snow. :(

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Youngest Child Syndrome

If you haven't watched The Fuplers on YouTube, you are missing out. So funny! Here's an episode I just watched:



Ah, the youngest child syndrome. I remember when Josh was little and one of us would "barely touch him," which would send him dramatically flying across the room and onto the floor where he would yell until his assailant was punished. But I can't really remember how much of that is accurate.

I love my little brother! Look how much he has changed over the last few years:

2004

2009

Photo by Laura

He's working on his Associate's now, and then he's planning on transferring to a university. He's thinking about being a dentist, but I think he should be a graphic designer. I've always considered him artistic and creative, and I think he would be good in that field. But dentist is cool too--lots of perks and nifty gadgets. I'm excited to see where his life takes him.

Wish me Luck

The first five pages of my research paper are due by midnight, and I still don't know what I'm going to write about. It has to be persuasive, and it has to be about stereotypes. I was going to write about parent-teen relationships in teen films and whether or not those portrayals affect parent-teen relationships in society, but I don't know if I can prove it either way. Any ideas?

Here are the things I have to finish in the next three weeks:

• Write a 10-page research paper on stereotypes
• Revise a 5-page paper on a psychoanalytical approach to Richard Connell's "The Most Dangerous Game"
• Invent a new religion
• Organize and present an elaborate group presentation on my invented religion
• Write a 10-page paper on my invented religion
• Interview my parents on changes that have occurred in our family in the last three generations
• Write a 3-page paper on those changes
• Read about 120 pages of early American literature
• Write a T-analysis on an early American story
• Write a 5-page paper on an early American story
• Take a really long, awful write-on test about early American literature when there's no way in hades I'm going to be able to remember the billions of authors we have looked at since midterm
• Publish a literary journal
• Edit at least three 10-page research papers
• Write a résumé and cover letter
• Write/create a photographic essay
• Take an essay test
• White glove

Once I've checked off everything on my list, my soul will feel light and glad for the two and a half weeks I'll be home for Christmas. Alas, a dark, billowy raincloud will be stalking me during that break--the dread of winter semester. It's sure to be a doozy. I'll be taking three 400-level English classes and Visual Media, which I hope you don't have to be artistic for. I will also start donating plasma twice a week--I would do it now, but I have to wait 6 months from the time I was potentially exposed to Mad Cow Disease during my British Literary Tour. My Visiting Teacher also suggested I become a copy editor for the Scroll because they're always looking for people, and it will be good experience. I was going to apply for the Writing Center, but it's not looking that promising. I'm also going to look at tutoring positions. I know I'm an idiot for waiting till my last semester to get involved, but there isn't much I can do about it now. For some reason, I just want to cram my last semester full of worthwhile activities. I'm even thinking about taking a cooking class. I guess I just want to feel more productive. I'll let you know how it goes.

Oh, and if anyone wants to get me boots (or these) for Christmas, that would be amazing! The only shoes I have that cover my entire feet are my converse, and they have holes in them now. They're fine for now because Rexburg has yet to be buried in snow, but when I fly into Idaho Falls in January, I'm going to be needing some more appropriate foot gear.

I <3 Fun.

Yes, Nate Ruess wears capris (some people criticized him for that in their comments on YouTube), but he's Nate Ruess, so I say he can do whatever he wants. Every celebrity has their trademark, right? Plus, can I just say that he's really good looking? I don't think the capris are really an issue. Kirsten and I went to Fun's show in Portland, Oregon on my birthday a few months back, and it was pretty sweet. First, we went to Music Millennium to meet the band and get autographed copies of their first album, Aim and Ignite. Then we got pictures with Nate Ruess and Jack Antonoff once we got to the Hawthorne:

I have to say that Nate didn't seem very excited to be at the show, wandering around the venue with a long face, but he made up for it when he got on stage.

I really like the piñatas on the music video, but I'm not sure how I feel about all the girls chasing them. It just doesn't feel very original, and it doesn't even really seem to fit the song. I realize many music videos are completely random (No One Knows by Queens of the Stoneage comes to mind), but since they were clearly sticking with the "pretty girls" theme, it just feels off to have the band running away from all these girls when they're singing "I wish all the pretty girls were shaking me down." I was really expecting to see some chick decked out in '80s garb. And "all the pretty girls can't measure to you"--where's that girl?  Oh well. I still enjoy the video, mostly because I love Fun, and I love watching them perform.

Fun has recently recorded a new song for the holidays called "Believe In Me." If they get 40,000 fans on Facebook by December 1st, we get the song for free! So click here to become a fan even if you aren't sure how you feel about them. You will love them. And if you don't, I still get a free song, and you can denounce your fan status on December 2nd. Call it your Christmas present to me.

All Questions, No Answers

Sometimes I feel sick to my stomach when I think about the future. Am I the only one? I just get scared. How am I supposed to take care of myself? How am I supposed to find a real job? Am I really good enough to write professionally? Do I even want to write professionally? What am I going to write? Who am I going to write for? Where am I supposed to go? I've been going to school my entire life, and I've BS'd my way through a good portion of it. 141 days till graduation, and I don't feel prepared at all.

I miss summer and feeling like I'm part of something:




I hate being cold.

I have a zit forming just under my bottom lip.

Craigo's is having a $5.49 pizza buffet tonight. Nothing like smothering your worries with savory tomato sauce and artery-clogging cheese! You in?

Fat Lard

I eat everything in sight. I'm punishing myself with a diet. I call it the don't eat everything in sight diet, and it starts tomorrow. And no more candy (once my Reese's and York Peppermint Patties are gone, that is).

Where the Stupid Things are

Tonight was Two Dollar Tuesday at the Paramount, so Danielle, Cari, and I went and saw Where the Wild Things are. When I first saw the preview for this movie, I got really excited because I loved that book as a kid. Here's the trailer:




The movie opens with a nice little tune hummed by a sweet boy 
named Max, who suddenly transforms into a devil child in a wolf 
costume running through the house, yelling, growling, and tackling 
the poor dog! Later, Max stands on the table in his costume, folds 
his arms, glares down at his mother, and shouts, "Woman! Feed 
me!" Then his mom angrily chases him around the house, and once 
she catches him, he bites her on the shoulder and runs out the door, 
down the street, and through the woods. He conveniently finds a 
boat near the water's edge, and he sails away to the Wild Things' 
island. By this point, I was pretty confident this was going to be a 
weird movie. 

Call me crazy, but I expected a movie based on a children's book 
to be a little more upbeat, but it seemed like every five minutes, 
there were angry monsters or people throwing temper tantrums, 
yelling, and, in one instance, ripping the arm off a giant chicken. 
But don't worry--they replaced the arm with a stick. 

I think the weirdest part is when Max is running away from an angry
Wild Thing, and KW, the only happy Wild Thing has Max climb in her mouth, where he hides in her stomach until the angry one has left. KW and Max then have a touching conversation while Max is still in her 
stomach. Finally, KW pulls a slimy Max out of her mouth. How 
tender.

I have to admit that I laughed during some of these strange moments, but mostly I was just in shock. As we were walking out of the theater, I overheard a conversation that went something like this:

Girl 1: Oh, you saw Where the Wild Things are? Was it good?
Girl 2: I really liked the cinematography.

I think that's polite for "The movie really sucked, but I should 
probably say something good about it."

I rate this move: bizarre and depressing.

Twitterpated

Dear lovebirds,

You are in the library, surrounded by people trying to do their homework. Maybe you didn't notice. The library is busy during this time of day, and people often struggle to find a free computer. The two of you are taking up two computers, but, rather than looking at the screens, you are gazing into each other's eyes. You are facing each other, knees touching, hand in hand, faces three inches apart, whispering about how attracted you are to each other, and occasionally reaching up to stroke the other's face. You are also sitting five feet away from me--just on the other side of the table. Please stop.

Sincerely,
Me

Stumbling

First of all, I want to say to my friend Shanae: you sang a beautiful solo tonight, and my roommate Dorthy was so impressed, she said, and I quote, "That girl needs to make a CD!"

Second of all, I don't know what to write about...

Third of all, have you ever heard of StumbleUpon? Basically, you check your interests on this site, click the "Stumble" button, and it finds random websites that you'll hopefully like. Here was something I stumbled upon today:

I'm going to have to try that someday. It reminds me of certain friends of mine who used to stare at the ceiling with feigned interest to see how many people they could get to look.

Meet Cloud Nine

Today's version of procrastination. Aren't we cute?


Make your Stick Figure Family at FreeFlashToys.com

The Way Wii Are

This semester, Natalie bought a Wii from her friend for a hundred bucks. When she first got it, we wasted all our time creating a million little miis. We even  made all the characters from The Office and our own scary version of the seven dwarfs (I felt like creating one midget, and before you knew it, we had seven.) We gave our own characters Wii-appropriate names, such as Miigan, Natalii, and Carii. We also have a Native American named Pociihontas. Natalie recently ordered Wii Fit Plus, and now we entertain ourselves with hula hoop and obstacle course competitions.

Miigan is excited to flap her wings!

When you see this on the screen:

you look like this:

or this:

Wii also have DDR.

Come play!

Baby Hands

While working at Jansport during the summer of 2008, my friends and I used to ask a "question of the day" to keep ourselves entertained. In order to consume a greater amount of time, these questions were meant to be as thought-provoking as possible. One day I asked, "If you met someone who was a perfect match for you--the only thing wrong with this person is his or her baby hands--would you date them?" For clarity, we're talking not talking about little hands, but actual infant hands on the ends of average-sized arms. What's interesting is that when I've asked guys this question, they usually answer positively, while girls generally squirm until they shamefully admit they would not date a wonderful guy with baby hands. My guess is this distinction between genders comes from a typical woman's desire to feel protected by her significant other. How is your boyfriend supposed to save you from muggers and rapists if his fist isn't large enough to even bruise his opponent?

This year, Burger King came out with a new commercial that, for us, was very nostalgic:




Would you date someone with baby hands? Let me know on the poll!

Phattest Kids on Campus

Hello. My name is Megan, and I have a food addiction. Last fall, when this picture was taken, Natalie and I rediscovered our mutual love of food and dubbed ourselves the "fattest kids on campus." Then we remembered how cool we were and altered the spelling with a p-h.

Tower of Terror

Two summers ago, my family and I went to Disneyland. During the trip, I discovered one of my new favorite rides--California Adventure's appropriately named Tower of Terror. I rode first with Danielle, Josh, and my cousin Michael, who, as you can tell from the picture, has nerves of steel. Josh was just faking nerves. We stepped onto the "elevator" and watched the scene in front of us. I honestly can't remember the story--I was too busy tingling with fear. I just remember getting higher and higher, watching the people on the screen disappear, and dropping. My stomach flipped upside down, forcing record level screams from my lungs. When the elevator started rising again, I realized that, during the drop, I had reached over and was now clutching Josh's pant leg. I released my grip just as we began to fall again and instead, I wrapped my fingers around the bar next to me, crushing Josh's hand. It was a terrifying experience, indeed, but exhilarating all the same.

I couldn't find the picture from when Danielle and I rode the Tower of Terror with my dad, but, for some reason, the wait in line was much scarier the second time.

Banana

My roommate Natalie went to an emergency preparedness store today and bought a giant can of banana chips. There were directions on the back of the can.

If this weren't enough, there was a typo in the directions.

I would have expected them to catch that one.

Distant Dreamer

I normally don't remember my dreams, but I remember last night's--most of it, anyway.

I was in an airplane with Stuart and Danielle, I think. The plane landed, but instead of slowing down once we hit the ground, it started accelerating. Pretty soon, the plane was off the runway and speeding along the grass. Meanwhile, rather than fear for our lives, my siblings and I were wandering around the plane, peeking out windows, feeling more excited than scared. To avoid crashing and dying in a raging inferno, the pilot took off again until he could figure out what was wrong with the plane. It was a really shaky takeoff: the plane was wobbling back and forth, and we flew low for a while, nearly getting tangled in some telephone wires, which, if you ask me, were a little too close to the airport in the first place. I vaguely remember something about parachutes. Maybe the pilot was about to abandon us or something.

That was it.

I always seem to wake up from my dreams right before imminent death. Just saying.

Just for fun, I Googled "dream meanings" and tried to interpret my dream with dreammoods.com. All the "symbols" in my dream seem to point to high goals. At the same time, however, being in danger signifies "substantial losses in business and discouraging prospects in love" and that I need to be more careful. Parachutes mean it's time to "bail out of a situation." So I think my dream means that I am going to bail out of Rexburg in April (am I obsessed with graduating or what?) and follow my dreams. I'll just ignore the being in danger part.

Enjoy "Distant Dreamer" by Duffy:

What not to Wear

I saw this on campus, and it wasn't even Halloween.

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Bad Day to be a Terrorist

I'm sure you've all heard about the shooting at Fort Hood yesterday. The psychiatrist, of all people! He's Muslim, too, so of course they have to figure out whether or not he's a terrorist, especially since someone with a screen name very similar to this guy's real name has been online comparing a suicide bomber to a soldier who dies to save his comrades. They are both sacrificing their lives for a greater cause, apparently.

Here's the article I read: http://www.latimes.com/news/la-na-fort-hood-shootings6-2009nov06,0,4341651.story?page=1.

In a meager attempt to explain the shooting, the article mentions that this psychiatrist, Major Nidal Malik Hasan, was about to face his "worst nightmare"--being deployed to Iraq. I admit I don't know that much about the military, but isn't there another way of getting out of an assignment? Excuse my morbidity, but if nothing else, he could have shot himself. Why kill all those people? Yeah, you don't have to go to Iraq, but what you're about to face for shooting up the world's largest military base. ... Man, I'd hate to be in your shoes. I'd be wishing the lady who shot me had better aim.


I also read this article:
 http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33712858/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/, which is more comprehensive. It says Hasan was being deployed to Afghanistan, not Iraq (I don't know if that changes the story at all). It also says that witnesses reported Hasan shouting "Allahu Akbar," which is Arabic for "God is great." I watched a video on radical Muslims in my Religion and Society class this week, and while most Muslims are normal people, these radicals are a very angry, hateful group who think America wants to take over the world--Islam specifically--and they want to destroy us for Allah's sake. Supposedly, God wants them to spread Islam. They teach their children to hate western civilization and that it's an honor to die for this "Jihad," which involves killing the enemy, aka all non-Islamic people or even Muslims who get in their way. So the fact that Hasan was shouting "Allahu Akbar" before he began shooting makes me very suspicious. Why would he yell that if he wasn't a radical? Does he have any idea how pissed off the U.S. gets at terrorists? 

He got shot four times and is still kicking. Sucks to be him.

Here's a clip from the documentary we watched in class. If you have time, you can watch the whole thing on YouTube. It's called "Obsession," and it's pretty crazy.

A Lesson in Happiness from Nathanial Hawthorne

It was the 2001-2002 school year--my junior (and least favorite) year of high school. I was taking honors English from Mr. Bowen, a string bean of a man with a horse's teeth and a poofy mustache. A track star named Danny sat either in front of me or behind me, often eating a small can of Vienna sausages. We were reading The Scarlet Letter.

I must admit, I accessed my fair share of SparkNotes that year. Actually, now that I think of it, the only book I remember finishing in that class was Of Mice and Men. I was such a good student. I can't remember all the books we were supposed to read, but I remember being bored out of my mind. The most dreadful book, by far, was The Scarlet Letter.

Now I'm taking Early American Literature, and I'm reading The Scarlet Letter once more. It still isn't my favorite book, but I must say it's more tolerable than I remember. I think I can appreciate it more, or at least understand it, now that I am better acquainted with the stylistic usage of language common in nineteenth century literature. High school students should really be reading something a little more action-packed. I mean, I'm nine chapters into this story and so far a woman has been publicly scorned as an adulteress, and her child is kind of weird. I did find something interesting today, however.

Reverend Dimmesdale's health is failing, and he refuses medical treatment, insisting he would rather die and leave behind the earthly woes of his sins, taking the spiritual woes to the judgement bar than to have the doctor, Roger Chillingworth, waste his skills by healing him. Chillingworth misunderstands, assuming Dimmesdale is simply eager to be reunited with his Creator. Dimmesdale corrects him, saying, "Nay....Were I worthier to walk there, I could be better content to toil here."

I found that simple, yet profound. If you are living a moral life, you are happier. Wow. Now that's deep. And while I sound sarcastic, I'm not. That's the most beautiful sentence I've read in The Scarlett Letter so far.

I'm a Machine!

In my Family Interactions class, we were recently discussing education, or gender roles, or something--I honestly can't remember--but this guy expressed his opinion that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints places a man's education above that of a woman's. Needless to say, he was verbally mauled by several girls in the class. Sorry, but I have to agree with him.

In the September 2007 New Era the question was asked, "What is more important for women after they get married: to finish an education or to start a family?"

The answer:

"President Gordon B. Hinckley has often stressed getting a good education. To the women of the Church he says that education 'is the latchkey to success in life,' but in the next breath he reminds us of President David O. McKay's teaching, 'No other success can compensate for failure in the home' ("To the Women of the Church," Ensign, Nov. 2003, 115). While education is important, it shouldn't displace the importance of children and family--for either men or women. Your choice to have children does not have to exclude finishing your education, or vice versa. A classroom is not the only place to gain an education. Many part-time or distance study options are available to you if you want to finish your education. Even if you have completed the degree you were seeking, you can always become more educated through personal study and experience."

So, according to the church, education is important as long as it doesn't interfere with having children. It does say this is true for both men and women, but who does the church encourage to stay home with the children? Women. Who, if anyone, is going to have to sacrifice their education or at least put it on hold? Women. Who's going to bring home the bacon? Men. Who's education is more important? Men's. I'm not disagreeing with this reasoning. I think that if a man and a woman are married and have agreed the wife will stay home and rear their children while the husband goes off to work every day, then his education is naturally a higher priority. The wife can seek education as time and money allow, but she doesn't need to have a college education to be a stay-at-home mom. It's not a matter of whether or not her education is important--it is. But it comes second to the breadwinner's education. How many times do women in the church hear that they need to have an education "to fall back on" if for some reason their husband is unable to provide for the family? Thus, a woman's education becomes a plan B.

Obviously the church supports education--a great deal of tithing money goes to supporting church-affiliated schools, and General Authorities clearly urge all, regardless of gender, to seek higher education. The importance of a woman's education is specifically addressed; however, more often than not, I feel like I am being urged to get married and make babies. Families are wonderful, and I am very excited to have my own someday, but sometimes I wish that, every once in a while, someone would get up in a Relief Society meeting and talk about careers and how women can make a difference in the world in ways other than being a wife and mother. Maybe they do, but it doesn't happen often enough if I can't think of a single instance. It seems like every visiting teaching message, if it isn't about appreciating Relief Society, discusses the importance of motherhood. I completely agree! But what am I if I'm not a mother?

For a while, there was a poster on campus that I saw every day on my way to class. In big letters, it said, "Preparing for the Future..." and it had pictures of a young woman playing with her baby and another young woman planting a flower. What about the unmarried women who graduate from BYU-I? What about the LDS woman who never marries at all? What is her role in society? I'm sure she can plant flowers too, but why can't the school add a third woman who is dressed in a business suit and holding a clipboard in her hand? In my FHE group alone, there are twice as many girls as there are guys. Only two of those guys are neither engaged nor dating someone. A similar ratio has existed with every BYU-I approved apartment complex I have lived in. Chances are, a significant amount of women will leave BYU-I without rocks on their fingers, and those women are not any less valuable because they are not yet mothers. In fact, they will have many opportunities opened to them because they don't have families to care for.

I guess my main point is that I am more than just a baby machine. Do I want to fall in love and have a family? Of course, I do. Do I feel like that is all I'm capable of doing as a woman. No. I have no intention of sitting around on my hope chest, waiting for Mr. Right to come along. I hope he shows up someday, but until then, I'm excited for my post-grad adventures of finding and working a "real" job and finding my own way to contribute to society.

P.S. My title is a tribute to Buster Bluth and his hand.


Check out this video too. It's an amazing Buster montage, but it won't 
let me embed it. Lame.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJqjLN9wAmU

A Cop, Bearing Gifts

My eyes look much better today. Thanks for asking. Yesterday I was worried my eyes' gruesomeness would strike fear into my peers' hearts. Today I no longer feel obligated to avoid eye contact.

On Sunday night, I went for a walk around campus with my roommates Natalie and Megan. As we were crossing a particular street, a police car turned the corner and cut us off halfway through the sidewalk. A police officer poked his out the window and said to us, "Good job; you guys are walking inside the lines of the crosswalk. Are any of you soccer fans?" Of course my natural reaction is panic. When does a cop ever stop to make chit chat without an ulterior motive (i.e. "Nice weather we're having. Do you think it'll snow? By the way, you parked nose first instead of backing into one of these weird parking spaces we recently invented in Rexburg. Enjoy your ticket.)? We were walking after dark, and we are girls, and people seem to think that's a bad combination even in Rexburg where the cops spend the majority of their time writing parking tickets and coaxing herds of cattle off the road, so maybe he would mention that. Or maybe he wasn't a real cop at all. I had just watched Hocus Pocus the night before and the kids were trying to tell this cop about the Sanderson sisters' terrorizing the neighborhood, but the cop just scared them off. Then his girlfriend came out of the liquor store and the couple laughed at the naive children who thought he was a real cop.

So the police officer asks if we like soccer. Natalie's response: "Well, we'd like to get out of the middle of the road." Great. Now we're smart-mouthing the cop. Surprisingly, he just said, "Well, I was going to give you a soccer ball, but never mind," and started driving away. He turned around when he heard Megan protesting and yelling at Natalie for losing our prize. When the cop came back, he somewhat sarcastically asked us if we were afraid of cops. I politely reminded him that cops write tickets. "Not today!" he said.

Apparently, the Rexburg police were promoting pedestrian safety by giving away soccer balls to people they saw doing good things, like properly using a sidewalk.

We were pretty excited to have a shiny new toy and happily finished our walk. When we got back to Cloud Nine (Apt. 9's nickname, if you didn't know), our other roommate Cari was standing outside talking to a friend, and Natalie thought she would demonstrate her soccer skills by kicking the ball it high into the air. From where we were standing, we thought it landed right on top of Greenbrier's flat roof. We all cursed Natalie's name as she laughed hysterically. Full of doubt, I ran around to the other side of our apartment, meeting along the way a couple of love birds who were rather impressed that we were able to kick a ball over the building. Phew! We still had our ball, and we didn't kill the couple who happened to be walking by.

Bloody Eyes

I wore fake eyelashes on Halloween, and apparently I'm allergic to the glue because this is what my eyes looked like when I woke up the next morning. I took this picture today, so, as you can see, they are still just as lovely. At the end of the summer I wore fake eyelashes for one of Laura's photo shoots, and my eyes went bloodshot a couple days later and got continually worse during the week. I thought that I had somehow contracted double pinkeye, but the doctor said it was a new symptom to my fall allergies that I developed only a year earlier. Lame. He was probably right because my eyes stayed red as long as my nose was stuffy, but it looks like pollen (or whatever I'm allergic too) wasn't the only contributor to my bloody eyes. I just hope they clear up faster than they did last time.

Happy Halloween!

A witch, two super heroes, and a disco ball...

Look! I ran into my old friend, Seth!