banjoy

Let me tell you a story. 

Once upon a time, I lived in Utah. 

And in Utah, at BYU, there is a thing called ward prayer. 

It's a nice little arrangement where on Sunday nights you go and have prayer with your ward. Maybe a song. Maybe an activity. But mostly prayer. 

My last year in Utah, I didn't go much. It was at least a block away, meaning I would have to walk (blech!). 

But I did go once. 

I remember walking there seeing a young man in my ward carrying what appeared to be a banjo case. 

My heart did palpitations. 

Once the activity had begun, he extracted the banjo from the case and played "Come thou fount of every blessing."

My heart melted. 

Had he not been 18 and about to go on a mission, I would have proposed marriage to him right there on the spot. 

Instead, I just gained a great love for the beautiful instrument of the banjo. 

Most people don't understand it. 

I find it incredibly attractive. 

It doesn't make sense...but I like it all the sudden

Please don't get me wrong.

I still don't understand this song. It makes no sense to my head at all.

Why is it hard to look right at him?

How did you miss him "so bad" before you met him?

I really don't get it.

However, apparently this song is popular. Whatever. (that's an understatement. You all know it is)

So, apparently that means that really cool people end up covering it.

And all the sudden I kind of like it.

But let's be honest. It's only because it's Jimmy and Nate and Jack and Andrew.

Girl (or boy. I don't know who's reading this), please.

I got bruises (alright)

Okay, first, you should probably listen to this song while you read this post. Because it's what I was listening to while I was writing it. And it's a pretty awesome song. And by "pretty awesome," I mean that I love it.

I've always been a little bit...morbid?

But I feel like if I'm in pain, everyone should be able to tell. Not because I'm complaining about it incessantly, no. I want an outward physical proof.

Like bruises.

However, this is not always the case. I actually don't bruise very easily on most of my body. (Except for my upper thighs. Which people hardly ever see.)

So, yesterday, when I was running and inadvertently jumped into a hole, heard my ankle pop, and went down, that is obviously what I thought about (after, of course, the blinding pain running through my foot and "how am I going to get back home").

It hasn't really bruised yet, but I know it's coming. There's some discoloration, but it's deep.

So, at least through the pain and torn ligament, there will be something to show for it.

Happy Birthday, Harry!

Do you know what yesterday was? It's my sister Jeannine's birthday. And my grandparents' anniversary. So that's really cool.

Not to downplay those two momentous occasions, because I love my sister and my grandparents very much, but it was also Harry Potter's birthday.

And I felt like there weren't enough posts on my blog devoted to him or his journies (or Ron and Neville. You know I'm goin' be puttin' those two visions in here). SO! Here we go.

Tears. Every time. 

Watch especially from 1:48-2:22

You know what? I don't even care that I just stuck about 7 hours worth of HP stuff up here. It's obviously needed. The world doesn't have enough Harry Potter. Ever. We ALWAYS need more. 

Dream Carrie

I don't recollect if I've ever mentioned Dream Carrie on this lovely little blog before, but if I haven't, boy is she a sight to behold.

I'm pretty sure that Dream Carrie is the antithesis of Real Carrie. All of the things that I don't do in real life (drugs, drinking, teen pregnancy, etc.), Dream Carrie has done.

She's not a very moral person.

She's also apparently not very smart. Let me tell you why.

Preface:

A couple of weeks ago, my parents went on a cruise to Alaska to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary. They left me here in Oklahoma to take care of their house. I don't know when the trash gets picked up (I promise that will be relevant in a moment).

Actual Story:

I, as Dream Carrie (while living an oddly normal day, with no drug busts or robberies), was taking care of my parents house, and trying to remember the day that the trash man comes to take the rubbish away.

Sadly, I realized all too late that the trash was actually being picked up as I pondered on the time it would come. So, I naturally ran around like a maniac trying to gather all of the trash in the house, put it in my trunk and speed race towards the trash truck so that my trash wouldn't be left to soil my parents' garage (this is actually an activity that was a regular occurance in my house growing up. Understandable why Dream Carrie would follow that train of thought). However, in my haste to follow the trash man, a wonderous savoir came to my rescue. A hero in a red vest and an awesome car.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Marty McFly and Doc Brown drove up in a Delorean to take me back in time so that I wouldn't miss the trash man.

It may have been the greatest moment of my dream life.

Until I woke up and realized that Dream Carrie could have just given her trash to the time traveling duo to fuel their flux capacitor.

Stupid Dream girl. All those hypothetical drugs must have fried her brains.

The big question of my life

Ok. I am not one for questioning Disney movies, believe me. I don't care that as soon as Ariel's head is out of the water her hair is dry. Or that Phillipe can show Belle where Maurice is, even though he left him in the woods far before he ever made it to the Beast's castle. I never yelled at Jasmine that, since Aladdin has lied to her over and over, she should stop trusting him.

However, there is one question that I have never been able to answer. Pocahontas, HOW DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? Seriously. He just shows up and all of the sudden native Americans don't speak Creek/Cherokee/Sioux? No. They speak perfect English. Oh, and also the English explorers don't have accents. I just find this whole language thing so confusing.

And also, how does she run? Ouch, dude.

Sarah and Charlie

Broken Arrow School let out less than a month ago, and, I must admit, I am a little sad. I'm not in school anymore, so I don't have to go to it, but I feel like I lost some friends when it let out.

Every day, on my way to work, I drive past Sequoyah Middle School (I know that's not how you spell Sequoyah, but that's how the middle school spells it. So, yeah). When school was in, I drive past at the same time that the kids are walking to school.

Every day for five months, I drove past the same two kids. A boy, probably about 13, and a girl, I'm assuming about 12. I never met them in real life, but, during the 10-15 seconds we spent together every Monday thru Friday, I felt like I got to know them. Or, at least, the them I made up in my head.

Their names, I decided, were Sarah and Charlie. She looked like a Sarah and I just hoped his name was Charlie. I really like that for little boys. They are siblings, is what I think. I could tell when they were having a good day, they would walk together. Not in extreme conversation, but talking. When they were having a bad day, they wouldn't walk together. Sarah would walk about 10 feet ahead of Charlie, and they would both look a little surly.

I just really liked passing them. They were adorable. I hope that they were in sixth and seventh grade, so that next year I can see Sarah and Charlie again.

I'm not a stalker.

Little Birds

On my front porch, there is a wreath. Inside that wreath, there is a nest. Inside that nest, there are two tiny newly hatched baby birds. And they are very very sweet.

There is one problem though. As much as my family and I love them and are excited that they are there on our porch and sharing our living space, The babies' mama does not love us. Every time we open the door to leave or come to the house, she quickly flies away to the tree in the front yard and yells at us.

However, the reason she hates me is not a bird reason. It is a universal mother reason. The other day, I was coming home from work and saw that she, again, had flown quickly away. Feeling bad for putting out a new mother, I apologized the whole way from my car to the door. During my apologies, though, I inadvertently woke up her sleeping babies, making her even more mad at me.

You do not wake up a new mother's sleeping baby. They don't like that.

Because... I know that.

I feel like we all need to remember the glory that is this video:

Boom. 

Adventures in Stock Photos.

It's possible that this is going to be the beginning of a series of posts. 

I have spent a lot of time over the last few years looking for stock images. 

I don't know if you guys have ever looked at stock photo sites, but they can be pretty entertaining. 

Most of the time, you get what you ask for. 

Sometimes, however, you get what you don't ask for. You get what no one has ever asked for. 

And sometimes, you are just super entertained. 

So, for a little while, I've been collecting some of my favorites.

I thought I'd share them with you. 

the search criteria for most of these was business. 

 This was a fun one to find. I asked for business, and this popped up. I looked at it and said "he is an attractive business man." Thank goodness that is the actual description of this photo. 

Of course I'm going to add a clock photo. I just love how incredibly terrified this 17 year old young man looks upon realizing that it is 7:34. GASP!

 This makes perfect sense to me. Why would you not want to sleep on the hard cement floor of an empty workspace? It's perfect for your back. 

This is how I walk in to my place of work every morning. With ballet. Because that makes sense for non-ballerinas. 

 In case you were wondering about what a disected rose looks like, here's your chance. Ta-daaaa!

 I also build the Death Star while at work. out of rounded Jenga blocks (I'm so good at that game!)

 Harry Potter. Enough said. 

 The description for this photo was "a man in a white suit." I would like to amend that to "a bum in a white suit"

 Alright. The next two were my favorites. I could not decide which one was the best. I couldn't decide. These are the best things I've ever seen. However, you must understand how much love I have for these two. 

First, this one was captioned "business man and business woman-handshake." Really? I believe that the most important aspect of this picture was left out. The fact that the "business woman" IS A GHOST!!!!!!!!!! She's not there. She's mist. She's vapor. She's dead. Wow. 

 And last, but absolutely NOT least is the following. Because, of course, when you think of businesses, you think of DOGS IN BOWLER HATS. What else would you think of? Absolutely nothing. This is the epitome of business. Obviously. 

Inappropriate for the workplace

At work, since I'm a graphic designer and spend most of my day looking at a computer screen, I generally like to have something to listen to while I'm working. 

Since there are two other people in my office, we all have headphones in. 

Most of the time I'm listening to music. 

Sometimes I listen to scriptures. 

Today, I listened to Harry Potter. Number 7. It's my favorite one. 

Apparently, I was also very emotional today. 

When Harry walks around Number 4 Privet Drive reminiscing about his childhood, I was choked up. 

When Dudly tells Harry that he doesn't think he's a waste of space, I was close to tears.

By the time they talk about George's ear, I was fighting them back. 

Luckily, no one in my office noticed this sad display of true love for J.K. Rowling. 

I think that would have been difficult to explain. 

What the blogger.

Here's the deal. I'm all for making websites look good. Innovation is absolutely fantastic.
You know what I'm not all for? FORCING CHANGE ON PEOPLE!
Let's just remove agency from people. Thanks, social media. I appreciate it. I'm glad that blogger took away what I was used to. Facebook's gearing up to make my life a living timeline.
I just wish that they would at least give me some warning.
Or give me a website I can navigate, at least.
Yeesh.

These are my thoughts

1. I don't like caraway seeds. It's not that I truly hate the taste (although it's not my favorite), it's because "Caraway" inevitably (yes, Alison, I did just wiggle my toes) reminds me of the Carrows. You know, the evil sibling duo from Harry Potter, of whom I'm certain that, had there been more character development, I would have hated as much as Doloris Umbridge. And I really hate Umbridge.

2. I received a HAND WRITTEN thank you note today. From who am I receiving notes that have me so excited? Why from my very favorite company of all time. The wonderful world of Poppin. They just wanted to thank me for my order. I think my affection has moved from a crush to down right obsession. It's a good thing I'm not currently in New York, or I would be the first ever company stalker. I love Poppin. There. I said it.

3. I want my hair to grow faster.

4. I'm officially spending my Memorial Day weekend in Utah. Or, I will be when I book the ticket. But I for sure have the days off. Woot.

5. I'm planning on moving into an apartment above a shop on Main Street in BA. You guys have no idea how excited this makes me. I just need to go talk to some people. And find out how much it costs. And do it to it, Lars.

6. How amazing was Elder Holland's talk on Saturday? Am I right, am I right?

7. If you ever have the opportunity to watch general conference, play laser tag, play fugitive in downtown Tulsa, and hang out with your sister all in one weekend, JUMP ON IT.

The milk chronicles

My dad doesn't drink milk plain.

He never has. His reasoning is "I was weaned once."

He drinks chocolate milk. He drinks hot chocolate. He puts milk in cereal. He eats all other kinds of dairy.

But, I have never, in all of my 23.5 years seen my dad sit down and drink a glass of white milk.

It's odd, I know, but lovable.

My mom, however, can't remember this fact. If we're ever eating something where milk is complementary, she asks my dad if he too would like a glass.

When he gives her his flabbergasted face and says "No," she always says "Oh, yeah. I forgot you're not a fan of milk."

sometimes you come home and realize you've had pen on your face for a while

and you don't really care.

The real question shouldn't be "is it the right length?" it should be "Carrie, do you know how to use a ruler?"

I subscribe to the school of thought (and may be the only subscriber) that there are two different kinds of rulers. (Not rulers of people or rulers of countries. But rulers that you measure with) Those with a void and those without. This is my word, void. Let me explain.

Some rulers start at the start of an inch, and some have a void before the inch starts. See?

So, today, when I was measuring paper and couldn't figure out why a quarter of an inch looked like so much more, it was not because I was stupid enough to not know what a quarter of an inch looked like. It was because I always forget how to use voided rulers.

Dang.

A couple of fancy texts for your enjoyment.

I received this one during Sacrament meeting. I almost cried, I was trying so hard not to laugh.

Sometimes, Jeannine and I are really cool

This one just made work so happy today.

So many of my texts are about psych. That's why they're glorious.

5 ways to run a 5k... and finish it

Starting off, if you haven't run consistently for 5 years and someone comes to you and asks if you want to do a 5k in a week, the answer should probably not be yes.

1. If you do decide to do it, though, there are several things that can make it easier. For one, get the right music. This is not the time to be showing off your amazing music sense. Nobody cares. This is the time to play the crap songs you pretend you don't listen to. Because, seriously, the club CANNOT even handle you right now.

2. Don't eat right before you go running. If you eat a granola bar, you will feel like throwing up. I speak form experience.

3. It's ok to yell at people in your head. Just not out loud. If you feel like you need to tell the 75 year-old power walker to BACK OFF. Go ahead. Just don't voice it.

4. You should have a goal. It doesn't have to be a big one. A good goal is to finish. That's a lofty goal. An attainable goal.

5. Lastly, you should have a cheerleader. Mine was a straw giraffe I named Stanley.

Every time I ran past him, he would shake his little straw neck and say "good job, Carrie!" and I would say "thghanksh Schtaghnlay huh huh huh." (I was running. Don't judge me).

What will they say Monday at school?

This is the best part. Seriously. I love Good 'ol Johnny's voice. And when he points to Heaven?

It's amazing.

I just have to imagine that the audience is sitting there thinking "dude, we're not going to be talking about Sandy leaving you at the drive in, but about how you're SINGING AT THE DRIVE IN!!!!"

Smiles

Today, I came home from work with this note written on my computer. Because my sister is awesome. And she loves me (you may not understand, but her death wish on me is actually a declaration of love).

Larry-
I wanted to tell you that I love you. And you’re probably the coolest person I know. And I wish I could have hung out with you more this trip; I had fun last night, even though we were watching the worst movie ever made... Also, I hope you get hit by a truck on your way home from work, and the only part of you that isn’t maimed is your butt. (I’m hilarious)
I love you and will talk to you later!
Herman

Serious Happiness

Guys, remember when I talked about the love that I found in an office supply company? Because, today, that love grew SO MUCH MORE!

Because, when I came home, this was waiting for me:

This is the top of the box. The UPS label is conveniently placed over the clipboard. It's beautiful, but it just gets better. Look at the sides!

And then, you open it. And this is what's waiting for you!:

Why thank you, Poppin. It's nice to meet you as well.

Thank you, and it's going quite well.

I will see you in the supply closet. Because I love you.

AND the receipt is in this:

And that's before you even get to what's INSIDE the package.

And there you have it. This is my love for a lovely office supply company. Cemented for life.