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 middle

I did it, guys. I figured out the secret to having a middle part that I feel comfortable enough with to wear in public.

You don't believe me do you? Is it because of this post? Yeah, I know.

Well, I figured it out. You have to curl it. (Tadaaaa!)

Look, I'll prove it.

Woot.

I have hair.

And a camera. Yay.

Stream of Consciousness

If the camera on my compy were working, maybe I'd have a picture for you.

Of my blond hair. Whaaat?

Thanks to my seester, Shmathleen.

She's gonna have a baby soon, and she still did my hair.

Cuz she's cool.

Also, I didn't die in a hurricane or an earthquake.

And I have a car now. Woot.

And I'm back in Oklamahoma.

Coolcoolcool.

Now I want to leave you all with this.

Just because it's funny.

Where do they go?

I know where the socks go. They're little and you miss them. Or you drop them.
I know where the bobby pins go. You drop them where you take them out. Or the fall out of you hair.
But, where do the hair ties go? You take them out of your hair and put them around your wrist. So, why is it that when you really need a hair tie you don't have any?
Where do they gooooooo?!

I never really liked the brady bunch

They were too happy and perky. Their conflict was very full house-esque. Little things that didn't really matter and were always resolved by the end of the episode.
Also, their backyard didn't have grass. It had astro-turf.
And they mowed it.

But mostly, it just reminds me of a traumatizing event from high school.
I was a freshmen in high school with a Seventeen Magazine. September 2003. It had Brittany Murphy on it.
Her hair was adorable.I decided that my next hair cut would look like hers. I thought that it would be great.
It didn't, and it wasn't.

At this time, Kathleen was a junior in high school, and as such was not yet working wonders on my hair. I don't remember who cut it. But it was baaaad. I cried for days. I wore my hair in a short little pony tail for weeks.
(This isn't just one bad hair cut. It is immortalized on a banner sized picture of the state winning girls track team in the gym of Broken Arrow Senior High. If you would really like to see this fiasco of style, you can go to the gym and look for it. I'd rather you didn't, though)

To add to my dismay of this horrid hair cut, I went to school with beaten spirits and very low self esteem, only to be told by a friend,
"you look like Bobby Brady."
Not Marcia. Not Jan. Not even Cindy.
Bobby.
Just in case you didn't catch it,
Bobby's a boy.
The sad thing is that he was right. I had better teeth, a girlier face, a little longer hair, but my hair (bangs especially) did bear a horrid resemblance to little Bobby.

I never really got over it.

we're just glad Carrie comes.

I've been having foot pain for the past few days.
I've been trying to figure out what to write about.
I could write about how I would like crutches so people could call me Crutchy and I could talk about what I did to Mr. Snyder's sauerkraut.

I was thinking of how to describe my pain. I can really only compare it to shin splints. In my foot.
Foot splints.

And that lead me to write about track.
I ran track and cross country all throughout high school.
I didn't do it because I was amazing, but because I wanted to. Kathleen and I did it together, and we had a lot of fun.(I'm the super white one with no eyes. Kathleen is the one in yellow who looks like she's in pain. Please remember that, while I am freakishly tall, I was a freshman. That's why my hair looks like that)

However, it wasn't all fun and games. We did have to run. We also had to deal with the coaches. Let's call them Male Coach and Female Coach, to protect their identities.

Like I said, I wasn't amazing at track or cross country. In fact, you might say that I was the worst on the team. This caused much distress to Male Coach. He didn't like imperfection. Because I was the definition of imperfection in running, he didn't like me too much. One of the things about me that caused Male Coach to be the most distressed was the fact that I walked occasionally.

Before you judge me and think that I was one of those slacker kids who only ran during meets when their coaches were nearby, I'd like to squelch that thought right there. One of the things I'm most proud of is that I never walked during a meet.

However, when you run in Oklahoma at 3:00 in the afternoon in August, (it's approximately 105 degrees with 90% humidity at that time) it get's difficult to run 5 miles and not take a break.

My walking angered Male Coach. He couldn't kick me off the team because it was public school, and I had really good grades, meaning I helped with the team's collective GPA. But, I didn't follow his requests to the letter, causing him anger.

Let me illustrate a picture of Angry Male Coach with my words.
It starts with the chin. Anger causes Male Coach's head to recede back to his neck until he has virtually no chin. It's basically just neck and face. Then his right eye begins to twitch, causing his head to tilt towards the right. While he's yelling at you, his neck/chin combination jiggles, making what used to be a completely normal looking person look like an angry jiggling purple turtle. The problem is that laughing at Male Coach only caused him to be more angry. It was an ongoing vicious cycle of laughing and jiggling.

Female Coach was more passive aggressive with her disappointment with me. Female Coach would hint at how frustrated she was that I'd been on the team for four years and they had yet to see a HUGE improvement. She would say things like "we're just glad Carrie comes" and "Carrie is talented in other ways." Like they'd given up on me, not expecting improvement, just felt obligated to acknowledge the fact that I tried. She would tell me that it was okay if I didn't do well at practice, because I wasn't built to be a runner. I was built to be a shot putter, but just didn't have the upper body strength. That might not sound bad to you guys, but it basically means she thought I wasn't thin enough to be a runner, and I was weak.

I did try though. That's the thing. there were several times that I tried very hard and did well. There were other times that I tried very hard and failed. I look back on it now and am astonished at my ability to wipe off embarrassment. Like in this occassion:

When I was a freshmen, I was running the 400 meter dash in meets (because they had nothing else for me to do), but didn't qualify for regionals. This was not shocking. As I said, i was slow.
However, I also had really good grades. At that point, my GPA was a 4.0. In order for the team to win the "smart kids" award (I'm not sure if that's what it's really called, but that's what we're going to call it) they needed me to compete.

They couldn't have me run the 400, I was too slow. They couldn't have me run anything.
I couldn't throw a shot put ball to save my life, and hurdles and high jump still scare the willies out of me. I couldn't pole vault, that takes a lot of training. But, there was one thing they hadn't tried before: long jump.

To their surprise, when they took me over and told me to jump, I didn't fail miserably. I made the minimum requirement to compete (making it into the sandpit). So, two days before the regional meet, they took me over and gave me a crash course in long jump.

The problem: two days wasn't long enough. I knew this as soon as we showed up for the meet. I took one look at the sand pit and went to talk to Female Coach.
"Female Coach," (I'm pretty sure I actually used her real name) "their sandpit is a few feet farther from the spring board than ours is. I don't think I can make the sandpit," I told her in my most worried and shaky voice.
"Carrie, don't be silly," she said. "It's no farther away than ours."

We both knew she was lying to me. She didn't want me to freak out, but it was much farther away. I spent the next few hours of the meet alternating between praying to not embarrass myself and having entire-body convulsions.

By the time it was my turn to compete, the prayers worked. I was no longer scared of being embarrassed. I had accepted my fate, I was going to die. I watched the other long jumpers on the team compete, and probably place (they actually had skill and had been doing it for longer than two days).

When it was my turn, I stepped up to the starting line, ran down the strip of track, jumped off the spring board, and went as far as I could. Sadly, as far as I could was (as I'd predicted to Female Coach) not as far as the sandpit.

I repeated this action 3 times. After I finished, I left the few feet of track in front of the sandpit, walked over to Kathleen, and said "I'm hungry, want a granola bar?"

Kathleen was shocked. I'd pretty much just made a fool of myself in front of the entire region's track and field athletes, but it didn't bother me. Yes, I could hear their disdainful comments and snorts of disapproval, but I was used to it. I ran track for fun, not for glory.

Plus, I was hungry, and there were granola bars in my track bag.

taaaaaake ooooon meeeeeeee (take on me) taaaaaaake meeeeee ooooooon (take on me)

so, today, my sister kathleen came to see me.

she likes me.
and she does my hair.
and she's awesome.
so my hair looks awesome.
this is before.and this is afterthen we got excited.
and did this:










and we listened to a-ha.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EXxMlIExpo

they said "i hope that you will never change," i went and cut my hair.

oh, avett brothers, how i love you.

here's the thing, i miss my red hair.it was pretty. and fun.
i really do love my hair color.
i have naturally blond hair. it's pretty.

but, sometimes you need a change.
and right now, i'm yearning for a change.
i miss the red.
i can't wait till august when i can go brunette.

p.s. kathleen, you could just come to my house now and do my hair. i would love you for it.

you can't throw his head, you can only throw your own head!

this morning, i woke up with some crazy hair. it looked like this:it was the side that was pinned that freaked me out the most. it just stuck out a lot. (you see? on the left side? ok.)

for some reason, when i looked at myself in the mirror, i was reminded of this guy:photo courtesy of
i had a sudden urge to take off my head and throw it.

adventure of a lifetime

ok. not of a lifetime. sometimes i speak in overstatements. but here we go.

today, i decided that i needed bangs. i blame it on my current obsession with Zooey Deschanel and my lifetime (since middle school) love of Gilmore Girls (Rory's hair, season 6. look it up. actually, i'll just show you)

alexis photo courtesy of

zooey photo courtesy of

so, today, i decided i was in desperate need of bangs. however, i'm poor. i didn't want to spend 15 dollars for someone to cut my bangs. so i called my trusty sister. she's awesome. and i said, can i do it myself? and she said...

... yes!

so i did. it was an adventure. i also promised kathleen that i would show pictures. so, kathleen, here you go. this is my handiwork.

please don't call me at 7:00 in the morning.

the freaky hair.

i showered yesterday. around 6:00 pm.

so, i didn't shower this morning.i slept on my hair, woke up, re-curled, and went.
i should have used product.
i should have blow dried.
i should have done something.
there's a freaky hair.it won't lay down.
it hates my happiness.

the middle part debacle.

i stopped wearing a middle part in about 6th grade, when i realized it looked ridiculous (plus, i didn't know how to do my hair then).

but lately, i've been seeing all these girls with adorable hair with a middle part.

see? look how cute their hair is.

photo courtesy of

photo courtesy of

so today, i decided to try it out. to revive the middle part that i've hated for so long.

i blow dried my hair, with the middle part. put it in hot rollers, with the middle part. eventually took them out. then i looked at my head.

no bueno. there's a reason the middle part has had no reappearance in my life. it wasn't horrible, but it sure (fun fact? i just spelled sure "sher." it took me a second to realize it was wrong) didn't look like the two girls above. i mean, i know that i don't have a personal stylist, but i do feel like i can adequately do my own hair.

i looked at my hair. it made me sad. i was so excited to have cute hair, but once i put back in the side part, it ended up looking boring.

i guess i feel for Linus.

for the last 24 hours, i've been considering cutting my hair. i see in my mind a really cute longish bob, a-line cut (i don't know if i'm using correct terminology. kathleen? back me up/help me?) it would be adorable. and lovely.

but there's a problem: i love my hair.

i love it long. it's taken a really long time to grow it this long. and, i guess i feel like it's a security blanket. or maybe i just really love it. (i in no way want to make it into a sport coat. that would be disgusting, but i'm not sure i want to lose it just yet). maybe in a few months maybe we'll let my hair get really long, then just slash it off. maybe i'll wait till kathleen can do it.

maybe i'm just having stress related insanity.

photo courtesy of

there's only one thing to blame.

i have a headache. it's there, throbbing on the side of my head. like a little tiny man with a little tiny pick axe has decided that there is nothing he'd like more than to get his little tiny self out of my head.

there is a reason. i know what it is.

it's not because there are only 5 weeks of classes left in the semester.
it's not because my portfolio's due in april.
it's not because i was in class for 6 hours today.
it's not because the testing center is charging me $25 dollars for a calculator i know i turned in.
it's not because i miss my family.
it's not because i want it to be spring time.
it's not because i need a job.
it's not because i need more sleep.
it's not because i have a mosquito bite on the side of my head that looks like a second face.
it's not because i hit myself in the head with both my racket and ball today in racquetball class.

no. all of these things that could be giving me a headache are true. all have caused me headaches in the past and probably will many times to come.

no. there's only one thing causing this blasted headache.
it's a bobby pin headache.

first time

this has been a year of firsts
following will be a list of my firsts:
in November, i died my hair. for the first time.
(yes, i realize that i spelled "dyed" wrong. i'm not changing it)
it was red. my sister did it.
she's amazing. and pretty.
and has a pretty baby.
i went to my first concert. it was fun.
be calm. there's just a few more.
also in November i turned 21 for the first time (although to be perfectly honest,
it is the only time i'll turn 21).
(hopefully).
lastly, i started my first blog.
(well, i started a blog last year, but it was a school assignment,
so that doesn't count)
(ok, so there weren't as many firsts as i thought in my brain, but here is my introduction)