It's also the name of my favorite Jimmy Eat World song.

I had an interesting discovery recently. At first I thought it was a temporary feeling, but it's lasted a lot longer than I thought it would and has only intensified.

I love my job.

Yes, I love my little part-time job that eats up all my nights and weekends and used to stress me out so much in high school. It pays next to nothing and makes me hate people in general.

I love my coworkers. I love having a steady income. I love ice cream. I love the regulars. I love the customers who act like decent human beings.

But most of all, I like the accomplishment I feel from working. I think a lot of us forget about how awesome work in general feels because sometimes it sucks and there's almost always something else we'd rather be doing.  But we're on earth to work, so why wouldn't it be satisfying in the end?

There's Always Money In the Banana Stand.

What? You've never seen Arrested Development? Quick, go watch the first season on hulu. But if there's no time for that, the opening credits will sort of tell you what's going on. It's very funny.

But this is just the background for the real story, which could be more vaguely titled "What I Did This Weekend."

My friend Bryan had his birthday party this weekend, and it was Arrested Development-themed. A lot of people came dressed up, and it was a blast. I brought my camera and quickly became the Party Photographer.

Bianca as Lucille and Hannah as Kitty

Tiffany and Bryan as Lindsey and Tobias

Lauren as Rita

The Cake

   The cutoffs are a reference to the show, I promise.

Everybody.

The family.

It's Clearly A Muttation, Sent By the Capitol to Destroy Me.

It's around four in the morning. I can't sleep. I'm afraid to leave my room even though I'm thirsty. But I don't care. I just finished Mockingjay. I read the entire Hunger Games trilogy in under 72 hours. As much as I've heard others complain about it, I'm more than satisfied with how it ended. I feel accomplished.

But the real story here is why I'm terrified to leave. Not until morning, anyway.

There was a mosquito in my room. 

I can handle spiders and other creepy crawlies, but I hate hate HATE mosquitos.  It was huge, which means it's probably a mosquito-eater, and my mom says those are harmless. I still don't trust it. Can't. I'm wearing shorts tonight and have no desire to wear any additional clothing.

 My plan to get rid of it was brilliant--at least to me, and I've devoted the last three days to a stack of almost magnetic novels, ignoring most impulses to eat and sleep. I waited until the vile thing got away from the door. This took some time. I tried to will it back to hell with angry words, but that only drove it to the light switch. OhgoshIhadtotouchthat.

Soon it went to the ceiling and I made a dash for it, turning off the light behind me. The hall light went on, then the dining room, hoping that the darkness in my room and the light outside of it would draw the thing out. There was no sign of it in the hall, but a quick sweep of my room shows it wasn't there. I sat down in front of the computer and start to turn on a podcast--I'm a few days behind on the news. All of a sudden, the mosquito flew out from under the computer and into my face. I screamed and ran into the hall. My parents were angry when I told them that the noise had been because of a mosquito, but they were too tired to do anything but go back to bed.

Then I saw it. I got it into the hall. I ran back into my room and locked the door behind me. But if I leave, it  might come back in.

No, the books haven't made me distraught. Or paranoid. Not at all. I just need a back massage...okay, or maybe some sleep.

Oh no. There's something buzzing in here.

Plus it has Jimmy Fallon on it.

‎"Vanilla bean ice cream with a salty caramel swirl and fudge-covered potato chip clusters." 

It doesn't sound as good as bacon ice cream, but I'm still interested. If this is the kind of food I think sounds good now, what monstrosities will I try when I'm pregnant one day? 

Oh, goodness, let's not think about that today.

Red Lipstick (Or Lack Thereof)

I didn't have time to do much with my appearance yesterday. I think I looked good, but I wasn't terribly feminine. There were a few moments were I jokingly called myself a Little Butch Girl--but not out loud to people who would get on my case about using that term. I ran into a guy from my ward who only sees me at church when I'm dressed up. "Your lips aren't as red as usual," he said. "Is your name still Brooke?"

Is this how people see me? Really?

But that's not the point. The point is that despite looking like a Little Butch Girl, I was happy. I wasn't defining myself by how I look like that punk from my ward. I'm a daughter of God and a disciple of Christ. Knowing that and doing what I should is what makes me feel good about myself...but looking pretty helps now and again, too.

Lists and Letters

Things I Hate, but Have a Morbid Fascination With

1. Jersey Shore

2. Snow

3. Economics 

Dear Cadbury,
     I will be eternally grateful for your having created the Caramello. Keep up the good work.
                         Love, Brooke

Reasons I Think the Federal Government Hates Me.

1. I never got my birth certificate back when I got my passport.

2. The Social Security Office has my birthday wrong.

Dear Summertime,
      I love, miss, and desperately need you.
                              Love, Brooke

Awesome Things I Did This Week

1.  Read de Tocqueville

2. Learned John Lennon's middle name was Winston

3. Made beautiful and delicious cookies.

4. Listened to Adele almost nonstop.

Odd Literary Cravings

You know what I really want to read? 

Don't judge--I'm not expecting it to be a great American novel; but I do want to read something light and silly. Plus, I'm genuinely curious to see if Snooki can write. There may actually be some talent underneath that pouf. Think about it--lots of great writers were drunks. 

I Love Thursdays.

Thursday is when I usually put my life back together. After a crazy week, I finally have a little time to clean and organize and breathe. It was especially so today because I've been sick and needed to catch up on homework and wash my hair for the first time in a few days.

The moon was full and gorgeous tonight. Noelle dubbed it a love-moon because it's not harvest time and it's my celebrity boyfriend's birthday.

I'm still not feeling great, but it's been a great day. 

Crap. I still have school tomorrow. Arrrgh.

Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings

I'm not a huge fan of techno music.  Or of opera. But Eric Whitacre, one of my favorite composers, mashed them together with the traditional musical theatre tradition to create Paradise Lost: Shadows and Wings.

The story is not based on Milton's Paradise Lost, but is actually about a tribe of angels whose parents hid them away and took their wings as children. An odd concept, true, but so is the music. It's a really beautiful and unexpected fit--like bacon in ice cream, or Bollywood and Jane Austen.

You can hear excerpts of the music by clicking here. I strongly suggest that you do.  I'm slightly addicted to "What If," "Sleep My Child," "Forgotten" and "All Alone."

Multipurpose Everything.

All my pillowcases mysteriously disappeared over winter break. I slept on a bare pillow for a while, then it occurred to me--tee shirts work just as well, and I have more than enough of them. Sometimes I'm just smart like that.

Also--VERIZON iPHONE. I didn't post about it earlier because I was too busy talking about it all the time. I'm really excited because I'll finally be able to have my phone and my iPod be the same thing (which is the important part to me) without leaving my network. (Apps are just gravy, BTW.) It will probably take me forever to actually get one, but the possibility makes my heart happy.

Times They Are A-Changin'

photo by me

Disclaimer: I drink herbal tea. It's delicious. I'm not talking about the normal stuff.


Then:

I put my $2 D.I. teapot on and go into the other room and watch Parks and Recreation. I lose track of time and melt my teapot to the burner. No tea for me.

Now:

I put the nice metal teapot on and go into the other room and watch Parks and Recreation. When the water's boiling, the teapot whistles. I have tea with soymilk and sugar.

Happy Birthday, Jared!

Yesterday my brother Jared turned 11. You should know that he's got a wicked sense of humor. He says the most hilarious things. You don't remember them later--all you can remember is that you almost died laughing.

He's interested in everything and is really, really smart. As a young child, he wouldn't say "That's mine!" He would say "That belongs to me!" 

He's very fashionable.

See?

He's my golden boy. Love you, Jared!

Hysteria is a Symptom of Spring Fever.

I had always been under the vague impression that when Spring came, you would wake up one day to a warm green world, a little rain, and that snow just kind of disappeared.

Nope. Thanks for lying to me, California.

This much snow melts slowly and it floods the sidewalk. The grass underneath it is brown and dead.

I've found that Spring is a bit like adolescence. It's totally different than what you expect. Things are changing at a crazy pace and you're not sure what's going to happen next. You start shaving your legs. Under the right conditions, you want to wear as little clothing as possible.

I will admit that I'm being a tad obsessive about Spring, but this Winter is just driving me up a wall! When I left devotional today to find it snowing, I totally lost it. Maybe you heard me.

"Spring starts in March! WHY is it snowing? I hate seasons!" 

"Spring starts March 20," explained Jenna.

"Shhhh. It's March."
 At this point I realized how loud I was when a lady passing by sweetly told us about how when she got married at the end of April and it snowed that day. I quieted down after that. (Yes, I can be a bit of a drama queen...but you haven't seen anything until you've met my youngest brothers!)  I went home, changed into something warmer than a dress, and looked out the window. More snow. I had had my fair share of outrage for the day, so I just tried to ignore it. Thank goodness for the Rexburg blog. It reminds me why I didn't stay home.

Actually, I Just Hate to Go Up Stairs Slowly.

I never thought it was possible, but I may have run out of things to say for the time being.

I've got a lot on my mind, just not anything I can publish.

I'm just cold. So you guys get this today.



Okay, and maybe some thoughts on homesickness. (Okay, so I really never run out of things to say.) I don't think I've ever really been homesick. Occasionally I miss certain people (except I miss Minnie all the time), or going certain places, but I've never just ached to be back in California. Even when I went to Italy when I was 15, I only missed my mom, Dallin and Minnie a little bit. (Sorry, rest of the family. You know how I was at that age.)

But I do miss the way things were sometimes. A lot of my friends are going on missions and getting married and having babies and it's just weird. Not gonna lie, I'm kind of terrified to grow up. It's like I have this enormous canvas and some oil paints in front of me. I have a basic idea of what I want to paint, but what if I choose the wrong colors or designs or I accidentally punch a hole in it? It's daunting. I hate getting things wrong.

image via

But of course, being scared of the future won't make it go away. All you can do is be prepared. (And "if ye are prepared, ye shall not fear," right?)

Side note to the curious: The title of this post is part of one of the other things on my mind. Don't read too much into it.

"But I Don't Know Nothin' 'Bout Love."

I've been sick all weekend. I should have known on Friday night when I fell asleep during the movie. I never fall asleep during movies! (Though I was awake long enough to learn that my brown eyes would be about as welcome in Middle Earth as they would be in Hitler's ideal world. EVERYONE in Lord of the Rings has blue eyes.) But it didn't really hit until yesterday. Today I couldn't even go to church. This is more as a disclaimer than anything else. Any of the following could  be the NyQuil talking.

Valentine's isn't for a week, but today I'm going to talk about love. The topic really came to my mind this week when I learned that a very very young friend of mine fancies himself in love. I laughed. Romeo and Juliet were in love at his age, now weren't they?

There's more to being in love than Hollywood or the book publishers would have you think. It's more than butterflies and late night conversations. It takes work and the understanding that the hormones will eventually stop raging. And knowing what to do after that. It's better than butterflies. And it takes time to get it right.

I do know where my very very young friend is coming from. It's just that the one time I really thought I was in love with someone, it didn't turn out well at all. 

Because I can't tell you from experience what being in love really is yet. I've got time to figure that all out.

Little Thank You Notes

To the French language:
Thank you for being my teenage rebellion. Spanish may be more practical, but you definitely have your perks.

Dear Austria,
Thank you for inventing Milka chocolate bars.

Dear Pianos,
Thank you for being strategically placed around the BYU-Idaho campus.

Dear Pacsun,
Thank you for making awesome metaphoric necklaces.

Dear Taylor Swift,
Thank you for writing "Jump Then Fall."

Dear Sudoku,
Thanks for finally making sense.

Dear Guy from Lifehouse,
Thanks for writing great songs, but I'm not too fond of your voice.

Love always,
Brooke

The Quote-A-Day Prophesies

I got a The Office quote-a-day calendar for Christmas. 

Monday, 18 January:

Baked 7 dozen cookies. 

"We were fighting the power and eating whatever we wanted." ~Stanley

Tuesday, 19 January:

Pulled fake engagement scam on my family and friends.

"When Michael told us that Jan was pregnant, he led us to believe that he was the father. By telling us that he was the father." ~Jim

Wednesday, 20 January:

Went to bed BEFORE midnight. 

"People expect a lot from these meetings: laughter, sudden twists, surprise endings...You need to be Robin Williams and M. Night Shyamalan. You need to be 'Robin Shyamalan.'" ~Michael

Thursday, 21 January:

I'm so glad nothing happened today that had anything to do with the quote.

Ryan: That's me and my friend Jasmine from Thailand.

Pam: I don't want to look at your friend Jasmine's boobs all day.

Ryan: You could be hot, too, if you made any effort at all.

Scatterbrain

I'd really like to see (500) Days of Summer.

Yesterday I made a Nutella and bacon sandwich using Eggo waffles instead of bread. It was delicious.

Then today I found a recipe for Candied Bacon Ice Cream. Something may be wrong here.

photo courtesy of the Telegraph

Look at this dress. It has special pockets for markers to create the colored pattern. How clever! 

I'm tempted to not go to my American government class on Tuesday because I know something more horribly sexist than usual will happen in the name of an object lesson.

50% of Haitians agree with Pat Robertson about the deal with the devil thing.

Mari Winsor is officially my arch-nemesis.

Barbershop or Jazz?

"I have a Fifth Sense. It's like I have ESPN or Something."

You know what I don't understand? Girls.

Not the way my brother Dallin* doesn't understand them. More like the way Lindsay Lohan doesn't understand them at the beginning of Mean Girls. I grew up with all brothers and mostly guy cousins and lots of guy friends and smart girlfriends. I can only think of two major instances of drama since 7th grade--one caused by a crazy "friend" and the other by a mom who jumped to her own conclusions about my motives. I did my best to handle it maturely and things were worked out in a timely manner. But I've recently become aware of some sort of secret girl code involving the rules of drama and crap like that. And apparently I've broken some recently.

Personally, I think it's pretty much the dumbest thing in the world. That whole culture is based on the assumption that every other girl is a petty slut. I'm glad I don't speak Girl. I'd rather speak Woman. Or Audrey Hepburn.

*A worse sister would include a picture from his first date last month. But that's Mom's job.

More Like Spider-Manly.

I love smells. I love love love them.
My favorite:

Coffee.

I always walk down the coffee aisle at the grocery store because it smells so good.

Then I got this for myself at Christmas. Ohhh myyy goodness.It smells JUST. LIKE. LICORICE.
And it's wonderful.

Kyle (hBiF) got me Pink before I left for Rexburg specifically for the purpose of attracting guys. I'll let you know how that one works out.

But this was aweome. This was in Jared's stocking. The scent is labeled "Grime Fighting Blast." I figured it was generic bubble bath or some kind of fruit smell. No. It smells like cologne. It smells like man and it's got vitamins for soft skin. But it's in a Spiderman bottle. And my 10-year-old brother uses it. I wonder who the manufacturers had in mind when putting this product together...