call me grace

ok. so, if you haven't been to myheritage.com, go there now. now. it takes about 10 seconds to register. if you hate registering just use mine (name: kakiekakie password: 10things) that's how much i want people to experience this. and then you can upload pictures and they scan the faces in the photo (it does more than one at a time) and then reveals a list of celebrities you look like. scan you, scan your ex, scan your crush, scan your mom, scan anyone! i guess it's part of connecting the entire human family or something. i don't know. all i know is that myheritage.com has paid me the highest compliment i've received in years and i refuse to take it lightly. i refuse to question the validity or source of their database or accuracy of their results. i refuse to let this be cheapened. ok...so on with the show. i scanned a picture of my face...and here were the results:

grace kelly (75%)
keira knightley (75%)
calista flockhart (74%)
vivien leigh (74%)
scarlett johansson (73%)
deborah kerr (73%)
greta garbo (73%)
lindsay lohan (72%)
jeanne moreau (72%)
sarit hadad (72%)
jay chou (72%)
ninet tayeb (71%)
elisha cuthbert (71%)
lucille ball (67%)

snigger all you'd like. i'm chalking this one up to a boost from the Gods of celebrity for all my years of seemingly foolish servitude. and to karma.

Inexplicable Libido

is it normal for me to be undeniably drawn to people with sub-par standards and lifestyles? and usually working a less-than-blue collar job? (e.g. the guy that works at my parking garage booth...fine, the TWO guys that work at my parking garage booth, the guy on the riding lawn mower that i drove by this morning, etc) obviously, i enjoy the word libido way too much. i'll get over it.

Unpredictable Libido

Don't ever see the movie CAMP. Shouldn't be hard, really, to avoid. But just ignore anything that'd ever tempt you. A friend, an intriguing synopsis, a great outdoor venue, a main character named Vlad, a 6.5 star rating on IMDB, etc. It's not good. Not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.

you don't know me

how do you know when you know someone? when you meet them? when you spend 58 days in a row with them? when you can predict their behavior? finish their sentences? list 35 or more facts about them? when you marry that person? when your last child (born and raised with that person) leaves for college? then do you know them? or what? i mean, i can talk myself into the idea that i don't really know anyone, regardless of the length of our relationship. or that i know people i haven't even met. right? so how do you know?

hot-mail

in case you all stopped reading the headlines, or stopped using hotmail when you graduated high school:

gadgets

powell, lake

all the components of a fantastic summer trip
we coordinated our polish

we wore bikinis

we listened to ourpods

we ate good snacks

we wore matching bandanas

we caught some sic air

something borrowed, something blue

RIP Hollywood

if you'd like

if you'd like to be happy:

happy factory

if you'd like to relive the angst of adolescent romance:

aicha

if you'd like to fall in love:

sufjan

if you'd like to know you're not alone:

mow the lawn

if you'd like to get in the boat:

fsh fsh

if you'd like a heart full of hope and vigor:

watch the children

if you'd like to splurge:

anthro

i forgot my shirt at the water's edge

i don't think i'll invite boys to any nighttime swim sessions for a while. they're just better at the daytime type. unless, of course, it were to go like this:

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
Turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
Replaced by everyday.

Nightswimming, remembering that night.
September's coming soon.
I'm pining for the moon.
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?

That bright, tight forever drum
Could not describe nightswimming.

You, I thought I knew you.
You I cannot judge.
You, I thought you knew me,
this one laughing quietly underneath my breath.
Nightswimming.

The photograph reflects,
Every streetlight a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.

one of my favorite things

is to be talking to someone on IM and see the words "so-and-so is typing a message" at the bottom of the window and then to see those same words disappear, but nothing appear in the conversation. a visual manifestation of your stumping of the other. whether with wit or humor or embarassing truths about past relationships.

i'm just saying...

everyone is weird to someone. we are all weird.

buckle your seatbelts

last night, 5 females (including me) and 1 male were sitting in a pool in provo, utah. we were just talking and laughing, sharing stories, treading a bit. when...a young red-shirted man from an upstairs balcony shouted to us..."are you females?" if this, this un-clever, un-interesting, un-flattering line (which was no doubt the product of at least 90 seconds of thought) is the new 'line', then we, (the single twenty-something year old female population of america, more specifically utah county) are in for a real treat.

march 17, 2006

a photo of the most successful evening of entertainment 271 n. 200 e. has ever seen. rock star walk outs and all. i don't even know these people. and they're in my kitchen. that's college.

whyoming...the truth

these are the real reasons i went to wyoming. they need no explanation.

always never all none ever

you should know, i speak in superlatives.

ever again

i don't want to have a boss
i don't want to have an ulcer
i don't want to be an assistant
i don't want to live in an apartment complex
i don't want to get sunburned to the point of blistering
i don't want to get a cold sore
i don't want to live in taft, ca
i don't want to drive a brown econoline or white citation
i don't want to see Mae in concert
i don't want to have braces
i don't want to brake my arm
i don't want to live with my parents
i don't want to listen to eminem
i don't want to have another ex-boyfriend
i don't want to get back on myspace
i don't want to saw down a tree
i don't want to have short hair
i don't want to write letters full of secrets
i don't want to throw up
i don't want to have a period
i don't want to longboard
i don't want to get played by a player (by a player)
i don't want to watch my car burn down
i don't want to introduce myself
i don't want to go to a haunted house
i don't want to graduate college
i don't want to be twelve-sixteen
i don't want to sing in church
i don't want to say 'f' or 'effing' or 'shi' or 'freaking'
i don't want to talk to johnny
i don't want to sew through my finger
i don't want to bleach my hair
i don't want to lie
i don't want to have pet fish
i don't want to enroll in an areobics class
i don't want to miss 4th of july fireworks

ever again.

sotally tober

if i had 4 different boats...this is what i'd name them:

sail boat - cohen breeze
small fisherman's boat - mary a. IV
speedy (with a tower) boat - sotally tober
house boat - krindy

on the other side of my heart

i am a trained lover of...

Republicans
Law as a profession
Lists
America
Doris Day
Public Radio
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
Community sponsored events (concerts, plays, farmer's markets, softball teams, etc)
Pearl Jam
U2
Babies
Audrey Hepburn
iPods
The ocean
Victorian architecture
Quilting, sewing, cross-stitching, etc. (basically any handiwork)
BYU
Small towns
Sufjan Stevens
Scandinavian countries
The piano

i am a trained hater of...

Non-chevron gas stations (specifically maverick)
R rated movies (unless edited)
People who fake tan excessively
Dodge Neons (i've been instructed to run them off the road, on sight)
Dave Matthews Band
Poor grammar
Aggressive girls (like...the type that call boys)
Utah boys (as a possible mate. with a special hate reserved for utah county residents)
Body piercings
Democrats
Poor branding (ugly billboards, sick logos, non clever commercials, etc)
Tatoos
Non-Macintosh Mp3 players
Comic Sans font

yes. i realize how this sounds. i am not admitting the correctness of these ways. nor my abidance by these precepts. i'm just saying. it's in my blood.

smile....you're on

**don't you think it would be fantastic if there were a hidden camera that captured the response of anyone reading/viewing/etc something you sent that would automatically show up and turn on. so that you can always view the authentic, candid reaction of any recipient of any communication you sent but cannot be present for? i do.

by the way. the two stars at the beginning of this post mean that this was not my original thought. i stole it from someone else. but i agree and would like to share it. so i did. at any rate, two asteri will be the code for such stolen thoughts henceforth and forever.

marriage is...

when a person becomes so sick of the game that they re-focus their search for an ideal mate/relationship to that for another person that is equally sick of the game and would make a decent enough mate

Whyoming**

i went to wyoming to help out my sister
i went to wyoming to forget about a mister
i went to wyoming to listen to the minister
i went to wyoming to stop feeling sinister
i went to wyoming to be an old spinster
i went to wyoming to avoid the provo twister