'Cause I like-ah, like-ah, like-ah you-ah, you-ah, you- a lot.

I tried to start my car yesterday. Ruby had other plans though (that's her name, Ruby the Subie). I guess I left one of my doors open a crack for a couple days and the battery happened to die. I recruited several males with several muscles to help.

It took almost an entire hour to figure how to manually put my car in neutral, push it away from the building so we could get to the hood and clip those tweezer deals to finally get it to start.

Yay for adventures?

Oh. I should mention, it's snowed 5 inches in the last couple days.

I had to join World Gym this morning. I would use the school's gym, but I look much cuter in my pink running shorts than the ugly blue swishy pants BYU-I requires you to wear. And of course, when you're frequently running over 10 miles, it's all about looking cute.

ha kidding!

Kind of...

Your love, your love, your love... is my drug!

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.

1. Hand Warmers.

2. Shaving my legs.

3. Painting my fingernails.

4. Writing lists.

5. Biofreeze.

6. Running.

7. Sentsy.

8. Urban Outfitters.

9. Ipod.

And now....

10. Nike I.D. running shoes

Hi, my name is Laci and I'm a recovering (all of the above) -aholic.

Advice.

When you're already losing the game, you might as well throw a hail mary........ right?

More Awkwardness.

In my Child Development class, we are required to give a presentation about an assigned topic. Yesterday my group was having a meeting to nail down the specifics about how we wanted to present our information to the class. There are just three of us and one of the guys showed up about an hour earlier than the other one. So it was just me and Andy (that's not his real name, but it fits his looks/personality) sitting at one of the tables in the library. I noticed he had a couple of band aids on his right, middle finger. They weren't there the day before so I decided to ask him about it.

Me: Oh ouch!! What happened to your finger?!

Andy: Oh it was a construction accident a few years ago.

Me: (looking really confused)

Andy: Ya, most people are afraid to ask about it.

Me: (still looking confused, still looking at the band aids)

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

About a full 30 seconds after he stopped talking I realized that next to his middle finger is his pointer finger. Actually, more accurately, next to half his pointer finger.

As if yesterday weren't awkward enough, due to the outcome of previous events I decided to just tell British Columbia (remember, from my earlier post) exactly what I thought about him. Unfortunately, the guts to do this accumulated right around mile 2 of my 6 mile run. Almost all of my different running routes happen to pass right by his house. I thought this would be perfect. I'd just show up at his door at the end of my run, all sweaty and out of breath, and just let the awkwardness take over. So, I paced outside of his house for about 10 minutes rehearsing what I was planning to say. After making an obviously trodden path in his grass, I finally had gathered the nerve to actually knock. So I did. Turns out, he wasn't even home. I got a very, very weird look from his roommate. And then I left. And then I felt even more awkward.

My kids will be funnier than yours.

A Whole Turkey

1 big bag full of a whole turkey (Get the kind with no feathers on, not the kind the Pilgrims ate.)

A giant lump of stuffin'

1 squash pie

1 mint pie

1 little fancy dish of sour berries

1 big fancy dish of a vegetable mix

20 dishes of all different candies; chocolate balls, cherry balls, good 'n plenties and peanuts

Get up when the alarm says to and get busy fast. Unfold the turkey and open up the holes. Push in the stuffin' for a couple hours. I think you get the stuffin' from that Farm that makes it.

I know you have to pun the stuffin' to the turkey or I suppose it would get out. And get special pins of use big long nails.

Get the kitchen real hot, and from there on you just cook turkey. Sometimes you can call it a bird, but it's not.

Then you put the vegetables in the cooker- and first put on on top, and next put one on bottom and then one in the middle. That makes vegetable mix. Put 2 red things of salt all in it and 2 red things of water also. Cook them to just 1/2 warm.

Put candies around the place and Linda will bring over the pies.

When company comes put on your red apron.

Supermodel.

It's not a secret that I'm not a model. As if my looks weren't reason enough, I do not possess even a hint of poise either.

But! At least once a day I get to feel like one.

You know when you're outside and its super cold and you can't wait to swing open the door to a building so that you can get that huge gust of warm wind that makes your hair blow wildly away from your face and your cheeks shine a little pinker and you narrow your eyes just a little bit in case a piece of hair flips in your eye and it mildly reminds you of a shampoo commercial?

Ha it's very odd that opening up a door can make me feel just the tiniest bit better about myself. It does though. It really does.

I'm sure if I knew who exactly read this blog, I'd be embarrassed by how many stupid confessions I make. I just assume nobody really reads it except for family. Ignorance is bliss?

Need not apply.

In case you haven't noticed, I live my life in lists.

I have a list about what I need to do today.

I have a list about what I need to do tomorrow.

I have a list about what I need to do this weekend.

I even have a list about what I need to do this month.

You get the idea.

I blame this obsession on Young Women's. It seems like every sunday we made at least two lists. One was for the things we needed to do learn in order to be a good mom (i.e. establish good habits, learn to cook, learn to sew) and the other one was for listing the qualities we needed to be looking for in a potential mate (i.e. tall, dark and handsome).

After making these lists for about 4 years straight, I decided to grow up a little bit and get specific. Of course I cared whether or not my future husband would have a testimony and loved kids and would listen to me and would be able to provide for our family and would have nice biceps blah blah blah.

But then I thought, what else? Plenty of guys fit that description. I needed to be more specific.

So then I thought of this.

My future husband MUST be able to carry me down a flight of stairs when I'm 9 months pregnant, I'm in labor and the house is on fire.

Yep. That's my weeding out requirement.

I am fully willing to do a test run.