remedies: a story about taking things into my own hands.

soooo for those of you who dont know, today i woke up really concerned about my well-being. why? ohhh just cause i was so sick that i was basically choking on my own tongue. which...is not very attractive. but.. you know how i get with sickness, everyone...

...reallly dramatic. but today...today was different.

i went through the normal stages of jenna sickness: shock upon awakening. followed by dismay. then came denial. then severe depression and anger. finally hopelessness and thoughts of death. but today i experienced a new stage. and i call it, "taking matters into my own hands."
so i decided that sickness was not gonna get the best of me. life is already not fair. why should we have to get sick whenever sickness just randomly feels like inflicting itself?

so i started out by taking a bunch of cold medicine and pain killers. which is what everyone does anyway.  but it wasnt working and i grew suuuuuper impatient.  i googled "home remedies for throte sickness" (and no, im not proud of the way i spelled "throat") and i came up with some things. and i tried ALL OF THEM.

so i grabbed my honey and lemons and all the other nasty things google told me to get and i set out for success. i felt super ridiciously awesome. like this:

but i was more along the lines of this:

here is what happened...

-a sickening concotion of ginger and water. (i didnt have ginger so i used cinammon cause it seemed like a good idea at the time.)
-another slightly less disgusting mix of lemon juice, honey and hot water.
- hot apple cider (totally not gross at all.)   :)
-boil water and stick your head by the steam.
-massage your throat. (awkward.)
-eat a lot of honey.
-drink a lot of water.
-put hot things by your neck.... i dont even know.

by the end of the stage i was going slightly out of my mind. there was honey everywhere and the steam from the boiling water idea made my face sweaty and my hair frizz. imagine my mothers concern when she found this:



but there is good news. kind of. because im kind of feeling better. a little. and i think everyone will be ok. hopefully.

im still sick though. in case you were wondering.

The Night of the Long Black Shorts and Death On Every Corner.

paranoia is a strange and beautiful thing. and i have been experiencing this phenomena quite a freakin bit lately. :(
it all started when my sweet Eden friend texted, called and called again at 5 in the morning to make sure i was still alive. imagine my confusion and eventual paranoia when she informed me that i will be murdered if i go running in skanky shorts because of a dream that she had.

i was like, k thanks eden. dont call me anymore.

but then, that night, as i lay a dreamin' in my bed, my pleasant visions of peanut butter faded into the worst nightmare of my existence. i'll spare you the disturbing details. but basically i died. like a lot. by gangsters. 6 of them.

ever since i've been on the look out for death. i wear long shorts and try to run really fast so i look really sweaty and no one would try to kill me cause they wouldnt want my sweat on them.
but yesterday was by far the scariest and mentally exhausting run of my life. it went like THIS.
(best if read like you're being really overdramatic at trying to tell the boogeyman a scary story)

it was a cold and foggy November evening. I began my journey from my safehouse and proceeded to run to my favorite fields. But this time, i chose to stay on the edge of the hill so that passerbys could see me if i was mauled. Later i would find out just how awesome that choice was...

Seconds later a truck full of guys slowed down and watches me. and i watch them. Awkwardly. While picking up pace in the opposite direction. i was like a hawk-panther. on the freakin lookout. planning my speedy and frantic escape from every possible angle. they pulled into a side road, just slightly hidden from my view and waited...
but my fear of death by males fueled my crazy and ungraceful flee down the street. and i won cause i didnt see them again. (they were probably intimidated by my long shorts and sweat)
and i went foolishly along...
i passed by a multitude of shady things. a parked car with tinted windows, a dark house, trashcans by the tens.
but i went along, challenging my potential demise at every turn.
 then the hardcore athlete in me was like, "hey i have an idea. lets switch things up. lets go up that really big hill and take a spin by the apartments. the welfare apartments. like a boss."
k really? who do i think i am?
and i listened to hardcore athlete Jenna.
in the next approximately 6 minutes i encountered...
1) a hobo with like 4 trash sacks full of unidentified items. (probably human based)
2) a really old dude who looked like santa clause in a clever and sporty sweatsuit of death
3) a homeboy. smoking. who knows what.
4) a man walking in a terrible orange sweater who really liked to switch sides of the road unannounced.
and just as i was about to start crying out of sheer terror and paranoia, a small black man in a large black truck beeped at me. and all hell broke loose.

picture a 2 yr old baby. right after you have popped out of a corner and yelled something (probably boo) really loud. their eyes full of questions and extreme terror...their mouth twisted and contorted into a pre-cry frown of defeat and sadness...their hands instictively covering their small, cold ears. that was me. literally on the side of the road. imploding into the realization that my long shorts and sweat theory didnt work. and i in fact looked really ghetto fabulous and hot. :( it was a weak moment. and i realized that no one was safe now.

at that point it was another 2 miles back. my goal in that moment and probably life was to get home unmurdered. so i did. i fought off every stare, every animal and every trashcan that got in my way. and as i was running i realized something...

in near death experiences, it is said that one undergoes a small internal playback of their life up to that point. but i learned that i am different. i undergo a large internal playfront in which i see images of my potential future. graduating, moving away, dating, marrying, kids and so on. i think this was a gift from my brain. because it was the exact thing i needed to motivate my body to get me home quickly..

so yes. moral of the story: jenna looks hot even when she doesnt try. and dont go running in my neighborhood. its not for the weak at heart.

get errr done.

well first of all i feel like i owe my avid readers the sincerest of apologies. i havent posted anything of worth since forever and a half ago so therefore you all have permission to come to my house and kick me in the face.



BRING IT.

 its kinda sad cause i didnt even remember my username.

good thing someone, somewhere decided that computers should have a "remember me" option so that its not only tearjerkingly easy to log in but also signifcantly easier to hack into peoples facebooks that have been on your computer...

but anyways. i am just sitting here trying to do things.. like homework and not eating peanut butter.

you know whats lame but just gave me a really good idea for a topic of blogging? To do lists.

TO DO LISTS AND ME.

to do lists and me go together like peanut butter, jelly and honey. sometimes a bite will be like, " awww, jelly :))" and other times itll be like, "omg, honey is there too."

but really i dont know how that last part happened. i just really want peanut butter...

anyways. for me, writing to do lists is never ever successful. it happens like this:

a miniscule shred of well-placed unorganized thought will enter my mind. and it will sit there and fester until i get frantic with unorganization and my mind goes, "...pstttt! jenna? write a friggin to do list. get it all out. you'll feel like a winner"

determined, i go for writing utensils and success. this time will be different.

i get paper and title it the ever cliche name for to do lists...." TO DO LIST" and my pen starts a flyin.

as i get through more and more things that i need to do, "clean my room, wash my car, do my homework..." i start to get really discouraged. :( and im like man, i have so many things to do.

so i start to play tricks on my mind. i try to outsmart my own conscience. i begin writing things that are so easy, even a mentally handicapped caveman could do it. "draw a star on this to do list, clip my fingernails, draw a whole GALAXY, get the mail, eat some peanut butter."

and then. it feels so awesome that i start subconciously writing things that ive already done.

" get out of bed, check facebook for the 5849037689357834th time today, brush teeth, text some people, BE AWESOME!"

i tell myself, jenna...you have done so much today. you deserve a break, champ.

and that people, is called the beautiful combination of busy, lazy, organized and procatination that is Jenna Grace Ricks.

this is a cool story that could change your life.

 Once upon a time, Mother Nature decided she was really bored. She was getting tired of the same routine of changing the weather for amusement, and she thought it would be nice to ditch her maternal responsibilities and screw with some peoples lives. She called up her BFF Father Time and asked if he would join in. Homeboy was too, itching for excitement due to his boring tasks of making things older. so he willingly accepted. (Foreshadowing: Last time Father Time got bored, Benjamin Button was born. things are bound to go South)

they decided that their first target would be selected at random. They planned out a fool-proof scheme of selection. Momma Nature snatched up a map of the world from her ever plentiful collection and ripped it into pieces. She then caused the winds to carry it up into the sky. Father Time threw his really decked out pocketwatch and managed to randomly lasso one of the pieces. They shared a brief and totally awesome high five to celebrate their creativity. Sketched upon the miniscule shred of map, was the city of Bakersfield CA. Their stage had been set.

All that was left to do was select one single soul to torture. They had to choose fast because things were gettin kinda screwy with the world being ditched by Mother Nature and all. (Tsunami in Thailand) Mother Nature descended upon Bako and began searching for the victim. After many hours she decided that there was too many people so she plucked a tiny flower of death from her hair and threw it up into the air. Whoever it landed on would be the chosen one. (that was the day i got my first ulcer)

the person had been selected and after days of planning, the two parents of evilness and suckfestness came to their conclusion. Mother Nature contributed that the girl would fall in love (harsh). Then Father Time's input was that it would be right before he left for college (ergo the worst time possible) and that they would have to wait an obnoxiously long time to be together again.

Satisfied, they skipped of into the sunset to watch their plan take action.

and here i am.

Jenna grace. kinda like Beyonce.

have you guys ever thought of your famous name? because i do. you see, being a wickedly successful blogger and what not, my hand is a little less than forced to think about such things. so, ive concluded that my famous name would be jenna grace. my surmen will be obviously disappointed that they could not affiliate themselves with me. but thats one less christmas card im willing to accept.

but really if you must know, this topic was brought to my attention because i joined what i like to call "The Feather Frenzy" across the globe people think its cool to take feathers and put them on their heads. history, my friends, is in fact repeating itself. (thank you native americans)

im secretly really into my feather. i think its the coolest thing thats ever happened to my head. i even talk to it sometimes cause im scared it'll get upset if i blowdry it. so i stick my head in front of the fan and tell my feather that its just wind. i wonder if anyone else does that. anyways...

what does this have to do with my name? not a whole lot. but i figure when im famous ill put things in my hair and start a worldwide phenomenon that will ultimately make me the coolest person alive.

story time: ( best if read in your head really intensely and preferably with your eyes squinted and mysterious)
it was a medium temperatured day in east bakersfield, a young girl, pink backpack confidently in hand, walked home for a playdate with her best friend, jill. (names have been changed for temporary dramatic effect) they happily pranced up to her room, unaware that something awesome was lurking in their future.
during a heated game of princesses, jill and young girl decided that they needed some wicked awesome costumes to go with their identites. they selected a beaded necklace to wear about their heads, hitting just above the eyebrows. young girl had an idea. "lets wear these to school tomorrow"

a legend was born.

days passed and slowly but surely jill and girl had almost every girl in their class wearing necklaces on their heads. even an upperclassmen, a 4th grader, decided to join in the wave of fashion. teachers whispered as the children passed, wildly jealous of their success in life. i distinctly remember one teacher asking another about "the necklace cult"....and 3rd grade year was never the same. yes, young girl was me. and "jill" was paige.

history, could very well repeat itself.

i didnt post this ten minutes after my last post.

i have realized that i should not have canceled word of the blog. but. todays word is gonna make up for it. cause its gonna be awesome. its one of my favorite types of words.... : words that, when placed directly in front of an insult, makes the insult burn much much worse.

Pretentious!

i heard someone use this on someone else...even i felt intimidated.
i honestly have no idea what that word means. but i promise, you put that word in front of an insult, and you will seem a billion times more intimidating.
your welcome.

my body hates my guts.

today i outran sickness. thats right,children. sickness aint got nothin on THIS!
basically, i remember feeling sick and then the next thing i knew i was running frantically down the street. its cool how i totally showed sickness whos boss.

for all you runners out there, im really curious about something and maybe you can help. this happens when you are going about your running routine, getting toned tanned fit and ready, and you happen to pass someone else doing exercise things on the road. im talking about the brief and awkwardly polite moment of time.

Brief and awkwardly polite moment of time

you see the person approaching. you immediately realize you do not in fact know said person. person gets closer, your eyes meet, and something posesses both parties to do this polite little smile of recognition. you could have absolutely no connection other than satisfactory physical discipline in common. but we all do it. its the "hey.... your excercising!!... ha, me too....cool beans..." look.

while im please with the exceptional politeness of the active public, i have to say that i wish sometime someone will just give me a look that says something else. perhaps "you look like a goddess with your lime green sports bra and white shirt. keep it up, sexy." or maybe "im really tired and sweaty....so im gonna go head and look away when we make eye contact."

yeah thats all i got. sorry for canceling word of the blog.

boom. metaphors.

has anyone ever sat and marveled at your pool? there is a great possibility this is just my obsessive metaphorical mind speaking, but water has a way of making me think i guess.

the way each pixel of light illustrates movement. its constantly in motion though nothing appears to be disturbing the surface. it looks as though shadows are continuously tattooing themselves to the bottom. its an untangible dance of light and movement. each silent tear drop or fighting insect can send tiny shockwaves across the water- making them muralized and then they disappear within seconds.

as i floated across my pool, i created an orchestra of motion. each gesture- large or small fast or slow- had its own unique shadow to paint. i guess because of where im at in life, the best connection i could make was that people have an equal effect on our lives. one tiny little spark of movement, can set our whole lives in motion.

Semi annual Emotional Post. yayyy.

i started writing a book when i was 8 years old. its called, "wait for me." kinda sad, with definite hints of pathetic. it told a story of a little girl who got left all the time. she fantasized about her siblings freezing their age and waiting for her to grow up. ive accepted the fact that my siblings will never freeze the hands on their biological clocks and wait for me to be their age. ive accepted that my book will never get published because im pretty sure i spelled "wait" wrong. ive even accepted that my family leaves and so will i eventually. i just dont understand why everyone else has to go.

it seems as though my girl friends, guy friends and crushes all are dropping like flies. its been that way for awhile. my closest friends growing up hardly ever talk to me anymore; friends that were so important i thought id never live without them. now they just picked up and left. people are going on missions and to college and it doesnt help that Valley Oaks is cursed and no one stays there for more than one year. (with me as the only exception, its totally true)

i have two biggest fears in life: getting paralyzed, and change. (the second seems more relevant, i suppose)
yeah so what if i am scared of change? change sucks. im afraid of what will happen if devan moves. im afraid that i wont be able to replace the friends i made at valley oaks this year. im afraid of the changes that are inevitably waiting for me at the end of the summer.
my best friend is moving now too. so this whole topic is really reallllllyyy starting to get sensitive. can everyone just stay in my life? why do you all have to leave? i get that we learn lessons from eachother and new people are coming into our lives all the time and old ones have to go eventually bla bla bla just keep your chin up. but can i just be a little bit unoptimistic for a second? can i just not look at my "life long perspective"? can i just stomp my foot and say that this really isnt fair? screw this, man.

Get Down with The Sickness part II

Motion Sickness is like Justin Beiber: its not the absolute worst, but being exposed to it inflicts trauma to everyone involved. Sadly, i jenna grace ricks have been a victim of motion sickness my whole life. as i've grown older, i have gotten a little better. cars no longer phase me. but someone along the timeline of history decided to invent a machine called the "rollercoaster" i believe said person mercilessly had me in mind.

yesterday i went to the happiest place on earth with my boyfriend and his family. thinking that disneyland would be a safe and secure haven from motion sickness, i decided to not press the issue of medicine. but something new came into the picture. it is called California Adventure. side note: will someone please explain to me why millions and billions of dollars were devoted to creating a giant shrine to California? ohhhh yess the magical land of sky high taxes and uninspired educational systems. anyways, basically California Adventure doesnt screw around with childish rides. no. California Adventure is too good for that shiz. California Adventure wants to make you scream.  maybe i should hop on to my story. sooo i was feeling pretty awesome walking into the park. i knew that disneyland was totally safe from sick-inducing rides (minus those stupid tea cups of death) so innocently i believed by first Californian Adventure would also be safe. i have too much faith in the unknown.

when im in a scary situation, my mind likes to imagine me getting sick and then falling and then dying.  so when sweet little jakey poo told me about a ferris wheel, i was at first, cautiously tolerant of death and humiliation via wheel. that is, until i saw it. this thing was taller than the hotel next to it. it was 600ft of destruction.  my concernification meter dangerously spiked into freak out mode. not good.

the time i decided not freaking out would be an achievable goal:
 i tried casually and non chalantly suggesting to jake that we should wait for his parents. but he knows me quite well actually which was an unfair advantage, so he caught on immediately to my plan and shut it down with lightening mcQueen speed. well, lines torture your mind with the idiocy of what your about to do. designer of the ferris wheel strategically placed it so that it was surrounded by water. i was trapped. but i wasnt gonna let Jake know that i was going through layers of mental breakdowns in my head. breakdowns=not sexy. so what did i do? i txted my mommy. and i may or may not have teared up a little. but i desperately hung onto my hopes of not freaking out.advice: if you dont want to appear lame and hopelessly uncool, do not hang on to the edge of the ride for dear life. and screamin like a small child probably doesnt help your case... or telling the little girl in front of you never to get a boyfriend. just sayin. but in all fairness to me, the stupid homeboy in the witty uniform forgot his numbers and decided it would be cool to let our seat go an extra round. needless to say, i did not succeed in reaching my goal.

oh yeah and the epecially lovely part about motion sickness for me is that all rational thought leaves my mind. and i am the most easily influenced person ever. i let people lead me onto huge roller coasters. my body becomes an unconcerned shell of indifference so i left my well-being in the hands of my peers. and i found myself on the infamous "california screamin"

after the nausea passed, i gained back a reasonable fraction of thought and emotional security which pretty much lasted me the night. wooooo.

but no, it was a great day. can i just say that i love Jake? i cant really get that out over facebook cause i think girls sound juvenile when they do that. but i do, he's amazing and im sooooo lucky that he (most likely) still finds me attractive. and that he makes me conquer my fears. and in the car he even saw me sleeping and still thinks im pretty and you all should be jealous that i have the best boyfriend in the whole world. :)

Zit happens

zits are like the devil's most clever tool.
 (have an open metaphorical mind throughout this post, it'll help.)
stick with me here. one day, you awake. and you dont know anything is going to be wrong. you feel normal- blood is pumping, lungs are breathing, eyes are blinking...the basics of a good day already covered. you lay in bed for a minute like you usually do, subconsciously aware that the bed is the safe zone, and you do not yet have to face the challenges of life. you milk this safe zone time for all its worth, but eventually.. we all have to get up and enter the unsafe zone. (metaphor numero uno)
 
Morning routines for hygienically sound persons usually involve a trip to the bathroom to cover the whole teeth brushing, deodorant applying, and hair brushing responsibility. but people, most bathrooms involve mirrors. and sooner or later...we all have to take a look at ourselves. (i didnt really mean for this one to happen, but it did so...metaphor 2!) and sometimes... right in the place where you least expected or wanted... there is a zit. a big zit. one that inflicts fear and emotional trauma to everyone it comes in contact with.
 
zits can just sliiiidddee into your life and ruin it. (metaphoorrrrr!! 3!!) like i said, its the devils smallest but most clever form of temptation. NO ONE is in a christ like mood when they discover a zit on their face. soo, you go about your day. its not the end of the world. but its the end of your chances for that day to be a good one. you find that you didnt say goodmorning  to someone. because your "zit" has made it a sucky morning. so for someone to say goodmorning is like slapping you right in the zit. you didnt smile at the hobo with the sign specifically saying that even a smile will help. because... just a smile will NOT help you. therefore, it should not help hobo guy.
 
and its not like you dont try to get rid of the zit. who wants to be in a zitty mood all the time? (metaphor.... phor!:))))) you try washing it off, applying all sorts of lame remedies, reading and following the extremely obvious directions on the back of the foul smelling acne cream bottle. but nothing works. you are stuck with the zit for who knows how long. it could be a day, could be 3 years, either way... you better just deal with the zit at hand.
 
profound quote i both enjoy and exjoy thinking about: "if things are bad, don't worry..they'll change. if things are good..dont worry they'll change."
 
zit happens. it just matters about how you deal with it. (metaphor cincuenta) but one day soon, everyone, you will wake up and your zit will be gone. :) and you'll enjoy life again. and  when someone says goodmorning, you'll say something really cool and intelligent sounding like "isnt it?" and then you'll just feel ridiculously awesome and zit-free.
next time you get a zit. you can always call me. i got the best acne meds in the world.
 
... that was metaphor 6 and also quite possibly the most metaphorical and profoundly incredible thing ever said. :) :) :) i feel so cool right now.

common sense says......

common sense is a strange and beautiful concept for some people. for others, it comes pretty naturally. (me, john stamos, jack bauer and some other select few) at any rate, lets talk about the proud and plentiful who do not posess this mysterious mental phenomena.

it might be beneficial to read this like a gameshow. and common sense is like a big wheel. and when it says "common sense says...." it gets really dramatic and bob barker throws his unmicrophoned hand in the air when the answer is announced. k go.

shall we start off with the idiots who made a frying pan with a metal handle? lets break this down, people... metal carries heat. heat is hot. heat burns people who trust in the production of user friendly frying pans. like me. due to the fact that i was craving potstickers and was incredibly enthusiastic in reaching for the handle of death and destruction, the fingers of my left hand no longer have fingerprints. just kidding. but it hurts really bad. does putting metal on a vital part of a heat-cooking utensil seem like a brilliant move? common sense says!!!..... no.

what else? ummmm maybe this does not particularly deal with common sense, maybe more along the lines of courtesy. but is it just me, or does it seem incredibly rude to make a curling iron in which the handle and the iron are the same color? do you guys catch my drift? reaching for a curling iron while your busy holding your hair and your dignity with your other hand, could prove to be seriously detrimental to your beloved hands.  all im asking for is some peripheral vision friendly curling irons in the world. because yes, my left thumb has a pretty jacked up print now. and i think that maybe it could cause me to be able to get away with murder. just a thought.

back to the lack of common knowledge in the world. like dvd players in which if you lose the remote, your player becomes desperately worthless. its an accepted fact of life that americans lose remotes. we know, its ok. italians are good at food and asians suck at driving. and americans lose remotes. everyone knows. so why, oh dvd company, made in the US, would you make such a condescending and evil device? common sense says!!....cause you're an idiot.

i suppose i could go on. no, im positive i could go on. but its a little cynnical and redundant because im just trying to give a wonderful blanket judgement with: everyone in the whole world is stupid except me, john stamos, jack bauer and bob barker (i added the last one in cause i remember what a smart and beautiful salt and peppered man he is)

author's note: for those of you who want to avoid humans who don't have common sense, here are a few things previously mentioned that you should look out for: Enzo Milano curling irons, Thomas Rosenthal frying pans, and Clearplay dvd systems. good luck.

holy crap! guys i forgot word of the ...blog! so this is me one day later, correcting my terribly uncooth move.
word of the...blog!
Ambrosial (am-brose-eee-ullll): delightful. "Avoiding stupid people and things will inevitably make your life more ambrosial."

serious post. you might cry.

i think i've figured life out.
HA! yeah right. jenna grace ricks will never figure life out. but a part of it has recently revealed its rearing ugly face. yes. that was a sentence with alot of r's. say it out loud. its sufficiently entertaining.
but, lets delve into my innermost thoughts. ready? ok.
so we start out as children, meandering through life, adhering to our responsibilites to grow teeth and walk and all that jazz. but as soon as the grand architect instills the ability to attain rational thought, life tells us its ok to tell children that there are super cool magical creatures that give us presents and candy but you cant see them ever because its the law of grownuphood. so we are subconciously incredibly envious of adults, who are in cahoots with the tooth fairy and santa and the easter bunny. this is when it all begins. we look forward to the day that we too will become BFF's with jolly old saint nick.
we get older. but now we've figured out that those things dont exist. so we look forward to the next age group. we are told that dating, driving and dressing ourselves is the shiz and that is the place to be age wise. but once we get there, we again are disappointed with the knowledge that driving gets old, dressing ourselves was riveting for the first 20 seconds until everyone else's clothes are better and dating is awesome until we fall too deep and get hurt. what do we do? our automatic programming makes us look up again to the age where we move out and fall in real love and can stay out passed 11:00. until living off top ramen gets dangerous to our health, our hearts are crushed into 7 million pieces and you have nothing to do after 11:00 besides study your butt off. and once we're married, kids take up all our time, and we sometimes wish we had no responsibility. it goes on and on.
this is what i call the viscious cycle of age and desire. and it is stupid. don't let it get you. because you'll find that being on your own means not having mom to make you dinner and make sure no one hurts you and driving is cool, but you secretly wish you can fit in your nephew's tonka truck. and being old means losing faith in the wonders of the unknown. and it all starts with the santa and the easter bunny.
you may be asking yourself a variety of questions at the moment.
1) why is jenna so friggin profound and amazing?
2) who does this chick think she is?
3) how does she know this?
4) can jenna read minds?
answer to all:   yes. :P
hehe no. i just have a different perspective. i know things from talking to my siblings. who are, because of my parents poor planning, are at all these different levels of life. i think this is just my really long and complicated way to say, growing up sucks.
ohhh goodness. and the dumb thing about the vicious cycle of age and desire is that we all know we're in it. but we cant help looking into the future with an overwhelming desire to rock it. cycles are dumb. no one ever wins.
so i think im gonna take this mess called life slow. because i have divine knowledge suckas. and i know that when im 30, im gonna wish i was right here sitting on the couch with my parents, txting my first boyfriend and blogging about things i think i know stuff about.


word of the blog
Lachrymose- (lack-ri-moe-ssssssss)- sad, tearful.
upon realizing that her butt was too large to fit into the toy car, her mood turned extremely lachrymose.

this post is about birds. and it could possibly be really lame or really funny. so. consider yourself warned.

i've always been taunted by the powers of flight posessed by our fine winged friends. until this weekend.

 guys, birds are stupid.

let me back up.

friday morning was my first day of spring break. yay for spring. eggs hatching, trees blossoming, children laughing right? well, yes. those things happen. but also, nature decides to be on excessive doses of happy pills. every creature with vocal systems wants to proclaim very loudly that it is in fact spring and they are in fact awake. which is fine.. except at 7:00 in the morn.

Friday morning i woke up to loud chirping. i rubbed my tired, insomniatic eyes and sought out the source of previously mentioned noise. my window is located directly above my bed. this has not been a problem of significant disturbance until now. a plump sparrow had positioned its battle station inches from my head. it was chirping at it's reflection. it was strutting its feathers seductively and prouncing around like a boss. yes everyone, this sparrow was trying to mate with its reflection. (conceited? yes.)  the realization of the potential emotional and mental trauma that could be inflicted, raced through my head. i watched the bird in silent horror, drawing up a game plan.

my first action: chirp back. i tried to chirp in the tone that would give off the "not interested" impression. but this determined little soul of a bird would not back down from his happily ever after. i proceeded to tap, press my face against the glass, scream, and other things that would scare a usual bird. but no. i decided to give up and go about my daily activities.

hours later i returned. the sparrow was still trying faithfully to win his dream girl. as i sat watching, another sparrow, of a more in shape variety, flew into obese sparrow's territory. to my digust, it too was trying to win the reflection. obese sparrow got a little power hungry (get it? hungry...) and straight up ghetto stomped skinny sparrow into the roof. well tried.

this is the ONLY thing that still made me want to be a bird: epic mid-air battles. we've all seen them. we've all secretly wished we could have one.

i was enthrolled in the dramatic fight. i watched them chase eachother around my property, suddenly disappearing and reappearing behind trees and houses. and then... they were gone.

my life had turned meaningless. i was intensely bored. and depressed. i want my sparrow soap opera back. so what did i do??
i chirped.
yes, i took of the indentity of the hot reflected sparrow and chirped for my warriors to return.
but it did not happen. and i started to worry. i knew obese sparrow couldnt last much longer. so i decided to lure them back. but how? what do birds like? well there was an obvious and inconveinent lack of worms in my room so that was out of the question. but then, i realized: birds like to sing! so began playing my sparrow friends music to invite them to return and duke it out over my window.
i started out pretty strong. thinking that some pumpin rap would attract them.

but B.O.B did not work his magic. i thought that might be a little too intense so i took it down a notch. whenever im in a pissy mood, i turn on my man michael buble. i love me some michael buble.

unfortunately, his silky voice did not make my birds return. i was about  to give up. my resources were exhausted and i didnt know what to do.
then it came to me.

yes i began singing. after 3 mintues of me singing jack johnson, my obese sparrow came back! it looked triumphant and determined as ever. skinny sparrow has yet to show himself. i do not care to know what happened to him.

i think this is the universe telling me that me and jack johnson should record together.
but anyways obese sparrow has been there for two days now. hopefully he doesnt get too physical with his attempts to woo my window. i'll keep everyone posted.



word of the blog time!!! you thought i forgot didnt you??

todays word of the blog: "Salubrious" (sa-loo-bree-ussss) : giving health/ good for one's health.

- " Wathing sparrows fight over a window is significantly salubrious"

Fulminate!!!! ..it'll make more sense later.... maybe.

there are so many things in my head right now. ahhh i feel like i'm going to explode.
first of all, i've made a decision. ready? it might change your life. probably not. but it could.
guys, i've been contemplating life again, as i often do. i decided that if i want to get spectacularly rich and famous off this blog, i should start posting things slightly more beneficial to other humans. i've been extremely selfish, i apologize.
so to be ridiculously helpful and conscientious of other people's needs, i am going to make a legit segment called, "word of the...blog" yes. kinda like the ever-helpful "word of the day" but not. because i don't post everyday and that would just be confusing to everyone involved. k ready? Exciting.

"word of the...blog" : Fulminate (Fuhl'..min' eight)- to issue a thunderous verbal attack. "the human fulminated against the cat's decision to exist." :)
use it today, i dare you.
 im kinda hyper right now, so im just gonna go with it. :)))
ok story time: once upon a time, in a little school down the road, (yes, i did once receive real public education) there was a second grade girl. this youngin was very serious about her education. she was aspiring to be a Veterinarian/ Princess, and was taking all the necessary steps to fulfill her life goals. one day, her teacher woke up and decided that it would be a good day to confuse the minds of innocent 7 yr olds. she put her plan into mischievous action. after an metally exhausting and agonizing lesson of long division, she called the class to attention and made her way over to the bookshelf. she spoke these words, "class, today we are going to learn about the wonders of the thesaurus."
the first thought that pulsed through our minds was, of course, "heck yes! Dinosaurs!" and we imagined all the possible unfortunate looking combinations of dinosaur that would make up the super cool thesaurus. finally the day was looking promising. but, no. she instead selected a huge book off the shelf that was not in fact about dinosaurs, but words. basically, a big fat book of disappointment. the mood turned solemn and gloomy. our fragile hopes of entertainment were devastated. this lesson evolved into an hour long lecture, filled with confusion, psychological deterioration, and sadness. ever since, we all shared a common hatred and distaste for this literary device.( sidenote: i think its funny thats there's no point in printing anymore of them because theyre now automatically imbedded into microsoft word. haha)
but today, i decided to make amends.
i went to my library at school, on a determined mission to appreciate thesauruses again, and forgive them for the mental torture that they had knowingly inflicted. i started with something small. "awesome."
the thesaurus once again, significantly disappointed.
listed as one of the "synonyms" for awesome. was... "hairy."
hairy? oh thesaurus. you will never be nearly as relevant or cool as a dinosaur.
unsuccessful day all in all, i suppose.

or was it?? :)

the day i decided im gonna be a grown up.

greetings. thats what you say when your formally greeting someone like we adults often do. :)
haha.
NO.  today was unsuccessful.
i woke up around 8. good start, birds singing, things were beginning to look productive. i was laying in bed, my thoughts freely embellished by my own imagination, when i recieved an epiphany: today im gonna do grown up stuff. and it will be awesome.

my start? an athletic jog. because grown ups care about stuff like blood pressure and cholesterol and working off the 5 thumbprints cookies they may or may not have inhaled the night before.
so i departed at around 8:30 into the crisp morning air. it started great. fellow adult passerbys gave me encouraging looks and nature itself seemed to be cheering me on. but then, my lack of focus on the task at hand caused me to let my mind wander into sweet oblivion. i promptly convinced myself that i was going to be devoured by wild dogs of prey. terrified i cautiously continued my jog without my earphones in, so that i could hear an attacker if one presented itself. childhood paranoia set in and i soon found myself running wildly and desperately from what turned out to be a bunny.
it was running away from me... i admitted to myself that i had failed miserably at my first adult task. but, the day was young.
i returned home at 10:00. i trotted upstairs to my room and plopped myself down on my bed. what else could i do that was adulty? mature? sexy-sophisticated?
 i settled on yoga.
yoga? how is that a smart choice for someone who does not posess the required elasticity for such an activity? but it seemed logical. so i turned on the closest thing to soothing indian music i could find (nora jones) and flipped open to some yoga poses in a magazine i had randomly there in my room.
first one. "peeking crane?" i felt so cool.
but then i attempted it. this was some next-level shiz. my arms and legs were twisted into a painful and akward cornicopia of limbs.
needless to say, my version contrasted sharply to the desired result. determined, i found a pose (at the end) that i could do! i was totally psyched. i enthusiastically searched for the name of my newly mastered pose so that i could share with everyone how awesome i am .and my eyes settled on the words:
CHILD'S POSE
my head hung in despair. i had again failed grownuphood.
did this stop me? pshhh ofcourse not! i dont give up...easily.
i reasoned that grownups like to clean things. so i got into a crazed organizing mood. i began to clean my entire room floor to ceiling. which was working out awesome! until i decided i wanted a lamp.
lampsssss.
i selected the lamp from my old room. that meant taking the lamp shade off and transporting the pieces seperately to my room. simple enough? you'd think so. but no. because "ridin solo" came on my ipod. jason derulo's intoxicating voice floated to my ears. soon enough i found myself (im not proud of this) dancing in the mirror with the lamp shade as a hat and the lamp post thingy as a microphone. i got pretty into it. i was a friggin rockstar and it was awesome. but then the song ended. i was left, microphone in hand, staring at my shaded face in the mirror. i smelled like dust and failure. :(       
this event caused me to implode into the realization that i am not cut out for adulthood.
but guys. things turned out ok. because something happened....my mom came upstairs.
mom: you have two minutes to look presentable. we're going to the church broadcast.
me: whhhaaat?? momm noooo pleaaase dont make me gooo! i dont wannnaaa!!!
mom: stop. your going.
me: nooo but imm not feeling gooood anddd i donnt wanna please nooooo!!
mom:.... im in the car.
me: ahhhhhhhhh!
to get back at her in the most childish way possible i decided to look awful so she'd be embarassed to be seen with me.

i did not feel inclined to put on a dress. so i stayed in my lime green sports bra and spanks. haha but to avoid shameful looks from everyone involved, i put on an attractive trench coat and my sexy boots. no one suspected anything. well, other than i need to take a shower and learn how to apply lipstick.

happy ending. :) childish ways are my ways and i am awesome at them.

sneaky sleep hate spiral.

usually, im a pretty freaking awesome-responsible-self sufficient human who can play the piano with my feet and lots of other notable shiz. i get up exactly 10 minutes before my 6:00 seminary class. somehow hop outta bed and pull myself together with exactly 45 seconds to spare
. but today, my awesomeness deteriorated. :( and the sneaky sleep hate spiral set in.
its what i call your progression through the phases of complete physical and mental exhaustion.

phase one:  realization that today you are going to be completely drained.
 i woke up 3 minutes before 6. USUALLY no big deal for someone as hauntingly awesome as me. but basically it was the most dramatic and intense moments of my life. it was like in those gory, nasty, but still wicked awesome movies where the hot soldier guy is bleeding from 36 different places and is still trying to crawl underneath the tank and he gets shot again and your like "oh snap. thats it. i can see his skull. thats gottttaa beeee itttt!" but he KEEPS GOING. and you cant help but feel bad for the poor soul who thinks he's gonna be successful in flee-crawling from friggin vietnam. i sunk outta bed and almost cried as i looked in the mirror and discovered that even in the dark i look like i couldve been smeagle in a different life.
phase two: optimistic denial.
 i decided to proceed with existence. "ill wake up like i usually do and have a tony the tiger friggin grrrrrreat day."
so i go to my class. expecting my eventual loss of tiredness. buttttt i dont really remember anything except for we got out 5 minutes late and that made me go into a stifled mad fit of internal rage.
being homeschooled rocks. i get to sleep. but not on tuesdays. tuesdays drain almost all my awesome. i have to go to classes all day. that is the worst thing to do when your not ready for life. amazingly, i succeeded in hiding my exhaustion from my mom so she'd let me drive to school. cause when your 15, you'd drop kick a kitten to be able to drive. or at least you'd  put you, your mom, your best friend and the citizens of bakersfield in significant danger. 
phase three. crap :(
there is little or no way around it. your just a helpless passenger in your pathetic and senseless body.
i get to school and i moved on throughout the day, pathetically adhering to my social and educational obligations. luckily first period is with eden. she let me lay on her. (people are used to it by now). 2nd period is study hall. by the end, my face had the stupid imprint of the table. tables are flat. i dont know what phenomena made that possible.
phase four: i. am. going. to. die.
exhaustion begins to exceed your capacity for rational thought. 3rd period... i was starting to feel the effects of running like 18 miles yesterday. my teacher asked me what was up. i told him i have an sleeping disorder and an ebola and im about to explode and implode at the same time and turn into a sleep deprived smeagle. my lack of rational deliverance did not impress. apparently 10th grade history teacher school did not teach sufficient training on how to handle these situations. so he made this face that said, "im not getting paid enough for this and i think that ill go home and take up knitting now." and ignored my teenage dramatics.

by spanish i basically curled up in a pathetic ball of sadness and tried my hardest to escape into jenna dream world. i day dreamed that entire class period. about the most random things in the entire world. i will not go into detail. basically. i was a latina princess sent to free the world from alram clocks and daylight savings. hmmm day dreaming...not as good as night dreaming. but its like tofu. pointless and not as good as meat but hippies and asians do it so why not.
anyways. by the end of the day im in math. dealing with tiredness and intelligent thought is not the easiest thing in the world. my psyche had been significantly penetrated by the butcher knife of tiredness. i pretty much decided that i was gonna become a hermit and a tofu loving vegetarian and live on one of the great lakes so i would never have to look at another number in my whole natural born life.
phase five: ummm... i'd sleep on a hobo.
i get home, my coordinance is questionable, and i finally see a cornicopia of surfaces resembling things that might look more appealing than a desk. you'd think i'd zombie sleep it up. but no. because my mom... made me clean... everything. :( by the time im done i find myself home alone, cold, hungry, lost, and insignificant to the world. i made myself something that looked like water in a bottle with some type of pink powder that self sufficient humans would shake but i just let it sleep at the bottom of the bottle cause i think it looked like it worked hard and deserved it. then, around 5:30 i made my journey to my room. finally.
phase six: ..........
 its dots because you dont even care about having a thought. you just crave things pertaining to sleep. and the only thing you can use to describe what happens next is indefinite dots.
my recollection of thoughts as i was completing "mission: get to room", is like this.
stairs. i can do it!!!!
one more....
door. is. closed. didnt see that coming. :(
bed=6ft away and a turn, chair= 4ft away and no complicated turns involved.
chair :)
look at my pink drink... its kinda beautiful.
cloudssssssssss....:) :) :)

i woke up three hours later in an awkward position and my phone balanced rather impressively on my face.
it is now officially 11:11. and im caught up on my sleep. so i dont expect to be returning to night dream world any time soon.
moral: if your gonna stay up till midnight talking on the phone, stalk up on excessive amounts of caffeine. :)

apparently? me and jake can pass for parents. hmmmm...

whats the most awkward part about meeting the family? being mistaken for the son's baby mama. i mean really.. cute, old, slightly intoxicated ladies of bakersfield apparently need to learn to distinguish 15 from 25. just sayin.

can we blame them though? we do make a pretty cute couple. ;)

due to the uncertain lack of security on this blog's privacy, im not gonna spill the details about why last night was amazingness. even though i want to. reeaaallly bad.

grrrr. hints? well okkaayyyy. my 6 blog followers are pretty smart people.

hint one: it was the first time this has ever happened to me. :O i know right? this homeboy has got me doin new and...exciting things after just 3 and a half months. woooooooooo.

hint numero dos:  it involves something that every little girl (particularly this one) thinks about for like ever.

hint 3: ummmmmmmmmm it was awesome. hehehe

and thats it. :)

uhhh ofcourse everyone in the whole world had to mention the fact that he's leaving in august. thanks, life. that was just awesome.

earlier that day was reagans bridal shower. that was fun. one thing you guys may not know about me, is that im a competitve little punk when it comes to insignificant shower games. honestly, i will get LIVID if i dont win allllll the stupid litttle games they make you play. like last time, i went to my bishop's daughter's bridal shower. amongst her closest friends and family, i won the "who knows her best" game. i got some interesting looks....but, i also got some lotion :))



i win:)





anyways, for reagan's shower we played the infamous "toilet paper wedding dress" game. :)

i won. :)

guess who got third? reagan. :)) hehehehehe there was only two of us! just kidding. but i did beat her. and i got chocolate.

justa day full of marriage and love and babies. goodnesss... <3

but yeah. that was my saturday, blog.



Lipstick made of cake. hehe



:)

slap bracelets, field hockey, and vegetarians.

ill be honest. the title of this post has little or no significance to the topic. i just wanted to capture people's attention.

i was just thinking about the most breath-takingly pointless things in life and BAM. slap bracelets, field hockey and vegetarianism. what. up.
slap bracelets: has anything good in life ever been prefaced by the word slap? no. to apply, you slap yourself. how is that a good idea? 
field hockey: everything is hotter on ice. (hehe)
vegetarians: meat is for the belly. boom. proven by scriptural fact based logic. :)
pointless things...hmmm...
how bout being born in the 95? the unjoys of being 15. i could go on. lets just say, were it not for the legal complications, i'd consider burning my birth certificate to a firey crisp. in my head i imagine me marching down to the hospital, kicking open the swinging doors (ive always wanted to do that) and making a grand quest to find the file of birth where i would demand, at intimidating water gunpoint, that the receptionist (someone intense like matt damon or john stamos) help me find my stupid certificate of birth. once john or matt, totally captivated by my own intensity, hands me the document, i would proceed to destroy it in like 9 different ways. then magically i'd be 16. cause thats just the logical occurance in jenna fantasy world. :)

being 15 tortures my little soul daily. it is the sole reason i am so restricted. i hate being restricted. i hate things with the word "strict" in them. like boa conSTRICTer. or, "jenna you suck at life so consider yourself officially on reSTRICTion." its just not a very peachy root word.
take notes: when my sweet, sweet liberation day comes and i am finally 16, i want a huge amazing cake with 16 obnoxiously large candles on it.
what am i gonna name this blog when im 16? honestly its been really concerning me. :( i want to name it something that will make people look at their lives differently. make them quit smoking? maybe shed a tear or two..who knows? but really.
subject change. lets talk about me. more specifically and entertaining, my eye.
yes, for the past like 8 weeks my left eye has being spazzing out for no apparent reason. this, obviously, concerned me greatly. people are starting to notice, and quite literally, laugh at my face. :( i then decided that i do NOT want to die from uncertain public humiliation and eye twitching sooo i just did some research. apparently lots of humans take eye twitching intensely serious. which is super entertaining to me. :) i typed in "chronic eye twitching death syndromes" on my handy dandy google tab... the following is my own trusty synopsis of what i read on the oddly plentiful eye twitching sites:
i could die.. :(
im being a big baby and i should just calm it down cause my eye is just doing its thing.
i could have minor brain damage, epolepsy or i could be skitzo. hmmm....
caused by: staring at a computer screen for too long... O.o and/ or excessive doses of caffeine. hehe :)
the cure?? "botox injections." haha alrighty then. botox at 15. me and my mom can get mommy/daughter botox sessions. hello, girls night :)
there is an online support group from others suffering from eye twitching complications...yuussss! FINALLY!
imagine my confusion. google is super contridictating.
but my answer came from... a blog. :) this homeboy is a very bored teenager that decided it would be a good idea to name his blog "blog from another demention" really, dude? i do not know what posessed me to click on that. but i did. and it comforted me greatly. because i kid you not, according to Luis, "eye twitching is hawt." thank you, luis.

wish me luck on being 15.9 and dying from eye twitching issues.

doodles.... O.o

personally i belive that doodles are the window to the soul. why? lets break this down logically. when your sitting in class, totally zoned and not interested in becoming unzoned anytime soon, you draw without even really thinking. you draw whats on your mind. your hand just starts a'goin and before you know it, your english lecture is covered in your poorly illustrated thoughts.

but ill have everyone know that no one. doodles. like. me.  due to the fact that i am homeschooled and have excessive amounts of perpetual boredom on my hands...i have gotten super amazing at doodling. i can draw stars and stick figures like nobodys business. and quite frankly, if there was a doodle olympics, i'd OWN.

the thing that is so beautiful about doodling is you dont have to be an exceptional drawer at all. ask me to draw a dog, and it would probably resemble something of the turtle/elephant family.  (dont ask.) but tell me to draw a stick figure plunging its spear into the "vocabulary word bank" and your mind would be notably blown.

secret time?? well, okayyyy. :)

i even have segments of doodles. its really very pathetic. but i just have to quench my boredom and, id say, in doing so, my studenthood has been significantly enhanced.

so i had to take the CAHSEE this week and basically i work faster than a bat outta heck therefore i was done hours before the other homeschooled citizens of bakersfield. but i didnt want to go back to class. so. i. doodled. a lot. you are all probably just reading in rapture, wondering what my segments of doodles might be. well there is "jennanese calligraphy", "dope dr. suess drawings", "oxymorons!!", "hey, what is that dot doing?" and "lyrics in creative picture form."

lyrics in creative picture form

:)

your confused now, but next time you find yourself doodling, your gonna think of me.

Monday's profound..ity.

    uh ohhh. jennas been contemplating life again.
i wish that life was one of those magic 8 balls. then i can be like, " heyyyy life! am i supposed to go to _____?" then i would promptly shake it and life would reveal the appropriate answer accordingly.

do you think that theres a plan for each individual person? like your supposed to go here and meet this person and learn this lesson and then BAMMM! your life is set.
but thats just it. what if we're not suppppoooosssseeeddd to do anything? just go wherever and we'll learn all the big lessons no matter where we are.
 ------hold on im on the phone with jakey poo and he's mildly distracting. <3 ------
ok so anyways im back in my centimental mood.
but really. i have been thinking about my life and other human's lives and i just wish i knew all the answers like magic 8 ball life does. ive officially decided that nothing is permanently "in the cards" for me or anyone else. and honestly? if God super wanted us to learn a certain lesson or whatever, then He's gonna do His thing no matter where we are physically. and as far as people go? i think its retarded to be all "i need to move because what if my future hubby is in Maine or Ohio or friggin Virginia??" because your gonna meet the person your really meant for one way or another. and that person wasnt made for you. that person was made to complete you and be your BFF and do crazy psycho things for you that make no logical sense at the time but its just because he loves you and---
....
new topic anyone?? yes. alright. sooo...
story time: this one, boys and girls, is about a little girl with a big dream that she had for 10 minutes before it came true.
once upon a time, there was a girl. she was weird. she was also 12. so... nuff said. anyways, said child enjoyed odd activites. such as dressing up in weirdo clothes with her best friend Paige and terrorizing the inhabitants of the local target. but really. it was April 18, 2006 and she was awkwardly celebrating preteenism at Target when something inspired her to look up. above the noise of spring shoppers and the glare of the obnoxiously red decor she beheld a strange sight: windows overlooking the store. she, being the nosey and fearless homegirl that she was, decided to approach the manager and ask him why the heck there are creepy windows spying on our lives at target. Manager revealed that the windows were to offices of the workers behind the scenes. upon closer examination, the little girl saw the silhouette of desks and computers and one bouquet of flowers (swear on my life, those flowers are still there)

she thought that this was just about the coolest friggin thing she had ever heard of in her tender little life and told her mom and friend about her discovery. her words were "mom. it is now my goal in life to go up into those offices. one day, i will do such thing." Now, this young girls mother enjoyed humoring her to the fullest extent because she knew that the little girl was a special little thing and deserved the best dreams in life. so she secretly talked to the manager while her daughter and friend went to sword fight with pool toys. approximately 8 minutes later, a voice came over the store requesting that a j**** r**** meet her "party" at costumer service. she thought "cool beans mom, way to use available resources instead of getting me a phone." but nonetheless, she went. there, Manager instructed her not to scream. which was weird and super creeepy and i dont know why he didnt choose better words to communicate his message. then he said that he was going to take them on a grand tour of the unknown. he instructed the girls to follow. they climbed a spiral staircase behind customer service and walked through the offices. i simultaneously saw EVERYthing ever in that store. yes, everyone. that little girl was me. and i have been in the offices overlooking the target on Mall View street. and the manager's name is Ernesto. and we are stilll friends and i smile and wave at him everytime i go to target... and now, me and paige return every year on my birthday. and that is how my almost 4 yr old dream of working at target, came to pass.

this ties into my theme of profoundity because in the end, we should just look up.




hehe ohhhhh my gosh that was precious. i feel so cool right now.

The day being mormon almost cost me my life: feel free to be intrigued.

today, i woke up to something beautiful... 9:30. i was just so stinking content that life let me sleep that long. i then stayed in bed for at least 10 minutes with my ipod on and my window open casting brilliant shades of light into my room. needless to say, my morning was going awesome.

upon deciding that i should probably do something mildly productive, i noticed a strange sound coming from downstairs. i discarded my concern and was still adamant about continuing my spectacular mood.

my morning routine came regularly: dance a bit, ponder the events of the day before (or in this case night) , brush teeth, straighten up room and so on.

stay with me now. here it comes.

walking downstairs in not a easy feat for someone as tired and simple minded as me. but i managed. then... the previous concern arousing noise got louder and my concern flag had officially been raised.

concernification one) noise.

concernification two) my mother was in the kitchen, fully dressed for the day, with...makeup on!

concernification three) she was wearing...an APRON. D:

ok now, mormon mothers are known for their inability to decifer logical ideas from pointless time consuming pain-in-the-tush ideas.
i noticed that a large vat or couldron of some sort was on the stove. it was shaking violently like the devil himself was about to burst out at any given time (source of previously mentioned noise) and there were a variety of cans scattered about. i do not know why i didnt recognize the danger, grab my 72hour kit, and run...but i did not. unfortunately i fell potential victim to mormon momism.

i had to ask... right? thats what you do when your concerned. you ask. ":mooommm...what in the heck..is going on?"

"im pressure canning meat!!!"

"are you cereal??"

"not entirely sure how to answer that, dear daughter... but yeah and the best part is...we can blow up any second cause this is extremely dangerous in a variety of ways!"

mommmyyy dearest that is the last thing i wanted to hear. because, as you all know.. my ficticious add ons can get pretty powerful. i wont recall them because they are a little graphic but basically in a matter of minutes i imagined me slowly and painfully dying in like 12 different scenarios. i made a foolproof game plan. i would stay in my room, wait for the inferno, and jump out my window carrying my valuables.

but no. because another part of being a mormon mom is making your children clean everything ever. so i was trapped...in the kitchen...inches away from couldron o' death...

time passed. not sure how long ofcourse due to the fact that i was pondering life and death while doing dishes about to explode. but it did. and soon it was time to see what my mother had conocted.

she turned off killer vat only to reveal like 5 cans of greasy, unappetizing, yellowy chicken. ok really? my eyes shifted out the window to our chicken coop in the backyard. shivers went down my disturbed little spine. my mother..sweet, sweet mother exclaimed "COOL!!!" and went off about how revolutionary and tear-jerkingly beautiful it is to put raw chicken in a can, then into death pot, and 45 minutes later have pot pie ready chicken. apparently our lives and the lives of our neighbors within a 2 mile radius are worth the deliciousity and conveniency of pressure canned meat.

that was 5 hours ago. shes. still. going.... my house?? anihilated....

with the smell of chicken. 

my life will be delicately hanging by a thread until my mom has sufficiently stocked our house with cans of meat. and for nothing. because there is..no freaking way...im eating that chicken.

the end.