READ ME. THIS IS AWESOME.

originally i came on my blog because i am having writers block on my 10 page research paper due in 2 days. So the logical remedy for me is nonsensical writing about things in my life. it loosens the creative juices, apparently.

my topic was going to be on grammatical errors of the general public and how much not only they themselves piss me off, but how people who obsessviely correct them piss me off, too. but then something sort of awesome happened. (i say sort of awesome because im not entirely sure if this information is truly as cool as im about to make it sound)

so as i was logging into my account, i noticed the format had changed. not surprising because my last post was in january and thus i am out of the blogspot loop. those of you who know me or think you know me, might already be aware of the fact that i am not....how you say.. good..?...at change. so i was not very thrilled about the whole thing. but of course, like facebook and other conforming social sites, you have absolutely no choice in the layout of the program.

ANYWAYS, this post pretty much all boils down to what happened next. so, like, stop skimming and actually pay attention now.

the new layout features a section entitled, "stats." ...well i think its called that. seems legit. anyways...
"Stats" is all about the history of your blog and views and followers and posts and all the usual stuff. but now, i can see how many people have viewed my blog in the last days, weeks, months, and years its been alive.  guys.. guess how many total views my blog has gotten????

1,591! needless to say my mind was and still is pretty much blown. and i also feel special. :)
now i am kind of in love with that number. so i did some research....

1,591 is the U.s. code prohibbiting Sex trafficing of children. (score!)
1-591 is part of the area code for Bolivia
1591 is the number of weeks old you are if you are approximately 30.5 years old.
1591 is the number of times the word "the" was said in the movie Benjamin Button.

also, there is a section of stats that has a world map and it shows the places that my blog has been read. Welllllllll guess what?!! i have fans in Alaska! :) so.. Alaskans, by all means, message or comment. send me some snow or some sled dogs or something. that'd be awesome.

Wishes. Superstitions. Wizardry. Self Inflicted Trauma.

Sometimes, life gets significantly boring and we have to use things like superstitions to entertain ourselves. Im going to let you guys in on the creamy caramel center to my life as a human suffering from superstition.

we all know the phrase "step on the crack and your break your daddy's back" can i just say that people really should keep torturous sayings from the lives of the young population. lets just say this hit home with me in like 1st grade. i really didnt want my fathers back to break just because i stepped on a little tiny crack. he was our provider and i would never be able to live with myself.

thats where it alllll started.

then i discovered wishes at certain times. my time has been and always will be 3:33. but heres the thing. you cant just have one tiny little requirement. or ficticious wish genie creature will think that you really dont want your wish. so you must prove yourself to him. my logic has been that if you follow enough made up rules, eventually you'll get what you want out of life.

wish - rule # 1 so anyways, i decided that if 3:33 was in fact the chosen time for magic, 3:34 should not be invited. therefore, my first wish-rule is that you can NOT see the time change. Of course this doesnt sound hard, right? you might be thinking, "Jenna. JUST DONT LOOK." but no. for me, its like a car accident or a rumors of a really large spider occupying your wall...you wanna look, but you dont wanna look! and no matter how much i fight it, sometimes my greasy little eyes wander just in time to see 3:34 come to pass. and all wishes are off.

wish rule # 2  then i thought to myself one day that all clocks arent always in perfect synchronization. there could be one clock that says 3:32 and the one on your phone could say 3:35 and the one in the kitchen could say 3:33. so if you miss the desired time, can you go visit another clock?? the answer is yes. because if wish genie does not allow people some slack, hes like an evil genie. and thats just too close to the devil. so yes, but only once. if you miss it again all wishes are once again OFF.

wish rule # 3 the final wish-rule (yes THREE wish-rules for 3:33 seemed appropriate) is that you may not, under ANY circumstances, WHATSOEVER tell another soul what your wish was before it has come true. if i was wish-genie, that would piss me right off. you can't write it, or whisper it, or make it an answer to a impromptu game of charades. if you do, all wishes are MURDERED.

these are just the wish rules for time-wishes.... birthday, wishbones and dandelion wishes? Completely different stories. if you want to know my rules so that perhaps your wishes will finally come true. just ask. :)

arent you glad you visited my blog today? :)

An Important Truth About Life.

my mom is a great mom.

she has a mom butt and a mom haircut and mom jeans.

she has the voice that wakes you up from 60 ft away after you've slept through your blaring alarm clock.

but ive found a flaw in her motherhood. yes underneath that sweet smile and gap outlet clothing lies something twisted.

 and i wouldnt be publicly exposing her if she didnt laugh at me when i told her the news.

when i was a child my mother, like most loving maternal figures throughout history, would cut up my food so as to enhance my eating capabilities. I was totally fine with it and to this day, her squared toast is the most hauntingly beautiful thing ive ever seen. BUT this overprotective habitual routine did not come cheap.

Out of quote "laziness" on her part, she did not like to peel oranges. therefore whenever we had oranges they would be...wedged. (apparently lunch ladies are lazy too ) As a kid i was chubby and plump but i enjoyed my food rather neat. the juice from the wedges would get all over my hands and eventually i grew to despise oranges and everything they stood for.

flashforward to December 28, 2011. A kind mormon soul has just dropped off a bag of petite citrus looking things, as we mormons often do. i sit on the couch with my favorite nephew in my lap and watch in wonder and awe as my dad sticks his thumb in and peels one of the small orangey balls. then, he ate them one by one in little bite sized sacks of fruit. no mess. no grief. i assumed this was some kind of freak mutant breed of citrus...by the end of the day, my nephew and i ate 7 mutant orangey things.

a few days later, i go out to our second fridge, as we mormons often have, and what do i find but a box of huge oranges. i knew what oranges looked like so there was no mistaking that these were not in fact the mutant citrus i had eaten earlier that week. but i had a pressing feeling that i should peel this monstrosity and see what came to be.

guys, oranges come in small little bite sized sacks of fruit, too! no mess. no sticky juice. no tears.
i felt this overwhelming medley of emotions: betrayal, absolute stupidity and ridiculous excitement. oranges are actually really good! and ive missed out on at least 10 years of loving them....

the confrontation included the following quotes:
( real quotes from the jenna to mom conversation about oranges)
" this is your fault.." --me
" umm what? you didnt know that?!!! hahhaha!" --mom
"kay but seriously... really??"--mom
"this isnt funny, mom. you dont understand. they are REALLY GOOD."---me
"wait... :O do limes and lemons and grapefruit do that too?!?!?!?!" --me
" ....... yes, jenna." --mom
" i cant believe you."--me

anything other life changing things i should know about?? :(

drop it to the floor.

helllllllllloooo everyone. hope your christmas break was off the chain. cause mine was. heres the randomness that is floating around my head today. i think blogs were created for bored people to talk to themselves and avoid the inevitable lameness of their day. so. here goes.

itunes would be 574839578978 x's better if the ten dollar giftcards didnt only come in packages of three.
c'mon itunes. who does that?
i have a eating disorder. its called, "I'll eat it anyway" disease. it means even if something is gross, ill most likely keep eating it. and that it why ive had 4 pieces of stale fudge today. someone, help me.
my posture is comprable to a hunchback that lives in a cave 4 feet shorter than him.
i miss my friends.
my room. is really. REALLY. messy.... :( and ill probably end up cleaning it.... tomorrow. mayyyybe.\
wanna hear a blonde joke? k cool. how do you make a brunette cry? turn her blonde.
i have to say goodbye to jake today. wouldnt it be nice if you could literally RUN from your problems? like if i ran just fast or hard enough, my issues would be left in the dust. if i had one wish... well i'd probably wish for something pertaining to peanut butter or money but if i had TWO wishes, one of them would be that my problems could be tangible. so i could run from them, punch them, burry them, etc.  how could would it be to punch a zit or a bad grade in the face and have it go away?!

k i gotta go. my mom wants to make me clean things. :(

.... hehe i just realized my mom is tangible!!!!.... ;) hahaha

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.