It's a hairy story...

This is it, folks. After months of careful deliberation, I made the decision. I decided that long hair was really just the think for me.

Until last week when I went to the salon with the girls in my family. As I watched Mom and Britt get their hair trimmed, I got that tickly kind of sensation that I needed a change. So today at the salon I boldly declared, "I think I might wanna donate it, maybe. But if not, it's no big deal. Really, whatever you think would be good."

Okay, I firmed up the statement a little to, "I wanna donate it," but choosing a style was hard. Mom and Angela (dearest cousin)decided that A-line would work for me. Okay, I said. Results....

BEFORE

Except brown.

*Sad realization!* I have no pictures of my gorgeous long hair!! I always have it braided or in a bun, so no one can see that it was really to my belly button! This is really kind of sad. Remedy: I must grow it out again. It only took two and a half years...

AFTER

Sorry for the lousy computer picture. As always, my camera battery is dead.

Anyway, I chopped it. A little over a foot of hair, gone. There are pros and cons, of course.
Pro: I like how swishy it is.
Con: I feel like I look five years younger, but also mom-ish.
Pro: It's swishy.
Con: I felt more beautiful/hot/sexy/cute whatever with long hair.
Pro: Potentially easy to care for.
Con: But easier than my everyday long hair dance bun?
Pro: No more split ends.
Con: I feel a little like Jo. I miss my hair.

On a kind of funny side note, Lu did the exact same thing. Poor chica, she's not happy, but I think it's adorable.

Anyway, that's the long and short of it.
Pardon the pun.

Gold Flecks

Step 1: Go to this link.
Step 2: Watch the Youtube video. (Spoiler Alert: It's a Mormon Message...)
Step 3: Read this blog. Even if you didn't follow step two.

Tonight at Family Home Evening (...get-together for friends, food, and churchy stuff) we were shown this video. In a nutshell: we are blessed with a million little flecks of gold (blessings) daily, but we don't always notice them because we're so busy working/looking for nuggets. By collecting the flecks, we can make our own nuggets.

I'm going to create today's nugget right now for you, my adorning readers.

• I got to dance with tons of cool people for four hours!
• Curry rice for dinner. Yum…
• Spinach salad with FETA! Double yum…
• Lovely back massage from lovely Russell.
• A fun FHE activity. Besides the video we made Thankful Turkeys, giving me ample opportunity to think of more things I’m thankful for.


And my little brother is a riot.
Step 4: Think of some of your flecks. And see if you can give some flecks to others.


On a completely different note, I found out today that I didn't make SPAC again...Not sure how I feel about this.

Forget Me Not

College is stressful. Life is stressful. Last night, during a Spanish-induced panic attack I felt rather hopeless. Spanish is kicking my butt. It's a pretty strange feeling for someone who used to have the will power to pull all-nighters for school. Okay, that still happens, but not as often. Even going to bed at one and waking up at six has drained me. And my shoulders and lower back ache.

When I first got up today I considered calling in sick, being sick, "accidentally" falling back asleep...anything to avoid Spanish. I didn't, though. I got up and saw a golden ticket on the kitchen table. That is, a chocolate bar that said golden ticket. It was from Relief Society's chocolate night, which I did not go to because I was at a tap concert.

Anyway, I'm waxing long. The point is what this ticket/chocolate bar said:
1. Forget not to be patient with yourself.
2. Forget not the difference between a good sacrifice and a foolish sacrifice.
3. Forget not to be happy now.
4. Forget not the "why" of the gospel.
5. Forget not that the Lord loves you.

That's President Uchtdorf, by the way. See? Read it.


I think each of these "petals" apply to me and my ridiculous relationship with Spanish, but it's time for me to Go and Do so I'll leave you to ponder how they can be applied to your life.

Love,
Erika

Oh, and the forget me not is the Alaska state and my high school class flower. How cool is that?

Italy

I need to go to Italy. Magic happens in Italy. The lost, confused,and alone flock to Italy and come back with renewed vigor and true love. Chick flicks are evidence of this.

Think about it:
Letters to Juliet, The Lizzie McGuire Movie, Roman Holiday (sob!), The Italian Job, Much Ado About Nothing, and Return to Me. And these are only the ones I've seen.

Speaking of Return to Me, it's quite possibly one of my favorite movies. Grace and Bob are at very different points in life. He's grieving a recently dead wife. She's getting used to life without heart disease (courtesy of a new heart.) Their paths cross in an Italian restaurant, and thus begins one of the purest, most romantic relationships I've ever seen on a screen. In middle school my journal heard all about how I wanted one of the "smiley kisses" Bob and Grace shared. Their kisses were not lust-driven, passion-filled maulings. Their first kiss was short, slow, awkward, and sweet. As they stepped back they were both wearing dopey grins. Smiley kiss.

Predictably, a conflict had to be introduced to the story or it wouldn't have been a good story. Tears were involved. Bob went home and Grace went to....you guessed it: Italy. There she painted and sat on rooftops and road her bicycle. And of course Bob realized what an idiot he had been and went to Italy, effectively crushing all doubt of their love. They lived happily ever after.
I think everyone has days when they want to go to Italy. To clear their heads. To change it up. To fall in love. To get over love.

I want to go to Italy because I think it'd be fun to red a red bicycle on cobblestones.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween!

Halloween weekend. Some college girls are at the dances in tiny skirts and high heels. Some are cuddling up with boys in front of a scary movie. Some are sleeping. Some are doing homework (ick.)
I'm not.
I had planned on sleeping by midnight, but GI Jane and my roommate distracted me. That and my new nail polish. I bought some crackle nail polish tonight to help my Halloween costume out a little. Of course, I got the cheapo kind, so the results aren't great, but hey, it was fun for $5. ($3 for the crackle, $2 for the regular.)

Sorry for the lousy quality. I'm a wee bit too lazy to take a picture on my camera to post tonight.

These nails will go with me this weekend as I bake three pumpkin pies, possibly go to a corn maze, get visited by my hometeachers, study, write a paper, take a psych test and dress up as a spider web because I have no creativity and feel like decorating my dance clothes.

What are you guys doing for Halloween?

Restless

I'm restless.
You can take that in a couple of ways, I guess. There's the actual definition of restless: you know, restless. Unsettled. Ready to do....anything crazy, but without any idea of what.
Or you can read it as rest-less. Like I've had less rest than I should, which is very true. I had planned on sleeping until about 10:30am this morning--it IS Saturday after all. Instead, Emily (wonderful roommate) unintentionally woke up me at 9:30 while she was getting dressed to go to Stake Conference. I didn't know we had it today, which is why I was going to sleep through it. Well, I got up and went to SC. It was a good meeting, and ended with me feeling restless.

A couple of hours later, Russell and I rented a tandem bike. Aren't we cute?

Well, that's not quite us, but it's the same basic idea.
Getting started was a little shaky, but I'm amazed at how quickly we figured it out, and even more so at how we seemed to pedal and stop pedaling at the same times.
We costed along the bike path, enjoying the gorgeous 66 degree weather. Really, Utah, it's almost November! But I love this weather.

With all that goodness in one day, why the heck am I so restless?

Act-Cow-Mermaid Feet

Once upon a time, there lived several crazy college students. One (obviously exhausted)night they got into a massive leg massage chain. Oh blessed mermaid, how good that felt! Push came to shove and twenty minutes later, roommate Natalie (who for the sake of the story shall be called Natalie) started to draw on roommate Russell's feet (who for the sake of the story shall be called Boyfriend. Also, he's not actually our roommate.) Other character: Erika (otherwise known as Me.)
Well, Natalie was using her superior artistic powers to drawn this immodest and freakishly tinied rib caged creature on Boyfriend's foot. Me was laying with me's head on Boyfriend's belly, texting long and outrageous stories to Boyfriend's phone. The story goes as follows:
Once
upon
a
a
time
a
act-cow-mermaid
love
in a pond of
fell.
Pie
drowned.
Pie
and
ate
Russell's
tickly
face.
It
was
delicious.
Love,
Erika.
Maybe we should get married
Said the mermaid.
but apparently pie was a liar
So pie learned to text
And vowed to learn
English
and stopped speaking
because her man
sounded like a
creeper helium guy
with hairy...everything.

The only clarification Me can offer is that Me's brother took her phone and texted Pie so many times in place of She that whenever she wants to text she, pie shows up instead.

And that is why college is dangerious, folks. Girls who used to be somewhat normal and intelligent (for example, a girl who for the sake of the story we'll call Erika) go crazy.