Thursday, November 6, 2008

Charismatic and Rhymes with Llama

There's nothing like pretending Christian Bale and Sexy Two-Faced Man are your boyfriends for 2 1/2 hours to take your mind off things. Not to be melodramatic, but I would much rather be living in Gotham City being Maggie Gyllenhaal right now. Even though she gets blown up and everything. And even though she has that weird, really deep line going from the bottom of her nose down to her upper lip.
Strolling into the new Cinemark movie theater in Orem, I was surprised to find myself really missing good old sticky-seats Wynnsong down in the riverbottoms. Even walking into the recently remodeled Wynnsong the other day, I still missed old sticky-seats. Can I miss a building when I'm inside of it?
There's been no blogging in the last little while because I haven't had much to say. Or maybe because an unmentioned person who lives in my house has been unstoppably like--well he like looked at me and then like sat down two feet from me and winked his left eye and then I was like Oh, my gosh and then I think I texted him after that let me read you what he said back after my third text--as a result of said housemate spouting all this, millions and millions of times, I haven't had the thought process left to sit down and write something.
Very important and meaningful things that have happened since my terribly unmeaningful and unimportant post about Body Worlds:
  • Obama-mama-rama became president elect. And, in spite of my very conservative thought process, and the sugary Republican ancestry that has been ground over my food since I was a babe, I found myself excited by his acceptance speech. -of course, he's going to take all our money and get his buddies to bomb the country and select an advisory board full of Muslims and former homeless people and trendy people (they love him), but he's a friggin' great public speaker.
  • So much of my hair has fallen out that Mother Gould hath chopped it off. And no, all you Females with Hair of Rapunzel Proportions enthusiasts and members out there, I didn't cry. I didn't even care. I look hawt. Anyone want the ponytail to wear as a tie? It kind of looks like a tie. -this is, obviously, just important as the first black president. My hair, I mean. My beautiful hair. High in a tower I sit by the hour maintaining my hair.
  • Prop 8 passed, and I cried. Partially because I was happy and partially because I am now more worried about Tom in Oakland, CA than ever. So, everyone pray that the prophet sets aside tithing for all the missionaries to take jiu-jitsu classes and carry mace with them when tracting.
  • I learned how to make lasagna. Learn how to cook: done.
  • I fell in love with my married D&C professor.
  • Cleaning checks were passed, once again, without any actual cleaning.
Any ideas on how to shut the spouting housemate up? Or, on how to hide my shortened do under a bonnet in Christmas Carol? Wig cap? Swim cap? Hair net? Gel? Or, on how Bama-rama is going to run the country? Thoughts.

6 comments:

Fran said...

Hide your hair by using sponge curlers or something. I mean, make your hair really curly and that should be fine. Kind of like the fall you've used the last couple of years, but with your actual hair.

It's Friday and I long ago stopped making sense. oy.

Lanee said...

Oh. No. More boy stories huh? Lucky you. I miss you like Hilary misses that hot seat.

Sarah Culp said...

I want to see your hair . . . i know you're rockin it

Elder Roxas said...

To shut up the housemate, use a cork. As far as the wig dilemma, I vote for the swim cap. It's SO much more creative. As for Obama...I voted. No comment. :)

Anonymous said...

oh dear. I'm sure the trolling gangs of homosexuals are sure to be a legitimate threat to mormon missionaries everywhere. Stupid.

JULIE said...

To whoever supposes themselves to be anonymous:

I don't believe I mention homosexuals, or trolling gangs of them, anywhere in this post. If you've got a problem, take it up with me at julieannaface@gmail.com.

Thanks.