I have no words today. So here are some other people's pictures.

PS, Those first two pictures are from Today's "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear," via comedy central in Washington DC. I'm watching it live online while working today, so you should probably too. Peace out.

Halloween is a comin, Chirrens.

We've finally reached it.
That special time of year when small children are encouraged to take candy from strangers, and it is deemed entirely appropriate.

So. I sort of love Halloween.

Really, I just love getting dressed up for pretty much any occasion with any excuse I can.

Last, year, I was a pretty legit looking flapper, if I do say so myself.


In the past, for various dressing up occasions, I have also been Cookie Monster:
And back in High School, I was Batgirl for Senior Dress Up Week. woot wootie wewt wootation.

In other matters, Enjoy your Halloween! Be safe, remember who you are, eat too much candy, overload on sugar, drive your parents crazy loco in the coco. (That means you, kids.)

Word.

UPDATE:

I decided to play repeat with the Batgirl scenario. Yes, I know its a popular costume. Its also an easy costume. Which is why its popular.

I went to the D.I. and got a cheap plain yellow top, which i chopped up and made into a bat emblem, belt and headband in about half an hour.

Steven ( the fellow beside me) referred to his own costume as"An Outlaw."

Riiiight, Steven. An outlaw that wants to be Michael Jackson (note the single glove).

Things about Utah that make me giggle.

"I feel good 'cause I got milk on sale at the store"

becomes

"I fill good 'cause I got melk on sell at the store."

Overhearing this conversation at Macey's:

"Look, strawberries are on sale right now!"

"Oh yeah, I love these! Don't you just love stuff like strawberry jam?"

"Actually yes, you know, fruit preserves are on sale right now too, first aisle over there!"

"Oh, but I just love making jams, don't you? There's nothing that can replace that homemade taste!"

"Uh... but... you could just... buy it. Thats sort of a lot easier."

Also overhearing this on campus:

"I would have held his hand, but I'm looking for a serious relationship right now, not just a fling. I need to start thinking about getting married, you know."

Getting asked about "biscuits and gravy" almost every single time I talk about Georgia.

The fact that my freshman year roommate's ex-boyfriend's sister is married to David A. Bednar's son.

6 Degrees of separation, anyone? :D

The first thing that anyone I'm reconnecting with says to me is, "How's the dating world treating you? Are you seeing anyone?"

If the answer is yes: "So, gettin serious maybe? Is marriage in the future?? Have you met the family yet?"

If the answer is No: "Well... you can always go on a mission."

Getting frowned at for wearing a skirt whose hem lands slightly above my knees.

Two words: Bridal Expos.

Two more words: Cupcake Boutiques.

Need I say more?

Roses may be red, but violets are indeed violet.

Two thirds of the world's eggplant is grown in New Jersey.

Once again, you are all a liiittle bit wiser, thanks to yours truly.

PS, I'm at my temp job right now, and I've been here for.... an hour and a half. And we havent started working yet. I mean, I already clocked in and everything, but this is a wee bit redonk style.
I've read two chapters in "The Phantom of the Opera," and checked facebook and emails.
And now I'm writing a post.

I applied for a job yesterday and had an interview, the hours would be perfect with my schedule. Its a janitorial position. Cross your fingers. Should find out by Tuesday.

I think that if I wasn't Mormon, I would be probably be... Jewish Orthodox or something.
Why? Because in religion, you might as well Go Big or Go Home.

Paz Afuera.

A Conversation with the Father from this week.

[the beginning of this conversation was lost in my phone, so it may not be exactly verbatim. nonetheless, it is amusing. enjoy.]

"You missed it. There was almost a fist fight between two parties at the arbitration I am at right now."

"Oh my. What over?"

"Its a long story."

"Wait. Are you texting me from inside a courtroom? Are you allowed to do that?? Hahaha, you rebel."

"Not a courtroom. It's a conference room. And we're on a break."

"Ok ok. Having oodles and bunches of fun, are we?"

"Oh, yeah. I go home tonight, come back next Monday for the week and then come back the following Tuesday for the rest of that week. Good times."

"You're having more fun than me. I have had an exam in literally every single one of my five classes. And the week ain't over yet. Woohoo."

"There's an old saying: 'That which does not kill us only makes us stronger.

Unless we're talking about Chuck Norris, in which case the saying is: 'That which kills us.'"

"Oh Daddy. You always know just what to say."

"True. You know that Mr. T pities the fool who have to take five finals in one week. He pity them."

"Yeah, he probably does. I even pity the fool. Myself. I pity myself. I am the fool. Sad."

"But Mr. T pities the fool what pity herself. Mr. T says leave the pity to himm. Now enough of yo jibba jabba."

"You're such a charmer."

"Righteous."

Ohhhh My Father.

What a Gem of a Man.

Erin's Week. aka Thuper Duper

It is only Wednesday. And yet it has already been "One of Those Weeks."

I had two midterms in a row, one yesterday and one today. For my two most difficult classes, nonetheless.


I texted the Father after I finished yesterday.
"Well that was extremely unpleasant."
"How unpleasant?"
"It was like the colonoscopy of midterm exams."
"Yeah, well at least during a colonoscopy they have the decency to put you to sleep."
Touche.


I'm living off a giant bag of Brand X Honeycomb Cereal right now. Oh, and I have a loaf of bread, and about a third a carton of grapefruit juice. Noms.


I do a lot of homework. A lot. Of homework.


I wish I could just go to school dressed like a slob every day. AKA in my oversized gray hoodie and basketball shorts.


There are-literally-scars on my feet from where my flip flops go from wearing them PROBABLY a liiiittle too much.


I called my... second cousin once removed... I think?.... the other day. She's old. And cool. And she's sending me some nerdy little gifties that have information about our fambly soon.


On Saturday I woke up and found little pieces of kiwi and kiwi peel, seriously, all over my kitchen and living room.
How did I deal with the situation?
I ran away to the apartment down the hall for two hours.
Eventually I donned lysol antibacterial wipes as make-shift gloves and started picking it up.
My neighbor came into my open door and asked what I was doing.
"Cleaning up toxic waste." I answered.
He stopped me and did it himself, because he doesn't have freakish allergies to food items.
And he's an extremely nice fellow.
Then he did my dishes.
That was a good day.


I think it would be fun to duct tape someone to a wall.
Is that weird?


It is very fun to say "Huitzilopochtli."
It is not fun to spell
"Huitzilopochtli."
It also brings up unpleasant memories of a colonoscopy-reminiscent Culture exam.

Sob.

Get that crummin outta my face.

I came to a conclusion this afternoon.

There is absolutely nothing sexy about feet.

Just think about it.

We-literally-walk all over them. Sometimes other people do too.

They touch everything on the ground and, by association, everyone else's feet, and I don't even wanna know where THOSE have been.

You may say, "Oh, but Erin, we wear shoes, Duh!"

You silly naive fool.

Just think about THAT.

You stuff your feet into (hopefully) socks, then shoes, and wear them around all the livelong day, where they get smooshed and sweaty. Not to mention that charming lint-like cottony substance between your toes that my elder brother used to affectionately call "Crummin" as a smallish child.

And lets be honest. Sandals and flip flops hardly even count as shoes. They do virtually no good at all.

And please, don't even get me started on toenails.

So could someone please explain something to me.

Whose bright idea was Footsies, praytell?

Cue this conversation on a date.

"I have a great idea. Let's take both our sicknast sweaty hairy dirty etc feet, and rub them around each other, maybe even interlocking toes as our lovely toenails scratch up on each other's callouses.

Oh yeah. That sounds like GREAT foreplay."

I understand that there are people out there who have a weird, inexplicable affection for feet. Take my dear friend Andrew Paul, or AP, for example. He loves 'em. He even says its one of the first things he notices about a girl. And I mean, hey, I can respect that I guess.

Maybe its just my own neuroses and bizarre issues.

I HATE feet. I especially dislike my own feet. I don't like people even looking at them. I'm oddly self-conscious about them.

AP once told me I have great feet, actually. He even gave me a foot massage one day.

...Honestly, my heart rate went up and I practically hyperventilated out of sheer panic as it was going on. It was... well, terrifying to me for some reason.

Really, the only people that I have willingly allowed to touch my feet for an extended period of time would be the lovely Vietnamese ladies at the salon on the occasional pedicure splurge.

And even when I make that exception, I sit there, certain that they're talking to each other in their foreign tongue about how repulsive my toes are.

One thing's for sure--

I'm pretty positive they don't find them sexy.

PS: My dear friend AP (Andrew Paul) is an actor, you should check out the youtube channel he participates in, as it is quite hilarious sometimes. Also, he plays bass in a band, so you should probably check that out as well. Word, turd.