Hair Gods Have Mercy...

You know how I was at the gym yesterday for two hours?

Well, two hours gives you a lot of people-watching time. 

Let me tell you about the fellow I was watching while puffing away on the elliptical machine...

The top of his hair looked like this:

The bottom of his hair looked like this:

He was wearing one of these:

But he was holding it in his teeth...

So the back looked like this:

And the front looked like this:

I KNOOOOW!!!

Now picture that running on treadmill.

Picture that mullet/mohawk bouncing with every step.

Can you imagine anything more horrifying than that?

I didn't think so.

So I guess his hair was business in the front, party in the back....except...I suppose his hair was a party on top as well.... and naked on the sides....a naked business party? And how would you describe his shirt?

A reverse mullet-inspired shirt?

Party in the front and business in the back?

His hair and his shirt were having identity crises!!!

What am I supposed to think of a person like that?

Does he treat business like a party?

Or is partying his business?

Do you see how this is CONFUSING???!!!

(Not to mention OOOOO-glay.)

I Feel Like a Rockstar...

Not only did I work out today for TWO HOURS....

(I KNOOOOOOW!)

But the author of one of my favoritest blogs to read

COMMENTED on mine!

(I KNOOOOOW!!!)

Thank you, Nat of Nat the Fat Rat!

You totally made my day.

And the rest of you reading this....

I highly recommend heading on over to her blog,

It's a thing of joy, laughter, and beauty!

:)

Bottle It Up...

Remember how in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (the BOOK, not the movie), Hermione has this schweet (shh-VEET) blue fire that she keeps in a jar for cold days?

I was just thinking that there are so many things I'd like to bottle up for certain days...

FIRE for Logan winters

LAUGHTER for sad days

COMPLIMENTS for bad hair days

REASSURANCE for fat days

A gust of COOL AIR and a flurry of SNOW for blistering July days

WARM RAIN for days that were mean to be danced outside

A bit of SHADE for a day that's too sunny and hot

CONSOLATION for lonely days

ENCOURAGEMENT for gym days

MOONLIGHT for dark nights

MUSIC for any day

PRETTY SCENTS for those cow-smelling days 

(literal and figurative)

APPLAUSE for productive days

and

CONTENTMENT and HAPPINESS for every day

And then I thought to myself,

"You've got friends, family, an iPod, and the gospel...

My gosh, you're pretty much covered!"

(Who needs magic when you've got Heavenly Father on your side?)

I Spoke Too Soon...

Pretty much... 

the most horrible afternoon of my life.

Except where Kelli and Charlie prescribed a milkshake to cure my heartache.

Thanks, girls! I owe you.

I Just Told My Friend...

that my smiles are so much more REAL these days.

And it's true!

I'm 96.5% of the way back to WONDERFUL.

Do you have any idea how GOOD it feels to realize that?

I'm excited. 

:)

Romantic Developments...

(still not about me. Sorry.)

Remember how there is this girl I know

who liked a boy I probably know but didn't know which one,

and he liked some girl that I probably knew too?

Well...

I thought long and hard about it,

because the girl I know promised she would tell me if I was right or not

if I guessed which boy it was I probably knew.

I narrowed it down and then I gave her my guess,

broken down into bullet points 

with evidence to support my hypothesis.

Turns out I was wrong.

But now I know who the guy is, 

and I sorta know who the girl is,

and the guy is someone who liked me at the end of last semester,

but awkward events ensued,

and whatever might have happened between us died.

(That is a story which shall never be told on this blog.)

IMHO,

this girl I know 

who likes this boy I know

who likes this girl I sorta should know,

well... she's better off without him.

In the most loving and protective (of her) way possible.

Romance is Afoot...

...in the English department...

I knoooow!

(Don't get excited. It's not me. I wish.)

I found out that a girl I know likes this other boy I know, 

but I don't know which boy I know is the one that she likes.

I also know that this boy that I apparently know

does not like the girl (in that way) that I know, 

but likes a different girl that I probably know.

However, I don't know which girl this is that I probably know

that is liked by the boy that I know but don't know which one,

who is liked by the girl I know.

I know. 

Soooooo mysterious!

Dear Handsome Man at the Fireside...

Yes, you.

I unashamedly admit that I was staring at you longingly the whole time Elder Robert D. Hales was recounting the Joseph Smith story. I also admit that you may have caught me staring. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. It could be because you have lovely dark hair and dark eyes. It could be your chiseled bone structure. Very likely your wonderful smile, aimed at ______ (not me), was the factor that kept me from paying attention.

However, those reasons--alluring as they are--they pale in comparison to the enrapturing power of the amazing forest-green ARGYLE SWEATER VEST you were wearing. I know we're not supposed to look on the outward appearance, but on the heart. But you! I know that sweater only reflects the heart within. 

Do you know what your sweater revealed to me about you?

I just know that you love hot chocolate and cheese (not together) as much as I do. You have strong forearms connected to beautiful hands with magical fingers that could heal any pain of mine by tickling my back. You know the joy of car dancing and you secretly love Disney music. That amazing forest-green ARGYLE SWEATER VEST let me know you want to be like Atticus Finch when you grow up. You know the secret to giving the perfect hug and you only want to give that perfect hug to me. (Kind of like the hidden kiss in Peter Pan.)

Your sweater let me know that 

I'm supposed to marry you one day.

Just please... 

Wear it when you find me. 

I look forward to your immediate and subsequent proposal.

:)

I Laughed Out Loud...

(while reading my scriptures)

I know.

You're probably thinking, "Oh, she is so irreverent."

(I know I am.)

You'll think I'm even more irreverent when I say that sometimes the Book of Mormon is hilarious. Seriously. For a minute in the story, Ammon is one of those guys who struts around the gym with his arms held out stiffly so you can't help but notice the muscles that he's so proud of. 

Alma 18, and it's after Ammon totally pwned all the Lamanite punks and still found time in his ARM-CHOPPING RAMPAGE to cuddle the lambs and feed the horses.  I know, right?! King Lamoni is all, "Uh-oh, I need to talk to him, but I'm scared!" But Ammon comes in and says, "King Lamoni, my man, how can I help you out?" Lamoni can't seem to find the words, and it's right there in verse 16 that I just LOL'd.

Because Ammon goes all humble and says, "Dude, Lamoni, don't be afraid of me. Even though I single-handedly defended your servants.... AND your flocks... AND I killed seven of them (SEVEN) with my sling (MY HOMEMADE SLING).... AND I cut off all the arms of others... singlehandedly... which means I did it alone... in defense of your servants... AND your flocks... by myself. Bro, that was nothing."

Here, I imagined him surreptitiously flexing and kissing his own bicep. Breathing on his nails and buffing them on his Nephite tunic.

I know.

I know I'm slightly paraphrasing, but can't you see how that's funny?!

Hahahahaha!

PS. Ammon, if you're reading this from wherever you are (up there somewhere), I'm sorry. You know I'm joking, right? But really? Cutting off arms? That's gross.

I Got Some Good Advice Today...

Courtesy of Sandra Phillips (the speaker at Religion in Life, our weekly devotional in Institute):

One:

A woman needs only two things in life--

a comfortable pair of shoes and a comfortable bed,

because if she's not in one, she's in the other.

Two:

Don't love what can't love you back.

(She was talking about things, but, in some cases, this applies to people as well.)

Also... I changed my major today!!!! From English Education to Literary Studies! I graduate this fall--THIS FALL! Woooohooooo!!! 

Any advice as to what I should do post-graduation is welcome. Because I have no idea. I was thinking I should save some money for the first time in my life. Haha.

So Gross...

I have a swollen gland on my neck. I don't know where it came from. 

It's huge!!

What am I supposed to do about it?

Also...

There is a really unfortunate commercial on TV.
It's for the Universal Technical Institute. 

Also known as UTI.

Don't they know that stands for Urinary Tract Infection?

Sorry...

I'm grumpy right now.

I tried striking up a conversation today,

just trying to be nice,

and I got IGNORED.

Thanks a lot, mister.

Your bad mood put me in one.

Hope you enjoyed your walk home alone.

(Phhhhhlllebt.)

:(

Couch Scandal....

Sunday night, while watching the Olympics, I found myself having trouble breathing. I felt stifled and air just didn't seem to be reaching my lungs, due to heavy pressure on my ribcage.

Why, you ask?

A little too much sugar lovin'.

(Don't be getting any dirty ideas.)

Abbs, Cort, and I had baked and decorated a bazillion sugar cookies, and we ate about 3/4 of a bazillion. In addition to the two helpings of delicious lasagna that we made for dinner. So you can see why my bra suddenly transformed into a straitjacket.

(Sorry, male readers--if there are any. Maybe you want to skip the rest of this story. Or not. Be my guest.) 

Obviously, the oppression was not to be tolerated, so in the midst of the pairs figure skating short program, I gasped out,

"Sorry, girls, it's coming off!"

(Abbie cheered me on.)

I unhooked the offending article of clothing and discreetly tucked it beneath a couch pillow. I begged them not to let me forget to take it back to my room, but then Abbs and I envisioned Ash's fiance accidentally finding it. Which resulted in shrieking, hysterical laughter, and a great desire to leave it hidden between the couch cushions. Abbie figured it would be good for him to get used to it, because we highly doubted that they would be able to make it through their wedding night, they are so innocent and pure.

(She and I have the dirty minds in this apartment.)

Which led to me commenting that Abbie wouldn't have a problem getting through hers.

Which led to a conversation on a choreographed wedding night.

Which led to a Shakira music video.

Which somehow led to the SNL Beyonce and Justin Timberlake "Single Ladies" skit.

So I leave you with these words:

"Pure"

(pronounced p-YORE)

and

"dance biscuits"

Yep.

PS. I did not leave my bra in the couch. As much as I wanted to.

I Realize It's Love Day...

....and that there's only ten minutes left of it...

Valentine's Day is a neutral day for me.

Don't love it, don't hate it.

I am completely apathetic about it.

But if you love it, go right ahead.

Hug that special someone.

Kiss him/her if you feel so inclined.

Go walking hand-in-hand as snowflakes gently fall around you

and the moon envelops you in a dreamy glowing light.

I'll stay inside.

Alone.

(No. I'm not bitter.)

Really.

:)

Happy LOVE DAY!

LOVE it up!

(Keep it clean!)

She's the Man....

One of my favorite, favorite movies.

There's a line that Viola's friend Paul says.

I woke up this morning and repeated it,

"Inside every girl, there's a boy."

Then I added enthusiastically,

"And today I'm going to dress like one!"

And I did.

(Mostly because I ran out of clean clothes.)

Really, Shakespeare, Really?

Hamlet?

Seriously? What kind of name is Hamlet?

When I hear Hamlet, I think 

"Chipette" 

or 

"omelet" 

or 

"Piglet."

("Ham"let. Get it?!)

Like, if someone were to form a band, and Shakespeare was their inspiration, they could call themselves, I don't know, "Horatio and the Hamlettes." Horatio would wear a medieval costume and play the lute and would be backed by Miss-Piggy-like puppets in wench dresses.

Plus, Piglet was a little pig, so perhaps Hamlet was a little ham. 

(Actually, Hamlet is the chilled, shrinkwrapped Piglet after he got caught by hunters, and now you can find him in the frozen food aisle of your local grocery store. Sorry, Piglet-lovers.)

Does this mean that the King of Denmark was the Big Ham?

Like the Big Cheese?

(Would the Big Cheese's son be Cheeselet?)

Obviously, Shakespeare didn't think through this name thing. 

Obviously.

Dance-Tastic...

I could happily dance with Clark for the rest of my life. 

(Yes, Cameron. I am talking about your roommate.)

Seriously. I am not kidding. 

For the rest of my life.
(He is THAT good.)

I'm not great, but it's so nice not to have to teach my partner the basics every time I get asked. 

Which, admittedly, is not that often.

I suspect that guys may think I don't know how to dance because I'm Asian.

Understandable. 

How often do you look at a Chinese gal (who wears skinny jeans and bright colors) and think,

"Hey, she looks like she's really into country dancing!"

I sure wouldn't.

However, last night taught me that I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much better than I used to be. A year ago, I remember that I was terrible and could hardly follow Clark at all. Last night, I was able to do almost everything he threw at me! And Jason is an awesome partner and is so good at teaching lifts. I love lifts.

I don't mean to toot my own horn...

Scratch that.

I do.

I sure do mean to toot my own horn.

I. Am. Awesome.

(an awesome country dancer, I mean)

Gym-Tastic...

I ate lots of treats today. And I ate lots of fatty food. See last post.

So I went to the gym for an hour and a half this evening.

I know, right?! I rock.

Thought for the night:

The Tarzan soundtrack is quite motivating. Don't believe me? Think of it this way. So you're sweating on the elliptical. You're grunting on the bicep curls. Phil Collins starts belting Son of Man and suddenly you pant out an epiphany!!

"Hold on now. I can DO this. When this song is playing in the movie, Tarzan surfs on tree trunks and swings from vine to vine with his toes! With. His. TOES. What's another five minutes? What's another ten crunches?"

Observation of the night:

Boys' shirts with the sleeves cut off so you can see their skin from their armpits to their waists are NOT attractive. 

I don't want to see male side cleavage. 

Much less your nipples. 

Thanks. 

When Did I Get So Popular?

95% of my mail is the utility bills, and the other 5% is wedding invitations. After three years of begging, I did finally get my first package in the mail from my parents last year on Valentine's Day. Way to go, Parents.

Pretty sure I had a total of maybe five friends in high school.

No one's ever come to visit me, and yet....

Thursday, my best friend Josef came to visit me and we went to Kelli's senior recital (which, by the way, was amazing. I am so proud of her!). He took me to Olive Garden and I took him to the movies. We went to see When in Rome. I don't know if the movie was actually that good, but we laughed like crazy. Probably because Joe is my favorite person ever with the most fantastic laugh in the world. You can't help but have fun with him.

Friday, my buddy Jordan came to visit me and an old mission companion. He took me to Firehouse.

Today, my little brother James came to visit me. He took me to Chili's and then to Casper's for ice-cream.

You know how some people have beer bellies?

I have a 

Diet Coke-mushroom ravioli-white chocolate raspberry cheesecake-focaccia bread-
cordon bleu pasta-fh'zookie-honey chipotle chicken-brownie delight belly.

(How was I to know that I would be eating out three times in the space of five days?)

I need to go to the gym. ASAP.

For hours.

Best weekend ever!

Hibernation...

How brilliant is hibernation? 

How absolutely unfair is it that it skipped over the human species?

Shouldn't I be allowed to pretend that the dreary, depressing winter months don't exist?

Shouldn't I be able to eat everything I want until I essplode,

and then 

sleep. it. off.  

???

What could be more wonderful than eating my weight in food

and NOT having to go to the gym to work it off?

In fact, nature would discourage it.

If life were as it should be, Mother Nature would say,

"No, Chessie. Don't go to the gym. Eat all the chocolate muffins and pasta you want. And when you feel like you can't eat anymore, just curl up in your bed and go to sleep. When you wake up, the sun will be shining, it will be warm, and you will be skinny."

I'm convinced that when God evicted Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, he said,

"See all those animals you named? THEY get to HIBERNATE. YOU get to SUFFER. 

Shouldn't've eaten that apple, huh? Bet you're sorry now."

Hello New Readers!

Where did you all come from?! I didn't think anybody read this at all. 

It's like you all esssploded out of nowhere!

Welcome to Chester the Best-er.
I'm so pleased to meet you!

I just hope you truly realize you are reading the blog of a totally awkward dork.

Are you okay with that?

I've got an assignment to do and the basketball game against Nevada tonight,

soooo...

I will leave you with a 

Have a Happy Weekend! 

and I will be back soon with 

the riveting soap opera that my life is NOT.

I hope you'll comment and let me get to know you as well!

The Older I Get...

The more I realize how young and inexperienced I am.

For example:

I saw some missionaries the other day. It used to be I was in awe of their great stature. I thought they were so grown-up and mature. Now I realize I am as old as they will be when they have been home for a year.

Do you have any idea how WRONG that feels?

You know what else I learned is wrong with being older? When you are older, when walking to the bus stop next to the credit union, it is okay for a young mailman to smile at you after dropping off the mail. It is okay for you to notice that the mailman is not only young, but cute, and red-headed! When you are older, it is okay to smile back when the cute, young, red-headed mailman smiles at you while he hops into his truck, and then nods to you as he drives past. 

Whaaaa--?!!! 
When did it happen that all of that was okay?

When did mailmen stop being strangers that your mother told you not to talk to?

When did mailmen stop being old and fat and hairy?

Okay. They still are, for the most part, but still.

I just don't think I'm old enough yet. Y'know?

Not Again...

Remember that scene in the beginning of The Princess Diaries? 

Mia dejectedly says to Lily, "Somebody sat on me again today..."

In the movie of my life, I think my line would be, 

"I got mistaken for a middle-schooler again today."

I'm so tired of explaining my status as EMPLOYEE to the guard dogs at the school.

On a sidenote: I saw that cute family on the bus this morning. I wish they knew how happy they make me. Also, there was a woman reading a thick volume called Vampirates. I reeeeeeeeeeeally do NOT want to know. Two weeks ago, she was reading Crash by the legendary Jerry Spinelli! VAMPIRATES? Hopefully, she'll have an amazing read next week. :)

Delightfully Purple...

is how I like to smell, folks. I feel Anne-ish every now and then, if you know what I mean.

Purple is my happy color, and my happy fragrance. 

(Also known as Enchanted Orchid by Bath and Body Works.)

And I have the works. I kid you not.

Apparently, it makes me smell "yummy." Dance class kid's words, not mine. 

You know how someone will walk past you,

and just a hint of their cologne or perfume will

just float past your nose?

And you catch yourself turning your head

to the side just so you can catch it again?

And you think to yourself, "Mmmm....yummy!"

Can you blame me? Have you smelled the air in Cache Valley?

Also. Don't tell me you haven't hoped a particularly delicious-smelling person

would sit right in front of or next to you in class,

just so you could be distracted from the lecture.

I wonder if I've ever been that delicious-smelling person to somebody else. That'd be cool. I have been told that my neck was like unto an aphrodisiac. (No. I do not have a vegetarian vampire boyfriend who cares about my feelings.) However, I question the validity of that statement, since he decided a week later that my roommate smelled more like Aphrodite than I did.

But THAT is a story for a much later time.

What signature color do YOU smell like?

PS. To The Last Post...

(Thanks for the reminder, Charlie!)

Ever since I saw Jean's Golden Girls dancing for the first time 

(I think I was a sophomore)

I knew that one day,

one day,

I would be one of them.

It's my dream to dance with them in the Spectrum.

And at least two of my roommates' dreams.

Look for us in about 40 years.

I will be the sassy Asian grandma with purple hair

dancing. it. up.

On the front row of course.

I'm only 5'2" after all.

:)