Almost famous.

Celebrities, playlists, lists in general. All things I love. Sadly sometimes celebrities have really awful celebrity playlists. And sometimes they even include themselves on their playlist. Bad form, Jack.

Based purely upon my playlist I'm pretty sure I would make an incredible celebrity.

So here is my "If I were a celebrity" playlist. Enjoy. Or don't.

1) Stick with Me Baby ... Alison Krauss and Robert Plant
2) Headdress ... Amazing Baby
3) Neighborhood #2 (Laika) ... Arcade Fire
4) Laundry Room ... The Avett Brothers

5) Take your Medicine ... Cloud Cult
6) Jesus ... Brand New
7) Lost Cause ... Beck
8) When I'm with You ... Best Coast
9) Howl ... Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
10) Bruises ... Chairlift
11) Concert Pitch ... Empire of the Sun
12) Lolita ... Lana Del Rey
13) Soundtrack 2 My Life ... Kid Cudi
14) Knocked Up ... Kings of Leon
15) I Remember ... Yeasayer
16) I and I ... Bayside
17) Anyone's Ghost ... The National
18) Just Once in My Life ... The Righteous Brothers
19) No One's Gonna Love You ... Band of Horses
20) Cemetery ... Say Anything
21) Phantom Limb ... The Shins
22) Common Reactor ... Silversun Pickups
23) Run ... Snow Patrol
24) Heartlines ... Florence + The Machine
25) This is Why We Fight ... The Decemberists

Playing with Fire.

Hello world, it's been awhile.  Everything is pretty status quo, so not much was missed.

Jokes. A few things happened. Like I adopted two guinea pigs and I had the best party ever so far.

Anyway, I think it's time to discuss the hazards of fire and judging others.

Others being me.

Others sometimes don't like to do the dishes. Or get out of bed before nine. And they may not be entirely logically sound.

And then there are other others (not me) that like to clean everything all the time. And like to do before nine more than the original others (me again) do in their entire day. It is an other other that caused me to hide my dirty dishes in my relatively unused oven before they visited my apartment at 8:30 am. Which is before nine.

Now let us journey into the future. A frozen pizza is purchased. Red Baron, as it were. The king of frozen pizza.

Some days later AJ announces he is coming home for lunch and pizza sounds good.

So, being the darling and sweet wife that I am, I preheat the oven. And then putter around our apartment doing things that I do. Time and logic have recently abandoned me due to a series of events that may be discussed in the future. So at an unknown time later I smell smoke.

I mosey into the kitchen to discover that thick black smoke is pouring out of my oven. Confused, I open the oven door and am unreasonably surprised to find my dishes. On fire. Not little baby flames, but actual flames.

I contemplate calling 911, but I envision the embarrassment of having to explain my conniving, so much more embarrassing than burning down our entire apartment complex (especially considering that one of our neighbors actually lives in her apartment because she is waiting for her house to be rebuilt because it burned down in a wildfire). So much less embarrassing. Obviously.

So I called AJ instead.

And he laughed at me. Actually laughed.

Luckily for my little panic attack prone heart he had just pulled into our apartment complex parking lot. So he put out the fire. And everything was okay again. Except for the handles on some of my knives. Sadly, they were beyond repair.

The point of all this is to say that one, I am incredibly lazy and two, judging is bad. Stop it. Also, welcome back.


*note* Yes, I noticed the multiple changes from present to past tense and so forth. Yes, I realize how annoying that is. Please see point #1.

Nacho cheese. Or not your cheese.

So remember when my nacho cheese got stolen? Maybe not because I'm pretty sure that I never actually mentioned it here. In writing. Anyway.

A couple of months ago I begged mom to buy me one of those huge cans of nacho cheese at Costco. You know the ones.

So she finally bought me one.

Anyway, AJ and I ate the cheese once on chips and then went home for the weekend. And then my roommates ate my cheese, all of it, whilst I was away. Apparently they thought it was left over from a party they had had the previous weekend.

Not left over.

So I get back, hungry for cheese and it is nowhere to be found. I search everywhere, frantically.

Eventually it comes out that my cheese was consumed by accident. New can of cheese was promised.

Promised can was never given to me.

Anyway. Tanner bought me a can of cheese for Christmas. Bahaha.

You're looking skinny like a model.

Recently someone asked my mother if I have an eating disorder.

Frankly, I'm flattered.

Although, if I were to indulge in a disorder I would most definitely be anorexic. Bulimia ruins the enamel on your teeth. And throwing up too much can rupture your throat.

On the other hand, anorexia strips all the fat from your cells and causes you to grow a slight fur to keep your body warm.

And as my darling sister once told me "I'd rather be chubby than cold."

Chubby, warm, and incredibly happy.

Double takes.

Sarah became a teenager. Pretty much over night. One afternoon I come home and find her taking a nap. In her room. With the lights off and the blinds drawn. During the day.

Unthinkable. Absurd.

But that isn't even the half of it.

She hangs out in the bathroom and brushes her hair.

She tried to shave her legs. And cut herself. Which is sort of a rite of passage, I think. Taking a hunk out of one's leg.

She pouts and whines "that's not fair."

She sleeps in. (This is somewhat relative, when I say "sleeps in" I mean "gets up at seven thirty instead of six.)

It's hilarious.

Also, she hid her dirty socks under the sheets on my bed. I still don't really know how to take that.

I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Let it be known that I have no qualms about sharing gum. And when I say "sharing gum" I don't mean opening a pack and giving everyone a piece (although, I have no qualms about doing this either). I mean sharing the same piece. Already chewed on.

I'm also okay with chewing a piece gum that is approximately four years old.

Nor does it bother me that I found said gum on the floor a car. Covered in dirt, dust bunnies, and a piece of hair.

I mean, it was still wrapped.

However, this kid I know, also the driver of the car and possible owner of the old-ish gum, does have a problem with chewing ancient gum.

A problem and an incredibly sensitive gag reflex.

So I'm trying not eat weird stuff while he's driving. You know, so we don't die when he up-chucks all over the steering wheel.

For those of you who are wondering how I can manage to share gum and chew weirdly hard and tasteless gum that I found, but cannot go for more than twenty minutes without washing my hands: I never said I was consistent.

I'm aware that this is possibly gross. I also have no qualms about that.

I don't like to eat dirt anymore.

Me: My name is Kimberlyn and I like to eat dirt.

Kimberlyn: My name is Emily and I like to eat dirt.

Sarah: My name is Sarah and I like to eat pumpkin pie.

Duly noted.

When Kimberlyn was a wee lass, say two or three (because now she is at the ripe old age of four), she would say "No, my name is Kimberlyn! And I don't like to eat dirt." Now she actually gets that it is a joke. Sarah, on the other hand, still takes what she likes to eat very seriously. Joking about it would be inappropriate.

Also Kimberlyn can say her "Ks" and "Cs" now. No more "titty tats." Sigh.

I can probably die now.

So my chief dream has been fulfilled. I went to Bear World.

It was the best thing. Seriously. I love bears. I think AJ was a little frightened with how much I love bears. Which is understandable. Or at least it would be if you had been there with me.

Imagine me jumping up and down in my seat, pointing, and screaming "Bear! It's a bear! I love him!" (Um, duh, not surprising, this is Bear World) every time we saw a bear.

Which was a lot. Again, not surprising considering the place is called "Bear World."

Anyway. Bears are hilarious. Especially bears that sit like people.




Also, bear jokes never get old. For example: I can bear-ly see that bear. That bear cub is bear-y cute. And so on.

(Baby Seal becomes Baby Bear, the hilarity never ends.)

On that note it was bear-y hot. Sweltering really. No air conditioning and the windows were supposed to stay up. "Supposed to" being the key phrase. Every time the park rangers were out of sight AJ would frantically say "Crack your window, crack your window!" Still hot. The bears were totally worth it though.

Oh, and I fawned over a fawn. And AJ is afraid of chickens...bahaha.

It was so great. I almost couldn't bear to leave.

I think you're pretty.

I made some postcards this week.

I sat on the floor and made these while Tori sat at our desk and worked on her math. For seven hours. And we had the best time. So much laughter. Me at her doing her math. Her at my crazy sick behavior. And how seriously I take postcards.

When I grow up to be a man.

I've held a lot of old stuff this week.

1. A page from a Gutenberg bible.

2. A handwritten bible. Older than the Gutenberg.

3. Some rocks supposedly around 3.9 billion years old.

Whoa.

We were sparkling.

The park, the park. There is, perhaps, nothing I like more than a park. Any park. Seriously.

I love the swings.

I love the grass.

I love the people I meet at the park.

I love the purple dinosaurs that reside in the best parks.

I love that I recently discovered a carousel at the park down the street from my apartment. A carousel.

Anyway. Tori and I frequent said park and sometimes we like to take pictures. (Also I got my hair cut but you can't actually tell from these pictures.)

I also enjoy the movie Barefoot in the Park. Robert Redford is such a babe.

Sometimes I can't believe it, I'm moving past the feeling.

Arcade Fire has a new album coming out on the third of August. The Suburbs.

I have been waiting years for this. I thought my heart was going to stop.

My life has reached near perfection. All that is left is Bear World.

2010 really is the year of the miracle.

Ima tell you one time.

I think it is time to discuss my love for Justin Bieber. I love Justin Bieber.

I love his silky little mop of hair.

I love that I thought that he was thirteen for a while. (Turns out no, not thirteen. Sixteen, as of March 1st.)

I love his ridiculous pop songs. Every one. Seriously. I know them all. Word for word.

I love his baby face.

I love that all the girls in his music videos are taller than him. He's just a little guy.

I love that I learned what the word "shawty" means from him.

I love him. I am unashamed.

Which is why I was so excited when AJ showed me this drawing of himself:

Alex James DeCato

Justin Bieber

Insane, right?

I mean, I almost don't even know who's who.

Come on Barbie, let's go party.

Day at the lake: A photo Essay.

We are models.

We are mermaids. Merman!

We play chicken.

We play pigs stuck in the mud.

We throw sticks.

And rocks.

I pull off grandma glasses.

I painted my toenails pink.

We play frisbee.

Best of all, Mike and Nial sing Barbie World on the ride home.

Lift those heavy eyelids.

NyQuil is a miracle drug. Seriously. Last night I fell asleep at ten and woke up at eight. And, get this, I didn't wake up at all during those ten blissful hours. That has never happened to me before.

This is why I've decided to give NyQuil all of my love.

Every dog has his day.

We found a dog. She spent the night.

She wasn't allowed inside so we nearly froze to death cuddling with her outside. Which is bound to be really good for my cold.

Poor little girl, a collar but no tags. And Cami fed her nine hot dogs.

Fingers pressed against your lips.

Everyone is shushing me today.

Seriously. Like three different people, three different occasions.

The sheets still smell like your skin.

Someone told me that I smell like rich people today.

I'm still not really sure what that is supposed to mean to me.

Expect the unexpected.

A couple unexpected things happened this week.

1) I found this girl duct taped to a tree. Apparently it was her birthday. And her birthday wish was to be duct taped to something. So, um, take that as you will.

2) I discovered one of Devin's mission companions in my family home evening group.

Ex-companion: I went on a mission in Mexico.
Me: Hey, my brother is on a mission in Mexico.
Ex-c: Oh yeah? What mission?
Me: Cuernavaca.
Ex-c: That's where I served! What's his name?
Me: Devin Roberts.
Ex-c: Seriously!? He was my companion!
...And it builds. Awesome.

3) My friend, Kim, got hit by a car. Way unexpected. I mean, she's okay and all, but still. She was riding her bike home and this crazy mowed her down. Destroyed her phone and her bike. And then left her lying in the street. This one's for you Melissa...

She was hit by an old lady with a handicap tag!

Riddle me this, Batman:

Why am I so meticulously neat whist at school and so horrendously messy whist at home?

Meticulous and horrendous being relative to me, of course.