sometimes i'm social

Last night me and my bangs went to a surprise birthday party for a set of twins that have changed my life. One, the dearest, kindest, most hilarious, strongest, smartest, most beautiful, clever, caring, adventurous girl in my life whoa. that's a lot of adjectives. but they're true. i mean...she survived thursday night 80s dancing. give that girl a birthday cake. oh wait...and the other my destined and dashing partner in that most glorious of relationships known as marriage. The party was a hit, with beautiful people, smiles, chocolate cake, pictures, pink lemonade, and leftover Christmas decorations.

Erm. Excuse me. I mean "winter" decorations.

As my previous post can attest, I'm obviously feeling hyper aware of my hair. I tried my best to prep it beforehand so that it would have that "I don't care what my hair does but doesn't it look great?" look that all the Grey's Anatomy girls have going on. That, or at least keep it off my face without it being so slicked back that I would be mistaken as Draco Malfoy. In the end neither attempt would have worked due to the temperature in the apartment. Get 20+ college students in a little apartment, most wearing sweaters or jackets, all trying to impress their crush of the night while a disco ball flashes from the kitchen, and you have the perfect environment for deflated hair. That, and deodorant testing. good news. i think we all passed.

In short, I felt obligated to apologize for my deflated bangs every 10 minutes. I imagine it's what having an annoying-drunk friend come with you somewhere is like. Constantly having to say things like, "I'm so sorry. I don't know why they're doing that," or "You know, they usually behave better," or "Please don't look at them." But instead of trying to hide behind my phone or blend into the Christmas tree ..."winter" tree... as I expected to do, I surprised myself and reacted totally contrary to prior plans. no seriously. i already had nicholas hoult's twitter feed loaded on my phone...just in case, you know?

Anyway, I ended up being more social than is probably socially acceptable. First I was chatting about a broken pinky, then the prayer position, then how French and Spanish were kind of the same, then about how I'm not going to law school, then about "if my life was a movie," then about Brazilian men and accounting men, whether mountains make you feel claustrophobic or not, then about how to get phone numbers, then about waterboards, the trees in Minnesota, how people in Minnesota say "Minnesota",  whether tacos or burgers are better, if there are places to ski in Ukraine, and Elder Oaks. I mean, we are at BYU. I was bouncing around that room like no ones business and loving on the cookies made by the cutest elementary school teacher. These cookies...if you could take your favorite song, the most attractive man you can think of, a snuggie, a baby panda, and that short movie Paperman and put them in a cookie? It would taste like these cookies.yeah

what's the point of this post?

In conclusion, I guess I hope people remember me as the crazy girl who said "Minnesota" 17 times in a row rather than the one who had a mop on her forehead.

When I came home I celebrated my antics by putting stretchy pants on and getting my hair as far away from my face as possible.

it's called a topknot. 

and...is literally a knot.

#superfuntobrushout

peace and selfies
i promise it's just a phase i'm going through?
rrw