Saturday, 25 December 2010

happy december 25th erryone.

the only bad thing about wearing a christmas sweater is when your shoulder pad appears unexpectedly on the kitchen floor.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, 14 December 2010

18 months too long

The moment has finally arrived.
Tomorrow morning I will be whisked off to Ecuador to pick up sister!!! She has been gone for the last 18 months serving a mission, and those of you who know me remotely well know that I have been quite a poor sport about it. Honestly it has been an amazing experience for all parties, but what am I supposed to do when my bffff is taken from me?
I've been thinking about the last 18 months and all that's happened, and it's kinda blowing my mind. I am so grateful for all the opportunities I've had and the people who have made them amazing. There have definitely been some hard times but definitely more great ones.
So weird to think that 18 months ago I...

hadn't started the creative track.

which means i didn't know these people.

hadn't lived in the candy shoppe

which means i hadn't lived at all

i had goggles

instead of laser vision

i drove this

not this

char char did not exist

and susie hadn't changed our lives

i hadn't met them

or him

or lived here.

I feel pretty good about the last 18 months. I think I'm going to feel even better about them tomorrow.

Friday, 10 December 2010

Monday, 6 December 2010


today i really miss the flying nancys. why do people have to grow up?

Sunday, 28 November 2010

zit patch: fail

Sometimes I am a victim of delusion. I shall give you an example. is it ok to talk about zits online? ah well.
On Friday I started to feel an underground zit coming on. You know the ones that are massive, painful, and have a pulse of their own? Ugh.

So I found this in my drawer:

The "1-Hour Pimple Patch." Please notice that it is battery powered...? A combination of sheer desperation/curiosity came over me and I had to try it.

So, for the next few hours I lounged around with a giant white thing on my chin as the family made fun. Adults were amused, kids were confused.

Jack: "Rebbie, you have something on your chin."
Me: "I know Jack. You don't know now but someday when you're older, you'll get zits. Do you know what those are?"
Jack: (blank stare)
Me: "'s when you get red things on your face that hurt real bad and injure your self confidence"
And little Jack ran away.

Suffice it to say that the Pimple Patch did not work as well as delusion made me think it would. Defeated, I removed it after the allotted hour and we went off to lunch. Whilst we were enjoying a delicious meal, brother in law Jeff noticed something white and ineffective on sister Amy's sleeve. Lo n' behold, THE ZIT PATCH, tagging along for lunch!!! Jeff's reaction? "Awesome. Now there's a zit on your shirt." But don't worry Aims, he's kidding. It's still residing safely on my face.

Lesson learned I guess, life's trials are never so easily resolved. I did just get a new thing of face wash though, and look what came with?

I'mma bring it with me next time I play Sports.

Wednesday, 17 November 2010

always be her baby.

It has been quite the stressful few weeks, and I felt inspired to give a shout out to the one person who has been there for me through it all.
If this woman doesn't scream indomitable spirit and unfailing confidence, I don't know what does.
Remember Daydream? First CD I ever bought.
And how can we forget Rainbow? I have a feeling this was the last successful mainstream rainbow-wearing.
I remember driving to Lake Powell with all my cousins and dancing our hearts out. I still remember wanting to be my cousin Lisa and know every word, and I can say with pride that at least I have accomplished and maintained the last part of that goal. Yeah, it's like that ya'all.
Mariah has played a vital role in the woman I am today. Or at least the woman I am inside my head.
Mariah rocks windblown hair like no one else.
She can catfight herself and no one cares.
She changes body shape & size daily and we barely notice anymore.
She can marry a man 10 years her junior and get PREGNANT WITH HIS BABY!!! (yes, baby cannon is expected next spring)
She can be 40 years old without even realizing it.
She can write awful lyrics like, "you're a mom & pop, I'm a corporation, I'm the press conference, you're a conversation" and i'll still sing (shout) them from my shower or car.
Some may peg her confidence as delusional, but I find it inspiring. Mariah, we belong together. And all I want this November 17th is YOU.

Sunday, 7 November 2010


just finished the latest crazy idea. thoughts?

Sunday, 24 October 2010

I'm not one of those salad-eater girls.

There are several important phases you go through as a woman and it seems the one I am now entering is the salad-eating phase. I've noticed that over the last few years more and more of my friends are ordering salads at dinner. I watch with befuddlement as they spend their precious pennies on feeble leafy greens. As my charming friend Holli so eloquently facebook statused: "You can't get full off salad."
It seems, however, that women of a certain age are socialized to think you can. Take Showers, for example. If you took a poll of every shower (baby, wedding, whatever) that has occurred in the last millennium, I am willing to stake my firstborn that three counterfeit food groups have been offered for consumption:
("Salad" as a category technically encompasses anything from jello to potato, but i'm gonna stick with green for the purpose of this argument. Don't even get me started on quiche.)

The Shower, what I consider the essence of womanhood, consists of a bunch of ladies getting together eating a 'light' meal. Guys. Why are we doing this to ourselves? I am so fine admitting I eat normal stuff. Maybe it's just my last denial of adulthood, thinking I can eat real food and it won't affect me. Ughh. I've thought about what it would be like to utter the sentence: "I'll just have a salad, thank you. Dressing on the side." I'm just not sure I posses the willpower.

I remember one time being on a date with a guy who mentioned how he liked girls who ate real food and didn't just order a salad. BEST NEWS EVER! Of course I'm planning our wedding as I assure him I am not one of those fake girls, and order a steak or some other calorie-laden food.
He never called me again.

Here's the thing though, my lettuce aversion really isn't my fault, it's Zupa's. Yes, yes, I know you think I'm above it but at one (low) point at my life I was indeed a SALAD MASTER. This title is real, and I possessed it. I worked my tail off studying for the S.M. test.
"Let's see, Nuts About Berries has 6 cranberries, 4 strawberries, 3.5 blueberries and a child's fistful of candied almonds."
That was just the written portion.
The practical portion involved me whipping up all twelve salads in twelve minutes as my boss in vegetable pants looked on. Good thing Ratatouille was in my hat. (jk about that last part)
Can you blame me though? Now that you know my past?

I'd heard all these rumors about salads in fact having more fat than something like a cheeseburger and didn't believe it. I mean it just doesn't seem possible. So I looked it up. Namely CPK's Thai Crunch Salad. If you like this salad, or ever plan on eating it again, please do not read the statement below.
That pig in sheep's clothing has 35.9 grams of fat per serving. The serving size is half a salad.
Really though, I am deeply sorry to learn the truth as I myself have fallen victim to this salad. Never again though! Maybe.
I'm thinking the moral of the story carbs and be merry, for they taste better than plants.

Thursday, 21 October 2010


I was just informed by my fashionable friend SLOANE that regrowth is in.
My wallet has never been so happy, my hairstylist has never been so sad, I've never been so confused and the RECESSION HAS NEVER BEEN SO GOOD TO US!

Wednesday, 13 October 2010


I'm no Twitter expert. In fact sometimes I find myself tweeting 7 times in one day and then 7 times the whole next month. It's definitely a love/hate thing and I think the general public finds it frankly quite mystifying or simply pointless.
I have recently become aware of something quite alarming.
I do believe that the award for having the most followers for the stupidest reason goes to:
(i know, i know i talk about this show a lot. i have no dignity.)
My first find was when my friend tweeted @ALIFEDOTOWSKY. Background pic is (what else?) she and Roberto hand in hand.

I mean...I guess I'm bitter that I had to earn my 162 followers by tweeting witty bits of 140 character goodness while she just gives @deannapappas and @designerjillian shoutouts about their next fashion show and has 55,580!!! Ugh.

( looks like being a 'helpless romantic' has done wonders for her television personality career)

I guess I thought it took some level of accomplishment or sophistication to garner over 30,000 followers. I mean, I hate to break it to you Ali, but falling in love with Roberto was in reality not that difficult of a task. In fact BILLIONS of girls did the same thing at home without even putting on makeup. Not to mention that one dress you wore that had the rhinestone choker.

Seriously though once you find one of these ex-bachelors in the twittersphere you can hansel and gretel your way to every other single one. Ever. They're like real, live, social network narcissist bffs!

One of my favorite finds was Tenley.

Curse the day my love life becomes part of my twitterbio! Bless her heart tho.
How presh are she and kip? I'm not even being completely sarcastic about this. So much niceness in one couple it's insane. But...

I won't say anything.

I feel sorry for people who have nothing better to do than this...

I guess incessantly blogging about the bachelor to prove you don't like it could fit under the same category. Dang it.

Just one more thing and i'm done. Brad Womack? Really?

Monday, 11 October 2010

happy birthday, you two.

Should I be embarrassed that every October 11th I get nostalgic for these girls?
Pretty sure I still remember their handshake.
Pretty sure in 1998 Ellery modeled one of her outfits exactly after one of theirs.
Pretty sure they're in jail.

Thursday, 7 October 2010

top bunk

I am the mistress of the top bunk.
I wish I could say it was because I had some character-building childhood where I always had to share a room and had since developed a love for this particular sleeping arrangement. No, instead I waited until I was an adult and could pay for the chance to sleep at a higher altitude.

It all started my sophomore year when Betsy and I moved into this awesome place called Chandelle. We had this orphan room, seriously standing room only. So we thought long and hard--what would make it so we both could fit in here?

I thought I'd heard the top one was the better end of the deal, so I dibsed that real quick. I was smart too, cause the foot and a half of space between her mattress and mine was impossible to access without pulling a catherine-zeta-jones-in-entrapment move. Being the feisty individual that she is, Bets called her dad to come put dowels in between our beds. Good news for her, HEAD ON THE CEILING FOR ME. I literally could not sit on my bed without getting scoliosis. In order to get up there I had to fetch the hardware ladder out of my parents' garage and stick it in our room. Every time I climbed up, the whole structure shook so badly she either yelled at me in her sleep or woke up altogether.
The next semester we forced Brie and Ker to switch us rooms. They took the bunk beds apart. There was plenty of space in that stupid room.

Since then I have come to dominate the top bunk, in various locations all over the world. From New York, to London, to Paris, to Scotland, to right here in our very own Provo, Utah, I have graced it with my sleepy presence. All I can do is express my gratitude for the stellar bunkmates who have gotten me through these times.

In its defense, there's something adrenaline inducing about ninja climbing my way up to the top bunk while the roommate is asleep. I also find it strangely charming to be awakened with a jolt of gravity as I tumble down every morning. Life on the top has been good to me and I do believe I've grown rather attached to it. In fact, I'm not sure when it could possibly come to an end. Someone reminded me that maybe it will happen when i'm married? Maybe he'll have to deal with it.

Thursday, 30 September 2010

hey there, mister.

sneak peek. don't worry, i'll totally crop em or something with my photoshops.

Monday, 13 September 2010

another one bites the dust

sometimes i feel weird about being the last of my graduating class who's still single. it's kind of like when i was the last to get asked to prom, only way worse.
but then i remember that once i got asked to prom, i got asked TWICE!! in one night!!!!
i'm not really sure how to interpret this, but i think it means there's a bright, double light at the end of the tunnel. or maybe just that i'm the next contestant on the MORMON BACHELORETTE.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

gym rat.

So I've decided to be super alt and admit that I love Gold's Gym. I mean if you think about it, where else can the brawny and brainless find acceptance and a lifelong career? I'm having serious serious regrets about not bringing my camera with me to work out, since the other day this sign was on the door:
Someone didn't learn there grammar.

I have this secret fantasy of teaching one of those classes though. I guess it's delusional to think I could fit in with that crowd but don't you think it'd be inspirational for people to follow someone with a realistic body type? At least it wouldn't build false expectations. I'm trying to think what would qualify me for that job...
There was that giggly girl who always wore spandex and a visor and had shiny skin. "Hehe... Great job it out now, tehehe.."
Then there's Julie. 6 feet tall, booty shaking, nothing but muscle.
Then there's Rona. Ohhhh Rona. I think she's a she.
It seems that the ability to be bangin in spandex is imperative. While that may not describe me precisely, I feel I owe it to my progenitor to try it out.

Ever since I can remember my mother has awaken at the crack of dawn to teach step aerobics to a group of stalwart ladies at our church building. They use homemade wooden steps, carry 3 pound weights, and talk about gardening while doing repeaters and 6-count mambos. It's been her life goal to get me up for her class, and all three times i've been I must say it's pretty legit.

Butttt let's be honest there's no way I'm getting up at 5 am to burn a few calories and talk zinnias. Instead I've found another class with another group of 40-year-old women to attend. I'm not sure whether I work twice as young as them or if I'm just performing a middle-aged workout, but I love it. So much so that I've basically arranged my life schedule around it (ask my co-workers, they love waiting until 11 to have meetings.)

At this point I'm basically besties with these chicks, and I'm finding that once you go class you don't go back. How can I leave my safe haven and re-enter the open market now? That guy who always wears the full body unitard? Please tell me you've seen him. Petrifying.
Not to mention the trainers and their analogies:
"Do you know what going to the gym without a trainer is like? It's like your parents putting you in a library full of books instead of sending you to college."*
Yeah....since you went to college, eh? I mean I recognize i'm using this neck machine totally wrong, but for heavens sake I will kill you if you call me out right now.

Why is it that the most embarrassing things have to happen at the gym? As if the red face, b.o. and sweavage wasn't enough, that cardio cinema is a DEATH TRAP OF EXERCISE MACHINERY! One minute i'm watching Channing Tatum step it up, the next I'm pop lock & droppin off my treadmill and onto the ground behind me, in plain sight of that guy from my English class. Ugh.

Maybe I will pull out all the stops and try a Zumba class. Yeah, my middle aged lady posse might kill me for ditching them but hey, a girl's gotta burn what a girl's gotta burn. And if anyone feels like joining me ind what promises to be an entertaining evening filled with spandex and meatheads, do let me know.

*this is an exact quote quoted upon me several years ago. fortunately, i wasn't 18 and he couldn't legally ruin my day.

Tuesday, 31 August 2010

the consequence of boredom.

as many of you know, i spend the large majority of my waking hours in the byu ad lab. as many of you don't know, our unofficial logo/mascot is this:
strange i guess but there you have it, a symbol of our infantile yet brilliant minds.
this one time i was really bored. and really tired of being really bored. and i had this idea and knew andy would be on board.
so we made a little present for our commander in chief jeff. it's our mascot, the lovechild of mr. laugenour and myself, and the embodiment of our unofficial motto: "IDEAS, BABY!"

isn't she beautiful?

Thursday, 26 August 2010

digital pda

let me preface this by saying that i am fully supportive of people being ridiculously, senselessly, giddily in love...

i'm just not sure how much more of this i can take :);):D!!!

call me 22 and SiNgLe, but do you have to share your love for each other via the internet??
haha it's like sooo weird :) how we can't just tell each other in person!!!

srsly, i think i might DIE if i see one more sappy wall post :):):) :D!!

and like, i'm just wondering if you have :D his phone number so you could :):) call him and tell him you love him?!?! :) long as it takes place OFF the internet.

Tuesday, 10 August 2010


Welp, i splurged. And what a lovely week it was.

Just had to report on a few things I did in case anyone is in nyc and needs something to splurge on.

First, if you or any part of you enjoys jazz, you MUST go see some at VILLAGE VANGUARD in the West village.

I'm not sure what it is about jazz...I really don't know the first thing about it, but it kind of makes me purr. I was always being accused of being a closet jazz pianist by my fellow Flying Nancys. I think maybe I like it because when I listen to it, I imagine myself looking like this.

Anyway, the place is legit, bunch of old dudes, one of whom wore this red silk shirt and closed his eyes every time he touched his sax. Only $20 bucks if you're a student. GO!

Second thing was seeing MEMPHIS. I stood in line to get student tickets three days in a row and finally got em. My dear friend Charlotte and I went and were on the absolute first row of the theater, aka underneath the orchestra pit.

(she doesn't usually look drunk. haha)

We were thoroughly damp with their sweat and spit by the end, but it was so worth it. To give you an idea of how awkwardly close I was, here is a pic I snuck at the end. We stood up to applaud and my nose was in this guy's knee caps. Weird.

My (favorite) calorie splurge came in the form of ALICE'S TEACUP for brunch. The place is amazing, they do birthday parties for little girls with dressups and everything. You must eat the pumpkin scones. Don't ask me why I didn't take a picture, but I went with three lovely ladies who I adore.

My roomies had a little fiesta on our rooftop on the last night I was in town and it was so great. Ellie even wore her denim jumpsuit for me, courtesy of the Brooklyn Flea--another thing you must splurge on if you are in the area.

Sad to think I won't see these people for a while. Chad is going to miss me so much. Can't you see it on his face?

Lest you think my life is all fun and food, delta made my flight out an absolute nightmare. They charged me $115 DOLLARS to check my overweight bag, which might I add was overweight when I left and Jet Blue didn't say a word. Our 7 pm flight was delayed until 12:20 am...then 1:40 am...then 2:30 am. Blah!!!! I don't think I have ever been so helplessly furious.

So now I'm home, and it is strange. Silent. Can't decide if it's peaceful or isolated. It has been so lovely to see people and I have been strangely really busy. And sick. And exhausted. Today it's off to Bear Lake with the whole fam and the babies!!! I really can't complain but I think I'd like to just sit in my bed for a day. And I'm sorry for this boring post but I felt like nyc deserved one last shout out.

As for the Etta James...she has been the soundtrack of my summer. I'd give anything for those pipes!

Monday, 26 July 2010

the end is near.

I have officially entered my last week here in the nyc. It's been a swarm of very mixed emotions and i'm guessing it will only get worse. 
I'm constantly debating whether to splurge or to save. Someone help me rationalize choosing the former. 
 I made a bucket list of things I wanted to do before I left, then realized 98% of them had to do with food. Not surprising but still, semi embarrassing. So...if anyone has any other, low-cal, wallet-friendly suggestions, send them my way.
If you had a week in this city, what would you do?

Tuesday, 13 July 2010

Above the Influence (Of charming Brits)

I’m sick of British accents. I’m sick of them being instantly funny, instantly charming, instantly sophisticated, and instantly hired.

Here’s what I don’t get. Didn’t we kick them out? And now they hop back across the pond, utter one word of their “pure” English and all we can do is swoon. I don’t even mean a romantic comedy sort of swoon. It is my humble opinion that the most platonic and non attraction-based of swoons is un American. And that they need to stop.

The following is an eclectic group of Brits I have previously been seduced by. R.I.P. friends and lovers!! Consider this your eulogy.


I’ve witnessed first hand the measurable difference between my English and British English. There is this one person who went to school with me, who is British, and is most definitely the darling of the byu ad program…not to mention everything else he does. One day, we (he) convinced our professor to order pizza for a group meeting we were having. I order the pizza, from Brick Oven, 25 feet from the Brimhall and they told me it would be an hour and a half before they could get it to us. He, of course, was incensed that anyone would dare keep us hungry for that long!! He asked me to call them back to complain but I had a better idea—YOU CALL THEM BACK.  Sure enough, what did they say? We’ll get your pizza in 15 minutes.


There is a man who might work where I work. He’s new. And he is a tall, parted-haired, dreamboat of a Brit. I’ve overheard multiple conversations by multiple groups of females on multiple floors in his behalf. One of my friends got stuck alone with him on the elevator. She tried to talk to him but said she couldn’t understand what he was saying. I’m not sure if this is due to swoon-induced hearing loss but I thought it was semi ridiculous. I mean…we do still speak the same language right? It made me think of that one time there was a British man on the Bachelorette and they put subtitles on every time he spoke. Where is our dignity, women??! Do we speak English or not?!?? Anyway. I keep seeing him in the halls and I’m pretty sure he wants to date me. We had a meeting with him the other day and yeahhhh. Post-meeting I caught two of my middle-aged co-workers looking him up on our company website. After a 20 minute debate we finally decided it was too soon to add him on Facebook.

Giant. Pathetic. Swoon.

My friends and I have considered starting an accent immersion program so that decent, hardworking Americans like us can find work in our native land. Better yet, what if we move somewhere else? To London? Do they find our accents as charming as we find theirs? My four, boy-drought months there makes me think no, but I asked yahoo anyway:

(straight from the mouth of a Brit!!!)

“Hmmmm... difficult question.
I think for me it depends on the accent. I may be more surrounded by Americans than the average Briton so I think a lot of the novelty has worn away. Some US girls have seriously sexy accents, but there are some that make you want to wince. The compulsion of some of my US friends to overshare and talk loudly in public places makes me feel somewhat embarressed sometimes!
Southern states accents do nothing for me, but then I do have a friend from Florida and her accent is awesome. 
But to be fair, there's plenty of accents here in the UK you never hear on films and tv that are so annoying they would make you feel like your ears were falling out so it's swings and roundabouts.”

A)   Is that the English spelling of embarrassed?

B)   Swings and roundabouts? Ugh, even their useless sayings are charming.

C)   At least in America we aren’t afraid to have a public voice. I happen to think the overweight man yelling at everyone on the subway last night was an inspiring show of democracy.

D)   Can someone tell me how to do a Florida accent?

In reality, I don’t think there’s much hope of competing with our charismatic allies from the motherland. For now all I can do is hold on to my pride, keep my head high, and try to keep from swooning. Because as Edgemont Elementary taught me, there ain’t no doubt I love this land—God bless the United States of American English.