Sad and pathetic things that happen to the unemployed

Well kids, being unemployed does something to a human being. Not good things....no no....not good things. Here is how my life has changed.

Hygiene. What is hygiene? I gross myself out sometimes. I stongly believe that if you don't move much, there is less opportunity to stink.

Hair. This goes along the same lines as hygiene. I wash my hair soooo much less. I have adopted this new chic style of putting it in a knot on the top of my head. Its the new thing is Paris, Rome, and basements all across Lehi.

Couch time. Jan made Vaughn rotate his positions on the couch in the basement so he wouldn't get a butt groove in her sofa. Megan and I rotate positions every once in a while so our bodies won't get contorted in the same way each and every day. We are equal opportunity contorters. All parts must somehow feel uncomfortable. And this also lessens butt grooves which are an absolute EPIDEMIC among the unemployed.

Bad bad bad bad TV. Wow. I cannot even describe how bad. Oh, wait. Yes, I can. Yesterday we finished watching "To the Mat" a CMT original movie starring Ricky Schroader (who is no longer Rick Schroader, but Ricky again. Thank you. How else would we know that you are the boy from Silver Spoons?) and the Grinch in a blonde wig and VERY shiny pink lipgloss. Here is the storyline. The Grinch has left whoville and is now a finicial something or other who saves businesses. She goes to the south to help out the Slocum Academy, which is a school for WWE style wrestling. Wackiness ensues. She breaks up with her finance in New York who happens to be Jack Skellington in the flesh with Anderson Cooper's hair and makes out with the kid from Silver Spoons at a waffle house with her Grinch butt in the hair. But I digress. I watched the WHOLE movie. PA- THET- TIC. The movie and me.

Underwear radius gets quite a bit larger. I didn't do this, but I feel it coming. Megan decided she wanted a burger. She went out to turn on the grill in her bathrobe. Well, let me tell you a little somethin' somethin' about these robes. We all got one for Christmas and let's just say they are not the longest thing ever. In fact, they are quite short. Well, for any of you familiar with the Mormon underwears know that they are not short. She had many an inch haning out. And my parents' backyard is not fenced in. And bras are optional, if worn at all.

I am also beginning to feel that bathrobes are acceptable attire. Who needs clothes anymore? I certainly don't. I have always had a fond love of sweatpants, but a robe might be a bit better. My parents have finished the bathroom in the basement (because their children can't get jobs or husbands) and we have had workers here A LOT. They have all seen me rocking the bathrobe. Not the shorty one, but a much more suitable.

If I choose to get dressed, I only wear cutoff shorts and stripity shirts. My poor wardrobe is neglected. I think it cries for me out of lonesomeness. Did I just make up a word? What if I call if lonesomenessity?

I have fabulous makeup and am quite pretty, but alas, I am only operating at like 3% makeup right now.

I am pretty sure I done gone catch me a man like this!

I am in love.....

I really am. And I mean it more than just friends. This is serious.

I love Ryan Reynolds more than just friends. And that is funny because he was in a movie called Just Friends.

I love Nutella more than just friends. If a woman could profess her undying love to a creamy hazelnut/chocolate substance and have it be socially acceptable, then this is it, people.

I love Matt Damon. I have loved him since 7th grade. I made a picture frame of tiny pictures of him at girls camp when I was 13. What did I put in that picture frame??? Another picture of Matt. On my mission, he got married and I told my companion that it was to me. She didn't believe me. LEAST favorite companion.

I love sandwiches and potato chips. I could/eat them everyday. When I run out of either turkey or chips, I get seriously grumpy. Then I go to the store. Then I am happy.

I love Dashboard. Don't judge. You know all the words to their songs, so don't be all "that is so high school." No, its right now.

I love to sleep. I mean, I REALLY love to sleep. If I have the option of sleep or food, I pick sleep (which is shocking because I loooooove food). Pick between showering or being the stinky kid at work (and/or school when I attended, but I have officially dropped out...or graduated), I pick stinky kid every single time. This summer (of patheticness/awesomeness) I sleep until 11 most days. At the beginning of my time at the parentals, Jan would say "don't you want to get up and get the day started?" I would simply respond that it would give me more time to think about how lame my life is, so I choose to sleep as long as I can.

I love a good book. I will ignore everything around me forever just to enjoy a book that is eloquently written or makes me laugh or cry.

I love a good movie. Anything that is well done will do. I seriously lack any sort of emotion about my life (except apathy), but man, movies really get me! I was watching Pearl Harbor for a minute today (staring my boyfriend's BFF, Ben Affleck) and I was tearing up! What is up with that? I had to change the channel because I just finished my makeup.

I love that I'm pretty. Is that horrible? Am I so vain? Probably. How sad would that be to be totally unfortunate looking? I am not gonna lie, I don't wake up looking this good (but oh so close....teehee...) but what if there was not salvaging this mess? I also love that I am a girl. If you are a boy and ugo, there is no help outside of dressing well. I have soooo many products that will keep my face criogenically frozen at 27. It's gonna be weird in 30 years, I tell you what.