News Flash: I Have Somewhat of a Life

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Five days since I've posted. It's felt like a pretty long five days. But during those five days was one of the funnest weekends I can remember. 'What?!' You say, 'Aly has a life?' Yes folks. I have had quite the wild ride in the past week, consisting of many many things such as...
Cole Gordon
J Maw
T Rose
Spoolin' it up
Spool. Need I say more? Pool sized hot tub. Spa pool. Spool. Now let me tell you, we love Taylor Rose. Not for her spool, not for her tickets (Cole....hahaha), not for her party ice. We love Taylor for Taylor. Buuuut the spool comes in handy on a lovely Saturday night. :) Me and T Rose made some unreal pancakes. Definitely ghetto fabulous.
Friday night... easily one of weirdest things I've done in 2011 (so far, that is). Spontaneous bonfire in a culdesac made out of a bird feeder, wood, matches, and some awesome Temppanyaki gasoline. Oh and not to mention the continuous screams from Mac and T Rose before leaving the house? I will never forget that... considering the fact that they almost permanently damaged my ear drum.
 Car rides home jammin' along to the Spanish station?

Shout out to my Power 4!!
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I could never ever say it enough.
Tay: I loved our awkward "Hi bye" relationship for the first 3 years of our history. It was the MWC Tourney in Vegas that brought us out of that stage. We walked down to the gift shop of JW Marriott and started playing with light up rings. Then you decided to break one. We started laughing hysterically and left the store. The next day we went to check on it and sure enough, it was still blinking like crazy. That was the trip that we bought our 'friendship rings'. Mine was green and yours was white and if you pushed them, they lit up. I never told you... but mine broke the next week. I was biting it. :) Thank you for letting me crash at your place, and 2 times in a row this weekend. Thank you for the idea of a quote book. Thank you for talking to me on the phone every night. Thank you for listening to me talk 'til 2 a.m. until I roll over to see you snoring. Thank you for letting me LITERALLY bore you to sleep. Thank you for letting me crash that first Provo High School football game. Because of that night I have so many friends that I would never have had the chance to even meet. You don't realize how much you mean to me.
Mackin: Ohh homie. Can I just say that I will never ever forget the first time we played. September 24th after the Provo High football game. The eve of my 15th birthday:) We ran around Macey's looking for chocolates, cheetos, and Zotz (yes, that was definitely the first time I ever had Zotz). We sat in our spankees and showed each other our muscles, and our lack of muslces that we wish we didn't lack. Midnight struck and you and Tay were the first ones to wish me a happy 15th birthday. Who would have thought that just a few months later we would be best friends. Thank you for listening to me talk about irrelevant, stupid things that I forget about the next day. Thank you for being short with me... without you my shortness would be a shock to Provo High. Buuut thanks to you, they're immune to it ;) Happy 17th birthday!! December. (I just wanna be the first to say happy birthday.. doesn't hurt to return a favor).

Kim: First time we clicked: back rubs quote. SO MONEY! That was the day I got your number and we started texting about random things. Then we hung out a couple times, saw each other at the basketball games, and the rest just fell right into place. You are beautiful! Don't you ever forget it. And you're worth so so much to me, and to everyone else. Thank you for letting me call you at 1 a.m. Thank you for talking to me on the phone every night. Thank you for talking me out of my little sad times. Thank you for laughing at my retarded jokes and lines that really shouldn't even get the courtesy laugh. Thank you for sharing your last legit bottle of Coca Cola with me. Thank you for making me laugh when I need it, or when I don't need it at all. Thank you for staying up late and talking on the phone to Isaac with me at your house (haaaaaahahahahahahahahaha). Thank you for being the perfect height for my head to rest right on top of your shoulder.

Overall, thanks for everything girls. Power 4 for life. I looove you :)

J Maw and Cole Gordon...
 Hahaha. I love you boys. Thank you for making everything fun. And thank you for thinking I look pretty without make up on. :)

Last but not least...
Addie Lamb.
Thank you for being my soul sister. It's as simple as that. You're so sweet, so adorable, and we're buying a duplex for our future families. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for sharing everything with me- from diapers, to perfume. I love you sooo much, more than I can say, and I always will.

Ah friends. Don't you just love them No matter how close, far, weird, spontaneous they may be.. they always give you a good time. Who would have thought that a bonfire with 7 people would be a blast? No one. But friends can make anything seem like the funnest night of your life. (My mom makes fun of me cause I always say 'of my life') The best memories I have ever made have been the stupid, random things with my really good friends. Honestly though... What would I do without these kids? Spooling would be no party at all. Ke$ha would be just a random stoner that didn't make me think of Cole Gordon. Chasing J Maw down to get my phone would be non existent. Tanning oil would not bring back memories of Addie Lamb's tramp. Let's be real... life would not be the same without my peeps, that's for sure.
That's all for tonight.
G'night, my FRIENDS.

My 10 Guilty Pleasures

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Guilty pleasures. Unfortunately, we all have them. But guess who gets to hear my top 10 guiltiest of the guilty pleasures?
You do.
I guarantee I will regret this. But there's no going back. Here we go :/

Guilty Pleasure #1: I absolutely love Pretty Little Liars and The Bachelor/Bachelorette. They are the most girly, dramatic shows I can think of and I'm ashamed to be so into them. Buuut I am. And I'm okay with it.

Guilty Pleasure #2: I enjoy going to Wal Mart or some place like that and talk in an accent. Usually a British one, or Spanish kind of thing. And I just ask about the country.

Guilty Pleasure #3: If a scary guy is ever hitting on me, I act like I'm pregnant. You know, lean back. Grab my stomach and grunt loud, painful grunts. Make him over hear me talking about a kid... that whole shabang. He immediately catches on and doesn't bother me again. Sketchy plan, I know. But I'd rather do that than be stalked by a risky man.

Guilty Pleasure #4: I don't eat Mac N Cheese unless it's covered in ketchup. Mmmm. I'm real picky about ketchup, but on Mac N Cheese I just can't get enough.

Guilty Pleasure #5: When I go to In-N-Out, I ask for like 5 of the big sauce packages. Unlike most girls, or humans for that matter, I cover my sauce in fries.

Guilty Pleasure #6: I love taking pictures of myself. Not cute ones. Not pretty ones. Not ones with beautiful make up and hair. Crazy ones. I make faces and take pictures in my room and just laugh so hard, because some faces I make are unbearably funny... to me, at least.

Guilty Pleasure #7: I love Secondhand Serenade. He's so cheesy and so cliche. But his writing amazes me and I fall asleep to him every single night. :) (oh and he's my friend on Facebook, which I'm really really proud of)

Guilty Pleasure #8: I love singing in bed. Not legit singing. Like yelling. One morning I woke myself up because I was belting Love You I Do by Jennifer Hudson in my sleep. Eh... not belting. More like screaming.

Guilty Pleasure #9: I daydream lots. Love love love it. Sometimes I daydream about wonderful things like marrying a buff man hunk or eating a huge ice cream sundae. But sometimes I daynightmare and think myself into worries. I think way way too much. And it causes me to worry myself.

Last, but certainly not least...

Guilty Pleasure #10: I love pickle juice. You're grimacing right now, I know it. But it's so great. *pause* I just went to get some pickle juice. And I'm drinking it as we speak.... type.... read... ??

I hope I've inspired you to not be so guilty about your guilty pleasures. Expect a post tomorrow...

And promise me you'll try the pickle juice.


Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick....

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Don't you hate those days that nothing seems to go your way? I do.
That day is today.

Nothing awful happened. My dog did not die. My best friends didn't call me a dirty rotten back stabber. I did not stub my toe. Nope. It's just been a day when nothing goes right. One of those days that every little thing bugs you and nothing seems to be going on your side of the scoreboard. My printer broke down. Lost the stupid Bubble Shooter game like 5 times in a row. My head is aching like crazy. School is way too much for me. I don't care about geometry, I don't care about India, I don't care about the muscles that I use to dance.

Life's just going so slow.

I know I really should be looking at the positive things... but ehh, cram it. I'm not feelin' the happy mood today. The world would just be Candy Land and Happy freaking Island. Which would not be as great as it sounds. So now that I am in the 'let's not be optimistic' mood, I will tell you one thing that I hate- and that I've especially hated for the past couple months.

I hate time.

It just plays with your head. It goes by SO fast when you don't want it to, but so slow when you do. Seems like just yesterday I was 10 years old and 'sneakily' kicking peoples butts underwater at the Pleasant Grove Pool with my cousins (I thought I was so sneaky. Ha psych! They noticed). But it seems like forever ago that I was sitting in 3rd period just waiting for that stinkin' bell to ring. Yes folks, that was but a couple of hours ago. But the number one thing about time that I can't stand is that some times are so great and easy, but some are so rough to get through. I know that without all this there would be no difference between good and bad, happy or sad. But it's so hard for me to wrap my brain around. Why do certain times have to be so much more difficult than others?

There are those times when you're so happy and nothing in the world can bring you down.
Then something does.
There are those times when you're so lost and nothing will ever go your way.
Then something does.
There are those times when time needs to slow down.
It never does.
There are those times when time can't pass soon enough.
It never does.
The moral of this story? I don't really know. I don't think I'll ever know. There will never be a reason that time will never go your way. Guess it's one of the mysteries of this weird, messed up, crazy, beautiful life that I will never solve.. especially as an immature 15 year old who may or may not still kick people butts underwater at the Pleasant Grove Pool.

"Beauty is Imperfection" -Marilyn Monroe

Monday, February 7, 2011

We all have things about ourselves that we don't like. I could name plenty...
 My eyes are brown.
My stomach isn't rock solid.
My hair isn't to my waist.
My teeth aren't white as fresh snow.
My skin isn't always smooth as butter.

But guess what?
I am beautiful.
You are beautiful.
And that's the beauty of beauty.

Every girl/woman would change things about herself if she could- it's only human. But why is it that girls my age are so hard on themselves? Is it Seventeen magazine? Is it Kim Kardashian? Is it the boys who love a perfect body? Or is it simply the want to be perfect at this age?

But the point is, who is perfect? And what IS perfection?

Don't even try to deny that you're sitting there thinking, 'Perfect? Hmm... perfect is a nice body, beautiful hair, big colorful eyes, talent.' Sure, those things are always nice. 

NEWS FLASH: they are NOT perfection. 

The one thing that breaks my heart is a girl who denies her talent and her beauty.

I went through a time where I lacked confidence. There was almost no confidence in me at all. I was 'too fat'. My hair wasn't 'pretty'. I wasn't worth anything. I looked in the mirror and saw just a girl trying to stand out in a crowd of extremely pretty girls at a high school. And I can assure you, that was one of the worst times I can remember. It was all because I did not understand beauty. But guess what?

I finally caught on.
 I got a grasp on the fact that beauty can't be bottled.
Beauty doesn't need Photo Shop.
Beauty is inside, no matter how cliche that dang saying is.
Beauty is confidence.
Beauty is a genuine smile- not a white, straight, flawless one.
And beauty is imperfection.

To all the girls out there (cause I have SO many readers... Psych), please look in the mirror tonight and point out the things you love about yourself. Because no matter how much I hate these following things,

 The freckle by my right eye.
My brown eyes.
My "curves".
The length of my hair.
The tooth with the chip that I exaggerate a little too much.
My not insanely white teeth.
My split ends.
Because they are my flaws. I've learned to love them, and I've learned to make them beautiful.

Attached is a picture of my friend and I. I don't care what you say, I think it's beautiful.
Good night, ladies and gents.

What I'd Give to Go Back...

Sunday, February 6, 2011

"Come on!"
"Everyone else is doing it!"
"Stop it.. you're embarrassing me."
and the most used phrase to a mother....
"You just don't understand me!"

Pretty big statements to someone who brought you into this world, wouldn't you say? I've been thinking about my mother a lot lately, and how much she has done/does for me. I look back on my childhood and think how, and more importantly, WHY I talked to my mom the way I did. To be honest, I was a brat. If I didn't get my way, I'd cry and scream and pout until I did. And when I didn't, I would cry and scream and pout until I couldn't do it anymore. That was my toddler-10 years old stage of life. My poor mom endured all of that, on top of regular the stress of being a mother.
Then I got over that... and I hit my 'that's not my mom' stage of life.
The stage when I wouldn't want to be seen being dropped off by her.
The stage when I would get upset when she would dance in the kitchen while making dinner.
The stage when I didn't laugh at her stupid jokes, because I was way better and more 'mature' than that.
To sum it up, I thought I was as mature as 30 year old and I didn't need a mother.
Who was the one doing my laundry?
Who was the one making every single meal for me?
Who was the one waking me up for school?
Who was the one reminding me to do every single thing, including brushing my teeth?
In all reality, I was NOT as mature as a 30 year old... and I probably won't be that mature when I AM 30. But my mom dealt with it. She dealt with my whining, she dealt with me wanting to grow up too fast.
Which brings me to my next point...
Why is it that when we are young, all we want is to grow up. I feel like that applies with my childhood... a little too much. I was in kindergarten and listening to Brittney Spears. I was in first grade and wanted to be Ashley Olsen. Pop culture was my interest starting at 6 years old.

Little did I know that when I was 15 years old, I'd be willing to give anything to go back to those days.
The days when homework was coloring a picture of the first letter of your name, or tracing over dashed letters. 
The days when girls were always nice to you, and told you that you looked cute every single day. 
The days where you could run around in your underwear in your front yard and it was considered cute.
The days when boys had cooties, and they were never a concern. Because who would want a boy to like them? Yuck, right?!
The days when a scrape from the jungle gym was the end of the world, but just a band-aid fixed everything.
The days when you looked in the mirror and smiled about your toothless mouth, or pointed out your bruises to other kids, or played with the skin on your stomach.
There was no future.
It was all about the present.
No concerns, no worries, no stress about anything.
other than what color Snowie you would choose.
Back to the biggest and baddest comment ever given to a mom,

"You just don't understand me!"
The honest truth is, my mother probably understood me more than I did at that point... and probably still does. Mothers DO know best, no matter what anyone wants to say.
I've learned to appreciate the embarrassing dances my mom used to do, and still whips out on occasions.
I've learned to laugh at my mother's lame parent humor, no matter how stupid it is.
I've learned that I don't need to grow up as fast as I really want to, and that maybe I don't even WANT to grow up as fast as I thought I wanted to.
Most importantly...
I've learned that I'd be nothing without my mother.

Mom, you're my everything. Thank you for putting up with my whining. My growing up too fast. My demands, needs, and wants (which really are way too demanding to be honest). My indecisive times when I was little. My dramatic nights when I cry, cry, cry, and cry some more about things that won't matter in 5 years.

You have it in writing, and are more than welcome to hold it against me on a stubborn day.

Blogging: Chore or Hobby?

Saturday, February 5, 2011

I've tried oh so many times to blog and it never really works out too great. My 3 best friends (who you'll hear about lots in the future) just made their own blogs so why not me? I'm hoping this isn't my first and last post. I find myself wasting most of my time on Facebook, which gets quite boring. Is Blogger my next addiction?
Cross your fingers, folks.
Speaking of Facebook, what's with the "50 random facts about me" notes? First off, 50 facts is way WAY too many unnecessary things that people don't care about. Let's be honest... they're super lame. But let's be honest again... they're super fun to read.

Am I really doing this? Here we go. 20 random facts about Al.

1. I love hot. Hot anything. Hot weather, hot cocoa, hot showers, hot tubs, and especially hot males.
2. Spiders are equal to Satan. If you want me to die, place me and a spider on an island. I can assure you I will swim to heaven.
3. Addie Lamb is my soul sister. We've been sisters since the day she was born. I love her more than I can say.
4. I'm a proud member of the Power 4. My 3 best friends and I are like the 4 amigos. We call ourselves the Power 4. This kick-A group consists of me (Aly), Kim (Kimchi), Makenna (Mac, Mackin, Mac Baby D, Mac Daddy), and Taylor (Tay, Trosey). We're a crazy group of ladies. Love em to death.
5. Basketball is my all time favorite sport. I'm a huge Celtics fan.... I'm alllll green, kids.
6. I hate lists of stupid things that people don't care about. This is a rare occurrence, my friends.
7. My dream car is a 2011 black Range Rover HSE Sport with black rims. So nasty sick. So out of my budget... or any 15 year old girls' for that matter.
8. My phone is ghetto. I butt call at least 3 people a day. Who knows what has been heard through an unintentional call from Al's booty.
9. If I could be unreal at anything, it would either be dance or volleyball. I am a dancer, but I'm not as good as I want to be. And let's be real, volleyball is so smooth. All those beach volleyball players with their sick bodies. But here I sit. Blogging. Eating cookies. In my sweats. On a Saturday night. I have the sickest bod you'll ever see. Psych.
10. I can talk/sing with my mouth closed. Strange? Nah. Admirable? H word yes.
11. Cotton balls will be the death of me. They give me the chills and I hate them.
12. I love talking on the phone. Texting is decent. But talking on the phone is way more entertaining and WAY more social.
13. Beyonce is my hero. The day I can sing like her will be the day I'm genuinely happy.
14. I wish I had blue or green eyes. But to my dismay, reality is harsh. And reality is accepting my boring brown eyes.
15. Music is my life. If I'm not singing music, I'm writing music. If I'm not writing music, I'm dancing to music. If I'm not dancing to music, I'm listening to it.
16. I'm super picky about ketchup. It depends on the amount of it and what it's on. I'm very very oober picky about the stuff.
17. I love In-N-Out. For some reason their fries are heaven to me. Soo good.
18. I could live on Frosted Flakes. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Midnight snack. I could gladly eat them anytime.
19. Chris Brown is really really attractive to me. Dancer. Singer. I have nothing against him for anything....
which brings us to our final stupid fact.....
20. I hate Rihanna. Oh so so so much. One day I'll do a post about the celebrities I hate. Rihanna will have a great part in that. I could make a list of 100 reasons why I can't stand the chick. Heaven forbid me. I'm raging just thinking about it.

There ya go. 20 facts about me. Now you know me on a personal level. Psych. Well you know what I'm into. And that's a start. Wellpp.. I'm sleepy. Maybe I'll go watch Fresh Prince. Or possibly do something even more unproductive.

G'night kids.