Hammerhead Wedding Veil ALERT

I had the most amazing dream last week. And by amazing, I mean it was so awkward and uncomfortable that it almost bordered on a nightmare, and I laughed with sweet relief when I woke up and realized it was just a dream. Some background first:

So, as many of you know, my sister Jackie is getting married this weekend to Georgey. He is awesome, and I am so happy for both of them that I know I am going to blubber like a sentimental boob at their wedding.

I hadn't seen Jackie's wedding dress yet, and I distinctly remember being excited about seeing it as I was falling asleep. In my dream, Jackie was trying on her dress for all of our family to see. I walked into that room that every bridal store has - you know, the one that has three giant mirrors so that the brides can see their dresses from every angle. I was relatively far away, and I was trying to figure out what the strange, white gauzy shape was at the far side of the room.

Then.

THEN.

Jackie turned around and I realized it was her. She had a giant, purple, rhinestone encrusted thing attached to the BACK of her head. Her veil was hanging off of it. She looked like a hammerhead shark. And her dress? It was like a pioneer dress, except it was made out of white satin and dark purple ribbon. Oh, and the skirt was one of those weird, see through, short-in-the-front and long-in-the-back monstrosities that you sometimes see on Miss Teen USA pageants.

The worst part? She loved it. In my dream, I mean. She LOVE loved it, and had already bought it, and since no one else had voiced any objections to it, I felt like I couldn't tell her how horribly ugly her ensemble was.

Thankfully, I then woke up.


Dear cute sister Jackie,
I am so excited for your big day. I am sure you will be radiantly beautiful. Just please promise me you will not to wear this:



... Because I will not be able to stop you.

Love,
Tami

Phase 2. SERIOUSLY.

So, when I get my hair cut at the Paul Mitchell Hair Academy in Rexburg, I ALWAYS ask for a phase 2 hairdressers. They are hairdressers that have finished up the regular training for their licenses, and are just there to learn additional cool hair things. Anyways, I am sure I asked for a Phase 2 girl when I made my appointment on Saturday. POSITIVE.

However, once my hairdresser was ready, I noticed she was taking me to a weird part of the salon. It was crowded, and noisy, and the girls looked really young and OH MY GOSH IT WAS THE PHASE ONE SECTION OF THE SCHOOL. Instant panic attack.

I was faced with two choices: I could either run in the opposite direction and say, "I asked for a phase 2 girl, so BACK AWAY WITH THOSE SHEARS," or I could be polite, grin and bear it, and not ask for anything too complicated.

I should have gone with the former option. My hair looks like the 'Little Dutch Boy' that was featured on the front that brand's paint cans:
Exhibit 1:



Yep. Anyways, performing a Google image search of 'dutch boy paint' actually cheered me up a little bit, because the logo is QUITE creepy, in a hilarious way:

Exhibit 2:


Awesome.

Well, my llama died...

Today before one of my classes began, I was chit-chatting with the people sitting around me. When someone asked if anything exciting had happened in the last few days, this quiet kid said slowly, "Well, my llama died."

I felt bad that no one laughed at his joke, so I giggled and said, "Oh, really?"

And he looked at me. Sadly. "Well, he was really old..."

[5 second silence]

Me: "Oh my gosh. You're serious?"

Him: sad nod. "Yea."

Me. "Oh! Uhhh...I'm sorry."

AWKWARDEST SILENCE IN THE HISTORY OF AWKWARD SILENCES.

That is all.

First week of classes

Since BYU-I does its own thing (and by 'does its own thing,' I mean it has a weird, wonky semester schedule), I had my first week of Spring Semester classes this week. SO AMAZING! I did have to do some crazy class-changing hi-jinx though, because I thought I had signed up for Victorian-era BRITISH lit. When I walked into class, I realized it was Victorian-era AMERICAN lit. Boo. Anyways, I managed to switch it around so I really do have Victorian British Literature now. It is AMAZING. Our funny instructor read "The Lady Of Shallot" my first day there, and it wowed me. I had never heard the entire poem before. My only exposure to it had been through this scene from Anne Of Green Gables:



Anyways. It is gorgeous. Read it here.

My room mates this semester seem adorable, as well. I am super excited about them.

I am a little irritated about one thing, though. Every single semester, the BYU-I accounting office tells me that my student loan funds will be available the first day of classes. And every semester, they don't give it to me for at least a week. That may not seem like a long time, but when I start to turn to ramen noodles as a main source of nutrition, it FEELS like a long time. Its not even my money; it is the loan money my parents took out for me... but some days, I really would like to re-enact that scene from Merry Poppins when the little boy causes a run on the bank by shouting, "Gimme back my moneyyyyyyyyyy!!!" (Fast forward the video to 1:27, so you can skip the creepy old banker's singing/dancing bit)



That is all.

Bowling Brethren

I was walking out of the new BYU-I bookstore today, which is right next to a miniature bowling alley. (I don't know why we have a miniature bowling alley in the student building. It only has like, 5 lanes.) Anyways. I turned the corner, and saw a bunch of religion professors bowling - in their dress clothes - with the bowling alley laser-lights on. They were high-fiving each other and everything. It was hilarious. I should have taken a picture. I though about it, but I would have had to explain myself if someone noticed me.

Feeling sad? Have some Eisley.

I know I haven't blogged a real blog in forever, and its because I am living under a mountain of schoolwork and research papers. I just thought I'd share my remedy for too-much-homework-itis: Eisley. They are just so happy and quirky and dreamy and shiny.

Sigh.

Don't let the slightly creepy intro throw you. Just listen to it all the way through. Ideally, while imagining yourself in a field of wildflowers.

Oy. Eclipse Trailer.

I am incredibly underwhelmed. It did not wow me. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood because of all my homework...but seriously. How did they manage to make Eclipse look boring? The music was pretty. That is about it,though. Boo. New Moon was such a good movie, and based on this trailer, I am worried that Eclipse will drop the ball.

PS - I know that a boring trailer doesn't mean it is going to be a boring movie. But still. I wish I could feel a little more excited about it.


EDIT: Okay, this video made me feel much better. It looks awesome:

Brandon.

My cousin Brandon passed away a few weeks ago. I wanted to blog on how I feel about it, but grief is so personal that after I wrote it, I decided it was journal-territory. Instead, I decided to write down my favorite memory of him, like my sister Kristin did on her blog.

I was about seven, I believe, and I was at my Grandma & Grandpa Tygerson's house. It must have been Easter or Christmas, because my entire extended family from my mom's side was there. I have a large family; I believe my cousin-count at that point in time was 15. It was a really full, really noisy affair.

I was sitting on the big brown couch in their living room, taking refuge from the hooting and hollering of all the kids that were playing outdoors. My sister Nicole and I were flipping through the channels on my grandparent's TV. I loved watching TV at their house because they had cable - and at 7 years old, cable TV was the holiest of all holy grails. It meant that I could watch Nickelodeon, the Mickey Mouse Club, and an actual movie all in the same day.

However, my happy little moment was quickly interrupted by a large stampede of wild children. They all decided that they wanted to watch TV too, much to my despair. Everyone was clambering for the remote, standing in front of the TV, and just causing a general ruckus.

Brandon followed the crowd in, and shushed them. He was one of the oldest, so they all listened, which impressed me. He sat down next to Nicole, looked at her and said nicely, "What would you like to watch, Coley?" I remember that she just stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, because boys were a foreign alien species to me and my sisters when we were little. Any male relative besides our Dad kind of freaked us out, especially if they had facial hair or were named "Uncle Gary." (Sorry Gary. We like you now!) Brandon was the only older boy cousin that didn't make me run for the hills in terror because his friendly attitude put me at ease.

I thought it was so sweet that he sat there with us, ensured that it was quiet enough for us to hear what was on TV, and tried to decipher what on earth Nicole was saying she wanted to watch. It was especially nice of him, you see, because Nicole had a speech impediment that made her words sound like a jumble of little nasal duck quacks.(Sorry Nicole. It was cute, I promise!) We finally settled on one of the movies in the Batman Forever franchise. He watched the whole movie with us and continued to shush the other kids if they got noisy. That little event left a big impression on my seven year old self, and I remember thinking how positively cool he was.

We will miss you, Brandon.