Sometimes...

... I wish I was a ginger.

... I spend all day in leggings and one of my little brother's sweatshirts. And I love it.

... I car dance SO well that I distract the car next to me and they forget to drive. I'm always proud of myself for that.

... when I'm grouchy, I watch One Direction videos on YouTube and I remember that there's no point being grouchy in a world where Louis Tomlison and his ridiculous jokes are just one click away.

... I love Lee Pace even though he was in the new Twilight movie.

... I still get the plague even though I had my tonsils yanked.

... my internet goes all wonky and even spending an hour on the phone with Corey Shaw doesn't fix it.

... international students say the absolute best stuff in their emails, such as "I wish I could be the lucky dog." I always laugh.

... even though I love my job, I wish I had one that I could wear comfy clothes to instead of fancy pants clothes all the time.

... I get unreasonably excited when I find other Doctor Who fans who will talk about my love for David Tennant with me. As in I jump up and down and clap my hands. I always judge myself just a little for this.

... I realize that I'm going to miss my DVR when I move.

... I wish that I was British.

... I worry entirely too  much.

... popcorn and frozen Junior Mints fix everything.

... watching Pretty Little Liars makes me want to scream yet I can't turn it off.

... I read the same book over and over even though I know exactly what is going to happen.

Wherein you learn that I go for the nerd...

Dearest readers, I learned a few important things tonight that I feel need to be shared post haste on the interwebs.

A) NEVER under any circumstances, no matter how tired one might be are, should anyone drink a large Diet Coke during a James Bond movie. You will spend the entirety of said flick doing your best not to pee just a little every time a gun shot goes off. And if you haven't been to a Bond film recently, let me clue you in: that happens a whole darn lot. (Maybe this is more specific to me as the caffeine made me a touch jumpy as well).

2) Daniel Craig has the ability to make just about anything look hot. I'm not even exaggerating (which I will now admit that I am prone to do in most cases). Whether he's trying to live the life of a drunken beach bum or is walking into a mob run casino in a perfectly tailored tux to seduce a... erm, lady of the night, the man does it with class and sheer perfection. It's why he's my favorite Bond (SHHH! Don't tell Sean Connery. He held the top spot until just recently).

III) Even when the above mentioned perfection is clamoring for my attention, I will still go for the nerd.

Allow me to explain for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of feasting your eyes on Mr. Craig's baby blues in the most recent installation of the International Man of Mystery's story; you finally get to meet Q, who has morphed into the perfect blend of hipster and tech nerd. And I think that I might be a little bit in love with him. (Hint: Hold the little).

I loved everything from his heavy framed glasses (I have a similar pair in the bathroom at home) to his messy hair to his cardigans to his skinny tie. I thoroughly enjoyed his snarky banter with Bond and the fact that he's wicked smart. While Bond maybe hot... oh let's be honest, we're all friends here: there's no maybe about it. Bond is smokin'.  So, while Bond is hot in every sense of the word, Q is wonderfully quirky and just dorky enough to appeal to a total nerd girl like me. Don't misunderstand me: nerd does not mean lack of social skills or an extreme dislike of sports. I have learned through painful trial and error (read: loads of awkward blind dates) that I couldn't ever spend a ridiculous amount of time around a guy who hates sports. It's just not a thing in my world (speaking of: GO UTES! Way to finally win a game. Now back to our regularly scheduled ranting). But I most definitely appreciate a nerd. And that, my darling readers, is what Q is. Total and complete geek chic.

Why, may I ask you, do men like this only exist in fictional worlds?

This is not a political post...

This is a Hobbit post. You read that right.

This is a post celebrating the goodness that is J.R.R. Tolkien and his brilliance.

It's an epic moment.

I just purchased tickets to see The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

What?! You didn't know about my Lord of the Rings obsession? You must have failed the quiz to be my friend. I'm sorry for you.

You can redeem yourself by watching the video below.

Richard Armitage as Thorn Oakenshield? Martin Freeman as Bilbo? 

I grew up watching the animated version over and over. And I can tell you that in this moment, I am thrilled. THRILLED I tell you!

So, friends. 

Put aside your differences and join me in celebrating the brilliance of The Hobbit. 

Everything I need to know in life I learned from watching Doctor Who...

It is a truth  universally acknowledged that a man in possession of  a blue box must be in want of a companion...

Everything I Need to Know in Life, I Learned from Watching Doctor Who:

- It's never too late to start over.

-If you're on your way to a gay, gypsy bat mitzvah for the disabled and you suddenly get a random thought? Follow through on it. The Third Reich really is rubbish and killing Hitler is a brilliant idea.

-When in doubt, put on your brainy specs. They'll help.

-The smallest, most insignificant moment can change the fate of the universe.

-Turn left.

-Always be yourself.

-Bananas are good, pears are nasty, and apples are rubbish.

-Waiting is worth it in the end.

-Don't trust mannequins, anything dressed as Father Christmas, or any type of Christmas decoration.

-Bowties are cool.

-Sometimes? Everybody lives.

-The Doctor lies.

-It's often the most ordinary looking people who make the biggest difference.

-Time is NOT the boss of you.

-Don't blink. Don't even think about it.

-Shakespeare was a flirt.

-Spending Christmas in London is a surefire way to meet the Doctor.

-A mop and a fez complete any outfit.

-Be excited about your fingers.

-Feel like everyone is staring at your back? Yeah, there's probably a time vortex there.

-Extermination is never the answer.

-Love is always more powerful than hate.

-Dying and turning into a Roman is VERY distracting.

-Good men don't need rules.

-Nothing can last forever.

-Spoilers are everywhere. Just look for them.

-Things are rarely what they seem.

-We don't understand babies because we're just not listening the right way.

-The universe is big. And vast and complicated and ridiculous. And sometimes, very rarely, impossible things can happen and we call them miracles.

-You have control over who you will be.

-Keeping a journal will come in handy.

-Memory is more powerful than we know.

-When you disagree with the manual, throw it into a supernova.

-The universe is made of tiny stories.

-Time is not a straight line, it's a ball of wibbley wobbley timey wimey.

-There's loads of boring stuff. Like Sundays and Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons. But now and then there are Saturdays. Big temporal tipping points when anything's possible.

-Don't trust anyone who brings you coffee just to be nice. 

-They might shoot you, but you still have the moral high ground.

-If you wake up with a bunch of tick marks on your arm, and you can't remember what just happened? RUN. It means the Silence is near.

-Books are the greatest weapons in the world.

-Even when you try your hardest, sometimes you fail. You just have to dust off your trainers, straighten your bowtie and move on.

-Speaking of trainers, they go nicely with a pinstripe suit.

-Don't be afraid to try something ridiculous such as fish fingers and custard. It might be exactly what you're looking for.

-If you're going to die, do it looking like a Peruvian folk band.

-The Rotmeister isn't the greatest nickname.

-When in doubt, make up a word.

-Patience is for wimps.

-Being normal is overrated.

-Be sure your wedding dress has pockets. And that you always carry your cell phone.

-If you look hard enough, there are more wonders in the world than you could have ever dreamed of.

Turns out?

I don't deal so well with change. Especially big ones. Like Squeegee going on a mission. Yes. I know she's going to be the greatest missionary ever. Yes, I know that in 18 months she's going to come home and that she's not dead or anything. Yes, I know that missions are totally awesome and that missionaries make the world a better place. But all of this knowledge didn't stop me from crying like a baby when I said goodbye today. Or all the way home. Or while I was sitting at my desk at work. Or any time anyone asked me how it went. Let's be honest. My eyes are a little raw now and I've got quite the headache. Erin promised me that it gets better and she's too sweet and wonderful to lie to me, so I'll take her word for it.

I'm now accepting donations to my mental health and stability for the next year and a half.

(Was all that dramatic enough for you? I promise, I'm doing much better than it seems though all the stuff about crying it true).

Yup, I'm THAT girl...

The above statement could apply to a myriad of things. Today these include but are not limited to:

-The girl who started a new job

-The girl who watched about 80 episodes of Friends this weekend during the Nick @ Nite marathon (Team Chandler, all the way)

-The girl who's little sister gave the most incredible farewell talk yesterday

-The girl who met the REAL Luna Lovegood tonight at IHOP in Centerville (you think I'm exaggerating? Not this time).

-The girl that most definitely did not sleep long enough this weekend

-The girl who made stellar cinnamon rolls for her little sister's farewell breakfast (I'm seriously fantastic. You should bribe me to make them sometime. If you're a cute boy, you just have to smile pretty and ask me out and I'll make them)

None of these things are actually what I was thinking about when I wrote the title of this post. 

Let me set the stage. 

Tonight Sara the Theatre Fairy, the Fantastic Charisse, and I made the trek up to Centerville to see "Little Women". A night of theatre combined with hanging out with two of my favorite people? Thank you, Monday. I'll take that. Anyway, back to the point. As with any show, there were some fairly attractive young gentlemen whom I was given the pleasurable task of watching on stage for a few hours. You wanna know what else didn't hurt? They were required to sing. I KNOW. Do you see that puddle on the floor at Centerpoint? Yeah. That's me. I'm writing this using a combination of telepathy and a sonic screwdriver that I borrowed from The Doctor. (Partially because I bawled my eyes out when Beth died. We all forgot tissues and I've never been more grateful for the fact that I wore a black long sleeved t-shirt). Pretty boys who sing? Yes, please. Another benefit of having completely awesomely, fantastical friends? They know EVERYONE. Including darling boys who's voices make my head involuntarily to one side. After the show, we're very casually hanging out in the lobby, just far enough away from the cast so as not to appear creepy (coughSuperfancough) but close enough so that said cute boys could see my big deal friends. That's what happens when you're short and not a theatre person. No one sees you. This is why you have tall friends. Anyway, I'm rambling again. You're reading this and wondering when I'm going to get to the point, aren't you? As well you should be. The point is this: I'm still THAT girl. The one who has a hard time putting together completely sentences when there's a moderately attractive guy around. What happened is this: Fantastic Charisse brings Super Cute Guy  over to talk to our completely awesome little group and instead of answering the question asked me by another friend ("Where do you work?") with the appropriate answer ("The grad admissions office at the business school at the U") it came out more like "Blergity blah mah shshshshshsh" and Sara the Theatre Fairy had to save me by providing the actual answer. She assures me that I didn't sound that ridiculous, but she wasn't in my head and it was all pretty much mush. Mostly because I could hear Fantastic Charisse whispering things about me to Super Cute Boy ("She works for the U business school and she's getting ready to start her masters in history") while he's kinda trying to break into the conversation. So yes. I'm still that girl who is twelve on the inside and can't form a coherent thought around anyone who has all the cookies.

If all else fails, at least I'm entertaining.

And they say I can't act.   

From the ridiculous to the sublime...

I'm a planner.
I like lists.
I like timelines.
I like back-up plans.
I like to be able to check things off and know that I'm done.

When I was in high school, I created a life plan. And part of this life plan (as absolutely silly and ridiculous as this might seem now) included purchasing all of my clothes from Banana Republic. Vain? Maybe. But it was a goal all the same.

Something else you need to know? I got a new job today. Yup. It's true. Who has two thumbs and is the newest member of the graduate admissions staff? This girl. This job is fancy. And I am... well, blessed doesn't seem to be a strong enough word. This opportunity had absolutely nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact that I have a loving, wonderful and completely gracious Father in Heaven who surrounded me with incredible friends that think far better things of me than I deserve.

One of the best parts about this fantastic job (the promotion from "administrative assistant" to "program coordinator" aside)? A raise. It's completely tacky to say how much, but I will tell you this: it's enough that I can cross my Banana Republic goal off my list. And I have solid proof that this goal was not as lame as it may originally seem. I will now recount the story for your reading pleasure.

(clears throat and announces the following in a dramatic tone)

SOLID PROOF OF THE VALIDITY OF MY BANANA REPUBLIC GOAL:

Last Friday evening, Sarah the Theatre Fairy and I took City Creek by storm to do a little 'light' shopping because a) I finally got my tax return (long story) and 2) I had a job interview on Monday afternoon. We made our way into Banana Republic (which I swear was glowing just a little, proving that it's as magical as I've always thought) where we were greeted by a completely lovely sales girl who immediately started pulling out the most beautiful clothes for me to try on. In the middle of all the gorgeous madness, Sarah found the Perfect Dress. Everything about this dress was amazing. As soon as I zipped it up, I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus playing. I looked taller, my skin was clearer, my hair was brighter...You name it, this dress did it. My fairy godmother herself couldn't have whipped up anything better with her magic wand than this dress. Then Sara found a 40% coupon online. Long story short? I left Banana with the dress and a few other things, as well as a lovely Banana credit card which has been put to good use over the last week. I walked into Aldo and found the Perfect Shoes to go with the Perfect Dress. They were the last pair, on sale, in my size. Thank you, Shopping Gods.

  Fast forward to Monday morning and me walking into work. The dress was a hit. The interview was perfect. And now I have myself a fancy new job, all thanks to a fantastic friend, a whole lot of inspiration, and the Perfect Dress. Tonight I went back in...just because I have a discount now and why not? The same girl who helped me last week was working, and not only did she remember me, but she was thrilled that I got my job. If you ever need a self-esteem boost, visit the BR at City Creek. Those girls could make you feel great if you looked like death warmed over.

So my friends. What is the point of this post? Simple: No matter how silly the goal, it feels fab to cross it off the list.