if teaching doesn't work out...

i have a few other ideas for what i will do with my future if being a high school english teacher isn't the dream that i am convinced it will be.  always have to have a backup, ya hear?


1. estate saler {sailor?}
saturday, around ten o'clock in the morning, my obsession was discovered.  my grandma, the classy gwood, let sister and i join her in her weekly estate sale hunt, or "estating" as i shall refer to it from now on.  we hit the hot spots and got chummy with the regulars.  gwood told us all of the ins and outs of estating, even told us how she wants her estate sale to be run {save up friends, that one will blow your mind...i guarantee it}.  she kept bargaining with this lady that was in charge of the whole shabang.  running an estate sale...yeah...i'd do it.

2.  movie trailer maker {trailor?}

getting paid to watch movies before everyone else and picking out the best parts to sum up a movie in 2 minutes is my kind of lifestyle.  and you can bet your bottom dollar that my trailers would be a visual splendor like this is but actually tell a little story...i may have given up on my english career but i will always love a good story, i can promise you that.

3.  foley artist.

there is no real sound in movies.  did you know that?  mind blowing.  so who puts that sound in?  foley.  so was it really brad pitt's shoes making that walking sound on the floor of the mgm grand casino in ocean's 11?  nope...foley.  i can make fake sounds for movies.  sure.

4.  old folks home party planner.

so my other grandma {not the estating grandma} lives in the classiest of retirement centers.  there is a bird cage and a breakfast buffet, a whiteboard of activities and group trips to harmons.  so cute.  i always look at the party whiteboard to see what the oldies are up to.  social time with lowell sounds fun.  early morning power yoga is something that i would attend even now i think.  and the movie nights...the best.  if i could devote myself to all day everyday teenage angst then i can handle partying with the oldies.  love them.

5.  karmin.

i would give anything to be her.  a pinup looking white rapper...yeah i wish.

don't mess with me high school kids...i got a back up.

lehgo.

goodbye to the jbc

preface:  there is nothing that i hate more in this world than throwing up.  the hate is so intense that i would rather be bed ridden for weeks then make that wretched march from my bed to the toilet.  i always have been that way, and i am pretty positive that i will stay that way until i am in heaven, where i am sure vomit doesn't exist. 

it was a wednesday.  i had gone to my first day of the sememster that will forever live in infamy as a straight A semester.  uvu might even consider giving me my diploma early and ask me to take president holland's spot if i acheive the goals i have humbly set for myself.  everything was great.  all things go.  i returned to my beloved glenwood family for the first time in weeks.  we laughed, told stories, filled each other in on all the hot gossip, and drooled over how "indie" we had gotten over the break.  we had our christmas in january party at the classiest, BYU friendly "dry bar" on this side of the point of the mountain.  we met up with the latest edition of my newest loves, james, maybe we will discuss him further on a later date.  and dined at the fine establishment of Wendy's where i went ahead and ordered a dollar menu favorite to eat while getting to know james.  i was even in bed by my new bed time.

hours had passed and i barely blinked.  instead i laid there in silence.  no fatigue in sight.  i was burning up and completly out of no where it hit me, like that cruel school bus that took out regina george on mean girls.  before i knew it i was pleading for mercy while hugging the toilet in my student housing, 3 girl bathroom. it was the first time i had:  a) thrown up a hamburger and b) thrown up without my mama holding my hair while rubbing my back and doing an awesome job baby-ing me. and that moment right there, as my neck veins about popped open and my throat pleaded my stomach to calm the heck down, was the most grown up feeling in my entire life.  i am an adult now.  good thing, since i have 31 days left of my teenage years.

winner:  my gag reflexes.
loser:  my anti vomit marathon.  last hurl:  december 26th, 2008-lunch time, outside a window looking in on iggy's at jordan landing.  january 7th, 2011-around 4am, will never look at a junior bacon cheeseburger the same ever again.  possibly a good thing butonly time will tell.

when i can say "i'm not a woman, i'm a mom!"

note to self,
when impregnated with what will be the cutest nugget of joy that the world will ever see, please remember to...
a} make a baby library baby shower.  so wise.  so rockstar.
b} make a mobile of math formulas and the quadratic equation...advice that my math teacher gave the class yesterday.
c} always make your baby wear hats and glasses and other accessories so they will learn to love them early...advice from ben, some kind of self proclaimed baby expert.
d} pretend you are still a teenager and be on teen mom because e! news taught me last night that those mamas make bank.
e} never ever ever take pregnancy photos or paint the baby bump. it's never okay.  never!  don't do it.  trust me, the baby will be so much cuter when it is outside of my belly.  until then, keep her covered.  please.

you aren't what you eat, you are what you read.

therefore i want to spend christmas break reading...

the uglies. {anthropologists are calling this one amazing little read.}

crime and punishment.  {because i never have.}

palo alto. {to make my new obsesh complete.}

true grit. {since mom and dad can't stop talking about it.}

but in all reality, i'll probably end up reading...

this.  like i do every year.

but at least i'll think about reading the classics and new faves

like all good future ms. parrishes {my killer high school english teacher who rocked my world and is a big reason behind my changing of my major to english...} should at least think about.

p.s. happy weekend.  i have a small feeling it will be a really really good one coming our way.

one of the first things i want to do when i am in heaven...

...is this.

p.s.  i will be making my most anticipated trip to the slc airport in 120 days from today.



today, you inspired me.

today

deseret industries

you inspired me.

i dream of becoming the kind of person who has really awesome stuff.  the kind of person who gets the question, "where on earth did you get that?" a lot and answers by saying "oh i got it at d.i."  that is my dream.  i want to be a fixer upper.  so, d.i., here i come.  i want to find things at d.i., fix them up or enhance their coolness and tell people how i spent $3 on something so beautiful.  those things:  an old school trunk that i will full with awesomeness, a typewriter {check}, a desk chair {check!}, a desk, a bike, and a suitcase. 
i checked one item off my list weekend.  a chair.
and she is beautiful.
and i love her.
and i can't wait to put my award winning pockets on her and study for finals.  {wait...did i just say i can't wait to study for finals...gross.}

my $4 treasure.  thank you d.i.

i love you both.

when i die.

so i know this thought is a tad morbid and maybe not "blog kosher" but i need to have it on record so my future spawn will know how i want to be remembered once i pass on. 

{thank you mr and mrs beesley for letting me borrow your headstone.}

this is what i want my headstone to look like.

it's just a slab of granite

{i like to pretend it is leftovers from the salt lake temple but i know i am mistaken}

with cool font

a great quote from my favorite man

and the best part is the emblem at the top.

for anyone familiar with the salt lake temple

and has enough super vision to see what it is

will recognize it.

it is the doorknob to the salt lake temple.

and it is so great.

so future mr. paige,

i ask you:

is it okay if our mortal bodies lay under this

once we pass on

and spend eternity together?

i hope so.

because i have already decided.

p.s. happy memorial day...yesterday.

note to self.

self,

please remember to add

"own a wicked awesome bookstore"

to your list of things

to do before you die.

love you,

paige.

women 101

{if only computers were scratch and smell.  

that way you could smell mama's scent:  

chanel no. 5.  very classy.}

every woman needs a signature scent like every man needs a suit.  don't consider yourself a true woman without one.  that being said, i am not a true woman yet.  i am in search for my signature scent.  i need to have a certain smell.  a smell my grandchildren can say "that smells like my grandma" about.  it has to be just right.  i am eighteen so i can't smell like a grandma and signature scents last forever so when i am a grandma i can't smell like a teenager.  it a very complicated process so my word to the wise, begin your search today.  smell like a real woman.