11 days and counting...

This Christmas break I am going to...

do nothing. And it's going to be so great. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing that requires my brain to actually be used. In fact, I'll just put my brain on standby mode for two weeks while I eat cookies, wrap presents, watch movies, eat cookies, sit in the hot tub and watch movies. And many times I will sleep. And it will be heavenly.

Guys, I have been hardened. Some things in my life, especially some things that have happened recently, have hardened me. I'm the grinch. I'm Scrooge. I am Harry and Marv. I am Mr. Potter. Alright, I am not in that bad of a mood, but I have noticed a difference in myself and I don't like it. So today I made some resolutions. Not New Years resolutions like, "I will exercise every day and look like that Jillian chick from Biggest Loser at the end of the year" blah blah blah, just resolutions. And I intend on keeping them. Especially because they are really important things that I need to work on, and even change about myself. I know that when I am with my family in Vegas it will be that much easier to make changes and work on things, because I will be surrounded by people that I love and that make me so happy. Can't wait.

So why is it that when I think of good Christmas memories I think of me and Laura and Seth running around the coffee table with Manheim Steamroller blasting and Ann sitting on the couch putting her legs up on the coffee table so that we would trip? For some reason I loved that as a little kid, even though it had danger written all over it. I love that music and I love my family so I am bound to enjoy any activity that involves both of those.

So yesterday I ran some errands with Sarah and the kids. While I was in the car with the kids I asked them if they knew how old I was. Weslie said,

"umm..........................39?"

Doh!

Hopefully I don't look that old.

The Little Audrey that Could

Keep going. Keep going. I can do this. I'm almost there. In five days I'll be here:

New York City, baby!

And then here! (Connect-i-cut)

And then possibly Boston!

Ain't it great becoming completely broke all because you treated yourself to something awesome? Yeah, it is. And you know what? I deserve this! So I don't feel guilty spending the money to fly myself out there ONE BIT. Especially when this is how I have felt lately:

So hopefully I'll come back looking a little more sane. Yeah...that'd be good.

More Autobiography

First, I just want to say that Halloween is over, which means that

1. My birthday is a few days away (Sunday)! Turning the big 22 y'all.

2. CHRISTMAS IS HERE!

3. Crap that's all I got.

Also, I went to Stanford over the weekend for my rugby tournament. Drove there all day Friday, played in six games on Saturday, and drove home all day Sunday. My coach brought 30 girls from the team and divided us up into two teams because there were two brackets in the tournament, so each team was in a bracket. Well, we both ended up winning our brackets (my team played six games, our other team played five) and had to play each other in the final game, so either way BYU won. It was great. Never been so beat up in my life. Four girls on our team got concussions (I gave one of the girls a concussion when I tackled her in our final game, and one girl shattered her arm and wrist in one of the previous games--a freak accident, really) BUT, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS MY FRIENDS.

Well it has been a while since I have put some of my autobiography up (probably because I haven't written anymore of it) so I thought I would like to put something up.

This is the first draft, and it's for you Charley. I am aware that everyone in the family knows this story, BUT it is always good to write these things down.

I title this one...how about...

"Master"

If you are a Mitchell or at least know us Mitchells, you might know that we all have an unhealthy love for candy. In fact, we'll do some pretty pathetic things to get some mere Starbursts. (This next part is unrelated to the rest of the story, but I think it is funny anyway...) I have these memories of Scotty always having big bags of Starbursts. Thankfully Scotty was pretty generous with his candy and would share the wealth with us younger ones. He would pull out a handful of Starbursts from the back and chuck them in the air. You better believe that we all went diving and scrambling to get as many Starbursts as possible. You also better believe that if we ever had candy and chucked them in the air Scotty was doing the diving right along with us.

Anyway...

Charley would bring girls to the house on dates to watch a movie out on the balcony or out on the trampoline. Beforehand he would corner me or Seth or Laura, but more often all three of us, and use bribery to get us to "serve" him while on his date. He took it a step further and said that we had to call him "Master" when we were serving him. If we did this he agreed to give us CANDY which of course caused immediate agreement to the deal along with excessive hyperness.

So Charley would be out on the balcony and he would say something like, "Hey Audrey, will you go get us some popcorn?" And I had to say "Yes, Master" and would then have to go get him some popcorn and serve it to him and his date. I was the best miniature waitress you ever saw. Charley took full advantage of this and would request orange juice and ice cream and this and that, but then one time he said this to me and Laura, "Hey guys, will you go get us a blanket?"

GULP.

So what's so wrong with a blanket? Well, once again, if you are a Mitchell, or at least know us Mitchells, you will also know that we seemed to live our childhoods on the couches watching tv and movies with the same blankets that were probably never washed, but who cares because they were soft and comfortable and warm. But an unwashed blanket that had probably collected many skin particles, been saturated with b.o. and had just been wrapped around some Mitchell body MANY times might be pretty disgusting. And at least Laura and I were civilized enough to know this. So Laura and I found the most promising blanket we could, which of course had not been washed in a while and did still smell kinda musty and probably had stains all over it. But thank goodness for Laura's preteen interest in lots of very pungent body sprays from Bath and Body Works or where ever those came from. We just took some body spray and sprayed it ALL OVER that blanket. The blanket was practically sopping wet with that stuff, but by golly it did not smell like Mitchell laziness anymore.

So we took it out to Charley and his date, feeling triumphant, but even more importantly, excited about getting our candy.

We still to this day have not gotten any candy. Wonder why.

My Turn

So Laura tagged me in this. Can you actually tag someone on a blog? I still don't know any of the tricks about blogging. Someone teach me someday? Thanks. Anyway, I am supposed to answer these questions:

you just won 1 million dollars. you have to spend it all in one month. no investments allowed. it all has to be gone in one month. what do you buy/do?

EASY. First, I would pack up my belongings and move here:

Then, I would buy this:

Then I would take trips to places like these:

Then I would buy TONS of Christmas decorations...

Then I would hire someone to buy me lots of cute clothes and boots and more shoes. And then I would give the rest of the money to my Aunt Becky's foundation, Foundation for Children in Need.

you are being forced to listen to either EFY music or boy a cappella group music for the rest of your life. which one?

Oh freak. How do I answer this? I hate with a fiery passion both genres. Alright fine. Boy a capella. NSYNC's bound to have some a capella songs right?

if you were famous for something...what would it be for?
Author or athlete.

what did you do to get boys attention in junior high? for example i smeared glitter all over the top of my flat chest before church dances. it didn't work.
Yeah, Laura, you taught me that glitter trick. Remember that little pink bottle of roll-on glitter? I sure do. Probably still have it somewhere.

I liked to put sparkly eyeshadow on so I could bat my eyelashes and probably blind them at the same time because they were so distracted with all the sparkle and glitter. Yikes.

Now what? I tag people? Do I have to come up with questions now? I want these people to answer the same questions:

Charley

Al

Melissa

Lu

The Goose is Getting Fat

So in the last about . . . month and a half there have been a couple of occasions where I got so anxious/excited/taken back/pumped or something to that extent where it upped my heart rate to about a million beats a second and I probably started breathing hard and sweating. Well it happened again tonight. Guess why.

No actually don't. I'll just tell you.

There's already CHRISTMAS decor in Pier 1 Imports!!! (Right now I can picture Allison saying, "Oh boy" to this. Hehehe). I couldn't help but be distracted the whole time I was working there tonight! Psh, I thought the Halloween decorations were good. The smells alone of the new Christmas candles outdo the Halloween stuff. Like Peppermint Creme...mmm heavenly.

Ok. So I wasn't breathing heavy or anything like that, but seriously, I love Christmas and I got really excited when I saw the Christmas stuff. When I was young (actually up until like two years ago) I would always get depressed the SECOND after we were done opening up presents because then I would have to wait a whole year for Christmas to come again. Alright, that still kinda happens. BUT it's not so bad anymore because time FLIES so its always here before I know it.

I have this memory (I'm sure you all remember it well) of Charley waking Seth up like two weeks before Christmas and saying, "Seth! Wake up! It's Christmas!" Seth stumbled downstairs and lo and behold, Charley had stuffed pillows behind the 8 presents that were out so that it looked like the loot was BULGIN. Seth tends to be one of the sleepers in the family and it therefore took him a little while to figure out what was going on, but when he did he was TICKED. So funny, yet so sad. Poor Puppy.

Anyway. Are we exchanging names for presents for Christmas or what? Alright, we don't need to think about that right now. I'll enjoy Halloween and Thanksgiving but you bes' believe I'm startin a countdown. 73...

Speaking of Halloween, I need a good costume. Any suggestions?

Help

My title has two meanings. I finished The Help. Oh here's an idea Kathryn Stockett. END THE BOOK WITH SOME FLIPPIN CLOSURE. The ending was sad to me, but I loved the book nonetheless.

But I also need help. And when I say that I am not really asking for anyone's help (I have a hard time doing that anyway) I am just expressing the stupid position I put myself in. Tomorrow I am supposed to have read Guns, Germs, and Steel and have a 3-4 page paper written on it. So I am not very far into the book. Alright, who I am kidding...I never started it. It's a huge book about agricultural development and industrialization and BORING crap like that in 13,000 B.C. . . .or something like that. You think I am going to read a huge book about that? I don't think so.

But who knows, maybe it's a good book. Has anyone read it? Anyway, my procrastination lives on. It makes life more exciting that way.

So call me a nerd-bomber, ( I give credit of that phrase to DJ on Full House) but apparently in a marriage prep class at BYU students have had to take a test/survey that determines how "ready" he/she is for marriage, or at lease it measures something to that degree. I MUST FIND THAT TEST. Not because I believe that will be even a slightly accurate determiner, I am just curious. There has got to be some truth to it though, right?

So here are my next two reads. I started this one

and am about to buy this one. Yeah baby.

Uhhh...

Yeah I couldn't think of a title that would work for this blog post.

Not sure why I came to my Geography of the Middle East class. We are just watching a movie--well, the rest of the class is watching a movie and I am writing this blog post. I am seriously impressed with people who can write interesting blog posts on a regular basis. I struggle to write one once a month, and most of the time they aren't even interesting. Some interesting things have happened though.

I got rear ended on Saturday. Got some serious whiplash. My sunglasses went flying from my face when I got hit. Good thing I was wearing a seatbelt.

I realized that I am ambidextrous. For example, when I am at work in the mail room, I sort with my left land. I do this thing with my rugby ball where I toss it up in the air and spin it and I always do it left handed. When I play soccer, I prefer to play left defense, because I have more control of the ball. When I play cards I deal left handed. But in everything else I am right handed. Be jealous, y'all. Alright it's not that cool, but I feel slightly cooler for being able to say that I am ambidextrous.

On January 30, 2011 I am assuming I will not be married. In fact, I know I won't. On that day I will have passed the date of being the person in the family to get married the youngest. Not sure why I thought of that.

For the first time in my life, I am desperately trying to find a book to read. I like to read now! Today I saw Team of Rivals on tape in the BYU Bookstore and I was so pumped until I saw that it was 40 BONES which means I can't afford it right now. BUT I have The Glass Castle on special order right now so I am excited to read that. But I need some good suggestions of books to read.

Well that's all. Wow, that is PATHETIC that those are the most interesting things I could think of. I did it for the sake of putting up a new post though, so don't hate.

Peace.

Change

I have had quite a few changes in my life recently.

First off, you know when someone asks you if you want to go out and do something with some people, and it sounds lame so you make up some pitiful excuse not to go? Well, life's great right now because I don't have to do that. 90% of the time I really can't go and do that lame thing with them. The reason I bring this up is because some guys that are probably in my ward (I wouldn't really know) just knocked on my door and said "Hey so uh we're getting a big group of people together to go bowling--you want to come?" (As I was writing that sentence I was saying it in a macho, beef cake man sort of way, even though they didn't say it that way).

First of all . . .

1. Bowling? Come on.

2. I have this class called ECON 110 that is pulling me along by a string.

3. I just got back from rugby and reek of sweat, dirty mouthguard, and grass. Fat chance.

So that is one of the changes in my life. I am really busy. It has its perks, but man do I miss being lazy.

Another change is that I am a bottomless pit. I don't get full. You would think that I would be puttin on the pounds left and right, but I am pretty sure that I am the same weight that I usually am. All my clothes still fit the same. I am convinced that me getting sick in Haiti is what I suspected all along; a sick nasty tape worm. Bet I still have it. Livin in my intestines. Eatin all my grub. Dude that's just SICK.

Thirdly, my night-owl days are over. Getting up at six for work at seven Monday through Friday BITES big time. But I gotta do it. Which means going to bed no later than 11. And you know I'm hatin myself every morning for even going to bed that late.

I actually wish I had time to read. No, no not my stupid textbooks; real books. Books that make me happy. Books that keep me sane. Before I know it I'll be calling that insane asylum up the street my home with all this textbook reading. I just want to finish The Help dang it! Last time I read I was getting to the good stuff, too!

So this last change isn't a change in my life, but a change in attitude of many people. Why the crap am I feelin all sorts of judged when people ask if I want to go on a mission and I say, "no."? Well FORGET YOU if you are going to judge me for not going on a mission. I don't want to. Nothing wrong with that. That says nothing about my testimony or of my relationship with Christ. I want to go to school and live my life here in Provo for the next couple of years. Sue me. Really though, the number of sister missionaries is skyrocketing it seems like. I can honestly say that I am sure some girls are feeling pressured to do it. It's great for girls who have gone and loved it and for girls who are excited to go on a mission because they WANT to. Power to them. But I am shocked that there is a pressure creeping up. Don't worry, I'm not feeling that pressure. I'm just noticing a difference in people's attitudes about girls going on missions.

Well, that's all for now. Maybe I should actually do econ so that I don't feel like a liar to those dudes that showed up on my front doorstep. I had to do something to keep me sane, so I feel justified in writing a blog post.

Oh yeah! One more thing. Guys, I have always loved Halloween. So let me enjoy a good month and a half of having a Halloween themed blog background thing.

Alright, Peace.

Post Haiti, Pre Hell

Starting tomorrow, I am homeless. No worries, I've done this before. I'll find a place to live. And yet here I am, blogging. Well anyway...

My trip to Haiti was incredible. I don't even want to explain everything, because a) I won't do it justice AT ALL, and b) it would take a long time and I know how boring that can be to people. So, I'll give some highlights in no specific order.

1. Lesly's (sp?) orphanage. Those kids are so dang cute and happy.

2. The crazy rain/thunder/lightning storm on the first night we were there.

3. Riding around everywhere in the back of the truck.

4. Bony, Michelet, Jimmy, and Patrick.

5. Painting the orphans' faces/hands/arms.

6. Our incredible group of volunteers. All great people.

7. All the kids in general.

So before I left for Haiti I was in a funk. A BAD funk. And I'll admit, I am still pulling myself out of the last bit of funk. I have been starting to realize lately how awesome it is to be free. Especially when I am single and can do anything I want to. And so that is why I will be sure to go to New York sometime (hopefully when John and Laura live there) and I will move into some new place by myself, and HOPEFULLY (I am praying hard for this one) I will be able to come up with the funds to go to JERUSALEM, yo! Next fall for a study abroad, that is. And that is IF I get accepted. And I can study whatever I want to in school, and I can spend time with whomever I want--you get the idea. Anyway, I am starting to realize that I should forget my trials because right now is the best time for me to do what I want with no other big commitments tying me down--of course while still trying to be the best person that I can be. That knowledge cheers me up. Also, God is really looking out for me right now, so that is another reason why life is good right now.

So I write all of this because I came to another realization, and that is that starting on Monday, August 30, 2010, my life will be insane. Two jobs, school full time, rugby. GULP. So if I write another post in the near future about me being a stress ball or some sort of mental/emotional train wreck, someone refer me to this post so I can remember the positives. Thanks.

That's all folks!

Haiti

So Mom picked me up from the airport tonight and the first thing she said when I got in the car was:

"We're going to Haitiiiiiiiii!" Nothing like, "Oh Audrey, I am so glad that my favorite child has come home" or anything like that.

I am so glad that I get to experience this trip to Haiti with my mom. I'll tell about my experience when I get back.

For those of you who did not know that I am going to Haiti tomorrow, don't feel bad. I didn't know either--until this morning.

My first time out of the country will be quite the experience.

This picture has nothing to do with Haiti, but I love it anyway.

Flames--on the side of my face, heathing, br...breathing

Ok so the title of this blog comes from a line found in the movie Clue. But that is how I feel right now--like flames are coming out of me--like I want to chuck my phone at the wall or go and smash bottles on the ground or just go and break everything that is breakable. Don't worry, I'm not a lunatic. These feelings are fleeting...I think.

Well first of all, I just want to say that I am glad that I have a grand total of what...6 people who actually read my blog? You know why? Because I can be real. I don't try and pretend that my life is some stupid fairytail and I don't have the goal of having 100+ comments on my posts. I don't need that and I don't want that. I want to be real with the people that I trust enough to read my blog.

Anyway, back to what I was saying before. For the past 2+ weeks now I've been having a hard time about some things. I feel as if I am being tortured at times. I was talking to my mom on the phone about this, feeling very sorry for myself and you know what she told me? "Audrey, you need to find people to serve."

I tell you, that is THE FREAKING LAST THING I WANT TO HEAR. I don't want to go and serve anyone. Why doesn't someone serve me? These were my literal thoughts when she said that. It made me want to chuck my phone as far as I could. And then she said, "You just need to be patient." Oooh and that is when the flames on the side of my face came. Steam was coming out of every pore on my body. What do you think I have been doing for the past 3 months?

It is hard for me to be patient for a specific reason. All growing up I had never been around someone outside of my family that I felt like I could be myself with. And consequently I lacked friends because I felt like I couldn't show myself to people. And all growing up my parents told me (very lovingly and full of hope) to "be patient"-- that I would find someone soon. They told me that for YEARS and years.

That's why I want to curse the world when someone tells me to be patient. Because I think, "For how long? Ten years?"

I don't think so.

But as I sit here and write this, my mom's words are being echoed in my head because I know she is right. She also said that Christ was persecuted and spit on and cursed and eventually crucified. But regardless, what was he doing the entire time? Serving. He never stopped. And he had patience with everyone.

So yes, serving someone may be the last thing I want to do right now, but I need to do it anyway. And I need to keep being patient (not about the whole friend thing--I have come to terms with the fact that I don't really need a best friend outside of my family. My family fulfills that for me, and so will my husband when I get married). Telling myself to be patient is enough pain in itself, but once again, my mom is right. Patience shows faith, and apparently I have none right now.

So--I promise--I will work on that.

More

Whenever I was invited to go to some girl’s birthday party, I would ritualistically go to the store (most often Target) with my mom and we would get what seemed like the best present anyone could ever dream of, a caboodle complete with all things miniature. A mini hair brush, miniature toothpaste and a miniature toothbrush, miniature makeup, a mini mirror, a Mini Cooper, a miniature poodle—you know, all the best things in the world. The process of buying all these gems and putting them all perfectly in the several compartments within the pink, sparkly caboodle was enough to cause me to keel over from excitement. I practically had a heart attack every time I got to experience this sort of occasion. You would think I would have tried to make more friends with girls just so that I would be invited to their birthday parties. My brain hadn’t yet reached such cleverness, though.

And speaking of rituals and birthday parties, my mom and I went through another ritual that I thought was pure genius right before I left for the birthday party. She would tell me to sometime during the party call her to “check in” with her. She would then say quietly, “Audrey, do you want me to come and get you?” If I said no, that meant I was having a good time and wanted to stay for the remainder of the party. If I said yes, that meant (obviously) that I wanted to get the crap out of there. The fact that that was even an issue still causes me to wonder to this day. It wasn’t unusual for me to respond, “YES.”

And speaking even furthermore on rituals and birthday parties, my mom 99% of the time would not allow me to sleep over at a sleepover. She would always come and get me late at night right before everyone went to bed. Sometimes it was maddening. But now I look back and realize that her reasoning for not wanting me to sleep over makes perfect sense. With all those sickos out there, my children will most likely not sleep over at sleepovers either.

He's Gone

I just have the best family in the world. Look at all of us! We're so cool! I had a blast in Las Vegas with my entire immediate family and some extended (Charlie, Karli, and Deb). As you can see we rented this massive blow-up slide that went into our pool. Charley alone went down the slide at least 120 times, which means that altogether it was used about 8,254,796,341 times. Those little kids did not give themselves a break. They were in the pool from sun up to sun down--and so was I.

We also watched movies and tv (I'm hooked on the Bachelorette--sue me), ate great food (Mom, if I can cook anything like you I am in good shape), took pictures, were with Seth when he got set apart, played some Balderdash and Boggle, gave advice to Seth and Charlie for their missions, etc. It was fun and I did not want to leave.

And then we had to take Seth into the MTC. Can I just say THANK GOODNESS they don't have that whole long process where you have to watch the movie and the whole emotional "oh crap my son/brother is leaving me for two years and I can't even see him" feeling is drawn out for what seems to be like hours. All you do now is get out of the car, hug them goodbye and you watch them walk through the doors. BUT even though it all lasted about 3 minutes I still cried. What a comfort it was to see Seth and Charlie walk in together though. That was cool.

Family, I miss you. I can't wait to see you all again. Love you guys.

Kittens

Kittens

When I was seven I had a cat named Kitty. Real original, I know. She was always kind of a sickly cat and she took to peeing on our stair landing. Strangely, other cats we owned after Kitty followed in her footsteps. My mom was ready to kill those cats. Anyway, one day when my family and I came home from our painfully long three hour church service, I saw Kitty come out of a closet under the stairs looking a whole lot skinnier than she usually did. Either she had coughed up a couple hundred hairballs or, which my mom suggested, she had been pregnant and had given birth. A normal family would have opened the closet door to discover the kittens, but my siblings didn’t believe in cleaning (except for you, Ann!) and this closet had stuff piled up about eight feet high. And this closet is big. When it is actually cleaned out you can walk around in it. So we started unloading all of the who knows what crap was in there (probably old shoes, deflated soccer and basketballs and camping gear). Finally, there they were in the very back of the closet. Five tiny little kittens all huddled up together. Kitty laid down next to them.

Those kittens were maddeningly cute and I was glued to them for the next six weeks. I started naming them. One was black with a white spot on his chin. I named him Smokey. One always seemed to be eating and was consequently fat—Puff Mama. She had grey fur that was longer than all of the other kittens’. One was white so naturally I had to name him Whitey Tighty. Then there was Feisty (probably named after myself) who was dark grey and liked to pick fights with the other kittens. And then the last one. Light grey, affectionate and sweet. I never did think of a name for that kitten that stuck. Seth suggested Sweetie, which disgusted me. And my younger brother Seth, who was addicted to toy weapons and sword fighting and sports and all things little boy-like had suggested the name Sweetie?! It blew my mind.

My mom warned me that after six weeks I would have to give the kittens away. I dreaded this more than I dreaded the dentist. We went to the Smith’s grocery store and I sat out in front of the store with all five kittens in a cardboard box. One by one they slowly disappeared. The kittens KNEW what was happening—they whimpered as the litter dwindled in size. And I whimpered right along with them. Then a biker dude came up--he was probably 9 feet tall and 500 lbs. A Goliath man, really. He had a bandana on over his bald head, and wore a black shirt with a black vest, black pants and black boots. He had to have been the leader of some Harley Davidson club. He took one of the kittens and said to his nasty little sidekick, “This will keep the Doberman company.” And then he laughed a sinister laugh. A Doberman?! Those spawn of Satan dogs that always have spiked collars and eight inch long canine teeth?! Evil thoughts raced through my head as he walked away with one of my kitties. I wanted to run him over with his own Harley. When all the kittens had new owners I was completely traumatized and swore I would get every cat I owned thenceforth spayed or neutered.

Here's more

Pink Jumper

In first grade I liked a boy named Spencer Wanlass. One day I hit the jackpot when I found out that my older sister Laura was friends with his older sister DeAnne. So naturally when Laura invited DeAnne over I would invite Spencer over too. Well one day exactly that happened. My actions showed that there was some sign of a girl inside of me—I wanted to look pretty for him. I curled all 45 hairs on my head and put on a little pink jumper that came just above my bruised knees. It was like I was anticipating Christmas—it was THAT exciting. The doorbell rang. Laura opened the door and there was DeAnne! And no Spencer. I was completely crushed. After not seeing Spencer again after first grade until twelve years later I learned from Spencer himself that he was too scared to come over. Spencer and I ended up dating for ten months during our freshman year of college.

Feisty

I’m proud to say that when I was three years old I discovered the art of feistiness. When I was in the hospital at age four with a shattered femur, my granny came to visit my body casted self. I laid there in the hospital bed SURROUNDED with stuffed animals and other various toys. People pitied me. It was great. Anyway, when Granny came she brought another toy for me. Some sort of toy that rattled. My response was, “What am I? A baby?” You think being in a body cast in the hospital would have humbled me. Apparently not. I blame that on my age at the time.

It seems as though Granny remembers my feisty attitude the best—probably because I picked up that gem of a trait from her. She reminds me frequently that it was common for me to tell people to get a life. She also reminds me that I would tell her that she had cracks in her face. I guess I was blunt, too.

Autobiography

I'm going to write an autobiography. Zippy inspired me. This is all I have written so far:

Somehow, when I was little, I had the ability to draw in boys pretty well. Probably because I was more like a boy than anything else. I was confident, too. I had barely any hair on my head, a gap between my front teeth that my older brother Scotty liked to call “the Grand Canyon”, and to make it even WORSE, a missing tooth right next to my top right front tooth. I was born without a tooth there—it never grew in. Those things seemed to not phase me much. Because I was cool. The hair that I did have on my head was white blonde and always in a ponytail, and I had brown skin and I was athletic. I could beat all the boys in the mile run during P.E. and kick the ball the farthest out of all the girls in kickball. In fact, when teams were chosen for kickball, I was usually one of the first chosen. And I apparently was good at tetherball. One day in fourth grade, a girl named Deah came up to me and asked if I wanted to play tetherball. I didn’t really ever play tetherball, but I agreed anyway. Deah was the tetherball queen. But then I beat her, and her reaction to her defeat was, “Your name should be Audrey Bitchell.” Looking back as an adult I think I would have stood there with a straight face and blinked a couple of times. But I am sure having been raised in a home where cussing is bad (I still think that swearing makes a person sound uneducated) would have caused me to feel shocked that a fourth grader just said the “B” word. Anyway, as previously stated, the boys loved me. Who knew that a boy could score a girlfriend that was just like him? It worked out perfectly. And I somehow discovered at an early age that you can win a boy’s heart with mere food, especially candy. Most likely because my heart could be won the same way. One day in fifth grade I saw my boyfriend Jordan talking to a new girl under a tree ALONE during recess. She wore make up. I couldn’t believe it! She was practically a woman! That night I looked in the mirror and thought that I would look that good too if I wore makeup. (Who was I kidding? I could stick the neck of a toothbrush in “the Grand Canyon” and my body was frequently covered in bruises.) Well I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup so I did the next best thing to win Jordan back. The next morning before he came into class I put a note that probably stroked his ego and taped starbursts all over it. He was sold.

Rolling in the Benjamins

I need a get-rich-quick scheme ASAP. Then I can:

-go to Jerusalem

-send packages to all my peeps. I love the idea of sending people surprise packages frequently.

-buy a Dyson. I will be content with two toys in my life. One is a huge plasma screen tv with surround sound, and the other is a Dyson. Vacuuming with a Dyson is one of the funnest most pleasurable things ever.

-Buy a bunch of books that I want to read. Or at least just put them on a shelf so that people will think I am smart and have read them all.

-Though I will hate the process of buying, I will love wearing new clothes.

Changing the subject...

To my roommates Liz, Laura, Kim, Allison, and Melissa: I just want you to all know that I love you guys and can't wait for our trip to Vegas. :)

To Sarah, Aaron, Weslie, Riggie, Big Mac, Ann, Brian, Campers, Janie, Danin, Charley, Kitten, Yorla, Johnny Boy, Puppy, Yamigus, and Pops: I can't wait to see you all.

Provo-->Las Vegas-->Florence, Oregon-->Las Vegas-->Harrisonburg, Virginia-->Washington D.C.-->Las Vegas-->Provo

It looks like Jane is dragging Dad up that dune.




I know, I know. That title was way longer than it needed to be.

Writing a blog would be so much easier if I had an exciting life. EXCEPT, it was super exciting going to Oregon to see Ann and Brian and the kiddies AND going to Virginia to see my Yorligus and Johnny Boy. It was all awesome. And I even read two books on the vacay. A Girl Named Zippy and Princess Academy. The first one was really good, and pretty dang funny. the second one is a New York Times bestseller and a Newberry award winner....SO it's for young adults and the book fits perfectly in the "young adult" genre of books. A good story, but a cheeseball one. (I realize that the word cheeseball is not an adjective, but I just love the word.) I plan on reading lots of books this summer.

I need to find a job. But I swear I just wasn't cut out to work! Looks like I will just have to lay out by the pool and suck up the sun. JK, hopefully I get a job soon. I perhaps would like to work at a floral shop. Wish me luck in finding anything close to that.

Is anyone else still shocked that Bryce Leavitt is getting married?! We got his announcement, and I swear every time I look at the picture he is the same age as when I was getting in arguments with him at age seven and telling him to "GET OFF MY PROPERTY!" What? Where did I learn such a dumb comeback? Probably one of my older siblings...

I made some new month resolutions. I am going to get into a routine of regular exercise, I am going to read some books, I am going to get a job, and I am going to be the best gospel doctrine teacher in my ward. :) Except I am teaching the Old Testament (gulp), and so all help will be gratefully accepted.

That's all.

Meet Melissa

This is my cool friend Melissa. I met Melissa last year in my ward at BYU and I was her visiting teacher. Getting to know her has been interesting. Here's why:

-I should probably mention first that her name is Melissa Anne Mitchell.

-Her initials are MAM. Mine are AMM.

-Her family lives in Las Vegas. My family lives in Las Vegas.

-She was born in '88. Yeah, me too.

-She has three sisters. As do I.

-She has long brown hair. I have long blonde hair. Even our differences are alike.

-She likes skinny jeans and old school Vans. So do I. (See pictures)

-We just happen to be in Psych 341 and History 364 together. That wasn't planned.

-In fact, we are both working toward getting the same Social Sciences Teaching degree.

-She loves cats. :) ...enough said.

Weird, eh?

I'm Good

Frequently I come to realizations that I think should be shared with the world because I am convinced that they could help many people out. I have a secret (so much for a secret now) desire to write one of those self-help books, like How to Win Friends and Influence People because of these genius realizations I come to. Except I never write them down so if I were to write a book I would only be able to remember like two things and my book would have one chapter with one paragraph in it. Sounds like a New York Times best seller to me. Anyway, I had one of those realizations today. And that is: A human mind has the power to do anything it wants. So sometimes I live by the philosophy of getting through my college career the easiest way possible (alright who am I kidding. Sometimes? Nah...always). I demonstrated part of my brain power today in my Pearl of Great Price class. So after class I walked up to my professor and asked if he was acquainted with Brother Robinson (Stephen Robinson), and he said, "Steve? Oh yeah, we are good friends." To which I then said, "I was just wondering because I see some similarities in your teaching methods." (Oh please, since when do I talk like an intellectual?) My professor then said, "Really? Wow, well that is a compliment. What's your name?"
"Audrey."
"Well thanks Audrey."
And I bet he will remember that because I make comments and participate in class, and I always say thank you to him after every class. So basically if you play teacher's pet without being annoying about it, you're golden. A+ in PGP this semester? Oh I'll get it.

Ok ok I know it doesn't always work like that, but I really do believe those cheese ball, cliche sayings like, "If you put your mind to it, you can achieve anything" blah blah blah. But it is true. You want to get on the good side of a professor? You ask him/her questions that convince them that you are genuinely interested in the subject they teach. You participate in class, etc. and you are bound to be better off than if you have no interaction whatsoever with that professor. I had some good interaction with my history teacher, Professor Fluhman, today too. He probably loves me now. (Charley can agree that Prof. Fluhman is the shiz).

Alright alright, so that might be a no brainer, but I swear I come up with better stuff than that--stuff that I will write in a book one day and sell millions of copies, yo.

No more boring talk. Any updates with me? Nope. Except I will probably be getting glasses tomorrow. No more squinting.

Buh bye now.

This one's for you, Ann

Ann-
I just want you to know how much I love you. I was thinking yesterday about how much you accomplish on this earth, and it reminded me once again how important you are. Here are just a few reasons why:

You are one of my best friends.
In fact, you are a best friend to all of us in the family, and to many others outside of the family.
You are a great wife to Brian.
You are a great mom to your kids.
You have an eye for beautiful things, and you incorporate them into your home.
You are pure.
You are spiritual.
You make lots of people laugh.
You are willing to serve anyone and everyone.
You are nice to everyone--it doesn't matter who it is.
You are a MIRACLE.

Like I said, this is just a list of a few. I hope you know how much you mean to all of us.

Love you...

Pootsie Poo Poo