Sometimes when I freestyle, I lose confidence.

Do you realize how long it's been since I've been in a regular blogging habit? Does anyone even care? Well, even if you don't care, I do. Because I write for posterity, y'all! So if nobody else even cares to read this garbage, it don't matter cuz I write for POSTERITY! And Gina.

What happens if I have no posterity to write for? I need to buy me some posterity.
Speaking of buying family members, I need to buy some sisters, too. Know any that are for sale? Preferably the adult-variety that will pay their own ways to Salt Lake with me to go on a sisters' shopping trip. Some friends I know (all sisters) are planning one of those and I'm overwhelmingly jealous. In fact, I may just be planning my OWN Salt Lake shopping trip that very same weekend, with the hopes I'll run into them. That's not why I'm considering going down. That can't be why. Could I be THAT pathetic? Don't answer that.

I SO want to catch my blog up on stuff. Stuff like the Park City weekend of last month. Or Amy's birthday where we all wore tassels on our butts and got them to fly around. See? THESE are blog-worthy events!
So, I went to Park City back in February. It was fun.
Amy's birthday was last week. We wore tassels on our butts. It was fun.

Whatever. I'll do those events justice later. Tonight, it's late and I'm just freestylin'!

My life has become SO CRAZY busy and I really kind of love that. I bounce from work, to FHE, to Zumba, home to sleep, more Zumba in Rigby, and then back to work, to donate plasma, home to watch NCIS with the parents and then sleep, then back to work, then to branch activities, then back home to sleep, then to work, and the temple, then to Zumba, home to sleep, more Zumba, then to work, to donate plasma and to volleyball, then home to sleep and to Zumba and then to Kelly Canyon or someplace just as fun, then to someone's house for games or treats or something, then home to sleep, then to church and to a fireside or smoothie Sunday or both. Somewhere in there, I really need to do some laundry. Like ... tomorrow. I'm out of underwear. Sometimes, in between all that, I go shopping or I watch Lost with Gina, or I stay up all night watching Scrubs or Friends. I've kind of decided that Scrubs helps make my life complete. I wanna be crazy-clever like that.

It feels seriously good to laugh out loud at a TV show.

Tonight we played volleyball. None of Bev's boys showed up. That means that we played actual VOLLEYBALL instead of the crazy ping-pong version that goes on when they're forced to play against their wills. It was one of the best nights ever. I still made some stupid moves--but that's to be expected. But for the most part, we had an awesome game going on! And then we all went to Dairy Queen afterwards and laughed a lot.

Now, I'm about to finish reading the first non-Harry Potter book I've read since ... I attempted Twilight nearly 3 years ago. I'm slowly trying to regain my love of reading with Fablehaven. Good stuff. I have a chapter left.

This is the kind of free-stylin' blog post I've come up with. Posterity, you're welcome.

There's a picture of New York! There's a picture of New York! There's a big fat, crazy picture of New York! Freestylin'. ** I don't know how to official give credit for this.

My silly mama

I got a phone call from my mom this afternoon. She must have been on her lunch break from work. Here's how it went down.
Mom: "Hey, who sings 'Stuck On You'"?
Me: "Sugarland."
Mom: "What?"
Me: "Sugarland."
Mom: "What?" [to someone else in the car] "Not you!" ***lots of laughter*** "We're listening to Lady Antebellum!"
Me: "Who's 'we'?"
Mom: "hehehe! What? Oh. Stephanie, Shannon and I are listening to Lady Antebellum. Okay. Gotta go. Bye!"

What the heck? Yeah, this was a total role reversal. I felt like I just had a conversation with my sixteen-year-old self.  Thanks for calling, mom. I hope you, Shannon and Stephanie have a great lunch together and when you get back to the dentist's office, you all realize you're grownups and you stop singing, "Wuh-oh, wuh-oh!" When a patient walks in the door.

I love my mom. I mostly love that I'm exactly like her, although, I don't like admitting it to her face.
A few Saturdays ago, I'd been working on stuff in my room for most of the day before I finally decided to get ready. Dad was working on re-finishing the basement and mom had had ENOUGH of being by herself upstairs. She needed attention. And she decided that coaching me while I put on my eyeliner was the right way to get it. "You gotta hold your face like *this* and then shmear it with your little finger!" "Don't tell me to go away, I love you! I just wanna BE with you!" When I rehashed this story to my old roommate, Gina, she said, "So THAT's where you get it!" Hmm. Apparently the scenario was familiar.

We're both goofballs. We both crave attention and fight for it in obnoxious ways (like getting in people's faces, or shutting the TV off when it's time to listen to ME.) We're also pretty competitive with each other. My poor dad. No wonder he leaves the room. We both tend to lapse into baby talk eliciting comments from my teenaged cousin Makay, "You two talk funny." We're both super playful and like to harrass the people we love. Instead of politeness, we share sarcasm. Instead of tenderness, we banter. We make faces from across the room and then get embarrassed when we're caught. I love my mom. She's just like me ... only older. But she's still pretty dang cute!

Mush

I need to be more artsy fartsy and less default-blogger-template with a photo at the top. I find inspiration everywhere (today it came from Annie's and Kylie's blogs), but I never get around to applying it. Mostly because when I apply it, I try too hard and it just looks worse.

I've improved my sitting-at-work computer posture. I'm pretty sure my at-home computer posture has become worse.

I went to Zumba TWICE in thirteen hours. It was the best thing ever! I wish I could quit my job, just to make room for more of that.

I could NEVER EVER EVER quit my job. I've been idle for a mere two hours tonight and I'm ready to climb walls. Curiously, I'm NOT ready to call it quits and go to bed, even though it's nearly midnight.

I wish I could wear beanies better. Big hair complicates life.

Kraft Jet-Puffed strawberry flavored heart-shaped marshmallows. That's a complete sentence. Go with it.

I had two very specific, yet small things on my after work/before bed "to do" list. 1--clean out my purse 2--clip my fingernails. Dang these too-long fingernails are STILL clicking obnoxiously on my keyboard. And I don't even know where my purse is.

I've forgotten how to use commas, and I've resorted to capitalizing words for emphases. Why did I even bother getting a college degree?

My room's a mess, but I can't clean it because there's no place to put stuff. How many coats does one girl NEED? there's probably no answer to that. Because, next time I see a super cute one, the answer will be "Just one more."

I would rather be talking to Kim right now, but somehow I ended up here, with SO MUCH to say that I can't seem to put words and thoughts together. My filter turns my brains to mush. Because I can't just "spill it" for the world to read, this is what you're left with.

I should learn to learn from my own mistakes.

unconventional goals

I have a goal to get LESS sleep.
I've grown accustomed to nine hours a night. Do I need that? I feel like I do. Because when my alarm goes off after 7.5 hours, I have NO choice but to turn it off and keep snoozing. I often say I'm robbed of my agency in the mornings. But, sometimes I honestly feel like I don't consciously make the choice. The answer is always "more sleep."
It doesn't really sound like a bad thing. Sleep is good for me, right? But it's really hard to fit 8 hours of work into a day that tends to start so late. When 5 o'clock rolls around, I just need to go home! AND, I feel like a slug. So many of my friends are busy, without time for sleep. Kari studies for her CPA exams into all hours of the night. Amanda wakes up with two kids who refuse to sleep during conventional hours. Amy puts her kids to bed, then teaches Zumba, cooks family dinners, does laundry, cleans the house and starts all over again only a couple of hours later. What good is my nine hours of sleep doing for the world? Well, I'm less crabby. And trust me. THAT does the world a LOT of good.

I have a goal to read scriptures in the MORNING.
Yes, the goal is that specific. I've been working on my scripture studying habits in general, but I know I learn very little when I try to read before bed. I've already dragged the day out as long and as late as possible and I'm ready to call it quits. Retention at that time is at an all-time low. I've started reading in the evenings after work-before the next activity. But, I'm always so distracted by where I'm supposed to be and what I have to do to be ready. Also, my phone is rarely quiet long enough for a beneficial study and I don't have the self-control to turn it off. My patriarchal blessings specifically recommends MORNING scripture study. I've learned from experience that that's most beneficial. That means, I have to wake up early enough to make that happen. It all goes back to that. Anyone want to give me a wake-up call? I'll probably come to hate you, so call at your own risk.

I have a goal to eat more.
I have horrible eating habits! My dietician friend Lindsey would say I have an unhealthy relationship with food. It's true. I do. I HATE to cook. I hate coordinating and planning and trying to come up with something. I seriously have NO idea about calories and serving sizes and I don't care to. I just hate food. Trust me, I LOVE to eat it when it's there! I just hate that I have to worry about it! So, generally, I don't. I don't worry about it. I bring my chocolate chip muffin to work every day, not because I love them so much I can't do without them, but because they're easy and they're there. But after that, I'm hopeless. I don't leave for lunch at work. As a rule, I basically starve myself until I can get my hands on ANYTHING and then I totally gorge myself. Anyone who's had me at a potluck or seen me at a restaurant knows that I don't know when to stop. I eat myself sick ... mostly because I don't know when I'm going to be able to eat real food again! I need to eat more regularly so it doesn't feel like I'm in an eating contest when I DO get to have second and third helpings of Jami's creamy potato-bacon soup.

I need to work on my blog. It used to be cool.
Now it's not.
I still am, though. You don't have to worry about that.

powerless awakening

So, I was thinking tonight about some of my earliest memories--trying to conjure up little Brooker and the joys and sorrows of her upbringing. As I took a mental inventory, I came across an un-healed memory that actually brought fresh tears to my eyes.

I was no more than three or four years old and attending Tot Lot Daycare in Idaho Falls. My dad was already working for Skywest Airlines and bringing home random treasures from the airport Lost and Found. He still does it. I got a used Nalgene bottle for Christmas this year. Thanks, Dad. One night, he brought home a soft, like-new Care Bear blanket. I can still feel the excitement as I snuggled it. I was such a lucky little girl! I loved it so much, I couldn't stand to leave it home the next day when I went to day care. I brought it and it was stowed under the stairs with everyone else's. I got to use it at nap time, and then it went back in the pile. Five o'clock rolled around and parents started showing up. I can still remember it happening. The mother of a baby boy, too young to talk, reached in and grabbed my Care Bear blanket to take home with her son. My heart leaped into my throat. I don't remember if I approached her myself, or if I summoned Grandma Joy, but either way, I stood alone as the mother insisted the blanket belonged to her son and walked out the door with it. Of course, Grandma Joy sided with her. She was the adult. I was powerless, and my own mother wasn't there to defend me. I'm pretty sure I didn't even throw a fit, I was so shocked and distraught at what had just happened. That was the end of my blanket. Mom came a bit later to bring me home, but I don't even remember if I told her what happened. I just remember how powerless I felt.

Life has been good to me. I've been SO blessed with amazing and wonderful people in my life. I love those friendships where two people can claim to be "glued at the hip." One of my favorite things was to be labeled "Brimball" because Kimball and I were always together--or that one Saturday morning when both Lisa and I slept in until noon because we kept looking at our phones, expecting the other person to call. It was just a given that we were going to be together that day.

Loneliness has not been a life-long curse, but it has been a reoccurring one. Two of my good friends are sisters, and while I ADORE their close, family relationship, it pains me to hear them talk about things knowing that whatever is planned, they'll be together for it. I've had too many days where nobody knows where I am, and nobody misses me. I've gone through too many days without any personal interaction. I've fought too many battles without anyone ever knowing about the fight.

I love my friends and I love the relationships I have. I love my family and the good times we have together. I have good people in my life and I feel love from them. But sometimes, I'm still four years old and somebody bigger than me has my blanket and nobody's got my back.

No one here is a machine

Friday night, I was the only one at the game table without my phone in hand. Jen Lee, Carl, Skyler and Kari were all texting away between rounds of Pit. I'd already checked my phone cuz I felt left out. It was thrown violently back onto the couch, "NOBODY loves me!" Yeah, I still throw temper tantrums.
I came back to the table to pout when my phone started going CRAZY with new messages!
Here's what I opened it up to:

Carl: "Hi, Brooker! ;)"
Skyler: "I'm going for oranges." (we WERE playing Pit, after all.)
Kari: "Have i ever told you how happy you make me?!? Loves! :)"

All three of them were sitting at the table, cracking up that they'd all sent messages at the same time without consorting with each other. Man, I love these guys! My friends are better than your friends.

I do stupid things and I like it

 Skyler and I climbed onto the ledge at Jeff's house to hide

at Jeanna's surprise birthday party.

The hot tub was making me light-headed, so Lisa suggested this.

Anytime is a good time for a snow angel.

Here I am plummeting off of a 40-foot cliff at Havasupai.

It was faster than the extra 2 mile hike around to the bottom.

I'm pretty sure I'll do anything on a dare.
I have a few disclaimers--if it requires skill, it's gotta be one that I HAVE. I don't wanna die trying something stupid.
It doesn't always have to be a dare, either. Once I get an idea in my head, I can't back down from it. This determination does NOT reach into any responsible areas of my life.

I'll do pretty much anything, as long as someone else does it first. Well, if SHE can do it, then I DEFINITELY can. My courage can not be outdone. My stupidity can't, either.
I blame Desirae for a lot of that. All growing up, I followed her all sorts of crazy places. She once told me that she'd go anywhere and try anything, as long as I was with her. Well, I'd go anywhere and try anything as long as I was with HER. Together, we had no limitations. I think we were expecting the other one to step up. It didn't happen. That's probably why we have so many stories to tell. I'm pretty sure this is how skinny dipping was introduced into my list of hobbies.

I have no self-respect. Momma's not proud, but I'll throw all dignity aside to win a cake-eating contest with Skyler. He's started to learn that I don't back down from stupid challenges. That's why I did THIS at Kari's birthday dinner the other night. Not a big deal. Just another stupid suggestion I couldn't say no to.

Lots of comfort zones were invaded when Des and I did study abroad in Mexico back in 2004. Here's a small review of some of that craziness:

Desirae and I danced down the streets of Play del Carmen, Mexico
like drunk girls on Spring Break with roses in our teeth.
Lots of short Mexican men were pretty excited about that.

Wrapping a real boa around my shoulder in Belize.

My hair LOVED the humidity.

Passing around a tarantula in Guatemala. I was pretty excited that

Des was nervous about this one. NOW who's the wuss?

We slept under mosquito nets.

A few days after this, we were so desensitized to the bugs that Des and I got in a cockroach fight. One fell on me, so I chucked it on her. That REALLY started something. :) That's another thing I learned from Des: Don't start something unless you're willing to finish it! (Again, that mantra does NOT extend to responsible areas of my life.)