Monday, November 11, 2013

Blogger Stats

I might be kind of new  around here, but I've browsed my fair share of blogs, and I've noticed some things. Things like: 

Most of them are written and photographed by female twenty-somethings. Don't deny it! YOU ARE A GIRL and if you're not a twenty-something, you wish you were.

Most of said twenty-somethings are single and loving it or married with an adorable baby that makes me think being a teen mom wouldn't be that bad. NO. But maybe you could just give me your kid?

 They're always so witty! I'll find myself laughing out loud like an idiot and then stalking archives for more hilarious humor for hours. Personality pretty much drips from the computer screen and I just want to lick it up so I can have some! Umm, awkward. There's my personality for you ...

They either have their lives really really together or revel in the fact that they really really don't. I'd fall into the second category. Like, wayyyyy into the second category. You should see my room, except I won't let you because it's too embarassing. I read the first kind of blogs for inspiration and the second kind when I have a reality check and need to feel better.


They only post on weekdays which I protest because JUST BECAUSE YOURE DOING FUN STUFF ALL WEEKEND DOESNT MEAN DONT HAVE TIME TO SIT AND READ BLOGS! Sad but true.

They have a twitter. I know, getwiththetwentyforatcenturyerrebodyhasatwitter but I actually don't Twitter because what am I even supposed to say on there? Like when my cat does something funny? I don't get it, I'm an old lady.

They like Mean Girls which means I automatically love you! So you can go shave your back now ... Or something g. 

That's pretty much it. Everything you never knew about yourself, I'm kinda like your doctor! Ok that got weird anyway, love you bailout! 


Thursday, October 24, 2013

What I did instead ~or~ #yolo

Tomorrow morning I'm going to be really disappointed that I didn't finish my homework tonight, and I will probably walk through the doors of my highschool complaining and crying and still trying to play sick even though my mom totally saw through that one. And I'll walk up to my friends and be like,
"Guuuyyyys-uh, I am SO stressed out because I didn't do any homework and I have to do all of it in study hall and do my online class because im 2 1/2 weeks behind and I didn't even wash my hair last night OR this morning OR shave my legs so I had to wear tights and then I couldn't find my tights and MY LIFE IS SO HARD!!! "

To which they will probably respond with either,
 
"Ok seriously just shut up. Our life is like way harder."

 
OR
 
"I'm sorry, your life IS so hard. You were probably SOOOO busy doing all the super important things that you do last night!"
 
 

I really hope no one chooses option number 2 because then I will feel really guilty and have to tell them that I really just babysat and then stalked this girl who used to go to our rival gradeschool's my friend's adorable relationship  on Insta and then talked about baseball and then slept and then ate onemaybetwo Fruit by the Foots in bed while blogging from my iPhone.

Can we talk about Fruit by the Foots for a second? They are the best, and I'm obsessed starting yeserday.  They come in three little strips and you can puuuuull them off and eat them a little bit at a time or you can wad them up in a giant ball and eat them all at once like right now.  And they taste like my childhood and I'm kind of missing that right now.

Anyway, (you might want to go back and read the last (ok, only) sentence of he paragraph ening in "my iPhone" to refresh yourself)I mean my life is not hard! There are starving children in Africa that I'm sure would be extremely grateful to do all my homework and eat even one foot of my Fruit by the Foots. And they would probably still fit into their pants after said fruit treat consumption and not have to wear a skirt to school and if they did they would at least shave their legs and not have to look all morning for tights MY LIFE IS NO THAT HARD!  

Ok so that last part about the children in Africa was not really funny BUT it actually wasn't a joke because those kids really exist.  And so maybe we can save our Fruit by the Foot money AND our new pants money and instead check out World Vision where you can sponsor a kid for as much money as 2 Fruit by the Foots a day costs. No, seriously.

Here, I'll show you.


SO worth it, right? Maybe if you're not a regular consumer and don't have that kind of Fruit by the Foot/ new pants budget going on, you can share with a friend and both sponser a child.  Because who wants to let that little boy go hungry? NOT YOU, that's who! Please and thank you, and goodnight because I can't actually handle any more life right now.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

I Should Be Studying ~or~ Homecoming

So, I'm supposed to be studying right now (as you may have guessed.) But I got soooo tired and by my logic if I get some junk out of my brain and stop staring at all those words for a little and watch some volleyball and blog, it will improve my information retention by about a million percent. (look at me being all intellectual!) So I'm blogging right now, and if you judge me or tell anyone I don't even care because - LOOK! -I'm doin it! And no one can stop me. Also, I might be getting a little hysterical because it is wayyyy past my bedtime.

Anyway, sometimes haters are my motivators.  Like yesterday, my neighbor who used to be cool when we were like 4 asked my little sister about my homecoming date (which doesn't exist right now) and she had the nerve to tell him the gosh dang truth about it, and then HE had the nerve to be a jerk and suggest that I go with my 10 cats.


Come on guys, I don't have 10 cats.


Seriously.


The first thing that came to mind when I heard about this little episode was:
 And then I was kind of like, haha, there! That'll show you!

(Thanks Coco, and Pinterest.)

Because you didn't see me going across the street getting all up in HIS beeswax asking if he had a homecoming date, now did you? Right!

It's weird that he even did that, right?

But then reality hit and I realized that even if I did have ten cats, they're my best option for homecoming right now soooo . . . 

I mean not that I even care cats are pretty fun and its fun to just go with only yourself and a group of girls and not have to worry yourself about boys, right? Right??? 

And get to pay for your own dinner and ticket and not have to worry about getting a corsage or matching your dress to your date's tie or anything like that. So it's way less stressful, and I mean SOUNDS LIKE FUN.

That whole realization may have contributed to a little stalking Facebook memory jogging, just to remind myself why I'm going with my cats and not just some tooly guy who posts pictures with an I'm-so-hot-I-can-hardly-stand-it face and no shirt person I don't want to go with that much. 

Highschool is the bomb. 

P.S. When I got to school I told that story to my friend and do you know what she said? She said, "Maybe he was asking because he wants to ask you to his homecoming!" and outwardly I said "No, he's just a jerk." But on the inside I was kind of hoping he does so I can say no, muahaha. And then hand him a cat. I'm so cruel. But honestly, some people just need that kind of treatment. 







Saturday, August 17, 2013

I wish people were as exciting as my new iPhone case ~or~ PSG 101


I read a lot of blogs, and I keep hearing (ok, forreal?) seeing bloggers write that they were having trouble drafting a blog, that they love drafting blogs, that they had their first kiss while drafting a blog. Blah blah. I don't even really know what that is. All I know is that drafting usually involves multiple attempts at the same. dang. thingS something thats (in this case) going to come out a little dysfunctional and odd anyway (hellooo, my life) and ain't noboday go time fo dat. So, just so you know, 100% of my blogs are all-natural, organic, homegrown, 1st-try posts.  Now thats something you can be proud of reading. 

In other news, I got an iPhone! I am turning into a PSG minus the PS. (If you don't know what a PSG is, 1. be ashamed 2. read this post.) I was excited about exactly two things when it showed up in the mail. 

1. Snapchat

2. cute new phone case

I can't really illustrate the snapchat things here (helloooo there's a reason you can only look at those things for 3 seconds) because that's the way the app's designed, its impossible. Sorry!

But the cases. OH the cases.  There are about a KAZILLION available, and I mean I just have 1 phone soooo they made this job kind of tough on me. Except some of them go with personalities that aren't really me so that narrows it down. Which is what got me started thinking about who in the world would even own those things? And then I figured it out. And I wanted to tell Y. O. U!!!! Don't you feel special?
For the girls who ALWAYS choose the bros, so they have to convince the whole world that they don't so it doesnt hate them and what better way to do that then to get a phone case that says your (fake) personal mantra right on it??

For those who have a cat or dog allergy and need a hypoallergenic pet alternative.

For those who actually run, ha. 

For people (like me) who are about 5 years old. And think that their phone is definitely not entertaining enough. 

For those who, uh, like to express their love to their significant other in creative ways. Like phone cases. Mhm.

For nerds. 



I'd rather have the real stuff.

For those who plan to use an anchor to not sink.

For those who enjoy profound sayings. 

For positive affirmation . . . 

and just a friendly reminder.
Meangirls hellloooo!


For those who have it all and know it. 

For all your watercolor emergencies.

For . . . vampires?

This has been super sarcastic Saturday with Allie! Later, skater!








Saturday, August 10, 2013

Bike Adventures.

II don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but my ACL is currently torn due to this jerk player on the other team during our first soccer game of the season.  Which means I'm not allowed to run at the moment (Hallelujah! It's terrible. ). I am, however, allowed to ride my bike, so I've been doing that
A LOT.
Bike to church, bike to a friends house, bike to Kroger (that's my most frequent trip. I think the Kroger people are starting to judge me. Um, excuse me ma'am, weren't you here like 2 HOURS AGO?? Which is probably totally accurate.)

Sometimes I just bike for the fun of it.  Last night I had this killer headache (thanks segment 2) and it was about 105 in the house so I went to the garage to assess the bike situation.  Because I don't actually have a bike, I just use whatever's available. (Usually someone else's bike.)  That's when I discovered that my dad had put his bike waaaaaayyyyyy too high and my brother had put his waaaayyy too low, and the only other option was my mom's bike hanging in the back of our extremely messy garage. So i thought, 

"That looks like a lot of work. I'm just going to go back into the house and eat some food." 

Forreal, it's no wonder 99 or whatever percent of Americans are obese, with habits like that. 

I want you to know, however, that I was not about to become a statistic. Noooo SIR! So what did I do but dodge, dip, duck , dive, and dodge my way through that mess. And I grabbed that bull by the horns (bike by the handlebars) and pulled it right down off those ceiling hooks . .  . and onto the floor. Well, mostly. The other part was on top of/embedded in or old CD/cassette tape player. Not in riding position. I considered a container of Chobani and some well earned rest.  

But then I stopped considering because HELLO, anti-obese-America effort! I guess my intense passion for the cause gave me strength I didn't know I have, because before you know it I had that bike over my head like Superman or something, weaving between boxes and gold clubs and stuffed animals and bags of old clothes and tools and other bikes and shovels and bubbles Nd WD-40 and paint cans and chalk and basket balls and bottles and rope and that heeuge boom box (remember that torn ACL?) and finally into the driveway. 

Where I hopped onto my bike, jammed back the kickstand , and kissed Fat America goodbye.

Love, Allie 

Friday, August 9, 2013

I'm Back! ~or~ I'm waaaay more sheltered than I thought

So, I'm back! I know I said I was leaving, and also a bunch of stuff about dancing that probably made no sense and that I don't even really understand. I. KNOW. And maybe someday when you're older I'll explain it to you but I don't actually feel like doing that right now, so let the fun begin!

The fun being drivers ed, segment 2 A.K.A. Let's terrorize all these poor little 15-17 year olds about how incredibly dangerous cars and cellphones and friends and driving are and make them basically cry with a sad video.

I'm pretty sure that's the official title.

Annnnyyywayyyy, I walked into the room about 5 minutes late, sat down in the one empty chair, and started chugging water out of my waterbottle because I WAS THIRSTY. And when that was empty I looked around and what did my eyes behold but a bunch of public school girls.

Maybe I should explain. I go to a teeny tiny private school, which I love, but also leaves me really really oblivious about a lot of things. I mean, honestly, all of my friends are from church or my Christian school. I don't know anything at all.

Annnnyywwayyyyy (deja vu) you may be wondering how I could possibly know all of these girls went to public school. There are about 10ish 4ish no-fail signs.

1. They're really little. I mean, they're short too! And skinny! I'm pretty sure that the average public school girl is skinnier than the average private school girl. Which may account for . . .

2. Me being super jealous of them secretly

2. An overwhelming presence of really super short shorts and yoga pants.  They never wear dresses, which would totally be my outfit of choice every. single. day. if I had enough of them and didn't feel so peer pressured by the PSGs (public school girls, obvi) in my drivers ed class.

3. iPhones.   iPhones, one and all. Most of my friends and I have piece-of-crap phones, lots of the time held together by sticky tac or sheer will power.  Can I explain this weird phenomenon? No. But it proves true again and again and again. And again.

4. Straightened hair. Or straightened then curled.  All I know is that their hair looks good erreday, in DRIVERS ED CLASS! I mean, more power to ya, I wish my hair looked like that, but if I'm just going to drivers ed I'm going to give up that much of my precious time to something that I'm already not a huge advocate of. So sorry.

5. Ok. I'm out. I'm sorry if you go to public school and I've judged you incorrectly and you're actually fat and wear dresses and have a piece-of-crap phone and don't straighten your hair.  I'm sorry I assumed all of those awful things about you. I truly am.

Once I realized that I was surrounded by them, I knew things were about to get acca-ackward. Because, that probably meant that the boys were PSBs (not as good as recognizing those), and remember, I don't know anything? I was absolutely right. A boy at my table started talking about a party he was having.  Then he yelled at a friend who was sitting across from a girl he thought was totes gorge and told her to make friends with the totes gorge girl.  And when he started describing the pretty one to his friend, it was pretty much a dirty, dirty foreign language of a bunch of stuff I'd need Urban Dictionary and maybe a few sick-minded friends to decode.

The boy right across from me had a tattoo.

And most of said stuff my mind is obviously too naive to understand, and I'd actually like to keep it that way thank you very much! (but ok myabe I'm a teeny bit curious)

So I just sat there and looked at the poster that says, "I hafn't deen drfinkin, occifer. I sware." Which is supposed to be a clever way of explaining that the boy is drunk.

But mostly I was like,

COME ON, THE POSTER ISN'T EVEN IN ENGLISH!

Love, Me.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Bye, Guys

Well, you guessed it. I'm blowing this Popsicle stand.  Which stinks, kind of, because I really, really enjoy it Popsicles. Especially the kind that come in that long tube thing and then you can suck out all the juic that's left over when you finish the icy part. And blogging.

It's all thanks to my friend Allison of an extreme case of wanderlust, one of my best friends, who gave me this book that I'm now obsessed with.  I'm a Christian, which you may or may not have known, and this book is about dancing for God instead of everyone else (you people). And as much as I've enjoyed dancing for you all, I think it's time for me to take a break. There may come a day when dancing for God involves me hopping back on here and sharing food or life or whatever with you, which would be super cool. Until then, though, I'm out!

Oh, and I'm not trying to sabotage your blog or anything, but check out The Divine Dance. Worth a read. Definitely.

Love, Allie

Monday, July 29, 2013

(this post isn't really about) Ping Pong

It all started with a distress call. One of my best friends of all times texted me words that I'd expect only from her.  Dangerous words, the ones we all have a mental list of. So we can avoid them. Words like:

"We need to talk."


"Do you know how this got here?"


"Can I be completely honest with you for a minute?"


The text said,

"Want to sleep over tomorrow night? We need to have a ping pong convo!!"

Yep, that bad. I know. Ping pong convo is what M and I call the conversations where we stand on either side of her ping pong table or mine, smacking the heck out of that poor little white plastic ball and venting about boys. Or being excited about boys. Sometimes both. Those ones are intense. They usually involve a cute guy cozying up to M, or, a few months later, said cute guy being a jerk to M. Sometimes stuff happens to me, but mostly I just listen a lot. I also enjoy a good whack at the ping pong ball.

Don't get me wrong, I like these talks. I like the drama (what can I say? Life gets boring) and also we usually end up having a deep, meaningful conversation that makes us both feel a lot better. But to have a ping pong convo is a bit of an emotional investment.

Fast forward a few days to M's front porch. I was ready. I wasn't in my ping pong convo gear (sweatpants big enough to fit a whole household for post-match snacking gorging) because she told me we were going dress shopping. I rang the doorbell and waited a    l    o    n     g      t      i     m      e     for someone to answer.  I got nervous. I saw a replay of the shirtless brother incident coming on.

Sorry, recap.

The Shirtless Brother Incident

(doorbell rings)

(Shirtless brother answers door)

Me: Hi, is (why aren't you wearing a shirt it's January?) M here?

Shirtless brother: No . . . you might want to give her a call . . . this is weird because I'm not wearing a shirt.

At which point I proceeded to go back to the car and call M. Anywhoo . . .


Someone answered.  It was a male someone. Please have a shirt on, please have a shirt on, please be wearing a shirt, please don't be partially naked. 




It was a guy friend of mine, who doesn't usually live at M's house. Oh, I guess he's going to go dress shopping with us . . . and sleep over . . . and have a ping pong convo . . . 


SURPRISE!

A surprise party for moi, apparently. Did I mention my birthday's coming up? I didn't handle it well. First there was the squeaking. Then the crying and the hand waving and the awkward standing . . . I CAME here for PING PONG! 




But it was fun.  And my friends are some of the best. 





Even if they are sneaking, behind the back, secret keeping liars. 
















Want more weekend fun? Check out this Weekend Shenanigan link up with Sami's Shenanigans!

Friday, July 26, 2013

Friday Dare-day: Issue 3

Happy Friday! Yeah, yeah. I know. It's been Friday for a good long while. You've probably already been wished a happy Friday by everyone and their next door neighbor.

Where did that saying even come from? I mean, the only next door neighbors I know are mine. Is that bad? Maybe I should invite some other next door neighbors over for a barbecue or somethings, so I can get to know them as well as whoever coined that cliche thinks is appropriate.

Now, that could be a good Friday dare . . .

No. Anyway, here are the real Friday dares. This is activity that would be totally not weird to share with every single next door neighbor on your Twitter feed, Facebook friends, and contacts via this link right here!  Then maybe once you've taken that step, then you can invite them over for a barbecue or something.


  • Be charismatic! Apparently there's a formula for that "spark", that "something extra", that "star quality" that everyone who's anyone allegedly possesses, and you can find it here
  • Start a Bloglovin' account (guess who still doesn't have one?) and follow all your faves. 
  • Sweat it out.  Even if you hate sweating, like me, but sweat buckets while stretching before the run, like me. Take it back to grade school gym class - everything old is new again with these intense moves.
  • Give something away. Souvenirs for Smiles is just getting off the ground with a mission that's worth giving up for. 
  • Hire a mermaid. Yep, that's a thing now. Or, just watch one in action here. 
  • If you've got some extra money lying around, undertake a juice cleanse! If you don't have extra money lying around, DIY it. Do your research first and read this witty post about one man's experience. 
Other than that, have a fabulous weekend! And please, please forgive me for being so late. Hey, the weekend hasn't started just yet!


Friday, July 19, 2013

Friday Dare-day: Issue 2

It's Friday! Finally or already, ready or not, it's time for the weekend and the freedom to do whatever you choose. May I make some recommendations?


  • Join the rest of the world at the Museum of Modern Art to check out the revolutionary Rain Room, or see it in action from right where you are here. 
  • Try laughter yoga!  Yes, it's a little bit ridiculous, but they say it's good for you. Better yet? No yoga mat, pants, or studio necessary - grab a few friends (for maximum laughter) and do it right at home!
  • DIY - this one's easy and so cool. Pun not intended. Well, once I realized it was a pun, I didn't change it. So I guess that, yeah, it kind of is intended. 
  • Make this your mantra.
  • Educate yourself about this guy - looks like he's fixed to become one of the next big names in the sports world.
  • Make something from scratch. Make this from scratch. 
  • Stay in the know without really having to know it all with daily emails from The Skimm. Sign up here.
And since I had the nerve to suggest that you actually try all of these things, I'm going to do my best to try them out as well. I'll take pictures, don't worry. Expect a full round up sometime next week, after I'm back in the internet-connected world after a week of camping. 

I think I'll start with some laughing yoga. 


Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Adventures in Detroit

If you live anywhere in the U.S., you've probably heard things about Detroit.  I know, at least, that whenever I'm out of town and tell someone "I'm from the Detroit area," their initial reaction is to draw back slightly and hold onto their purse. Maybe they thing I'm a gang member or a thug, or at least a little tougher than your average teenage girl. 

At which point I usually explain I'm from the suburbs. 

Usually. Sometimes I just go with the tough girl thing. It's kind of fun!

In spite of everything you've heard about Detroit or anything you're thinking of now after my description, it's not all shady, run-down buildings, graffiti, and liquor stores. The city has some really, really interesting stuff to offer - I think the fact that you have to dig through the rubble and avoid the gangsters to get to it makes it even more so! I kind of love the mixture of the the struggle of the present city and the beauty that's in its past or its hope for the future.

Belle Isle is one of those interesting places, and although it's seen better days, it is, after all, an ISLAND! (I really like islands) and it's full of history and hidden secrets and is just a bridge away from downtown Detroit. 


This monument is visible across a small lake as you're driving into the island, and the view is

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Healthier Cheesecake

Mmm, cheesecake.  Possibly the most infamous dessert ever, known for busting diets (and pants seams),  tipping the scales, heart attacks, and the like.  Cheesecake is the villain, and we know it. Yet, something continually draws us in - it's the bad boy we know we should stay away from even
as we're digging into a slice of turtle or pumpkin or New York style. Not just once. Maybe not just once a day.

Fortunately, there's a hero around with an almost guilt-free solution to our problem: blogger Angela Gallardo from Bare Root. This is almost word-for-word her recipe, with a few slight variations I've made. Don't worry; this treat has the whole package - it doesn't sacrifice any flavor. It's super easy if you have a food processor and there's no baking involved (our oven is lukewarm on a good day, so no-bakes have been my thing lately)! It's the perfect summer treat, as proven by the fact that my family and I couldn't wait for the pictures before digging in. Intrigued yet? Good! You can whip one up yourself right now.


Monday, July 15, 2013

Why San Antonio?

I said I would tell you about why I went to San Antonio "tomorrow" about a week ago. I'm sorry. I haven't been giving you the time and and attention you all deserve, and I know how that can take its toll on a relationship. Forgive me? Maybe I can make it up to you with a little healthy cheesecake recipe, available tomorrow. (I promise!)
I left Michigan for cowboy country (although to my disappointment I hardly saw anyone who qualified as a real live cowboy while we were there) to get out of real life for a while; at least, I suspect that's the reasoning behind it. And let me tell you, the atmosphere down there really was surreal. Getting dozens of high fives, cheers, and possible being bombarded with free hugs was expected, and you know what? It was really cool. I met people from Maryland, California, and Oklahoma, all in the same 15 minutes.  On Thursday morning, I ran a 5k with (well, behind, mostly) thousands of other Lutheran kids my age. Since I've been back, I've met at least 3 complete strangers with connections to the National Youth Gathering, the real reason for going to San Antonio.


All week, we learned how to Live Love(d) - singing (screaming) along with bands, laughing at skits, listening to speakers, playing sports, and playing cards in the hallways of the hotel. We saw the theme of the week in action, ALL. THE. TIME., from packing boxes of food for families in Uganda and Ireland and Peru to lending each other money for another meal at one of the plentiful Mexican restaurants in the area. It was definitely one of those mountaintop experiences. I recommend it. 

If I thought everything was going to be the same, predictable and comfy, when I got back home, I was seriously mistaken.  After arriving home at 2:30 at night and falling asleep in my jeans and shoes on the couch, I woke up 10 hours later not exactly sure where I was. 

Jurassic park grew in our back yard.




We have enough prehistoric summer squash and cilantro to power a small town for a year or so, I bet. Goodbye, energy crisis.


There were still cow-person hats lying around anywhere and everywhere, thanks to my horse-loving little sister (and my overbudgeting my food money)



There were all these flowers everywhere, and also my mom earned a car by selling about a million tubes of red lipstick. (Go Mom!) Hence, all the flowers.








Hence, also, a new umbrella, which I happen to really love! It's so happy and stylish.



The roses that bloom for a week a year bloomed and started dying while I was gone. 





It rained.


And then got really hot.


Unlike other times I've left on a summer trip, the pool is still clear and clean. (When you look up my house on Google earth, the pool water is fluorescent green. We were pool rookies and thought we could just leave it there while we left for a couple weeks. Hint: It wasn't)





The swing set was pretty much the same.  But it was really good to see it again.


There you have it, the story of my reason for leaving and then coming home again. Mostly I had a few pictures that I wanted you to see, and I needed you to know how amazing the National Youth Gathering was.

About the Jurassic Park situation . . . anyone have any good summer squash or cilantro recipes?