Reason for Never Posting #1

I decided to split this post into two parts so that you can all receive maximal information. Isn't that nice of me?

And Reason #1 for Never Posting is: My lovely new job.

The summer job that I secured (despite my lack of dreadlocks) is being a hippie.

Okay there's a little more to it, I guess.

I'm working for a program that backpacks with at risk youth. My schedule is 8 days on and 6 days off. And I'm not kidding you. Pretty much everyone I work with drives a Subaru, likely lives in that Subaru, and eats granola. Hippies. I rest my case.

So far, I've worked 2 shifts. The first shift I was working with a group of 5 girl students. The second shift was with 10 boys. Unusually, pretty much the only difference between the girls and boys is that the girls had tampons in their supply bags and boys swore more. That's all.

When I decided to write this post, I didn't know exactly what to write. I mean, the program has lots of different aspects and particulars and I don't really want to go into all of those. It'd be boring for everyone involved. So instead I decided to give you my favorite quotes from my last 2 shifts. These kids are a little ridiculous and they sometimes say some really smart things. I thought I'd share, so that you all can enjoy my work like I do. Here are my favorites:


"I just want to maintain my perplexion." --Sarah, while washing her face.

Brian: Okay, here's an unfair triv (for explanation's sake: if there's an extra divide of food, someone will ask a trivia question and whoever gets the right answer gets the extra div of food). What body part is the horn on a narwhal?
Max: Lord of the Rings!

"I don't really need goals." --Thomas.

"I am starving. I've been starving since breakfast!" --Jackson, while eating his second bowl of food for dinner.

"It just has really smart humor." --Liam, about Hot Rod.

Brian: Here's an unfair triv. Where did Andrew Jackson get the scar on his cheek?
Liam: Who's Andrew Jackson. Wait, he's an actor, right?

"Nobody likes the Yankees except for Yankees fans." --Max

"I want people to know that I party. I want people to know that I fist pump." --Ryan, while discussing stereotypes that might be formed by the music we listen to.


So there you have it folks. That is, in a nutshell, the beauty of my job this summer. Don't worry-I'll keep ya'll posted.

It's an Unhealthy Obsession

I went for a 7 mile run this morning. 6 and 1/2 of those miles were in the pouring rain.

The picture doesn't really give it justice. I was soaked. Dripping, actually. I could literally wring out every article of clothing I was wearing, even my underwear.

But I loved it. Every last sopping footfall.

And that, my friends, is the story of my obsession.

P.S. I am truly sorry that I haven't written for so long. Much has happened since the last time we chatted. And by lots, I mean LOTS. So basically, next time I post, prepare yourselves for an outrageously long and informative narrative of my life for the past month and half. Meanwhile, I will be rocking the life of an at-risk-youth-saving-hippie.

How's that for a cliffhanger?

My Job at the Library

When people find out that I work at the library here on campus, they usually snicker. Like working here would be so boring. And, sometimes it is. Sometimes any job can be boring. I mean, sure, lots of other jobs get some rocking perks like free food or 50% off merchandise...like clothes. And the perks that come with working at the library are limited (seriously, who thinks that checking out a book without the completely mandatory student ID card is a perk?) But in all honesty, I love working here. It's the best. And I will tell you why:

• I know what goes where, which comes in handy when I've gotta write 10 page research papers.
• I can change due dates (oooooh, aaaahhhh), for myself and others.
• I get to be the sexy librarian.
• I often get paid for doing homework, sniffing markers (actually, not that enjoyable) and daydreaming.
  
• I get to say to attractive guys, "I can check you out."
• I get to chat with the locals (which might be synonymous with crazies...like the guy who swears that Planet of the Apes (the pre-Mark Wahlberg stuff) will be the most historically accurate film sometime in the near future).
• I get the best movie/book reviews.
• I know where all of the best places to make out are (not that I've been able to use this very helpful resource...yet...)

There are tons of other reasons why my job is the bomb. But the best reason I can think of is portrayed most effectively through this lovely clip:



Oh man, Arthur is still rocking it.

It is definitely one of my goals to remake this awesome music video.

Or at least sing the song to some unwanting patron.

Moral of the story: Go to the library. More specifically, come to my library. That way, I can hook you up with the awesomeness.

Or, more likely, I'm bored and want a visitor who doesn't spend 10 minutes telling me that the Mark Wahlberg version sucks.

It's done!

Right after I graduated from high school, I decided that my summer project would be to make a quilt.

One year and 10 months later
(so much for "summer"),
having spent more than 200 bucks
(sewing, I found out, is not a very practical hobby
for a college student)
and after enduring lots of cutting
and sewing
and more cutting
and picking
and resewing...

I finished.

So here it is:

(sorry for the super attractive Ruby's Inn background).

A close up.

Another pic...just for the record.

So that's it.
I'm quite pleased with it. 200 bucks, 250ish+ hours and probably about 10 or so curse words was totally worth it.

My Insanely Awesome Family

I kind of just wanted everyone to know that my family is the bomb.

Really.

We have two major activities--reunions, if you will--within a month of each other.

And I look forward to, nay, anticipate each one. Every. Single. Year.

Most people would shy away from such an audacious display of family spirit. Many would feign sickness or work.

But not us. We love it. I love it. Because I really, really love my family. So here's a quick update of the last 2 Lifferth shindigs.

#1. Ja Jawohl! -The German Dinner

Once a year, we get together to celebrate our Germanic (and sometimes Irish) heritage. That's right, people: I am one quarter German, which is pretty awesome, if you ask me. Even if it only helps me in loving sauerkraut and saying my only known German phrase: "Sehr lekker!"

This year's dinner was especially yummy and entertaining.
Four delicious courses and some rocking company.
And what's a German gathering without some underage drinking???
(note the German flags in her hair. Now, aren't we festive?)

It was everything we could have wanted it to be, and more. Plus, we got to keep those awesome beer mugs!

Story for the event: We had the opportunity to sit at a table with my Uncle Karl and his sons. We were enjoying our pork chops and potatoes when Karl let out a swear (something that is not uncommon in our family...). Leslie, always observant and poignant, said, "You just swear?" (we all know how Leslie talks...). It was shyly admitted that he had. To which Leslie responded, "That okay. Sometimes my dad calls me swear words."

Yep. That is my sister.

#2. Ruby's Inn

14 years ago, my cousin left on his mission. We love missionaries, so the fam drove all the way down to Henrieville (this Podunk town in Southern Utah) to see him off. We loved it so much that we just kept going back.

This year was filled with pure awesomeness.

This year I had my first ever experience with the wii (I'm serious. Hadn't played it before. Ever).

Just Dance. It was awesome.

And it wouldn't be a real Ruby's Inn Retreat if there weren't some good hickish model shots.

We also got a rocking deal on snow shoeing.
And this is Ranger Jim:
He really loved to talk. A lot. We would snowshoe for 3 minutes and then stop and Ranger Jim would talk at us for like 15 minutes. So we ended up hiking about 1 mile. But it took us 2 hours.

That's okay. I didn't mind, really. If it weren't for Ranger Jim, I wouldn't know that I am an elk and not a mule deer, because I have large hindquarters and can snowshoe up a hill. Crazy, I know. He also told us that the copper color of this tree means something. But I can't remember what. Sorry, folks. (the tree really was copperish...just not in the pic)

I also just noticed how this photo really defines my elk-like features.

But we got to see some really pretty Bryce Canyon scenery.
So Ruby's Inn was definitely full of some good times. Luckily, a handful of us got the plaid matching shirts memo for easy family identification (sorry for the blurry pic).

And of course, the trip wouldn't be complete without our visit to the Henrieville ward. It was fast and testimony meeting. Unfortunately, only one person bore theirs on the high school's basketball team. Usually there's at least 3 or 4.

So there you go. That's why my family is honestly pretty freaking rad.

A Feel Good Story

Last night was going okay. Really, it wasn't too bad at all. I got to hang it with my favorite immature adolescents (I mentor at the middle school) (and it sounds like I'm being sarcastic-but I'm not. I really love those kids:). I talked to (coughmaybeflirtedwithcough) a couple of very attractive guys. And I had a good time hitting up the FHE.

But then I had to do a dumb CSIS assignment.
And then the computer kept freezing.
And there is just nothing like technical difficulties to turn a good day to awful.

You know what I'm saying?

And then I had to go to Wal-Mart. Which isn't exactly my favorite place in the world.
Especially not on Monday nights around 10.
The isles become a restocking obstacle course with all the boxes and bags and workers.
And, apparently, Wal-Mart only believes in two open check-out lines after ten.
Even though there were 5+ people in each line.

My roomie Amanda and I were getting pretty bored in line. Naturally, we snagged a magazine and started skimming. And when we finished with that one, we grabbed another. And then another. When it was almost our turn, I grabbed a Taste of Home Cupcake magazine-the kind that only has recipes-no articles-but tons of pictures.

And, holy cow, that magazine had, quite possibly, the cutest cupcakes I've ever seen.

No joke.

So, I sat there ooohing and ahhhing at all the cute little cupcakes.

Just a sample for you. I mean, isn't that adorable?

There were a couple of girls in line behind us (because 10pm on Monday is such a practical time for college student grocery shopping). They wanted to see what I was so excited about. So I showed them some of the cutest ones and we all were able to crave those babies together.

Amanda, like the frugal saint she is, told me to buy it.

I thought about it for like half a second but figured I could spend the 5 bucks elsewhere.

I returned the magazine to its proper place on the shelf and finished up checking out my much needed groceries (I'd been out of milk for a week, people!).

We loaded our cart and headed out to the parking lot. We were almost out of Wal-Mart when we heard someone calling behind us.

"Hey! Hey, wait!"

We stopped and looked back. One of the girls from the line was striding towards us, waving her hand.

"My roommate, she wants you to have this," she said as she held out the cupcake magazine.

And it was so random and so surprising, but so...nice.

Like, seriously.

It made my night.

So...to the girl who bought it for me:

Thanks a ton!!!
I'll be paying it forward ;)

ThE eNd

I Heart Preemies

This title is not referring to babies (well, I suppose that could be debated).
It's referring to pre-missionary boys. Yes. Boys.

You see, when I was in high school, I basically had the best friends ever. My guy friends rocked my socks off (and they still do...they are just all on missions...so I never get a reminder, you know?). Whenever a school dance came rolling around, or even sometimes just for fun, one of my guy friends would ask me out. We would go on the date and have the greatest time.
We'd be ourselves.
We could talk about anything.
I didn't have to worry about looking/acting like an idiot.
He didn't have to worry about impressing me.

It was just plain good.

But as soon as I came to college, all of that changed.

Suddenly, a date means that the boy is screening you as a potential eternal companion. It means that you passed the first and most basic test: he finds you semi-attractive and at least remotely interesting.
The first date is its own kind of survival-of-the-fittest. To weed out the unworthy, if you will.
It can be extremely stressful and also disheartening.
Which is why the last date I went on was particularly refreshing.
I went on a date with a Preemie.

Apparently, my mother has been in contact with the institute here in Cedar, because they are trying to get us married left and right (just like she is). Usually, the prompting is left to talks, and firesides, and more talks. But lately, they've gotten a little more creative. They have started doing regular "date nights." The institute plans an activity and tells you to come if (or should I say when) you can find a date. The activities are generally fairly entertaining and creative and there is always food involved (they know how to advertise to starving college students).

This time around they planned a picture scavenger hunt. Preemie and I have been friends since August. We're in the same ward and this semester we are in the same Mission Prep institute class (go figure). He's basically super hilarious. And the date was so fun. It was good to just go out knowing that there were zero expectations (I mean, the kid already has his call). We had a great time.

We took lots of pictures. But here are some of our best:

We had to take a picture like we were advertising our favorite food. Incidentally enough, we both love a refreshing Corona (for my mother's sake: I AM just kidding).

This is of me eating something that is delicious and nutritious (number 5 on the list).

Another item on the picture list was "Take a picture of playing a sport. You must be dressed in appropriate attire." So Preemie and I hit up the local Sport's Authority. They were super nice and helped outfit us in matching baseball uniforms.

And, yeah, it was just really good, clean (minus the beer), non-stressful fun. I recommend it for anyone who is getting sick of the dating world (but make sure you find a mature Preemie...otherwise, I have no guarantees for this being rejuvenating).

The only bad part happened when I wrote to my brother Kyle about it. I told him all about the awesomeness of going on a date with a Preemie. This was his response:

"Your not going to get married if your only dating pre-mission boys, I think your the best hope for mom. So go get them." *

Sigh. He might be right. But I have my goals. And I'm trying to stick to them. Dating Preemies will only increase my chances of succeeding. It probably won't help my mom out...but what's a girl to do?

*the misspelled words are his, not mine. I only copied and pasted.