I'm all getting married and such.

I hate weddings. I LOVE NEIL. But I hate weddings. And I hate weddings a little more extra.

WEDDING SUBJECT 1:
Neil and I had pictures taken for our announcements. And since we looked so hot in so many of them, we couldn't agree on which one to send out to people. So we split it up. One to my side of the family and friends. Another to his side of the family and friends.

Guess which one Neil chose. Guess which one I chose.

Times up.

Turns out, for whatever chest-rash-inducing reason, my picture didn't make it to most of my side of family and friends... (Pray that Neil's family didn't get my chosen picture. I have a feeling they wouldn't enjoy it as much.)
And surprisingly....people are upset about this?? Bah. Chill. I resent my picture to you kiddos. Give it a few days and then your life will be whole again.

WEDDING SUBJECT 2:
Now allow me to refer back to that "chest-rash-inducing" that I highlighted in gold a few lines back. I had an awakening this week. A marriage awakening.

Text Conversation:
Friend Niccole: Hey gurrrl! Wanna go out and grab a snack? We've been studying for so long and we need a break.

Katie Jane: Oh man! I so would but Neil just got here and I've gotta clear up the poor little rash on his chest!

Friend Niccole: Ew

Then it hit me................. I'm totally getting married.

WEDDING SUBJECT 3:
In one of my last classes, right before a final, I had 4 beautiful girls approach me. They handed me a gift with a sweet little card in which they had all written in. It was a wedding gift. They had all discovered I was getting married a few days earlier. They wanted to wish me well and say goodbye as I will be moving at the end of this week. And in their sweet sweet glorious wonderfulness, bought me a very nice mixing bowl with whisks and scrubby sponges.

How nice right? NOOO. NOT. COOL.

I. Don't. Know. Their. Names.

Then to make a bad situation worse, one started crying. *I'll allow you to pause here to feel really awkward with me.*

I'm thinking: "Did I miss something here? It's marriage. Not death. Wait. Is someone not telling me something about marriage??"

I didn't know what to do. So I just walked off. Awkwardly of course.

Now I really should write them a thank you note, and check to make sure the one isn't still crying.

And I will.

As soon as a track down those names......

Bad Katie.

Last week, I had to go fight an insurance ticket. I couldn't find the proof of insurance in my car. So the meany-pants cop gave me a ticket. What the cop didn't realize is: NO ONE GIVES KATIE A TICKET.


I showed up in the court waiting room at the little Riverdale police department. And I was asked to to be seated while I waited for my ticket to be checked.

There wasn't much of a choice for seating.

A. Sit by a cute little kid.
     -Wearing handcuffs and feet shackles.
     -Sporting a nice Juvenile Detention uniform.
     -Looks like he's never bathed a day in his life.
     -Smells like he's never bathed a day in his life.
     -Slight chance he may soak his arms in sour milk everyday. Why? I'm sure I'll never know.
SUMMARY: I'm pretty sure the only crime he committed was never showering. Ever. CRIME! Oh the crime we see these days...

B. Sit by a guy.
     -That weighs at least 100 lbs more than the cop sitting in the corner.
     -Also handcuffed and feet shackled
     -(Remind me if I'm wrong, but don't you have to be in some serious trouble to have your feet chained     together??)
     -Sporting a nice prison uniform.
SUMMARY: I had an imagination moment. In a mental battle between this guy and the corner-cop.... the guy killed the corner-cop. I saw it. In my head. This guy was scary.

C. Sit by lady holding baby.
     -Lady hunched over baby. Rocking it. I think the rocking was some sort of.... tick.
     -Talked about when the baby was going to poop.
     -Talked about who would change its pants and other weird things you don't talk to a baby about.
     -Mumbled a lot.
     -Had crazy lady hair. All stringy and grey.
SUMMARY: That. Poor. Baby. I don't know who's it was. Why she was there. Or what she was talking about. But I immediately knew... kidnapper.

Oh the options!!! This was great! I just couldn't decide who to sit by! They all looked like really awesome sitting buddies. And as I stood there trying to decide...

It hit me.


These guys are COOL. Smelly juvenile kid! Huge killer guy! Crazy baby lady! And then.... girl with an insurance ticket. Booo! Hiss! LAME!

So I changed my ticket up a bit.

Awesome Drug Trafficker! Bad Katie...WIN!

Tony Little came to say hi on my last day of work.

Today was my last day of working at Al's Sporting Goods (We don't want everybody's business, just yours). Sad? Pretty much not. Ok ok. I'm gonna miss my Als Pals.  Most of them. Cause I love them so dearly and they've been so good to me. But other than that.... I'm happy to get away from the evil.

Let me repeat: We don't want everybody's business
JUST YOURS!
(So don't bring your friends because
we're pretty sure they're gonna steal something.)

But guess who came to wish me well on my last day of work??

This guy!! Do you recognize him??

NO???

How about if I add his Gazelle machine?

STILL NO??

Ok ok. It's Tony Little! Come on guys! He does infomercials for exercise equipment! He's pretty much a workout equipment superstar!

This was pretty much our interaction today.          

 

Ok I lied. We pretty much just looked at each other lots.

HOW IT REALLY HAPPENED:

He walked into my shoe department and started touching every shoe that was within reach. He's short. First I couldn't stop staring cause I knew that I knew him from somewhere. Then I couldn't stop staring because his hair flowed gorgeously from his workout hat.  My hair will never be that amazing, I thought to myself. Then when I walked up to him and asked if he needed help, I noticed he had a heavy amount of MAKEUP on.

Let the stare off begin.

I starred thinking "Who IS this guy??"

He starred back thinking "I wish I wasn't so famous and ripped!! There's no one that can take their eyes off me!"

After our stare off we became best friends forever.

 

They say he headlocks people he really likes.

*Sigh* The friendship and headlock is also a lie. But a really nice thought...

That friend you have that is more awkward than yourself.

Setting: LIBRARY. In Passing.

Katie: "Hey Bart*! I had a really crazy dream about you last night!!"

Bart: "Oh really? Was it of us making out??"

*Really.     Awkward.      Pause.*

*Name changed cause he's my facebook friend.




Disclaimer: I only dream of making out with Neil.

On the subject of farts.

I hate farts. I think they're gross. Not cute. Not funny. Gross. And I think it's super immature when people talk about them. But in true Katie fashion, I'm going to continue to get annoyed when other people do it, but do it myself anyway.

Fart discussion, go!

The only people I fart openly in front of are my parents and Neil. Because I know they still have to love me unconditionally after it has cleared.

FARTS IN THE PAST:
In my younger years I would sneak one out next to the nearest kid I didn't like.
Target "Cool Dressed 90's Kid That Everyone Likes and No One Thinks Is Weird".
Release gas near "Cool Dressed 90's Kid That Everyone Likes and No One Thinks Is Weird".
Everyone complains about smell.
Loudly exclaim that I heard "Cool Dressed 90's Kid That Everyone Likes and No One Thinks Is Weird" rip it.
Feel cool.
It was my little way of feeling better about the fact that no one liked me and everyone thought I was weird. It's probably how I survived school. That's also probably how I managed to keep my self esteem in tact...knowing I have the power to blame farts on other people.

Me as the uncool 90's child.
Successful at blaming farts on others.
Dressed as a cat.

FARTS ON THIS DAY:
Today, I let a small one loose while alone on the library elevator. I just had to.
Elevator doors open.
I walk out.
People walk in.
I realize I'm on the wrong floor.
I get back on the same elevator with new elevator companions.
*pause*
10 Awkward Seconds in my newly formed "gas chamber" or...erm... unreasonably slow motioned elevator.

"No I swear. It was that little 90's kid in the corner. Seriously."

Me as an uncool 20-year-old.
Lost touch with blaming capabilities.
Still dressed as a cat??

Creeper Defense.

Oh hey creeper/s.

Whoever the has been INSIDE my house peeking through my window...

Whoever the has been standing in my driveway after I park and get out of my car...

Whoever is undoubtedly unstable and has been showing up at my house asking for me...

You should know that I have mace...

...and a rape key chain with an added skull keychain bonus...

...and I sleep with a baseball bat next to my bed.

Also I have a knife somewhere which I can't seem to currently find.

BUT

Try and touch me. I dare you. See what happens.

But really, I'm too busy right now. I've got too much to do. And while smashing a creepers knee caps would only take me seconds... I'd prefer to do it after this semester is over. So just hold off for a bit. Thanks.

One of those "best day ever" type of things.

1. I got released from my Linger Longer calling. In a nut shell, I feed lots of people twice a month in hopes of the end result being: People Fall In Love And Start Baby Making. And while this calling really is fine. With the exception of people complaining: "I hate potatoes." "You got me excited for this?" "Can we have something that is an actual meal? Cookies are too sugary." It was getting old.

Best. Day. Ever.

2. A commercial blew my mind. I'm watching TV. This commercial comes on:

A. I love everything about Victoria's Secret. Looove it.
B. I love everything about M83 - Midnight City. Which is the song they used.
With their powers combine...they make my jaw literally drop. Literally. There's something about good underwear and good music that just make me giddy.

Best. Day. Ever.

3. I made a cake. Like a legit cake. One that actually looks just like the recipe picture.  It tastes good. AND looks good. It's in an effort to become more domesticated so that my fiance oh my gosh I said the F-word doesn't...starve. So now... I can cook cake. That's good. Cake for dinner! ...and lunch and breakfast. Snack too.

Best. Day. Ever.

Sidenote.

The fabulous Levi Sims allowed Jane, Abby, and I to model for the photography class he was teaching. We had to beg. But here was the result:

While I'm pretty upset that I look very homeless and unkept in this picture, I'm mostly upset about the fact that my favorite upper lip mole is edited out. How. Dare. You. 

For reals now. I'm looking for uglier friends.

I really should be a detective.

So you may have heard that my wallet was stolen (in a sense.... like, I definitely didn't leave it on top of my car and drive away in the middle of the Salt Lake Ghetto-homeless-tastic area. I mean, who would be stupid enough to do that??).

So when I ran into the 7-Eleven to buy snacks for work today, I had to bring my checkbook, the only remaining source of money I have.

"Heh. Heh. I only have checks! My wallet was stolen
the other day."

"It was stolen?! That's awful! Who does that these days?"
(Dead Serious. That's what he said.)

5 PROBLEMS WITH CASHIER'S RESPONSE:

1. He looked like he'd stolen a few wallets in his day (maybe, oh I dunno, on Tuesday night in the Salt Lake Ghetto-homeless-tastic area??)

2. His response was VERY sarcastic. (Sarcastic people steal things.) 

3. He was definitely making fun of me. (Mean people steal things too.)

4. After his response, he asked for my ID, which ho ho he he ha ha....is in my wallet. (Which he stole.)

    Which brings me to 5.

5. I'm now positive this man stole my wallet.

"You. Jerk."

Gang Banger.

Today in class we talked about gangs.  So I went home and educated myself more on the subject.

Disclaimer: If you are a gang member just checking up on all your favorite blogs, please note that I am not affiliated with any gang. Nor do I want to be. Nor do I want to be a target for gang violence. Stay away. Thanks in advance. 


I wondered what gangsters do in their free time. Ya know, when they're not dealing drugs, burglarizing, killing, shooting things, scaring people, talkin' gangsta, ya know, the typical gangsta stuff....

The answer?
Watch What Gangsters Do In Their Free Time Here.

Very nice, no? I mean, I find it kinda awesome. "Hi. I'm a gang member. Some of my hobbies include terrorizing my community and making dance videos for youtube." Ah yes. I never knew. Sometimes gangsters...get bored.

And so do I. So how bout this?

Dead serious. I learned this in 30 seconds off a dance tutorial.
About my outfit:
Notice I wore a red shirt with a blue bandanna. 
Then I added a purple hat for extra neutrality. 
Also, my diamond studs are fake. So hands off. 
Bonus, I tried to keep my hand signs as neutral as possible.


About My New-Found Dance Skills:
I learned this from some kid on youtube.
I'm pretty sure he's not affiliated with a gang. He just wishes he was.
Also, I'm pretty sure he mislead me. 
But that's what the youtube kid said. So I followed.

Roller Skatin' Buddy.

I've recently become a big fan of roller skating. It's so cool. Every Tuesday night 8-11 at the Fun Center. Be there. Anyway. The past couple of times I've been there I've noticed a guy that looks super familiar.

Old.

Balding.

Plump.

Kinda like this guy. Minus the hat.

Um. He's one of my old coworkers from Lowe's. Quiet. Seems pretty grumpy. Not into the young, fun-loving scene at all. BUT as far as roller skating goes? He's pretty good. And he gets pretty into it.
I. Would. Have. Never. Guessed.

And tonight I leave with a blown mind, a happy heart and a new hero. Goodnight.

FYouAutoCorrect.

Have you ever been on FYouAutoCorrect.com? Don't. It's mostly a slimy little website. BUT it is devoted to conversations that became awkward after someone's iphone auto-corrected what they were TRYING to say.

For Example:

Ha HA Ho ho! That was funny right? See that little auto-correct mistake that TOTALLY changed the meaning of the sentence?

Well, lucky for me I'm not cool enough to own a smartphone. I'm not even cool enough to desire a smart phone. So while everyone else deals with these horrible auto-correct mishaps, I'm safe. Right? Soooo wrong. Because while everyone deals with these embarrassing little auto-correct mistakes, I'm busy dealing with a much bigger issue: Auto-Correct of the Human Mouth.

A Two-Act Play by Katie Jane Elliott:

Evil Katie Jane and the Sweet, Darling Family

Scene: I was helping a family today at work... a sweet, darling family. 

Sweet, Darling Mother: Hi! Can you help me with some questions I have about shoes?

Evil Katie Jane: Sure!

Sweet, Darling Mother: Well, my Chaco shoes hurt my feet! But I don't know why.

Evil Katie Jane: (Here we insert a slang word for a male appendage, instead of the word Chaco.)          *pause* (Here Katie stops to think "Oh my gosh did I just say that, instead of Chaco??")

Sweet, Darling Mother: (Mouth slowly drops open. Her eyes widen a bit.)

Sweet, Darling Father: (Head shoots up to look at me in surprise.)

Sweet, Darling Children: (Look around in confusion. They don't know what the pause is for or what is going on, or what that word means...yet.)

-----------*Pause of Eternity*-----------(Like long enough for an intermission)-------

Evil Katie Jane: Oh..................... Um.... Well like I was saying those shoes sometimes (here is where I begin to smile) hurt your feet if you're wearing the wrong size (here is where I begin to giggle but try so incredibly hard to be mature and hold it in) or some peoples arches are just bothered by the shape of the shoe blah blah blah..... 

Sweet, Darling Family: (Baffled.)

Evil Katie Jane: (Instant Creeper, Jerk, Mind Polluter.) 

Sweet, Darling Family: (No longer needs help.) They can find help in a more family friendly environment. Hmph!

It. Was. An. Accident.

F You Auto Correct....

Hierarchy of People I Hate On Campus.

Sometimes, people bug me. Sometimes, people on campus bug me. Sometimes (today) I am inspired to drop out so I can follow a dropouts dreams and NOT have to deal with these people.

Hierarchy of Campus Travelers:
1. People of Walking Descent

Aw. Look how hot she is! The hottest
people walk (like me, right? maybe?).

2. Those That Bike

Ignore the fact that this is clearly Miley
Cyrus. Ok. Now. Bikers are cool.

3. Skateboarders

They're hot (no, not as hot as Neil), and they usually
know what they're doing.

4. Longboarders

Longboarders are at a 50/50 point right now.
Half of the USU campus knows how to longboard.
And the other half is just painful to watch.
Cause they don't know what they're doing.
Or how to stop.
Also, -10 points if you use a stick.
You're lazy.

5. Those That Are Talented At Scootering

Do you remember that time you got a scooter when you were
5? Do you remember that time that you realized you're now
20-something? Yea, most people on campus haven't
 realized that either. 

6. He/She Who Must Unicycle

Blah. I swear no one cares that you only
have one wheel. Also, no one is impressed
when you fall on other humans.

7. Those That Ripstick

"Oh hey there! I'm just walking on
the sidewalk. In a straight line.
I hope I'm not in the way of your
wobbling... Sorry about that."

8. The Stand Up Tricycle Guy
There's really no picture to describe this guy.
But I will say this: Huge Tricycle. Takes up
the entire sidewalk. Forces everyone else to 
walk on grass. Thanks, Tricycle man. Really.

Let's Revolutionize the way we walk. Ok?

So I hate walking from campus to home. Bleh. But today I realized that we all do something funny when we walk.

See this? See how my right foot is out and my left arm is swinging out at the same time? I promise, seconds later my left foot and right arm will be out. We all do it.

WHY DO WE DO IT??

 

I'm sure there's a logical, biological, Newtons laws of motion, yada yada yada, reason for it. But I'm still saying "No more." Time for a walking revolution.

REFER TO IMAGES FOR THE WALKING REVOLUTION:

1. Left foot out, left arm out.

2. Right foot out, right arm out. 

I tried this new walking style out as I walked the rest of the way home today. Success. I tripped a few times. But for the most part, people were pretty impressed. I could just tell.

You can join too. Revolutionize something for the better. That's what we're supposed to be doing in our young, prime youth. Making the world a better place. Making the world a better place to WALK.

Life Calling. Found.

This is inappropriate for facebook. Probably too inappropriate to post here as well. Meh. Stick your small children in a safe closet somewhere before attempting to view this.


Click Here to View Heather.










That's right kids. I'm going to be a Taxidermy Model.

Just Friends

I've always REALLY enjoyed "friend zone". Do I want to be your girlfriend? Never. But I WILL be your friend! Maybe.

Story time:

Once upon a time, I noticed that a boy at school was watching me. Not like "Girl, I'm checkin' you out!" watching. But the "I'm standing behind a pole and hoping you don't notice that I'm totally lurking 10 feet away from you" watching. This continued for about a week with variations in structures to lurk behind (Ex: "I'm sitting behind a bench and hoping you don't notice that I'm totally lurking 10 feet away from you." OR "I'm sitting in your music practice room with your violin. You left to get a drink. I just turned the lights out and sat in the corner. I'm waiting for you to come back. Oh, and I'm hoping you don't notice I'm here."). Now my little (NOT actually little at all) lurky friend had some...different things going on. He punched windows out at school... sometimes. And he heard satan in his head telling him to do stuff... lots of times.  So when he finally got up the courage to come out from behind his lurking spot and ask me to the Homecoming dance... I....wasn't sure... if that was his idea...or satans. Either way, God was on top of that already and had found me a date 2 weeks previously.


Now I'd LOVE to share more stories. Because believe me. I have them. My current issue, however, is I'm afraid my other "stories" happen to be followers of this blog. So if you're reading this and you're thinking:

"Ha Ha Ha! Katie and I had some lurky times!" OR "Me and Katie are 'Just Friends'"

Then chances are: I have a lurky story about you. Sorry.

Now. Neil? In his little boy shorts? His long pointy nose hair? His Indian Jones hat? Muscle tight shirt?  Super "Friend Zone" potential? That's what I was going for. Sure didn't happen that way now did it? Cause he's so gosh darn cute I can hardly stand it. I love this boy.

Friend Zone? Neil? Never. This boy don't DO friend zone.

This is a White Limo.

This is the ever-so-popular Wild Bill.

This is the Logan Temple.

This is me (a while ago with shorter hair).
What do all these things have in common? I dunno. But these pictures summarize my night. So. That was weird. 

...oh just being a minority in my own house.

Meo finally got back from her month long trip across Asia. Which is nice. Because my house smells like Asia again. I'd almost forgotten what that smelled like. Almost.

Anyway, she brought her little 17 year old brother to stay. Not for a night like she had originally told me. But 3 nights. Ok whatever. But I've discovered I like this little brother a lot. He's a pimp.

Totally stole this.

REASONS I LIKE CU (PHUONG TUAN LA):
1. He asks how my day was. I realized that all Vietnamese learned to say "How was your day?" Which is what he and Meo always ask every time I walk in the door. It's an automatic response. Like, he was all jet-lagged-out on the sofa when I got home yesterday. But no. That doesn't stop Cu. He popped his head up and asked, "How was your day?"
2. He doesn't own a white button up shirt. He had to wear a women's button up shirt to church. And I thought it was funny. He didn't. His poor little head hung as he walked out the door to go to church.
3. He has a pillow shaped like a dog bone. I'm not sure why I'm amused by that...
4. He helps clean up. Our sink leaked tonight. I'm pretty sure he thought it was his fault. So he cleaned it up. I let him think it was his fault. 
5. He likes Westlife. A 90's boy band that is totally unbeatable. Westlife- Seasons In The Sun. You should probably check them out. 
6. He is better at arguing in person. Many a night have a woken up to Meo verbally abusing someone in Vietnamese. Guess who. Yes, poor little Cu on Skype. But now that they're face to face and he manages to be a head taller than her... I think he's got the upper hand in their loud Vietnamese sibling rivalry. 

I really hope that Meo doesn't notice that I've been blogging about her brother. Also, I hope that Cu doesn't notice either. After all, we ARE officially facebook friends.

New game.

Ever try to take a picture? But there are too many people in the way? And no one will move? And you're frustrated cause you just want YOU in the picture?

Don't worry about it anymore. Because chances are, the people in the background are more interesting than you.

Long legged old man!

A quaker family!

Boy on a rock!

Ironing Board. And David's head.

I don't iron much/at all.

But I bought the coolest ironing board ever.
First thing I ironed?

David's (Neil's little brother) head on a pillowcase.

It was for Katie's (Neils little sister) birthday.
Hope it was a good one Katie.

Edward Sharpe. And all of his Magnetic Zeros.

Just a normal conversation at the Twilight Series Concert in Salt Lake City:
"Oh hello!


Do you like weed?
Cool.


Do you like to smoke weed while standing right next to me?
Cool.


Do you like getting thrown up on?
Obviously. Because that's what will happen if you try to smoke next to me."


Yes yes. It's true. I was at the Twilight Concert Series to watch Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. And while there is the periodic challenge with 14-year-olds lighting the pipe, it can't dampen my spirits. Especially when I'm watching one of the best bands ever.

All rights and stuff go to Cait Christensen. (I stole it.)

Yes, the band is weird. And extremely hippie. And there's like 13 people in the band (I'm sure at least one of them is paid to stomp his foot, because there is no other job left for him to do.) But I love them.

Especially Jade. Now, she IS crazy. "We're on a saucer in space looking at the stars!" Really crazy. "Let's have a round of applause for being alive!" But she's so dang cute!

So are these people.

Last thing:

This is my dad. He's not that fat.
Really. I just like the picture.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD. 

Discouraging Relief Society Lessons.

Today, I found a piece of paper on the floor of my car.

It looked like this:

It had fallen out of my scriptures after I had put it there a very long time ago. It was from one of the standard Singles Ward Relief Society lessons. Ya know? Those ones where you list every very important detail of what you MUST HAVE in a husband? Yes. It was one of THOSE lists from THOSE lessons.

I had carefully written out every detail: physical appearance, education, career, talents, spirituality, interests, ect. I didn't forget a single thing.

(But then our standard Relief Society teacher threw us a twist.)


The teacher asked us to change our list title from: "FUTURE HUSBAND" to "ME". The point of this was to show us that we need to have everything we expect of our future spouses. We can't expect someone to have all of these attributes if we are not willing or able to gain them ourselves. Which is great! Honestly.

But as I looked through my list today, I was shocked. Horrified. Sick. It hit me. I will never be married. I will never have a husband. How could I expect so much from my spouse?!

I can't grow a mustache.

Hooters.

I really like hot wings. Like. There isn't a plate of hot wings I won't eat.

*sigh of satisfaction*

Lately, I've been way into the Hooters hot sauce. Yes. Yes you can totally buy it at the grocery store. 

HOWEVER, I feel weird when someone walks up to me and says:

"Hey! Those hot wings look good! What's the recipe?"

And I say:

"I just use Hooters."

And they instantly get this image:

"No no no.... you really CAN just buy it at the grocery store."