How to lose at least 3 facebook friends a day.

This week I've still been a little upset over my name change. Johnson. Yea.

But then I realized how easy it is to make fun of others names.

They say a bully is someone that puts people down because they actually feel bad about themselves. 

And yea. I make fun of names. Because I feel bad about my common name. 

But by being a bully and undoubtedly pissing people off, suddenly, I didn't feel bad about my name anymore. 

Johnson? You're ok.

Captain Obvious comments on blogs.

I've had some anonymous posts on my blog lately that haven't been so nice. I delete them... because I don't want it to become a trend. I need self esteem you guys...

Emo hair. Emo face.

But I thought I'd just address this anonymous blogger now. He/she/it/gangster's most recent comment was how I am a racist small town mormon girl that doesn't know anything.

While I'm not racist. I'd say everything else highlighted in his/her/it/gangster's anonymous post is OBVIOUS.

So thanks for pointing that out. Duh. I'm trying to be like Jesus but I hope you feel dumb.

P.S. I'm listening to Lil Mama. Doin' the G-Slide. Not racist. 

What a nice gangster.

I have a cold. Which sucks.

Even worse when you have to work an 8 hour shift in a tiny little mall kiosk. Even worse when you have a sneeze face like mine.
Observe.

Before I go any further, I'll need you to observe this picture also. Because it's a G like this (but thug-ier) that happened to be pimp walking through the mall just after my sneeze face had formed.

We made eye contact. He stopped. "Wasss your problem?"

Crap. I gave the gangster a funny look.

Now if you're familiar with stereotypical gangsters and have ever watched a movie about gangsters, you'll know this is the part where he pulls out his 9mm glock and starts shooting. Killing me dead.

With this in mind, I began to duck behind my kiosk. Planning my escape. He was coming closer. (Important sidenote: mall cops are useless.) He reached my counter.

"Girl, wass your problem?"
"I...uh... I just have a cold. I'm about to sneeze."
"D*** girl. How long you work?"
"Till 6..."
"Sheesh! That's a long shift. I hope you get feelin' better. Take care!"

Then he pimp walked off. Just like that.

Did I mention that I never judge people by their looks? And I'd NEVER assume a nice young man in his baggy clothes and do-rag would ever shoot me.

What a nice gangster.

P.S. I liked your gang tats. Fo realz.

I'm really into killing things.

Kinda. Ok not really at all. 


I've been working at the Browning kiosk in the Ogden mall. Annnd I don't really hunt. At all. But I promised my boss (Neil's kind cousin) that I'd dress the part. Ya know. In order to gain customer's trust and make more money.

Hunter orange 100%-animal-killing cotton hoodie.
Paired with a hick vest.

Denim suit. Paired with an I-love-guns style coyote howling shirt.
Hunters always trust people in denim suits.

Oversized Indian/Wolf t-shirt. I was hoping the hot indian
lady would draw in more male cliental. Besides, they don't
care if stuff fits...

I went all out. Glamour deer shirt. Paired with real fur. Hunters don't like
the fake stuff. They can spot a fake hunter from a mile away
(with their Bushnell Excursion 8x42 binoculars).
And I, children, am no fake hunter.

I didn't make Neil's cousins any money.

The adventures of being a housewife.

"Stupid title. Being a house wife is boring and not adventurous. Housewives get fat and boring. And none of their single friends like them anymore." That's what you're thinking.

WHAT YOU'RE THINKING IS WRONG.   WRONG.        WRONG.

BEING A HOUSEWIFE IS HARD. And it's only been like three days...

Like the other day.... I had to go buy a bag of flour. And the bag was really heavy. And no one would come help me. Cause I had a ring on my finger. And then I got up to the counter and the lady over charged me by 2 dollars. 2 DOLLARS! Are you kidding me?! So I got up in her face. I was like "Look lady. I'm married now. And I'm watching my budget like a killer hawk. So give me my 2 dollars back so that I can afford breakfast tomorrow." I had to crawl to my car after that. That experience took a lot out of me.

Just hauling the flour to my pantry. SUPER. HARD.

I'm having an identity crisis because I have to sign everything "Katie Jane Johnson" instead of "Katie Jane Elliott". Identity crisis' are hard. Especially when you have a new name like Johnson. FUN FACT: Johnson happens to be the second most common last name in the United States.  It takes me 4 minutes to sign Johnson in cursive. It is WAY exciting.

House chores are mind blowingly intense. Especially since I turned them into "Housewife Olympics", in order to convince Neil that I'm a good housewife. Housewife Olympics are hard. Speed ironing. Long jump bed making. Heavy weight box lifting. They're all intense games and I continue to improve my personal best. It's really crazy.

Neil relaxing on his freshly made bed.
Little does he know, a few short hours ago I
was sweating it out with my long jump
bed making. 

I know that a lot of you are sad that you aren't married. I understand that's all you wish for everyday. And I know that hearing about all my exciting adventures and intense moments just make you desire it even more. Sorry bout that. Maybe someday soon you will be racing to have a lavish breakfast ready for your husband who woke up 40 minutes late to eat just in the nick of time. And you will think to yourself "My life is so exciting."