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Hi! I'm Arianne. I'm a technical writer by day, painter/baker/short-story writer by night. Oh, and I love cats.
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Friday, September 30, 2011

I Almost Ruined My Life This Week

I have a problem. And this problem is called being overly rational. And while normally its not such a bad thing, there is a small part of me that always wants to be rash. Occasionally, the rash part of me gets so sick of being shut down by my rational side that it tries to stage a coup. This usually results in my feeling so bored that I come up with a crazy plan that I'm completely serious about doing. And then I call my mom to tell her about my "awesome" plan and then she (thankfully) talks me out of it. And then the coup is defeated and I go back to Logical-Land.

Unfortunately, my rash side has gotten smarter. It waited until my mom was on a cruise in Mexico so that I couldn't reach her when my rationality was under siege.

I became convinced that it was a fantastic idea to proclaim to all the internet that I was interested in a boy. I wrote the blog post. I used his name. I was going to tag him in it on facebook. It was really well written, actually. It was full of humor and wit and whatnot, and if you had read it, I would have been your hero. Seriously, you would have had your fist in the air, shouting "Yeah!"

Actually, it was published for two whole minutes. And I was on facebook, in the act of tagging him to the link, when the guy my friend was on the phone with told her to stop me. Thank you, guy-on-the-phone! If it wasn't for him, I would have been the talk of Provo. I would have had to hide in my house so as to avoid crazy looks from passerby. It would have been pretty bad. And the worst part is that I still kinda want to do it.

I really wish I could post it without incurring the aforementioned social wrath so that you all could see what a crazy state of mind I was in. I guess the best way that I can describe it to you is this.

In other news, those of you who are friends with me on facebook probably saw this status:

"Dear British Boy talking next to me in the library,

I'm having a LOT of trouble concentrating on my homework instead of your awesome accent.... But it's ok. No, really. Keep talking.

You probably thought it was kinda funny. I meant it to be. You probably thought to yourself "Oh, that silly Arianne. What an excellent diversion for 5 seconds of my life."

All I have to say to that is, "But wait, there's more!"

Yesterday, one of my coworkers told me a story. The story went something like this:

Once upon a time a girl named Arianne posted a status
on facebook about a cute British boy distracting her with
his accent in the library. Arianne's friend A-----, who was
also in the library, saw this status and thought, "hmm,
I have a British friend of the male variety, how funny!"
And then A----- looked around and saw Arianne sitting in
the corner. And then she looked to the right of Arianne
and saw her British friend sitting next to her. And then
A----- proceeded to message said boy on facebook and
encourage him to say "Sorry for distracting you, Arianne!"
And he did and they lived happily ever after.

Well, that last sentence was a lie. Although A----- told him to, he did not apologize to me for being so distracting. But wouldn't that have been hilarious if he had? I would have been properly shocked and mortified. It would have made a fantastic most-embarrassing-moment story.

I remember there being a lot more that I wanted to say in this post, but now I can't remember any of it. Typical.

Friday, September 23, 2011

A Post About Fashion?? Weird...

Girls, I want to reintroduce something to you. It's called a "scrunchie," and it is Heaven's gift to hair. Scrunchies are fun, poofy, and they don't make an ugly line in your hair like regular hair ties do. I never stopped wearing scrunchies, 'cause I think they're fan-freaking-tastic, but it seems like the fashion world is catching on as well. I mean look at these:

zakka-style scrunchie
So cute!

And I just ordered this one from Tilly's last night:


I'm just saying, if you want to be as wonderfully fashion forward as I am (the girl who wishes she could wear overalls all the time so she wouldn't have to worry about her pants falling down anymore), you will run off to the store and buy yourself some scrunchies, pronto. And if you don't, that's ok too, cause I'll keep the industry alive with my scrunchie needs alone.

Also, does anyone know where I could find some super cute cowgirl boots? I can't find good ones ANYWHERE. It makes me cry.

Monday, September 19, 2011

8 Reasons Why Cows Are My Favorite


1. They're black and white, as is everything that is sophisticated and classy.

2. They make funny noises.

3. They're funnily shaped.

4. They appreciate jazz music.

5. They have excellent dance moves.

6. From cows we get cheese. And ice cream. And hamburgers (sorry, cows!).

7. You CANNOT tip cows. It's a myth. But I didn't use to know that and I wanted to tip a cow really REALLY badly.

8. Cows and people often exhibit strange similarities.
  • For example, tonight I helped set up the ward opening social. All of the people were scattered across the yard, but when we start putting out the food, all of a sudden everyone started converging into one giant mass, staring at the food and pawing at the ground, waiting for us to step away so that they could bury their faces in the trough. And there was groaning.
  • Cows have more than one stomach. And while many of you might be under the impression that humans do not have more than a single stomach, my friend, W-----, assures me that we do. Our second stomach is called the "desert stomach," and it explains why after we've eaten three days worth of turkey and stuffing on thanksgiving and don't think we could possibly eat another bite, we're suddenly hungry again when the pie is brought out.
  • Cows have herds. People totally have herds too.
  • British cows/ people are automatically cooler than cows/ people from other places.
This is a shaggy British cow! See! Automatically cooler.

Friday, September 16, 2011


It's my mom's birthday! And I've got some stuff I want to say:

Mom, thanks for everything. Thanks for all the time and energy you spent on me. Thanks for being my taxi for 18 years. Thanks for always giving it to me straight. Thanks for loving Dad. Thanks for being a mom instead of just someone with money and food. Thanks for being my best friend. Thanks for watching PBS shows with me. Thanks for teaching me to love reading. Thanks for teaching me how to cook. Thanks for teaching me what kind of soap goes in the dishwasher. Thanks for teaching me how to do laundry. Thanks for loving to travel. Thanks for teaching me honesty. Thanks for teaching me modesty. Thanks for letting us have dogs even though they're a pain. Thanks for letting us have a cat so we could see how much better they are than dogs. Thanks for teaching me to have plan b's. Thanks for not making me shave my head when I got lice. Thanks for trying my whole life at home to teach me to be clean and organized. I know you never thought I'd figure it out, but I finally have! ... can you come down and teach everyone else now please? Thanks for wanting me to have parties and then not making me have any more after
that one time. Thanks for telling me I need to "step it up" with my flirting exertions- you're right haha. Thanks for wanting me to have cute clothes. Thanks for conning me into getting rid of all my old high school t-shirts. Thanks for encouraging me to move on when I messed up. Thanks for liking to paint pottery with me. Thanks for telling me not to panic and that I still have time to figure out what to do with my life. Thanks for taking me to get my hair fixed after I tried to cut my own bangs. Thanks for not calling them "little house on the prairie bangs" like the hair stylist did. Thanks for always wanting to fight anyone that's ever hurt me. Thanks for teaching me to be tough. Thanks for letting me be silly sometimes.

Mom, sorry for everything. Sorry that I rejected all of the clothes that you suggested in middle school without even looking at them. Sorry that my room was never clean after the day that you had me clean it. Sorry that I always tried to get out of doing dishes. Sorry that I didn't clean the litter box every week like I was supposed to. Sorry that I stopped growing in the 6th grade and you lost the bet with dad. Sorry that I said the other day that there was no way I was going to get married the same day as you and dad 'cause you got married in freaking January; it's actually kinda growing on me now. Sorry that I broke Great Grandma's vase that one time in Kentucky. Sorry that I always figured out the passwords that you put on the TV. Sorry that I thought you were completely insane when you said you liked to clean. Sorry that I said your shoes looked like a witch's shoes. Sorry that I steal your socks and slips. Sorry that I can't spend as much time in a museum as you can. Sorry that we'll never figure out how to make Grandma's bread like she does. Sorry that I didn't say all this stuff a long time ago.

Sorry that you couldn't be everyone's mom.

Thanks for being mine.

Sunday, September 11, 2011


Today I went to my old ward so that I could play games with one of my favorite people in the world, J-----, and one of our guys friends from last year. The playing games part was fun. Going to my old ward was... surreal. There were a lot of people there that I knew, but I wasn't in their ward anymore. I didn't feel as connected. Add that to the fact that the ward has like 70 new people, and I felt completely out of place. It was like I was just there to observe, a fly on the wall looking into this new edition of the 22nd ward.

I went home and shook it off, and then my friends and I decided to walk to the Marriot Center for the CES fireside. We were walking through campus, when all of a sudden this guy walks out of the pathway next to us, AND I KNOW HIM. It's the little brother of my friend that I've known since kindergarten! I KNOW HIM!

And before I can stop myself, I yell, "D----- -----!" He whips around, looks at me, looks super confused, and then says, "...Yes?" (that awkward moment when you recognize someone and they don't recognize you back)
And then I say, "I'm Arianne Glick!"
Luckily, that jogged his memory, because how awkward would that have been if it hadn't? And really, it was impressive that he even remembered my name, considering we hadn't even talked since he was like 5. And then I was really super awkward. The whole time. What do you even say in that situation? "How's life been since you were five?" I had kept in touch with my friend, his brother, but all I really could remember about D----- was that he had said his favorite him was Jesus, not realizing we were talking about hymns.

So yeah. It was awkward, and my friends were staring which was awkward. AWKWARD. And I quickly skidaddled (skaddadled? skadaddled? skiddaddled? HOW THE HECK DO YOU SPELL THAT??) out of there.

Finally, we get to the Marriot Center and find some seats. The two seats next to me are being saved by another group. I don't really think about it at all until the girls that the seats are being saved for. They're doing the awkward shuffle-past down to there seats, and I look at one of the girls as she passes, AND I KNOW HER. It's my roommate from freshman year! The one that my friend from kindergarten dubbed Harpoon H----- because of her love of pirates! And I yell, "H-----!" And luckily, she recognizes me and stuff. And we play a little catch up, and it's fine and cool and really good to talk to her.

But this whole day I've felt like my past is just colliding with my present. Everything is normal and then BAM! it's someone I haven't talked to in FOREVER and all these memories and feelings of de ja vu are smothering me and I feel like the next thing I know, I'll be 7 years old all of a sudden and reliving everything.

So, yeah. Today was weird. And now I'm hiding in my room, because if I run into my old choir teacher next or something I might implode.

Friday, September 9, 2011

One More Thing

Whose idea was it to style poor Miss Kosovo's hair like this for the Miss Universe photo shoot?

She looks like Megamind.

Megamind movie poster

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

A Small Look into My Brain

What is up with everyone wearing those feathers in their hair? They're not even cute peacock feathers, they look like they were plucked off of pheasants. Whenever I see a girl with one of those stupid feathers, it makes me think of this:

(skip to 3:42)

Also, my new house has been having a lot of scary spiders lately. My roommate says it's cause they're looking around for mates. Which is extra scary. When my fear of giant spiders was combined with my fear of criminals caused by me watching the new episode of Inspector Lewis this weekend, I spent Sunday night afraid that something like this was going to attack me:

(skip to 2:41)

Also, every time I look at my professor for ENGL 291, all I can think about is how he strangely looks like this guy


and this guy


all at once. It's weird.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

College Students Say The Darnest Things

Alright, everyone, let's have a little flashback to that time that you watched "Mean Girls". Forget about how it was often raunchy and crude, and focus in on all the little hidden truths in there. Like how girls really can be MEAN. And how sometimes you can be best friends with someone one year and the next year they accuse you of being a lesbian and then steal your silly little Santa Claus Girl dance routine. And how no one is really sure what second cousins are. And sometimes, people have something called "word vomit". (note: I want to assure all of my readers as I just had to assure my mom that there isn't anyone being mean to me and that no one has called me a lesbian and stolen my dance routine. It's from the movie.)

vomiting pumpkin cake!

I have word vomit quite a lot actually. Some people give it another name; they say I'm "blunt". They don't always mean it in a good or funny way either. Oops.

Sometimes being blunt helps keep me honest and reduces miscommunication. Sometimes though, word vomit just makes me look stupid. Like today.

Today, I had my student development class. It's supposed to help me choose a career and then figure out how to get it. So that's handy. We were all going around introducing ourselves, and we had to say something
REALLY unique about ourselves. Seriously, if the professor didn't think it was unique enough, he made you keep talking until you said something more satisfactory. I said that I was a descendant of Old King Cole. He didn't think that was quite enough, and he asked me to give them some more details on that. And I couldn't stop it. I tried to keep that word vomit in, but it just spewed out of my mouth for the whole class to hear, "Well, all I know is that he's my ancestor and that he was a merry old soul."

Yeah. I said that. He stopped pestering me after that.

Old King Cole Illustration

It's ok though, 'cause right after that a guy got up and said that for fun he had a giant tire in his backyard that he likes to push from one end to the other. Over and over again. Yep.