vests of the furry nature

I am a lot of things. Left-handed, loud (rarely), sarcastic (rarely), and Ann just told me I was high maintenance. So take that with a grain of salt. One thing I am not: daring. Or, to show off my newfound GRE vocabulary, audacious. I don't like putting myself out there or being different or doing new things or meeting new people or blahblah you get the picture. Because of this lack of audacity, I have a wardrobe that consists mostly of gray clothing. As my sister puts it, I wear b-o-r-i-n-g clothes. 

Sorry that I think the color gray is fantastic and goes well with my coloring! What does that say about my coloring? My dad does say my eyes are "mossy stone"... I also am terrified of accessorizing because well earrings are the opposite of boring so I couldn't possibly wear those. So there, now you know just how boring my boring gray boring wardrobe is. 

That all changed today. Today I became fearless! Daring! I walked right up to Mr. Audacious and linked arms with him and walked away with my head held high. Did I mention I was wearing my newly purchased fur vest when I walked away? 

MLE say whaaaat? Yep, you nay-sayers (it's faux fur so let's all take a chill pill) can kiss my fur because I bought one and I am sportin' it harder than Billy Ray Cyrus sported/continues to sport a mullet. Or Michael Jackson sported a single sequined glove. Or Joseph sported his coat of many colors.

Enough with the analogies. Just know that I am wearing it right now with my jammies. Because everyone knows it is tres important to break in fur. 

rawr. Also, high five on the taking pics of myself. That is so 2003 and MySpace-y.

p.s.--New York tomorrow which means Book of Mormon soon which means cold weather soon which means I should probably wear my new meow vest soon. 

Also, as I began writing this post I asked my dad and sister what adjectives they would use to describe me. This is how that went down:

Dad: Funny. Brilliant. Smart. Wonderful daughter.

Ann: High maintenance. Annoying. Oh, (hearing Dad) uh...amazing. 

Ann, too late you can never borrow my not boring awesome furry vest. Dad, you are more than welcome to it anytime. 

birthdays and other days too

It's that time of the week again. Where I write a blog post (post a blog? write a post on my blog? what is the right blog lingo?) (?!?!) and link it up all over the internet and y'all pretend to read it. Let's get this started!

It is actually the time of the week where I am going crazy trying to write a paper about the relation between democracy and education and I am so tired of word vomming all over my paper that I thought word vomming all over this blog would be slightly more ideal. Are we in agreement? Yes? Like my vommed sentence?

I could write on about school-y things like homework. Or tests. I hate tests and I had one today, by the way. Or I could write about how I miss my little babies on whom I sat. so. badly. Especially on days when I have tests. Or I could write about dance-y things like how my body is always so sore. Especially on days when I have tests AND rehearsals.  OR I could write about really exciting things like birthdays and other (slightly less) exciting things like finally getting a Scoutmob app for Blackberry. 

YES, YOU HEARD ME. SCOUTMOB + BLACKBERRY. !!!! !!!! !!!! but this is the less exciting thing so let's move on...

Freddie had a birthday. Excuse me, did you hear me? FREDDIEFRIEND + BIRTHDAY WEEKEND !!! !!!!! Mr. Frederick made my birthday extra special so I was on a mission to make his extra extra special. With cherries on top and all that stuff. Annoyingly so to the point where Freddie was probably like, dude calm down. Just let me be and celebrate my birthday. And I was like, NO. I am obviously taking over your birthday weekend. You will like it! But hey, we made it through the weekend which included all levels of fun things like:

• the Braves playing terribly but us having good seats hence good views of Star Wars people. 
• eating fried fish, hush puppies galore, and ice cream cake all in one day.
• eating a giant slice of birthday cake on another day.

Okay, let me just say, Freddie ate more cake. But I definitely benefited cake wise because of his birthday so, he should have a birthday celebration more often. Probably, definitely. 

The best part of birthday weekend? It is that the celebration gets to carry on all the way until October 1, baby. Party pants on for two more weeks! 

I, unfortunately, do not have paparazzi following me around taking pictures of everything I do. Nor am I good at trying to remember to be part of the paparazzi. So while I do not have any pictures at the moment showcasing Freddiefriend's birthday preciousness I do have this picture:

Not only does this picture showcase how awesome Star Wars night was at the Braves game, but you can just imagine Freddie's cuteness birthday-ness sitting beside me as I took this picture. 

You're picturing it aren't you? I thought I heard some dawwww-ing. Pretty cute birthday boy, right?

Happy Birthday to my Freddiefriend! I can't imagine a moore fun way to celebrate (everyday) than with you!

You say Father, I say Pater

Did you know today was Father's Day? For those of you living in a bubble and/or cave, probably not. The good thing for y'all is that I'm writing about it! On my blog! It's being updated! Happy Father's Day, yay!

How could I not post about my lovely daddy-o on Father's Day? (Especially since I had a whole post dedicated to my mommy-o on Mother's Day...) (For the record Russ, I only posted Mom's post because I had planned all along to write you a beautiful [handsome] Father's Day blog post and thought MC might feel left out if I didn't do one for her on Mother's Day.) (DAD DON'T READ THIS NEXT LINE---Mom, if you're reading this don't worry, I'm only kidding with that last comment.)

I have this really really adorable picture sitting on my dresser. Russ Moore and I are in it so that partially explains the adorableness factor. The rest of it comes from the way Russ Moore is looking at his little newborn baby girl. I would post that picture here for y'all to enjoy and "ooh" and "ahh" over, however I have been informed from some of my immediate family members that I am not Russ Moore's baby girl because Ann is his baby girl. This confuses me since I was the firstborn girl and obviously his favorite baby, but whatever. Let's take a look at another picture of Russell holding his (not) baby girl...

Dad hasn't changed a bit, by the way.  Same haircut? CHECK. Same smile everytime he sees his (not) baby girl? CHECK.

Dad, or Pater as we call him (look it up all you non-Latin speakers), puts up with a lot living with three girls. And he loves it, of course. Examples of daily conversations:

"Are you really going to wear that?"

"Brown and brown and brown don't match."

"Brown and brown and navy and black don't match."

"How did you ever survive without an iPhone?"

"Pater, did you hear that last question or were you too busy looking at your iPhone?"

"Dad...Dad...Dad..."  [grabs iPhone]

"PLEASE KILL THE ROACH! PLEASE! WHY ARE YOU WALKING SO SLOW?!?!!? RUN! DAAAAD, FASTER!"

"Are you sure you killed it and aren't just lying to shut us up?"

Oh, I forgot the most important one----- "Pater, we LOVE you!!" We add that one in after all the other ones, of course. So nice.

Pater, I love you. Or, ILY. (that's cool FB/texting lingo that my dad likes to use.) IASHTYAMD. (I am so happy that you are my dad). There is no one else that I would have wanted to drive me around at 1 am trying to get me to fall asleep. There is no one else that would have eaten Sloppy Joes with me. There is no one else that I would have wanted to teach me how to tie my shoes, or ride my bike, or parallel park. There is no one else that would sit around and put up with the constant love and attention (and occassional fashion help) of three girls. 

Remember, we're laughing with you, not at you. :)