ju is 25 and fabulous exclamation point.

i've been looking for an inspiring story that would adequately translate into a good story for journaling purposes. and i believe that i have found one. (i mean, not all of us can make toe fungus interesting like rachel can.) wait for it...this is a good one.

so the ju turned 25 and of course we had an extravaganza! everything with julie is an extravaganza. it basically equated to dinner and possibly some going out afterwards. well we were only going to the blue goose and the caliber of people we were going with are not necessarily "dress-up-even-when-it's-totally-unnecessary" kind of people. however i just happen to fall into this category. so sue me, i had gotten a new dress recently. and btw, it's awesome. and i wanted to wear it. so this dress....it's BRIGHT pink. and let's just say it aint no "church dress". i probably wont be prancing around granny's house in it. it may or may not be a little low cut... and it's a little too short for the baby jesus on a sunday morning. so i fix my huur-a. do my nails. makeup is lookin fly. (i told you people...it was an extravaganza!!!...plus, with my current job and current uniform, which you should all know how i feel about that...i look for ANY excuse to dress up.) anyways, i was having on of those "on" kind of nights. everything just kind of fell in place and i'm feeling good. so on this particular night, i'm running a little late. (i know, surprise surprise) but i had a good reason. i made julie a killer cake! (it just took a little longer than expected to make) it was awesome. i was also very proud of the cake. i'm thinking this is going to be a good night. so i quickly drive to the restaurant. and i had to park kind of in the boonies because there was no parking and as previously stated...i was running late so any open spot would have done just fine. so i get out of the car and i'm carrying the cake waitress style. believe me...i was hard to miss. girl in hot pink quasi-revealing dress (did i mention the front of this is almost completely covered in pink rhinestones?....the dress is good. it just is.) and i'm also carrying a big hot pink cake. so as i walk to the restaurant in heels that were probably too high for this night i pass some cops who seem very interested in my cake, we make friends, i pass by another restaurant, and i pass by the side of the building where there are restaurant patrons dining outside. they all see the dress, they all see the cake. so i walk into the restaurant and immediately see ju and crew, and i walk towards them and julie jumps up to see the cake and we hug and scream and generally cause a scene. i mean come on, get all your college roommates on! it was a ruckus. but as im hugging julie for probably the 4th time, i feel someone pulling on my dress behind me. like....tugging on it. it's a slinky dress...it doesnt need to be pulled at. but as i turn right around to deck the alleged tugger....i see that it was a male waiter and he's walking away and doesnt say a word. finally he turns around and puts his finger to his lips as to say "shhh".... and then it hits me. my entire life flashes before my eyes....and by entire life, i mean the last five minutes. and i realize what has just occurred. when i was getting into my car, i failed to remember that i had two yellow velcro rollers sitting in my driver seat. and when i got out of the car, they stuck to me. i quickly turned around the entire radius of the restaurant and saw that they all had seen what happened. they had seen me in all my glory with not one, but two yellow rollers stuck to my ass!!! julie and crew had no idea what was going on. they hadnt gotten a good view of the back side yet. so remember how i was telling you that it was such an "on" night, and everything was falling into place, and i was feeling good. yeah...that is pretty much where that line of thinking stopped. this now means that the cops, the people at the other restaurant, the outside dining restaurant patrons, and anyone else in eye shot of the girl in the overly pink rhinestone dress and hot pink cake has seen me, the dress, the cake, and the rollers.

later the waiter returned my rollers to me in a styrofoam to-go cup. very discreet....there really wasnt any need to do so though...everyone saw. everyone knew i was the girl with the rollers. is it bad that my first thought was...."oh this will be a great journal story". so there you go katie hall (p.s. can i tell you how much i loved that you signed your name as such. not just katie. not just katie bentley. katie hall.)

the end.


p.s. does anyone know....is chris brown legal yet? get your cougar on!

i need a hot girl.

alright. i got my acl tickets... so now i will start posting again. (thanks chris) ok, so people ask me all the time "whats the craziest thing thats happened on a flight?.... i bet you have some crazy airplane stories" ....and while i wish this was true.... since 9/11.... people pretty much have cut out the crazy shenanigans.... however... there is just no concealing "weird", "intoxicated", "annoying", and my personal favorite..... "white trash". amanda believes that all the white trash people got together, had a convention, and decided that the dolphin would become their universal mascot... to be badly tattooed on various (and might i add, obvious) body parts, to be sold as dollar store trinkets, and to be collected as if they were becoming extinct. (curiously enough, tridelt must have been at this same convention...they made it their national symbol.) (rachel is going to kill me for this one. love you.) anyways.... and while i might have agreed with her for a long time.... i have found a new tattooed symbol to take its place.
so i'm taking drink orders and i come across this girl. normal looking girl. not overly pretty. but not totally unfortunate looking either. just normal... and i deemed her as normal.... but that was until i saw.... in the prettiest cursive letters tattooed on her normal looking arm..... "hot girl" ...and it was at this point that i lost it. i literally started laughing out loud. i just kept thinking to myself.... who told her it was ok for her to do that? which of her friends was like "yeah, thats a great idea, you should totally do that?" ....her mean friends...thats who. i mean what happens if she is in a debilitating accident that leaves her face so marred that it is hardly recognizable? God forbid....but seriously...she would have this jacked up face and "hot girl" still tattooed on her arm....now that would be some karma for ya.... that is some pure self confidence to walk in somewhere and tell the tattoo artist to write out "hot girl" on her body... in a place where it is prominently displayed. has anyone ever walked up to her and said "no you're not". that would be mean.. but i know people....ahem..person... that would do it. the only time that i think it is ok to get this particular tattoo....is if you are 80. how hilarious would that be....you would be the coolest granny ever! and definitely the hit of the old folks home. i’d do it if i was 80. i’d make Rachel go with me so we could get matching ones.

and can I get a hooty-hoo for football season finally getting started. high school, college, nfl…. hooty-hoo!

i promise.....

i promise that if someone. anyone. will find me a decently priced Austin City Limits three day pass...... i will start updating regularly again. please!!!

mikalickahilickahidyho.

yeah..... so my journal posting skills, as of late, have been less than stellar, i know. i'm gettin lazy. well i was going to post a video... but it wont let me. so just go to this link. the more times you watch it the funnier it gets. (they should really work on making 'funnier' an acceptable word...it already is to me)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk-1mla0LeU

dreams.

*so when i was younger (and i might have told you this before) it was my childhood ambition to work at mcdonalds. see... the way i figured it... mcdonalds was just about the biggest company i could fathom at the age of 7. i mean... i always had fun when i was there. they were always changing the sign so it said 'over 88 billions burgers sold'. i figured those people were banking! while everyone else i knew was playing school.... i was playing drive thru. i was excellent at it. "welcome to mcdonalds, can i take your order?"

*and i just remembered this one the other day.... when i was younger, i loved the bozo the clown show. you know the one. (and if you dont, then you were seriously deprived as a child) well there was this one segment and bozo would shout out "it's time for the grand! prize! game!" basically, they set up 6 buckets in a line and you would have to stand behind a line and try to make a ping pong ball in to the buckets starting with the closest bucket number one. (i always got mad when a kid couldnt even make it into bucket number one. pathetic. bad form.) you got a prize everytime you made one of the buckets. in the first couple of buckets they were lame prizes, however when you got to about the 2nd or 3rd bucket, they would bring out a lifetime supply of archway cookies. now, i had never had an archway cookie, but i thought it would be cool to tell all my friends, 'yeah, come over to the house, i'll get my mom to break out the archways". well, in the last bucket bozo always put a "crisp 100 dollar bill" and everyone would go "OoOoOoOoooooo" and he would taunt you with the grand prize....a brand. new. schwinn. bicycle. (it really is amazing what my brain retains) well... i figured i had just about as good a shot as anyone else to be on the show, and i figured that i would ultimately be picked to participate in the grand. prize. game. so i began practicing. whenever i got grounded (which happened to be a lot) i would practice. mom just thought she was punishing me, when actually she was just contributing to my hours and hours of countless ping pong ball tossing skills. i would set up six buckets in my room (and by buckets i mean boxes, tubs, caboodles, anything that a ping pong ball could be shot into.) and i then i would practice. i practices my excited jumping up and down as i made each bucket, i practiced my surprised look when they brought out the lifetime supply of archway cookies (why do i tell you these things?) and i practiced my concentrated look when i was going for bucket number 6. i knew i was going to get my chance. i knew i was going to be on that show. i would be ahead of the game by practicing. ....... i never got to be on the bozo show. but if i had i would like to believe that i would have at least made enough buckets that i could have gotten the lifetime supply of archway cookies. (you know that some where there are a bunch of people with lifetimes supplies of archway cookies. i bet they dont even eat them anymore. ....how ungrateful.)


and you say i have no ambition!?!

posting because i'm bored. nothing to see here....

*so recently, there have come about these little, we'll call them "scandals" dealing with girls recently placed in the spotlight (i.e. antonella barba with american idol and miss nebraska) and their personal, and rather scandalous pictures of them surfacing on the internet and in turn, entertainment tonight and the world news. this has lead me, after much consternation to ask all of you to delete those pictures of me in which might just be a little too revealing. you know the ones.... spring break '03, prom, and grandma's 80th birthday party. (for the sake of me and grandma)

*so last night, after going and getting my hair did. (love it) p.s.. impromptu plug for salon elevation in dallas. it's incredible. everyone is covered in tattoos and piercings, they offer you a beer when you walk in the door, and i've never been in a place where they all know so much about hair. it's really bizarre. ask for stephen. anyways.... i got a flat tire and changed it on the side of the dark road. it was one of those badass moments where you feel like you can then and only then take over the entire world. and i sliced my finger open. i hope it scars.

not even lying.

morgan -- [noun]: A master of storytelling 'How" will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

morgan is not cool.

so i'm at the mall the other day. you know, shopping. i venture into urban outfitters. urban outfitters. the epitome of cool. right? so after mindlessly walking around the store for about 10 minutes, i begin to sense how not-so-acutely awkward i feel. i just keep walking around looking for something that i would wear in public, instead of thinking, 'yeah my grandma has that in baby blue.' i walk over to a stand of shirts, and pick one up, and then proceed to turn it around, and around, trying to figure out which way is up and which side is the front. until i just kind of inconspicuously look around and place it back on the table as if i never touched it. it's like the people in there knew that i wasnt really supposed to be there. (i swear the seasame street game "one of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesnt belong" song was running over the speaker system) i dont wear flats. i dont own a huge brightly colored belt. i dont get the whole "layering" thing. i'll never wear tights. i dont enjoy dressing like the bag lady. and my head is too big for most hats. but... secretly.... what i really want to do.... is cut my hair a little shorter and a little more spiky, dye it platinum blonde, with some really cool colored highlights, pierce my eyebrow, and tell everyone, 'yeah, i got it at urban'.

i'm so not cool.

my funny valentine.

well. since, i would say, valentines sucks for the majority of people. (i blame expectation. this alleged "holiday" is up there with new years, as far as expectations of a day go. but i digress....) since some people hate this day... i decided to lay down my pride in exchange for a funny story. it's an at-least-THIS-didnt-happen-to-you story. it's up there with my top two embarrassing moments of all time. (the other story involves an empty house, a grandmother, and a parrot) you might want to grab some chocolate. this turned out to be a rather lengthy story.

anyways... so let's take it back to high school. senior year. i used to hate valentines day. (i will probably still claim at some point in time that i hate it, but i really dont.) in fact, i used to hate it so much that i wore all black to lament the day. (well that, and i'll use any excuse to dress in all black.) so. we're in class. on valentines day. i'm in all black and talking about how much i didnt like the day and what a hoax it was. yada. yada. yada. so the bell rings and we all leave and i walk out and see that there is this guy... and i'm not sure, but i think he was waiting on me. (which then has me freaked out.) so he starts in on the small talk. (p.s. guys... we know when you are beating around the bush, about to ask us out) and this is what that was. and then it happened. he said "so i made reservations at marios tonight, you want to go" and my internal dialogue is going... "did you not hear me ranting and raving about how much i hate valentines day? i'm wearing all black...was that not another good indication? THIS is the girl you want to take out on valentines day?" and usually... i can dodge the "hey, ya wanna go out with me" question. in fact, i would call myself a pro, but there was no dodging this one...it came out of no where. so of course, i said "sure".

so i go home that afternoon. and try, at all costs, to downplay this, what i was hoping was a, non-date to my mom. and of course she gets the look. the eyes light up a little bit. her eyebrows raise. and she asks 'oh, so who is that?' (in that 'oh thank God my baby isnt a freak, SOMEONE likes her' tone. or was it 'oh thank God my baby isnt a lesbian?' which ever. i bet its the same look.) its the same look and question any 24 year old single girl still gets from her mother/grandmother/aunt/cousin/or anyone else associated with the single police whenever we mention someone who might sound like a boy. if you listen hard enough, you can hear them humming the wedding march. it's the look of deserate (and usually unfounded) hope. (yes mom, you still do it. you all do it.)

and in case you were wondering. i didnt wear all black on the date. (stick with me here, i promise there is a good part to this story) so we go on this "thing". and it's awkward. he's nice and funny as can be, so let me rephrase, i'm awkward. so we go to order. i order the cheapest thing on the menu. spaghetti. (becuase thats what we usually do boys. if we are out, the reason i order a salad isnt because i'm a rabbit, it's because it's the cheapest thing on the menu.) but of course, that whole line of reasoning has changed since this fateful night.... so. the date was not a complete bust. it was pleasant. ..... and then the food came. my mom always says that she can never take us out in public to eat. (me and cam dont have the best table manners at home) but we do know how to act in public. so i'm trying my best to eat this bowl of noodles the most proper way i can. (no matter how hungry you are, 1000 of something is too many) i've got the spoon AND fork out, and i'm using my spoon to twirl it around my fork. even miss manners would have been proud. (all the while i'm trying to be charming and trying to keep up with the conversation) this went along great.....until..... i was talking and telling some elaborate story (imagine that) and i keep twirling and twirling the noodles and then i realize that i might have too much on my fork.... but meh.. i said forget and went for it. things were going smoothly. and this is where it happens.... so i go to stick the whole fork full in my mouth, but i realize mid bite, that the forkfull was WAY too big to fit in my mouth. but it's ok, i'll just bite it in the middle, leaving some still on my fork. possibly not the most proper way to deal with the situation... but it was the best i could do at the time. so, here we go. i kept thinking.... bite in half, bring fork directly back down to the plate like nothing happened. this is how i envisioned it. this is not how it happened. This is how it happened..... i bite the fork full in half and as i go to put the rest back on my plate, the "rest" swings back at me and slaps me in the face. FWAP! (thats the tricky thing about noodles..... they're ATTATCHED) i freak! i quickly pulled my napkin up to my face, praying all the while that he just didnt see it. he did. he begins to laugh. (it wasnt even worth trying to cover that up). and although i did not find it as openly funny as he did, i can see the humor in it. so now i'm throughly embarassed. i'm sure the splotches are aplenty. but i'm not done yet..... i remove the napkin, and the boy starts laughing even more. and i'm going, ok jerk i know it was funny and all but now you've taken it too far. but through his chortles, he can barely get out "you still have some in your nose". napkin goes back up to my face to retrieve the left behind noodle. thus ensuring this story in morgan's embarassing moments hall of fame. all i wanted to do after that was go home. hoping to never see him again, but knowing i would see him in class the very next day. we spend most of the car ride home with me threating him if he ever told anyone this story. but the amazing part came when he wanted to hang out again. let's recap... i told you i hate valentines day. you ask me out anyways. you see me string spaghetti all over my face and you STILL want to see me again???? what?? i've been out before where the date went great! no spaghetti in nose, no embarassment.... and i never hear from him again. and yet, he wants to take me out again? dont you know you cant take me out in public?? oh Lord, my mother was right. i am a freak. AND i cant be taken out in public.

tonight. i promise. i'm not ordering the spaghetti.

i should update.