{ one of a kind-of }

You will give me a scholarship. Here's why:

"Recently my husband and I were married and together we have very little income and no savings. Both of us are pursuing majors at different colleges. Due to lack of funding I have considered giving up my degree for now to put my husband through school but I simply cannot let education slip by. My goal is to finish my final two years quickly but thoroughly so I can pursue either a MSW or parenthood.

I have always been a very dedicated individual and have finally found my nitch. I am passionate about my emphasis in Family Studies. Families and their effect on our community are at the core of every industry. I know it is a practical and rewarding degree where I can finally learn how to communicate empathy and constructive feedback to families and individuals in crisis.

Ultimately, I will work with adolescent girls pursuing my dream; "If you save a girl, you save generations." -President Gordon B. Hinckley. However, until diplomas and experience come I need funding for my future. Every dollar is a significant contribution to my potential. Thank you in advance for your consideration."

At least that's what I just submitted to UVU.

I compose sentences based on the corn method. I ask myself, How much corn is too corny? Does this corn make me look desperate?
The method is proven as a good method. It got me into college. It got me a solid resume. It got me my boot money back. It is gold.

I can't wait for school. All I need now's a big fat I-have-faith-you'll-succeed-someday check.

-miss

{ apocalypse snow }

"Storm-ageddon" is upon us!!

Okay, I'm a nid-bit late on the declaration. In fact, most of it is gone. We even have SUN again. But I still needed to comment on how crazy good all that snow was for a whole day & 1/2.

Driving home from school, Hugh and I made fun of most of the restaurants we passed. Those places where most of the USA-lovin' bumpkin yokels gather. YOU know what I'm talking about. That restaurant where the whole family meets up for their annual family reunion. Cousin Juniper's wedding reception. Karaoke night with the locals. Aunt Murial's birthday hoopla.

Here's our top 3 hick-life list
1. Denny's
2. Applebee's
3. Golden Corral (mkay let's be honest, throw in every all-you-can-eat joint)

If you can think of more feel free to add to it.

Anyway, recently we went to Panda. Of course Hugh got the sweet fortune:

I hope my faculties remain firm and supple as well.

AAAANNND I'm not sure if anyone is keeping up on the whole Tiger Woods scandal and knew this but Tiger's changing his name. To Cheetah. Bahahaaa!

{ Le Awesome. }

I'm ill. I can taste it. It's settled like a cotton wad somewhere north of my neck dimple [adam's apple if I was an adam] but a little south of the base of my tongue. It feels like I've gotta constantly swallow this dripping feeling. Which makes me burp a lot.

TMI.

Anywhay, I have used this time wisely. I'm re-reading Host, applied for ANOTHER job (bleh) and will probably figure out my What-The-Heck issue with UVU. It's so confusing. I'm already a student somehow! I mean, my social is being used.

My last two days have been equally as interesting. Hughness and I watched about 6 episodes of Alias while he sorted through his Bolivia horde. Okay, I'll admit. They're really cool ["They" being his bugs]. But it's totally un-cool when he shows me his only caught spider and pretends to throw it at me. Oh he gets a good laugh but I...just...do not. I don't fair well in a room if I know a spider lurks. So WHY Hugh thinks I'd be okay around a lethal Bolivian spider is totally beyond me. Who cares if it's dead?? It doesn't make it less of a spider. Am I still a woman if I'm a dead woman? Yes.

By the way, I love my extended family-in-laws. From the sounds, they actually read this. And every once in a while I'm graced with a comment. Thanks extended family-in-laws.

Hm. I think I'll mosey over to the fridge and grab some berries. Tootles.

-Miss

PS
Re-vamped Ewingthroughandthrough. Same content but I went through and edited every single post.

{ funky smells from north }

A whole week of weed. My neighbors are living it up every morning at the crack of dawn. It's cool by me. Their level of THC isn't my business. But the smell is making me groovy.

Please stop your smokin' neighbor man.

Thank you,
Melissa

{ Constance: A Formal Apology }

Dear Constance Ray,

For weeks you have looked smashing on my fridge. I'll have you know, my BEST magnet was reserved for you two. I planned on attendance since the moment I got my mitts on it. Especially after you made it to mine [In my mind you made it. From the sound, your effort alone is cause for a thank you card].

I beg pardon for irresponsible negligence. I planned. I wrote it down. I dreamed of your day. And I failed you. I'm sorry.

In case you didn't by some ill-fated chance get a Mormon neighbor-mother to give you a crock pot, I've got your back. There's one in my closet waiting for you.

You epitomize bodacity. I hope our bond is not broken. Our deep rewarding bond.


Congrats and stuff,
Melissa