Booyah.

The facts: It's 3:21 a.m. I'm chillin' in my living room. My roommates are asleep. I just finished putting a load of laundry in, washing dishes, cleaning, reorganizing & rearranging the kitchen. I'm watching "Ghost Town". It's icing & snowing outside. I watched "Ever After" tonight. Great movie. I found a new band I'm obsessed with on myspace. I went to bed last night at 8:30 after a rocky night of sleeping Saturday night. I woke up this morning at 6:30 and haven't slept since. I drank 1 cup of coffee this morning around 9:30 and I'm blaming that for my insomnia.

Lexington is currently under a "Winter Storm Warning" and I'm witnessing it. It's beautiful out - assuming you can stay wrapped in a blanket on the couch, that is. I'm hoping (praying, believing) that my classes will be cancelled tomorrow because of the heinous weather - and if that doesn't happen I'm in for a rough day.

Random story time. Last night I was in Wal-Mart stocking up on Q-tips & orange juice, the most natural of combinations, when I heard a strange page over the intercom. I could be imagining the first name they called, but I am 100% sure about the second. A lady's voice bursts over the loudspeaker and she says "Would Laura _____ (not sure of the last name) and Manning Peyton please come to the jewelry counter." I was on the phone with my mom at the time and I literally burst out into laughter. I didn't respond to my mom as she asked what was going on. I waited to hear the announcement again. "Manning Peyton, Manning Peyton please report to the jewelry counter." What. Just. Happened?! Number one: who is this pager-lady that she doesn't realize "Manning Peyton" as something other than a lost Wal-Mart child? Number two: who would page Peyton Manning in Wal-Mart? To the jewelry counter? So there I am; in my Colts fleece (Thanks Jen.) holding my phone to my ear and looking around suspiciously. I was convinced someone I knew had seen me in an aisle and decided to play a prank. After a few moments of surveying I gave up the search and went on about my shopping duties.

I wonder if my subconscious is so down trodden about the Colts season finale that I'm seeking out players in my everyday life? Will I hallucinate Joseph Addai in my backyard next? How about Jeff Saturday in my merchandising classes? Only time will tell. Walking around campus & in and out of Lexington I've seen a trend . . bandwagon NFL fans. People donning BRAND NEW Steelers & Cardinals gear and claiming they're hardcore. Right. The Superbowl is in a few days and I couldn't care less about the outcome. I lean slightly toward Arizona - the underdogs always need a few more cheerleaders. Then again; I'm a fan of anything that will yield a killer schedule & horrible draft position for an ever competitive AFC powerhouse like Pittsburgh. See the dilemma?

One thing is certain: the Superbowl can only mean one thing; March Madness is just around the corner. While thrilling; this also signals the thing I most dread each spring. The (all-too soon) return of professional baseball. (Shudders). Professional Baseball: here's my beef. You come too soon. You last way too long. You interrupt my regularly scheduled programming. You have too many games. 162?! Your playoffs are all together anti-climactic & drawn out. You monopolize Sportscenter. You give clueless girls a reason to put on cutesy hats & tiny t shirts claiming they've "been a Cubs fan like, all my life". I could go on about the ridiculous sports attire aimed at girls today; but that's another blog for another day. Pink jerseys? Really?

In conclusion; my favorite sport is over, my 2nd favorite is in the home stretch & for the next 6 months I nearly boycott ESPN.

Go see "Slumdog Millionaire" if you haven't already. You won't be disappointed. Steer clear of "Revolutionary Road" & "The Reader" & bring plenty of tissues to "Marley & Me". Fight kicking & screaming to stay far away from "Paul Blart: Mall Cop". Channel the 13 year old girl inside & fawn over "Twilight". Put your foot down & refuse "Bride Wars". Those are the only movies out I have strong opinions about.

Rent "Ghost Town". Ricky Gervais is brilliant. Speak with a British accent for 1 day. C'mon, you know you want to.

So . . Christie Brinkley & I are pretty much the same person.

Woah. The winter vacation threw a wrench in my blogging plans. Alright - I give: who wants to blog when you're surrounded by home-cooked meals, 4 crazy, unpredictable, hilarious sisters you haven't seen in months & the two cutest nieces anyone could ask for? Not this girl.

Christmas break was great - lots of relaxing, little worrying or caring, & winter nights spend lounging in a 104 degree hot tub. Loved it.

Winter break had downers, however. Boom : Colts out of the playoffs. Smack: Tony Dungy retires. I've recovered from both football-related negatives.

Over break I did something I didn't think I'd ever do. I took my car to a vehicle design store and had my windows (illegally) tinted. I'm still not entirely on board with the message it sends about me, but I do love the way it makes my car look & the air of mystery it adds to my cruises around Lexington. With the window tinting comes a hilarious story (of course) involving my mom, the window tint worker & a heinous quote from one of my favorite shows. Here's the setup:

All week I had been talking to my family about window tinting & weighing the pros and cons of such an endeavor. Will I get a ticket? What if my car is too dark? I won't get nearly as many traffic light pickups. Will I be able to see at night? What if people think I'm ridin' dirty? Is it worth the money? What if I don't like it? Do "normal" people tint their windows? Really? As these conversations went on, I found myself mostly on the defensive. While describing the visual benefits to my family my favorite MTV duo Rob & Big came to mind. If you've seen the show you may have heard them refer to their car as "murdered out". If you're on the outside lookin' in head over to urbandictionary.com and look it up. (But don't stay long)

In a family conversation I told my dad I wanted my car to be murdered out & I was met with a sea of blank stares. I caught them up on my ghetto slang & murdered out became the number one pro of tinted windows. Flash forward a week when I'm picking my car up from the auto design store. My parents and I drove over and my mom and I went in to pay & get my car keys. We walk in and there isn't anyone around at first, and after about 30 seconds a guy comes out of the back of the store.

Admittedly, this guy was attractive. Ok, that's an understatement, this guy could have been an Abercrombie model. So I'm thinkin' "Play it cool, Kinsley. He's not that good - OH MY GOSH THIS GUY IS SO HOT. CALM YOURSELF! Breathe!" as Mr. Window Tinting himself starts telling me the rules for the next few days (no rolling the windows down, using defrost will help the tint cure . . . ). I'm trying my hardest to appear attentive as I'm thinking "What is a guy like this doing working here? He could be in magazines. Or a boy band." It had snowed that morning, and my car had been tinted the night before so it was out in front of the store with about 2 or 3 inches of snow on it. My mom, trying to crack a joke, says "I think that's right where we left the car yesterday, are you sure you tinted it?" and as the joke whizzes over his head he replies "Yeah, we tinted it last night and put it out this morning, the snow is from today; it has been snowing." My mom says "Oh, ok."; clearly willing to let the joke slip away. Then the unthinkable happens. I see the light bulb over my mom's head flicker to life as my worst nightmare unfolds.

My mom took a brief pause before she says "So it's murdered out?". My very own ghetto-speak had come back to haunt me in the form of public humiliation. My mom turns to me as if I'm going to slap her five or give her a certificate of achievement. The guy behind the counter utters a short laugh and trails off with a "Yeah . . ". By this point I'm already out the front door to launch my head into a bank of snow. Thanks Mom.

Needless to say, I don't think I'm the one he remembered from the interaction. That had to have been a first for them though; murdered out isn't a common member of 50 year old woman vernacular. Way to go, Deb.

A few more brief things before I attempt a few hours of sleep.

I've been having the most hilarious & vivid dreams lately.

Usually I can think back on my day and find the trigger, but most of the recent ones are seemingly out of the blue. Last night I had a dream I was at Applebee's . . eating dinner with John Mayer. Yeah - I know. The first part of my dream we were facing each other and he had really shaggy hair & the 2nd part we were sitting next to each other & he had a buzzed head. Maybe it was 2 dates over a long period of time? I sure know how to keep 'em comin' back, that's for sure. In dream world, anyway. :) Anyway - throughout the entire dream I was consumed with thoughts of getting his autograph. Completely ridiculous as I was assuredly dating the guy. I remember at one point I broke REM and opened my eyes immediately thinking "Now you'll NEVER get the autograph."

Another dream of mine from a few nights ago was about my family. Kara was having a pool party with her friends who were all a lot younger than she was. One guest in particular, was problematic. This fat little 10 year old boy was throwing peas in our pool. I was apparently the lifeguard/pool monitor on duty so I was yellin' at him to pick 'em up and telling him he was rude. Don't look at me: I'm just as confused as you are. In the same dream Jenna was driving my brand new car as I looked on from our house. She was pulling it into the garage and giving me a huge thumbs up and waving like a maniac. I was crazy mad she was behind the wheel & yelling "GET OUT! GET OUT!" Go figure. Sorry, Jen. (But seriously, if you EVER drive my car - heads will roll.)

I've been doing research on sleeping habits lately & I've found a lot of articles stating that the way to a good night's sleep is to have a consistent wake-up time. 7 days a week. Bedtime isn't as crucial; you go to bed when your body is tired in preparation for the impending wake up call. This sounds like a good plan until I try to implement it. Monday & Wednesday I have class at 8: which means I need to leave my house at 7. A 6:30 wake up would give me enough time to get ready & eat breakfast if I showered the night before. However; Tuesdays & Thursdays I don't have class until 9:30. 3 hours of prep time seems a bit much for a day of lectures. Not to mention Friday - my day off. The thought of waking up at 6:30 on a day I have no class or plans before 10 am sounds entirely ludicrous. Don't even get me started on Saturday. Sunday is possible, I could attend the early service at church at 8:30 but it still seems like a crazy time to arise. (If anyone in my family is reading this now they're thinking "No freaking way this will ever happen." Amen.) I love sleeping a little too much to fully commit to this just yet. I do agree I need to be going to bed earlier (this post is case & point for that argument) but I can't imagine going to bed early enough to justify a 6:30 alarm clock. For instance; that is a mere 1 1/2 hours from now. Sick.

I'm gonna try to post more regularly now that I'm back at school; because let's face it - the people want more Laura & what the people want the people get. I'm a giver, what can I say.

Oh yeah - if you see me in Lex cruisin' in my tight murdered out car just assume I'm wavin' back. :)