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. :)

I heard something today I thought was just ridiculous enough to share.

I was watching The Food Network (big shock, I know) and there were all kinds of Christmas promos going on . . one of which was a commercial featuring various Food Network personalities talking about how they spend "The Holidays".

One host - I'm not sure who he was - I've not seen him or his show before; talked about spending Christmas day with his family, lounging around and relaxing. Sounds typical . . then he continued on to say "We don't talk about religion or politics, none of it. ". Yeah - the last thing you should do on the day we celebrate Jesus' birth is talk about religion. Great.

It never fails to amaze me how quick Americans are to take Jesus out of Christmas.

Thanksgiving break is always a nice & cruel teaser for the Christmas break to come. I had a great Thanksgiving with my crazy family this past week. Some highlights: meeting my niece, Jocelyn Lia, dominating Guitar Hero, knocking Jessie's lights out in Wii Boxing, hanging out with my family & hearing Noah refer to me as "Rar" all week long. L's and R's are hard for kids to say . . my name is like a cruel joke. Some low points: my first Black Friday shopping experiencing which yielded little more than a pair of shoes and a hat, waiting all week for Madi to have puppies . . . she's still preggo, driving back to Lex in the rain and sleet Sunday night, watching the Colts squeak by the Browns. THE BROWNS?!

I got back to Lexington Sunday night around 8:30 and was so excited to walk in and see our beautiful white Christmas tree glowing in our dark living room. Picture to come soon. Christmas (finally) feels like it's around the corner.

While I was home my sisters and I dealt out "Secret Santa" names for Christmas shopping. Each year we each pick a name and shop for just one sibling (it ain't easy to buy for 4 - way to go, Rick & Deb). In recent years our "Secret Santa" has turned into "I'm not shopping for her - she's too picky - I had her last year - Santa" and we're all pretty vocal about who we won't shop for. That being said, instead of drawing names out of a hat we all basically negotiate with the family for which sister we'd like to shop for and then "call-it" before anyone else can. This year we were detmermined to let it be a surprise. Lisa, Jenna, Kara & I started drawing names at random on Thursday night. About an hour later we resigned to let our Dad arrange the whole thing to make sure Jessie & Adam didn't get each other. We finally got Kara to stop reading everyone's paper slips and were well on our way to hour one of secret keeping.

The next day Adam & Jessie came over and we handed them their slips of paper. I explained, in detail, the events of the night before and how it was imperitive to keep their gift recipient a secret and that they weren't allowed to even tell each other who each had. We made sure no one was looking as they opened their papers and read their names and everyone was happy we were back to the old-school "Secret Santa". Adam had been playing with his iPod and put it aside to open his paper. He pulled it apart, looked at it and said "Oh this is perfect. I have *(@#&$!". Literally less than a minute after I got done telling them how it was a secret this year Adam tells the entire room who he got. Good to know that when I talk he listens, right? So now most of us know who Adam has in addition to who we have, but the rest remain unknown. "Secret-ish Santa". Way to go, Rico.

While I was home I heard a comedian on Comedy Central talking about college - it was so dead on it was hilarious. He mentioned how when you're about to graduate everyone you talk to asks "What are you going to do after you graduate?" His reply? "I think my parents & I will go out to dinner. Oh after that? Yeah - I have no idea." Anyone who has graduated from college will identify with that. I can't tell you how many times people (myself included) pose the question above. "Hey Laura - what are you doing after graduation?" I would love to have a perfect little answer to spew back about where my life is going, where I'll live and what job I'll hold. Maybe I'll just start making stuff up. "I'm moving to Guam where I'll live in a palace and work as a puppet master. Wish me luck!"

I wouldn't consider myself to lie on either end of the planning spectrum. I've definitely got a type A personality, but more-so with current happenings. I'm not an excessive planner, but I'm not one to just sit back and let things happen, either. Anyone in college who is reading this is probably thinking "Big deal - no one knows what job they'll have after they graduate - suck it up." But I feel like my situation is a bit more complicated since I don't have an answer or even an inkling to any of 'em & I'm creeping closer & closer to that diploma. I can see myself living in Lexington a while longer, or moving away. Where? Your guess is as good as mine. As far as professions: I would love to own a dance studio someday, but in the meantime I could see myself teaching dance, being a visual merchandiser, working in marketing , holding a retail position , being a choreographer or having any number of other jobs, but I just don't know what will happen. This isn't a bad problem to have: much better to have too many jobs to choose from than not to like any job you think of.

So many college students get married and find a perfect job right out of school I think people assume you should have your junk together before graduation day. Here's fair warning: I am not one of these people. I like to think I'm not a train wreck, but I've definitely got a lot of growing (up), learning, and experiencing to do before I'll feel like I'm in adulthood. Just ask my sisters. I swear I'm perpetually 17. What? I'm old enough to vote/drink/marry/see R-rated movies? When did that happen?

It's so funny to me that I have friends that are teachers when I feel like we should all still be in high school. It's also hilarious to think about my friends getting a salary and not an hourly wage. See? I'm not 22, really. I still laugh at cuss words, body part names & potty jokes. All the above would be worrisome if I didn't have (awesome) roommates who had the same doubts/worries/immaturities/panic attacks as I do. There's nothing like sitting in our living room late at night posing question after question and answering close to none - then laughing about it all. The closer I get to graduation the more I realize it's ok to have questions and doubts and fears about "the real world" and turning into an adult (which I fear may alread have happened when I wasn't looking). If I had a perfect little plan laid out before me I would probably get bored and move to Brazil to break up the monotony.

Bottom line: I'm thinking about jobs I'd like to have and would be good at & it's been fun/scary/mind boggling imagining the possibilities. (Wow, I sound like a computer commercial)

Hit me up & tell me where I should work - y'all probably have a more rational perspective than I do. Seriously - if you're reading this I want a job proposal. Let's hear 'em. Thanks!

Nothin' much as of late - but I do have a few funny observations from around Lexington.

Around a week ago my roommate Kristina & I went to the mall. We were walking around and enjoying all of the Christmas decorations when we slowed our roll if you will, because we got behind two elderly women. They were both wearing long, floral button-up dresses and hats; one had a walker and one had a cane. We were about to detour around them until I noticed a few things. First; the lady with the walker wasn't using it like she should have been. Instead of relying on the walker to help her walk she was shuffling it along the floor and being a bit dramatic about it. Also, this same lady had dusty brown hair in a messy ponytail. What older woman do you know who pulls her hair into a messy ponytail? It's apparently too haphazard a style for women over 65 so I knew their jig was up. I told my roommate we needed to figure them out so as they veered left we followed suit. When they stopped at a kiosk we maneuvered around them to catch a glimpse and my suspicions were confirmed. These elderly women were two 12 or 13 year old girls dressed up as senior citizens. Why, you might ask, would two tween girls (yes, I said tween) dress up as AARP members and head to the mall? I think if you put two or more girls together a lot of un-funny ideas become hilarious.

Case & point: I will not name names, but my freshman year of college my friends and I were hanging out in a south-campus dorm room. We decided we needed something to do so we made a Wal-Mart run to buy a contraband blender & strawberry daiquiri mix. Yeah, you know where this is going. Or do you? We snuck our shiny new blender up 14 floors to the end of the hall where we giggled and shut the door behind us. Most college kids would have then pulled out their alcohol stash. Not us. We blasted some music, probably Will Smith "Just The Two Of Us" or Robyn's "Show Me Love" as we mixed up our virgin daiquiris and danced around the room. Next up? A bit of grade-school trickery with vitamin C tablets. A friend and I convinced our two other friends to chew vitamin C tablets that were supposed to be swallowed. Sounds mundane, but I've got pictures of us laughing so hard we cried. Had to be there, I guess. To cap off our evening one girl in our group actually belted a pillow to her back, put on house shoes, wrapped all of her but her face in a hot pink fleece blanket & rode the elevator for about 30 minutes. What's funny about a coed hopping on a heavily trafficked dorm elevator dressed as the Hunchback of Notre Dame? A lot, if you're not her. Andrea (whoops, it slipped.) came back to the room completely traumatized after a guy on the elevator was convinced she was drunk. Why else, he must have thought, would this scenario be happening? Morals of the story: friends make everything funny & even virgin daiquiris can lead to bad decisions.

Next observation: today I was on campus and had to run in a building to drop something off. It was my lucky day because as soon as I got to campus the one building I needed to go in was having a fire scare. Police cars and fire engines were everywhere and the entire building had been evacuated. Perfect timing, Kinsley. (I call myself Kinsley. Or Gorgeous. Depends on my mood) I waited around outside the building until the hazard had cleared and we were allowed to enter. I needed to go to the 3rd floor so I headed for the elevator. (3 flights of stairs? Please.) While I was waiting for the elevator I witnessed typical middle-aged woman banter. One woman (a UK prof) said "Well that was invigorating!" to which another woman replied with a thick southern drawl "Yeah, my fingers are still invigged." I bit my lip as the elevator doors opened. We all squeezed inside (no lie, we were teetering close to the maximum capacity) and more hilarity ensued. There were about 10 of us in this elevator, including a woman and her two small children; a boy and a girl about 6 and 4. The mother had her back to the little boy, who was just as tall as the mother's booty. The elevator ride must have been bumpy on her side because she wobblin' like a Weeble (anyone? anyone?). The boy got a faceful and said "Mom, why are you bumping me?" and his mother said "Because I'm trying to keep you in here, I don't want you to leave this elevator without me." and he replied "But your butt is hitting me in the face." His mother, without missing a beat shot back with "Yeah, that's why God put it there." The UK prof (still in the elevator) said "Haha, Oh to be young. If it's not because your mom says so, God did it for a reason."

I had a few more stories to tell, but I'll save those for a slow day.