November 24, 2009

Nothin But A G-Thang Baby / Mommy - Myth? Nay, Legend




What is this you ask? Me, Rachelle, Ms. Ballard if you will, taking a loaded weapon and firing of her own free will and choice? Yes dear readers, this is not a cyber hoax, it is me. It's me, shamelessly practicing my Obama-inhibiting second ammendment right to bear freaking arms. I perhaps appear to be hypocritical to a few specimens that have the pleasure of knowing me well. I have never been a lover of guns, and if given the choice on a multiple choice survey or a government sponsored ballot, I would vote for the disintegration of all guns. Never have loved em. But, after complaining about school for 1,739 hours to Matt and calling it 'stupid' over and over (yes, I know, my verbiage should place me in a scholastic literary hall-of-fame at this point. My brain is fried. don't judge me) Matt took me to a shooting range, placed that 40cal in my stubby costco-hotdog fingers and let me go crazy. Can I just say that It felt great, nay, it was intoxicating/prodigious/euphoric. I know understand all the hype. Although I still do not endorse the whole hunting practice (do not put antlers on me and hide all of my orange all southern utahns, please), I did, however, love this arena of steel and powder. Can I just say that I think I loved it because usually, when the relate-ives go shooting clay pigeons (why are they called pigeons and not hockey pucks?) I usually .... well, suck for a lack of better words. BIG time. Those infamous little devils are wiley and refuse to be hit by my bullets. But at this Get Some Guns and Ammo I was at the top of my game. If you'll notice my 'grouping,' as Ted at the shop told me it was called, is quite good. All of the shots on the hostage were aimed there, FYI. Skanky hostages deserve a lesson or two, Ya win some Ya lose some.
In the end and most importantly, I fully suspect my street cred to up 52 points.




Mommy.


That's what friends/roomates/classmates, etc know my mother as. They all just call her mommy. All of you that know her will be bored because the amazingness of the woman is already concreted in your cabeza no doubt. Also everyone knows that I only have friends because of the endless benefits mommy provides. If I was a missionary, peeps would be begging to be my comp - because of my testimony and people skills? False, because of the packages sent by mommy, easy. Fact: I am blessed, aka spoiled. Fact: Mommy has made my college life a breeze. Fact: If you ever hear me complain you have every god-given right to not only slap me but to paralyze my very tongue. I get frequent little goodies from the home front and they are always desirable little delicatessans. Let me just boast for a moment on how amazing mommy is just this week:

She MADE this cute little coat rack.


she MADE this jewelry frame

She brings me funnies...my favorite of all the gifts. ZITS and Dilbert, what would my morning be without you?


You'll notice in the box some granola, cleaning supplies, new tubberware (I do NOT feel bad that I can't spell tubberware. I feel like it aids the feminist movement), and all sorts of little goodies.


Thanks mommy SO much for everything. You're a diamond in the roughest patches of humans and only the Book of Life in the C-kingdom will ever know t'why I didn't recieve any of your domestic abilities or general sweetness....I blame father.

November 3, 2009

REM was right. It's The End of The World As We Know It

November

It's a great month. I actually love it. A couple of my favorite people were born this month. Please, don't feel saddened if you're not a scorpio, it's not your fault, it's your parents. Among these people is my dear old dad, my paps, pappa bear, punky brucester, etc. If you know me I have probably bragged about my father to you. It's not something I'm proud of, it's a habit....so sue me. One thing that I refrain from adding in the list of 'my dad is better than your dad at....' is his overwhelming naivety of the technological tongue. He is clueless, bless his heart. But, for the big boys fifty third, whether because a lack of gift ideas or a distinct sense of humor, his gift this year was a blackberry. Yep, a blackberry. Those cute, trendy little life managers the size of cracker. I find this hilarious. I'm excited about it. So, get the man's number and email and send him any fun little tid bits you want and we can imagine together the hilarity of him trying to find out how to read slash open it. Good luck pops, expect many a game-face sent from my blackberry to yours.



On another note, life has been crazy nuts. School, housing, friends, etc. It's just been a bit hectic. I pride myself in not getting stressed out, and I have been bordering that ever cursed word and I'm ashamd and baffled. So, yesterday after my run, (in a beautiful, fall stricken SLC mind you, quite warm too = god loves me) I was lying on the grass median that runs through my street doing a bit of needed stretching. *sidenote: I'm terribly unflexible. I hate it. I found out that despite my constant struggle with it, it will never become easy. It's genetic. Thanks parents. Thanks a heep. Anyway, I was laying there stretching my lower lumbar and I stopped and just stared at the sky for a bit. It was mesmorizing. I just layed there thinking nothing thoughts for about 5 mintues. I love the sky. So, I have thus been making it a regular goal, to lay down and just stare at the big, beautiful sky for 5 minutes a day. It really puts things in perspective I think. So, if and when you're having a rough day and feel like you've been asked to handle Job-like struggles, just go outside, (preferably not at noon-ish, the sun hurts your eyes then) and stare at the sky or 5 minutes. That's it, just 5 minutes. I put my stamp on that and guarantee that it will help. Also, try not to do it when the lawns been recently watered. Still a nice experience, but a little less than supreme when the realization hits you.