Mr. Darcy Stare?

The "look" can be summarized in a few words from Nicholas Nickleby:

Fanny: "We don't need words...if you could only see the way he looked at me."

Tilda: "Did he look at you like this? If he did, you're engaged. That's the way John looked at me."

John Browdie: "I hope it was better than that, or thee'd have run to the hills!"

I was thinking about this yesterday as I was talking to Lindsay's cat. My feline friend was gazing deep into my eyes while I was talking and every time aforementioned kitty looked deep in my eyes, it would put its nose against my mouth. I was like, hmm...this cat is subconsciously obsessed with kissing me. It's completely oblivious to anything else I'm saying.

And then the idea struck.

I should learn how to do that "look."
The wisdom of this simpering feline may benefit us all.

The Lure

There are few things that will convince me to eat in the morning. One is the smell of fresh fruit; one is my dog biting at my pajama pant leg to get me out of bed and feed her; and one is a well-dressed and mysteriously attractive (tall, dark and handsome) man showing up at my door with roses (insert alternate flower here) and frozen birthday cake. That about completes the list.

And then today happened.

They were just sitting there on the table. That box, with the morning sun scintillating off its cardboard and ink surface... Stephen had forgotten to return it to the cupboard ... fool.

There was no one around except el chupeneibre. And so I gave in.

And ate a full bowl of Golden Grahams before the crunch had time to escape.

Yes Jon, you were right all along.

Pros and Cons

Con: Moving day.
Pro: Possibility of food as reward for moving day.
Con: Heavy lifting.
Pro: Uberhot muscles formed by heavy lifting.
Con: Getting Brian's hud together and putting it into Angry Johnny's truck.
Pro: Getting Brian's hud outta my house.
Con: Trying to move stuff with neighbor girls wanting to have tea party.
Pro: Crumpets.
Con: Don't know what crumpets are.
Pro: Dog eats crumpets.
Con: Moving the crumpet-filled dog to access furniture.

So I don't know if I even out in the end or not, but if anyone would like (puppy dog eyes) to help us move Brian and Lindsay into their apartment in Orem tonight, that would be a good thing and you'd prolly qualify yourself for heavenly blessings. We'll be starting around 5 or 6.

It will be the social event of the season.

Small Wonder

So since I've been home, I have somehow dropped five pounds. I don't know where it went. I can't find it. But I weighed myself this morning, and I was TINY.

Cwazy.

Soon I'll be Calista Flockhart or Emmy Rossum small.

Gross.

April showers bring May flowers

And they have a whole website dedicated to it. Fasn8n, really.

Does anyone know why is it generally socially unacceptable for girls to give flowers to boys? Sometimes I really want to, but this stigma in my head slaps my hands and says no.

Or better yet, could someone tell me the masculine equivalent to flowers? I don't want to give power tools, but...

An Ideal Husband

A BYU professor once said:

"If you find a person who fits 80%
of your needs or expectations,
you have a small miracle--
and should do all you can to hold onto them.

Guys, this ought to give you some encouragement. Why? Because women have a prefabricated set of qualifications mapped out for the men they date. Girls, I know you all made those lists in Young Women's. You know, the 45 traits your future husband absolutely must have in order to qualify as a candidate for your affections. We all have those little lists floating around somewhere, and most of them are nearly impossible to fulfil.

I found several of those lists today, as well as one of those "Letters to my Future Husband" that Mia Maid leaders encourage you to write before being old enough to date. I read the letter. It was pretty sappy. But hopelessly romantic, too. I don't know if I'd give it to my future husband or not, he'd prolly die laughing and then kiss me out of sympathy. And then I'd burn the letter.

I think I should post one of those "lists," though, and see how it compares to other girls' lists. It would be funny to see, and give guys and opportunity to see how spasmodically complicated the female mind is, even in the teen years. Pardon: especially in the teen years. I'll have to do that later today...

Endorphin

Sounds like a Star Wars midget-planet.

This week I started my summer workout routine. There's an awful lot of unused muscle floating around my little self, and I should do summat about that. Then I can look nice in a prom gown...except I'm not going to prom anytime soon.

And so I have a specific plan to improve:

abs-crunches
biceps-weights, pushups
deltoids-swimming
triceps-pushups
quads, gastocnemius-running

I've got my work cut out for me. But I think this will minimize the "I can't stand one more minute indoors" mood I'm currently undergoing. I hate this mood.

Endorphins rule. Job searches bite. I'm sore from exercising!

Link

Because let's face it. When you find a boy who lets you obsess about the Legend of Zelda and then play the video game for hours without complaint, then it's prolly time you should consider keeping him.

Just a thought.

Food Storage

So I decided that a definite bonus to someday getting married is the prospect of adequate food storage. Versus what I'm currently living on.

It's not that single people don't have food. We do. We just have to pick-and-choose from what our roommates have and what we don't, and thereby make a balanced meal. I guess I'm feeling guilty for once again pilfering one of Kristi's cans of chicken noodle soup, which I wouldn't have had to do if I had the unlimited resources of a can-goddess.

In contrast, Matt and Lily's pantry was chock-full of canned goodness of every type. I should know. I sorted it for them while they were on their honeymoon. Those canned whatevers would have come in handy this morning when I was looking for chicken broth.

And it's not just cann-ed goods. Married people also have access to the full gamut of spices. Mom does. They're sitting down in the Fruit Room, waiting to be turned into some fantastical garnish for who knows what. I can't even guess what half of those spices are. Does this make me an inadequate woman? I hope not. I'd hate for that to be on my resume.

Hands

My favorite thing about my boyfriend today is:

The fact that his hand is just big enough for my hand to fit comfortably in it. Sometimes, I think it was custom-made that way.

Networking

Warning: venting blog approaching.

It's a well-known fact that guys are constantly baffled by the underground organization known to some only as the Girl Network. It's a streamlined system that efficiently feeds women our gossip within the hour the event has happened, and keeps us apprised to the goings-on in our world. Membership, however, is exclusive and contingent on an intricate understanding of the Reckless Female Hormone. Guys get frustrated with our web of "knowingness" and we can't really blame them for being bewildered and / or frustrated with how much it pervades daily life.

But as I learned today, yes we can.

I've decided that guys have as extensive and clandestine network as we ladies do, and in some cases, it's more lethal. The key to the Guy Network is the principle of not-telling. We say they don't talk to each other about love / life / whatever, but they do. They talk about these things a lot.

Example:

My friend broke up with her boyfriend today. Recently-ex'ed-boyfriend (Danny) is mad at friend (Kristin) because she is still writing to a missionary (Kenneth.) This is not the pivotal argument of the break-up, but Danny chose to bring it into the fray. Danny had known about Missionary Kenneth since January because boy-network aquaintance and therefore bosom-companion (Thomas) had told Danny about Kenneth. It's not like this information was anything new to him. The "knowing" part of it wasn't bad. It was the fact that Danny never said anything to Kristin about this before, or that it bugged him, until they actually broke up. He'd gotten the secret from the Boy Network ages ago, and failed to properly apply his knowledge. It's not Kristin's fault that Danny skirted this important issue completely, waiting for it to surface at the most inopportune time.

Without making sweeping generalizations, as I'm about to do, I'm a bit miffed at the whole thing. If Danny had a problem, Danny should have addressed the problem. He should not have waited for the problem to explode or dissolve on its own, and then blame Kristin for the problem's being there. It wouldn't have been an issue if he hadn't made it one. Thomas, if the issue was bugging him, on his buddy's account, should have talked directly to Kristin instead of going over to Danny and undermining the relationship with potentially toxic information.

I guess all I'm trying to say is that the Boy Network is just as powerful and deceptive as the Girl Network, and both could use a bit more common sense in their delivery.

Taco Bell

I mean, you gotta give the boy credit for trying. Most guys see Kendall and just get bladder discomfort.

Taco Bell Employee (male): "Would you like to get a drink, ma'am?"

Kendall (female): "No thanks."

Taco Bell Employee (persistent male): "I meant would you like to get a drink with me?"

Kendall (confuzzled female): ". . . . . . . . . . . " (Promptly walks away.)

And that, my friends, is the classic BYU scene I witnessed not three hours ago. Oh pick-up lines, how I love thee! It's an invasive way to break the ice, but it sure does get attention. Like this: "Your lips look wrinkled. Do you want me to press them?"

That one is pretty great, and I'm sure at some time I may use it to my advantage. (Again... where is my boyfriend?!) but I've heard some strange / gross pick-up lines as well. And so today's blog is an open forum. Tell me about your best / worse lines and I'll rate them in order of how heinous / effective they are. Won't that be fun? ... you know you want to.

"I lost my phone number...can I have your's?"

Addendum

According to Kristi, there has to be an addition to the Hugs post.

17. The arms around your neck I want to grab your face and kiss you hug. So. Hot.

Not to be confused with what a bear does while mauling you.

And then there's the bad list addition:

7. The dead fish hug. Way worse than the dead-fish hand shake.

Dressing Up

Is a sure-fire way of getting my attention. I'm very happy the occasion for boys to wear tuxes doesn't come along very often, because that would be crazy. As is, I think tuxes are the suavest, nicest things on basically anyone. Even I look good in a tux. The only person on whom I despise a tuxedo is James Bond, and I pretty much hate him anyway.

So the sad thing is that we don't live in the 1800s, and there are few reasons to dress up these days (except church.) Sometimes I just want to pin my hair up all elaborate and wild and wear a formal dress. It's just one of those things. It's hard not to feel pretty when you are so shiny. But these opportunities to look / feel glamourous are few and far in between. Sad day for the fashion industry, and sad day for Brittany!

Kendall, I think this is the time for us to play dress-up at the mall.

Hugs

Are pretty much the best things ever invented.

Here are some of my favorite hugs:

1. The movie star hug.
2. The hug you get when a boy unexpectedly comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Sigh...one of my personal favs.
3. The "I'm happy and I'm going to throw my arms around your neck" hug.
4. The pick-me-up and twirl me hug.
5. The "good night, our date was totally awesome can I see you again?" hug.
6. The "I want to kiss you, but I'll hold back for now" hug.
7. The crying into Boy's shoulder hug.
8. The "I can hear your heartbeat" hug. Sigh, love this one too.
9. The "leaning" hug. Best for kitchens.
10. The hug-into-kiss-back-into-hug hug.
11. The I love you but can't say it otherwise hug.
12. The I'll miss you hug.
13. The hug that doesn't really end, you just sort of wind up holding each other and talking while standing hug.
14. The I don't ever want to let you go hug.
15. The "how did I ever find someone like you?" hug.
16. The little kid / baby snuggle up to your chest hug.

Not such a fan of:

1. The pat on the back hug. Nearly as annoying as the head pat.
2. The doorstep scene "I can't wait for this date to be over, so why are you hugging me?" hug.
3. The "which one of us smells funny?" hug. This one is most alarming.
4. The "oh no...he's going to kiss me and I don't wanna kiss him!" hug. This happened once in high school...
5. The half-hearted hug.
6. The "I'm a popular girl, let's hug for the sake of looking cool" hug.
7. The virtual / digital "consider yourself hugged via email cause I'm lazy" hug.

Anyway, that's my thoughts on that for today. I think I need a hug. Preferably from the first list. Where is my boyfriend?

Nail Polish

As a matter of fact, I'm not really sure why girls paint their fingernails. The nail solution smells horrid, kills brain cells, and is most likely bad for the environment. That and almost the second you paint your nails, it starts chipping. You look good for a few hours, which Boy won't notice anyway, and then you have these strips of colour marring your otherwise lily-white, pure hands. It's like you're trying to look unpresentable. If ever I had a job interview, I would completely clean my nails, trim them, and make sure they were devoid of all color. It's supposed to be one of those power tactics -- clean, non-rough, warm hands are supposed to make a big impression at interviews, if only subconsciously. Ask Dad. He's the one who told me so. He said if your hands are cold or dirty before an interview, you should always go to the restroom and wash them in warm water.

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. Painting toenails is a completely different story, since I'm a big advocate of doing it. Again, I'm not really sure why. It's not like I want people to look at my feet. Feet are gross. I'm not saying this because I live with Rachel who has a serious vendetta against the Foot in general, I'm just saying that aesthetically speaking, feet are not the most pleasing to the eye. I guess having painted toenails slightly alleviates the offensive nature of the toe in general. And it gives me something to do with that extra five minutes between listening to CDs and dinner, or the break between Lord of the Rings: I and Lord of the Rings II.

I think I should market scented toenail polish that makes your feet smell like lilacs and inhibits mal-odor in every way.

Laundry

My mother once told me that there are few things more attractive to a woman than the smell of clean laundry. I think her power of suggestion is incredibly strong, because I fully agree with her. I love the smell of laundry detergent and the smell of soaps like Irish Spring (Icy Blast is the best...almost out of control!). Colognes that smell fresh are also a plus. None of this musk stuff...it reminds me of gym class. If a boy wants to get my attention, all he really has to do is rub soap on his skin and walk by. For sure my head will turn in a maximum of fifteen seconds.

So what is it about the laundry-fresh smell that drives women crazy? According to research, it's supposed to create a mental link of getting things done. Clean laundry = wife has done the housework. Wife has done housework = husband is happy. Husband is happy = wife has fulfilled gender role. It's really all quite basic, but I think it says a lot. I know for me, fresh smells and clean rooms make it easier for me to study, relax and feel happy. I like clean clothes, especially pajama pants straight from the dryer. The fuzzy feeling of fleece is also a plus, and make me want to snuggle.

So today's resolve is to go out and buy the new flavor of Tide: Tide with Febreeze. My euphoria was needless to say off the scale when I found out this product exists. How to make it mine?... hmm.

Grocery shopping

Is so much more fun when you go with a boy.

Grocery shopping, for the female, is fulfilling. It's hard to explain. Although it's just satisfying basic alimentary wants through monetary means, it goes beyond that. When you're shopping with a boy, odd as it sounds, you feel like you are making important decisions, and you are making them together. Whether there is a romantic spark between you or not, it's like being married without a title. You take into a account his opinion, add it to your own, and make a purchase. It sounds like rocket science, but it's not.

What I think is fun when shopping is trying to find the best deals. It's a way to basically show off all the good things you hopefully learned from your mother (or feign to have learned...how are they going to know the difference?). And in return, Boy will be adequately impressed with Girl's good sense and economy.

I'm all about these little details in dating and in life. This may sound like I've gone completely south of sane, but I know at least Kendall agrees with me. Going to Macy's sometimes can be a funner date than going to a nice dinner somewhere else. It's all about your company and the conversations you are able to have. I bet some boys would love to know the fundamental principles involved in the wonder of inexpensive dating...

Homework

Today's favorite thing about dating:

Doing homework together.

It's not so much that I like doing homework. On the contrary, I'd rather stare at the wall, watch a movie, go to dinner or paint. But homework is a relentless and omnipresent part of student life, and it must be addressed. So I love it when my boyfriend brings his homework over. Then we can both sit on the couch and study (semi-productively), knowing we're getting to spend quality time together while actually doing the work we're supposed to. It's nice. And after all, if my boyfriend weren't there, I'd probably find some way to distract him from his studies--whether on AIM or through my amazing mental powers that make him think of me. Not that I'm immune to any of that... It's way easier for me to concentrate with Boy there than otherwise, because I don't have to wonder where he is. This limits daydreaming, helps me complete my task, and makes me happy because I know that he's not stressed out as much about balancing the girlfriend and the studies. Plus, there is the perpetual promise of those nice little five-minute breaks for food and sparkling conversation. Ingenius! I'm amazed I didn't think of this sooner...

Welcome to Miss Kendall's House

Which is really a site I created while sitting next to Miss Kendall because she needs a blog. Everyone needs a blog. It's the law of nature. Like everyone should have a phone. Except I have no phone. I just bum calls off of other people. I guess one could say I'm kind of a hobo, but I don't eat chili out of cans, and I don't carry stuff around in a knapsack. On the contrary, I carry it around in a super uber-cool Vic.'s Secret bag. Now aren't you in awe of how cool I am? Figures. It's a natural primary reaction. Wait until you see my paperclip collection. Then I'd really have to stave off all your wiles.

But anyway, I'm sure as you've guessed, this site is for...random jibberish. Whatever I feel like posting. Which will probably entail a lot of dating advice, through the eyes of Kendall.

It is mandatory for you to post comments. I'm sure I could find some creepy way of tracking you down should you choose to view and not comment. It's just downright dishonest and will incur dishonor on you, your cow, and yo' whole family!