Psychoanalyze this!

So last night my friend Dan and I were having this amazing conversation about hott athletes because promising me that David Wright would be on sportscenter was the only way he could get me to watch with him. As I proceeded to tell him all about who was attractive, I realized that most of my favorite guys are way older than me. There's something about a man in his thirties that just really attracts me. This is slightly disturbing because my mom is 42. So we're talking about men who are sometimes closer to her age than mine. It also causes some problems- some of you will remember a certain 54 year old professor who will not be named. I apparently am not that good at telling how old someone is. I spent much of the afternoon pondering this and I decided that I (in my naive state) appreciate the idea of an experienced man... someone who isn't crazy awkward and who realizes the subtle importance of helping a girl put on her jacket and opening the door. And to be honest, I think I intimidate the guys my age. I've always been mature for my age, and I really enjoy being around guys who don't flinch at the word vagina. The only problem with this is that all the guys who are old enough to interest me are married or divorced or if they haven't been married kind of scare me (how do you make it that long as a boy without getting married?). Since married is out of the question... Ha ha! and I don't really want to pick up someone from the reject pile...that leaves divorced. Yay. Who wants to be a step-mom at twenty-two? So we're back to the million dollar question, Why am I soooo special?

I don't fit in the box...

Something that is, and always has been infinitely annoying to me is that people consistently make wrong assumptions about me. I have a mother who is an ACDC loving, Neiman Marcus shopping, Mercedes driving, socialistic, crazy city person. And a father who only listens to Willie's place, hunts in his free time, drives a flat bed toyota pick-up, thinks Mitt Romney is liberal, and is a retired rodeo cowboy who says my hometown of 2,500 is getting too BIG. Looking at me, it would be easy to assume that I'm a lot more like my mom. I dress well, I have many more hand bags than I could ever use, I drive a compact eco-friendly car. And all the outer signs confuse people into forgetting that I'm way more like my dad. My hometown is my favorite place in the entire world, I actually started crying when I heard the song "Where I'm From" on the radio today because I was so homesick. Out of all the fancy expensive restaurants I've been to, I prefer the Parowan Cafe. I go to elk camp almost every year. I'm a decent shot. Despite the fashion boots and freshly manicured hands I am not afraid of dirt. I'm not afraid of hard work. I love driving my dad's Ford 350. Camp fire is one of my favorite things. The smell of dirt is another of my favorite things. I love going to the horse races.
The main point of all this information is that I am a complex person. One minute I am a high maintenance sissy from the city and the next I'm covered in dirt showing some boy how to pull weeds. Don't underestimate my ability to do anything. My entire life I have had to be a city girl and a country girl. Don't take that for granted. I'm educated and well spoken, but don't be surprised if I drop the t in mountain or the o in iron. Most importantly- I'm an octogon- not a square or a circle, so don't be surprised when you try to fit me in the square/cirle shaped peg...I'm warning you now, I won't fit.

My funny life.

So, I lead a life that entertains me very much. I just thought everyone would like to view the dialog from some of my favorite conversations that have happened recently.

Jimmy: So Romeo grabs his lunch tray...
Jessica: You have a friend named Romeo and you didn't tell me.
Nick: his name is Nick, but we have a lot of Nick's so they call everyone different things.
Jessica: What do they call you Pfeiffer?
Nick: Pfeiffer.
Jessica: Oh.
Ben: They call me Ben.

Scott: Everybody has to yell at the people on the side of the street.
Jimmy: Hey you clowns!
Scott: You suck!
Ben: Heeelllooo Pedestrians.

Mom: Jessica, what is a rainbow party?
Jessica: No.
Mom: No what?
Jessica: We are not having this conversation.

Ben: Jimmy, you are stupid.
Jessica: Thank you. Knucks.
Jessica: Ow!
Ben: I kind of just punched your hand. I apologize.

See, I don't need friends of my own. I have four fourteen year old boys who do the most retarded things in the world to entertain me... And a completely inappropriate mother. I will never be bored.

I Hate Endings

All of my life I have secretly wished that I was Scarlet O'Hara from Gone With the Wind. I don't know why, but I have always been very drawn to the story. When I was in high school, I used to watch the movie all the time in an effort to make myself feel better- my life was not nearly as bad as hers. I had never mistakenly spent the greater part of my life loving the honorable Mr. Ashley Wilkes only to find out that I really loved my husband the day that my best friend died. And I had certainly never had my husband leave me with the words, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." I knew that as long as my life wasn't as bad as hers I would be fine. However, I finally read the book and had a crushing realization... I have my own Ashley. " 'He never really existed at all, except in my imagination,' she thought wearily. 'I loved something I made up, something that's just as dead as Melly is. I made a pretty suit of clothes and fell in love with it. And when Ashley came riding along, so handsome, so different, I put that suit on him and made him wear it whether it fitted him or not. And I wouldn't see what he really was. I kept on loving the pretty clothes- and not him at all.'" Scarlett spent 12 years "loving" Ashley. Cut that in half and I'm starting to feel pretty bad about myself. Ha ha. At least I recognized that my Ashley didn't fit the suit before the love of my life walks out the door.



Another realization that I had was that I have separation issues. With people, books, and television shows. Yes, I know...I'm a weird person. But whenever I know something is going to be over I drag it out. I put off watching the last episode of Gilmore Girls for weeks. I had to force myself to finish Gone With the Wind. When did I get so sentimental? I hang on to friendships that I should have let go of many moons ago. Also, I want to marry Rhett Butler. I think that he may be the main appeal of the story. It's funny how much I learn from books- especially things about myself. Ha ha.

Learning how to properly blog.

No thanks to Miss Cecil (haha) I learned how to make my blog cute today. Aren't you guys so excited? Thanks Bridge!!! Love your guts!

People who matter and things that don't...

What I really meant to say was people who don't matter, but that didn't sound nice. Ha ha. Lately I've been realizing what relationships in my life matter and who I actually care about. And let me tell you, the relationships that are most important are the ones I put the least amount of effort into. It should be that way. Friendship shouldn't have to be a hard thing. Thursday Caytee and Preston stayed with me in Vegas. Let me tell you, Caytee and I are complete opposites in so many ways, but our friendship has always been so easy. And we can always find something that both of us enjoy doing. Even if we haven't talked for weeks, I can pick up the phone and everything is exactly the same between us.
There are a lot of people in my life like that. I feel kind of like an idiot for spending so much time trying to make friendships/relationships work with people when it took so much time and energy. Most people like me. I get told frequently that I am a very likable person. I'm done working at things that should come naturally. I haven't talked to most of my problematic friends for quite a while now, and let me tell you, I don't miss them at all. I always thought that I would. But no. Is that bad?

Now let me tell you about some things that don't matter. What you do for a living: honestly, I wish someone would have told me this years ago. I always based my self worth off of the idea that I needed to have this major or this job or go to this school. Seriously, people keep assuming that I'm bored not working, that it must be driving me crazy...Heck no. I'm catching up on my reading and movie watching. I started doing crafts again. I have time to go on a walk and I get to sleep, which we all know is one of my favorite things. I also figured out that it's not the end of the world if I don't get into the graduate school I want to go to. Adapt. Change. I can be such a spoiled brat sometimes. But I'm done throwing temper tantrums when things don't go my way. Recently I've discovered that I'm scared of almost everything. I'm so sick of that. I'm also sick of the idea that I need to do something amazing with my life. Why can't I just be ordinary. What's wrong with being a normal person?

As Preachy as I Get

Hey everyone should go check out www.mormon.org. Even if you are a member of the church- it never hurts to brush up on doctrine.