Do I talk about my parents too much? Don't care.

So yesterday I called my parents because I didn't call them on Sunday. My thought process was that even though I try to call them every Sunday, they live in Utah now, so I don't have to call them anymore. But then on Monday I was sad that I hadn't talked to my parents so I picked up the dang phone and called them. I can talk to my mama and pops if I want to, ok? Get off my back about it. I told them I didn't have school or work on Tuesday because the universe is simultaneously loving and hating me right now. Then my mom was all, "well if you don't have anything tomorrow, why don't you want to hang out with us?" And I was like "Shoot, girl. Who said I didn't want to hang out with you? Let's partyyyyyy." Those were probably not my exact words.

Moms and pops picked me up from my apartment and took me to browse new phones at the Verizon store, which I'm super hyped about. Then we went to lunch at Magleby's Fresh. Highlight of that trip: I learned that when you spill your mom's water all down the front of your jeans, your parents mainly just laugh at you. But also you mainly just laugh at you because it's pretty laughable. And cold.

Next stop: Bowling in the wilk. We walked around the bookstore first and Mama thought it would be fun to tour EVERY building at BYU. Which is a little weird, because, you know, she went to BYU and has kids that went there and has pretty much been in every building. I mean, she used to take naps in the ROTC bathroom. You can't really get more familiar than that. But then we bowled, and dad didn't have his own ball or shoes and it was pretty much disastrous for everybody.

But that top score is mine. Deal with it, parents. Also I gave everyone their bowling names. Me: The Sprinkler (as always) Pops: The Colonel (what else?) Mama: Melby Tuesday (of course). Oma didn't play the second game and I didn't take a picture of it because it was basically just my father rocking my face all over the bowling alley. He crushed me into the dirt. That's how pops rolls.

After that I talked my dad into buying me an ice cream cone. I felt like I was 6 again. It was magical. Mint brownie perfection.

Here's the thing: having my dearest life givers in Utah is pretty great. They're gonna be living here and I realized that means I can just go bother them. Be like, "what up, pops! want me to kick your butt in some racquetball?" any time I want! Unless they live real far away. Then I guess not. Unless I move in with them. Then I guess so. I guess we'll just never know, will we?

Despite my lovely day, my night killed it all. The love of my life, Bruce, also known as my 2004 Ford Focus, decided he hated me tonight, and just quit. Despite the efforts of me, Kendra, James, and Scott (really just Scott's presence), we could not get that key turned. Of course, Gary Keck (Superman) strolls up to it and gets that dang thing started. He just doesn't take no for an answer. Just another reason why he's the best most magical man I know. But now I have to get my car figured out and fixed and whatnot and blah blah blah grumpy grumpy ugh. This post took a sour turn. Let me try to redeem myself.

My friends are awesome! My life is wonderful! My parents are rock stars! I love everything!