Unofficial Confession: One Direction

Well. Here we go. This is a wee bit embarrassing, but it's gotta be said.

I love One Direction.

There it is. 

And there they are!

Now here's the thing. One Direction has this stigma of being lame because a lot of their fans are little tweeny boppers. That's so dumb. Because they're really talented. Quite recently, I was among the number that mocked them. Just because they have a million fangirls. Who are often obnoxious. Admittedly, fangirls are obnoxious. But hating something because of annoying fans is almost as dumb as being an annoying fan. If we all hated things because of annoying fans, would we ever like anything? Once my family went to a Harry Potter movie, and these people sitting next to us were likely the most irritating people in all the world. Honest to goodness. We still talk about how irritating they were. But do I hate Harry Potter now? No, I do not. Because Harry Potter is better than it's fans, and the same could be said of One Direction. So consider this your official call to repentance. No more judging. Read the rest of this post with an open mind. Because dang it, they are so amazing.

"When did this happen?" you ask. "Good question," I answer. It started one night on a drive home from work. I was listening to the radio, and Little Things came on. I was like, Boo! One Direction! That's for thirteen year old girls who need something to be fangirly about! But I listened to it, because I'm a sucker for accents (as we learned in a previous post). And then I was like, Hey. This is kinda cute. NO! Wait! Stop, Anna! You aren't thirteen! You don't need to be fangirly! And there it ended. Fast forward a few weeks to New Years. Me and my cuz's (yeah, it's a word) were getting our groove on with Just Dance, and I jokingly suggested we dance to What Makes You Beautiful. Turns out that is the BEST dance on the whole dang game. So me and my Soul Sistah Lizzie were like, "Wow. This is good." And then we were like, "Hey. Maybe we like this song." Which then turned into, "Hey. Maybe we like this group." Which then to turned into, "Ermagersh One Direction is the best thing ever!" This is where we're at.

Yes. They're dressed as sailors. Don't even question it.

There are so many reasons I like One Direction. So many. 

Music. Obviously. Their music is really good. Some of it is super catchy and up beat, but there also softer ballads and sad (yet beautiful) soulful ones - really, they're quite versatile. If you've only ever heard What Makes You Beautiful, One Thing, and Little Things, you should really consider listening to some of their other stuff. I mean, those ones are good for sure, really they are, but they aren't even the best stuff they've got. I would suggest listening to Heart Attack, Gotta Be You, More Than This, and Tell Me A Lie. And for sure Kiss You. And Summer Love. And Last First Kiss. Heck, just listen to all of them. It's ridiculous, trying to narrow it down. But because of time restraints (I doubt you're just sitting around, looking for a way to waste away a few hours), if I were picking just one for you to listen to, I would go with Kiss You. Because it's super presh. And just to make it easy for you, I'll put the music video here for you. That's how much I love you.

Second thing to love. They're basically the most beautiful boys in all the world. I mean, just look at them. 

Left to right - Niall, Louis, Liam, Zayn, Harry

Right, right? They are beautiful. You honestly cannot look at that picture and tell me you don't find them in the least bit attractive. It's not even possible. You'd have to be a robot or something. With no heart. Or eyes. Something would need to be wrong with you.

And the best part is, besides being inhumanly gorgeous, they're really hilarious. And quirky. Like, they have real personalities. Here are your explanations (of course I couldn't pass up an opportunity to explain their awesomeness!). Also, more pictures. You're welcome, kids.

Niall - He's Irish, so his accent is especially adorable. And he has this thing. He spends, like, 90% of his time eating. He's got this food obsession. In fact, he once killed his pet fish because of overfeeding. It's quite endearing, actually. I mean, minus the part about the fish. That's sad. He's such a normal person, you know? I mean, as normal as an international boy band sensation can be. And look at his kooky little hat in that group picture! I love it. Also, he writes some of the songs, and they are beautiful, and always gives himself the smallest solos.

Louis - Louis is the funny one. And my goodness, is he funny. If you watch any of their video diaries (I know, I know, so pathetic - but really, you should watch them, because that's what really convinced me they're amazing), you will see what I'm talking about. He's the most random soul. And so funny.  And in spite of being obnoxious (in a really really good way!) he is so charming! It does not even make sense. And he's gorgeous. Did I mention he's gorgeous? Look at that top picture of them all together again. Those eyes are staring straight into your soul. 

Liam - Liam is the responsible one of the bunch. They call him Daddy Direction. Isn't that precious? It is totally precious. He's the really cute, sensible one. He's scared of spoons. I don't think I could explain that one. But I will forgive him his spoon phobia on account of he is beautiful, and he sings like an angel. He also has (had?) two pet turtles. Named Boris and Archimedes. I'm sorry, but those are the best turtle names I've ever heard.

Zayn - Oh my. Just ... Wow. Look at him. He's surely the most beautiful soul ever to walk the earth. The eyes, the jaw, the hair ... I'm sorry. It's just not even fair that people this beautiful exist. Apparently he's the "mysterious" one. And he seems really chill, in like, every picture ever taken of him, but if you watch the music videos and the video diaries, you see that he really is a goofball. Just like the rest of them. Albeit, a very handsome goofball.

Harry - Harry Harry Harry. What to say about Harry? He's the flirty one. I'm pretty sure they're all flirts, because they're attractive as all get out and famous. But he's been dubbed the flirt. Also, he is funny. I like him. And he has a beautiful voice. But he talks really slow in interviews. Half the time I love it because it's just funny, and the other half the time, I'm like, "Dang boy! Get a move on!"

All together now!

Yep. That's that money shot.

There you go. 1D (in case you didn't catch on, that's shorthand for One Direction. See how that works?) in a nutshell. If that hasn't convinced you, at the very least, to give them a chance - I don't even know what to say to you. Except that you are an insane psycho-freak, and I hope you get hit by a bus. (Ignore the bus part - I don't condone or endorse violence. But you really are insane and psycho and freakish.)

I have an un[OFFICIAL] confession, and it turns out I love One Direction.

Unofficially Jealous

Now, I know I'm not the only one. Surely I'm not the only soul who is insanely jealous of Britain. I'm mean, I'm proud to be an American. I fly those stars and stripes with pride. But dang it, Britain is awesome. Let's go over the reasons, yes?

1. Accent

Why is it that everything, literally everything, just sounds better when you're saying it in a British accent? Honestly. Why, for the sake of all that is good in the world, did we decide to ditch that accent back two hundred years ago? We should have kept it. If I became president, the first thing I would do is require British accents to make a reappearance. Anyone caught using an American accent would be sent straight to the gallows. Or maybe just spend a day in jail. I haven't decided which, yet. But come on! Those accents just sound so classy. 

2. Classy

Those Brits are classy. From their accent to their choice of afternoon snack (tea and crumpets - don't tell me that isn't the epitome of class). It just never ends with these people! In my mind, British and Classy are basically synonyms. I love America. But I don't think "class" when I think America. I think fried chicken and Honey Boo Boo (which is truly unfortunate). When I think Britain, I think of the Union Jack, of classy-class-classy accents, and Shakespeare. It's not even fair, really.

3. Attractive

I've heard tell that your average Brit isn't all that much to look at. This may or may not be true, I really couldn't tell you. I've never been to Britain, much to my chagrin. But those Brits that I have seen (you know, movie stars, musicians, the like) are all fetching ridiculously good looking. What is with that? To name a few: Eddie Redmayne (we could end the list here, and it would still be worth it), Jamie Bell, Richard Armitage, Christian Bale, Gerard Butler, Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Ed Stoppard - for the sake of time, we'll end that here. But there are more. So many more.

4. TV

They do TV right across the pond. Well, at least, the stuff we see over here that came from over there. Upstairs Downstairs, Downton Abbey, SHERLOCK (it gets all caps because it really is just that great) - let's just agree that everything (almost everything) Masterpiece is ah-mazing. Let's add to that list Robin Hood (classy classy classy) and Dr. Who (which I haven't seen a whole lot of, but liked what I saw). And basically all those remakes of classic literature done by BBC. And classy makes yet another reappearance in the description of Britain.

5. Accents

They have such great accents!

I am un[OFFICIALLY] jealous of Britain. Dang, they're classy.

Unofficial First

Anyone who knows me, and I mean really knows me, knows that I hate to be first. I was born a second child, and not by accident, I assure you. Being second is my thing. Two is literally one of my favorite numbers (I know, people don't normally have favorite numbers. But I do. And that number is four. Followed closely by two. You see, two would be my favorite, but it doesn't have a square root. It's almost lopsided. Four is the perfect number. It's got a square root (two, the second favorite number), and it's the square root of 16 (another good number). It's just so whole, and square, and balanced. You know? No. I can see that you don't. You know what, don't even worry about it. Suffice it to say that I love the numbers two and four). I'm an excellent Second, and I do not like being a First.

I think to be a First, you've got to be a leader, because all those other numbers come after one. I think a love of adventure is also required. Think about it - you're venturing out into the great unknown without someone to guide you. You need to be okay with taking chances. You've also got to be really confident in yourself, because if you're a First and you aren't confident, there will be no Second or Third. You've got to make people believe in you. And another thing - you have to be really chill. And by chill, I mean a "go with the flow" type of personality. Let's face it - if you're trying something new and you're the guinea pig, chances are good you won't be perfect. You have to be okay with making mistakes and altering your plans to allow for those mistakes. 

And, for all those reasons, I am a Second. You show me what to do, and I'll do it. But I want to know exactly what's going to happen. I need a detailed plan in place, so I can be prepared for every possible situation. I'm not really one to make people believe in me. Like I said, I'm a follower. A Second. Two is a nice, nondescript number. Two flies right under the radar. Just the way I like it. And I do not have a "go with the flow" personality. I'm really quite rigid. I do plans, I do schedules, I do lists, I do graphs, I do flow charts. But a flow chart is about as "flowy" as I get. I don't like making mistakes, and I do not like being wrong. Classic Second, right here.

This is where we find the problem. I feel a little bit like a First right now. Because of this whole mission thing. And I'm well aware that I'm not the very first sister missionary to ever venture off into the world. I know that. But I'm the first from one side of my family, the second from the other (but the first was a boy and I feel like he went forever ago, so he sorta doesn't count - it's different), the first sister mish from my ward, the first in my immediate family, and the first in my friend group. Which is a bummer. I was so sure that Bree would leave before me! She got her call a month and a half before I got mine, after all! But no. I am leaving a month before her. I get to be the guinea pig. I hate being the guinea pig.

And suddenly, this mission thing is becoming very real. It's freaking me out. I got a letter from my mission president yesterday. The envelope said "priority" on it (in Polish, because it came from Poland. Naturally). From some reason, that gave me the heebie jeebies. That letter is physical evidence that it's really happening. The thing is from fetching Poland. It doesn't get any more real than that. 

*And Now, A Self Motivating Speech*

I can do it! I can be a First! It's okay, right? I mean, if this is the Lord's plan for me (and I'm pretty dang confident it is), then what do I have to worry about? He knows far more than I do, and if He wants me to go to Poland, and to go in February, and to be a First, then so be it. I'll do it. I don't think there's any way I can be 100% prepared, with a million back-up plans (for Just In Case situations), but I don't need that. All I need is to know that He has a plan, it's a gazillion times better than mine could ever be, and know that that's enough. What I need to do now, is stop worrying. 

Because worrying is strictly Second territory.

And for now, I'm an un[OFFICIAL] First.

Unofficial Suggestions

Alright kids, here's the deal. I work in retail. It has been quite the experience. I have learned a thing or two about being a retail worker (obviously), and in the process, about a gazillion things about being a customer. Allow me to share these precious pearls of wisdom with you. 

Suggestion #1

If you ask a worker if they have something, and they answer "I don't think so." - they're saying that to be nice to you. What you should read into that is "Nope, we don't." Your response should be something like, "Alright, thanks anyway." It should definitely NOT be "You don't think so, or you don't know?" That just makes them angry. And a little homicidal. Don't be that customer.

Suggestion #2

When worker is at the cash register, helping another customer, it's not the best time to ask a ridiculously long and complicated question. The customers paying for their stuff have been waiting in line for their turn, you can wait in line too. No exceptions.

Suggestion #3

"Please" and "Thank you" are still magic words. If you need help, say please. If a worker does something for you, for pity's sake, say thanks! It will not cost you a thing, but it might help make their night a little better. Seriously. Do not undervalue the power those words have.

Suggestion #4

Returns suck. If you buy something you end up not using, cool. And I can understand returning stuff if you're really tight on money, or if it's something you know you will never ever in your life EVER use, or if it was super expensive and you don't need it. Understandable. But there are things not to return. For example. If you bought one extra piece of paper, just keep it. Honestly. It cost you, what, 50 cents? Keep the freaking paper.

Suggestion #5

When a cashier is trying to talk to you, and being polite and friendly, be polite and friendly back. There is nothing more obnoxious than a customer who doesn't say a single word, just hands you their stuff and their money and glares at you as you ring them up. Don't be that customer either. I hate that customer.

Suggestion #6

If someone tells you, "Have a nice day!" you may either: a) respond with "You too!" (or any variation on that same idea), or b) thank them. You don't just walk away and ignore it. That's irritating. And frankly, I find it quite rude.

Suggestion #7

If you aren't done finding the stuff you want to buy, under no circumstances should you come up to the register, get everything all rung up, and then say, "I'm just going to grab something real quick." That makes the cashier angry, that makes the people in line angry - we're all just an angry angry bunch. And probably there will be enough people there to form a lynch mob. Lynchings aren't pretty. Don't let them happen to you.

Suggestion #8

Generally speaking, cashiers don't mind price checking a few things. It's not that hard, it's not a big deal. But if you have an entire cart full of crap to be price checked, they won't be as chill about it. Especially if you decide you don't want 80% of the stuff you brought up.

Suggestion #9

Don't bicker with employees about prices. Yes, sometimes they're wrong. We're all wrong sometimes. But 99.9978% of the time, they know what they're talking about. If they tell you something's not on sale, chances are extremely good it's really not on sale. Contrary to popular belief, they are not out to get you. They'll give you the best prices they can. Unless you're being a butt, and arguing about prices.

Suggestion #10

Don't tell the cashier what to use coupons on. This goes along nicely with Suggestion #9. They will put the coupon on the most expensive, regularly priced item. They will give you the best deal they possibly can. Your telling them what to do is superfluous, and irritating.

Suggestion #11

"It doesn't hurt to ask, right?" Wrong. It's annoying. Sometimes, people just need to suck it up and find things for themselves. Wander around the aisles for a few minutes, it won't hurt you. And sometimes, people just need to accept that their "special circumstance" isn't special to anyone but themselves, and we can't just go cutting imaginary deals for every single person with imaginary special circumstances. It ain't gonna happen.

Suggestion #12

Don't be an idiot. Idiots are annoying, and nobody likes them.

Those are you un[OFFICIAL] shopping suggestions. Good luck.

Unofficially In Love: Gordon Hayward

In love again? So soon? Yes (don't worry, Eddie Redmayne - you have not been forgotten). But this was a long time coming. 

Gosh darn it, I'm in love with Gordon Hayward. 

Tonight, thanks to my crazy freaking awesome great aunt Tacey and great uncle Bob, I got to go to the Jazz game. Our seats were in the fourth row. Fourth row! I was right up there! I could practically smell the sweat. I was not 10 feet away from Gordon Hayward. Yeah, that close. Best. Night. Ever. 

I LOVE him.

As an added bonus (and a seriously fabulous bonus at that), my seat was directly across from Gordon Hayward's spot on the Jazz bench. I spent perhaps 50% of the game gazing at him. Very sneakily, of course. Except (and this may just be my imagination but I'm pretty dang freaking sure it wasn't), I maybe wasn't that sneaky, because I think we maybe made eye contact approximately 8 times. As in, prolonged gazing, and perhaps a little drooling on my part. Seriously though! I'm not even making this up! This has perhaps been the happiest night of my life. 

I really love Gordon Hayward. He is the coolest. And he seems so wholesome, you know? Not like some professional sports players who let the fame and money go to their heads. He's really down to earth. And besides that, he's an amazing basketball player and super freaking cute. What's not to love?

Oh PS- The Jazz totally won! By a ton! Whassup, Kirilenko? Hayward had a great game with some freaking awesome plays, and Burks (Favorite Number 2) had an amazing backwards slam dunk! Good grief - that was the best. Best game ever. For reals.

I'm un[OFFICIALLY] in love with Gordon Hayward.

Unofficially In Love: Eddie Redmayne

I'm in love quite a lot, as it turns out. Which is fine, I guess. I mean, I'm never even going to meet any of these people in real life. Why not be in love with them all? I really don't see any reason for me to pick just one.

And so, today it is Eddie Redmayne. The lucky winner. 

Well, hello, Best Picture Ever Taken!

How I love that man. If any of you have seen Les Miserables (which you all for sure should have seen - those of you who haven't ... I just don't even know what to say to you. Go see it. Like, now. If there is a theater near you, and it's not unreasonably late, go and see it), you know what I'm talking about. He is just amazing. Just amazing. 

I saw him first in Tess of the d'Urbervilles. And fell promptly in love with him. And then forgot him just as quickly in favor of some other beautiful boy. However, the story has a happy ending, because now I love him again! I think what drew me to him in Tess, besides being the obvious love interest of the story, was the innocence about him. Which is perfect for the character of Angel Clare. He isn't supposed to be some ridiculously gorgeous, hunky guy (yes, hunky, people still say it). That's much more Alec d'Urberville's line of work. Because there's supposed to be this stark contrast, you see, of Angel and Alec. Where Alec is worldliness, Angel is innocence. And Eddie Redmayne is perfect for that part.

Look at the massive amounts of cuteness going on right here!

He plays a similar role in Les Mis. Marius isn't the raving revolutionary (even though he looks a teeny bit like that in the movie) like Enjolras. Enjolras has a really enigmatic and noble personality - he's a leader. Which is why he leads the rebellion. Obviously. But Marius is swept up by the rebellion partly for the memory of his father, and partly because his friends happen to be revolutionaries. He really is just a boy in love. Which, again, Eddie Redmayne is perfect for! Isn't that just the best? 

Good. So much good is happening in this picture.

Oh, and that voice! Speaking and singing, no less! When he sings Empty Chairs At Empty Tables - good grief! Not only is the singing incredible (like, seriously incredible), the acting is just magnificent! You can see the emotion. It practically gets up and bites you, right on the face. I was so impressed. When I heard he was cast, I was thrilled, but I didn't know if he could really sing. Turns out he totally can. I am pleased.

And while we're talking Les Mis - IT WAS THE BEST MOVIE EVER! Yes. It was. Also, Eddie Redmayne is the best boy ever (perhaps I'm exaggerating ... but whatever. Who cares?).

I am un[OFFICIALLY] in love with Eddie Redmayne.

Unofficially Awkward: The Great Bow Debaucle

Sometimes, working retail, you run into awkward situations. I recently began working in Floral at Bennion. Which is fine. I quite like working Floral. Except when people ask me to tie them a nice bow. Because the Floral managers have not yet seen fit to teach me how to tie a good bow. Usually when this happens, I just call over Denise or Debbie or Mike, and they make a bow, and all is well. Occasionally, this plan fails because they are not at work. Such as tonight.

It began much as any other night at work. I was bored. I wanted to go home. I was bored. When, much to my surprise and joy, my parents came in! I really love getting visits at work from my fam. So I talked to them, and as we chatted (briefly), I saw behind them the most beautiful boy I had ever laid eyes on. Like a young Brad Pitt with ridiculously blue eyes. He was gorgeous. He was wearing this really nice, dark green sweater with a white button-up shirt, and this red and green plaid tie - mmmmm. And he had a really nice watch. All these things combined to make one good looking man.

And now, for your visual.

This is him.

And this is me.

He looked like he had a question (probably, "Hey, excuse me, do you know where _______ is?") Naturally, my first instinct was to run. So I ditched my parents, answered the phone to look busy, and I counted my escape a success. Though I was not disappointed to see him walk past me a couple times (don't judge - he was seriously beautiful. You would've done the same thing). And so lost was I in drooling over his devastating good looks, that I was caught quite by surprise when he spoke to me. I thought I was home free! And then - no. I panicked. I'm almost certain my face went beet red (which is stupid, because nothing embarrassing has even happened yet!). He asked me if we had any cellophane bags he could put a gift basket in. I was like, "Yeah, they're over here, blah blah blah. Panic panic panic." And then he was like, "See, the gift's for my sister (Awe, cute!). And we sort of have a contest to see who can have the fanciest gift wrapping (Huh. That's interesting) and I'm kind of in a hurry because the party's tonight (Procrastinate much?). Do you think you could help me out, if I just bring the stuff in?" And before I could actually think, I heard myself babbling about "Yeah, sure!" and "No problem!" Stop Anna! Abort! Abort! There's a big problem! And it's called, you don't know diddly squat about wrapping fancy baskets and tying fancy bows. 

As soon as he left to get his stuff, I went in search of a bow-tier. I asked literally every soul working. And, because such is my luck, none of them knew how to tie bows. I really got myself into a pickle. But I couldn't say no! I couldn't possibly disappoint such a beautiful being (which is ironic, because saying I can help, and then having to admit I don't know how to tie bows is much more disappointing than just telling him, "Hey, sorry, can't help ya" from the start). 

When I get back from my unfruitful search, he was already standing at the counter with his stuff for the gift basket. So here we are. We get his gift all wrapped up in a basket and cellophane, and then we reach the inevitable moment when he asks, "Can you, like, tie it with a big bow? It needs lots of razzle dazzle." These are his exact words. And then I'm like, "Er, well, I can try!" I can tie a decent bow, but it's just the normal everyday kind. Not the "razzley dazzley" kind. I attempted a bow. I tried. I really did. But it was awful, even by my low standards.

It looked something like this ... But possibly worse.

After I finished tying it, we just sat there in silence for a minute. Staring at it. I was trying to summon the end of the world that I was promised, and he was probably trying to think of a polite way to inform me I shouldn't be volunteering to help wrap Christmas gifts. I suggested that perhaps if we used some gold ribbon, along with the red, it might look better.

It didn't. It was pitiful. So pitiful, in fact, that Mr. Young Beautiful Brad Pitt asked some lady looking at the ribbon (yes. Just some random customer) if she knew how to tie a bow. It was that bad. I mean, it wasn't an ugly bow. But it was much nearer an ugly bow than I would have wished.

Thankfully, the woman knew how to tie a bow. Hers looked all beautiful and professional. So the story has a happy ending! Some random lady got to show off her bow tying skills, and the Mr. Young Beautiful Brad Pitt got his razzle dazzle bow. And I got to slink away slowly, praying for the end of the world.

Oh, and after that, I got a bloody nose. I was dripping copious amounts of blood, and got to go home early. In shame. So much shame.

I am un[OFFICIALLY] awkward.