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I need a prescription for Xanax if I’m EVER going to enter the downtown post office again. It’s like a damn daycare in that place.

The woman in line behind me had four kids with her under the age of five. OH MY GOD! My vagina just hurts thinking about that. I have nothing against children; I just like them clean and well behaved. I’ve been around enough children to know they can be loud and rambunctious, but these kids were neither of those things. These kids were of the devil.

Most parents that I know like their children to be tolerable in public. This mom wasn’t trying to keep her kids quiet; she was encouraging them to be loud by conducting spelling lessons as we waited in line LOUDLY, and in a horrible singsong, high-pitched voice.

“That’s a garbage can. Can you say icky germs?”

“ICKY GERMS!”

“What letters do you see on it?”

“W-A-S-T-E!”

“Do you know what that spells?”

“Recycle.”

Normally the recycle part would have been adorable, but the decibel and crusty snot level made it far from adorable… miserable even. It’s obvious that if I ever have children I’ll have to hire someone else to raise them. I can’t deal with turning into the woman who sings alphabet songs loudly in public.

My love of books dates back to childhood where I spent a good chunk of my childhood either at the city library, or the county bookmobile. Man I miss the smell of that old bus full of books. Bookmobile night was the highlight of my week.

Each time I visit the country I find myself driving to the library. Old habits die hard I suppose. On this last trip I noticed something new:

A ‘NO CAMPING’ sign at the city library! Every sign is posted for a reason, so I can’t help but wonder who was camping out at the library. I’m hoping it was some semi-nerdy little blond girl who wanted first dibs on new books. Because THAT, that would be fucking adorable.

I’m relaxed and ready to take on the week after a country girl weekend with Kelli. More than ever I’m convinced she needs to move back to Utah if only for the sake of keeping me happy and productive. I need to prove to her that Utah has just as much to offer her as California, if not more. I mean, really, where in San Diego is she going to find a hotel that offers this?

The one day I leave the office without logging off my computer I come back to find this as my background:

I made the mistake of telling the office nerds how annoyed I was at the tea bag protests. This is my own fault I SHOULD KNOW BETTER! They were quite proud of their prank, and truthfully it is pretty funny.

To read the online version of this week’s column for In Utah This Week go here. To download the PDF version go here.

I put pants on and went to Heather Armstrong’s book reading and signing event tonight. I really, REALLY wish this lady had followed my lead:

The end of the semester is a mere two weeks away. I’m a nervous wreck!

I’m terrified to take my research final; I’m trying to finish my final projects, register for the next two semesters AND arrange an internship. Oh, and did I mention I have a job I need to work into the mix? I’ve been stressed out and not sleeping well.

When I have trouble sleeping weird things happen. This morning for example, I woke up this morning I noticed a couple of strange things. First of all I had glitter on my legs. Body glitter only means one thing, yo. STRIPPERS! Upon further inspection I looked into the mirror and noticed I was wearing lipstick. I rarely wear lipstick so waking up with red robust lips is completely out-of-character.

I’m obviously a stripper. There’s really no other explanation.

Well, actually there is.. my new self-tanning lotion has glitter in it. I’m annoyed that the label doesn’t have a hooker warning.  Also my lipstick debacle isn’t really lipstick at all. I accidentally bought the tinted lip balm instead of the regular and placed it on my nightstand.

The scary part is that it took me two days to figure this out. TWO DAYS IS A LONG TIME TO BE AN IMAGINARY STRIPPER! I just hope the money I made isn’t imaginary money and is hanging out in my bank account right now. Fingers crossed.

Have you watched a movie in a theater with a howler? You know that person that laughs at the most inappropriate times LOUDLY? I’m that person. It sucks but I just can’t help myself.

Yesterday my friend Ryan and I went to see “I Love You, Man.” We’ve seen movies together before but always suspense or dramas, never a comedy.  He had no idea what he was getting into–although, the fact that I laugh hysterically over the stupid “shut your cell phone” promos should have been enough of a warning.

The movie started and I instantly started laughing at the most awkward parts of the film. From the concerned look on his face I think he was worried that I was having a seizure, or was choking on my tongue.

I tried to tone it down. Really I did. I just wasn’t successful. When I try and hold laughter in I feel like my face is going to explode. Face explosions are a LOT more distracting than hyena laughter, or so I keep telling myself.

Ryan didn’t complain, but I have a feeling we are going to start seeing a lot of depressing films from here on out.

Look at what the Easter Bunny brought me today:

Only it was actually Susan that gave it to me, and she gave it to me last week, not today. So really my Easter is a giant lie, but thanks to Susan calling me a bitch it will be a drunk one!

I didn’t make it to the country thanks to a broken water pump in my car. Thankfully I have a brother who is more than happy to fix it for me. Yay for family, even if you don’t end up spending Easter Sunday with them.

Congratulations Pooba, Dena and Nicole! I’ll email you soon. Thanks again to Judy for sponsoring the giveaway!