The Funk.

Guys. I've got the funk.

Not the cool, 70's, beat-you-down-with-justice-in-roller-blades-and-impossible-short-shorts, funk.

Not even the, yeah, I'm a nun, but by HEAVEN I've got funk, funk.

I've got the gunk funk.

I woke up last night sooo many times, and I seriously thought I kept having dreams where I was crying. THAT'S how much crap there is coming out of my eyes. Sorry to be sick-nasty with you, but guys. It's unreal. I went to the doctor today and he told me I had a VIRUS in my eye. K thanks BYE, doctor. A virus?! In my flippin' eye?

I have to wear glasses ALL week and put it eye drops like. Every four seconds. Except for the fact that I'm going to rebel. Cause I REFUSE to wear glasses to State Drama this Saturday. I will not stand for comments that the judges would've liked to have seen my eyes. (I have a harder time making eye contact when I wear glasses. I really don't know what it is, but, subconsciously, I just make way less eye contact whilst behind my frames. It's the creepy elementary girl, comin' back to play... and play quietly.)

So. Let's review.

Glasses+State Drama Competition = A BIG FAT NO!

... Glasses+Prom later that night? Ehhh... I feel I could make it work. Hahahaha. She definitely did: Ahhhh, yeah! GET IT, girl.

Also... while we're on the subject, let's just talk about how flipping weird my dreams were during my funk-filled night.

In one of them, a girl may or may not have chosen to confront me about something that happened nearly a year ago... And then proceeded to slap me. Hard. :/ She had a lot of rage! And also, sort of a boy haircut in my dream. And she was wearing tights as pants. They're NOT pants, people. This is the point where I usually like to quote my beautiful friend, McCall.

"Once I tried on a pair of jeggings. I looked like Catwoman."

And she DIDN'T mean in a good way.

Look. I realize that not all of you know McCall, but take my word for it. If she can't pull them off... no one can.

Anyway. Another of my dreams consisted of Coach Horne (Yeah, you read correctly.) trying to force me to swim in the deep end of our school pool and face my fears. Except it was the BYU diving pool. And when I tried to explain that, dude. I'm definitely NOT a student there, he just started spouting inspirational speeches at me about how many steps there were on the ladder to the high dive.

"37, Ballif. 37. And you climb every. last. one. until you're not afraid anymore."

????

His head was just so shiny and he was just so adamant that I had to conquer my fears.

He brought in his whole high school gym class to watch me. It was like ninth grade, alllll over again. Hahahaha. And I was in one of those high-cut bathing suits. :( And I only know two people in real life who can pull those off, let's just be honest.

Let's review one last time. This:

+

= One dream you can't wake up from FAST enough.

Even if it does mean a sleepover with the funk. Woof.

(and just as a p.s. I would NEVER wear just cargo shorts swimming. Especially not if Hell froze over and somehow found me looking for swimming refuge at the BYU dive pool. Being topless there just seems like a little much. Even for me.)

DOUBLE P.S. (writing P.P.S. feels like too much after the topless picture) I found out Coach Horne's real name is Bennet while yoinking that picture off the school website. I always just thought it was Ben. I don't know why that made me laugh a lot. But it really did.