I'm Baaack.

I'm definitely back in college.

I had tomato soup, orange sticks, and french bread for dinner. (Don't mind the orange sticks. Just... getting into the holiday spirit. Nom, nom, nom.)

I also wrote two papers, read and took notes on a chapter, AND took an online quiz. Boo-yah. (Hi. I'm from the 90s. Obviously.)

And I got in one of those really weird moods, where I laugh at EVERYTHING. Only no one in my apartment was talking. No one. But everything was bizarrely funny to me. Like I misread a pin on Pinterest and laughed for like, half an hour to myself. I DON'T KNOW WHY, people. Maybe I WOULD follow a pinboard called The Perfect Panties instead of The Perfect Palette. I mean. That seems like a worthy topic, doesn't it?

Depicted above is a rug, in the shape of some underwears. Panties. UGH. Can I tell you something, while we're on the subject? The word panties makes my skin crawl while also filling me with some serious delight. I cannot put a name to the feeling. It's like, almost embarrassing but so perverse/hilarious that I just can't banish it completely? I can't decide if I love it or hate it, but something I DO like, for reals, are cute panties.... UNDERWEARS. Under..things? Hahaha. See. And right there I hated it. It feels ... it felt like a word describing fabric that hangs down with your nether regions. THERE I SAID IT.

My mom buys me underwear for every holiday - Easter, Halloween, Valentines Day, etc. That probably seems super weird, but it's something I love. Cute underwear is just nice. I also own a yellow pair that says "I Love Everything" and then on the bum, proceeds to list everything I love in a swirl of happiness and tiny words on one cheek. This cheek includes things like, hamburgers, ponies, sunny days, laughing, rain, etc. ALL THINGS I LOVE. I may have told you about them before, but they are awesome. Rest assured. And it saddened me when I realized at the end of the summer that they were about ready to retire.

I don't exactly know how you retire a pair of underwear. Do I frame them, like a jersey, and then invite everyone I know over to watch me raise them to the ceiling in some sort of unholy, tearful pantie-fest (see, I loved it there. It's the most illusive word), where we all remember the good times we've spent, being inspired by their sweet yellow goodness?

(Do you guys remember that episode of Spongebob, where he and Patrick are fighting, and when you see Patrick's underwear, they're yellow, and Spongebob's are pink. And it's tender. Until after they hug and Patrick says, "You know. These were white when I bought 'em." But mine were always yellow. Sort of. No. PROMISE. They were.)

Guys. They are my lucky underwears. My most mentionable unmentionables. Me. In a pair of pure joy. I love them.

So. I guess just.. think about that the rest of the night? Thanks?

Also. You know that lingerie shop on Kaysville main? The one that's got Pepperbelly's panties all in a bunch? (still loving it.) Yeah, well. Cody knows my hatred(/love? I JUST DON'T EVER KNOW.) for the word panties, and he used to always combine that with my fascination of turning T-sounds into d's, and he'd say, "PREDDY PANDIES" in the most awkward voice you ever heard. Every time we passed the store.

... We passed it like. Every day.

It never got old.

But it was creepy. To the max. And should've made me feel terribly awkward. So. Naturally, I loved it.

P.S.

Harry Podder, coddon, kiddens, middens, buddons, loddery. Have a great night.