Brits Please!

As I was studiously reading my political science textbook the other night (and by that, I of course mean reading all of the assigned chapters furiously the night before the test) I came across the most astounding survey. It said that 40% of Britons didn't know that the United States was once part of the British Empire. 

Seriously, England? I mean, this is a pretty big part of history. In 1783, the sun finally set on the English Empire. The Island of Misfit Colonies defeated it's creator in an 8 year long fight to the death. I'd say that's a pretty big deal. 

Have you even seen National Treasure? That movie is basically the film representation of the typical US History book. Unless you were snogging during the whole movie, I think you would have realized the plot is centered around the severing of the ragtag group of colonies from the great British Empire. I think that movie makes it pretty clear that the founding fathers not only committed treason by declaring independence from Mother England, but that the Freemasons in fact did bring the treasure of the Knight's Templar to America. (It also taught us that if you're in trouble with the US government for stealing a priceless historical document, you can bribe your way out of it with treasure, but that's a lesson for another day.) Three irrefutable facts taught to us by the one and only Nicolas Cage.

(^Best history/life lesson teacher ever^)

This makes me wonder what our cousins across the pond have been taught about the great Revolution? Do British History teachers do the same thing US History teachers do when they skip over the Vietnam War  (Don't tell us "we simply don't have the time to cover this part of history" when we spend 3 weeks on Andrew Carnegie alone)? Have they Tiananmen Square'd the war? How do you cover up an EIGHT YEAR LONG CIVIL WAR, ENGLAND?

                                    

I mean, do the Brits think that Americans climbed their way up through the fiery rings of hell, broke through the crust of the earth, and spawned a nation of gluttony and sloth? (Please see The French Revolution for more on gluttony and sloth.) Seriously Brits. I feel as though this is a big part of your history. You should embrace the fact that your motherland birthed us. But then she ignored us. And so we started wearing black, listening to that loud, unholy music, hanging out with that kid down the street who is up to no good, got some piercings and tattoos, started reading that secular hogwash, and engaging in all manners of disruptive behavior until Mother England finally noticed us. I'm sure she thought it was just a phase, but she just didn't understand! So we rebelled, defeated Mum England, and started a new country (that failed for the first 2ish decades, but we came around eventually), just as any neglected teen would.

Of Gorillas and Dreams

We've all heard Cinderella and her bird friends sing the tune "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes". I've always thought it was a nice little idea... Until my dream last night.

 Listen, Heart, I know you mean well, but why would you wish to fly in an airplane piloted and attended to by gorillas? I really don't understand why you would want that. Can't you just stick to pumping blood, and leave the wishing and dreaming to my brain? I think my brain is a little more logical, as it was wired to be that way. I just don't think the heart was wired to dream. I'm sorry, Heart, but it just isn't your job. You tried your best, but it left me terrified and confused. It's just not meant to be.

And I like the dull interior of a plane; I don't need my seat to be amid leaves, trees, vines, and jungle wildlife to enjoy a flight. I think I'll stick with snarky women serving me my Cran-Apple juice and pretzels, and let the gorillas stay in the zoos where they belong, thank you very much.

(^This is OK for a flight^)

(^This is not OK for a flight^)

 I have had an irrational (who am I kidding, it's completely rational) fear of gorillas since an innocent trip to Hogle Zoo this summer. All I was trying to do was recreate that heartwarming moment between Grace and Sidney (the gorilla) in Return to Me (if you didn't tear up at that scene, you don't have a heart! (I realize as I'm typing, heart comments probably aren't the best comments to make in relation to Return to Me.))

(^This is endearing^)

Anyway, the great brute charged at the glass, punched a metal strip, and pounded his chest menacingly, making me scream like a 13 year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert and leaving me with Pithecophobia. So, thanks for the effort, Heart, but can we just stick with the dreams about the royal family, Harry Potter, and travelling the world (preferably in a commercial jet, sans gorillas)? Thanks.

(^This is terrifying^)

It's 1:38 On a Sunday

I realize this title would've worked much better yesterday at nine. And there isn't a regular crowd shuffling in. I am wide awake (as usual. Unless you are reading this, Mom. In that case, this is an extremely rare occurrence. I am usually 4 and a half hours into my slumber at this point.) Here is my week summary:
1. Improv workshops. Two of them.
2. Work. Homework. Class. (Except the two I slept through. Again, Mom, if you are reading this, I am working very hard and making excellent use of my time and tuition money. I would never dream of doing anything more than a blink in one of my awe-inspiring classes.)
3. Salt Lake Comedy Carnivale with the improv troupe I'm in- Logan Out Loud. We kicked ass (unless you're reading this, Mom. Then we kicked hiney.)
4. Newsies Night with Logan Out Loud. (Mom. It's not like I had a test or anything I should have been studying for instead.)
5. Regular Logan Out Loud show, then Village Inn after. (Mom. I am not wasting my college money on eating out and other frivolous things. I am not wasting my precious homework time either.)
6. ScorDAYse with Logan Out Loud. We watched an intense Martin Scorsese film Saturday morning. (Mom, if you're reading this: it was Hugo. Don't worry... PG family fun...right...)
7. Awesome date night with fellow ward members and neighbors. (And one person who didn't fit either of those categories. But said person was awesome, so I'll let it slide.) We went to the Jump Zone, then ate pizza and had a grand time! (Mom. I wore my helmet at all times on the trampolines and my floaties in the foam pits. No need to worry. Safety first!)
I am remembering more things now, but 1.) I want them to be in order of occurrence, and I am too lazy to rearrange numbers to make it work. and 2.) I really don't think my multitudes of readers (3) really care that much. With that said, I guess I'll sign off and watch Netflix for awhile. (Mom. Watching Netflix is the slang term for going to bed and getting a good nights sleep. All the cool kids are saying it.)
Until my next post (I promise my next one will be more exciting! (Just kidding, I really can't promise that)),
Brittany.
PS: Here are some pictures of 1- Logan Out Loud at the SLC Comedy Carnivale (guess which one I am!) and 2- The Jump Zone with my awesome date Caleb

The Prologue

 I'm a lifetime resident of Cache Valley, Utah and currently attending Utah State University. I don't have any real reason to start a blog. I'd like to think it will become a Pinterest sensation, and housewives everywhere will visit my blog to seek laughter and inspiration. In reality, I will probably post three times before Christmas, then cut my losses and quit. But you may say I'm a dreamer (and I'm not the only one), so I'm going to keep this dream alive for as long as possible (probably till Christmas), but who knows?! Maybe I will gain momentum and become the next Six Sister's Stuff (Probably not. I don't cook enough.) Honestly, as I'm writing this post, I still have NO IDEA what I'm going to blog about. I'll follow the advice my brother gave me when I started high school: "fake it till you make it". I've lived by that motto long enough that applying it to blogging shouldn't be too big of a problem (hopefully? I don't know. I don't know how to blog. What if I forget a "Food Friday", or a "Wedding Wednesday? Will you hate me? Please don't hate me.) Anyway, enjoy this blog while it lasts (and take the foreboding death-of-this-blog quips how you will).