It has been snowing in Utah Valley. When it snows, that means it is high time to rip out the ugly bulky sweaters and the comfy snow boots. Snow boots are the best invention ever, in case you are not aware. So today I decided to be huge sweater and clompy boot clad.
You see, these clompidy clomp boots that I bought while living in the Rex of bergia are probably my most favorite purchase I have ever made. The first day that it snowed in Bergerville, I went outside in my common, everyday boots. I was so excited for there to be snow on the ground. I stepped off of the curb and did a full on back flop. I just like to entertain college students, so it was rather necessary. I laid there for a second, looking, as I imagine, like an exceedingly large cockroach turned upside down and scrambling for its life that seemed to be slipping away. After I was done with cockroach time, I flipped over and walked directly back to my bed. Of course, I surveyed the damage before climbing into the sanctuary of the bed. Undoubtedly, my bum was nearly the same hue as the bluish-grayish sky that had dumped that blessed snow upon the blessed ground that gave me the blessed bluish-grayish hued rear end. Oh, the circle of life.
After a nice little nap, I spent a solid hour pouring over numerous online stores in attempt to find the cutest snow boots, with the best grip, at the best bang for my buck. Well it worked. I thought they were so fly. (Today, I understand that they are common, every day boots that do not have super powers. Bummer.)
The day that I got them in the mail, I planned the perfect outfit to go with them to wear the next day. Man, I thought I was a babe.
I walked into the building that I worked in on campus, feeling like the hottest thing to walk those halls. (In my clompy snow boots, mind you. Yeah, sometimes I don't think about what I am doing/feeling.) As I neared the stairs to make my graceful, womanly, colmpy, descent, a girl from behind me told me that she liked my boots. I turned around to graciously accept the compliment, as any proper boot-clad woman would, and I proceeded to turn back around to finish my descent. To my pleasure, I finished it in a wonderful fashion, complete with the dying cockroach pose, because that is what I am best at.
Yeah, I am aware there was no point to this overly detailed story.
In other news, I have a Costco card, which brings me great pleasure, for reasons unbeknownst to me.
While at Costco for the first time the other day, (which is a story in and of itself) I decided that I needed protein bars. I decided this because I leave my apartment at 7:00 am, and sometimes don't get back until after 8:00 pm. Needless to say, my ravenous self crawls, like a tired cockroach, (why am I obsessed with cockroaches today?! And since when can you tell that a cockroach is tired by their crawl?!) to my apartment and eat everything in sight. To prevent this, I thought that I would get protein bars (because peanut butter and jelly gets old and sticky). They're quick, easy and fill you up.
I went to the protein bar area in Costco, and picked up the box that had a picture of the bar that looked the most delicious.
I have been eating one every day. Let me tell you, they are yummy. I noticed that I have been taking trips to the ladies room more than usual. I was curious as to why. Naturally, I decided to check out the protein bar nutrition facts.
SURPRISE!
They are not protein bars. They are fiber bars. Whoops.
Oh well, they taste good.
Also, my bulky, warm sweater is itchy. I am about to rip it off of my body and throw it in the recycle bin. If you see a girl walking about or traveling on the bus in her skivvies in Utah county, you now know why.
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