the curious case of brooke schroeder

location: san diego

watching: tootsie (not a proud moment for me)

last ate: doughnut (its just a rough day all around)

i want to: kill my dad's bird. her name is spuggy and all she does is say my name over and over.

last movie I saw in the theaters: curious case of benjamin button. great movie, very long, but it made me feel like sitting down and thinking about my life and honestly I had no desire to think about my life right now.

last person I talked to: in person? Jake. on the phone? kristina.

I AM SITTING HOME ALONE, WATCHING TOOTSIE, EATING DOUGHNUTS, AND CREATING MY OWN BLOG QUESTIONNAIRES. WHY DID I COME HOME AGAIN!?!?





the weather is excellent, though.

My favorite part of New Years

THE TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2008!!!!!

My own list, other people's lists, any list I can find, I LOVE IT. I love listening to music for hours and hours and agonizing over each album. Bumping an artist off the top ten is heartbreaking and invigorating in a way I can't even explain.

Still in the works.
To be posted when 2009 is officially here.


SNEAK PEEK OF PEOPLE WHO WILL DEFINITELY BE ON THE LIST
-the dodos
-mgmt
-sigur ros

January

January is coming, which is awesome and terrifying all at once, like a beautiful stranger knowing your name and you don't remember him at all. (You can't ask how they know you, you just have to play it off and call them "buddy" or "chief" and hope they inadvertently remind you of your history).**

A change reallllly needs to happen. I've been in a big fat rut the past month or so and I'm ready to get out. Stretch my legs. Meet new people. Feel cute and smart again.

Here are my steps to that plan.

1)Running. I used to run three miles a day, six days a week. I freakin' miss what a release it was. It got me out of my head when I was making myself crazy. And it gave me a sweet bod. I don't think I'll run quite as far as I used to, but hopefully I can get back into the frequency.

2)Reading. I love reading. The past two months have been almost completely without the beloved past time. I just finished Crime and Punishment (for the second time. geeze it got hard to pick it up near the end, there). Next on my list is some kafka and ellison. Hopefully Utah will provide me with enough opportunities to speed right through those bad boys.

3)Not being sick. I don't know what it is, but I've been sick three months out of the seven that I've lived here. Even as I type this I'm feeling dizzy and nauseated and there is no good reason why.

4)Be good. Back to the basics. You know, being meek. Taking out my plugs. Deleting some of my sludge metal. Small things will help.

5)Be FREAKISHLY ACTIVE IN THE WARD. I wanted to do that here in Sacramento, but my job + watching the girls + not having a car = me being borderline inactive. gross.

6)Read all my old journals from last time I was in Utah. Remember the craziness. Embrace its memory, but make sure it doesn't happen again.

7)Date ALOT. Don't get stuck on one guy just because he seems ideal. I'll bet thirty bucks that he isn't. I used to be the master of having many men at once. What happened, Brooke? Where did the magic go? It wasn't a bad thing, dating alot. Why did people make me feel like it was? It was waaaay better than this whole dating-one-person-then-feeling-physically-ill-when-it-doesn't-work-out. Ohhhhh maybe thats why I feel dizzy and gross right now. That makes sense.

8)Make lots of lists. I enjoy them. They work for me.

Ok that is enough. Some things I need to do once I get there include: Find a job. Buy groceries. Buy cooking utensils. Buy laundry detergent. You know what? I can steal half that crap from Kristina. Nevermind.

**that reminded me of when I was dating this guy up in Provo and I could not for the life of me remember his name, but I somehow knew his last name was Brady. I called the kid Mr. Brady for like two months. True story.

The Photoshoot

After discovering I still didn't like my blonde hair, a friend of mine decided we should have a photoshoot. It started kinda normal and ended really bizarre.


But in the end, it helped. The blonde is starting to grow on me.

No, I'm not naked. Yes, its strange. But I think its awesome. Mariah makes me want to be in America's Next Top Model. Thanks girl.

i can do it i can do it i can do it i can do it

Facebook stalking a boy in Provo who I am interested in. Cute. Cute. Funny. Cute. Wait, I know those girls.

Those girls lived above me in the dorms. Those girls found me crazy and shaking and worse and those girls know things about me. I don't remember talking to them but I remember being in their rooms. They will remember me. They will. They will talk and talk and talk

and all the good boys will hear and hear and hear and I will cry and cry and no one will look at me without knowing in that whole town no one.

I can do it I can do it I can do it I can do it

Is this who you wanna be like, Huh? Like him?

Article from the Jewish Journal

"You know I don’t like linking to Jonah Goldberg, but this column from last week is just too poignant to pass up:

Did you catch the political ad in which two Jews ring the doorbell of a nice, working-class family? They barge in and rifle through the wife’s purse and then the man’s wallet for any cash. Cackling, they smash the daughter’s piggy bank and pinch every penny. “We need it for the Wall Street bailout!“ they exclaim.

No? Maybe you saw the one with the two swarthy Muslims who knock on the door of a nice Jewish family and then blow themselves up?

No? Well, then surely you saw the TV ad in which two smarmy Mormon missionaries knock on the door of an attractive lesbian couple. “Hi, we’re from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints!“ says the blond one with a toothy smile. “We’re here to take away your rights.“ The Mormon zealots yank the couple’s wedding rings from their fingers and then tear up their marriage license.

As the thugs leave, one says to the other, “That was too easy.“ His smirking comrade replies, “Yeah, what should we ban next?“ The voice-over implores viewers: “Say no to a church taking over your government.“

Obviously, the first two ads are fictional because no one would dare run such anti-Semitic or anti-Muslim attacks.

The third ad, however, was real. It was broadcast throughout California on election day as part of the effort to rally opposition to Proposition 8, the initiative that successfully repealed the right to same-sex marriage in the state.

What was the reaction to the ad? Widespread condemnation? Scorn? Rebuke? Tepid criticism?

Nope.

This newspaper, a principled opponent of Proposition 8, ran an editorial saying that the “hard-hitting ad” was too little, too late.

The upshot seemed to be that if the pro-gay-marriage forces had just flooded the airwaves with more religious slander, things would have turned out better.

At a pro-gay-marriage rally in Los Angeles after the vote, chants of “Mormon scum!“ were reported. Envelopes containing white powder have been sent to Mormon temples in California and Utah; vandals hit other temples. Lists of businesses to boycott—essentially Mormon blacklists—have sprung up on the Internet. The artistic director of the California Musical Theatre resigned because of pressure after it was revealed he gave $1,000 to a pro-Proposition 8 group.

It’s amazing. Hollywood liberals, who shout “McCarthyism!“ as a first resort, see nothing wrong with this. If Jews were attacked in this way for giving too much money to a political cause, Barbra Streisand would already have a French passport.

Never mind that Proposition 8 carried nearly every demographic slice of voters. Put aside the fact that the Catholic Church and scores of other Christian churches supported it too. Discount the inconvenient truth that bans on gay marriage have now passed in 30 states. It’s all the Mormons’ fault.

Certainly there is a concern that a witch hunt is brewing. Remember what happened with the manager of El Coyote. It seems like more blacklist than boycott. And the Mormons are taking on the brunt of it.

Why? Not sure. Probably because many Americans, especially those living in large urban cities, like Los Angeles, find Mormons a bit strange. (See: “South Park,“ two clips of which is after the jump.) I think we call such displacement of blame scapegoating, which I don’t need to tell the dangers of to folks reading a blog on jewishjournal.com.

But writing in the JPost, a spokesman for the Orthodox Jewish organization Agudath Israel of America, claims the assault on Mormons threatens all Americans who want to live by their holy scriptures:

The scenario of religious people - and institutions like churches, synagogues and mosques - being branded as bigoted simply for affirming deeply-held religious convictions is around the corner. And eventual prosecution of the same for voicing those convictions is only another corner or two away.

What began as a plea for “rights” is rapidly, and noisily, morphing into an assault on freedom of speech and conscience.

Thoughts?

Feline Bloodbath

On the leftside of my sister's house is a path the runs through a couple of blocks in Lincoln Crossing. Across the path and a few doors down is a house that is haunted by at least 5 cats, all of which are irresistable to my 2 nieces.

Today the children and I are running amuck in some incredibly long grass. It is the kind of grass that is brilliantly green and lays down on itself, looking like a prime nap location, except for the fact that anyone caught there would be SLAUGHTERED BY VILLAINOUS CATS.

Let me explain.

Fluffy white cat is near my feet. Ryah plays with her by hopping up and down very close to her face and then screaming at her. Fluffy stays pretty calm through all of it and ignores her. Taylen is holding Michael, a generic looking calico. (These are not the actual names of the cats. This is just what I think they would like to be called)

A certain dog appears on the path. Lets call him, Saul. Saul is in the wrong part of town.

I tell Taylen to put Michael down. I have personal experience when it comes to holding cats and getting near dogs. Ask anyone who has ever been offered some Schroeder home videos. Me screaming and crying is the top of the list.

Michael stands in front of Taylen, totally still. Fluffy melts into the bushes next to us with the most terrifying stealth I have ever beheld. Suddenly I realize there is a third cat, who I previously named Clinker, across the path, equally terrifying in his phantom movements.

Then, to my complete mystification and horror, I see a fourth cat in the tree DIRECTLY ABOVE MY HEAD. All four cats have created a perfect square within three seconds, and are staring at Saul with such intensity I swear the temperature goes up 5 degrees.


I'm pretty sure someone is about to bust out a knife or an old board with nails going through the end of it (Although, Clinker does look like more of a brassknuckles kind of guy...)so I grab the girls and bail.

As I'm running, I hear a few barks, an explosion, then silence.

I ran down the beach naked

I can't believe I haven't blogged about this yet.


Welp....the title pretty much says it all.
There you go.



-Brooke


p.s. OH YEAH and I got paid 90 bucks to do it. And it was still pretty early and there were lots of peole around. And two of my three sisters peed their pants. And I danced around.

I'd do it again.

Something that makes me laugh out loud.

There is a blog called gofugyourself.com that is all about mocking what celebrities wear that makes me laugh. Alot.

The other day they posted a picture of Britney Spears and then what Britney Spears would say.

"Look, y'all! I totally didn't die! Don't lie: I KNOW you know you know I know you thought I was gonna buy the farm that time I shaved my head and hit that SUV with the umbrella, but truth is, I was just acting out, y'all. I feel like I sang "Lucky" over and over and over and over and over again and NO ONE HEARD the part where I was talking about how I cried cried cried in my lonely heart and if there was nothing in my yadda yadda why did the tears etc? That was the MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THAT SONG, PEOPLE. AND NO ONE LISTENED. Ergo my incarceration and stuff. ANYHOODLE, I'm out now and let's get right to the point: I look GOOD again. My dad doesn't let me eat anything white and, sure, there are days when I think about those Melendez brothers or whatever their names are and I totally understand why they killed their parents but in the long rung, I am pretty sure he's right that I'm happier with six-pack abs. And now I'm back on magazines again and they're not all like, "BRITNEY: WHAT WENT WRONG" or "BRITNEY: CAN YOU LISTEN TO HER MEGAMIX WHILE DOING CARDIO WITHOUT FEELING REAL BAD ABOUT IT?" or whatever and boy am I relieved about that because everyone acting like I was going to kick it was totally embarrassing. Now I get to be all strong and have comebacks and be the underdog and stuff and everyone knows that's a way better story than someone who never had any problems in their life ever, JUSTIN. So anyway, I think I look awesome on this cover and my weave is fantastic for once unlike some people who have really bad highlights but think they're better than me just because they never hit anyone with their car, to which I say, WAIT TEN MINUTES JAMIE LYNN BECAUSE YOU ARE SOOOO GOING TO WANT TO HIT WHATHISNAME YOUR BABY DADDY WITH YOUR CAR. You just are."

hahahahahaha
its like she is standing RIGHT HERE.
oh man.

Couchsurfing Closure

As of last night, I no longer have a couchsurfing account. Couchsurfing is when you meet people who wander the city, and they use the website to find places to stay. You have to go through a verification and approval process, to make sure no creepy molesters are hosting people.

I only used the services of a fellow couchsurfer once, but it was a pleasant experience. Free bed, free tour around the city, new friends. It was a good time.

Now, remember that guy who was stalking my blog and was the reason I went private? He is the reason I canceled it. Yeah. The guy is awesome. I really hope he follows me around the world wide web ruining things for me for the rest of my life.

If you're out there looking at my blog, YOU STINK. PLEASE GET A LIFE AND FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO HARASS.

thanks.

Its a small mormon world, afterall

Last night I had a dream, but it wasn't a fantastic eating-spiders-and-flying sort of dream, it was just a flashback to a real event but it was insanely vivid and clear.

It was my last night in Provo. It was chilly. I was with my friend Paul, who I had classes with and had hung out with before but never just the two of us like it was then. He was one of the few people who knew I was leaving.

Anyway, so I woke up this morning thinking about him, and go look at his facebook. I left him a comment about it, even though he is on his mission and can't check it.

I'm doing routine facebook stalking (pictures, history, mutual friends, info, etc) and here is what I find under info:

Well everyone...i am off. I will be serving a mission for the LDS church in Roseville California for the next two years. If you want to write me here is my address:

I can't believe it! I've been living fifteen minutes away from the guy for seven months! I drive past his house when I go to singles ward! It is delightful and I love it.

I'm writing him a letter.

Guest Appearance

As I am the queen of finding myself in random adventures, I recently helped some boys I don't know with their puppet music video about george washington being stalked by a homicidal hippo. Upon further investigation, I discovered they are kind of a big deal and that I am now on their videoblog.

http://www.dreamofthehippo.com/


Check out video blog #6 titled "we burned our fingers". It features myself and four other children. I speak very little, as it is not my blog. We were filming just us for a solid thirty minutes, after we had spent an hour or more making cardboard puppets dance.

I'm dead center. My friend Julia has a beard on for the majority of it.
Awesome.

Law and Order SVU Sucks this season

The view from my parents house is awesome.


As for the blonde....
Before

After

I'm Blonde

we're talkin platinum.

pictures coming soon.

Postcard Mystery

I've had Jesus Christ Superstar on vinyl for a solid year now. I bought it before I had a record player because if it were physically possible to make love to a record this would be the one. I have loved that rock opera since I don't know when, thanks Dad for introducing us. This one's gonna last. I can feel it.

So I was looking through all my records (since I recently bought a record player) and pulled out that little treasure. I pulled out one of the sleeves and two postcards fell out. They were written in Spanish and looked ancient. Here is the translation:

#1
Dad-
Everytime I remember everything that I've gone through to become a Doctor, it makes me very grateful and it makes want to cry out of pure happiness and satisfaction for what I feel.

#2
Dad-
Its a day like any other that I'd like to take the opportunity to tell you that I love you very much.

Alberto Robles

Mystery of mysteries, both post cards were dated the same day but neither of them were sent, and they seem to be written by different people. The second postcard was written in formal ustedes (sp?) but seems far from formal, with all the love talk and whatnot.

Alberto Robles, I have been aching to find out the rest of your story but I have no way of doing it. If you are out there blog stalking and you find me, help a sister out and make me part of the loop.

Thanks.

p.s. thanks to logan for translation.

I'm Competitive

revelation: I'm competetive. Not generic, I-have-to-win-every-game competitive, but specifically this-game-symbolizes-more-and-i-want-the-ball-in-my-court competitive.

Today I was playing chess with an ex of mine. I've only played chess a few times, and he has alot of experience, so I shouldn't have been really annoyed when I didn't win, but I was. I was soooo grumpy. I couldn't figure out why either because I usually don't care who wins at things. I don't care if you run faster or figure out crossword puzzles first.

Turns out if I used to date you and we are still on uncertain terms, I'll totally care. I'll care so much that I'll flirt and mess with your head a little just to try to even the playing field. Evil? Yes. So so evil. I'm really used to having the upper hand in relationships, and if I don't then I must regain it in other ways, be it chess or flirting.

I must win.

p.s. sunday I did not sleep. got home monday morning around 8 and slept til 2. now its 2 am tuesday and I still have to pack for our road trip to San Diego we'll be leaving for in five hours.

awessssssomeeeeeeee.

Antsy

I've been incredibly antsy for about a month or so. I love Lincoln and my sister and everything, but I despise being in the same place for so long. I have this incredible wanderlust that I must satisfy NOW.

I feel like I'm terribly socially awkward. I'm not as inspired as I once was. I have nothing original or interesting to say. I'm not incredibly intelligent. I have no impressive talents. I'm not gorgeous. I'm banal and average and stuck in a rut and if only I could move I'd be fine.

I'm not saying this in a "poor brooke" sort of way, rather a "this is how I feel right now" sort of way.

Nothing makes me hate myself more than not being able to make a boy want to be with me. I'm never the heartbroken one. NEVER. Its not like I plan on breaking hearts but thats just always how it has ended up.

I can't tell if the pain I'm feeling is coming from my heart or my ego.

Thanksgiving: All 4 of the Schroeder sisters recently single and not happy about it.

watch out san diego.

My Brilliant Idea of How To Be Awful and Get Away With It

Want to do something awful and get away with it? (ie Streaking, Hitting a child in public, pushing over an old lady) Yell one of these phrases during the act, and you'll be in the clear.

"For Science!"

"Fire!"

"Not agaaaain!"

"For Obama!"

Imagine yourself running down the street naked. Can you see how each phrase would totally allow that behavior?

Happy Streaking.

I long to see the mountaintops

I registered for classes and it has officially made me excited. I think I passed a few classes when I was there two years ago (book of mormon and biology) but other than that I am still a freshman and still needing to take GE's.

Classes I've signed up for:
American Heritage, "lifestyle management", and doctrine and covenants fulfill GE requirements. Creative writing and psychology are for fun.

13 credits, which is kind of scary since thats not exactly easing back into the whole "learning" thing, but if I go full time I'll get fulltime scholarship money which is definitely needed. I would've been golden, money-wise, but the state of california is stealing everything I own through its court system. AWESOME. THANKS CALIFORNIA.

Ooo yes I'm in the club

Yesterday around 9:15 I get a call from a friend of mine from church, Julia. I don't know Julia very well, but everyone I have met say I remind them of her. She is calling to invite me to go clubbing. Even though I just had the longest 3 days of my entire life, I decide to go.

I gank Nikki's ID since mine is still in the grips of The Man, then I head out to make trouble for the establishment.

SO MUCH FUN! I get to meet interesting people, my age, we all go together. Julia makes me laugh. We dance, we sing, we freeze. Handsome strangers buying us water. Overall, pleasant evening.

Next day, really tired. We didn't get home till around 3 since the club was downtown. Now that I think of it, Nikki's ID worked like a charm. Do I really look 26? Interesting...

oh yeah- I got a letter from a missionary who I correspond with regularly. I feel the need to warn him about mormons being public enemy #1 to liberal america. He is in Japan, knows nothing of it, but he's coming back soon. Meh. I'll let him get filled in when he's back in the states.

President Monson, President Obama, Prop 8, geeze. Alot to come home to.

It's Raining Spiders

Last Tuesday I had the day off, so (of course) Sam decides its an awesome day for a meeting, and calls me in.

Which means I have to get up and put on real clothes and ride my bike to work.

I go get my bike. I brush off the cobwebs that have taken over it in the 24 hours since last I rode it.

I bike down the driveway. I brush a spiderweb strand off my face. I pedal to work, and stop several times to notice beautiful, free- floating webs.

When I get there Sam decides he wants to have the meeting outside. I don't listen to a word he says because of a massive web floating behind him for fifteen minutes.

I go back home. Spiderwebs are covering the spot where I had (two hours previous) pulled my bike from.

CREEPY. I KNOW.

Today a coworker of mine, Tracy, came in to work and we were discussing topics at random. We bring up spiderwebs somehow and I mention the freak amount I had noticed on Tuesday.

"HOLY COW BROOKE. ON TUESDAY IT WAS RAINING SPIDERS!"

She goes on to tell me that her boyfriend was washing her car when she noticed at least twenty tiny baby spiders on his shoulders and arms. After hosing him off, they went into the garage to towel down. A little girl started screaming in the street. They turned and looked outside and saw "literally thousands" of tiny baby spiders, all floating on webs. A girl on her bike was covered.

Upon further investigation, it turns out Tracy lives on my street.

Does this actually happen? How many full-grown spiders were involved in this mass birth? For those of you in Lincoln: Was your daughter attacked on Tuesday? If so, she did not make up a story about thousands of baby spiders nearly eating her face. She is not being dramatic.

Give the kid a break.

Vocab

Why are certain words no longer threatening? Back in the day if I called you a braggart or a rapscallion, I'd get my hat knocked off.

Now? No. Not at all. Let's bring it back, people. While we're at it, lets bring back some of my other favorite words. I'll demonstrate them in context.

"The drugs you put in my punch have made my left half completely insensate."

"I'm sure they're having one boffo spring fling, despite the deaths."

"We should've put a kibosh on the mass peyote trip when we heard about it."

"Brooke Schroeder is scintillating"

I hope the sentences were clear enough for you to get the basic idea. If not, I'll try again.

Just

by Radiohead.
One of the best music videos of all time.
Makes you think. Makes you crazy.

The Almost Perfect Bookstore

For those of you in my area, I have a recommendation. Take any and all books that you have been thinking of donating and take them to the Almost Perfect Bookstore (off of douglas).

You get 25% of the sticker price of the book, and you can either get cash back or store credit, then wander around and pick out used books that you'd like to read for free!

I went there this week and snagged a few books that have been on my "to read" list for quite some time.

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, The Great Short Works of Franz Kafka: The Metamorphosis, In The Penal Colony, and Other stories by Franz Kafka, and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. Once I'm finished with Crime and Punishment I'll move on to those bad boys. I get really excited about books. Too excited. And I always end up buying books instead of trading them because it is really difficult for me to give certain books up. What if I want to read it again, even if I have already read it five times?

Next time I'll stray from the classics and focus on more modern books like The Time Travelers Wife by Audrey Neffenegger, The Privileged Planet by Gulliermo Gonzalez, and The Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut.

Any suggestions? Holler. Need a suggestion? I'm here for you. I've traded books with friends who live far away before, and it is fun. Getting anything in the mail is fun, but it borders hysteria when it is an excellent book.

p.s. that post entitled Memoir was my first stab at a book I've been debating writing. I was hoping for more feedback but it seems I've scared most of you with it. C'est la vie!

Please

tell me what you thought

Memoir

She doesn't know the specifics behind the impromptu roadtrip and she knows better than to ask. Alanna is a pale and long-limbed girl, often described as a "sweetheart," but hangs out with a group that is loud and obscene. My group. She may speak softly and seem innocent, but she keeps up, and she surprises us with her crazy side.

I know the reason for this visit is too ugly, too surreal to put into words, and even if I could explain it she would laugh and not believe me. Such is the curse of being the funny friend: no one listens. I could say something awful and they'd giggle. I could confess to murder and be very specific about the weapon, the victim, the method, only to be met with laughter and waving hands and people chortling out "Hah! You are awful! Stop stop!" Mental note: rewrite crime & punishment, include revelation of humor being the key to the perfect murder.

We drive 2 hours, until there is only desert. She doesn't read directions because I don't need them- I have made this trip before. I turn off whatever Indie/Shoegaze/Acoustic brilliance we are listening to.
"We are going to pick up a payment from Mike," I explain as we get closer. She doesn't know who Mike is and she doesn't ask.
"Well, from a place Mike often leaves them. I called yesterday and his goonies put it there."

I breathe in slowly and tell her that if they- the goonies- are there waiting for me I'll make her drop me off a block down and drive away. I tell her that, I tell her I'll meet her five blocks back in half an hour. I tell her I don't want them to see her or her car, she'll get involved automatically. I tell her if I don't come back to call the cops. She laughs and then stops when she sees my worry. Up until now the car ride has been casual and light, I'm very good at keeping things casual and light; however, the closer we get to the house the more I realize I am getting my friend in the middle of something and she needs to understand it, she needs to understand the getting-in-the-middle-of that is happening right now.

We make it to the house and I see no cars outside. I exhale and smile. I hop out of the car and run to the door, only to find there is no payment in any of the usual spots. Suddenly I'm furious and I call Mike several times. No answer. I leave threatening voicemails and scream into the receiver. I see Alanna, wide eyes and wide mouth and still wondering if she should be laughing at me. Still? Still wondering?

"Just ring the doorbell. Look inside, can you see it inside? Lets try the backdoor."
"No, this isn't a real house."
"What?"
"This house is not real, Alanna. Its a drop off point. People don't even go inside." True, except for that last part.

She stops and doesn't understand and is suddenly afraid. I am so mad, so mad at Mike for screwing me over, so mad at the stupid goonies he hires who smile and slap and smoke cigars and chuckle at aching souls, so mad at this hideous house in the middle of the suburbs, mad at the adorable lawn gnome and porch swing that make it look like someones grandmother lives here when in reality the gnome hasn't seen anything but drugs and money and scared people, people brought here to be beaten and broken in one way or another, physically or mentally or spiritually or gramatically or geographically I don't know how but one way or another you die when you accept an invitation past the calico cat welcome rug.

No answer on the phone.

Mike and his goatee and his huge mouth, exactly what I'd imagine the devil to look like. I think he worked on that, actually. Worked on looking like Lucifer. He sure had the laugh down. And the company. No answer on the phone. I have forgotten why we came there.

I run into the backyard and grab a brick. Lets burn this place down, lets break in the door, I'll show you I'll show you how broken it all is! ALANNA COME ON no no no what are you doing get back in the car COME ON COME ON Come on COME ON break it down with me I need you to break this door and smash the walls in and throw yourself at it- did you bring your lighter we can send a nice ashy message to SatanMike and his goonies, his minions, his demons ...and the houses! The sweet white houses and their innocent potted plants and beautifully cut lawn and its how all the bad houses want to look but guess what there is NOTHING INSIDE maybe a couch or two for appearances but there is nothing inside! I've been inside that house, I've been in there and I don't want you to be in there I hate THINKING ABOUT IT IN THERE AND WHAT AND HOW AND WHY IN THERE WAS LIKE THAT AND I HATE IT AND I HATE YOU

I've been in that house. I am that house. I throw the brick.

epiphany

I finally feel at peace with some intense feelings I've had about an old friend of mine. I was treated poorly by this person, have not seen or talked to her in a solid two years, but have still maintained nothing but hurt feelings and very real disdain.

I just randomly ran across her blog.

I was expecting to be filled with the usual discomfort (not liking her, feeling guilty for not liking her, feeling justified in my dislike, etc etc), but I was only met with sincere joy for the excellent choices she has made in her life. She is in a much better place than I ever would have thought. Her old ways of hurtful words and selfish actions seem to be behind her, and I'm just now feeling like I can let it go.

It is a big deal for me to feel this way, its a relief.


Do yourself a favor and forgive someone who was mean to you, even if they are oblivious to the hurt.

Do everyone else a favor and please do not gossip. Mormon girls have very sharp tongues, which sting their friends and end up slitting their own throats.

I'm sure heading back to BYU will be a painful reminder of that, especially since when Logan and I were there a couple of weeks ago I got some pointed stares, and actually heard the words "that is brooke schroeder" and saw fingers point. NOT JOKING. I was everywhere when I was at that school. At every party, flirting with every girls boyfriend, and acting crazy. I was thinking maybe my mania at the time gave me an inflated ego, but since I actually heard my name and saw different groups of girls pointing at me, I think its safe to say its not all in my head. People talk, and it sucks.

Please be nice to even the crazy ones. I promise you, you don't know the whole story.

Happy Voting Day

I have to admit, when Tina Fey (as Sarah Palin) used the word "mavericky" a solid ten times in the skit about the VP debate, I fell over with laughter, and felt like she had stolen some of my material. I had mocked the overuse at my job, but no one laughed since I work with 17 yr olds who make smoothies. The point is, that word should only be frequently used if it is in reference to a western movie in which Jodie Foster actually looks female.

While "The Maverick" is a really awful nickname for good ol' boy McCain, there has been much worse. Prime Minister Trudeau of Canada was known as "Lil' Fart". Prime Minister Thatcher of England was called "The Milk Snatcher," which is more rhyme-y than offensive.

My favorite, though, was when I heard people calling John Ewards "The Breck Shampoo Girl". He really was making politics pretty.



hahaha oh man.

now get out there and vote.

I use the word 'erotic' in this post. Now you want to read it.

What is more awkward than a hot dentist? Answer: nothing.

Imagine you are me. As me, you are really good at hitting on men. You fear regret more than rejection. Based on that logic you will ask out guys WAY beyond your league (physically), which they are usually so surprised by they say yes. It works well for you.

Now imagine you recently became single. Are you imagining it? Does your chest hurt? Do you feel nauseated? Good, good. Focus on that.

So you go to the Dentist, because your teeth haven't been looked at by a professional in at least two years and theres a good chance the little suckers have fled to Mexico by now, and there he is. He goes by Lyle, and despite what you'd think for a dental assistant named Lyle, he is hot. He smiles and touches your leg. He makes a joke. Flirting. The glory!

You're wearing your old jeans and a The Who t-shirt. You rode your bike there. Not ideal, but hey you gotta work with what you've been given.

Knowing Lyle is coming back soon, you pull out Palm Sunday by Kurt Vonnegut and put on your intellectual face, which is strangely close to your highly-medicated face, but whatever you've got the face going on.

Walks up. Conversation. He mentions he wants to get back into the classics. You, being a severe book worm -which has only recently been helping you romantically- pull out Crime and Punishment (you always have a second book with you, and it is always a different genre. Occasionally you'll have a book of poetry, too. You carry lots of stuff around, is what I'm getting at)

Here is your chance! Offer to let him borrow it! Write your name in it first, so that he can't steal it (ha ha I jest! I am clever and attractive!), put your phone number in it too so he can call you when he is finished. Maybe he can return it over candles on a beach somewhere, whatever works for him!

and then...back to the reason for the visit...the fitting of the mold...Lyles beautiful fingers hidden by latex... now in your mouth... its really on the fence if this is getting erotic or just ruining the mood...

Ruining the mood. You chicken out. You go home with two books and no prospects.

You are weak.
You buy a chess set and play two games against yourself. You get schooled.

Happy Wednesday.

Crazy like me: The Later Years

For those of you that responded to my 'crazy like me' post, thank you very much. I've never thought of myself as one easily swayed by the crowd, and I did not think my blog post was revealing as much, but maybe it did.

Some of your responses were about being strong and holding true to myself, something I have never considered a problem. In retrospect, however, I have been held in the mercy of those around me before. An ex boyfriend of mine is the one that took me to get my septum pierced (paid for it, too). When I am around Kristina the pitch of my voice goes up a solid octave. Even living with Nikki has made small differences. High heels, for one.

I've officially retained an apartment in Carriage Cove. I'll have my own room but share a bathroom with another girl. They are 22, 24, and 29 I believe. I think living with people I don't know will be best. And having my own space is DEFINITELY a wise choice. Deciding on a place to live has gotten me all excited about the next couple of months, which I really need.

Suddenly not having a license or a boyfriend means I'm not in the best of moods as of late.

Its ok, though. Sam (my boss who I hate) bought me a bike lock yesterday! A very nice gesture from a very annoying man.

Crazy like me

Since I am going back to school in January, I have been thinking about what I will be doing with my life. What will I be studying? Where will I be living? Will I be friends with all the same people? Do I want to repeat anything I did two years ago or just start fresh?

Last time I was at BYU I had a rolicking good time. I had an awful time. I've never felt more in control/focused/intelligent. I've never been so lost/insane/incoherent. It would be easy to ignore the bad stuff but since they are the reasons I withdrew from school, that would be a huge mistake.

I lived with a couple of girls who were like me. We listened to music just written for us. We cut each others hair. We terrified everyone. We layered ourselves in lace and ribbons and ripped fabrics and let flitted around campus like butterflies of death. We each had severe issues, ranging from panic disorders to manic depression, but huge strengths as well, like artistic ability and humor. We found comfort in being with equals.

The comfort is still there; however, I have been wondering how much of a help it really was. Did I get crazier because of my crazy friends? It definitely didn't start with them, since my first group of friends were the nicest group of Molly Mormons you ever did see.

The same group that later alienated me and treated me like a leper when things started getting harder, and when I needed them most.

Thats when I found the girls who were crazy like me. Sweet relief. We were more normal than anyone else at that school. We were the Sylvia Plaths, Emily Dickinsons, Marilyn Monroes, Judy Garlands. Feared, loved, amazing, not appreciated. Sisters of the brain. Strangers.

I miss it, but I fear it. Would anything be better than the stasis? The stasis that has been my life the past year or so? No goals, no moving forward, no inspiration or motivation. These past months have shaped me into being the person I am going to be much more than those few months at BYU, and I am not sure that is for the best.

thoughts thoughts. give me your thoughts. Even if you are a stranger, I want to know.

Quote of the day

This says alot about me, and how other people view me.


A concern voiced earlier by the boy I am dating:

"I wonder when the day is going to come when you really weird me out, and with what"




Honestly, I have been wondering the same thing.

Tim Curry

As I was speaking to a fleshbearded man in my life, I mentioned Tim Curry and was met with nothing. He didn't even recognize the name. Really? REALLY? YOU- YOU READING THIS RIGHT NOW, do you know who tim curry is?

HALT.

Let me just stop you right there. Since I know almost everyone who reads this blog is Mormon, I won't get too upset about none of you knowing his amazing portrayal of Dr. Frank-n-Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show, or as the terrifying daughter in that one Tales of the Crypt episode about the salesman (which is the first time I saw his buggy eyes and evil smile).

However; since most of you are Mormon I WILL NOT stand for your ignorance of his many mormon-friend roles.

-the hotel manager in Home Alone 2
-Rooster in the musical Annie
-Long John Silver in Muppet Treasure Island
-the butler in Clue
-the evil Cardinal in Three Musketeers


COME ON! Those are movies I know we have all seen. Now that I think of it, Tim Curry was a huge part of my childhood. I don't know if I can ever be with a man who can't appreciate everything he has done in shaping me as a person.

Admit it. You love him.

hey thanks guys

I don't know if Jordan or Craig are even aware that I blog, but I feel like I should have a little online high five for them.

HEY CRAIG
Thanks for letting me use your bike to get to work. Thanks for helping me get new tires that one time. Thanks for buying me dinner. Thanks for not making fun of me too much for the alien encounter I had, even though you think its total bull.


HEY JORDAN
thanks for driving me to the airport. Twice. Thanks for listening to my random thoughts. Thanks for not calling me psycho even when I really deserve it. Thanks for sweeping. Thanks for the Thai food.

here is an online high five for my new boss, who I dislike.

HEY SAM
Thanks for your korean rap music that you play in the back room. Thanks for sometimes shaking things up with a Hillary Duff single. Thanks for patting my head whenever you don't understand something sarcastic I say, it really helps me like you more. Thanks for throwing your hands up and yelling, five or six times a day, for reasons I have yet to discover. Thanks for being in the store 50 hours a week but not being helpful at all.

THE END.

Fun Story, guys.

Real fun, extra fun.

So this morning I wake up and I see my clock says 6:24. Did I push snooze? Crap, I am opening the store today! I need to be there in six minutes!


I flee the house. It is cold and dark outside, as usual. I climb into my car, don't buckle my seatbelt, and try not to think about the fact that my license is suspended (different fun story for a different fun time).

How irresponsible do I sound right now, by the way? Lock away your impressionable young men. Brooke Schroeder is in town and she is breaking all sorts of state laws.

On the way I get pulled over, and I realize that not putting on eyeliner or perfume (or a seatbelt) really killed my chances of my car NOT getting impounded right now.

Two cops pop out, and I haven't seen either of them before. They must be new, since I've been pulled over a grand total of 6 times while living in Lincoln, and since Jamba Juice is the new donut shop. Cops Galore.

Heres another fun realization: IT WAS TWO THIRTY IN THE MORNING, NOT SIX THIRTY.

I woke up FOUR HOURS EARLY FOR WORK.
The policemen believed me that I had no idea what time it was, and that I was a sweet little girl who just wanted to make smoothies and sunshine and rainbows and sing John Denver music. They didn't mention my lack of insurance or lack of a seatbelt, but they verbally abused me for the whole suspended license thing, which I totally deserved.

After returning to work at the correct time (driven by a friend,) I spent the day trying not to kill my boss. I can't really explain how much I dislike him, but I can say that he is one of those people who thinks its hilarious to put out their finger like they are going to poke you but they never actually touch you they just get really close. Yeah. That happened all day today.

I'm now sitting at home trying to get through to a DMV in San Diego, and planning my finances around several fix it tickets.

So that was my day. How about yours? Bad? Really? You sure? Didn't think so.

This kid i know

Pictures from my weekend, from the freakin' sweet camera Mom got me.
Warning: these pictures are adorable. Don't look at them if you are alone and bitter.

Bizarre Politics

As of late I've become a fan of entertaining/strange political events/stories/people. This election has been a letdown for me in that sense, and in the sense that I still don't know who to vote for. Its hard for me to commit to one candidate when I dislike them both, for reasons I have no desire to go into. The VPs are the same. Biden is a little attack dog, and I hate him. Palin is adorable, but just because I would go to the mall with her doesn't mean I would vote for her.

Onward.

Today, the topic for enlightenment will be The Black Sheep of a Political Family.

Must I really mention Tony and Hugh Rodham? Their $118 million dollar schemes with russian mobsters really didn't help out poor ol' Hillary. We'll blame them for her failed race to the White House. They are why she didn't win. Sure.

Maybe it is an American tradition to have embarassing brothers. Back in the day Jimmy Carter's brother, Billy, pulled down his fly and urinated on the tarmac while waiting for a plane full of foreign dignitaries and reporters. He proudly referred to himself as a "real southern boy...red neck, white socks, and Blue Ribbon Beer". (Thats a direct quote)

Lyndon Johnson had the same problem, but didn't wait around for a disaster to ruin things before he took office. The secret service kept his brother under White House Arrest in the months leading up to his election.(He had a bad habit of accepting too many drinks from incognito reporters in local bars, who would then ply him for embarassing stories, dirty secrets, shameful anecdotes, what have you.)

Last but definitely not least, Uday Hussein definitely wins Problem Child Of The Century award. Uday murdered his daddy's (Saddam Hussein) personal assistant and old friend, Kamal Hana Gegeo, at a state party. The murder weapon was an electric carving knife.

The Rodham family looks pretty good now, huh?

Hooray for learning! GO WATCH THE NEWS.

from natalie

McDonalds Pick Up Artist

Yesterday I took the girls to McDonalds to play around since I was tired and they were hyper. I wore my fake engagement ring, which Nikki thought was used so people didn't think I had kids out of wedlock. Its actually so I don't get hit on.

Turns out, it totally doesn't work.

As the children were running amuck, I notice this burnt out guy staring at me. Raspy voice, cigarette, tattoos, unimpressive facial hair, would argue until the end of time how Guns n Roses was the best band ever and yes, Axl is totally getting his life back together thank you very much (Even though his big comeback flopped. Anyone surprised? Didn't think so). The whole package, is what I'm saying.

I walked past him to stop Ryah from running into a pit of venomous snakes,(I don't know how, but the girl is drawn to dangerous situations. She only eats glass and is sexually attracted to fire) and he stopped me, telling me I looked EXACTLY like that actress, man, you know the one, man. C'mon Mila something?

I knew he was talking about Mila Jovovich, who I actually have no idea who that is but I have been told that before.

Then Raspyvoice turns to his son (mid 20s. looks like he drinks alot of Blue Ribbon), who in turn follows me out to the parking lot as I am toting stinky and demon out to the car.

He then proceeds to ask if I want to "go downtown and get a drink"

"sure," I said, "I'll bring my kids"

"uh, or we could go to the zoo?"

At this point I am at my car, since I never stopped walking, and Taylen turns and shouts:

"yeah, we can go to the zoo and poop on your head!"

We both laugh SO HARD even Ryah joins in, who has begun sporting the most ridiculous laugh you have ever heard. So fun.

Cute girls.


and I just googled Mila Jovovich, and I think that guy was smoking crack.

skype

so, i skype now. but not really, because i can't figure out how to get my mic to work. at first i couldn't get ANY of it to work, but then I was a baby genius and figured out the camera.

any tips on getting the sound? that'd be awesome. thanks.


We have a new manager at my store, out of freakin' nowhere. I didn't know our manager was leaving until YESTERDAY, and that was his last day! Its kind of sad because I had a good relationship with him, so I could take days off and never work sundays and not get any flack for it. Hopefully the new manager will be the same.


TO ALL MY UTAH FRIENDS:

I am flying into Salt Lake on October 9th, and I will be there till the morning of the 13th. I am expecting alot of love from all of you out there.

Now I will go pass out, since I got four hours of sleep last night, opened the store this morning, and have been hanging out with the kids all day. woo!

<3brooooooookebaby.

mondays, you suck.

So, I went back to work today. I really enjoy my job, but for the past couple weeks a few of the girls I work with have been making things really hard for me. It feels like I am back in high school sometimes; plus, it really doesn't help when they take my respectful decline of their invite to a bud-smokin' party as a snub.

I think I have been too nice and easygoing at that job, and I'm really going to have to use my authority. Thats why I have it. To be used.

Afterwards I went and picked up the girls with a nice little jamba juice treat. they were being freakin' rough today. Taylen is running around saying sassy things that she only could have picked up on if she is hanging out at a biker bar during the day. Ryah was SCREAMING and following me around when I was throwing dinner together.

I called Logan to bring me back to reality, but he didn't pick up so I left him a message that probably didn't make sense.

something about "putting the kibash down on these little girls"

Now Taylen is watching Ariel: The Beginning for the 6th time since I gave it to her (i gave it to her yesterday afternoon). I think its better than the original since no one is calling anyone else a "little tramp". Hopefully she loses some of the disney slang.

Its definitely worse in other aspects, however. Example: Ariels mom gets smooshed by a pirate ship in the beginning. Its all very slow-motion, dramatic, shaky animation. We watched it yesterday with like fifteen other little kids from the ward, and one of them kept going "Ariels mom dies here. This is where she dies. Get ready for her to die".

I would have set my uber-threatening kibash down then if I didn't recall certain films from my childhood that, in retrospect, are borderline satanic. (HELLOOO CAREBEARS. The little camper GETS POSSESSED. I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP)

oh yeah, cherry to my crapmonday sundae, my ipod/radio/connector thing BROKE during my trip to san diego, and it would cost 80 bucks to replace. rough.

here is a picture to brighten this post right on up:

hometownlovehaircut

I don't know about you, but my weekend was SO GOOD. My mom and I roamed all around San Diego on Thursday, hitting up my favorite clothing/book/record stores. I got a digital camera (my last one was stolen) so now I can afford to put pictures up! They aren't as interesting as the polaroids, but I still try to get some creative ones in there.

Oh yeah, and Calee cut my hair! My transformation into a 1920's vaudeville star has officially begun.

me and calee, pre-haircut, pro-special olypmics.

the new cut!

jakie baby and mehmet (the drum)

the girls


the parents


so fun! thanks family

san diego, ho!

I am back in my hometown of Escondido, CA, which is a suburb a bit north of San Diego. I walked into my old room, and couldn't breathe for a good thirty seconds. There was lots of pink hoo ha and mirrors and matchy matchy picture frames and a distinctly blonde, righteous smell.

Kristina had been there.

The only things in that room from the Brooke side of style were two glorious stylish gems:

-an old wooden desk set up with a mismatched vanity mirror behind it
-a cedar chair with a woven back that I found on the street in San Elijo

I forgot I attained those this year. Once I know I am going to live somewhere for more than six months I will totally drive that crap out.

What can I say. I like decorating like I live in a log cabin in the 70s.

OH SAN DIEGGOOOOOOO
-Jake picked me up from the airport. We are still hilarious.
-Saw Alanna, Yvonne, Jess, Ed (who has a ponytail now. congrats, ed), and many others.

Man. I missed it, but I am stoked I don't live here. If I did, I would so be addicted to meth right now. I don't know how I know that, I just do. Getting stuck in your old group of high school friends is never a good idea, especially when you all have a secret longing to quit your jobs and live on the beach, only to play a huge drum by a bonfire every night and nothing else.

If that sounds like a good way to spend a weekend, head on down to Black's Beach on the full moon (warning: nude beach)

If that sounds like a good way to spend your life, head on down to Black's Beach on a full moon AND NEVER LEAVE.

That is an actual option.

Good News Ladies!

Turns out that old adage, "showering during your period is bad," is poppycock!
Tell Betsy and Darla!



Thanks Disney. Its a huge relief knowing that I don't have to sacrifice my personal hygiene, and that I can shower at a not freezing/scalding temperature.

Leaping lizards, life sure is swell.

happy birthday to me

Yes, it is true. I am no longer a teenager, meaning I am getting older and losing alot of things that I have come to enjoy.

Here are some things I do not look forward to losing:
-the exciting possibility of a shotgun wedding (once you're out of the teens its just called a wedding)
-Hair
-the basis of my appeal for older men (they just love teenagers. they really do)
-bone density
-youthful folly (including but no limited to- constant skipping, braiding everything, and being fed cotton candy by a guy wearing a letterman's jacket)
-my fashion credibility. I'm out of high school and out of the loop. hellooo denim on denim and bedazzled leather hats.

On the flipside, here are some things I can't WAIT to lose.
-my unstoppable love of poor musicians, who swear that this show next month is definitely their big break, and please can't you drive me and the guys to the venue? hey thanks babe. make me a sandwhich.
-terrible skin, even though I've never had a skin problem, its just nice that it is no longer a threat to me.
-my heart. I want to give it to someone and have them do a happy dance with it and then put it gently back and then we'll hold hands.

now you know.
spread the word.

how embarassing.

I don't know if anyone has noticed this yet, but I like to mock myself. I'm an easy target, and I don't get offended and not talk to me anymore so it really is the best option when it comes to humor.

I was recently asked, "do you ever get embarassed?" The person doing the asking was being serious, and it surprised me. Yes, I'm human, I get embarassed, but then again....

I come from a family of story tellers. Confident, sassy story tellers at that. If you heard Nikki, Calee, or Kristina tell a story then you know exactly how I tell my stories: lots of hand gestures, and occasional squeal or flare of the nostril, and an open-mouthed belly laugh to top it all off. Check it out sometime, its not a bad way to spend thirty minutes.

Anyways, the point is, I think my inherited story-telling abilities mixed with my instinct to poke fun at myself when I do something ridiculous transforms my perception of embarassment.

Why would I be embarassed that I get nosebleeds all the time, or that I don't know how a jack works, or that I have a crush on a boy and I totally admitted it online? To me, its a great story, its a good way to connect with someone, and it makes me laugh.

Some would say I have no pride, I like to see it as I have no shame.


p.s. my 20th birthday is on Sunday! I'm going to be back in san diego the 18th-21st, and you know what they say about san diego on the weekend of the 18th.

(if you don't know, its that all boys named logan must be present at that time.)

my encounter

so i took nikkis car to blockbuster so I could return a movie for her; actually, i took nikkis car three blocks down the road before running into something (no idea what it was) and hearing the front right tire make a huge squealing noise.

First, I turned on the hazard lights (I knew exactly where they were because I paid attention in drivers ed, ya'll), then I jumped out of the car and a good ten feet away. In my mind, if anything goes wrong with a car it WILL EXPLODE. I think that assumption comes from American television and from seeing a VW bug spontaneously combust in front of my high school when I was a freshman.

After a few moments without any exploding, I got back in and moved forward a little. More huge squealing. I then proceeded to do what I do anytime is wrong with a car: call the boy I have a crush on.

In this case that boy is in Idaho (so inconvenient) so all he could do was point out that I couldn't get the spare out of the trunk because it is screwed in there.

Finally, I called Nikki and told her about the crazy happs' (yo), and she walked down the street. Luckily I have this amazing talent where people in my family very rarely get mad at me when I do something stupid, instead they come in with the preconceived notion that I am hilarious and they just laugh. So Nikki is laughing, I get as far as getting all those screws off the leaky tire but then we have to call our neighbor to help with the rest because Lord knows I do not know what a jack does and the instructions were written in Japanese (thanks alot Mitsubishi. Way to think ahead).

As our glistening, shirtless, Australian neighbor was changing the tire, Nikki and I went on hunt for the hubcaps (i think thats what they are called? the things that cover the tires screw parts? hahaha I sound so special). We only found one of them.....

Upon realizing my hands were covered in blue gunk (totally serious) and finding no huge object in the middle of the road that would have caused scrapes on the side of the tires, we concluded I had some sort of other-worldly experience here.

The solid metal creature laid in the road as a sign of friendship, I ran him over, he grabbed one of the hubcaps (thinking it was a transport device) and fled the scene.

what other explanation is there?


(just for the record, 80% of this story is true. thats way more than usual, and yes, one of those truths is that we have a hot australian neighbor)

insecurity timeline

birth-17: low self esteem. three hot older sisters. rough.

17-19: start working out. feeling better about myself. TOO confident. on top of the freaking world.
check the septum (nose) ring and rat tail.


present: sane. normal. for the first time since my very first kiss I feel nervous and usnure of myself. strange, strange, strange.

'enry 'iggins.

if you've noticed the lack of posts and/or random post times, have no fear. I've been a bit distracted lately, but I'll be back in full swing next week.

my attractive distraction is leaving on sunday to go back to BYUI, taking his beardless, witty self with him.

after I spend a day pining, there will be more blogging hilarity and youthful jubilance.

just you wait.

I bruise easy, too.

Besides my freckles and incontinence, I'd say my nosebleeds are a huge part of my physical charm.

The first time I really noticed the unusual frequency of my nosebleeds was the week I graduated high school. I'd spontaneously bleed from the nose every day, twice a day, for one week, including as we were walking onto the field in our robes.

Just this month I've had three nosebleeds. 1)at charlotte russe. good thing we have headsets so I explain to my manager why I sprinted to the back. 2)randomly during the day at home. 3)as i was SLEEPING. I woke up because I couldn't breathe and thought i was dying

Other nosebleed highlights:
-In the shower. took me the whole shower to notice. i kinda space out in the shower.
-On the way to a dance. Good thing the directions were written on a napkin. Convenient, until we got lost due to our directions being useless (and soggy).
-on the way to gradnight (nosebleed #2 the day of graduation) where my friend chris had to hold my nose while I tried to find a tissue. It really brought us closer.

So, my friends, if you were undecided about setting me up with your single friends/relatives, let this post officially tip the scale.

I'm available, and I most likely have a brain tumor.

;)

demon&stinky

i have no idea where these girls get their ridiculously long limbs from.

the tease

Yes, I do find it entertaining to flirt shamelessly with boys who aren't quite sure how to respond.

For example, a kid I work with is cute, but young and not my type (read: he has terrible taste in music. a mushroomhead t-shirt? gross). Upon further inspection, I see he is feelin on the Brookelove, and choose to make the situation fun.

Waiting until its just the two of us in the store, I turn to him and ask casually "hey, since we're alone, do you want to make out in the back?"


ooohh maaaan I so wish I had a picture of his face! Shock, amazement, joy, all replaced with a good-natured laugh when I couldn't keep my face serious any longer.

What a good sport. Plus, a great kisser.

my weekend

san francisco. jessica. me.







this last one wasn't scratched or drawn on at all. that is just polaroid ink that has been moved around within the film! i like it.

katy perry

i'm ashamed of my top artist this week.

in my defense, i left my itunes running with the word "boy" typed in the search. pet shop boys, boys noize, and album titles with "boy" in it played over and over while i was gone for a couple of hours.


rough.

Outside Lands Festival

So I went to the last day of the Outside Lands Festival in San Francisco this weekend and it was pretty freakin' legit.

Bon Iver was there. I cried. you'll understand when you hear this song.



Andrew Bird was pretty good, I definitely left more of a fan.

Wilco started off slow but really impressed me at the end.

Stars was decent. Nothing special.

Broken Social Scene was everything I hoped for and more.

I got sunburned! I'll put up polaroids later. A buncha kids from my high school came to town and we wandered the city together. Shout out to jessica for still being amazing. High five for chris being more amazing than I remembered.

it happens

We had a customer come in the other morning and get a smoothie.

"wheres my zuchinni loaf?" she asked quietly. Ruby, the girl who was on register, said "oh, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you ask for one."

"Don't worry I'll just take this up with Brandon" (the manager). Needless to say the lady was in a baaad mood. Turns out it was a jamba juice employees mother, and she called in a half an hour later to complain and try to get Ruby fired.

I went back to talk to my manager, and explained the woman was having a bad day and that I didn't even hear her order a zuchinni loaf (and its definitely not worth the time and energy of trying to get a 17 year old girl fired from her first job. she is working at 6 am! Give her a break! You'd think having a kid who worked here would make her more sympathetic. Whatever- her problem)

I went back there and explained this to Brandon. He cut me off before I was done and said "oh don't worry it was just so-n-so's mom". I asked if she got sassy with the employees often and he said "she's bipolar," his eyes wide and fingers outstretched, as if for dramatic effect.

"uhh...oh. so she doesn't take her meds?"
"no she is like really bipolar"
"right"

Naturally, I was automatically on the other side of the fence. What if Ruby really had been screwing around and totally forgot her order, making her late for work? Did she deserve to have her complaints ignored cuz shes bipolar, and then intimate details of her life exposed? (my boss had also included that her children didn't even live with her, and a few other very sad details.)

I felt really sympathetic when I heard my boss talk about her like she was THIS close to shoving a pencil in her own eye. I don't think I've ever been a MEAN person, and I know I've never wanted to get anyone fired, so I can't really relate to that. In my case I was so full of energy and ideas I wouldn't have even remembered going to Jamba Juice the second I got in my car; however, I do remember days when I couldn't even walk straight because I was thinking about a sock I left under my desk. I guess you never know, it is manic depression. The worst of both worlds.

A few of my coworkers know I'm bipolar. It came out in the natural flow of a conversation (I don't recall quite how but it did) and now they know. If they mention it to the bossman, is he going to feel like an idiot for the way he described a bipolar lady or is he going to give me less and less hours, to avoid an eyeball/pencil incident?

the world may never know...

soooo much awake time. not so much asleep time.

this morning: jamba juice 6 am to 2 pm

now I'm home till I get demon/stinky from day care! huzzah!

I was supposed to go to a family reunion this weekend, but I bailed to go to a three day festival with Jessica, who is comin up from San Diego (Its called the Oustide Lands Festival, for you music lovers out there). Now it turns out JESSICA bailed, too! Which I guess is ok cuz charlotte russe scheduled me for work this weekend and NO ONE will cover for me.

which is weak status. I'm about to quit that place, but I keep telling myself not to, that an extra shift every once in a while at a different job will really help out my financial status. Its true. I just need to keep my eyes on the prize.

The prize being school in January. BYU, here I come!

I'm still really not sure what to expect when I head back up to school. I need to start thinking about my classes and schedule and prepare myself for all the stress. Part of me is worried I'll have some sort of psychotic break, the other part of me just isn't thinking about it yet.

Am I going to see people I knew freshman year? Do I even want to see them? (answer: no. my best friends in the dorms completely abandoned/isolated me, and worse, when they found out I was bipolar. yeah, I'm still a little bitter about it)

How many credits should I take? I know I'll be working, too, I just don't know if I should ease into it or go all out?

Can I even afford this right now? its basically me and then any scholarships I have. I don't know anything about student loans.

Should I date? no. no i won't be dating. dating is hardly even an option for me right now. Plus I have nikki and a couple of really awesome missionaries that I'm writing to for my social stimulation.

Can I even rip myself away from this little family? this is the question that has bothered me the most. Not only am I going to miss them all ALOT, but I'm going to stay awake and worry. The dishes aren't EVER going to get done, Nikki will probably stop showering, aksldjfowiejf i can't even think about it. Thinking about January makes me want to call off my education so I can stick around and make sure no one is going crazy here in Lincoln ("no one" = nikki)

Rough. Blogging is a nice release. I recommend it. I also recommend the Berry topper from Jamba Juice. hmmmmm boy.

Lets Think Positive

So I get kind of down of Sacramento sometimes, Lincoln specifically. Do you live here? Can you blame me? I mentioned this out loud at my manager certification class on Saturday, and many people rose to defend their beloved home town.

"What are you talking about? The fair is going on downtown for WEEKS!"

Really? The fair? You mean there will be livestock and food that isn't traditionally fried being fried (snickers, twinkies, danish, what a riot!) Seriously?

As much as I'd love to ride a suspicious ferris wheel being run by a drunk guy named Thumbless Joe and somehow get vomit on my shoes and hay in my hair, I think I'll pass.


Now that all the negativity is out, here are some things I really love about this town.

1)The guys. True, I've had NO romantic luck since I've been here, but just because I'm not interested doesn't mean I don't shamelessly hit on every awkward looking boy in my ward. Reducing a returned missionary to a wordless, breathless, confused ten year old with flaming cheeks is a sure fire way to make the most boring meeting interesting. Its true, I break hearts. Tell your friends. (I know technically I could do this anywhere, but since I'm bored alot and am moving soon, I do it here a bit more than usual)

2) Safeway, or specifically, the fact that every person who works at safeway thinks I am an unwed mother of two. Since I go grocery shopping for Nikki and the girls and don't wear a ring, they assume. At first I let them assume and nothing else, but then I started bringing it up and throwing random details in there. I'm 21, the dad is not in the picture anymore, and my youngest is named Louise. Talk about heart breaking, and fun!

3)My Room. First, its freakin' huge compared to the room at had in the townhouse in San Elijo. Second, the furniture kicks butt (rich wood top, painted off-white base, with vintage dents and scratches). Third, the closet. I've decided I am going to need a walk-in for the rest of my life. Not only because I have alot of clothes/costumes, but because I've always seemed to turned to the closet in a time of need. When I need to cry or hide, its right there. (you'd be surprised how often I hide and cry. Taylen is merciless if I upset her. You should see the bruises)

4)My brain. I've finally felt (for the most part) balanced and normal. I feel like I'm away from people who were dragging me down into the weakest form of myself, and I'm definitely stronger in my testimony. I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is the true gospel on this earth, but life is so freaking hard. I don't think I would've really found out until I had my own family, but since I've been living here its been obvious. No one gets it easy in this life, even the righteous have trials- its just how you deal with them. The best chance you have is focusing your life on the lord and marrying someone who does the same. My daily ritual of writing in my journal, reading my scriptures, and praying has been the reason I have been sleeping so well and feeling in control of my life. Control is VERY important to me, as it it with most people who have bipolar disorder.

5)My sister Nikki. Its about time I have a friend, a really great friend. Someone who believes what I believe and supports me in everything. I really can't remember the last time I had an ally I can open up to and be totally honest with. She can do the same with me. We support each other, cry with eachother, and (for the most part) correct one another when we've done something silly or hurtful. I don't think I really understand how socially isolated I was until I got here. Sure, I had a boyfriend who was also my best friend, but without being mormon there is only so much about me he could understand. Plus, nikki is getting divorced (haven't you heard?) and I'm one sandwich short of a picnic. We've had dark moments that we can't even desribe to each other, but we both can laugh about it (some days). That helps.

6) Taylen and Ryah (demon and stinky). Although they are growing up SO FAST, they are way fun! Plus, I've changed diapers and cleaned up vomit and played princesses. I am guaranteed "cool favorite aunt" position for the rest of eternity. Sorry Kristina and Calee, you two no longer qualify.

7)My hair. I know that its silly to have that be a favorite thing about a place, but I really think if I had been living somewhere that I was really social I would keep cutting it. Since I've been bummin' it and just working and going to church, I've let it grow. Its almost out of its ugly mullet stage! Huzzah!

8) charlotte russe discount. 'nuff said.

9)hot nights. something about it being 80 degrees at nine o'clock at night makes me all goose-bumpy with magical feelings. It makes me want to fall in love and dance around a fire.

10)the memmoorriessss. yes, I'll remember ALOT about living here. All the books I've read, the jobs I've had, the american idol auditions, the crying, the therapy, the girls, the really getting to know Nikki as an adult, the drama with the divorce, how it feels to be around little kids, realizing that I'm still young, learning to appreciate my lack of financial/personal committments, all of those. alot of learning, alot of memories.

Ok

I'm done. Hey, I ended on ten! I didn't even do that on purpose.

the beholder

finding beautiful artwork like this makes me miss my painting/photography days

if you have any polaroid film/watercolors/charcoal/spraypaint/ ANY art supplies, and want to give them to me, i wouldn't object.

contact me- i need an outlet.

heres a brooke schroeder original. staples ballpoint pen. looks best from far away.

well played, jamba juice. bye mom!

the jamba juice playlist has impressed me ALOT this month. Tegan and Sara, Yael Naim, Beck, MIA, Santogold, The Ting Tings, Calvin Harris, Cake, The PussyCatDollS(who i secretly love)?!?! Big names, for a little store. Very well done.

For those of you who thought I was going home the week after my b.day to hang out with some old friends, guess again. I went to go buy the airline tickets, found the flight, put in my info, purchased it, and then realized that my bank account was completely emptied by the transaction.

Turns out my bishop deposited my tithing slips for the past two weeks YESTERDAY, which to most people wouldn't matter but to me was a serious punch in the gut, financially speaking.

Oh, and my mom is leaving tomorrow, which is sad. I liked having her visit- I've totally slacked on the dishes and she bought me a tank of gas. Its like christmas came early!

Plus, she is ridiculously silly. I don't know if you know my mom or not, but even if you do you probably wouldn't guess what a freakin' goof the lady is. Once when I was around 13 we were all sitting down to a family meal, and she threw a cup of water at me from across the table. FOR NO REASON. Imagine your mother doing that. The woman just spent an hour cooking us food, and then she got everything all wet, just because she felt like it. If thats not comedy gold, I don't know what is.

guess which one my mom is:


WRONG. shes the black guy.










jk. there is no black guy.