Broken ends and broken toes...

So much happens in my life in a matter of days; it's a shame that I don't write more frequently. OH WELL!

To celebrate the imminent Spring season, I decided that I was sick and tired of my nasty, long, stringy hair. I was ready to kiss those split ends goodbye and get ready for a lower-maintenance and less time/shampoo consuming hairstyle. So Spencer and I called up Charlynn and we took my hair to the chopping block! Spencer's never seen my hair short (except for my school picture from kindergarten when mom cut my hair into an 80s-tastic A-line) so he was surely (but silently) apprehensive about my determination to come back with hair a foot shorter than before.

Luckily, I found this hot picture of Charlize Theron to use as a model of "what my hair's SUPPOSED to look like" and all of his fears and apprehensions were abated:

Unfortunately, reality soon set in and we both realized that I will NEVER look like Charlize Theron... but we were okay with settling on allowing me to imitate her awesome hairstyle.

Here's were I admit that my camera is not working properly - I will issue a blatant warning that the following photo is not being posted because I think it does my hair (or my ridiculous face) any justice, but rather because I promised a plethora of people pictures and I REFUSE to be known as a liar. Yes, I used a cell phone, and YES, I had to take it standing in front of a mirror. Don't even get me started on the stupid cat quilt that I made in 8th grade for a Laurel project. I know my bed's not made and I know the quilt is UGLY. Oh well, at least it's not on Facebook... so here's the aftermath:

My favorite part is when I put it back in a ponytail and it makes an inch-and-a-half long knub.

Until my camera regains consciousness, you'll have to settle with this. Trust me, it looks better in person. Plus, Spencer always makes fun of me for putting pictures on my blog of everything except us. EAT THAT!

Much to my surprise, Spencer informed me that I'm never allowed to wait an entire year before cutting my hair ever again. He prefers it shorter... imagine that! (Thanks, Charlize...)

MOVING RIGHT ALONG...

The laundry monster attacked our apartment this weekend and Spencer and I fought back with full-force. We eyed our has-to-be-shared-with-8-other-couples washer and dryer like hawks and moved in for the kill when we noticed the same batch of wet laundry didn't move for 24 hours. We moved some other poor, unfortunate peoples' clothes into an empty laundry bin and plead the "you snooze, you lose" argument as justification for our deeds. However, justice is a vengeful, cruel mistress and my karma caught up with me while I went to switch our clothes three loads later in the evening.

Our laundry room is a floor beneath us. Unfortunately, the hallway lighting burned out a couple weeks ago. As I was walking down the stairs with a big laundry basket, blinded by the darkness, I biffed it on the stairs and plummeted onto the cold, ill-carpeted floor. I thought I was going to escape this fiasco with only a bruised and skinned up knee, but as I stood up to regain my composure and sanity I noticed a much more intense pain throbbing in my left foot. You know, the kind where you can feel your pulse in your injured limb? I took it like a man for the next couple of minutes and successfully switched the laundry over, but as soon as I made it back upstairs I curled up on the couch and complained of the pain to my oh-so-patient husband who fetched me an ice pack and some ibuprofin.

I decided I'd sleep on it to see if it felt any better.

And the verdict is....

Nope.

I'm pretty sure I broke (at least one of) my toes. I'm walking like a gimp (with very cute hair, mind you...) and have a purplish/reddish hue to my now-oversized middle toe. It's very attractive. My biggest concern: how in the heck am I supposed to exercise with broken toes?! I suppose I can use the exercise bikes at the gym... but I'm afraid I might have to miss out on Zumba. Stupid toes.... I figured that there were ten in case some of them decided to stop working for a little while. Apparently not. I always have the lamest bone-breaking stories, which is sad since I have about 15+ stories to tell. Some laundry, eh?

BUT... life is still good. Spencer and I are looking at newer, BIGGER apartments to move into this Spring and I already had a call today from a girl who might want to move into OUR apartment. HUZZAH!

AND... General Conference is this weekend, which I'm stoked for. Kent and DeRue will be in town, and thanks to my cute parents the four of us have tickets for the Sunday Afternoon session!

Life is grand, 8 toes and all.