Totes adorbs.

I die. Every time.

Why I love Tom Hiddleston and there's nothing more to the story

Saturday was one of those emotionally self-indulgent days wherein I just love being married. Maybe not even married per se, but just exulting in spending time with someone whose companionship makes me love life just that much more. It began with Michael kissing me goodbye as he left for work. Whaaaa?? On a Saturday? I know. Super lame. But don't feel too poorly for him, because he mostly just catches up on phone calls to his family, browses Hulu plus, and crushes on Mitt Romney via Yahoo news articles.

Erstwhile, in South Pasadena, I drifted in and out of consciousness, lazed around in bed, and didn't leave my bedroom until 17 minutes before my swim lesson at the Y. At 11:30. Not embarrassing. So a girl's gotta take a few intermediate lessons to adjust her stroke in preparation for Bali Beach Body 2012! Ease up, see? (Sidenote, I love the Y. It is perfectly Asgardian. Super lowkey. Loki? This kids, is what we call an allusion.)

I went to my swim lesson, where in one simple sentence my teacher clarified the mysteries of breaststroke. You'd think after 16 years of swim experience I'd have managed to breaststroke with at least the skill of a golden retriever with only hind legs, but you'd be sorely amiss, my friend. I ended up running in to someone from the ward and stayed for the deep water aerobics class. I was egg-beatered out by the end of it.

Michael came home! We went house shopping in Yorba Linda. We creepily staked out the Nixon Library. We fell in love with a house, then got dumped by it because 19 other suitors muscled us out of the way with their cash offers. We found a rebound house! And decided that long distance would be too much of a strain on our relationships with sanity and our jobs. We spent a lot of time driving, talking, and dreaming up our ideal, hopefully near-future lives. We Taco Nazo'd on the way home in celebration of Mexicans sticking it to Napoleon III. Although this canceled out my workout of the day, it more than made up for calorie-guilt. Gijerito peppers, take me anywhere, any time; I'm yours. I took a lot of pictures of myself and kind-of Michael in the car.

We went grocery shopping. We rented Thor in preparation for seeing The Avengers. I crushed on Loki super hard. Not Tom Hiddleston, Loki. (It wasn't until after this that I pinterest'd Tom Hiddleston and swooned over his charming Britishness.) Aching, damaged, desperate-to-be-accepted-and-loved-you're-not-my-real-dad long-haired super-dreamy Loki. I have no regrets. I liked Thor so much that I convinced a sleepy Michael to see the 11:30 showing of said Avengers in Alhambra. I liked that so much that I dancewalked all the way to the car, with a no-longer-sleepy-but-surely-embarrassed Michael. I posted on Facebook that Loki was super hot and drew fans and yawntagonists alike out of the latenight facebookers woodwork.

Below is one of the byproducts of the posting. I've loved both Snape and JL in the past, so it's only fitting that they should be snowballed into my latest fictional-character-crush. Equal parts fiction and chiseled features, s'il vous plait. Add a dash of "needs to be saved."

 (Poster courtesy of Isabel. My undying gratitude and her pleasure, I'm sure.)

A successful night, n'est-ce pas?

Except that we both slept in until 10:50. Church starts at 11.

Ya been yarnbomb'd!

Get ready for it, kids. The time when finals are nearly over and I go through my pictures, writing posts via time travel, pretending that I've been keeping da blog updated this whole time, and run-on sentence. Meanwhile, check out yarn bombing. I saw it on campus today and smiled creepily to myself whilst snapping a pic iterating silently, "I believe!"

Also, a juxtaposed college-meets-California picture, just because my life has been revolving around USC for the past 8 months. Not that I'm complaining.

Totally beachin'

Michaelthy is watching the South Carolina debate and I thought, "Hey! What a great opportunity to dejunk the 700 pictures I've saved to my iPhone!" Not that I'm apathetic to the outcome of the Republican nomination, but my interest is mild at best. This way, I can sit next to Mikey, learn what fun things my new Mac will let me do, edit pictures to my heart's content, and still absorb enough about the political climate to raise talking points in general conversation. About ten minutes ago the audience booed Romney because his dad was born in Mexico. Um...remind me never to move to South Carolina. Right now people are booing Ron Paul. It's just that sometimes I feel that Ron Paul either (a) wandered away from his walk group at an Alzheimer's clinic or (b) is more likely than not to hang out at a bus stop yelling at passing cars.

ANYWAY! Here are some pictures from the beach! The Hawkleys so kindly invited us to camp with them at Camp Pendleton a few weeks ago, and it was the best camp site I have ever been to! We camped right on the sand, it was super clean, fairly quiet, and just so relaxing. The only thing better than a good bonfire is a good bonfire on the sand. It was fun to hang out with friends, wake up to waves, and lose terribly at bocce ball. Seriously, I am preeeettty bad.

 Cute little Beck!

 Waking up to the waves! Something I could definitely get used to...

 And now for the creative part of the competition:

How to raise your kid

We saw The Descendants last night, and George Clooney's character's personal philosophy about about raising his children was blogworthy (really I just want to write it down so I don't forget it!).

 

"Give your children enough [money] to do something, but not enough to do nothing."

Loved it.

The most wonderful time of the year

He never gets old

I watched the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice while I folded laundry on Saturday, and while I have a problem with Mr. Darcy stuttering "I love you," I still die every time I watch it. Le sigh.

"You must know… surely, you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I’d scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”

I usually have problems with screenplays adjusting the original text to connect with movie audiences, but I think this is fitting.
 It's just so beautiful.