For nonjudgers only.

I like free food. A lot. To the point where I'm seriously contemplating having Jacob and I attend my current stake's institute after we're married just for the free dinner they serve afterward. (I have not yet mentioned this to him. But I'm sure if I flash my winningest (read: cheesiest) smile at him, he'll agree to it. Especially if I end up serving cereal for dinner three nights a week.)

But I think my love of free food has escalated to an unhealthy level. Allow me to explain:

Today I got my grubby little hands on a free brownie outside of the Wilkinson Center. I walked inside the Wilk because I had to mail something off, and I was trying to juggle the brownie, my sandwich, and a flier all at the same time.

In case you weren't aware, I'm not really one for jugglin'.

Before I knew it, the brownie tumbled out of my hands onto the floor. I hurriedly scooped up the brownie, peeled the frosting off the tile (it had fallen off the brownie in the snafus), and quickened my pace to escape the scene of the crime.

And then when I had walked about ten feet away, I shoveled the whole mass of chocolate into my mouth. I feel no shame. (C'mon, tell me you didn't see that coming.)

And that's why I shouldn't be allowed to have children.

"I'm making a hexagon!" -- Heather

Me: I'd like to announce that this is the second night in a row I'm not eating cereal for dinner.

Roommates: [quite literally burst into cheers and applause]

Me: Last night I made soup!

Roommate: What are you eating now?

Me: A burrito.

Roommate: You're going to be the best wife ever.

Slow news day.

Provo, UT –
Jennifer Sudweeks has made some egregious errors of judgment in the past, but she’s trying to clean up her act.

Sudweeks, a 20-year-old student at Brigham Young University, has been hording Tupperware containers of refried beans in her apartment’s refrigerator. But just this last week, she whittled the number of containers from four to one.

“I, erm, may or may not have a tendency to open a new can of refried beans before checking to see if I have some already stashed away,” Sudweeks said.

Sudweeks usually eats dinner with her older sister Heather, whom she lives with. However, as Heather is an accountant and this is the peak of tax season, she works late hours and Sudweeks is left to fend for herself. And this means she eats burritos two or three times a week.

“Yes, I have the most monotonous diet of anyone I know,” Sudweeks said. “I can’t even begin to count how many burritos I’ve consumed since the beginning of tax season.”

However, one of Sudweeks’ former roommates said that the problem of storing refried beans in the refrigerator has been long lasting.

“She [Sudweeks] would put her leftover beans in the refrigerator and then completely forget about them,” Jessica Mitchell said. “And then when I had to clean out the refrigerator, they would smell nasty foul.”

Sudweeks disagreed with Mitchell’s assessment of the beans’ stench, claiming instead that the odor was “potent.”

Cari Dahl, another of Sudweeks’ roommates, tries to be open-minded about the situation, but sometimes she struggles.

“I definitely had my judging eyes on when Jennifer suggested she use carbon dating to determine how old the latest container of beans was,” Dahl said. “And the unsettling thing is, she ate them anyway.”

Sudweeks justified her actions by saying that refried beans almost never go bad.

“The smell might kick you in the face, but they still taste just as savory in a burrito,” Sudweeks said. “As long as they aren’t petrified, you’re good to go.”

"Clear pee is happy pee."

For dinner today I made some delicious (read: straight from a can) tomato soup. I was dipping my spoon into my bowl at the same time I was trying to read for a class, and I was having a hard time concentrating on the ol' textbook. There had to be a better way to study and eat at the same time.

So I whipped out a straw and proceeded to drink my soup through that instead.

It was remarkably efficient.

"Let's just say that lately there's been more bounce in California."

Cari: "Now I just need motivation to get off the couch."
Jennifer: "Your pants are on fire!"

It didn't work. Sigh.

"Where on earth did you get those fabulous sounding socks? And why aren't I at that store already?"

Before you read, you must know three things:
1. I got this idea from one of my favorite columnists, Eric Snider. You can check out the inspiration for this piece here.
2. This is another journal entry for my writing class. My goal here is to amuse, not to make people pity me. Keep that in mind.
3. The quote in the subject line should be attributed to Natalia, but it was too long for me to squeeze in her name.

The Book of Jennifer
Chapter 7

1. And it came to pass in the first year of the reign of Obama, that I, Jennifer, decided that I needed to find a man. For behold, I, being twenty years of age, had never pressed lips to those of a man; neither had I clasped hands with a man.
2. And verily, this did get me down.
3. But behold, men of great stature and handsome looks did intimidate me; yea, they did even cause me to quiver with much fear and trembling. And it came to pass that I did not speak to such men, for the fear did cause me much grief.
4. Now, verily, verily, my lack of dating life did cause some of my friends to scratch their heads in astonishment, for they said that I helped make a room ring with laughter and merriment and that I was fair and pleasant to look at.
5. And it came to pass that I did set forth in my quest to find a man, insomuch that I did feebly attempt to make small talk to the brethren in my ward, that I might catch their attention.
6. Yea, I did need a lot of practice.
7. Yea, I did need so much practice that I felt my efforts were in vain, and I stopped talking to the brethren.
8. Now lo, this did make my quest exceedingly more difficult, for conversation with a man is essential to forming a relationship. Behold, I did not know this from experience, but my observation of couples made it clear that this is so.
9. And it came to pass that I, Jennifer, decided that I would let my friends arrange social events with men for me. For behold, I was too much of a pansy to find a man on my own.

"Girl, you can have a Coke."

Tonight I tried to take multi-tasking to a whole new level: plucking my eyebrows while brushing my teeth.

It was tricky, but I had moderate (read: mild) success!

You all should try it sometime. It's rather . . . exhilarating.

"Eat up, little one. You need your strength." -- Jessica

Jennifer: "I don't know why I'm so hungry all of the time."
Cari: "Maybe you're going through a growth spurt."
Jennifer: "Where? Out? "
Cari: "Maybe you're getting a butt!"

"We're not really BFFs, you know? We're just Fs."

It's no secret that I somehow manage to give myself second degree burns almost every time I use the oven. I wasn't always this way, but things have gone downhill since living in an apartment.

Yesterday, Heather gave me an oven mitt as a "Happy January!" gift. And she made me find her a bag and tissue paper to wrap it in before she gave it to me. But I didn't have any tissue paper, so I gave her some stylish floral napkins instead.

It was a good time.