Pictures to Burn. (I'm actually keeping these)

The first sentence was mine. (It was Rosalinda and my idea. Hee hee)

We aren't really sure how Dave and I came from a snail. Oh well. (that first drawing is mine. I think it's really good).

I went to Dave's last night and we all played the game where someone writes a sentence, the next person draws a picture, and folds down the sentence; the next person writes a sentence for the picture, etc. The first one is crinkled because Dave got mad Jonathan and I wanted to keep it and threw it across the room. Ha ha...


It was very sunny and bright early this morning, so it must be spring. There was, however, inches of snow on the ground. So maybe it's winter.

It was freezing cold. So I thought it was January. I did see girls in skirts and people with no jackets on. So it could be April.

I was in grave danger of slipping on ice and falling on my butt. That is like December.

I wore my white coat though, so it must be February.

It is, in fact, March 31st (Happy Birthday Grandpa!), so it is, indeed, March.

All in all, I was very confused.

Mostly though, I just wish I was a wizard.

The Water's Edge.

I don't know who it was that came up with the idea that at the mere age of eighteen years and nine months (and three days...) one must feel the burden of one's entire life weighing on one or two decisions.


And, as usual, I'm probably making this more dramatic that necessary. Ironic, as I dislike drama.

I wish I could just know. A glimpse, perhaps, into the future. I sometimes don't like the "trial of your faith" principle. I believe it, but I don't want to screw up and then really not know what to do. How did any of the adults I know get to where they are? How did you know what you chose was what you really and truly wanted to do?

What if I've idealized it so much that soon I find I don't want to do it? Yes, I find the physiology part fascinating...but the chemistry? Not so much.

It just seems that the end is never in sight. I thought I was there when I reached college. But alas, I must apply for a new program after taking pre reqs that don't help very much. If anything, only cause frustration. It is like I'm so close, but so far away, as I will probably have to wait another semester to reapply. I cannot keep doing this. I don't want to think about how much time I have wasted come choosing a new major or something.

Whatever...I'm so sick of always going through this cycle. It is ridiculous. What I need is to take a class on something that all of a sudden I don't know how I ever thought of being anything else. Sad, but that hasn't happened yet. Problem? I don't know.

Fact: What does make me happy, however, is my organized closet and color coordinated shirts.

Dresses, skirts, shirts, pants, sweatshirts, jackets. It is a beautiful system.

Fact: it costs 66,000 dollars to train one nurse.
Fact: a student will pay (at BYU, at least) only (ha, only) 11,000! ONE SIXTH! That is disgusting. Why does money make everything so complicated? Who thought of money? Stupid stupid idea.

Fact: I have many guilty feelings....I've eated so-ho much candy this week. Sick.

Fact: Vitamin water XXX acia-blueberry-pomegranate is my newest love. DElicious. Absolutely.

Fact: I ought be doing something more productive than this.

Standing in the Sun.

Last night I had a little too much fun playing with the settings on my camera. I then decided I could always take pictures for a living...these aren't too bad. They are really pretty flowers. The daisies are Katie's. The others are mine. They were meant to impress me before an 'interview'. It worked...

Today was a beautiful day, and the best part is that I got a really cool farmer's tan. This tan, however, is not like most. It starts just below the elbow and is only on my posterior side (I will throw in what I took from medical anatomy last year...and that's pretty much it). I find it is something to brag about, even if certain people don't think it's that cool. I got sun in March! Of course it's cool!

And it's five thirty and I'm done with PDbio homework. I have no's sunny, I didn't have to work (though that's not necessarily a good thing), and my class got out a couple minutes is a good day.

(And no, none of the previous means I'm engaged) (Grandpa...)

Crazy Beautiful

Like cherry blossoms in the spring,
Let us fall clean & radiant.

Little Furry Bugs

I wonder who thought the sound of crickets was relaxing. I'm sure it does remind you of a lazy day. But who wants to be imagining they're surrounded by little bugs?

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.

I am not meant to be an accountant. And now my already pathetic semblance of a college GPA will suffer for it.

Oh, I only need that to get into nursing.

And so starts this spiral of self doubt, self pity, and self annoyance again. Why must a nurse have a 3.9? What does that say? She doesn't have a job, friends, a desire for sleep, and other classes besides what she is majoring in? (Or hopes to major in..pre-nursing is a rather pathetic title of a major)

Other classes bring us back to accounting. I want to minor in business because I think it goes well with nursing. Well, right now, they go together as in I can't do either of them, and I will have an awesome freshman year to show for it.

I do not want to spend all my free time studying. I'm sorry, I do not. And if that means that I don't get in just because some other girls study all the freaking day long...well then so be it.

I wish I could be tested by having my brain scanned. I go to class every single freaking day. I do the homework. I pay attention. I try my best to learn. I study for tests. And I still some how find a way to not do well enough. I promise the knowledge is in there somewhere.

I promise.


Every once in a while you're reminded that you live with five other girls and in a building with many, many other girls.

Mostly at times when you're kinda tired, and you really want to take a nice warm shower.

Nope, sorry.

You woke up a little too late. Being fourth or fifth to shower in your apartment, and who knows how many showered before're stuck with a luke warm shower that is depreciating fast and you still need to shave your legs.

Blast social norms.

You Are So Beautiful to Meeee....

Murphy's law:

Nothing is as easy as it looks.

Boil pasta, then cook in casserole.

Who knew?

Mom, I promised he could have the real stuff sometime. This falls to you next time we come over. I'm sort of sorry, except for the fact I know I'll never live this down. So no, not really.

We watched little rascals. What cute little boys. (I probably am jinxing myself...)

One Fine Wire

There are a few things I would like to do. First, I would like to talk to the one other person on this earth who has made hamburger helper with vanilla soy milk. (I didn't know it needed milk when I bought it). Most soy milk drinkers are either vegans or take their lactose intolerance more seriously. I don't think, however, that powdered cheese will have the effect that milk or cheese does. I am probably wrong, but I will deal with it, because it looked really good on the package. Since I'm only 85% sure that's what it is, I would rather eat some dairy then cut it all out. Being lactose intolerant definitely cuts your food choices down. For now, gone are the days of yogurt (that's an entire meal!), grilled cheese, real mac and cheese, anything with cheese, string get the picture. Boo.

Second, I would also like to talk to the family whose meal consists of one box of hamburger helper. "One pound. One box. One happy family". Slightly embarrassing this may be to admit, I ate half a box in one setting. (That could also be due to my intense dislike for leftovers). (Or I just eat too much). What would the family meal look like that only used one? I am only one person. I would imagine there would be salad, soup, fruit, vegetables, rolls, perhaps a drink or two. I guess it would be the family with 1.2 kids and having just eaten hours before.

I know I complain a lot about aerobics, but I hate it. Today I wanted to walk out it was so ridiculous. Oh well, I survived. I'll just say one thing: I stand in the back for a reason, so I do not like when, during the RETARDED "country" and "electric slide" and whatever the charlston would go under routines, we have to rotate and face the different walls. If those really happy bouncy "I love aerobics" girls want to stand in the front, then I say we let them. And the day got much better once I left.

And now I must journey to the law library, where I feel like I'm spending all of my days there (okay, it's only Tuesday...) but I did go there twice yesterday. Oh well, such is the life.

Painting the Town Your Favorite Color..

I resent the fact that Sony doesn't have a mac version of their software, so the "cool" feature of hooking your phone up to your computer is lost...unless I switch to windows which would be a pain but perhaps I'll try it sometime. I was going to transfer the pictures of that painting that I am in love with, but alas, it did not work. Here are some pictures for the family/friends who don't have the face:
We should just drop out and be finger painters..
Go cougars...
Finger painting at its best..
In a very chaste way, we can't keep our hands off each other
(when dots, paint, water or anything else that can be thrown/smeared are/is involved)

This is when we hiked the Y about a month ago...

(Running Out of Time)

Today I will mail five letters. Two of them I'm sending internationally. The funny thing is that those two letters combined cost less than one letter stateside...or in one send it up the street. Two letters through DHL was thirty cents! How awesome! And weird, because that is what eleven cents less than a stamp? (Aren't stamps .41 cents?) Anyways, funny world.

Also, I was walking up the stairs in the bookstore and some guy is walking down the stairs reading a paper (for people like me, that would be deadly...) but it's blocking his whole vision field, so I have dodge out of his way and squeeze past him and he doesn't even notice. I thought it was hilarious.

If I had four hundred and eighty-five dollars, I would buy a painting called Provo Leaves...and I can't find a copy on the internet but I will somehow get a picture up here. It is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

And I have always hated (seriously, since about third grade) people who come to school after daylight savings and are like "yeah, it's really seven". No. I'm sorry, but it really is eight. And then they complain about how tired they are. Okay. The only time you "pay" for daylight savings is Sunday night. Once you wake up on Sunday, that's it. Going to sleep on Sunday night has nothing to do with daylight savings, because it really is ten. It isn't nine anymore, and hasn't been since midnight on Sunday. If you're really that concerned, go to bed at "nine" and quit complaining.

Louder Now.

I'm in the library for what will presumably be the next four hours of my life...and after having four hours of class and six and a half hours of work today, a homework filled evening was the first idea of fun that I had. So here I am, walking (well, right now I'm not walking...just imagine with me) into the library and I see a crowd of people sitting in the middle of the library. Why? I don't know. I keep walking, though I'm wondering if I can't be in here tonight because someone reserved it or something...who knows. At first, when I had my head phones in, I thought it was seminary of some sort. Then I hear a noise unlike I pull out a headphone, and some guy is singing....Surely not.

No, oh no. He's singing. And then there is an obsure piano piece. More singing. More music. A concert. In the library. Who knew? On a Thursday. In the LIBRARY. Please, someone explain. Surely, surely there is somewhere else on campus available. And hey, yeah, I haven't been here for a couple days, and maybe I missed the signs. But still. Concert...library. Who thought of that? May I talk to them? And, AND they are right in front of the stairs so I can't go up. I can't go too far out of the main part, as I need a table and a plug. (I don't want to waste my time finding an obsure table somewhere in the unknown parts of the Law I have never ventured up. Waste time, no, this isn't a waste of time. This is so I don't start yelling. I could leave, yes. But the chances of me getting things done at home are next to nothing). Boo.

What the fudge.

It's over. But don't worry (mom, don't worry, really).. It's over, but there is to be heard a more than gentle hum of people conversing after. Cool. I'll just study away, don't mind me.

This Week the

Here is a link explaining fMRIs. After reading, I still don't understand completely...but it could provide some insight. Regardless of the criticism...regardless of any "medical proof"...the only proof I need is constant and irrevocable: it destroys lives, relationships, marriages, families, and will destroy the world and could very well drag the church with it unless we remember how to do the small and simple things to keep the Spirit with us. The adversary has no power over us except what we give him.


This Week the Trend...

There were some articles on pornography in the Daily Universe. Here are some of the impactful quotes in the article:

President Hinckley said that the pornography industry "is a five-billion-dollar business for those who produce it. They make it as titillating and attractive as they know how. It seduces and destroys its victims. It is everywhere. It is all about us. I plead with you young men not to get involved in its use. You simply cannot afford to.
The girl you marry is worthy of a husband whose life has not been tainted by this ugly and corrosive material."

"I think it's unfortunate that society has changed so much to where women have lost respect for themselves to the point of accepting pornography when they should hold their boyfriends and significant others to a higher standard."

"Pornography is destroying lives and it may literally destroy the next generation."

"We would hope that here in Utah we would not be following the trend of the nation. However, we may be setting the trend. Utah ranks No. 1 nationwide in Google searches for pornography."

"When researchers cunducted fMRI scans on individuals who have been addicted to pornography for years, it was clear that "the part of the brain that deals with the moral behavior failed to develop properly". Essentially, the person is brain damaged....he blames her. It has nothing to do with her."

I feel helpless sometimes because of the scary statistics that come out about boys at BYU and pornography. My stake president once said that during one semester, during mission interviews, they could count on one hand the guys who hadn't been involved in pornography. I think the girls walked out rather depressed. Sometimes you feel like you have no idea what the boys you hang out with are doing, even though you have high standards for your friends. Even the best men get caught. What are they thinking? What were they doing last night...and now are you becoming an object? What is this world coming to? I hate it!

Kudos to those who this doesn't apply to. I know there are incredible guys out there. Like my dad and grandpas. I am very grateful for that fact.

Merry Happy

Another far Suzy, Lauren and I have had to pay up...
Yeah, I'm really creative...
This is Dave's cake, not Katies. But it still looks good. If I do say so myself...
This is the powdered sugar he blew all over his table....ha ha ha....
ignore my cool pajamas...
telling her we weren't making breakfast, but treating to lunch
I'm quite proud of my balloon choices...cute!
It was pretty late....Kristen drew, I narrated...
And that's pretty much our life...

Happy Birthday Katya! You're the bestest kind of friend...and these are some pictures of Kristen and mine's late adventures....the gems of the posters we put up around the apartment, a favorite roommate tradition.

Please speak heart is learning

The other day in aerobics was completely ridiculous. Well, okay, the first part wasn't too bad. I liked the work out and we had good music. Then she has us all get in a big circle (oh jeez...), start doing some step into the center (okay, are we done now?), and then is like we're going to play a game called fox and geese (oh. my. gosh. how old are we?!). So here is how the game works: she leaves the music up so no one can hear what you are saying. One person gets into the middle, says "my name is ______, and my favorite aerobic step is: something that we model, and then everyone does it. I was so excited because it sounded really fun.

Wait, did I say fun? I mean stupid. (once again.)

So then the person in the middle goes and stands behind someone and they have to go. Well, awesome! I don't know anyone in the class! Maybe I can stay rather invisible. No, some girl I've never met came and had me go out. Which, it was nice....then I didn't have to raise my hand later to say that I hadn't gone (Okay, yeah, I probably wouldn't have admitted it and we'd all be just fine). Needless to say, it was so lame. Oh that class. Such a catch 22.

Here is a poem I memorized in high school. I picked it because it reminds me of the best things in my life.

Sara Teasdale

Life has a loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring rire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup

Life has a loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy,
Give all you have been, or could be.

Sometimes, even though things are working out in a good way, you still worry. I'm a worrier. And I can't help it. A little water never hurt anyone though, right? I love my white singing hours.