I have been feeling shaky and pale and weak and confused for the last couple of weeks or days, I'm not sure, I lost track of time, due to various reasons too complicated and humiliating to explain. Serious things and silly things, a lot of it just in my head. I wouldn't worry too much, but I wouldn't mind it if you prayed for me all the same. Anyway, it really peaked today, getting to a point where I could barely keep standing. And dude, although I'm certainly not the healthiest eater in the world, I've been eating just as much as I normally do. So it wasn't like I was dizzy from lack of nourishment. All of this stress has made it difficult for me to remember to eat, or to even want to eat. But I know it's important and I do eat.

Anyway, this afternoon at about 2 or 2:30 I remembered to eat lunch, and when I began eating I was surprised to realize that I was completely famished. When I finished my lunch, I was still hungry, so I went to the vending machine. Dude, I probably ate over 600 k. calories of pure, unadulterated sugar. And oh my gosh, apart from my brain telling me that I'm too fat and that I need to throw up as soon as humanly possible, I feel SO MUCH BETTER. I can feel the blood rushing back into my fingers and face, the shaking is going away a little, I feel a lot stronger, and I feel like my brain is working again. I can think straight.

Part of me wonders if I am hypoglycemic or diabetic? I don't think so, but it was a weird experience. And hey, maybe my well-being will increase if I start sleeping at night, too! (Don't worry, I'm kidding. But only about 12%.)

Sometimes I wished I lived in an alternate universe, or that I could lead more than one life, or that I only ever wanted things that were good for me and my ultimate happiness. I'm so emotionally exhausted, and my physical fatigue doesn't help much.

Why is it that doing the right thing sometimes hurts more than doing the wrong thing? And I'm always the one who gets hurt. It's lose-lose for me: do the right thing, feel like your world is crumbling. Do the wrong thing, actually experience your world crumbling. I am too easily persuaded. I want too many incompatible things, and instead of giving up the ones I want NOW for the ones I want the most, I try and have both. What happens when the little boy sticks his hand in the jar of candy and takes a huge fistful? His hand gets stuck in the jar because it is too big to fit back through the opening, and he gets NOTHIIIIIIIIIING. Of course, I always thought this fable was complete crap, because if he really wants it that bad he should just pour it into his mouth, DUH. But whatever.

I feel so alone sometimes. It makes sense that I am always looking elsewhere for comfort and attention, since Mykle works all day and comes home only to play on his computer, go running, play guitar and go to sleep. And all day long I'm running around school, taking notes and doing homework and studying and reading, coming home at the end of the day to do dishes and laundry and clean and make dinner. Weekends aren't much better because Saturdays are loaded with homework, and I HATE going to church on Sunday. I love the gospel, but I hate the Mormon culture and the screaming children and the repetition, over and over and over. (I swear, I have had to sing "The Spirit of God" every week as a sacrament hymn for the entire month of August.) And when we go to Mykle's mom's house, Mykle talks with Connor and teaches him guitar and then everyone just watches TV. Then we get a holiday, Labor Day, and Mykle spends it away with his friends on a hike, leaving me at home because I was too tired (medications) to wake up on time.

I hate this. I hate it. It isn't what I want. Right now the ONLY fun, relaxing time I get is with Kate and Joe and Dot and Danny and Jane at Saturday Sibling Dinner. (if Mykle isn't skipping out, he is on his computer with headphones on for almost the entire time) I feel lonely because Mom and Pop are so far away, two of my best friends are in MA (Erin and Sam), the close connections I made in treatment are now nothing more than facebook friends, the only other friend I have out here is Greg and he is married and no longer has time to hang out, no one has time to hang out least of all my husband, and I have no car and can't go anywhere. I love Mykle, but I miss him. And he's not enough.

yeah yeah, nobody likes me everybody hates me guess I'll go eat worms. Pshhh. whatever. I'll be fine. Believe me. I mean, I've said it ten million times.

I think I'll feel better if I go swimming. Just a guess.

While I am thrilled not to be pregnant myself, I must say that babysitting Jane last night was a very joyous experience! She didn't cry once, at least not until Danny rang the doorbell twelve times. She is definitely the cutest and awesomest baby in existence. All other babies look alike, but Jane is distinct! (This doesn't mean that she is deformed, though I suppose deformed babies might not look alike either. Or black babies. Or asian babies. Or babies with birthmarks on their face. Or cartoon babies. Or babies who are born with lots of hair. Or babies who smoke cuban cigars. But other than that, they're all the same.)

Mykle did absolutely nothing, which is okay because I was hogging Jane the whole time and wouldn't let him do anything if he had wanted to. Haha.

Then last night I had a wonderful dream that Mykle and I were parents and had four (I think?) kids, and were wandering around this tiny little town in southern Utah that was having an annual summer barbeque, where they dug a shallow trench that went around the entire park, filled it with hot coals, and put their meat on top of the coals to cook so that when it was done anyone who wanted the cooked meat could just pick it up off the ground and sit down at a picnic table two feet away to eat. All you had to bring was bread and condiments. (During the dream, I thought to myself "Wow, there must be a more environmentally friendly way to do this!) I was wandering around with one of our daughters, whose name was Olivia and who was about 5, while the rest of the kids and Mykle wandered around nearby. Olivia was asking me questions about dogs, and I told her that dalmations were actually mean dogs, not like in the Disney movie (this is true). She asked why and I told her that I would give her a surprise if she would look it up on the internet and tell me when we got home. Then I left her for a minute and followed Mykle over to their souvenir shop, which was more like a convenience store. We talked for a little while, and then Mykle told me our oldest son needed a new piano practice book because he was advancing to the next level. Of course, this was available at the souvenir shop for some reason (go figure), and as he took it off the wall he said to me "You know, if we have any more kids, I want to name them something short and simple. I'm tired of the fancy long names." I was like "Olivia isn't a fancy name!" Then Mykle said "And another thing. I think we should start sending our kids to an easier school. I always wished that I could have gone to an easier school." I was like "WHAT??!! Mykle, you went to a STATE college and you always told me that you dinked around in high school because it was so easy!"

When I woke up and told Mykle this, he thought it was hysterical. And it might not be the best dream I've ever had, but it was very calm and nice, as opposed to the one the night before where I dreamt that Joe and Dot and Pop and Mykle and I were on a cruise with Sam Kurtis and his dad, and we all went swimming in the Adriatic Sea only everyone else wore bathing suits while I decided it would be more fun to skinny dip. That was awkward.

School has begun, and so far so good. On the plus side, I saved over $500 in textbooks by purchasing used copies online. On the down side, it'll probably take another week (or even two) for them to get here, leaving me unable to do important homework assignments and readings. Falling behind on the readings at the beginning of the semester does not bode well.
On the plus side, I passed the Compass test with flying colors on my second attempt without studying whatsoever, and am now capable of taking the math class I need, which is a prerequisite for another class, which is a prerequisite for another class, which is a prerequisite for another class that I need to graduate. So because I'm taking math 1040 now, I'll be able to graduate at the end of fall semester next year. (Worst case scenario I would have taken math 1040 next semester, stats for BS the first block of summer, research methods for BS the second block, and the 4000+ level class(es) fall 2010, but I don't feel quite so rushed this way.)
On the down side, this leaves me with 20 credit hours this semester.
On the plus side, only two of my classes are upper-level courses above the 3000 level.
On the minus side, one of them is math, which I haven't studied for six+ years, and which I am told requires at least 2 hours of work at home for every hour we spend in class.
On the plus side, 5 of my credits are for French 1020, which is pretty much the easiest subject ever after 4 years of french at WNS, and so it's basically like I'm taking 15 credit hours.
On the down side, I feel guilty for not challenging myself more in this area, especially since I really WOULD like to learn as much french as possible; it's something I'm good at and would be fun to learn, even if it didn't come in handy all that often. (but it might come in handy!)
On the plus side, I got all the teachers I wanted by looking on ratemyprofessors.com, and tried to insure that I got the most helpful teachers available. Also, no one TOO too difficult.
On the down side, and despite the fact that he was the best available option and that I've already taken a class from him before and it wasn't too bad, I already dislike one of my teachers.
On the plus side, I only have to see him twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
On the down side, I have to see him for 70 minutes at a time instead of 50.
On the plus side, I only have two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays and will therefore be able to sleep in.
On the down side, I have five classes on MWF, and they go from 9 to 10, 10 to 11, 11 to 12, 12 to 1, and 3 to 4. Except, with 10 minutes in between, obviously.
On the plus side, my first class of the day is a lot of fun, so I won't have to dread getting up in the mornings.
On the minus side, my 12:00 class is astronomy and takes place in the planetarium, where food and drink are prohibited. I can't eat in french class right before because we're always moving aroun d and playing games and there isn't any time. So I end up feeling like I'm about to die of hunger when I get out of astronomy at 12:50.
On the plus side, I can always snack throughout the day.
On the minus side, we have no food in our house.
On the plus side, I'm going grocery shopping with Mykle today.
On the minus side, this format is getting really annoying to read/write, and I kind of want to delete this entire entry because of it. But I won't.
I just finished reading "Flowers for Algernon" for the first time. It's a breeze to read as far as the writing style goes, but I took my time with it because it was so depressing. It got to the point where I was about 25 pages from the end, and I just stopped reading it for two weeks. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'd already skipped ahead and read the last sentence, so I knew it was going to end sadly and I wanted to avoid reading about it. But after awhile I was like, "I can't decide not to read the ending just because it's depressing," so I finished it. And dude, even though it's not even close to being the most disturbing, depressing, horrifying book I've ever read, it kind of got to me. Of course I felt silly for almost not finishing it, since in some ways it wasn't that terrible of an ending after all. It really shouldn't have ended in any other way, and he seemed to have more friends at the end than at any other point in the book.
Really, that was the part that I hated about it- the horrible way people treat him when he's retarded, as if he's not a real person, and the way he just trusts everyone and thinks they're all great friends to him. When it comes to emotional impact, evil (to me) has different layers. A thinner layer might be when someone who is mentally ill hurts someone. Thicker than that would be a sane person hurting another sane person who is also relatively self-sufficient and able to defend themselves. Thickest is when a perfectly sane human being uses their power to hurt someone who is utterly helpless to defend themselves, like a child or a senile elder or someone who is mentally/physically handicapped. The crime or offense committed might be the same in all three situations, but it just FEELS worse to me depending on the scenario. It reminds me of that scripture in the New Testament where Christ says that whoever offends "one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." And I'm sure I could turn this into a huge ethical debate, but whatever. I'm not really trying to prove something one way or another; I prefer just describing my feelings, which, although they help determine my beliefs, are not the same thing as my beliefs in and of themselves.
I'm also reading the last three books in the "Series of Unfortunate Events." While certainly not challenging, they are very entertaining for adults as well as kids. Actually, it's fun to read them as an adult because the author includes all sorts of surprising yet hilarious references throughout it. For example, in "The Slippery Slope," the orphans have to escape from Olaf by using a toboggan to slide down the mountain. Sunny, who's about a year old and speaks in gibberish most of the time, signals this to her siblings by yelling "Rosebud!" which, if you've seen Citizen Kane, is pretty funny. Actually, her gibberish words almost always are a reference to something else.
Sam made me want to read "the Fountainhead" again, but I've already read it three times, and should probably work on something new instead. I swear, half the books I read are books I've already read before! I guess I like repeating enjoyable experiences. That's not a bad thing. But I'll start something new this weekend anyway. And while "the Brothers Karamazov" is interesting enough to rivet me, I don't think I'll have the time or energy to conquer that one this semester so I'll have to put it down. Gosh, I read less than a hundred pages, but it sure felt like a lot more than that!

How funny that almost all of my entries are detailed lists of complaints. Maybe being more optimistic and grateful would help lower my blood pressure.

Only one paper and one final exam left before we leave for the Cape. Thank. Goodness. I haven't had an actual vacation since last summer. Unless you count two weeks of sitting at home, doing nothing and waiting for school to start between fall and spring semester. (They should call it "winter semester" in my opinion, since it includes January, February, and March, all of which are winter months. The "first day of spring" is on March 21st or something. But whatever. Nobody asked me.)

My resting heart rate is incredibly high. It's hard to tell if this is due to stress, dehydration, being completely out of shape, having an extremely imbalanced diet, or medications, since all of those things apply to me.

I'm just about at the end of my rope as far as stress goes. (Mykle will tell you that.) I thought it would dissipate after we moved out of the wicked witch of Springville's basement, and it did, but not by much. So now I'm hoping it will drop significantly after I take my last final on Friday. I don't like having crazy mood swings and panic attacks at the drop of a hat (no, I'm NOT pregnant; I DO have an anxiety disorder). It's like Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, minus the depression, diarrhea, and yeast infections. And the fatigue. And the apathy and insomnia. And the food cravings and binge eating. But other than that it's exactly the same.

I'm definitely dehydrated. Why not? I live in a desert, I sweat all day because it's insanely hot, and I drink soda. Except I haven't had any soda (or "pop" as they call it here... so annoying...) for awhile since I'm trying to be hydrated. But I'm definitely not, since hydration for me usually involves having to use the bathroom every 30-60 minutes. That is not the case right now.

I don't exercise because I hate exercising unless I feel like exercising, which is not very often but almost invariably involves being in an air conditioned room or going outside when it's NOT HOT. I have no motivation to exercise in this heat. I did walk a mile today while carrying about 3 tons of books, but that was not intentional and in no way inspired me to do it more often. I don't know how I lived through Wilderness Quest in the summer. I must have been coerced into it. Or maybe I was hypnotized.

I don't even want to discuss how my diet is imbalanced, except to say that (on a positive note) I've been eating meat again (I was never a vegetarian, I just didn't cook). This is probably because I've been eating out way too often (my parents are visiting and keep treating me). Actually, I'm quite sick of restaurants. I might even be so tired of restaurants that I try cooking (I know, it's a drastic thing to do, but it's either that or gain weight, and you can probably guess which one I'm more terrified of) (though they're both neck and neck) (seriously). Also, I don't eat enough vegetables and my fruit intake, as usual, is zero. Unless Kate snuck some fruit into that sweet and sour chicken last night; I thought it tasted a little too sweet, and also kind of sour at the same time. I'll have to ask her about that. Except that I did ask her about it. And she said no. Hah. In my experience, the adage that you can never be too rich or too thin should instead say "You can never be too careful or too suspicious when it comes to fruit." Wise words.

Medications. *sigh* I can't just NOT take them. And I'm not going to start on geodon again, which I used to take for anxiety, because it's incredibly expensive and I hated the side effects. And though I have some trileptal at home, that just makes my moods completely stale. And seroquil was just a nightmare. (I mean that in the MOST literal sense of the word.) But hey, I just realized, medications can't be the problem. I've been donating plasma all summer and haven't had issues with my heart rate until now.

Actually, that's the reason I'm even concerned about my pulse. I've been rejected from the plasma donation center the last five or six times I came in; one time my protein level was too low, but all the other times it was my heart rate that was too high. It's SO frustrating too, because you have to have a pulse of 100 or lower to donate, and mine is always 102, 103, 105, 104, etc. It was 103 today, and on July 31st it was 101. Not only was that maddening because I was ONE BEAT off (they NEVER retake it for you; believe me, I've tried), but if I had donated that day I would have gotten an extra $10 for coming eight times that month. Since it was the last day of the month, I was SOL.

The worst part about it (or one of them) is that I always spend 15 minutes to AN HOUR AND 15 MINUTES in the waiting room, only to go in and be denied. When you factor in the time it takes for me to either catch three different buses or walk home, that's a lot of wasted time. They NEED to have a machine that measures your heart rate in the waiting room. Although I guess I could just take my pulse manually. Dammit, why didn't I ever think of that?

Problem is (and I don't know why this always happens) that my pulse is very calm and relaxed when I sit in the waiting room, but as soon as they call me up to get tested, I get a shot of adrenalin. Not only that, but right before I have my hr and bp taken, they put me on a scale and weigh me. Even though I always turn around and ask them not to tell me the number, this is very nerve racking for me. I might be in my fourth or fifth year of recovery, but getting weighed sucks! And it'll probably always suck! Pshh. Stupid people. They should at least give me another chance if my hr is too high the first time. Bloody doctors.

Because of course I'm entitled to "donating" plasma. Everyone knows that! Or they should.

I know this journal entry is going to sound whiny, but I want to clarify, not complain.

Dude, I swear. Everyone I ever talk to thinks being born on the 4th of July is the coolest thing in the universe. When I tell people my birthday, this is what I hear 99% of the time:

"Oh. OooooOOOH!!! JULY fourth! You're a firecracker baby! How fun! [pause] You know, July 4th has always been my favorite holiday!"

Oh, BS. Everyone knows your favorite holiday is Christmas and/or Halloween. People always say they love the 4th of July simply because they don't want to be like everyone else. Sure, maybe some people learn to like it as they get older, but come on. Kids love costumes, candy, and presents. Watermelon and fireworks just don't cut it when you're little. So don't tell me it's always been your favorite, because I know you're lying.

And while I certainly don't hate my birthday (it's WAY better than being born on Christmas), I think I need to clear up a few common misconceptions about it. First though, I will list all the positive things. I know I'm a whiner, but I don't want to sound like one all the time.

Things I Like About Being Born on July 4th:

1.) It's nice never having to do homework, take a test, or go to school on my birthday.
2.) I'm usually surrounded by my family
3.) I like ice cream cake (people always seem to opt for that in the summer)
4.) Generally speaking, it is easy for people to remember (and those who forget really have no excuse)
5.) Fireworks, when it's a decent display and you're close enough to see them, are pretty freakin' awesome to watch.
6.) I always loved swimming when I was growing up, so pool parties were a favorite of mine. (If I'd been born in March, that wouldn't have been very doable.)
7.) The weather's usually good. Sometimes.
8.).......

Okay, that's all I can think of. Now, here are some questions and comments people make to me. All. The. Time. And my real responses to them. I put them in order of popularity:

1.) "You were born on July fourth??!"

Yes. Yes I was.

2.) "How fun!!"

Not particularly.

3.) "When you were little, did you think the fireworks were for you?"

No. I have never thought that. I may have been sheltered as a kid, but I wasn't an idiot. I never believed in the tooth fairy or the easter bunny either. And when I was three, my dad told me I could either believe in Santa Claus or Jesus Christ. Which one do you think I chose?

4.) [singing] "Born on the fourth of Julyyyyyyyyy!!"

Yes. I've heard that song before.

5.) [singing] "You're a Yankee doodle Daaaaandeeeee..."

I've heard that one too.

6.) "You know, the fourth of July has always been my favorite holiday."

Bull. Everyone loves Christmas. Even the Jews I know love Christmas. They have a tree and presents and everything. I might believe you if you said Halloween. Easter? You're pushing it. July 4th? Hah!

7.) "At least you never have to go to school on your birthday."

Yeah, that's nice. Except that I've always adored school. Growing up, I used to spend my entire summer (minus a mandatory 2 week family vacation/road trip) sketching and playing games by myself in my room. By "sketching" I mean drawing pictures of the fun things I was going to do when school started, and by "games" I mean one-person mancala, one-person Yahtzee, one-person Monopoly, making shapes with Tangrams, making pot holders, knitting, making coasters with pearler beads, practicing my signature, hitting my knee with a stick to see my leg kick, and peeling all the skin off my legs as I tried to shave them. All of this was done while listening to books on tape. Yeah, I really knew how to throw a party.

Also, in elementary school I was always jealous of the kids whose mothers made cupcakes for the whole class on their birthday. Or that one kid who was born near the end of October, and his mom made dirt cups with worms and candy gravestones and candy pumpkins and everything. That was great. My mom brought in popsicles on the last day of school once. But it just wasn't the same. Plus, my MOM came to the class. Not so cool in the third grade.

8.) "I love fireworks."

So do I. When they're decent. Decent means long enough, close enough, dark enough, enough variety, and good quality fireworks that explode like flowers high in the air. (aka, not the kind you buy in the store that just spit sparks at you) I've only seen a decent display of fireworks about three times in 21 years of being alive. The thing about fireworks is, A.) They're FIRE-works. That means they burn things. That means that if the state you live in is dry and there's a drought and there are a lot of flammable plants around, the light show might get cancelled. B.) Because they're fireworks, it cannot be too wet when you set them off, either. If it is too wet, you wait till the 5th or 6th. Kind of anticlimactic. C.) Quality fireworks are expensive, and you are often required to pay money to get what I would call a "decent" seat. D.) Fireworks are very popular. This means you either save your spot for hours ahead of time, or you park three miles away. Either way, it's a two hour drive home with all the traffic. (And when I say two hours, I'm referring to the people who only live five miles away.) E.) Fireworks are loud. F.) They go on alllll night. Combine F with E, and you end up with something less than a good night's sleep.

So, you know. Pros and cons. Sure, they're worth it. But not for everyone. I certainly don't plan on going to Stadium of Fire anytime soon. To see who? Taylor Hicks? The Jonas Brothers? Hannah frickin' Montana? Riiight.

9.) "I wish I had a summer birthday."

I believe you. Summer seems to be a popular season. Personally, I detest summer because I hate hot weather, I'm not a fan of the beach, I loath amusement parks (water parks included), I burn easily in the sun, my allergies get really bad, I get tons of bug bites, and I've never had air conditioning before. Hot weather saps my energy, and I end up spending all my time indoors watching TV. It's ridiculous. It's also hard to sleep, since I can't sleep without a blanket, but if I have a blanket I get too hot. And when you sleep with a fan, you wake up with chills. And I ALWAYS get sick in the summer. WHY???

Another thing about summer birthdays that people born in the spring, fall, or winter tend to overlook: summer vacations. For some people, this is great. It means you spend your birthday at Disney Land. For most people, it means that either you spend your birthday away from all your friends, surrounded by relatives you hardly know, OR you celebrate it at home and all your FRIENDS are on vacation with their families. It's just the reality of the situation.

Of course, having my friends away on vacation was never a huge problem for me, since I thoroughly enjoyed playing one-person mancala in my room while listening to "The Indian in the Cupboard" on tape. (Sadly, this is true.)

10.) "Are you super-patriotic then?"

Uhh, is someone born on Christmas required to believe in Santa? Sure, I'm patriotic. I don't plan on moving out of the country any time soon. But I'm not enlisting in the army or anything. I don't donate tons of money to the marines. I'm not even into politics, really; apart from the Daily Show, the Colbert Report, and maybe NPR, I don't really keep up with the news so much.

But somehow, people do not seem to understand this. Somehow, everyone seems to think, "Oh, she's born on the fourth of July! That means she's patriotic, and THAT means I'm going to buy a gift for her that goes along with that theme!" Oh. My. Gosh. I do NOT want things that are red white and blue with stars and stripes. This includes hair accessories, CLOTHES, hats, pens, nail polish, anything with sequins, sunglasses, regular glasses, underwear, loofas, movies, balloons, birthday cakes, birthday candles, birthday party hats and napkins and plates and cups and spoons and ribbons and wrapping paper, dolls, stuffed animals, toys, CDs (believe it or not, I don't want to spend all year listening to the Battle Hymn of the Republic), stationary, watches, socks, purses, jewelry, books, or oversized, fire-engine-red T-shirts with an enormous picture of Uncle Sam's face on the front. Ohhhh, I could tell you stories about the T-shirts I've gotten. Ugly redwhiteandblue T-shirts are by far the MOST popular gift to give me. Even the nice T-shirts aren't all that great, seeing as how I only ever wear them about three times a year. I don't know what season I am when it comes to clothes, but I'm fairly sure that it's not "Barber Shop Pole."

That being said, I am CONSTANTLY telling people not to buy me anything for my birthday. I don't want store-bought gifts unless you give them to me on a random day, just to let me know you're thinking of me. (Maybe not even then.) I do not want presents on my birthday or Christmas unless they are homemade or intangible, like spending time with me, writing me a long letter, or making dinner for me. (Dinner is HIGHLY appreciated ANY day of the year) No one usually listens to me when I make this request, except Dot (she gave me one of her paintings last Christmas and it is AMAAAAZZZINNGGGG!!!) and Mykle. (He cooked me breakfast and did all the dishes afterwards; although you know, he's like the ONE person I would like to get something from. Oh well.)

Those who did give me presents, I thank you so much, they were and are wonderful. I am especially excited for the tickets to see "Singin' in the Rain." And I do need undershirts. And of course I love the gift card to Barnes and Noble :) But I hope you realize that despite my gratitude, I still wish I'd just gotten nothing! It's not that I feel like I don't deserve presents, but I have so much already that it's just plain ridiculous for people to give me more. Plus, why are we celebrating me? All I did was survive one more year of my life. We should be celebrating mom!

Birthdays just don't make any sense to me. I'm not excited about the way they're celebrated these days. And it sucks, because I can't NOT give my kids presents for their birthday unless I want to be seen as The Meanest Mom on the Planet. Good thing I don't HAVE kids. That's a load off my mind. And my uterus.

What is the purpose of a blog? For some people, a blog is a way to update everyone they know about how they're doing. I choose to use facebook for that. My brother keeps a photo blog to get feedback (and possibly earn money); I like his photo safari blog because it allows me to see life through his lens. However, this is not the reason I keep a blog. (I don't post all that many photos, as my readers know) A lot of people keep a blog to share their happiness with the world- "My life is wonderful!" "I went skiing yesterday!" "I found a new recipe for snickerdoodles!" blah blah blah. Okay, good for you. Write about what you want, that's fine. But don't expect me to digest pure sugar. Obviously, this is not what my blog is about either.

Some blogs are more specialized: book club blogs, political blogs, fiction-writing blogs, cooking blogs, spiritual blogs, blogs about your kids or your pregnancy, etc. Dude, that is totally fine. You write what you want to write; online or on paper, it's still YOUR journal. And the thing about journals is, they are your feelings at a given place and time and point in your life. And unless you are writing very factually or objectively, there's a pretty good chance that you won't always feel the same way for the rest of your life, or even for the rest of the day. Even political and moral views are subject to change as a person grows and develops and learns more about the world around them.

Individuals progress as they get older. I keep my online journal in order to record my progression as a person, and I publish it on the internet so that my readers can appreciate where I've been, where I am now, and where I'm going. And I am selective about my readers. (speaking of which, if anyone reading this- aka Joe- has posted a link to my blog from theirs, I'd appreciate it if you would delete that) I hope that anyone who does read my blog has enough sense to filter the things I write, always keeping in mind 1) What they're reading (it's a blog, not a newspaper; I try, but I'm not always politically correct). 2) The context of the situation (if I'm angry, I'm probably venting, and if I'm venting it means I'm trying to work through my anger because I don't plan on staying angry forever; even if I say in my blog "I will always be angry about this," it's probably not true because I surprise myself all the time). 3) Who is writing this blog. Hi. It's me. I'm Sarah, and I am a direct person. If I'm mad at someone, I like to tell them about it. I also expect people to do me the same courtesy. I appreciate candidness and honesty. I don't appreciate verbal/written attacks, holding back your feelings, or passive-aggressive behavior. If someone doesn't like the way I do or say something, I need to know about it asap, preferably in the moment (unless to do so is inappropriate). My feelings get hurt when someone pretends everything is fine for awhile, and then brings up past issues later when I offend them again. Dude, if you don't give me feedback about what I'm doing wrong, it's pretty much inevitable that I'm going to do it again. Let me know! That being said, I try and do the same for others. I realize that I am blunt and lack tact about 85% of the time. I struggle with that, and I'm trying to do better.

Where am I going with this? Well, some people keep an online journal in order to play mind games with their readers; it is an easy way to criticize a specific person with generalized statements, so that most of the readers know who you're talking about, but if the person you were criticizing confronts you, you're still able to deny it. Yeah, that's not my style. And it's not my sister's style either. I don't know all the reasons why she keeps a blog, but I know she does not play those kind of games. Kate is very direct- kind of like me, except with less boldness and more tact. This usually serves her well.

However, she recently posted something on her blog that received a lot of criticism and negative comments. I won't go into it too much (some of you already know what I'm talking about), except to say that her sisters-in-law (and maybe their husbands?) made a huge fuss about it. Kate was venting about some of the annoyances of being pregnant, and they took it personally.

I don't think Danny's sisters are bad people. I have my own reasons for disliking them, unrelated to this issue, but I still think they are nice and well-meaning girls, despite my aversion. They are not malicious people, and they took Kate under their wing in her pregnancy. However, I was not pleased with the way they chose to react in this situation. Instead of asking Kate to clarify her feelings, people jumped to conclusions right off the bat. Dude! It's a blog! It's not a piece of hate mail! She didn't direct it towards a specific person- she didn't even mention people by name! Take a chill pill!

I realize I am jumping to the defense of my sister, and, by doing such, I appear to have a biased point of view here. Well of COURSE I'm biased! She's my sister! Also, BECAUSE Kate is my sister, she is someone I've known for my entire life. I've grown up with her and I've seen her at her best and at her worst. I've seen her be purposefully mean, I've seen her hurt people on accident, and I've witnessed her venting her emotions. As a kid and teenager, I spent more time listening to Kate vent than doing homework! I know what her venting sounds like, and I know what it looks like. And, more often than not, I've been around to see Kate take some time to calm down and reframe her thoughts. Kate has a fiery temper (that wasn't a comment about your red hair, Kate), but she is innately a peace maker. Her anger goes away as fast as it comes. She does not hold grudges the way I tend to, and she is ALWAYS the first to apologize (another thing I struggle with). So she wrote something you found offensive. Okay then. Go ahead and talk about it, that's fine. But seriously folks, there's effective communication, and there's waving a club around in the dark. Commenting on someone's blog without revealing your identity? Not a big deal in some cases, but if the goal is to achieve some sort of mutual understanding, anonymity is not the most mature approach out there. If you want to build a positive relationship with Kate, or anyone for that matter, you have to give them a chance to clarify what they said, and always, ALWAYS give them room to change.

You might say "But Kate was the one jumping to conclusions and making accusations and calling people names! It's her fault for being mean and starting the argument!" Uh, it's a blog. An online JOURNAL. A journal is a place where you can write about your feelings, whatever they may be. Even feelings that are crazy and irrational are valid. It's how you see the world in that moment. Yeah, you might want to censor a journal entry that you're planning to post on the internet. But the things you choose to leave out say just as much about you as the words that you publish. I've probably deleted about three posts on this blog. If I remember correctly, most (if not all) of them were rude comments about Day, directed towards Day, and published on my blog because I knew she would read them. I chose to delete them after I calmed down and realized A) how immature I was being, and B) how little she deserved it. I say some dumb things sometimes, and I do choose to erase the most asinine of my entries. However, I prefer to leave up as many posts as possible (even the ridiculous, dumb, whiny ones- of which there are many) because, who am I kidding? It's me. It's my life. I do and say dumb things all the time; if I cut those posts out, it's not me anymore. I want to BE real, and I want my blog to be real so that people who read it can SEE that I'm real. I try to share this link with people who can understand my reality. You don't have to sympathize, you don't have to agree--- heck, you don't even have to read it. But if you do, just take it for what it is.

And that is what I think Kate's readers should have done: take it for what it is. (well, "was," since she deleted it) And if they aren't sure WHAT it is, they need to ask! I mean, they've met Kate. They like her. They know she's a nice girl. And they should know that Kate is smart and informed. But then she posts something they don't like, and it turns into this argument. Dude. Kate is not an insensitive, oblivious, judgmental person. If she's acting that way, you need to take a minute to think about it: "Okay, what is she trying to accomplish by saying this? What is her underlying emotion here? Why do I feel angry about it? What are MY underlying emotions? Is this a misunderstanding, or is it possible that she's just expressing her momentary frustration here? And what would be the best way to approach her about my feelings and give her some feedback?"

I realize this is a lot to expect from casual blog readers. Still, these girls MUST have realized that they've only seen one or two sides to Kate. When Kate wants to make friends and gain approval from people, she's on her very best behavior for as long as possible. But everyone gets frustrated! And, though I've never been pregnant, everything I've heard and seen about pregnant women tells me that they are not immune to getting frustrated either! When people get frustrated, they are not always diplomatic and careful with their words. They might even choose to vent their frustrations and post it online, so people will understand how they're feeling. Is it your job to correct someone when they are insensitive or oblivious or judgmental? Hmm, maybe if you're talking to them face to face and their comments are directed towards you. (this doesn't mean that the comments have to be ABOUT you, but that they are spoken TO you) But a couple paragraphs in an online journal? Come on. It's a friggin blog, dude. You should feel privileged to be invited into such a personal part of someone's life. It means they trust you.

When I share my emotions with someone and they start picking at me for it, it sure as hell doesn't make me want to do it again. If Danny's sisters want a strong friendship with Kate, they need to put themselves out there the way she is. "Kate, I read your blog, and I am a bit confused. I thought you were sympathetic towards me/my sister on this issue, but you sounded very judgmental here. Were you just venting? If not, can you clarify what you meant when you said such-and-such?" You can confront someone without destroying the trust. I know Kate is very resilient and strong, but dude, you guys are throwing her a baby shower soon. (that's actually tonight) Who's supposed to have fun at a baby shower? And how can the expecting mother have fun when she doesn't feel comfortable being there? Yeah, the hostess needs to be comfortable too, and I am definitely glad Danny's sisters didn't choose to refrain from saying anything until after the shower. That would have been much worse. I support talking it out! But dude, your approach was not classy. If it had been, Kate would not have begged Dot and me to go with her to the shower tonight for moral support.

All I'm saying is, people need to take each other at face value (not "blog value"). This means that you have to clarify things and make sure you really understand one another before you take offense or start a fight. Chances are, if you understand each other first, you can come to some sort of agreement and prevent the fight from happening in the first place. I'm not the most diplomatic of people (hahahaha... *sigh*), and if I ever claimed to be perfect at something, it was probably a joke (even if I was serious, it's a joke). My grossest errors in communication have been (surprise surprise) through email/over the internet. It is easy to misunderstand someone in writing, especially when you're typing. My handwritten letters tend to be better thought out. Typing? Pshhh! I'm fast and sloppy and word things wrong all the time. And so does everyone else. Also, social inhibitions are different over the internet, and people are more easily offended. It's just one of the realities of online communication. It can be great when people open up more, or it can suck and people can read you wrong. If you make too many assumptions, feelings get hurt and you might even lose a friend or two. It's a tricky thing; I learned this the not-very-fun way.

Kate deleted her blog entries that were offensive and posted an apology. I respect her choice to do this (maybe it's not exactly what I would have done, but I told you, she is a peace maker), and so I'm not going to post what she wrote here. If you want to know, you can ask her. She's on facebook. If you want her email or the address to her blog, send her a message on facebook. Her name is Kate Challis. I try not to post people's information on my blog without permission. (though I think I posted the link to your blog, Day, without asking--- let me know if you want me to delete that, I'd be more than happy to)

I don't like baby showers, and I hope going tonight doesn't give me another reason to hate them. I promised Mykle I wouldn't get into any fights, and I'm pretty sure I won't. Besides, I know Kate would just get mad at me if I was rude to Danny's family. And I don't want to offend Danny, since he's an awesome guy and a great husband to Kate. So, like Obama on SNL, I will "keep it cool." I think I might have done it once before, so I should be all set ;op



Anyway, this is the comment I left on Kate's blog:

"I appreciate the honesty of your blog entries. Blogs that ignore the negative aspects of life are boring and unrealistic. I don't read them. Though it's true that you have to be aware of your audience, your audience also has to be aware of you. When you read someone's blog, you have to say to yourself "Okay, are they venting? Were they upset when they wrote this?" etc.

The night of my temple sealing, I was extremely upset and I vented about it on my blog. However, in the next entry (a few days later), after a good night's sleep and some time to think about it, I wrote another entry about how wonderful everything was. Even the greatest experiences of your life can be painful (as you probably know with your pregnancy). Fortunately, the people who read my blog understand my mood swings and need to vent; they give me time and space to come to peace with things.

Also, when I am directing a comment towards a specific person, whether the comment is positive or negative, I always say WHO I'm talking about. In my opinion, you can't take something personally unless they MAKE it personal by identifying you specifically. Though I realize that you were talking about a sensitive topic, I think people need to remember what they're reading- it's an online journal. It's not the Boston Globe. It is your feelings at the exact moment you wrote it. It's not your feelings every second of every day for the rest of your life.

I think it's great that your entry started a discussion on the topic which allowed you to see things from other perspectives. But seriously, before people go and take offense at your words, they need to take a breath, give you some time, and begin by asking you to clarify what you said as it applies to them. You mentioned early on that none of your siblings had offended you; this could very well apply to siblings-in-law as well. Obviously there is more than one way to read something, and because a blog is written and not spoken, (and it is initially a one-way conversation) a lot of things are missing. If the content is offensive to someone, they need to ask you to fill in the blanks before jumping to conclusions. Or, they can jump to conclusions and everybody's feelings get hurt, especially theirs and yours. I don't know about you, but that's not my reason for keeping a blog. Though it is my reason for being highly selective about my readers."

[talking about how other people are often intimidated by her high level of intelligence):

"Yeah, it's such a drag."

http://news.cnnbcvideo.com/?nid=g_SMfmm5BLpWkPNYeC8bvTEzNzUxOTc4&referred_by=16524282-tHPrFDx&p=moveon

Wow! My mom was on the national news! Sweet!

Here's my list of things I need to do to prepare for being a mother:
- Keep a clean(er) house
- Learn to cook at least 12 different meals by heart, with at least 15 different sides
- Take daily vitamins
- Keep a budget
- Get a few credit cards (I don't have any right now! Maybe one? Je ne sais pas.)
- Learn to like different kinds of food (I don't know if this will ever happen where fruit is concerned.)
- Get my Bachelor's degree
- Save lots of money
- Read scriptures twice a day (once with Mykle, and again for personal study)
- Pray at least four times a day, not counting meals (morning personal/spouse, evening personal/spouse)
- Go to the temple at least once every two weeks
- Stop playing text twist and tetris online
- Exercise more than I currently am (if I exercise twice as much as I do now, I still won't be exercising!)
- Get rid of all my R rated movies (How sad; I loved "Good Will Hunting.")
- Babysit Kate's baby when she comes (if I am found to be trustworthy)
- Eat healthier foods
- Get CPR certified (and renew certification when necessary)
- Find my bowie knife (probably not a good thing to leave lying around)
- Stop drinking soda (nooooo!)
- Stop drinking alcohol/caffeine (noooo!)
- Stop taking illegal drugs (noooo!)
- Talk to my doctor
- Get better health coverage

... And probably ten million other things. But don't get too excited, dearest mother-in-law who may be reading this; It could take me a long time to do all these things. Like, at least a year and a half to graduate alone. And ten months until I can switch to a better health insurance plan. I just figure there are a lot of things here I need to start working on now.

Like cooking. I hate cooking. I never cook. I eat sandwiches and cereal, and hot meals at Kate's and Connie's. I think I need to work on that. I mean, even JOE knows how to cook 12 entrees and 15 sides- he knows MORE than that! We counted them up because I told him that his market value would go up 40% if he could do that. I can't believe my own BROTHER is a better cook than I. That's just sad. Of course, I can bake, but baking is easy. And you can't exactly eat a batch of cookies for a meal.

I can make the following without a recipe:

Instant mashed potatoes
Spaghetti/pasta
Ramen Noodles
Pancakes/waffles
Grilled cheese sandwiches
Omelets/eggs
Soup from a can
Bread (without a bread maker)
Frozen vegetables
Rice/chinese rice
Baked potatoes
Hot Pockets
Rice packets in the microwave
Tacos/taco salad
Burritos/quesadillas
Hamburgers/hotdogs
Caesar salad/seven layer salad
Rice curry
Chicken breasts
Bisquick biscuits
Ten different kinds of cookies from scratch
Muddy Buddies
Microwave popcorn
Cake from a box
Two different kinds of cake from scratch
Homemade pretzels
Homemade bagels
Rice Krispy treats
Quiche

All that, and I churn my own butter, too! Wow!

Some palindromes I came up with the other day:

I prefer pi.
Was it a bat I saw?
Gary knits a stinky rag.

There was also something about "a mall llama," but I forget the whole thing. And no, I did not get these online. The ones you find online are dumb and typical, like "Madam, I'm Adam," etc. Boring.

I wonder how/if you could program a computer to find palindromes for you. Like, first they make sure that all the things can be separated into actual words, and then they send them through Microsoft Word to see if they work as sentences/phrases. It's probably been done before.

Now I have to go do a pile of homework/housework.

Curse that game! Curse Ben for showing it to me! Now I'm stuck deconstructing words in my sleep, literally!

Of course, as of late, my brain has taken it a bit further. Instead of simply coming up with six-letter words and trying to think of all the words you can get from them, I switched to thinking of palindromes. This started simply enough, when I asked Mykle "I wonder if there are three letters that can form a word no matter what order they're in?" At first, the closest I came was R-A-E, which can spell "are," "ear," and "era." Then I thought of T-A-E, which can spell "eat," "ate," "tea," and "eta." (Also, "aet." is short for aetatis, and "T.A.E." are Thomas Alva Edison's initials, but those don't really count as words.)

Then I started thinking about three-letter words that can work forwards and backwards, like "raw" and "war," "tar" and "rat," and "sag" and "gas." This is what got me thinking about palindromes.

So in the shower last night, I started thinking about palindromic words that were longer than three letters, like "stats," "level," "seres," and "redder." The longest one I came up with (and it's only seven letters) was "reviver." (yes, that is a real word)

Then this morning, while lying in bed, waiting for Mykle to finish his run, I started combining the words to make funny phrases. The best one I could come up with was "straw warts." Of course, I could say "straw end new arts," but that doesn't exactly make sense.

Of course, when I told all of this to Mykle, his response was "A man, a plan, a canal, Panama!" Har har.

I guess the palindrome of the day is "straw warts." (I have a better one, but I'm saving it for later.)

...has returned to the Mykle and Sarah (and Grandpa) household! I turned in my last exam yesterday, and Mykle finished his on Wednesday. It's AMAZING how much the stress and tension in our lives has dissipated now that school's out. Mykle and I spent all day today and yesterday together, and it (almost) feels as carefree and fun as before we got engaged!

*Note: People kept warning Mykle about when the honeymoon would be over; his response (and this is SO true) was that the honeymoon was over when he asked me to marry him. We were so young and naive when we were just boyfriend/girlfriend... We probably still are now, but it doesn't FEEL that way.

I saw the movie "Get Smart" yesterday with Kate and Danny, Brandon and his wife (Danny's friends), Joe, and Mykle. I was the only one who hadn't seen it. It was great! Some parts were weird because they completely changed it from the original version (like 99 was a TOTALLY different person, and I don't remember agent 23 from the show), but the punch line near the end was classic and the casting was great. I love Steve Carell.

I got a new job, which is good. Then it occurred to me, why do I have to work over the summer while I take 15 credit hours if Mykle is supposedly going to get a second job? (He needs a break, and we can't afford to send him to summer school.) But seeing as how he has not yet been able to find a second job, I'm willing to work in the meantime. And I'll need a job next fall, so maybe it'll be better to work in the summer as well and not have to deal with another job search in the future.

Not that this new job is going to be that great. In fact, I've only been to one training session, so I don't know what it'll be like exactly, though I imagine it will be somewhat similar to my last one. My new job is selling identity theft protection over the telephone. I only took the job because I feel confident reading scripts and talking to people over the telephone, and because it pays $10/hour or commission, whichever is higher. That's about the highest paying job I was able to find that I would be qualified to do.

I also applied to Build-a-Bear, and if I end up getting accepted I'll probably switch to that. It'll pay less, and I think people who shop there are kind of dumb because their things are ridiculously high priced, but I'd prefer to work with kids than to have grown ups yelling at me over the phone. I know that selling something I don't believe in whatsoever (aka, Build-a-Bear) indicates a sever lack of integrity, but I never said I wasn't a selfish person. So we'll see.

I would fulfill my promise right now and write about all the reasons why our anniversary was awesome (and it's certainly not hard to come up with reasons; I felt SO much better about it all the next morning), but I'm typing this at Mykle's mom's house, and am being told to get off the computer, so maybe tomorrow.

It's too bad Day got sick and the communist party was canceled-slash-postponed. I hope she feels better. (Mykle was sick too! Hey, have they been hanging out together in secret? Hmmm...) But I did get a good dose of communist chatter today when Mykle and I attended a debate between Greg Lucero and Myke's friend Robert from high school. Greg of course represented "the people," and Robert argued for capitalism. It was pretty intense. It was funny because whenever anyone from the audience asked a question (and almost all the audience consisted of communists), it would be addressed to Robert and was phrased to sound somewhat attacking. However, Greg would answer first and the first thing he would say was "First of all, your question is irrelevant/ridiculous/stupid because..." and/or "Your understanding of capitalism/communism is fundamentally wrong because..." (Except for my question; I tried very hard to phrase it in such a way that the only assumptions I made were already stated by either one of them in the debate; Greg scares me and I don't want him to insult me. Also, I was one of the only ones who actually asked a QUESTION, rather than try and second Greg's rebuttal. There should have been a rule about that.) In that way, Robert was far more gregarious than Greg.

It was extremely interesting to watch the group, from a sociological perspective. After the debate, Mykle and I went to talk to Robert (me, to be introduced), and Greg went off to talk to everyone else (the communists). I glanced over and it was hard to keep from smiling; Everyone was perched on tables and chairs and desks, with Greg in front of them, listening to him speak and nodding after almost everything he said. For someone so critical, he certainly has some avid followers (with "fundamentally wrong understandings of capitalism/communism"). I wonder if Greg ever feels lonely because so few people actually understand his beliefs (myself included), let alone agree with him. Even the crowd he has managed to amass at UVU, (and I highly doubt any of these people would be friends if not for Greg, the common thread) none of them really "get" what it is he's trying to say. I wonder if he'd have a better time of it at a really elite college on the east coast. Or maybe it'd be worse. I have no idea.

Robert's beliefs are just as "out there"; he is a self-described Nietszcheist, Taoist, and capitalist. (He says if you give him three hours, he can explain himself; I'll just trust him on that.) He was really nice, very cheerful and a lot easier to understand than Greg. And no, it's not necessarily because he didn't use as many long words; I think it was more due to the fact that he didn't make assumptions about what everybody else in the room knew. And this might have been because the only person in the room Robert was acquainted with was Mykle. At any rate, I have a lot of respect for him, not only for being brave enough to debate in front of a bunch of people he'd never met (almost all communists, at that), but also because he was brave enough to debate against Greg. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Both of them did an awesome job, at least in my opinion. And with only one day of preparation, too. I was impressed. Some of the analogies made were kind of dumb (like the abusive-boyfriend analogy, or the getting-paid-for-taking-a-dump-in-someone's-mouth analogy), but whatever, it wasn't a very formal setting and like I said, not a lot of time for preparation. Kudos.

It was strange for me to listen to the debate, seeing as how I am neither a communist nor a capitalist. In fact, capitalism in general disgusts me, and I find communism to be kind of ridiculous. Going by everything that was said this afternoon however, I have to say that I am more inclined to lean towards the former than the latter. It seems more realistic, and if people weren't as corrupt as they are today (like AIG executives, GM executives, etc), it has the possibility of succeeding to an extent.

Also, in case anybody has any misconceptions about this, yes, I really enjoyed the book "the Fountainhead." I also liked what I read of "Atlas Shrugged." (I'm on page 500 or so; it got a bit preachy in the middle) No, I do not support objectivism, "the virtue of selfishness," or "going Galt." I'm probably not going to round up a bunch of geniuses and move away to an island to watch society crumble without us. I just liked the book, okay? She's got some great (if a bit flat) characters going there. They're interesting to read about.

As the teacher says in "The Perks of Being a Wallflower": "Read it like a sieve, not a sponge."

So Mykle and I leave for the temple after checking to make sure we have everything. We get two blocks away and I shriek "WAIT! I forgot my engagement ring!" So we turn around and get it. Phew. No problem. We're still early, and we've made sure that we didn't forget anything.

... Except my temple dress, Mykle's glasses, and our camera. Whoops.

Despite all the mishaps, (like the temple workers ditching us and completely forgetting an essential part of the ceremony- don't worry, we got that straightened out; it only put everyone about a half hour behind schedule) things went fairly smoothly. Only a few things bothered me:

1) Mykle's aunt [and uncle] chewing GUM during the ceremony, and then afterwards her coming up to us and saying in an off-handed voice, "You said you would do it, and you did! Good job!" ... Like our marriage wasn't worth anything until this day. Like my process of being worthy enough to go through the temple is even her business, and she has a right to make comments about it. Like she's trying to remind us that today isn't nearly as meaningful as it would have been if we had waited to get married.

Yeah, call me crazy, but I ALWAYS saw the day we got married (at Mary and Dan's house) as the beginning of eternity. Today was never the START of something beautiful and wonderful, merely the confirmation that it would never end. So, thanks a lot, Sue, for downplaying that.

2) The temple sealer saying, "I now pronounce you, Mykle Scott Law, and SUSAN Ellen Vasicek..." Yeah, thanks. Thanks a LOT. That REALLY did not feel good. In fact, that really pissed me off. Thank you for ruining what could have been a special moment.

3) No one got a picture of Dr. Berrett? Uh, though I wouldn't say he was the most IMPORTANT guest there, he WAS the guest I was most thrilled to see. I know he ran out really quickly, but seriously, people. Have some foresight.

4) Dot being gracious enough to stop by the supper for half a minute in a wife beater and immodest workout shorts to include herself in a picture or two and give me the most sincere hug I received today. Thanks, Dot. Thanks a lot. That was very big of you. Not only did you make mom's 50th birthday dinner perfect for her, but you were also nice enough to make my happiness complete on my special first anniversary/sealing day. You're the best sister/daughter ever.

Note: Right now, I am very upset. It has been a long day. Despite all the things that went wrong today, there were MANY more things that went right, and I REALLY appreciate all the people who worked so hard to make my day so wonderful. Mom, Pop, other Mom and Dad, Kate and Danny (thank you for seating us next to them, by the way, mom!), Mary and Dan, Grandma and Grandpa Stephenson, Grandpa Merryweather, Eric, Ben, Greg and Esther and Esther's family, Joe, Dr. B, Keaton, Conner, and all the others who contributed to make it such a good experience. Thank you. I PROMISE that I will write a long blog entry tomorrow about all the things that went right and how wonderful it turned out.

But what is a blog for if you can't vent when you're upset, right?

When I got home today, I slowly and silently crept inside and tip-toed downstairs as quietly as possible. I didn't turn on the TV, radio, or microwave, and I didn't use any running water, lest the sound of the pipes give me away. About an hour later, Mykle's grandpa called down the stairs, saying "Mykle? Mykle?" He paused. Then came the inevitable "SARAH?? Saaaaaraaahhhh???" I kept very still and waited. After half a minute, he gave up and walked off.

I successfully avoided detection from Mykle's grandpa for five hours this afternoon, and I do NOT regret it.

Of course, if I heard a thump indicating that he had fallen down, I would have gone upstairs to help. But Myke's grandpa seems to think that if I am home, I should be running stupid, pointless errands for him, most of which he is perfectly capable of doing himself! Like tying his bathrobe: I've seen him do it a million times. But when I'm home, what happens? "Sarah, I need your help!" And putting his food in the microwave because "I can't reach"? Oh come ON, if that were true you wouldn't be able to eat when Myke and I are gone, and I can see by your dishes and your paunch that you are well-fed.

I have done my time. I cleaned up his "little mess" in the bathroom (he shat his pants, put his garment bottoms IN the toilet with his crap, wiped his hands on the CARPET, and then put his shat-on pants back ON!!! I highly advise all readers of this to avoid any/all physical contact with this man), and THEN, at his REQUEST, I had to REACH INTO HIS PANTS AND UNFOLD HIS DIAPER. Dude, that is NOT okay with me. Final straw. This camel's back is broken. I am not your nurse, and I am not your maid. I will help make sure you don't fall down, and I will empty your trash can now and then, but I WILL NOT clean up your crap. I have now seen him naked, what...five times?

NEVER AGAIN. I QUIT. And if anyone thinks I am being mean, I will tell you where you can put your opinion.

Before:







After:






Wow! what a difference a good pair of glasses can make! Don't you agree?

...was an ordeal, let me tell you.

We shot it all this afternoon. From the beginning it became apparent that Erika and myself were probably the only ones who would be capable of actually speaking french. So it was decided to record it in english and then dub it afterwards. (I'm pretty sure we'll lose points for that, but whatever, I'm already getting a 103% in the class)

This ended up being a lot harder than it should have been. Not only could no one remember the lines in french, but they also couldn't remember them in english either. A few people hadn't read the script more than once, and the others just aren't so good with memorization I guess. We also had big problems with spontaneous laughter, lighting, and the fact that Shara arrived late and couldn't stay long. (??? What is UP with that?? She skips class half the time, hardly EVER does the homework, and can't speak french to save her life. Why is she even TAKING this class if she's so determined to fail it?? Whatever. I don't really care, except when it affects me, like today when she left early. And how she hasn't contributed anything to this project.)

Of course, after we finished filming (I swear, we had to do every shot at least three times) We had to record everyone saying their lines in french. I don't think the others are going to realize that their voices sound monotone until they see the actual movie. Their faces will be smiling exuberantly as they speak like an automated recording. Or worse, when they end every sentence sounding like a question? Yeah, not so great. But whatever. This movie isn't that big of a deal to me. I'm just perfectionistic and wish I could be working with my classmates in high school, some of whom either knew how to speak french, or cared about their grade enough to try and learn.

Once we finished that, I realized that I didn't bring the cord with me, so I couldn't give Lee the camera and have him put the movie together over the weekend. Great. I'll probably end up doing it myself. This is JUST like elementary school, middle school and high school. I am ALWAYS the one who ends up doing all the work. Like that one time when we had to make a fake Israeli newspaper; I wrote three quarters of the articles, and I had two or three other partners! (by the way, the name of our newspaper was "The Daily Israeli"- catchy, neh?) That is why I HATE group projects, especially group MOVIES. Teachers think they're being all cool and fun by assigning us to make a movie, but that is totally not even true. Take it from me: ALL STUDENTS HATE MOVIE PROJECTS, especially when you can't even pick your own group members! If I could pick, I would have chosen Lee and Jen (both in my group), and Zach (not in my group, but really dedicated to the class) and Liz (same). But I did not get the worst partners in the class, so that's good. Apparently, Keisha doesn't even show up, and the other Keisha's accent is worse than my brother speaking franglais.

Do not ask me why there are two Keisha's in one class. Personally, I had no idea it was such a popular name. But they pronounce it differently. The first one should have an umlaut.

On the plus side, our script is really good (thank you, me), and our teacher will laugh when he reads it. I wish I could say he would laugh when he sees our movie, but I think most people in the class will be too confused to find it funny.

By the way, if you read the script, you should know that two of the lines I say are quotes from a movie and a book: "Her hair is so big because it's full of secrets" is from "Mean Girls," and "I have flies in my eyes" is from "Catch 22." (I highly recommend this book to all my non-Mormon friends/anyone who has a good mental filter and can ignore the fact that all the girls in the book are whores. Other than that, it is easily one of the funniest books I have read in my entire life.

I hope my toe gets better. I'd take a picture, but I don't think anyone wants to see that. If you REALLY want to see, send me an email and I will laugh at you and send you to a naughty website.

just kidding... or am I?

Here's the french script I wrote for our group movie project. Keep in mind that I am in a beginner class (SOOOO easy...) and that the english part probably sounds totally corny.

I wrote it in english and then inserted the french translations. No accents or anything, courtesy of livejournal.com. Oh, and if I got any of the french wrong, it's probably just a typo...



Lee’s Family Reunion: A Play in French

Characters:

Jen: Brigitte. Cheerful, naive, quirky hostess who loves having people at her house.
Shara: Gigi. Gossipy rich snob who thinks she is better than everyone else.
Sarah: Katrine. Edgy kid with sunglasses. Says cryptic things when spoken to.
Erica: Soleil. A complete stranger wearing a ski mask pretending to be a distant aunt who is allergic to the sun, and who is only there to steal things. Not very concerned about hiding her theft from the others.
Lee: Himself.


Scene I

The scene opens with Brigitte looking eagerly through the blinds, waiting for her guests to arrive.

B: [Talking to herself] I’m so happy! I haven’t seen the rest of the family for so long! What time is it? [Checks her watch] Are they late? I told them to turn left at the big intersection. Maybe...

Je suis tres heureuse! Je n’ai pas voire toute la famille pour longtemps! Quelle heure est-il? Est-ce qu’ils sont en retard? Je les ai dit de tournez a gauche au grand carrefour. Peut-etre...

[Doorbell rings]

B: Oh! [Opens door] Welcome, Gigi! How are you?

Oh! Bienvenue, Gigi! Comment-allez vous?

G: I’m doing well, thank you. And how are you Brigitte?

Je vais bien, merci. Comment allez-vous, Brigitte?

B: I’m fine, thank you!

Ca va ca va, merci!

G: [Looks around the room in a nosy way] What an...interesting house you have. So... [Trails off, looking for the right word]

Votre maison est tres...interessant. Tres...

B: Modern?

Chic?

G: [Snickers] Well, that wasn’t exactly the word I was looking for...

Ehn, ce n’est pas le mot que je desire...

[Doorbell rings]

B: [Runs to get the door] Welcome, Lee!

Bienvenue, Lee!

L: Hi. [Looking at Gigi] Hi, Aunt Gigi.

Salut. Salut, Tante Gigi.

G: Hello...what was your name again?

Bonjour...comment vous appellez-vous, encore?

L: ...Uh...Lee?

Uh... Lee?

G: Oh yes. Lee. [Insultingly] The democrat.

Ah oui. Lee. Le democrate.

L: Huh?

Ehn?

B: Lee, can you get the door? I need to finish making dinner.

Lee, est-ce que tu peux regarder la porte? J’ai besoin de finir faire la cuisine.

L: Sure.

Oui.

[Brigitte leaves for the kitchen]

[Doorbell rings]

L: Hello, Katrine. We’re cousins, right?

Bonjour, Katrine. Tu est ma cousine, n’est-ce pas?

K: [Long pause and flat expression] The family is a promise that is never kept.

La famille est une promesse manquee.

G: Hello, Katrine! You look so...happy today!

Bonjour, Katrine! Votre visage est tres...heureuse aujourd’hui!

K: [Long pause and flat expression] Is it hard to hear through your hypocrisy?

Est-ce qu’il est difficile d’entendre aves vos oreilles hypocrites?

[Doorbell rings]

L: [Confused. Has never seen this person before.] Hi... Who are you again?

Salut...Qui est-ce?

S: Silly boy, you know me! It’s Aunt Soleil! My favorite nephew! How are you... [Obviously cannot remember Lee’s name] ...boy?

Petit garcon, c’est moi! Je suis sa tante Soleil! Oh, mon neveu prefere! Comment vas-tu...garcon?

L: I’m fine. [Moves to help take off Soleil’s enormous, bulky coat]

Ca va bien.

S: NO! No no no... [Laughs] I’m cold, boy. The weather is absolutely freezing outside!

NON! Non non non... J’ai froid, garcon. Il fait froid aujourd’hui!

L: [Gives her a weird look] It was warm and sunny a few minutes ago.

Il a fait du soleil il y a un moment.

K: Maybe it’s snowing in her nonexistent heart.

Peut-etre il neige dans son coeur inexistant.

G: It’s so dark in here. I’m going to open a window.

Je ne peux pas voire dans cette chambre. Je vais ouvrir la fenetre.

S: NO! Gigi, didn’t you know that I’m allergic to the sun?

NON! Gigi, tu ne sais pas que je suis allergique au soleil?

L: [To Katrine] She’s allergic to herself?

Elle est allergique a elle-meme?

S: Aren’t we all?

Comme tout le monde.

[Brigitte enters]

B: Dinner time, everyone! Let’s go eat!

Diner! On sert le repas! Allons-y pour manger!

[Gigi sniffs in disdain and follows Brigitte into the dining room. Katrine follows silently. Soleil has been eying a knick-knack on the mantle. She casually slips it into her coat without bothering to conceal it from Lee, and then follows the others to the dining room. Lee’s eyes widen in shock and his mouth gapes open]

L: Wha-?

Quoi?

B: [From the other room] Come on, Lee! We’re eating!

Vennez-ici, Lee! Nous mangeons!

[Lee blinks and quickly exits into the dining room.]

Scene II

All the guests are seated around the table. The order goes: Brigitte (at the head), Lee, Soleil, Katrine, Gigi. Everyone is eating except for Katrine and Gigi, who takes one bite, chokes, makes a disgusted face, and pushes her plate away. There is no plate in front of Katrine. Brigitte enters and approaches her.

B: Don’t worry! I didn’t forget you, Katrine! I have your special favorite! [Gives Katrine a candy cane and sits down]

Ne t’inquietes pas, Katrine! Je n’ai pas oublie! J’ai ton repas prefere!

K: Now I can die a happy woman.

Et maintenant, je peux mourir une femme heureuse.

B: So Lee, how is school for you? Aren’t you taking a French class?

Lee, tu vas a l’universite. Comment ca va? Est-ce que tu apprends le francais?

L: Yes, my teacher’s name is Jeramy Keetch. He-

Oui, mon professeur s’appelle Jeramy Keetch. Il est-

S: [Interrupting and holding up her fork after taking a bite off it] Are these real silver?

Est-ce que ces forchettes sont formees d’argent veritable?

B: Oh, yes. They’re a family heirloom.

Oh, biensure. Elles sont des objets de famille.

S: [Raises her eyebrows and immediately sticks her fork under her hat. Turns to Katrine] Hey, can I have your fork? Thanks. [Takes Katrine’s fork without waiting for an answer]

He, est-ce que je peux avoir ta forchette? Merci.

G: [In a whisper to Katrine] I don’t trust this “Soleil” person at all. Do you think she’s a little weird?

La femme qui s’appelle “Soleil” est tres bizarre, n’est-ce pas?

K: Her hair is so big because it’s full of secrets. [Gigi makes a weird face and withdraws]

Sa coiffure est tres grande parce qu’elle est plein des secrets.

S: [Standing up] Hey, I have to use the bathroom. Where’s your television?

J’ai besoin d’aller a la salle de bains. Ou est la television?

Lee: What??

Quoi??

B: [Smiles welcomingly] It’s to the right, in the living room.

Elle est a droite, dans le salon.

S: Thanks. [Exits. Lee stares after her in disbelief.]

Bien.

B: So, Lee, what were you saying about your French teacher?

Alors, Lee, qu’est-ce que tu as dit de ton professeur?

L: [Blinks and turns to Brigitte] What? Oh yeah, French. Well, my teacher’s name is Jeramy Keetch, and he likes sports a lot. There’s also this girl in my class named Jen Draper. She has blond hair and is completely crazy. She-

Quoi? Oh, oui, le francais. Mon professeur s’appelle Jeramy Keetch, et il aime faire du sport. Il y a aussi une fille dans la classe qui s’appelle Jen Draper. Elle a les cheveux blonds, et elle est completement folle. Elle-

[Lee looks out the window and sees Soleil walk across the lawn, carrying a television to load into her car.]

L: Oh my gosh!

Sacre bleu!

B: I know! This “Jen Draper” sounds delightful! What a nice girl!

Je comprends! Cette fille, “Jen Draper,” il semble qu’elle est tres aimable! Quelle belle fille!

G: Blond hair? How boring.

Les cheveux blonds? C’est ennuyeux.

L: [To Katrine] Did you see that??

Est-ce que tu l’a vu?

K: My eyes have flies in them.

J’ai les mouches dans mes yeux.

L: What?

Ehn?

[Soleil walks by the window again, this time carrying a large piece of furniture. Lee pokes Brigitte and points her out. Brigitte peers out the window and Soleil looks up. Brigitte smiles and waves. Soleil smiles and waves back.]

B: I simply adore family reunions! It’s a great way to meet new people!

J’adore les reunions de famille! C’est une bonne occasion pour faire des nouvelles connaissances!

L: But...but-

Mais...mais-

[Soleil reappears.]

S: Hey, lady, I’m going now. Bye!

He, Madam, Je partis maintenant. Au revoir!

B: Oh wait! Let me get some dessert for you to take with you! [Gets up and goes off to the kitchen]

Oh, attendez-vous! J’ai un dessert pour vous!

S: [To Gigi] Hey, you, can I use your cell phone for a second? [Gigi hands it to her. Soleil puts it in her pocket. Brigitte enters with desert in a tupperware container and gives it to Soleil.]

He, toi, est-ce que je peux avoir ton telephone portable pour une moment?

B: Here you go! Thanks so much for coming...what was your name again?

Voila! Merci beaucoup d’etre venu...comment vous appellez-vous encore?

S: [Thinks to herself for a minute] Uh... [Snaps her fingers] Soleil! Yeah, yeah. That’s my name. Soleil.

Ehn...Soleil! Ouais, ouais. C’est mon nom. Soleil.

B: Goodbye, Soleil!

Au revoir, Soleil!

S: Bye... [Squints her eyes, trying to remember Brigitte’s name] Ummm...

Au revoir...uhhh...

B: Brigitte.

Brigitte.

S: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Brigitte. See ya. [Turns to Lee] Nice to meet you, Leland.

Oh, ouais ouais ouais. Brigitte. Salut. Enchante, Leland.

[Soleil exits]

G: What a strange person. There’s something about her that seems a little odd... [Shrugs] Oh, well. I don’t know. Families are always crazy, right?

Elle est une personne tres etrange, tres...bizarre. Eh bien! Je ne sais pas. La famille est toujours un peu folle, n’est-ce pas?

K: My mother was a vampire.

Ma mere etais une vampire.

L: My name isn’t Leland!

Je ne m’appelle pas Leland!





END

Fin

I only have a few. And I know that some of these were necessary in order for me to be who/where I am now. But still...

1.) Going to work at Wilderness Quest before I was ready and subsequently crashing a truck and getting fired (not for crashing the truck- for something else)

2.) Going to that party right after the temple trip when I was living in Long Beach

3.) Putting those pictures on my laptop that one time

4.) Not going to prom with Sam Kurtis

Of course, if I had gone to prom with Sam, that would mean I didn't relapse, which means I'd never have gone to WQ or CFC again or CA, which means I probably wouldn't have dropped out of BYU to go to UVU since I wouldn't have been arrested on campus and put on honor code probation, which means I would probably never have met Mykle and gotten married to him. And I would never want to give any of that up (yes, even the arrests), so obviously it was better that I missed my prom.


...but STILL!! I was SO looking forward to that! I would probably have had to ask him myself, and maybe even pay my own way, but it would have been SO worth it. Dang it!

As if I needed another reason not to go into geriatrics.



Mykle: "I have a LOT of homework tonight?"

Endyn: "Where's Connie when you need her?"




...Grandpa's doing a little better. Wish I could say the same for me.

Well, Mykle and I had about the scariest institute lesson I've ever sat through last Friday. The topic: Multiply and Replenish the Earth. Subtitle: Parturition or Conflagration. He gave us a packet containing such quotes as:

"Young married couples who postpone parenthood until their degrees are attained might be shocked if their expressed preference were labeled idolatry," and

"It is the duty of every righteous man and woman to prepare tabernacles for all the spirits they can," and

"We believe that those who practice birth control will reap disappointment by and by," and

"I know of no scriptures where an authorization is given to young wives to withhold their families and go to work to put their husbands through school."

Hmmm. Of course, Spencer W. Kimball bothers me, because over and over again he keeps referring to the fact that women are working to put their husbands through school. Like, did it ever cross your mind that the woman might be going to school too? It's like that's not even a possibility in his mind, or something. And then he says that The Way to do it is to not use birth control EVER and just let whatever happens happen, naturally. Well, I think that is kind of a dumb idea. Specifically in my case, of course, where I'm recovering from an eating disorder, but in several other cases as well. I always thought the Lord says not to run faster than you have strength. If I'm having kids every two years until I turn forty-five, that could not be a good thing. That's like thirteen kids. I'd rather raise three kids and be attentive to them than do a halfway job with thirteen.

So anyway, after school Mykle and I had a long talk. I was really surprised by the lesson, because it had never occurred to me that the choice of how many kids I have is up to anyone but ME, (and maybe Mykle) and I wasn't sure what to do. Mykle kept trying to tell me to calm down, and that we didn't have to have kids for awhile, but I kept saying "that's not what the prophet said! We're not supposed to wait until after we finish school!"

Finally, after I reflected on it by myself for awhile, I came to the conclusion that I am far too immature to have children just yet. Kids annoy the crap out of me. This is a recent development that came about when I was attending the married student ward where every couple seemed to have a little baby, and they were so very enamored with their offspring that they refused to take them to nursery and likewise would not leave the room when they started crying. So Relief Society, an organization I have NEVER been fond of, turned into a screamfest half the time. During the time when the babies weren't crying, every single person within a six foot radius of the baby would be cooing and making faces at it. I found it distracting (to use a nice word) and disgusting (not quite so nice), and preferred to sit in the lobby until Mykle was done with Priesthood.

I am curious if Kate's baby will be a little terror as well, or if I will be so proud to be an aunt that I will be able to overlook that.

I decided I probably shouldn't have any kids until I spend some real quality time with one, and feel comfortable doing so. If Kate allows me to babysit after she reads this (IF she does, which she probably won't), then I will give it a shot. For now, I am pretty darn content living with Mykle and going to school. Plus, if I had kids, I would need to learn how to cook. Right now, I can count the things I know how to cook on one hand: rice, pesto noodles, instant mashed potatoes, and pancakes. Personally, I could probably eat the same thing everyday and never get sick of it. (exception: Costco muffins) Mykle is used to a little more variety than that, since he had lived at home practically his whole life minus his mission and a month in Vegas selling pest control. And his parents both cook very well. I sure wish I had learned a little more about homemaking before I got shipped off to treatment, because I don't like it when Mykle cooks. The food he makes is fine, but the mess he makes is not.

If only I knew how to use my crock pot...

Also, I do believe that one of the first things children learn how to eat after they're done nursing is mushed up bananas. The mental picture I get of mushed up banana flying everywhere is a hundred times more repulsive to me than that of getting sprayed when changing a baby boy's diaper. Either I need to get over my aversion to fruit (unlikely- if it's lasted this long, it's probably not going anywhere) or else my children will be deprived of the whole fruit experience (fine with me). Biggest fear of getting pregnant: not losing the weight afterwards. Second biggest fear of getting pregnant: having my tastes change so much that I will actually crave fruit. (shudder)

Mykle and I are reading the Worthing Chronicle. I still say Ender's Game is better.