Just real quick here

I got through all my classes today. Yay!

I only have a few hours to finish getting ready before I leave for the airport and Utah and several aunts I haven't seen in years (one never, lookin at you Tat) and my bestie who I haven't seen in two years and I get to get off this island which I haven't done in a year.

So I'm really good at keeping track of time. Apparently.

If you want updates, go and follow me on Twitter and Instagram and Facebook (Twitter would probably honestly be the best) and I'll try and tell you all the wonderful stories I'm sure I'll have once I get back. I might even give you a post while I'm in Utah with Brit just for the fun of it, but we'll see how that goes.

I luff you all, thanks so much for going on this Blogging Every Day in April with me. It's been fun.

Stay fabulous.

Almost a wrap-up

It's almost the end of April. Actually, tomorrow is the last day of April. That being said, I want to wrap up the BEDA posts today, mostly because tomorrow will be very very crazy, between getting to my classes in the morning to finishing up packing (starting packing?) that afternoon so I can get on a plane that evening and fly to the mainland overnight and get there tomorrow morning.

So I wanted to wrap this up. This has been quite an experience for me, now that I sit back and take some time to think about it. A lot has happened this month of blogging every day, and I've learned a lot.

One thing I've learned, and I shouldn't be surprised, but I am, is that I actually had enough content to make a blog post every single day. I mean, it wasn't necessarily the best/most polished blog post, but it was a blog post. Every day. With really the only overlap in topics being that I apparently talked about the weather a lot. But you know what else? I had more to write. I made a little bitty list of things I wanted to write, you know, posts that would require a little forethought before sitting down and typing them up. I'll write those up sometime in the near future, but yeah. But it was my life, the little everyday things and stories that make up a part of humanity, that mostly drove the blog posts here.

I learned that not every single post I write has to be carefully thought out and planned and polished and perfect. Especially when I have to write a blog post every single day, there's just no way I can. I'm a busy person. I actually do have a life of sorts.

I saw, and was surprised (again, something that shouldn't have surprised me) that as I got more consistent in my posting and produced content every single day, that my readership grew. Not a lot. I wouldn't even call it growth, necessarily. I still got maybe the same average views per post, but with more posts, and consistent posting, that started adding up. And my average reads per post started growing, just a little bit as well. A lesson I should do well to remember: people will come with content. I need to remember to keep creating things.

I learned that I write well with a schedule. I used to think that I don't really do well with deadlines, especially when it come to writing things creatively. Just because that's something I tend to squeeze in the cracks of my life, in between classes and work and homework and friends and sometimes sleep. But I also know if I want something enough, I will stop at almost nothing to get what I want. If that means making a little more time to push out a blog post during the day, or just figuring out how to plan my time so that I can achieve that, I will. If I want it enough, I will get it.

That being said, I want to come up with a schedule for this blog. It will certainly maintain flexibility, depending on life and things and such, but I'll certainly stick to it as best I can. This is something you guys, my wonderful readers, can help me with. How much do you want to hear from me? Twice, three times, a week? Every day? Every day except weekends? (Okay, I'm gonna go ahead and say I will be taking Sunday off from posting, just because I do want to have at least one day a week to not deal with that. Possibly Saturday as well, but we'll see how that goes). And also, just because I might be posting things during the week doesn't mean that I won't occasionally post something on the weekend. That's what the flexibility is for. I want to write often, but not every single day.

I learned how much this blog means to me. How much you guys mean to me, my readers. My wonderful readers. I know my blog is sometimes ridiculous and silly and fun but then it also sometimes gets serious or I get angry but you guys just take that in stride and read it anyway. I've received nothing but positive feedback from this. (And, well, I mean, the occasional worried questions from my mother, but that's nothing out of the ordinary.) This blog, what I want to do with it, is represent my life, and tell my story. Part of my story is how I feel about things, it's about things that I do or things that happen to me or poems that I write or things that I've created that I want to share. This blog is me, putting myself, my hopes and dreams and things out there for you all to look at and read and judge.

How I haven't received flack for that yet is somewhat beyond me. I guess there is a good thing to the nonexistent comment base I have. But I really don't mind if you guys comment on my posts, you guys. I would love it a lot if you guys shared my posts, for your friends and family to read. Don't think you have to keep it secret or hidden away. I don't mind. Really. Introduce yourself to me. Tell me your stories. I want to hear them. I want you to be involved. I want to meet your friends.

And then maybe some of you want to get to know me outside of this blog. Well, lucky you, I exist on various social networking sites.
You can look me up on Facebook, and there's a little button on my profile that says "follow". You click on that, and you'll see those updates I'm posting to the public. Just look for Carina Aldrich.
I also have a Twitter, and you can follow that, my handle is @carinahhh_ Again, hit that follow button.
And to go with that, I also have an Instagram, and sometimes I even post pictures on it. That handle is @carinahhhh

Why all the H's? That's a story for another time, children. But for now, I think that's enough of wrapping up and shameless self-advertising. I hope to see some of you soon.

Luff you all.

Fangirl

So, it has recently come to my attention that there is a need for me to make this post. So I spent the last few days preparing it. That being said, there is far too much for me to understand on my own, much less explain to you guys.

But this is how it started. I was texting my friend's boyfriend, and we were playing around. He sent me something that got me really excited and I texted him back something like "asdfjkl; AAAAHHHH YES WHAT I CAN'T EVEN" and then he just got really confused and didn't understand me. It was then I realized that I actually do have regular interactions with people who don't speak Internet and Fangirl with nearly as much as I and my normal friends do. (hehehehe normal friends. what are those again?)

So this post is for me to explain what it is like being a fangirl, and hopefully you will come away with a better understanding of most of the population of the Internet. If nothing else, you will recognize when your friends are being fangirls, and be able to react appropriately.

But first, let me show you what it's like to be a fangirl. (credit to whoever created these, I didn't make them):

This is our life. I mean, not totally, cuz we still have to function in normal society, but THIS IS OUR LIFE. And it applies to all fandoms, whether it be Potterheads or Whovians or Directioners or Sherlockians or Seahorses or Danosaurs or Beliebers or Whedonites or any fandom, it doesn't matter. 

So, now you're all looking at me confused, and also slightly worried, because I'm coming off as slightly insane, which you should know by now is my normal state of being. 

I looked back at my life recently and I realized that I was never really a fangirl until about a year ago, when the Avengers came out. And then I died and started this journey and I've learned a lot, which you should all know as well. I'll start out by explaining some simple terms. 

Fandom: Like how kingdoms worked, only instead of being limited by geographical areas, fandoms are comprised of the fans of a certain person or thing. People who like Harry Potter are Potterheads, Whovians like Doctor Who, Directioners like One Direction, Seahorses like the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, you get my drift. Please note there is a difference between being a fan of something and being part of the fandom. It's slight, but it's there. 

Feels: feelings. Typically used when someone is overwhelmed with feelings (either good or bad) and they'll run around shouting OW MY FEELS or RIGHT IN THE FEELS which generally denotes an excess of feelings and emotions. When you encounter someone who is overwhelmed by feels, please step back and do not engage unless you are ready to deal with everything. They might possibly just be sitting curled in the fetal position sobbing, but the best thing to do is just agree with them and let them recover. 

Fanfiction: also shortened to fanfic or just fic, this is writing that fans do about their fandom. 

Ship/shipping: a verb used when someone wants two people to be in a relationSHIP. When you ship someone, you want them to be together. Also with shipping comes crazy ship names. If you really like Tony Stark and Pepper Potts being a thing, their ship name is Pepperony. (is that not the cutest ship name ever?) Basically comprised of smashing their names together, shippers tend to get very devoted and vocal about their couples getting/staying together. Note shipping is generally used for romantic relationships, but is also occasionally used for bromances, but only when denoted as such. 

And with shipping comes slash and femslash: slash is the pairing of two guys, and femslash is the pairing of two girls. I originally thought slash was just same gender pairs, but apparently there's a difference to be denoted. So if you hear about someone who was reading a slash fic, you know what you're in for. 

OTP: one true pairing. This is the ship above all ships, the Titanic of all your feelings, in both that it's your biggest ship and also that it usually crashes and dies because reasons. Never ever EVER insult a fangirl's OTP. Your throat will be in immediate danger of getting ripped out. 

Canon: This is when a ship is endorsed by the writers of the book/show/movie. It shows up and is a thing. Hinny (Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley) is canon in the books and movies. Also is Pepperony and Dizzie (Darcy and Lizzie). 

Noncanon: This is when your ship is not endorsed outright by the writers. Dramione (Draco and Hermione) is a good example of this. As is Clintasha (Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff). Noncanon ships either live in the hope that they will become canon (see Clintasha, there's plenty of opportunities for that to develop in more movies) or try to insist it was there the whole time (Wolfstar, I'm looking at you) or just roll with the fact that it's not canon and live with it. 

ASDFJKL; or alternatively asdfjkl;: This is when someone pretty much just spazzes on their keyboard, generally because feels. also see a;woiehgiu vbghu;ahitoe;najvnjw or AEORITHNWOB;JITEONABEJIO;NTABHINO; or zxdbytiowap. These are all pretty much the same thing. 

*flail: This is typed when either a fangirl is literally flailing her arms in real life or unable to do so but she/he really wants to. (I know I'm using mostly feminine pronouns for this, but fangirls can be both sexes). Sometimes accompanied by squealing. This is usually a good thing, but hyperexcitment yes. 

I can't even: This is short for I can't even handle my feelings, which is also sometimes shortened to I can't, and I've even seen just i being used, it's when the feels are too much you can't even spaz on a keyboard. 

Nyugh, ugh, and hnng: These are all inarticulate noises people make when feels. They're said how they're spelled, and yeah. 

Because reasons: usually said when telling why you did something relating to the fandom. Because reasons, and those reasons are usually feels. 

What even: same idea as I can't even, only you still can, you just what. Typically a more confused state than can't. 

All my feels: when all your feels have been engaged, and it's painful and wonderful and horrible and you just can't even. 

I am a dead thing: your feels have just up and murdered you. 

What is your face: usually said to a computer screen when looking at a picture of person/thing/ship you are fangirling over. 

Right in the feels: your feelings decided to punch you in the gut, usually with no warning. 

Literally sobbing: I don't think I need to explain that one. 

KEY CHANGE: this is something I think only I do, but I do fangirl over music, and there is nothing that gives me feels like a key change, so I usually die there and this is all I leave as an explanation for such. 

Fangasm: this is the internet we're talking about here. It's an explosion of nerdy joy/despair in the most innocent of terms. 

gifs: It stands for Graphics Interchange Format, and is basically pretty much pictures that do the same thing over and over again. Here's an example: http://24.media.tumblr.com/00ad20ba8a0cf88840f72d6496dd4ab7/tumblr_mlkrbvkrSr1rujt6qo1_r2_500.gif 

(LOOK AT LOUIS GIGGLING IT'S SO CUTE) 

Also, usually these things aren't in like proper capitalization and stuff, most it's in all caps or just no caps, but YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT IT MEANS WHEN SOMEONE TYPES IN ALL CAPS. 

So there you go. A bunch of stuff that fangirls say and do, so hopefully I won't have people asking me what a ship is anymore. 

Oh, but before I go, there are two rules that you and everyone must always remember when dealing with fandoms: 

Never judge a fan by their fandom(s). 

And never judge a fandom by their fans. 

In general, fandoms are close-knit communities on the internet where people make great friends and have a fun time with people with the same interests, and it's fun and international and as long as things don't get rabid, it's wonderful. 

I'm so glad I'm not in high school anymore

From Loki to the rest of Marvel to cannibalism to virgin sacrifice to the horrible lack of good sex education offered in most public schools.

That was the direction my conversation with some high school girls went last night. It was a good conversation.

But I've noticed a trend in my conversations with most kids that are still in high school.

And in it I mostly end up bemoaning the terrible state of public education in America.

Wait. Let's be real. Anytime education comes up in a conversation, I usually end up spending the rest of that conversation grousing the terrible state of public education in America.

This is just something I've been exposed to my entire life.

I grew up the daughter of a man who works in University libraries, under various different titles. My mother has always cared about and been involved in my education. I have always had the importance of a good education pounded into me. And there is nothing I really enjoy more than learning things and growing and becoming a better person through learning and sharing information and all the wonderful stuff.

But, as my dad has talked with other people in education, my elementary school principal, various teachers I've had, the topic turned always to education. It's what they were involved in, it was - is - their life. I, being my father's daughter, would sit there and listen to the grownups talk because that's a lot more exciting than playing in the corner with children usually several years younger than me. (Oldest kid problems)

So I have spent so much of my life listening to my father and other administrators and teachers talk. Probably about ten years actually understanding to a certain extent what they were saying. The gist of which tends to go somewhat like this:

There are so many problems with college students not understanding or being able to do simple things they should have learned in high school- okay, let's be real, probably middle school. Just life skills in general, they're not learning and it's not good and makes for a problem for university administrators and professors.

Oh, but the high school teachers would love to be able to teach them but they kinda have to teach to a stupid test and things and they can't teach how and what they think is necessary, but what is imposed upon them by people who think they know what kids need to know for life.

But, frankly, I just don't even know anymore. Our educational system has so many flaws it's not even funny, but there it is, being flawed, somehow putting out students who I'm surprised know how to function in society. I'm surprised I know how to function in society, sometimes.

Things I should probably have learned in school, but it wasn't in the curriculum:

The only reason I know how to make a resume is because I had a teacher in my sophomore year of high school who decided that even though it wasn't in the curriculum, she needed to teach us how to make a resume so we could function in society. Please note she did it because it was lacking in the curriculum. She was my American Literature teacher.

How to dress for a job interview? My mother. How to prep for a job interview in general: my mother. OKAY THE WHOLE PROCESS OF JOB APPLICATION I LEARNT FROM MY MOTHER.

Birth control and sex education in general: my mother/ my friends/ tv and the internet and various other media. school? only for vague anatomical drawings that no one could take seriously, much less see because the equipment in school was always on the verge of dying. Because funding schools isn't a thing. This one really gets on my nerves. Really. So many problems could be solved if people would just teach kids about sex and how it actually works and how to get birth control (you know what else would be nice? easy access to birth control) and what happens after and seriously why doesn't this get taught in school??????

How to cook and clean and do laundry and budget and set up a bank account and manage money: YEAH MY MOTHER AGAIN BECAUSE THESE ARE REALLY IMPORTANT LIFE SKILLS THAT YOU'D THINK EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE ACCESS TO, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE EVERYONE'S PARENTS AREN'T AS AWESOME AS MINE.

How to basically work a computer: my father. again, super important life skill, not taught in school.

I'm sure I have more, but I'm getting ranty and irritated and should probably stop now before I get more mad at society for not caring about education and how much it would solve so many problems if we just focused on teaching kids actual important things and life skills in school and not just that the opposite sex is icky and you shouldn't touch them. because they're totally going to listen to that anyway.

I am sunburnt.

So, you know how I spent several blog posts in the recent past complaining about the lack of sunshine and how much rain sucks and stuff?

Yeah not anymore apparently.

It was all lovely and sunshiney and beautiful yesterday. So I was laying outside on campus in the sunshine, enjoying it. For a couple hours.

Then I went to class and discovered that I had managed to sunburn myself. And it really hurts.

It's just one side of me. And it hurts.

I don't think I've said that enough.

I am in pain and it hurts.

But then hey it's sunshine and I love it. So not really? Yeah. It's great. I don't really mind. For now.

Nighttime Joy

The moon is beautiful.
The wind, soft and cool against my hot skin.
The clouds, lit by the moon, marbleize the sky like chocolate and vanilla marblezied in a cake.
I walk, breathing in the smell of the darkness.
It's sweet and intoxicating, begging me to stay and breathe more.
As I breathe, I smile, listening to sweet voices only I can hear.
I open my mouth and softly sing along, my voice blending with theirs in a beautiful medley no one will ever fully hear.
Soft at first, and sweet as honey, the notes fall from my lips, spurring another smile.
The music is in my veins, it drives me forward, it reminds me of a whole other dimension of beauty to be experienced.
Pure, ephemeral joy. I see it, feel it, smell it, hear it, and with each note leaving my throat I can taste it.
I keep walking, my notes sometimes failing because the need to breathe takes over.
I spy a person nearby and stop, cut off, biting my lip apologetically until they are out of sight.
Shy, a little scared, doubtful they will understand why I wing while I walk along.
Just like I question if they understan why I am sitting on this sidewalk, writing a poem hurriedly on my phone in the darkness.
When things are created, sometimes they are not things to be understood. Sometimes they are feelings to be shared and felt and expressed.
The moon really is beautiful.

So close....

I got a text from my bestie today. This is what it said:

ONLY ONE WEEK

All in caps, naturally. That's how we communicate best.

But then I started freaking out.

Because I remembered that in actually less than one week, I'll be in Utah. And I will be seeing my best friend who I haven't seen for two years, along with other various family members I haven't seen for longer. (In some cases, ever.)

BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE I WILL FINALLY GET TO SEE MY BRITFACE IN ONE WEEK AND I CAN'T WAIT.

It will be fabulous. I will probably start crying. She will probably start crying. My mother and aunts will just be standing there awkwardly watching us both break down in the airport and we sob into each other's arms.

We've been planning this for months, it seems almost unreal that we're going to finally do it. I'm going to actually see her again. I'm going to actually get off this island and see her and it will be the best. Those few days will be the best.

I'm soooo excited. I just really want this weekend to get over with so I can go and see her. Then time just needs to stop so I can spend it all with her. I wish that was how time worked. It totally works like that, right?

Ugh, just all my happy/excited feelings. I'm going to virtually hug all of you. Luff you all. *hugs*

I don't want to write a post today

I don't. I'm tired. I started summer semester (can we take a second and realize that students here only got a week break inbetween a very very long winter semester and dragging them back into summer semester? I don't feel like that's very nice.)

I mean, I'm super excited about my classes for this first summer session, and I'm looking forward to doing all that work.

But I also spent my day getting rained on. Which isn't exactly fun. Nor conducive to happiness.

I really don't mind rain that much.

Wow. I have posted about rain so much this month. I'm almost sorry about it.

But then I'm not because this endless rain is slowly eroding my love affair with rainstorms.

And I'm tired and don't want to come up with something to post today.

Plus yesterday kinda burnt me out.

And school.

Now I'm just repeating myself.

So hopefully tomorrow I'll be back with something fun and great and wonderful.

Or else you'll get something not so fun and great and wonderful and yeah.

I do luff you guys.

I am skinny.

I am not beautiful. 
I am 5 ft, 6 1/2 inches. 
My friends look at me, jealous of my slight 100 lbs. 
If only they knew how jealous I am of their glorious curved bodies. 
...
Almost but not quite debilitating. 
Nothing fits me right. 
With one hip higher than the other, and a chest so flat little girls laugh with superiority.
The most devastating moment is when my clothes are greeted not with soft skin and warm flesh but with empty air. 
How can one be beautiful when I don't even have the matter to fill my clothes?

I was cleaning my room this afternoon when I found this. I'd written it a few months ago, put it aside and intended to finish it. It's also missing a chunk in the middle (that is what I get for writing on scraps of paper and leaving them laying around).

I don't remember exactly what possessed me to write it. Perhaps I was tired of my friends saying how they are a healthy weight and there's nothing wrong with being bigger than a model. How most women actually aren't skinny sticks and it's healthy to have some weight.

Perhaps it was my mother telling me that they enacted a new law in Italy that in order to model, you have to be a over a certain BMI, to ensure that their models remain healthy and somewhat realistic. We checked my BMI, out of curiosity. I can't model in Italy, if I were to ever want to.

Perhaps it's the story I've heard several times, how one of my pediatricians when I was little told my parents that I needed to gain weight, and that they should just feel me straight up oil so I would get fat. Or something similar to that.

Perhaps it's the endless scores of people, who, when they meet me, feel the need to remark on how skinny I am. How I need to eat more. Oh, if only I would let them cook for me, and eat all their food, then I would be a healthy full girl in no time.

Perhaps it's the people who've known me for a little longer, who, when the subject comes up, worriedly ask me if I'm anorexic. Or however it is I manage to stay so skinny. They just want me to be healthy, after all.

Because I'm not healthy. I'm not realistic. Almost 5'7" and just slightly over 100 pounds, I get awe and glares and worry.

That hurts skinny girls just as much as those same worries about health and realism hurt fat girls.

I get it.

I'm skinny.

You know what else?

I also have scoliosis. That's what makes one of my hips higher than the other. My spine curves a full 30 degrees to the right. Try wearing clothes normally with that. Try standing up straight. Impossible.

I also wear glasses. I'm almost blind in one of my eyes.

I don't have cheekbones that stick out. It makes it really hard to be photogenic when there's no depth to your face.

I have acne problems. I don't really think I need to explain that more.

My legs are stupid, it's like I'm allergic to everything and they refuse to look normal.

My hair is virtually impossible to become sleek. Not even necessarily straight, but sleek. I can't do that.

I have scars all over my body. Legs, hands, back, arms...

I haven't a chest.

I can't maintain a tan to save my life.

And sometimes I just look in the mirror and I don't feel pretty. I feel horrible and ugly.

"But Carina, you're so skinny, how can you not feel beautiful?"

I will slap you.

But let me answer.

Perhaps because you've just spent a good portion of our conversation going on about how ridiculous skinny girls are and how unrealistic it is because no one in the real world actually is that skinny without doing something damaging to their health.

Perhaps because I hear every day how boys don't want a girl that looks like she could be a model, because "that's not real" or "I want a woman with a body".

If you're going to go on and on about how people with my body type aren't appealing, then top that with all my other flaws, and expect me to feel beautiful all the time, then you are an idiot.

I don't feel beautiful because despite people who do call me beautiful and wonderful, there's an overwhelming call for women of the median. Who aren't too big, but not super skinny either. Who have a chest they can wear inside their shirts and show off when the occasion demands it. Who are well-muscled and strong, but still feminine. The middle of every extreme.

I don't feel beautiful because I'm not real. I can't be real. I can't have gotten the body I have naturally, through no deliberate action of my own.

Am I not real? Is my body not flesh and blood and bone just like yours?

I haven't written that poem because I don't know how to finish it.

I can't.

How can a girl as skinny as I am ever have to gall to write about body image and how being skinny affects her view of herself?

How dare I think that skinny girls have the same body image problems as overweight girls?

How dare I not just take the fact that I am skinny and live with it silently, not showing it off, not being proud of it, because some girls just can't lose weight?

But what if I just can't gain weight? What if that's just as much a struggle for me as losing weight is for others?

Why must my words be bullied into silence because I am the opposite of you?

Why am I not allowed to have the same fears and worries and tears and insecurities you do with your own body?

I am bullied just as much as you. It's all the same, unconscious, insidious, hidden under the guise of good intentions. I know they don't mean it.

So close to perfect, yet if only I could change that one little bit, my body would be perfect, and everything would be perfect. So close. That's what I hear. That's what I think. Sometimes it's what I want.

That scares me.

I love my body. I really do. Flaws and everything. Days like today I wouldn't change anything for the world.

But the days when I would have written that poem... I don't. I feel ugly and pathetic and unwanted. I want to sit on my floor and cry because how could anyone want me, ugly and skinny and awkward with poofy hair and ugly skin.

I want to end this post with something happy. But I don't have anything. Writing this isn't going to get rid of my insecurities about my body. You guys commenting, telling me that my body is fine and you love me won't stop the strangers who judge me. Ignoring the strangers doesn't mean I can shut out the media, the fashion designers, everyone else.

But right now I am neither sad nor joyful in my body.

I am determined.

I am skinny.

Get over it.

Unless you are my doctor, my mother, my future husband, or very very very close friend, you are not allowed to judge my body. And of all those, none of them have the reason to judge my body unless they have a legitimate fear there is something medically wrong with me.

I am beautiful.

I am ugly.

My personal opinion varies with the wind, sometimes. So, you know what?

Don't try to force feed me. That will make me lose a great deal of respect for you. Encourage me to eat, yes, that's fine. Giving me unrealistic amounts to eat won't make me eat any more than I can physically eat at one time. So don't. Let me be a normal human.

That's just it, really. Let me be a normal human being. Let me live my life and be happy with myself and have my insecurities and don't you dare tell me I shouldn't because I have what others don't. If that argument even worked in the first place, no one here would dare complain about anything because you know what? We have running water. Other people don't.

So let me be normal and human and real and flawed and just love me for who I am. Please.

Sticky Notes on my Computer

So, I like writing things down in little places and keeping them where I can find them when I need to use them. Quotes, ideas, little things that I want to be able to see.

I have a lot of places I keep these things. I have my bulletin board in my room, which is where you'll find the actual paper scraps I have. Those are normally lists and scraps of papers filled with snippets of writing scenes from things that I may or may not eventually get to writing.

I have a whole file in my Dropbox that's just filled with quotes and inspirational ideas.

I also have little things on my iPhone and iPad just written in the little Notes app that it comes with.

But perhaps the biggest and most accessible place I keep these things is in little sticky notes on the dashboard on my computer. And there's quite a bit. It's almost slightly ridiculous.

Don't fear about not being able to read them. There's actually 18 of them (I just counted) and I'll put them on here. 

There are a variety of things on here, varying from inspirational to helpful to funny to political to things.  Most I put up to remind me about things as I write. Probably mostly all of them. Writing is a human experience, and these quotes encompass some of what I feel is important about being human. So here goes: 

~

"Complete freedom without appropriate restraint makes us a slave to our appetites." -Elder Glenn L. Pace

I want to love people the way Christ loves me. I want that pure love, I want people to feel that I feel that for them. -Me

When our emotions are highest, disagreements turn into argument. #writetip

"America is like a boy band... yes, that's the premise we're starting on." -Jon Stewart

"The ultimate source of empowerment and acceptance is our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ."

If the 2nd Amendment says we're allowed to own guns, the 1st says we're allowed to talk about them. 

"A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead." 

"Don't tell me the moon is shining, show me the glint of light on broken glass." -Anton Chekov

The things you do matter to people. 

"The interesting thing about taxes is that taxes are supposed to be voluntary. Tribute is forced. Tribute is someone holding a sword to your throat and saying, 'give it'." -James Tueller

Romance is bonding. 

"It's time to bask in our greatness. And by greatness I mean morally dubious dominance over people who would have been just fine without us." -John Green

"Consistency is the defense of a small mind." -Silk

"One gets over the loss of a wallet, or a watch. But a loved one... they never leave you. You don't get over, you can only get through." -Ziva David

Keeper of Secrets and Teller of Lies (vague plot and title idea)

"Be not afraid, only believe." 

"Of all the crimes we deal with, everyday, the ones most heinous involve children. They enrage our sensibilities." -Ducky Mallard

You shouldn't torture people because it's wrong, no matter your view of its efficacy. Consequentialism is a false approach to ethics. 

~

There you have it. Little pieces of me, little thoughts, all meaningful in one way or another. You get to see a little slice of me in there. 

Goodbye to McDonalds

Today was my last day working at Mcdonalds.

It was a long day. Most days I've spent working are long and hot and hard and difficult. Not that I minded. It's work, honest work, and I can't complain about that.

It was bittersweet. As glad as I am that I have a new job, I'm also sad to leave behind all the friends I've made during my almost two years at working at Mcdonalds. Not just my managers and coworkers, I've even developed friendships with some of the regular customers.

It's been loving. Everyone who's said goodbye has wished me the best in my new job and my school and everyone else. We all give really fantastic hugs.

Most people would be thrilled to be leaving Mcdonalds. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm really happy that I don't have to wake up at the crack of dawn or stay up super late and deal with the heat and stand for several hours and try to herd customers through the ordertaking process and getting them their food. I won't miss the days when the drive thru leaked, when the rain made life miserable, and when our airconditioning was broken. I won't miss obnoxious customers yelling in my ear, trying to tell me I'm wrong, or cutting me off rudely. I won't miss wearing that uniform, trying to keep my hair in order, and feeling like a gross mess after every shift. I won't miss freezing while trying to get things for the reach-in, or burning myself while making fries or coffee.

I'll miss Tai, walking in and taking charge when we're at our most busy and most confused. I'll miss how we'd all jump at hearing her voice and how her presence would spur us to be more productive.

I'll miss Shasha and Giovann, playing and joking in the back while still getting food out to us in good time. I'll miss how they set me at ease when I first started out, and helped me gain confidence as I went along.

I'll miss Sherrilyn and Jeff, being there all along. They taught me how to do what I now could possibly do with my eyes closed. They joked and played and were rocks that we could always rely on. I'll miss hearing their conversations with the others while they worked.

I'll miss Joy and Leela and Betty and Ramsey and Alyzza and all the other managers. I'll miss them stepping in right when I needed a helping hand, getting me food or ice cream or taking an order while I was making a drink. We had each other's backs, we did. I'll miss them asking me if it's okay if they can stick me by myself for a while, just until someone else comes in to help. That they have enough confidence and trust in me to know that I can handle.

I'll miss Paul and Sofia and Easta and Mela and everyone else in the back, I'll miss teasing them and the little conversations we'd have while waiting for food. I'll miss yelling 'thank you' to them whenever I get that last sandwich before I run the bag out to the drive thru.

I'll miss Esther, the polka dot to my afro circus. I'll miss the conversations and jokes and songs we broke into in that teeny tiny little box in the drive thru. You made my mornings bearable, getting up at what felt like the crack of dawn made a little brighter because you would always be happy and hyper, even when you didn't feel like it.

Sara and Jaycee, my other morning buddies. We always had each other's backs. Helping each other, easily switching into one another's jobs when necessary to get things done faster and better, we synced and we flowed together. You guys really are the best.

I'll miss Michelle. Order taking and doing cash, I feel like we never got to see each other for very long before one of us had to go, but we sure did work together great when we did. I loved hearing your stories and the way you talked to customers so easily, like you knew them. Which you mostly did, but that's just what comes from a long career and just living life out here. I love your sass, the little bit of fire in you that reminds us that yeah, the customer might sometimes be right, but the customer is also sometimes really, really, really, stupid. And wrong.

I'll miss Crystal and Alisha and Kelsie and Ashley and Desha and Routi and Ann and Wyatt and Tebe. All my nighttime buddies, we had our laughs and falls and accidents and incredibly awkward conversations and touching and happiness and drama and joy. I don't have words to describe how happy I would always be when I got to work with you. I love you all so much. All of us in most combinations just usually end up making fabulous power trios in the drive thru. I'll miss our singing and dancing and throwing food and joking and trying to act innocent when the managers told us off. I'll miss how we played but we got the job done well enough anyway. I'll miss our complaining and our countdowns and I'll miss our hugs and our smiles and everything else that just makes you all wonderful.

I'll miss the newbies, in all the forms that they came in, eager and ready to please and work and a little confused because work goes fast and it's hard to keep up when you don't know what you're doing. I'll miss their questions, having to guide them back and forth, teaching them, and smiling at them to make them feel a little more comfortable while I try and remember their name.

I'll miss all you people. I'd say I'll even miss our building, with the really dim lights in the back of the lobby, the waterfall that used to work but not even anymore, the leaking that seemed to be a constant in the back, and nicked walls and guardrails of the drive thru. But I would be lying if I said I missed that. I won't miss that. I will be so happy when we get a new building. It will be clean and shiny and wonderful.

But I will miss you, I will miss the old ice tea man, I'll miss the guy who came through for his senior coffee with two creams and one splenda, I'll miss that guy who always got his ice cream with his double filet and salad. I'll miss the sister missionary with her diet coke add lemon and sometimes a southwest salad. I'll miss the lady with the large nonfat mocha no whip fill it up with coffee, although she did start buying different things within the past few months or so. I'll miss these little constants.

I'm happy and excited to start my new job, and I'm sad to be leaving. But it's necessary for me to grow and continue with my life. But I can't leave silently, and I don't want to leave the impact you guys have had on me unacknowledged, I feel like that would be ungrateful of me. You guys have helped me to grow and become a better person. Hopefully a better person. :)

Aloha Mcdonalds, and mahalo nui loa for all you have given me. I do indeed luff you.

Dentists

Dentists tell you not to pick your teeth with any sharp, metal object. Then you sit in their chair, and the first thing they grab is an iron hook. (Bill Cosby)

I went to the dentist this morning. I hate it. I hate it so much. I can't... I really, really, really don't like going to the dentist. I don't like going to the orthodontist either. They're both... no.

I mean, it starts out innocently enough. I go, I wait, I sit in the chair.

Let's see what the damage is, shall we? (Wilbur Wonka, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory)

Bill Cosby's monologue goes through my head every time I head to the dentist/orthodontist. I swear, you'd think I'd have it memorized by now. I have the beginning down.

"We're just going to do a quick routine x-ray before we start your cleaning." (my hygienist this morning).

So, apparently, I have this phobia of having giant things stuck in my mouth. I first discovered this when I was several years younger and having to get my first x-rays for the dentist. They stuck that giant paper thing whatever it is in my mouth and I had to bite down so they could get a good picture. Yeah, that just didn't go well.

Probably because the first one they did was too big for me to properly close my mouth around, so after several more tries, they finally found one that was the right size for me to bite and do whatever it's supposed to do.

I'm clearly still scarred for life, and I just can't no nope it's not cool.

I mean, I still do it because I have to, but I hate every second of it. They put the thing in my mouth, and tell me to bite down, and I clench up and can barely breathe and I feel like I'm gagging but I'm not but I swear I will if this thing stays in my mouth any longer. How long does it take to do an x-ray? I try to breathe and calm down but I clench my jaw and bite harder and that makes the cardboard or whatever it's made out of cut into the roof of my mouth and the skin underneath my tongue (which I'm pretty sure is rather sensitive to things like that) and it just hurts worse and I'm panicking and trying not to panic and it's all over in the longest maybe 30 seconds of my life. Still have to restrain myself from vengefully biting the person's fingers off when they come to take it out.

But wait. Then we have to do the other side of my face. So I get to go through that all over again.

After that was over, she pulled out three metal hooks and started picking at my teeth, starting the cleaning process. I relaxed slightly, I mean, yeah, sharp metal in my mouth. What could go wrong?

I survived the cleaning. She was vaguely amusing and didn't ask me questions unless my mouth was actually available to answer them. So that was all good.

Then it was time to fluoridate (is that the proper terminology? Why am I caring now? It's not like I have for the entire earlierness of my post) my teeth.

Now, in all my earlier experiences with fluoride, the person would take a Q-tip thingy and dip it in the fluoride (which despite all their best efforts, always ends up tasting straight-up nasty) and then paint it on my teeth. Something would happen, I would end up fighting with the sucky thing for a good few minutes, then I couldn't eat for the next half hour while I wished I could so I could get the taste of nasty out of my mouth. Bam. Over.

Not so here, apparently. They have a mouthguard tray thingy. I saw that, and again, my phobia and panic hit me in the half second I had to react before she shoved it in my mouth. (There is nowhere I feel quite as powerless as the dentist/orthodontist's chair. Probably because my mouth has hands in it and I can't communicate.) So it was shoved in my mouth and that was really not okay. Really. Not at all. Blinding panic for several good seconds before I calm myself down and remind myself that breathing is a thing.

That thing has to stay in my mouth for a whole minute before she takes it out. I'd say I counted, but I was concentrating on not gagging and also breathing and not ripping it out of my mouth. But she was counting, so I could focus on that a little bit. Didn't help too much. Finally it got out, and I was ready to die, but I still had all the taste of nasty in my mouth, which I had to sit there and argue with the sucky thing and hope it helped.

This will suck up your face... Now you sit, grown-up, intelligent human being, arguing with this thing! (Bill Cosby)

But after that it was okay and I got out and I survived but it's good I only have to see the dentist every 6 months or so, barring outlying circumstances. Yeah.

Maybe one of these days I'll tell you the story of how my orthodontist set my mouth on fire. Or something. Still not sure what happened in there.

Oh look! A rainbow! (Bill Cosby) 

Ninja mosquitos

And lizard porn.

I'm tired okay?

My mom's in the background going "nope. nope nope nope. no lizard porn."

Well guess what mother you brought it up after dad brought up ninja mosquitos as a blog post topic so guess what I'm writing about.

Except not. Because I don't know anything about lizard porn.

Wait mom's gonna hijack this post

WA

 AH HA!   Mom here.  Hijacking has occurred..   Daughter  is tired and needs to go to bed.  I said I saw two lizards mating.. not porn..
not done..  lytefgtuywr78h7u7uiyg,hiniuhvug hm,ahYjsmk,8lv


WATCHING TWO LIZARDS MATING I'M PRETTY SURE IS NATURE'S PORN, MOTHER.

quit taking your computer back..  I didn't watch.  I noticed and then went to inform your dad that I had saw what I thought was 2 lizards mating.  But not positive and I didn't go back to check... so there.

Silly kid.

Night all.

OH ALSO BEFORE I FORGET RUSH GOT INDUCTED INTO THE ROCK AND ROLL HALL O\
4E4RHYH
and she has a slight obsession with rush, but it's nothing compared to one direction.

ANYWAY, RUSH GOT IN THE ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME AND THE WORLD STILL SPINS AND IS AMAZING. BUT SINCE MOM BROUGHT UP ONE DIRECTION

It's been 1000 days of One D FINE MOTHER I'LL GO BACK TO ALL CAPS IT'S BEEN 1000 DAYS OF ONE DIRECTION EXISTING AND APPROXIMATELY TWO MONTHS SINCE I STARTED LIKING THEM NOT JUST BECAUSE THEY'RE CUTE BUT ALSO I LIKE THEIR MUSIC. A

Yup.  Obsession.  Night all.

SHE KEEPS CUTTING ME OFF AFTER SHE SAYS SHE'S DONE NO MOM THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS VBGR HTBVEFCDVTX4YBVDFV4THN67YPM-0A21

MOTHER.

NO. yes

NO
yes

asNOU XCSSSSW NO TOUCHY

BAD LLAMA

VERY BAD LLAMA

GO TO BED.

right after you.  git.

she luffs you.

SOMEONE FINALLY NOTICED MY SIGNOFF YESSSSS

I LUFF YOU ALL

BUT I DO NEED SLEEP

LIEK DIS IF U CREY EVRY TIEM

no.  nite all

I hope it scars.

So, I'm a slightly weird child. If you haven't gathered that by now, I don't know what you've been smoking.

I was working last night in the drive thru. As per usual. We had run out of ice coffee, so I was brewing some more so we wouldn't run out. (logical)

While I was pouring the ice coffee into the dispenser, I managed to fantastically burn the inside of my arm with the very hot outside of the coffeepot.

Yeah, it hurt. Proud I didn't drop it (because removing my arm skin from hot metal would be the logical thing instead of finishing pouring out the coffee and then putting the pot down) and also proud I maintained the composure to take the order the person at the menu was giving me. (read: not cussing my head off so I could listen to them)

It really really hurt.

Okay, it didn't really hurt. It was distracting, but not debilitating. I've had worse burns at work. (read: scar on my other arm from french fry basket attacking me)

Anyway, talking to coworker in the drive thru, and she was like, well, it doesn't look too bad.

And I'm like, no, it doesn't. Darn. I hope it scars.

I want it to scar.

It seems somehow invalidating if I went through all that pain and trial of getting burnt in the first place, and I got through it, I don't get a scar.

I don't know why. Scars are cool. Scars tell stories. Scars and beautiful and wonderful and human. They say, yeah, I got hurt. Yeah, I went through this. But look. It's healed. There's just this little mark to remind me how strong I am.

I have lots of scars. Little things, on my hands, my arm, my legs, my back. I got them just through living my life and doing things and being klutzy and things. The big ones have stories. The little ones are just there. They're part of what makes me me.

So, yeah. Hot metal is dangerous. Pain sucks, but somehow I still don't mind having a minor burn. It'll get better. I might even get a scar. (fingers crossed)

Luff ya.

Bonus: Fun little fact: a few hours after I got off work last night, one of my friends invited me to come to a bonfire they were having. Which meant I spent a good couple hours sitting around a firepit, working very hard to keep our miserable little fire alive, right after getting my arm burnt on a coffeepot. I'm pretty much like inhaling smoke and putting my face really close to the fire to try and give it some oxygen (mine and others) and trying to get sticks to catch so they'll burn instead of smolder (involving my arm holding small sticks close to flames) and I just kinda thought it was almost an out of the frying pan into the fire experience. Almost literally. I just like fire.

Kids, don't play with fire. Disclaimer.

Okay, this is really the end. Luff ya'll.

The Sun is Shining!

You have no idea how thrilled I am that the sun is shining today.

I mean, yeah, I have to work this afternoon, and I'm sure it will be nice to go and do something productive with my life this week, but hey look the sun is shining.

And I'm so happy about that. I thought it was going to be dark and rainy all week and I would be miserable because this is the one week I have off between semesters and I wanted to do something fun with it and get some sunshine and now look there's sunshine!

I also realize that a lot of my posts recently have been about the weather, which is slightly awkward, because there is more to my life than the weather. There is also the internet. And drama. Oh the drama. Okay, not that much drama.

Anyway, I luff you all, and the sun is shining, and I have work this afternoon, and other things I have to finish up this morning, and hopefully the weather stays nice for the rest of this week so I can get outside and have fun and things. And for everyone with snow and sleet and stuff like that... I apologize. You should have moved to Hawaii.

Luff ya.

I don't really have anything to say.

The thing about living in Hawaii is that when disasters happen on the East Coast, that means I usually get to wake up and check my twitter feed and get all the news (or lack thereof, because no one knows anything immediately in the wake of disaster) while I'm eating breakfast and getting ready for my day.

And then I feel terrible for the rest of the day because I mean terrorist attacks aren't exactly conducive to being super happy, and also I'm all the way in Hawaii and there's really pretty much nothing I can do.

And then the rest of the day is interesting. People will be posting things on Twitter, get yelled at because they haven't paid their due diligence to the disaster that's going on and then have to apologize and make their obligatory politically correct tweet.

I'll usually go on a walk and listen to music because that helps me feel a little better, even when the walk involves me getting soaking wet in the rain.

I don't really know. I'm really sad. Not really sad. More melancholy. Disappointed. Can't bring myself to post something super funny or whatever.

People are terrible. People are also awesome and amazing and fabulous and humanity has its flaws but if there's anything, it's that we all tend to come together and show just how good we are when disaster strikes those we care about. And it's amazing just how many people we care about that we don't actually know.

I luff you all.

Rain.

You'd think, with the wonderfully beautiful weather we had during finals week, that once finals were over the weather would cooperate and I wouldn't have to deal with this rain.

But no. It's raining. It was raining yesterday and it has been raining off and on today, and it's not helping my mood to be better.

Rain makes me want to do two things: go on a walk/curl up in a small ball and read. And sleep. Sleeping in the rain is one of the best feelings.

I really do like rain. Rain is lovely and wonderful.

But when I want it to be summery, rain is not quite what I need. I need sunshine, light just dripping from the sky, heat snaking its way through walls and windows and into my bed, making my dreams warm and vivid and colorful. I need that urge to go do something, dance to songs that share that heated feeling of summer, to go on walks to try and quench the heat, to pull up my hair because the weight and heat is too much for my poor neck. I need bright blue skies that make me want to sing, stiff wind, and color in flowers and trees bursting in the bright sunshine.

I need to go to the beach, cool water trying to counteract the heat the sunlight is playing on my bare skin, my pale skin that I know I shouldn't leave out in the sun like this but I do anyway, because it's the beach and I like how it feels and there's nothing wrong with being a little sunkissed. I need ice cream, sitting with friends and family, trying to eat it all before it melts, and laughing as little children fail, their faces smeared with sweetness as they smile and try to hug you, you pushing them away so as not to fall into the same sticky situation.

I need the feel of grass on my bare feet, the coolness as my toes relax, the heat from the pavement gone as I seek a few moments' respite from the pounding heat that threatens to set fire to my little toes.

Long nights, late nights with friends, out long after the sun has gone down, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, the breeze sending little shivers down my arms as the world cools until the sun rises again tomorrow.

My opinion on frosting

I detest frosting.

I know some of you will hate me forever for saying this, but it's time that the world knew the truth.

I think frosting is some of the grossest stuff on earth.

Let's be real about frosting here for a moment. It's basically sugar plus some sort of liquid, smeared to ridiculous amounts of some sort of cakey/pastry thing.

IT IS SO MUCH SUGAR. And that much sugar piled on top of a cupcake or normal cake, ruining what might have tasted just fine by itself or with even a much much lesser serving of frosting, is pretty much what I consider culinary heresy.

I promise, you don't need three inches of frosting on top of your cupcake. I promise you don't. It won't make it taste any better. You shouldn't even need one inch of frosting on top of your cupcake. If your cupcake decorating requires that much frosting, I want you to take a step back and look at your actual cupcake sans frosting.

Then I want you to go make a cupcake that you don't feel the need to mask with frosting. Make a cupcake that tastes fabulous minus frosting, and you'll understand just how gross and unnecessary frosting is.

And yes, I am a cupcake snob. I'm a food snob in general. I like having nice food.

Frosting is not nice food.

Now I'm not saying that every cupcake that has frosting on it is horrible and should never be eaten, because if I ate only cupcakes that didn't have frosting, I'd never eat a cupcake. But do bear in mind that if you feel like you absolutely have to have twenty pounds of frosting on your cupcake, there's probably something wrong with the cupcake. Or you're putting crack in your frosting.

A small-normal amount of frosting (again, good frosting, and the stuff you can buy in a store is not necessarily bad frosting, same goes for cupcakes, so don't feel bad if it's not all homemade) on a cupcake is perfectly legitimate and tastes good. Cupcakes and frosting do go together, and I really don't know how I can break them apart.

Despite that frosting is still gross. Gross. I hate it. I don't know how I got on the cupcake quality tangent, but I'll go with that.

I don't do sweet things. I'm not a sweet fan. I don't like frosting, I barely eat cookies (unless they're gingersnaps because yum) because most of the time they are too sweet for my taste. Like, I can eat one cookie. Then not anymore or else I will die of a sweet attack.

Which is weird, thinking about it. You wouldn't think someone with low blood sugar problems would not like eating really sweet things. But I totally like savory things instead.

Weird. Just like the fact I really don't like to eat frosting. Oh well.

Luff ya kids.

It's summer, baby.

The last day of finals was today. It felt so good. So good.

I am so drained. Mentally, emotionally, physically. So don't ask me why I agreed to go with my friend tonight to see the Host.

Oh, wait. Yep.

Cuz it's summer and I can. It is summer.

IT IS SUMMER.

I have a week off before I get back to school, and, surprise, a new job! I got a job on campus and I should be starting that at the beginning of summer semester.

My summer semester is still a full schedule, since I want to keep my scholarship, but the nice thing is that it's spread out over two blocks with a five-week break in between that so it'll just be fabulous to not be taking five classes at a time.

I'll be going to Women's Conference in Provo this semester at the beginning of May (miss some class for that, but oh well). Even more exciting is that I got my bestie Brittany from Georgia to come out to Utah as well, so I'll get to see my bestie sister after two years of the Pacific ocean and most of mainland American separating us. Tears shall flow and laughter shall be held and it will be the best ever.

I got out of my "only listen to mostly British music" funk so now I'm listening to all the songs and they all just feel like summer.

The weather for the past week has just been lovely and summery and I will definitely make some time to go to the beach this summer and maybe go from pale ivory to normal ivory? It's worth a shot? In two years I went from ghostly to slightly less ghostly pale ivory. Yeah? No, I'll probably just burn like normal.

I will have fun. Yeah, I'll still have some classes, but I shall have fun and do things and have fun.

Starting with tonight.

Luff ya kids.

I've seen that picture before.

Just earlier, I was walking to Foodland to pick up a loaf of bread for dinner. On the way there, I was walking down the street, and standing in the curve of the road right behind Foodland were two boys.

They were standing on opposite sides of the road, bodies turned different directions, but they were facing each other and talking.

I'd seen that before. Although I'm usually one of the two standing there, needing to leave and do things, but unable to because that's my friend I'm talking to right here and I can't just leave.

It's an almost painful sight.

You see the true strength and pull that friendship has on people. It's a situation that says "I really need to go and attend to other matters of my life, and I know you do too, but I don't want to leave you."

It's the friendship version of "I love you."

Then I was coming back from Foodland, a loaf of bread into my hand, when I ran into one of my friends, who had her family with her. They had come to see her graduate. So I got to meet them, and it was quite lovely, and her mom said to me, "Thank you for being her friend."

It wasn't until later that that line really hit me. I mean, of course I was her friend. I had been introduced to her with the express hope of our mutual friends that we would become friends, and we did.

Over the course of the semester, our friendship did grow into something more than just "oh we happen to have vaguely similar tastes I like you" to something more, as friendships often do. Yeah, we had our disagreements over little things. But we were still friends.

It took a mother's view to see how much our friendship - and I'm certain all the friendships she'll see her daughter has made - meant to her daughter.

Just like I could see how much those two boys wanted to stay and talk to each other. Sometimes it takes a pair of outside eyes to see the truth in various relationships and how close people are.

And it's precious to see a moment of unguarded feelings between two people. It's a human moment. And those moments and the ones to be cherished the most.

And may the odds be ever in your favor

Today is the day finals officially start. As such, I have been very busy all day doing things for finals. For example, this morning I woke up and made a few edits to my final paper that was due for my Intro to Political Science class in a few hours.

Then I decided to look at my email and make sure that the paper fit the topic my professor gave us, since his changing it between the paper copy of the topic he gave us that morning and then the email he sent out that afternoon would only be proper and terrible and show how much I didn't really read the email he sent out.

The topic hadn't changed, but he'd changed a minor detail concerning it that he spoke about and then he wrote about, which was a fairly important minor detail, so I had to go back over my entire paper and fix it, muttering to myself the entire time because okay maybe the detail wasn't so minor and now the whole tone of my paper was different and look what he did no stahp.

So after getting rid of a few adjectives (seriously that's all I did) I sent it to him and got a confirmation email that he got it.

Then I went and did my morning internet browsing and had fun with that. Then I tried to focus and work on writing another paper.

I couldn't focus, so I went and watched some YouTube videos.

I still couldn't focus. I tried doing some things, and got some words written in a sort of basic not really outline.

Then I went and played the piano for an hour, because if I can't focus, I might as well be doing something actually productive rather than looking up more videos on youtube.

Then I did get some slightly productive stuff done while also doing internet things because internet.

Then I ate lunch.

Then I did some stuff that needed to be done but it wasn't finals related so I felt sort of bad but not.

Then I gave up on outlining that first paper and decided to start working on the other one I have to write. I told myself I could watch an episode of Arrested Development if I got an outline done.

While actually writing my outline, my mother came in and decided to distract me with strawberries and cheesecake. Not that I minded, but I did have an outline to write.

After a while she finally left. I went to work and finished my outline. Then I watched an episode of Arrested Development.

Now I'm writing a blog post. In an hour I will be taking my first finals test, which, you will have noticed, I have not studied for at all during the course of working on finals stuff during my day.

But it's okay. It'll be multiple choice.

Good luck to all you kids and your finals out there today. May the odds be ever in your favor.

Luff ya.

IT'S NOT MIDNIGHT YET (I still have time)

Hahahahahahaha yeah. Silly me. I got distracted writing a paper this morning, and then I went to a political science meeting thing with people about the Foreign Service, and that was super cool, and then I had some hours to chill and do vaguely productive things before I went to work, then I spent time talking to my parents and showered and now I have approximately 19 minutes until midnight. Which, if this blog post is posted after that, technically means I missed this day of BEDA, but I'm pretty sure I'll make it.

I don't really have a topic for today. Other than how epically I procrastinated writing this blog post. I'm good at procrastinating things and persuading myself I'll totally have time to do that later. I mean, yeah, I will have time, but my life would probably be a lot easier and more relaxed if I actually got off my lazy butt and did things in a proper time.

But then when I do get things done early I get twitchy and impatient and irritable.

When I'm late getting things done I'm twitchy and impatient and irritable.

My life is mostly spent trying to find a middle ground from which to work so I don't bite everyone's heads off. (Figuratively. I doubt I have the jaw strength to bite someone's head off. Maybe their fingers.)

So you're probably going to get maybe fifteen minutes of stream-of-consciousness typing, which means I should probably apologize now for some of the stuff i'm sure my fingers will say that I didn't mean to come out but did and I'm far to lazy to backspace and delete things. Plus that sort of takes away from the integrity of stream-of-consciousness typing.

I'm sort of curious how many of the BEDAs will end up either like this or verrrrryyyyy similar. Maybe if people gave me ideas.... but no, that would require effort to comment on my posts or something. Let's be real. Commenting on things is hard work and unless it really deserves it or you feel guilted into commenting or you actually really care about it, you don't do it. I don't do it.

Let's also be real again and notice that you don't really care about my blog enough to comment on it. I'm a vague distraction, something entertaining to read while your procrastinate whatever it is you're supposed to be doing. Occasionally I might say something intelligent and insightful, but most of the time it's like. "Carina. What are you typing. Stahp Carina. Don't stop, I like it, but seriously?"

This coming from the girl who got in an argument with her father about the degree of evil cats had on society. We have rational, intelligent conversations, everybody.

Okay, unless you're my mother. She's probably the exception to the "vague entertainment" bit. It's nice to be loved. Love you too mom. *blow kiss*

Ugh. My clock on my computer for some reason is fast and 7 minutes ahead of my actual cellphone clock and stuff. So my phone says I have ten more minutes, but my computer says 3, and I should probably just stop typing before I type something really stupid. Wait.

Luff ya'll.

What do I want to do with my life?

Last Saturday, while driving down to Hawaii Kai for working out with my friends, we were discussing the futures of two of the girls who would be graduating this coming Saturday and their life plans. One of them remarked, "Yeah, I wish I had started thinking about this earlier. I mean, I did start thinking about this a year ago, but now I'm here and it's like, now I have to make all these big decisions about my life."

Of course, in time, the conversation turned to the rest of us and eventually to me. What did I want to do once I graduated?

I didn't have an answer for that. I don't know what I want to do once I graduate.

Part of the reason for my lack of an answer is situational: I can't tell you what I'll be doing once I get to the stage of my life where I am graduated. Will I be married? Will I have children? Will I be in a relationship? What will have shaped me in the next few years that I have until I graduate? What opportunities will be open to me?

This isn't like high school, where everything seemed cookie-cuttered into easy choices. The future is too vague for me to tell to see where I will be standing to even make those choices.

So I sat there, staring out the window, trying to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life. All I could come up with is that I want to do something where I help people.

That's all I've really ever wanted to do. I've wanted to help people and I want to create things. Whether it's spiritually, physically, academically, financially, mentally, socially, I just want to help people.

I already know how to do that as a sister and friend and even eventually as a mother. I have lots of examples of that. Lots of wonderful, fabulous women who have shown me the impact they can have. I want to do that.

But part of me wants to do more. I want that same influence I see in other women around me to reach more than my family and those I interact with normally. I want to influence my community, I want to influence the world. I want to make it better.

I want to be heard, I want to be respected, I want to discuss and actually do things that can help the world.

I want to be the best person I can be. Whether I'm helping my future children or future children that aren't mine or not even children and just people, I want to make sure that I'm doing it to the best of my abilities.

I don't know what the future has in store for me. I will be just as happy being a mother and taking care of my family as I imagine I'd be out working and hopefully helping people. Or a combination of both. I just don't know how my life will work out.

The possibilities that lay before me right now are unimaginable. What I choose to follow is something I don't think I'll realize I'll have done until I get there. It will come from all the small choices I make now, fueled by my desires and the effort I put in.

So I'm going to go write my essay on free speech for my final exam so I'll get good grades so I'll continue to better myself for my future husband and children and everyone else I hope to influence for good.

Doing arty stuff with my brother

As I previously mentioned, I had a lot of catching up on General Conference to do today. Not just because I missed yesterday, but also because I couldn't wake up this morning.

I'm still sore all over. Just all the sore pain. I'm never moving ever again. I wish that last sentence were true.

Anyway, so I'm in my room listening to General Conference on my computer. My little brother (who isn't so little since he's taller than me) is also in here, playing with beads and stuff trying to find something to do. (His hands-on creativity always amazes me. He can make anything.)

I'm painting my nails because I want some color on them and stuff. My brother asks me what he should do.

I tell him to make me a choker because the ribbon for my compass choker broke the other day.

And by broke I mean I tied the knot too tight around my neck so the only recourse to get it off my neck was to cut it off. There is nothing more reassuring than holding scissors to your neck to cut off a choker.

But that's not the point. So we made a choker.

And by made I mean I told him how to make it and helped him tie knots (because he's the Boy Scout and I can tie knots in jewelry making where he can't?)

I also had to keep telling him to keep the design simple, because I won't wear something gaudy and ridiculous. And I would like to wear something that he made. He kept wanting to make it ridiculously complicated, but no.

So we finally made it and it looks lovely.

Here it is:

And also my ridiculous face. Luff ya'll.

BEDA 1: I am tired and lacking normal sleeping patterns

I'm exhausted. Like, physically, completely exhausted. Which fits with the theme of my sleeping patterns for most of this past week.

It's been crazy strange and weird. For the past semester, I've had classes Monday Wednesday Friday, with my Tuesdays and Thursdays off.

I also have a 7:30 am class, which means that staying up late the night before sucks.

But for the past week, my body has decided to be stupid. It goes, oh, Carina, you're tired, you should go to bed early. I do that, but I only have felt that on Monday Wednesday Friday nights. The nights it would be better to stay up anyway because I can sleep in a little more because no 7:30 class.

But the other nights? NOPE CARINA YOU CAN'T SLEEP EVER. I'm just not tired. I'll be super tired, but then I'll get ready for bed and walk in my room and just get all the energy and not be able to sleep.

It's crazy. Luckily this won't last out the week and even if it does, I just have to get through finals and it'll be fine.

And I'm just exhausted today, and have been all day, because I got up at the crack of dawn and then went and did a Body Pump with my friends for her birthday.

I don't do exercise normally, unless it's like something fun. And usually not strength training. I have no strength in the first place. I'm a stick. Just upper arm strength is pretty much nonexistent. Let's be real.

So my arms are dying. The rest of my body not so much, because they tend to get more exercise when I do get actual exercise, because Zumba and aerobic dancing and other things that use legs and abs and stuff.

But then to top it off, I spent a full like five hours shopping with these same friends in Ala Moana right after.

Let's take a moment to realize that I do like shopping. And by shopping I mean buying me things because that's what shopping is.

But nothing reminds just how much I hate shopping than spending all day shopping. And I hate shopping with a surprisingly fiery passion.

But I also love it. Add that to the list of contradictions my life has been today.

I'm awake and I'm also super tired.

I feel really great and fit and out of shape and ew.

I wanted to buy things but then I'd have to spend money so no.

I have all the energy and all the exhaustion at the same time.

Just don't ask me to walk down stairs. Or lift things. Oddly enough, walking up stairs is fine. Just not going down.

When I finally got home, I was ready to just fall in my bed and not deal with life or people for the next 12 hours or whenever I decided to wake up. (Which would be 6 am tomorrow because General Conference)

But then I was hungry, so I had to eat, and then I went to take a shower and now I'm awake, which isn't what a hot shower is supposed to do, I thought.

Then I was like, "I'll check Instagram real quick because it'll be quick."

Nope. I found this account and then had to go and look at all their pictures because it was beautiful.

Then I remember that I need to write this blog post. And do some religion stuff so I can get extra credit. (Daily scripture study isn't that hard, but I'm exhausted and I already used up my three day's grace period during the semester. Normally not a problem, but I'm tired.) And I haven't checked Facebook all day.

And my throat hurts. Which means Daryl gave me her cold while we were out today. Or that my throat hurts. Depends on how long it lasts.

I give the girl an oreo cheesecake for her birthday and she gives me a sore throat.

I love her too.

So I'm gonna go do all those things hopefully quickly and then go to bed. I'm very tired.

Finals week... AGAIN. Also BEDA?

It's that time of semester again. Finals week is next week, which means of course the normal thing is going on.

1) I have a moderate amount of work to do that I haven't started/am in the process of doing but it's not done yet.

2) The Internet is my new best friend.

3) I only have about half of my final schedule, as half of my professors are like: We'll discuss this Monday and I'll give you more details then. (Monday being the last day of class)

4) I had my mental breakdown last week. And will probably have another one later next week. But right now I am perfectly fine and don't really actually care at all.

5) Being super bored and also the school website isn't loading so I can't quite get at some of the things I want to look at to be productive, I'm writing a blog post.

It's been a while. I feel like my blogging schedule this past semester has been really sketchy.

So to counteract that, I've come up with an idea. That's totally not my idea at all, but I'll take it anyway.

I've been watching videos on YouTube, and one of my favorite vloggers, Hank Green, is doing VEDA.

VEDA is vlogging every day in April. That's pretty much all I know about it. You make a vlog and you post one every day in April and that's how it works.

However, I don't vlog. (Not owning a camera, and also hating watching myself on camera far too much).

But that shouldn't stop me from writing a blog post every day in April. Nor should the fact that it's already April 5. But whatever.

If you have any ideas as to what you would like to see me post and talk about on here in April, feel free to comment and let me know.

I'll see you tomorrow. Luff ya.