Você fala Português?

As I'm sure many of you know, I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka LDS aka Mormon). In October 2012, during General Conference, the ages at which young men and women are able to serve missions were lowered, to 18 for the gentlemen and 19 for the ladies. This caused quite the hubbub for the entire world*, naturally, and I quickly submitted my papers. I recieved my call on November 15 to the Portugal Lisbon mission! I report to the MTC in April (yeah, it's a long wait, I know. Trust me... I know).

So why, you may ask, would a 19-year-old girl (or guy) decide to drop everything in the middle of the school year to move across the globe, to a place she doesn't know, to try to teach strangers in a language she doesn't speak?

Gooooood question.

Quarter Life Crisis

So, I guess today is my birthday or something. It was on this day twenty years ago that I decided to grace the world with my presence. I say "decided" because I was born 16 days late... Even in the womb I liked sleeping in.
Speaking of sleeping in, I wish I could have slept through today. I might be having a quarter-life crisis. (It's a thing). According to a quiz I took online today, I'll die around age 90. That means I have lived 22% of my life already. And I haven't even done 22% of the things I want to do. And for some things, it's TOO LATE BECAUSE NOW I'LL NEVER BE A TEENAGER AGAIN. I have to be all responsible and adult-like now... (probably).

biffle.

So I have this best friend, who is pretty great. And I decided to write this post because she's super awesome and I love her soooo much. And also, because of this.

I obviously only do nice things for her when she makes me*. 

That looks nice enough, right? Except then she sent me a text* and a message* and tweeted at me* to say if I didn't write a really nice blog post about her she was going to kidneypunch^tm me so hard I'd feel it last year*. So this post is for Kalen. Because I'm scared of her*.

*Oh yeah. All of these starred things are lies.

20 bucks

My arm has a fever.
I know it's "for my own good", as I said to the nurse, but is it really necessary to stick 37, 000 needles into my poor, frail body? (And by 37, 000 I mean seven. And by frail I mean I didn't eat breakfast.) But seriously. I feel like there's got to be a better way to get people healthy than by viciously jabbing a rusty metal rod into their muscles.
Option #1: Maybe a pill? Then instead of injecting a live virus into the fatty tissue of your arm where it can wreak havoc with your autoimmune system... You could just swallow a little tablet and be done. It's like getting all of the awesome Spidey powers without needing to be bitten by a radioactive arachnid.

Then you could be as happy as this freakishly content woman.
*This picture has been censored for our more sensitive viewers.* 

Hashtag Umm

Recently while on Pinterest, I stumbled across this gem of a pin:

Now, I know that I spend way too many hours on this website and that by 2 a.m. I start to agree with any ol' pin, but this one really is true. When you're a tween, you cannot WAIT to be an adult with all its privileges and glory. But hold onto your britches and quit running towards your imminent grown-up-hood. Because being old is LAME.
The thing about being an "adult" (and by that I mean a college student about to hit my quarter-life crisis), is that it, well, kind of stinks sometimes. It's like those "Expectations vs. Reality memes you see online. Except this is only funny because it's true.

But it looks so good in the pictures...

Today was a Potter Tale

Just for fun. A Harry Potter version of "Today was a Fairytale" by Taylor Swift. I recommend you play that song in the background and loudly sing these lyrics over the top of it. 

Today was a Potter tale
The Dursley's are a mess
I used to be a muggle in distress
Gave me a cake and my wizardry confessed

Today was a Potter tale

All I need is 47 cats

I am basically destined to be a cat lady. Don't believe me? I'll prove it.
First. It's in my blood. My dad hates cats, but obviously these things skip a generation. Plus I'm one-fourth Canadian which starts with "ca-" just like cats does, multiplied by the square of common letters equals 100%. One hundred percent original crazy cat lady.
Second. This video (See original here)

Uh yeah Kalen is the best. We could totally start a cat colony. Like a nun convent but with cats. 

This time I really am dying

In December, I got really sick and diagnosed myself on WebMD. I thought I was going to die. Luckily for all of you, I didn't. But I had to go to the doctor today (annual summertime checkups with the doctor, dentist, optometrist...). Also I have had asthma for like 47 years but never got officially diagnosed and I decided that I should probably get an inhaler so that I can breathe every once in awhile.

Oxygen is kind of a big deal. 

So anyways, I went to my pediatrician (whatever I'm still a kid). And I got an inhaler. But then the doctor was all, "Oh hey let me check on your immunizations!" He left to get my record and I tried to run away, but my mom grabbed me (whatever my mom came. I'm still a kid) and held me down. Turns out I had to get a shot... Turns out that one time when I got a flu shot and fainted wasn't a fluke. I passed out again. 

Lesser of Two Evils

I apologize for my somewhat lengthy blogging hiatus. You see, I attended spring term here at BYU, where I ACTUALLY HAD FRIENDS!!! And now that I'm home for summer, I haven't had enough motivation to get out of bed before noon, let alone to be witty, sarcastic, and annoying.
So about two months ago, I took the Salt Lake Express shuttle to good ol' Rexburg, Idaho, for my best friend's missionary farewell (Yes, I paid $115.70 for that. But I saved three dollars so it was a good deal). While I was there, I stayed with my wonderful cousin at her apartment. I also got the opportunity to tour BYU-I (aka the "lesser" BYU) and spend a little bit of time on the campus. After this experience, I came to one conclusion.

On a Scale of One to.....

Punny sayings.... They're better in a Utah accent. 
On a scale of one to Harry's godfather, how serious are you? Dead Sirius.

Long Hair Problems

A few days ago I got a hair cut. (Just a single hair...) Except it was more of a trim than a cut. Which is why I can't be offended that no one is complimenting my haircut. Maybe if I cut it short, people would notice. It would solve a lot of problems. It's rough having long hair:

Get out of my mind!

So with everyone moving away at the end of the semester and all my guy friends going on missions, it feels like everyone I know has vanished off the face of the earth. To avoid that awful hole-in-your-stomach feeling, I've come up with a few ways to keep yourself from missing people! It works with friends, acquaintances, crushes, and even pets. So whether it's your best friend moving to Timbuktu or beloved Goldie passing away after a long fishy life (about 14 days), use these tips to stop the weeping as the plane takes off and the fish transcends the porcelain throne to his watery grave.

Goodbye, Mr. Fish. You were a good fish. You never ran away from home or anything.  :(

Worst GPA Ever.

Well, the grades for winter semester are up today. I am very disappointed with myself. I got the worst grades of my entire life. And I'm a little upset because it's not entirely my fault. (Okay maybe a little. But still).

One year older and wiser, too

Well, that's it. My freshman year of college is over. I decided to figure out if I've learned anything at all the past nine months... And I realized I've learned a LOT (surprising, I know). So here's a hodgepodge list of stuff that's been crammed into my brain since September. 

I think I'm kind of funny

So awhile ago I did a stand-up comedy routine for my ward talent show. I'm still not sure if it was even funny or not, but it amused me, so maybe you will find small enjoyment in it as well. Especially because it's all about our favorite topic--BYU dating. Some things are specific to my ward, but you can ignore those. Also, delivery is a big part so... pretend I'm screaming at you.

"You'll be engaged by December!"

Cinnamon Challenge

The cinnamon challenge.


I reacted even worse. So basically, the cinnamon challenge is the most horrible decision ever. Step into my shoes and see.

I'm starving!

Over the weekend, I did a media fast for my communications class. Basically, for three days, you "abstain from all forms of electronic media". This includes telephones, cell phones, radios, TVs, computers, and any other communications device powered by electricity. This means that for 72 hours, I was unable to communicate with anyone besides face-to-face contact. It was especially heartrending because my roommates and best friend went out of town for President's Day. Also, it was my Grandma's birthday and I couldn't call. To occupy myself during this media apocalypse, I kept a handwritten captain's log of my pain and suffering (at least for the first 24 hours), and now here it is for your time-wasting enjoyment.

Friday, February 17.

12:01 a.m. It has begun. The time of judgment is nigh at hand. Power down all devices.

1:09 a.m. Already breaking the rules. Turn phone on to text my mother and remind her that if she doesn't hear from me the next three days, I'm not dead. Power down all devices, for real this time.

8:04 a.m. Wake up from a dream about using my computer. Literally drooling. Disgustingly addicted.

Awopierjvkla;*&YAhfk

You know that moment when you pulled an all-nighter and you were fine becuase you were doing stuff but then you sat down to watch Hulu and then all of a sudden you're like falling aslepe...? This is that moment. I an also leaving all the typos in this post because I am took tired to fix it. (Haha, good luck, suckers.)

^ You trying to read this pots with its innumerable typos.

It's not you, it's me

BOY DRAMA. It happens.

They say "Only two things in life are certain: death and taxes." To this, I would add a third universal constant: boys will rarely do as you expect them to, and certainly will never do what you wish them to. Now, this isn't entirely your fault, men. I concede that women are strange, highly volatile creatures, and unless you are one of them, it is highly improbable that you can ever determine their desires. I, however, have a male conspiracy theory, that men aren't necessarily trying as hard as they would have us believe.

The woodchuck's 24 hours of fame

Ah, Groundhog's Day. The day we bestow the responsibility and blame of weather patterns upon a small, unassuming rodent. On Groundhog Day, if the poor little creature sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter are "predicted". This whole tradition, however, is backwards on so many levels.