True Love

I have decided that I have two true loves in this world. The first is Oliver from A Lot Like Love. Love him. Second is Neil from He's Just Not That Into You. Adore him. And could see myself living happily ever after with either of them. That's all. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Time of Day

Right now is not my favorite time of day. The time of day where I'm just finding the spots all over my legs where the bugs ate me alive. The time of day where I'm wondering where the crap that came from. The time of day where I'm no longer the social butterfly. The time of day where I'm seriously contemplating the one thing I swore I'd never do. The time of day where I look at cute pictures of couples, and almost start to cry. The time of day where all I want to do is book a flight home- wherever that may be. The time of day where all I want to do is eat my feelings in the form of french fries dipped in frosties. The time of day where I miss my family and home more than I can ever remember. The time of day where I wish I could be studying right now. The time of day where all I want to listen to is sad love songs, angry girl music, and Coldplay. The time of day where if you mess with me I'll punch you in the face. The time of day when not even the sight of the moon could make me smile. The time of day where I feel fake. The time of day where everything from the brain down is exhausted. The time of day where I want to listen to the Fray's Never Say Never 84 more times. The time of day where I really just want to cry my eyes out. The time of day where a kiss of the forehead would make life so much better. The time of day where all I want is for my dad to swoop me up in one of his big bear hugs, and for my mom to tell me how awesome I am, and that I'm a daughter of God. The time of day where I just want to fast forward to 3.7 months from now. The time of day where I want to read Wuthering Heights, because it matches my heart. The time of day where I want to be impatient and selfish. The time of day where I know what I really want, and dude, I want it. The time of day where I want to read Harry Potter. The time of day where I'm happy that I have a blog. The time of day where I want to fall asleep to Pride and Prejudice. The time of day where I make rash decisions. The time of day when I'm not myself. Right now is not my favorite time of day. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Epiphany

I've figured it out. The reason for all the stress that comes along with dating:

In the giant game of love the women are playing rugby, and the men are playing soccer. The reason this game is so messed up is because we are each playing with our own set of rules. We have our own ways to score, our own ways to foul, and our own ways to win and lose. And that is the problem with dating my friends. We are all just trying to make it mesh. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Groggy

You know that feeling you get when you wake up from a nap, and you don't know your name? That feeling of, oh please don't ask me what day it is. That feeling of stop the world please, I'd like to get off. When your head won't stop spinning and your eyes are all clouded up. That feeling you get when you stumble out of your bed a little too quickly and suddenly everything is spinning just a little too fast around you. That feeling of oh crap- how long have I been out? That feeling of wait, who am I? That moment when you first wake up when your contacts are gummy, and stick to themselves. That moment you you wipe the drool from off of your cheek. That groggy state the totally incapacitates you for about 3.8 minutes after you wake up. I really hate that feeling. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Pizza=Productivity

Today I had something very similar to a strange realization happen to me. Today in Relief Society, one of the leaders got up and made an announcement about Home and Visiting Teaching, and the importance of it. Granted. That's some pretty powerful stuff right there. She then proceeded to tell us that if we were really good, and got it all done, we could have a pizza party. That took me back to third grade; remember when you were positively reinforced with pizza to do all of your fundraising, and sell the most wrapping paper and cookie dough? Or in 7th grade Choir class, when you got a pizza party for completing your concert without any serious mishaps? Or when you were a senior, and your biology class beat Mr. Kimmell's Honor's biology class in properly labeled lab reports? How did you celebrate? With a pizza party. What is it about Americans, or maybe just humans in general, where they think that in order to make people more productive they have to offer them a pizza party. In my short life, I cannot even tell you the number of frivolous pizza parties that were waved in my face in order to increase productivity. So this poses and problem. I don't know weather to feel like offended for being treated as a child, or feel offended that society has shaped us in such a way that we only perform well when such nonsensical things as pizza are on the line. I mean really? A pizza party equals a cup of warm root beer or orange soda, and maybe two slices of pizza if you're lucky. And all you are left with is a nasty greasy napkin, and the memory of selling that wrapping paper. Really? How does that increase productivity?? Such were the thoughts running through my mind during the announcement section of Relief Society. But really? Why do we have pizza parties for everything? Please consider this the next time you are feeling the slightest bit pensive. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Hold the Phone

Hold the phone. I just realized something. This past week has been a great one for reflection where Emmilie tries to figure out what to do with her life. (Yet again. It's awesome.) There have been lots of people that have given me great advice and offered so much wisdom and support. Yet everyone always asks me if I'm having boy problems. Nope. I'm good in that department thank you very much. But guess what? I have had two offers of marriage this week. Granted they were offers for arranged marriages. I had two guys tell me that I could marry their sons, no problem. But two offers of marriage. What the St. Francis. Do you know how much easier my life would be if I was getting married. I know that it would secretly be stressful, but I could make all of my decisions around that. That would help my life. So maybe all I need to do to figure out my life is meet these two squares, fall in love with one of them and get hitched. But then again, maybe not. Just thought I'd rant for a bit. It's fine. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Summer Playlist

Right, so I decided that this summer can pretty much be summed up into one awesome playlist. Here are all of those fan-freakin-tastic songs that made the list. 

1. My Life Would Suck Without You- Kelly Clarkson
2. Kiss Kiss- Chris Brown & T-Payne
3. Major Tom- Shiny Toy Guns
4. Shake It-Metro Station
5. Thinking of You- Katy Perry
6. Let it Rock- Kevin Rudolf
7. You Found Me- The Fray
8. Happy Ending- Mika
9. Jason Mraz. All of him. 
10. Right Round- Flo Rida
11. Come on Get Higher- Matt Nathanson
12. Womanizer- Britney Spears
13. Free Fallin'- John Mayer
14. Swallowed in the Sea- Coldplay
15. Closer- Ne-Yo
16. Like a Prayer- Madonna
17. Thriller- Michael Jackson
18. Don't Stop Believing- Cast of Glee
19. That's Not My Name- The Ting Tings
20. Low- Flo Rida

All of these songs are glorious, and have made up the soundtrack to my summer. Naturally, we've dance it out to all of them. And it was grand. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Horror Story

Okay, so this is one of the worst stories I have ever had to tell. It's the kind of story that guarantees me a little spot in the hottest portion of Hell. Yes, it's that bad. It's the kind of story where I will beg you not to judge me. It's the kind of story that goes a little something like this:

Right, so I work at Animal Kingdom. We have animals there. Weird, right? It's fine. Well yesterday, I was walking along, doing my thing, about to go and collect those abandoned strollers. Suddenly, a very concerned guest comes up to me and points out a little baby duckling who is looking very lost, and very frightened in the middle of the road. Awesome. Now I get to save some duck. So maybe I hate animals; it's fine. I tell her to hang in there, that I will go talk to someone, and get this taken care of. (Just puttin' her at ease...) I go and talk to someone from Guest Relations, because their job is to know everything. She tells me that sadly, there is nothing that can be done. Because the ducks are not Disney owned, and are just natural wildlife, if they were to call someone to take care of them, they would take them and destroy them. That's no bueno, so she told me to just push it off to the side back to where it was. So, with a plan in mind, and a mission to save this duck in my heart, I set off. I'm going to save this duck. The guest was there trying to guard it, looking quite distraut. I promised that I would take it back to it's mother and not to worry. I tried to shoo it off back to the "wild" but it would have none of it. So instinct took over, (you know, those natural born duck saving instincts) I scooped up that little duckling in my hands, and set off to find it's mom. Now, I'm not an animal person. As in I hate them, but in that moment that I picked up that duck, I loved it. I really did, and I was determined to get it home safely. So I walk around the oasis looking for all the other ducks. Meanwhile, all the other guests are freaking out, "Oh! Look! She has a baby duck!!" Once again, I don't know what it is about nature, but people freak out. For real. Whatev. I had a mission; I was going to find that poor little ducklings mom, so help me; so help me. So I find the little pond where a bunch of female ducks are just chillin. So I think to myself, "Hey, maybe we'll get lucky, and one of these ducks will be motherly, and you know, take this poor thing under it's wing." (Litterally) So I set the duckling through the fence, and tell him to go on home. He runs to the water and calls for his mom, and my heart was happy. I was feeling pretty good. He was home safe. Or so I thought. The moment he gets into the water, all of the female ducks around him start freaking out. He starts following them around, and they hiss at him, and try to dodge him. Now I'm thinking this: "What the St. Francis. This doesn't look good." Then suddenly all of those stupid ducks gang up on this little baby and start pecking at him!!! It was like a gang fight. For ducks. It was awful. And I was so concerned about the little guy; I started screaming at the other ducks, causing the group of guests that had gathered around me to look on with alarm. But to no avail. These horrible duck mothers were killing him. Suddenly I couldn't watch any more. It was too horrific for me. I had to just walk away as nature killed the only duck I have ever loved. It was one of the worst moments of my life. And it was all my fault. Pretty sure I almost bawled my eyes out. Especially when my co-worker announced to the entire break room that I killed a baby duck. Thanks Brian. You're a pal. That is why I'm going to Hell. Write to me from the Celestial Kingdom, okay? Thank you, and goodnight. 

For the Record

Here are a few things I think you should know:

I love the smell of cedar. Sometimes, I like to dress like a journalist. I'm allergic to tanning beds and sweet tarts. I wish that I had studied architecture and design. I have a soft spot in my heart for the Beatles, old movies, and black and white photography. I can't dance to save my life. I'm a sucker for kisses on my forehead. I hate animals. My favorite flavor is pumpkin, I love ice cream more than most things in life, and I would put peanut butter on just about anything. I dream about making the world a better place one human interest piece at a time. I don't like white shoes, and want to wear red ones at my wedding. Forever 21 is my favorite place to shop. I know that God lives. 

That's about it. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Ostentation of Psychos

Okay, so don't think I'm a bad person or anything... but some people kind of concern me. I work for Disney, right? Right. Well Disney is all about faith, trust and a little bit of pixie dust. Yes- all of that crap. Everything is sunshine and happiness. Everything except for the guests. Today I was working those trusty little turnstiles, and I had quite the ostentation of psychos come to visit Disney's Animal Kingdom. Bless their hearts. Today I would like to focus on the select four who have made it onto my blog; those lucky souls. They were sweet spirits, and upon seeing them I was shocked with how out of place they looked in a Disney theme park. There was one guy with aqua colored hair. (The first thought that came to mind I'm ashamed to say was "Is that Disney look?" It's fine.) The second girl looked like the kind of girl that inspires some of my favorite words from my friend and yours, William Scott, "She must be a vampire." And I think in fact she was. The second girl was wearing a conglomeration of black and red death/pirate/I-will-kill-you-in-your-face clothes. I was a little concerned. The second guy just looked lost. But don't worry, he too was decked out in all black and 48 different piercings. Bless him. The moment they passed through those blessed turnstiles, all happiness fled from my heart. Now I really am not that judgmental in real life, but I really did feel a little bit of fear/doom/gloom. What the St. Francis? So being by awkward self, and putting on that sweater, I kind of just stood there in my sleep-deprived, judgment-lacking state and gawked at them. Then, as they were walking into the Oasis, the most peaceful place in all of Animal Kingdom, I hear this: "So I called that lady to see about my death, and she told me that there was going to be a man dressed in black beckoning me into the dark gloom of dawn." No lie. At that moment I stopped, and pondered the universe for a second, but all that I could seem to muster up was a little something that goes like this: "What the St. Francis." Not even a question. Just the simple statement that puts into words what everyone is thinking. Did that just happen? Answer=yes. I really wish that at that moment in time someone could have taken a picture of my life as it was then at that moment. I have never felt more baffled by a random comment in my life. Yet, feeling slightly dubious, all I wanted to yell out after them was, "Have a magical day!" However the feeling of shock was to overpowering for me and I ended up just making my awkward face at the next 8 guests who passed through before I finally was able to snap out of it. Part of me wanted to follow them around just to see how a normal conversation flowed between the four of them. But it might just scar me for life if I did. Or end up making me laugh out loud for 7 minutes at the sheer idiocy of it all. I guess I'll never know. But I do know this: I heart such nonsense. Absolutely heart it. Thank you, and goodnight.

No Touchy

Right, so not gonna lie- this time I have spent down here in Orlando has equaled some pretty surprising and unexpected lessons learned about myself. However, one I was not prepared for was the one called Emmilie is not a touchy-feely person in the least. I honestly had never noticed how much physical contact makes me super awkward. I just don't do it. It's kind of weird actually. I'll hug you, it's totally fine, but nothing more than that. I'm not very cuddly. Back off. I don't like to be touched. Don't try. It makes me put on my awkward sweater pretty darn fast if ya feel me on that one. It's fine. Once upon a time I had a friend discover this about me, and he may or may not have found some sadistic pleasure in watching me put on my awkward sweater. So knowing my secret and being himself, he held one finger on my shoulder as I tried to tell an awesome story. I couldn't do it. I couldn't finish the awesomeness because the awkwardness was too overpowering. It was highly frustrating. I don't know where this little vent session came from exactly; don't worry about it. I think that I was holding in all of these feelings of animosity towards people who touch me unnecessarily. Like that time my co-worker, (who I love, just for the record) decided to wipe her sweaty hands on my face. Awesome sauce. I'm still convulsing in the corner. It's fine. Or that time that we were at the Grand and all of these girls were in the mood to cuddle... and it did not end well. Oh! Oh! Oh!! And I hate having to pretend that I'm good with being touched... you know, for those random social situations that require cuddling... (It happens. Don't judge.) Holy St. Francis. I have assumed the awkward position just writing all of this! You know, the hunched shoulders, and slightly awkward grimace look on the face. It's totally fine. I guess I just had to make this little realization public. It feels so much better to get it all out in the open. Just don't judge me. Or touch me. Thank you, and goodnight.

Close Call

Right, so today I had a pretty close call. One of my favorite things to do is look at engagement pictures. Often there are little outbursts such as, "Holy St. Francis that is so awkward! What were they thinking??" Or, "Oh snap. That is so cute. I want to do that." or "What?! I'll never do that! I hate the generic awkward poses!!" Don't judge me. It's fine. But today, another thought crossed my mind as I was looking at engagement pictures of some long lost high school friend. It hit me that I've never really had that with anyone. Obviously I've never been engaged. It's fine. But I've never even had a real relationship before. Now dear readers, this is where it got scary. For about 4.7 seconds (which was probably more like 47.1 seconds) I started to feel really sorry for myself. I started to wallow in that self-pity that I hate so much. But don't worry. I snapped out of it real quick because I realized something so vital. And it goes a little something like this: I heart life so much. I don't need anything that I don't already have right now. How blessed am I to be able to say that? And I know that a relationship is in my future. Probably the very distant future, but you know what? It's totally fine. For real life. Because I have something to look forward to. And until then, I have so much sunshine and laughter to get me through. Thank you and goodnight.

Guess What?

Okay, this might sound a little hippie...ish or something... don't worry about it. It's fine. But I have decided that Florida has been good for my health. Why you may ask? Because I have healthy doses of sunshine and laughter every single day. I love it so much. And this would normally end up on my happy blog, but I think that everyone should know just how much I heart sunshine and laughter. This much. (That equals a lot. It's fine.)

I love the feel of the sun on my face. I love feeling those dangerous UV Rays cascading over me. It makes me smile, and brings warmth to my heart. I love the sun so much. It's so happy. It's everything cliche about warmth, and happiness and brightness, and guess what? I heart it.

I love laughing. I love it when somehting catches you off guard and has you doubled up laughing for roughly 37.3 seconds straight before your brain registers that you should probably take a breath. I love laughing so hard that it makes your abs burn. I love smiling so wide that it makes your cheeks hurt. I love those big belly laughs that let everyone within a 7 foot radius know, hey- something funny just happened. Guess what? I heart it.

I love Florida, becuase I have had so much of both of my favorite things since I have been here. So forget me not, Orlando, becuase guess what? I heart you too. Thank you, and goodnight.

18 Point Improvement

So do you want to hear an awesome story? It goes a little something like this: I decided to take a mental health day yesterday, and call in and go to the beach. I have finally hit that point where I'm done trying to be the stellar Disney Employee. I'll work, and I'll work hard- but if something more fun comes up, like I don't know... say a trip to the beach... I'm going to choose the beach. It's fine. So after making this wise little choice, and driving to Daytona with Chris Brown and the cast of Across the Universe, I start to soak up some sun with my peeps. And it was glorious. Absolutely glorious. While chillin' on the beach with a hot dog in hand, my friends and I notice this girl who is standing so picturesquely underneath a stairwell. One thing is absolutely certain. This chick could be a model. We are just about to start oohing and ahhing over her to the point of embarrassment when she takes a smoke, and kind of kills it for everyone. Way to go Bernadette. Way to go. After this little set back we go onto other subjects, such as what will make Emmilie put on her awkward sweater, or dance breaks to Britney Spears. When suddenly, Bernadette starts walking towards us. I felt as if something should be said to her. After all, she did inspire us for about 47.3 seconds. So, I shout the first sarcastic thing I could muster up. It comes out a little something like, "Hey good lookin'..." Sadly, dear readers, at this very moment, some guy was crossing paths with our dear Bernadette, and mistook this salutation to be for him. He gave me a sly grin and a little wave. Thoroughly befuddled, I shake my head and say, "No, not you! Her!" while pointing around him towards Bernadette. That's when I stopped and laughed out loud for about 4 minutes, because guess what? That just happened. This guy, whose name turned out to be Joe was kind of a really big square. And after getting to know him a little bit better over the period of 3 minutes, it did not surprise me in the least that he thought that cat call was meant for him. Oh no, Joe. Oh no. But my life improved by about 18 points by this little scene. So thanks, Joe. Thanks, Bernadette. And thank you, and goodnight.

Bittersweet

Okay. So this happened: a little thing called a credit card purchase. Of what you may ask? Airline flights. To where? California. Yes, I just bought my plane ticket home, and my heart just broke a little bit. The thought of leaving Orlando is killing me. Quite frankly, I'm not okay with the whole leaving phenomenon. No thanks. Not that I'm not terribly excited to see my family again. It will have been 8 and a half months since I have seen them. But still- Orlando is home to me. As silly and a little cliche as that sounds, eat it; it's the truth. I've lived quite a few places, and no where feels like home to me as much as Orlando does.

So this little bittersweet blog is an ode to you Orlando. I'll miss your humidity, and your sunshine. I'll miss the sunsets and the beautiful summer evenings. I'll miss the fireworks every night. I'll miss the winding roads, and the forests of beautiful trees. I'll miss the green. I'll miss the beach. I'll miss the sound of those pesky bugs that echo me home. I'll miss the night sky that is never fully darkened thanks to all of those city lights. But most of all I think I will miss everyone I'm leaving behind.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Intropsection

So I had to laugh a little bit this morning. And here is why: yesterday I was reminded of what I where I was this time last year. And Holy St. Francis. Do you realize how much can happen in a year? A whole lot. I was reflecting on all of it, and I couldn't believe all of the life lessons that have happened since last June, and how much I have learned. This morning I pulled out my trusty old journal and flipped back to June of last year. And it made me chuckle a little bit. I had a flashback to the anti-social part of my life when I was a little bit more awkward. Yeah- it wasn't a pretty time. As I was reading over my slightly pathetic entries it was a great moment of introspection. I was the definition of a square. Okay, so that may be an exaggeration, but still- I have changed so much. And isn't it such a blessing that we are continually progressing in this life? Good thing my 25-year-old self will be so much more awesome than my 21-year-old self; and my 30-year-old self will be better than my 25-year-old self. Good thing I have the potential for awesomeness. Good thing we all do.

Then I thought about all of the events that have happened in the past year. Some of them were pretty sweet. Living in Orlando for 8 months equals sweet. My friends from last Fall semester, also sweet. That whole broken heart thing... not so sweet. The whole trying to figure out what to do with your life thing... not so sweet. But you know what? I learned so much from everything, and I have become so much stronger because of it. Awesome sauce!

And then I thought again about change, and how really it's the only thing in our lives that we can depend on. And you know, I think I like that. I like the fact that things are always changing. Changing light bulbs; changing clothes; changing jobs; changing seasons; changing friends; changing styles; changing love interests; changing addresses; changing majors; changing scenery; changing your mind. Good thing we have this beautiful thing called agency that allows us to make all of these changes to our lives. I went through a period of my life where I was convinced that people couldn't change. But then I did a little more of that introspection thing, and realized how much I have changed. And it changed my mind.

So thank goodness for those moments in life that allow you to look back. Thank goodness for those moments that allow you to change. Thank goodness for those moments that help you grow. And thank you, and goodnight.

Awkward Sweater

So sometimes I feel like a little bit of a square. And it's totally fine. But really- I'm kind of a really awkward person. Yet with most things, I think that awkwardness is a choice. Sometimes it just has to happen. Awkwardness is like that nasty lumpy sweater in the back of your closet that you refuse to wear unless it's an extreme emergency. You know the one; the sweater that looks like your grandma's knitting needles blew up. Yeah that one. Yet sometimes, you have to put it on. You have to wear the awkward sweater. And you know that it's going to be hot, and uncomfortable. It's itchy and scratchy, and it smells a little bit like corn chips. But it must be done. Why am I triggering all of these memories for you, dear readers? Because yesterday I wore the awkward sweater. I got off the phone with a friend of mine, and felt super weird. It was kind of a weird conversation, and I felt like a total square. But it's fine. Insert awkward sweater here. All of the sudden, life seemed to become more awkward; or perhaps I just became far more conscious of all of it. After inserting that wretched sweater into my life I went to Break the Fast. While waiting to be picked up, I ended up having one of the most awkward conversations of my life with this nice boy from my ward. Bless his heart. It was the kind of conversation where half way through I found myself saying things like, "No...my family is doing fine financially..." While my brain was thinking things like, "What the St. Francis?! Who asks that??" We discussed a realm of different topics. Such as my parents, and how they are divorced. I don't even know how that came up- but we talked about it. Quite awkwardly too I'll admit. Then I found myself explaining about my parents and how they are now both remarried, and going into more detail than I felt necessary to a total stranger. All the while having the similar thoughts of "What the St. Francis?!?!?!?!" running through my mind. We then proceeded on to my family's fiances, and how they are doing in these difficult economic times. This is when my awkward sweater began to suffocate me, and I stopped and thought about everything that had just happened. It was at this point in the conversation that I had to fight back the urge to fall over laughing. It was so amazing, and I had forgotten how much I secretly love my awkward sweater. No other article of clothing gives me so many awesome stories to tell. But that sweater was not ready to come off yet. There was more awkwardness to come. I found myself trying to generate conversations with people, but they all ended with me muttering and mumbling to myself awkwardly with a befuddled look on my face. What the heck face? I'm intelligent. I'm competent. Why can't I speak? It's the sweater, folks. It's all the sweater. Later at Break the Fast my peeps totally ditched me, and I was left all alone at a table with Jeff the Wizard and his magical card tricks. That too was slightly awkward. But I am not going to lie; I laughed out loud. Thrice. I heart my awkward sweater and all of the moments it gives me. You know those special moments where your shoulders scrunch up, and your faces goes into a grimace because guess what? Things just got awkward. And it's then that you realize how much you secretly rock and you take off that awkward sweater, and put it back in your closet for next time. So until next time, dear readers, thank you, and goodnight.

Don't Come A Knockin'

Okay, so this is awesome. I live in Chatham Square. And the apartments in Chatham Square are nice, but have this one little flaw. The walls are paper thin. I knew this already, but this morning just kind of reaffirmed the whole concept for me. So I don't work until 12:30 today, so I was getting a little extra sleep; it's fine. (Well... I was trying to at least.) When in the middle of my dream about being an adventurer on an alligator-infested river I hear this horrible pounding noise. What the St. Francis? It was odd. But I just keep on floating down that river, and all was well. Then that pounding comes again, and I realize that someone is pounding on a door. The problem is... I can't tell if it's my door or not. It's pretty bloody loud, and it sounds a little desperate, but I still wasn't sure, so I decided to go back to sleep. It's fine. But this wretched pounding went on for about 4 more minutes. And I'm thinking to myself, "What the heck face?" Clearly they are not home. Whoever they are, they are not home. But I was home; and maybe it was my roommate who forgot her key. Or maybe... I don't even know, so I stumble out of bed, take a quick peak in the mirror, realize that I looked like a crack-whore, and go to the door, hoping that it wasn't the missionaries. I look out of the little peep-hole, and there is no one to be found. What the St. Francis? Maybe they finally left. So I open the door and look outside; there is no one to be found. Oh, but wait- the pounding continues. It wasn't even on my floor and it woke me up. I was so mad. Clearly those brick walls are a bit deceiving. (I'm pretty sure it's really just paper!) It was so freaking loud. And that bloody pounding continued for another 10 minutes. I was highly tempted to run out there and scream, "NOBODY'S HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" But that could have been awkward, so I refrained. But let this little anecdote be a lesson to you. Don't pound on the door for 1o minutes straight. Thank you, and goodnight.

Powdered Milk?!

Okay, so after some serious reflection, my friend Shanae (who I'm kind of convinced is my twin that I was separated from at birth... it's fine) and I decided that parents think they are so sneaky. And granted, they have their moments of sneakiness. The whole Santa Claus sham bamboozled me for years. But then I wised up. So props to them for most of thier sneakiness, but sometimes it just gets out of hand. You know what I am talking about. Reflect back upon your childhood. Remember that time that your dad thought it was a little ridonculous that you HAD to have that bottle of evian water, so being the thrift, frugal, and sneaky father that he is, he fills up your old evian bottle with tap water. He presents it to you with a smug little grin, thinking that he has won this little round. But hold that happy thought, Dad. We can taste the difference between tap water and the mineral water straingt from the pristine peaks of the French Alps. Nice try, Dad. And to all of his conspiring and planning, all you have to say to him is, "Wait, what? Why is this tap water?" Or how about that time that you poured yourself a glass of milk to wash down that good ole' PB&J sandwhich. You taste it, and instantly your stomach curdles, becuase it tastes like no bueno mac & cheese. And that just won't fly. So after rinsing that rancid taste out of your maouth, your inform your loving (and apparently sneaky) mother that the milk is bad and you just threw it out. Upon hearing this, instead of a smile and a simple "thanks," she kind of goes ballistic and tells you that it wasn't sour, it was powdered milk. Too this, you in turn go ballistic, and wonder aloud, "Why are we drinking powdered milk??" Do they really think that we won't taste the difference? I mean really, come on. Take that sneaky parental fiends. We caught you. Can't pull the rug out from our eyes. Thank you, and goodnight.

Go Magic!

Okay, so I have turned into a true Floridian. Or maybe just a true poser. It's up to you to decided...and then keep to yourself. And this is why: the Orlando Magic are in the NBA Finals. Thank you very much. And I am highly excited- and rightly so. It's pretty exciting. Last night was game 1, and it was freaking awesome. We went over to Nate Pratt's casa and partied like rockstars. There were chips and burgers and blow pops all around. Equals happiness. Just so you know. So... I'm not going to lie... the game was kind of awful and the Magic may or may not have been an epic fail. Like 75-100 fail. But it's fine. It's only game 1; and we were in LA... It's totally fine. We'll get those pesky Lakers next game. (Don't I sound like such a good little fan? Next game guys! Next game!) So, considering that the game was such lame sauce game we decided to dance it out during half time. And what did we dance to you may ask? Answer=Backstreet Boys. Backstreet's back, alright. But it was freaking awesome. How I heart dance parties. Then, Shanae ended up in the pool, and I was so happy that that was one difference that we do in fact share... considering we are the same person. It's fine. All in all it was a fan-freakin'-tastic night. And I heart my life. It's fine.

Shanae and I getting our game faces on! We are some pretty hard core Magic Fans. Word.

Charlie, Shanae, and I. Love them.

The Magic may or may not have been loosing, and we may or may not have been really sad about it. It's fine.

Kobe Bryant Faces.

Hannah, the lone Laker's fan who also ended up in the pool, and her amazing deltoids.

So pretty much, even though we blew on game 1, I love the whole basketball thing. It's totally fine. I and can accept the fact that I'm a total poser, and were it not for the fact that I am living in Orlando during the finals, I would have no interest in them whatsoever. Don't even worry about it; it's fine. I heart life. Thank you, and goodnight.

Dale, This One's for You

So I have a new love. We have dance parties every Thursday through Tuesday. On Wednesday we tell each other our super secret spy cruses, even though we know that secretly we are meant for each other. He is always there to greet me; it's almost like he is saluting me. What a pal. We are pretty tight. We are practically living together. And by living together I mean he is plugged into the wall in my living room. It's fine. Yes, I love me some Dale. Meet him. I know that you too will love him.

The other night I was having a spectacularly craptastic night, and guess who was there for me. Yep- you guessed it. My love, Dale. Look at those caring, sapphire blue eyes, that crinkle right at the edges. And those rosy cheeks full of loving care and support. What a guy. Who wouldn't feel better. Then we shared some milk and cookies and life made sense again. Love him. Thank you, and goodnight.

Peace

Guess what I did today? I started working on my mission papers. And you know what? A peace and spirit filled my heart that I have not felt in a long time. How I love the Lord, and how I love this, the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. Thank you, and goodnight.

Anxiety Attack

Anxiety is gripping my heart. I have so many decisions to make, and quite frankly, it's stressing me out. A little bit a lot. But then I stop and think about it all, and I realize, wow. God loves me so much that he is giving me so many different options. All of which are righteous and good. The only hard part is trying to figure out which one is best. Oh, and that whole timing thing comes into play too. That's always a pocket full of sunshine. Why?! Why does God love me so much, and bless me with so freakin' much?? Oh snap. But you know, I was talking to my dad about it, and I realized that hey- it's totally fine. Because guess what? It's not like I'm trying to decide between marrying some loser or raising a child on my own. I don't have that problem. Count your blessings- name them one by one. And I'm not deciding whether to end life support or not... it's fine. See? Secretly these are all really easy decisions. I shouldn't be freaking out. Don't even worry about it. It's totally fine. I'm just going to be happy. Good thing God loves me enough to give me options. Thank you, and goodnight. 

A Few Things I Know:

Here are a few things I know: 

• Teal is a very scary color.
• Don't put liquid dish soap in the dishwasher.
• Sushi is good. 
• Life is like one giant surprise party; you never know when it's going to jump out and catch you off guard. 
• Friends are the best. 
• I will forever be a little bit awkward.
• I love my yellow rain boots. 
• Macs are better than PCs.
• Adversity is secretly the bomb.com because it makes you so much stronger. 
• I will never be gangsta no matter how hard I try. 
• Dating is the worst thing in the world. 
• I am starting to love 80's music. 
• I can do hard things. 
• Newton's 3rd Law.
• My family is awesome. With a capital AWE. 
• Always wash your face. 
• Don't smoke weed. 
• I could kick your trash at Twister. 
• I know how to operate a turnstile. Eat it. 
• God loves all of his children. 
• Kites only work when it's legitimately windy. 
• Spell check is smarter than me. 
• Animal Kingdom has the worst costumes, but the best names for restaurants. 

I just thought that today would be a great day to share all of my knowledge with you. Enjoy. Thank you, and goodnight.