on losing.

Today, my brother lost. I have not seen him lose a wrestling match in about a year. (Of course, I do attend college about 2000 miles away, but that's beside the point.) Anyways, he lost. And in order to occupy my mind so I didn't get too offended at his mood, I thought about losing. Losing is tough. It sucks. But losing is surprisingly informative. You learn what you love when you lose. (Now, if losing it is what made you learn that you love it, I'd suggest you learn that a little quicker next time.) Do you think he would have been so upset if he didn't truly love what he was doing and didn't want to succeed? No. Whether it be a wrestling match, a scholarship, or a person, you learn what you love when you lose. Sometimes you have to lose. But losing, as terrible as it may seem, can also teach you how to win. You'll figure it out someday if you haven't already.

we have a dog?

"That's how the Lord works. You lose your cat, you find your dog." My mother is convinced that our cat (see this post for pictures) is dead. That's right. DEAD. She hasn't been seen for the past week or so. Anyways, during said past week, a dog has started showing up on a road we take to get to church, school, etc. On Christmas, my mother said, "If that dog is there, that's our dog." And there it was. So for her, this was divine intervention and that dog was ours.

Let me tell you a little bit about myself and pets. I am not a fish person. I am not a gecko person. I am not a cat person. I am probably not a dog person, either. My father is allergic to dogs, so we never had one growing up. It was a stretch to even get the cat, which eventually was kindly asked (thrown out) to live in the garage anyways. But when my brother called us yesterday saying he had finally gotten the dog, we drove to meet him... And there was the dog, trailing my brother in the car. Evidently, he's natural at dog whispering and this is fate.

...Which is why it ran away before my mother could get back with the dog food. But alas, today it followed my brother home again and is currently sleeping in a blanket on our back porch. Maybe it is fate after all.

i love my job.

So, I don't get personal and go into sappy details much. But this time I have to. I want to tell you about my job. It is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

When my friend mentioned this job to me, she called it "glorified babysitting." Having been a nanny, I knew I could handle it. But this job was different... Special. I am a respite care worker for a child with autism, and he chose today to be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Today is also his 18th birthday. When I sat down behind him, he kept turning around and grinning. "Hi, Hannah," he said. This is the second time I've ever heard him say my name. He doesn't talk much. It's tough to get him to drink a full glass of water sometimes. Last time I was over was the first time he's brushed his teeth without my help. He likes to watch baseball, which I know nothing about. He needs help going to bathroom and changing into his pajamas. It might seem tough to get through to him, especially when he doesn't make eye contact with you. But when he does, you can see that this boy is special. Throughout the entire service, I found myself wiping away the tears streaming down my face. Seriously. Cried my eyes out. This boy is special. And so is the gospel we share. We read the scriptures together and pray before I tuck him into bed. "I love you, T." I say. I know God loves him too. The way that God loves each of His children is almost tangible to me sometimes. This boy is special, and I am beyond grateful to have him and his family in my life.

a day late...

I am thankful for...

My family. My roommate/sister. My other family. TV shows. Music. My fingers. Cake. Turkey. My water bottle. Curly hair. Jeans. Cowboy boots. Little kids. Temples. Scriptures. The Atonement. General Conference. Donuts. A great metabolism. Heat. Warm showers. Blankets. Socks. Babies. Nail polish. Pink lipstick. Churches. Pianos. Cellos. People who become your best friends. People who change your life. Angels. Good examples. High-top Reeboks. Leather jackets. A car. My job. Children with autism. Audiometers. My major. Fun classes. Good grades. Chick-fil-a. Airplanes. Christmas. Dresses. Braids. Bracelets. Happy people. Jokes. Smiling. The knowledge that everything will be okay.

surprise!

So. I came home for Thanksgiving. Which means I am currently laying in a queen size bed that I did not have to scramble over my desk to get to. (Yup, I'm top bunk back in the Bubble.) It was my mother's idea to not tell my dad that I was coming home today. He was surprised. So here I am. Home.

Coming back home is a reminder of past things. In the past, I used to get caught up in the trap that is my own head. We've all been there... When you are confused, you might look for direction from any source that seems to wave its arms in front of you. But let me tell you, there is really only one source that can give you true and right direction. So I'm sticking with that one. I am firm in my knowledge that everything will be okay. I write that in my journal at least once a day. But it's true. I know it, and you should, too. And I'm going to leave it at that.

election day.

Tomorrow is Election Day. But guess what? I already voted. So sneaky.

Here's my thing about politics... I hate talking about them. HATE IT. So this is all I'll say. It is my personal belief that no matter for whom you vote, your president is your president, and he (Or she... Clinton 2016! Just kidding.) should be respected as such. And that's it. Happy voting, ladies and gents.

flirt shamelessly.

"Flirt shamelessly," she said. My own mother. "Flirt shamelessly." Of course this was a follow-up to her previous comment: "For a girl who hasn't been on a date in a while, you should be flirting." To which I replied, "Mom, I can't just flirt with a man..." She didn't let me finish. "Flirt shamelessly," she said.

Let me tell you something about me. I can't just flirt with a man. There are reasons for this.

1. I am terrible at flirting. As I may have mentioned in a previous post, I am terrible at flirting. Did I mention that I'm terrible at flirting? I was notorious for this lack of skill with an old friend of mine, who would never cease to present me with YouTube videos with flirting tips any time I would come over to his house. I just can't do it unless I know the person with whom I am flirting, and if I am flirting shamelessly with said person, our relationship is more than likely 100% platonic. At least to me.

2. I have a special talent for encouraging male friendliness. Maybe it's the face that I am known as "The Porcupine," but any time I show so much as a tooth in the direction of the opposite sex, consequences often include a deluge of male friendliness. I am terrified of male friendliness. Okay, let's just chalk this one up to paranoia about male friendliness.

3. I would rather say no up front than go through the process and make things awkward and have to say no later. This is the opposite philosophy that some of my other female compatriots have. They may say, "YOLO," or some other modern-day colloquialism that takes me months to work up the courage to search on Urban Dictionary, terrified of the fact that it's something inappropriate. (I'm an innocent soul deep down, what can I say?) I am incredibly anti-confrontational. So maybe I just figure that if I feel like I should turn him down in the first place, we just weren't meant to be. (Side note: I would have to actually get asked out to turn someone down.)

DISCLAIMER: I have a tendency to do all of these things, including shameless flirting, embracing male friendliness, and YOLO when I am in love. But, as that is not the case right now, this is my current opinion on the whole "flirting shamelessly" thing. Or maybe I'm just bitter about being single. You decide. So. There you have it. Tonight I will settle down in my pj's and leave the shameless flirting to Rory and Jess.

everything is going to be okay.

And that's all that needs to be said. Don't forget it... Everything is going to be okay.

strangers no more.

So. You know that one person that you see everywhere that you kind of know but aren't sure if they know you? To begin, you should probably know that I have a creepy memory. I remember scary things about people. And considering the small world that is the college I attend, I can make a connection to almost anyone I meet. My roommate complains that every time we're walking around, I'll point out someone and tell her a random detail about their lives that they may not even remember themselves. I'm a creep. So what?

Anyways, back to the story.

So there was this girl. She was in my freshman ward. Never spoke a word to each other. Sophomore year, she shows up in my Psychological Statistics class. I switch majors. Apparently she does too, because she also ends up in my Intro to ComD class second semester. Still, never spoke a word to each other. This year, she's in two of my classes and my ward again. Still... No words spoken. I know all of these things, but I always doubt that other people are as afflicted by creepy memories as I am. I convince myself that I am the most awkward person in the world. One day, I walk into the library. I sit down at a computer. The girl next to me turns to me. IT'S HER. We have this entire conversation about all of these things that I remembered that she did too. And she wasn't creeped out by me. We now wave to each other in class and at church. Seriously. Such a relief. The end.

clarity.

All is right with the world again. Basically. A lot of prayers and questions have been answered, and for those that haven't, there's a whole lot of faith going on over here. And that's all I have to say about that. Things are going to be okay. I'm sure of it.

gratitude.

Well, it's been a very interesting semester thus far. To say the least. And I have just been so grateful for some things, namely...

1. My roommate. She is fantastic. I think one reason why she is fantastic is because she is so easy to talk to. She and I are similar in some ways and different in others and we very often keep each other incredibly sane.

2. Home teachers. In our church, we are assigned people to look out for us. Our home teachers came on Sunday and the roomie and I both felt like we should ask for priesthood blessings, so we did. These wonderful boys don't even know us, but are trying to make it through school and work and so many other things, but they took the time to take care of us in that small way and speak for the Lord. It was amazing.

3. Good friends who are willing to turn around and go back to supermarkets when I leave important things like my planner in carts.

4. General Conference! Seriously. Loving it.

5. Hot showers... Remember when I whined about having such a cold shower? Well. One of our roommates woke up in the middle of the night with the brilliant thought that we should check the temperature on the water heater. Man, oh, man, did I feel dumb then. Anyways, HOT SHOWERS. I will never take them for granted again.

yup.

I have two words for you: COLD SHOWER. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Let me explain my plight to you. 1. Our air conditioning doesn't really work. Since we like to sleep in clothes, we open our window at night. Things are starting to get a little chilly at night, so in other words, we wake up to a 55-degree room. (That's Fahrenheit, people.) 2. COLD SHOWER. And my laundry evidently didn't dry last night so I also had a cold, wet towel. Mmm. Oh, the college life.

In other news, my love life is just about as nonexistent as the last time I mentioned it, for those who wanted to know. Man, those were the days.

serenbe (chattahoochee hills), ga.

Since my photography is not Facebook-worthy or professional and I usually take the same kinds of pictures over and over again, they will now be dumped here while I make the 30-hour drive back to the bubble of a community where I attend college. So... Enjoy.

the biebs.

If I hadn't sworn off those of the male persuasion who would choose to woo me with song, I would totally fall for any guy who sang this to me.

Just sayin'. And yeah, it's Justin Bieber. Judge me.

sing it, aretha.

Some friends will love you. Some friends will not. I had an experience with a "friend" a few years ago. We were hanging out late at night and his plans were to hang out with some of his buddies and bring me along. They weren't really doing something that was in accordance with my beliefs. And said "friend" spent most of his time doing this something instead of spending time with me. Maybe I was selfish. But the lesson I learned is that if he were truly my friend, he would respect my beliefs and would be okay with maybe taking a break from this thing for a night. Respect, people. The good old r-e-s-p-e-c-t. If someone loves you, he or she will respect you. 'Nuff said.

in which i discover that i need a life.

Man, oh, man. Oh, man. (This post has nothing to do with men so if that's what you're looking for... Sorry.) Remember when I came into my room to try and pack for my upcoming cross-country drive happening in about a week? The plan was to blast the Biebs (not literally, I mean his music) and get everything all packed up in the big suitcase so I can live out of the little one for a week. Yeah, not happening. That was thirty minutes ago. I have run into a problem over the past few days and it is this: every time I check my phone and there are no texts, I shout, "LOSERS," and throw it back down. As if there were people whose duty it is to text me and make sure I feel appreciated. Newsflash... There are not people who have this duty. It's been decided that I need a life. Thank goodness said life will most likely appear magically in about two weeks when I start school and have friends nearby who are not married or obligated to hang out with me because they are my mother. Hallelujah.

i am DYING.

Okay, a little dramatic. Really dramatic. But there is this nice little nagging pain in my chest that has been there since, oh, about May 25th at about 6 minutes past midnight. It will probably go away in approximately two weeks. This summer has been a little bit of H-E-double-hockey-sticks. (Yeah, dramatic again. I got you.) But seriously. It has probably been the longest summer of my life. Which is not to say that there have not been good times. I love hanging out with my mom, and we have gotten to be great friends this summer. But, nevertheless, it has been a long summer of waiting. In two weeks, it will be over. Hopefully, I will have some answers. Hopefully, I will be able to move forward with my life instead of waiting. I hate waiting. Waiting is not living life, so it must be dying. Right? Not so dramatic after all, hmm? So for now, while I wait, I am hoping. Hoping that I will go on adventures. Hoping that I will make good grades. Hoping that I will get better at... well, everything. Hoping that I will not be scared. But mostly, I am hoping that everything will work out, and I will be truly happy. Someday, people. In two weeks, I will not be waiting anymore, and I will be able to move forward. Two weeks from today will be my someday.

As a side note, I am officially fed-up with Pinterest. It's like it's flashing all those wedding dresses in my face just to haunt me. Cool, guys. Now I'm being haunted by an image-sharing website. I need a life. Two weeks, people. Two weeks.

i am embarrassed by...

Pinterest. There, I said it. I have never been a Pinterest supporter, but recently I got one. And I am embarrassed. Mostly because the only reason I really wanted one was to pin things for a wedding. Which is not in my immediate future, seeing as how I am dating no one, and I have a huge crush on this boy who will not date me. But I am excited for the prospect that every little girl has... The secret hope that someday, it will be me. This summer, it has not been me. It has been my best friend, my best friend's brother, three other childhood friends, four girls from my freshman hall, a teaching assistant I worked with, and a random girl whose reception I went to just to check it out. It's like they're waving it in my face. So many cat lady jokes were again brought to the table tonight, as my brother has made it his mission to infuriate me to the point of matrimony simply for the sake of ridding myself of his taunting once and for all. I think it's working. Know any single guys? Just kidding. Kind of.

If you are reading this, you are sworn to secrecy. I'm serious.

just one of those days.

Anyone else hate but also love looking at engagement pictures? I want to vomit and grin stupidly at the same time. Man. What a conundrum.

In other news, the cousins are here. Yes, THE cousins. I only have four, as my father grew up an only child and only one of my mother's siblings has children. Once a year, she invites them to stay for a week. It is during this week that all our knockoff-brand Fla-Vor-Ice pops disappear like wildfire (Can I use that?) and no DoubleStuf Oreo is safe. I'm off to guard my stash.

As a quick side note before I go, let's just appreciate how fantastically convenient these two ginormous hair clips are.

Dang. My neck is scrawny. That's it.

we have a problem.

I will try and lay this out for you as simply (and vaguely) as possible...

I am completely in love with a boy with whom I should definitely NOT be in love.

As you can see, this is an issue for many reasons. The main one being that WE AREN'T SPEAKING TO ONE ANOTHER. I am hopeless. Did I mention that he turns me into an absolute psycho? Because I am one-hundred percent delusional right now. That is all.

happy birthday, pj.

PJ was the best cat ever. Tomorrow, he will turn 25 in human years. I loved that cat to death, but... I had to let him go. So... Wherever you are, PJ, happy birthday. If you showed up at my door, I'd probably still let you in. Anyways, without PJ, my only feline companion is this lovely 40-pound compatriot.

Pretty sure these are the only two positions I've seen her in in the past 5 years.

classic west palm.

We're at West Palm Beach for the week. Some golden moments...

M: "Charity. Otherwise known as... T-PLOC."

J: "Well, I saw these girls so I followed them around for a bit but then I think they saw me so I got scared and came up here on the elevator."
me: "Why didn't you say hi?"
J: "I'm not weird like that, okay?"

Me: "M, there are no trick questions in real life."
M: "You're stupid. Answer that."

Me totally not noticing the crotch-hole in my brand new pants until after dinner and shopping. Smooth.

"I don't get sunburns... I just get really painful tans." --J

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my family.

home.

Driving gives you a heck of a lot of time to think to yourself about nothing in particular.

1. Missouri is called the "Show-Me" state. Umm... What exactly are we showing here, people?
2. Nebraska's motto: "Equality before the law." So... An eye for an eye? Haven't we moved past that?
3. I miss my best friend.
4. I've been a terrible example to my brother... I text in the car. (But only when I need to! It was my mom, okay?) Anyways, he texts while he's driving, and let me just say that I have this theory that men can only think of one thing at a time, and he didn't prove me wrong this weekend.

Other highlights...
1. The bright blue- and yellow-painted Baymont that smelled like curry.
2. AmEx thinking some crazy person had stolen my card because I never use it on Sundays, and especially not to buy gas in three different states. (It's understandable. Also, can I mention that I hate outsourcing?)
3. Much better storms than the piddly ones we get in Utah.
4. Lots of Coldplay and Mat Kearney.
5. HUMIDITY. My hair is having a heyday. 

That's about all you need to know.

P.S. I'm HOME.

oh, brother.

Is it normal for your laptop to smell like it's burning? Cool. Thanks, Dell. Spring term is over. Hallelujah, because I could not handle any more weeks like the last few. Complete and utter torture. (Okay, maybe a bit dramatic. But hey, I'm a girl... I'm allowed to do that.) Anyways, here is my bro of a brother, Oakley sunglasses and all. The three of us will be road-tripping across the country this weekend. Wish us luck. Actually, wish me luck. And sanity.

life is good.

One major perk of not having a boyfriend: doing your makeup and hair however you want. Will your lipstick smudge if you get kissed? No. Will your bun get messed up if you cuddle? No. Because those things aren't happening. Duh. So, behold.

Okay, so the other pictures are all terrible. On another happy note, guess who's getting a better grade than she thought in Anatomy? This girl. Life is good, people. Now on to final #2, packing, and leaving to drive across the country all in the next 36 hours. Party on.

P.S. Maybe it's just because I'm a self-professed girl now, but this video almost made me tear up today. Thanks a lot, Katy.

dear DN.

Dear DN and other Facebook partiers,

STOP SENDING ME THINGS ABOUT CLUBS ON FACEBOOK. Have you met me? Do I club? (Here's a hint... The answer to both of those questions is no.) I don't think I've ever had a real-life conversation with you. I don't know why we're Facebook friends. I used to creep on you and your girlfriend because you would post cute statuses about her, but I think you guys broke up, so basically love is a sham. Do you directly benefit if I mark "attending" on that Facebook event? I really don't think so. Furthermore, I don't even live in the ATL anymore, so in order to attend these events, I'd have to fly about 1876 miles. Do I look like I want to do that so I can go to "Girls Gone Wild hosted by Club Opera"? Negatory. Do I look like one of said "Girls Gone Wild"? I'm really hoping that this post will somehow send you stop-inviting-me-to-clubs-on-fb vibes, because I don't even know you well enough to say any of this to you. Have a nice life. And stop clubbing, it's gross.

Your Facebook friend (and that's about it),
HNS

me and my mad game.

I showed I-15 some lovin' this weekend by heading up north twice. Once to pick up M, and once to hear one of my besties give a farewell talk in church before she heads off to Taiwan to serve a mission for a year and a half. And I'm not one of those crazy Facebook chicks who has an album entitled "me <3" with about fifty pictures of herself posing in front of her bathroom mirror in a tank top and booty shorts, making pouty faces at the camera, but hey, I liked my outfit on Saturday. And I wore my hair up, which I never do. I hate posting pictures of myself, but this one is acceptable. So you're going to have to look at me.

My brother is in the next room over right now. My youngest brother J and I are similar, but M is not like us. He doesn't worry about things, he actually has athletic skills and isn't a total klutz, and he "spits mad game." J and I do not have "mad game." My friend JT used to love showing me a different YouTube video every time I went over to his house. One time something like this was waiting for me...

Now that is some quality advice. Good grammar, too. I probably could have used this in middle school, since my sixth-grade boyfriend is now gay. But don't worry, ladies. There is hope. Just fall into him.

i am a girl.

Contrary to popular belief, I am a girl. With emotions. And a heart. AndsometimesItearupduringbirthingvideosinanatomy. (Gross, right?)

Boy: "Whoa... There are some girls are crying in the back!"
Me: "Yeah... Some people are so dramatic..." Sniffle.

Of course, I only teared up until they started showing the whole kahuna. (Yeah... we saw it all.) That dried up my lacrimal glands real fast.

i know more about your body than you do.

Seriously. I do. Ask me what nerve controls mastication? I'll tell ya. The muscles that move your thumb? Easy peasy. That bone in your foot that's hurting? I've got it. But put me in a room with a lab final, and I freak. Evidently I am completely incompetent in room 334, because I did not get the grade I wanted. Two qualities that don't mix well: perfectionism and self-deprecation, with a hint of overanalysis. Let's be real. I studied a lot. I knew my stuff. Or did I? Did I do everything that I could have done to study for this final? Well... No... So it's my fault. I should have known better. Right? Or do we just accept it like it is, like it was supposed to happen like this? (This is when you know it's bed time.) Such is life. Such is my freakish brain. (Including all 12 cranial nerves. I can tell you all about fetal development of the brain, too... Want to hear that?) Well... At least I was able to tie a pretty good-looking bow, right?

bloggy blah blah.

So. As you may know, I'm a freak. I have some strange habits. One of which is that I have a tendency to avoid people. I'm quite good at it. There are certain techniques to this. For example, you can calculate angles and speeds so that you happen to be in the perfect position just barely behind a very tall guy when you would have passed someone you know but don't want to talk to. You can also take different routes if you happen to see someone you know. There's also the age-old texting trick. I have a strange radar for awkward situations, and for whatever reason, they give me anxiety attacks. Yes. That's right. I'm pathetic. And super-awkward for having anxiety over awkwardness. Today I sat in my car for a few minutes instead of going to anatomy lab. And lo and behold, who should pass by but a couple from one of the blogs I read? It's a nice blog. And by nice I mean I live vicariously through her because I have no life. She's cute. Her husband is cute. Blah, blah, blah. So with all this cuteness passing me, did I jump out and say hi and thank her for her cute contribution to the world like a polite little blogger friend? Negatory. I just sat there. I am probably the coolest person who will ever not say hi to you.

the happenings of today.

1. Learning the reproductive system in anatomy. (Also affectionately known as "pornatomy.")
2. Poking a girl in anatomy with my pencil (on accident) and her not noticing.
3. Totally dropping my water bottle while holding a baby and spilling all over myself, completely sparing the little tyke.
4. FINALLY getting an apartment for the fall.
5. Cutting my own hair when it's ticking me off.
6. A letter from a good friend.
7. Pink lipstick.

a slight mysophobe.

Number of times I have spilled hand sanitizer on myself this weekend: 3.

Number of times I have used hand sanitizer this weekend: infinity.

Look, just because you're a little obsessive-compulsive doesn't mean that your inner klutz doesn't rear its ugly head every once in a while. And yes, this is really what my hand sanitizer says. I embrace it.

habits.

I am a creature of habit. Seriously. Come with me to Subway, I will get the same exact thing every time: a kids' meal, which consists of a 4-inch turkey sandwich on wheat, toppings of provolone cheese (toasted), tomatoes, spinach, onions, and cucumbers if I'm feeling crazy, with oil and vinegar and salt and pepper, apple juice to drink, and two cookies, one sugar and one chocolate-chip. And if I go to Pita Pit? A wheat pita with turkey, tomatoes, spinach, onions, cucumbers, and hummus and a tomato-pesto vinaigrette. Wild, right? Apparently it takes about 21 days to make something a habit. But what about breaking a habit? Does that take 21 days as well? I submit that it does not. Breaking a habit, especially a bad one, can take forever. Sometimes a fluke happens, but I've had habits that have taken years to break. So the moral of the story is not to create bad habits in the first place. Like... blogging and thinking about other things when you should be studying. Happy Friday, people.

daily theories.

Let me be real with you, I love spring term. I wish I could cram all of my college experience into half the time so that I can get a job in my field of study and move on with my adult life. Which brings me to Theory 1 of the Day: I Was Born Thirty Years Old. I was reading picture books (with words) to my younger brother at three or four years of age. A time-out meant that I would sit in a corner of my room and entertain myself by planning my day. I would like to get into the field of Communication Disorders as soon as possible, but I'm sitting in class right now. "Are you paying attention?" Dr. H asks the class. "No..." I say to myself. Which brings me to Theory 2 of the Day: Some People Are Riding a Higher Current of Learning and I Am Still in a Tide Pool. Seriously. Have you ever met someone whose brain just doesn't work like yours? Dr. H is more of a genius than I could ever dream of becoming. The only hope for the rest of us mere mortals is to read the book and hope we pass the test. Which brings me to Theory 3 of the Day: For Some Reason I Keep Getting Better Grades Than I Think I Will. Accounting 200 (aka The Dumbest Decision of My Life) involved three tests. I failed two of them. And when I say "fail," I mean lower than a 60. Have you met me? I do not just fail things. But this... I knew I was going to fail. So why try? (Yes, it was one of those apathetic semesters.) And I got a B in the class. Either our school system is totally whack, or my theory has evidence behind it. (Let's hope that this continues to prove itself over the next two weeks as I finish up midterms and take finals. Especially because I have no idea what's going on in class since I've been typing this the whole time.) So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. I am a 30-year-old nerd in a 15-year-old's body (seriously, I've been asked which middle school I attend) whose real age is technically almost 20. And I'm spending my summer in a kiddie pool of knowledge. Peace out, Napoleon.

on pregnancy.

No, I am not pregnant. (Don't worry, Mom.) But I recently watched "What To Expect When You're Expecting." And except for a little bit of adultery and crude humor, it was pretty hilarious. I laughed, I cried, the usual. And halfway through the movie, I was thinking to myself, "Wow, it will be so fun to someday be married and have kids." WHAT? Have you met me? Obviously, there is some very good acting in that movie because I came back to reality this morning and realized that pregnancy will be total purgatory. I am absolutely terrified. Now, children I can handle. I'm a nanny every once in a while when I feel like I am capable of taking care of myself so much that I can take care of other little people, too. But carrying a small person INSIDE of you? Now that's a different story. I woke up this morning and laid in my bed on my stomach thinking about how much it hurt to breathe with my abdomen sandwiched between my other internal organs and a mattress. Then I thought about what it would be like to never lay on my stomach and still have the pressure of not only my internal organs, but the little baby organs of a little baby, and a little baby, all squishing down on my respiratory and digestive systems. Did I mention I also have asthma? "Oh my gosh," I thought. "I'm never going to be able to get a full breath again. I'm going to faint like five times a day from lack of oxygen to the brain. I'm going to go into premature labor on a plane. While I'm unconscious." (Don't ask... I have this terrible ability to imagine the worst outcome possible of any situation.) Not only is not breathing terrible, but do you know the many ways that a pregnancy can go wrong? Seriously. Something as simple as the blastocyst implanting in wrong place can mean that your baby is not growing in your womb, but your stomach. So eat and breathe up, ladies. This may be your last day to do so. (Unless you're not married like me, Mom. Trust me, I have plenty of days/years until I have children. Chill. Don't call Dad. I'm still your little girl... Who squished your organs for eight months. Sorry about that.)

summer has not begun.

Technically, the season we call summer has not begun. And neither have the joyous times that usually accompany the warm weather. Number of times I have actually worn a swimsuit outside: 1. Number of weeks I have spent peeling dead skin off my legs: 2. (You wanted all the gory details... right?) Unfortunately, my summer has not begun, because I am still in the lovely state of Utah. Today I wore a jacket to church and was still cold. Of course, this may be because I am always cold, but I like to think that it's Utah's fault. This week, I am grateful for LJ. On Friday, we had plans to go to a cadaver memorial service for the bodies that we work on in Anatomy. But... Upon arriving at the cemetery, we decided we would much rather go to City Creek, where we drowned our sorrows about school, boys, etc. (but mostly boys and school) in retail therapy. Did I change in a bathroom stall into the jeans I had just bought because my funeral-appropriate dress was ticking me off? Yes. Did I buy a hair wrap that I will probably never wear? Yes. Did we eat an unhealthy amount of Peachie-O's? You betcha. But every once in a while, when the sun isn't shining (both literally and figuratively), you just do what you want.