It's Clearly A Muttation, Sent By the Capitol to Destroy Me.

It's around four in the morning. I can't sleep. I'm afraid to leave my room even though I'm thirsty. But I don't care. I just finished Mockingjay. I read the entire Hunger Games trilogy in under 72 hours. As much as I've heard others complain about it, I'm more than satisfied with how it ended. I feel accomplished.

But the real story here is why I'm terrified to leave. Not until morning, anyway.

There was a mosquito in my room. 

I can handle spiders and other creepy crawlies, but I hate hate HATE mosquitos.  It was huge, which means it's probably a mosquito-eater, and my mom says those are harmless. I still don't trust it. Can't. I'm wearing shorts tonight and have no desire to wear any additional clothing.

 My plan to get rid of it was brilliant--at least to me, and I've devoted the last three days to a stack of almost magnetic novels, ignoring most impulses to eat and sleep. I waited until the vile thing got away from the door. This took some time. I tried to will it back to hell with angry words, but that only drove it to the light switch. OhgoshIhadtotouchthat.

Soon it went to the ceiling and I made a dash for it, turning off the light behind me. The hall light went on, then the dining room, hoping that the darkness in my room and the light outside of it would draw the thing out. There was no sign of it in the hall, but a quick sweep of my room shows it wasn't there. I sat down in front of the computer and start to turn on a podcast--I'm a few days behind on the news. All of a sudden, the mosquito flew out from under the computer and into my face. I screamed and ran into the hall. My parents were angry when I told them that the noise had been because of a mosquito, but they were too tired to do anything but go back to bed.

Then I saw it. I got it into the hall. I ran back into my room and locked the door behind me. But if I leave, it  might come back in.

No, the books haven't made me distraught. Or paranoid. Not at all. I just need a back massage...okay, or maybe some sleep.

Oh no. There's something buzzing in here.

Plus it has Jimmy Fallon on it.

‎"Vanilla bean ice cream with a salty caramel swirl and fudge-covered potato chip clusters." 

It doesn't sound as good as bacon ice cream, but I'm still interested. If this is the kind of food I think sounds good now, what monstrosities will I try when I'm pregnant one day? 

Oh, goodness, let's not think about that today.

Odd Literary Cravings

You know what I really want to read? 

Don't judge--I'm not expecting it to be a great American novel; but I do want to read something light and silly. Plus, I'm genuinely curious to see if Snooki can write. There may actually be some talent underneath that pouf. Think about it--lots of great writers were drunks. 

What's the Word for When You're Opinionated in a Good Way?

I'm taking a journalism class this semester. Today we had a discussion about the core principles of what defines journalism. We briefly talked about how journalists should keep their opinions to themselves, and some don't even vote to try to stay unbiased. As a political science major, that hurt my soul a little bit. 

I have a lot of opinions and I enjoy discussing and sharing them. I could more easily become a Catholic nun than keep them to myself as part of a full-time job. It made me kind of glad that it's only a cluster (half a minor), but this will definitely be my most challenging class this semester. As much as I like it, I have a hard enough time writing in general, but long impartial news stories? It's a daunting task and I'm terrified of it. 

But I suppose college is about stepping outside your comfort zone to grow and stretch and become better at something you enjoy. So I will, for these few classes, set aside my tendency to make quick judgement calls and unhealthy desire to always be right for the sake of journalistic integrity. Then I can go back to my major and argue ideology and policy to my little heart's content. 

I'm Pretty Sure This is What I Did Today.

2008-The only time I intentionally slept on the floor.

I got up early this morning to do homework before class. I do better work first thing in the morning. Then I managed to stay awake through all my classes. I got a few things taken care of in the afternoon before I woke up on the floor. I don't know how long I was out or even what happened, but I'm feeling okay now. It's just frustrating that I don't remember a lot of my afternoon. I hope this doesn't happen again, but I'm going to try not to be home alone for the next little bit.

In other news, I submitted this picture to Jones Soda today. I don't remember actually doing it, but I got an e-mail back from them saying it was a "staff pick" and that they'll send it to the judges. If the judges like it, they'll put it on a real live Jones Soda bottle. That would make me...very happy. Go here to vote on it, if you please!

Technical Difficulties

The plan was to return to Rexburg, edit all my pictures from the end of the semester and break, then do this big post about how awesome my California Christmas (and other holidays) were. But no. Billy's USB cord is nowhere to be found, along with my pillowcases. But when that cord turns up, I promise to chronicle:

• How the Marines are too cool for mellophones and other things I learned at the 122nd Annual Tournament of Roses Parade
• How I plan to not get diabetes in 2011
• Matching pajamas
• Jazz covers of songs like "Smells like Teen Spirit"

Long Live the "Vote for Change" shirt worn ironically.

Because of the awful weather, I didn't drive back to Rexburg. I flew! The flight was fine, but the shuttle from SLC broke down. It was awful. I pulled out the only time-passer in my bag whose batteries wouldn't die--my scriptures. I laughed when I got to D&C 121:10-- "Thou art not yet as Job." I felt better then. I did skip my morning class, though.

My tripod and camera remote are here! So despite how I looked today, I HAD to test it out. Chelsea's in this picture giving me a weird look, but I cropped her out on her request.

Okay, I haven't been completely honest about my summer.

I loved my job. I really did. But spending so much time by myself and my inability to handle stress  made me feel awful. I was doing great at work, but I still felt like I was failing, and I couldn't figure out what was wrong or how to fix it. That's when I got my sunburn. It didn't help the depression. Nope. Made it worse. I got behind and my body couldn't keep up with my brain or my to-do list. and my stress kept going up and up. It was a minor miracle I got out of bed and went to work every morning. A bigger one when I got caught up or made it through the day without crying. I moved back in with my parents about a month after the scary thoughts started.  But I didn't feel any better. I started getting up earlier to work longer hours, but I could never keep up. I was still alone. I stopped eating. My work got worse and the pressure kept building. I never told anyone but my dad what was really going on because I was ashamed. I thought it was pathetic that I couldn't keep up because I was stressed and sad. I thought that I should have been stronger than that, you know? I still don't think it's a good excuse.

Now that my workweek is under 50 hours and I have roommates again, I'm doing a lot better. I really am.  And you know? This summer really was a blessing to me. I earned enough money to pay for my own school this semester. I made good friends in an amazing ward. I got to know my Savior better. Hopefully, I grew up a little bit.

The Skin Chronicles

I grew up with a firm belief in my own beauty. I remember being asked to sum myself up in two words in 1st, maybe 2nd grade. I chose "smart" and "pretty." When I was nine, I began to break out. I didn't notice. I knew that acne was just what comes with adolescence. My mom bought me a lot of products to try to help, and I thought they worked okay. I knew that acne was just what comes with adolescence. I had no clue why it was such a big deal or why my doctor started prescribing stronger stuff. I really, truly did not understand how bad it was. 

2006

It got to the point where we had to bring out the referral papers and I started seeing a dermatologist. I went on Accutane in late 2006. When my skin started to clear, I realised how bad it had been before. 

2006 (photo by Jill Rich Photography)

2007

Then I  knew I was pretty.

About a six months after my last dose of Accutane, I began to break out again. I went through the same process all over again, complete with another six months of Accutane. It was harder this time around because I knew what I was "supposed" to look like. 

2008

My acne left a little more scarring this time around, and it didn't stay perfect for as long. But it's never gotten as bad since.

2009 

(Dang, I look like my mom here!)

Now I deal with adult acne by actually taking care of myself. (Ya hear that? I'm an adult.) This works pretty well. I'm also going to try a DIY egg white mask I saw on the internet. I don't even know if I'm going to post this. But I do know what even with my less-than-perfect skin, I'm still pretty.

July 2010

Lessons I Learned (or Re-Learned) This Summer

1. When there's a job to do, get it done. 
2. That said, it's still crucial to eat three meals a day and get more than 4 hours of sleep a night. Even when you think you're too stressed out to do either.
3. Crying is not a sign of weakness.
4. You don't need a whole lot of things. They cost money.
5. Singles wards are going to have their awkward moments. Embrace them--they'll be great stories to tell later.
6. Handle situations like a mature adult. 
7. Living alone isn't that great.
8. Daydreaming about the impossible is fine as long as you can understand and accept the impossibility.
9. The Atonement isn't just for sins, but for sickness, sorrow, and pain.
10. For the love of all that's holy, wear sunscreen.

Wait a Minute...

You never know what could set you laughing on the inside all day long. Today, it was this shirt.

On this boy.

And he wanted to show me how to drink from a water bottle. And watch cartoons on my iPod. And read Dr. Seuss. And "help" with orders. And everything else the world has to offer a two-year-old.

Or this kid. He asked if we could have a party when he found out that we would be the only ones home tonight. Luckily, his idea of a party is playing Super Smash Brothers Brawl on the Wii.

I felt like baking today. It's nice to be at home where my mom has a KitchenAid and a convection oven and everything I need for chocolate cupcakes and buttercream frosting. (I always bake from scratch!)

 (Okay, the blue and yellow frosting came from a can. But it was fun to decorate some of them!)

Geez,how did this turn into a Mom Blog? I'm only 18! Just look at this post--it goes from toddler to eight-year-old to baking completely effortlessly. I think this means I need a date. Or at the very least a girls' night out. Or a life in general. Anyone who wants to help in this effort will be compensated in dumb jokes and baked goods!

Hysteria is a Symptom of Spring Fever.

I had always been under the vague impression that when Spring came, you would wake up one day to a warm green world, a little rain, and that snow just kind of disappeared.

Nope. Thanks for lying to me, California.

This much snow melts slowly and it floods the sidewalk. The grass underneath it is brown and dead.

I've found that Spring is a bit like adolescence. It's totally different than what you expect. Things are changing at a crazy pace and you're not sure what's going to happen next. You start shaving your legs. Under the right conditions, you want to wear as little clothing as possible.

I will admit that I'm being a tad obsessive about Spring, but this Winter is just driving me up a wall! When I left devotional today to find it snowing, I totally lost it. Maybe you heard me.

"Spring starts in March! WHY is it snowing? I hate seasons!" 

"Spring starts March 20," explained Jenna.

"Shhhh. It's March."
 At this point I realized how loud I was when a lady passing by sweetly told us about how when she got married at the end of April and it snowed that day. I quieted down after that. (Yes, I can be a bit of a drama queen...but you haven't seen anything until you've met my youngest brothers!)  I went home, changed into something warmer than a dress, and looked out the window. More snow. I had had my fair share of outrage for the day, so I just tried to ignore it. Thank goodness for the Rexburg blog. It reminds me why I didn't stay home.

Thank Goodness for the First Amendment.

Hey there, Federal Government.

Do you have a problem with my being born?

I think you do. I've had the same birthday for the past 18.5 years. It says so on my passport. It says so on the birth certificate that you never sent back to me when I got my passport.

What the heck kind of birthday do you think I have if I can't file my taxes with it?

You're lucky my political ambitions pretty much end in Sacramento.

The Deep End Has Driven Me Over the Edge.

This is a post about my new favorite TV show because I have a horrible habit of watching too many shows.  (Who said that?) But while researching a little for this post, I found out that ABC is canceling it. That's right. Canceling it. I am not happy at all.

 

 The Deep End is about a group of first-year associates at a high-end LA law firm. There are three main reasons I like it.

3. The cast. It's hard to tell from this picture, but it includes Tina Majorino and Norbert Leo Butz (who you musical junkies know as the original Fiyero in Wicked!)

2. It's clever and cute and it makes me wonder why my seminary class always pegged me as a future attorney. 

1. It takes place in my beloved Los Angeles! Because of this prime locale, it touches on my beloved Los Angeles issues (things like pot dispensaries, no tolerance weapons policies in schools, long distance relationships, etc.).

ABC is officially on my List of Severe Condemnation. (I try not to keep a Hate List, so a List of Severe Condemnation is about as close as I can get.)

Stranger Danger

Skype is a wonderful tool. It's a video chat application. 

Today I learned what happened when you set your availability to "SkypeMe!"

What happens is that 29-year-old Algerian strangers and see your picture and start IMing you, telling you how "beuatiful" you are. (Seriously, your first language is french. No excuses for spelling "beautiful" wrong, man!) It's a wonderful opportunity to practice your french, but you get truly creeped out. So you lie to Samir the law clerk. It's true you're a student and want to be a photographer and you go to a Christian university, but your name sure isn't Mimi and you certainly don't attend APU.

He wants to add you as a contact. You try to say as nicely as you can that you don't talk to people you never met in person online, that the whole SkypeMe thing was an accident, that you have to go. 

I'm okay with people I don't know reading my blog or seeing the pictures I take, but being accosted online by strangers is near the top of my "dislike" list. Anyone looking to Skype to meet girls is a creeper, no matter what. Using a dating website is one thing (3 of my uncles met their wives online), but Skype? That's like MySpace creeping--I deleted mine last summer because I was sick of creepers. If you want to meet people, go out and get a life!

So be careful out in Internetland, boys and girls.

Jesus Camp

This semester I'm taking a Sociology of Religion class. I love it. Today we watched a movie that kind of summed up a lot of what we've been talking about the past few weeks: things like ritual, symbols, and emotion.

Yep. Jesus Camp.

It's a documentary about an evangelical summer camp. You couldn't help but love those kids. Like 9-year-old Rachael, who approached a woman she didn't know in a bowling alley to remind her that God has a plan for her. Or 12-year-old Levi, who is so excited about the Gospel (as he understands it) and looks just like Tyler Hudrlik, but with a mullet. But everything else in the movie just gave off the same vibe as watching The Fourth Kind--something that is clearly not of God is going on there. It's just as terrifying to watch these kids--not one of them older than fifteen--crying, convulsing, confessing sins, speaking in tongues with fear and shame in their eyes as it is to watch a psychologist be abducted by aliens.

It made me think about my seven years at Girls Camp. (YES, seven. I went back as a cook last year and I might be a cabin mom this year.) And my one week at EFY two years ago. How different they felt! Yes, there were tears there, but they came from a very different emotion. There was no anger, no shouting. Just quiet testimonies and powerful hymns. An acquaintance of mine said that watching Jesus Camp fueled his already staunch atheism. He was just as angry as that lady preacher in the movie was when she told the radio host that more parents should indoctrinate their kids. Me, I'm just grateful that I'm lucky enough to have the fullness of the Gospel and the absolute peace it brings. Maybe one day those darling children will have it too.

The Quote-A-Day Prophesies

I got a The Office quote-a-day calendar for Christmas. 

Monday, 18 January:

Baked 7 dozen cookies. 

"We were fighting the power and eating whatever we wanted." ~Stanley

Tuesday, 19 January:

Pulled fake engagement scam on my family and friends.

"When Michael told us that Jan was pregnant, he led us to believe that he was the father. By telling us that he was the father." ~Jim

Wednesday, 20 January:

Went to bed BEFORE midnight. 

"People expect a lot from these meetings: laughter, sudden twists, surprise endings...You need to be Robin Williams and M. Night Shyamalan. You need to be 'Robin Shyamalan.'" ~Michael

Thursday, 21 January:

I'm so glad nothing happened today that had anything to do with the quote.

Ryan: That's me and my friend Jasmine from Thailand.

Pam: I don't want to look at your friend Jasmine's boobs all day.

Ryan: You could be hot, too, if you made any effort at all.

"I have a Fifth Sense. It's like I have ESPN or Something."

You know what I don't understand? Girls.

Not the way my brother Dallin* doesn't understand them. More like the way Lindsay Lohan doesn't understand them at the beginning of Mean Girls. I grew up with all brothers and mostly guy cousins and lots of guy friends and smart girlfriends. I can only think of two major instances of drama since 7th grade--one caused by a crazy "friend" and the other by a mom who jumped to her own conclusions about my motives. I did my best to handle it maturely and things were worked out in a timely manner. But I've recently become aware of some sort of secret girl code involving the rules of drama and crap like that. And apparently I've broken some recently.

Personally, I think it's pretty much the dumbest thing in the world. That whole culture is based on the assumption that every other girl is a petty slut. I'm glad I don't speak Girl. I'd rather speak Woman. Or Audrey Hepburn.

*A worse sister would include a picture from his first date last month. But that's Mom's job.

Insert Musical Pun Here*

I hate feeling like a hipster. You know those kids.

"Hipsters are the friends who sneer when you cop to liking Coldplay. They're the people who wear t-shirts silk-screened with quotes from movies you've never heard of and the only ones in America who still think Pabst Blue Ribbon is a good beer. They sport cowboy hats and berets and think Kanye West stole their sunglasses. Everything about them is exactingly constructed to give off the vibe that they just don't care."

— Time, July 2009

They're the ones who say "I liked _________ before it was cool."

BUT. I still have to say that I LOVED a cappella music before it was cool. And I'm very excited about "The Sing Off." My aunt Chami recommended it to me. And the music is awesome. But just like other competition shows, they simply HAVE to tell the story to fill up screen time and capture the hearts of America. No. I hate it.  I don't care if you're older, I don't care if your wife had the swine flu, I don't even care if you go to BYU. (Did you SEE that girl's hair? It was awesome...if only I could get away with that in Rexburg.) Just sing to me. Please.

*I had a really good one, but I don't think it would go over very well with my readership (i.e., my mother, her friends, and my aunts and cousins)

ATTENTION

My life is generally a drama-free zone. When y'all have YOUR drama, I will remain neutral under all but the most dire circumstances. Especially since more often than not, everyone involved is at fault.

I've done this before and I'm prepared to do it again. Go ahead and vent. I'll listen. But don't expect me to take your side. I'm everyone's friend.