I've all but quit blogging.

I've all but quit blogging.

I can't really explain why. It seems like I do nothing, and yet I'm hardly home, and I have not responsibilities but I'm always busy.

I've all but quit sleeping too.

I have friends that suffer from real insomnia, and that's not what this is. I can't really explain it, but it's definitely gotten worse over the past few months. I avoid going to bed. Whether it's by reading or watching hours of Hulu.com, staying well past my welcome at friends' houses, or cleaning the bathroom; I just dread going to bed before I'm stumbling sleep-drunk into my bed.

If I'm so exhausted that I already am having trouble keeping my eyes open, then I don't have to think, I don't have to make excuses or reassurances to myself. The song lyric, "I can't take this bed getting any colder," keeps running through my mind on repeat. And so I keep myself at the brink of exhaustion, because I'm avoiding a bed that I have to warm up all by myself. No one is waiting for me to come home. No one is waiting for me to come to bed. And I hate it.

The trouble with being tired all the time is...well, there are lots of problems. But the main one is, that my immune system breaks down if I am not getting adequate sleep. So when I started fighting against a head cold last week, I should have made an effort to get rest. Instead, I pushed myself to stay awake until 2-3 a.m., and in return, managed to make myself even more sick.

For the record, a peppermint bath is not a great idea.

Peppermint is a cooling sensation. Baths are supposed to be piping hot. The mixture of the two is the most strange, uncomfortable feeling. I probably could have boiled my skin right off my body without knowing it, because my skin felt as though it were freezing instead. I quickly gave that up, and spent the remainder of the day in my lonely bed.

I turned 27 this year, and while my lack of blog post may show my lack of enthusiasm for the whole idea of it, it should not be interpreted to mean that I am lacking in friends that made an effort to make me feel special on my birthday. So, I know I'm loved, and it's always good to be reminded.

The last month or so has been fairly difficult on my family. Times like these, I wish I lived closer. I'm not sure what I think my presence would accomplish. I just want to be a support and a strength to my parents and to my siblings. Not being there has felt selfish, because I don't have to live with some of the turmoil that has gone on. I don't have to think about everything that is staring them all in the face. I feel very guilty because I can turn my concern and worries on and off and they can't.

Again, so soon?

I revamped by blog again... I can't decide if I like it better than the last one, but I've been adding a bunch of different things to promote Unrealized Dreams and I'm still loving the design feature on blogger, so... it had to be done.

I was also going to take a minute and update on some things, but life plugs on and nothing really new is going on. I vow to go to bed early every night, but then decide that 9 p.m. is too early to actually retire, so then I start working on something: writing, cleaning, movie, etc. and I miss my bedtime by about three hours. So, I'm still getting to bed between midnight and 1 a.m., instead of 11:00 p.m. like I plan. And I still have a ridiculously hard time getting up in the morning, even when I think I've gotten enough sleep.

I don't know what it is about rational thinking in the morning, but all logic is lost. I barely comprehend that my alarm - nay, three alarms - have been going off for over an hour. And when I finally do understand that that is what the racket is (assuming that I've heard the noise at all) I somehow haggle with myself as to how much more time I get to remain in bed. Trust me, it always seems very much on the up and up to get a few more, or twenty, minutes of sleep when I'm laying there wishing it were Saturday morning and I had nothing to do.

Of course, when you read posts like yesterday, you might begin to understand why I enjoy sleep so gosh darn much. I mean, just think of the movie-dreams I get to "watch" while I'm asleep. They're exciting! And free!

Or, I guess you can't consider them free, because when I am running late in the morning, technically they cut into my work hours, which means I am being paid less....

On that logic, I'm paying more for my dream-movies than I would a regular movie. Which seems really stupid, now that it is not 7:30 a.m.

Hey! Does anyone want to go see a movie with me? I really want to now that I am thinking about it.

Sunday Nap Dreamin'

Meghan tells me all the time that I need to go and see a doctor for my box problems, among other things. She goes and sees doctors a lot, so she knows all about them and referred me to a man that worked in this huge corporate office. When I got there, Meghan came in for my appointment and was busy handing out the many tests that she thought the doctor should be administering. And all these weird paper covers, even though I never removed any clothing, and the covers wouldn't have prevented anyone from seeing anything. Paper covers like a vest thing and one the size of a small washcloth with a hole in it... moving on.

The doctor and Meghan were up to something fishy that relied on them sneaking information from one spy to the next and during my appointment, I was able to go and help. We sneaked down to the lobby of this huge building, exchanged strange looks to this young, pretty receptionist with a side pony, and then as she got up to leave her desk, she dropped her pen. The good doctor was able to pick the pen up for her, offer it back and somehow in between it all, he had switched pens. On the way back to his office, they hopped on a secret elevator that was behind the regular elevator. Of course, I was not agile enough to make it on the secret one, and I rode it mostly dangling from the edge, managing to pull myself up just before the wall cut me in half.

When we got back to his office, the doctor recorded the necessary information, and then it was time to return the pen to the evil lady. Apparently the bomb information was written on a paper inside the pen. They were going to bomb the hospital - where we were, and we needed to evacuate everyone.

I was put in charge of returning the stolen information, so I went back downstairs into the lobby and into a little glass office where I ran into a small Peruvian cleaning woman who was crying in the middle of a puddle in the corner bathroom of the office. She told me how she was going to get in a lot of trouble, and how she wasn't allowed to speak to me and how she had a bulbous nose. I told her that she did not, in fact, have a big nose - it was quite small, and I told her it looked like a small tulip. (?) She smiled at that, and I helped her to her feet. I was just about to return the stolen information when the owner of it returned to her office and asked what I was doing.

"I can't believe I ran into my old friend!" I said, giving the maid a hug. "I haven't seen her in so long, and I was just giving her my number," I quickly tried to write on her arm, but it was dry and cracked and I only made it to 937 before I gave up, replaced the pen and told the cleaning woman that we needed to go.

When we left, it was suddenly not a bomb that we were worried about, but they had learned to anticipate large earth quakes, and we were in for a BIG ONE. Unfortunately, we were also standing outside the hospital where an LDS temple was the neighbor.

I stood across the street from the temple, wishing that the cleaning lady and I were endowed so that we could go in. People were pouring into the temple, and I knew that was the safest place to be, but I also knew we couldn't go in. So we started looking for another way out. Somehow, we ended up in the parking garage, and then had to run for our lives as the parking garage began to collapse all around us. People were being squashed under the massive amounts of concrete. Including my cleaning friend.

I ran back to the doors of the temple, looking in, knowing I would be safe there. Finally, a worker came out, he was praying, asking the Lord to forgive him for desecrating His holy house, and then opening the doors to all her were seeking refuge. They asked us to stay in the lobby, but then eventually gave people to wander around at will. I made my way into a small theater room, where my friend Tyler sat watching the video that they supposedly show during a session. (However, I know for a fact that this is not the film they show, as it had chariactures of Adam using Eve as a speedboat trying to get her pregnant and the video was talking about polygamy and having many, many babies... moving on.)

When the temple workers realized that I was watching the video, they turned it off and told me that the earthquake was about to begin. I went back towards the doors and stood next to Muslims, of all things, and we watched as the hospital collapsed all around us from the tremors. The temple held strong. We didn't feel anything.

There were still people on the outside, refusing to come into the temple, and the building, parking structure and bridgeways fell onto the people and crushed them. There was so giant split in the earth, which we were happy about. But the news showed cars who were out seeking the danger and driving over the shockwaves, celebrating when they made it out alive.

The earthquake was over, and I felt guilty for being in the temple, so I tried to go out, and when I did, I was told that once I left, I would not be allowed back in. I wanted to find my family, and so I opted to go out. Minutes later, the second wave of earthquake began, and it didn't matter which way I ran, I was in danger of being crushed by concrete.

I was truly terrified for my life and pouring sweat as I ran and continued to run, cursing my stupidity and leaving the temple when I should have stayed.

I was just about to be crushed by falling concrete when...my cell phone went off and I was pulled back into reality where I sleeping in the sun, with heavy down blankets on me, sweating. Whoa.

Friday Night In

After a long week, sometimes it is nice to go off the map and watch a movie in your apartment alone. Which is what I did tonight. I haven't done the best at going to bed early this week, so I thought I would try tonight since my movie ended around 10:30 p.m.

When I went into my room to change into pajamas I noticed two things: lightening and the sound of rain. And a really awful rock concert going on somewhere in the vicinity of my bedroom window. And while the rain is optimal for a good night's rest, the terrible music was not really what I would call a lullaby. You would think that the rain would be damaging to the electrical equipment. I wanted to yell out the window for them to SHUT UP! but thought the better of it because 1) they wouldn't hear me and 2) as it is Friday night, they are typically entitled to rock out all they want until Midnight. I had flashes of thoughts of me partying all hours of the night and not caring who was around trying to enjoy the last two episodes of Justified on their enjoyable night in, and who am I to ask they respect me for just trying to do the same?

So I've been trying to keep myself busy, and I have been very successful. The "concert" probably ended over an hour ago...and sadly, the rain did too.

Still, I find that 1:00 a.m. is a great time to clean the bathroom. And now I even feel like my Friday night has been productive as well as relaxing. Even if I am only now getting to bed...

My Bed

I live in BYU housing, and therefore sleep on a BYU housing bed. I try not to think about it too much, but the truth is, probably tens to hundreds of people have probably slept on this same bed. Here at Single Tree #5, my bed seem particularly old, and worn. Which means, it isn't comfortable.

In order to make it bearable, I have resorted to the following:

9 pillows
3 fitted sheets
2 foam pads
1 flat sheet
1 comforter

and on occasion, one blanket dated some 20+ years.

Even with all of this, I wake up and have to do some pretty interesting cat-like stretches in order to get all the cricks out of my back and the tension out of my shoulders.


And despite how utterly uncomfortable my bed is, I still don't want to climb out of it when any one of my four alarms go off because when I'm as tired as I've been the last few weeks, it sometimes seems like my bed swallows me up and doesn't want to let me go.

Tempus Fugit

Why is it that while sitting at work with little to do I can look at the clock and it is 11:38 a.m. and I feel like I've been there for about four hours already instead of just two and when I look at the clock again, knowing that it has to be three at least, it is really only 12:01 p.m.

But when I decide to get ready for bed at 11:15 p.m. so I can fall asleep early, one minute in front of the mirror or a quick email check or just a minute talking to my roommate and WHAM it is 12:21 a.m.

How does that happen? What sort of natural phenomenon/cruelty is life playing at? I know it's called managing my time better - but then again, if it only feels like a minute, how am I to know it is really 40?

For reals though, I am trying to get to bed early...so this is a short post before I climb into my sorta-comfy bed. (Thanks to a trip to Walmart that started at 1:00 a.m. and what seemed to only last for 40 minutes, but somehow I got home at 3:20 a.m. - Seriously, how does that happen?)

Ah, well... as they say in Latin: Tempus Fugit. (But never when you want it to.)

Shattered Knees and other Ridiculous Things

I quickly went through my nighttime routine in order to get to bed as soon as possible, but I think that I have to record how ridiculous the last 5 minutes have been. Besides, it should also be noted that I got ready for bed in just about 5 minutes... which is quite a feat, as I am easily distracted. I was tempted to just skip washing my face and brushing my teeth, but luckily, I accomplished both.

First of all, I shattered both of my patellas tonight. You may not believe me, but I'm sure there is a hairline fracture somewhere in at least one of them. There is certainly swelling. And swelling means fluid. And ugly bruises. I thought that my knees would bleed, but they haven't because I didn't really break the skin. Just the bone... but that is what falling onto solid ice does to your bones. I mean, not to Olympians' bones - they must drink lots of milk. But when I got cocky, and started going way faster on my ice skates than I had any right to go, it was only a matter of time before I fell. I made it around once without incident - why did I have to be greedy and try for a second time at personal record-breaking speeds? I tried, and failed. And my knees have been throbbing ever since. Even with the Tylenol Becca gave me afterward.

Also... I pretty much need night vision goggles to get safely from one side of my room to the other. Not that my room is very big. And I shouldn't be admitting this, but the truth is, I need a pogo stick to get through my room. It hasn't been clean since.... well, since I moved in. But that's because I haven't really moved in yet. I still haven't figured out where I am putting all of my clothes, and so they have just sort of taken residence on ... yes, the floor. I know, It's bad. That is on the agenda for tomorrow. I mean today.

So, while hobbling through the small, magical path from my door to my bed, I realized that I am in big trouble because my bed is practically on stilts. It sits atop two cinder blocks and is high enough off the ground that I have to CLIMB onto it in order to sleep. Usually, this is not a problem. Tonight, my swollen kneecaps protested to the point where I was laughing at the pain. It hurts so much - is so uncomfortable - that it made me laugh. A really, really awkward, twisted sort of laugh. But not loud enough that the roommates could hear me. (Don't worry.) And once I climbed onto my bed, I was not going to risk climbing down, even though I know that my phone is still in the pocket of the pants that I wore tonight. I had wanted to set an alarm and wake up early enough that my day could be fairly productive... but if I get down, then I have to climb back up...and really, I don't think I can handle it. I know, I'm a wuss.

So here I lay, in my bed...and luckily my laptop was at a reachable distance. Typing, but too lazy to even look at the screen and freezing, but at least I put my blankets back on my bed this morning, instead of having to need to climb down in order to get the discarded covers.

If you need me in the morning - early afternoon - you should know that I will not get my phone. I probably won't hear it, and even if I do, I anticipate my knees swelling to the size of small melons and my muscles to be sore from ice skating...so the likelihood of me getting out of bead is "not very".

To do or Not to do

Finals are here again.

To do:

• Study my brains out
• Pack
• Move stuff over to Roberta's (where I'm moving to)
• Clean
• Laundry

Things I've actually done over the last few days:

• Co-thrown Kira's bridal shower
• Celebrated Chris' birthday
• Discovered a new movie: Under the Greenwood
• Worked on my book
• Packed 1/2 my clothes
• Cleaned the bathroom
• Took a bath
• Took 1 final
• Finished ALL my classes
• Made an S CD for Kira
  
• FTC
• Had my handwriting analyzed
• Located a lost favorite book
• Cleaned out the trunk of my car
• Made arrangements for a couple trips: Here I come OHIO, CALIFORNIA, NEW MEXICO, COLORADO, and IDAHO!!!
• CURSED at the SNOW!!!
  
• Turned down free Shirley Temples and a trip to get yogurt...all for the sake of studying
  

I foresee a problem.

Guess I'll get on it, right now.

In need of a human alarm clock

My blog has been boring as of late. Every time I think about posting, I'm immediately interrupted by the 289374 things that need to be done. Granted, I maybe only do .5 of those things, and so I should have time to update a blog...but you get the point.

The biggest problem in my life right now is waking up. Waking up? Don't I know that people used to wake up before the sun rose everyday and probably had the cows milked and the chickens fed long before my puny alarm has even considered going off? Don't I know how easy I have it now that I am going to school and NOT working?

Well, yes. I do. I know all of this. But it seems that no matter when I set my alarm, it doesn't go off! Or rather, it does - apparently my roommates have their own personal concert every morning - but I don't hear it. It doesn't matter that my alarm and my phone with an alarm set, sits on my PILLOW with me every night. You'd think I would hear it. You'd think that it would go off and scare the covers right off of me. But, no. False. I hear nothing.

Crickets.

Not even that. Silence, like in a black hole.

I don't need a bigger alarm clock. Although, I have thought about investing in one of the alarm clocks that shakes the bed, too. Have you seen those? I couldn't get the alarm that hides from you, because I don't think that would solve the problem of me not hearing it.

No, what I need is a human alarm clock. One that PUSHES me out of bed when it is time to get up. I think a rude awakening like such as my head hitting the floor is the only thing that is going to get me out of bed in the morning. So I'm taking applications.

Our Miraculous Bodies

As I was walking to my car yesterday, and before I discovered the stupid parking ticket given to me by Provo City, I was thinking about how amazing our bodies are. Actually, I was thinking that if I were to trip and fall while walking with my eyes closed, I would probably not try to break my fall and that I would probably not try to get up. I would instead just lie on the sidewalk and take a nap.

But really. We put our bodies through some pretty extreme things. People go to space and survive incredible accidents. During wars and conflicts there are all sorts of things people adapt to endure starvation and confinement - it's amazing. At school, we program ourselves to go with as little as sleep as possible. Like, days, without sleeps. Full nights running on energy that just happens to be there - or, more likely, fueled by Heath bars and chocolate cake, caffeine, and...well, anything you can stuff in your face because if you are eating then you aren't sleeping. We're so used to not sleeping that our bodies can pick a chair, a corner, a bench, or underneath a stairwell and you can fall asleep for a few minutes or up to an hour and wake up just in time to make it to class.

Lots of my friends are pregnant right now. And my sister just had a baby. Pregnancy has to be one of the most extreme conditions are body goes through. The changes that occur; the sickness and the heightened senses... I don't know because I've never experienced it, but it's pretty crazy. It's like we're oysters growing pearls. Only, we're better than oysters because instead of growing some precious stone (is a pearl a stone?) we're growing live human beings. Pearls probably don't give the oyster heartburn, and the oyster definitely couldn't feel the pearl when it has hiccups.

Yup, the body is amazing. No wonder Satan is so jealous he doesn't have one, eh? We're truly blessed for what we have - even if we were given slow metabolisms, oily skin prone to breakouts, and hair where we don't want it.

Losing My Mind!

It is supposed to be a figure of speech, but recently, I can't help but feel that I have completely lost my mind.

Point #1
I typically get lost. That is just how it is. However, in the last week, I've gotten lost SEVERAL times when I was going somewhere I've been before. I went last weekend to IKEA to purchase a chair. I've been to IKEA several times and have never had a problem finding my way, or getting home. Yet, somehow, I managed to find myself completely lost, in the dark. I still am not sure where I was, though I think it was just at the base of the mountains in Salt Lake somewhere. Where ever it was, I was sure I was going to end up in Wyoming. I didn't, in case you were wondering. I thought I was in Magna, but I looked that up and I wasn't there either.

Point #2
Part of my routine in the morning is straightening my hair - if just my bangs. Also part of the routine is turning said straightener off. In the last week, I've managed to leave the straightener on 4 or 5 times. This is abnormal. Also, I typically respond to reminders - and yet, Ashley has reminded me over and over again, and I keep doing it.

Point #3
I have NEVER left my lights on. And yet, in the past 3 days, I have forgotten to turn them off 3 times. On Friday night, Ashley told me that my light was left on in the car (I don't really think it was that time because...well because my car actually started when I came out the next morning and the switch was in proper position). I didn't go check, because I forgot. But then, when I got home late Saturday night, I checked to make sure my lights were off and went into my apartment. When I woke up Sunday morning, my car was dead. Apparently, I had not checked my lights. They had been left on all night. In my haste to get to church, I left my KEYS in the ignition and caught a ride when a couple of girls from my ward. After spending 45 minutes recharging my battery, I headed to American Fork for a mission farewell and open house. At the open house, someone announced that MY car had its lights on. Seriously.

Point #4
I don't speak well. Usually I pride myself in having fairly intelligent speech. The last few days my tongue has been tied in knots. I hardly know what I am saying anymore.

All of this proves that I am losing my mind. I am sure that there are those out there that would tell me to get more sleep...well, I have no reply. Perhaps I am not losing my mind, and in fact, just killing it from lack of sleep.

Is there a thing called Fatigue Stupidity. I think I have it.

Observations

One of the points of writing a blog is to allow people to get to know you. Things that the reader may never learn with basic interaction can be unfolded through a small posting at 2:21 a.m., and really, I think it is the most fun this way.

As I traverse through this life of mine, I am prone to introspect and learn things about myself, that I don't think others would know unless I really told them. Some of the more embarrassing discoveries, I'll keep to myself...for now, and others, I will share.

1. I fall to sleep with my hands by my face. I don't know when this started. I can't remember having always done it, but I was watching a movie or something and some incredibly untalented actor pulled her hands to her face - resting just under the cheek that lay on the pillow, and I thought...no one sleeps like that. Untrue. I sleep like that. In fact, I wake up with my hands uncomfortable swollen and asleep because they have been smashed by my face. It's most comfortable for falling asleep (especially when my fingers are a bit cold, the coolness feels marvelous on my cheeks) and most uncomfortable when I awake. I continue to do it, regardless.
2. I absolutely abhor getting ready for bed. It's why I'm still awake at this hour. If I could just crawl into my bed, sans brushing my teeth, wrestling with the decision to don the retainers or not, washing my fact, etc. etc. I would. But as it is, I have several things before actually retiring that must be done, and I am avoiding them. I've been a procrastinator my whole life - I don't see why my bedtime routine would be any different. (I know, Dad, it's retarded. Really. I do, understand...)
3. My life plan changes almost daily. Have we had this discussion before? I'm sure we have. Currently, I am set to graduate after spring term with a B.S. (this is ironic to me, as I have always prided myself in being able to spout all sorts of BS for essays, papers, etc.) of Geography in global studies. However, since I will not be attending grad school (at least not with the current life plan), it is very difficult to say what I will be doing next. Perhaps I will attempt to get a job at an airport, so I may fly for free. This is a brilliant idea. And then I want to attend nursing school so that I would work as a labor and delivery nurse. I think that would be marvelous. And then, I have thought that perhaps I would like to go to hair school. I think being able to do hair is quite a talent and skill that I just HAVE to have. Can you imagine the benefit of being able to do your daughters' hair without forking out $80 every time? Plus, you meet friends at school who are able to do your own hair, or at least, you learn how to do it so you can do it yourself. I have a hairstylist, and she is fantastic. However, she is in Michigan; and I don't know that we'll ever live in the same state again. It would certainly be convenient if I had someone else I trusted to do my hair. Besides, wouldn't it be great if I could figure out what to do for Mackenzie's hair? I think so. After that, maybe I'll get married. I've always thought I'd be married by now. Of course, I never wanted to admit that I was one of those girls that would get married at 18 or 19 and begin popping out babies. That wasn't really the reason I came to BYU. But...actually... I could have just been lying to myself. It has been noted, that I have been quite ready (or at least in my head have been) to be married since I was 16 or something. I quite fancied myself to be in love with Elder Jensen, and had he not had a girlfriend waiting for him when he got back, I think we could have married. HA! Well, in my head we could have.
   
4. I absolutely detest a filthy bathroom and a messy kitchen. However, I thrive on the clutter in my room. I don't know what it is. I like not folding my laundry and not putting it away. I detest laundry. I only do it because I LOVE the smell of clean clothes, and frankly, because it is gross not to. Really. Clutter does not bother me, though. And I can not - for the life of me - understand how someone who loathes clutter can tolerate a spotty faucet, footprints in the bathtub, or crumbs on the kitchen counter. It is beyond fathomability. (Obviously not a word, but I think I like it...)
5. It doesn't take a lot to gain my admiration. I'm really quite conceited (something I never realized until just now.) I. Am. Conceited. Hmmm... imagine that. I am incredibly self conscious, and often possess a low self-esteem. But I like when people talk to me, and more importantly about me. I don't own a lot of life experiences, or grand stories. I am not often witty and funny, and only know very minor details on things that would be considered intelligent conversations. However, I like to talk about myself. Much more, I like when people show an interest in me. I realize that this is basically innate. But some people like it more than others, and I think that if anyone wants to win my affections, they merely need to take the time to ask about me sincerely. Case and point, my roommate's boyfriend. He has made it a point to question me about a certain guy I like. Not every time I see him, but often enough to check the status and recent developments to show that he cares what is going on in my life. My old bishop remembered that I had had a bishop that didn't remember my name, ever, and so he would go out of his way to make sure I knew that he knew who I was. I was thrilled. The Mexican guy we delivered Christmas presents to last night, tried so hard to include me in the conversation by speaking English, even though he COULDN'T (I had to mentally turn on my brain to try and understand what he was saying) and I was so completely touched by his sensitivity. And, this conceit is the only thing that allows my crushes to linger for longer than a fleeting second.
6. I am a romantic. I know you all know this. I have made absolutely no attempt to cover it up. I try to balance my...sheesh, is there even a word for it? I try to balance my wild immagination and heart's desires with practicality and a more realistic sense of what life is about - what love and marriage and companionship is about. I try. And there is a side of me that knows. I know. I know that life and marriage and having a family and love is complicated and hard, and work. I know that things are not perfect. And life is not magically transformed when you meet the person you are going to marry, or when you marry said person. I know that people don't really feel their bones dissolve with a simple kiss, or quite literally feel butterflies for the rest of their life. I don't even think that there is such thing that getting carried away with some passionate moment... I mean, it sounds so cliche. But still, I can't help but hope... but think... one day. It has to happen for me. Right? That's why it is taking so long. And by so long, I mean that of course, why it hasn't happened by the time I turned 19. After all, I'm sure that my soon-to-be 16-year old brother has had more experience with girlfriends than I have with boyfriends. (Not something I should admit to cyberspace, on a blog read by my parents and grandparents...but I can't help it. You have to feel a bit of pity for a 23-year old girl duped by her much younger brother, right?) And so... it has to happen. One day, I am going to be blissfully happy with some man (a REAL man) that turns my knees to jell-o. And if you don't believe that, keep you opinions to yourself. I can't think otherwise. Not yet. Maybe if I'm 40 and unmarried, I contemplate thinking something differently. Until then...
7. Church starts a half hour later tomorrow than normal. I am not sure how this half hour change is going to make all the difference as I am now going to bed at a much later hour than I ever should contemplate before attending church. I shall retire immediately...that is, after I've brushed my teeth, convinced myself NOT to pick my face despite its looking like that of a leper, wrestled with the decision to wear my retainers (I think not) and washed my face, etc. etc.