Build a bridge and get over it.

I'm a horrible person. I feel like every day, I realize this more and more. I am judgmental and intolerant. So I've been compiling a list of things that really bother me, because if you read all these things and pretend they bother you too, you'll realize that you don't like yourself for it and you'll know how I feel on a daily basis!

But really, whenever someone asks me what my pet peeves are, I have no idea what the heck to say. So a few months ago, I got the idea to start writing them down when they came to me. Here's what I've got so far:

1. When people apologize for needing to walk past me. For some reason people feel extremely sorry when they brush past me, or they think I'll get mad or something. All you need to do is say 'excuse me.' I promise I will not get angry.
2. When people start off text conversations with "Hey." A wise woman once said, "Starting off a text conversation with 'Hey' is like starting off an essay with, 'I am writing a book report on Lord of the Flies.'" ...In fact, I'm going to revise this and go as far as to say that I hate texting conversations in general. If you want to get to know me, talk to me. If you want to tell me you'll be here in 5 minutes, you can text me.
3. When people wear running shoes to school. I don't know why but this is really something that I just cannot stand. I will make a judgment about whether or not I want to bother getting to know someone solely (heh) based on what shoes he or she is wearing. Okay. Running shoes would be acceptable if, say, the person had actually been out running, realized she had class in 5 minutes, and ran straight to school instead of going home to change and showing up absurdly late. Fine, I would say. Sacrifices have to be made occasionally for scholastic purposes. But this is never the case. It's always Nikes paired with jeans or yoga pants or whatever I don't even care just STOP IT PLEASE.
4. When people take something out of the microwave before the beeper goes off and then leave without pressing 'stop' or 'clear.' You know, the button that restores the actual time of day to the microwave instead of leaving it blinking '00:13' at you for the next ten minutes.
5. When people say, "I could care less" when they really mean "I couldn't care less." There is a huge difference. And while I'm at it, I may as well say that I hate all grammar mistakes, including the ones that I make. You have no idea how much it bothers me that I don't always use correct grammar, or worse, that I don't always know what the correct grammar is. Gah. Worse feeling ever.
6. When I'm talking with someone I've recently met and he or she says things like, "I'm the type of person that makes friends with everyone" or, "I'm the type of person that everyone gets along with." Really? Because I'm not getting along with you.
7. When people don't close the fridge all the way. I'm 100% sure that I get this from my dad, who made a sign for the freezer in our garage that reads, "Please, for Daddy's mental health, LOCK THIS DOOR!"
8. When people feel no remorse for having woken me up from a nap or any form of slumber. This just ticks me off. I'm really grumpy when I don't get enough sleep. The least you could do is apologize.

That's enough for now. But do you see what I mean? I'm just awful. I've tried to be patient and understanding. I keep my devilish thoughts to myself, at least (with the exception of writing them all down here), but I still think them and get upset when people break any of Bronwyn's Rules for Life that they didn't know about because really, it's just how I wish people would behave.

Maybe I should make a sign. I'll write 87 more of these babies and post them on the wall of a church.

...Or maybe I'll just take this 8 year old's advice. Probably the latter.

FINALLY.

BYU likes its students to make things official, and no, I'm not talking about students meeting, dating, engaging, and marrying in under 3 months. I declared my major today! Well, yesterday I guess, since I'm going to post this tomorrow, but I'm writing this Monday night and I just did it this morning. I'm officially an English Language major! Wooooo. Also, my academic advisor is so talkative, hilarious, and just straight up likable. I have the feeling I'm going to make an unnecessary amount of appointments throughout the rest of my college career just so I can chat with her some more.

Sooner or Later

Sometimes there are too many coincidences for me to believe that they are all coincidences.

On Saturday night, Courtney and I worked out. This was probably the fifth time in my life I have seriously worked my body, and I am still suffering the consequences. But that's not the point. After gym time, we went to her apartment and somehow winded up watching a bunch of really mushy engagement videos and videos of girls seeing their missionaries for the first time in two years and kissing and adorableness and love and blah blah blah ew. Okay.

But that's not how I really feel. Secretly my heart aches for that, for something honest. Something to look forward to. Someone you can share everything with and he won't judge you, not even a little bit. He'll just love ya. This is so weird -- I never talk about this; I never admit it. I'll admit to having crushes and silly little things because they can be easily brushed off and forgotten. Wanting to be loved can't be. I think I've made some serious strides though. I think I've been able to open my heart to possibilities. Maybe. Too bad having the capacity to love someone doesn't mean you'll have the opportunity to.

Remember that time I told myself I was going to go to sleep at 9:00? What even happened? Oh, I just started thinking. My brain got busy and my body obliged. That's really starting to become detrimental to my health.

In case you ever wondered what kind of music I listen to when my mind gets on the midnight train to Thinkingville, it's things like this:

Even if it kills me

As most of you don't know, I'm doing the whole 30 with Jennie and Sadie. Along with a long list of other things, we're not allowed to eat any extra sugar. Quite remarkably, I have had almost no temptations! Eating healthy has been so easy.

That is, it was so easy -- until last night. First of all, we had FHE at the bishop's house. Jennie and I ate dinner beforehand so that we wouldn't be hungry. But of course there was dessert. And of course the bishop's adorable seven-year-old daughter, Abby, who adores me and whom I adore, came up to me with a huge bowl of cookies and cream ice cream (one of my top five) drizzled in chocolate sauce and topped with Oreos and said, "Bronwyn! I got two spoons so that we could share!"

If that wasn't enough, on the drive home, I got a text from Michael that said: "Crepes at our place around 9:30. Be tharrrrr." What the heck. I ended up going, but before I headed over I ate a bunch of strawberries so that I wouldn't eat those scrumptious crepes.

Okay, I thought, so far so good -- I am successfully staying strong against my temptations. I even passed by free cookies in the Wilk today.

Tonight I mad apple chicken for dinner. Healthy and delicious. A few hours later, I found myself sitting alone in my kitchen and for whatever reason, needing to eat sugar. I drank some orange juice, but needed more. I ate part of a peach, but it was rotten. I sat in anxiety and distress and extreme inner conflict. After some debate, the id took over. I grabbed a spoon and a bag of brown sugar and went to town. I ate at least a cup of brown sugar. Yup. Just spooned it straight into my mouth. I then grabbed a canister of Stephen's hot chocolate powder and -- can you guess? -- spooned that straight into my mouth as well.

When Jennie and Sadie came home, I felt drowned in guilt. I'd let them down, big time. I had to confess. And I did. Mid-confession, I started sobbing hysterically, and consequently, the roommates started laughing hysterically, which made me cry harder. Just picture me sitting at a kitchen table, face in my hands, and tears falling down my chin and onto my shirt. Picture Jennie sitting across from me, hitting the table and unable to breathe. Sadie was standing to my right, clutching her stomach with her eyes closed, yet trying to keep them open to watch me because it was such a spectacle. The more I cried, the more they laughed. It was a vicious cycle that lasted about seven minutes and resulted in a mascara streaked face for me and sore abs for the other two.

...Yeah. I don't know why I had such an emotional breakdown. I'm still sad about it though.

But I have a new resolve. I WILL DO THE WHOLE THIRTY DAYS! Even if it kills me. Which it won't... Quite the contrary, actually.

A love note to myself

I like Pinterest. It's handy.

How many times have you been asked what your most embarrassing moment is? It comes up in speed dating, fortune cookies, myspace surveys, get to know you questionnaires, you name it. And to be honest, I never really know how to respond when asked this quesiton. 'Uhhhhh, once I tripped in front of the boy I liked.' No. Stupid.

So for a really long time, (and if you ignore the incident that we don't speak of,) I didn't really have a 'most embarrassing moment' -- until February 28th. This is what happened. That week, I'd had a couple midterms to take. Truth be told, I was not doing well on them. My heart was rent with sorrow. I always seemed to leave the Testing Center feeling horrible, as if my New Testament grade was going to determine my eternal salvation or something. So, on that fateful day, I decided that I was done walking home with a pit in my throat and a lump in my stomach. I wanted to feel happy, regardless of whether I got a good score or not. So what did I do? I'm so glad you asked. You know how people leave notes for people on that little window ledge at the bottom of the stairs? Well.

I wrote myself a note.

In retrospect, I should've taken a picture because it was glorious. I wrote my name in cursive, decorated it with flowers and hearts and smiley faces, even folded it in a fancy way. I wrote a whole page chock full of awkward self-encouragement: "You're a beautiful daughter of God" and "This test doesn't matter in the eternal perspective" and "Baby, you're a firework." But wait. The cherry on top is that I signed it. I addressed it to myself, and then I signed it, "love, your future self (well technically your past self...)." I left it on the window ledge and went up to take my test.

An hour later, with my test handed in and my feet makin' their way downtown down the stairs, it dawned on me that there was a note sitting patiently on the ledge, waiting for me to come and claim it. The prospect of this made me want to skip, but skipping down stairs is hard so I just walked. ...But I walked with urgency!

When I arrived upon the landing, I found myself staring blankly at an empty window sill. Just wood. And window. But definitely no notes. "No... That's not true... That's impossible!" I thought to myself, eyes still glued to nothing, like maybe if I concentrated hard enough it would appear. Was I going blind? I looked at the floor. No note. I looked at the ledge again. No note. I checked the trash can for cryin' out loud -- but alas, there was no note.

As I slowly turned and started home, all I could think of was BYU Testing Center employees, laughing at the girl who wrote a love note to herself.

I would say that since that incident, I have been able to think of nothing else and I will never again write myself a note -- but that's absolutely not true. Quite the contrary, in fact. I think I'm going to leave letters for myself every time I go to the Testing Center. Chances are I'm bound to get at least one of them.

Moral of the story: Take every opportunity you can to love yourself. If nothing else, you'll get a mildly amusing anecdote to tell at your next dinner party. (Because if you're anything like me, you go to dinner parties all the time, am I right?)

I will not be registering to attend, sorry.

I have been giggling about this for the past 5 minutes. Can you see me attending a research conference? Better yet, what if I presented at said conference:

"I was doing my Calculus 685 homework, when it was taking me more than 2 hours to complete a problem. Therefore, because of my immense frustration and my need to move on to other, more important studies, I swiftly deduced a new formula that will enable others to solve all such equations in 5 minutes. Hold your applause and just give me the check -- I have to get back to my research." (Please note that I would pronounce research 're-search,' like the Brits.)

HA. No, as Natalie pointed out, it'd be more like this:

"I was trying to do my Physical Science homework when I got bored and started watching cat videos. Here's 100 hours of Nyan Cat -- enjoy!"

Yeah, that's definitely more likely. Have I mentioned today how lucky I am? Life is good. Frustrating at times, confusing yes... But good nonetheless.