California, here we come

I've been anticipating this much needed break for a few weeks now.

Provo, you are cold.
You are snowy.
You are a lot of schoolwork.
You are not giving me a boyfriend. (Just kidding. But really.)
You are not giving me a job.
You are dry.
You are too much the same.

Burbank, you are warm.
You are where my family is.
You are sunny.
You are happy.

Alex and I are going to California tomorrow, hayyyy.

Also, as of today, I am a published writer. Whatcha know 'bout that! Oh yeah. If you want a copy of The Student Review, holler at me.

Bucket list item #1

Thank you Nate Stebbing for this gem.

"You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real."

Like many human beings in this world, I love to read. LOVE. I love it so much that I often become so completely absorbed in whatever my current book is that I start thinking like the main character. For example, when I read A Million Little Pieces, by James Frey, I started thinking in repetition. Thinking in repetition. It went on and on, on and on for weeks. I couldn't control it. Couldn't control it. It controlled me. When I read Ender's Shadow, by Orson Scott Card, I couldn't be bothered with pointless conversations. Everyone around me seemed irritatingly ignorant. Why is this person talking to me about her homework. There are so many more important things than her homework. If I have to endure this for longer than 5 minutes I'm going to walk away without a word. I'm not sure why I do this. All I can say is that when I love a story, I want it to be my real life. That may have to do with the weird acting-like-the-characters thing that I do. Anyway.

I recently finished a trilogy that caused me to fall hopelessly in love with a beautiful, selfless boy by the name of Peeta Mellark. (It didn't help that, since I was so late to jump on The Hunger Games bandwagon, I was picturing Josh Hutcherson the whole time. Swoon.) Upon finishing the first book, I found myself thinking in full out sentences and conversations with myself, which doesn't usually happen. I wonder why that doesn't usually happen. I guess my thoughts come too quickly for me to process them into sentences like that. Isn't that what everyone does? Well, no matter. This is how I am and I'm going to have to learn how to deal with it, quick. But what affected me more than loving Peeta and acting like Katniss was how emotional I became reading this series. I should've known that crying at the end of the first chapter, when Prim's name is called, was not a good sign. I should've heeded that omen, recognized that if it started out sad it would only get worse. I finished The Hunger Games feeling frustrated and alone. I didn't like the dissatisfaction, so I figured that if I kept reading, my angst would be resolved and I could be happy again. I was wrong.

Catching Fire brought anxiety and despair. Mockingjay was a continuous heartbreak, all the way through. I cried almost the whole nine hours it took me to read it. I kept hoping things would turn around and the trilogy would come to a relatively happy conclusion, but it never did. It only brought me to the realization that everyone has a breaking point. After that, the damage is permanent. It can never be reversed. Katniss and Peeta's lives were forever scarred and broken because of what they went through -- no amount of love, friendship, or freedom from the Capitol could ever heal them. I'm completely aware that it was all make believe, all fiction; but the principles rang true and I, like Katniss and Peeta, could not recover from them. I can't recover, I can't unlearn. I can't forget how I felt reading, and how I still feel whenever I think about it.

The Hunger Games were compelling, captivating, mesmerizing, addicting. They were well written, imaginative, and original. I was able to lose myself in the story, which is always good. (No matter how many times I sat down with Jane Eyre, I just couldn't get into it. Not worth the read, in my opinion.) But I hated them. I hate how I couldn't think straight. Life wasn't happy, it was just a list of tasks that I had to complete every day to ensure my survival. And I hate how -- even though I'm finally done with the books and I will likely never read them again, thus I am free of the heartbreak that comes with them -- I know I'm going to see the movie, and the process will start over. But I have to see it. I can't not.

Anxiously waiting

for the e-mail that will tell me I've been hired as an EFY counselor! I've wanted to be an EFY counselor ever since I knew what EFY was. I've had such memorable EFY experiences and I want to bring that to other people. I love hanging out with the youth. (It's weird that I don't technically fall into that category any more. I'm a young single adult. What?) It would such an honor to be able to work with them and talk with them every day and help with through things. Ah! Plus, EFY is the most fun week ever. And if I'm a counselor, I won't just be at EFY for one week, but seven. :)

In other news, why don't I live in the 50's? Singin' In the Rain is so adorable. It's always things like that that just make me want to go back to those days, when men were gentleman and women were ladies. So respectable.

This semester is not passing quickly enough. I want to be in LONDON.

Grape Nuts and Backstreet Boys

For at least two years, there has always been someone living in my apartment. No mass exodus of apartment 98; it's just that great. But because no six occupants ever moved out at the same time, the apartment was never completely cleaned out, as evidenced by the various objects that with random initials that we routinely find. For example, there's an abandoned laundry detergent that says 'KH' on the lid. Every time I use it, I go through a mental checklist: JS... AH... ES... SC... NF... Nope, I'm good. So the other day, Sadie was looking through our cupboards and pulled out an almost-full box of Grape Nuts with a C on it, aka free game. YOU GUYS. You don't understand the amount of childhood that overwhelmed me when I opened those Grape Nuts, poured myself a bowl, and stuck it in the microwave. I got this weird giddy kind of excitement that makes you a little teary eyed because childhood is just so wonderful and you want it back more than anything. And yes... I microwave my Grape Nuts. I don't know how I acquired that habit, but it tastes so much better that way, I promise.

Along with my Grape Nuts (which I faithfully ate every morning, and are now all gone...), there have been a number of things this week that have reminded me of being a kid:

1. Last night at the ward indexing party (yes, that's right), Adam was playing all kinds of music from his laptop, and then he suddenly started playing the soundtrack of That Thing You Do! THAT THING YOU DO! Nothing screams childhood more than this. I cannot count the amount of times Claire and I listened to that song and danced on the couch. I love that soundtrack. Much to Adam and Jennie's disgrace, however, I have never seen the movie. I probably should. ASAP.
Update: I have seen it and it is AMAZING

2. Applesauce with cereal on top. I'm eating this. right. now. And it is delicious! Claire and I have a little tune that we would sing while we were making this tasty treat. It goes like this:
Apple sauce
with cereal
on to-o-o-o-o-o-p!
Brilliant, I know. ("That's just weak song writing. You wrote a bad song, Petey.") And since I know you all want to try this little concoction, the recipe is quite simple. Pour apple sauce in a bowl. Now pick out one of your favorite cereals and pour on top of the apple sauce. Get a spoon from your silverware drawer and devour. For best results, use Honey Bunches of Oats!


3. Backstreet Boys. The other day when Jennie, Emily, Natalie and I were getting ready for school, we had a Backstreet Boys fest. Needless to say, it was wonderful, and much needed. The most vivid Backstreet Boys memory I have is driving 9 and a half hours to Utah with my whole family, and me insisting that we listen to the same CD the whole time. Request fulfilled. Best car trip ever.

Well, that's all I can really think of that's happened this week that made me reminisce. Food and listening to music. I guess that is what my life revolves around, right? There have also been a lot of Star Wars and Disney references, but I think that's applicable to almost every person's youth. Ah, those were the days...

Learn, then do.

Here's a quick rundown

and here's how to do something about it.

Bear in mind that if either SOPA or PIPA passes, I won't be able to link to things like that any more.

And I wouldn't be able to share these little pictures that I know y'all enjoy oh so much:

This is how I feel about my roommates.

Got that from the internet, people.

Words of wisdom from Nate Ruess

Oh, be calm.

Be calm.

I know you feel like you were breaking down.

I know that it gets so hard sometimes,

Be calm.

Take it from me, I've been there a thousand times.

You hate your pulse because it thinks you're still alive

and everything's wrong

It just gets so hard sometimes

Be calm.


Also I'm obsessed with this video: We Are Young, by fun.

ALSO NATALIE FULLER IS MY HERO. Life would not be a party without this girl.