I apologize for lack of updates on my life (if that's even important to you, I have no idea).
So, let's start from last Friday, shall we?
My mom was going to go out to dinner with one of her old coworkers, and my grandma had a stake single adult activity she had to go to (she's the stake single adult leader). She kept doing that thing she does. She used that voice that always makes me feel guilty when I say no to it. It's kind of what I would describe as luring a child to do something you don't want them to do, yet somehow making them feel bad about even thinking about doing that thing. It's a bit difficult to explain, but she's a pro at it.
After multiple refusals to go, because of my exhaustion and rough week, she gave up (so I thought). She invited me because the activity was supposed to allow those in the single adults program with children to bring said children and enjoy each others company via games and fun-time-things. All I wanted to do that night was snuggle up to my mommy and cry until I fell asleep...yes, I'm still five at heart.
Since my mom was to leave moments after my grandma did, I just dragged my feet to my room, snuggled up to my pillows and my baby blanket (again, still five), and waited for the tears to come.
It's weird how dogs are so sensitive to emotion. Every time I've been sick or sad, Blue (my dog), comes to the rescue. It's like he knows about the fact that it hurts more for me to hear about the death of an animal than it does to hear about the death of a human being. Every time I've had a fever, he's hopped on my bed, and put his warm back against my shivering spine or on my frigid feet. That night was no exception. He came into my room, and let me rub his belly until the tears were no longer on the brim of my eyelids.
About an hour later, my grandma called and said she had forgotten something (supposedly), and once again, used that voice. I gave in. She said the only other youth there was my friend Tyler H. whom I had talked to only hours before. He said he was miserably sick, and since I was miserable, I figured we could drown in each other's misery for the night. It turned out to be not so bad. I won two out of three games of Mexican Train, and I think Tyler's dad is freaking hilarious.
Saturday, my mom had her surf lesson with Heather, Molly, and Sister Holte. I didn't get to see her before she left. The youth in my ward went to St. Augustine that day. It was really relaxing and a lot of fun. The cannons were fired, ultimate frisbee was played, and there were puppies and babies all over St. George Street, so, I was happy. I still wanted my mommy, though...
I've been really over the edge with my teachers this week. Especially my Pre-Calculus/AP Statistics teacher. She is just so irresponsible and doesn't teach, and when she tries, it makes no sense whatsoever.
I've decided Wednesdays and Thursdays are my favorite days. I've always kind of liked Thursdays, because it just means the weekend is that much closer. It also often means a girls night out. I somehow, usually have less homework, too. Weird.
I've decided to add Wednesday to that equation because of Wednesday night Mutual. I know I've said it before, but I really love my sisters in Zion. That time we have in the middle of the week and on Sundays means the world to me. They are the reason I look forward to Seminary when I want nothing more than to stay in bed. I love that the feelings from Mutual rollover into the next morning in Thursday Seminary.
The Friday of the single adult activity was a particular spiritual day in Seminary. Funnily enough, we talked about the worth of souls. Sister Gevara shared a beautiful and inspiring story from her mission, and it was funny in the way it tied in perfectly with the article I had read and posted on here the day before. She talked about this old woman in South America (I can't remember where) that was just known around the town as dirty and old and "crusty" (Sister G's words, not mine). She smoked. She had this cast on her leg that was probably supposed to be removed centuries before (if I remember, correctly). Sister G and her companion were given the challenge to hand out a certain number of Book of Mormon's in a day. By the end of that day they only had one copy left. Not being guided by the Spirit, but by the challenge, they gave that book to this woman. After a few days or so of passing by her house on the corner of the street, the woman finally called to them and asked, "So, when are you going to start reading to me?" She was illiterate, but she was also faithful as they came to her everyday and read. She was baptized. She quit smoking. She was healthy. She had realized that she was worthy and divine. A beautiful daughter of God.
Now, I am going to snuggle up to my mommy (FINALLY) after almost two weeks of not getting the chance. Our schedules have been so hectic, and when she's up and home, I'm dead asleep from my late night studying, and when I'm awake, she's in a peaceful slumber. Nicholas, my cousin, has been staying with us this week because his dad usually takes him to the community college here during the week, but he's out of town, so we're doing some carpooling and accommodating for him. This means I've had to give up my room, and I usually hate giving up my bed for other people and their icky germs (yes, germaphobe in the house), but I don't care this time. I get to sleep in my mommy's heavenly comfortable bed.
I made my room "manly" for him. I put a sign on the door that reads "The Man Cave"; I put a few boy-esque pictures on the wall; and I taped a picture of Chuck Norris over my Audrey Hepburn picture. Oh, and I also wrote exceptions to the girly things that I didn't hide. I even went as far as to change the usually flower-covered comforter and pillowcases to some on the more masculine side of the spectrum (sort of).
So, let's start from last Friday, shall we?
My mom was going to go out to dinner with one of her old coworkers, and my grandma had a stake single adult activity she had to go to (she's the stake single adult leader). She kept doing that thing she does. She used that voice that always makes me feel guilty when I say no to it. It's kind of what I would describe as luring a child to do something you don't want them to do, yet somehow making them feel bad about even thinking about doing that thing. It's a bit difficult to explain, but she's a pro at it.
After multiple refusals to go, because of my exhaustion and rough week, she gave up (so I thought). She invited me because the activity was supposed to allow those in the single adults program with children to bring said children and enjoy each others company via games and fun-time-things. All I wanted to do that night was snuggle up to my mommy and cry until I fell asleep...yes, I'm still five at heart.
Since my mom was to leave moments after my grandma did, I just dragged my feet to my room, snuggled up to my pillows and my baby blanket (again, still five), and waited for the tears to come.
It's weird how dogs are so sensitive to emotion. Every time I've been sick or sad, Blue (my dog), comes to the rescue. It's like he knows about the fact that it hurts more for me to hear about the death of an animal than it does to hear about the death of a human being. Every time I've had a fever, he's hopped on my bed, and put his warm back against my shivering spine or on my frigid feet. That night was no exception. He came into my room, and let me rub his belly until the tears were no longer on the brim of my eyelids.
About an hour later, my grandma called and said she had forgotten something (supposedly), and once again, used that voice. I gave in. She said the only other youth there was my friend Tyler H. whom I had talked to only hours before. He said he was miserably sick, and since I was miserable, I figured we could drown in each other's misery for the night. It turned out to be not so bad. I won two out of three games of Mexican Train, and I think Tyler's dad is freaking hilarious.
Saturday, my mom had her surf lesson with Heather, Molly, and Sister Holte. I didn't get to see her before she left. The youth in my ward went to St. Augustine that day. It was really relaxing and a lot of fun. The cannons were fired, ultimate frisbee was played, and there were puppies and babies all over St. George Street, so, I was happy. I still wanted my mommy, though...
I've been really over the edge with my teachers this week. Especially my Pre-Calculus/AP Statistics teacher. She is just so irresponsible and doesn't teach, and when she tries, it makes no sense whatsoever.
I've decided Wednesdays and Thursdays are my favorite days. I've always kind of liked Thursdays, because it just means the weekend is that much closer. It also often means a girls night out. I somehow, usually have less homework, too. Weird.
I've decided to add Wednesday to that equation because of Wednesday night Mutual. I know I've said it before, but I really love my sisters in Zion. That time we have in the middle of the week and on Sundays means the world to me. They are the reason I look forward to Seminary when I want nothing more than to stay in bed. I love that the feelings from Mutual rollover into the next morning in Thursday Seminary.
The Friday of the single adult activity was a particular spiritual day in Seminary. Funnily enough, we talked about the worth of souls. Sister Gevara shared a beautiful and inspiring story from her mission, and it was funny in the way it tied in perfectly with the article I had read and posted on here the day before. She talked about this old woman in South America (I can't remember where) that was just known around the town as dirty and old and "crusty" (Sister G's words, not mine). She smoked. She had this cast on her leg that was probably supposed to be removed centuries before (if I remember, correctly). Sister G and her companion were given the challenge to hand out a certain number of Book of Mormon's in a day. By the end of that day they only had one copy left. Not being guided by the Spirit, but by the challenge, they gave that book to this woman. After a few days or so of passing by her house on the corner of the street, the woman finally called to them and asked, "So, when are you going to start reading to me?" She was illiterate, but she was also faithful as they came to her everyday and read. She was baptized. She quit smoking. She was healthy. She had realized that she was worthy and divine. A beautiful daughter of God.
Now, I am going to snuggle up to my mommy (FINALLY) after almost two weeks of not getting the chance. Our schedules have been so hectic, and when she's up and home, I'm dead asleep from my late night studying, and when I'm awake, she's in a peaceful slumber. Nicholas, my cousin, has been staying with us this week because his dad usually takes him to the community college here during the week, but he's out of town, so we're doing some carpooling and accommodating for him. This means I've had to give up my room, and I usually hate giving up my bed for other people and their icky germs (yes, germaphobe in the house), but I don't care this time. I get to sleep in my mommy's heavenly comfortable bed.
I made my room "manly" for him. I put a sign on the door that reads "The Man Cave"; I put a few boy-esque pictures on the wall; and I taped a picture of Chuck Norris over my Audrey Hepburn picture. Oh, and I also wrote exceptions to the girly things that I didn't hide. I even went as far as to change the usually flower-covered comforter and pillowcases to some on the more masculine side of the spectrum (sort of).
[This is right by my closet. The flowery thing below the trunk with the sign is my usual comforter.]
[I think I'll scan this and post it later. These are the "Manly Exceptions" (i.e. the things that I didn't know how to alternate to manly, or can be justified as unisex).]
[Nicholas has always liked tigers, so I thought he'd appreciate this one.]
I honestly never thought Chuck Norris would taste any wall of my room. Now I'm just worried that the tape I used will ruin the Audrey Hepburn picture. I pray it won't.
How have you been, reader?
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