Confessions of a Pregnant Girl, Part II

So far being in the second trimester has been exciting and frustrating all together.

• What's been the most exciting is that I definitely know I've been feeling baby move. I mentioned in the last confession that I thought I might have felt the baby move, but now I definitely know that those little gas bubbles were indeed baby. The movements have been getting more and more distinct and I even notice them while I'm at work too. Which is nice but it can be so distracting... How am I supposed to concentrate at work when I have a small alien tickling me from the inside???
• At work, with a client, explaining an exercise to them
• Me: "So yeah all you do is you move this way -" *punch* 
• "uh huh, just like that. And then you -" *punch, punch* 
• "yeah, you've got it!" *wiggle, wiggle, punch*
• Recently, I've discovered that baby's movements are now strong enough to be felt from the outside too! I was sitting on the couch and I felt like some of the punches were really strong so I placed my hand on my tummy and sure enough, I could feel the movements under my hand! I was so sad Joe couldn't be there, but I texted him right away to tell him. At least by the time he gets home I'm sure the movements will have gotten stronger so he should have no problem feeling them! 
• Something that is both frustrating and exciting is the fact that I am finally starting to show! Sort of. I am 23 weeks along today (or 5 months for those of you who don't measure time in weeks) and it only really shows when I let my stomach muscles totally relax. Otherwise, when I've got my core engaged, it just looks like I'm starting to get fat. 

"Psst, is that girl pregnant or is she just getting fat?"

"Aw what a cute pregnant girl! And the faces she makes are totally adorable! She will have a cute child."

• I have finally made the switch to maternity pants at work, thanks to my sister-in-law and OH MY LANTA WHAT WAS I WAITING FOR! They are so comfortable. I really like the ones that have the super stretchy tummies just cause they feel more secure and don't emphasize the fact that I have a billion layers going on around my stomach in the summertime. Now that I have a good variety of pants for work, now I just need to collect a few more maternity tops and I should be set!
• I think I would like to check out some prenatal yoga classes soon. I've been able to find out about a class the happens here in GP so now I just need to make a commitment to go. This will be my first time venturing into a fitness group outside of school that doesn't involve rugby people, so wish me luck! If I had a pregnant friend to bring along that would be great (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, to a certain pregnant girl who moved back south just before I found out I was pregnant!)
• Okay, this one's a bit of a rant but... One thing that annoys me about being pregnant is how everyone who knows I'm pregnant wants to treat me like I'm made of glass, or they think I need to be extra careful while I'm doing things. Like the other day when I was standing on a stool to fix the dryer vent a co-worker said, "Be careful! If anyone here needs to avoid falling it's you!" And then another time when another co-worker was struggling to move a big heavy box into another room, I just stepped in and pushed it as I've been taught to push anything in rugby and she was all worried that I might hurt myself. I just don't understand how my body can all of a sudden become this frail, delicate thing when all my life it has been strong and reliable! I just wish people would trust that I know my body and I know how to listen to it when it needs a break. As I've been playing touch rugby with a group of people from church, I have definitely noticed that I can't cut and run like I used to (not that I was much of a runner before), but I don't push it! I take breaks when I need to and I stop when I've had enough. My biggest pet peeve is when someone doesn't think I can do something just because I'm a girl and I feel like a lot of people underestimate my abilities just because I'm pregnant! I'm carrying a child, not a disease. I'm not dying. Calm down, everyone.  **DISCLAIMER: I am in no way saying that pregnant girls should ignore restrictions placed on them and go out and push their bodies to the max. I am saying you should listen to your body and do only what feels comfortable. Pregnancy is no time to be trying to break any world records**

Overkill

When people of the world love something they certainly love to love the crap out of it.

I think around this time last year was when the Harlem Shake phase was going around and at first it was amusing, but then it started to get old. Real old. But people still kept posting the videos. And it went on and on and on until eventually, it finally faded away.

This year the new craze is Let It Go, the hit song from Frozen. Yes, it was a good movie. Yes I understand how progressive it was of Disney to do all the things they did in that movie. Yes, I even understand that Let It Go has become an anthem to anyone who has ever felt like they've had something to hide from the world. But for goodness sakes, does everyone need to keep making all these different "amazing" or "inspiring" versions of the same dang song???

It's a good song and everyone is ruining it for me! Gah! Let go of Let It Go!

Let It NO. credit.

Congradulations, gratuates!

I had the idea for this post a while ago, but didn't want to write it until after I wrote my 200th. And then after that happened I just didn't feel like blogging for a while.

But the last couple days I've had that familiar nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me it's time for me to write again. So here I am! And here you are! (hopefully)

This post is about another of my pet peeves. For some reason I love ranting to you guys, so I apologize if you get fed up with all the beefs I have with this world. Alright, here is my beef:

I hate it when people don't know how to spell things. But specifically, I hate it when people think congratulations is spelled with a d so it looks like congradulations instead. I really can't blame people themselves for making this mistake, I blame the greeting card companies! (yes, you, Hallmark!)

See? This is perfectly appropriate.

No. Wrong. Weddings are not a call for Congradulation.

I don't know when this started, but somebody thought they would be clever when their kid graduated so they gave them a card that said "congradulations!" instead of "congratulations!". And you know, when used in the context of a graduation, spelling it with a d is perfectly fine because it's cute. But I can't tell you how many people signed the guest book at my wedding and wished me congradulations on my marriage.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe the people who wished me congradulations view marriage as a type of graduation. I still don't like it though. I'm probably going to get tons of congradulations when I get pregnant too and then again when we buy our first house. I suppose you can view all of these things as a type of graduation into a new phase of life, but it's still stupid. It's going to make my real graduation all the less exciting because being congradulated by someone won't be such a novelty thanks to all the unnecessary congradulations I've already received for the non-graduation occasions of my life.

*Sigh* Wrong on so many levels. 

Meow

Now that I'm living in GP I've been sharing my house with two cats. I am not a cat person in any way so getting used to living with cats has probably been the biggest adjustment through this whole experience.

Here are a few of my thoughts regarding cats:

1. They leave hair everywhere. And they have this nasty habit of rubbing up against your leg which makes your pants hairy.

2. Why do they feel the need to scratch things? There's a couch in this house that the cats have made their scratching post and it's like they can't walk by the couch without having to stop and scratch it.

3. They are sooooo lazy. Joe and I are the only ones in the house for the week and yesterday when I went to work the two cats were chillin on the couch. When I got home they were still there! No wonder they're fat.

4. Sometimes they will just randomly run across the room for no reason. And at night I'll hear the strangest noises coming from wherever they are. They're up to something, I know it...

5. Seriously, what is with the scratching? How am I supposed to like cats if I know they will claw the crap out of any furniture I might own? Are you allowed to beat them for something like that like you would a dog?

6. Since the cats spend of their day sleeping, does that mean they don't sleep at night? For a couple days in a row I've noticed my hair ties sitting on the stairs near my bedroom when I know they were in the bathroom the night before. I swear, they're up to something...

Even though I'm not a huge fan of living with cats, at least I have gained appreciation for this video.

For the love of dough!

Anyone that knows me knows I love desserts. Okay, I love food in general, but there is a special place in my heart for desserts -- especially the kind I can make. Cookies are a wonderful dessert, but there's one thing about the cookie world I hate.

I've been surfing around the interwebs lately looking for a new cookie recipe to try. And a lot of them look really good, but I've been noticing a trend. Any cookie recipe that claims to be the best will always tell you to  refrigerate the dough for several hours or overnight for extra 'puffiness'.

Does anyone I know actually refrigerate their cookie dough?? When I make cookies, it's because I want to eat cookies right now. Half the dough doesn't even make it to the oven because it's so delicious that I just have to eat it now. In fact, a friend and I once made a batch of cookie dough just to eat the dough! We didn't even preheat the oven because we had no intentions of cooking our cookies. (Yes, that was during a girl's night and we watched a sappy movie after ward while we om nommed our delightful dough).

What I'm trying to get at is that I don't think these people who refrigerate their dough take cookies seriously. I mean, if you can make a batch of cookie dough, and then not eat it and save it for the next day, you clearly don't love cookies enough. I love cookies so much that I will eat one fresh out of the oven and scald my tongue on the lava hot chocolate chips and still go back for more. That, my friends, is what a cookie monster is all about.

You say Hello and I say Goodbye

I am more likely to greet someone in the morning than I am in the afternoon just because I like saying good morning more than any other greeting.

I love the exchange between Gandalf and Bilbo in The Hobbit when Bilbo greets Gandalf with "Good morning!" And Gandalf responds, "What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

I hate it when I'm walking along and I see someone I know and they say "hey how's it going" without showing signs that they're actually going to stop to listen to my answer. Do they actually want to know the answer to that question? How am I supposed to respond? Am I supposed to tell them I'm good and then ask how they're doing? That's the polite thing isn't it? If that's true and we haven't actually stopped in our paths to talk, then we'd be shouting by the end of the exchange because we've already gone too far apart.

I expressed these concerns to Joe one day and he told me you don't have to ask them how they're doing, you can just say "hey, I'm good." But isn't that rude??? You're supposed to ask how they're doing back because it shows that you are interested in how they're doing as well. I hate telling people I'm good when really, I may be having a rotten day. But no one wants to hear about your rotten day so that's why everyone says they're good. So really, you may as well just say hi to each other and the same amount of information gets exchanged because saying you're good doesn't mean anything.

That's why when I see someone I know on the street and I don't have time to talk to them, I will still greet them with a wave or maybe even a "hey!"

But if I have time or like the person enough, I will be more than happy to stop and talk.

Pet Peeve #2

This is the second pet peeve I've talked about on the blog. The first was about white gold vs yellow gold.

Today's pet peeve is about people who can't figure out directions. 

These are the people who you invite to your party via facebook with an address posted and everything and they still ask, "How do I get there??" (I seriously need to start vlogging because the voice that goes along with this question is so important to the peeve because that is how you sound in my head!)

If you are one of these people, please keep reading because I am going to tell you how to eradicate that stupid question. 

The reason I hate when people ask for directions is because today we have a magical invention called google maps. If you want to know how to get anywhere, all you do is simply type in your beginning address and the end address and poof! Google tells you exactly how to get there. 

For those of you who may be computer illiterate, I am going to show how to get directions using google maps. 

Step 1: make your way over to google.ca (if the picture is too small to see, click on it to make it bigger)

Google was lookin fancy today for Bram Stoker's 165th b-day.  If your google doesn't look like this, it's okay! Just make sure it says google and you're good. :)

Step 2: type in [place you are] to [place you want to be].

See? You're so close to getting your directions!

Step 3: Click on the "Driving Directions" link and BAM! You've got your own set of directions along with a map for you visual learners out there!

Holy crap! You can get anywhere now!

You can do this for local directions too. Check it out:

Directions to Pizza Hut? Yes please :D

Now that I've educated you, hopefully you can be more independent and find your way anywhere. I just opened up the world to you! You're welcome :)

All Talk and No Walk (down the aisle, that is!)

Okay, maybe it's just cause I'm Mormon that I don't understand, but help me out with something...

I don't get how people can get engaged... and not set a date! 

I once talked to a girl who'd just gotten engaged and I asked, "So when's the wedding!"
Her response: "Um... I don't know. We haven't really set a date yet. It'll be in the next 5 years at least."

Excuse me? The NEXT 5 YEARS? Getting married isn't like getting a degree. It doesn't take 5 years to plan a wedding! If you know you want to be married to someone, marry them!

Being engaged without a date for the wedding is like making a vague new year's resolution. It's not gonna happen if you don't have a plan! Mind you, that's not the case for everyone. But still - gah! C'mon people, get your crap together!

The only Disney princess I can think of who didn't marry her sweetheart right away was Jasmine. At the end of the first movie it looks like they've gotten married, but then they make a second movie and surprise! Aladdin and Jasmine still aren't married. And then in the third movie it opens on the day of their wedding and you think "At last! They're finally getting married!" But nope, Al's dad crashes the party with the 40 thieves and the next thing you know, Aladdin is off on another adventure - without Jasmine. They do eventually find their happily ever after and finally get married at the end though (oops, hope I didn't spoil that for anyone).

lonely, but loved

It's ranting time!

This is something that has bothered me since I got married. Actually no, it's bothered me since Johnny got his job with Halliburton, but it's bothered me more since we got married.

I hate it when people ask how I like living alone while Johnny's off at work.

Seriously, people do that.

Yes, my husband works out of town for two weeks at a time. Yes, it sucks but it is just a fact of life because this is how we are surviving right now as newlyweds. Yes, it is a sacrifice but it won't last forever so don't pity me. I grew up with my father working the rigs, so I knew precisely what I was getting into, yet I still chose it.

I am actually grateful that Johnny has the job he does. Even though it can be really tough to say goodbye to him and to have to handle the house on my own while he's gone, it really makes us appreciate the time we do have together. Because of this, I can proudly say we've never had a fight because our time is too short together not to enjoy it.

So for the people who want to know how I like living alone while Johnny's gone, know that I love it. I love it because it means I am married to a man who is sensible enough to stick with his well paying job to provide for our little family, and for that I am so grateful.  Even though the time apart can be really tough, there's enough love between us to make it all worth while.

Don't go stealing my power... or my toilet.

You know what grinds my gears? (I'm not even bothering with an introductory preamble, I'm just jumping right to the point. That's how ground my gears are)

I hate it when I'm looking for a place to plug in my lap top and I walk by someone who's sitting by a plug in and they're using their laptop, but IT'S NOT PLUGGED IN!! I hate it when someone without a laptop is sitting by an outlet too, but they don't have a laptop, so they don't know what it's like to base your choice of study spot on where the nearest outlet is. They don't know any better.

But someone with a laptop knows. They know what it's like to be working on your computer and to see your battery meter shrink smaller and smaller and the sudden urge you have to find a plug-in. I don't have that luxury anymore. My poor battery has lived its life and it can no longer function for more than 10 minutes without life support - I mean - an electrical outlet.

So to see someone sitting near a plugin I need with their laptop on their lap not being plugged in is like a cruel joke. It's like they're saying, "haha, look at me! I can work on my laptop without needing to plug it in because it's new and expensive and young and beautiful and BETTER THAN YOURS!".

It's like being hit by the sudden urge to go to the bathroom and you run around looking for a bathroom and when you find one, you can't use it cause it's already in use. But the person inside isn't even doing anything because they just wanted a spot to sit and read the newspaper!

That's why I love the newly renovated pool observatory at the school. They put in more plug-ins. More plug-ins! Finally, something the university has done that makes my life better.

Now I've just got to find a vacant bathroom and my life would be good...

The Nose Knows

Have you ever been walking behind someone and had their perfume or colonge (or BO, ugh) waft back to you? You take in a few deep breaths and you like what you smell so you follow them around for a bit. And then it always gets awkward when you follow for too long and they realize what you're doing...

Today I was walking behind a guy and he smelled pretty good. Except something was wrong. I was probably a good 10 feet behind this guy and I could smell his cologne perfectly. How did he smell that strongly?? Did he shower in cologne this morning?

He was walking a bit faster than me so there was a point where he got out of my view because he turned a corner, but I could still smell him! I bet I could have gone blood hound on that guy and followed him around all morning.

But why did he have so much cologne on? Maybe he's actually a really smelly guy and so he's trying to mask his smell with something else. But that's what a shower is for is it not? And I mean a real shower with real water and body wash - not cologne.

So my friends, if you think you might have an offensive odor about you, don't mask the smell with pretty perfumes or colognes. Try a shower. And then maybe a spritz of your favourite smell. You don't want your smell to be a smack in the nose for someone else, whether it's good or bad.

A Step in the Right Direction

Did I ever tell you my exciting news?

I finally know what I want to do with my life! For reals!

Originally, I was majoring in biochemistry to become a pharmacist. But after I totally bombed in the chem department last semester, I decided that I didn't want to include chemistry in my life anymore. But if not pharmacy, then what?

One day my mum suggested that I should look into becoming a physiotherapist. Since I tore my ACL, I've worked a lot with physiotherapists and from what I've seen, it's a pretty good profession to get into. You get to play in a gym all day while at the same time, you feel a sense of accomplishment because you get to help people get back on their feet (quite literally sometimes).

So I took my mum's advice and took a look at what it takes to become a physical therapist. I found that there's a master's program up at the U of A that takes 25-28 months to complete. All I need is to finish my Bachelor's degree down here and then I'll be able to transfer up. I'm super excited. I just finished registering for my classes and I am all set for the fall. There is one downside to this whole situation though...

I've had to switch my major from biochemistry to kinesiology.

In case you don't know what kinesiology is, it's gym class. By definition, kinese is the study of human movement. In other words: gym class. Back when I was a biochem major, we made fun of the kinese majors and now I'm going to be one of them. Oh well.

With biochem, I worked myself into the ground. My class schedule was so loaded with lectures and labs and tutorials that I barely had time to digest anything I was learning. But now, I've got two classes in which I'm actually in a classroom and the other two are physical activity courses! On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I have resistance training in the morning and in the afternoon I get to play badminton. And these classes count towards my major! How awesome is that? And the textbook fees are going to be a fraction of what they used to be. I'll actually have money left over once I'm done paying my fees!!

You know, even though I may have to suffer some jeers from my once fellow biochemmates, it'll totally be worth it once midterm and final season rolls around. I'm gonna have a smokin' hot body from all my physical activity while they seek new ways to kill themselves to avoid lab write-ups. Boo yah.

I Can Bat My Eyes and Get What I Want

The other night, I was talking with a buddy and we somehow got onto the topic of flirts and flirting. After some prodding, he told me that he and a few other guys had talked and said that they thought I was a flirt.

Me? A flirt?? A couple years ago I didn't even know how to flirt! He tried to reassure me by saying, "It's not a bad thing!", but still... A flirt? I was reeling from the fact that I have reached "flirt status" in the opinions of some of the guys of my ward.

Which only makes me shake my head at the inability of men to tell the difference between being friendly and flirting. I hate it when a guy gets all sketchy when I simply acknowledge their presence. The other night I was finally introduced to a guy that I have heard so much about. Apparently, we are practically the same person, except of different genders. After all the hype and excitement, I must say that the introduction was rather a let-down.

Friend: "Leinani! This is him!"
Me: "Oh, hi. You must be Graham."
My boy twin: "Erm, this is awkward. I've already heard so much about you."
Me: "Haha, yeah me too."
My boy twin: turns to my friend, messes up her hair, then runs away.

It was nice to meet you too, pal . . . I don't act like that, do I?

No Point in Trying

For those of you who don't know, Lethbridge gets the worst winds EVER. No matter how nicely you style your hair in the morning, the moment you walk out the door and into the 100km/hr wind, all your hard work goes to waste. You may as well roll out of bed with your hair all a-tangle and walk outside to let the wind style it for you. Either way, you get the same look as if you'd actually tried to do something with it before. At the University, you can tell who lives in rez on a windy day because they are the only ones with decent hair (unless they'd just rolled out of bed with ther hair all a-tangle).

Are you sick of me complaining? Sorry. Just one more and I'll be done: I don't like St. Patrick's day. Not to bash Ireland or the history behind the tradition, but I just don't like the colour green. I will wear green because it looks good on me, but that is the only tolerance I have for it. Why should green be so special? I think it's discrimination against the other colours if you ask me. AND, you don't even get a day off school for it. What kind of holiday is that???

Anyway, I wanted to try something new with my blog by doing a weekly segment. I'm not sure what I want to call it, so I think I'll have you folks vote. Here are your options: Wordy Wednesday, Wordly Wednesday, or Wordsy Wednesday. So leave a comment and let me know! I'll have made a decision by the next segment.*

As you might be able to tell by the name, I want to talk about words. The kind that we don't use anymore, to be exact. Today's word is: Bodacious. As in, "You are one bodacious babe."**

This word popped into my head this morning and I thought to myself, Why has that gone out of style? It is such an awesome word!

So I've done a little research and here's what I've found:

- Most experts believe it was created by combining "bold" and "audacious"
- It was used mostly in the 80's and 90's
- It can have multiple meanings, such as remarkable, courageous or audacious
- It can be used to describe a good looking guy or girl

Until I blog again, have a bodacious time!

---

* -Since this is my blog, if I don't like what you choose, I'm picking one on my own :P

** -500 points to whoever can tell me the movie that quote is from!

Dang.

Don't you hate when you go to say something, but someone interrupts you and so you wait and by the time you get the chance to speak, you've forgotten what it was you wanted to say?

Try having that happen with a blog.

I kid you not, all day long I've been thinking stuff up and there have been some really awesome brain things going on inside my head, but now - pfft! it's gone.

I came onto my laptop to do one thing and one thing only: blog. And then all of a sudden I found myself on Facebook. And then on someone else's blog. And on some other random site that I have never been to before. Goodness gracious, it's a good thing I don't have some big important date to go on or else I'd probably miss that too. Or -- do I??!

No, I'm good. I nearly forgot that my life has a severe lack of love interests for the time being. There's lots of the we're-just-friends type, but none of the maybe-something-more kind. Le sigh.

Boys are awesome.*

Anyway, let's move on...

As you know, I've been running my buns off lately. It's going really well! I feel really good. Today I took my cousin and my trek sister out to the rugby club to practise some contact drills. It was great. That is my favorite part of rugby. However, I made a worrying discovery: I can't fall properly on my left side.

In rugby, it is very important for one to know how to land properly when one is tackled so as not to bring injury upon oneself. If one can't land on one's left side, that means one can't get tackled there. And if one really hates getting tackled on one's left side, then that throws one off because one would be more worried about one's knee than the ball and essentially, the game.

So. Why does this matter to you, dear reader? It probably doesn't. But, be grateful for your knees. If you have two fully functional knees that you don't worry about everyday, be grateful! Knees are more important than you think. And if you don't have fully functional knees and are bound to a wheelchair, I apologize for my whining. I am still grateful for the one good knee I have left and I am especially grateful for the wonderful progress my bad knee has made. (I can sit cross-legged again!)

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I didn't get everything that I thought of today, but whatevs, maybe it'll come to me later. As long as the awesome brain things going on inside my head aren't interrupted again.

---

*- In case you didn't catch any of the sarcasm** dripping off of that comment, here is an alternate phrase that can be used in the context without any sarcasm: Boys are lame.

**- They should invent a font specifically for sarcastic comments. And if that actually does happen, let it be known that I blogged about it first. Maybe. Well, I dibs it, how about that?

Let's Pull it Together Boys

ARGHGHGRGGHHHGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!! D=

Canada lost the hockey game against the Americans. It's okay though. We can still get gold. This is just a minor setback. I watched the first half of the game, then had to leave to go to a fireside. I'm pretty sure that's why we lost. I wasn't watching!

McFLY kept me well updated on the game and when the Americans scored their fourth goal on us, it was hard not to cry out in frustration. The final score was 5-3 . . . And I was having such a good night too. And! To top it off, they didn't have refreshments after the fireside. How was I going to be comforted from the hockey game? Maybe I should have cried onto a boy's shoulder.

Geeze Louise. I did, however, get one good thing out of tonight: I learned a new phrase. "Suck a duck". Thank you Erin.

You Drive Me Crazy!

I am going to make a list of the top 10 things that annoy me. Just for the heck of it.

10. Excessive chivalry. Guys, if you're reading this, just know that a girl appreciates having a door opened for her every once in a while. But if we have to wait around for you to get there for us, it'll become annoying.

9. Boys that wink at everybody. I've known a few of the excessive winking type, and at first I think they're really into me because they're always winking at me. But then when I see that they just wink all the time, I kind of feel sorry for them. Maybe you should get that checked out...

8. Boys who can't take a hint. Guys, if I'm just not that into you, I will try to let you know! Generally I usually try to stick in as many "buddy"s and "pal"s whenever I'm talking to you. And if I've ever punched you (playfully or not), you can bet I only see you as a friend.

7. Hair. I hate seeing it on my clothes and I hate seeing it on other people.

6. People that chew their gum loudly. You sound like a cow!

5. People who drive too slow.

4. People who overstay their welcome. I try to drop subtle hints to suggest that they leave but they just don't get it. So I eventually have to kick them out. Does that make me a bad hostess?

3. Poor grammar/spelling. Learn the difference between your and you're; there, their and they're; and hear and here. GAH!

2. Picky children. You're going to eat whatever I make for you and you're going to like it!

1. Whiny children. I can't fix all of your problems. You stubbed your toe? What am I supposed to do for it?

Maybe for 1, I should have put "loud children" instead. Today I was babysitting The Kids, and Adam had two of his frends over to play. They were upstairs playing video games and I was downstairs watching the Olympics when all of a sudden I hear the loudest, girliest squeal I have ever heard. I knew it was Adam because I recognized the squeal, so I made my way upstairs just to make sure the boys hadn't broken anything in the ruckus. Everyone was fine, but my eardrums were protesting the squeals coming from Adam. That boy is sooo annoying! I have two brothers at home who are constantly rough-housing and always causing trouble. But at least when they're wrestling, they don't scream like little girls. Maybe Adam should take some notes from them so he can learn to buck up, rub some dirt in it and walk it off.

So Much Time and So Little To Do...

As I've mentioned before, I am currently taking a semester off school. I'm doing it for several reasons actually,

The main reason being that my family and I are going on a trip to Australia in April, which is the same time that my finals would have been written. Since I didn't want to have to put up with rearranging my schedule so I could write my tests before or after the trip(which would have sucked!), I decided to just skip school altogether.

School is expensive. And travelling is expensive. If I plan on travelling and going to school later on, I will need money. If I want money, that means I have to suck it up, be a big girl and work. I didn't work during the school year because I was majoring in biochemistry. Do you remember the high school days when science was your least favorite subject and that hour long class felt like an eternity? Try taking nothing but science classes. No wait, science and math classes. Sure I used to like science and I used to like math, but after doing it for a year and a half in university, I want to shoot myself in the head at the mention of words like conjugation, molecular orbitals and partial fractions.

Which brings me to my next reason for taking a break: school wore me out. Last semester I was crazy enough to take 5 classes: genetics, organic chemistry, analytical chemistry, calculus II and english. Those were some pretty hefty courses on their own, but I also had some new responsibilties at church as the Superma for FHE which meant that I, along with my Superpa counterpart, was (and currently, still am) in charge of planning weekly activities for the ward to enjoy every Monday night. It's a tough job to keep people entertained and happy, but I like it.

I had a very busy schedule last semester. So it's been a challenge to try and keep myself busy with all this time on my hands. It's so easy to fall into a routine of watching TV all day and facebooking, blogging and other online whatnot, but I'm trying to avoid that. I was blog-surfing today (wasting time, I know) when I came across a blog by a guy in my ward. He wrote an entry talking about finding a good use of our time. I thought it was well written and that he'd made some good points in it. If you've got some time to spare, check it out!

I've got some spare time, but I've already read the blog. So I'll go do something productive like solve world hunger or something... Peace out.

Oh... Hello, Again.

This week I've started going to my new insititute classes, hooray! Taking a semester off has left me spending more time at home than I would like, so the new reason to go out is quite welcome. I've also got my cousin coming out to institute; Bishop would be proud. Today, we were on the southside and I made the awkward discovery that the last guy I had a major crush on is in my institute class. Joy...... I'm just grateful that the encounter wasn't made more awkward with the presence of his wife.

Allow me to elaborate: I really liked this boy. A lot. We met in October of 2008. I took him to Preference in November and by December, I'd say we were pretty tight. I thought that he was into me too when he came to my house after my knee surgery to keep me company. I realized I was wrong when I walked in to a party to see him on the couch cuddling with his new girlfriend. I was livid. Both of his closest friends knew that I really liked him, so I would imgaine that they had passed the message along. I guess it doesn't mean a guy likes you when he constantly flirts with you and does anything you ask of him. Whatever. I talked to him about us on Facebook a few days after the party, and he said, "I thought we were just friends". BULL!! Like I said before, two of his closest friends knew that I liked him because I told them. I'm pretty sure that he knew as well. Needless to say, Just Friends and I were not as close as before in the months to follow. When he got engaged in March I was just glad that it meant he would be out of my ward come July. And I haven't seen him since that summer. That is, until today.

At Least I Look Good

I am so jealous of boys. They don't realise how easy they have life. When a guy has to get ready for a formal evening, all he has to do is shave, run a comb through his hair and throw on a suit. The longest I can see this taking is an hour. Whereas, for me, an hour is the smallest amount of time it will take me. I may not speak for all girls, but when I get ready for a formal event, it can take a whole afternoon if I have the time - and I consider myself pretty low maintenance! There are a million things to do to get ready: I shower, I shave, I do my hair, I moisturize, I pick a dress, I do my makeup, and I accessorize.

On Saturday I went to a formal dinner with my buddy, Suitman. Suitman owns a suit; therefore, he is eligible to accompany me to any function that requires formal wear (namely weddings). This weekend was different though, because he invited me when it is usually the other way around. It took me a good 2 and a half hours to get ready, which is pretty good considering the dress I'd chosen to wear:

Sure, it may look nice and make me look pretty good, but that thing is a huge pain-in-the-rump to get into! In the back it's got corset ties to do up and there is no way that I could ever do it myself. My mother was at a basketball game while I was getting ready, so I had to call a friend from down the street to do up my dress! Luckily, suitman was a little late in picking me up, so I had the chance to do some last minute adjustments to my look. I asked him how long it took him to get ready and he said half an hour! That's 20% of the time it took for me to get ready!

Oh, the joys of being a girl.