shout it from the rooftops: "IT'S NOT MY PROBLEM ANYMOOOORRREE!"

Let's talk about forgiveness.

It's hard. Sometimes I honestly would rather climb Timp in the dead of winter.

JK. But that's what forgiveness feels like if you're unwilling to forgive. However, as soon as you decide to let go of whatever the thing is, suddenly the whole ordeal goes from hiking Timp to taking a nap in a hammock. Feels real nice.

Last year wasn't ideal. The year before, same thing. "Why does she always allude to crap happening and never say what it is?" Well, the short version is, some of the persons involved might maybe may still read this blog. And if they do, hi guys. How's it going. I also believe that blogging can open up the door known as "Oversharing." The door has a deadbolt on it for a reason, guys. Do not, under any circumstances, throw it open.

Because sooner or later strangers will approach you in public and ask you how your colonoscopy was. Really, do you want the whole internet to know about these things???? It's an epidemic and I'm probably a hypocrite because I have no filter really, but I do try to keep some stuff in its dark cave of privacy, where it belongs. That's what a journal is for.

Recently, these old demons have begun creeping up in my heart of hearts. The demons that say, "Yo McKenzie...wouldn't it have been cool if ___ had done ____ instead of ____? Yeah, wouldn't that have been awesome?" *Cue me being angry at said person for not doing something in the past which is wayyyyyyyyy past being water under the bridge*

UGH. Ugh, stop it, little demons, which I imagine in my mind looking like the albino bat in Anastasia! STAHP.

My bff/roommate/bff Caitlyn was listening to me talk about this the other night, and reel in frustration because that's what I do (reeling=laying on the floor and saying "uggggggggh"). She then calmly said, "McKenzie...it's not your problem anymore."

Then I lit up. Because it's true. It's not my problem anymore. Remember when I let that stuff go forever ago? Remember when?? Hahahahahahhaha NICE TRY LUCIFER! I WIN!

The thing about Satan is that he's pretty sneaky. He tries to get us to stew about things we've already forgotten about/gotten over/etc. He's very persistent, that little beaverface. I can't even handle him sometimes. Forgiving people is hard enough--especially when you don't get any sort of apology or restitution from them. And then Satan's gotta come in and be all, "Hey guys, how about instead of letting go of that thing and feeling peaceful and happy, you don't do that..?"

Satan has never been one for having good plans. Remember?

Shut the door in his face. And then scream it from the rooftops, from the front seat of your car with the window down, into your pillow:

IT'S

NOT

MY

PROBLEM

ANYMORE.

Ur Friday Advice Columnist *OUT*

I am going to punch my alarm clock in the jugular: a post completely unrelated to what I just said (but I am bloody tired)

my face almost every second of the day, erp

(the cat, not the girl, geez)

Being an introvert (all the extroverts be like *eyerolling so hard their eyes fall back into their skulls*), I get all the energy sucked from my body when I am social. Too social. Like Disneyland is a dadgum nightmare and a half. So many strangers walking around and talking and screaming and spreading measles and stuff. ~~**STreSs~~**

Going grocery shopping alone is my jam. Especially in the morning when hardly anybody else is there. So what I am saying is if Superman was an introvert then the sun=his alone time. Did that make anyyyy sense at all? Nah? Read the comic books then.

All of this talk about being introverted brings me to this: I am hecka good at writing notes/letters. Talking to people face to face is hard, but I could write notes to strangers all day. And in high school, I did just that. I left notes in people's lockers, underneath empty milk cartons, in the coin slot at the payphone outside the gym, and in the vending machine. They were all signed "Your Friendly Neighborhood Lunchlady." It gave me an insane amount of satisfaction....I, McKenzie, was communicating with people in an anonymous fashion, hopefully giving them something to think about (like mashed potatoes), and then wonder "Who is this FNL?" I know, it's not as catchy as "Zorro," but gimme a break, I was 16.

A couple of years ago, I sent out a message to the randos of the internet (via tumblr) asking any of my followers if they wanted a letter from me, and if they wanted me to write about anything in particular. I wrote like four letters to strangers, and all of them were about 5 pages each. I wish I had copies of those letters, because I think they were complete nonsense and would make good stand-up material now. So, thesis of my essay here: I can talk anyone's ear off.... if it's on paper.

Last night, I got to relive my glory dayz. GLORY BE!!

Visual aids

special s/o to Barnes and Noble for still existing even though Borders pulled a Titanic and went under #toosoon

SERIOUSLY SO MANY ADJECTIVES STAHP PLS

there were like 50 books here with the same title

so I wrote

"Ok so ANSWER then!" 

Had to.

I would probably throw last year's version of myself down the stairs. and the year before that, too.

put it on my grave

Do you ever do something terrible and then suddenly think, "Gah. That was something 2013 McKenzie would do." Obviously you wouldn't use my name every time you said it. Or any of the times...because you are not me. It's hard to write to an invisible audience sometimes.

I would love to write a thank-you note to everyone that hurt me in the past two years and thank them for doing it, because even though it was hellish, it produced a much better McKenzie. 2015 McKenzie, if you will. And the same thing will happen this year, and I will (hopefully) learn all sorts of necessary life lessons, which will in turn metaphorphasize me into a better human.

Isn't life funny that way? Not like...hahahahahahaha funny. Like "Oh my gash did I just run over a squirrel with my car oh okay good I didn't ohm ygosh there'sanOTHER SQUIRREL." Like that kind of funny (i.e. not very funny AT ALL).

Hitting animals--or people--with your car isn't funny.
#stillnotoverit

I'm on the verge of some craaazzyy soup. CRAZY. But I can't talk about it on here yet because this blog is getting strangely popular...aherm. Like..not super popular, not like Hey Natalie Jean (that's getting real hard to pronounce, so many syllables and stuff, gahh) or anything.

This blog is 100% never gonna be like that one.

But we do have one similarity you see!

A book.

*MIC DROP*

link to the awkward/awful video I made which I didn't have the patience to load onto the blog. Honestly I think the most worthwhile part is from minute 6:30-8:30. ALRIGHTBYE.

I don't know if it will work if we aren't Facebook frands. SRY.

"cried but did the thing anyways": an award I think we should start giving people

Sometimes my knees get sore from praying so much. Sometimes it seems like they're never not going to be sore. 

Sometimes I sit down at night to write in my journal and I just sit there and cry, because life is beating me up. I don't think anyone should be ashamed to admit that they're sad or that they cry a lot. It's not a disease to be emotional. 

I've recently wondered why the world mocks those who are sensitive and calls them "overly emotional." Too soft. I'd rather cry about things that are obviously painful then hide all that emotion behind a stoic face and pretend I'm not hurting. I know we shouldn't be easily offended or let people walk all over us, but we also shouldn't be afraid to feel.

Which brings me to my next point.

Sometimes I trust people too easily (sometimes meaning always). It's one of those blessing/curse traits I possess. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt. That's why I went running every night by myself when I was 15. #notsmart 

Sometimes I'm left scratching my head at how I could've missed something--how could I have trusted someone so easily and given them my whole heart and then they gave it back to me...after they stuck it in the blender. When this happens I usually retreat and decide not to talk to anyone for a few days. I'm learning how to stand up for myself.

There's a fine balance between feeling what you feel and then standing up for it. 

I let people push me around because I want to be "the nice one." So far that hasn't worked at all. I give and give everything until I'm completely empty and then of course I get crushed. I'm working on being a little more bold and saying "Hey. That hurt my feelings." That HURT. Ouch. You can't see it bleed but it's bleeding. It's keeping me up at night and making my stomach hurt. It's making me wonder if I should ever try to make friends again. 

I'm learning to rely more on the Savior than I have in the past. I can't rely on anyone else as completely as I can rely on Him. I'm learning this, but it's a slow process. And yes, painful. 

I think it's teaching me this very important lesson which I have learned the hard way many times:

“In a dating and courtship relationship, I would not have you spend five minutes with someone who belittles you, one who is constantly critical of you, one who is cruel at your expense and may even call it humor. Life is tough enough without the person who is supposed to love you leading the assault on your self-esteem, your sense of dignity, your confidence, and your joy. In this person's care, you deserve to feel physically safe and emotionally secure.” -Jeffrey R. Holland

For the purposes of this blog post, you can edit out "dating and courtship" and just say "relationship." And I would also venture to say that the "someone who belittles you" in this quote can also be you. If you had a friend who talked to you the way you talk to yourself, would you still be friends with that person? Think about it. And soon enough the people you surround yourself with will either treat you the same way you treat yourself orrr they'll fall out of formation because you know you're worth more than the way they are treating you (sorry for that huge run-on sentence. so very sorry). They won't be able to stay. Which is lame, but a part of being a mature adult. 

Don't worry, I'm definitely writing this on my bed with a pile of laundry next to me. Lest you think I'm a fully matured adult.

I know. This is hard stuff to swallow. It's hard to write. But someone had to get it out there, and since I'm struggling with it, I figured...MIGHT AS WELL BE ME! When I have ever missed out on the opportunity to share my opinion?

Never, is when.

another illustrative autobiography

Me in picture form. This one's for those of you who don't like to read huge long posts. I love you, too.

\

what the cuss???

Just now my friend Caitlyn came to work to visit me. I was in the back, placing an order on my computation machine. Here is our conversation:

Caitlyn: so what are you doing tonight?
me: oh sh*******zzzzz (I said the fake swear but I should probably still censor)
Caitlyn: .....
me: going to the temple.
Caitlyn: ??????
me: my computer almost closed the tab I was working on. But it didn't.

I mean.

About a month ago I hit someone with my car. I say it like I'm talking about picking up grapes at the grocery store. Well, it wasn't like that. Although it did happen next to a grocery store. ANyway. I am now uber-paranoid when it comes to turning right at intersections because you never know when a pedestrian, or worse, a bicyclist WITHOUT A HELMET will jump/ride/cartwheel out in front of your car and BAM.

Nobody got hurt (except my car, of course..poor thing) because I was going 2 MPH and it basically just knocked her over. But I just want everyone to know that anytime you hit someone/something with your car, it will sound like you've killed them. There will be no doubt in your mind that you've murdered someone with your car. Even if the "someone" happens to be a cone in the road. The impact of your car+something slightly smaller=you guilt tripping for at least a month on the almost-death you caused. It's a situation.

Other times I have said "It's a situation":
1) when looking in the mirror after a workout (or before a workout. so basically anytime)
2) when accidentally swiping right on Tinder
3) when buying ice cream+feminine hygiene products in the same trip (said to the checkout person)
4) when accidentally running my cart into the back of a really cute boy's shopping cart because I was too busy staring at him to steer (YES THIS REALLY HAPPENED)
5) when my little sister asks me how my dating life is (at least once a week)
6) when I'm trying to unlock the door to my apartment and my bladder is full and I can't find my keys

look down at my phone and realize what my priorities are

what I texted my brother after the Ducks lost

if you don't put salt on pretty much everything, first of all why

"Ike...Ike...that needs more salt...here...just...let me...salt it for ya....

YESS THE CUPCAKE IS MINE!"

(my thoughts in this picture, probably)

I have no less than 3 salt shakers on my desk at work. That's right, three. I just ate some chips and dip for lunch (duh, what else), and I salted the dip. I also ate a creme brulee after that...with salt on it. Back in 2008, my doctor was all, "McKenzie, you don't have enough sodium in your body." So I said, "Oh no, whatever shall I do. I guess I have to salt all my food." And I did. And I still do. So don't be offended if you cook for me and I throw a lil' salt on top. I'm just tryna enhance all my senses, ok?

Do you guys remember that York Peppermint Patty commercial from like 10 years ago, with the old guy eating a patty and the minty-ness was just really overpowering apparently, and he opened his mouth, revealing a toothless grin, and said "I like any sensation!" Gross. Yuckfest. Yuckmesiter yucko. Right? Me and Liz got some mileage out of that one for awhile. We still do, but we did back then too. Heh.

I bet half of you have already given up on this post by now. You're like "Why is she still writing? What's the point of this even?" I don't know. I never know.

Last night I was sitting in bed reading/writing/solo jamming (alt-j lately. I know. I know.) and I actually hugged myself. I put down my pen and gave myself a hug. Then I wrote about it in my journal. I said "Do you guys wanna hear something really pathetic/cheesy/lame? I just hugged myself. I. Just. Hugged. Myself." And yes, I write my journal as if I'm talking to my future posterity. I think they'll appreciate it. If they ever come into existence.

Jk, jk. That's not what I really think, mom.

This is what I have been thinking lately (as in the last 24 hours)

1) this needs more salt
2) I should probably kiss someone soon before I explode
3) maybe that someone should just be an animal
4) wait no maybe a person
5) this needs more salt?!?!?
6) ugh.
7) my back feels kinda weird ever since somebody who shall not be named popped it
8) it was Trent
9) I never realize how depressed I am in the winter until the sun comes out again and then I'm like "Yooo everybody is my best friend I love everyone here have a free Capri-Sun! Windows down all day! Yayyyyy the sun!" It's that bad.
10) would that I could grow out this awkward haircut already!!
11) I wonder when the trend of saying "Would that" instead of "I wish that" went out of style. I wonder if it was ever a trend....
12) I can't wait til the sun comes out and I can run again and trip over flat surfaces again and air-drum to Twenty One Pilots while I'm running again.
13) If I had guns for hands a lot of people would be accidentally dead because of me because #klutzbomb.
14) I just found a post-it note that said "Don't forget to.." and the rest of it was blurred out. Maybe by tears? Idk but now I know I'm forgetting to do something important #struggs
15) update: I forgot to buy concert tickets
16) wait should I even go to this concert....
17) I might get spit on again.
18) cry face emoji (yes that's right, I think in emojis)
19) Gosh this gum is good! (It's the Icebreakers' brand of gum and it is the uncontested winner)
20) five cry face emojis
21) I wonder if I have an RBF and that's why people are always telling me to cheer up. I'm sorry I don't just sit and smile at nobody and nothing. I'm sorry!
22) I'm not really sorry. I wish I was in the mountains.
23) I should stop thinking and just take an 8 hour nap.

A day in the life of McKenzie's head. I bet you wish you hadn't read that. Right? Five minutes you'll never get back. Except now you know that Icebreakers gum is best and I like salt.

It's been a productive day.

mo(re popcorn plz)vie night: guardians of the galaxy

cats waking up computers is my favorite thing

It took long enough, but I finally sat down to watch Guardians of the Galaxy. All of my friends went and saw it without me multiple times, but in the end I watched it with my parents. They're really good movie night compadres, you know. My mom was an actress and my dad studied screenwriting. So. #moviesnobs (all of us up in here)

I'm currently in the mood to barf up everything I eat (new medication, hooolllaaa), so this seemed like a good activity. You know. Watching a film and taking notes on it and not thinking about how I'm hungry at all times but everything makes me want to gag. Even EGGS, which are my #1 most consumed food. Ehh terrible grammar, plz forgive me, I am not well.

When I stare at my eggs (wow that did not sound okay or right at all), I imagine them turning into something better, like a cheeseburger, which 5 minutes later also makes me wanna puke. 

The other night I was at Wal-Mart and my stomach was complaining at me, bein' like "Yoooo Kenzie, hook me up with some nutrients! I'm gonna send a signal to your brain soon that makes you run into a pole if you don't give me food!" (that has happened before) So, panic-stricken, I grabbed the first thing that sounded good: chocolate milk. I call it "chalkie milk" but that's beside the point. Well, okay, maybe I said "CHALKIE MILK!" out loud in a panicky voice as I reached for it, and the old guy standing nearby kinda looked at me as if to say "What fresh hell is this?" I know, old guy. I know. Dis how I feel:

Alright, so, onto this movie "review" (loose term for what I've written below). Spoiler alert: I give it 5 stars, 2 Stanley Nickels, and 1 Unicorn.

All of this came from the 2 pages of notes I took during the movie. I'm sorry that I'm citing my sources, even if the sources are me. Can't help it (English major 5ever).

******

(the asterisks make me look like I know what I'm doing)

Firstly, what the heck, Mitchum Huntsberger is in this??????? Only for 5 minutes, but boy does he look different in flannel.

..or therapy, cuz your wife is CGI and your son just got sucked into outer space

*but is he really the father?!???!?? or some random uncle?

My sincere reaction when I saw Starlord's mom on the hospital bed: "Why is his mom a mannequin? Or is she supposed to be a robot...?" My dad: "Shush!" I guess I'm the most insensitive human ever. Dear CGI, why you gotta do me like that?????? That's my real-life excuse too, like when I mistake a manly-woman for a man. "Heheh sorry...it's just the CGI." People will believe that, right?

When they talk about using a thesaurus and say "it's a metaphor" this is all I can think of:

ugh. Augustus 4ever (not really though because....oh shoot...who here hasn't read that book?)

And back to the current movie at hand...

I could really use one of those automatic armor things that jet-blasts you out of a dangerous situation. Or maybe like when you see your crush and you're buying tampons! OR WORSE, YOUR PROFESSOR. Yeah, that would be handy.

This entire place looks like the cover of a Boston album.

Am I right??

WAIT KIRK IS IN THIS TOO?!? (another Gilmore Girls character...like Mitchum...geesh) And Merrill from The Walking Dead. EEEEEE. Who has a glowing red stick of butter on his head. That makes him slightly less intimidating. But I still hate his guts (only made it through that show for 2.5 seasons, BT-dubz).

Why is the tree drinking water?

Oh.

Tree+raccoon with attitude=already been done before

I could comment on this picture for various reasons.

.........

...

..

I'd just like everyone to know that I put on lip stain before this movie and one hour into it, the lip stain is still going' strong! (This actually proves nothing)

*commercial break over*

Also Chris Pratt is the Starlord cuz he barely blinked when he got kicked in the crotch. Apparently it was like getting hugged by a Care Bear.

Okay, let me explain why Mike Birbiglia is up here. I JUS now realized that he plays Patrick, the leader of support group, in The Fault in Our Stars (a movie I reference earlier in this blog post, WHAT). I googled Mike Birbiglia cuz he has a funny quote about what it feels like to get kicked there. It would've proven my point about Chris Pratt being the Starlord because of his reaction to aforementioned verbosity. gET IT?! What is this life????? Also, he sorta looks like Andy Dwyer in this pic. Also played by Chris Pratt. My brain hurts. Gotta go take a quick break and eat a smoothie.

****

(more asterisks. indicative of a long pause.)

When Groot stuck his branches up that Blue Man Group Troll's nose I wanted to sneeze sODANGbad. Film is so powerful, guys.

Why do bad guys always have big chins? Jay Leno isn't a terrible human (or is he...wait don't tell me I want to stay innocent), but his chin would suggest otherwise, based on the logic of every Hollywood movie ever.  OR if you're watching The Living Scriptures videos, big nosed guys are the evil ones. Those Pharisees were like olden-day Owen Wilsons. Wow. What was that sentence even.

doesn't he look like he's ready to throw some innocent person into prison? especially with that rose shirt on. And the wind blowing his perfect coif in the wind.

Coif is a great word.

Back to the movie.

Oh man. I love slow-mo gun throws. <<-I think I just made up a new bumper sticker!

Footloose reference?! Yes. 10/10 stars. Whatever that means. I'm just going to say it: I love Footloose. The original. Even that ridiculous scene when Kevin Bacon does really dramatic back flips in a wife beater...in the Lehi Roller Mills. Like wth??!?

unfortunately I stumbled on this picture while trying to find the gif of Kevin Bacon dancing in Footloose. 

Halfway through the movie I realized I'm still wearing a bra.
*adjustment*
Me, out loud to no one in particular: "This movie just got 10x better!"

So there's an idea. If you're ever watching a movie for the first time (or you're doing any activity for the first time) and you don't know how lame it might be, keep your bra on. Halfway through, take your bra off and the movie will either go from bad to okay or awesome to amazing. TRY IT.

This purple orb thing would make an excellent flashlight. But not as good as Trent's. Ask him about his flashlight sometime. If you have like an hour to spare.

My mom, at the end of the movie: "What is a turd blossom?"

Just don't think about it.

          

          

Chris Pratt for President.