10.25.2016

this one is dedicated to my apple chips. sure love ya.



Oh this is just too hilarious.

For fours years I lived in Rexburg, ID and was therefore surrounded by engagement ring ads constantly. You think I'm kidding? No. They actually go around to all the student apartments and leave catalogs on all the porches. In fact, some of our guy friends cut out pictures of the bride models and hung them on their wall (but I'm not gonna open that can of worms-needing-therapy).

After that I graduated and went back to the same singles ward I'd been going to for four years. I had crushes on a few guys but they were never monumental enough to make me do anything.

Enter Tinder. I used Tinder only for fun and then the guys started blocking me (I only responded to them with Van Halen lyrics, so I deserved this). And so I shrugged and said, "That's okay, dating is not for me."

School was, though. Always school. So I moved and came to get an education for the jillionth time it would seem. That first semester nearly crushed my soul in half it was so hard. I walked into my parents' house after my last day of classes and fell face down on the ground for a well-earned nap.

The next semester was easier (but colder). On January 2(?) I went to FHE down the street. I hadn't gone to FHE during the fall semester because I'd had a class on Monday evenings, so my new goal was to start going so people didn't think I was inactive (this will become funnier in just a second).







So. We go to this house and there's people there I don't know, obviously, because I haven't been going to FHE. We make a pinata and play "water pong," but mostly I sit there and watch and take stupid videos/pictures of everyone with my boomerang app. Observe:




On January 30th it snowed a bunch, so the next morning I was slightly late for church because I had to change out of my winter boots into church shoes (in the car) (in the church parking lot), which gets complicated when you don't want to flash anyone.

I remember feeling really sick that day because my health was still on the down low, so I went home after church and was literally laying down for a nap when my phone rang. I was like "???!?!?!?? who's calling me right now???? I need to sleep."

Normally I would've ignored this call and just pretended I was sleeping because naps are essential to my life, but I did not. I answered. It was the FHE "mom and dad" (the two people in charge of coordinating FHE for each group) wanting to come over right then and visit me. Again, my thought was ?????????? because this was unusual. I wasn't a part of planning FHE at all, and they weren't my visiting or home teachers, so why were they coming over, g-dangit?!

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and went upstairs. I know that I looked exhausted and my skin had a yellow tint because my liver was acting up (cute), but I did not care.

Later I found out that they thought I was inactive (told you) because Houston, whose name I legitimately thought was Dennis (because they sound incredibly similar, you know) had looked up everyone in the group on Facebook, seen me, and said to himself, "I've never seen her before, she has to be inactive." HA. Joke's on you, Houston/Dennis. Joke's on you.

Well, after chatting with me and my roommate, they realized I was not inactive, just a grad student, and that I had in fact been coming to church for the entire fall semester. They left, I went back to bed. Later, Houston came back to my house to shovel the driveway (later he told me he was hoping he'd see me again, but again, I was passed out in my bed, HA). I woke up to the sound of people trying to break up the icebergs in our driveway, went back upstairs, and started to make banana bread cuz the smell of ripe bananas is awful, amirite? I wasn't doing it to impress anyone because I didn't think there was anyone to impress.

They came in, I told them they could have banana bread if they wanted, but it had forever to bake and they had to go so I just said I'd bring some to FHE the next day.

a picture of me on that day. we got stuck in our driveway even after they shoveled it. 

just to illustrate the snow. lots of it. there was a lot. of snow. such snow.

After FHE the next night, I realized I'd forgotten to give them the banana bread I'd promised, so I just texted Houst asking him if he still wanted some. By this point in time, my roommate Kyrie was like "Hmm I think he likes you," and I set out to prove her wrong because I'm always right about boys. I was like "if he really likes me he'll find a reason to stay and hang out when he comes to get the bread..."

He said he'd come get it. When he got to my house, he stood in the doorway...didn't even come inside all the way. He kept saying "I'm soooo tired, man I'm tired, my eyes are so heavy, I need to hibernate, wow exhausted..." you get the picture. I thought to myself, "Bingo, he does not like me" but I wasn't that disappointed because I wasn't emotionally invested in it. I gave him the banana bread and said "Haha, yeah, maybe go to bed??? Byeeeeee." *slams door in face* (just kidding)

The following things then happened, in this order:
  1. That weekend, on Saturday morning, I got a really long text from Houston asking me if I wanted to go see a movie with him and his friends, but... they were in Ogden. I said "Oh yeah that would be fun but I don't have a car..." This is funny because it's a pattern in my life. When I have loads of free time + transportation, nobody asks to hang out, but as soon as I become a wandering car-less vagabond people wanna chill. The injustice!
  2. That weekend, I also got called to be a part of the FHE planning committee. Nice move, God. Smooth. 
  3. I texted Houston to ask him what my calling entailed, he said we would have a meeting the next Monday after FHE.
  4. The conversation ended.
  5. ...Until ten minutes later when he started texting me again. That's when I was like "hmmm...highly suspect...he's asking me if I like his tie? Weird." Still kind of oblivious. It was Super Bowl weekend and I was doing everything but watch the Super Bowl. He still asked me if I was, though, and I said "No way, I'm making valentine's." And then he said, "Did you make me one?" Still, though. I mean still. I was not picking up what he was putting down. I said "Uh, yeah" and sent him a pic of the one that said "I'd Never Vote for Trump. Not Even For You." Tru luv.
  6. So, that next Monday, FHE was a fireside/devotional about dating and marriage. The angels in heaven were really trying to drop the hints on me, I guess, but I was not getting it. Houston walked in late but sat right in front of us. I felt sorta awkward because...well, it's like when you have a dream about someone and then you see them in public again and you're like "ah we had a weird moment in my dream now I don't know how to act around you." Except it wasn't a dream it was real LIFE which made it more uncomfortable for me.
  7. Anyhow, during that fireside my roommate passed him a note or texted him or something and said "If you need tips on how to date McKenzie, just ask me." I was soooo embarrassed when I found out she did that later. Like mortified. Apparently he turned red in the face so that made me feel even more uncomf. Kyrie, being Kyrie, totally invited him to eat dinner with us after that, and since I couldn't eat the food they were eating, I just sat there and watched goat videos and laughed like an idiot. It was more like I was the third wheel. Perfect.
  8. After "eating" at Morty's, we dropped Houston back off at his car. My bladder was full (I had been drinking lots of water due to being uncomfortable, here's a citation if you need one), so I ran into the church to go to the bathroom. Didn't say goodbye or anything. But everyone who's read this blog since its inception knows that my bladder's grace period is basically the size of...well I can't think of anything tiny that would make sense to complete this metaphor and I'm very sleep-deprived right now. MOVING ON. I came back out to the car and he was still in there. ? You'd think by now I would say something really flirtatious, but instead I said, "You're still here?" By this time, the heavens were probably like, "Ok, this one is not worth it. Let's move on to someone more teachable." Then we talked about music for a little while and he left. As soon as he got out of his car Kyrie screamed, "OK OK I THINK HE LIKES YOU." I said "Huh? No." (I'm an English major) (sometimes it surprises even me, guys). 
  9. When we got home that night, Houston texted Kyrie (while she was with me) and said "Okay what are your tips?" The next Tuesday while I was tutoring in the writing center, he called me, and when I didn't answer, he texted me to ask me out. I'm such a terrible person, so I just called him back and left him a voicemail saying he had to call me back and ask me over the phone. HAH WHO AM I. *shudder*
  10. Because he could not wait for our date that Saturday, he set up a game night with my roommate to be at my house. He brought me apple chips because I was/am allergic to everything else.
  11. Our first date was February 13th. Like, what? Couldn't be any more obvious, right? God was basically dropping an anvil on me like "wake up, my child. WAKE UP." Well, the good news is, I woke up. And I wasn't dreaming. 











ignore my messy floor. Houst gave this to me a week after our first date. I know.


that same week, he came to one of my classes and pretended to be a student (his alibi: "I missed her morning class so now I'm coming to this one." we had a quiz that day.)




10.19.2016

embarrassing

Every gosh dang time I say "embarrassing" (out loud and in my head), I say it in the Ew Sara voice. How embarrassing. More embarrassing: it took me five tries to spell embarrassing correctly.

About a month ago, I was in the middle of a lecture (lolz, that sounds like a fancy version of what I was actually doing, which is tripping over my sentences/chewing on the end of my dry-erase marker while I called on students whose eyes were slowly betraying them like "helllpppp when does this class end").

ANYhow, I'm standing up there and all of a sudden the door opens, but not without some struggle. You see, this door is a little bit rickety because it's in the Engineering Lab (yes, my English class is in the Engineering Lab....whatever). This particular building has no windows because they want everyone at USU to easily identify engineering majors by their pale complexions and inability to make eye contact with anyone I guess. I don't even K. So anyhow, the hinges of this door probably haven't been serviced since 1973 and the kid on the other end (whoever he was) just could not get it open. I knew it wasn't any of my students cuz they were all accounted for (ha, it sounds like I'm taking roll after a natural disaster) (the natural disaster was my lecture) (ha ha ha, get it).

So in the middle of me talking, this door is just rattling and the guy on the other side is trying to get in but he just can't handle the door, and my students are now totally distracted by the door getting pushed open a little then closed again, then opened a little, then closed, then op

And I'm still talking to pretend like I don't know what's going on but let's be real I really wanted to see if this guy was going to make it through the door. The suspense was killing me.

Other things killing me in this moment:


  • a guy trying to open a door was more interesting to my students than my lecture
  • a guy trying to open a door was more interesting to me than my lecture
So finally after what seems like ten years he opens the door with a loud screech and it kinda swings open all dramatic and hits the wall on the other side like in mobster movies (uhhh citation please??). He stands there for another 5 years (time slows down when you're experiencing a humiliating moment in front of 20+ strangers...trust me. I know. I experience it twice a week). Realizes he's just "opened" (lol that's not the verb describing what he did but I honestly have no idea what it was) the door to a classroom he thought was his...but alas! It's not his class.

His eyes get really big and this awful knowledge starts to spread over his face...like he's suddenly aware of what he's done and he knows it's going to haunt him for years to come. Observe:
♫ Hit me like a freight train, baby 

You think the story ends here, and it would if this was a perfect, exalted world, and all the awkwardness was burned out of us by the Holy Ghost. But no. 

He slowly backs out of the classroom, "swinging" the door shut behind him (again, wrong verb, because whatever he did was not as simple or fluid as "swinging," but my words escape me when describing this scene). Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know that the old rubber doorstop fell down when he opened the door. So the door is now stuck.

He can't shut it and he couldn't open it. For him, this is Dante's Seventh Circle. Probably. Now he's yanking the door towards him without noticing the doorstop. All of us are frozen in place, looking down at the ground like, "Come on man, get it together, look down at the doorstop, it's right there, it's blocking the door, please shut the door, oh my gosh I can't take this awkwardness anymore, please can we dismiss class early and stop watching this kid try to close the door that he never meant to open, this is some kind of fresh hell...." I realize these are probably just my thoughts and not my students'. I realize that. 

Finally after much yanking and forehead-sweat-beadlets and buggy eyes and awkward grunts and faces like this from onlookers (me + my students):




...he closed the door. With a loud slam. And then we all exhaled finally and I tried to go on with the lecture but mostly we just fake-laughed to ourselves because what the actual he*k?! I feel for him, I truly do. Which is why I'm sharing his story on the world wide web.

10.18.2016

this granolie bar is ten levels below gross but I'm still eating it



me @ the internet, social media, newspapers, and almost everyone during election season. 
and Larabars. 

Once, like six years ago, I ran a Ragnar (for the first and last time, R(eeses) I(n) P(ieces) my body). We ate bananas and candy and those Goo packs which hardly need to be digested at all (and aren't really, if I'm being disgustingly honest). And we ate Larabars.

Larabars are healthy granola bars, basically made for people on Whole 30. That's because they're fruit, dates, and nuts, all mashed up and pressed into a rectangular mold and then given very deceptive names like "Brownie" and "Cashew Cookie" and "Key Lime Pie." When John tasted the Key Lime pie Larabar for the first time, he said, "Bleh, PineSol!" I'm eating a Larabar right now. /end story

I am *this* close to deleting my Facebook because the election.

I am also *this* close to deleting my brain because it's now "that time" (whatever that even means). Last night when I opened my textbook I heard myself saying "No, thanks." Senioritis has officially begun, and not a day late.

I have run into like ten students (current and former) this week, and only one has acknowledged me. Students, if you think running into your teacher is awkward, just remember it's 10x worse for them, cuz we already have to stand in front of you 2-3 times a week and pretend like we know what we're doing, and then when we see you on campus and wave to you for like five minutes without you acknowledging us....it's just....no. Nightmare. I think I even stood next to a student while he was walking and said "hey!" OUT LOUD and waved and he looked straight ahead. Meanwhile his friends were like ??????? hey lady????? u ok?????????????????????

I might have Tourette's, guys, but otherwise, I'm fine.

Weird things:

  • a girl I follow on Instagram said her boyfriend "is the best booger she's ever picked." Uh? Gross?
  • somehow the bottle of salt (bottle???) that's been on my desk for 4 months still has salt in it. weird.
  • I ate a Larabar (?!?) (still not over it) (and I have more at home)
  • Why? Do? I? Use? So? Many? Of? These?????????????????????????
  • one of my students wrote "I love you" in Spanish in his journal which he then turned into me. Should I write back? "No gracias."
One last thing. We had a devotional on Sunday at 5pm. Our church also gets out at 5pm, so my blood sugar was basically in the depths of hell at this point, so I sat in the foyer, ate a sandwich, and listened to the talks over the intercom (intercom?). Intercom. So. The theme of this fireside was "But If Not" (based off this talk, a great talk, by the way). BUT. There was no balance between "But if Not" and "But If So." The poster for this fireside was a close-up of a girl's eye with a solitary tear coming out of it. Uh....depressing. And it was. The fireside, I mean. I felt very discouraged afterwards. And then I came home and all my roommates were saying "But if not!" after every positive remark someone made. Merp.

OK WELL that was a random and pointless blog, you're thinking. And I'm thinking. And everyone is always thinking.