me: "I just want attention right now." houston: "then please write a blog post about me."

This is the first post I have written since being marriaged. Houston is rubbing my feet while I write another blog post of our conversations (he likes to think these posts are all about him, but he wouldn't have anyone to impress with his wit if it weren't for me). 

H: "And on the couch you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." 

H: "Did u know I've proposed to so many girls they call me the Lord of the Rings?"

Houston: "I was the fastest guy in my high school....{long pause}... at fifteen puzzle."

From Jaws: "all they do is swim, eat, and make little sharks."

Houst: "that's all I wanna do!

*at DI*

"Should we set the lampshades on fire and play Modest Mouse?"



"I have crinkle chips"

Me: "I want ironed chips..from the ironed curtain."

M: "I need some gloves."

H: "I have some Michael Jackson gave me. They're all for the left hand though."

H: "If I walked up to you and said 'hey soul sister I'm your mister mister' what would be your response?"

M: "I would punch you ."

H: "Right response." 

H: "I could've picked the princess in the guarded tower, but..instead I picked the one who was always asleep. "

(When watching Skyfall)

H: "You know how the bad guy had fake teeth? Do you think he called them Judy Denchers?" 

cute

H: "When we get married, what are you gonna do at night when you realize I'm a vigilante? 

You'll turn to me and say "oh baby come closer" but I'll be gone. And so will the curtains cuz I'll be wearing them."

*At the Thai restaurant they were out of wontons*

Houston: "It's probably because they closed Wontonomo Bay."

*staring at the rock face in Zion*

H: "How much do you think it would cost to get my face chiseled on that rock?" 

*arguing about plot holes in About Time and him saying Pokémon is better "There's no plot holes in Pokémon!!"

"One day I'll have a boat just for ferrying fishermen. I'm going to name it Carrie Fisher." 

"My phone is like TGI Fridays....endless apps."

*at Best Buy*

Do you remember the guy who helped you?

Uhhh he had a blue polo on.

*on our way to Greek food* H: "I'm the Greekiest Greek Greek Freak."

"Oh I think I'm gonna need frozen yogurt to get through this."

*going into wal mart*

"You're just like Survivorman...but instead of a Swiss Army knife your thing has plastic spoons."

moi: "Oh honey..."

H: "Uh, please call me by my Christian name."

Me: "To every season turn turn turn.... "

H: "To every butter churn churn churn"

H: (no context) "When are we gonna get our next Justin Bieber? First we had Aaron McCarter, then Bieber...but now...we are in an apostasy until God chooses another Bieber." 

*watching LOTR and somebody said Mordor*

H: "Lowe's has more doors."

M, regarding littering: "The world is not your trash can!"

H: "But the trash can is my world."

@ my future: don’t be hasty

Tonight I was packing up my room for the umpteenth time + all the STUFF (pointless stuff) I’ve accumulated over the years and I started to think, as one does....when I started to realize how much of myself has been collecting itself behind me, like a little trail. So I started to get a little nostalgic, because duh. I have so many journals full of entries like this one:

“Sometimes I just WANT to be married and sometimes I’m content being alone. I think I need to be with someone who makes me prefer not being alone, because I honestly really like it.”

Yeah. Yep. Did you know I was two days overdue because I was just too comfy in my mom’s womb? (sorry mom) The doctors even put her on Pitocin, but I would not budge. She got into a Jacuzzi and I floated around happily. #INTROVERT She chewed on ice chips through those contractions and I was like “No thank you, I’m not coming out!”

I’ve always kept myself far from change--as far as I could, anyway. But then 2014 happened. The Butterfly Year. Is that we call those? The year (or years) of life when you metamorphasize from a fuzzy, hungry, fat caterpillar who mostly sleeps into...A CREATURE THAT FLIES! (one is obviously better than the other) That was my year. As evidenced by those aforementioned journal entries (many of them stained with tears), that was the year God really tested me...at times to the point where I thought I would surely break.

I filled up word documents with quotes to help heal the wounds. And I wrote. I prayed, and I ran. Yes, literally running away from my problem(s) helped. I talked to my parents probably more than I ever had before. And slowly, I healed. But then I was a different person--a better version of myself. And that person wanted different things than Kenzie 1990-2013 had wanted. Or maybe she just wanted to obtain those things differently. I mean, nothing was working my way. I decided to bend.

“And we, ourselves, also, through the infinite goodness of God, and the manifestations of his Spirit, have great views of that which is to come; and were it expedient, we could prophesy of all things.

And it is the faith which we have had on the things which our king has spoken unto us [faith in Christ] that has brought us to this great knowledge, whereby we do rejoice with such exceedingly great joy.”

Mosiah 5:3-4 (emphasis added)

I finally finished applying for grad school, after dragging my feet for ages. Seriously--I knew I should apply for grad school a week before I graduated from BYU-Idaho. In 2012. I took the GRE in Fall 2013. Didn’t bother looking at the results because I wanted to stay right where I was. But after 2014, I decided to stop ignoring those promptings I was getting and just see what happened. So I did. I moved to Logan without knowing a single soul there, save for Emily, who let me stay in her house for a week (I still love you for that, Em. And for the pillow chocolates). I lived out of my car for that week, too. I was so embarrassed to be driving around the town with pillows and lampshades and boxes in the backseat of my car. I didn’t eat very much because I didn’t get paid until October 1st (sorry mom...again).

I started teaching college English classes--something you never would’ve caught me imagining, let alone actually doing, not even a year before. I began to write again--for real. Words came out of me that I didn't know were there. I cried a lot. I kept praying, man. I didn't give up but I wanted to all the time. The insomnia that first semester of grad school nearly did me in (BaRF). Something funny happens after you turn into a butterfly--you don’t become invincible. Hard things still happen to you. In fact, their frequency probably increases a little bit. But dontcha see? It’s because you were never meant to be a butterfly or a caterpillar or any kind of insect because you’re a human, dangit! And humans are divine.

As soon as I began to let go of all the things I wanted to control about my life and give them to someone who knew me better than I did, my life changed. I changed. Everything about the last two years is still surreal to me. Every bit of it. I could’ve never guessed that any of it would happen.

And so, if you’re worried or anxious about your future, thinking that maybe something you really, really want isn’t in the cards for you...well, I bet it is. And it’s probably gonna be even better than you think, because you’re not a butterfly yet. Have I beaten that metaphor to death yet?

I re-read those journal entries from 2014, and guess what? I got everything I was mourning over/praying for, but it came to me tenfold.

Don't give up. Don't do it. It's a trick.

what is "blogging"?

replace "leather shop" with "intimate wedding and elopement photographer" and "Arizona" with "Utah"

Guys.

GUYS IT'S ME.

*shakes your shirt collar dramatically*

How many of you are wondering if I used those asterisks-thoughts in my thesis? Well, well, well.
I. Didn't.

I hardly remember how to do this anymore. What do I say? What do you guys wanna know? Who are you? Isn't blogging dead now (thanks Instagram, thanks for the....for nothing)? ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

One of these days an entire blog post of mine is just gonna be question marks and that's it.

Uh, so I guess updates? I don't have a fancy camera and I'm not a videographer and I don't wear the fancy hats and I guess that's what validates a blog nowadays but I'll probably never have/be those things, at least not as long as this blog exists, so bear with me.

Speaking of "bear with me," I've seen it spelled a bit differently in my time grading papers these past two years. Yes. Bare with me. That sounds like an invitation to get naked. No thank you.

Other unfortunate misspellings:

I would of spelled this correctly if I knew how. I really would of done that if I could of but I can't of.

And then people become out ragged.

Yeah, I get out ragged when you can't spell things, too.

Teachers shouldnt give students so much homework becuz the students get tired and then don't get anything dun. Which is bad for their health. 

Totally agree with you, buddy.

Recently I went to the doctor for a follow-up what I thought was a follow-up. But it wasn't, because as soon as she walked in, her eyes pointed to the robe. And she was like "When I come back in here you need to be wearing just that."

"Sorry. I can't. I'm allergic to nudity."

When I was 11, I got my period for the first time (you all know that story). My mom was good at comforting me (for the most part), but there was one line forever burned into my brain back then, and it came back to haunt me as I sat on the exam table:

"Oh McKenzie. I'm excited for you to experience the Stirrup Phase of your life." Girl, you know she said "excited" with that twinge of sarcasm and regret for having given me the extra x chromosome. Wait. That wasn't her fault. #science

The Stirrup Phase is the name of a book we'll be co-authoring in a few years, give or take (however long it takes me to become mature, so, could be ages from now).

I cannot write all the things she said at this appointment because this is...on the internet and I can't overshare everything but let's just say if Betty White + Professor McGonagall were one person, that person would...definitely not be an OBGYN but, if she were, she would be my doctor.

Dear Diary,
My first blog post in months was a roaring success. 

things houston says: third degree

I couldn't think of any other term including the word "third" besides "the third man," and that's....that's not what I wanted to say.

so innocent. er...innocent-looking. 

"I should become a de-motivational speaker. People will listen to me talk and think 'Wow, nothing is possible.'"

"I was at the Minnesota Vikings game, and they were selling deep fried cheese curds with bacon bits in them. Eating those is probably the worst thing you could be caught doing."

"But you ate them?"

"Yeah, of course.

Me: "I'm always worried about running into him."

H: "Well, just never run."

"I like to know what events I'm missing so I have more pleasure when I'm doing the other thing instead. [for example] I think his town hall is boring but I could be at the trebuchet activity."

Somebody mentioned the Spice girls. Houston: "I love that band! Them and the Dixie Chicks."

H: "You pulled up to me with wild abandon."

H: "With gusto."

M: "With Gaston!"

H: "...."

M: "It was worth a shot."

H: "Harambe was worth a shot."

*veers wildly into the street and begins to play the Black Keys*

"Now that you're probably savoring your life a bit more, you can really enjoy this song."

*accidentally touches my butt*

H: "Sorry, I didn't notice where it merged into butt."

M: ?????????

H: "It's true though. I hadn't ascended the hill yet."

(no context) H: "I don't remember any of my dentists."

*putting our hands together*

Me: "What movie is this from?"

H: "Just Like Heaven." 

Me: "How do you know that?"

H: "I've seen every chick flick every MADE. *whispers* I saw Something Borrowed....twice."

*at the grocery store, we saw a group of people straight outta the 90s

M: "Why are they wearing turtlenecks and overalls?"

H: "They're wearing their parents clothes or something..."

M: "This is a roller coaster I never wanted to get on!"

H: "Are you having emotion-sickness?"

M: "I need the blanket...are you on it?"

H: "I need meth...are you on it?"

*talking about a certain movie

M: Who was the director of that one?
H: He who must not be named...*voice lowers* James Cameron.

*sees sign*

"I hope someday I can hold that title!"

*talking about 12 tribes of Israel*

"I'm from a tribe...called Quest." 

(I was tired and couldn't complete a sentence) 

H: "Yeah...sometimes when people look at my face...they just can't finish their sentences. A cop pulls me over and just goes uhh...you can go."

I write THEM a ticket. For disturbing MY peace. 

Houston: "We'd be the hottest couple in hell."

Everyone: "Wanna watch Gilmore Girls?"

Houston: "No. I have testicles."

*very seriously to me* H: "Have you ever had an account at farmersonly.com?"

"Next year we should have Thanksgiving in a mattress store."

H: "How tall are you again?"

M: "5'3"

I was just wondering if you could join the lollipop guild...

H: "What kind of mom do you think Bath-Sheba was?"

M: "My dad took a class from High Nibley."

H: "Hugh Nibley took a class from me."

*before Christmas devotional*

H: "I don't want a nose ring...I want an eye ring (Eyring)."

Me: "[Star Wars] Episodes 1-3 were so bad."

Houston: "Yeah that's why they originally aired on the Hallmark Channel."

DAGGER IN THE HEART

*loud growl*

Me: "Oh that was my stomach."

H: "Oh I thought it was a train passing above the house."

*sees woman using walker*

H: "Do you think she named it Paul?"

Houston, introducing me at Thanksgiving dinner: "She's constantly on the verge of her next nap."

*Sees guy sweeping salt at Sam's Club*

H: "Geez, save some for the Lake."

H: "The show Naked and Afraid is about people using the showers in the MTC."

M: "You think everything is a front. See that Herberger's over there? It's a front."

H: "There's no way Herbergers stays in business if it's not a front!" 

(but really...everything is a front to Houston)

*looks at self in self checkout*

H: "Self checkout..."

*this happened as I was typing up this blog post*

H: "When we have a daughter can we name her Lisa?"

*long pause*

"And then name our son...Bart?"

Me: "no."

Recently, Houston and I decided to start a music blog. Yesterday we were coming up with URL ideas. This is what Houston came up with over an excruciating hour of brainstorming:

• www.hamwisebanshee.com
• www.ringostarfish.com
• www.JohnCenaaaaaa.com (we had to spell it with five A's because everything else was taken)
• www.cucumberslumber.com (he said this one in a very sing-song voice)
• www.jumpropes4kids.com (???????)
• www.swoonthewizard.com (again, what?)
• www.RichardDryFace.com
• www.logspot.com (obviously a blog about logs)
• www.forrestgrump.com
• www.DanielNightLewis.com

walkin' in a slushy wetland full of discarded gum wrappers and sadness

What? I don't write the Christmas Carols, I just...sing them.

It's that time of year when Christmas is literally one week away and I'm still drowning in grading. And, just to make sure those eyebags of mine never go away, I signed up for an online class. During the break. During the three weeks of the year when I should be writing my thesis. Yes, during that time.

I haven't posted much on this blog this semester because of reasons like such as because oh wait what was I saying? 

As I was grading earlier today, I happened upon this line: "Unrealistic is defined as something that is not real." 

Me:

sad: there were other lines just like that one

sadder: this was the first image that popped up on Google search when I typed "Kuzco's poison"

saddest: the comment underneath the image

SO ANYWAY HOW IS EVERYONE ELSE DOING.

This isn't supposed to be a complaining post but it's starting to turn into one....werhph. You know what, this is my blog, and I can spell things wrong all I want and I can complain and then one day this blog will be archived, just like DJ Trump's Twitter. Just think about that for a second....wait no maybe don't.

this week:

• I consistently went to bed at 1am only to fall asleep at around 3am, which happens to be the same time the birds living in my ceiling wake up. 
• YEAH THERE'S BIRDS LIVING IN MY CEILING.
• Anyway.
• I slept in my clothes twice. There is no longer a difference between my asleep clothes and my awake clothes.
• I responded to a student email with "Hey girl" before I realized who I was talking to
• I found an M&M in my bed and threw it on my nightstand, whereupon it broke into like 5,000 pieces. I shrugged and went back to bed.
• I cried in the shower a couple times (totally normal for this time of year, don't werrryy, mom).
• I watched one too many Hallmark movies (more than 0 is too many). Every year, g-dangit. Every year I think I won't get sucked in and then I start to watch one and get confused by all the plot holes and fast forward to the end and roll my eyes and then watch another one. Is this how addicts feel? Must be.
• I had a brownie and/or cookies for lunch...thrice. 
• I used the word thrice.

Hey what day is it? Because I keep thinking it's Wednesday and Wednesday has only happened once this week so I know I'm wrong.

I might need a stretcher by the time May 5th rolls around. 

things that matter/things that don't

source

This has been on my mind lately. Especially lately. Ok so listen.

This week in digital folklore, we talked about the weirdness of identity. The weirdness of identity=my thesis (but in poetry form). Basically, what we think about ourselves is not what we use to express ourselves, but it's all we have. So like your clothes, your hair, your makeup, your cool toys, your books, your taste in music, none of that really expresses who you are. Then there's what you think other people think of you, which gets weirder. Because that's not who you are either, but it's a lot easier to talk about. We care way more about how others think of us than how we think of us. And it's even further from our true selves than what we use to communicate who we are. Are you still following dis?

Okay so then we get to what we think others think we think we are. And what they think we think they think we are. WAT. But it's all about us, about our identities, and how they are really weird and defining them gets weirder. What we have to define them are things like words, which are so abstract. They are simply not enough to express things like love (for instance, you may love your spouse, but you also love that bag of chips on the counter) or sadness or guilt. 

As I'm scrolling through Instagram these days, I see a lot of people doing amazing things/being amazing. They have perfect lives, o woe is me! Why? Why does this bother us? We demand imperfection! We want to know that people are real, and imperfections=real. And yet, seemingly perfect people are the ones with all the followers (real or internet-ish). The equation just doesn't add up.

Which brings me to the eternal things. The things that do matter because they have permanence. A.M. Royden said, "Learn to hold loosely all that is not eternal." And I think what's bothering me about all of the stuff on Instagram, all the stuff that gets attention... is not permanent. But we spend so much time thinking about it. We're not just spending money on it, we're spending time and energy on it. And yo, I don't have a lot of time or energy these days. Not nearly enough is left over to worry about the midcentury modern furniture I don't have or the trips I am not going on or the lipstick I absolutely positively must buy cuz it doesn't smudge.

It makes sense that focusing too much on those things would make me feel out of place and miserable and weird, cuz those things aren't eternal, but I am. Even though there's parts of my identity that are hard to define, there are things I do know: I am a child of God, I always have been, and I always will be. I am eternal.

this list is for me, but it could be for you, too.

things that do matter:

• my family + any time I spend with them
• making the burdens of those around me much lighter
• praying as much as I can to feel peace in a confusing world
• keeping my eyes on the Savior
• temple work
• teaching my future children to be kind human beings

things that don't matter (in the eternal scheme of things):

• whether or not I put on makeup today
• how many cardigans I own
• how many concerts I went to this year
• if I have adult acne (ugh)

That last list was way harder to make than I thought it would be. I'm not saying that just because temporal things are just that--temporal--we shouldn't spend any time on them. If putting on makeup every day makes you feel good about yourself, do it. But if you happen to lack perfectly sculpted brows, I don't think you should beat up yourself about it. The thing I am most afraid of is extremism, and right now I find myself leaning too far towards caring about things that have no eternal value at all. And really, it's getting old. 

'"The Son of man came … to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45) is one of the clearest statements in the Gospels about the meaning and purpose of Jesus Christ’s suffering, death, and Resurrection--they were the price He paid to redeem all mankind. “Ransom” is translated from the Greek word lutron, meaning a sum paid to secure another person’s release from bondage or captivity. In Old Testament times, when someone was in bondage, the price of his release was expected to be paid by his kinsmen (see Leviticus 25:48–49). As the Firstborn of our Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ paid the ransom required to free all mankind from the bondage of sin. According to 1 Peter 1:18–19, the ransom was paid not “with corruptible things, as silver and gold, … but with the precious blood of Christ.'"

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.)