thoughts after an accidental 3 hour nap

The kind of nap that really ties you up and beats you up and you wake up totally disoriented and frothing with hate.

Well, not hate. 

Just...more tired. 

How can that be?

I really need to ride my bike to the dermatologist, but it is so hot.

Every summer I remember how hot it gets. Why do I forget? It's like when those monthly cramps come and every time, EVERY time I forget what it is. Every summer the heat wave starts to get more intense and then I remember just how much heat I can handle (not a lot). Which is not my favorite, because I would rather be warm than be cold.

I prefer the sun being out until 10pm instead of 5. Winter will now always remind me of never ending grading and insomnia.

So every summer I resolve to embrace heat again, just accept that I'm not going to bother fixing my hair or doing makeup or any of it because it all melts off of me. I am part wax. I accept this, and that's when I accept summer isn't out to kill me after all. Instead it's more of a recharging thing. Like how Superman is with the sun. 

I recently stopped taking my phone places--I was guilty of not enjoying things because I had my phone. Not because I needlessly surfed the Internet during a time when I could've been having an awkward conversation with a stranger or just (gasp) sitting in silence--although those are good enough reasons. I felt like I was doing a lot of things just to show that I did them on the Internet. 

Whom am I proving myself to? People on the Internet who don't know me and some who do, but the ones who do don't need proof...

Proof of what? Proof that I hike or make myself food or draw or sit on my roof sometimes to escape bugs (it doesn't work)? That's just me living my life, but ever since the invent of social media, everybody wants to share those normal things (good), but sharing them gets in the way of actually experiencing them (bad).

Sharing them means making them look better than they really looked (filters or perfect hand placing or what have you). 

And that part of it was giving me anxiety. I don't wanna spend the entire hike thinking of a caption to the picture I'm eventually gonna post of aforementioned hike! What is that?!

And so, last weekend we went to Peter Bjorn and John and I did not take my phone. I have no record of it. But the air was perfect and nobody spit on me (yes!) and they played our favorite song at the very end. I never once felt distanced from anyone because there was nothing between me and everyone else. No phone/other virtual world.

Recently, two women I follow on instagram lost their husbands very young. One of them wrote a post that struck me--she said that all of the things she used to post about--hair, clothes, recipes, etc--all of that was superficial. In her darkest hours, the most important things she'd clung to were her testimony and the love of her family. She reiterated that those are the most important things, and we should focus more of our daily energy on them. I felt guilty. Because I do that; I care too much about things that really don't matter.

Last night we went on a long walk and the sunset must've just known I didn't have my phone, because it was spectacular. Like if a hymn was a sunset. You know? I have no proof that these things happened, at least not tangible. But I can write what I remember--that's what I've always done. In the last few months, good writing has eluded me. I think I know why. I was investing all my creativity into one small thing, a small thing that yielded poor returns: likes. 

LIKES. I sold my soul to the devil for likes. But not anymore. I'll be writing much more and I hope you'll come back. If not, welllllll, I'll still be writing.

dude. this was where a guy killed that giant grizzly bear in the 1920's (10 ft tall, 1 ton, etc) (so much YIKE)

on a sidenote, Utah is really beauteous. always. forever. whoever says it's ugly

has never left their house.

the art of asking for things

I hate the weird encroaching feeling that I get sometimes when I haven't written on this blog in awhile. And I'm starting to think my actual journaling habits are starting to coincide with this blog as well. I cringe as I type this, but I haven't written a real-life journal entry in my beloved notebook for four months now. Anyway, blogging. Why do I feel obligated to share whatever happens to be in my head for the entire world to find/read/analyze/laugh at/laugh with/cry with? 

I'm sure many a blogger has had a "blogging existential crisis" and oft times it led them to just delete their blog altogether and then they have declared themselves "free." Well, it wouldn't be so for me. Like, I did that once. I didn't delete the blog, I just abandoned it, because it felt finished. In a certain English class many years ago, one of my poetry professors said no writing is ever finished, we just abandon it. So, whatever, it was finished, I abandoned it, the things I created the blog for had served their purpose and I put them in the proverbial Cemetery of Blogs (RIP and I'm sorry that people still find that blog because they google "redhead in overalls." I'm not sorry my blog is the first hit, I'm just sorry people are still googling that for some reason? Although overalls are making a comeback. I DIGRESS). But I need to write. I have to write somewhere, and blogging seems as good a place as any.

The point is, sometimes I have no idea why I am still blogging. Especially when I feel like I don't have anything to say, nothing. Since school got out for the summer I have been experiencing another round of writer's block, which comes to haunt me at the worst possible times--when I have nothing to do. I have TIME. I have actual time, reams of it, with which to work on my thesis or read or do anything but study, and yet inspiration eludes me. 

Instead I sit at a very small cubicle (technically it's an isosceles shape but there's not a name for desks shaped like triangles, k) every day and call 250 people a day and I rehearse the same words over and over and I get paid minimum wage to do that, because I still have to buy groceries, even though I don't feel like I'm doing a very good job of existing right now, yes I still have to eat. Dangit. 

And I give plasma (sorry mom) because of the same reasons and dadgummit I just hate this feeling of wasting time. 

So of course, after another day of letting it crash down on me, I crashed (literally) up against a chair and broke my pinky toe, and now I can't walk without looking like I'm coming forth from the Black Lagoon. This happens a lot. When I need to be humbled, God usually does it by way of physical ailment because then I have to--DUN DUN DUN--rely on other people. The horror! But really. A nightmare for someone like me who wants to be independent every ding dong day but also feels like a useless fish right now with no purpose but also still wants to try and do everything herself. 

So then God, all-loving and perfect parent that He is, says gently, "McKenzie, you need to practice reliance. Not just self-reliance, but reliance on others."

Think of it this way. Somewhere someone in your general arm's reach has prayed today for an opportunity to serve someone. It may have even been you that they prayed for specifically! And when you say, "No thanks, I can do it myself," even when you're literally limping to go to the kitchen, you're not letting that person's prayer be answered, and you're also being a stubborn donkey. Cut it out, McKenzie.

My point is, it's okay to ask. It's okay to ask for help, inspiration, patience, a physical helping hand, eternal perspective, understanding of sorrow, and all the other things.

That's what the scripture says: "Even more amazing than modern technology is our opportunity to access information directly from heaven, without hardware, software, or monthly service fees. It is one of the most marvelous gifts the Lord has offered to mortals. It is His generous invitation to “ask, and it shall be given you; seek,and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” This timeless offer to provide personal revelation is extended to all of His children. It almost sounds too good to be true. But it is true!" Russell M. Nelson "Ask, Seek, Knock"

I'm not saying the answers will come quickly or all at once. They usually hit me when I'm least expecting it. When I have waited for quite some time. I know I'm an impatient person because God makes me wait a lot--He's teaching me patience. My old stake president called them "at the buzzer moments." He said God loves "at the buzzer" moments. Right at that point when you think you just can't anymore, that's when he gives you the answer or the help or the inspiration or whatever it is. But He won't give you anything if you don't ask.Somehow I started a post about not feeling inspired and ended it with...asking. Hmm. Interesting.

I've now reached a point in my adulthood when going to bed at 11pm is "early" ew

I've been looking for an excuse to post this somewhere

Lest you think I have completely fallen off the wagon (ha, what is that phrase), I'm still writing. Mostly poetry. For my thesis. And I've been reading. Mostly poetry. For...yeah, you guessed it.

Other things I've been doing besides blogging:

• walking to and from the grocery store and exercising my arm muscles but mostly getting those weird sweat driblets from my arm crease? Woof.
• hammocking on Old Main Hill. The right side of the hill is immaculate and beautiful, while the left side is totally gross. It's a funny story. During the school year, someone put weed killer all over the newly planted grass instead of fertilizer. Hence, now there are dead, brown patches and other parts with weeds growing like they came straight outta Jumanji. It's bad. So I hammock on the right side, obviously, for aesthetic.
• driving to Idaho. jk, Houston drove to Idaho. but I was in the car. and it was my idea. also, Idaho isn't that far from Logan (try 20 minutes). I could probably suggest a trip to Sudan and he'd be like "sure, why not?" everyone should have someone like that in their life. well, not someone who would willingly go to Sudan. merp.
• eating my weight in string cheese and hummus. when summer comes, I no longer want meals-- just snacks. it's weird.  and it's not a weight thing. srsly.
• re-watching The Office. for some reason I never actually watched the episode when Michael leaves? Now I know why. Cry-fest.
• starting to work in the temple again. technically I don't start until next week but I got set apart and after that they said, "Welcome home!" :''''')

and now, pictures! I should probably put these first so you guys are lured into the blog post and then can leave whenever you want. whoops.

mi amor, Kyrbo, taking a pic of the sunset #candid

that rock I'm staring at in the distance=Angel's Landing. yeah we hiked the mountain ABOVE it, which is nothing short of hellacious, mostly because there's no shade and it's 8ish miles uphill. but we dID IT, amen.

me on the last day of school picking up thesis books from the library. I have been to the library three more times since then. YEAAAAAAAAA 

on the way home from St. Jorge, we got caught in a storm

on the Idaho border, woo

SHMAE came to visit!!! We went to Morty's, the D.I., walked around campus so I could convince her to come to USU (it worked) (I think), and then went up the canyon. Houst was a great third wheel.

me: "ugh, I look so short."

houston: "yeah. I look so...tall." 

me: -_-

for the afternoon crowd

Ooooh, those trials of faith will really get you to stop and think, won't they? Not a day goes by when I don't feel like my faith is getting tested a little bit more than it was the day before. Heavenly Father must expect some great things from me, and that's why he's testing me. I can only hope I'm doing a good job. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it.

I was talking to a friend recently about application. Not application of foundation (different blog, move on, people, move on) (but if you want to apply your foundation correctly go with a Beauty Blender, ok bye).

We were talking about "gospel blogs" and the like and she told me she'd been looking for something with a little bit more substance. All of us probably read Pinterest quotes all the time and post them on our Instagram, we post a video and hashtag it with the latest #sharegoodness derivative, we gush on our Facebook page about how grateful we are, but I don't know if we talk enough about application.

David O. McKay articulated it best:

"Faith in God cannot of course be other than personal. It must be yours; it must be mine; and, to be effective, must spring from the mind and heart. What we need today is faith in the living Christ, which is more than a mere feeling, but a power that moves us to action—a faith that will put purpose into life and courage into the heart. We need the gospel of application." (source)

I know that for myself, the gospel makes a lot more sense to me when I use it. Well duh. Of course it does. If you never drove your car and just stared at it sitting in your driveway, you'd never learn how to drive or how to be around other drivers or understand traffic laws. You'd just have a potential way to get around. But of course it wouldn't do you any good. The gospel is the same way. The only way I can make the gospel work for me is when I use it every day. I'm still figuring out what that means for me, but everyone has personal things they're working on. If you want a great talk about that, I would check out Elder Lawrence's "What Lack I Yet?" That was a wonderful talk about application.

I'm not sure why this is on my mind right now, but here it is. It's not very elegant or complicated, but that's the gospel. It's simple. Next time you post on social media about #sharinggoodness, try asking yourself what you can do to apply what you've just shared. That's what I'm trying.

I just tried to get up from the couch and I couldn't

we're related.

That thing I wrote as the title= the absolute pinnacle of vegetating.

Yeah, it's a word. I just looked it up on thesaurus dot com because I wanted a different word for what I've been doing, to make it sound better. But you know what, the internet gave me "vegetating," and gently patted my hand as if to say, "There is no better word for that. Sorry, bud."

Today I finished my last two papers, and so I think I'm going to go for a run. YES. I'M GOING TO GO OUTSIDE. My skin might incinerate before I get past the front lawn, but whatever. At least then I won't have to think about starting my thesis soon. Yeah, summer break doesn't mean that much when you in grad school. I wish I could stop talking about grad school on this blog. Us too, you're all thinking. Don't worry, I know. I know.

OTHER ITEMS OF BIDNEZ:

Houston wants papaya for his birthday. That's it. He said "If I ask everyone for papaya, I know I'll get a lot of it. And then...I'll have papaya."
Me: "......."

PAPAYA. Kaitlyn Bothwell, if you're reading this, you're making the same face I made when he told me this. The same fruit we had to tell Mexicans we were allergic to so they'd stop giving it to us for breakfast. Oh well. I'll get him papaya (whoops, don't tell him) (Houston pretend you didn't read this), because he doesn't block me when I send him texts like this:

My parents have a puppy two puppies. Look, see. What else do you come here for? I really can't say.

this is Pip. a picture of her sister is forthcoming. 

There's this scene in Eddie the Eagle when Christopher Walken walks in (no, stop with the DAD jokes, gosh) (yes I am talking to myself right now) to a locker room and it's just such a weird scene, but anyway, it's supposed to be serious, because he picks up Hugh Jackman's skiing book with ol' Chris Walken's face on it, and Chris Walken says, "Nice book you got there. Need me to sign it?" Meanwhile everybody in the locker room is just staring at what must be the Most Inappropriately Timed Autograph Signing Of All Time (in their towels). I think it's supposed to be a really poignant scene but it's not, and everybody in the movie theater probably wanted to assassinate me and Houston because we couldn't stop laughing. Disclaimer: I almost assassinated myself just now trying to spell "assassinate."

That feeling of trying to keep yourself from laughing which instead just makes you laugh more is just like the feeling you get when you're done with your first year of grad school. You're like "K, I'm gonna relax for a bit now, maybe take a nap or go inhale or maybe--MAYBE I will venture to the faraway land of Smith's." But pretty soon you trying to do other things just makes you wonder if you should, in fact, have this much free time on your hands, so you make a huge mistake. You check your email. And what should you find there but an email from a student, long after their final papers were due.

"Hi, so last night when I turned in my paper my internet must've cut out RIGHT when I turned in the paper, so can I turn it in now?" (twelve hours later).

Me:

Why did I check my email? I should've pretended that inboxes didn't exist. Idjit!

You silly girl. Inboxes won't stop existing until you're laying horizontal in your coffin. But probably not even then. Sigh. Shoot, is it laying or lying or laiding or ladling goshDANGIT I have been writing and grading for nine straight months please send help.

Just recently (five minutes ago, just so you know how credible I am) I was browsing the Pinterest when I saw this Steve Jobs quote again, which I'm sure many well-meaning hipsters have nailed to their walls by now:

and then I was like:

C'mon Steve. You're not fooling anyone.

That concludes today's meaningless blog post. Thanks for reading and also I am sorry. 

reasons not to ______ (a comprehensive list)

REASONS NOT TO TELL YOUR STUDENTS THAT YOU'VE CRIED RECENTLY:

They'll ask you how you're doing with really concerned looks on their faces the next time they see you on campus.

I just started to hand them copies of this article:

HASHTAG GRAD SCHOOL

REASONS NOT TO PAY IN CASH AT THE GROCERY STORE EVER:

When the cashier is giving you back coins and you're holding your bag at the same time so you try to take the coins but they fall to the ground and the line is backing up and they hand you your receipt at the same time so suddenly there's this paper you've gotta grab onto and you burst into flames and descend into hell.

~*time to update my status*~

REASONS NOT TO OVERANALYZE HOW YOU TEXT:

You start purposely de-capitalizing words or using bad grammar so you don't sound as smart...

that's called pretentious dishevelment, my friends

REASONS NOT TO MAKE YOUR WEDDING INTO A HASHTAG:

Someday those hashtags will become unrealistic. More realistic hashtags:

#HeyDidYouGrabTheMilk

#NoNotCowsMilk

#YouKnowICantEatDairy

#WeHaveBeenMarriedForTenYears

#IAmLactoseIntolerantDangit

#DidYouAtLeastGetBananas

#NOBANANAS?!

#WeNeedToGoToTherapy

REASONS NOT TO STAND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STAIRS WHILE WALKING DOWN THEM:

Simple. Because other people (me) will try to go around you a million times because you're also the kind of person that walks slowly, and you keep swinging your hips in such a way that makes it impossible for me to pass you because you're RIGHT in the middle of the stairs goshdangit that guy had the most swingy hips and he wouldn't get out of the middle of the stairwell. sigh.

                   

REASONS NOT TO SHAVE IN APRIL:

Because we live in Utah.

AND WHILE I'M ON THE SUBJECT, REASONS NOT TO MAKE YOUR FB STATUS ABOUT THE WEATHER:

Talk about literally any other subject please, even your pyramid scheme parties (I can't believe I said that) because everyONE talks about the weather when it's just being the weather: unpredictable. Yes. Sometimes it snows in the spring because WE LIVE IN UTAH/IDAHO/PLACES WHERE IT REGULARLY SNOWS okay this is all I am never saying more about this again please.

Lizzie McGuire=the weather channel. Facebook be takin' its bidnez.

REASONS NOT TO WALK OUT THE DOOR THAT SOMEBODY IS ENTERING THROUGH

This happened to me the other day when I was walking to class. I opened the door to the building and as I was walking through it, somebody on the other side was like "whoops, just gonna slip in through here, heheh" so I just had to jump out of the way before we grazed each other.

REASONS NOT TO USE YOUR BLOG FOR COMPLAINING ABOUT PETTY THINGS:

There are none.

That's lit'rally what blogs were invented for. And:

On that note, remind me to never do this again.

I've got 99 problems but a Houston ain't one

• His love for Tandoori Oven is unmatched. One week he went three times (I counted). 
• He has trouble getting off couches "cuz they're so comfy." Like literally he can't get up. I usually give him a push, but sometimes I just watch him struggle. 
• He points with three fingers instead of one.
• He taught me that the word "caucus" is also a verb. this is how the conversation went.
• him: are you caucusing on tuesday?
• me: you mean voting?
• him: no caucus is a verb.
• me: no it's not.
• him: you know, to caucus, caucaulogy (that is NOT a word), the study of caucusing? it's first grade, McKenzie.
• me: -_- 
• If there's a weird old man in a movie we're watching he says "I aspire to be that man." there's weird old men in practically every movie we watch. I'm not joking.
• He consumes more peach lemonade and/or Sobe water than there are Lakes in Michigan (probably).
• If you don't laugh at his jokes right away he emits one small, tiny chuckle like three seconds later. Kinda like when you want more likes on an old Facebook post, so you comment on it and then it shows up on your friend's feeds and they like it. I call it the "last chance laugh." 
• The first time he gave me a gift (it was his favorite book), I responded by saying "You know I've already read this, right?" Smooth. 
• If he's at the end of a podcast (literally just the closing music) but you call him, he'll ignore the call just so he can listen to the closing music.
• He gets push notifications on his phone for the NBA and CNN. I get push notifications for ASOS and Pinterest. Oh, how the turntables.
• He's so ticklish you just have to point your finger in his general direction and he'll flinch.
• *coming to a realization about fashion* "Wait, your shoes do matter." 
• He knows the quickest and surest way to get me to roll my eyes all the way back into my skull is to start a sentence with "Well, I'm from Ogden, so....."
• After I basically did a somersault on the sidewalk to avoid getting dive-bombed by a bird, he said "You and I both know I'm the sane one." 
• The other night we were driving back from Nibley and he swerved to avoid crushing a cup in the road. A PLASTIC CUP.
• He drove me all the way to Bear Lake on a school night because I'd never been and I wanted to look at the stars. They didn't disappoint. 
• He leaves food on my porch all the time.