Good at picking toilet paper, not at being a good sport

The other day, Sam complemented me on the toilet paper I had purchased. This seriously meant a lot. I know it sounds stupid, but I felt so good that he had recognized my amazing gift at toilet paper discernment. I had stood in that bathroom aisle for a good three minutes trying to decide which toilet paper was the best deal without being sand paper.

Because seriously, some really cheap toilet paper can give you paper cuts. This happened to someone I knew.

This toilet paper had puppies on the package, so I knew it had to be good.

In other news:

Settlers of Catan is a great board game. It's complicated and takes about as long to set up as it does to actually play. But it's fun, usually. If you've never played it...basically you try to build this little civilization by collecting resources to build stuff. The other night we were playing and I was losing. I was losing bad. It was like Sam was the United States and I was a little African third world country. It was terrible because I had no chance to win. I had made some stupid mistakes in the beginning of the game, and especially when you're playing with two people, it's hard to recover from that.

And I started crying. Seriously. I was in tears over a board game. Sam was pretty calm, even though he was thinking: "This is a ridiculous reason to cry." Because it totally is. But he didn't say anything rude, he just suggested we go to sleep. That was a good idea. I don't know how he was so patient, but he was. Seriously, it's super stupid to cry over a board game.

In my defense: I was tired, and I always lose at Settlers. And my birth control makes me super moody (I blame about everything on my birth control. It's great.)

But it was stupid.

Anyway, Sam still loves me and so does Jesus.

-Megan

p.s. I did win Settlers yesterday! First time EVER! 

p.p.s. Did you know that Sam and I met playing Settlers? Yes. 

We're finally getting married!

It's like Christmas Eve on steroids.

Tomorrow I am sealed to the man I love so dearly!

Just start watching at 1:15. That's what I've been singing in my head recently.

-Meg

12:59 a.m.

I know it's super late, but that is what I am famous for: late night posts.
Today I practiced one of my new goals. I try to be involved in some way at least once in every class, every day. I just make it happen.

I'll answer a question (or try, even if I'm not sure I'm right.) I read aloud in Spanish. I ask a question. Just something.

This is a secret I wish I had learned earlier! It keeps me awake and I think it will make my professors like me! My classes have suddenly become meaningful because I have invested myself in them.

One of my over-arching, almost-a-motto tag-line is to be fearless. (Yes, like T. Swift.)  If I'm afraid, I just stop being afraid. I shut up that fear inside of me and force myself to embrace whatever comes.

I'm tired and I have no energy, but courage grants me strength, even when I'm just pretending I'm brave. (Yes, like "Just Whistle a Happy Tune" from The King and I. ) I do need to figure out a way to sleep more, though. Maybe closing this post and actually doing my homework would be a good start.

Now that I've made a few embarrassing music references, I will cease prattling on. There is work to be done. Good night, all.

-Meg

This is Megan on breakup

Oh, and here comes Meg's hidden anger. I just want to punch a cactus or something. I couldn't tell you why, but I just do. Everything is frustrating to me at this moment.

I know that I am so impatient. I want my cruise to happen now. I want to get a letter now. I want school to be over now. I want Elder Hill to be home now.

Now

Now

Now

(wow, that's a weird word when you say it a lot.)

Speaking of Elder Hill, I found this:

So I bought this:

Old Spice Fiji = gold. Now my room smells like guy. Wonderful, considering my newfound, boring single status.

I don't know if Elder Hill even remembers me anymore, but he does send me letters... like one every month or so. Not good for my impatient demeanor, but better than nothing.

I think my frustration in myself will subside with time, and accomplishing all the homework I have to do during Spring Break. Did I mention I am on Spring Break? Because I am.

-Meg

12:13 a.m.

We totally won the rivalry game. "Totally" probably isn't the right adverb, but basically, I'm so stoked we came out with some sort of victory. I know it was a bit undeserved, but I'm going to take it.

OK, now time for a late night post from this Scribe--

Dear Blog:

I always come to you in these late nights, looking for some sort of solace. But I know that if I just do my homework and study, I'll be much more at peace.

It isn't that I'm unhappy. Quite the opposite.

I'm crazy and life is moving at lightening speeds, but yet I don't feel like everyone else's is speeding up. It's just mine and I'm leaving things behind.

Oh my gosh I have this phonology assignment that I'm FINALLY doing. It's due in 9 hours. Exactly.

I just have to get out my feelings though, even if I'm not sure what they are. I am happy, and I'm upset that I'm not more sad about things that ought to bring me grief. I'm stressed, but not about things that ought to make me stressed, and things I should be freaking out over are suddenly so insignificant...

You know, for now I'm just going to blame it on my period.

That was easy.

Good night! Happy Phonology everyone!

-ME

So this is...

Hello world.

Here's the low-down.

I am dating this fantastic gentleman. And when I say fantastic, I mean FANTASTIC.

He is so good to me. He is so good for me. I spend less time moping about how much my life stinks -- because it doesn't--and more time just living and being content with life and love.

Every day he reminds me that I am beautiful, and he is a poet. He thinks it's cute how I'm a nerd. We are both nerdy wordy people, and we make a great team.

Yes world, I am in love.

OK, time to sleep...

The big game is tomorrow: UTAH vs. BYU. This is going to be wonderful.

Smiles, loves, and kisses from an extremely bubbly, giggly Meg.

-M

If Essays were Babies...

It was one of those days that didn't start at all.

I was still some sort of conscious at 3 a.m. working on my essays, the memories of the evening earlier fuzzy in my memory.

I finally got to my page limit, (barely) sent my essays off to my mother to be edited in a few hours. I crawled into bed and fell into a fitful rest.

I awoke seven hours later to my phone going off. My mom texts me and tells me she's ready to go over my essays with me. They are due today at one.

I stumble upstairs to grab the house phone, because something's wrong with my cell phone's speaker, and whenever I talk in it it sounds really muffled to the person on the other end. Besides, I don't get reception in the basement.

But the power's out.

I stumble back down stairs, put on a bra and some jeans, shove all my school paraphernalia in my back pack. My laptop's battery is almost spent and can't go more than 20 minutes without being plugged in, and besides, I need the internet.

I grab a protein bar and capri-sun and dash over to the library. Even though I try to find a secluded spot (that's near a plug), I'm not totally out of earshot of the other library patrons. I call my mom and she offers suggestions, but whenever I try to respond, she can't hear me. I try yelling as much as I can, but she keeps going, and there a times when I need clarification, or I just need her to slow down so I have chances to fix errors.

It's not working. She can't hear me and I don't dare raise my voice in the library. I'm really tired and when I'm tired I get really emotional and so I start crying. Like full out crying in the library. I hardly care that I look uber pathetic: absolutely no make-up, a disgusting bun, glasses, a t-shirt. And I'm bawling.

I hang up and rush outside. I can yell out there, but I look around for one of those out door plug things and I can't find one. (I swear they're everywhere until you need one!)

Out of necessity I collect myself and call my mom. I can yell and not disrupt people, but my battery has limited juice and the sun is so bright. I try adjusting the brightness, but nothing works. My screen is just too shimmery. I move to the shade. No luck. I put my laptop on the bench and kneel down and lower the screen. I look stupid, but it works for a few minutes.

All the while my mom is telling me stuff I need to fix and stuff she thinks I can add to more safely manage my page-limit. I'm trying to focus and stay calm, but I see the green battery icon rapidly slimming down.

So I hang up again (it sounds rude, but she can barely hear me anyway). I waddle over to the Union as the tower clock strikes 11, only to find that my ordinary floor is undergoing some renovation, of course. I wander around frantically and finally spot a table near a plug! It's right by the men's bathroom, but sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven.

I resume my conversation with my mother, and after working for another hour, it's complete! Both of them! You know, writing an essay is kind of like having kids, and I just gave birth two twins. What labor!

I look back and wonder what I could have done better-- the copy editor in my nags that it didn't check enough. I should have read through just one more time. But I can't look back. I can't stop. I'm not out of the woods.

I eat Chinese food to lighten my mood. I'm exhausted, so I catch a shuttle because I'm lazy, even though it's actually shorter to walk... but the driver must be asleep because we don't take off for what feels like forever and so I decide to walk anyway.

The moment I step off the bus it takes off. Wonderful.

At work I'm told it's my last day. I'm happy. I'm sad. I'm confused about how I feel about people there.

This whole day I've had a hope inside me that a letter will be waiting for me-- a triumphant reward for the crazy past few days.

No letter.

But scrabble with one of my best friends! And a party with my beloved family!

(The real party was last night-- my grandparent's 50th anniversary celebration. More on that to come.)

I still have a final to take. One last one.

And then I'm off to the Shakespearean Festival! Rapture in my soul!

Here, there, and everywhere

{edit} Internet is Working, so here are some pictures!

Behold the Sego Lily. The State of Utah's flower. They are beautiful, and edible, but I've never tried them. Legend is that the pioneers ate them to survive on the prairie.

My mom being so brave! Her horse, Society, stepped on her toe. She's soaking it in cool stream water to keep the swelling down.

Me wincing after getting stinging nettle during a photo shoot of some flowers. I always get into trouble when I go into the wild brush to take pictures of rare foliage.
My daddy looking so swell in his ostrich cowboy boots and cowboy hat.

My beautiful sisters! We made a music video, that will be uploaded shortly.

Me, Megan Many-Faces. We relearned the meaning of that nickname this trip. ;)

The deer that came up right by the deck!

Cowgirl sisters!

Ah, the view is beautiful! I love riding horses.

Okay, now the blog post:

I just keep wondering if I'm ever going to be sorted out quite right.

I'm here,

and there,

and everywhere.

I wanted to post some lovely pictures of my vacation but alas, my laptop isn't getting wi-fi today. It's like Peter Pan, lost its shadow. After 4 days of no internet, I'm DYING to get on! I'm such a tech nerd, and I'm so addicted. Right now I'm on my grandma's computer, which somehow is blessed with internet connection.

I left my make-up and brush and scriptures up at the cabin. Luckily my family is bringing them down for me. I'll see them on Saturday, we're all running the 24th of July 10k.

Everything is crazy, and I can barely keep up with everything. Looks like I'm not going to be failing my English class after all, though. I have a lot of work to redeem myself though.

I love the cabin. It is so romantic. I want to take the love of my life up there someday, and we'll ride horses here and there and everywhere, all around the valley. Now that I'm back in SLC, I'm bitter about all things love and romance; I'm back to normal! I just don't know what I want, actually.

Okay, now I'm going to go make myself some avocado toast.

-Megan

Too Much Thinking

It's only 8:20 p.m. and it feels like a late-night post.

Already I've run 10 miles this week and I'm exhausted. My head hurts and I feel achy, but that's okay. I have been by myself all day and that is nice. The Importance of Being Earnest. Frankenstein. Light in the Piazza.

A long nap.

Ramen Noodles with an egg.

Chocolate cake.

I have new running shoes, and I really need a letter right now. Saturday I'll get one, I'm pretty sure. I always get nervous when I know one is on the way. I never know exactly what he's going to say. I know he'll probably talk about how much he loves God and how much his testimony has grown-- just like every missionary does whether he means to or not. Then he'll tell me about Fijian, and then he'll sign his name. The last two letters have been that way. But it's a letter all the same.

There are a thousand poems in my head, and not one will fall enough for me to catch it and make it beautiful.

Today is a day when I miss Elder Hill so much. When I was in Provo we drove past the MTC, but I had to tell myself that he wasn't there, that he was already in Fiji, because knowing he was right there but that I cannot see him is too much for me, and I'm trying not to be too attached and I'm trying not to talk about him so much. If I don't think about him, then it won't hurt so much, but then what about when he comes home? What will that be like? I'm so worried about something that will happen in such a long time, and here I go rambling about things that don't matter and that I cannot do anything about!

Too much thinking is not advisable. It is not good for one's health. Sorry about that rant. I really need to stop.

-Megan

Dear Megan,

So tonight is not a good night to write poetry. Oh dear heavens Megan, don't write poetry. You're doing so well at not thinking. Don't think now. I know you must write your essay, and that separating technical and creative writing is difficult. Try, though. Please try.

Turn off those emotions, just like he accused you of a few years ago, when you were fighting. Just like a faucet. You never did, but now you can.

Thanks.

-Me