Showered

Bridal shower = wonderful food, wonderful cupcakes and cake. Brittni arranged the desserts and they were mighty scrumptious. And pink.

Playing plant the kiss on the hunk.

Just a few naughty gifts.

Games (This one's kind of dirty. See if you can guess what it is... hahaha)

Wrapping paper dresses.

All-in-all, a bit crazy. But I'm alive. Now it's back to work!

-Megan

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

I might be a Flunker

[insert rant about my own stupidity.]

I deleted my twitter account today. On purpose, but no clue why. Just did.

I missed my exit on the freeway.

I'm failing my English class. I don't want to talk about it.

Can I start over?

-Me

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

New Look, Old Story

Holy Whoa has a new look!

I am not completely satisfied with it yet. I don't know if I just have to get used to it, or what. I always feel bad about changing it, as if my readers will show up and not recognize it and leave or something... but that's not really true.

Why is the blog called Holy Whoa? You might wonder. Wondering is good. But I'll tell you.

One day it just fell out of my mouth! And the phrase of excitement and wonder stuck! I have not been saying it recently, but I need to get back into the habit, because I love that phrase.

-Megan

p.s. Today was a good day, even though it had no right to be. I believe in these kinds of days.

Much Fun and Love

It's 1 a.m. I have a paper to finesse and a presentation to prepare. So what is the most logical thing to do? Simple: do a blog post.

I had arguably one of the best weekends of my life. Considering it was the weekend before the end of the semester, that's pretty phenomenal if you ask me.

Relief Society retreat was so much fun. I've always loved the sisters in our ward, but we really bonded Friday night. We swam through each other souls. Laughs, pillow fights, secrets, swimming, games... ya, not much sleep happening. We joked about picking up some "Mans" in Midway, but it really didn't happen. I mean, after all it was a girls' night!

So I came home and went to Mr. Hill's recital! He rocks. I'm going to miss him with mounds and mounds of muchness.

Then... {drum roll please!}

I headed home for LINDSEY'S PROM!

She is the prom queen. Yes. She is the prom queen. I'm going to say it again: "She is the prom queen! "Behold:

I will post more pictures later, because I took about 300 pictures. I'm going to select about 17 to post here. Why 17 you ask? Why such a random number? Well, on Sunday Lindsey turned 17 years of age. I love her! I was so happy that I could come home and be there on her special weekend. (Ya, she had way too much attention this weekend. Luckily she's so humble and gracious: any other girl would probably be super annoying after all is said and done.)

(I feel bad that I'm leaving my other sister out, but I'm going to devote a post or two to her in the future, because she is amazing too. It just so happens that Lindsey took over the weekend.)

School ends on Wednesday. Will I be able to make it? I know not, but I love you all. Happy Spring!

-just little old Me(g)

Maniac Facts

I don't know what it is about musicals, but I'm suffering from an addiction to them.

Who in their right mind pretends to be an obsessive teenager, wear fifty year old dresses that smell like mothballs, wear curlers every night, plaster on gallons of make up, sing in a nasally voice, abstain from milk, and spend 14 hour days at school on cheese-its and easy cheese?

Well, I did, along with forty other cast members.

I hope all of my readers got to see it, but I'll be posting some photographs from it on the blog. What an experience!

I'm just going to use people's stage names to address them instead of their WP Names.

Did you know...

Many of the cast donated their own props. For instance, the slippers and hat I wore in "How Lovely to Be a Woman," are my own. Conrad's purse in the last scene is my mom's and his scarf is Mrs. Cazier. Most schools have a prop and costume bank of stuff they've been able to build up over the years, but we don't because this is the first year our school is open.

All of my dresses are my grandma's formals from high school.

Albert named his rabbit after Rosie.

The counter and the bar are the same thing, just with different covering. Her name is Tiffany.

There is a 'phantom of the auditorium' that saved Rosie from the house. Actually, when the house was being flown down (way too fast) it almost hit her square on the head. Someone yelled a warning and grabbed her out of the way, but no one admitted to being the savior. It only nicked her in the head instead of killing her.

The window grid took longer to build than almost anyother set piece and took around fifty people to help keep it straight while we lifted it up.



We are so grateful to have a pit! Suprisingly, the whole time we were practicing with it off, no one fell in. However, just a week after the play was over, someone fell in during a concert for another junior high. What are the odds?