I am happy, even if my stomach isn't.

Ugh.

I'm so sick of sandwiches. So I give in and pay for Chinese food.

Which is good until an hour after you've eaten it.

Ugh.

Turns out, half-way across the world my best friend is also sick to his stomach. But his illness is much worse than mine. He has thrown up several times, but luckily it was on a P-day, right? Poor Elder Hill.

Oh how I dislike Mondays. It's cliche but oh so true. The days and weeks are long. But I have strength to do this! I do, I do, I do!

I want to go to Fiji but I can't. I'm still going to be happy as happy can be.

Isn't this a cute poster? I want it.

-just little old (meg)

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!

I Know God Loves Me Everytime I Get A Left Turn Arrow (and other things that make me happy).

• I know God loves me every time I get a left turn arrow at a light. I'm not the greatest driver ever, and it is so reassuring to know you can just turn left without having to worry about who is coming in my direction for once, and I can just GO! I love it.

• I know God loves me when I get oatmeal for breakfast. I like oatmeal, especially the Quaker kind. I like to combine flavors, that is cool, and my favorite mixture is Raisins & Spice and Apples & Cinnamon. Then you sprinkle sugar on top. YUM! Oatmeal is so warm and sticky, it just makes me feel like I could live forever!

• I know God loves me when it is windy enough to fly kites. In my opinion, flying kites can be so enjoyable and thrilling. A piece of nylon fabric is suspended in midair fifty feet above because you and the wind worked together! It never gets old.

• I know God loves me when I find lip gloss in my old jeans. I don't know what it is, but I always feel bad for the clothing articles I don't wear as much. What if they feel left out? I think they get so lonely and dejected that they keep important items hostage. Like old pairs of pants that don't fit right- that is where I find all my lost lip gloss. If I was nicer to all my clothes and wore them all equally, (even if they made me look bad) at least I wouldn't have to loose my lip gloss as much. However, I feel so jovial when I discover a prodigal lip gloss in a pocket.

• I know God loves me when I hear falsetto. I'm not sure why, but I know God gave falsetto to men as a gift. Its true purpose: unknown. But whatever the function, I adore hearing men go up into their upper recesses and exploring their vocal atmosphere in dry, hooty, mock-female tones. It makes me laugh and wish I could do the same.

• I know God loves me when I pick up a good book. Like the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, or Twilight. I just can't stop. I love it when I just have to keep reading... while I eat, while I blow dry my hair, while I am riding in the car, etc. What is best is that I don't think about anything else - like ANYTHING else. And then I imagine myself in the plot and warning the main character of danger. I go crazy, and thus, I get really happy.

• I know God loves me when they serve cheep Chinese Food at lunch. Actually, I'm not sure it is Chinese, but it at least is oriental food. It is only $2 and well worth it. It is always the longest line, and my friend Wendy and I make sure we are at the end of it because then they give us the extra chicken as the line is winding up. The cafeteria ladies don't like extras. If you request no vegetables (because I'm not sure they're really vegetables) then they'll give you even more chicken. Not only that, but they provide egg rolls AND fortune cookies. At our lunch table we always add the phrase, "...in bed." To our fortunes, and it is quite interesting indeed. It makes me happy.

• I know God loves me when I find a very inky pen. I love writing with a very inky pen as you well know. Pens of that merit are so difficult to come across but when I encounter one, I can't help be be grateful.

• I know God loves me every time I lie down on precisely buzzed golf course grass. I live by a golf course, and let me tell you, stretching out on that stiff, fuzzy grass is so relaxing. The thick kind is good, but so is the really short kind. I could fall asleep on it. In fact, I think I have...

• I know God loves me every time I get to take an afternoon nap. You know those naps that are so light and fluffy? I love it when I'm conscious enough to feel like I'm asleep and I can relax. Even if they last only twenty minutes, a crash after school is a remedy for a better day. And speeking of naps, I'm going to take one right now.