Done!

Well, I'm done with college! I officially finished my last final at about 3:15, 45 minutes after starting it. I kinda lost steam at the end of this semester, along with any will to study. But I'm done, so it doesn't matter!

I wrote a really long and kind of depressing post the other night about graduating. I'll consider posting it. I hate complain-y blog posts, which is why I didn't post it after I wrote it, but I also like to be honest, which it very much is. Again...I'll think about it.

I don't really have anything to write about besides the fact that I finished college today. It's a big milestone! Now I need to think of something to do to celebrate slash some awesome thing to buy for myself now that I will lose 2 of my jobs at the end of December (they're on-campus jobs and so I won't be able to work at them once I'm not a student anymore) and will make substantially less than I am now. But I'm graduating so that's my reason for deserving something awesome. Any ideas? Trips to exotic places won't really be an option, although that would be cool. Maybe I'll buy some puffed Cheetos. That's a pretty good reward, right?

Anyway if you have any ideas you should comment on here and I will take them into consideration.

Yay for me!

Secret #27

I hate it when people spell the word "Yeah" as "Yea" or "Yah." They just look wrong to me.

Secret #26

When business or signs in general have "est. (year)" I always think the est means estimated. I don't think I figured out what it was until I was in college.

It always bothered me that some business didn't even know when it had started, and that they had to estimate it...

I'm alive!

Yes, it's true. I'm not actually dead. Just incredibly busy.

You may think that with only taking 7 credits this semester, one of which is a dance class and two of which are working in a lab, I wouldn't actually be that busy. If you do, you're wrong.

You see, along with my 7 credits, I also have 3 jobs and am preparing to apply for grad school. My days usually go something like this:

Go to school
Go to my TA job
Go to lab
Go to receptionist job
Go back to TA job
Go home and do TA stuff and homework
Go to sleep
Lather, rinse, repeat.

It's been crazy. Along with that, last week I was preparing to take the GRE, and starting next week, I'll be preparing to take the Biology Subject GRE test in November, which will be much harder than the normal GRE was.

So, needless to say, I don't have a lot of time for blogging (or anything, for that matter). In fact, I'm currently avoiding studying for the test that I have to take tomorrow morning (I don't have any other time that I can take it) by downloading songs and writing this post.

Hopefully I make it through this semester and that I get into grad school. Either way, you'll probably hear from me more in about 3 months. :)

Don't player hate on me...

Ok, is one of you messing with me? She posted again!

"Im looking for a pool so my kids can enjoy for the summer i have 5 kids!!
If you have a pool that is not ripped and that is in good conditions! please sell it to me!! it has to be $20 or less! because i can waste that much money! Please give me a call if you have a pool that you can sell to me please give me a call so i can go take a look at it!
Thanks please contact me if you can sell one to me!! for a cheap price!!!
It can be any size i just want a pool for my children to enjoy!!"

Double exclamation points now. And if possible, even worse grammar.

I don't not see the connection here. Fess up, whoever you are! (yes, I used one. On purpose.)

(link to actual post)

Remember?

Remember that post I wrote a few days ago about how the exclamation point is WAAAAAAAAAAAY overused and how it's ruining the way people write and read?

Here's evidence that I found on Craigslist today:

"I need a pool for my kids i have 5 kids that really want a pool for the summer for the hot days they really want a swimming pool! but saddly i cant afford buying a brand new swimming pool!
If you have a swimming pool that you could sell to us for a very cheap price please email me!
Or if you have any kind of pool! that you could sell to us! because my children really want a pool! for the summer if you could help us that would be nice!
Thanks for looking!
please email me if you can sell us one or give to us!
Thanks!"

Find it here if you don't believe me. I just copied and pasted it.

This whole thing really makes me want to vomit on myself. It's not only the bad grammar and incomplete sentences that make it gag-inducing, but to throw an exclamation point at the end of every sentence and even in the middle of some...are you trying to kill me?

Couldn't Be Happier

Sometimes I forget the title of my blog (see above). To be honest, sometimes it's not always the truth.

I learned a lesson this week. I've been without a job for about 2 months now I think. Well, this is kind of a lie. I do in fact have a job, but I only work about 5-8 hours a week there. And I really don't enjoy the work that I do, which makes it even more difficult to go in and log hours.

Kagan has a job (or 2) but it's still been really stressful on me (to say the least) not having a job and not really having an income. Not only has it been stressful, but also very frustrating, because I just don't know where to look for one anymore. To top it off, I'm tired of having jobs that I hate, so I've been kind of selective with what I want to do. I also would rather not get another job on campus, because I'll lose it in December when I graduate and be right back where I am now.

I've got a lot going against me, to say the least.

A few nights ago, I had I think the worst breakdown I've ever had. I didn't know what to do. Every option Kagan gave me, I had some kind of excuse for of why I couldn't do it (campus job: be unemployed again in December. Find a job on craigslist: that's what I've been trying to do for the last 2 months and I haven't even gotten one call about any of them. Try out substitute teaching: school is out for the summer. The list goes on and on). It felt (and still feels) completely hopeless. I still have absolutely no idea what to do.

However, after the breakdown, Heavenly Father decided he wanted me to know what's going on. No, that's an overstatement. Heavenly Father decided he was sick of hearing me complain. So he told me (multiple times, actually) to learn to be happy about this. Learn to be happy with the 5 hour a week job that I have. Learn to be happy sitting in my house mostly all day, every day, alone. Learn to be happy feeling like I'm not contributing anything.

I've set some goals, made a conscious effort, and I'm going into a new week. As Miss Stacey/Anne says, "Tomorrow is fresh, with no mistakes in it...yet." Wish me luck as I learn a lesson which will take me to a place that I probably hadn't anticipated.

Also I get to go home next weekend, and stay for nearly a week! I'm so excited! :)

The Exclamation Point

It's a tricky thing. Well...to some people.

I've always been very conservative in my exclamation point usage. Why? Because the exclamation point should really only be used when you would actually exclaim something.

Read this article, and you'll understand how I feel about the exclamation point. He says it way better than I could, plus he's already said it, so why should I say it again? Read it. Appreciate it.

Have you read it? Please read it before you continue. It'll make much more sense if you do.

Yes, it is ruining the world. People use it far too often. Whenever I read it, the upward inflection happens in my head. It's extremely irritating.

I once considered dating a guy who lived a few cities away. As a result, we spent a fair amount of time texting. However, I decided I didn't want to date him after about a day of this texting business. Why, you may ask? It was solely because he ended every sentence in every one of his texts with an exclamation point (also he was slightly creepy, but maybe the exclamation points played a part in that). It was brain melting to me. Every added exclamation point was like a nail being driven deeper and deeper into my head, killing me more and more.

I guess the moral of the story is, please reduce the use of your exclamation points by only using them when necessary. Please!

Santa

I don't have a lot of memories from my very young childhood. However, many of the ones that I have are very vivid.

I remember when I was about 5 or 6, I desperately wanted one of those little kitchen play sets that all my friends had (one of these). Christmas was coming, and I was sure I would get it. I wanted it so bad. *SO* bad!

Also, I had been a good girl, so I figured Santa would reward me for my good deeds and get me my heart's true desire (the kitchen thing).

Christmas morning came, and I clearly remember the pajamas that my grandmother had made for me. They were light blue, and I remember feeling like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin in them (which will come to be ironic later on). I went out to the living room, filled with presents, and there it was: a huge box, just the right size to fit a kitchen play set. And it was for me! I knew right away that all my dreams were about to come true.

I saved it for the very last. I wanted it to be the grand finale to everything that I had received. It finally came to that moment. I was elated, overjoyed, as I ripped the paper from the box, ripped the tape off the box, and opened it to find:

A blanket.

That's right. A huge Aladdin themed blanket.

Needless to say, I was crushed.

I've since recovered from the emotional trauma caused by this event. Whenever I tell this story around my mom, she says to me, "Well you should have asked for it. We never even knew you wanted it!"

I was thinking about this last night, and I came to a realization. There were two men in my life who I had never met, but were very important to me: Santa, and Heavenly Father. I'd learned all my life about my Heavenly Father. He lived in heaven, so I couldn't see him. He loved me. He wanted me to be happy. He knew everything that I did, even if no one saw it. He knew everything about me: my hopes, my dreams, my desires, etc.

Then there was Santa. All you really get told about Santa is that you never get to see him, that he knows whether you're bad or good (even if no one saw it), and he knows what you want for Christmas (although somehow I missed the "you have to ask him" part).

So you can see, that as a child, I could have easily paralleled the two in my head. It wasn't necessary to ask Santa for a present, because he already knew!*

So next time you don't know what to get your kids for Christmas, maybe ask them to write a letter to Santa asking for what they want. They might not realize that that's necessary.

*I know, I know, the Lord knows what we want but we still have to ask him for it, but think of this from a 6 year-old's perspective. It makes a lot more sense that way.

The Lesbian Story

Look, I know this post is long, but it is SO worth it. I promise.

I've always found this particular experience of my life to be pretty funny, even when it was happening. I hope it changes your life forever, as it did mine.

Once upon a time, I used to go to girls camp with the Young Women's program at my church. Girls camp was always a joyous event, full of laughter and good memories and overall happiness. It happened to be my fifth year going, in which I was to be a YCL (Youth Camp Leader). It was my job to be over 5 or so girls in the 3rd year group. My job was to be their mentor of sorts, and to provide general friendship and a good example in my wise old age of 16. Two of my dear friends were in this group (a one Holly Hall and a Hailee Maus), so I deliberately chose them to be under my direction.

One of the requirements of being a YCL in this particular year was that the girls I was in charge of all slept in my tent. So, there was me, Holly, Hailee, and two other girls who I had never met. One was fairly pleasant, and the other...let's just say she didn't have the happiest disposition of the girls at camp. It was clear that she was at camp against her own free-will and volition, and was going to take her displeasure out on anyone who stood in the way of her being miserable (me being one of the main targets of this frustration, as I was supposed to make her go to activities, etc). For the purposes of this story, we shall call her DENver (yes, the capital letters do make a difference. It's DEN-ver).

I believe it was on our second night there, that another good friend of ours sneaked over from the 4th year camp to spend some quality time in our tent with us. The pleasant girl and DENver had (or so I thought) gone to sleep. At the very least, both of them had promptly put in headphones, laid down, and closed their eyes. Suffice it to say, I assumed them incapable of hearing our conversation. This was where my folly began.

There we were, the four of us, all trying to sleep on a queen-sized blow up mattress. I don't know how much you know about blow up mattresses, but when they claim that one of these is a "queen," it's really only about the size of a small full. So, as was necessary, we all laid on our sides, in what some would call a "spooning" position. We thought nothing of this, other than the fact that it was funny that we were spooning with one another on this tiny bed, and laughing all the while at the ridiculousness of it all. All of our fun was in complete innocence.

To make matters worse, we were all tired and, as a consequence, feeling rather silly. Caley (the sneaker-over) kept saying the word "spoon" in a very deep voice as she wrapped her arms around as many of us as she could and squeezed us together as hard as she could (which, if you know Caley, can be very hard indeed). Our foolishness continued, until Caley said to me, "Brooklyn, if we're not married by the time we're 40, will you be my lesbian friend?"

Let me pause to give you a brief interlude on my relationship with Caley. We were the best of friends, and comments like this were not uncommon between us. Mainly it was our way of saying that we would still be friends long into our lives, and probably that we would grow up being so silly that no man in his right mind would marry either of us, and we would end up being 2 old cat ladies living together.

Back to the story: I quickly responded with "Of course!" and the moment passed after some laughter from our friends. Soon enough, our discourse ended, and we all drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, as our morning activities ensued, DENver was her usual, grumpy self. She had another grumpy friend at camp, and they had banded together in their anger at being at camp against their will. DENver had asked to move into the tent with the other grumpy girl, which I assumed was because the tent was bigger (ours was rather small) and also just so they could mourn the loss that they wouldn't be able to make out with their boyfriends for an entire week while being held hostage at our horrible camp.

At breakfast, somehow the topic of our conversation in the tent the previous night came up. However, one of our leaders (basically just one of the adults over our camp) overheard, and asked us what in the world had gone on in our tent that night. We simply told her that Caley had sneaked over to our tent, and that much foolishness had ensued. However, it was at this point that I was made aware of the connection between our conversation the previous night and DENver asking to move to another tent.

Apparently, she had overheard the whole thing, and was now terrified of me because I was, clearly, a lesbian. Being 13 years old and having to share a tent with a 16 year-old lesbian can, I imagine, be rather terrifying. So much so, in fact, that you must remove yourself completely from the situation. I could understand why DENver had done this.

However, being a YCL, and therefore requiring myself to be an example to the younger girls I was over, I realized that I must rectify the situation and make it known to her (and I'm assuming all the girls in her new tent, who I was certain she had told) that I was not, in fact, a lesbian. I didn't want them avoiding me for the rest of the week like I was going to come after them in a lustful rage.

I thought I had timed my approach wisely. I was very wrong indeed.

When I walked into their tent to give my speech, most of them were changing their clothes and were, consequently, in their underwear. This did not help them to believe my story.

However, I did the best that I could to tell them that I had merely been joking around with the other girls in my tent, that we weren't lesbians, and that they didn't have to feel weird around us.

I don't think that it worked. They avoided me from there on out.

I didn't ever really care. I'd done my very best to tell them the truth, and I knew that their bad attitudes were probably the main inhibitor of my truth-telling. I was only fearful that they would tell all the other girls in our year, and then they would all avoid me.

This story ends well. DENver and her unhappy friend were both sent home from camp the next day for bad behavior. Their wish was granted, my reputation was saved, and camp in general was much happier from that moment on.

I will never forget, however, my brief period of being a supposed lesbian. Also, I never hesitate to share this story when on a camping trip, and in fact did so recently. I thought I was only sharing it with my tent mate, but apparently shared with every tent within the vicinity/hearing range of my tent.

All is well, and I have shared one of the happiest memories I have with you. I hope it brought you as much joy as it did for me to live it, as well as to write it.

Goodnight, all. And, if we're both not married by the time we're 40, will you be my lesbian friend?

So Close

I'm really excited for tomorrow. Not only because I'll be done with school (very shortly, classes start again on Wednesday), but because I have about 3 blog posts that I've been waiting to write when I have more time, which I will after tomorrow!

Be prepared.

School is hard

I'm having a really hard time focusing on the paper that I'm reading about the body weights of migrating and non-migrating eared grebes.

Sounds riveting, I know.

Finals week is hard. And I only have 1 real final (I have one test to take and one paper to write).

Just think, though...this is the second-to-last finals week that I'll have to go through in my undergraduate career (although it will probably be in my entire schooling career, as grad school is highly unlikely in my life).

Also, by the end of tomorrow, I will be done with my hellish birds class and then I will be forever tortured by my ability to identify 200 some-odd bird species just by sight. At least I won't be tested on it.

Ah....blast. This WON'T be the second-to-last finals week I will have. I forgot that I'm taking spring classes, which makes this my third-to-last finals week.

I was so close.

This post has no purpose.

School is almost over!!

P.S. I promise that once school is over for this semester that I will write real posts again. I have a good story coming up for you!!

Stewardship

I'm writing a paper for my husbandry class that is ridiculous and impossible to write. I'm supposed to write 5 pages on how what I've learned will help with my stewardship responsibility for God's animal creatures.

So far, I've missed 10 points in the entire class. If I didn't do the paper at all, I could still get a B in the class. However, it's a really easy class and I'll be disappointed in myself if I don't get an A.

If I get a 70 on this paper, I can still get a solid A in this class. I figured if I wrote 4 out of the 5 pages I could get a 70 or higher and be fine.

I'm at 4.15 pages and should be done.

Somehow, I can't bring myself to be so blatantly mediocre.

What's wrong with me?

Birds

It better rain harder tomorrow than it's ever rained in Provo, because I swear if I see a single bird, I'm going to kill it.

Birds are ruining my life.

P.S. Becky, be glad you didn't heed my pleadings and take this class with me. It may be the end of me.

Secret #25

I think that one of the best parts about being married is that you can say "I love you" as many times as you want and as often as you want, and you don't feel like a weirdo for doing it.

Not only that, but they have to say it back! :)

Secret #24

The thing I want more than anything in the world right now is....


A dog.


So bad. But we can't get one (for a lot of reasons, including that our apartment contract won't let us and that we're never home). I'm just biding my time...and I'll get me a little Daschund. And then Kagan will want to get his husky, and then the dogs just won't stop.


I have no problems with that.

Secret #23

I really hope I don't have fat kids.

I don't know why, but chubby babies aren't as cute to me as less chubby babies.

Personal opinion. With my luck though (a husband who was born at 11 pounds), my kids will be little fat factories. I will love them anyway, though.

Remember...

I remember the day when I realized what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I haven't regretted that decision once since that day.

Lucky for you, I blogged about that decision, and you can read about it here.

It's strange, the things that influence us. All it took for me was a picture. A few measly pictures of a baby giraffe that had to be hand-fed. I remember looking at those pictures and wishing more than anything that I could have been that man, being able to interact with that animal in such an intimate way.

The other day Kagan and I were talking (actually we've had this conversation a few times, but this was the time I really realized how I felt about it), and we were discussing the preferences of children. For example, my nephew, Max, *loves* trains, tractors, trucks--just about anything with a motor. Kagan asked me why I think it is that he loves those things. I thought about it, and I couldn't really tell. Perhaps it was because my sister and her husband, knowing that he was a boy, figured that he would probably like those things, and introduced him to them early in life. However, here's another example that kind of debunks that theory: Kagan's brother has two daughters. One is 4 and the other is 2. The 4 year-old loves princesses, the color pink, mostly anything girly. Also dogs and horses (judging by the fact that 85% of the time, she's pretending to be one of the two of those). The 2 year-old, however, loves barns and babies (like baby dolls). Somewhat similar to the older child, but in some ways, very different. What is it that makes the younger child not like the same things as her sister? Why did she choose barns? If we had followed my previous theory, then you could assume that she would have been influenced greatly by the presence of princesses and girly things brought into her life by her older sister. Yet she seems to show no interest in them (granted, she's 2, and she may learn to like them when she's older, but still).

And it was then that I realized: why is it that I love animals? Why is it that I've loved animals since the first time I ever saw one? I didn't live on a farm until I was about 11, and the extent of my pets growing up before that was limited to dogs, hamsters, fish, and a few reptiles that either lived in the backyard or were temporarily captured from the backyard. But I can clearly remember starting school, and only wanting to read the books about animals, getting so excited about learning about animals (I even remember that we learned about animal diversity in the 6th grade), etc. It's because we each are blessed to have a unique spirit (I guess technically our unique spirits are blessed with a body, but that's beside the point), which is different from any other spirit that ever has or will be. Why is it that Kagan likes film so much? Is it because only ever watched TV as a child? Surely the answer is no; it's because he has certain talents and desires given to him by our Heavenly Father, and film is what fulfills those to the greatest extent.

And animals happen to be where that passion lies in me. I recently applied for an internship at Hogle Zoo for this summer, and I'm really hoping that I'll get it. Sadly, because Kagan works here, I can't really go anywhere else to do an internship at a zoo, unless I decide that I want to live X miles away from my husband for 4 months (not likely). So, keep your fingers crossed. I don't even really know what the odds are that I'll get it, so I'm kinda in the dark until I find out.

If you need more evidence of my love for animals, visit my "Happiness Blog" here. It started out of pictures (and quotes) that made me happy or made me laugh, and now it's almost completely pictures of animals (ok, and Harry Potter references, but I can't help that Harry Potter is the most amazing thing since...animals). I love it. :)

Browser

Dear Readers,

I'm posting today on a matter of grave importance. I beg you to give heed to my words. I speak from experience.

Blogger.com (and generally, Google) has recently come out with a new feature for your blogs where you can view all kinds of stats about your readers, who views your blog, what site they came from, where they're from, etc. While I was surprised by my 36 views from the Netherlands this week, I was more surprised by an extremely heinous statistic.

Nearly half of the people who view my blog do so using Internet Explorer.

World...this must stop. Internet Explorer can be equated to sadism, communism, and other things that are inherently undesirable and generally bad in nature.

I implore, nay, beg you to choose a different browser. It's not difficult. I know it seems like there are a lot of options, but I'm here to give you a glimpse into at least my favorite browsers.

Personally, I almost always use Firefox. It's fast, works well, hardly ever crashes, and I've never had a website that didn't work on it. The only time I don't use Firefox is when I'm using my iPad, where Safari is the only option for a browser. Another plus of Firefox-it updates for you, unlike IE that will leave you in the stone age and completely unaware that they've even changed anything.

Google Chrome is another popular browser. I don't have extensive experience with it (in fact, I have very little to none), but I do know that there are a lot of people who like it a lot. This is another option.

I suppose I won't be able to convince everyone to stop using IE. If you're going to use it, at least update it. I promise, it will make your life better, and easier (besides the fact that you're still using Internet Explorer). It's difficult for me to make hyperlinks while on my iPad, so I'll add links in here once I can get on a real computer. If you need help downloading browsers or updates, come back to this post a little later and there will be links that will help you.

I hope I've at least changed one person's mind. If so, that's enough for me. You won't be sorry you made the switch.

Choice

I like to think that I'm a pretty laid-back person, at least in general.

There are, however, certain topics that just get me all fired up. These include but are not limited to: visiting teaching in single's wards, PETA, Creationism, and abortion.

I know I don't usually post stuff like this, but it's been something that's been on my mind lately. But first, a little background as to why.

A couple weekends ago, I was at Planned Parenthood to get my birth control prescription. After having watched Juno and being at least slightly informed as to this kind of thing and what Planned Parenthood is, I wondered how many people come to the Planned Parenthood clinic in Provo/Orem, UT for an abortion (just FYI, the Provo/Orem clinic doesn't actually perform abortions, but can give abortion referrals), simply because of the area we're in and the...general discouragement of abortions (based at least somewhat on the majority of Mormonism here).

About me: I am EXTREMELY pro-life. Women do have a choice--use protection, or don't have sex. You know the risks that come with it. Take responsibility for your choices (I know there are certain exceptions, like rape. I'm talking generally. Don't bog me down with the exceptions--that's not the point).

Please don't get me started. This post is supposed to be rational, and not me getting angry. Anyway.

So when I was there, there were probably 2 other girls who were there, one about my age and another who was probably either just out of high school or just starting college. They didn't seem too stressed, so I guessed that they were probably there for the same reason as I was. During the last 5 minutes of my sit in the lobby, a young couple came in. When I say young, I mean that they were under 17, and definitely not out of high school. The boy walked determinedly, and the girl seemed rather lost, scared, and unsure about what was going to happen in that building. He led her to the desk and said, rather loudly (or at least loud enough that I could hear), "We're thinking about getting an abortion." And that was that. I watched them as they sat down together and he helped/made her fill out the information sheet.

I never found out what happened with this couple. I left as they were filling out the form. As I walked past them to the door to leave, the girl was staring at the wall, with a look that I could only determine as fear, mingled with confusion and trepidation. I got into my car, but I couldn't drive away. All I could think about was that boy. That young, hormone-driven boy (I know it sounds like I'm making a vast generalization; I'm not). I could tell by the small amount of observations that I had made that they were dating, or at least had been at some point. He'd gotten her pregnant. She didn't know how to tell him, but eventually she did. She was terrified, because she probably knew just what he was going to say. There was no way he was going to pay for the consequences of his actions and become a father at the age of 17. He was making her have an abortion. As far as he was concerned, she had no choice. And as far as she was concerned, there was no way she was going to stand up to him.

I don't know that there's really a point to this post. I'm sure some people will read this and disagree with my feelings toward abortion. That's fine. I understand that there are differences in opinion, and I respect the right of other people to have different opinions than I do.*

However, I will never be able to understand how people can justify killing another human being because they made a mistake. I've studied a lot about abortions because I feel so strongly about it. I will never understand how a doctor could possibly do that to someone. Fetuses may not look like full-grown babies (is there such a thing?), but they still look like a person (I guess not right at the beginning, but in most operative abortions, the fetus will be developed that much), and watching a tiny, helpless person suffocate to death and feeling no remorse in being the reason for that happening...I will never understand.

Again, I don't know that there's a purpose in this post other than to share my experience, how I felt about it, and hope that maybe it makes you think about how exactly *you* feel about it. I can tell you that there are some pretty informative YouTube videos about abortion (for both sides), if you're interested in learning more.

*If you read this and completely disagree with what I say, you can comment on the post and inform me of your opinion, but just know that I probably won't reply back. I'm not writing this to start a debate, but rather to share an experience and my feelings towards it.