Yeah, Random

Wow. Talk about a LATE update.

So an assortment of crazy, possibly emotionally stressing things have happened upon my path since I last updated it, and the list REALLY is too long for me to explain in detail, but it involved my dad not working for over a month and a ton of stress about money, and me slowly descending into a downward spiral of paranoia, insecurity, and depression, and me hitting my limit and having a complete and utter emotional and mental breakdown where I swear to God you would've thought I was possessed, hysterical, seriously unstable, or all three. But it turned out to be better for me (even if I got grounded a long time for acting like a psychopath) because y'know, they say you shouldn't bottle up your feelings, and well, I do, and I guess that was me letting go of them. So I think I'm better now.

Just kidding. I haven't killed anyone.

But I think I've come close, a few times.

Anyway, now that I'm more or less emotionally stable, I'm going to work on updating this more often to keep track of my own life and laugh at it. Yay me! Oh, and also write some personal essays for later reflection. I think I should start PM'ing that one guy on that writer's site back, too...

School is relatively uneventful. I think my only real friends are Dorothy (even though I've bitched about her on this blog, sorry about Do-... I mean, Shaniqua <3) and MY GUY FRIEND I STILL HAVEN'T DECIDED ON A NAME FOR, OMG, WHAT SHOULD IT BE?!?!? Yeah. I mean, the entire band of people I hang out with are my friends for certain but I mean the tell all your worries and insecurities and dreams and junk and not have to worry about being laughed at. I'd tack on Rapunzel to that list but even though things have been smoothed over and I'm talking to her more (even though it was after a few scary emails I sent her), things feel different. She feels far away. It sucks.

But um, yeah, school. Considering I don't HAVE any classes with any of my friends, it doesn't really matter. I think people in my classes think I'm an antisocial freak, minus the choir kids. I'm going to try to get in Honor Choir next year... and not to sound arrogant but I'm pretty sure I'll get in, I have a pretty voice...

... and piano lessons. I want piano lessons.

ANYWAY, AS OF LATE, some guy in my 5th hour, and yes, I am too lazy to come up with a name for him, too, I will refer to him as "some guy" and "that guy" and anyone reading this can get over it-- keeps rubbing my shoulders randomly. He says, "I'm just being awkward with everything today." And sometimes when I scoff or give him a look he laughs "Sorry I'm messing with you." I've learned not expect much from guys in his "group" but it's still weird how out of the blue he keeps rubbing my arm and asking questions like, "So did you like the movie? :D" I don't even know how to respond to that.

This is the same 5th hour that is completely. Out. Of. Control. Some days it isn't so bad, but other days I swear to God I am sitting there at my desk wanting to kill myself, and it's all because of the noise. Everyone will be hollaring at the top of their lungs, while I'll be sitting there in my desk, looking bored, pissed off, or upset and again, probably wishing I could kill myself.

 Loud, mixed noises stresses me out like you wouldn't even believe. A rock concert? Totally cool with that. A bunch of teenaged boys screaming at the top of their lungs? Not so cool with that. I have to tune them out and focus on something other than the noise, even if it means blocking out the teacher. Who I think loves me. All English teachers love me. Last year, one used my assignment as an example in another class. The year before that she said that I would grow up to be an awesome author/reporter/something. And they always look at me randomly and smile which would be creepy if they weren't all women. This year she evens smiles and says hello to me as I pass in the hall, which leaves me whipping around stuttering out some sort of stupid reply. Fact: when people I'm not used to talking to me actually talk to me, I am made socially retarded. Example A: interactions with the "some guy" above. I say "um" a lot and even stutter. Stutter. It's kind of dumb. But maybe not as dumb as if I'm feeling so unbearably shy I can't face people, I run away Yup. Kind of sad.

Today, fall break starts. Yay. I don't have to go to school tomorrow or Friday. Which is nice, but uncomparable to Rapunzel, who gets two weeks off. I'm kind of blown away at that. I have no doubt who she's going to probably spend it with. Crap, emoness. Well, Dorothy is coming over on Friday to spend the nice which is awesome. She came over yesterday night and stayed for a long time. We sat out in 40 degree weather on the trampoline and just... talked. It felt awesome. Oh, and we jumped around on it like idiots for a bit. (:

I've been spending a lot of time on the Sims 2. Making and killing virtual people is fun. Even though I'm ungrounded, I haven't felt up to my online games. Mostly because they seem broken beyond repair but nngh... I feel bad for neglecting my friends on there but seriously I just don't... feel like it, as of late.

This blog post was all over the place. Oh well. I'll get on track when I don't have a bazillion stray details and I can focus on one subject.

I think maybe I'll post something about my dreams. My highly awesome dreams.

They're pretty freaking awesome.

Last Week

I had a whole week without seminary. I was considerably less dead. It was a nice feeling.

So, I'm not going to be in band. I'm stuck in Family and Consumer Science II. Which is fine. Seriously. Something totally changed my opinion on Home Ec. And it changed it for the better.

Let me ask you this, in how many classes do you get a sundae for doing good on a test? Does your Algebra teacher dish up ice cream with a wide variety of sprinkles and syrups when you finally figure out linear equations? Does your English teacher bring on the sugary milky awesome whenever you ace that vocabulary test?

NO. I DIDN'T FREAKING THINK SO.

But that's okay! It's okay that sundaes are not awarded in Algebra or English, even when certain individuals so obviously deserve them. For once, I'll be lucky if I pass Algebra PERIOD and a sympathetic stare is the most of a reward I get. For twice (huh?), I'm already such a badass in English I don't need any sugary awesome to tell me so. I just know.

But in Family and Consumer science, you know what I got for passing the test?

Yes. A BIG. FREAKING. AWESOME. SUNDAE.



Made my day. No, it made my week. There is nothing better than eating a sundae at 9AM.

Everything else that happened during the week was pretty mediocre. Dorothy got jealous because I sat with who I call my "Happy Friends" in the library and threw a guilt trip in my face. I got a 64 on an algebra assignment (sob). I wrote haikus in OK History. The ghetto rapper guy with cool tattoos and piercings actually asked me to help him with his work (I just basically told him the answers, I'm not a tutor, I don't teach study skills jeez) and in consequence some other guy was like "OMG! HELP ME TOO?!?! :D" And I was like "Um. No." Not because I am picky 'bout who I help or anything, but the teacher was basically like "YEAH WHY DON'T YOU HELP HIM?!!?! :D" and I was like "OKAY, SINCE I'M SO VERY OBLIGATED TO, WHY NOT." Plus, the guy gave up his desk for me so I could sit in the very overcrowded room. And then he rapped. Which was pretty awesome. The other guy annoyed me INTO THE NEXT DAY to help me with his work. EXCUSE ME, I AM A NERD BUT IT'S NOT LIKE I ENJOY DOING OTHER PEOPLE'S HOMEWORK. Just sayin'.

I lost my Hello! Kitty pencil case which had my favorite pen in it and that seriously made me depressed. I seriously almost cried in 7th hour, LOL. I LIKE MY HELLO KITTY. AND MY PENS. But mom said she'd get me another one but I don't know if she will after she shells out 20 bucks so I can join FCCLA... Hmm. Oh. And I realized I had 17 bucks. And I realized I need to start working on my guitar playing skills now and that I also want to take piano lessons. I'M SO MUSICAL, AREN'T I? A SOCIALLY AWKWARD DOODLING MUSIC PERSON.

I have twenty minutes until I need to sleep. So I'm going to stop here and eat some strawberries. I will enjoy them.

Don't Know What I Want to Do

I have only attended two full days of high school and I am already considering alternatives.

Let me just say, it sucks when you don't get classes with friends. I've never had amazing luck with that, but it still really, really sucks. It wouldn't suck as bad if it was a class full of strangers, oh no. It's a class full of people who you know but who don't really care for your existence, and frankly you don't care for theirs either. So you sit at the edge of the row in front of this pseudo rapper kid who actually has tattoos and a SON and you wonder what he's doing here anyway.

You know that feeling?

It's awkward.

I only see my handful of friends during lunch period, and most of them steal my food anyway. I get to talk to my guy-friend (I'll think of a name for him later) on the short bus ride to the elementary, though. Which rocks. I don't really hang out with my brother all that much because he likes to associate himself with stoners and potential criminals and I do not care to be around them all that much if I can help it. So it really sucks.

My mom said I could do online schooling if this year didn't go that well... but do I seriously want to do that? I mean, I spend quite a bit of time on the computer in my free time, so after my online lessons my eyes will look like

And that's not very attractive. And I'd have to do it at the same time my seminary teacher was there for her kid, and I don't like that woman. Also, I might get into the habit of not bothering to dress up. And I like dressing up and people seeing me all dressed up in what awesome clothes I have. Which brings up another point, what social life I have will dwindle and dwindle until it is nonexistent. And that would suck a whole lot.

I want to go to the school Rapunzel is going to, which is at the community college and is all awesome and classes start at 9:20 PM. It's a twenty minute drive, though. And there are literally only accepting 20 kids in each grade, though apparently a lot of people drop out. But once again, that limits my chances of not being socially retarded, even though it's pretty bad now with no friends in my classes and what not.

And I'm not racist or anything, but there are like 10 white people there. And I'm not shallow or anything, but you know... I need to get a boyfriend at one point or another and I prefer white guys...

And it's sorta in the capital of the state, and a large part of the capital is "in dah hood, yo."

This is a hilarious yet lame mental image for me considering Rapunzel is a fairy-like, semi-goth girl with dark eyeliner and frills and straight As and super nice but has a dark side WHICH IS EVIL and has very very very long hair. Yeah.

So it's like, an exclusive place right by the ghetto. Even though I hear there's some pretty dumb people in there. But they have a gift shop. A gift shop. THAT. IS JUST. AWESOME.

Dunno if I'd be able to get used to going to only four classes a day and getting home later, though. It still sounds pretty awesome.

I just don't know if I am going to live through this year, though. I just don't know.

In any case, it's the weekend, and I am exhausted. God knows how I'm going to live through a full week of school with classwork and everything. I think I just might die.

Again.

High School Sucks

Today was my first day of high school. Some of my random friends who read this know this. I am a freshman and let me tell you, there is nothing magical or romantic about it.

It. Sucks. Hard. Core.

Especially when you have to wake up at 5:30 AM just to go study stupid church stuff.

Sorry, God! Don't smite me for that! I love you and all, but I don't love losing my sleep for you!

I also don't love freakishly happy teachers in the morning but I'll gripe about that another time.

Basically, my facial expressions of the day went something like this:

Let's do some explaining. Six AM was when I started seminary. Didnt even brush my hair. 8AM was when I started school. Not that thrilled. 10AM is my demon-hungry-about-to-die-faise. omg i was so starving. I WAS SO STARVING GUYS. I COULD HAVE SWALLOWED SOULS.

The only reason why 12PM is a semi-happy face is because it was lunch time and the food was delicious. It wasn't awesome because while I was with all my friends, Dorothy got really quiet whenever my other-awesome friends were around. So I felt bad talking to them. So I just sat there awkwardly in silence with her for a while.

Then after lunch, during English, I realized I was once again in a cram-packed classroom full of kids who don't like me, don't care for my existance, and a guy who I used to like. So around 2PM I got really depressed for no apparent reason and by the time the bell rang I was about ready to die. It didn't help that the bus I got on was filled with a bunch of rowdy idiots which reminded me I need to get new earbuds, and once we got to the elemantary school (I walk home from there) we had to wait for all of the other buses to get there before anyone could get off. And they got stuck in traffic for about 15-30 minutes. Where I sat in miserable silence while my two friends from last year who bonded insanely talked in the seat in front of me, while my brother and his friend from last year talked in the seat behind me. I didn't get home until 4PM.

I spent my day running around trying to fix my funky schedule (which had me put in two of the same English classes, w-t-f) and getting into prep band which I am having doubts about now. I found out that the guy who I used to like still likes me, but I no longer have feelings with him simply because he waited too long. I have to walk at least half a mile to get home with my brother unless I got a ride with Sarah. I seem to be breaking all of the promises I made myself within the first day of the year and I realize I am going to be nothing more than a weird introvert who has strange colored socks but isn't special enough to really stand out from every one else.

I got home at 4PM, the same time my dad got home. My little brother was already home, slamming his keys on the piano and already had friends over. Within minutes both of my brothers and his friends were arguing over the X-BOX.

I dropped my bag on the floor. I went into my room. I plopped on my bed and died.

... until my mom decided to revive me for dinner, but I still feel dead. And hungry.

Scratched by a Cat

A few weeks ago I spent the night at Rapunzel's house. I am never particularly thrilled about going home after spending the weekend there, and usually drag my feet entering my mom's car. This time was different, however.

You see, I have this chronic disorder in which I go batshit insane whenever I hear the word "surprise."



My mom either plotted a very smart, very strategic plan to get me out of Rapunzel's house quicker than a tortoise with polio or doomed the world with the supersonic waves that I produce from screaming very, very loudly.

Because I also have an unhealthy obsession with cute and fluffy mammals.

KIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!

We drove home in the car and got pizza. I held him in my lap in his little basket. I gave him a little piece of my cheese stick from Little Caeser's. Mom said this probably wasn't a good idea. I continued to coddle the kitten.

He seemed like the perfect, sweet little cat. 12 weeks old, with all his shots and even fixed! But believe it or not, we had issues with this cat. This adorable, sweet little cat. Who's name was OMG. Yes. O-M-G. That was what my aunt had named him before we got him. We weren't sure how to pronounce it: omg or oh-em-gee. In any case, we decided to rename him. But he hadn't got that far when he disappeared.

You see, we already have a cat. She's my kitty, Alice. Alice is the sweetest, moodiest, roughest little cat on the lot and she walks around like she owns the place. And she doesn't react well to strangers.

I'll tell you how their first meeting went.

Alice: *stare*

OMG: *stare*

Alice: *lean forward*

OMG: *lean forward*

*NOSE TOUCH!!!!!!!*

...

...

...

Alice: HISS!

OMG: HISS!!

HISS HISS HISS HISS HISS HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!

Afterwards, Alice began stalking the kitten, eventually chasing him under my mom and dad's bed. We tried to coax him out from under the bed, but to no avail. Eventually we left the room. After a while, we returned and looked for him under the bed. No kitty. We looked for him under the sheets. No kitty.

And we looked.

And we looked.

And we looked.

Noooooo kittyyyyy.

For hours we didn't find him. Apparently Alice had terrorized the poor thing into hiding into one of my parent's drawer spaces, which are itsy bitsy, but he somehow managed to fit himself in there. Our cuddly wuddly munchkin was safe. We decided to keep an eye on any Cat-On-Cat interactions.

Oh, and we decided to name him Charlie.

OoOoO

So, for some strange reason, this cat doesn't like our dog.

I know! WEIRD! A cat that DOESN'T LIKE DOGS!

For another strange reason, he tends to take out his dog hate on people near him. People like me. My mom also, but this is my time to whine.

I was innocently sitting at the computer desk, doing who-knows-what. Facebook? Blogging? Perhaps. I am not entirely sure. But I was there, and the cat was right beside me. On the desk. Like a good little kitten-child.

Also apparently too lazy to type in another parenthesis, so I drew one in.

There is a lot of brown in this picture. That's because there is a lot of wood in this area. It is a built in desk thing inside the kitchen and it's all wood. The display cabinet things above the computer area are also wood. And glass.

The tile floor looks better than it does in this picture.

My hair looked slightly worse.

Okay. Critique time for this drawing done.

SO I WAS SITTING THERE, MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS, when the dog decided to go under the desk near my feet (or where my feet would be, I always sit with my knees tucked up to my chest or criss crossed in a chair. I don't know why). I thought nothing of it. That is his favorite place to lay down in generally bum around.

Charlie did not think nothing of it. In fact, I'm pretty sure he thought something of it.

So my dear child was hissing and spitting and being upset, and I did what any good mother would do. I thought I would pet the kitty, comfort it and tell him IT'S OKAY! The big bad doggy won't hurt you!

So I was like

And that cat was like



 The pain was intense.

So I got scratched by a cat.

It ruined my day.

Hair

So, I'm kind of annoyed with Blogspot. Why was there a white background on the majority of my last post white? I DON'T WANT WHITE. I WANT DARK AND MYSTERIOUS BLACK. FASJDKFSALDFHF- /explode

So I'm getting my haircut today. As usual, I'm nervous as hell. The only time where I've gotten my hair cut and it looked the way I wanted it to without having to wait a few weeks to grow it out was when I went to my mom's friend's place. Usually people cut it too short but turns out awesome after a few weeks.

Yeah, I prefer shorter hair. Above the shoulders but below the chin. I should get it cut more often than I do so I can maintain the style, but I dunno. I'm getting fringe again but not sideswept bangs. It will be hanging over my eyebrows with the sole purpose to make me a little more blind.

So I don't exactly get it plan on getting it cut too long. Or getting it cut too short, for that matter.

So yeah.

One of my closest friends got her hair dyed blonde while I was gone at camp. Blonde. Blonde. I have nothing against blonde. I used to dye my hair blonde. But I could never imagine Dorothy blonde. She has dyed it black for the last decade (ok maybe not) and she is gloomy and sad and it just DOESN'T SEEM LIKE DOROTHY.

Dad says it makes her look more cheerful. So does mom. It suits her face more.

I looked at the picture and I thought of those scene whores who pose in front of mirrors too much. I felt bad for thinking that. But then I agreed with myself. She looks too much like those stupid kids on the internet. Well, she is on tumblr a lot so-

And despite what my parents believe, she is still as gloomy as ever and never fails to put a damp on my mood when talking about her cruddy life. I still love her, though.

It's her head though so she can do whatever. It looks nice, it just doesn't suit her. I just hope that if I ever dye my hair blonde in the future she won't claim that I'm copying... as always.

There's a few reasons why Dorothy gets under my skin despite being one of the truest friends I have, but this isn't rag-on-your-besties day. It's Saturday. And Saturdays are awesome.

I can't believe I got up at 9AM. I blame camp. They made me get up at 6:45 but the people were so loud I would wake up before them. Now I wake up early on the weekends. Sobbu.

Carrots and Volunteer Work (Youth Conference: Day Two)

Service is good. Service is very, very good. There is nothing wrong with being charitable. Nothing wrong with volunteer work. If I'm fortunate enough to be walking on two legs then I sure as hell better return Gods' favors by helping out the needy. What kind of person would I be if I simply didn't want to go?

I'll tell you what.

A tired one.

All I'm saying is that when you spend the night like this:

And you wake up to this:

You end up turning out a bit like this:

My attitude gets better, but it didn't start out all that sunshiney.Mom was awake before me. I think she tried to go back to sleep a few times, but she was making frequent trips to the bathroom and told me several times she wasn't feeling well. I responded with a sympathetic "dasdjlhfdhafdjghnfhhhnn."

Starting at seven thirty or so, she began saying, "Maybe we should get up, I'm hungry, we should eat breakfast." I replied with a slightly indignant "afgljafghfghsfkghgsdhfg." The whole point of skipping Devotionals (I still don't know what those are anyway) was so that we could catch up on our sleep. She suggested this several times I lied on my bed fully awake but trying to convince myself that I wasn't, and each time I answered my replies grew more and more annoyed and more and more incomprehensible. We could wait for breakfast. We didn't have to go anywhere until ten.

At about 8:30 mom's alarm went off (she tried to sleep again as well and was about as successful as me) and I had no choice but to drag myself out of bed and dress myself. I wore skinny jeans, faded and marred with those holes that are put in there so you don't have to, and my new shirt I got just from attending Youth Conference. I opted for a small ponytail instead of pigtails today. Rare occurance.

 

And so we were off. My poor mother was ill before we started this trip, but seemed to get better. Now she was feeling sick again. Which really sucked. I ate a huge breakfast of eggs that seemed to be premade and a various assortment of meats and pancakes (what? I eat like a bullimic pig, don't you judge me) until I was pretty much ready to vomit. We were told we could probably stay at the hotel for our service project instead of going to the Food Bank, but President was like, "Sorry guys, we're going to the food bank." I had to run up and get my tennis shoes so that the bus didn't leave me.

 

Which, by the way, were nifty city buses, not school buses. I was totally expecting school buses. I was also expecting it to be a ten minute drive. It was a 45 minute one.

Anything before 9PM is just freaking ridiculous. Guess what time I've woken up the past two days? Like 7 AM. Just what the hell is this.

I don't think it's just because of early rising, though, even though I finally understand what the "2:30 feeling" is (hard to understand it when that's the time you wake up). It might have something to do with the fact is that I. Don't. Get. A. Second. To. My. Self. Here. Activities this. Activities that. Get up do this do this eat that do this do this prayer sleep. It's probably best to keep some of us occupied because while we're a big group of Christians and all, we're still a big group of... teenagers.

Even with this justification, I was not happy.

We arrived at the food bank.

I stumbled out of the bus, blearily inspecting my surroundings.

Buildings. Buses. Teenagers. Heat.

Mom, Deena, Anna, their friends, and I went inside.

It smelt like food. Bad food.

We sat at circular tables. They picked random ones and assigned us to random tasks. I didn't hear what we were assigned. We walked downstairs. I blindly followed the trail of children like an obidient ant.

Baby Carrots.

We were assigned packaging baby carrots.

Our equip consisted of the following items:

I'm glad I didn't do anything to dress up or anything, because I saw kids who were wearing their cool emo-goth clothes and equipped with hairnets, they looked miserable.

Actually, we were all miserable

 

Several of us would scoop frozen baby carrots from this giant vat of them. We'd pour them into plastic bags. Then someone else would set the bag on this scale (there were probably seven of them) and take/add baby carrots until it weighed exactly two pounds. They'd throw extra carrots into this plastic tub set by the scale. Then they'd give it to the person in front of them who would seal the bag. And then they'd set it in a different plastic tub. And then someone else (who didn't have to wear gloves or a hairnet WHY) would grab them, set them in a cardboard box, and disappear mysteriously.

　

For a while, I scooped the frozen carrots into the baggies. This got very old very quickly.

You see, I do not have a significant amount of muscle, or anything on my upper arms. And using the same arm to scoop the same carrots over and over again quickly wore it out. Eventually I took up mom's offer to do her job, which wasn't exactly assigned but I wasn't complaining. I just helped Deena add and take away carrots from the bag.

I think some guy works at the food center a little too much.

My group (several dozen kids) were just bagging the baby carrots. There were other people doing different things. Someone was packaging SLICED carrots, and some other people were packaging SHREDDED carrots. In total, we were 120 Mormon kids doing volunteer work. It was boring but it felt pretty good to be helping people.

Then this guy began walking through the rooms.

He was a very enthusiastic man.

He would walk in between the scoopers and the weighers and poke us on the shoulders as he passed, making us turn around and go "who wha?" like confused fish. But more noticably he'd walk in and out of the work rooms shouting "CARROTS!!!"

CARROTS!!!

CARROOOOOOOOTSSSSSS!

First we simply stared at him like he was crazy and went back to work. Later, though, we would call CARROTS right back. Like Red Robin, Yum! or something. But this was just "CARROTS? CARROTS!!!"

Also, on the baggies, there was a label. It read "Carrots, Baby."

The guy made a song out of that.



I will never look at carrots the same way again. We sang along.

Well, I've returned home obviously (that's how I wrote and drew most of this) and that was pretty much the highlight of my time at the Food Bank. Which we totally kicked ass at. I don't want to tell you just how many meals we got ready for people to eat because you'd be totally depressed because you're not as awesome.

It turned out to be a good experience. I wasn't thrilled but as I worked I didn't feel like complaining and actually felt good about helping people. I wouldn't mind helping people again like that.

But please don't make me stand for four hours, okay?

This was long. And not as funny. But I had to write it out before Girls' Camp tomorrow.

Sister Dinosaur wants me at her house at 6:30 AM. She is not getting us breakfast. If we want lunch, we have to buy it at Wal-Mart, where we'll be stopping. I have to buy disposable cameras, snacks, and chapstick for myself while I'm there too, but I still kind of hate her for waking me up early when I've been waking up early all weekend.

I look forward to Girls' Camp though... the heat, though.... yeah. Look at my last post. Just yeah. I have a feeling after this, I'm gunna be a little sick of church related activities for a while.

This was an abormally long post. Not all my posts will be this long or stupid. Promise.

Camp Anxiety

One word: YAY. Okay, so I wasn't exactly EXCITED to go initially, but I'll be going with my brother and my mom so it should be bearable if and when I end up a social clam, unwilling to talk or interact with anyone. I'll be coming back on Saturday only to have a one day break before, you guessed it, ANOTHER church related activity! At least this one I am sure it it will be at least somewhat fun if I can base my first year in Girls' Camp off of it.

Yeah, I'm going two two church "camp" things. First Youth Conference tomorrow for a few days, where I'll go to all these stupid religious workshops and dances and help out organizing canned foods at the Food Drive. Well, I wouldn't have to organize cans, but I refused (as in, nearly had a mental breakdown during practice) to do a two person dance with somebody. It's simply humiliating. So I'm stuck with the cans.

But there's going to be a pool and I'll be sleeping in a hotel... with one bed in the room. With four people. Thanks a lot, church. Maybe if you asked to pay money for our own rooms, I could have an excuse not to go.

Then I'm going to Girls' Camp, which is this camp for the young women in the church. We go out in cabins and do rafting and eat smores and have a grand old time. I know it's going to be at least a little fun, considering my first year there was a blast. Let's ignore the fact me and two other girls snuck out and chugged three litres of root bear and destroyed a whole pack of cookies and laughed and went "star tipping."

For any of you who don't know what star tipping is, it's when one person spins around with their head looking up towards the stars, and they spin 'round and 'round and 'round until someone suddenly flashes the light of a flashlight in their eyes and they stumble and fall to the ground. Hilarity ensues.

But this is a different ward, so I don't know. I like them though.

I'm just really worried about the heat. Heat is awful.

I'm not kidding. It's reached 107 degrees here, and no rain. For anyone that doesn't know, heat + me = dead. I get extremely hot, extremely irritable, and extremely sick. It's like a bad case of PMS, but all because of the sun. I swear to god it's mocking me.

There's going to be AC in the cabins and one of the Young Women's leaders said it was totally fine if I went inside if I got sick because she was the same way, but it's not her that I'm worried about. It's about, hmm, let's call her Sister Dinosaur. My parents aren't exactly very fond of her, and very recently she's been assigned to teach the young women. She's a self proclaimed "camp nazi" and promises not to be like how she was when she was in camp because she understands "the purpose of girls' camp today is a little different than how it was when I was a young woman."

But I know her type. Some nasty, nasty little voice inside my head is telling me, that if I even take a few steps towards my cabin, or if she finds me in there attempting to cool down, she will surely disapprove.

If you couldn't read that, that was me sitting helplessly on a bed in the cabin while Sister Dinosaur barged in and yelled at me for not living the true camp experience. I wrote "way" but my hand hurt, so "experience" was just too much. Yeah.

They say we're going to go rafting. Not Extreme Sport rafting or anything, we're just going to get into our little canoes and float along the river. But I really don't know about that.

Like I said, there have been days where it has hit 107 degrees. And a significant lack of rain.

Only time will tell... only time will tell... /leery glance at lonesome puddle