It should be said that I am a strange mixture of incredibly shy and obnoxiously talkative. I have yet to figure out how I can be both, or contain two very different personalities, but here I am. Call me a social anomaly. My theory is that because I use humor to mask my (often) crippling social anxiety, many people in my life do not know that these are issues I struggle with. Humor is the only way out, from my standpoint.

       It's not difficult to guess, then, that I don't "put myself out there" very often. I am far too concerned with the worst outcome could be, convinced that the worst is exactly what will happen. And then I'll spontaneously combust or the world will stop turning. Or something.

      The first time I tried putting myself out there is, funny enough, also the most embarrassing event in my life. It happened when I was a junior in college. Maybe I was feeling old and mature in all of my 21-year-old glory, or maybe I was tired of watching all of my friends get engaged around me. Who could know what motivated me this particular time, but it was six weeks in the making, all unraveled in the vulnerability of a single minute. 

+++++++

I have changed the name of the ignorant to protect myself, in my account of what seemed to be a harmless crush. It started because Justin was a nice guy—pretty cute, and more importantly, he was smart. Captivated and intrigued, I was drawn to his intellect the way an insect is drawn to a fluorescent light. 

Because I saw him every day in my classes, I worked to create different schemes, different reasons for us to talk to one another. As I sat in my desk each day and packed up my books, my stomach churned and my mind raced, trying to think of something to say before Justin left for the day. I asked him what teacher I should take for Advanced Research next semester, even though I had already planned out my schedule. I lagged behind after class so we could talk about the technology proposed in Jurassic Park, and how probable it was. I sat through and absolutely hated every bizarre minute of Being John Malkovich, just because Justin recommended it. 

       Though these predetermined situations provided fuel for my social cannon, I was upset; I had betrayed myself so I could have a three minute conversation with the guy. But even in my state of regret, I was smitten.

It made me happy, talking to him, and I realized that I wanted to take things to the next level. I thought Justin was worth it, so I made the plan. Having discussed Tolkien in the past, my friends and I decided to have a movie night where we would watch Lord of the Rings: Extended Edition, and I would invite him to watch with us. It seemed like a perfect way to take advantage of our common interests—an innocuous way to immerse him into my world. 

It was a beautiful friday in early June when I built up enough courage to make a move. After class, I tagged along with him as we walked down the hall. Using the recently released Hobbit movie as an introduction, I rambled on as we turned the corner, completely unaware of the words coming out of my mouth; my sporadic heartbeat made me all too conscious of the act I was about to perform.

“So anyways,” I began, feeling as if I was plunging into a deep body of water. “My friends and I are watching Lord of the Rings tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” There. It was out, finally. I could only wait.

An odd expression came over Justin’s face, one that slowly turned into a curious smile. Was it surprise? Surely by now he had to know that I liked him. Was it...embarrassment? It was only a movie with my friends. Completely impersonal, not even a date—we didn’t even have to sit on the same couch. 

“I’m married,” he answered, grinning awkwardly. 

I was paralyzed with shock. Looking at nothing in particular, I stared off in the distance as my mind flew through the past six weeks, searching for a clue, any indication that would help me realize my mistake. Was there ever talk of a wife? Not that I could remember. How could I have missed his wedding ring—I would have checked, right? I was 21, going to a Mormon private college. Being single felt like you had not received your invitation to some exclusive club. We were of a rare breed. And more importantly, you always knew to look for a ring. 
       It all came to a halt as I stood there in the midst of students heading to their next class. There was nothing, nothing I could think of.

Realizing that I needed to respond, I tried to brush it off. 

“Oh, you are?” I asked truthfully, quickly glancing at his left hand. I was right—there was no ring. “It’s just, you seemed cool...” I trailed off, unsure of what to say, where to go from there. 

“Yeah, I keep that part of my life private. I’m flattered though,” he started, obviously trying to appease my embarrassment. 

“Yeah,” I remarked. Still staring off with eyes wide with panic, my hand brushed the back of my neck. I knew I had to get out fast. “Well, I gotta go,” I said in falsely cheery demeanor, and I immediately turned to head down the stairs. 

“Oh...kay...” I heard him say as I walked away, understandably confused. 

I walked outside in a daze, my eyes wincing as the sun shone bright. Grabbing the straps of my backpack, I held on tight as I walked, uncertain of what to do next. I could hardly think, but I pulled out my phone and called my best friend, Brianne. In a somewhat secluded cement corner on campus, I tried to bury myself into the wall—his rejection, a metaphorical dunce cap hanging over my head.

I couldn't contain the sobs as I explained the situation to her. People walked by, some looking on with intrigue, and others uncomfortably trying to ignore this weeping girl. Brianne offered kind and supportive words, but they weren’t enough. As I stood there, absolutely mortified, it seemed like there was no possible way to recover from what I had done. I wanted nothing more than for gravity to stop working, so I would fly off the face of the planet.

Though, in my head, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I still felt like a homewrecker. Vacillating between anger and guilt, I cried, overcome with a shame that should not have been mine to take on.

“It’s his fault!” My friends cried. “He should have known what was going on. I mean, what kind of married guy has a friendship like that with a single girl?” 

I didn’t care. Or I cared too much. But I figured that we were either both at fault, or neither were, and as upset as I was, I didn’t want to place blame.

      This event haunted me all weekend. Every minute was flooded with all of those little moments that we had shared—the little moments that had brought me such joy only days earlier. Those two days were spent trying to figure out what to do. Monday would come, and I would have to see Justin again. And the day after that. And every miserable day after that for the next seven weeks until the semester ended.

On monday, I intentionally arrived to class a few minutes late, quietly slipping into my assigned seat next to his. (Of course, this was the one class in my entire college career that had assigned seating.) Focusing my attention on the board in front of us, I took notes with a diligence that my teacher had never seen in me before. 

After an excruciating hour, I packed up my things, finally facing him. Apologies tumbled out, one after another, as we walked down that same hall. Justin was kind and understanding about the whole matter, but all of the kindness in the world couldn’t carry the embarrassment resting on my shoulders. I never wanted to see Justin again, but here I was, in the same spot as the friday before, asking him, "Can we just be friends?" 

        I had no intention of being friends.

Oh you know, just your average Friday night eating pizza and diagramming sentences with your one friend.

Adventures in Platonic Friendships:

Being friends with Chris has presented its challenges this semester. The thing about Chris and me is that we spend a lot of time together and we're a pretty good team - we do homework, play music and cook and stuff. We've been friends since 2011, so there's a certain kind of ease and comfort that comes with time. But we're not dating. And we never will. That's just not the nature of our friendship.

However, this makes things really difficult for potential dates. The other day a girl asked how we know each other, and I panicked and told her that I was his half-sister so I wouldn't "be in the way" in case she was interested. (Next time I should say "cousin.")

Another time at church, a friend saw us and asked me if I was on a date with Chris. I announced (rather loudly) that I was not going out with anyone, so I wouldn't scare any of the guys in my ward away. 

My mom has texted me on a few occasions saying: "When you have pictures together on the internet, it looks like you're a couple. Just saying." I kind of have to have to shrug my shoulders at that, because there is literally nothing I can do about what other people think.

 I try to set things straight with people who are confused about "what Chris and I are??" but still. 

I understand that if I were a third party observer, I would completely think that we were in a relationship as well. Even people that know us ask us "why we just don't get married already?" and we just laugh it off. But it just bothers me that sometimes we have to tone it down or act differently just so people don't assume things about us. Maybe it is really uncommon to see guys and girls who can just be friends with each other, but it's just something I wish people didn't have to deal with. I should try to find other people who are in the same situation and see what they do?

The dream of the 90's is alive in Rexburg.

6 days until the band is reunited.

So this semester, I'm in a creative non-fiction class. I've never considered myself to be much of a creative writer, but I took it because I like my professor and I came to love the class as well. 

This was for our "open letter to someone who is unlikely to respond" assignment. It's mostly about me and my roommates, though I don't mention them. I think it says something about us - our trash can is across the parking lot and we have to take it out like once a day. But hey, what are you going to do.

___________________________________________________________

An open letter to the neighborhood cats that get into my trashbag,

I suppose it should be my own fault, leaving the trash bag on the porch overnight. And I suppose it could be my fault that I buy such cheap plastic bags that it seems like they’re more for holding trail mix and not sharp-edged cereal boxes and opened cans, but I’m a poor college student and I don’t need to explain myself to you, cat.

     Too many days have passed when I’ve hesitantly stood at the door, afraid to open it and see what fresh hell you’ve dug up from my garbage. Do you think I have time to clean that up as I’m rushing out the door to class? 

I’ll have you know that you add an unnecessary amount of anger into my life, when I am usually a peaceful and content individual. You endured my yelling and shoe-throwing as I caught you in the act, darting fearfully down the stairs. Once, I saw one of you underneath the tire of my car and I seriously contemplated the idea of jamming my keys into the ignition and starting it, indifferent to whether you lived or not. Let that be a lesson to you all! I would shout after the deed was done, twirling the keys on my finger.

I have harbored a heathy dislike against the haughty nature of felines for many years now, but as a general animal lover, I’ll admit that there are reasons why I should feel sorry for you. I understand that it is cold and difficult to find food. One of you is missing a tail, for Pete’s sake—I can’t imagine it’s an easy life. It’s the survival of the fittest for your ragged troupe, I get it.

Others might say that it’s easiest to just take out the trash already, but I’m not about to lose this fight—especially to a bunch of feral, homeless cats.

Sincerely annoyed,

Lexie

Last night was the most fun I've had in a while. Some people in town were having a benefit concert for the Door of Faith orphanage in Mexico. I realized it was the orphanage that we used to go to when I was younger, and we'd go spend the day, bring stuff that they needed, and play with the kids. They function solely off of donations because they don't get any financial support from the government, so it was cool to have a tie to this cause. Also, great music. So I was really excited.

I got my roommate Amy to go with me and she really ended up loving Preston Pugmire. I forgot how talented that guy is - we decided he is a performer and not just a musician.
Then West Memphis came out and Preston Pugmire, Garrett Sherwood, Ryan Hayes, and Jon Peter Lewis all sang and it was a freakin party. I've always enjoyed West Memphis and their groove.
Tandem was last and Amy and I just marveled at how well their voices blend together. They actually sound like angels. This is probably something we noticed because we like to sing together.

As I was watching, I was having a really good time but there was also this small part of my heart that hurt because I missed this. I miss all the shows featuring all my favorite people and  I miss playing music. It's nice to play with Chris and I am dying to play with him when he comes back in a few weeks, but we're not a part of the Rexburg music scene. Watching everyone on stage - it just seemed like life was so much fun, just all these friends out to have a good time.
It makes me want to change that next semester, to get out of the secret hallway where we always play and to play somewhere where people can actually hear us, to practice for a reason.

So of course, Amy and I were so excited to go home and sing and play ourselves, and we had pizza and geverything was great.

It's been weird since I've posted last, so I'll try to describe this as accurately as I felt it.

Things have been so so good lately, but things have been freakin terrible, as well.
But then there was this guy I used to know and thought he was cute, so for two weeks I tried to muster up the courage to go talk to say hi and talk to him. Two weeks. And every time I didn't do it, I went home hating myself for not being brave enough, and it was a really miserable time.
So finally I did it, and celebrated that victory. I was ready to keep it up, but then I saw him eating lunch with some girl, and for whatever reason, that was so disappointing to try to deal with.

It's rough being a young, single Mormon person sometimes - I don't know if we give people enough credit. Most of my friends are moving on in life, and I'm getting left behind. I feel like I'm doing life wrong when I look and see all these people around me in relationships and I can't even score a freakin date. When I'm especially upset, I wonder why I can't be deserving of affection, and then I have to do my best to try and build myself up again, because I can't allow that sort of toxic thinking into my life.

There have been so many times this semester, (this event is just one of them) but so many times that I can't even count, where I have felt maybe the loneliest I've ever felt. And each of those times, I would pray and ask the Lord, Why does it seem like every time I try to make a change in my life, it all falls flat? Why am I alone all of the time? What is your purpose in doing this, what are you trying to teach me?

My faith has grown this semester, but it has moments of weakness, just like anyone else. And it wasn't necessarily that I was mad and screaming at Him. These prayers were really quite heartfelt  they were asked out of frustration and confusion, where I was going to Him saying, "I just don't understand..."

If I can assign or impose any sort of purpose, this semester (so far) has been to teach me about the Lord's timing, and that I need to trust in Him. Completely. It's so hard to do that though, because I like to be in control. I like to know what's going on, what's going to happen. I am starting to see now just a fraction of what this means, to trust the Lord's timing, and realize that He is orchestrating great events in my life. I just have to be patient, so I've asked for help with that as well - asking for help to be patient and keep in mind His purposes for me and my life, to align my will with His will. It's hard y'all.

I can tell you that every time I prayed earnestly, each time I told Him, "I actually don't think I can do this anymore. This hurts too much, and I don't think I can go on without sinking into a depression," and I was always comforted. Always.
It wasn't always immediate, sometimes it even took a day or so, but I always woke up feeling better, or experienced something during the day that helped me realize, "Life isn't so horrible. There are still beautiful things in my life, I am still being blessed." I have never been left comfortless, and I am incredibly grateful for that.

Al Carraway (Fox) is one of my favorite people you know, because she is such a great example to me. She always turns to her faith in times of hardship, and I'm trying to be more like that. I read this blog post and it was really comforting because she talks about her husband and says, "I thought I'd have to eventually settle, or compromise. But the thing about Heavenly Father is that if you are trying and you are patient, you will never be short changed from the best blessings in life."

That really speaks to me, because she is such an incredible person and it brings me a lot of comfort to know that she struggled with these same feelings as well. Now she's married, she has like two dogs, and is pregnant. Her and her husband are a team and they build each other up and they're so happy. She's living the dream.

So like every other time I've had a freak out about my single-hood or have been frustrated with my situation, I just have to come back to this thought: don't worry about it. Do what you can, continue to develop your relationship with God - but work on yourself so you can be an awesome person, and maybe you'll find an awesome person and you two will conquer the world together. But don't think that someone is going to swoop in and save you from all of your problems. Most often, you have to save yourself.

On Valentine's day, my roommate Dani and I went to our local cupcake store, Cocoa Bean, for some drinks. 

I was standing in line, thinking about what to order when this guy came up to me with his hand extended, waiting for me to shake it. It was my dad's boss Mark, from home!

Surprised to see him, I looked over and saw his whole family. They told me they were there visiting their son, who also attends school at BYU-I. 

We had a nice chat and then he asked if he could "treat" Dani and I and buy our drinks. I was so touched by his kindness. It might not have been a big deal to him, but it was a really nice gesture.

So the son that goes to school here - he has a band called Dirty Gold, and I'm not just saying this because I know him and his family, but his music is really good. My family loves listening to their EP. And I really admire the fact that he walked away from it for two years to go on a mission when they were starting to get big - I can't imagine that was easy to do. Really cool. 

I found out last minute that they were playing at Sammy's, so I thought I'd go. I haven't seem him play since the Che Cafe in San Diego (it might have been their 1st show?? I can't remember. Anyways, I'll always remember that as the time I accidentally used a men's bathroom.) and it did not disappoint. 

Something feels a bit different about Sammy's nowadays. In the past it seems like we were always there to see Fictionist or for a slam, and I don't know what has happened - maybe the music scene isn't what it used to be, maybe Sammy's is catering towards a different audience these days - I don't know, but I don't love it as much as I used to. It's become this place to be seen now, and not to experience. 

But the Dirty Gold show was freaking great, and I LOVE the direction he's moving in now. My friend described it as "underwater techno" and I about died laughing. I think that's the best genre I've ever heard of. I hope he's coming out with a full CD soon because I really want some of the new songs I heard last night.

Last night (or this morning, rather) I had a lot of fun making some new friends. Our FHE brothers invited us to go to the haunted mill. Those places usually freak me the crap out, (yes, that felt as weird to type as it was to read) but it was a lot of fun. 

Afterwards, we stood around in the parking lot and someone asked what we should do next?

I answered, half-jokingly, that we should go eat at Denny's. 

Everyone was in.

So we headed over to Idaho Falls, only we ate at Shari's instead. There were 10 of us, and we felt bad that some poor waitress had to put up with our sugar packet throwing, straw wrapper blowing shenanigans. (We tipped her well.) There's something about being awake after midnight that turns everyone into 12 year olds. Many recalled inappropriate jokes that were told to a wide-eyed audience. 

I'm going to be honest when I say that there was a romantic interest that I was trying to pursue, and it sort of...fell flat? Got stuck in place? I don't know. Anyways, I was really happy to find that by the end of the night, I didn't really care about it because I had such a good time and laughed so much.

This past weekend, Kelsi, Chad, Chris, and I all went down to SLC to watch Conference.

We had tickets for sunday morning session, and the thing that stood out to me was President Monson's talk, of course. (As well as O Divine Redeemer sung by the tab choir - wowowow!)

As soon as he started talking about his wife, tears were streaming down my cheeks. I have a testimony of the Prophet, especially of Thomas S. Monson. I love him with all my heart.

(Chris and I look like we're dating in these pictures, and we're not. I'm like his mother, haha.)

I haven't really felt like blogging lately, and to be honest, I've been a bit busy.

I started another semester of college and we're starting our third week.

Time is the strangest thing, and I always notice it here at school. It feels like we never left, but I find myself amazed that we're on our third week. Wha??!?!

I'm really happy to be back with Kelsi and Chris this semester, and Chad is back from his mission. We one roommate from last semester (Amy), and another girl that lived next door (Dani). I'm having a really good time with them, and we all get along really well. We're all just really comfortable with each other, and it's one of the best roommate setups I've been in, which I am incredibly grateful for, because I have been in some pretty crappy situations.

I'm back in my same ward, and about half of them are new, but the vibe of the ward is the same - if not better. I love our bishopric, and our Relief Society really wants us to all get to know each other. Today we had a lesson about our worth and then we shifted to stormy seasons in our life and how we endure life's trials. I don't think there was a dry eye in the room. The Spirit was so strong and everything was wonderful. 

My classes are going well, and there are two teachers that I love, in particular. They are Brother Pyper, who teaches Church History, and Bro. d'Evegnee, who teaches the Absurdist Hero (lit class on Camus and Salinger). I love it.

Things are really great, for the most part. I had a bad day on friday because I was frustrated with a few things in my life, so I made it a self-care day and did things to take care of myself.  I went for a long walk around the city, and went to play piano for 2.5 hours. I missed out on time to spend with Chris and Kelsi, but I felt like it was important so I could get in a place where I wouldn't blow up, mentally. I'm learning more about self-care things, and I really recommend it. I felt so much better. 

So go figure out what makes you happy, and go do that when you're feeling crappy. Don't worry about your friends or family. They'll be there when you come back.

I wish I had a good picture of me with my friends, but all I have from this semester is this picture of me at the Farmer's Market. So vain, I know. Sorry about it.

We've got an exciting weekend coming up - the four of us are planning on going down for Conference next week. That means a massive amount of homework to do beforehand, but it's fine. I'm really looking forward to Conference this year!

Sometimes during class, Brother Brown would disappear. He would return a minute later, with a poster in hand.

The running joke is that he hates those corny motivational posters that hang in classrooms. He encourages the students to take them down, "but only when he isn't looking."

He made me draw on them, and sometimes it was difficult to be funny or clever. But we liked these ones. And as far as I know, they're still hanging in various classrooms in the Smith building.

(The Star Wars one is my favorite.)

I've wanted to write about something that I've struggled with this semester, but have had to push away until I had time to deal with it.

The end of this semester marks some rather large changes in my life.

A lot of them. In a pretty short amount of time.

On friday, I had to say goodbye to my boss, Brother Brown. He got a new job on the east coast and he's leaving the school. I've known about it since the beginning of the semester, but I never really had time to deal with it. And my way of dealing with it would entail me being gloomy and sad, and that's not how I wanted to spend my last semester as his T.A.

It's been a great semester. I taught a few times, and had both the best and the worst teaching experience of my life (all in the same day). I tried to improve my grading methods, and I spent more time in class with him and the students.

On friday I hung out in his office and we finalized grades. I tried to enjoy the moment, sitting there in his office, as I knew it would be my last. 

When it was time to go, I told him "thank you" for everything. We hugged and he told me to call if I was ever in his area.

After I left, I was crying because one of my concerns has been that I am afraid that I will not be able to be the person I want to be without his influence. (Keep in mind, that my best friend is leaving on her mission in about two weeks, and she is my rock. Brianne and I have been friends for 10 years, and she knows me better than anyone.)

I've just been overwhelmed with a lack of confidence this semester, and had serious anxiety about these two very influential people in my life. Can I be who I want to be without their example?

It's funny, because for my Lit final, I had to write a paper on "Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night", and the author's fears about losing his father. 

In my conclusion paragraph, I talked about how his father's death can be an opportunity for him to be a great man, and an opportunity to prove himself and his capabilities.

When revising it one day, I realized that I'm in the same position. I have these people that I admire so much, but probably rely on them too much. The absence of my best friend and my boss, who has been a mentor to me, is a chance for me to learn to stand on my two feet and be the person I can be.

I think that thought will buoy my spirits in this situation, because I am really sad about it. I just want all of the people that I love to be in my life forever, and with each passing year I find that that isn't how life works. 

I feel like my nostalgia/sentimentality has been one of my weaknesses, because I take it to a point where it's probably not healthy. 

This time around, I'm trying to approach it differently. 

I am always trying to learn how to turn fear into gratitude. 

Because I am so grateful that I even have these people in my life at all, and I'm grateful that I've so many chances to learn important skills/lessons from them. I'm lucky to have people who mean that much to me at all. 

After pondering that for a while, I went home and wrote Brother Brown an email telling him just exactly what I meant when I told him thank you, even though it's often an empty and trite platitude. 

I thanked him for the person that he helped me to become, but the best part is, I don't stop here. There is so much more room to learn and progress. I'm glad he had a hand in it.

Wow, this last week of school has been intense. It was alright though, because even though I was extremely busy, I didn't have any meltdowns or anything. It was relatively stress free. Sweet.

So anyways, I have a lot of posting to catch up on.


Let's start with last saturday, which was one of the best days of my life.


It was Kelsi and Emma's last day, so we wanted to make it special.
They were out exploring while we were at school, and happened upon Cave Falls. They loved it and decided that they needed to bring us.
It was so stunning.

Chris and I jumped in the water and went swimming. It was ice cold but it was so refreshing.

Then we went back to Rigby so we go float down the river with Kelsi's family, and oh my gosh, that was so much fun!
Brianne, Kelsi, and I all shared this huge tube and we fell off a few times trying to go over waterfalls and duck under fallen trees. We were laughing the entire time.

When we were finished, we had to hurry back to Rexburg because we were having a dinner party with our friends and they were waiting for us. It was a really nice time.

We wrapped things up and went to Kaire Anne's for dessert. We can't help it, we just love that place so much.

There were still a few hours left before curfew, so we went to the park and attempted to set off a floating lantern. It was way too windy and it shot off across the field like a rocket, scaring many couples, I'm sure. Then it floated away in the sky as we were all dying of laughter.

Yesterday, Kelsi and Emma met up with us to go to the Summerfest on Main Street. It was sad in a really ironic sort of way though, because it was raining on and off.
We saw Garrett Sherwood and the West Memphis play again, and had a lot of fun dancing. There was this one kid behind us dancing, and he was so hilarious. Couldn't be bothered by who was watching him. It reminded me of Cooper.

Then we went over to The Hickory, which Kelsi has been wanting to try, (and so have I!)
We hurried over to Sammy's and ate before the Rexburg Poetry Grand Slam started.
I was so excited about this. The slams are one of my favorite things, and I've been looking forward to it since it was announced.

I was really happy that Kelsi got to be there with us, because in every memory I have of the slams, she's there with me.
Even Phillip came up...and man, this kid. I have all of these motherly feelings towards him, so it was funny to watch him pace in the back as he waited his turn. He was so nervous, and I just wanted to give him a hug or something.

Jeff Smith won, and I don't know when he started slamming, but I really like his stuff. Maybe he's relatively new on the scene, who knows?
There were some really really great poems and I'm so happy that poetry slams are a thing here. I am constantly in awe of all of the many creative and talented people, and I love all of the things that I learn from them.

I hope you had a great 4th of July. I did, and I'm really happy about it because I've had some rather crappy 4th of Julys since I've started going to school.

(Last year, I went with Kelsi to Chad's sister's house. We ate but then felt like we couldn't leave because we had to watch 8 hours of the Jane Eyre BBC series. It was a good series, but not exactly how we wanted to spend the day.)

This year we started off with Jamba Juice while we watched the parade. We met up with our good friend Rachel, and her roommate. Some others joined us. We found a really great/shady spot in front of a mattress store, and we watched our friend Ryan in the drumline.

My favorites were the drumline, the car wash guys, and some people dressed up as zombies dancing to "Thriller".

Then we went to the store to grab some food to BBQ. Ammon's friend, Christian, ate with us. Even Chris got to stop by for a little while, even though he had homework and work later on.

We were going to go swimming in...some body of water (we hadn't really decided where) but Christian suggested that we go to this water slide. Someone had set up a large tarp with a big hose at the top of a hill, and filled up a pit at the bottom of the slide with water. People were going down with inner tubes. 

Some groups would try to pile 7 people on one tube, and it was hilarious to watch them make it down the hill. It was really fun.

This slide was in Sugar City, and I had never been there before. It's small, but it was so beautiful to see the green fields and the clouds hanging over them. 

We stopped to get some shaved ice before going home to rinse off and head out to Idaho Falls to watch the fireworks.

We met up with Natalie and her friends there, and had to wait a long time. Apparently, (I didn't find this out until this morning) a man had gone swimming and they couldn't find him. The fireworks were delayed because they were searching, and they found his body at about 1 AM.

That was really sad to hear. My heart is with his family and friends.

Sorry to end that on a sad note, but I had a good day.

I'm grateful for all of the people who serve our country, and grateful for our forefathers for providing a framework for us to establish our rights.

In Illustration class, my teacher pulled a fast one on us and introduced an "Art Test". We thought we were only going to have one more project before the end of semester, and I was relieved.

We can choose our project, so I planned it out carefully. I would have plenty of time to work on it without getting stressed or overwhelmed. Sounds great, right?

Nope.

He told us about this Art Test last tuesday, and it was due yesterday, so it really threw my plans for a loop. 

We had to pretend like we were applying to a studio and we had to choose from three different assignments: character design, environment design, or user interface design.

This test was for a game called Agent 8. We were given a brief description for each character, and our teacher told us that he wasn't going to help us at all. We were on our own. Agent 8 is an octopus, apparently. He has a communications officer named Kaylie, and I wanted to draw her.

This was my first time working with a texture, and I thought it was fun. It can get busy though, so I'll have to be mindful of that for the future. 

I don't know why, I just really wanted her to have purple hair. 

On Saturday, Brianne and I went to the Paul Bunyan Music Festival, which was conveniently located at the park across the street from our house.

There were a lot of really diverse bands, and I feel like there was something for everyone. 

My favorites were Mallorie (her voice, what even), Tandem, and Jeff Smith. I had a really good time, despite the oppressive heat.

They wrapped it up with Garrett Sherwood (who we are big fans of) and the West Memphis. They are so groovy and so much fun and everyone was dancing. 

I got nothing done this weekend, but I don't regret any of it. It was so much fun, and I'm really glad that there are people around that put on these events, because I appreciate them. It makes Rexburg special to me.

 Summer is definitely upon us in Rexburg, even though there have rainy days.

(I don't know why rain during the summer is still a weird thought for me?)

I leave for class about 30 minutes early so I can get to the building and cool off on the bench in the women's room before I go to class.

Our house is a freakin sauna all the time, and we're currently trying to figure out what to do about it.

I'm up to three cold showers a day now.

It's hard because it's actually a really fun time to be here, but we're too poor to do anything.

We'd like to go to the river and go exploring but don't have money for gas.

Instead, we sit around our house complaining about the heat and I'm sure we're not fun people to be around when we get like this.

I feel bad about it.

Yesterday we went to my friend's last softball game of the season. I met Rachel last year when we were both on the softball team (go Hawks!) and we were both in outfield. This girl can throw incredible distances, and she always helped me to improve and encouraged me when I was getting down about myself. She is so funny and I love being around her.
I got to the game a bit late, but the other team was up by 8-0.
The Hawks turned it around and it was the craziest game to watch. It lasted about 2.5 hours and the final score was 24-12. I mean, what?!?! Those poor girls must have been so exhausted, because they were putting in their best effort throughout the entire game. (Also, it was hot.)
It was so cool to be there. I recognized a few friends from my old team and I felt like I was apart of softball again. It was a nice feeling, but also a bittersweet one.

Maybe if I play my cards right, I can play in the fall.