Nearing the end, but not the end of the week and I am
Tired of my classes and my students calling me when I'm asleep to ask for deadline extensions (really?), and of dreary days that look cold and feel colder.

And somehow I've managed to stay healthy all semester until the hell of finals and grading and paper paper paper writing set in this week.

And the snow on the mountains is taunting me because the only thing that makes utah livable in the winter is escaping to the mountains to ski, but I can't go until I cross off all of those to-do's on that never-ending scroll of paper.

And the only boys I've dated recently did impressions of mentally handicapped people and told me we should try out birth control to a room of people on the third time we'd ever talked--and I wonder if one day a normal male will be attracted to me.

And then today I had a peer review group find all of the nasty flaws in my argument that I was ignoring.

But my roommate is playing Pride and Prejudice music on the piano and I can hear it drifting up the stairs.

And I talked to my sisters yesterday.

And this morning I went on a walk when no one was out and it felt fresh and good to stretch my sore back.

And I got to spend a whole 6 days with my nieces and nephew last week in the sun, smelling the fresh lawn and rejoicing in them.

And I heard coldplay's new christmas song.

And my friend is glowing because she is engaged to the right man.

And I just found out my darling cousin-twin is coming to utah. Next friday.

And I am sitting in my quiet room as the sky grows darker and realizing that amidst the chaos of life, I am so, so blessed. And really, I wouldn't want things to be different.



As my brother and I drove to nana’s birthday we almost got lost in the labyrinth of great dark homes but wondered how because that country club was our summers, and how could we forget that? So we shared memories of sliding on the grass in our slippery skins and of holding hands hoping the other wouldn’t take the leap of faith from the high dive because then we would have to, and of putting grilled cheeses and popsicles on grandpa’s tab. When we walked inside I saw small girls with dark curling hair and white skin and big eyes. Girls who like ghost stories and want to be hobbits in the movies and who were born to carve serpentining scars through deep white powder. Girls that come from nana’s sons; she has five plus one daughter. Girls that share my blood, that are darker, dimpled versions of me.

Our dinner was pink steak and herbed creamy mashed potatoes with brown sugared squashes. The newest mother, one of the small dimpled girl had just written about fall squashes and her recipes, so we had all read and cooked and eaten the squashes as she had said to. So we compared the squashes at dinner to the ones we had eaten separately, but together. And they were warm with sugar and butter and smelled like fall and home. Then came the pie that one girl thought was just plain pie not apple pie because she didn’t know that pie comes in flavors. And we laughed and ate and laughed. And the room was full of us, connected by blood and memory, by loss and laughter, by pie and joy, and we were full.

Together we listened to the stories of our past, our history, our memory. A son-and- uncle told of nana shooting him with his bee-bee gun after he gloated over a glistening hummingbird’s body. Another son-and-uncle told of the sacrifice she made when she cared for three extra children that belonged to her twin because his wife died when she was twenty-seven, leaving her little clan motherless. They told of punishments and cleanliness, of arm-wrestling their mom, and of mud fights in the field, of being hit by cars and of a father who watched over them, day and night. One son-and-uncle said “Sometimes everything in your life is right, you are warm and you can hear your parents cooking bacon on a frigid morning in the drafty cabin and you know you are safe and warm and full.” Another reminded us that we are blessed to have the connections to one another that we do because any of us would do anything for the others, and that is what it means to be safe and warm and full.

We laughed and shared old stories again and again until the moon was overhead and the stars had been sparkling, reflecting in the pool outside for a long time. And as we left and kissed each other’s cheeks and promised more recipes and writing, we knew that everything was right.



Cold was drifting in with the neighbors dog’s voice when I woke up in my dark bedroom today. I opened the dusted blinds to check the forecast but things weren’t looking favorable, not that I could tell because I saw only black. So I hurried and stood out of the water stream behind the new shower curtain until the steam warmed enough to coax me in. I arrived to my class panting with a dripping head of shower and rain, and my students stared at me like they were bored and nervous (paper due at 8am. “we thought at 4pm.” Okay, by 4pm but I’m being real nice so you had better like me, please).

We talked about globalization and how it encompasses everything else and how they could write about avatar or invictus or torture in heath’s last movie, or poverty or aids or war. And I felt sad to think about Mandela in that tiny cell for twentysevenlongyearsofhislife. That is my life+five years. But my students don’t know my age because I trick them to think I am older to compensate for my doll baby face. My baby face framed by cold wet rain-and hot shower hair.

Waiting for those students to turn in their papers made it a long day so I went to hear about vampires: creepy, snarky, puffy guys with one nostril and pink skin, according to eastern European peasants in the eighteenth century.
A very long day.
My throat feels a little sore and my head is a bit aching but maybe it’s because I got too much sleep last night because I didn’t feel so hot when I went to bed (besides my temperature) but I felt cold when I woke up because it was misty and dark and still, with only one voice echoing in my room.


Hard things

Although I typically refrain from addressing anything serious or difficult via blogging, I feel compelled to confront the terribly hard topic of homosexuality. Most of you know that I am Mormon, and many of you are too. This is a very delicate topic, but I have been thinking about a lot lately--since Boyd K Packer's talk in general conference.

As is commonly known, many Mormons choose to abide by the 10 Commandments given to Moses in addition to others that have been given to prophets more recently. Two of the original 10 commandments are: Thou shalt not commit adultery, and, Thou shalt not covet. Like many other worshipers, including Christians and Jews, Mormons believe that no person is exempt from the edicts of God. We believe his word to be true and final.

That being said, homosexuality is a delicate issue. In his talk, Boyd Packer stated that God did not make people homosexual. I believe this to be true. I also believe that God did not give some people a particularly strong sex drive, health problems, mental disorders, or any manner of physical trials. I believe that those are the products of mortality, of having a body. And those who believe that God did make people homosexual (and who thus believe sodomy okay) do not believe God; he declared sodomy a sin.

I have heard multiple Mormons argue: "homosexual tendencies are no different from other trials. Some people have tendencies to be alcoholics, and others gamblers ect." While I am not trying to discredit anyone's opinions, I am not sure that those trials are similar at all. From what I understand (and I am no expert), many people feel attraction to the same sex from a very young age, and feel it at all times. Potential gamblers and alcoholics must first try gambling or alcohol to gain addictions; homosexuals don't need to fornicate to feel same-sex attraction. For this reason, I feel that this trial is particularly difficult, and I feel great sympathy for those with feelings of same-sex attraction (I am not trying to sound patronizing or reductive here).

Which brings me to my next point: the sin of homosexuality is sexual sin, covetousness, inappropriate thoughts. There is a distinction between acting upon tendencies and not acting. I believe that those who do not participate in or encourage those tendencies, who actively seek God's help, and who exercise faith will be blessed.

I believe the words of Boyd Packer. As I have said, this issue is hard and I debated for a long time about writing. I already fear some of the comments I may receive. Please know that Mormons believe in a gospel founded upon love, upon respect, upon kindness, upon not judging. And thus I think it is very important that Mormons recognize the difficulties surrounding this issue, that they do not dismiss and ignore it, that they make a conscious effort to think about it and to decide how they will treat their (spirit) brothers and sisters.

This may sound contradictory to those who disagree with me, but, my intent and Elder Packer's intent in speaking is not to be unkind or bigoted toward other people. It is to firmly support the commands of God.


you blog?!?!?

One of my students asked my if I have a blog and was shocked that I answered affirmatively. He asked me what I blog about...I had no idea how to respond. Probably because this was what I planned to write today:

Today I tried to catch a snake and it defecated on my hand. Truly.


The land of the ...and the home of the ....

Sometimes, I randomly think to myself: "Just doin' my duty for God and my country." Oddly enough, this usually happens when I am cleaning the bathroom, walking to campus, or engaging in an adrenaline-inducing activity.

The strangest part of this situation is that I hate phrases like that. Too much USA pride, which I always associate with hicks and old navy flag shirts, irks me. I can't really say why those things irk me, I really do like this place.

In conclusion, I am totally strange and full of contradictions.

The end.


Hello, Africa.

It has been a good summer.



Many of you know I have a profound aversion for anything "hunting." I went to a store called Cabella's in UT the other day and almost threw up because of the hundreds of dead animals on display--including a grizzly bear and mountain lion. Although this aversion is basically irrational ( I eat meat often and realize those cows suffer a lot more than the deer), I am attempting to explain it here and now.

Story 1:
When I was a child, my grandfather would feed stray cats in the neighborhood. One such infamous cat was named blacky. He was always super mangy and frightening. At one point he attacked my grandpa who is diabetic and subsequently had to go to the hospital. I was under the impression that the cat broke and ripped up his arm, when really he only got a few cuts. Understandably, I was always terrified to enter their house for fear that blacky would be lurking, waiting for me. One day we road tripped up to my grandparent's home (12 hours in the car as a small child) and I was totally fried. We walked up onto the driveway to see this:

Some birds were eating blacky's cat food, which was unacceptable to g-pa because he so dearly loved the devil. So, logically, my grandpa had his GUN BARREL out the window pointing at the walk way (meaning me, as a small child) and had recently shot a bird which was flailing around, bloody and dying before my eyes. He told us to throw it in the trash which we would not do, so he came out and shot it a few more times. It still didn't die, but was thrown to its stinky grave still violently thrashing around.

Story 2:
My family took a backpacking trip to the wind river mountains. We fished during the day to catch dinner. I didn't really have a problem hooking them because it seemed pretty adult-ish and adventurous. My dad would remove the fish from the line and in one neat, swift crack, would whack the fish head, leaving it dead within seconds. Neat and tidy.
So, one afternoon my dad went up to get the fish cooking and left my little brother and I to get some more for dinner. Easy. We caught one and that is where everything went drastically wrong. We were unable to kill the fish:

We whacked his head repeatedly, guts and blood flying everywhere and all over us, but IT WOULD NOT DIE. Flailing and still alive, it totally freaked me out. We couldn't kill it but were making it suffer badly. Finally, screaming and covered in guts, we ran up to camp where my dad, surprised and alarmed, killed the dang thing with one hit.

And that, all you stalker boys, is why hunting is my deal-breaker.

*My uncle later shot blacky at the bequest of my grandmother, who was afraid she would get eaten alive. But never tell my grandfather--he thought the cat wandered away and died a peaceful death.


Beware the door.

This morning I arose at 4:30 am to take my darling roommate Rachel to the airport. It was fine because I had to go into work at 7 in SLC anyway. I was so tired after I dropped her off that I decided to find a parking lot so that I could take a quick nap in my car. I found an IHOP in a very sketchy area of town and settled down with many semi trucks for some zzzz's.

Once awake again I figured I should probably grab some breakfast in the IHOP. By the way, the prices at that restaurant are obscene for greasy eggs and overcooked pancakes. I digress-- the only other person in the place was "the tool." IHOP uniform unbuttoned to show his chest, shaved head, soul patch and an overall tough guy demeanor. His eye was stitched and he had bruises everywhere. It was also oozing.

He pestered me with questions even though it was now only 7am and I was clearly delirious, until he actually sat on my table asking me about my job and life. Not appropriate. He then informed me that he usually looked a lot better but got "hit with a door" last night. I think "door" is the codename of the girl's boyfriend with whom he cheated. He continually informed me we should have some coffee together because we were both so tired.

I got out of there in record time.



John Keats is my favorite poet right now. Here are two of his most famous poems:


Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death.


When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charactry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love; -- then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.


Peanut butter and celery.

Disclaimer: My photo uploader on this blog is horrible and does not work. Thus the chronology of my photos is backward and I can't write between them.

Life has been a blur of late. I had eyelid surgery (skin cancer) the day before graduation and thus had a bloody, stitched eye for my glamor photos. I then went with my parents and aunt to disneyland because she has never been before. And despite what Baulldriard says, I still love that place. The Indiana Jones ride never ceases to amaze me.

For the past month I have been living in Boulder, CO with my sister and her darling, adorable babies. It has been delightful (think swimming, parks, walks, playing house, picnics, mountains and henna tatoos). My other siblings came out over the long weekend to run in the Boulder Boulder, a 10k / Party... Forty thousand hippies running together with bands playing, belly dancers, slip n slides ect. I obviously loved every second of it and came in 17,000 somethingth place.
Summer is my favorite season. I have done my best to spend as much time outside as possible and to eat plenty of watermelon, cinnamon toast and lemon yogurt.

PS the last photo is of my final project for my theater makeup class--I just couldn't resist.

PSS Note the photo of Carmen screaming on the "roller coaster." Afterward Lucy said it was boring.


I finished

4 years
51 Classes
80+ Exams
? Pages read
16 English classes
5 Folk bands
5 Countries visited
1 Study abroad
2 Performing tours
1 Missed tour due to surgery
5 Surgeries total
200+ Pages written
2 Senior Thesis papers
8 Stellar professors
5 Most roommates at once
1 Niece born
1 Nephew born
3 Grad schools to choose from
1 Grad school Rejection
1 Season pass to Park City ski resort
1 Season pass to Seven Peaks
50+ Boxes of Cereal consumed

Final Semester
3 Surgeries
5 A's
15+ Number of times skiing
1 Pair of new skis
1 Trip to Colorado
1 Trip to AZ for surgery
1 bloody/black eye
2 Graduation ceremonies
1 Trip to disneyland
1 Threw molotov cocktails
1 Hiked 17 miles through snow
1 Book club
1 Job as research assistant
1 Editing position

YAY! I'm done!


Senioritis or Sheer Genius?

I included this "diagram" in my Senior Capstone paper. I drew it using the paint accessory on my computer. It does make sense in context, I swear. Hahaha.


Skiing is better than kissing

1. Legitimate Endorphins
2. Beautiful scenery (although kissing can, at times, encompass this as well)
3. Instantly reduces all stress instead of creating more
4. Flying solo
5. Nothing, nothing is more fun than a long powder run (despite what Whitney says)
6. Skip because of Satan (thanks tara)
7. Instant self-esteem boost
8. Toned thighs and butt
9. No cooties involved
10. Out of Provo!
11. Snow is sparkly

*This blog post may or may not have been inspired by a new pair of rossi powder skis and some less than romantic kisses.


Oh brother

A while back I was driving to rehearsal early (for a college campus anyway) around 7:20 AM. I saw some dude waiting to cross the street who was doing something weird to his face but I couldn't tell what. As I drove closer, I discovered that this fellow was SHAVING with an electric razor, no mirror and with his eyes half-closed and glassy. Of course, who is the one person in the world that would do this? Yup, it was my brother Rob.

Another great experience: I was entering the gym one evening when some hippy, pot-smoking, dread wearing, B.O. man approached me, mumbling something or other. I thought he was going to flash me (logical, I know) so I quickly ran inside. I was swimming laps that evening. I noticed that somehow the guy got into the gym...then into the pool area and i totally thought he was following me. He went over to the spa where all the hunks and babes stare at each other and started stripping down. Literally, pulling off millions of layers and dropping them in a smelly heap on the wet, musty, gym ground. No need for the locker room there. Once he was down to his SOCKS, boxer briefs, SUNGLASSES (everyone wears them at night), BEANIE, and GLOVES, he slid into the spa. He stayed for a really long time while all the hunks and babes stared and stared at him. When he left, he simply got out and started pulling the layers back on. No towel. Nothing. I love my life.


Health Care

Walking around BYU campus the past few days has been pretty eye-opening. So many of my fellow comrades are in a fury about the new Health care reform. They can't believe this "country is going to the dogs" and that "the socialists have control." Wow. And whenever I ask what should be done people respond that they "don't know. But not this!" Ok....

There has been increasing disparity between the poor and the rich since the 70s, and the middle class is shrinking--which will eventually result in a large lower class and a tiny upper class. Capitalism and conspicuous consumerism creates losers. Inherently. The problems with health care are huge.

Speaking from the perspective of one who has had major and continual health issues, I can say that the idea of insurance causes great anxiety for me. What if I can't afford good insurance and thus can't see respected specialists? Is my career path going to pay me enough so that I can have adequate coverage? How will I get coverage with my pre-existing health conditions? I feel this way-- and have been blessed enough to have good care so far. But, there are those who cannot acquire health care and have never seen good doctors. How must they feel?

Although I cannot promise this plan will be ideal, I am going to be super didactic and say that we should all open our minds a bit to the situation around us and realize that this health care plan is at least trying to take care of the underdogs. Sheesh.


Come to my show!

Wednesday, March 10
7:30 pm
Madsen Recital Hall


ski ski ski ski ski ski ski ski ski ski ....ski

If you know me, you definitely know that skiing, in any of its forms, is my favorite pastime. I skied on Friday--it was a blue bird sunny day with powdery snow and no lift lines at Jupiter. I did some hiking, had a snickers picnic on top of Scott's bowl overlooking the Wasatch range, and got a goggle tan.

Well, for some reason, my brain has been fixated on water skiing lately and how much I miss it during the winter. Last night I had a dream....... I was in class, listening to a boring lecture when my cousin Jonathan rolled up in a suburban with my Dad's boat hitched up. My other cousins were tan and laughing, in bikinis, listening to BYU inappropriate music, and were calling my name to forsake classes and join them at Lake Powell for a few weeks (ha!). Rose was screaming phrases such as "screw you!" and "you don't know me" and "lets get this party started"...hahahahaha. No choice there. I hopped on board, we made it to Powell, where it was summer time but nobody was there because they thought it would be cold. We skied, wake boarded, tubed, rock climbed, discussed harry potter and politics, got thoroughly sandy and tan and hot, and loved every minute of it. What a great dream.

Pretty sure I'll be dreaming about Scott's bowl this summer.

Calling all Campbells: Make my dreams a reality-- and please wear the bikinis when you pull up to shock as many people as possible!



I have a few bones to pick with law enforcement officers who create a lot of work for me.

I legally own a handicap placard because of my deformed discs and spinal canals. BYU states that any student with said coveted object can park in A-lot (professor) parking spots because they don't provide enough handicap stalls. I have now received 3 BYU parking tickets for parking in A-lot spots "without valid permit." When I file an "appeal" they always drop the charge, but going in is annoying.

One beautiful day I was driving from Ellie's house to my own and got pulled over (going 3 mph above limit). The cop said he was going to "let me off" for speeding...(what?)...and gave me a ticket for "failure to change address within 10 days." I informed him that I am an AZ resident and therefore am not required to change my address because I am in UT temporarily. He got a little red and reacted by saying that I must go to the DMV and get a sticker with my new address stuck to my license. (WHAT?) So I went and the disgruntled employees laughed at me as there is no such thing. Not willing to pay the ridiculously high fine...I had to go to court. Where 13 year-old-druggies in small town UT were literally licking one anothers necks. It gets better. I spoke with the prosecuting attorney, and asked him if my "charge" was legitimate seeing as I can't very well put a UT address on an AZ license. All sweaty 350 lbs of him loomed over me and he said that he "had no responsibility whatsoever to know what my charge was" and that I should pay the $50 and leave so I wouldn't have to book a trial and hire a lawyer.....(WHAT?) I left the court and had my judge-father send a nicely worded letter.

Learn your own laws, please. Thanks.


I'm alive

I am alive after sinus surgery, and more importantly, my sister Ellie is having a baby girl in June! I am so completely elated. I think my heart will bust from too much love.

I did throw up blood as predicted. I also watched many movies, sat in the spa, ate very little food and enjoyed the arizona warmth--- I really forget how lovely it is in the winter. I had the good fortune to get a visit from my three bomb-shell cousins, it had been so long since I had seen Laura, what a pleasure she is!

I am reading the new Dan Brown book, which is exactly the same as his others. Creepy, ruthless, massive villain, Robert Langdon, who can never realize what is going on until he has an epiphany, and some love-interest with "a Mediterranean glow." Why am I reading it? Not sure.

Also, the bachelor (t.v. show) is totally ridiculous... as is the fact that my dog is my valentine.



Surgery Safari (12th installment)

I am having sinus surgery on Friday because of my tragic ailment, AFS. I have recently refused to tell people what that acronym stands for because I assume they judge me--the F may or may not stand for "fungal." I don't want people thinking I have yellow toe nails or nasty rashes. Good thing my 12 credits of classes are: Satire and Comedy, Print Culture, Bookbinding, Makeup (yes I get credit for that) and playing my cello so I can go to Scotland this summer. Happily, I will return to Arizona for 1.5 weeks, lounge around in soft clothes and bask in the warmth that comes from Buster, Dwight and Tracy Jordan. Ahhh the delights of surgery: a mom to take care of you, drugs so you can sleep for 16 hours each day, ice cream, sympathy, and throwing up blood. Wish me luck!


MLK day

(the end)

(the start)
Continuing on with the theme of my last post, I have a fresh story for you. I had a soccer game Friday night, went skiing on Saturday and was thus feeling a bit tired on Monday. I decided to stay at my grandma's on Sunday night, make Monday a relaxing day to take a hike with Emily, Linx and Rachel. We created a Provo bucket- list a few weeks ago, and decided to hit up the Spanish Fork hot springs on our day off. We left our apartment at 1pm, assuming we'd be back by 4 or 5. We drove up a canyon to find the road blocked off, and I assumed that was the trail head (online it said the hike was 2.5 miles from the trail head). So, we started walking through the snow up the road...and it took forever, but we didn't really care because it was beautiful and nice to be outside ect. Well, an hour and twenty minutes later, we arrive at some trailhead---the trail head we thought we had passed an hour earlier. Some girl and man walked awkwardly out of the same bathroom stall and informed us that the road was blocked off because the snow was treacherous and that the portion we had just trudged was 6 miles long (!). So, the "real" and anticipated hike was just beginning. We thought it wouldn't take long: FALSE. The trail meanders along a river and is the equivalent of a crazy ski traverse. Keep in mind we were wearing running shoes. We finally arrived at the hot springs at 4pm--they were beautiful. Nervous of the dark, the fact that we had no flashlights, cellphone reception or proper equipment, we only stayed in the springs for a few minutes. Just enough to get soaking wet, making it necessary to somehow change out of our swimsuits without flashing all of the drunk boys and slipping in the mud. Suffice it to say that it didn't work out so well. We left the springs with an 8.5 mile hike ahead of us. I had half a water bottle and a chewy granola bar for the entire trip. By the time we reached the blasted road, we were pretty exhausted. Lots of singing, moral support and hysterical laughter ensued. We finally made it back to our apartment by 730 pm after an accidental 17 mile hike. Another restful MLK day to remember.


My brain is turning to slosh

I have done some pretty dumb things lately:
1. During finals week, I left my car lights on so that the battery died and I needed to get a jump.
2. A few days later I tried to go skiing in Park City. I was supposed to meet my friend up there but my phone died, so I logically pulled over to use a pay phone to call her and figure out meeting place/ time ect. When I got to the phone I realized I had no money, and had to collect call her mother to get her number. I did this with success, only to get said friend's voice mail. I returned to my car, thinking I would have a lonely ski day---and saw my keys sitting on the drivers seat with the doors locked. I was forced to wait without a jacket for two hours until someone came and got my keys out. I had about an hour to ski after all of that. Miraculously, my friend found me and we skied to the parking lot together.
3. After one trip to the post office during grad applications week, I returned after I failed to realize I had to mail my writing sample to Colorado and had to overnight it. The cost was a whopping $27. I was going to Boulder the following day to see my sister, and could have easily hand delivered it.
4. I left my beloved cello in the car overnight this week. (ps I freaked out last semester while on tour because I would NOT leave my cello under the bus in the cold)
5. Same night, I also left the car lights on. Linx had to jump me, again. (it was my birthday too)
6. Here is the ultimate: I did fairly well on the GRE in Dec. but decided to retake it to see if I could up my anty a bit for grad school. I arrived yesterday at the testing center, was totally prepped and ready to own. The girl working informed me that my test was actually scheduled for Friday, not Saturday, and that I had missed it. What? Yes! I missed my appointment, they wouldn't let me retake the exam that day, nor would they offer me a refund. The chick also said she had seen my name on the list the day before but didn't call me. Thank you, testing center lady for helping us all succeed. $150 bucks for nothing.
7. Then, last night, I missed one of my good friend's wedding receptions. I completely spaced it.
*If I no longer remember your name in a few days, don't hate me, it is probably just dementia setting in.