The Craziness of the Day

Yknow as I think on it, I should be going bonkers. Lemme give you my list for a second, so with school, I'm taking four classes, which, while I don't necessarily have midterms or final tests, I still have a ton of papers that I need to write. In addition I'm a student senate rep for the Creative Writing Club, and in the student senate I've been voted in to be the Ethics Board Chairperson, and as such should be organizing the group to meet, but no one is responding to my emails. I'm working round 20 hours a week, barring of course when I have conferences and things for student senate like this weekend. At church, I'm the branch clerk, so my Sundays start early and late, and I'm enrolled in institute. This is aside from the various activities like FHE, firesides, and conferences that happen throughout the months. All the while trying to impress a gal that lives an hour away from me. I should be going mad! I should be hearing voices, shouldn't I? Five hours of sleep, hardly eat any food because the food pyramid hates me, I should be wearing a white jacket of sorts! But I'm not. You know what sustains me? Hope. Hope that everything works out right. Hope in the gospel, that it will bear me up. Hope in the atonement, that Christ will help me in all my afflictions. Hope that I can find strength in my peers at church. And I can say all that because I know it's true, it's not really something you ought to say in "spirit voice" or with choked back tears. It's all real. The gospel is true, therefore, it will help me, therefore, when I should be tearing my hair out, I sit here in front of this mountain of stuff I gotta do, I can shrug and say,"Meh. I can do this." I think that's part of what it means when it says With God All Things Are Possible. Another story for you. So my good friend Rick and his fiance got married last spring, and they wanted to have a wedding singer for their reception. They had everything in place, including the singer, but at the last minute the guy cancelled, and they were scrambling for someone to replace him. While they were at a karaoke club (they don't drink but they like singing) they heard this guy sing a beautiful Taylor Swift song, which happened to be their song. So they asked the guy after he was done if he'd be willing to do it, they could pay him and everything, and he said of course, he had nothing going on Saturday since he was a court judge. He asked if they needed to be married as well, and they said they had that handled, just if he could sing. Well this guy wasn't a member of the church, so he shows up to this wedding reception smashed. Completely hammered. And he gets up there, shouts some obscenities, and starts scratching nails on a board, I mean his voice was awful, it was the worst singing I had heard. So the moral of the story is, Don't Book a Judge by His Cover. OPERATOR OUT.

Far too long

Forgive my hiatus, but I figured I'd jump back in and enter something, eh? I find it ironic of a sort that I'm posting following another church dance, but that's the way of it. And lots has changed. Every now and then my mono rears it's ugly head, so I get laid low, but otherwise I'm in good sorts. With my gall bladder getting cut out (they wouldn't give it back the hosers!) I can't eat many sorts of foods without getting sick, so I'm dropping weight like a bad habit. And I used to complain about being busy, being involved, and shoot I used it as an excuse, but never before have I been so tied up. I even laugh at the idea that I balked at spending money for gas to visit a gal that lives a ways from me, because almost every weekend I find myself on the way to Glenview. ADVENTURE!!!! I've since taken over Chicago, ran in the rain twice, once right on the lake shore, killed ninjas, flown in an x-wing, been paralyzed from poison darts repeatedly, saved Skyrim, killed the Lord Ruler, found an illustrator, submitted for writers competitions and danced. That's right I actually danced at this last one. I dressed up as Dr. Crane from Batman Begins and no one got it, prolly because I'm still fat, and everyone guessed I was Mitt Romney. To which I replied, no I'm actually Obama. I'm stoked for Movember and NaNoWriMo next month. Be sure to check my facewebs for updates on both, I'll be trying to keep regular on that. Before I close this post, lemme tell you a story from my highschool days. At the time, my cousin Billy and I were real close, and my junior year we did a double date, where he and I took gals to each other's school dances, since he went to a different highschool. He was having a hard time finding a gal though, so we're walking about at the grocers, and he sees Jean Schmidt who goes to my school. She was kinda cute I guess, but she had a crush on me since Junior High and I found her annoying. Billy can't stop staring. She comes over and talks a bit, I try to be offhandish, Billy is being dumb, and afterwards he goes nuts. "You gotta get her to go with me!" I laughed and told the idiot to ask her himself, and think nothing more of it. A week later Billy is pounding on my door yelling at me because she turned him down. Apparently, all week Billy had been trying to talk to her and finally she said she wouldn't go with him because she's pregnant with my child! So he comes over and chews me out, and finally I go, "Billy, Jean is not my lover! She's just a girl that claims that I'm the one, but the kid is not my son!" OPERATOR OUT