Just so you all know...

Mike and I are officially dating now. It happened Thursday. And since I am having a girls' night tonight with my friend who recently lost a boyfriend, he is helplessly lonely tonight. It's super cute how...cute he is :)

Did I ever mention what a huge crush I have on my boyfriend? :P

Piece: Part IV

Okay, I succumb. :) Here's the next part.

“You don’t even know what love is,” Matthew growled. “You just wanted your pretty little girl to come whenever you called. You just wanted my sister for a booty call. You don’t even deserve to say her name.” As he spoke, the young man hung his head, ran his hand through his tangled hair.

“Listen, Matthew, I don’t care how much you hate me.” As his voice got louder, he began to stand up straight, to look Matthew square in the eyes. “I don’t care that you never approved, or that you think so little of me as to expect me to want something like that from Elisabeth. All I care about is that I loved her. I still love her. And I came here to say goodbye to her, the same as you have.” Matthew reached in to quell his anger, but knew that he couldn’t restrain himself. He took a menacing step forward, and opened his mouth to threaten the man, when he heard a gunshot.

It had come from the parking lot. He stared blankly, taking a few steps in that direction, then remembered what had been happening. He turned back to the headstone, but the dark young man was gone. Trying to push it out of his mind, he turned and ran to the parking lot.

He ran straight to Ethan’s car, where the man sat in his front seat breathing heavily, his chest oozing with blood.

Sometimes the air conditioner is broken...

Yeah, I had to work all day today, and the air conditioner in the MTC Cafeteria is broken. It was so gross. I was on the Wall of Salad, where it was a raspberry spinach salad with raspberry vinaigrette dressing and raspberry glazed rolls on the side. I looked like I had gotten out of a war zone. And I was sweating like crazy, because it was a good 95 degrees out here today, and I was stuck in a room with 1200 missionaries, give or take.
This is one of the few reasons why I am glad that I work breakfast :)

Okay, seriously, guys.

I was searching for my friend's blog to read, and then out of curiosity, I searched my blog to see if I could find it on Google. With "majoring in genius", I searched through the first 400 results. Nothing. You know what that means? ...I'm not sure. I guess it means Google hates me.
Or not enough people read my blog. Que triste.

ps-I will leave you all on your own to read the story from now on, and only post new sections after I have received feedback on the last one. That is how it will work.

Congratulations, Nathan!

Our dear friend Nathan Rodriguez has recently been called to the Calgary, Alberta, Canada Spanish-Speaking mission. He enters the MTC September 3, 2008.
We won't mention that he had never heard of that place before and had to go look it up. . .
and then proceeded to research the demographics, political policies and public opinion, the climate, the population, etc. . .
We love you Nathan!

Piece: Part III

* AUTHOR'S NOTE* Yay! Comments! So I hope you all read the very first part, under my "Yes, I really began to drool" post, or a lot of the drama is not going to make sense. I'm only going to post a little bit of it at a time, so I have sufficient time to keep writing it. I already have the first chapter done.
...and I'm glad you guys are hooked. I may just throw a few curve balls ;)
*ON WITH THE STORY!*

After the service, when Elisabeth had been placed in the ground, Matthew stood silently in the old cemetery, staring at Elisabeth’s newly-made grave. A strong hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him out of his stupor. He turned to greet another mourner, and looked into the eyes of his best friend, Ethan. He could feel his heart pull just a little bit tighter as he saw the look on Ethan’s face. Such sadness filled his features as could not be borne by anyone else. There were enough words in his eyes to tell the whole story, but he spoke it anyways.

“You know, Matt, I never told you,” he began in a broken whisper. “I told her, and she tried to let me down gently, but you never get over a girl like your sister.” He covered his face with his hand and cried. Memories of their time in elementary school, with Elisabeth tagging after them flashed through Matthew’s mind. No one had ever said anything, but he had known all the same. He tried to say something hopeful, comforting, but Ethan just waved his hand, turned, and began to stagger back to his car. Matthew turned back to the grave.

She had been laid next to her father’s three-year-old headstone, which stood in turn next to the small, mossy stone that stood for their mother. His eyes lingered on this small stone, engraved simply with the words “Leanne Hansen Carter, 1962-1987.” He had been barely two years old when she had died, from complications in the birth of his sister. Their father, Steve Carter, had been a rough outdoorsman, who knew nothing about raising children alone, but he had managed. Between his clear-headed son and a daughter with bright red hair who kept him on his toes, he had managed. Matthew still hadn’t forgiven him for the cancer that had taken him away from them. He still remembered how Elisabeth had picked up her high school diploma from the school, preferring a funeral procession to a triumphal one.

Remembering, he fell back into his sobs. He knew that faith was supposed to make him feel better, understanding where they were going, but he couldn’t help it. All he knew was that he was alone in mortality. Elisabeth had been free-willed, wild, and even a bit crazy, but she had always kept him going. Her hope and cheerfulness had always had them going strong, even after their father died. Now he didn’t know what he was going to do.

He heard a crackling behind him. He spun and found himself face to face with the figure from the church. Expecting to find anger, he saw that the young man’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot. His dark suit was mud-spattered, and his shirt and dark hair were mussed beyond repair. He kept his hands in his pockets, his face dark as he stared at Matthew with a look of obvious hatred. Matthew returned the stare.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. His eyebrows knit together and his fists tightened, his knuckles white.

“What do you think I’m doing?” the young man muttered. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I loved her.”

Piece: Part II

Matthew straightened his dark black jacket as he stood up, walked to the lectern. The stand in the old church building was covered in white roses and lilies, purple lilacs, and tiny Queen Anne’s Lace, her favorite flowers. In front of the podium was a silver-framed photo of a young girl, her curled hair swept up behind her, her green eyes glistening.

He cleared his throat as he reached the microphone. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my sister Elisabeth was the sweetest, most kind-hearted, and the smartest girl I’ve ever known. She was brave yet calm, strong yet gentle, and wise yet humble. My whole life I’ve tried to be just like her, to be able to stand next to her proudly for my father, but she was always just one step ahead.” His choking began to become outright sobs. Several very loud sniffles were heard from the few front rows, where all the doting aunts and grandmothers of the neighborhood took up residence. Their netted hats shook with their quiet crying.

Matthew stood there for a few minutes in silence, his head bowed low. I can’t do this, he thought bitterly. How could they ask me to do this, when he’s sitting right here? He could feel all the impatient neighbors’ eyes looking at him expectantly, swallowed his tears, and stood up straight. He stared directly at the back of the chapel, avoiding anyone’s gaze as he finished the speech he had previously memorized.

“All I know is that she’d better be in paradise, ‘cause if she’s not, then I’m going to Hell too.” A few of the more prudish old women gasped slightly, then resumed crying as Matthew stepped down. He stood back, staring out into the audience for a few seconds, just to get his balance. His eyes finally focused as he noticed a dark figure on the last row get up and leave. His eyebrows narrowed, but he walked calmly to his seat in the front row and sat down, his fists clenched, slow tears leaking down his cheeks.

Yes, I really began to drool.

Guys, the official Twilight Movie Trailer has been released. All of you should see it. It is at http://screenrant.com/archives/first-twilight-trailer-feature-1622.html
Oh yeah.

In other news, I think I may give y'all the first part of my story so far. In fact, I'm about to email y'all and let you know about it, and ask you to read it. I want feedback from people who aren't psycho English Majors. Real, actual, honest-to-goodness normal people who aren't grammar Nazis or overly concerned with the style of my character development (No offense to Nicole or any of the Inquisition that happen across this). Holy mackerel.

Kay...well....here it is. Just the prologue, mind you.

There was an accident on the freeway. As she noticed the taillights crowded in front of her, she finally snapped out of her daze to ease on her brakes. The car lurched to a stop in the third lane, rain pouring down her windshield. In a desperate attempt to see, she turned her wipers up to full power for a few seconds, then gave up. Realizing the inevitability of it, she sat back in her seat, leaned her head back on the headrest, and closed her eyes.

As she sat in the cold car, she forgot why she had even come on this trip. She hadn’t even come up with what she was going to tell her boss on the phone in the morning. Names, faces, memories began rushing through her mind, filling her with a flood of emotion, and a single tear ran slowly down her face. Ethan… Matthew… Maya… David. Their names meant so much, and yet so little. What would they think of her now?

She opened her eyes and looked around her, through the rain-soaked windows. The other cars and drivers were a giant blur, their faces, colors, lights running in a steady pattern but never falling away. She looked to her left, and saw in the car next to her a middle-aged, balding man, looking at her with a look of immense tiredness in his face. He looked behind her and suddenly his eyes grew wide. Her head snapped around and she faced two enormous headlights coming directly at her, not stopping…

So I'm really bored

I'm officially creating a contest. It's called:
"Create a list of really crazy things that can be done in Provo with at least two people, preferably three or more"

I'm seriously bored, guys. I can sports it out, but what do you do at night? Somebody think of something that's not movies.
This is now a contest. Whoever wins gets...well, probably my serious gratitude and devotion, and maybe a hug upon my return to wherever y'all are.
Yesterday, I slept for six hours after my breakfast shift at the MTC simply because I was so bored. I have a couple of friends whose apartments have officially become mine because they said I could crash when bored, but I need things to do. Seriously.
Now brainstorm, people. And give me some lists.

Today I watched the Sandlot

at a baseball stadium, wrapped in a blanket. It was beautiful.
Before that I wrote. And wrote. And erased it all. And wrote some more.
Before that I woke up at 3:00 in the afternoon after taking a six hour nap because I worked at 6:30 this morning and had been up for eighteen hours straight the day before. Also beautiful.
That is my Saturday. Tomorrow is Sunday at 12:00 pm with my brand new ward and I really love my hair.
It's going to be a good day.

So I've written something...

And I sent it to my friend Nicole. I'm terrified. I'm going to put just the very first part on here, to tempt you all, see what you think. But not yet. I want her to look at it first.
Thank you all.