Weekly Update:

Number of midterms next week: 5 (deathly)
Number of trips to the gym this week: 0 (very bad)
Number of chocolate bars this week: 3 (improvement)
Number of TV shows watched: 2
Number of nights in the library: 0 (unproductive)
Number of positive thoughts: 15
Number of stressed out, negative thoughts: 294
Number of phone calls to my mom: 2 (better)
Number of hours of sleep: 39 (excellent)

To my best friend:

Yesterday, I dropped off my best friend at the Missionary Training Center in Provo. For the next eighteen months, we will be completely separated. No contact, no snuggle seshes, no late night phone calls, no ridiculous text messages that make me laugh uncontrollably during class, no facebook spamming. There only thing we have is hand written letters. I guess I shouldn't complain because 1) she's serving the Lord, and 2) boys serve for twenty-four months. And yet, as I watched her walk into that building, I felt like a piece of me went in with her.

Emily, you have been my best friend for ten years. Okay, minus that time in ninth grade when we didn't speak for two months. I don't even remember what the fight was about, but it ended with us calling each other and laughing for hours about the ridiculousness of it all. Sure we have other friends, other really close and amazing friends, but there is no one quite like you in my life. You are the only one who really understands me, the only one who I can be completely my self around--or the craziest, weirdest version of myself--the only one who I don't care if I cry in front of, the only person who makes me laugh so hard I want to cry or pee, or both, the only one who I can watch BBC dramas with for hours and hours, the only one who I talk about boys, love, sex and not worry about judgment. We have so many great memories from the past years and there are so many more memories in store for us in the future. Here's to seventy more years of jaw-droppingly magnificent friendship.

You are going to be the best missionary this world has ever known. It's hard for me to be apart from you, but I know that you are having the time of your life. You have a gift for communication and an overwhelming love for people. People are naturally drawn to you. That gift--the gift of empathy and love and passion for people--will be one of your greatest assets on your mission. Your decision to serve a mission is going to help so many people. All I can say is you're going to do great things and even though I'm going to miss you every day, I am so proud of you. God speed, dearie!

Zsa Zsa Gabor:

Okay, you're beautiful. Can I be you?

Ten Things I will never understand:

1. Why some people don't like chocolate.
2. Why people my age (and older) love Pixar movies so much.
3. Why my extended family assumes I must have the same wacky, conservative views as my dad.
5. Why cats are so cute.
6. Why people ask questions like, "How are you?" without caring about the response.
7. Why people have such a hard time with contractions versus possession.
8. Why my mom let me quit dance.
9. Why I don't have more money.
10. Why people get married so quickly.

September 11, 2001

As a child, there was a distinct moment when I realized that the world was not all rainbows, barbies, and hair bows. The moment when I realized there are bad people in the world who do terrible things. There is no monster in bathtub drain or sharks under the bed, but there are real people who seek to hurt people. And every generation shares a day of tragedy when that epiphany is realized or relived. For our grandparents, it was December 7th, 1941; for our parents is was November 22nd, 1963; and for us it was September 11, 2001. I know this post is a few days late, but I felt like I needed to add to the conversation. To me, the memory of 9/11 doesn't entice me to hatred or fear. It was a terrible day, but once the dust settled, we chose to crawl from the rubble, stand tall, and be strong. The country was a country of hope after the attacks, and that entices me to be proud.

There is power in femininity:

"Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it’s a song, a stranger, a mountain, a rain drop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep, feel it all – look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love."

- Zooey Deschanel

Jackie Kennedy:

Today's post is about one of my favorite women: Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. This woman was gorgeous, brilliant, strong, elegant, independent, and fashionable. I would love to be like her. And if that means becoming first lady someday, well then yes please. She was one of the greatest first ladies this country has ever had. Jackie was admired by visiting diplomats, including good ol' Khrushchev, revered for her restoration of the White House, and adored by the American public. Jackie may have been beautiful and the most important woman in the United States, but she was also real. She was well loved by us because her life was so imperfect. When she experienced a miscarriage, we wept with her; when her husband's infidelities became known, we suffered with her; when her husband was assassinated, we mourned with her; and when she married Aristotle Onassis, we rejoiced with her. If I grow up to be half the woman, mother, and wife she was, I will feel like I've made it.

Je suis une enfant:

Nothing like some Carla Bruni to get you through the school day. Bon jeudi, tout le monde!

Another year:

On Monday, I begin my senior year at Brigham Young University. It's weird; I feel like I've just arrived. However, I'm excited. There have been a lot of changes this past year and I cannot wait for this new start. It's another year, but it's also a new complex, new friends, a new job, new goals, new roommates, new everything. I couldn't be happier with the way things are in my life. I still have worries and trials, but I also have a great family, great friends, and great faith in the Lord. There are a lot of things in store for this year: good and bad. All I can say is BRING IT ON.

Panc news:

Oh look at my ultrasound! If you look closely you can see a head and some toes! Okay, just kidding guys, this is an ultrasound of my pancreas and my cute little tumor that I have recently named Georg.  On Thursday, I had my fourth, and definitely not final, endoscopic ultrasound and the pictures show that there has been no change in the last six months. This means that I can delay my surgery for awhile longer; hopefully, until next summer or after I graduate. We'll see. The tumor is the paisley-shaped dark colored shape with the x's around it in the top right quadrant. D'awhh Georg, what a pain you are to me!

Anyways, that's the panc update. Thank you all for your constant prayers and concern. It means a lot.

Also, I am apparently the most polite sedated person ever. According to my mother, as I was coming out of anesthesia, I shook the hand of and thanked the anesthesiologist three times and professed my undying gratitude to my gastroenterologist. I mean, I am normally a nice person, but I guess drugs make me unable to hold back my oozing kindness.

Fittie of the Week:

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: he just keeps getting better and better. As a girl, I fell in love with him as the shy and sweet Cameron in 10 Things I Hate About You and as the adorable alien in Third Rock from the Sun. A few years ago I fell in love again when he played the heart-broken, disheveled Tom in (500) Days of Summer. And he did it again as Robin in Batman: The Dark Knight Rises.

Whether he is playing a hero, a troubled drug addict, or a cancer patient, Joseph Gordon-Levitt makes you fall in love. You can't help it. He's the cute boy next door. The cute boy next door who needs a friend. You watch Joseph Gordon-Levitt on screen and you feel like you know him. Who didn't want to punch Zooey Deschanel in the face as she breaks up with him in that shockingly fluorescent diner? You're seriously talking about pancakes right now? I was bitter at her for months thinking about what a jerk she was to use impressionable, beautiful Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a place-holder until someone "better" came along. I swear I boycotted She & Him music for at least six months. Joseph Gordon-Levitt: he may not be chiseled Tom Hardy or hotter than hot Christian Bale, but that's what makes him perfect.

Sigh No More, Ladies:

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in sea, and one on shore,

To one thing constant never.

Then sigh not so,

But let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no more,

Of dumps so dull and heavy;

The fraud of men was ever so,

Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so,

But let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey nonny, nonny.

- William Shakespeare, from Much Ado About Nothing

Short girl problems:

At the airport today:

TSA Agent: "Are you an adult?"

Me: "Umm, yeah. I'm 20. I'm just really short."

TSA Agent: "Oh, you could totally pass for 12 if you wanted to."

Me: "Uhhh... thanks?"

A Man's Man:

Mad Men is my new obsession. I can't get enough of their greased back hair, tailored suits, chain smoking, debonair charm, and blatant chauvinism. Don Draper is a god. I mean, if it weren't for his explicit infidelity, I would marry him. That charisma and perpetual five o'clock shadowed face, mmm. One look at him and you turn to putty. One look and he can make anyone: man, woman, dog, ferret, do anything he wants them to do. It is so attractive. I may be a feminist, but I  have to admit that I am also a sucker for the traditional, in-charge manly man. A man who has so much confidence that it almost borders on arrogance. A man who can control a room. A man who knows how to take initiative. A man like Donald Draper.

This show has caused me to decide that I want a man who wears a suit to work, who can fix things around the house, who is socially competent, whose work requires my attendance at occasional black or white tie cocktail parties, who is an impeccable father, who makes bank at his posh, Manhatten job, and who smokes two to three packs a day and still looks hot doing it.

Fittie of the week: (From la Belle)

This is a post from my dear friend and fellow blogger, Belle Robinson. This man has been a hot topic of conversation between us and it was only a matter of time before one of us posted about him. Unfortunately blogspot doesn't have a "reblog" function, so I'm relying on copy and paste. All credit goes to her:

The Olympics are well and on their way and fitties from all across the world are on our television setts for hours each day. From gymnastics to swimming, diving to mens volleyball we have been watching fine crafted abs and ripped biceps intently, but one fittie in particular caught our eye!

The fittie of the week goes to Ryan Lochte!

Ryan Lochte, aged 27, has had hearts racing everywhere over the past couple days. He won gold in 400m- individual medley and has put up a good fight in his other races too. The competition is rough but Lochte seems to be dealing with it pretty well as helped the U.S. team when silver in mens 4x200m freestyle relay. We want to see this baby blue eyed man win more golds, if only just to see his amazing smile. His boy charm has us captured and wanting more. Lochte is driven and focused on the Olympics and winning those shiny medals for the U.S. This means good news for all the ladies out there, Lochte is single. His demanding training schedule leaves little time for a girlfriend but maybe if you play your cards right you can take a swim with him.  If swimming wasn’t your favourite event before it just might be your favourite now thanks to Ryan Lochte.

Mmmm thanks Belle. And I would just like to add that I would join him in swim practice any day. Especially if he practices in speedos or those tiny and tight drag suits. In fact, I may just start professionally swimming again just so he can be impressed by my perfect breaststroke. Oh and, here's another photo. I couldn't help myself.

If you would like to read more of Belle's blog, especially her fitties of the week, her url is: http://izsie11.wordpress.com/.

Thank you for reading and admiring such manly beauty, enjoy the rest of the Olympics! Make sure to check out diver Tom Daley, he's another one of our favorite fitties.

Ode to Isabelle:

Four months ago, we were strangers.
You thought I was cool, I thought you were cooler.
We bonded over Jude Law, Britcoms, the Kooks, and words like knickers.
In a day, we were as close as Fry and Laurie, as French and Saunder.

We laugh, we tease, and we vex MTed with our humour,
We know where Malta is, we can beat Nephi at the capital game,
We eat chocolate, and when men are playing basketball, we gander.
We're so close it's a wonder we don't share a surname.

Did you know each other from before?
No, we say, neglecting to mention our friendship in heaven
When we made a promise that we wouldn't ignore.
You are my main squeeze, my favorite roommate, my woman from London.

Ray LaMontagne: Empty

Oh my, why is this song so pretty?

Weekly/Monthly Thoughts:

It has been a month and a few days since my last post. I guess this is a post to update you, my lovely readers, on my life. This is mainly for those of you who wish that I called you more often. I am seriously a failure at communication. Well, good thing I'm taking Communications 101 this term! Maybe my returning phone calls skills will improve.

1. School is busy! I love it and I hate it. I'm taking polysci 200 this term. For those of you who know polysci 200, know what I'm talking about. It's an advanced writing course, which means ten papers in seven weeks. If I'm dead before August, you'll know why.

2. I work for a non-profit called H2O International! My friend Logan founded it and I help run it. It's a lot of work and no pay, but such a good cause. I couldn't help getting involved. We sell water and do other fundraising locally and all our proceeds go to buying water filtration systems and then installing them in villages in poor countries. We're going to Guatemala and Nicaragua next spring. We already have two villages picked out. Obviously, the company is more complicated than this, but that's the basic overview. However, some personal things I need to do before next spring: 1) find money to buy plane tickets and 2) re-learn Spanish! Any wealthy philanthropists want to sponsor me? Okay, that would be great.

3. I feel old and young at the same time. I feel like life is flying by and one day I'm going to look in the mirror and be fifty and not know what happened in between. Although, at the same time, I feel so young and inexperienced. There is so much I don't know, so much I want to do with my life, so much I want to be. I feel like a baby in the world of possibilities.

4. Why is everyone trying to set me up with their friends? Honestly, it's nice and all, but am I not capable of meeting people on my own? Okay, I'm probably not. I suck at dating. However, I don't really like blind dates.

5. Can I just say that this is my favorite picture from this past week? The Dalai Lama with Prince Charles on his visit to England. What an inspiration. The Dalai Lama is one of the best people alive in the world today. I know Heavenly Father has a spot saved for him in the Celestial Kingdom.

Why Jane Austen will always be relevant:

In a way 40% of you, BYU men, are Mr. Collinses. You have all been told by a figure of authority  (Mom, Mission President, Apostle, Prophet, Bishop) that it's time to go out and find a nice wife. I mean, you're an RM now, this is the next step in your life. It's time. And so you go out and try to do just that. Forget about reciprocated love and mutual attraction, as long as she's cute and sweet and looks like she would make a good housewife and mother, then she's the one. Also, boys, it's best to pick someone from your BYU ward or classes. All women at BYU are waiting for marriage, it's your melchizedek duty to help a sister out by blessing her with you, the worthy priesthood holder. Oh, and if girl A ends up being taken, then move on to plan B. Pursue plan B persistently. Invite yourself along to her activities. Seek her out at dances and ask her to dance every slow song. Girls appreciate that. However, if plan B is uninterested, even after you kindly explain to her that it's a commandment from God to get married and she may not have another chance, then I hope there is a less pretty, less interesting, but more desperate friend/roommate named Charlotte Lucas for you. Also, please ignore all Marys that you encounter. You know, the girls that are actually interested in you, like the same things you like, enjoys your obnoxious, planned-out jokes in class, thinks your freckles are cute, and stares longingly at you as you intercept plan B on the stairwell.

This rant is for you, the Mr. Collins in my French class. Remember when you sat next to me, mumbled things incomprehensibly under your breath during class, chatted with me about boring things, probably mission stories, after class, and laughed at everything I said? Well, after a week of polite, simple responses and disinterested looks, you finally got the message and moved on to pretty girl number two. You sit next to her now. She's much nicer to you; she's a much nicer person. Then today, after leaning in and making "witty" comments to her all through lecture, she strategically announced to her friend across the room that her boyfriend is in town for the week. Smooth, Elizabeth, smooth. I would have felt sorry for you, with your crest-fallen face, if it wasn't for Mary sitting on the other side of you! Open your eyes, she likes you! She thinks you're funny and cute and smart and finds your terrible French accent endearing. And she's cute, too! Maybe not the skinny, blonde Elizabeth to your left. But let's face it, skinny, blonde Elizabeth is out of your league. Mary and you would be great together. So great together with your matching freckles. Please, Mr. Collins, why don't you like the girls that like you?

Time to make Life-Changing Decisions:

This past week I re-planned my life, for like the eighteen thousandth time. I filled in some details and changed my college plan. Here's the update:

1. I added a Comms minor. Which means I basically added another year at BYU. Graduation April 2014, anyone? I guess that's when I should graduate anyways.
2. I decided that once I complete all the French courses I need, I'm going to start taking Russian.
3. Going to do an awesome internship, possibly two? Washington Seminar? CFR?
4. Going to apply to an APSIA grad school and get a masters in international affairs. Hopefully, I can get into Columbia. That's my dreammmmm.
5. Going to cut off all my hair and dye it red.

Alright, jk on the last one. Although, I need to do something crazy and drastic to my appearance. Stat. I'm so bored. Piercings? Yes. I think yes.

Thank you, Ida Maria, thank you:

Several times every the day, I feel like belting this song as loud as possible. Not for any particular reason, but because it is so beautiful. (Although, I really wish there was a particular reason.) And then I remember where I am and decide that bursting off-key into this song on the 5th floor of the BYU library is probably not kosher.

Weekly Thoughts:

1. I leave for Utah in three days!
2. It's spring cleaning time for my iTunes. So tortuous, so tedious, so time consuming, but so needed.
3. As I leave home once again, my only regret is leaving behind Missy. iloveyoukitteh.
4. Can't wait to see good friends and have things to do again.
5. By this time next year, I will be finishing up four straight terms/semesters of school. I will probably be dying.
6. Spring is definitely mating season. Erryone and their roommate is getting engaged and married. Happy for them and glad it's not me.
7. I have a lot of crap to pack.

The Mower to the Glow-Worms:

Ye living lamps, by whose dear light
The nightingale does sit so late,
And studying all the summer night,
Her matchless songs does meditate;

Ye country comets, that portend
No war nor prince’s funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the grass’s fall;

Ye glow-worms, whose officious flame
To wand’ring mowers shows the way,
That in the night have lost their aim,
And after foolish fires do stray;

Your courteous lights in vain you waste,
Since Juliana here is come,
For she my mind hath so displac’d
That I shall never find my home.

- Andrew Marvell

First Aid Kit - Emmylou

He is Risen:

Happy Easter! The most important and yet the least celebrated religious holiday of the year.

My life in five years:

Age: 25
Location: Upper West Side or Greenwich Village, Manhattan, New York City.
Marital Status: Single and dating.
Place of Employment: Church Office of Foreign and International Affairs, CIA, the United Nations, CFR, or some equally important job that involves being cool and working in IR.
Pets: Cat with human name, like George or Martin.
Friends: All smart, successful, and interesting.
Apartment: Small, but nice with roommates.
Car: none!
Fitness level: Excellent, from walking everywhere and jogging in Central Park.
Fashion level: 10
Good habits: Going to lots of shows, art exhibits, museums, concerts, plays, etc.
Bad habits: Buying too many designer shoes that I can't afford.
Current goal: Saving for another trip to Europe.

Panc Update:

For those who would like to know, my pesky little pancreatic tumor is still alive and thriving. The tumor is benign and very small right now, but will inevitably turn malignant. One day, probably in my 30s or 40s, it will either spread to my other organs, most likely the liver, and cause problems; or it will grow to a massive size, cause excruciating pain, and cut off the pancreatic bile duct; or turn cancerous. Bottom line, it needs to come out soon before any of this can happen. So, I need surgery. Wait... what? Isn't that why I came home in the first place? Didn't I already decide not to put it off, but be safe and have the surgery as soon as possible? Didn't I come home to get it out and never have to worry about it ever again? Ha. I guess I could give up more school and plan the surgery for this spring... except that there is no way in Hades my sanity could survive another 3-4 months at home. Luckily, the tumor isn't likely to make any progress for awhile. My doctor is comfortable with waiting and watching it for another year to a year and a half, but no more. Therefore, the agreed plan of is:

1) In six months, this August, have another EUS (in other words, take a looksie at the ol' tumor.) If it has grown or changed significantly, plan the surgery for the fall. (please, no)
2) If it hasn't grown or changed significantly (more likely outcome), in another six months, February/April 2013, have another EUS. If tumor is still there and looking menacing, then plan the surgery for later that year, AFTER I GRADUATE.
3) If anything changes in the meantime, like increased pain or symptoms, I need to declare a state of emergency and go to the hospital.

To conclude,

The bad news is:
1) I still need surgery.
2) I gave up a semester at school for nothing. I basically just wasted 3 months at home when I could have been having the stupid tumor scooped out.
3) Everything could still change.
4) I get to have at least two more EUSes! It's not like they make my panc hurt for two days or anything.
5) I may not be able to ever go on a mission.

The good news is:
1) Uhhh... I get to wait until after I graduate to have surgery?
2) At least I know about the tumor and I won't die from pancreatic cancer at 45.

Weekly Thoughts:

1. Winter coats are going on sale now. Must.not.buy.every.single.one.
2. Of Montreal concert on Saturday was so great. They have a flute in their band. Why did I give up playing the flute? Better question: why did I never try? It seems so so cool now.
3. Either Seattle loves me or BYU hates me.
4. Purchased a coat for $20, originally $110. Win.
5. I know what my post graduation plans are now. Or at least one aspect to the plan.
6. I think I have given up every artistic thing I have ever done.
7. Three weeks!

Apparently I'm a Man-Eater:

Me: Hey, can I go to this concert with a guy I met in Seattle on Saturday?
Mom: Yes, that's fine as long as you're nice.
Me: What? I am always nice to you!
Mom: Not me. Be nice to the boy.
Me: Are you saying I'm not nice to boys?
Dad: We know you're not nice to boys. Why do you think you they don't ask you out?
Mom: Well... we are a little concerned.

Oh, great. I'm a meanie.

Mid-Winter of Discontent Evaluation:

Number of weeks until departing for Utah: 5 (yes!)
Number of pounds gained while home: 4 (eh... could be worse)
Number of thoughts of self-pity while being home: 15,000 (very bad)
Number of times felt lucky to escape Provo and therefore learn truth about certain friends and have opportunity to reevaluate my life: 233 (good!)
Number of days since last shaving my legs: 16 (excellent)
Number of books read: 12 (not great)
Number of TV shows watched: Too gross to admit. (sickening)
Number of positive thoughts: -63 (bad!)
Number of terms/semesters to go at BYU: 4 (excited)
Number of things to look forward to: 8,000,000 (very excited)

Ben Whishaw:

How can one man have such great hair?

It must be fake.

Things I Am Thinking About Today:

1. My first impressions of people are usually right. Sometimes down the road, I deceive myself and convince my excellent judge of character that, for better or for worse, I'm wrong. But then the truth comes out and I learn that they are just who I first made them out to be.
2. You're a douche. 3. Emily Whittle is the love of my life.
4. I am probably going to die alone.
5. I'm really not very funny. Only I am. To myself.
6. I don't believe much in second chances. Except that I give them.
7. Only six more weeks of hell being at home!
8. Kroll.

When the WB Still Existed:

I've been re-watching Smallville season one the past week. I know, I'm awesome. You don't have to remind me. It was so innocent and whimsical in the beginning! I had forgotten. I don't know where it ended up because I stopped watching around season three, although it looked like it got pretty dark and weird. But, oh! Smallville in the beginning. So cute.

Now all I want to do is pretend I'm nine years-old again and watch Gilmore Girls too! Ahhh, early 2000s teen dramas. Nothing is better than Dido and Three Doors Down soundtracks, flare jeans with gaudy belts, and minimal use of cell phones. Oh and then two years later, The OC comes on the scene. Here's to living in the past.

On Getting a Life:

It's decided. I'm running away and living in sin with this man.

I'm thinking the Isle of Man would be a good place to cohabit. After, my love is finished filming in New Zealand, of course. Maybe I'll meet Alan Davies there! Dream come trueeeee!

What's 21 years and 14 inches between us when it's true love?

T Minus 7.5 Weeks!

That's right people, only a couple months to go of my personal "winter of discontent." Okay, it's really not as bad as that, lots of you would be jealous of my current state of leisure and lethargy. However, that doesn't mean that I am not counting down the days until my return to the zoo. Idleness makes me quite restless and "nutty," as my mom says. I cannot stand not having things to do, places to be, people to see, schedules to keep! I cannot wait to hit the ground running and push through in order to graduate next spring. This girl is ready to move on and become a real big person. Well, minus the big part. Fingers crossed that the allusion my doctor made today about the biopsy he took not looking so great was just a really poorly tasted joke.

Ten Things That Need To Be In My Closet Now:

1. Tall, slender black boots.
2. Black fitted leggings.
3. 3" Chino Shorts from J. Crew, any bright color. (I guess the knock-offs from Delias would be okay too.)
4. Denim short-alls, either from H&M or Anthro.
5. Purple or blue, Vince Camuto Korsi pumps.
6. New dark wash jeans.
7. Hot pink, highlighter nail polish.
8. Feminine, 60s, pinkish mini dress.
9. Knee-length, wool, plaid skirt.
10. Tortoise, rounded sunglasses.

An Epic Movie about Esther?

Why did I not know about this? It's probably pretty dumb; the title alone is bad. But stilllllll, this is like top 10 best Biblical stories ever. Plus, Peter O'Toole and Omar Sharif are reunited in it? omg.must.be.watched.

Well I saw that one coming from like a mile away. Actually, since September.

Hopeless Hopes and Dreams:

Is it okay if my future house looks something like this? Okay, thanks.

Now You See It, Now You Don't:

Remember that festering tumor on my pancreas that I gave up school, an awesome job, a Spring/Summer internship in NYC, a social life, and my sanity in order to come home and have surgery to get it removed? Yeah well, apparently it's gone. (If you're new to this, I wrote a little recap below. It's not your fault if you don't know. I don't really tell people.) I had a MRI last week and all signs point to the tumor/growth/cyst thing deciding to disappear. Which is great and all. I mean, I am really happy that I don't have to go through the 10-12 hour surgery where they have to take organs out of my body in order to reach the pancreas, spend 3-4 weeks in the hospital recovering, followed by 6-8 weeks of nearly bedridden time at home. That was going to be awful. I wasn't looking forward to it. However, more than anything I was looking forward to the saga being over. It was going to be a great relief when spring came around and I could put this behind me; I wasn't going to have worry about it anymore. Now I will have another MRI and biopsy in six months and then a MRI every year for the next five years, just to make sure it's really gone and doesn't make a triumphant return.

Right now, my surgery, which was scheduled for this Tuesday the 24th, is canceled. I will be having a biopsy next week just to double check that the tumor is really gone. I mean, my doctors have declared a miracle cure once before and were wrong, so I'm still holding my breath. I guess I shouldn't celebrate just yet. However, if it is gone, what the heck am I supposed to do now? I don't go back to school until the end of April... basically I'm stuck at home for no reason. I need a job. Honestly, I am willing to take a job anywhere. I don't even want to stay in Vancouver/Camas. There is nothing keeping me here now. Not to mention, the singles' ward here sucks. I have no friends here, besides my mom and my cat. I feel like I need to get out of here and find a job in a new city or I will go crazy. If anyone knows of anything, let me know!

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been saying prayers on my behalf. Prayer works! My mom has been telling me for months that she's been praying that the tumor will disappear, I guess she's been living right, or something. Thank you for all your support and love. And thanks to my grandpa who gave me a blessing right before I came home, that probably helped a lot too. Oh, and thanks to my doctors. I have met some really awesome people during this time. Dr. Yuan, you're bomb. And Dr. Meitz, if you weren't like 20 years older than me and married, I'd totally want to have your children. Dr. Lundbland, I really like your hippie hair. And Dr. Sheppard, you're the best surgeon I could have asked for.

I do want to reinforce that there is a possibility that the pathologists will find something again when I have the biopsy next week. If that's the case, then I have written this long, explanatory post for nothing. However, I wanted y'all to know what's happening. My parents tell me that I'm really bad at keeping people informed. I will let you know as soon as I know.

The pancreas is the ugly, yellow, bumpy one. See how difficult it is to get to?

Medical saga recap:
This is the blurb version. Summer 2010, my mom took me to the ER because I had been throwing up for like 6 hours straight and having intense abdominal pain, after my mom stopped thinking that it was just cramps, she got really worried and thought I was going to die from dehydration. She wanted to get an IV in me, so we went to the ER. Well, I was in the hospital for 3 days where they ran a lot of tests. They love those things. I found out two things 1) the throwing up/nausea/pain problem I was having at the time was caused by some bleeding in my stomach (random), 2) when they did a CT scan, they found a growth on my pancreas. Here's where it gets tricky. I won't bore you with the details of the back and forth diagnoses, but over the next year, I saw many different doctors and had many more tests. They couldn't agree for a long time, until this fall when they all came to a consensus that it was a pseudo papillary tumor. Even Sloan-Kettering and Harvard Medical School agreed! We all felt pretty confident about this. Pseudo papillary tumors are most common among women 18-45 (check), although usually seen on the latter end of the scale. They also have like a 15-20% of turning into cancer and since pancreatic cancer is like super scary and you basically die, the tumor had to come out. So I planned to take off winter semester from school and get this thing taken care of. Which is where we are now.

For once I liked Relief Society:

For me, Relief Society is hit or miss. Especially in YSA wards. I know that other girls my age complain about how they don't like Relief Society in their home wards because they're with all the "old women." Yeah, I don't get that. The lessons given be these "old women" are 100 times better than the lessons given by teachers in my BYU wards. They have more experiences to share, they have better insight to give, they spend more time preparing because they care just a little bit more, and they don't spend Saturday night out with their boyfriend until 2 AM and then present their lesson half asleep and in a love-drunk state. I like my home ward Relief Society, 9 times out of 10 I actually get something out of the lessons, compared to like 2 out of 10 in YSA wards. However, yesterday I went with my sister to her YSA ward in Seattle and the lesson was very good. It was lesson one in the George Albert Smith manual about his personal creed that he wrote for his life. Let me tell you, George Albert Smith was bomb. Maybe it's irreverent to called a deceased prophet of the Church bomb, but he totally was. I mean, his goatee, come on it's awesome. Anyways, the teacher had us write down our own personal creed about traits we want to be known for and remembered for.

When I am gone, I want to be remembered for:

1. Always accepting others and never judging their mistakes or flaws.
2. Always being honest.
3. Being an inspiration for good in others.
4. Being kind and loving.
5. Recognizing those in need of a friend or a service and being that friend or providing that service.
6. Having unfailing conviction and integrity and never being ashamed of the gospel of Christ.
7. Surrounding myself with people smarter and more capable than myself, especially when I am in positions of power -- to never let pride confine or cripple me.
8. Being strong in the face of trials, thus having unwavering trust in God.
9. Being a scholar of the scriptures.
10. Being happy.

I am very far from achieving most of these goals. They are ideals and I have a lifetime to perfect them.

Fitz and the Tantrums: Breakin' The Chains of Love

Good song, I've been playing it on repeat, but I regret watching the video. From now on when I listen to this, all I am going to see are his weird, two-toned bangs flapping around. Should have gotten actors, people.

Finding Joy in the Journey:

I went to see a good friend of mine the other day. She is a mother of seven and one of the strongest people I know. I admire her in so many ways, especially for her constant, persistent optimism. Some people may fault her for her optimism, but I perpetually praise her for her unfailing strength to endure. At the same time, however powerful and persevering she may be does not mean that she did not have her moments of complaint; moments when she murmured and questioned "Why me?" to Heavenly Father. I felt the same way. I used be frustrated with God too, and would protest the nearly insurmountable trials after trials she was facing. "C'mon, really, Heavenly Father?," I would say, "Does she really need this? Her life isn't a 'hills' course on a treadmill, she's a good person, a good member of the Church, a good mother, give her a break."

I say that she "did" have her moments because when I visited her last week she related to me her goal to quit complaining. She decided over a month ago to put whining aside. She decided to not even think complaints or criticisms, let alone say them. The result has been miraculous, she said. She has a whole new "come what may, and love it" (thanks, Joseph B. Wirthlin) attitude and it has made a world of difference. The nearly insurmountable trials you face seem a little more surmountable when you don't constantly remind yourself how steep the climb is and how rocky the terrain looks. There is no point to whining. Whining doesn't ease the process. Whining doesn't quicken the recovery. Whining doesn't lighten the burden. If anything, whining may slow the solution if it alienates the people who would otherwise be inclined to help you. Even if you're optimistic and you know it will eventually be over, even if you know that there is a lesson to be learned and growth to be obtained, and even if you know there will be a beautiful view and a sunrise at the top, it does not excuse the grumbling along the way.

As I lay in bed at noon today, not sleeping, but just laying there feeling sorry for myself and hating my existence, I remembered what she told me. I remembered her description of the change she felt. There is no use in murmuring, but there is use in trying to be happy and finding joy in the journey. This is my new goal. It is only January, if I feel like I cannot handle this now then I don't know what state I'll be in by March if I don't try to conquer the depression now. Therefore, you will not hear, "I'm soooo bored" or "Ugh, I miss my friends, I want to go back to school!" from me again. And by "you," I mean my mom, since she is the only person I talk to daily.

The Daily Universe:

I totally forgot about being interviewed for this article in BYU's daily newspaper and then it donned on me today! I feel slightly awesome to be quoted. I only hope this isn't my Warhol 15 minutes. That would suck.

http://universe.byu.edu/index.php/2011/11/18/students-learn-diplomacy-through-model-un/

Hello friend,

I'll be seeing you and your ultra expressive eyes tomorrow night.

The "M" Word:

Just because I say I don't believe in marriage doesn't mean that I don't believe in marriage. And it doesn't mean that I don't sometimes spend late nights looking up wedding dresses or diamond rings for way longer than is healthy. And it doesn't mean that I don't have a secret folder on my computer full of photos and documents about my perfect wedding. It doesn't mean that I'm not a girl with girly hopes and dreams. However, it does mean that it is not a priority right now. I'm barely 20, I still have about 20 child bearing years left, I am in no rush. I don't need a man and a ring on my finger to feel like a successful Mormon woman. That being said, if/when I get married, I'm wearing this: