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.