Settling Into Things

I should be studying right now, but I hit a wall about an hour ago and I can't seem to get any will power back. I blame the fact that I wrote two finals today, 3 in class essays and passage citing (blehhhh), and it resulted in a blister on my pinky from rubbing on the paper as I frantically wrote the fastest I could. Being in English is super easy for the most part, there I said it, but then I remember the finals, and the horrible hours spent throwing everything I know onto a piece of paper. Those are the worst. There have been times when my hand has straight up cramped out, only to look at my professor smiling sweetly at my pain. At these moments I simply switch to my left hand and laugh over the struggle they'll have deciphering what I'm trying to write...


On a completely different note, Scott and I decided we are over the honeymoon phase. Is that a weird conversation or what? We were both studying the other night, and our desperation levels must have been guinness world record high, because suddenly laying on our bed, talking about anything, and guessing where each other hid the Christmas presents seemed like a night out on the town. As we laid there promising each other with our pinkies that we wouldn't start watching New Girl on Netflix until we both were done exams (I am ashamed to admit I did not keep this promise), Scott turned to me and started asking me questions.

"If you could eat anything for the rest of your life what would it be?" Uhh, anything that's bad for me.

"What was your favourite part about our wedding day?" Mmmm, the wedding part?

As we laid there, asking each other questions, we started to reminisce about our relationship. We talked about the first time we met, and when I gave Scott his first kiss (yeah, I definitely initiated that act…), and when he came home, and when he proposed. We talked and talked, looking back at everything, and suddenly we talked all the way up to the present. We talked about our relationship, and were both amazed to realize how far we've come. I look back at when we were first pronounced man and wife, and feeling like I knew everything about this guy. If only I could have fast forwarded to the next day when I realized Scott does not close the bathroom door…

At that moment, sitting on our bed, we both had a moment of feeling well acquainted. Reading my mind, Scott said, "I'm so glad we're not in the honeymoon phase anymore." I have to agree. I feel like Scott and I have finally started settling into things. When we were first married there was a lot of adjustment on my part, but we're really starting to get the hang of things. I'm a pouter, but now every time I try to put on the cold shoulder and pucker my lip, I can't keep a straight face for the life of me. I also used to be the queen of shut outs, but now we both realize it's pretty much futile and usually settle things over a big bowl of popcorn. Dill pickle seasoning mandatory. Always. I take pride in the fact that I am becoming less of a brat, and I have to give all of the credit to marriage.

As I mulled this information over, I turned to Scott and said, "You know, I love you in a totally different way than when I first married you." It's true, too. I don't know about anyone else, but suddenly one day you look at your spouse and you realize that you love them for a lot more than you can comprehend. It's actually overwhelming. When I first got married the excitement of everything being new fuelled a lot of my love, but now it's the consistent, everyday things that I love. I've settled comfortably into my feelings, and there's the distinct feeling that there's no going back from this. I couldn't undo this if I wanted to, and it's oddly unsettling and comforting all at the same time.

So, in conclusion, we have successfully moved into the "settling in" phase of our marriage, and it feels really nice. Even though Scott drives me crazy sometimes, and even though I can't for the life of me remember to fold the laundry that has been sitting in the hamper for 5 days, there's strange comfort in these quirks and the fact that they're probably never going to change… Sorry Scott.

I don't know why I feel like I always need to upload a picture? It's a problem, really.


I'm Outré

I've been really trying to get into journaling, but I find myself extremely fake in every entry. It starts as just a simple jotting down of things that have happened, and then I turn super serious, like CNN news during elections serious, and then it turns all emotional, and it's like: "Blessings!" Blaaaaaahh. Anyways, I'm not charming or funny via journal… Actually I'm really not that charming via any sort of medium (insert: every conversation I have). For some reason, 50 years down the road, when my granddaughter is reading my journal, because she's super righteous and loves family history, I want her to remember that her great G-ma Kels actually had a sense of humour. I want to be that cool grandma!

So tonight I sat down, and I imagined this future granddaughter of mine reading my story of me and Noah, and how he built this house for me that had blue shutters, and read to me everyday our story about our undying love… wait, what? But really, I tried to be funny, and I sounded like I was doing a stand up comedy routine.

So then I put the pencil down, and I realized that I'm being a little bit neurotic about this. Rather than imagining the plot to a really sad grandma-granddaughter movie plot where she visits me everyday because I'm super cool, but then I have to die at the end, because for some reason that's always necessary (?!), instead I acted like a normal person. I simply wrote about my day.

Dear Diary,

Today I tried to high five with someone at church, and it didn't go very well. Afterwards, it slipped out during sunday school that I happened to have put mascara on Scott's moustache the other day. And yes, it is a lot thicker than you think. We had the home teachers over, I napped for two hours, then when I woke up my bangs were all curly, and I had an uncanny likeness to Carey Mulligan in Pride and Prejudice before she was smoking hot and instead looked scraggly all the time. Finally, around dinner time I watched Scott mistake a pita for a tortilla, desperately trying to separate the pita in two so he could make a quesadilla… I know, I don't get it either.

Have a great night.

G-Ma Kelsey

Also, here is a picture of Carey Mulligan in case this is the future and no one understands my popular culture references.


That Time I Became Too Cool for Eight Dollar Jeans

This year I'm not playing on any kind of sports team. I was elated at the idea initially, but now I find myself incredibly bored and inactive. Scott plays on a volleyball team that I found on kijiji. Seriously, what can't you find on that place? I had the idea after I watched that one documentary where that guys lives off craigslist for a month that I can't remember the name of... yep. Anyways, tangent, I have become hyper-competitive with everything, and I'm blaming it on the fact that I have no outlet at the moment. 

The other day Scott was studying, I was studying, and I had the tremendous idea to duel it out via Monopoly Deal. For those who have not played this game, it is highly addictive. To make a long story short, I beat Scott five times in a row. I was floating with happiness. I had gotten my fill of competition and could now effectively study. That night while we were going to bed Scott let it slip that he had let me win a few times. Based on his face I knew he wasn't lying, and in a fit of anger I found myself saying in all seriousness, "You wanna play?! Come at me bro!" And that was the moment I realized I needed to be done with Monopoly Deal for a while... 

So I started out with that story to give you an idea of my hyper-competition at the moment, but this has gotten to actually be a problem for me. Let me use another story to explain why.

On Saturday I woke up and decided I needed new jeans. I didn't care what they would cost, I'd even go into my students loans to have them if I had to. I told Scott of my huge need and he took a look at my closet, which contains more pairs of jeans than I would like to acknowledge and asked quizzically, "But... Why?" I told him it was a stress relief and would make me feel better. He simply nodded his head and followed me out to the mall. While we were there my eyes peered for all of the right brands. We went to some stores I knew we couldn't afford and I longed for the cute jeans. Knowing Scott absolutely despises "brand slaves" I resisted the urge and decided I would get something a little cheaper. I walked by stores that I used to love because they just "weren't good enough", or "not good enough quality". I couldn't find anything I liked and the guilt of spending so much money was starting to get to me, but it was like there was a voice in my head telling me I couldn't settle for something "cheap". Finally, after all hope seemed to be lost, Scott pulled me into Forever 21 and pointed out that there were jeans for $8. Eight dollhairs! I can't remember the last time I saw jeans for that cheap. I refused. I was not going to try on jeans that only cost 8 dollars. Scott encouraged me, and what do you know I loved them. As I went up to the cash register I remember being embarrassed that the girl putting me through would think less of me. I was embarrassed for saving a buck.

Ever since that event I have been disgusted with myself. When did I become a slave to consumerism? More and more I keep seeing people buying things they can't afford, and have looked back to realize I have fallen into that category. I look at families with one income, and probably just an average one at that, and wonder how these moms and dad's can afford to buy that certain pair of pants, or shop at that store. I see babies in brand name clothes and I think, don't they just poop in that? Now, don't get me wrong, I believe that we should feel good about how we look, but where is the limit? I read a really interesting psychological study that people's minds have evolved to believe that assets=wealth, even if that person has substantial debt. That basically means that even if the person is thousands of dollars in debt, if they have a nice house, nice clothes, and a nice car they're rich.  

When my parents were newly married, and my dad was going to school, they had two little girls and both worked. My mother had two jobs, my dad had one job and was a full time student, and everyday would drop their kids off at a daycare to make sure they had enough to live. My parents knew what hard work was, and because of that, many years later, their hard work has paid off to living comfortably. My parents are not wealthy, but they are very comfortable. They don't have a huge house, and when I ask why they don't build their dream house, the simple answer from my mother is that she doesn't need it, nor does she need any kind of debt. (Side note: these are the parents that used to, for family home evening, make me go over everything we had spent money on that month and mark whether it was a want or a need...) I am in awe of that, and when I look at myself all I can wait for is to have my dream house, with my dream husband, and not work for the rest of my life. 

So why am I like this? I have two theories:

1.) I have to compete against everyone, even people I love. I have to feel like I look better, richer (even though we all know that's not true), and to hide from them the fact that Scott and I do struggle.

2.) As a generation, we have become obsessed with ourselves. We love ourselves above anyone else, and for that reason have become obsessed with our appearance. Look at every social network, and how often people portray how they really feel. Rather than enjoying my life in privacy, I have to exploit every happy moment just to simply show it off.

With that I've decided that I'm going to be more realistic. I'm going to actually acknowledge my insecurities rather than hide them behind things. I'm going to let Scott dress like a scrub, and I'm going to wear cheap jeans, because in reality the only people that really care about those things is myself, and people who share this similar self-obsession.

Let me just say, I'm grateful Scott has this whole "minimal living" thing figured out. 

Anyways, here's a cute picture of Scott, because what's a blog post without a picture?


One of Those Apologetic Summer Posts

I haven't posted in a long time, I'm sorry!

Throughout the summer I've sat down, looked at my computer screen, written a sentence or two, then out of boredom of myself shut the computer and walked off. I've actually written quite a bit of things this summer, but it never seems quite right when I go to send it off to space. In all honesty this summer has been slow, quiet, and interesting all at the same time. I've been unbelievably busy, yet very still. That's been one of my favourite things about married life. I feel like in times of busy-ness, it's for things that matter. Single life is full of so much mundane quickness, that I always felt busy over nothing. It's nice to do what matters, then come home to a spouse to relax. People always joke about watching way too much netflix when you get married, or that you become boring. In all honesty, I love being boring! It's so nice to go to bed early because the person I would normally stay up late to talk to is right beside me. No matter what, at the end of my day I have a time to just reflect on my life. That never happened when I was single. I was so obsessed with the image of myself that I didn't ever just sit and think about what I really was.

No one told me that when you get married life suddenly becomes one giant observation of yourself. To say I've learned a bit is an understatement, yet every time I go to write something about marriage it feels unnatural. I'm married now, so it's time for gush and mush and all that good stuff, right? In all honesty, marriage has been the best decision for the two of us, but the hardest change for me. Day after day I see the person I was and try to move away from it, and it's really, really hard. It's hard to go from being consumed by your own self to suddenly thinking about another person in all decisions. It's hard to be selfish, and then switch to selfless. Luckily I have a lot of time to practice, and a spouse who comes naturally to selflessness. I remember after a month of being married arguing over something really dumb. Scott left to go do some bank stuff, and while he was gone I was brooding over what I had said, and realizing what I really felt. I have realized one thing so far that has been invaluable: more often than not, when I am unhappy, it is because of my own doing. I realized how selfish I had been and set out to do something nice for Scott. I showered, got dressed, and was ready to take Scott out for lunch when he walks in with flowers and a picnic. I laugh now over how ridiculous my next sentence was, "Scott, what are you doing?! I was going to do something nice for you! You beat me to it!"(as said in my most exasperated voice)

Scott and I have been really lucky all summer. We're attempting (emphasis on attempting) to live debt free while we go to school, and have been blessed like I can't believe. It's like as soon as we got married, the universe decided we deserved some great things. I guess it was the right choice then, eh? We've worked all summer up at Waterton serving, have found a great apartment for school, and have gone on two great trips to Hawaii and Atlanta. If that's not lucky I don't know what is. Someday when I'm feeling less preachy, and more share-y, I'll tell you guys all about the trips. For now though, some pictures are just going to have to suffice!

so miserable... haha. #hateheat

ate waaaaaay too much big scoop.

we love U of A!

Bears Hump before work.

 And now, some of our Atlanta trip (of which I took few pictures... unless it was food)

Atlanta temple!

deep fried apple pie. #nowords

Georgia aquarium!


Goodbye, and may we see you soon, Southern Alberta!


Tying the Knot

I have come out of hiding. I feel like a month is sufficient enough time to enter the cyber world again. For some reason I'm always super creeped out when people get married and the next morning they're back on facebook or instragram, and their name has been changed. I used to think, "Everyone knows you just DID it. Go and hide!"(Too much?)

I laugh now because the day after we were married we were sitting in the airport, both on our phones, surfing all the social networks. I think Scott went to go instagram a wedding picture and I begged him, "Please no! It's too soon!" I don't know why I'm weird about that stuff... anyways.... haha.

The night before we were married I decided last minute (haha) I was going to put together a slide show and so I was up until the wee hours of the morning. Call me crazy but I know I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyways. I was completely exhausted in the morning. My friend Jordan showed up around 8 to do my hair and I was barely dragging myself out of bed, which is pretty typical of me everyday to leave waking up to the last minute. She gave me a book of letters from both mine and Scott's family and my close friends. It was so special to read that while I got ready. I had a hard time keeping it together but it all honesty it was perfect for setting the mood that day.

As I drove to the temple with my mom I was panicking. It's crazy the amount of emotions you feel that day. Every fear and self doubt came streaming back and I would constantly turn to my mom and say, "This is it. Is this happening? Oh my gosh." It's a scary thought realizing what a big step marriage is. That fear didn't go away. As I got ready to be married I remember my stomach being in a giant knot. My hands were sweating, my throat was dry, and I just didn't look all that well.

But then, as I'm sure it is with every bride who gets married in the temple, you walk into a room to be married and see your family around you. I have never felt so much love in my life, and I bawled like a newborn babe the entire time. Literally don't remember anything except that I was so happy (oops?). That's the best feeling in the world. I would endure the horrors of planning again just for that.

The rest of the day I remember bits of. By the time we left Cardston I hadn't eaten all day because I had had no appetite and then downed a litre of water while Scott and I drove back to Magrath for the family dinner. This resulted in me eating way too quickly later and pretty much feeling horrible the rest of the day. The family dinner was fun and delicious, my slideshow didn't work until it was just my friends and family around (which looking back I'm very happy about), but in all honesty I was on the verge of up-chucking everything I had just eaten. During the reception I would smile and shake peoples hands and then immediately have to sit down when there was a break so I wouldn't pass out. Ha.... ha...

Putting that aside though, I loved everything. I remember driving up to Calgary that night and tearing up because I was so grateful. That is really the best part about a wedding day: being surrounded by people who love you all day and seeing the guy you genuinely love become very permanent in your life. I had so much service given to me by so many people leading up to and on our wedding day. What a wonderful way to start a marriage!

Sometimes Scott and I will be talking and I'll just have to blurt, "Is this real? Are we actually married?!" Also can't tell you how many times Scott has turned to me at the most random moments and said, "Kels... you're my wife!" It's like it's not even real, but then it also feels very natural. Kind of a weird thing to experience.

We don't have any wedding day pictures yet, but we took some quick bridals a week before to have at the reception. I would encourage everyone to do this. Have some quick bridals before, the day of only take family pictures and a few together, and then plan a later session at any place you would like. So much less stress. We did our bridals in maybe 40 minutes because the sun just wasn't the best that day and I was freezing! They turned out great for what we wanted and a big thanks to Heather! If you wanna look at them go here.

(I don't know how to upload pictures in good quality on here...)


How Food Poisoning Got Me Engaged

Scott always loves to ask me questions about when he first came home. He's a pretty nostalgic guy, and loves to reminisce about special little moments. This weekend he asked me when I knew I wanted to marry him. I gave him the romantic answer of: "I dunno... just seemed like it was right I guess." That answer right there is why Scott, days after we got engaged, exclaimed, "Kels, you're just not romantic!" when I burped after he told me how much he loves me...

I have been thinking about when I really knew, and for some reason I can only think of one specific time. I wish I could say this was a really tender, romantic moment, but really it was a mess. Literally, a MESS.

Scott and I went to dinner at State & Main, and, feeling adventurous, I opted out of my usual meat and potatoes (like a real man!) and went for a spinach and balsamic flatbread. I can honestly say this is one of the worst decisions I have ever made. After some weird flavours I couldn't quite place, and some unbelievably soggy spinach, I finally gave up on the dish and ate some of Scott's food. Scott entered that restaurant with a girlfriend and left with Satan's spawn. I was the definition of "hangry".

 We drove back to Cardston, and I knew my whining was driving Scott nuts. I decided to shut up before he changed his mind about ever wanting to be around me again. When we got back to his house his whole family seemed to be there. I had planned on staying over, but didn't realize just how many siblings would be staying there too. Scott has eight, by the way... yep. I decided it was probably better for me to just go home and settled down for some conversation and games. At first I was fine, but then something started to turn in my stomach. It wasn't nausea... It was just a really weird pinching feeling in my stomach. I've been having stomach problems since October, so I figured it was just another bout of cramping that I tend to get when I eat too much fatty food, dairy, or basically anything that's not a vegetable. I laid down on the couch while everyone talked around me, Scott rubbing my feet, and pretended like I was just "really tired" when in reality I was imagining the scene in Alien when she becomes impregnated by those aliens and it's super creepy.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up around 1 with Scott sleeping at the other end of the couch. I nudged him, told him I was driving home, and that I would see him the next day. Scott, being the nice guy he is, just told me to go sleep in his bed and that he would sleep on the couch so I wouldn't have to drive home so late. I countered that I didn't feel well and should probably just drive home. I stopped in mid sentence, looked at scott, and said:

"Scott, I think I'm si------"

I didn't get to finish that sentence before I was hurtling towards the bathroom fighting back projectile vomit. I'm not kidding, I have never barfed that hard in my entire life. I'm also not kidding when I say I didn't quite make it to the toilet. Aka I barfed all over his mother's bathroom wall. I curled up in the fetal position, thinking that this would be the last of my life. I heard Scott knocking softly on the bathroom door, "Kels?! Are you okay?!" I told him to "get out, don't come any closer!" and cleaned up the mess I had left. After I laid on the ground too afraid to move. I knew this war was not over, and I wasn't sure how prepared I was for it.

Some time passed and Scott attempted to come in but I wouldn't have it. We had been "re-dating" for three weeks, and even though I had dated him for years before, I felt like this was something no one should ever see. I had puke all over me, you guys. I started to cry from embarrassment, and puked some more. It was a horrible routine. I would curl up in a ball, puke, clean the toilet again so his mother would never know, and resume the position. I thought things were eventually getting better, but I was wrong.


The food had started to go down my digestive system, and suddenly I was faced with the dilemma. Those who have experienced this know what I'm talking about. Which takes priority? It's never an easy decision. I won't go into details but basically I was switching from front to back for about 20 more minutes. Along with that, I had also been puking so hard my nose had started bleeding.... So when I was crawling over to the cleaning supplies I realized I had been dripping blood all across his mothers bathroom mats. Sue, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I did this to your bathroom.

So where was Scott this whole time? He was coming in and out of the bathroom whenever there was an intermission between attacks, holding my hand, and bringing me a glass of water. By this point I just really didn't care, and being the drama queen I am, I wanted to see his face before I died. Eventually the storm passed and I tentatively left the bathroom in hopes of some sleep. What did Scott do? He held me close while I shook uncontrollably. I smelled like something that no one should ever smell, and he didn't say a word the entire time. That is love. I'm pretty sure he even kissed me once, as disgusting as that is. I remember constantly begging him to breath through his mouth, and apologizing for the mess I was.

"I had diarrhea and barfed at the same time..." I informed him. why did i bring this up?! I was seriously so delusional all night...

"I know... I could hear you."

"And you still love me?"

"Of course, don't be silly."

"Okay... Tell your mom I'm sorry I ruined her bath mats."

I then passed out for the night, but not before thinking about what he said. "Of course, don't be silly." Up until that point I had been silly and insecure, but some how puking and knowing that if Scott could handle holding someone who looked and smelled like... well, you know... that of course he could love me at other times too.


Your Opinion, Please!

I wasn't lying in my previous post when I spoke of my feelings on wedding planning... It also doesn't help that I'm the most indecisive person ever. I'm getting my dress made, and it will have elements of organza and some different laces... That's all I'm going to say ;). So keep that in mind while you skim these head bands, and PLEASE, if you can, leave a comment about what headpiece is your favourite!

This will most likely be how I make all of my future decisions... So consider yourself my planners.

Option #1:

Option #2:

Option #3:

Option #4:

Option #5:

Option #6:

Option #7:



A Really Long Post

(This post is all over the place.... sorry!)

Marriage has always been an absolutely terrifying thing to me. I mean, sure, my parents have been married for over 30 years and they're happy, but for some reason that never really convinced me that it was "my" thing. That level of commitment is horrifying. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of being stuck with the same person for, well, FOREVER. I will admit there were times where my pinterest was blowin' up with dresses and bouquets... but that can be attributed to the fact that I watch Four Weddings and Say Yes to the Dress every day.

It was easy to get excited about a wedding... but definitely not a marriage. I used to say to my girlfriends, "I just want a fake fiancé so I can have a ring and get cute pictures... " or "Wouldn't it be great if we got a wedding but didn't have to be married after?" If I could have had it my way I would've dated my boyfriends for years and years, never actually committing for the rest of my life. If you can't tell, I was... and am... really selfish.

I hadn't spoken to Scott for a looooooong time, and in all honesty I couldn't really remember anything all that great about him. I remembered that he was a ginger... and that was about it. I didn't want to date him, and when he repeatedly asked me to be his girlfriend I gave him a definite no. I was confused, he was frustrated, and the situation was just a huge mess.

 But the weird thing is that just seeing him a few times I couldn't stop thinking about him. I couldn't stop noticing how kind and happy and generous he was. It was so easy to be around him, and when we were together it was like I never stopped dating him and we were the same. Then again, we were also different. I was more willing to say I was wrong and he wasn't such a push over. We had both grown up and like a typical RM he was ready to get down to business. I remember him repeatedly telling me, "I'm not messing around here Kels... So you shouldn't be either."

So then all of the sudden I was dating him, and then I was telling him I loved him, and then he wasn't going down to BYU anymore. Things were happening fast and, pardon my french, I was crapping my pants. I had the feeling like I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve to be happy and in love and I didn't deserve these kind of things to happen to me so quickly. I remember having daily panic attacks wondering what people were going to think of me. What would they say? Do they think I'm crazy? Am I crazy? As I let criticism and hurt enter my heart I noticed that it was impossible for me to have love and happiness in it also. Finally one day as I was fretting about what people were saying or about what they thought I had the distinct thought come into my mind saying, "When it comes down to it, do you care what they think or what Heavenly Father thinks?" I had a good long prayer and I remember feeling so peaceful over this guy.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I cared more about what acquaintances had thought of me. I had gotten my answer. I knew it was right to be with Scott, and I shamefully admit that I doubted that simply because of what people, who didn't really know or love me, were saying about me. After I realized that, the ball just started rolling. I finally accepted that I wanted to marry Scott, and all of the sudden I was the girl who wanted a marriage. ME!! WANTING MARRIAGE!!!! 

So basically here we are. In almost lightning speed I have gotten engaged, and I still can't believe it. It's not so fast considering we dated for two years, right? At least that's what I tell myself to ease the left over committment fears that are piece-by-piece disappearing. Although, I can honestly say that since a wedding has been made a reality, I have zero interest in actually planning one. I'm not kidding. Did anyone else experience this? It is not fun. Center pieces? Who cares! Food? People can bring a lunch! haha, just kidding... Consider this my offer to whomever: will you be my wedding planner?

I seriously love this guy. Just yesterday I made him dinner and we sat down to watch The Bachelor. He was so enthralled and I laughed so hard over this. He was honestly so concerned for these girls and when Ashlee went off he looked so thoughtful and heartbroken for her, because I think he is the only person in the world who fell for that tear-stricken video for Sean. "You know, I really think she loved him Kels...." hahaha he kills me. Right before I came back to Canada from reading week my grandpa sat me down and said, "Kelsey, that man will make you laugh for the rest of your life. He will always love you." It was a tender moment, and I'm happy to say that I really do think that will be the case.

Oh, and P.S. as of now Scott's dead set on Catherine, and I am too. You go girl!


... yolo?

I feel like I need to mention something that drives me up the wall...

The YOLO mentality.

Can I just express how much I hate that saying and all that it stands for? I remember being in class and a student saying, "Oh I didn't study for my exam... YOLO!" What the heck does that even mean? It's as though failing to be responsible, or doing what we have to, can be neglected because "you only live once". This confuses me because shouldn't that idea of only being able to do this once provoke the opposite? This line of thought honestly infuriates me, and mostly because until about a month ago this was exactly how I thought.

The past six months I have been a different person than I actually am. All I wanted was to leave Edmonton, school, and family behind to partake of this yolo-ism. I looked at my friends who were married or those having children and I laughed. Their lives were over. all I wanted was to be single and travel the world, ignoring any type of rational thinking, and acting purely on emotion. The problem though, is that I didn't ever "find" myself with this thinking. If anything, I became more miserable. My attitude turned entirely towards the world, and I wanted more and I needed more and my life was a constant competition. I couldn't be happy for anyone and this whole "living only once" was turning into not living at all. I remember in November thinking, "Now if I just go on a big trip in February that can carry me over until the summer... then I could take out a loan and go to Asia or something..." As I looked forward to these impractical and illusional thoughts of "happiness" I felt almost a hand slapping me across the face. Here I was in school, doing the things that I wanted, and all I could think about was what was next. My next great adventure, or the next "expression of myself". Barf.

As the month of November went on I made many friends from all religions and lifestyles. I realized something during that time: I didn't want their lives. As kind and as fun as these people were, they were so lost. They didn't know what they wanted in their lives and seemed to be biding their time until they figured it out. I realized that was not me. I wanted to grow up, I wanted to live traditionally, and I wanted the things that I know make me happy. As I sat the other night with some girlfriends and talked about the world changing, I realized there isn't time to mess around. It's times to make goals that are realistic and be productive. I feel like I'm preaching but trust me when I say I am not perfect at this. Sometimes I still have that minor panic attack that I'm not "living" enough, but then I take a step back and I look at my family members and I realize that they have it. They're happy, and they have lives much fuller than mine could have ever been alone.

So with that I plan on making this year one of growth, eternal perspectives, enduring love and relationships, and, above all, one that is centered around principles and doctrine that I know produce happiness.
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