Turns out?

I don't deal so well with change. Especially big ones. Like Squeegee going on a mission. Yes. I know she's going to be the greatest missionary ever. Yes, I know that in 18 months she's going to come home and that she's not dead or anything. Yes, I know that missions are totally awesome and that missionaries make the world a better place. But all of this knowledge didn't stop me from crying like a baby when I said goodbye today. Or all the way home. Or while I was sitting at my desk at work. Or any time anyone asked me how it went. Let's be honest. My eyes are a little raw now and I've got quite the headache. Erin promised me that it gets better and she's too sweet and wonderful to lie to me, so I'll take her word for it.

I'm now accepting donations to my mental health and stability for the next year and a half.

(Was all that dramatic enough for you? I promise, I'm doing much better than it seems though all the stuff about crying it true).

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a galaxy far, far away. Maybe it was the sunny and bright city of North Hollywood, California, but that's beside the point. It was a momentous and incredible moment in my life. I met this fantastic, wonderful, energetic, amazing and life changing girl:


 

That's right. Malinda Nevitt. If you don't know her, you should. She makes the world a sassier place. I chose this particular picture because, hi, she's posing next to an R2D2 mailbox on Ventura Blvd in California. That is how epically awesome she is. Nevitt is one of 3 people who could actually convince me to brave the insane, hell-like heat of Arizona to visit her. And when I did, she didn't even make me leave her house. I spent an entire day in a freezing cold room, with Panda Express, watching Jane Austen movies. It was sheer bliss. She was one of those people who I clicked with in about half a second. She kept me sane for an entire six weeks on my mission. Without her, I would have probably jumped off the 3rd floor of our apartment complex. She was the person who found me crying on Christmas Eve because I was homesick and didn't make fun of me. Basically, what it comes down to is that Malinda Nevitt makes the world a better place and today is marvelous anniversary of her birth. So here's a big hooray for one of my all time, most favorite people.

TQM, Nevitt!

This Handsome Kid Pictured Below...

is my splendid younger (though much taller) brother. 

He's basically one of the greatest kids that I know. If you knew him, 

he'd rock your world. Right now, he's serving a mission for our church in upstate New York. For those few of your who aren't familiar with the concept of LDS missions, when these darling youngins go out into the wide world to share their beliefs with the fabulous people of other states and countries, they are only allowed to call home twice a year: 

Christmas and Mother's Day. 

Today being the latter, I was able to converse with one of my favorite siblings (they're all my favorite for different reasons) for a little while. Can I just tell you all what an incredible kid he is? 

He is fabulous.

And while I'm so proud of him for putting his life on hold to do nothing but serve for 24 months, I miss him like crazy and I can't wait for him to come home in September. I now promise not to gush about him again until he comes home.

Mal in Real Life...

Today I'm tired of real life. I want to escape. To go and hide somewhere away from all the stress and worry that I create. The last few days things have been...difficult, to say the least. Mostly with things that I can't/don't want to talk about with anyone, because it's just that kind of stuff. The things that we must deal with as part of this life. It's strange because as a missionary you just don't. You push everything like that to the side, telling yourself that you'll deal with it when the time comes. But what about when it comes? How do you deal with it then? You can't push it aside, there's no where to push. Sometimes I feel the little voice in my head saying, "Hermana, you're home" and well, to be honest, sometimes I don't really like it very much. I do realize that most of you will read this and in your head you'll say, "Get over it. The mission is over., You're home now." Well, I ask each of you to think, for just a second as that thought comes that it's kind of mean, and to be sympathetic, just for a bit longer. Sometimes I'd like to be a little kid again, you know the stage everyone goes through where if you close your eyes you're pretty sure that because you can't see anyone, no one can see you? That would be nice.