Thursday, December 30, 2010

NINE

I'm the blog boss. Keep that in mind. Also, rules are made to be broken. For that reason, I'm writing many (belated) posts in one day.
I have good reason, Wednesday was Laurel's Night and it was very fun. We ate tortellini, we played What If, we had a decent turn-out. It was shaping up to be a great night. Then we had this scheme: what if we go steal the cookies from Priest's Night down the street? Good plan right? We sneaked down, took their cookies and left our what ifs in place of the cookies. Then, Brother Cochran (new public enemy #1) snitched on us. We sprinted into Catie's house and barricaded ourselves. Soon, we found ourselves under siege. In my defense, my strategy was to ignore the boys, start one of our films and forget about all of this business until we next saw them. But no, retaliation was on the agenda for the day... which boiled down to us losing.
They raided our fort. Which of course meant we had to go down to get our stuff back... it lasted a very long time. Finally, things were resolved with a treaty between Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill and Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo (for full disclosure on who was who, just ask). But by then it was too late to start a film which meant that we had brief "girl-talk".
Yes, life is now very much like WWII, don't worry, as I kept reminding the boys--the Allies win.
This is all beside the point.
1. Leeds Castle The volcano day trip. We only got to go because of Eyjafjallajökull. Yet I another reason I love this blessed volcano. This was a very beautiful country castle estate. We were even there for the tulip festival which was incredible.

2. The Beatles Maybe cliche. But I would argue that everything in the last 50 years branches from this band. Everyone either loves the Beatles or hates the Beatles and willfully tries to avoid them. Can the latter people really not see that trying not to be like the Beatles is still the Beatles' influence? At any rate, I love them. I loved Liverpool 30% because of them. They're swell.

and my endorsement of iTunes... also swell

3. Read more. Yet another list, because hey, why not?? I used to read all the time. Seriously a book a day. I never read anymore. Not even for school because we spend practically a term per novel. It's a problem. Luckily my frenemies at the College Board have my back, with this list.

[if you can read this, it means Leeds pictures are on the way, I've been struggling uploading photos. check back!]

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Blogging Molly

Exactly one year ago today I was counting down the remaining ten days until the best six months of my life. What may you ask am I doing with my life now?
Living in the past.

This is a thing I never wanted to become. It's true that my style is very vintage/retro but I also spruced it up ala Will Robinson/Walt Disney
"We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths."
--Walt Disney


I digress. The point is, I want to live for myself for now as well as learning from and LOVING the past. For that reason, for the next ten days I will share a favorite London place, a different British band/that I feel like sharing (it's up to me, I am the blog boss after all), and something I aspire to do by next year.

1. Kew Gardens The flower fairy-tale land where all of my childhood fantasies were sub-consciously set. I went my last week in London and would LOVE to go back. It was also a highlight because my camera died which meant I got to use Dad's Nikon. I covet this camera....don't tell the prophet on me.


Nikon D7000

I took a few photos...





Great place.
2. Flogging Molly [because I really want to put them on this list, we're pretending their from Northern Ireland] I think they're honestly just on here because it took most of my life before I knew what flogging was. Or why they were flogging Molly. To me that's a good enough reason. Also, I could do witty punny things with their name. I also love any singer who doesn't try to disguise his accent. And I love the film P.S. I Love You. And, I love this song:



and finally...
3. THE MOVIE LIST I will watch every movie on this list and (so I feel like this is a somewhat productive goal) write a critical analysis of each. I'm also giving myself more than a year on this one. I can do this because I am the blog boss as you may recall.
ten...

I Blog, Therefore I Am...

Recently, it was brought to my attention by a certain neighbor from across the street (Miriam) that I don't spend nearly enough time thinking about really important things. I was therefore prompted to ponder some deep issues in the only form I know how. I reviewed the notes I took in AP European History about the major thinkers of the Enlightenment. I've always been rather partial to Descartes--his ideas are so beautifully simple. I know I exist, so I must, why does it matter what anyone else thinks?
In all honesty, I never question whether or not I exist, but I find hope trying to discover beautifully simple things in the world. I set out on this whole blogging expedition with a creed, to find things I LOVE and write about them. I intend fully to resume blogging about things I love, and also, to record somehow the beautifully simple things I find in my day to day life.

1: Lotus Garden on Center Street. Something about Chinese food seems to melt troubles away and for that I am eternally grateful.

2: Christmas Break whoever planned a relaxation break in the middle of the school year was inspired of God.

3: The change in seasons. Knowing that the icy splendor of winter gives way to rebirth in the spring which falls to the sweltering romance of summer which falls into a bitter-sweet autumn.

Stunning.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Fire

Seeing as I am the world's greatest and most consistent blogger i felt like I would post today. Mostly because, I've lately found a word to describe how I feel right now.

BURNED-OUT.


Okay so that's two words, but there's a hyphen. I am tired of life, everything feels so extremely mundane. I wake up tired, I go to sleep tired, I spend the whole day tired. My legs feel like lead half the time and jelly the rest. Sometimes I contemplate the pros and cons of just amputating my legs. Rationality always wins out, don't worry. The important thing is that even though I'm so tired, I really do love my life. It's true that the solution to all of my problems right now is probably dropping out and spending my energy becoming a trophy-wife, but I've always been a believer in the journey so I guess I can graduate from high school before marrying for wealth. All of my complaining likely poses this question:

why exactly do you love life right now?

Because:
I have great friends.
Crazy nights where you go to the mall dressed in unitards and feather boas.
I love my family.
My family loves me (usually).
I believe in Christmas miracles.
I'm on the culinary team at my high school.

In retrospect, it seems like a no-brainer that I'd get into foods, but believe me, it was a little surprising for me. When I was little, I would watch Food Network everyday and I would plan out recipes I would make on Iron Chef. Now I actually get to do just that and it just makes me happy. I love pro-start, so much that it may prompt me to post more often than every six months. I'll leave with just one thought: Brighton, watch out. Because we're going to Kansas City where everything is up-to-date.

That is, unless Kansas City decides to burn down.
Seeing as I spend the better part of my life trying to avoid cliches I refuse to write some long post about how I remember having stake conference in the Old Provo Tabernacle, how I felt the spirit so strongly there. How I felt like my childhood memories were being burnt up. In perfect honesty-- I didn't care for those reasons.
"frankly my dear, I don't give a damn"

I care because it was a B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L. building. I care because it was so old. I care because we can rebuild an exact replica that will never be as beautiful. I care because there are people in the world who say
"it's good that it burnt down because it was so old"

I care, because that statement characterizes the thing I don't like about Americans. I HATE the idea that things should be torn down when they're old because we could put something newer in their place. It's old so we SHOULDN'T put something else in it's place.

THE IDEAL

Speaking of London. It's burning. Again. I see nothing wrong with speaking up for your beliefs. I have absolutely nothing against protests. But whatever happened to Ghandi? Martin Luther King Jr.? What have they come to represent these days? Nothing. It appears as though a peaceful protest has turned into a true oxymoron.



Since the whole world is on fire I'll end with a listing of "fire" songs to get you in the arsonry mood.

Disco Inferno--The Trammps
Your Ex-Lover is Dead--Stars
Firework--Katy Perry
Fire Burning--Sean Kingston
Ring of Fire-- Johnny Cash, Adam Lambert, or Joaquin Phoenix versions
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room--John Mayer
The Unforgettable Fire--U2
Burnin' Up--Jonas Brothers
Black Burning Heart--Keane
St. Elmo's Fire (Man In Motion)--John Parr
Playing With Fire--Brandon Flowers
Fire with Fire--Scissor Sisters
California's Burning--Augustana
Fire--Augustana
Fire & Rain--Mat Kearney
Crossfire--Brandon Flowers
Burning Down the House--Talking Heads
Fire and Rain--James Taylor


Happy Holidays!

Friday, July 09, 2010

Home is where the heart is



This is belated. 14 days after the fact is little late for a welcome home post. It's even later if you consider I haven't blogged since Edinburgh. But the amount of time I've been home does NOT lessen my joy to be back. I love London. Maybe more than Provo. Definitely more than life itself. But not more than I LOVE my friends, my own bed, my cats, my house, my home, my country, my closet, all my favorite restaurants, and did I mention my family??

The first thing we did in Utah? See Alyssa Weist, what else? Her whole family was waiting for her brother to get back from his mission when we came down the escalator at SLC International Airport. Having a welcome party? Greatest feeling ever.

The next thing we did in Utah? JCW's of course. I'd been having dreams about these cheeseburgers for about six months and I almost cried when I tasted my first bite of grilled perfection. I also almost cried when Charlotte informed me that due to the new health plan, America outlawed unlimited refills. NOT FUNNY CHAR!

I also almost cried when we pulled up to my house to see a car parked out front. I love Paige Kate Handley. And Tickle-Me-Elmo's. I finally possess one now which added to the teary eyes for sure. Staying up to talk to Paige, Eric, BJ, and Davis was great except it felt like 4 a.m. which wasn't too great.

I loved waking up the next morning in my own bed and feeling like I was finally back where I belonged. I loved seeing everyone AGAIN on Saturday night and my first date... and I love Eliza Ringer and that she can somehow hit the sweep with her bowling ball TWICE.

Mostly I loved traveling with my mom.

The whole thing felt reminiscent of our October 2010 Disneyland vacation. A.K.A. the funnest trip of my life. We also did our best to rewrite Party in the U.S.A. (our fave song)

I hopped off the plane at JFK with my mom and her cardigan....

I'll spare you the rest..

This concludes my post. For the sake of length I will attempt to keep my posts to a minimum. Please scroll up for a continuation of my life back in the U.S. of A.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Returning to My Ancestral Home

Scotland.
In case there was any doubt I am not Irish. I am Scottish, and after this week I am proud to proclaim--it in true Scottish fashion. Something about Edinburgh had an air of effortless cool.
My Scot fest started with Peter Pan at the Barbican and continued with the Edinburgh trip. After a 4 hour train ride we checked into our hostel then went to the writer's museum to study up on the three Scottish greats: Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott, and Robert Louis Stevenson.

Then came the castle:



I thought this castle was really interesting but I won't pretend that I loved it. I'm glad I saw it, but before too long and after too many bagpipe anthems I was set to move on. We had really good Italian at a place called La Favorita before exhaustedly climbing into our bunks for a semi-restless sleep. The next morning felt much like the day before, and much like every day since January. My feet were tired and callused. I had to consciously make my legs climb down the ladder and into the shower. I thought, well I'll nap later, but this nap never came. I'm not complaining, what is tiredness compared to Europe? An hour by train found us in Stirling to reconnect with our roots:

Once upon a time there was a man named John Macfarlane, who lived in Stirling, Scotland. Before too long he died leaving behind his wife and three children and was buried in Holy Rood churchyard. His wife, her family, and his children converted to the Mormon church and migrated to Utah. His oldest son John, who adopted the middle name Menzies, married three wives. He and his wives moved to Chihuahua, Mexico to avoid persecution and eventually had a mess of children, the very youngest of which was Herbert Adams Macfarlane. Who had a son named John Ralph Macfarlane. Who had a son named Roger Thomas Macfarlane. Who had a daughter named Caroline Elizabeth....who begat... I think I've traced it enough. It was great to be somewhere where I know my family once was, I wonder if someday my great-great-great grandchildren will take a day trip wherever to see my grave? The enormity is hard to grasp.

Apart from root finding, Stirling is an amazing place. Ever heard of William Wallace and a little battle at Stirling Bridge? What about Robert de Bruce and Bannockburn? It's all one and the same. We saw the castle and the room in the castle where James I of England and VI of Scotland was born. We climbed the 246 steps to the top of the National William Wallace (Braveheart) Monument. I felt freer and more proud to be Scottish because of it.


The train ride back was full of agonizing hunger leading to Wannaburger. These were the best burgers in Britain. Large, tasty, and the ever elusive satisfying--they had it all. If they were a boy I would marry them, they were that perfect. It was good that they were filling because Leslie and I headed from dinner to our Ghost Tour. Our tour guide was Faith and she radiating creep-factor. Our tour had the perfect balance of real terror and humor. I'm not sure how I convinced Les to do a ghost walk with me, but we both had a really fun time. The vaults under the city were super creepy and so were the stories, but it was very fun to watch Faith interact with the 15 English rugby players in our group.

The next morning was very similar to the two days prior until I looked out the window. The sky which had been blue splotched with patches of grey the day before had been blanketed by a looming grey cloud. What had once been streaks of sunlight hitting our window were now streams of rain. I remembered that I was in Edinburgh and didn't let it hinder my day as I walked from the hostel to the Scottish National Gallery and then to Scottish Parliament.

I've always felt as though Scotland is rather like a toy government. The English let them have their Stone of Destiny, they have their own currency (which is really like Monopoly money that people accept so it counts as having a value), and they have their own little parliament. This feeling was heightened as I walked through the Scottish Parliament building, especially in the main room debate room of Parliament because it really did feel like a play government. Which is really quite sad to think about--that this nation was once a great threat to England and now it's just like a doll's country.

We left parliament to visit Chocolatesoup a great place where we got drinks and sundaes. Leslie and I bought t-shirts from a stand out front before we headed to the Scottish Museum, there were some seriously cool and seriously old things there. Our train ride home was filled with a three hour tournament of family Pounce which included an offer to sing 'Love at Home' to us.

My Scot fest ended with Macbeth at Shakespeare's Globe. I won't give a review of it here because I'm still not sure how I felt. It was entertaining and it was bloody, including writhing bloody corpses amongst the groundlings. Still, I was able to see through the gallons of red corn syrup and the torrential downpour of Macbeth's saliva on my face to fall in love. With Malcolm. The Prince of Scotland. He was beautiful, rugged, noble, brave, and Scottish. In other words, he was all I want in a man. I was in love from the first word he said in his flawless Glaswegian accent and I knew that it was meant to be. He even looked at me. The fact that he's a little old, I'll never see him again, he is unaware that we're going to be married, and the rest of the students are also in love with him are mole-hills next to the mountain that is our love.

In more serious terms though, I've learned this week:
1. I find Scottish accents ridiculously appealing, as in attractive.
2. It's good to be proud of where you come from AND where you are now.
So I'll end with the Macfarlane clan motto
This I'll Defend

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Culture and the boy who never grew up

"All children grow up--except one."

Thus begins my favorite book, play, story--whatever you call it, I love it.



This week I saw a performance of Peter Pan at the Barbican Centre performed by the National Theatre of Scotland. This was not the Peter Pan I've grown up with, it was really really dark and mysterious. It was unlike anything I've seen before. Yet I loved it. Something about it was so wild and tragically sad. The play is set in Victorian Edinburgh, Tinkerbell is a ball of fire, and Peter is completely scots. I'll admit a part of me really wanted them to sing "I don't wanna go up" but I could look past that. This performance was spectacular. One of my London favorites.



This play served as the perfect preamble to our Edinburgh trip this week, and fit into my week of cultural betterment including: Eurydice at the Young Vic, the London Philharmonic at Royal Festival Hall, and Disney's The Lion King.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Wild Wild West Trip

The funny thing about a blog is that (much like a journal) it's actually no good if you never write on it.

Our new students arrived without a hitch and they aren't Winter--but in a good way. Variety is the spice of life and I'm glad to have it. I'm excited by the prospect of a new group of students, and equally excited by the new sites we're going to.

The Wild West Trip was an adventure. It was full of some favorite repeats and some great new sites.

We left London with full suitcases, charged batteries, and more than one bag of Haribo. Optimistic for the future. First stop?

Chawton.

Home of Jane Austen, and the building where she wrote or edited all of her major works. This was my second visit, but it was equally remarkable to the first trip. I love Jane Austen. Cliché I know, but her stories are so wonderful. The older I get the more I appreciate them. This visit was nice because they had costumes from the most recent Emma scattered throughout. I love Emma. The story is my favorite. The man is my favorite. The heroine is the most like me--or so says Catherine Anne, I'm not sure I believe this, but I suppose the similarities are there.

"With all dear Emma's little faults, she is an excellent creature. Where shall we see a better daughter, or a kinder sister, or a truer friend? She has qualities which may be trusted"


We re-boarded the coach for the short drive to Winchester. This is one of my favorite towns out of London, and one of my favorite Cathedrals. It's also home to my favorite McDonald's in Britain. This may sound odd, but I've become quite the connoisseur in these past few months. This one is great, it has ketchup AND barbeque sauce on tap. Yes, these are the things I miss about home.

Our magical West Bus next took us to Bath. Pronounced BAAAAhhhth.

We spent the night at a hostel here, which was great because it allowed us more time in this fantastic city. It was less than great because let's face it, it is a hostel. Ew, gross. We visited the Roman Baths, Bath Abbey, the Palladium Bridge, and the Assembly Rooms. Before waking for the next equally great day.

Day Two found us in Glastonbury.
Weird town. Supposedly King Arthur was buried in the Abbey alongside Guienevere. King Arthur holds a special place in my heart. Every summer I have to watch educational videos for my mother. A few summers I watched 10 hours worth of King Arthur videos. He apparently also holds a spot for hundreds of others. Glastonbury is the site that a bunch of people consider to be Avalon, the mythical island Arthur disappears to. Which makes Glastonbury a hub for mystics, witches, and the like. We hiked up the Glastonbury Tor, to the site where Joseph of Arimathea supposedly brought the Holy Grail, and Merlin may or may not have worked magic.



With all this, I really liked Glastonbury. I guess I'm okay with the whole mysticism thing. I sort of wish I were a witch--like a real one. Maybe someday....

We took the short drive to Wells to see the Cathedral.


Complete with a Cathedral cat named Louis.



Then we drove to Ilfracombe where we spent the night. I had almost forgotten how much I love the beach. I love the smell of sea-water. I love the wind. I love the easy-going attitude of people who live at the beach. I love the water. I love it all. And I loved this little town. We bought fish and chips and watched the sunset. Delightful.



We even met some locals... as spoken by the teenage boys in Ilfracombe:
"Jay-walking! That's an offense!"

"Sir, will you cure me of my addiction to smoking weed?"

As my mom noted, these kids WERE singing Journey--so they were pretty classy.

Day three started at Tintagel.

A ruined castle on the coast, legend has it that it was the site of the court of Uther Pendragon--King Arthur's father. It also has stunning cliffs, caves, and views.
I loved this place. I even bought a key as a souvenir.
We finished in Exeter, then finally made the drive home to London. I love home. I love London.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

In Love With the 80's



If you've ever discussed music with me, you probably know that I love Relient K. I also love the 80's making this song effectively my anthem. This past Saturday night, I went to an 80's themed stake dance, which was actually right up my ally.

I can't decide if this was better or not as good as Stake Dances in Provo. It was better because let's face it. I hate stake dances. I abhor them. Every since the fiasco at the August 2009 back to school dance where everything went downhill I have steered clear. But this dance was a horse of a different color. I had the best time. It was fun to dress up and be 80's and goof around and spend time with the kids in the ward here. I love them all and will really miss them in a few months, even though I haven't known them very long.

But this stake dance was also not quite as good. I had fun it is true and I don't usually back home which should make this the best stake dance ever. But it was weird to be at a stake dance with so few people, stake dances back home are packed! But it is probably a good thing that there were less people. Who needs them anyways?

At any rate, I'm not hesitant to throw it away to fall in love.... with the 80's.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Sixteen Candles



Yes. It has finally happened. And the sad thing? I don't feel any different, not at all. I don't know what I expected though, birthdays are more of a symbolic change than a literal one, but as far as they go, mine was a pretty great one.

I feel like the fates were conspiring to make it great. Which is good news really, because due to a series of unfortunate seating arrangements in sixth grade I've been convinced that they hated me. Turns out they don't, the first evidence of this is:

Eyjafjallajökull. Yes, that is a real word--well supposedly. Pronounced as “ay-yah-FYAH’-plah-yer-kuh-duhl”. Like I said, this really is a real word, I didn't make it up out of my head. Eyjafjallajökull is the name of the Icelandic volcano which has been "causing a hellacious mess all over the world". I didn't make up that statement either, it was a real headline. So what could be good about a volcano that is stranding hundreds of thousands of people including my sister and all of our students? The answer: as long as they're stranded, they're stranded HERE. Lucky that an act of God allowed my friends to stay for my birthday, right? This is why we love Eyjafjallajökull.



The second reason I know the fates love me is because of my leg. Every birthday I hurt myself without fail. In second grade I got whacked in the mouth with a tennis racket during P.E., I spent the rest of the day changing my gauze and drinking various milkshakes courtesy of my dad. Last year, I fell subject to the worst sunburn of my life. This year, I tripped. That's all. I tripped walking up the escalator at Charing Cross underground station, and was caught by a very nice man (presumably a stranded tourist) before anything was caught in the escaltor. It was very, very fortunate. I mean, I still had to walk away with various underground patrons laughing at me, but I was fine. Michelle Erickson and I laughed it off and I got my injury out of the way very early this year, probably without scarring.



Evidence no. 3 the great day I proceeded to have from that point on. We met up with Anna, Arrin, Jake, Karalyn, and Karli at Trafalgar Square for the Holland Festival. We had no idea what it was, but it wasn't quite what we expected, even so I had a great time, just the atmosphere, and ambience. There were giant orange clogs to take pictures in, free beer, children's crafts, an outdoor concert by a pretty okay band called Go Back to the Zoo, old men dressed like Elvis creepily dancing, pole vaulting, and orange merchandise. Over all it was tremendous. We ended up watching pole vaulting for probably close to an hour, and I'm pretty sure that the pole vaulters thought we were in love with them, which a little bit we were. They all had very attractive figures, seeing as they were very strong. We even learned some of their names like Nick, who as Anna put it was the best one. Or Andy, who needed to go ProActiv.


General ambience


Andy pole vaulting

We left the festival after Nick failed us by pulling the standard down with him, and we proceeded on a very long walk to Borough Market which was excellent per usual. I got a pork, applesauce & stuffing sandwich on a baguette and a freshly pressed apple cranberry juice. Anna bought an evil veggie burger that gave her food poisoning--the low point of the day.

Next highlight was presents. Cliche I know, but I really got everything I wanted this year. I got a great new notebook from Arrin, Jemimah Puddleduck stuff from my parents and Leslie, £5 to Ben's from the Coopers and lotion, a Cath Kidston purse, a Longchamp Le Pliage bag, and a care package full of "American" things from my grandma--skittles, starbursts, girlscout cookies, sour patch, the works, absolutely great.

I finished the day with cake with the students, and went blissfully to bed happy and loved.

And that was it, no "Super Sweet Sixteen" party, no car, no dating... and I am fine with all of that. I may even prefer it... weird I know.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables



I know that this is a little early, but its arrival is eminent and I like to be prepared. I also know that it's a little dramatic, but hey that's life. It is extreme--no one is dead. But the students were supposed to leave tomorrow morning before an act of God kept them in our company for an indeterminate period of time, and I am not looking forward to it--that is the leaving part. I went down this morning for breakfast and the tables were empty. The students were all asleep in their beds in their own rooms. In most places this wouldn't be a strange sight, but before yesterday, there was always someone at these tables, studying, laughing, and singing "We're Not Gonna Take It" in preparation for finals. But this morning I was greeted by silence.

Last night, I saw 39 Steps. It was fantastic, so funny and just perfect. The only thing it wasn't was Les Mis. I love Les Mis. I went on Monday with Eliza and I have been singing/listening to the songs since, it was seriously affecting my Shakespeare studying. A bunch of people went last night, and I was very, very close to going with them. Then I decided that it might be a little excessive to see Les Mis twice in one week... so rather I enjoyed 39 Steps, and also Richard Hanney and his rather attractive pencil moustache.



Which is for the better really, because Leslie and Anna waited at the stagedoor to meet Barricade Boy, a.k.a. Enjolras, a.k.a. The Boy of my Dreams; and they said he was a jerk, he wouldn't even take a picture with them. However, I didn't witness this for myself so I can still believe him to be the perfect man, which he is. As Laura Marostica said, it's not just that he's good looking, which he is. And it's not just that he's a great singer, which he is, it's that he believes in what he stands for so strongly.



Do you hear the people sing?

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

THE LAST WEEK

Obsession/Love no. 1:




These people.

I love our students, the Coopers, Susan, the Shulers and my family.
Unfortunately, the semester ends on Saturday and our students need to be gone by noon that morning. I will miss every single one of them, and Susan as she heads out with them.

I'm remaining optimistic. Maybe our new students will be like clones of Winter 2010.

I have thoughts...

I could write a blog. It makes sense right? This has recently come to me for multiple reasons:
  1. I seem to be opinionated--maybe a little too opinionated, and it may be a good idea to find an outlet
  2. I am living in London, and let's face it, I may never do anything this exciting ever, ever again.
  3. I am surrounded by BYU students who LOVE blogs
  4. It seemed like a fun idea
So here goes nothing...