I am so bored. I wish I could go somewhere for like a week. To the beach or something. I mean, I know I need to get ready to move next week... but do I really need to spend fourteen days packing? With no school and no job, my life just came to a screeching halt.

I know I shouldn't complain about being bored. But with my personality, being bored equates to doing nothing. I can't strike up any motivation to do something. I am too laidback. If I don't have a pressing agenda to follow, then all my days are filled with blanks.

On top of that, I only have eight dollars in my bank account. I checked yesterday. This startling number tells me two things: 1. no more shopping with my own money and 2. I am terrible at saving money.

Since I've got nothing great to say, let's talk about my sister. She just got a job in Rexburg, Idaho in the registration office at BYU. Out of eighty-seven applicants, they narrowed it down and chose her. She makes me proud to share the same blood.

My cousin Whitney is on a mission in Italy. I get her emails once a week and she sounds like she is loving it.

My other cousin, Taylor, is getting married this weekend in St. George. My family and I will drive up for the reception.

My friend/singing partner of several years, Amanda, will be serving a mission in Japan very soon.

My friend Max is also planning on serving a mission, but has not been assigned a place to go yet.

Oh, did I tell you Poppy got married? My former roommate tied the knot a couple months ago with a guy she had a crush on for quite a while. They make a sexy couple and their kids are going to be brainiacs.

Well, I better get on with my busy day. So much to do!

I'm lame. To all my loyal readers (hi mommy) I apologize for my summer hiatus. Days, weeks, and then months went by without blogging and I have no good excuse for it. So I dusted it off, got rid of the cobwebs, and here I am again.

The blog thing has become hugely popular lately. I think that is partly the reason why I stepped away from it for awhile. Everyone I know has one. I felt like mine was getting drowned out by the hundreds of grammatically inept voices, blathering on and on about their baby's new shoes or their husband's sexiness or the color of their hair. I feel like a writing exam should be distributed in order to qualify to have a blog, don't you? It's like pregnancy. Millions of people should not get pregnant, and yet no one is stopping them. Same as blogging. Millions should stop blogging. Immediately.

Alright, I have made some decisions about my future. Praise the Lord. It came to me in a dream---a vision, if you will---that the next chapter of my life will take place in a little town called Logan, Utah. Why Logan, Utah? Mostly because it's pretty. Beautiful scenery from every angle, in fact. Oh and I'm planning on going to Utah State University, too. I will go next fall when I have residency and major in Graphic Design while working as a photographer in a studio somewhere.

That's the plan, anyway. If I don't get hired in a studio, I'll have to resort to a mind-numbingly dull receptionist position or some other office endeavor. The reason I went back to school was so I wouldn't have to be another office bitch for someone to boss around. So let's keep our fingers crossed for a photography position...

My sister and her husband and their dog just moved to Idaho today. They drove a U-Haul the size of a house and had it full to the brim with stuff. My brother-in-law is planning to attend BYU-Idaho in Rexburg.

I only need to take two more math classes until I have my associate's degree. Can I get a hallelujah? Thank you, thank you. Getting my two-year degree in... err.. five years-ish? Pshhhh, I took breaks, okay? I did it at my own pace. Don't judge me!

How was the dance show this season, by the way? Pretty amazing dancers, and my mom grew up with Chelsie Hytower's mother. So we watched the show pretending we were all friends with Chelsie even though I had never heard of her in my life.

One more thing. I lost my phone and could not find it anywhere. So I finally looked in my car, under the seats, over the river and through the woods... uhh, yeah... and still couldn't find it. Then I heard it beep. It was in my cupholder! What? My blonde hair must have gotten in my eyes or something.

I move to Logan on August 21st. Two weeks to pack and get ready. More to come...

Books I've read recently: Life After Life by Raymond Moody (I am not afraid to die anymore), Fahrenheit 451 (very reminiscent of 1984, but not as creepy), and a bunch of psychology books that might make you think I'm crazy, so I won't mention them.

Remember when I accidentally filled my car with diesel? That was one hell of a blonde moment. I think about that every time I get gas.

I can't believe gas prices these days. Hey, that would make a good conversation starter. Everyone is likely to agree with you if you said that, and that's how you make friends: by being agreeable. Finding common ground. Or finding a common denominator, if you will.

That reminds me, I have to take a math quiz some time between now and nine a.m. I'll either do it at the crack of midnight or some time in the morning. Right now is out of the question.

I went from wanting to be a psychologist, to a hair dresser, to a graphic designer in a matter of weeks. The graphic design idea has stuck for a couple days now, so that's promising. But who knows what I might come upon tomorrow.

Wishy-washy? Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. I am sometimes, but not all the time. Then when I am, it's usually justified, except when it's not.

Anyway, my summer is all set to go. I'm taking large format photography (second time's a charm) and math 96. Words cannot express how much I hate math. I don't hate it because it's extremely difficult, because I don't think it is. I'm no math genius but I can solve an algebraic equation without too much strain.

I hate it because it requires zero amount of creativity. There is always just one right answer and no more than a couple ways to arrive at that answer. It's unalterable. Rigid. Static. Boring.

I know a girl who is getting married and she's only nineteen. This sounds young to most people, but in Mormon time, nineteen is ripe age for marriage. If you're Mormon, you have to add at least ten years to your age. So me being twenty-one and single is the same as me being thirty-one and single. That's how it feels, anyway.