Finding Hope: My Story

I know, this sounds super sketchy.  You can stop reading here if you want. I am telling you, girl dates are way better than boy dates!! Now, I am not saying that I have any kind of feelings for women in that way.  I am rather partial to men and find them incredibly attractive. However, going on dates with them causes me great anxiety. There is so much to figure out.  Is it really a date, are you just hanging out, should you dress up nice or is dressing down acceptable, if I ask a boy out will he feel intimidated?  On and on and on. However, girl dates are so much easier.  I am pretty sure I have gone on two this week and will have another today.  It goes like this.  I get together with one of my gal pals.  We decide together in advance what we are doing (watching a movie in our pajamas, going to look at the lights at Temple Square, building a blanket fort and talking about the woes of girl-dom).  Then, one of us will say something l...

Sometimes, I stay up waaay past my bedtime. And then I still have to wake up at 6:45...okay, so really I stumble out of bed and into the shower around 7 but you catch my drift...and get ready for work. Then there is the insurmountable task of actually thinking coherent thoughts.  Saying sentences.  Making words come out of my mouth. This is nigh unto impossible for me...which is why I am glad that no one comes in to work until 9.  Thank the heavens.

This week has proved (proven? provolone?) to me that I hate being a girl.  I hate getting all girly and emotional once a month.  I hate feeling like it I will NOT be able to go on if I do not sit down and watch a sappy romance movie that I can cry through the end of, eat way too much chocolate, and whine about how fat I feel. I tell you, being a girl is a curse. Sure, we get to wear cuter clothes than boys and we can paint our nails and grow our hair out longer... But we also have to shave our legs on a VERY regular basis. We feel awkward and insecure and when boys don't talk to us we fall apart.  We listen to music that builds us up when we are down and that makes us feel good even on a good day.  We often live for the compliments that others give to us because we cannot seem to give them to ourselves. I want to be strong.  I want to be confident.  I don't want to feel the urge to throw sharp and pointy objects at people who are in love just...

I have been so overwhelmed lately.  I swear all of my teachers got together in a dark room somewhere before the semester started and conspired together to see how they could make my life as miserable as possible.  Add on top of that the fact that work has been stressful beyond belief right now (maybe they initiated the dark room gathering?)  and I just finished yet another wonderful DC show, and well, I am on explode mode. And I did explode...yesterday...at work...emotionally...in the middle of a meeting...it was awkward for all of us, don't you even worry about it. I am not usually a public cryer.  I like to go find a dark corner and rant and rage and cry it out.  Then I go on in life.  But seriously, TWICE this semester I have had a breakdown in the SAME MEETING at work.  Coincidence?  I think not. So I did the best thing I could think of.  I called my dad, who talked me down off the drop-out-and-start-my-own-freak-show ledge and went...

Do you ever have moments in life where you realize that you needed that slap in the face? No, no, that sounds too harsh.  Here's what I mean.  Sometimes I forget that God has a bigger plan for me.  That I am not working on MY timetable.  That no matter how much I want my life to be different, to have the white picket fence, the husband, the baby and the "perfect" life, that isn't what is next along my life journey.  Is it along there?  Somewhere, I hope.  But it is not happening today.  Or tomorrow.  Or even next Tuesday. And so instead of being all down in the dumps because yet another boy just wants to be " friends "(I am really starting to hate it when they say that.)  I am going to be okay with it.  Soon-ish anyway. Because what he is really saying is that I am amazing enough that he wants me to be in his life.  He values me as a person.  He values my opinions and wants to come seek advice from me. Is there rea...

Recently I have become addicted to "Little Things" by One Direction.  Seriously, boys, when I meet you some day I am going to high five you and thank you for changing the way that girls think about themselves. This song really hit home for me.  There are so so many little things about myself that I would want to change if I could.  Things that don't matter in the long run, but things that are easy to use as reasons that I am cough  twenty three and cough  single and cough alone. However, thanks to the lovely boys of One Direction, I have realized that those little things don't matter.  That I am an AWESOME  human being.  That we all come with our "little things".  But those little things add up to make us who we are. So, love yourself today.  Find the little things and be grateful for them.  And then listen to this song on repeat about ten times so you never forget how great you are.

I realized today, after I didn't do my homework assignment in favor of taking a much needed nap, that I have a sassy walk. I do not pull this out often, mostly because most days I stumble around this campus like the sleep-deprived zombie that I am, but I do have it. It is probably the most powerful weapon in my man-catching arsenal...I learned that today. Here I was, wearing my sassy pants, and decidedly more awake and well fed than I have been in a long while, walking from work to my last class of the day.  Sassy walking, to be honest.  I was in the groove, loving the weather and knowing that nothing could get me down today. And then, out of nowhere, a BOY starts TALKING TO ME!!  This is unheard of on campus!  You do not talk to complete strangers unless you are a weirdo...but no, this was a perfectly normal boy who happened to want to flirt with me and my sassy walk.  He wants to be a pediatrician.  I want him to find me on campus again and ask me...

This has been an exhausting weekend.  Springhaven=joy.  Springhaven=exhaustion.  Springhaven=not going to bed until 4am. I love my DC peeps. In other news, I am so grateful for some very inspired friends who have been there for me this week.  Just so in tune to what I needed this week, whether it was a movie night with three different kinds of ice cream, or home teachers who just knew that drop by visits were what I needed this week.  I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am for my Father in Heaven and the inspiration that He gives to others to help me out in my life.  Thanks friends. Watch for some big changes in my future.  Like, big.  We'll see what happens, but I am hoping for some new and exciting opportunities to start coming my way soonish.  :) Also, I love sweatshirt weather. And leg warmers on Sundays. And hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls and halloween costumes. Man, I should sleep more.  Then you poor soul...

So, once upon a time I decided that I was going to not buy pants anymore.  I had a very passionate view of how awful my body looked in my denims.  And I still stick to my guns that girls look good in skirts and should wear them more often than on Sundays. However, I have had a change of mind.  Utah gets really cold...and I need pants to keep me warm. I have had a change of heart.  One good pair of jeans really does make all the difference. And so, I have had a change of pants. Plus, now I have a good reason to wear heels on campus again...my bum looks fabulous in my new jeans with heels on!

Have you ever had a day where you just...wanted to shout out your righteous indignation at something? A few months back, I went to church at my parent's ward. I don't usually do this.  I've moved out, have my own congregation that I attend, and thus, do not attend with my parents anymore. However, I was home for the weekend and so...I went.  Because, I am a good Mormon girl, and you don't skip out on church on Sunday. Looking back, I probably should have just gone back to my apartment Saturday night. There I was sitting in Sunday School, trying to not get riled at the topic of the day.  We were talking about Alma 39 , which, I admit, would be a hard subject to teach on.  But, instead of focusing on the positives, on the teaching moments between a father and his son or the repentant nature of Corianton, the entire class kept talking about potential.  And how disappointed Alma must have been that Corianton didn't reach his potential. Oh, boy, did that ...

Story Time!! I was walking across campus on Wednesday.  I was exhausted.  I needed a nap more than I needed food or water.  It was sad, really. So, instead of a nap, I pressed on.  I stopped and got Chocolate-German-Chocolate-Crunch (or something like that) flavored ice cream.  I walked to my next class.  And as I was cutting across the Law Building parking lot...something life changing happened. I saw this boy.  Nice boy.  Sweet boy.  I smiled.  He smiled.  He said "hi."  I said "hi." And honestly, folks, I figured that would be the end of it. But it was not. I kept walking and so did he.  Then, all of a sudden, THIS happened: him: "I think you're beautiful!" me: stunned..."thank you!" him: "I didn't know what to say to you, but I thought you should know, I think you are beautiful!" And then we kept walking. I'm not kidding, this boy changed my day.  I don't know who he is or why he said what...

Now, I know what you are thinking...it is only day 4 of the semester...could I really have that much to say about it? Apparently so. Fact 1: When you wear skirts everyday, boys notice you.  They want to sit by you in class.  It is quite lovely. Fact 2: When you wear skirts, girls talk to you because you look like a super cute, super nice friend to have.  I have actually talked to people in my classes...I've never done that before now...odd I know.  But it is nice! Fact 3: Homework is boring.  Okay, maybe this isn't a fact.  But getting back into the swing of doing my homework has been hard.  I don't plan on doing any today...woops. Fact 4: Moving is awful.  Don't worry, half of my stuff is still in boxes and I only moved across the parking lot.  I'll finish unpacking...one day...when I am dead... Fact 5: When you spend more time at work than you do in class everyday, your brain starts to melt.  Seriously, I can feel it m...

I'm a weirdo.  I love birthdays.  Even at the ripe old age of (gasp) 23 and still single, I LOVE celebrating my birthday.  This time around, I've been celebrating for a week straight. Completely by accident, believe it or not. It all started when a super fun road trip fell through.  I didn't think this was going to be a blessing at first.  I was really looking forward to spending time with some really great friends, but then me joining this road trip just...didn't work out.  So, I didn't go.  I was kind of bitter about it at first.  Because that is how I approach life. Then I decided that instead I would just start celebrating my birthday early. And so I did.  And I kept on celebrating. I realized sometime on Saturday, the day after my birthday while I was setting up for the birthday party that I was helping throw for myself and some of the other awesome people who decided to grace the month of July with their birth, that this life ...

Do you ever have those days where you just want to turn to whomever made jeans and say what on earth were you thinking? Who thought it would be a good idea to take women, who are NEVER the same size, assign a size to all the curves that they come with (add in the fact that over the course of a month we change where our curves are at least once) and then expect them to pay out the wazoo for them?  I mean honestly, what were they ON? So, I am protesting jeans.  And pants in general.  And lately I am just wearing skirts.  I kind of feel like I am back on the mission, except now I am rocking some STELLAR high heels as well. I am not going to lie...I look FABULOUS in skirts.  Pencil skirts.  High waisted skirts.  Skirts that scream to the world "this is megan and she loves the curves that her Heavenly Father blessed her with" So....I am going to wear skirts until I cannot wear them anymore.  Maybe just wear them every day all year long.  W...

My insides and I are battling again.  But, I don't want to dwell on it.  Because that just makes me weepy.  So, instead, I am going to come up with my joys instead. I went and visited my dear friend Robin today, who I visit teach.  Which really means that I get to be best friends with her because someone asked me to.  Seriously, I am addicted to visiting teaching...it is a joy that I cannot get over.  Ah I love it!! Manicures by sweet ladies.  I went and got a manicure a couple weeks ago over by Smiths here in Provo.  The ladies there were just darling and made me realize that I have so much in my life.  That I have so much to be grateful for and that I am fabulous.  Seriously, love them. Swimming with my sisters.  I went to Seven Peaks on Saturday with a few of my sisters.  By the end we were all kind of cranky and the like.  But boy oh boy did we have a blast.  I got to giggle and be silly and just...be joyful....

Yesterday I felt fat.  Fat and ugly and unwanted and unlovable. Now, I know what you are going to say...Megan, you are beautiful!  Megan, don't think like that!  Megan, are you pms-ing?? I don't know.  I don't know anymore about any of those things.  But I do know that yesterday I truly had a day where I just wanted to yell at the world until my lungs fell out for making me feel like I was fat. I KNOW that the only reason I can't find jeans that I like right now is because it is summer and they don't SELL them.  I know this.  But I hate it.  Because I currently don't own any pants.  Just shorts and skirts. I KNOW that I am a daughter of god of infinite worth.  I know that He loves me more than I can ever imagine.  But sometimes, I forget. I KNOW that this stupid disease sometimes makes me all bloaty and feel gross-ey, that I have NO control over what is going on inside me other than to eat right (and let's be honest, I cou...

Once upon a time I was a missionary (you all remember that story, right?) While I was doing this missionary-thing-part-of-my-life, I got quite the email from my parents.  They told me that one of my younger sisters (I have 5.  Be jealous.), felt ugly.  So ugly in fact that she wanted to cut off all her hair so that she would look like a boy. I cried.  How could my beautiful sister feel this way about herself?  She was nine.  Nine years old and was already facing the same self-esteem crap that we are all going through.  So I got permission from the Mission President to call home.  Just to talk to her.  And tell her how beautiful and amazing and wonderful she is.  And then I started this massive project.  Where I decided that I would make books full of quotes all about how we are daughters of god, how we are great because we are girls, and on and on and on. I started this project over a year ago.  I am determined to finish ...

Lately I have been feeling...well, not such successful thoughts.  Here's why. So, once upon a time I served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints .  It was a...hard time for me.  I went out on my mission and got sick with Goob, my infected gallbladder, in December.  When did I get to get rid of Goob?  June.  I apologize to all the companions that I had during that time as I am sure that often I was...less than a ray of sunshine. So I went home for surgery.  Then I recovered and went back to the Washington DC South Mission (Northern Virginia).  And after a few WEEKS I was sick again.  Goob Jr decided to attack my body.  I had no idea what was going on.  I had no idea how to make it stop.  Worse...neither did any of the doctors.  So I came home for good in October. I served for eleven months.  I served as best as I could for eleven months, but still sometimes I still feel like I could have ...

I don't even know how to describe it.  But it is like ever since I had my last torture session  class on Thursday last week...it is like my whole life has been one big...sigh of relief.  Do I still have a final to take?  You bet I do.  Will I pass it?  Who knows?  At this point, I simply cannot bring myself to stress over anything.  I am at peace with the universe.  I have no idea how it came about.  But I am going to enjoy it! In other news, I found some super cute plaid shorts at the store today.  They fill my heart with joy. Do I own any jeans?  Nope.  I keep hoping that by the time Fall starts I will have left my Muggle status behind, learned Transfiguration and be able to turn my cute shorts into pants at will.  Or at least fix the rips and tears in all my jeans that I love but can no longer wear.  One day I will learn magic. However, I guess I should focus on learning how to research first.  Then...

So, by the end of today I will have the research proposal from...well, not heaven...finished. Don't know what a research proposal is? Neither do I. Don't know why I have to write one if I am not going to actually do the research? Yeah, me either. BUT, I will have this done.  Weeeelll...a tentative first draft done by 5:00 today.  So that I can let it simmer for a bit and then tackle it again after FHE. Okay, so my goal is to be finished by 7:00. Because it is due tomorrow by noon. I have loads of time, right? Success...ish

  1  To every  thing there is  a  a season , and a  b time  to every purpose under the heaven:   2  A  a time  to be born, and a time to  b die ; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up  that which is  planted;   3  A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;   4  A time to weep, and a time to  a laugh ; a time to  b mourn , and a time to dance; This is Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 .   But this is how it reads in my life.   eh-hem (or hem hem if you are Prof. Umbridge...right? :)  ) 1. To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven (even when you don't understand it, so quit being a whiner and just ask your Father in Heaven what you can learn from it you ding-dong.) 2. A time to be born, (check!), and a time to die, (not check, although sometimes I feel so sick it feels like I am dying......

Okay, it's been a while.  But today I wax philosophical. Last week I decided to do something very...dumb.  No, don't patronize me.  This was dumb.  I decided that I was going to try to stop taking my stomach medication because I thought that I didn't need it anymore.  I figured that since I had been doing well for such a looong time that I would be great.  Good to go.  Fantabulous. Wrong-o. I remembered what it was like to be that oh-so-innocent missionary version of myself who had to get up and get going every single day even though I felt like gremlins were having a party in my intestines.  No, that is not right.  When I get sick it feels like midget babies have decided to have a dance party and use my abdomen as the dance floor as well as the storage space for all of their party snackage.  Maybe.  Maybe that is a good description for the amount of pain that I was in. Needless to say I began to take my medicine as soon as ...

If you have had a conversation with me lately you will know...the art of studying and I are not getting along.  Our friendship has been on the rocks for a while.  I am thinking a separation is in order...and I will be pursuing this starting mid June. However, until that day comes, I have discovered some clever ways to survive the study boredom   torture  experience that I am having.  They are as follows: Take awkward dance party breaks .  I have decided this summer to perfect the art of awkward dancing.  And so, in order to do this, I simply must practice...especially when studying gets lame tiring. Read something else .  Really...no words to describe how much I love to read things OTHER than my textbook. Eat otter pops .  I may have to join a support group as a result of this one.  So many popsicles have been consumed in the last...oh...week? Go somewhere other than my apartment .  You'd be surprised at how easy it is to n...

You know how everyone and their dog has a "Marriage Board" on Pinterest? I never did. Until yesterday. Here is the tale... I was perfectly happy not pretending a wedding that I have no groom for and that I have no idea when it will occur.  (To be fair, I'm still having a hard time with this.  It's just weird to me, you know?  Alas, I digress)  But I was at work.  On a sleepy Thursday afternoon.  And what are three college age girls to do when all the responsible adults have gone off to meetings and we are left alone in the office?  Google chat with one another of course!  Rebecca and I started talking about what she wanted her wedding to be like one day (no, I do not remember how we got to that point in our conversation, just that we got there...) at which point she kindly asked me what I wanted my wedding to be like. I had no answer. No, seriously.  No answer. She was shocked.  And immediately started planning my wedding. ...

So, today I was pondering.  Okay, no, it was yesterday, I'm giving up the whole pretense that I am deep and insightful in the morning.  Heavens, I can barely stumble from my apartment to work and I have already been up for an HOUR by then.  Morning person I am not. BUT, I digress.  Yesterday I received a package in the mail.  A package, you say?  Who receives unexpected packages these days?  Not I, usually.  My parents live less than an hour away from me, so if they want to give me something, they just give it to me when I go home.  So, I was thrilled when I opened my door and found a package with my name on it.  And a return address from... Burke, Virginia. That's right folks.  My dear, darling mission companion Sister Abigail L. Holt sent me a package full of love!  I was shipped right back to all the times that we spent together opening packages that she had gotten from her family and oh what joy and love came flooding...

So...Finals suck.  like, a lot. I really do not do well under pressure.  Well, the pressure to get good grades and to do all that I should to get in to grad school.  College and I are not besties lately.  Rather, we are mortal anenemies.  Yup, spelllling strikes again. I am having a break down a day it seems.  And today I seriously was at my wits end. And I realized that even if I flunk my way out of college, I have ONE marketable skill, you know, other than entertaining those of you who read this loveliness that I spew all over the internet. I can be a secretary for the rest of my life. I'll just go out and get me a rocking wardrobe, apply all over the place (maybe even in exotic places like...California...or...Wisconsin...what, that's not exotic to you?  I've never been there.  Sounds exotic to me.)  And then I'll get a job because I have great references for my secretarial skills. There you go, back up life plan achieved. ...

So here I am, sitting on my bed, innocently taking my final (thank you take-home, open-note, open-book!), when suddenly my body decides to FREAK out.  I have never heard such weird noises coming from my innards.  Seriously.  This inner battle has been going on for a while, me vs. my tummy.  And today it thinks it is winning, what with it's awkward noises and bloating (wait, did I just admit to the internet that I am bloated.  again, awkward) and the like.  However, what my stomach fails to realize is that every time it makes one of these weird noises, I laugh.  Out loud.  I even named my stomach once.  Goob Jr.  Since my gall bladder was named Goob, and he was removed almost a year ago.  So, Goob Jr, I thank you for this entertainment.

This week has been...hard. So, what did I do to overcome?  I had free balloon day! Now, this may not make any sense to you, so, naturally, I will elaborate.  The office on campus for which I work had a student awards celebration today.  And we decked out the Nelke Theatre with balloons. However, once said celebration was done and all the students had dispersed, we had 36 balloons to...dispose of. I didn't know what to do...how do you get rid of 36 balloons in a humane (or balloon-ane) way?  So, I did what any silly person would do.  I had a free balloon day. Which meant that my dear friend Celeste and I took all of these balloons and gave them away, one at a time, to people in Brigham Square.  I am still amazed at how much these people loved our free balloon day.  I just liked skipping around handing out free stuff.  Maybe that can be my future job...free baloon hander outer and ultimate joy spreader.  I think that would fit nicely ...

Have you ever had one of those days where as soon as you wake up you KNOW that things are not going to turn out the way that you planned?  Welcome to my day today.  The whole day was...not what I had expected.  My dear friend who was fighting cancer passed away today.  Did I want that?  No.  I loved my dear friend Celeste.  She is the reason I even had a semblance of a social life through middle school and high school--she was willing to take a chance and invite a weirdo like me over to her house to play night games.  (I know, I wouldn't let me come to your house either, but sometimes people are innocent and decide to take a chance.) And now she is gone.  I've never lost a friend before.  The only people I have ever known who have died were...advanced in age. (see, I do have some tact)  Even when there have been people my age who have died, I did not know them well enough to be affected by it.  But now, I am beginning to reali...

Oh, how there are oh soooo many things that are frustrating me right now.  Life, life and more life. And I want to be angry.  I want to yell at the world "Hey, you.  Yeah you.  Go stick your finger in an electrical socket.  Go punch yourself in the kidney.  Go bite a wall while simultaneously kicking a chair." But alas, even though I rant and rave about these things, I cannot bring myself to do it. I can't tell people that I am frustrated with them because I don't want to hurt them.  I can't talk about how irritating I find things because it would hurt someone's feelings.  I can't talk about how angry I am at this illness because that would be like saying I am angry with God.  And I am really not in the mood to get struck down this week. Aaaand so, I control my anger.  How?  I goof off.  I tell silly jokes.  I say things like "go punch yourself in the kidney" so that a good friend and I can laugh about it all day l...

Okay guys, it's official.  This week was probably academically one of the hardest weeks of my semester.  Oh, and I got sick.  Oh, and I had some apartmental frustrations going on which are begging for resolution but I MAY just decide to run away from them instead.  Because I am a chicken.  I don't want to face the end of the semester.  It is too hard to deal with soooo much stress... But I digress.  I made it through this week.  I did it!  I made it to the end of the week, and I didn't kill anyone or do anything even mildly illegal.  Mind you I thought about it, but I did not do it. Sigh, Friday never felt sooo good. Success

So, I went to the BYU Devotional today.  Or the devo, as the cool kids are calling it these days. And I got to sit on the floor of the MC (or Mariott Center for those of you who don't speak the "lingo"...okay, so most of this stuff I just make up, let's be honest...) because, get this, I ACTUALLY KNEW THE PERSON WHO WAS GIVING THE DEVOTIONAL.  Not like, I had heard their name before because they are a General Authority.  No, I actually know the fabulous woman who spoke today at the BYU Devotional.  Her name is Amy Jensen, and you can watch her remarks here .  When her talk is uploaded anyway. So, I went and listened to the fabulous Professor Jensen tell us all about Media and being aware of what we are letting distract and influence us.  But, to be honest, that didn't matter much to me.  I made a decision a long time ago about media, and my stance hasn't wavered. Then she started talking about her sister who battled cancer.  And I lost it. ...

Ever had one of those days when seeing a friendly face is all you need.  Where you had a weekend of feeling like you were run over with a steam roller and even though it's a Monday, you know today is going to be better because your stomach feels the teeniest bit better.  No?  Just me?  Well then...awkward BUT!  I had one of those Mondays.  I was recovering from the weekend from health...heck.  To put it quite mildly.  My body decided that starting Thursday it would wage war against me.  Did I decide to recognize this?  No.  Not until Saturday.  And even then I didn't really understand why my body craved my bed so much.  However, I didn't mind it...until 5:30 Sunday morning rolled around and I began contemplating if it would be worth having a stomach implant.  Still a though...wonder if they do that...hmmm...research time... But I digress.  Today I just knew I needed some friendly faces.  And the day star...

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, today I decided to just be lazy.  I barely got off my bed.  I reveled in the fact that I had no where to go, no reason to put on makeup, NOTHING that had to be done right this second.  I just goofed off all day, eating junk food that I will regret later and not thinking about the future. And while I may regret it later, today I lazed.  lazied.  was lazy.  Reveled in my lazy-fair of a day. Success (Until Monday when I have to face the fact that I most certainly did not do my homework.  Oh well, a girl can dream.)

Umm..I climbed a tree today.  The first tree I've ever climbed.  ever. Here's the story.  This week was madness for me.  I barely ate, barely slept, got sick, and still kept going.  Yes, my friends, it was a Divine Comedy Show Week and my life just got super craaaazy.  So there it was, Sunday afternoon, and I was itching to take a nap.  Daylight Savings Time had kicked me in the trash...I neeeeeeded more sleep but it wasn't going to happen. And then these great boys in my ward invited us to their apartment for a cereal party.  Which then turned into an afternoon frolic and meaner through the park.  And playing on the swings.  And playing tag.   But...I climbed my first tree.  And threw things at people from the heights of this grand tree.  Because I am just that mature. I survived this week.  I am going to survive another one like it next week.  And who knows, maybe then I'll climb another tree without th...

Yesterday was an oh-so-sickly day for me.  My and my stomach waged an epic war which left me laying in my bed for most of the morning and wishing I understood more about why this whole gastroparesis thing (or as I like to call it sometimes, Goob Jr., but I'll explain that more another day) is happening to me. Then i had to put on my grin and bear it face and go to a class that I knew that I just could not miss.  And then haul my sorry sickly body to my favorite place in the world, Divine Comedy rehearsal.  These people just make my life so much more awesome.  And so, I went feeling so gross but knowing that they needed me there with all the props that I had in my car. And somehow I survived. Today, I woke up.  And surprisingly felt much better.  And then I went to my all time favorite class and got to learn more about this talk right here.  And I remembered the way I felt when I first heard this talk, sitting in a lonely LDS chapel in Virginia ...

That's the noise that went off in my head as I stared at my score on that fancy screen in the testing center.  A 93%.  I feel like the last time I got a 93% on a test here at my beautiful university, I was a lowly freshman who wasn't working.  I wasn't doing extracurricular activities like stage managing the funniest sketch comedy group ever. I did it.  I got a 93%.  And I did so with a migraine and a tummy ache.  And soggy shoes...thank you weather. It just goes to show what can happen when you force yourself to roll out of bed, out on your comfiest sweatshirt and face the world. Success.

I made it out of bed today. And then I made it to the shower.  And then I made it out of the shower and all the way through getting ready. But I almost didn't make it to class. And then I did. Success

I hate Saturday studying.  Like really hate it.  I don't know why, but it is so hard for me to focus on Saturdays. It is like all my brain wants to do is this ..................................................................................................... But today I am getting things accomplished. Success

And ate and ate and ate. Which is not good.  But that pasta was oh so delicious and I just did NOT want to stop eating my dinner.  Especially when I was in the company of such good friends! But man-oh-man was I feeling it later. And then I didn't.  I was amazed.  My body digested my dinner!  Hip hip hooray!  I wanted to throw myself a party and eat more dinner. But I didn't eat.  Because that would be dumb.

That's right world, I got up. Big deal, maybe not to you, but I've been sick for the past four days and I really just wanted to stay in bed today.  Not get up and go to class.  Not go to work.  Not shower.  Not face the world.  Not go to tap and learn a new and reallysuperfastcan'tmoveyourfeetinthatmotionatthatpace kind of dance. But I did it. I got up, and showered. Succcess

Have you ever had those days where you just don't know how you do it?  Today was one of those days. I was beat.  Run through.  Done it.  And then to top it all off, I felt cruddy.  Well, not all day, just at the end of the day when people needed me most.  And then when I had to focus in class. And right when I was feeling this uddy-cruddy-yucky-gross-wanttopassoutsoIdon'thavetofeelthisway feeling (I know, I am so complex), I remembered something my professor said this morning.  She was talking about her sister who went through so much worse things than I (hopefully) will ever go through.  Anyway, my professor said something that really stuck out to me.  "Often we aren't healed.  But we are strengthened.  We can’t give up...we have to look for the moments where we are strengthened, where the Savior fills in the gaps where we are weak, where he makes up the difference." Now, this is taken from my class notes, people, so don't judg...

Today I realized that I don't know how to spell triumph.  In fact, I spelled it truimph and did not even realize it for a whole almost 24 hours.  So instead I am going to say that I have successes because that is a word that I can spell. I'm in college.  Really I am. In other news...I got out of bed and got dressed this morning.  How is that a success, megan, you may be wondering.  Well, because I was waging a war (see, always a war...isn't my life fun to read about?) over getting out of bed and doing what I am supposed to do today, or staying in bed because my body hurt and bed is where sick people get to be when they hurt.  BUT!  I finally decided that I MUST GET UP.  I MUST WIN.  I must eat a delicious breakfast.  So I did. Success.

That's right folks, I made it an entire Sunday afternoon without a nap. Why is this a triumph?  Well, here is the reason behind this blog.  I was serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints up until October 18, 2011.  I almost made it a year on my mission before I was completely incapacitated by an illness called gastroparesis.  My mission was riddled with illness, I had to have my gall bladder taken out in June of 2011.  Now, I don't say any of this to make you feel bad for me, rather I say this because I have decided, today in fact while I was NOT taking my nap, that I was going to look for a triumphant moment daily.  What is a triumph?  Well, this is what the dictionary told me when I asked it. 1. the   act,   fact,   or   condition   of   being   victorious   or   triumphant ;   victory;   conquest. 2. a   significant   success   or   n...