Problems With "The City of Bones"

Summer used to be one non-stop party. I guess, when done right, it still is. With only 6 weeks of true "summer" between spring and fall semesters, it's not even worth going job-hunting. It's always hard to move back in under Mommy and Daddy's roof after spending so much time on our own, but not having a job to get me out of the house makes it even harder. Thankfully Dad is out at work and Mom was volunteered to go up to marching band camp as a chaperone with the younger sisters, so I have the house to myself. It is all of the independence of having my own apartment up at school again, but with air-conditioning, free rent, a fridge stocked with food, and 2 adorable puppies to cuddle with. With so much free time on my hands, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
So, the tentative plan for today:

• Get the dogs out for a walk
• Clean up the kitchen
• Start a load of laundry
• Finish up "City of Bones"

 I used to be able to plow through a novel in a matter of hours, but then that thing called Real-Life kind of interrupted my nerdy tendencies. My sisters are still able to ready like it's their day job--mostly because they don't HAVE day jobs--and therefore always have a stack of books I need to read whenever I come home. They're bound and determined to see the new movie when it comes out. Therefore I have been mandated to finish the book. I'm patiently plodding through it, but thus far I can't say that it's my favorite. I'm not too far into it, so I hope that the pace picks up a bit because it's been a lot of talking and not much Shadowhunting thus far.

Any opinions on the book? DOES the pace pick up?? I'm not very far into it--they're just barely discovering that Clary has a spell placed on her to block her memories so they're off in some carriage thing to go get that taken care of--so don't reveal too many big spoilers but... it gets better, right? :-/

Thoughts on Humility

I, like many students, had to read Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea" in high school. The symbolism used in that story was powerful, don't get me wrong. But the basic plot-line of 'man goes fishing' got a bit tedious for me personally. As a girl living in Suburbia, California my fishing expeditions were quite limited (i.e: never happened. Yup, never in my life have I ever been fishing and, after reading that book, I'm not dying to go).

One of the parts of that novel that I distinctly remember is when the old man is bartering with God for his life--he offers to do a certain number of Hail Mary's in order to get something that he wants (I can't remember if it's to catch the fish or just to survive...) and I remember being a little skeptical at that. Even at sixteen, I questioned that approach to prayer. I wasn't raised Catholic so I've never said a Hail Mary or the Lord's Prayer in my life.

But bartering with God...can you do that?

I haven't thought about that in YEARS. I mean honestly, I haven't thought about reading that book in AP English 3 in Mr Warren's class since I left that classroom on the last day of junior year. So why the heck was that what was going through my mind at 4 am this morning?

Waking up in pain is awful. I swear that physical pain gets about 10,000x worse in the wee hours of the morning. There might be some psychological research to back me up on this--maybe it's because you're so overly tired that your senses are just heightened? Or maybe it's because you're just already so upset about losing sleep that it seems worse than it is? I've no idea. But pain between the hours of midnight and 6 am is much more excruciating than any other window of time--which is odd because my broken arm, broken finger, and appendicitis all happened during daylight hours but I swear the pain pales in comparison.

My neck felt sore when I went to bed last night but I woke up at like 4 in the morning with my right shoulder, neck, and head all in pain. I lay there and tried to get comfortable, but I felt like there was this huge pinched nerve in my neck and shoulder topped off with a pounding headache. Ow.

Waking up in the wee hours of the morning is weird anyways. You never want to be too awake because then it becomes impossible to fall back asleep, but you have to wake yourself up to a point of consciousness so that you can distinguish between what you were dreaming about and what is actually happening. In my case, I had to make the distinction at 4 am that I was home at my parent's house and as not in fact having a sleepover at my best friends' girlfriend's house.

Trying to walk the fine line between sleep-walking and fully-awake, I went out to the kitchen for some Advil and an ice-pack to lay on. I crawled back in bed and was just in agony. I have no a clue as to what I did, but holy Hannah it was painful.

"Heavenly Father...I really need to sleep tonight. Can you please just take this pain away from me so that I can get some sleep?"

That's when I started to get profound and deep at 4 am.

This has to be one of the most common prayers all around the world.

I don't pretend to be naive enough to believe that everyone in the world turns to a higher power during painful sleepless nights. Atheists have their own way of coping, I'm sure. But at that moment...I would have read scriptures for 8 hours in the morning if it meant that the Advil would kick in faster and let me fall back asleep.

It was at that moment when "The Old Man and the Sea" flooded my mind and I suddenly had complete and total empathy for the old man. At our weakest and most vulnerable moments, we lose all of our pride and turn to the Lord with complete and utter submission. We will do anything that He asks of us if it means that we receive His help and His protection.

It's not bartering at all. It's humility.

Martin Luther, the Reformist who nailed his 95 Theses on the door of the Catholic church, had a similar experience. When traveling through a lightning storm, he swore to become a monk if the Lord would spare his life. There are many men who fought in wars overseas who came home and devoted their life to God or became baptized into different denominations of churches for the very same reasons.

"Why do bad things happen to good people?"

Because sometimes we refuse to accept His help and make the changes we need to make without being pushed. When there's nothing more we can do for ourselves, we turn to the only person who could make it better and we're willing to do whatever it takes to qualify for His help.

"So...have you put your mission papers in yet?"

Have you put your mission papers in yet?
Are you thinking about a mission?
Why aren't you going on a mission?
You'd be a really great missionary--you really should think about going.

This may not be the most righteous of attitudes to have on the subject, but it truly is driving me NUTS how many people keep asking these types of questions. But first and foremost on this topic: if you're going to ask, ask ME.  

Going on a mission is a personal decision that is made after a lot of time and thought and is not one that my parents can/should make for me. I promise I don't bite. If you have a question about my life (i.e: are you engaged? are you dating? is there a man? is there a mission?) then don't ask my Mommy and Daddy. Pretty pretty please with cherries on top. I don't think I'm intimidating. I think the handful of people with these questions have probably seen me in one awkward scenario or another and know that I'm really not a scary person. I don't know what the reasoning would be for asking my parents rather than asking me. Facebook, cell phones, email, talking in person...all are socially acceptable methods of communication in 2013. Heck, I even respond to snail mail--so 'convenience' is not a valid excuse. The only other idea I can come up with is that these people are feeling too uncomfortable/insecure/awkward about asking these types of personal questions. I don't know if those are necessarily the right descriptors--but you know what I mean: you feel uneasy asking me personally and therefore rely on 3rd person communicators. If that's the case (I'm not saying it is, I'm really only guessing)...then you're probably right and it's none of your business in the first place. 

That being said, I have to admit that it makes me smirk when I hear that people are asking my parents for the details of the state of my love life. I mean...really? I think Mama knows the vague colorless outline of what's going on (aka: NOTHING), but did you sit down and fill your parents in on the state of your romantic business at 20? If you did...kudos to you, but I think you're weird.  

Don't get me wrong, my Mom and I are close and I tell her a lot but I really don't sit down and share every single detail of how I feel about every single guy in my life--especially the ones I might be interested in. I'm kind of private about that stuff-----which is why you don't see me word-vomiting all over Facebook. When something substantial actually happens, fear not. I'll be all over puking joy and giddiness all over Facebook and you'll be fully aware of it to the point of wanting to shoot me. Until then, let's all just take a deep breath and chill. I'm quite happy (gleeful, even) to have escaped being a teenage bride at BYU-I-Do. I'm in no rush to get married, but I leave it in the Lord's hands to set the pace of my life how He will. If you've got a problem with that, that's between you and Him.

So are you going on a mission, Sydney?

I can sum all of this up in one, short concise word: NO.
  I am not. I've tried to dance around with "well, no not right now" or "maybe later" but I really don't feel that's entirely honest. Upon my last conversation with the Lord on the matter (which was yesterday, for all of you nosy busy-bodies), it was not a "not right now" or "maybe later". It was just a flat-out NO. At this point in my life, I am not planning on serving a mission on my own--maybe with my husband but that's a completely different stage of life. If that answer changes, I'll let you know. But until then it is a NO.

This is not because I am any less worthy or less righteous than any other good sister (or elder) who are either currently serving or somewhere along the process of preparing to serve. Guys, I promise I love the Lord. It's not a question of that. I promise I'm not going inactive and becoming this heathen. If it were up to me, I'd be putting my papers in today. But I'm not the only one involved in this decision and that is a fact that I am eternally grateful for.  Let me walk you through this decision of mine as much as I can. You can choose to accept this decision, or not, I don't really care. Your opinion will not change the facts. I don't care if you agree or not. At the end of the day, I don't really need your acceptance on this one.

Let me take a moment and apologize for the antagonistic snarky attitude radiating off of this post. I don't think this animosity is really directed at any one person specifically. This is addressed to all of the dozens of people who have thought it necessary to tell me their plans for my life since the mission age was changed last October. This has been building for a while and it needs to be said because I can guarantee I'm not the only girl out there like this. Some of these people with great plans for my life were really just acquaintances that were pretty easy to ignore. Some of these people were very close to me. And it hurts. A lot. 

Nobody likes to be told what to do--I'm the most indecisive person in the world, but even I get bothered when someone oversteps their bounds and tries to force their opinions on my life down my throat. I think it's universally uncomfortable and we all just hate it. So can we all agree to stop? There's a fine line between a suggestion and forcing it upon someone. If you can't see the difference, then you probably should just hold your tongue all together.

Have you always known that you weren't going to go on a mission?

No, not at all.

For those of you who don't know, girls in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints being allowed to go on missions at 19 years old is a new thing. The policy was changed last October: boys could leave at age 18 (rather than 19) and girls could now leave at age 19 (rather than 21). Before this change, there was a sort of social stigma accompanying sister missionaries. Nobody deny it--it's true. Well, if you're 21 and that frumpy spinster with absolutely no marriage prospects then I guess the best desirable option in your pathetic 'forever alone' life is to serve a mission. Some of the girls I know who served at 21 were some of the most inspiring girls I had ever met. They were amazing, through and through. But still...there was always this tongue-in-teeth way of smiling at them like "oh bless your soul, you couldn't find a husband'.

For me personally, I was never one of those girls who grew up planning on becoming a missionary. The life plan since about age 3 was "go to a church school, find a husband, get married, get a degree, and raise a family" (not necessarily in that order--degree could definitely always come before the hubby). When people asked me about a mission, my answer was always pretty simple: "eh, we'll see where I'm at when I'm 21". I think a lot of girls had that idea. Lots of dating and marriages happen in the LDS community between 18 and 21 for a good percentage of the girls, and I wasn't about to rule that out for myself. Despite all the awkardness and sass, the returned missionary Prince Charming dream was very appealing (and still is!). A mission would come if those original plans didn't pan out.

I remember the first time a mission ever seriously crossed my mind was in seminary my senior year. We were watching a documentary-ish type movie (I don't remember the title but it wasn't full-on "The District" but it wasn't "The Best Two Years" either...somewhere between those two types of missionary movies) about missionaries and the sister missionaries were really highlighted. That was the first time it really piqued my interest. I was like "yeah...ok...that would be truly amazing. I'd like to do that" as compared with some of my female classmates who were either "yes this is what I've been dreaming of my whole life" or "heck no, bring me a man and let's make babies!" I was much more lukewarm about the idea, but getting warmer.

So how do you know that you're not going on a mission? You're not engaged are you?

No, I'm not engaged nor am I seriously dating to the point where I will be engaged anytime soon. That's not the reason. So chill. 

I can remember exactly where I was sitting when the age change was announced for missionaries. To put it in perspective when all of this happened last year: I had been 19 for about 4 months and was in my third semester of college at BYU-I. Life was pretty good. The last guy I was seriously interested in had been out on his mission for a few months. Things were going pretty well there and we had agreed to see what happened when he got home. I had point-blank told him that if I was single when he got home and things didn't work out with him, I was going on a mission. But that was something I didn't have to worry about for another two years or so.

I was in my apartment at school, curled up in a blanket and taking notes like a good little girl. It was the first session of conference so I was super jazzed and ready to go. I had Monkey Bread in the oven that I was checking periodically and I was in a good mood. President Monson started talking, welcoming everyone to conference blah blah blah and then HOLY-COW-THE-MISSION-AGE-WAS-JUST-CHANGED.

Girls can go out on missions at 19.

Immediately my mind started racing: I could go on a mission now and be home by the time The Boy got home and then we could see if things worked out and I wouldn't have to choose between the two and ohmygosh I think I really want to go and this would be amazing and holy cow holy cow holy cow.

In that 1 second, on a scale of 1-10 of wanting to go on a mission I was honest-to-goodness at about a 17. I was SO PUMPED. I didn't realize how badly I wanted to serve until I was given the opportunity.


All of this happened within a literal 5 second window of the announcement being made. President Monson hadn't even started his next sentence before I knew that I wanted to go and I wanted to go NOW.

And that's when I got my answer.

This huge tremendous NO. 

I heard it and I felt it. It was like a sledgehammer hit me on the top of the head and shook me all the way down to my toes. I think I even looked up like "what the heck just happened?"

Never in my life have any of my conversations with the Lord been that immediate and that direct. I hadn't even thought to pray about it. I just had the desire to drop everything and go and listen to the call from our prophet. And the Lord told me no before I even asked about it.

I'm stubborn, I admit it. But I'm also hugely indecisive--especially when I'm emotionally overwhelmed. I don't think I could have arrived at that answer on my own without weeks and weeks of stress and tears. It was an enormous blessing to have it that immediately.

Don't get me wrong, I was shocked. It was like getting the wind knocked out of me: unexpected and painful. I got up to check the monkey bread in the oven and I prayed about it like "...ok...no but I really want to go". And the Lord didn't change His answer. It was so fast and so direct and so unavoidably obvious that I didn't question it and I still don't. I didn't like it, but I knew that I had gotten my answer.

I'm pretty sure I was numb throughout that entire session of conference. I had people texting me asking if I was going to go, or telling me that they were going to go. That session of conference hadn't even finished before I had to start telling people that: yes, I want to go...but no, I'm not.

If you know my Dad, you know what a fan he is of missionary work. Calling home to say that "I'm not going on a mission" is possibly one of the hardest things I've had to do. I cried a lot that day. Later it turns out that hormones SUCK and were ganging up on me--so that made me feel a little bit less like an emotional psychotic freak. But it was hard. Really really hard.

Why was it so hard? If you have faith in your answer then shouldn't you just know that everything is going to work out alright for you and that the Lord is mindful of you and has a plan? 

HA!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, I knew that I was doing the right thing and that I would be blessed for it. That doesn't meant that it didn't suck to have to open Facebook for the next 2 days and see what felt like EVERYONE posting about putting in their mission papers. That doesn't mean that it didn't really hurt to see the disappointment and/or judgmental "oh apparently you're not all that righteous of a woman" face whenever I had to awkwardly explain to someone that no, a mission is not in the cards for me (yes, that facial expression is a real thing). Like I said, I was at about a 17 or 18 on the 10-point scale of 'wanting to serve a mission'. And yes, I knew that the Lord would take care of me. Faith got me through it. But nobody ever said that was easy.

If you want to know what it felt like, go watch the first half an hour or so of "Captain America".  I've jumped on the whole superhero bandwagon without any iota of knowledge about the comic books, so to me the movies were just plain fun. I thought "Captain America" was a little long and Mr Red-Face was a bitttttttttt too much for me (I get the whole 'suspension of disbelief' thing, but I could only suspend it for so long)--but anyways, I digress!

"Captain America" is the first example that comes to my mind, but I'm sure there are dozens of other stories out there, of this very basic storyline: there is a call to serve sent out and despite an immense desire to serve, he isn't accepted and therefore feels inadequate and judged by those around him. In most plots, this call to serve is a declaration of war or a draft but in my case it was the lowered age change. For Captain America (whose name I forget and am too lazy to Google), his problem was solved by becoming the world's hottest--I mean BRAVEST--super soldier. He got to fight, though not in the way that he was originally intending.

I have no doubt this is the Lord's plan for me, but sometimes it's really stinking hard to keep that positive attitude when all of the menfolk are rushing off to sign up for the draft, and all of the womenfolk want nothing to do with pitiful little you because they want to hold out their heart for those brave few willing to sacrifice everything for the cause and you don't even measure up in their eyes. Ok, in this case it's WOMEN who are going out to sign up and it's the MEN who aren't willing to give a girl a shot if she doesn't have the title RM on her resume--but I think you understand the metaphor I'm attempting to make.

There was all of this 'missionary fever' and it seemed like everyone was rushing out to join the draft to answer the Lord's call...and then there was me. The case can be made that most of these feelings of inadequacy were all just in my own head and that's probably true--to a point. There are always those few choice individuals that smile and say nothing but sweet words, but their condescending tone of voice and judge-y eyes told a whole different story. I think the response that grated my nerves the most was the sigh and the "oh well, you can go with your husband" when I expressed my desire to serve but my decision to not. A mission at 19 in vastly different than one when I'm with my husband and we're both retired. Please do not try to equate the two. Both are good and both are very important in the Work. Don't try to placate me by telling me that my desire to serve at 19 will just roll-over until I'm able to at like 65. It doesn't work like that and it just irritates me.

I think one of the most powerful images in "Captain America" is when poor lil ol' Captain (ok no seriously, what is his name?!) is ditched at the fair by his handsome friend and the 2 dates they brought along. The only party that Captain is looking for is a pity party and he stands very lonely in front of this window that has army uniforms in it. It's a display meant for kids, but he stands (on tiptoes) in this certain spot and in the reflection it looks like he's wearing the uniform.

 He can see the future that he wants for himself: he wants to sacrifice himself and be like everybody around him who is dutifully answering the need for volunteers. But he can't. His limitations were physical, and mine are spiritual.

Ok so where the heck are you going with this? Do you want us to feel sorry for you because you're left out?

Heck no! Don't feel bad for me at all. It was a rough few weeks (and months) but I am at peace with it now. I know that I'm doing what I need to be doing. Not all of us women were called to be missionaries. It is perfectly ok to not go. It's not expected of us by the Lord and therefore shouldn't be expected of us in Mormon culture.

Maybe the Captain America metaphor was a bit too whiny, but my point is this: the decision to NOT go on a mission is probably harder in a lot of cases than the decision to go. So next time you feel yourself looking over the girl YOU feel should be on a mission and starting to get a little preachy or judgmental DON'T. Unless you are in some position to be gaining revelation for her (and being a teacher in Relief Society doesn't count), then keep your opinions to yourself. Support her. Because it can be hard to be the girl at home.

Do you still feel all Captain America-y or are you happier now?

Thankfully, I do believe my Captain America days are behind me. It definitely was a period in my life and it wasn't very fun, but that's over now. In one of my online classes I took in the winter, I was reading in the Doctrine and Covenants where the Lord is speaking to Hyrum and basically saying "Thanks but no thanks" on his desire to serve a mission.

That hit me really hard. So hard that there were tears (and I don't cry much). It's really devastating to have a righteous desire denied to you. Maybe it was the fact to read that I'm not the first one to have this problem is what enabled me to just...move on. It seems really stupid, but just to read and to know that I am not the first person in the world to be denied a mission because there are bigger things in store for me...it was comforting. It makes me seem really prideful and shallow, but I can't think of any other way to phrase it.

So I guess that's why I'm blogging about it now. Because we hear so much that "girls are being called on missions so that the next generation will have truly spiritually strong mothers in the last days" and I have no doubt that it is true doctrine. But it kind of makes me take a step back and be like "...so does that mean that my children will all be apostate anti-Mormon mobsters because I'm going to fail them?" And I don't believe that's the case at all. I'm doing what the Lord has told me to do and I am promised blessings because of it. My future children will not suffer because I wasn't a full-time missionary with a badge on my chest for 18 months. That's comforting.

So what's next for you then, if not a mission? Marriage? Because clearly the only reason you would be told so strongly NOT to serve a mission is because you're supposed to find a man, get married and multiply and replenish the earth.

Oh goodness. Really? That's all of the choices that I have left open to me right now? Thank you. No pressure there.

Don't get me wrong. I love the singles' ward (well...sort of). I want to make t-shirts for the YSA organization with our slogan written on it: 3 M's: Mingle, Marry, Multiply. Because clearly, if you're 20 and not mission-bound then you should be marriage-bound.

Ok, ok slow your roll. Like I said, I still love the idea of the RM Prince Charming dream. Still makes my inner 13 year old sigh like a Disney princess. I'm dating (sort of...as best that I can). And when anything substantial happens, I'll let you know :P Until then, let's all just calm down.

As a side note, it is really hard to date when the common attitude that I hear most from the eligible bachelors of the church is "well there's no one to date...all the girls are on missions".

Ahh yes, thank you for the reminder. I forgot that since I'm not on a mission, I have given up my claim to womanhood and have instead decided to transform into an un-date-able troll. Excellent, excellent :)

All joking aside, there is a boy. He's still on a mission. Missionaries are in a committed relationship with the Lord for 2 years so when he comes home and is date-able again, then you might hear more. Until then, there's not much to say.

To all the ladies who have wanted to answer the call to serve but have also felt it was not right with them: good for you. Stay firm and stand your ground when the Relief Society starts to question it. Keep reading your Patriarchal blessing and attending the temple. Continue to pray about your decision, but have faith that you'll be told what you need to. Look to the friends around you right now and see if maybe your mission is to help your neighbor. Above all, know that you're not alone in this. I get it, I really really do.

Who Are You???

Alright, so it's been a while since I've blogged. I absolutely LOVE writing...but ironically am terrible at consistently blogging and/or keeping a journal. I'm hoping to get better at this and maybe someone out there in the universe will be able to relate in some way, shape, or form.

The best way that I could think of is to start one of those "blog challenges" I see floating around Pinterest all the time. So I searched for some...but in doing so, I realized why they were called challenges. Dang, people want me to get all sorts of PERSONAL on the Internet...That's kind of intimidating... I tried really hard to find one that I felt fit my mission with this, but failed. So I'm just going to consolidate a few different challenges and make my own personal challenge!

Day One: Who Are You???

 

 Hello, world. My name is Sydney. I'm Utah-born, California-raised, and living in Idaho to go to school. I attend Brigham Young University-Idaho where I just finished my sophomore year studying Early Childhood/Special Education. As of a few days ago, I have officially left my teenage years behind me and have graduated to the roaring 20's. I have two younger sisters and two dogs named Jake and Katie whom I love dearly.  I started this blog at the beginning of the year to fulfill a requirement for my online New Testament class. So yes, the first few posts will be assignments I had to post for my professor to grade. Now, however, I want to start blogging for ME. 

I am in love with all things Disney related and also quite a big Harry Potter nerd. Growing up, I wanted to be a dolphin trainer at SeaWorld and study marine biology in college. After taking one biology class in high school I quickly realized that the science field was not my cup of tea and began to rethink my life. Having grown up loving to read and write, I entered my freshman year of college as a declared English education major. I am so grateful they don't make you stick with the major you declare as a freshman because while I love English, I think taking three different classes on grammar would probably make me want to tear my hair out.

My second semester of college, I was able to find a babysitting job 2 days a week watching the two cutest kids in the entire world. Their influence, combined with the Child Development class I was taking, made me realize that I wanted to work with kids. I want to be a Mom one day. I want to have a husband and kids. The whole front porch/white picket fence dream? Yeah, I want it. My Mom was able to stay home with my sisters and I, and I want to be able to do that with my kids. So my approach to college was not "how can I have the best career?" by any means. I was (and still am) trying to figure how I can make my studies apply and be profitable in the frame of raising a family. With this perspective, I realized that the preschoolers are my people. Please don't make me go out to a party. Let me stay in and babysit a 4 year old and I'll have so much more fun. My dad frequently asks in frustration: "Are you 20 years old, or 5?" I know it drives him nuts, but I enjoy it. I don't want a cubicle and paperwork. I want to sit on the floor and color with young kids while a preschooler tells me the story of how he thought he saw a dinosaur outside his window last night. I am 20 years old--I promise--but I like preschool. So sue me!

This is all pretty basic stuff: who are you? Where are you from? What are you studying? These are the questions I answer a million and a half times during the first week of school. If you're still reading, I guess you want more than that.

As much as I've tried to steer away from the English major world, I can't seem to escape it. Maybe it's because both my grandma and my aunt are English teachers so the nerdy-ness is literally in my genes, but I love to write. Shocker: a blogger that likes writing. Ok no but seriously, I want to be a writer. As much as I've stated that I love preschool (and I totally do)...that's not all I want to accomplish in my life. I want to write a book. Specifically in the Young Adult fiction category. I don't know if I'm any good at it, but it does come semi-naturally for me. So in-between all of the other things in my life (family, church, school, work, friends, dating hahaha funny joke), I like to sit down with my dear laptop named Gertrude (name is thanks to my dear roommate Stephanie) and write. I have about a hundred pages on the current project. Will it go anywhere? I sure hope so. But only time will tell. 

Contrary to my father's belief, there's not a lot of money in the writing world. Writers are known more for being tortured and misunderstood than they are for being wealthy millionaires. Yes, JK Rowling made a killing and she is now wealthier than the Queen of England. But she's 1 out of literally hundreds of millions. I'm not banking on that kind of success by any means. 

Other things to mention: yes, I am a Mormon. No, my family are not polygamists. No, we are not Amish. I welcome any questions you have and will answer to the best of my ability, but I might point you towards Mormon.org if your question is one that I know could be better answered by someone else. OOH! This gives me more to mention!

To all of those other fellow Mormons reading this post (seriously, if you're still reading I'll be stunned): yes, I am a 20 year old female in the LDS religion. No, I am not married. Yes, I do go to 'BYU-I-Do'. Yes, I'm fully active and a regular temple attendee. But no, I am not going on a mission. These are all topics I'll cover in other posts because it's much too long to cover here. 

So why am I blogging?

Life is an adventure. And adventures are best when shared with other people. I'm so many things all at once with so many different facets and quirks and a plethora of awkward stories that I need space and room to explore and share everything I learn and experience. I'm dorky, please just accept that fact now. I definitely don't have it all figured out, but I'm trying. And I invite you to read on about my life and hopefully you'll be able to giggle along with me because sometimes life is just plain Weird. 

This is me, Internet worlds. I am Sydney and this is my life. Come along for the ride. If it turns out good, then great. And if not, then it sure as heck won't be boring!