might explode...

Why is it so freaking hard for people to just take care of themselves? Why is it so FREAKING hard? If a doctor gives you a medication, TAKE IT (no one can call me out on this one because I have not missed a day in over two months, and even though it's NOT working, I'm STILL taking it because the doctor told me to). If you're hungry, EAT SOMETHING. If you hurt yourself, TAKE CARE OF IT THEN, not when it gets worse. If what you're doing is going to get you into trouble, STOP DOING IT.

In short, don't be stupid. Stupidity is bad for you, and it's bad for everyone else in your life. I mean, you do have a brain. So use the dang thing.

I guess if this was just a one time thing, I wouldn't be so upset. But EVERY TIME I turn around, different people in my life have done something they shouldn't have or not done something they should have done, and it screws life up for them and everyone involved. I mean, come ON, people. How hard is it to think? And not just about how what you do effects yourself, but about how what you do effects others.

Think. Think before you act, or don't act -- contrary to popular belief, life isn't "all about me." Each of us must first do our BEST, and I mean VERY best, to meet our personal needs. It is not fair to expect other people to just drop everything and be there because we have something in our lives that we don't want to take care of.

Friends can only go so far. There comes a point where people can do no more.

That's just the way it is.

Phew. Got that out. Now I can go back to being normal (whatever that is).

don't do drugs...

One year ago, the family practitioner at the clinic handed me a prescription and said, "This is for you to use only when necessary." I read the information on the paper and didn't understand most of it (nor could I read it -- doctor handwriting). After dropping it off at the pharmacy and waiting for an hour, I received a white bag with a little bottle inside of it. When I pulled the bottle out and read the label, I was surprised to see that the pills were none other than the prescription pain medication Lortab.

In the past  year, I have only used the Lortab twice. Both times were when I honestly could not function due to the pain I was experiencing. There have been times when I was tempted to use it because my body hurt so much, but I was always able to tell myself, "It could be worse, you know. It's not really necessary at the moment."

That's what I kept telling myself yesterday, from the moment I awoke at 6am due to the pain radiating through my whole body. As the day progressed and after taking as much Ibuprofen as I could without poisoning myself, I couldn't take it anymore. 

Honestly, I don't remember much of what happened yesterday. I vaguely recall agreeing to go swimming with a friend next Monday morning on Labor Day -- at least, I think that I did. And I also vaguely remember my sister coming over to have lunch with me. And I vaguely remember someone walking on the roof of my house (they were speaking Spanish, so I think they were the roofers the complex owners hired to patch holes in the tiles). Other than that I only remember feeling like I had television static in my brain and snowflakes in front of my eyes. 

Usually when I've taken Lortab, it puts me to sleep for 12 to 14 hours. This time I didn't feel particularly tired. It was weird. It's weird today, too. I'm feeling a bit hungover. Granted, I've never actually been hungover so I don't really know what it's like, but this is just bizarre. My head is still fuzzy, my stomach hurts, and I have to focus really hard on whatever I'm doing or I cannot figure out what's going on. Not to mention driving was a terrifying experience. Hey, you do what you gotta do. Good thing it was only a 2 minute drive to work and 2 minutes back. I didn't go grocery shopping, so I was mostly smart.

The pain hasn't gone away, either. The Lortab numbed everything very well for about three hours yesterday, but then it stopped working. Fuzzy brain and seizing muscles were not pleasant. Still isn't pleasant! 

Dad told me not to take the Lortab again for awhile because "that stuff can be very addicting." To which I reply, are you serious? Why on earth would anyone want to feel like that all the time? It's absolutely miserable! It's been over 24 hours since I first took the pill and I still feel awful. It boggles my mind that anyone would voluntarily seek out a drug that makes one so very...fuzzy (it's really the only word that I can think of that describes the way this feels).

I'd be a terrible drug addict. I get very tired of the side effects and never want to take the stuff again. It helped for a little while -- it was so great to not hurt for a few hours. I'm kind of rethinking the necessity of the pain killer though. I'd almost rather deal with the pain than take the drug. The after effects suck.

As a side note, I feel so anxious all of the sudden. Really insecure and kind of freaking out, but I don't know why. Actually, it's almost funny -- the wind is blowing and whistling around my house, and I keep jumping at noises and stuff (like that's new?). Alternately jittery and sluggish. 

Don't do drugs. They screw you up. Even if they appear necessary, I'm thinking that my original philosophy is the better way to go: whenever possible, do not take pills. Medication doesn't solve your problems!

and then it went to pot...

I worked the evening shift today. One of the girls texted me and asked if I would cover for her. I didn’t want to…I wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to stay in bed. Buuuuuuut, I figured it would be good to get out of the house, and heaven knows I can use the money. After about two hours, though, I decided that it would have been a very, very good day to just stay in bed. I was just so freakin' clumsy.

First, I dropped an open cooler on the grass and tried to catch it, succeeding only in having the lid slam down on my hand. Which is now bruised. EW. And ouch.

Second, I poured strawberry flavoring into the tiger's blood container, realized my mistake, and tried to pour the liquid back into the right bottle. While trying to do that, I lost my balance and spilled the red juice all over my left hand and arm. That hand is currently dyed pink.

Third, I sprayed myself in the face with a jet of shaved ice because I didn't raise the cup up fast enough. That was in front of a cute guy who was talking to me and asking me questions and stuff and I totally iced my face.

Fourth…I don’t know how it happened but the mango and orange-pineapple flavors went AWOL right at the same time and just like, jumped off of the shelf. Juice everywhere, including on me.

Fifth, while I was refilling the cherry flavor, the flavor mix bubbled up and sprayed all over my pants.

Sixth, I tripped on a cooler and went flying into the cash register, pushing the "total" button and making the receipt spit out like crazy.

Seventh, I smacked the back of my head on the ice chest out back while pulling out another cooler full of ice. Then the lid of the ice chest slammed shut on my back, and I lost my grip on the cooler and dropped it. As it fell, it took half of me with it. I’m sure that the people sitting at the table eating their snow cones enjoyed my impromptu slapstick routine. It probably would have been better if I’d had two more days to rehearse.

By the end of the shift I was freaking embarrassed and wondering what was wrong with me. I just felt sick and disoriented and tired and dizzy, and then everything attacked me.

I must have magic powers or something. I destroy things just by looking at them. And yes. All of this really did happen. Truth is stranger than fiction, friends. I would know. I live truth. My life, no matter what I want, will never be fictional. Which is sad. I really could use an editor to fix my mistakes before they're published for the world (or at least my friends and family) to see.

Anyway. It was definitely an interesting shift. Makes me sooooo excited for Monday.

blaster bolts...

There's nothing like a three hour Nerf war to improve your aim and accuracy.

Unless of course you took a shooting class at a legit shooting range. Then you'd probably improve even more. But for my purposes, the practice I had today was good enough.

I got recruited to help the girls' team in the already heated battle taking place at the Raddatz home. It was just Ruthie and Amy (the latter girl mentioned is 3) against Jason, Kyle, and Makay. We girls got a base arranged in the little play house but had to change tactics after Jason single-handedly stole all of our extra ammunition AND pelted each of us with darts.

Change of tactic: Ruthie would hold the ground areas. I took to the roof. And yes, I had permission from the parents.

Me. On the roof. Say what? Yeah, that's what I was thinking. But I got up there without dying, and I stayed up there for a long time without dying, too. Sniping the boys from above was super fun, especially when Jason got past me and climbed up as well. We probably looked like maniacs, scampering about the roof chasing each other with Nerf guns. I mean, how old are we? Haha...I don't want to talk about it.

After a three hour battle, Jason declared me and Ruthie the winners. Do you have any idea how amazing that is, for him to actually admit to us beating him? He's done it before, but never so openly and with such...hm...almost respect! It was very satisfying, haha!

I've gotten to be a pretty good shot with a Nerf gun. The only bad thing about that is I'm good at hitting people in the face. Only the boys, but still. I got Jason in the cheek and the dart stuck for a second. He started laughing and said that everybody was going to wonder where he got the hickey on his face. Hickeys...ew. Yeah, I'm mature, lol. I have no idea why I said what I did, but I told him that his answer was easy: tell them he got it from me. That made his whole family fall apart laughing, especially his mom and dad. Yeah...it was after one in the morning. I get a little ca-wazy. I am just so incredibly mature it surprises me! NOT.

Perhaps it's silly and childish (not perhaps about it, it is silly and childish) to get such a kick out of being able to hit the center of a picture from 15 feet away with a dart tipped with a suction cup, or to be able to get a dart to hit your friend in the back of the head, but it's really fun. I guess I've found a hidden talent for shooting stuff. Great! Now I know that I can rap and I can kill things. Or pretend to kill things.

another second chance...

Soooo...I kind of sort of just maybe might have broken my agreement with Brianna and Shelby to ignore Aries. But how could I possibly ignore him when he left flowers on my doorstep with an apology and then contacted me to, again, apologize? That'd be unkind.

I was on choir non-tour (meaning we stayed within an hour of the Institute building at all times) all last week, and it was a blast. Friday we went to Salt Lake to go to the temple, do service projects, and spend some time relaxing on the grounds of the temple. It. Is. Gorgeous. I'd have a hard time imagining a place so beautiful. I don't think I've been there in the spring since I was little. I would have remembered.

As I was sitting with some friends looking at the flowers, I got a call from my mom. She told me that there was a bouquet of a dozen roses on the porch for me, with a note simply saying, "I'm Sorry." It wasn't signed, but I could only think of one person who would find it necessary to apologize to me for something.

Mom asked me what I wanted her to do with the flowers. Conversation as follows:

Me: "Well, are they pretty?"
Mom: "Yes. They're really beautiful, actually."
Me: "Okay then. Keep them."
Mom: "Really?"
Me: "Yes. I don't care who they're from if they're pretty. I love flowers. So keep 'em."

That made mom laugh really hard. I told some of my friends about the flowers and who I guessed they were from. I got several different reactions. Shelby was indifferent and told me to just let it go. Brad was disgusted. Brady was cautious and told me to be cautious. Teddy and Emilyann were jealous because someone sent me flowers. Lauren asked why they were sent and went from jealous to suspicious of the intention behind the gift.

I'll be honest. I'm suspicious, too. Is this just another form of manipulation? Or is he sincere? I mean, look at it:

1. He spent money on me.
2. He thought of it in the first place.
3. He took the time to go get the flowers.
4. He braved my parents to drop them off at my house. And my sisters.
5. He actually wrote the words "I'm Sorry."

So is all of this meant to guilt trip me? Because it's been starting to work. Or is this a sincere attempt to fix things? Because I don't know if it can be fixed. I don't want to burn any bridges. I'd prefer to think of it as building a gate with a sturdy lock, and the two of us can talk across the fence. However, he knows me so well. It'd be easy for him to find a way over the gate when I wasn't paying close enough attention.

I'm probably an idiot for doing this, but I agreed to talk to him. He asked me if I would. It didn't feel wrong to say yes. And if it is, then I guess I'll just learn something from whatever happens.

You know something? I find it odd that the first day Aries contacted me was the day that Brianna left on her mission to Nauvoo. Brianna has been the one most against this whole thing. Now she's gone. I kind of feel like I'm going behind her back. I'm not. I was just stupid and read the text message before I even remembered that I'd promised not to. As I pressed send I remembered, and my first thought was that I am going to be in serious trouble when she gets home.

life is like a rock wall...

"No matter how stuck you feel, there is always a way to get to the top."

-my friend Julia

Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to go rock climbing with a girl who is quickly becoming a dear friend. She is in the LDC choir that I sing with, and she was also a senior in high school when I was a junior (I think).

When Julia asked me to go, I was so excited that she wanted me to hang out (haha!) with her that I didn't even realize I'd said yes to go rock climbing. It was only after I said I'd go that I remembered: I am deathly afraid of heights.

Julia has been climbing longer than I have. She usually goes about twice a week and has for nearly six months. Me? Yesterday was the first time I've gone in ten years. My dad took me because I really wanted to go, and he dropped me about six feet because there was too much slack in the rope. In short, I haven't been too fond of the sport in a long time.

Learning how to tie knots, put on harnesses, and belay was the easy part (kind of...it took me awhile to figure out). Climbing the first wall wasn't too hard either. It was the coming down that was the hardest part. That first climb scared me to death, and Aaron, the guy who was belaying me, had to coax me back down. His patience (and the fact that my arms were killing me) made it a lot easier. After that, I was super excited because I hadn't died! And it was actually really fun.

Now to the point of this post: there were a couple of times when I was climbing a particularly rough wall and had to stop to rest, or even come down. My fingers wouldn't grip the holds very well, and I was so tired. Once or twice I got stuck, and instead of staying up I just asked the person belaying me to let me down. The time that stuck with me, though, was when Julia was belaying me. I couldn't go up any higher, and she let me down. She asked me if I would belay for her, and started up the wall.

As Julia was climbing, she would stop and track out a path up the wall. Sometimes she would climb down a few feet, get her bearings, and then shoot ten feet up the wall in a few easy steps. She made it look so simple! I kept watching and waiting for her to get stuck or get too tired to keep going. Three times I thought she would stop and come back down, but she never did. It wasn't until she reached the very top of the wall and touched the bar holding the rope that she said she was ready to drop back down.

While she was slipping the ropes off of her harness, she smiled at me and said something that stuck with me all day and all night. "No matter how stuck you feel, there is always a way to get to the top."

I've thought about this a lot, how she took her time and made sure to take the right steps. Even if she had to double back a few feet and start again, she never stopped climbing until she made it to the top. To me, that's kind of how life is. No matter how hard it gets, or how stuck you may feel, there is always some way to get to the top of whatever problem you are facing. I'm really glad that Julia taught me that. It's something I always want to remember.

kids, don't try this at home...

I have taken the definition of "experimentation" to a whole new level.

You may be asking, "What the heck did you do, Georgie?"

OH, I will tell you what I did.

DRUGS

Let me explain:

For the past couple of weeks, I've been gradually getting very sick. And today, I woke up unable to turn my head because my throat was so swollen. So I finally did what I should have done earlier in the week: I went to the doctor. He told me I have a viral infection and I also have the potential to develop something similar to my sister. Which means that if left untreated, I could land in the hospital with her. Now, I love my sister and all, but my room sharing days ended when I was eight, so I'm rather inclined to keep riding solo when it comes to sharing space. SO I decided to take the doc's advice and med up.

Un problemo: the antibiotic he prescribed is in the same family as a medication I had an allergic reaction to when I was little. However, that was nearly two decades ago (I'm pushing my age because I can), so doctor, mother, and myself decided to take the risk because

1. The antibiotics are different enough that "she should be fine"
2. This particular antibiotic really kicks my particular problem in the butt, and the faster its butt gets kicked the better off I'll be
3. I really didn't want to end up in the hospital so I wanted that kick quick

Here's what we decided to do: I was to get the medicine at the pharmacy and go visit my sister at the hospital. After arriving, I was to take the medicine and wait to see if I had an allergic reaction. If said reaction occurred (no matter how I spell this word it looks wrong, so I'm leaving it), I was to inform a nurse and get treated right away. If said reaction never happened, I was to go home and rest.

This is where the term "experimentation" gets taken to a new level. I did as the doctor instructed. I, however, had an advantage: I was not trying this at home. There was a fully trained medical staff just outside the door. Granted they had no idea what was going on, but in my mind it was good. And it made me feel super dangerous. Insert sniggering here.

I took the drugs. And guess what? Nothing. Happened. Which is why I'm sitting at home in the office writing of my drug adventure right at this moment.

We can now officially declare that the question: "will she have an allergic reaction" gets a negatory. The hypothesis: "she'll be fine due to the nearly two decade time lapse" gets a thumbs up.

Myth busted.

(that doesn't really work...I've just always wanted to say that.)