For the sake of being quite clear, I got no homework done this weekend, but I do not have any feelings of remorse. Whatsoever. None. Zilch.
And this is why:
Friday was one of the happiest days of my life. I had the happiest reunion with my best friend, Marisa, and we may or may not have danced around my kitchen to "You Always Make Me Smile," and skipped around in a circle with Stephie and Lora when we were all together again. Then we spent the night trying to decide which flavor of Ben & Jerry's to get while Brent and Taylor chided us for taking too long. I don't like being chided when I'm deciding which ice cream to get. It's an important decision. But the answer to which flavor to get is always simple:
Everything But The...
It is, and I quote: "A Collision of Chocolate and Vanilla ice creams mixed with Heath Bar Chunks, White Chocolate Chunks, Peanut Butter Cups, and Chocolate Covered Almonds."
You can see why it is the obvious solution.
By the time we got to Lora's house, we were dead. Brent, Taylor, and Marisa had each gotten only a few hours of sleep as they had driven through the night from the Gila Valley to Provo, and I had only a few hours under my belt as I had stayed up until 3:00 am writing a satire for my English class. We decided Clue would be a good game to play, but five minutes in we agreed that it was taking too long, so Marisa skipped her way over to the Billiard Room (or was it the Ballroom?) and accused Colonel Mustard with the lead pipe (or was it the revolver?). Either way, the only accusation that was correct was that Colonel Mustard was in fact the murderer, and we were satisfied. After eating our ice cream and a short round of "Papa Loves Mambo" by Perry Como, Stephie and I went home.
Bright and early Saturday morning, we met back at Lora's and Brent, Taylor, Marisa, Stephie, and I left Provo for Salt Lake City. Why? Because we had tickets for General Conference of course. I followed behind Brent in my Honda Civic because I had no idea how to get where we were going. Brent is a speed demon. Emphasis on the word demon. Before we left, Stephie said the prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help us not get pulled over because we were most definitely going to have to break the law to keep up with Brent. Thank goodness he answered our prayers. I would have pulled us over if I was a cop. After only two near accidents, we traveled safely. Then we lost Brent. We got stopped at a light, and he sped on ahead. We weren't worried because we could just call Taylor who was with him to give us the directions of where they went. Oh, how our faith was in vain. The area we had parking passes for was full and Taylor, our once faithful guide and friend told us, "You're on your own." Oh thanks Taylor. Luckily we found a parking lot and between alternating running and speed walking made our way to the conference center, cursing Brent and Taylor the
whole way.
Conference was fantastic, and we ran into several people we knew including a boy from our ward in Thatcher who is serving a mission in Salt Lake, an old roommate, a boy from St. Johns, and my sister's old roommates. It was great! I wish I could say more about how wonderful conference was, but you can listen to it for yourself if you missed it. My summary wouldn't do it justice.
The worst part of the weekend was saying goodbye to Marisa. We cried. Not just a few trickles of tears, but genuine alligator tears. Other than that, this was a beyond fantastic weekend which resulted in an ultimately boring post. Isn't it great how it works out that way?
And this is why:
Friday was one of the happiest days of my life. I had the happiest reunion with my best friend, Marisa, and we may or may not have danced around my kitchen to "You Always Make Me Smile," and skipped around in a circle with Stephie and Lora when we were all together again. Then we spent the night trying to decide which flavor of Ben & Jerry's to get while Brent and Taylor chided us for taking too long. I don't like being chided when I'm deciding which ice cream to get. It's an important decision. But the answer to which flavor to get is always simple:
Everything But The...
It is, and I quote: "A Collision of Chocolate and Vanilla ice creams mixed with Heath Bar Chunks, White Chocolate Chunks, Peanut Butter Cups, and Chocolate Covered Almonds."
You can see why it is the obvious solution.
By the time we got to Lora's house, we were dead. Brent, Taylor, and Marisa had each gotten only a few hours of sleep as they had driven through the night from the Gila Valley to Provo, and I had only a few hours under my belt as I had stayed up until 3:00 am writing a satire for my English class. We decided Clue would be a good game to play, but five minutes in we agreed that it was taking too long, so Marisa skipped her way over to the Billiard Room (or was it the Ballroom?) and accused Colonel Mustard with the lead pipe (or was it the revolver?). Either way, the only accusation that was correct was that Colonel Mustard was in fact the murderer, and we were satisfied. After eating our ice cream and a short round of "Papa Loves Mambo" by Perry Como, Stephie and I went home.
Bright and early Saturday morning, we met back at Lora's and Brent, Taylor, Marisa, Stephie, and I left Provo for Salt Lake City. Why? Because we had tickets for General Conference of course. I followed behind Brent in my Honda Civic because I had no idea how to get where we were going. Brent is a speed demon. Emphasis on the word demon. Before we left, Stephie said the prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help us not get pulled over because we were most definitely going to have to break the law to keep up with Brent. Thank goodness he answered our prayers. I would have pulled us over if I was a cop. After only two near accidents, we traveled safely. Then we lost Brent. We got stopped at a light, and he sped on ahead. We weren't worried because we could just call Taylor who was with him to give us the directions of where they went. Oh, how our faith was in vain. The area we had parking passes for was full and Taylor, our once faithful guide and friend told us, "You're on your own." Oh thanks Taylor. Luckily we found a parking lot and between alternating running and speed walking made our way to the conference center, cursing Brent and Taylor the
whole way.Conference was fantastic, and we ran into several people we knew including a boy from our ward in Thatcher who is serving a mission in Salt Lake, an old roommate, a boy from St. Johns, and my sister's old roommates. It was great! I wish I could say more about how wonderful conference was, but you can listen to it for yourself if you missed it. My summary wouldn't do it justice.
The worst part of the weekend was saying goodbye to Marisa. We cried. Not just a few trickles of tears, but genuine alligator tears. Other than that, this was a beyond fantastic weekend which resulted in an ultimately boring post. Isn't it great how it works out that way?
Thanks for updating! I don't know which was your favorite talk at conference, but I'm glad you got to go to one session. I'm just glad that you are safe and it sounds like you had fun!
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