this is the final countdown...

Once upon a time there was a girl named Yves*. Her name was French and she loved the French language. It was a beautiful language and more importantly, she was really excellent at it. Possibly her childhood "frog impression" had taught her the ability to speak with an excellent nasal accent, or maybe just in her past life as an actual frog she had lived in Paris. Either way, the truth was, she really really loved French.

Then she went away to college. Just for fun she took some French classes. It was hard, but she liked it more and more. "Maybe someday I would like to do a study abroad," she thought.

Then BAM! A giant ostrich ran her over and she died. (Ostriches are actually the fastest animals ever. You should be careful. Sometimes they are part rapter. And sometimes THEY KILL YOU.)

Wow, life sucked for Yves. Luckily I am better at life than her and therefore not dead by ostrich.

Anyways, I leave for Paris in 5 hours. Holy nutcrackers.

Seriously, you guys. Like a few months ago I was all, "Yeah, maybe sometime in my life I will go to Paris." Well, I am moving there for 6 weeks. Tomorrow.

The next time you will hear from me, I will be in Paris! Also, I will almost definitely have a difficult time speaking english, so don't judge me.

Love,

Lizzy!!

look, something shiny!

Look, brown people. Who are they? What are they doing? Why did this picture come up when I typed in "wheelbarrow full of syrup" into Google Images?

Well, really I am posting about finals and moving out. Because I am taking finals and moving out, in case you didn't get that, you fools. I have two finals left, psychology and book of mormon. I spectacularly failed my philosophy one, which naturally means that I now don't care about any of my grades. Still, I have sort of studied and will probably do reasonably well. Either way I am cool with it. I am thinking of becoming a professional surfer anyways. You don't need a degree for that, do you?

Also I am moving out. My stuff is in boxes that I have hidden because I cannot work in a messy room.

I miss Clad (or Chod, thanks Annaliese) a lot. Sometimes it is like I am being tazed in the heart and I'm all, "OMG, WTF are you tazing my heart??" And the invisible tazing person is all, "Just like for a good time and in case you forgot that you still can't see your best friend for the next 718 days. You can't call him either. Or text him. You are ALL ALONE except for me and I'm tazing you. Also, you have imagined me because you may have developed schizophrenia. Good thing you know what that is because you are a psych major." And I'm all, "That is uncool, man." And he's all, "Are you a professional surfer?" And I'm like, "Dude, I am totally trying to be. Surfboard. Wicked."

Love,

Lizzy

Pro Surfboarder in Training

farewell, aragog...

...or just my roommates.

Love,

Lizzy :)

george washington is now a janitor, and that janitor is me

this image belongs to Allie at hyperboleandahalf.com. Warning: not all her comics are this free of swearing.

So this morning I woke up at 8 and was like, "I really should get up right now." I've got three finals to study for, and plus on Saturday I found The Perfect Handbag at Plato's Closet but I didn't buy it even though it was only $14 because I didn't want to spend money. Now I regret not buying it and need to run to Plato's Closet and pray no one has purchased MY handbag yet.

But then I fell back asleep because last night I couldn't sleep so I took an extra pill that is supposed to help me sleep and it helped me sleep. But what it did not do was help me desist sleeping. So anyways, I fell back asleep and had a dream that I was George Washington and I was also a janitor for a junior high school. I was mopping the floors a lot.

When I woke up it was almost 10, and then I thought, "This is a great story I should post on my blog." First I ate three pieces of lemon cake for breakfast (thanks Grandma. Aren't you glad you are supporting my pattern of eating straight sugar for days?) though and then I am here. Because I have my priorities straight.

And I have got to RUN TO PLATO'S CLOSET because if someone stole my beautiful handbag I will be forced to hunt them down and kick them in the shins.

Love,

Lizzy

UPDATE: Well, I went to Plato's Closet but my Perfect Handbag had already been purchased. The shin-kicking plan, while brilliant, had some significant flaws in planning, so instead I went and bought some chocolate and then I came back here. The end.

i'm all alone, there's no one here beside me..

Well, sad news, all. Clad, my best friend and the boy I adore, went into the MTC today. He is a great, great guy and so of course he is serving a mission. It is a wonderful opportunity and he and his family will be so blessed for it. I am so excited to see how he grows as a person and to hear about all of the wonderful experiences he has. But at the same time, I'm completely devastated. Now that I know he's not reading this, I can tell you--I want to marry that boy. I've never met anyone whom I love as much as him, who makes me laugh so hard, who is always there for me, who would do anything for me, who loves me so much. I've never felt so safe, loved, and accepted as when I am with him.

I have great confidence in our future when he gets back from his mission. The mission is absolutely necessary if our relationship is to work in the very long term, like we hope it will. But still. Two years...it is a little bit heartbreaking. I'll be okay, though. I've got lots of support from great friends and family and I'm going to France in just under 3 weeks.

It will get easier. It will be okay soon enough. And when he comes back, then it will be absolutely awesome.

Love,

Lizzy :/