So, Basically, Freshman Year Sucked.

I don't really want to go into too much detail about why my freshman year was so aggregious, but what I will say are these three things:

1. I canned the book I was writing because my writing style improved dramatically.
2. I was bullied out of a group of friends by a boy named Michael Newman. This kid launched me into a downward spiral of depression and loss of self-esteem simply by being a bitch and yelling at me in the hallways and making fun of the faith I have in my Heavenly Father. Then I was forced to find new friends to hang out with, or be eaten by sharks. (And, yes, I am sadly no longer friends with Sara. She betrayed me for the snake.)
3. I have Selective Sound Sensitivity Syndrome. There's a very long explaination as to what it is, but in short, it's a condition where soft noises like chewing, crunching, smacking, snuffling, gum popping, and crinkling torture the mind of the victim until they blow their top. There is a strong desire to leave the room, also, and a strong sense of shame about their condition and do whatever they can to hide it; thus creating a reality of a living hell.
4. My youth pastor, Blacklock, got fired. It's kind of turned our youth group upside down, and most of the kids who used to come have left.

So, long story short, I'm really, really glad it's summer. I don't have to see anyone, nobody's popping gum, nobody's poking fun of me, and I can have some quiet time alone and not have to worry about having any homework. Which is good.

This last month, my dad's parents came out to Colorado from Nebraska so my grandpa could have back surgery. The wacky thing was that apparently he was taking too much Adavan (a drug to calm the nerves), so now he flailing around trying to get out of his bed and hallucinating and thinking my dad's slipping him drugs because Adavan is reacting badly with the different medications he now needs to take for his back. This is kind of strange.

Yesterday we got home from going to Steamboat with my new best friend, Ashley, or "Fang" (as I so affectionately call her), 's family for the weekend. They had some sort of time share thing worked out they could stay in these really nice resorts for a couple days. The rooms were really nice, too, like Fang and I could share a room together and each have a queen-sized be to ourselves while her sister and parents both got king-sized beds and my brother and her brother could share the pullout couch in the living room. It was awesome!

The most fun thing Ashley and I did while we were there was take a walk to WalMart and pretend I was pregnant and looking for baby clothes. A guy actually walked up to us and said, "Hey, um, would you happen to know where I could find some swim shorts for my daughter? She's five, and you two seem to be finding everything just fine," while eyeing my puffed-out stomach shielded with my hand for a convincing "pregnant lady" look.
"You know, " I replied all-too-calmly, "We didn't see anything like that. I mean, we weren't looking for swimsuits, just onesies at the moment. I'm sorry."
"Oh, sure," he said, "That's fine. Thank you!"
Ashley and I then ducked quickly into the next asle and died laughing.

Welcome to my life.

- Steph