Conglomeration

Conglomeration. What a fun word. It sounds like what it means. Anyway, a conglomeration of thoughts:

--It is the greatest thing to see a leaf fall. It happened on my way to school this morning and it was great. It falls nonchalantly despite its special beauty.

--Fall fall fall fall fall. I love it. I love it. It's just the greatest. I will write a post on the wonder of Fall in Northern California. But fall in Utah is pretty great too. To the right is a picture of the most beautiful bush in the world, spread all over Provo and bursting into a brilliant red for the fall season. I love seeing these all over. Beautiful, beautiful!

--I am in love with my physiology professor. In love. He is hilarious, brilliant, and offers lots of extra credit :) He's really easy going and shows us funny videos in class. He showed this to us yesterday. Funniest commercial I have ever seen. It's 30 seconds. Watch it now!!



--Sunday, I super-glued my hands! No, I didn't glue them together, nor did I glue them to anything, but they were covered and I'm sure anyone who shook my hand at church thought I had some terrible skin disease. It's gone now, except for a small shiny patch on one of my fingernails.

--I was SO tired Tuesday morning when I woke up and wished for another hour of sleep. But was faithful to my education, so walked to campus. I walked into class and it was empty! I tried to remember him saying class was canceled, but couldn't remember. I shrugged my shoulders and went to the Wilk to read for physiology. An hour and 20 minutes later, I realized I had gone to class an hour early. I rushed to class, walked in a half hour late, got a mean glare from my professor, sat down, and laughed to myself. Does that ever happen this far into the semester?

--Do you ever have to sit facing a certain direction? I had a lot of homework to do, so walked to a remote corner in the Wilk. I wanted to sit facing the wall so I wouldn't be distracted and so no one would recognize me (I usually love to see all you lovelies on campus, but had a lot to do!). But I just couldn't do it! For some reason, I had to face north. Why, you ask? No idea.

--There is a perfectly delightful song. "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me" by Mel Carter. Go look it up now! I LOVE it! It's my current repeat song and will be playing at my wedding.

Welp, those are my thoughts today of funny things to show and share with you. Happy Thursday!

How To

Every now and then, we do something random for no reason other than a lack of reason not to. Why not?

Well, a few weeks ago, I did just that. The result? Much amusement. If you ask any co-worker of mine, he will tell you that I'll often emit a little chuckle when reading something on my computer. All thanks to the day I decided to add a HOW TO box to my igoogle.

I changed my email and therefore went about setting up a new igoogle page. I added a weather box, a to do list (which I like very much; I'd recommend it), news updates, a word of the day, places to see, and a few other applications. I also added a "How to of the Day" because I thought, "Why not?" In that moment I didn't appreciate the gravity of the situation. I didn't see its potential for free little package gifts of happiness.

I love these How To's of the day not because I actually take advantage of them, but because the actual activities themselves are amusing to me. Here is a list. I've only had about two weeks of how to's and this is just a snippet of the many gems I've gotten:

HOW TO:

Make towels more absorbant

Treat a bullet wound

Use a plethora of apples

Throw a boomerang correctly

Decorate a gift with plastic straws

Plan a Grand Canyon vacation

Raise an Alaskan Husky

Get rid of bats

Make gummi bears

Respect yourself

Use a dash in an English sentence (I actually looked at this one and, ironically, the grammar wasn't quite accurate..)

Fall safely

Make a charm ring

Oxidize silver with egg yolks

Tell if you're watching TV in HD



I hesitate to publish this tonight, in fear of missing some upcoming greats, but had to share. The How To's come from WikiHow. So great!

Thee v Thuh

Have you ever noticed things we do in speech that we were never taught? Not as in slang, but in technique.. Here's something:

It sounds awkward if people don't use thee and thuh appropriately. I'm sure you've noticed. People usually say 'the' with a long e (ee sound) proceeding vowels (with exceptions like mute h's (thee hour) or consonant-sounding-yet-vowel-beginning words (thuh university)). Thee early bird.. Thee apples.. Thee other day... And they usually say 'the' with a short e (uh sound) before consonants. Thuh world. Thuh girl. Thuh whole city.

If someone said "thuh entire field," there would be an awkward glottal sound..

My reason for this blog: try to do it the un-done way and see peoples' reactions :)

Dreams

Well, school has started and jostled me around a bit, but I am ready for the semester. Emotionally. And motivationally.. Although I doubt I am in any way ready intellectually for physics or advanced French grammar--which, I might add with much lack of enthusiasm, is full of return missionaries. Nor am I ready for the chemistry that decided to taint a class (physiology) I thought would be a comfort to my mind amidst its crueler fellows. I was sitting in physics the other day, never feeling stupider. Sometimes things are hard to grasp. But I don't even know what to grasp. I sit there and try to understand the concepts, but all my mind sees is its own version of what Physics World looks like: 8-dimensional curves and slopes rotating without foundations or connections. To those of you who never struggled in physics, or even struggled only slightly, I salute you. WOW, I salute you. You could do pretty much anything and I would still think you were smarter than 99.999% of the world.

But, there is a sun ray purpose in this post. It's called dreams. Dreams and hope.

My lovely apartment, located ten minutes from BYU, has a secret. A roof that is magical and wonderful. It will never witness mediocre happenings. Instead, every night we've been there, something magical has happened--we've dreamt. Tonight, three of us girls sat on the roof for hours discussing our future lives and our determinations to live better lives in the present.

Last week, four of us made a two-week plan. We decided to return to the roof two weeks later and assess. Well, we planned to run every M,W,F, go to the temple every Tuesday, eat nothing sugary, say nothing bad about others, and read our scriptures every night before 8:00pm. It's hard and I've not followed it perfectly, but I love it. And am doing very well. Yay for new semesters and goals!

Rough Start

So it's Thursday of the first week of school. And what a week it's been. What a two/three weeks it's been. The last two weeks I spend in California were spent running around trying to buy anything I'd need out here, trying to tie up all the loose ends. I was usually working at the nursing home from 6:30a to 3:00p and then running over to Kiersten's for the evening so we could complete all the things we'd planned for the summer. The last three days I was home I had a schedule up to the minute I got in bed. It was crazy.
I, being (as I always will) Morgan LaRee Anderson, waited until midnight Tuesday night to pack my room. We were leaving Wednesday at 6:00a. I'd already packed up several boxes and sent them ahead with my aunt and it didn't look like I had much left. I did. And I slept for a half hour that night.
I got into Provo Wednesday evening and walked into the apt I will be living in for the next year. Cailey and her family were running all over trying to fix up this and that because their previous renters had moved out late and left a lot broken and dirty. We carried all my stuff up, got to work moving in, and helped the Gallachers with a few things. My parents went to their hotel and Cailey and I decided to paint the kitchen with the assistance of her friend Stephen. It was soon 2:00, painting was done, and we both decided we were in the mood to get to work on our rooms. At 4:00 I decided I was too tired to continue and went to bed. I woke up a few hours later to shop for the apartment with my parents before they headed home. That night, Cailey and I stayed up until 4:00 again. And the next few nights were around 2:00, 1:00.
So I started school with.. not much sleep. Classes have been fine so far. And work.. didn't come back as easily or quickly as I'd hoped. But, life is good and I'm happy. Nevertheless, Three-day-weekend, I welcome you!!

My New Year's Resolution Reminder

I've always been a big dreamer. I have huge dreams for life and many, many goals. I have a list of about eleven summer goals and quite the Bucket List (being a lover of lists as well as dreams, plans, and goals). BUT, I'm terrible at getting them done. I can even plan out little landmarks, objectives. I'm just really bad at getting stuff done, at using my time wisely. I'll always turn in a paper, read my assignments, etc., but I'll be a few minutes late to class because I started it an hour previous. And although I'd sworn to myself I'd never do it again, it had worked, I'd gotten a pretty good grade, and here I was, doing it again, a slave to my procrastination and laziness. But at the end of the class period, I've redirected myself with the goal to start all assignments earlier and have them done the day before they're due.

Well, with this goal setting comes MASSIVE New Year's Resolution Making. This past year, I made about 20 more goals than I could actually accomplish . . . But! I did one thing right: among the many lofty, well-meant, but ill-to-be-kept, goals, I made one main goal. And my main goal of this year was to leave everyone better than I found them. To make everyone feel like Morgan Anderson thought they were special. To find out what people love most about themselves and what I love most about them and point it out.

I had a nice littler reminder a few months ago.

This is the greatest movie, film, I've ever seen. A friend who knows me well showed it to me, knowing I'd love it. I did. It's exactly what I want to be and it's fifteen minutes that you won't regret spending.

Who wouldn't love knowing a Hugh Newman? Who'd like to be a Victoria--married to a Hugh Newman? Who wants to be a Hugh Newman? It's my new life goal. Be sure to let me know how I'm doing! Here's to accomplishing one of . . . many goals!

You're great! YOU are awesome! You have great cheekbones and a lovely laugh.

Thoughts for Grammar

The dog wagged it is tail. How many times have I thought this phrase? Hundreds. Thousands, maybe. (I've always been terrible with estimating numbers. Are there 80? 140? Or 200 people in this room? I couldn't tell you..) I'm sure you think it's an odd phrase. It isn't even grammatically correct. Well, it's all thanks to.. Mrs. Miracle. Or Mrs. Ferrill. Or Mrs. Reid. I don't remember when I was taught this life saving little reminder.

Once I learned my left and right, I knew the difference with little difficulty. I'm not one of those people you still see, extending their thumbs and pointer fingers to see which side shapes an 'L.' In fact, I never used that trick. I knew I was left-handed, so if the side in debate was on the side with the hand I wrote with, it was the left side. Logically.  And so I never had a hesitation in my left and right differentiation. Back to the point: although I had no difficulty with right v left, I did with it's v its. Until a brilliant teacher taught her class a brilliant trick.

Unlike many cases with the 's, the word 'it' does not get an apostrophe s when used possessively. The apostrophe s is, instead, used for the contraction: it is becomes it's. So, when looking at the phrase, The dog wagged it is tail, we see it is incorrect and, therefore, does not get the apostrophe s. So that phrase would be The dog wagged its tail. If we look at a phrase like I like the sun because it is hot, we see it is correct and, therefore, receives the apostrophe s. This phrase becomes I like the sun because it's hot.

Well, I can't really say why I decided to write this, let alone post it. Maybe I just wanted you to see one more extremely weird thing that makes Morgan Morgan.

.......

Haven't you always wanted a hamburger bed?

Recovery

Hello. My name is Morgan Anderson and I am addicted to gum. My counselor said a public admittance would be helpful, so I decided my blog would be perfect. I am broadcasting to the world, but, really, only about five people, so like this arrangement a lot better than the others she suggested.

It took me a while to realize and even longer to admit there was a problem. One day, it just hit me: I'm a gum addict. Not just any addict. An Orbit Wintermint gum addict. And this is my story.

We all remember the days we watched our parents or older siblings chewing the gum we weren't allowed. It was like candy that never got finished, a relish in the mouth that could last for ever if only it weren't so slimy and hard to keep from slipping down the throat.

And then the days when we were eight. And it was allowed. It was all about the Zebra gum. It tasted the best. It even had cool jokes.

And those times when you're sitting under the bleachers, trying to escape the sun at your brother's baseball game. You're bored. You've been there for an hour and a half already. Meaning you've actually been there for approximately 556632.43 hours. You've already climbed the tree. Yes, there are multiple trees, but only one that has branches low enough for you to climb up to. You played in an empty baseball field, but the other team showed up and you had to move on to tag with that one kid you don't really like. Now your clothes are dirty and your jeans are ripped revealing freshly scraped knees. You hop bleachers over to your mom and ask if you can get something at the snack bar. She hands you a nickel and next thing you know, you've got a huge cheekful of that "Dubble-Bubble" gum the man pulled out from a tub. I'm sure it was four years old. But it didn't matter.

As I grew up, I learned I was above the Zebras, Juicy Fruit, and gum balls. I needed something that lasted and I needed something minty. I personally don't like gum that is fruit flavored. And, unlike normal children, I started hating anything bubble-gum flavored. So I used Trident for a while. And then the beautiful day: my mom pulled some Orbit out of her purse. Oh, I was hooked. She's more of a Peppermint type of gal, so that's what I used. But my first year of independence, my freshman year of college, I discovered it: Wintergreen. A little sharper than the regular. Oh what a beautiful day that was.

My mom buys us those 12 packs from Costco for each of us kids for Christmas each year (like alcoholism, gum addiction is genetic and hereditary). That used to be enough. But I'm on my third? fourth? box since December. I even eat them only half pieces at a time (saves money, saves me from an annoyingly loud chew, and--I know you won't believe it-- makes the flavor last longer..), so that's doubled compared to the general population. I guess the fourth box should have been the first sign. But I was finally hit with my problem a few months ago. I was cleaning out my back pack and there were showers and showers of wrappers falling out. I looked around my room. There were a few on the ground, a good many on the desk, some on the dresser. I pulled out every pair of pants from my drawers and pulled at least one crumpled wrapper out of EVERY POCKET. Throughout the next few weeks, whenever I remembered my problem, I'd reach into my pockets and pull out a new wrapper.

Well, then I joined a support group, and that brought me here to you today. I'm still working on it. I have my set backs every now and then. But I'm trying. And I feel like a new woman. And you can too!

Well, that's my story. I tell it in hopes that I can stop others who, like the old me, are on a path of something that seemed innocent. I was just curious, just bored, just did it for social reasons. But now I need it. I need it. Otherwise my mouth gets all dry. And I get hot. And I see spots. And the room starts spinning... So please, stop and think: how many boxes have you been through? How many wrappers are in your room at this given moment?

Sugar and Noodles

Everyone's heard of the college student's staple meal--Top Ramen. Cheap, and easy to make. But it doesn't really satisfy when you want something sweet that is also cheap and easy to make. And doesn't require millions of ingredients. Well, my roommates and I have recently discovered some very cheap dessert options for those times you can't get to the store and don't have any traditional desserts or ingredients such as ice cream, cake mixes, etc. These have all been tried and approved by Apartment 22:

Quick Fix: Grab a handful of chocolate chips. They are so chocolately and rich, you won't need more than that.

Mexi Strips: Fry up some tortilla strips and put some cinnamon and sugar on them. Thought of and created by Kristin and Alyssa

Toffee Crackers: Mix one cup of brown sugar with one cup of butter on the stove until the sugar melts. Spread over crackers. Spread melted chocolate chips on top of these and cool in fridge. Alyssa

Cinnamon Toast: Butter a few pieces of bread, sprinkle them with cinnamon and sugar, and put them in the broiler for 2-4 minutes. Careful, they burn fast! I grew up on these :) Me

In 0 Minutes or Less: Guilt trip a friend so they feel like they owe you something and suggest a cake Received by Jane and Melissa.. Contributed both times by Dave :)
(If you're a boy, girls always bake things for guys they're interested in or even just friends with, so take full advantage of this luxury)

Carmelized Pecans: I don't know how many of you have a bag of nuts floating around, but we did. So Hannah decided to do something amazing: Mix butter, cinnamon, brown sugar, and pecans. Put in the broiler for a few minutes until carmelized. You could also use almonds or any other nut..Hannah

Welp, I hope I just made the world a little happier. Tasty and cheap. Best of luck. And please comment with any ideas you may have. I suppose you could always sprinkle some sugar over Top Ramen.. let me know how that goes.

Happy Cooking!

This has been another episode of Managing Money with Morgan. Be sure to tune in next week,

Chef Mo

Sometimes Life is too Good to go to Bed on Time

Sometimes there are things that are just more important than getting your sleep. Examples:

Last night I was awake until 2:30. My friend Hannah and I stayed up, talking about anything and everything. We have a lot in common and see the world the same way, share most of the same opinions. I do enjoy talking to people who are different from me. It's interesting when a certain situation sends someone else's mind on a completely different path than mine. But it's really refreshing when you find someone a lot like you, who thinks the same things, who thinks the same way. Talking with friends, building bonds is worth an hour of sleep. I can ALWAYS always sleep. But it's times like last night that only come along when they happen to come along. And it tends to be these times that make a difference in life.

Second example: I take the days slowly. I do my HW at my own pace. Maybe it'd be better if I sped read and crammed all HW into 2-3 hours and then went to bed on time. But honestly? No. If I did that, I'd be stressed and uptight all the time. I take life at my own speed. So I lose a few hours of sleep. But I love every day. There are people I know who focus solely on hw and school and sleep. So they get their 8, 9 hours (opposed to my 3, 4, 5). Maybe these people love to live like this. But would I be a happy person? No. Fun to be around? Nope.

Life is fun. I can't imagine throwing away four years worth of it just because I'm in college. In fact, the college years should be years overflowing with living--with fun and happiness, experiences and memories. Four years worth of relative pronouns, solubility charts, cotangents, dates, and rhetorical devices is not living. And neither is four years of dreams unlived.

My Dear Mother

Today, a successful woman is one who sacrifices her life, her relationships, for a promotion. Last year, I lived in the dorms amongst freshman girls—girls who were determined to disprove the stereotype that they were only there for a husband. All BYU freshmen females fight this typecast. They want to be doctors, business women. They are going to tour the world and save the pandas in China. Now, I do not think this is a problem. I respect women with a drive for success and intellectualism. And I believe every living person needs something to be passionate about.

But I do see a problem when girls decide there are more important things to accomplish before, or in lieu of, marriage and children. I am not writing of the fifties mindset that the woman is supposed to marry and shrink under the shadows of men. But I do think marriage and family are becoming less and less admirable. I’ve heard girls say they may get married in this life, but that it is less important than… let’s say those pandas. Now, Mother Teresa was never married and didn’t have any children. And she has done things for Heavenly Father’s children that no one else was capable of. Her works and her heart were so great that only a small number of people will accomplish things of the same magnitude. But think about those people who have been able to reach nearly every human being on this earth—mothers. And the fact that EVERY mother that earns the term in a non-biological sense has changed the lives of each of her children. I respect my own mother just as much as Mother Teresa.

Bobbylee Anderson has, alongside with my dad, done more for me than anyone else in this world. She is one of the most selfless people I know. For over a month, she spent every day she had off of work at court. From 9-5 she sat through a trial for the son of a woman in the ward she wasn’t particularly close to. I still remember a time that I called her on a Saturday and asked what she’d done and what her plans were for the rest of the day. She’d said that she’d helped a girl in the ward with something, gone to one of my brother’s games, had a presidency meeting, and was going to sew curtains for her niece’s new bedroom. Nothing for herself, only others.

On a bad day, there is no one I’d rather call. When I have exciting news, there’s no one who shares the excitement as well as she does. She knows me better than anyone else. When I am debating a decision, I always call her. Not as a mother who’d command me, but as a friend who knows what I’d like most and what would be best for me. I was never a rebellious child, so while growing up, I was able to build a strong friendship with my mom. No, she wasn’t one of those irresponsible mothers who just wanted to be a friend. She is every meaning of the word “mother.” But she knew I also needed a friend. And that’s what she’s become.

She’ll listen to me rant and follow all the tangents I take. She doesn’t try to control my life now that I am of the age to make my own decisions, and never has. I tell her the things I’ve decided and she tells me what she thinks. But if I need advice, I always go to her and am always helped. When I’m wrong, she’s the only right I’ll see. She has a strength and a testimony unlike any I’ve ever seen. She loves me in a way no one else in this world does. She loves me despite how well she knows me, despite all the weaknesses I’m sure she’s seen. And yet, I feel as if she sees good things in me I’m not aware of, strengths only the love of a mother can detect.

And I know everyone feels this deeply about their own mother. Who could feel otherwise about a woman who wants nothing other than their happiness? So I call for the realization of the ideal role model—our own mothers. And for the respect and awe for the sacred calling of mother.

Footless Halls of Air

Wow. This was the first CNN news story on my iGoogle. Top news, my friends.

Socks, former Clinton cat, put to sleep.

On to my purpose for this blog today. I remembered a beautiful poem I discovered my senior year and thought I'd share it with you all since I don't want to study for chemistry.

During the early days of World War II, while the US was still neutral, many Americans crossed into Canada to enlist. John Gillespie Magee, Jr. was among them, giving up a Yale scholarship for a place in the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was soon flying in England where, at 19, he was struck with the inspiration for a poem: "To Touch the Face of God." He wrote a quick verse while in the air and concluded the poem on the ground shortly after landing. He wrote out the poem on the back of a letter to his parents. Magee died a few months later from a mid-air collision. On his headstone reads the first and last lines of his poem:
"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth- Put out my hand and touched the face of God."

High Flight
John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter- silvered wings;

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds- and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of- wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air…

Up, up the long delirious burning blue

I’ve topped the wind- swept heights with easy grace,

Where never lark, or ever eagle flew-

And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

You Learn Something New Everyday: CONTRONYM

This is interesting:

Cleave: 1 to adhere firmly and closely or loyally and unwaveringly
2 to separate into distinct parts

Cleave is its own antonym—a contronym. Huh! Here are some more. Comment with any others you can think of. Some of these are a bit of a stretch, but I like them anyway:

bolt - secure v run away
buckle - fasten v fall apart
custom - usual v special
dust - add fine particles v remove fine particles
fast - quick v unmoving
left - remaining v departed from
mean - average v excellent (e.g., "plays a mean game")
out - visible (e.g., stars) v invisible (e.g., lights)
screen - show v hide

I hope you find this as interesting as I do. You think about things like this too, right?

I Love the Story

I love stories. A lot. There are many reasons and many manifestations.

First off, I've noticed my whole life that I have a deep love for music, reading, dance, theatre, movies, sculptures.. all the arts. There are probably many reasons, but one conclusion I drew was very interesting and fits nicely into this little piece: I love the story. And these are all different ways of telling a story. Music has a beautiful way of telling a story and expressing the emotions. There is such a beauty and depth when the melodies and harmonies are added to the lyrics of Les Misérables . And then the music swells for emphasis as the human voice personifies the message and adds a testimony, experience to the words. Literature has the ability to look into the minds and hearts of the characters, to explain the reasons people behave the way they do. I've often found connections between myself and characters that are deeper and much easier to see than those between myself and normal people. DANCE. All forms, but there is nothing in this world more beautiful to me than ballet. I cannot tell you how many times I have seen or performed in The Nutcracker. And when Christmastime comes, there's still nothing I'd rather do. Theatre. Now, to some, its sappiness and annoyingly high dose of melodrama is overwhelming and hard to get past. But when I do get past it, what an incredible thing to be able to witness. An actor takes a character and shows you how he saw the character in his mind. Movies. Again, I love seeing how the actor brings alive his character. And then there's the filming and lighting, the make-up and costuming, the music; the overall cinematography is something I can't help but notice. And sculptures—capturing a whole story, a whole range of emotions in a single moment. I am not at all an expert in art (or any of the past things) and I'm sure am generic and inexperienced in choosing the Pieta as my example of a beautiful sculpture. As Mary holds the limp body of the Savior, her face and her body show every emotion she feels in the instant and all that was felt previously.

I daydream. All the time. Not because I hate my life and daydream of how it'd be better. It's about my future life—I’ll think of the orphans I'll meet aand help when I finally do get to go to an orphanage, of the beautiful secluded, canopied, dappled backyard my husband and I are going to have. I love my life. A lot. BUT at times, it doesn't quite seem like a story, and I think those are the reasons I daydream about my present life. There once was a girl who woke up and went to work. and then school. after that she stayed on campus. Every day, she does her homework, comes home, and goes to bed. next day, repeat. next day, repeat. Not a very exciting story.
It would seem. But I know better. (Although I still can't hold back my imagination during the 35 minute walk to work.)

There were many times in high school, and still now, when, although invited to a party or asked to hang out, I'd rather stay home and read or watch a movie. People would say I was lazy or wasting time watching a movie. But oh no. I'm being quite stimulated.
I still remember those friends. The ones who would call and set my mind on ultra speed as I fought to find some half- truth excuse. But somehow they'd always find out I'd spent the night with a blanket and movie. Perhaps they knew me better than I thought.

The best music videos, songs, or dances, as my friend Melissa, and any other person, will tell you, are those that tell a story. Music Video—“If I Were a Boy" by Beyonce. Song—“Helena” by Nickel Creek, "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy. Dance—any ballet, "Bleeding Love" by Chelsie and Mark of So You Think You Can Dance.

Lastly, story time. It's the greatest. One time I was with a group of friends. As it was getting late and the room was getting dimmer and dimmer, we started story time. Everyone told a dream or funny story or memory. I loved it! How fun!

My friend Cait and I love to make up stories for each other. Stories that usually end up with an attractive, Banana Republic wearing, internationally and economically-minded, business majoring, trilingual husband. They contain their fair share of adventure as well.

And if you think about it, stories lead to inside jokes, which are, honestly, the stepping stones and markers of a friendship.

Well, my friends, this was my thought on a Thursday night as I shoved my homework aside and made a terrible batch of brownies.