And then I got hit by a car.

On purpose--I mean, I didn't get hit on purpose, but the driver hit me with intention.

I was standing in the Costco parking lot with RS pres Sarah after purchasing food for an activity. Sarah was putting the groceries in the car (because I am an invalid), and I was leaning up against the back of the car with the cart in front of me.

An old man in a white Cadillac pulled up into the stall behind our car and just sat there with his engine still on.   We assumed he wanted our space or something. But then he rolled down his window and started telling us to move our cart out of his way. Seeing that we only had two items left in the cart, we told him to 'just hold on a minute.'

Apparently he didn't have a minute.

So he just pulled forward, ran into our cart which ran into me, and pinned my injured body against the car.

Then he got out of the car and proceeded with his business like nothing had happened. So a lady who was down a few stalls from us got out of her car and started screaming at him and swearing up a storm. He yelled back at her a little bit, but basically he just got some pots out of his trunk and walked into the store.

Sarah and I just stood there. Shocked and confused. I kind of wanted to pop the guys tires or key his car. Fortunately for him, we are nice people. So we just went home.

But at this point, I'm pretty sure Canada is trying to kill me.

The weirdest date ever

I'll skip to the exciting part here: I was out quadding (four-wheeling) with my friend Jared near his parents' house, which is kind of in the middle of nowhere out past the suburbs.

And we flipped the quad. 

Helmets were involved, so no head trauma. But I was on the back of the quad, and when it flipped forward, I flew over the top and landed on my tailbone. I'm not really sure what happened next. I just remember lying on the ground. Jared kept trying to help me up, but I kept telling him I wasn't ready to get up yet. Eventually, I made it onto my side. Then sitting. Then standing. The quad was okay, so we were going to ride it back to the house. 

But shortly after we started going, I passed out. Like really out. I didn't know where I was or who he was or what was going on. 

So then we decided walking would be safer. It was getting dark. We were a little bit lost. And we were two or three miles from the house. I don't know how long it took us to get back, but it was a long, slow, painful walk. Jared kept asking me questions to make sure I was still lucid. I got most of them pretty well. For some reason I couldn't remember the counselors in the First Presidency, but I think that's okay.

I had lost my shoes in the fall. Jared found them, but my feet were pretty dirty. So when we got to the house, his mom washed my feet for me because I couldn't sit or bend over. Then he and his brother-in-law, who had been staying over, gave me a blessing. Then we went to the medical clinic.

Let me just say, the medical clinic is a great place for a date. We learned each other's medical histories, I was in a hospital gown, he had to take his shirt off part of the time, and we gave urine samples.

It's a good thing we were already friends.

The x-rays were really painful. They kept telling me to put my legs and hips in positions that my legs and hips did not want to go in. The x-ray table is not soft, and my backside really hurt.

In the end, I came out okay (minus some major bruising and swelling--like my backside is pretty black--that's not the sort of thing you take pictures of, so you'll just have to trust me on that), but Jared has a broken foot and has to wear a boot for six weeks.

We got back to his house around 4am, and I stayed in the guest bedroom because I didn't want him to have to drive me all the way into town and then get home on his own. This morning, his mom drove me home, and here I am. Standing, as I type this. Because sitting is just not my favorite thing right now. And it probably won't be for awhile.

So while, I don't necessarily want to relive that experience again, I can say this about it: 

It was definitely the least boring date I have ever been on. And I hope it stays that way.

The end.

Some birthday festivities

Check out what crashed my girls night birthday party.

By the way, that's a beaver, not a bear. And he did a little dance to 'ABC' from the Jackson 5. So it was pretty much awesome.


Aside from wearing that pink tiara and hanging out with the beaver, I also attended karaoke night at the home of some my ward members. And since I actually moved my birthday party to make way for their karaoke night, they promised me a birthday cake and a birthday song in Spanish--because I didn't want to be sung to.

The big question here, though, is did I sing at karaoke night?

Yes. Yes, I did. Twice.

First I busted out some 1-D with my good fried Kiera (see the institute post below) and her roommate. Then I joined the RS pres (I'm her first counselor) for 'Popular' from Wicked. I always like to try new stuff.

Now back to the birthday cake. The maker of the cake is from Mexico, so he said we had to do this Mexican tradition where the birthday person takes a huge bite of cake using only their face. Of course, I totally agreed to this. So they lined up five people with recent/soon birthdays and put one person in front of us holding a big piece of cake and another person behind us to 'help out.' You can guess how that went . . .

Kiera, who was holding my piece of cake, kindly painted some extra frosting on my face afterward. But I fared much better than the girl whose boyfriend was holding her piece of cake. He really liked this activity. Apparently, boyfriends are mean. I'll just keep Kiera.

Achieving the goal

Last year, I went to the institute graduation here in Edmonton. Because that's what you are in YSA and live in not Utah. You go to a lot of YSA and institute activities. Even the lame ones. That is where all of your friends will be. And they will have food.

Last year, when I went to institute graduation, I had a sudden desire to graduate from institute myself. Of course, I graduated from BYU and finished the religion courses there, but I've had plenty of time since then to also graduate from institute. I just never cared before.

Last year, after institute graduation, my good friend Kiera Johnson and I decided that this year we would both graduate from institute. We also discovered that we both still needed Book of Mormon II along with a number of electives, so we should take Book of Mormon II together.

These things were never spoken of again. But this past semester we both showed up in the same Book of Mormon II class. We usually didn't get to sit together because we weren't very on time. But we were both there. (One time when we did sit together, we didn't really learn anything because we kept distracting each other, so it's probably good that it didn't happen more often.) Last night, we were texting and discovered that we were both, in fact, graduating from institute. (Then Kiera said that if one of us were a boy, this could be our love story.)

Mission accomplished.

This year, Kiera and I decided there must be some power in the plans we make at institute graduation. Like they actually happen. So we should make all our important plan there. At institute graduation. Together.

This year, at institute graduation, we decided that by next year at institute graduation, we will have boyfriends. This is going to happen. It's the magic of institute graduation. Also, it would be nice if the boyfriends were two brothers. Then Kiera and I could become related to each other, and it really would be our love story.

It's Spring in Edmonton!

Alright, so it's been a few years since I blogged. But there's really not that much to say about my life in Canada. Also, if I do have something to say, I use facebook. But I think that most of my friends who ever read this blog, do not often use facebook. So here you go.

Results of the March 21 (first day of spring) snowstorm which caused a 100-car pile-up on the highway. This was really just an addition to the snow we already had, but it made spring seem so much further away.

The snow pile by my front porch.

And by the garage.

More snow.

When I went out to scrape my car in the morning, the snow was above the bottom of the car door. So I cleared out some of it just by opening the door. Also, based on how I'm standing, the snow does not look very high. Do not be deceived. I am standing on about a foot and half of packed down snow which has accumulated over the past six months. Notice how tall I look next to my car. I'm not that tall.

Here I am in some snow up to my skirt. It is not a long skirt. And I am not standing on the actual ground. Just on more snow.

That's our little snow trench/path to the front door. The path itself is about a foot high of packed down snow. But when it gets warm out, the snow gets soft, and sometimes when you're walking, you fall in. Then you are sad.

Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow.

In case you haven't heard . . .

I moved to Canada.

I am getting a PhD in Linguistics at the University of Alberta. So now I live in Edmonton, just 20 hours north of home.

I am anticipating a horribly cold and snowy winter. But at least I get to leave this place for a brief period of time at Christmas.

Update on the simplified life

It's been about a month since I cleaned out my room and started living with a lot less stuff. So here's what I've learned since then.

'Less stuff' is still 'stuff,' and if you are lazy enough to let it all pile up on your desk and your floor, it will look almost as messy as when you had 'more stuff'--but not quite. However, 'less stuff' takes a lot less time to clean up than 'more stuff.'

Less clothes = less laundry. This is my favorite part. Because there are so few clothes in my closet, I'm more willing to wear them ALL before I do laundry. This is a new for me. I'm also more willing to wear clothes multiple times before I wash them. As long as they look clean and smell clean, I will wear them again. (Of course, since I don't have babies spitting up on me every day or toddlers touching me with their sticky hands, this happens a lot more often for me than it would for most of you.) In fact, I often wear the same exact outfit two or three days in a row--and no one else seems to notice or care. This saves me the time and energy of picking out something to wear each day. I figure if it looked cute yesterday, it will look cute again today. I think the shirt I'm wearing right now is actually on it's 4th or 5th day. But it's still fine. Of course, I wash whites every week or two, but I think I might make it a whole month without doing a load of colors!

Less shopping. I know everything I have (and I know where it is), and I have everything I need. So I don't even want to spend money on new stuff. This makes budgeting nicer. And I really do think I'm more satisfied with life.

Less books is harder than I thought it would be. I couldn't actually part with most of them and found room to keep all but a handful of books which I remember hating when I read them anyway.

Often when I look around at my room now, I consider how much more of my stuff I could really do without.