F.I.N.A.L.S.

I don't have a clean, Mormonified acronym for "Finals", and I'm not gonna use the one I know. Needless to say, finals are finally upon us here at BYU and we get to laugh in the faces of our out-of-state peers who still have two months-ish left of school, who were laughing at us just last week during their Spring Break vacays.

This is my LAST full semester (FINALLY!!!) and I cannot be happier. I can't WAIT to get out of Provo. It has brought me the best times and the worst times in my life.

I will not write another Ode to Finals Week. I don't think these lasts tests I take warrant such a loving and thoughtful and time-consuming action from myself.

Yay for me! I graduate as soon as I finish my internship! With the Orem Owlz!

But I just keep thinking...

What will I do without my security blanket of school and PELL grants... how am I going to SURVIVE?? Eeekk!!!!

I think I'm just gonna go hide in my bedroom and watch reruns of Desperate Housewives while eating my Banana Cake with cream cheese frosting...

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Mormon Blogging World

Ok, people, everytime I get onto my blog, I start clicking around and looking at friends blogs and then I notice they're friends of my friends who I didn't know had blogs and those blogs lead to more random friend blogs and those blogs lead to more blogs... and suddenly I've tapped into this secret underground world of Mormon Bloggers. I am slightly alarmed at how many of you are actually on Blogger. (I can't even keep up with my "real-life friends and blog-only friends" list... see bottom right of page.)

It's a ~~MORMON MACHINATION CONVENTION~~

Sylvester captures my wonderment (sub "Mormons" for "cabbies" and anyone running by):

Sylvester Marcus: [Benji and Dingy run by] Who are they?

Mrs. Marcus: I don't know.

Sylvester Marcus: From this morning?

Mrs. Marcus: Yes.

Sylvester Marcus: [Captain Culpeper goes by] Who is he?

Mrs. Marcus: I don't know.

Sylvester Marcus: [Otto Meyer runs by] Who is he?

Mrs. Marcus: I don't know.

Sylvester Marcus: Mama, how many people are mixed up in this thing? [the two cab drivers run by]

Sylvester Marcus: Who are they? Cabbies? Mama, this thing is like a convention.