My Uncle Adam is a psychologist. He has his PhD and everything. He is a genius in my eyes as of this moment in time. Why? Because I have nearly failed every psychology test I have taken this year. Those questions are unlike any test questions I have ever seen. They are so indepth that it's confusing. I called myself a failure....until today. I got a 74% on my test today. And I nearly cried for joy. A 74 makes me immensely happy. Isn't that depressing? My uncle will forever be a genius for going through a billion insane psychology tests resulting in his PhD.
In other news, midterms came today. I'm going to have to get used to grades lower than an A. College is hard. But I'm doing better than I expected...passing every class and all that jazz. Maybe next semester, I will figure things out and get A's! ..........
To Bountiful tomorrow! I can't wait to see my family. :)
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Halloween is a Scam
Once upon a time in a boring town called Rexburg, nothing ever happened. The end.
Just kidding. No but seriously. Nothing ever happens here. Downtown Rexburg looks like the street from South Davis Jr. High to Kmart in Bountiful. Tiny. So I'm afraid my blog is going to suffer. However, I do have one exciting happening in my life, and it goes a little something like this:
Two weeks ago, a timid "mother" of a Family Home Evening group had the fantasticly fantastic idea to take her "children" to a Haunted Mill in a certain town called Teton. Monday's were getting awkward as everyone sat in a circle inside trying to find exciting things to do, so "mom" decided it was time to get out and have a little fun.
(P.S. - I'm the "mom" in case it wasn't clear.)
We drove up in three cars and arrived at the mill just before the mad rush hit. It was Monday night after all, and many FHE groups from BYU-I would be coming soon. We all got in line in the middle of nowhere, blackness surrounding us as an eery old building stood off to the side of us. All was well, jokes being made, laughter being heard, until out of the corner of my eye, I saw two figures start to move, two figures who had previously been immobile: A dead bride with a wicked discusting face (Crap. I'm turning into Brynn. Who says wicked? Honestly.) and a gross zombie. And then it hit me.
My name is Deborah and I do not enter haunted houses of any sort or engage in any kind of halloween fun, for I hate Halloween and think it is a barbaric holiday made up just so people can get away with terrifying others.
And the panic set in. And I started to get this odd urge to smack the person who had the idea to bring us all here. Until I realized. It was me.
I'm a smart mom.
To make a long story even longer, near hyperventilation ensued until my "children" had to literally drag me into the mill. Kenyan, my "son," was in the lead, and I swear I broke his hand with how hard I was gripping it, although he says it didn't even feel like I was holding his hand. Maybe he was trying to act like a man? I don't know. Either way, I'm convinced his hand was broken by the end. And then Brynn was behind me. We broke each other's wrists.
Monsters jumped out at me. I hit my head and knee on the walls like the klutz that I am (I somehow knew I would be getting hurt. After all, if anyone were to get hurt, it would be me.) A chainsaw man chased after me and tried to saw my face off. A creepy monster ran his discusting fingers along my face. In short, I was dragged through that mill saying, "Don't let go, Don't let go, Get me out of here, Don't let go," the whole 30 minutes.
I don't know, but I'm pretty sure the "mom" is supposed to comfort the "children," not the other way around.
Basically, I quit on Halloween. I've had my scare for my lifetime. I'm movin' on to Thanksgiving and Christmas now.
THE END
P.S. - My older sister is going to the Phillipines in March for her mission. :) :)
Just kidding. No but seriously. Nothing ever happens here. Downtown Rexburg looks like the street from South Davis Jr. High to Kmart in Bountiful. Tiny. So I'm afraid my blog is going to suffer. However, I do have one exciting happening in my life, and it goes a little something like this:
Two weeks ago, a timid "mother" of a Family Home Evening group had the fantasticly fantastic idea to take her "children" to a Haunted Mill in a certain town called Teton. Monday's were getting awkward as everyone sat in a circle inside trying to find exciting things to do, so "mom" decided it was time to get out and have a little fun.
(P.S. - I'm the "mom" in case it wasn't clear.)
We drove up in three cars and arrived at the mill just before the mad rush hit. It was Monday night after all, and many FHE groups from BYU-I would be coming soon. We all got in line in the middle of nowhere, blackness surrounding us as an eery old building stood off to the side of us. All was well, jokes being made, laughter being heard, until out of the corner of my eye, I saw two figures start to move, two figures who had previously been immobile: A dead bride with a wicked discusting face (Crap. I'm turning into Brynn. Who says wicked? Honestly.) and a gross zombie. And then it hit me.
My name is Deborah and I do not enter haunted houses of any sort or engage in any kind of halloween fun, for I hate Halloween and think it is a barbaric holiday made up just so people can get away with terrifying others.
And the panic set in. And I started to get this odd urge to smack the person who had the idea to bring us all here. Until I realized. It was me.
I'm a smart mom.
To make a long story even longer, near hyperventilation ensued until my "children" had to literally drag me into the mill. Kenyan, my "son," was in the lead, and I swear I broke his hand with how hard I was gripping it, although he says it didn't even feel like I was holding his hand. Maybe he was trying to act like a man? I don't know. Either way, I'm convinced his hand was broken by the end. And then Brynn was behind me. We broke each other's wrists.
Monsters jumped out at me. I hit my head and knee on the walls like the klutz that I am (I somehow knew I would be getting hurt. After all, if anyone were to get hurt, it would be me.) A chainsaw man chased after me and tried to saw my face off. A creepy monster ran his discusting fingers along my face. In short, I was dragged through that mill saying, "Don't let go, Don't let go, Get me out of here, Don't let go," the whole 30 minutes.
I don't know, but I'm pretty sure the "mom" is supposed to comfort the "children," not the other way around.
Basically, I quit on Halloween. I've had my scare for my lifetime. I'm movin' on to Thanksgiving and Christmas now.
THE END
P.S. - My older sister is going to the Phillipines in March for her mission. :) :)
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