Focused Faith

So... faith. Is it easier said than done? For me - yeah, sometimes.

With my surgery, I kept telling myself to have faith and everything would work out. I had no trouble believing that God could heal me, but it has been a challenge to trust Him when I haven't been fully healed and have had to come up with plan B, then C, and so forth. I realized today how lame that is! Essentially that's me saying, "I choose to have faith that you can heal me, but when it doesn't happen the way I want and on my timetable, I start losing trust that you care what's going on." Like I said - LAME.

Today I was reading my journal from this year and found something I had forgotten a friend said to me. He said, 

"Trust that God knows what He's doing." 

I can hear you thinking DUH but I frequently need reminding of this. When I take the time to remember this principle, it becomes a "DUH! moment" because it really is obvious. I mean, God is God. Of course He knows exactly what He's doing even when we can't comprehend why or how or when or what He's doing.

Recovering from surgery hasn't been going as well or as fast as I'd hoped. As disappointing as that is, I do believe that God knows what He's doing. My inability to see His plan from start to finish is what makes it hard to accept any change in my plans. Hence a need for faith, right?!

Unfortunately, I tend to stunt my faith. For instance, I have to have the faith that Christ can heal my headaches, but I also have to have the faith to not be healed if that is His will instead. I need faith to go on a mission, but I also need the faith to not go on a mission if that is His will. So despite my circumstances, despite what I think is best, and despite what challenges I face, I need to focus my faith on my Savior - that He lives and loves me and has provided the way to salvation and joy in this life and the next. 

President Hinckley says it the best in one of my favorite quotes-

“We know not all that lies ahead of us. We live in a world of uncertainty.

For some, there will be great accomplishment.

For others, disappointment.

For some, much of rejoicing and gladness, good health, and gracious living.

For others, perhaps sickness and a measure of sorrow.

We do not know.

But one thing we do know.

Like the Polar Star in the heavens, regardless of what the future holds,

there stands the Redeemer of the world, the Son of God,

certain and sure as the anchor of our immortal lives.

He is the rock of our salvation, our strength, our comfort, the very focus of our faith.”

If that doesn't make your heart warm and happy, nothing else I say will! Happy Sunday, ya'll.

Always Better

As promised, I am blogging about the why, how, and when of my upcoming mission to Oklahoma City. The funny thing is that I don't really have great answers about any of those three things. So... enjoy!

Ever since I was a young girl, I've wanted to go on a mission. Both of my parents served missions and I think I wanted to be just like them. In high school, my friends and I discussed the possibility of serving and again, I felt that desire to go. Only then, a mission had become my own desire - I wanted to share the happiness and peace I felt from the knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Just two little sister missionaries :)

My senior year, I started attending a Mission Preparation class. My best friend, Courtney, and I would even put on our backpacks and ride our bikes to the church so we could feel more like missionaries.

After Austin's baptism - 3 happy happy people!

That same year, I watched my neighbor, Austin, learn about the gospel and get baptized. His testimony of the gospel was so strong and made me recognize how much it can bless other peoples' lives and completely transform them for the better. I love that kid! And I loved how happy the gospel made him. He used to shout out across the fence that separated our yards how many days left until he could get baptized. What a stud.

(He has a blog about his experiences in and out of the church that's powerful and honest. Here's a link if anyone wants to check it out - Prodigal Mormon)

Freshman year

After graduation, I headed to BYU and had a blast my freshman year! I met so many amazing people who taught me about the gospel and shared their testimony with me. Many of my friends left for missions after this year and I was always so jealous!

After Mihai's baptism

After my sophmore year in 2012, my life was changed when I went to Romania to volunteer in an orphanage. I learned about the importance of families and the strength and blessings that come from living the gospel. The members of The Church there are incredible! I met a young man, Mihai, during our time there who started learning about The Church. Mihai seemed to find so much happiness as he learned more about Jesus Christ and His plan for him. About a month before we left, Mihai decided to get baptized. I was lucky enough to sing at his baptism and it was so special. He was so happy after! My heart reminded me that day, again, of my desire to serve a mission.

When I returned home, I wanted that happiness I felt in Romania, from watching Mihai and loving those precious children, everyday for the rest of my life. I started thinking about preparing for a mission and the next May when I could start my application.

President Monson announcing the new missionary age requirements

On October 6, 2012, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints announced an age change for missionary service. Girls could now leave at age 19. I was soo excited! I was one of those girls that started planning to leave ASAP.  

Unfortunately, two days previous to the announcement, I started getting a headache, one that would stay another 22 months (and counting). I didn't know then that I was suffering from chronic occipital neuralgia. Because of my headaches, I was never able to start my application. My life for the last two years has consisted of many many doctors, medications, tests, pain, disappointments, confusion, and sadness. Through it all, I have watched many of my friends and others leave on missions. I tried to be happy for them, and I truly was, but it was also hard to know that I would probably not be able to go. At some point, I buried my desire to serve a mission because it was just easier that way.

Family!

Fortunately, the past two years have also been full of miracles and tender mercies from the Lord. Throughout everything, my family has been an incredible source of strength and support to me. They have encouraged me and comforted me. They have kept me laughing and looking at the positive. I am eternally grateful I get to be with them forever. I couldn't be where I am without them. And when I started thinking about a mission again, they were right there cheering me on.

I wanted them to let me wear this shirt in the OR. It didn't fly.

Another blessing has been discovering the source of my headaches. I had my occipital nerve decompression surgery in February. I didn't have the easiest time recovering, but slowly, I started getting better. 

Roommates of Stratford 304

While I was trying to get back to life and feel better, these girls were so supportive and encouraging and loving. Because of all the time I had to just sit and recover, I spent a lot of time having deep spiritual and gospel discussions with them. Many times, they would tell me about their missions and how much they loved them and loved the people they taught and met. I was sad that I would never get to go. But I enjoyed their stories and their testimonies. They strengthened me so much.

A couple of months ago, I was praying to have the right desires and really trying to humble myself to know the Lord's will for me. It was during this time that the desire, one I thought had died, came back like a present dropped on my lap. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but the desire to serve a mission came as an answer to my prayers and brought me great peace. Then I started thinking "Wait, I can't go on a mission!" After a long internal debate, I decided all the reasons TO go were way better than all the reasons NOT TO go. So I went forward with faith and started my papers for a mission, wondering how it would work out and if I would even be allowed with all my previous health challenges.

Hunter, me,  and our favorite book (Th Book of Mormon, of course!)

Many times during the process, I freaked out and decided I wasn't going or worried about all the reasons I was going to fail. Or what I would leave behind. Even though there are many potential reasons not to go, I have felt a lot of peace about it. Something that really helped me solidify my decision was working as a counselor at Especially For Youth (EFY). Not only was it a blast to hang out with awesome teenagers and fellow counselors, I got to teach about the gospel like I would on a mission. Sharing things like why I know Joseph Smith was a prophet who restored Christ's church again on the earth and why I believe the Book of Mormon is true, made me so happy! The gospel is joy to me. It's why I am the way I am. Any happiness I have is because of the gospel of Jesus Christ and sharing that at EFY was a great experience.

My mission call finally came after about 4 weeks of waiting. I had been praying for somewhere in the US and hopefully English speaking, to eliminate stress that makes my headaches worse. So reading "Dear Sister Borup" and "Oklahoma Oklahoma City Mission" and "English language" was a huge, huge answer to prayers! The fact that I even had a call in my hands was a miracle!

Once I had my call, it felt like everything started falling apart. I had heard that was common, but I wasn't truly prepared for it. I opened my call on a Monday and that Friday I was on the phone with my doctors in Houston discussing the possibility of a second surgery. My October 1st report date started slipping through my fingers faster than I could hold on to it. I started second guessing my decision to serve a mission at all. All the old fears and worries were coming back, a lot of them actually coming true. I didn't notice it at the time, but it was a classic pattern discussed by Elder Holland. In fact, I used this quote weekly with my EFY groups to describe how good things are often bookended with fear and challenges.

"With any major decision there are cautions and considerations to make, but once there has been illumination, beware the temptation to retreat from a good thing. If it was right when you prayed about it and trusted it and lived for it, it is right now. Don’t give up when the pressure mounts. Certainly don’t give in to that being who is bent on the destruction of your happiness. Face your doubts. Master your fears. “Cast not away therefore your confidence.” Stay the course and see the beauty of life unfold for you."

I knew that going on a mission was a good decision and the right one for me. My fears had just clouded that truth for a time. I'm grateful for good friends and family, for prayer, and for scriptures to turn to when I felt so confused and frustrated about the whole thing. Because, truly, this past month has felt like a whole year. I found out on my birthday that I would indeed need another surgery. Life certainly is good at making the journey interesting, eh?!

Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if I'll eventually get on a mission (although that's still the plan) or if I'll have to come home early, or if I'll ever get my headaches fixed or if this upcoming surgery will help. Or if there's a completely different route for me. I straight up just do not know. But I have faith in someone who does. My Heavenly Father knows exactly what's best for me and I have to trust that if I do or don't get better when I do, that it is what's best for me. Going in for surgery tomorrow brings a lot of emotions. Today my doctor told me I may feel better in a couple days/weeks, or it might take a lot longer. Initially that scared and frustrated me. I don't want to wait. I want to go on a mission in October like planned. I was tempted to ask, "Why does this always have to be so hard? Why can't things just work out like I plan them?"

Temples reassure me that God loves us and has a plan for us

But if there's one thing that I've (supposedly) learned from my life thus far, it's that God's plan is always better. It's not always easier - in fact, that's rarely the case - but it is always better. And that is something I can have faith in.

Surgery and So Many Blessings

There is so much good in life. I have been extremely blessed to be the recipient of so much of that goodness. It would be quite easy to focus on the negatives and the disappointments and pain in the last 18 months of my life, but I am very sure there has been more good than bad, more blessings than hardships.

I want to start changing the way that I blog, and while that means that I will actually do it sometimes, it more importantly means that I want it to be more positive in nature. I’ve had fun writing about stories that 99% of the time involve making fun of myself, but it’s time for me to blog about more than just those socially awkward moments (though there are plenty to tell). This post will be the first of many more to come that will reveal a more complete and whole version of myself. There’s so much that I haven’t written about that I would really enjoy sharing. Of course there will still be the funny stories, but there’s so many other things I want to include on this blog! Here goes!

In a way, this transition is reflective in my own life. This used to be an outlet for my awkwardness and, more honestly, shame over certain social situations and personality characteristics. I don’t know what’s changed, but I feel more comfortable in my own skin now. Maybe I needed this chronic illness, that has taken so many things that I thought essential to who I am, to figure out what’s truly important and why I am worthy of love and belonging.

Today (ok I'm an hour late, but on the 4th) marks the 18 month anniversary for the beginning of my headaches and 2 months post-op!

Here's the surgery story/update:

*Disclaimer: If you get grossed out by blood, don't scroll down for the surgery pictures.

My dad and I arrived in Houston and I went to various appointments the day before the surgery. I remember them repeating a lot of what had been said when I went in December, and to be honest, I didn’t absorb much because I was pretty nervous and my head was pounding. But those appointments reminded me that the surgery required a lot of recovery and care. The night before I felt a lot of peace about the whole thing as I prayed. I felt SO many prayers from friends and family. I have never felt the power of having so many people pray for me. I never understood when people said they could “feel” the prayers of others on their behalf, but now I get it. I felt so supported and loved and I knew that even if things didn’t go well, I had an amazing support system and people who would help me through it.

I wanted to wear my #usofkate shirt, but they made me wear a gown.

The day of the surgery I woke up feeling good and anxious to get started. Luckily, I had to be there early so I didn’t have to wait long. The closer we got to the surgery center, the more anxious I got. Any nerves I had were about how I would feel after I woke up. Having prayed about the whole procedure for so long, I felt confident in Dr. Perry and his team and their ability to perform the surgery well. But boy was I nervous when the nurse came in to put my IV in! So nervous, that I had a hard time distracting myself, and the next thing I knew, I was lying back in the chair with a couple nurses and my dad looking down on me. Passing out from needles isn’t anything new, I guess. Still embarrassing though. A few jokes later (from every person in the surgery center, mind you), and I was on the gurney with a couple surgical assistants/nurses distracting me with funny stories while another nurse stuck me with an IV. I was relieved it only took two tries! The last thing I remember is the surgical assistant asking me lots of questions that I knew the answers to but couldn’t quite reply as my body started to react to the anesthesia. 

Here’s what they did while I was out:

It's tricky to explain, but these are essentially before and after photos of the incisions they made. They decompressed the nerves and removed the scar tissue. So gross, I know.

Waking up went less smoothly. All I remember is a big blue bucket… a couple blue buckets, actually. I should’ve named them. Unfortunately, I was too busy throwing up what little I had in my stomach to worry about that. They kept thinking I was done so they’d throw away the bucket and then I’d need one again several minutes later. Normal post-surgery time in the recovery room is about 30-60 minutes. I’m pretty sure I both set a new record and managed to ruin multiple nurses’ dinner plans by sticking around for 210 minutes – that’s 3.5 hours, people. Surgery prep started at 9am and I did not leave the surgery center until 6:30pm. It was a really long day to say the least. I have never felt so miserable in my life. But getting back to the hotel was really great because I could finally lay down and hold my souvenir blue bucket in front of my face in peace, with no one telling me to do this or that. Dad was awesome and made sure that I got something to eat and that I was taking all my meds at the right time. He helped me get propped up at the 45 degree angle I slept in for the two weeks after surgery, get ice on my neck, and drain my brain juice from my pain pump. What a gem!

Imagine my surprise to discover that they had shaved half my head! So trendy...

The days following the surgery in Houston were both worse and better than I expected. For some reason I had it in my mind that recovering from head surgery wouldn’t be all that bad and I would just wake up without a headache. I don’t know where that came from, but it has really messed with my ability to mentally handle the challenge of recovery. The pain after surgery was compounded with the pre-surgery headache and to say that I was hurting is an understatement. Luckily, I have amazing friends and family and doctors to help me out and keep my spirits up! I am so incredibly grateful to everyone who prayed for me, called me, texted me, stopped by to see me, sent packages, etc! WOW am I blessed! Realizing and feeling so much love from those I love has been one of my greatest blessings and treasures through this whole journey. It’s amazing.

I’m glad to say that after two months post-surgery, I am feeling better. I still haven’t had any headache-free moments, but the surgery pain has mostly gone away and I can function for the most part on my own. The doctors are hopeful that I will start to feel better soon. I pray that I do. In the mean time, I’ve been resting, relaxing, and occasionally getting out and doing fun things again!

Thank you again to everyone who continually keeps me in their thoughts and prayers and keeps me thinking positively!

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is that when I put God first, nothing else matters. When I don’t, I’m not as happy, no matter what my life circumstance is. During this chronic pain, I’ve felt closer to Heavenly Father than any other time in my life. I love relying on Him and trusting in His grace and timing. I know that as long as I am obedient to the covenants I’ve made to love Him and love His children, I will be okay in the long run. This life is such a gift and the hard experiences are just opportunities to increase love and grow. With faith in Christ, life is good. 

Dropped On My Head.

It's been awhile. I blame my head. But lately that's all I seem to do, so maybe I'll blame my laziness instead. Yes, that's better. Speaking of my head, I have TONS of funny stories to post. Seriously. Being able to laugh at myself has been extremely helpful during the last year of my life... otherwise, I'm pretty sure I'd have some serious issues. Or more issues than normal.

So my headache. Yes headache, not headaches. Just to review or if you didn't know, it all started last October when I felt like I was getting sick. A horrible headache came on all of a sudden and... we've been together ever since. So bottom line, I've had a headache since October with varying degree of pain and so far, no doctor has been able to figure it out.

I've had/done/tried/begged for/been coerced into/endured:

-migrane medication
-CT scan
-ER cocktail mixture (meds)
-MRI scan
-beta blockers
-anti-epilepsy meds
-multiple blood tests (too many to count)
-ENT visit to check for contact points
-occipital nerve block
-Botox injections
-spinal tap
-TENS muscle stimulation
-narcotic/serious pain meds
-anti-imflammatory meds
-massage
-acupuncture
-allergy elimination diets

-AND pretty much every medication (and therefore more side effects than I care to remember) my neurologist could think of before he deemed my case as hopeless (more or less). True story - my neurologist gave up on me. Haha. Currently, I am treating a disease I got diagnosed with about a month ago through hormone replacement therapy and my new (favorite) nurse practitioner is hoping maybe it'll also help my headaches.

Hopefully this paints a picture at how desperate I have been/am for an answer to why I am constantly having a headache. Not only has it been completely exhausting physically, it's been emotionally draining. My doctors recommended seeing a counselor because of how emotionally taxing a chronic illness can be. I have always been wary of counselors/therapists, but honestly, I think everyone should have a therapist. It's seriously the best thing. Sometimes we don't even really talk about anything in particular, but having that third party outlet is oddly refreshing and relieving. I used to think that only crazy people saw therapists and I've been very hesitant to tell people I have one. But I think it's important to be open about it so I don't perpetuate the stereotype that only people who are skitzo or totally wack can have therapists. But maybe you're reading this and you think I fit into that category. Hopefully not. Anyways, I thought I'd throw that in here because I have some pretty strong feelings about the whole counselor/therapist thing. Get one.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, headaches suck. But what I'm trying to say is if you ask me, "Have you tried ____?" The answer is probably yes. Sometimes it's exhausting when people are constantly telling me to try this or that. But that's not to say I'm not extremely grateful for all the support I've gotten throughout this whole thing. It's really humbling actually. There is just so much concern for me from friends and family. I'm so blessed.

Probably the funniest thing is people will ask me, "Did you hit your head or something and you just don't remember?" Well, most likely I was dropped on my head as a child, but I use that to cover my other weird quirks, so I've been racking my brain to think if something else comes to mind. Surprise! I finally thought of something... well that's a lie - I found two pictures.

You're going to think I'm a nerd (if you don't already) for taking pictures, but I really wanted to post about these falls to show how clumsy I am. But now I'm thinking maybe I really DO have head trauma.

Event #1: I was on my bike and I didn't see this huge pile of dirt as I raced down the driveway. Hit the dirt and thud! I was going to post about how I was on my way to Brady and Alyssa's apartment - hence the things I do for a social life. Ha! PS it was dark when this actually happened which is why I didn't see it. I was still laughing about it the next day so I took a picture.

Event #2: Short story - I forgot something and ran back inside to get it on my way to a wedding. Stopped short because I forgot running in the snow is a bad idea.

So there you have it. Maybe my brain is just rattling around because I fall so often and the doctors don't have the heart to tell me I'm just clumsy and that's all there is to it. Case solved! So let it be known that the answer is YES! I have fallen and hit my head! Multiple times. Maybe that's why I have a headache. But probably these pictures only prove that I'm a nerd who documents her own clumsiness for other people to enjoy.

Finals and Friends

 

In honor of BYU finals wrapping up, I thought I'd finally write this long overdue post. This is probably one of the select stories that I hope I never forget. Fortunately, it is immortalized on camera.

Keep in mind that although this experience was funny (at least to us), the moral of the story is "Finals Week breeds friendship."

*You can read the following for the context, but skipping straight to the video works too.*

Scene: Courtney and Sydney and I are sitting in our living room reading, because in Court's family it is a tradition to read a Christmas story every night in December. We are also waiting for her visiting teachers* to show up.

*Visiting teacher = In our church we have pairs of girls in the wards who visit each girl to get to know them and to make sure they are doing alright and to help them in any way they need. They usually come to say hi/talk and share an uplifting message once a month. Its a system of having each others' backs making sure everyone gets taken care of and has someone to be there for them, and provides an opportunity to serve each other.

Because of the situation of all three of us being in the same room, Sydney and I decide to just hang out and listen while Courtney talks to the two girls who came to see her (which is not usually the case and I don't know why we stayed but I think we were just lazy and didn't feel like standing up).

How it all started: Obviously everyone's minds were on finals and so Syd and I listened to the updates of how each girl's exams were going, what they were nervous for, etc... Somewhere in the conversation, our friend, Jess (one of Courtney's visiting teachers), mentioned that she was concerned about waking up the next morning for an early final. We brainstormed a couple ideas - maybe a louder alarm or going to bed earlier - but apparently none of that was going to help. And as is Courtney's way, she asked if she could help somehow.

Courtney asked if she could come knock on the door to help Jess get up or maybe check on her to make sure she was up before she needed to be leaving the apartment. Well that wasn't going to cut it. Brainstorming ensued...

Open the window and let the cold air wake her up?

Too boring.

Knock on her window with a piece of wood?

Not loud enough.

Open her window and shoot her with a nerf gun?

Too soft.

Poke her with a stick or other long object, perhaps a wooden spoon?

Perfect.

Mission WOODEN SPOON: After multiple failed test runs of nerf gun target practice (apparently too soft to wake someone up), it was agreed upon that this was an acceptable plan and would likely be successful. It was only after Jess and Lisa left our apartment that we realized what we had agreed to. Although we had agreed to wake up extremely early, we couldn't stop laughing so it took us awhile to get to sleep. All I could think was, "Is this for real?" But ultimately we hoped we could all help each other out and make Jess' morning a success! Plus, who doesn't want an extremely unique adventure at 4 in the morning???

Before I release this video for your enjoyment, please keep in mind that it was very early for all of the people involved, so lack of fashion, strange comments, and red eyes are part of the deal. It's just a fun story and we all had a good laugh, SO... don't whip out your popcorn and haterade to watch this haha.

So whether you're failing all of your exams or getting negative hours of sleep or you wore the same outfit everyday of finals, remember that finals week is not inherently evil. Just grab a nerf gun, wooden spoon, fencing sword, or other weapon of your own choosing and poke someone with it. I promise it will either give you a great story or land you in jail... which, in the end, makes for a good story.

There's always room for some of these (especially if you're "studying" right now):

 

Not alone

Well I've been wondering if my life is unusually full of awkward, painful moments and experiences. Today I realized I am not alone. In fact, my experiences are nothing compared to some. Here is one that made me laugh so hard I cried. It is the funniest thing I've ever read/imagined.

http://hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/

My sympathy also goes out to these people... or my gratitude for their humor.

One in a million

*Names have been changed to protect identities, but, if we are being honest and realistic, mine is the only one that really needs it.

Today I ran into a friend from high school who I haven't seen in a really long time. We chatted for a little while and since we are at BYU, of course the subject of dating came up. After taking some time away from the dating scene and being in Romania, I've become very detached from the notion of dates. So when this friend, we will call her Wemily, asked me if I wanted to go on a date, I did the normal, "Oh definitely/ I'm totally a cool girl/ who wouldn't want to date me?" thing. Unfortunately, I wasn't even considering the possibility that it would be so soon. All of a sudden I was volunteered to go on the infamous BLIND DATE for that evening.

BLIND DATE= noun. (1) An incredibly unfortunate way of meeting new people that usually ends up in more than one  awkward friend who you only know as the person you once embarrassed yourself in front of by doing that one thing you do that only your mom thinks is "special." (2) A dating activity beginning with high expectations, resulting with much lower success rates.

Anyways... it's 8pm and I have an hour before the date starts. I get ready. It's 8:07. I try to read about epigenesis in my textbook but after ten minutes, I'm still reading the same paragraph without anything sticking. I go and chow down on some carrots. 8:20. I have no idea what I did for the next 40 minutes... it's all an unproductive blur.

Wemily texts me about 8:45. "Text you when we are on our way"

"Ok call me if you get lost"

9:00 No text.

9:13

9:33

9:48 Ok time to figure out if this date is happening or not. Call Wemily.

No cell service.

Oh, poop.

By this point, I realize that despite not moving my phone from its spot on my desk, I am in a dead zone and am most likely the problem for not currently being on a date.

Oh, poop.

Now I'm running around my apartment trying to find a spot that will let me call Wemily and explain the situation. It's full on Lion King with my phone. I am super embarrassed because I realize that they have probably been searching and trying to find my remote apartment with no help from me for the past hour. I try not to think about it though. I try all the usual spots with no luck. I go outside and run around outside. Still no luck. I pace around my apartment feeling completely out of options, then I see the balcony. One last chance, I think. (Dramatic, much?)

Out on the balcony I tried calling Wemily, my best friend, her bf, my mom... you get the picture. I was desperate - I did not want to look like a completely incompetent idiot. I finally give up and turn to go back inside.

Oh, poop.

You may soon be wondering this question, "What sort of incompetent idiot closes the door behind her just to find service on the balcony? Isn't that completely inefficient and dumb?" Don't worry people, I asked myself the same question when I realized the door lock had slipped down when I closed it and I was now locked outside on my balcony with no cell service. Believe me when I say I tried extremely hard to open the stupid door. It only made me look like a bigger idiot.

So I'm stuck on my balcony. A group walks below and I pretend that I am on my balcony of my own free will, just chilling. Believe me, it was hard to hide the panic and gross realization off my face. Luckily they ignored me for the most part and were speaking Chinese so even if they commented on my situation, I had no clue.

Stuck, stuck, stuck. My only options are to get someone to go in through my apartment and unlock the door or climb over the balcony and make the jump down. There's no way I'm subjecting myself to more embarrassment so logically I secure my useless phone and climb over the balcony. On my descent down, I am very aware that this choice may be even more embarrassing if someone walked by mid-monkey pose and if I happened to break my ankle it'd make the whole situation even more comical. Only not.

Fortunately, I stick the landing and upon entering my apartment I finally get through to Wemily. I haven't used that many "sorry!"s in a really long time. Wemily tells me that my date is on his way to pick me up and has my number in case he gets lost. Because we know how well that worked out last time. I say sorry one more time and mention my apartment number.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to say, I'm in number 2! Ok bye!"

This doesn't seem odd or funny until you know that I do not, in fact, live in apartment 2. What possessed me to say that, you might ask? Probably the evil dating god that has obviously been facilitating my dating life the past couple years. But no, I have no idea why I said that.

So I plant myself in a spot that I know I have service in and wait.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Eleven minutes.

Twelve minutes.

Knock, knock, knock on my door.

OK. Sigh of relief. The wild goose chase is finally over. I open the door and there stands my date. We introduce ourselves and walk to his car. I'm feeling really bad about the whole thing, but try to forget about it and just have a fun time. But little do I know, there is so much more to this story.

Remember that whole lapse of sanity when I said I lived in #2? Well since my date was not a mind reader or given some sort of inspiration/revelation as to where I actually live (although that would have been a sweet tender mercy that he probably deserved), he, being completely rational, went to #2.

"Hi, is Chelsea here?"

"Oh yeah let me get her." says random roommate in #2.

Oh, poop.

WHAT ARE THE CHANCES. One in a million.

So "Chelsea" comes to the door in her basketball shorts and t-shirt looking completely intrigued as to who her visitor is. This is the problem with blind dates. You walk into them completely blind. And you know what happens when you move the furniture around in a blind person's home.

"Hi I'm Wryan, are you ready to go on our date?"

You can imagine the surprise written across other Chelsea's face. "Umm... what are you talking about? Who are you again?"

"I'm your date...? You know, Wemily set us up and it's been a crazy time trying to find you. Am I missing something?"

"Yeah, I don't know anything about this date... Are you sure you're in the right place?"

This conversation is completely an invention of my imagination as to what took place, because I was actually just sitting in my kitchen waiting with no knowledge of the proceedings taking place downstairs.

Luckily, by one more random coincidence, one of Wryan's friends happened to be hanging out in that apartment so they put their heads together and figured out what had happened. Thanks to our super awesome ward clerk, they managed to find me on the ward directory, leading him to my correct door... probably thinking I was soo not worth the effort (I was thinking the same thing, but don't worry - I decided I totally am. Ha.).

So there you have it. The date was fun and provided a lot more good laughs, mostly at my expense, but still fun. If nothing else, it made for a great blog post.

Moral of the story: In NO circumstance should you close a balcony door behind you when you are alone at home. Or agree to a blind date when you are having a completely-incompetent-idiot sort of day. Or ask me on a date for any other purpose than entertainment and a legendary dating story to tell your grandchildren.


*Funny note: When my date was at #2, he tried calling me... of course my worthless-piece-of-crap phone received no call. Curse you evil dating god. You're ruining my life.