The problem with Sherlock...

The best shows in the world are British shows.

Doctor Who

Downton Abbey

Sherlock 

Fawlty Towers(Don't judge me...)

I'm aware that there are more, but I haven't gotten around to watching them. If I left your beloved British show out, don't kill me.

Sherlock is amazing. I'll start by saying that, so all the Sherlockians will put away their guns and listen for a minute.

I was told by multiple people to watch Sherlock. Much like when I started watching Doctor Who, I resisted everyone's requests, because I was like "I don't need another show". Well...I watched it. With high expectations. Which were NOT disappointed. HOWEVER, I see one problem to this show.

There are 3 episodes in each season, with only 2 seasons. 6 episodes. Besides the fact that I would've liked more time to drool over the awesome that is this show, it left me with almost no emotional attachment to the characters. Even though each episode is an hour and a half long, I didn't feel as attached to them as I felt I should be. And don't kill me for saying this, but I didn't cry at all during the last episode. 

I wanted to. I felt emotionally upset, but not enough to make me want to cry.

I have a heart, people. I cry all the time. I just didn't feel attached enough to the characters. If Moffat had made 6 45 minute episodes per season, I probably would've felt more attached. "It's the same amount of time!" you declare, brandishing your pitchforks. I think that part of the problem here is that the episodes were so long so you could get to know the MYSTERY more, rather than getting to know the characters more. By shortening the episode, you can't put as much information into the mystery, and the emphasis is put on the character. I'm not saying that you don't get to know the characters, stop making assumptions about me. You do, but not as well as I would've liked. MAYBE the show wouldn't be as good if the episodes were shorter. I don't know, I'm not Moffat. 

My heart wrenched when Watson stood over Sherlock's grave(SPOILERS) and said, "Don't be dead" and I screamed and felt like throwing my iPod across the room when I saw Sherlock standing at the outskirts of the cemetery(SPOILERS). I felt emotions, but it felt like everything happened a little too fast. You didn't have enough time to know Sherlock, or understand Watson, or begin to comprehend their relationship. SO much happens between episodes, as they imply, and you're like, "WHY DIDN'T YOU MAKE THAT INTO AN EPISODE!?" Why Moffat, Why?? I know you're reading this. Apologize.

I love the series. Please, I'm serious, put away your clubs. 

I blame Moffat for this problem.

Bet you didn't know...

1. My best friend is my puppy.

2. I like to stick my magic wand out my window as I drive and yell spells and curses at pedestrians.

3. When Someone Like You by Adele comes on the radio, I roll down the windows and blast it, no matter the weather.

4. I know almost every word to Thriftshop. I like that kinda music. 

5. I secretly like One Direction. Guess it ain't much of a secret anymore...

6. I cry a lot.

7. I sometimes like math...

8. I would rather be sitting in a pool of my own sweat than have it be cold.

9. I have a weakness for Easter Candy. 

10. A compliment on my appearance will make my day.

11. I dye my hair because I'm insecure.

12. My mother is one of my very best friends.

13. If I forget to put earrings on in the morning, my day is ruined. (Sorta)

14. I love Jenna Marbles.

15. I hate cats and most small dogs. Like, almost every one.

16. I spend most of my time WISHING I was eating.

17. I am not afraid to make an absolute fool of myself in public.

18. I get really proud if I can do more pushups/situps than a guy.

19. I'd rather watch Doctor Who with my five year old brother than with anyone else.

20. I watch Pretty Little Liars...and this I'm somewhat ashamed of...

21. I have insomnia.

22. I like Jack Johnson.

23. I like The Red Hot Chili Peppers.

24. I'd rather eat a hamburger without a bun...even if a gluten free bun is available.

25. Some of my favorite clothes are ones that I've made/altered.

Peace out, homies. Enjoy your tuesday. 

Sacrifice for love

There are a lot of things in life that can't be explained. I'm an explainer, or a fixer. I like to make sure everyone fully understands things, is totally prepared, before they begin something.

Because of this innate tendency, the last week has been especially hard.

Sometimes you're faced with a decision so immense, so crucial, that the weight of it keeps you up at night sobbing, the air in you lungs feels strange, like it shouldn't be there, and you can only think, "someone else will come take this responsibility."

But no one does. It's part of growing up. There comes a point in your life when you can no longer expect those responsible for you to take on your burdens and make your decisions for you. There comes a time where you have to go beyond what you're capable.

This past week, I had to make the hardest decision of my life. It's a decision that's been eating away at me for months. Almost a year. It's been a constant battle inside of me. Do I do the obviously RIGHT thing, or do I do the easier thing? The right thing causes pain for multiple parties. The easy thing causes no pain for me. But it causes a great deal of pain for someone I care deeply for.

This past week I put the inner battle aside and faced my fears. My fears of loss, of being hated, and abandonment.

Friday morning I had the hardest conversation of my life. I said things I didn't want to say. My brain was SCREAMING. at me to shut up. To say, "April fools everything is fine". But I couldn't. A conversation quickly went from "How is it being a new adult?" to "this is really serious". As I hung up the phone I was holding back tears, my mom hugging me as I gave in and started sobbing. She assured me that I'd done the right thing. I knew I had, but you just feel so bad. I betrayed someone's trust so utterly and completely, as a trade for their safety. Safety they didn't know they were missing.

Moments after I'd calmed down, my greatest fears were confirmed, the effects had started, the hatred set into place. My mom had turned around for a moment, to put away laundry. I fell to the ground, a choked scream escaping my throat, the tears coming down my face in a waterfall.

I cried the rest of the day and into the night.

This was a very painful experience. Although I wish I could change the outcome, I don't regret the decision I made. Because I *know* that I was put in this persons life for a reason. Not only as a source of comfort, for the both of us, over the past few years, but to save her. To save her from the fate that was waiting her. To be her only friend brave enough to put my foot down and say, "this isn't okay".

I lost my best friend on Friday. And not a day has gone past that I don't break down in tears. There is nothing I have ever done that's harder, no one I've mourned over more, than my best friend.

Sometimes we have to make hard decisions. A decision to put aside the comfort of a friendship for someone else's well being. To say, "I love you more than me. I love you SO much that I'll sacrifice my happiness for yours." And sure, that happiness isn't immediate. But it's coming.

There is nothing worse than the loss of your best friend. Ever. To know that there is ONE person on the planet that you could say ANYTHING to, and not get judged, the one person you don't compare yourself to, the one person you love more than yourself, to know they hate you...it is the most heart wrenching feeling.

Sometimes there are decisions that seem impossible to take on. Decisions so immense that you scream for someone to lift them off. But once you stop AVOIDING that decision, the ball begins rolling. Things begin changing, improving. And someday down the road, I hope with all my heart that she can look back and say, "I am so grateful for what she did for me." And hey, if she can't, I don't blame her. But I know that I've done what I can to make her life better and that's all I can hope my friends would do for me.

A little bird told me it was your birthday. I ate him.

Although it is only about 10 AM, I have already had multiple people complain to me because I "hate my birthday".

When I tell people that I don't like my birthday, one of their first reactions is this. I would like a chance to explain myself.

I love birthdays. I love celebrating birthdays. I am not a hermit. BUT, I am not a big fan of my own birthday. Why, you ask?

Birthdays bring this sense of entitlement. "Well, it's my birthday, so..." I don't approve of this, unless you're wanting free food and you have a coupon.

On your birthday, you have this expectation. You expect everybody to remember, everyone to throw you surprise parties, you expect SOMEBODY to show up with a birthday crown and a cupcake to shove up your nose while singing "Happy Birthday" in Swahili. You. Expect. A. Lot. And the hard reality of it is that it almost NEVER happens that way.

Now, this isn't a bad thing. I mean, *I* don't remember everyone's birthdays, so it's perfectly okay that people forget mine. This isn't a problem. I'm going to take you back through time...

Last year, the night before my 17th birthday, I was really upset. I was DREADING my birthday. 17 isn't that big of a deal, you're stuck between two big numbers. Not only did ALL of my friends live out of town, but they were all getting together, from different places across Alaska, to hang out all day. And that had me a bit down. I mean, there was no way they could invite me, duh. And there was no way they could reschedule it, BUT it had me down. I had very low expectations for my birthday. And I was pleasantly surprised. For 20 minutes until Midnight my time, Helen sent me a text, counting down until I was 17. Right around midnight, I got 5 or 6 voice mails from friends, wishing me happy birthday. Most of them called MOSTLY because Helen told them to, but I didn't care. Helen came to class that day ON TIME so she could get the class to sing to me. Which is a big deal. Now, even though that's not like a HUGE thing, those few things totally turned my day around, for the first part of the day. The rest of the day sorta sucked, but that was expected.

When your birthday comes around, you expect it to be wonderful. I mean, you deserve that, right? But it almost NEVER turns out how you want it. And the way I see it, it's best to see your birthday as a normal day. Just a normal old day. Then, if someone does something extraordinarily nice for your birthday, you're not expecting it and it's even better. But then, when NOTHING happens, you're not sobbing on your bed because no one loves you. I mean, come on people. I'm just being realistic.

I'm not being a pessimist. I'm not being grumpy or ungrateful. I'm not looking for more "Happy Birthday Aurora!"s, I get plenty of those on facebook. I'm not looking for anyone to feel sorry for me. I'm just explaining myself, because everyone seems so confused with my outlook.

So, yes, this is why I've told anyone that will listen to me that my birthday was two days ago. And I didn't want anyone in my Seminary class to know/remember that it was my birthday today, which is why I got a little mad when Jodi announced it. Now you're probably sitting there, SUPER confused. You're like, "someone remembered...shouldn't you be happy??" No. Here's why. Once the people in my class knew it was my birthday it was, "let's sing Happy Birthday REALLY loud so Aurora will turn BRIGHT RED." and there's second guessing everything I'm doing. "Oh, you're wearing a scarf today? Why did you dress up? Cuz it's your birthday?" Like, really people. -_- Come on. Those people in my class aren't close, very few of them I consider to be friends. It's just an awkward experience.

So far, my mother has been more excited for my birthday than me. I was laying in my bed, reading for school and she came in and practically JUMPED on my bed, kissed my cheek, and started talking about how excited she was, and she almost started crying because I'm turning 18 and this is a big deal and all. I love my mom, and I really don't mind that. There's a very fine line between what pisses me off for my birthday, and what is perfectly acceptable. I'm not saying I'm not excited for my birthday or the celebration I'll be having on Friday. I'm not saying that. It's kinda hard to explain, and many of you will be super confused still. Eh, it happens.

I'm not a big fan of it. I'm not gonna turn you down if you wish me happy birthday, but I sure as heck won't bring attention to it in public settings. And I'll probably tell you that I hate my birthday, because it's just a normal Wednesday for me. I'm still gonna go to school, do homework, and poop. It's a normal day. And I'm perfectly okay with that. I just felt the need to explain myself a little bit.

Peace out homies. Happy Wednesday. ;)

"God gave her the strength to fly..."

I have attempted, unsuccessfully, to drop off the face of the planet. But, I am back again because I failed.

I have been incredibly busy in the past few months. I mean, it makes sense, right? It's my senior year, which comes with a lot of business. Since school started up again in January it's been crazy. It really hit me that this is my LAST semester in Highschool. I've been REALLY trying to get really good grades, which has meant an increased amount of time devoted to studies. And college. College, people, is a big deal. Since the semester began, I really started working towards knowing what I want out of life. I used to have a very definite plan. I wanted to be a concert pianist, have a few kids, graduate from the music program at BYU, and that was it. It was a plan. However, it's changed. Since last summer, I've been kinda going in and out of my plans for college. At first, it was BYU-I. NO ONE could persuade me different. Then I visited SVU and I was like, "Holy shiznicklebiscuits, I'm going here." And then after some conversations with my boyfriend(at the time) in August, I decided maybe BYU would be nice. And then Helen and I were gonna go to the West Coast and be roomies and life would be perfect. And then this past semester it was like, "LET'S DO ALL OF THEM AT THE SAME TIME." My brain didn't really like that...

After working my sweet little butt off, I sent in all my applications and I've been sitting back, waiting for responses. About a month ago, I decided, just for the heck of it, to apply at UofA. Helen had, at the time, planned on going to Arizona for school and I thought "We'll be closer", and there's this good friend of mine who had applied and I was like, "Dude, yes." so I thought it would all be great. Well, Helen is planning on South Dakota(I think...) and I have no idea about the other friend, but I have really been getting excited about UofA. I already know someone who would be my roommate, and they have a great campus. And it's WARM. And CLOSE. And WARM.

After Midterms last week, I attempted to catch up on homework, and after submitting one Science Study Guide I decided that I was going to watch a thousand tv shows and take 24 hour naps. It's a new week, I'm working towards Finals and the end of the Semester. The end of Highschool. I have a LOT coming ahead this year and I am STOKED.

My letter from BYU came this morning. I waited 15 minutes before opening the email, cuz I was scared out of my pants for this letter. My future basically rode on that letter, ya know?? In Seminary this morning, two people told me that they'd been rejected, so I was incredibly worried. And I got rejected. And aside from the fact that it's a great school and I was looking forward to living near certain people there(*cough* Anela), I'm actually relieved. That's one less school to decide between, ya know? There's a reason I didn't get accepted and I am totally okay with it. I have to send in Housing applications for UofA and get the last form for SVU turned in, and focus on getting A's....and jobs. Dude, I need one of those.

I'm actually planning on being a counselor for YFF this summer, and I am so excited. Like, dudes, you have no idea. IF you weren't sure whether or not to go, GO. I WILL BE THERE AND IT WILL BE AWESOME.

Also, it has been almost a year since my friend Greenman left on his mission. Crazy.

Now, funny things. Saturday night I went to my friend's house, and he showed us this hilarious video. Seriously, go watch it. I almost peed my pants laughing. It was hi.freaking.larious. It was that funny. And we talked about it this morning in Seminary.

In church yesterday, I learned that tacos are okay to eat out of the trash after two hours.

I also learned that if you jump out of the Salt Lake City Temple, God will give you the power to fly into the Great Salt Lake.

Peace out homies.

I eat Macaroni and Cheese in the Bathtub

Let's say that you're driving down the street one morning, and you see a tow truck that says, "We have the best hookers in town!" on the back. What do you do?

If you answered, "Call the number," you're correct! Yay, give the man/woman/I can't tell a prize!!

Monday morning, I'm driving home from Seminary. We did our usual stuff. At the stop light, we successfully made someone from EVERY car look at us with the same quizzical look. We laughed obnoxiously and sang loudly and danced. It was normal. Until we got to the second stoplight. And in the lane to our left, a little ahead of us, was a tow truck, proudly supporting the slogan "We have the best hookers in town!" with their logo on the door, along with a phone number. After about 30 seconds of laughing and convincing, Nickolas called them from Autumn's phone. We were all biting back laughter.

N: "Hi, I hear you have the best hookers in town."
Man: "Yes, ma'am."

Well, he hung up and we all laughed, mostly because he called Nickolas a girl. We called back, from my phone this time.

N:*in his best and deepest voice* "Hi, I hear you have the best hookers in town."
Man: "Yes, sir."
N: *plugging nose to avoid laughter* "Are you available Saturday?"
Man: Oh PLEASE!!

I almost peed my pants.

I have told almost everyone I see that story. It's just really funny, okay?


I was asked to play a musical number in church in a few weeks. Naturally, I found a bunch of people to sing, so that way no one will be focusing on my music. Last night we had our first group rehearsal. Ian, our Tenor, was sitting on a chair in my living room as I rehearsed the girls parts, while Morgan, the bass, sat on a different chair, texting. Just as we were about to start the 3rd verse, Ian holds up a childrens book he founded and exclaimed, "It's okay to be different!" which was the title of the book. We turn around and looked at Ian, and upon seeing the book I said, "That's such a good book. It says that it's okay to have a pet worm. It also says it's okay to eat Macaroni and Cheese in the bathtub." As I turn back to the piano Ian says, "Good, cuz I do that all the time." I agreed, and just as I was hitting the first notes, he says, "Actually, I just eat my pet worms in the bathtub."

With that, I wish you a good day, I'll stop putting off my homework, and I'll let you sit there and laugh about worms and tow trucks.

Fellow Doctor Who Enthusiast

Everyone take a look at this cutie. Just take a look at him. I know that this picture isn't the greatest, but I think it's adorable.

As a Williamsburger, I don't have a lot of free time. The Pro to this is that I get a GREAT education, and I have an excuse when people I don't like want to hang out. ;) The biggest Con to this is that this doesn't give me a lot of time to hang out with my siblings. I have some of the greatest siblings on the planet, so this is kinda a really big Con. Especially since this is my last year home. And I'll go on a mission in a year and when I get home they'll be so big, and I will have missed them!

One of my new years resolutions was to spend more time with my siblings, particularly the youngest two, who are currently 4 and 5. Christmas break was lovely. I spent the whole time with the munchkins, particularly with Aaron. We made Christmas treats together, as you can see above, I took him to see Santa, and we would snuggle almost everyday and watch Doctor Who together, because yes, he loves it as much as I do.

Beginning on Christmas Eve, which is when the above picture was taken, he started dressing like this. This is his interpretation of dressing like the Tenth Doctor, who is his favorite(he calls him "the doctor that we both like a lot"). On Sundays it's even better, because he'll wear a tie with his suit and he's just adorable, and he's been trying to convince my mother to let her wear his sneakers with his suit. She won't consent. ;) Anyway, his interpretation makes sense if you think about it. He's wearing a "jacket" of sorts, like Ten did. And I think it's adorable. He wears a variation of the above outfit almost everyday. Shortly after New Years, when we were nearing the end of Season 6 together, he began asking me to style his hair everyday "like the doctor" and wears it at least 3 times a week, and never misses a Sunday without his David Tennant hair, which I think is adorable. He has been asking to grow it out so it will look better.

Here's us on Christmas Eve, with the lego death star that I gave him. And yes, I'm wearing the Mumu...I just really love that Mumu....

My brother and I have bonded incredibly over the past month. Yesterday I got home from my run with Autumn, and he was standing at the door in his tennis shoes, and requested we go on a run together, and even though I was exhausted and my shin splits were bothering me, we went on a quick run around the block(and by run, I mean we walked most of the way ;) ) and it was great. This morning I was doing yoga so I wouldn't be tempted to sleep, and he came and did it with me. I wish I had a picture, because it was adorable. Like, adorable. I can't even explain how adorable.

His favorite princess has very recently become Sleeping Beauty, and he comes and snuggles with me whenever he catches me taking naps. On the weekends he'll come and wake me up by gently placing his hand on my cheek and whispering, "It's morning-time, Aurora. Wake up." and he'll sit next to me as I groggily eat breakfast. He is caring and adorable.

I have been blessed with an amazing family. I have 8 sweet siblings and the best parents I could ask for.

I had a specific picture in mind, taken about 3 years ago, of the two of us to put at the end of this post, but alas, I cannot find it. I must've deleted it once upon a time. So, instead, enjoy this totally random picture of my family.

Please note how my brother is wearing his plaid button up shirt with a t shirt underneath. ;)