to all of the haters

(I've always wanted to say that...but really there's just one...)
Dear hater,
Please read this in a passionately angry sort of way.
Life is hard.
And doing hard things is hard.
But doing hard things that you don't even want is the hardest.
It's not that I don't want to do hard things.
I would just rather do hard things that I actually want.
I would rather do hard things that don't make me miserable, but give me some level of pleasure.
I want to do hard things-just not the hard things I'm doing right now.
(I want to see how many times I can say hard.....)
It's a challenge to find what it is that you want in life.
I think that I know what I want, even though it changes so much.
But you have to hold onto those things that you want so that the good-hard things are all worth it.
I know that I want to get my yoga teaching certification so that I can teach yoga in hospitals.
I know that I want to publish my journal so that people can feel less alone in their pain.
I know that I want to work and live in an impoverished country so that I can know what other people experience.
I know what I want.
Is it really such a big deal that I don't want to do this one terribly miserable hard thing right now?
So to the hater(s), my life is not yours to live.
You don't get to tell me what hard things are worth it and what hard things are just silly.
You don't get to tell me how spiritual I am and how spiritual I need to become.
In summation, you're dumb and I don't like you.

musics

I don't know how to do technology.
I can't add my spotify playlist onto my blog like other experienced bloggers.
So......here is a nice little YouTube playlist that I put together.
I hope your lives are changed forever.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLim8p0yaGxfj2CzdWqZ7nz2pOJ-5SNMgo

the travel toothbrush

When I woke up for Practicum this morning is was to the sound of a phone call.
I slept through my alarm and my carpool was calling me to make sure I was still coming.
I had approximately two minutes to throw on a shirt and pants.
And just enough sense to grab my travel toothbrush.
I don't know how to live in this grown-up world.
This world where you have to make big life decisions and wake up before nine everyday.
This world of responsibility and commitment.
This world where, if you sleep through your alarm you can't just shrug it off and get the notes from class later.
But ya know what?
At least I am grown-up enough to have a travel toothbrush to grab in such emergencies.
Also, a ten year old at work told me I dress fancy.
So I guess being a grown-up isn't all bad.

memories

My favorite shoes-the ones I've been wearing most days since about 9th grade.
They're finally covered in holes and the soles are almost non-existent.
I can see the ground through them, that's how bad they are.
But they're my favorite.
How do you just throw away your favorite shoes, the ones that have gotten you so many places?
I can still see the mud from when I tried to wrestle a cow.
I can see the poop from when I went to a sheep farm to see a birth.
I can still see the mud from the time that I went on a walk during a rainstorm.
These are the shoes that I went to Trek in and set up and took down 60 tents everyday.
These are the shoes that I went to Africa in and walked through the largest slum in the world.
These are the shoes that I was wearing when I basically fell of a mountain.
All of these memories are tied into these shoes.
Every stain and rip represents a different story from my life.
So how do I just get rid of them?
I guess I'm just going to have to frame them so that I will always have a reminder of all of my most wonderful stories.

the dirtiest of dashes

Anyone who is a true friend of mine knows that I loath running-I only run when I hate life.
I have never understood the desire to pay actual money to run.
Doesn't that just sound like pure misery?
Well, one fateful day in January I promised my cousin that I would run the Dirty Dash with her.
I thought she would forget about it but then she made me put it in writing and notarize it-I was in it deep now.
The day marked in my planner to run this race slowly approached.
And when it did my parents picked me up with my sister and her friends, my running companions.
I start talking about this "awesome" 5K we are about to run.
Then, my sister turns to me and says, "It's a 10K".
My world crashed down around me.
I wasn't happy about this when it was only a 5K, but now this.
When the race started I thought for sure I would die on the side of the trail.
But if I was ever going to make it on Survivor I had to do it.
I had already decided that I would be running barefoot-it's just the right thing to do.
So I whipped my shoes off and started jumping in mud puddles and climbing walls.
Everyone that I passed thought I was a bad ass. Or crazy....hard to tell.
I don't care because I did it. I finished a 10K without even cheating.
And I even got to play in mud, climb walls, and watch fat people fall in the mud.
Pretty good race I'd say.

the one with the kiss

The only girly thing about me is that I love my lipstick.
And in the honor of lipstick, I am here today to share the story of my first kiss.
Notice, when I say first kiss I don't mean worst kiss.
That story will come another time.
Let's rewind the clock to 2011 down at good 'ol SUU.
Yes, it's true, I didn't have my first kiss until college.
However, the boy (We'll call him B) didn't know this-he thought I was an experienced kisser.
B lived down the hall from me and we met when he helped me repair my broken headlights.
Sparks flew and we spent that week together sharing music and doing homework.
One night I was in St. George, about to head back up to Cedar City, when I got the text.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
Now guys, this is always the classiest of moves and will definitely win you points.....Not.
But, I was still naive and was so excited to watch a movie-I enjoy movies just as much as the next girl.
When I get back, still wearing my swimming attire I head over to his dorm.
My hair was a ratty, damp, curly mess from swimming but I didn't care-I didn't know what was about to happen to my lips.
He let me pick the movie and I chose Harry and the Hendersons (haven't watched it since....)
About halfway through the movie he started kissing me.
I was a bit confused because I really wanted to watch this movie-it's a good one.
Anyways, that didn't happen.
We kissed for a bit and then afterwards all he says is,
"I've never kissed a girl with braces before. Weird."
........................
Alright mister.
So of course I turned off the movie and taught him how to make a grilled PB&J.
Because that was something that I DEFINITELY knew how to do.
Later that night when my roommate got home from St. George and I told her the story she promptly opened the window.
And yelled, "MCKENZIE JUST KISSED A BOY!!!!!" so that all of the residents would know.
And that is the story of my first kiss.
And to this day all I can about is how he still has my He is We CD.
How dare he?

heat

My apartment is real hot and it just makes me sad.
Apparently it also makes me angry.
Last night as I lay awake in my 85 degree room with no hope of sleep I got angry.
Like, grab your mattress and place it on your private balcony angry.
I spent the rest of the night sleeping under the stars, on my pink sheets.
It was like a dream come true.
I was so at peace that I didn't even mind the men singing a harmonized rendition of I Am A Child of God at midnight.
And then I left my bed in it's place, even after the sun rose.
And it still lays there, as the sun sets.
I plan to leave it there for the rest of the Summer-fingers crossed that it doesn't rain.
I have spent my day enjoying the luxury and comfort of my bed and the greatness of being outside.
It made for a great place to read my book, eat my dinner, and spy on passersby.
So if you wanna come hang out in the place containing the best of both worlds, just stop on by.
But bring me a Swig-I've been staring at that place all day.