Sister Yoshi.

It's a really strange feeling when your best friend/roommate is old enough to open her mission call. That means she's 21. That means she's a full blown adult. That means that I'm older than I feel. Here's the story:

Kendra at 6:00: "I'm opening my mission call at 6:15!"

Kendra at 6:20: "I'm opening my mission call in half an hour!"

Kendra at 6:50: "They'll be here in 15 minutes, and then I can open my mission call!"

Kendra at 6:55: "5 more minutes! Ahhhhhhhhh!"

7:00 - Walbeck's arrive with the fated mission call.

7:01 - "Sis. Walbeck, you have been called to labor in the TOKYO, JAPAN MISSION!"

7:02 - Mass screaming ensues. Hugs are thrown about. Tears are shed.

7:03 - "Finish it! When do you leave?!"

"You will enter the Provo MTC on December 28!"

Mandy: "You won't miss the wedding! My heart almost stopped!"

The rest of the evening: Mass hysteria and happiness and phone calls and smiles and tears.

Sister Walbeck, You are the best roommate ever, and you will be the most amazing missionary. I love you. Go teach you some Asians and connect with your native country.

.

I have an affinity for using periods in my writing.

That fabulous little piece of punctuation.

I am typically opposed to using exclamation marks, except on very special occasions, when something is worthy of more excitement than I usually posses towards life. So, moral of that story/tangent: pay close attention when I use exclamation marks.

Back to the real focus of this blog post. I love periods. I daresay the period is my favorite form of punctuation. I will admit that as much as I under-use the exclamation mark, I overuse the period. Though I can't say that this is necessarily a problem. I feel as though short, brief sentences ending in periods get my point across and portray how I speak. My speaking style being succinct, sarcastic, direct, and mildly hilarious. Obviously periods express this perfectly. I'm a fan.

Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes I forget how much I love college.

Sometimes crazy things happen. Mostly because I'm crazy and I have crazy friends.

Sometimes we randomly go to 80's dances in Salt Lake, even though I have work at 8 the next morning.

Sometimes (or every night) we have roommate dinners that end up lasting for hours filled with laughter.

Sometimes we break into random song/dance in our apartment.

Sometimes Kui and I lay in bed to go to sleep at night and then end up talking for hours about life and everything.

Sometimes I see my brother on campus and we take a stroll around the library.

Sometimes we have game nights and die of laughter.

Sometimes we go to Spoon It Up and J-Dawgs way more than is healthy or financially feasible.

Sometimes I end up watching hulu instead of studying (ok, this is like everyday..).

Sometimes we do outrageously spontaneous things.

Sometimes I laugh so hard my abs start hurting.

Life is fabulous here. Until classes actually start... then I have a bit of a problem. That's when I remember why I was dreading returning to college. But alas, I endure the torture of homework and reading way more pages then I actually understand. All of the ridiculous, hilarious things make life beautiful, no matter how much work I have to do.

Twice.

Sometimes grandparents come home from missions to Africa. This has happened to me twice. It was just as fabulous the second time.
I love when amazing, serving, loving, hilarious grandparents are back in Utah.
I also like when 90 year old great grandmothers take an extended vacation to Utah.
Mostly, I'm just a fan of grandparents. Specifically all of my grandparents.