I don't really love animals. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to realize I got that from my mom. That's why it was surprising, even to me, when I decided to purchase a fish. My roommate and I were in Wal*Mart, walked past the pet aisle, she said she wanted a dog, I said how about a fish? The end.

Then that nice, perfect boy came over. And he wanted a fish in our fish tank, too. So, we let him buy a fish. And it died. (May Papi rest in peace.) And then we bought him a replacement. And it died, too. Just today. We just got the news from a roommate. (May Dakota rest in peace.) This morning I sat, eating my left-overs reheated for breakfast (yes, I'm aware that's it is disgusting I re heat teryaki for breakfast), and watched as poor Dakota struggled to get enough energy to swim. I guess he didn't pull through.

Dustin is pretty upset. His exact words: "Mutiny."

I guess the anger always comes before the realization and the grief.

But, really? Who can blame him? I mean that's two fish in a week and a half. It reminds me of the five fish I had over a two day time period. One would die, and I would make my mom buy me another one. Let me restate: that's five fish in two days. And I named them all George.

Maybe it's me. Maybe we should move the tank to Dustin's house. That way, if his fish dies again, he can't blame me, or the fact he thinks my fish bullies his. And I can stop reliving the associated guilt I am automatically forced to feel from my expiriences with George(s).

Being the youngest of seven, Josh tends to live a life of his own. Without speaking my mind too much (something I'm obviously not accustomed to) I'll just say that sometimes he thinks the world does indeed revolve around him; maybe that the world, and all it's occupants, are aware of him and where he belongs. Thinking about Josh, I'm reminded of a quote said by Sue Sylvester, a character in the TV Series "Glee." Sue says something like, "I will no longer be carrying around photo ID. Want to know why? People should know who I am." This is why we felt it necessary to label him, along with the luggage, in the airport on the way to Vietnam-just in case the whole world is not aware of who he is.

Today was a good day.

I woke up to a call from Tanya. She told me she is coming today-which, I already knew, but it was still fun to hear it when I woke up. And I laughed with her. I love laughing with Tanya.

And then I went back to bed. Till 11 o'clock. I slept better in those three extra hours than I have for the last three days. And when I woke up, I didn't feel sick-for the first time in three days. The only downer was when I tried to feed our fish, and realized the one that belongs to the nice, perfect boy is dead.

I woke up, again, and went to Mill Hollow with Female Taylor. Mill Hollow is a little sandwich shop with sour dough bread. In case you were wondering, my grilled chicken sandwich was divine. Sometimes I get nervous for them to put mustard on my sandwich, in case they put too much. Today was just the right squeeze.

We continued our rendez-vous in Wal*Mart, on a mission to buy Papi (the nickname for the nice, perfect boy-given by me at our first meeting) a new fish. The old fish's name was Papi (for obvious reasons). The new fish's name is Dakota (refer to earlier post-and you'll realize it's also for obvious reasons, given Morgan's nickname for him "Dustin Dakota Darlin'").

Upon arriving home we had a funeral service for Papi, I ate a snack, and took another nap-falling asleep while reading my book. I would like to propose that there is nothing better than falling asleep while reading a good book.

I finally decided to shower and make myself presentable. By the time I was done the nice, perfect boy was done with work and sitting in my living room. We thumb wrestled, made a quesadilla as an appetizer to dinner, and now sit on the couch. With nothing to do. Perfect.

And, this day is only going to get better.

Tanya is coming in one hour. Beautiful.

I have the best best friend. I tell you this, because I think everyone needs a best friend that is the best for them.


Want to know why she is the best best friend for me? She minds her own business (unless I don't want her to-and she can always tell the difference), she loved Toby Keith and country music, she always makes the situations I make stressful-unstressful, she likes to do spontaneous things-but when we do our favorite thing (laying around talking) she is still just as happy, she likes to cook food with me, she is getting married and wants me involved (in the wedding planning, not the marriage), she still calls to talk, she always remembers things, she lets me poof her hair, she likes to go to Preston with me, she is going to have an extra room in her apartment and she is planning it for me, she gets excited to see me, she makes me do my homework, she rides scooters with me. And so many other things, but my hands are tired.

And guess what? I get to see her day after tomorrow. Ask me how excited I am.

I don't think I can think of an answer adequate enough to describe my excitement.

At work, I spend a lot of time at my computer. I call back labs. And I diagnose things (it takes a brain surgeon to order the diagnosis of "Pregnancy, normal"). I enter deliveries. I order tests. I do a lot of things. I also play on the Internet on slow days. Or when I'm bored... Sorry, but there's only so much pregnant urine to go around; so, boredom happens.

I really utilize the "Favorites" tab on my Internet Explorer. Right now my Favorites tab consists of my blog, and Facebook, and YahooMail, and Wells Fargo. And a lot of things like that. Also Bookmarked is the NCAA Men's Basketball website. I love men's college basketball. Remember last year when we made the huge bracket and hung it on our wall?

I'll admit, I don't follow it like a true fan until the tournament rolls around. But, I do enjoy watching a game. And I'm being totally honest. Now, there are some teams I would prefer to watch more than others. For instance, I would love to watch Duke play...as long as they lose. If Michigan is playing anyone, I would opt to watch that game. Let's say, for instance, Michigan was playing Ohio (rivals, everyone knows that) and the University of Idaho game was on at the same time. I would rather eat chips dipped in vomit while watching the Michigan game than watch the Vandals. Opinionated? Me? No way.

So...this one time, I had to watch an Idaho game. With this boy. I really like this boy, but I don't really care for the Vandals. It's not that I don't care for them...I just don't care about them. See the difference? Sometimes I have a really hard time focusing my attention on one thing for a long period of time (sometimes that period of time is not long, but rather...short, even). I especially have a hard time when I am attempting to focus on something I don't really care about. So, I started teasing this avid Vandals fan that I was going to root for the other team. I wanted to get a rise out of him. And let. me. tell. you. I got a rise. So, let's step back and think: what's the smart thing for Yours Truly to do in this situation? Back off? Probably. What did I do? I kept taunting. And not just about the Vandals, but about the Jazz.
Now, once again, I don't really care about the Jazz. But, Jazz fans care about the Jazz...and not in a small way. I love irritating Jazz fans, especially because they are so easily irritated. Besides, I was being highly entertained by his growing fury. He stated he is a Jazz fan because he grew up here, near where the Jazz are grounded. Makes sense. Later in our conversation, I mentioned something about liking USU basketball. I'm not a totally committed Aggie Fan, but I enjoy watching them play. And let's be honest, they're pretty good. He scoffed and asked why I would be an Aggie fan. Um, probably the same reason he is a Jazz fan. Right? I mean I could spit on the USU campus if I practiced hard enough.

This conversation was highly entertaining, and only a little irritating. Not to mention, it lasted the majority of the basketball game (although, I will admit, the game did end up being close-which I do enjoy no matter what).

Needless to say, this boy sent me a text message telling me to mark my calendar for Feb. 26: Aggies vs. Vandals. I plan on sporting Aggie Blue. Head to toe. I'm sure he'll be wearing something to do with something about a Vandal or something...whatever that is.

Who thinks he'll still be nice and perfect after that game?

For Christmas that nice, perfect boy gave a this adorable notebook because he knows I love to write. I've decided to adopt it as MY notebook. And it is mine already...but this will be MY notebook. One that I can carry with me everywhere, and write whatever I want-from lists, to random thoughts, to ideas... get it?



And, yes, I'm well aware I'm running 13 days behind schedule. I'm not very good at resolutions anyway, but since I plan on keeping these ones-the 13 day cheat can't do anything by help me. Right?

So, there's this flower that grows in Vietnam (I'm sure it grows other places, too, but I saw it in Vietnam). As we passed it, my uncle informed us that the flower is considered holy, for lack of a better word. It is revered as this due to the fact that it grows from the muck and filth (places most plants could not survive) and becomes beautiful.


While in Vietnam we had the opportunity to visit orphanages. The third we visited, the one in Ho Chi Minh City, provided experiences and lessons I will never be able to forget.

This stop proved to be one of the cleanest orphanages we had been to. Now, mind you, there were still multiple babes in a bed, and it was not the best living conditions-but, the staff was trying their best, and the spirit felt there was incredible.

It was only when we left that we discovered the story behind the owner. She had been an orphan herself, found when she was only an infant. After being taken in by two different couples (which, neither situation worked out) she lived on the street-buying and selling real-estate at an insanely young age. Still a child herself, she found an orphan girl living on the street and took her in. Eventually, she had over a hundred children in her care-through her own funding with the money she had earned.

My Grandma visited this same orphanage about two years ago, and that's how she found it-with just over a hundred children, (some handicapped-who will remain in her care for life), and no capacity to take more. The owner was devastated to find that she had to begin to refuse children-as it was out of her control. One such child, who had a handicap, was regretfully told there was no room. When the mother of the child heard her daughter would not be accepted, she waited until the middle of the night and threw her precious daughter over the fence.

Now, when we were fortunate to visit this blessed place, there are now over 370 children in the care of this remarkable lady; each one of them calls her "Mom." She now has separate wings for infants, babies, toddlers, etc. The help is done by volunteers, most of whom once lived under the care of "Mom."
Recently diagnosed with Leukemia, with about one year left to live, the final wish of this woman is to see 2 more buildings completed in her orphanage.

Born and raised in the lowest of low, the muck and the filth-if you will, this woman has made herself, her life, and countless other lives beautiful.
This beautiful baby is one that can be found in her care. I can't imagine it's more than a month old. I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on this gorgeous child; letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. All I could do was pray; pray that this child, born in the lowest of circumstances can make it's life beautiful.

Want to see something cool?

Look at the domain for my blog.

Look closely. It's all the same. Minus the "blogspot."

Remember the super nice boy I talked about before? You know, the one that does everything nice and perfect? Yeah, for Christmas he bought the domain for my blog (among other things).

He did this because he knows I love my blog. And because he is himself-and himself is nice and perfect.

(Harrison Fam 9, Doc Let Beach, Vietnam...or somewhere)

I'll say this: I love my immediate family. I also love America, the opportunities it provides, as well as the freedom, and the fact it is usually sanitary (relatively).

We wouldn't trade any of our experiences for anything, especially the time we were lucky enough to spend in the orphanages. But, our theme song for the trip still remains: "America is the greatest, country in the whole world. All the other countries, are run by little girls." (And yes, for those of you who are gasping in shock at the Harrisons, we have seen Borat...via ClearPlay, obviously.)

One last thing, I came back with this longing to help everyone. I want everyone to be as lucky as me.