I'm so weird it's normal

Yes, I am that crazy RSM.

[Note: RSM=returned sister missionary]

Now that I’m back from Ukraine, there are some things my poor family just has to get used to.

Like how I sing hymns in Russian now.

Or say, “ух ты!” all the time. [Pronounced “ook-ti!” It means, “wow!” or, “ooh!”]

Or how I’ve taught my 2-year-old cousin to say, “opa,” instead of “oops.”

And then, how I love chai (tea) now. Love, love, love it. Herbal tea. Mmmmmm. Tonight I had some chamomile tea and it was sooooooooo gooooooood. And I was just singing about how good it was and my dad was laughing at me. In a, “you’re cute, Megan,” way. He just doesn’t understand how good it is, or he’d be singing about how great chai is, too. So, so, SO good.

And finally, that awkward moment when you’re playing Just Dance with your siblings, and your brother gets too close to you as he’s doing a wicked-awesome dance move and you duck and say, “Don’t touch me!” yeahhhhhh. Sorry, brother. Just be careful around the RSM. 

So, there’s a taste of my craziness. I am now that crazy returned sister missionary. And I’m coming to a singles ward near you. Bwahahahaha. 

Intimidation Nation

For those who don’t know, I’m on the job hunt for Fall semester at BYU. I’m keeping my options open, and I’ve found some promising possibilities. Today, while blowing off the dust from my computer files, trying to find a somewhat-updated resume, I found some waaaaaaaaaaaay old applications I had written when I applied to work at the BYU Writing Center, way back when I was pre-mish and innocent and naive and sophomoric. I’m not a big fan of reading things that I wrote way-back-when. I cringe. It happened when I read my application today. ewwwww. Why did they hire me? Obviously, I can’t write. At least not personal statements or resumes. [at least, not then I couldn’t.] Obviously, getting to work at the Writing Center was a miracle.

Then I remembered that they had also asked for samples of my writing. I stumbled across something else I had written my sophomore year at university. Something I had submitted for my work application. It was a research paper I wrote for my lit crit class.

Whoa.

It was dang good. Just sayin’. So that’s why they hired me. I can write a killer research paper. 

Anyway, after reviewing my research papers and resumes and just thinking in general about what has happened in the past 18 months, I have come to a grand conclusion:

I am intimidating.

aka, I scare boys.

aka, forget about getting married anytime soon.    

Forget about beating back the boys with a stick. I’m blinding them by my sheer awesomeness. 

Let’s just look at the facts, shall we?

-Brains. I got ‘em. And I ain’t dumbing down anytime soon. For anyone. Not a threat, just a fact.

-Beauty. Yep. [and this is a blog post for another day, but can we please just talk about how incredibly gorgeous, well-dressed women are some of the scariest creatures in the world? They were some of the hardest people for me to talk with on my mission. They are just intimidating and their aura just screams: don’t bother me, because I am judging you right now, you frumpy little girl.]

-Brawn. I’ve got this confidence now. Don’t mess with me because . . .

-I know Russian. Bam. Which leads me to,

-Um, I’m a returned sister missionary. Do you know how awesome we are? My intimidation/awesome factor went up by 1,455,892 points. What.

-Also, I served a mission in Ukraine. That’s Eastern Europe, people. Right by Russia. In fact, I was practically in Russia. I lived in places worse than the Bronx. Provo, Utah’s got nothing on me. Bring it, Provo. Bring it. [you think this bad neighborhood? watch this. because it is funny. although, pardon his language at the very end.] 

I could go on, but I don’t want to scare you anymore.

Point is, with all this intimidation factoring going on, I’m probably not going to go on any dates this next semester. Oh, well. I’ll just go read Tolstoy.

Back to the Future

So, I just returned from a mission. Which means that, because this is my blog and my blog=my rules, I can be that annoying returned sister missionary here and talk about my mission all.of.the.time. Because, let’s be honest, it’s just going to happen. *just a disclaimer that you already knew*

People have been asking me what some of my favorite things about being home are/what my favorite things about Ukraine are. It’s a hard question, and there’s no way to be pithy about it. It’s not fair for me, my mission, or Ukraine. But just for posterity’s sake, here’s a compilation of favorite firsts about home and some things I miss about Ukraine:

Favorite Firsts:

·         Seeing/hugging my family as I came down the escalator. So surreal. A dream, really. But so, so good.

·         Teaching my sister how to make пироги (peer-o-gi), which are Russian pies. Did I speak to her in Russian while making them? Yes. Did she understand me? Of course not.

·         Finding the words to my favorite musicals in Russian! And then singing them around the house.

·         Fireworks. I came home around Independence Day. So I got to have an American Fourth of July. Beautiful.

·         Catching up with friends and family. But it’s weird because you feel so different and they don’t really see you as such. And it can be hard for you to see how they’ve changed.  If you’ve come home from a mission, you understand.

·         Going to the temple for the first time after 18 months. Wonderful. So, so good.

·         My first sunset. You just don’t get to see sunsets very often in Ukraine. The concrete doms block them.

·         Culture Shock. Ohhhh, man. My family looked at me so weird when I was freaking out about—

1.      The front lawn. It is green. It is gorgeous. And I can sit on it (and the concrete sidewalk, for that matter), and no one will yell at me and tell me that I will never have children. Beautiful world.

2.      The mountains. Um, hello, sleeping giants.

3.      People smile at me here. And it’s not weird for them if I smile at them. Why are people so nice?

4.      People speak English here? Um, what? But really, it’s weird for me not to hear Russian on the streets all of the time.

5.      Consumer overload at Wal-mart and Costco. [help me. cannot breathe. suffocation.]

6.      Almost crying when I used our oven for the first time. Um, guys. It is big. It is electric. And it is so full of light. Is this real life?

Things I Miss About Ukraine:

·         The people. I miss them so much. Members, members, investigators, people on the street. I love them. They are so resilient and determined and strong. My best friends are still in Ukraine.  

·         Walking everywhere. I really do miss just being able to get everything and go everywhere just by foot.

·         Russian. The end. Do I still slip into Russian sometimes? Конечно же.

·         The food. The fruit and vegetables there are so incredibly delicious. And it’s watermelon season right now.

·         The fields, trees, and skies. (Look at my banner for a glimpse of my beautiful Украина.  

·         Getting to be a missionary there. I love being a missionary so much. Good thing missions never have to leave you, right? 

Homecoming

Well . . . I’m back.

What an incredible, inspiring, challenging, demanding, refining, wonderful, hard, life-changing 18 months this has been.

Ukraine Donetsk Mission.

I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord.

It would be impossible for me to put into words how much this mission means to me. Or how I have changed. For better and for good.

This girl is different. As she should be. You don’t leave on a mission and come back the same. At least—you shouldn’t, in my opinion.

You’ll have to see me again and talk to me again to see what I mean.

Because some things cannot be explained, only felt and known.

But this I will say: It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

But the best decision of my life.

Hello, world. I’m flying into the sun, ready to embrace the future. Whatever it may hold.