of my friends had. I was profoundly bummed when I got my call. I received letters from friends serving in Norway, France, Italy, Russia, and Japan throughout my mission.

Their experiences seemed so much more amazing than mine. My days consisted of trying not to become the victim of a drive by shooting in an American ghetto while my friends taught friendly discussions under the northern lights, met with investigators in little French cafes, and rode their bikes through the Tuscan countryside.

At least I didn’t have to serve in Utah, though.