Oh the Awkwardness of Me...

Ramble

2012-02-08T23:15:00.000-07:00

Today I have that feeling. The dissatisfied happily unhappy feeling.
I want all of the things. I want to hike to the top of a mountain and look at the valley below, I want to curl up in my blankets and read a book, I want to walk up to a boy and kiss him, I want to find a new friend, I want to dance, I want to sing, I want to sit and silently ponder the world, I want to laugh which could just as easily turn into tears, I want to sleep, I want to run and never look back, I want to break rules and forge frontiers.
All these things. I feel as though I could do them all.
I feel so large on the inside, and I need to fill it up. I have excess energy running up and down my limbs trying to find release.
I want to be.
But instead I'll think about everything, but never pick a topic. I'll find ways to fill the time, instead of filling the space. I'll flit about and grumpily glare at the things that fail to capture me.
I'll think about all the things that could be and feel the emptiness, instead of finding the things that are and satiating the craving.

I wish that things were different, but I don't want anything to change.

Finding My Faith

2012-02-04T16:49:00.001-07:00

Because of a variety of things, most recently Mitt Romney running for president and the Book of Mormon Musical, quite a few questions have been raised about my faith.

Interestingly enough, the former Mormons are the ones that I've found to be the most bitter, and the most vocal. It gives me a sick feeling to my stomach.

News Flash:

The Church is not perfect. The people in the church are not perfect. There are contradictory messages from people's bishops and stake presidents. Even from general authorities. The church has kept quite a few things secret, or at least kept them very quiet. A few years ago, when I started discovering all the contradictions, all the things that, according to what I knew, couldn't be right.

I still sometimes have my doubts. But what I get from the church is more than what I don't.

When I found out that Joseph Smith was a polygamist, I was pissed. The whole polygamy thing has really marked us as a church. It's one of our identifying factors to those outside of the church. I always hated that we practiced polygamy, and when I found out that Joseph Smith was a polygamist, I was upset. I felt as though I had been lied to. No one had ever told me about that tiny little detail. It made me even more angry when it looked as though Wilford Woodruff only extended the Official Declaration 1 to end the church's persecution.

I had a hard time with the church not extending the priesthood to blacks. I have cousins who are black. I have friends who are black. It sort of made me angry. Why did God discriminate against them? If God is no respecter of persons, then why the hell (pardon my French. Sorry Mom!) did he withhold one of his greatest blessings from many of his people?

Evolution. I'm a biology major. Everything that we know about the world indicates that evolution is how we got there. Nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution. It really isn't even a question anymore. Most of my classes are devoted to this very subject. Remember how I go to BYU? Evolution...its real people. Just accept it.

The whole story of how they got the Book of Abraham seemed a little convenient and suspect for me.

There were more. Don't worry about it.

These are some of the solutions that I've worked out in regards to some of these things. They took work. They aren't perfect, I could have many doctrinal fallacies that I don't know about, and I'm not saying that any of these are doctrine. They help me though.

These are just what I've come up with through figuring it out for myself and lots and lots of prayer. If you don't like any of them, feel free to come up with your own. And share them with me. I like learning new ways to think about the gospel.

Some of the things that I've heard about the polygamy issue involve anything from there needing to be a fullness of the times, to taking care of the widows, and even someone telling me that the people in these marriages were celibate (right...). In Jacob 2:27 it says, "For there shall not any man among you have save it be one wife; and concubines he shall have none" which seems contrary to what happened. It seems as though the church was going against the Book of Mormon even. However, in D&C 132:37 it says, "Abraham received concubines, and they bore him children; and it was accounted unto him for righteousness, because they were given unto him, and he abode in my law; as Isaac also and Jacob did none other things than that which they were commanded; and because they did none other things than that which they were commanded, they have entered into their exaltation, according to the promises, and sit upon thrones, and are not angels but are gods." Basically, God can do whatever he wants. Murder is wrong. However, Nephi was told to kill Laban. The children of Israel went forth and massacred thousands of people in the name of getting back their promised land (I am not comparing polygamy to murder. Just want to make that clear). My Doctrine and Covenants teacher told us that it was something given to test the saints, and was only given to those that Heavenly Father commanded. I'm sure that it wasn't always the case though. People are stupid and sometimes church leaders make mistakes. Because they are human. (I do like President Hinkley's response on 60 Minutes about the church not making the decision based on being backed into a corner)

As for blacks receiving the priesthood, Heavenly Father has withheld the priesthood from people before. It was only the Jews that had access to it for thousands of years. They were his promised people. And everyone else had to fend for themselves. But just as he didn't keep the wise men from the east from knowing him (they knew about the Christ child, didn't they?) and he has blessed the descendants of Esau. He protected them from the Israelites. Heavenly Father is mindful of his children. Although there has been quite a bit of slaughter in his name. Especially when the Israelites were getting their promised land back.

Evolution. I like evolution. When I am in class and learning about how things developed and mutated and changed, I feel happy. Looking at phylogenetic trees is amazing. The thing is, with evolution, it makes me feel special. There were billions of years and billions of mutations go through to make it to us. The fact that Heavenly Father cared enough to go through all of that to make us...that's amazing. Adam was the first of his race. Not necessarily the first of his species.

Heavenly Father knew what he was doing. Heavenly Father had a plan. We don't know the plan. All we have is heavily allegorical and symbolic scriptures from thousands of years ago. It tells of the spiritual creation as well as the physical. And it doesn't necessarily have to make sense to us. We're just trying to put all the pieces together. Some people are terrified that if there is evolution that it will mean that there is no God. But I think it means that we'll have more light and knowledge of how God works. And that is wonderful.
When I think about evolution, I feel the spirit. I look at everything we know, and I truly appreciate that Heavenly Father loves us.

As for the book of Abraham. I still don't have a solution besides this: If the Book of Mormon is true, if Joseph Smith was a prophet, then...there is nothing that Heavenly Father can't make happen. Even if it seems a bit implausible at times.

Honestly, the Church really has kept a lot of the less than savory aspects of its history quiet. Not necessarily hidden, you can find many of the very controversial books on BYU campus (you can't check them out...you have to read them there), but...it's very, very, quiet. Leading to a feeling of being punched in the stomach when you find out something that you didn't know about, and don't necessarily agree with. However, they are coming forth with more of the information. This is the age of information, and they are coming forth with more information than was ever easily available. I'm actually bitter that they didn't start doing this sooner.

Church leaders are not perfect. Peter denied Christ three times. Saul saved some animals that he shouldn't have and sacrificed them. McConkie said some weird things that he had to redact.

But I believe that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is true. I believe that Joseph Smith knelt in a grove and saw Heavenly Father and His son. I truly do. Sometimes the doubts come. Sometimes things don't make sense. Sometimes my personal philosophies don't match up with the doctrine.

But I believe. It makes me happy. I read the scriptures and I see the influences that it has on all the aspects of my life. It brings joy to me that my family will be together forever. I love the peace that the spirit brings. I love that the church is about taking care of each other. The numbers don't matter. I love the friends I have made because of the church, and the amazing opportunities that I have had to go places, and to serve others.

I'm a part of the church, and the church is a part of me.

Stress and Happiness

2012-01-13T01:05:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling very stressed about everything.
Here are some reasons why:
School. I've already had some ridiculously long days. School combined with work is craziness. Good, but insanity nonetheless.
Money. I need it. Unfortunately. And I have this weird little habit of eating food and needing a place to sleep. Silly I know. But it's a habit.
I have to retake genetics. My first reaction was that I'm a dunce. My second (and more correct) reaction is, "Well, there was a ton of crap that happened last semester. I'm surprised I passed ANY of my classes. I was not doing so hot last semester."
Trying to figure out how my school schedule is going to work out for the next two years until I graduate. (Yes. I finally have it all figured out. I will graduate in two years. Go me. After six and a half years of school I will finally be done. Halle-freakin-lujah)
School. Did I mention that already? Oh, well that's because it is taking my life and swallowing it WHOLE. I mean, I'm on campus for loooooooooong periods of time. I have to pack lunch and dinner when I leave in the morning.
I lost my debit card, my signature card, and my driver's license in one fell swoop. Not. Good. Oh. And my ticket for Captain America on Saturday. I lost them all yesterday...at one point. I'm planning on retracing all my steps tomorrow though, and going to all the lost and founds. C'mon BYU. Be true to form. Turn them into lost and found intact. PLEASE.

So. Here are some things that make me happy. Because hey, I haven't done this in a while. And I always feel better after doing so.

I love exercising. Hello my darling muscles. You're coming back to me! I love you. And those endorphins. Oh. They are great. I love that my exercise classes have started again.
The girls in my poetry group for creative writing liked one of my poems. Because it was funny and smart. Considering the fact that I despise poetry with all of my being, and struggled so hard to write them...I'm going to take it as a win.
I love my roommates. They are pretty great. We get along great and have many of the same interests. It's rather pleasant.
I love when certain people text me. I get a rush of dopamine just from seeing their name on my phone.
I like that I did something that terrified me. Its probably the best thing I could have done for myself. But it was still scary.
I rather like my drug abuse class. It's rather entertaining and so interesting. (I like less the fact that we had videos that showed people about to shoot up, and people getting ready to shoot up. I don't have a problem with needles normally. But after about an hour of this, I was cringing and had a giant neon sign flashing, "STDs! HIV! AIDS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" But I'm not dramatic or anything)
I actually understand something in genetics this time around that baffled me the first time. Go me!
I got to talk to Sarah today. I love that girl. I am so glad that even though we haven't seen each other in years we are still such good friends.
I love the pictures that Liesl drew before she left. After she left and I saw this I nearly burst into tears.

Has it been a year and a half yet? What? It's only been a week? Crap...

And I want to go on adventures. I want an adventure. Any suggestions for adventures I could go on? My Liesl friend is gone, and she was always the one that took me adventuring.

Hey! Listen!

2012-01-09T13:11:00.001-07:00

So I'm moved (can I just interject with how much I hate moving? I can? Ok, good. I hate moving). Roommates seem nice. I mean, some of them could be secretly psychotic, but it doesn't seem likely at this point. I lived with three of them before. The two new ones are great. One is from Ecuador and doesn't speak a whole lot of English. The other is kind of exactly like me, but louder. It's crazy. Rather nice too.
School started. It's not looking as crazy as past semesters have been, but it's still the first week. Let's not make any snap judgments. Also, Wednesdays I have a 12 hour day. Not so much fun.

So, in the past week, I'm pretty sure that everyone in my acquaintance is now in a relationship.

Ok, it's an exaggeration. But I know of at least five couples that have begun dating in the past week.

Last night I went to a movie night.
To my right was a kissing couple. At my feet on the love sac were two cuddling couples. On the couch perched upon cinder blocks above my head was a cuddling couple. At, least I think they were cuddling. Maybe not. I don't have eyes in the back of my head, and I wasn't that curious. Anyways. I was the only single girl in the room. To my left was the other single person in the room.

I'm the awkward single person.
Again.

It's amazing how often I find myself in this situation.
9th grade: We weren't 16 and weren't allowed to date. They needed the third person along so that it wasn't a date. Who was the third person? Oh, yeah, that would be me. Fortunately, there was only hand holding going on at that phase. But still. I was that awkward third wheel. Me and Smash and Doug/Plaster. Me and Mare and Zach/Mike/Trent
10th-12th grade: Oh hey, everyone is 16 and can do the dating thing. So...they did. Yeah...thanks for still taking me along guys. I really appreciate all those make out sessions I got to witness. Which I couldn't leave, because YOU HAD THE CAR!!!!
(obviously I didn't go along for as many of these things as I got older and realized that all their promises of "Oh, I'm so sorry it won't happen again, we WANT to hang out with you!" were vicious lies. That's right. I said it. LIES. You know who you are.)
Due to these experiences (one which involved me sitting on across from one couple as they made out and I was the only other person in the room. Have you ever tried to get a pair of teenagers who are making out to play a board game? Not. Easy.), I developed a very strong aversion to PDA. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind the cuddling, the hand holding, maybe the occasional peck. Whatever. At least you still have the capacity to be social with others whilst doing those things. But if I am talking to you, and you suddenly start sucking face, then I'm going to get grumpy.

Maybe I'm just bitter because I'm not getting some. However, if I wanted some I could TOTALLY get some. But if you have ever been the odd man out, then you know how it feels. You know how it feels to be the least important person in the room.

It sucks.

The Curious Events of Thursday Evening

2011-12-25T20:29:00.001-07:00

I was tired. I had a very tiring job (I quit Friday!). It was nice, because I needed the money (I got overtime!), but moving furniture for 8-10 hours a day is...exhausting. My legs look as though I was the victim of abuse. Sigh.

Connor picked me up from work. After working 10 hours, I was tired. I just wanted to get in the car, go home, and veg. I got into the car once it pulled up. I greeted Connor. Oh my attention deficit disorder, Batman! He was bouncing off of the wall's. Please, remember we were in a car. There was no room for bouncing, let alone off the walls. He was talking about how sometimes he thinks he has manic depressive ADHD, because sometimes he is as chill as can be, then other times he is higher than a satellite. It was too dark to check his pupils to see if they were dilated. I was slightly concerned, but he was acting excited about our plans to watch A Muppet Christmas Carol. I figured that the actions of a druggie wouldn't involve watching a beloved Christmas movie with his sister. They have better things to do. Like go to zombo.com.

After I made food, and was waiting to watch the movie with Connor, we came to the unfortunate conclusion that our copy of Muppets was VHS, and we don't have a VHS player anymore. Ours died earlier this year. I wanted to see Liesl though. So when my plans to watch a movie with Connor fell through, I thought nothing of doing something with Liesl.

Nothing, nothing, tra la la.

Connor got very upset upon this discovery. Unnaturally so. But he was still weirding me out. Liesl came in, and I ran to go get her books. When I came back in, he was pestering her to draw him the picture that he wanted.

I rolled my eyes, and told him to give it up, Liesl wasn't his to command or pester.

Liesl sat down on the couch, which I found surprising. Sam was watching Psych, and it was a Yin Yang episode, so I sort of understood. Then...Liesl wanted to stay for another. I thought it was peculiar, but thought nothing more of it. Then there was a knock at the door.

"Erin! Get it!" Connor commanded. I looked at him in surprise. "You're closer. You go get it," I responded.

"No...I don't wanna," came the saucy reply. Sam also said he wanted me to answer.

"Nose goes!" I exclaimed putting my finger on my nose, thinking that would settle the matter.

"Yeah...well...majority rules! Everyone vote! All in favor of Erin answering the door, say AYE!" Connor exclaimed, getting everyone to raise their hands.
Everyone raised their hands and said, "Aye," even Liesl.
"You answer the door!" demanded Connor.

Then the door creaked open, and Auntie Day walked into our house. Which was somewhat unexpected. She never comes over that late at night.

I got up to greet her, and was surprised at her greeting, "Erin! I need your help!"

"With what?" I responded.

"I have a present that I need you to help me bring in," said she.

I stared at her. "Can't the boys help with that?" I responded with annoyance as I grabbed my coat.

I went out the door, "It's too heavy for me to carry in," she said.
I started to turn the corner and roll my eyes, feeling very put upon, "Then why didn't you get the boys--
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" came the earsplitting shriek as I jumped upon my favorite Christmas present ever.

"AMANDA!!!!!!" I screamed, "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I'm sure someone thought there was a murder happening at the Wright house.

My Manda. The one that lives in Washington D.C. The one that wasn't going to be able to come home for Christmas because she had work. The one that I have sorely missed these past few months.

My Manda, was standing there. Until I grabbed her and jumped on her and spun her around as I cried and shrieked. Then it wasn't so much standing as staggering about trying to find even footing. I looked towards the door, and there were four faces crammed around our tiny little door windows.

She quit her job, and got a new one (still in DC), that doesn't start until January 6. She decided on Monday, that she was coming home. She quit her job on Thursday, and got on a plane to here. It will be the last Christmas that we will all be together for a very long time. Connor will be gone for the next two years, then Sam will be gone in two years...that is four years of a less than full family.

She came home to me.

Then came the rushed and oft repeated explanations. All the planning. The sudden realization of why Connor and Sam had been so wired for the past three days. Why Liesl stayed to watch Psych.

Then my parents got home about five minutes later.

We were still all huddled in the front entryway. Mom walked in, "Is there a party going on?" and then she saw Manda. Her jaw dropped. Dad came in, "Boys, what is going--" and then he did his jowl shaking jaw drop.

Then followed a rush of explanations, and queries.

Liesl just sat there smiling throughout the entire thing.

Then, after everyone had gone home and off to bed, I went and sat on Manda's mattress under the table. We talked about the things that are just difficult to talk about over the phone, or skype. We laughed about silly things. We leaned on each other, and alternated laying on each other's laps. It was the perfect present.

Physical things break. They get lost. They lose the excitement that only a new toy can bring. But I get My Manda Face until Thursday. I get memories, love, and time. I will always have that. The best sort of Christmas present ever. Someone who I love, and who loves me back.

My family loves each other so much. We are all best friends. I love it so much.

This has been a rather fantastic Christmas. We opened presents this morning. There wasn't too much because we're saving money for Hill Cumorah, and other things. But between each round of unwrapping gifts (we always go from youngest to oldest), we had a different thing we had to do before each opening. The first round we had to sing a Disney song. The second, do a dance. The third, create a poem. etc.

Then we went to church. Then we ate. We played games. We ate. We worked on a puzzle. We ate.

Did I mention there was food?

There was also love.

Love is what Christmas is truly about. Love for all mankind. Love of a Father to His Son. Love for family. Love for those who mean the most. Sacrifice for those that we love.

Remembering that will bring us the most joy.

Merry Christmas!

Final day of classes. But not the semester...

2011-12-08T23:25:00.000-07:00

Well. Today was the last day of classes. Now we just have a week until the end of the semester.
I'm lying on my bed. I was working on my ecology study guide a few moments ago, but the bright robin egg blue color that I was using to highlight the answers made me feel as though I should be elsewhere. Climbing up a mountain, or running in a park chasing down a frisbee. Every single one of my roommates is off enjoying the ability to sleep in tomorrow. I feel as though I should be doing so as well, but that adrenaline filled, "AH! FIVE TESTS NEXT WEEK! AH!" is putting a damper on my willingness to go be social. I'm lying in my bed, wearing ratty torn sweats and a spiderman shirt. My newly clean and very fluffy hair is softly falling around my face and creating a most appealing aroma. I keep grabbing handfuls of hair and inhaling the scent. I showered a few hours ago. Now I have a distinctly clean relaxed feeling. Earlier today, I felt as though I had crawled out of a pit of grease, and was dripping with oil and ooze. Now I feel calm and soft.
Today I sat in my final marriage and family class. I paid attention to the teacher as I braided my hair into a fishtail braid, which I basically taught to myself right then. It was one of the triumphs of my day.
The other triumphs include, but are not limited to:
I was rushing to class. I bundled up in my jacket and my coat, because it was very cold. The light blue sky was bright. I was wearing my pink flowery skirt and brown tights. A few rushes of wind made me regret that particular fashion choice. A nice looking college man was walking towards me. I saw him give me the up, down, up look. After I passed him, I started to smile.
After working on it for three hours, I received full points on my genetics homework. (Unfortunately I still need to get a 77% on my final to pass the class (I have been scoring...significantly lower than that on my past tests...please. If you have any prayers to spare...I understand you're all probably going through finals as well, but any good thoughts sent my way would be appreciated.). All I want is a C- so I can kiss genetics goodbye. Forever. And never have to do statistics ever again. Unless evolutionary biology has statistics...in which case I will curl up in a ball and cry. Statistics and I do not get along...)
My coworker told me today that I look skinny. I mean, I notice that I am losing inches and such. But it isn't everyday that other people notice.
Those are my triumphs.
My current playlist on grooveshark has so many of my all time favorite songs. Every time I hear a new song, I feel a rush of pleasure, a rush of joy, a rush of memories, and then I just want to repeat it again and again. Until the next song comes on.

Finding My Place

2011-11-30T11:52:00.000-07:00

I wrote this on Sunday, but didn't intend to post it. But it expresses what I've been feeling recently. So...here it is!

I am currently sitting in my living room sprawled on one side of the long couch, while my roommate, Sadie, sprawls upon the other side. Our languor is overlapping and we occasionally look at each other and make silly faces. My roommate Sarah is sitting on the other couch with food that smells incredible.

Even though it isn't necessarily true, I feel alone. Even though I am (well, perhaps not technically, I'm not sure that two people can count as a surrounding sort of thing...) surrounded by people, I don't feel the connection.

Not lonely. Loneliness has had a leading role in my life this semester, this isn't lonely. This isn't sad. I want to make this very clear. Not. Sad. This is just a strange realization that I've had recently.

I just feel alone. I know I'm loved. I know I have friends I can call upon who would be there immediately, none of that is the point. I am singular. Separate. One.

People are not meant to be alone. I almost feel as though one person on their own is not whole. I'm not afraid of being alone physically. I enjoy my company. I sometimes crave solitude. I love having quiet hours to write, to think, or to sing as loudly as I want. But recently I've felt the hole. The space within you that whispers, "You're not complete. Only someone else can fill it."

I don't know if this is healthy. Perhaps I've just reached that point in my life where I need someone who will always be there. Who will fill the hole. Perhaps I could fill that piece of them they don't even know was empty. Then we could be complete.

I can reach out and touch someone. I could jump across the couch and land on Sadie, who would respond by hugging me and brushing my hair. I could do all the things to make myself feel less alone. Like I'm a part of something.

But it wouldn't work for long. It seems like no matter what I do, I feel solitary. So I hold closer, I cling tighter, I speak faster. Trying to wring all that I can out of the moment, out of the person. I'm so needy, so clingy, so much. Too much. As a result, I'm not enough. I don't connect, I scare people away. I feel like a caricature, all arms, blobby fat, and piercing loud voice. A gross parody of a girl. Either that, or I am a ghost. Silent, staring, and a shade of a person. Nothing to say, nothing to do. Filling a space.

I feel outside of everything. This moment doesn't matter. This is a brief time in space. No matter how I clutch and grasp at it, it will slip away. These things always do.

I've always felt as though I am far ahead of some of my peers in certain respects. Then so far behind in others. I've don't quite manage to match up with many people for this very reason. I was always better friends with those younger than me, or far older than me.

There are people I don't feel this way with. Friends that I've had for years. When I'm with them I feel full and happy and content. There isn't a feeling of loss before its over. Because I know I'll have more time. I know that this moment is just a droplet in the ocean of whatever the heck our relationship it is. Because they are there, and will continue to be there. They help to fill the space.

There is nothing like family to make you feel like you are an integral part of something. Whether it is laughing, dancing, bickering, wrestling, there is a flow and a rhythm. There is a niche that you have carved out which is yours and yours alone, but it interlocks with everyone else's. It will be an eternal place, where you go to be yourself. To the people that know you and helped to shape you into what you are. That is what you need to help to fill the space. Family. Whether it was the one you were born into or the one you yourself makes, family is what fills the emptiness.

A little while ago...

2011-11-21T00:40:00.000-07:00

My dear friend Liesl and I are pretty much awesome. No really. We go on adventures together and have amazing times. Like when we went to that bar together. Or when we went stargazing and laid down in the middle of the road. I love my friend Liesl.

Liesl is my kayak friend.

Let me elaborate.

We explore the future together. In a unique and fun way. Liesl wants to experience life, and takes me along for the ride. Which I am eternally grateful for.

A little while ago, we went to go and see Lion King in 3D together.

It was expensive. $11.50

I grumbled. I didn't have that kind of money to spend on a movie. By the end though...wow.

It. Was. AMAZING.

Best $11.50 I have ever spent.

I love my Liesl friend. I also love that I end up getting featured in her comics. I'm vain. So being drawn makes me happy.

The end.

The madness is setting in...so we try to hold it at bay with songs and happiness

2011-11-10T21:34:00.001-07:00

Today requires a list of things that make me happy.
Just trust me on this one. If I don't focus on something that makes me happy, I'm going to explode in a fit of anxiety, stress, misery, and hatred for the universe at large. Never mind the fact that I am going to lose my mind because I have two papers due tomorrow. Never mind the fact that I have three tests next week. Never mind that I have clean checks next week. A date with a boy I've met once (which is a highly entertaining story that I shall regale you all with...at another time. When it isn't quite so embarrassing...) on Friday.

I'm GOING to focus on joy and sunshine and unicorns pooping rainbows for a little while before I go back to the insanity that is my life.

Happiness:

1. I get to see my sister tomorrow. My Manda Face. She is coming home to me (well...she's technically already here...but I can't see her until tomorrow). It will be a time of the utmost joy...well...sort of...
2. I get to see my entire family tomorrow. I'm going to see family that I haven't seen in years tomorrow.
Because we're all going to my grandpa's funeral...
3. I have amazing friends. Sadie. Liesl. Jewel. Andrew. My roommates. Stephers. My visiting teacher, Amber (oh hai...the visiting teaching thing worked out for me...for once...it's like Heavenly Father KNEW I needed it this semester or something...)
4. I have back muscles. You don't even know. I was getting a back massage on Sunday and the guy was like, "Wow. You are either really tense or have a really strong back." I opted for the strong back. Especially after looking at it in a mirror. There were muscle dents. It even sort of rippled in a not only fat sort of way. My back fat is almost gone. YEAH! My ultimate working out goal is almost complete!
5. I have people that genuinely care about me. My FHE brothers. My friends (as mentioned previously...). My visiting teaching companion.
6. I have an amazing family that cares about me. I'm so glad I get to go home for family home evenings and Sunday dinners. I love my family so much. We are large and loud and rambunctious. And this weekend we are complete.
7. I love car rides up the canyon.
8. I love when people make time for me. No matter their busy schedule, they make time and exert effort for me. Deep in my soul that is one of the thing that probably makes me happiest. It shows that they care about me.
9. I like looking at my muscly bits. I like flexing my calf muscles and seeing the lines. I enjoy looking at (and feeling) my muscular arms. I like (and am sort of sad...) that most of my pants don't fit anymore. Because I am fit. HAH! I wear a lot more skirts now...
10. Thanksgiving is in a week. Seriously people. This is thrilling. There is going to be FOOD. And FAMILY. and FUN!
Oh. And no school for five days. Halle-freakin-lujah

Ok. Paper time. GO!

Grumpy Celiac'd Erin

2011-11-04T11:47:00.000-06:00

Some days it seems like the the world is making you its personal Atlas.

It's been a rough couple of months. One thing after another.

I've been feeling anxious this past week. I've never had anxiety like this. It makes my chest feel shaky, my worries seem bigger than they are, causes me to lose my ability to focus and do homework, and gives me a mad case of the munchies.

I have been CRAVING donuts. Brownies. Tortillas. Mmmm. Flour tortillas. With cheese melted on it. Colby jack cheese.Oooh! Or a tortilla wrap! My mom's homemade bread. Blue cheese dressing. Whipped cream. Chocolate. The kind with the ganache filling. All creamy and amazing and perfect...

You don't understand how badly I want these things.

Here is an idea of how to convey some of that. What would be your last meal? Your favorite food ever? Can't you see all the beauty of that final glorious meal? So savory and succulent?

You can never eat it again. Sorry sucker, so sad, but alas, that particular item has been stricken from the menu of your life. Oh! And let's eliminate your second and third favorites! You can never have any of those things ever again. That is a toned down version of how celiac disease feels.

Not only have I been craving these glutenized things, I've actually been considering doing something about it. I walked by the Wilk Twilight Zone, and almost walked in and bought a bagel. I started walking into the building, and then had to stop, shake myself, and continue on my way to work.

Yesterday at work, there was a giant platter of brownies, cookies, fudgy looking flour having things, and lemon bars. I sat next to it while I was eating my lunch, and inhaling the sweet scent of moist delectables was the utmost torture.

It was all I could do not to firmly plant my face in the center of that cornucopia of goodness and eat every single sweet down to the last succulent crumb. Hands would only slow me down.

I may have mentioned on this blog that eating dairy makes me zombie-esque, and ingesting chocolate gives me a headache (though I did have hot chocolate and it was only mild headache. Same deal with the chocolate coated cinnamon bears and the almond joys and the one lonely reese's I had. Oh. It was soooo good. So worth it too).

I don't have a whole lot of sweets. Besides fruit snacks. But those don't count as candy.

I have been trying so hard to restrain myself. It's getting more difficult as time marches steadily onward. My resolve is weakening.

I'm aware that it isn't actually hunger. I'm very aware that it is probably just a reaction to all the stressful things of the past couple of months. My sister is experiencing similar symptoms. But I am sick of being the soul of self restraint. I'm tired of being strong.

I want a dang cookie.

Family

2011-10-24T00:11:00.002-06:00

My Grandpa is dying.

Today I drove up to Idaho with my father and my brother to say goodbye. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to, we didn't know if he would still be coherent. But last night, we made the plan. We went this morning.

It was probably the best decision I have ever made.

I got to go and say goodbye to him properly. My grandfather is an incredible, quiet, wise, lovely, man. When I grow up, I would like to be like him. He is hardworking, and cares so much for all of us. He gave my brother and I some beautiful parting words, and advice.

It was wonderful. Getting to say goodbye to someone who has had such a profound influence upon me.

Then I was there with my family. My brothers and my parents. My Grandma. My uncles and aunts. My cousins.

I got to visit with Grandma as she cut carrots. Then she showed me how to make a roast. I made treats. I chopped things. I did the dishes.

I visited with my cousins. We sat on the couch and joked around as some of them played the ipad.

Family. It is truly the greatest thing. My family was the anecdote for all the despair that I've been feeling. I felt like a huge load was lifted. I felt the spirit so strongly.

It was just what I needed.

Here is a verse that Grandpa shared with us.

Enos 1:26-27

26 And I saw that I must soon go down tomy grave, having been wrought upon by the power of God that I must preach andprophesy unto this people, and declare the word according to the truth which isin Christ. And I have declared it in all my days, and have rejoiced in it abovethat of the world.

27 And I soon go to the place ofmy rest,which is with my Redeemer; for I know that in him I shall rest. And I rejoice in theday when my mortal shallput on immortality,and shall stand before him; then shall I see his face with pleasure, and hewill say unto me: Come unto me, ye blessed, there is a place prepared for youin the mansions ofmy Father. Amen.

For those of you out there. If you can, whatever you believe, please pray for my Grandpa, Joseph George, that he will pass from this world with as little pain as possible.

My Manda-Face and I

2011-10-12T12:24:00.001-06:00

My sister and I are like two peas in a very strange pod.

On a side note, the whole two peas in a pod idiom always struck me as somewhat strange. I grew up eating many peas from the garden. Very rarely were there ever only two peas. In fact I can't think of a single time off the top of my head where it was the case. Because I carefully document that sort of thing in my brain, and can obviously remember these sorts of irregularities with ease and have miles of brain crinkles devoted to just that sort of inane nonsense. My point is, there are usually three peas. Or more...

Anyways, my sister and I have that sibling bond. The kind where we can give each other a look, and we will dissolve into giggles. The sort that we can go on long rambling tangents that really have no segues or any manner of connection. And we get it. We know where each other is going, and where they are coming from, and probably how they are going to get there.

We get each other's nerdy obsessions. We can confess our deepest darkest secrets to each other, without fear of mocking. We get what it is like to not have boyfriends. To lose best friends to life. To go through a stressful time.

We understand each other. We love each other.

But now she has left me. Gone off adventuring in Washington DC.

How dare she?

Before she left though, we went on a drive. I hate cars. I hate being in them. The smell of cars always makes me want to gag (this does include new car smell, which kinda makes me want to toss my cookies). Being in traffic is my own personal hell. I am a very firm believer in pedestrianism. But I enjoy going on drives.

Drives with the windows down, nothing like traffic lights to stop us, and gorgeous scenery.

I love living almost on a mountain. It is the best.

On this drive we went up Provo Canyon, staring in wonder at the bright colors that were setting the mountains ablaze. The sky was clear and bright fall blue, the sun shone down and warmed my skin.

On our way back down to Provo, we started singing. Songs for a New World. Phantom. Then, on the final stretch, Scarlet Pimpernel.

I started, "David walked into the valley, with a stone clutched in his hand..."

Manda joined in, "He was only a boy, but he knew someone must take a stand..."

We started softly. Then as we hit the chorus, we started to sing louder. We picked up the pace.

We were swiftly driving down the canyon, windows open, the wind blowing our hair haphazardly. We forgot all the same parts and giggled as we tried to remember the lines of music that we so adored.

As we nearly shouted the end, I sang the high descanty part, while she sang the melody proper. We came out of the canyon, the sun was golden and deliciously bathing everything in sunset.

I'm still a bit bitter about losing my sister to another state. But I'm glad that no matter where we are, no matter what we do, we will always have that moment, and hundreds of others just like it. Because we are sisters. We come from the same stock. We share many of the same thoughts.

Fare thee well, my darlingest Manda Face. May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be always at your back...but not literally I hope. You are clumsy enough as is, we don't need a Gaelic blessing being taken seriously now...

Think Lovely Thoughts, and They Lift You Into the Air!

2011-10-06T13:23:00.000-06:00

Things that make me smile:
My EPIC conversation with Sadie. I tell you. EPIC.
Watching A Philadelphia Story with Julia Gulia and some other friends from high school.
My dear friend Liesl and I's random conference adventures. We went on a drive Saturday morning, then listened to conference on the radio. We pulled over up in Spanish Fork Canyon next to a river. I climbed out and sat on a rock. The leaves were fall yellow, the tall grass was golden, the river reflected the sunlight. Everything was bright and calm and warm. I sat on my rock and listened to the aged voices as they spoke of things pertaining to everlasting life. The sun kissed my skin, and I felt quite content. Then on Sunday we went up to Salt Lake and lounged on the lawn at Temple Square while the talks were broadcast.
Talking to my sister yesterday. I miss her. It was wonderful to hear her voice.
Getting things figured out.
Andrew is going to come make me crepes for my birthday.
I got an 89.8% on my biology of plants test. I thought I hadn't done that well on it. Booyah gramma!
My celebratory fist pump when I found out my grade. I attracted the attention of my FHE brother who was passing by. We got to talk about my academic success and my entertaining celebration. It was great.
I was doing the dishes yesterday. Once I had finally come to terms with the fact the garbage NEEDED to be taken out, and I had come to terms with the fact that no one else was going to do it, I pulled it out of the trash. Celeste had come home, and while I was taking the trash out, she finished the dishes. Made my day.

Things that I don't care about:
My genetics test tomorrow. I can't seem to care. Don't worry, I'm going to a review tonight and to lab this afternoon. I will start caring. Probably right before I go into the testing center.
What anyone thinks about Andrew coming and making crepes for me. All of them can kindly butt out.

Things that make me feel anxious:
School. Not right now school. Which is what I SHOULD be working on. Future school. With complicated conflicting schedules that crush my dreams.

Life is just life. There is good, there is bad, but it is predominantly good. I just need to remember to roll with the punches, and take the bad with the good. Not let anything overtake me.

You WISH you were as cool as us...

2011-10-04T23:55:00.000-06:00

My roommate Sadie and I are huge nerds. We take immense pleasure in it.

With all the superhero movies that have come out recently, of course we have put ourselves in each other's phones with me as Captain America and her as Batman.

Why yes, they are in different universes. We don't understand why people throw such a fit about it.

We had a conversation today through text. This was the conversation:

Captain America (me): *text out of nowhere* You're adorable. Say it!

Batman (Sadie): No!

Captain America: Say it!

Batman: No!

Captain America: This isn't over. This isn't the last you'll see if Captain America! I'llbe back, Batman, and more powerful than ever!

Batman: Bring it on, Star-Spangled pansy! See if you can find me in the depths ofthe night!

Captain America: Hey, armored rich boy, all I'll need to do is shine a light, and you'llcome like a moth to its bright shiny doom.

Batman: What are you gonna do, toss your little shield at me? Sorry, walkingAmerican flag, but you're going to need more than that to take down the Batman.

Captain America: Oh, I'll use my heightened skills and clever plans to dominate you. Itook down the third Reich, you think you got anything on scary occult Nazis?Bring it, Mr. Can't Keep Anyone in Jail and Your Problems Just Keep Coming Backto Haunt You.

Batman: Oh, don't worry, I'll just set the scary robot coffee machine on you. How’sit going adapting to our technology today, you caveman? You haven't seen ANYTHINGlike the gadgets I'm capable of throwing at you.

Captain America: And yet, the silly things you'll throw at me won't be ANYWHERE as awesomeas the beating I'mma give you. Your gadgets have run out of creativityrecently. They're only explosives, mobiles, and throwing stars... I mean bats.I'm sure they're just as aerodynamic *cough* Where's your shark repellent now,Batman? Also, I've got Wolverine, Thor, and Ironman (let's just talk about coolgadget, shall we?) at my back. What you got, huh? Huh?

Batman: Ace the Bat-Hound, actually, and he's not the best person (or dog) behindme. Besides my genius butler Alfred, let's see you handle my own ninja skillsalong with Oracle, Nightwing, Batgirl, Bat-Ape, Black Canary, Catwoman, TimDrake, Damian Wayne, Power Girl, and all of the others who are willing to teamup with the Batman.

Captain America: Hmm. Didn't a bunch of those go crazy at one point or another? Also, Igot goverment funding and permission Mr. Vigilant With the Recurring Villains.And I'm pretty sure that my movie with all my backup is going to be epic. HelloJoss Whedon who rules the nerdverse with a kind but iron fist. Who you got,Christopher Nolan? Psh. Anne Hathaway? Ha!

Batman: Try Heath Ledger, baby, none of your villains were quite so brilliant!Awwh, little Loki - too bad your audience sympathizes with him and roots forhim instead of Thor! Face it, you soldier in colorful tights, you're not quitecut out for this line of work. Leave it to the pros and go dancing with thegirl - oh, I forgot. You left her in the past.

Captain America: Oh, well at least she WANTED to dance with me. Rachel was all set tomarry some other bloke. I suppose I'll give Heath Ledger, but you can't touchthis. I came back from the dead. I lived through the Great Depression. I tookdown a guy that terrified HITLER. The prospect of a few gadgets isn't thatscary.

Batman: I got more than just a few gadgets, kid. You think you're a hero just'cause someone made you a little faster and stronger? You think you're a hero'cause you've got a shield as bright as candy to throw around? Think again. WeREAL heroes built ourselves from the ground up. We were orphans and kids on thestreet and we became something real. We know that love doesn't work for us, sodon't chase cany fairytales and condemn the rest of us who are too selfless topull women into our dangerous lives. You've had, what, one soldier friend die?You're not a real hero yet. You're a kid chasing a dream who hasn't felt realloss and risen above it.

Captain America: Oh, yeah, you and your inheritance suffered so much. Dude, I grew up inthe streets. During the GREAT DEPRESSION in Brooklyn. None of that recessioncrap. I got beat up daily. I still didn't take any crap from anyone. I mightnot win, but without your fortune you're just a guy with a fear of bats.

Batman: Yeah, and without your silly little serum, you were just a kid who gotshoved around. You try building yourself up and embracing your fear to becomethe hero that people sometimes hate. Everyone loves their preciousStar-Spangled man, but could you do it in the face of utter despise? I don'tthink so. Try freezing yourself again, kid. (WHERE'S YOUR PIPPIN NOW?)

Captain America: Haha. I wave the white flag. Not of surrender, but of truce. No one isgoing to win (Elijah Wood!) because we are both too dang stubborn.

Don't you wish you were friends with us?

Also, the "Where's your Pippin now" and "Elijah Wood!" came from this:

http://www.movieline.com/2011/09/video-elijah-wood-challenges-dominic-monaghan-to-fantastic-fest-hobbit-vs-hobbit-fight.php

I Can See Clearly Now the Rain Has Gone...

2011-09-27T22:39:00.000-06:00

This morning, I was walking swiftly towards class. As I mused on the fact that I live north of campus, and all my classes are on the south side of campus, I looked up towards the mountains.

The sun peeked out from behind the mountains, through the canyon, and rays of golden light fell on me. The long blue shadows mixed with the bright morning light as I crossed the damp grass. The air was cool and felt lovely.

I smiled. There was no reason. A grin just spread over my face.

I looked at the changing mountains, and thought about organizing a fall hike. I looked at my phone, and noticing the time, picked up my pace. My full skirt swirled around my legs, a satisfying beautiful feeling.

I went to work, I was happy to help customers. I was bright and bubbly and energetic. I was ready to take on the world.

I am ready to take on the world.

For the first time in about a month, I feel like myself. I feel happy. I feel like things are right again.

There was that click.

I was able to handle the strange things that happened to me today with a happy demeanor, and really mean it.

I feel normal again. I feel good. I love that.

I feel great. Oh, and a fun discovery!

2011-09-20T13:11:00.001-06:00

I don't feel sick anymore. Which is wonderful. There is still some lingering cough and running nose, but for the most part I am feeling 100% better. I did Zumba yesterday, and while I wasn't able to do it as full out as I normally do, I made it the entire time.
I don't know there is something so nice about ranting, getting it off your chest, and then the next day feeling fantastic. Like you can bounce all over the place and take on the universe. Maybe cure world peace. (I was just going to leave this because I figured everyone would know I was being silly...but then I realized that my thought processes leave other people bewildered and confused. So I figured I would go back and let everyone know that I was being funny...it was bothering me...I thought people might think I was being serious...or writing nonsensical things without noticing...)

So when people ask me when I graduate, I generally say never. I then give a long winded explanation. The, "Well, I switched majors right before they wouldn't let me anymore (so I had a ton of credits) and only two of the classes transferred and I had to take some GEs and some prerequisite classes, so while credits wise I am a senior, in my major I am a junior, and I'm never graduating. Ever. Its fun."
This usually gives people a glazed confused look. I always promise myself that next time they ask me what year I am, or when I'm going to graduate, I'll tell them, I'm a junior, so probably in two years.
It never happens.

So, with that preface, I did some adding up. Because I was able to fit ecology into my schedule this semester (which is a prerequisite for a lot of classes...), I have one more semester's worth of credits for my biology classes. Then I have a semester and a half of teaching credits. Then student teaching.

This is going to happen guys. I'm going to graduate. If I wasn't going to China next fall, with some hard work and stress I would probably be able to graduate next winter...but I am going to China to teach English, and am thrilled at the prospect.
But graduating. It's totally going to happen. Can we just take a moment to savor the taste of impending diploma? A job that actually will give me real money? Not...a lot. But real money. Money to live on, to get out of Utah with, to travel with. A nice summer vacation with which to blow it all...lets face it, my prospects of marriage are nonexistent. I'm going to have adventures while I'm single.

Yeah, it won't be for a while. But it could totally be in the next year and a half if I tried really hard and gave up China. Which, lets face it, isn't going to happen. But there is still that possibility...its enough that it is a possibility.

Yay!

Sometimes life sucks...okay?

2011-09-18T22:27:00.000-06:00

Sometimes life sucks.

I'm sure you're all very aware of this.

Its made worse by the fact that I feel guilty for hating it. Not life. I love life. I love the people I meet, I love being a part of the LDS church, I love my family, I love life. Life has been very good to me. I have had countless wonderful experiences.

I hate the parts that suck. The parts where you just want to hole up in your room for a couple of weeks and ignore the rest of the world because you just hurt. You just want to pause life for a bit, until you have the proper amount of hatred and depression oozed out of you and into the abyss. Then you can go back to life chipper and happy.

But you can't. Life has to continue. The world continues to turn. School goes on, work needs you, friends clamor for your attention (their problems are always so much worse than yours), oh, and school continues.

Besides. You can't let other people know that you're unhappy. You can't do anything but put on a happy face and say, "Oh, I'm fine. Yeah, I got leprosy and my cows all died, but I'm fine. This is just one of those silly little trial things. I'll make it through alright. No problem. I'll do it with a smile and a skip in my step. Until my leg falls off and my lip decomposes off of my face. Then I'll have a skip hobble combo, with an unnatural leer. Also no milk or meat, because the cows are still dead."

You can't let people know that you're worried about money, or time, or school, or friends. You have to put on a happy face and cheerfully say, "Come what may, and love it!"

How? How do you go through crap and still say, "Well, it is a blessing to go through this trial!" and really mean it? Why am I (and so many people I know?) so afraid of saying, "This sucks. Dang. I hate this." crying for a bit, then moving on? Why aren't we allowed time to mourn for things we've lost, or time to complain and hate everything?

Because we bring everyone else down with our moody attitudey ways. Because our ancestors lost their children, their husbands, and their feet, but they still managed to sing, "And should we die before our journey's through, HAPPY DAY! All is well!" so if they can make it through all that, then dang it, you should be able to make it through this trial happy.

I mean, it sucks to talk about the same crappy thing every single day. It sucks to talk about all the same problems and issues over and over and over again. That doesn't help anyone get over it. Talking about the same thing over and over and over again won't solve any problems, and just creates more.

But still. Why is it, that when I do complain, there are a million disclaimers before hand.
"I KNOW that I shouldn't say this, but..."
"This is TERRIBLE of me to say, but..."
"I love this person, don't get me wrong, but..."
"I know I shouldn't complain, but..."

I know why I say these things. So that the person I'm talking to doesn't get all self righteous and in a sanctimonious manner condescendingly tell me, "Well. You shouldn't say things like that. Don't you have any sense? Omg, this is just a trial, and you'll get over it. Heavenly Father loves you, gosh, don't you know that?"

Sometimes, I just want someone to listen. To not think I'm a terrible human being for wanting to let off some steam. For someone to listen, and then to validate me. Let me know that I'm not crazy, not insane, not a terrible human being for not being perfect and handling things perfectly.

My boyfriend broke up with me two weeks ago. I didn't see it coming, and I felt as though I had been sucker punched. Following that, I had allergic reactions to something for a week. I have never before had allergies like that. There had been a few things before, like I was suddenly allergic to cats like three weeks ago, but nothing else. I had some kind of stomach virus last weekend, and a sore throat for the rest of the week. During that two week period I had about 12 hours of illness free.

On top of that all, my dietary habits are becoming more and more restricted. I don't eat gluten, dairy, or chocolate now.
I eat healthier than most people I know. I mean, I eat more tortilla chips than most people I know too, but other than that, I eat a remarkable amount of fruits and vegetables.

There are a couple of other things that my body has done that make me wonder what the heck is wrong with me, and should I be concerned that something more is happening.

I hate it. I hate that my body is doing this. I hate that all this is happening along with a piece of my heart getting ripped out. I hate that everything seems to be falling in on itself and I have to keep going. I don't have time to worry about things like my family. I don't have time to worry about money. I don't have time to be sick. I don't have time to lie in bed and get better. I don't have time to have fuzzy brains and incoherence. I have homework to do. People to see. Places to go.

Thinking of happy joyful things doesn't always work. Listing good things doesn't always make me happy again. Thinking of the gospel and how good it is doesn't always work.

Those things help. But sometimes it just really sucks. There is nothing to be done. Happiness isn't a switch. It can't be turned on and off.

Reasons to Smile at Life

2011-09-12T23:15:00.000-06:00

I feel as though I have been complaining a TON this past week. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my allergies make my life hurt. My exboyfriend broke up with me for vague and unspecific reasons that I don't understand (which he confesses that HE doesn't understand). No one likes me, I am obnoxious and cloying, and everyone else is so much more interesting and fascinating than I am, because I amm boring and annoying.

I'm done with that. Yeah, all of those things MIGHT be true. But I'm inclined to think that its mostly the boyfriend dumping me that is making me react in a whiny and crybabyish fashion. Oh, and the physical pain. Yeah. That too.

So. Here we go.

Things that make me happy:
My roommate Sadie. Who, even after living with me for the past week, still likes me and wants to be my friend/roommate. She who puts up with me when I'm snappy and mean. She is a great wonderful person. Everyone needs a Sadie.
My dear dear dear friend Liesl. Who ALSO listens to my melodramatic rantings. Who makes me laugh. Who actually texts me. Who goes on random adventures with me, anywhere from scenic drives to the middle of nowhere so we can dance around and belt songs at the top of our lungs, to bars where great embarrassment occurs, to laying down in the middle of the road to watch the stars. Everyone needs a Liesl.
My wonderful friend Jewel. Who is going to have the most adorable child on the face of the planet. With her and Jeffe's genetics, how could he not be? She also listens to my melodrama and still loves me and thinks I'm great. She's going to be singing a fun little song at my funeral. Everyone needs a Jewel.
Even though it is over, and I'm kind of depressed about it, I'm glad I got to date Andrew. He was a genuinely good guy, and he made me feel like a million bucks. I got to have my first ever boyfriend experience and learned a lot. Also, kissing is great.
I'm grateful that I'm able to actually focus on schoolwork and get it done when I need to. Last year really was so hard for me, because I was so tired and couldn't focus. I'm glad that I figured out that dairy was the culprit and the increased energy and focus that followed was amazing. Unfortunately, eating dairy now leaves me listless and makes my arms and legs ache like there is no tomorrow.
I'm grateful for my wonderful ward, which feels like a community. It feels like a place where I belong. I love my bishop and counselors.
I really like my roommates. I feel bad for them for having to deal with me for the past week though.
I really like my home evening brothers. They are all fun and rather fantastic. We have good times. They are all so willing to help. Its nice.

I Can See Clearly Now the Rain Has Gone

2011-09-09T11:52:00.000-06:00

I've been kind of miserable, and as a result, misery causing since Saturday.

I feel worlds better now. I'm sure my roommates appreciate it.

My exboyfriend broke up with me on Saturday. We were at the Storytelling Festival, and he broke up with me. I didn't see it coming. I'm not entirely sure he saw it coming.
Cue the drama.
I've tried to stay off of the airwaves. Whenever I feel depressed or irrational, I try to stay away from facebook. And my blog. Which obviously doesn't always work, but I try.

I'm sure you guys have appreciated the attempts.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Add to that some health issues and a ridiculously achy body, I was not winning any prizes for "Most Fun Girl EVAR!"

He called me on Tuesday. Cue the angsty feelings and unhappiness.

Since the lines of communication were opened, we started texting again. Then he called me Wednesday night after I was being angsty through text.

Then we had a conversation. Nothing magical happened in this conversation. He didn't beg for me to forgive him and to take him back. I didn't grovel at his feet and beg him to take me back (thank goodness).

But quite suddenly I felt better.

It was so bizarre.

I don't understand. I'm not complaining, but there is a definite lack of understanding.

Then I took a shower, and my body magically stopped feeling achy.

As I sat on my couch, my hair poofed into an unmanageable mess of frizz and curl, and a small bubble of happiness rose up in my chest and bumped into my heart.

Adventures, moments, and stress, oh my!

2011-08-29T23:40:00.000-06:00

Today was my friend Smash's birthday. As we romped around the Orem/Provo area and had a generally lovely time (minus running into her ex-husband. Who was stalking her. Apparently he had been asking one of our friends where we were going to be tonight. When she refused to tell him, he drove all over Orem/Provo looking for us. Nice guy) we were in Borders. I saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar.

"How do I know you?" she asked looking at me in a confused manner.

"Callbacks for Little Women?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"YES!" She said as her eyes lit up, "Were you cast as Jo?"
"No. I wasn't, but I'm pretty alright with that."
"Oh. I thought for sure it was going to be you. You were the best."

It kinda made my night.

It was the first day of classes. I'm stressing about my schedule.

I miss LDC.

One Day More

2011-08-28T16:34:00.000-06:00

Here I stand (or rather sit), looking towards the new semester. Eyeing the future with a contradictory mixture of carefree unease.

There is the customary fluttering of nerves as the new classes threaten to overwhelm me. I'm taking some difficult classes. I am worried about the possibility of taking on more than I can chew.

I'm worried about other things. Keeping them all in balance. Making sure that I don't devote too much time to any one thing.

I'm hoping that my new apartment will be relatively drama free and fun. Thus far it seems nice. Only four of us are here, two still have yet to make an appearance. I have lived with one girl before and knew two of them from last year. All are exceedingly nice girls. Our FHE brothers are incredibly friendly and seem very fun. I've already hung out with ward friends a couple of times since moving in.

But in the face of all these things, I'm not incredibly concerned. I'm worried, but not overly so. I'm ready to take on this year. I'm excited for the knowledge that will forcibly insert itself into my brain. I'm excited for the friendships, the experiences that I will get, the sense of community that I already feel living here.

I love living on my own. I love the independence and the freedom. I love making my own choices and doing what I want to do. Without having to tell someone, without having to check to see if its ok. I am good at taking care of myself. I love to.

We have one more day. One more day until school. One more day until things really start to take off. One more day of summer.

I'm ready for the future.

Its strange. I've always been one to dread it and dig my heels in and stubbornly deny that it actually is coming. But I'm ready.

Even though I'm going to miss LDC. That still causes my heart to ache. All my friends. All the experiences. Brother Eggetts ability to communicate what the spirit tells him to. Often times directly to me, leaving me stunned, shaken, tear stained, and fully believing the truth of the gospel. Feeling and sharing the spirit as I sing. Loving the gospel and trying to be a quality person. Love for the other 65 people. The only other ones who KNOW. Who get it. Who understand, because they are going through the same things, hearing the same words, singing the same songs, undergoing the same insanity.

It starts tomorrow. My sweet wonderful choir. They are all going to meet together. To sing. To listen as Brother Eggett gives them the speech about how this choir isn't about last year, it is THIS year that matters. Let the new people in. Okay? Ok.

It is alright though. I don't know how I am going to fit all the things into this semester that need to be fit in. School, studying, work, friends, roommates, boyfriend...having choir added to that wouldn't be good for my sanity.

I can't help but miss it though. I'm mourning the loss. But its going to be alright. I have so many other things.

I'm Never Gonna Grow Up, Am I?

2011-08-23T01:09:00.001-06:00

Today I went to a wedding reception for a friend of mine from high school. I saw many people I knew. It was a fun little reunion of high school friends. Also, what the random, my friend from Botswana.

I saw one of my friends from high school. Or rather, he saw me and approached me. He hugged me and we started exchanging pleasantries. You know, the usual. "You just got back from your mission, how do you feel? What are you up to? School? Work?" etc.

He said, "So, you're married now, right?"

My response, "WHAT?!?!?!?! NOOOOOOO! I am not married. I've only been dating someone for a few weeks. This is all so sudden. Brain cannot compute so I'm going to scream some random syllables now to express my feelings on the matter. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! OOOOOOOOOOOY!!!!!!!!" Perhaps not quite so emphatic, but that is how I felt.

After I left the conversation I went, *facepalm* 'That was an overreaction. Dang...he probably thinks I'm sooo strange...'

But my embarrassment about socially awkward situations is not the point.

Apparently the thought of me being married is still very repulsive to me. Less so, than it was. But really panic inducing and not at all anything I am ready to embark on at this time. The rest of the evening involved all my friends saying that because I was dating someone, the next obvious step was marriage, so why don't I get on that? Soon. Come on. Just do it.

I wish they had seen my reaction to the thought of my marriage from earlier. The sheer mind numbing panic.

I'm sure it was just teasing.

*shudder*

The theater, the theater, what happened to the theater?

2011-08-16T20:15:00.000-06:00

I realize that I never wrote about my callbacks. I want to.

It was an excellent experience.

I went to the auditions. They sent an email that told us that there was going to be dancing, so dress comfortably. I pinned my hair up and I wore my basketball shorts. It lasted for about a half an hour. I felt completely useless. Then they were going to send people home to enjoy their Wednesday night. I assumed I would be enjoying a nice night with my friend shortly.

They called my name as one to stay. I was somewhat shocked, considering my crappy dance audition.

They gave us the roles we would be singing/reading for.

They went through the names for Meg. Meg/Beth. Beth. Amy. I didn't hear my name. I felt a hollow pit in my stomach as I went, "It was a mistake. I shouldn't be here. I should leave."

Then Jo/Amy. Erin Wright. My choir friend Kelsie looked at me excitedly and grabbed my hand. "Congratulations," she mouthed at me.

Shock.

I got my music. I practiced my lines.

All the other girls looked pretty and amazing. I...did not. Hello. Basketball shorts. Shade shirt. Wahoo.

I did so well.

The only thing I feel like I could have done better with was the song Some Things Are Meant to Be. Argh. But all the other things were amazing. I wailed on that Eb for Astonishing.

I got to read lines. I feel like I did very well on that. Acting wasn't my forte. But I did so well.

Dang. I did great.

I feel like that experience was what I needed. To make me realize, "Oh. I miss the theatre. I ache to perform. I want to drama."

I got called back for Jo. A dream role. Not an old frumpy lady.

Because I really was good at it. I wasn't fantastic. I won't be winning any Tony's. But I have talent. I have the ability to do well. I have the voice.

I'm so much more mature now than I was in high school. I was with three other girls who were all amazing. I didn't feel as though my talent was in jeopardy because they were also good. I knew that I wasn't going to get the part, but that didn't matter.

I feel like any of us could have gotten the part. It just depended on who they wanted for the other parts, and the looks. I asked to not be in ensemble if I couldn't be a lead. I'm going to be very busy this fall. If I'm going to be in a play I am going to have it be worth it to me.

It reminded me of when I was a senior in high school. I craved a lead in one of the Shakespeare scenes. I practiced my monologue until I probably could have recited it backwards. I was cute, flirty, and fun. It was magical. I made my peers laugh. I made Pam giggle and clap her hands and give me some instructions to make it even better.

"As I am a woman...*slow smug satisfied smile*...now alas the day!"

I knew I was going to get a part. Whatever else happened that year, I was GOING to be in a scene. Hello Merry Wives of Windsor, where I was Mistress Ford. Connie was Mistress Page. We were silly. It was fun. Our scene got 3rd place. Holla! It was a comedy. Comedies don't win. Not ensemble scenes anyways. The two ensemble scenes that got 1st and 2nd place were all depressing.

Now I feel that burning in my bosom once again. The desire to be in a show. To memorize lines. To get up on stage and belt out some awesome notes, leaving everyone in shock and awe. To have that feeling of confidence and peace that rests within me as the bright lights threaten to blind me. To clearly recite the script.

I loved having that experience. It gave me the will to try again. The fire was rekindled.

It was a great night. It was also the night my friend and I became more than friends.

It was a good night.

Hair We Are!

2011-08-16T18:44:00.000-06:00

I have been experimenting with my hair quite a bit recently. Braids and curls and twists, oh my!

I used to have three hairstyles. Straight hair, ponytail/bun, or--very occasionally--half ponytail. Not very exciting.

But recently I've just been trying all these different things. I've been letting my hair do its own thing (much to the shock of Liesl) and letting it become frotastically curly. I've been trying to find flattering updo's and fun styles. For example, today my hair has three tiny French braids that go to a large bun. I've gotten a ton of compliments. It only took about seven minutes. I've been trying to find the least troublesome hairstyles for days when I have no time, but still want to look reasonably human. This makes the cut.

I actually just bought a bunch of hair products that I am eager to try out. Nothing super fancy, I'm just excited to be trying them out.

I haven't gotten a haircut in since...February? Far too long. My bangs are once again down beyond my chin. I want cute bangs, dang it!

I want to dye my hair. Nothing too dramatic. Get a darker color, or some fun highlights. Just...something. The only time in my life that involved the dying of my hair was that disastrous blue streak...now I have a cool blond streak though.

I've been trying to fix my clothes for the past two years. Trying to become more fashionable, or at least less frumpy. Now that I feel like I've kind of succeeded, I want to work on my hair. I feel like I've already sorta succeeded with make up. I'm working on the whole perfect skin thing. It is not to be though. No matter what I do, there is always more. Le sigh. Although my current thing seems to be working rather well.

I just was never a girly girl. Now...I am totally a girly girl.

Its fun. I like it. I don't know why I avoided it for so long. Probably because I felt like I couldn't be a strong intelligent woman and still be feminine. Which is very untrue.

Sam. We're going in circles. We've been here before.

2011-08-14T20:10:00.000-06:00

As I walked down the halls, pushing my cart and trudging along at my steady pace, I felt that same surge of deja vu, that same feeling of, 'I've been here before. I've done this. This wasn't supposed to happen again.'

But it did.

The deja vu really isn't surprising. I have done it all before.

I just wasn't expecting to.
There are the good bits.
Every time I see June, her eyes light up and she reaches out to squeeze my hand. She asks how I am doing, and how good it is to see me again. Another June tells me how happy she is that I am back. My June, however, isn't.
The funny things that the residents say to each other. To me. The general feeling of good, that I am helping people who genuinely need it.

Then there were the other bits.

Today I listened to Grant tell Edna that he hurt all over. He didn't see himself lasting much longer. He wanted to make sure that she was alright. To make sure that she was prepared.
They aren't married. They were next door neighbors for 40 years before their spouses died and they decided to date. They went to Europe together. Twice. They never got married, but they genuinely love each other. I love seeing them, sitting on the couch, best of friends. Holding hands. Comfortable with each other.

I don't see him lasting much longer either. You can always tell when they are about to go. Watching them slowly degenerate is painful.
Seeing the stark contrast of some of the residents from almost exactly one year ago is nothing short of shocking. Hollowed cheeks. Sunken eyes. Sporadic behavior, because their grip on reality is oh so slowly slipping away. Some have a look of wide eyed fear. Some look exhausted. Still others just look confused.

My heart still aches when I think about June and Eileen. I read their obituaries today. Its strange how anyone can have that much impact on a person. I only told them my silly stories as I cleaned their rooms, and later served them food. But they made me look forward to working on those days. They kept me sane and reminded me why I continued to work there. They had words of wisdom and much appreciated advice to give.
I can't believe I'll never hear June say, "Oh honey. Thank you so much. I appreciate you so much." or Eileen say in a rather wickedly delightful voice, "Soooo. How is your love life?"
I'm glad I wasn't there still when they died. They died in the same month.

There is still that furious burning anger at some of the resident's families. Abandoning them, to only visit on those all too rare special occasions. The residents walk the halls in a bewildered state of confusion. The unfamiliar, but friendly, faces don't help them to fully grasp their reality.
You DON'T abandon family. That is wrong. I don't care what your excuses are. You DON'T abandon family and only go to visit on birthdays and Christmas. I don't care if its painful, I don't care if it inconvenient, if you abandon your aging mother in a rest home, you are scum. Especially considering most nursing/assisted living homes. I work in a very nice one. What about the less expensive ones where the service isn't as good? Where their calls for assistance go unanswered? You are sending them to an early grave. Not where I work, but other places yes. I wish something bad and slightly maiming on those people that think that is an acceptable alternative to taking care of their family.
(I feel like I should mention that I know there are situations where they should most definitely live in a nursing home. In some cases it is impossible for the family to attend to all the aging person's needs. I'm not condemning people for making the decision to put their family in a nursing home. I'm condemning the ones that leave them there to die. Who NEVER visit. Who never bother to call. Because it's too "painful" to see their loved one like that.
Where you're going, its going to be painful there too.
I'm sorry, do I sound like I feel strongly about this? Wait. Its because I do.)

There is still that fond feeling for the family members that DO come and visit most days. The ones that make certain their parents or grandparents are doing alright. The ones who get to know all the residents and workers and try to stay caught up on everything. Who remind their parents or grandparents that they are loved and they are going to be cared for no matter what.

My job is exhausting. It drains me physically, and leaves my emotions in a wreck of misery. I've worked there seven days in a row. I'm so glad this week is over.

Seven more days until I get a break.

I'm sorry if this post was depressing. I'm just sort of feeling depressed.

There's a Place For Us...

2011-08-13T18:17:00.000-06:00

Can I do this? Please? Before I die?

MOVE from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

LEARN from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

EAT from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

Someday...someday...

In Which Erin Sort of Acts Like a Silly Girl

2011-08-10T20:29:00.000-06:00

1) I feel like this http://xkcd.com/684/

2) I'm trying not to act like that. Because it is obnoxious.

3) Can I just say this though? Without anyone rolling their eyes at me and thinking that I am just being a lame girl? Can I? Please? Really? Thank you.

I have celiac disease (did that surprise anyone? I bet you didn't think I was going to bring that up...did you? Especially with that build up). Oh that oppressive terrible thing that causes the mere presence of gluten to utterly DESTROY my intestines.

I also have some problem with milk. I'm not exactly sure what that problem is (probably just a small allergy. Do allergies to things generally make people exhausted and unable to function like a normal human being?), but I try to avoid this substance as well. Its mostly working. Cheese. I miss you.

This causes issues with eating places.

When we are on dates, my BOYFRIEND only eats things that I can eat. I didn't ask him to. I didn't expect him to. He just...is.

That makes him pretty swell in my book. I think he likes me. There is no other explanation. Nothing else would makes someone give up everything that tastes good.

4) I wish he would get back to Utah.

*also as a side note. This isn't footnoting anything. It just doesn't really fit with anything else.
I am on day 3 of my 14 day work week. Yes. You read that right. I am working 14 days straight. No break for Erin. Le sigh. It hurts. I'm just really ready for it to be next week, so I can work at the ticket office again. Education Week! Its fun. So much better than cleaning! So much less exhausting and draining and generally spirit breaking. Its also less scary to go back because we are going to continue using Vendini. HAPPY DAY! But still. 11 days to go. I think I can I think I can I think I can I think therefor I am...

Happiness

2011-08-08T01:09:00.000-06:00

Things are strange and weird, but it will all work out.

The future makes no sense, but that is alright.

I'm happy right now. Life feels like it is in place and things are of the good.

Even though its probably all going to go topsy turvy once school starts. Even though he's leaving until his school begins and has moved away to a (might as well be) far distant land. Even though nothing has gotten resolved.

I am happy.

I feel pretty. I feel like life has an additional glow to it. I feel like things are coming together.

I am happy.

Day the 16th and 17th I thinkest? Or perhaps the 17th and 18th...hmm...too bad I can't be bothered to care...

2011-08-02T23:51:00.001-06:00

Yesterday: Nothing really of note happened. I stayed on my mattress all day in my pajamas. I went to FHE. That was about as exciting as it got. I need something to keep me busy. Argh.

Today: I stayed in bed. Finished season 3 of Eureka. No more. I refuse to watch any more Eureka. I can't get caught up in that silliness again. I can't get dragged into anymore TV shows. They do NOT have a good impact on my psyche. I hate sitting all day, and TV shows encourage that.

Then I went and got slurpees with Jason. Then I went to a movie with Jon. I actually got out. Oh happy day with joyous glee. I went to a pawn shop for the first time ever today. Three of them. It was exciting.

I went and auditioned for Little Women.

I got home from Thor and I suddenly knew what I was going to do. I ran downstairs and changed. I found my Thoroughly Modern Millie music book. I ran out to the car and drove to the Scera. Adrenaline pumped through my system. Nothing like auditioning.

I went into the building. I passed the popcorn machines and the children tending to them.

I went up to the desk. Signed my name. Got a paper. Filled out my information. My pathetic performance history. Pathetic. Last show: Crazy For You.

Pathetic.

The girl who was with me was nervously chatty. She looked very pretty in her red dress and with her coiffed hair. My hair was in a french braid that curved around my head and fluffy curls had escaped, while I was wearing jeans.

I immediately felt shabby and unfortunately underdressed for the situation.

I shakily held my book as I descended the stairs. I fidgeted as I sat, my nervous energy trying to escape somehow. Kyle from choir appeared with his spouse. That was a pleasant surprise. I listened as the red dress girl sang Someone Like You. She left the room and gathered her things. She went up the stairs. It was my turn. I walked into the room. I went up to the pianist. Gave him my music. Showed him where to start from. Tried to give him the speed.

I went to the directors. Gave them my pathetic sheet.

I walked to the X.

Those of you who've auditioned for things, you know that X. The place where all your hopes and dreams are mercilessly shattered as you pour your soul into a song and the auditioners look like they can barely stay awake. That most terrifying of letters where you can barely squeak out a note, or where suddenly your limbs are spasmodic and you don't quite know what happened.

That didn't happen this time.

I sang Gimme Gimme and I belted out all those notes like I have countless times. But this time it counted. As it got to the end I started that final, "LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE" that goes on for a million counts. Its only a high C, which is probably one of the easiest notes to belt, but it certainly sounds impressive.

I finished.

The pianist put my Millie on top of the piano. "Good job" he said with that little laugh people give when they are impressed.

The director looked at me. "We're having callbacks tomorrow. I don't know what time, we're still figuring that out. Be sure to check your emails tomorrow. We want you to be there though."

"Thank you!" I replied with understandable enthusiasm, "See you then"

I went up the stairs. The girl at the table asked me how it had gone.

"I made call backs!"

"Nice!"

Its a happy feeling.

I'm not expecting a part or anything. But...to be in a show again...how glorious. Especially since LDC won't be happening. It could help fill in a gap.

Argh. Now I'm letting my hopes get up. Those silly hopes. They shouldn't take flight that would be bad. I just don't have the resume to get a part. I just don't have any of the prerequisites required for getting into a play with such a small cast. Besides killer vocals.

The fear of the dark, it's growing inside of me...but no more

2011-08-02T00:30:00.000-06:00

I was in first grade. Mrs. Johnson's class. We were having a fiesta for some reason or other. It might have been for Cinco de Mayo. It was spring. The sunlight was getting brighter and the classes becoming stuffy. We were becoming restless. The reason for our celebration wasn't important. What was important was the fiesta.

And the pinata. There was a pinata. Such a thing I had never seen. I had only ever heard of those magnificent treasure troves of candy.

They had told us that the people who would get the chance to swing at the pinata were going to be picked from a hat. Mrs. Johnson told us to eat a good breakfast that morning, just in case we were picked.

I wanted to be picked so badly.

That morning I chattered excitedly to my mother about the fiesta. I ate oatmeal that morning in preparation. I prayed fervently that the slip of paper reading my name would be drawn. All day, I excitedly thought of that party. No class, fun snacks, and--most importantly--the pinata.

We all filed into the appointed classroom. This was the classroom where we watched educational films in which cartoon dinosaurs informed us about flossing and losing teeth, and raccoon's cheerfully sang songs about the letters of the alphabet. But this was different. This was a fiesta!

My class followed one after another with our arms folded, and our hands firmly clamped into our armpits. We all were silent. No one wanted to risk missing out on the party. We had never been so silent in all our time together.

Once we entered the room, our first grade selves all sat Indian style in a square around the room, leaving the center open. Our knees knocked into each other and the nervous fidgety hush seemed to envelope the entire room.

There, in the very center of the room, hung the pinata. It was shaped like some sort of equestrian animal. perhaps a horse. Maybe a donkey. It could have been a mule. It had brightly colored stripes and tissue paper streaming every which way. To our little first grade minds, this was it. There was candy stuffed within that cardboard construction of awesomeness. There was no doubt in our minds that this was a party.

The teachers explained to us what was going to happen. They were going to select the names at random and those that were called up were going to be able to swing at the pinata.

Finally they got to it. They got the hat. They pulled out the first name.

"Erin Wright!"

I froze. My little seven year old brain short circuited. It broke. Did not compute.

Everyone turned to look at me. They stared. The teacher looked at me expectantly.

I could feel my insides withering. I didn't know what to do. The feeling of panic grasped me with such force, all I could muster was a shaking of the head, and a quiet, "I don't want to."

They picked the next name. I spent the rest of the time sitting in shock. I was accumulating a hollow feeling within my chest. I barely noticed when the pinata cracked open and the teachers had to restrain the ravenous children from descending on that pinata's carcass and entrails like hyenas. I spent the party quietly trying to figure out exactly what had happened.

I went home and my mom asked me how the party was. I responded with a quiet noncommittal answer and climbed down the stairs.

To this day, I still think of that experience and wince. I still think, "what if?"

What if I had jumped up and hit that pinata like it was nobody's business? What if I hadn't lived with the fear and let it overwhelm me?

Its a silly thing. Its so ridiculous that I still think of that moment and cringe. I know it is stupid.

But it was a defining moment.

I'm afraid I let fear rule my life for far too long.

I missed out on so many things. Because of that freezing fear. The panic that put me into escape mode. That hollowness that filled my chest.

That was the first moment that I can point to and go, "THERE! That is where it started!"

I have so many regrets.

But no more. I'm not going to live with that fear. That debilitating panic.

No more running away.

Then it was only a pinata. In high school it was only a boy. But what about now? What will I lose now if I let fear rule my life?

That frightens me more than anything else.

Two by two, hands of blue...well...they weren't blue, but I was wearing gloves...

2011-08-01T00:21:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was a special day. It was Saturday. The day we get ready for Sunday.
I worked. For nine hours, I worked. Ow.

I went back. To Courtyard. I'm working there again. There were all the same feelings. The happiness because I was serving people who really needed it. The tired because I worked really hard. The stress because I was working hard and was extremely tired. The sadness because June and Eileen are dead.

I remembered why I wanted to work elsewhere. Because it hurts. Mentally and physically.

I had some fun experiences today.

Like when I talked to Helen.

Helen tends to be sitting there, then start shouting, "Help! Help! Help!" until someone answers her.

After responding to her continuous plea, I asked what she needed help with.

The following conversation ensued.

Helen: Who're you?
Me: I'm Erin.
Helen: Oh. Well I'm Helen.
Me: Tell me about yourself Helen
Helen: I'm pretty.
Me: Yes. Yes you are. What do you do?
Helen: I'm busy. Busy busy. I work.
Me: Oh yeah? Where do you work?
Helen: No man's land.
Me: Oh yeah? How is that?
Helen: Well, it's hard.

They are so funny/sweet/wonderful. Which is bad.

I felt pretty today though. I did my hair like this. I got a lot of compliments. My boss is letting me go to church because I am doing him a favor by working until he can find a replacement. I just went to sacrament meeting, but it was nice. I wore my cute checked skirt that I got at THE garage sale for two dollars. Because I'm awesome. Its probably my favorite skirt ever. Its just so flouncy and adorable.

I can take on the world in that skirt. It has buttons for pete's sake.

I hate working on Sundays. Then I went home and almost had an emotional breakdown. My poor family, they have to deal with so much. I'm such a terrible daughter/sister sometimes.

I'm glad that my family are all back from their various adventures. I like not being the only person in the house at night. I guess I also like having them around.

Like when I was nearly bursting into tears and Connoray came up to me and hugged me. He patted my shoulder and said, "I love you Erin. Its gonna be ok"

Later, Sam came up to Connoray and I, as we made orange chicken.

"I love you guys. You are the best family I know. You're all my best friends."

I reached up on my tip toes and kissed him on the cheek.

He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

It made my day.

I have the best family/friends in the world.

Oh hai...I missed another one...

2011-07-30T02:09:00.000-06:00

I didn't write last night...because. :p

So. Yesterday. I got a job back at Courtyard for the next few weeks as housekeeper as a weekender and a substitute. Very mixed feelings about this. But hey. Money!

I went to a bar for the first time. Don't worry there was no alcohol consumption. Just embarrassment aplenty.
So much. I felt very out of place.

The Pina Colada was good though.

I ran a little over a mile yesterday. Straight with no stopping. Can we just talk about how awesome that is? No?...oh. Well fine. Just! Let me for a minute! I love that I can do it!

Today I went in for training. I watched about five episodes of Eureka. I went to an LDC reunion. I went to a stake thing. I kept going from happy to sad. Wanting people then not.

It was interesting.

Twelve plus Eleven

2011-07-27T23:54:00.000-06:00

I didn't do a post yesterday. I didn't feel like it. I was tired.

I had gotten home from my first ever Christian heavy metal concert. It was pretty exciting, I'm not gonna lie, it was exciting. It was a pretty fun date. My ears are still recovering though.

Favorite things from today:

Jewel. I got to see Juju. Such a happy day. We made breakfast, talked, and I got to feel Baby Boy Thomas move. It was exciting. I love her lots.

I got to watch The Return of the King with Liesl. Which was excellent. It was fun to watch with her, because she is hilarious, and we both know the movies so well that it was fun.

Zumba. I'm good at the cardio now. Its so great. I'm not exhausted when I exercise anymore. I feel so awesome about it. I love being fit and able to do the things I want to do.

Bad: I've been really tired. I've been trying the dairy again. My body did not enjoy that. At. All. No digestive problems. Just exhaustion.

No motivation to do anything. At all.

Eating waaaaaay too much food.

But I am trying to do things to make myself feel better. I'm trying to eat things that are good for me and will make me happy on the inside. I've been getting too much sleep. Which is about nine hours. Which is way too much for me.

But, it is all good. This too shall pass.

Ten!

2011-07-26T01:44:00.000-06:00

Today I felt like a pimple ridden, slothful, sorry excuse for a human being.

Then I went to FHE which was a pool party.

I was sitting in the hot tub.

I smiled at an attractive boy and he made eye contact with me.

He came into the hot tub.

Perhaps he just wanted to enjoy the warmth and the soothing bubbles.

But I'm just going to tell myself that he got in because of me.

Because it makes me feel good about myself.

Nein!

2011-07-25T02:41:00.000-06:00

Today was good.
I made cupcakes. Which were delectable. I had to mess with the recipe a bit, because we were out of certain things, and some of the measurements didn't work out. But they tasted amazing. All hail my magic cooking skills.
I looked cute today. My hair worked, I wore a skirt that I love, I wore funky jewelry. I like Sundays. I think if I could, I would wear nice clothes every single day. Like a skirt or a dress. I just like it. I like feeling like I can take on the world while looking fabulous.

I resolved an issue that has been bothering me for the past couple weeks. Which is of the good. I need to just learn to face my problems, instead of worrying about them until I freak out about them. Then face them. Only to find out there was nothing to worry about.

For FHE tonight we talked about Hill Cumorah, and some of the experiences the family that went had. I'm so jealous. I'm going next year though.

I want to be a Lamanite Dancer.

I am not a dancer.

(Don't get me wrong. I dance all the time. I'm just not certain if it can properly be termed "dancing." I am still very much a beginner. Although I can do a double now. HAH!)

Ahem.

This is a problem. But I want it to happen. So I am going to make it happen. This is a dream. Since I was six. The Lamanite Dancer role has changed over the years, but they still have that golden glow of awesomeness about them.

I figure if I keep up with the Zumba, and practice dancing for the next year or so, lose 30 pounds, use my father's political pull (which I would never stoop to doing...right?), and just pray a lot, it will happen. Right?

Right?

Alone

2011-07-24T22:50:00.000-06:00

Some days I just want to be solitary. To not talk to anyone. Today was one of those days.

(It isn't in a self pitying way. Just...I wanted to be alone. I think that freaks people out sometimes. Because if someone wants to be alone, there HAS to be something wrong with them. No one would ever be alone by choice.)

I did not get that.

I am currently living on a mattress under a table in our basement (you think Harry Potter had it bad?). There is no room at the inn for me (or a cupboard under the stairs...), yet here I am.

Sunday means no work or anything besides church. For everyone.

Due to unbearable heat in our house, the basement is the coolest place in the house. Do you see where I am going with this? Do you?

The basement turned out to be the retreat for half of my family. I...was less than thrilled. I wanted to read and wallow in silence. But there my mom was cheerfully using her Cricket (which is some kind of scrapbooking machine that cuts things and makes beeping noises) and chatting to my sister and father.

I went upstairs to the living room, where the boys were listening to Harry Potter and nit picking at each other.

I went back downstairs. Where the cricket chirped and whirred cheerfully.

I grabbed a Betty Crocker gluten free cake mix from my box of things. I went back upstairs to the kitchen, How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack blaring in my direction, cutting out the sound of Jim Dale's brilliant voice, mixing with my brother's gruff voices and girly squeals. I started to mix things. I adapted a recipe from the internet to make chocolate cupcakes from what I had. Dairy be damned, I made cream cheese frosting.

It added to the heat. But it gave me that solitude I was craving. No one came near the hot kitchen. I stirred and scraped in silence and sweat. I got to use my hands. I got to create something delicious. I felt a bit better. After about an hour I went back downstairs. I plugged in a fan to block out the cutting and beeping sounds from that high tech cricket. My father left. I laid down and read the Eyre Affair.

I felt better. Finally I had gotten what I wanted.

Solitude.

Eight. Like an octopus. Or a spider. Ick.

2011-07-24T01:38:00.000-06:00

Ouch.

I hiked the Squaw Peak Summit Trail. Its anywhere from 6-8 miles roundtrip. I saw several different lengths given when I looked online...

I made it.

Can we just take a moment to talk about the fact that I made it?

Even though near the top, my heart started pounding in my ears. Even though I wanted to lie down in a handy field of wilted wildflowers and die slowly. Even though my legs were protesting. Even though I took a break near the top that lasted for longer than it should have. Even though I do have problems with the altitude and almost wanted to throw up at one point (none of my companions knew about it though. I contained it very well).

I. Made. It.

And I did well up until the end.

I am not weak. I can do anything. One of the things that has always held me back in my life is physical stuff. I was always the last at the "fun" run. I was always the person whose physical problems limited me.

No more.

Also. I am no longer tempted by wheat products. Don't get me wrong. I still get mad cravings (don't you dare take your ability to eat Ramen for granted. Or macaroni and cheese. Or pizza) but I never have the desire to eat it. It is so strange. I used to stare at the food and have to mentally tell myself, "No. Erin. You don't want to do that. Your intestines will be ripped to shreds. Just don't do it. Its not worth it." which would lead to mixed results.

Now, I don't even care. Its the strangest thing.

Let's not talk about the dairy thing, I'm still working on that. There are days (like today) where it is just too complicated. Ah well.

I am strong. I can do anything I want to. I have will power. I can do whatever I set out to do.

Do you have any idea what that means to me?

I got to hang out with my Becca friend. We went to Macaroni Grill (hello spinach and scallop salad, where on earth have you been all my life? Those cloves of roasted garlic? I love you. So. Much.) and then had frozen yogurt (I admit it. I slipped. I just really wanted ice cream, and the whole dairy free thing on top of the gluten free thing really sucks). We went and saw X-Men. James McAvoy, why hello you charming man. You need to be in a million movies. Please?

I loved being with my Becca friend. Even though its been three years since we lived in the same apartment complex and bonded out of hatred for our roommates and a sincere love for the gym and attractive abs man, we are still friends. We still try and do things together. We try and stay in touch. That really means the world to me. Honestly, I wish things would work out like that more frequently.

I got asked out on two dates, by two different guys in the course of about two minutes. I exchanged sleepy small talk with one, and then a minute later, another had called. Alas, I had to turn one down, because I had plans with my Becca friend. But still. I am sure that is some kind of record.

Made me feel like a bit of a rock star. I won't lie.

These sorts of things just don't happen to me. Ever. How nice for me that it did.

I dunno. I still feel sorta sucker punched by a couple of events that happened today. But I still have my mantra running through my head like an army cadence. Now. I am exhausted and will retire to bed. I am so afraid of what my legs are going to be like tomorrow.

It was totally worth it though. All the pain. All the no air. Completely worth it for the gorgeous view and the feeling of accomplishment.

Seven. Like Unto Heaven...

2011-07-23T01:28:00.000-06:00

Today was a day. Same ole, same ole.

I cleaned some of my basement. I cleaned the things that have really been bothering me. I hope I'll finish it up tomorrow, but that isn't very likely. I now lack motivation. Today was my laundry day, and I traditionally get the most things done on that day of days where hygiene and fabric softener join together in a blissful companionship of love and joy. I like laundry. Its one of those necessary chores that doesn't require a whole lot of work...

I watched the Two Towers today. Which was hugely enjoyable. I generally avoid that movie (in a not serious way) because it is rather depressing. Also, Frodo tends to go off in trances and put everyone else into danger. Which makes for awkward movie watching, and some mocking. But only in the lovingest of ways.
But Samwise...I love you Sam. So much. If you were real, I was a hobbit/you were a human, and lived in this world, I would marry you.
Also. Legolas, you have some of the most bad-A moments in that movie. When you swoop onto that horse? Or snowboard down those stairs shooting arrows the entire time? Or how your hair remains perfect throughout the ENTIRE movie? Like seriously. Your super power is your hair. Own it. Care to give some of that to me? No? You mean I'm cursed with Aragorn like locks for the rest of my days? Blast.

Well, anyways.
The point.

There is nothing like hanging out with someone who wants you to be there. Honestly, when someone is excited to see you, or genuinely cares about you, hanging out with them is a joy. It makes you feel special and wonderful.

Hanging out with people who don't give a crap...not so much.

I know which type I prefer. I spent time with both today.

Here. Here is a little mantra that I've tried to have going through my mind recently.

"I am good, I am great. I am awesome. I am pretty. I am attractive. I am a good person. (musical deviation: I'm an attractive person. I am a TALENTED person! Grant me grace...) I am going to accomplish things. Do the things I set out to do. Nothing can stop me!"

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling down I watch this:

and if that doesn't make you smile, how about this:

Ok. GO! Be happy and free little birds! You are awesome! And hey! So am I!

Numero Six

2011-07-22T00:08:00.000-06:00

Today was a failure. I just want to go to bed. I give up.

I feel fantastic and then every now and again there is a day that I plunge into despair. Its a bit silly, and only perpetuated by sitting on my bed wallowing in self pity.

I suppose everyone has days like these.

It will be better tomorrow. I know this. Its just right now I feel trapped and weighed down by my thoughts.

I suppose it is the price I pay for being so invested in things. For caring so much. I don't do things by half. I've only rarely felt apathy in my life. I invest everything into certain things and people. I sometimes wish I didn't care so much. That I didn't want things so badly. That I wasn't so very attached to the things that let me down.

Argh.

Well. Here is a list of things that I liked about today. That weren't failures. That didn't let me down.

Jason was great. I like him lots. He tried to cheer me up. He made me smile. I can't even describe how that made me feel. The image of him with bright pink hair and glasses in an attempt to cheer me up, made my day.

Liesl. http://geewillacres.blogspot.com/2011/07/wizzum-teeth.html This just made me laugh. For a good while. Every single time I see the picture with "Liesl angry! Liesl smash!" with the children fleeing in terror, I giggle.

Jon. My dear dear friend Jon. I can't even explain what he means to me. Not in a romantic way, just in a 'he is one of my best friends and I love him' sort of way.

In my creepy internet blog stalking ways I found this quote. "We can retard our progress by characterizing ourselves, rise above that. Don't hold yourself back by viewing yourself in any other way than as a daughter (or son) of God, beloved by Him."

That resonated within me. I need to work on that.

I had my interview for ILP today. I think it went well. I felt like it went well. I am notoriously bad at judging these sorts of things though. I just want it so bad. Everything is turned in. I've got the application, character references, and interview done.

Its sorta scary. I've done everything I can. It is in. Now all there is to do is wait. For like two or three weeks.

Have I mentioned that I'm not very good at being patient? I just wanna know.

I watched a lot of Adam Lambert stuff. Like music videos and him being Fiyero on illegal recordings. Why is he gay? His beautiful genetics won't be passed on to anyone. This is cause for great sadness.

I also watched a TON of clips from BBC dramas. North and South. Northanger Abbey. Emma. Persuasion (HAH! That kiss. Gets me every time. Come on. You don't need to take nearly a minute to kiss the man. Why wasn't he taking any initiative anyways? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZp-_cbPLoU it starts at about 3:15. It makes me laugh every time.). Pride and Prejudice. Jane Eyre "Oh God forgive me, let no man meddle with me, I aim to keep her!" Toby Stephens you are so very attractive. Which makes you rather unsuited for the part of Mr. Rochester, but that is besides the point.

I suppose today wasn't a complete and utter failure.

I think I might try to avoid the internet tomorrow though. The internet doesn't get me out and about. I'm going to find people to socialize with tomorrow. People definitely help when I'm feeling blue.

Pentegram

2011-07-21T00:58:00.000-06:00

Ello friends.
So. Today. Today was a good day. I got my character references so that I can teach English in China. I got to talk to Brother Eggett and he said it was good to hear my voice.
I watched Lord of the Ring: The Fellowship of the Ring. Ah! That part where Sam follows Frodo! Ah! It gets me every single time! "I made a promise Mr. Frodo! A PROMISE!"
Oh Samwise. I love you.
I got to see Stadium Terrace friends, and play with a toy helicopter. Which was of the good.

I liked today.

I like me. Which is really the point.

I wish I could be a million different places though. With a million different people. All having a good time. There are far too many places to be. Far too many worthwhile people to be with. Alas. If only I were able to be in all the places I want to be.

I really want to go teach English in China fall 2012. I have an interview tomorrow. Wish me luck! Or tell me to break a leg or wish something horrific on me to confuse the little luck sprites.

Penultimate to Fifth Place

2011-07-19T23:16:00.000-06:00

My family is back.
They are BACK. Its so beautiful. Wonderful. We have fallen back into the familiar patterns and rhythms. We are continuing our way of life, almost as though there was no pause.
I went shopping with Marmee today. I got to talk to her and sample Costco fare. She bought me almond milk, which is the best thing that has ever happened to my belly. Ever. It has protein, vitamin D, fewer calories and calcium. Everything I need to be healthy, but without that pesky dairy thing. Stupid dairy.
I did Zumba. I've gotten to the point where I can do all the songs, and do them all out. I don't conserve any energy. I just go for it. I sweat a ton, but I am ABLE to do it. That is the thing. I don't need to stop or anything. My lungs and heart are strong. This is such a great thing, you don't even realize.
I got to wrestle with my brothers. I got to play with them and tease them and poke them and tickle them. I love them. I love watching Connoray and Sam interact. They are best friends and it shows. They could barely keep themselves contained. They kept wrestling (one of the primary forms of affection in my family) and playing off of each other. My Manda and I were laughing hysterically.
My friend invited me to go to Jump On It with him and a few other choir friends. He called me en route to my house. I was slightly panicked, because I had gotten home from zumba and showered but that was the extent of my energy devoted to hygiene. I looked a frizzy sort of mess. I raced to become somewhat presentable. I managed it though. I sat down and managed to squeeze in a few more minutes of laughter with my siblings. I showed off the front entryway floor. I'm very proud of my handiwork. I did a good job on that. Then we were off. As we departed into the night, I kept catching glimpses of pieces of my face in the passenger side door mirror. I decided I was pleased with my appearance. I like my mouth. I feel like I have nice lips, and a pleasant smile.
We got there a half an hour before it closed. The guy in charge decided we didn't have to pay. SCORE! As we left, it began to rain. As it began to pour down, we drove. I told him some more stories. He told me some of his. As we talked and I sat in my familiar place, I felt at peace. I wanted the drive to go on forever, so I could cling to that feeling.
But alas, all things must end.

It was a good day. I quite enjoyed it.

Tres

2011-07-19T00:27:00.000-06:00

Today was the day. The day when my parents came home. Along with Sam and Joey.

My sister and I spent the day cleaning the house. We finished up our super secret project (or rather...somewhat secret project).

We scraped off the old icky wallpaper. We filled in the holes. We texturized the walls. We painted them. I put in the new flooring. Anna and her husband came and helped with the carpentry stuff.

My mom didn't know about any of it. Or rather, she didn't technically know about any of it. After she noticed some purchases from Lowe's on my sister's account, she began to be suspicious.

My father knew about it. He was advising us on the project the entire time.

My grandmother funded us.

I like feeling like a good daughter. I love feeling like a good person.

I got to play games with my ward today. It was quite fun. I feel like I'm good at games with a little bit of strategy. I'm not excellent, but I do a good job.

That is pretty much today. Nothing super exciting.

But good.

Day Two

2011-07-17T22:25:00.000-06:00

Today was a good Sunday.

Church happened. I looked good. No really. I did. I wore my blue and white graduation dress, with my frilly brown shrug. I wore my gold brooch. I wore my pretty pearl and gold necklace. I wore my cute shoes that I got from THE garage sale for 75 cents.

I did my hair in a messy side bun and curled my already curly hair into a more appealing curl. I did my makeup in as pretty a way as possible.

My point is, I looked awesome. I should have taken a picture.

I got lots of compliments all day. It is so nice to get compliments when you've tried on your appearance.

I got to see a lot of really fantastic friends. From the 16th ward and the center ward. It was so nice. There is a sort of delightful feeling of coming to a place where people know you, and like you. The center ward was the first place where I attempted to be outgoing, succeeded, and people liked me for it. The 16th ward was more cozy and I was there off and on for two years, so I knew some of the people quite intimately.

I sat in relief society, and I was surrounded on all sides by people. 16th ward. LDC girls. Center ward. My sister. I smiled all through the lesson.

My sister and I made what we call Tex Mix last night. It was so delicious. We replaced kidney beans with black beans (which is obviously the superior bean. Black beans are the king of beans. I'm just saying) and added corn (which should always be in soupy things and semi mexican food). Our belly's were giddy with joy. We finished it off today. Mmmmm.

Liesl and I went up to the Squaw Peak overlook today.

It was gorgeous. Going up to the mountains and watching the storm clouds clear was glorious. It took my breath away and caused me to lose all ability to speak articulately. Or focus. Our conversation kept being punctuated by my oh so clever, "Its beautiful"

"I know"

"Its so pretty!"

Repeat about 30 times and you about have my stunning conversationalist skills.

I love light. I love watching it shift and alter the landscape. I feel like you can look down at Utah valley for hours and still be mesmerized by the scene.

These are some of the good things that have happened. Happy moments. Good feelings about myself.

How about you?

Day One

2011-07-17T02:08:00.000-06:00

I've decided something. For the next month, every single day, I am going to write down the things I did that are good. The good moments, the uplifting thoughts, the joyful things that I notice. I probably won't post all of them on my blog, but I'm going to try to get something up here every single day. Not everything will make it up here. I just want to end my days on a positive note. I want to recognize the good things that I do. It might be self serving, and perhaps no one wants to read me bragging about myself, but I don't care. This is what I am going to do. Celebrate my victories and my life.
I'm on the road to loving myself. Its a difficult course to travel, but I'm bound and determined to make it.

Today (and some from earlier this week):
I accomplished a ton. My super secret, incredibly awesome project is almost done. Its gonna be phenomenal. You don't even know. But you will. Soon. Pictures to come.
I went rock climbing yesterday. I have been so incredibly sore today. I was working in the yard and wincing in pain as my hands tried to do the things required. But there was a large measure of satisfaction mixed in with the wincing. Because I didn't give up on any of the walls. I made it to the top on every one that we tried. There were parts where I fell (never fear, I was strapped into a harness thing) and places where I wanted desperately to give up. But I made it. I feel like I've made progress in my life. So many times in my life, when things got demanding physically, I would give up, but no more. I am stronger than my body.
I love that my body is strong. My issues with my weight aside, I have a strong healthy body that does what I want it to. Especially since going off of dairy. I feel great.
I've only lapsed from the dairy free thing a few times. Only for a date, homemade zupa tuscana, and my excursion to Washington. HAH! I win...although I am sorely tempted by the orange dream bars that we have hidden in the bottom of the freezer.
I've been conquering things that have been haunting me. I've been busy. I've been doing things that make me happy. I have lots of wonderful friends. I have guy friends again.
I went on a polygadate. Which was entertaining and fun. I have two quite wonderful guy friends who paid for me to eat Cafe Rio and to go see Thor.
I went to Owl City concert with my friend Jon.
I was going through my texts to write the ones I want to remember in my journal, and many of them made me smile. A lot of them had good memories attached. Some of them made me laugh out loud (those ones were usually from Liesl...) One of my favorites, which has no meaning out of context is, "Yes, I was." There were some heart warming ones like, "Thank you. Erin, you are fantastic. :)" and "Love you"
I love that I have muscular thighs and calves that show muscle. I love that my waist is shrinking. I might not be losing weight, but its not for lack of doing the things I should be. I'm trying to accept my body. I'm getting there. It still freaks me out when people compliment me. I tend to freeze up. I don't believe them. I disclaim with reckless abandon. I still secretly hope that what they say is true and that they mean it.
One of the girls from LDC told me, "Erin, you have this fire. You don't always show it, but when you do...I just love it!"
Yesterday one of my friends told me, "I like that you're enthusiasm for things, and that you are adventurous."
That is all for tonight.
Peace!

Life may be a highway...but driving all night long would be painful...

2011-07-07T03:11:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I was in a car. That was what defined July 5th.
Car.
I left from my former roommate's mansion apartment at about 7:30 in the am and got to my parents comfy little home just before 1:00 (in the am). After more than 16 hours of car, I lumbered into my house in a somewhat drunken manner. As I abruptly remembered things I had forgotten, I stumbled as I would rush between my basement and the car, bobbing and weaving dangerously.
On the way to Washington I was uncomfortably perched on 2/3s of a seat next to two girls I had never met before, and will likely never meet again. On the return drive, I had the entire back seat to myself.
The air was rushing loudly in an attempt to reach the back. The music was at a high volume. When Amanda and Katie would speak I could only hear vague murmurings, and see the movement of their mouths. I was nearly ostracized from the front.
I was able to lay down in a semi comfortable position. The seat belt jabbed itself into my ribs, and my legs were at a permanent 90 degree angle. I was able to sleep and dream uncomfortable dreams of filling out applications.
Twelve and a half hours of car.
I read my book restlessly, jumping from page to page, rereading my favorite parts, completely incapable of concentrating.
I wrote down some highlights from the trip, smiling at them fondly then turning and looking out the window, unable to focus.
I made up stories in my head, staged fantastic scenarios, and designed flattering costumes.

Then at nine I began the final drive home. Alone.
Home. The word fell from my lips and was replaced with a smile.
Home. The images of family and friends. My lovely bed.

I probably shouldn't have done it. But I had agreed to work today to get trained on a new program. I craved home.

The final four(ish...perhaps I drove faster than legally allowed. Perhaps...) hours were interesting. It involved singing at the top of my lungs, the occasional scream, opening the windows as I rushed down the freeway at 90 mph (...which only happened a couple of times...), and several loud conversations with myself.

Perhaps I'm not as mentally stable as I pretend. But that is neither here nor there.

Time for thoughts and figuring out my brain.
I know what I want.
My brain was caught up in arguments. Organizing.

It was sort of beautiful as the things that I've been dwelling on clicked into place. I had several epiphanies. There were a couple decisions that were made.
There were a few ideas that were actualized into thoughts and it was rather beautiful.

Being alone with your thoughts for a day with no reprieve is frightening. It strips away excuses. You have to focus, because there is nowhere else to go. There is only the option of delving into the landscape of the mind. It is bleak and terrifying. Its hilarious. It creates sense where none was to be had. It helps focus on things that need to be pinpointed and identified.

As helpful and interesting as traversing through my mind's eye was, this was an occurrence that will not be oft repeated. It hurts to have your soul rubbed raw and to be exposed to yourself with none of the buffers. It was personal. Intense. Painful. Joyful.

Completely mine.

The Storm Within

2011-06-30T09:54:00.000-06:00

Today, as I was driving home, the clouds began to thicken. The wind began to twirl cotton and flowers in a tempestuous concoction. I rolled the windows all the way down and breathed in the heavenly scent of storm. Fat droplets began to ponderously thump onto my little silver car, as the storm finally caught up to me.

As the moisture and humidity increased, tendrils of my hair began to slowly snake their way into curls.

My professional and immaculate appearance--so rarely seen--rapidly degenerated into a mess. As my hair began to wriggle its way to life, my shirt and cardigan became more rumpled. My skirt seemed several inches shorter. I kicked off my uncomfortably attractive shoes and continued the drive home.

As I weaved up Carterville Road, it was almost as though I had entered a different world. The tall trees seemed older. The buildings seemed fey. The grey green swirl of clouds called to me.

I was enchanted. It was as though I had stepped (or drove) into a fairy ring.

The wind and rain rushed through my car, blowing bits of paper and other nonsense every which way in a loud rush.

I breathed in the smell.

I felt whole. Alive. Real.

What is it about summer storms that bring calm and chaos to my soul? They complete that little bit of me. The piece that still believes in magic and fairies. The splinter that still hopes beyond hope that something magical will occur...

Reasons to Smile

2011-06-29T00:01:00.000-06:00

I feel like I've been semi depressing with my blog recently. This seems to be my place to go when I'm feeling rotten. I've tried to curtail that, but it doesn't always work. Honestly I'm quite happy. The only real blemish in my life right now is the lack of job. I do have an interview tomorrow though.

Things that make me smile:

Hiking: I love it. There is something about tromping through the wilderness that fills an empty space inside of me. Its lovely to see the beauty of Heavenly Father's earth. It is away from everything and only the brave venture forth. Perhaps that is an exaggeration, but it makes me feel like I'm embarking on a great adventure. Those travelling with me are a part of The Fellowship. Hiking makes my life.

Iron Chef: It is incredibly addicting. Watching it is so much fun. The foods that I've never heard of, the cuisine I would love to eat, the excitement as they finish the dish. Don't question. Its perfect for the person like me who has made the recent decision to refuse to get addicted to TV shows. I don't HAVE to watch it, but I certainly enjoy it.

He Is We: They are my current favorite band. I wish I could express how fantastic they are. How amazing they are live.

Cafe Rio: I LOVE Cafe Rio. Just looking at the food makes me happy. Ingesting it...even better. Mmmmmm. Joy in my belly. If you ever want to win my affection, buy me Cafe Rio. If you ever want to cheer me up, Cafe Rio. If you ever want to see me skipping around and acting like a giddy child, Cafe Rio.
I'm just saying.
I ate Cafe Rio with a very good choir friend of mine. It made my day.

I like living at home. Even though sometimes it drives me crazy, I really do like it. I love my family. I love being with my siblings, who understand me far more than anyone else. I love not having to wear a mask and fearing retribution from roommates.

I love the food. Even though that has been somewhat curbed since my parents have departed for Hill Cumorah. Half the family there, half the family here. We're going to go shopping tomorrow. I'm going to get some Thai ingredients and make my favorite soup. Mmmmmm. Thai soup. Yumminess and joy with every bite.

I love spending time with my sister. She is pretty much my soul mate. We've been running. We've made stuff together. We have hilarious good times together. She also doesn't care if we are spending time together and I am silent. I find that is the mark of a good companion. I like to be pensive and silent at times. I like it when people don't feel a need to fill the silence.

Life is lovely. I promise. I'm happy. Joyful at times. Life is good.

Inventory

2011-06-27T00:48:00.000-06:00

I've been feeling wistful. Not longing, not unhappily envious. Just wistful. I suppose there is a dollop of wishful thinking mixed in as well.

I wish I had done so many things differently in the past year. It isn't really regretful, just, "Hey. If I had followed through on that, things would be really easy now."

I feel like I need to assure everyone that I am fine and add on a disclaimer to this. I will do that. I'm not cursing myself for my stupidity. I'm not saying that everything could be completely different. I'm saying that I'm "having or showing a feeling of vague or regretful longing." I had a really fantastic year filled with people that I loved and adored. I had so much fun throughout it. I really am ok. I promise.

I'd be in the same situations. I'd be in the same place.

I just wouldn't have the same feeling.

The last school year was hard. It took its toll on my mental and emotional well being. I felt, "Thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread"

To give you a way to measure how I was feeling near the end: at times I was even bitter towards LDC for taking so much of my life and energy.

I love LDC. Now that its gone, the very thought of not having it next year causes me to tear up. I'm feeling wistful about how I felt. That was the place that made me become a better person. There is a gaping hole in my chest where it isn't going to be anymore.

The no LDC next year is the right decision. It still hurts though. I really wish I had a better attitude towards all the LDC things and towards a couple of the people. I wish I could have done more.

Something else I am wistful about is the man situation. I wish I hadn't wasted all that energy. For nothing. Me putting myself out there time and again. For nothing besides heartache.

I'm glad I got to have all those experiences though. Even though nothing came of any of them.

I found a fantastic talent from all of it. I like a guy and he will start dating someone else.

Three times in three months that happened. I can assure you, I have mad skills.

I wonder if there is some way that I could market that.

I just feel sort of vaguely regretful about how certain events and situations transpired. Ah well.

I wish I hadn't given up on some of my classes. I wish I had powered through. Which is mostly me looking back on the past and going, "Gosh. What was so hard? Be a man. Rub some dirt in it!"

In actuality, I'm surprised that I got decent grades in any of my classes. I was so stressed and tired all the time. I just sort of wish I had done more.

But its over. Its in the past. I had a really good summer semester. I had a lovely break. Now I'm searching for a job. Life is good.

I just sort of have this vague lingering feeling of regretful feeling of longing...

But this to shall pass. Life is hard for everyone. I'm no exception. Everyone has regrets. Everyone looks back and goes, "What if?"

This is just my little moment to wallow before moving on.

I'm focusing on the future though. The future is bright, exciting, and wonderful.

I went on a hike on Saturday. I'm (hopefully) going on another hike tomorrow with a high school friend. My Manda and I will be running. Hopefully there won't be as much puking (the remnants of the typhoid she contracted while in Guatemala). I have an interview on Wednesday (although if ANYONE has any job leads for me, they would be greatly appreciated).

Silence is not golden

2011-06-22T00:37:00.000-06:00

I wish I was eloquent. I wish I had the words to make a winning argument. I wish that I could weave words together in such a way that I would forever have friends.
I wish that I had a more dominant personality type. I wish I could take command of a situation. I wish that I had power.
I am always terrified. I never know how to breach a subject. I never know how to say something or communicate my meaning.
I thought that back in October I had conquered my fears. That because I had taken control and faced my problems, I would forever have that ability.
But I don't. It was a great triumph, but ultimately fleeting.
I'm still terrified.
I still have that seemingly insurmountable obstacle.
Opening my mouth.
Letting words flow. Unafraid. Unashamed. Uncaring of the repercussions.

In my life, I've learned that saying what you really think doesn't win friends and influence people. It momentarily gives you that triumphant high, but alas, you are soon plunged low into the effects. The fall back of saying terrible things, even if they are "true" and "need to be said" is not a road that should be oft traveled.

But because I frequently choose silence, that very quiet shield prevents me from saying the things that really do need to be said. That need to be talked about and discussed. In the past few months, so many things should have been talked of. But weren't. Instead, I experienced the frustration and anger of silence. It is not a quiet silence, because there is no way to hush the flow of words inside of my head. There was no way to render my inner monologue speechless. So I live with the inner torment of seeds of words that should be alive and flowering.

How do people do it? How does a person enter a conversation and speak the things that need to be said? How do they segue? I think things through. My wit is not particularly quick. As a result, things are not spoken. Too frequently, anger prevents me from opening my mouth, and I continue clenching my jaw shut.

Words are there. Ready to bubble forth.
I remain silent.
Too often I remain silent.
No more. I have too many regrets. Too many things have remained inside that should have come out.
I'm tired of living in fear. This seems to be something that I keep returning. Perhaps I should resume the ritual of doing one brave thing a day.

Word Vomit

2011-06-14T11:48:00.000-06:00

Reading Day. More like, "We're going to give you the illusion that you're going to get something done today, when in reality, you're not going to accomplish ANYTHING!!!!!"
Because there is nothing. No places to be, no pressing deadlines. All my homework was turned in yesterday. I should be memorizing the Urea Cycle, yet here I am wasting my time with facebook, checking blogs, and writing a blog.
Silly me.
Although I am working on applying for jobs. Why is it so difficult to apply for jobs? Not the turning them in, the actual filling them out portion? Gosh. I hates it. I really hate remembering, "Oh yeah. I worked for this place. It sucked. Oh yeah, I worked there. I left because it made me want to dig my eyes out with a spoon. Oh remember that big giant gap where I didn't have a job for over a year? That one? Yeah. I couldn't get anyone to hire me. Good times."
I'd much rather be doing anything other than studying. I'd much rather be anywhere besides my apartment that is getting gutted. New cupboards! Its so exciting! I'm moving out on Friday!
Why are they doing this finals week? They couldn't have put this off for four more days when I will no longer be living here?
I feel like there is all manner of things I should be doing to prepare for moving home. Packing. Gathering my belongings. Maybe having my mom come and take a load of stuff home so on Friday I'm not burdened with panic and freaking out at the sheer amount of stuff I have. I always think that I don't have that much, but then I move and go, "Oh wow. I have a ton of stuff. Who knew? It all fit into all the places it was supposed to go so well. But it doesn't all fit into this car like it should."
I also feel like I should start making the rounds. Saying goodbye to all the people that I've become friends with over the past year. But I'm going to see them again. I'm moving back at the end of August. It isn't forever. Well. For the people moving at the end of the summer it will be forever. Or maybe I'll see them again in the distance, shout their name, and be super excited to see them. Then they'll look at me as though I just crawled from under a rock and say, "Oh...hey. How are you?" as they walk away looking uncomfortable and vaguely disgusted. These sorts of things happen to me all the time. Apparently the friendships I think I have aren't as cool or enduring as I thought they were.
*sigh*
Why does finals week always suck? Always? It seems as though everything waits to jump on you during finals week. It is slowly stalking you throughout the semester, and then once finals week hits it decides to pounce like a jaguar in some South American jungle. So there you are with all this stuff like girl drama, conflicting feelings, friends getting back from missions, family gatherings where inevitably I want to hurt someone (strangely enough it is the same someone every single time...huh. Crazy), and the desperate feeling that things are going to change and I really don't think I'm emotionally capable of handling change right now, and I really don't want to go face my old ward because I left some things in a mess there and now I have to go clean it up and do damage control for the next two months. All while trying to study for tests and getting ready to move.

And I think chocolate gives me a headache.

I feel like my body is rebelling against me. "You love this? HAH! Well you can't have it anymore! SUCKA!"
Gluten. Dairy. Now chocolate? Is nothing sacred? Am I never going to eat anything good ever again? Why does my body suck? Why can that girl in chemistry come to class and every single day eat ice cream or candy and drink a large plastic bottle of soda and still be thinner than me?
I hope she gets diabetes.

Not really.

Mostly.

Well. Here are some good things:
I am going to live rent free and have my mommy make me food for the next two months.
I get to live with my sister, who is probably the coolest person ever.
I'm going to have access to a car again.
My friend gets back from his mission this week. I think. I should probably check that. But if not this week then next. SQUEE!
Tomatoes are growing. Soon they will be my main form of nutrition. I'm so excited. I wonder if I eat enough if I'll turn red. Or orange. I feel like this is something that we should definitely experiment with. There is nothing better than fresh warm homegrown tomatoes with salt. NOTHING!
I get to read books next week. BOOKS. I'm so excited. You don't even know. I think I'm going to devote next week to reading books by Diana Wynne Jones. In honor of her memory, I will read: Fire and Hemlock, Dogsbody, The Lives of Christopher Chant, The Homeward Bounders, Archer's Goon, The Dalemark Quartete (MITT! AH! I LOVE HIM!), Howl's Moving Castle, and whatever else I can get my hands on. Hello Provo/Orem Public Library. We shall once again be very well acquainted. I have you for the next two months. In whatever time we have, it will be beautiful.

Some of my crazy dietary habits...

2011-06-09T16:25:00.000-06:00

I had a very difficult time transitioning to being gluten free. I was diagnosed with celiac when I was 14. It took me something like six years to acclimate to that transition. There was a surplus of cheating. So many stomachaches and general misery.

Last summer, at Hill Cumorah Pageant, I went back on gluten for the month.

There weren't really stomach problems. I was very surprised. I thought I had got off scott free. But then lethargy got me. I think that is the worst part. The cobwebs in my head that make every day living so difficult. I was so tired. I will never do anything like that ever again.

I'm pretty sure that being gluten free has damaged my psyche and given me a very unhealthy relationship with food. I overcompensate by eating far more than I should when I have the opportunity to. I'm working on it.

Here I am. Doing something I never thought I would do. This shows the levels to which I have descended and the desperation to which I have been subjugated.

I have gone dairy free.

So far, I've experienced an increase in energy, no stomach problems, happiness, and cheer.

Dang it.

I pretty sure that means that dairy was the problem. Please join with me in my entreaty to the heavens, "Please don't let it be the casein, please don't let it be the casein, please don't let it be the casein. Please let it be the lactose. LACTOSE! I BEG OF YOU!!!!!!!!"

If its lactose, there is Lactaid. There is a solution to the problem. A fix.

If it is casein...there is no joy.

Casein is a molecule that is remarkably similar to gluten in its structure. It is found in milk. Some who have celiac are also susceptible to this molecule's wicked ways.

No way to fix it if it is casein.

I've also experienced my leg aches like nothing I've had in two years. I wonder what the relationship is? But I really wish they would go away. It interferes with my sleeping. Well, good thing I have all that surplus energy.

Speaking of the surplus energy, if you see me jumping around more than usual, this is the reason why. I keep getting these random bursts of energy and I have been overdramatically react to situations and people.

I am one of those people that believes that our diet has more of an impact on our emotions and internal problems than I think most of the world wants to believe. Seeing the impact that my diet has had on me and my emotional well being might bias me.

Perhaps it isn't as simple for other people who don't have genetic diseases that tear apart their intestines.

But, I dunno. I'm just a college going girl that has noticed far more cheer in my life when I eat healthy.

I'm just saying.

Oh What a Beautiful Morning

2011-06-05T09:35:00.000-06:00

I have insomnia. Which means that I have issues getting to sleep, and then problems sleeping for more than seven hours at a time. Seven hours of sleep is beautiful. All you people out there that get the recommended eight or nine hours every single night, I am exceedingly jealous. I average six hours. I can't sleep in past ten (and I can only make it to that point if I stay up until three or four in the morning). I don't think I've slept in until noon since I was fourteen.

But the flip side of all the not sleeping is I get mornings. There is something about mornings. Waking up and everything is still. The sun is pale in the eastern sky. The air is still fresh and cool from the night.

I love living at home and walking down Palisade Drive early in the morning. The air from the canyon, as it changes from cold to warm, whooshes down that street and smells of fresh growing things. I love the scent of fresh mountain air. It cannot be bottled. It is a glorious beautiful thing.

Mornings are quiet. No one else is awake, they are all muddled in their dreams and tangled in their blankets. There isn't a need to speak. There are only quiet pensive thoughts. Mountains that are shadowed and lit with clear morning light. Quiet contemplation and glorying in God's beautiful earth.

Until the silence is shattered by a roommates cheerful and tinny alarm, alerting them to the rest of the world. Until slowly, everyone begins to wake up. Then comes the hustle, bustle, and the noise of living.

Mornings give me those moments to myself to remember who I am. Mornings restore the calm and give me a chance to breathe before the rest of the day happens.

Memory Lane

2011-05-24T19:49:00.000-06:00

Today, as I was walking towards my apartment, I was caught up in a most enjoyable memory.

Back when I was up at BYU-Idaho, I had some of the best roommates. We laughed all the time and sat in Kate and Amanda's room until we nearly cried from the convulsions that resulted from the perpetual hysteria. There were six of us. Chelsey, Amanda, Kate, Kathleen, and Victoria.

Near the end of the semester, after Thanksgiving Break, Chelsey had gotten herself a boyfriend.

Cue the immaturity.

One night, Chelsey was on a date. Kathleen dashed into my room, clutching the door, and said, "Chelsey's outside with her boyfriend!"

I started to smile.

Deviously, we snuck into the living room, whispering our plan of attack.

In this apartment, there were blinds. They were the horizontal kind that you pull on a string, and they shift open. You can continue pulling that string and they will shut.

They looked something like this:

Kathleen and I climbed onto the couch. We hunched down, so that only our eyes and foreheads were above the edge, delighting in our unabashed silliness. There were some muffled giggles as we attempted to be stealthy. The feeling of naughtiness was overpoweringly delightful.

I grabbed the cord. I slowly started to open them.

I was greeted by a pair of the most furious green eyes. They penetrated my soul, and for a moment my life flashed before my eyes. Chelsey has the largest and most expressive eyes of anyone I have ever seen. Her face is like an open book. She has the fiercest glare of anyone I have ever met. Just try to withstand that gaze, and you will become nothing more than a pile of ashes.
I just kept pulling on the cord, until the blinds were once again shut.

Then, Kathleen and I, ran for our lives. Laughing partly from hilarity. Partly from fear.

Of course we snapped the lock shut on the door before booking it to the back. We had to stall the beast somehow.

Unfortunately we had nowhere really to hide. The logical thought would be to lock ourselves in the bathroom, until the storm had passed. Unfortunately, fear was guiding our judgement.

So we ran into Kate and Amanda's room. They were sitting on their bed's, quietly doing their homework, like the good little girls they are. They looked up in surprise at our panicked entry.

"What?--" asked Kate.

We didn't respond. We just ran into their closet and hid.

They laughed. We were giggling.

Then we heard thumping, as Chelsey stomped down the hall.

Our giggles ceased.

"HELL HATH NO FURY, ERIN WRIGHT! HELL HATH NO FURY!" (can I just interject here to comment on the unfairness of her assumption that it was all my doing? Where is the trust? Where is the love? What the paranoid?)

This, of course, was designed to bring us out. We managed to withstand the temptation to give away our position.

She ripped open the closet door, and said, "You think I couldn't hear you guys WHISPERING?! OH, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY!!!!"

Then we just started laughing hysterically.

Chelsey began to laugh.

"You can't kill me if you're laughing!"

I laughed as I was walking home. I'm sure the passerbys were convinced of my less than stable sanity. But it was quite lovely. It's one of those memories that, strange as it seems, keeps my soul warm as I travel.

In the Quiet Misty Morning...There Was a Blind Howl of Rage.

2011-05-21T08:52:00.000-06:00

I woke up this morning. Not with my usual sleepy acknowledgement of the sun. Not a bleary moment between sleep and awake. Not a slow peaceful rising to consciousness that easily makes the ability to sleep in (such as my insomnia permits) on Saturdays one of the best things about the weekend.

Today I awoke with an abrupt and rageful, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!!!!!!!!!!"

Nothing but red and murder was on my mind.

About seven or eight feet above me, someone directly above me was hammering. I had been able to ignore the thumpings and the bangings for a half an hour or so. Living with siblings had bestowed me with the lovely ability to sleep through some things. Like screaming.

But a loud staccato repetitive hammer, that made my head feel like it was being banged against a wall? A hammer with a human man behind it, who was shifting and adjusting his weight? The loud scraping of whatever it was they were nailing into the ceiling?

Soon followed by drills?

I woke up, nearly screaming at them. I knew they would be able to hear me. I could hear their dull muffled voices. My sharp high pitched scream, strengthened by years of theatre and musical coaching, would definitely reach their ears.

I almost marched outside to the ladder, climbed up it, took one of those cursed hammers, and buried it in one of their skulls. I could sleep on the way to the police station. My unconcious mind was all gung ho about the idea. Ready to cause them pain and damage.

I made it to the living room before collapsing on the floor, aware of my conscious minds inability to murder someone. Or even seriously maim them. As my red rimmed eyes blinked rapidly, and my morning hair curled and snaked around my face, I lay there. Contemplating life, and how easily it is extinguished. I almost burst into tears, my head pounding with each knock. My less than coherent mind was rapidly coming up with some illogical, and very terrible, thoughts.

Even now the loud noises continue. Even now the people on the roof continue their torturous work.

I am considering writing a strongly worded letter to the management, telling them of their intense stupidity for hiring construction workers to come and work at 7:30 on a SATURDAY MORNING at an young single adult apartment complex. I'm would love to string together many words, verbally damaging their obviously decroded frontal lobe that affected their decision making skills. I'm sure I could throw in some insulting of their spouses choice in such an obviously brain damaged human being. Probably some lamentations that someone would want to pass on those terrible decision making genes that wouldn't insure a long and healthy life.

I probably won't.

But if this continues for much longer...who knows what I might do.

On Writing...

2011-05-21T01:11:00.000-06:00

Somedays, writing is as easy as breathing, words and phrases fall forth onto the page. Writing fills the empty spaces, the void becomes less. Writing changes the ways that I think. It makes things feel normal. It organizes my thoughts and my mind. Writing brings out the thoughts that I had, but never managed to put into words.

Writing is beautiful.

Other times writing is difficult for the very reasons that it makes me feel complete. It opens up the ideas, that are perhaps better locked up. Its hard to explore thoughts and ideas. Its hard to traverse the landscape of the mind.

Recently my writing has taken on an anxious tone. My writing has revealed a level of fear, that scares me more than the things that I am afraid of.

Writing reveals to me bits and pieces of myself. Things I don't particularly like. Things about myself that I wholeheartedly wish weren't there. However, I have to write them, or be dishonest to myself. I have to be honest with myself, or else I feel incomplete and betrayed. There isn't much worse in this world than betraying yourself.

I'm going to change things. I am going to be braver. Stronger. Less afraid. Less anxious.

Of course it won't change right away. But now that I am aware of it, I can change it. Take steps to become the person I want to be.

Someday, I hope my writing reveals to me that I have become the person I wish I was. I hope I can sit down and scribble down something that makes me sit back and think, "Goodness. I'm me. How lucky I am."

As I peel back the layers of who I am, to who I hope to be, I want to come to understand more about who I am and what I can be. I want to see the process.

What better way than through writing?

A Brief Description of the Events of the Past Week or So (Yes. This is the brief version...)

2011-05-09T16:43:00.000-06:00

Since last Friday, I have been going, going, going. LDC stuff had pretty much captured my world and crammed it into a box with 65 other people.
Friday: Pretty much all day at the Conference Center. I came up late with Lauren and we got there just in time to watch the engagement of Lindsay. We were there until late.
Saturday: All day at the Conference Center. Matinee at 2:00. Another show at 7:30.
Sunday: Tour kick off. Splitting into our groups. I became sick on this day.
Monday: Timp View Seminary. Fun fun fun. I managed to sneak a ride to BYU and turn in a homework assignment. Go me. Then we went to a park. I took a nap. Then there was the not-institute-or-LDC-sanctioned LDC home evening. We made s'mores and ate lots of junk.
Tuesday: I went to class until 2:00 then met up with LDC. We went to Brother Eggetts old stake and performed our show. Which was fantastic. Very sad feelings about my last show. I also coughed through the entire first number. Why yes, I did feel like an idiot. But I finished strong. It was a wonderful show.
Wednesday: Provo High Seminary. Then we went and sang at old folks homes. I was unable to sing for some of that. Then we had our academy awards night where we watched all the tour videos. Which were hilarious. However, I might have been better able to appreciate them, had I the ability to speak. I lost my voice that night. It was terrible. Joanna gave me a ride home. She then gave me tea, emergen-C, and cough drops. I am eternally grateful. Swallowing was excruciating. I am not a fan of pain.
Thursday: I got up about every hour. I don't know how much sleep I got. I only know it was not enough. I went to my classes. I sat in a haze of misery as I tried to absorb things that I would need for my tests. Then I made the executive decision to just go to my apartment and sleep. I woke up at 6:14 pm and knew that I was going to go to the institute for the family and friends night. I am so glad I was able to go. I got to say goodbye to Brianna before she left for Nauvoo. I got to sing with LDC in an official performance capacity one last time. The spirit was so strong. I love LDC.
Friday: I went to bed the night before, trying to find out when the humanitarian group was going to SLC (I wanted to be in Temple group, but alas. My temple recommend got lost in the move. Bitter? At the time, yes. Fixing it tomorrow though). I woke up and tried to get a hold of someone who could tell me when I was supposed to meet. Found out it was six minutes ago. Found a ride to the institute (thanks Daddy!) and we traversed up. It was so fun. We went to the Deseret transportation. We got to go through the (soon to be demolished) storage building and helped them to move boxes. We got hats and apples. It was great.
We went up to temple square. Wandered around. I behaved like a child around the flowers. I love flowers. So so so much. I'm so excited to take Field Botany.
We ate lunch, and then headed off to see the (new) Joseph Smith movie. It was very different and I only caught a slight glimpse of my father.
We climbed to the top of Ensign Peak. Which was incredible. I need to get in better shape, though I probably could have handled it better if I wasn't sick...
Then we went and threw a surprise party for Brother Eggett to congratulate him on his doctorate. Go Brother Eggett!!!!!
Then I went home. I told a very silly story about my dear friend, Ann. Something about a leprechaun, a unicorn and a dragon. Then I went to my apartment. I vegged.
Saturday: I went to the library to study for my test.
Hey guys. Guess what? The Testing Center has different hours for Spring/Summer. I should have guessed. But I didn't. So...I missed my test. After emailing my teacher in a panic and groveling, my friend called me and asked if I needed to return my music to the institute still.
I did.
So he picked me up. After I told him about my rotten day, I found out that the institute was closed. But we went and got lunch at Cafe Rio instead. Then he gave me a guitar lesson.
Then I went on a fun crazy adventure which involved me trying to get a corsage for my mother for Mother's day. After a headache and a semi hysterical moment, I inadvertently found the place, and got free chocolate.
Also a very pretty corsage.
I love flowers.
Then I went on a walk and rescued a poor lost Korean girl. I showed her the way to Glenwood and she gave me blueberries.
Sunday: I went to church. I thought I had allergies. I took an allergy pill. Which did not work. Which leads me to believe not allergies. Which means still sick. But moreso than before, because now my nose is running. I had dinner at my families. Which was really fun. I also got pie. Mmmmmm. Pie. Waiting in my fridge for me to eat for dinner. I mean...dessert...
Today: There is this funny thing about being sick. The only thing that really makes you feel better is water. But when you drink a lot of water you have to go to the bathroom. All the time.
So me waking up every hour or so to drink was great. Except for about half an hour later I had to wake up to go to the bathroom.
Can I just say that gargling with salt water is the best thing to ever happen to my throat?
But I took my test. My professor was very kind. I'm pretty sure its in the B to A- range. Go me.

So that is my past week. Hectic, crazy, unable to recover from being sick, insanely fun week.

Aren't you glad I made it?

High On the Mountain Top...

2011-05-07T23:37:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, as one last (official) LDC event, my choir climbed to the top of Ensign Peak.

Brother Eggett gave us a goodbye speech.

He explained to us the significance of the location. How when Brigham Young had gotten to the top of that hill he had seen exactly what he wanted the valley to look like. He had even made specifications on the road widths. They needed to be wide enough that a horse drawn carriage could turn completely around. They had to be completely straight. Everything would be built around the temple.

Then they climbed down from Ensign Peak and got to work.
They built the roads completely straight. They did all the could to meet the specifications. When they needed to see how they were doing, they would go back up to that peak and see what they needed to fix. What would make each project better.

Brother Eggett then made the relation to our lives. We have to see where we are going. What we are going to build. How we are going to live our subsequent lives. However, we have to go down and build with our sweat, blood, and tears. Then, when we were confused, or couldn't see the vision anymore, we had to go back to a place where we could see things clearly once again. Its easy to see the vision, but creating the reality is what is difficult. We have to go back and look at everything every now and again to see where we have erred or what is left to be done.

He told us not to leave until we had a plan. We had to plan big, and plan how to accomplish this.

I looked at the beautiful valley below. The roads stretched as far as the eye could see. The temple was beautiful and stood out about everything else.

I couldn't find my vision.

I was so surprised.

I know I want to be a biology teacher. All the other things...I don't know. There are so many different choices. I don't know what I want my future to be. I'm almost afraid. I don't have a vision. I don't know what I want. I have so many options.

But LDC is no longer in my immediate future. There is a mix of relief and pain. Grasping at the possibilities of doing it again. Tears. The desire to throw a temper tantrum.

I am going to figure out my vision. I'm going to find out what I want to be. I'm going to go on trying my hardest to be a quality person. I've already started to create a "Quality Check" list that I'm going to hang over my bed. I suppose for now, my goal is to become a better person. The kind of person I would be glad to be.

I know that the church is true. I'm so glad it is. I'm going to continue to progress and become better. I'm never going to forget LDC and the beautiful times that I have had.

It will continue to have a special place in my heart (it hasn't been completely ripped out), and the experiences I've had will continue to have an impact on me. It won't easily be forgotten.

My plan is to continue to progress. My plan is to continue trying to be quality. My plan is to be a finisher. My plan is to try to help others. My plan is to find my vision.

I'm going to miss LDC. But I will be alright. Even though right now it feels devastating. I'm going to find new friends a new life. It will be exciting and new.

Will I?

2011-05-01T09:43:00.000-06:00

I am madly in love with So You Think You Can Dance.
I am in love with music. I love dance. I love the raw emotion and power that all of the arts express.

This dance, entitled, "Rejection" struck a powerful chord with me.

Who hasn't been the person reaching out desperately grasping, and hoping for someone to clasp their hands? Only to be met with an angry hand or painful rejection. Only to collapse to the ground. Alone. Rejected.

Who hasn't been the person who shoved someone else to the ground? Who hasn't been so racked with pain that they angrily push another hurting soul downward.

Even when we meet someone who can hold us up, who doesn't run, they eventually leave us lost and alone. More broken than before.

Until there we are. Free falling into space. Reaching out for something or someone to break the plunge.

Always alone. Surrounded by others who are also in incredible amounts of pain.

We are all hypocrites. At one time we will be the one reaching.

Another time, we will be the one crushed. Recoiling in pain.

Again the same time, we will be the ones rejecting.

Hurting.

Be the one to reach out for someone who is lying on the floor sobbing in pain. Be the one to lift someone who is in desperate need of it. Be the one to care. Instead of pain, give love. Instead of heartache and mistakes, try and bring joy and laughter. Don't briefly hold them, then send them reeling. Continue to care. Be there.

Be the caregiver.

Light the way. Break the vicious cycle. Your actions do have an effect.

Just because you are screaming in pain does not mean that someone else is not.

Remember to be the one who cares. We cannot change the world. It is a rare and special person that effects the world at large. For most of us, we will live our lives in anonymity and silence. It is a harsh, scary, truth. The only thing that we can change is ourselves. The only thing that we can control is our actions.

Which is somehow just as frightening and brutally unreassuring.

Make a most jubilant song

2011-04-28T00:15:00.000-06:00

Things that make me happy:
Sunshine. Even when its cold outside, sunshine inevitably makes me smile.
Dancing. I am a terrible dancer. But I love twirling and spinning and leaping and jumping...I'm probably the upstairs neighbor that everyone hates. But it is so much fun!
"Ab work outs" that quickly degenerate into rolling on the floor laughing.
Random texts from people I haven't heard from in a while.
Cute boy that I sat next to yesterday in chemistry, came and sat by me again today. He was sitting, we saw each other, waved at each other, and he got up and came to sit next to me. Made me feel good about myself.
Going on long walks.
Looking at all the flowers at this time of year. They are blooming and glorious. Go outside and see.
The light at sunset. Its so golden and glorious.
Thunder storms.
Watching the clouds roll in from the mountains.
Outside is a viable option. I love it. Outside. Where there is air. The sky is gloriously bright and blue. The clouds are white and puffy. The world is alive again.

On that note, goodnight my darlings. Think of the lovely things of the world and go out and enjoy them.

Just do it.

Exquisite Loveliness

2011-04-25T10:30:00.000-06:00

The Mountain from Terje Sorgjerd on Vimeo.

This is so beautiful. It makes my breath catch and I have to stop and wonder at the beauty of the earth.

He Is We

2011-04-21T11:41:00.001-06:00

I found the theme song for my life.
Love Life by He Is We
I've been completely obsessed with He Is We for the past semester.
OBSESSED.
I don't think there is a song of theirs that I don't like.

But Love Life...its my theme song.

Its the peppiest saddest song I've ever heard.

I'm not being down on myself. I'm just saying...I listened to this song yesterday and went, "Woah. Its my life. In a nutshell. I think I'll listen to it about a million times."

Hey, its better than the emo stuff I was listening to before. Don't get me wrong, I love the emo stuff I was listening to.
Like Flyleaf (which is awesome), or Ohio is for Lovers (Which is about as screamo as I go). Or Within Temptations really angry stuff. Oh yeah. I live on the edge.
Fantastic stuff. But it wasn't really helping my mood.
This song helps.

Changing the Way I Think

2011-04-20T08:59:00.000-06:00

People tell me that I'm wonderful, and I don't believe them. I can't believe them. I'm not as fantastic as all the other people in the world. There are so many people who are better than I. Why on earth would they think I'm great?
Why is it so hard to believe them?
In the beginning there is that automatic denial, "No, no, I'm not that great. Whatever, you're silly."
That automatic denial is strong. It overrides everything else. We see all the things that we've done in the past that prove that we aren't worthy of being well thought of. We see all our flaws.
Perhaps there is something down deep inside the recesses of your thoracic cavity that says, "Wait! I am wonderful! This is great, someone noticed!" But of course your brain shuts down those thoughts immediately. The brain cannot allow that sort of thinking.
"Your thoughts determine your actions. Every time you fire off a series of electrons your brain rewrites pathways to optimize those lines of thought," said a very dear friend to me last night.
Every time we think those sorts of things, our brains go down the same pathway, and each time it gets easier to think the same self deprecating diatribe.
"I'm not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough. Why would anyone ever love me? Why would anyone ever say anything like that about me? I'm worthless. They're crazy."
I'm crazy for thinking anything like that.

It needs to stop.
No one wants to hear someone complain about what a terrible human being they are. No one really wants to hear complaints at all. If you want to make friends and influence people, you should have a positive and happy attitude. You should have confidence in yourself.
I know all this.
It is so hard to implement it.

But now I am going to take a stand. I'm going to reroute my brain. I'm going to change things.
My brain is going to rewrite pathways and optimize good lines of thought.

I am amazing. I have an incredible voice. I am pretty. I am a good person. I try to be a good person, and I think that counts for quite a bit. I may not always be nice, but I try. I am a hard worker. I'm funny. I am a fantastic human being. I may not be quite as awesome as I want to be, but I'm on the pathway there.
I am a good person. I'm an attractive person. I am going to change the world. Maybe not most of the world, but some of the world will be influenced by my presence. It will be changed by the time I leave this frail existence.

I can't even express to you how difficult that was to write out. In my head I was stating all the addendum's and the denials. I had to force them down. Tell them that its not true.
This is going to be hard. I've been telling myself all the things on the other end of the spectrum for so long that I really don't believe the good things.

I'm going to send the electrons down new paths. I'm going to change the way I think. It is going to be a difficult process, because I am going against myself. Bear with me for the next few months as I try to fix the way I think.

ABC its easy as 123...

2011-04-15T20:52:00.001-06:00

My dear friend Brianna wanted me to do this...so I figured what the heck?

Don't you all want to know my ABCs?

Age: 22 and a half

Bed size: Um...enough room for me and a half of another person? Honestly...I'm not sure of bed sizes. Actually I just googled bed sizes. Twin.

Chore you hate: Dishes. Honestly. I despise dishes. I end up doing them frequently though...

Dreams: The travel ones are: Backpack across Europe, visit every continent, tour New Zealand (especially the places where LotRs were filmed), and spend three months in New York. Other ones are: write a book (no one would ever read said book. Just for me), play Marguerite in Scarlet Pimpernel and Eve in Children of Eden, and finally meet a dashing young man and live happily ever after with music and dancing and laughter.

Essential start of your day: Breakfast. If I don't have food...no one should be within a 10 foot radius of me. Nothing else is quite so important to me. Although it helps with the rest of the day if I have make up on.

Favorite color: It changes. Right now green and yellow. Orange is kinda creeping its way in there too. Not really altogether though.

Gold or silver: Gold

Height: a little less than 5'6"

Instruments I play (or have played): Piano, violin, and my voice (is that legal?)

Job title: Ticket Agent. Soprano.

Kids: In the unlikely event that I find a boy that is willing to put up with me, wants to marry me, and impregnate me, sure. I will have children. Until then...none.

Live: Provo, Utah. From Orem, Utah. I go back there frequently. Because I have family there and I go to choir there. Ever day...

Mom's name: Mary Beth

Nickname: RenRen and Airhead (um...I'm really not sure how this nickname came about. The girls who gave it to me even thought it was strange because...I'm not)

Overnight hospital stays: None...

Pet peeve: People who don't try to fix their problems and just complain about them. I complain all the time, but I'm usually trying to figure out stuff and fix it. Off-key singing. Brown nosers/suck ups. Walking behind someone who is walking just barely slower than you and trying to get past them. It is hard because they are almost as fast as you, but not quite. So you spend five minutes trying to get past this person, all while trying not to make direct eye contact, or showing your emotions...which are generally annoyance

Quote from a movie: "Guard your carnal treasure!"

"May all your bacon burn..."

"What a crazy random happenstance!"

"Howard: My name is NOT Steve! My name is Howard! And now that I've told you that I wish you'd forget it!

Judy: That's ok. I like Steve better anyways."

...I'm going to stop. This could go on forever.

Right or left handed: Right handed. Like everyone else...besides those with left handed tendencies...

Siblings: Four younger brothers. One older sister. Two parents.

Time you wake up: During the week about 7:00. Weekends about 9:00

Underwear: I always wear underwear...always.

Vegetables you dislike: I love vegetables. I'm a little anti some, but I can eat them and enjoy it.

What makes you run late: Forgetting important things. Waking up a little bit late.

X-rays you've had done: Teeth...

Yummy food you make: I love making Cafe Rio Salad. Gluten free sugar cookies. Raspberry Danish Dessert. Things that I can eat.

I really do love cooking when I have all the ingredients for stuff. There is something so nice and calming about cooking something delicious. I can pretty much make anything.

Zoo animal: Monkeys are cute...when they aren't flinging poo. I like the penguins. But I saw that stupid part in Happy Feet. It made me depressed. I don't know if I can view them the same way. Hm. I don't know. Caged animals make me feel sort of depressed. Hows about sharks? I like the idea that sharks are locked up and not eating humans on the beaches. Yep. Sharks.

Twisted Muddle

2011-04-12T14:51:00.000-06:00

"Although how can you know, who you are till you know, what you want, which you don't?"

Thank you Sondheim for so eloquently putting all of my confusion into words.

While it doesn't help my case any, at least I can rest safe in the knowledge that other people don't either.

Diana Wynne Jones

2011-04-07T22:54:00.000-06:00

On March 26th one of my favorite authors, Diana Wynne Jones, passed away.

She...was brilliant. There really is no other way to describe this woman. She was smart and gloriously talented. She wrote about 50 books...I don't know for certain, because I started counting...and got depressed. Whenever someone asks me to recommend a book for them to read, I always recommend Howl's Moving Castle, or Fire and Hemlock.

Have you ever had someone have such a profound influence on your life...that you never met?

I always felt as though I knew Diana personally though.

It all began in the fourth grade. My Uncle Randy gave me Witch Week to read.

He never got the book back.

I began to voraciously devour her books. I would read one then the other with such alacrity and speed. Binge reading Diana Wynne Jones books was amazing. I was in a haze of words such as widdershins and snap (before it became the thing to say snap...) with characters that I simultaneously adored and despised. I had an enormous crush on the arrogant and beautiful Christopher Chant (who apparently was sort of based off of Neil Gaiman...who I have had an enormous crush on for a long time. My crush has exponentially increased on Mr. Gaiman since this discovery) and the tall gangly Mitt. My heart was completely broken when Hildy became a jerk. I was delighted (and slightly repelled) when Polly and Tom were able to defeat that evil woman and live happily ever after nowhere...or anywhere. Whatever.

I loved how complicated and simple the stories were. That somehow they managed to grow with you.

In eighth grade I got Elena to join me in solidly ignoring Mr. Smith in the back of the room, both of us reading books by Diana Wynne Jones, instead of paying attention to whatever history he was trying to pour into our uninterested minds.

Throughout junior high and high school, she was always there. Somewhere in the back of my mind, or located in my lap as I tried to sneakily continue reading, her stories were there.

She will always be there.

Neil Gaiman wrote this.

Robin McKinley wrote this and this. I love, "Everyone leaves a themselves-shaped hole when they go."

Even though I never truly met her, I feel as though I know her. There is a Diana Wynne Jones shaped hole

in my heart.

She changed my life.

Even though we never met. Even though she didn't know that I existed...she changed me.

Angsty sorts of silliness...

2011-04-05T15:47:00.000-06:00

Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst.

Pretty much describes my life right now. I assure you that I didn't solicit any of it. Well. Sort of.
I'm not absolved from any of the blame. I am in no way guiltless.
I just wish it would go away.

Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst.

Why do things have to be complicated?
Why do things have to change?
Why does my life seem to be a nexus of chaos?
Pens flying out of windows. Bruised shins. The ability to fall over with nothing there to make me fall.
Maybe there is something wrong with my inner ear.
Seems possible.

Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst.

I hate the male population. They cause me such conflict.
I am not looking forward to Sunday. Why do I have to be an adult? Why can't I run away from my problems?
Why can't I feel what people want me to feel?
Why can't I be that person? Is it really that difficult? Yes. Yes it is...

Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst.

Because I am a free thinking individual with a propensity to overreact and a strange sort of magnetism for all things insane. Also, I have no idea what I want.
I think that about sums up all my problems.

Yep.

Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst.

I wish I was a fashiony sort of person...

2011-04-01T16:55:00.001-06:00

If I could wear a dress every day...I think I would. This will come as a sort of surprised non surprise for my mother.
When I was younger I refused to wear pants. I wore a dress every single day. My pants laid in my drawer, dusty and perpetually creased.
Once upon a time when my father was still in graduate school for theater things and would take his children to win the hearts of his teachers and to use us, my father took me in so that the people in this big concrete room could take pictures of me in jeans (or jeanies...as I called them...). When I realized what was expected of me I promptly burst into tears. My prospects of being a child model were thrown out the window as I continued to howl. They eventually got the pants on my body, and I managed to smile through my red eyes and snot filled tears. I don't believe I was ever invited back.

But I hated pants. Pants were evil. Pants made me want to die. The very idea of my legs being completely swathed in cloth...the horror! It was demeaning. It was confining. I wouldn't do it! It didn't help that I had some black corduroy pants that I wore occasionally that I despised.
Then I got older. I got to elementary school. The boys would entertain themselves by flipping the girls skirts up. Everyone else wore pants. I gave in. I gingerly pulled a pair of ancient pants out of my drawer. They were the dreaded "jeanies."
I slipped one leg, then the other, into the article of clothing.
It was...freeing. there was a sudden range of motion that was quite suddenly available to me. I could hang upside down on the monkey bars without clutching my skirt to my knees. I could slide down the slide without my dress bunching around my waist. I could swing without the dress catching wind. I could roll around and do somersaults without being concerned about someone seeing my underwear.
I suffered from a complete revolution of what I loved. I suddenly could not be forced into anything remotely dress like. All through junior high and high school I avoided dresses. I avoided looking attractive actually...which is another subject for another time. Suffice it to say, I look back on the pictures of me from those times and go, "Hm. What was I thinking? Apparently...I was not. Hm. The bun and sweatshirt look, coupled with ratty jeans...not the most flattering. No wonder no one wanted to date me..."

But now...I'm back. I would love to wear dresses every day.
Preferably from Anthropologie or Shabby Apple. Whenever people do giveaways from Shabby Apple, I always try to win in the hopes of gaining this or this. I so want to be one of those girls that are on fashion blogs and pretty and trendy.
I would be really bad at it.
But I would love to be one of them. I wish I had a huge budget to blow on dresses. I wish that I had a huge amount of cash lying around.
But I don't.
Its so hard to suffer from a revolution of tastes...with no income to support the taste...
*sigh*
Ah well. I am hoping to take up sewing and have a fantastic aptitude for it...even though I tend to make sewing machines commit suicide en masse. But that is another story for another time...

When I Grow Up

2011-03-12T18:36:00.000-07:00

I need to be a better person.

I need to be kinder. I need to be more willing to help others. I need to be braver. I need to be more patient. I need to be a better roommate. A better friend. A more disciplined student. More diligent at church things. A quality person. The list of all the things that I could be better at is long, and doesn't even hold a candle to all the things I'm not.

Here I stand. Or rather sit. All of my imperfections.

Its sobering. Knowing that you are not as good as others. Knowing that you'll never be as smart as You-Know-Who (although who can hold a candle to Voldemort? I mean really?), that you'll never be as coordinated as Jane Doe. You'll never be as good of a leader as John Doe (Those crazy Doe's. Showing everyone up all the time). You'll never be as spiritual as So-and-So. You'll definitely never be as creative as That One Girl.

I can be obnoxious. I can be stupid. I'm stubborn as anything. If I'm in a mood, I can be a brat. I am a spaz. I need things to be spelled out for me. I have a tendency to be emotional. I have a tendency to overreact and freak out about things.

It is so easy to sit there and let the feelings of inferiority wash over you. With complete effortlessness become overwhelmed. Within a moment you can go from feeling fabulous to feeling like a failure. It is so easy to get caught up in comparisons. Its easy to look at the accomplishments of others and think, "I'll NEVER be able to do that. Why bother trying?"

You try because it is good for you. You try because you see something you want. You try because you've hit the point where it is worth it to you. Worth it to get up and do something that speaks to you. To do something that helps to complete you.
You don't want to be like this forever.
You are worth something.

I feel like I'm good at many things. But not great.

I want to be great.

I'm trying to become a better person. I'm trying to be quality. I'm trying not to complain about the things I can't change, or have no control over (its hard btw...). I'm trying to be a good friend.
All of these attempts take me closer to my goal. But I see how much farther I have to go and I feel like its hopeless.

I feel like every step towards being the type of person I'd like to be is like trudging through three feet of sludge. Aside from the obvious mess, there is exhaustion. At times I am the one holding myself back.

We all have different priorities. Mine could be completely different than yours. My goals and accomplishments (such as they are) might mean everything to me, and nothing to you. We are all individuals. We are all unique and special. We all want different things from life. Love. Family. Friends. Work. Money. Events. Journeys.

Someday, when I grow up, I will be incredible. I will be more giving. I will be less temperamental. I will be a spiritual giant. I will be an excellent student. I will do all the things that need to get done. I will be clever and witty.

Until I become that person though, you are all stuck with me.
Hopefully it isn't too much of a burden for you all.

But one step at a time I will become the incredible sort of person that I would love to be...

I'm smiling and waiting for the blast of reality...

2011-03-07T03:16:00.003-07:00

My second set of midterms is upon me. I tried to ignore the impending doom. I tried to pretend it wasn't coming, but alas, my determination to ignore the stampede of tests was futile.
Blech. Starting today, I go into study mode.
Three tests this week. Two next. What amounts to a six page paper next week.
Yick

Sometimes there are good things that happen though.

Sometimes something beautiful and special happens to you. Something you never really expected to happen. You hoped it would, but every time your heart reached out to grab onto the hope, your brain swiftly smacked it down. Your brain has the sense. Your brain knows how these things go. Your heart reaches out, puts down roots, and clasps onto things (this is all sounding a bit creepy and sci-fi-esque now that I think about it...) that your brain knows are no good. Then when you don't get the very thing that your heart most desires, your heart shatters and Brainy has to deal with the carnage left behind.
Brainy: *gingerly picks up a piece of heart* I told you this would happen.
Scrap of Heart: I know...
Brainy: *grabs another oozing piece of heart flesh* What have we learned this time?
Scrap of Heart: That we don't go for things we know we can't have.
Brainy: Now what do we say?
Scrap of Heart: I'm sorry. I won't do it again...oooooh. Shiny...
There was the unspoken hope. The hope that wasn't ever verbalized, even inside your mind.
It might have been verbalized once or twice actually. But only to Liesl. And NEVER taken seriously.
Most of my greatest adventures occur in my head. I've never actually had something happen that lived up to my expectations. But this exceeded them.
In all likelihood, this will lead to nothing.
(Brainy: Remember what happened last time?
Regenerated Scrap of Heart: Yeah...who cares?
Brainy: You will.
RSoH: But not right now!)
But for now I have this lovely memory. I will always cherish it. It will always be there, nestled next to my memories of having a dance party in our living room soon after Amanda's return and watching her awkwardly try and get out of her missionary self, and driving all over Orem and Provo with Doug back when I was sixteen.
Nothing can take that away. It happened. There were witnesses. It wasn't an imagination that got very out of hand and led to my subsequent incarceration in a mental institution.
Nothing will happen. I know this. Brainy is making certain that I know this. But my heart is letting me hope. Silly little thing.
There is that one sparkling memory that dazzles and shines. It makes things better. This memory gives me cause to smile when I'm walking home in the pouring rain. It warms the cockles of my heart.

. . .

What in the world is a cockle?

An LDC Weekend

2011-03-02T19:00:00.075-07:00

It all started on Thursday really.

I was at the rehearsal for the Talent Show. We were all backstage doing our things. I was doing my chemistry homework.

Then after we performed they told us to get our hindquarters into the chapel so that we could practice for the CES Fireside. After much internal whining (and perhaps some outer), I ended up in there singing with something like 300-400 people. It was quite exciting. I decided that I would end up singing in the fireside, in spite of the fact that I had already made the decision not to. I will be in the CES Fireside this Sunday if anyone cares to look for me.

After that we went back into the gym to practice for the talent show. After running around trying to make everything work, we were finally done.

On Friday, we had the talent show. I ran home after work and got all my stuff gathered and then I raced to the 'Tute to get to there on time for our call. Which was kind of pointless, might I point out, because we were just sitting backstage the entire time wasting time.

Then the talent show began. There was much singing and dancing and general gaiety.

I sang I Won't Say I'm in Love from Hercules.

I just watched a recording of it. I...am not a particular fan of my voice. Which is a bit tragic. All that work put into it, all those years (All the wasted time, all the million hours, leaves too high to touch...roots to strong to fall? Hm. I can't quite remember the song. Time for a Jason Robert Brown kick!

Oh hey! I was right. Her voice annoys me. His voice makes me melt. That last note...mmmmmmm.)

Oh well. Nothing for it but to put even more time into it...oh wait. I have no time. And whats the point!?

The talent show was really fun though. We did a medley of Disney songs. It was epic. If you are friends with me on facebook you could probably watch it. The whole talent show was almost like an OHS reunion. It was fun to see everyone. After I performed I watched in the audience. The last song, That Thing You Do, was really fun. I was sitting next to my friend Amy. When they started playing that song we were dancing in our seats. Then one of the techies told us to start dancing. Amy jumped up immediately. After a little prompting I got up and started dancing. Then the girl sitting in front of us started dancing. Then suddenly there was a whole crowd of us dancing and heading to the front. There really is no way to describe how it feels to start something like that, or to be a part of it. It was definitely a favorite moment.

I lost all my energy quite abruptly after that. I had my friend take me home and I, in a zombie stupor, wandered around my apartment aimlessly. I finally gave up on even attempting to live. I crawled into my bed with a relief that cannot be expressed.

Then the insomnia kicked in. I went home and lay awake. My eyes were so very tired and I could not sleep. Tossing and turning. Wanting to scream in frustration, but can't because Liesl is asleep in the bed next to me. Knowing that the swiftly approaching dawn will be decidedly unfriendly.

Then waking up at 6:33 because my body decided that would be the perfect time to wake up. I didn't have to leave until 8:00ish. Words cannot express the frustration and internal anguish that I felt.

I then went off to Springville. Or maybe it was Spanish Fork...anywho we went and sang for a Relief Society breakfast. We ate and then departed. But not before having a massive snowball fight. I got Robert. It felt so right. It filled my heart with joy. But Brady got me in the back of the head. Which was less fun, but my hood was up, so it didn't make that much of an impression. I vowed revenge and shook my fist at him. But then got into Joanna's car and off we went.

Then we headed back to the institute. The theme for our show this year is families. So the theme for the retreat was The Incredibles, because they are superheroes and its about family. We were divided into superhero families and had a theme. My families was Little Rascals. There were the Deharmonizers (musical villains), a Tron themed family (family...isn't it about Tron? I mean time!), superhero sports stars (supersnaps for Beckham!), leprechauns (He's singing that stupid Beiber song. Its impenetrable!), and many more.
We dressed up in our superhero costumes. We performed skits.
My family was really fun.
Then we had marshmallow olympics.
Which was entertaining. To say the least.
Then we all got together and sang. All of us were completely exhausted by this point. We were all less than enthusiastic about the prospect of more work. All that I wanted was 15 minutes of shut eye.
After singing we ate dinner. Mmmmmmm.
Everyone started to perk up again.
Then Brother Eggett started talking to us, with his wife, about the things that made his marriage successful.
1) Loving the Lord more than your spouse. Following the teachings of the prophet, not taking too much time away from your family, but giving up things so that you can follow him.
2) Loving your spouse more than anything. Lots of dating and quality time together. Making time to be together. Brother Eggett told us about how they go on dates three times a week. Monday for lunch, Wednesday for dinner, and a weekend night. Not to mention surprise dates.
They use coupons and have a budget.
They come home at the end of the day and at 9:00 they have them time. They watch old movies, and talk about their days. They also have treats. They really are best friends and love to spend time with each other.
3) Serving your spouse. He talked about trying to find ways to serve your spouse and knowing that they will be serving you is one of the best things in the world.

He told us the (abridged) story of their dating and courtship. He even did the cold sound. If you haven't heard it there is no way to show you how it sounds. My cheeks don't do that. Just trust that it is epic.

Sitting there and speaking of all these things made me a little less terrified of marriage. Only a little. But it was hugely helpful.

Someday, when I grow up, I'm gonna be like Brother and Sister Eggett

Then we had the dance.

I don't know if I have ever been to a dance where I had more fun. There were only 60ish of us. But they were all the people I would have been dancing with if I was at a regular institute dance.
None of us really have any inhibitions around each other.
I danced every single slow song minus one. But that was ok, because it was time for water.
We were all dancing crazy, and the music was loud and fun. Although I should not whip my hair back and forth. My neck was so very sore the next day.
I think one of the requirements for my future spouse will be that he has to be able to dance. Not necessarily well, but he can't be afraid of dancing for two or three hours, and he cannot stand around like an obnoxious bump on a log. I'm just saying. My family has random dance breaks. He needs to be able to fit in.
One of the last songs was, Save the Last Dance For Me.
I found the people I had been dancing with the entire night. We had all gotten separated while I was whipping my hair back and forth. But we were once again reunited.
We were singing along and dancing. I reached out to my friend and he grabbed my hands. We started dancing together. We were singing along still, there was great dramatic interpretation and he twirled me across the floor.
Brother Eggett came up to us and said, "You two are my favorite dancing couple of the night!"
We felt very proud of ourselves.
Then after the dance was over, we cleaned up, and left the institute. I talked Liesl's ear off. I crawled into bed, happy and content.

The morning came far too soon.

This weekend was the reason I've been walking around like a zombie from Sunday until Tuesday.
Would I do it all again?
Heck yes!

How lovely was the morning? It was beautiful...

2011-03-01T16:15:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had something completely unexpected thrown at you? That you were NOT prepared for?

This past weekend, which was completely time consuming and crazy, I went to a retreat for my choir, Latter Day Celebration (LDC). That morning we went to Spanish Fork and sang for a Relief Society.
Just a day in the life...

One of the songs that my choir has in our repertoire is Oh How Lovely Was the Morning.

It is for women only.

It is beautiful.

This time though, Brother Eggett decided to change it up.

He did not inform us of this decision.

He had about six men who served their missions in foreign countries and spoke a different language speak their language. They all recited the first vision as found in the Preach My Gospel manual.

It started out with Jeff. He started out in Tagalog. Then Paul joined in with Japanese. Then others joined in, each speaking a different language. There was a cacophony of syllables and vowels, as the words flowed over each other. Some of the languages were smooth. Others had a bubbly tonal quality. There were those spoken in deeper voices, some in higher. Those that began finished, and the room got quieter, as those that were speaking finished. Finally Aaron was the only boy left. He spoke the last words and the room was silent. Ellen began playing.

When Aaron was finished speaking, something resonated within my soul. It rang clear and true, almost like a bell.

The altos began to sing, and I began to feel an uncomfortable warm feeling within my eyes. I tried to keep it contained. But I looked across the room to my dear friend Anne and she caught my eye.

The tears began to trickle slowly.

Then the sopranos began to sing.

I had a difficult time hitting the notes. My voice shook and I could barely contain my emotion. But as the song went on I regained my composure and we grew in sound. Before the last verse, David Smith once again spoke the first vision in English:

“I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which
descended gradually until it fell upon me...When the light rested upon me I saw two
Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the
air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This
is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!”

With that we began singing the final verse:

    "'Joseph, this is my Beloved;  
    Hear him!' Oh, how sweet the word!  
    Joseph’s humble prayer was answered,  
    And he listened to the Lord.  
    Oh, what rapture filled his bosom,  
    For he saw the living God."  

The mixture of music and the spoken word was too much for me. My tears started to flow freely. As I looked around the room, I saw friends who were also affected. The men that were dispersed throughout the women had tears had those conspicuously unmistakable red eyes accompanied by sniffing. The women in the audience were weeping openly.

The spirit was so strong. I wanted to jump and cheer and shout from the mountain tops that the church is true. I wanted to sit and write down my thoughts. I wanted to discuss my ideas with someone. I felt peaceful.
It was glorious. Our singing obviously suffered, but not as much as you would expect. The flaws in our singing weren't important though, because the spirit was there.
It was beautiful.

I am still sort of mad at Brother Eggett for springing that on us unexpectedly though.

I'm writing a post about my marvelous LDC weekend. This was a part of it. But it just didn't fit with everything else. So here is a little preview and a small taste of what I get to experience with my beautiful and lovely choir.

10 Random Things of the Day

2011-02-21T23:53:00.000-07:00

1. I need to stop looking at Anthropologie. It makes me depressed. Most especially the fact that I will never own this. Or this.

2. I need to stop obsessing about boys. And how they will never like me. Every time I start to think, "Hey. He might like me. Happiness!" of course a bucket filled to the brimful with ice cold reality splashes me in the face. As it trickles down my cheeks, and my hair starts to curl because of the wetness (reality is always wet. It just is. Don't argue), the droplets start singing, "Nah, nah, na-na-nah!" (yes. Reality sings snotty two year old songs at you. Once again arguments are futile).

3. Thinking about school gives me panic. Thinking about clean checks tomorrow gives me more panic. Panic is my muse. Panic makes me write. Panic makes me procrastinate the inevitable. Panic actually is more detrimental than it first appears.

4. Why doesn't the guy that I've had a major crush on for well over a year love me? WHY!?! What is his problem? I'm done feeling sorry for myself, I'm done wondering what is wrong with me, what is HIS problem? Sorry. Do I sound bitter? Maybe its because I AM! And because I am angry it makes me lash out at other people. It also makes me act out in ways not always good.

5. I really need to stop obsessing about boys. This can't be healthy. Besides. I'm on a boy fast. (Yeah...maybe I should just give that up. I made it about two weeks instead of four. It was really good while it lasted. But let us face it. I like boys. And flirting with them. But still. The obsessing really does need to stop)

6. Writing a story without using the word "The"...is it possible?

7. Apparently I don't look like a nerd. Probably one of the biggest compliments I have ever received. I went visiting teaching yesterday and I was getting to know my companion. I was telling her about how I want to be a high school biology teacher and she looked at me and said, "Wow. You don't look like a nerd."
I was thrilled.

8. I was going to write a list of all the nerdy things that I do to prove my point. Writing it made me feel ashamed. Just take my word for it: I am a nerd. I'm not ready for the world at large to know exactly how nerdy I am. My love for Joss Whedon, online comics, and various activities cement myself firmly into the nerd category.

9. Why do the boys that you would love to remain firmly in the friend category want to be in the relationship category? Why do the boys that you wish would be stranded on a desert island on the other side of the planet decide that you are the one that they want to molest or manipulate?
Here is the bigger question. Why do I let them? Manipulate me that is. Not molest.

10. I need to stop dwelling on boys.

11. Nicki Minaj is strange. But has very expressive eyes.

12. This is more than the originally intended 10. Oh well. Its like the five books in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy. There are a couple extra. I just didn't feel as though I could end on dwelling on boys...oh wait. Dang it!

Happy Love Day!

2011-02-14T23:45:00.000-07:00

To paraphrase Liesl, don't find an excuse to be angry about being single. Just be angry about being single.

I kind of like Valentines Day. There is something sort of sweet about giving people cards and candy. Flowers are always nice. It breaks up the monotony of February. It makes you think about love in a semi serious way. Yeah it is commercialized...what holiday isn't? Honestly I'm pretty excited for Easter because of the Cadbury mini eggs...and the celebration of the resurrection of our Savior...

You should probably do nice things for your significant other more frequently...but without an excuse people tend to forget. Its easy to get caught up in the day to day process of living.

Yeah its kind of based off of a Pagan holiday, which marked the beginning of the courtship of humans and the mating of birds, in spite of the name of St. Valentine (There were actually multiple St. Valentines...just so you know...we learned about them in my History of Christianity class today). Once again...which holiday isn't?

Even though I am alone on Valentines Day (which is nothing new) it is kind of nice to sit back and think of all the people that I love. It is a wonderful thing to tell people how important they are to you.

There is also something lovely about getting Valentines. Maybe it is the vestiges of my elementary school experience speaking to me. Candy and cards with puns and cartoons on them. Fun! Today I got a Batman valentine and a Tangled one. Nothing but happiness here.

I also got a rose from the institute. Its beautiful and large. It is yellow, orange, and red. It also has a lush fragrant scent. These are the loveliest of the roses. One of my neighbors in the home ward has the most glorious roses, but of all the pinks, reds, and yellows the ones that have the progression of colors are my favorite. Someday, in the unlikely event that someone buys me flowers I want those. Yellow to orange to red.

I look over at it and feel happy.

It seems like a promise to me that things are alright, and I will find someone someday.

Someone who will give me pretty flowers.

Friendship friendship just the perfect blendship...

2011-02-14T16:32:00.000-07:00

We are friends
Those can be three of the most blissful words strung together.
It can be a death sentence.
It can bring great happiness.
It can throw you to the depths of despair.

I'm the sort of person that needs validation of a friendship.
The things that make me feel as though I am friends with someone is when we spend (quality) time together. That I can converse with them easily, without any awkwardness (because my world is a strange and awkward place, this is priceless), and walk away feeling good about myself and them is priceless.
However, I frequently feel like I am the person that initiates everything. Everytime I want to do something, I have to contact people. I have to set things up.
Something that lets me know that people like me is when they text me. When they call me. When they ask me to do something. When they tell me that they enjoy my company or that they love me.
It makes me feel validated. It enables me to get to be better friends with people.

I value my friendships. They have never really come easily to me. I tend to be unwilling to go forward with any sort of relationship if I don't feel that they like me. I'm cautious with my affection.

But friends! That is one of those magical things. It means that we have connection. We have that bond. We get along. We can be ourselves in front of each other. I love having friends.

However.

Being consigned to the friendship category is one of the most depressing things that can happen to a person. In some ways it is freeing. Yet the unpleasant lurch followed by the hollowness in the heart that renews itself every single time the reminder comes, makes for a constant ache.

Why do things have to be so complicated? I'm moving on. But the progress is sad. I'm glad to be friends, but the whole thing depresses me. My boy fast came exactly when it could do the most good.

Friendship. Beautiful, lovely friendship. I adore it. It keeps me going. I only wish that it wasn't the only thing that ever happened to me...

In the Quiet Frosty Morning...

2011-02-12T00:48:00.000-07:00

Today I was awakened at 5:24. I went back to bed for six minutes and got up.
I received 5 1/2 hours of sleep. Just in case you were wondering.
Which is about the average the past week.
I'm surprised that I am even functioning at this point.
Oh wait...

This morning I went to perform for the Springville Seminary with LDC.
Today I was struck with stage fright.

Perhaps it was a combination of the lack of sleep, my academic failures, and my idiotic tendencies to blurt whatever I'm currently thinking (even if it isn't necessarily what I believe) out in a loud obnoxious voice.
Perhaps it was because I was standing front and center in front of 200+ high school students who were surprised to be happy to be there.

Perhaps it was because I was having a spiritual epiphany and I was afraid that every single student there could see it...even though there were no tears, no words, and nothing that outwardly spoke of my emotions.

I'm always afraid of people seeing into my mind. I'm always terrified that they will see ME and they will hate me. Or laugh at me. Or hate me.

I was quite retiscent when I was younger. And by younger I mean like...a year and a half ago.
I have an outgoing personality.
I also have a very shy quiet personality. For most of my junior high school and high school existence I had a silent and nonaggressive role. With varying explosions of personality that shocked and amazed my peers who were unfamiliar with me. For most of my life, the quiet personality has dominated. I've never been particularly enthused at the thought of being the center of attention, in spite of my desire to be lead. Compliments leave me flustered and unsure. Having attention on me tends to make my mind go blank and my storytelling skills (such as they are...) plummet. I love one on one attention. I have mostly hated being the center of attention in groups of 6 or more.

In high school I was silent. Until my senior year, when I got friends, got a lead in the play, and had a wonderful time.
Then I went off to college. I was outgoing and excited about my freshman year. I didn't bother my sophmore year. This past year or so, I have been trying to be outgoing and fun. With everyone I meet.

Its hard.

That wasn't really the point of this post though. Remember how I'm tired?

The point was, I'm afraid of people. I'm terrified that if they will get to know me, they will reject me, and Despise me. Curse my existence. Destroy my home. Sow salt into the ground.
You know. The usual.

I've never really experienced stage fright since high school. Probably not since junior high.
But standing there, this morning at 6:45 am with a plethora of teenagers staring me down, I became nervous.
The hands were shaking, the voice squeaked out of my throat with all the unnaturalness of the fear vibrato.
But the spirit was there.
Testifying.
Comforting me.
Telling me that I was in the right place. (There is something so comforting about that. Recently I've felt like I've been running around with no purpose or direction.)
Molecular Biology and Organic Chemistry are only of the moment. You can, and will, do better.

It was nice.

Lovely.

No tears. Which made the whole experience even better.
Now I have to stop being a slacker.
I've never been a slacker before. I was always a good studious student. Academic success fills my heart and spleen with a happiness that cannot be described. But since August, I have been doing a very poor job. I haven't been studying. I haven't been doing the things I normally do to prepare for classes. I was able to bluff my way through last semester on the things that I already knew and marginal amounts of studying.
I can't do that this semester.
But I have a drive to study again. I have the desire.
I've missed it.

Is it summer yet?

2011-02-09T08:30:00.000-07:00

Do you know what the best calling in the world is?

Not bishop. Not relief society president. No, not Sunday school teacher. Not FHE mom. Not missionary. All of those are good. They lead to wonderful things.

But this one is better.

There I was. Sunday night. I was feeling stressed and unloved because my family would rather go to a Superbowl party than have a family dinner. I had just gotten back from ward prayer. Liesl and Ariel were talking as I sat on my bed, wasting time on my computer.

My phone rang and I dug it out of my coat.

I looked at the caller ID.

Connoray.

I was confused as to why he was calling, because apparently my family doesn't love me enough to provide me with sustenance and enough love to carry me through the next week of stressful midterms and bad eating habits. However I answered.

Me: Hello?

Connoray: Hey. Guess what?

Me:...I have no idea. (as a side note, I kind of hate it when people say "Guess what?" because there are so many possibilities and my brain short circuits. It tends to make me respond in a manner most sarcastic and snotty)

*I could hear tittering in the background and general sounds of excitement*

Connoray: Dad got called...TO BE DIRECTOR AT HILL CUMORAH PAGEANT!!!!!!!!

Me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!

Liesl and Ariel froze in their conversation and looked over at me in consternation.

Then followed a celebration that probably scared most of the inhabitants of my apartment complex. There was shouting and leaping and many breathless, "Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!!!!!"

There was uncontrollable giggling.

Director.

Of the Hill Cumorah Pageant.

Don't you wish that your calling was as cool?

Do you realize what this means? I get to be in the Hill Cumorah Pageant whenever I like for the next five years.

Which means I am going to move heaven and earth to get there this summer. Who cares about taking classes in the summer? I am going to the Hill Cumorah Pageant!

...I hope...

Dragging myself towards the inevitable end that I am simultaneously dreading and praying for.

2011-02-08T23:52:00.000-07:00

Today was...interesting.
I gave my devotional today. No...it wasn't quite as intense as this one.
But it was good. I got to bear my testimony. Then again through song. I sang For Me Alone (which I very lovingly stole from my bestest friend Jewel. Who just had her birthday yesterday. She is now 22. She is quite probably the most incredible, humble, kindest, beautiful, lovely, spiritual person I have ever met. Sorry fellas...she's taken! By her handsome and kind husband Jeff! The greatest couple the world has ever seen!). I messed up. Lots. But oh well! I think the spirit was there. So we'll take it.
I've kind of had a couple of rotten days. Today, at work all I wanted was for work to be over. Here are a couple of scenarios of how I wish things could go down...

Customer: I'd like to buy tickets for Cinderella.
Me: What day?
Customer: Friday.
Me: I'm sorry, we are sold out for Friday. We have tickets available for Thursday evening and Saturday evening.
Customer: WHAT!?! What do you mean!?! My life is RUINED!!!!!! You have ruined my life! I will hold you personally responsible! My testimony is destroyed because of the ticket office!
Me: *fist of justice whips forth and punches the meanie in the face. Yes. I just called them a meanie. It is not my fault that they waited until the week of to buy tickets. No need for them to insult me because they weren't smart enough to come sooner*

Customer: I'd like to buy tickets for Cinderella.
Me: What day?
Customer: Thursday. I want my comps. I also have my freshman card. And my dance major card. Just so you know, I am buying tickets for my twelve family members. I also have four other friends who are all buying their tickets with their NSO cards (which means that each order has to be separate) and we all want to sit next to each other. Also, don't I get some kind of exception because I am more important than everyone else that has bought tickets?
Me: Sorry. We're closed. *slams the sliding wood down with swift and decisive movements*

I only wish...*sigh*
(I am going to give a disclaimer stating that I would never do either of these things. Also I am normally quite happy to help customers. Today was just...special. Miserable. Lame. Unending)

I'm feeling overly stressed.
Instead of doing the things that I should do, I get overwhelmed and don't do anything. I waste my time, becoming more jittery and I feel like the weight of the world is collapsing on me. Eventually, when I actually do the things that I am supposed to, but I don't get as much done as I had planned on, I feel like even more of a failure. Which makes me not want to study anymore. So I don't. I then feel like I'm not smart enough to function as an adult. Which makes me go into panic mode.
If I snap at you in the next week...please forgive me.

Can it just be Friday? Or better yet, Saturday? I'm planning on watching Firefly and vegging after I complete my organic chemistry homework. I think that sounds like the perfect Saturday.
I'm so tired. I feel incapable of doing all the things that need doing. Like studying for Molecular Biology test, going to the Institute for a rehearsal for the talent show, sleeping, eating...you know. Important things.

Don't mistake me. There have been some wonderful things that have happened. I got asked to the Institute dance. I'm getting a haircut tomorrow. I get to sing. Its going to be alright.

After Thursday.

Who knew these things could be so violent?

2011-02-01T16:19:00.002-07:00

I love when stories grab you with fierce abandon and chomp you up and eat you alive. They absorb you, making you a part of them. They take a hold of your will and bend it to theirs. They suck you into a whirl of plot and characters that is engaging and obsessive. It takes over your brain for the however long you are voraciously consumed by the story. You may think that you are in charge of your actions and that you had agency. You were mistaken.
You are held by the story. You are not the one in charge anymore as you're ideas and thoughts are no longer your own. As you and the story devour each other the rest of life is shunted off to the side. You go through the rest of your day to day activities daydreaming about the story and the characters. You imagine how it will end. You obsess over the protagonists. The politics and strategies of that world are infinitely more important than that of the "real world."
It’s interesting. It’s horrible. It’s fascinating.
It is the reason that I do not allow myself to become invested in TV shows anymore. It is the reason why I try not to read any books during the semester. Because once a story catches me in its thrall and I am trapped until I emerge from the story. Usually exhilarated and satisfied...unless it’s a cliffhanger. Then I become angry for being tricked. Because it will happen again and even more time that I should use for other things will be wasted...but I am helpless against its call.

Dear Bishopric Members

2011-01-26T18:06:00.000-07:00

Why is it that when you are in a singles ward, the bishop and first counselors make it their mission to get everyone married? I suppose it is because we are supposed to be on the path of eternal progression and our fragile souls are in their strong capable hands. But they make it seem as though there is an ocean of single men (and women) out there in the far landscape of BYU.
On this website they give all the stats of the students at BYU.
Total there are 32,947. That is quite a sum. This includes graduate students, part timers, people taking a class online, and basically everyone.
There are 17,261 men and 15,686 women.
74% of the total are single (that is 24,319 people).
For the sake of my argument I'm going to tell you that there are 18,445 between the ages of 21-26...because check it out. I'm 22...premies just don't do a whole lot for me.

So I'm just going to go out on a limb and use some of my basic math skills and figure some stuff out. Just bear with me. I'm not a math major. I have no desire to be. I am quite content with my Biology Science Education major thank you very much. So if my math doesn't match yours...to quote a famous Mormon author...

“Unfortunately, I don’t keep a surplus of damns on hand, so I don’t have one to give right now.”

Are we clear? Crystal? Good.

Of these within the 21-26 age group. 52% of those are male. So that is about 9591.4 men. But WAIT! Only 74% of the people within are single. So that is 7097.6 people...I'm just going to start rounding up. I feel bad for that fraction person.
Now. Of those 7098 people. Let us cut out half of those. These are all the crazy people, the people with bad hygiene, the people with zero social skills, etc. The ones you can stand to be with. You may say that there are not that many awkward people, but have you looked around your singles ward lately? See my point? So that leaves us with 3,549 people. You still with me? Good.
What we have left are the relatively normal people.
Now let us take away another half of the these people. These are the nice people in the world that you aren't attracted to (there are some perfectly nice men that I am just not attracted to. There are some handsome guys that I'm not attracted to. Thus there will be nothing there. Why yes. I am shallow. I'm betting that you are too...), or the people that you are attracted to, but their personality SUCKS.
So that is 1,775 people.
Now. Let us take away yet another half. These are the people that you are attracted to, who also have good personalities, but you just don't mesh with them. Different tastes in movies and music. Different standards. Different levels of spirituality. Different desires for what you want from life. Just won't work out even though they are attractive on both the main levels. Just too different.

So there you are. Down to 888 people. These are the people that you could be blissfully happy with. These are the ones who could be your eternal companion.

BUT WAIT! You have to fit into this same category with all the boys who fit into this small category as well. You have to be attractive personality wise and physically. You have to mesh with them. You need to have all the same important things like life goals, standards, etc. Oh! And don't forget the lovely boys that are already dating someone but aren't married.
So hey. Lets chop off another half.
That is 444 people.
Out of 32947.
That is 1.35% of the population at BYU.
I'm sure that you could use similar math to figure out the stats for females within your age group. I'm also pretty sure that this doesn't just apply to just BYU either...

So tell me this. How exactly does one go about finding these elusive people? There are thousands of people attending BYU. Most of them are the unlikelies that we have shaved away chunk by chunk. Don't forget all the competition that there is as well. There are also hundreds of girls looking for their E.C. that are vicious and cutthroat.
Perhaps my math is wrong. I could have only counted full time or 3/4 time students. I could have done some math wrong. But...this still feels about right.
So my dear, dear bishopric members. I know that you mean well. I know that it seems as though we are swimming in a vast pool of singleness. It must just be laziness on our parts I guess. After all you got married. Although it does seem to me that people who are married have amnesia. They automatically assume that because they are married, anyone can get married. And they have just the person to set you up with.

They are exhibiting selective memory.

It is not as simple as all that.
Perhaps your courtship was as easy as stepping off the plane from the mission and into the temple with your lover. Perhaps you never had to brave the horrors of dating and the terrors of boys.
But for the mass majority of us it is a frustrating series of hits and misses. Dating is hard and frequently fruitless.
We are struggling to find that 1.35% that we are compatible with.
The odds, they are not in our favor.
But it seems as though most of the people within the dating pool manage to get married by 25. So perhaps the odds aren't so bleak. It just seems as though it is hopeless. But hopefully, as you get older, the crowds are thinned out. The wierdos shall find each other and have strange little babies. The jerks will find each other and continue the vicious dramatic cycle. The beautiful people will find each other. All that will be left
And there! There they will be! Waiting for YOU! You shall fall into each other's arms, grateful that there is SOMEONE normal out there. There is SOMEONE who is not crazy...or just crazy enough. Finally, you get to be with the one person that will stay with you through thick and thin. No matter what. Find this person. Once you find them, hold on to them and never let them go. Like the story of Tam Lin. Be like Janet. Well...don't become impregnated by a human held as a servant of the fairies. That probably was not the smartest thing to do. But hold on to him no matter what fearsome creature he turns into. Hopefully he will eventually turn into his former human self.

P.S. The Mormon author was Shannon Hale...just so you know.

A plethora of randomness. Also. A promise to myself.

2011-01-24T22:32:00.000-07:00

I am a very healthy individual. I eat lots of fruits and vegetables. Perhaps I do eat more food in general than I should, but it isn't anything crazy unhealthy. Because of my dietary restrictions, I can't eat a lot of the really unhealthy things that get eaten regularly by many of my peers. I don't eat pizza, I don't eat donuts, I don't eat cookies or cakes. I do eat quite a bit of chocolate, but I think that there are antioxidants and other healthy things in there that counteract the fat and sugar. Right? Actually don't answer that. The point here is that there is a host of unhealthy and over processed foods that I don't eat.

I also exercise. I can go for a while, and underneath the blobby fat, I actually have some quite nice muscles.

I am healthy.

So why am I sick? WHY!?! What have I done to deserve this?

This is so very lame.

I have gotten sick more in the past six months than I ever have in my life.

I wish I understood why.

You know that song that Julie Andrews sings in that one musical about the seven children? The one where she makes them clothes out of curtains. In the song she sings about favorite things and how it makes her feel better. That philosophy really works.
Talking about favorite things, or singing favorite songs, really helps me to feel better about life in general.
For example, on Friday I was feeling very grumpy. I went home and me and my roommate Ariel were doing the dishes. While we were scrubbing and controlling our gag reflexes I kept saying good things that had happened to me. I kept singing songs that made me happy. By the end I was twirling around our kitchen.
Then I went to go and see Peter Pan again. Then me and Ariel watched Finding Neverland and made brownies. Gluten free brownies. We licked the batter and smelled the glorious brownie smell. There were no unhappy "AH! I can't eat these. Woe is my life! I'm going to go jump off a bridge now..." (not really. I've actually come to face these problems with fortitude and maturity. Most of the time...there are always exceptions) (Yes...I do occasionally eat brownies...thus disproving quite a bit of my first paragraph. But for the most part the first paragraph is the rule...the brownies are the exception as well). I also got the apartment to myself for a little while and I was able to belt a ton of songs at the top of my lungs. It was quite satisfying.
It turned out to be a pretty good day.

Also. I have been paid a compliment twice in the past month.

I have been called graceful.

I have never before heard this adjective be used in relation to myself. Once can be excused as something odd. Twice though...hmmm...
I like it.

I have also decided that I am going to go on a boy fast.
By this, I mean that I will not be doing any sort of pursuing of the opposite gender. I will not speak of any males in my acquaintance in any way except for anecdotal. I will not obsess about any boys. If I get asked out on a date, then I will go. I will probably end up asking a boy to an institute dance, but that will be it. I can't promise that I won't think about them...cause that will not happen. But I won't talk about them.
I will do this for a month. We shall see how this goes...

Griswold: The magnificent. The handsome. The lovely. The absent.

2011-01-13T15:20:00.000-07:00

Not having my computer has driven me insane. I suppose I always was crazy. But it was always the crazy that was borderline. I oscillated on the delicate line of sanity and bat crazy.
Its not just the lack of networking that is making me lose my cool and feel completely out of the loop. It isn't the fact that I now regard computers as "my precious" and may or may not have screamed in agony that the BYU computer people have "STOLEN IT FROM US!!"
I now sit on my bed, at a loss for what to do. I could read my homework assignments. So I do. But oh wait, something dreadfully important that was only available on blackboard is not currently accessible to me. I finish the reading, but am incapable of summoning the energy or the will to walk the 20 minute trip back to campus in the freezing cold to access the homework. So I choose not to.
There I sit on my bed. The insanity wraps its icy tendrils around my brain, creeping through the crevices.
I am addicted to my computer. I am going through withdrawals. Its a nasty business.

It is the loss of Microsoft Word that has gotten to me the most though. Frequently I have thoughts and I just have to write them down. I write down story ideas. I write in my journal. The past semester I had well over 60 pages in journal. Without a computer it is hard.
I HATE writing things down with pen and paper.

Not initially.

At first I love getting my fingers smudged with ink. I love writing on a tablet. It feels so real and so wonderful. I feel connected.
However. As time passes, my handwriting progressively becomes very illegible. My wrist starts to hurt. I use so much pressure that my fingers hurt. It is so slow. My handwriting wasn't that pretty before I got bored. Now I have to strain my eyes to see what the heck I was thinking. My brain is way ahead of where I actually am. I can't go back and change a paragraph.
Here I sit, in utter awe of anyone who wrote novels before the computer became a household item.
How did they survive?

This past week I have had to resort to writing things down. Physically.
At first, I didn't want to. I could wait.
Then I couldn't. I have hand written at least 10 pages in the past two days. It all came out in a waterfall of words and ideas.
Let me remind you that I hate writing things down.
That is akin to hiking to the top of a mountain (when I start hyperventilating and can't breathe and everyone is looking at me like I am a freak...not that this has ever before occurred. But if that did happen then it was in front of the same girls that had seen me step into a pond in the statue garden located between the HFAC and the MOA. But there were more witnesses for that event than the first. NOT that any of these things have ever happened to me before. Ever). Or poking myself in the eye.
But I have needed to write things down. So many things have happened that need to be dissected by myself. My brain needs that release.

I have to. It organizes my thoughts. It makes me feel better. It is my catharsis.

My computer is getting better. One more part needs to be shipped and then VOILA! I get Griswold back.
Oh Griswold, RETURN TO ME!!!! I LOVE YOU!
Then I can regain my brain. Then I can start networking. I can resume my facebook friendships. You know the ones. Your only means of communicating with them is by FB chat. I also can start doing my homework at home again. And I can stop annoying Liesl about whether or not I can use her computer. Which is nice.

On a positive note, me and some of my best friends since junior high are having a girls night. I'm super excited. They are all married and lame. Therefore these times that we all get together are infrequent and cherished.
On an I'm an idiot note:
How do I enter the audit a class code? I got the code...I don't know how to make it so.

Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here..

2011-01-10T15:50:00.000-07:00

I love music. I love how it can transport us to another time and place. I suppose it is like watching your life flash before your eyes. It is the only way that time travel is capable.
Some songs that will always transcend time and space. My body will still be there, carrying on conversations and continuing life. But my mind is on a different plane of existence. I love those songs. They take me back to a time and place when I was different. I can still feel the emotions. I can still see clearly the exact moment or feel the precise feeling that I associate with that song.
Swing Swing by The All American Rejects
I have vivid memories of dancing around Jewel's car, Ferdinand (the first), in the high school parking lot after a dance. A bunch of other people came and joined in the prancing around the car. There were probably about 13 of us twirling and dancing around that car at one point. There was joy in the beauty of youth and life.
Summer Sunshine by the Corrs
My freshman year, winter semester. I had terrible roommates (with one exception. Oh Lydia, you were my savior!). I would take to walking around the frigid arctic of Rexburg at night. This song made me feel warm inside, even though the coldest winter in 30+ years froze the outside. That song pretty much kept me sane when it was late and I couldn't get a hold of Becca. It makes me miss Rexburg, and BYU-Idaho. I loved that place. It also makes me think of dancing around my apartment excited because SOMEONE liked me. I didn't like him. I wasn't interested. But I was flattered, and there is something about having a guy like you that restores your confidence.
Cloudburst by Eric Whittacre
High school choir festival. We caught everyone up in utter AWE as we created a storm with our voices, hands, chimes, and sheet metal. That is one of my top moments of choir tour. I still feel chills when I listen to the recording. It reminds me of so many good times in high school. I loved the feeling of being a part of something incredible. I love the feeling of being a part of something huge and emotional and true.
How to Save a Life by The Fray
Sitting in Jewel's car as the windows fogged up in the back. Silly Scuba.Talking for hours. We would wait for the heat to escape the car to the point where we could no longer handle it. Then we would turn on the heat until we were again toasty. We'd turn off the car again, until we could no longer handle the cold. This was all to conserve gas. It was a crazy cycle, but we were so wrapped up in the conversation that it would not matter. Then in the summer sitting in her car in the Twilight as we would talk for hours.

My friend has recently discovered The Fray. He plays the cd and I get lost for a moment. I'm not sitting in his car. I am in Ferdinand the First and Jewel and I are talking about boys, life, and a number of dreams. It only lasts for a brief moment. Then I return abruptly to the present and reality.

There are hundreds of songs that take me elsewhere. I love music. It is how I relax. It is how I feel complete.

Music isn't just a sound. Its a place and a time. Its an emotion. A feeling. A single song can contain worlds.

Today was a good day. And I'm avoiding my school work.

2011-01-06T20:37:00.000-07:00

School. Ah!
The procrastination has already begun!
My computer has given up the ghost for various reasons. Not quite sure why. The computer man told me that it was because of my hard drive. Also my speakers suck. And in addition, they have to wait for parts to be in stock so that they can get delivered to the nice computer men. I don't know what parts these are (probably speakers?) but apparently they are very important. Oh nice computer men. Can't you just fix it like the techno geniuses I know you are?
*sigh*
At least its under warranty. Right? And I won't have to spend money. So yay!
But now I'm going to be spending quite a bit of time in the library using the computers here. Because I feel guilty stealing my roommate's computers.
See, here is the thing. Because I don't have access to my computer, I want to get on and check all the fabulous things that I check frequently. Like facebook ~~to stalk boys~~ to catch up on my friends. And all the blogs that I follow. And xkcd. So I get very distracted and don't do the work that I actually need to do.
Blackboard is also a very important thing that I need to use on the computer, but frequently gets pushed off into the distance because I forget about it...because I'm distracted. This distraction gets worse when I am far away from the computer for long periods of time.
But sometimes using the computers in the library are great. One of the physics lab TAs is sitting across from me. I totally had a crush on him. He wasn't super cute, but he had the prettiest blue eyes and he taught me physics in such a way that I didn't feel like an idiot for asking and could retain the understanding once he was gone. As opposed to the jerk that sighed every time you asked him something and did his darndest to make sure that you felt like an idiot for not understanding physics. He also really sucked at explaining things. I rated him very badly on the rate the TAs website. Revenge is sweet...bwahahahahaha.
Can I just say that I really like my major (biology science education)? I have to take really hard classes, yes. But I don't have to take the labs. I didn't even realize that there was a microbiology lab until one of the girls I worked with mentioned it. I didn't have to take the physics lab. I have to take hard classes, yes. But I don't have to take the SUPER hard classes. Or the stupid classes...
Also, I understand the stuff that is happening in my bio organic chemistry class. For the most part it is review, but we got into some of the new stuff. Which I understand. Mainly because I took a whole bunch of Chemistry classes (two of which I didn't need to take...*sigh*). Oh well! I comprehend! I also got the book and study guide for this class for $40. Instead of the $220 it was going to cost. HAH! I win.
I did Zumba again today. I also have a contemporary dance class. YAY! I am going to lose weight!...I hope. I have muscly thighs again though. After only two days (not counting the more than half of a semester of working out...just since the break...)! Weight loss has GOT to be around the corner. I know that weight loss shouldn't be the goal and you should just try to be healthy and blah blah blah...but I want to have nice slim forearms. And no neck fat. If I can get those then I will be happy.

Today was good though. I'm happy with how everything is turning out.
Life is good.
Now if you'll excuse me I need to do my homework.
And go back to the apartment and practice Bow the Knee for tomorrow's devotional. It's pretty much memorized...but not really.

In which Erin tries to psych herself up for school (and fails miserably...)

2011-01-04T11:49:00.000-07:00

Here I sit in the Harold B. Lee Library on BYU campus (I had to fight for a computer. Why is everyone skipping devotional?).
School started today.
I kind of want to die a little.
I want to moan and whine and complain (Erin. No one wants to hear you whine. Just shut up) and roll around on the floor kicking and screaming and throwing a fun little tantrum. The likes of which haven't been seen since I was five.
But I won't (probably). Because I am mature (sort of). Because I care what other people think about me (sporadically).
I have been feeling very immature about this semester. I really just don't want to do it.
I feel as though there should have been an extra week of vacation. Then I would (hopefully) be prepared to face the horrors that await me (maybe).
I dressed very cutely today in the hopes that it would steel me against the coming tidal wave of stress and insanity. It made me feel a little bit better, but even the cute flower thing that Jewel gave me for Christmas that looks so adorable in my hair couldn't stop the flow of angst.
But I understand everything that we talked about in my bio-organic chemistry class. So there is some hope anyways. I am going to have to study quite a bit this semester.
However, I still get to do choir. I am still living with some wonderful girls. I still have a job (that occasionally adds greatly to my stress...). I still have some amazing friends. I'm still going to do Zumba. And I'm taking a contemporary dance class!
So life is going to be good. I just need to calm down (unlikely), take a break (yeah...I need a break after two classes. This doesn't bode well) and stop freaking out (um...have you met me? The odds of this happening are less than stellar (Never tell me the odds! (oh Han Solo. I love you. You are the epitome of all things manly and great))).
I'm hungry. Perhaps I will go to Taco Bell and get some food that has no meat in it (because the meat Taco Bell uses has gluten in it. "How?" you may ask. Well. Because they reinforce their meat with gluten. Because they want to make my life miserable. Any other questions? "Why are you going to Taco Bell then?" Very good! Because they have cheap food. And I am trying to save money because my books are very very expensive. And I am (tragically) going to go to school during the summer so that I can (hopefully) graduate at some point in the near future. Also, I like fatty food. There is something so comforting about it. "Aren't you trying to be healthier and lose weight?" ...Next question please...
So here I stand (actually sit...) trying to brace myself against the upcoming onslaught (you know...like slaughter) that I face. I will emerge triumphant (I hope)!

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T21:37:00.000-07:00

I've got a good feeling about 2011.
I think it is gonna be a good one. I can feel it.

It is like this song.
But I will not be following his example and chasing down my lover's would be killer only to find out that she is alive and then getting shot and dying.
That...will not be happening.
Hopefully the lover part will though.
Whatever happens, I have a feeling it is going to be good.
2010 was a growing year for me. I have matured quite a bit. Which was so much fun. Not. But it really was an excellent year. I have no regrets about this year.
It was a whole heap better than 2009 which was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish. But we grow and learn and change. I won't be making any of the same mistakes in 2011 that I did in 2009. Thank goodness. And 2010 was just an interesting growing experience. From friends abruptly growing up and getting married, to my job getting a very emotionally draining, to stupid boys, to going to BYU and experiencing a level of stress which was anything but fun.
There were so many good things too. I honestly like BYU. I like the teachers and the campus. I have a good job with some excellent coworkers. I'm in choir with some of the most quality people in the universe. I figured out my major, and the rest of my life. I got to live with Liesl, who is a very good person to have in my life. I went to Hill Cumorah Pageant, which was a wonderful spiritual experience. I realized that I'm not supposed to go on a mission at this point in my life. I complain about it, but I really do like being really busy. It is comforting. I have guy friends again. Which I have missed out on. I like having a certain level of testosterone in my life. I have become really close friends with some wonderful people. I've become braver. I'm better at talking to people. Which is something I hoped for, but really never expected.
Farewell 2010. It was nice to be a part of you. But now I am looking towards the future, eyes bright with hope. Its going to be a fun one.

Happy Christmas! Take Two

2010-12-26T01:02:00.000-07:00

As soon as I posted the previous post I felt bad for it not being a jolly post filled with Christmas cheer. But I had a headache and it had entertained me. So I didn't care.
Since then I have taken a shower and repented of my ways.
So I am going to tell you a tale of Christmas Spirit and JOY!
Once upon a time Connoray and Manda Face were wounded with piercing darts of guilt.
Since that day, a plan was laid.
This plan involved daring. Cunning. Lies. Deceit. But it was all for the cause.
CHRISTMAS!!!!!
This was the plan. Simple and elegant in its inception. Sort of complicated in its execution.
We were going to take pictures of all of us kids.
Let me explain something.
Although my Marmie is an AVID scrapbooker (there is a basement full of stamping supplies if you don't believe me. The walls are lined with paper samples and cards. Really. Why aren't you believing me? Currently it is infested with my stuff, but the walls are still lined with stamp pads and pens and stamps. Oh my...) and takes hundreds of pictures, we haven't had a professionally done family picture taken...since I was about fourteen. So it is a bit outdated.
I will explain something else.
It is IMPOSSIBLE to get away with anything in my house. No. Really. The few times I have ever done anything remotely sketchy, I have been caught. Marmie should have worked for the CIA. Also my brothers cannot keep anything secret.
So this was going to be difficult. We planned a day.
It snowed.
The next day we HAD to do it because our photographer was leaving the next day to go to his cabin. So there we went.
If you have never tried to sneak out four button up shirts past possibly the most observent woman in the entire world while your Father is shouting at SamtheHam to, "Tell me what you're smiling about Sam! Tell me! Tell me!" It was almost like when he chased me into the street shouting at me to, "Tell me who you're boyfriend is Erin! TELL ME!" There was no boyfriend. And people down the street can hear you Dad. Actually I think orphans in China can hear you...
Honestly. There is no trust. A person cannot be happy without being harangued with suspicions.
So DanJay hid his shirt in his shirt. Connor wrapped his around his jacket, but didn't think that perhaps he should grab SamtheHam's or Joey's. So Sam had to run in, evade my very suspicious padre, grab the two shirts, and then wrap them in another hoodie. Never before has Connoray given up his clothing so easily.
These pictures were taken:

Aren't we precious? But...how uncharacteristically sane we all look...

Awwww we love each other! And I look very voluptuous.
Check out that waist!

Ah yes. This is more like it

I just love it. I'm eating DanJay who looks (understandably) frightened by this prospect. Joey looks like he's trying to be a Greek god. SamtheHam looks...stuffed? Like Jandi when she's eating something? Then there is MyMandaFace and Connoray. The piece de resistance! My Manda was sneaky and grabbed snow while we were all thinking of poses. Then when the photographer took the picture, she dumped the snow on Connoray's head. It exploded at the perfect moment.
I love these pictures. Especially the last one. I love my siblings.
I went and picked up the pictures. There were plenty of euphemisms and code words being tossed around.
Which was sort of my fault.
"The eagle has left the nest," came a text from me to Connoray as I departed to pick up the pictures.
"The cookies are in the oven," emerged after the acquisition of the pictures.
After that there was a host of them. My favorite was the lemon sequence.
"The lemon has been picked," and "The lemon has been squeezed," and "The lemon has been made into slush,"
This morning we got up and opened presents. It was nice. I got Firefly! Yesssss...
Then, once all of the presents were opened and my parents sat back on the couch sighing in relief.
We started to smile.
"Well that's it," my Marmie said happily.
"Wait. I think we're missing something," responded Manda Face smirking.
"Yeah. Something...somethings missing," I said with false concern and confusion on my face.
All the siblings affirmed this. Something was missing.
My parents looked confused. Amanda ran downstairs. She came back with two packages.
She handed the larger one to my Marmie. The smaller was handed to my father.
My parents opened their presents.
That was Christmas. Watching Marmie open her present. She looked so touched. Padre opened his and laughed (it was a picture of the funny one, for his office). Mom looked at all of the pictures so happily.
I do believe that we made her Christmas!

The best part was...they didn't suspect anything!
Bwahahahaha!

So, with that, Merry (this doesn't give you permission to go get drunk. Just FYI) Christmas. I hope it was a happy day.
Remember what is truly important on this day of days. It represents the day of our Savior's birth. It represents his life.
"Bring the hour that banished sadness, brought redemption down to earth" is a couple of lines from one of the songs that we sing in LDC. It is through Him that redemption is come. Someday sadness will be banished forever. Until that time, we have to remember that true happiness comes through The Son.
On this day of days we are allowed to remember the joy and happiness brought about by His birth.
It isn't about presents. It is about the gift He gave us.
It isn't about the food. It is about the love that He has for us.
It isn't about any of those material things. It is about the love and care that we give to others. To our Savior. Our family. Friends. Even our enemies.
And with that, I give you Love.
Love,
Erin Day

Happy Christmas! Here is a Funny Post! Or at least I think its funny...why don't you think it's funny? I...have no self worth now. I'm going to find someplace to cry...

2010-12-25T21:08:00.000-07:00

Happy Christmas. I am not saying Merry Christmas today because...Happy Christmas is so much more. Merry seems as though you should go off and get drunk and laugh. Happy seems to imply, "GO! Feel contentment and JOY! NOW!"
It also makes me think of Harry Potter. Which is always a fun thought process.
Recently me and my dearest Connoray have exchanged texts like, "What are the two errors within the Harry Potter series?" (We've actually discovered quite a few...heh heh...)
Or, "What does Harry Potter say after he gets off of the Hogwarts Express the last time in the first book?"
and, "Who is Marlene McKinnon?"
You know. Harry Potter trivia.
We are sick twisted nerds.

Today I ingested what amounts to an entire bag of clementine oranges. I am awaiting the stomach pain, and simultaneously trying to figure out how I can steal my sister's bag of oranges.

This will seem somewhat random and out of place, especially on this most jolly of holidays, but why not? It entertained me to write it down.

I always feel like I like people more than they like me.
I think one of my problems is that I am so enthusiastic.
Me: Hey! How are you!? I haven't seen you in ages! What are you up to?!
*I gambol around their feet like an over eager puppy*
They: Oh. Life.
Me: *loosing enthusiasm, but still trying to make happy conversation* Oh yeah? School? Work? Play? Give me something to go off of? Please?
They: Yeah...I'm dating someone. Thats fun.
Me: *seizing new topic like a floating piece of wood in a vast ocean of awkwardness* Oh yeah!? Do I know them? Are they cute? How long have you guys been dating?
They: Yeah. *Which I realize answers some of the questions. But not others. Just is something vague and nonspecific. It finally dawns on me that they want nothing to do with me*
Me: Oh. Ok...well. Um.
*we stand there looking at each other awkwardly. We who had been friends for such a long time, are now...very separate entities. That time apart made them too good for me. Now I want to crawl in a hole. I crave nothing more than the opportunity for self flagellation and to berate myself for the next three hours. "WHAT WAS I THINKING!? BEING INTERESTED IN THEM?! HAH! YOU FOOLISH AND NAIVE GIRL!"*
They: Yeah. Well. It was nice to see you. Bye.
*They rush off and leaving me stewing in a self conflicted pot of hatred for myself and the world*

Experiences like this are the main reason why I am an antisocial freak, or if I see someone I know in public I sometimes pretend that I don't see them. Because what if they don't actually like me? What if all the time that we spent together in previous years means nothing? They were happy to be rid of my acquaintance and now that they have finally shed me from their (apparently (I don't really have any definite information...)) infinitely better lives, there is no way that they are going to allow me back into their day to day activities.
All of this psychological trauma short circuits my brain and I usually end up pouncing on them anyways with more enthusiasm than normal, because I am trying to make up for the almost avoiding them.
Which starts the vicious cycle anew.

This is one of the reasons why I am completely riddled with self doubt.

Home

2010-12-23T00:36:00.000-07:00

I love my home.
I love my parents. I love my brothers. I love my sister.
Its so...lovely.
Today I went on a sisterly adventure with My Manda.
It was fun. We went to Olive Garden.
I had the soup, salad, and breadsticks. Yeah...that's right. I did...it was delicious. My stomach hurts now though.
Three months though. That is about how long I went without Gluten. It was worth it though. Mmmmm...
Then we went to Borders. Where I found this. I was seriously upset that no one told me about this sooner.
I have been somewhat obsessed with Firefly since that memorable Thanksgiving my senior year of high school. We basically spent the week at Anna's house watching the one and only season. And then Serenity. It is probably a bit dirtier than something I should watch. But I love it. My excuse is I watched it when I was younger and I didn't care about that kind of thing. Now I do...but I just can't give up Firefly...
So I'm getting it for Christmas. I was watching it after finals and I was laughing hysterically. It really restored my equilibrium.
So the one story that you KNOW you know nothing about finally is come to light and no one thinks that I might like to know about it.
But I went to Borders and I read it.
HAPPINESS!!!
And a little sadness. Book's mysterious past was always one of things about Firefly that you could count on. Now I feel a bit empty inside. It was a little anticlimactic. Not that it wasn't AWESOME! Just...now its really over. Firefly is over.
I'm happy to be home...which was the real point of this post. I got to do laundry. Me and my siblings have gone Christmas shopping. Which was super fun. We all bought presents for each other and used all of our top secret ninja skills to avoid each other.
I love Christmas.
There is just something magical about this time of year. Its the only real time that people allow magic in their lives. I wish that people let their childhood selves to the forefront more often. Its one of the few times of the year that people allow others to serve them. Its one of the only times of the year when people want to serve.

And then I danced around my house with my brothers singing and laughing and behaving in a manner most strange.

The Lovely End of a Long and Painful Semester

2010-12-20T11:34:00.000-07:00

Finals are OVER!!!!!!
My body keeps stiffening and freaking out because it has been trained to do so.
"HOMEWORKS GAH!!!!!...wait...it is Christmas break..."
Then I can relax my body piece by piece.

Honestly finishing that stupid semester was joyful.
I finished my final final and went home lighthearted. Even though my brain was exploded all over the JSB auditorium.
Then I started freaking out because I had to get ready for the Lex de Azevedo show, find a ride, look over the music because I didn't know it as well as I thought I did (although I did know Gloria really well...), and make a mad dash over to the Alpine Tabernacle because the Provo Tabernacle burnt to a crisp.
That was such a tragedy. I was one of the last people in that place. I was one of the last (well...of probably near two hundred people...) to sing in that building. It was so beautiful. All the beautiful instruments (a harp, a Fazioli piano worth about $100,000, timpani drums, the $1,000,000 organ...the list goes on...), the costumes, the personal belongings, the KBYU equipment. Gone.
But we carried on with the show. Even though I really didn't want to. But I did. I should get props and kudos for that. Even if I did it with less enthusiasm than I should have.
Sunday was the day that I was really looking forward to being over.
Once it was over...then I could really be free.
We finished our final Amazing Grace show, which was beautiful and amazing. Three Kings has never been that good before, Joy to the World had a expeditious pace, and the whole thing was quite lovely.
To everyone that came to support me thank you.
Then I went running to the back to change into my formal to get to the Provo Tabernacle Benefit Concert thing at the McKay Events Center.
As I was rushing about I tripped over a chair.
It hurt like the dickens. Then I realized that my two toes were bleeding profusely. So I went to the bathroom to try and clean them up. I failed. I got several paper towels soaked in blood for my troubles. But the wounds eventually clotted.
I tried putting shoes on. It was very painful. So I did not do that. I walked barefoot.
Trust me when I say it was the less painful alternative.
I'm afraid that my entire journey over to the events center involved me complaining. Then I stepped onto grass and the moisture oozed into my open wounds and stung like crazy. Then my choir friend scooped me up and carried me. I am not small. Not gonna lie, I was impressed.
I found a nice man to help me administer first aid.
After the show we went back and dismantled the set.
There was much bursting into song (mostly from the Gloria. Alleluia! Alleluia! Fear not Mary! GLORIA!!!!!).
We took down the mountains and killed many boxes. There was riding around on carts. There was singing songs that weren't Gloria based in an attempt to purge our minds, and many failures on that front. There was much hugging and laughing and dancing.
I love choir. I am so happy that I made all the sacrifices of my time (and sometimes my grades...) to go to LDC every day.

It is my place of sanity (well. In some cases insanity.) it is my happy place.

Now Sunday is over. This semester is done.
I'm so very happy. I can breathe. I can do laundry. I can laze about. I can watch TV. I can go home. I can play with my brothers! I get to play with My Manda! I can go Christmas shopping!
Merry Christmas everyone!
Much love!

2010-12-11T19:04:00.000-07:00

I finally have a new (free) phone. I can again receive texts. After a week of frustration and angst, I finally have a new (did I mention it was free?) phone. I was going to write a frustrated unhappy post about Verizon, but because they gave me a free phone and are giving me a refund on the stupid other phone I bought...I'll keep it to a minimum.
Tears. They work wonders.
Who knew?
On another note, my show is tomorrow, Sunday 12 and 19 at 6:00 and 8:00 both days.
It is going to be amazing. Come. See me. Support me. Love me.

I watched A Very Potter Musical last night at my friends apartment on his google tv.
It was awesome.
I made some awesome new friends that make me very happy. I'm not always good at connecting with people, and it makes the people that require no effort all the more wonderful! I have been so much better at being social and adept at being social. I still have so many insecurities though. I'm always afraid that people don't like me as much as I like them, or I am one of those people that is talking and everyone is just humoring them.
I've been getting better though.
But last night...sitting and talking with two people I have never really met before and just talking with them as though we had been friends for years. That was nice. Also with my other friend in the ward that I just connected with randomly.
Its nice.
I love having friends.

I really should do my laundry...I haven't had a good laundry day in a couple of weeks...but I only have a week left of school. Why should I? I can do that when I come home for reals...but I do like laundry. Clean clothes. The sitting around feeling as though you are accomplishing something (even though you aren't really). Its...nice. Very nice. Hm. Now I want to do my laundry...but alas. My day has been wasted. With the whole Verizon thing.

I am ready for finals to be OVER. Five to go. I haven't really studied for any of them. Reading days...snort. Yeah right. More like, "Oh! You don't have school today! Come to the institute for 5 hours and then we'll feed you pizza! What? You can't have pizza?...have some lettuce (on a similar note I made gluten free brownies yesterday. They are delectable. I have eaten half of a pan...I miss Zumba)." or "I'll have time to go to the Verizon place to get my new phone worked out..." two hours later you are completely dead to the world.

I will hopefully find time to study for all of my tests, find a time to sell my books back, prepare for my song in relief society tomorrow, go and see my dear friend Brianna in the Christmas Carol, do some very important reading, and eat...all within the next couple of days.

2010-12-06T16:22:00.000-07:00

I smashed my phone in my car door as my father was giving me a ride home.
Bad. Day.
Then my teacher essentially told me I was a bad student.
Bad. Day.
We talked about evolution and the gospel in my biology class.
Better day.
Which sounds odd. But when have I ever been normal?
Ever?
But talking about evolution made me happy.
"Do you believe in evolution?" is a frequently asked question.
I have blue eyes. I have an average height. I am very curvaceous.
You might have green eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes. You might be tall, average, or short. You might be freakishly skinny or fat. You might be Caucasian, African American, Hispanic, or Polynesian.
Somehow something mutated, and here you are. Looking completely different from the person standing next to you.
This is evolution.
So yes. I believe in evolution.

I know that isn't what you mean when you say, "Do you believe in evolution?"

It honestly doesn't matter what I believe. It is what you believe that matters. The evidence that we have right now supports the whole idea that we descended from apes.
But that might not be correct.
It doesn't matter.
Honestly. Scientist, as much as they like to pretend, don't know everything. We do not know everything.
We honestly know nothing. Its fun to try and figure out.
Descending from apes doesn't bother me.
Adam was the first of his race. He was the first man.
He had intelligence. He had a soul.
Adam was the first of his race. He was created in God's image.
We don't know how Heavenly Father went about creating things. We don't know what his processes were.
Maybe there was stuff that came before.
Maybe there wasn't.
Are you really going to let something like that affect you and your testimony?
Don't get hung up on the small things. Even if they are big things to others.

But Alma said unto him: Thou hast had signs enough; will ye tempt your God? Will ye say, Show unto me a

sign, when ye have the testimony of all these thy brethren, and also all the holy prophets? The scriptures are

laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the

face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that

there is a Supreme Creator.

Alma 30:34

Read your scriptures. Pray.

You'll know what is true. All the other stuff, its fluff. It doesn't matter.

Some of that is paraphrasing my biology teacher. Some of that is mine. Some of that is Alma.

So all of that cheered me up.

Then today after choir I got a wonderful hug from a wonderful person.

So that made me feel better.

And at work today, on of my coworkers came in with a hickey.

Life got better.

Genetics Sometimes Suck...

2010-11-30T21:54:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went to the BYU Celiac Club's Thanksgiving Feast.
It had pork sandwiches. On bread. There was some amazing Tomato Bisque Soup. Without flour.
There were giant sugar cookies...I may have eaten two...and taken some home. There were also cupcakes. I may have taken two home.
There were no anxious queries about what was in the barbecue sauce, or what brand it was.
There were no odd looks as I talked about my dietary problems.
I was with my own kind.
The few. The proud. The diseased.
My roommate Ariel (who is also allergic to wheat (it might be celiac. She isn't sure...) which is SO nice for me) and I went to this fantastic meal. On our way home in the frigid air, as we clutched our precious cargo--which consisted of rolls, food, cookies and cupcakes in doggiebags made out of plates and bowls--and our fingers froze, we giggled to ourselves at the joyous event that had occurred.
For those of you that are confused right now, I shall tell you now of my lifelong sorrow.

When I was around fourteen my Grandma George had been having some problems. I was generally oblivious (hello. I was fourteen. I had so many better things to worry about. Like my crush on a boy with very bushy eyebrows and a different crush on one of my best friend's boyfriend and all the ensuing drama. Oh yeah. Junior High. Its a big deal...), but there were some stirrings that caused me concern. My mom was talking healthy. Which isn't that strange because she is a dietitian. But it is cause for minor concern, because we already don't eat potato chips, drink soda (with the exception of my father), or use a whole lot of butter/margarine/vegetable oil. If something else got chopped, that would suck.
Oh. I laugh at my naive fourteen year-old self.
One day my mom picked me up from school. Which was strange. (Oh yeah. I'm sharp.)
I climbed into the van with all my other siblings and looked at them in confusion.
"What's going on Mom?" I inquired.
"You know that thing I was talking to you about a couple of weeks ago?" said she.
"..." was my oh so intelligent response.
"We are going to go get tested for celiac!" she said enthusiastically.
"Wait. What?"
"We are going to get our blood tested!" she replied happily. That is my mother. Trying to put a positive spin on things.
*death glare* went the typical teenager me.
We went to the hospital. Our blood was drawn.It wasn't a lot, but I was having my period and the next day in PE I almost fainted.
Then we waited.
Of course I was diagnosed.
Of course.

Let me explain some stuff to you.
Inside of your small intestine the lining is made up of these protrusions called villi and microvilli. These things are very important. They absorb nutrients and make sure that you get all the things into the rest of your body that you require.
When you have celiac disease the gluten basically erodes the villi and the microvilli. It is a bit more complicated than that, but I really don't want to go into that right now. This means that you have a smooth intestine. It also means that you don't absorb nutrients or other important things. Which means that you will eventually have problems.
This process is also very painful. Ouch.
Celiac is an inheritable autoimmune disease. About one in one hundred people has it. You probably don't know that you have it. If you have Irish heritage it is very possible that you do.

This. Is. A. BIG DEAL!
I don't know if I can get this across to you in such a way that you will understand this. But this is a big deal!
I didn't always think it was such a big deal, but as I have gotten older, it has definitely become more important to me. Perhaps I am not always so very cautious about what I eat, but I carefully weigh the consequences now. I like being alert and having no digestive problems. I like being healthy. It is very nice.

An angry moment that I had:
Last year in choir we were on tour. The meal was (surprise, surprise) pizza. (I was so happy the night that they went to KFC and got me my own gluten free box! IT WASN'T SALAD!!!!) But it wasn't Little Ceasar's. It was Pizza Hut. So the quality of pizza was definitely better than what the choir had been recently experiencing. One lad in choir came and sat next to me. I was irately stabbing at my salad (It was my third day straight of salad. I was less than happy).
"This pizza is sooooo good!" said he chomping down happily.
"Yeah. It looks good." I said looking at the pizza in a manner most lustful.
"Oh yeah! You can't have it. That sucks," he said with another happy mouthful.
"Yeah. It does," I stated bluntly.
"Mmmmm. This is soooo good," replied the boy pouring lemon juice onto a gaping wound, "To bad you can't have any."
I almost hurled my carbohydrate starved body at him and started to pummeled him.
"...I am going to go get an ice cream bar," I said as I left him to his happy food.

This is pretty much my diet.
I eat lots of corn (not just on the cob stuff. I mean like tortilla chips and tortilla's. It pretty much replaces my bread). I eat sooooo much rice (rice bread, rice noodles, brown/long grained/sticky rice). I eat cheese, and plenty of dairy things. Chex is a happy part of my diet. Lots of fruits and vegetables. I eat meat.
Soooo many things are no longer a part of my diet. Which can be a blessing in disguise. However.
It sort of sucks because when I actually can eat something, I tend to overdo it. Which is very foolish of me. I've actually noticed that about quite a few celiac people. When we can eat, we go to town.

This is a very long post but if you got through it then kudos to you! Go eat a cookie to make you feel even better about yourself.

Awkward Moment! The Sunday Edition...

2010-11-29T16:48:00.000-07:00

I make the programs for sacrament meeting. It is my calling. Its fun. I get to hunt people down and stalk them until they finally give me the names of people who are giving the prayers. Or who are speaking. Or what the songs are going to be. I hunt them down and pretty much live an action packed existence. I'm like that one guy on 24 who was in The Three Musketeers with Tim Curry.
All in the name of getting the programs approved before Saturday!
I usually have this very nice girl print them off.
However she was incapable of doing that this week. Thanksgiving and all.
So I figured I would do it. After all it was my calling. My responsibility.
So after some hassle I printed them off the night before. No big deal.
I got ready for church. I did my hair and it looked lovely and thick and straight. I was going to leave ten minutes earlier than usual, so that I could get there ten minutes before the beginning, so that I could get the programs out to everyone that needed them.
I left.
There was snow.
Lots and lots of snow.
Snow. All over my (parents who so kindly allow me to borrow it from time to time's) car.
Of course there was no scrapper within the car. It was probably in the trunk now that I think of it.
Oh well. I used my arms (carefully encased within my jacket sleeve) to wipe off three inches of snow.
My hair in this time was exposed to falling (wet) snow. Thus rendering my hair a bit frizzier than originally planned.
It was cause for mild mourning.
Then once I could finally depart, there were hazardous road conditions.
The sacrament programs are no worth my life.
Sorry.
So instead of getting there ten minutes early, I arrived...right on time.
With a large stack of programs. That no one in the congregation had access to.
So I stealthily went and sat next to my roommates Rachel and Ariel and Ariel's friend who is not my roommate in one of the side pews.
There was nothing else to do. I didn't want 90 programs. I started folding the programs. I passed some to the front. I folded some more and passed them to the back. My roommates started laughing.
"Quiet you!" I whispered emphatically. I looked the picture of a beautiful virgin martyr.
They started folding programs and continued laughing at me. I gathered my wounded dignity about myself and handed a large stack of folded programs to the girl in the center set of pews.
This was apparently too much for my roommates, who were laughing hysterically.
But the programs! They were being distributed. I could feel the penetrating angry laser beam glare of disappointment emanating from Brother Fuller lessening.
Then in one final move to rid myself of the last of those accursed programs, I took the very last pile of programs to the last row.
"Have some programs. Take them down pass 'em around!" I whispered cheerfully trying to not notice the look of annoyance the boy I gave them to.
I walked back up the aisle a bright shade of pink.
I sat back down, TRIUMPHANT!
My roommates were still laughing at me.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-26T22:56:00.000-07:00

...a day late.
I already wrote my list of things that I am grateful for in this post.
So I don't feel so very badly for not doing it.
I do feel badly about the fact that every time that I press enter on this computer it goes to the very beginning of my sentence instead of down to the next line. It still creates the space...just not in such an expeditious way as I would like.
Ah well. What can you do? Not a whole lot.
Thanksgiving was amazing. I got to see all my cousins. I got to spend time with my family. I made things. Like muddy buddies and stuffing. I played games with my cousins. I got to see my old roommate Kathleen and her husband.
I believe that about six of my former roommates are now hitched to their spouses. As married people are wont to do. Pretty much all of my best (girl) friends from High School are married. Those from the Pixie chapter of my life (with two exceptions). Jewel is married. There are a couple of girls that are not married.
Our unmarried numbers are dwindling.
In this post I expressed my incapacity to see myself becoming married to anyone. My inability to even see myself in a fulfilling long term eternal relationship with anyone.
That so is not the point. Although. If a certain boy were to come up to me and say, "Hey Erin, I think you are keen. Let us tie the knot and live happily ever after," I would probably be happy about it. Actually happy is not the word. Lets try ecstatic. Joyful. Incredibly elated at the strange turn of events. Unfortunately that is not going to happen. So let us ponder a different subject.
Like Thanksgiving! Which was wonderful. After the feast at 3:00 and the subsequent munchies that happen every time my stomach felt a slight relief and my brain decided that it needed more food. Or pie. I would gorge myself and then lie on the couch bemoaning my foolish decisions. Then do it all over again.
At least I still have one more week of Zumba to remedy all the eating...
I wasn't going to do a list of things I'm grateful for. But why not?
I am grateful for:
Zumba.
Robin McKinley's Outlaws of Sherwood. And Beauty. And Hero and the Crown. And how they are all completely different. With completely different writing styles. I'm pretty sure she is schizophrenic. But I love her anyways. All five of her.
I'm grateful that I can spell schizophrenic without spell check. BOOYAH!!! (is that how you spell that?)
Manda-Face. I love her. I love spending time with her (an occurrence all too infrequent nowadays), and spending hours talking to her about everything. I miss that. I miss us.
I am grateful for all the forms of communication that keep me in touch with all the people I love. Facebook, cellphones, computers. It is fabulous.
My wonderful grandparents. Who are so sweet and kind and loving. They give us so much. I wish I had a way of repaying them.

I have nothing else to write...so...
SCENE!