Sometimes I feel like this lady.
And sometimes I feel the opposite of this.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The Lady I want to be
Sometimes I feel like this lady.
And sometimes I feel the opposite of this.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Refresh, remember, remind
I almost feel the need to apologize for the last post, but I won't. A. Because I think it's nitty and gritty and real (like the picture to the left) and B. Because I write very well when I'm sad, and that post is very well. BUT I no longer feel like that. I can't fault the post because everything I said was and is true, but at this moment I feel like nothing has taken that emptiness' place, nothing but possibility.
I have always felt like the Sunflower is the flower of possibility. It is a thought that has only formed recently, my love for Sunflowers, however, has always existed. Maybe it's that they have sun in their name, something we will never be able to stare at or touch, or maybe it's that they will grow anywhere (Las Vegas included, can you say freaking impossible?) or maybe it's the child in me that stared at the looming sunflower as a small sun in the sky, or maybe it's that they get big and tall (like me) so I naturally flock to them. They are the giants in the flower world, a species of their own, but so beautiful you know they hold their own against the most extravagant of roses. So today is a Sunflower day. Today is a day to look at tomorrow, today is a day to live, to laugh, to love, to refresh, to remind and to remember. Today is a day for love.
“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.” Mary Anne Radmacher
“When one realizes that his life is worthless he either commits suicide or travels.” – Edward Dahlberg.
“I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.” – Mary Anne Radmacher Hershey
And last but not least, because I had this experience the other night:
“It is solved by walking.” – Algerian proverb
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
One of those moments
It's one of those days. Where you have one of those moments. The life and death moments, the what the heck am I doing moments, the what really matters moments, the where is my life going moments, the sad moments where you feel human and crappy and like you should be somewhere, anywhere, else.
I hate these moments.
I hate the depressing weight you feel sitting on your chest. And what's worse is that you can't make it go away, it isn't a knot in your hair or a wrinkle in your clothes. It's not something that can simply be fixed. All you can ever do is push it away. Wait for something to take its place, work, boys, friends, books, distractions, anything. Sometimes something really good comes along, like Disneyland, or a really great boyfriend, heck maybe even a husband. But it always comes back because...well because it's life. We aren't meant to be happy and elated all the time, life doesn't work that way, and so people make vacations and have affairs and turn to alcohol and drugs and tv to get away from these moments. They throw themselves into things that make them feel good, sometimes that's something they can control, like work, or sometimes it's something that will simply numb them, like drugs or, for the less extreme, alcohol. But when you don't want any of those things you turn to even less extremes, tv, books, movies, stories. Because life sucks.
And that is how today smells. Like suck. Like a life sucking crap fest. Like mortality.
I hate these moments.
I hate the depressing weight you feel sitting on your chest. And what's worse is that you can't make it go away, it isn't a knot in your hair or a wrinkle in your clothes. It's not something that can simply be fixed. All you can ever do is push it away. Wait for something to take its place, work, boys, friends, books, distractions, anything. Sometimes something really good comes along, like Disneyland, or a really great boyfriend, heck maybe even a husband. But it always comes back because...well because it's life. We aren't meant to be happy and elated all the time, life doesn't work that way, and so people make vacations and have affairs and turn to alcohol and drugs and tv to get away from these moments. They throw themselves into things that make them feel good, sometimes that's something they can control, like work, or sometimes it's something that will simply numb them, like drugs or, for the less extreme, alcohol. But when you don't want any of those things you turn to even less extremes, tv, books, movies, stories. Because life sucks.
And that is how today smells. Like suck. Like a life sucking crap fest. Like mortality.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Please take one step to your left. Excellent.
I was talking with a friend yesterday and she told me the saddest thing I have ever heard, only problem is I had heard it before.
The day was glorious, beautiful, if not a little dull. I sat in my fifteen by ten office staring out my back doors at the cloudy sky. My hands itched to hold a new book, my back to lay in soft scratchy grass, my new shades on my face, the sun peaking out from behind tree branches. But I couldn't. So I asked if others were. "You aren't working today, please tell me you're outside reading a good book and soaking up that sun." I got a very grumpy. "There is no sun." Back. And I quickly found no one was. It was apparently only my dream. But another quickly followed when a friend of mine text me with a problem.
-"I'm thinking very dangerously." Naturally that catches my attention. Dangerously? Does she want to rob a bank? Does she want to go streaking? Is she going to light off fireworks? No. None of the above. She was thinking dangerously about a boy. She wanted to ask him out.
-"What do you think?" I think that over. What do I think? I come to the decision that I'm torn. Part of me says you only live once, and the other part says you're odds aren't worth the stress and heartache in asking. But she's adament. She even calls me at lunch so we can have a discussion, a thick debate. Very quickly she convinces me it's a good idea. I'm still hesitant, but other than talking about all the things that could happen I have no problem with her idea. I even start to get excited. We only live once, anything is possible, shoot for the moon, it's just one guy there will always be more. And then I start to think about my guy. My moon. And shooting for him. I get excited, I get nervous, I get excited again. And then that all dies.
-"My Mom says weight is a big issue in our generation and I would be depressed when he rejects me."
My heart sinks, stops, and stumbles to a start at half mass. I've heard it before, not put quite like that, but basically the same. My family says the same things. We aren't dumb. We know how the world works. Heck I think I get to see it more than anything with the stupid 'Singles Ward'. But with the kind of day it had been, the hope that had gone into this moment, and the dreams on the horizon it tears me apart.
I flop through the rest of the day and freak my family out at home. My Mother thinks I'm going to kill myself and sends first my sister into to cheer me up and then when that doesn't work, she sends in the big guns, the never fail guns: my father. He sits and and doesn't say anything. I just want him to go away. And then he pulls out his journal, a journal I never knew he had, and reads a recount of when him, myself and my older brother Spencer went to Moab when I was ten. It was adorable from his point of view, when that doesn't produce a smile he continues to go through the objects from his mission (something he promised we would do at some point) and finds a piece of old newspaper. He laughs while reading it, I turn slightly.
"This is a newspaper clipping of BJ from high school. Mom said she is in this picture." He points to a worn out black and white picture of a large group of students. I try to see her but can't. It isn't a very good picture. "I said 'Mom the circles are the ones I think are her' and then I circled this black guy, this black guy, this black guy and then this white guy." I laugh, hard and long. My Dad continues. "And then my Mom sent it back, 'Kenny! You circled three black men and a guy!'" I laugh harder, my Dads even chuckling at this point. "Yeah Mom, I was serious, you only knew me for what Nineteen years at this point." I stare at the crazy man I call my father, the man that.....is a nerd, a comedian, a joke, weird, hilarious and likes to sleep. The guy that...freaking knows what to do. The guy that my mother sends in when she doesn't know what to do. The guy that always stands up for me.
The guy that doesn't have a weight issue.
The guy I will forever love. And at some point, when the time is right, the guy that I will look for in a spouse. The nerdy, hilarious, odd, kinda weird guy. Maybe not the most obvious choice, but obviously the best.
The day was glorious, beautiful, if not a little dull. I sat in my fifteen by ten office staring out my back doors at the cloudy sky. My hands itched to hold a new book, my back to lay in soft scratchy grass, my new shades on my face, the sun peaking out from behind tree branches. But I couldn't. So I asked if others were. "You aren't working today, please tell me you're outside reading a good book and soaking up that sun." I got a very grumpy. "There is no sun." Back. And I quickly found no one was. It was apparently only my dream. But another quickly followed when a friend of mine text me with a problem.
-"I'm thinking very dangerously." Naturally that catches my attention. Dangerously? Does she want to rob a bank? Does she want to go streaking? Is she going to light off fireworks? No. None of the above. She was thinking dangerously about a boy. She wanted to ask him out.
-"What do you think?" I think that over. What do I think? I come to the decision that I'm torn. Part of me says you only live once, and the other part says you're odds aren't worth the stress and heartache in asking. But she's adament. She even calls me at lunch so we can have a discussion, a thick debate. Very quickly she convinces me it's a good idea. I'm still hesitant, but other than talking about all the things that could happen I have no problem with her idea. I even start to get excited. We only live once, anything is possible, shoot for the moon, it's just one guy there will always be more. And then I start to think about my guy. My moon. And shooting for him. I get excited, I get nervous, I get excited again. And then that all dies.
-"My Mom says weight is a big issue in our generation and I would be depressed when he rejects me."
My heart sinks, stops, and stumbles to a start at half mass. I've heard it before, not put quite like that, but basically the same. My family says the same things. We aren't dumb. We know how the world works. Heck I think I get to see it more than anything with the stupid 'Singles Ward'. But with the kind of day it had been, the hope that had gone into this moment, and the dreams on the horizon it tears me apart.
I flop through the rest of the day and freak my family out at home. My Mother thinks I'm going to kill myself and sends first my sister into to cheer me up and then when that doesn't work, she sends in the big guns, the never fail guns: my father. He sits and and doesn't say anything. I just want him to go away. And then he pulls out his journal, a journal I never knew he had, and reads a recount of when him, myself and my older brother Spencer went to Moab when I was ten. It was adorable from his point of view, when that doesn't produce a smile he continues to go through the objects from his mission (something he promised we would do at some point) and finds a piece of old newspaper. He laughs while reading it, I turn slightly.
"This is a newspaper clipping of BJ from high school. Mom said she is in this picture." He points to a worn out black and white picture of a large group of students. I try to see her but can't. It isn't a very good picture. "I said 'Mom the circles are the ones I think are her' and then I circled this black guy, this black guy, this black guy and then this white guy." I laugh, hard and long. My Dad continues. "And then my Mom sent it back, 'Kenny! You circled three black men and a guy!'" I laugh harder, my Dads even chuckling at this point. "Yeah Mom, I was serious, you only knew me for what Nineteen years at this point." I stare at the crazy man I call my father, the man that.....is a nerd, a comedian, a joke, weird, hilarious and likes to sleep. The guy that...freaking knows what to do. The guy that my mother sends in when she doesn't know what to do. The guy that always stands up for me.
The guy that doesn't have a weight issue.
The guy I will forever love. And at some point, when the time is right, the guy that I will look for in a spouse. The nerdy, hilarious, odd, kinda weird guy. Maybe not the most obvious choice, but obviously the best.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Done and Gone
It happened. And it was amazing. My Mumford and Sons experience:
Fantastic. But you know we dealt. THEN they didn't even start letting people inside UNTIL 8 pm. Lame. BUT we got a great seat up by the stage. 
Also amazing. And then we wait and wait and wait and wait. And some little guy comes on and plays a couple of songs and they were pretty good. And then FINALLY. The main men, the show stoppers, the hero's, my hero's, the beauties, the EVERYTHING. Mumford and Sons. And they play, oh how they play. The music flows from them like air, like they were made to do it, like it cost them nothing but a flick of their hand, like they weren't shattering my life with their beauty. It was amazing in ways I could never try and duplicate. And they played new songs, gorgeous songs that needed to be out so I could purchase them. Songs that I needed to play over and over again, digest them until they were things I knew, knew inside and out, knew what they wanted me to know, heard what they wanted me to hear, touched me in the way only they can. 
The lead singer, aka me and Jordans boyfriend. He was beautiful. AND he plays the drums. Yeah, he's got it going on. OH and they did a cover, and that cover was amazing, it was a song I swear I had heard before but couldn't place it. Now though, now I love it. Who cares who originally sang it, it has forever come out of this mans beautiful mouth. And for your viewing enjoyment, a little video from the night, it's of The Singer, Marcus Mumford, on the drums, yes that's right the drums, playing a new song that is absolutely beautiful. You will have to ignore A. the screaming fans, myself included, B. the crappy quality and C. The possibility of you passing out. Pleas enjoy your life and if possible: see these men perform.
To start, the concert ticket says the concert starts at 8 pm. I arrive at The Cosmopolitan at 6. They say I'm too early and no line has even started, Jordan gets on my case about being crazy, so we walk down the strip and hit up McDonalds come back before seven and bam HUGE LINE.
Fantastic. But you know we dealt. THEN they didn't even start letting people inside UNTIL 8 pm. Lame. BUT we got a great seat up by the stage. 
Also amazing. And then we wait and wait and wait and wait. And some little guy comes on and plays a couple of songs and they were pretty good. And then FINALLY. The main men, the show stoppers, the hero's, my hero's, the beauties, the EVERYTHING. Mumford and Sons. And they play, oh how they play. The music flows from them like air, like they were made to do it, like it cost them nothing but a flick of their hand, like they weren't shattering my life with their beauty. It was amazing in ways I could never try and duplicate. And they played new songs, gorgeous songs that needed to be out so I could purchase them. Songs that I needed to play over and over again, digest them until they were things I knew, knew inside and out, knew what they wanted me to know, heard what they wanted me to hear, touched me in the way only they can. 
The lead singer, aka me and Jordans boyfriend. He was beautiful. AND he plays the drums. Yeah, he's got it going on. OH and they did a cover, and that cover was amazing, it was a song I swear I had heard before but couldn't place it. Now though, now I love it. Who cares who originally sang it, it has forever come out of this mans beautiful mouth. And for your viewing enjoyment, a little video from the night, it's of The Singer, Marcus Mumford, on the drums, yes that's right the drums, playing a new song that is absolutely beautiful. You will have to ignore A. the screaming fans, myself included, B. the crappy quality and C. The possibility of you passing out. Pleas enjoy your life and if possible: see these men perform. -----The video won't post. Sorry. Just use your imagination.
UPDATE: I found the song I wanted to posted, on youtube of all places, weird. It's HD and everything (Coachella broadcast every ones shows live, genius). So the sound is amazing and you can pretty much see how perfect they all are. But I do want to say...I think they played better for me in Las Vegas. Enjoy.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Mumford and Sons
It is here. The big day is here. The huge day. The...most awesome day of all time. I'm freaking excited!
I've been listening to M&S for the past two days, nonstop. And it just pumps me up more.
Ofcourse now I have to make sure the ticket I bought isn't a fake. Lame. But even if it is I told Jordan I'd give her twenty bucks and she could go watch a movie and I would stay at the concert. Win, win. Minus ninety bucks. Live and learn I guess. I knew I should have bought two. That was me being dumb...and cheap.
So happy friday. And if you have a few moments go and listen to this. And that's LIVE. Man I'm jazzed. See you tomorrw blog world!
I've been listening to M&S for the past two days, nonstop. And it just pumps me up more.
Ofcourse now I have to make sure the ticket I bought isn't a fake. Lame. But even if it is I told Jordan I'd give her twenty bucks and she could go watch a movie and I would stay at the concert. Win, win. Minus ninety bucks. Live and learn I guess. I knew I should have bought two. That was me being dumb...and cheap.
So happy friday. And if you have a few moments go and listen to this. And that's LIVE. Man I'm jazzed. See you tomorrw blog world!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Running and rapers
I was with some friends the other night and one of them started to get nervous, because of the late hour, that something was going to happen to us. She reminded us about the raper that was been in the area and that maybe we should hurry things along. Well A. we were in the church parking lot, and B. there was four of us, and one of them was a guy.
To say the least I didn't take her serious.
And to add to it I was driving home with my other friend and both of us agree, we are on the bottom of the list for rape...I would also like to throw kidnapping in there simply because I don't think I will get kidnapped. And even If I did I'm a pretty savy fighter so my fear is pretty low. Now I'm not dumb, or suicidal, I still take my phone out with me whenever I leave the house to jog or exercise at night, and I always stay in familiar areas but I don't refuse to leave the house or the safety of my car at night because I'm scared.
Well irony of ironies has come about. I have to pick up a ticket from a stranger. Someone I have never met and suddenly I'm nervous. I'm not going to this persons house, we are meeting at the Palms for goodness sake but who knows? Maybe he's crazy. People have gotten snatched out of parking lots before. I have had to talk myself out of taking someone with me about a dozen times. I would just feel so freaking wimpy if I did that. And there you have it. If I die or end up on the news as a kidnap victim I hope this gets read at all the Elementary schools "safety and strangers" assemblies.
To say the least I didn't take her serious.
And to add to it I was driving home with my other friend and both of us agree, we are on the bottom of the list for rape...I would also like to throw kidnapping in there simply because I don't think I will get kidnapped. And even If I did I'm a pretty savy fighter so my fear is pretty low. Now I'm not dumb, or suicidal, I still take my phone out with me whenever I leave the house to jog or exercise at night, and I always stay in familiar areas but I don't refuse to leave the house or the safety of my car at night because I'm scared.
Well irony of ironies has come about. I have to pick up a ticket from a stranger. Someone I have never met and suddenly I'm nervous. I'm not going to this persons house, we are meeting at the Palms for goodness sake but who knows? Maybe he's crazy. People have gotten snatched out of parking lots before. I have had to talk myself out of taking someone with me about a dozen times. I would just feel so freaking wimpy if I did that. And there you have it. If I die or end up on the news as a kidnap victim I hope this gets read at all the Elementary schools "safety and strangers" assemblies.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
A reasonably priced ticket
I am on the hunt for a reasonably priced ticket. Possible you say? Not. The tickets were originally $35.00 and that's how much I bought mine for. Well being the idiot I am I didn't buy a second. Why? Cause no one wanted to go with me but now well people want to go but I have no second ticket and the concert is now sold out. What that means for me? Triple prices on the tickets, if I'm lucky. I have now posted asking for a ticket for around $75 (not gonna happen) but I have also emailed people for tickets all around $100 (hope they still have them). So now I wait. Am I willing to go higher? Yes. Why? Because the ticket is for my sister and....well I'm a sucker for my sister. And everyone should have the chance to see Mumford and Sons in concert.
ALSO!!
I have a theory going. Wait for it.....I'm lucky.
No wrong word. I'm...blessed.
In the little things. This concert for one, remember this post?, and then I got to go to Disneyland and I was running late to church last week and I STILL made the sacrament (they usually get to that post haste) and just...well little things. I love it. So now I am on this little endeavour and we shall see how it all turns out. I'm so excited!
Hopefully I didn't just jinx myself.
ALSO!!
I have a theory going. Wait for it.....I'm lucky.
No wrong word. I'm...blessed.
In the little things. This concert for one, remember this post?, and then I got to go to Disneyland and I was running late to church last week and I STILL made the sacrament (they usually get to that post haste) and just...well little things. I love it. So now I am on this little endeavour and we shall see how it all turns out. I'm so excited!
Hopefully I didn't just jinx myself.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Unhealthy habit
Ever just say 'screw it'? Ever? Not even in a 'I'm going to forget about everything I have been taught in life and go on a drunken coked out murder rampage while naked' but in a 'let's go look at that one guys profile'. You know the guy. The one that "got away". I hate that term. It's dumb. And this post has alot of quotation marks, also unhealthy. Anyway I have this boy. I don't know if he ever got away because I really never got him. But he is very special to me because...well because I just really liked him. And I have this thing where if I liked you long enough and thought you were amazing enough, even if NOTHING ever happened, I will always hold that little part inside of me. That part that liked you.
So this boy Jason*, I liked allot. But we met in unfortunate circumstances (he was on his mission aka married to the Lord, literally. More unavailable than if he really was married) and so we were simply friends. But we were really really good friends. Like really good. As in...unnaturally good. Or maybe that was just me. But he came to our house A LOT. And we're members. So he didn't need to come to our house so much. But he did and I saw how funny and spiritual and nice and decent and amazing he was and I slowly grew a little crush that just kept growing and growing (because the Lord was in on it and he didn't move for FOUR FREAKING MONTHS) until one day I looked at him and well went all gooey eyed. And it was just bad.
So finally he got transferred well low and behold he was zone leader so he came by with the new guys. Nice thanks Jason. And then he came by again (and this was awesome because the new missionaries NEVER CAME BACK until this time) and then one last time and it was literally his last time. He came by to have us sign his journal because he was moving far away and wouldn't be able to visit. Well I was having a bad day and was held up in my room stinky, no shower, in bum clothes, didn't plan on moving for as long as possible and bam Jason's saying he won't leave until I come sign his journal. Well I was stubborn and said I wasn't coming out. And then Jordan called me out to the fact that you know I liked this guy and he was leaving and I could throw my email address in his journal and he could look me up after his mission. So finally after a couple minutes of inner debate (no, I didn't take the time to put on some make up or fix my hair I debated on going out there[and yes he really was waiting]) I finally went and he looked beautiful and I felt dumb but I signed his journal and I tried to make it funny and yes I did put my email address down. And my swanky mom managed to snag his as well and then he was gone.
And...suddenly I don't feel like finishing this story. It doesn't have a happy ending. It...he never got back to me. I emailed him and he never said anything and he never emailed me and then one day I found him on fb (yes I was looking) and I added him and he still, he never talks to me. And now I'm serving my mission forty miles from where he lives and I don't have the heart to tell him.
I had given up on him. Waiting and waiting, hurting, pining for him, hating myself because I thought I wasn't good enough. Until I finally said: no more, I can't keep hurting for this man. And then the dreams started. I never once dreamed of Jason while he was here or while I was hurting for him. It wasn't until after I gave him up that I had a dream and it was a bad one. He was mean to me. Horribly, horribly mean. Called me names and said what was wrong with me and why he would never want me. And it just opened up the can of worms all over again. I was hurt, hurt almost as much as if he would have said it to me himself, and then I was just mad. So mad I had half a mind to tell him off on fb. But I didn't. I somehow controlled the urge to throttle him and slowly I got over him again. I focused on my mission and where the lord wanted me to be. And life was good again.
And now! Now I'm forty miles from his freaking house! What. the. eff. Why?!?!? WHY!?!?!? And to top that all off I just had another dream. But this time it was a marriage dream. He wanted to marry me. He was engaged and saw me and decided to leave his boo thang for me. What is this?? Is this some sort of growing experience? Some sort of...torture? I mean if this is some amazing way of bringing us together than yeah cool awesome but if not....well than it is just rude.
SO the point of the story and then the rant is because this morning I woke up and decided a year a half of my life was pointless and checked out pictures of Jason. And he looked wonderful. And now I'm sad. The end.
*names have been changed.
So this boy Jason*, I liked allot. But we met in unfortunate circumstances (he was on his mission aka married to the Lord, literally. More unavailable than if he really was married) and so we were simply friends. But we were really really good friends. Like really good. As in...unnaturally good. Or maybe that was just me. But he came to our house A LOT. And we're members. So he didn't need to come to our house so much. But he did and I saw how funny and spiritual and nice and decent and amazing he was and I slowly grew a little crush that just kept growing and growing (because the Lord was in on it and he didn't move for FOUR FREAKING MONTHS) until one day I looked at him and well went all gooey eyed. And it was just bad.
So finally he got transferred well low and behold he was zone leader so he came by with the new guys. Nice thanks Jason. And then he came by again (and this was awesome because the new missionaries NEVER CAME BACK until this time) and then one last time and it was literally his last time. He came by to have us sign his journal because he was moving far away and wouldn't be able to visit. Well I was having a bad day and was held up in my room stinky, no shower, in bum clothes, didn't plan on moving for as long as possible and bam Jason's saying he won't leave until I come sign his journal. Well I was stubborn and said I wasn't coming out. And then Jordan called me out to the fact that you know I liked this guy and he was leaving and I could throw my email address in his journal and he could look me up after his mission. So finally after a couple minutes of inner debate (no, I didn't take the time to put on some make up or fix my hair I debated on going out there[and yes he really was waiting]) I finally went and he looked beautiful and I felt dumb but I signed his journal and I tried to make it funny and yes I did put my email address down. And my swanky mom managed to snag his as well and then he was gone.
And...suddenly I don't feel like finishing this story. It doesn't have a happy ending. It...he never got back to me. I emailed him and he never said anything and he never emailed me and then one day I found him on fb (yes I was looking) and I added him and he still, he never talks to me. And now I'm serving my mission forty miles from where he lives and I don't have the heart to tell him.
I had given up on him. Waiting and waiting, hurting, pining for him, hating myself because I thought I wasn't good enough. Until I finally said: no more, I can't keep hurting for this man. And then the dreams started. I never once dreamed of Jason while he was here or while I was hurting for him. It wasn't until after I gave him up that I had a dream and it was a bad one. He was mean to me. Horribly, horribly mean. Called me names and said what was wrong with me and why he would never want me. And it just opened up the can of worms all over again. I was hurt, hurt almost as much as if he would have said it to me himself, and then I was just mad. So mad I had half a mind to tell him off on fb. But I didn't. I somehow controlled the urge to throttle him and slowly I got over him again. I focused on my mission and where the lord wanted me to be. And life was good again.
And now! Now I'm forty miles from his freaking house! What. the. eff. Why?!?!? WHY!?!?!? And to top that all off I just had another dream. But this time it was a marriage dream. He wanted to marry me. He was engaged and saw me and decided to leave his boo thang for me. What is this?? Is this some sort of growing experience? Some sort of...torture? I mean if this is some amazing way of bringing us together than yeah cool awesome but if not....well than it is just rude.
SO the point of the story and then the rant is because this morning I woke up and decided a year a half of my life was pointless and checked out pictures of Jason. And he looked wonderful. And now I'm sad. The end.
*names have been changed.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Failing at life
I feel like I'm failing at life right now. I'm trying to accomplish three things.
Lose weight.
Prepare for the mission.
Finish your life here and don't screw up.
I'm failing at all three.
I'm not preparing for the mission as well as I wish I was.
I'm NOT losing weight.
And even though I haven't technically screwed anything up I'm not succeeding and that generally feels the same as screwing things up. AND I can't write to save my life. I have things I want to say but I just can't. I can't write happiness. I think I said that in my first blog. I'm just not good at it. The warmth that comes from happiness never seems to spread to paper/computer screens.
Fail.
Sucks.
Lame.
AND Mumford and Sons is coming on Friday and I'm not even as excited as I could be because I'm going alone. That's embarrassing. But I'm still going. Cause...well cause It's Mumford and Sons. I'm not going to throw that goodness away.
Lose weight.
Prepare for the mission.
Finish your life here and don't screw up.
I'm failing at all three.
I'm not preparing for the mission as well as I wish I was.
I'm NOT losing weight.
And even though I haven't technically screwed anything up I'm not succeeding and that generally feels the same as screwing things up. AND I can't write to save my life. I have things I want to say but I just can't. I can't write happiness. I think I said that in my first blog. I'm just not good at it. The warmth that comes from happiness never seems to spread to paper/computer screens.
Fail.
Sucks.
Lame.
AND Mumford and Sons is coming on Friday and I'm not even as excited as I could be because I'm going alone. That's embarrassing. But I'm still going. Cause...well cause It's Mumford and Sons. I'm not going to throw that goodness away.
My Wound
I have a wound on my hand today. My left hand to be exact. And this wound I wear with pride. Allot of pride. It isn't that much of a wound. The upper palm, right below my fingers, is swollen and tender. How did I get such a weird wound you ask. Easy, baseball.
Amazing baseball.
Baseball with my Dad. Baseball I haven't played with my Dad in years. It was magical.
So today I wear the wound with pride. And the second this wound is gone and I can catch balls again you will find me at the park playing. Because I'm 88 days and counting. And that my friend means baseball with my Dad, magical baseball that ended at the tender age of thirteen when I showed I was too wimpy to actually catch the ball, is back on. 88 days of the sport I didn't know I loved. But most importantly: 88 days with my Dad.
Amazing baseball.
Baseball with my Dad. Baseball I haven't played with my Dad in years. It was magical.
So today I wear the wound with pride. And the second this wound is gone and I can catch balls again you will find me at the park playing. Because I'm 88 days and counting. And that my friend means baseball with my Dad, magical baseball that ended at the tender age of thirteen when I showed I was too wimpy to actually catch the ball, is back on. 88 days of the sport I didn't know I loved. But most importantly: 88 days with my Dad.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Engaged
Is it wrong that I hate that word?
That it sends shocks of disgust and longing through my body?
That, since I have been called on a mission, it has become a word that I throw to the back seat? That I forget about, and instead think of skirts and books of mormon and spirit touched investigators?
Maybe I'll just pretend I'm engaged to my mission.
.....I need engagement pictures....
That it sends shocks of disgust and longing through my body?
That, since I have been called on a mission, it has become a word that I throw to the back seat? That I forget about, and instead think of skirts and books of mormon and spirit touched investigators?
Maybe I'll just pretend I'm engaged to my mission.
.....I need engagement pictures....
Monday, April 4, 2011
“Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary: use words.”
St. Francis of Assisi said that. It blew my mind.
Watch conference people (if you haven't already).
Beautiful words are spoken there.
Have a great week.
Watch conference people (if you haven't already).
Beautiful words are spoken there.
Have a great week.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
My Grandma is my home girl
That was a lie. Cause she is so much more than that. She's amazing. I went to visit her today. It had been a couple weeks and I wanted her opinion and honestly it was kind of a miracle I got over to her because I have not been feeling down to do anything that involved me having to be active, participate, or didn't include food (it's been a rough couple weeks). So I show up, and play with my rad baby cousin and then the house kind of clears out (perfect setting, also unexpected given that I went with two other people and she lives with four other people [all of whom should have been there]) and I start my....expedition. "I need your advice..." I always want her advice. Cause she's perfect. She's lived through so much, she's one of the strongest ladies I know, and she takes everything in stride. She isn't judgemental and she's very kind about her advice. And so we get through my question. And I sit there and she asks me about a going away party and when I'm suppose to go to the temple and when my farewell is and when my talk is and how my family is doing and where my boundaries are and if there is a temple in Oklahoma. And I sit there and answer her questions and she just starts talking and talking. Which was odd my grandma is usually the listener. And I just let her talk and talk and talk and plan and want things and congratulate me. And I start to tear up a little and I don't know why but suddenly I feel very small and very venerable and I want her to stop and I try to get her to stop but she doesn't she's so excited and happy and nervous for me. And then she looks at me and says "You've done enough. The Lord has your back and I have your back and I want to do this." And I tell her that isn't necessary but she is adamant and talks about how I can't do it all. And she keeps talking and talking and I'm listening I really am but I don't remember what she said because all I can think about is how she has my back and how the Lord has my back and how....how I didn't want to be vulnerable, I didn't want to be weak. But the tougher I tried to be, the more I hardened my heart, the less I let the Lord in. And suddenly I can fix how I feel and I get back on track and no it wasn't going to be easy but I would be relying on the Lord and he would be there for me. And that was better than being hard. And I thank her again and again and again and she says she wanted to plan the party and I smile a little and tell her how much more she has done for me. But she doesn't understand and I all I can do is thank her. So again I say: Grandma you are my home girl. You are my counselor. You are my friend. And you are one of the strongest people I know.
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