Sunday, July 31, 2011

weekly poem...

Dear Friend


Your bags were packed
and left at the door, the vase you
filled with shells, wrapped in tissue,
your books boxed. I have the whelk

you found on shore, the small conch,
intact—the point, the fine grooves—
and keep it in a box with a picture of you
at the beach: your hair slicked back,

head cocked at an angle.
Behind you, the green jacket
you told me to throw away. Strewn

over a chair, its arms dangle
above the floor—a hole in the pocket,
the elbows thin from years of use.
Blas Falconer

day 70...

a picture of my favorite place to eat...

Today, I pick Zupas. It is so super good. Really and truly, you always feel better after you eat there. Soups, salads, sandwiches, and the best of all? Chocolate covered strawberries. How could you not feel better after a cold, sweet, chocolatey strawberry? Happiness.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

day 69...

a picture of something I last purchased...

Pizza. It was good.

Friday, July 29, 2011


I got a little behind on the 90 days challenge thing, so I'm just going to pick it up here and start today at day 68 (I think it's 68...). Sorry about that! There's been a lot going on in the health area of life. All of the other areas of life, too, but the health area is causing some rough patches of trail. Shoulder to the wheel!

day 68...

a picture and a song to match your mood...

Lately I feel that I'm standing at the edge of...something, and I'm looking up at...something else. But like this picture, I cannot reach it. I can see what I want, just above me, but I can't get to it. I'm stuck. It's a discouraging feeling.

This song is how I feel right now. Yes, it's dramatic and self-centered and kind of despairing. I'm just being honest (note, because this song is rather dramatic, this song doesn't actually describe me, lol):


This is how I'm trying to be:

Sunday, July 24, 2011

weekly poem...


You can do great things,
and you can do terrible things.
But only you can decide
which of the two you will choose.

Will you be great?
Will you be terrible?
Will you be terribly great?
Or just great in small ways?

Two paths lay before you.
Time to explore only one.
The left path? Or the right path?
Try to dabble down the middle?

Hazy lines of great and terrible.
Yours the choice to make.
Not you mother’s, not your father’s.
Not friend’s or foe’s. Yours.

Will you be famous for good?
Famous for bad?
Or not famous at all,
Just living as people do?

You can do great things,
and you can do terrible things.
Yours is the choice to make,
be it small, large, or none at all.

Georgie K. Buttons

Sunday, July 17, 2011

weekly poem...

Dear Friend


Running down the stairwell in the garden,
I divide the steps by three, until my
foot catches the edge, wet with rain, and my
frame, flung forward by its own momentum,

leans into the night as if reaching
for something I didn’t know I
wanted. Not the moon. No. Not the sky,
suspended and limitless. Not even

the tulips standing on their stems
(their petals cup the air).
But in the streetlamp’s circle of light, I land

among them, broken.
My body can’t contain
itself, as blood burgeons in my hands.

Blas Falconer

Saturday, July 16, 2011

day 67...

a picture of my dream wedding...

Nothing is set in stone, concrete, or any other solid building material, but I'm entertaining the idea of getting married in the Salt Lake Temple in the spring time. Mostly because the grounds are gorgeous beyond compare. LDC was there in the spring on choir tour, and it was seriously one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life.

As for getting married, that's a long shot right now. Someday it will probably happen. Right now, I can wait. :)

PS I didn't take that picture. I don't have any of the temple grounds during the spring. I want to go up next year, now that I have a good camera. It's on my to do list.

Friday, July 15, 2011

undo it...

Some days, you just gotta blast Carrie in your room and sing along. It definitely helps, especially when you would rather be breaking something.

day 66...

a picture of an animal I'd love to keep as a pet...

Well, the animal that I REALLY want is a beagle. But since this is more of an-animal-you-wish-you-could-have-but-can't, I'm going to go with a sand cat. It is so cute! Look at it! I just want to pick it up and cuddle it.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

day 65...

a picture of myself from two years ago...

That sweater used to fit me. I still wear it, but now it's too big. My friend Chelsea said that a big sweater is better than a sweater that fits well, because "it's comfy, snuggly, and cuddly!" Not only that, but you can fit another shirt (or in my case, two) underneath it when it's really cold. Kind of like this past winter. So. Cold.

i'm not crying...

There is a scripture somewhere that says that some people are blessed with the gift of being able to weep. I don't really see how that's a gift, seeing as I may have it. It's hard to deal with, because everything makes me cry. And I mean everything.

Like the peanut butter commercial where the little boy makes his own sandwich and then tells his mom to check her purse, where she finds a sandwich for her that her son made.

Or when a beautiful chord of music is played.

Or when little Amy throws her arms around my neck and whispers "I will always love you" in my ear.

Or when a close friend compliments me on something.

Or when mom slices onions...not that that is an emotional thing.

Crying, to me, has always been a sign of weakness. I fought crying for years. For awhile, I could never cry. Ever. I used to every day during fifth grade. I'd come home from school and cry for hours. Sixth grade was a little better. Then, in junior high, I just decided that I wasn't going to cry anymore. Sometimes I would--usually it would be during school, around friends, because I could only let go when I was surrounded by people. *shrug* Whatever works, I guess.

During my senior year in high school, things changed. I couldn't help but cry sometimes, when I felt too much to keep it inside. Whether because of happiness, or love for my friends, or sadness that the year was ending, I let myself cry. I wasn't embarrassed by it either. It was just part of who I was, and my friends didn't care either. Well, most of them didn't care. Then last year, my first year in college, crying was okay too. In choir, at least one person ended up in tears nearly every class period, because the Spirit was always so strong. It just came with the territory of being a choir member.

That's changed for me. Now, I hate to cry. I especially hate it when other people see or hear it, because it does happen. Too frequently, I think. I've been fighting it a lot. It's bound to happen. I mean, with Jordan gone now (from now on he will be called Elder Raddatz. At least until he gets home), things are a bit emotional. Sunday great is it that he'll remember me in tears? And his brother...I as good as ran away from Jason because I was on the verge of breaking down completely.

Tears are close right now. Especially tonight, with Elder Raddatz in the MTC and the official countdown to two years has begun. That and getting some news that is rather painful, but somewhat expected. Some friendships can't last, no matter how hard you try, and no matter how much you love. I guess I love too much, so it hurts when people stop caring.

I'm proud of myself tonight, because tonight, I'm not crying.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

day 64...

my favorite picture of me and my best friend(s)...

Choir Tour 2010--Me and Jordan

Me and Jason at Jordan's farewell

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

day 63...

a picture and description of my idea of the perfect first date...

I'm copping out on this one. I really, really, really, really don't like dating. This will probably get me into trouble, but I prefer "hanging out". Dating is so hard for me right now, especially after what happened with me and Aries (he was at the farewell yesterday...I'm happy to report that nothing of interest happened, except that Jason was a very good bodyguard). For me, the idea of being alone with a man I don't know very well is terrifying. Even if I do know him, I don't want to be alone with him. Group dates, too. I don't like them, unless I'm really comfortable with the guy.

Now that I've confessed, I will tell you about two perfect first single dates. The first one was with Jason, when we went to a barbeque at his ward. We didn't know each other super well at that point, but we were friends. The best part was when we went for a walk around his neighborhood, and we got to talk a lot. I do remember that I said, "That's funny" waaaay too much during the conversation, which is something I've noticed I say when I'm nervous, but other than that? Perfect. It was only awkward when I noticed that I kept saying the same thing, and then I stopped so it was all good.

The second was with Jordan. He took me to a concert that one of our friends was performing in. We got stranded at UVU for a while because his family needed the cars for work, so we walked around and goofed off on the roof. It wasn't my first date with Jordan (neither was the one with Jason--we went to a play on our first date with another couple), but it was my first single date with him. It was also his first single date ever (the funny thing about that is that I was also his very first date ever, back in high school when he took me to Homecoming our junior year). The only awkward part of that date was when Jordan almost backed into another car. I thought it was hilarious. Jordan, not so much. He's not the best driver in the world. That's one area where I've got him beat!

Neither of those dates were the very first. They were the first single dates. Jason I'd known for about four months. Jordan I'd known for over five years. So...yeah! Don't get me in too much trouble for not wanting to date. It's just uncomfortable at the moment.

Monday, July 11, 2011

day 62...

a picture of something I ate today...

Mmmmm. Noodles. I'm so healthy.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

day 61...

a picture of myself and a description of my day...

Today was my best friend Jordan's mission farewell. He leaves for the Missionary Training Center (MTC) on Wednesday afternoon, where he will stay for about 9 weeks. After that, he heads out to Independence, Missouri, where he will complete his 2-year mission for the LDS church.

As for how the day went, it was emotional. Or more like I was trying very hard not to be emotional, for Jordan's sake and for his family. I spent the afternoon in the kitchen for the most part, making salads and keeping all of the platters and bowls full for his family and friends. It was good to be helping, and to be behind the scenes. I've never sent off a really close friend before. It is much harder than I expected it would be.

2 years. It seems like so much more time now than it did when Jordan and I would talk about his mission when we were in high school. It was almost like it would never happen, that he'd actually leave.

Tonight we said good-bye, and that's that. In three days he'll be gone. Jordan will be an incredible missionary. I'm so glad that he gets to do this. But to be honest...

I miss him already.

weekly poem...

Waving Goodbye

The world bends us to its purpose.
In the public gardens, we found
a “gazing globe” balanced
on a waist-high pedestal,
a silver ball a foot in circumference,
reflecting sky and ground,
ourselves as we stood above it.
We stared into its depths,
as in a crystal ball,
our faces large and wild,
arms and legs unnaturally small,
as if a spell were on the world,
or, finally, we clearly saw the world
for what it was: too brightly
shining, circular, unadorned.

Trees bent toward us, mere shadows
of themselves, their shadows
more substantial than the trees themselves.
The sky at one o’clock
a milky white, light-filled,
yet without sun or cloud. And beds
of tulips rising from the groundswell,
each one a little mouth.
I knelt beside you on one knee,
caught up in walls of air
I couldn’t touch or see, the outer world
around me wavering, as on a hot summer day.

We looked out to the future. Our future
selves. You stood dead center
in the globe and raised your hand to stop
the scene, your palm enlarging
until it dwarfed the tallest trees.
Then waving goodbye, we walked,
as a joke, backward and away,
farther and farther away—
the globe still gazing on us—
leaving ourselves behind
to live forever in that silver room,
to watch and spy on lovers like ourselves.
Elizabeth Spires

Saturday, July 9, 2011

day 60...

a picture of something I'm excited about...

My dear friend Daniel got married yesterday! He and Alana are so cute. And guess what? I caught the bouquet at the reception. Yep. Pretty exciting to me. After all, you all know how much I love flowers, and these ones? So beautiful. :)


You two really are adorable. May you be blessed with happiness and love for the rest of eternity. (((hugs)))

Friday, July 8, 2011

day 59...

a picture of a random item that I own...

I'm not even sure why I have this.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

if i die young...

"...bury me in satin. Lay me down on a bed of roses. Sink me in the river at dawn. Send me away with the words of a love song."

Have you ever heard the song "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry? Sometimes when I listen to it I close my eyes and imagine it. The imagery and feeling is, to me, beautiful and sad. It's like a Litmus Lozenge in the book Because of Winn-Dixie, the sweet mixed up in the sadness. That's what it's like.

day 58...

a picture of my favorite animal...

This is a red panda. They don't really look anything like panda bears. They look more like a cross between a raccoon and a koala bear to me. I've loved these little guys since the first time I saw one at the zoo when I was a kid. They're so cute and cuddly, and kind of different, you know? A lot of people have never heard of them, so it's a cool conversation topic when asking people about themselves and favorite animals come up. That happens with me--I'm known for asking strange questions, like this one: 'if you were in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and could only pick one kind of candy to fill a year's supply, what would it be?' or 'you're stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere, and you find one, and only one, restaurant--what is it?'. Weird. Anyway, back to red panda bears. They're cute. You should like them. ;)

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

it could happen to you...

"I don't know what my body's doing--I just live in it."
-Erin Haskell

So you know how you hear stories about things that go wrong with people's health? Usually the reactions are along the lines of--out loud--"Oh, dear, that's awful. I'm so sorry!" And then inside, sometimes you think Jeez, I'm so glad that's not me or sometimes, That'll never happen to me.

Well, I'm feeling kind of like that quote above right now. I don't know what my body is doing, but it sure doesn't feel very good. I finally went to the doctor today. I very much dislike going to the doctor. Dislike. However, after the last few days a blood test or exam looked a lot less painful than whatever is going on.

Now I've got some meds to see if they'll help. I really hope they do. If they don't, well. Let's just say it won't be fun.

day 56...

a picture of something that makes me happy...

Little kids make me happy. Especially these two. Precious.

Monday, July 4, 2011

day 55...

a picture of the last movie that I saw in theaters...

Last week my family and I went to see The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King on the special release night. We saw all of them, every Tuesday for the last three weeks. Man, it was incredible! I'd never seen any of the films on the big screen, and wow. Just wow...they really were meant to be watched on the big screen.

This picture is a sequence of shots of Faramir and Eowyn in the last film. This couple makes me giggle and smile because they are so cute. Really. They're just adorable. I love them. I mean, both of them are awesome characters, dedicated to their friends and families, their countries and their freedoms. They fight for what they believe in, and each of them has a very important part in the outcome of the war against Sauron. I'm glad that they cross paths, and that they find so much happiness together! It makes me smile so big that it hurts my face a little.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

weekly poem...

The Bridge

That there are things that can never be the same about
my face, the houses, or the sand, that I was born under the
sign of the sheep, that like Abraham Lincoln I am serious
but also lacking in courage,

That from this yard I have been composing a great speech,
that I write about myself, that it’s good to be a poet, that I look
like the drawing of a house that was pencilled by a child,
that curiously, I miss him and my mind is not upon the Pleaides,
that I love the ocean and its foam against the sky,

That I am sneezing like a lion in this garden that he knows
the lilies of his Nile, distant image, breakfast, a flock of birds
and sparrows from the sky,

That I am not the husband of Cassiopeia, that I am not
the southern fish, that I am not the last poet of civilization,
that if I want to go out for a walk and then to find myself
beneath a bank of trees, weary, that this is the life that I had,

That curiously I miss the sound of the rain pounding
on the roof and also all of Oakland, that I miss the sounds of
sparrows dropping from the sky, that there are sparks behind
my eyes, on the radio, and the distant sound of sand blasters,
and breakfast, and every second of it, geometric, smoke
from the chimney of the trees where I was small,

That in January, I met him in a bar, we went
home together, there was a lemon tree in the back yard,
and a coffee house where we stood outside and kissed,

That I have never been there, curiously, and that it never was
the same, the whole of the island, or the paintings of the stars,
fatherly, tied to sparrows as they drop down from the sky,

O rattling frame where I am, I am where there are still
these assignments in the night, to remember the texture
of the leaves on the locust trees in August, under the
moonlight, rounded, through a window in the hills,

That if I stay beneath the pole star in this harmony of
crickets that will sing, the bird sound on the screen,
the wide eyes of the owl form of him still in the dark,
blue, green, with shards of the Pacific,

That I do not know the dreams from which I have come,
sent into the world without the blessing of a kiss, behind the
willow trees, beside the darkened pansies on the deck beside
the ships, rocking, I have written this, across the back of the
sky, wearing a small and yellow shirt, near the reptile house,
mammalian, no bigger than the herd,

That I wrote the history of the war waged between the
Peloponnesians and the south, that I like to run through
shopping malls, that I’ve also learned to draw, having been
driven here, like the rain is driven into things, into the
ground, beside the broken barns, by the railroad tracks,
beside the sea, I, Thucydides, having written this, having
grown up near the ocean.

Lisa Jarnot

day 54...

a picture of the one thing I would bring
if I were stranded on a deserted island...

In the event that I got to plan that I was to be stranded on a deserted island, I would bring a 4-person 72 hour kit...complete with solar paneled desalinization water purifier. Solar energy = no electricity needed.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

day 53...

a picture of someone I think is hot...

Hayden Christensen. The man who made my junior high heart go pitter pat. To echo Jason, thank goodness I grew out of that phase. However...Hayden's still hot.

Friday, July 1, 2011

day 52...

a picture of my favorite sport...

I love dance. Whether I'm the one who is actually executing the movement or watching someone else, I love it. Ballroom dance is my very favorite style (although there are so many others that I love as well).

To express things through movement is beautiful. Taking an idea or feeling and displaying it through dance brings, for me, a feeling of freedom and peace. Watching someone does the same thing, when the movement and the music and the colors and lights combine together to create a spinning, whirling, jumping, twisting picture of life. It is especially incredible when you find stillness inside the movement, your own or another's.