Wednesday, February 29, 2012
on this leap day...
Today may have been the hardest day of the year yet. Perhaps it's because it was an extra day. I don't know. However...here's a good reminder for all of the rest of the days this year:
And now, I really hope that next Leap Year BYU will arrange a campus wide game of leap frog. It's number one on my wish list.
Monday, February 27, 2012
hit the floor...
No, I am not talking about dancing. In fact, dancing is one of the absolute last things that I want to do right now.
What I'm talking about is the moment when it all becomes too much, when you can't stand the weight any longer, and even prayer doesn't take the pain away anymore. It's the moment when the emotions and thoughts you've been holding back become too large to hold onto.
It's the bag of stones you carry, each one labeled with words like fear, guilt, shame, ugly, failure, pain, lies, forgotten, impossible, nothing. It's now so heavy that all you can do is crumple to the floor under the weight as the seams begin to split, stones tumbling about, leaving marks in your shins as they knock into you on the way to the ground.
What I'm talking about is the moment when it all becomes too much, when you can't stand the weight any longer, and even prayer doesn't take the pain away anymore. It's the moment when the emotions and thoughts you've been holding back become too large to hold onto.
It's the bag of stones you carry, each one labeled with words like fear, guilt, shame, ugly, failure, pain, lies, forgotten, impossible, nothing. It's now so heavy that all you can do is crumple to the floor under the weight as the seams begin to split, stones tumbling about, leaving marks in your shins as they knock into you on the way to the ground.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
innocence...
She carried a bag on her shoulders, a large bag, almost full to the brim. The objects' outlines were pressed against the cloth, rough and rather awkward looking. I watched her from my bench as she trudged up the hill towards me, sometimes stumbling along the path under the weight of her load.
I watched her as she paused to shift the bag, wincing as though something sharp dug into her shoulder. Realizing how incredibly heavy her burden must be, I put my book into my bag and went to offer my help.
As I approached her, I called out a greeting. She acknowledged me with a nod of her head, but kept her eyes downcast and walked slowly onward. I fell in step beside her, my curiosity growing by the second. What was in that bag, I wondered, and why was she carrying something so frightfully heavy?
"What's in the bag?" I asked her.
She kept her eyes on the path before our feet, not answering right away. A few moments later, she responded in a quiet voice, "Words."
"Words?" I asked, surprised, "How do you carry words?"
She shrugged, wincing again as the weight shifted, "You just carry them."
"Oh," I was puzzled, "Are they heavy?"
She nodded slowly.
I thought about this as we walked again in silence. I asked another question, curious by her reply, "How can words be heavy?"
Another small shrug, "They just are."
I didn't believe her. "But there are lots of words in my book! More words than in your bag, I bet, and my book isn't heavy! See? My bag is light."
She smiled and laughed, a sad little laugh that made me feel sad, too.
"I'm glad that your words aren't heavy, little one. I hope that your words stay in your books for a long while yet."
I was frustrated now. Words weren't heavy! I wanted to know what was really in her bag.
"Come on, let me see the words!" I said.
I was surprised to see a look of fear cross her face. She held the bag closer to her and shook her head forcefully. She began to walk as fast as her load would let her, the objects knocking against one another inside the bag. But the weight was too much. She tripped and her grip on the bag slipped. It hit the ground with a loud thud. Out spilled the objects.
With a cry she began to gather up the objects, trying to shield them from my view. But I had already seen them.
They were stones. Not little stones that you toss into the river or skip across the lake or put in your pocket on a walk, but big stones; stones you would use to make giant splashes with wide, wide ripples in the water.
I bent and picked one up. She reached out to me and said in a high, thin voice, "Please. Give that to me."
I studied it, then looked into her face. Her eyes were full of sorrow. I'd never seen eyes like that. So very sad--and lost and tired, too. And afraid.
I looked back at the stone.
"There's writing on it," I said.
She nodded, "Yes, little one. There is writing on it."
"Are there writing on the other ones, too?" I asked.
A sob escaped from her, but she smiled through the tears now streaming down her face and said, "Yes. Yes-on all of them."
I handed the stone to her and watched as she put it back into the bag. I helped her put the rest away. Each stone did have a word on it, words like fear, guilt, shame, ugly, failure, pain, lies, forgotten, impossible, alone, nothing. There were so many stones. So many stones that she carried.
She left me standing alone on the path. I watched her go, thinking about all of the stones. But now, her bag was a little lighter. When she wasn't looking, I had placed my book inside her bag, a book full of words that weren't heavy.
The stone in my hand was a heavy stone, large and rough. On it a word was written, one that I had never associated before with weight. But it was a heavy stone, and a heavy word. I studied it, thinking about what I had gained that day by meeting the woman on the path.
Carefully placing the stone into my now empty bag, I swung it onto my back. I looked over my shoulder at the path behind me. The woman was nowhere to be seen. I began the walk home, feeling the heaviness of the stone against my shoulders. Aloud, I whispered a word:
"Knowledge."
.
I watched her as she paused to shift the bag, wincing as though something sharp dug into her shoulder. Realizing how incredibly heavy her burden must be, I put my book into my bag and went to offer my help.
As I approached her, I called out a greeting. She acknowledged me with a nod of her head, but kept her eyes downcast and walked slowly onward. I fell in step beside her, my curiosity growing by the second. What was in that bag, I wondered, and why was she carrying something so frightfully heavy?
"What's in the bag?" I asked her.
She kept her eyes on the path before our feet, not answering right away. A few moments later, she responded in a quiet voice, "Words."
"Words?" I asked, surprised, "How do you carry words?"
She shrugged, wincing again as the weight shifted, "You just carry them."
"Oh," I was puzzled, "Are they heavy?"
She nodded slowly.
I thought about this as we walked again in silence. I asked another question, curious by her reply, "How can words be heavy?"
Another small shrug, "They just are."
I didn't believe her. "But there are lots of words in my book! More words than in your bag, I bet, and my book isn't heavy! See? My bag is light."
She smiled and laughed, a sad little laugh that made me feel sad, too.
"I'm glad that your words aren't heavy, little one. I hope that your words stay in your books for a long while yet."
I was frustrated now. Words weren't heavy! I wanted to know what was really in her bag.
"Come on, let me see the words!" I said.
I was surprised to see a look of fear cross her face. She held the bag closer to her and shook her head forcefully. She began to walk as fast as her load would let her, the objects knocking against one another inside the bag. But the weight was too much. She tripped and her grip on the bag slipped. It hit the ground with a loud thud. Out spilled the objects.
With a cry she began to gather up the objects, trying to shield them from my view. But I had already seen them.
They were stones. Not little stones that you toss into the river or skip across the lake or put in your pocket on a walk, but big stones; stones you would use to make giant splashes with wide, wide ripples in the water.
I bent and picked one up. She reached out to me and said in a high, thin voice, "Please. Give that to me."
I studied it, then looked into her face. Her eyes were full of sorrow. I'd never seen eyes like that. So very sad--and lost and tired, too. And afraid.
I looked back at the stone.
"There's writing on it," I said.
She nodded, "Yes, little one. There is writing on it."
"Are there writing on the other ones, too?" I asked.
A sob escaped from her, but she smiled through the tears now streaming down her face and said, "Yes. Yes-on all of them."
I handed the stone to her and watched as she put it back into the bag. I helped her put the rest away. Each stone did have a word on it, words like fear, guilt, shame, ugly, failure, pain, lies, forgotten, impossible, alone, nothing. There were so many stones. So many stones that she carried.
She left me standing alone on the path. I watched her go, thinking about all of the stones. But now, her bag was a little lighter. When she wasn't looking, I had placed my book inside her bag, a book full of words that weren't heavy.
The stone in my hand was a heavy stone, large and rough. On it a word was written, one that I had never associated before with weight. But it was a heavy stone, and a heavy word. I studied it, thinking about what I had gained that day by meeting the woman on the path.
Carefully placing the stone into my now empty bag, I swung it onto my back. I looked over my shoulder at the path behind me. The woman was nowhere to be seen. I began the walk home, feeling the heaviness of the stone against my shoulders. Aloud, I whispered a word:
"Knowledge."
.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
makes sense...
Enjoy.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
brilliance...
Just enjoy it.
But seriously. I could (might) totally write a paper on this.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
black and white...
I acidentally discovered a setting on my camera (yes, I did read the manual). Luckily I was able to replicate the "mistake" because that means I can do it again.
Monday, February 20, 2012
losing track of time...
It’s amazing how quickly 4 hours passed us by. Not even the darkening of the sky seemed to matter; it was a wholly unconnected phenomenon to the part of the world we were standing on. 120 minutes seemed like 10 minutes, and when we checked the clock and saw that time had slipped away it was shocking. Time, for a moment, had stopped. There was nothing to do and nowhere to be but to be doing and being with you.
.
.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
post 800...
Do you remember when everyone used to say "shnikees" (sh-NIGH-keys)? We used to say that all the time in elementary school. Maybe it was a Utah thing of the nineties?
Anyway. That's the first word I thought of when I realized that this post is numero ocho ciento, or in English, eight hundred. HOLY SHNIKEES. That's a lot of post-age. Good thing it doesn't work like stamps...stamps are expensive!
Anyway. That's the first word I thought of when I realized that this post is numero ocho ciento, or in English, eight hundred. HOLY SHNIKEES. That's a lot of post-age. Good thing it doesn't work like stamps...stamps are expensive!
Friday, February 17, 2012
spoke too soon...
May I just say that I hate missing school? You get behind, you miss quizzes, you have attendance points docked, you're stuck at home by yourself all day, and if the dog pees on the floor when you were asleep it's your fault because you weren't paying attention. Not that she did that, but if she had.
I especially hate missing school when it's because I can't walk from pain. How do you explain that to a professor? "Dear Professor so and so, I missed your class and the quiz due to a sudden illness that occurs frequently but the doctors don't know what is causing it so...yeah. Sorry."
That's the really frustrating thing about this, not being able to explain it.
And so I'm in my room in bed with Misty at my feet, Molly outside because she won't come inside no matter how hard I try, and a giant smartwater bottle next to me with a picture of a crab inside of it (not very smart, smartwater people: the kind of crab you put on the label does not live in freshwater). I have letters to write, homework to do, a party to finish planning, errands to run if I can, laundry in the washer, and all I've done is watch episodes of "Once Upon a Time". Ann showed me the first couple of episodes and now I'm wondering if this is how a fish feels after it's taken the bait...
I especially hate missing school when it's because I can't walk from pain. How do you explain that to a professor? "Dear Professor so and so, I missed your class and the quiz due to a sudden illness that occurs frequently but the doctors don't know what is causing it so...yeah. Sorry."
That's the really frustrating thing about this, not being able to explain it.
And so I'm in my room in bed with Misty at my feet, Molly outside because she won't come inside no matter how hard I try, and a giant smartwater bottle next to me with a picture of a crab inside of it (not very smart, smartwater people: the kind of crab you put on the label does not live in freshwater). I have letters to write, homework to do, a party to finish planning, errands to run if I can, laundry in the washer, and all I've done is watch episodes of "Once Upon a Time". Ann showed me the first couple of episodes and now I'm wondering if this is how a fish feels after it's taken the bait...
Thursday, February 16, 2012
happy making...
...my English professor after listening to me express my concerns regarding an upcoming assignment: "Oh, Georgie, I don't have any worries about you in this class. You are a great writer. Really."
...97% on my religion exam. ShaBAM.
...apologizing to a friend who I was a bit short with yesterday and feeling absolutely liberated afterwards.
...printing 100 pictures for only $13 instead of 23 for $5.75. Much better economically speaking.
...perfect birthday gift for little Mandy. She's TWELVE tomorrow. TWELVE. Oh Em Gee.
...old fashioned doughnut from BYU bakery. Mmmm.
...coloring book that Ann gave me for Valentine's Day!
...clean fish tank. Leo is happy.
...laundry almost done!
...dinner "date" set for next week with a friend I haven't seen in over a month. Noodles & Company, here we come!
...apples the size of my palm at Walmart on sale (and I have little hands so they really are teeny apples).
...letter from Q came in the mail with an AMAZING photo of a butterfly she saw in California. I love mail!
...my English teacher pulled out a pack of Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream gum, and when she learned that I'd never heard of it she gave me her last piece. She was right-it is super good.
...less pain than ever before and it's awesome. I can actually walk.
...Captain America is on BYU campus everywhere. Posters, t-shirts, sidewalk chalked in front of buildings. Love.
...ran into Miss Julia Rae Sanchez at the store and got to talk to her for awhile. She always makes me happy. "You're pretty!" Love her.
...going to be IN bed with the lights OFF before MIDNIGHT for the FIRST TIME in WEEKS. YES.
...and this
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
you wish you were a Cougar...
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
best Valentine's Day ever...
Today was the first time I have gone to a BYU devotional this semester. I actually had time. Two words: absolutely awesome. Read why here.
Amazing talk.
My Marriage & Family class is always good, but today was great. We talked about (guess) love and charity in the marriage/family relationship. Mostly we defined love. We also talked about the right way to use our language regarding love, and to make sure the love we express is appropriate.
In general terms, the four types of love defined by the Greeks:
1. Philos, or the love between friends
2. Storge, or familial love
3. Eros, or romantic love
4. Agape, "great love", often defined as charity but really going deeper than that
Great lesson.
Remember that 800 word children's article I had to write? I got it back today. Teacher comment:
"Georgie,
Seriously? You astonish me! An excellent article!! Thank you! Disney is a huge subject to tackle--even the creation of Mickey is still broad, but you deftly crafted an angle about spatial relationships that is focused and fascinating. The addition of your fun facts and definitions are engaging. Well done. Brava!"
Score = 100%
Day = made.
The last three weeks at work have been spent doing almost nothing but blowing up and tying balloons. I'm not even kidding, that's all we've done. So, probably 5,000 balloons later (I'm dead serious, I've prepared so many), I decided it was time to get some of my own. I picked out my balloons, blew them up, tied pretty ribbons on them, arranged and knotted them into a bouquet, and, using the very last red balloon weight in the whole store, finished off my Valentine bouquet. And...I kind of love it.
Ingredients:
3 Valentine print mylar balloons
2 clear damask printed latex balloons
3 black damask printed latex balloons
2 red with black polka dots latex balloons
2 red with white polka dots latex balloons
1 red balloon weight
lots of red, white, black, and silver curling ribbon
Super cute, right?
Happy Valentine's Day to me!
My Marriage & Family class is always good, but today was great. We talked about (guess) love and charity in the marriage/family relationship. Mostly we defined love. We also talked about the right way to use our language regarding love, and to make sure the love we express is appropriate.
In general terms, the four types of love defined by the Greeks:
1. Philos, or the love between friends
2. Storge, or familial love
3. Eros, or romantic love
4. Agape, "great love", often defined as charity but really going deeper than that
Remember that 800 word children's article I had to write? I got it back today. Teacher comment:
"Georgie,
Seriously? You astonish me! An excellent article!! Thank you! Disney is a huge subject to tackle--even the creation of Mickey is still broad, but you deftly crafted an angle about spatial relationships that is focused and fascinating. The addition of your fun facts and definitions are engaging. Well done. Brava!"
Day = made.
The last three weeks at work have been spent doing almost nothing but blowing up and tying balloons. I'm not even kidding, that's all we've done. So, probably 5,000 balloons later (I'm dead serious, I've prepared so many), I decided it was time to get some of my own. I picked out my balloons, blew them up, tied pretty ribbons on them, arranged and knotted them into a bouquet, and, using the very last red balloon weight in the whole store, finished off my Valentine bouquet. And...I kind of love it.
Ingredients:
3 Valentine print mylar balloons
2 clear damask printed latex balloons
3 black damask printed latex balloons
2 red with black polka dots latex balloons
2 red with white polka dots latex balloons
1 red balloon weight
lots of red, white, black, and silver curling ribbon
Monday, February 13, 2012
love isn't only about romance...
Valentine's Day. It's been a conversation piece at work and school for the past month. You know what? I'm sick of two things about it:
1. People who constantly squeal about how excited they are for it because of their significant other
2. People who constantly complain about how much they hate it because of their lack of a significant other
I used to think I was impartial to this holiday. And then I got to thinking about it more. I don't have neutral feelings about it at all. Despite my lack of a significant other (which, right now, I am so grateful for), I love Valentine's Day. Why? Let me tell you:
There is always, always, always someone who needs to be reminded that they are loved. It doesn't even need to be a holiday to show someone that they are cared for.
I'm excited for Valentine's Day because it's a day I get to show others I care about them. I care that they are alive. The people I know and love and hold dear, they deserve to know that I love them! People I've never met before, people I'll never see again. They're important in this world! Every person is important, whether you personally know their name or not. That's part of what makes everyone so very special: despite the billions on the planet and the potential to become insignificant, no one truly is.
This Valentine's Day, I ask you to think less of yourself and your relationship status. Think more of those who may be struggling less than, as much as, or more than yourself. Be it a single mother, a child in a dysfunctional or even functional home, a widow or widower, a person down on their luck, a customer at your workplace, a teacher, a friend, a family member, or even the dog down the road--all need to know they are loved.
Those who are loved, take some time out to share it with another person. Those who don't think that they are loved, go out and find it in loving someone else.
1. People who constantly squeal about how excited they are for it because of their significant other
2. People who constantly complain about how much they hate it because of their lack of a significant other
I used to think I was impartial to this holiday. And then I got to thinking about it more. I don't have neutral feelings about it at all. Despite my lack of a significant other (which, right now, I am so grateful for), I love Valentine's Day. Why? Let me tell you:
There is always, always, always someone who needs to be reminded that they are loved. It doesn't even need to be a holiday to show someone that they are cared for.
I'm excited for Valentine's Day because it's a day I get to show others I care about them. I care that they are alive. The people I know and love and hold dear, they deserve to know that I love them! People I've never met before, people I'll never see again. They're important in this world! Every person is important, whether you personally know their name or not. That's part of what makes everyone so very special: despite the billions on the planet and the potential to become insignificant, no one truly is.
This Valentine's Day, I ask you to think less of yourself and your relationship status. Think more of those who may be struggling less than, as much as, or more than yourself. Be it a single mother, a child in a dysfunctional or even functional home, a widow or widower, a person down on their luck, a customer at your workplace, a teacher, a friend, a family member, or even the dog down the road--all need to know they are loved.
Those who are loved, take some time out to share it with another person. Those who don't think that they are loved, go out and find it in loving someone else.
quotable...
I updated my quotes page on this blog. These are just a few of the ones I posted on the Favorite Quotes page. You should check them out if you have time! Some of them are pretty funny.
Someone once said
“If you do not use what the Lord gives you for its intended purpose, the Lord will take it away.” –Jason Raddatz
“When you embrace the culture of the world, you will never be enough.” –Hank Smith
“Being still and doing nothing are two different things.” –Mr. Han, Karate Kid
“Only a fool doesn’t know when they’ve been beaten.” “Then I’m a fool, for I’m a long way from being beaten.” –Sybill, “Downton Abby”
“My smile is small, but it might be just the one they need.” –A Voice of Her Own, pg. 167
“…I am the only self I’ve got and must make the best of it.” –A Voice of Her Own, pg. 185
“Love is more than a mere curiosity or momentary excitement. I don’t think that two people can know it’s real until they’ve spent time together, until they have a history together.” –Luke Skywalker, The Courtship of Princess Leia, pg. 294
“…you don’t need many friends, you know, as long as the ones you have are good ones.” –City of Stars, pg. 167
“Sometimes what you can’t see is more real than what you can.” –Jars of Glass, pg. 133
“Those who love you will receive you just as you are.” –Bamboo People, pg. 249
“I’ll do my best, and if my best isn’t good enough, at least I will have done everything I could, everything that is in me. I don’t have to try to be someone else, someone I could never be.” –Abhorsen, pg. 59
“I want to live like music sounds.” –The Morning Gift, pg. 10
“Fear is what kills everything in the end. Without it, we would be immortal. And we would not harm anyone else.” –Singer, pg. 107
“I feel like these fortune cookies are like my patriarchal blessing: they don’t tell me what to do but they tell me what’s best for me.” –Brianna Pettit
“Do not fear. This life is a dance, not a battle. We are all part of this world, not masters of it.” -The Singer of All Songs, pg. 259
"A strong man who has known power all of his life may lose respect for that power, but--a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion." -Dr. Abraham Erskine
“Roses are for love. Not forget-me-not, honeysuckle, silly sweethearts’ love but the love that makes you and keeps you whole, love that gets you through the worst your life’ll give you and that pours out of you when you’re given the best instead…there aren’t many roses around anymore because they need more love than people have to give ‘em, to make ‘em flower, and the only thing that’ll stand in for love is magic, though it ain’t as good, and you have to have a lot of magic…the bushes only started covering themselves with thorns when it got so it was only magic that ever made ‘em grow. They were sad, like, and it came out in thorns. Maybe it was different when the world was younger, when people and roses were younger.” –Rose Daughter, pg. 53
“If you do not use what the Lord gives you for its intended purpose, the Lord will take it away.” –Jason Raddatz
“When you embrace the culture of the world, you will never be enough.” –Hank Smith
“Being still and doing nothing are two different things.” –Mr. Han, Karate Kid
“Only a fool doesn’t know when they’ve been beaten.” “Then I’m a fool, for I’m a long way from being beaten.” –Sybill, “Downton Abby”
“My smile is small, but it might be just the one they need.” –A Voice of Her Own, pg. 167
“…I am the only self I’ve got and must make the best of it.” –A Voice of Her Own, pg. 185
“Love is more than a mere curiosity or momentary excitement. I don’t think that two people can know it’s real until they’ve spent time together, until they have a history together.” –Luke Skywalker, The Courtship of Princess Leia, pg. 294
“…you don’t need many friends, you know, as long as the ones you have are good ones.” –City of Stars, pg. 167
“Sometimes what you can’t see is more real than what you can.” –Jars of Glass, pg. 133
“Those who love you will receive you just as you are.” –Bamboo People, pg. 249
“I’ll do my best, and if my best isn’t good enough, at least I will have done everything I could, everything that is in me. I don’t have to try to be someone else, someone I could never be.” –Abhorsen, pg. 59
“I want to live like music sounds.” –The Morning Gift, pg. 10
“Fear is what kills everything in the end. Without it, we would be immortal. And we would not harm anyone else.” –Singer, pg. 107
“I feel like these fortune cookies are like my patriarchal blessing: they don’t tell me what to do but they tell me what’s best for me.” –Brianna Pettit
“Do not fear. This life is a dance, not a battle. We are all part of this world, not masters of it.” -The Singer of All Songs, pg. 259
"A strong man who has known power all of his life may lose respect for that power, but--a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion." -Dr. Abraham Erskine
“Roses are for love. Not forget-me-not, honeysuckle, silly sweethearts’ love but the love that makes you and keeps you whole, love that gets you through the worst your life’ll give you and that pours out of you when you’re given the best instead…there aren’t many roses around anymore because they need more love than people have to give ‘em, to make ‘em flower, and the only thing that’ll stand in for love is magic, though it ain’t as good, and you have to have a lot of magic…the bushes only started covering themselves with thorns when it got so it was only magic that ever made ‘em grow. They were sad, like, and it came out in thorns. Maybe it was different when the world was younger, when people and roses were younger.” –Rose Daughter, pg. 53
Sunday, February 12, 2012
disconnect...
Sometimes when I see a picture of myself I stare at it, amazed to see that I'm pretty. Then I look in the mirror and feel like crying.
Being without a voice makes me realize how much I talk on a day to day basis. It also makes me wonder how much of it is ever worth saying, and if I'm just wasting others' time.
No matter how hard I try to be a good primary teacher, I don't feel like I'm making any difference in the kids' lives. I can't get them to behave and they're probably not learning anything at all.
Suddenly men are paying attention to me a lot, not all of it in the "just friends" manner that I'm used to. While it's nice to have friends, it's not nice to be unsure all of the sudden about where all of this is going. I don't want to hurt anyone. Or be hurt, for that matter. Be careful what you wish for. Meh.
I worry too much and I sleep too little because of it. Even when I do "fall asleep" I'm still constantly aware of what's going on around me. The slightest sound or movement brings me jerking out of that place just between waking and dreams, the place where you're trapped between the real and the surreal.
Homework. Busywork, more like. Sick of it. Sick of tests. Sick of this thing called "learning" that really isn't. People don't learn this way. They learn by doing, not by being told what others learned or how someone else did something. Or at least that's how I learn. Like to learn...I don't know.
I never want to be the person who everyone at work hates to work with. I never want to be the manager or supervisor or employer who everyone secretly fears and dislikes. Why would anyone want to be that way? I don't understand why people with "power" use it to intimidate and threaten instead of to empower and educate.
That awkward moment when your mother is right: I am the most selfish person ever. She is right, really.
Sadness vs. Depression: sadness is like a stitch in your side after running very fast for a long time. You can keep living and handling things just fine until you reach a certain point, and then it starts to hurt. Depression, on the other is a constant pain, so constant that it becomes habit. It's a pain so deep that you may not even know it's there because you have nothing else to compare it to. Sadness is comparable. Depression is just heavy.
Every time I go for something I really want, I instantly feel total regret after starting the process. It's like I beat myself up for even daring to hope for something good to come of it. Why should good come to me? I'm no one special. And then after that thought I feel horribly guilty. Recipe for giving up.
My room is a disaster. I started to clean it. Then I sat down in the middle of the pile of clothes on my floor and cried.
Gosh, I am such a...ugh. Sick of this. Especially the crying part.
Water is underrated. Just saying.
Being without a voice makes me realize how much I talk on a day to day basis. It also makes me wonder how much of it is ever worth saying, and if I'm just wasting others' time.
No matter how hard I try to be a good primary teacher, I don't feel like I'm making any difference in the kids' lives. I can't get them to behave and they're probably not learning anything at all.
Suddenly men are paying attention to me a lot, not all of it in the "just friends" manner that I'm used to. While it's nice to have friends, it's not nice to be unsure all of the sudden about where all of this is going. I don't want to hurt anyone. Or be hurt, for that matter. Be careful what you wish for. Meh.
I worry too much and I sleep too little because of it. Even when I do "fall asleep" I'm still constantly aware of what's going on around me. The slightest sound or movement brings me jerking out of that place just between waking and dreams, the place where you're trapped between the real and the surreal.
Homework. Busywork, more like. Sick of it. Sick of tests. Sick of this thing called "learning" that really isn't. People don't learn this way. They learn by doing, not by being told what others learned or how someone else did something. Or at least that's how I learn. Like to learn...I don't know.
I never want to be the person who everyone at work hates to work with. I never want to be the manager or supervisor or employer who everyone secretly fears and dislikes. Why would anyone want to be that way? I don't understand why people with "power" use it to intimidate and threaten instead of to empower and educate.
That awkward moment when your mother is right: I am the most selfish person ever. She is right, really.
Sadness vs. Depression: sadness is like a stitch in your side after running very fast for a long time. You can keep living and handling things just fine until you reach a certain point, and then it starts to hurt. Depression, on the other is a constant pain, so constant that it becomes habit. It's a pain so deep that you may not even know it's there because you have nothing else to compare it to. Sadness is comparable. Depression is just heavy.
Every time I go for something I really want, I instantly feel total regret after starting the process. It's like I beat myself up for even daring to hope for something good to come of it. Why should good come to me? I'm no one special. And then after that thought I feel horribly guilty. Recipe for giving up.
My room is a disaster. I started to clean it. Then I sat down in the middle of the pile of clothes on my floor and cried.
Gosh, I am such a...ugh. Sick of this. Especially the crying part.
Water is underrated. Just saying.
wedding crashers...
While we aren't exactly wedding crashers because at least one of us knew the bride at the first reception and all three of us knew the bride and groom at the second, we still had a little too much fun. Why? Mini ice cream parlor, cheesecake pops (like cake pops but made out of cheesecake), pretty lights and decor, lots of pictures to look at, chocolate fountains, a potential future engagement within the next year to giggle about, chocolate covered strawberries (!!!) and...a photobooth? Yes. Photobooth. Complete with props.
Totes, man.
The camera refocused without warning after each shot. Struggle.
Alyssa and I figured it out. Chelsie...didn't.
I love these two girls. I am so very glad that I get to work with them, and that we have become such awesome friends. Chelsie and Alyssa, you two are AWESOME.
(((HUGS)))
I love these two girls. I am so very glad that I get to work with them, and that we have become such awesome friends. Chelsie and Alyssa, you two are AWESOME.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
roarin' twenties...
My first date during the year 2012 and after my 20th birthday was tonight. What better place to go than to a Roarin' 20s Institute dance?! My extremely kind, super cute, very funny, absolutely intelligent Eric asked me to go with him, and I gave an emphatic YES. It was so, so, SO fun. Can't stand it. :)
Pictures!
Dress
Hair
Awesome date
Happy girl
Friday, February 10, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
contrast...
...I find out I did a lot worse on a test than I thought I did.
...there are no cookies in the cookie jar.
...I make a mistake at work.
...the pocket in my backpack that holds my iClicker (quiz taking remote) is empty.
...my dog bites my face for no reason.
...plans alter drastically (I dislike abrupt change).
...the "fuel tank empty" light comes on when I don't expect it.
...my backpack is very heavy and I'm parked out by the football stadium.
...people sit on me because they don't realize that I'm there.
...a professor is unhappy with overall test scores not because we're bad students, but because "I didn't teach the material well enough, so I'm going to look at your answers and adjust as needed to help you. It's only fair, really!"
...there are cookies in the cookie jar AND in my lunch.
...the mistake I made at work ends up adding to the decor in the store.
...there is no iClicker quiz on the day it disappeared from my backpack.
...my other dog kisses my nose better after the first one bit me.
...altered plans end up being better than the original ones.
...I have enough money on my card to put gas in my car's tank.
...a nice boy helps me with my books and bag.
...people sit next to me so I'm not by myself, aka they noticed me before sitting down.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
funny how that works...
The more I get to know you, the more I find that we are incredibly compatible. We like the same things and we dislike the same things. We have similar goals and dreams. We have similar opinions politically, socially, spiritually, family-ly, educationally, and the like. We think very much the same about the world, and even when we disagree we are able to come to some sort of a compromise (except on the issue of whether cake is good or not. I will like cake no matter how much you dislike it).
And so here we are, able to converse for hours on end without getting bored of one another. Here we are, able to sit together in companionable silence without it getting awkward. And always, the we ends and it's back to you in your world and me in mine.
I haven't met anyone like you before. I've had best friends and people I could talk to about most everything, but you? Note that this is weird because you're a guy: you are the one who I can talk to about everything. Literally everything. And the best part? You talk back. About everything. When we're not talking, we're still communicating. It's different, but it's a comfortable feeling. It's one I don't get tired of quickly.
It's odd, because when I'm with you I feel content and complete. It's a perfect friendship, one of mutual caring and understanding with a very open channel of communication. I don't have to be afraid to talk to you about things that might be weird or potentially awkward. For you, it's just making things better by talking through it. I appreciate that.
Sometimes it's strange to me that we're friends. Then if I think about it, I realize thinking about it is ridiculous. Why analyze something that brings me joy? Still, though. It's funny.
Funny.
And so here we are, able to converse for hours on end without getting bored of one another. Here we are, able to sit together in companionable silence without it getting awkward. And always, the we ends and it's back to you in your world and me in mine.
I haven't met anyone like you before. I've had best friends and people I could talk to about most everything, but you? Note that this is weird because you're a guy: you are the one who I can talk to about everything. Literally everything. And the best part? You talk back. About everything. When we're not talking, we're still communicating. It's different, but it's a comfortable feeling. It's one I don't get tired of quickly.
It's odd, because when I'm with you I feel content and complete. It's a perfect friendship, one of mutual caring and understanding with a very open channel of communication. I don't have to be afraid to talk to you about things that might be weird or potentially awkward. For you, it's just making things better by talking through it. I appreciate that.
Sometimes it's strange to me that we're friends. Then if I think about it, I realize thinking about it is ridiculous. Why analyze something that brings me joy? Still, though. It's funny.
Monday, February 6, 2012
ninja vanish...
One time last week Emily organized a surprise party for her hubby's birthday. Theme: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Instructions: Arrive 30 minutes early in full ninja turtle attire. I was happy to oblige.
NINJA TURTLE POWAH
Brianna and I are awesome.
Hottest turtles on the planet.
FELIZ CUMPLEANOS ROBERTO!!! PS Your wife is gorgeous.
LDC reunion!!! Sierra, Natalie, Kenna, Lauren, Allie, Brianna.
.
.
well. I'm a jerk...
"What happens to me when I'm provoked is that I get tongue-tied and my mind goes blank. Then, then I spend all night tossing and turning trying to figure out what I should have said."
"...I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows."
Have you ever been so sick and tired of hearing the same sort of comment regarding the same things in your life that you accidentally let slip a rather unkind, judgemental blurt of your own? Well. I did tonight. Now I feel absolutely terrible for it.
I went to a Sunday dinner for previous and present LDC members at Preston's apartment tonight. It was to celebrate Cinco de Mayo in February...not sure how that works but I was totally up for it. How could I miss a chance to see my buddies? After spending an hour (I kid you not, an hour) trying to find the place and getting horribly lost I got there half an hour late. I walked in the door and was engulfed in hugs. Then the questions started, "How do you like school?" "Why did you leave the choir?!" "What's going on your life now?" and the like. Feeling frazzled after being lost for an hour and then arriving so late (I hate being late) I answered them as quickly as I could, gradually getting back into the swing of the loud, happy LDC crowd.
One of the girls asked me why I went to BYU. I told her about the program I'm going into, American Studies. She asked me what I was going to do with the degree, and I told her I was going to use it as a background for a Master's Degree in Library Science or Museum Curatorship. Out of nowhere, the guy sitting next to her threw his hands up in the air and said, "I can't believe how many girls are getting Master's Degrees! What a waste, it makes me sick!"
What I should have done was ignore him, but no. No, I couldn't do that. Immediately my frustrations rose to the surface. It was the same sort of ignorant, belittling, small-minded, sexist comment I had been faced with for months and months. 8 out of 10 times (not exaggerating -- It happens ALL the time) my goals and dreams come up in a conversation, some man thinks it necessary to pop off, always basing value on gender. I can do just as much as a man can! I'm just as capable and intelligent! Up until this point I have always, always ignored them or changed the subject, then vented to a friend or a family member, or written it down and slammed the book shut. But tonight I was done with it.
Before I even thought I replied, "Wow. I don't like you already and I don't even know you."
Um...jerk much? Yeah. How do you recover from that kind of rudeness? We didn't even know each others' names. The look on his face...he was definitely shocked. I didn't dare look at my friends' faces to see their reactions.
And so, the past few hours have been spent replaying the situation again and again in my head, mentally berating myself for my stupidity. If I'd just kept my mouth shut, for crying out loud. Nope. Jerk. *facepalm*
"...I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows."
-Kathleen Kelly and Joe Fox, You've Got Mail
Have you ever been so sick and tired of hearing the same sort of comment regarding the same things in your life that you accidentally let slip a rather unkind, judgemental blurt of your own? Well. I did tonight. Now I feel absolutely terrible for it.
I went to a Sunday dinner for previous and present LDC members at Preston's apartment tonight. It was to celebrate Cinco de Mayo in February...not sure how that works but I was totally up for it. How could I miss a chance to see my buddies? After spending an hour (I kid you not, an hour) trying to find the place and getting horribly lost I got there half an hour late. I walked in the door and was engulfed in hugs. Then the questions started, "How do you like school?" "Why did you leave the choir?!" "What's going on your life now?" and the like. Feeling frazzled after being lost for an hour and then arriving so late (I hate being late) I answered them as quickly as I could, gradually getting back into the swing of the loud, happy LDC crowd.
One of the girls asked me why I went to BYU. I told her about the program I'm going into, American Studies. She asked me what I was going to do with the degree, and I told her I was going to use it as a background for a Master's Degree in Library Science or Museum Curatorship. Out of nowhere, the guy sitting next to her threw his hands up in the air and said, "I can't believe how many girls are getting Master's Degrees! What a waste, it makes me sick!"
What I should have done was ignore him, but no. No, I couldn't do that. Immediately my frustrations rose to the surface. It was the same sort of ignorant, belittling, small-minded, sexist comment I had been faced with for months and months. 8 out of 10 times (not exaggerating -- It happens ALL the time) my goals and dreams come up in a conversation, some man thinks it necessary to pop off, always basing value on gender. I can do just as much as a man can! I'm just as capable and intelligent! Up until this point I have always, always ignored them or changed the subject, then vented to a friend or a family member, or written it down and slammed the book shut. But tonight I was done with it.
Before I even thought I replied, "Wow. I don't like you already and I don't even know you."
Um...jerk much? Yeah. How do you recover from that kind of rudeness? We didn't even know each others' names. The look on his face...he was definitely shocked. I didn't dare look at my friends' faces to see their reactions.
And so, the past few hours have been spent replaying the situation again and again in my head, mentally berating myself for my stupidity. If I'd just kept my mouth shut, for crying out loud. Nope. Jerk. *facepalm*
Sunday, February 5, 2012
he thinks I'm pretty...
There have only been two times in my life when I have absolutely, one-hundred percent believed a man when he told me that I am beautiful. The first time I frightened the poor boy half to death by sliding to the floor with tears streaming down my face as I realized that I believed what he was saying. His mother heard me crying and came running into the room exclaiming, "What did you DO to her?!" His confused response, "All I said was she's beautiful!"
The second time was last night after work. I was being a horribly self-centered child, thinking only about the things going on in my life and how desperately I wanted to escape work due to the constant near-tears state I was in. As I started to leave, a coworker caught me and asked me to come talk to him in his car. He's hard to argue with, so I complied.
He let me talk for quite awhile before interjecting any comments. When he did, I was amazed at the honesty in his face. He looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks I'm beautiful, not because of the make-up or the clothes I wear or how tall or thin I am, but because I'm me. When he looks at me, he sees his gorgeous, funny, intelligent, love able, cute, wise, incredible friend who he enjoys spending time with because of who I am. He doesn't love me based on the way I look. He loves me because he knows me.
And you know what? I believe him. I may not be able to transpose his viewpoint to my own yet, but I believe him. Do you know how incredible that feels? All of it. It's incredible.
All day long, every time something would start to bother me or I'd start feeling sad, I was able to shrug it off and say with a smile, "Who cares? He thinks I'm pretty."
The second time was last night after work. I was being a horribly self-centered child, thinking only about the things going on in my life and how desperately I wanted to escape work due to the constant near-tears state I was in. As I started to leave, a coworker caught me and asked me to come talk to him in his car. He's hard to argue with, so I complied.
He let me talk for quite awhile before interjecting any comments. When he did, I was amazed at the honesty in his face. He looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks I'm beautiful, not because of the make-up or the clothes I wear or how tall or thin I am, but because I'm me. When he looks at me, he sees his gorgeous, funny, intelligent, love able, cute, wise, incredible friend who he enjoys spending time with because of who I am. He doesn't love me based on the way I look. He loves me because he knows me.
And you know what? I believe him. I may not be able to transpose his viewpoint to my own yet, but I believe him. Do you know how incredible that feels? All of it. It's incredible.
All day long, every time something would start to bother me or I'd start feeling sad, I was able to shrug it off and say with a smile, "Who cares? He thinks I'm pretty."
Saturday, February 4, 2012
closet nerd...
Some of you know that I am a nerd, but it's not a super well known fact. Brother Eggett described me as a "closet nerd", and I think that is a pretty good way to put it. So...out comes a bit of my inner nerd-joy. I've listened to this three times now and I keep getting chills!
YAY LOTR happiness!!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
January top 10...plus 1...
1. Set Fire to the Rain -- Adele
2. Rolling in the Deep -- Jon Schimdt and Steven Sharp Nelson (Adele cover)
3. A Thousand Years -- Christina Perri
4. Let Me In -- Preston Powis
5. Stronger -- Kelly Clarkson
6. Domino -- Jessie J
7. We Found Love -- Rihanna (radio edit)
8. The One That Got Away -- Katie Perry
9.1 Without You -- David Guetta ft. Usher
9.2 Without You -- Jon Schimdt and Steven Sharp Nelson (David Guetta cover)
10. Paradise (Peponi) -- Jon Schimdt, Steven Sharp Nelson, and Alex Boye (Coldplay cover)
2. Rolling in the Deep -- Jon Schimdt and Steven Sharp Nelson (Adele cover)
3. A Thousand Years -- Christina Perri
4. Let Me In -- Preston Powis
5. Stronger -- Kelly Clarkson
6. Domino -- Jessie J
7. We Found Love -- Rihanna (radio edit)
8. The One That Got Away -- Katie Perry
9.1 Without You -- David Guetta ft. Usher
9.2 Without You -- Jon Schimdt and Steven Sharp Nelson (David Guetta cover)
10. Paradise (Peponi) -- Jon Schimdt, Steven Sharp Nelson, and Alex Boye (Coldplay cover)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)