All But My Life / Gerta Wiessmann Klein

I have long been fascinated by World War II history. In particular I've been interested in the Holocaust; from my early teens, I read every history I could get my hands on, focusing on the facts, figures, and general psychology of the Nazi regime. Why did they pick on the Jews?* How could a nation stand by and do nothing, while their neighbors and friends and even relatives were shipped to work camps, trampled and shot in the streets, treated worse than the lowliest farm animals - their lives worth less than the dirt upon which the Germans trod. I can't answer these questions to my satisfaction. Neither can many historians, whose words in literature and documentary continue to debate motive and share tales, dates, and figures.

                                    

Lately, I have ventured into the realm of Holocaust autobiography and historical memoir. Compiling booklists has become a hobby, because I admit: my previous experience studying the Holocaust often left me feeling sick, angry, and depressed. Given my own personal dealings with post-traumatic stress disorder, I was frightened to pick up a book written by a survivor. Could I read without nightmares? Without nausea? Without feeling hollowed out, stripped of faith, and dwelling on the current horrors I know exist in the world?

Finally, I got the courage. I began my journey with Gerda Weissmann Klein's memoir, All But My Life. After 2 hours of nonstop, can't-put-it-down reading, I finished. And I'm unable to tell what this book has given me with any real clarity.

First published in 1957, her work begins with her experiences as a Jew in Poland on the day Germany invaded, in 1939. She introduces her parents, her well-loved brother, Arthur, and other family members, neighbors, and friends. Immediately she asks the question I have visited time and again: how could her Polish neighbors welcome the Germans into their small village, when they all knew what it meant for the Jews in their midst? Her story continues through the German victory years, with her brother being removed to work camps inside Poland; her father and mother forced into the dank, damp basement of their own home as their belongings are stolen before their eyes; their eventual removal to a ghetto; and their separation as her father is sent to a men's camp, and her mother is sorted into the trains for Auschwitz.

Klein makes it clear that they all knew what it meant to go to that dreaded place.

Because of her age, Klein escapes the death camps and is sent to one of the many German work camps. She is lucky in the first years, overseen by a strict commander, but dealt mercy in many instances. Klein and her 3 friends from home and the trains are together for almost their entire incarceration - though only she survives the long ordeal (all 3 died within 1 week of liberation by American troops, the first days before, the second on Liberation Day, and the third several days after due to amputation complications). In her final chapters, Klein asks once why she survived and her friends did not, sitting among the headstones outside the joint Allied Forces hospital where she recovers from her trauma. And chooses to move forward in honor of her friends, in honor of her promises to her family to be strong, rather than dwell on the horrors and grief.

Any memoir of this kind is heavy. There is death, there is sorrow, and there is the constant head-shaking at the utter lack of humanity experienced by Klein and her fellow Jews. As I read, I kept expecting tears. I kept expecting rage and shock to boil within me, to cause me to close the pages in despair. As each page unleashed new terrors and fear, I was surprised to find myself spellbound - not by the awfulness itself - but by Klein's bravery and commitment to her promise: "Be strong," said her brother. "Be strong," her mother's last words through the screams and cries of a crowded cattle car. "Promise me," from her father, "that you will go on." And she does - for herself, for her friends, for her family.

Klein humbles me. Her determination and sheer force of will are inspiring. I found myself staring at a spot on the page, simply wondering how she did it - how when filthy and hungry, she kept working and found ways to ingratiate herself and her friends with their guards.** In awe I read her account of carrying her best friend in their death march through the snow, Klein herself too weary to keep going, but never stopping. I couldn't do that. I don't think most of us now could do what she did, or any of these survivors managed. How did they hold out in the face of such insurmountable pain? Fear? Grief and sorrow?

I'm amazed by this memoir. I'm astounded by Klein's final pages - how there is such hope pulled from the darkness. I'm blown away by the epilogue, how Klein writes of her healing, of the dark days, and of things that trigger memories*** - and each time they threaten to swallow her up, she perseveres. She overcomes. She is herself in awe of what has come from her experience - that she is never hungry, or cold, or afraid; and that she has turned tragedy into opportunity to help those who do suffer through advocating and volunteer work. Klein writes that helping others has lifted her higher than any activity she could possibly do, has given her courage that she never thought possible. I am again humbled by her compassion and dedication to easing suffering.

I feel things I cannot express. I never "review" books - in fact, this isn't a review to me. This is trying to capture the sheer amazement I feel at this woman's strength. Part of reading for me is empathy - trying to feel and be one with the person or persons whom you read about in a story. And I am overwhelmed. Words are my gift, and words fail describing the sheer energy I feel in my soul.

Read All But My Life. Really read it. You will learn something more than heroism and courage. You will learn gratitude.

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* Note that the author repeatedly mentions others who were persecuted, criminalized, and beaten/tortured/killed due to disability, age, and race (such as non-Jewish Hungarians and Gypsies). No mentions are made of individuals of varying sexual orientations. I focus on Jews in my thoughts here because this is the group whom Klein most identifies with and shares common experiences.

** Klein made use of sudden, unknown confidence and blunt honesty to get Polish natives working for the Nazis to assist her and her friends. She demonstrates almost reckless courage to many captors, both male and female. Remarkably, she gets what she needs almost every time. She did not, however, use sexuality to earn favors or get out of trouble. In fact, she refuses this and almost loses her life for it, if not for a friend's quick thinking (which friend is the first of her quartet to perish).

*** There are several instances in the epilogue that hint at post-traumatic stress disorder. I found Klein's responses to these situations inspiring, and I believe that other individuals who live with this illness would find her experiences useful. It certainly has helped me after an initial reading, and a second, more thorough look at the passages and stories shared.

don't want, can't have...

I don't want to write any more papers (especially dumb ones that are just busy work).
I don't want to read any more textbooks.
I don't want to get up early anymore.
I don't want to tutor papers anymore.
I don't want to go to school anymore.

I want to write poetry.
I want to read real books.
I want to get up when my body is done sleeping.
I want to not tutor.
I want to learn -- really learn.

And I really want to have time to paint my nails.

That would be grand.

doubt...

My mind has been full of big, frightening, unwanted thoughts. Questions have arisen that I've never allowed myself to dwell on before, and for a few days I've wrestled with answers that alternately make me laugh or terrify me (because I have nothing else to think about right now).

While reading my Democracy in America book by Alexis de Tocqueville (which was supposed to be completed last Friday -- hey, it's a big book), I ran across something that made me feel angry, silly, and relieved, but also more uncertain. Here Tocqueville quotes Pascal, French philosopher:

"To make a mistake by thinking the Christian religion is true is not a very great loss, but how unfortunate to make the mistake of believing it is false!"

Interesting thought, which somehow still doesn't satisfy the questions that have slipped their way into my head.

jumping on the zombie wagon...

Ever since the beginning of the zombie craze that has swept the world of cyberspace, I have wondered at how something so gruesome and creepy could ever be popular. Zombie books, zombie films, zombie TV shows, zombie memes, zombie zombie zombie everything -- all packed full of brain-seeking, limb-twitching, face-pulling, moan-making living dead creatures.

Not appealing. Not at all.

I'll admit that I've read my share of zombie themed YA fantasy and sci-fi novels. The Forest of Hands and Teeth is a particularly interesting read. It was fascinating because of the detail and, well. The title and cover art alone were enough to make me pick it up off of the shelf (yes, I do choose books based on their covers). But other than that, I've never been into the "genre." It's always creeped me out.

Thanks to Parker, though, I took my shot at entering the zombie media. He invited me to auditions for a music video that is being put together by his brother. I had no desire to audition, but since I only get to see Parker every once in awhile, I decided to go and say hi, maybe watch some people show their stuff. No way in heck was I going to try out though. Do you have any idea how stupid people look when pretending to be zombies? Pretty darn stupid. In a highly entertaining sort of way.

Of course, Parker tried to get me to audition. So did his brothers, sister, and sister-in-law who were there. I was too scared though, and too afraid. I watched and found myself wishing that I could have a shot. It was a short-lived wish, though. Too scared. I didn't want to look dumb.

After saying good-bye to Parker and heading home, I started re-thinking my decision to not try out. I inventoried the reasons why I hadn't done it. 1) I was afraid I'd look like an idiot, 2) there was a very good chance I'd look like an idiot, fear aside, and 3) the only thing I know about zombies is from books and memes -- I've never actually seen a film or show that has them in it, so I didn't know how they moved or sounded or anything.

Sitting at a stoplight, I realized that the main thing holding me back was fear of looking stupid. Then a new fear crept in. It was a fear that if I didn't try out, I'd get home and regret it, especially when the video comes out. I'll see it, and it'll probably be cool, and I'll think "Girl, you are so stupid. You totally could have had a chance at being in this -- and you chickened out. Just like everything else you've ever not done."

That was it. I turned the car around and drove back, thinking up potential movement I could do when I got back. I ran into the room, and when Parker's sister Whitney asked if I'd changed my mind, I said, "YES. Because I'm tired of missing out on things because I was too afraid to try -- I'm not doing that today."

And guess what? All of them clapped for me! All of these grown-ups who had been trying to get me to try out for two hours clapped. One of them, I don't even remember her name, told me that she was proud of me. They didn't even know me, but they didn't treat me like I was dumb or silly or immature (which I am).

So I tried out! I had no idea what I was doing, and my face was red the whole time, and I kept giggling -- but I did it! It was scary, and my legs felt like jell-o, but I did it. And now I'm sitting here in my house not feeling sad or regretful -- I feel good. 

Was I scared? You bet. Did I look stupid? Of course. But did I do it? Yep. I did. Take that, zombies. I'm not scared of you.

the Spanish Vest Pocket Dictionary...

Quite the mouthful of a title for a book that fits in the back pocket of my jeans.

The book isn't actually my dictionary. I was cleaning out the drawers and cupboards at work today, and I came across the little book. It was hidden in a drawer full of old magazines and catalogues that we use for ordering toys and party supplies. The red-orange color and the long proclamation of the contents (I can use lots of words, too) were completely out of place. After examining it from a distance, I picked it up to take a closer look.

Memories cascaded into my mind the moment I opened the book. It was like a magic spell was cast when I touched it, bringing to life long forgotten happenings.

It was his book. He must have left it on the counter one day, and it just got swept into a drawer and forgotten. He used to thumb through it and find random Spanish words to learn their meanings. Sometimes he would read a word aloud and tell me to guess the meaning. I rarely got it right, but every once in while I'd surprise both of us.

Now The Spanish Vest Pocket Dictionary is sitting on my bedroom floor. It spent most of my shift in my back pocket, where it fits nicely. I've used it twice, too, to aid me in helping a customer who didn't speak English very well. The customer told me that he was looking for a "mantel." He brought up one of the plastic table covers, and he wanted to know what the translation of "mantel" is in English. It means "tablecloth."

I like things -- things as in those that remind me of people and places and events. Mostly things that remind me of people that I care about. Keeps them close, you know? Like having a friend you can take with you every day in your pocket.

It's funny what reminds me of people. It's funny how attached I get to objects -- even little objects, like a leaf given to me by a friend on a walk, or a pebble from a little girl, or movie ticket stubs from an outing. Add a book to the list of treasures -- at least until I can return it to its proper owner.

Thanks, vest pocket dictionary. Thanks for the memories, and thanks for helping me out today.

order of the day (but not particular)...

first. OW. But not as bad as usual. Yay pain killer.

second. Fettucini alfredo is delicious, even if the noodles are a little too hard and the sauce isn't quite creamy enough.

third. I voted today. Go me.

fourth. The King of Attolia is just as good the second time as it is the first time.

fifth. Also, Hawksmaid is really good, too.

sixth. I want to watch Real Steel. Never seen it. Want to. I don't have it. Shoot.

seventh. Sleeping after 8:30 is starting to become impossible.

eighth. Sometimes, I would like a hug. Then when someone hugs me (even when I want one), I feel uncomfortable and wish he/she hadn't. Weird.

ninth. The only place in my house that isn't hot (even with the air conditioning on) is my bedroom. WIN.

tenth. On Sunday I wrote letters for four hours. FOUR.

eleventh. I called three people a mean name in my head today and felt horribly guilty for it -- but only for about two seconds because my coworker told me that she'd used the same word in her head, too. Some people's children*!

*because every grown-up is somebody's child

twelfth. I miss Parker. A LOT. A LOT, a lot. And I miss Brianna. A LOT. BUT I get to see Brianna tomorrow, and Matt and Ann. So that will be very good.

thirteenth. Do you ever have days where your bra just does not fit right? One of those days.

fourteenth. Craving sugar like crazy. Boo.

fifteenth. Rent for the month = $70. That was a relief, considering my textbooks for the upcoming semester cost $135 (and I still need to buy about 8 more).

sixteenth. I've had six tutorials this week at the writing center so far. I get so many personal essays for pre-professional applications, it's insane. Maybe I'll be a part-time essay consultant. Oh, wait...

seventeenth. Seventeenth is a very strange looking word.

eighteenth. Poor little Makay broke his elbow and had to have surgery on it last week. His mom told me when I visited him that he hadn't smiled as much that whole week as he did when I was with him. That made me feel really good, and it made me happy that I could help Makay feel better. I took him a small gift bag full of fun toys from work, and tied a "mini" bouquet of balloons onto the bag. I'll make another one and take a picture of it to share, because it is so stinkin' cute. It could be on Pinterest (but it was my idea, so -- I'm just awesome).

nineteenth. Do you have any idea how freakin' happy I am being single? I will post more about it once I force myself to sit still for half an hour and write it.

and now, my favorite:

twentieth. I have been asked three times today if I am a Democrat or a Republican and who I voted for. For the longest time I couldn't figure out why. Then I remembered -- Captain America t-shirt on voting day. Right.

how to be perfect...

In honor of post number 900 (wow -- where does the time go), I am supplying a list of how to be perfect.

Okay, so these won't make a person perfect, but I do like them. I read these in a post from distracted by shiny objects over at A Tidings of Magpies, and I copied down a few of the items on the list that I liked.

Excerpts from How to be Perfect by Ron Padgett:

• Get some sleep.
• Be friendly. It will help make you happy.
• Hope for everything. Expect nothing.
• Take care of things close to home first. Straighten up your room before you save the world. Then save the world.
• Be nice to people before they have a chance to behave badly.
• Wear comfortable shoes.
• Do not spend too much time with large groups of people.
• Plan your day so you never have to rush.
• Show your appreciation to people who do things for you, even if you have paid them, even if they do favors you don't want.
• After dinner, wash the dishes.
• Calm down.
• Don't expect your children to love you, so they can, if they want to.
• Don't be too self-critical or too self-congratulatory.
• Imagine what you would like to see happen, and then don't do anything to make it impossible.
• Forgive your country every once in a while. If that is not possible, go to another one.
• If you feel tired, rest.
• Don't be depressed about growing older. It will make you feel even older. Which is depressing.
• Do one thing at a time.
• If you burn your finger, put ice on it immediately. If you bang your finger with a hammer, hold your hand in the air for 20 minutes. You will be surprised by the curative powers of ice and gravity.
• Do not inhale smoke.
• Take a deep breath.
• Do not smart off to a policeman.
• Be good.
• Be honest with yourself, diplomatic with others.
• Do not go crazy a lot. It's a waste of time.
• Drink plenty of water. When asked what you would like to drink, say, "Water, please."
• Take out the trash.
• Love life.
• Use exact change.
• When there's shooting in the street, don't go near the window.

There's some good advice in there (particularly that last bullet). If doing some of these don't make you perfect, they'll at least help you feel happy, right?

And a personal "how to be perfect" from me: notice the little things, for the little things can hold more beauty than the grand.

the 7 habits of highly effective people...

A friend told me to read this book. He said it was life changing for him, and that he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Want to hear a secret?
I hate it a little bit.
Okay, so maybe hate is a strong word, but I don't like it very much. And the fact that I don't like it points to the problems that I have. So it's this circle dealio that goes from me reading a section ----> seeing myself in a section ----> I don't like what the section says about people like me ----> trying to change is really difficult ----> I feel like a total failure ----> those feelings are further evidence that I am "reactive, dependent, and immature" ----> I feel like a terrible person ----> stupid book ----> REACTIVE, DEPENDENT, IMMATURE ----> tears. For hours. Like, really.

I don't think I'm supposed to take this book personally...it's kind of a bad thing. But it's more like I'm seeing so many things that I do and already knew I needed to fix about myself, so the book reinforces how awful I felt about my "progress" in the first place.

Meh. This post doesn't make any sense. I'm just spewing.

Hm. That word always makes me think of house elves.

Whutevah.

sometimes I wonder...

I've learned a lot this weekend. I've learned that I
1) don't flirt,
2) don't understand adult humor,
3) don't understand most normal humor,
4) that if ever I am a distressed damsel, I usually have to take care of the problem by myself because I'm either afraid to ask for help or asking for help would be pointless, and
5) that I'm socially bashful and on many occasions very awkward.

How do I know this? Well, either someone told me or, after noticing patterns in my life, I came to the conclusions myself.

Last night I went to a play with my parents. It was supposed to be a comedy buuuuuuut I wasn't laughing. Why? Because I didn't get any of the jokes. My parents were both laughing their heads off, as were most of the people in the audience. Not me though. That was a weird start to the night, being the only one who didn't get the jokes. Heck, even the 12-year-old kid whose dad was in the show was laughing! Sometimes I wonder...

This particular group of friends has a tradition of going to IHOP after a show, whether they performed in it or not. The three families (mine, the Carrascos, and the Poulsens with Jaden who is their cousin) made a sort of caravan over to the nearest IHOP and we, as usual, took up three tables. I sat with the younger people, me being the oldest at nearly 20 and the youngest being 11 (who I met when she was 9 months old). On the other end sat the real grown-ups, or at least age wise. I'm not sure about the maturity level...lol.

As I sat with the kids, one of them being one of my best friends (Jaden), I didn't understand half of what they were talking about! Their jokes and comments and such just went over my head. Or sometimes I got the gist of it, but I didn't want more than the gist because I could feel my cheeks burning (as Mitchell so kindly pointed out several times). To top it off, Mitchell started giving me advice about boys. And a lot of the advice sounded rather sound, too. For nearly twenty minutes I received relationship advice from a 12-year-old. A TWELVE year old! What is WRONG with me?! Sometimes I wonder...

So, I don't get adult jokes. So, I don't get teenage jokes, either. So, I'm the only one besides the 11-year-old who can't claim to have some sort of relationship, though I'm not sure if it counts for them or not. I mean...how lame is it to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend when all you can do is hang out at recess, and you have to ask your mom to drive you over to his or her house to hang out? You can't even go on a date because you don't have any money! So, why do these things bother me so much when none of them really matter? So what? Whatever the what is, it seems to mean a lot more to me than it should.

It was an awkward night for me. It's been an awkward weekend, to be honest. Not to mention this morning that I got super dizzy in the shower, thought I was going to throw up, and suddenly found myself on the ground wondering what the heck happened.

My sister Meghan has always (and I mean always) conveniently passed out while surrounded by strapping young men who carry her to a couch, bring her water, and do all sorts of heroic acts to make the distressed damsel comfortable. Me? I pass out in the shower. There is nothing dignified or romantic about that. Sometimes I wonder...

And, yes. Someone told me I don't flirt and that I'm socially bashful and often awkward. Gee...thanks for that. Now that I know what my problem is, I'm going to go read my book. Maybe I'll get lucky and find a Beast to fall in love with me...after all, he does have a beautiful rose garden in which I could amuse myself for hours on end. If I take care of his flowers well enough, do you think he'd overlook the bashful awkwardness? I'll take my chances.**


**I'm not bitter. I'm actually making myself laugh...seriously.**

start of something new...

Last week I went on a date and bought a book of recipes. I have to admit I am now a little more excited about the book than the date; Sean and I are great friends, and we have fun together, BUT! The book is a recipe for cake bites. There are 101 recipes in this book. What is NOT exciting about cake bites?!

This book came home with me and keeps me occupied for hours at a time. For example: I like to read through the different recipes and make plans as to when I can make something new and when I can purchase the ingredients I don't have. I'm creating a kind of schedule for special ones to try, especially since the holidays are coming up and I want to be able to make some for my family/close friends. These little treats are so much fun to make! You don't even have to do them all in one day, which is awesome.

I've only made one batch so far, and now that I know what I did wrong I expect to be able to do much better in the future! I didn't make any super huge mistakes--the cake bites are very much edible and very, very cute. I know now though that it's best to use only the amount of frosting that the recipe calls for (one cup as opposed to all three), that chocolate really will melt on low (patience!), and that it is best to freeze cake bites on a cookie sheet that is covered in wax paper to keep the cakes from sticking to or staining the pan (oops).

Here are my little Halloween ghosties! Feast your eyes on these (mint chocolate cake bites shaped like ghosts, dipped in melted vanilla flavored almond bark and decorated with glitter black and orange edible gel):



I also spent the week getting a treat ready for my primary students. I wanted to do something special for them since it's a Halloween holiday weekend, so I went to the local Dollar Tree and stocked up on items to fill a few Halloween goodie bags. They turned out way better than I expected them to! It was so much fun to put these together. Picking out the items and making each bag was very happy making. The kids were all so good today! I don't know if that's because I'm finally getting this teaching thing, or if it was the bribery...

day 89...

a picture of something I could never get tired of doing...

I kind of love to read. A lot. It's one of the most wonderful things in my life, being able to pick up a book and fall into a story. Yes, sometimes I get a little bored of a particular story, or my eyes start to hurt after two hours of moving my eyeballs in tiny zigzag patterns across a page so I have to stop BUT I love to read. There's something incredible about a story, where it can take you, and who you meet. Being able to read is a skill, a gift, that I treasure.

The library is a wonderful place. You should go sometime. ;)

bored silly...

I am so bored. Really. Why am I bored? Because I can't DO anything. After two crazy weeks of vacation and Education Week (which, may I say, was amazing), I am back to being stuck in bed or on the couch, or at least sitting down.

This is hard. It's really, really hard! The only thing that keeps me from throwing my hands up in frustration is the promise that I'll be well. I know what is happening to me (ish) and I know why and I know it will end--but I don't know WHEN it will end.

In the mean time, I'm bored. School is back in session, and I am the only one in my family not going this semester. My sisters are gone, mom is getting ready to start school on Monday, dad is at work. It's lonely, being sick! Thank goodness for my little dog. She's quite the cuddly fluff ball, let me tell ya. And there is something to look forward to: LDC starts on Monday! If I can get out of bed to attend...*sigh*.

What do you do when you're bored and can't get to a library? Thoughts? Suggestions? Come visit me? ;)

It could be worse. I'm actually really lucky, you know. Having the knowledge that it will get better gives me such hope, and it's keeping me going. Having my family helps, too--they're so helpful and they make it a lot easier. Sometimes it's the boredom that's the worst.

LDC starts in less than a week. Happiness. :)

day 50...

a picture of my most frequented place...

There are many places around town that I go to a lot. One is work. One is my own home. Friends' houses, Walmart, the mall, the bank, the gas station. There is one place, however, that I go to once a week at least, and it's one of my favorite places in the whole world. It's my town's public library. There's something about the library that is just comforting. I always feel happy there, and safe, among the thousands of books.

It's amazing how many words are held within that building--how many names and dates and ideas and stories--all in one place. I love books. I love to read and learn, to get caught up in a story. The library even smells likes the books, paper and ink and binding glue, mixed with dust and the potted flowers. To me, it's one of the best places on earth to be.

day 23...

a picture of my favorite book...


This book? I love it. A lot. It's all about getting over the pain and fear of the past. It's about taking chances and becoming a whole person who lives a fulfilling life, instead of a person who lives a half life hidden behind fears and mistrust.

Great book.

tender mercies...

Today could have been really terrible. I don't know what the heck was wrong with me. Nothing should have been wrong, and nothing was wrong. I just felt all wrong--sick, tired, uncomfortable in my own skin, angry, alone, scared of everything, et cetera. As Ron Weasley would say, "How could someone feel all of that at once? They'd explode!" Well yes, Ronald dear. There were multiple water shows (not set to music or timed) throughout the afternoon, and in short it wasn't fun or pretty. There is nothing attractive about crying. Everything could have been a lot worse though. Starting from early this morning and continuing throughout the day I have seen so many good things. There have been dozens of tender mercies and little blessings that have helped me from completely losing control. In truth, they started last night. I'll list a few things that touched my heart and made me smile (or at least cry happy tears instead of sad ones).

1. Last night I had the chance to see several of my friends who I haven't been able to visit for about a month. A shout out to Steven for inviting my sisters and me to his party and for the great time!


2. Last night was also the first time I have ever had a problem with my car when I was the responsible person around AND the only driver...I have no knowledge of cars whatsoever. While I was with my friends, we noticed that there was steam coming out from under the hood. When we opened the car, we couldn't help but notice a steady stream of liquid coming from a gash in a large black tube. The radiator hose had sprung a leak, a clamp on the engine had come loose, and all of the radiator fluid was covering the ground (and my hands and shoes...it was hot and it hurt). Thank heavens, literally, that Taylor's dad was able to come help us. He used to be a mechanic, and he fixed my car. It was amazing: he went and bought new parts for the car, bought a gallon of radiator fluid, fixed the car, and wouldn't let me pay him back for it. He barely even let me thank him! I'm so grateful for his help.


3. This morning wasn't cold! It was a little chilly, but warm enough that I could walk from the parking lot instead of waiting for the shuttle and enjoy the sunshine.


4. I got to sing with LDC in the Institute devotional today. There was a very special feeling about that performance, and I was grateful to be able to participate and be a member of this choir. I'm so glad that I've had this chance; it's been such a blessing in my life.


5. Not only did I get to sing with my friends, I got to have lunch with them, too! Brianna invited me to sit with her and then forced me to eat, for which I am grateful. Sometimes it's hard for me to eat when I'm around a lot of people. She knows that about me and won't let me get away with saying I'm not hungry. I love that girl, for so many reasons. She's been a miracle in my life many times this past year. I also got to talk with Erin for a little while, and Brady too. There are so many wonderful people in this choir, and some of them are becoming and have become my dearest friends.


6. My Rapunzel charm bracelet came in the mail today!


7. Another item came in the mail for me that I wasn't expecting: I received a letter from one of my missionary friends. It couldn't have come at a better time. The words he wrote changed some of my tears from those of sorrow and pain to hope and gratitude that he had taken the time to write to me, and because the message was exactly what I needed to hear today. "Bad can never endure when good is coming." Good is coming. It is always coming. The waiting and hoping for it is hard, but it will always come.


8. I was able to visit my dear second family. I saw the kids and Sister Raddatz yesterday, and today I got to see all of the family except for Brother Raddatz. It was great to see Jason and Jordan; it's been a long time since I got to say hello to either of them in person. Jordan told me that he came to the LDC performance today because he didn't have classes. That made me feel really good, to know that I'd had a friend cheering me on in the audience.


9. Three words: four hour nap.


10. My family puts up with me and loves me even when I'm a nervous wreck, and they take care of me when I'm too tired, too unwilling, or too irrational to take care of myself. I love them so much.


11. Mom took me on a date to the bookstore (after persuading me for half an hour to get out of my bed and go play with her), and because she is braver than I am she was able to talk to one of the cashiers and get me 50% off on a recipe book I wanted because the book has a rip on the cover. The other great part about it? The recipe book is a Hershey's dessert book. It's all about CHOCOLATE. And, because it was already on sale, mom's ability to get a second discount made the book only $3.00. How much better can you get?! Not to mention I was able to buy it with a gift card that I got two Christmases ago and lost...I found it last week. Perfect, no?


12. She also bought me a Cookies n' Cream CreamKula at the coffee shop. They can make all of their drinks without coffee, so I didn't feel guilty at all about it. And I tried very hard to not remember the last time I was at the bookstore and had the same drink...I was on my first official date with the friend I wrote about a couple of days ago. Mom kept talking to me and telling me to forget about it and enjoy my drink. I did. :)


13. We found a "Tangled" coloring book!! And since I still had money on my gift card...it was pretty much free for me. I can't wait to start coloring it in!

Bad really can't endure. Good things will always come. I saw that happen today. Yes, things hurt. Things are hard. There will always be pain and tears. That can't be helped. But good things can always make life a little easier, a lot happier, and full of love. Today, I am grateful for my family and my friends, and for the proof that Heavenly Father does love me and cares enough to show me.

reading about the immune system is making me sick...

I really don't want to know HOW my immune system works or WHY it works. I feel achy and ill learning about it. As long as it works, I don't care. I just don't want to know!

I'm currently reading the chapter in my Health book about vaccinations and infectious pathogens. Just the words about needles, medicines, dead microbes, cell damage, parasites, system structures, and donated blood plasma is making me hurt all over.

Is there a vaccine for that?

stupid...

I am. 'Cause I didn't realize that all college teachers are different and make up their own rules. My Health professor decided that his class would end five days before the end of the semester, so all of the quizzes, tests, and assignments were due last night. Meaning I pretty much failed the class.

Now that you're all worried-ha. Yes, the stuff is all due, but I wrote him an email asking for the criteria to get an "I" in the course, and he responded saying "I don't give 'I's, so just finish the tests and quizzes and take the final." Score! Thank you, mom, for telling me to email him. I'll still probably end up with a B at the most, if I get 150/200 on the final. I'm so stupid.

Do any of you find me annoying? Or rude? Or something else like that? Let me know so I can fix it.

My family and I (excluding dad-he's on another business trip) drove up Provo Canyon today to go on a "picinica". I used to say that when I was little, and now my mom uses it. We had a lovely chicken and grape pasta salad, and I messed around with my camera. Misty had fun lying in the grass. She has exploded, seriously. I can't figure it out, but she's taller, longer, and just bigger. It's so weird. We all thought she'd stopped growing. Now this little white monster dog is running around the house, tripping on her spindly legs. While we were eating she sprawled and turned her nose up at her own dinner. Word to the wise-never feed a Maltese, even a half Maltese, people food because she will never eat her own again.

There were a lot of family groups at the canyon park. Each was at least three generations-grandparents, parents, and children. Two of these families collided when a small girl hurled a large flying disc with all of her might, and it landed in the other family's fire pit. The grandma of the second family let out an "uh-WHA!" and began kicking the disc to get it out of the flames. The small girl began to cry, and was given a few Starbursts from the grandma and the teenage boy of the second family. I tried not to laugh for the little girl's sake, but it was funny.

The only problem with the campfires is that now I smell like woodsmoke. It takes so long for me to get it out of my hair. Like from Girl's Camp-THREE DAYS!!! AND I washed it three times each of those days. NINE times before my hair was back to normal. That's the trouble with some good things. It's good while it's happening, but sometimes the lingering effects are a little bit annoying. Break out the shampoo, people!

Dessert was from Macey's-individual pints of ice cream. Yes, I can eat one in a single sitting, and yes, I know I shouldn't. At least it wasn't a quart, right? All in all it was a fun evening. Now I just have to finish five more chapters for this Health class. I'm so stupid! Perhaps I'll learn something from this, like make a schedule so I know when stuff is due. That might be a good idea.

Maybe I can learn how not to be stupid. Is there a "How Not To Be Stupid for Dummies" out there yet? Someone write it so I can have it on my bedside table. It would probably get more use than any book I've ever read.

20 ?s...

1. What are you listening to?

My family watching “Glory Road”.

2. If you were a crayon what color would you be?

The sharp one, I don’t know. You tell me.

3. Any favorite smells?

Well, it’s not you. ;)

4. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

My daddy. He’s on a trip. Again.

5. Do you use nail coloring?

Nope. I have a habit of biting my nails when nervous, so they’re not long enough to paint.

6. Favorite sport to watch?

Diving, ballet (it counts), figure skating (solo and couples), ice hockey.

7. Hair color?

Some weird shade of everything, including white.

8. Eye color?

Ice blue, or grey blue, depending on what I’m wearing and who is commenting.

9. Do you wear contacts?

Thank goodness I don’t need any gear for my eyes. I have enough trouble with mascara and liner as it is.

10. Favorite food?

This one always comes up, doesn’t it? I can’t think of any right now. But I have been thinking Arby’s for about five days. No go-gotta get my hair trimmed.

11. Scary plot or happy ending?

What constitutes a scary movie? Lassie had me in tears, I was so scared.

12. How fast do you type?

Between 80 and 110 words per minute, depending on what I’m doing/what the temperature is/if I’m actually focused/length of words.

13. What color of shirt are you wearing?

A blue, over-sized, long-sleeved button up.

14. Summer or winter?

At the moment I’m thinking of winter. Halloween, Christmas, you know. And snow.

15. Hugs or kisses?

I like chocolate.

16. Favorite dessert?

Rice Krispy Treats for da WIN!!!

17. Last song you heard?

“Somewhere Over the Rainbow”

18. Black or white?

Black or white what? That is a potentially dangerous question.

19. What book are you reading now?

The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner. This one is harder to read than the first one; there’s more politics and intrigue so there’s more detail.

20. What’s on your mouse pad?

My mouse is so cool, his pad has an advertisement for Provo School District’s Career Tech Education program on it. Rock on.

OMGosh!!!!!!!!

Wow. Wow, wow. I read a book a few weeks ago called The Glass Harmonica by Louise Marley. I also posted a review for it on one of my Reading Worlds lists. And guess who commented on my review of said book? Louise Marley.

WOW!!! First Beth on this blog, then Sherwood (Smith) on Goodreads, now Louise on this blog, too. This is totally the COOLEST thing EVER!!!

I feel so lucky. :)

Reading Worlds...

Seeing as I can't sleep, I'm just going to do it now so I don't have to worry about it later. Phooee.

Two Stars and Lower:

1. Coraline-Neil Gaiman
I was thoroughly disappointed in this book. I thought it was boring, especially after all of the good things I heard about it. I will never read this book again.

Three Stars and Higher:

1. The Shakeress-Kimberely Heuston
I thought this was an interesting book. I really liked it a lot. It tells the story of a girl and her siblings who go to live with the Shakers. When she grows older, she realizes she doesn't like that life, so she leaves to make her way in the world as a doctor/healer. She comes across a new faith and has to decide between love and what she feels is right. Very good read.

2. Dante's Daughter-Kimberely Heuston
About the daughter of the poet, Dante, it paints her as an artist and very clever. I liked this a lot.

3. Climbing the Stairs-Padma Venkatraman
The author should get an award for her last name, seriously. The book was just as good; when a girl's father is horribly injured, she and her family must go to live with her father's father. The traditions of India are strictly enforced, and she has to find a way to keep living despite the changes.

4. The City of Ember-Jeanne DuPrau
Some people hated this, but I actually liked it. I thought it was clever and I can't wait to read the next one, which is sitting on my shelf waiting it's turn for August.

5. Little Sister-Kara Dalkey
This has been added to my favorites list. Mitsuko begins a quest to find her sister Amaiko's soul after a tragic loss. She faces demons, devils, and even gods to set things right. I loved, loved, loved this book.

6. The Heavenward Path-Kara Dalkey
The sequel to Little Sister. It wasn't quite as good, but I still loved it.

7. Shift-Jennifer Bradbury
When a boy tries to escape his father, his friend is blamed for it. This was well-written, and if you can get passed the few swears slipped in, it's great.

8. Peeled-Joan Bauer
The pen is definitely mightier than the sword. A high school paper reporter sets out with her friends to stop the town paper from making a mountain out of a molehill, and save the town in the process.

9. A Great and Terrible Beauty-Libba Bray
Okay, this wasn't as great as it was cracked up to be, but I still enjoyed it and want to read the next one.

10. Summer of Pearls-Mike Blakely
Interesting read, about the pearl rushes along the coast of the United States.

11. The Dead of Night-John Marsden
Second book in the Tomorrow series. Way good. I am so excited to read the third book.

12. Chanda's Wars-Allan Stratton
When a dream sends Chanda with her younger brother and sister to her mother's family, terrible things happen. But does good come of it? I'm not telling.

13. Fire and Hemlock-Dianna Wynne Jones
One of the weirdest books I have ever read. Ever. And I loved it. I still don't know what happened, so I'm going to have to read it again.

14. Castle in the Air-Dianna Wynne Jones
A sequel to Howl's Moving Castle, a young man sets out to rescue his princess and meets several more along the way.

15. Mira, Mirror-Mette Ivie Harrison
I was disappointed in this book as well, but it was still good. Just not my favorite.

16. The Thief-Meghan Whalen Turner
I really enjoyed this book, and I'm currently reading the second in the trilogy. A young thief is given a chance to escape prison if he can steal a certain mystical item. And, as he says, "I can steal anything." Loved it.

Only 17 this month. 10 less than last. Dang it. I must be getting busier.