Dear Harry,
Did Voldemort become a pile of ash because he no longer had a soul which could inhabit his body, and so disintegrated because it couldn't hold itself up anymore?
Why did the Elder wand snap so easily? I mean, it's the Elder wand. It's basically the greatest weapon ever created, but it snapped like nobody's business. Why?
Why are you wizard folk so against the Killing Curse? It appears to be the most humane magical method for killing a person during a battle. And seeing as killing people happens frequently, you know -- turning someone to a stone-like substance and blowing her to smithereens seems unnecessary.
Will Teddy Lupin become the next wizarding world hero? Because he does have almost the same circumstances of being orphaned, he has a special power, and he's your godson, Harry. So...all of the implications are just there.
WHY did Hermione pick Ron? She is way too smart and too classy for him. But that's a stupid question -- you don't always choose who you fall in love with. It just happens.
How come you guys didn't stupefy Nagini and then chop her head off with the sword or stab her with a fang? Tossing rocks at her and waiting to take a swing at her with a four-inch long tooth seems pretty dumb when you're holding a magic stick.
Harry Potter. You had the Elder wand, the Resurrection stone, AND the cloak of Invisibility. You could have been the master of Death because with the cloak, Death never would have found you, and neither could anyone else. BUT you snapped the wand, you dropped the stone, and you held onto the cloak. Either you're super noble, or you're super stupid.
I have other questions. But I'm too much of a fan to ask them -- I don't want to ruin it for myself.
Sincerely,
a confused Muggle
Showing posts with label letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letters. Show all posts
Monday, June 17, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
question mark...
dear World,
Why am I so bad at baking? No matter how closely I follow recipes, things never work out well for me.
Sincerely,
a concerned girl who made rolls which she will not be taking to her boyfriend's house for dinner because these are not going to impress his mom.
at all.
ever.
Why am I so bad at baking? No matter how closely I follow recipes, things never work out well for me.
Sincerely,
a concerned girl who made rolls which she will not be taking to her boyfriend's house for dinner because these are not going to impress his mom.
at all.
ever.
Friday, March 1, 2013
you know it's love when...
...you eat Disney princess Sphagettio's and drink Martinelli's for dinner together, and he talks about how much he enjoyed it for three days after
...he tells you that you're beautiful when your hair is a mess, you have no make-up on, and you're wearing sweats -- and you believe him
...a single text message can brighten your entire day
...you get butterflies from a simple kiss on the forehead or the back of your hand
...his advice for your biographical sketch on your scholarship application includes "write 'I'm the smartest, coolest, most beautiful girl at the school and you should give me money because someday, when my face is on a magazine, BYU will be famous, too. But not as famous as me because I'm just that awesome."
...you do dishes together and it's no longer a chore
...he tells your dog that he loves her and that she's a beautiful sweetheart
...you're encouraged to do your best and be your best, even when you personally don't want to
...he falls asleep on the floor next to the couch as you type up your paper, and when you ask him why he didn't just go home he replies and says, "Because I know that you've been hurting a lot lately, and it's easier for you to deal with when you're not alone -- just my being here helps you feel better. I love you."
...you can't help but smile at the mere memory of the look on his face when he says that he loves you
...you never open a door and you never carry something heavier than 10 pounds
...little notes and small treats mean more to you than the most expensive dinner or most elaborate evening out
...a single rose becomes a treasured possession
...you wish you could express the way you feel, but it's so incredible and beautiful that no words, no pictures, no music -- nothing -- can do justice to the joy and wonder that you feel inside
Monday, October 8, 2012
56 minutes, 23 seconds...
dear Friend,
That's the longest we've talked in weeks -- maybe a whole month.
After we got off the phone, I realized something. I wasn't in pain anymore. For the first time in four days straight, I didn't hurt. No headache, no back pain, no muscle cramps or anything. I didn't notice until I was making dinner ten minutes after we hung up. All of the sudden, the lack of pain caught my attention.
Maybe it's because you make me laugh so much -- laughter is, as they say, the best medicine.
Maybe it's because I know that you still care.
The pain is back now, but it's a bit easier to bear. Probably because I have your words to remember. You said some things that were quite timely. It's nice to know that you think I'm awesome, and strong, too. And now I have something to look forward to this weekend -- can't wait for Friday!
Anyway. I just wanted to say thank you. You probably still don't know how much you mean to me. Just know that you mean quite a lot.
all my love,
GKB
That's the longest we've talked in weeks -- maybe a whole month.
After we got off the phone, I realized something. I wasn't in pain anymore. For the first time in four days straight, I didn't hurt. No headache, no back pain, no muscle cramps or anything. I didn't notice until I was making dinner ten minutes after we hung up. All of the sudden, the lack of pain caught my attention.
Maybe it's because you make me laugh so much -- laughter is, as they say, the best medicine.
Maybe it's because I know that you still care.
The pain is back now, but it's a bit easier to bear. Probably because I have your words to remember. You said some things that were quite timely. It's nice to know that you think I'm awesome, and strong, too. And now I have something to look forward to this weekend -- can't wait for Friday!
Anyway. I just wanted to say thank you. You probably still don't know how much you mean to me. Just know that you mean quite a lot.
all my love,
GKB
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
apology, explanation, and update...
dear World,
First, an apology. I apologize for the last few days of downer posts. Summer time was rough, and autumn time has not yet lessened in the frequency of hard days. Bad news has been common, and progress has been slow.
Second, an explanation to the above apology. See, I write about these things here because it makes processing the information easier for me. Once I write everything down and send it off into the void, I can revisit the problems as a more or less objective reader. Sometimes I pretend that I didn't write the post -- sometimes I sit back and take apart the grammar and the sentence structure, as I would in the writing center. And then I read it again, this time focusing less on the words themselves, but more on possible solutions that might come to mind.
Third, an update. I again have something that I need to write about.
Dark-thirty of this morning found me up and ready in my kitchen awaiting my friend who would drive me to the specialist's office. I set up an appointment two and a half weeks ago, and this morning brought the scheduled time with it. Saying that I was nervous is an understatement. However, I was not quite scared to death, as I was fully alive and thinking about all of the "what ifs" in my mind.
I shouldn't have been so nervous. Everything went well. Every person I talked to, from the receptionist to the nurse practitioner to the phlebotomist, was kind and helpful. Rather than telling me that I was doing something wrong and causing me to feel guilty for my lack of knowledge about my body, they each helped me feel comfortable and relaxed. Their focus was on giving me information that I can use and walking me through all of the possible solutions and outcomes. Yes, medications were prescribed, and yes, lab work was required, but it wasn't as frightening as it has been in the past.
The appointment went well. I, however, don't feel well at all. The number of tests the nurse practitioner wants to run necessitated quite a bit of blood -- I ate before and after blood was drawn, but I'm still a bit shaky. There's also the fact that the results might show some serious problems, ranging from a bit serious to serious enough that I don't want to think about it.
And so I try not to think about it. But it's hard. It's hard not to be worried. It's hard not to be scared. Everything is going to work out just fine, I'm sure. I'm still scared, though.
It doesn't help that I've been having a hard time eating anything again lately. Almost every time I make or purchase a meal, I dump it, give it away, or put it back. I can't seem to eat anything. It's not that I'm not hungry -- I just don't want to eat anything. Every once in awhile, I can't eat. Food sounds so great, but if I actually try to eat it, I feel like throwing up (or do throw up). The headaches occur more frequently as well. Most likely it's due to the lack of appetite -- not only do tummies complain when they're empty, but heads want to be sure you're aware as well.
It's probably stressed related. I don't do well with change -- things keep changing quickly and adapting is hard for me. And now, more changes will be taking place. I won't mention them all here -- there are many. There are medications to be taken on a set schedule, particular foods and drinks needing to be on hand at all times, and the nurse practitioner kindly but firmly informed me that while my school is important, homework will need to take a back seat to getting sleep. She's not worried about my physical activity, but she is concerned about the amount of sleep I get. Let me just say, she's not the only one!
Everything will be okay. It really will. For now I need to force myself to eat dinner, finish some homework, and go to bed. Besides, I have something to look forward to tomorrow night!
And so, dear World, things are okay. Life really is good -- it's better if there's a way to express the inner most thoughts and feelings. At least it is for me.
your Friend,
GKB
First, an apology. I apologize for the last few days of downer posts. Summer time was rough, and autumn time has not yet lessened in the frequency of hard days. Bad news has been common, and progress has been slow.
Second, an explanation to the above apology. See, I write about these things here because it makes processing the information easier for me. Once I write everything down and send it off into the void, I can revisit the problems as a more or less objective reader. Sometimes I pretend that I didn't write the post -- sometimes I sit back and take apart the grammar and the sentence structure, as I would in the writing center. And then I read it again, this time focusing less on the words themselves, but more on possible solutions that might come to mind.
Third, an update. I again have something that I need to write about.
Dark-thirty of this morning found me up and ready in my kitchen awaiting my friend who would drive me to the specialist's office. I set up an appointment two and a half weeks ago, and this morning brought the scheduled time with it. Saying that I was nervous is an understatement. However, I was not quite scared to death, as I was fully alive and thinking about all of the "what ifs" in my mind.
I shouldn't have been so nervous. Everything went well. Every person I talked to, from the receptionist to the nurse practitioner to the phlebotomist, was kind and helpful. Rather than telling me that I was doing something wrong and causing me to feel guilty for my lack of knowledge about my body, they each helped me feel comfortable and relaxed. Their focus was on giving me information that I can use and walking me through all of the possible solutions and outcomes. Yes, medications were prescribed, and yes, lab work was required, but it wasn't as frightening as it has been in the past.
The appointment went well. I, however, don't feel well at all. The number of tests the nurse practitioner wants to run necessitated quite a bit of blood -- I ate before and after blood was drawn, but I'm still a bit shaky. There's also the fact that the results might show some serious problems, ranging from a bit serious to serious enough that I don't want to think about it.
And so I try not to think about it. But it's hard. It's hard not to be worried. It's hard not to be scared. Everything is going to work out just fine, I'm sure. I'm still scared, though.
It doesn't help that I've been having a hard time eating anything again lately. Almost every time I make or purchase a meal, I dump it, give it away, or put it back. I can't seem to eat anything. It's not that I'm not hungry -- I just don't want to eat anything. Every once in awhile, I can't eat. Food sounds so great, but if I actually try to eat it, I feel like throwing up (or do throw up). The headaches occur more frequently as well. Most likely it's due to the lack of appetite -- not only do tummies complain when they're empty, but heads want to be sure you're aware as well.
It's probably stressed related. I don't do well with change -- things keep changing quickly and adapting is hard for me. And now, more changes will be taking place. I won't mention them all here -- there are many. There are medications to be taken on a set schedule, particular foods and drinks needing to be on hand at all times, and the nurse practitioner kindly but firmly informed me that while my school is important, homework will need to take a back seat to getting sleep. She's not worried about my physical activity, but she is concerned about the amount of sleep I get. Let me just say, she's not the only one!
Everything will be okay. It really will. For now I need to force myself to eat dinner, finish some homework, and go to bed. Besides, I have something to look forward to tomorrow night!
And so, dear World, things are okay. Life really is good -- it's better if there's a way to express the inner most thoughts and feelings. At least it is for me.
your Friend,
GKB
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
in my language...
People have different ways of feeling loved and appreciated. My mom feels loved when someone listens to her. My dad feels loved when someone spends time with him. One of my friends responds well to physical affection. Another friend likes doing activities. While those are not the only ways that they feel loved, those are the primary things that help them know they are cared for. There are a lot of ways that I know people care, but the main thing for me is tokens of affection. Receiving a small gift or a note or a person doing something nice for me is the easiest way for me to recognize that someone cares. Tokens can be anything, really. They can be a note, or a call record that I can look at on a future day, or a leaf from a walk with a friend, or anything really.
Today has seen an outpouring of love in a language that I respond well to. It actually started last night. It's meant so much to me, and I'm so very grateful for the people who took the time to show me that they're aware of me.
Today has seen an outpouring of love in a language that I respond well to. It actually started last night. It's meant so much to me, and I'm so very grateful for the people who took the time to show me that they're aware of me.
- A letter from Jordan
- A voice message from Brianna that I saved on my phone
- Chocolates and lotion from my landlord's little boy because he wanted to say thank you to me for taking care of his dog
- A text message from Sierra that I was able to save and read again later
- A CD of LDC music from Ann
- Dad stopping by my house while I was at work and getting some cleaning done for me before my landlords arrived
- A loaf of bread left on my porch with a pretty ribbon that had a special message for me -- I don't know who it's from, but I'm grateful to them
- A note on my Facebook page from Alyssa
Even though it's been a hard day, I've felt loved. I have all of these little reminders that I can hold and look at and experience again. So to my friends and family, thank you.
Monday, September 3, 2012
because I checked the mail box...
I remembered to check the mail tonight for the first time in almost a week. I was expecting the usual, either an empty box or a bunch of items that would find a resting place in the bottom of the recycle bin.
Not so. Sitting on top of the expected pile of bills, magazines, and coupon books was a small envelope, a bit tattered and worn, with familiar handwriting scrawled across the front. Immediately, I recognized the script and had to restrain myself from ripping the envelope open to display the contents right then and there. I hope the neighbors weren't alarmed by the little victory dance and sudden outburst of tears that was displayed in front of the post boxes. There was nothing amiss. There was just a sudden rush of gratitude that I haven't been forgotten, a rush of gratitude and reassurance that was multiplied exponentially when I read the card tucked into the envelope.
"God definitely has a plan for each one of us, and sometimes things happen that we don't expect. But He loves us and everything He does is for our ultimate benefit."
All of the words meant so much, because each one was penned specifically for me (by a person who is very busy being a zone leader and teaching and being awesome). They were written in reference to my dad being diagnosed with cancer earlier this summer, but they apply to everything that has been going on lately: to my dad's illness, financial worries, friends' struggles, my sudden difficulty with health, school, work, relationships.
I'm so grateful for this reminder that things will be okay, and for the reminder that time and distance cannot separate true friendship.
Not so. Sitting on top of the expected pile of bills, magazines, and coupon books was a small envelope, a bit tattered and worn, with familiar handwriting scrawled across the front. Immediately, I recognized the script and had to restrain myself from ripping the envelope open to display the contents right then and there. I hope the neighbors weren't alarmed by the little victory dance and sudden outburst of tears that was displayed in front of the post boxes. There was nothing amiss. There was just a sudden rush of gratitude that I haven't been forgotten, a rush of gratitude and reassurance that was multiplied exponentially when I read the card tucked into the envelope.
"God definitely has a plan for each one of us, and sometimes things happen that we don't expect. But He loves us and everything He does is for our ultimate benefit."
All of the words meant so much, because each one was penned specifically for me (by a person who is very busy being a zone leader and teaching and being awesome). They were written in reference to my dad being diagnosed with cancer earlier this summer, but they apply to everything that has been going on lately: to my dad's illness, financial worries, friends' struggles, my sudden difficulty with health, school, work, relationships.
I'm so grateful for this reminder that things will be okay, and for the reminder that time and distance cannot separate true friendship.
Monday, August 6, 2012
taking five...
- The kitchen experiment I conducted was a success -- want some?
- Being greeted by a giant, exuberant brown dog every time I come home makes me feel very loved
- My coworkers are extremely insightful -- not to mention fun to spend time with
- Jordan's mom and I have been email corresponding for the past couple of weeks -- I love that woman
- I don't have to live in a box -- I don't even have to live at home right now -- and my House is beautiful
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
2 hours, 4 minutes, and 12 seconds...
dear Friend,
While I don't agree that I would look awesome in sparkly, orange high heels, I do agree with something that you said before. Once upon a time you said that when you talk to me about the problems I'm facing, you often gain more insight than you feel you shared. You've thanked me for coming to you with a problem -- I haven't been able to figure it out until now.
It's true. Talking to you helped me see things I hadn't considered before. My words to you offered me solutions and gave me strength. You helped me remember things I'd forgotten -- things like the fact that the Savior loves me just as much as He loves you. And that things get better because He'll help us if we ask.
Knowing that you're there makes me feel stronger and braver -- thank you for being there to lift me up.
Thank you for letting me return the favor.
I love you. And I'm always here. Hope you know that.
all my love,
GKB
While I don't agree that I would look awesome in sparkly, orange high heels, I do agree with something that you said before. Once upon a time you said that when you talk to me about the problems I'm facing, you often gain more insight than you feel you shared. You've thanked me for coming to you with a problem -- I haven't been able to figure it out until now.
It's true. Talking to you helped me see things I hadn't considered before. My words to you offered me solutions and gave me strength. You helped me remember things I'd forgotten -- things like the fact that the Savior loves me just as much as He loves you. And that things get better because He'll help us if we ask.
Knowing that you're there makes me feel stronger and braver -- thank you for being there to lift me up.
Thank you for letting me return the favor.
I love you. And I'm always here. Hope you know that.
all my love,
GKB
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
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.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
1 hour, 38 minutes, and 41 seconds...
dear Friend,
I don't know how you can get me to spill secrets and dreams and worries that I never, ever planned on expressing to anyone or anything but my dog and the walls of my bedroom. I don't know how you can tell from the initial "hello" that something is wrong, how in 1 minute or less you understand I'm holding things back.
Somehow you always have time to listen. Despite your busy life, you make time for me -- me, of all people you could make time for. You never judge me, you never put me down, you never disregard my thoughts and feelings. Somehow you always have advice and words of comfort. And no matter what, you're there for me.
During and after such conversations, I often marvel at the fact that you're still here in my life. Even though you know about my issues -- and you truly do know more than almost anyone else in my world -- you're still here. I don't know if I can express my gratitude adequately. You're still here -- even though you see my dark side.
I don't know how you do it. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. You're remarkable. Truly.
And, just for the record, I've decided...well...you really must be a super hero.
all my love,
GKB
I don't know how you can get me to spill secrets and dreams and worries that I never, ever planned on expressing to anyone or anything but my dog and the walls of my bedroom. I don't know how you can tell from the initial "hello" that something is wrong, how in 1 minute or less you understand I'm holding things back.
Somehow you always have time to listen. Despite your busy life, you make time for me -- me, of all people you could make time for. You never judge me, you never put me down, you never disregard my thoughts and feelings. Somehow you always have advice and words of comfort. And no matter what, you're there for me.
During and after such conversations, I often marvel at the fact that you're still here in my life. Even though you know about my issues -- and you truly do know more than almost anyone else in my world -- you're still here. I don't know if I can express my gratitude adequately. You're still here -- even though you see my dark side.
I don't know how you do it. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. You're remarkable. Truly.
And, just for the record, I've decided...well...you really must be a super hero.
all my love,
GKB
Sunday, May 6, 2012
pen-pal...
My PartyLand buddy and partner in adventure moved away to Idaho in April. It's been easier than I thought it would be in some ways. It's probably because I don't have a lot of time for missing anyone. There's hardly time to sleep!
He surprised me with an email earlier this week. I sent his last paycheck to him in the mail and a week later I sent a follow-up text because who knows if I actually got the correct address. I didn't get a text back, but a legit email. Which is funny to me because 1) he never gets on Facebook and 2) he seemed to want little connection to anything home related.
He did get the check, by the way.
Now we have some semblance of a pen-pal friendship. He writes, I write back, he writes again, you know how it works. It's fun, getting an alert on my phone telling me that I have a message waiting for me. I am just oh so connected -- I get 150 characters and spaces of whatever he's written as a preview, and then the wondering about what else he said begins until I can get on a computer.
I shouldn't worry about this, but of course, I have to. My friend once told me that I'm the type of person who has to find something to worry about, even if it means worrying about not having anything to worry about. 7 months of friendship and he knows me well -- sometimes it's annoying. Most times it's not so bad. Anyway -- I worry because , what happens when I have nothing interesting to say? I don't want to waste his time...if I'm busy, then he's out of control unavailable (which is one of the reasons why his emails mean a lot to me, since he takes the time out of his studying to write back).
I also worry...and this is stupid...but...what if he stops writing back?
Whatever. It doesn't matter.
He surprised me with an email earlier this week. I sent his last paycheck to him in the mail and a week later I sent a follow-up text because who knows if I actually got the correct address. I didn't get a text back, but a legit email. Which is funny to me because 1) he never gets on Facebook and 2) he seemed to want little connection to anything home related.
He did get the check, by the way.
Now we have some semblance of a pen-pal friendship. He writes, I write back, he writes again, you know how it works. It's fun, getting an alert on my phone telling me that I have a message waiting for me. I am just oh so connected -- I get 150 characters and spaces of whatever he's written as a preview, and then the wondering about what else he said begins until I can get on a computer.
I shouldn't worry about this, but of course, I have to. My friend once told me that I'm the type of person who has to find something to worry about, even if it means worrying about not having anything to worry about. 7 months of friendship and he knows me well -- sometimes it's annoying. Most times it's not so bad. Anyway -- I worry because , what happens when I have nothing interesting to say? I don't want to waste his time...if I'm busy, then he's out of control unavailable (which is one of the reasons why his emails mean a lot to me, since he takes the time out of his studying to write back).
I also worry...and this is stupid...but...what if he stops writing back?
Whatever. It doesn't matter.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
weekend...
I made callbacks for the show. I did not get cast. I'm trying not to be upset about it anymore. Being honest, though, it's really hard to accept that the directors considered me "head and shoulders" above everyone else in all but one area. My mom is on the production team for one of the shows that I tried out for, so she told me what happened. It got down to me and one other girl for a role, and even though I was proficient in every single area but the one she was good at, they cast her. Why? She's a theater major. I'm an American Studies major. Should have seen that one coming.
I'll get over it. I probably won't be trying out for anything at the Y ever again though. What's the point if they're going to pick a theater major for all of the plays, dance majors for all of the dance teams, and music majors for all of the choirs? It's hard to be told that you're fantastic, and a "first choice," then be shunted aside for someone who is in the department.
Understandable, really. But it doesn't feel very good.
The other most memorable, less disappointing thing of the weekend: guess who got a letter today? This girl did. My dad actually drove over to my work and gave me the letter because he knew how excited it would make me. I have the greatest dad ever. And he was right. I just about threw the box I was holding into the air, I was so out of my mind happy.
Elder Raddatz is doing well. He said that General Conference was awesome (which made me feel slightly guilty because I didn't catch any of it), and that he and his companion have gotten in contact with two new people who are very interested in our church. It's really great!
Jordan is doing so awesome out there! Every time I talk to his mom she has stories about how well things are going in Jordan's area. He's a busy guy! It's nice that he took the time to write to me. And I love that he still addresses all of the letters with the nickname his little sister came up with for me. Makes the letters even more special, you know?
Wow, I miss him. I need to start working on his birthday present. Any ideas for me?
PS "Once Upon a Time" is just annoying. I caught up on the episodes I've missed and the show just bugs me. So why do I watch it? I honestly do not know. Meh.
I'll get over it. I probably won't be trying out for anything at the Y ever again though. What's the point if they're going to pick a theater major for all of the plays, dance majors for all of the dance teams, and music majors for all of the choirs? It's hard to be told that you're fantastic, and a "first choice," then be shunted aside for someone who is in the department.
Understandable, really. But it doesn't feel very good.
The other most memorable, less disappointing thing of the weekend: guess who got a letter today? This girl did. My dad actually drove over to my work and gave me the letter because he knew how excited it would make me. I have the greatest dad ever. And he was right. I just about threw the box I was holding into the air, I was so out of my mind happy.
Elder Raddatz is doing well. He said that General Conference was awesome (which made me feel slightly guilty because I didn't catch any of it), and that he and his companion have gotten in contact with two new people who are very interested in our church. It's really great!
Jordan is doing so awesome out there! Every time I talk to his mom she has stories about how well things are going in Jordan's area. He's a busy guy! It's nice that he took the time to write to me. And I love that he still addresses all of the letters with the nickname his little sister came up with for me. Makes the letters even more special, you know?
Wow, I miss him. I need to start working on his birthday present. Any ideas for me?
PS "Once Upon a Time" is just annoying. I caught up on the episodes I've missed and the show just bugs me. So why do I watch it? I honestly do not know. Meh.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
kid stuff...
Another great Primary lesson today. We talked about how children can be missionaries through keeping the commandments and being good examples for their friends, families, and neighbors. Sophie made an interesting point. I'm paraphrasing, but here's the gist of it:
"There's a difference between knowing you should do something and acting what you know you should do. Like, if you tell somebody to read their scriptures but you're not reading your scriptures, it isn't as good. So being a good example means you don't just say stuff that's good, you do the stuff that's good. If you don't, then you're not a good example. You're just sort of faking it and people think you're awesome but you're not. It's a big difference."
Moments like that make me happy. She gets it. And it also makes me think, remind me how old...oh, right. You're seven. As of about a month ago. *pleasantly surprised head shake*
One of the things we talked about doing was supporting the Elders out in the mission field by writing them letters and giving them encouragement. Each child wrote a letter or drew a picture for some of the missionaries from our ward.
Putting the letters into envelopes and applying stamps was interesting. Most of the kids had never seen a stamp, which in retrospect isn't that big of a surprise. They were very intrigued by them.
Primary boy: "That's not a stamp, it's a sticker!"
Me: "No, it's not a sticker. It's called a stamp, and it's used to pay the post office to mail your letter."
Primary boy: "They get paid in stickers?! Not fair!!"
Who'da thunk, huh?
Sharing Time was also quite fun. The Primary president had a matching game for part of her lesson. There were pictures of prophets and apostles mounted on orange paper on one side of the board and pieces of paper with their names on the other side. The kids had to help each other match the pictures to the name tags. One little girl, Ella, was selected to turn over a picture to see whose face was on the other side. She got up to the board and just stood there, frowning. The Primary president asked her to turn over a picture and Ella said no. When asked why, she responded "I don't like any of those colors."
Orange is Ella's least favorite color. It's "Ew."
Quite an enjoyable Sunday meeting block.
"There's a difference between knowing you should do something and acting what you know you should do. Like, if you tell somebody to read their scriptures but you're not reading your scriptures, it isn't as good. So being a good example means you don't just say stuff that's good, you do the stuff that's good. If you don't, then you're not a good example. You're just sort of faking it and people think you're awesome but you're not. It's a big difference."
Moments like that make me happy. She gets it. And it also makes me think, remind me how old...oh, right. You're seven. As of about a month ago. *pleasantly surprised head shake*
One of the things we talked about doing was supporting the Elders out in the mission field by writing them letters and giving them encouragement. Each child wrote a letter or drew a picture for some of the missionaries from our ward.
Putting the letters into envelopes and applying stamps was interesting. Most of the kids had never seen a stamp, which in retrospect isn't that big of a surprise. They were very intrigued by them.
Primary boy: "That's not a stamp, it's a sticker!"
Me: "No, it's not a sticker. It's called a stamp, and it's used to pay the post office to mail your letter."
Primary boy: "They get paid in stickers?! Not fair!!"
Sharing Time was also quite fun. The Primary president had a matching game for part of her lesson. There were pictures of prophets and apostles mounted on orange paper on one side of the board and pieces of paper with their names on the other side. The kids had to help each other match the pictures to the name tags. One little girl, Ella, was selected to turn over a picture to see whose face was on the other side. She got up to the board and just stood there, frowning. The Primary president asked her to turn over a picture and Ella said no. When asked why, she responded "I don't like any of those colors."
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
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
be bold...
I stole borrowed this post idea from one of my best friends in the whole world, Brianna. It looked like fun, so I'm gonna do it, too.
SOMETIMES
...I get weirdly excited about getting letters in the mail. I'm the girl who screams and does a strange victory dance at the mailbox every time there's an envelope with her name on it. Unless it's another credit card invitation. No happy dance.
...I feel overwhelmed with gratitude when someone takes the time to remember me.
...I can't stop thinking about all of the stuff I need to get done...and all of the mistakes I've made.
...I just want to sleep all day, every day.
...I am kind of a bad person and always get behind on keeping my room clean. And I'm scared of everything.
...I wish I could be good enough.
...I just don't understand the allure of the Christian Bale Batman movies. I really don't.
...I can't believe how close I am to running out of stamps. I swear I just bought 100 of them a month ago. Apparently I write a ton of letters.
...I strongly consider spending a lot of money on clothes and shoes and pretty things and low calorie foods.
Try this yourself: Just copy and paste the bolded areas and fill in your..."sometimes"...
...I get weirdly excited about getting letters in the mail. I'm the girl who screams and does a strange victory dance at the mailbox every time there's an envelope with her name on it. Unless it's another credit card invitation. No happy dance.
...I feel overwhelmed with gratitude when someone takes the time to remember me.
...I can't stop thinking about all of the stuff I need to get done...and all of the mistakes I've made.
...I just want to sleep all day, every day.
...I am kind of a bad person and always get behind on keeping my room clean. And I'm scared of everything.
...I wish I could be good enough.
...I just don't understand the allure of the Christian Bale Batman movies. I really don't.
...I can't believe how close I am to running out of stamps. I swear I just bought 100 of them a month ago. Apparently I write a ton of letters.
...I strongly consider spending a lot of money on clothes and shoes and pretty things and low calorie foods.
Try this yourself: Just copy and paste the bolded areas and fill in your..."sometimes"...
Sunday, January 29, 2012
doesn't make sense...
I'm very upset at myself right now. I'm very upset at someone else right now, too. So feel free to read this post or not. It's very much a vent.
Dear person,
Why do I miss you? Seriously. I have no reasons whatsoever to miss you. You lied to me, you used me, you threatened me, you abused me. The very idea of seeing you gives me feelings that range from anger to fear to pity for the way you are. But mostly I'm afraid. Why am I afraid? See reasons listed in the beginning of this paragraph.
How could you profess to care for me so much and then treat me the way that you did? Why on earth did I think for a second that you told me the truth? You told me that you loved me. What you showed wasn't love. You placed yourself in a position where you could use your knowledge of my life and our friendship to use me and to control me. You had power, and you enjoyed it.
It was easy to tell; I could feel it when we were together. When you came back into my life after almost a year away, you were different towards me. I was afraid to be alone with you. I was afraid to talk to you. I did anyway, but I never felt safe with you anymore.
My experience with you has set me back so far. I was already scared of any sort of relationship. Then, though, I wanted one. So I took a chance on you. Even you know I'm not a risk taker. You were the biggest risk of my life. Thank heavens I didn't rush in and play for the highest stakes; I'd be way worse off. What we had couldn't even be considered a relationship. It was an almost relationship. For me, though, it was a huge, huge risk, and let me tell you--the return wasn't worth it.
Now I'm to the point where I'm so frightened of a repeat experience that I don't even want to consider a relationship. Now, men are handsome, nice, and friends. There isn't an active desire for anything more than friendship. Even the friendships I have made have come about through extreme caution. It's as though I have to put every man through some sort of test before I can trust him. Perhaps that isn't a bad thing, but it isn't a very healthy thing. Then the second my feelings start to change, I look for ways to shut them down. I actively seek ways to turn romantic feelings back into plain old friendship. Why? Because I'm terrified. What happens if he is as good a liar as you are? Obviously I'm easily deceived, and maybe the next guy will actually follow through on his threats. I don't know, but maybe.
What am I supposed to do, though? I'm not very big. I can't run very fast. I'm not very strong. You made all of those things very apparent to me. Thanks for that; now I'm aware of my physical weakness compared to the opposite gender.
So tell me. Why do I miss you? I shouldn't miss you. Why is it so difficult for me to keep you out of my mind, and out of my dreams, and out of my heart? Why do I wish that things could be different? I don't understand this. I don't understand how I can be so frightened of you and at the same time want you around so badly.
I don't need you. Why do I think that I need you?
I'm faced with all of this evidence of how unkind and uncaring you were. It's as plain as the noon day sun on a cloudless day. Which is why I don't understand why I miss you. I don't understand it at all. I never thought I'd say this, but I would very much like to erase you completely from my life. After everything I gave you and all of the love I showed you, you just used it all to hurt me. I'm not saying I didn't do anything wrong at all. Right now I don't care very much about that though. I'm the one who walked away with the emotional and mental damage. You're the one who went to the girlfriend you forgot to tell me about and got comfort from her. How nice for you to have a back-up plan. Or was I your back-up plan?
Now I will say this: I don't hate you. I just wish I could go back to the day I met you and walk away. That would have been the smart thing to do. Looking back I can see how naive I was. From day one, you had me right where you could play your hand the best. You immediately had the advantage, for I didn't know the rules of the game. I didn't even know we were playing.
Dear person,
Why do I miss you? Seriously. I have no reasons whatsoever to miss you. You lied to me, you used me, you threatened me, you abused me. The very idea of seeing you gives me feelings that range from anger to fear to pity for the way you are. But mostly I'm afraid. Why am I afraid? See reasons listed in the beginning of this paragraph.
How could you profess to care for me so much and then treat me the way that you did? Why on earth did I think for a second that you told me the truth? You told me that you loved me. What you showed wasn't love. You placed yourself in a position where you could use your knowledge of my life and our friendship to use me and to control me. You had power, and you enjoyed it.
It was easy to tell; I could feel it when we were together. When you came back into my life after almost a year away, you were different towards me. I was afraid to be alone with you. I was afraid to talk to you. I did anyway, but I never felt safe with you anymore.
My experience with you has set me back so far. I was already scared of any sort of relationship. Then, though, I wanted one. So I took a chance on you. Even you know I'm not a risk taker. You were the biggest risk of my life. Thank heavens I didn't rush in and play for the highest stakes; I'd be way worse off. What we had couldn't even be considered a relationship. It was an almost relationship. For me, though, it was a huge, huge risk, and let me tell you--the return wasn't worth it.
Now I'm to the point where I'm so frightened of a repeat experience that I don't even want to consider a relationship. Now, men are handsome, nice, and friends. There isn't an active desire for anything more than friendship. Even the friendships I have made have come about through extreme caution. It's as though I have to put every man through some sort of test before I can trust him. Perhaps that isn't a bad thing, but it isn't a very healthy thing. Then the second my feelings start to change, I look for ways to shut them down. I actively seek ways to turn romantic feelings back into plain old friendship. Why? Because I'm terrified. What happens if he is as good a liar as you are? Obviously I'm easily deceived, and maybe the next guy will actually follow through on his threats. I don't know, but maybe.
What am I supposed to do, though? I'm not very big. I can't run very fast. I'm not very strong. You made all of those things very apparent to me. Thanks for that; now I'm aware of my physical weakness compared to the opposite gender.
So tell me. Why do I miss you? I shouldn't miss you. Why is it so difficult for me to keep you out of my mind, and out of my dreams, and out of my heart? Why do I wish that things could be different? I don't understand this. I don't understand how I can be so frightened of you and at the same time want you around so badly.
I don't need you. Why do I think that I need you?
I'm faced with all of this evidence of how unkind and uncaring you were. It's as plain as the noon day sun on a cloudless day. Which is why I don't understand why I miss you. I don't understand it at all. I never thought I'd say this, but I would very much like to erase you completely from my life. After everything I gave you and all of the love I showed you, you just used it all to hurt me. I'm not saying I didn't do anything wrong at all. Right now I don't care very much about that though. I'm the one who walked away with the emotional and mental damage. You're the one who went to the girlfriend you forgot to tell me about and got comfort from her. How nice for you to have a back-up plan. Or was I your back-up plan?
Now I will say this: I don't hate you. I just wish I could go back to the day I met you and walk away. That would have been the smart thing to do. Looking back I can see how naive I was. From day one, you had me right where you could play your hand the best. You immediately had the advantage, for I didn't know the rules of the game. I didn't even know we were playing.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
welcome, Christmas...welcome, Savior...
It has been a very, very hard Christmas season for me this year. Usually it's all happiness and bustle to get things ready and beautiful to celebrate this time to remember the Savior. This year it's been less happiness and more bustle. It's very strange because I've been absolutely surrounded by opportunities to feel the Spirit and to be touched by the stories of Christmas. There have been multiple experiences when I've felt overwhelmed with gratitude and joy; almost immediately those feelings turn into deep sadness. I don't know what it is. I keep examining myself to see what I need to do differently. Believe me, I find things that need to be changed, but they don't seem to be so severe as to cause this kind of pain and loneliness.
Today has been another very hard day. I'm very grateful that yesterday was such a good day. I had a lot of things to think about and remember to keep smiling: mailing Jordan's present; delivering gifts with Ann to Teddy, the Eggetts, Brianna, and the Raddatzes; going to see A Christmas Carol with Ann and her family; watching Balto for the first time with Ann and her sister Jenny; then a very late night adventure to Walmart with Ann and Jenny in search of a tie for their uncle (whom Ann had forgotten to get a gift for).
Luckily I spent most of the day at work, 10am-4pm. I say lucky because it kept me busy thinking about things like price labels, balloons, customers and their needs, Parker and Tracy being silly with me, and all things work-related. At the back of my mind were the worries though. Little Amy being very sick. Tuition. Balancing choir, work, and school work next semester. Trying to remember the new things Tracy trained me on at work. Family relationships. Friends who I miss, and those who I see but wonder what they think of me. My plans to serve a mission.
Christmas Eve became merrier for me however. After a rather exciting adventure to the grocery store (involving many purchases of holiday ice cream flavors and sparkling cider), my family and I had a very tasty dinner of seasoned bread dipped in olive oil and herbs with glasses of sparkling cider. Then mom invited me to go with her to the store on some last minute gift searches. I make it a rule to never shop on the eve before a holiday. One day before Halloween and Thanksgiving were dangerous enough, but Christmas? I was a wee bit nervous as we headed out. However, it was rather fun! We found very magical things, including Wild Berry Sprite and peanut brittle! Oh, sugar. I love you.
The return home also brought the return of the worries and fears and a very sad feeling. Instead of going right to bed, a movie was put in: Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. I've loved it ever since I was very little. It's always been one of my very favorite Christmas movies. This was the first time watching it as an adult, and I found that I loved it even more because I caught more of the humor and more of the meaning. It touched me very deeply, reminding me again what Christmas really is about and helping to ease the hurt inside a little bit. And yes, I did cry. But don't tell my family!
Shortly after finishing the movie, I received an email from a dear friend, Amy's mother. Two sentences into the email I was in tears again. I was so grateful for her kind words, and it helped so much to know that someone out there was thinking of me with kindness. Sometimes what a person needs is to be reminded that somewhere out there is someone who cares.
The Savior cares. That's what Christmas is all about. He cared enough to give everything, to be born into a fallen, mortal world with a mortal body and mortal parents, to live as a man with fallen neighbors and strangers--so fallen that it was up to Him to save each one of us by giving His life. That's how much He cares. It's pretty incredible to think about.
And so, I say, welcome, Santa Claus! Not because of the temporary joy that is brought by gifts and things and such, but because of the reminder Santa Claus gives us. Santa, the giver and bringer of happiness on earth. Savior, the giver and bringer of happiness for eternity. Would that we could always be such as He, giving without restraint to those who are sad or hurt or alone. This is my new goal: to give and to love and to be like Jesus! What better example than He of how to live? Welcome, Christmas! Welcome, Savior!
"Poor, misguided folks. They missed the whole point. Lot's of unhappiness? Maybe so. But doesn't Santa take a little bit of that unhappiness away? Doesn't a smile on Christmas morning scratch out a tear cried on a sadder day? Not much maybe. But what would happen if we all tried to be like Santa and learned to give as only he can give: of ourselves, our talents, our love and our hearts? Maybe we could all learn Santa's beautiful lesson and maybe there would finally be peace on Earth and good will toward men."
"And in doing these things thou wilt do the greatest good unto thy fellow beings, and wilt promote the glory of him who is your Lord."
photo from AboutReligiousArt.com
Today has been another very hard day. I'm very grateful that yesterday was such a good day. I had a lot of things to think about and remember to keep smiling: mailing Jordan's present; delivering gifts with Ann to Teddy, the Eggetts, Brianna, and the Raddatzes; going to see A Christmas Carol with Ann and her family; watching Balto for the first time with Ann and her sister Jenny; then a very late night adventure to Walmart with Ann and Jenny in search of a tie for their uncle (whom Ann had forgotten to get a gift for).
Luckily I spent most of the day at work, 10am-4pm. I say lucky because it kept me busy thinking about things like price labels, balloons, customers and their needs, Parker and Tracy being silly with me, and all things work-related. At the back of my mind were the worries though. Little Amy being very sick. Tuition. Balancing choir, work, and school work next semester. Trying to remember the new things Tracy trained me on at work. Family relationships. Friends who I miss, and those who I see but wonder what they think of me. My plans to serve a mission.
Christmas Eve became merrier for me however. After a rather exciting adventure to the grocery store (involving many purchases of holiday ice cream flavors and sparkling cider), my family and I had a very tasty dinner of seasoned bread dipped in olive oil and herbs with glasses of sparkling cider. Then mom invited me to go with her to the store on some last minute gift searches. I make it a rule to never shop on the eve before a holiday. One day before Halloween and Thanksgiving were dangerous enough, but Christmas? I was a wee bit nervous as we headed out. However, it was rather fun! We found very magical things, including Wild Berry Sprite and peanut brittle! Oh, sugar. I love you.
The return home also brought the return of the worries and fears and a very sad feeling. Instead of going right to bed, a movie was put in: Santa Claus is Comin' to Town. I've loved it ever since I was very little. It's always been one of my very favorite Christmas movies. This was the first time watching it as an adult, and I found that I loved it even more because I caught more of the humor and more of the meaning. It touched me very deeply, reminding me again what Christmas really is about and helping to ease the hurt inside a little bit. And yes, I did cry. But don't tell my family!
Shortly after finishing the movie, I received an email from a dear friend, Amy's mother. Two sentences into the email I was in tears again. I was so grateful for her kind words, and it helped so much to know that someone out there was thinking of me with kindness. Sometimes what a person needs is to be reminded that somewhere out there is someone who cares.
The Savior cares. That's what Christmas is all about. He cared enough to give everything, to be born into a fallen, mortal world with a mortal body and mortal parents, to live as a man with fallen neighbors and strangers--so fallen that it was up to Him to save each one of us by giving His life. That's how much He cares. It's pretty incredible to think about.
And so, I say, welcome, Santa Claus! Not because of the temporary joy that is brought by gifts and things and such, but because of the reminder Santa Claus gives us. Santa, the giver and bringer of happiness on earth. Savior, the giver and bringer of happiness for eternity. Would that we could always be such as He, giving without restraint to those who are sad or hurt or alone. This is my new goal: to give and to love and to be like Jesus! What better example than He of how to live? Welcome, Christmas! Welcome, Savior!
"Poor, misguided folks. They missed the whole point. Lot's of unhappiness? Maybe so. But doesn't Santa take a little bit of that unhappiness away? Doesn't a smile on Christmas morning scratch out a tear cried on a sadder day? Not much maybe. But what would happen if we all tried to be like Santa and learned to give as only he can give: of ourselves, our talents, our love and our hearts? Maybe we could all learn Santa's beautiful lesson and maybe there would finally be peace on Earth and good will toward men."
-Mailman, "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town"
"And in doing these things thou wilt do the greatest good unto thy fellow beings, and wilt promote the glory of him who is your Lord."
-Doctrine and Covenants 81:4
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)