Since Nobody Reads Anymore

Since I don't think anyone reads my blogs anymore, I'm taking a risk. I'm not being as subtle with it and I'm putting things in that I would normally keep to myself. So, yeah. If you read it, it's going to be interesting....

The Joy of Braces

Well, I have braces now. Yes! *Heavy on the sarcasm* I am glad that I have them so that my teeth will get fixed, but I don't like the fact that I actually have to have them. When I first looked at myself in the mirror after they were put on I thought I was going to die. Braces are definitely NOT for me. Now my smile looks stupid, I can't smirk anymore (which really made me sad), and I can't chew. It's not because of the pain that I can't chew, it really doesn't hurt as bad as everyone told me it would. It's more annoying than it is painful. I can't chew because I had such a horrible over bite that my top teeth hit the brackets before my back teeth can close together. Really only two of my teeth can touch now. So chewing doesn't work, at all; trust me, I tried. It hurt. So pretty much all I can have is soup, applesauce, and my mother bought me some Cheetos. They were so good, but it was frustrating trying to eat them. I also pulled off a pop-tart this afternoon. It took me about twenty minutes to eat one. How sad is that? I have to go on like this for a few weeks. Now I know a fraction of what Dallas felt. But I'm not as talented as him. I almost choked a few times because I'm so impatient.

The interesting thing is that it doesn't hurt so much. It just feels restricted (which I might hate worse anyway). It's hard because I used my teeth for everything, like opening things and... well, lets just say I used them a lot. Now I feel handicapped :( The lucky thing is that I only have to have them on for fifteen months, so it really isn't that bad... sort of. I'm one of those people who the doctor tells to leave the splint on for seven weeks and I take it off at five and a half. So this will be hard since I can't do that with my braces.... hey, maybe.... :) No, I wouldn't. But really, no jerky, popcorn, Carmel, nuts, corn on the cob, or ice. Ugh! That's not fair.

And my mother is so mean!! Right after I got my braces on she decided that we were going to have barbecued hamburgers and corn on the cob. And guess who had to eat spaghetti-o's instead. And then to make things worse, her, my dad, and my brother, Jamin, start teasing me about it by asking questions like, "Isn't this good?" "Hey, Jess, do you want some?" "Jess, wasn't dinner delicious? Dad's barbecued hamburgers are so good." "Do you want some corn, Jess?" I just glared at them all. Then my dad got a brilliant idea. He would make me a complete hamburger, with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and then put in the blender for me. Oh yum! *Roll my eyes* Though I wanted some so bad I was almost tempted to try it. And the teasing goes on.

And what great friends I have! The drill team tried to convince me they were cute. Yeah.... except Heather. Love that girl. She placed her hand on my shoulder and said, "I am so sorry." Thank you. And my other friends, they are terrific. They just laughed at me. All of them. Even Dallas! He can't help laughing at me whenever I open my mouth. Maybe I'll just have to avoid him until I get them off.....
My cousin was talking to me and then laughed at the way I pronounce my S's. And Dallas agreed with him. He said, "You do sound different." Though you could easily change that word to "funny" and it would still be correct. So, yay for braces.... I guess. This could be a long year....

Bruised. Battered. Broken.

Yesterday we learned one of our competition dances for drill. We danced for six solid hours. This bruise on my arm is one of many that I acquired from this. Besides every single muscle in my body being totally sore, some that I didn't even know existed, I also have bruises on my arms, knees, shoulder, head, back and spine. If I sit in a single position for very long, it kills me to move. After I woke up this morning I lay in bed for a half hour dreading moving. Now I understand the phrase "that's going to hurt in the morning." But get up I did. Gritting my teeth against the pain like my brothers taught me.

But it was more than just physical pain I was gritting my teeth against. It seems that whenever I get things in my life to click, it doesn't hold for very long. That's how my life feels right now; somewhere between being perfect and falling completely apart. And it's probably my fault anyway. I have a tendency to bring things upon myself. And when things like this happen, I look at things differently. Like, instead of just accepting what someone says like I usually do, I start to wonder about it. I don't think too deep about it, but just deep enough to hurt. And believe me, it hurts.

Since Beau left, my parents have been trying even harder to not let me grow up, keeping me on a tighter leash. I'm not sure how it happened. I use to have a curfew of 10:30 on week nights and 11:30 on weekends. Now my curfew is straight up 10:00 for any day. I don't know if my parents are trusting me less (I don't know why they would, I haven't done anything to lose their trust) or if they think by keeping me home I'll somehow not grow up. But that, in it's own way, hurt as well. I lost my freedom the same time I lost my brother. Harsh.

And I miss Beau a lot. Right now, sitting here, listening to cd's Dallas gave me, being bruised, battered, and broken, I feel so alone. I want to talk to someone. To actually be face to face with someone and have a real conversation. Not light chatting, not an interrogation, not arguing. A conversation. But I doubt that will happen. It's been a long time since I've had a conversation that's actually done me any good.

Oh, well. Life goes on. School has started. I'll survive. And work on my book. It keeps me from too much insanity. Bruised. Battered. Broken. I'll heal eventually.

Smile. It makes life better. :)

Bad Dream

This is the story of how I found out about Eric, Kim, and Brian. I wrote it only about an hour after I heard the news. I was writing to distract myself from concentrating on the reality of it, but I couldn't get my mind off it and before I knew it I was writing about it.



My mom was talking on the phone with my eldest brother. I can't remember where I was going, just that I became interested in the conversation with her words, "Yeah, we're still going. Why?"
She was talking about the trip her and my dad were planning on for their anniversary.
"Ok. I'll call Catherine," she said after a pause, looking slightly confused.
I stood in the hallway watching my mom pace the kitchen floor as she dialed Catherine's work number.
"So what's going on?" my mother asked when Catherine answered. She stopped dead in her tracks as her hand flew up to her mouth. She bent over slightly. "Eric?" she whispered, pure horror on her face. Curiosity flooded through me as I watched my mother. This was bad, I could tell.
When my mom finally hung up she turned to me and called my father.
"There's something I need to tell you," her voice was serious, but pained, "Sit down." She gestured to the chairs in the kitchen.
Sit down? Was it really that bad? I usually stayed well enough in control that I had never needed to sit down.
"Sit down," she repeated, looking at my confused expression.
I obediently sat and rested my chin on my thumbs while I covered my mouth with my fingers. This was bad. How bad, though?
"There was a plane crash this morning," my mother sat down herself, "It took three lives."
Oh, no. I felt my throat tighten a little.
".....Eric Johnson...." What?! My piano teacher's husband? I knew him well, they were in my ward.
".....Kim Acton....." No! We were good friends. He was always teasing me at church.
".....and Brian Bayles....." At this point I felt a numbness wash over me. Brian, too? Good ole Brian who was like an older brother to me? All three of them? All who I knew so well and was so close to? It wasn't true.....
Shock, horror, and the reality of it all washed over me in an instant. It was true. I held completely still, looking across the table into my mother's eyes as tears raced down my own. No. NO!!! My insides were screaming and twisting in agony.
I stood up from the table, quickly losing control, and steadily walked to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. Then I snapped. I dropped to the floor, hitting my knees hard, but didn't feel the pain of it. My hands raised up to my head, clutched into fists. My tears were now flooding down my cheeks and neck, dampening the front of my shirt. I rocked back and forth, taking in quick gasps of air as my insides continued to wail.
They were gone. Never to joke with me again. Eric and Brian never to hold their young children in their arms again. Never watch them grow up. Kim never to see his youngest son return home off his mission. They were no longer a part of this life.
My heart suddenly jumped out to their wives. Eric and Brians' so young. Kim's now home alone.
My tears came faster and hotter. It's not fair!! I wanted to scream. My mom came in and put her hands on my shoulders.
"Do we need to get someone to work for you today?"
"I'll do it," I replied weakly, slowly standing up. I went and made the phone calls and returned to my room. My dad stepped in with a look of concern on his face. "Do you need us to stay here?" he asked, looking at my tear-streaked face.
"No. You can go." They hadn't done anything for their anniversary in a long time.
"That wouldn't be very good," he replied, "Leaving you home alone... now.... like this...."
"I'll be fine," I tried to smile as proof, "I'll just keep myself busy."
He pursed his lips and left my room. I was more in control of myself, though my tears still endlessly streamed from my eyes. I stared blankly into nothingness. It couldn't be. Three incredible men. Why? It's just a bad dream..... But it wasn't. I knew that. They were gone. Leaving so many lives altered forever.....

Writing the Night

So honestly, I don't know what to write. I just don't want to go to bed. Because if I leave this computer it means I have to go get my lesson ready for tomorrow. And after I get the lesson ready, I'll have to go to sleep. To some people sleep is the most wonderful thing in the world. They'd rather sleep than do anything else and they're always so excited to finally crawl into bed at the end of the day. Not me. I don't completely hate sleep, but you could be doing so many other things if you didn't have to have sleep. Seriously, that's eight hours (ok, eight for most people) that you could be getting things done.

Now, I'm not one of those people who is always worried about getting everything done. Oh no. That's not me. I am one of the worst procrastinators ever. But what I mean is, you could get things done so that during the day you can be free to do things with your friends or family. Does that make sense?

So really, I'm usually reluctant to go to bed, and sleeping during the day is something I usually try to avoid (unless I have a long shift at the pool). Every once in a while I'll be tired enough that I just completely crash. Like the other day, I came home from a ten hour shift at the pool, didn't even make it up the stairs. I was out on the staircase. And my dad didn't even wake me up. He just let me sleep there for about an hour until I finally woke up. That was a slightly painful rousing.

Also, if you go to sleep, it means you have to wake up. Now, I'm not saying I hate mornings. Drill has made me a morning person. I love mornings, actually. I just hate waking up, at any time really. I'm a morning person, a night person, and a day person. It's just nature doesn't want me be all three. I love the night as well; the middle of the night when nobody else is awake and the darkness is yours. I love staying up late, and I like waking up early in the morning, too. Don't ask me why. So usually during the school year I run off of about five hours of sleep or less a night. Because I go to be late, I'll wake up in the middle of the night (sometimes I'll do homework during this time), and then I wake up early (5 am) in the morning to go to drill.

Now sometimes I do love sleep. Like when I get back from a long trip, or I've been working for a long time, just things that wear me out. Then I will gladly go to bed. But under normal circumstances, I would rather stay up than sleep. And this really doesn't bode well with my parents.... or Dallas either. They would all much rather want me sleeping. And I know I should. I need to get my rest to stay in good health and keep a sharp mind (well, as sharp as my mind can get). So maybe someday I'll start sleeping like a normal person with eight hours of rest a night; going to bed at ten and waking up at six, and trying to sleep the whole night through. But that someday will not be any time soon. Not while I'm still doing drill at least. So for all you sleepers, sweet dreams. For now, I'll just keep writing the night.