Charlie Brown Christmas Tree

For those of you who have seen Charlie Brown's Christmas, you will enjoy this post. If you remember when he finds a Christmas tree and picks it up, the pine needles fall off. Of course, because that's just how Charlie Brown is. Well, this year we had a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

We got our tree right after Thanksgiving. We think it was because of that and because we had such a dry summer, it started to die quickly and lose it's pine needles. So we switched it out for our artificial tree. In the process of moving it out, it left a trail of needles covering our floor. It looked like we had a carpet of pine needles.

Losing Sight

It seems that in today's world we are losing sight of what is truly important. The values and principles that were once taught are being corrupted in their use. People are becoming so focused on what they do and how they do it that the importance of why they do it is being lost.
For example: Service. We do it because we feel love for that person and want to help. Or we feel love for God and we want to show that through helping his children.
But many people have lost sight of that. They still perform service, but they do it for the love of the world; they want to look good in the eyes of men, not God.
And so these values and principles are being twisted and forced upon us so that man may serve man, idols, and false gods in comfort and convenience.


http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2009/09/14/patrick-dorinson-pledge-allegiance-moore-obama/


"With hands now pledged to do thy work..."
(LDS Hymn 169 v. 2)

"...For thy servant I would be."
(LDS Hymn 220 v. 4)

A man cannot serve two masters; be careful whose servant you choose to be. Know not only what you are pledging to do, by also why. Let us not lose sight of what is truly important.

Energy Sources - Think Outside the Box

My Moral Leadership class can have some fairly controversial, and sometimes heated, discussions. Today we were discussing different energy sources. We talked about the pros and cons of each energy source, ways it could be improved, and whether or not we supported political stances on it.

One person brought up the point that instead of having a set energy source for every place, we should use a specific place's resources to obtain energy. For example, using solar energy would be great for a place like Arizona, but not so great for a place like Oregon. On the other hand, Oregon would be a great place to use tidal waves for energy. He made the point that each place should use a resource that they have an abundance of. Which completely makes sense.

I was really into what he was saying, but understand that even though my mind will stick with the topic at hand, it can still come up with some pretty random ideas. In this case, when the student made that point, I instantly thought of an energy source for San Juan, something that we have in abundance. Now, I know that it isn't technically a resource, but I immediately thought of prairie dogs. Bizarre, huh? Why not, though? We have so many of them, why not put them to good use in some way? I won't describe the actual ideas went through my mind of the different ways we could use prairie dogs for energy, but I will tell you, they did make laugh.

So if you've ever wondered what school is teaching me, now you know. I'm learning to expand my mind. I'm learning to think outside the box. I'm learning to use prairie dogs as an energy source.

Close

Let's try something. I want you to say the word "close." Go ahead. Say it. Out loud. "Close."
You must say it out loud, otherwise this won't work.

Now, how did you say it?
Did you say it like you would say, "Close the door"?
Or did you say it like you would say, "That was a close call"?

Say it both ways out loud. They aren't pronounced the same way.

Interesting, huh?

Halloween Pumpkins

For Halloween Aaron and I carved two sets of pumpkins. In the first set Aaron did the Batman symbol and I did Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare before Christmas. In the second set I did a little sad looking pumpkin and Aaron did a scary pumpkin.

Aaron's Batman pumpkin died before we could take
a picture a week later.

Aaron's scary pumpkin. (Brilliant of him to
use the bottom. I like it.)

My pumpkin is sad because his face was scratched.

Oogie Boogie. This pumpkin was perfect
for it. Thanks Mom!


Inverted Oogie Boogie.


Aaron did a better job. He had a time getting
it to stay though.

And this is our "pumpkin-man." He was
really cool until the fruit flies got to him...

Sorry Excuses

"Sorry, I'm just so tired."
"Sorry, I'm really stressed out right now."
"Sorry, it's been a rough week."
"Sorry, I'm just irritated with my roommates."
"Sorry, I have a short temper."
"Sorry, you were just in the way of my bad mood."
"Sorry, there was no reason for me to act that way towards you, but I'll come up with an excuse anyway to make it alright."

"I'm sorry." I have control of my emotions, my thoughts, and my temper. I will not lash out at someone when they did not do me any wrong. I will not make excuses for my actions in an effort to try and make it right. "Sorry, but I am in control and I will take responsibility, not place the blame on an outside force."

Tired = Frustration

I've come to discover that I have different levels of tired, most of which I can deal with just fine. The first stage is just being a little tired. I yawn, wish I could take a nap, but don't. This really isn't that big of a deal and it has very little to no effect on my everyday routines.

The second stage is where my mind gets a little foggy and I start making mistakes (such as in grammar and some logic). It often results from staying up later than I ought to working on homework or writing. This is where I'll actually try to take a nap sometime during the day. This stage makes my mind work a little slower and it takes longer for me to process things, but overall, I can still function.

The third stage is an interesting one. This is the stage where it goes beyond being tired. It results from not getting enough sleep for a consecutive number of days. This is the hyper stage. I don't feel the need to take a nap and everything just seems funny to me. I do over-the-top things that I wouldn't normally do. This makes it hard to sit still and focus on anything.

The last stage is tricky. I can jump to this stage without even going through any of the others. I don't often hit this stage, but when I do, it's a hard hit. This can be caused by a number of things. Generally it's when I've been doing active things all day that usually take place in the sun and then I have trouble sleeping that night, plus a few other factors. My body and mind don't have time to recover, and it results in this final stage. Like I said, it doesn't happen very often. But I hate it. My mind starts harboring illogical thoughts and tries to do more thinking than it can handle. Instead of becoming cranky or grumpy, I get quiet. I analyze everything and come up with ridiculous logic that if I were thinking straight would be able to see the faults in it.

This is what creates the frustration. I know that what I am thinking is unreasonable and I know that if I weren't so tired I wouldn't be thinking this way. But for some reason, I keep thinking that way. By the time I'm thinking clearly again, which takes some doing, I look back on it and think, "Smart one, you know that what you were thinking wasn't right." Then I kick myself and move on.

I hit that last stage today. And I can tell you, I had, or rather am having some pretty absurd thoughts. I decided to try writing about it to see if that would help. So far, so good. My mind is becoming more clear and even though I'm still tired, I'm starting to think a little more straight. Next time I'll write about something worth reading. This was more for me that for any of you. But hey, that's how you gain insights, right?

A Thought on Nothing

Do you ever get in one of those moods when you, want to write, but your mind is absolutely blank and you don't know what to write about? Or even if you did have something to write about, who would read it? Who would pause, take a moment out of their to read the simple words you have written? Really, at times like these, you could write anything and everything you wanted, and send it out into a large void, not fearing whether anyone will read it or not. Or if it even makes sense. Just get comfortable with a jar of peanut butter and some music and start writing.

Whether you say something comical or profound, it doesn't really matter. It's when you're in these moods that you write more for yourself than your audience. This is when the rough, unpolished you shines through. And it's fun. No editing. No revising. Just attitude. And things are a lot more fun to read when they a bit attitude. Unlike those monotone professors that make you fall asleep in class. "Bueller. Bueller."

It's in these writings that some people might start to question your sanity. They might start to think that you aren't normal. To that I have to say... "So what?" How boring would life if you were normal? Seriously. Think about what your life would be like if all the little quirks you and your family had were taken away. Pretty dull, huh? John Russell stated, "Sanity calms, but madness is more interesting."

So why not be a little abnormal? Why not paint the roses red? Why not celebrate your unbirthdays? And why not just be yourself? "Be yourself; everyone else is taken." (Oscar Wilde). It makes life a bit more interesting.

See what happens when you have nothing to write, but want to write anyway? You end up with paragraphs of "nothing." But sometimes the "nothings" are the best things to write.

Whip Cream Gig

This is what Morgan and I were up to during the summer. Then we were joined by Jesse, Austin, Kyle, Catherine, Bert and Matt for a performance (though we didn't get that recorded).

This was the result of the whip cream gig.

Longing

Sunday. Cooking dinner. I miss Morgan. I miss Bryce. I miss Camon and Matt. I miss Megan and Catherine and Bert. I miss them all more than I thought I would. Especially today. I'm homesick for them I guess you could say. I walked up to campus and visited Jeans today. That made me feel a bit better. I'm so glad she's here. I know I'm going to make so many new friends; my new roommates and I get along really well. But those first friends, I will never forget and, for a time, I'll not stop longing for them.

Classes start tomorrow. I'm taking sociology, BoM, moral leadership, and two English classes. I only have classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and my classes get over with by 1:00 in the afternoon. I hoping to get a life guarding position on campus and work Tuesdays, Thursdays, and some Saturdays.

Things seem to be working out really well. As much as I miss my family, I love it here. I love that I feel so happy. I love that I'm longing for my friends because it means I have friends to long for. Alright.... so I don't love that part, but I do love my friends. Miss you guys!!!

Change of Heart

Before I moved up here, I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I was going into a place where the campus alone was bigger than my hometown. I didn't know anyone there except for my brother, and he would leave only a few weeks after I got there. My general thoughts were, "If I can just endure summer, I'll be alright. Some of my friends will be coming in fall. I just need to hang on until then."

That was two months ago. In an earlier post I alluded to the fact that so much can change in two months. It seems that this is something that I just keep learning. As much as I say it, it still amazes me when it actually happens. In the past while that I've lived here, I have experienced so much. I have made so many friends. Good friends too. I have so much fun here; more than I thought I would have. I am on the Enrichment committee for our ward. I am the Family History representative for my FHE group. I have the coolest roommates. I love it here. I love my friends.

Come fall, most of my friends will be moving out to different places. Some will just move to different apartments. Others will move to different towns. As much as I want my old friends to join me in the fall, I hate to see my new friends leave. I wish there was some way I could keep living in summer while letting the fall come anyway. Living in the best of both worlds. But of course, that can't happen. Change will come whether you want it to or not. And even if you want both, you can't always have your way.

Again I'll say: So much can change in two months. Two months ago I couldn't wait for fall: "If I can just endure summer, I'll be alright. Some of my friends will be coming in fall. I just need to hang on until then." But things change: "If I can just postpone fall, I'll be alright. I've got so many friends here. I just need to hang on as long as I can." Now, I don't want summer to end. Just another change of heart.

After-Game Ride

A few weeks ago Matt asked me to be on their intramural softball team. I just looked at him like he was crazy and told him I hadn't played softball in three years. This didn't daunt him. He told me all the girls on the team weren't very good (sarcastically, of course, because Morgan was standing right next to him).

The next day Camon put me on the team and drug me to the games; I was officially part of Bacca. Quite honestly, it was a blast! And I could actually hit the ball pretty good. Anyway, last Saturday was the last game before the tournament started (It started last night). At that game, I slid into home and barely got out. The thing is, I took a direct hit to my knee cap. Now I have fluid in my knee, I can't bend it, and I'm getting hyped up on 2400 mg of Ibuprofen a day.

But it's getting a lot better. The swelling has gone down and I can bend it, but still not enough to go down stairs. I went to the game and, since I couldn't play, when picture crazy with Matt's camera. After we got home from the game, we were all just chillin' outside, Camon and Bryce still on their motorcycles. I asked Camon when he was going to take me for a ride and he said right now (or then), if my knee would allow it. I got on and was barely able to bend my knee enough to stay on. So, I went for a motorcycle ride last night.

That was the best motorcycle ride I've ever been on!!! When we would pass places like the mouth of the canyon, we would go through cold pockets of air. It was so cool. And I got complimented. :) Camon told me I was a really good passenger. I held still as we would go, and when we would take a turn, instead of leaning away from it trying to stay on, I just followed him and leaned into it. It was great. We had to cut it short though because my knee was getting a little uncomfortable. Camon said we would go on a longer one once my knee heals.

He asked me if I had ever been on a motorcylce before and I told him that Dad has a Honda Shadow. He got excited about that. He told me that he actually wants to trade his bike in for a Shadow.

I'll admit it, I've got a weak spot for motorcycles.

Homesick from Stunning Realization

It took a week, but it's happened.

I thought I would be alright because I'm use to being alone. Dad works, Mom works, and I work. She really we only see each other in the evenings, sometimes not at all. I knew I would miss lunch watching Supernatural with Dad. And I would miss Mom calling me after she made it to work just to tell me Good Morning. But I figured I would be able to cope with not having those.

Then Sunday came. Sunday was always our day to be together as a family. No one had to work. We were all there. Dad actually had me take an inventory of all our Disney movies and make a schedule. We brought back ABC Disney. We had watched it every Sunday when I was little, and now we got to watch it every Sunday as a family again.

All day Sunday we would do things together. Take naps in the living room. Talk in the kitchen while we made dinner. Watch our Disney show in the evenings. This is what finally made me homesick. I want to be with my family so much right now. But I'm in sitting in my apartment, alone. Lisa moved out. Morgan is camping. Catherine is with her fiance. And Megan is at her sister's. I feel so alone.

My Bishop asked us a question in Sacrament meeting today. "What matters the most?" I instantly thought, "My family." But of course that isn't what the bishop was referring to. The gospel is what matters most. But I still thought, "My family is what is the most important thing to me." I started wondering... If I had not been born in the church, I really don't think I would have been able to leave my family to join.

Not a very good thought, I know. But then I realized, if I hadn't been born in the church, my family probably wouldn't be what it is now. That's when I decided the question "What matters the most?" was irrelevant to me. There are two things that matter the most to me. My family and the gospel. Without the gospel, I don't know if I would be as close to my family as I am now. But without my family, I would not have a Celestial goal. How could I possibly strive towards the Celestial Kingdom if I didn't have my family to share it with?

I love my family. I miss them so much. And right now, I am terribly homesick.

Slept Like Home

I now have my own bed. And I slept good last night. Really good. But that was bad. I woke up this morning and it felt so much like home that I start feeling for my dog. I didn't find her, so I sat up to look for her and realized where I was. I miss my dog. I miss my family too. But I can't ever talk to my dog her email her or anything. I've just disappeared from her. Dad says she's just being mopey since I didn't come home. I hope she doesn't die of depression. It really honestly feels weird falling asleep and waking up without my dog there on my bed. She's been sleeping on my bed for the past 7 1/2 years. Old habits die hard.

Complications and Frustrations

About three days before I was suppose to come up to Provo, my phone broke. It won't turn back on. The warranty ran out on it a year ago, so there was nothing I could do except buy a new phone. But, since there is only a month left in the contract, that would be an even bigger waste of money.

I reach Provo Tuesday night, only to discover that I can't move into my apartment until Monday, the day classes start. So I live with Trent and Heidi for a week, sleeping on a blow up mattress.

When my parents leave Sunday afternoon, Mom lets me keep her cellphone so I'm not completely shut off from the world. Sunday evening, the phone breaks. "Oh I killed it! Everything I touch is ruined!" So much for not being completely shut off from the world.

Monday I have classes. During my dance class I discover that it will probably be dropped because there aren't enough people enrolled. I'm about 86% sure that the class is going to get cancelled. I just hope I can get into another dance class.

I moved into my apartment Monday evening (yesterday). I live with 4 other girls. In my building there are about 17 girls (give or take a few). Our building is across the street from a house of boys. And we're just the first two buildings on the street. It's a cool little place, The Colony.

Trent didn't like the idea of leaving me with no way to contact anyone, so he let me borrow his spare laptop until I decide to buy it or otherwise. So now, I have communication. And more good news!! Mom's cellphone was still under warranty so I'll be getting a new phone within the next week. It still bites though; paying for three lines of service and only having one phone. Complications and frustrations.

Creepy Stalker

I come home from work Tuesday night (the one before last Tuesday) to find a bag of Funyuns and a Symphony bar on my bed. It was getting close to my moving away date, so I thought it might have been my parents. I confronted them. They had no idea who it was. They were gone when the surprise was delivered.

My next thought was Jeannie. I had been having a hard time and she was making sure she was there for me. But it wasn't her either. In fact, she was mad because she was planning on sending me a flower (which was beautiful) and kidnapping me, and this person had stole her thunder with onion flavoring and musical chocolate.

My next thought was Dallas since he was the only other person I could think of who knew where my room was. I quickly dismissed this idea and confirmed it. He also had no knowledge of this little scheme.

I knew it had to be someone who came to my house regularly. Otherwise, there's no way they could enter my room without leaving with a few cuts from my dog. She's barks when someone enters the house. She gets down right mean when someone enters my room.

I had nothing to go on. I started getting scared that I had some sort of creepy stalker. And this creepy stalker has a name, but I will withhold that information. I really did not want to have to put up with this, especially since I'm leaving soon.

About five days later, my brother, Jamin texted me. He asked if I had received my payment. Then it all came together. About three weeks earlier I had tended Jamin's kids and in return he was going to get me Funyuns and chocolate. I told him to not worry about it. In fact, I had completely forgotten about the whole thing until he asked me about it.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I couldn't believe. All this time I was freaking out because I thought I had a creepy stalker that would warm up to my dog every time he came by. But in reality, it was my brother, simply delivering my payment. It was a huge relief. And really, looking back on it, it was quite funny.

Didn't See That Coming

Warning: May be spoiler if you have not yet read Falbehaven:Secret of the Dragon Sanctuary.

I stayed up until 2:30 this morning and finished the fourth book of Fablehaven: Secret of the Dragon Sanctuary. And all I have to say is...

WHAT THE HECK?!?!?!

That was the most sneaky, mean thing for him to do. I mean, seriously!!! It was an awesome book, but I'm mad now. Poor Kendra already had a hard time trusting people, and then her best friend turned out to be her enemy! And not just any enemy! He was the dang demon prince!!!

And what about Warren? I mean, hasn't the poor guy had enough. He was stuck a mute albino for a long time. When he was finally cured, I though he was pretty awesome. Then he has to get gored by a "magical flying stag with fangs." Then he breaks two bones in his arm. This guy is having it rough. And to top it all off, now he's stuck in some extra dimensional room with no way out!! Come on! I liked him.

That is so not fair! And now I have to wait until book five comes out. Great.

I did have to laugh though. The conversation my mother and I had this morning consisted of:
"I finished the book last night."
"Weren't you just so--"
"Yeah! What the heck!"
"I know, huh?"
"And Gavin! That was stupid!"
"I know! That made so me mad!"
"Me too!"
"And Kendra's parents."
"Yeah!"
"Who would do that?"
"Jerks! And poor Warren!"
"And Dougan!"
"Yeah! I thought it was a trick."
"Me too! And then I found out."
"When the Giant said the Dragon, I thought he was mistaken."
"I didn't get it until Gavin threatened her."
"Wasn't that so sad?"
"Yeah."
"And Raxtus!"
"Yeah!"
"He was cool!"

Those aren't the exact words, but the conversation went something like that. We were both fired up about it. The Fablehaven series really is good though. I highly recommend those books.

Two Weeks

Remember that blog when I said I have two months left? Well, I'm down to two weeks. Two weeks and I'm out of this little town and into a big school that's probably way out of my league. Why in the world did I choose to go there? And why in the world did I choose to go now?

My mom decided that I can't leave. Not now. Not in winter. I have to stay here. My parents will be empty nesters after I leave. They don't want me to go. As much as they try to hide how much of an effect it will have on them, I can see that this will be hard for them.

My aunt asked my mom what would happen to my dog after I left. (I think she's scared that my mother will kill her like she's always been threatening to do). My poor dog. She freaks out if I'm gone for a few days. I think she's going to go into depression after I leave.

My room is almost cleaned. I've been organizing and throwing things out, getting ready. It's weird. My mom won't let me pack anything into boxes yet. She wants to leave my room the way it is for now. Which is fine by me. It will be nice to come home to something so familiar next summer. But eventually all my stuff will be out of there and my mom will use it as her sewing/quilting room. It's the best room in the house for that; it gets the most sunlight and is good sized.

I cut four of my fingers at Patio last night. One of them was cut three times. I went through four band aids just at work. It wouldn't stop bleeding. It still hurts.

My hands smell really good. They were dry while I was working at the pool this morning so I stole some of Sagan's lotion from her box. Sugar and Spice. Smells really good.

I'll miss the pool, and Patio. Good places to work. Make lots of good friends.

I just saw Talon ride by on his motorcylce, so I had to make a comment on it. :)

My dad's rabbit had more bunnies. Now he has... seventeen(?) total, I think. Our cats are still scared of rabbits even though Sammy died. She was such a cool rabbit.

Prissy is gone. One of our cats. The one named after a Gone With The Wind character. We don't know how she died. No blood, no infection, nothing. It was weird.

All of this I'm going to leave behind. Go where I don't know anyone or any place. Leave all of my friends. Wow. I feel old.

An hour and a half on a bus and I can't sleep. Why? I'm so tired...

Random Quotes

Band is one of the best places to get random quotes. Sadly, I didn't write down any that Mr. Bake said. His were hilarious. But here are a few from David and Jo.

"We're playing this with the eighth-graders? *Groan* I like this song."
-Jo

"How do we play fat?"
-David

"Clothespins don't last forever."
-David

I'm going to miss that class...

Just a Memory

Sick. I have a headache that has not gone away since Sunday. That's.... four.... five days with a headache? Can't breathe. Burning throat and chest. Always, always tired. So tired.....

I've mostly slept. And I don't like it. As tired as I am, I hate sleeping that much. I've tried doing homework, but I can't focus on it long enough to really get anywhere on it. I've worked a lot on my book. My book. I'm writing a book. Did you know? Even if no one else will ever like it, I've enjoyed writing it.

With my time I've also discovered how to get back to our old Language Arts blog page. I loved that. I reread a lot of the old posts. They were actually really cool. I'd forgotten a lot about that. The way we interacted with each other. How we would share our emotions and thoughts, sometimes outright, sometimes cloaked. And it was just our class.

And it was different. If we were still doing it, I would have so much to write about; so many things to share. Things that I can't put on here. I don't know why. It was just different. Just a memory. A memory to fall back on.

Sometimes you forget. Forget how connected you were. Forget just how many people are really there for you when you feel alone. Forget that even though you try to hide it, your friends know what's going on and want to help you. Forget how you helped someone without knowing how much it meant to them. Forget that your friends need you just as much as you need them. Sometimes you forget how much people care. But when you look back on a memory, and it becomes so vivid that you know the exact emotions and thoughts you had at that time, you remember. Just because things change doesn't mean you have to forget. Because even when things change, some things linger. Special things. Things no one can ever take away from you. Just a memory.

From a fever to a cold in two days. Ugh.

Are You Kidding Me?!

WHAT?!?!
He didn't!!
You've got to be kidding me!!!!
HE DID!!!
What is he doing?!?!
Gah!!!

I can't not believe he did that!! I am a really big fan of 24. In one of the earlier seasons Tony Almeida, one of the coolest guys on the show though not the main character, died. But he really didn't. He returned this season, only instead of working with the government (he use to work at CTU) he was fighting against it. That was kind of a shock. But then we found out that he was just undercover. He was doing a covert operation that the government didn't know about. That made sense. Jack Bauer ( the main guy) help him out once he discovered this.

They made an awesome team. They accomplished a lot. It was up to Tony to take out Starkwood because he was the only one that could get inside. After he had destroyed the bio weapons, he was taken into custody (he had done some pretty bad stuff before he found Bill Buchanan and Cleo O'Brian and started doing covert).

One of the bad guys got away with a canister of the bio weapon. Agent Larry Moss from FBI and Tony followed him. They got in a gun fight and Larry was hit multiple times, though it didn't quite kill him. Tony leaned over him to help. The bad guy was coming up behind Tony and Larry tried to warn him. Tony merely turned to the guy and held up his hand. The guy lowered his weapon and just watched Tony.

By this point I was wondering what was going on. I thought that maybe Tony could get this guy to hand over the canister and not fight against the government (highly unlikely in this series, though I've learned to expect the unexpected). Then suddenly, Tony killed Agent Moss!!! Now that really was unexpected. Tony is one of the coolest guys I know on this show, and it turns out he really is a bad guy now. He was working with the guy that swipe the canister. What the heck?!?!

This is one of those shows that that keeps you on the edge of your seat, shorts out your brain, and twists your emotions. It's insane!! And I love it! But I'm so mad about Tony!! And Jack is going to be really mad at Tony, too. Oh boy, that's going to be one heck of a fight.....

Random Trains of Thought

Click-click
My mother clicking a pen while doing taxes with my dad.

Tick-tick. Tick-tick
The clock telling me it's time to go to bed.

Hmm-mm
The fridge buzzing out a night lullaby.

Hff-fff
The heater in the bathroom letting out a breath of warmth.

The glow of the computer screen lights the room. My dog's weight presses against my leg, her deep breathing signaling that she's asleep. My mother is now sleeping on the couch, curled up in a green tractor blanket. My father is on the computer, probably playing spider solitaire, free cell, or looking up news articles. I am on his laptop.

News articles....
Uh-oh. I need to get those done for my Government class. Thanks for reminding me, Davio.

Davio....
He got the nickname from a play. Eight-grade. That was a good year. Sort of. Bad spots freshman year, especially the end. Sophomore year sucked. It was hard and awkward. Junior year.... Senior year.... I miss Beau. I'm the only one left. And almost not.

Almost not....
I've signed a contract to live at the Colony in Provo. I can move in June 15. Two months and two days.

Two days....
I'll be performing my dramatic monologue in two days. Performing. Quite honestly, I'm not sure why I did drama this year. Yeah, I like acting, but it's not my great love. I don't live, breathe, dream, or worship drama like others. I don't know why I did it. It's not the same this year. Part of me wishes I hadn't done it. But state is this weekend and after that I'll be done. For good.

For Good....
"I've heard it said
that people come into our lives for a reason
bringing something we must learn
And we are led to those who help us most to grow
if we let them, and we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
but I know I'm who I am today because I knew you

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But, because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
~For Good lyrics from Wicked~

Thoughts

One month.
I have not posted for one month.
One month.
Things have changed dramatically in one month.

Two months.
I've changed the person I am in two months.
Two months.
I'll be leaving in two months.

This is so weird. Four months ago I was looking back at how I use to be and realizing how much I've changed. Now I'm looking back to for months ago and see that I've changed from even then. I don't know if I have changed the way I act, or if anyone else has noticed. Mostly, the change has been in my thinking; realizing things, analyzing things, seeing things from a different point of view. It's all about point of view. "The worm would rather dig in the dirt than go fishing." I heard that off one of my dad's motivational tapes. The thing is, it's true. Point of view can change everything.

So much is happening. Decisions that impact everything. Those "there's no going back" things. Sure you can go back, but it will never be how you left it. A sort of bitter-sweet parting. Friends parting ways. Making new friends. Seeing some friends rise to great heights while other friends crumble to destruction; and there's nothing you can do but watch because you've already passed out of their lives.

Slowly departing. I've already started to fall out of the loop. There's not many of my friends that I talk to anymore. I don't really keep in touch. I haven't written or read any blogs in a month. I've been mostly focused on college. I'm going to BYU. Going from this tiny town to big Provo. I already know I'll get lost a lot. That's inevitable.

I've lived here my entire life. I'll miss a lot of things about this place.
White roses beneath my window.
The Blue Mountain out the front window.
Playing in mud holes.
Playing Pirates and having our treasure map eaten by termites.
Playing Cops and Robbers on our bikes.
The Swimming Pool (swimming and working).
The Patio.
The everyone-knows-everyone feel.
Summer days going to Recapture and eating ice cream.
Playing and working in the garden.
Sleeping out on the trampoline.
Star gazing with my mother.
Rappelling and hanging out with my brothers.
Building things with my dad.
My friends.

That's just a part of what I'll miss about this place. This is already a pretty long blog. Mostly ramblings and random things. What I'll probably miss the most is that feeling of being connected; like I belong. I know I'll eventually belong at BYU, hopefully, but it won't be the same. When our AP Lang. Arts class had that little blogging system as an assignment, or in the college Creative Writing class when we would submit our papers online and the whole class would read them; that's the kind of connection I mean. Maybe it's getting feedback on things. Maybe it's sharing things with those I trust. I don't know, but I'll miss it.

What Do You Do?

What do you do when someone you care about is hurt?
What do you do when someone you care about is the one who hurt them?

What do you do when you're caught in the middle?
What do you do when it's between good and good?

What do you do when the most horrible thing to do is leave?
What do you do when leaving is the only answer?

What do you do when you're terrified of what lies ahead?
What do you do when you're running to meet it head on?

What do you do when people turn to you for help?
What do you do when you don't have the answers?

What do you do when absolutely nothing makes sense?
What do you do when when you're unexplainably happy anyway?

Bless You?

An interesting question was raised at drill team this morning. Heather was coughing really bad as we stood in our beginning formation, our backs to Jeanna (our coach). When Heather finished coughing Jeanna said, "Bless you." Our heads were down waiting for the music to start, but Heather looked over at me and asked, "Am I suppose to say thank you?" I shrugged my shoulders and the music started.

When the dance was over, Heather asked me if I say "Bless You" when somebody coughs. I never had and neither had any of the other girls. Heather said her mom would just say, "Stop coughing." You say "Bless You" when somebody sneezes and "Excuse You" if somebody burps, but what do you say when someone is coughing?

It Sticks With You

Be careful what you watch, read, participate in, or observe. It will stick with you. Even if you don't ever consciously think about it, it will be stored in your subconscious, no matter from how far back.

Today in math class we were given time to just work on our assignments and study for an upcoming test. Of course, while we were doing our assignments, we were talking. I sit next to Loni (Alana), so we were just going at it. But we were still working on our assignments.

I came to a problem that I had forgotten how to do. Luckily, I take notes of how to do problems so I can just refer back to it when things like that happen. I was sort of narrating to Loni about this as I reached for my note book. I ended up saying, "I'll just pull out my handy-dandy notebook!"

We both paused for a moment. I turned to Loni and said it was familiar and asked her where that came from. She couldn't think of it either, but she recognized it as well. We sat there for about ten minutes trying to think of where in the world that had come from. Finally, I got it.

I slowly turned to Loni, my hand covering my face from the rest of the class, and whispered, "Is that from Blues Clues?" We sat frozen as we realized that that's exactly where it had come from. "It is!" She replied, and we both busted up laughing. How in the world had we gotten that? We couldn't stop laughing for the rest of the class.

I made two points to Loni after we had discovered where that random quote had come from. 1. It was really pathetic that I had quoted Blues Clues. 2. It was even more pathetic that we both knew what it was from.

One thing that makes this even better was that I was relating this story to David, before I could tell him where the quote had come from, he asked, "But isn't that from Blues Clues?"

I had some really good laughs today. But I also realized that, even if you can't remember the source, and whether it's good or bad, things will stick with you.

When it's good to be an Outcast

We were in the foyer. He was sitting on the large carpeted steps along with the other three girls. I was standing near him. I felt just a little awkward. We were from two different towns and this was his group of friends. I only knew him and one the the girls. I felt like an intruder to the others.
The bell rang, letting school out and the halls began to fill with students. I didn't notice he was looking at me as I watched people join up with friends, my mind wandering.
Suddenly I realized that he had dropped conversation and was focused on me. I turned my attention to him. Curiosity played across his face.
"You can sit down, ya know." He indicated the seat next to him. Nice. I looked at the spot, but made no move to sit down. His expression changed slightly.
"Or are you hinting that you want to leave?"
He's good.
"No. I just need to talk to one of my friends. I'll be back."
"Ok," he seemed hesitant as I walked away. I felt reluctant to leave him, but I was already out of his sight.

I didn't find her. She had already left the school. So I returned to the foyer, knowing he would still be there. I walked through the doors and stopped short. He was still there, but the others from his school had joined him. He was surrounded by about fifteen people I didn't know. I was a stranger here.
As much as I was drawn to him, I couldn't bring myself to walk among them. I felt my expression twist into unwilling surrender. My feet started moving as I slowly backed away. But he had already seen me. His eyes caught mine. Blue on blue. His expression was inquisitive, confused.
I stopped again, hesitating. His eyes were pleading. I forced myself forward, moving even slower than before. He watched me curiously for a moment, then he stood and closed the distance between us.
"What was that about?" He stood close to me. I peered around him at the people he had been sitting with.
"I feel like an outcast," I admitted, looking up at him. He looked over his shoulder at his friends, and thought for a moment.
"Let's go." He looked back down at me as he walked the way I had come. I glanced at his friends one more time, then turned and followed him.

Dreams and Thinking

I have just returned from a very long trip. Too long. It was only to Salt Lake, but that was too far this time. We traveled with two babies in the back seat. We sat through an extremely long police academy graduation, then came home. Too much sitting. Not enough sleep. Though I am glad I went.

I mostly listened to my ipod and tried to sleep, though I couldn't quite get to that point. I became just unconscious enough to dream while still being aware of what was going on around me. Dream and think. The dreams I could have done without. The last dream I had before this trip, I was held up in an abandoned house with Beau and Chris. It was us against... I don't know who it was. We were rebelling against someone and they sent their men out to "take care of us." So it was just the three of us with our guns and an advantage of higher ground. I would rather have that as my most recent dream than the dreams I had on this trip.

In thinking, it was mostly about my book. Trying to work out some of the minor details. How exactly do I make some of the characters die? Do I want to add this character or not? Will this character become a serious danger before her betrayal? Does she get some final words with her brother before he dies, or is it just over? Little things like that. I thought about some other things, too. But I tried to stay focused on my book.

Now I'm home, dead tired, about to go to bed. But now I've started thinking about my own character. Trying to figure out some of the minor details. I've started to notice a pattern in my life. An interesting pattern. And I kind of wonder how it developed. I know it's mostly me, but parts of it aren't, and that's what makes it so intriguing. I'm just a character out of a book. And I'm the one writing it.

Friends for Life

Eight months ago he left. Six months he went even further away. And I've missed him more than anything. I get to talk to him a little bit once a week. But it's not the same. We were so close. I wasn't just a tag-a-long to him; I was his friend. We were really good friends. He'd always help me out when I needed it. And he'd always turn to me when he needed someone to talk to. He'd ask my opinions, and he honestly valued them. If I disapproved of anything, he'd take it into account. He'd let me wallow in self-pity, then help me solve my problems. He understood so much of what others didn't.

We sang duets a lot. We never really performed, it was just for fun. (Except one time Mrs. J had us sing a duet for her choir class). We'd sing when we were home alone and bored, or doing chores, or we'd karaoke. Our voices sounded so cool together. I loved the contrast of high and low. Sometimes I would play the piano, like Phantom of the Opera or Lord of the Rings. And we'd sing. That was a blast. He had such a good Phantom voice.

He'd always encourage me in anything I did. And he'd be excited for me when I was excited. His senior year, I went to every single one of his football games, home and away. He loved that. I was always waiting for him outside the locker room. He'd give me a hug and we'd instantly start talking about the game.

Of course, we fought a lot, too. But that only made it better. After we'd have our differences, we'd be even better friends. He liked having me around. He told me once when we were younger that if I ever got kidnapped, he'd risk his life to save me, then beat the heck out of the people who took me. The thing is, he was serious. And he really has saved my life many times. I've actually lost count. It's a wonder I haven't somehow died in the eight months that he's been gone. He truly did care about me, and our friends could see that.

Now Beau's in Mexico. And man do I miss him! I miss all my brothers. They're all gone and now I'm home alone. That's part of life. It sad part, but a part. I'm excited that he is in Mexico at the same time, though. He's having a blast down there. And actually, not his companion, but one of the missionaries he lives with wrote me a letter. And I'm writing him back :) That made Beau happy. I guess he doesn't really have anyone to write to.

But this is my blog for Beau. Even though he'll probably never read it, and if he does it won't be for another year and a half. Here's to all my great brothers! Love you guys!!

Controlling the Weather

Yesterday throughout the day I came up with three ideas to blog about. But by the time work got over, I had forgotten all of them. So now I'm merely going to ramble. Again.

The snow we got to day was quite unexpected. And even after it did start snowing, I didn't think it would snow this much. We were in the church building when we saw it. So I decided, since we had somewhat warm weather for a while and now it was cold again, we would have a second Christmas. I shared this idea with my friends and we voted on it. It was unanimous. In twelve days, it's Christmas again. 'Tis the season. :)

The strange thing is, I'm not upset about the snow even though I was excited that it was starting to get warm. It's just one of those things. You can't change it. Complaining won't do anything but make it more miserable. As JRR Tolkien stated in Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, "It is not our part to master all the tides of the world... What weather they shall have is not ours to rule."

It is foolish to think that we can control the weather. Just as it is foolish to think that we can control the past. Once it's happened, we can't change it. We can only move on. Elder Neal A. Maxwell pointed out that we must move forward with hope, "not looking back, and refusing to let yesterday hold tomorrow hostage."

Some things we can change. Some we cannot. Instead of being so frustrated with the things we can't change, like the weather and the past, we need to focus on the things we can change, like our future and ourselves if needs be. And not just focus on it, but also act on it. Looking and focusing on a jigsaw puzzle doesn't get it finished; you have to put the pieces into place once you've found them.

That was a little more spiritual than I was planning on getting, but it gave me something to talk about. And don't mind the snow too much. After all, it's bringing us a second Christmas. :)

Blonde Moment

I have so many of these that happen to me on a daily basis. But today one occurred that I think is blog worthy. It happened during band. I play the alto sax, and on occasion I'll just put my hand down the bell of the instrument. Today, I was sidetrack as I was doing this and I went to far. Now, don't ask me how it happened. It was one of those things that only I could pull off. Anyway, I got my hand stuck. I really truly could not get my hand out of my saxophone.

It actually kind of hurt. Ryan--French Horn player-- didn't even try to help me. He just laughed! Well, my hand wasn't coming out, so finally I put my sax on the floor, put my foot on the sax and jerked my hand out. It was kind of ridiculous really. And now I have a bruise on my knuckle. Jolene and David--Sax players-- laughed really hard too. Then they tried to reenact it. But, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get their hands stuck. It's just me. Something only I can pull off. Yeah, total blonde.

Wish I Could Say Something Profound

Senior year. Why is this called the best year of your high school career? I don't get it. Everything ends. Tennis ends. Cross Country ends. Drama. Band. Dancing. Even some or the best friendships end. I guess people love their senior year so much because it means they can finally get out, leave Blanding and forget everything that made them unhappy here.

I just got back from State Drill; my last drill trip ever. And really, I should be in bed, since it's past four o' clock in the morning. Drill. Just one more ended thing.

We received roses from our coaches when we got to our hotel rooms. One of the girls in my room stuck the roses in the fridge overnight. Normally, this would preserve the flowers. But, when we took them out and they thawed, it killed them. Ironic really. In the process of trying to make something last longer, we drastically shortened it, bringing it's end.

There are five completely different songs running through my mind right now. Yet all of them seem to reflect my mood. Am I happy? Sad? I don't know. By this time of night (or rather morning) I'm merely contemplative. Which can sometimes be a bad thing. I oftentimes go too deep in my thinking and it can have negative effects.

Trying to understand things can be rather frustrating. Unlike in schoolwork, life has no set answers. When you don't know the answer, how can you possibly try to understand it? Even if you have found an answer, that doesn't ensure understanding.

Our theme for State Drill this year was centered around Kung Fu Panda. On that trip was the first time I watched it. The crazy old turtle (my favorite character) said something that stuck in my mind. "You have to let go of the illusion of control... You can plant a peach seed. But whether you want it to be an apple tree or a pear tree, it's going to grow up to be a peach tree." That wasn't the exact quote, but it was something like that.

Now I wish I had something profound to say to sum all this up. That would be cool. But I don't. Simply that you cannot understand or control everything, and many good things must end. It sucks, and I still have a hard time dealing with that, but it's true. Things happen. You have to let go of the illusion of control...

Bashed Face

I wrote this back in November when it occurred. Just thought I would post it now.

“Ok. Let’s run through it one more time, then I have to go,” Jeanna, our dance advisor, called out.

We all rose to our feet and got in our beginning formation for our kick routine, the one we would be performing at the Semi-Finals for football on Saturday. The music started and I tightened every muscle in my body, focusing mostly on my core. We started doing our kicks. My legs were sore when I kicked that high, higher than my head, but it wasn’t unbearable. We were all trying our hardest to be sharp and smile. Smiling wasn’t that difficult. When you love what you’re doing it doesn’t take much concentration to smile.

We neared the end of our dance and got into “the worm” position. Alisha was going to start it, Robin was right in front of me with her feet on my shoulder blades, my feet were on Heather’s shoulder blades, and Jeannie would finish the ripple. The counts came and we rippled. My upper half came up as Robin’s was going down, though her feet were still up. I started to go down when I realized Robin’s feet weren’t on me anymore. Within a split second, I heard a sickening thud and a sharp pain cracked up through my nose as I felt Robin’s feet hit the back of my head and my face hit the gym floor. The dance was almost over, only one more eight-count, so I finished it.

But as I hit my ending pose, traitor tears raced down my cheeks and my head was pounding. I then noticed my upper lip throbbing, too. Jeanna was staring at me in concern.

“Are you ok?” She asked, “What happened?”

I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t talk. The pain surged through me as I fought to hold back the already obvious tears. I finally explained to her what happened as I raised my hand to cover my nose, as though to protect it. It was already swelling. I felt something wet trickle into my hands and I pulled them away to look. Blood. I knew it wasn’t from my nose. My nose never bleeds. It was from my lip. It had split open and the blood was coming fast. With no need to verbally excuse myself, I stood up and ran to the bathroom.

I grabbed a tissue and held it there to stop the bleeding. When it finally stopped, I took a deep breath before looking in the mirror. Ugh. It was bad. My nose was swelling, shadowed from starting to bruise, and my lip was swollen with a huge split in it. Even with my high tolerance for pain, I cried.

I went and got it x-rayed. Not broken. Good. But it didn’t stop it from hurting. It was then I had to make one of the hardest choices. I couldn’t dance with my nose like this. I knew that. I felt it. There was no possible way without feeling like it was being smacked into the floor a hundred times over. And so, I gave it up: my once in a lifetime chance to go to All-State Dance. Yeah. I feel horrible I didn’t get to go, but I don’t regret my decision. My face is still throbbing. Oh well, it’s not everyday you get your face smashed into the floor. I’ll admit, it’s one thing I haven’t done yet, and now I get to say I have.

I looked horrible for several days. The split in my lip was really deep and didn't heal for about two weeks. The bruising on my nose spread to under my eyes. I looked really ridiculous.

Annie Oakley

One of my mother's nicknames for me-when guns are in mind-is Annie Oakley. Today my parents and I were talking about one of the incidences (I think the very first one) that earned me that nickname. I would just like to share that with you.

Growing up we always had chickens. They were usually plain white, though the roosters were often different colors. They would always wander about the yard eating worms, fallen apples, and whatever else they could find.

One day my oldest brother, Jamin, and I were standing out on the back deck watching the chickens. I couldn't have been any older than 8 years old (though I was probably 6 or 7). Jamin was probably about 16 or 17. Then he got this bright idea. He went inside where my mom was fixing lunch. He asked her if he could see if I could shoot one of the chickens. She thought he meant with a BB gun, and plus I had never really shot before and never at a moving target, so she had no problem with it.

So Jamin brought out his gun. Only it wasn't his BB gun... it was his .22. He handed the me the gun, which was almost as big as I was. He pointed to one of the chickens and said, "Hey, Jess. Shoot that chicken. That one."
"Ok."

I pulled the gun up over the rail and placed the butt of the gun on my shoulder. Jamin stood beside me with a look of curiosity and humor on his face. I aimed at the chicken, bobbing it's head as it walked, and squeezed the trigger...

Jamin's expression quickly changed to shock and disbelief. I had nailed the chicken right in the head and killed it. With the gun still positioned in my arms, I looked up at him.

"She killed it! Oh my heck! I can't believe she killed it!"
My mom walked out onto the deck in answer to Jamin's shouting. "Oh, she didn't kill it," she calmly replied. Then she looked off the deck and saw the dead chicken.

They buried the chicken to "hide the evidence." But it was in vain. When my dad got home, I was so please with myself, that I ran up and told him that I had shot and killed a chicken. The only thing that he was really upset about was that, with a clean headshot, they had buried it, so now we couldn't eat it.

We all find the memory quite funny now. Though, since then, no one has ever told me to shoot anything unless they were completely serious.

Drill Competition

So we had drill competition this last weekend and it went pretty good. We didn't place, but we performed really well. There's definitely room for improvement, but I think our chances might be pretty good this year. There's just one problem.....

Some time during the competition, I really don't know when, I hurt my middle finger on my left hand. It has a funny bump on the side, it's swollen, and this morning it started turning blue. I don't know if it's jammed or broken. And really, I don't know if I want to know. (My mother's famous words that we don't let her live down: "If you can move it, it's not broken." That's a story in itself.) I'm not going to get it x-rayed. Bleh. I'm sick of that and it costs too much. So I'm just dealing with it. The funny thing is, when we do our military dance we have to have our wrists at 90 degree angles with flat hands. Usually, that's not a problem. Now, my finger won't go straight so my hand curls in a funny claw-like way. It actually looks really hilarious when we do the dance, and I feel so stupid. :)

Yesterday I almost couldn't get my ring off my finger. Really, it took me about 15 minutes sitting in church to get it off (my mom and I were switching rings again during sacrament meeting). So we decided I probably shouldn't put it back on that finger.

Silly fingers. They always get the worst of it. :)