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. :)