Love's Possibilities and the Possibility of Love

I've been kind of down on love lately and I think it's because people (including me) do a lot of dumb things when they are in love.  We become new people and we do or say things that we would never when we are a single, normal, unit.  Over the past 7 months there have probably been three to four dozen things I wish I could take back.  In fact, there are probably three dozen things per month I wish I could take back!

But, I can't.  And that is the weird, twisted magic of love.  When I look back, I have no idea how I got here but I know I want to get as far away from here as possible.  Never to fall in love again, because I rather like having my mind where it is sound and my emotions where I can control them.  The funny thing is, love is so fun in the beginning.  It's new, it's fresh, it's full of possibilities.  Then somewhere along the way you get to point B, you have no idea how you got there, and you don't have any solution as how to get out.

Then love is not fun.  Love is work.  And for that unknown amount of time, love is hard work.  Who would have ever thought in a million years that love is work?!  I mean, come on!  Love should be natural, fancy-free, right?  No.  Not at all.  Because somewhere along the way, no matter what kind of love you have, if you want to keep it, you have to fight for it and work hard at it.  [And, if the other party in this love tango does not want to work hard at it anymore, enter dumb comments and doing dumb things...]

And so I'm stuck at point B, have no idea what or how to get to point C, and I'm seriously questioning, if at all, where it all ends?  I'm no expert on love, sometimes I wish I was, but then my love life would be completely artificial.  If there's one thing I love about love, it's not knowing, the spontaneity and the random interactions and connections couples make.  The path from there can go anywhere, and that is exciting.

Love is a mystery; in its unpredictable nature, all we can do is fall and hold on for dear life.

The Things That Heal Us

Life is a crazy ride. Sometimes I wish this ride would end peacefully in my sleep tomorrow night. I say tomorrow, cuz there is still so much I want to do today (so, I'm grateful for all the "today's" I still get.) From my first heart aches to my present heart ache, I always thought it would get easier. I've been through this routine a few times, but I guess not enough to be expert on the quick recovery. I've learned, however, that there are a few things that heal:

1) Ben Folds...don't ask me why, but Ben Folds rocks my heart-broken-world! He just makes me feel better.

2) Christmas commercials...but not the peanut M&M one; that one is just weird. I'm talking about the Halmark and Sarah Lee commercials.

3) Strangely enough, Meth commercials...because at least I'm doing something right, I'm not screwing up my life with substance abuse.

4) Running...I live to run, I run to live. Sometimes I feel like running is the only thing I can do right.

5) Looking up lyrics from my favorite songs on the internet...and speaking of the internet, I've had some of my greatest times on YOUTUBE and quoting lines with friends and sisters.

6) Family...if it weren't for my parents, my siblings, my brother-in-law, and roommates, I'd be a train wreck waiting to happen right now.

7) Humor...I wrote a 15-page paper my sophomore year about how humor makes everyone feel better from those with mild depression to those with cancer. Humor heals (I've got the references from research studies done to support this.)

7b) Jim Carrey...Hilarious.

8) Not eating...and eating. Let me explain. My appetite has literally flown out the window. It's incognito. So, when I do eat, the food is damn good. Because I already don't feel hungry, whatever I do put in my mouth has to taste really good for me to be able to keep eating.

9) Writing...an infamous writer once said that in order to define yourself, search your soul and write, write, and write until you find yourself over and over again.

One day at a time, Maxi. One day at a time.

Untitiled

Isn't it funny how some things turn out? You think you are going down one path, you tell God, "Hey there, I got this one figured out. These are my plans. Thanks for being here for me, but I think I got this one." And you smile as you close your prayer to Heavenly Father, but he's smiling too, and for some of us he might crack a giggle or break into a full out laugh. I bet He's got one hell of a contagious laugh.

We don't know what we're doing, we just sometimes do things because it feels right. I never expected things to end up this way, but they did. I wished they would have panned out a little more different, but I can't blame anyone but myself for getting into this situation.

So, I'm staying out here in Idaho Falls because it feels right. Really, for no other reason than it feels right right now. And honestly, how many people can say they got rehired because the company was desperate?! That's a sign, right? But seriously, how many graduates can say they have a sweet job the day after graduation?

Life will be different from here on out. I will be a different person (hopefully better, and growing) because of the next year's experiences. My plans? Well, since I'm pretty sure my previous plans were the ones that were able to make Heavenly Father laugh, I've decided to be an instrument in God's hands. Not quite sure how to do that, but I'll just start out by working hard and trying every day to live the Golden Rule. I'll try to be a little better this year than I was last. I'm ready to let go of that big circle thing on the boat that is used to turn the boat, and let Him steer me.

This Time I'll Take it Slow

I have been in every mind set, in every mood, and around every corner in my mind over the past three months. It's funny how changes in life can cause so much stress and anxiety. I'm already a liability waiting to happen, all I need is one more change to push me over the edge! I've decided to revisit some of the advice I've received and learned the most from.

1) Life is a marathon, not a 200 yard dash. My Dad gave me this advice, and I have to remind myself nearly everyday that I don't have to do it all today. I don't have to solve every problem, fix every broken thing, or figure out all life's secrets. I have a long time to do everything, and I need to learn patience. God knows, I need to learn patience.

2) What are we here for if it is not to make life easier on each other? Sister Hinckley wrote this in a letter or a book and I think it is marvelous. We all to often, and me especially, get caught up in thinking "me, me, ME!" and instead we should be looking for the things we could be doing for others. Really, when we all get together and put all our problems on the table, we all take a good look around, and end up taking our problems right back. We can handle what we're going through, we wouldn't trade problems with anyone else, but we can help those others.

3) Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out. Robert Collier, a sweet-ace runner, said this. It works for long-distance runners, but it also works with everything in life. If you want to succeed in anything, you work at it day in and day out. You don't take a day off (well, outside of running!) you work hard and don't lose sight of the prize.

4) If I were two-faced, would I really be wearing this one? Oh, Abraham Lincoln! We all need to have good senses of humor and be able to laugh at ourselves! Enough said....well, and he said these great lines as well:
- I will prepare, and someday my chance will come. (SO GOOD!)
- Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt. (So true, I need to work on this one. I've said quite a few dumb things before thinking...)
- Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. (Again, so true.)

5) Have you decided what you're going to do when you graduate yet? How are your toe nails? My mom wrote this all in one text message! This was during a time when I had no idea what I was going to do when I graduated (ahem, last week!) But, I literally smiled and laughed to myself because here I was, making the biggest decision of my short adult life (so far) and my mom just put things in perspective. Sometimes with big decisions we feel like we're going to lose something, or this is it, this is the end. That's not the case. No matter what we decide in life, the world still turns. We still need to eat breakfast the next morning, the trash needs to be taken out, we need to see the foot doctor about a bruised toe nail that might fall off from too much running.

With huge, life-changing decisions, we need to remember that our world won't come to an end when we make a choice. We (meaning I) just need to commit to the decision, don't look back, and buckle my seat belt for the ride! That new path ahead of me, the one that, if nothing else, will yield to heaps of life experiences. And that, that will make all the difference! (Robert Frost)

Fashion magazines really promote hot and modern trends?

I have found that the fashion industry is very interesting. I'm not sure what is fashionable and what is disgusting because some of the outfits on the runway today look like what a third-grade girl would throw on for school. There are tons of patterns, clashing colors, and belts with everything. So, when I wear tennis shoes (my cute hot pink Nike Cortez) with a cute white skirt and a fun top, I don't see how that is stepping outside of the box (me, hinting to a few sisters who question my style!) These days, you could walk into a local D.I or Goodwill and pick up practically any four or five articles of clothing and pull them off as fashionable. It really feels like the uglier the clothes, the more hip and trendy. Go ahead and find a floral blouse with black-leafed accents, a cat-embroidered vest (maybe with touches of actual fur on it), a neon yellow, black, orange, and red plaid skirt (tweed, of course), and top it off with a pair of adorable navy kitten heels or black pumps. The rules of fashion are....well, I'm not sure there are any rules. Just go with what your style is, and if that cat-embroidered vest happens to have a "Chanel" logo, than it's definitely fashionable. And as long as the knee high boots with crocodile print and the bells on the back strap are Prada, they are hot. No other questions asked.

Economy 101

I don't really get how the world works. It's a wonder to me that people eat every day let alone sleep at night with this flailing economy. I always figured it was like calories and losing weight; calories in and calories out, that's how you solved that problem. Well, in the economy it's like losing debt; money in and money out. I suppose some day we won't really use the monetary system anymore and we'll all go back to trading and bartering. What my neighbor can offer me compared what I can offer my neighbor. If I were teaching Economy 101, I would tell students to just ban money today. Quit going to the banks. Invest any money you have now into a nice home garden, maybe even save a couple hundred under your matress for emergencies. Just like in the 1930's. I would advise them to learn how to sew...then again knowing how to sew is one thing. Being able to afford the sewing machine, fabric, and other materials, is another thing and doesn't do much good if you don't have money to buy it....but oh yeah, I just advised all the students to have home gardens so they could trade peas and corn for fleece and thread. The only other thing I've heard that is sure to boost our economy, is BUY, BUY, BUY. In order to be a contributing American I've decided to BUY. It doesn't matter what, just BUY. So, I bought "Nacho Libre" for $4, Horkley's 44 oz. soda every Wednesday, I go golfing twice a week, I blew $11.50 at the dollar store, online shopping counts, right?, and every time a new candy bar comes out, I pick up a few to test them out. How do I afford all this mindless spending, you ask? Three words: Paid Plasma Donations. Donating plasma is like my cool, fulfilling, part-time job. It's cool because you get paid in cash every time you go.  It's fulfilling because apparently (and ask a doctor for more serious/accurate details) plasma saves lives...lots of lives. It's like a blood donation or an IV of liquids and protein. Basically my plasma money is my fun money. Donating plasma does more than save lives, it supports the economy. Here is a place where you go put in your 4-6 hours per week, walk out with $60-CASH- and because cash seems to burn holes in American's pockets, it is spent faster than an informercial can add, "But wait, call in the next 10 minutes and we'll throw in 3 free SHAM WOWS!!!" (ps I seriously need to start going to bed before 2 am, because the only thing that's stopping me from buying a SHAM WOW is my lack of credit card possession!)

Beginning Bowling (ESS 131)

Don't let the title fool you. This class is very hard for most all inexperienced bowlers. I don't know whether it was my approach practice without a ball, or the fact that the teacher gave me Men's size 10 bowling shoes (I guess he took one look at my feet and thought they were large enough to upgrade me to the Men's department) but I genuinely stink at bowling. Day 4, he finally let us use balls with our approach so the embarrassment of bowling "ghost style" was out of the way. However, the lingering evidence of a bad bowler hung in the air with gutter after gutter after 2-pins knocked down after gutter ball! (Mind you, these were all my shots. My team is actually decent!) So, the teacher has all these "practice drills" on the side that are meant to help people who can't bowl good (me). Example: stand against the wall and swing your bowling arm back and forth along the wall so you get used to the plane you are to swing on. I won't tell you how dorky this looks...or how dorky one feels! The best part of this class is that he'll have us all sit down here and there and proceed to give us tips and pointers on how to become better bowlers. Right behind the alley (which is in one of the school buildings) is the new, and still being improved, bookstore. For some reason, they like to hammer, saw, drill, and everything in between during that hour. I swear it's like a funny cartoon where important information is being relayed, but no one can hear because the semi-truck is passing by or the helicopter flies overhead! I was cracking up because here, this teacher who already has a soft voice, is talking away and all I can hear are the drills and hammering behind me. I see his lips moving, but I don't catch a single word (except I could read his lips say turkey, and the kid next to me had to explain.) I'm going to blame my sorry skills on the premise that I can't hear the advice on fundamentals. I guess he'll just have to keep sending me to the wall for a while!

Frugal Wars Part II

In my Money Management class we learn ways we can save money and spend money the smart ways. It surprises me that I was never really that frugal to begin with. For example, our teacher asked the class if there is such a thing as being too frugal. I thought perhaps, and maybe even that I had already reached that point; but, to my newfound knowledge, I am so far from being frugal that I hesitate to even classify myself as a tight-wad! She informed us that she knew a newly wed couple who received many nice gifts from family and friends at their wedding reception. They both had a year of school to finish, so they didn't want to spend the money on renting a Uhaul or truck, so they returned all the gifts and got money in return. When they got to Rexburg, they bought just what they thought they needed in appliances at Deseret Industries with the plan that when they moved, they would just give all they purchased back to Goodwill. Personally, at first I thought no big deal...until you actually go to a Goodwill. Why anyone would sell back their brand new 6-speed blender for a 1970's malt-maker (seriously just a stick that vibrates into a tin cup) is beyond my understanding. That's not even the best one. She also had some friend who her and her husband had some 6 or 7 odd number of children. To save on money, everytime one of the children had to use the bathroom, the dad handed them 4 squares of toilet paper and said, "Good luck!" My goodness! I just laughed really hard because I didn't know if the teacher was kidding or not. She just slowly gave a slight smile with a sigh and nodded her head with her eyes closed.

Car Noises

My boyfriend makes these incredibly real-sounding car noises with just his mouth. Whenever I try to imitate or replicate the noise, I sound more like a laser gun going off or a gust of wind blowing by rather than a car zooming around corners. I think he said one time that girls can't make car noises. It's a guy thing. I've recently realized, however, that girls (or at least I) CAN make some car noises! When I click my tounge, I ultimately sound like a car blinker. Think: in my car, turn on the blinker, and wait for light to change green.

To do: open your mouth the long way, as if you were grinning and click. Then, right after that, open your mouth as if you were saying, "YOUUUU!" and click. Repeat this several times to the rhythm of your car's blinker, and you will sound just like it!

The Love in Loving People

Last night there was an amazing lesson at institute (and my opinion may be considered bias because the teacher is my dad, but it was a really great lesson). There was one point in the discussion in which we talked about "lengthing your stride" and what that means. We came to an agreement that it basically means that you try a little harder, get out of your comfort zone, be a little better. I thought this was such a great concept! Just think, if every person tried to be a little better every day, or every week, month, or even just every year, think of the impact on the world!

That means your coworker, Bucky, starts wearing deodorant; you and your lunch partners buy an extra burger or taco off the dollar menu and give it to a homeless person on your way back to the office; Giselle, the town gossip queen, starts talking positively about people; we all start calling our parents weekly, just to say "hi" and see how they are doing; some of us who don't have our grandparents anymore adopt a grandparent who doesn't have a family.

The list of possibilities goes on and on. The point is, each one of us has little baby steps towards becoming the best we can be. If we all start figuring out what those steps are, and following through with the easy things, I honestly believe the world would be a much better place, people would be happier, healthier, and cleaner. (I mean, the world is already a pretty rad place, and life is pretty delicious; but, there's always room for improvement, right?!)

So, what I propose is that the three people who read my blog try to be a little better for the rest of this year, and they each tell three of their friends to find something they can be a little better at, and then those three people tell three more people....(I know this sounds a lot like "Pay It Forward", but it's not. It's about personal progress, which includes service, which I guess really is like that movie. Oh, well!)

I guess the real difference comes in strengthening relationships with each other. When we start caring about the people around us (and, yes, wearing deodorant shows you care), then we find joy in life and we obtain a hope that the world will continually become a better place. Because I think, in the end, it really is all about the people, not the things.

"There is no hope of joy except in human relations." -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

How to Drink Alone (an msn.com bit)

I fell upon this article written by Tom Chiarella from msn.com's website. He writes on how there is an art to drinking alone and procedes to list the advice. I don't know why I think this is so funny, but it strikes a chord with me. It's like when you see someone at a restaraunt or a movie by themselves and you feel bad; like you should get up and go sit next to him/her but you're not sure if that will embarrass them more, if they even want company, or what not. Maybe there are tips on "How to Eat Alone (at a nice, fancy sit-down restaurant)" or "How to Watch a Movie Alone (at a real theater)". Thanks MSN.com, for keeping it real...

• Don’t use it as a warm-up. It’s a prelude to nothing. Drinking alone must be an event unto itself. It’s never about getting sloppy, or lucky, or even happy. Beginning and end, make it a choice. A gift, not an escape. It’s about raising your awareness, not dulling it. Be neat, small of affect, businesslike.
• Start in the afternoon.
• 2:30 is universally a good time, since the bar will be empty, the bartender busy stocking the coolers, wiping down bottles.
• Forget bar chatter, since it’s about drifting, forgetting, passing time without noticing. Instead, quietly pay attention.
• Drink liquor — whiskey.
• Get a beer back, if you must. Gin is acceptable too, but don’t put anything sweet in it.
• Ignore the television.
• Listen a little. Enjoy the muffled aural measures of a bar waking up. Watch the door or the window instead. Draw connections to the world outside, even as it recedes slightly from perception. Notice the angles of light, the pulse of the traffic, even the evolution of customers who drift in as the day twists down to its nub.
• Read a paper, sure. A book is good too. Crack the spine and lay it flat on the bar. Read, don’t pretend to read.
• Don’t eat. Drinking alone is not about buffalo wings.
• Look up often.
• Jukeboxes are an acceptable diversion, though don’t ever select Cat Stevens when drinking alone.
• If a friend happens in, do not demur. Instead, take it as an irrefutable signal that the meditative event of drinking alone is over. You aren’t alone anymore. Buy him a drink and, after a reasonable juncture, leave. Give him what you came in for. A little solitude, with liquor. There’s no shame in it.

One Thing

If you could only choose one thing to worry about in your entire life (not for the rest of your life, but just in your life) what would it be? If you chose money, you can only worry about money (not global warming, not how your kids will turn out, not whose turn it is to mow the lawn, etc.) The idea is, what's worth worrying about? I've decided for me the only thing worth worrying about is whether or not I'm happy. I know how to be happy, so if I'm not, I'll just get happy right away and have nothing to worry about.

My grandma once had this little poem and I'm not sure if she wrote it or she found it somewhere, but it makes me smile because there are really only two things to worry about:

There Are Only Two Things In Life To Worry About

There are really only two things to worry about;
Either you are healthy or you are sick.
If you are healthy, then there is nothing to worry about.

But, if you are sick there are only two things to worry about,
Either you will get well or you will die.

If you get well, then there is nothing to worry about,
But, if you die, then there are only two things to worry about.

Either you will go to heaven or you will go to hell.
If you go to heaven, then there is nothing to worry about.
But, if you go to hell, you'll be so damn busy shaking hands with old friends that you won't have time to worry!

I love this because really, there is not a whole lot worth the worry. As long as I'm here I'm going to try to do my best, make mistakes along the way (hopefully most will be unintentional!), be happy, and love life; and I believe there's a whole lot to love in this world!

Going! Going! Gahhhhh-REEN!!!

Well, the world might be heating up at a rapid pace, gas should be replaced by water (which I found out recently some have already done; gas companies, however, don't want people to find out that motors have been invented that can run on H2O...youtube it if you're curious!), we're running out of fresh water by the way, and the only trees that will be around in 15 years are those little fake plastic ones. (*disclaimer: I'm not sure how much of this is true by the way!) A couple of months ago, I was assigned the project of researching "Going Green" for ways my office could help save the planet. I'm big on conserving energy and resources for the sake of saving money, improving our living conditions, and so my kids (some day) will have a pretty cool place to live (some day). While surfing the world wide web, bless it, I found all sorts of good-and not so good-stuff. The obvious: carpool, turn off lights and unplug appliances not being used, don't leave the water running when you're brushing your teeth, etc. etc. The odd: sun tan more.  You'll help soak up those UV rays poring in through the abused atmosphere...I may have misinterpreted or read that one wrong.  Hitch hike to work/school/stores/etc. (I may have made that one up too...), and Sheryl Crow's classic-only use one square of toilet paper when you go to the bathroom. To Sheryl Crow, I one up her and say, "Why even use toilet paper then? Honestly, how much is one square gonna do?"  Then I thought of another way we could save water-just don't flush the toilet. This has already been thought of, "If it's brown, flush it down. If it's yellow, let it mellow." Okay, got it. Now, I thought maybe toilet companies will start making smart toilets, like the ones in Japan. We've all heard about the ones that talk to you. Well, this new toilet I'm going to try to invent will flush every third or so push on the flushing handle. Yeah, now reading this, I don't think it sounds as cool as it did in my head when I thought of it earlier this morning.....add this one to the odds!

Disney's "The Parent Trap"

I was eating dinner last night and watching the newer version of "The Parent Trap"; the one with Lindsey Lohan when she was tiny, still red-headed, and freckeled. My favorite Lindsey, if there was one. I love this movie, especially the older one. My mom happens to share this love. It never occurred to me, however, that the story line of the film is somewhat morally wrong. I mean, really, who in their right mind would ever think it okay to split up their twins? Especially if one is staying with the father and the other with the mother? I could understand (maybe) if the twins were split up through adoption, but honestly, where both parents are very wealthy and could easily take care of two kids but decide, "Hey honey, our marriage isn't quite working out. Here, let's split everything 50/50...you take the BMW and I'll take the Lexus...why don't you keep the timeshare in Vail and I'll take the condo in L.A...and oh! perfect, you take one twin and I'll keep the other, but let's never tell them they have a sister!"

Sounds a little screwy to me! I guess there are more crazy family stories in real life, though. I still love these movies. My only other concern is the fact that neither Lindsey Lohan nor Hayley Mills has a twin. I was young when I saw "Parent Trap: the making of the film" with Lindsey Lohan on the Disney Channel and found out she played both roles. I'm almost embarrassed to say I didn't know about Hayley Mills until recently. I guess I just figured that a movie originally made in 1961 wouldn't have the technology to film the trick. In "It Takes Two" we all know the Olsen twins are, in fact, twins.

Well, they sure fooled me! I could have sworn Hayley had a twin Heather or Hannah or Heidi Mills. Oh, that Disney pulled a quick one on me, alright!

Dress Code at the "Rexburg Country Club"

For the fourth of July holiday, my family and I drove up to Idaho to visit friends and family. We planned a jam-fun-packed weekend of activities. First, we went to a lake and boated. Two of my uncles own boats, and they couldn't be more different; exibit A: the Mudlake relatives have a super sleek speed boat in which my uncle performs back flips and serious hang time on the wakeboard and in which the rest of us just try to get up. exibit B: the Bancroft relatives own what we like to call "the boat that qualifies for the White Trash Yacht Club"! This boat is actually amazing. At a top speed of 15 mph, you can really feel a light tug as you are pulled from the back on a giant tube. We set up a picnic table and grill and had a barbeque right there on the lake. Pretty amazing, if you ask me!

The rest of the weekend was full of golf. I asked my uncle if the course we were going to play on the 4th had any dress code (aka, do we need to wear a collared-shirt?) He said (what I thought was jokingly) that there is a tight dress code: tank tops, short shorts, wife-beaters, and flip flops are to be worn. I wore the usual bermuda shorts and a tan shirt with a collar. On about the 15th hole, a young man came through some trees looking for his ball that he thought he had hit from his 18th hole onto our fairway. I thought he was working construction because he was shirtless with raggedy jeans and, yes I don't lie, flip flops!

I guess the dress code at the "Rexburg Country Club" is slightly less strict than other courses!

What's the big deal with Potter, anyway?

Last summer I challenged a friend to a puzzle-putting-together contest. Since me and the boys I nanny do puzzles a couple times a month, I was confident that I could finish the "Starry Night" by Van Gough puzzle in four hours when it had taken this friend of mine probably a little under a month. Recently, the youngest boy and I tried to complete a 300 piece puzzle with Harry Potter print; it came with a magic decoder that revealed hidden images, only visible once the puzzle was complete. After four hours on the first day, I would say Alex and I barely put a dent in it with the completion of the outer border (the easiest part because they all have straight edges so you're positive they are on the outside.) I was pissed when I had to leave work that day because we hadn't finished and therefore couldn't get the secret messages.

Thanks to the Harry Potter puzzle that took us a little over 16 hours to complete, I have learned that I was way out of my practice when I thought I could finish a 1,000 piece puzzle in 4 hours...and maybe I shouldn't be so cocky. Thank you, Harry Potter. Even though I won't read your books, you still find ways to teach me important lessons.

Turning the Light on

Do ever feel like no matter what happens to you, everything will be okay? Like no matter the trial or tragedy, you'll come out on top. Lately I've felt like I'm on top of the world and I can't figure out what, why, or when it happened. I didn't get a raise at work, I still don't have a car, my legs have been hurting for the past two weeks because I've been running in the oldest, hole-iest shoes a person should not be running in, and I still don't know what I want to do when I graduate in December. I think it might have something to do with the Big Guy up there, but I haven't been praying like I should so I'm curious where these feelings of happiness and joy are coming from? All I know is I don't want this to go away, I just want to share it with others. I want to be like the people I look up to who you can just see the light of Christ in them. Like my Aunt Jan. She glows, and the people around her glow just because they are near her. You can't not smile or feel at home when you're around Aunt Jan. I think that's cool. I don't know how she does it, but I would like to share something like that with people.

Oh, to be Jewish Again

I've almost finished "You are SO not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah!" by Fiona Rosenbloom and, I must say, it nearly almost completely reminds me of myself growing up (minus the split parents, private school, and that tiny detail of not being Jewish). I feel for Stacey Friedman though because I once knew an Andy Goldfarb, only his name was Ben Veross. All the same, I fell for him hard. I had been to a few bat mitzvahs, but never actually had my own. I think I even knew of a kid who had one but he wasn't even Jewish. I did, however, have a massive 14th b-day bash in which I invited about 2 dozen girls and it was pretty fun. When I look back at the pictures, I can't believe how awkward-looking we all were. Anyway, from that party I learned that one of my good friends (I'll spare the embarrassment of exposing her name) hooked up with Ben (though when I say "hooked up", in the eighth grade that means barely past holding hands)- yes I was devestated. The real reason for this post comes from a passage in the middle of the book in which I inevitably agree with. The Rabbi is trying to give Stacey advice with her broken heart and drama-filled life: "I think that the only way a person can be happy is to want happiness for others. That's called righteousness. The path toward righteousness begins with acts of loving kindness. When a person performs acts of loving kindness, they do so munificently without expecting any recompense. The actions become the reward. With each deed he is fomenting a connection with God." (p 76) I love the idea that true happiness comes from serving others and wanting others to be happy. I think when we really love someone, all we really want is for that person to be the happiest they can be. Whether that is a boyfriend you have to let go because you know he will be happy somewhere else, or a sibling you go fly out to see because she had a bad week, or an "I LOVE YOU" sticky note secretly placed inside your mom's desk drawer just to make sure she doesn't forget. It really is easy to make others happy, you don't have to search so far all the time. You just try sometimes.

Week In Review

Though it is a Tuesday, it has in fact been a long week since my little sister went back to Idaho with her boyfriend. I thought it would suck for a long time, but after the first three or four days, I think we'll both be okay. We're trying to start a book club; I picked the first read: "You Are SO Not Invited to My Batmitzvah!" We'll probably try to dive a little deeper as the summer carries on.

I started work again, and for the next five months will be faxing, scanning, stuffing and licking envelopes, and driving two kids around to all their activities (tennis, some smart math camp, tae kwon doe, etc., etc.) I tried to teach my dad how to play Guitar Hero, and it hasn't been as successful as I'd hoped. I'll continue to work on that. Speaking of Guitar Hero, I might need to take it easy for the next few days because every time someone is blessing the food and I close my eyes, all I see are little blue, red, yellow, and green dots streaking across a stage in the formation of "Cary on Wayward Son" by Kansas.

I got a birdie for the first time this season at a par 3 course-awesome. I finally went out on a date with a boy I've had a crush on for a decade (though I think it's a dead end; however, Dad always says, "It's not one strike and he's out. It's three strikes. You need to give him [whoever "him" is at the time] a few more chances.") Oh, and I think I'm in love with a dozen new guys....nothing new, I know, but quite exciting.

Runner's High

Sometimes it's harder to find Him and I really have to keep searching. My last day at school this semester I woke up at 5 am and ran to my favorite hill that meets a vast potato field, barely beating the sun. As it rose I found Him again. I'm pretty sure He mainly dwells in nature, far from the city. I turned off my ipod and there was this incredible silence. The air was as quiet as it was crisp and I thought I could stay there all day. The only thing that brought me back was the frost bite growing over my body. I feel His presence most in the quiet solitude of long runs, through trees, around lakes, past fields, along mountains. This is when I feel and I wish I could run forever. I don't want to go home and put up my shoes. I don't want the sounds of birds chirping to be replaced by rush hour. I don't want to leave the enlightenment and inspiration I get, only to return to the "To-do" lists and problems of the world. I just want to run and run and run, until I collapse in His arms. I know He will never forget me, and while I think I will just meet Him again tomorrow, He actually never leaves me even when I leave the trails.

A Crack Went Off in My Head

My brain physically hurt today after Cognition. I swear, the more this class has gone on, the less we talk about psychology and the more about philosophy. If psychology wants to be a real science, this class is no indication of the domain going down the right path. It was like someone was throwing little fire crackers off in my head. What is reality? Is your reality the same as mine? Can you observe the law of gravity? No, you can observe the EFFECTS of gravity, but no, not at all the LAW of gravity. I could hear a fissure from my brain combust till my jaw dropped. Not the surprised drop; more the "I've been watching t.v for hours" jaw drop and too paralyzed to close my mouth. It got better: "Does God govern our natural laws? Or does he have to obey the natural laws?" Trust me, you may think you have it figured out; but, whatever you say, someone's coming back with fire. The devil's advocate, knocking at your front door, to make you see with new glasses and question everything you've ever learned or believed.

I tried to make a few comments, stay with the discussion, until my injured brain went back to freshmen year when psychology was rats pressing levers for rewards; personality assessments (and the ability to analyze my roommates' personalities); invalidity of Freudian concepts and interperting dreams to everything sexual just because they were so outlandish and much funnier that way. The deeper I dive into my major, the more I see psychology is just the sister to her older brother, philosophy.

I wanted to raise my hand once some question about the day when computers outsmart humans will be, and ask, "WHO CARES!" (and then add, "no, that's impossible" but I didn't have energy left in me to lead the discussion down that path.) I want to know the most effecient way to help people! How do we help our neighbors get over their deep bouts of depression? How do I help my best friend sleep at night and get rid of her anxiety? How do I help a loved one get over his OCD and Bipolar disorder so he can live a normal (what is normal?...) life?

I got into psychology to help people from the inside out. I don't want to sit on a rock on a high mountain and ponder if the rock I'm sitting on is real or if it's a figment of my imagination. And then is my imagination my subjective reality, just like yours is yours? Let's not go there. Let's just try to make each other's lives easier. I should have stuck with math...or geology...or education...or maybe I will just be a flight attendant after all, and analyze passangers based on what drink they order from the complimentary in-flight beverage cart.

The Context of a Tear

People cry for all sorts of reasons: a break up, a broken ankle, a death, a birth, a bad day. I never thought that crying can have so many different meanings. I was watching a paid programming about starving children around the globe and I wanted to help, but all I could do was cry. These two little boys had nothing and one was full of tears. It never occurred to me that you could cry because you haven’t eaten in days, maybe a week, and all you wanted was a slice of bread, or a string of cheese. The older brother buttoned up the younger brother’s shirt, maybe the only shirt he owned. A poor and homeless brother helping his younger brother look his best, regardless of their circumstance, the small act of love, and I bawled.

The dilemma is you want to help. You want to help everyone in your reach, everyone out of your reach, just everyone who cries or suffers. But you feel helpless because no matter how hard you try or how many people you do reach, you’ll never reach them all. You can’t help everyone, and that is discouraging. So, where do you start? Who do you try to help first? How do you know if you really made a difference?

I can only think that we all have to start somewhere. We may only touch one single life. But who knows? Maybe that one life was a woman who will be the root of generations. Maybe a wealthy tourist or two will see you volunteering in a Romanian orphanage and want to follow your example. Maybe you have to take baby steps, a smile or a hug here, pick up liter there, perform small acts of kindness, etc. I don’t know, but it never hurt to start somewhere.

Worst April Fool's Day EVER!

I got the usual text messages yesterday: "I'm engaged!" "I'm pregnant!" "I'm on my way to Rexburg to come see you!" and then the culprit, my sister, raised my blood pressure to an all time high with, "I'm going to the Suns vs. Nuggets game tonight!" I immediately surfed the nba.com wedbsite for information about the Suns schedule, as I knew they had just played in Denver March 5th. It was NO April Fool's....she really went to the game. I can't believe I missed seeing Nash in Denver twice in a little over a month's time. What are the odds? I'll be home in less than 10 days. Really, here I am in the butt crack of Idaho while my (I wish) boyfriend was in my home town last night. A-gain, what are the odds?!

Have I Learned My Lesson?

I should know by now when to keep my big mouth shut, but I can’t help that there are cute boys everywhere. If in your head you notice beauty, handsomeness, a chiseled physique, etc. you ought to speak up. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the attractive people around us. Well, unless it backfires on you. Case in point: J.G,J.B, A.?, and my favorite, T.M. So, first story: cute boy sits next to me all semester in Cognition. I didn’t know his name for the first half of the term, I thought it was Blake. Anyway, I know it now and I opened my big mouth to a friend who told a friend, who told his roommate, who told him. Naturally, we went out, and no horror story, but nothing left to pursue.  Number two: my sister’s boyfriend’s roommate happens to be tall, bleach-blonde shaggy hair, balla’ for real!  He dunks, and 75% of the time makes it in every time. Again, I confided what I thought was secretly to my sister during one of our sleepovers. (Yes we have adorable pajamas, yes we paint nails, and yes we spoon.) She told her beau and he told his roommate. I must say, he had a fighting chance. Not only is he adorable, he’s funny, athletic, all-in-all a blast. Again, nothing to pursue (at the moment!) Three: I just met him but apparently he’s been in my school ward all semester. We bowled together and I informed his FHE sister how cute he is. She’s working on a quick last minute hook-up before I go home in 2 weeks. The good news is nothing serious can bloom (I don’t think, anyway!) He’s from Idaho, which makes me think I should stay over the summer….it’s not too late to change plans and spend the summer up here! Last: Okay, another one I just met last week. My absolute favorite-T.M.  He is gorgeous! And way tall. I actually have to look up when I stand next to him-YUMMY! And he’s hilarious (which might clash in a long run, cuz he’s 98% fun-fun-fun, 2% serious/deep.) The minute he left my apartment, I ranted and raved to my roommates that I fell in love. Seriously, I never believed in love at first sight, but OHHHH! it exists! I am smitten by this boy and I don’t even know why. I think my roommates spilled the beans because tonight we were flirting a little, then I got all shy and awkward cuz it occurred to me that he probably knew! Moral of the story(s): I should keep my mouth shut from now on. I can admire cute, gorgeous, handsome, etc. men to myself…then again, what’s the fun in that? Then I wouldn’t go on all these awkward/fun/unforgettable dates and realize he wasn’t quite the one for me. At least at the rate I’m going I never have to live with the regret of not knowing!

Old Fong’s Fortune Cookies, Actually Truths?

I don't know how I feel about fortune cookies. I think they taste alright, not too sweet and not too bland. Tonight for FHE we went to New Fong’s (actually the Old New Fong’s because the real new one is built on 2nd West street.) My fortune read: “Everything will soon come your way.” I feel good about that, except maybe that means everything good and bad? And I'm already getting most of the good, so I don't know how I feel about the rest of everything coming my way. I was hoping for my roommate's fortune which read: “You will take a big risk and win.” If I got that fortune, I’d be halfway to Vegas right now getting ready to take “big risks.”

Then I thought, why don’t they make up real truths, instead of fortunes? If I were typing away in the back, I would give 'fortunes' like: “The big giant one is coming your way”. In the end, I guess fortunes are like horoscopes; they are meant to apply to everything and everything. I think they should switch to more advice giving cookies than fortune cookies, like, “Don’t forget to floss”; “Wear your seatbelt”; “Too much candy will turn your poop green”; real stuff like that. Yeah, I’m gonna send a suggestion right away to New and Old New Fong’s.

Oh, to be in love!

I’ve heard a lot of proposal stories ever since I’ve been up at BYU-Idaho. Most of them are moderate, some are super lame, but some…WOW! Like early today, this guy set the bar. Not only did he get tons of family and friends involved in a Renaissance theme, he got the town horse to go along with it. This proposal will go down in Rexburg history. You would have to be there to get the full effect, but if you’re really curious, contact any girl from Tuscany or any guy from Rockland to give you complete details.

Throughout this magnificent event, which I am proud to have witnessed, I couldn’t help but think about how I want my guy to propose to me. In high school, when I was “in love”, I always thought my boyfriend at the time would pass notes in class and finally he would get caught by the teacher who would then read the note aloud in hopes to reprimand the trouble maker. But, while he stood up and read the note, somewhere among the sweet nothings about me would be, “Will you marry me?” Then the class would cheer and he would whisk me away and we’d ride off into the sunset in his 1996 Subaru Outback. (Though, he’d have to get me back by 3:30 pm for volleyball practice.)

Now that I’m a little older, a little more mature, a lot classier, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I’ve come up with new ideas. 1) We would go to the zoo and walk around. When we got to the monkey exhibit, there would be a huge gorilla who we could feed and he would hand us things; one of the things he would hand me would be the ring box. Then, a parrot would fly down and squawk, “Will you marry me?”

(Okay. So because this is very unlikely, I came up with something else that would be special to me.)

I always fall in love on the golf course, I can’t help it. It has the right setting, good feelings; everything happens on the golf course during the summer. Idea 2) We would be on the 18th hole at the end of a round and putt our final shots. When we walked to retrieve our balls from the hole, my guy would kneel down to pick up both balls. Since he would be on one knee, he would look up at me and open a box that looked like a golf ball on the outside, but had the ring inside, and ask, “Will you marry me?”

Who knows how it will happen? It better be creative and original. It doesn’t have to be fireworks and horses and a circus; but it has to be meaningful and creative.

We All Get Distracted

So, I definitely should have been studying for my Cognition test tonight. I’ve known about it for at least a week; the teacher even pushed back the deadline to take it, he dropped a chapter from the entire test, and he minimized it from 100 questions to 45. What more could I possibly ask for, right? Well, I had all the best intentions of cramming this week. Monday I had FHE-I didn’t actually make it, no excuse. Tuesday I planned a group movie night at the cheap theater-I couldn’t really stand up all my friends. Wednesday, America’s Next Top Model, need I say more? So here I am, Thursday…well, Friday morning really.

Just as I finished my midnight snack, I headed to my room determined to study. On the way I passed the bathrooms and the mirrors. Naturally, I let my hair down, gave it a shake, and blew myself a kiss. Something didn’t feel right. My hair was too flat. Ever since it’s been growing longer I’ve always wondered if I could create the Farrah Fawcett look. So, I curled my hair and topped my do’ off with a dozen spurts of hair spray.

My point is, we all get distracted. Exhibit A: My nephew sat down in the basement with me this past summer and tried so hard to help me with my sewing project. I love my nephew, but when pins, needles, and scissors scatter the carpet floor, it’s an accident waiting to happen. I created a diversion: “Max, I need you to go give this pillow to Grandma. She needs it. Can you go run upstairs and give it to her?”

He gave me his biggest smile and clutched the pillow tight to his chest as he rounded the corner in his awkwardly cute waddle-run. I waited to hear his feet clomping up the stairs when he disappeared behind the corner, but then all I heard was, “SHOES!!!!” Next thing I know, he comes around behind the basement door clunking in Grandma’s big old shoes, no pillow in hand. So, I couldn't help but drop what I was doing, and top off his outfit. We all like to dress up once in a while. It makes us feel good. And we all get distracted.

I may not get a great grade on my Cognition test later, but my hair could stop bird watchers in the mountains. Let’s just say if I were hiking by, they’d be getting more shots of a massive brunette bouffant rather than White-breasted Nuthatches and Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers.

Italian Stallion

The last time I had an honest, sincere crush on a guy, I still wore converse sneakers, ribbons in my half-pulled back hair, and overalls. Yes, the last heart-throbbing, day-dreaming, palm-sweating crush I had was my best friend’s brother. We were in second grade, and he was a cool fifth grader. I remember having my girlfriend tell him every day after lunch that I liked him and thought he was cute.

These days I try to go about revealing my crush through more subtle ways such as smiling, talking, maybe even a little flirting. That would seem to work out, but for the real thing, here’s my story. Last winter, I thought I found the man of my dreams. The one I would marry some day. I just could never get his attention long enough to start a conversation or at least get a name exchange. For that reason, he remains the anonymous Italian Stallion. He’s a cup of hot chocolate: tall, dark, and delicious. (Actually, I don’t think he has a drop of Italian blood in his gorgeous body. He might come from Greece or somewhere exotic where the sun shines most the time.)

Recently, I ran into him at our gym up at school. Midday, not too crowded, plenty of open treadmills, and he just happened to get one right next to mine. Time ticked away. As he warmed up, I saw I had only 3 minutes left till my cool down. I frantically conjured up a plan to get his attention. I would speed the pace up to 10 MPH so he could see how in shape I was. Then, just at the climax, I would “trip” and go flying back off the moving belt. It might hurt, I thought, but the action would prove its worth when he came to my rescue.

Well, this never happened because just as I built up the guts to go through with it, my machine signaled the end reading, “COOL DOWN…5 MINUTES”. I walked out my time, a sweaty mess, and got off. I made my way to an empty corner in the gym and proceeded to stretch. Off in the distance, I could see the Italian Stallion going full speed. Maybe next time I’ll challenge him to a race, I thought. At least I have time before the next rendez vous to think of a more natural (and socially acceptable) approach.

Narrative Distance

Mid-Range: He held her face, pushed her hair back, and kissed her.

Close-Range: He took her face into his strong hands. The wind blew her golden hair around his hold and he brushed a few strays behind her cold ears. He drew her face closer. Just as she thought their lips might meet, he planted a gentle kiss on her soft, pink cheek. She barely felt it, except when he pulled away, the icy air tried to cover the lingering warmth of the embrace on her skin.

Internal-Range: (Okay, so I'm still trying to figure out what my publishing teacher was talking about today in class; I know there are distinct differences among the three ranges, but the only internal-range I can think of gets a little spicy...)

Not A Material Girl

I never really considered myself a “material girl” but I recognize I do live in a material world. Recently, I dropped and broke my hot pink Razr phone. I thought, No big deal. I’ll live, and at least I’ll get a break from the tight leash my phone holds on me. Well, that worked for maybe 5 hours, 4 of which were spent from distractions of class and eating. After I got home, it hit me that I really do need a phone. My younger sister so kindly let me use her old high school phone; silver and blue, complete with a blinking service light, small enough for the trendy factor, thick enough it didn’t disappear in my bag like some of these phones that actually double as bookmarks.

This phone on lease just didn’t cut it. My Razr felt so comfortable, like a favorite pair of underwear. You just never want to take them off. This temporary phone served more like a pair of Granny Panties. Good for emergencies, yes, but embarrassing to be seen with.

I miss all the cool features of my hot pink phone: camera, speaker (I can’t even multitask with this other phone!), multiple alarm times, spicy ringtones, and call waiting. With desperation in my voice and the help of my dad, I found a new maroon Razr on ebay for pretty cheap with all the above features plus a better picture and built-in MP3 player, estimated to get here in three days. No, I wouldn’t really consider myself a “material girl” per se. I’m more of a “bells and whistles” type of girl.

Trains

I got on a train with my best friend. The ride was short, but one of the best ones I've been on. My best friend gave me my favorite flowers three times, but all three times I couldn’t keep them alive. So, for Valentine’s Day, my best friend gave me paper tulips-the kind I couldn’t kill. My best friend brought me diet coke when I stressed over essays, exams, and presentations; one had caffeine and the other was caffeine free so I could decide whether I wanted to stay up all night or not. My best friend knows what my top three favorite candies are and brought them to me often when it showed I had had a bad day. My best friend and I love each other. We found that we weren't headed for the same station, though, so I got off the train tonight. I know he will find someone else to go to that train station with. But for now, I'll wait to get on another train when I figure out where I want to go.

Count Your Blessings

Every Tuesday, in between classes, there is a devotional at 2 pm that lasts for an hour. I think I've made it to at least 6 total over the past 3 semesters since I've been up here at BYU-Idaho. This semester, more than ever, I've been more crunched for time and feeling the heat of deadlines and exams; needless to say, I haven't felt it a priority to attend devotional. I spoke with an old roommate who strongly recommended that I start going because even when she didn't think she had time, she went, and somehow received blessings of finding that extra time here and there to get work done. Yesterday I decided to try it out. The meeting was a really good one. I only fell asleep for 15 minutes in the middle, but definitely caught the key points of the talk.

The best part? Today I had 4 or 5 hours of free time that I found out of nowhere! I have a huge exam in my History of Psychology class that I hadn't studied much for, so I thought, "Perfect opportunity to cram." Well, it sort of backfired on me. I got to the library and fell asleep (again) on my psych book (which was at least open) for a good half hour. I only woke up because my younger sister found me, in which we shared the highlights of our days for another good hour. Then, 'America's Next Top Model' was on, so naturally, we watched that for an hour. And finally, I ran into my old roommate (the same one who gave advice about attending devotional) and decided to go over to her new apartment to look at wedding and honeymoon photos.

That brings me to the, almost-midnight-haven't-done-a-lick-of-studying, present. I have so much to be grateful for everyday. I guess I should always be prepared for blessings, especially the blessing of free time and use it wisely. I must say however, I'm pretty sure I could take a fierce photo shot pretending to be a hot homeless girl who just happens to be wearing a designer pair of jeans, blouse and handbag. Thank you, Tyra.