I don't know how it happened, but I somehow just watched an entire documentary about the 2004 tsunami in the Pacific. It was heartbreaking. I cried almost the whole time.
The documentary featured some survivors of the tsunami who told their stories and shared footage they had shot during the event. As the documentary went on you learned of the families of those being interviewed. One man had three children and a girlfriend. One couple had a young daughter named Isabelle. One man had a wife and two kids. One woman had her parents and her husband. They only interviewed one or two people from each family and it was always an adult, and so I knew for sure that the parents survived but I didn't know about the children until the end.
There was one family with three kids and a girlfriend. The night before the tsunami the son had a series of nightmares about the beach and he warned his family that something very bad was going to happen. The son and his sister Collie stayed home from the beach that day while the father, his girlfriend, and his other daughter went scuba diving. They said there were no fish at all anywhere they looked, and that it was like being sucked into a whirlpool. When they came up again, the hotels were all flattened. They said it looked like a nuclear holocaust had taken place while they were under the water.
They found their bungalow completely destroyed, and they dug around the rubble looking for the son and Collie for two or three days. Finally they got word that the son in a hospital, and the girlfriend went to stay with him while the dad and sister continued to look for Collie. There was a wall where people would post pictures of the dead, so you could know to keep looking or not. Good Morning America was filming the wall when the dad and sister came to look, so you see the moment when they find the picture of Collie dead. It was the most heart-wrenching thing I ever did see. I cannot even fathom the pain they felt and still feel for their loss.
Another couple lost their 5-year old daughter, Isabelle. The mom said she was holding her so tight, but the water ripped her from her arms. The dad searched and searched and searched for her while the mother lay in the hospital badly injured. When he finally found her body, he said he was asked several times- "is this your daughter? Is this your daughter? Are you sure?"
So why am I talking about this. Well, I think it's because I have always felt that it is extremely important to remember. I think of 9/11 every time I see 9:11 on a clock. I think of those poor children at that elementary school shooting basically every time I think of Christmas and my little sister.
I believe that remembering is only part of it though. One of the survivors said that he remembers seeing people die and wondering why he wasn't taken. He said he wanted to make his life worth it, for all those who didn't survive that day.
I have been thinking about my future a lot recently, and through a series of conversations and opportunities and occurrences I have decided that what I want, what I really, reeeaallly want to do with my life, is help others. The most rewarding things I have ever done have involved service. I am, without a doubt, the happiest I can be when I am not focused on myself.
I want to be apart of those humanitarian teams who go in and help when these tragedies strike. I want to be as brave as the men in the video who were grabbing people out of the water and got them afloat. The mother of sweet, sweet Isabelle said that in those days that they didn't know what had happened to their little girl she kept thinking things like, "oh well, she learned to swim yesterday and so she could be fine." or, "maybe someone helped her, found her and helped her." I wish so much that there had been someone around to help Isabelle, but there wasn't. In the future I hope that I can be at the right place and the right time to help someone in need.
So. It's like in that movie In Time. I love that movie. It is so thought-provoking. The rich man asks Will Salas what he would do if he had as much time as he did, and Will said, "I sure as hell wouldn't waste it." In his final message to Will before he dies, he writes "don't waste my time." And Will doesn't. Will spends his time saving others with the ultra-rich, ultra-awesome Sylvia. His and her lives become centered around giving time away to those who would use it for more than just partying and big houses.
I think that it is time for me to stop wasting time. I think 2012 was such a bust because the majority of the time I was very self-centered and spent my time in a selfish manner. It is really important that I help others because I have been blessed with so much.
So! This is my Christmas gift to myself- this higher awareness. I think it can be a really powerful tool to motivate me towards my best self. 2013 is going to be different and so much better because I will be actively pursuing all of my goals at once, because what they all boil down to- Africa, Continuing Promise, learning Arabic, a kick-a internship at the DoD, another internship at NIH, BYU-Jerusalem....is gaining understanding and helping others. This attitude is what will propel me to my goals and will make me a better person. My motto will no longer be WWFRD (What would Flo Rida do?), but rather it is always the best time to be better.
"Because I want to live in Africa and it is spoken in a lot of the northern African states."
This is usually followed by something like, "Why would you want to go there? You know our ambassador was just killed- where was that?"
"Libya." I say. "I'm not saying I want to go to Libya. I'd prefer not to, really."
"So....why?"
Uhmm who knows?
I think what it gets down to is this- I love this country. I have always wanted to give back to America, because I feel so blessed to be born here. I love that I had a good public school education and that I have nice roads to drive my cute car on. I love that I can continue my education and that I am encouraged to. I love that I can practice my religion and my friends can practice theirs. I love that when I told my friend Gina that I was going to learn Arabic she told me within ten seconds of a friend of ours that speaks Arabic, and that that friend was so nice about helping me to learn and that she wasn't the only one. I love all the opportunities that are at my feet because I was born here at this time. I love all the people who made that possible.
I love so much about America, and I have always known that I wanted to do something for America. I considered all sorts of options, but none of them seemed like something I could do or would remotely even like doing. Then last year, I was talking to my sweet friend Rachel and she said, "You know, I want to learn Farsi. If you learn Farsi, you're set for life."
Farsi is one of the main languages in Afghanistan, Iran, Tajikistan, among other countries. If you know this language, that's like your golden ticket into a good, government job, which is what I want. I would like to note, however, that if there is one place in the world that I never wish to go to, it is Afghanistan. I think I would almost rather walk into a shark tank with a billion papercuts. Anyway.
Unfortunately, very few people know Farsi in the United States. That's why it's such a good thing to know. Merg. I learned more about this language in Intro to International Studies. When I came to class with my fact sheet, my professor paired me and the other girl who had written a brief on Farsi with the kids who did Arabic.
Now, Arabic and Farsi are not the same thing, but they are spoken in some of the same parts of the world, and the cast of people speaking either language is similar. So, when I heard that BYU-I was going to start offering Arabic, you can bet that I was all up on that.
With Arabic I can
Live in Africa
Live in DC
Communicate with more people
Participate in the CLS program
Go to BYU-Jerusalem
Did you know that in 2011 there were 440 million native Arabic-speaking people in the world? That's like, 1 in every 14 people. Did you know that standard Arabic is an official language in 26 countries?? That is the 3rd most after English and French. Think about that. More than Spanish, even (21 countries).
Arabic is tough for sure, but someone told me that it isn't harder than any other language, and I believe them. I can do this. I can learn Arabic. I want to, it's needed, this is how I can help my country. I think I've finally discovered how I can do all the things that I want to do.
I didn't know it two months ago, but it looks like Arabic is the ticket to my dreams :)
This time last year I had just gotten home from school. It had been literally the worst four months of my life. I was the most miserable person. I was at my lowest in every single aspect of my life. I was so happy to be home, and now that I was here I kind-of just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. Sad, huh?
But then something happened that changed my life. I was offered a nanny position in DC.
At first I didn't even want to take the job. I had applied not really thinking of anything but making my father happy that I was being kind-of productive. So when I aced the interviews and M asked if I would take the job, I was honestly quite shocked. I heard myself saying, "of course! I would love to! Thank you so much!"
I felt my heart squeeze and my stomach drop as I hung up the phone. I guess I had a job? And I guess I wouldn't be living with my family anymore during the week? And I guess I suddenly loved kids? And I guess I would have to finally learn the metro system?
I panicked a little. What in the world had I just done?! I didn't want this! I wanted to be home! That was all that I wanted- to live at home and have a home-cooked meal every night and hang out with Julie and Gina and my family all the time and drive around in my car. And I had literally just taken that away from myself in the course of three interviews and a few email exchanges. What was WRONG with me?!
I seriously considered calling M back and being like, "nevermind jk I don't want it thanks though bye!" but I didn't, because I really needed the money, because I was in the negatives in my bank account.
Yeah.
You can read all about how much I loved my job and how the lil guy became my best friend and how well I adjusted to city life and how now all I want to do is live in DC and blahblah (they actually are pretty good posts, so go on! read up, buttercup!). Continuing on....
I made a goal at the beginning of my off-track last year. It was that I would "get a good job that I enjoy and will make me a better person." That job more than fulfilled those requirements. Those were literally the happiest four months of my life. That job was, in every way, ex-actly what I needed. And I think that's the point.
I was talking to Heather the other day and she said that in life, we don't always get what we want, we get what we need.
She is so smart! Last year, I wasn't getting anything that I wanted it seemed. I came home and my room was taken over by my little sister, my car wouldn't work, I wasn't going to be living at home the majority of the time, I was taking up a childcare position in a city that I was scared of, and basically it was all just a big mess in my head.
But for some reason (God being really nice to me), that odd series of what seemed like very unfortunate events combined together and spat out the perfect storm. I didn't even remotely want any of those things, but they turned out to be exactly what I needed.
Girls are always making lists. Like, "My husband will always open the door for me, kiss me goodnight, tell me I'm pretty at least 18 times a day, and bring me flowers spontaneously 13 times a month. Oh. And on Wednesdays we wear pink."
She is a high maintenance girl.
I kind-of don't think about my list for my honey-smoochie-pie that often, mostly because I don't need to. I'm not getting married for like, 6 years, so it's not something I need to worry about now. However, I actually thought about this today for a second, and I would like to record some of the things that are important to me that my husband will know/do/say/whatever. Ehm....
....So I just wrote them down and it's a long list and that's kinda not the point of this blog post. The point is that there is one thing that is above all on the importance scale to me. And that is that....
My husband needs to go with me to Africa.
But wait, there's more.
Africa is a big commitment. My husband needs to want to go to Africa. I would so love it if he wanted to go even before I told him that I did, if it was something he'd dreamed of even before he met me.
It kinda isn't enough for me if he just wants to go because I do and he wants to be with me. I know that sounds bratty but it's actually not. Listen. I don't want someone to make that huge decision and then regret it. And want to go home. And resent me for dragging him off to Africa. That is the opposite of what I want.
At the same time, if a boy I'm dating doesn't want to go to Africa. even won't go to Africa, there's no way that that relationship will get very far.
Africa is what I want. If that's not what you want then you are not what I want, and I am not what you want.
My future husband needs to fulfill these requirements. And this is not numbered bc it's not by importance. They are all equally important.
Not really.
Know when an avocado is ripe and act accordingly.
Not make me feel bad about my paleness
Say funny things
Think I'm funny
Want to talk about current events with me and get as excited about them as I do
Not be sensitive about dumb things
Not argumentative. He needs to be really chill
Let me drive when we're going somewhere together. Not every time, but sometimes you know?
Be really happy that we're married and tolerate with sweetness how many times I will inevitably bring it up
Want to adopt kids
Love Star Wars and watch the old ones with me whenever I so wish
Love Arthur
Love my friends especially Gina
Love my family
Love me
Love the USA
Be a US citizen
Be okay with how much I watch The Office
And Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses
And the Dark Knight
And Taken
Ehm.
Appreciate nature
Love hanging out with me!
Travel with me and enjoy it!
Be smart
Love to learn
Depending on how I/he is when we meet, he will either be getting his bachelor's or his master's. I would not mind him getting a Ph.D. if his heart so desires, but an education is important
Be protective of the things that I love
Be protective of me
Be good at picking up what I'm putting down
Understand most if not all of my movie and song references
Appreciate natural light
Have a happy disposition
Love to work
This one sounds weird I know, but I love to work and I think a good work ethic is really important in a husband, because I don't want to be the sole provider for our family. Sorry, feminists.
Read The Economist and al Jazeera with me
Love hiking but only the right kind of hiking. As in it must be on a dirt path under the cover of many trees on a mountain. None of that R Mountain crap. Get a life.
Love dogs
Like kipper snacks, or at least not tell me how ugly I am if I eat them.
Love Oreo McFlurries
Have a nice, genuine smile
Be a kind, caring, giving person
Love paying tithing
I'd prefer if he doesn't have blue or green eyes. I really like brown eyes. I wish I had brown eyes.
Love Orville
Be good with money
Surprise me cutely sometimes :)
Understand how important sleep is and how much I love it
Like to listen to me play flute
Love Christmas as much as I do
And the 4th of July
And Thanksgiving
BE NICE TO WAITERS/WAITRESSES
Tip well
Always say please and thank you and smile at them
Alright. This turned out to be so much longer than I thought it would be, and actually I'm sure it could be much longer, but that's it for now. Happy searching for me!
Actually I guess that's not true. I have liked President George W. Bush since I was in 4th grade. I was in 4th grade when 9/11 happened. As a simple 9 year-old I saw something bad happen and then I saw an incredible amount of pride in our country sweep the nation. I saw our President acting strongly and speaking resolutely. I liked what he had to say. I liked that he wasn't going to let those people who had hurt my countrymen and women get away with it. I liked him and I have liked him ever since.
This is one of my favorite pictures :)
Now, this is not to say that I agree with everything he's ever done ever in his life. I like him the same way that I like President Obama. Yeah that's right guys, I like President Obama.
Again though, I am not saying I agree with any/all/some of his policies. The truth is there are things I disagree with for both of them. But here's why I like them....
I like them bc I don't think either of them meant/means to harm America. I believe that both of them LOVE America! This makes me happy.
Now, just because I like somebody doesn't mean it stops there. I do wish that certain things weren't happening in America right now. The same goes for when the Bush Administration was around. You can like someone and not agree with everything they do. It's allowed, guys.
I think it's okay to disagree with someone's policies, but that doesn't make them the anti-Christ. It doesn't mean they are horrible people. It just means that they think and act differently than you, and I personally like that we have the freedom to do that.
The other day I saw this thing. I think it was on facebook. It was this picture
And the caption was something like, "President Obama caught reading a book by fellow Muslim Fareed Zakaria. It is called The Post-American World. Have any doubts about where his policy choices are leading now??"
I was so pissed off by this. Here's the dealio, guys. I read Fareed Zakaria. Paige and I lovee reading Fareed Zakaria. Any PoliSci student has read/will read/is reading right now Fareed Zakaria. He is a noted Political Scientist who is a naturalized US citizen. In one of his lectures he said, "I voted with my feet. I wanted to be part of America."
No, I am not saying that I agree with everything Fareed Zakaria says. I don't. However, I do very much love hearing him talk. He is an excellent speaker and I enjoy the perspectives he gives. He is a pretty smart guy.
I think it is really bad politics to try to take something about someone like religion and have that be the say-all, end-all of that person. Just because someone is Mormon, or Catholic, or Muslim, or Protestant, does not mean that they are the worst human being imaginable and not fit to run the country. It just means that they are someone who has a different religion than you.
"I find it preposterous that in 2011 we’re debating whether or not a man is qualified or worthy of your vote based on whether or not his religion ... is a disqualifying provision."
-Vice President Joe Biden on Romney's Mormonism
I seriously love that quote.
Now, this isn't to say that everyone is on equal grounds here. If the president of a crazy cult was running for office, it would be a different story. If someone publishes a book, say it is called....Mein Kauf and in it he details his plans for the destruction of entire peoples, you should judge him based off that absolutely.
But bringing religion, race, etc., into things is such a desperately low blow. It's bringing politics away from politics. Those things shouldn't matter to you.
What should matter are the policies of those running. Do you know them? You should. Blindly going along with someone bc of anything else is not the way it should be done. Holding grudges because of one policy that you don't like is another wrong way to go about politics.
It is important to remember that, like him/her or not, we are stuck with our president for at least four years andd it could even be eight. So, you can sit around griping about it all you want, those four years are still gonna happen. It would be very beneficial, however, if you stopped saying everything that was going wrong and started coming up with solutions and sharing them with others in a constructive manner. We don't always need to be at each other's throats. It is quite unproductive.
America is the leader of the free world, and its citizens should consider that responsibility, whether they want us to have it or not, very carefully. Our decisions of those we vote into office will absolutely affect the entire world. We should take it seriously and look at what matters.
You can be very naive. And think that "getting a fake" is getting a fake tan, or that a hanger party is a party wherein girls walk around with hangers and wait for boys to come tie a ribbon or something around their hanger. And then they dance all old-fashioned-like! And no one ever gets hurt by the hangers.
Sometimes your Understanding DNA teacher is absent. Right before a test. That he only told you about last Friday and it's Monday. And you had a test last Wednesday for that class. And he didn't even teach you half of what is supposed to be on the test. And you just know that in his head that is okay, and he's like "good luck, suckers! No one will ever pass my class, ever! Bwahahaaaa!"
Sometimes things like that make you upset bc you really care about and love this class, and your fuh-reaken hours of studying should be rewarded somehow.
Sometimes you never ever sleep at your house on Friday nights, and you can't even remember the last time you did so. And it's not even a big deal, even though you sometimes don't see any of your roommates for two days straight.
Sometimes, you see dysfunctional relationships and you honestly have no idea what to do except talk about it. Because even though you're not a gossipy B, you just don't know how to handle it and you need advices.
Sometimes, it's none of your business, and you need to accept that and let people make their own mistakes.
But sometimes that is really hard to do.
Sometimes, your roommate gets a boyfriend and you don't even know quite how you manage it but sommeeehow there is never a normal moment when you are around the two of them. In fact, by now you most definitely know much more about him and how his brain works and his life and knowledge of all things sexual and you honestly have no idea how it came to all of this.
And sometimes he's like, "don't be gross! I didn't mean that." And then does into a very detailed description of what that is, and you're like, "oh my gosh be QUIET. I have noo desire to speak of this with you I just wanted my water bottle!" But he just keeps going and it becomes very apparent to you that not everyone is good at picking up what you are, so extraordinarily clearly, putting down.
Sometimes, a convict escapes from work detail in St Anthony and everybody freaks out, except your roommate who says he will never come here.
Sometimes you discuss with your other roommate and you both agree that he would indeed come here, bc that is what Tweener did in Prison Break.
Sometimes no one else watches Prison Break so they don't believe you and try to tell you its unrealistic.
Sometimes, you are going home in a little over two weeks and you just don't believe it, but you start packing anyway.
Sometimes the girls in your complex and the complex next to yours go to bed super-early and it's weird and you feel afeared when you're the only one up at 1 in the morning.
Sometimes, your best friend is in Africa, and you're so happy for her but you miss her so much.
Because sometimes, even when you are separated by two thousand miles, it doesn't seem like it is that far bc you still talk sometimes. But now that she is much farther away, and you never talk, sometimes you really feel that distance. And sometimes that makes you realize how much you relied on and needed her.
And sometimes that realization makes you a very sad girl, and you hate all these sad understandings you've been getting lately.
Sometimes, you actually go to your own ward for once and you quickly figure out exactly how toolish your FHE sons are, and it is disappointing as well as annoying as shiiii bc they think they are sooo cool and they are just not. Not at all.
And sometimes, it makes you never want to go to FHE. And you don't want to fix it with them bc what's the point? Tools gonna tool- and not just sometimes. They don't think they're doing anything wrong, and you don't have the time and you certainly don't have the patience to explain to them the multitude of things they've got backwards.
And sometimes you aren't even interested in seeing them ever again, because sometimes they disgust you that much.
Sometimes you think about how ironic it is that the most toolish boys you know are LDS, and some of the nicest are the ones your dad would be most upset to see you bring home.
Sometimes, you haven't written your missionaries in awhile, and you feel horrible, and you miss them a lot more than you ever thought you would. And sometimes that makes you sad.
And sometimes, all of this happens at once, and you just get so sick of it and want more than anything to go home.
Once upon a time last week I was having the worst day. I had pulled an all-nighter the night before and I was just plain desausted. My hairs looked 'orrible as did my face, and I found myself nodding off in Lamoreaux's class many times.
And yes, he did notice. What is: the opposite of brownie points? (Jeopardy moment. Just go with it.) This is what I saw in my brief moments of consciousness....
I am ashamed. Anyway.
All that I wanted was to be able to take an hourish-long nap after Foreign Gov't and before my Understanding DNA presentation, and as soon as class was over I marched with this purpose toward the Taylor.
The Hinckley chapel, I had discovered earlier, was occupied by some presentation. Normally I would be quite disheartened by this information, but I was too tired to focus on the injustice of it all and instead, shook it off and continued on my quest for a nice, quiet, secluded pew.
I smiled in sleepy anticipation as I approached the Taylor building. The Taylor chapel had always been a very nice sanctuary for me. I would go there at least three times a week during the Winter semester and just nap to my heart's content. I was very much looking forward to its peace and quiet. I reached the door and opened it with gusto. I was seconds away from sleep! I turned to walk into the chapel....
....and then turned right back around. Because guess the freak what guys? There, on the very pew where I was to lay my tired head, was the butt of some business student.
Oh and over there too.
And there.
And there.
And in that corner as well.
Just like that.
As I turned to go I bumped into several business students. They looked at me, trying to figure out why I was going against the grain. They took in my cute but hastily put-together outfit that, okay, didn't quite match. They saw my tired, forlorn expression as I plodded sadly away and realized that my purpose for going there had been disappointed. They gave me a look of superior pity. Much like this....
And I was like, BITE ME.
Tears blurred my vision as I hopelessly stumbled out into the intense heat of the day. All around me were business students. Some of them smiled at me, all too cheerful to be stomping, quite literally, all over my dreams. I saw right through their whitened smiles and bright, friendly eyes. They knew ex-actly what they were doing. They walked into my chapel, sat down on my pew, ruined the sanctity of MY NAP PLACE.
I hurried away from the horrible scene as fast as my half-conscious legs could carry me. I had been texting Chelsea at the time (she had just seen the ginger Rexburg Rapper. It was a great moment for all), so I accordingly sent her a very distressed message about my pitiful situation. She texted back that I should go and sleep at the Crossroads, but I was already on my way because I stalk Chelsea on a regular basis and knew she was most likely to be there.
I found her and flung myself down on the couch next to her. "He-ey," Chelsea said gently, giving me a look of utmost sympathy.
"Oh! My liiife," I moaned in the most dramatic fashion. Chelsea listened as I ranted about all the dumb people who were taking over my bed(s). She patted my arm and nodded her head many times and said things like, "yeah what the french toast hockey sticks?!"
and "why the why couldn't they have had the meeting somewhere else?"
and "you are much more important than them!"
As I threw my head down and said things like, "all that I have ever wanted....all that I have ever even wanted at all in this life is to take a nap in the Taylor chapel!"
and "I feel personally attacked by this. I just knoww they planned it to ruin my life in such a fashion!"
and "How DARE they do this to me! Oh-hh!"
....I will take this moment to say that I honestly have no idea if she or I actually said those things because I was prettymuch braindead anddd I just don't bemember. Also, I am aware how dramatic this is. Whatever.
Anyway.
So then she was like, "Well, why don't you just take a nappy-poo here?" She patted the couch excitedly. "Yeah! Take a nappy-poo here!" I smiled broadly at her creativity and obediently thunked my head down on the table. I frowned. This was soo not comfortable. I shifted. And twisted. And did a couple cartwheels and backflips but nothing ever worked and I was just uncomfortable and put-out. This is what I looked like....
Or like this....
Seeing my sad state, Chelsea asked kindly, "would you like me to sing you some lullabies?" Of course that is precisely my heart's truest desire! Chelsea has the most best singing voice to me, and I just love hearing her sing. This is actually quite monumental, if you must know. I usually hate when people around me sing. I actually texted Chelsea about this very thing today! This so-annoying girl was sitting next to me in the crossroads and she kept humming in that obnoxious way that you're like, okay what the crap there is a bee in my ear. 'Scuse you stop it now or have your vocal cords removed.
Anyway.
So then Chelsea sang me the most lovely lullaby that she sings to her nephew! I happily snuggled into the couch and drifted off into dreamworld.... ....for all of six seconds. I was in that weird place between consciousness and sleep that you only ever become aware of if you are suddenly jerked from it. Which I was. I heard sniffling and sat up in a slightly grumpy, very confused daze. You'd best believe I looked like this....
I looked over and saw one of my friends sitting on the other side of Chelsea, who had abandoned her singing for soothing words and consoling pats. This friend was crying because something bad had happened to her. Chelsea fixed her right up, saying all the right things and listening in the best way. Sad friend was beginning to calm down when Kaylie (who looks like this all the time....
)
approached the table. "Chelsea," she said urgently. "I don't know what's due for Understanding DNA!" Sad friend scooched down the bench and sat next to me, where we both pitied ourselves and tried to help the other, all the while waiting for Chelsea to come and fix our pathetic selves again.
Chelsea helped Kaylie figure out what was due and then sent her on down the bench to get to work because by this time, you guessed it- ahNUTHER (I know how to spell "another" correctly. Please calm down.) girl came up, begging assistance from the only person in the universe who could make anything okay on that fateful Friday- our dear Chelsea-poo. I think this girl needed help with anatomy. By this time Kaylie, Sad friend, and I were spread out quite nicely on the couch bench, so Chelsea and the other girl moved to a table behind us to get to work. Sad friend and I began to work on a math project that I had while we waited for our motherChelsea to return. We separated M+Ms by color and counted them. I don't even want to talk about it.
Oh except for that I shared with this group of random strangers later that day and then accidentally left all my M+Ms. Even the peanut ones. And I was sore depressed.
Anyway.
This menial task improved our moods significantly, and we even had a photoshoot with Kaylie, bc what else were we supposed to do? And I would like to say that now Kaylie's prof pic is one of her and I from that photoshoot and I am pleased as punch about this because I truly and really love Kaylie. She is one of my very favorites!
This is the one! Hiiiiiii Kaylie :) But anyway.
All this work and photography took up the remainder of the space, and by the time Chelsea came back to deal with her own problems (homework), her textbooks and pens and things had been shoved to the very farthest corner. She gazed upon the spot she had picked out with a sad resignation and I put myself in her (very fashionable and cute) shoes.
I imagined her a mere hour earlier arriving at the Crossroads, bright, happy, and chipper. She had a lot to get done, and she wanted to be comfortable. She had spotted a relatively uncrowded area and settled into the soft, cushy bench. She had made sure there was lots of table space for her textbooks and flashcards and taplop. She began to quietly pound anatomy terms into her head, stopping every once in awhile to gaze with pride at her carefully organized space.
Perfect.
She was being very productive, occasionally texting her friend Nicole, who was in her Foreign Gov't class and tired as crap. When Nicole had showed up, she expected the girl to just fall asleep, no biggie. But the situation had quickly spiraled out of control. Suddenly she was quite busy, burping (patting soothingly) and feeding (building up the self-esteem of) and potty-training (dealing with the leaky faucets of) 20-year-old girl quintuplets that she hadn't even known she'd had.
In the course of ten minutes her peaceful study time had turned into a marathon therapy session. And now her beautiful spot was ruined, filled with children all in need of her assistance and pity. The poor things simply could not get along without her, that much was clear. They needed their mothers, and Chelsea, with her fabulously chosen outfit, was the closest thing.
I looked sadly upon her, realizing I could relate. My spot had been rudely yanked out of my hands just that morning. I opened my mouth to say that we would all scooch down, but Chelsea just sighed and said, "I am every single person here's mother." We, her children, looked up and down the row at the lot of us and nodded solemnly.
"I helped all of you," The nodding became more intense except for mine. All that jostling around was giving me a headache. Chelsea handed me some ibuprofen. No she didn't.
"And now," She continued. "Nowww there is no room on the soft seats, so I am going to sit on one of the hard seats." We all opened our mouths to protest but Chelsea held up her hand and said above the cries of her quintuplets, "Because that, thattt is what you do when you are the mother." And then she grabbed her notebook and pen and plopped down on the other side of the table, on the cold, hard chair.
whatasaint.
And that is why Chelsea is the youngest person I know to have quintuplets, because even though there was only four of us that I counted, I am very positive that we are not the only pitiful human beings she mothered that day. Chelsea is just the best, and I love her so. And if you had such a friend, wouldn't you blog about it too?
Mother!
Oh wait. Actually....
But umm really.
Oh. Anddd I would like to make a disclaimer right now:: This may or may not be an accurate portrayal of all that went down that lovely day. You figure it out.
So I know this guy, and he has a trademark. He is ALWAYS wearing purple-striped socks. Like, allll the time. I always thought this was so nerdy. I would laugh at his fashion statement in my head and someeetimes tease him about it, but in a nice way.
Then this boy and I parted ways, and it was fine. He ventured off to Provo and I sludged through the wind and rain and snow up to the wasteland that is Rexburg, Idaho. I didn't think about this boy much, but sure I guess I missed him and his peculiar fashion statement. Then last year, he went on a mission to a very anti-purple place, and he could no longer wear his purple-striped socks. You knoww that that made me sad for him.
Anyway.
So I guess it is safe to say that this boy may have left an impression on me. It's a possibility. And now I have a problem that I discovered the other day while walking to class. My problemmm is that now, whenever I see a guy wearing purple-striped socks, I instantly remember this boy. Can he pleasee get out of my head?? But wait- it doesn't stop there.
It is a possibility that perhaps I sort-of instantly think that the boy wearing the purple-striped socks is attractive. And I might get a little bit distracted. And almost run into other people. Or walk past the building that houses my classroom. Stop judging me. I never said I actually diddd those things, okay?!
And of course this really is about purple-striped socks. You thought I was kidding? :)
So this semester is just a little under a month old, and it was going very well. I was playing with my friends, and getting good grades, and I was even a litle bit tanner than when it first started. But then something happened. I logged onto my school account and saw some red writing at the side of my page.
I did a double-take and saw with deep sadness that I had....a bad grade. A really, really bad grade.
I gazed at it with deep sadness. A bad grade already. It was right there, staring me in the face, making me feel crummy and disappointed in myself.
Now, bad grades are not a novel concept in my life. Why in the world would I be going to BYU-I DO if they were? But. This semester was going to change all that. I was going to fix so many things by being good this semester. I was determined to not let anything stop me.
I also set other goals, and I was doing okay at the end of last semester and the beginning of this one, but then I just stopped. Then I just started getting bad grades in life.
NO.
I will NOT allow this to go on! This semester is freaken young. I am freaken young. I can do anything I set my freaken mind to. I don't know why I freaken keep using the word freaken.
So anyway, here is my list of goals for the rest of this semester. I've set up several things that will make me accountable for the execution of these goals, so in conclusion, I am not allowed to fail. Here they are....
Get straight freaken As
Get math homework done by Thursday at 5pm. That is a full 24 hours before it is due. For the past two weeks I've had to stay up until 6 in the morning doing this crap because I don't want to leave it until after my Friday classes, which end at 1:45. HOWEVER, I have been staying up until freaken 6 in the morning doing it, so of course I sleep through my Friday classes, and that, kids, is NOT okay.
Go to all of my classes. I am officially not allowed to miss class ever again unless I am out of town. I don't care how tired I am or how shizzy I look, I will be getting my butt up that hill.
Go on Sunday walks. The girls that I'm living with next year go on Sunday walks. Heather says that she walks for hours and she loves it and I think that I would love that too. I haven't decided if I want to join them or go off on my own but Sunday walks sounds like a really good Sunday activity.
Listen to good Sunday music on Sunday. I think a problem that I have is that I haven't been making Sunday very special lately. So from now on I will make Sunday a special day. I will get up earlier than I usually do (which, for your information was 12:21ish and I have church at 1). I might even eat breakfast! I will make myself pretty and listen to beautiful Sunday music. It doesn't have to be EFY but like, Celtic women or Josh Groban or "The Prayer," by Andrea Bocelli and Josh Groban!
Be an awesome FHE mom!
Tone down the internet distractions. This means less facebook, less netflix, less everything!
Drink green smoothies so I'll have high iron and I'll be able to give blood whenever I want to! I saw a sign for an upcoming blood drive and I nearly peed myself. I am SO EXCITED. Also, a sidenote praise for myself.... I was at the store with Merrin the other day, shopping it up as we do, and I found myself walking straight for the spinach. My feet are so smart! They know where I truuuuely want to go! :) I also have been mixing them up lately. I got blackberry-pomegranate yogurt and put blackberries and blueberries and orange juice and spinach all together for a delicious party! And then the last time I was shopping I got strawberry-kiwi yogurt and strawberry-orange sunrise or something like that and moreee blackberry-pomegranate and just plain peach and strawberry and just lotsa different kinds! I should really write a blogpost only about these smoothies because I love them so much and I've gotten all my friends into them. And what's funny is that it was my Grandpa that got my mom into them who got me into them, so really my Grandpa is a trendsetter. Whodda thunk? :)
Do the Men's Fitness workout thing! I was so good at it when I was doing it once upon a time!
Do laundry once every two weeks. You don't even want to know how often I usually do my laundry. Okay wait that makes me sound gross. I'm not, I just have a lot of clothes.
Lay out with Heather 2+ times a week. She lays out in the morning and I don't have morning classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays so I really should be doing something productive with my life.
Have lunch with Brittany once a week. Thursdays, if you must know.
Hang out with Chels once a week. Whenever we have a moooment for some FUN.
Hang out with KD and Sophia more often. We are going CAMPING this weekend hopefully and I am sooo excited. I love these girls and it is an absolute crime that I don't see them more often. The other day KD said to Sophia and I, "You know that....we're the only ones left. Lindsey isn't coming back until after her mission and Paige is getting married and moving to England. It's just us." And it made us all very melancholy but happy that we had each other.
Get Paige a crimper or cocomotion for a wedding gift. I will be looking everywhere for these items!
Floss every day! I used to be so good at this! Siiighh.
Be a better friend. I think I could be a lot better than I have been. I think sometimes I just take people for granted maybe? Like, I'm not mean, but I could be better. I have some specific people in mind or this goal, but it's also just a general goal that I have for myself.
No more naps! I am officially saying no to this practice!
Be frugal! I really, reaaallly want to go to Disney World with Chels at the end of this semester but in order to do that I need to have a specific amount of money. So. I needna continue being AWESOME.
Give clothes to the DI. I have way too much and I need to let someone else enjoy what I do not! And then I can get new clothes!
In addition to this, I need to set up a job for the off-track. I want to have one lined up at the beginning of July, if possible. I really hope to be able to work for M+M again, but who knows? We'll see.
Get a job at school?? That would be so awesome!
Have daily scripture study and prayer. I think that I should do my scripture study maybe in the morning? I feel rushed in the evening because I just want to go to sleep. Also, I want to be kneeling for my morning and evening prayers because that's more respectful and also I bet it'll help me concentrate more.
Okay, I think that's good for now. Hooray, hooray! :)
I was in the Living Room and Tom and Tara were watching Anne of Green Gables. And then Anne totally fell into the river and Gilbert effing saved her. And asked to be her friend. And it was soooo sweet! And I was baffled. I was like, "Gilbert is cute?? What?!" I freaked out, guys, because I never even knew it. I never knew it at all.
If any of you are wondering a typical conversation I have with myself, well today is your lucky day. A few weeks ago I had the following conversation in my head....
"I should really blog soon. I should blog about Utah! That is a good idea, Nicole. Start it tonight!"
Later on....
Okay go on, blooogg already! But I don't want to blog about Utah. I want to blog about how crappy my life is. Nicole, your life is sooo not crappy. All these great things have happened to you just today! Like whaatt?? Weeelll you got to tan. I didn't tan. I only burned on two awkward part of my legs. Whaaatt is up with that?? There Heather is, over there, beezing a bronze goddess and all you have to show for three hours in the sun is NOTHING but those embarrassing marks on your legs. You are a failure. No, no, Nicole you are so not! You are so cute! Bemember how that guy was totally hitting on you at the pool? That's something! Hmmjes, but I basically ran away from him and then went and got karma-ed up in the form of a bad tan sunburn :( Buuuuttt, but! your sunburn will turn INto a tan! Oh wonderful. I will have two abnormally dark mark on my legs. I'm sure I will make so many friends. Oh shut up you are being so whiny.
Do not be fooled by its commonplace appearance. Like so many things, it is not what outside, but what is inside that counts. This is no ordinary lamp. It once changed the course of a young man's life. A young man, who, like this lamp, was more than what he seemed.
A diamond in the rough.
And now another one....
And of course we cannot forget Susan Boyle....
And this one just makes me cry my eyes out so I had to put it in here....
I LOVE these performances. They are amazing, fantastic, mind-boggling. The talent these people have is astounding. But what really strikes me about these clips is how humble these people are. They have clearly been through the mill when it comes to life. Jonathan was made fun of- all of his life he was made fun of. Sung-bong Choi was dumped at an orphanage at age three and beaten until he finally ran away. Susan Boyle was underestimated and belittled. Why? Why do people think they have the right to be mean?
As I watched these clips I just about bawled my eyes out. It is so easy to judge by appearances. I do it, you do it. The first thing I look for is if someone has a uni-brow. There is no stopping it, but you don't need to let that be the only thing you base your opinion on.
That boy Jonathan is so shy and nervous and timid. He is soo low on his confidence level it's a little bit unbelievable. That might be stage fright, but I think it's also, as he himself says, a result of the mistreatment he went through since elementary school. Why in the world were those kids so mean to him? Because he looked a little different? Because he wasn't awesome at basketball or whatever they call it over there? I'm so glad he has Charlotte. She is so kind and supportive of him. I hope all of those kids who were mean to him feel really crummy right now.
With Sung-bong Choi he was abandoned. Now, I don't know his family's circumstance but it is so sad that a child at age three was left at an orphanage. By that time he had gotten to know his family a little bit, and he probably loved them too. My lil guy was just barely two when I came back to school and already he was talking and everything! I can only imagine how traumatizing that abandonment must've been for poor little Sung-bong Choi, but then it got even worse because the people at the orphanage would beat him! How in the world did those people get hired?! I want them all fired and in jail right now. Anyone who is cruel to children have no excuses and they deserve every bad thing society can throw at them.
I do not know if Susan Boyle was ever hurt by mean words before, but everyone was so scoffing an skeptical at the beginning of the video. Hmph. So glad she proved them wrong.
I know that if people judged by appearances alone I wouldn't have nearly as many friends as I do now. This isn't a stab at my appearance, it's more of an acknowledgment of the attractive level of my friends. I have really pretty/handsome friends, guys. Once upon a time two groups of my friends met, and a boy who I wasn't really friends with implied that I only want them all to meet so they could see how pretty my friends were, thinking that I was superficial B who bases her friendship on looks.
I have a theory of why my friends are so pretty/handsome- they are this way bc they are so nice. I firmly believe that people who are kind are beautiful, and they stay beautiful. Whenever I am being snobby, or flat-out mean I can see it happen- I get ugly. It's true. In contrast, whenever I am trying especially hard to be nice I always get compliments and make new friends. I'm telling you- the best beauty trick is being kind.
And I think that that is why I love these videos so much. These performers are just so beautiful to me bc of their kind hearts and boldness. They've had such a bad time of it, but they still managed to remember that they have a fabulous gift and they went and they shared it and they got all these people to root for them. Their stories have hopefully done a lot of good and I know for a fact that I am not the only one who cried while watching them step out of their shells. Holy chicago I love underdogs.
I love shows like this, bc once you sift through all the egos and advertising and ordinary you get to this stuff, the amazing stuff. You hear stories that break your heart, and see performances that you feel from your toes to your head. You get to be a part of a stunned audience of millions that sees someone who has not yet been so beaten that they can't try one more time, even though by all accounts a lesser person would be. I am so incredibly grateful that they had the courage to share their gifts.
They are wonderful.
They are fabulous!
They are, the very definitions of diamonds in the rough.
I have all these goals, and I guess I just forget them until something forces me to remember them. Today I was sitting in the BYU-I Center (fondly known as the BUICK) and I heard the most beautiful music. Ever! It was soo pretty and it reminded me of something, and that something is this-
Listen to it all. It is the most wonderful thing in the world.
I heard it first when I went to Disney World when I was in 5th grade, so a long time ago. We bought the CD and I fell in love. I had the whole thing memorized in a manner of days thanks to my obnoxious habit of listening to one song over and over again. Hmm.
Ever since then I have wanted with all my heart to play in a good band/orchestra. In high school I like to think we were pretty cool, and all the judges from the competitions agreed, but I don't want to just play in a band. I want to play a song that will inspire people! I want to play a song that is not all just runs for the flutes, but has all these exciting rhythms and changes of time and pace and keys and CRESCENDOS. Guys, I want to play this song.
I am not an awesome flute player, but I am really dedicated, and I guarantee that if I was given the opportunity to play in an orchestra that was playing this song I would drop everything else and practice for hours and hours till I got it right. I have no problem spending my time on something like this. I get very one-track-minded when it comes to things that I very much want.
It's music like this that just gets me so pumped. It reminds me of all the good I want to do and helps me to see the glass half full. Or whatever the optimist side of that is.
It reminds me of all my goals, like living in Africa. Or becoming a phlebotomist. Or learning Farsi. Or becoming an X-ray technician! Or working at the very place that made all of this happen- Disney World.
