Okay, so my mission papers are finally in. I asked the masses where they think I'll go. So far, the votes are:
France
Temple Square
Taiwan
Mongolia
Boise
Pocatello (please no!)
Toronto, Canada
Albania
Anywhere French speaking...
what are your votes?
Monday, November 16, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Out of my world...
You know those days that life is just... down?
Welcome to my day.
And, to top it all off... I just realized, once again, how NOT upper class I am. Like these two tutors stand here and talk about things, and I can't help but feel slapped in the face with my middle-class status. Sorry, I don't really care about Apple's new store. Sorry, I'm going to stress about paying for my car repairs-- Mommy and daddy don't pay for everything. Sorry, my wardrobe is limited, and I'm too nervous about paying for things to get quarters for laundry.
And in case you didn't catch that-- those were sarcastic sorrys.
Welcome to my day.
And, to top it all off... I just realized, once again, how NOT upper class I am. Like these two tutors stand here and talk about things, and I can't help but feel slapped in the face with my middle-class status. Sorry, I don't really care about Apple's new store. Sorry, I'm going to stress about paying for my car repairs-- Mommy and daddy don't pay for everything. Sorry, my wardrobe is limited, and I'm too nervous about paying for things to get quarters for laundry.
And in case you didn't catch that-- those were sarcastic sorrys.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
To fall crop circles
in the carpet...
I started this with such intention and commitment. Somehow, it flew out the window. I can't recall a single thing I was meaning to write, to tell and express. My high-energy roll must be over. Blast. It's only 11 a.m.
Okay. Well. Nevermind then.
Bugger it all.
I started this with such intention and commitment. Somehow, it flew out the window. I can't recall a single thing I was meaning to write, to tell and express. My high-energy roll must be over. Blast. It's only 11 a.m.
Okay. Well. Nevermind then.
Bugger it all.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Dreaaaaaammmmm
dream dream....
Some psychologists hypothesize that dreams are merely the brains way of putting random thoughts from the day into so coherent order.
Hahahaha. Maybe sometimes. But I don't know about you guys, but my dreams are usually not coherent.
For example:
Last night I dreamt that I had a new mother, and she was trying to find a husband, so she wore every bit of makeup she owned. We went walking with her two small, yappy dogs, prowling for a husband. Next thing I know, I'm at Grandma Carlee's house. Apparently, that's where the ward talent show/ family reuinion was being held. Everyone was on stage, showing us their talent. I was wandering around, just talking. Then, Brandon and Sarah show up. They tell me that there's a totally dismantled laptop on my car's hood. I ask them what I should do about that because my oil light has been spaztically blinking on and off. Brandon lectured me on taking care of the camry, and then I walked over to my car. Apparently, Grandma and Grandpa were storing it for me for the semester under a tree house. I see my car and realize that it's not a real laptop-- someone just drew (with window paint) a laptop on my window. I laugh, try to make sure the door's locked, and then stop-- my doors are ALL unlocked. How long had they been this way??? I get inside the car and try to find out if anything was stolen. Only two things: my phone's battery and SIM card. Yup. I then spent the rest of the dream trying to figure out why someone would just take my SIM card and battery.
OH WAIT, that wasn't all. While I was pondering this befuddling puzzel, Sarah and Brandon did their talent: it was a blindfolded pole/sexy dance. Though, there were no poles, and it wasn't all that sexy. And Sarah looked like my horrible roommate (trust me Sarah, that's not my unconcious saying I want her over you-- you're wayyyyy better than her. And cuter).
Then I woke up.
You call that coherent?
Some psychologists hypothesize that dreams are merely the brains way of putting random thoughts from the day into so coherent order.
Hahahaha. Maybe sometimes. But I don't know about you guys, but my dreams are usually not coherent.
For example:
Last night I dreamt that I had a new mother, and she was trying to find a husband, so she wore every bit of makeup she owned. We went walking with her two small, yappy dogs, prowling for a husband. Next thing I know, I'm at Grandma Carlee's house. Apparently, that's where the ward talent show/ family reuinion was being held. Everyone was on stage, showing us their talent. I was wandering around, just talking. Then, Brandon and Sarah show up. They tell me that there's a totally dismantled laptop on my car's hood. I ask them what I should do about that because my oil light has been spaztically blinking on and off. Brandon lectured me on taking care of the camry, and then I walked over to my car. Apparently, Grandma and Grandpa were storing it for me for the semester under a tree house. I see my car and realize that it's not a real laptop-- someone just drew (with window paint) a laptop on my window. I laugh, try to make sure the door's locked, and then stop-- my doors are ALL unlocked. How long had they been this way??? I get inside the car and try to find out if anything was stolen. Only two things: my phone's battery and SIM card. Yup. I then spent the rest of the dream trying to figure out why someone would just take my SIM card and battery.
OH WAIT, that wasn't all. While I was pondering this befuddling puzzel, Sarah and Brandon did their talent: it was a blindfolded pole/sexy dance. Though, there were no poles, and it wasn't all that sexy. And Sarah looked like my horrible roommate (trust me Sarah, that's not my unconcious saying I want her over you-- you're wayyyyy better than her. And cuter).
Then I woke up.
You call that coherent?
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Tender mercies
So, these kinds of things don't happen to me very often. But this is a story I just have to share.
As you all know, I'm working on my application to go on a mission. My Bishop informed me that all of my financial debt must be taken care of before I can go on a mission. When he told me, I remembered my debt to the school. Because I've been going to college for four semesters without a break, I've taken to charging my textbooks to my student account. Let me tell you, those things add up FAST and HIGH. Slowly, but surely, I've been picking away at that debt. But slowly is the operative word here. Every time I get a check, I think "How much am I going to eat until the next paycheck?", trying to put as much towards my debt as possible.
I never stopped preparing for a mission, however. I just pushed forward, paid my tithing, and hoped that I would somehow make enough to pay it all by December-- yes December. You can't have debt to the school and receive your diploma.
The Financial Aide office has been emailing me for a week. I avoided the emails, certain the "meeting" they wanted to arrange would turn into some "pay your debts to the school!" Auschwitz experience. Finally, I realized I couldn't avoid it any longer. I set up an appointment with a Brother Deming, and prepared myself for the worst.
I showed up early, wanting to make a good impression. I was called into his office and we chatted for about fifteen minutes. The thought "just tell me to pay up so I can go home" ran through my head several times. After practically telling this man my whole life story, he gets to the point.
"I called you in here to tell you that you've been offered a scholarship," he told me.
It started with laughter of disbelief, a few questions of "really? really?" And then I cried. I sobbed. I just couldn't believe this!! I've never applied for a scholarship, and now I'm being OFFERED one? Brother Deming handed me a box of tissues and smiled at me, declaring "this must be a relief."
I said, "yes, because..." and started crying again. It was pretty comical I assume, but all I felt was an immense relief I'd never experienced before in my life.
Brother Deming explained that the scholarship was for half tuiton, which is $800. He asked if I'd already paid all my tuition. I said that no I hadn't, but I only had $500 left, so could I put the extra towards my debt to the bookstore. He said I could use it for whatever, but asked, "How much debt do you have to the school?" I told him the amount, and then the most amazing thing happened. "I'll adjust it so that it covers everything."
What???? Is he SERIOUS?
Apparently. Because now my financial aide statement tells me that I have a $1600 scholarship (which is more than Bro Deming had said) available as soon as I turn in my thank-you letter.
I cried some more and asked, "how? How did I get selected for this."
He smiled and explained that once the funds are in from donors, the school decides who the money goes to."It pretty much comes down to following the spirit." My crying started all over again. "Kacey, I guess this goes to show that the Lord is very aware of you. He knows you are trying to follow His plan and He's trying to help you out."
As soon as Bro Deming said that, I knew that's EXACTLY what this meant. Because NO ONE knows how badly I needed that money. I never told my bishop, and hardly let some roommates know. Tori was a bit aware, but even then I tried to keep it under wraps. No one knew but my parents and the Lord, and there's no way my parents did this. It must be Heavenly Father.
Because of this, I'll be able to go on a mission in January, graduate in December, and survive this semester. And there's no way for me to even begin to express my sincere gratitude and awe at this whole situation.
So there. My miracle.
As you all know, I'm working on my application to go on a mission. My Bishop informed me that all of my financial debt must be taken care of before I can go on a mission. When he told me, I remembered my debt to the school. Because I've been going to college for four semesters without a break, I've taken to charging my textbooks to my student account. Let me tell you, those things add up FAST and HIGH. Slowly, but surely, I've been picking away at that debt. But slowly is the operative word here. Every time I get a check, I think "How much am I going to eat until the next paycheck?", trying to put as much towards my debt as possible.
I never stopped preparing for a mission, however. I just pushed forward, paid my tithing, and hoped that I would somehow make enough to pay it all by December-- yes December. You can't have debt to the school and receive your diploma.
The Financial Aide office has been emailing me for a week. I avoided the emails, certain the "meeting" they wanted to arrange would turn into some "pay your debts to the school!" Auschwitz experience. Finally, I realized I couldn't avoid it any longer. I set up an appointment with a Brother Deming, and prepared myself for the worst.
I showed up early, wanting to make a good impression. I was called into his office and we chatted for about fifteen minutes. The thought "just tell me to pay up so I can go home" ran through my head several times. After practically telling this man my whole life story, he gets to the point.
"I called you in here to tell you that you've been offered a scholarship," he told me.
It started with laughter of disbelief, a few questions of "really? really?" And then I cried. I sobbed. I just couldn't believe this!! I've never applied for a scholarship, and now I'm being OFFERED one? Brother Deming handed me a box of tissues and smiled at me, declaring "this must be a relief."
I said, "yes, because..." and started crying again. It was pretty comical I assume, but all I felt was an immense relief I'd never experienced before in my life.
Brother Deming explained that the scholarship was for half tuiton, which is $800. He asked if I'd already paid all my tuition. I said that no I hadn't, but I only had $500 left, so could I put the extra towards my debt to the bookstore. He said I could use it for whatever, but asked, "How much debt do you have to the school?" I told him the amount, and then the most amazing thing happened. "I'll adjust it so that it covers everything."
What???? Is he SERIOUS?
Apparently. Because now my financial aide statement tells me that I have a $1600 scholarship (which is more than Bro Deming had said) available as soon as I turn in my thank-you letter.
I cried some more and asked, "how? How did I get selected for this."
He smiled and explained that once the funds are in from donors, the school decides who the money goes to."It pretty much comes down to following the spirit." My crying started all over again. "Kacey, I guess this goes to show that the Lord is very aware of you. He knows you are trying to follow His plan and He's trying to help you out."
As soon as Bro Deming said that, I knew that's EXACTLY what this meant. Because NO ONE knows how badly I needed that money. I never told my bishop, and hardly let some roommates know. Tori was a bit aware, but even then I tried to keep it under wraps. No one knew but my parents and the Lord, and there's no way my parents did this. It must be Heavenly Father.
Because of this, I'll be able to go on a mission in January, graduate in December, and survive this semester. And there's no way for me to even begin to express my sincere gratitude and awe at this whole situation.
So there. My miracle.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Allyn
It never really got dark out here when the moon was full. The bright beams floated down and shot off the glassy surface of the pond, illuminating the grounds of the manor. Allyn preferred this type of light. The sun was often too bright for her eyes and skin, blinding her and burning patterns of freckles all over her arms and face. Even though she lived in the heart of California, her skin beneath the many freckles dotted about was a milky white. Norwegians had nothing on the alabastor shade of her legs. She hated the color. It made her sick, reminding her constantly of how he used to love it.
Allyn planted her hands on the damp grass and pushed herself up from a slouch, long blades pushed between her relaxed fingers and made tiny cuts on her skin. She didn't even notice the mildly irritating stings; they were nothing compared to her babies' venom. Even that didn't bother her: she possessed an immunity to them.
Speaking of her babies, she felt the familiar touch of the six legs crawling on her. The honey-girls were safe fliers and never took off in the dark. Instead, they crawled around the hive. Once in a while a young, inexperienced honey-girl wouldn''t make it back to the hive in time. Maybe she'd found a patch of flowers far away and got distracted. Or perhaps she didn't catch the whole dance her sister preformed for her and got lost. Whatever the reason, she was now crawling on the back of Allyn's hand. As soon as she felt the honey-girl's tired abdomen dragging on her flesh, she lifted her hand to eye level.
"Where do you belong, girlie?" she asked with a tenderness that hardly anyone ever whitnessed. She tilted her hand so that the moon's glittery reflection could shine on the girl just right. Three colored dots appeared as if by magic and Allyn knew exactly where she bel0nged.
"You're a long way off, babe." The softly spoken words mirrored the woman's feeling for the insect. Carefully, without using the hand where the barbed visitor perched, she rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the remote white box. It was one of the newer hive boxes, sitting on the edge of the orange grove that took up 12 acres of the property. It was a quiet and calm walk, taking 10 whole minutes to make the 40 yard treck. As soon as she reached the white hive, she lowered her hand onto its warm surface. The honey-girl crawled quickly off her hand and into her home. Allyn smiled, thinking of the one bee she knew lived on.
Allyn planted her hands on the damp grass and pushed herself up from a slouch, long blades pushed between her relaxed fingers and made tiny cuts on her skin. She didn't even notice the mildly irritating stings; they were nothing compared to her babies' venom. Even that didn't bother her: she possessed an immunity to them.
Speaking of her babies, she felt the familiar touch of the six legs crawling on her. The honey-girls were safe fliers and never took off in the dark. Instead, they crawled around the hive. Once in a while a young, inexperienced honey-girl wouldn''t make it back to the hive in time. Maybe she'd found a patch of flowers far away and got distracted. Or perhaps she didn't catch the whole dance her sister preformed for her and got lost. Whatever the reason, she was now crawling on the back of Allyn's hand. As soon as she felt the honey-girl's tired abdomen dragging on her flesh, she lifted her hand to eye level.
"Where do you belong, girlie?" she asked with a tenderness that hardly anyone ever whitnessed. She tilted her hand so that the moon's glittery reflection could shine on the girl just right. Three colored dots appeared as if by magic and Allyn knew exactly where she bel0nged.
"You're a long way off, babe." The softly spoken words mirrored the woman's feeling for the insect. Carefully, without using the hand where the barbed visitor perched, she rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the remote white box. It was one of the newer hive boxes, sitting on the edge of the orange grove that took up 12 acres of the property. It was a quiet and calm walk, taking 10 whole minutes to make the 40 yard treck. As soon as she reached the white hive, she lowered her hand onto its warm surface. The honey-girl crawled quickly off her hand and into her home. Allyn smiled, thinking of the one bee she knew lived on.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
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