C'est vrais. J'ai finis.
Now... what?
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Friday, December 18th
Only five days left of undergraduate work, and I still avoid studying by being on blogspot. Funny.
Yup, you heard me. I graduate in five days. Friday I bought a blouse for Graduation. Yesterday I got the nerve to try on my cute little black cap. And today? It's my last sculpture class for who knows how long. EEEK!! I'm going to miss that three hour afternoon class. Okay, not the three hours in the afternoon part. But I'll miss the rest. Not Brother Geddes' horrific and constant teasing and challenging everything I say until I cry. But I'll miss the clay. I'll miss my chance to vent my stale emotions through a medium that doesn't hurt anyone.
I'm already half packed. In fact, all I have left to pack is kitchen and bathroom stuff. One thing I won't miss? Rexburg housing. Honestly. I'm sick of how all this student housing is run. It's like a nazi prison camp without all the privacy a prison camp affords you.
Five more days.
The only class I worry about is my Cognition class. I have to get an 80% on my final to get a C. All I need is a C- to graduate. I'll get at least an 80%, no problem. I find all my cognition tests to be easy, if I put a little study time in. Speaking of which....
Okay. Fine. I'll study.
Gag.
PS- I dreamt that the Govenator was my body guard, but he failed and this psycho-killer was coming to get me and my child (I don't have a child, in case you were wondering). My interpretation: The idea of California will not protect me from my psycho finals. I need to study.
And get less sleep, apparently.
Yup, you heard me. I graduate in five days. Friday I bought a blouse for Graduation. Yesterday I got the nerve to try on my cute little black cap. And today? It's my last sculpture class for who knows how long. EEEK!! I'm going to miss that three hour afternoon class. Okay, not the three hours in the afternoon part. But I'll miss the rest. Not Brother Geddes' horrific and constant teasing and challenging everything I say until I cry. But I'll miss the clay. I'll miss my chance to vent my stale emotions through a medium that doesn't hurt anyone.
I'm already half packed. In fact, all I have left to pack is kitchen and bathroom stuff. One thing I won't miss? Rexburg housing. Honestly. I'm sick of how all this student housing is run. It's like a nazi prison camp without all the privacy a prison camp affords you.
Five more days.
The only class I worry about is my Cognition class. I have to get an 80% on my final to get a C. All I need is a C- to graduate. I'll get at least an 80%, no problem. I find all my cognition tests to be easy, if I put a little study time in. Speaking of which....
Okay. Fine. I'll study.
Gag.
PS- I dreamt that the Govenator was my body guard, but he failed and this psycho-killer was coming to get me and my child (I don't have a child, in case you were wondering). My interpretation: The idea of California will not protect me from my psycho finals. I need to study.
And get less sleep, apparently.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Don't let your roommates give you plastic surgery...
I mean it. Don't. How does this topic come up? As most of my off the wall posts do-- I had a dream.
First off, I'm tired of Evil Kacey dreams.
Just want to put that out there.
Secondly, I was up here in Rexburg in my dream. I saw stitches on my hairline. Huh. What's that all about? Apparently I let my old roommate give me a face lift. Well, it didn't turn out all that bad, though I must admit the thought of a face lift ne'er crossed my mind. Then I noticed something else was wrong. My middle toe on my right foot was broken. And my knee couldn't bend very well. And something was wrong with my hip, I don't remember what. It turns out, I let my old roommate give me a leg lift too. Now, I never thought I'd get a leg lift (which is just like a face lift on your leg. Sounds pretty pointless to me too), but I certainly felt the urge last night. My roommate, however, hadn't done one o those before and pulled the skin too tight, and so my foot falanges couldn't fit in my skin. I had a dislocated toe. And here's the worst part: I couldn't stop messing with it. I kept poking my dislocated falange, and Carolyn, the amazing surgeon, said she would fix it for me.
Oh. Great.
I laid on the picnic table (we were at a public park) and waited for her to give me anesthetic. I realized when she approached me with a scalpel that she wasn't going to give me one.
Holy. Crap.
Anyway, I woke up to the sound of Ron White's irritatingly gravelly voice (forgot that CD was in my alarm clock) and was saved from certain plastic surgery death.
The end.
PS- Satan is a bus driver.
First off, I'm tired of Evil Kacey dreams.
Just want to put that out there.
Secondly, I was up here in Rexburg in my dream. I saw stitches on my hairline. Huh. What's that all about? Apparently I let my old roommate give me a face lift. Well, it didn't turn out all that bad, though I must admit the thought of a face lift ne'er crossed my mind. Then I noticed something else was wrong. My middle toe on my right foot was broken. And my knee couldn't bend very well. And something was wrong with my hip, I don't remember what. It turns out, I let my old roommate give me a leg lift too. Now, I never thought I'd get a leg lift (which is just like a face lift on your leg. Sounds pretty pointless to me too), but I certainly felt the urge last night. My roommate, however, hadn't done one o those before and pulled the skin too tight, and so my foot falanges couldn't fit in my skin. I had a dislocated toe. And here's the worst part: I couldn't stop messing with it. I kept poking my dislocated falange, and Carolyn, the amazing surgeon, said she would fix it for me.
Oh. Great.
I laid on the picnic table (we were at a public park) and waited for her to give me anesthetic. I realized when she approached me with a scalpel that she wasn't going to give me one.
Holy. Crap.
Anyway, I woke up to the sound of Ron White's irritatingly gravelly voice (forgot that CD was in my alarm clock) and was saved from certain plastic surgery death.
The end.
PS- Satan is a bus driver.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Funny how that works...
Last week was terrible. Beyond terrible. First thing was my rant: that rant exemplifies how my friend has been treatin me, and this week I finally got sick of it. I ended up limiting our major contact, and say hi occasionally to him at work. That's all. As hard as it has been, I've noticed a major boost in my self image and confidence. So: good thing. But also hard. Becuase we see each other everywhere. And I don't think he's caught up to the fact that I've massively cut him out of my life. Yup, that's how close we were.
Secondly: My mission papers got sent in. Again. Here's what happened: my stake president and my bishop are not exactly on the same page, which led to my medical forms being lost for three weeks. Yup. All this time I was waiting for my mission call... and now it's going to come after Christmas to California. Which is fine, really. But what a HUGE shock!! That was a crappy day. To top it all off, that same night was my very close friends' engagement party at Craigos. Guess who our mutual friend is? yup. Him. I made Tori come as my date so I would have someone to talk to.
But yesterday during fast and testimony meeting, an inumerous amount of people told the congregation how terrible their week was. After scoffing at the first five, I finally smiled to myself.
Sure, my week was bad. But that doesn't make me anydifferent or any less tried than all those people.
My conclusion was to get off my high-horse and move on.
Updates on how that goes later.
Secondly: My mission papers got sent in. Again. Here's what happened: my stake president and my bishop are not exactly on the same page, which led to my medical forms being lost for three weeks. Yup. All this time I was waiting for my mission call... and now it's going to come after Christmas to California. Which is fine, really. But what a HUGE shock!! That was a crappy day. To top it all off, that same night was my very close friends' engagement party at Craigos. Guess who our mutual friend is? yup. Him. I made Tori come as my date so I would have someone to talk to.
But yesterday during fast and testimony meeting, an inumerous amount of people told the congregation how terrible their week was. After scoffing at the first five, I finally smiled to myself.
Sure, my week was bad. But that doesn't make me anydifferent or any less tried than all those people.
My conclusion was to get off my high-horse and move on.
Updates on how that goes later.
Monday, November 30, 2009
20 pounds and inumerous euphemisms later...
Okay. Here's the deal:
I am soooooo sick of people finding "nice" ways of saying I'm fat.
For those of you who haven't seen me since this summer (or earlier) I've gained about 20 lbs since, ehhh June? I can't remember. But I've been "I HAVE TO GRADUATE" girl all semester which has limited my active routines and increased my study snack food. Some days I hate how I look (who doesn't) but most days I'm like, "eh. I'm still hot."
But the other day, a good guy friend of mine used one of my least favorite fat euphemisms: larger. Larger? Honestly? Larger than what? A pinky toe? Size zero? What an ambiguous way to try and avoid offense! Well, I decided to forgive him and move on. HA HA! TONIGHT he used it SEVERAL times to describe me and others. I kinda flipped (thank goodness we were texting and he didn't see the look of murder on my face). And this is why I'm up at 1:45 a.m. (and to study. dangit.) posting a blog about being fat.
I KNOW I'M FAT!! I am SOOOOO aware of all the connotations that come with my weight!!!! I'm not stupid, and I'm not ugly either (I think that's a plus. Thanks to good genes for my decently cute face!). If you think by pretending (poorly) that I'm skinny you'll make me feel better, you won't. Maybe some people like it. But I don't. Why?
BECAUSE I THINK I'M STILL HOT, 20 POUNDS OR NOT. So, what I'm saying is SO WHAT IF I'M FAT?????
Why can't people compliment something else about me? Why can't they say "gosh, your eyes are so pretty," or "you dress so well." Why not? Why not reinforce good feelings about myself by being honest with me? I don't know about other fat people, but it really gets my goat when people try to convince me that I'm "just a little bigger than skinny" or, heaven forbid "larger."
Case in point: I have a roommate who I think honestly tries to be nice. Honestly. She just doesn't know how. So Tori and I were doing our hair in the vanity area, and Tori said something about being fat. Well, I am, and proud of it! Tori and I both think we're freaking sex goddesses, so there. But my poor, ignorant roommate says "You're not fat!"
Well, sorry but yes I am.
And why is that a bad thing?
I have better blood pressure than my ridiculously skinny aunt. Huh, even in the "dangerously" obese BMI range?
So, uh, fat doesn't necessarily mean unhealthy?? NEWSFLASH!!!!!
Anyway. That's my rant.
Sorry if I offended anyone, but these thoughts were keeping me awake. I'm sure later today I'll have a follow up based on the very same conversation with my guy friend on how unattractive and/or fat girls get the bloody short end of the stick on dating. Oh for criminy sakes...
Okay, I'm done for reals this time.
I am soooooo sick of people finding "nice" ways of saying I'm fat.
For those of you who haven't seen me since this summer (or earlier) I've gained about 20 lbs since, ehhh June? I can't remember. But I've been "I HAVE TO GRADUATE" girl all semester which has limited my active routines and increased my study snack food. Some days I hate how I look (who doesn't) but most days I'm like, "eh. I'm still hot."
But the other day, a good guy friend of mine used one of my least favorite fat euphemisms: larger. Larger? Honestly? Larger than what? A pinky toe? Size zero? What an ambiguous way to try and avoid offense! Well, I decided to forgive him and move on. HA HA! TONIGHT he used it SEVERAL times to describe me and others. I kinda flipped (thank goodness we were texting and he didn't see the look of murder on my face). And this is why I'm up at 1:45 a.m. (and to study. dangit.) posting a blog about being fat.
I KNOW I'M FAT!! I am SOOOOO aware of all the connotations that come with my weight!!!! I'm not stupid, and I'm not ugly either (I think that's a plus. Thanks to good genes for my decently cute face!). If you think by pretending (poorly) that I'm skinny you'll make me feel better, you won't. Maybe some people like it. But I don't. Why?
BECAUSE I THINK I'M STILL HOT, 20 POUNDS OR NOT. So, what I'm saying is SO WHAT IF I'M FAT?????
Why can't people compliment something else about me? Why can't they say "gosh, your eyes are so pretty," or "you dress so well." Why not? Why not reinforce good feelings about myself by being honest with me? I don't know about other fat people, but it really gets my goat when people try to convince me that I'm "just a little bigger than skinny" or, heaven forbid "larger."
Case in point: I have a roommate who I think honestly tries to be nice. Honestly. She just doesn't know how. So Tori and I were doing our hair in the vanity area, and Tori said something about being fat. Well, I am, and proud of it! Tori and I both think we're freaking sex goddesses, so there. But my poor, ignorant roommate says "You're not fat!"
Well, sorry but yes I am.
And why is that a bad thing?
I have better blood pressure than my ridiculously skinny aunt. Huh, even in the "dangerously" obese BMI range?
So, uh, fat doesn't necessarily mean unhealthy?? NEWSFLASH!!!!!
Anyway. That's my rant.
Sorry if I offended anyone, but these thoughts were keeping me awake. I'm sure later today I'll have a follow up based on the very same conversation with my guy friend on how unattractive and/or fat girls get the bloody short end of the stick on dating. Oh for criminy sakes...
Okay, I'm done for reals this time.
Monday, November 16, 2009
And the votes are...
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?
France
Temple Square
Taiwan
Mongolia
Boise
Pocatello (please no!)
Toronto, Canada
Albania
Anywhere French speaking...
what are your votes?
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.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Used textbooks and philosophical penses
One thing I love about buying used textbooks is that it gives me a chance to get to know someone on a secret level. I feel like they left all these clues to who they are without even realizing it. Like Melissa.
Melissa is the previous owner of my Abnormal Psychology book. Melissa obviously started out with serious ambition: she marked, highlighted and wrote notes in every margin space available. In fact, it was so bleeding efficient that it bothered me: where was I going to write my notes? Gosh, I guess I have to use paper like the rest of the world. Melissa lost ambition fast
Melissa is the previous owner of my Abnormal Psychology book. Melissa obviously started out with serious ambition: she marked, highlighted and wrote notes in every margin space available. In fact, it was so bleeding efficient that it bothered me: where was I going to write my notes? Gosh, I guess I have to use paper like the rest of the world. Melissa lost ambition fast
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
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Hall
I've not written in third person in a very very very long time. This is my first attempt in a long while, so tell me if there are parts that get awkward.
This is, as of right now, the introductory chapter of my newest story.
Enjoy! (hopefully)
This is, as of right now, the introductory chapter of my newest story.
Enjoy! (hopefully)
Hall stared at the pile of unopened envelopes. For weeks he'd avoided opening them, shoving each one in a different crevice. The large comfy-chair, sitting solitary in the middle of his two room apartment, hid at least 5 under the cushion. He didn't have to read them to know what they said; his electricity got shut off a week earlier, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything besides Ramen. His cell phone would stop working any day now, but Hall would deal with that when it happened.
His steps echoed depressingly in the apartment, emphasizing the emptiness of his home. Hall's father tried to call every day, but that annoyance was easily resolved with the "reject call" button. Gosh, he loved that button. Maybe he'll make a six foot sculpture of it. Probably not, though. He couldn't afford the clay for a six foot sculpture. heck, for any sculpture.
This is what it feels like to be a starving artist, he thought to himself. Really and truly. Hall knew he was supposed to feel something akin to self-actualization, but the only thing he noticed was the ever constant gnawing in his stomach. Was it his actual hunger or not knowing how he was going to survive that bothered him more?
Hall walked over to the chair and plopped into the seat. Creaks and moans escaped from under its dusty springs as his body settled in.
"For criminy sakes," he muttered at the poor thing. Hall started in on his familiar routine of wallowing in self-pity. It was a nightly ritual, developing only in the past few weeks. The rationale behind it said something about "brooding is good for the art," but we all know that that's just as bad as "the dog ate my homework."
A steady vibrating under his seat interrupted Hall's thoughts. It was the phone. Reaching down into the chair, he pulled it into view. The number blinked steadily on the front screen as Hall stared, trying to figured out who could possibly be on the other side. the area code meant nothing to him, unfamiliar in all aspects. Finally, the suspense grew too high and he flipped open the phone.
"Holland Pierce speaking." He used his professional voice in case the caller was a potential patron.
"Is this the sculpture, Holland Pierce?" a scratchy female voice, probably belonging to an elderly woman, asked.
Hall hesitated.
"Yes..." he replied. "May I ask who's calling?"
"This is Virginia Black, and I have a proposition for you."
As Hall listened to Virginia, his shoulders relaxed from their constant stressful hunch. He couldn't hide a smile as the conversation progressed.
It may not be tomorrow, he mused, but the sun is definitely coming out.
Monday, October 12, 2009
quelq'une qui m'a dit
So Heavenly Father really REALLY wants me to appreciate going on a mission. Here's how my mission paper process has been going:
It really started the first Sunday of school. I cornered my bishop that first day at church. His response was "Talk to me next Tuesday and we'll set up an appointment."
Okay. Cool.
Next Tuesday, I corner him again and he says, "Why don't we meet a week from today?"
Okay. Cool.
I show up a week from then. Everyone and their Aunt Suzy showed up, so I had to wait in another line. Finally, I get in and have a chat with my Obispo. We talk, and he says, "I'd really like to call your previous Bishop and make sure you are as worthy as you say you are."
Okay. I get that. I know people in Fresno who move from ward to ward to try and escape their unworthiness. And I knew my old bishop would have nothing bad to say.
"When will we meet next, Bishop?"
"October 11."
Nearly 3 weeks.
Okay. Cool.
Yesterday, we meet, I get interviewed, and my bishop gives me the green light, but says, before I start celebrating, that he has to get Stake President approval before he can open my papers. That surprised me. "Why?" I asked. He explained that President McGary is a little gun shy when it comes to sending missionaries out, so he requires that all the bishops in the stake get his approval before starting papers. "You'll probably be fine," he says. "But I'm not going to lie-- President McGary surprises me sometimes; especially when it comes to mission papers."
So, Bishop Hancock has given me the green light, and IF he gets approval, I'll have my papers opened by Sunday.
FINALLY!!
So yes, I'll truly appreciate going on a mission.
Hehehe.
It really started the first Sunday of school. I cornered my bishop that first day at church. His response was "Talk to me next Tuesday and we'll set up an appointment."
Okay. Cool.
Next Tuesday, I corner him again and he says, "Why don't we meet a week from today?"
Okay. Cool.
I show up a week from then. Everyone and their Aunt Suzy showed up, so I had to wait in another line. Finally, I get in and have a chat with my Obispo. We talk, and he says, "I'd really like to call your previous Bishop and make sure you are as worthy as you say you are."
Okay. I get that. I know people in Fresno who move from ward to ward to try and escape their unworthiness. And I knew my old bishop would have nothing bad to say.
"When will we meet next, Bishop?"
"October 11."
Nearly 3 weeks.
Okay. Cool.
Yesterday, we meet, I get interviewed, and my bishop gives me the green light, but says, before I start celebrating, that he has to get Stake President approval before he can open my papers. That surprised me. "Why?" I asked. He explained that President McGary is a little gun shy when it comes to sending missionaries out, so he requires that all the bishops in the stake get his approval before starting papers. "You'll probably be fine," he says. "But I'm not going to lie-- President McGary surprises me sometimes; especially when it comes to mission papers."
So, Bishop Hancock has given me the green light, and IF he gets approval, I'll have my papers opened by Sunday.
FINALLY!!
So yes, I'll truly appreciate going on a mission.
Hehehe.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I like to eat eat eat...
especially on fast sundays!!!
First off: my church starts at 1:30 this semester. Kill. Me. Now. Today was a hard day to fast.
Secondly: mom, I found a website where we could buy some "press button, receive bacon" stuff. We should look into it.
Thirdly: It's not a new boy I was talking about. It's an old one. A guy friend of mine that I went on a few dates with. Well we started chatting it up again, but he's off track and back in CA. I figure the only reason he keeps popping into my head is because I'm starting to fill out my mission application this semester.
How's everyone doing today??
I've noticed people getting very offended over small things lately. It makes me quite sad. So many people leaving the gospel because things just don't go their way. Well, sorry. My life never goes the way I plan it, and I'm still in the church.
Maybe that's a little harsh. I think I needed to vent that feeling though.
I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I'm tired and overstuffed and should really head off to bed. Hm. Maybe I will.
Here's a little prezzie for you all!
Love, Kacey
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
For the man who looks good in a tree piece suit...
This post actually has nothing to do with said man, but he's been on my mind, so it's dedicated to him.
Ah. Life. It's been kind of hectic lately with homework, a job, and trying to socialize even a little bit. Thanks to e-mails and cell phones I'm still talking to some friends, so that's nice. However, while reading Dustin's HILARIOUS "365 stupidest things ever said" calandar, I thought of a cheery little post I could write. The following are little things that cheer me up when I'm down or too busy to laugh. Enjoy!
"Smith, head of pubic relations..."
--Madera Tribune
"I feel my best when I'm happy."
--Winona Rider
--the web address for "mole station nursery". Honest.
Tech Guy: How fast does your modem go?
Customer: It's not going anywhere, it's just sitting here!
--actual call to customer service
"Have the kids shot for Dad from $24.95"
--actual ad in a newspaper
And here are some of my favorite signs:
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Because I already took the class...
I have been feeling somewhat guilty about my lack of blogging lately. Just been busy doing nothing, I guess. But I do have some funny things to share.
First off: School. I had a bit of a situation with a grade this summer. I checked my transcripts and saw that one of my grades was a D-.
What. The. Heck.
I knew I had gotten a C, and I worked my big fat behind off for that C. I cried a lot, called around, e-mailed everyone I could, and then... waited. Of course, my teacher was on summer break like the rest of us, but I wanted him to get back to me fast!!
Three weeks pass before I hear anything. Four weeks, and I finally get a response. My teacher grades my missing assignment (which went missing because of the computer system, not me), and submits my grade. I check my transcript the week before this semester starts and there it was, for all to see. My hard earned C. SCORE!
SO, what this means is I can graduate this December. YESSSSS!!!!!!
We met my new FHE brothers. I can sum the experience up in one word: Ridiculous. Four of them are RM's with bad attitudes, and two are the uberest superest youngest pre-premies I've ever met. Honest. And one is what I like to call "Mentally Disturbed." But, perhaps he's actually brilliant. Here's an example of his brilliance, as I am not in the mood to complain thoroughly about him right now. Okay, so example:
One of the boys was talking about how he is a physics major. My roommate asked "What are you going to do with that?" and he responds "I'd like to be a research scientist." Mentally Disturbed jumps in, as is his trademark I've noticed, and says "What, like curing cancer??"
Okay, so I don't know about you, but there really isn't a huge connection in my mind between physics and curing cancer. Tori didn't get it either, and her response was, "Well, I think you'd find a cure for gravity in physics." I told my mom the story, giggling the whole time, and she burst my bubble. What she said can be summed down to:
"What do you think Chemo-therapy is? It's physics!"
Well now I feel like a bit of a jerk.
But not really.
I'm off to my class right now, so I'll hopefully update more later!!!
Tootles!
First off: School. I had a bit of a situation with a grade this summer. I checked my transcripts and saw that one of my grades was a D-.
What. The. Heck.
I knew I had gotten a C, and I worked my big fat behind off for that C. I cried a lot, called around, e-mailed everyone I could, and then... waited. Of course, my teacher was on summer break like the rest of us, but I wanted him to get back to me fast!!
Three weeks pass before I hear anything. Four weeks, and I finally get a response. My teacher grades my missing assignment (which went missing because of the computer system, not me), and submits my grade. I check my transcript the week before this semester starts and there it was, for all to see. My hard earned C. SCORE!
SO, what this means is I can graduate this December. YESSSSS!!!!!!
We met my new FHE brothers. I can sum the experience up in one word: Ridiculous. Four of them are RM's with bad attitudes, and two are the uberest superest youngest pre-premies I've ever met. Honest. And one is what I like to call "Mentally Disturbed." But, perhaps he's actually brilliant. Here's an example of his brilliance, as I am not in the mood to complain thoroughly about him right now. Okay, so example:
One of the boys was talking about how he is a physics major. My roommate asked "What are you going to do with that?" and he responds "I'd like to be a research scientist." Mentally Disturbed jumps in, as is his trademark I've noticed, and says "What, like curing cancer??"
Okay, so I don't know about you, but there really isn't a huge connection in my mind between physics and curing cancer. Tori didn't get it either, and her response was, "Well, I think you'd find a cure for gravity in physics." I told my mom the story, giggling the whole time, and she burst my bubble. What she said can be summed down to:
"What do you think Chemo-therapy is? It's physics!"
Well now I feel like a bit of a jerk.
But not really.
I'm off to my class right now, so I'll hopefully update more later!!!
Tootles!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Talk Talk!!!
I gave my very first talk in a university ward today! Since none of my family ever gets to see me give talks, I decided to put it on here.
Immediately following World War II, the Church had a drive to amass warm clothing to ship to suffering Saints in Europe. Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and Elder Marion G. Romney (1897–1988), an Assistant to the Twelve, took President George Albert Smith to Welfare Square in Salt Lake City to view the results. They were impressed by the generous response of the membership of the Church. They watched President Smith observing the workers as they packaged this great volume of donated clothing and shoes. They saw tears running down his face. After a few moments, President Smith removed his own new overcoat and said, “Please ship this also.”
The Brethren said to him, “No, President, no; don’t send that; it’s cold and you need your coat.”
But President Smith would not take it back; and so his coat, with all the others, was sent to Europe, where the nights were long and dark and food and clothing were scarce. Then the shipments arrived. Joy and thanksgiving were expressed aloud, as well as in secret prayer.
In Mathew 22:35-40, we read:
35 Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, atempting him, and saying,
36 Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt alove the Lord thy God with all thy bheart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy cmind.
38 This is the first and great acommandment.
39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt alove thy neighbour as thyself.
40 On these two commandments hang all the alaw and the prophets.
There. Right there… Christ told us what our entire religion and gospel is based off of: Love. Love for God, and love for our fellow men, for as we love our neighbors, we are showing our love for our Heavenly Father.
Love is a popular topic in this world. It’s the subject for songs, poems, books, movies, shows. Love is what drives us, keeps us going in this world. Sadly, the love the world portrays is not always real love. And I don’t mean chastity-wise: I mean the way humans treat other humans.
When I decided on this topic, I tried to think of ways that I’ve been shown love in my life. Immediately my family came to mind: they love me even though I’m the most annoying child in the family, and give them all many reasons to try and murder me in my sleep. Thankfully, charity has filled their hearts and I’m still alive today.
Other ways that I have been shown love were through notes of encouragement left by Relief Society members; roommates listening to me cry about the same thing week after week; my sister writing me letters from the mission field; my roommate telling me that she really and truly hopes that we’re friends as old ladies and play with each other’s grandkids; and my brother, who isn’t a touching type of person, giving me a hug when I was frustrated at a band competition.
How do we show love? When true love fills our hearts, we can’t keep to ourselves. Joseph Smith said, “Love is one of the chief characteristics of Deity, and ought to be manifested by those who aspire to be the sons of God. A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”
Well, that makes sense. Aren’t we kinder and more empathetic to others when we’re in good moods? When we feel loved? I know I am. I wake up really perky and kind of loud in the mornings. I’ll see my half-awake roommates and smile at them and say “Good Morning SUNSHINE!” Thank goodness my roommates have charity and smile back at me through their groggy haze. One time after my ritual morning greetings, my roommate told me “I’m so glad we’re roommates. My mornings wouldn’t be half as uplifting without you.” I walked on air that day. I saw people that annoyed me, but I was kind to them, with kindness in my heart. I felt love that morning, and tried to share it the entire day.
Elder Wirthlin said:
“Love is the beginning, the middle, and the end of the pathway of discipleship. It comforts, counsels, cures, and consoles. It leads us through valleys of darkness and through the veil of death. In the end love leads us to the glory and grandeur of eternal life.”
I’d like to jump streams here and move to our Heavenly Father’s love for us. “It is wonderful to know that our Heavenly Father loves us—even with all our flaws! His love is such that even should we give up on ourselves, He never will.”
He never will.
I am taking FA 100 this semester, and have been not-so-silently cursing the course all semester. I chose the BFA senior show for my art exhibit option, and I saw something there that gave me a glimpse of my Heavenly Father. There was a photography exhibit called “Time.” In these photos, the artist took pictures of one thing at multiple times and photo-shopped them together into one picture. There was a river, the sky, a flower. When I saw these photos, I realized that this is the view that Heavenly Father has. Even when we wilt like that rose in the photo did, he sees us when we’re blooming. Even in the winter of our lives, he sees our summers. Heavenly Father sees us in terms of forever. He sees us as the glorious beings we are capable of becoming.
Elder Wirthlin asked us: Do you love the Lord? He then instructs us to spend time with Him. Serve Him, meditate upon His scriptures. Feed His sheep.
I had the opportunity to go to the temple yesterday morning, and while in the chapel, I made a list of ways that Heavenly Father shows us His love. I came up with:
He gives us prophets
He gives us commandments
He chastens us
He sent His son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to atone for us
He created this MAGNIFICENT world for us to live in
I also made a list of how He’s specifically shown ME love:
He gives me revelation
He gave me my family
He forgives me
He helps me overcome trials
He gives me talents
He tells me He loves me through others.
I had the opportunity to intern at the Juvenile Corrections Center in St. Anthony this semester. I showed up my first day and expected to be scared out of my mind and be annoyed by these obviously disturbed children. But all I could feel when I spent those first five hours with them was Heavenly Father’s love for them. Some of my boys have done absolutely condemnable things; but He still loves them. So much. And I love them. They annoy me to no end, sometimes, but I still love them.
Never forget that Heavenly Father loves you. Even when you’re trying to hide from Him, lost in sin or pain, or anguish… He still loves you. And I know He wants to know that.
Now, I want to go back to us, humans on this earth. I’ve noticed a trend in our media. Now, I’m not saying I’m exempt from this, because I’m not. In fact, what I’m about to tell you is my guilty pleasure: I love reality shows. I had a roommate that would watch them with me and just be amazed at how bizarrely people act! Our amazement turned to mocking, which I think is the idea behind most reality TV. Now, some shows are great: not all reality TV is bad. But there are those shows that make their money by making fun of Children of God. And you know what I’m talking about. And I’m ashamed to realize that I participate in that source of entertainment.
I’m worried that we’ve forgotten how to love our fellow man. I’m scared that enmity towards each other is on this campus. In my classes. In this ward. What have we done to get so far away from how we’re supposed to treat each other? I’m not saying you have to like everyone: all of us have different personalities. There are going to be clashes. But you do have to love everyone. And let me just tell you, life is so much easier when you love everyone!
Immediately following World War II, the Church had a drive to amass warm clothing to ship to suffering Saints in Europe. Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and Elder Marion G. Romney (1897–1988), an Assistant to the Twelve, took President George Albert Smith to Welfare Square in Salt Lake City to view the results. They were impressed by the generous response of the membership of the Church. They watched President Smith observing the workers as they packaged this great volume of donated clothing and shoes. They saw tears running down his face. After a few moments, President Smith removed his own new overcoat and said, “Please ship this also.”
The Brethren said to him, “No, President, no; don’t send that; it’s cold and you need your coat.”
But President Smith would not take it back; and so his coat, with all the others, was sent to Europe, where the nights were long and dark and food and clothing were scarce. Then the shipments arrived. Joy and thanksgiving were expressed aloud, as well as in secret prayer.
In Mathew 22:35-40, we read:
35 Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, atempting him, and saying,
36 Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt alove the Lord thy God with all thy bheart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy cmind.
38 This is the first and great acommandment.
39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt alove thy neighbour as thyself.
40 On these two commandments hang all the alaw and the prophets.
There. Right there… Christ told us what our entire religion and gospel is based off of: Love. Love for God, and love for our fellow men, for as we love our neighbors, we are showing our love for our Heavenly Father.
Love is a popular topic in this world. It’s the subject for songs, poems, books, movies, shows. Love is what drives us, keeps us going in this world. Sadly, the love the world portrays is not always real love. And I don’t mean chastity-wise: I mean the way humans treat other humans.
When I decided on this topic, I tried to think of ways that I’ve been shown love in my life. Immediately my family came to mind: they love me even though I’m the most annoying child in the family, and give them all many reasons to try and murder me in my sleep. Thankfully, charity has filled their hearts and I’m still alive today.
Other ways that I have been shown love were through notes of encouragement left by Relief Society members; roommates listening to me cry about the same thing week after week; my sister writing me letters from the mission field; my roommate telling me that she really and truly hopes that we’re friends as old ladies and play with each other’s grandkids; and my brother, who isn’t a touching type of person, giving me a hug when I was frustrated at a band competition.
How do we show love? When true love fills our hearts, we can’t keep to ourselves. Joseph Smith said, “Love is one of the chief characteristics of Deity, and ought to be manifested by those who aspire to be the sons of God. A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”
Well, that makes sense. Aren’t we kinder and more empathetic to others when we’re in good moods? When we feel loved? I know I am. I wake up really perky and kind of loud in the mornings. I’ll see my half-awake roommates and smile at them and say “Good Morning SUNSHINE!” Thank goodness my roommates have charity and smile back at me through their groggy haze. One time after my ritual morning greetings, my roommate told me “I’m so glad we’re roommates. My mornings wouldn’t be half as uplifting without you.” I walked on air that day. I saw people that annoyed me, but I was kind to them, with kindness in my heart. I felt love that morning, and tried to share it the entire day.
Elder Wirthlin said:
“Love is the beginning, the middle, and the end of the pathway of discipleship. It comforts, counsels, cures, and consoles. It leads us through valleys of darkness and through the veil of death. In the end love leads us to the glory and grandeur of eternal life.”
I’d like to jump streams here and move to our Heavenly Father’s love for us. “It is wonderful to know that our Heavenly Father loves us—even with all our flaws! His love is such that even should we give up on ourselves, He never will.”
He never will.
I am taking FA 100 this semester, and have been not-so-silently cursing the course all semester. I chose the BFA senior show for my art exhibit option, and I saw something there that gave me a glimpse of my Heavenly Father. There was a photography exhibit called “Time.” In these photos, the artist took pictures of one thing at multiple times and photo-shopped them together into one picture. There was a river, the sky, a flower. When I saw these photos, I realized that this is the view that Heavenly Father has. Even when we wilt like that rose in the photo did, he sees us when we’re blooming. Even in the winter of our lives, he sees our summers. Heavenly Father sees us in terms of forever. He sees us as the glorious beings we are capable of becoming.
Elder Wirthlin asked us: Do you love the Lord? He then instructs us to spend time with Him. Serve Him, meditate upon His scriptures. Feed His sheep.
I had the opportunity to go to the temple yesterday morning, and while in the chapel, I made a list of ways that Heavenly Father shows us His love. I came up with:
He gives us prophets
He gives us commandments
He chastens us
He sent His son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to atone for us
He created this MAGNIFICENT world for us to live in
I also made a list of how He’s specifically shown ME love:
He gives me revelation
He gave me my family
He forgives me
He helps me overcome trials
He gives me talents
He tells me He loves me through others.
I had the opportunity to intern at the Juvenile Corrections Center in St. Anthony this semester. I showed up my first day and expected to be scared out of my mind and be annoyed by these obviously disturbed children. But all I could feel when I spent those first five hours with them was Heavenly Father’s love for them. Some of my boys have done absolutely condemnable things; but He still loves them. So much. And I love them. They annoy me to no end, sometimes, but I still love them.
Never forget that Heavenly Father loves you. Even when you’re trying to hide from Him, lost in sin or pain, or anguish… He still loves you. And I know He wants to know that.
Now, I want to go back to us, humans on this earth. I’ve noticed a trend in our media. Now, I’m not saying I’m exempt from this, because I’m not. In fact, what I’m about to tell you is my guilty pleasure: I love reality shows. I had a roommate that would watch them with me and just be amazed at how bizarrely people act! Our amazement turned to mocking, which I think is the idea behind most reality TV. Now, some shows are great: not all reality TV is bad. But there are those shows that make their money by making fun of Children of God. And you know what I’m talking about. And I’m ashamed to realize that I participate in that source of entertainment.
I’m worried that we’ve forgotten how to love our fellow man. I’m scared that enmity towards each other is on this campus. In my classes. In this ward. What have we done to get so far away from how we’re supposed to treat each other? I’m not saying you have to like everyone: all of us have different personalities. There are going to be clashes. But you do have to love everyone. And let me just tell you, life is so much easier when you love everyone!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Born on the fourth of July
Ah, Independence day. Here's what went down today:
Bree and I made our own BBQ today. She made this FABULOUS German Potatoe Salad, I made chicken and we both made fruit salad. It was soooooo yummy!!
Afterwards we sat around and watched TV, took naps, and watched True Lies. All in all, a good day.
Bree and I made our own BBQ today. She made this FABULOUS German Potatoe Salad, I made chicken and we both made fruit salad. It was soooooo yummy!!
Afterwards we sat around and watched TV, took naps, and watched True Lies. All in all, a good day.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Substance and Emotional Abuse
I've been having a hard time in one of my classes this semester. Health Psych has been kicking my trash. I didn't know how bad it was until I checked my midterm grade and it was an F. I freaked. After talking to my professor (he says I can still get a C, no problem), I went home with a renewed sense of action. I studied hard and long this past weekend for my next test in that class. Once I felt fairly confident, I marched (drove) over to the testing center (holocust gas chambers) and took my test. Surprisingly, I still felt confident while taking the test! I knew this stuff! Studying works!
Ha.
Funny story. I waited for my score and it popped up on the screen just outside the exit, as usual. And guess what it was: 65%. I wanted at least a 75%, but no, I got 65%. I spent the rest of the day being gloomy and sad, crying over a test score.
BUT IT GETS BETTER:
I show up to class on Monday, as usual, but the class is overly agitated. Apparently, everyone got a crappy grade. Even the stuck up rude boy that sits next to me said he failed the test. One girl complained to the professor, and after closer examination, he realized that the answer key had gotten about 10 questions wrong. I felt more anxiety scoring the test right there in class than when I actually took it. Guess what? I GOT A 77%!!!!!! I didn't suck, I wasn't stupid, and my score went up significantly!!!
YAY ME!!
And that's my academic miracle story for today.
Ha.
Funny story. I waited for my score and it popped up on the screen just outside the exit, as usual. And guess what it was: 65%. I wanted at least a 75%, but no, I got 65%. I spent the rest of the day being gloomy and sad, crying over a test score.
BUT IT GETS BETTER:
I show up to class on Monday, as usual, but the class is overly agitated. Apparently, everyone got a crappy grade. Even the stuck up rude boy that sits next to me said he failed the test. One girl complained to the professor, and after closer examination, he realized that the answer key had gotten about 10 questions wrong. I felt more anxiety scoring the test right there in class than when I actually took it. Guess what? I GOT A 77%!!!!!! I didn't suck, I wasn't stupid, and my score went up significantly!!!
YAY ME!!
And that's my academic miracle story for today.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
"We're war veterans! We're allowed to be mad!"
Laurel, I stole that from you because it absolutely made me giggle for twenty minutes. My goal is to spread it throughout the world and bring giggles to all the poor people in India.
That almost made sense.
I find my lack of motivation astounding.
I work with far too many attractive, funny, nice, and all around good guys. Makes life interesting to say the least...
Since I've decided to get back on the mission path, it's been increasingly difficult to motivate myself to find a date for this weekend. My roommates and I planned (sorta) this group date for Saturday, and now I have to find someone. But, as is typical Kacey fashion, I have recently rid myself of any options. Yes. That's life.
I'll be fine. Just gotta get the gumption to do it!
That almost made sense.
I find my lack of motivation astounding.
I work with far too many attractive, funny, nice, and all around good guys. Makes life interesting to say the least...
Since I've decided to get back on the mission path, it's been increasingly difficult to motivate myself to find a date for this weekend. My roommates and I planned (sorta) this group date for Saturday, and now I have to find someone. But, as is typical Kacey fashion, I have recently rid myself of any options. Yes. That's life.
I'll be fine. Just gotta get the gumption to do it!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Welcome Welcome Monday Morning!
I dreamt that I hit the snooze button at my usual time: 6:30 a.m. Apparently, my dream was so vivid that I woke myself out of a dream because I knew I'd been sleeping for a while-- far longer than 10 minutes. I panicked immediately and looked at my clock (I'm awake at this point) and it said 3:10. But the hall light was on! Someone had to be awake, so it couldn't be 3:10. My next thought was that the electricity went out and my clock started over at midnight. So I whipped out my cell phone and looked at the time-- blast! I had a text message so I couldn't check it! I got rid of the text and my phone said "3:11 a.m." Holy. Cow. I was SOOOOO convinced that it was 7:00 or later!!! I closed my phone and tried to sleep for the next thirty minutes, but I'd been so good at convincing myself that it was around 7, my body had a hard time falling back asleep.
Weird.
Anyway!
Life's been GOOD lately! Here's what I've been up to:
Made a boot and two water fountains in my ceramics and sculpture classes. Soooo fun! After they're glazed, I'll take pictures and put em up here.
Bought two tomatoe plants: one cherry and one beefsteak. I have yet to name them, but they are thirsty buggers!
Registered for classes for my LAST SEMESTER last night!! HOLY COW!!!! AND YAY!! Tori and I are going to take a New Testament class together next semester. I've been working out Tori's schedule, and I'm a little jealous that she gets to take an Ag class.
Went to a William Joseph concert last night. It was the second of his that I've been to. It was PHENOMENAL!!!
About after graduation: I'm thinking about serving a mission again. For those who don't know, about 16 months ago, I made the decision to serve a mission. Since I was only 19, though, I put it out of my mind for a while. Now that I turn 21 in a few months, (four to be exact), and I graduate in a few more months (6 to be exact) the thought has been popping up again. I talked to my bishop yesterday, and so I'm pretty sure that I'm going to serve a mission after I graduate. YAY FOR PLANS AFTER GRADUATION!!!
Also, I have a four day weekend for the 4th of July. I'm trying to find people to drive with me to california. If I can, then I'm heading home for a few days!!
Yay!!
Life. Is. Good.
Weird.
Anyway!
Life's been GOOD lately! Here's what I've been up to:
Made a boot and two water fountains in my ceramics and sculpture classes. Soooo fun! After they're glazed, I'll take pictures and put em up here.
Bought two tomatoe plants: one cherry and one beefsteak. I have yet to name them, but they are thirsty buggers!
Registered for classes for my LAST SEMESTER last night!! HOLY COW!!!! AND YAY!! Tori and I are going to take a New Testament class together next semester. I've been working out Tori's schedule, and I'm a little jealous that she gets to take an Ag class.
Went to a William Joseph concert last night. It was the second of his that I've been to. It was PHENOMENAL!!!
About after graduation: I'm thinking about serving a mission again. For those who don't know, about 16 months ago, I made the decision to serve a mission. Since I was only 19, though, I put it out of my mind for a while. Now that I turn 21 in a few months, (four to be exact), and I graduate in a few more months (6 to be exact) the thought has been popping up again. I talked to my bishop yesterday, and so I'm pretty sure that I'm going to serve a mission after I graduate. YAY FOR PLANS AFTER GRADUATION!!!
Also, I have a four day weekend for the 4th of July. I'm trying to find people to drive with me to california. If I can, then I'm heading home for a few days!!
Yay!!
Life. Is. Good.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
blank
Some people remember things in a blur. Others report a slow-mo feeling, like the movie of their life had been fiddeled with. Me? I don't remember anything past announcing to my family that it was officially off. My brain shut down in defense of the emotionall ammo being shot at it the moment I heard myself say "Because he's changed his mind." I must have gone to my room and sat on the green air bed. But I don't remember that. I might have cried-- I probably cried-- I just can't remember. In fact, all I can remember are little snippets; a short trailer of that part of my life is all I can seem to assemble. I count it as a blessing, I really do. I also find it odd.
I remember hiding the ring in my Bolivia bag, underneath a pile of other wedding things. I was going to make him ask for it back, but I couldn't make myself look at it any longer. It was a painfully beautiful symbol of his love and devotion... the things that made it special now made it acidic, painful to even think about. That symbol was a sham, and I was in too much denial to face it.
I don't remember that next week. I remember returning tule. I remember sitting on the couch, eating chocolate favors and watching Lost. I remember Disneyland. Other than that: nada.
I remember the first time Mom cried about it. It wasn't until Grandma Geneva commented on how sad it was. That's when she finally felt it. Hearing her tell me this was a shot to my heart: now this was hurting those closest to me. But I don't remember much else.
Grandma Carlee said she was sorry and that she would call all the family on her side. I thanked her, numbness in my voice. I remember the false optimism I would speak about, giving everyone around me relief from my situation. Everyone except me.
I remember the first time I could look at a boy in that not so subtle way and not feel ashamed. I remember looking at him and really seeing someone that could make me happy, at least for the time being.
I remember the next time I loved someone. It was fast, short, and intense... much like me. But I loved him.
I remember the first time I heard a man tell me he loved me and truly mean it after that day. I remember how it felt to know that not only did he love to talk to me, but he also loved to look at me, to hold me. That was the first time I'd ever experienced that. I remember thanking him later for that.
I remember the day I talked to him and didn't feel anger or remorse. I asked about his life and how he was without ulterior motives or ideas. I wasn't reminded of those old times. This was definitely a new time. I was a new me.
I am a new me.
I've met parts of the real me, the parts that I know for sure that are true. And guess what: I like her. I like her a lot.
Someday, a man will love her more than she can imagine. I can't wait until that happens. When I can no longer remember what it felt like to be sitting here right now.
But for now... I don't need those memories. Today is sufficient for me.
I remember hiding the ring in my Bolivia bag, underneath a pile of other wedding things. I was going to make him ask for it back, but I couldn't make myself look at it any longer. It was a painfully beautiful symbol of his love and devotion... the things that made it special now made it acidic, painful to even think about. That symbol was a sham, and I was in too much denial to face it.
I don't remember that next week. I remember returning tule. I remember sitting on the couch, eating chocolate favors and watching Lost. I remember Disneyland. Other than that: nada.
I remember the first time Mom cried about it. It wasn't until Grandma Geneva commented on how sad it was. That's when she finally felt it. Hearing her tell me this was a shot to my heart: now this was hurting those closest to me. But I don't remember much else.
Grandma Carlee said she was sorry and that she would call all the family on her side. I thanked her, numbness in my voice. I remember the false optimism I would speak about, giving everyone around me relief from my situation. Everyone except me.
I remember the first time I could look at a boy in that not so subtle way and not feel ashamed. I remember looking at him and really seeing someone that could make me happy, at least for the time being.
I remember the next time I loved someone. It was fast, short, and intense... much like me. But I loved him.
I remember the first time I heard a man tell me he loved me and truly mean it after that day. I remember how it felt to know that not only did he love to talk to me, but he also loved to look at me, to hold me. That was the first time I'd ever experienced that. I remember thanking him later for that.
I remember the day I talked to him and didn't feel anger or remorse. I asked about his life and how he was without ulterior motives or ideas. I wasn't reminded of those old times. This was definitely a new time. I was a new me.
I am a new me.
I've met parts of the real me, the parts that I know for sure that are true. And guess what: I like her. I like her a lot.
Someday, a man will love her more than she can imagine. I can't wait until that happens. When I can no longer remember what it felt like to be sitting here right now.
But for now... I don't need those memories. Today is sufficient for me.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Oh what do you do in the summer time...
...when all the leaves are green!
Yes Rexburg is beautiful this time of year! Now I know what I've been missing and what Tori will get to experience. This place is seriously amazing and there always seems to be something to do... especially homework. GAH! Tons and tons of homework!!
So here's what's been going on in my life lately:
Wow. I've just spent the last three minutes trying to think of exciting things from my life, and I honestly can't think of any. That's sad.
But at least I'm enjoying it!
Yes Rexburg is beautiful this time of year! Now I know what I've been missing and what Tori will get to experience. This place is seriously amazing and there always seems to be something to do... especially homework. GAH! Tons and tons of homework!!
So here's what's been going on in my life lately:
Wow. I've just spent the last three minutes trying to think of exciting things from my life, and I honestly can't think of any. That's sad.
But at least I'm enjoying it!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Hahahahaha!
Quick story: so I sent a text message to my friend yesterday telling him that this boy in my ward is cute and funny. Well, sometimes my predictive text sucks, and instead of "He's cute and funny," my friend got "He's cute be funny."
Poor friend. Couldn't understand why I wanted him to be funny.
:)
Bwa ha! I know it's not that funny, but I am STILL laughing at it. BWA HA HA!!!
Poor friend. Couldn't understand why I wanted him to be funny.
:)
Bwa ha! I know it's not that funny, but I am STILL laughing at it. BWA HA HA!!!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Glow, Baby, Glow!!
Last night I played hide-n-seek in the Civil Defense caves. I was a little concerned as to how we would play, but my friend Kami told me not to fear. We stocked up on glow sticks at the dollar tree and took off for the caves. We hiked down to a really rocky part of the caves and then... I was attacked. People (there were about 25-30 of us) started cutting their glowsticks in half and spraying the crap EVERYWHERE.
"What's going on?" I shouted over the rukus. Kami smiled and said "Don't worry, it'll come out. You need to get it all over the rocks and yourself." "Okay." I accepted it without further question. I broke my glowsticks in half and Kami and I shook the liquid all over each other. Others opened large glowsticks and shouted "COVER YOUR EYES!" As I placed my hands over my eyes I catch glimpse of glow juice beeing shook all over the group.
The end result was a bunch of people covered with glowing dots and splatters in a cave that looked like the inside of Space Mountain at Disney Land. It was AWESOME!!!
So we all hid, pretending to be rocks, while one person searched. I was found the first couple times, but then I found the perfect spot... behind a rock. This is how good it was: several people who had been found one round stood AROUND ME and had no idea I was there! The person who was it STEPPED ON MY FACE (ow!) because he thought I was a rock!!! I hid in the same place another time, and I was only found because the guy next to me got stepped on and so I revealed myself as to avoid another face stepping experience.
All in all a good experience. Pictures to come soon!!
"What's going on?" I shouted over the rukus. Kami smiled and said "Don't worry, it'll come out. You need to get it all over the rocks and yourself." "Okay." I accepted it without further question. I broke my glowsticks in half and Kami and I shook the liquid all over each other. Others opened large glowsticks and shouted "COVER YOUR EYES!" As I placed my hands over my eyes I catch glimpse of glow juice beeing shook all over the group.
The end result was a bunch of people covered with glowing dots and splatters in a cave that looked like the inside of Space Mountain at Disney Land. It was AWESOME!!!
So we all hid, pretending to be rocks, while one person searched. I was found the first couple times, but then I found the perfect spot... behind a rock. This is how good it was: several people who had been found one round stood AROUND ME and had no idea I was there! The person who was it STEPPED ON MY FACE (ow!) because he thought I was a rock!!! I hid in the same place another time, and I was only found because the guy next to me got stepped on and so I revealed myself as to avoid another face stepping experience.
All in all a good experience. Pictures to come soon!!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
PPPPPPPCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!
This was me yesterday:
Does it look sucky? Because it was.
This semester is going to kill me.
Friday, May 8, 2009
You see this smile upon my mouth...
Life is starting to work out!
Work at the JCC is great. I'm loving my boys, as in they aren't super scared of me anymore, and I'm really getting a feel for the place.
School is going well too. Though, I take a test today, so ask me afterwards how I feel about school, lol.
I feel so grateful for the blessings I have in my life, and there are many. Smaller ones are: it's not snowing, my car works, I've dressed exceptionally cute these past few days, and I ate a really decent dinner at the JCC last night. Bigger ones include: my car works WELL, my roommates are SOOO amazing this semester, I have good friends, excellent professionals to work with, food to eat, hair on my head, and brains in my skull. I'm taking classes that I love and I see the sunshine nearly every day! I am surrounded by people who love and care about me. I have a family that loves me despite my extreme differences from them, and some boys think I'm cute. More importantly-- I think I'm cute.
I have the most beautiful niece and adorable nephew, and sister-in-laws that don't mind sharing :). Not only that, but I love them and get along with them. I miss Sarah so much!! And Brandon too... but Sarah first!
I have younger sisters that seem to look up to me, and even though I feel that is a large responsability, I also feeled honored and humbled by their mild admiration. I have an older sister who is my best friend, and is setting a prime example for me by serving a mission. I love her so much! And Joseph-- I love that boy so much. I learn from him every time we interact, and I wish I could tell him how amazing he was... but I don't have the words to say it. And I'm his older sister, so, uh, I have cooties, right?
My parents are loving and amazing. My siblings are my support system. My friends are the catalysts of my happiness, and my Savior is the one who helps me return to live with Him and His father.
I love the Gospel and the truths within it. I am grateful for the Atonement and the ability I have to repent and be washed clean. I'm grateful for modern day revelation, and the knowledge that Heavenly Father knows me and loves me personally.
I could go on and on, but I have class.
I love you all.
Work at the JCC is great. I'm loving my boys, as in they aren't super scared of me anymore, and I'm really getting a feel for the place.
School is going well too. Though, I take a test today, so ask me afterwards how I feel about school, lol.
I feel so grateful for the blessings I have in my life, and there are many. Smaller ones are: it's not snowing, my car works, I've dressed exceptionally cute these past few days, and I ate a really decent dinner at the JCC last night. Bigger ones include: my car works WELL, my roommates are SOOO amazing this semester, I have good friends, excellent professionals to work with, food to eat, hair on my head, and brains in my skull. I'm taking classes that I love and I see the sunshine nearly every day! I am surrounded by people who love and care about me. I have a family that loves me despite my extreme differences from them, and some boys think I'm cute. More importantly-- I think I'm cute.
I have the most beautiful niece and adorable nephew, and sister-in-laws that don't mind sharing :). Not only that, but I love them and get along with them. I miss Sarah so much!! And Brandon too... but Sarah first!
I have younger sisters that seem to look up to me, and even though I feel that is a large responsability, I also feeled honored and humbled by their mild admiration. I have an older sister who is my best friend, and is setting a prime example for me by serving a mission. I love her so much! And Joseph-- I love that boy so much. I learn from him every time we interact, and I wish I could tell him how amazing he was... but I don't have the words to say it. And I'm his older sister, so, uh, I have cooties, right?
My parents are loving and amazing. My siblings are my support system. My friends are the catalysts of my happiness, and my Savior is the one who helps me return to live with Him and His father.
I love the Gospel and the truths within it. I am grateful for the Atonement and the ability I have to repent and be washed clean. I'm grateful for modern day revelation, and the knowledge that Heavenly Father knows me and loves me personally.
I could go on and on, but I have class.
I love you all.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I was made for you
I, Kacey Barros, am still sick. Yicky yick yick. My head was super congested on Wednesday, and Thursday morning was Hell, but yesterday was good! And then... the coughing. All day I've been hacking away! TERRIBLE!
I was able to work on my ceramic projects, however, and that was good. A total of five hours was spent in that lab, but it's the funnest homework I've ever had. One of the projects is for my ceramics class. The technique we're learning is coiling, which is pretty much rolling out long snakes and coiling them into a pot or something. I decided to break the mold and made a water fountain. The guidelines are as follows: it must be process evident (you have to be able to tell that I coiled it), and it has to be at least 12" tall or long. I went tall. Now, I had a specific image in my head, but as I was making it, it started to look like... well, it's kinda awkward. I had to fix it unless I wanted my entire class noticing that I had made a fourteen inch phallic symbol. Not so much the image I had in mind. Now it's pretty and almost done! I'll put up pictures after I fire it.
At first my ceramics and sculpture classes were giving me ulcers. These are new skills that I've never had experience with before, and everyone in my classes either have taken a class before, or they're art majors so the scare the bejeezus out of me. But I stopped worrying about it. HA! I'm the worry QUEEN, but I managed to just enjoy myself and do things my own way. As long I'm satisfying myself, then I don't care about the rest. I turn in my first projects that I made with this attitude on Tuesday... we'll see if my teacher agrees. :)
I was able to work on my ceramic projects, however, and that was good. A total of five hours was spent in that lab, but it's the funnest homework I've ever had. One of the projects is for my ceramics class. The technique we're learning is coiling, which is pretty much rolling out long snakes and coiling them into a pot or something. I decided to break the mold and made a water fountain. The guidelines are as follows: it must be process evident (you have to be able to tell that I coiled it), and it has to be at least 12" tall or long. I went tall. Now, I had a specific image in my head, but as I was making it, it started to look like... well, it's kinda awkward. I had to fix it unless I wanted my entire class noticing that I had made a fourteen inch phallic symbol. Not so much the image I had in mind. Now it's pretty and almost done! I'll put up pictures after I fire it.
At first my ceramics and sculpture classes were giving me ulcers. These are new skills that I've never had experience with before, and everyone in my classes either have taken a class before, or they're art majors so the scare the bejeezus out of me. But I stopped worrying about it. HA! I'm the worry QUEEN, but I managed to just enjoy myself and do things my own way. As long I'm satisfying myself, then I don't care about the rest. I turn in my first projects that I made with this attitude on Tuesday... we'll see if my teacher agrees. :)
Friday, April 24, 2009
Dear Rose,
Yesterday was my first day at the JCC Internship. Orientation was on Tuesday, and can I just say that the drive home that night was a scary one... I felt so overwhelmed! How was I going to remember which cabins were where? Was I really going to walk around this campus with these kids all around? But yesterday, all those fears were dispelled. I'll still get a little lost, but I feel so safe there.
Because of confidentiality, I can't say much. But I can say that, so far, I've been given the perfect group of boys for my personality. I'm the youngest of the interns and I was assigned the youngest group of boys-- my supervisor calls them the "ankle biters". What I've noticed about these kids is that they are good boys who have done some seriously stupid and bad things. But the first thing I felt, suprisingly enough, was Christ's love for them. I understood how Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ could love every sinner. Four of the boys are the same age as Kit, my little sister, and it gives me the heebie jeebies to know that they were capable of doing what they've done. But it also gives me a chance to see them through different eyes.
I was warned that some of the boys will get attached to me and that I need to keep firm boundries. The oldest boy in the group has already started paying special attention to me: holding out my chair at chow time, introducing me to everyone. He's a nice kid, but I'm going to keep an eye on him...
But don't worry-- I'm not flattered or pleased with their attention at all. I know that they are manipulative and that I posses anatomy that no one else in their group does, which makes me a rare item. I'm not fooled by their acts.
But I still see the goodness in them.
Interesting.
I'M SO EXCITED!!!!
Because of confidentiality, I can't say much. But I can say that, so far, I've been given the perfect group of boys for my personality. I'm the youngest of the interns and I was assigned the youngest group of boys-- my supervisor calls them the "ankle biters". What I've noticed about these kids is that they are good boys who have done some seriously stupid and bad things. But the first thing I felt, suprisingly enough, was Christ's love for them. I understood how Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ could love every sinner. Four of the boys are the same age as Kit, my little sister, and it gives me the heebie jeebies to know that they were capable of doing what they've done. But it also gives me a chance to see them through different eyes.
I was warned that some of the boys will get attached to me and that I need to keep firm boundries. The oldest boy in the group has already started paying special attention to me: holding out my chair at chow time, introducing me to everyone. He's a nice kid, but I'm going to keep an eye on him...
But don't worry-- I'm not flattered or pleased with their attention at all. I know that they are manipulative and that I posses anatomy that no one else in their group does, which makes me a rare item. I'm not fooled by their acts.
But I still see the goodness in them.
Interesting.
I'M SO EXCITED!!!!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Internship!!
JCC in St. Anthony:
"Interns will be exposed to many aspects of the JCC St. Anthony residential treatment program including, education, security, student life, medical, and peer group counseling, drug and alcohol counseling, psychological assessment, risk assessment, and aftercare planning. An integral part of this internship involves learning the basics of the Positive Peer Culture treatment modality and being able to demonstrate an understanding of it through appropriate interactions with their assigned student group."
That's the first part of my internship description. I have my first meeting tomorrow to see if I'm a good fit for it, but if all goes well, I start next semester at the JCC!!!
I'm so excited! I did a Family Home Evening with them a few weeks ago, and they blew my mind. These kids have been living sucky and screwed up lives, but here at the JCC, they are learning how to accept resbonsability for their actions and live happier lives. There's just something about the youth that makes me excited and interested.
AHH!!!
PS- I'm graduating in DECEMBER!!
Friday, March 27, 2009
I have a family of blondes...
Just the other day I was trying to explain a blond joke to my Korean student, but he just wasn't getting it. In order to fully understand, I felt that he had to hear a blond joke... problem: I've forgotten all the blond jokes I ever knew!!
Please share some blond jokes with me and help me fill up my repetoire!!
Also, here are some jokes to make you giggle today. :)
"Before the shopper could pay for her groceries with a personal check, I needed her address. 'What's your street name?' I asked. 'I don't have a street name,' she said 'I go by Juanita.'"
This is a sign in a bakery display case in an Oregon restaurant: "Please use tongues, not hands, to remove cookies."
Ever wonder who the genius is who decided to put fire hydrants in al the good parking spots?
Please share some blond jokes with me and help me fill up my repetoire!!
Also, here are some jokes to make you giggle today. :)
"Before the shopper could pay for her groceries with a personal check, I needed her address. 'What's your street name?' I asked. 'I don't have a street name,' she said 'I go by Juanita.'"
This is a sign in a bakery display case in an Oregon restaurant: "Please use tongues, not hands, to remove cookies."
Ever wonder who the genius is who decided to put fire hydrants in al the good parking spots?
Friday, March 20, 2009
The next week...
This next week may very well kill me. And I'm not exagerating.
Okay, maybe I am. But only a little bit.
I'm writing this depressing paper on recreational drugs and how they affect society. I needed a break, so I'm writing on this to avoid it.
Oh wait: For all my siblings: You know how Dad is a bear magnet? Well, I'm trying to do a special project with all the bear stories he has, but I'm sure I can't remember all of them. If you remember any bear stories from our camping excursions, etc. etc., let me know!!
Thanks!
Okay, maybe I am. But only a little bit.
I'm writing this depressing paper on recreational drugs and how they affect society. I needed a break, so I'm writing on this to avoid it.
Oh wait: For all my siblings: You know how Dad is a bear magnet? Well, I'm trying to do a special project with all the bear stories he has, but I'm sure I can't remember all of them. If you remember any bear stories from our camping excursions, etc. etc., let me know!!
Thanks!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it...
That Beyonce song is stuck in my head. It's Eric's fault for doing part of the dance. When I saw him at church today, all I could think of was his cute little "Single Ladies" dance. Bwa ha ha!
Eric is my boyfriend's roommate-- yes, I did say boyfriend!! His name is Benji, he's twenty four, and is (sort of) from South Carolina. I have never met anyone quite like him, and so far, dating him is a blast. To those of you who think this man sounds familiar, it's because he is. We tried dating at the begining of the semester, but I didn't know him well enough to feel comfortable with his past and a possible future with him. Now I'm not saying we're getting married-- gosh, we've only been dating for a week and even I don't get that far ahead of myself. But I do like to be chosey about whom I date: who's to say I won't fall in love?
Anyway, so Benji and I found a shooting range up here in the 'Burg and he really wants to take me. I tried to hold up his rifle, to see if I even could, and decided that the kick-back would have me flat on my back in no time. He also wants to go to Yellowstone this summer, hike around, and... what was the last thing he mentioned? Oh I don't remember, but it will probably come to me at like midnight tonight.
We made creme brule last night. He saw it on my bucket list and told me we were going to do it! Today I get to try it... if it's tastey, I'll cross it off my list.
Anyway, there are a few pictures of me and Benji at the ward social, but we can't find my roommates camera. I guess you'll just have to wait a little bit. :)
Eric is my boyfriend's roommate-- yes, I did say boyfriend!! His name is Benji, he's twenty four, and is (sort of) from South Carolina. I have never met anyone quite like him, and so far, dating him is a blast. To those of you who think this man sounds familiar, it's because he is. We tried dating at the begining of the semester, but I didn't know him well enough to feel comfortable with his past and a possible future with him. Now I'm not saying we're getting married-- gosh, we've only been dating for a week and even I don't get that far ahead of myself. But I do like to be chosey about whom I date: who's to say I won't fall in love?
Anyway, so Benji and I found a shooting range up here in the 'Burg and he really wants to take me. I tried to hold up his rifle, to see if I even could, and decided that the kick-back would have me flat on my back in no time. He also wants to go to Yellowstone this summer, hike around, and... what was the last thing he mentioned? Oh I don't remember, but it will probably come to me at like midnight tonight.
We made creme brule last night. He saw it on my bucket list and told me we were going to do it! Today I get to try it... if it's tastey, I'll cross it off my list.
Anyway, there are a few pictures of me and Benji at the ward social, but we can't find my roommates camera. I guess you'll just have to wait a little bit. :)
Friday, February 27, 2009
"Demain, Des L'aube" et le cinque stade du chagrin
J’étais en classe quand mon père a appelé moi. « Brandon est l’on qu’amènerai moi, oui ? » j’ai demandé. « Kacey, » il a dit, « Grand-père Phillips a tombé mort. » « Quoi ? » « Grand-mère a trouve il à ses lit. » « Quoi ? » j’ai répété. « Ce n’est pas vrai. Il ne peut pas vrai ! Il est sain, les docteurs ont dit nous qu’il est sain ! » Ma corps a commencé trembler, et j’ai pleuré comme je ne pleurais pas avant. Mes amis sont entouré moi, et les sont donné moi les étreintes. « Ça va, Kacey, ça va, » mon ami Robert à dit. « Il serait à ma mariage ! » j’ai crié. Robert à parle « il y sera. »
Aujourd’hui, il me manque, mais je ne pleure plus. Je pleure pour longtemps, mais pas plus. Est-ce que ça va ? Quelle type de pensée suit c’expérience ? Je pense que le poème « Demain, Dès L’Aube » dessine une bonne peinture de cet exemple.
Le poème commence avec le matin. « Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne. » (p. 119). Il me rappelle le choque première quand tu découvris un cher est mort. C’est le commencement du processus. Il n’y a pas espace pour un grande range d’émotions. Vous ne sentez rien ; vous regardez et vous écoutez. Vous ne savez pas quoi faire. Tout vous savez est que il n’est pas vrai.
Le deuxième stade de chagrin est colère. Si vous fâchez contre la personne, ou cette situation, vous serez colère. Je pense le poème saute cet émotion, et continue à le troisième stade : négocie. Victor Hugo négocie avec Dieu et sa fille pour l’occasion voir encore fois. « J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne. Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps. » (p. 119). Victor Hugo supplie avec Dieu, sa fille, et avec nature. Son sentier, son travail, est un testament de son empressement faire quoi est nécessaire. Il veut la voire. Il a besoin voir.
Le quatrième stade est dépression. La deuxième strophe illustrait cette émotion parfaitement. « Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées [.] » Un symptôme de dépression est l’obsession avec vos pensées. Vous vivez en votre tête parce que le monde n’est pas quoi vous voulez. C’est un mécanisme de défense : dans votre monde, tout est sur votre control. Control est la chose qu’on a besoin pour garder son équilibre.
« Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit/ Seul, inconnu, le dos courbe, les mains croisées/ Triste, et le jour pour moie sera comme la nuit. » Dans cette strophe, on senti l’intensité de ce situation. Rien n’est important pour lui ; la seule chose qu’est important est elle. Son corps illustre la dépression avec « le dos courbe, les mains croisées. » (p. 119). Et il, encore, dessine une grande peinture pour nous quand il comparé ses émotions avec le jour.
Le final stade est acceptation. Dans la finale strophe, Victor Hugo accepte la perte de sa fille. Il accepte que la fille soit morte. « Et quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe/ Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur. » (p. 119). Il prend action dans cette idée montrer son acceptation. MAIS, il y a un thème d’espérance. J’aime cette idée. Il sait et accepte qu’elle est mort, mais il a l’espérance qu’il la verra un jour. Le thème d’espérance est dans l’entier poème. « Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends. » C’est un phrase d’espérance !
Le final stade est acceptation. Dans la finale strophe, Victor Hugo accepte la perte de sa fille. Il accepte que la fille soit morte. « Et quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe/ Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur. » (p. 119). Il prend action dans cette idée montrer son acceptation. MAIS, il y a un thème d’espérance. J’aime cette idée. Il sait et accepte qu’elle est mort, mais il a l’espérance qu’il la verra un jour. Le thème d’espérance est dans l’entier poème. « Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends. » C’est un phrase d’espérance !
J’écoutais quand mon père lis son histoire, j’ai su que je serrais avec mon grand-père un jour. J’ai accepté le fait qu’il était mort. Mais, ce n’était pas un mal chose ; il était une bonne chose parce qu’il vit dans la mon cœur et dans les éternités toujours. Ma grand-mère avait cette connaissance, et elle n’était pas triste : elle avait l’espérance. Je vive avec espérance.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Avant je finis...
We had to make a "Bucket List" for my Family Recreation class. I keep misplacing the list, so I've decided to post it on here. Don't laugh, okay? And these are in no particular order... it's just as I thought of them, I wrote them down.
1. Go sky diving
2. Fall in love and stay in love
3. Get married
4. Sing in front of a large audience
5. Learn to Hula dance
6. Sleep in a castle
7. Get kissed in the rain
8. Have children-- adopting can fulfil this one
9. Go on a trail ride that is longer than three days
10. Go to the Azores
11. Write a Poem in French
12. Compose a song
13. Go to every temple in California
14. Use my French in a francophone country
15. Make creme-brule
16. Read all of Madeline L'Engle's books
17. Publish a book
18. Scuba dive
19. Serve a mission-- before or after I get married
20. Go to the Sacred Grove
21. Go to the Holy Land
22. Swim in the Mediterranian Sea
23. Learn to play the guitar
24. Read the entire Book of Mormon in French
25. Crochet a blanket
26. Sew a patchwork quilt
27. Go to my sisters' weddings
28. Go to India
29. Own a Sari
30. Go on a cruise
31. Build a snowcave
32. Have a garden
33. Have an orange tree
34. Go snowshoeing
35. Dance in the rain/ snow
36. Swim with my clothes on
37. Go to the Louvre
38. Ride an elephant
39. Go dog sledding
40. See Monet's gardens
41. Learn a Native American dance
42. Own a handgun
43. Memorize EVERY scripture mastery
44. Go to Scotland
45. Throw a pot
46. Learn to skateboard
47. Own a kilt
48. Have Haggis
49. Sew Easter Dresses for my daughters
50. Have real cajun crawfish.
51. Own an opal ring
52. Go to Abbey Lane
That's all so far.
1. Go sky diving
2. Fall in love and stay in love
3. Get married
4. Sing in front of a large audience
5. Learn to Hula dance
6. Sleep in a castle
7. Get kissed in the rain
8. Have children-- adopting can fulfil this one
9. Go on a trail ride that is longer than three days
10. Go to the Azores
11. Write a Poem in French
12. Compose a song
13. Go to every temple in California
14. Use my French in a francophone country
15. Make creme-brule
16. Read all of Madeline L'Engle's books
17. Publish a book
18. Scuba dive
19. Serve a mission-- before or after I get married
20. Go to the Sacred Grove
21. Go to the Holy Land
22. Swim in the Mediterranian Sea
23. Learn to play the guitar
24. Read the entire Book of Mormon in French
25. Crochet a blanket
26. Sew a patchwork quilt
27. Go to my sisters' weddings
28. Go to India
29. Own a Sari
30. Go on a cruise
31. Build a snowcave
32. Have a garden
33. Have an orange tree
34. Go snowshoeing
35. Dance in the rain/ snow
36. Swim with my clothes on
37. Go to the Louvre
38. Ride an elephant
39. Go dog sledding
40. See Monet's gardens
41. Learn a Native American dance
42. Own a handgun
43. Memorize EVERY scripture mastery
44. Go to Scotland
45. Throw a pot
46. Learn to skateboard
47. Own a kilt
48. Have Haggis
49. Sew Easter Dresses for my daughters
50. Have real cajun crawfish.
51. Own an opal ring
52. Go to Abbey Lane
That's all so far.
Friday, February 20, 2009
I don't care what anyone else says...
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I've never been one for diamon rings. Even when I was engaged, I wasn't too fond of the rock. For over a year now I've been going through an opal phaze (it's my birthstone). So, after looking through some of the rings a coworker was looking at for his fiancee, I decided to look for myself: yes, that is how bored I was at work yesterday. And I've decided: I really want an Opal ring. Whether it's for my engagement ring, or just because I'm special and deserve an opal ring, I want one. Bad.
Apparently Australia's money is worth less than ours because as I looked around on Ebay, I saw that the currency conversion is in my favor. Why is that relevant? Opal is Autralia's national stone. I still have the blue one Grandma bought for the mom's one year. And let me say, after doing some research, the Aussie's know their Opals.
Speaking of research, did you know there are like fifteen BILLION different colors of Opals? There are red ones and green ones and blue ones and pink ones and black ones... oh heavens, they are pretty. And cheaper than diamonds. Yay!
So, if you ever want to spoil me, or make me happy, or give me monetary love, give me a little sparkly thing like this:
P.S.- My ring finger size is 4 1/2, if anyone was wondering... or if anyone EVER asks...
Monday, February 16, 2009
St. Valentine's Day
I completely expected my V-day to be horrible. But all in all, a good day!
It really started the day before when Daddy called me and told me to buy some flowers and candy and send the bill to him. I went to the Plant Shop on campus because I wanted a potted plant and not a vase... I've been wanting a potted plant for a while.... I saw the most BEAUTIFUL arrangement of tulips (my absolute FAVORITE flowers!!), daffodils and hyacinth and it called my name.... Kacey... Kacey... you know you want to take us home!!! So I did. Here are the flowers that Dad bought me:
Pretty, right? Yeah, I thought so. (He has good taste, what can I say?)
My V- day activities continue the next morning as me and my roommates went swimming (As usual), then my whirly girls went on a sleigh ride with the ward... I didn't feel up to getting exposure, and I really just wanted to read my book and nap. So I did. I talked to Pam (yay!) and then had a great friend-date.
We had a pizza bakeoff. Benjamin was in IF judging a contest so he was running a little late, but it was fun anyway! Justin and Kaeli made the REAL pizza, and I (Benjamin was used for inspiration since he couldn't make it there yet) made the dessert pizza. We got some pictures of the process, but we didn't end up getting too many pictures of the pizza-- we devoured them!
This is Benjamin, Me, Justin and Kaeli after the first pizza was pretty much demolished. You can almost see my fruit pizza behind me, but it's okay. I'm glad it got eaten too fast to get a good picture.
Here's me and Benjamin chattin after dinner... probably about boys... it's what we do.
Later that night, since it was Beck's 21st birthday, we had virgin margarita's and daquiries. I totally had a margarita-- salt on the rim and everything!! All the pictures from that are on Beck's camera, who isn't my roommate, so you'll have to deal with my "hangover" picture. I had just woken up from a nap after church, and I thought the blender with two straws in it as well as quesadilla's (which I have been told make GREAT hangover food) made it look like the perfect scene.
So that was my weekend so far. Awesome, right?
Friday, February 13, 2009
Friday night's alright for... depression??
So, I've noticed a pattern in my Friday nights: they get me down. Unless I'm out with a boy (which happens more than it used to), I'm sitting in my apartment, unable to figure out why I'm so sad. I have one theory, but you'd honestly think that after two years the winter semester would stop reminding me of ... well, you all know. I don't have to say it.
I'm getting that "I don't have a direction" feeling again. I had it last winter and it nearly killed me. I had amazing friends and relief society presidencies, and my testimony grew like crazy. But something's off this semester... and I can't figure it out.
I wonder-- will I ever reach a point in my life when I'm perfectly content and know exactly where I'm going for longer than a day? Or will I always be at an impasse with things? I'm kinda in the middle of starting to date a boy, and I'm going to have a second interview for a job I really REALLY want. The hard thing about both of these is that I really want them. I like this boy, but I'm not entirely sure what's going on. I want this job uber bad, but I'm afraid that they'll reject me after a second interview. I guess it all boils down to one thing: I'm afraid to get my hopes up. I've learned through some very drastic experiences that just because you want something and it seems to be happening/ working, doesn't mean it's going to be. Just because he asks to hold your hand doesn't mean he wants to date you. Just because they ask to meet with you again means they've made their desicion. Just because he gives you a ring and asks you to marry him, doesn't mean he will. And just because He tells you to prepare for a mission, doesn't mean He's going to let you go.
Just because....
hmmm.
I'm getting that "I don't have a direction" feeling again. I had it last winter and it nearly killed me. I had amazing friends and relief society presidencies, and my testimony grew like crazy. But something's off this semester... and I can't figure it out.
I wonder-- will I ever reach a point in my life when I'm perfectly content and know exactly where I'm going for longer than a day? Or will I always be at an impasse with things? I'm kinda in the middle of starting to date a boy, and I'm going to have a second interview for a job I really REALLY want. The hard thing about both of these is that I really want them. I like this boy, but I'm not entirely sure what's going on. I want this job uber bad, but I'm afraid that they'll reject me after a second interview. I guess it all boils down to one thing: I'm afraid to get my hopes up. I've learned through some very drastic experiences that just because you want something and it seems to be happening/ working, doesn't mean it's going to be. Just because he asks to hold your hand doesn't mean he wants to date you. Just because they ask to meet with you again means they've made their desicion. Just because he gives you a ring and asks you to marry him, doesn't mean he will. And just because He tells you to prepare for a mission, doesn't mean He's going to let you go.
Just because....
hmmm.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
essaie
Est-ce que bon être stupide et contente ? Peut-être. Société pense les chrétiens ont contente est stupide. Ils pensent que nous ne connaissons pas la vérité, et nous croyons avec cécité. Et est-ce que vrai ? Non, pas pour notre église. Les prophètes disent nous étudier les commandements avec foi, et apprendre pour nous-mêmes. L’église n’aime pas ignorance, et elle encourage nous apprendre tout de choses.
Rousseau et Emile ont comme le Dieu et nous. Rousseau ne donne pas Emile la réponse immédiatement. Il demande Emile découvrir la solution. Rousseau aide Emile, mais Emile est le gens responsable pour résoudre le problème. Dieu aide les gens avec les problèmes, mais Il demande le travail de la part des hommes.
Je pense que j’écrirais ma 2me essaie sur le texte du Rousseau. Je suis très passionnait cela, et il y aurait beaucoup de chose écrire.
Qu'est-ce que tu pense?
Rousseau et Emile ont comme le Dieu et nous. Rousseau ne donne pas Emile la réponse immédiatement. Il demande Emile découvrir la solution. Rousseau aide Emile, mais Emile est le gens responsable pour résoudre le problème. Dieu aide les gens avec les problèmes, mais Il demande le travail de la part des hommes.
Je pense que j’écrirais ma 2me essaie sur le texte du Rousseau. Je suis très passionnait cela, et il y aurait beaucoup de chose écrire.
Qu'est-ce que tu pense?
Sunday, February 1, 2009
j'ai besoin une sieste...
I already took one. But I want another.
YAY NAPS!!!
This picture is for you, Tora.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Bears
It was a year and a half ago. We had paid for a wedding that didn't happen, so our budget was limited and our time suddenly free. I begged my dad to go camping, telling him it was my favorite thing to do. He said, "Sure! Randy told me about a place down past Visalia that's free and totally unknown by most people!" We all agreed, went shopping for camping food and some supplies, and packed up the white trailor. We were on our way that July morning, driving two hours to reach our campsite. What we arrived at what was a beautiful representation of the California forest, with large trees, endless dirt, and a small creek trickling nearby. Pookie, our small dog, found a spot in the car and refused to budge: she hated getting dirty! We set up our two tents and started a fire for dinner. Thankfully, we found a secluded site close to the bathrooms. That evening we relaxed in front of the fire, reading books, telling stories, and enjoying NOT being in Madera. Before we headed to our sleepingbags for the night, Dad and I put all of our food and water into the white trailor to protect it from the bears.
Yes, bears.
My dad is a bear magnet.
We found huge bear prints all over our trailor the next morning. Mom took CSI pictures, but they really don't even show how gigantic the paws were. We giggled at ourselves for being so clever as to outsmart the bears--which didn't happen all that often in my family. We were all a little shocked that Pookie hadn't barked at the bears during the night: she barked at the campers two hundred yards away, but not the bears?? The next night, however, us and the bears seemed to be on the same page.
We had no running water in the campground, so we used our five gallon thermoses to hold our water. We were worried that the bears would damage them during the night, so they were locked up in the trailor with the rest of our food. Because of this, we, the girls, drank a ton of water to store up for the night.
Sometime in the middle of the night, we all had to pee. I got up, found my flashlight, and walked the fifty yards to the cement building that housed the bathrooms. Tori came too because I wouldn't go by myself. After we came back and snuggled back down into our sleeping bags, Michayla tried to convince us to go with her. I refused, finally comfortable in bed, but Tori said to ask Dad. "I can't wake Dad up!" Michayla protested. I sighed and said, "He's already up. Can't you hear him taking Joe to the bathroom?" Indeed, the two boys were taking advantage of being boys and were taking a potty trip several yards away. Michayla capitalized on the opportunity and rushed out to Dad, begging him to go to the bathroom with her. He said he'd walk out to the clearing and wait for her there. She booked it to the bathroom and Dad waited in the clearing between the potty and our campsite. I drift off, figuring the situation had resolved itself, but I am wrong.
I hear Dad start banging the lid of our dutch oven with a hammer. Seriously? What was he doing? Michayla kept shouting "I'm not coming! I'm not coming!" Dad started whispering, rather loudly, "C'mon! C'mon!" Pookie our brave (not) dogg pokes her head out of Kit's sleeping bag (stinking camel) and starts to trot outside to Dad. I had to sit up and cut her off, grabbing th back half of her body and pulling her to the ground. Stupid dog. After a few minutes, Michayla dashed through the tent door and practically slid into her sleeping bag.
This is what happened:
On Michayla's way back to the campsite, from the bathroom, she made eye contact with a bear. Two bright eyes, described as "like Gollum's eyes in Lord of the Rings!", peered at her from the trees. Dad saw the bear too, grabbed the hammer and dutch oven lid, and started banging them together to scare the bear off. The bear didn't seemed phased at first, and then bolted off in the opposit direction. Michayla, still thoroughly freaked, ran back to the potty and hid in the building. Dad started whispering to her "C'mon! C'mon!". She shouted back, "No!" This went on for several minutes before Dad went and got her. She ran back into the tent, and you know what happened after that. Here's a funny little side note: Dad could NOT figure out why Michayla wouldn't leave the bathroom! Duh! It's a cement building! Oh Daddy...
My family has a history with bears. Actually, it's my dad that's the bear magnet. Another camping story, up in Mineral King, also involved a "bear" and a midnight bathroom run.
I was about ten, maybe eleven, years old. Tori and I were in the small yellow tent together, barely fitting, but totally loving the seclusion. We kept warm in our tiny tent, but it was hard to move around without the other person noticing. One night Tori woke up and told me she had to pee. There were no bathrooms nearby (or close enough to go in the middle of the night), so I told her "just go pee in the bushes!" I was tired, grumpy, and getting colder by the minute. She went outside, walked a yard away, and, well... you know. WELL. Dad was in the big tent nearby, and heard a rustling in the bushes. He listens again, making sure he wasn't imagining it. When his suspicion is confirmed, he starts making loud growling noises to scare the "bear" away. Tori, a.k.a. the "bear", thinks that there is a bear behind Mom and Dad's tent, doesn't even take the time to pull up her pants, and jumps back into the tent.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"There's a bear out there!" she said.
"Did you get to pee?" I asked.
"Barely..."
The next morning, Dad and Tori talked to each other about the bear that came through camp last night. It took them a while, but they finally realized that they were both talking to their bear!
Ahh, my family.
Yes, bears.
My dad is a bear magnet.
We found huge bear prints all over our trailor the next morning. Mom took CSI pictures, but they really don't even show how gigantic the paws were. We giggled at ourselves for being so clever as to outsmart the bears--which didn't happen all that often in my family. We were all a little shocked that Pookie hadn't barked at the bears during the night: she barked at the campers two hundred yards away, but not the bears?? The next night, however, us and the bears seemed to be on the same page.
We had no running water in the campground, so we used our five gallon thermoses to hold our water. We were worried that the bears would damage them during the night, so they were locked up in the trailor with the rest of our food. Because of this, we, the girls, drank a ton of water to store up for the night.
Sometime in the middle of the night, we all had to pee. I got up, found my flashlight, and walked the fifty yards to the cement building that housed the bathrooms. Tori came too because I wouldn't go by myself. After we came back and snuggled back down into our sleeping bags, Michayla tried to convince us to go with her. I refused, finally comfortable in bed, but Tori said to ask Dad. "I can't wake Dad up!" Michayla protested. I sighed and said, "He's already up. Can't you hear him taking Joe to the bathroom?" Indeed, the two boys were taking advantage of being boys and were taking a potty trip several yards away. Michayla capitalized on the opportunity and rushed out to Dad, begging him to go to the bathroom with her. He said he'd walk out to the clearing and wait for her there. She booked it to the bathroom and Dad waited in the clearing between the potty and our campsite. I drift off, figuring the situation had resolved itself, but I am wrong.
I hear Dad start banging the lid of our dutch oven with a hammer. Seriously? What was he doing? Michayla kept shouting "I'm not coming! I'm not coming!" Dad started whispering, rather loudly, "C'mon! C'mon!" Pookie our brave (not) dogg pokes her head out of Kit's sleeping bag (stinking camel) and starts to trot outside to Dad. I had to sit up and cut her off, grabbing th back half of her body and pulling her to the ground. Stupid dog. After a few minutes, Michayla dashed through the tent door and practically slid into her sleeping bag.
This is what happened:
On Michayla's way back to the campsite, from the bathroom, she made eye contact with a bear. Two bright eyes, described as "like Gollum's eyes in Lord of the Rings!", peered at her from the trees. Dad saw the bear too, grabbed the hammer and dutch oven lid, and started banging them together to scare the bear off. The bear didn't seemed phased at first, and then bolted off in the opposit direction. Michayla, still thoroughly freaked, ran back to the potty and hid in the building. Dad started whispering to her "C'mon! C'mon!". She shouted back, "No!" This went on for several minutes before Dad went and got her. She ran back into the tent, and you know what happened after that. Here's a funny little side note: Dad could NOT figure out why Michayla wouldn't leave the bathroom! Duh! It's a cement building! Oh Daddy...
My family has a history with bears. Actually, it's my dad that's the bear magnet. Another camping story, up in Mineral King, also involved a "bear" and a midnight bathroom run.
I was about ten, maybe eleven, years old. Tori and I were in the small yellow tent together, barely fitting, but totally loving the seclusion. We kept warm in our tiny tent, but it was hard to move around without the other person noticing. One night Tori woke up and told me she had to pee. There were no bathrooms nearby (or close enough to go in the middle of the night), so I told her "just go pee in the bushes!" I was tired, grumpy, and getting colder by the minute. She went outside, walked a yard away, and, well... you know. WELL. Dad was in the big tent nearby, and heard a rustling in the bushes. He listens again, making sure he wasn't imagining it. When his suspicion is confirmed, he starts making loud growling noises to scare the "bear" away. Tori, a.k.a. the "bear", thinks that there is a bear behind Mom and Dad's tent, doesn't even take the time to pull up her pants, and jumps back into the tent.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"There's a bear out there!" she said.
"Did you get to pee?" I asked.
"Barely..."
The next morning, Dad and Tori talked to each other about the bear that came through camp last night. It took them a while, but they finally realized that they were both talking to their bear!
Ahh, my family.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Now I KNOW Rexburg hates me....
I almost died on the way to class today. You may think I'm joking, but I am not. Nor am I exaggerating. Well, maybe a tiny bit. But I almost broke a hip at least. That's what I get for being an obedient child of God... Let me explain: I am wearing a skirt today which calls for shoes other than my boots. So I put on my sketcher flats, thinking "these will have more traction than my old tennies and highheels for sure!" LIAR! STUPID! I almost biffed it five times!!! Wayne and I walked together for a bit, and he was perfectly stable in his shoes... gaaahhh not fair. BUT I haven't died yet. And I don't plan to until at least after Devo because what better time to die then right after Devotional?
I have a date on Friday *eek!*. We're going ice skating, which I am terrible at, but I do enjoy it. So the poor boy will get to see me eat ice a few times. Ah well, that's life up here in the 'burg.
We have this test in the Reading Center called the Woodcock. It's extremely intense and tests your reading skills/ level. We give it to every student that comes in here as a way of figuring out where they're at. We also give it to all of our new tutors so that they know how hard it is and how stupid it makes you feel. I like to think of it as our own, personal Reading Center Purgatory. Once you get through that, you can enjoy the perks of being here!
I'm the "Mother" at the reading center, which I like to say is like a Morale Officer. I plan the parties, make the cakes and stuff, as well as decorate the place accordingly. I decorated for Halloween last year and it was a BIG hit. I enjoy the job a lot, but now I'm not quite sure what to do for January..? I did hand turkeys in November (another HUGE success-- I think I work with Kindergartners), and a Christmas tree in December... but what can a person do in January? Ideas, please!!
I have a date on Friday *eek!*. We're going ice skating, which I am terrible at, but I do enjoy it. So the poor boy will get to see me eat ice a few times. Ah well, that's life up here in the 'burg.
We have this test in the Reading Center called the Woodcock. It's extremely intense and tests your reading skills/ level. We give it to every student that comes in here as a way of figuring out where they're at. We also give it to all of our new tutors so that they know how hard it is and how stupid it makes you feel. I like to think of it as our own, personal Reading Center Purgatory. Once you get through that, you can enjoy the perks of being here!
I'm the "Mother" at the reading center, which I like to say is like a Morale Officer. I plan the parties, make the cakes and stuff, as well as decorate the place accordingly. I decorated for Halloween last year and it was a BIG hit. I enjoy the job a lot, but now I'm not quite sure what to do for January..? I did hand turkeys in November (another HUGE success-- I think I work with Kindergartners), and a Christmas tree in December... but what can a person do in January? Ideas, please!!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Rexburg tried to punish me for trying to leave it, but we've made up now. The weather is surprisingly NOT freezing, merely cold, which is a huge relief to those of us coming from warm states. I am still not on the best terms with the dry atmosphere here, but if we work on it, someday we may get together again.
I had a dream the other night that I went into this FABULOUS shop with my sisters. I could get anything I wanted there and my boyfriend would buy it for me (no, I don't have a boyfriend, thus ensuring that this was a dream). Here's the worst part: there was nothing in my size. No joke. There were eights and tens, and sixteens on up-- but no twelves and no fourteens. I sat on the floor and cried. Ah, that's my life. Or my dreams...
School started today. So far, so good. Nothing terrible, but ask me again tomorrow when I have a 7:45 am class.
I had a dream the other night that I went into this FABULOUS shop with my sisters. I could get anything I wanted there and my boyfriend would buy it for me (no, I don't have a boyfriend, thus ensuring that this was a dream). Here's the worst part: there was nothing in my size. No joke. There were eights and tens, and sixteens on up-- but no twelves and no fourteens. I sat on the floor and cried. Ah, that's my life. Or my dreams...
School started today. So far, so good. Nothing terrible, but ask me again tomorrow when I have a 7:45 am class.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Christmasy Time!
So, technically, my holiday is over, but I'll give e'ryone an update anyway.
So, Michayla and I took sixteen hours to get from Provo to Madera. Ick. The trip is usually twelve hours, but we were caught in a snow storm for two hours. Once we got to Vegas we stopped at In-N-Out (manna from heaven!) for lunch and Andre's cousin came out and picked him up. Then the fun began: we sat, ten miles from Primm, hardly moving at all, for almost two hours. The Baker pass had been closed all morning, and barely opened at 11:55 am. It was only 12:45. I saw snowmen built on the center median of the highway where people had probably been sitting quite literally not moving an inch, for hours that morning. We finally got through, Michayla tried to let me drive but nearly had an aneurism stressing about me driving on the ice, so we switched back after a half hour. We finally got home by nine thirty, and I made a nice bed in the spare room. I stuffed myself silly with tangerines off the tree in the yard, snuggled down in my bed and watched some House on DVD. The next few days were nice, riddled with watching some TV, eating yummy food that I didn't have to pay for, and cleaning the house for a party. Sunday I attended my parents' ward where my father, the Bishop, was telling the nativity story, and said that there was "oxygen" by the manger. He then corrected himself with "oxen", but I like to think that there was oxygen around the manger. Maybe I'm just a realist.
The day before Christmas Eve, I went to the dentist, got a cleaning, filling, and mouthgaurd all in one hour. Before that, Michayla and I made Christmas presents for our entire family. Christmas Eve I had no motivation whatsoever and would have been content to just sit at home and watch movies all day. I still didn't feel like I was on vacation, having done a surprising amount of cleaning and shopping over the past couple of days. I was really hoping Mom would just let me lounge around, but I was informed at one p.m. that I had to go to a party at Dr. Yenta's house. "You have a doctor named Dr. Yenta?" I asked my mom. She laughed and said no, her doctor (the same one my parent's have had since my little sister was born), Dr. Bjarnason, had a young, un married son that he wanted some righteous, single young ladies to meet. "Meaning Michayla, right?" I said, tossing the responsability to my older sister. Michayla shook her head and said "Uh no. We're both going." I was looking rather icky and hadn't showered since Monday, so the idea of a party wasn't appealing. Mom told me we both had to go and staying here in our sodden state was not acceptable. So we went... I even showered first. I actually put a lot of thought and effort into how I looked-- anyone who knows me know that I can't pass up a chance to meet someone new and make a good impression. Well, the party was fun and the boy was cute. He was just plain adorable with his little cousins! And there was a family Christmas Pagent that my family had an unusually large role in. All in all, Christmas Eve was great!
Christmas morning was fun, too. Duh. We opened prezzies and I got what I wanted plus some. We all got tickets for Disneyland!! HOOORRAAAYY! We went to Grandma's house on Christmas for the usual activites. Got some Christmas money and knitted two hats while others played Pinochle. We went home, watched one of the new movies, and I went to bed, happy and a little mad at myself. You see, I'd decided that I should call and ask Jon, the Dr.'s son, out. The stupidity of that was that I told my mother, which meant that she was going to hold me to it. The next day I went down and worked at Grandma's and knitted another hat while waiting for Dustin and Tara to show. When they arrived, Mom handed me a phone number and said "If you're going to do it, do it now." I got all nervous, called him up, and we went out the next night. I had a good time; he's very easy to talk to. But I felt a little gipped: I only got an hour to talk to him one on one. Now don't get me wrong, playing boulderdash with his cousins was tres tres amusant. But I wish I'd gotten a little more one on one time. ANYWAY.
Disneyland was a blast. We went on Monday and Tuesday, and it was PACKED! But we had a good time. I'll save those days for another post. Wednesday was another lounging day for me, ending with a quick countdown, some cider, and a movie. New Years day was spent working at Grandma's again, as was the day after. Yesterday we packed up, did laundry, and watched a movie in the theaters. All very fun. Finished another hat.
And today, I'm in Provo. It's freezing and I wish I could go pick a tangerine off the tree. But I'm okay with that. I'm ready for school to start again; I hate that waiting period. And buying books.
Ahvell, I'm done boring you to tears.
So, Michayla and I took sixteen hours to get from Provo to Madera. Ick. The trip is usually twelve hours, but we were caught in a snow storm for two hours. Once we got to Vegas we stopped at In-N-Out (manna from heaven!) for lunch and Andre's cousin came out and picked him up. Then the fun began: we sat, ten miles from Primm, hardly moving at all, for almost two hours. The Baker pass had been closed all morning, and barely opened at 11:55 am. It was only 12:45. I saw snowmen built on the center median of the highway where people had probably been sitting quite literally not moving an inch, for hours that morning. We finally got through, Michayla tried to let me drive but nearly had an aneurism stressing about me driving on the ice, so we switched back after a half hour. We finally got home by nine thirty, and I made a nice bed in the spare room. I stuffed myself silly with tangerines off the tree in the yard, snuggled down in my bed and watched some House on DVD. The next few days were nice, riddled with watching some TV, eating yummy food that I didn't have to pay for, and cleaning the house for a party. Sunday I attended my parents' ward where my father, the Bishop, was telling the nativity story, and said that there was "oxygen" by the manger. He then corrected himself with "oxen", but I like to think that there was oxygen around the manger. Maybe I'm just a realist.
The day before Christmas Eve, I went to the dentist, got a cleaning, filling, and mouthgaurd all in one hour. Before that, Michayla and I made Christmas presents for our entire family. Christmas Eve I had no motivation whatsoever and would have been content to just sit at home and watch movies all day. I still didn't feel like I was on vacation, having done a surprising amount of cleaning and shopping over the past couple of days. I was really hoping Mom would just let me lounge around, but I was informed at one p.m. that I had to go to a party at Dr. Yenta's house. "You have a doctor named Dr. Yenta?" I asked my mom. She laughed and said no, her doctor (the same one my parent's have had since my little sister was born), Dr. Bjarnason, had a young, un married son that he wanted some righteous, single young ladies to meet. "Meaning Michayla, right?" I said, tossing the responsability to my older sister. Michayla shook her head and said "Uh no. We're both going." I was looking rather icky and hadn't showered since Monday, so the idea of a party wasn't appealing. Mom told me we both had to go and staying here in our sodden state was not acceptable. So we went... I even showered first. I actually put a lot of thought and effort into how I looked-- anyone who knows me know that I can't pass up a chance to meet someone new and make a good impression. Well, the party was fun and the boy was cute. He was just plain adorable with his little cousins! And there was a family Christmas Pagent that my family had an unusually large role in. All in all, Christmas Eve was great!
Christmas morning was fun, too. Duh. We opened prezzies and I got what I wanted plus some. We all got tickets for Disneyland!! HOOORRAAAYY! We went to Grandma's house on Christmas for the usual activites. Got some Christmas money and knitted two hats while others played Pinochle. We went home, watched one of the new movies, and I went to bed, happy and a little mad at myself. You see, I'd decided that I should call and ask Jon, the Dr.'s son, out. The stupidity of that was that I told my mother, which meant that she was going to hold me to it. The next day I went down and worked at Grandma's and knitted another hat while waiting for Dustin and Tara to show. When they arrived, Mom handed me a phone number and said "If you're going to do it, do it now." I got all nervous, called him up, and we went out the next night. I had a good time; he's very easy to talk to. But I felt a little gipped: I only got an hour to talk to him one on one. Now don't get me wrong, playing boulderdash with his cousins was tres tres amusant. But I wish I'd gotten a little more one on one time. ANYWAY.
Disneyland was a blast. We went on Monday and Tuesday, and it was PACKED! But we had a good time. I'll save those days for another post. Wednesday was another lounging day for me, ending with a quick countdown, some cider, and a movie. New Years day was spent working at Grandma's again, as was the day after. Yesterday we packed up, did laundry, and watched a movie in the theaters. All very fun. Finished another hat.
And today, I'm in Provo. It's freezing and I wish I could go pick a tangerine off the tree. But I'm okay with that. I'm ready for school to start again; I hate that waiting period. And buying books.
Ahvell, I'm done boring you to tears.
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