un jour de la vie

Un reve realise!

2012-01-15T15:20:00.000-08:00

Chere Soeur Barros....

2012-01-05T11:51:00.000-08:00

Dear Soeur Barros,

Hi, it's Kacey. RM Kacey. How're you doin?

That's a silly question. Of course you're freaking out a little bit. A lot of bit. You don't know what you're going to do for a job, nor for a social life, or, well, your LIFE. Yeah, thought you'd have that one figured out by now, eh? I remember distinctly thinking you had the goal of figuring out a career before coming home. Sorry. And it only becomes more complex once you get back. I know. Bummer.

But don't worry-- life isn't a complete fail when you come home. Heavenly Father does NOT abandon you like you think. He in no way does that. And the Spirit withdrawals that everyone talks about? It's not like you think either. It almost feels gradual.

But leaving the stake president's office without your name tag does kill you. It breaks your heart. It's almost like your identity is held in your hand. C'est triste.

BUT DON'T WORRY!!!! DON'T PANIC!!! Just take your towel (especially because you share bathroom space with a family and not a companion anymore) and hold on for dear life.

You're going to try do as much as you did as a missionary. It's not going to work. It's not as easy to fill your time as a civilian as it is comme missionaire. Et en plus, you're going to be soooo tired. It won't work. Don't try to be a missionary. It's okaaaaayyyy. Plus you'll be so subconsciously depressed that you won't be able to achieve much. So don't stress it. It'll come.

Also, speak the language with as many people as you can. It's going to be crazy how much you'll miss French. You'll be shocked hearing English all the time. You'll have to bite back "Bonjour!" every time you enter an establishment. When people ask you do to things for them, you're going to automatically think, "Now.... how do I say this in French?" Don't worry. That will mostly go away the second month you're home.

You'll talk every day about your mission. It's okay. It has been a huge part of your life. It's just like that summer you worked at Olive Garden with Michayla and Brandon-- all you guys talked about when you weren't at work was work. The same here. Sometimes it annoys people. But don't worry-- you won't notice when it annoys people. So just keep swimming. Heck, it could be worse. You could be making crude jokes or whatnot. See? Life doesn't suck.

It doesn't, you know. But... it is lonely. I know you LOVE Soeur Jorgensen. She is your new very bestest best friend. And then there are the Elders. Gosh you couldn't have asked for a better bunch of young men to spend your last four and a half months with. You had your BFF, Elder Draleau, and your newest chum, Elder Gardner, both of whom you knew in the MTC. How cool to end with them??? Elder Draleau defended your hurt feelings to the entire office staff; Elder Godfrey who DIED when you made him Mr. Intendant and joined your prank crew; Elder Gardner who was the technical genius behind your pranks, and ended up being your biggest ally in a lot of situations; and Elder Buhlmann who loved to tease you and you fake mission romance and provide your apartment with anything it lacked. The AP's???? That's another story.... just let go of it. That will take time, but it's worth it, trust me.

It breaks your heart to leave them. But you won't let yourself cry about it for a while. You won't admit that you love them all to the point of heartbreak. And they will all be in France until April and May. It's okay. They will keep in contact. Just trust me. Have faith. And cry a little. It's okay. It helps. You're not weak for being sad.

The first job you take will help you figure some things out. It will help you see that the Lord let's you make choices-- He will also remind you what He already told you. My recommendation? Listen the first time. Take some risks. But trust Heavenly Father.

Boys are also a different matter here. You're going to be amazed what will happen in your love life. But I don't want to ruin the surprise. That's half the fun. :)

Okay. Good luck. Have faith. Trust the Lord. He knows that you exist, and you're going to feel His love like you've never felt it. Ca ira. La vie est belle. Ne t'inquiete pas. You're going to be FINE!!!!

Don't forget to be grateful. And love. Don't forget to LOVE.

Love,

Kacey January 5 2012.

monday monday

2010-09-27T17:09:00.000-07:00

Behold, the ^afear of the Lord, that is ^bwisdom; and to depart from evil is ^cunderstanding.

That's Job 28:28

Tori, Léo told me that you added him on facebook. He's a funny guy. I love him and his whole family.

Not much to say this week. My MTC chum is being transferred to be with my other MTC chum. Soeur lee and I are together for another transfer and I'm super stoked about that. I think we're getting our hair done by THE Loréal Paris people-- one of the members hooked SOeur Lee up six months ago, and she's hooking us up again this time. It's next weekend. It's free. Yay Paris!

Learned a lot about myself this week. Learned I have a lot of pride. Also learned that I have a lot of potential. One lesson that I have really really learned this week is that you can never really know why someone is the way they are until you talk to them; and even then you can't judge. We found out that this inactive woman we've been trying to reactivate is actually trying to marry her mom's current husband. Ha. Wow. We thought she was gold. Then the Relief Society president that stresses us alllllllll out like crazy (because she's always stressed about something) actually has a family that doesn't talk to her, and all her in laws say that she is the blame for everything bad in their son's life. She lives a hard road. But she has a beautiful family. We're comeing to help her iron this week before her in laws show up, and it kills her pride to let us come. But she's too busy to do it alone, so we're going to help.

I can't list all the lessons I've learned because I don't know how to express them quite yet. So instead, I will send some Sacré-Coeur photos. me and soeur lee at sacré- coeur

me asleep again on the train

Soeur Lee listening to the woman freaking out and sobbing in the apartment hallway. Hahaha, that's actually a good story. So we showed up early to a RDV and the lady wasn't there, so we ended up waiting for her outside her door, when we heard this woman weeping and wailing. Seriuosly, that's the only way to describe it. Then this little girl walks into the hallway and to her own front door, but stops to eaves drop with us. Wow, this girl was pro. She said "I know the daughter here, we play basketball together," as she knocked on the door. Then she interrogated the daughter, but got nothing useful from her. Then she covered the peep hole with her finger and stuck her ear to the door. After her professional eaves dropping, we finally decided that someone in the family had died. When the little girl went into her own apartment, soeur lee smliled and said "that was soooo french." She's right.

Well, love to you all. Better letter next week, I promise!!

soeur barros

ladydadydadydaaaa dadydaaa dady daaaa....

2010-09-20T16:53:00.000-07:00

That was the minuet in G for all of you who can't read Kacey singing. It's okay. Very few can.

yes, go bulldogs go!! We have a member in nour ward who learned to love american college football on his mission. I cornered him at church and said "Est-ce que vous savez qui a gangé la semain dernier?" (do you know who won last week?) He smiled in shame (he knows that the team has gone downhill these last five years). "Ouais.... Fresno State." YES! I KNOW! "oui! Je sais! Nous avons gagné!" He laughed and said that he thought of me when he found out. Halloaaahhhh!!!

The time is far spent.... I shall start with this weeks adventure:

I want everyone here to go to google maps and find the distance between Melun France and Bois les Rois France. Then you will see what we WALKED in the WOODS along the FREEWAY. Yes, this is a good story.

Soeur Lee was our navigator for the day. We had a temple sqaure referral in Bois le Roi. Ahh, Soeur Lee. Well, Soeur knew that we passed signs for Bois le Rois when we took the bus to Fountainbleau, so she thought that it wasn't that far. Her plan: Walk toward Fountainbleau and find a bus stop on the way. Well, we had been walking for about 30 minutes (which is normal) when Soeur Lee remembered another place she saw Bois le rois: on the train schedule. Yes. THe train schedule. Hahaha. Last saturday was such a day from trnasportation Hell that we decided to just walk it and see if we could make it on our own; after all, it was the first stop from Melun. hahahahahaah. First we see forest people that looked like hookers. Seriously. Soeur lee asked me why there were hookers in the woods. Then she realized that they were actually people who slept in the woods. Weirrrrddddd... Then we walked past this old man who was peeing in the woods about 100 meters in. Later he passed us on his moped and winked and made kissing sounds. Only two cars with creepy arab men stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. And after two hours of driving, we made it to the stupid referral, who wasn't even home, and his wife said she was super practicing catholic and that she didn't want us to come by. OOOOOKAY.
Soeur Lee felt super bad. I made her buy me a patisserie. SHe wanted to document this. So included are photos of me being unimpressed by our morning hike, and then me stomping through the mud.

I save soeur lee twice this week. This man kept trying to hit on her on the bus. I walked off very quickly, but he cought her and made her shake his hand (if you had a big scary african man sticking out his hand to shake yours before you could exit, you would too!) I didn't know this was happening, turned around, and saw him clamped onto her hand and leaning in to kiss her, and her pulling her face back. I walked calmly up, grabbed both of their wrists and yanked their hands apart and said "No no no." he was so confused! We got off without further problem. On las monday this man was taking a picture with my companion and told her to kiss him. I started yelling from behind the camera "C'est interdit! C'est interdit!" It's forbidden! it's forbidden! Ah, I save her all the time. But she's from Vegas. She says she's used to it. Teehee. Our lives.

Now for my spiritual thought. it happened last night. We went to this inactive member's house to visit with her and her homebound mother. When we got there, for what wethought would be a calm evening RDV, we saw that her bother and his four children were there too. The place was crazy loud! Then she insisted on making dinner. Holy cow, this was not going how we planned. AND THEN a frere from the bishopric showed up, and this man is on high stress ALL THE TIME. his stress spreads to those of us around him like fire in dry brush. I can feel my forehead wrinkle just thinking about him. So we're just standing in the corner, trying to figure out what to do, when the frere tells us that he's there to give the mother the sacrament. Oh. really? We are invited to stay in the room. We sing a hymn, and then sit in the corner as we watched her middle aged son kneel at her hospital bedside and bless the bread. Wow. I mean. Wow. I can't tell you how strongly the spirit was in that room. I thought maybe it was just because it was her son and that was touching to me. But then when the frere knelt down to bless the water, I felt the spirit hit me again. I can't describe it in any other way than to say that right then and there I knew that the priesthood of God is on the earth, and that I was witnessing a very pure and christlike practice of it. it was amazing. We all stood silently after she finished. She struggled to say thank you (her motor skills are shot), and all I wanted to do was say "no, thank you." Soeur Lee and I both looked at each other and knew what the other was feeling. We whipped out our planners and wrote down our thoughts and feelings. it was amazing.

I love you. I love this Gospel. I know we have a Prophet on the earth.

Love love love

Soeur Kacey Barros

pictures pictures

2010-09-13T16:21:00.000-07:00

This week is one without words. I have had a slow one, so most of this email will be pictures... if I can get this to work.

Number one-- normandie beaches; omaha

number two: the clouds in melun one morning. Crazy crazy cool

me and mona in the Louvre

Okay, a little tidbit of a letter before I send another email with more pictures.

Life is good. We've had a bizarre week, filled with sporadic RDV's and trajé from Satan. Let me tell you about Solo. Solo is a Malagash man that the elders in Meaux sent to us. We met him once and were just blown away. He had met the missionaries in Madagascar and still had his principles of the gospel book. He loves it. He reads out of it with his family. He still ha a pamphlet about Joseph smith. He may know the history better than some members. And we ghave him a BOM in French, but he asked for one in Malagash too. "My children speak really good french, so they will appreciate this. But I woul really love to have one in Malagash." OKAY! As we stood up to leave, he tells us how ecxited he is to RDV's with us at his home with his family, because he tells them that they are a family now, and they will be one after they die! WHAT???!!! THEN, this next RDV... oh man, we thought it was doomed to fail. We had forgotten the Malagash BOM in Paris at District meeting, and hadn't found two other members to teach with us (ah mission rules to keep us safe- his family was still out of town and we can't meet with men alone). So we started our day taking the train into paris, picking up the BOM, taking another train back into Melun, trying to find Solo's apartment, and not finding him there. We stood under the covering for trash cans because it started to rain pretty hard and my companion was already sick. We called him and he answered saying he was on his way, he promised! So we waited some more. Finally he gets there, and we have to have the RDV in the hallway outside his apartment because he's still the only one home. But we give him the Malagash Book of Mormon, and he got really excited. "Thank you! THank you! I have something to show you!" He goes into some room and bcomes back with an OLD family home evening manual in Malagash. He said he uses it with his family too. "I read in this book that the Gospel is preached in the life after this one to people who never got hear about it! I believe it! It's true!" Uh.... what??? It was amazing, because we run into a lot of people who believe that there is no chance after this life to learn of Christ, even for the children in China who never heard of Christ. But HE told us that he read it in a FHE manual and knows it's true! Oh oh oh, it gets better... you see, we decided to give him another chapter to read, because he read the last chapter we gave him. This is how it went down (but in French):
Soeur Lee: Okay Solo. Could you read another chapter before our next meeting?
Solo: Yes yes of course!
Soeur Lee: Okay, how about.... 3 Nephi-
Solo: Chapter 11.
Soeur Lee and Soeur Barros: ..................................... actually, yes. That's what we wanted to give you. How did you know?
Solo: The Holy Spirit told me. I read it already. But I want to read it again, in Malagash.

Yes, my family and friends. He read the chapter we were going to give him because the Holy Ghost told him. Wow. This man is golden in so many ways.

And of course the rest of the week was same old same old. Okay, next email will have more photos.

Just know... I know that this church really is the restored church of Jesus Christ. I know that I am literally a spirit child of my Heavenly Father. I know that He wants me to be happy and that He has a plan for me.

Love love love,

Soeur Barros

PLUS PLUS:

me and my elders at the eiffle tower. It was the first time Elder Draleau and I had seen it, and we've been in France for 4 months!!

me at the arc de triomph. Wow, it was a touristy P day! but totally awesome!!

soeur lee ahead of me on our way to a RDV seriously.

and me walking away from the look out point in Nemours.

She who's winsome, she wins him

2010-09-06T15:54:00.000-07:00

gold hair with a gentle curl...

I'm sorry. the spirit will come, I promise. But I HAVE to start with what happened last night.

I was exhausted last night, and went to sleep really quickly. All of a sudden, at about 11h30, our sonnet goes off. For those of you who don't know, the sonnet is that buzzer that people press when they want us to let them into the building. And ours is loud. It sounds like a fatty fire bell right next to your ear. So I jolt awake (ish) and think it's the morning. "This must be Paul again," was my juimp of logic. Paul one time buzzed us at 7h00 am. Well, I decided to ignore it. Then the sonnet went off again. I was not going to get up. At this time of night (by this point I knew it was night time) it could only be one of the scary men that hit on us during the day, and so I was going to ignore it for as long as it took for them to go away. Soeur Lee, however, was going to peek out and see who it was. She poked her head just over our balcony to see who was buzzing us. She saw someone who kind of looked like César, Paul's brother. But then a man walked away and down the street as the César looking man walked into the building. Soeur Lee thought that must be our creeper. She sat there and made sure the creeper walked all the way down the street before heading back into the bedroom. She wasn't even out of the living room before our doorbell rang. Crap. She stood there and waited, hoping they would go away (i wonder how many people have tried this with us, teehee), but they rang again. The corridor light was off, so she couldn't even look through our peep hole. I was lying in bed thinking "Don't you open that door. Don't you let those creepers know that we are even here," with my blankets up around my face. Finally she asked through the door "C'est qui?" Who is it? And they said "Paul et César." All I hear is this: "Oh SUCK." My companion did NOT know why the Obrecht boys were at our door at 1130 at night, but they were for some reason. She opend the door and there they were, standing in our dark corridor. I hear Paul say, in English "YOU'RE ALIVE!!! YOUR PRESIDENT CALLED US." "You're lying," Sr Lee replies. "Check your phone, he called you first!!" was Paul's response. Soeur Lee, in a fit of madness, I am certain, said "Hey look, I'm wearing my retainer." Really? That was when I decided to come check this out. I wrapped my blanket around myself for modesty and saw that Paul and César were there in pj's and tennis shoes. It turns out that we forgot to call in numbers last night, and left our phone on silent after a RDV. Our District Leader called us like FIVE TIMES. At 1047 they called us for the last time; at 1050 the Zone Leaders called us. At 1100 President Called us. Apparently, he then called our bishop, who gave him Paul's phone number and then called Paul and asked him to go see if we were alive. At 1113 Paul called us. And at about 1125 we opened the door and found them there. Paul told us "You better call your president, right now. You better call him." (he's only been off his mission since like April, so he's still very much so a missionary;° We called him, and he said he was glad we were alive and to make sure and call in our numbers the next morning. I almost died laughing at this. Soeur Lee and I could NOT believe it. Half of the mission thought we were dead, and President Staheli made Paul and César Obrecht come make sure we were alive. César got a HUGE kick out of the whole thing. Paul got over being concerned and then laughed at us. Wow. It was AMAZING. I'm still laughing about it. Because WE DID NOT LET THEM INTO THE BUILDING. THEY SNUCK INTO THE BUILDING WHEN THE "CREEPER" LEFT IT. Soeur Lee told them they were creepy, but thanks for making sure we were alive. Teeheeeeeheeee. And then, as we tried to go back to sleep, she told me "They have so much family all over the Paris region. I served in their cousin's ward for 7 months, and they tell each other everything." "OKay..." "Soeur Barros. I will never live this down. Never." Hahahahahahahaha!!!

Well, our week wasn't all fun and near death experiences. It started out at the Louvre, which I fell in love with. Then we had Zone conference where we got the smack down on rules (kind of... I'm not breaking any, so I'm good). then we had the wordl's slowest day teeheee. We had ONE appointment. ONE. We started the mroning doing passby's, but NO ONE WAS HOME. So we tried to do area book finding. No luck. These people have fallen off the face of the earth. Then, fifteen minutes before the appointment, the lady calls and cancels on us. Soeur Lee kind of snapped and said "FINE. We are GOING HOME, we are writing spiritual thoughts, and we are MAILING THEM TO LESS ACTIVES." Cool. So we did, and then laterr went to CEP, which started 30 minutes late. If I can find the picture, I'll show yuou what our CEP looks like for the first half hour. Always. Then our FLAKEY beyond FLAKEY ward mission leader bailed on us and said "yeah we'll have the meeting tommorrow" which of course we never did. Then our appointment that we usually teach at his house said he needed to do it at the chapel, so our ward mission leader said he couldn't teach with us, but he decided to feed his home teachers instead, who happened to be the only other people we could find to teach with us: Paul and César. We scraped around and found other members to teach with us, but there is NOT good blood between us and our RIDICULOUS ward mssion leader. Because the next night he cancells on us last minute with the excuse that he's just "too tired to drive out there (five minutes by car, people), and he doesn't know this family any way so what's the point of him coming?" Um, hello. This is a part member family that JUST MOVED INTO THE WARD. NO ONE KNOWS THEM.

Ha. Okay.

Life is good here. I had my first baptismal date set. Of course, he tells us five minutes later that he's moving to a city in the GENEVA MISSION. SO, good bye hard work. We will call the elders in the ville you're moving to and telling them to take good care of you.

Ahahaha. The life as a Paris sister missionary.

I love you all. The work is taking a turn here. We're heading for quality not quantity. In fact, I have a short spiritual experience to share:

We went and visisted this woman who is on bed rest this week. Her daughter was there, and she moved in recently to take care of her Mom. It's a terrible terrible situation that will only end in tears, but the daughter finally talked to us. She's been inactive for nearly 15 years. And she just told us everything. Why she left, what's going on in her life. She said she knows she's not really mad at the members... she's mad at God. At one point in the conversation I was overwhelmed with the feeling of love. I knew right then and there that heavenly Father was trying to send His love to this poor woman, but she would not accept it. it was a sad and inspiring moment. So my urge for today is... know that God loves you. he really really does. Let Him love you and bless you in your life. Pray and talk to Him. He wants to talk to you.

I love you. I know is there. I know that He loves each of us uniquely.

Love,
Soeur Kacey Barros

River oh river flow gently for me, such precious cargo you bear...

2010-08-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

I have a fat list and close to no time, so am going to try to do this in an orderly manner.

The louvre didn't happen because we had to wait for elder weed and elder draleau to come pay for my tansport pass thingy, and so I spent the entire p day in a Paris metro station. Not joking. But we're going today. There are no elders to wait for today.

Soeur Lee and I are at war. She doesn't really know it yet, but we are. You see, she tells every story she can about the stupid things I've done or the mean things she does to me to EVERYONE, including the young adults we work with and my district. So, I told a story about her sleep talking is a really flirty way to the JA (jeunes adultes-- young adults) and they LOVED it. So this morning she recorded my singing in the shower. This is WAR.

There are a TON of Africans here in Melun. Some of them only "speak english". Let me tell you how much of a load of crap that is. We had a RDV with a guy named Innocent who "speaks english". Dude, this guy was saying SOMETHING, but it was NOT english. I tried to keep a straight face the whole time. I only broke twice. I turned my laugh into a cough. It totally worked.

Last week our elevator was possesed. it took nearly 5 minutes for it to get to our floor, and then as we got on we saw someone had pressed all the buttons. Jerk. But as we ascended, each time the light went off, it would turn back on, meaning thazt NO ONE was pressing the buttons. Th elevator just kept "pressing the buttons". Freaked me out.

We had a lady slam the door on us. Actually, she passed out and fell onto her door. We saved her life by walking her into her living room and laying her on her couch. As she woke up a little she groaned "see you saturday" (we had just fixed a RDV for saturday). It was amazing. We felt like the Grim Reaper Sisters. Teehee. Life is good down here.

Both of us and our ward mission leader had to give talks yesterday. Our leader said 5 minute talks. But the day before, while doing some service, he told us that our other speaker bailed on us, so we were now all giving 10 minute talks. WHAT??!!!! Je peut pas le faire. But he told me to do it. So Soeur lee and I stayed up late writing talks. I woke up extra early the next morning to translate it. I felt like my legs had turned to jello while I was giving my talk. And after sacrament meeting, Paul, one of the JA (who I am convinced thinks I have self esteem issues because h's frequently telling me how good of a missionary i am, but not in a creepy way), came up to me and said "Wow! That was amazing§ You speak really good french! I don't want to hear you apologizing for your french any more!" I told him it took me an hour and a half to trnaslate a ten minute talk. he kind of frowned and said "don't tell anyone else that." he also said he wanted to give me referrals the whole time I spoke. Excellent. That was the goal. In fact, he practically gave me one right there.

Life is good, God is great, I want to eat a piece of cake.

Teehee.

Off to the louvre (for reals this time, I hope).

Love love love love

Just because I'm loosing doesn't mean I'm lost, doesn't mean I'll stop...

2010-08-16T20:16:00.000-07:00

First off... I have a NEW ADRESS. Yes, praise to the Lord the Almighty the King of creation. I am going to the PARIS area, to a town called MELUN. This is my new address (which I will probably have for three months, so keep it safe)

Soeur Kacey Barros

Les Missionnaires

Melun

FRANCE

So yeah. Totally transferred, which is what I was praying for, for a variety of unpublished reasons, so I'm happy. Also a little sad. There are a few people here that I will miss, and I will tell you why.

First off: My District Leader and his companion. Elder Clawson and Elder Ingram have been serious Godsends in my life here à Caen. Elder Clawson is super duper thoughtful and puts effort and prayer into everything about being a District Leader. Elder Ingram is HILARIOUS and we know a lot of the same people from the MTC, so we always have some kind of inside joke together. His laugh lights up the room, and I can't count how many times I've cried at a District meeting because of him... and I mean the laughing till you cry kind of crying. There is a supreme example of why I love these Elders from this week.

You know How I said they were power rangers? I asked Elder Clawson to show us some of his blackbelt skills before the end of the transfer. Well, he took it to heart, and knowing that I call him and Elder Ingram Powerrangers, he coordinated this HUGE District meeting for me. He has been focusing the DM's around the Christlike attributes you find in Preach My gospel. This past DM, we discussed who Christ really is, and used Scriptures to define different characteristics of Christ. Near the end, he told us he planned an activity (which he always does) to show us how all the attributes work together, and that you can't really have one withouth the others. He then hands me a small photo of the Pink Ranger (whom I always want to be), and a Pink Power Ranger wristband that he made, and a script. He gave EVERYONE a wristband and a photo of the ranger they were, along with a script. He ran out with Elder Ingram (who didn't get to be a power ranger because he had to be the bad guy) and they came back in 5 minutes later in a completely blue outfit (E. Clawson was the blue ranger) and the UGLIEST African outfit ever. They said a few lines and then did a SEVEN MINUTE FIGHT that they had CHOREOGRAPHED THEMSELVES. Elder freaking Clawson and Elder freaking Ingram rock my socks. It was amazing. It was amazing. It was amazing.

When I called to talk about the next district meeting, Elder Clawson "threw a fit". He is pretty bummed that I'm leaving. I'm sad to be leaving him too. I mean, how many sisters are you going to find that still love the Power rangers and Weird Al? There are not too many of us.

Second: Yvonne Gayet. she is my French grandmother. I love her to pieces. She's the ami who is catholic and will never be anything else... well that's what she says. She gives us gross bisous (gross means really big in french) everytime she sees us. When Jean had his health problems, only the soeur checked in on them, and I lean us. We had no idea. We just started stopping by because I don't care who you are, two heart attacks in two weeks earns missionaries coming over to try and help. It turns out, she really just needed someone to come by and talk, because she can't leave Jean home alone, so she's practically homebound. But her daughter, Nichole (whom I will also miss dearly) comes over when she can to help out and let Yvonne out of the house. Their other daughter, Marie-Yvonne, dealt with it by saying "I already have plans to go on vacation; I'll send you a postcard from Bretegne." So we had no idea, but we were the only people calling to check up on them and coming over to visit with them. Jean, who has never opened up to the missionaries, is now really chummy with us. he teases us about being Californian's without tans; and he teases Soeur Woyak and grabbing her fist when she goes in to "pound it". Oh it's too cool to see him open up to us, and pray with us after our spiritual thoughts. Yvonne nearly cried when she found out I was transferred. And she told me that I have been Nichole's favorit, so I should try to see her before I go (which I will). Nichole likes me because I LOVE geneology (she's a historian and does Genology all the time) and because I have strong opinions without forcing them on others. I told Nichole once that I might study law after my mission and she asked me if I agreed with the death penalty. Holy crap. I didn't know how to explain my opinion in French, and I didn't know what I was allowed to say as a missionary. But I handled it well enough, and with some ease. Later she told her Mom that I would be a good lawyer because I said what I thought without offending her. I don't know what she means. But I love her. We're seeing them tomorrow before I leave.

Third: My branch president. He is so motivated when it comes to missionary work. He is getting the ward moving on helping with their fair share of missionary work (which hasn't happened yet, but he"s only been president for 2 months). I have such empathy for him because the last president was super loved, but is moving, so they got a new one (sound familiar?). A lot of people are fighting him on stuff, especially that he relased the Relief Society president who has been president for SEVEN YEARS. I'm not exaggerating. It's true. But he is so kind, has such amazing respect for sister missionaries and includes us in everything. I love his family and I will miss them all.

We had another baptism this weekend. His name is Rachkaël. he is practically a child of record, but he's 9, so we had to teach him. We invited Yvonne to come, so Nichole moved her schedule around so Yvonne could see a "Latter-day saints" baptism. She really really wanted to come and she got to! yay!! An ami at a baptism!!! She loved it, and was very touched by the ceremony, which was just as simple as they come, so I know it was the spirit. This woman comes to church ONCE IN A WHILE (she goes to mass all the time), but everytime she does, she cries because she "feels jesus here." She tells us that she can tell we are truly Christ's church... but she's catholic, and always will be. Gee.
Yvonne also talked the ear off of the old branch president, who preformed the baptism, for seriously, 30 minutes straight. It ried to save him when she started talking about the pedophiliac Catholic priests, but it was Soeur Woyak who finally pried him out of her grasp. It was pretty funny. I love Yvonne.

I know this church is true. I'm sorr my emails haven't been as spiritually uplifting as they used to be. The title of my email gives you a little taste of how my transfer has been. I'll have much more spiritually filled emails this next transfer, I promise. But know that the Church is true. The Book of Mormon is the word of God. The Priesthood is on the earth. Joseph Smith was a prophet called by God. And if all ov that means nothing to you... know that God is there. He's always there for you. No matter what you haven done, or how you feel. KNow that an amazing and perfect being loves you. And He loves you perfectly. Know that. I do.

okay. I'm going to send a picture email. LOVE YOU!!

Soeur Barros

Quand au ciel l'orage grande, viens et calme mon esprit...

2010-08-09T20:12:00.000-07:00

Hello. It's been a wonderful week here in France.

I have had my ups and my downs out here in Caen. This week started kind of funny. Monday night we got a call from our Mission President's wife asking us if we would like to go to a creperie for dinner with her and President. Uh, yes. I personally knew they would call, but Soeur Woyak doubted me. Ha. Doubt no more. It was a little bizarre because I know my mission president reads my letter to him every week and gets reports from my leaders and such, but I don't ever talk to him. So I talked to Soeur Staheli instead. She's very nice and sociable. We got home late that night after eating yummy gallettes and crêpes (oh, my comp can eat galettes! they use a different kind of flour!) and did a little planning. The next day was interviews, my first ever. It was nerve wracking. I went into the office right after Soeur Woyak, and did a little prayer in my head. The interview went just fine. President asked me how everything was going. I said fine. He asked if I wanted to do another transfer with Soeur Woyak. I hesitated. Well, a more accurate way to put it is "it took me 30 seconds to respond." I eventually said "yeah. I could." President raised his eyebrows and said "really? are you sure?" I thought again, for the other half of a minute, and said "yeah. But I would really love to get out of Caen." NOW LET ME EXPLAIN. I love Caen. It's beautiful out here. There are lots of people and tons of farms and countryside areas to go tracting in. I really do. But I might kill myself if I have to stay in this branch. This is my "bleue-ville", which means I started here. So everyone continues to treat me like I speak no French, like I don't know what I'm doing, and like I'm not a missionary. I thought it was all in my head, but Soeur Woyak said she has noticed it too, and that it's a common problem in Bleuevilles. I didn't tell president ALL of that, but I did mention some. Soeur Woyak says I need to call my president and tell him what I told her, because it may not make him transfer me (I'm convinced that the only person President listens to when it comes to transfers is the Lord), but it will be good for him to know when thinking about transfers. Which is what he's doing this week. By this Wednesday he knows who's going where. So, who knows... maybe I'll get transferred. Before I talked to Soeur Woyak about it, we were both convinced that we were gettinga nother transfer here together in caen. But she has this worry that Heavenly Father is going to throw her a curveball, while giving me a break and getting me into a ville where the branch and investigators will treat me like a missionary and not a novice.

Did exchanges this week. I got to go to PARIS. I was super fun, and I got to see Notre Dame. I took pictures, but I haven't gotten them from my temporary companion yet (my camera died before I had a chance to take any). I bought some birthday pressies, (well, just one) and got to spend a few nights in a fourman apartment. I saw soeur smart (the sister that did my first in-field contacting activity with me) and we had a lovely chat. She's a very nice, very upperclass woman. So, if anyone has anything mean to say about Elizabeth Smart, they can take it up with me. She was very kind and interested in my life, especially the men in my life (of which i have none), which makes me think she's got a man in her life too. I meahn, I always want to hear about my girlfriends' guys when I want to talk about my own. I didn't talk to her companion a lot- mostly because she fell asleep and wasn't really interested in talking to me. My temporary companion was AWESOME. She's going to BYUI and so we know a TON of the same people. It was super nice having her around for a day.

It was Soeur woyaks birthday this friday. I love birthadays! I already know, however, that I do NOT want to have a birthday like hers. I mean, it was great. We went out to our Branch President's home and weeded in his garden and pruned his apple tree for service, then ate a gluten free lunch (his wife has the same disease as Soeur Woyak) and played with adorable french children. Then, that afternoon/evening, we drove out into the countryside to drop off a WWII thing for an american and had a lovely, however unproductive, RDV. it was very nice. I wanted to bang my head against a wall several times. So, here's how I am going to spedn my birthday: I am going to schedule many many RDV's, and if no one wants to have RDV's, I'm going to knock on doors all day and tell no one it is my birthday. I'm not going to talk about the expensive things my mother sent me (or didn't), and I'm not going to let myself forget why I'm here. As my family knows, my brithday is never ever celebrated on my brithday. It is usually spread out over several days, because, for some unknown reason, October 6 is a very busy and alwys overscheduled day. It really doesn't bother me. I hate doing big things for my birthday. They always blow up in my face. And this way, I get to have little pieces of birthday for like a week. Less pressure on one day. So yes, that is how I am doing my birthday. I'm working hard.

Sorry this is such a lame email. It's been a long hard week.

Blessings from the week:
-Paris was crazy hard, but I'm not scared of it anymore. If I ever serve there, I'll know that I can do it.
-My final legality visit went without a hiccup. I am now a completely legal resident of france
-Jean, the husband of one of our amis, survived his second heart attack (kind of) in two weeks.

Nichole, Jean, Yvonne, Sr Woyak

-I got to garden and have a 4 year old teach me some french
-Two of my favorite people in the world still thank Heavenly Father for all their blessings while one of them, Jean, is in and out of the hospital.
-We made some goals!!
- Sandrine is reading her book of Mormon again!
-My family loves me.
-My companion wants me to stay so badly she's scared that I'll get transferred (htat whole if you want it really bad it's bound to not happen. But she's always telling me she usually gets what she wants and that she's spoiled. Maybe that principle still applies in transfers?)
-France is beautiful
-I ate Kraft Mac and Cheese in Paris
-I screamed in frustration for the first time in nearly 5 months (my family knows that's a miracle).
-Heavenly Father loves us all individually, and does all he can to help us
-We have a Savior, whom we could not progress without
-Mail systems suck, but it means every day I get to have more hope
-I still want to be a missionary

I love you all. I miss you terribly. It sometimes breaks my heart to have such good experiences here and know that you can't have them with me. I'll take more pictures.

Love

Soeur Kacey Barros

ô vaillants guerriers d'Israël, espoir de notre salut

2010-08-02T20:07:00.000-07:00

Poo. I get here and can think of nothing to say. I guess I can start with some pictures.

Number one is le cathedral Saint-Pierre. It's the BIG one here in Caen. It's funny because it's getting "restored" (I have been watching this thing for 2 months had have NEVER seen anyone working on it. EVER) and making the outside stones a white color. It's going to be beautiful... if people actually work on it. I mean it, zero progress. BUT, the other reason I took the photo was because it looked fake. I walk through he castle to get home from church, and I always get this view of Saint Pierre, and it looks amazing every night. Especially with the evening clouds behind it.

Next is Elder Clason and his birthday present from the soeurs. We asked him what he wanted us to make for food tache at District meeting (it was our turn). He said he loved cookie dough--NOT COOKIES, but cookie dough. So Soeur Woyak made him cookie dough. It was his 21st birthday the day after district meeting, and so we HAD to do something for it. He, unfortunately, couldn't wait until after lunch to eat it. He ate half of it before, and later, while holding his stomach, loaned and said "after 21 years you think I'd learn to listen to my mom and not spoil my lunch." Teehee. he's such a good guy. He's ALSO a PowerRanger. He's 6'3" (I asked. Short people like me are allowed to do that), has a stinking BLACKBELT in karate, and plays piano. Sounds like a power ranger to me. (he also met TOMMY the old White Ranger , whom I used to be in love with. I nearly died when Elder CLawson told me that Tommy came to his Karate Studio to do a demonstration back in the 90's). THEN, I was telling Elder Ingram, his companion, while Elder Clawson was giving Patricia her baptismal interview, that he has a powerranger for a senior companion. I told him it's because he has a black belt. Then elder ingram, who is still very much a short teenaged kid, tells me "so do I. Do I get to be a powerranger?" I laughed. Then realized he was serious. I almost died again. So now I know that there are two Power Rangers in my district. It's amazing.

Next is more Normandie clouds. THey look painted into the sky most of the time.

Next is Patricia at her BAPTISM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh man, it was awesome. She was super nervous about her interview, but Elder Clawson apparently did a wonderful job. She kept raving about him. Both of them were nervous, in fact, because this was Elder Clawson's first baptismal interview. But he got her to say the opening prayer, which is phenomenal because she'll never pray in front of anyone. But we told her this might happen. So she was ready and said her prayer. Elder Clawson told us later that it was the prayer that has brought him closest to tears, it was so full of faith and hope. We finally got to experience that at our next RDV with her, and I know I felt the same way. I did cry. But I cry a lot, so it's no big. But that day, right after her interview, we asked her to try on some jumpsuits to see which one would fit. She came out of the bathroom in her white jumpsuit and Soeur Woyak and I nearly cried. We knew right then that she was getting baptized. She was ready. There was no more room for doubts because the Spirit just filled our hearts. Patricia was so happy all week. We got to see her nearly every day, which was really good for her morale and for ours. When the day actually came, wow. It sucked. The day, I mean. Samedei sports got cancelled, but no one told the soeurs (uggggggggg), the ami we wanted to come to church was out of town, the programs hadn't gotten printed, and my companion had a panic attack over stressing about it. I was really chill (i'm not lying), and knew things would work out. I mean, I spent four hours writing a talk in French about the Gift of the Holy Ghost, so I knew my part would be fine. And guess what? It was. She got to the church early, got dressed, and and we started recieving everyone. A huge group came, which was great because Patricia never goes to all 3 hours of church. She has serious social anxiety issues, so Relief Society scares her. But she smiled and talked to everyone who came to congratulate her. Sam, our Branch President's 6 year old son, RAAAAAANNNNNN up to Patricia, grabbed her hand and said "It's my Dad that's baptizing you." She looked at me, having no idea who this small loud and incredibly adorable child was, and I nodded, so she said "Oui." Sam nodded and said "Je sais!" (I know!) and ran off. I think that's when she started relaxing. But I still had to stay by her side, she said. The first talk went just fine, but it was really weird. Okay, not fine, but okay. SO I got super nervous. But I don't remember my talk at all. I just know that SOeur Woyak said it was really good, which is great because she's not a shallow e compliment giver, and the Branch Pres told me he was suprised that that was my first talk in France. "Now, I'll ask my counselors to have you give another one". Great.

Tha actual Baptism was so amazing. When she started walking into the font I could feel the Spirit so strongly. And when she came out of the water, I started to cry. One of my favorite members, Elisabeth Desterbois (i love her because she is a lot like Michayla) gave me a big hug. We went and met her at the top of the stairs of the font and she gave me and Soeur Woyak these giant, soaking wet hugs. It was amazing. She stood there and thanked us over and over, and all we could say was "it wasn't us. It was you and the Lord." It was amazing. The church is true. She got the Gift of the Holy Ghost the next day and it was amazing.

It's worth it, you know. If she's the only baptism I got to help prepare, then I'm okay. Because seeing her change, seeing her glow. Wow wow woww; It was worth it.

I love you all. Write to me. Pray for me and my companion.

Love
Soeur Barros

Who wants to live forever?

2010-07-26T20:01:00.000-07:00

Hallllloooooooooo real world!! How are you?? I miss you all!!!!

I shall start this week's email with a funny story that happened not long after I wrote last weeks email. My companion was looking for clear packing tape here, which is called "scotch" in french (you know, like scotch tape?). Well, she had to hunt down an employee, and finally finds one in the alcoholic beverages corner of the store (yes, corner, an aisle would not suffice in france). She tried to explain what she was looking for and said "it's like scotch, but thicker!" The man looked at her and his face looked like he finally understood her question. He said "oh! You mean Whisky!"

Ha; No. But still funny!!!

I have the world's best district leader ever. Every night we call him to tell him one of our miracles, and he alsways receives them with great enthusiasm and laughter (our miracles always have a funny part in them). On tuesday we made him try a new patissery, and he loved it. Then, we needed him to buy timbres for my medical visit the next day. Usually, you can buy them at a Tabac, which is kind of like an american liquer store/ convenience store. We hunted all over town to find these stupid timbres, but couldn't find them. We had to go to a RDV and Elder Clawson, my DL, was going to catch a train back to Alençon, his ville. But what does he do? Without even thinking about it, he loks at his companion and says, "Elder Ingram, do you mind if we catch the 6 oclock train and stay here in caen to buy timbres?" Elder Ingram apparently didn't mind, and they just missed the NEXT TWO TRAINS to help us, while we rushed off to a RDV. And you know what? That night when we called to see if he found some, all he could say were really positive things about the afternoon and told us a few small miracles that happened that evening in Caen. God bless people like Elder Clawson; the world needs more of them.

My companion and I are doing well. One thing we love is inside jokes, and it's always tricky around other people. But one stoyr she loved that I told her was the "horses eat berries" story. She loves the phrase so much she says she's going to start using it. So, everyone hear this: If you hear somone on the street, or on TV, or in a lovie, say "horses eat berries" in response to a non sequiter, know that I, Kacey Barros, started that when I was TEN. I don't care if someone else claims that. My whole family can back me up.
Gosh I really hiope it does spread all over the place and ends up in a movie or something. I'll feel very cool.

I went to synagogue this week. Yup, Jewish church. One of the people the Elders teach English to here is a Rabbi. He ninvited us all to syngagogue. it was pretty much rockin. Everyone else was totally bored and had headaches after all the hourse of hebrew singing, including my poor companion, but I loved it. I could have sat there all morning. And then, after that, we went to an African Christian activity that one of our amis had organized and had invited us to. We thought if we went to her thing she would come to one of ours. So we went, and it was crazy weird/ cool. Very christian group. Very loud. And there were only 5 people there. SOOO loud. People wandered around the room shouting their prayers to the heavens. Soeru Woyak and I just stood there (they made us stand up), and smiled blankely at NO ONE, because everyone was praying with their eyes closed and wandering around the room. It's a wonder no one ran into anything.

Our amis are doing well. The one that had the African Revival type deal was Scholar, and she is still, slowly but surely, reading the book of Mormon. She still has concerns and questions, but she's not stopping, like she did every other time. Patricia is getting BAPTIZED this saturday, and I have to give a talk (eek! i always forget about that thing!) Yan has kind of plateaud. But I blame that on the fact that her friend saw her book of mormon and told her to stay away from us, that we're a cult, and that we believe a whole bunch of crap that we don't believe. She came to our RDV, told us what happened, and asked us if any of it was true. She kept saying "And wghen she told me that, I thought ' the soeurs never told me that!'" And we explained that it was because it's not true. She's going to need time, space, and faith. Ah Yan. You have such potential.

My companion discovered that she might be allergic to gluton. SO I told her that if she wanted to, I' support her in cutting out all gluton by participating with her in the diet change. She's super greatful, and I'm like "whatev. I've done it before." Well, practially, anyway. So I made us a calander to put stickers on when we make it a whole day without gluton. I nemaed it our calendrier de nourriture. I tried to put gluton first, but ended up putting glutton on accident. Which is kind of funny because I've been eating everything I can like crazy to fill the whole that bread and crazckers and stuff like that left in my stomach.

The work is coming. It's hard sometimes to want to be here for another 16 months, but I can do it. Oh yeah, Saturday was my 4 month anniversary of being a missionary. Coincidentally, Elder Draleau called us that day, asking Soeur Woyak where an old ami lives. Luckily it was my day to be the phone master, so I got to talk to him for a bit. I told him happy anniversary us, and he said i can't believe we're both still alive. Moi non plus. Me neither. but we are. And he said something like "only 14 more to go for you!" but that's not true. I'm going home the late transfer, because sister mlissionaries hit the 18 month mark in the middle of transfers, and so I'm supposedly going home on the 11 of october next year, and so I actually have 15 months left. Yeah. I'm tired.

Okay. Love you all. Pray for me. Pray for Michayla. And write me.

Sister Kacey Barros

As tu besoin d'aide mon bras t'est offert

2010-07-19T19:54:00.000-07:00

NEW TRANSFER. This transfer, I decided to write a line from some of my favorite french hymns on each day of my planner. The subject of this letter is today's line, and it's from how firm a foundation. the literal translations is about "you need help, my arm is offered to you". So, if you need help, know that His arm is offered to you. I know He's waiting to help you. He's been helping me, and I haven't even done anything.

What an odd way to start an email.

Let's start with goodbyes. We had some sad goodbyes this week with soeur gappmaier. She was in this ridiculous state of denial, and so told no one on Sunday that she was mutated. SO I told some people that I knew would have their hearts broken if they didn't get to say goodbye. She didn't mind. Oh man, that girl. And I don't say mutated to be mean. To say to transfer in french is "muter" and the noun transfer is "mutation". So I stopped trying to keep them straight and just say mutated. Everyone here knows what I mean. So yes, Sr Gappmaier was mutated (gosh I feel like an Xman when I say that teehee) and we had to say goodbye to a certain family. Yvonne and Nichole are some amis that got really attached to Sr Gappmaier and her previous compaion, and just about died when they had to say goodbye to Sr Houtz as I got transferred in. In fact, they did not want to like me, and kept asking if they could call the mission home and ask for sr Houtz to stay. Well, they met me and instantly fell in love. I'm not saying that to boast; to the contrary in fact. It's because of the spirit. And when we found out SR gappmaier was mutated, we decided that this would be good for Yvonne (who is practicing catholic and loves us and the church) to see that it's not really us she loves, but the spirit. We visited Yvonne and her husband was there, and of course nichole (who is her 56 year old daughter who is druid and really interesting to teach but really isn't interested in the gospel and is always at the house when we teach Yvonne), and we ate bretegne cake and cherries. Nichole gave me her geneology and the history of Bretegne in a booklet thing she made because she knows I'm really into geneology and so is she. Yvonne and Nichole gave Gapp a very old wooden bretegne box with a brass carving on top. They said they loved her and wished her luck. We bore our testimonies and gave them a card that Sr G wrote an indepth testimony of the gospel in, and asked if we could sing them a song. They said yes. We sang "each life that touches ours for good". Yvonne and Nichole started crying. I cried and I'm still in Caen!!! They told us they loved us. Yvonne and Nichole still want to be taught, even with "La Nouvelle". It was sweet. The spirit was strong. And I got excited for the work in Caen.

Soeur Gappmaier left early Wednesday morning, and Sr Woyak, ma nouvelle, called and said " i should get into caen around 2ish, but they haven't bought my tickets yet, so I'll call you when I switch trains in Paris." I was like "okay. I'm sitting here home alone all day, I might as well clean the apatment (that the elders never cleaned before moving) while I"m waiting." So I studied, deep cleaned the apartment, and took a nap. But I never got a phone call. Hmm. That makes me nervous. So I show up at 2 at the gare anyway, and there my new companion is with her luggage. She made it alivee and well, no phone call necessary. Yay me!!

Sr Woyak is very different from Sr gappmaier, but similar in some aspects. We have been doing a lot of talking since she got here and made a list of things that we wanted to accomplish this next transfer. Her last two transfers were miserable as she had major companionship issues. Really major. I know because I did exchanges in their ville. And, as not miserable as this last transfer was for me, it was in no way easy. The work suffered here in Caen last transfer for one reason or another, and Sr gappmaier and I didn't work all that efficiently because she was used to doing things a certain way, and when I suggested change she often felt like change meant she had inadequecies. I got very emotionally exhausted with this, so I stop suggesting things and just went with the flow. So my transfer wasn't miserable by any any means; but it was difficult. So we mmade a list of things we wished we could have done these last few transfers (she's only on her fourth). We made a great list and the transfer started out witha BANG. Our number one thing that we missed and really wanted to do was work by the spirit. Sure, we need to plan, but we also need to follow the spirit. So we did that this week. And it was phenomenal. We had an ami with a baptismal date find the courage to have more faith and overcame a huge obstacle. We invited Yan to baptism, and she accepted!! We didn't plan either of those things, but they happened becasue we were both listening for the spirit. I feel unity again. I feel fire again! We doubled last weeks numbers in four days! We have worked hard, and just followed the spirit, even if it didn't make sense. And there were such benedictions from that. I don't have the time to explain it azll, but the Lord really is leading His work here in Caen. I know it will get harder, but I also know that the Lord will support me in some way; He's done it before, He'll do it again. But know that Yan has committed to baptism once she has a testimony, and that Patricia no longer has obstacles stopping her baptism, and that some of our non actives will be active once again. And if the Lord tells you to walk instead of take the tram, don't think of it as a waste of time; just enjoy the walking, and He just might through an ami that needed a scripture into your path.

Funny story for the week. it's been gettnig warmer here in Caen. During the middle of the day it gets HOT here, but by 6h00 the ocean wind comes and everything cools down again. but we just bought fans and have been keeping the windows open all day and night. Well, after cleaning, I hung the mop up to dry on the balcony/ window sill. We were studying when I heard flap flap flap at the window. I knew pidgeons fly around all the time up there, so i didn't even notice. But then it closer and stopped all of a sudden. I leaned over and saw that a PIGEON had landed on the mop and was practically in the apartment. I stood up and yelled "get off of my MOP!", scaring Sr Woyak and the pigeon. I put the mop away, but our apartment was too hot to close the window. Haahaaahaaaaaa. Later that night I was talking to ssr woyak during planning and we were sitting pretty close to each other. All of a sudden I hear flap flap flap again and look over to see if the pigeon was back. Yes, she was. But she decided to invite herself in. YES. A PIGEON FLEW INTO MY APARTMENT. I SCREAMED and scared poor sr woyak again and she screamed and the pigeon flipped out, continued flapping and flew right out again. I flipped out, wondering how many times this must have happened while we were out, when sr woyak pointed out that probably never because even though the windows are often open, the curtains are always closed to decrease the flies. So that qwas the FIRSt and LAST time I will have a pigeon in my apartment. Oh man I flipped out.

We had three amis come to church this sunday. Patricia came, Yan came (for the third time in a row) and YVONNE came. She sat by me, TOOK NOTES on all the talks, and while we sang the closing hymn (teach me to walk in the light), she started crying. She said she knows that this church really is CHrist's church. She knows it. But she cant leave the catholic church. She's 78 and has been Catholic her whole life, there's no way she'll turn her back on it, she tells us. But she feels the spirit at church, loves us, and has said several times that she wants to join our church. But we know that she doesn't understand the committment that is, and she won't get baptized because she already was when she was a baby. Yvonne may be an eternal ami, but I'm okay with that. Because when she comes to church she feels the spirit. She loves the spirit we have. She once told us that she "found Jesus Christ" in our church. It makes me smile and weep to think of her. Yvonne, I love you.

Yan isn't ready to be baptiwed she tells us, but she really wants to raise her family in the church, when she has one. Oh man. Peopleare so funny sometimes.

Well, I love you all. Keep writing. DAD. STOP WRITING TO MY RUE DE LE HAVRE ADRESS. You're SOOOOO lucky my old landlord let me have that letter. SO STOP IT.
Pray for continued success in Caen.

love love love
Soeur Barros

PS the french postal service sucks, just in case you're wondering.

And the world keeps turning round and round

2010-07-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

So, I decided to start with my mass email this week. And I shall start with

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TORI AND DAD!!!!!! I told America happy birthday yesterday, and now it's your turn. Besides, it was your birthday here like nine hours before your brithday even thought about starting in the USA. Suckahs.

You know who else is a suckah? Guess who moved three weeks ago and just got transferred? HA! Not me! My pauvre colleguee did. Teeheee. I have not finished unpacking my clothing yet, and I've been waiting to hear about transfers. Well, Soeur Gappmaier couldn't do it any longer and unpacked ALLLLLLLLL of her stuff last week. I'm still smiling about it. Teeheeeheee. But I am sad thazt she's leaving Déja. I love my mission Mom, and she's going all the way to Brussells on wednesday, which is good because that's the mission she got called to and she has never actually served in belgium. I guess she gets to now. She's really nervous. Me too. Why? Because I'm not getting a new senior compaion. I'm getting a co-companion, which means we're both senior companion. I've also been informed that that means I will never be Junior companion again. Yeah. I got one whole transfer to be lead, and now I'm going to lead with someone, or even lead someone else later, far earlier than I ever wanted to. I don't know if I should be pleased or quoi. Mostly I'm just confused, a little scared, and Okay... I'm a bit excited. I've met my new companion deja. She is currently in ST Quentin. Yup, the ville I did exchanges in. We met at zone conference and then as we switched companions in Paris. She came to Caen when I went up north, which is good because now some of our amis have met her and so that awkward "hi I'm new" phase is over with ... at least for some of our amis. So Yeah. Soeur Barros. Transfer Deux. Senior companion (ish).

What is the Lord thinking?????????

But on a less stressfull/ bizarre/ exciting note, I met a very nice american man on Saturday. He was getting on the tram, saw our nametags, and started chatting it up with us in ENGLISH. Well, okay, I knew he was american before he even stepped onto the tram-- we have a look about us, ya know? He told us some of his best friend are Mormon, and he really admires what we're doing out here. He admires the sacrifices we make for the Lord. WHAT????!!!! It was SOOOOOOO nice to hear someone say that!!!! We both got off at the gare (train station), and we the sisters had the plan to go to a cyber cafe across the street to see the transfers email in case one of us got transferred. The nice American asked us if we could give him a hand buying his train ticket, and we're like, sure, why not. We've done that before, so it shouldnt take all that long. Well it's a good thing we did because there ended up being NO trains open because it's summer break here, and the summer vacation is SACRED to the French. We found a way to get him where he needed to go, so he begged us to let him buy our lunch. We finally relented (no really, he begged), and he sat there and talked to us some more. Him and I talked about US history (he's a high school histtory teacher/ track coach in Louisiana) and LA history. I told him that Someone is looking out for him, because we're never on that tram at that time on that day-- we were just going to see who got transferred. He said he totally believed that, and that he was going to thank God that night for having met us. He gave us his name and email adress and said that any time we came to Louisiana to email him and he'll take us for begnés (i think that's how you spell it) (ha, and I told him that i really wanted to eat begnés in New orleans some day, so I think that's why he said begnés). He tried to hug me (why do people keep doing that???) but I had to explain that we don't hug men (or much else really) while on our missions. So he gave us some high fives and handshakes (ah american hand shakes-- they are different you know), and caught his train. We called him our tender mercy, because people have been exceptionally mean to us this week, telling us we are most definitely a cult. Ha, did you know that the way to say religion in French is culte, and the way to say cult is secte? Yup, the meanings are changed here. So really, it's "secte" that I hear all the time. Fun Fun.

Life isn't bad here in Caen. One of our amis is having a really tought time, but suprise suprise, it started when she began working on sundays instead of going to church. We're working really hard to help her see that connection, but she has her agency. Curses. And Yan is still progressing, but we're never sure how much she really understands. She keeps most of the commandments, at least around us, but her reading of the Book of Mormon has slowed down. But now she ha this friend that actually just finished reading the book of Mormon and told her he's going to start over soon and read it all again. We're hoping that helps motivate her; she is sooo funny when she tells us these types of things. We ask her for referrals, and she says stuff like "oh you know what? I really should bring this person to our next RDV!" Wow. We just wanted a name and phone number, but we'll take it.

The finding is sllooooowwwwiiiing down. We have started "spiritual finding" like dustin told me about in one of his letters; during our porting, we only knock on the doors that we feel like knocking on. It's like regular finding without all the rejection. We talk to people for much longer now, and we even had someone set a RDV with us. But he cancelled like two hours later. Elder Oaks said something interesting in the last Priesthood session: our faith is in Jesus Christ, and not in outcomes. So it makes me wonder-- is my faith in Jesus Christ or in outcomes? Think about that...

Well, time is up. I'll try to send photos in another email. Je vous aime!!!

Soeur Barros

Get down with the sickness

2010-06-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

Which is how I feel. This week has been bizarre, but good none the less. But still bizarre. And I'm glad it's over.

Well, who knows where to start. I can start with the sickness, which, of course, I was again. It really started with the fact that two saturdays ago I sprained my foot. Yup, I limped around Caen for a week. And then exchanges were this week, so I got really nervous that I would be dead weight in St Quentin with my foot; alas, I decided to call the senior missionary here who is a doctor and ask him what's what. Well yes, I did sprain my foot. And yes, I need to take lots of ibuprofin and ice my foot two or three times a day. Super. I'm so accident prone here. WELL it gets better. That night, during a lesson (that ended with me saying if she wasnt going to read thhe book of mormon after meeting with missionaries for several years, we were wasting each other's time), I realized that I was getting a fever. Then during District meeting, I became certain. We drug ourselves home from the church, my companion sick with a cold that I so generously gave her, and realized that we still had to clean our old apartment before giving the propriator the keys on wednesday, I almost cried. I got changed quickly and we wandered over to "oldy" and started cleaning. The elders came over to help us clean and get rid of some old things, and one of them told us that we were going to get a mini missionary next transfer. That's when I cried for reals. I was cleaning that STUPID toilet and realized that we would have another person sleeing on the floor (who knows where because i"m not exaggerating when I say there is no space), and another blue. I am not ready for that. Ugh. We later figured out that that was his idea of a joke, and we are not getting a mini missionary (super bad timing on his part). So i'm seriously dead here, and it's almost 9 and I still havent packed for exchanges, and I ask Sr Gappmaier when we're going to leave for the night. And she says "when we're done." I cried again, because there was no way we were going to finish at her pace (shes a ridiculous perfectionsist) and with me being sick. She said fine lets go. the rest of my night was worse. I went to bed at 915 and woke up at 1045 with such a high fever my bed felt like it was on fire, even 20 minutes after I woke up and sat in the living room. I woke up every hour and tried to drink some water, but everything i drank went right throughme. It was really bad. I had some fun feeverish hallucinations, and realized I was going to see Elder Draleau the next day, so there was no way I was calling the elder doctor twice in one day, especially if he was going to tell me that i had to stay in Caen. So I sucked it up, cleaned for two hours the next day, went to a RDV, and took the train to Paris, where I saw (while waiting for the St Quentin Seours to show up for the switch) over HALF of my MTC GROUP!!!! They were all there just getting back from Brussels and getting their Belge legality. Oh I nearly died. THey were doing SOOOO well!! I love how well they all treat me. I saw Elder Gull and Elder Terry and said "oh I'm so happy to see You!!" and then I hear somone say "what about me?" and there was Elder Portwood standing there. And behind Him, Elder Smith. And behind him, Elder Burnside. Oh it was better than Christmas. And then, I got on a train to go see my BFF from the MTC. It was awesome.
My whole trip to St Quentin was amazing. I saw Elder Draleau mt first night. I of course looked like DEATH, because on the train I started overheatin again and had no water to drink at all. Then the busses stop running at 7 pm in ST Q (its a very very small town), so then we had to walk to this member's house to do service with the elders. I was nearly dead when Elder D welcomed me into the house and I think I might have scared everyone when I practically collapsed on the couch. But they got me water and, for some reason, cherries. Then I spent the evening talking psychology with this member who used to be a counselor, and talking about missionary life/ work with elder draleau. I'm really not a huge fan of his companion, but that's okay because my temporary companion is good buddies with him. Then I got to see the elders again several more times the next day because we had to exchange materials, and then we saw each other on the street and took most of our dinner hour talking. It was sooo amazing. It was even better aith the work: all of our appointments were there, we had a boyfriend of one of our inactives listen to a lesson from the other room (cool beans) and found someone interested in the gospel while doing some contacting. It was just a good misionary day.

Caen has been having some opposition. There is opposition in all things, I know. Well, we've been feeling it here in Caen. The elders are acting weird again, and our ami with a baptism date had a melt down during our lesson (which she rescheduled three times-- that's really unlike her). We were trying to teach the loi de chastité, which she has been taught like 5 times, and she was being ORNERY. I didn't get it. She kept saying things like "yeah, but..." But what???? Well, she finally said what she thought about the law of chastity-- that it's okay to sleep with someone but not sleep around like a hooker. I didn't know what to say. SHe's supposed to get baptised in a month, and she still hasn't kicked her live in boyfriend out. I testified that the law of chastity is for everyone, not just slutty women, and that if heavenly Father says it's what we need to do, then it's what we need to do. Then she had a break down and told us that God abandoned her this week, and she didnt do anything wrong. Why are there these trials in her life if she's doing what's right?? If her family is happy, then she'll be happy, she tells us, and that's all she wants out of life. Oh man, I do NOT know what to do. SO I sat there and cried with her (I cried a lot this week), and told her that the lesson to learn now is patience. She said "I've done nothing wrong! I've been praying for God to be with me, but He's not!" We told her that Joseph Smith felt the same way. We read the scriptures where Jospeh asks the Lord "Oh God, where art thou?". I think it helpd, but only time will tell. Satan has been working very hard on this poor woman.
On the other hand, the happy side of opposition, Yan is still progressing! We taught her the Word of Wisdom, and she accepted it! I love how she accepts truth. She said it would be hard, but she can tell it will be worth it. Yes, Yan. it will be. And she came to church!! She sat through all 3 hours and said she really really liked it, even though it got a little long at the end (we had the first speaker take like 40 minutes-- punk-- so we went past time). She cant wait to come back. She says she is converting and it makes me soo happy.

A funny side note: my SNCF (the french version of amtrak) reduction card has me named Kathleen Kacey. when the woman read my driveer's license, I guess Kacey is never used as a name here, so she thought it was my last name. Funny. Kathleen Kacey. Teehee.

Well the time is far spent. there are other things to do. Like go to the H&M down the street from my house. I love you all. Transfers are next week. I'm probably staying in Caen, but who knows... maybe I'll get to move.

Okay... I love You SOOOOOOOOO much.

Love Kacey

PS-- MARK- I love your emails, but you better not think that will suffice. I'm expecting a real live letter one of these days. I just sent you one this last week, so now you really owe me.

MOM AND DAD- I sent a letter last week, and Im sending a small package with prezzies in it today, so look for them. I have ZERO idea how long it will take

And the rain comes tumbling down

2010-06-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

So first things first: we have a pregnant less active (non active is actually more accurate) that weve decided to buy little things for and leave notes because she hangs up on us all the time. Dear pregnant sister in laws: what does a pregnant woman want? thank you much for your aide.

Wow that was uber french. Uber is actually german. My comp told me.

So yeah, we do a lot of less/ non active work. One lady is named marina. She has a son named moïse (moses in french). Moïse cant sit still to save his life. So he would do something and she would tell him to go stand against the wall, look at the wall and "refleche de quoi tu as faites!" think about what you have done. Hahaha. Hes seriously three years old. So the first time, he decided licking the wall would be the best thing to do while "thinking about what he had done". Hahahaha!!!! I totally didnt pay attention to what was going on. So Marina saqw him licking the wall. Yelled at him again. Teehee. Then he started sliding up and down the wall. Oh yeah, that had my attention for a while (man i am such a bad missionary sometimes). So she caught him. He behaved for a while, and I decided to start participating and paying attention to the lesson. Well, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Moïse was suddenly behind the speakers of the TV. Oh boy, I couldnt resist a peak. HAAHAHAHAHAHA. He had the wires from the speakers in his mouth and was chewing on them like a rat. Oh man, I looked him in th eye and shook my head like "your mom is going to kill you." But, for the first time, Marina didnt notice. Soeur Gappmaier did. So we both sat and looked at Moïse chewing on wires while marina told us the same story she tells us every time. Finally, as I started shaking my head again she noticed. OH BOY HE WAS IN TROUBLE. After we left the apartment complex, soeur Gapp and i laughed so hard I thought I was going to wet myself. It was sooooo nfunny. We would calm down, and be okay for a second. But then Sr Gappmaier would point at me and say "Now think about what you have done!!" and wed be off again. Teeheeee.

I love inactives. There is always something fun gonig on in their homes. And theyh feed us. I had this giant four course meal at a nonpracts home (non practicing member/ inactive) on wednesday night. But it was really late, and she wouldnt let us leave, and i had to eat it all. So guess who was sick during zone conference? Moi. Encore. Yup. But we went anyway because we really really wanted to. PLUS there was going to be three other elders that were in the MTC with me at the conference. SO we HAD to go, I NEEDED to go. It of course, was raining when we got to paris, and our train was 25 minutes late, so we were late. I got really nervouse that wed walk in and everyone would stare at us, but that didnt happen. In fact, I was really more sad that there wouldnt be talking time before it started now, and I really rreally wanted to talk to my elders. THough I did see elder smith/ know it all (remember him?) at the train station. His face lit up like a lightbulb when he saw me, ripping his hand out of his pocketo shake mine. That calmed me down a l:ittle bit, and made me feel much more at home. we were walking up the courtyard to the church building, we saw through the windows that the place was just full of socializing missionaries, waiting for all of the late trains to arrive. I whispered to soeur gappmaier "i'm nervouse that they wont be as excited to see me as i am to see them". As I said that, I saw a tall red head inside waving at me like his life dpended on it. I about jumped in the air it made me so happy to see Elder Draleau waving at me. If any of you look back at the emails Ive sent, elder draleua was one of my closest chums in the MTC. He was the one I was most nervouse about forgetting me, mostly because I apparently doubt how much people like me. But yes, he saw me through the window and wavzed like crazy. It was all uphill from there. I got to see three missionaries from my MTC group, and I loved each of them for different reasons. And yes, I almost threw up, but we did sing. All my elders came up afterward and told me how luch they loved it. At the end of the day when we rode home, Sr gappmaier said "i dont think you should worry anymore; its obvious they love you. A lot."

AH love. I love love.

Okay, a couple of spiritual thoughts from this very loved missionary:

We had a RDV with this really religious girl my comp and her old comp ffound on the street. She gave them her version of a pass along card and So they gave her a pamphlet. We finally met on Saturday night. She had previously told the soeur missionaries that she knew about joseph smith and believed hed had a vision. So the first thing we did was ask her how much she knew about joseph smith. BAD IDEA. She then went off for 45 minutes about the bible and promising a restoration and all kinds of weird half truths. It was ridicxulous; not what she believed, but how she treatd us. She said things like "that is wrong. Do you know why? No you dont, so this is why..." Seriously. And when we found a scripture to try and start teaching, she ignored us, and said we really didnt know our stuff. In fact, at one point, as we searched our scriptures, she said "if you are going to talk about the Word, you should come prepared." HAHAHAHA. But oh man, when she started telling us that the first vision of Joseph Smith was actually a vision from the Devil, thats when I knew that we were wasting our time. It was so interesting, because I had nothing in my head. Nothing. And I realized that it was the Spirit telling me that she isnt going to listen, so dont waste your words or engery. So I told her our time was up (because it really really was) and asked if I could finish by bearing my testimony. I then bore a strong and solemn witness that Joseph Smith did see God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. I KNOW that through Joseph Smith Christ restored HIS gospel upon the earth. And I KNOW that Christ is my Saviour, Redeemer and the Son of God. The spirit just radiated from me as I said that (which doesnt happen all that often). Then she went off telling me that I can have my prophet and she'll take hers. So my companion bore second witness. QWe cut her off from further lecturing us and ended with a prayer. Instead of taking the tram, we took 40 minutes to walk home we were so frustrated. Sr Gappmaier felt so dumb,; she told me, becuase she didnt know half those scriptures this woman had used. I said I did, but she was using them completely out of context. SO then my comp felt even stupider because the new girl knew more than her. And thats whe I realized something: I'm not here to bible bash. I'm not here to prove people wrong. I'm here to give them the opportunity to learn about the Gospel of Jesus Christ and come unto Him. I'm here to testify. And thats what I did.

I know this really is the gospel of Jesus Christ. I KNOW it. I KNOW Joseph Smith was a prophet called by God, and that we have a living prophet today. I Know it. I feel it. I live It.

I know it. Thats why I am out here.

TImes up. I love you all. SOOOOOOOO much. Please write to me. Please. It gets lonely being a stranger in a strange land.

Je vous aime.

Soeur Kacey Barros

Fils d'israel en avant

2010-06-07T19:24:00.000-07:00

veillons prions en tout temps.....

Hope of isreal. in french. im sure it is spelled differently, but I really really don't care. Im sorry about the emails not coming last week, i didnt know the photos were too big. im going to try and figure out how to take smaller photos, but honestly, i dont understand my camera. i swear it speaks a different language than me. In fact, if i had to choose between 789674587876 MPGs language and french, id understand the french much better. On the plus side i forgot my camera cord this week so no photos. But extra next week, I promise. Okay, on to some of the less interesting parts of my letter...

We're moving. its a serious pain in the butt, because i unpacked less than two weeks ago. Not only that but it means i have to leave huebert behind, and i was getting so used to him. Poor buddy, he'll have to make new friends. Maybe he'll convert them... becuase we sure as heck arent. GAHHHHHHHHHHH........ they told me this would be hard, but i really had no idea. Can anyone? I imagine thats how life with heavenly father was. "yeah Ill totally do it" but then we get here to earth and are like "crap. really?" But then we have faith and all gets better. Oh yeah, but moving. We are moving into the aparetment the elders have now because its smaller than the new one (they are the zone leaders so they are often hosting other elders in their place, so i GUESS they need the bigger one). But we are allowed to stand in the doorway and look into their place/ our future home. Its sooo tiny, but im really okay with that because its actually quite cozy. Im looking forward to ironing on the dryer. BUT at least we'll still have the dryer. Count your blessings. OH MAN though (something funny... everyone here speaks at least a little english, but the phrase they all love to say is "of man!" It's freaking hilarious), the stairs up to the apartment are treacherous. Like, i could easily kill someone just by asking them to go down the stairs to get the mail. No joke. Hey, thats actually not a bad idea..... jk, guys, jk. I love my co^mpanion, Soeur Gappmeir. We get along really really well. She has the same sense of humor as me. Like, she made me listen to one of our investigators (we say "ami de l'église" in french, so if i say ami youll get it) answering machine. I guess she didnt understand what was going on because when it got to the part where it says "please leave a message for" and then you say your first and last name on the message? well she did NOT get it, so she said "Pierrette..... foquet?" I swear its hilarious, like shes not actually sure that her last name is foquet. I love pierrette. Shes hard to understand, but not because of the french. She seriously changes subjects like shell die in three minutes so she has to say everything on her mind.

France is wonderful. Im starting to genuinely love it and not just tell myself that its france so I have to love it. There are little things that make this place so wonderful. Like the fact that everyone has a dog; shoot, i swear some of the dogs have dogs!!! But it's nice. And you know that part on Ratatouille where the girl chef tells the red head that its the sound of a baguette that shows if its good or not?? Guess what. Its true. Yup. Yumm, im getting hungry just thinking about (i ate that bread for you. Sorry you had to miss it).

Some miracles for the week: i experienced the gift of tongues. We gave a lesson with a member present earlier this week with an african woman named Scholar. I guess they usually have lessons in english, but our member, Rodolph, didnt know enough english to express himself, so half of it was french. Miracle: i didnt realize he was speaking french until the lesson was almost over. No joke. It was like "oh. This isnt english. But.... i know what hes saying...." Seriousement. It was awesome!!!!! Other miracle: half of our RDV (RDV = rendez vous = appointments) fruged on us (meaning they stood us up THATS FOR YOU SOUER ROUBICEK. IN PARIS WE SAY FRUGED) and so we went porting (door to doors). No one cared. No one would talk to us. Except the people who wanted to yell at us and tell us that there cant be a god because there are so meny bad people in the world. Seriousement? Get over that, people have the ability to make choices and do stupid things. So this man yells at us for fifteen minutes, my companion is getting really irritated, and I say "okay. well thats your choice. I know that God loves you. Good bye." and we walked off. We then started discussing how there are people prepared for us, and there are people who arent. And we cant let that man get to us because he wasnt prepared for us. As wa are walking and saying this, we see a very cute old man shutting his gate in his front yard. We both think "cool, lets talk to him," and then he says "hello!!" In english. We find out he is french, teaches german and english litterature to inmates and wants to come to our english class. We tell him what time we hold it, and he says "oh no. I have to work. Well, maybe another time, when you find you have some free time, we could get together and speak about religion in english." HAHAHA.... what?? Did he just set a RDV with US to talk about religion??? "its just an exchange, mind you. I am a very devoute catholique." SERIOUSEMENT???? We set up a RDV and we're teaching him tonight!!! Its crazy those tender mercies!!!

I shall end this letter by saying i have met people who are looking fo the gospel and love their lord and savior, but will not open the book of mormon to save their lives.... even though doing that would save them. Its a sad thing to see someone who wants to be close to god but wont accept the best way to do it. Als bt telling a story about drunks in the Courtyard:

We got angry with the elders one evening, and decided to talk to them the next day. So that night, I hear people yelling, hollaring, and singing in the courtyard outside my window. In my half awake state, I think its the elders. I seriously thought the elders were mad at us too and were outside our window yelmling at us. Nope. Just some drunks. Gotta love em; unless they try to sit in your lap (true story) and then they are creepy.

OH YEAH. Happy french memorial day. THere were a ton of veterans herer in the normandy area for DDay. It was such an honor to see it. DONT I HAVE A RELATIVE WHO STORMED NORMANDY ON DDAY?? TELL ME THEIR NAME PLEASE!!!! DAD THAT MEANS YOU.

Love, avec beaucoup d'amour et esperence,

Soeur Barros

PS zone conference this week. Guess whos singing in it? Soeur Gapp et moi. Hopefully I wont get sick like last time and have to bail out. Anyway, its the olive tree ( i did NOT chose this song.... cliche) and it remindes me of kit playing it at home. I liss you and love you all soooo much.

bienvenu a france

2010-05-31T19:18:00.000-07:00

this letter is going to take FOREVER parceque im not used to french keybords. Si'l vous plaît, forgive my typos.

D'accord. FIRST THINGS FIRST: You know how every time someone told me that elizabzeth smart is in my mission i'd say . Well. Guess what. shes not. BUTTTTT she is my father which means that she is the one who took me on my first contacting activity. So she taught me how to contact. Who was right? pretty much me. elder draleau m'a dit (told me) "how do you do it???? you're always right!!!!!!!" (he lost a bet to me at the mtc, which is why you should never gamble..... especially with me... teehee). I told him its cause im a soeur.

AND if you sent a dear elder to me on fri, sat, sun or mon, i did NOT get it. We got to the airport before the dear elders arrived.

france is beautiful, but it scares me to death. after i bawled ny eyes out saying goodbye to my district that isnt coming to paris, i had to do it again at the mission home, which was even harder, because now im leaving with someone i dont actually know. it was way weird, and we missed our train out of paris. oh yeah, my first area is CAEN. im in the normandie zone. WHICH MEANS DAD-- or grandma, please tell me the name of my ancestor that stormed the beaches of normandie. I hear it will be good to know with the people here. And before i forget, my mission address is
LES MISSIONAIRES
Sr. Kacey Barros
23 rue du onze novembre
F-78110, Le Vésinet
FRANCE
I miss my little mtc family all the time, its so sad. it was almost as bad as saying good bye to my real family. But i'll get to see some of them next week at zone conference. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My comfort blanket!!!!!!!!! GOSH I HATE THIS KEYBOARD. The frenchprobably think i'm crazy, yelling at a computer under my breath. Some things never change, eh? My companion is swiss german, but she lived in utah for 5 years, so she speaks pretty amazing and accent free english. Good and bad. Because i know i can speak french to her, but also english, so i slip back into it pretty easily. When we went finding that first time, I seriously said nothing. I might say but then the person would respond and it was seriously qilsuhfgikqzenfvbjkngkqdfjkqlkjzerfubvbnzlqdkjfghquzhv,d

im so impressed by the young single adults here; they are small but strong. they love teasing me, but apparently thats normal.

JUST SO YOU KNOW-- it has taken me 30 min to write what there already is. Crud.

Boo radley has a cousin living in my ceiling. BUT our apartment is fairly nice, especially for france standards. We have a washer and a dryer in our apt, as well as a living room, dining room, and kitchen, study room, and bedroom. by the way, i mean they are all different rooms. But yes, there is DEFINITELY a rat living in the ceiling of the apt. My pauvre companion tried to tell the district once, but when everyone was there, he wasnt moving and everyone thought she was crazy. But i have heard him, and i know hubert exists. Hes rather active. Boo could teach him a thing or two. But yes, the apt is nice. and the view is amazing--- see the phot's. There is one of my view from the study room at night, and the other is my bedroom view during the day.

I dont cry every day, but i still get really homesick for, guess............... the mtc. I miss everyone and everything. But not the food; the food seriously is amazing here. we eat quiche and crepes and such. I had my first patisserie.......... YUMMMMMMMMMMMM. Theyre called religeouse, which is why we have a tradition of eating them. "religiouse" is the word for someone who has dedicated their life to the service of god, like a priest or nun. People often ask us if thats what we are. But no, thats not exactly right. I didnt care either way; just let me eat more patisseries!!!! There is a photo of that in this email i believe.

My adapter has already died. No joke.

I love you all so much. please write to me. My little family is now spread all over france, and they cant suppliment your absence here anymore. So i needc letters. Everytime i see something, i think "i cant wait to share this with my family!!!!" Ill mail more photos, i promise.

To close on a more missionary note--- we were street contacting (which i hate) and ran into this lady with a little girl. Mu companion started talking to her about life, and the woman, named elodie, said "i think life is better after trials. Thats what makes life worth it." of course i couldnt understand what was going on.... so i talked to her daughter while soeur gappmeir talked to elodie. I askedr her her name and she whispered "lola". I told her i loved that name. then we talked about what kind of chocolate we like, and i told her americaine chocolate is not very good compared to french chocolate. Then she got out her book and read to me. It was adorable. AND her mom made an appointment to get taught by us. SCOOOOORRRREEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! UGH!! the nu,bers here are so low, even lower than i thought they would be. But since getting here, weve already improved the numbers. Its amazing. But im learning to have faith. Okay, one last histoire.
We were on the bus yesterday evening, going to a members home for dinner, and I tried talking to a lady. I did it all by myself (finally) and when we stopped talking about france and onto religion, she turned me down flat by saying "i dont talk about philosophy and religion. its personnelle." UIh okay. So i said, okay, and went to my seat. But i really wanted to tell her what God is to me. So I got up after a few minutes and asked if i could share how i feel about god. She said sure, so I sat there and bore my testimony of how i know god lives and that he loves each of us individually and specifically. She didnt really care, but i felt better after doing it. She said "i know you feel the need to share that because youre a missionary," and i said "i need to share it because its true. I felt this way before my mission, and i aill feel this way after it too. I know its all true. But I respect your desire not to discuss your own beliefs, so Ill go. Thank you." So, no success there (yet) but i love the fact that i finally got up the courage to testify. and i did it all on my own.

Its true, you know. God really does love each of you. He knows all your weaknesses and faults, and still loves you with a perfect love.

This is hard, but i will be able to do it if i act and have faith.

I love you.

Kacey

Father in Heaven has sent me to you

2010-05-21T19:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this might be a little bit scattered, but that's how it goes.

First off: Daddy. Delta changed their rules again, so I have to pay for one of my bags on the flight on monday. It's "just" $50 (just???? I get an $8 allowance each week?!?!!!), but I've been stocking up on other things. Just to be safe, there should be some money in my savings account. Could you transfer at least $50 from my savings to my checking? THANKS!!!!!

Second order of business: Okay, mom. I only had les temps to skim your email (because we print in the other lab-- don't worry, I'll print it after i write this one), but as far as I know, we "leave" the MTC (let's be honest-- there are at least 10 of us leaving at that time. No way we're leaving on time), at 1:30 MDT. Probably won't get there until 2:30, 2:45, and then we have to get through security and junk. So I think, a safe time is between 3:00 and 3:00 MDT, or 2:00 and 2:30 your time. Hope that works out. And if not, I'll call dad's office until someone answers the home phone. because I am GETTING my phone call.

So yeah, traveling is a pain already. But TRES TRES TRES exciting!!!! Packing (gag) is actually not that bad (which is why it was a gag and not a vomit) (did you know the verb "to vomit" in french is "vomir"... and to say "I will throw up in your fac e is "je vomirai a votre visage". Just in case you wanted to know). And I'm already assigned a new companionship. You see, I'm the only sister in our travel group, so I have to join one of the elder's companionship. Why? Mostly so I don't get left behind and/ or run away with someone/ myself. I talked to our group leader (Elder Alexander-- he totally rocks) and said "Who am I with?" and his response was... "uhhhhhhhhhhhh........." His companion said "You should just be part of our companionship." CHOUTTE!!!! Sweet!!!! They were who I wanted to be with (because the pickins are a little slim in my group). That worked out nicely. I already committed Elder Draleau (Elder Alexander's companion) to helping me with my luggage, but then I discovered a wonderful thing called luggage straps! Maybe I'll make him pull it anyway... to build character.

I'm ready to get out there. I'm ready to go. I want to teach and preach and work as missionaries doooooooooooooo!!!! The first thing we do after getting picked up at the airport is go contacting in a major traffic (people traffic) area. But I might have some issues with that. not because I'm not ready but..... J'ai perdu ma voix. I've lost my voice. It dissappeared on Tuesday, and on wednesday my companion made me go to the doctor. The doctor told me not to talk anymore and take lots of pain killers. Drink water, eat fruits and veggies, and (my favey part) TAKE NAPS!!!! SANCTIONED NAP TAKING!!!!!! My LIFE IS COMPlETE!!!!! So I've been doing that--- not better. not really. Okay, so a little better. But Wednesday was TRC day, which is when we teach. And I couldn't talk? It was one of the weirdest TRC's I've ever had. The guy couldn't really hear me, and I really shouldn't have been talking, so he stopped talking to me. And when we asked him questions, he'd go off on some weird tangent. here's my favorite part: I asked him "Quel etait le plus important partie des lecons des missionaires... a votre avis?" (what was the most important part of the missionary lessons, in your opinion? he was a "recent convert") "Qu'est-ce qu avez vous remarque?" (what did you notice?). He said "How I changed my life?" in response. Vraiment? I tried to rephrase it like three times, and gave up saying "Oui. Celui." Yeah. That. Weird, but a reality check-- guess what!! Investigators won't always want to talk about what you want to talk about!!! My companion thought he was weird too. Weirdy.

Today was temple day, and it was amazing. Most of our zone made it to the service, including our teacher (on accident-- but i love her and she's amazing). I saw all my elders after the service and started bawling, telling them they had to come to paris with me (most of them aren't-- they're going to toulouse). Elder Nicholes shook my hand so hard because we can't hug, and we both started crying. I sat on a couch, and he gave me the scriptures to read. he turned to Doctrine and Covenants 25 and said "This is you, Soeur Barros." he's our scripture man; has a scripture for every occasion. Gosh I love my elders. I'm getting all choked up about it now, just remembering.

We cannot lose this war against satan. With missionaries like the ones here, we cannot lose. We cannot lose. God will triumph.

I KNOW this gospel is true. It's the only way to be happy! I can't wait to share it with everyone in my mission, everyone that I will ever meet.

Keep up the good work. I feel everyone's love and support.

Love Kacey

PS--- President Monson's daughter spoke to us, Sheri Dew did the other time, and half of the Young Women's presidency. AS WELL AS ELDER HOLLAND. No time now, but I promise to tell all later!!!!

And TORI-- Elder nicholes loves the letter. Keep em coming.

Because He lives...

2010-05-07T19:17:00.000-07:00

Because He rose in mighty triumph from the grave

I put my trust in Him and seek to follow Him in Faith

Because He lives

My heart is filled with peace amid a world of fear

And through the darkness of the night I rest in Him secure

Because He lives

Those are some of the lyrics of the song Elder McTernan and I are auditioning with on Thursday. It's so beautiful. Some of the notes are really high for me, but the elder that recuited (actually, it's more like he drafted) us is an amazing music teacher, and worked with me. He made me turn my back as we did an excercise-- turn my back so that I couldn't see the piano. As we finished, he asked what note I thought that last one (the highest one) was. And I said "Uhhh... E E flat?" He smiled. My companion (his partner in the excercise crime) and said-- "Acutally, High F sharp. So don't you tell me you can't do a D sharp anymore. Because you can." That was really really cool. Because here's the nub and gist of my week:

It was like Hell.

I knew the amazingness of last week wouldn't last forever. But I never thought it would only be a week. Saturday was sooo difficult, and I can't even pin it down to a single event. But I couldn't reach a happy moment. Then Elder McTernan (who is a convert, and really amazing, but SERIOUSLY??) said that the entire Mormon Culture is intolerant and ignorant of other religions. HONNETMENT?? I got on him for that, saying that many people in the church are soooo busy learning their OWN religion as a child, that you can't expect them to be scholars on other religions as well! (Again, his mother has a doctrate in theology. Remember where he is coming from-- a home where everyone knows a lot about many religions.) Then he looked at me like I was ten years old and said "Look, I'm not trying to argue with you, so don't get mad at me." Then I said I would love to continue this conversation another time (not-- because he totally had his opinion, and if I've learned anything about this elder, it's that he doesn't change his mind very easily), but the spirit wasn't there. And I said "I refuse to discuss this without the spirit." So here's what I would say if I ever actually did talk to him about this: "Every institute of religion, every church school, and anywhere else you find an organized church education system, offers a 'Religions of the World' class. I've taken it. I loved it. I developed a love and admiration for all types of relations. not to mention the fact that my father was raised by a catholic father, and a christian mother, and none of my dad's side of the family are Mormon. Another fact is that I was a minority at my high school where only 10 of my 700 people graduating class were Mormon. So yeah, what was it you said about our ignorance and intolerance of other religions?"

Jerk.

Oh it gets better. Then I had another missionary grill me and my companion right before we taught a lesson, and I broke down crying. THEN at Milestone, Elder McTernan was paired up to teach with me. We were supposed to take five minutes each. he taught first, and then left me with two minutes. Seriously?

Yuck.

And then the rest of the week can be summarized in one word: Discouraged. I felt so discouraged all week. The day arrived where we were taught the last thing I learned at school in French. I've reached my wall. I now sit in class, conjugating tense after tense before I get to the one I want. Seriously. I was trying to say "We will be better" and I said "Nous sommes-- serions--- soyons---- SERONS." This is no exaggeration. It makes me sick every time it happens. It doesn't help that we've had a new teacher. And he's a guy. And he's quiet. And everything he says is in french. i understand every word he says *when it's not mumbled*, but not the connotation, which blew up in both of our faces one day. He came in and wrote down the morning's schedule as usuall, but added "les soucis de Frere Welch". The worries of Frere welch? What's that all about? Well. The first thing he brought up as a worry was "mes pantalones." Crap. Crap crap crap. He wears his pants waaaaayyyy too low, and Soeur wood and I thought it was inappropriate. So we vented about it to our female teacher and his old class. And all we could think was "The other elders told him the soeurs think his pants are too low." He stared right at us, and I started to blush. He asked the class "pensez-vous que...(my pants are too low in French)". And i just had to say it. "OUI! ILS SONT!" And I blushed. Because then he started, uhm,m, jostling them about? I can't think of a good english adjective for that. But that made it even more awkward. Then I blushed some more, and then I cried. Silently at first, but he later asked me to read out loud and I couldn't because I was crying to hard. So yeah. That was my day.

But things got better at least once a day. And that made it all worth it. I don't really have time for much else to write.

Wow, that was a way french sentence.

But just know, that something happened today that made me cry. I sat in the chapel of the temple because we missed the only session we could make, and i sat there and bawled. So my companion and I did something else, and guess what? I saw someone I'd had an issue with that morning, and they apologized to me. If I hadn't missed that session, even though I wanted so badly to go, I wouldn't have had that apology given to me, and my day would be worse. And I would be worse for it.

So I can't tell now, but I know all these hard things are here for a reason. I have lessons to learn from them. And I'll be someone I couldn't be without them. And that gives me comfort, and hope, and excitment.

I love this gospel. And even though I really wanted to be home like 27 times this week, I love being here.

Beaucoup d'amour.

Soeur Kacey Barros

Tell me the stories of Jesus... April 30 2010

2010-04-30T19:07:00.000-07:00

I have a few matters of business to attend to:

premierment- this shift button sucks. so if my lack of capitalization offends, don't blame me.

deuxiem- thank you so much for the letter, aunt annette. it is the only one I've gotten since last thursday. YUP.

troisiem-- mom and dad-- my tape is in the mail. it's a micro tape, so be aware. but IT'S COMING. I do love you. I promise. I put a lot of tiem and effort into that tape. please love love love it.

and four--- I just read michayla's letter. I don't have a first name either, anymore. I dreamt that a boy I used to date was dating me again. And he kept calling me soeur barros. and I never corrected him. because that's my name. CASE in point: I have an elder that comes to me and says "tell me a story about a girl named suzy," or "tell me a story about a girl named ashley." I love this game. So one time, Elder D was in on our game. His companion asked me "tell me a story about a girl named..............." and Elder d said "Kacey." I was so weirded out by that. He knew me on facebook before we came here, so he remembered my name. But it was weird to hear someone use my name. Even weirder from an elder. But I still love my letters sent to my first name :)

This week has been crazy. Why? Because I've learned how to teach with the spirit. A lot of these experiences are too sacred and too long to write in an email, but I will try to give you a sample:

Elder know-it-all? Well, we all started excluding him. He called a meeting right after I wrote last weeks email, and he sat there and cried, telling us how hard he was working to be part of our group. It touched me so much. I made room for him in my heart. the next night, our teacher Soeur Roubicek (who is from clovis and goes to ben pitman's ward.... CRAZY) had us all write down serious questions we had about life. No one thought these questions would be read, but when she started explaining the activity, we all panicked. We were each going to get one "randomly" and we were going to pray and use scriptures to answer the question of our classmate. I got elder-know-it-alls. And I was SOOOOOOO excited. I prayed, and I studied scriptures, trying to follow the promptings of the spirit. By the end of prep time, I stil didn't have an answer. But I had faith. So it came my turn to teach elder know it all, and that's when it all got amazing. As I shared the scriptures with him, the spirit became super strong, teaching me things I hadn't known before. As I spoke, the answer to his question came out of my mouth without me even realizing it. He sat there and cried, saying I was an answer to a prayer. I knew it too. And I wouldn't trade anything for that experience. I later spoke with my teacher, and she started crying too. She said "I knew which one was his. My first thought was "Give it to Soeur Barros." And then I was like "UHHHHH no! Those two hate each other!" But then I felt it again. So I gave you his. And as you taught, I KNEW the Lord had set this up. He KNEW you were the one who needed to do this." And we both cried. Later, elder know it all (his name is Smith, actually) told me that no one else could have delivered that message with such force and humility. And that he loves me (as a sister) because everything I do is a testimony of the Lord. WHAT????!?!?!?! We used to HATE each other! But now, I can't even remember what that felt like. I can't even IMAGINE what it felt like to hate him.

Another time, we taught our teacher. Not while she played a role, but it was her. And we did it in French. I can't remember what I said, but I remember that my thoughts were clearly expressed. And that the spirit was there. And we taught her needs.

Next was the TRC (where we teach actors who speak our language). It was our first time in French, and it was amazing. We taught things we hadn't prepared in French, because the spirit told us to. They asked about my Dad's conversion story, and I told a lot of it, IN FRENCH. I've never told his story in French!!! WHAT????

It's amazing. I love it. I can NOT WAIT to get to France and teach people with the spirit. I know that the Lord knows what everyone needs, and that if I'm humble and serving Him, He will lead me to those who are ready. he will tell me what to say.

I love this gospel so much. It's sooooo true. I have felt my savior's love all week, and I'm trying to do everything I can to keep that feeling.

Pray for me. I feel your prayers and your love.

Love love love

Soeur Barros.

PS--- DAD!!!!!! PLEASE write down your conversion story and send it to me!!! The one I told was a very brief and edited version, but I really really want the whole thing. I love you. Do it. Kay thanks!

Good Mornin' good MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRNIN

2010-04-23T19:14:00.000-07:00

We've talked the whole night through. Good mornin, good mornin to you!

I never know where to start with these things...

Okay, before I forget, AGAIN, Tyler Reist is here with me. I've had a friend arrive each week that I was at the MTC. First was Me. Duh. And then it was Jenny... and thenTyler... and then Nyssa.... and now Michelle. So that's been fun. Nyssa is actually my voisine (neighbor) here. It's rockin.

MOM AND DAD. I PROMISE there is a tape coming to you SOON!!! I have a special musical number prepared by my zone to record for you, but they refuse to do it until SUnday.

Speaking of special musical numbers, you have to audition to do one for a Fireside or Devotional or even Relief Society. They are held every thursday from 10h to 12h, with the MTC music coordinator and President Smith (the MTC mission president)'s wife. An elder, Elder Portwood, in my zone/ branch came up to me on Wednesday and asked if I would accompany him playing the violin. I'm like "Choutte. I'll do it!" I looked at the music and gasped a little in my head. "Uhmm, is this for sunday?" I ask him. "I was actually thinking for auditions tomorrow." THen I laughed. Hard. Glancing at his face, I realized he was serious. "Oh. Well, let me try to play it later tonight and I'll tell you if I can do that." He shrugged and said "Cool. If not, we can just do it for church on Sunday." I nod my head and say "Sure." Well, I couldn't master it by the next morning, nor could I fake it (which is my specialty--- and hey, if you had three 16th note runs in every measure you'd cut half of it out too). So we played it on Sunday. And we rocked. So on Wednesday night, like two days ago, he's all "Wanna audition this thursday?" I did. We go into auditions and sit quietly while the old lady version of the American Idol judges talks to the previous auditionees. We notice that all the people in the room are elders from our zone. I knew they were preparing a musical number, but I hadn't heard it yet. Well, I'm glad we got to auditions early, because it was AAAAAMAZING. Oh my word, I could NOT wipe the smile off my face. And like three of my favorite elders were in the group, so I was even prouder than a mom at a T-ball game! The spirit was so strong as they sang, all 8 of them, acapella "Beautiful Savior." It gave me such chills. And the time they are preforming is during a devotional for NEW missionaries, so if I hadn't heard it then, I never would have.

ANYWAY.

SO next it's mine and Elder Portwood's turn. The old lady AI judge person said our names, just to make sure she could pronounce them, in case we passed auditions. She said "Baaahh rose?" And I said "That works." And she said "I want to know how YOU say it." Well, I've been saying it with the Portuguese pronunciation for almost a year now, so I told her "Bah hose." (two r's make an H sound in portuguese-- ah the joys of having brazilian roommates). The old lady judge, and President Smith's wife both jump up. "YOU'RE PORTUGUESE!!!" they shouted. Sis Smith said "I haven't heard that name in AGES!" ANd old lady judge said "OH! I can't believe I didn't remember that pronunciation!" Then I told them my family was from the Azores and they got so excited. My nerves went away, and we played well. We'll be doing a musical number in about two weeks. I don't know if it's devotional or Fireside yet.

Life is good. Elders can be dumb. I got really mad at all of them this week. There is a sister missionary here that allllll the elders think is hot, and I believe part of that is because she wears extremely tight clothing. Well, I heard one, FROM MY DISTRICT, say something about her. Ohhhh, you don't talk about sister missionaries that way, I don't care how tight fitted her clothing is. I whipped around and said "If I hear one more thing like that come out of your mouth about a sister missionaire, ESPECIALLY that one, you'll live to regret it." I didn't yell. But I think I had death in my eyes, because he hasn't said anything like that around me since. Thought, her flirting doesn't help much. Have chairty, Kacey. Have charity.

The spirit has been so strong lately. We have a fake investigator that we make appointments with and teach in French. Our first appointment was HARD, mostly because we crammed and didn't really prepare. This week was GREAT: the spirit was strong and we started to really get to know him. Soeur Wood and I spent our entire companionship study time trying to figure out how to help him. OH my gosh it was great. We also discussed how our district has become really passive agressive and it's because the person we all have bad feelings for will NOT take criticism, so we just sound dumb when we try to fix the problem. We decided, as the only sisters in the district, that it was our job to set an example. Some elders look up to us, and when we're passive agressive, they are. We know that as we show MORE charite and less agression that the atmosphere will greatly improve.

I love you all SOOOOOOOOO much! I wish you could hear everything I have to say!

Those who wrote me this week: THANK YOU! I'm writing letters back today!

THOSE WHO DIDN'T WRITE ME:

Here's my address:

Sister KAcey Barros

FRA-PAR #85 0525 (don't forget that last part. I've been getting heck for it from the mailroom)

2005 N 900 E

Provo UT 84604

Soeur Barros

And the house on the sand

2010-04-16T19:13:00.000-07:00

washed away..............

This has been an interesting week. To say the least.

Sunday night was the annual BYU men's chorus fireside. It was AMAZING to hear MUSIC!!! For those who don't know, you're are not allowed to listen to music at all in the MTC, unless it is prelude music to a meeting, or Music and the Spoken word. AHHHH!! THEY ARE SOOOOOO GOOD!!!!! And they sang some spirituals which just made you smile, and some hymns that made you cry.

At the end of the fireside, I had to run to a training meeting for new coordinating sisters with my new partners in crime, the zone leaders. And that's when it hit me... the nausea I mean. I started feeling SOOOO sick. We ran back to the classroom after the brief meeting to sing with the zone one last time, and I knew I was going to throw up; not then. Not soon. But that night.

The singing went well (except for the hot flashes and nausea), and we said good bye to some of my favorite people. We lost 30 members of our zone to the mission field. One of those that left was a sister that we missed the moment we said goodbye. We cried as the elders got to hug eachother and cry. All we could do was give handshakes. It took all my control NOT to hug them, or squeeze their hands: this was it. Now it's off the bench and into the game. But not all things are bad. We got three new elders, and one thinks he's pretty hot stuff. Well, at least he acts that way. I've come to realize that about half the people who act that way really have low self esteem, or doubt themselves constantly. So we'll see which half he falls into.

Anyway, I did get sick that night. I threw up several times, making it to the dorm bathroom each time. I swear it was the spirit. I'd think "I need to go to the bathroom." and then think. "No. I really don't. If I get up, I'll vomit." and then "............................." then "oh." Yup. That's the spirit. Luckily someone had left out cleaning supplies from Saturday, so I cleaned everything up. Yay responsible Kacey!!!

Monday I went to the doctor, and he freaked me out. He made me drink tons of gateorade and said "come back this afternoon to see if your fever is down." (oh yeah, I had a fever.) SO I drank my gateorade and tried very hard to pay attention in class. No luck. Went baack to the doctor in the afternoon and he really freaked me out. My temperature was still up, and he pushed in on my stomach and it HURT. BAD. He tried to take blood, but I was still too dehydrated, so I had to go off campus to the BYU student health clinic for them to draw from my hand. Yeah. Send the sick girl who the doctor thinks MAY have apendicitis for a WALK to the SHC. Great.

Turns out I'm fine. Just a stomach bug. But I got really nervous.......

Life is good here. It's sad that one of our sisters has left us, but we know she's doing what she's supposed to. When we get new sisters, how am I going to say goodbye to them? I'll just think of France and all the good food.... yup. That will be my tactic.

I had ana amazing experience with an elder here. I've been getting on him to tell me his conversion story, and he finally did. As he told the story, the spirit grew sooo strong. In the middle of a full cafeteria, it was just him telling me his story, and me listening. And the amazing thing? Almost all of it sound like Dad's conversion story. SERIOUSLY. All I could think while he was talking was "Holy cow. It's Dad's story." I told Elder M that (that's his name), and he just stared at me. "Soeur Barros. I'm so glad you told me that. The spirit is so strong right now." The whole experience made me inspect my own conversion story, and this is what I wrote after an hour of study, pondering, and prayer.

"My conversion was not an all of a sudden thing. Mine was gradual, slow and subtle. I was baptized when I was 8 because I knew it was the thing to do. When I was 12, I felt the spirit testify to me about the savior and His atonement. That is my first revollection of recognizing the spirit.

After that, I felt it testify often. At church, at youth activities, at school. I knew the reality of Joseph Smith's vision and power befor I was 16. I felt it reaffirmed during a youth pioneer treck, as my brother, portraying joseph smith, fell from a t0 foot window. And even recently, as I watched the Joseph smith video, I realized how much that one man, a mortal and imperfect man, accomplished. He restored the true gospel of Jesus Christ! What a service to the world!!

I don't always do the right thing, but I try. A repentant soul is a converted soul. I'm still becoming what the Lord wants me to become. My conversion happens every day. Each time I feel the spirit, it grows. Each time I fail-- it gets harder. Each time I have faith, it grows again.

I am a convert. I'm making my changes. And that is the type of convert I am."

I know it's true, everyone. I love this church and all the amazing blessings it gives me. Life has become many more good things than bad, and I LOVE that!

Have faith. Pray OFTEN and SINCERLY. You will be blessed in ways no one can comprehend, I can promise you that.

I love love LOVE you.

Soeur Kacey Barros

PS- If you want to send me ANYTHING.... hint hint to EVERYONE.... here's a list of things I've been wanting/ needing:

Tori- that great body lotion you gave me at Christmas: I'm almost out. Pick something nice and send it to your sister please!!!

KNEE HIGHS!!!! I'm starting to destroy mine, and it's getting too warm to wear full length nylons.

LETTERS!!!!!

And LOVE!! And PRAYERS!!!

okay, that's all.

April 2 2010

2010-04-02T18:45:00.000-07:00

You're in the army now!!!!

Maybe not, but sometimes I wish we were. Some of these elders could benefit from boot camp....

Thank you everyone who writes me! I appreciate all the letters, no matter how short. It gets a little lonely here, so anything helps. And to you who haven't written me... follow their great example...

This week hashad many ups and downs (ps the shift button stinks on this computer, and so does the space buton, so bear with me). Sunday was great, but gave me too much time to think, and all these doubts entered my mind. It was probably one of the worst experiences I've ever had in my life. My companion and I spent Monday's companionship study crying in a class room about our fears and doubts. Hers were different than mine, but we both understood each other's feelings. All day monday I felt like crud. All day tuesday. Yuck. Why wasn't I succeeding? At all?? I was praying for faith, I was praying for comfort. And I got nothing. It wasn't like i had none of the spirit with me-- I've felt that before, and this wasn't like that. I just wasn't getting any confirmation or comfort. And then on wednesday, I spent a lot of time on my knees in the classroom for personal study. I did the only thing I'd thought of but hadn't tried. One of my old bishops, Bishop Batt, told me that if I spent a good ten fifteen minutes just thanking Heavenly Father for specific blessings, then i would feel better about anything. So that's what I did. And then, in a still small voice, it came. "Uh Kacey? Who are you praying for?" "Me." "Well then..."

Duh.

Here I was praying for my OWN improvement, my OWN success. Why am I out here? To serve God and His children. Not me. What a simple answer to what i thought was a complicated problem. Life hasn't been peaches and cream since then, but it's been easier. Also, my branch presidency's wives come visit the sisters at night sometimes, and one of them gave me some much needed counsel: The spirit on your mission is different from the spirit in the world. It's quieter and almost rarer here. How exhausting to always have those overwhelming experiences daily! And how much would I learn if I didn't have to listen very hard to hear the spirit. Her words gave such comfort to me, and I've been noticing the little promptings from the spirit more and more.

I went to the Teaching Resource center on wednesday. We had to speak to people in french asif we were in a park, get to know them, share a message, and set up an appointment. I did super well at that. And then later we taught the first lesson... in english of course. It's sometimes hard, but I feel like my companion doesn't like how much I talk, but then when i shut up and wait for her to say something, she goes red and tells me to talk. We can't find a balance.

Elder know it all has actually improved so much. My companion and I notice the difference leadership has made in him, and I now appreciate his french speaking abilities: now I have someone to talk to that can help ME improve, and not the other way around. I love helping my companion and classmates, but I also want to progress. So thank goodness for elder know it all.

We went to San Fransisco this week to appear before the french consulate. In order to get our visas, we have to do that. Only 8 ofus went this trip, but 8 was almost too much. They told us: don't look like tourists. Sisters: Pass. Elders: half of them failed. it almost reached a point of ridiculousness (if that's even a word). But we went contacting while we waited to go back to the airport, and I placed a pass along card. It was excellent. I've decided my strong point is contacting. But then my companion gave the entire first lesson to someone on the plane back, because he kept asking questions, and now no one cares about me being the only one able to place a pass along card at Coit tower. But that's okay. It makes me happy to know that I succeeded at something.

I have great roommates. One of them started out annoying and young (don't know if I mentioned this, but she's barely 20 and she can come because her dad is a general authority. Look for ELder Hamula in the 1st quarm of the 70), but now she's so humble and sweet, and funny. I love her so much. She's in a trio that doesn't let her teach or speak very much, and it makes her so sad. She doesn't think they like her very much. One is 23 and is pretty condescending to all of us, but Soeur Hamula gets it the worst.

TODAY, fridays, are P-Days. My first week was a saturday because they put all the new missionaries on saturday their first week. From now on, fridays are the day.

I'm trying to attach some photos. let's see if it works....

I'll send em in a seperate email I think.

The church is true. Heavenly father loves me and is awaare of me.

Pray OFTEN!!

Love! Je vous aime!!!!

Soeur Barros.

San Fransisco!!!!

Bonjour ma famille

2010-03-27T19:07:00.000-07:00

Bonjour mes petites pallies!!!

So I want to start off by saying we only get 30 minutes on email. In fact, there is a little timer in the corner, and it shuts off after 30 minutes. I feel like I'm on a game show....

AH le MTC. It's a different place, that's for sure, and I mean that in a good way. But my first day was literally a headache. I got there earlier than I should have, so they took me to the "early arrivals" room. I was the only sister, and it was kinda weird because I'm used to being around boys and talking to them. They were not so sure what to do with ME, however, so I was placed in a corner by myself. After a while a Samoan sister showed up, and I was no longer alone. MAIS-- there was ONE elder that I had a class with at BYUI!! How chouette is that??? Class that first day was a tough monkey too because I was running on about two hours of sleep, and all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and sleep. No such luck. I met ma tres cher collegue (my dear companion) at class, and the rest of my district. Our district is composed of 9 missionaires, which is apparently a large district. Tous les missionaires vont aller (are going) a France-- there are four, including me, going to Paris, and five going to toulouse. The elders going to my mission... well, let me start with ma favorite (not.).

Il y a (there is) an elder who thinks he is la Shiz. No joke. Took a giant semester full of French and now thinks he is AWESOME!!!! Yeah, maybe he is. But I have a hard time getting past his giant ego to really get to know him. Actually, he must be a decent man because he is now (joy) my District leader. But I've decided I will never criticize his leading skills. We're all inexperienced, and he was called to that position. He corrects to prove he is right, but not out of love. And he's wrong half the time. Honest. He made this big deal out of our pronunciation of our purpose. For those who speak french (Comme Scott) you will get this. He says "EEnveetay" pour "inviter" and "SANE" pour "Saint" et "FEEEN" pour "fin". Honest? Got on our cases for not saying those words that way. Well, I leaned over to my companion and said (because I was still at a point where I wanted to just let him be the teacher and I'll be the humble student) and said, quietly "I'm not sure that's how you say those words. I think you say it "anveetay" and "sannn" and "fan"." She said "I don't know." So I said, "me either." Well, our real teacher came back after our personal study and heard us using this elder's pronunciation. He swiftly corrected us. Guess I was right. Huh. BUT-- and this is for Mom-- I did not say "HA!" or "I TOLD YOU SO!". I just turned to an elder next to me and said, "did you catch that? Is that how we pronounce that?" So I'm pretty sure this elder is going to keep me on my toes. I no longer worry about being the know-it-all, because all I have to do is observe this elder and NOT do what he's doing.

There's another elder that has taken it upon himself to be chums avec les soeurs. Why? His companion is a lot less mature than him. The first day of class, all he could do was look shocked at what his companion had to say. But I've noticed, now that they sit next to les soeurs, all is well. Je pense it's because we encourage his companion to be less of the world and a little more mature. He treats us with such respect, and we weren't even trying to help him. I guess that's just how our district works. BUT-- I must say this "worldly" companion has serious strong points. When he focuses, he makes the most amazing comments, and can lead any conversation with an "investigator" to the gospel. What a skill!! I think I admire it so much because I do not posses it. Which leads me to my next topic:

I always thought I was a people person, but I've found it tres difficult to speak with investigators, and not just en francais. I am so very humbled by this inability to take conversations from the person to the gospel. I also seem to have lost the ability to truly talk about a person. This skill has been in my prayers lately.

Everyone talks about the spirit being here, but it took me a few days to notice the specific way in which I've been blessed here. I realized yesterday that my mind hasn't wandered one bit, and I mean not one bit. When it does go from the topic at hand, it strays to other missionary topics. To some, it may seem like "duh." But pour moi-- c'est merveilleux. I have NEVER been able to focus like this. Ever. What a BLESSING it has been! THere are so many things I've done that I've never been able to do. Like stay completely awake during class, and loving roommates that are especially grating on my nerves. Thank heavens, and I mean that in the most literal sense.

TORI- thanks for the letter. You are getting one from me this week.

Mere et Pere: you also are getting letters.

BETH: don't worry, I won't let the elders push me around. I also won't let myself push them around. and I see BREE every SINGLE NIGHT!!! I lovvvee it!!

My time is up.

Au revoir.

Je vous aime.

Soeur Barros

PS-- I'll have photos next week, but I forgot my camera today.

We are 4-Square champions.

Signing off...

2010-03-23T19:59:00.000-07:00

It's here. It really is here. Scared? Sorta. Excited? Not yet (for France, I mean. It's another two months until I'm there...). In denial?

Totally.

BUT- I am packed.

I think I shall leave my blog with this message:

I know the church is true. I know it. It's no longer belief for me, because it is knowledge. I know that Christ is my redeemer and lives today. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and has restored the true church on the earth in these latter days. And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Book of Mormon is true. And I love it.

Don't cry for me, friends and family. The truth is I'll never leave you. All through my wild days, my mad existence.... I'll keep my promise to serve well and worthily. Don't keep your distance.

Mailing addresses:

Sister Kacey Kathleen Barros

MTC Mailbox # 85
FRA-PAR 0525
2005 N 900 E
Provo, UT 84604-1793

I'm pretty sure I'll be there for eight or nine weeks.

When I get to France, this will be my mailing address:

Soeur Kacey Barros
France Paris Mission

23, Rue du Onze Novembre
F-78110 Le Vesinet
France

Have I said too much?

There's nothing more I can think of to say to you.
But all you have to do is look at me to know
That every word is true

Adieu.

(PS- ten points to whomever can name which musical I've been quoting....)

How can there be any sin in sincere?

2010-03-17T21:45:00.001-07:00

How do i leave my family for 18 months? It hits me every day now. I want to serve a mission with all my heart. But i already miss my mom, my dad, my sisters, and my brothers. How do i do it? I don't know.

I must have faith. They'll be fine-- they've sent out missionaries before! And it's not like I'm gallavanting through europe-- no. I'm serving the Lord. He will help me get past this little tiff.

Okay. I feel better now.

I married a God....

2010-03-07T20:14:00.000-08:00

Not really. But kind of... I promise to explain later....

My long time bishop of the Valentine ward was released last week at Stake Conference. This bishop kicked me out of the ward (I was 17), then asked me to come back (they needed an organist), told me I was too young to get married (when I was 18 and just starting to date Ben-- he told me to wait untill at least 18 1/2), congradulated me when I got engaged and endorsed it with his personal approval (the wedding date was just past my 18 1/2 mark), defended me to my fiance when he wanted to call it off, and cried with me when it all fell to pieces. He helped me go to the temple, loved me, and supported me in everything. And now, his life moves on. I'm sad, yes, but I'm also glad. Life cannot stay the same, or it's not life. But that's just my opinion. He's now in the Stake Presidency. President Perkins will be amazing, I'm sure.

Today he was officially released in our ward. We had a huge turnout, and I'm pretty sure our ward clerk hoped today was a counting day. People who weren't in the ward anymore for whatever reason showed up. I didn't see him first. Tori did.

"Kacey. Ben's here."
"Ben...? Oh. Ben Ben?"
"Yeah."
"I don't see him... oh wait. I do."

The entire Pitman clan was there, along with my beautiful almost-nephew Mitchell and his new(ish) little brother. Oh he is SOOO grown up! I saw the people I once loved as my own, sitting there without me. I didn't get immediately sad, but the more I watched them, the more I remembered the good times I had with them. How amazingly sweet David and Hillari are. Early in the engagement, Dave called me, teased me about the last name I was going to take on, and then told me how happy his brother was. And if I could make Ben that happy, then Dave welcomes me into the family. How Hillari told me stories about Ben, and how much she loved this family, inviting us over for dinner. How Mary was sweet and inviting, paying for me to fly to Boston for Mark's wedding. How she and Grandma Mary cried at my Bridal Shower because they were so happy for Ben.

The Pitmans may have their faults, and some of them are more apparent than others. But nothing can be said to disuade me from their amazing qualities. I still love them.

So that made me sad. And remembering them reminded me of Ben. And the good things about him.
He's a good man. He's the only relationship I've had with a man that made me improve my standards, and actually live up to them. He held me accountable for my actions, though sometimes it went too far (which is one of the reasons I'm glad we never married). He loved to laugh, and was never afraid to laugh loud. He stood up for what he believed in, even to his Mormon peers, which is something I always find hard. He loved me. He planned an extensive proposal, but wanted to be engaged so much that he just asked me. Three weeks before he was going to. He included me in many decisions. He was a good man, and would have been a good husband.

Of course he had his faults, but that's not the point of this post. If we dated again, we would never make it. I'm a different person now and wouldn't stand for half of what he would say to me. No one could make me feel ashamed for my concern anymore. Now I would never allow my fiance to hide things about his health from me, two weeks before the wedding. And now I would... no. I'd still fight for him. If I loved a man enough to say yes to his proposal, and I knew it was approved by God, then I would fight him like I did Ben. I did NOT go out without a fight. And you know what? I like that about me.

He was a good man. I would highly reccomend him to anyone. But not to date-- he's still got committment issues, and it's far to easy to fall in love with this man.

But that's not the God I was talking about. Last night I dreamt that I married a God. Greek-God type God. We even had our own versioun of hades. I thought it rocked. But I had very little power. I mean, being a God-in-law was pretty limiting. I loved it, though. Something about this dream made me think about the post-mortal existence. I got very excited. I mean, have you ever thought what your role as a Heavenly Mother will be? (If you're women that is; don't you men worry about being Heavenly Mother's). I don't mean to wax philosphical or go into dangerous doctrine territory. But sometimes you wonder... ya know?

Okay. Well. C'est tout- for now.

Ma vie... ah how boring it is...

2010-02-19T19:18:00.000-08:00

No seriously. I attempt to blog quite frequently. But everytime I come on, I choke. What has happened in my life that is worth mentioning? Not much. Just a few lessons I guess.

Lesson Number One: Gossips are very bored people. I am a very bored person. I've been caught on more than one occasion spreading stories about people, no matter how true, that really aren't my business, or were told in confidence. It's been my sister and my mom that catch me. Now that they've pointed it out enough times, I catch myself. Why do I tell these stories (which aren't bad stories, but still gossip. Right? I think so)? Because I'm bored with my own life. So hear this and know: gossips lead very boring lives.

Lesson Number 2: It's when I have tons of time that I really don't have time. I hate that about myself. If I have a very short list of things to do, I don't do it. Sad. BUT! I have discovered that if I write a list down I'm more likely to get it done. In fact, lists have worked very well for me. When I went to Grandma's to work this last week, we had a list, and thank goodness for it! I actually got stuff done without dawdling!

Lesson Number 3: I'm growing up. WOW.   I don't say this to be proud or in your face, but I do want to show the small miracles in my life. I know that some of these may not seem like miracles to you, but I promise they are miracles to me.
             Miracle 1) My favorite pet sin holds very little temptation for me anymore. I've been presented with multiple opportunities to take part in this sin, but have easily resisted. Okay, not every time was easy. But it's getting easier. And I'm proud of that.
             Miracle 2) I had an immense spiritual experience in an interview with my bishop and have felt no need to justify it to anyone. This miracle has to do with my decision about when to enter The Lord's House and make sacred covenants. I don't know why it had to happen this way at this time, but I know that I've learned to see the Lord's will, even if I don't want to :). But this whole situation about when I should go to the temple has been very charged in my life. It's not the people closest to me that have been on my case-- they've either been very understanding or very closed-mouthed about it; either way I appreciate it. But I've been telling those people who push me to do things their way or on their time-table that it's my decision and I'll do it when I feel it's right. Many of you know how outspoken I am so this may not be a miracle to you. But I must say, this whole situation has caused me more tears than most guys. It's been stressfull and pressured and ridiculous. For no good reason other than I forgot about who's will I should be concerned with.

Lesson Number 4: Knowing your weaknesses is not a bad thing. Didn't the Lord say "Come unto me and I will show unto [you] [your] weaknesses"? I get down on myself and my inability to resist certain sins. I've begun avoiding certain situations entirely. At first it made me sad that I had to do that. But then-- wow. I realized, through yet another profound experience, that it takes strength to avoid those things. If I know my limits, then I am being wise in avoiding those fine lines.

Okay. Enough preaching. I'll save the rest of my sermons for the French.

and the rangers scream out to the cabins

2010-02-04T00:35:00.000-08:00

they are the hunters, we are the rabbits...

I started out with the intent to write yet another dream of mine. But I realized that most of my posts here are about my dreams. Maybe it's because I'm a psych major? But dreams have always played an important role in my life, mostly because I take them far too seriously. Or possibly because I've spent my life in the clouds, dreaming my life away. Ha ha, no more time for dreams, kiddies. Real life problems are about to hit.

I mean, I'm going to France, FRANCE for crying outloud! What a dream come true! Apparently dreams come with a Real Life cost: this time it's both spiritual and literally temporal. For example: I have spent soooo much money on clothes for my mission. Right now, the tally is at... let me do some quick math... $300? I think that's how much. Plus another fifty that I've spent on supplies and Visa stuff, and guess what? I haven't even made a dent in that list. Gag.

Spiritual costs? Well I had to give up some pet sins. I realized, because of a dream thank-you-very-much, that without even noticing I'd given up a very special sin for me. It's one I've been rationalizing for years and years. It's never done me a ton of harm, but it has definitely done me no good. And if you're not fighting for the right, then you're aiding the wrong. Does that make sense? I've also given up certain preconceptions I've had of myself and what my life is going to be like. Strange how that realization just came upon me. I'm a planner gosh-darn-it, and nothing was working how I planned! Everything's working out well, mind you, but not how I planned. I think I should get used to that....

I'm still going to tell you a little about my dreams. They've been based on some of my fave TV shows, sadly. The first one was Leverage-- oh man, this one just makes me blush. So I personally think the character Elliot is the cutest (just cut your girlie hair, silly man!), and so of course he was the star of my dream. I was busy doing other things like taking care of my twin boys (I was an unwed mother, but I'm not sure why-- you know how when you dream, some things just aren't imporant? that was one of those things-- but Eliot showed up with the rest of the crew. I was tired of washing dishes and walked over to him and blatently flirted. Now here's the saddest saddo part of it all: I got really excited about flirting.
Honest.
I haven't flirted in so long, I got a kick out of doing it in my dream!! SAD!! I've a feeling this is how my dreams will be in the mission. Hahahahaha!

The next dream was about Bones. Once again an unwed mother, and once again it didn't matter why I was, I went shopping with my daughter and our fish george. She carried him around in a peanutbutter jar. She had down syndrome, so everyone was like "eh, whatever. She has a fish in a jar." But she was looking for Hodgins. He was her favorite. She wanted to give Hodgins her fish. Apparently, I worked with Hodgins which is how she knew him. He kind of blew us off for his girlfriend, and that made me mad. Like, mamma bear mad. I marched over to him and used my jedi skills (haha-- seriously) to lift his sorry butt in the air and make him know how much my little girl wanted to talk to him and loved him and he better appreciate it or I would seriously maim him.
Don't know what the point of that dream was, but I wanted to share.

Well, thanks for listening.

Maybe we don't want to be found....

Ma vie en rose

2010-01-26T18:49:00.000-08:00

We had to learn that song in one of my French classes. I only remember little snibbits of it, so I obviously didn't learn it very well. But I find myself humming it whenever I think about France. A la vie du francais!! My life with rose colored glasses!

Ha. I don't think I've ever worn rose colored glasses.

I kinda want some now.

I bought my first pair of mission shoes. I went to the store looking for tennis shoes because they're on my list of things I need to bring and I haven't bought tennis shoes since I was like 11. Honest. And the ones I wear now? I've had since I was 14 or 15 and those I stole from my mom who bought them at Goodwill. You see my dilemma. So after a morning of filling orders at the Bishop's Storehouse (Mom said if we didn't get jobs, we could work at home if we volunteered. Bully,), Cathy (one of my friends who's an RM) Tori and I went to Marshalls hoping to find some tennis shoes for me and a bag for Tori. Instead we found lovely black comfy mission shooes. I got very excited and tried to carry them around the store.

People have started asking me when I'm going through the temple. I tell them I don't know yet. Because I really don't, not a specific day anyway. I know when my bishop and I are meeting to get a reccomend, but that's all. But here's the point of this: I'm not going to tell people when I go. I really don't want people to come to the session. I'm telling my mom and my dad, and probably my brother and his wife. At least, that's the plan. But I don't want anyone else to come. It's not a family party. I don't want to worry about all the people there for me. I know they love me and want to show their support and take part in this special and amazing experience. The thing is, I like sacred experiences to be private. Barely a year ago I started sharing personal experiences with other people, and even then it was usually in private. That's just how I am. I like to keep sacred things to myself. Is that terrible? I don't think so.

Anyway.

I decided to show you all the French national anthem, called La Marseillaise. And the english translation of the lyrics. I think it's kind of intense and a little scary. Cool, right?

Arise children of the fatherland

The day of glory has arrived
Against us tyranny's
Bloody standard is raised
Listen to the sound in the fields
The howling of these fearsome soldiers
They are coming into our midst
To cut the throats of your sons and consorts

To arms citizens Form your battalions
March, march
Let impure blood
Water our furrows

What do they want this horde of slaves
Of traitors and conspiratorial kings?
For whom these vile chains
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage
What methods must be taken?
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

What! These foreign cohorts!
They would make laws in our courts!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would cut down our warrior sons
Good Lord! By chained hands
Our brow would yield under the yoke
The vile despots would have themselves be
The masters of destiny

Tremble, tyrants and traitors
The shame of all good men
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will receive their just reward
Against you we are all soldiers
If they fall, our young heros
France will bear new ones
Ready to join the fight against you

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors
Bear or hold back your blows
Spare these sad victims
That they regret taking up arms against us
But not these bloody despots
These accomplices of Bouillé
All these tigers who pitilessly
Ripped out their mothers' wombs

We too shall enlist
When our elders' time has come
To add to the list of deeds
Inscribed upon their tombs
We are much less jealous of surviving them
Than of sharing their coffins
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or joining them

Drive on sacred patriotism
Support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished liberty
Join the struggle with your defenders
Under our flags, let victory
Hurry to your manly tone
So that in death your enemies
See your triumph and our glory!

Allyn

2010-01-25T16:07:00.000-08:00

It did really get dark out here when the moon floated full in the sky. The bream beams waltzed down and shot off the smooth 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 sking, burning patterns of freckles all over her arms and face. Even though she lived in the heart of California, her skin (besides the many freckles that dotted it) was a milky white. Norweigans had nothing on the whiter shade of pale her legs wore. She hated the color. It made her sick.

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 finger dermis. Allyn didn't even notice the mildly irritating stings; they were nothing compared to her babies' venom. Even that didn't bother her anymore; she'd developed an immunity to it.

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 in time. Maybe she'd found a patch of flowers far away and got distracted. Or maybe she didn't catch the whole dance her sister had done and got lost. Whatever the reason, she was crawling on Allyn's hand. As soon as she felt the honey girl's tired thorax dragging on her flesh, she lifted her hand to her face.

"Where do you belong, girlie?" She asked with a tenderness that hardly anyone witnessed. She tilted her hand so the moon's reflected light hit the Girl just right. Three colored dots appeared like magic on the girl's back. She knew exactly where the Girl belonged.

"You're a long way off, Babe." The softly murmured words mirrored her feelings for the insect. Carefully, without using the hand with the barbbed visitor, she rose to her feet and walked slowely to a remote white box. It was one of the newer hives, near the tiny orange grove on the west side of the property. A sweet and calm walk, it took ten whole minutes to make the twenty yard trek. Once Allyn reached the white hive, she lowered her hand onto its warm surface. The Honey Girl crawled quickly off her hand and into her home. The pale woman smiled, thinking of the one bee she knew lived on.

Her jeans were soaked from sitting in the grass. Little drops of water dripped from her hems onto the hardowod floor of the foyer. Knowing Virginia was the only other person home, Allyn felt secure in the fact that no one would see her peel off the wet pants in a common area. SHe hated the feeling of wet denim between her thighs and always took the first opportunity to remove the sensation. She carried the pants to a powder roomdownstairs and tossed them carelessly into the footed porceline bathtub. A member of the household staff would wash them later.

She lingered for a moment, taking in the familiar smell of a scented candle burning away. Bianca set out the same scents every season. It was September, so the Juicy Apple candles were placed throughout the manor. Bianca thought it made the large building more homey; Allyng though it made past seasonal experiences impossible to escape. Allyn hated the blasted candles, and begged Bianca to mix it up once in a while. But Bianca was old and could give a crap about Allyn's opinions. She was here before the girl, and Virginia was the only one she even pretended to listen to. One time she petitioned to Virginia about the candles. No dice. Virginia loves them. Speaking of Virigina...

"Allyn! What are you doing?" Th appalled tone in her voice was familiar.
"Going upstairs."
"Oh of course!" she replied sarcastically. "I always walk upstairs without pants. It's a wonder I didn't figure that out immediately."
Allyn stared blankely at the old woman. Her sarcasm fell flat.
"Really, dear. Why aren't you wearing any pants?" The sarcasm was gone and got replaced with concern. Allyn bristled at the tone.
"Because they were wet. I didn't want to ruin the... floor." She tried giving an answer that appealed to Virginia.
"We've already talked about this, Lynn. Pants, or skirts, are to be worn at all times inside the house. Except in your room-- wear whatever you want in there." It sounded like she was saying "don't ask don't tell" to the last part. Alyyn bristled again at the use of her least favorite nickname.
"No one else lives here." It was all the explanation Allyn thought was needed. Apparently Virginia required more, because she stared expectantly at her young, half-naked granddaughter. Allyn returned her stare, blank eyes shooting back.

Virginia sighed in surrender. "Fine. Use your logic. But I won't tolerate immodesty in the common areas of my home." She turned around, skirts swishing as she glided to another room.

Allyn stood silently on the staircase, gazing at the spot her grandmother stood moments ago. The velvet fibers of the rug and risen up and tickled the spaces between her toes. She hated the feeling of things between her toes. SO much so, that her focus had been on her discomfort, and not on her grandmother.

Shaking the icky feeling from her feet, she restarted her path upstairs. With each step, the conversation came back to her, finally breaking through the filter. As her hand touched the glass knob on her suite's door, she whispered "I'm sorry."

poor uncle...

2010-01-19T09:08:00.000-08:00

Okay. So I just had a terrible nightmare. Actually, the dream in it's entirety wasn't all that terrible. But the very end, the part that woke me up, was bad. Very very bad.

I was back at my and Tori's apartment. A few of my out of state cousins showed up and were visiting us. Tori loves them and looks forward to seeing them... no matter how annoying they get (darn her and her forgiving spirit). They're closer to Tori's age than mine, so I never spent all too much time with them. But here they were, sitting in our living room making polite conversation. Then their father shows up. My aunt is no longer married to this man for very very good reasons. I don't know details; I don't want to know details. In fact, I can't remember the last time this man even crossed my mind. Until this morning.

I don't remember what I did to make him mad, but I did something. He suddenly yelled at me, grabbed me by my arm, and started dragging me through the hallway. I started yelling "NO! NO! NO! NO!" as loud as I possible could because that's what my self defense class taught me. I tried to hammerfist his arm... he was too far behind me. When I tried to kick between his legs he stepped backwards. Everything I tried he anticipated and continued to drag me down the apartment complex's hall. The worst part? THere were tons of girls outside and none of them did anything. They just watched. I told myself "Scream 'I'm getting attacked!' or something!!" But everytime I tried a full sentence I had no breath.

Eventually one of my teachers saw this and tackled him to the ground in her knee length pencil skirt. Tori came to her office to pick me up and fill out some paperwork. I sobbed as I told her what happened and she calmly focused her attention on the forms. She was grinding her teeth. Don't know how I know it, but I do. She took my hand and walked me home, silent the whole time.

That was probably one of the least realistic and scariest dreams I've ever had. Why didn't any of the girls help? It was obvious that he was dragging me somewhere to do something bad. Why didn't they DO something???

I don't know. But now I'm going to pull out the book we used in my selfdefense class and refresh myself on all the techniques. Because I've got the willies.....

to be or not to be

2010-01-14T23:19:00.000-08:00

entranced.

It's funny the little distractions that pop up when you get a mission call. All those things that made you want to leave on the mission so badly suddenly seem amazing. Not like I've experienced that.... uh nope, not me... STOP LOOKING AT ME THAT WAY!!

My friend and I have exchanged mission addresses so we can write to each other. I've known this boy since I was 13 or 14, so we're pretty good chums. It's pretty nice, actually. All of my friends are coming home from their missions and I'm just leaving!! But this boy and I will be out the same time, so I'm excited to have a friend out having similar experiences while I am. I'm very excited.

And sleepy.

And sneezy.

And goofy.

And... I can't think of any other dwarves.

Huh.

Kay.

Night.

IF a photo says a thousand words...

2010-01-08T18:28:00.000-08:00

then I'll let this one speak for me...

I report march 24.

J'ai finis...

2009-12-22T09:59:00.000-08:00

C'est vrais. J'ai finis.

Now... what?

Friday, December 18th

2009-12-14T06:59:00.000-08:00

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.

Don't let your roommates give you plastic surgery...

2009-12-11T07:19:00.000-08:00

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.

Funny how that works...

2009-12-07T10:43:00.000-08:00

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.

20 pounds and inumerous euphemisms later...

2009-11-30T00:33:00.003-08:00

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.

And the votes are...

2009-11-16T19:57:00.000-08:00

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?

Out of my world...

2009-11-13T11:14:00.000-08:00

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.

To fall crop circles

2009-11-10T09:50:00.000-08:00

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.

Dreaaaaaammmmm

2009-11-06T07:48:00.000-08:00

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?

Tender mercies

2009-10-31T14:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Allyn

2009-10-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

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.

AND WE'RE OFF!!

2009-10-21T10:47:00.000-07:00

DID IT DID IT DID IT!!!

Started MY PAPERS!!!

Hall

2009-10-20T14:57:00.000-07:00

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)

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.

quelq'une qui m'a dit

2009-10-12T11:05:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-10-09T11:51:00.001-07:00

So i can't stop myself, but on my way up to class i end up walking in front of the same two people every day. I feel i shall get to know them better than they know me. Sorry, but that's so funny to me!

I like to eat eat eat...

2009-09-27T21:51:00.000-07:00

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

For the man who looks good in a tree piece suit...

2009-09-22T15:00:00.001-07:00

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

http://www.molestationnursery.com/

--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:

Because I already took the class...

2009-09-16T10:37:00.000-07:00

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!

Talk Talk!!!

2009-07-19T20:23:00.000-07:00

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!

Born on the fourth of July

2009-07-04T21:31:00.000-07:00

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.

Substance and Emotional Abuse

2009-06-17T08:15:00.000-07:00

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.

"We're war veterans! We're allowed to be mad!"

2009-06-03T08:25:00.000-07:00

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!

Welcome Welcome Monday Morning!

2009-06-01T08:33:00.001-07:00

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.

blank

2009-05-28T20:58:00.001-07:00

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.

Oh what do you do in the summer time...

2009-05-27T08:34:00.000-07:00

...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!

Hahahahaha!

2009-05-18T10:51:00.000-07:00

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!!!

Glow, Baby, Glow!!

2009-05-17T14:37:00.000-07:00

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!!

PPPPPPPCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!

2009-05-13T08:09:00.000-07:00

This was me yesterday:

Does it look sucky? Because it was.

This semester is going to kill me.

You see this smile upon my mouth...

2009-05-08T08:32:00.000-07:00

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.

I was made for you

2009-05-02T17:08:00.000-07:00

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. :)

Dear Rose,

2009-04-24T18:37:00.000-07:00

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!!!!

HEAR YE HEAR YE!!

2009-04-06T13:33:00.001-07:00

I got the internship!!

YAY ME!!!!!

Internship!!

2009-04-01T09:48:00.000-07:00

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!!

I have a family of blondes...

2009-03-27T13:45:00.000-07:00

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?

The next week...

2009-03-20T13:13:00.000-07:00

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!

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it...

2009-03-08T16:25:00.000-07:00

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. :)

"Demain, Des L'aube" et le cinque stade du chagrin

2009-02-27T11:16:00.000-08:00

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 !

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.

Avant je finis...

2009-02-25T08:04:00.000-08:00

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.

I don't care what anyone else says...

2009-02-20T11:02:00.000-08:00

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...

St. Valentine's Day

2009-02-16T09:11:00.000-08:00

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 night's alright for... depression??

2009-02-13T20:43:00.000-08:00

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.

essaie

2009-02-11T10:04:00.000-08:00

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?

j'ai besoin une sieste...

2009-02-01T16:38:00.000-08:00

I already took one. But I want another.

YAY NAPS!!!

This picture is for you, Tora.

Bears

2009-01-23T08:12:00.000-08:00

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.

Now I KNOW Rexburg hates me....

2009-01-13T09:21:00.000-08:00

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!!

2009-01-07T13:51:00.000-08:00

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.

Christmasy Time!

2009-01-04T18:48:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-11-22T21:41:00.000-08:00

So, I'm sitting here in Provo, tummy full and fat, and just getting excited about the holidays. You know, I'm not the kind of person to just sit back and only count my blessings once a year, but now seems like a more than appropriate time to do so.

I'll sart with my family. I'm so grateful for my family. I can't even begin to express the love I have for my family. For my dad, cause he's so silly and so serious at the same time. Today Michayla and I were talking about Dad and how his ultimate insult is "twit!" Yup, just like that. Without the exclamation point, it means nothing. When Dad ever called someone a twit!, I knew he was serious. Thank goodness I've never been called one! Or, so I think... Next is Maman. Oh that woman knows me too well. The one thing I'll pick to mention here is her honesty. I've always been able to trust my mother's word (except at Christmas and birthdays). Whether I'm asking her opinion on a blouse or a boy, she is always honest and upfront. Because of her example, I now find my first reflex to be telling the truth... Now, Brandon and Sarah. Brandon I am grateful for because he set such a good example for me. I never had to wonder what was right and wrong-- Brandon was the supreme example my entire childhood. Now, that's not to say that his way and my way are always the same, but we are both working towards the same thing. Sarah, his wife and my cute prego cher seour, is funny and encouraging. I love her for making Brandon so happy and for being herself no matter what. Sarah and I can sometimes bash heads, but it's only because we're so alike. Two strong willed people do not always mix well :)-- but that's why she married Brandon, and not me, lol... Dustin and Tara are next. Dustin is the one who looks the most like me, thus making me visually reconizable as his sister. I used to hate being asked if I was "Dustin's little sister" (or brother as the msitake was once made). But as I got into high school and singles wards, I found this to be an advantage. Dustin had a reputation as a cool guy that was a hard worker. He was like the starter for my sourdough. Tara, his also cute and prego wife, is a funny lady. She always seems interested in my life and what's going on. She has the ability to include me in things and not make it awkward. I appreciate that fact a lot... Michayla. Ah, Michayla. The one thing I'll pick to say for her (because I could write pages and pages for Michayla) is one of the most Christlike people I know. She can make me laugh, and cry. She and I are very different, yet when given a chance to come down to Provo and visit her, I jump at it. Who do I love to hang out with? Michayla... Tori Lynn, my dear, first younger sister. I remember when Tori was born. Dad paraded us all into the hospital room and said "Everyone, this is Tooooorrrriiiiii," and we all repeated, "Tooooorrriiiiiiii". This is one of my earliest memories, and I'm glad that it is. I love "Torpee". She cracks me up, and I can never seem to anticipate her next funny. She was also a good example for me: she never wavered in good and bad. There was no grey, only a strong bold line. I've never been like that, but I aspire to be that way someday... Kitty Rose. She is a source of entertainment as well as an unlikely mirror. When I look at Kit these days, I see myself. She makes me be more compassionate and less judgmental, because everytime I see her do something silly, I know that I did the exact same thing when I was her age. Something about that is just priceless to me... Joseph. Ah, Joseph. This little boy has taught me SO much! He makes me smile and play. I love how he runs up to me and says "Kacey!" and hugs me tightly. It makes me feel SOO loved! And then, of course, he tackles me to the ground and says, "Now I have someone to wrestle with!" Joseph has taught me a lot about patience-- gosh that boy used to drive me up the wall! But I've learned more about myself and my limits through him...

I know this longer than most people will read, but I must go on. I'm grateful for my church, the true and everlasting gospel. I'm grateful for everything it has brought into my life, such as: a relationship with my Heavenly Father; a knowledge of my Savior and His true Atoning sacrifice; the knowledge that families can be together forever through the sealing power in temples; the knowledge that God still leads His church today; the ability to recieve revelation for myself; the wonderful school I attend; and... last, but certainly not least... the Book of Mormon.

Next: My friends. Every friend and roommate I've had has taught me something, about myself or others. I love each of them and I am grateful for all that they have brought into my life.

I'm grateful for Ben... even though it was a short season, I knew what it was like to love and be loved in return. Along those lines, I am also grateful for Jeff. He showed me, after terrible hearbreak, that not every man is alike, and that just because a relationship doesn't work, doesn't mean that it's my fault.

I'm grateful for all the earthly things I have in my life, and that my father has provided for me all these years. I'm also grateful that he taught me how to work for myself, and that he hasn't given me my every desire-- he makes me work for things, and pay for them myself. And for that, I am grateful.

I'm grateful for oranges, tangerines in the cold December fog, dogs, cats, and all manner of beast (hahahaha-- see, something from BOM class stuck with me). I'm grateful for children and all their cuteness, as well as their meekness, and willingness to submit to that which the father doth command. I'm grateful for work, for singing, for dancing, for clay, for paint, for marble, for dirt. I'm grateful for bugs and spiders-- except the scary poisenous ones. I'm grateful for both sets of my grandparents and the different things they have tought me. I'm grateful for love, joy, peace, and the Holy Ghost. I'm grateful for warm fuzzy feelings, attractive men, and even those not so attractive men that win your heart over with kidness, humor, and honesty. I'm grateful for those women who show our devine attributes. I'm grateful for talents, for TV, for movies, for family time, for every religion that leads people to Christ, and for diversity. I'm grateful for President Monson.

All in all, I'm grateful for life, all those good and bad things included.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Apartment Pictures

2008-11-13T23:36:00.001-08:00

Here are the apartment pictures we took last Sunday.

Oh yeah, we're bad. Me and my roomie, BethI don't remember why we picked Beth... but we did!
We're so silly!

We're not very good at math, so this is our version of a pyramid... you think I'm joking...

The bottom revolts!

Love!!

Yeah, it kinda looks like a wedding party...

Who is this girl with her arm around me??? Oh Kaeli...

And that's all folks!

Halloweeeeeeeeeen!

2008-11-13T23:21:00.000-08:00

Here are some pictures from Halloween in the 'Berg.

Here I am as Tracy... not my best, I know, but what can you do?

Good morning, Baltimore!

And here we are as a group. My roomates and their friend decided to be teen pop-stars. The girl with the striped shirt is Kaeli, and she's Demi Lovato. The girl with the hat is Laurel, and she's Vanessa Hudgins. The girl down front with me is MILEY CYRUS! And the hot blonde in the black jacket is Bad Sandy from Grease.

And it begins...

2008-11-13T21:15:00.000-08:00

I thought it would be appropriate to have my first blog be in french, seeing as my blog title is french. My brain's not up to par right now, so you'll have to deal with my report on Disneyland Paris.

Enjoy!

Quand j’ai habité en Californie sud, j’étais nounou pour une famille riche. Nous allions à Disneyland au moins une fois par semaine. Dans ce temps, je suis tombé dans l’amour avec Disneyland. Mon présentation est du Disneyland Resort Paris.
Disneyland Resort Paris est située en Marne-la-Vallée. C’est une ville nouvelle trente-deux kilomètres de Paris. Il y a deux parcs d’attractions, un quartier de divertissement, et sept hôtels possédé par Disney. Il est une populaire destination touristique en Europe. Mais, il était une controverse quand s’ouvrait.
Les critiques ont pensées Euro Disney (qui était le première nom) encouragerait un mal consumérisme d’American. Autres gens ont pensées que le code des vêtements a attaqué leur liberté individuel, qui est enfreint la loi. Président du Disney, Robert Fitzpatrick, a dit qu’ils sont qu’ils sont, et c’est American. Il a dit que le code des vêtements à un grand effet sur leur succès, et quelque chose sous cette norme n’est pas acceptable.
Les hôtels du parc ont été conçus par Frank Gehry, Michael Graves, Robert A.M. Stern, Stanley Tigerman et Robert Venturi. Chaque hôtel a un thème d’une région spécifique du États-Unis. Par exemple : il y a l’hôtel New York, l’hôtel Santa Fe, l’hôtel Cheyenne, Disney Newport Bay Club, Disney Séquoia Lodge, et Davy Crockett Ranch. Et, pour la pièce de résistance, le Disneyland Hôtel, et il est situé dans l’entrance du parc.
Il y avait beaucoup des problèmes sur premier an il était publique. Mais beaucoup des choses ont changées, compris un changement du nom. Euro Disney est devenu Disneyland Resort Paris. Michael Eisner a dit:
As Americans, the word ‘Euro’ is believed to mean glamorous or exciting. For Europeans it turned out to be a term they associated with business, currency, and commerce. Renaming the park ‘Disneyland Paris’ was a way of identifying it with one of the most romantic and exciting cities in the world.
Disneyland Resort Paris est un beau parc avec une histoire complexe. Mais, il est un des lieux les plus heureux sur la terre.

2007-12-01T16:51:00.000-08:00

Wait.
What?
Is this what this feels like?
Like my world has just… fallen
What will I do?
When will he realize
That he's acting so… dumb?
Dumb?
Is that the right word?
I wouldn't call it smart
No, I would never call it smart.
Definitely not smart.
But dumb?
Inconsiderate?
Out right terrible?
No, he didn't mean to hurt me.
But he did.
He hurt me in a way I'd never been hurt
Before

Wait.
What?
What am I supposed to do?
Is it all right to cry?
I've never done this before.
They said I should be angry.
But I'm not.
Am I?
I know I'm scared
A little confused too.
Yes.
Definitely confused
You have this happen
Then tell me if it makes sense.
He told me that we would be together forever.
But we're not.
And we won't.

Wait.
What?
What about my life?
Shouldn't I have a say in it
Too?
Where did it go?
All my control?
Where did my control over
My life…go?
How can I get past this
This- thing
Without some control
Over my life?
Please don't do this
"It already happened," he tells me
But I'm begging you
Now.
Please.
Please don't.

I'm leaving now.
I'm leaving this all behind.
Far, far behind
I don't need you anymore
I can't need you anymore.
There are others who love me
Love me forever
They say it
And mean it.
You mean nothing
You are nothing
So
I'm leaving this.
I'm getting past this.
Goodbye.

Wait.
What?
Who is this boy
That he makes me smile?
I haven't felt this since-
No.
Yes.
That's what I feel.
But what about-
Nope.
That's what I feel.
Wow.
I mean WOW.
Is he- no.
He can't be- yes.
Yes he is.
He's smiling at me.
Could he possibly be interested?
But what about-
No.
He's gone.
He's done.
He's dumb.
This is now.
He is now.
He is yum.
Hmm
I like yum.
Yum likes me.
This is…
Better.
Good.
Life.