And so it begins...

Someday

2010-05-27T16:01:00.000-07:00

Someday I'll write more frequently. Until then, here's a list that my friend posted. It's a list of 99 things and you are supposed to highlight/bold/italicize the things you've done. I'm pretty happy with my list, however there are many more that I'd like to accomplish. But so far, so good!

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (Well, kind of.)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant...
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight – Do dreams count?! ;)
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating?
88. Had the chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

I Wish I May, I Wish I Might

2010-04-17T14:45:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking about writing a book. I know. EVERYONE writes a book. But the other week we had a family party and my brother and I were talking in our basement. He said, "Annie, have you ever thought of writing a book?" "Um...not really." "I think you should. I can see you writing a comedy about life as a single. You have so many good, funny stories. I really think you should do it. Think about it."

That definitely got me tossing around the idea. I have been single a long time. I mean, we're talking my entire life here, people. I'm pretty much an expert at being (and staying) single. Why not? So...I'm not sure if I will or if it's just some fanciful dream. But he did open a door marked, "Possibility". It would be a big endeavor, but I love writing and it could be fun. An adventure, if you will.

Having read my blog posts, I'm anxious to know what you think about this idea. Good or bad. I want honest opinions.

To write or not to write...a book. That is the question.

Randomness

2010-04-01T22:33:00.000-07:00

My roommates and I have developed a routine. We wake up at 6 am and go for a walk/jog. If not, we try to do something physical to help us with our weight loss goals. Even though we've had some rough patches (Rough patches? The second day, I jogged straight into a pothole and got banged up. Potholes are now the bane of my existence.), all three of us have been dedicated. Yes, we miss a few days here and there, but I'm very proud of us. I love that we are doing this together. But do you know what I love even more? The naps I take after the exercise. Yes, I take a nap before I get up and go to work. Hey! I need all the sleep I can get!

Tuesday morning, I settled down for the long awaited nap and you would not believe the stream of thoughts that barraged me. They went something like this:

'Yes! Time for sleep! Mmmmm. I like sleeping! (pause) I can't believe that Frank (I changed his name) used to date her (we'll call her Carol). Every time I like a guy, it's seems like Carol has dated him. Sheesh! And she's TALLER than the guys. What is the deal?! Does she go for shorter guys or something? Carol isn't even that tall!! I mean, what's wrong with short guys going for short girls like me? Humph! Now come on Annie. You can't get to sleep if you're thinking like this. Stop riling yourself up. Breath. Think of things that will put you to sleep. Sleep. Sleeeeeeeeeeeep. Come to me, sleep fairy or Mr Sandman or whoever you are. (sigh) Should I wear my new shoes to work? I don't know. They've got that heel on them and I might suffer after a few hours of wearing them. But if I wore the shoes, I could wear my new pants. They need to be hemmed, but I could probably get away with it in those shoes. I think I'll wear them. Jewelsp talked about buying more Pop-tarts. I hope she gets the kind without frosting. I don't like the frosting. Or do I? Hmmm...nope I don't. Why can't I sleep?! Sounds like the neighbors leaving. Why is my bedroom always next to the LOUDEST trucks in the neighborhood? Or motorcycles that leave at 12 o'clock at night. I want to sleep now. Maybe I should just watch TV. No. I'm really tired. How can people fall asleep so easy? [angry grunt] I try to think of nothing and nothing turns into a whole lot of something. [flip over and punch pillow] Stupid pillow!'

Eventually, I did fall asleep. I also assure you that those thoughts were not made up. My brain is very random, especially when I'm trying to fall asleep. Do you suffer from the same issue or is it just me? Call it my over-active brain or call it insomnia. Either way, I'm hoping it won't plague me tonight since I'm going to try to sleep now. Maybe by posting this, I will have typed out all the random and Mr Sandman will come swiftly.

I wonder if he's single...

When You Wish Upon A Star...

2010-03-03T20:58:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Annie. She was at work one afternoon when a young, male coworker approached her. This coworker happened to be one of her roommates’ brothers. They shared some brief banter and then he went quiet. His face flushed as he mumbled that he had a question for her. Annie gave him a puzzled, inquiring look and nodded for him to continue. He asked her if she would be willing to go on a date with him to celebrate his recent acceptance into Pharmacy school. She eagerly consented and they set up a time for the anticipated date.

The night arrived. Annie found herself sitting at a square table with the young man, when who should arrive but a few of their fellow employees. With a twinge of frustration, they invited the others to join them. One of the Pharmacists sat in between Annie and the young man. Disappointment sunk in deeper when the Pharmacist and the young man engaged in conversation. Annie sighed and turned to speak with one of her female coworkers. Suddenly, the adjacent conversation caught her attention.

The Pharmacist asked the young man how the date was going. Annie whipped her head towards them with a startled look. ‘Why would he ask that right in front of me?’ Neither acknowledged that she was within earshot. In fact, they acted as if she had disappeared entirely. The young man proceeded to answer, “I really like her.” The Pharmacist pumped his fists in the air and shouted, “Yes! I knew it.” Annie, realizing that she wasn’t supposed to hear their exchange, slowly turned back to her previous conversation. She pretended to listen to her other coworker, but focused her attention on the discussion regarding her. ‘He really should be telling me these things, not the Pharmacist.’ Indirectly finding out that he liked her caused her to chuckle. Maintaining a semblance of composure, she forced back the laughter that threatened to surface. ‘What a date this has turned out to be.’

And so it was. Learning of a young man and his admiration, feeling a reciprocal attraction, Annie left with a smile on her face.

It’s too bad it was all a dream.

Stupid Chick Flicks

2010-02-21T22:09:00.000-08:00

I sit alone in a dimly lit room watching a Chick Flick. Why do I frequent this position? Each time, I am drawn into a fantastical world where everyone finds a “happily ever after”. Oh sure, there is conflict along the way. There is never a doubt that some unforeseen adversary will enter the story. Their perniciousness is always evident to the audience and never to the protagonists. Triumphantly, love conquers all…or they die. These, we know, are the atypical outcomes. Any other outcomes are disappointing to watch. Honestly, I do not care for Chick Flicks that end in despair. But at least those are more realistic.

Each time, the male love interest professes his undying love; a love that will span the test of time. There are those fleeting moments when love is hanging by a thread. The smallest mistake and it is lost forever. But somehow, someway, they manage to work everything out. No price is too great; no problem too big. But where is the reality? I have seen love stories flourish in real life, those who meet and just...know their meant to be together (or what I call the “Saturday’s Warrior Syndrome”). I have seen rewarded patience, where one had to wait for the other and in the end, they were happily married. I have seen whirlwind romances that have actually worked. But normal courtships don’t happen like they do in the movies. And, like always, this leads me to one thought: I’m still single.

So here I sit in a perpetually single state. Most of the time, it doesn’t bother me. I’m happy with who I am and the things I’ve done. I have a career and I’m learning new things every day. Life might be boring at times, but it’s good. I have nothing to feel bad about. Except when I find myself alone in a dimly lit room watching a Chick Flick.

About four months ago (has it been that long?), I became reacquainted with an old crush. I’ve written about him a few times in past posts (aka. the Jerk who broke my heart a couple years ago and how I got over him.). Go ahead and read them if you care to know the story in more depth. We somehow began emailing over the period of several weeks. It didn’t feel like regular “friend” emails. He was seeking details in regards to my life. There was genuine interest there. My first reaction was, “What? Why are you contacting me NOW? I don’t really care to have any contact with you.” But I am a nice person. I obliged the emails and began to look forward to them. He then told me about his quandary. He needed to find an accompanist for his ward choir. They had their Christmas program swiftly approaching and they had no piano players in the area. He asked if I knew of one that was seeking a new ward. Of course, I didn’t, but knowing how it feels to be in between a rock and a hard place, I volunteered for the job. I’ll admit, it was at this point that I felt something magical was about to happen. And it did.

We practiced every week and after, we sat and talked for hours. HOURS! Everything was as comfortable as it had been four years ago. He treated me like I was someone special and yes, he flirted with me. But I thought it was weird that he never touched me. Not even a hug. Family and friends said not to worry about that. It would come in time. We shared so much of ourselves, emotionally. He had recently moved into his newly purchased home and he asked my opinion on decorations, his grand piano (sigh), and other such things. One Sunday, we spent about 10 hours together! I’ve never spent that much time with a guy before.

One week, I bought him a shovel because he didn’t have one. I wanted to be nice; to show him I cared. I used it as a celebratory gift for finishing Finals. The next week, we planned a date for that weekend but it fell through. He actually threw his back out with the shovel I gave him. Sad irony. I told him to not worry about the evening, but that I would bring him some homemade Chicken Noodle Soup. He begged me to stay and watch a movie with him. He spent a while trying to convince me (I didn’t want him overexerting himself. Company can be exhausting.) But I stayed and spent a fun evening with him, hurt back and all. Whether it be the Chick Flicks or just the fact that I’m a hopeless romantic, I really thought that things were finally working out for me. It just felt right. It truly felt magical.

Can’t you just feel it? The turn that my story is about to take? Unfortunately, I had a so-called “friend” who decided to enlighten me on some of the events going on in his personal life. She said that he was dating someone, or at least he had been two months earlier. Of course, I was shocked. But I thought, “Things can change in two months. We’re close enough that he would have told me if he was dating someone. Look at what happened last time. Surely, he wouldn’t do that again.” Well folks, he did. I found out the night following the Christmas program that he was in fact exclusively dating someone. It was so hard it was to get him to admit it. It wasn’t until I came out and asked him if they were exclusive that he actually gave me a straight answer. I’m sorry, but to me, there are lines that should not be crossed when you are “exclusively dating” someone. First of all, you don’t spend HOURS talking to someone of the opposite sex (unless they are purely a platonic friend. Even then, there are boundaries.) You don’t flirt with them either. He never once mentioned her name (which is interesting seeing as she is a mutual friend of ours.). Why was he planning a date with me and asking, no, begging me to stay and watch a movie with him if he was dating someone? She never came to the program and her Facebook status said “single”. (Of course I checked!) How in the world was I supposed to know that this creep was playing me for the fool...AGAIN?! He said that he avoids talking about her because the mere mention of her name causes him anxiety. Does this scenario seem wrong to anyone else?

I literally had no clue that there was someone in his life. As I said before, he never mentioned her. I allowed myself (after much personal struggle) to fall for him all over again. To love him. To have visions of a future that was never to be. How pathetic I felt...feel. This past few months has been so difficult. Feeling rejection again, not once but twice from the same man. It’s a horrible feeling. I laid out my feelings and asked him why he never dated me. His answer, “I don’t know. It just never felt right.” Do you know how many guys have said that to me? I’ve lost count. There is nothing worse than knowing guys haven’t dated you because they “wanted to, but it just didn’t feel right.” What’s not right about it? I’m a good person. I’m a talented, friendly, well-adjusted, Temple worthy individual. So what is so freaking wrong with dating me?

And so it was, the vision of a potential future was shattered and hopelessly I watched as it was swept into the trash. But I’m a fighter and I would not take this lying down. So I told him in no uncertain terms (very thought out and minus the normal female drama) that I was hurt and felt that there were definitely lines that were crossed. It was unfair to me and it was unfair to his girlfriend. I was proud with how I handled things this time and I haven’t had contact with him since. Oh, and did I fail to mention that this “confession” took place the week of Christmas? Yeah, Christmas kind of sucked.

I honestly didn’t want to share this story with you, my blogging friends, but tonight I felt that I needed to relieve myself of this burden. It took me several years to get over him last time and this time it was only a matter of weeks. I frankly never want to see him again. He no longer exists in my life and for that I am glad. The lingering hurt slowly ebbs. The only remnants are the reminders that Satan inevitably throws my way. I was telling my roommate last night that I have felt a significant digression in my self esteem. I know that I’m a good person, but any time you receive a blow like this you are bound to judge yourself harshly. I know, in time, I will rebuild and feel better than before. I don’t know why this happened again. Somehow, I’m grateful. The dates I went on with him were some of my most memorable. They were exciting, comfortable, and just plain fun. I look back and see how often I compared other dates to those I had with him. Now I have rid myself of that ideal. It doesn’t matter how wonderful a guy treats me if he can’t be honest. There will be no more comparisons and maybe that’s one of the reasons I had to experience this again. Who knows.

For those of you that made it this far (I can’t believe I wrote so much), thank you for caring about me! I truly appreciate your love and friendship! As for now, I think I’ll avoid the romance movies and stick with good old fashioned zombie flicks. It may not be reality but there is nothing like watching dead, decaying drones wandering around in search for brains.

Brrraaaaaaiiins.

It's In My Blood

2010-02-18T20:35:00.000-08:00

Music. For some, it's their entire world. For others, it's just something to fill the air. For me, it's definitely in my blood. Today I was bouncing down the stairs at work. I noticed that I was unconsciously stepping in the rhythm of triplets. "Tri-pl-et, tri-pl-et, tri-pl-et." I’ve also found that when I hear the footsteps of others (or anything that has a metronomic feel), I match my mental tempo to the rhythm of their feet. Sheesh! Talk about a music geek. I really need to get a life! But if I do, it had better be up beat. (Ba-Dum, Cymbals crash!)

Seriously?!

2010-01-30T10:14:00.001-08:00

I can't believe I haven't written since July. What a slacker! Just to defend myself, writing has been a burden. I have been extremely busy with work and my computer went to the metaphoric graveyard. I have since (this last Thursday to be exact) bought a new laptop! I am now a member of the MacBook club! I am so excited and can't believe what a novelty it is to have a laptop that works...and works well. The monitor on my old laptop wouldn't stay up. I had to prop pillows behind it or stuff material in the cracks. It was horrendously annoying. One of the first things I said to my roommates, "The monitor stands up by itself. I'm not used to this. It's AWESOME!"

And so you see, I should have more opportunity to fill you in on the doldrums of my life. There have been many ups and downs in the past six months. I wish I could fill you in on everything and maybe I will in time. But as for this post, I won't get into much. Just know that I'm alive and happy.

My job has gone through many changes over the past several months. I moved from having hardly any hours to being full time. Definitely an adjustment, but at least my wallet isn't complaining (until I bought the laptop. But hey, it's an investment!). We are moving the Pharmacy into a grocery store. It will be an adventure indeed. I'm already seeing all sorts of issues that will arise, but I know this is the best move for us. I'm excited and a tad apprehensive, but overall relieved.

So friends, if there are any still out in the vastness of the internet world, I will make it a goal to write more often now that I have the means to do so. Even though I haven't left comments, I have tried to keep updated on your lives through your blogs. You inspire me to keep moving forward and experience the life that's intended for me; to see what's ahead. Thank you and goodnight...I mean, good afternoon.

Tranquilizer Anyone?

2009-07-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

I’m trying something new. First off, I need to share some information about myself so let me state some facts. I’m a woman. (Uh…Duh, Annie!) As such, I tend to be more emotional than I would prefer. (Another news flash, I’m sure.) I’m also very intelligent. If there is one thing that should be known about me, it’s this: I dislike being “talked down” to in any circumstance or being treated in a patronizing manner. Of course, that also depends on who is doing the talking. If it’s a boss or one who is in authority (i.e. knows more about the subject in question), I don’t feel quite so vehement. If it is a teacher or instructor, I also have no problem. However, when it is someone who is on a similar level or is below me in rank (can you tell I’m talking about work?), I find it extremely condescending and most irritating.

However, as I said, I’m trying something new. I’m trying to maintain a level of emotional tranquility. I have been such a roller coaster in the past. It’s something I have always wanted to change. As I read an LDS book called “Our Search for Happiness”, those two words struck me: “emotional tranquility”. I suddenly had a mental picture of my emotional self running around like a mad woman and then being shot with a tranquilizer dart. That alternate self was immediately sedated and sent into a calm, cool-headed condition. She was not easily provoked and had unparalleled control over herself and her temperament.

Now, I’m not really an anxious person. I try to have a positive outlook. But I certainly can get myself riled up. Ask my family. Now, when I start heading down the road of provocation, I remember the words, “emotional tranquility.” So far, it calms me down. It has helped me to imagine that emotional basket case and envision her as she turns into a serene, composed woman. This has been an interesting trial run to say the least.

Since making this mental change, I have had repeated instances (that would have previously driven me up the wall) where I have put this mind game into action. For example, since I got to work today, several of my coworkers have been talking “down” to me. They have treated me as if I have no common sense. I guess if you think about it, common sense really isn’t that common, but I am on of those individuals who use common sense. I promise. Anyways, these associates have been more on the condescending side and it started getting on my nerves. As I wrote earlier, being patronized really boils my potatoes. Being treated like I don’t know a Twinkie from a donut or Skittles from M&M’s is not my favorite pastime. But in the process of writing this blog and repeatedly thinking, “Be Tranquil.” I’ve given the old mental tranquilizer dart the time to kick in.

Isn’t it wonderful that we can choose how to react to things?! Choice is such an important part of life: difficult at times, but worth it.

Now, I choose to go get some lunch. If you couldn’t tell, I’m hungry! (Mmmm…donuts!)

Change is Hard

2009-06-16T16:02:00.000-07:00

Have you ever given advice to someone and realized it was the very thing you needed to hear? That happened to me last Saturday. As I mentioned in my last post, I have recently been plagued with some unforeseen and unwelcome trials. I was hurt deeply. At first I thought I would be able to deal with the situation in an admirable way. However, I have learned over the years that when there is a loss, any kind of loss, there will inevitably be a stage of mourning. This mourning process has been going on too long for me. It sometimes feels as if the emotional roller coaster is going to send me to an early demise. Anger, sadness, hate, pride, fear, resentment, guilt, etc. have been driving me straight to the loony bin…in a padded vehicle…with no windows…or door handles. It’s very dark in here.

Seriously folks, I was complaining to my mom on Saturday. She watched quietly as I riled myself into an anger induced frenzy (okay, it wasn’t exactly a frenzy, but I did rile myself up). She said I wasn’t moving past these issues because I just continued to add wood to the fire. She expertly told me, “Annie, you can’t change the past. You can’t change others. You can only change yourself and the way you view and deal with things.” I agreed but continued to complain about complainers. Ironic, I know. I said, “What is the use in complaining about minute annoyances. Complaining only opens the door for more irritations to surface. And complaining to other ABOUT OTHERS only hurts you…and the person you’re complaining to…and the one you’re complaining about if they found out.” Then I paused. You know how it is when you stop in your tracks and look off in the distance; realization smacking you right in the face. Oh yes, the old adage came screaming at me: “Practice what you preach!”

I shook my head at myself. Complaining truly lays the ground work for more irritations to surface. At work, for example, there is a person and there are annoyances that work my last nerve. I would complain frequently to my family and roomates about this person and evey day I'd see more and more irritations. I finally realized a while ago that there is nothing I can do to change this person or fix those annoying occurrences, so I just have to change my attitude. Guess what? It works! This person and those little things hardly bother me now. I realized that I needed to transfer that view into this current situation. I can’t change the past. I can’t change others. But I can change my attitude, my view, and how I deal with this situation. In order to do this, I realized that I needed to stop complaining. I’m human so the odd complaint will happen. But I need to be more cognizant of what escapes my lips. I do not have power over what I have already said, but I can control what I say from now on.

So I encourage all of you to be aware of what you are saying. The odd complaint is part of life, but when it becomes excessive, it can be detrimental not only to ourselves, but to others also. I’m so glad that I have control over my actions and that I can change! Change is hard, but it can certainly be wonderful!

I'm Not Entirely a Slacker

2009-06-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

I regret that I haven’t written in the past two months. Sometimes, life is full of moments that can’t be written about. I have had an inordinate amount of those events as of late. They are moments that I feel I am unable to disclose. It’s not that I don’t want to spill the entirety of my thoughts out into the vast reaches of the Internet. Believe me; the thoughts, feelings, and confusion alone would go on for quite a while. I just haven't been able to figure out a way to put anything into words...or if I should even make an attempt. I guess I've realized that some things are better left unsaid.

Believe it or not, I recently celebrated my 25th birthday. Yes, I am a quarter of a century in age. Inconceivable! It’s certainly weird thinking I am now in my mid-twenties. I’ll just have to wait and see what the next 75 years or so bring!

Whoa, do I want to live to be one hundred? Hmmm…something else to ponder about.

Pi-Day/My Day

2009-03-24T15:22:00.000-07:00

It started out as Pi-Day but it turned out to be much more…

Sorry guys, I have this random announcer voice in my brain. It appears frequently. I should have written about this a week ago, but I've been quite busy. The day was indeed Pi-Day or as normal people would call it, March 14, 2009. I had one of the most amazing and over-whelming days of my life. I was able to go through the Ogden Temple. This is a momentous occasion for those in my religion. Most individuals go through before their mission or before being sealed (married) in the Temple. I did not go through for either of those reasons. I went through for myself. It is one of the best decisions I have ever made even though I had to wait for it.

Almost four years ago, I turned 21. I fasted and prayed about going on a mission and it wasn’t right for me at that time but I felt that I had a mission to serve here at home (I believe that mission was my service on the dance team and in the choir). However, it also felt like the right time to go through the Temple. I approached my bishop and he dug around to find out if I could. I was rejected. He told me that the church leaders wanted the young women to be at least 23 before they went through unless, of course, they were going on a mission or getting married. At the age of 23, I went back only to be rejected a second time. I became extremely discouraged. A year and a half later (this last January), my friend Jewelsp decided to meet with the Bishop in regards to that very topic. She was given a very encouraging answer. If it weren’t for her following her own personal prompting, I probably wouldn’t have dared approach my current bishop. But I did and now I have received some very sacred gifts and blessings.

I’m very grateful that I was required to wait. First of all, seven months ago my roommates and I set aside one night a week to do baptisms and in so doing established a place in our lives for the things of the Temple. And Second, I felt much more ready than I would have four years ago or even seven months ago. I was open to the things I learned and was prepared for the covenants that I made. I feel so blessed and very special. According to my Mom and roommates I act different: more confident, happier, peaceful, and tolerant. I’m glad because honestly, last year I had the worst attitude. When this year rolled around, I was determined to change that attitude and I believe it has happened…for the most part. I still have the feisty and stubborn Annie in me.

Anyway, my family and I went to The Sizzler after. I am so grateful for my fantastic family! They are the best support system and I’m so glad that we are a forever family! It would not be heaven without them. I love you guys!

In spite of the wonderful events, there was one thing missing:

Pie.

It's Not What You Think

2009-02-21T12:42:00.000-08:00

Last night brought about an event that was a first in the Book of Annie. I went to a bar. I’ll wait…I can almost hear the inevitable gasps. Actually, it wasn’t really a first. When I was in France, I went to a bar and was kicked out for buying a Coke. But last night was the first time I’ve been to an honest to goodness “show your ID or get booted out” bar. The funny thing is that it was my entire families first time also. It made me feel better. Yes, it was a family excursion. It was rather obvious that it was foreign territory by the way our eyes cautiously darted around the room and the way we hesitantly ordered Diet Cokes. But you are probably wondering why we had such an abnormal family night. Allow me to explain.

My brother is the lead singer in a band called Beckond. They are incredible! They had a gig last night at Teazer’s in Ogden and they were selling their first CD for $5; an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. But you have to understand. My family is very supportive of each other and we really just wanted to be there for the guys. We “groupies” try to go to all their shows and have only missed a select few. It was an odd experience, I must say. It’s rather difficult being a single, alcohol-free, LDS woman in a bar. I found myself looking at some of the guys and thinking, “He’s attractive…but wait. He’s in a bar. He’s probably a drinker. Dang-it!” There were a few people there that I know were just supporting the band and not involving themselves in the ubiquitous alcohol. But how is a girl supposed to deduce who is a drinker and who isn’t? That, my friends, is why (even though one of my bosses told me I need to “find someone” and that I should expand my social circle) I don’t go to clubs and bars. Besides the fact that I hate the atmosphere, I don’t drink (never have), don’t smoke, don’t dress skimpily, and am trying to live righteously. Hence, no bars for me!

Funny story: One guy came up to my sister-in-law. He was obviously inebriated. He asked her if she wanted to dance. She couldn’t understand him because it was extremely loud. I heard and tried to tell her what he said. He repeated himself about three times. I finally turned to the guy and said, “Um…she’s married.” You should have seen how fast he vacated the area. When I told my brother (because I thought it was rather humorous), I swear, there was steam coming out of his ears. What can you do? The dude was drunk and Yuni is “smoking hot”! (I was quoting my brother there. But he’s right. She is a gorgeous woman.)

So…I just enjoyed the music. Believe me; Beckond has every chance at making it big! And I think they will! Way to go Rye, Brody, Trent, Jared, and Brad! You guys ROCK! (The funny thing is that I think my brother is the only one that will ever see this. Oh well.)

New Years Excitement

2009-01-05T12:59:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year friends! Are you ready for another short post? Well, you should be. I have so much to write about and yet for some reason, I can’t seem to find the words. I’m sure they’re in the dictionary, but they’re evading me. (I know…that was a horrible attempt at a joke.)

In spite of my obvious lack of inspiration, I really just wanted to complain to the world, or rather, my few wonderful readers. I miss my piano! I miss accompanying so much! I wish I had the room for a piano in my new place. It’s amazing how an instrument can become so much a part of who you are as an individual. I literally feel as if I’ve lost an appendage. I play whenever I get the chance, but those opportunities seem few and far between. I know…poor Annie! Feel sorry for me! You should know I’m rolling my eyes right now. I’m finding that I frequently shake my head at myself. But don’t we all?

Apparently this won’t be as short as I anticipated because I just found a word: Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (The fear of long words). Not only did I feel that this word would touch you to your very core, I felt that I should waste your time by adding it randomly. Mwah ha ha! Yes, well…moving on.

I did want to let you know that my new ward is truly incredible. It fits me and my roommates like the proverbial glove. Most of the ward members are older which is just what we needed. They are genuine, friendly and very welcoming. I couldn’t ask for better people. Also my friends and I have discovered that there are in fact several attractive men. There is one guy in particular that I would love to go on a date with…[wistful, girly sigh]…someday! [Overdramatic Eye Roll] Anyway, I am hoping for the best in that department.

Now is the time to wait and see what life brings and honestly, I don’t mind waiting. Wow, I never thought I’d say that. I’m excited for this New Year! There are thrilling adventures ahead…I can feel it.

I'm Right-Handed

2008-12-21T13:03:00.000-08:00

I made an unusual discovery last weekend. After leaving a poorly attended multi-stake dance, some friends and I drove around downtown Ogden to find another dance club. After failing twice, we stopped at Wal-Mart to buy socks. Then we went bowling…in semi-formals. It was an absolute riot! The looks of puzzlement we received were priceless. But it was among my still-dancing friends and the clatter of bowling pins that I made my discovery. I am a left-handed bowler. Fancy that!

16 Random Things

2008-12-04T12:54:00.000-08:00

I was tagged on Facebook by Confuzzled to write 16 random things, facts, habits, or goals about myself or just...whatever. Since my blog-writing has left a lot to be desired recently, I decided to post it here as well. Thanks to those of you who left comments on my last post. I agree with you about friends. It’s nice to know others feel the same way. And now, on with the show!

1. I think one of the most unique things about me is the number five. I’m five feet tall. I wear size five shoes (well, five and a half depending on the shoe). My ring size is also a five. That, of course, also depends on which finger you’re referring. There are five people in my immediate family. I frequently count by fives at my job (alright, that’s stretching it a tad, but I couldn’t help myself).

2. I randomly dance around the house or office when I’m alone. Dancing is one of my favorite pastimes and unfortunately I’m not involved in a dance team anymore. It’s not uncommon for my face to turn beet red as someone walks in and catches me mid-waltz, clog, salsa, or other. I break into whatever dance my current mood demands.

3. In addition to what was previously mentioned, I also like to burst into song when I’m alone; especially when I do laundry. I find it therapeutic.

4. I am actually a very shy individual; very introverted; pensive. That is, until I get to know people, then I can break myself out of that shell. Sometimes I force myself to be outgoing, which can be extremely difficult. If I can talk, joke, and just be myself around you…consider yourself privileged. :D Oh, and my friends have disagreed with me about this. They don’t think I’m shy at all. That’s because I’ve developed a mighty fine façade. Bully for Grandma!

5. As I said, I can be very quiet, but when I get myself alone, sometimes I won’t shut up! I talk to myself frequently. Not necessarily to myself (“Hi Andrea! How are you?” “I’m doing well, Andrea! Shucks, it’s been a while!”), but I have imaginary conversations with people. For example, if I’m attracted to a guy, I imagine myself having more of a bold personality and approaching him with witty, delightful conversation. On the other hand, one of my favorite ways to deal with problems is to yell at or have a “frank discussion” with the individual…without them actually being present. It works quite well until I rile myself up even more. Hmmm…probably shouldn’t do that.

6. I’m blessed to be perspicacious and intuitive when it comes to others. If they are wearing a façade, unless it is flawlessly constructed like mine [facetious smirk], I can see through them easily, though I may not make that known to the individual. I can detect a genuine smile versus a fake with little problem. So be careful if you’re going to be artificial with me…I know. Actually, I took a quiz testing smiles from those specific categories and I did an extraordinary job (18 out of 20, if I remember correctly)! Aw yeah!

7. Writing is one of my passions, though I don’t do it as often as I would like. I used to write on my blog frequently and that has significantly decreased as some of you are already aware. It’s a hobby I should renew, if not for pure enjoyment, for my sanity. Not only do I love to write, I love to read!!! 8. Audible mastication is something I find thoroughly irritating. As irritating as chewing is, it’s also just plain disgusting. I try not to pay attention, but inevitably my concentration becomes squarely focused on the irritant.

9. I love working with my hands; building anything. I absolutely love tools. It was interesting what happened on Thanksgiving. My family was playing a game where you pick what choice you think suits a specific player. For example, “if Andrea were a sport, what would she be?” The choices: Basketball, Baseball, Golf, Soccer, Tennis, or Swimming. The other players then choose what they deem most accurate. In my case, the question was actually “What kind of store would Andrea most like working in?” The answers: Big 5 Sporting Goods, Claire’s (Jewelry), Lowe’s Hardware, Tiffany’s, McDonalds, or a Farm. Everyone picked Lowe’s Hardware except my Bro-in-law. He apparently didn’t know that about me.

10. I haven’t purchased any Christmas presents yet. Oops. I’m usually on top of this game, but this year has brought about gargantuan changes in life. Therefore, it kind of slipped my mind.

11. I miss the piano SO much!!!! I only get to play once a week now. It’s as if I’ve lost an appendage. Seriously. I don’t want to lose all of the ability I’ve gained over the past couple years. That is a significant worry for me.

12. Learning is something I love to do…when it’s on my own time. I am not a fan of school. When I am interested in a subject, I research it to death (no pun intended). There’s an interesting story behind that last remark (or bizarre depending on how you look at it). After my Grandpa passed away, I had this odd desire to learn all I could about embalming and cremation. And so I did. It was fascinating and disturbing. However, if it’s for a school project (which I don’t have anymore) I lose all motivation. Weird, huh!

13. I love the TV show “Pushing Daisies”, which I’m currently watching on my IPod. Yes, I’m watching and typing and [shifty eyes] working at the same time.

14. Which brings me to this fact: I can multitask exceedingly well. Fancy that!

15. As well as the written word, I love numbers. I’m over accounts at my work and with the way some of the other employees add…it’s a good thing I know what I’m doing. Their accuracy leaves a lot to be desired. Also, I have always been able to memorize numbers with ease. If my mom ever needed to remember a phone number, she told it to me. I, in essence, became the Uhrey phone book. I can still remember things well, but not as effortlessly as I used to. I guess that shows I’m getting old. Oh well.

16. I love reading blogs. Friends’ blogs are the best because, of course, I love them. However, Mental Floss and Cake Wrecks are two of my absolute favorite. Useless facts and hilarity; how can you go wrong?

Friendship Means. . .

2008-11-20T15:54:00.000-08:00

It has been an interesting couple of months. Change has been a frequent visitor. Some of those transitions were welcome and some unwanted. There are so many thoughts and mixed emotions crowding my brain right now. I guess that's the danger of becoming a "blog-slacker". Oops.

One recurring thought has been about friendship. I've noticed that everyone has different definitions of what it means to be a friend. Obviously, I know where I stand on this subject, but I'm interested to see what you, the readers, think. I'd appreciate it if you would share your opinion. I'd also love it if you could share an example (without specifying names) about when or how you knew someone was a true friend to you.

Thank you in advance for your participation. These are my favorite kinds of blogs to write. I hope you will enjoy it also. I'm looking forward to reading your comments!

The End of a Very Long Day

2008-10-20T20:22:00.000-07:00

Let me start by saying thank you, especially to all of you who have prayed in regards to my job and that of my friend, Janel. This past two weeks has been torture. Today, we had individual meetings with our boss and both took rides on the emotional roller coaster.

They have cut our hours several times over the past couple of months. They felt that it wasn’t fair to cut hours anymore. It was time they let some people go. Janel was one of those employees. I was heartbroken. Not only is she my roommate, she’s my best friend. The next couple of hours were tearful ones as we tried to make it through the day. She did an amazing job putting on a brave face. After lunches, our boss took Janel aside and said that he had been thinking about his decision. If they cut some of her hours, they could keep her employed. So the happy news is that she wasn’t fired! She still has a job! Prayers really are answered.

As for me, I still have a job as well. However, my job description has changed drastically. I now have ten times the amount of responsibility on my shoulders. This is causing me extreme anxiety. I know that I can do it, but it is SO MUCH! I truly don’t see how one person can accomplish what is expected of me. But as I stated earlier, prayers really are answered. I just need to remember that the Lord will help me. I need to believe in myself. I need to trust that I will be given the strength to carry out what needs to be done, that I will obtain the knowledge and patience to help others, and that I will be able to accomplish these things while maintaining my sanity…if at all possible. I mean, most of my sanity went out the window a long time ago. But I’d like to keep whatever I have.

Believe me, after these past few weeks, there’s not much left.

A Very Long Day

2008-10-08T16:21:00.000-07:00

As most of you probably know I like to write stories. I enjoy trying to paint a verbal picture; to create a mental image for the reader and myself. Yesterday, I had the kind of day fit for a story. Here’s how it went.

BEEP…BEEP…BEEP. “Stupid Alarm” I groaned. Opening one eye slightly, I rolled over, slapped the snooze alarm, and yanked the covers over my head. I had nine more minutes. It was during that short period of time that the dinosaurs came back. Running for cover, my friends and I jumped into a pile of old tires. We were surrounded. There was no escape. Then Jeff Goldblum appeared out of nowhere to help us. We were extracting ourselves from the pile of rubber when the alarm went off a second time. “Jeff Goldblum? Where did he come from?” I asked myself as I turned off the alarm and dragged myself out of bed. "I haven't seen Jurassic Park in ages." I was the walking dead. My eyes wouldn’t open fully. Due to a lack of sleep, my head throbbed. Walking to the door, the world began spinning. The throbbing became more intense as I stopped to steady myself. “This is going to be a long day.”

After crawling back into bed for another 20 minutes, I felt a little more awake and decided I better hurry if I was going to make it to work on time. I was scheduled to be there a half hour before opening, which is when the order for our inventory usually arrived. Luck was on my side. I made it before the delivery guy. I greeted him and signed for the boxes as usual. I noticed a man standing in the doorway. It was a customer. We still had 15 minutes before we were supposed to open. Now you can call me callous, but I ignore people who stand at the door before opening. They can wait ten or fifteen minutes. Other businesses don’t open doors for impatient customers, why should we? I rolled my eyes and started putting the order away. My boss, however, is a people-pleaser. He saw the man, let him in, and decided to open the store fifteen minutes early. A fellow coworker and I get thoroughly annoyed by this. We come early specifically so we have time to put things away. When he opens early, there is no one else to help customers and we end up spending most of the morning at the register. Fortunately, my boss was helping the man and I was able to work on the order.

Feeling irritated, I was stacking the boxes as noisily as possible, grumbling to myself about my boss’s competence. Two other employees walked in and I decided to stop being ornery. I had two boxes left to unload when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman walking swiftly towards me. I looked up and instead of a face I saw a badge. “I’m from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. We are performing an investigation. Step away from the computers. Do NOT touch the keyboards. There will be no one wandering in and out.” A swarm of men and women in dark jackets followed her. They had blocked both entrances as if we were planning to run away. I glanced at my fellow coworkers and found that all of us stood stunned; rooted in place. Confused and scared to death, I noticed bright yellow letters blaring across each jacket: FDA.

‘I swear that lady said she was from the FBI…’ I thought to myself. She probably was. She acted like it, at any rate. You know the type: the authoritative feminist. She had moved past me and was shouting her commands. A man walked up to me and introduced himself. He asked for my name and then told me to take a seat. I had the distinct impression that they were performing a “good cop/bad cop” routine. Whether that was the case, I’ll never know. I sat and listened as they demanded that my boss shut and lock the doors. The main lady even forced a customer to leave, not even allowing her to purchase the items in hand. Taking long breaths, I tried to slow my heart rate. We were told that they were performing an inspection/investigation and wanted to question each of us. They said we didn’t have to answer questions, but they would appreciate our cooperation. The lady “in charge” said that she didn’t anticipate their investigation taking more than a couple hours. Then she came and asked for my name, address, position in the company, and if I would be willing to be interviewed. I complied and two other people (a man and woman) walked up to me. They asked me to follow them and we went into the hallway.

Keeping my head together was tricky. With the man sitting on my left and the woman on my right, it was hard to think straight. I knew that I wasn’t under investigation. Thankfully, I wasn’t associated with the area under scrutiny. They each pulled out a notebook and commenced the interview. She asked me the questions and they both wrote down my answers. It reminded me of something you’d see on a TV show. They kept asking me the same questions, only they were phrased in different ways. ‘Do they think I’m stupid?’ I thought as I asked for clarification on one such question. The half hour interview seemed to last forever. I found out later that the other interviews didn’t last nearly as long as mine. Why did they interview me for so long? I didn’t know anything. I suppose they were trying to be thorough. The lady said, “Go back and see what they want you to do.” I had to use great self control to walk out of the room and not run like a mad woman.

I left the interview and was told by the lady “bad cop” (who was actually nice to me) that I was “free” to leave. In a daze, I grabbed my purse and walked to my car. I stood there for a second gathering my thoughts and realized that I was shaking uncontrollably. I was shaking so much that I had a hard time putting the key in the door. I sat down and it became apparent that my body was numb. ‘What do I do now? Leave? What if they open up the store again?’ I needed to talk to someone. I needed my mom.

“Are you okay?” I tried to answer but there was a lump in my throat. Unable to speak, I started crying. “What’s going on?” she asked. I told her the horrible events of the day and that I didn’t know what to do. She said she’d come pick me up and help me calm down. I shut the phone and sobbed, fearing for my job and my now unknown future.

My nerves were shot and every phone call made me jump. I went home and remained there for the rest of the day hoping for someone to call me with news. It didn’t matter what kind of news, just something to ease my mind. Janel called me with a little bit of information late that night, but not enough to ease my nerves. I went to bed affirming what I had stated earlier, “Today was a long day.”

I wish I could tell you that I fabricated parts of this story. Unfortunately everything in that story was true. Yesterday was indeed a long, horrible day. I went to work today same as usual, but I am still unsure as to my future. My boss told me that they are facing major decisions in the next few days. I’m really scared right now. Please pray for Janel and me. We don’t want to face sudden unemployment, but if that happens…please pray that we’ll be blessed to find new jobs soon.

[Sigh]

Move On and Press Forward

2008-10-05T17:04:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt an overwhelming amount of love from someone as they proceeded to turn you around and give you a swift kick in the butt? I experienced that yesterday and today. The Semiannual General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints just ended and I feel spiritually edified and also thoroughly chastened. But that’s what I asked for. This may sound silly to you or maybe you do the same, but I prayed that the areas where I need to improve would be made known to me. Let’s just say that almost every talk screamed, “THIS IS FOR YOU, ANNIE!” I can definitely say that my prayers are answered.

The past few months have been relatively difficult for me. I say relatively because in comparison to others, my trials seem minuscule. Many of the tribulations have been due to, well, me. Apparently, I don’t deal well with change. This past little while (amidst much change), I’ve found myself dwelling on the past and letting little things irritate me. I’ve taken offense where no offense was intended. I’ve felt alone and forgotten. The list goes on and on, but I really don’t want to share all of my many flaws with you. Luckily, I realized that I was letting Satan drag me down. He can be so good at that and that scares me. To fight against those thoughts, I have been trying to do better; to be better. But it has been difficult.

There were so many topics and quotes that struck me. I’d like to share a few things that I wrote down, because in explaining my thoughts to you they become clearer to me. Elder D. Todd Christofferson quoted President Thomas S. Monson when he said, “In the private sanctuary of one’s own conscience lies that spirit, that determination to cast off the old person and to measure up to the stature of true potential.” As I have been more “in tune” to the private sanctuary of my own conscience, I have come to know that I have enormous potential, greater than I can even imagine. Otherwise, why would Satan work so hard to destroy my self-worth? Recognizing the determination I have inside, it’s my responsibility to measure up.

So what about my irritations? What do I do when people hurt me? Robert D. Hales said, "A kind letter to the editor, a conversation with a friend, a comment on a blog, or a reassuring word to one who has made a disparaging comment; I assure you, to answer our accusers in this way is never weakness. It is Christian courage in action." He talked about being and staying on the high ground. In order to do this, I need to resist my anger, forgive myself and others (especially those who meant no offense), and turn the other cheek. But from experience, I know I can’t do these things alone. I need the Saviors help. The Atonement is not just for sin. It’s also for sorrow. I need to put those burdens on the Lord. He already suffered. He won’t suffer more.

Most of all, I need to stop dwelling on the past. As President Thomas S. Monson said, "Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey and share our love with friends and family." That also ties in to what Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin said, “Learn to laugh.” In Backward Glances, I wrote about how I tend to make myself laugh. I need to use this to my advantage. Laughing is a wonderful gift and I know that it will help me find joy in the journey.

Thank you, friends, for sharing with me your trials and triumphs. Your blogs inspire me to be better and also let me know that I’m not alone in struggles. President Henry B. Eyring quoted Mosiah 18:21, “And he commanded them that there should be no contention one with another, but that they should look forward with one eye, having one faith and one baptism, having their hearts knit together in unity and in love one towards another.” If we (in unity) follow the Savior, we can become what He wants us to be, collectively and as individuals. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf stated, “If only we could glimpse for a moment what the Lord has in store for us in this life and the next, our faith would never be shaken and our hope would never falter.” There are great things in store for us. We just have to move on and press forward!

Quirks?

2008-09-15T20:05:00.000-07:00

The Rules:
Link the Person who Tagged you.
Mention rules on your blog.
Tell about 6 quirks of yours.
Tag 6 fellow bloggers to do the same.
Leave a comment to let them know (or be rebellious like me and don’t!).

1. Ever since I was a child, I would make up random songs all the time about…well, anything. As you can see by my past couple of blogs, this quirk is still going strong. The thing I find humorous is that my nephew now does the same thing!

2. I randomly punch people. Okay, I don’t actually punch others, but I do pretend to sock them in the kisser occasionally. It usually happens when I’m in a particularly odd or hyper mood. Just ask my friends and coworkers.

3. Gummy worms have to be hard for me to eat them. One summer, at a Youth Conference, I ate melted gummy bears and later threw up. I ended up having the flu, but now I can’t eat gummy bears in a heated gelatinous state.

4. Staying with the food peculiarities, I hate frosting. It is sickly sweet and disgusting. This also stems back from my childhood. My grandma had bought a cake decorated with a forest of frosting flowers. I was given a piece with a clump of “roses” the size of my head (I was a small child). I tasted one and didn’t like it, so I scooped the other flowers onto the side of my plate. My grandma wouldn’t let me leave the table until I had eaten the entire conglomeration of flowery glucose. It ended with the sweet, creamy spread forcefully exiting my stomach. No more frosting for me…ever! Blech!

5. I’ve been known to do odd things while brushing my teeth. Usually, I start singing random songs to my roomies (frequently from the Simpson’s, Sesame Street, Disney, or whatever has been stuck in my head that day). I talk to Janel about pointless things, but she can’t understand because I have a toothbrush shoved in my mouth (which is extremely funny to me). I also like to clog while I clean my pearly whites, but that inevitably ends with me laughing and drooling toothpaste on the floor. Not a pretty sight, but highly entertaining for my roommates. But the most common occurrence and by far my favorite is when Janel and I start gurgling duets.

6. This isn't a quirk, but Jewelsp wrote about dating and I wanted to as well. In the course of two dates, I went out with 5 guys. That sounds odd, but it’s true. On the first date, one of my friends set me and two of our friends up with three of her date’s friends. The problem was that we didn’t know which friend was our date. There was one that I liked more than the others, so I picked him (in my mind). He stayed near me too, so I decided he was my date. In actuality, there were no set dates except the original two. Whew! If you think that was confusing, you should have been on the date. The second date I wrote about in a blog. I was going on a date with a young man who had one of his friends tag along. Since the friend didn’t have a date, I sort of became a date to both of them. That’s what I call speed dating or accelerated rejection…for them. It didn’t take long to decide I would never subject myself to a second date with either one of them.

I now tag Lanae, Geasher, Janint, Yuni, Brea Marie, and Confuzzled!

The Young and The Addicted

2008-09-12T14:02:00.000-07:00

My coworkers and I have been joking about whether our place of business is in fact a Pharmacy…or a Soap Opera (as you can see in my friend, Janel’s, post). We’ve decided to call it “The Young and the Addicted”. While at work yesterday, I began writing lyrics for our “Broadway episode”. This song (the first I’ve created for the show, thus far) focuses on the excuses people make in order get their medications early (which usually consist of narcotics and/or controlled substances). Enjoy! I certainly did.

Sing to the tune of “America” from the musical, West Side Story. It starts with the chorus:

You need to give me my drugs right now.
They fell and went down the sink somehow.
You need to give me my meds early,
Because this isn't my fault, you see.

I know this is gonna sound odd.
I swear I'm not some kind of fraud.
I know my meds are not on time.
I think they were stolen by a mime.

[Chorus]

My daughter got into them twice.
Mom was in pain; I was being nice.
I forgot them at my friends’ house.
They must have been eaten by a mouse.

[Chorus]

The throbbing pain came back again
Instead of one I just took ten.
The patch stopped working, what could I do?
I need the meds, so I chewed through.

[Chorus]

I took more pain meds 'cause I fell.
Twenty-Fifth Street is where I sell.
I know pharmacies have strict rules,
But I consider you all fools!

[Chorus]

The End! Unless, however, I think of more songs for our soap opera. I’m sure it will inevitably happen, so stay tuned!

And the Winner is. . .

2008-09-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

Nobody! However, I’d like to thank those of you who participated in this weeks rousing edition of “Guess the Topic of the Poem”. Unfortunately, none of the answers were correct, though they easily could have been. My poem can relate to many areas of life, but as I said in the last blog, I only had one event in mind. Now let me share that inspirational incident with you!

This poem wasn’t about any specific person, love, change, waiting for a traffic light (Jewelsp), or a blind date. It was (I kid you not) in regards to a FedEx Delivery. Yes, I was waiting for a package.

Thursday night I received a call from my mom. She informed me that they had received a FedEx notice on their door. You know the form that says “We tried to deliver at ____ time on ____day but you were not home. We will try to deliver again on ____ day or you can pick it up after ____time at the nearest FedEx building located in ______, a city near you.” She had deduced that it was a package for me (I upgraded my cell phone…for FREE! Ah YEAH!) But she wouldn’t be home Friday afternoon because she had errands to run. Seeing as the package was for me, I was more than willing to “house-sit”. And so I began waiting…and waiting…continually…over the next several hours. I began singing my irritation out loud (yes, singing, to myself) and the poem was born. My mom came home and we...continued waiting. Finally I heard the screeching brakes of a truck; music to my ears, ironically enough. My package had arrived! I watched from the window in anticipation as the delivery guy drove up to our house, stopped, and then left. He never attempted to drop off the package. “WHAT THE FLIP?” Annoyed, I decided to go home to finish my laundry. My mom called FedEx later and found out they’d switched North and East on my address. To add to the frustration, we would now be required to go pick up the package from headquarters. [Irritated snort]

There you have it, friends. The inspiration to my poem: FedEx and their oh-so-reliable service. Okay, I’m sorry. FedEx is great! I know a lot of their delivery personnel and they are very nice people. I really should be irritated with my phone company for putting the wrong address information on said package. But, you see, when I checked the online confirmation, the address was correct. [Overdramatic eye roll + exasperated sigh] But hey, let’s look at the bright side. At least I got two blogs out of the experience.

Waiting

2008-09-05T20:01:00.000-07:00

This poem could have several meanings. I am happy to say I only had one event that sparked this piece of writing. But, honestly, I can’t wait to hear your interpretation.

Waiting

Do you think I have all day;
That I sit and wait for you?
Do you think this is a game;
Something I choose to do?

Do you think I have the time
Or the patience to wait this long?
You promised you would come today.
By believing you, I was wrong.

The sound of screeching brakes
Cause me once again to hope.
I watch you slow, then drive away.
Feeling rejected, I sit and mope.

I imagine why you’d lie to me.
You were one I could always trust.
But on you, I see I can’t depend.
Disappointment on me is thrust.

This really isn’t fair to me.
Am I just a name to you?
I’m done. I’ve decisively had enough!
I can finally say, “I’m through!”

I’m interested to see what all of you wonderful readers think I’m talking about. Initially, I wanted to give this poem a different title, but it would have given everything away. Should I tell you? Or should I let you guess? Hmmm…I’m going to let you guess. Imagine away, dear friends! Make your interpretations as wild as you desire. I will let you know in my next blog if you are correct or if you’re out in left field.

Simply Magical

2008-08-27T21:46:00.000-07:00

My life has never been what you would consider a fairytale. I’ve had “magical” moments, but nothing that screamed, “DISNEY!” That was the case until this evening. Everything in this story is completely true. So sit back, relax, and relish in my Disney-like encounter. You may hurry and pop some popcorn if you so desire. You could also dress in a giant hotdog costume and sing, “Let’s all go to the lobby.” Not only would that prepare you for my story, it would also be highly entertaining…for me.

My roommate, Janel, and I went for a stroll this evening. We had no set course; that detail was left to chance. We found ourselves entering a wooded area. Our footsteps on the path offered a steady rhythm in the tranquility of the evening. Our laughter was accompanied by the rustle of leaves. As we walked deeper down the path, the trees were replaced by giant cattails. The scent of swamp hung heavy in the air. We turned onto a secluded trail and saw the bending blades of grass in a large glade. I glanced across the wide expanse of fluttering strands when something seized my gaze. The most beautiful deep brown eyes met mine. I stopped so suddenly that Janel looked at me in surprise, but my gaze never left his. By the look in his chocolaty eyes, I knew he was feeling the same emotions that were cascading through me. My heart was racing and there was a twinge of fear. But the magic of the moment was undeniable. I felt a rush of excitement, giddiness, tenderness. Finally remembering to breathe, I inched closer afraid to disturb the enchantment. He didn’t move, but his gaze never left mine. Suddenly, footsteps and laughter were heard. Anxiety welled inside because I knew this would ruin the ethereal air. I tore my gaze from his and turned and saw some runners approaching. ‘No!’ I thought. ‘Go away! You’ll ruin everything.’ Spinning around, I frantically searched the path to find that he had disappeared.

Knowing that all Disney movies end happily, I decided to maintain a positive outlook. Hopefully, I would see him again soon. And I did. I saw him hiding behind a tree. He was such a dear, or should I say deer. Yes, my magical moment was with an animal. It was an incredibly Disney experience except he didn’t start talking to us, which would have been AWESOME! And there were no men in tights. Rats!

All I Have to Say is. . .

2008-08-26T20:57:00.000-07:00

"Badgers?!? BADGERS?!? We don't need no stinking BADGERS!!!"

Sands of Change

2008-08-03T16:55:00.000-07:00

Time continuously flows, and yet,
The world has ceased spinning.
Everything loved is now lost.
There is no turning back the clock.
A treasure once held so delicately,
Now broken, crumbled,
Cascading through limp fingers;
Sand sifts through an hourglass.
In helpless agony, eyes are glued,
The thin sandy stream pours swiftly.
Dreams rush into the granular whirlpool.
Glassy surroundings offer no friction.
As the sands fall, so do the tears.
Both trickle down a smooth surface.
Nothing can save the shattered hopes.
The past fills with fragments;
Piles of regret augment.
Each grain flows to the ultimate destiny.
Time cannot be recovered.
What is lost cannot be restored.
The future lays empty, void of sand,
The figure stands still, hesitating.
The sands cannot be reversed,
But can begin once more with the turn of fate.
Shaking hands reach to rotate the clock,
Will this span be filled with regret?
Or is time, in fact, the great healer?
The choice is for the individual.
Knuckles wipe away at fears rushing down.
A sigh escapes, hands clenched,
A decision made; no more uncertainty.
Determined hands turn the Timer.
Walking away, a smile crosses worn lips.
Life is given the chance to begin anew.

To Be Rude or Not To Be Rude

2008-07-30T15:02:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wanted to jump up on the counter, desk, or nearest flat surface at work and shout, “I quit!” Well, I did that yesterday. Yes, I pointed my finger straight at my boss and before the cameras yelled those two words. There were those that looked at me like I was crazy (my boss being one of them) and there were coworkers that looked upon me with awe. I could see the desire in their eyes to imitate what I had just done. There was applause heard from customers and fellow employees. With my head held high and a smile fixed upon my face, I jumped off the counter, grabbed my belongings and marched outside.

It’s too bad that the smile was due to the fact that the previous paragraph was actually a daydream. That’s right, I didn’t actually quit my job, but I certainly had the desire. On Monday, I thought of the barred door and windows that surround us at work and instinctively felt that I was on my way to prison. But from this prison, there is no escape. Day after day, I find myself trapped behind a counter, helping people that treat me like I’m incompetent. Not all of the customers act this way, but there are those patronizing people that speak to you as if you’re five. During these times or immediately following, I indulge in another fantasy that will never come to fruition. I see myself leaping across the counter, taking their neck in my hands, and either strangling them or slapping them repeatedly. Those of you that know me know that even at my meanest moments, I could never actually do this. I, in all seriousness, would smack the person and instantly start begging for forgiveness. I act tough, but I literally don’t have a mean bone in my body. At least not that I’ve discovered as of yet. If I am in fact mean, it’s unintentional and I feel horrible. And so this flight of the imagination is in all reality just that…my thoughts souring into the clouds of what might be if I ever lost my kindliness.

How would life be if I was truly a mean person? Well, I wouldn’t have friends. I’d probably be at odds with my family. My coworkers would hate me, as would customers because in my meanness, I would definitely leap across counters to strangle them in their idiocy. Life would be very lonely. I guess it’s good I’m not insolent, or at least not intentionally. Though it is fun to drift off momentarily imagining all the horrible things I could do. Mwah ha ha!!

"You Can Lay 'em on My Coffin"

2008-07-27T20:34:00.000-07:00

I went to a Single’s Ward today for the first time in over a year and a half. The last experience left a bitter taste in my mouth. I’m happy to share that this time it was actually enjoyable. I’m grateful I had friends with me, so it was less awkward than it could have been. But this could be a really fun experience and a wonderful way to get to know people. I’m really excited!

As you probably know, I’m a people watcher. It was especially entertaining to watch the interaction between the ward members. For the most part, they seem very accepting and fun! There was a fair share of “meat” lovers out there, the people (guys in our case) that have to check out the new “menu options”. Today's special happened to be my friends and I. There was one guy in particular that caught my attention. He reminded me of someone and I just couldn’t put my finger on who that was. At first he made me think of Fonzie from “Happy Days”. He had a leather jacket on, even though it’s July and extremely hot. His hair was meticulous. There was an air about him, a certain level of self-confidence. He seemed very sure of himself around the women of the ward.

After sacrament, we were waiting in the hall to go to class and I had an encounter with him. I had staked out a place against the wall and was listening to the various conversations between my friends and others. Suddenly, there he was. He entered the ongoing conversation and stood next to me. But he wasn’t just standing next to me, he was…leaning. It struck me like lightning. He was just like Joe Junior on “While You Were Sleeping”. Joe Fusco Jr. I waited for him to say, “Hey Luce, is this guy bothering you?” in that oh-so-quotable accent. I also waited for him to vacate the area. He kept talking to no one in particular and wouldn’t stop staring at us. It was quite awkward.

Joe: “Ok Annie, it’s either me…or him.”
Annie: “Him.”
Joe: “You don’t have to answer right away.”

That dialogue didn’t actually happen, but I wouldn’t have been surprised and should probably start preparing myself. He did, however, keep popping up around me and my friends. He didn’t have flowers like the “ones they use in the winner’s circle at Arlington”. Maybe he’s saving that for next week. I just hope I don’t find him in my closet trying on my heels.

Annie, Janel, and Jewelsp’s Medical Guide to Attraction

2008-07-25T23:32:00.000-07:00

My roommates and I have a unique way of labeling the different levels of attractiveness in males. For many girls you will hear, “Oh, he’s so hot!” “That guy is so cute.” “Did you see that boy? He’s absolutely gorgeous!” “I think he’s so handsome!” “Look at that nice eye candy.” “That is one A-class piece of meat!” Okay, I’ve only heard a few girls say the last one, but I have heard it. In my opinion, it’s degrading. Get it? A-class…is degrading. I know that was bad. I think that calling a guy cute, beautiful, or even gorgeous is emasculating. I don’t think men are cute. I think little boys are cute. Like my nephew. In my opinion, beautiful and gorgeous are adjectives for women. Well, a guy can have beautiful eyes or a gorgeous smile, but as a whole, my friends and I refer to them as attractive. But it gets tiresome referring to men as only attractive or even handsome and so the following classifications were established.

Have a Heart Attack and Die. This commonly designates celebrities. Those males that are so attractive there is NO way they’d go for us. They’re nice “eye candy”, if you will, but unattainable. We gaze upon them and daydream, but that’s all it is…a dream. Besides, if we have a heart attack and die, there’s no way to enjoy the pleasure of their appearance. We’re dead.

Have a Heart Attack and Recover. This is the best classification according to me and my roomies. The guy is extremely good-looking, but there’s the hope of having that attraction reciprocated. He makes your heart stop for a minute, but with the use of a good defibrillator, we’re back to normal.

Have a stroke. These men are also very good-looking, but less so than in the previous categories. They cause symptoms of weakness, paralysis to parts of the body, and frequently speech difficulties. But these guys are more likely to requite your affection.

Have a Mild Stroke. The apoplexy that occurs when these men walk past is not quite so severe. The viewer experiences the same symptoms, but they are lessened. We’re attracted and they’re definitely date material, but not our first choice.

Heart Starts Racing. This is pretty self-explanatory. Fast or irregular heart beats occur when these men pass by. They have a certain charm about them that causes this quickening pulse, but no lasting impression. However, our feminine pride gets the best of us and we still suck in our stomachs and strike a pose.

Mild Heart Palpitations. When these men enter visibility, our hearts skip a beat but then swiftly return to normal. There is something mildly pleasing to the eye, but no substance to maintain that allure. No dating interest is developed and the patient swiftly recovers…her senses that is.

No Reaction. This is also pretty unmistakable. We feel no attraction or repulsion towards these men. They’re simply fellow inhabitants of this planet we call Earth.

Mild Cause of Indigestion. These are men that we are not attracted to in any way. We’re not really disgusted by them, but there is no hope of a relationship due to our lack of interest. They’re not bad, just not our type.

Major Cause of Indigestion. These guys cause our stomachs to turn and so we stay away from them. Not only are they repulsive to us, they are irritating. There is absolutely no interest in dating or friendship and we make sure we don’t cause any wrong ideas in the male. Seeing them can sometimes cause us to throw up a little in our mouths.

Forceful Removal of Stomach Contents. Avoidance at all cost. We will do whatever is in our power to remove ourselves from their company. They’re very presence causes the skin to crawl and the bile inevitably to rise. To say the least, they’re creepy and there is no hope on heaven or earth that they will even be given a date. Are we harsh? If you met these men, you would not think us caustic. Believe me. Men, you know there are women like that as well. So don’t think us judgmental. It’s simply a fact of life that there are people who just make you want to hurl.

Well, there you have it, the unique way my friends and I distinguish attractiveness in the opposite sex. It may be bizarre that we differentiate the handsomeness of men by using health issues/physical reactions. This way we know exactly what level of attraction the other feels when seeing a man pass by. It’s a rather handy way of expressing our appeal in regards to specific males we currently like as well. If you were offended by these classifications, I can only assume you’re a guy. I find our uniqueness quite humorous and wanted to share the hilarity with you. Hopefully, if there are men out there with similar labeling techniques, I will end up in the heart attack and above range. Heck, I’d even settle for a stroke.

Six Months and Counting

2008-07-22T23:49:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a young woman. She was preparing to enter the realm of peaceful slumber. Lowering her weary body onto the bed, she willed it to relax. Slowly her eyelids drifted shut when suddenly she heard a soft tap at her door. “Come in.” “Annie, there is an incredible storm outside. I just thought you might want to watch.” And so the young woman jolted out of bed and ran outside to enjoy.

My new roommates and I spent the evening storm-watching which happens to be one of my favorite things to do. We stood on our back porch mesmerized by the show…well; I crawled up on the roof. The other ladies wouldn’t come with me for fear of being struck by lightning. I only stayed there for a few minutes since the lightning did in fact creep increasingly closer. Personally, I do not want to become a lightning rod (not that I’m tall enough. The lightning would probably look at me and laugh. “You’re the shortest lightning rod I’ve ever seen!” You know it’s late when I start anthropomorphizing a storm.). Anyway, it was eerily beautiful! Both of my roomies said that whenever they see a storm, they inevitably think of me. And so we joked, “It’s raining…Annie, come here!” “Oh look, there’s a thunderstorm…Annie, come watch!!” “A tornado is coming this way…ANNIE; you’re supposed to run AWAY from the tornado!” We all agreed that of the three of us, I would be the one to be a tornado chaser. I, seriously, would be at the front of the action (like in the movie Twister), in the barn, holding on to a dinky water pipe, staring at the inside of a tornado, with Bill Pullman who we decided is more attractive than Bill Paxton, which is why he’s the one in the barn holding onto the pipe with me instead of the latter. That was quite the run on sentence. Anyway, it was a wonderful memory for our new home. I hope there are many more storms that we can enjoy together!

Speaking of enjoyment, it has been 6 months to the day since I started this blog. I’ve shared some of my own personal memories and I’ve made new ones along the way. I don’t regret starting this writing adventure. It’s been a wonderful release for me and a great way to stay connected with other wonderful bloggers. I thoroughly enjoy writing and starting this blog half a year ago let me begin the love affair anew.

Here’s to the next six months! May they be as fun as the last!

Closure

2008-07-14T10:05:00.000-07:00

It happened. I have been dreading it for a while, but it happened nonetheless. Last night marked my very last performance with the Institute. It was pretty hard, to be honest. I had a lot of time to reflect, since I ended up sitting by myself next to a fake tree. I was pondering the fact that after choir (which is basically over) I won't ever see many of those friends again. There's always the occasional run in, but for the most part...this isn't just goodbye to the Institute, this is goodbye to some dear friends. I’m grateful for the chances I had to get to know them and also for all the opportunities I’ve been given because of my time at the Institute. I’ve been able to dance, sing, and play in more places and for more people than I ever imagined. Some of those people have been very important…well, they all are in their own way, but some have been General Authorities of the church. It’s been an incredible six years.

Friends, this is my fourteenth blog in fourteen days. I believe I have accomplished writing every day during the entire blogathon. Bully for Annie! This is it for a while which is probably good, considering my topic “well” has dried up. Thanks Janel for giving me the opportunity to join you on your quest! Now we’re both going to start new adventures! Speaking of which, I think I need to buy us some ice cream!

Commenting

2008-07-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

Thank you to everyone that leaves comments on my blog. I love getting online and reading your opinions on what I’ve written (even if it’s not in agreeance with me) or seeing that you support me in various areas. I’ve heard the same thing from others. Comments allow you to learn that others are actually reading your blog and it gives you incentive to keep writing. They also just make you feel good, as if you’ve accomplished something. Personally, they make me smile. When I check my email and there is a comment, I break into a huge grin. Having extraordinary people (like all of you) makes blogging worth while.

Please continue leaving comments and I will try and return the favor. You know the golden rule: “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. I say, “Leave comments for others as you would have them leave comments for you.” If you want me to leave more comments on your blog, just let me know. I will happily oblige.

I hope this didn’t seem weird. I just wanted to say thanks and let you know that I truly appreciate the time you take to let me know you care! Thank you all for being so wonderful!

It's About Time

2008-07-12T14:27:00.000-07:00

I’m moving next week! And yes, I’m barely starting to pack. It's about time I began gathering and organizing my seemingly endless supply of possessions. I probably should have started a long time ago, but…what’re ya gonna do?

This is short, boring, and pointless, but I promised to blog for two weeks and there are only a few days left. I won’t give up now. Though, I do believe I’m the only person that has written every day. I should get some sort of prize! Never mind, I’ll just make myself brownies or eat ice cream. As I mentioned yesterday, that’s always a good reward!

Well, hooray for another uneventful Saturday. I’m telling you; once I officially move out I’m going to start having action-packed Saturdays. Believe you me. Or don’t believe me. You can just wait and see…I mean, wait and read!

Happy Free Slurpee Day!

2008-07-11T15:44:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, I haven't had the greatest day. I'm irritable and frustrated. First of all, I'm working on my day off. I have a blind date tonight and I don't want to go (Hopefully, it won't end in horror like the last one. It's not looking promising.). Rude people have called and yelled at me. Some haven't even been customers. I had some delivery guy chew me out for something that wasn't even work related. My blood pressure is through the roof. It's probably gone further than that. And I didn't get a free slurpee. Oh well, I've heard they're the size of a thimble. I guess I'm not missing out on much in that department. Besides, with the way prices are rising, free probably means they cost 50 cents.

Thankfully I have wonderful friends who are there when I need them. You know who you are, so I won't embarrass you by sharing names. Thank you so much! Your thoughtfulness brightened my day! I am extremely grateful for friends like you!

Just for the record, (I'm sure you already know this.) ice cream makes everything better. Unless you're lactose intolerant. It's a dang good thing I'm not allergic to dairy. My brother is lactose intolerant. We were discussing this a couple weeks ago. Apparently, the makers of soy ice cream don't believe in giving flavor options. Neither do the makers of sugar-free ice cream (my dad is diabetic). My brother said, "What? Do they think that just because I'm allergic to milk that also means I'm allergic to flavor?" My response, "Can't...handle...flavor. Need...Epinephrine...shot." This is now a family joke. "Sorry, I can't have that. It has flavor."

So if you too are having "one of those" days, eat some ice cream. Unless you're flavor intolerant. Then eat some tofu. That will really make your day better (Can you sense the sarcasm?).

Frozen Insanity

2008-07-10T20:51:00.000-07:00

I’m currently eating an otter pop. The flavor is jazzy Louie-Bloo Raspberry so my tongue has a blue tint. I haven’t had one of these sugary treats for years. My mom purchased it from our little neighbor kids. Maybe I should try selling some to make a few extra bucks. I’m telling you, it’s good, but I have a sugar headache. It’s strange, really. When I was little, I would eat popsicles and then proceed to bounce off the walls. Now I just get a headache. Where did the good days go? I want to bounce off walls again. Maybe I could spend a couple minutes in the local Behavioral Health Institute. Perhaps they’d let me spend some time in a seclusion room where I could bounce off walls that are padded. Although after watching me leap around the room, they might have me committed. Looking on the bright side, when I’ve finished bouncing and show them that I’m indeed rational and sagacious, they could give me a certificate that says, “Annie is not insane. She merely ate an otter pop.”

My One-Minute Blog

2008-07-09T17:44:00.000-07:00

This is Annie’s blog.
Annie’s blog this is.
This is a short blog.
Annie is writing a short blog.
Write, Annie, write.
Annie doesn’t have time for creativity.
Creative this is not.
Annie is fulfilling her blogathon requirements.
Blog, Annie, Blog.
This is Annie's 50th blog.
More time should have been spent.
There is no time for celebration.
Annie has to leave now.
Busy is what Annie is.
Bye, Annie, Bye.

That was dumb, Annie…dumb!

Wipe-Out

2008-07-08T18:38:00.000-07:00

What is it about seeing people fall that makes others laugh? There’s a show on TV called “Wipe-Out” and I find it hilarious. My entire family gathers to have a good laugh at others expense. I think what I enjoy the most is when the arrogant individuals turf it. It’s what I call poetic justice. One of our favorite parts is where the contestants leap onto huge red balls. There are four in a row and they are required to hop across to a platform. We have only seen one person accomplish the task. The rest bounce off into the awaiting water below. The commentators are hysterical. They have perfect comedic timing. It’s prerecorded, so I know they have time to think of what to say, but seriously…they picked great individuals to do the job.

If you need a good laugh watch Wipe-Out, unless you feel sympathy pain. It looks pretty painful at times. Hilariously painful! Am I horrible to laugh at the humiliation of others? Oh well, they’d laugh at me. Besides, it’s great to watch after dealing with customers that you want to punch in the face. There are several I’d like to see get thrown off the big red balls or face-plant it in the mud. Maybe I should set up a Wipe-Out course at work. Mwah ha ha! Genius!

Cranial Radio

2008-07-07T18:52:00.000-07:00

My brain is like a radio station. There are constantly songs transmitting through my head. I find this funny because they are some of the most random musical pieces. There are a few regulars that play during awkward moments or just pop out sporadically, but for the most part, they are completely desultory. For example, “Auld Lang Syne” and “Hail to the Chief” are two songs that are frequently broadcast.

Last week, I recognized just how strange my cranial radio station is from an occurrence at work. In a 5 minute span, I had the following songs play through my head: The theme song from “2001: A Space Odyssey”, “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies”, and a popular (very catchy, yet awful) song called, “I kissed a Girl”. That same day, “Ghostbusters”, “Kidnap Mr. Sandy Claus”, “Peter and the Wolf”, and “The Imperial March” followed soon after. I told my friend, Janel, that my brain was a juke-box. I was wrong. Nobody has ever paid me to “play” the songs. Since they burst forth in the form of singing, humming, or whistling, my coworkers would be more apt to pay me to stop the music. My fellow employees (save a few) are not musically inclined and they don’t appreciate the free entertainment I frequently provide.

However, if you are ever looking for entertainment, come spend some time with me. I’m sure I’ll be in the middle of transmitting theme songs from Nintendo, tunes from Sesame Street, melodies from various musicals, or something equally random. You may end up having weird songs stuck in your head, but I promise I won’t make you pay…too much.

Did Anyone get the License Plate Number?

2008-07-06T12:01:00.000-07:00

I am in pain. My body feels as if a truck slammed into me and then dragged me down the highway. So if you’ll excuse me, I don’t really feel like blogging today. I’m going to lie down and hopefully slip into blissful slumber. Thus, I bid you adieu!

Check Engine

2008-07-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

It happens to everyone. Yes, we all must experience car trouble. Whenever I see a “Check Engine” light, I shudder. It reminds me of the first car I ever purchased. It was a Subaru-Isuzu Station wagon and it lasted me a total of one month. The oil and anti-freeze lines crossed and I ended up with a cracked engine block. My warning: Check Engine. However, by the time it came on, it was too late to do anything. Scrap metal was the end result of that first major expense. I learned a ton about cars in the process, so I suppose I should be grateful.

That cursed light came on today in my current vehicle. Having recently changed the oil (Yes, I am very handy to have around. I change my own oil and everything.), I knew that couldn’t be the trouble. I checked the fluid levels. No problems there. My dad recommended taking the car to Auto Zone. They checked it for free. But isn’t it just my luck that the test would come back inconclusive? There were a few “could be” problems, but no definite reason for the warning light to be activated. Now my plans for tonight will consist of fixing the possible issues. Yep, I’ll be changing the fuel filter and one of the oxygen sensors…so exciting. It’s just how I wanted to spend my Saturday evening. (I’m being sarcastic.) Honestly, I enjoy tinkering with my car, but I’m rather tired from working all morning. Gratefully, I have a dad who is very adept at car repair. He’s taught me all I know and said he’d help me tonight. I’ll get some father/daughter bonding time. It's the only benefit of the entire evening. Usually, he tells me what I need to do, and then lets me do it on my own (with his supervision, of course.). I learn hands on, so it's a great way to gain knowledge about cars. It's cheaper too.

Friends, I hope your Saturday is more enjoyable than mine is going to be. Go have fun for me! I’ll be spending the night covering myself in car grease and pondering how much longer it will be until the vehicle self destructs.

How Sweet It Is

2008-07-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

Last night, my friend and I went to a play. We had a couple friends who were in the cast and decided to give some support. First of all, I’m not a fan of Community Theater. I judge pretty harshly considering I used to be very involved in theater and have a very critical (sensitive) musical ear. I know that’s horrible of me, but that’s what happens when you have musical parents and a mom that was a drama major. Luckily, my friend and I are the same in this department. We share opinions on musicals and actors and they are usually identical. Last night was no exception. For the most part, they did a pretty good job. There was a fair share of sour notes and over acting, but it was enjoyable.

I don’t know why I’m writing like a critic. I hadn’t planned on writing about the play in and of itself. I wanted to share a personal triumph I experienced. I first learned about the play from a friend (aka: The Jerk who broke my heart a couple years ago. Yes, I suppose we’re still friends…if you can call it that.). I told him I would come and being a woman true to my word, I decided to reserve seats (which some people stole. Stupid seat stealer's and a dash of excellent alliteration! A dash? Oh brother!). I have to share something of my character that I’m sure I’ve disclosed before. When I like a guy, I really like him and I have a difficult time getting over him. It was nigh unto impossible to extinguish my feelings for this particular male. I did, however, accomplish that task as I mentioned in previous blogs. But knowing that I would be seeing him again, I was worried that those feelings would come rushing back as they tend to do in true Annie fashion. I decided to dress attractively. You know how it goes. “Look what you could have had, loser! You missed out on ME!”

When I saw him onstage…boy, he’s changed. I didn’t find him attractive at all. No, the transform wasn’t due to play attire, though the long (fake) ponytail was unappealing. Why do some guys think long hair is attractive? It’s not…to me, anyway. Give me a guy with a short haircut, or give me death! Okay maybe not death, but give me some scissors and I’ll make his hair short. Mwah ha ha! Sorry, I deviated again, back to the story. I couldn’t put my finger on why he appeared so altered but as I looked at him, I thought, ‘I found him attractive?’ After the play ended, we felt obligated to say hello to those involved. We congratulated him on his performance and had some awkward chit chat. It was weird because I didn’t want to see him. I wanted to leave and never have contact with him again. I finally realized that he’s not worth my time. I turned to my friend and said, “I’m ready to go when you are.” She said, “I was waiting for you.” And so we left, both commenting on how awkward it was and laughing that we were waiting for each other to extricate ourselves from an uncomfortable situation.

And this, my friends, is my personal triumph. I am completely, unequivocally over that guy. There was no attraction, no butterflies in his presence like in the past. I was correct in telling you in my blogs that I was over him. I have finally rid myself entirely of his irritating presence in my heart and mind. How sweet it is to be rid of him!

It's Already Been a Long Day

2008-07-03T09:15:00.000-07:00

This is going to be short, but I said I was going to participate in this blogathon and I am not a quitter! I'm at work waiting for the delivery guy to bring our order. He's been coming increasingly later over the past few weeks. It's quite annoying. I come early to put it away, and then he doesn't come until we open? Seriously inconvenient. Oh well. What're ya gonna do? I guess, not put the order away any time soon. Then my lovely coworkers like to come in late most of the time (except one other gal. She and I complain to each other regarding our flawless punctuality.). It then takes me twice as long to put the order away, due to the fact that I'm required to assist customers. What's that all about? Helping customers in a job that's primary function focuses on customer service? Silly. Anyway, I'll spend most of my morning grumbling to myself about my coworkers and their lack of alarm clock usage. They're doing better, I suppose. If 15 or 20 minutes is better than 45. Which it is. So...WAY TO GO! The delivery dude is here now. I'm off to conquer the order one customer at a time.

Blog Award

2008-07-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

I want to thank Tawni for giving me a blog award! She definitely deserves one, in my opinion! The winner of this award must follow a few rules:

Rules

#1 - You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award, whether for creativity, design, interesting material, and/or also contributes to the blogging community, no matter the language.

#2 - Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

#3 - Each winner has to show the award and put the name and link of the blogger who has given him or her the award.

#4 - The winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of Arte y pico blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.

#5 - The winner must show these rules. So the following 5 are the winners I have chosen, in no particular order:

Yellow Lives

What can I say? He was one of the individuals that inspired me to start a blog. I enjoy his descriptive writing. He's an eloquent writer and very funny! It's fun reading his philisophical thoughts on relationships and life in general.

Confuzzled

I consider her a kindred spirit. I love her sarcastic wit. She is very intelligent and it shows in her writing (as does the fact that she's an English major). She loves literature and has inspired me to read more and challenge myself intellectually.

Janint

I am so impressed with her blog. She writes in spanish and english. This allows all of the family to stay informed (her family from Mexico and those of us in Utah). Her blog is private, so you have to be invited to view it. However, I definitely think she deserves an award.

Lisa

First of all, she's an amazing photographer. I love the pictures she puts on her blog. I like her writing because I can completely relate. She writes it how it is. Also, her layout makes me happy. It's beautiful...just like her! Aw, shucks!

My Mom

I really enjoy her blog. She always says that she's not eloquent, but I think she does a wonderful job! She is so proud of her family and it's evident in her writing. I love the memories she shares, especially when we've experienced them together!

Now it's your turn! Make someone's day (specifically five other people) and give them this award. I suppose this is like one of those chain letters. But I can't promise that you'll find your true love in 5 days or that you'll receive a life changing phone call in 10. I can promise that it makes the recipient feel special...so, why not? Spread the love, people! And thank you for the enjoyment you've brought to myself and others!

“Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?”

2008-07-01T19:25:00.000-07:00

“What…is your name?” “Annie.” “What…is your quest?” “To join Janel in her blogathon.” “What…is your favorite color?” “Green. No, blue. AAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!”

Monty Python…classic (with a slight twist, of course.)! My friend Janel decided to start another two week blogathon. I have mixed emotions, especially since I’ve had writers block the past two months. Hopefully, this will help my creative juices start flowing once again. So Janel, I will unite with you in your quest.

“Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.” “Be quiet!” “You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you.” “Shut UP!” “I mean, if I went 'round sayin' I was Emperor, just because some moistened bint lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away.”

Just for the record, I have no clue what brought on the Monty Python quotes. However, I am going to post more...just because I can. Besides, they make me laugh.

“On second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place.”

FYI: I just received some very exciting news. Three of my friends and I were approved to rent a house. I’M MOVING OUT!! Needless to say, I’m pretty excited. This has been a difficult process…and it’s finally OVER! Oh yeah! I’ll write more about it later. In fact, that’s a good topic for another blog. The ideas are beginning to flow.

“Run away!"

Soul-Sucker

2008-06-19T23:37:00.000-07:00

Warning: Readers may not enjoy the contents of this blog. I’m sorry if you are offended, but this is my blog, not yours.

I have learned that when writing doesn’t flow, it must be stopped. Lately, the stream has been dammed and I’ve been at an impasse. A friend once wrote that if writing isn’t fun, then it shouldn’t be done. Truly, I have seen no pleasure in writing. I have been uncharacteristically down hearted; separating myself from friends and family to some extent. I haven’t withdrawn completely (though I’ve been thinking about it). I’m kidding. I won’t allow myself to be a complete recluse. Sadly, the internet is my main form of communication with friends and yet lately I’ve found it increasingly irritating. It literally feels as if it is sucking my soul away. For that reason I’ve stayed off; abandoned my friends, if you will. I have been working on alternate projects at work. They have allowed me to not only separate myself from the soul-sucker, but give my nerves a break from the endless torrent of irritating customers. What is wrong with me? This isn’t normal behavior. I enjoy being happy, not tetchy. Last night, I realized that part of the problem is fickle friends.

I am the first to admit that I have a wonderful group of friends. They are loving, compassionate people who don’t judge me in times such as these (as far as I know). I am so grateful for them and how they are always ready and willing to listen to me rant. Well, now I’m going to rant. I mean, really rant. I repeat my question and follow with an explanation for you and hopefully myself. What is wrong with me? I am thoroughly baffled at the inconsistency of other “friends”. I just don’t understand people who say one thing and act totally different. I can’t figure out how people can treat someone different because they’ve changed or are in a more authoritative position. I’ve been trying to grasp how people can act like your friend in one setting and not know you’re alive in another. Exasperating!

I am so tired of those people who are friends with you because you are in a leadership position. How are you supposed to know if they are friends with you because you are you, or because of your status? It’s almost impossible to figure out until you are no longer in that role. For example, I was President of the show choir my senior year in high school. I learned through bitter experiences who my real friends were; those who stuck up for me when others gossiped behind my back. My vice presidents were (I thought) good friends of mine. I was walking to choir one day when I happened to overhear their gossip session: starring me. It is tough knowing people are trash talking you behind your back, but believe me, it’s ten times more difficult to actually listen to the slander. I don’t know if I should count myself fortunate or ill-fated to have learned their loyalty so quickly.

Over the past year, I have lost a lot of weight. It has been a goal of mine for some time and I admit, I’m very proud of myself. With this change has come an alteration in how some people treat me. There was one girl (that I looked up to and considered a friend) who wouldn’t talk to me for about three years. I’ve never known why, but she was extremely pretentious. I have met some insincere people in my time, but during those few years she ranked in the top ten. In April, we had a dress rehearsal for our spring show. This previously pompous individual came up and threw her arms around me and proceeded to comment on how good I looked. She’s not the only person I’ve had do this. A surprising amount of people in my ward have done the same thing. Okay, so you couldn’t say two words to me when I was fat. Now, we’re best friends? Um…I don’t think so. I don’t need friends like that. I am grateful for those who’ve been consistent in the way they’ve treated me. Short, fat, thin, tall, what does it matter? It’s what’s on the inside that counts; the gooey conglomeration of innards. Speaking of which, my doctor once told me I had a beautiful gall bladder. I’ve decided that if guys could see my silvery-blue organ, they’d be all over me. I do believe that’s why I haven’t pulled it out at parties. There’s only so much of me to go around.

Back to the tirade. There are also those people (which seems to happen more often than not) that only have one form of contact with you. They only stay in touch with you through texting, email, IM, or send messages via popular websites. The internet is truly a wonderful way to stay connected. The issue I have is when you see them in person and nothing happens. Absolutely nothing! They don’t act like you’re there. They don’t make an effort to acknowledge your existence. What the freak is that all about? Am I only good enough to talk to you where others can’t see? Am I that scary in person? I admit, I could bite a person’s leg off, but that’s reserved for special cases. It hurts me to feel like I’m only good enough to talk to via the internet. I think friendship should be more than that. The sad thing is that most of these friends probably don't realize that they are doing this.

Again, I apologize if you are offended by this blog. I am merely frustrated. If indeed you are offended, maybe you should make some changes or talk to me and I'll help you amend those blunders which are most likely unintentional. Usually when I’m insulted by something, it’s because it holds some truth and I recognize things that I need to work on (though I usually hate to admit it.). If you have found humor in this rant, then I am happy to oblige. Now I must get off this soul-sucker before I have nothing left.

Happy Father's Day

2008-06-15T12:29:00.000-07:00

I have had no desire to blog as of late. There is an abundant supply of things to write about, but I have unfortunately not been in the “blogging” frame of mind. However, like my friend Confuzzled, I believe in equality. In fact, my parents have consistently exemplified the importance of equality since I can remember. I wrote a blog in honor of my mom on Mother’s Day; hence, I will do the same for my dad.

My dad is an engineer. It is apparent in every way. From his “I Geek Therefore I Am” shirt to his dry (and hilarious) sense of humor, his mannerisms reveal his career choice impeccably. He has always supported me in my extracurricular activities by attending plays and concerts. One of the many things I love about him is that he can make anything. It may take him a while, but he has a stubborn streak that…reminds me of myself. He will work around the clock until he gets it right. For example, when I was little we had a kitten. She lived in the garage. The winter months soon came upon us. It was bitter cold and we were worried about our little feline. So my dad took a Saturday and created a Kitty-Condo. It was a box with blankets and such. Now, you’re probably saying, “Gee, that’s swell. That’s what everyone has.” No, this wasn’t just any box with blankets; it was heated. He had created an electric panel that sat under the insulated box. It wasn’t hot enough to cause a fire, but it did create a safe haven for our furry family member. The only problem, it was the envy of the neighborhood cats. We shooed more cats out of our garage that year than I can remember. He is also one of the most intelligent men I know. Any question I have, he has an answer or knows where to find one. Most of the time, he knows the answer. I am personally grateful for the priesthood that he worthily holds. It is so wonderful to have close access to someone that can give blessings. I have used it many times and he’s there when I really need him. He has a strong testimony of the Savior. He is so knowledgeable about the gospel that it astounds me. I am so grateful for his example and for the love that he’s shown me.

Thank you for everything, Dad. I, also, love you more than life itself!

Happy Birthday to Me...Again

2008-05-24T19:40:00.000-07:00

This is an unexpected addition to the previous blog entry. Earlier this week my friends, Jewelsp and Janel, invited me to a movie night. The three of us were going to watch a Jane Austen flick or something equally acceptable for a “girl’s night”. Janel revealed that they had a birthday gift for me but both wanted to be present when I opened it. So I planned on a quiet evening with my gal pals. I even debated on whether to change into pajamas. How fortuitous that I chose not to change.

I am habitually on time or early to everything. I’m usually the first to parties much to my chagrin. Even when I'm intentionally late, I am the perpetual first guest. Determined to arrive at Jewelsp's house after Janel, I distracted myself. I played the piano and succeeded in detaining myself a whopping ten minutes. I pulled up at the house and Janel’s car was already there. I had achieved my goal. Jewelsp’s parents were outside doing yard work and invited me to join. I laughed and respectfully declined, offering my services for a later date. Her mom wanted to see the Jane Austen movies I had brought with me (The new Masterpiece Theater versions that came out a couple months ago. Thanks Mom!). I showed her and their daughter and then asked if I could walk in the house, seeing as they weren’t inside to answer the door. Upon entry, Jewelsp and Janel were sitting on the couch and jumped up to greet me. Her mom and sister followed me inside (I should have suspected something at this point.). I showed them my birthday present and her mom said that she might come watch the movie with us later. Jewelsp exclaimed, “But first you have to see our basement. It’s finished! We have carpet and everything.” This veritably spewed forth at a rapid pace…another clue. I thought nothing of it seeing how she’d been anxious for this basement reconstruction to be finished. I followed her downstairs and said, “New carpet! I love it. It looks…” “SURPRIIIIIIIISE!!”

I’m not sure exactly what happened but my friends were nice enough to reenact it for me later. I jumped back (I don’t think I did the “shaky thing” as my family refers.). Jewelsp’s other sister told me that I said, “Holy Freakin’ Heck!” though I don’t remember. My brain was trying to process what was going on as I took in the faces of some of my closest friends holding posters. I was blinded by flashes which added to my brain lapse. I tried to smile, though in the pictures it looks more like a grimace. Then I walked away. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, you see, I’ve never had a surprise party before. This was new territory or should I say “terror”-tory. I was terrified. I couldn’t stop shaking as they can all attest. Thankfully I didn’t cry, I composed myself and hugged all of my wonderful friends and thought how grateful I was that I hadn’t change into pajamas. I also had placed little care in my appearance since it was just “the girls”, so I was also reprimanding myself as I saw that there were guys. Not that I was supposed to know that.

I was thoroughly flattered and embarrassed having so much attention showered upon me. I wanted to climb into the pantry while they sang happy birthday. I don’t really know why. I guess I’m just not used to that much attention (I’m used to hiding behind a piano.). The cake was practically my size and there was a variety of enticing food. We spent the night talking and playing video games. It was a blast! Apparently the party had been in the works for a month. My family was in on it and had planned to come, but couldn’t at the last minute. I was astonished that all involved were able to keep it a secret (even my three year old nephew.). I am a hard person to hide things from. I have excellent deductive reasoning skills and am very intuitive when people are concealing things from me. As I look back, there were clues all over the place, but I didn’t pay attention and therefore had no idea this was taking place. They did an incredible job. In all honesty, I had daydreams of something like this happening, but thought those dreams would never come to fruition. I’ve always wanted a surprise party and those closest to me made a wish come true!

Thank you!!! As I said in the previous blog, I love you guys! You are some of the greatest people I’ve ever known and I hope we remain friends for years to come! Don’t worry, when those years come, I’m sure we’ll still have some of that cake.

Happy Birthday to Me

2008-05-22T22:28:00.000-07:00

Today, I was overwhelmed. I have never had so many people wish me happy birthday. I am so lucky to be blessed with such wonderful friends and a loving family. Even though this is an extremely short blog, I just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart! Personally, I’m thankful I was born. But I’m more grateful for you, my friends! You have lifted my life more than you’ll ever know and hopefully somehow I can do the same for you! I love you guys! This truly was a wonderful birthday!

Backward Glances

2008-05-18T17:38:00.000-07:00

I sit in my room surrounded by darkness. My laptop is the only source of light. Okay, that’s a lie. There’s a sliver of sunshine from my window and my alarm clock is emitting a red glow. It’s making typing increasingly difficult. “Well, why don’t you turn on a light,” you may ask. I don’t want to turn on a light. That would be too easy. I’m determined to make my life as miserable as possible at this particular moment. No, I will not make typing easier by turning on my bedroom light. I will stumble with the keys, typing whatever my fingers just happen to press. Obviously, I’m familiar with the backspace button, seeing as my mistakes aren’t visible (I used said button approximately 29 times in the course of writing that sentence.). And how, pray tell, are you supposed to find the home row keys in the dark? Oh wait; there are little bumpy things where your finders go. Success!!

I write “success” for more than one reason. Reason number one: I found the home row keys. Reason number two: I discovered the cure for hiccups and am telling no one. Reason number three (and the most important to me at the moment): I made myself laugh. I came into my room extremely irritated. I was ready to dump my problems into cyber space. But laughter has a funny way of turning my views around. After I laugh, things that seem daunting become a little more approachable. Problems that I am facing tend to minimize ever so slightly. They are still there and will be until…they leave, but they seem to not have the same effect on me when I put things into perspective. Laughter is one way that has always assisted me in dealing with issues brought on by life, boys, school, boys, work, boys, friends, and most recently, men. That’s a relief; they finally went from boys to men (I think I hear a song coming on, I swear!). I’m very grateful for the ability I have to make myself laugh. I’m even more grateful when others make me laugh. My friends and I have some wonderful inside jokes that usually bring a snort or two. I’m not sure what got me on the topic of laughter. Those that know me know that laughter is a big part of who I am and it is the only thing getting me through a trying time of life. Now I shall continue on to the topic originally intended.

As I stated earlier, I entered my room in a state of irritation. The last little while, I have enjoyed being genuinely happy. But this past week, I have been feeling conflicting emotions. This Thursday I will turn 24. Yep, I’m almost a quarter of a century in age. Not quite, but I’m not getting any younger. There are few people in the world who at the age of 24 can say that they have never had a serious relationship and have never kissed anyone. To be perfectly honest, I’m proud of myself. I have saved a precious part of myself for some lucky man. I’ve heard some of my friends say how they regret kissing some of the guys they dated. I don’t have that problem. I know that when I DO get my first kiss (whether it be awkward or sweet), I will not regret waiting. Sometimes, however, I feel that I’ve wasted my time. I allowed myself to fall for a young man that I mentioned in a previous blog. He left a large hole in my heart that I was determined to hide. During the next couple years (this is what I consider wasted), I was surrounded by armed guards. No, not literally. I had a wall 20 feet high and 10 feet wide around me. That’s a BIG wall. I rarely hugged people. I wouldn’t let people (guys especially) touch me. Only close friends would receive a slight squeeze. I have since taken chunks from that wall and thrown them in the moat (I also dug a moat around myself. You see, I’m like a castle.). The wall is still there, but I have broken most of it down. I’ve even put my bridge across the moat and welcomed others into my carefully constructed sanctuary. I have shared much of myself (allowed others to see the scar left by the previously mentioned jerk and various other things) and have been received with open arms. What more could I ask for?

I have been in denial mode for a while now. I have made some wonderful friends who have lifted me in times of trial. But now, the year has ended and we are all going our separate ways. We’re not necessarily moving apart, but change is inevitable. I find it funny when (at the end of the school year, or what not.) friends say, “Let’s do stuff. We need to hang out.” Nine out of ten times it never happens. Actually, it happens for the first couple weeks and then…nothing. Sometimes the summer is actually filled with friends and fun, but once the school year starts again, old friends are forgotten. I have entered the ranks of an “old friend”. I never dreamed it would bother me. I am one of those people that moves on and never looks back. But I’m sitting backwards in my seat right now, staring at what was and wondering what my future will bring.

I like to have my life mapped out. I prefer to know where I’m going, when I’m arriving, and who will be involved in my excursion. This time of life has left a void. I don’t know where I’m going, when I’ll arrive, or who will be involved. My map has been ripped off the wall and left a hole where the nail used to be. I guess I could get some spackle and fill in the void. In fact, maybe I’ll create a mural to fill the space. Maybe instead of looking at this as an uncertainty, I could look at this as a time to get reacquainted with myself. I can turn my life any direction I wish to go. Having the map torn from me isn’t necessarily a hindrance, but rather a way to point me in a new direction to meet new people and ultimately become a better me.

Wow, laughter does help me change my outlook, even in the dark. Speaking of which, I’m turning on a light.

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-11T22:40:00.001-07:00

What do you write about someone who has touched your life so deeply? I can’t begin to say how grateful I am for my mom. She has always been there for me in every aspect of my life. She attended every one of my performances, except when she was too sick to get out of bed. I have had several instances where I forgot important things for school or work and she dropped everything to bring me what I needed. She is the best listener and her advice (whether I like it or not) is usually right on the money. She is one of the most loving, caring people I’ve ever met. She has such a sensitive soul and it is seen by the way she treats others. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and yet she swears that when she dies, she’ll end up on an asteroid. If she ends up on an asteroid, I’m going to be burning in the depths of…well, you know. Always ready with a smile and a hug, she comforts anyone in need. She sacrifices so much of herself that I’m surprised she has anything left to give, and yet she keeps on giving. She is beautiful inside and out. I am so grateful that the Lord blessed me with the best mom in the world. He knew that I would need someone special to guide me through this life, so he gave me one of the best. I am so lucky to have her.

Thank you for everything, Mom. I love you more than life itself!

Vitamin D

2008-05-02T13:39:00.000-07:00

The past week and a half, I’ve been thinking of blog topics. There are many subjects I would love to write about, but not things I wish to share with everyone. Sometimes an idea strikes me and writing comes smoothly. This hasn’t been the case as of late. I just haven’t felt like writing. That isn’t normal for me. So I decided to just write whatever pops into my mind and that could be very interesting considering I’m on medication for a sinus infection. I just got a phone call from my choir director who could tell right away that I’m battling sickness (Ok, I just had a vision of me sword fighting a horde of bacteria. And I was wearing a cape.). He instructed me to put my face in the sun; soak in some Vitamin D. So that, my friends, is what I’m doing. I started by just sticking my head out the door which promptly gave some unwelcome flies the opportunity to enter (Sorry Mom!). So I’ve opted to take my entire person outdoors.

I’m lying on a slope in our backyard typing away on my laptop (something I’ve wanted to do for a long time). The sun is shining and the breeze is rustling through long blades of grass. We should probably mow the lawn. The print of the blanket I’m on has miniature candy bars. It’s giving me serious chocolate cravings. I tried to eat the blanket once, but it just tasted like cotton. Have you ever tasted cotton? I’ve never tried to eat a cotton ball, but I bet if it was dipped in chocolate it wouldn’t be half bad. Seriously, I need to get a new blanket…and a new topic.

I love being outside. It’s so peaceful, even with the giant backhoe on the other side of my fence that just happens to be creating a mini earthquake. Pushing that aside, there is such beauty that we take for granted. A Monarch butterfly just landed on a dandelion two feet away from me. Its fragile orange and black wings are fluttering against the breeze as it rests on the bright yellow puff ball. A bee lands on a closer flower that’s not even a foot away. My heart flutters a little as I consider the fact that I’ve never been stung. Do I flee or do I watch it gather essential pollen? Do I bring attention to myself and cause it to signal for all its bee buddies thus triggering a preemptive strike? I am unarmed, therefore I will remain silent and still. A bright blue fly just landed on the grass next to me. It has big bug eyes (no pun intended.) and is quite enormous and slow. The blade of grass groaned from the weight of the blue, bug eyed wonder. No wait…that was me groaning. The neighbors’ cat just walked across my back. What am I some sort of human bridge? Now she’s trying to eat my tissue box. Finally she decided to lie on my back. I have officially become furniture. I guess that’s better than becoming the litter box.

And there you have it, the moral of this blog. Find beauty in everything around you. The world is full of small wonders and if we pay attention, we will see them. So I declare, get some Vitamin D and let small animals use you as furniture. But don’t become a litter box. That just stinks!

Blessings

2008-04-21T11:59:00.000-07:00

Have you ever experienced muscle fatigue? Maybe you exercised longer than intended and it left you feeling exhausted. Maybe you ran further than normal and your muscles protested. Maybe you sat in an awkward position and when you moved, the muscles felt sore and stiff. Have your muscles ever ached to the point that you couldn't move and that you could literally feel the lactic acid building up? If so, you'll be more apt to understand what I went through over the weekend.

I was able to be a part of a wonderful show put on by the Ogden LDS Institute. It was about our great country: The United States of America. I am the head accompanist for the audition choir and therefore am entrusted with most of the harder music. I am thrilled to be able to play pieces that challenge my skills and allow them to expand further. On the piano and off, Heavenly Father has blessed me more than I ever thought possible. I was thinking the other day (Hopefully this doesn't sound too weird.) that there are many people in the world who are arrogant. They excel in specific areas and they know it; which means they flaunt it. My thought was that I could easily become very conceited. But the fact is that I know who has given me those talents and who could simply take them away. I've been humbled many, MANY times. The only thing I have done is try to increase what I've been given (which is more than I can even begin to describe) through practice, dedication, hard work, frustration, blood, sweat, tears, you name it. How can I be arrogant when I can't take the credit? Heavenly Father deserves the credit for everything I have, everything that I am. This weekend, I was literally brought to my knees. It is a very personal experience, but I feel that I should share. Not the intimate details, mind you, but the building of my testimony of a loving Father in Heaven and a loving brother, Jesus Christ. Ultimately, I want to share how my faith has been tried and increased.

Those of you who know me will attest that I do things whole heartedly. So when I learn a piece of music for choir, I'm going to expect the best of myself and therefore work towards perfection (Not that it's ever reached. I make mistakes all over the place.). As I wrote earlier, I play most of the harder, or should I say more demanding, pieces of music. Those of you who play the piano may know this feeling; there are certain songs that require more than just your hands. They require your entire body which is the same as saying they are physically demanding to play. This show was full of those types of songs. Patriotic songs are triumphant and consequently require immense, loud chords; chords that assist the words in filling the very soul with patriotism. I have small hands (my widest span is an octave) and these chords necessitate that they constantly be spread as far as they are capable. If you've ever spread your fingers out as far as possible and stayed like that for an extended period of time, you'll know that your hand starts to ache and you begin to feel a burning in your forearm. Your fingers inevitably become stiff and refuse to bend. Then the wrists join in the rebellion.

Thursday night was our Dress Rehearsal. I went home exhausted and I awoke feeling that I hadn't slept. I don't enjoy waking up more tired than when I go to sleep. Sadness, frustration, anger and fear plagued me the entire day. I knew I needed help releasing those feelings, so I asked my brother if he would give me a priesthood blessing (I know some of my blog reading friends are not LDS, so let me explain what a priesthood blessing is. In my church, it is a blessing given by a Priesthood holder, by the laying on of hands and by inspiration, to one who is sick or otherwise in need of special counsel, comfort, or healing.). I experienced an immediate release and enjoyed a wonderful performance. Afterwards, I began developing the sore, stiffness that comes from playing the piano long and hard. I was a little worried about the next day (Since we had two performances instead of one) but I figured a good night's sleep would do the trick.

I awoke sore and still stiff. I put heat on my hands and arms and I even took some Ibuprofen to ease the muscle tension. The Saturday Matinee was difficult. My hands were not cooperating the way I expected and I was increasingly becoming more frustrated. At the end of the matinee, my arms began uncontrollably shaking. I blew it off thinking I just needed to eat lunch. After I ate, the shaking got worse. The muscles in my arms were so fatigued that they were experiencing involuntary spasms. I could feel each individual muscle in my arms. It sounds weird, but it felt like the muscle fibers were pulling apart. I no longer had any strength in my arms or hands. I panicked. How was I supposed to play for another show that required SO much of my physical strength when all of my strength was gone? I fled outside, found a patch of grass, fell to my knees, and yes…I sobbed. "Why is this happening? What should I do? What can I do? I feel so weak. I received a blessing and I can't even last 24 hours? Am I SO lacking in faith? I know that at this state I won't be able to play. How do I get through this? What am I supposed to do?" I finally stopped the tears and went back inside (still doubting and fearful). I don't like people to see me cry. It makes me appear weak and I hate showing others my weaknesses. Well, it was then that a bunch of my friends decided they wanted to talk to me (and my blotchy, tear stained face). Finally, I was rescued by several of my close friends. One of them wrapped me in a hug that opened the flood gates and I started sobbing…again.

We decided to head back and get ready when our director walked past. I specifically didn't want him to see me. He had mentioned a couple weeks earlier that he didn't want to wear me out and I told him not to lighten my load seeing as this is my last show with the Institute. Well, He saw me, stopped, and asked if I was okay. I couldn't lie to him. He's like a father to me. I waited for the "I knew it" speech and instead he said, "Let's fix that. Let's find a young man in a suit and give you a blessing." And so the seven of us went to his small, cramped office and I received another priesthood blessing. It was very sacred and personal (those parts I will not share), but also unlike any blessing I've ever heard. He hesitated slightly and then began to give specific instructions on what I was to do. "When you get there, go to the kitchen and get two towels. Soak them in cold water and wrap them around your arms for 5 to 10 minutes. This may sound strange and simple, but it will start to soothe your muscles. Then, during and before the show, find a place backstage and lie down. Allow yourself to breath. Relax and let the tension leave your body." It was so simple and also so specific. With the help of my four friends, I followed the instructions implicitly. I am truly blessed and grateful to have friends that will stick with me through bad and good times. They even missed a testimony meeting for me.

So what happened? I still felt weak and exhausted…until I started playing the first number. I felt my muscles fill with a strength that was not my own. The stiffness was loosed. I felt my mind become more focused. The interesting thing is that between numbers, the tension returned to a smaller degree and the muscle spasms returned. But the minute I started performing, they left and I was able to play without any problems. The second I released the final chord, all the aching returned and my hands quit working. I awoke the next day unable to move my arms. But Heavenly Father blessed me above and beyond what I expected. This experience taught me that faith truly is an action. I was given specific directions and I know that the outcome would have been completely different had I not followed the counsel I received. Because of my obedience and the faith of myself and others, I was given the greatest ending of my years as an accompanist. I had given everything I had and I didn't have enough and so a loving Father in Heaven gave me His strength when I had none. Isn't that the epitome of the atoning sacrifice of the Savior? We give all we can and then He does the rest.

Two Guys and a Girl

2008-04-12T00:44:00.000-07:00

You know the date is going awry when you’re wishing you were with someone else soon after you step into the car. Such was the case on my date tonight. But the beginning of this date isn’t where I should begin. This story started a month ago.

Last month I was stopped by a lady in my neighborhood. “I’m SO sorry. I feel horrible!” What was she talking about? I was asking myself the same question. I soon deduced from her ramblings that she had given my phone number to a friend of hers and this friend was going to give it to her grandson. She felt guilty because she hadn’t asked for my permission first. (Truly, this is one thing that bugs me. If you’re going to give out someone’s personal information…ASK THEM FIRST!) I told her it wasn’t a big deal because I was sure he wouldn’t actually call. Nine out of ten times they don’t in a situation like this. She started telling me what a wonderful young man he was (she’d never met him). His grandma had said that he just couldn’t seem to find anyone and well, everyone knows that Annie has issues in the dating department. Ok, she didn’t actually say that, but that’s how it felt. Then to top off an already uncomfortable situation, my neighbor and mom start joking about how this could be my destiny…HE could be my destiny. Oh, how I loathe that. It instantly fills my soul with quiet rebellion.

A month later (last Tuesday to be precise), he called me. We had a pleasant conversation where he asked me on a date for Friday night at seven. He then said he would call Thursday night and let me know what was going on. Thursday came and went. There was no phone call. So by Friday around 5:30 I’m thinking he’s a jerk. He called shortly after I’d expressed that thought audibly to my parents. Yes, I felt bad about my prejudgment. He had been busy and couldn’t call; a reasonable excuse. He said he’d call me later and get directions. 7:30 rolled around and (surprise, surprise) I did get that call. He showed up on my porch a minute later.

When I opened the door he gave me the weirdest look. That is a VERY comforting way to start a date. Believe me. (I rolled my eyes while writing that, by the way.) I found out later that his grandma told him I was 5' 10" tall. Those that know me know I’m indeed 5' 10"…minus 10 inches. Hence the weird look. Anyway, back to the date. He opened my door which is a major plus in my book (but didn’t do it again the rest of the evening, which turned the plus into a minus.). We got to his car and he said, “By the way, my friend is going to tag along with us.” What? Are you kidding me? His friend was indeed in the back seat. They said we were going to pick up another girl (phew, his friend was going to have a date. If not, that would be awkward.). Well, she wasn’t home and apparently hadn’t given an affirmation that she would go in the first place. So there we were; two guys and a girl. Every girls dream right? WRONG! They asked me a couple questions about myself and then started spouting inside jokes to each other. I’m all for inside jokes, but if your date doesn’t share those same jokes, you don’t use them. I’m telling you, it felt like THEY were on the date and I was the third wheel.

They told me the plan for the evening; we were going to attend a concert at the LDS Institute. We got there earlier than expected so we played foozball before the concert. My date and I were on one side, and the friend was on the other. We gave him a sore beating. He was complaining the whole time, so my date decided that they should play one-on-one. The friend beat my date and then turned and challenged me to a one-on-one game. He was being extremely obnoxious, so guess what I did…I kicked his trash, baby! Oh yeah! I know; guys don’t like it when you beat them at games and such, but he was driving me crazy with his whining, trash talk, and mostly the self aggrandizement. So I bruised his ego! Mwah ha ha!!!

We went up to get a seat for the concert and the friend left to find other people. Talking to my date was like pulling teeth (funny, since he wanted to be accepted into the pre-dental program). I asked questions and he’d give me short answers. We sat in silence for quite a while. Thankfully, some of his friends came up to talk to him and I had friends who offered a nice distraction as well. After they left, he asked me where the other guy had gone. I didn’t know (and frankly didn’t care). He said, “I’m going to go find him. I’ll be back.” Ten minutes later he returned. Yep, ten minutes. Fabulous date etiquette (as was talking and texting on their phones which they did frequently throughout the evening).

The concert was great. I thoroughly enjoyed the music, but I think the guys were disappointed that I was sitting between them. When it was over I thought we were going to leave. We were wandering around the institute, not helping clean up which also bugged me. The least we could do was help, but I was following Dumb and Dumber. What could I do? Ok, that was rude. They were nice guys and they seemed smart, but they kept quoting movies such as the one afore mentioned. Anyway, they walked AHEAD of me. Then my date would realize his error and slow down to walk with me (he was really tall and he walked really fast. I think I did a marathon trying to keep up.) I tried to stay by my date, as a good date should, and the friend kept walking between us. Then walking (jogging) started to feel like freeway driving. I’d slow down and walk behind the friend to the other side and merge next to my date. The friend would cross two lanes of traffic and end up on my other side or would cut me off entirely. He was driving (no pun intended) me crazy and my date seemed oblivious. I was praying for the night to come to a swift end, but they wanted to stand around and stare at band equipment.

They eventually came to the conclusion that it was time to leave (finally!). The entire ride home was filled with movie quotes and inside jokes followed by apologies for being so weird. Then, pulling into my driveway, the friend says, “Sorry you didn’t have any alone time. Just pretend I’m not here.” Um…that was awkward. I said it was nice meeting him and hopped out of the car. My date gave me a hug at the doorstep and thanked me for coming. I thanked him in return, went in the house and started laughing. I’ve had some interesting dates, but never one with a “tag-along”. I guess you could say I went on a date with two guys in one night, and was ignored for most of it. How sad! What guy in their right mind would let a great package like me go to waste? I guess I’ll add this to the experience cabinet (which is getting quite full) and let time do its magic. I’ve heard that women are like fine wine, better with age. I just hope this part of life gets better before I’m completely fermented.

Therapy Session

2008-04-09T23:35:00.000-07:00

Writing is very therapeutic. So I decided to use this blog as a personal remedial treatment. If you choose to attend my therapy session…read on. This has been a hard couple of weeks for me. I won’t go into details because, hey, it’s my life. I’m not going to bore you with the daunting details. Let’s just say that my family has been going through a crisis, I’m experiencing the beginning of many ends, my future is unknown to me (all aspects of it), and I feel like I have no control. I have experienced every emotion imaginable. In all honesty, I have felt guilty for these feelings. I am normally a very pleasant person. I enjoy bringing laughter and happiness to others. I have felt at fault because I feel that I have been stifling myself therefore creating an injustice to others. How can I bring pleasure to others when I am so depressed? Not that I always have to make others happy and most of them probably haven’t noticed my disheartened state (My mom always told me that I’m a good actress. I wear a good mask, I guess.). It just brings me joy to make others smile and I haven’t felt very joyful as of late.

I am a perfectionist by nature. I expect the best of myself. I realize that emotions are a part of life, but as I said, I’ve felt in the wrong or imperfect. There have been times I’ve blamed others for the way I feel. Mostly I’ve censured myself for everything. It’s been a heavy weight as some of my close friends can attest. Well, today I sat down and had a good cry. It was the catharsis I needed. I am an earthly being. We’re supposed to go through these times. I’m allowed to be sad, happy, angry, frustrated, giddy, etc. There is no one to blame for these sensations, not me or anyone else. I am allowed to feel what I feel. When I dwell on a cause, place culpability on innocent individuals (myself included), and beat myself or others up, I’m just slowing down my healing process. I need to start thinking differently; reprogram my brain. I need to accept these emotions and ultimately accept myself. I have an easier time accepting others and their faults than I do mine. But the simple fact is this: I’m not perfect. I’M NOT PERFECT!!! I have faults. They make me the person I am. And you know what...I like that person!

I told you it's therapeutic. I feel much better!

Of Cheesecake and Men

2008-04-05T23:27:00.000-07:00

When the men are away, the girls will go eat cheesecake…or try to at any rate. A group of girls (13 girls including myself) decided to indulge ourselves with a girl’s night out to the cheesecake factory in Salt Lake. We arrived and discovered that there was a four and a half hour wait to get in. Ridiculous! So we decided to send out scouting parties to discover which restaurant in the area could seat us in less than two hours. The winner: The Macaroni Grill with a wait of one and a half hours. So we killed time at a book store. Literally. Time died a horribly slow death…no pun intended.

Eventually we went back to “The Grill” (as I will henceforth refer to it) where we received shots of Butterfinger Ice creamy goodness. You may ask, “Was that the actual name of the appetizer?” No, indeed it was not. But the Butterfinger shots were handed out to those waiting patiently to be seated. During this wait, The Chef came out and gave two tables free dinner. We learned it is currently their 20th anniversary and they are giving away free dinners randomly throughout the evening. We amused ourselves by staring at those who were already eating and trying to make them uncomfortable. I tried to use my mind powers to eject a table full of people out the window, but it didn’t work. It was sad, really. Eventually, five of our comrades left and then there were eight. I know. My math skills are astounding. Anyway, we were eventually seated and began our daunting dinner decisions (astonishing alliteration). The man I referred to as “The Chef” (his name was Brandon) came by decked in his chef attire. We asked what his food choice would be, were he one of us. Asking our nutritional preferences, he then told us (almost word for word from the menu) what each dish included and how it was made. He made his recommendations on what “young girls” usually order. All of us giggled appreciatively at being referred to as young (even though we are in most respects.). He was very amicable. We thanked him for his help and said that we would be ok if he gave us all free dinners. He said he’d be pulling for us, but the drawing was totally by chance. Since he had been chatting with us, others would think it was rigged. Not only was he attractive, he was funny. Winning combo in my book! But there was one shiny round problem on his left hand. Yep, he was married. Nuts!

Throughout the dinner, some of the girls kept snapping pictures of their food, drinks, waiters, etc. Alright, maybe not the waiters, but I wouldn’t have been surprised. The food was extremely good, but we stuffed ourselves like Thanksgiving turkeys. Then it was time for The Chef to draw out two more “free dinner” tables. After the first table (#14 - BOO! We were #100), he turned in our direction and said, “I’m rooting for you ladies!” Well, he pulled out a number that wasn’t even close to 100. We were let down, but not long after he came back and said he was also disappointed. Then he said, “I can’t give you dinner, but how about I give you free desserts?” WOO HOO!!!! Four beautifully crafted plates of cheesecake (Yes, we got our cheesecake and ate it too!) and chocolate cake came, served by Chef Brandon himself. Double the pleasure!

But I think the most enjoyable part of the evening was the journey to the bathroom. There was music playing (of course) but there was also a tape playing on how to speak Italian. So we were able to learn some Italian in the bathroom. Also, we couldn’t figure out how to use the soap dispenser (a mystery quickly solved) and the paper towel dispenser was equally discouraging. Alas, there ended up being no paper towels, hence our problem. So I went to plan B…my pant leg. It works every time. Two of my other friends went to dry off their hands and had to resort to plan B as well…my pant leg. And so I became the “human paper towel” of The Grill. We were pretty hyper at this point (they probably put rum in the cake, or so we thought.), so we skipped across the busy street chattering about Chef Brandon and agreeing that he needed brothers (eight to be precise). We even started developing a musical, “8 brides for 8 Chefs.” But then it was decided (since one of our party is going to culinary school in the fall.) that one of the brothers would be an accountant.

The evening ended the way it started…in a car. Shocking, I know. But this time there was much more laughter and dancing. I love spending time with the girls. There are no worries. There is just a lot of laughter, food, and fun (that sounded like a Chuck E Cheese commercial). These nights allow me to let loose, be myself, and flirt without guilt. And believe me, there’s nothing better than learning Italian in the bathroom.

Unknown

2008-04-03T19:19:00.000-07:00

Unknown

A smile fastened firmly in place.
Life is flowing smoothly, like a dream;
Or so it seems to the untrained eye.
Those who know may see through.

Tears are frailty; Show no weakness.
Strength is what they want to see.
Appear confident and secure;
There is no cowering, no fragility.

A façade is worn in front of others.
Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine.
Sobbing deep inside, where no one perceives.
Is it possible to drown from veiled tears?

Underneath the meticulous mask,
Rapids rage; crashing against the core.
The heart beats against its bony cage,
Each pulse throbs against aching temples.

“Where is the pavilion that covereth Thy hiding place?
How long shall Thy hand be stayed?”
Knowing everything can be made right;
Wondering when prayers will be answered.

Stark emotions turn the body numb;
Or is it slipping into quiet resignation?
It mustn’t leave its prison inside.
No one is allowed to see the naked pain.

The smile wanes from silent reverie.
A passing friend serves as a reminder.
Popping back in place, it deceives again.
Practice makes perfect.

Eyes are a downfall; they reveal too much.
They are truly known as mirrors of the soul.
Close friends see immediately.
Comfort radiates from their gaze.

Worst of all is seeing immotile limitations;
Having no power over what cuts deepest;
No foresight into the future.
All control is surrendered to the unknown.

Thanks Major!

2008-04-02T16:50:00.000-07:00

I was pondering writing topics today and was stumped. I told my friend Major about this conflict and he said I could read his blog and add some phrases of my own. Here’s a link so you can read his blog too: Words. He eloquently states that words are “one of the most powerful forces that we experience in this world”. I would try to share the feelings words evoke in me, but I could not say it better than he did. So please, read his blog first and then read mine.

Did you read it yet? Good! Now you may continue.

I have always been addicted to the written word. I am always reading something in some form or another. I’ve read the back of my shampoo bottle more times than I can say. That may sound funny, but it’s the truth. Anyway, here are some other quotes for you to enjoy.

“Be yourself. Who else is better qualified?”

“Never frown because you never know who might be falling in love with your smile.”

“L.o.v.e. is such a BIG word for only four little letters.”

“Have you ever wondered which hurts the most: saying something and wishing you had not, or saying nothing, and wishing you had?”

“No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.”

“Pleasure comes from the outside, happiness from the inside.”

“Jesus paid a debt He did not owe, because we owed a debt we could not pay.”

“For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.”

‘What do you do when the only one that can make you stop crying, is the person who made you cry?’

“Bloom where you are planted.”

“If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow.”

“A man needs a good mirror to scrutinize his heart as well as his face.”

“Nothing moves faster than gossip.”

“Love is when someone takes your heart and shatters it, but you still love them with all the little pieces”

“The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.”

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

“Only the educated are free.”

“The most wasted day is that in which we have not laughed.”

“What we see depends mainly on what we look for.”

“Look inside yourself. You are more than what you have become.”

“Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.”

"Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others."

"Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul."

“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love; but then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer, to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love; to be happy then is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy; therefore to be unhappy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you're getting this down.”

"Blessed are they who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused."

“Don't take life too seriously. You'll never get out of it alive.”

"Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine."

"If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you."

“Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.”

“Gently massage into wet hair, lather, and rinse thoroughly. Repeat as desired.”

See, I told you I read shampoo bottles.

Lifelong Search

2008-03-27T21:21:00.000-07:00

I learn daily that I lack patience. Don’t get me wrong. I have a lot more than in my youth. But I have a LONG way to go. As I was driving home, I decided to write a poem about that specific virtue. It isn’t the best poem, but I had a lot of fun writing it.

Lifelong Search

Hands were wrung like napkins,
Feet paced across the floor;
Anxiously I’ve waited,
For the knock upon my door.

So I decided not to wait.
I would begin my journey,
Hoping it was not my fate
To end up on a gurney.

I checked for it by a tree.
I searched from limb to root.
It wasn’t there, I kicked the trunk
And hopped away on one foot.

Under a rock, behind a bush,
It hid from me too well.
A thorn pricked my finger hard.
I stifled back a yell.

The next obvious place to look
Would have to be the shed.
I bent to look by the mower
But instead I bonked my head.

With a hand glued to my temple,
A finger between my lips,
I hobbled, and thought, “Patience,
It’s one of my hardships.

In order to get patience
They say it must be tried.
But my patience failed the test.
I truly think it died.”

It is an oxymoron,
To wait impatiently,
For patience to come to the door,
Looking to set one free.

Through life’s little lessons
We learn what we need to know.
You may be learning patience
When you stub a toe.

Fashion Collision

2008-03-26T16:25:00.000-07:00

Fashion is a topic that has always bored me. I dress in what I find comfortable and modest. This usually doesn’t include the modern styles. Before the Easter holiday, my mom always buys me an Easter dress. So we went shopping last Friday. My good friends and family will already know that I abhor shopping, especially when clothes are involved. I find it exhausting and extremely frustrating. Friday was no exception. If you ask my mom, you’ll find out that I usually become very ornery, unless I can make it fun…somehow.

The first stop was disappointing. Every dress I tried on was made to flatter either a teenager or a rag doll. I looked like a decorative teapot. Ok, maybe it wasn’t that bad. There was one dress that made me look like a wicked witch and another that gave me the appearance of the farmer’s daughter. I wear simple clothing; so when a dress makes me look like ornamental china, I turn and high tail it out the door. And so I fled.

The next stop was to the Mall. Walking into one of the stores, I spotted a fetching pair of sandals. I thought, “Well, if I don’t find a dress, I can buy these shoes to bring me comfort.” Then I turned them over to see the price. Duh, Duh, DUH...90 DOLLARS!!! Who buys shoes for $90? My mouth literally hit the floor which caused much laughter from my mom. So we left to discover more jaw-dropping sights. When did the fashion designers decide to not only bring back the sixties, but the seventies and eighties as well? I’m here to testify that those fads went out of style FOR A REASON! Some of you may know the current styles I’m writing about, but for those that don’t, allow me to elaborate. Imagine that you’re at a three-way stop and there’s three vehicles coming from different directions. A 60’s Hippy-Mobile, a 70’s Chevrolet Monte Carlo, and an 80‘s Geo Metro are flying at full speed. Each ignores the stop sign and there is a three-way head-on collision. The wreckage is a semblance of current fashion. Here’s another way of looking at it (In case you can’t tell, this is how I made shopping bearable.). You give a child some Play Dough, pudding, and glitter. The child proceeds to smash them together creating a blob of nastiness. Some things do NOT go together. There was one shirt that felt like they’d pulled it out of the washer too soon. It looked like they’d crinkled it, let it dry with soap still crusted on, and then had a Baboon throw paint on it. I’m sorry, but if I wanted a shirt like that, I’d let my nephew wash my clothes.

The only difference between the clothes from yesteryear and the atrocities nowadays, is the length and modesty. The dresses have become increasingly shorter and the neck lines have lowered exponentially. I’m disgusted at how expensive they are considering the significant decrease in fabric. When my mom and I saw the price tags, we headed for the clearance rack. I got a good laugh there. I swear my Grandma wore shirts with the same designs. Who in their right mind would buy clothing fit for a scantily clad 80-year old (What a horrible mental picture. I’m really sorry!)? Seriously! Yuck! No wonder they were 70% off. Although that could have meant that the dresses had 70% of their fabric missing. Either way, it was not a pleasant experience.

Needless to say, I did not get an Easter dress this year. I’m not too disappointed though. I really don’t want to walk around looking like a teapot. And I won’t be caught dead looking like someone ate an entire bag of Skittles and threw up on me. Whoever brought back those styles should be shot…or forced to wear the monstrosity they created. That would be torture enough.

Clichés

2008-03-19T19:26:00.000-07:00

I’ve had an idea bouncing in my head for a while since I wrote the blog using song titles. I’ve noticed how frequently our society uses clichés. So, I thought it would be fun (for me at any rate) to try and write a blog using clichés, proverbs, expressions, stuff like that. My Grandma and Grandpa were known for their use of clichés, so this is in honor of them. My brother used to go every week to mow their lawn and he and our Grandpa would usually stay outside and talk for hours. I know they talked about anything and everything, but I’m just making up this conversation. Anyway, we’ll see how this goes.

“Hey Grandpa, I came to mow the lawn.” Ryan hollered. Grandpa entered the room, “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, I didn’t think you were coming until Saturday.” “Well, I have a date Saturday and I didn’t want to leave you hanging. Besides, you’ve always said that the early bird gets the worm, right?” “You have a date? You’re sure this isn’t some pipe dream?” “Grandpa, you know I date. Besides, asking this girl out was a piece of cake. I just went up to her and said ‘Who’s your Daddy?’” Grandpa shook his finger, “Now don’t give me that cock and bull story. If you did that, you would be looking down the barrel of a gun. Now spill the beans. What really happened?” Ryan laughed, “Alright, I was just pulling your leg. I was really nervous. I felt like a sitting duck.” “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.” “I know, so I took the plunge and asked her out. Luckily, she said yes. If not, I would have been down in the dumps.” Grandpa advised, “Just don’t put all your eggs in one basket and mind your p’s and q’s. I know from experience that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Ryan went quiet. He was pondering what Grandpa had just told him. Grandpa quipped, “Cat got your tongue, boy? Penny for your thoughts.” Ryan sighed, “I feel like my backs against the wall. I want to do something fun, but I want to make ends meet. You see, I’m saving for a rainy day. I saw a sweet Nissan 350Z that I want to buy. It’s extremely expensive and I don’t want to lose my saving at the drop of a hat. What if I go over the top and spend too much on this date? She a nice girl, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Grandpa snickered, “Dag Nabbit, pardon my french. You’re a chip off the old block. But you have to remember, there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. You have to take the bull by the horns and go the whole nine yards. Now that doesn’t mean that you have to break the bank. But if you play your cards right, you can have the best of both worlds. In a nutshell, you need to bring home the bacon and have a picnic.” Ryan rolled his eyes, “Grandpa, give me a break.” Grandpa goes on, “Now hear me out. Pull out all the stops and kill her with kindness. You hold all the cards. Just be you and she’ll be as pleased as punch.” Ryan heaved a sigh of relief, “Thanks Grandpa. I better get mowing before it starts raining cats and dogs.” “Well, son of a gun, the sky is looking angry. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’ll hold down the fort. I should come out and help. There’s no rest for the wicked.” So, Ryan and Grandpa went outside to work, and that’s the bottom line.

"Beware the Ides of March"

2008-03-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

For Spring Break, three of my friends and I went to Disneyland. It was a blast! The highlight of the entire trip was when we went to LA and saw the Broadway show “Wicked”. It was incredible! I can’t adequately describe how awe-inspiring it was. But instead of boring you with the details of my liberating vacation, I decided to share an interesting request I received. Upon my arrival home, I saw a letter lying on my area of the counter. It was from my good friend who is currently serving an LDS mission in Korea. He said (and I quote): “Do me a favor and write me a pretend ‘Dear John’ letter. Make it juicy. I need a good laugh!” I've never had anyone ask for this kind of letter before and obviously have never had the need to write one (my faithful readers will know that I've never had a boyfriend, therefore, no need for the “Adios” memo). So, this is what I wish to share with you, my feeble attempt at a juicy “Dear John” letter.

Dear John, March 15, 2008 (The Ides of March…ironic)

I don’t know how to tell you this, but our relationship is over. I have been fighting with myself because I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't want to send this letter, but deep down I knew that I couldn't let you find out by a different source. As you are preaching the Lord’s word, I have tried to follow His plan for us. However, my path crossed with someone else’s. Even though I have only known him for a short while, I know he is the one and that he feels the same. I've never felt so happy in my entire life, even when I was with you.

I met him in the same room I met you: The choir room. I was sitting at the piano when he entered through the south doors. The world stood still and the proverbial clouds parted. His eyes locked with mine and I knew that the same reverential feeling fell over him as well. It was love at first sight…literally. We didn't actually meet until Choralaire Sunday where he introduced himself and shook my hand. I didn't want him to let go, but he didn't want to be too forward since we had just met. He asked if he could call me and, of course, I agreed. The Lord was guiding our paths straight to each other. Even though we've only dated for a little more than two weeks, I know he’s the one. So, when he proposed 2 days ago, I knew it was right.
We are getting married the day you return from Korea. I hope you will be able to make the reception. I would really love to see you. Enough about me; be sure to keep up the good work. Let the Lord guide you to the people who need to hear the gospel. He is our light in the darkness and will not only guide you to investigators, but also the girl that is meant for you!

Hope to hear from you soon,

Edna Globberman

PS – We are registered at Target, Bed Bath and Beyond, and Home Depot. We also appreciate any monetary gifts. XOXOXO!

PSS – This was really fun to write! I should “Dear John” people more often!

Turning Point

2008-03-05T17:26:00.000-08:00

My Visiting Teachers came to my house today (they are ladies from my church who check on me monthly to see if I’m alive). What do you think they asked? “So, how is your love life? Are there any guys you’re interested in? Have you gone on any dates lately?” Oh boy, were they in for an earful. “Yes, I have gone on a couple dates lately and do you think they called me for a second? Nope. Not one of them. In fact, that ‘one’ guy I’m really interested in…well, I’ve hinted until my face has turned blue (well, it turned red, from embarrassment). Nothing. It’s like my flirting doesn’t make an impact. Or, what’s more likely is that he’s just not interested. Either that or he knows I like him and he’s just keeping me on the back burner. I’m getting frustrated, because I'm worth more than this. I like him a lot, but I’m tired of getting my hopes up and then having nothing happen…over and over again.” This led to a lengthy discussion on guys, girls, and relationships in general. They gave me some very good advice and I believe I will act on it.

I have been stifling myself. I don’t need to cause myself heartache over something that isn’t in my control. I can’t make someone like me, but I can stop the roller coaster of my emotions. This is a time of life that I can enjoy. Looking back over the years, I’ve been able to do some incredible things and go to some beautiful places. I did a Study Abroad program in France and during that month traveled to Germany, Italy, and Switzerland. I vacationed with a friend in Hawaii. I’ve been to various locations in the United States and Canada. I became a Pharmacy Tech and continue educating myself in that field and others. I love learning and with this love, I learned how to play the organ. I had a goal to be the “head” accompanist in choir. It took time and LOTS of hard work, but it happened. And I can continue doing fun, uplifting things. Life doesn’t have to stop when you enter “marital age”.

So, what can I (and girls like me) do? Well, I’ve decided I’m not going to wait around anymore. All it does is create confusion and distress in my life. I’m a woman; I don’t need either of those to make me more emotional. Also, three of my friends and I (who are each feeling guy anxiety in some form or another) are going to Disneyland next week. It’s going to be SO nice to get away. We can enjoy each other’s company and not worry about stupid dating games. Another thing, I’m going on a date with a guy from Salt Lake this Saturday and I’m excited! I’m keeping my options wide open! I’m not going to let any guy play games to the point that my emotions strangle me. I am in control over my life. I will not be a “back burner” girl. The world is my oyster. Now, where’s a fork?

(Un)Inadequacy

2008-03-03T22:01:00.000-08:00

I find it amazing at how prayers are answered. After writing such a downer of a blog, I wanted to give you, my blog-reading friends, an update. First of all, thank you to those who left such kind comments. How could I feel anything but grateful to have such wonderful friends and family? I will freely admit that I am very blessed! It’s because of these never-ending blessings that brought me to a realization today. This is what I want to share. You’ve heard my fears; now share with me my joy.

This morning I was reading in The Book of Mormon (Another testament of Jesus Christ). I was looking up verses that were about happiness. I found the following in Alma chapter 7 verses 23-24 (http://scriptures.lds.org/en/alma/7):
23 And now I would that ye should be humble, and be submissive and gentle; easy to be entreated; full of patience and long-suffering; being temperate in all things; being diligent in keeping the commandments of God at all times; asking for whatsoever things ye stand in need, both spiritual and temporal; always returning thanks unto God for whatsoever things ye do receive.
24 And see that ye have faith, hope, and charity, and then ye will always abound in good works.

And also, I read in Mosiah chapter 2, verse 41 (http://scriptures.lds.org/en/mosiah/2):
41 And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness.

I realized that this is the layout of what I need to be doing. I need to gain these qualities; some of them I have, others I lack (a big one being patience). And so, there are many things I can be working towards. As I thought of that, it felt like a daunting task. This is a hard time of life and I want to be as prepared as possible for the future. As I said in the last blog, I have constantly prayed for help and guidance for what I should be doing. Today, I received comfort and it was incredible. I was at a stoplight when I realized…I’m doing just fine. I’m going down the path that I need to be on. I am doing much better than I give myself credit and if I continue down the path I’m on, I will make it! I was filled with the sweetest happiness. I also realized that I am going to be able to handle whatever happens in the relationship department. I may not feel like I’m ready, but it will happen in the Lord’s time and He will prepare me. Even if the guy I like doesn’t return my affection, it’s okay, because someday…someone will. I LOVE this happy feeling and the best thing is that it isn’t there because of some outside event. It’s there because I have been given the confirmation that I am indeed doing what I should be doing at this point in my life. I have been given peace.

Inadequacy

2008-03-01T22:08:00.000-08:00

I am into details. I see little things, things that normal people might not notice. Well, I went to a wedding tonight. It was beautiful. The bride and groom were glowing. The colors were red, black, and white…very elegant. The decorations were impeccably placed. The cake was white and black, square and tiered across the table. Professional pictures were spread around the room. Quilts cascaded from various easels. The dessert was to die for (literally, I think I died). Everyone was beaming and sighing casting glances at his or her significant other. My friend caught the bouquet (I didn’t even try). I felt very small.

The past two days I have been plagued with feelings of inadequacy. Especially when it comes to relationships. Have you ever liked someone and yet felt that you just aren’t good enough? This has been my constant thought the past couple days. I mentioned in one of my earlier blogs that I like someone. This hasn’t changed; I am not a fickle person. However, I have been feeling that I just don’t measure up. As I watched the miracle of love recognized, I shrunk into myself. Lately, I have tried to push myself out of my comfort zone. But as I watched the joy around me, I felt myself step back into my proverbial cage. This is something every girl wants. Marriage. But, all of the sudden, I was scared. How could I ever be a good enough wife or mother? I have so many flaws. How could I lift someone else when I have a hard enough time dealing with my emotions?

Satan is doing everything in his power to drag me down. I felt that writing these feelings down might give me power over them. I have been so happy lately. But I feel as if he took a 2x4 and smacked me. He knows me so well and that terrifies me. He knows that my self worth is an area that can cause me to shrink. And so the attack comes. “Why would an incredible young man ever look twice at you? Why would you think that he would choose you over the other amazing young women? You are not worth the time or effort. Obviously, no one tries.”

That may sound incredibly harsh, but it’s what he’s been barraging me with. I’m trying to fight these feelings, but it’s hard when some of the comments hit so close to home. I know that I am a daughter of God. I keep trying to focus on the fact that no matter what, I am loved. I keep praying for patience, strength, guidance and the ability to overcome these feelings. I know that the Lord will not give us more than we can handle. I just have to keep faith that He will help me better myself. I can become the person I need to be. At least, I hope so!

Dreams

2008-02-27T22:42:00.000-08:00

Note: The following blog is not a real life situation. As much as I would like it to be, it is not based on a true story. This is merely a story, one that is similar to most single girls daydreams. I used song titles (highlighted) to create this “fairy tale” so enjoy what I did to waste the afternoon. I certainly had fun!

‘Once Upon a Time’ on a ‘Monday, Monday’, ‘Maria’ was sitting in class. She was thinking about ‘Johnny Angel’. They had dated ‘Time after Time’ but lately she felt ‘Confused’. He had been surrounded by ‘Seven Little Girls’ and didn’t seem to mind the attention. On their last date, he’d held her hand and said, ‘You are My Sunshine’. She wanted to continue down this new, exciting path, but she didn’t feel that he wanted things to go in the ‘Same Direction’. She thought, “It’s ‘Easier to Run’ and ‘Escape’ this confusion, but I need to ‘Face the Music’. It’s ‘Now or Never’.” So, she pulled Johnny aside after class and said, tears streaming down her face, “I am ‘Going Out of My Head’. ‘You’re Driving me Crazy’. You continually ‘Pass Me By’ in class. I feel ‘Faint’ and ‘Numb’. ‘If’ you would even look at me, you’d see that I live ‘In a Glass House’. My emotions are on my sleeves, because ‘I’ve Got a Crush on You’. ‘Someday’, I hope you’ll feel the same way. But ‘Till Then’ I want you to know ‘I will Wait for You’.” He quickly responded, “‘Hey Look, No Crying’. ‘Dry Your Eyes’, Maria. I have been as ‘Thick as a Brick’. You could call me the ‘21st Century Schizoid Man’. ‘If I Only Had a Brain’ I would be able to see your ‘Feelings’ through your ‘Blue Eyes’. But I think ‘You’d Be Surprised’. You’re ‘The Only One’ for me.” With a sigh of relief, Maria exclaimed, “Then ‘Make Me a Believer’. ‘Be Good Johnny’ and you should ‘Call Me’ sometime soon.”

That Friday, Johnny called her and asked, “‘Are you Lonesome Tonight?’ I think that we should do something fun. ‘Let’s Go Fly a kite’.” She laughed, “But ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’.” “Alright, then ‘Come Waltz with Me’. Or we could do the ‘Mambo Italiano’.” She agreed with haste. Later that night, while she was getting ready, she thought, “‘As Time Goes By’, I do believe that ‘Now is the Hour’. He should be here any minute. This will be ‘Some Enchanted Evening’.” The doorbell rang and she flew to answer the door. Johnny stood stunned, his mouth hanging slightly open, “Wow, You are ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’.” He took her hand and helped her into his ‘Little Red Corvette’.

As they arrived at the dance, they were shocked to hear one girl say, “No! ‘I Won’t Dance’. But I think ‘I Feel a Song Coming On’.” Maria whispered to Johnny, “Well, ‘Here’s to the Losers’. How about we ‘Run Away’ from them.” Laughing, he replied. “‘I get a Kick Out of You’.” They made their way to the dance floor and Johnny turned with a deep bow, “My lady, ‘May I Have this Dance’?” “Of course!” “I must warn you, however, ‘I like to Lead When I Dance’.” “That’s fine, ‘I Wouldn’t Have You Any Other Way’.” They began floating around the dance floor when a young man stopped them and said to Johnny, “‘So She Dances’?” Taken back, Johnny replied, “Yes, ‘My Lady Loves to Dance’.” The young man turned to Maria and said, “Would you like to leave this guy and come ‘Dance with Me’? You know, it ‘Takes Two to Tango’.” Johnny stepped in, “Hey, that’s ‘My Girl’! Go find someone else.” The young man skulked away. “Thanks Johnny. Why do guys do that? I hate feeling like ‘Another Piece of Meat’.” “Well, I’m not surprised. With ‘The Way You Look Tonight’, guys are bound to come check out ‘You and Your Beautiful Eyes’.” The night eventually came to a close and they announced ‘The Last Dance’. Johnny whispered, “Why don’t you ‘Put Your Head on my Shoulder’.” Maria willingly complied and they began to ‘Sway’. The song ended too quickly, but Maria was thrilled as they exited ‘Hand in Hand’.

As they got ‘Closer to Home’, Johnny suddenly exclaimed, “I have an idea. ‘Let’s Fall in Love’!” Maria’s eyes widened, “You need to ‘Be Careful, It’s My Heart’ you’re talking about. ‘Don’t Break My Heart’.” “Just ‘Think About It’.” Meanwhile, the neighbor was watching from the window. She turned to her husband and said, “Honey, they’re back and ‘It Looks Like Love’. I’d say ‘That’s Amore’, wouldn’t you?” He rolled his eyes, “Quit ‘Window Dreaming’ and ‘Let Them Talk’ in privacy.” Johnny and Maria walked to the porch and Johnny said, “Come here, you ‘Embraceable You’. I want to be ‘Closer to You’.” Maria giggled, “Ok, ‘Hold Me, Hug Me, Rock Me’ and ‘Never Let Go’.” He gave her ‘The Look’ and whispered, “‘Besame Mucho’.” Maria was stunned. She’d never been kissed before and she thought, “‘Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy!’” Instead of saying that, however, she replied, “‘Excuse Me’? I do believe that’s the ‘Man’s Job’. You need to make that move.” “Come on, Maria. ‘Let the Rest of the World Go By’ and ‘Let Me Kiss You’.” With a smile, she closed her eyes and leaned in. His face filled with fear as he quickly planted a kiss on her; only it missed her lips and hit her nose. Her eyes flew open as he said, embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I need to ‘Apologize’ because I don’t have a lot of ‘Experience’ in this area. Can I have ‘Just One More Chance’?” Maria grinned and winked, “Alright, ‘Try Again’ but don’t make ‘The Same Mistake’.” Laughter released the tension that they both were feeling. ‘The Second Time Around’, Maria felt like it was ‘Better Than a Dream’. Her pulse was racing and her heart cried ‘Ring-A Ding Ding’. Johnny pulled away and said, “Maria, ‘I Think I Love You’.” She melted and asked, “Do you mean that? Or are you just ‘Hooked on a Feeling’?” “What I feel will last…‘Only Forever’. But now, ‘I Really Must be Going’.” He touched her face and she sighed, “Johnny, ‘I Love the Way You Say Goodnight’.” “Then I’ll say it again, ‘Goodnight, My Love’.”

Maria was ‘Overjoyed’. She felt like she was ‘On the Top of the World’. In fact, she was either ‘Walking on Sunshine’ or she’d swigged a whole bottle of ‘Love Potion Number Nine’. She prayed that this relationship would last not ‘Just for Tonight’, but for ‘Forever and a Day’.

Ok ladies, you can take a ‘Breath’ now. And guys, you can stop laughing, but I understand because ‘I Love to Laugh’. I guess this is the kind of blog you get when I’m ‘Deep in a Dream’. But I choose to believe that ‘We’re Lovers of Loving Love’. Most people like a good ‘Love Story’! Granted, there are people who believe that ‘Love Stinks’. But there are people like me who constantly ‘Daydream’. We are those individuals who go ‘All Through the Night’ and ‘Dream the Dream’ that ‘Love is on the Way’. Truly, ‘This is My Life’ and the life of those ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ like me. But I say to you now, go ahead and indulge yourself in a ‘Fantastic Dream’. Let it carry your heart ‘Up, Up and Away’ so that you reach the ‘Rainbow Connection’. And so, ‘Goodnight, My Someone’ I will be ‘Dreaming of You’ tonight. Which reminds me, ‘I Had the Craziest Dream’…

Whiteout

2008-02-20T16:23:00.000-08:00

Today I realized that there are many modern day miracles. There’s duct tape, safety pins, band-aids, erasable pens, super glue, and the list goes on. The latter day wonder I’d like to focus on is whiteout. It’s incredible! You make a mistake and bippity-boppity-whiteout it’s fixed. What makes it even better is that there are many different kinds that will meet each individual need. Correction fluid (in the bottle), the pen, the tape (my favorite), labels, stamps, and even erasers are available. It’s a wonderful thing. It makes me think of a well-known joke and being a smart blonde, I’m allowed to say this. How can you tell that a blonde has been using the computer? There is whiteout on the monitor. Classic! That doesn’t work anyway. When you put whiteout on the screen and continue to type, the error keeps scrolling higher, more correction fluid is required, and the monitor then has a strip of white down the middle. Not that I know from experience or anything. Really, I’m not that dumb.

The only problem with whiteout is that it only works on paper (or various other office supplies). Sometimes I wish I could blot out things that happened in my life. Let me give you a couple of examples. There is this lady that comes into my work monthly. One of the first times I helped her, she yelled at me about something that wasn’t my fault. Being a sensitive soul, I fought back tears trying to remember that she was upset by the situation, not me. That was hard considering that she began calling me incompetent. I really don’t like it when my intelligence is belittled, so she automatically went on my bad list. I try not to be the one that helps her when she comes. About three weeks ago, I saw her walking in and I was the only one available to help her. I got her item off the shelf before she had made it to the front and she said nicely, “You know my name? Wow, that must mean I come in here too much.” “No, I just have a good memory…” of when you ripped me apart, you Old Bat. I know…that was a harsh thing to think. She was very nice to me when she got what she wanted. If I had met her at that moment, I might have liked her. I wish I could use whiteout to forget how rude she was. Maybe she was having a bad day or was frustrated, but all I can remember is being told I’m incompetent.

Another event that I would like to erase is the date I went on last Saturday. It was my first date with the guy. He told me (towards the end of the date) that he wants to get to know me better. Then proceeded to say that he’s looking for a serious, long-term relationship. He said some very sweet things about me, but when I said I wasn’t ready to promise anything, he retorted, “Are you not ready or are you scared?” Uh…both. I’m not ready to have this conversation on the first date and now I’m scared of you. I even told him I had never had anyone bring up a relationship conversation like that and I felt very awkward. He said, “You know, I can feel the awkwardness and I don’t mind.” I MINDED!! Oh, how I wish I had a giant wand with correction fluid. I would wipe that entire conversation away. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could go back in the past? I would go and put a flashing neon light on that page of my life that read, “Don’t go on a date with him. He’ll try to play ‘Celestial Pursuit’ with you, and he’ll use the commitment pattern.” (Shudder) Wrong in so many ways. I would like to erase that memory completely.

There are also mistakes that I’ve done. Things that I won’t write about, but that have affected me. Those are probably what have shaped me into the person I am today. If I look at the person I am now and the person I used to be, maybe I don’t want to wipe out those events. I would never have learned, never have grown. (Well, I haven’t grown physically. But you get what I mean.) Maybe time is the ultimate whiteout. If we allow time to work it’s magic, the wounds of the past will not be erased, but covered with a newer, fresher memory. “Isn’t it about…time?" (from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints). Now, if you will excuse me, I need to clean the white stuff off my monitor before my dad gets home.

Meat Market

2008-02-13T20:13:00.000-08:00

Have you ever wanted to write something but the words didn’t want to leave the cozy mush in your noggin? It feels as if someone kidnapped the words I long to use and is holding them ransom. Can you jump-start your brain? Does anyone have any jumper cables? It would have to be today, too. Wednesdays are ideal days to write my blog, because I only work until mid-morning. Therefore, I have the rest of the day to devote to other things. Of course, the cranial blockage would occur when I have enough time to waste in front of this humming box. (Sigh) But, I’ve said it before and I’ll surely say it again, “Such is life.”

Oh, wait! I just got an idea. I have discovered in life that there is no winning for losing. Those of you who have been faithful readers know how frustrating I find the dating world. How can you tell that someone is attracted to you? How do you let them know you’re attracted to them without throwing your heart on the floor and doing the Cha-cha on top? I have been watching others to see how they accomplish this feat and have been trying to weave the techniques into the loom that is my life. (Wow, I sure use a lot of metaphors) I noticed during the “people watching” that others were watching me.

While singing in my car two weeks ago, I glanced out the passenger window at the car next to mine. There were 4 young men ogling me. Yes, ogling. Normal girls would find this of the ultimate flattery. I find it entirely degrading. Sure, it’s nice to feel attractive. But when you have been metaphorically turned into grade-A meat, it makes you feel like you’re hanging on a rack in a freezer. What do they think I am, rump roast? Prime rib? Sirloin steak? Would I be considered rare or well done? Either way, I quickly looked away from the apes with their tongues hanging out. Gross! Over the course of the next couple weeks, I noticed not one or two but approximately ten cars with similar primates. Each checked me out as I did everything in my power not to pull a less than desirable face at them. Ignoring was my ultimate defense. These unwanted moments made me think, “Why don’t good guys notice me like that?” The fact that they are GOOD GUYS answers that question.

I’ve heard that men do not like to be referred to as “good guys”. With good girls (those girls like my friends and I), it is a sincere compliment that describes those men who live their religion, are trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, reverent, and praiseworthy. We are seeking after these men. I can’t say if good guys notice me (sometimes I wish I could), because “good guys” do not OGLE girls. They send an appreciative glance, a smile, or a compliment (these are a few of MY favorite things). My dad told me that the difference between meat-lovers and good guys is respect. Good guys respect women and therefore look at them different. Meat-lovers look at women with only lust. Just to clarify, meat-lovers can also be women. I feel bad for the poor men who are caught in their lecherous gaze because I understand the feeling. “Look! It’s meat. Grab the cheap barbecue sauce and we’ll devour her with our eyes.” Degrading. As soon as they pull out the Steak sauce, I feel like giving them a roundhouse kick in the face. I would much rather have the guy respect me and treat me thus than eyeball me with a bottle of Western Family BBQ sauce.

And so it is, I send out my appreciation to all of the good guys out there. You are who true good girls are looking for. Thank you for not gawking at us. Please feel free to smile, glance appreciatively, and by all means, compliment us as much as you want. We LOVE it!

Love Canteen

2008-02-10T18:50:00.000-08:00

Since Valentine's Day is just around the corner, I thought I'd lower my pride and write a topic on love (of sorts). I've never been particularly fond of “Single’s awareness day" and have always believed it was a holiday for the card companies...and candy. Since it is Major Bubble’s Anniversary, I decided to not bash the day but find some good in it. So Happy 6-month Anniversary Major…six months of what, I’m not sure! I’ll move on to my topic now.

Whenever I hear the word marriage, I stop listening. It’s a reflex that has been developing for several years. Today, I was caught off guard. While driving to my destination, I turned on the radio. They were in the middle of a story told by Glenn Rawson (he tells inspirational stories for several radio stations). He said the following, “I have heard it said that ‘men are from Mars and women are from Venus.’ Well, I don’t know about that. I think they both come from heaven, and I think that God makes them deliberately different so that the eternity they spend understanding each other and becoming one makes them one with God at the same time. Please don’t forget: Marriage is a man, a woman, and a God.” It was inspiring to me. Marriage is a beautiful thing. I believe that many people forget the third member in the marriage. If not, why would there be so many that fail?

Looking back at my Valentine’s Days past, I feel a little sheepish. I always held on to hope that some guy would come out of the woodwork and confess his undying love for me. What a hopeless romantic I am (and always will be)! I take that back…I’m a HOPEFUL romantic. No matter what I do, I always have a glimmer of it in the back of my heart. But I look at the past and see the disappointment that came yearly. I’ve never had that special someone to enjoy it with. Bitterness built up until Valentine’s became a superfluous holiday with strong commercial overtones (thanks Janel). I see now that I’ve been looking at it wrong. Even though I’m not dating anyone and this will indeed be another one of those lonely holidays, it doesn’t mean that I can’t show love in another way. There are family members and friends who I love dearly. Why can’t I show love to them, let them know how much I appreciate them? I admit, it would be much more enjoyable “with” someone. But…what are you going to do? Such is life.

Now, here are my feelings on the other aspect of Valentine’s. Why has it become commercial? I was at work the other day when I heard a radio ad. It said something like this: “Have you got something special for your loved one? Is your wife going to be mad that you didn’t get her that necklace she wanted? You don’t want to get in trouble for picking up flowers at the last minute. So, plan ahead and surprise your loved one by buying this.” I was disgusted. Do women really get angry with their husbands for not getting some expensive gift? I know, it happens all the time, but it’s horrible. What’s wrong with spending some time together, a hug, a kiss, a compliment, a phone call, a sincere note or e-mail? If I know the guy really cares for me, then it doesn’t matter about the rest of the stuff. I can go out and buy a necklace or a ring, but not a man who genuinely loves me (No, I’m not buying a mail-order groom. My sister already gave me a “grow-a-boyfriend” for my birthday). I wish people would be less ready to receive worldly items and more ready to give love. Isn’t that what this holiday is all about?

So go out and tell someone you love them. It doesn’t have to be romantic. Just give someone a hug and fill up his or her love canteen. Don’t be surprised if (on Valentine’s Day) I come up and give you a great big hug. If I don’t, you better give one to me!

Slacker

2008-02-09T15:16:00.000-08:00

I feel like the ultimate slacker today. I'm tired, angry, frustrated, and to top it off, I don't feel well. Therefore, I don't want to write today. But since I agreed to this blogathon, I'm going to post something. It just might not be what you want to read. I'm going to post a poem that I wrote in high school. At my Alma Mater, there is a statue of a knight by the front entrance. In my AP English class, we were assigned to write a poem describing what came to our minds when we looked at the heroic figure. Enjoy...or don't, I don't really care right now.

Knight Poem

A fragrance of Victory!
The sword, still hot from battle.
sears a brand upon his palm.
Sweat drips down a dirt-covered face.
His knees give away,
collapsing on the ground.
Not because of weakness,
because of strength!
A gaze landing at heavenly gates.
Humility fills his brow.
Silent words pierce the sky.
A thankful prayer.
Strong arms lift the sword in triumph.
A sacrifice for God and Country.
Just as a newborn lamb, he trembles,
but slowly manages to rise.
Panic strikes!
Heart beating like a drum,
He scans the still valley,
Fearing that this is only a dream.
Quick glances confirm the truth!
This victory was his!
A sigh escapes his hushed lips.
With a rush of energy, he leaps on his horse.
Gallantly, he rides away,leaving only memories behind!

Sticks

2008-02-08T16:18:00.000-08:00

I love Fridays. It is the one day of the week that I get to spend time with my niece and nephew. It’s incredible to feel the love of a young child. I love hearing, “AUNT ANNIE!” and then watching my nephew tear across the room to give me a bear hug. What a feeling! I watch these two adorable children and what thoughts sear into my mind? “The poor things are going to have to go through the pains of the world. The heartache of love. The insecurities that come from every day life. The lack of self worth. Finding their testimony in a world that’s fraught with opposition.” I wish I could shield them from the feelings I’ve inevitably felt. But how would they develop physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually without these trials of life. These emotions are anything but new to me. But hey, I’m a woman. When you look up the word emotional in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of a mob of women (throwing high heels). Today was no different.

Today I saw some unique flirting techniques that have taken place since I was in high school. There are people that are much more experienced in the art of flirting. But I experienced the other side today. As I stated in a previous blog, my flirt vessel is humor or other forms of verbal communication. The key word being verbal. During class today I saw the physical form everywhere I turned. There were those lovable eighteen/nineteen year olds that were jumping on everyone (girls and guys…mainly guys). There was the constant touching (i.e. a hand on the arm, shoulder patting, elbow squeezing, hugging, etc). There were (as I’ve also mentioned before) the stalkers who are always near their current interest. But the vessel of flirting that caused me to lack self-confidence was the following: guys carrying girls around. But not just any girls, the girls that are about as big as your pinkie. The beautiful, appealing girls that cause the rest of the females in the vicinity to cower with insecurity. This “carrying” has occurred since I was in high school and it has always bothered me.

Now I understand that guys are not going to go up to a “larger” girl and carry her (cradle style) someplace. I wouldn’t want to break my back and I expect they feel the same. But I have BEEN the “heavy” girl. It’s a difficult emotion to cover, especially when you’re trying on dresses for, let’s say choir. You’re feeling good about yourself, because for the first time in a LONG time, you fit in a size 10 (a size smaller than the average American woman). You get in line behind a Stick. The Dress Coordinator says to the paper-weight, “What size are you?” The Stick’s response, “This is a size two, but do you have a size zero anywhere?” Ouch. It makes you want to run back in the bathroom and throw up. I can guarantee that I will NEVER be a size 2. And frankly, I don’t know if I want to be. This is one of the reasons it’s hard to see the guys physically flirt with the Twigs in this way. Those of us who are not a size zero are never going to be flirted with in this way (not that I want some random guy coming and picking me up. That would be a tad on the weird side. But then I’ve never been the type of girl that guys flirt with physically. And with the counsel of the prophets, it’s something I’m proud to admit).

I want to make it clear that I love Sticks. Some of my good friends fit into this category. They are some of the friendliest people and can be exceptionally good looking. My heart aches for those of us who are not, nor will ever be, in this “weight class”. To look around (as this flirt technique is taking place) and see the faces of the other girls breaks my heart. Why do guys do this? To prove how masculine they are? They’re picking up a push broom for goodness sake, even I could do that! Or is it a way of showing the “girl-in-arms” that they’re interested? I guess only they know the answer to that question.

I want to specify the fact that I don’t look down on the people who do this. They are wonderful people that I admire. I wanted to write about this to clear my mind of frustration for those of us who will NEVER experience this type of flirting, who get down on ourselves for not being pencil-thin. “It doesn’t matter what size you are. What matters is what’s on the inside.” I hate hearing that. In dating, appearances DO matter. What we need to remember is that in 50 years, the Sticks will have Osteoporosis. So, if you ever need a GOOD hug, go for a “bigger” girl. That way, you can be sure you’ll get a good squeeze. And you’ll know we won’t break in half!

Homer the Great

2008-02-07T18:46:00.000-08:00

WARNING: If you are not a Simpsons fan, do NOT read this.

“Why can’t we watch The Simpsons, Dad?” “Because it’s a bad influence. The kids are very disrespectful.” “But we wouldn’t be. Can’t we watch it just this once?” “No, The Simpsons will not be watched in this house.”

Famous last words if I ever heard any. This is just a snippet of the conversations my brother and I had with our parents regarding that ever-controversial cartoon. We begged and pleaded to watch it just a couple times, but were repeatedly denied. So, we, being children not easily dissuaded, went to our neighbor’s house (my brothers good friend) and watched. I admit this with hesitancy seeing as we were being disobedient. We justified this by saying, “Dad said The Simpsons would never be watched in OUR house, not our neighbor’s.” It took several years before we were found out. My brother was in high school, I in Junior High. Rye was able to sweet-talk our parents into just sitting and watching one episode with us. If they didn’t like it, we would never watch it again. Needless to say, we are watching it to this day, laughing at the sarcasm and hilarious irony.

Understanding irony is definitely a key to appreciating The Simpsons. What good parent would say, “Well, kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is…never try.” A parent who taught their child to never try would be hogtied to a chair and have Parenting for Dummies thrown at their head. If any person is watching with the intent of seeing a normal family doing average things, they are choosing the wrong show. It is about a dysfunctional family and the way they screw up their own lives and everyone around them. Watching television can be very depressing, due to the immorality, language, broken families, etc. I admit The Simpsons does have a lot of these qualities that I don’t appreciate. There are in truth many episodes that I refuse to watch (I don’t watch much TV as it is). But I do admire the fact that the creators of The Simpsons have kept Homer and Marge together. Here is a couple that has more problems than most people and yet they choose to put forth the effort to make their marriage work. That’s almost unheard of nowadays on and off TV.

My brother will agree when I say that our favorite character is Homer. Dan Castellaneta (the voice of Homer) said it perfect. Homer is like "a dog trapped in a man's body. He's incredibly loyal – not entirely clean – but you gotta love him." At family functions, my brother and I quote lines from The Simpsons and other shows back and forth. It’s as if we have our own language. I’ve shared this language with my close friends who don’t judge me for having such ecclectic taste. If you are ever around my friends, my brother, and I you may hear a few select quotes. “Yar, I’m unattractive.” “You couldn't fool your own mother on the foolingest day of the year with an electrified fooling machine!” “That guy impressed me and I am not easily impressed. Wow. A blue car!” “With $10,000, we'd be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things like...love!” “Oh, so they have internet on computers now!” “What's a wedding? Webster's dictionary describes it as the act of removing weeds from one's garden.” “I want the answers now or eventually!” And there are many more where those came from. In fact, here are two more of my favorites…just for kicks. "What? Are you going to sick the dogs on me? Or the bees? Or the dogs with bees in their mouth, so when they bark they shoot bees at you?" “Oh doctor, I was in a magical land of fire and brimstone. And there were little men in red running around, sticking pitchforks in my butt!"

If you are entirely turned off by this blog…you shouldn’t have read it. As for my family and me, we have created cherished memories in the warm glowing warming glow of The Simpsons. Their stories make us feel a little more normal than we otherwise might. However, I still have one question I’d like to ask. “Donuts. Is there anything they can't do?”

Why Gnomes

2008-02-06T18:33:00.000-08:00

Let me introduce you to gnomes, or as I like to call them G.N.O.M.E.S. (Grouchy Nongregarious Old Misers of Elfish appearance and Size). Gnomes came from the icy lands of Scandinavia and then, about 1500 years ago, they migrated to the rest of Europe. They are actually known by several different names depending on where you go. In different areas of Germany, they are called Erdmanleins or Heinzemannchens (say those 10 times fast). In Iceland, they are called Foddenskkmaend. Switzerland and Luxembourg prefer Kleinmanneken. Nisse is their name in Denmark and Norway, or Nissen in Sweden. And the list goes on (did you want to know all that, Major Bubbles?). There are several varieties as well: garden, lawn, and forest to name a few. They are approximately 15 centimeters in height, have impeccable eyesight, and are very fast. They are exceedingly clever at hiding. In fact, if you have a garden gnome, keep an eye open or it may conceal itself in your shrubbery. They are the guardians of treasures and they try to stay far away from humans. Is this an entirely male species? No, there are, in fact, female gnomes. And did you know that these little people have an aversion to cats? Fascinating.

You may ask how I first encountered a lawn gnome. Well, here is the awe-inspiring story. I was visiting my friend (she lived up in the mountains) when we decided to play hide-n-seek outside. She was counting first and so I dashed up a path into the woods. Tiptoeing swiftly and stealthily, I felt a sharp pain shoot up my leg. Hopping on one foot, I noticed a shriveled, evil looking man made out of ceramic. Picking up the gnome, I cautiously inspected it closely. Then, realizing the game was still afoot (I had stubbed my toe. HA!) I hobbled away. I swear I heard faint laughter in the background…and it didn’t sound like my friend. Dun, Dun DUH!!!! After this odd introduction, I began noticing gnomes everywhere. They were in gardens, on lawns, in potted plants, and other various locations. It became intriguing to me, trying to find these ornery, bearded folk. They never seem to be in the same place twice and they’re always slightly obscured from view. Can they come to life? I guess we’ll never know.

I have to admit, I love the fact that gnomes are small…like me (that’s their most endearing feature)! They are much too grumpy in my opinion, but wouldn’t you be irritable if people kept knocking you over and disturbing your solitude? I also have an appreciation for their seclusion. As a human, I can’t live every moment in a hole, but I definitely put my emotions in one (most of the time). They don’t dress to impress as we do. We’re trying to meet people, not scare them off with old geezer apparel. They couldn’t care less. But it brings me a smile every time I see their baggy shirt and pants, the buckle around their middle (Over the shirt, big fashion no-no. I mean the 80’s are SO over). And I only know a few men who could pull off the beard/hat combo. What’s not to like about gnomes? So, I implore you, treat them with respect. Unless of course one trips you for no reason and laughs maniacally. Then I give you permission to knock him over and take his treasure.

The First Book of Annie

2008-02-05T20:06:00.000-08:00

I must thank the only person who left me a comment. Thank you Janel! Your request shall be fulfilled. As for the rest of you. You should be ashamed, keeping all of your ideas to yourselves. Unless, of course, you've just been too busy to assist me, then you are forgiven. (Also, thanks Rye, for the ideas I'm stealing from your Christmas letter. I dedicate this to you and Janel!) And so, The First Book of Annie begins.

1 And it came to pass that I, Annie, did write my epistle unto my blog readers, therefore I make a record of the proceedings of my day. Yea, I make a record in the language of my father, which consists of the learning of the Utahns and the language of the Engineers.
2 For it came to pass in the commencement of the eighth year of the reign of Bush, there came out a decree from the Internal Revenue Service that all the United States should be taxed. And when I did hear, I did quake and tremble exceedingly.
3 And behold, it was revealed unto me that I should not see death before I had paid taxes. And I wept.
4 And it came to pass that the primary election were taking place in the land. And I did vote early and did wear my sticker with much pride. And there were in the same state many who chose not to vote and we did boo them exceedingly.
5 And it came to pass that I, Annie, did arrive at work at an early hour. And I was exceedingly tired. And thus, I did murmur against my boss.
6 But behold, my boss did speak unto me saying, "Let this be a sign unto you, ye shall find the check wrapped in an envelope, lying in a drawer." And behold, I did remember my paycheck and did repent with exceeding haste. Thus I did stock the shelves and was grateful for the money which I did earn.
7 And it came to pass that I did hear from many customerites concerning their bills. And I did help them much with their problems. And their rejoicing could be heard throughout the land.
8 And I went forth, and when I came near to the house of religion I beheld that some students had fallen in the snow before me, for the sidewalk had not been shoveled. And I did feel much sorrow on their behalf. Thus I entered the house of religion and did play the piano with an exceedingly glad heart. And there was with me a multitude of heavenly voices singing praises unto the most high. And this caused much happiness throughout the room.
9 And there were young warriors who did flirt exceedingly much and did cause the hearts of the women to flutter. And there were young women in the same room who did leap upon the warriors and did stalk them even unto the doors and they were sore afraid. I did fear that they may be lead away by the foolish imaginations of their hearts for Valentines Day was near. Inasmuch as the flirting did continue, it did confound the wise and the learned for they were charmed by beauty. And I did roll my eyes exceedingly much.
10 Therefore, I did depart and went up unto my place of employment where there were many phone calls. And the customerites again began to murmur about their bills. And these phone calls did cause me much frustration. But behold, their anger did increase against me, insomuch that they did seek to take away my life. And the last sentence was false, for they were exceedingly agreeable. And they did listen as I explained the depths of what they owed.
11 However, there were many notes left for the other coworkerites, and they did not take heed. And my heart was stirred and I did confront them with mine anger. And the coworkerites did offer me chocolate to soften my heart. But I fled and did run swiftly up four flights of stairs. Now it came to pass that I returned and did enter a happy state. Behold, I did now accept their offering and did rejoice in it exceedingly.
12 And it came to pass that the snow did cause much confusion in the parking lot. And the customerites were exceedingly wroth for the snow plow had not left much room. And they did badger us with many questions which we could not answer.
13 And there came unto work a young trainee, whose stink surpasseth all that stinketh. And there was much rejoicing from the coworkerites for this was his final day of training. And he did depart. And behold, this I declare unto you with glad tidings of great joy.
14 And the time came that I could return to my home, in which thing I did rejoice. And I did have reason to rejoice for our system had crashed and we could not type the things which were needed. Behold, my beloved blog readers, I speak unto you these things that you may rejoice. For I did come home and write this blog with much laughter. And my foot did fall asleep during the writing of it.
15 And now, my friends, I desire that ye should smile, that this blog should cause you to laugh exceedingly; for, for this intent I have written this epistle. And now, I bid unto you all, farewell. I soon go to the kitchen to find sustenance. Blog readers, adieu.

Life’s Little Hugs

2008-02-04T19:13:00.000-08:00

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life gives you hugs, hug back. I had an event occur today that I would consider a "life hug". I was leaving work when I fell into step with an older gentleman. He glanced at me and I smiled as I normally would at a complete stranger. Sometimes, the unknown person will lift a corner of their mouth in return. This gentleman gave me a 1000-watt grin. So, I struck up a conversation that went as follows:
Annie: "Hello, how are you?"
Nice Old Gentleman: "I'm doing well, and how are you today?"
A: "I'm great!"
NOM: "That is so good to hear. It makes those of us that feel the same even happier."
A: "Thank you! That was sweet of you to say."
NOM: "My dear, you continue having a great day and be very careful."
A: "I will and you do the same."
A simple conversation, a day brightened, one of life's little hugs. Sadly, it's not a common occurrence.

People have become increasingly self-absorbed. I would say about 65% of the people that enter my place of employment don't say "Hi". They can't return a greeting that takes less than a second to say. How hard is it to return a little common courtesy? It's not hard at all! It is thrilling to see someone come in that is smiling. Someone that is kind to me. I LOVE helping them and am even more willing to go out of my way to assist them with what they need. That nice gentleman returned not only a bright smile, but also a few kind words. And that made all the difference! I hope when others think of me, they think of a kind young woman who is always ready and willing to give a smile and a hug and offer a listening ear. Not that I'm going to start giving hugs to my customers. I think I'd get fired.

Well, my friends, I wish to ask you a question. What would my wonderful readers like me to write about this final week of the blogathon? I'm up for anything! (Well, almost anything.) If you leave me some good ideas, I will do my best to write about each one. If you decide not to participate, you will be stuck with whatever leaps from my imagination. That could be quite scary. Can you live with that?

Walking Zombie

2008-02-03T11:45:00.000-08:00

There are several reasons why I am today, the walking dead. First: too many late nights. Second: an active mind that likes to play every scenario of earlier occurrences or ask questions about these events to torment me. Third: working late into the night stuffing bills into envelopes that will most likely be tossed into the trash. Fourth: shoveling the snow that continues to fall, even at this very moment. Fifth: the death of a beloved Prophet who had such an extraordinary impact on, not only myself, but also the world. I spoke about mourning the loss of a relationship in an earlier blog. Instead of my zombified state, I would like to focus on the memories that have flooded me since the dreaded announcement on Sunday.

Few of you know that President Hinckley reminded me of my own Grandpa. They both had a zest for life, a sense of humor that brought a smile to the saddest face. There was a strong resemblance in their features as well. As a child, I would ask my mom, "Why is Grandpa on TV?" "That's not Grandpa. That's Elder Gordon B. Hinckley." My favor was obtained. I was too young to grasp the depth of the words he spoke, but he spoke them as my Grandpa would. Granted, he spoke with much more eloquence than a farmer from Idaho, but in my mind they were "brothers". There was, regretfully, a drastic change in my Grandfather that occurred at the death of his wife.

My Grandma was one of my best friends. As active children, my siblings and I would constantly be doing things. Grandma (and Grandpa) came to each of these events: soccer games, plays, concerts, birthday parties, the list goes on. For those of you that know music, you may find this a shock. My mom taught me to sing harmony before I ever learned how to sing melody. As a first soprano...that's unheard of. She told me that her mom and dad did the same thing for her. My grandparents had been in a band (of sorts) in Idaho, my Grandma at the piano and my Grandpa on the saxophone. Later in life, they played for church dances together. As young children of 9, 7, and 3 (that's me), our Grandma would take us to sing at Nursing Homes, church meetings, and senior functions to keep those traditions alive. This developed an unbreakable bond (geasher, rye-guy...remember the rings?). My senior year, my sister was married. They, despite her frailty, played for the final time together. She would have been to my graduation ceremony, but we convinced her to stay home (she was 89 and the location was full of stairs). As a tribute to her, I must let you know that she was the ward organist for 70 years and she played for the congregation the week before she died. She passed away a month after my birthday, to the day.

It was heartbreaking. My friend wrote a blog once about loneliness and, I admit I've felt it many times during my life. But this was one of the hardest times I've ever had to face. I'm going to share with you a dear memory. We were at her house the week before she entered the hospital. She turned to me and said that she was afraid to die. I'll never know why she told me that, but I responded, "Don't worry, Grandma. I'll hold your hand." She went downhill very fast. It was torture watching her stats drop slowly. That week was, obviously, one I'll never forget. Even so, she kept her sense of humor to the end (either that or it was the morphine. Probably both.) My mom and sister had left the room and I was given a few blessed minutes with my closest friend. She was heavily sedated, but I knew it would be my last time alone with her. I said, "Grandma, I just want you to know that I love you so much." Her reply (I love this in more ways than one), "I love you too...two...shoe. I have TWO feet!" Morphine, you've got to love it!

After she was gone, my Grandpa went through a change, as did I. He became exceedingly grumpy and introverted. His "President Hinckley persona" was gone. He stopped enduring to the end and started waiting to die. It was harder watching him go through this alteration than losing my Grandma. She was in a better place. She was no longer in pain. He was experiencing the worst kind of loss, a wife of 64 years, his best friend. He entered a deep depression. I allowed the extreme loneliness to surround me. Have you ever had something happen in your life that pierced you deeply and no one was there for you? This was one of those times for me. Yes, my family was there for me, but each had someone to lean on. My mom had my dad, my sister had her husband, my brother had his girlfriend, and I had...no one (I had the Lord, but I wanted a physical person to share my grief). My Grandma was usually the one I leaned on and that wasn't a possibility anymore. My thinking, "My friends will comfort me. They know how hard this is and they will let me cry on their shoulders." Not one of my friends showed me any remorse. They acted as if nothing had happened. My pain was nothing to them. Therefore, I was nothing to them. All association was cut off. I climbed into myself, not unlike my Grandpa. Bitter is the word that is printed across this period of my life.

I have evolved in a way that I never thought possible. I've done an about face. I am grateful for the time of mourning, the time of loneliness. Looking back, I see how the Lord carried me through a dark time. It has taken me years to trust people (friends) again. Those who are closest to me should feel wonderful about themselves. I open up more with them than I ever thought I'd do again (and am continuing to open the cage I mentioned in a previous blog. It's a good feeling). I am so happy knowing that when I allow the Lord into my life, I'm never alone. My Grandma and Grandpa are together again, as are President and Sister Hinckley. The pain of watching each one exit this world is nothing compared to the joy of knowing they completed the ultimate mission. Life. I find it ironic that I referred to myself as the walking dead. I'm just plain tired. I am excited to continue with the life given me. Like those four amazing people, I will endure to the end! But if I start getting impatient, just give me a little morphine. That always does the trick.

A Night of Fun

2008-02-02T09:49:00.000-08:00

Is it wrong to write about the same topic as a friend? If it is so, I am writing illegally. My friend, Janel, wrote briefly about the topic of a Girls' Night out and I will attempt the same. Isn't it such a blessing to have friends with whom you can share thoughts? I almost feel bad, dumping my pain, anger, frustration, excitement, and confusion with these wonderful ladies. Yet, they accept me, even with my insecurities. And chocolate, oh the sweet kiss of a secret lover. My friend said that chocolate has all the qualities of a good boyfriend. However, I would NOT want to kiss chocolate. The evidence would be all over your face. I find it comforting that so many other girls feel the same way. To have a shoulder (or two) to lean on...it's nice. Yesterday offered me much solace. Ladies, I thank you!

There is another topic I wish to touch on. Towels. (My brain must be having one of its frequent spasms.) After our chocolate escapade, we returned to my friend’s house to indulge in a chick flick. I asked to use her bathroom and upon entry was stopped in my tracks. There, hanging on the rack was about 12 different towels. They were layered, biggest to smallest. Each had Valentine insignia. I realize that this is a common decorating technique. I find it a waste of fine linen. It was refreshing as I gazed at the towels in my own bathroom. Each could be used, not just admired. My favorite being the Little Mermaid towel hanging for the entire world to see (If the entire world happened to visit our bathroom. That's not awkward at all.). In decorative bathrooms (not that they're bad. They are, in fact, very pleasing to the eye), I find myself asking the question, "Where do I wipe my hands? I don't want to ruin their nice towels with...water." Oh, the humanity of it all. Why does the bathroom have to be another exhibit of status? We are a normal American family. If we wanted to create mountains of decorative bathroom towels, I admit, they would have a theme. Cartoon characters. I can see it now. At the bottom would be The Little Mermaid followed by Mickey Mouse. The finishing touch would be none other than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Now wouldn't THAT be a sight to see? There would be none of this mushy Valentine nonsense. Valentine's is a holiday for the greeting card companies, but that is a subject for another time...possibly Valentine's Day.

I enjoyed the evening, needless to say, even though every turn in my friends house had some reference to love, Valentine's Day, etc. I think we all need those nights to clear our shoulders of ever-mounting bricks. Women of the world UNITE! Actually, I think that would be really scary. Never mind. I just had a vision of a mob of women throwing high-heeled shoes and screeching like banshees in the night. Frightening, but no more frightening than a lack of chocolate and fifteen towels that can't be used.

Imagination

2008-02-01T16:59:00.000-08:00

As I drove home today, I noticed a mound of whipped cream over the mountains. I looked to the right and saw a floating frog. Just now, I glanced out of my window and there was an arm tightly grasping a hammer. Out my front door, an arrow was pointing to the west. Is this my imagination or can clouds tell us stories? (Word to the wise, don't check out clouds while you're driving. I had a few close calls. *Whew*). You may be asking, how can a visible mass of condensed droplets tell a story? I don't know, but they do to me.

I love watching the sky. One minute, wispy cirrus clouds leave a mark similar to that of foam from the ocean. The next, a towering giant (cumulonimbus) pours angrily across like a tidal wave. Some of my favorite clouds are the stratus, which look like dollops of heavy cream (or marshmallows, if you will) ready to be devoured. I have always enjoyed reading outside. There's something about good literature and nature that I find appealing. However, sometimes I find myself setting the book down and watching the vicissitude of the sky.

As one who has long hair, I've never relished the wind. I usually end up with a mouthful of hair whenever I leave the house. But have you ever sat and watched the clouds during a strong wind? The speed that they pass by...it's incredible. I must confess, if I had the opportunity, I would probably be a storm chaser. I have an abnormal fascination with weather and natural disasters (i.e. volcanoes, earthquakes). Normal people probably see ornery cumulonimbus clouds and get nervous. "Oh, no. I HATE thunderstorms." Excitement is what I feel. From the dark, menacing underbelly, to the majestic overhang of the anvil, I find them beautiful. As a child (I've shared a lot about my childhood. Hmmm. Oh well!), my mom, my brother and I would sit on the porch and watch storms. Rainstorms, thunderstorms, electrical storms...you name it (one that happens in Utah, that is), we probably watched it. Have you ever watched an electrical storm? The scintillating bolts leap eerily across the clouds. These are rare storms. I've only seen a few and yet they rank on my list of favorite weather anomalies. Why? They are silent. In some cases, there is no thunder due to the distance and the cloud-to-cloud arching of the lightning. The electricity snakes across the clouds, showing each intricate detail. The display from these clouds is, indeed, toward the top of my list.

Have you ever watched a beautiful sunrise or sunset? I enjoy this activity particularly. What I revel in is the colors. I'll never forget the day I looked out the window and saw the most beautiful sunset. I ran outside (with my camera) and soaked in the intense colors. The effect was like unto a rainbow. At the horizon, there was a deep, luscious red that blended into a vibrant orange. As my gaze lifted the orange softened until it met the clouds. They were purple, straight from the crayon box, the doodle of a child. You know the kind, where the kid is angry and presses the crayon so hard it snaps. That purple transfused with blue, creating a color that could never be duplicated. Looking straight up, the clouds were stained with this inimitable shade. The pictures don't do justice.

And so, I invite you to let your imagination run wild. The next time you leave your house, pay attention to the marvelous show above you. But remember...don't watch the clouds while you're driving.

Beginning and End

2008-01-31T18:01:00.000-08:00

After seeing this title, I bet you are wondering what I'll write about today. It’s probably not what you think. I am the head of the billing department at my work. I am, indeed, the dreaded person that sends bills. Believe me, I don't enjoy it any more than you. I have been through many calls with screaming customers, having profanity flung like dung in my ear. (The mental image of that was priceless) And so, this time of the month is NOT my favorite.

In keeping with the blogathon, I'm still writing and this blog will be short. Like me! (Cheesy...like me, too) Anyway, this is what my plans are for the evening. It takes me all of 5 or 6 hours to complete the process. So, if you need to talk, I'll be up until about one or two in the morning. In all honesty, it is the most tedious job. It's VERY boring and I would gladly accept the company of those who actually know who I am. I think most of my friends are busy with homework and other such nonsense. Alas, I shall suffer alone. But if you see me tomorrow with bags under my eyes (the size of shopping bags) maybe you'll understand. If you ever need to call someone in charge of the billing department...don't yell at them. They're people too! Unless they're mindless zombies who have lost all emotion, even then...they're dead people. So people they remain.

I must say, I do enjoy the feeling of helping customers decrease the amount they owe. Small things that I can do to make their burden lighter...it feels nice! And so, I'll think about that as I stuff envelopes and stamp "past due" on statements. You know, if people paid their bills, the world would be happier. And so would I!

Hope and Fear

2008-01-30T15:14:00.000-08:00

Many things cause me to hope. A gesture. A word. A smile. Each can induce a feeling of optimism. After writing my blog last night, I had a conversation with a friend that caused my hope to diminish ever so slightly. She, being one of my trustworthy friends, will always give me a straight answer. I shared with her my attraction (if you read my second blog, you know what I'm talking about), told her of some events that I've found encouraging, and how I felt that the carefully constructed shell I'd built around my heart was finally cracking. She said that her optimistic side is shouting "YIPPEE!" but her pessimistic side doesn't want me to get hurt. I am grateful that she cares for my happiness and doesn't want to lead me into a false utopia. In all honesty, I had been floating on cloud nine all day, until I heard her feelings. I felt my euphoria crumble. My mind was then flooded with unhappy memories that occurred almost two years ago. A time when I allowed my heart to fly free just to be shot down. What cruel irony.

I met a young man who I found extremely attractive. He seemed somewhat shy, or is that arrogant? That's beside the point. Well, I started getting to know him at early morning meetings. At the time, I was the secretary of the choir and therefore wrote the agenda/minutes. I enjoyed adding nonsensical phrases or funny quotes to the otherwise boring material. One afternoon, he dared me to somehow tie "red hats" into the agenda. The next week, he was surprised to find that I had accomplished the task above and beyond his expectations. This sparked a weekly challenge. Since I was interested in him, it didn't take much to accept each one with glee. The hour after the meeting became one of my favorite parts of the week. We would sit and talk; it was so comfortable to talk to him. This is when he started another game of question and answer. We asked random questions, learning more and more about each other. I loved these games. Eventually, the questions became more and more personal. I shared more about myself with him than any guy I've ever known. I developed an emotional attachment. How can you not, when you're sharing so much of yourself? We went on a few dates that were very enjoyable. I felt myself falling...hard. When I love, I love deeply. I believed that everything would work. He was so perfect.

As I dealt with this emotional relationship, I discovered he was dating someone else: One of my good friends. Being a true friend (I hope my friends view me that way. I never want people to think I'm not genuine), I will NEVER go for a guy if I know one of my friends likes him. Believe me, not all girls are like that. I had a few friends that once they found out I liked a guy, they went for him...and usually snatched him. Learning this heart wrenching news, I confronted him. Yes, I actually let him have it. But I didn't do it for myself. I wanted to stick up for my friend. He said that he never meant to lead me to believe we were anything but friends. Everything he did, the way he acted, the way he treated me with such respect, told me that he liked me. I was wrong. I felt my heart shatter. What had I done wrong? Was it something about me? I'd shared SO much of myself only to be rejected. These are questions I repeatedly asked myself during the following months; dare I say years?

Yesterday, I spoke to another friend who was frustrated about how people have a hard time getting "over" relationships. I explained what I'd learned from the heartbreak. When a relationship ends (emotional, physical, etc), it doesn't matter how amicable the split, it is the same as losing someone...a mourning process if you will. I went through the grief. I experienced every emotion imaginable. I was angry with him, felt sorry for him, cried for him, loved him, hated him, and now...I'm over him. But during this period of bereavement, I built a wall around the shards of my heart. I would not allow myself to be deceived again.

Today, even now, I fight with myself: mind vs. heart. My family and friends caution me, wanting to allow my hope to soar, but within walls carefully constructed. Is that truly the way to fly? How can a bird learn to take flight if it's always in a cage? And yet, how can I allow the exposure of my most vital organ? The door of the cage is standing open, but the bird is pressed firmly against the bars. I don't WANT to feel this way. I want my heart to be able to expand to its full capacity. And so I stand, scared and hopeful. I have one foot in the door and one foot out.

Familial Eccentricities

2008-01-29T19:07:00.000-08:00

We all understand that many things determine who we are. Our upbringing is important in creating our personalities. I want to start by saying that I have two wonderful parents. They are loving, kind, generous individuals who are always there when needed. And as I reflect, I see the vast amount of knowledge they laid at my feet. They instilled in me a love of learning, a love of family, and most important...a love of God. My parents had a firm, but caring way of discipline which turned me into the woman I am today. I owe so much to them. I also have a sister and brother who mean the world to me. Each of them has begun a new journey in life, the journey of marriage. We are a close familial unit. I want to share with you, however, the eccentricities they possess. Each member has influenced my personality for, I believe, the better. But...you decide.

Being the youngest of the clan, you can imagine the teasing and torture I endured. My brother and sister (don't kill me, guys. I have to share the hilarity of our younger years) always wanted to find faster, easier ways to accomplish things. Things such as...going down the stairs. What would allow for the swiftest ride and reduce the chance of receiving bodily harm? Neither my brother nor my sister would take the plunge. Who, you may ask, was the crash-test dummy? Why it was none other than the author herself. I would do ANYTHING for my brother and sister, my heroes. I'd hear, "ANNIE. Come here. How would you like to slide down the stairs in a laundry basket?" Oh, be still my beating heart. What a thrill awaited me. Climbing aboard the cloth-toting vehicle, they pushed the basket, and myself, to our doom. I glided down two steps, flew out of the basket, and became a human bouncy ball. A dozen stairs later, I laid motionless as my siblings watched in mock horror. The tears came swiftly as did my mom. I settled down after the two culprits received their just punishments. Nevertheless, not twenty minutes later, I heard, "ANNIE. Come here. How would you like to go down the stairs in this garbage bag?" My reply, "Ok!" It was the same tragic ending as the time before. I look back now and think, "So, that's my problem. I probably have brain damage." It sure makes for some great stories, though.

This morning I was traveling down a crowded road not far from my house. On this highway, there are two railroad tracks that pass overhead. As I drove under the second, I noticed a train passing by. Instinctively, I ducked my head. I know. The train was a good thirty feet above, why would anyone in their right mind duck? And here is another oddity, this one brought to you by the letter M. Mom. In my youth, we would travel down this road to go see our grandparents. Since we've already established my gullibility, this should not come as much of a shock. We were singing songs, having a marvelous ride, when my mom spotted a train on said tracks. "Oh no," she gasped. "You kids had better duck down or the train will cut off your heads." With the speed of a locomotive (no pun intended), my head was in my lap. I lay there trembling until I heard snickering...from my parents. The snickering turned to roaring laughter. How could they take decapitation so lightly? My mom explained that her father used to say the same thing to her. And so, it became a tradition. Every excursion that brought us under a moving train, my dad would holler, "Hurry kids, DUCK!" Immediately the three obedient children would stoop their heads in a fit of giggles.

There are many childhood memories that helped shape the person I am. But, to me, one of the funniest happened around the age of seven, nearly eight (that is to say it's hilarious to me now). I love spinning in circles. Always have. Always will. It's exhilarating, feeling the momentum throw off your center of gravity. Knowing that at any moment you may fall. In this part of my life, I don't revolve in circles frequently, but I love rolling down hills, which produces the same giddiness. As a child, I took every opportunity to twirl, especially in my frilly church dresses. One day after church, I ran in the living room and began this favorite pastime. My dad, seeing that I was in danger of crashing into the piano, said, "Annie, why don't you stop twirling now. You're going to get hurt." "Uh-uh, Daddy, I'm good at this and I can twirl for a long time. Watch me!" Repeatedly, he implored me to cease the spin that was undoubtedly causing him frustration. "You're going to get hurt. Please stop right now." "I'm not going to get hurt. I promise." Finally, on the brink of exasperation, he admonished, "If you don't stop spinning, you're giving Satan the chance to enter your body. Do you want to be possessed by the Devil?" "No." "Then STOP twirling." Collapsing on the floor and in tears, I prayed that I would be saved from this transgression. How could I unknowingly have been so stupid? How was I going to be baptized now that I had given Satan the opportunity to steal my very soul? I lay sobbing at my grievous sin until my dad reentered the room. "Honey, I'm sorry I told you that. It's not true. Satan can't take control over you when you're spinning. But you need to learn to listen when Daddy tells you not to do something. Can you do that?" Meekly, I acquiesced. After a big hug, he left only to meet my mom. "You told her what? I can't believe you'd say that to a seven-year old." "Well...it got her to stop!"

I look back now and smile at moments such as these. As a family, we discuss these memories with laughter. And yet, I can imagine the looks on some of your faces. Your parents said what to you? In their defense, my dad is an engineer and my mom is married to one. Doesn't that explain a lot?

I accept!

2008-01-28T21:00:00.000-08:00

I decided to accept Major Bubble’s blogathon challenge and, like my yellow friend, decided to share a poem from the past. Is that copying? It was a great idea and I've always had a soft spot for this particular piece of writing. It holds similar truths today as it did in high school.

Always There

Remember when I held you,
With pigtails still in my hair.
We’d play a round of Hide n’ Seek.
You always hid under the covers.
Every night I hugged you,
Before I went to sleep.
Then I dreamed about you all night.

I left your soft embrace,
When I entered Junior High.
I met some new friends.
But you were always in the back of my mind.
I came home from school,
To meet your pleasant glow.
I spilled every secret to you.
You never hesitated to listen.

Along with happy times come sad.
The sharp tongue of a friend,
Stabbed my heart.
But you were waiting to offer solace to me.
I sobbed on your shoulder,
Wiped my tears on your shirt.
And yet you stayed true.

Through frustrations came anger.
I yelled at you;
You stayed my friend.
I screamed in your face;
You extended a soft reply.
You allowed me to hit you once,
When I was too mad to control the anger.
But you loved me even then,
Just as I loved you.

Through the years we’ve both worn thin.
But our friendship remains strong.
In the storms of life we stayed together,
Instead of pulling apart.
And, dear pillow of mine,
I will love you forever;
Because you were always there.

White-Knuckle Driving

2008-01-28T20:52:00.000-08:00

*Sigh* I made it home without loss of limb or vehicle. Driving in winter is anything BUT calming. Case in point, it took me around 30 minutes to recover from nearly sliding into a fellow driver today (who was, to my horror, on a cell phone. Talking on a cell phone while driving should be cause for arrest, in my opinion). I, admittedly, allowed the anxiety and anger to course through my veins. And so, in my humble abode, I type to calm my nerves. Sadly, my knuckles have maintained their pallid appearance in spite of the moist, warm air I exhale upon them. I'm cold. This is sounding like the complaint of an austere ice sculpture. That's not about to ease my tension. Instead, I wish to share with you my awe of the wet, white wonder that is snow (awesome alliteration...hey, I did it again!).

Coming home late one night, I tiptoed across the ice to the porch. Turning, respiration ceased, having caught in my throat. Before my eye was a scene I'll never forget. It began with radiance: the beams from the streetlight, the glare from the porch bulb, the subtle glow from the neighbor’s window. The rays of luminous energy cascaded upon the newly fallen snow. Due to refracted light, the frozen crystals assumed the appearance of diamonds. A sea of crystallized carbon dazzled my eyes leading me to believe I'd entered a winter wonderland. I wanted to capture this vision of purity, to never let the stain of mud tarnish its reflective glory. In my mind it stays, forever a reminder of the beauty Heavenly Father created.

Another favorite part of winter is the tranquility. In the late evening, stepping onto my frequented porch, I listen. Just listen. The silence, almost deafening, fills me with a gentle peace. I long to share the moment with a special someone. At my feet, soft stirring interrupts my reverie. The neighbor's cat, entwining around my legs, comes to rest upon my lower extremities. Not necessarily the company I desire, but I take what I can get. Closing my eyes, I listen to nothing, allowing my thoughts to stray. These are cherished times when heaven seems just within reach. Inevitably, something interrupts the serenity forcing me to return to the world. I leave the steps hoping to someday share this glimpse of perfection with someone, someone who appreciates silence in all its repose.

Questions

2008-01-23T15:06:00.000-08:00

Have you ever battled with your mind in the wee hours of the morning? Has your mind taken over, not allowing your body to drift into that bliss we call slumber? This happened to me last night. My body was ready to shift to park but my mind switched to overdrive. And so the battle between mind and body commenced. Questions (which have been crowding in my brain) began to rush at me from every direction. Try as I might, there was no stopping them. So, I write again, displaying the internal questions which have plagued me.

We'll start with a question that doesn't carry as much depth. Why do the "Deodorant People" (I'm referring to the makers of deodorant, not those that commit to the application of said product) insist on putting Aluminum Zirconium in women's antiperspirant/deodorant? Do they not realize that there are individuals, including myself, who are allergic to the demon ingredient? There are aluminum free deodorants for men, why not women? Is this some bizarre form of discrimination? I have discovered that aluminum is strictly in antiperspirant. So why, pray tell, do they not make deodorant for women? I dare you to enter any store and find 2 sticks of women's deodorant that lacks aluminum. Then, please inform me and I will be indebted to you forever. Now, I'm not talking about the "natural" deodorants. Have you ever held one in the vicinity of your nostrils? I warn you now...don't. I will not apply anything that already smells disgusting.

Now for the dreaded topic that hovered around my head most of the night: dating. I enjoy dating...really, I do. However, we're supposed to be "finding" someone at this stage of life. How are you supposed to narrow the field if you only go on 3 dates in a 4 month time frame? And that's doing well for me. My mom always tells me that people probably think I date a lot. If this is the case, they are gravely mistaken. I would LOVE to date more! I guess my problem lies in the fact that I am a complete moron when it comes to showing interest. I pride myself in a keen perspicacity, but when it comes to guys I find attractive...it's out the window. Is he looking at me? I better look the other way, because I don't want him to think I'm one of "those" girls. You know, the ones who just won't go away. Who stare and practically stalk their unsuspecting (or suspecting) prey. Does he care if I'm a little older than he? Is he going to view me as one who may be asked advice, an "older sister", if you will. And, being older (23, SO old...sarcasm at it's finest), is he thinking "she's just not an option?" I'm lamenting about age because I'm currently in a group where most of the guys are young. Some, about to depart on missions. Others, just home. I admit that I am unabashedly attracted to a younger man (we'll call him "Dude"). Dude's not THAT much younger, but is that a problem for him? Does he even know I'm older? Maybe not. Is he interested in me? This is something I will never know. I am not a clairvoyant person. At times I wonder if he does and then I second guess myself. I can quickly recognize when a guy finds one of my friends appealing, but I'm not as keen when deciphering for myself. Be that as it may, I'm sure it's not that unusual.

How do I get out of this cautious stage? Others girls throw themselves at guys, literally. Definitely not me. Truthfully, I run away. Women have this way of batting their eyes and giving that "come hither" look. Humor is my chosen "flirt" vessel. If the guy laughs, I feel pleased. With this humor comes a facade. Do I cover my interest with witty remarks? How can I relinquish this act of covering the heart which lives on my proverbial sleeve? My gut screams that I am viewed as just a "buddy." Never as a desirable young woman. How do I (this sounds funny to me) become desirable? Never have I had a boyfriend, which certifies the assumption that I've never been kissed. I've only held hands twice (and the second one didn't count, because he was playing with my rings). I also have an aversion to asking guys on dates. In the past 6 years, every date I've been on (where I asked) my date has found his "one-and-only" within one to six months. Come to think of it, maybe I should start a dating service. "Go on one date with me and you'll find true love with another."

Next question: Why doesn't everyone have a lawn gnome? Why don't I have a lawn gnome? Perhaps there is one outside, and due to this blogging addiction I've been too busy to notice. In all honesty, I have not yet become addicted, though I can see how easy it would be. I simply needed to allow some of the questions to escape their confinement. If you have any suggestion that may help this damsel in distress, please share. Pause and rewind. Distressed isn't an adequate description. I am a damsel, but I'm not disquieted, just confused. I just need to determine whether the confusion is due to an overactive imagination or if these questions require further analysis.

Wasn't that confusing?

And so it begins...

2008-01-22T19:26:00.001-08:00

Who would have thought that I would join the ranks of the ubiquitous bloggers? I shrunk at the thought. It is one thing to read blogs, but it is entirely different to bare your soul to the world. And yet, here I am, baring my deepest self. The one known only to me, myself...and probably my mom.

Does everyone have this much trouble embarking on their first official blog? I'm sitting here contemplating the entirety of what I'm creating. Every word is under my command. Every thought is from the far reaches of The Outer Limits...I mean, my brain (which, for all we know, could BE the outer limits of human cognition). Will anyone read this? Will this word feast prove only the satiate my hunger for writing, or will it provide entertainment, even enlightenment, for those who eat...or read, as the case may be. But I say to you now, if you are eating your computer, STOP! The drive will be very hard on your digestive system. Get it? Drive? Hard? Hard-drive? I know. It was a feeble attempt at best.

However, this introduces you to the real me. Humor, laughter, genuine happiness is what pulls me through the best and worst times. I love to be cheerful, to share my joy with others. Even when I don't feel like smiling, I do it for the betterment of mankind. Well, when I smile at men, they usually run away. AHA! I think I found a story for another blog.

I must confess, I enjoy writing about the interminable procession of thought that threatens to breach my sanity. And I like using big words! Also, if you know me well, you know that I deeply appreciate the ability to spell correctly! Therefore, if I fail, I ask you to throw me in a pit somewhere with a dictionary. Then, come back in a week or so with a Slurpee. Doubtlessly, I'll be needing wet, cold, refreshing goodness! I will have thoroughly repented of the atrocity. Then, and only then, may you allow me to continue with this sacred blog. Can you rightly call a blog sacred? I guess my writing is, in truth...sacrilicious. As is the afore mentioned Slurpee.