The Good Things

I apologize if I sounded vaguely ranty in my last post. After rereading it, I don't think it's that bad, but I felt a little riled while I was writing it, so...

Anyway.

I just colored my hair! My mom still has her old magic touch and it came out absolutely perfect. A few shades darker (my natural color now looks like highlights) with some auburny-red thrown in. And it's short! Not super super short, but above-my-shoulders short. And just so you know, I've been dying (haha. pun.) to change my hair for about four months now. So it's probably one of the better parts of my Christmas break (though my whole break has been fabulous, don't get me wrong).

The other part has been the sleeping. I keep getting up super late because my sister has this anti-light thing going on, so she has blackout drapes and she flips the digital clock on its face so that the numbers don't glow. It's slightly obnoxious because apparently I have to have the sun peeking in through the window in order to convince my brain that it's time to wake up. At the very least, my body keeps track of how long the sun has been up until it can successfully guilt me out of bed. But right now it's as black as a cave in my room, even at midday, so my wake up routine is completely defunct. Joy. Not that I'm complaining too much. I never get enough sleep during the semester. But I do feel a bit bad about not getting up and helping Mom in the mornings.

Oh, and the best positive news. Apparently I was number one on the "girls to meet" list for a rather attractive guy in my family's home ward who was home from BYU for Christmas. He talked to my dad about me last week and then this week, came and found my parents again and asked about me enough that my little brother, when he caught me coming out of the bathroom (where I'd just met the guy's mom, ironically enough) said "Hey, there's a boy looking for you" in that annoying little brother way.

The "boy" looking for me was really easy to talk to and he seems like a lot of fun. Sadly, the fam was all gathered around, and so were his little brothers, so my flirting style was a little cramped and it would have been weird to exchange phone numbers right then. So it ended with a "I really really hope we bump into each other on campus" instead. Not quite as much of a guarantee of seeing each other again, but at least there's the mutual hope of a accidental meeting, right?

Regardless, it felt awesome to have someone looking for me like that.

All in all, this break has been awesome. My family was exactly the kind of antidote I needed after such a hectic and, let's be honest, awful semester. Yes, there were a lot of good things about this last semester, but it was still a rough ride, and I needed a good strong dose of tonic to recover from it. Family is the best medicine I know of, and this break has been no exception. I'm honestly excited about this next year. It's no longer something to survive, but rather something to savor and enjoy as I go through it. So bring on 2011. The old Lynnae is back to run the show again. :)

To Mission or Not To Mission

I received a Christmas letter yesterday from an old Iowa friend who is currently serving a mission. He'd written me to say that he wasn't sure why, but he felt like he should invite me to serve a mission. He expressed a few concerns about the fact that I'd never really wanted to, even though I'd done a lot of missionary-type work when we were growing up. It was funny because the letter got me thinking, and in a way, it did help me figure out whether or not I should serve a mission.

The answer? No. I won't be serving a mission. Not at this age, anyway.

And trust me, I've thought about it. A lot. As a lot of you know, I've gone through a lot of soul-searching and goal-setting this last semester as I figure out what I want from my life, and none of those decisions have been made without a lot of help from Upstairs, if you know what I mean. It has been interesting to note that a mission only comes up when other people (usually those not close to me) suggest it. Which sends me into a "should I?" mode. I usually sit on it for a few days to see if anything else comes of it and it inevitably disappears. Always.

The nice thing about my friend's letter was that I read through his encouragements without a scrap of that needling, prodding feeling you get when you're supposed to be paying close attention to something. Instead, it was this sort of dispassionate "yeah, that's a great thing, but you're supposed to be doing something else" thought running through my head. Which means that I'm not just making this stuff up.

So please, no pressuring me into serving a mission. I would go if it was the right thing to do.

On the flip side, I loved the part of President Monson's talk about senior couples and I knew for sure that that was something that I personally am expected to do with my husband after our kids are grown. And I'm super stoked about that.

Also, I'd like to point out that I'm graduating soon. And going through the temple. And gearing up for job-hunting. Things are playing out in such a way as to make a mission extremely difficult, which, considering it's all being run by the Lord right now, anyway, would seem to be a pretty good indication of His plans, don't you think?

Addendum

Also, today is the first day of winter. I know, I'm sorry Utah. You've had winter for two months now. And Austin apparently got the memo and chose to reject it, seeing as my mom, my brother and I were all lying out on the grass last night with short sleeves and bare feet so that we could watch the lunar eclipse. Too bad the fog got thick right as the full eclipse happened. But we saw most of it.

This is also my 100th blog post since starting my blog. Not really a huge thing, but I thought it was special. I'd half intended to have this special commemorative blog post to celebrate, but that just seemed strange, plus I couldn't fit the contents of this entry under "Christmas Traditions" so... it gets its own spot as the 100th blog post. Yay.

!!

Here is the extent of my celebration, both of Winter Officially Starting and Lynnae's 100th Blog Entry:

Christmas Traditions that I Love

So, every year, people ask about any unique Christmas traditions that families have, and while I know I can never compete with Qait's family (booby-trapping their entire house to see if the kids can get to the tree without waking the parents up), I think my family has some pretty great traditions.

For example, while she hasn't done it regularly, my mom has, for several years, taken the Baby Jesus figures from every single nativity scene (we have a dozen or so) on Christmas Eve and wrapped them all up in a gift that's placed prominently in or under the tree, and on Christmas morning, the first thing we do before even peeking in our stockings, is unwrap that present and redistribute the figures to their proper nativity scenes. A symbolic representation of the Savior's birth. I've always loved it because it puts the focus on the real reason that we celebrate Christmas right at the beginning of the day before we do anything else.

We also have a tradition of "treasure hunts" that consist of rhyming couplets that give us clues to follow until we discover our present in some secret or hard-to-get-to place. For a word nerd like me, composing rhyming couplets is both easy and ridiculously fun. I made a treasure hunt for my baby brother today and read the clues aloud to Mom to see if she would laugh. If she did, I considered them good enough, and moved on to the next clue. I just love the personal touch it adds to the gift-giving, especially since most of the treasure hunts contain at least a handful of inside jokes that no one else would ever understand, but they mean something to us.

Most years, we go caroling or at least homemade-bread-delivering and it's been fun to see the progressive increase in singing talent. This year we actually sounded darn good thanks to Ben finally being old enough and trained enough to offer the fourth part to our harmony. That kid has a great voice, and I was surprised at how much musical talent my family has, even though we've never been one of those families that everyone knows has ridiculous amounts of musical ability.

My mom also has this flannel-board story about the Littlest Star that she's told us every Christmas since I was a little girl. Sadly, I think the flannel board finally died, so I'm not sure the story will ever be quite the same, but I know the story by heart anyways. Remind me to tell it sometime.

So there you are. Our Christmas traditions. I look forward to adding homemade eggnog to the list of Christmas traditions, and I kind of want to make our secret family recipe (Love Rolls -- which are heavenly) a Christmas thing too. At least for me and my future family. Conditional on my mastering the recipe, of course. Mom's going to teach me sometime during break. :)

Thoughts from a Transplant

Hello world. I've missed you. Well, sort of. Being back with the family is great, and I've been too busy enjoying that to worry much about notifying everyone else that I was in fact still alive. But I am. Never fear.

Okay, so it might be interesting to note that, of the four years (and therefore four Christmases) that I've been in college, I have never spent Christmas in the same place twice. The first year, I went home to Iowa. The next year, I spent it in Utah, because my family came up to see me. Last year I was in California, and this year, well, it's bright, sunny, warm Austin, Texas.

The last time that being "home" for Christmas felt completely like "home" in the way that everyone else thinks of it, I was in Iowa. My freshman year. Since then, my family has moved around and I didn't live in California long enough for it to ever feel like home as far as going to church and seeing friends and people who watched me grow up, and all that great stuff about going home to your roots. Instead, I'm "the Jackson's other daughter" and I get asked the exact same questions by every person I meet about what I'm studying, when I graduate, and what I want to do with my life.

And honestly? I'm a little lonely. At least in the non-family social scene. I miss being around people who know just a little too much about me and drag me on those sometimes-obnoxious trips down memory lane, thus forcing me to relive stupid and/or hilarious things that I did as a teenager. Because no one around here knows those things about me. No one knows what kind of student I was, whether I was the troublemaker in Sunday School, how many pranks I pulled at Girls Camp, or any of those other fun things. Although, granted, I was a good kid, so there aren't a whole lot of blackmail stories that people have about me anyway, but I miss them trying to come up with blackmail material.

Also, I've noticed that being teased about the status of my "M.R.S. degree" (which really isn't all that funny anyway) by a complete stranger is infinitely more insulting than if it were coming from, say, my seminary teacher or the guy who was the Young Men's president while I was growing up.

That being said, I've come to conclude that, as sad as it may be, the closest thing to a "home ward" that I still have is my single's ward at BYU. More people know me there than in my last two wards combined. Kind of lame? Perhaps. But that's what happens when you become a transplant as your family moves around.

Now don't get me wrong. I love that my family moves around. It means new adventures, new places, and Texas is absolutely gorgeous. The little midwestern girl in me who's been missing the wide open spaces and tree-filled rolling hills is extremely happy here in Texas. And it may be surprising to hear, but I also find the Texas pride endearing and enchanting, rather than trite and overbearing. They have a lot of true patriotism and loyalty to themselves and their country, and I like that. It brings back memories from early early elementary school, when they still taught us about what a great nation the United States was, rather than how bad we suck, like they tend to do now. Like it or not, these people have something to stand for, and I like that they do.

Oh, and I feel like gloating just a little bit, because the weather is balmy and beautiful today. I'm more likely to put on short sleeves and walk out of the house without a jacket, than anything else, and although I miss the snow and the whole "white Christmas" thing, I get enough of that during the rest of the winter while I'm in Utah.

So to summarize the thoughts that have been running through my head the last several days as I experience Texas:

I have nothing against being here. I love that my family gets to live here, and I honestly don't think I'd mind at all settling down in a place like this someday. The landscape is beautiful, the trees are big, the rain is rain rather than sprinkles leaking from the sky, and the small-town charm of Cedar Park (where we actually live, just outside of Austin) reminds me of the small-town places we lived when I was growing up.

I am, however, a little lonely for a true home ward, where people know me. I also miss being able to come home and stick my nose into the business of all the young men and women who were still in primary when I left for college and see how much they've all grown up.

Moving around is great, and as long as I have my family, every place feels like home. But it can be a little lonely to be "home" without having all those deep-set roots to anchor you to a place.

So those are my thoughts about being a transplant to Texas. In case any of you ever wondered.

Double Trouble

So I got on Facebook this morning and noticed I had two event notifications. The first one said "Party time with Kyle & Rachel!" I knew it was the wedding event/invite for my ward friend Rachel and her brand spanking new fiance. Since I'm pretty sure I'm free that day (sometime in February), I said yes.

Then came the confusion.

The next invite? "Kyle & Rachel are getting mare-weeeeed!" But it was for a way, way different date than the first one. I clicked in and stared at it for a second before realizing that it was in fact an invite for a different friend named Rachel (an old Michigan friend) who was, funnily enough, also marrying a man named Kyle.

I had to laugh. Go figure. I also know an apartment of guys who once upon a time all married girls named Stephanie...

On the bright side, the likelihood of that happening to me is next to none.

However, I wish to extend congratulations to both my Rachel-friends. I'm so happy for  you both! And I will definitely try to make it to both weddings. I consider it a blessing that the doubleness only extended as far as the names: the dates are still different, which means that, barring any unexpected happenings, I can go to both. :)

Also, I love that both "WE'RE ENGAGED!!!" pictures looks roughly the same as far as posing goes.

Additional congratulations to Monique & John, Tevan & Ris (no double-name problems for you two!), Dan & Alisha, Matt & Joanna, Faith & Joe, Heidi & Nate, MacKenna & Drew (I'm so sad that your wedding date moved up! I wanted to be there!), and the dozens of other couples who got engaged or are getting married. You all deserve the very best!

Oh, and on the topic of wedding announcements (well, sort of on topic...), this is probably the funniest/randomest wedding announcement I've ever seen. I don't think I'd ever be inclined to do something like this, but they win points for originality. And yes, I do know them. Well, him. He's an acquaintance from California, and from what I know about him, this totally fits.

Counting Blessings

A friend asked me last week to count my blessings. I didn't know it at the time, but he had an ulterior motive. Turns out he was definitely on to something, though. Anyway, I'm exhausted. I had a big family party last night, came home to a roommate Christmas party, went to bed, woke up at 4am to write a 10 page paper (yes, all 10 pages of it) by 9am, and now I'm off to work until 5pm.

However, with that in mind, I'm still grateful for a lot of things. So here are the good things about today ("today" being loosely defined as the last 24 hours or so)

- I got to see my cousin Jason again. He's been a favorite cousin for decades, and it was great to reminisce and talk again after two years
- I finished the paper I got up this morning to write, which means the biggest stress of my finals week is over pretty much before finals even begin
- I finally have a date with the one I've been waiting all week to hear from. :)
- Yesterday was pretty much a giant "I love you, Lynnae" hug from the Lord, so I cried a ton, but it felt amazing. It's been a crappy semester (as you all know), and it felt like He was reminding me that I'd done a good job and He still loved me in spite of my laziness/overstressing tendencies.
- I go home in about 94 hours, which means I get to see Mom, Dad, and the whole slew of siblings. Hallelujah.
- I have nothing else to stress me out today. Just work, which is almost always enjoyable to the max.
- My roommates take great care of me, as does my little brother.
- I had a great heart-to-heart with one of my other cousins last night, and I'm so immensely grateful for how close I am to all of my family, both immediate and extended.
- This semester is almost over, and I'm still praying for that January miracle. I just want next semester to be better than this one. Something tells me that it will be.

Scheduling Conflicts: Story of My Life

Okay, what is with everything suddenly springing up at me during the last two weeks of school? And I don't mean school stuff. Ironically, school is being surprisingly kind by lightening up during my finals, which is a huge relief. No, I'm talking about my social calendar. Suddenly people are exploding out of the woodwork with things they want me to be a part of and I'm sort of frustrated by it. I mean, hello, where were you guys all semester? I mean, I like the dates, parties, and reunions, but seriously, do they all have to be at the same time??

Which brings me to the topic of tonight. It's not that I have date every night or something like that, but I am juggling two engagements tonight (it would have been three, but I had to drop one). Remember that date I chose to bail on last week? Yeah, so he did in fact take advantage of the rain check I offered... asking me to do the same thing this week. Although, he did show up at my apartment this time and ask me in person. Which won him back some brownie points.

Unfortunately, some old friends from Iowa really want to see me and my brother tonight, and since one of them is the girl that my brother is still secretly crazy about, I am definitely going to do whatever I have to to make the reunion happen. But that leaves me in a tight spot, because I can't bail on a rain check. There are so many things wrong with that that it's not even an option. Which means that I have to try to keep things short and still hope to get us up to Bountiful in time to see the girl.

Enter Kristopher, my ever-constant knight-in-shining-armor. Figuring out rides and transportation was extremely stressful and after trying five or six different options and getting so frustrated that I wanted to throw something, I grumbled that it would be really convenient to still be dating a man with a vehicle, because presumably, a boyfriend would not mind going and meeting old friends of mine for one night, while very few other people would enjoy it. Especially since, to be dating me, he'd probably be more interested in spending time with me, right? That aside, in the absence of a vehicularly endowed boyfriend, I settled on calling my best friend to see if he might be willing to help. He's a champ. I only wish I could do the same for him.

Dear Santa

It's definitely very late, and way out of my parents' price range, but what I really want for Christmas? Adobe InDesign. Yeah. No need to remind me I'm a nerd. But it would make homework and life so much easier. Perhaps my student loans may come in handy. If I'm going to get it, I need to do it before I graduate in order to take advantage of the educational pricing. *sigh* If only money was easier to come by.

Christmas Cheer

What is it about working in the kitchen that makes it feel so much more like Christmas? It's probably because my mom always cooked everything from scratch when I was growing up, so cooking just seems like a natural part of Christmas. You know, the more I think back to how much my mom cooked and how rarely we opted for premade meals, the more impressed I am with the talent, patience, and ingenuity that she displayed in preparing meals for us every day for roughly 23 1/2 years. And she's still going strong! Granted, we kids help a lot more often with food  ideas and preparation these days (well, when I'm home, which is hardly ever), but still.

Anyway, I recently watched Julie & Julia, which is the true-life story of Julie Powell, a young insurance clerk who decides to spice up her hum-drum life by making every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in the space of a year. Paralleling her story in the movie is the account of how Julia Child became Julia Child.

All the food made me hungry, but that aside, I really liked the idea of learning to cook that way. I don't think I could ever be that ambitious (not to mention I don't have the money), but the story, combined with recent events that have made me really appreciate the dedication my mother has shown as far as feeding us, helped me realize that I really want to cook, and cook well. I've been to homes where the family rarely cooks homemade meals and I don't want to raise my family that way. There's an extra fondness and attachment that comes from knowing that you and your family created a culinary masterpiece from scratch.

Plus, I really do like cooking. I don't have the time or the money to create elegant, delicious meals all the time. Not to mention, it's very hard to cook most recipes for just a single person. But I still enjoy cooking from time to time. I have a couple of delicious spice combinations for tilapia (even Savannah thinks it smells heavenly, even though she hates fish). My mom's Missionary Meatloaf is legendary (and I make it taste just as good). I found an awesome cheese-stuffed shells recipe. I wish I had more time to cook, but right now, I don't. It's very sad. :(

Disclaimer: most pictures of food that
I include aren't taken by me.
I'm not that talented.

However, today, I tried my hand at eggnog! My brother has a really good recipe that he's made for the last several Thanksgivings and Christmases. I swiped it from him last time he made it, quizzed him about the different ways to substitute ingredients in and out, and found the combination I liked best. Since my work's Christmas party is coming up on Friday, I decided to make a gallon of it to share with my coworkers. It tastes awesome. Once it's fully chilled, I'll have to compare it to Brian's. Either way, it blows store-bought eggnog out of the water (or, well, milk...sorry, bad pun). I think I'll always make homemade eggnog for Christmas from now on.

Adding to my feeling of Christmas cheer is the new pine-y, Christmas-y scented candle I bought, which smells delightful. It's taken long enough, but it's beginning to feel a lot more like Christmas to me now. I'm guessing the Christmas feeling will skyrocket as soon I get home, too. There's just something about being home that makes Christmas feel the way it should.

Fun Fact: Eggnog is one word. I've been spelling it wrong my entire life. The things you learn when you type a word into google to find a picture of something...

One Dream Fulfilled

As crazy as this sounds, I used to daydream about editing. Please feel free to roll your eyes at me: I don't mind.

Anyway, I once heard editing described as the "pajama job" because most editors are able to work from home (which, incidentally, is one of the reasons I'm so excited about my career: I can be a mom and still do what I love to do at the same time). They have flexible schedules and, as long as they meet deadlines, they're free to work at their own pace.

Anyway, it wasn't long after hearing that description that I conjured up this image of me, several years down the road, sitting down with a piece to edit, curled up in comfy sweats, with a steaming mug of hot cocoa at my side, and gentle music playing in the background. That seems like the perfect life, though I've always expected to have to slog through some dreary desk jobs to join the privileged ranks of freelance editors who can do exactly that.

Not so. Thanks to my awesome boss giving her consent, my coworker and I went to the Bookstore last week to pick up a couple of cans of gourmet hot cocoa after we'd discovered that our office had a cocoa-latte machine.

Today, as I poured myself a mug of cocoa and sat down at my desk to edit a training script, I realized that I am currently living in that ideal picture I always loved to imagine. Everything was just how I pictured it: the music, the cocoa, the comfortably cross-legged sitting position on my chair that reclines just enough. And in that moment, my life felt absolutely perfect.

Well, except for the fact that I couldn't wear the sweat pants. The dress code is a little more restrictive than that. :)

The Index Intruder

Have you heard of the Bed Intruder? It's kind of become a cult classic. Gets quoted everywhere. Well, as of today, Antoine has officially intruded into my editing class. And let's just say, it let out a lot of tension. See, it's the second-to-last day of class (whoa. Reality check. That's freaky.) and we're just now starting on how to edit an index (which basically means you have to know how to write one) and the problem is that indexing is extremely tricky. You'd think it would be straight-up alphabetical, right? Well, technically yes.

But that's where the problem starts.

What about numbers? Roman numerals (you treat them differently, by way)? Commas? Titles? If something is two words, do you put it under the first word or create the entry with the second word first?

Cue Prince Henry's monologue from Ever After:

 Is that the lady you're supposed to be with or was it the first? And if so, when the two of them were walking side by side were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first or, was the second one supposed to be first?

Yup. Pretty much my thoughts exactly. Except... not about romance. It's about indexing entries.

Behold, the inner workings of my mind. Such a nerd at heart.

Anyway, we were so fed up with all the rules and nitpicky details that made no sense that we were about to start a mutiny, when some guy up in the front started saying, "These rules are really dumb. Fo' real...." in a perfectly passable imitation of Antoine Dodson. I had to laugh. Less at how funny or not-funny the quote was, and more at the fact that the Bed Intruder has successfully invaded the one realm where vernacular cliches and slang phrases are usually least tolerated.

I say least-tolerated meaning that there are a shocking number of editors who are exactly how most people think of them: grammar-nazi correctness freaks who love red pens and making papers bleed. We're not all like that, I promise. But some people are. They make me wince, but they're out there.

Anyway. Welcome, Antoine Dodson, to the editing circle. Just know that we language-geeks appreciate you, too.

Michelle

So that better choice I mentioned yesterday? Just got better today. I went to crash my brother's ward's break-the-fast because Stephanie and I were hungry and Michelle's birthday dinner was planned for later. Brian's friend (the flirtatious one) was there, naturally, and we talked for a little while. Then, later on, he caught me by myself and said, "Hey, I have a question." When I responded curiously, he said, "Can I take you to lunch sometime this week?" followed closely by, "Can I have your number so that I can call you for lunch sometime this week?"

Wow. Brownie points to the man for being straightforward. Considering his already-existent appeal based on the fact that he was easy to talk to, he definitely got a yes. :) And my weekend got even better.

But... on to the main point of my entry today:

TODAY IS MICHELLE'S BIRTHDAY! And, to borrow a rather clever quote from a girl in my ward, she's turning 19 for the... well, unstated number of times in a row. If she wishes to reveal her age, that's up to her.  I won't do it for her. But that's beside the point. As we all know, age is just a number, and Michelle exactly as old or young as she should be. I love her for it, and I often forget that she's a different age from me at all.

So, to celebrate the anniversary of Michelle's birth, Savannah cooked a fabulous dinner that we ate as roommates (joined by Kunkee, who is as much a part of our closest circle as any of our roommates are). Part of me hated Savannah for her cooking, because I couldn't help but eat more of it than my body would have liked. It was worth the stuffed-to-the-brim feeling, though. :)

I'm so glad that I have Michelle as a roommate. She's been a huge example and a wonderful sister. So many people have told me that they found their best friends in high school or in their freshman year of college, but for me, I found all my true friends a little later than that (aside from Qait, who's been my sister for 7 years now). But believe me, it was worth the extra wait. There are times that I think about moving away and changing things up, but honestly, I couldn't bear the thought of facing everyday life without them. It's a support system that I know I can rely on, no matter what happens.

Outside of my parents, who are the most steady, loving, solid support I could ever ask for, my roommates are my lifeline. And Michelle and her faith, testimony, love, and crazy-but-contagious-laugh is a huge part of that. So thank you, Michelle, for being my sister. I love you.

The Better Choice

It's been a long time since I've run up against major conflicts in my social schedule. Academic conflicts happen all the time. But seeing as how I've been keeping my social life to a minimum in an attempt not to fail at school, it never seems to be very eventful. Until this weekend. See, I got asked on this date for tonight. Well, sort of. More specifically, one guy wanted to take my roommate out and I guess to make it a double he convinced his roommate to take someone too. But his roommate was too shy to actually ask me, so the guy that asked Stephanie out on a date also did the asking on behalf of his roommate to get me to go as well. Confusing? It certainly was. Especially since my date was, in fact, standing right there.

Now, to be clear, I have no issues with going on a date with said boy (well, technically, he's unnamed, and will remain so), but I do wish he'd been brave enough to actually do the talking himself. It might have made my decision a lot harder.

Because I'd forgotten up to that point that I'd promised Brian I'd go on the SLC temple trip with his ward, which was also tonight. I also had been unaware that the times overlapped significantly. So when Brian reminded me and pointed out that I'd been included in the reservations, I suddenly found that I had a pressing decision to make. Did I bail on Brian to go on a date with a guy who was too scared to ask me out? (It was earning sympathy/kindness points, since I didn't want to insult him or make him feel rejected). Or did I keep my earlier commitment and go to the temple with my brother's ward?

Well, I chose the temple.

After politely calling my date and telling him of the situation, I offered a rain check to our date in the hopes that perhaps he'll be courageous enough to take advantage of the very clear opening I'm giving him.

In short, the temple trip was awesome. I have no doubts that the date would have been fun (Stephanie said it was), but I had needed to go to the temple. Plus, I can't think of a better way to spend my evening than with my little brother, especially since he's going on his mission soon, and I won't get to do things like this with him for at least two years.

As an added bonus, I also found myself being escorted around by one of my brother's ward friends, who flirted shamelessly with me. Makes a girl feel good. :) Especially since he reminded me a lot of my first boyfriend, which is a relationship that, even in its post-breakup just-friends phase, I've always cherished. 

So there were a lot of good things about tonight. The Salt Lake Temple is absolutely stunning on the inside. The food was great. I got quality time with my little brother, who will be getting endowed in 18 days (!!!). Not to mention, being on that trip and eating dinner in the temple cafeteria with all the endowed members in their whites was a huge help in rekindling my excitement about going through the temple this coming August. It brought it back into the realm of the real and attainable. I needed that. My primary focus recently has been on school, which puts a lot of things on the back burner, and I didn't really want temple prep to get back-burnered too much.

So long story short, I made the better choice for me tonight, and I'm glad. It's been a fabulous evening.

Nicely polished off, of course, by a round of Munchkin Bites with Zivko, Stephanie, and Brian. ^_^

Halfsies

It's my half-birthday today. I'm feeling a bit old. And yet, way too young at the same time. Welcome to my life of conflicting emotions. :)

And yes, I do actually keep track of my half-birthday. I even have a party planned. If by party you mean catching up on the four episodes of Chuck that I still haven't watched. That's my glamorous half-birthday celebration.

Happy

So, I'm a pretty happy girl right now. I've got a date on Saturday. My Shakespeare paper is done. My Varieties of English professor nixed the final and moved our final paper's due date to the day our final is scheduled, which gives me about half a week longer to work on it. My Shakespeare paper is done. I'm home, and slept fantastically last night. I have full control over my own meals. I can ride my bike again, even though it's cold. And did I mention that my Shakespeare paper is done? Because it is. And that makes me happy. ^_^

Also, I will be seeing my family in 17 days.

Seriously, I'm in Love

Now to be honest, I'm not all that into crushing on celebrities/fictional characters played by celebrities. However, I've had a soft spot for Chuck for four seasons now, and then suddenly, he's in Tangled and he's singing. So I googled him (har har) to verify the facts and came upon this little gem on YouTube.

I know I can't have him, but holy crap. Cute, tall (6'4"!), funny, talented, not afraid to be a dork. Can I has a less-famous one?

See what I mean?

Basically, I'm impressed. He's a very talented, very down-to-earth kind of guy, and, considering Hollywood these days, I find it refreshing. Never fear, it's not the kind of crush that interferes with real life. It just means that I've hunted down a couple of songs that he's done and now have them on my playlist. :)

Long Story Short

We made it through the "blizzard" that was, in fact, a wimpy little flurry of snow. At least in Provo. No offense to the people who suffered through the truly bad, real blizzard version up north

California was warm(er) and sunny (sometimes)

I love Tangled. Best Disney movie I've seen in years

Turkey + Kelly Rummy + heavenly mint creme pie = sleepy, happy Lynnae

Disneyland was freaking awesome

Four camera's worth of pictures is a lot of pictures (some of which will be posted soon...ish)

I got a fuzzy blanket to add to my blanket collection, which just adds to my ability to keep warm should a real blizzard ever hit and we be left without electricity. I. Love. Blankets!

No matter how warm you think you are, never go on Splash Mountain anytime between October and May. You will never get dry and warmth will become only a fond, wistful memory

Tower of Terror has been and continues to be my favorite ride

When in doubt, have what my brother is having. His Club 33 dinner was much better than mine

Except for the Chocolate Trilogy, which was as epic as it sounds

I won the battle against Michelle's cat Lilly for the spot on the couch where I was supposed to sleep

Not all bunnies are on Stephanie's demons-that-must-be-destroyed list. That was news to me

Homesickness sucks

I miss my family and appreciate more than ever how truly amazing, loving, and kind they all are

Roadtrips are more fun when you snuggle and listen to awesome music

Editing a paper for a group project in a moving vehicle is not exactly the most effective endeavor in the world

Zachary Levi has been holding out on me. He has a beautiful singing voice and I never knew. It's official. Chuck needs to sing someday very soon

And last but not least, I'm now home, safe and sound, and am going to now answer the siren call of my bed. After being apart for almost a week, it's going to be a sweet reunion indeed.

RunRunRun!

So, campus is closing down. People are battening their hatches and prepping for the incoming storm. And what are we doing? Scrambling to pack as fast as we can so that we can get on the road and hopefully outrun the blizzard and get far enough south fast enough that we won't have to drive in the snow.

And can I just say that I'm SO glad we're spending Thanksgiving in nice, warm, sunny Southern California? Be jealous all you peeps stuck in Provo. Be very, very jealous! 

Wish us luck. I'll see you on the other side of this blizzard. ^_^

Friends with Benefits

My life is awesome. Allow me to include an excerpt from an email I got from Kristopher:

Enjoy it, love it, remember you love me and all the goodies I bring you. I will flirt with some girls this week to get you some more treats, do you have any special ones you like?

I've already had a bag of chocolate chip cookies, a plate of brownies, and a plate of no-bake cookies (heaven, btw) delivered to my apartment in the last few days. Granted, this is only because Kristopher is training for a marathon and won't eat junk food. Therefore he has to pawn it off on someone else. It's such a burden, but I'm willing to be of service. ;)

Seriously though. Girls keep giving him goodies. And then he gives them to me. It really pays to have good-looking friends. Just don't tell the girls that I'm reaping the benefits of their culinary labors. And in the meantime, I have to try really hard not to get fat while I'm eating goodies and editing Kristopher's med school applications. ^_^

TGIF!

Music 101 tests will be the death of me. Not because I'm failing them. On the contrary, I'm doing remarkably well considering my ineptitude at distinguishing musical patterns in classical music. But seriously, I spend so many hours studying for those tests. And by the time I'm done, my level of functionality is appallingly low. So I'm kind of glad that the game night Michelle had planned for tonight didn't work out. I'm not required to be remotely intelligent now. :)

The Gratitude List:

A successful double-date that was a lot of fun, considering I orchestrated the planning part of it last-minute. But after spending three weeks trying to make the blind date between Stephanie and my friend happen, we pulled it off and had a ton of fun. So much so that it was like pulling teeth for Michelle to get us to end the date and go to the Harry Potter premiere. But I felt a clash of priorities. Boys and fun socializing vs. waiting in a theater for two and half hours? Really, it's no contest. Which would be why I wheedled 45 extra minutes out of her, clever girl that I am.

Seeing Kenna at the Harry Potter premiere. That girl could be my soul mate, and I never get to see her, so hearing her call my name was probably the highlight of the evening. Also, Kenna was planning mild forms of revenge on my behalf regarding past events and while I discouraged her from any such pursuits, I appreciate the loyalty and affection that it represents.

THE WEEKEND! I'm so exhausted and I feel like I've really earned this weekend. It's been a long but very productive week.

I fixed up the tires on my bike so that I could use it again, and I'm so grateful that it gets me to school faster and gives me some exercise at the same time.

Munchkin Bites. Awesome game. Full of funny drawings, wacky words, and bizarre scenarios.

Ryan word-nerding out with me while playing said game. It always warms my soul to encounter someone who loves words as much as I do, especially when that person isn't competitive about it. It wasn't a who-knows-more contest and I loved that fact.

Much Ado about Nothing. Because, as we all know, I love Shakespeare, and I love that play in particular. I always forget how much until I watch it again. :)

This time next week, I will be in Southern California. At Disneyland, to be precise. That's enough happy to carry me through for several days.

I bumped into a friend at the testing center and he gave me a ride home. Considering the dark, I am extraordinarily grateful for friends with cars.

Kristopher brought us cookies the other night. And it's always so much fun to answer the phone when he calls.

High Price, High Reward

So is finishing a ginormous Shakespeare paper two weeks before it's due. Three weeks of research, four days of motivating myself (sometimes unsuccessfully) to get the writing done, and one 9 page paper later, I have conquered. I feel awesome right now. ^_^

PDA

Okay, so normally, I choose not to get up on my soapbox about PDA and couples being all lovey-dovey because I have been forced to eat my words in the past. As in, I’ve been guilty of it too. So, I tend to avoid getting riled about it at all.

However, I walked out of my office to refill my water bottle in the hall and there was this couple sitting right on the very edge of the bench by the door. I mean, right on the edge of the bench. So close to the door that I almost tripped over their feet and into their laps on my way out the door. Now, uncomfortable though that often is, it’s fairly normal. People sit on the edge of that bench all the time. But this couple happened to look up at me as I came out the door, which produced a feeling akin to looking down at a six-year-old who has their arms wrapped around your waist and is begging for your attention. Except that six-year-olds don’t have that “You totally just interrupted us in the middle of our sweet nothings” look on their face. Ever.

As I regained my composure after almost crashing (literally) into this little PDA session, the guy went right back to nuzzling his girlfriend’s ear, which left me to wander down the hall, fill my water bottle, and then have re-face them on my way back into my office. Again, the looking-up-at-me-like-I’ve-interrupted-you is just not going to make this any easier for anybody. Just… pretend I’m not here. Really. I just work here. Consider me a part of the infrastructure. Invisible and about as nosy as that wall you’re leaning up against. Just don’t stare, please.

Now again, I’m perfectly aware that there are some situations of even the tamest PDA that will make someone feel awkward. You can’t avoid that. In fact, I don’t recommend trying. I’m all for small demonstrations of devotion in public. You’re happy, you’re in love. By all means, feel free to show it. The people who hate you for it are typically jealous for one reason or another. But there’s a line. Sitting there with arms and legs and heads all tangled together, staring at each other with googly eyes, and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears is great. But keep it at home. We’re in a school. We’re trying to study. We’re trying to work. And it’s both distracting and uncomfortable for unfortunate bystanders and passersby.

Many people may disagree with me, but I’m totally okay with seeing couples holding hands, kissing before going to class, or even leaning against each other doing homework while on campus. The occasional back-scratch or playing-with-the-hair isn’t all that uncomfortable to witness, either. In such cases, I often think, “aw. Cute” rather than “ew.” Heck, I used to meet my boyfriend on campus for lunch and we’d end up dozing under a shady tree most of the time, so I don’t have much room to be hyper-critical of couples being snuggly. But when you more closely resemble a bowl of spaghetti because the casual viewer can’t locate or trace where all the arms and legs are going, that’s just… too much. Especially when you’re in the way, like in the middle of a hallway, sitting on a walkway, or sharing an enclosed study-space with others.

Which is why I was annoyed. Because Spaghetti Couple was not only resembling my not-so-favorite pasta (except when Brian makes it: then it’s absolutely delish) but they were so close to the door that I had to walk through. People do come in and out of there. Often. The only thing I’m grateful for (regarding Spaghetti Couple – the rest of my day has been pretty good) is that they did cease and desist at least partly while I was in the immediate vicinity. Granted, the staring-up-at-me part was more than a little disconcerting. And unnecessary. Believe me, I was not at all interested in trying to creep on their little tender moment.

But all that said, I’m not discouraging Spaghetti Couple from being in love. Happy canoodling (haha, pun on noodle. Kunkee would be proud) and I wish them a felicitous relationship. Just… don’t… stare at the poor unfortunates who were caught off guard. The close proximity was more the problem than what they were actually doing. And the staring. Geez.

Have I mentioned that it was the staring that really got me? I don’t stare at them. I prefer the mutually-agreed-upon ignoring of each other method, no matter the level of PDA.

Small Joys

Since my last post was pretty much one long, detailed gratitude item, today's entry will be just a list. Plus, I don't really have any aspects of my life that I wish narrate/expound on at the moment. Life is good. ^_^ That's better than I was able to say during portions of last week.

THE LITTLE THINGS THAT MAKE ME SMILE (and therefore I'm grateful for them):

I have a Mac mouse attached to my PC at work, because all the PC mice (mouses? what's the correct plural for the electronic version?) decided to crap out on us, but I didn't feel like bothering my boss about buying a new one. So I stole a spare mouse from our Mac equipment. I enjoy seeing the contradiction, especially when the IT guys try to use my computer. It gets great expressions of confusion from them.

Brownies at work, since it was Laurel's birthday, and she decided to share the love, thus providing me with easy access to chocolatey baked goods, which are always most welcome.

I'm currently recycling an old Shakespeare paper from freshman year for a paper I need to write for my Shakespeare class this semester. I looked at it today and found, to my immense surprise and pleasure, that it is already 9 pages long, which is well within the page requirement for the new assignment. So basically, all I have to do is trim out some of the quotes from the play itself, add in citations from the research I've been doing, and do a deep-tissue edit on it, and I'm all set.

On that note, I'm grateful for my editing class, because we're doing workshops at the end of the week, and we're each supposed to submit a paper (old or current) from another class to be edited by our peers. Free editing! It means that my eyes won't be the only ones looking at this paper.

The smell of leaves as I walked home today. One bright side to the cold, drizzliness that has been dripping from the sky for the last two days: the wetness brings out the scent of the leaves and I LOVE it!

My brother is going on his mission to Puebla, Mexico on March 30th, 2011. Old news for most people by now, but thinking about it gives me warm fuzzies. I'm inexpressibly proud of my little brother for all that he's accomplished with his life so far, and everything he's going to do in the future. He is going to be an awesome missionary, and he'll come home to be a wonderful husband to a very lucky girl.

The way Michelle gets really into any movie we watch or game we play. Her enthusiasm always makes me smile.

"Come to the Edge"

I'll be honest, I think I'm being a lot harsher on myself than I need to be. I feel so overwhelmed trying to keep up with everything, and when someone came up to me today and mentioned one more thing I'd been letting slip through my fingers, I felt so utterly awful about it that I ended up hiding in my room for most of the day. I resorted to reading in an attempt to stave off the encroaching feelings of self-directed anger and discouragement. While reading, I found this passage:

That inclination not to trust, that tendency not to have the faith we ought to have, undoubtedly robs us of some of God's greatest blessings. I am reminded of this little dialogue:
"Come to the edge," he said.
"No, we will fall."
"Come to the edge," he said.
"No, we will fall."
"Come to the edge," he said.
So we came to the edge, he pushed us -- and we flew. (Patricia Holland, A Quiet Heart -- you know, I swear she wrote that book just for me)

Now I don't know about you, but I've always found the metaphor of flight to be absolutely inspiring. Something about it stirs the depths of my soul like no other concept has ever done. And for reasons too complex to explain here, I have always preferred the imagery of a sparrow, rather than an eagle. Hence my choice of picture for this post. But that aside, I was moved by this little story, because it sums up my life exactly.

As Stephanie so gently reminded me tonight, the Lord will never ask us to do something that we can't handle. But that doesn't stop Him from taking us to the very edge of our abilities. He will take us to our limits, to the point where we are sure that we will fall (or fail). Where we cannot comprehend that we can possibly handle any more. And then He will take us just a bit further -- pushing us off the edge, if need be -- to force us to fly. But the beautiful thing is that we do fly. And by flying, we reach heights greater than that edge from which we started.

I am at that crucial moment in my life where the Lord stands at the edge and beckons, His eyes filled with love and reassurance, asking me to trust Him enough to come to the edge, where He will give me that gentle push because He knows, just as my family and all the wonderful people who build me up day after day when I fall down know, that my wings are there, and they are strong enough to grant me flight. I can't see those wings. They're behind me, just out of eyesight, but everyone else can see them.

I told Stephanie tonight that I wondered what had happened to that girl I used to be. The girl who could handle anything. With the beautiful simplicity that only Stephanie can supply, she replied, "She's still in there. She may have been trampled on by a herd of angry, pissed off elephants, but she's still there." My wings are there. Perhaps a bit battered and weatherbeaten, but I look inside myself and I know that they are still strong and able. 

Therefore, the question I must ask is not Will I fall? but rather, Do I trust Him? Do I trust that He knows whether or not my wings can bear me aloft? Do I believe that He would only beckon me to the very edge of my limits because He knows I can handle it?

My answer: I do.

Thank you to everyone who reminds me that I still have my wings, even when I seem to forget how to fly.

Beating up the Misanthrope

So, once upon a long time ago, Qait and I somehow concocted the idea (fed, of course, by substantial evidence. Haha. Joke.) that we had multiple personalities. 21 of them, to be precise. Now, I'm not actually schizophrenic. Schizophrenia is actually a lot more complicated than that, but that aside, it became a running joke that we each had 21 personalities. Depending on the day, one of those personalities was usually running the show, and we had various assignments for the others.

Currently Lynnae-the-Misanthrope is kind of running the show. She has been for the last few weeks. I apologize if you've felt the brunt of her distaste for people. I really do hate my current need to be alone, because I'm naturally a social person, and it really runs against the grain to be so reclusive, but unfortunately, I think that I need it. I hate it. But I can't turn it off. And I seem to have run out of the energy needed to pretend that I'm feeling something I'm not. So I've stopped trying to lie about it.

I do, however, attempt to change it. Which is why I went to Oscar's Night last night. Now, I won't lie, I really didn't want to go. I had a million excuses all lined up for exactly why I didn't have to go. I wasn't in my FHE group's movie. I had a buttload of homework and research to do. I was (and am) still getting over being sick. I was exhausted. I didn't feel like socializing. No one would really miss me all that much. (Granted, the last one is a totally lame and unacceptable excuse. It's total bull. I have lot of people who would miss me.) But somehow, I found myself showering and getting ready anyway.

And you know what?

I had a lot of fun. I broke down and let out all my pent-up energy and frustration by dancing like an idiot. Typically, I'd be worried about looking like a fool, but I honestly didn't care anymore. Plus side to feeling apathetic in social situations. :) And I definitely talked to people. Quite a bit. Eat that, Misanthropic-Lynnae.

I wish I could say that it was a permanent change. Sadly, I'm still perfectly content to be sitting at home alone today. Again, I think I just need it. I've spent the last year or so giving everything I had to everyone else. I don't say that I deserve a break from that, per se, but I really enjoy not having to answer to anyone else's schedule.

My only real concern about my current phase (because, let's be honest, this side of me can't last too long. I'm not a hermit by nature) is that I'll push away what I already have. I'm totally cool with not making new friends and not flirting with guys and all that stuff. I really don't have the brainpower or emotional stamina to deal with that right now. School, work, and church come first. I'm more afraid that my lack of desire to socialize will push away the people I already have in my life. Or that I'll miss out on something important. I don't want to miss out on someone who needs me. Or even someone who can teach me something valuable. I think that's part of the reason I'm so stressed right now. So I'm sorry. Don't mind me. I'll come out of it soon enough. I love you all.

THE GRATEFULS:
Stephanie. Girl, you will always be one of those bright rays of light in my life. Soul-sister, best friend, and roommate. I wouldn't trade you for the greatest boyfriend in the world. Even if I found Mr. Right, I'd still need you.

Savannah. Your quiet acceptance of me for who I am is something that I can never thank you for enough. You've seen my ups and downs and after three years, our friendship is still going strong.

My red dress. For the first time in a couple of weeks, I felt truly beautiful last night. It's all thanks to a gorgeous dress.

My personal study time. And I don't mean school-related study. I've been so tired and stressed recently that I've been reverting back to the bare-bones minimum of daily scripture study and prayer, but last night, even though I was worn out, I decided to take a little longer on my reading time, and, as always, I found exactly what I needed. It's like the Lord leaves little notes saying "I love you, Lynnae" between those pages, and all I have to do is read long enough to find them. I'm glad He doesn't give up on me, even when I wouldn't blame Him for it.

My father. Who always reminds me about what's most important in the eternal scheme of things. His faith and his example have never ceased to amaze me. I'm still waiting to find a man who measures up to that kind of devotion to the Savior and unconditional love for me, and when I do, I'm never letting him go. The older I get, the easier it is to see why my mom loves my dad so much. There's something indescribably precious about a man with faith like that. A man of faith is truly a priceless jewel, and I'm so grateful to my dad for teaching me what a man like that looks like.

Blegh

So I have this little condition, inherited from my father, of getting really bad sinus infections, often overnight. So I went to bed last night feeling all accomplished from my super-productive day, thinking about how I was going to do awesome things again today.

Haha. Joke.

I woke up this morning feeling like my head was filled with slime (I know, appetizing mental image, right?) and like my eyelids weighed a million pounds. Blegh. I got up, grabbed some medicine, and then curled up in bed again and I've pretty much been there all day, trying desperately to sleep it off.

Who am I kidding? Trying desperately? Because it's such a trial to have to sleep in my bed under my deliciously heavy blankets all day. Woe is me... ;)

The truth though? I cannot afford to get sick right now. I'm feeling more functional than I was this morning, clearly, but nighttime does funny things to my illnesses sometimes. So here's hoping that my body decides to be kind and get better fast. I have to get back to life. Pronto.

That doesn't mean that I don't have things to feel grateful for. So here's today's list:

• Heavy blankets. They're pretty much the best things ever. I love that snug, warm feeling.
• My Alvin and the Chipmunks music. Something about helium-voiced rodents rerendering all of my favorite pop songs just makes me smile, no matter how groggy I feel. 
• Frozen KitKat bars. They are the best. Period. If you haven't tried them like that, you haven't lived. Okay, so maybe you have. But they're my brand of sick-groggy-tired-person heaven. 
• The big fluffy snowflakes falling from the sky today, even if they didn't stick around. Also, the bigger, but not so fluffy snowflakes hanging from the ceiling in our front room. As much as I complain about starting Christmas before Thanksgiving is over, I really do love Christmas decorations, no matter when they go up.
• On that note, our lovely color-matched Christmas tree. It's purrty.
• Stephanie scared herself silly on the way home from campus, because she thought her shadow was an assailant. I wasn't there, but her walking in and telling me about it was almost as good. It gives a new and very real spin to being scared of your own shadow. ;)
• My stylish glasses. I can't wear contacts when my eyes are watering, so since I have to wear glasses, I'm just grateful that they're cute and kinda trendy. I don't feel ugly in them, and that's a great blessing when the rest of me is feeling icky and gross from being sick.
• As You Like It. The Kenneth Branagh version. It's weird, set in Japan, and filled with random sumo wrestlers and wacky cut scenes, but it's still Shakespeare, and that makes me happy. 
• And finally, that I got sick on a Tuesday, because of all the days of the week, Tuesdays are my lightest days and being confined to bed with a massive sinus infection for a whole day does less damage to my overall life if it happens on Tuesday. I miss out on fewer crucial things.

It Starts Today

So that whole thing about turning my attitude around and being positive about what I can do? Well, I figured there was no time like the present to start the new outlook. I decided to see how I did. I felt a bit guilty last night while talking to my dad, because I knew I had a paper due this morning that I'd half-intentionally put off. I could have kicked myself for procrastinating it, but that wouldn't change anything. (just like Dad said! You know, dads really are smart people. That's why I love mine so much.) So I did the only thing I could do: went straight to bed (with a sidestop in temple-prep-and-scripture-study-land), set my alarm for 5am, said a prayer for help waking up in the morning, and decided to get what sleep I could.

Despite my usual difficulties with waking up before 9, let alone 5, I was awake at the exact same time my alarm went off, and though I had to hit snooze and give my eyelids a chance to catch up with my brain, I was totally ready to write that paper. I've never had a paper come so smoothly and well-organized before, but that's how it rolled out of my fingertips this morning. Honestly, I'm actually legitimately pleased with how this one turned out.

And! Even though, through my earlier neglect, I did not have the book we were supposed cite in the paper, it turns out that Chris did, and he called me just as I was finishing up my paper so that I could go over and add the quotes in.

As simple and mundane as that story might be, to me, it was miraculous. The fact that everything went so smoothly and that I could get everything done, despite the setbacks the my earlier slacking had created just goes to show that the Lord is infinitely merciful, whether or not we deserve it. And I definitely did not deserve it this morning, but He chose to help me anyway. I am extremely grateful.

And since it's Thanksgiving, I'm going to dedicate a portion of every post to things I'm grateful for. Today the list includes:

• My "ventriloquist" pizza rolls, which sounded suspiciously like Aubry, reminding me to cook them and then eat them, each time the oven beeped. 
• Kristopher texting me a scripture reference last night, which was the exact scripture I needed to read again. His timing was perfect, as always.
• My little brother. For everything. I love him more than I love almost anyone else. 
• My coworkers. Especially Greg and his "Santa Stomach" episode last Friday, which still made us laugh this morning when we thought about it.
• Also, the series of "inspirational" emails that got passed back and forth among us in the office, which often contained things like, "Yaaaay..." and "Good job and all that stuff." All phrased in such a way that they were anything but expressive/inspirational.
• Aubry just got abnormally excited about our recent acquisition of rope. 
• The fact that when I walked out into the rainy morning and turned on my mp3 player, it was playing "Rain is a Good Thing." I couldn't agree more.
• Liz Knoche, for giving me a ride to school this morning, even though she didn't have to. 

That's all for today. More to come later on. 

Words of Wisdom

Brought to you by Chris Taney:

How are you supposed to light a fire in some girl's heart if you can't even light a candle??

So practice that candle-lighting, boys. Some girl will thank you for it some day.

Okay, so I totally mean that facetiously. (Although candlelit dinners are quite romantic.) It just came from a conversation Chris and I had this morning while finishing our papers because we'd watched Brendan try and fail several times to light the candle on the kitchen table. It made me laugh, so I thought I'd share it. Oh, and it might be  helpful to note that Chris said this to Brendan, not to me. I'm not attempting to light any fires in girls' hearts. Guys, on the other hand... ;)

Positivity

Gah. Another rough night. Although I really promise that it has nothing to do with dating or relationships (past or present). Not anymore. I appreciate the people who come up to me and ask how I'm doing since "the breakup." I know you never believe me when I say that I'm doing fine, but I am. I promise. Last night was all about school. See here's the thing, for a lot of reasons, I've slacked off on schoolwork and I'd been beating myself up about it.

My dad, awesome, spiritual, insightful man that he is, called me up to check on me and see how I was doing. All of the worries came pouring out (for good or bad, I can't lie to my father. Ever.) He listened patiently and then pretty much told me snap out of it. "It doesn't matter that you've gotten bad scores on some of your tests (but Dad...) It doesn't matter if you feel overwhelmed by everything you have to do (but Dad...) It doesn't matter that you're afraid it's too late to save your grades (but Dad...) Just suck it up, let go of all of that, and tell yourself you're going to do awesome things with the rest of your semester. No more buts. No more excuses."

Thanks, Dad. It's all about Mosiah 4:9:

Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things, both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend.

He can turn things around, even when it seems impossible. I've seen it in my life. I've seen in my family's lives.

So, to sum it all up: I can do this!

I took a Music 101 test last week that I should have failed. I studied for four hours, listened to the music samples over and over and OVER again, but when I sat down in the testing center, I swear they all sounded exactly the same to me. I just can't sense patterns in musical composition unless I'm looking at a score or I have something telling me exactly where it is. I guessed on every question. Not even kidding. But I walked out and saw that I'd scored a miraculous 92%. My first thought was "What the...?" but it occurred to me that this was one of those moments where you can see the Lord's tender mercies. He knew I'd tried. I studied so hard. I'd prayed for help, and I got it. Not in the way I'd expected, but it came anyway.

It'll happen again. Maybe not the same way, but even though I've made mistakes before now, I'm not going to be forced to fail as punishment. The Lord can take me as I am right now and turn my situation around into something miraculous, as long as I put in my share of the work. I don't know how this semester will end, or how I'll make it through next semester (trying to get enough hours at work with my schedule next semester... not a pretty picture) but I do know that He'll make it work for my good.

And if He loves me enough to do that for me, He's going to do the same for you, too. No matter what your situation is or what impossible thing you are trying to accomplish. If you fight for it, He's going to back you and help you succeed. So go for whatever impossible dream you have. Suddenly you'll find that nothing is impossible.

I Love Being an Aunt

So I'm back with my every-other-Saturday post about how much I adore Ender and Qait and Michael. See, it's becoming a kind of tradition to spend every other weekend at their place in north Orem. We stay up ridiculously late (although going to bed at 4 was actually significantly earlier than last time) talking and reverting back to our teenage days and then in the morning, when Ender's actually awake, we revert back to being adults (well, mostly) so that we can take care of him.

This Saturday was made extra special by the fact that Qait's sister Rae came up from St. George with her three kids and left them with us while she did a giant photoshoot in Springville. (I still think you're a trooper, Rae! Great job on handling the nerves. I thought you did it very gracefully.)

I'm still super mad that I forgot my camera again (I even thought about it before I left...) so still no pictures of Ender, but Rae is an awesome photographer and she posts tons of pictures of her cute kids on facebook, so I conveniently thieved this picture of Reed, Savvy (Savannah), and Jaxon from her profile.

 

Aren't they so stinkin' cute? 

I think I'm completely in love with them. Ender still has first dibs on my love, of course, but these three are big contenders. Especially Savvy. My arms ache from carrying her and Ender around the playground, giving them piggy-back rides, swinging on swings with them in my lap, and rescuing them when they got stuck on the monkey bars. It's that good kind of ache, though. The kind where I move my arms, feel the pull of tight muscles, and remember how much fun I had making those muscles sore.

The one downside about all this lovely family time with Qait and Co.? I have to go back to being a single girl at the end of the day. No more potty-training, getting food, snuggling on the couch with Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, or kissing owies better. I mean, I suppose I could do that with my roommates, but something tells me that they'd really object to most of those things. I really hope they'd object to all of them, but I can't guarantee that... ;) 

All in all, it was fun. And next time, I WILL remember to bring my camera so that I can take a recent picture of Ender.

Semi-Productive

Progress on homework: about a sentence of the reading done.

Status of bedroom: absolutely pristine

Nothing like homework to get my room clean.

Chick Flicks and Dialects :)

Okay, so I hardly ever post my homework on my blog, because that usually just seems silly to me. But I have to admit, I kind of had fun writing this. First, because I'm a little more snarky than I probably should be in a homework assignment, and second, because I'm writing about dialects, and that's just fun. Not promising that this will be a masterpiece of linguistic insight and argument. It's more just stream-of-consciousness rattling off of thoughts as I watched the movie, but that's exactly what the homework assignment required, so...

Enjoy!

Letters to Juliet is your standard, formulaic chick flick, as prone to fitting characters into stereotypes (both dialectal and appearance-based) as Disney movies are. This movie is a story of a female, American protagonist, Sophie, who goes with her fiancé Victor to visit Verona, Italy. While in Verona, she becomes involved in the 50-year-old love story of a well-to-do British woman who is searching (with her grandson, Charlie) for her long-lost first love. Despite his stuffy and often downright snobbish attitude, the British Charlie provides an obvious foil to the food-obsessed, rapid-fire-Italian-English-talking Victor who apparently doesn’t have much time for his fiancée. The three-way contrast of the Standard American English spoken by Sophie, the Standard British English spoken by Charlie, and the Italian American English spoken by Victor helps to illustrate the characters’ personalities according to the stereotypes associated with each variety.

                Sophie, a typical American, middle-class woman with a white collar job, speaks in Standard American English. Because the movie is marketed primarily toward American audiences, Sophie’s accent makes her instantly relatable, because she talks just like the rest of us. Her brisk, clipped American accent reflects her profession as a businesswoman and a journalist. At the same time, she uses many familiar slang expressions and exclamations (“That is awesome!” “Yeah,” “Are you for real?” etc.) that tie her back into the language associated with the younger generation. This makes her fit the standard “insert-yourself-here” formula for heroines in romantic comedies that allows young women to relate to her.

                 Tight-laced Brit, Charlie, waltzes onto the screen, dripping with disdain and apparently lacking any romantic inclinations in his entire body. Due to many American conceptions about British English speakers being stiff, methodical, unemotional, very intelligent, and occasionally elitist, his accent reinforces the way they want him to come across in the beginning. “He always insisted that love was nothing but hormones, but underneath, he has such a warm, passionate heart,” Charlie’s grandmother says of him at one point during the movie. The flip side of the associations with British English is that it is foreign, and carries with it some romanticism, especially as associated with Shakespeare and English poetry. Regency-era movies, frequently considered the crown jewels of romantic chick flicks, are almost exclusively cast in British English varieties. Letters to Juliet draws on this heritage of British English as a romantic variety as Charlie begins to fall for Sophie and takes his place as the true male lead in the movie.

                Victor, as a sharp contrast to the reserved but witty Charlie, is enthusiastic, emotive, and speaks rapidly in Italian English, often employing the Italian trend for repetition and hyperbole. Appropriately, he is a pasta chef looking to open his own restaurant in New York, and has come to Italy with Sophie to meet with potential suppliers. Caught up as he is by his driving passion for food (another trait commonly associated with Italy and Italians), he is often distracted from paying attention to Sophie, which makes him a less appropriate match for her than Charlie is. Although Italian is widely considered to be the language of love, this movie exploits the less romantic aspects of Italian English to portray Victor’s unsuitability as Sophie’s love interest. The more charming, lyrical Italian accents are relegated to the women Sophie meets, and to the Italian man Charlie’s grandmother had come searching for.

                Though the movie is not intentionally offering commentary on the various dialects it presents – such a subtext is a little deeper and more complex than most chick flicks choose to delve into – the use of the different varieties of English does speed up the audience’s ability to associate each character with their intended personality traits. For the purposes of a chick flick, this use of dialect as characterization is both effective and expected, much as it is with Disney movies.