Progress on homework: about a sentence of the reading done.
Status of bedroom: absolutely pristine
Nothing like homework to get my room clean.
28 October 2010
27 October 2010
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!
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.
Panic Attack
The classes I need in order to graduate (go figure: the ones that no one can hold for me) are currently gone. Curse my lack of credits. Dear professors, be kind and let me into your classes so that I don't actually fail at my life. Thanks.
...
Okay, so since I don't particularly feel like adding another post (and because I kinda like having Calvin on the bottom of the page...) I'm updating the current one. Sucks for all of you that have already read it, because you'll never know the difference. Good news for all of you that haven't seen this yet. You can breathe easy and know the results of my panic attack.
It was indeed a panic attack. I'm still a little shaken up and I feel a lot like curling up into a ball and hiding under the covers for the rest of my life. Honestly, I'm getting a little sick of life trying so hard to eat me. Every time I accomplish something and remove one problem/obstacle, about three more fall into the empty space. It's exhausting.
The good news: I talked to my professor and, despite how crummy a student I think I am, he still seems to have a good opinion of me, and he agreed to grant me the exception I needed in order to take my last two classes concurrently (they're supposed to be taken consecutively), and he's also going to use a little of his influence to make sure that the teacher of the other class I need lets me in. The bad news: He expects me to excel in spite of the possible setbacks, because he believes in me. As great as that is, and as inspiring as it should be, I'm a little worried about my ability to stand the extra pressure. Suddenly not only is failure on the cards, but I might disappoint my mentor, the man best placed to help me shape my future after graduation.
So... no pressure.
Oh, and I apparently need to be writing and submitting pieces to every magazine/journal I can think of in an effort to bulk up my portfolio. On top of preliminary job-hunting, writing papers for school, surviving tests, trying to keep up in homework (which is probably the funniest unfunny joke in the history of ironic jokes -- being caught up on homework, HA!), preparing lessons for my Sunday School class, keeping up with personal study time, helping friends out with their editing needs, squeezing in enough work hours to keep me from starving/being kicked out of my apartment (forget paying tuition. It's a good thing I have loans, because that's not happening), and yeah.
Good thing I have no social life. I'm pretty sure I'm chucking that out the door right now. Current friends have some claim still, but forget trying to date. I can't handle that pressure right now. On the flip side, I've never been so glad that I'm single. If I had a boyfriend, I'd be failing at the rest of my life for sure.
Hm...
Apologies for the tone of the entry. I just have crappy days every now and then. To sum it all up, I pretty much only have peace of mind during those quiet moments at night that I've set aside for personal study and prayer. I'm glad I have them, because it's the only time I don't feel guilty for not working harder. It's the only time of day that it's okay for me to sit back and relax. Unfortunately, that's only about 30 minutes out of my entire day. So if I look haggard/on the verge of tears, just understand that I'm in the longest endurance race of my life right now. And if I forget things or drop the ball on you, you have to know that I don't mean it personally. Just so you know.
...
Okay, so since I don't particularly feel like adding another post (and because I kinda like having Calvin on the bottom of the page...) I'm updating the current one. Sucks for all of you that have already read it, because you'll never know the difference. Good news for all of you that haven't seen this yet. You can breathe easy and know the results of my panic attack.
It was indeed a panic attack. I'm still a little shaken up and I feel a lot like curling up into a ball and hiding under the covers for the rest of my life. Honestly, I'm getting a little sick of life trying so hard to eat me. Every time I accomplish something and remove one problem/obstacle, about three more fall into the empty space. It's exhausting.
The good news: I talked to my professor and, despite how crummy a student I think I am, he still seems to have a good opinion of me, and he agreed to grant me the exception I needed in order to take my last two classes concurrently (they're supposed to be taken consecutively), and he's also going to use a little of his influence to make sure that the teacher of the other class I need lets me in. The bad news: He expects me to excel in spite of the possible setbacks, because he believes in me. As great as that is, and as inspiring as it should be, I'm a little worried about my ability to stand the extra pressure. Suddenly not only is failure on the cards, but I might disappoint my mentor, the man best placed to help me shape my future after graduation.
So... no pressure.
Oh, and I apparently need to be writing and submitting pieces to every magazine/journal I can think of in an effort to bulk up my portfolio. On top of preliminary job-hunting, writing papers for school, surviving tests, trying to keep up in homework (which is probably the funniest unfunny joke in the history of ironic jokes -- being caught up on homework, HA!), preparing lessons for my Sunday School class, keeping up with personal study time, helping friends out with their editing needs, squeezing in enough work hours to keep me from starving/being kicked out of my apartment (forget paying tuition. It's a good thing I have loans, because that's not happening), and yeah.
Good thing I have no social life. I'm pretty sure I'm chucking that out the door right now. Current friends have some claim still, but forget trying to date. I can't handle that pressure right now. On the flip side, I've never been so glad that I'm single. If I had a boyfriend, I'd be failing at the rest of my life for sure.
Hm...
Apologies for the tone of the entry. I just have crappy days every now and then. To sum it all up, I pretty much only have peace of mind during those quiet moments at night that I've set aside for personal study and prayer. I'm glad I have them, because it's the only time I don't feel guilty for not working harder. It's the only time of day that it's okay for me to sit back and relax. Unfortunately, that's only about 30 minutes out of my entire day. So if I look haggard/on the verge of tears, just understand that I'm in the longest endurance race of my life right now. And if I forget things or drop the ball on you, you have to know that I don't mean it personally. Just so you know.
26 October 2010
SNOW!
I'm just going to cheerfully ignore the collective groans heard all around campus right now and insert a giant happy face here. I kind of feel like this in regards to everyone else:
But guys! It's SNOW! There's just something about it that warms my heart (ironic as that is, seeing as it's frozen stuff falling out of the sky...).
Besides, there's so much fun to be had in the snow. Stephanie currently hates the snow, but she's the Golden Investigator of Snow Loving, because she told me today that she wants me to help her learn to appreciate and love the snow. So, my dear Stephanie, here is a list of all the wonderful things about snow:
Snowball fights (just have 'em in Orem, where they're not illegal)
Sledding
Snow on trees = pretty much the prettiest thing ever
Snow angels
Catching snowflakes on your tongue
Making steaming mugs of cocoa when you're done playing in snow
Hearing that delightful crunch of snow under your boots
Building snowmen
Creating snow forts where you can cuddle up inside with someone and it actually gets fairly toasty
Dancing in snow is like dancing in the rain, which we both love to do, except with snow, you actually get less wet
There are few things lovelier than the sparkles of snowflakes in your hair
That cold nips at your nose and sends a warm rush of blood to your face, which reminds you how very alive you are
Being tackled into the snow is significantly less painful than being tackled into solid ground (beware: I may or may not be inclined to do this to you at least once during the winter)
The world seems like a quieter, more peaceful place with that blanket of snow on the ground
There are few things in this world more dazzling than freshly fallen snow
And the best thing: sitting cuddled up in a blanket with a mug of cocoa and a book by a window looking out on a winter wonderland. There's just something perfect about that, especially when you have someone to share it with.
Keep in mind, those are only a few of the things I love about snow. And yes, the snow is early this year, and a part of me bemoans the whole getting-less-sleep-because-I-have-to-walk thing. (I guess I could ride my bike but I have two words for you: skunk stripe. It's miserable to sit in class with a wet, slushy stripe up the back of your pants. Granted, this problem would be solved by installing a fender on my bike, but I'm one gifted-handyman short at the moment.) But in the long run, I will always have a soft spot for snow. :)
But guys! It's SNOW! There's just something about it that warms my heart (ironic as that is, seeing as it's frozen stuff falling out of the sky...).
Besides, there's so much fun to be had in the snow. Stephanie currently hates the snow, but she's the Golden Investigator of Snow Loving, because she told me today that she wants me to help her learn to appreciate and love the snow. So, my dear Stephanie, here is a list of all the wonderful things about snow:
Snowball fights (just have 'em in Orem, where they're not illegal)
Sledding
Snow on trees = pretty much the prettiest thing ever
Snow angels
Catching snowflakes on your tongue
Making steaming mugs of cocoa when you're done playing in snow
Hearing that delightful crunch of snow under your boots
Building snowmen
Creating snow forts where you can cuddle up inside with someone and it actually gets fairly toasty
Dancing in snow is like dancing in the rain, which we both love to do, except with snow, you actually get less wet
There are few things lovelier than the sparkles of snowflakes in your hair
That cold nips at your nose and sends a warm rush of blood to your face, which reminds you how very alive you are
Being tackled into the snow is significantly less painful than being tackled into solid ground (beware: I may or may not be inclined to do this to you at least once during the winter)
The world seems like a quieter, more peaceful place with that blanket of snow on the ground
There are few things in this world more dazzling than freshly fallen snow
And the best thing: sitting cuddled up in a blanket with a mug of cocoa and a book by a window looking out on a winter wonderland. There's just something perfect about that, especially when you have someone to share it with.
Keep in mind, those are only a few of the things I love about snow. And yes, the snow is early this year, and a part of me bemoans the whole getting-less-sleep-because-I-have-to-walk thing. (I guess I could ride my bike but I have two words for you: skunk stripe. It's miserable to sit in class with a wet, slushy stripe up the back of your pants. Granted, this problem would be solved by installing a fender on my bike, but I'm one gifted-handyman short at the moment.) But in the long run, I will always have a soft spot for snow. :)
[I didn't take this. I wish I had. Thank you Google Search for the lovely image. And thank you to the unnamed artist who took this picture.]
25 October 2010
Life and Other Matters
So registration for classes is this week. I know. You're like, "What?" Or maybe everyone else is more on top of things than I am. That's not entirely improbable, since I seem to be in a mad race to keep one foot ahead of the giant monster that is Fear of Failure. It keeps trying its best to overwhelm me, and sometimes it gets a nip on my heels, but I'm holding my own. If this were a race, I think I'd be a champion endurance sprinter at this point. (Running reference in honor of Kristopher -- this is the only race you'll ever see me run, so treasure it.)
Now here's the thing about being a senior: most of your classes only have one section. The Good News: none of my classes conflict with each other. The Bad News: they fill up really fast. Registration started today, but I don't get to register until Wednesday night, thanks to the fact that I'm going to graduate by the skin of my teeth as far as credits are concerned. None of this super-duper-senior-with-loads-of-credits stuff for me. So I'm sitting here, staring at the course catalog, watching the available seats in the classes I need getting nibbled off a little at a time. It's enough to cause a panic attack, which I definitely almost had this morning.
Enter Melissa. She's an old roommate and a great friend. We bonded over Divine Comedy, Robin Hood, and boys being stupid. Even though we no longer live in the same complex, we've stayed in touch, and thanks to a long lunchtime conversation a few weeks back, I happened to find out that she's a grad student now. So, with frantic pleas for help, I emailed her and asked her to hold some of the classes that are looking like they're filling up too quickly. She wrote back a short while after that saying that the classes were held, and she'd be ready to drop them so that I could add them. Hero of the Day award goes to Melissa for saving my (academic) life. I'm planning a girl's night to repay her for being a great friend.
Now I just have to convince my professor to grant me special permission to take my capstone class a little earlier than planned so that I can take it from him, and pray that the classes that Melissa couldn't hold (namely the editing classes, since they require departmental approval) don't fill up before I can sign up for them.
But hey, on the bright side, I've got Creative Writing with Brandon Sanderson. Yes, this Brandon Sanderson. Be jealous.
Now here's the thing about being a senior: most of your classes only have one section. The Good News: none of my classes conflict with each other. The Bad News: they fill up really fast. Registration started today, but I don't get to register until Wednesday night, thanks to the fact that I'm going to graduate by the skin of my teeth as far as credits are concerned. None of this super-duper-senior-with-loads-of-credits stuff for me. So I'm sitting here, staring at the course catalog, watching the available seats in the classes I need getting nibbled off a little at a time. It's enough to cause a panic attack, which I definitely almost had this morning.
Enter Melissa. She's an old roommate and a great friend. We bonded over Divine Comedy, Robin Hood, and boys being stupid. Even though we no longer live in the same complex, we've stayed in touch, and thanks to a long lunchtime conversation a few weeks back, I happened to find out that she's a grad student now. So, with frantic pleas for help, I emailed her and asked her to hold some of the classes that are looking like they're filling up too quickly. She wrote back a short while after that saying that the classes were held, and she'd be ready to drop them so that I could add them. Hero of the Day award goes to Melissa for saving my (academic) life. I'm planning a girl's night to repay her for being a great friend.
Now I just have to convince my professor to grant me special permission to take my capstone class a little earlier than planned so that I can take it from him, and pray that the classes that Melissa couldn't hold (namely the editing classes, since they require departmental approval) don't fill up before I can sign up for them.
But hey, on the bright side, I've got Creative Writing with Brandon Sanderson. Yes, this Brandon Sanderson. Be jealous.
24 October 2010
Speaking Of...
Speaking of the joys of children, I had this thought while scrubbing up Ender's mess in the bathroom, even though he's not quite old enough to do this yet.
Love you, Ender. :) Hope you continue to bring your mom and dad plenty of joy.
23 October 2010
Practice Runs
I have a penchant for meta-writing, I've noticed. I've rewritten the start of this entry three or four times in my head already, scrapping most of them because they were commentaries on my writing. And this one is too. Meta-writing-avoidance fail.
So....
This weekend was great. Thanks for asking.
No really, though, I spent the night at Qait's, although I probably should point out that no sleeping actually occurred during nighttime hours. We have this bizarre ability to play off each other's energy to stay awake, and since neither of us seem capable of crashing at the same time, things just kept going until we went to bed out of sheer disgust at how horrendously late it was. Poor Michael. It's a miracle he doesn't hate me for keeping his wife up so late every time I come over. Granted, he's usually up with us, doing homework (this time it meant sharing various sordid and creepy details from the lives of the Russian aristocracy off and on throughout the night -- let's just say I'm glad Rasputin is dead and that he's staying that way).
Honestly, I don't regret a minute of it though, and I sincerely hope Qait doesn't either. She's always exactly the kind of antidote I need to get me through my not-so-happy days.
PIZZA ROLLS! My dinner's done! (sorry, stream-of-consciousness writing again... and meta-writing again, too. *sigh*) I'm choosing to ignore the possible discussion on the suitability of pizza rolls as a dinner. Despite my aspirations to be more refined, I often fail in favor of decreasing the wait for food getting in me.
The barely-three-hours-of-sleep-even-though-I-needed-more was worth it too, especially when I woke up to Ender bouncing around the kitchen offering all kinds of commentary on Mommy's activities and then squealing "He wake! He wake!" when he saw me sit up on the couch. Just for clarification's sake, Ender hasn't quite mastered that oh so elusive distinction between masculine and feminine pronouns yet. He knows perfectly well that I'm a girl. He just can't get the hes and shes straight. It's rather charming, really.
Ender also obligingly gave me a taste of one of the adventures of motherhood: potty training. Qait and Michael have been working with him for a week or so now, so he's got the basic idea down. The execution's a little more elusive (+10 awesomeness points if you can name the movie I just referenced). Qait ran Michael to work, so I stayed home with Ender and we turned on a movie. Within minutes, he was dancing and prancing like nobody's business, and despite the adorableness of his impromptu dance performance, years of older-sister-ness kicked in to warn me that I was witnessing the classic potty-dance. So I coaxed him into the bathroom to sit on his little chair, and surprisingly, he obeyed. Fancy that. I'm an authority figure with little kids now. Or maybe he just likes me because I'm a lot like Mom. He still managed to make a mess, but a smaller one than it would have been otherwise, and I had him all cleaned up and the bathroom all tidied by the time Qait got back.
Practice run in potty training: check.
On the flip side of all the warm fuzzies of potty training (haha. sarcasm), I also experienced that heart-stopping swoop of terror when we turned around in the music store and he wasn't immediately in sight. I'm sure it's much worse when you're a mother, but it was enough.
Practice run in mother-radar: check.
You know, I really wish I had a recent picture of him to show off. Seeing as he currently has no competition for my affections, I feel inclined to want people to ooh and aah over him. Heck, I do. He melted my heart when he told me he loved me at the end of the day on Saturday. And that was after insisting on holding my hand, wrapping his arms around my legs while we waited for Qait to pull the car around at the store, and snuggling up with me while we watched a movie.
Practice run in all the sweet, tender moments of motherhood: check.
I love my adoptive nephew. Clearly. :) There are few things as healing to the body and mind as the love of a child. Even with the bad/hard/frustrating stuff thrown in, I honestly can't imagine anything being more rewarding than raising children. And that's coming from my limited experience with my best friend's son.
So....
This weekend was great. Thanks for asking.
No really, though, I spent the night at Qait's, although I probably should point out that no sleeping actually occurred during nighttime hours. We have this bizarre ability to play off each other's energy to stay awake, and since neither of us seem capable of crashing at the same time, things just kept going until we went to bed out of sheer disgust at how horrendously late it was. Poor Michael. It's a miracle he doesn't hate me for keeping his wife up so late every time I come over. Granted, he's usually up with us, doing homework (this time it meant sharing various sordid and creepy details from the lives of the Russian aristocracy off and on throughout the night -- let's just say I'm glad Rasputin is dead and that he's staying that way).
Honestly, I don't regret a minute of it though, and I sincerely hope Qait doesn't either. She's always exactly the kind of antidote I need to get me through my not-so-happy days.
PIZZA ROLLS! My dinner's done! (sorry, stream-of-consciousness writing again... and meta-writing again, too. *sigh*) I'm choosing to ignore the possible discussion on the suitability of pizza rolls as a dinner. Despite my aspirations to be more refined, I often fail in favor of decreasing the wait for food getting in me.
The barely-three-hours-of-sleep-even-though-I-needed-more was worth it too, especially when I woke up to Ender bouncing around the kitchen offering all kinds of commentary on Mommy's activities and then squealing "He wake! He wake!" when he saw me sit up on the couch. Just for clarification's sake, Ender hasn't quite mastered that oh so elusive distinction between masculine and feminine pronouns yet. He knows perfectly well that I'm a girl. He just can't get the hes and shes straight. It's rather charming, really.
Ender also obligingly gave me a taste of one of the adventures of motherhood: potty training. Qait and Michael have been working with him for a week or so now, so he's got the basic idea down. The execution's a little more elusive (+10 awesomeness points if you can name the movie I just referenced). Qait ran Michael to work, so I stayed home with Ender and we turned on a movie. Within minutes, he was dancing and prancing like nobody's business, and despite the adorableness of his impromptu dance performance, years of older-sister-ness kicked in to warn me that I was witnessing the classic potty-dance. So I coaxed him into the bathroom to sit on his little chair, and surprisingly, he obeyed. Fancy that. I'm an authority figure with little kids now. Or maybe he just likes me because I'm a lot like Mom. He still managed to make a mess, but a smaller one than it would have been otherwise, and I had him all cleaned up and the bathroom all tidied by the time Qait got back.
Practice run in potty training: check.
On the flip side of all the warm fuzzies of potty training (haha. sarcasm), I also experienced that heart-stopping swoop of terror when we turned around in the music store and he wasn't immediately in sight. I'm sure it's much worse when you're a mother, but it was enough.
Practice run in mother-radar: check.
You know, I really wish I had a recent picture of him to show off. Seeing as he currently has no competition for my affections, I feel inclined to want people to ooh and aah over him. Heck, I do. He melted my heart when he told me he loved me at the end of the day on Saturday. And that was after insisting on holding my hand, wrapping his arms around my legs while we waited for Qait to pull the car around at the store, and snuggling up with me while we watched a movie.
Practice run in all the sweet, tender moments of motherhood: check.
I love my adoptive nephew. Clearly. :) There are few things as healing to the body and mind as the love of a child. Even with the bad/hard/frustrating stuff thrown in, I honestly can't imagine anything being more rewarding than raising children. And that's coming from my limited experience with my best friend's son.
20 October 2010
Daily Deeds of Goodness
A guy on crutches approaches the doors of the JKB and pulls it open, attempting to catch it on his good foot and sidle through, but he misses. I jump forward and snag the handle before the door actually hits him and pull it all the way open so that he can enter. Another guy had attempted to do the same thing, but I beat him to it, so he moved past me to grab the second door (you know, it never occurred to me that all those double doors that are so great for temperature control must be the bane of existence for anyone in less than standard physical condition). “Good job,” the guy says as I pass him through the door he’s holding for me, “there was your good deed for the day.”
I might point out that he was fairly attractive, so it got the warm fuzzies going at a pretty decent rate, but the comment still struck me as odd. I almost never think of accomplishing a good deed every day. Not that I think I don’t do something nice for at least one person everyday; I just never bother to keep a tally. I do, however, keep a tally of the nice things other people do for me. And today, even though it’s still fairly early, I’ve had a lot of people do good deeds for me.
As days go, this one did not start out well. I spent a big chunk of yesterday preparing for the two presentations (yeah… two. Stupid conflicting class schedules…) I had today, then I spent a little bit of time pleasure reading to allow my brain to take a break without going kaput (you know how, when you overexert yourself, you’re not supposed to just sit down, because it’s bad for you? Yeah, same idea behind the reading. It’s a mental cool-down lap around the track – works for me anyway) and went to bed. Still too late, I might add. I’m expecting my body to give out on me any minute now. I desperately need more sleep.
Now, I have a class at 9. I had a presentation in that class. I woke up at 9:10. Cue start of horrible day right there.
Enter Good Deed #1. Savannah was up studying and thankfully, she hadn’t needed to babysit her niece this morning. When I stumbled out of my room all frantic, bleary-eyed, messy-haired, and muttering every non-swear-word expletive I could think of (under my breath, of course -- what came out was more along the lines of "IneedarideIhaveapresentationgoingonRIGHTNOW! *insert undertones of panic here*) she snapped into action and consented to drive me to school. Dropping everything to go get the car started while I dressed and snatched up what I could remember needing, she was ready to get me to school as fast as possible and managed to add in some talking to soothe my nerves. She’s such a saint. She even endured a crabby biker-cop who tried to tell both of us off for going too fast in the parking lot (um… define “too fast.” There were no other cars, there’s no posted speed limit, and she probably didn’t even break 10mph).
I may or may not deserve to get in trouble for running away from a cop, but as soon as he turned his attention to Savannah, I dashed off through the doors of the building, hoping desperately that I wasn’t about to tumble into the room in the middle of my group’s presentation. My sincerest apologies to Savannah for leaving her to deal with Mr. GrumpyPants alone. And can I say that I’m super glad people don’t come with license plates? He can’t hope to ever identify me again. Especially since wild-eyed-and-frazzled isn’t my normal look.
Good Deed #2. Luckily my professor was showing a video clip, so I slipped as unobtrusively into class (hearing an audible sigh of relief from my group-mates) as I could, and sat down to work out some kinks in the presentation that waking up late had caused. Since obviously I couldn’t print off a copy of the quiz I was going to distribute, I had to incorporate it into the presentation instead. Anyway, my phone buzzed, and Savannah sent me a text asking me if I wanted her to bring my makeup or anything else to finish getting ready. I told her where to find the necessary items and there she was, waiting cheerfully for me outside my class with the items and a hug. Thanks, Savannah. You’re a lifesaver. (Confession, I’m actually still sans-makeup because I haven’t had the time to put any on, so don’t look too closely at me if you see me today.)
Good Deed #3. I called my mom to vent, because I was still stressed after my first presentation and needed someone to talk me out of my impending panic attack. She obliged, and, like her usual awesome self, she not only calmed me down and reassured me that she didn’t think I was a failure, but actually distracted me into talking about things that are infinitely more relaxing to think about. Like the temple. I pretty much forgot about freaking out when we started talking about that. Go mom.
Good Deed #4. My second presentation went significantly better than the first (for one thing, I’m almost always far more knowledgeable about editing and publishing than I am about Shakespeare’s rhetorical conventions), and the remainder of that class was made better by Chris giving me a brown paper bag with a lunch in it. He said he’d made two, not realizing at the time that I’d arrive in class without having had the time to get something to eat. He wanted to do something to make my day better, so that was the best way he could think of. I actually have money on my ID card, and could have gotten a lunch myself, but it was the thought that really made the difference. And it is nice to have the money for something else now. So thanks to Chris, too.
So yeah. Remember what I said about friends? They’re pretty awesome. I’d fail at life completely if I didn’t have them around.
I might point out that he was fairly attractive, so it got the warm fuzzies going at a pretty decent rate, but the comment still struck me as odd. I almost never think of accomplishing a good deed every day. Not that I think I don’t do something nice for at least one person everyday; I just never bother to keep a tally. I do, however, keep a tally of the nice things other people do for me. And today, even though it’s still fairly early, I’ve had a lot of people do good deeds for me.
As days go, this one did not start out well. I spent a big chunk of yesterday preparing for the two presentations (yeah… two. Stupid conflicting class schedules…) I had today, then I spent a little bit of time pleasure reading to allow my brain to take a break without going kaput (you know how, when you overexert yourself, you’re not supposed to just sit down, because it’s bad for you? Yeah, same idea behind the reading. It’s a mental cool-down lap around the track – works for me anyway) and went to bed. Still too late, I might add. I’m expecting my body to give out on me any minute now. I desperately need more sleep.
Now, I have a class at 9. I had a presentation in that class. I woke up at 9:10. Cue start of horrible day right there.
Enter Good Deed #1. Savannah was up studying and thankfully, she hadn’t needed to babysit her niece this morning. When I stumbled out of my room all frantic, bleary-eyed, messy-haired, and muttering every non-swear-word expletive I could think of (under my breath, of course -- what came out was more along the lines of "IneedarideIhaveapresentationgoingonRIGHTNOW! *insert undertones of panic here*) she snapped into action and consented to drive me to school. Dropping everything to go get the car started while I dressed and snatched up what I could remember needing, she was ready to get me to school as fast as possible and managed to add in some talking to soothe my nerves. She’s such a saint. She even endured a crabby biker-cop who tried to tell both of us off for going too fast in the parking lot (um… define “too fast.” There were no other cars, there’s no posted speed limit, and she probably didn’t even break 10mph).
I may or may not deserve to get in trouble for running away from a cop, but as soon as he turned his attention to Savannah, I dashed off through the doors of the building, hoping desperately that I wasn’t about to tumble into the room in the middle of my group’s presentation. My sincerest apologies to Savannah for leaving her to deal with Mr. GrumpyPants alone. And can I say that I’m super glad people don’t come with license plates? He can’t hope to ever identify me again. Especially since wild-eyed-and-frazzled isn’t my normal look.
Good Deed #2. Luckily my professor was showing a video clip, so I slipped as unobtrusively into class (hearing an audible sigh of relief from my group-mates) as I could, and sat down to work out some kinks in the presentation that waking up late had caused. Since obviously I couldn’t print off a copy of the quiz I was going to distribute, I had to incorporate it into the presentation instead. Anyway, my phone buzzed, and Savannah sent me a text asking me if I wanted her to bring my makeup or anything else to finish getting ready. I told her where to find the necessary items and there she was, waiting cheerfully for me outside my class with the items and a hug. Thanks, Savannah. You’re a lifesaver. (Confession, I’m actually still sans-makeup because I haven’t had the time to put any on, so don’t look too closely at me if you see me today.)
Good Deed #3. I called my mom to vent, because I was still stressed after my first presentation and needed someone to talk me out of my impending panic attack. She obliged, and, like her usual awesome self, she not only calmed me down and reassured me that she didn’t think I was a failure, but actually distracted me into talking about things that are infinitely more relaxing to think about. Like the temple. I pretty much forgot about freaking out when we started talking about that. Go mom.
Good Deed #4. My second presentation went significantly better than the first (for one thing, I’m almost always far more knowledgeable about editing and publishing than I am about Shakespeare’s rhetorical conventions), and the remainder of that class was made better by Chris giving me a brown paper bag with a lunch in it. He said he’d made two, not realizing at the time that I’d arrive in class without having had the time to get something to eat. He wanted to do something to make my day better, so that was the best way he could think of. I actually have money on my ID card, and could have gotten a lunch myself, but it was the thought that really made the difference. And it is nice to have the money for something else now. So thanks to Chris, too.
So yeah. Remember what I said about friends? They’re pretty awesome. I’d fail at life completely if I didn’t have them around.
19 October 2010
Survival Requires Friends
Friends are angels who lift our feet when our own wings have trouble remembering how to fly
And holy fudgemuffins do I have some awesome friends. I pretty much fell apart last night. School, work, life. It all came crashing down.
One particular friend staged an all-out rescue mission and came running the second he knew something was wrong. Then it was highly effective triage, starting with the most urgent need: ice cream. After that, we took a long slow drive up to the temple and sat in his truck and talked for a couple of hours. It's not very often that I have long conversations that manage to pull me completely out of bad moods, but talking to this most awesome of friends made me remember why I love my life. I can never thank him enough for it. It felt so good to be understood.
I came home to an excellent email from my mother, who pretty much knows the perfect things to say to help me out when things get rough.
I had a long heart to heart with Savannah and a snuggle session with Stephanie (who has this magic ability to play with my hair in just such a way that it completely relaxes me every time). So by the time apartment prayer rolled around, not only was I put back together, but I was downright grateful for pretty much everything I could think of, and I was happy again.
Granted, I still had the stress of needing to finish a take-home midterm, plus preparing for two presentations (all for different classes), but it was manageable. Note to self in the future: avoid emotional breakdowns that take several hours to recover from when you have a ton of important projects to do. It's awfully inconvenient.
But that aside, I am really grateful for my army of friends. The Lord has filled my life with people I can trust to be there for me when I need them. I'm always surprised as how perfect some people are to help us solve our problems. Their life experiences have equipped them to help me through mine, and hopefully all of us are gaining experiences together that will help other people down the road. I just can't believe that there are so many people out there who love me, care about me, and try their hardest to fix me up when I'm feeling broken down. No matter how alone I feel, there's always at least one of them who can help.
We can't survive this life without friends. I know I can't. I lack the strength it takes to forge a path alone. Luckily, with friends, we can trade off on who's blazing the trail and who's carrying the heaviest backpack and who's keeping an eye out for danger and who's lighting the fire to keep us warm and heat our food.
And not to brag or anything, but I'm pretty sure I've got the best batch of friends in the world. I'd do anything for any one of them, and I know they'd do the same for me.
Alive?
I is alive! Well... sorta.
My brain may have devolved into seeking this kind of entertainment, though. I can't promise I'll be very functional today, but that midterm is done, so I'm moving in the right direction. Now to survive the TWO presentations due tomorrow morning, and I'll be able to relax again.
18 October 2010
Diving In
Hi! Lynnae's sneaky, non-school-absorbed secretary here! Lynnae wishes to inform you that she has a ton of good material for blog posts, thanks to a very eventful couple of days. Unfortunately, I also have a note from Lynnae that will explain her lack of posting said material:
Dear Homework,
I know we've had a very tenuous relationship this semester. You probably feel a little resentful that I haven't devoted as much time to you and I probably should to maintain a healthy relationship. I apologize most profusely. With that in mind, please please PLEASE don't chew me up and spit me out tonight as I attempt to spend all evening with you. I promise to even cut into my prearranged date with Sleep to spend more time with you. Let's keep this relationship afloat, shall we?
Kindest regards,
Lynnae
(It's me, the secretary, again!) Wish Lynnae the best of luck. She should return sometime soon to share her thoughts with you.
Dear Homework,
I know we've had a very tenuous relationship this semester. You probably feel a little resentful that I haven't devoted as much time to you and I probably should to maintain a healthy relationship. I apologize most profusely. With that in mind, please please PLEASE don't chew me up and spit me out tonight as I attempt to spend all evening with you. I promise to even cut into my prearranged date with Sleep to spend more time with you. Let's keep this relationship afloat, shall we?
Kindest regards,
Lynnae
(It's me, the secretary, again!) Wish Lynnae the best of luck. She should return sometime soon to share her thoughts with you.
16 October 2010
Happy Birthday, Hyrum!
It's my baby brother's birthday today. He's 12 now. Which, for those of you who remember him as this chunky little troublemaking toddler, is probably as disconcerting to think about as it is for me. I have fond memories of him roaming around us during family prayer, bumping into us, knocking us in the back with plastic hammers, and trailing around little silky girls clothes. Perhaps I should not share some of these things with the cyberworld. He might not appreciate it. But it'll be a story told at his wedding and to his children someday, so he might as well get used to it. He used to carry around this pink, silky, girls dress that we used on one of our dolls. I think he liked the feel of it. Anyway, we noticed that he was pretty much glued to this little dress, so my mom thought it would be funny to put it on him and see what he did.
It was a struggle to get it out of his hands long enough to get him into it, but we succeeded. And I have to say, I'm quite proud of my little brother. As soon as it was on him, he looked down at it with an expression of deep disgust (well, as deeply disgusted as a toddler can ever be) and started picking at it and squirming desperately to get out of it. Because it was a dress. He might have liked touching it, but that didn't mean he wanted to wear it. My mom beamed at her little man. We've never doubted his boy-ness since.
Brian, on the other hand... ;-) (laugh if you want, but I have a very authentic picture of Brian, two years old, wearing a pair of plastic high heels... I'm saving it for blackmail purposes. I'm sure his wife and I will have some fun together in years to come)
Anyway, so Hyrum's getting the priesthood this week. It's a little sobering to realize how old my baby brother is getting. He's turning into a young man, and I'm a little sad that I have to miss it because I'm already gone. I like being a part of my siblings' growth and progression to maturity, but the simple fact is that we grow best when we have room to grow. Brian changed a lot when he wasn't in the shadow of his older sister, and Jessa is really starting to reach her stride now that both of her older siblings are gone. Hyrum's doing the same. I can't wait to see what happens as we all grow up.
It was a struggle to get it out of his hands long enough to get him into it, but we succeeded. And I have to say, I'm quite proud of my little brother. As soon as it was on him, he looked down at it with an expression of deep disgust (well, as deeply disgusted as a toddler can ever be) and started picking at it and squirming desperately to get out of it. Because it was a dress. He might have liked touching it, but that didn't mean he wanted to wear it. My mom beamed at her little man. We've never doubted his boy-ness since.
Brian, on the other hand... ;-) (laugh if you want, but I have a very authentic picture of Brian, two years old, wearing a pair of plastic high heels... I'm saving it for blackmail purposes. I'm sure his wife and I will have some fun together in years to come)
Anyway, so Hyrum's getting the priesthood this week. It's a little sobering to realize how old my baby brother is getting. He's turning into a young man, and I'm a little sad that I have to miss it because I'm already gone. I like being a part of my siblings' growth and progression to maturity, but the simple fact is that we grow best when we have room to grow. Brian changed a lot when he wasn't in the shadow of his older sister, and Jessa is really starting to reach her stride now that both of her older siblings are gone. Hyrum's doing the same. I can't wait to see what happens as we all grow up.
Sparkly Green Nail Polish
I really love that Stephanie has awesome nail polish. On a whim, I painted my nails this crazy sparkly green color last night, and it just makes me smile when I see it. I wanted it to match my outfit last night, since I was having a icky day yesterday and felt the need to look very coordinated and "together" to make up for it.
Another small joy: I'm watching Lord of the Rings right now. The Two Towers, to be precise. And I can't pretend that I don't love it. Because I do. It brings back memories of my mostly-in-the-past geekdom. I never did learn elvish, but I knew those books inside and out. And I just recently bought a biography of J. R. R. Tolkien, one that I'd read once upon a long time ago. It was my favorite one. And yes, we'll just simply overlook the fact that I've read enough biographies of Tolkien to actually have a favorite.
Speaking of cars...
Oh right, no cars mentioned. Yet. Now there are. (I'm meta-writing, if you haven't noticed)
So speaking of cars,
Did you know that my roommate Stephanie can fit through the sunroof of a car? We tried that last night. (Random aside, did you ever wonder how on earth Gollum learned so much about the Last Battle of Men, Elves, and Orcs? He seems to know an eerie amount for a guy who's been living in a hole in the ground for the last 500 years...) Then we sat in the car and watched a movie because it was after curfew and we didn't want to end the party. Granted, my body hated me this morning for it.
Merry: "What happened to the Entwives?"
Treebeard: "We lost them."
Does that seem funny to anyone else?
And I'm rambling today. No deep thoughts coming out of this brain. I feel very much like the pre-solar-charged WallE. I'm functioning (barely) but it's not really accomplishing much.
Final thought: I can't help but laugh every time Legolas opens his mouth. His lines are just so ludicrous, and his acting is so bad. Just goes to show that even alleged "good looks" (a matter of opinion that I won't bother to debate here) can't save someone who has no personality. And it's a shame, because Legolas in the books was pretty darn awesome. End final thought.
Another small joy: I'm watching Lord of the Rings right now. The Two Towers, to be precise. And I can't pretend that I don't love it. Because I do. It brings back memories of my mostly-in-the-past geekdom. I never did learn elvish, but I knew those books inside and out. And I just recently bought a biography of J. R. R. Tolkien, one that I'd read once upon a long time ago. It was my favorite one. And yes, we'll just simply overlook the fact that I've read enough biographies of Tolkien to actually have a favorite.
Speaking of cars...
Oh right, no cars mentioned. Yet. Now there are. (I'm meta-writing, if you haven't noticed)
So speaking of cars,
Did you know that my roommate Stephanie can fit through the sunroof of a car? We tried that last night. (Random aside, did you ever wonder how on earth Gollum learned so much about the Last Battle of Men, Elves, and Orcs? He seems to know an eerie amount for a guy who's been living in a hole in the ground for the last 500 years...) Then we sat in the car and watched a movie because it was after curfew and we didn't want to end the party. Granted, my body hated me this morning for it.
Merry: "What happened to the Entwives?"
Treebeard: "We lost them."
Does that seem funny to anyone else?
And I'm rambling today. No deep thoughts coming out of this brain. I feel very much like the pre-solar-charged WallE. I'm functioning (barely) but it's not really accomplishing much.
13 October 2010
Highlights
Unofficial hiatus over. Sorry for my high distraction level. Sometimes life just kind of sucks you up and whips you along for the ride, even when you'd like to sit one out. It's been a good week. My cousin got married on Friday morning, which required that I get up two hours earlier than I normally do, despite my "day off" from school and work for the event. Two added bonuses to his wedding: 1) My dad came up for the wedding! and 2) he got married in Manti, which is only my favorite temple ever. The Jacksons have a history of getting married in the Manti temple, and I've wanted to do the same since I was a little girl. There's just this special feeling about that temple.
Then my dad, my uncle, his fiancee, and I played hookey from the wedding party pictures (since we're just the extended family...) and went to this delicious little ice cream parlor in Mount Pleasant. Can I just say that I'm probably in love with that banana cream pie shake? It was heaven in a cup.
Thank you, Uncle Gary, for introducing me to my newfound love. I just don't have the money or the means to support this relationship. Mount Pleasant is a long ways away. :(
Other highlights from this past week:
My 4-year-old cousin crawling up onto my lap, giving me a kiss, and playing with my hair before curling up and falling asleep in my arms.
Being addressed as my friend's "favorite Ex" which is probably only true because we've never actually dated. But it made me laugh anyway.
Receiving a confession on my facebook wall from a friend.
Getting asked on a date.
This may not sound like a "highlight" per se, but I taught my first Gospel Doctrine lesson (ever!) on Sunday and even though my knees were shaking the whole time, it went well, thanks to the awesome people in my class who tried so hard to make it easy for me. I've decided I kind of like teaching, and I think I'm going to really enjoy it.
Realizing that Savannah held out on blogging for so long, and then when we finally broke her down into starting a blog, she's since become more addicted to it than the rest of us put together. I'm quite amused.
My class is canceled today, which is why I'm writing this and not sitting in class. I got an extra hour and a half of sleep and loved it.
I converted a whole new group of friends to the amazingness that is Oscar. I love that no one really believes that it's going to be good, but by the end of the movie, they all love it.
And yeah, that's pretty much it right now. More soon. :)
Then my dad, my uncle, his fiancee, and I played hookey from the wedding party pictures (since we're just the extended family...) and went to this delicious little ice cream parlor in Mount Pleasant. Can I just say that I'm probably in love with that banana cream pie shake? It was heaven in a cup.
Thank you, Uncle Gary, for introducing me to my newfound love. I just don't have the money or the means to support this relationship. Mount Pleasant is a long ways away. :(
Other highlights from this past week:
My 4-year-old cousin crawling up onto my lap, giving me a kiss, and playing with my hair before curling up and falling asleep in my arms.
Being addressed as my friend's "favorite Ex" which is probably only true because we've never actually dated. But it made me laugh anyway.
Receiving a confession on my facebook wall from a friend.
Getting asked on a date.
This may not sound like a "highlight" per se, but I taught my first Gospel Doctrine lesson (ever!) on Sunday and even though my knees were shaking the whole time, it went well, thanks to the awesome people in my class who tried so hard to make it easy for me. I've decided I kind of like teaching, and I think I'm going to really enjoy it.
Realizing that Savannah held out on blogging for so long, and then when we finally broke her down into starting a blog, she's since become more addicted to it than the rest of us put together. I'm quite amused.
My class is canceled today, which is why I'm writing this and not sitting in class. I got an extra hour and a half of sleep and loved it.
I converted a whole new group of friends to the amazingness that is Oscar. I love that no one really believes that it's going to be good, but by the end of the movie, they all love it.
And yeah, that's pretty much it right now. More soon. :)
10 October 2010
07 October 2010
The Streak Holds
And the good-day-streak holds out! (despite the internet being stupidly slow... I wish I knew what happened to our wireless because it's just... not there anymore) This makes the end of the third full day that I've gone feeling happy and relatively carefree. I blame the rain.
I love rain. In all its spurty, drizzly, dumpy, chilly wetness. Walking home from class today, I glanced up at the mountains, all crisp and dark in the misty rain and I sighed happily. No matter where I live, no matter where I go, I think I will always have a love affair with the rain.
I love rain. In all its spurty, drizzly, dumpy, chilly wetness. Walking home from class today, I glanced up at the mountains, all crisp and dark in the misty rain and I sighed happily. No matter where I live, no matter where I go, I think I will always have a love affair with the rain.
04 October 2010
Love Note
One dark, stormy afternoon:
My dear Lynnae,
I love you. Here, have a thunderstorm to cheer you up and make you smile today.
Love, God
Thanks for the love note, Heavenly Father. I certainly did smile.
My dear Lynnae,
I love you. Here, have a thunderstorm to cheer you up and make you smile today.
Love, God
Thanks for the love note, Heavenly Father. I certainly did smile.
03 October 2010
Yes, I'm Living the Dream
Is anyone else a little sad that conference is over? I had to smile when I felt myself droop a little as the last session came to a close, because that meant that I had a very good experience with it this time. If nothing else, I got a lot help on how to keep upbeat and optimistic about life. Because clearly, I've been struggling with that. It's so hard to explain all of the reasons why my mood slips down, but I appreciate the advice and counsel I get from friends and family. It makes a difference, even if my learning curve is a couple of days before it all sinks in and I get what you're all trying to tell me.
To express gratitude is gracious and honorable. To enact gratitude is generous and noble. To live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven. ~Thomas S. Monson (feel free to correct this quote if it's wrong, I'm running off of memory writing it)
That quote, as well as the talk that accompanied it, packed a spiritual wallop over the head with a two-by-four for me today. And I realized that it was time to wake up and really appreciate what I see in front of me. Michelle wrote in her blog that she's living the dream, even if she doesn't have everything she wants at the moment, and I was a little dismayed to discover that, as of yesterday, I couldn't honestly say the same. After getting a Rafiki-like whap on the head (metaphorically, of course) today during conference, I think I'm starting to change that thinking. I know I do gratitude lists fairly often, but today I'm going to spend a little more time on this one.
I'm so very grateful that I'm going to BYU. I'm at an institution where watching conference with an apartment full of peers is a normal occurrence. Where prayers are said to start classes. Where almost everything is taught with a gospel perspective. Yes, I know there are members who go to other universities and find spiritual strength and enlightenment there, but for me, this is where I'm supposed to be. I have absolutely no doubt about that, and I'm surprised to look back and realize how far I've come since starting here.
I have been so unbelievably blessed with friends. I cannot count the number of people who've fallen into my life at just the right time to bless me and lift me up. My roommates are always there to fill in the weak spots, my guyfriends are there to love me in spite of my rough moments and remind me that I'm beautiful (and let's be honest: it always means more coming from a guy than it does from roommates or family -- guys aren't really obligated to tell us nice things. They say it only if they want to), and some of the girls in my ward seem to instinctively know just when to smile and say hi.
As strange as this is to say, I am so grateful to have dated a man (yes, a man, not a boy -- he'll never be a boy to me) who was faithful and true to me through all the long months, even though it still ended with us breaking up. Not only that, but he was true enough to his Priesthood, and to himself, to walk away, despite knowing how much it hurt both of us. But perhaps the most important thing that I'm grateful for at this point is that he was willing to make the decision with me. We did it together, and I don't think I can ever fully express to him (and I can't possibly remind myself enough) how deeply grateful I am that he respected me enough to share that burden. It wasn't easy, and I'll never say that it was, but even in that one exquisitely painful moment, he taught me more than he could possibly realize.
I'm grateful for the strength that comes from the Spirit. And I'm eternally grateful that spiritual memory is the most accurate sensory memory we possess. Long after sights, sounds, smells, and feelings fade from our memories, spiritual experiences remain as crisp and clear as ever. That's how I dig up the strength to face every day. That's how I find myself back in positive moods after inexplicably crummy days. Because I know that things are going right. When I find myself doubting, I trace back to those moments of clarity and perspective and relive them to find the strength I lack. Even if it means going back to that sacred moment when, as a young girl, I asked the Lord if He loved me personally, I can recall with perfect clarity how I felt. Such moments are sprinkled generously throughout my life, which means that I have innumerable experiences to relive.
In the more tangible aspects of life, I really am still living the dream. I'm graduating. I have to say it over and over again to convince myself that it's real, but I'm graduating. I'll be the first Jackson in my generation to earn a baccalaureate degree. I'm mere months away from achieving one of the major life goals that I've been working on since I was old enough to know what college was. It's so close that I can begin to taste it. Regardless of how uncertain my career future looks, or how scared I might be, I'm on the cusp of accomplishing the first huge goal I ever set for myself and that is going to be an amazing feeling. It already is, and I haven't even finished yet.
I'm going through the temple. It's another thing I have to whisper to myself over and over again, because a big part of me is still reeling that it's happening so soon. And interestingly enough, it's happening just the way I wanted it to. When I was younger, I read about the blessings of the endowment ordinances and said to myself, "I want to experience that separate and apart from the sealing ordinance. I don't want it overshadowed with the chaos of orchestrating a wedding." Unfortunately, such a desire has meant that I've had to experience some very painful heartbreaks, otherwise I very well could have been preparing for a wedding and the endowment at the same time. At times I've hated that the Lord is apparently respecting my girlhood wish and giving each ordinance its own frame, but deep down, I don't think I'm really all that upset. It's what I wanted then, and frankly, it's what I want now.
It's strange to hear myself say this, but I'm grateful for the trials I've been experiencing. They have been painful, and they have been expertly engineered to strike at my most vulnerable spots with piercing effect. But they have forced me to take my stand and find strength that I didn't know I had. In the course of doing so, I have acquired the absolute certainty that I am doing what I should. The Lord is at my side through every step, one hand steadying me, and one hand at my back, urging me onward. I can't doubt it, even if I wanted to, thanks to that spiritual memory I mentioned earlier.
But enough with the personal gratitudes, even though they are deeply applicable.
Here are other reasons that my life is absolutely wonderful, and, because it's me, most of them have to do with people.
Okay, this one isn't a person, but still. I have a bookshelf full of treasured books. This may sound inconsequential to a lot of people, but it's something that fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction whenever I look at it. Even that small, simple pleasure is enough to turn my day around sometimes.
Savannah. The twin sister of my Inner Writer. She can express what my own words could never say, and she can see what I could never bring myself to tell.
Michelle. The beacon of persistence, faith, and unqualified loyalty to the gospel and the Savior. She's often the one delivering those Rafiki-like whaps on the head, whether she realizes it or not.
Stephanie. The sister I found in the most unexpected place. I never would have guessed when I met her a year ago that she would become one of my closest friends, but she has, and I can never treasure her enough.
Kristopher. Unconventional circumstances brought us together, but through them, I gained an irreplaceable friend.
Qait. The family my soul always knew that it had. There is a connection there that I could never begin to describe, and it's one that no amount of distance, time, or changing life situations has ever been able to destroy.
My parents. They have forged me into the person who left for college three and a half years ago, and because of their guidance and example, I find myself becoming more and more like them every day. And that is the highest praise that I can give.
And, as always, the single most important thing that I can never, ever be grateful for enough, is my Savior. I remember sitting on my bedroom floor earlier this week and bemoaning the fact that I didn't have anyone who knew me so perfectly that they could tell at a glance what I needed. But there is Someone who knows me exactly that well, and He is the most unfailing companion any heart could ever ask for. He will always, always be there for me, and He has all the answers. I can do everything that I'm trying to accomplish and more, with such a Friend at my side.
To express gratitude is gracious and honorable. To enact gratitude is generous and noble. To live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven. ~Thomas S. Monson (feel free to correct this quote if it's wrong, I'm running off of memory writing it)
That quote, as well as the talk that accompanied it, packed a spiritual wallop over the head with a two-by-four for me today. And I realized that it was time to wake up and really appreciate what I see in front of me. Michelle wrote in her blog that she's living the dream, even if she doesn't have everything she wants at the moment, and I was a little dismayed to discover that, as of yesterday, I couldn't honestly say the same. After getting a Rafiki-like whap on the head (metaphorically, of course) today during conference, I think I'm starting to change that thinking. I know I do gratitude lists fairly often, but today I'm going to spend a little more time on this one.
I'm so very grateful that I'm going to BYU. I'm at an institution where watching conference with an apartment full of peers is a normal occurrence. Where prayers are said to start classes. Where almost everything is taught with a gospel perspective. Yes, I know there are members who go to other universities and find spiritual strength and enlightenment there, but for me, this is where I'm supposed to be. I have absolutely no doubt about that, and I'm surprised to look back and realize how far I've come since starting here.
I have been so unbelievably blessed with friends. I cannot count the number of people who've fallen into my life at just the right time to bless me and lift me up. My roommates are always there to fill in the weak spots, my guyfriends are there to love me in spite of my rough moments and remind me that I'm beautiful (and let's be honest: it always means more coming from a guy than it does from roommates or family -- guys aren't really obligated to tell us nice things. They say it only if they want to), and some of the girls in my ward seem to instinctively know just when to smile and say hi.
As strange as this is to say, I am so grateful to have dated a man (yes, a man, not a boy -- he'll never be a boy to me) who was faithful and true to me through all the long months, even though it still ended with us breaking up. Not only that, but he was true enough to his Priesthood, and to himself, to walk away, despite knowing how much it hurt both of us. But perhaps the most important thing that I'm grateful for at this point is that he was willing to make the decision with me. We did it together, and I don't think I can ever fully express to him (and I can't possibly remind myself enough) how deeply grateful I am that he respected me enough to share that burden. It wasn't easy, and I'll never say that it was, but even in that one exquisitely painful moment, he taught me more than he could possibly realize.
I'm grateful for the strength that comes from the Spirit. And I'm eternally grateful that spiritual memory is the most accurate sensory memory we possess. Long after sights, sounds, smells, and feelings fade from our memories, spiritual experiences remain as crisp and clear as ever. That's how I dig up the strength to face every day. That's how I find myself back in positive moods after inexplicably crummy days. Because I know that things are going right. When I find myself doubting, I trace back to those moments of clarity and perspective and relive them to find the strength I lack. Even if it means going back to that sacred moment when, as a young girl, I asked the Lord if He loved me personally, I can recall with perfect clarity how I felt. Such moments are sprinkled generously throughout my life, which means that I have innumerable experiences to relive.
In the more tangible aspects of life, I really am still living the dream. I'm graduating. I have to say it over and over again to convince myself that it's real, but I'm graduating. I'll be the first Jackson in my generation to earn a baccalaureate degree. I'm mere months away from achieving one of the major life goals that I've been working on since I was old enough to know what college was. It's so close that I can begin to taste it. Regardless of how uncertain my career future looks, or how scared I might be, I'm on the cusp of accomplishing the first huge goal I ever set for myself and that is going to be an amazing feeling. It already is, and I haven't even finished yet.
I'm going through the temple. It's another thing I have to whisper to myself over and over again, because a big part of me is still reeling that it's happening so soon. And interestingly enough, it's happening just the way I wanted it to. When I was younger, I read about the blessings of the endowment ordinances and said to myself, "I want to experience that separate and apart from the sealing ordinance. I don't want it overshadowed with the chaos of orchestrating a wedding." Unfortunately, such a desire has meant that I've had to experience some very painful heartbreaks, otherwise I very well could have been preparing for a wedding and the endowment at the same time. At times I've hated that the Lord is apparently respecting my girlhood wish and giving each ordinance its own frame, but deep down, I don't think I'm really all that upset. It's what I wanted then, and frankly, it's what I want now.
It's strange to hear myself say this, but I'm grateful for the trials I've been experiencing. They have been painful, and they have been expertly engineered to strike at my most vulnerable spots with piercing effect. But they have forced me to take my stand and find strength that I didn't know I had. In the course of doing so, I have acquired the absolute certainty that I am doing what I should. The Lord is at my side through every step, one hand steadying me, and one hand at my back, urging me onward. I can't doubt it, even if I wanted to, thanks to that spiritual memory I mentioned earlier.
But enough with the personal gratitudes, even though they are deeply applicable.
Here are other reasons that my life is absolutely wonderful, and, because it's me, most of them have to do with people.
Okay, this one isn't a person, but still. I have a bookshelf full of treasured books. This may sound inconsequential to a lot of people, but it's something that fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction whenever I look at it. Even that small, simple pleasure is enough to turn my day around sometimes.
Savannah. The twin sister of my Inner Writer. She can express what my own words could never say, and she can see what I could never bring myself to tell.
Michelle. The beacon of persistence, faith, and unqualified loyalty to the gospel and the Savior. She's often the one delivering those Rafiki-like whaps on the head, whether she realizes it or not.
Stephanie. The sister I found in the most unexpected place. I never would have guessed when I met her a year ago that she would become one of my closest friends, but she has, and I can never treasure her enough.
Kristopher. Unconventional circumstances brought us together, but through them, I gained an irreplaceable friend.
Qait. The family my soul always knew that it had. There is a connection there that I could never begin to describe, and it's one that no amount of distance, time, or changing life situations has ever been able to destroy.
My parents. They have forged me into the person who left for college three and a half years ago, and because of their guidance and example, I find myself becoming more and more like them every day. And that is the highest praise that I can give.
And, as always, the single most important thing that I can never, ever be grateful for enough, is my Savior. I remember sitting on my bedroom floor earlier this week and bemoaning the fact that I didn't have anyone who knew me so perfectly that they could tell at a glance what I needed. But there is Someone who knows me exactly that well, and He is the most unfailing companion any heart could ever ask for. He will always, always be there for me, and He has all the answers. I can do everything that I'm trying to accomplish and more, with such a Friend at my side.
02 October 2010
Quiet Days
I'm developing a growing appreciation for quiet moments. This could be stemming from my roller-coaster-ish relationship with my social life (Stephanie is unofficially my Social Scheduler now, so that I don't have to think about it anymore).
So when President Uchtdorf talked about tree rings and reducing speed in the middle of the tempest, there was a little part of my tired soul that cried out "Glory Hallelujah!" to hear that my desire to spend quiet evenings with a book or in introspection is not entirely condemnable. True, we have to still work hard and stick it out, and that takes nerve and, to synthesize a little, character (cue memories of Calvin and Hobbes...)
So when President Uchtdorf talked about tree rings and reducing speed in the middle of the tempest, there was a little part of my tired soul that cried out "Glory Hallelujah!" to hear that my desire to spend quiet evenings with a book or in introspection is not entirely condemnable. True, we have to still work hard and stick it out, and that takes nerve and, to synthesize a little, character (cue memories of Calvin and Hobbes...)
but it's okay to not be running at warp speed all the time, even if other people are seemingly successful at doing it. Especially since my warp core is running a little low on dilithium crystals at the moment, to use a little Trekkie humor.
What got me most about President Uchtdorf's talk is that he never once advocated a full stop or a change of course. No, he simply recommended reducing speed to the optimal turbulence-defying-and-living-to-tell-about-it velocity. But you still have forward momentum.
Now, my current bit of turbulence is... well, let's just say that it has an end, but that end is about 10 months away. Which means I'm in for a long haul, with not a lot of promise of respite.
Whee?
More like, "Buckle up, ladies and gentlemen, you're in for a very, very bumpy ride," followed by a collective groan and an awful lot of praying to make it out alive.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have any doubts about how my life's going to turn out in the long run. It's going to be great. I'm picking up the pieces to a happy, healthy, extremely fulfilling life. And I'm looking forward to it. In the interim, I'm on a bumpy journey that will include a lot of ups and downs. I have no illusions about that.
01 October 2010
The Bookworm Lives!
Thank heavens! You know, I'd started to worry whether or not it had survived the purge of college and exes who didn't like reading. But it has. And it's fatter and healthier than it's been in a long time. I read all of City of Glass yesterday afternoon, all of Hunger Games today, and, assuming my social life doesn't pick up tomorrow, all of Catching Fire by this time tomorrow. In fact, I believe I've read roughly a book a day this entire week, not including scripture reading, temple study, and homework. Little Bookworm must have been starving. Poor thing.
I'd forgotten how much I really love reading.
I don't have much time for it these days, what with homework, looming graduation, temple prep, work, social life, and a very pressing need to sleep and eat. So that might explain the binge-reading I've been doing. Good thing binge-reading is significantly better for you than binge-eating.
I want my children to grow up to be the kind of people who think that 'decorating' means building enough bookshelves.
Oh yes, please.
I was standing in front of my bookshelf the other night, lamenting the fact that I was already having to double-stack it to fit all my books on it, and Savannah started painting this picture of my future home with a lovely library (described as very much like the Beauty and the Beast library, though honestly I'd much rather have one of those cozy, small(er) woodsy kind of libraries) and I drifted off into a fanciful daydream about it.
A friend of mine posted on her facebook the other day that she was about to go join her husband to sit and read on the couch. Just the two of them, each with a book, reading for the evening. I sighed wistfully. Yes, wistfully. If I've learned one thing recently, it's that, even though there're some things that we think we can live without for the rest of our lives, we really can't. Me, I need someone who at least gets what I love about books. He doesn't have to be a huge reader, and quite frankly, I actually really like reading aloud, so I don't mind if he doesn't have the patience/attention span to read a book himself. What I really mean is that I need someone who doesn't mind sitting down and discussing something we've read recently, someone who, when I read something to him, actually has something to say about it. (Thanks to Little Brother for helping me sort that whole thing out in my head so that it actually makes sense.)
Otherwise we risk starving the Bookworm, and that could have some disastrous effects.
Like, for instance, half of my soul shriveling up.
Please no.
Now, leaving that distressing thought aside, I'd like to point out that life is better now. Quite a bit better. It's not easy, and it probably never will be, not as long as I'm fighting for the things that mean the world to me, but there's been a marked improvement in my overall mood over the last few days. Thanks to everyone who helped. :)
I'd forgotten how much I really love reading.
I don't have much time for it these days, what with homework, looming graduation, temple prep, work, social life, and a very pressing need to sleep and eat. So that might explain the binge-reading I've been doing. Good thing binge-reading is significantly better for you than binge-eating.
I want my children to grow up to be the kind of people who think that 'decorating' means building enough bookshelves.
Oh yes, please.
I was standing in front of my bookshelf the other night, lamenting the fact that I was already having to double-stack it to fit all my books on it, and Savannah started painting this picture of my future home with a lovely library (described as very much like the Beauty and the Beast library, though honestly I'd much rather have one of those cozy, small(er) woodsy kind of libraries) and I drifted off into a fanciful daydream about it.
A friend of mine posted on her facebook the other day that she was about to go join her husband to sit and read on the couch. Just the two of them, each with a book, reading for the evening. I sighed wistfully. Yes, wistfully. If I've learned one thing recently, it's that, even though there're some things that we think we can live without for the rest of our lives, we really can't. Me, I need someone who at least gets what I love about books. He doesn't have to be a huge reader, and quite frankly, I actually really like reading aloud, so I don't mind if he doesn't have the patience/attention span to read a book himself. What I really mean is that I need someone who doesn't mind sitting down and discussing something we've read recently, someone who, when I read something to him, actually has something to say about it. (Thanks to Little Brother for helping me sort that whole thing out in my head so that it actually makes sense.)
Otherwise we risk starving the Bookworm, and that could have some disastrous effects.
Like, for instance, half of my soul shriveling up.
Please no.
Now, leaving that distressing thought aside, I'd like to point out that life is better now. Quite a bit better. It's not easy, and it probably never will be, not as long as I'm fighting for the things that mean the world to me, but there's been a marked improvement in my overall mood over the last few days. Thanks to everyone who helped. :)
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