My mom sent me a link to this video today. I thought I'd share it with all my military-family friends out there, assuming that they haven't seen it already.
This also gives me a chance to share some of my own thoughts on the subject.
I'll be honest, songs about military service always tug at my heartstrings. I have so much respect for servicemen and women. I think they are some of the noblest, bravest people in the world. True, you have that batch of men and women who just like to kill things, or are just in it for the paid college tuition, but I'm talking about the people who do it for a living. Papa Boatright. Rae's husband Phil. Cousins, friends, people I've dated. They give up so much to fight for a country that far too often fails to appreciate what they're doing.
Yes, war is ugly. It's the result of corrupt and greedy men. But war is not the soldier's fault. Ask a soldier what he's fighting for, and he's a thousand times more likely to tell you that he's fighting to protect his family and other families like his than that he's fighting to win oil rights, or whatever political agenda countries have for war. Sometimes, he's even fighting to protect the families of his enemy when he and his brethren dislodge a corrupt and oppressive government.
I dated (very briefly) a young ROTC officer while I was at BYU. There were a lot of reasons it didn't work out, but his being in the Army was not one of them. It broke my heart that he was so surprised when I didn't write him off right away. It seems that every girl before me had found out and promptly run in the other direction. When I didn't, I think he wanted to date me out of sheer relief. Although things definitely didn't work out, none of the reasons had anything to do with his career in the Army. If anything, his courage and willingness to serve were the things I liked best about him. But it made me think a lot about the kind of life he and his family will lead.
The life of an Army wife is a hard one. Not one that I would enter into lightly or without making sure that I really was supposed to spend my life with him. But it's one that I would be honored to live. As I'm sure these women are. And I honor them for their bravery. It takes a lot of courage and selflessness for a wife to let her country take her husband overseas to risk his life fighting for people she's never met. But I've talked to those Army wives. And none of them regret the life they live.
I may not agree with all the politics and tactics of war, and I know that the soldiers don't always agree with it either. But they continue to fight, in the hopes that their fight will make a difference in foreign countries and in their own. They fight because they believe that, underneath all the twisted political agendas, their country is still worth fighting for.
That is what I admire about them.
29 December 2011
28 December 2011
Energizer Kiddies
Back on the topic of Christmas, since the number one question after the holidays is "How was your Christmas?" so it's pretty much always on my mind right now.
One thing I noticed about being in a houseful of kids?
This happens. All. The. Time.
One thing I noticed about being in a houseful of kids?
27 December 2011
The Back-up Plan
So for all of you who are worried/anxious/concerned/curious/feeling noncommittally nosy about my future, I'm still up in the air about jobs, but I have a couple of good leads. I've interviewed for a position at the Ensign, and I've passed the pre-qualification screening for a job with this market research company. The latter is a big relief, because now I know that my resume is getting out there, that people are actually looking at it, and that my coworkers weren't just being nice when they said I was employable.
Other than that, I'm making plans to keep me busy once my internship ends this week. If the situation gets desperate, I may pick up a part-time job at the local grocery store or something to hold me over and occupy my time until something better comes along.
Incidentally, I have a secret fear that I'll be job-hunting and job-hunting and suddenly, 25 years down the road, I'll realize that I'm that little cashier who's been there longer than the last three bosses, because I never could get out of the rut. I don't want to be that person with the brilliant education who ends up running the local ChipperCheaper. (See? I even have a name for it! I'm doomed!)
I'm kidding. Well, kind of. I am afraid of it, but I'm pretty sure the Lord has something more in store for me than just trying to make someone's day better when they've discovered that they've massively overspent their budget and feel like it's my fault because the store I work at is so tempting. (Don't smirk. I've had that happen to me, back in the days of my high school cashiering.)
Plus, I have a backup plan---formulated 10 seconds ago, but foolproof nonetheless: If I'm not going to be an editor, I'll be a cashier moonlighting as a book editor and as an MBA student until I know enough about business to start my own publishing company and bid farewell to my cashier-y friends. No rut for me, goshdarnit.
OR!
I'll stalk all of the author conventions (still a cashier moonlighting as an editor) until I find that one author who will be the next J. K. Rowling (which hasn't been done yet, by the way). Then, said Rising Star Author will be so grateful to me for my invaluable editorial advice, that she'll take me with her in her rising fame and suddenly all of the publishing companies will be falling all over themselves trying to hire me. And I'll start my own business anyways. Yep. That's a foolproof plan.
So maybe that's melodramatic. In all likelihood, I won't get stuck for 25 years as the Target cashier. Nor is it really all that likely that I'll need to moonlight as an editor (like a superhero for the book world: I'd be the Batman of Books) behind everyone's backs until I'm brilliant enough to start my own company. I may end up going after an MBA or a Master's degree in publishing, but I haven't felt the push to do that quite yet---just the "keep it in mind" feeling, like maybe it'll be important someday.
But I suppose I should get my Batman-style cape of parchment pages and my utility belt containing red pens, sticky notes, the Chicago Manual of Style (magically shrunk to fit on a belt, of course), thesaurus/dictionary, and paper-clip-grappling hook ready, just in case. You never know when a poor little novel will need the aid of Bookworman to sweep in and rescue it. Yes, I made up that name. Yes, it's a combination of bookworm and woman. No, you can't steal it. It's mine.
So please excuse me. I have to go assemble my paper-clip grappling hook now. And assemble my lair. And make sure Batman can't kill me for ripping off his idea. If he does, I suppose that solves my whole looking-for-employment problem.
Bingo: another foolproof back-up plan.
Other than that, I'm making plans to keep me busy once my internship ends this week. If the situation gets desperate, I may pick up a part-time job at the local grocery store or something to hold me over and occupy my time until something better comes along.
Incidentally, I have a secret fear that I'll be job-hunting and job-hunting and suddenly, 25 years down the road, I'll realize that I'm that little cashier who's been there longer than the last three bosses, because I never could get out of the rut. I don't want to be that person with the brilliant education who ends up running the local ChipperCheaper. (See? I even have a name for it! I'm doomed!)
I'm kidding. Well, kind of. I am afraid of it, but I'm pretty sure the Lord has something more in store for me than just trying to make someone's day better when they've discovered that they've massively overspent their budget and feel like it's my fault because the store I work at is so tempting. (Don't smirk. I've had that happen to me, back in the days of my high school cashiering.)
Plus, I have a backup plan---formulated 10 seconds ago, but foolproof nonetheless: If I'm not going to be an editor, I'll be a cashier moonlighting as a book editor and as an MBA student until I know enough about business to start my own publishing company and bid farewell to my cashier-y friends. No rut for me, goshdarnit.
OR!
I'll stalk all of the author conventions (still a cashier moonlighting as an editor) until I find that one author who will be the next J. K. Rowling (which hasn't been done yet, by the way). Then, said Rising Star Author will be so grateful to me for my invaluable editorial advice, that she'll take me with her in her rising fame and suddenly all of the publishing companies will be falling all over themselves trying to hire me. And I'll start my own business anyways. Yep. That's a foolproof plan.
So maybe that's melodramatic. In all likelihood, I won't get stuck for 25 years as the Target cashier. Nor is it really all that likely that I'll need to moonlight as an editor (like a superhero for the book world: I'd be the Batman of Books) behind everyone's backs until I'm brilliant enough to start my own company. I may end up going after an MBA or a Master's degree in publishing, but I haven't felt the push to do that quite yet---just the "keep it in mind" feeling, like maybe it'll be important someday.
But I suppose I should get my Batman-style cape of parchment pages and my utility belt containing red pens, sticky notes, the Chicago Manual of Style (magically shrunk to fit on a belt, of course), thesaurus/dictionary, and paper-clip-grappling hook ready, just in case. You never know when a poor little novel will need the aid of Bookworman to sweep in and rescue it. Yes, I made up that name. Yes, it's a combination of bookworm and woman. No, you can't steal it. It's mine.
So please excuse me. I have to go assemble my paper-clip grappling hook now. And assemble my lair. And make sure Batman can't kill me for ripping off his idea. If he does, I suppose that solves my whole looking-for-employment problem.
Bingo: another foolproof back-up plan.
25 December 2011
And a Very Merry Christmas to You
Christmas has been wonderful. There's nothing like a houseful of giddy kids who all still believe in Santa Claus to cure the lackofspirit blues I've been feeling. Having Ender crawl into my lap and ask me if he would be able to hear Santa coming is just cute.
I did miss being with my family, naturally. But I definitely made the right choice about where to spend my first Christmas away from home: Being Papa Boatright's "sixth daughter" was almost as good as being my own father's "Dots" (a name reserved just for me, incidentally ^_^). And thanks to all of the enthusiastic Boatright grandkids running around, I didn't have time to get lonely.
To be honest, I was most homesick for Brian anyway. My Thanksgiving dose of my family (and the possibility of seeing my family sometime in January or February) was enough to hold me over. But I've never spent a Christmas without Brian, and the thought of not being partners in crime in the Christmas mischief and mayhem (which we've done for as long as I can remember) would have been more difficult if I'd been with my family.
Which leads me to the best part of my Christmas. Sure, I got some cool presents, but the BEST present was hearing Brian's voice on the phone. He got his missionary Christmas phone call home, and Dad conferenced me in with them. I almost burst into tears when I heard him. Does that sound sappy? I'm sorry. I'm just so stinking proud of him. Hearing him talk with that familiar missionary-rhythm (if you don't know it, it's characterized by short sentences or phrases, with a rising tone at the end of each phrase---almost like the rising tone that marks a question in speech, but not quite so obvious), and slip into Spanish reminded me how much he's grown up since he left. Did you know he's been gone for nine months? That means he has 15 months left.
Yes, I'm trunky for him. He's not, but I am. :)
Anyway, that was my favorite part of Christmas. I hope you all had a wonderful day, too.
19 December 2011
Panic? Maybe a Little...
My internal clock is slowly ticking off the days I have left at my internship. As the other interns turn in their last days and have their exit interviews with the HR representative, that little voice in the back of my mind makes a quiet comment that that's one less intern here and one less intern between me and my last day.
Every question about what I'm doing after my internship is one more time I have to say, "I don't know."
Every person who's found a job is one more person who isn't me.
Every day is one more desperate attempt to shore up my financial resources so that I have money during the job hunt.
Every passing hour, the fear chips away at my fortress of peace that I've tried to build around myself.
I feel like this is the point where you reach the edge of the dark and have to take a step into the blackness before the lights flare up and show you your path. And I'm so. freaking. scared.
Every question about what I'm doing after my internship is one more time I have to say, "I don't know."
Every person who's found a job is one more person who isn't me.
Every day is one more desperate attempt to shore up my financial resources so that I have money during the job hunt.
Every passing hour, the fear chips away at my fortress of peace that I've tried to build around myself.
I feel like this is the point where you reach the edge of the dark and have to take a step into the blackness before the lights flare up and show you your path. And I'm so. freaking. scared.
14 December 2011
A Not-so-Grown-Up Christmas Wish
I'm spending Christmas with Qait's family this year. How cool is that? I can't go home for Christmas---it's a long story, but essentially it comes down to these two facts: I'm poor. And I went home for Thanksgiving.
Before you give me weird looks (or rather, before you give my blog weird looks, since you'll be reading it, not looking at me) and ask why I was crazy enough to pick Thanksgiving over Christmas, I'll preempt that right now and say that it was based on a mistaken assumption that since I was so homesick last Thanksgiving, I wouldn't mind the switch. I do mind it, but I figured that out after plane ticket prices skyrocketed, so here I am. In Utah for Christmas.
But it's not so bad. After all, I'll be spending Christmas with Mom & Dad Boatright (who, as the terms "mom" and "dad" might suggest, are like secondary parents to me), Qait and her family, and a smattering of other Boatright sisters who all feel like real sisters to me. Really, I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend Christmas besides spending it with my biological family.
So anyway, I've been doing some Christmas shopping for Qait, Michael, and the kids (shopping for Ender and Scarlett was way more fun than it should have been---I really should be too old to have that much fun in the toy section of the store...), and they, in turn, have been asking about my Christmas wishlist.
Normally, I'm pretty chill and perhaps a little too brutally practical about my Christmas gift list. My presents in the last few years have included: A new cell phone. A box of socks and underwear (okay, yeah, maybe you shouldn't know that...). Kitchen utensils. Basically, things that I need. And it's nice to have them. But trust me, it's really hard to light up and get excited over a freshly unwrapped box of socks (unless you start composing a ridiculous, rhymey little jingle in your head like I just did).
This year, I took a look at my list of needs: A new hard drive. Adobe InDesign. A car. Replacement DVD R/W drive for my computer. An iPad or a smartphone (yes, they actually do fall more under the "need" category than the "want" category, although they are not urgent). Now, if you haven't noticed, all of those things are just a little bit---okay, a LOT---on the expensive side. As in, a few hundred dollars over everyone's budget.
So I looked for cheaper things, and they all turned out to be books and movies. Pure entertainment. I don't even want educational books or movies.
And I feel so darn guilty about it.
I haven't had a Christmas wishlist composed entirely of frivolous wants for at least five years now. I feel so irresponsible about my Christmas wishes, and I'm not entirely sure that I dislike it.
You know, it's a sad, sad day when your wants are cheaper than your needs. The only needs I have that are cheap enough are food, toilet paper, and other normal grocery-shopping items. But I do NOT want those for Christmas. That would be a little too close to getting coal in my stocking. (And I've been a good girl this year: no running with scissors for me!)
So yeah. That's one major bummer about becoming an adult: your toys are a lot more expensive. Do you remember the days when a $5 carton of mini-figurines (for me it was those plastic horses) was enough to send you dancing around the house in glee? Grown-up toys don't even exist in the $5-$15 range (and no, horrible white-elephant gifts do not count).
And this is my not-so-grown-up Christmas wish: I wish that I were not so grown up; then my presents would be super easy to afford. :)
(Good thing I don't mind paperback books, I guess.)
Before you give me weird looks (or rather, before you give my blog weird looks, since you'll be reading it, not looking at me) and ask why I was crazy enough to pick Thanksgiving over Christmas, I'll preempt that right now and say that it was based on a mistaken assumption that since I was so homesick last Thanksgiving, I wouldn't mind the switch. I do mind it, but I figured that out after plane ticket prices skyrocketed, so here I am. In Utah for Christmas.
But it's not so bad. After all, I'll be spending Christmas with Mom & Dad Boatright (who, as the terms "mom" and "dad" might suggest, are like secondary parents to me), Qait and her family, and a smattering of other Boatright sisters who all feel like real sisters to me. Really, I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend Christmas besides spending it with my biological family.
So anyway, I've been doing some Christmas shopping for Qait, Michael, and the kids (shopping for Ender and Scarlett was way more fun than it should have been---I really should be too old to have that much fun in the toy section of the store...), and they, in turn, have been asking about my Christmas wishlist.
Normally, I'm pretty chill and perhaps a little too brutally practical about my Christmas gift list. My presents in the last few years have included: A new cell phone. A box of socks and underwear (okay, yeah, maybe you shouldn't know that...). Kitchen utensils. Basically, things that I need. And it's nice to have them. But trust me, it's really hard to light up and get excited over a freshly unwrapped box of socks (unless you start composing a ridiculous, rhymey little jingle in your head like I just did).
This year, I took a look at my list of needs: A new hard drive. Adobe InDesign. A car. Replacement DVD R/W drive for my computer. An iPad or a smartphone (yes, they actually do fall more under the "need" category than the "want" category, although they are not urgent). Now, if you haven't noticed, all of those things are just a little bit---okay, a LOT---on the expensive side. As in, a few hundred dollars over everyone's budget.
So I looked for cheaper things, and they all turned out to be books and movies. Pure entertainment. I don't even want educational books or movies.
And I feel so darn guilty about it.
I haven't had a Christmas wishlist composed entirely of frivolous wants for at least five years now. I feel so irresponsible about my Christmas wishes, and I'm not entirely sure that I dislike it.
You know, it's a sad, sad day when your wants are cheaper than your needs. The only needs I have that are cheap enough are food, toilet paper, and other normal grocery-shopping items. But I do NOT want those for Christmas. That would be a little too close to getting coal in my stocking. (And I've been a good girl this year: no running with scissors for me!)
So yeah. That's one major bummer about becoming an adult: your toys are a lot more expensive. Do you remember the days when a $5 carton of mini-figurines (for me it was those plastic horses) was enough to send you dancing around the house in glee? Grown-up toys don't even exist in the $5-$15 range (and no, horrible white-elephant gifts do not count).
And this is my not-so-grown-up Christmas wish: I wish that I were not so grown up; then my presents would be super easy to afford. :)
(Good thing I don't mind paperback books, I guess.)
13 December 2011
Holy Christmas, Batman!
What is it with holidays sneaking up on me this year?? I'm always aware of them, have plans for them far in advance, and then I just don't think about them until they're close enough to sneeze on me. (Wow. That's a great mental image. Sorry.)
Like Christmas.
It's next weekend.
What the heck?
My Christmas shopping is all done, no worries.
It just seems like every holiday has felt completely surreal for me this year. Almost like none of them matter. My birthday? I barely even thought about it until my roommates had a pink pillowcase over my head and were hauling me out the door.
Some people can immerse themselves so completely in the spirit of a holiday. Normally I can. Not sure what's different this year.
Don't mind me. I'm just having an existential crisis. Nothing big. ;)
Like Christmas.
It's next weekend.
What the heck?
My Christmas shopping is all done, no worries.
It just seems like every holiday has felt completely surreal for me this year. Almost like none of them matter. My birthday? I barely even thought about it until my roommates had a pink pillowcase over my head and were hauling me out the door.
Some people can immerse themselves so completely in the spirit of a holiday. Normally I can. Not sure what's different this year.
Don't mind me. I'm just having an existential crisis. Nothing big. ;)
12 December 2011
If Ye Are Prepared
I'm a planner. I like thinking ahead. I was the BYU Freshman who had all of my classes planned out until graduation. Each semester, I revisited that schedule and changed it, but I had a plan. For most of my life, I've been able to see where I would be for more than a year ahead.
Now, I have no idea what life will be like for me three weeks from now.
My internship is ending on December 30th. I have one job interview this week and a couple of leads on places to look for employment, but after that, nothing. If I don't land this job, I'm not sure where to start on anything else.
For all intents and purposes, you should expect to find my picture under the dictionary definition for "panic attack." (Incidentally, I just checked: Webster's does not have an entry for "panic attack," but dictionary.com does---because knowing that matters to me.) I should be having a nervous breakdown right now. And, to be frank, when people start digging vigorously into my plans for my future, I get the flutterings of panic in the pit of my stomach.
But I am consistently surprised how at peace I am in general. When I'm not actively answering questions about my future, the stress is rarely eating at the back of my mind the way I'd expect it to.
And it's not that I'm a master at stress-management (family and ex-roommates, feel free to smirk knowingly here) or that I'm lazy and unconcerned about my future or anything. I owe my peace of mind to the Lord.
I'm not perfect at trusting in His plan for me, but I've noticed recently that I've gotten better at it. I feel confident that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing.
I had a really beautiful conversation with my friends at work during a meeting, where we talked about the meaning of the scripture "If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear," namely, why we don't need to fear. It comes down to the idea that the Lord loves us so very much that He wants us to succeed. He wants us to be happy and fulfilled. He will never set us up for failure or abject misery. He may allow us to experience things that test us and make us grow, but He will never try to make us miserable. The preparation part is our responsibility to do what is within our control. He will take care of the rest.
I'm feeling comfortable with my end of this preparation scale, and I know that the Lord keeps His promises. And not everything in my life is up in the air. There are some things that I do have control over that are contributing to my peace of mind:
~I have a place to live (more than one, actually, thanks to generous offers from friends and psuedo-family-members) for an indefinite amount of time, and multiple offers that will accommodate my financial needs if I need to tighten my living expenses.
~Thanks to saving for a car, I've built up a healthy little nest egg of savings that will support me for a few months of unemployment. I need that money for a car, but it's there if the greater need of survival comes up.
~My resume is polished and well-rounded---and extremely adaptable to the various types of jobs I've been looking at/applying for.
I can't control whether a company considers my application or not. I can't dictate the outcomes of job interviews. I can't be confident that I'm the best-qualified applicant for the job. But I can keep the rest of my life in order so that, no matter how hard it gets or how long the job hunt draws out, I have some measure of security.
Here are a couple of other reasons why I'm not panicky right now:
~In a priesthood blessing, the Lord told me flat-out not to worry---that's a pretty good reason, don't you think?
~I just got a new calling in my ward, less than three weeks before, ostensibly, I would have to move---since callings are divinely inspired, I feel allowed to hope that that means the Lord kind of wants to keep me in the same place for a little longer.
~Normally, I'd have the packing boxes out and would be more than halfway packed by now, but I've felt no inclination whatsoever to pack. This break from my typical behavior suggests either hope-driven delusion, or Spirit-inspired stupor of thought regarding packing. If it's the former, I have bigger problems than packing to worry about. I'd like to think that I'm fairly receptive to the promptings of the Spirit. Enough so that I'd know whether I should start packing or not.
~I also keep experiencing stupors of thought when it comes to jobs outside of Salt Lake. The ones that keep coming back up---or dropping in my lap in the first place---are all local. Another thing that makes me feel hopeful about finding something nearby so that I don't have to uproot and start over completely once again.
I hope that gives you a little peek into my mind (and my future) and puts to rest a few of your questions. I'd also like to express my sincere gratitude for the people in my life who have been praying for me, crossing their fingers for me, thinking about me, and wishing for my success. It makes a huge difference to know that I am loved and supported. I wish each of you success in the dreams you're chasing as well.
Now, I have no idea what life will be like for me three weeks from now.
My internship is ending on December 30th. I have one job interview this week and a couple of leads on places to look for employment, but after that, nothing. If I don't land this job, I'm not sure where to start on anything else.
For all intents and purposes, you should expect to find my picture under the dictionary definition for "panic attack." (Incidentally, I just checked: Webster's does not have an entry for "panic attack," but dictionary.com does---because knowing that matters to me.) I should be having a nervous breakdown right now. And, to be frank, when people start digging vigorously into my plans for my future, I get the flutterings of panic in the pit of my stomach.
But I am consistently surprised how at peace I am in general. When I'm not actively answering questions about my future, the stress is rarely eating at the back of my mind the way I'd expect it to.
And it's not that I'm a master at stress-management (family and ex-roommates, feel free to smirk knowingly here) or that I'm lazy and unconcerned about my future or anything. I owe my peace of mind to the Lord.
I'm not perfect at trusting in His plan for me, but I've noticed recently that I've gotten better at it. I feel confident that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing.
I had a really beautiful conversation with my friends at work during a meeting, where we talked about the meaning of the scripture "If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear," namely, why we don't need to fear. It comes down to the idea that the Lord loves us so very much that He wants us to succeed. He wants us to be happy and fulfilled. He will never set us up for failure or abject misery. He may allow us to experience things that test us and make us grow, but He will never try to make us miserable. The preparation part is our responsibility to do what is within our control. He will take care of the rest.
I'm feeling comfortable with my end of this preparation scale, and I know that the Lord keeps His promises. And not everything in my life is up in the air. There are some things that I do have control over that are contributing to my peace of mind:
~I have a place to live (more than one, actually, thanks to generous offers from friends and psuedo-family-members) for an indefinite amount of time, and multiple offers that will accommodate my financial needs if I need to tighten my living expenses.
~Thanks to saving for a car, I've built up a healthy little nest egg of savings that will support me for a few months of unemployment. I need that money for a car, but it's there if the greater need of survival comes up.
~My resume is polished and well-rounded---and extremely adaptable to the various types of jobs I've been looking at/applying for.
I can't control whether a company considers my application or not. I can't dictate the outcomes of job interviews. I can't be confident that I'm the best-qualified applicant for the job. But I can keep the rest of my life in order so that, no matter how hard it gets or how long the job hunt draws out, I have some measure of security.
Here are a couple of other reasons why I'm not panicky right now:
~In a priesthood blessing, the Lord told me flat-out not to worry---that's a pretty good reason, don't you think?
~I just got a new calling in my ward, less than three weeks before, ostensibly, I would have to move---since callings are divinely inspired, I feel allowed to hope that that means the Lord kind of wants to keep me in the same place for a little longer.
~Normally, I'd have the packing boxes out and would be more than halfway packed by now, but I've felt no inclination whatsoever to pack. This break from my typical behavior suggests either hope-driven delusion, or Spirit-inspired stupor of thought regarding packing. If it's the former, I have bigger problems than packing to worry about. I'd like to think that I'm fairly receptive to the promptings of the Spirit. Enough so that I'd know whether I should start packing or not.
~I also keep experiencing stupors of thought when it comes to jobs outside of Salt Lake. The ones that keep coming back up---or dropping in my lap in the first place---are all local. Another thing that makes me feel hopeful about finding something nearby so that I don't have to uproot and start over completely once again.
I hope that gives you a little peek into my mind (and my future) and puts to rest a few of your questions. I'd also like to express my sincere gratitude for the people in my life who have been praying for me, crossing their fingers for me, thinking about me, and wishing for my success. It makes a huge difference to know that I am loved and supported. I wish each of you success in the dreams you're chasing as well.
08 December 2011
Blustery
So sorry it's been a while! I have many things to post about, but I've been slow to post them. Once again, my mom has called me up and asked me what's going on in my life because apparently she reads my blog and misses me when I don't write.
Well, I'll try to summarize some of the major things going on right now.
You may or may not have heard about the windstorms in Davis County on December 2. I did. I heard the winds themselves, howling around my window for about 10 hours straight. Bountiful wasn't the worst hit, but it did get slammed pretty hard by the gusts.
I've lived through tornadoes, earthquakes, even flooding (yes, Mom, remember when the creek in the greenbelt in Michigan overflowed and crept up through the trees until we could see it from our backyard? Yep, I remember that, and it freaked me out a little back then.) But those winds were scary.
You've probably read a lot about the stats of the windstorm. If you didn't, you can. There are definitely news articles about it. Hurricane-force winds will do a lot of damage when they blow steadily for 8-10 hours.
Most of the damage came in the form of pine trees falling over. You couldn't go more than a block without seeing at least one big tree lying at the wrong angle. So on Sunday, at the request of the area authorities, all of the wards either canceled or shortened their church meetings, and everyone went out to serve. A big windstorm was expected to kick up again on Sunday night, which contributed to the urgency, but, like the Mammoth Blizzard of 2010, it ended up being extremely underwhelming. Though in this case, no one in Davis County was the least bit disappointed about that. The county is still recovering from the first windstorm and none of us wanted a second one.
So I and a group of my friends went out to one of the debris-dumping sites and unloaded branches and stumps from all of the trucks that came through. If I'd tried to keep count of the number of trucks and trailers we unloaded (which I didn't) I definitely would have lost count. Hundreds. We filled up a church-sized parking lot with debris. I have scratches on my legs, pine-needle-pricks in my hands, a coat that smells permanently of tree sap and pine branches, and aching muscles, but that was one of the most rewarding days I've had in a very long time.
It was awe-inspiring to see an entire city of people at work to clean up the damage. People brought out their pick-up trucks, saws, axes, shovels, and rakes, and cruised the streets looking for anyone who needed their help. Young people, like me, who didn't have any equipment, just added extra hands to the loading and unloading. Many of the women who had children to look after helped by bringing warm muffins, cookies, and gallon after gallon of hot chocolate to everyone else.
I don't always have the opportunity to serve like that. The pressures of working everyday, saving money, and trying to find transportation make it hard to find the time.
Well, I'll try to summarize some of the major things going on right now.
You may or may not have heard about the windstorms in Davis County on December 2. I did. I heard the winds themselves, howling around my window for about 10 hours straight. Bountiful wasn't the worst hit, but it did get slammed pretty hard by the gusts.
I've lived through tornadoes, earthquakes, even flooding (yes, Mom, remember when the creek in the greenbelt in Michigan overflowed and crept up through the trees until we could see it from our backyard? Yep, I remember that, and it freaked me out a little back then.) But those winds were scary.
You've probably read a lot about the stats of the windstorm. If you didn't, you can. There are definitely news articles about it. Hurricane-force winds will do a lot of damage when they blow steadily for 8-10 hours.
Most of the damage came in the form of pine trees falling over. You couldn't go more than a block without seeing at least one big tree lying at the wrong angle. So on Sunday, at the request of the area authorities, all of the wards either canceled or shortened their church meetings, and everyone went out to serve. A big windstorm was expected to kick up again on Sunday night, which contributed to the urgency, but, like the Mammoth Blizzard of 2010, it ended up being extremely underwhelming. Though in this case, no one in Davis County was the least bit disappointed about that. The county is still recovering from the first windstorm and none of us wanted a second one.
So I and a group of my friends went out to one of the debris-dumping sites and unloaded branches and stumps from all of the trucks that came through. If I'd tried to keep count of the number of trucks and trailers we unloaded (which I didn't) I definitely would have lost count. Hundreds. We filled up a church-sized parking lot with debris. I have scratches on my legs, pine-needle-pricks in my hands, a coat that smells permanently of tree sap and pine branches, and aching muscles, but that was one of the most rewarding days I've had in a very long time.
It was awe-inspiring to see an entire city of people at work to clean up the damage. People brought out their pick-up trucks, saws, axes, shovels, and rakes, and cruised the streets looking for anyone who needed their help. Young people, like me, who didn't have any equipment, just added extra hands to the loading and unloading. Many of the women who had children to look after helped by bringing warm muffins, cookies, and gallon after gallon of hot chocolate to everyone else.
I don't always have the opportunity to serve like that. The pressures of working everyday, saving money, and trying to find transportation make it hard to find the time.
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