Christmas Trees and Blonde Moments

Hi guys! I'm back again! Remember all that free time I said I had? Yep. Still have it. Cleaning my apartment and sending out resumes only takes up so much time when Roommate is gone. Also, I'm sort of  procrastinating taking my Christmas tree down.

Yes, it's the 9th of January. Judge me.

It's just so pretty. Did I ever show you a picture? No? Well here you go:

'Spretty, no?

Roommate picked out the colors this year, and I'm a big fan of them. Which is why I'm procrastinating taking it down. One month is not long enough to savor a lovely Christmas tree. But don't worry, I will take it down. This week. I think. Maybe.

In other news, the job hunt is going well. At least, my resumes are procuring interviews, so that's awesome. I'm just making sure I'm staying occupied during my downtime. It is nice to have the freedom to get a lot of things done without having to schedule them in minute-by-minute into an already-full day.

Oh my gosh this post is boring.

Let's see... how to spice things up...

Shall I tell you my recent blonde moment? Yes, I think I shall.

So once upon a time, my father bought a Blu-Ray player. Ever since then, he has been praising its superiority up and down. I'm a bit of a movie purist myself, so I can see his point. I finally put "blu-ray player" on my own Christmas wishlist (and Dad, being beyond awesome, actually got one for me, even though it was the priciest thing on my list—Dad, you're the best). I'd gotten smart and started buying blu-ray/DVD combos of new movies since the price difference was like, fifty cents.

Then I got a blu-ray player for Christmas. And had a panic attack.

WHAT ABOUT MY REGION 2 DVDS??? (Because I'm impatient and couldn't wait for BBC to release Merlin seasons 4 and 5 in the States) I SPECIFICALLY HAVE A REGION-FREE DVD PLAYER FOR THEM! OH NOES! I'm going to have to replace them with American DVDs or Blu-rays. THAT'S GOING TO COST SO MUCH!

Seriously.

It was stressing me out so bad. Yes, I'm aware that it's hilarious that I reached a stress breaking-point over movies. The things that rile us up, honestly.

Anyway, the brick dropped on my head right about then.

Duh, Lynnae. You can have more than one device plugged in. It's not like you have to throw away the other one just because you got a shiny new blu-ray player. You're a moron.

So the silly girl plugged both devices in, and now she can watch her region 2 DVDs, her blu-rays, and her boring normal DVDs whenever she wants. Ta-da!

That's my story.

And hopefully that's the diztiest thing I'll do this month.

No promises though.

2013, The Lynnae Perspective

So... I haven't written in two months. Most of you might have given up on me. But I have some free time on my hands (more deets later), so you might actually get more updates now.

Alright! Now that my almost-every-post apology is out of the way, on to the fun stuff! I sucked at it last year, but I have this thing where I try to give a brief, by-the-numbers recap of my previous year, just to summarize things and help me set my own stage for a new year (I did rock it in 2011 and 2012). So here is 2013 In Review.

ZERO boyfriends this year. This is a data point that has both blessed my life immensely and made it incredibly difficult. It's no secret that being single can be tough, no matter how good you get at it. Deep down, we crave companionship and support, and I am no exception. That means that certain aspects of this last year have been exceptionally painful, and I've struggled. But at the same time, I have learned how to find peace, happiness, and fulfillment on my own, with very little help from the usual sources, which is an incredible gift. I wouldn't change it for anything.

ONE amazing roommate for one year (plus a few months!). Aisley and I have had an adventure when it comes to figuring out how to live together (in some ways, living with just one person is harder than living with five other people, because you can't just ignore the roommates who are bothering you: if you're not getting along, there's no one else to mediate or diffuse the situation, and everything you do affects the other roommate). But we're figuring it out and learning a ton about ourselves and each other in the process. And I've gained a lifetime friend out of it. 

TWO years working on the 2013 Edition of the Scriptures, which finally ended in December. That project has made a huge difference in my life. I did that instead of full-time missionary service, and it's the best thing I've ever done with my life. There were ups and downs (a few of them chronicled here), but I wouldn't change any of it for anything in the world. As a result, leaving that job hurt. I miss it. I loved it. It has become a part of me that I'll always carry around, and I can only hope that I find something else as rewarding as that was.

THREE of us Jackson siblings living in Utah now. Jess is in Provo, living and working, and Brian is back from his mission, studying at BYU. I love having them close by. Brian takes such good care of me, and I can't possibly repay him for any of it.

FOUR times that my roommate has pranked the entire apartment out of revenge because I left her alone and went on vacation for too long (read: four days is too long in her opinion). Don't ever wonder why I love living with her. I'm never ever bored.

FIVE dagger or sword objects my roommate and I have on display in our house because both of us are happily nerdy and we take time often to indulge it. 

SIX thousand words written on a story that I started working on in November. That's a pittance compared to the typical word count of a novel, but it marks the first time that I've pursued a story idea into actual writing stage since high school. I may have decided to pursue editing instead of writing as my career, but I still have that starry-eyed 13-year-old girl dreaming of being an author hiding underneath, and she's getting to stretch her wings a little bit for the first time in years.

SEVEN members of my family, all back together in April, July, and over Christmas. I guess that's less of a huge deal for our family than it is for others, because none of us are married, so we don't really have anywhere else to spend holidays and vacation time, but it always matters to me. And I never know how much longer it will last, so I treasure it every single time.

EIGHT months until the two-year-anniversary of my going through the temple. Since it happened in 2012 and I didn't do one of these at the beginning of 2013, I have to fudge a little bit to make it work, but my endowment needs to be on this list. It has profoundly affected every other aspect of my life, and I could happily keep it on these lists for the rest of my life. Going through the temple has been one of the biggest, most personally sacred experiences of my life. It's something I'm grateful for every single day.

NINE petals on the fake flower bouquet I still have sitting in my room from my best friend's wedding, which happened in February 2013. She's the first one of our Terrific Trio from my college days to get married, and being her maid of honor was a major highlight of this last year.

TEN years ago, I met my best friend. She has been the one of the most important people in my life ever since then. Ten years is an impressive feat for both of us, since we both grew up moving around every few years, and both of us have made and lost track of many many friends over the years. There is so much solidarity that comes from having someone I can count on no matter what. Thanks, Q, for being there for me as much as my for-real siblings are.

Lesson Learned - The most important thing this year has taught me is that the best, most lasting happiness has to start with me. My friends, my family, and my romantic relationships all can contribute, but it's my choice that matters the most.

It's been a tough year, but I've discovered that the tough years usually yield the richest blessings and longest-lasting lessons. Whether this coming year contains the same kind of struggles as last year, or new ones stemming from things that completely alter my life, the lessons will all be worth it.

Last year and all the years before it have helped me learn what I'm capable of, and the best part is that my capacity grows every year. I face tougher challenges, but I also experience greater blessings each year. It truly is only uphill from here. It always will be uphill.

I'm ready for a wonderful year. Hello, 2014.

To You From Me With Love

Happy Valentine's Day.

A Ghost Story

Happy Halloween! Here's a "ghost story" for you. 



May you give many scares this jolly Hallow's Eve.

Move Over, Ben & Jerry

I have a new lover, and his name is Almond Joy Cocoa.

After our excursion to the haunted village (which was far less haunted than the corn maze, which was far less haunted than the places I went in high school) we stopped to calm our racing hearts with some deliciously soothing hot chocolate and they had Almond Joy creamer, which is possibly the best idea I've ever heard of.

I'm happy.

Me and my little cup of heaven.

Incidentally, I vastly under appreciated the pleasure of going haunted housing with guys. I never did it in high school, and I think this is the first year I've done it since I started college. But they are fun. In that he-might-protect-you-or-he-might-join-in-scaring-you kind of way. Adds a whole new dimension to the adrenaline rush. (A Whole New World is playing in my head at the moment. Thought you ought to know.)

The evening was spontaneous. The chocolate was delicious. Remind me to send the Cardinal a note. (Props if you can name the movie quote I'm referring to)

Happy evening and I wish chocolatey dreams and warm fuzzies on all of you.

Father's Day

Yeah, yeah, I know. Blogging is apparently not my strong suit anymore.

But I'm back again because today is Father's Day, and I like to get my thoughts down about it every year.

I'm always grateful for my dad. He's an amazing man whose example has helped to bring me to where I am today. I love that he's my best friend and that I can talk to him about anything.

Right now, especially, I am so grateful for him. I haven't written as much recently because I'm entering a phase of a lot of uncertainty, and the few things that I am certain of involve some changes that scare me a little bit.

I'm not usually afraid of change. My family has moved around so much that I'm accustomed to it, and I even, occasionally, get wanderlust and want to change things up. But I'm facing the first time that I may have to do a major move without my family by my side, and it scares me quite a bit.

My father, who has faced down far scarier things than I have, never fails to lend me some of his strength and conviction that things are going exactly how they need to be.

Words are honestly failing me right now. I can't begin to express what the example of my father has meant for me through all these years. I have so many treasured memories. Whether they involve curling up next to him during a movie (which, sadly, the new couch they have prevents me from doing) or our newer tradition of taking a long, peaceful drive along the prettiest roads we can find in his Mustang every time I come home. Other, more sacred memories come from the father's blessings, quiet nighttime conversations and counsel, and late night phone calls. I am who I am because of my dad. The strength that people see in me comes from him.

On a lighter note, I've been saving this particular comic strip for today, because I'm sure my dad is endlessly grateful that none of his kids do this to him, even though we may want to.

Easter

I know I haven't been blogging very often. There are a lot of reasons for that, many of them having to do with personal struggles. But today is Easter, and it means more to me this year than I think it ever has.

I've never been much into the chocolate, bunnies, and eggs for Easter. You can probably credit that to my parents, who have never been big on it either. Because of that, Easter has only had one prominent meaning for me: the Resurrection. I didn't usually have chocolate or baskets to look forward to, and it did mean that Easter didn't hold a ton of significance for me as a kid, because I didn't really understand the Atonement back then.

But as I've gotten older and come to understand how much I need Christ, Easter has started to become one of my favorite times of the year. This year, I've been thinking a lot about how my Savior sees me.

That may sound a little odd. But I know how I feel about Him. And the more I study the Atonement, the more I realize that I am absolutely nothing without Him. But that often leads to those terrible feelings of not being good enough to deserve that kind of love, especially when I've been struggling in other areas of my life.

But this whole weekend, I've been trying to forget how inadequate I feel and focus on how the Lord feels about me. It helps that my wonderful, amazing missionary brother seems to be having the same feelings of inadequacy that I have. It's easy to see how the Lord feels about Brian, because it's a magnification of the love I feel for him. I would move heaven and earth to lighten my brother's load and show him that he hasn't given me any reason to be disappointed in him. Even his struggles have made me love him all the more. I know the Lord's feelings about my brother are unfathomably deeper than my own.

If I can see the Lord's never-failing love for my brother, doesn't it make sense that He feels the same about me, inadequate though I am? I wish I could explain how I feel. For a girl who has made words her life, this is one subject that I can never do justice to. Words fail me every single time.

But I know this. That it's okay to look up at heaven and cry out, "I can't do this anymore." It's okay to be like the father of a stricken boy who looked up at the mortal Christ with pleading eyes and begged, "Help thou my unbelief." Faith was a prerequisite to the miracle that father sought, but he knew he was weak. When Jesus asked him if he had faith, he answered yes. But there seems to be an unwritten exchange in that moment, in which the father reevaluates himself and then says some of the sweetest words ever uttered, "Help thou my unbelief."

What I love most about that story is that Christ heals the boy, knowing that weak as it was, the father's faith was still enough.

It's okay to ask the Lord to be our strength because ours has run out.

That's when He wraps His arms around you and lifts both you and your heavy load. And at His touch, you suddenly realize that the warmth of His closeness is utterly familiar to you, because He's always been right there, hands outstretched to brace you at the slightest stumble.

The weaknesses we feel, the self-doubt, and inadequacy, are our own feelings, not His. No amount of trial and error or personal failings can ever make Him turn away from us. Think of a person you dearly love who has struggled. Would you, even for a second, really consider giving up on them? Never. You may let them make their choices, but would you be there in an instant if they asked for your help? I hope the answer is yes. It certainly is yes when it comes to the Savior's attention to each of us.

You know, I have studied literary figures and heroes practically my whole life. And for all of their virtues, no hero ever comes close to being able to do for the people they serve and die for what Christ has done for every. single. person who has ever lived on this earth. For you. For me. Every day.

I love this song, and I think it sums up many of my feelings about the Savior on this most sacred and beautiful of days.



I love my Savior. I am nothing without Him, and yet He has made everything of me. I hope you all feel His love today especially, and every day.

Happy Easter

Planned

Guess what I'm doing on March 24th?

2011 By the Numbers

Welcome back! This is my obligatory Year in Review post, to help herald in 2012. Consider it my belated family-of-one Christmas letter. :)

ZERO set-in-stone plans for my future, and zero job offers, but I'm hopeful and remarkably content with things anyway.

ONE college degree. <--- Those three simple words carry so much emotion, stress, and achievement behind them. I did it. It's taken me my whole life, but I did it.

TWO unexpected answers to prayers that I never actually prayed---the first, I loved my capstone literary class, which was something I expected to just have to suffer through. Surprisingly, the Lord sort of tricked me into signing up for a class that would become the best one I've ever taken (I seriously thought I'd signed up for a different section than the one I got). The second, I found a best friend in Bountiful, which was a prayer I hoped for, but never actually had the courage to say aloud. After all, you can only have so many best friends, right? I figured I was full-up on my quota of people who love me unconditionally. Turns out I was wrong.

THREE Boatright sisters who seem to have had a goal this year to prove to me that I have so much more family than genetics would indicate. Qait is a given, of course, but Maddie, Abby, and Rae have all shown the same kind of sisterly love and attachment. It may sound silly, but I always feel surprised and touched to find out that people love me as much as I love them.

FOUR months spent at the Ensign, which has been the most rewarding experience of my life.

FIVE years since I graduated from high school. Exactly. I finished high school in December of 2006. I feel only a little nostalgic about this. This year also marked the first time I spent Thanksgiving with my family in five years. I felt much more nostalgic about this.

SIX months are up: My student loan payments start now. I only mention this because it connects to another major achievement this year: I'm financially stable. Well and truly financially stable. I've been providing for myself for the last 5 years, but there's a difference between paying for all your own stuff and knowing how to do it smartly. Thanks to some valuable lessons from my parents, and some trial-and-error on my part, I feel like I've figured out the latter---and it's come back to bless me as I face impending unemployment. 

SEVEN gorgeous decorative pillows that came with the bedding I bought for my new apartment in Bountiful. I moved out of Provo much sooner than I'd originally thought I would, but it seemed like the right thing to do, and I've been so blessed in my new life. Provo will always have a special spot in my heart (no matter how much people like to make fun of it), but it's good to move on.

EIGHT hours spent reading a whole book in one sitting. That's not my fastest time, but it marked the return of my time to read for pleasure back in May. Since then, I have luxuriated in all the time I have to read, and I've devoured so many books this year. It's probably my favorite part of being graduated. 

NINE months that Brian has been out on a mission. In that time, he has remained my best friend, and he continues to inspire me to be a better person, even though he's so far away.

TEN days on a houseboat on Lake Powell this summer, the best vacation that I ever had to be talked into. It reminded me again that my extended family is wonderful, and they're happy to be there for me when my immediate family is miles and miles away.

Lesson Learned - The biggest thing I've learned from this past year? It's that the Lord guides our every step if we let Him. And He knows a better trail through the woods than we do. I have had my prayers answered and my dreams fulfilled (or helped out, if they haven't been fulfilled yet) in ways I never would have thought, but looking back, it makes a lot more sense than my plan did. The people I've worked with at the Church Magazines all have amazing stories of how they ended up doing what they're doing. When it comes down to it, I think everyone does. When you look back and see how your life has led up to the point it's at, it can be pretty amazing. To me, it's proof that my steps have been guided.

I had no way of knowing back when I joked with my high school classmate about editors and authors (ironically, she wanted to be the editor and I wanted to be the author---both of us have switched, now) that the knowledge we gained compiling seemingly useless trivia would actually contribute to me finding out that I really wanted to be an editor. Nor could I have guessed that jobs I thought were random and not really directly in my career path have actually made my career possible.

It gives me hope that my current choices, as shot-in-the-dark-ish as they feel to me, will yield similar results. The Lord knows where He wants me. The lessons I've learned this last year have made it possible to handle the pressure I'm facing now, at the start of 2012.

I look forward to yet another year of amazing experiences.

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.

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. 

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.)

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. ;)

Sacrificing a Marshmallow Virgin

These photos are belated. By exactly a week. We sacrificed a marshmallow virgin (don't ask--I'm not even sure I want to know) on Squaw Peak on the summer solstice and this is the photographic evidence. Kind of.

We have a new roommate! Allow us to introduce Emily! She's pretty awesome. (And she's the second one from the left)

Savannah attempting to light the marshmallow virgin (five marshmallows stuffed onto a stick figure)

We then threw marshmallows in the air (thus feeding the wildlife and appeasing the buggy hunger that was rampant up there) and did our own terrible renditions of "rain dances" or whatever ritual dance you can think of.

Part of me is inclined to feel slightly embarrassed by our silliness. The rest of me loves it. I have to be a responsible adult soon. So I'm living it up while I can. :)

On the bright side, we could have done far worse (a la Midsummer Night's Dream) on the summer solstice.

Achievement

On this day, the summer solstice of 2011, I have achieved something. I finally made it up to Squaw Peak overlook and did not use it as a make-out spot. Okay, so that was two things. I've never been up on the overlook before. And when I did, I did not use it for its stereotyped purpose.

I have also still never hiked the Y. To the shame and horror of BYU students everywhere. Sorry guys.

Also, we sacrificed a marshmallow in honor of the pagan holiday that is the summer solstice. Not sure if that counts as an achievement or not.

Pieces of an Extraordinary Man

As you all know, today is Father's Day. Truth be told, I'd forgotten about it until I was on the road home from Logan. But by then, I was driving through what can only be described as a solid sheet of water coming out of the sky, and the thought of doing anything but paying attention to the road never even crossed my mind.

Anyway, I've been thinking about what I'd like to tell the world about my father. To put it simply, there's far too much to really accurately capture what my father means to me. He is my hero. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. I wouldn't be where I am today without him.
 
A father's success is often measured by the success of his family. I'm not saying that I'm some monumental success or anything, but I would have achieved far less without his guidance. These are some of the small but meaningful ways my dad has blessed my life:
 
When I was eight, my parents gave me my first set of scriptures. I'd seen my mom's scriptures all marked up, and I wanted to do the same. Unfortunately, I was too young to know much about what to mark, but I did know that I could mark my parents' favorite scriptures. So I asked Daddy what his favorite scripture was. Now, I'm sure he has many favorites, but the one he told me was Alma 37:37:

Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day.

I marked it (a little messily) in bright pink in my scriptures all those years ago. But even more important than those pink, shaky lines in my battered set of scriptures was the fact that I saw my dad live that verse everyday. He still does. I remember it not because I colored it in my scriptures, but because my dad told me it was his favorite verse and then proved it by living it. Through every move, every job or calling change, every child with a problem to be solved, my dad has sought the Lord's counsel and direction in leading his family, and we have been incredibly happy and blessed because of it, regardless of what life is like. Because of that example, I have learned to do the same.
 
Once, during high school, I had a terrible day. It was a culmination of a few months' worth of building pressure and uncertainty. When I finally fell apart (during church, no less), my father leaned over and whispered in my ear that we could leave and go find somewhere to talk. I agreed, and we went and sat in the car. Those precious moments in that Ford Expedition are still among my favorite memories with my dad. That conversation changed my life in some very profound ways. It changed how I viewed my relationships with other people, how I viewed myself, and what I wanted to accomplish in life. If I've ever made you smile because I said something nice, or if I noticed you on a day when you felt invisible, it's because I learned how to do that from my dad, that day in our car. He still has this uncanny ability to notice when I need him, even when he's thousands of miles away. I can't count the number of times he has called me at exactly the right moment, just in time to remind me that he will always love me.

For as long as I can remember, my dad has never failed to show my mom that he loves her. When we were younger, he'd walk in the door and we'd come running to give him hugs and kisses. He was really good about not pushing us away or treating us harshly, but he never let us forget that Mom got his attention first. Once he'd kissed her and said hello, then he'd give us proper hugs and loves. By the time I hit high school, I was well-accustomed to shadowing Dad into the kitchen, where he'd greet Mom. When he finished, I'd sneak in for my hug.
 
I used to think my dad wasn't romantic. I distinctly remember telling my mom that I wanted to marry a man just like Dad--except maybe a bit more romantic. I have no idea whatever possessed me to think that. Maybe I was just too young to realize how much he did for my mom. From showing up on the doorstep with a dozen roses (instead of coming in through the garage door) after work, to doing the dishes for her, to pushing us kids out of the room so that he could give her a proper kiss (though he usually didn't wait for us to leave the room before he did), he's always treated her with the utmost devotion and respect. That show of affection and love spread from both of my parents to us, allowing me and my siblings to grow up in a home filled to the brim with love and a feeling of safety.
 
There is so much more that I can say. Anyone who knows me  has heard me talk about my father, because he (and my mom) are so much more than just the people who raised me. They are my best friends. Both of them. I can pick up the phone and call either of them at any time to tell them anything. A lot of times I'll end up calling them both and telling them the same stories, because I love talking to them.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: my father is probably the most Christlike man I know. He loves me in spite of my shortcomings, my silly moments of overthinking, and my occasional forgetfulness. He always teaches me with the gentleness that I've come to associate with my feelings of the Spirit. The Savior would do anything for us. Sometimes He lets us suffer, because we need to grow, but when we are suffering, He's always hovering nearby to fill in where we can't and remind us of our divine heritage. He loves us enough to make up the difference, even when we're positive we don't deserve it. I know my Savior because I know my father. On a mortal scale, he has done all of these things for me. The deeply personal connection that I feel with my Heavenly Father is only possible because I have a mortal father who loves me the same way that my Eternal Father does.

So if you ever wonder how I became who I am today, let me point you straight on to the man who raised me. If I can be half the parent to my children that he has been to me, I will be extremely fortunate. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.

One Good Woman

Life is hard. Things go wrong and fall apart. We cry. We get our hearts broken. Our dreams evaporate in front of us. But in my life, I've always had the support of one amazing woman who gets me through everything.

She answers my late-night calls and sits up with me when I need a good cry.

She sends me notes filled with love and reassurance at the most unexpected and most opportune moments.

She believes in me when my own faith grows frail and weak in the face of trials.

She celebrates with me when I accomplish something.

She never, ever holds me back from my dreams, no matter how far they may take me away from her.

Never once, has she turned away from me when I needed her.

My mother. Hands down the most wonderful woman in the world. She is a powerful example of the influence one good woman can have on the lives of the people around her. I can't begin to name the people whose lives she's blessed, because no matter where we live, or how long we live there, she reaches out to everyone around her.

The young women of the Westland ward. I still remember climbing over backyard fences and ducking behind bushes as she took them (and five-year-old me) ding-dong ditching with plates of goodies. Some of her girls were my favorite babysitters.

The youth of the Lapeer ward. I remember watching her pour herself into her Sunday School lessons as she tried so hard to reach those quiet, reserved 12 & 13 year olds.

All the women of the Bettendorf ward. I watched her pray over her women and organize Visiting Teaching on a big silver magnetic board. I learned from her to always seek the Lord's counsel in our callings. She also blessed all the young college families in that ward. I can't remember very many Sundays when we didn't have someone over to our house to share Sunday dinner with us. She was always so willing to share our bounty with those around us.

I wish I could go on about her California and Texas wards, but I haven't spent much time there now that I'm out here at school. Naturally, I never hear anything but glowing reports from women in Relief Society about how wonderful my mom is. They may not know me, and I don't know them, but they know my mom, and they always love her.

My family. My friends. People I barely know. I have never met anyone who didn't have something wonderful to say about my mother. She is fun, she is loving, she is faithful. So many of my crucial life lessons have been taught to me by her.

And she's my best friend. When I was 13, we went for a late-night swim in our neighborhood swimming pool. It was just the two of us, and I remember us laughing at the big, clumsy junebugs dive-bombing the water and struggling until we flicked them out. All of a sudden, she snuck up on me and dunked me right under the water, laughing the whole time. I came up for air and she came after me again, and we began a game of tag all around that pool. That was the first time I met Marcy, the woman behind "Mom." As we dried off, we had a long talk about things that I don't remember now, but that was the moment that we were no longer just mother and daughter; now we were friends, too.

Ever since then, my mom has been my confidante, my guide, my mentor, and my example. She never failed to discipline me or to correct my errors, but she also never failed to show me how much she loved me. Because of that, I learned that there was nothing I could ever do to push her away. I trust the unfailingness of her love more than I trust the sun to rise everyday. Because someday the sun may stop rising, but I am sealed to my mother for eternity, and her love for me extends into that infinity.

Her constant faith in me, her ability to see my potential when I'm drowning in my own doubts has given me a clearer understanding of how my Heavenly Father sees me. I understand that it is entirely possible for someone to love me, no matter how despicable I may feel at the time, because I see it every day in my mother (my father, too, but this is Mother's Day: it's about mom). I haven't committed any grave sins in my life, but I've made my share of whopper mistakes. Through it all, she has never treated me with anything but the utmost love, pushing me to be a better person.

All it takes is one good woman to create a big change in the world. When I look out and see my potential, what I hope to accomplish, I see a way that my mother will be able to change the world. My younger brother, a brilliant scientific mind and an incredibly faithful missionary, has an even brighter future than I do. He is going to do great things with his life. My younger sister, with all her love and nurturing power. My baby brothers, whose futures are still open books. All of us will make a difference, and that is only possible because we have been raised and taught by one good woman.

Fackeltanz!

Let me just begin by saying that I. Love. the. Festival of Colors! And who wouldn't? A million packages of colored, scented chalk dust chucked into the air, with an uncanny propensity to be inhaled and choked on. Who wouldn't love that? Okay, so a lot of people wouldn't. But it's a blast to get completely coated in neon-colored powder.

Savannah, Michelle, Kristina, my date, and I went to the first color throwing this morning, wading through snow (which turned to mud by the time we finished). But when you cram a couple thousand people onto a hillside, you stop worrying about snow.

This is our before shot. Trust me. The after shots are pretty obvious. By this time, we'd finished this crazy awesome Hindu dance that got us sweating, so we definitely didn't notice the cold anymore. Probably a good thing.

The festivities start with live music, dancing, and, if you know where to find it, more information about the legends behind the festival. And, to keep ourselves amused, we smear each other with chalk.

The handprints on the butts... that was me. What can I say? I'm trouble. ;)

Then, there's a big countdown (and a sudden surge in the number of people attempting to bodysurf... which is inconvenient) and everyone throws whatever chalk they haven't smeared on their comrades into the air. The sky goes dark (well, purpleish brown), the air suddenly becomes saturated with more powder than even a healthy person should probably be allowed to inhale. After several minutes, most of the dust settles and you emerge looking something like this:

Favorite part about this picture? The guy in the background, joining in our picture. We were less emotive, but that's about how we felt. :)

Some of our original smearing still shows, but we were wearing white, if you recall.

Assuming you don't have face coverings or the presence of mind to keep your mouth closed, you come out looking like a dentist's worst nightmare and suddenly your skin is several shades darker than it should be. You can't escape it, you can't run from it. You just jump in the middle and get as dirty as you possibly can. And if you do happen to look cleaner than most, well, there are a couple hundred clever people (including me, this year) who keep at least one bag of colored chalk in reserve to dump on you and solve the problem of looking too clean at Holifest.

Which is funny, because I did actually manage to look cleaner this year than I did last year. My shirt still looks marginally white.

So I guess that's proof that you can come out of Holifest with salvageable clothing. (Which is good, because even though I bought that pink undershirt to destroy it, I actually kind of like it, so I want to get it clean again). Granted, you'll be sneezing purple boogers for a few days, your hair will turn the shower water purple for at least five minutes, and you may or may not find neon colors under your nails.

But you know what? It's totally worth it! I'm probably not doing a very good job of convincing you, but that's okay. Some people hate being dirty. They don't go. For me, it's a great excuse to get dirty, since my cozy desk job and magazine class don't exactly provide many opportunities for that.

And Holifest is a celebration of springtime (ironic, with the freshly fallen snow on the ground...) which means that it officially marks the beginning of my summer adventures, which will hopefully include hot springs, lava tubes, canyoning, camping, and waterfalls, and, if I'm very very lucky, spelunking.

Oh, and for the record, "fackeltanz" is a German word that basically has to do with torchlit wedding processions for German royals. But we discovered it playing Balderdash and our favorite definition was more along the lines of "maseltov," so the nuance kind of stuck. So throw some imaginary confetti in the air, waggle your fingers and say "fackeltanz!" I promise it will make you feel smiley.

Or maybe that's just me. The word nerd loves new words, and they always make her smile.

Oh Yeah, Green

I just remembered that today is Saint Patrick's day. Fortunately, I'm playing night-owl again and writing this at the extreme beginning of the day, but... still. Good thing I remembered in time to actually do something about wearing green, right? Assuming I don't get swept away into dreams when I do in fact go to bed and forget all about the whole green thing.

That's pretty much the extent of my thoughts tonight.

Yep.

Sometimes I really enjoy having uncomplicated thoughts running through my head. It's actually a bit of a relief from the large amounts of thinking I have to do the rest of the time.

Ramblings of the New Year

So it's a new year and, just to be rebellious, I did not write a New Year's Day post. Though truthfully, I did in fact think about it. However, after successfully batting my eyes at my dad and using the "Daddy, I'm leaving today and you won't see me for awhile" card to get him to take us to Tangled and order out for pizza, I pretty much went straight to the airport on New Year's day and flew home. So I was a bit busy that day. And can I just say that I like that particular daughter card? It works almost every time. ;)

Life has been pretty good. I'm actually surprisingly excited about starting school again (can't wait for my editing classes to start). It also helps that I had a date today to go snowshoeing. A second date. Which, my roommates were quick to point out, was the same circumstance at the beginning of a very successful seven-month relationship. Oh roomies. So quick to matchmake me.

You know, a quick side note on the whole romance thing: I've decided not to worry about it. There are nice guys to date, best guyfriends to hang with, and all in all, I've got some things on my plate that are more important in the sense that I actually have full control over them. So I'll worry about those and let the Lord figure out the rest. And that pretty much sums up my dating philosophy.

Though others may consider it a little strange, I'm also looking forward to starting work again. My boss emailed me my new work schedule today so that I wouldn't forget which hours I'd told her I'd work (I love that I get to set my own hours, by the way), and I felt a little swoop of excitement. Granted, the fact that I love what I do, that I'm doing what I love, and that I love who I'm working with, all definitely contribute to my overall enjoyment of work.

And yes, I'm fully aware that this is a rather meandering post. I find that I have more fun with less-structured writing sometimes. Don't worry though, I'm batting around ideas for how to write creatively as well. Because, being me, I get frustrated when I sink into a writing rut, where everything sounds pretty much the same. I like changing things up. So welcome to the new year. 2011 holds all the promise and change that I've been waiting for. :)