Happy 2015! plus, Life Update!

Wow. I've been worse at blogging this year than ever before. Conversely, I've been better at journaling in an actual journal. You know, the kind that only you and your kids ever see. I rocked at that this year. It seems blogging and journaling have an inverse relationship for me. So, I need to do my annual year-in-review post and then hopefully fill you in on the rest of my life. So off we go!

ZERO, the number of roommates I'll have this coming year, since I finally got my very own apartment. I signed for it over Christmas! It's also the number of vacuums I have for said new apartment, though I have pretty much everything else I need. ;)

ONE queen bed, plus a bedroom set, that I bought for myself this year. Goodbye, cramped little twin bed! I'm sleeping in a bedroom that looks like it belongs to an adult, and I'm a little bit a lot happy about that. Also, bright side, I will have ONE guest bed for friends and family to sleep in when they come to visit me now!

TWO siblings on missions: Jess in Germany and Ben in Guatemala. We talked to both of them over Christmas, and I am so unbelievably proud of their faith and dedication in serving the Lord. It's so cool to have them both out at the same time. 

THREE months ago, I started volunteering at the Bountiful temple as an ordinance worker on Saturday evenings. It eats into my social life quite a bit, but I haven't once regretted it. The blessings I've received since I started have far outweighed any social inconvenience. I also have the opportunity to dust off my foreign language skills and learn the ordinances in Spanish to help with the Spanish session we have every Saturday. That's one of my New Year's resolutions. :)

FOUR days in Washington, DC for a business trip this last October. First, I have a job that sends me on business trips. How cool is that? Second, I haven't been to DC since I was five (and I vividly remember the giant fake penny that I got there that fell down a drainage grate after I got home--I stared mournfully through that grate for a few weeks after that, watching the mud pile up on that glint of copper at the bottom... wow, that is is a really vivid memory from 20 years ago...). Third, I got to meet my hilarious and wonderful team of editors (who are scattered all over the country) for the first time, and it felt like I'd known them for years. 

FIVE times five equals 25, which is how old I turned this last year, and it has been wonderful. From an excellent birthday surprise by Roommate to the insurance cuts that you get if you have a perfect driving record to finally figuring out a few more things about life and love, 25 has been an excellent year for me. It's probably been my favorite age so far. I almost don't want to turn 26, not because I don't want to get old, but because I'm not done being 25 yet.   

SIX Jacksons with full-fledged temple recommends (and Baby Brother super excited to do the same when he's older). When I was younger, I watched a lot of my cousins struggle and fall away from the Church, and I was always a little afraid that one of my siblings would, too. It's still a mild concern (enough that it keeps us lovingly bolstering each other's testimonies when times get hard), but my parents' incredible examples of faith and devotion to the Lord above everything else have clearly impacted me and my siblings and inspired us to set the same patterns for ourselves, including temple service. I find a lot of comfort in knowing that my brothers and sister can and will face difficulties with optimism and hope, no matter what comes their way. 

SEVEN months ago, I finally, finally bought my first car! Her name is Phoebe, she's three years old, and I have no regrets about the amount of time I spent saving for her, because I was able to afford an almost-new, very nice car. It also frees me up to do a lot of things I couldn't do before.

EIGHT hours (give or take a little) of incredibly uplifting conversations with a man who completely changed my mind about pretty much all of my dating fears. No, he's not still in my life, but he treated me better than I've been treated by a date in years, and he restored my excitement about dating in general. Go him! He was also proof that even a relatively tiny amount of time and effort can make a lasting impact on someone else. Little things can yield big results, even if you're not around to see them later. He won't ever know what he did, but I know, and my future family will be blessed by it. (Cheesy, I know, but it's true.)

NINE hours and forty minutes: the length of the drive Brian and I took to Sacramento for Thanksgiving, which marked Phoebe's first road trip (she did wonderfully well), AND the first time in five years that I've been able to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with my immediate family, since my parents and baby brother flew to meet us in Sacramento to spend the holiday with our Granddad, who lives in El Dorado.

TEN months at an incredible job. I know! TEN MONTHS! It's flown by so fast. I still love it as much as I did when I started, and I'm still content with the idea of working here for the rest of my life. That is a blessing I'm constantly thankful for. I love loving what I do for work. :)

Lesson Learned - This year has been a year of dreams come true. Yes, I've still had challenges and struggles (that's normal), but looking back over this year, I am overwhelmed by how many things fell into place this year. Last year, I learned that my happiness starts with me, and now, after another year of putting that into practice, I am amazed by how good this year has been! Dreams DO come true. They absolutely do. Sometimes, we have to work through a lot of pain and suffering before they do, but if it matters to us, it matters to God, and He'll help us make it happen.

And the other thing I've learned this is year is that my dreams (and yours) are worth the wait. Patience pays off. If it takes longer than you expect, then you'll appreciate it more when you do get it. My incredible job means a lot more to me because I worked through stressful, tenuous employment for two years beforehand. I appreciate my car more because I worked so hard for it (and even gave up the chance to buy a few times before I finally did). Don't ever give up on your dreams; the reality is so much better than your imagination could ever make it. 2014 was a fantastic year. 2015 will be incredible too, even if hard things happen.  It always gets better. ^_^

Guess What I've Been Doing?

Hello, friends!

So I haven't waited two months before blogging again. Go me.

I've managed to keep myself at least moderately busy, so the cabin fever isn't raging. (It helps that job-hunting requires a lot of work.)

What have I been up to? I figured I'd give you a brief summary, but I'm going to make this just a little interesting, because I'm not going to spell each thing out, which means you might have to guess a little. Plus, blow-by-blow accounts on goings on usually bores me when I write about them, so this gives me greater amusement.

1. Over the course of two days, I outsmarted a killer robot bent on revenge for me destroying her over Christmas break. With a gun that doesn't shoot ordnance. Which prompted Roommate to do this:

2. I dodged a dead end, though rationally (and financially), I probably should have gone down it. I don't regret it, though.

3. I sat on the edge of my seat through space battles and the destruction of an alien race while eating Red Vines to help me maintain composure.

4. I kidnapped my brother's vehicle so that I could dress up all fancy and talk to people about how awesome I am. (Bonus: they thought so, too, but please refer to item # 2.)

5. I rode the train to Bountiful, but had to be chased by my little brother in his car so that I could get into my apartment when I got there.

6. I dug through my family history and have produced very important cards that will be printed out pink, blue, and yellow, which I plan to take care of as soon as possible.

7. I can no longer technically put 0 for the same thing as I did last year.

8. Roommate and I have created a few new things that our children will probably consider tasty traditions someday.

9. I have been considering the possible ramifications of a slightly inept fairy godmother showing up in my room to grant me three wishes and have concluded that I probably wouldn't actually wish for anything. I learn through other people's mistakes. :)

10. Lastly, I saw this:

And this:

And this:

I've had an enjoyable couple of weeks. :)

(Stories on relevant items to follow later.)

Aaaand She Makes Another Comeback Attempt

Well hello! Welcome back!

Or, well, welcome back to me, since you guys probably checked this more often than I did.

Actually, that's probably not true. I've guiltily glanced at this blog almost every day since I last posted and then closed the tab to pretend that my negligent posting problem didn't exist. But since I usually don't enjoy journaling, and I do enjoy blogging more, I probably should stop living in denial and just suck it up and post. I don't know why I think I don't have time. I managed to blog a lot during college.

Oh right. I did that to procrastinate homework.

Hm. I don't really have anything to procrastinate anymore. Is that my problem?

I'll just procrastinate sorting that out and finish this post. Ha.

So what's new?

I have new jeans. That's probably only relevant to me. Although, if I had a boyfriend, I suppose I could get him to appreciate the cute pattern on the back pockets. Did I just say that out loud? Whoops. But seriously, I haven't bought new jeans in about three years, and my proportions have certainly changed in that time. It's nice to have a pair that fits really well all over instead of being baggy in weird places. Self-esteem=way up. That's why it matters.

I went to Lake Powell with my family. Nope, it doesn't look like it. I'm not tanner or redder or anything. I may have slightly overdone the sunscreening... What can I say? I'd rather be pasty white than Kentucky Fried Chicken.

The best part of my Powell trip?

This.

Yes, that's a sand castle model of Middle Earth. Yes, my brothers and I built the whole thing. Pretty much from memory. Are we nerds?

DANG STRAIGHT.

It took us two days, and it's probably one of the proudest accomplishments of my life. Which is saying something, considering I have a career and a college degree under my belt. And considering my brothers did most of the sculpting, because I suck at it. I just drew the blueprints. And made a million tiny clay balls for trees in Mirkwood.

I won't overload you with pictures here. The rest will be on Facebook. But here's a couple of my very favorites.

Here's an idea of the scope of the thing. Plus, you get to see my three very awesome and adorable brothers. Lucky you. Conveniently enough, they're in order of age from left to right. They're also showing off the things that they sculpted. Not that you can tell what exactly they're pointing at, but still.

Ben is an artist. This is probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Not bad for wet sand, eh?

He's also a dork. But he's my dork, so I love him. Points if you know what he's doing here.

And of course, the journey shot. Isengard to Mordor. With a little glimpse of our perfect cove in the background. 

We had the best spot in all of Lake Powell. Tiny cove, no outlet, plenty of shade, big sandy beach. It was perfection. I suck a water sports, but I'm definitely a sun, sand, water, and beach kind of girl. I love this kind of camping. Being up in a mountain amidst all the trees and clouds is nice too, but this, this I love.

I have a new phone. (Yes, I'm still telling you a list of what's new--I just paused to show you Middle Earth) Since I love using it, I might be more likely to stay in touch with people. That's important. I guess.

In about half an hour, I'm going to get my hair recolored to the dark brown I love so much. You may not care, but I'm also a little proud of the fact that it's the longest I've ever had it and when the dark brown is in it, it kinda looks like chocolate. And that is awesome.

I finally went to the Manti Temple, where my parents were married, for the first time since I received my endowment. It is, hands down, my favorite temple. Plus it was really cool to feel so close to my parents, even though they're still in Texas right now. It was like I'd taken a little journey into their love story. Awww!

Other than that, life is good. I get a legally-required two-week break from work while they change up my contract (still the same job, though), and it's been nice to get a lot of things done around home and in my personal life that I haven't had the time or energy for before this.

I'm going to try, really, really try, to blog more often. I like it. It's fun. Thanks for being patient with me. Love you all!

Symptoms

Sunburn.
Torn up feet.
Aching muscles (All. Over.)
Dirt under the fingernails.
Ruined pedicure.
Bruised knees.
Scratched arms.
Bug bites.
Hair smelling of campfire and lakewater.
A s'mores-and-burgers food baby.
Compulsive napping.

Doctor's diagnosis: Obviously the aftereffects of a run in with the AwesomeWardCampout virus. Activities that may induce this virus include, but are not limited to: Rock climbing, hiking, falling in the stream, running across gravelly beaches, diving into chilly reservoirs, getting thrown off a floating trampoline, pigging out on bonfire food, and generally doing all kinds of awesome things with others in a ward campout setting.

Bonus: I racked up a few Epicness Points on this trip for being the first girl up the boulders at the waterfall, and the first one to sprint over the beach and dive into the reservoir.

Needless to say, I'm exhausted, my body is plotting a riot in protest, and I need food more substantial than marshmallows in a desperate way, but I haven't been this happy-tired in a long time. Well worth all the box-elder bugs crawling on me all night.

To bed now. Happy sleeping!

Going Home

So, I'm flying home today! Granted, my flight attempt will be much more successful than this. But I thought I'd share it anyway. There's always room for more Calvin and Hobbes.

Valuable Lessons from Ice Blocking

We went ice blocking on Monday for Family Home Evening. I learned a few things, seeing as I'd never done it before.

Ice blocks are fast. And awesome.

All those jams, sudden stops, and flying off into the grass will leave your butt sore for days.

Trains of people are a really bad idea---just like they are for water slides or sledding. But they're also oh so much fun. And totally worth it. Although again, you may have bruises in unexpected places.

The secret to making it to the bottom of the hill every time? Converse. They're slickery on the bottom, so you can steer with your feet without the friction stopping you and sending the ice block rocketing out from under you.

All's fair in love and war? It's also all fair in ice blocking. Tackling the person next to you is an acceptable method to make sure that they don't win an ice blocking race. I was on both the giving and receiving ends of this one.

Being picked up and tumbled down the hill is apparently guyfriend-ese for "I love you, I really do."

If you roll down a hill fast enough, you can pop a knee and fly over someone else who is also rolling down the hill instead of crashing into each other. Although, that tends to mean your roll is now a Wesley-from-Princess-Bride-style tumble.



Yes, this is what I meant. It's fun though. If you can stand when you're done, which, point of interest, you can't. The world's too busy bucking underneath you.

Playing Swedish Twister (not in heels and a skirt this time!) in the dark is the fastest way to break in new RM's.

I have a crush. Yes, this is relatively new news to me. An unexpected flare of jealousy when he was talking to another girl finally clued me in. I haven't cared that much in a long time. It's oddly refreshing.

And, unrelated to ice blocking, I am in love with this man's voice. I may be sick of Adele, but I will listen to this song over and over again if he sings it.

Unexpected Plus about Skirts

Okay, so I can just imagine that someone, somewhere, will jump up on her soapbox and cry sexism at me for what I'm about to write. So be it.

Now, most people know by now that I wear a skirt, and most likely nylons and heels, six days a week. It's part of the dress code for work.

When I was a wee little thing, I hated skirts and dresses with a fiery passion. I would wriggle out of the blasted things almost the second we came home from church and often wore spandex shorts under said evilthings in church, just so I felt better about it. Much of that attitude translated into high school and college, not so much because the fiery passion was still there, but more because it was just habit by then. And it was kind of "cool" to not like staying in a dress all day on Sunday.

Fast forward to my senior year of college, when I got the Ensign internship. I was so excited! Except about the whole skirt thing. That I wasn't looking forward to so much. In fact, I was pretty sure it was going to suck.

However, much to my surprise, it hasn't. It didn't take very much time or effort to get used to being in a skirt all day. After that, I discovered that *gasp!* I actually kind of enjoy it. I behave better (not that I'm all that poorly behaved anyway) and I tend to carry myself straighter, too. It's been good for my posture.

And here's my favorite part (and the part certain brands of feminists may hate me for): men treat me better. I rarely have to stand on the bus, open a door for myself, or go to the back of a short line. I got on a very crowded bus the other day, and I'd barely finished tapping my pass on the scanner before one guy was off his seat and offering it to me. This is not an unusual occurrence. I've watched them do it for other well-dressed women as well. Some of the more gentlemanly guys will do it for any female, but I've noticed that the reaction is faster for a woman in a skirt and heels.

I love it. Not because I'm on a power trip as a woman or anything, but because I love that chivalry isn't dead. Some girls like to bemoan that it is. But I see proof every day on my way to work that it isn't. It's alive and kicking.

I think part of our problem (meaning us as women) is that we don't always act like women. There's something to be said for being graceful, gracious, and ladylike. Whether we like it or not, men respond to that. I'm not advocating a return to the restrictive roles of women as prim and proper ladies who weren't allowed to get their hands dirty, so to speak. Heavens no. I would suffocate in that kind of atmosphere. But I think there's a lot to be said for embracing your femininity and letting those men be men.

They like to do things for us. They like being courteous to us. (I mean it. They do. I've seen some of the most rough-looking, tattooed, grisly men be the first ones up to give a woman their seat on the bus. It's not just the well-dressed, clean-cut ones.) But while women have been fighting tooth and nail to get to their place in the working world (something that, I will admit, is justified in many cases), a lot of them have lost something along the way. And the men in our lives have gotten disoriented and confused because they're not sure how to treat us. Too often, we snap at them for sexism when they try to treat us differently than their male buds simply because we're women.

When they see a woman who is dressed up in heels, hose, and a skirt, something slips back into place, and they have a better idea of how to treat her, based on centuries of habit. And it shows.

Will I wear a skirt everywhere when I don't have to? No. I love my jeans, and I like wearing them around town. But I have definitely grown to appreciate that skirts are infinitely more feminine than jeans, and men are more likely to treat me like a woman when I wear them.

And you know what? I'm okay with that. I like being a woman.

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.

Aeropuerto

Guess who's online at the airport?

Me! That's who!

Airport wi-fi is the best. So I'm sitting here at my gate, nice and early, as I always like to be. And it's a little fun to people watch. Some girl across from me is helping a friend resolve drama over the phone, all while wearing super cute shoes. Two asians at my gate are dressed in fluorescent--and I mean eye-hurting fluorescent--yellow hoodies with fur-lined jackets over the top. Perhaps they are cold? And we're flying to Austin? Where the weather is....

Dude! Did you know Google makes their lightning bolts red instead of yellow? Random. And for some reason, that makes me happy.

Okay, for reals: the weather in Austin is supposed to be 108 and sunny. (Imagine me wheezy-gasping right now... heat and I aren't exactly great friends). So back to my point: the Asians are dressed like they're going to Alaska. And I'm confused. Because personally, I think I'd prefer Alaska temperatures to Texas temperatures. (Fun fact: my room in Bountiful is roughly the temperature of Alaska--I love it!)

Heh heh heh. Some lady is making good use of her bra-ket.

Anyway, in the middle of all this people watching, I'm struggling frantically to figure out what I've forgotten, because I have that horribly prickly feeling you get when you've left something behind on a trip. But I got through airport security just fine, so obviously I didn't forget my license and boarding pass...

Maybe it's just the up-in-the-air feeling of having just moved, too. I'm all kinds of un-settled (intentionally hyphenated, I promise). Savannah and I moved all of my stuff up to Bountiful last night and she was wonderfully patient while I set up everything so that I wouldn't have to stress when I get back from Texas. Then we had a slumber party. And giggled like we were ten years old again. Granted, our slumber party consisted of brainstorming our story ideas instead of painting our toenails and doing makeovers. But that's what happens when you put literary nerds together.

So back to that up-in-the-air feeling. Yeah. It's there. I did it. I. Moved. Out. Of. Provo. Still single. But graduated. Possibly for good. Well, the out of Provo part. And the graduated part. Hopefully not the single part. :) But let me tell you, it is a weird feeling. Kind of unreal. Like I'm not entirely sure how I should behave. What do graduated, real-live adults do? Oh yeah, work. But I don't start work yet. One more week of freedome. Yeah, freedom with an e. Because my fingers spazz and I'm too lazy to fix it.

I apologize for the ramblings. But if you wanted to peek inside my mind (you brave soul, you!) this is pretty much what it looks like right now.

w00t.

Welcome to My New Pad

So... a couple of weeks ago, many of my awesome friends and family gave me money for graduation, to help me get settled in my new life. And help me they did! Since I've upgraded from a twin size bed to a four-poster queen bed, I've needed to upgrade my bedding, too. My parents were kind enough to donate a couple of sets of (very soft and snuggly) sheets that they don't use anymore, but I still lacked some pizzazz. So, thanks to the loving contributions from my friends and family, I was able to purchase a bed set that I'm passionately in love with. And it matches my other decor.

Yay!

So welcome, dear friends, to my new place.

And look over here! A bookshelf (filled with books), which is probably about the happiest thing I can imagine.

I love my cozy little room. ^_^

Affirmation

There's nothing like moving away for getting people to open up about how amazing and indispensable they think you are.

Right.

I could have used some of that affirmation over the last three years. Thanks.

I'm Grateful for Plumbing

Happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappy!

Yep. That's me. Happy.

Hurting, but happy. I just got back from an epic week at Lake Powell with my extended family. It is most likely the best thing I have ever allowed myself to be talked into.

I won't bore you with all of the details of the trip. Most of the time, stories of trips are most interesting when you're actually in them, although you can slide by with in-person retellings sometimes because tone, expression, and gestures help a lot. But here? Not so much.

Since it was so hot, we all slept on the deck

So here's the skinny on what you should know about my trip:

I did in fact get a little skinnier. I was too busy playing to eat a ton of food. Plus, you try getting food when 6 teenage boys crowd you out at every meal and inhale all the food before you get to it. :)

My cousin Josh Anderson is a Tube Wars BEAST. He did things that, according to the laws of physics, probably shouldn't be possible. I'll have to show you pictures sometime, once I find a way to glean them from my aunt's camera.

We survived a pretty vicious windstorm and almost lost Josh Wille between two boats, but he miraculously did not get squished in half. We're grateful for that. The boats were all saved, if unanchored to the shore, and nobody got hurt. So we chalked it up to a really intense experience.

This is me with "The Joshes." Josh-on-the-right is my cousin. Josh-on-the-left is my cousin's cousin. They're both pretty awesome.

I kneeboarded for the first time. I really like it.

Unfortunately, my grip sucks. I get these shooting pains through my hands and wrists when I try to do it more than once in the space of several hours. Two-ish years of scooping ice cream and a hereditary tendency toward carpal tunnel syndrome (I think) seems to be the main problem. I'm sad, because otherwise I could definitely keep going. The rest of me is strong enough.

Why yes, I did take this picture. :)

I tanned gently and wonderfully all week, then of course forgot to apply sunscreen this morning, so my knees are roasted after sitting on a boat for a bunch of hours. My roommates are making fun of me because I'm "waddling like a duck," to use their description. It's just... they hurt so bad! On the bright side, it happened at the end of the trip, so I'm back in air conditioning with buckets of aloe, advil, and ice packs to comfort me. :)

But it was SO worth it! I loved being cut off from technology and surrounded by the rocking waves and soaring cliffs. We woke up with the sun, went to bed with the sun, and nobody cared what time it was (we checked sometimes, just out of curiosity, but time was so irrelevant down there). It was heaven on earth.

Okay, minus the plumbing. I really did miss that. :)

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.

Texas, Y'all

Saw this on a car, heard my mom mention it, and found it to share with y'all.

 

It's relevant because I keep finding myself perking up instantly whenever I hear people talk about Texas. It's true. I've been converted, heart and soul. I love it there. I've never fallen in love with a place so fast, or really at all. I've always liked the places I've lived, but to get so immediately attached to a place? It's totally new. 

But here's the thing I love about Texas, and this bumper sticker says it all: they don't have the elitist pride that I didn't like about Southern California. It's more of a "hey! you moved here! Welcome! Please fall in love with this place, because we love it and we think you're great too!" They have that gentle, non-obnoxious arrogance that comes from really truly loving their home enough to want to share it with everyone else. 

So yeah. I'm in love. And the reason I brought it up? Some cute guy in the ward is from Texas (complete with a nice big Texas belt buckle) and I found myself going "ooh! awesome!" It made me laugh. But I also understand at last how my friends who have served missions in Texas can love it so much. It's a pretty great place, and I can't wait to go back. :)

Thoughts from a Transplant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Long Story Short

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

California was warm(er) and sunny (sometimes)

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

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

Disneyland was freaking awesome

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Homesickness sucks

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

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

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

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

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

RunRunRun!

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

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

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

Tubes and Springs

It's finally picture time again (translation: I finally successfully thieved photos off my roommate's camera, because I never take any of my own). But this is why my body hated me last week:

I would like to point out that, no, I'm not actually in this picture, but no one who was on the boat with me had a camera, so the pictures from Michelle's trip were the best I had. But I did do this. Standing up, I might add. That lovely green backing that turns it into a chair? Yup, there are handles on that, and Brenton and I stood up for the large majority of our ride. My thighs objected. The rest of me had a blast.

What does one do with one's friends when you have a holiday from school and homework has not had time to pile up and drown you? Why, go for a splendid hike, of course! We'd originally intended to go tubing down the Provo river, but it was too cold on Monday to do that, and we'd been slightly remiss in actually adequately preparing for such a venture. So it was just easier to get our tubing in at the ward activity and go playing in the hot springs on Labor Day. And, as has become the norm for our plans, what started out as just a few people multiplied quickly as friends brought friends. Oh, and only two people who came actually had cars. Which meant we were plenty snuggly on the drives there and back. ;)

This is, in a sense, my victory picture.  I made it all the way to the springs and up the waterfall, all with legs that really wanted to drop out from under me (side note: they're happy and strong now -- pain is gain, my friends). Okay, so I lie a little bit. I was actually following my brother around on the rocks and then Michelle said, "Lynnae! Stop right there! No, not there. Step forward! Nevermind, back a step," and snapped a picture. Apparently spontaneous photoshooting is not my strong point.

No trip to the Diamond Fork Hot Springs is complete without some shenanigans in the waterfall. Sadly, the waterfall was a bit pitiful-looking this time around (compare) but we still had fun. PS: in case you ever wondered what my holycrapthisiscold face looks like, well, here it is. Brian and Nick were all manly and tough and stuck their heads in the the waterfall, which, if I remember right, made their heads feel numb and tingly. Riiiiiight. Because that's a great idea.

 And since Michelle's camera seemed to object to working in the bright sunlight, only one of the waterfall-hole pictures actually turned out looking really good. Go figure it's the most awesome one.

Have I mentioned that my brother is awesome? I really love having him around. He just adds a whole new layer of fun to everything I do.

Oh, and here is my beauteous roommate, Michelle, who is awesome enough to organize things like this. I may or may not covet her hair on occasion. Okay, most of the time. :)

Other adventures/fun facts from that trip (excluding the beating my body took) included Brian's pet rock Alfred, who, despite our best attempts to lose him, always managed to turn up again; Stephen's successful avoidance of getting his clothes wet, which included some rather fantastic skating along the slippery rocks without falling, just so he could get close enough to talk to us; Tom feeling up Michelle's foot, thinking it was a squishy rock (that's on the quote wall, too, for the record); and Nugai getting a nice little heat-induced line across the middle of his torso because he sat in the springs for too long.

Oh, and I may or may not get pleasure out of fluffing my brother's ego, because he's definitely the most ripped guy in this picture. (Unless Stephen's holding out on us...)

So yeah, here's the visual proof that my life is awesome. I love it. Unfortunately, school is slowly whittling away at the time we have to do cool stuff like this. We'll just have to get creative, I guess.

My Body Hates Me

It's true! I suppose perhaps that I deserve it. I have been harder on my body this weekend than I normally am. I took it tubing (and, crazy me, I decided to be cool like Brenton and stand up on the tube, which produces an effect on your legs very akin to wakeboarding or skiing, i.e., it hurts like heck the next day). Fortunately, that means I was spared the condition of the rest of the ward, who all had aching arms and shoulders, but aches in the legs tend to be more noticeable. For example, you tend to wobble/waddle when you walk. Very amusing to watch, I'm sure.

So yeah. My legs have been grumbling at me for a few days, occasionally emitting a high pitched pain spike when I roll over on them in bed, stand up, sit down, use stairs, run, walk, and pretty much use them at all. Side note: my friends have been more than a little merciless about exploiting this specific condition.

Kunkee was making fun of me and Savannah the other night and taunted us with a "come and get me, then" line. Stupidly, I took the bait and jumped up to chase after him. I got about two steps before my legs were like "Haha, yeah right. We're not taking you anywhere." THUD. I'm on the floor and not entirely sure how I got there. In front of about five guys, might I add. Thank you, legs. Thank you. Remind me to get my revenge.

Note to self: revenge against your own body never works. It'll always win. My attempted revenge (mixed with a little bit of bribery) was taking my legs for a two-mile stroll to the hot springs (again! :D). They didn't like that. You'd think soaking them in warm mineral water would have counted for something. But I suppose I was still being a little mean to my body. Hiking all over that canyon, sliding down slippery rock formations, and scrambling over rocks might not have been the best way to treat it when it's already sore. So now I have a collection of bruises, a sunburn, and a new set of achy muscles on top of the old set to show for it.

Funny thing was, this weekend was exceptionally awesome. And totally worth all the pain. I guess that's how it goes with me. I don't have fun unless I'm hurting after doing it. (Spelunking, anyone?). I've always been of the opinion that life's not fun if you don't collect a few bumps, bruises, or scars along the way.

And yes, that counts on both a figurative and literal level. I'm in the middle of embracing all the emotional bumps and bruises (no scars this time around) as well as the literal ones. Heck, I've kind of volunteered for some of them, so it's not surprising that I ache sometimes.

I don't regret a single second. Because I'd like to be able to look back at my life and see a life that's been lived, whether that means muscle fatigue for three days, or heartbreak and tears for three weeks. The experiences that cause those conditions have always been worth it. So hate me as much as you want, dear body. You'll thank me later, because you'll be stronger in the long run.

High Flying

It's true. I'm in a high-flying mood. Too bad I don't actually like flying. Don't ask why, because I don't really know. I just don't like planes. However, I'm sucking it up and braving the metal beast tomorrow morning at approximately 8:41am in order to fly home and pay my last respects to our lovely California home. My dad got laid off about 3 months ago (curse this economy) and finally found a new job in Austin, Texas, so my family is moving there next month sometime. So I'm flying home to get my last good taste of the beach and the palm trees.

You know, you'd think I'd be depressed by my family moving while I'm in college, but I'm really not. I'm actually pretty excited. I've grown up moving around a lot (longest time spent in one house: 3 years), so I'm accustomed to things changing. And it's not like I can be any more displaced than I already am. I graduated from high school in Iowa, my family moved to California my freshman year of college, and now they're moving somewhere else while I'm still in Provo. So it's really nothing too drastic. It just makes my trip home for Christmas all the more exciting, since it'll be to a place I've never been.

It helps that I've built a life for myself here in Utah. Even though my family is moving, it's not really uprooting me at all, because all my friends, my job, my current place of residence, all that is in Utah. So while my family is uprooting and moving around, I'm staying pretty well rooted.