Today I told my nieces that I wouldn't be staying in Texas. In fact, I think that I'll be gone by the end of August, perhaps sooner. That is my plan. It is my plan because I feel prompted by the Spirit to do it. I don't know how things will sort themselves out. I've had a job interview, but I do not know how that will turn out. Perhaps I will get the job, and perhaps I will not. I have a good feeling about it, but I know that does not mean I will get it. I don't have much money left in the bank accounts. I may have to dip into that last retirement account of mine.
When my nieces asked me why I had to go, I told them that the Spirit had given me a prompting that this is what Heavenly Father wants for me. They reminded me that I didn't have a job there. And that is when I told them that I needed to be like Nephi. Nephi was told that he needed to go to get the plates of brass from Laban. He did not know how he would do this task. It was a difficult thing to do...to go asking the king if they could have something back that was rightfully theirs. Because Laban was wicked and would probably seek their lives just for asking.
But Nephi didn't shrink. He said that he knew that the Lord wouldn't ask him to do something impossible. He knew that the Lord would provide a way for him to accomplish the commandment that had been given.
And so it is with me. I do not know how things will fall into place. However, I know what I feel. I want to do it. In fact, I've never wanted to do something more. Because I too know that when the Spirit speaks and you listen, the Lord will provide a path and a way for you to accomplish what is necessary.
I am grateful for my testimony. I am grateful to know that the promptings of the Spirit really do guide me and that my life isn't just a random series of events. I'm grateful to see that already there have been answers placed in my path to guide me as I have made the decision to listen. I know that will continue to happen. I don't express my gratitude for this gift of faith and personal revelation as much as I should, but I do know it is real. And I love the Lord! He is always there for me. Always.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wait Till Helen Comes
I remember reading The Dollhouse Murders. I was in junior high. I suppose I was feeling a bit nostalgic when I picked this out among the juvenile lit section. That and I wanted to be scared. Just a little, you know? I'm not sure this did the trick. In fact, if I think about it, I wonder if I've outgrown that whole getting scared of ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night. That makes me a little sad to think a part of my childhood and even young adulthood has changed so much that I don't even really believe in ghosts and ghouls and things that go bump in the night. Alas...here is my review.
Wait Till Helen Comes: A Ghost Story by Mary Downing Hahn
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Oh some days don't you wish were twelve again? Well, probably you don't, at least if you were like me. I was awkward and chubby and had all sorts of acne. Puberty is a biotch!
BUT...I remember my love for little gems such as Wait Till Helen Comes. Don't you love ghost stories? I love a ghost story. I love getting a little thrill from being afraid of what may or may not be lurking around the corner or in the dark. Not because I believe in ghosts, mind you. I sort of really scoff at the idea. Most of the time. But a little part of me still believes in them when I'm all by myself in the house, and I'm reading a tale like this. Maybe, just maybe, a little ghostie will reveal itself to me at times like that. And it makes me shutter just a bit.
Even if the story is totally juvenile and full of logical holes and such. Maybe it's just fun to believe it for a minute, if only for the thrill. And that is probably why today I wish I was twelve again. This story would have scared the pants off me then. But today, at my age, well, it gave me a chill here and there. I did hide the cover when I put it next to my bed. I mean, who wants to look at a ghost of a dead little girl who is allegedly haunting other little girls whilst she drifts off to sleep? Not this girl! It's creepy!
The story goes something like this. Molly and Michael have a new little step-sister, Heather. And Heather, a troubled child who is hiding a dark secret of her own, makes friends with a ghost. Heather goes so far as to threaten her new step-siblings with vengeance wrought by none other than her new found pal and specter, Helen. Michael, a child with a penchant for science, doesn't believe. But Molly is convinced that Heather is possessed by something dark and harmful. She wants to protect Heather, but will she be able to as long as Heather keeps tormenting the family and causing trouble for her new siblings?
It's a fun little story, especially for the younger set. Not sure I'll pick up another juvenile ghost tale, at least for the time being. But it was fun, for a moment, to revisit my twelve-year-old self and feel a little bit spooked out by the possibility of a haunting.
View all my reviews
Wait Till Helen Comes: A Ghost Story by Mary Downing HahnMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Oh some days don't you wish were twelve again? Well, probably you don't, at least if you were like me. I was awkward and chubby and had all sorts of acne. Puberty is a biotch!
BUT...I remember my love for little gems such as Wait Till Helen Comes. Don't you love ghost stories? I love a ghost story. I love getting a little thrill from being afraid of what may or may not be lurking around the corner or in the dark. Not because I believe in ghosts, mind you. I sort of really scoff at the idea. Most of the time. But a little part of me still believes in them when I'm all by myself in the house, and I'm reading a tale like this. Maybe, just maybe, a little ghostie will reveal itself to me at times like that. And it makes me shutter just a bit.
Even if the story is totally juvenile and full of logical holes and such. Maybe it's just fun to believe it for a minute, if only for the thrill. And that is probably why today I wish I was twelve again. This story would have scared the pants off me then. But today, at my age, well, it gave me a chill here and there. I did hide the cover when I put it next to my bed. I mean, who wants to look at a ghost of a dead little girl who is allegedly haunting other little girls whilst she drifts off to sleep? Not this girl! It's creepy!
The story goes something like this. Molly and Michael have a new little step-sister, Heather. And Heather, a troubled child who is hiding a dark secret of her own, makes friends with a ghost. Heather goes so far as to threaten her new step-siblings with vengeance wrought by none other than her new found pal and specter, Helen. Michael, a child with a penchant for science, doesn't believe. But Molly is convinced that Heather is possessed by something dark and harmful. She wants to protect Heather, but will she be able to as long as Heather keeps tormenting the family and causing trouble for her new siblings?
It's a fun little story, especially for the younger set. Not sure I'll pick up another juvenile ghost tale, at least for the time being. But it was fun, for a moment, to revisit my twelve-year-old self and feel a little bit spooked out by the possibility of a haunting.
View all my reviews
Friday, July 29, 2011
One More Comment on Failure
So I'm sort of stuck on this idea that failure, that rock bottom, might have been the answer all along.
I mean the worst possible most horrible thing in my parade of horribles came true. I'm single. I'm thirty-five and I'm single. Not to mention living in my younger brother's house and all that lot. It was my worst fear. It came true. Maybe there is something to that whole self-fulfilling prophecy thing. But that isn't the point now, is it?
Then what is the point? That I'm still alive...sort of. But I didn't think I would literally die if I didn't get married in my twenties. I just thought it would be humiliating and horrible and really really scary and awful. At times it does feel like those things are true - that I am humiliated and things are horrible and scary and awful. Most of the times, it doesn't.
So then surviving it isn't the point.
It's more than just surviving it. What this really means to me is that my worst fear can come true and maybe my worst fear isn't nearly as terrible as I thought. Which means that all of my fears about failing things are pretty much useless. What is there to fear when the worst thing you think can happens actually happens? There really isn't anything more to be afraid of.
Now that is a thought to hold onto for a moment. Think about it. Maybe your worst fear is different than mine. Maybe you think my worst fear is silly. Maybe, though, really, all "worst fears" are just that. They are silly.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think there is anything silly about devastating loss, disease and loneliness. They are horrible.
But they happen and sometimes, when they do happen, you discover that fearing it didn't matter in the end. And perhaps that is God's way of showing us that fear cannot harm us.
I know what I would have said to this a year or two ago. I wouldn't have known, though, what rock bottom looked like. Instead I would have seen being single at thirty-whatever as a curse. I would have seen it as a sign of my unworthiness, my ugliness, my fatness. Or whatever else I could come up with. I didn't see that really all of that was only my own insecurities about me. I'm not saying I'm single because I'm insecure. I am saying that my insecurities were manifest rather loudly because I had to find a reason for being single and for feeling rejected.
I wouldn't have seen rock bottom as a blessing. How odd. How completely and totally odd and unexpected and, even more strange, how beautiful. I feel so safe now. I feel so safe because I know the worst that can happen. It isn't what I thought it was. It isn't because I'm not good enough. It isn't because God has forgotten who I am. It is exactly the opposite. It is because I can do hard things, and God does know me. Personally. He knows me enough to give me what I thought would devastate and destroy me and show me that I am more.
I know some things about myself that I would never have known. I know now that fear is nothing. It is nothing and it means nothing. It's only a tool of an adversary who thinks he can take us down by feeding a fear. It makes Job mean so much more to me now. There was a guy who got it. He didn't give in to the fear. He let all those things, all those horribles, pass over him. He accepted it. He knew that God was on his side. So what else really mattered in the end.
Now I know that the worst can come true. And it isn't so bad. So I can go on living.
I mean the worst possible most horrible thing in my parade of horribles came true. I'm single. I'm thirty-five and I'm single. Not to mention living in my younger brother's house and all that lot. It was my worst fear. It came true. Maybe there is something to that whole self-fulfilling prophecy thing. But that isn't the point now, is it?
Then what is the point? That I'm still alive...sort of. But I didn't think I would literally die if I didn't get married in my twenties. I just thought it would be humiliating and horrible and really really scary and awful. At times it does feel like those things are true - that I am humiliated and things are horrible and scary and awful. Most of the times, it doesn't.
So then surviving it isn't the point.
It's more than just surviving it. What this really means to me is that my worst fear can come true and maybe my worst fear isn't nearly as terrible as I thought. Which means that all of my fears about failing things are pretty much useless. What is there to fear when the worst thing you think can happens actually happens? There really isn't anything more to be afraid of.
Now that is a thought to hold onto for a moment. Think about it. Maybe your worst fear is different than mine. Maybe you think my worst fear is silly. Maybe, though, really, all "worst fears" are just that. They are silly.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think there is anything silly about devastating loss, disease and loneliness. They are horrible.
But they happen and sometimes, when they do happen, you discover that fearing it didn't matter in the end. And perhaps that is God's way of showing us that fear cannot harm us.
I know what I would have said to this a year or two ago. I wouldn't have known, though, what rock bottom looked like. Instead I would have seen being single at thirty-whatever as a curse. I would have seen it as a sign of my unworthiness, my ugliness, my fatness. Or whatever else I could come up with. I didn't see that really all of that was only my own insecurities about me. I'm not saying I'm single because I'm insecure. I am saying that my insecurities were manifest rather loudly because I had to find a reason for being single and for feeling rejected.
I wouldn't have seen rock bottom as a blessing. How odd. How completely and totally odd and unexpected and, even more strange, how beautiful. I feel so safe now. I feel so safe because I know the worst that can happen. It isn't what I thought it was. It isn't because I'm not good enough. It isn't because God has forgotten who I am. It is exactly the opposite. It is because I can do hard things, and God does know me. Personally. He knows me enough to give me what I thought would devastate and destroy me and show me that I am more.
I know some things about myself that I would never have known. I know now that fear is nothing. It is nothing and it means nothing. It's only a tool of an adversary who thinks he can take us down by feeding a fear. It makes Job mean so much more to me now. There was a guy who got it. He didn't give in to the fear. He let all those things, all those horribles, pass over him. He accepted it. He knew that God was on his side. So what else really mattered in the end.
Now I know that the worst can come true. And it isn't so bad. So I can go on living.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Inspiration
That J.K. Rowling. She is something else, I must say.
So I read her speech given at a Harvard commencement in June of 2008. She spoke about failure. Of all the things to speak about, she gave a talk about failure to Harvard graduates. Along with other things, of course. The woman has courage. And by the way, it was good. Really good. I would have to say inspired, really. Just like her books are. You can go read it for yourself here... if you would like.
What she said resonated with me for this reason. I feel like some days, I'm failing my life. I do. I wake up at whatever time, and I go about the day not really doing much of anything. I've sort of sealed off a place where I've cocooned myself safely away from fear. I see it like this. I'm in a small space, perhaps the size of a twin bed. And all around me are curtains, layers and layers of them, extending out from the space. I hide here. However, there is a problem. The curtains don't just hide me. They are the fears. If I get up from my small little nook and push them aside, I'll have to face my fears, touch them, even interact inside of them. I know there is only one way out of my island of solitude. The minute I get up to face the fears, I draw back. It hurts, like being burned, and I don't want to do it.
In the safe place I can dream my life to be what I want it to. Reality is just so much harder than that. Reality means I have to face my failures.
But that Ms. Rowling, she's right. Failure is perhaps the best place to be at one point or another. Because failure forces you to look at what is real in your life. I've been stripped down of all my personal comforts. My own space, for example; a car to get in and drive where I will; the money to buy my own food; the reality of waking up in your brother's home; a lack of any sort of romantic life...for years. I never saw myself here at thirty-five. It is rock bottom. It is failure. I may be a college grad and have a second degree. I may have passed the bar exam. I never ever ever ever expected to be in a place like this.
And then I read her speech. This is what she said of herself, "The fears that my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew." The fears she had for herself had come to pass. Oh how I can relate. I feared being single. I feared graduating law school and being unable to find work. I feared gaining weight.
However...this part of what she said...this is the part I love: "...failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life." And what a rebuilding that was.
Here is the thing, folks. As I sit here writing this, I realize for myself that I am still alive. My greatest biggest scariest fear, being single into my thirties, is reality. And I'm telling you, it has been my greatest fear. It didn't kill me. I'm still here. My fears in law school that perhaps I'd struggle to find work after the economy tanked came true. But that didn't kill me either. I'm still here. And I've feared gaining weight my entire life...ever since I was a chubby kid. And I've struggled with my weight my entire life. And guess what? That didn't kill me. I'm still here.
The point isn't my specific fears. The point is that, by my own personal measure of what I thought I would be at thirty-five, I am a failure. More importantly, Ms. Rowling is right. None of it killed me.
I still have many things. I have family and friends who never abandoned me. I have ideas to write about. I have my sturdy old Mac from five years ago. I have a vivid imagination. And I can write. I've always had that. Ever since I was a girl I've had that.
Mostly, though, when I think about what this can teach me personally, I know this. Just because you are down, doesn't mean you are out. Just because you feel like a failure at one time or another, doesn't me you are a failure. It's like that whole doing versus being talk from general conference. We need to be careful about labeling ourselves based on incidents in our lives. I am not a failure just because life didn't go perfectly.
And one more thing. I think I really have weathered this storm in my life rather well, if I do say so myself. Because as I write this, I don't feel like crying over my lot in life. Mostly I feel like celebrating. That probably sounds a little crazy, but I do. I feel like celebrating because even if all the bad things in life that I didn't want to experience came true, I'm still standing. And I'm stronger for it. And that, my friends, really is something to celebrate.
So I read her speech given at a Harvard commencement in June of 2008. She spoke about failure. Of all the things to speak about, she gave a talk about failure to Harvard graduates. Along with other things, of course. The woman has courage. And by the way, it was good. Really good. I would have to say inspired, really. Just like her books are. You can go read it for yourself here... if you would like.
What she said resonated with me for this reason. I feel like some days, I'm failing my life. I do. I wake up at whatever time, and I go about the day not really doing much of anything. I've sort of sealed off a place where I've cocooned myself safely away from fear. I see it like this. I'm in a small space, perhaps the size of a twin bed. And all around me are curtains, layers and layers of them, extending out from the space. I hide here. However, there is a problem. The curtains don't just hide me. They are the fears. If I get up from my small little nook and push them aside, I'll have to face my fears, touch them, even interact inside of them. I know there is only one way out of my island of solitude. The minute I get up to face the fears, I draw back. It hurts, like being burned, and I don't want to do it.
In the safe place I can dream my life to be what I want it to. Reality is just so much harder than that. Reality means I have to face my failures.
But that Ms. Rowling, she's right. Failure is perhaps the best place to be at one point or another. Because failure forces you to look at what is real in your life. I've been stripped down of all my personal comforts. My own space, for example; a car to get in and drive where I will; the money to buy my own food; the reality of waking up in your brother's home; a lack of any sort of romantic life...for years. I never saw myself here at thirty-five. It is rock bottom. It is failure. I may be a college grad and have a second degree. I may have passed the bar exam. I never ever ever ever expected to be in a place like this.
And then I read her speech. This is what she said of herself, "The fears that my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew." The fears she had for herself had come to pass. Oh how I can relate. I feared being single. I feared graduating law school and being unable to find work. I feared gaining weight.
However...this part of what she said...this is the part I love: "...failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life." And what a rebuilding that was.
Here is the thing, folks. As I sit here writing this, I realize for myself that I am still alive. My greatest biggest scariest fear, being single into my thirties, is reality. And I'm telling you, it has been my greatest fear. It didn't kill me. I'm still here. My fears in law school that perhaps I'd struggle to find work after the economy tanked came true. But that didn't kill me either. I'm still here. And I've feared gaining weight my entire life...ever since I was a chubby kid. And I've struggled with my weight my entire life. And guess what? That didn't kill me. I'm still here.
The point isn't my specific fears. The point is that, by my own personal measure of what I thought I would be at thirty-five, I am a failure. More importantly, Ms. Rowling is right. None of it killed me.
I still have many things. I have family and friends who never abandoned me. I have ideas to write about. I have my sturdy old Mac from five years ago. I have a vivid imagination. And I can write. I've always had that. Ever since I was a girl I've had that.
Mostly, though, when I think about what this can teach me personally, I know this. Just because you are down, doesn't mean you are out. Just because you feel like a failure at one time or another, doesn't me you are a failure. It's like that whole doing versus being talk from general conference. We need to be careful about labeling ourselves based on incidents in our lives. I am not a failure just because life didn't go perfectly.
And one more thing. I think I really have weathered this storm in my life rather well, if I do say so myself. Because as I write this, I don't feel like crying over my lot in life. Mostly I feel like celebrating. That probably sounds a little crazy, but I do. I feel like celebrating because even if all the bad things in life that I didn't want to experience came true, I'm still standing. And I'm stronger for it. And that, my friends, really is something to celebrate.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Things That Broke My Heart
Every once in a while I think about Virginia. Because you see, Virginia, well, she broke my heart. I can see her in the spring, all sparkly with her budding trees...trees that pop out in bright colors that I, for one, did not know existed in nature. And then there is the fall. Well, the fall in Virginia goes beyond my capacity to explain. Only one day, I was driving on the GW Parkway, and it was a little misty outside, not really raining. I thought maybe I would have to pull the car over. I thought maybe that much beauty didn't really exist in the world, and it hurt my heart to think that anything could be so perfect. I tell you my heart actually ached inside.
And then one summer I had to leave her. She was bright green and rainy that day. I think she was crying as much for me as I was for her. Because let me tell you what. It was not raining when I got to Las Vegas. Not one bit, no sir. It only rained once while I was there. Vegas is heartless like that. But not Virginia. No no. Maybe that is why they say that Virginia is for Lovers! She is because she is so beautiful.
I don't think I'll ever fully recover from her.
And there are other things that break my heart. Like Harry Potter. Harry Potter guts me. That's mostly because it's a story about one average boy who, as it turns out, isn't so average. Turns out he's a hero. Not because he's the best looking or the smartest boy. But only because he is noble and brave and mostly because he loves. Oh love is a wonderful thing. But it is heart-wrenching to watch the sacrifice. So of course, I cried and it did break my heart. I hate for the movies to be done. Now that it's really over, there won't be another Harry Potter story to look forward to, and so I'll have to content myself with re-reading the series or watching the movies. So I'm doubly heart-broken.
If Harry Potter broke my heart, so did Lord of the Rings. All for the same reasons.
Paris breaks my heart, too. I want to go to Paris and wander for months. I feel like I'll never be satisfied until I get to do that. I want to see everything, every secret. I want to travel to the top of the Eiffel Tower every night for a week; it's that beautiful to sit and stare out over the city. I want to wander the Louvre all by myself for hours and weeks and see it all and then do it all over again.
And it is going to break my heart to leave TXas. Oh what a bittersweet moment. On the one hand, I feel like I finally have a clear path to take and that there will be answers. On the other hand, I feel sad to say good-bye to a place that I thought would be home. And when I say home, I mean home home. You know, for good. But it isn't, and so I'll have to leave and say my good-byes. I've said so many. I'm sort of tired of this whole telling people good-bye and crying and all that lot. But that is what I am going to do. I'll do it gratefully because I know going back to Utah is the right thing. Even if it breaks my heart.
But what I want to know is how much my heart can take with being broken up like this?
And aren't I a silly, sentimental girl?
And then one summer I had to leave her. She was bright green and rainy that day. I think she was crying as much for me as I was for her. Because let me tell you what. It was not raining when I got to Las Vegas. Not one bit, no sir. It only rained once while I was there. Vegas is heartless like that. But not Virginia. No no. Maybe that is why they say that Virginia is for Lovers! She is because she is so beautiful.
I don't think I'll ever fully recover from her.
And there are other things that break my heart. Like Harry Potter. Harry Potter guts me. That's mostly because it's a story about one average boy who, as it turns out, isn't so average. Turns out he's a hero. Not because he's the best looking or the smartest boy. But only because he is noble and brave and mostly because he loves. Oh love is a wonderful thing. But it is heart-wrenching to watch the sacrifice. So of course, I cried and it did break my heart. I hate for the movies to be done. Now that it's really over, there won't be another Harry Potter story to look forward to, and so I'll have to content myself with re-reading the series or watching the movies. So I'm doubly heart-broken.
If Harry Potter broke my heart, so did Lord of the Rings. All for the same reasons.
Paris breaks my heart, too. I want to go to Paris and wander for months. I feel like I'll never be satisfied until I get to do that. I want to see everything, every secret. I want to travel to the top of the Eiffel Tower every night for a week; it's that beautiful to sit and stare out over the city. I want to wander the Louvre all by myself for hours and weeks and see it all and then do it all over again.
And it is going to break my heart to leave TXas. Oh what a bittersweet moment. On the one hand, I feel like I finally have a clear path to take and that there will be answers. On the other hand, I feel sad to say good-bye to a place that I thought would be home. And when I say home, I mean home home. You know, for good. But it isn't, and so I'll have to leave and say my good-byes. I've said so many. I'm sort of tired of this whole telling people good-bye and crying and all that lot. But that is what I am going to do. I'll do it gratefully because I know going back to Utah is the right thing. Even if it breaks my heart.
But what I want to know is how much my heart can take with being broken up like this?
And aren't I a silly, sentimental girl?
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Oh Yes It's Ladies' Night!
So had the funnest evening with my girls in Rockwall. We went to the Flying Saucer. Had a yummy dinner. Talked with great gals. Laughed. You know.
And the best part? It was a favorites party. I loved it. Here is how it works:
1. You pick a favorite thing for under five dollars and you purchase three of that one item. Right now, for example, I am loving dry shampoo, so I brought three bottles.
2. Then everyone puts their name in a pot three times.
3. You go around the table and each person explains her item, and then choose three names. Those three people get the items you brought.
So tonight, I got some chocolate covered strawberries, some Nivea lip gloss, and these awesome twisty bobby pins for up-dos. I love them all...especially the twisty bobby-pins because I can never keep my hair in a bun, and those bad boys work!
It was so fun to see what everyone brought. It was fun to share with people. It was really one of the funnest girls' nights I've ever had.
You know, that is what I love about women. We share. And I think you can trust a girl who knows how to interact and share with other women. It means she is comfortable with who she is. It means she isn't threatened or intimidated by other the other gals.
Leaving TXas is going to be rough, I tell you. Leaving any place is hard, of course. Mostly because you bond with people. But right now I'm just really grateful for these good memories that I'll always have of good women, righteous and kind women. Women who embraced me and made me feel like I was home. I love them.
And the best part? It was a favorites party. I loved it. Here is how it works:
1. You pick a favorite thing for under five dollars and you purchase three of that one item. Right now, for example, I am loving dry shampoo, so I brought three bottles.
2. Then everyone puts their name in a pot three times.
3. You go around the table and each person explains her item, and then choose three names. Those three people get the items you brought.
So tonight, I got some chocolate covered strawberries, some Nivea lip gloss, and these awesome twisty bobby pins for up-dos. I love them all...especially the twisty bobby-pins because I can never keep my hair in a bun, and those bad boys work!
It was so fun to see what everyone brought. It was fun to share with people. It was really one of the funnest girls' nights I've ever had.
You know, that is what I love about women. We share. And I think you can trust a girl who knows how to interact and share with other women. It means she is comfortable with who she is. It means she isn't threatened or intimidated by other the other gals.
Leaving TXas is going to be rough, I tell you. Leaving any place is hard, of course. Mostly because you bond with people. But right now I'm just really grateful for these good memories that I'll always have of good women, righteous and kind women. Women who embraced me and made me feel like I was home. I love them.
Monday, July 25, 2011
anx.i.e.ty [ang-zahy-i-tee]
-noun
1. distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune
2. earnest but tense desire; eagerness
3. psychiatry: a state of apprehension and psychic tension occurring in some forms of mental disorder
Pretty descriptive of what I've been feeling today. I had a phone interview for a job in Lindon, Utah. Yes, that is right. I said Utah. I even said Lindon...in Utah County. And yes I know what I've said in the past. "I'll never move back to Utah." "I could never live in Utah again." "I just don't want to live in Utah." "Utah is for suckers!" (Okay so maybe not the last one...although I probably did think it.) But I have avowed myself to never ever living in Utah again.
Then I went to Utah for a few weeks this summer. Just got back last Wednesday, actually. And guess what? I have to move to Utah. Why? You might ask. Well, I'll tell you what Grandpa Fish told me that time I asked him how he knew he was going to marry Grandma Fish when he had never even talked to her or met her. He'd only seen her across a room one night at a little Halloween shindig. But he turned to his friend and said he knew he'd marry her one day. And so I had to ask him how he knew that. Because it did come true. And he said, "I don't know, Michelle. And you can't ask me that. Some things you just know."
And that is how I know. Some things you just feel.
So I applied for this one job in Lindon, Utah for an assistant general counsel position. It's the only job I can find, really. At least in Utah County, which is where I feel strongly about being. And today I had a short phone interview.
I was anxious...feeling "distress or uneasiness of mind" I tell you! I mean, it's scary to do something like that after you've been out of the loop for so long. And you don't want to stick your foot in your mouth and you think about everything you say. Well, I didn't do a lot of talking. My interviewer did. She told me a lot about the job, and it is something I am perfectly capable of doing. But I'm the first person she's interviewed. I have no idea how many more people are on her list. So of course that leads to more anxiety. That is, the anxiety of waiting to know what is going to happen. Of feeling "earnest but tense desire; eagerness."
And of course, I hope. I hope that it will work out. I mean, I know I'm supposed to go and all. I have my answer. Now I need to find work. Really and truly. And that leads me to feeling "apprehension and psychic tension."
I think I'll go say a prayer for comfort and for the ability to accept whatever will come. I'll pray to be able to feel peace. Because if I am supposed to go, then I will find the work. That and I trust that I got an answer. It was clear. And I have faith.
1. distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune
2. earnest but tense desire; eagerness
3. psychiatry: a state of apprehension and psychic tension occurring in some forms of mental disorder
Pretty descriptive of what I've been feeling today. I had a phone interview for a job in Lindon, Utah. Yes, that is right. I said Utah. I even said Lindon...in Utah County. And yes I know what I've said in the past. "I'll never move back to Utah." "I could never live in Utah again." "I just don't want to live in Utah." "Utah is for suckers!" (Okay so maybe not the last one...although I probably did think it.) But I have avowed myself to never ever living in Utah again.
Then I went to Utah for a few weeks this summer. Just got back last Wednesday, actually. And guess what? I have to move to Utah. Why? You might ask. Well, I'll tell you what Grandpa Fish told me that time I asked him how he knew he was going to marry Grandma Fish when he had never even talked to her or met her. He'd only seen her across a room one night at a little Halloween shindig. But he turned to his friend and said he knew he'd marry her one day. And so I had to ask him how he knew that. Because it did come true. And he said, "I don't know, Michelle. And you can't ask me that. Some things you just know."
And that is how I know. Some things you just feel.
So I applied for this one job in Lindon, Utah for an assistant general counsel position. It's the only job I can find, really. At least in Utah County, which is where I feel strongly about being. And today I had a short phone interview.
I was anxious...feeling "distress or uneasiness of mind" I tell you! I mean, it's scary to do something like that after you've been out of the loop for so long. And you don't want to stick your foot in your mouth and you think about everything you say. Well, I didn't do a lot of talking. My interviewer did. She told me a lot about the job, and it is something I am perfectly capable of doing. But I'm the first person she's interviewed. I have no idea how many more people are on her list. So of course that leads to more anxiety. That is, the anxiety of waiting to know what is going to happen. Of feeling "earnest but tense desire; eagerness."
And of course, I hope. I hope that it will work out. I mean, I know I'm supposed to go and all. I have my answer. Now I need to find work. Really and truly. And that leads me to feeling "apprehension and psychic tension."
I think I'll go say a prayer for comfort and for the ability to accept whatever will come. I'll pray to be able to feel peace. Because if I am supposed to go, then I will find the work. That and I trust that I got an answer. It was clear. And I have faith.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Sugar...
Oh how I love thee...let me count the ways: chocolate, cheesecake, cookies, cupcakes, brownies, ice cream...deeelish!
And addicting.
And bad bad bad! At least the way I've been downing the goods lately. Why must it be feast or famine? WHY? So the past couple of days I've had some pretty bad headaches. And I think it is because of sugar. I'm trying to go off of it. And then I find myself eating it anyway. I have to stop.
Here is the thing about me and sugar. It starts off slow. I control my intake. Then I find myself on vacation or at my parent's house. And I let up my guard a lot. Soon it's a daily thing. And then it's an hourly thing. Sugar is my achilles heel.
So I find myself back in TXas and I have to get off of it again. I tell you what. It is going to be a long week. But do it I must. I didn't do all this work on getting back in shape to let it all slide away from me because I'm eating junk all the time. I didn't and I don't want to. So look out. Tomorrow is coming, and there will be no sugar!
And addicting.
And bad bad bad! At least the way I've been downing the goods lately. Why must it be feast or famine? WHY? So the past couple of days I've had some pretty bad headaches. And I think it is because of sugar. I'm trying to go off of it. And then I find myself eating it anyway. I have to stop.
Here is the thing about me and sugar. It starts off slow. I control my intake. Then I find myself on vacation or at my parent's house. And I let up my guard a lot. Soon it's a daily thing. And then it's an hourly thing. Sugar is my achilles heel.
So I find myself back in TXas and I have to get off of it again. I tell you what. It is going to be a long week. But do it I must. I didn't do all this work on getting back in shape to let it all slide away from me because I'm eating junk all the time. I didn't and I don't want to. So look out. Tomorrow is coming, and there will be no sugar!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Doesn't Matter
It used to be that when I would fly I would always buy a People Magazine or an US Weekly. I really liked flipping through and seeing all the gossip and the clothing and the pictures. So when I came into Dallas last Wednesday, the girl next to me on the plane asked me if I wanted her US Weekly. I hadn't really had time to even think about magazines, let alone buy one. I'd run to get some food and then caught my connecting flight from Denver to Dallas. And Provo didn't have a magazine stand or anywhere to purchase salacious celebrity gossip rags.
So I took the US Weekly. And I read it. You know what? Turns out I don't care about celebrity gossip. In fact, as it turns out, I kind of hate it. Not that I hate celebrities. I mean, they are just people making a living and what not. And I support movies, books, music, etc. So I don't resent what they do. I just don't really know why it matters so much to us. Why do we care that someone famous is breaking up with someone else who happens to be famous? Why do we care if someone famous takes their child to a local parade for the 4th of July?
I mean really, why do we care? It just doesn't matter at all. And what it left me with wasn't good. It left me feeling sort of empty...like we invest all this money and time and effort into following these normal people around and catalog their lives like it is so important what they wear or who they date or don't date. But it isn't important. Why do we feel the need to be voyeurs? People date, get married, divorce, quit jobs, fight, grow old, get messed up, join religions, go for long walks on the beach...but we don't go around snapping pictures and documenting the lives of the regular folk. Even though it is all the same. I can hear the same sort of gossip among my own family and friends...the people who actually matter to me. And I wouldn't want their problems or my problems being spread around like that. Or even just their private happy moments.
I guess I'm getting old. But I'm starting to see that some things that might seem like harmless amusement might not be so harmless after all. And maybe we shouldn't - or I shouldn't - support those things because they don't matter.
So I took the US Weekly. And I read it. You know what? Turns out I don't care about celebrity gossip. In fact, as it turns out, I kind of hate it. Not that I hate celebrities. I mean, they are just people making a living and what not. And I support movies, books, music, etc. So I don't resent what they do. I just don't really know why it matters so much to us. Why do we care that someone famous is breaking up with someone else who happens to be famous? Why do we care if someone famous takes their child to a local parade for the 4th of July?
I mean really, why do we care? It just doesn't matter at all. And what it left me with wasn't good. It left me feeling sort of empty...like we invest all this money and time and effort into following these normal people around and catalog their lives like it is so important what they wear or who they date or don't date. But it isn't important. Why do we feel the need to be voyeurs? People date, get married, divorce, quit jobs, fight, grow old, get messed up, join religions, go for long walks on the beach...but we don't go around snapping pictures and documenting the lives of the regular folk. Even though it is all the same. I can hear the same sort of gossip among my own family and friends...the people who actually matter to me. And I wouldn't want their problems or my problems being spread around like that. Or even just their private happy moments.
I guess I'm getting old. But I'm starting to see that some things that might seem like harmless amusement might not be so harmless after all. And maybe we shouldn't - or I shouldn't - support those things because they don't matter.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Keeping the Moon
I picked this up at the library because I've seen Sarah Dessen's novels reviewed in the news, and I was curious. She is a proliferate writer...so even though this wasn't the best book I've ever read, I think I might try something else she's written. Because this was good and sweet and innocent. And I like that.
Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Colie is your typical lost teenage girl. Her mother, a fitness guru, is off to Europe for the summer, and Colie must stay with her Aunt Mira, an eccentric artist who loves to adopt people, pets and things that aren't working quite right. Colie, in order to survive an entire summer with little to do, starts a job at the Last Chance diner. And there she befriends Morgan, Isabel and Norman. The three of them, along with some help from Mira, help Colie discover there is more to her than her former fat self or some rumors spread by the mean girl at school.
I appreciated this lesson from the book. Mira, who has a penchant for collecting items that don't work properly, teaches Colie this. If something isn't working perfectly, it doesn't mean it needs to be thrown away. It's okay if you have to jiggle door handles to get them to open or jimmy sink faucets so they will turn on and off. The more important implication is for people. You don't throw away relationships because they aren't perfect, or judge people because they don't meet your expectations. As Mira tells her, "Everything can't be fully operational all the time. Sometimes, we need to have the patience to give something the little nudge it needs." A beautiful thought about what it means to care for someone else. To have patience. Heaven knows the world could use a little more patience, especially because we are so used to getting what we want when we want it and throwing things out when they don't work. Everything is disposable. Maybe we could all use a bit more patience with the things and people in our lives.
However, most of the characters here are stock, and there is nothing extraordinary about the plot, the conflicts or the development of the story. It was sweet, light, and tame. I suppose I'm just glad to see a young adult novel that isn't full of vulgarity or sex. Call me naive, but I think it reflected a more honest reality for most teenagers. So while I am not giving this a glowing review, I do think it is a good, quick read...one for the beach or the pool.
View all my reviews
Keeping the Moon by Sarah DessenMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
Colie is your typical lost teenage girl. Her mother, a fitness guru, is off to Europe for the summer, and Colie must stay with her Aunt Mira, an eccentric artist who loves to adopt people, pets and things that aren't working quite right. Colie, in order to survive an entire summer with little to do, starts a job at the Last Chance diner. And there she befriends Morgan, Isabel and Norman. The three of them, along with some help from Mira, help Colie discover there is more to her than her former fat self or some rumors spread by the mean girl at school.
I appreciated this lesson from the book. Mira, who has a penchant for collecting items that don't work properly, teaches Colie this. If something isn't working perfectly, it doesn't mean it needs to be thrown away. It's okay if you have to jiggle door handles to get them to open or jimmy sink faucets so they will turn on and off. The more important implication is for people. You don't throw away relationships because they aren't perfect, or judge people because they don't meet your expectations. As Mira tells her, "Everything can't be fully operational all the time. Sometimes, we need to have the patience to give something the little nudge it needs." A beautiful thought about what it means to care for someone else. To have patience. Heaven knows the world could use a little more patience, especially because we are so used to getting what we want when we want it and throwing things out when they don't work. Everything is disposable. Maybe we could all use a bit more patience with the things and people in our lives.
However, most of the characters here are stock, and there is nothing extraordinary about the plot, the conflicts or the development of the story. It was sweet, light, and tame. I suppose I'm just glad to see a young adult novel that isn't full of vulgarity or sex. Call me naive, but I think it reflected a more honest reality for most teenagers. So while I am not giving this a glowing review, I do think it is a good, quick read...one for the beach or the pool.
View all my reviews
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Finnikin of the Rock
I'm really not sure I've done it justice. I'm learning that with book reviews, you can't say everything you think. Pare it down to what matters most and move on. Especially with a book you really enjoy. Because, well, the book speaks for itself. And that is certainly the case with this little gem.
Finnikin of the Rock by Melina Marchetta
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Thank you Melina Marchetta - this was beautiful. Trust someone with Marchetta's skill to deliver a fantasy story filled with believable, developed characters. My faith in young adult fantasy literature is restored!
Finnikin of the Rock is the story of a young man who, in his childhood, commits himself to the protection of his kingdom, its royal family, and all the citizens of Lumatere. Little does he know that he will become the standard-bearer of his people after their kingdom is conquered and a vast number of Lumatere is sent into exile. Finnikin must find the courage to gather his people and lead them against the enemy king.
I was looking for epic because the last few young adult fantasy novels I read fell short, far short, of epic. And while I'm not sure that I would call Finnikin of the Rock epic, it comes close. However...and more importantly...it is just plain well written.
The conflict: Good conflicts are relatable conflicts. Good conflicts center on a reality that exists in our world and speak to modern problems, even if they are set in a world of fantasy. Finnikin of the Rock does just that. Displaced people looking for a homeland; countries seeking puppets for purposes of going to war; inhumane treatment of exiled people. It isn't hard to see the modern atrocities of violence and war in the Middle East or the horrors in Darfur reflected in the conflict here. And Marchetta doesn't pull punches. She portrays the violence, particularly against women and children, with heart-rending honesty. In fact, I caution more sensitive readers. While she is in no way gratuitous, she does tell it like it is. It brought a few tears to my eyes. War is beastly.
The characters: I loved them because they felt developed and real. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them, particularly Finnikin and Evajalin, the novice. I believe good conflicts can create strong characters. Evajalin and Finnikin face painful choices and consequences as they make their way to Lumatere to fulfill what they both know is their destiny. They do it with a love for their people. They do it knowing it will be hard. They do it even if it seems impossible and they are afraid. Oh how I love characters who are imperfect and scared senseless but who try anyway. Evajanlin in particular is a great underdog. I have more to say about her...next.
The feminist themes: Finally a heroine who reflects real women! Why? One word - vulnerability. And a few more words. Evanjalin is strong. She is strong because in spite of her weaknesses, she faces the daunting task of taking her people home with courage. She knows she cannot do it alone, and she is not afraid to ask for help. She makes sacrifices for her people that no one else is willing to make. She falls in love, too! And she plans on marrying him! Imagine that. A woman can be vulnerable, strong and in love. And men don't pose a threat! Finally a writer who gets it. Independence does not equal strength of character. Rather, facing difficulty, looking for help, loving others honestly, being true to yourself - this is what makes for a real and good heroine with strength of character. And one that is believable, to boot!!! Again, Marchetta rocks!
There are a few things...well that I didn't love but that I didn't hate either. The denouement was long. The story centers on two intertwining conflicts. The first was resolved a little too quickly and the second a little too slowly. And I thought that there were some gratuitous sexual references and moments that were entirely unnecessary. And I still want something bigger...a bit more epic. Perhaps that was due to the ending being a bit anti-climatic. But overall, I loved it and highly recommend it.
View all my reviews
Finnikin of the Rock by Melina MarchettaMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Thank you Melina Marchetta - this was beautiful. Trust someone with Marchetta's skill to deliver a fantasy story filled with believable, developed characters. My faith in young adult fantasy literature is restored!
Finnikin of the Rock is the story of a young man who, in his childhood, commits himself to the protection of his kingdom, its royal family, and all the citizens of Lumatere. Little does he know that he will become the standard-bearer of his people after their kingdom is conquered and a vast number of Lumatere is sent into exile. Finnikin must find the courage to gather his people and lead them against the enemy king.
I was looking for epic because the last few young adult fantasy novels I read fell short, far short, of epic. And while I'm not sure that I would call Finnikin of the Rock epic, it comes close. However...and more importantly...it is just plain well written.
The conflict: Good conflicts are relatable conflicts. Good conflicts center on a reality that exists in our world and speak to modern problems, even if they are set in a world of fantasy. Finnikin of the Rock does just that. Displaced people looking for a homeland; countries seeking puppets for purposes of going to war; inhumane treatment of exiled people. It isn't hard to see the modern atrocities of violence and war in the Middle East or the horrors in Darfur reflected in the conflict here. And Marchetta doesn't pull punches. She portrays the violence, particularly against women and children, with heart-rending honesty. In fact, I caution more sensitive readers. While she is in no way gratuitous, she does tell it like it is. It brought a few tears to my eyes. War is beastly.
The characters: I loved them because they felt developed and real. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them, particularly Finnikin and Evajalin, the novice. I believe good conflicts can create strong characters. Evajalin and Finnikin face painful choices and consequences as they make their way to Lumatere to fulfill what they both know is their destiny. They do it with a love for their people. They do it knowing it will be hard. They do it even if it seems impossible and they are afraid. Oh how I love characters who are imperfect and scared senseless but who try anyway. Evajanlin in particular is a great underdog. I have more to say about her...next.
The feminist themes: Finally a heroine who reflects real women! Why? One word - vulnerability. And a few more words. Evanjalin is strong. She is strong because in spite of her weaknesses, she faces the daunting task of taking her people home with courage. She knows she cannot do it alone, and she is not afraid to ask for help. She makes sacrifices for her people that no one else is willing to make. She falls in love, too! And she plans on marrying him! Imagine that. A woman can be vulnerable, strong and in love. And men don't pose a threat! Finally a writer who gets it. Independence does not equal strength of character. Rather, facing difficulty, looking for help, loving others honestly, being true to yourself - this is what makes for a real and good heroine with strength of character. And one that is believable, to boot!!! Again, Marchetta rocks!
There are a few things...well that I didn't love but that I didn't hate either. The denouement was long. The story centers on two intertwining conflicts. The first was resolved a little too quickly and the second a little too slowly. And I thought that there were some gratuitous sexual references and moments that were entirely unnecessary. And I still want something bigger...a bit more epic. Perhaps that was due to the ending being a bit anti-climatic. But overall, I loved it and highly recommend it.
View all my reviews
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I Thought I Could...
But I just can't. I finished a really great book today called Finnikin of the Rock. I was starting to write my review.
But basically I've been up since before five this morning. And I stayed up with my niece and nephew last night watching New Moon. Not for the movie so much as for the company because I knew I would be leaving in the morning and I wanted to spend more time with them before I left. And sometimes sacrifices have to be made. So I took one for the team and sucked it up.
And now I'm trying to write a review worthy of the book I just finished, and well, I can't. I'm too tired to give it the attention and detail I think it deserves.
Which has me wondering why I write book reviews. I mean, a few of my friends read them on goodreads. And probably a few more of the friends on goodreads skim them over. So why do I care? I just love to write, and I love it when I read a book that I can really get into. I can write less that flattering review for a book that I did not like pretty easily. Probably because it is much easier to tear something apart.
I wonder what that says about me?...Um...???
But when it comes to a good book that I really want to praise - it isn't as easy and I guess I want to do it justice. Perhaps because I believe the author gave it all she had. Because she cared about what she was writing. It makes me care about what I write in response. So tomorrow, tomorrow. Tomorrow I will have the energy to write what I know I can write. In the mean time, read Finnikin of the Rock. Trust me. It was goooooooood!
But basically I've been up since before five this morning. And I stayed up with my niece and nephew last night watching New Moon. Not for the movie so much as for the company because I knew I would be leaving in the morning and I wanted to spend more time with them before I left. And sometimes sacrifices have to be made. So I took one for the team and sucked it up.
And now I'm trying to write a review worthy of the book I just finished, and well, I can't. I'm too tired to give it the attention and detail I think it deserves.
Which has me wondering why I write book reviews. I mean, a few of my friends read them on goodreads. And probably a few more of the friends on goodreads skim them over. So why do I care? I just love to write, and I love it when I read a book that I can really get into. I can write less that flattering review for a book that I did not like pretty easily. Probably because it is much easier to tear something apart.
I wonder what that says about me?...Um...???
But when it comes to a good book that I really want to praise - it isn't as easy and I guess I want to do it justice. Perhaps because I believe the author gave it all she had. Because she cared about what she was writing. It makes me care about what I write in response. So tomorrow, tomorrow. Tomorrow I will have the energy to write what I know I can write. In the mean time, read Finnikin of the Rock. Trust me. It was goooooooood!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Perfect Endings
I go back to Texas tomorrow. It's sort of a bitter sweet moment. I haven't wanted to stay in Utah for a long, long time. And I love TXas...and I'm excited to see family and friends. But for the first time in years...YEARS!!! I want to stay.But as endings go...this one isn't too bad. Sitting by the pool with my best friend Dawn. Watching the sun set over the mountains. Looking out at the valley. What a perfect ending to a really really great trip.
Monday, July 18, 2011
The Unexpected
It surprises me, love does. My nephew Chris is staying here with my parents in Utah.
He's only thirteen.
He makes me smile.
I only see him once a year, maybe less. I wish I could see him more often.
I have a tender spot in my heart for the boy. It sort of crept up on me yesterday when I watched him a few hours after his parents and family had left. He was there, on the couch, just looking sort of lost. I couldn't help but feel love for him. I wondered what was going through his thirteen-year-old mind. What did he think about being away from his family like that?
And then I got to spend the day with him. He's sweet. He's sort of still in the young, unsure of himself phase. But he is surprisingly kind. No sarcasm. No angst. Just a kid trying to find himself.
When I look at him, I see so much of my brother. I see so much of his youth and so much of his good heart.
It is a beautiful thing to love someone. It's a gift to be able to see them, really see them, and know how important they are. Even with the imperfections. It's especially beautiful when you recognize just how much you love someone in those unexpected moments.
He's only thirteen.
He makes me smile.
I only see him once a year, maybe less. I wish I could see him more often.
I have a tender spot in my heart for the boy. It sort of crept up on me yesterday when I watched him a few hours after his parents and family had left. He was there, on the couch, just looking sort of lost. I couldn't help but feel love for him. I wondered what was going through his thirteen-year-old mind. What did he think about being away from his family like that?
And then I got to spend the day with him. He's sweet. He's sort of still in the young, unsure of himself phase. But he is surprisingly kind. No sarcasm. No angst. Just a kid trying to find himself.
When I look at him, I see so much of my brother. I see so much of his youth and so much of his good heart.
It is a beautiful thing to love someone. It's a gift to be able to see them, really see them, and know how important they are. Even with the imperfections. It's especially beautiful when you recognize just how much you love someone in those unexpected moments.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Being and Doing
I just read this really wonderful talk from April General Conference on being and doing. The speaker said that we should not confuse an action with who we are. So, for example, I tell a lie. The lie is an action. What if I then go about calling myself a liar? A liar is a state of being - something I am. But is telling a lie enough to make me a liar? Someone who is dishonest always? I don't think so.
And yet I do label myself with words like "lazy" or "uncommitted." If I really think about it, those words are not who I am. Certainly sometimes I don't do the work I need to, or I can't make up my mind. But those words don't define who I am. Laziness doesn't beget a law degree - nor does uncommitted. Of course, there is the temptation to label others as well...based solely on one incident or action.
So for me, the take-away is this. Actions do matter. But I need to be more careful about the way I talk to myself about who I am. If I do something that I know I shouldn't, I need to be careful that I don't then label myself based on that one action but instead make a commitment to do better. Conversely, I do need to notice patterns of behavior that are consistent - either good habits or bad habits. Those things I need to watch. Those things I need to either foster or discourage.
And yet I do label myself with words like "lazy" or "uncommitted." If I really think about it, those words are not who I am. Certainly sometimes I don't do the work I need to, or I can't make up my mind. But those words don't define who I am. Laziness doesn't beget a law degree - nor does uncommitted. Of course, there is the temptation to label others as well...based solely on one incident or action.
So for me, the take-away is this. Actions do matter. But I need to be more careful about the way I talk to myself about who I am. If I do something that I know I shouldn't, I need to be careful that I don't then label myself based on that one action but instead make a commitment to do better. Conversely, I do need to notice patterns of behavior that are consistent - either good habits or bad habits. Those things I need to watch. Those things I need to either foster or discourage.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Questions
The only way to know the answers to life's questions is to live...at least that is what I am told. Or it is what the poet, Rilke, said.
"...Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
Oh to have patience with and love the questions! I suppose, though, that the questions are the great adventure of life. We don't know how things will turn out in the end. And the only way to find out how anything will turn out is to get up and live life. I am full of questions - mostly of the "what should I do with my life" variety. Like should I stay in Texas? Should I try to be a lawyer? Should I move to Utah? I sometimes wish I could be told what to do...and I think it would be so much easier.
It wouldn't. The only think I can really do is try, look, pray, and try some more. I do believe that answers come through living and trying. And of course there is the Spirit. I know that I am not alone in my "quest" for the answers. As it turns out, it seems to me that it all comes back to faith. I have to have faith in God that He will guide me by the Spirit to the right outcomes and in myself that I will have the courage to live the questions.
"...Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
Oh to have patience with and love the questions! I suppose, though, that the questions are the great adventure of life. We don't know how things will turn out in the end. And the only way to find out how anything will turn out is to get up and live life. I am full of questions - mostly of the "what should I do with my life" variety. Like should I stay in Texas? Should I try to be a lawyer? Should I move to Utah? I sometimes wish I could be told what to do...and I think it would be so much easier.
It wouldn't. The only think I can really do is try, look, pray, and try some more. I do believe that answers come through living and trying. And of course there is the Spirit. I know that I am not alone in my "quest" for the answers. As it turns out, it seems to me that it all comes back to faith. I have to have faith in God that He will guide me by the Spirit to the right outcomes and in myself that I will have the courage to live the questions.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The Happenings
You know I haven't seen Aunt Nancy or Uncle Dan in several years. Isn't that strange to think that you have blood relatives that you rarely see. I mean, we share DNA. I guess that is what happens when you get older.
Went to lunch today with my cousin Amanda. Our dads are brothers. So we went over to her parents (thus the visit with my aunt and uncle).
But what do I love especially about that visit? That I could feel completely at ease, even if we hadn't see each other for so long. That I could give them all a big hug and be excited to see them and say hi. I love that about family. Since Amanda and I stayed close over the years, it makes it easy. I'm just really grateful for family!
Oh, and guess what tomorrow is? July 15, 2011. And guess what I am going to see? HP! The last installment of the Harry Potter movies. I mean, it's pretty awesome, is what! Cannot wait!
And those are the happenings of the day.
Went to lunch today with my cousin Amanda. Our dads are brothers. So we went over to her parents (thus the visit with my aunt and uncle).
But what do I love especially about that visit? That I could feel completely at ease, even if we hadn't see each other for so long. That I could give them all a big hug and be excited to see them and say hi. I love that about family. Since Amanda and I stayed close over the years, it makes it easy. I'm just really grateful for family!
Oh, and guess what tomorrow is? July 15, 2011. And guess what I am going to see? HP! The last installment of the Harry Potter movies. I mean, it's pretty awesome, is what! Cannot wait!
And those are the happenings of the day.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Mountains Mountains Everywhere
Yesterday my bff Dawn and I went to the Provo Canyon trail and took ourselves a little walk. Well, it wasn't so little. We walked for about an hour and a half. And we were moving quickly. Oh it was lovely. So now on this trip I've been to Provo, Hobble Creek and Payson Canyons, and I've hiked the Y. So that's a lot of time in the mountains, which I won't complain about. Since I love the canyons and the mountains and such. It's so beautiful here, especially because of all the snow and rain they've had. It's a green summer in the UT! And I like it.
But last night brought back lots of memories...good memories.
So we used to go rollerblading in Provo Canyon...me and my Brick Oven crew, usually. And you know how there are certain smells that make you remember things. Well Provo Canyon has such smells. And sights. And sounds. Even the way the river cools the trail down was familiar. You will be moving a long and you'll feel this cold patch of air. The river is moving really quickly this time of year because of all the snow and rain that I mentioned. And so you really feel the cold patches a lot.
So there we were, walking along, and remembering. Oh, I am grateful for good memories of fun times in college. I loved my college days. I don't want to go back. I'm content to think about the good times, the good friends, the rollerblading adventures in Provo Canyon.
Like the first time I went (rollerblading that is). Let me regale you with a story from my youth! We were blading down the trail, and thankfully I was wearing pads, especially on my wrists and elbows. I had rented my rollerblades from a store at BYU. There we were, over halfway back to the car, cruising along and enjoying the ride when a wheel popped off the back of one of my skates. I was on my trash quicker than you can say lickity split! Tammy, the darling girl that she is, stayed with me. Of course, I had no shoes...so how was I to walk down? And there was no fixing the rollerblade. It was done! Much to my great happiness, along came my gentleman rescuer! He carried me, piggy-back style, to his car. And then he drove me down the canyon to my waiting friends.
I ended up buying rollerblades at his store and going on a date with the boy. He did rescue me after all. There was zero romantic connection...unfortunately. Because how cool would that be to say that I met my future spouse after tragically falling on my bum on the Provo Canyon trail? That would be super awesome. Oh what good times!
I never thought I would say this...but! I heart Utah Valley!
But last night brought back lots of memories...good memories.
So we used to go rollerblading in Provo Canyon...me and my Brick Oven crew, usually. And you know how there are certain smells that make you remember things. Well Provo Canyon has such smells. And sights. And sounds. Even the way the river cools the trail down was familiar. You will be moving a long and you'll feel this cold patch of air. The river is moving really quickly this time of year because of all the snow and rain that I mentioned. And so you really feel the cold patches a lot.
So there we were, walking along, and remembering. Oh, I am grateful for good memories of fun times in college. I loved my college days. I don't want to go back. I'm content to think about the good times, the good friends, the rollerblading adventures in Provo Canyon.
Like the first time I went (rollerblading that is). Let me regale you with a story from my youth! We were blading down the trail, and thankfully I was wearing pads, especially on my wrists and elbows. I had rented my rollerblades from a store at BYU. There we were, over halfway back to the car, cruising along and enjoying the ride when a wheel popped off the back of one of my skates. I was on my trash quicker than you can say lickity split! Tammy, the darling girl that she is, stayed with me. Of course, I had no shoes...so how was I to walk down? And there was no fixing the rollerblade. It was done! Much to my great happiness, along came my gentleman rescuer! He carried me, piggy-back style, to his car. And then he drove me down the canyon to my waiting friends.
I ended up buying rollerblades at his store and going on a date with the boy. He did rescue me after all. There was zero romantic connection...unfortunately. Because how cool would that be to say that I met my future spouse after tragically falling on my bum on the Provo Canyon trail? That would be super awesome. Oh what good times!
I never thought I would say this...but! I heart Utah Valley!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
My Grandpa
Today I walked by my grandpa's room. He lives with my parents. He was looking out the window, and it seemed to me that he must be having some deep thoughts.
I wonder. What is it like in that 97 year old body? 97 years old!!! Wow. That is a lot of living. And now his time is short, really short. He has dementia. He does not know what day it is or who I am. He doesn't drive anymore. He cannot hear and does not want to wear his hearing aids. He says very little to anyone anymore.
And I painfully wonder why he is still here. Not because I don't love him. I do. However, I wonder what kind of life it is for him. No real connection or contact with the world outside his mind. He lives there, all alone with just his muddled thoughts. Perhaps he sits and remembers all the things that used to be. Maybe he thinks of my grandma, who has been dead for over a decade.
He lived a good life, a productive life. He labored hard well into his seventies before my dad had to keep him from coming to the job. Because he couldn't do the heavy work required of someone in the construction industry. And then he wrote, a lot. My grandpa is a thinker. He wrote letters to the editor. He wrote letters to his children and grandchildren. He wrote journal entries, even up until last year. Although he thought it was Christmas in July.
But even that has now stopped. I see him pick up the paper and leaf through it. He might ask you if there is something on t.v., and then he sits quietly and watches with you. I'm not sure if he follows anything. Because he probably can't hear what is going on, and he has no short term memory, really.
It makes my heart ache inside to watch him.
I want to remember him differently. I want to remember sitting down with him in his office so he could tell me stories about his childhood or how he joined the church and gave up cigarettes. I want to see the stacks of genealogy he would work on, even after my grandma was gone. I even want to see him behind the wheel of his truck, driving to the store to buy fritters and fried chicken...his two favorites.
My grandpa - he was smart and plucky. Mostly he was so generous. Generous to a fault. He didn't care so much about things as he did about people. And he literally would give you the shirt off of his back, even if it was the only one he had. I remember he once scolded me for having too many pairs of shoes. He then told me he had worn the same pair of shoes for nine years! I remember that my grandma said, "Oh Jennings. It's different. She's young! You leave her alone!" Maybe he had a point, though. That things aren't that important...that they are only as important as we make them out to be.
I guess my hope is that one day, when he's gone, that I will remember him as he once was. That I'll remember him showing me the pictures of his 60-plus grandchildren. That I'll remember him telling me how he loved my grandma the first time he saw her. That I'll remember him roasting hot dogs over the fire with us. That mostly I will remember just how much I love him.
I wonder. What is it like in that 97 year old body? 97 years old!!! Wow. That is a lot of living. And now his time is short, really short. He has dementia. He does not know what day it is or who I am. He doesn't drive anymore. He cannot hear and does not want to wear his hearing aids. He says very little to anyone anymore.
And I painfully wonder why he is still here. Not because I don't love him. I do. However, I wonder what kind of life it is for him. No real connection or contact with the world outside his mind. He lives there, all alone with just his muddled thoughts. Perhaps he sits and remembers all the things that used to be. Maybe he thinks of my grandma, who has been dead for over a decade.
He lived a good life, a productive life. He labored hard well into his seventies before my dad had to keep him from coming to the job. Because he couldn't do the heavy work required of someone in the construction industry. And then he wrote, a lot. My grandpa is a thinker. He wrote letters to the editor. He wrote letters to his children and grandchildren. He wrote journal entries, even up until last year. Although he thought it was Christmas in July.
But even that has now stopped. I see him pick up the paper and leaf through it. He might ask you if there is something on t.v., and then he sits quietly and watches with you. I'm not sure if he follows anything. Because he probably can't hear what is going on, and he has no short term memory, really.
It makes my heart ache inside to watch him.
I want to remember him differently. I want to remember sitting down with him in his office so he could tell me stories about his childhood or how he joined the church and gave up cigarettes. I want to see the stacks of genealogy he would work on, even after my grandma was gone. I even want to see him behind the wheel of his truck, driving to the store to buy fritters and fried chicken...his two favorites.
My grandpa - he was smart and plucky. Mostly he was so generous. Generous to a fault. He didn't care so much about things as he did about people. And he literally would give you the shirt off of his back, even if it was the only one he had. I remember he once scolded me for having too many pairs of shoes. He then told me he had worn the same pair of shoes for nine years! I remember that my grandma said, "Oh Jennings. It's different. She's young! You leave her alone!" Maybe he had a point, though. That things aren't that important...that they are only as important as we make them out to be.
I guess my hope is that one day, when he's gone, that I will remember him as he once was. That I'll remember him showing me the pictures of his 60-plus grandchildren. That I'll remember him telling me how he loved my grandma the first time he saw her. That I'll remember him roasting hot dogs over the fire with us. That mostly I will remember just how much I love him.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Customer Service Is Not Dead
Schew and what a relief to know that some companies still think that customer service is valuable!
So I made a big mistake transferring money from one bank account to another. You see, I keep most of my cash...well, what little there is...in a savings account with one bank. I keep the money to pay bills and such in another. And I just transfer money from savings every month.
This should not be a hard task, folks. I do it all the time.
But last week, I switched the order of the accounts in the transfer. I didn't have the money in my checking account to go into my savings account. And so, naturally, I had an overdraft fee! This has never, in the seventeen or eighteen years I've had a bank account, happened. NEVER! I do not overdraft on my accounts.
Needless to say, I was embarrassed by my error and called both banks immediately to see what could be done to rectify the situation. And do you know what happened? In less than ten minutes, the problem was solved. SOLVED I tell you! My savings account bank gladly helped me out by sending the needed money into my checking account and then, when scheduled will take back the money I had scheduled to transfer. Then my checking account bank happily forgave the overdraft fee, considering it was an honest mistake that led to this little problem, and sent me on my way.
Of course after offering up my profuse thanks to both customer service agents, I breathed a sigh of relief and was able to calm my fears of financial crisis and ruin! Okay, so maybe it wasn't so bad, but still, I mean I have NEVER overdrafted my account! So...
And it just left me feeling grateful that there are companies out there that still care about making their customers happy by providing good service. So a big hug and a thanks go out to both banks! I appreciate your help!
So I made a big mistake transferring money from one bank account to another. You see, I keep most of my cash...well, what little there is...in a savings account with one bank. I keep the money to pay bills and such in another. And I just transfer money from savings every month.
This should not be a hard task, folks. I do it all the time.
But last week, I switched the order of the accounts in the transfer. I didn't have the money in my checking account to go into my savings account. And so, naturally, I had an overdraft fee! This has never, in the seventeen or eighteen years I've had a bank account, happened. NEVER! I do not overdraft on my accounts.
Needless to say, I was embarrassed by my error and called both banks immediately to see what could be done to rectify the situation. And do you know what happened? In less than ten minutes, the problem was solved. SOLVED I tell you! My savings account bank gladly helped me out by sending the needed money into my checking account and then, when scheduled will take back the money I had scheduled to transfer. Then my checking account bank happily forgave the overdraft fee, considering it was an honest mistake that led to this little problem, and sent me on my way.
Of course after offering up my profuse thanks to both customer service agents, I breathed a sigh of relief and was able to calm my fears of financial crisis and ruin! Okay, so maybe it wasn't so bad, but still, I mean I have NEVER overdrafted my account! So...
And it just left me feeling grateful that there are companies out there that still care about making their customers happy by providing good service. So a big hug and a thanks go out to both banks! I appreciate your help!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
You Have To Do Stuff
So today I went to a "mid-singles" ward. Whatever mid-singles is supposed to mean. I've been completely opposed to the idea for the past several years. Of course, it hasn't been an option for me because there has not been a mid-singles ward in my area. Today a friend of mine invited me to come with her to check it out. Since I'm in Utah and since I do not have to commit to it, I went.
And I was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps my prejudices were not totally fair. I assumed some things that were not necessarily true. Like that all the men there would be much older than me. But it wasn't that way...people seemed to be in their thirties, at least mostly in their thirties. I mean, I don't know what dating would be like in those wards. However, perhaps I should just remember that I was wrong about the age and not make assumptions that I've been prone to making in the past.
End conclusion is that you can't judge something you haven't experienced. You have to find out what it is like for yourself. That and maybe...just maybe I need to be more open to new experiences. After all, a good attitude and an open mind go a long way.
And I was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps my prejudices were not totally fair. I assumed some things that were not necessarily true. Like that all the men there would be much older than me. But it wasn't that way...people seemed to be in their thirties, at least mostly in their thirties. I mean, I don't know what dating would be like in those wards. However, perhaps I should just remember that I was wrong about the age and not make assumptions that I've been prone to making in the past.
End conclusion is that you can't judge something you haven't experienced. You have to find out what it is like for yourself. That and maybe...just maybe I need to be more open to new experiences. After all, a good attitude and an open mind go a long way.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
The Valley
When I was a small tyke...like four or five, I used to look out over the valley of Utah (i.e., Utah County) from our front porch. it seemed like a big place. I would look out at West Mountain, and I wondered what was over those peaks. I didn't know it was more of Utah. I thought Utah was just the valley and that everything beyond the mountains was some other state or place. It's sort of funny how small the world is when you are only four or five.
Now I know better, of course. I know that this is just a small part of a much larger state. I know that the mountains don't even enclose all of Utah County, really.
The world is a big place. And this place is only a small part of it. But I miss it.
It's strange to feel torn between here and the rest of the world. I have lived all over these United States. And I love that. I have wanderlust. But this week has been different. Every time I look at Mount Loafer, I feel a twinge of homesickness. And then a longing sets in...a longing for home. Can anything ever be more familiar than the place you grow up? It becomes embedded in you. I've wandered the streets of Newark. I've driven all over Northern Virginia and D.C. I've even explored Rockwall, Texas and Las Vegas. And they are all fine places.
Okay maybe that is a lie. Newark is far from fine. Interesting. Eye-opening...but not fine.
Yet nothing is like this valley. Nothing. Nothing is home the way these mountains are home. I love them. If only. If only I could get a good job here that would pay all the bills. If only I could build a house that looked out on Mount Loafer. I'd get up every day and look at that mountain. I don't know if I could ever get tired of it.
Maybe home becomes dearer because you are away from it. Maybe. Oh my cursed wanderlust...it actually might be dying. Maybe I just want to come home.
Now I know better, of course. I know that this is just a small part of a much larger state. I know that the mountains don't even enclose all of Utah County, really.
The world is a big place. And this place is only a small part of it. But I miss it.
It's strange to feel torn between here and the rest of the world. I have lived all over these United States. And I love that. I have wanderlust. But this week has been different. Every time I look at Mount Loafer, I feel a twinge of homesickness. And then a longing sets in...a longing for home. Can anything ever be more familiar than the place you grow up? It becomes embedded in you. I've wandered the streets of Newark. I've driven all over Northern Virginia and D.C. I've even explored Rockwall, Texas and Las Vegas. And they are all fine places.
Okay maybe that is a lie. Newark is far from fine. Interesting. Eye-opening...but not fine.
Yet nothing is like this valley. Nothing. Nothing is home the way these mountains are home. I love them. If only. If only I could get a good job here that would pay all the bills. If only I could build a house that looked out on Mount Loafer. I'd get up every day and look at that mountain. I don't know if I could ever get tired of it.
Maybe home becomes dearer because you are away from it. Maybe. Oh my cursed wanderlust...it actually might be dying. Maybe I just want to come home.
Friday, July 8, 2011
The List
You know, I love to cheer for a friend. I was super excited when I found out that a friend from BYU had a book. And that book was being published! Awesome. I just got to read it. And it is a keeper!
The List by Melanie Jacobson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I'm not going to lie to you. Confession number one: I do not read LDS literature anymore. I did as a young adult. I did a little in my college days. But I haven't even entered a Deseret Bookstore in about ten years. LDS literature has not been anywhere on my radar. Confession number two: chick-lit has never been my genre. I've read a few books here. I've read a few books there. But it's never been my fave. Confession number three: I know the author. We worked together...at the Limited. And we were in the same major...back in the BYU days. She's a friend. She's smart and sassy. Most importantly, she's a great writer!
All confessions, and possible prejudices aside, The List was, in a word, adorable. And in another, delightful. And in just one more, entertaining! And isn't that just perfect for a lazy summer afternoon with not much to do? It is. It truly is.
So Ashley, a really beautiful and somewhat unconventional, Mormon girl moves to Huntington Beach with two goals in mind. Learn to surf and hook up with a hottie for some summer lovin! Once they are off her "list"? She can go on to graduate school in good old Provo without a care in the world. But when she starts to really fall for her summer fling, Ashley has to reassess what matters most.
I kind of hearted this book, and here is why:
1. The main character, Ashley, has a backbone and she's smart. But she's funny, too. She is someone who, in real life, would totally be my bff. I liked her that much. And that is because she seems like a real person. I'm a Mormon and a single girl. I totally related to Ashley.
2. I loved the dialogue. It felt like real conversation. I find that many authors struggle to make dialogue mimic real life. Not so here. And that only made the characters all the more developed and real.
3. It's light. And sometimes that is just what you want...a story that is fun and that doesn't take itself too seriously.
4. This is slightly embarrassing to admit, but I loved all the Mormon trappings. I suppose that in my more "worldly" or "intellectual" moods, I think that Mormon literature focuses too much on Mormonisms...i.e., references to institute or wards or linger longer. Maybe it's because I haven't read such novels in a long time that I found the references refreshing and fun.
5. The romance had my heart pitter-pattering! I'm not 24 anymore, but isn't crushing on someone one of the great pleasures of life? And then falling in love...well, that is the great pleasure of life! Am I right? I am right. And the romance here was perfect.
6. Finally, she gets the whole singles ward culture. I lived it (for too many years). And this was an honest and real representation of the culture that exists in an LDS singles ward.
So go out and read it! And congratulations Melanie...well played!
View all my reviews
The List by Melanie JacobsonMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
I'm not going to lie to you. Confession number one: I do not read LDS literature anymore. I did as a young adult. I did a little in my college days. But I haven't even entered a Deseret Bookstore in about ten years. LDS literature has not been anywhere on my radar. Confession number two: chick-lit has never been my genre. I've read a few books here. I've read a few books there. But it's never been my fave. Confession number three: I know the author. We worked together...at the Limited. And we were in the same major...back in the BYU days. She's a friend. She's smart and sassy. Most importantly, she's a great writer!
All confessions, and possible prejudices aside, The List was, in a word, adorable. And in another, delightful. And in just one more, entertaining! And isn't that just perfect for a lazy summer afternoon with not much to do? It is. It truly is.
So Ashley, a really beautiful and somewhat unconventional, Mormon girl moves to Huntington Beach with two goals in mind. Learn to surf and hook up with a hottie for some summer lovin! Once they are off her "list"? She can go on to graduate school in good old Provo without a care in the world. But when she starts to really fall for her summer fling, Ashley has to reassess what matters most.
I kind of hearted this book, and here is why:
1. The main character, Ashley, has a backbone and she's smart. But she's funny, too. She is someone who, in real life, would totally be my bff. I liked her that much. And that is because she seems like a real person. I'm a Mormon and a single girl. I totally related to Ashley.
2. I loved the dialogue. It felt like real conversation. I find that many authors struggle to make dialogue mimic real life. Not so here. And that only made the characters all the more developed and real.
3. It's light. And sometimes that is just what you want...a story that is fun and that doesn't take itself too seriously.
4. This is slightly embarrassing to admit, but I loved all the Mormon trappings. I suppose that in my more "worldly" or "intellectual" moods, I think that Mormon literature focuses too much on Mormonisms...i.e., references to institute or wards or linger longer. Maybe it's because I haven't read such novels in a long time that I found the references refreshing and fun.
5. The romance had my heart pitter-pattering! I'm not 24 anymore, but isn't crushing on someone one of the great pleasures of life? And then falling in love...well, that is the great pleasure of life! Am I right? I am right. And the romance here was perfect.
6. Finally, she gets the whole singles ward culture. I lived it (for too many years). And this was an honest and real representation of the culture that exists in an LDS singles ward.
So go out and read it! And congratulations Melanie...well played!
View all my reviews
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Graceling
My latest book review. Sadly, this story was disappointing.
Graceling by Kristin Cashore
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
What I want is epic. You know? EPIC! However, what am I getting? Meh. You know you just aren't that into a book when it takes you three weeks to complete it. You put it down after two or three chapters because, well, you sort of just feel a little bored by it. You don't pick it up for a few days because you don't feel excited to find out what happens next.
A few days ago I wished for 250,000 dollars. I could pay off my student loan debt and get started with my life. My brother laughed and said, "As long as you are wishing, why not wish big...why not wish for millions? It is a wish, right?" That it is! So why not go big?
That is just one of many things I found disappointing about this story. It isn't big. And as long as we are talking about a fictional story, why not make it epic? WHY NOT? Epic like Lord of the Rings. Epic like Harry Potter. Epic like The Odyssey or The Iliad.
So Katsa is this young woman who is "graced"...that is, gifted with a special ability. The ability to fight and to kill. Anyone. Or even everyone. Even an army, if she must. There are other gracelings in her kingdom and in the surrounding kingdoms. Each of them, however, are graced with something unique, for example mind-reading. Katsa, like almost all gracelings, is being used by her king for her skills. And she is beginning to resent it. You can imagine what happens next.
So here is what I think.
1. More of that whole telling instead of showing going on. It wasn't as frustrating as it was in Clockwork Angel. But it was still happening far too much.
2. The actions scenes were dull, at least most of the time. Here is where the epic part comes in. You know that scene in Lord of the Rings when the Fellowship of the Ring passes through the Mines of Moria. Tolkien describes not only the massiveness of the mines and of the actual kingdom carved under the mountain, but when the orcs come out, well, they come out in hoards. It's an enormous swarm of scary and violent creatures. Then the Balrog makes its appearance, and it feels creepy/scary and such. That is what makes Tolkien's story so compelling. The battles, and not just the battle in Moria but ALL of his battles, are massive and impossible and intense. The kingdoms feel like they are larger than life. Again, it's fiction. So why not make it big?
But here? Here we get undeveloped moments...moments where a few bad guys come out and chase people for a few days or weeks. Yawn. Katsa passes over a mountain range in the winter. But it takes what feels like a few days and nothing really all that exciting happens, save a fight with a mountain lion which is, at best, an anticlimactic fight. And then there is the so-called climax. It was so...so...small. Disappointing. Even predictable.
3. Things felt far too convenient. When a character has a skill or a talent that is superhuman, the skill or talent must be kept within boundaries. I think a lot of young adult fantasy fiction falls short of great or even good because there are no rules for these characters who have supernatural abilities. No real conflict can occur because the antagonist will always fail against the protagonist's omnipotence. Always.
And I suppose that goes to the whole epic problem. If Katsa can be beat by absolutely no one, even if that no one comes in the form of an enormous army, then what is the point of a conflict? There can't be any real conflict. Hello...even Achilles had his heal.
If you want a good conflict, one that feels like an honest fight, the hero has to have at least a modicum of vulnerability, and not just in an "Oh, people use me for my superhuman ability to kill others. I feel like a barbarian. I can't make friends, and no one will like me. Even though I do have lots of friends who really care about me" sort of way. It's so unauthentic. Harry Potter really is up against an enemy whose skills are far superior and much more frightening. Frodo really is outmatched and over his head. What makes them compelling? Courage. We relate to these characters because in real life people face obstacles and challenges that they have to overcome. Obstacles that seem bigger than us and even impossible at times.
4. The feminist themes were forced. I don't mind that Katsa didn't want to be married or have children. I didn't really even mind that she decided to be Po's lover and not his wife, even if I morally disagree. What I did mind? The idea that if you are married, you are trapped. Ridiculous. Untrue. Or that "open" relationships work just fine for people. Please. Human beings are JEALOUS! If either Po or Katsa were to decide to take a "lover" and then come back to each other, they would never, ever make it. Who do writers think they are fooling with this drivel? People have been watching too much Sex and the City (don't get me started on the idiocy that is that show). Infidelity in any form maims any sense of trust. And is that really what feminism stands for? Really? That a committed, trusting relationship holds a woman back? But that is just one more thing that makes these particular characters flat and uncompelling. There is nothing human or real about them. They conveniently fit the author's agenda instead of feeling like real live human beings with honest emotions. In fact, most of the women in the novel felt like forced feminist stereotypes.
Conclusion? Give me a strong protagonist, male or female. One that has honest emotion. One that must face difficult odds and real challenges. One that has to actually put up a real fight to succeed. Then you might have a four or even five star book.
Sadly, just one more book that had potential but fell flat.
View all my reviews
Graceling by Kristin CashoreMy rating: 2 of 5 stars
What I want is epic. You know? EPIC! However, what am I getting? Meh. You know you just aren't that into a book when it takes you three weeks to complete it. You put it down after two or three chapters because, well, you sort of just feel a little bored by it. You don't pick it up for a few days because you don't feel excited to find out what happens next.
A few days ago I wished for 250,000 dollars. I could pay off my student loan debt and get started with my life. My brother laughed and said, "As long as you are wishing, why not wish big...why not wish for millions? It is a wish, right?" That it is! So why not go big?
That is just one of many things I found disappointing about this story. It isn't big. And as long as we are talking about a fictional story, why not make it epic? WHY NOT? Epic like Lord of the Rings. Epic like Harry Potter. Epic like The Odyssey or The Iliad.
So Katsa is this young woman who is "graced"...that is, gifted with a special ability. The ability to fight and to kill. Anyone. Or even everyone. Even an army, if she must. There are other gracelings in her kingdom and in the surrounding kingdoms. Each of them, however, are graced with something unique, for example mind-reading. Katsa, like almost all gracelings, is being used by her king for her skills. And she is beginning to resent it. You can imagine what happens next.
So here is what I think.
1. More of that whole telling instead of showing going on. It wasn't as frustrating as it was in Clockwork Angel. But it was still happening far too much.
2. The actions scenes were dull, at least most of the time. Here is where the epic part comes in. You know that scene in Lord of the Rings when the Fellowship of the Ring passes through the Mines of Moria. Tolkien describes not only the massiveness of the mines and of the actual kingdom carved under the mountain, but when the orcs come out, well, they come out in hoards. It's an enormous swarm of scary and violent creatures. Then the Balrog makes its appearance, and it feels creepy/scary and such. That is what makes Tolkien's story so compelling. The battles, and not just the battle in Moria but ALL of his battles, are massive and impossible and intense. The kingdoms feel like they are larger than life. Again, it's fiction. So why not make it big?
But here? Here we get undeveloped moments...moments where a few bad guys come out and chase people for a few days or weeks. Yawn. Katsa passes over a mountain range in the winter. But it takes what feels like a few days and nothing really all that exciting happens, save a fight with a mountain lion which is, at best, an anticlimactic fight. And then there is the so-called climax. It was so...so...small. Disappointing. Even predictable.
3. Things felt far too convenient. When a character has a skill or a talent that is superhuman, the skill or talent must be kept within boundaries. I think a lot of young adult fantasy fiction falls short of great or even good because there are no rules for these characters who have supernatural abilities. No real conflict can occur because the antagonist will always fail against the protagonist's omnipotence. Always.
And I suppose that goes to the whole epic problem. If Katsa can be beat by absolutely no one, even if that no one comes in the form of an enormous army, then what is the point of a conflict? There can't be any real conflict. Hello...even Achilles had his heal.
If you want a good conflict, one that feels like an honest fight, the hero has to have at least a modicum of vulnerability, and not just in an "Oh, people use me for my superhuman ability to kill others. I feel like a barbarian. I can't make friends, and no one will like me. Even though I do have lots of friends who really care about me" sort of way. It's so unauthentic. Harry Potter really is up against an enemy whose skills are far superior and much more frightening. Frodo really is outmatched and over his head. What makes them compelling? Courage. We relate to these characters because in real life people face obstacles and challenges that they have to overcome. Obstacles that seem bigger than us and even impossible at times.
4. The feminist themes were forced. I don't mind that Katsa didn't want to be married or have children. I didn't really even mind that she decided to be Po's lover and not his wife, even if I morally disagree. What I did mind? The idea that if you are married, you are trapped. Ridiculous. Untrue. Or that "open" relationships work just fine for people. Please. Human beings are JEALOUS! If either Po or Katsa were to decide to take a "lover" and then come back to each other, they would never, ever make it. Who do writers think they are fooling with this drivel? People have been watching too much Sex and the City (don't get me started on the idiocy that is that show). Infidelity in any form maims any sense of trust. And is that really what feminism stands for? Really? That a committed, trusting relationship holds a woman back? But that is just one more thing that makes these particular characters flat and uncompelling. There is nothing human or real about them. They conveniently fit the author's agenda instead of feeling like real live human beings with honest emotions. In fact, most of the women in the novel felt like forced feminist stereotypes.
Conclusion? Give me a strong protagonist, male or female. One that has honest emotion. One that must face difficult odds and real challenges. One that has to actually put up a real fight to succeed. Then you might have a four or even five star book.
Sadly, just one more book that had potential but fell flat.
View all my reviews
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Friends Friends Friends
You just can never ever ever have enough friends. It's what life is all about. Having good friends to cheer you up. Having good friends to laugh with. Having good friends to advise you and see you on your way.
I hiked the Y with Dawn-O today. It was beautiful and peaceful and lovely. And then I went to dinner with my girls from high school. Oh how I love those peeps! I really really do.
That is all!
I hiked the Y with Dawn-O today. It was beautiful and peaceful and lovely. And then I went to dinner with my girls from high school. Oh how I love those peeps! I really really do.
That is all!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Tender Mercies
God is aware of me. And how do I know this? I see little daily blessings that tell me He has not forgotten who I am.
Let us start with this example. Last weekend I went to Stadium of Fire. About 50,000 people attended the show. That is a great number of people. Leaving was a madhouse. Swarms of people exiting the stadium all at once. And there I was with Dawn and a few of her friends when one of those friends stopped a lovely lady walking by us - just to say hi. And who should this guy be saying hi to? A friend of mine from VEGAS! So of course I was very excited and practically screamed her name and clapped for joy. I had no idea we would run into each other. I had no idea she would be there. But there in the midst of literally hoards of people, I run into her. And that was a tender mercy.
She and I had dinner together tonight. It was such a comfort to talk about our lives. I appreciate knowing that someone else out there understands my pain, my sorrows, my woes. I appreciate having a friend who does not just understand that pain, but who can lift me back up anyway. Someone who is willing to help strengthen me. It was like God knew just what I needed - a shot of reassurance that He is aware of me and that just letting me run into a friend in a very unlikely place...all so we could have dinner together and talk.
Well... that IS a tender mercy. That is how I know He knows me. You can call it coincidence if you want. But I don't think that life works that way. And so I am very grateful.
Let us start with this example. Last weekend I went to Stadium of Fire. About 50,000 people attended the show. That is a great number of people. Leaving was a madhouse. Swarms of people exiting the stadium all at once. And there I was with Dawn and a few of her friends when one of those friends stopped a lovely lady walking by us - just to say hi. And who should this guy be saying hi to? A friend of mine from VEGAS! So of course I was very excited and practically screamed her name and clapped for joy. I had no idea we would run into each other. I had no idea she would be there. But there in the midst of literally hoards of people, I run into her. And that was a tender mercy.
She and I had dinner together tonight. It was such a comfort to talk about our lives. I appreciate knowing that someone else out there understands my pain, my sorrows, my woes. I appreciate having a friend who does not just understand that pain, but who can lift me back up anyway. Someone who is willing to help strengthen me. It was like God knew just what I needed - a shot of reassurance that He is aware of me and that just letting me run into a friend in a very unlikely place...all so we could have dinner together and talk.
Well... that IS a tender mercy. That is how I know He knows me. You can call it coincidence if you want. But I don't think that life works that way. And so I am very grateful.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Shopping...
Just isn't fun when...
1. You have no money and only purchase things that are either necessary or ultra cheap. I mean, I am learning to appreciate ultra cheap. And maybe this whole jobless thing is good for teaching me to be wiser with my money. Well, actually it is good for that. But anyway, sometimes you want to buy something really cute, like a lovely lace dress at Downeast Basics. But you cannot justify 45 dollars. When before said joblessness, you thought 45 dollars was a screaming deal.
2. You are in between sizes. I've really gotten much tighter over the past two months because of the steady workouts. How-some-ever...I'm not done. And so I'm in this weird place where I'm not quite in one size or the other. And I need a good two months of steady exercise WITH some proper eating habits before I can get into the smaller size. So I really don't want to buy yet.
3. The trends just seem...not very cute? Or am I getting old. Please someone put me out of my misery if I ever EVER set foot in a Chicos. Because I really don't want to be that person. But then, let's be honest. I probably shouldn't set foot in American Eagle anymore either. So where's a girl to do her shopping is what I'd like to know. I need NYC right now. That and a serious cash infusion.
4. When you are walking through a mall with children. They want to go to Build-a-Bear. You want to get off of your feet. Malls are draining when children are involved.
5. And did I mention that whole lack of cash. Yep, that pretty much takes the wind out of your sails...or should I say "sales" hahahaha! I'm so punny.
Other than that it's the 4th of July...so happy independence day peeps! God bless America!
1. You have no money and only purchase things that are either necessary or ultra cheap. I mean, I am learning to appreciate ultra cheap. And maybe this whole jobless thing is good for teaching me to be wiser with my money. Well, actually it is good for that. But anyway, sometimes you want to buy something really cute, like a lovely lace dress at Downeast Basics. But you cannot justify 45 dollars. When before said joblessness, you thought 45 dollars was a screaming deal.
2. You are in between sizes. I've really gotten much tighter over the past two months because of the steady workouts. How-some-ever...I'm not done. And so I'm in this weird place where I'm not quite in one size or the other. And I need a good two months of steady exercise WITH some proper eating habits before I can get into the smaller size. So I really don't want to buy yet.
3. The trends just seem...not very cute? Or am I getting old. Please someone put me out of my misery if I ever EVER set foot in a Chicos. Because I really don't want to be that person. But then, let's be honest. I probably shouldn't set foot in American Eagle anymore either. So where's a girl to do her shopping is what I'd like to know. I need NYC right now. That and a serious cash infusion.
4. When you are walking through a mall with children. They want to go to Build-a-Bear. You want to get off of your feet. Malls are draining when children are involved.
5. And did I mention that whole lack of cash. Yep, that pretty much takes the wind out of your sails...or should I say "sales" hahahaha! I'm so punny.
Other than that it's the 4th of July...so happy independence day peeps! God bless America!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
It's Official
I'm in love with Brad Paisley. Okay maybe not in love so much as in love with his show and his music. He played about seven songs or so. And I really really really want to go to his concert. And I'm considering dedicating this blog to the brilliance of his songs. Just kidding, sort of. But really, he does write some seriously funny stuff. I love love love that he doesn't take himself too seriously. And that he's a good live performer doesn't hurt the man.
And David Archuleta is a cute little munchkin and a great live performer as well.
So I'm looking forward to some itunes downloads this weekend.
And it is also official that church is awesome, and I'm grateful for obedience. Sometimes I think I've gone to church begrudgingly. Most of the times I go because I'm a believer. And then sometimes I go because I'm being obedient and I want to be obedient, really and truly want to. Like today. It seems like those days are good ones. It wasn't that someone said something that really really stuck out to me or changed me. The lessons were good, though. It wasn't a testimony that someone gave. Although the testimonies were nice. It was more just that the Spirit was there. It was more just that I was with good people. Good people who, like me, want to be obedient. I haven't always felt like that. And feelings like this have a way of ebbing and flowing. That's just the way life is, I suppose. But today I'd just like to remember that church is awesome.
And David Archuleta is a cute little munchkin and a great live performer as well.
So I'm looking forward to some itunes downloads this weekend.
And it is also official that church is awesome, and I'm grateful for obedience. Sometimes I think I've gone to church begrudgingly. Most of the times I go because I'm a believer. And then sometimes I go because I'm being obedient and I want to be obedient, really and truly want to. Like today. It seems like those days are good ones. It wasn't that someone said something that really really stuck out to me or changed me. The lessons were good, though. It wasn't a testimony that someone gave. Although the testimonies were nice. It was more just that the Spirit was there. It was more just that I was with good people. Good people who, like me, want to be obedient. I haven't always felt like that. And feelings like this have a way of ebbing and flowing. That's just the way life is, I suppose. But today I'd just like to remember that church is awesome.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Oh Sweet Freedom
Um just super excited for the Stadium of Fire tonight and for celebrating our nation's sweet freedom!
Brad Paisley is playing. Did you get that? BRAD PAISLEY is playing! I love him. Texas has had it's way with me. I'm becoming a bigger and bigger fan of the country tunes than I would ever want to honestly admit to. Except that I am admitting it right now. And I like Mr. Paisley and his down home country songs. They are pretty funny lots of times. They are pretty cute almost always. Just like him...pretty stinking cute. I think I have to go download some more of his music. And then find out when he's playing in Dallas again. I might have to go to that show!
Oh and then Mr. David Archuleta is also going to be opening - which I am certain will be the thrill of all Utahns present. Especially those of the teenage girl variety. Which is pretty fun. And I like me some David Archuleta, so I won't try to be all high and mighty about my sophisticated taste in music. Because my musical taste is pretty much anything but sophisticated. Even if I do like me some classical music every once and again.
And the fireworks should be pretty nice. But mostly I'm looking forward to feeling patriotic about our country. I love the 4th of July. I love this country. And I especially love bffs like Dawn-O who gets me free tickets to cool things like the Stadium of Fire!
Brad Paisley is playing. Did you get that? BRAD PAISLEY is playing! I love him. Texas has had it's way with me. I'm becoming a bigger and bigger fan of the country tunes than I would ever want to honestly admit to. Except that I am admitting it right now. And I like Mr. Paisley and his down home country songs. They are pretty funny lots of times. They are pretty cute almost always. Just like him...pretty stinking cute. I think I have to go download some more of his music. And then find out when he's playing in Dallas again. I might have to go to that show!
Oh and then Mr. David Archuleta is also going to be opening - which I am certain will be the thrill of all Utahns present. Especially those of the teenage girl variety. Which is pretty fun. And I like me some David Archuleta, so I won't try to be all high and mighty about my sophisticated taste in music. Because my musical taste is pretty much anything but sophisticated. Even if I do like me some classical music every once and again.
And the fireworks should be pretty nice. But mostly I'm looking forward to feeling patriotic about our country. I love the 4th of July. I love this country. And I especially love bffs like Dawn-O who gets me free tickets to cool things like the Stadium of Fire!
Friday, July 1, 2011
I Drove All Night...
Literally. So we left for the UT last night at around five. And we got into Spanish Fork at about 1:30 in the afternoon. As you can imagine, I am exhausted. I forgot how sleeping in anything but an entirely horizontal position just doesn't work for me. I mean, you finally slip into that heavenly bliss that is sleep, and then your neck gets to cramping and crimping and whatever. And so it wakes you up, and you try to reposition yourself. And then it's back to the same thing again. Finally falling asleep only to discover yourself in pain a few minutes later. And then your sister-in-law says she is falling asleep at the wheel at about 5:45 in the a.m. So you get up and drive some more...only after having driven from 10:00 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. But you do it anyway, because well, you can't have the kids dying on you because Mom fell asleep at the wheel. And then you find yourself driving through the mountains of Colorado...which might feel pretty treacherous in the best of driving conditions. Like Friday morning's were, in fact, the best of conditions. Does this make any sense anymore? I'm exhausted.
And that is the end...
And that is the end...
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