i try. i make mistakes. i grow. i love. i love to eat pineapple. i cook and bake whenever i can. thai food is good for my soul. i collect blankets, sweat pants, and crazy socks. i believed i was peter pan when i was a child. i love to love. summertime is my favorite. i love feeling the sun on my face. i have a lot of good intentions. i had a bull cut when i was younger. shakespeare was a genius. i love to laugh. God is everywhere. i love having painted toes. i am very blessed, and i try to "live life, every, every moment"

Friday, May 11, 2012

breaking

I think I am going to put this before every post, so you don't get the idea in your head that I am "trying to be a good writer", or "stealing other people's ideas by......blogging.......".....or whatever silly thing I've heard said about me lately. So, this one's for you:

I'm not a good writer. 

Happy I admitted it? Good, because I could care less.

Secondly, and more importantly:

My heart aches. I am aching, emotionally, and physically. I yearn for answers, and they aren't coming. I yearn for a solution, and I can't find it. I yearn for happiness, and I haven't quite located it all. I ache for support, and it doesn't seem to be coming from where I want it. I'm breaking.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Why I Love America

At some point in my life, I got it into my head that I needed to do everything, and be good at it. So when I was 14 years old, I entered a Speech Competition. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't even like public speaking. Aside from acting, I had no previous experience in it, and it scared the poop out of me. But, I entered it anyway. The theme of the speeches had to do with America, and why we loved it. Tonight, I was going through some old boxes at my house, and I found this speech that I wrote, and had completely forgotten about. So, I'm posting it here so I don't lose it.

__________________________________

Why I love America

Her real name must have been Natalie. I never actually met her, but I think I know her quite well. MY family was sunbathing at a lake when we heard a ruckus. One woman and several children were setting up a barbecue. She was a large woman with long, greasy black hair, and a sunburn peeling off her shoulders. She was wearing a black tank-top with scarlet writing on the front that said "Wild Cheery", and on the back, "Nice and Nasty". All 11 children were obviously offspring: overweight with greasy black hair. Except for one of the girls. She had blonde hair and was wearing a faded floral one-piece swimsuit. Her shoulder straps were rolled up and pinned, but the buttocks still sagged clear down to her knees. obviously a hand-me-down from one of the larger children. The rest of the group called her Nat'ly.

Wild Cherry was trying to keep Nat'ly out of the lake by threatening her. "If you don't behave, you aint gonna get no hot hod!" Every few minutes, Nat'ly would edge closer to the lake .Wild Cherry would chase her down, drag her back, and say "I done told you to stay here when I kin watch you! If you don't behave, you aint gonna get no hot dog!" After a few more hot dog threats, the other kids decided to go in on the act. When Nat'ly did step int the lake, we heard "Mama! Look what Nat'ly done done!" Wild Cherry barreled into the lake, grabbed Nat'ly by the back of the swimsuit, and said "Well Nat'ly, you done it now! You aint gonna get no hot dog for shore! You just like your daddy! Good for nuffin!" Then, she shoved her under the water. We stood up, ready to save Nat'ly, but Wild cherry brought her back up. Nat'ly blinked, and Wild Cherry glared. Suddenly, Nat'ly sprayed Wild Cherry. "Look" she said, "I'm a fountain!" Wild Cherry made a swipe fr her, but Nat'ly escaped into the trees and out of sight.

When people talk about the image that is America, many faces may come to mind: Mary Lou Retten beaming her smile for the whole world to see after throwing herself down the runway of the Vault, and nailing a perfect 10; the profile of our "American Shakespeare", Mark Twain, with his sardonic mustache and cigar; of the famous black and white photo of the expressionless Rosa Parks, looking out the window of the bus, seemingly ignoring not only the person demanding her seat, but the whole system itself. For me though, the image of America is a little of place girl in a swimsuit 8 sizes too large.

Something about Nat'ly represents America. Perhaps it's the fact that America has always rooted for the underdog. From the 1980 Olymic Miracle on Ice to the outmanned British Airman fighting the blitzkrieg in WWII, our American hearts cheer for those who stand for a cuase, be it as great as the liberation of a country, or as small as a seat on the bus. Think about it. When I told you about Nat'ly, whom id you find yourself rooting for? Whild Cherry with her greasy black hair? Or Nat'ly, with her "I won't be beaten" attitude?

Perhaps Nat'ly is aMerica because she finds reason to celebrate life even in harsh circumstances. Who else but Nat'ly would turn into a fountain immediately after a near death experience? Who else but the American Hollywood could find a way to celebrate life during the Great Depression by helping us to forget?

Maybe Nat'ly's family situation represents would many countries have thought about America throughout its development: a ragtag collection full of illegitimate children; a bunch of pretenders of various races and colors. A country who didnt know any better than to accept the rules without challenging established tradition. I for one, love that early Americans did challenge the rules.

But one solid reason why I love Nat'ly, why I love America, can be found in the last chapter of the Nat'ly story. "An hour and a half after Nat'ly had escaped wild Cherry, we packed up to go home. As we were backing out of our parking space, we happened to glance over to where Wild Cherry's family was splashing in the lake. Alone at the picnic table, was Nat'ly. She sat, swinging her legs, a beatific smile on her face, with mustard dripping on her chin and catsup stuck in her hair, eating the hot dog she was told she would never get. 

_______________________________

Well....that's my speech. Remember, I was 14 years old when I wrote and delivered this speech. That was ten years ago! But...it did land me third place and a $400.00 check, so....not too shabby. I had forgotten completely about this story until I just re-read the speech. Oh America. 


Saturday, March 31, 2012

My Graduation Speech

I was sifting through my email that I use for junk (and the email address that got me through junior high and high school) and I came upon a draft of my Validictorian Speech that I gave at my high school graduation. I wanted to post it so I don't lose it.


        I have attended Meridian School for fifteen years. My first memory of the school was the day I left my art drawing in my cubby basket upstairs in the pre-school room. My mom scolded me for being forgetful and making us late for dance class, so I rushed up the stairs as fast as I could. As I wheeled around the corner at the top of the stairs, I saw Mrs. Reeder and Miss Gwen, two of my pre-school teachers, standing in front of the oven. I was terrified they would scold me for forgetting my art, so I hid behind the plants so they wouldn’t see me. Mrs. Reeder was holding Miss Gwen’s red hair in her left hand while Miss Gwen, who was now bald, was sitting in the chair in front of her. I watched Mrs. Reeder set down the red hair on the counter, re-arrange some flowers on a white sun hat, and place the hat on Miss Gwen’s head. I decided to leave my artwork there, and quietly left, puzzled. I didn’t understand: Mrs. Reeder already had hair. Why was she taking Miss Gwen’s pretty red hair? When I finally graduated from pre-school, I thought back to that moment of Miss Gwen’s bald head as she placed my paper-bowl and cardstock graduation cap on my head: it was my pretend hair. Miss Gwen died of cancer a year later.
       I haven’t told that story to anyone before. In fact, I had forgotten it until I started writing this speech a few weeks ago. This story and more importantly perhaps the process by which I remembered this story underscores what I would like to focus on today: the importance of our stories.
Storytelling is a crucial aspect of being human. Human beings have a natural ability to use verbal communication to teach, explain, and remember important, or, not so important things in our lives According to Reynold Price, author of A Palpable God:
“A need to tell and hear stories is essential to the species Homo sapiens—second in necessity apparently after nourishment and before love and shelter. Millions survive without love or home, almost none in silence; the opposite of silence leads quickly to narrative, and the sound of story is the dominant sound of our lives, from the small accounts of our day’s events to the vast incommunicable constructs...”

       It is a bold statement to say that stories are more important than love, and high enough to be next to food on our hierarchy of needs. Love comforts, and shelter protects. Without food we would die. But without our stories, it’s almost as if we never had lived. For most of you, Miss Gwen is given life not because you knew her, because of what I have just told you; For me, this story is the only thing that gives her permanence.
There are different ways to experience stories. Perhaps the most obvious way is reading. At Meridian, we read a lot of stories. And from those stories, I am able to see my life juxtaposed and compared to other characters. I know that my father is not a mentally ill nylon salesman like Willy Loman; I know that I am not a creator of a hideous form of life like Dr. Frankenstein, and I know that Raskolnikov did not murder my friend. But to know these things is not why I picked up the book, nor was it because I wanted to find my “kindred spirit.” It is said that we read to understand who we are and who we are not. Great stories are there to comfort and to challenge our emotions and make us think “Oh. I didn’t know I believed that.”
       However, reading is not the only way to experience stories. The Performing Arts is a form of storytelling in itself. In modern dance, the choreographed moves create an emotion along with music to aid in the story that the dancer is portraying. Acting is similar. Theatre allows us to explore the story of another individual and experience them in a more visceral manner for both the actor and the audience. That is when we truly understand the love of Hermia, the passion of Timoune, or the sincerity of Cordelia.
       But most of these plays are performed redundantly. Beauty and the Beast has been performed countless times, and will continue to be. And after our umpteenth late night rehearsal I found myself asking why. It’s the same character, the plot doesn’t change, and there is nothing different in the play. What possible good can come from a bunch of high school students stuffing their chests with chest hair to tell a story that’s been told over and over again? The answer might be that in addition to the story itself, the process of recreating that story is paramount. This is what Leslie Marmon Silko claims in her book Ceremony. Her main character, Tayo, must be healed of his mental and cultural illness by a ceremony. That ceremony was learning to tell and preserve the important stories of his tribe.

“Everywhere he looked, he saw a world made of stories, the long ago, time immemorial stories, as old Grandma called them. It was a world alive, always changing and moving; and if you knew where to look, you could see it, sometimes almost imperceptible, like the motion of the stars across the sky.”

       The ceremony that Tayo experiences is something like we students have experienced with redoing our own stories.
       One of the things I love at Meridian is that not only are we expected to explore a story but we are also expected to create and remember our own stories. For example: My freshmen year was the first year Meridian had ever considered going to the High School Competition at the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City. Most of the students in our class knew nothing about it except for the fact that people who “like drama” went there to “socialize”. Our 13-person drama class put together a scene from the Comedy of Errors and decided to try our luck. Little did we know what kind of extravagant living we would be enjoying when we reached our motel in Parowan. “The Ace Motel” offered seven luxurious rooms for our enjoyment, all completed with different themes. For three nights we lived in rooms with carpet samples stitched together for the carpet, and showerheads only tall enough for Philip Erickson to kneel and barely clear the spout. But when Saturday night rolled around, our little Meridian School took First place in Ensemble performance, First place in Monologue, and First place Sweepstakes. Our drama class has grown to over 60 students, and suddenly, the Ace Motel means so much more to us.
       But not all our stories need to be earth-shattering experiences. Every morning at 7:27 Kellie Higgins and I drove through the Provo center street ad 9th east intersection just south of Meridian on our way to seminary. And every morning, walking to the corner was an older couple, holding hands. Over the last 9 months, Kellie and I have watched the wife get up in her jogging suit and walk her husband to the corner. When they reach the corner, they would give each other a long hug, a small kiss on the cheek, and then part their ways. The husband would cross the street, and the wife would head back to their apartment. After he had crossed the road, they would turn at the same time to wave at each other one last time. Though I don’t know this couple or why they are the way they are, it is a story that Kellie and I share and won’t be forget. I will also never forget this year at the Senior Roast when Elizabeth Clark willed all of her cool clothes and her much sought after platforms to her little sister. Or the time that Hootie sang in a concert, showing off his beautiful voice and little vibrato, possibly more because of nerves than because of training. Stories as sad as Miss Gwen, as happy as our success at Shakespeare, or as insignificant as the couple in the morning are what makes us who we are, and who we can become.
       We’ve finally made it to our graduation, the ceremony that is the capstone of our few years together. But in the end, this ceremony in and of itself is meaningless. What matters is the stories behind the ceremony; the stories that make this ceremony more meaningful to our personal lives; the stories that got us sitting in those chairs. I remember reading a graduation speech where the speaker said at this point he should urge you to achieve momentous things. He then said he would not do that because it is too easy, too empty. I would like to borrow that idea and suggest that the most important thing for Meridian and it’s community is to remember our stories. Garrison Keiller said “As long as young people love stories I think there is hope for the world. As long as we love stories and the past, there is hope for the future.”  For each one of our graduating class and our beloved school we hope for a great future. May we remember our future is tied to our past and to our stories. Thank you.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

listslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslistslists

I love lists.

I mean, I REALLY love lists. So I make them.

Alot.

So here is a list of things on my mind:


  1. I am a mediocre classical singer. Dear Director, I am so thankful you have so much faith in me!!  I fear I might be ruining your name because you keep recommending me and I keep bombing it.
  2. I should learn how to "bomb" gracefully
  3. I love my bed. I really love it, and wish I spent more time in it.
  4. Sometimes, I lay in my bed at night and talk myself out of washing my face because I just don't want to.
  5. Laziness is my downfall.
  6. I'm graduating college in a few weeks. I don't know what to feel.
  7. My first car that I ever bought has given up the ghost today. RIP Francisco. 
  8. I will be getting a new car VERY soon....stay tuned!! :)
  9. TMI, but I LOVE LOVE LOVE taking off my bra at the end of the day. 
  10. My dad picked me up this morning and when he saw my room, he sat down and said "Wow, Kel, this is really nice". 
  11. I have been to the gym once this week. Tomorrow is Thursday. Come on Kelly....
  12. My teeth are achey right now because I bleached them today.
  13. I think my acting teacher is disappointed in me.
  14. I still love my bed.
  15. Head massages and foot massages are AWESOME. I love me a good scalp massage.
  16. My favorite line from a book: " I feel a sin coming on...."
  17. My roommate Val moved out. I miss her.
  18. I can't wait to go to the new mall up in SLC. Neat!
  19. I want to wear sweatpants to school tomorrow.
  20. I probably will.
  21. I love Andrew James Keele. Slowly but surely. 
  22. I'm excited for summer time, and a car with air conditioning.
  23. I am so blessed in so many ways.
  24. GENERAL CONFERENCE IS THIS WEEKEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. I need to get lots of sleep so I can be alert during the sessions.
  25. My teeth are still hurting.
  26. I want to be a nicer person. Uh huh. I'm working on it.
  27. I'm 24. WTF?!
  28. ...........
  29. zzzzzZZZZZzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzzz
  30. ...........
  31. I'm going to bed. 

You are Enough

I read this blog post, and wanted to re post it. The actual link is HERE.


Ten Things I Want To Tell Teenage Girls
1.  If you choose to wear shirts that show off your boobs, you will attract boys. To be more specific, you will attract the kind of boys that like to look down girls’ shirts.  If you want to date a guy who likes to look at other girls’ boobs and chase skirts, then great job; keep it up.  If you don’t want to date a guy who ogles at the breasts of other women, then maybe you should stop offering your own breasts up for the ogling.  All attention is not equal.  You think you want attention but you don’t.  You want respect.  All attention is not equal.
2. Don’t go to the tanning bed.  You’ll thank me when you go to your high school reunion and you look like you’ve been airbrushed and then photoshopped compared to the tanning bed train wrecks formerly known as classmates – well, at least next to the ones that haven’t died from skin cancer.
3.  When you talk about your friends “anonymously” on Facebook, we  know exactly who you’re talking about.  People are smarter than you think they are.  Stop posting passive-aggressive statuses about the myriad of ways your friends disappoint you.
4. Newsflash: the number of times you say “I hate drama” is a pretty good indicator of how much you love drama.  Non-dramatic people don’t feel the need to discuss all the drama they didn’t start and aren’t involved in.
5.  “Follow your heart” is probably the worst advice ever. 
6. Never let a man make you feel weak or inferior because you are an emotional being.  Emotion is good; it is nothing to be ashamed of.  Emotion makes us better – so long as it remains in it’s proper place: subject to truth and reason.
7.  Smoking is not cool.
8.  Stop saying things like, “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.”  First of all, that’s not true.  And second of all, if it is true, you need a perspective shift.  Your reputation matters – greatly.  You should care what people think of you.
9. Don’t play coy or stupid or helpless to get attention.  Don’t pretend something is too heavy so that a boy will carry it for you.  Don’t play dumb to stroke someone’s ego.  Don’t bat your eyelashes in exchange for attention and expect to be taken seriously, ever.  You can’t have it both ways.  Either you show the world that you have a brain and passions and skills, or you don’t.  There are no damsels in distress managing corporations, running countries, or managing households.  The minute you start batting eyelashes, eyelashes is all you’ve got.
10.  You are beautiful.  You are enough.  The world we live in is twisted and broken and for your entire life you will be subjected to all kinds of lies that tell you that you are not enough.  You are not thin enough.  You are not tan enough.  You are not smooth, soft, shiny, firm, tight, fit, silky, blonde, hairless enough.  Your teeth are not white enough.  Your legs are not long enough.  Your clothes are not stylish enough.  You are not educated enough.  You don’t have enough experience.  You are not creative enough.
There is a beauty industry, a fashion industry, a television industry, (and most unfortunately) a pornography industry: and all of these have unique ways of communicating to bright young women: you are not beautiful, sexy, smart or valuable enough.
You must have the clarity and common sense to know that none of that is true. None of it.
You were created for a purpose, exactly so.  You have innate value.  You are loved more than you could ever comprehend; it is mind-boggling how much you are adored.  There has never been, and there will never be another you.  Therefore, you have unique thoughts to offer the world.  They are only yours, and we all lose out if you are too fearful to share them.
You are beautiful.  You are valuable.  You are enough.

Monday, March 26, 2012

I didn't know I was offering poison apples

I've learned something over the weekend, and feel pretty sad about it.

I don't think I'm a very nice person.

I mean, I always thought I was really nice, and caring, and thoughtful of other people, and that I lift other people up. Or, in a picture, I see myself like this:


But...I think other people see me like this:


*sigh*.

I will try harder.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Neat Article

My dear friend Laura Graham emailed me this article, and I thought I would share it. I wish I had time to write all my thoughts about it, but I don't. So here it is, and feel free to formulate your own



Your Core Gifts:The Powerful, Unexpected Path To Love
Published on September 24, 2011 by Ken Page, L.C.S.W. in Finding Love


In my decades of practice as a psychotherapist, this is the insight that has inspired me most:
Our deepest wounds surround our greatest gifts.
I've found that the very qualities we're most ashamed of, the ones we keep trying to reshape or hide, are in fact the key to finding real love. I call them core gifts.
It's so easy to get lost in the quest for self-improvement. Every billboard seduces us with the vision of a happier, more successful life. I'm suggesting an opposite road to happiness. If we can name our own awkward, ardent gifts, and extricate them from the shame and wounds that keep them buried, we'll find ourselves on a bullet train to deep, surprising, life-changing intimacy.
Over the years, I realized that the characteristics of my clients which I found most inspiring, most essentiallythem, were the ones which frequently caused them the most suffering.

Some clients would complain of feeling like they were "too much"; too intense, too angry, or too demanding. From my therapist's chair, I would see a passion so powerful that it frightened people away.
Other clients said they felt that they felt like they were "not enough"; too weak, too quiet, too ineffective. I would find a quality of humility and grace in them which would not let them assert themselves as others did.
Clients would describe lives devastated by codependency, and I would see an immense generosity with no healthy limits.
Again and again, where my clients saw their greatest wounds, I also saw their most defining gifts!
Cervantes said that reading a translation is like viewing a tapestry from the back. That's what it's like when we try to understand our deepest struggles without honoring the gifts that fuel them.
When we understand our lives through the lens of our gifts it's as if we step out from behind the tapestry and really see it for the first time. All of a sudden, things make sense. We see the real picture, the moving, human story of what matters most to us. We begin to understand that our biggest mistakes, our most self-sabotaging behaviors were simply convulsive, unskilled attempts to express the deepest parts of ourselves.
Susan came to therapy after her boyfriend of two years left her. She had put the whole of her heart and all her energies into her relationship, and when it ended, she felt utterly destroyed. "Why can't I let go and move on like he did, or as my friends tell me I should?" she asked me on her first visit.
As she described her relationship history, I saw a consistent quality of kindness in her; a soft-heartedness which people kept taking advantage of. Susan appreciated these qualities in herself, but she also felt like they were a curse. (That very ambivalence is one of the main indicators of a core gift.) I sensed that a key to her healing lay precisely there. Again and again, we worked at helping her reframe her sensitivity not as a weakness, but as a gift that she-as well as her former partners-didn't know how to honor.
It sounds simple, but seeing these qualities as a gift was the foundation of new dating life for her. By seeing their worth, she could learn to understand, honor, and even treasure them.
When Susan looked at her life through the lens of her gift, she felt triumphant. "I was right all along!" she said. "Those things that bothered me about my boyfriends bothered me for a reason. I wasn't crazy. I just didn't honor my gift and I found men who were all too happy to agree with me."
I've named the approach I used with Susan "Gift Theory." The easiest way to explain Gift Theory is by starting with the image of a target. Every ring inward toward the center moves us closer to our most authentic self. In the center of the target, where the bull's-eye is, lie our core gifts.
Core gifts are not the same as talents or skills. In fact, until we understand them, they often feel like shameful weaknesses, or as parts of ourselves too vulnerable to expose. Yet they are where our soul lives. They are like the bone marrow of our psyche, generating a living stream of impulses toward intimacy and authentic self-expression. But gifts aren't hall-passes to happiness. They get us into trouble again and again. We become most defensive-or most naïve-around them. They challenge us and the people we care about. They ask more of us than we want to give. And we can be devastated when we feel them betrayed or rejected.
Since the heat of our core is so hard to handle, we protect ourselves by moving further out from the center. Each ring outward represents a more airbrushed version of ourselves. Each makes us feel safer, puts us at less risk of embarrassment, failure, and rejection. Yet, each ring outward also moves us one step further from our soul, our authenticity, and our sense of meaning. As we get further away from our core gifts, we feel more and more isolated. When we get too far, we experience a terrible sense of emptiness.
So, most of us set up shop at a point where we are close enough to be warmed by our gifts, but far enough away that we do not get burned by their fire. We create safer versions of ourselves to enable us to get through our lives without having to face the existential risk of our core.
The Gift Theory model invites us to discover what our core gifts are (most of us don't really know), to extricate these gifts from the wounds that keep them buried, and to express them with bravery, generosity, anddiscrimination in our dating life. When we do this, we find healthy love moving closer.
If you're looking for love, try to discover your own gifts. They shine in your joys and strengths, but they also live-and hide-right in the heart of your greatest insecurities and heartbreaks. If you learn to lead with them in your dating life, you will find-almost without trying-- that you're experiencing mutual attractions with people who love and treasure the very gifts you're discovering. 
In future blogs, we'll explore in much greater detail how to discover your own core gifts. In the meantime, I invite you to take two or three minutes to reflect on the following question:
Are there essential qualities in you which have sometimes felt more like a curse than a gift? Perhaps you haven't known how to handle them, or maybe you've had the painful experience of other people misunderstanding or taking advantage of them. Take a minute to begin to put words on these qualities. As you name them, you'll learn to honor them, and you'll come to understand your struggles, your intimacy journey and your life story in a new way.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Secret to Success: I don't know.

Well, I must say that I really love school.

I do. I am graduating college in about a month, and my semester couldn't be better. I am taking ten credits, and as far as I know, I am doing well and right on track to graduate. My whole college career I have been worried that my last semester would be very difficult and stressful as I try to wrap up the 6 years I have spent here at BYU. But...its not. Don't get me wrong, its very difficult, but I enjoy the level of difficulty, and find myself excited to succeed and work hard. I have a *swear word* alot of memorization this semester, and assignments like these (see below), that need to be memorized within a few days...(and this only shows 2 of the 3 pages)
...but I find it a thrill and a challenge to be successful. Sure. Sometimes I fail. But...failure is alright in my classes.

Its really difficult to feel confident in my major, ALL THE TIME. Because I'm not. I doubt my major all the time: "an actor? who am I kidding", or "how could I possibly succeed in that? What do I have to offer?" or "How will I get to where I want to be?". And I've come to the conclusion, which is: you just do it. If you want it, go get it. Work hard. Be kind. Do what it takes to get what you want. Easier said than done, but...why not? Why shouldn't you, or I, get what I want?

Anyway,

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Sleep for the soul

Today has been a beautiful day so far. It really pays to take care of your body and make sure that you get the sleep that you need each night.

Last night (and all day yesterday, for that matter). I was exhausted. I don't mean tired, I mean EXHAUSTED--to the point of disfunction. I dragged myself around all morning at BYU doing makeup for Little Eyolf, and then I dragged myself around all afternoon at work. No makeup, messy hair, glasses, sweats. That's the best that I could manage yesterday. I can't really tell you why I was so tired, because my life has lightened up considerably. But by the end of the day, my feet were achey, my body hurt, andI couldn't even handle wearing a bra (sorry Hootie, if you read this). I knew that if I stayed in bed after work, I would fall asleep, and then never sleep the rest of the night. SO! I toughened up, went out with my roommate, and made sure I was home by 11.

Why am I writing all of this? I don't know. But I DO know that my body asked for more sleep, and so last night, I made sure I gave it enough sleep.

I woke up this morning feeling great. Church is at 9:30, which has been really hard for me while I was doing "The 39 Steps"--I would fall asleep in Sacrament, I would leave before Relief Society because I couldn't stay awake, and being at church was like pulling my teeth. But today was wonderful--I was awake, refreshed, attentive, and I felt so peaceful and happy being there. I learned so much, and not once did it cross my mind to leave early. Its a beautiful day, its 2pm, and I am sitting in bed with the blinds open, contemplating the things of my life and smiling.

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you all that.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

feelings

It is 10:30 on a Saturday Morning, and I have a lot of feelings right now. Things I am thinking about:


  • I wish I was in my bed
  • When I woke up this morning, by bed looked so perfect, like I had had a perfect night's sleep.
  • I WISH I had had a perfect night's sleep
  • I really don't like when people flake out
  • I wish I could sleep all day
  • I feel bad for bailing on my roommates this weekend, but feel good for what I'm doing instead.
  • I love the dog that I get to put makeup on each day.
  • My boyfriends birthday is next week, and I won't be able to spend the evening with him because of school.
  • I'm not a very good girlfriend.
  • I just want to eat Zupas, and watch Desperate Housewives
  • I love Planet Fitness
  • I'm really grateful for Xandra, and taking me to lunch for my birthday. 
  • Thai food is sooooo good.
  • I am really struggling to analyze the Chekhov play I am researching right now.
  • My Major is a real major
  • I love the Temple
  • I graduate in about 50 days. THEN WHAT!
  • I have spirit gum on my hands.
  • I did not shower today.
  • Tomorrow, I am going to take a beautiful nap. That's right, beautiful.
  • I am slowly finding myself again.
  • I guess I don't have as many feelings as I thought I did.
I want to blog, but feel all blogged out. I just can't think of anything to write about. I'm just....tired. I'm tired, tired tired. I think my washing machine is broken, so you better believe that I am going to take my laundry to work and do it there. Don't doubt it. It's going to happen. 

Thursday, February 23, 2012

The Success Of Other People Does Not Equal Your Failure

So I read this blog today, and I can't help but re-post. I am definitely guilty of this, and I with that it wasn't true, but it is. Give it a read. I think you'll relate. And if you would like to read more of her stuff, you can go HERE.


The success of other people does not equal your failure

hand resting on chin The success of other people does not equal your failureI want to say something – something important.
The success of other people does not equal your failure.
Think about the last time that someone you knew – a friend, family member, or acquaintance – did something amazing. Perhaps she published a novel or he was interviewed on CNN or she struck gold with an awesome business idea. Or maybe he wrote a blog post that garnered hundreds of comments…in one hour. Or she was invited to a Microsoft or Disney or Nikon event.
Did you immediately celebrate for your friend – in your heart and in your actions? Or was there a sinking feeling inside of you, a little voice that said, “Not you. Not you. It could have been you, but it’s not you.
I think it’s human nature to feel secretly distressed by other people’s success, because – by george, you could have won that prize or been featured in the Times or come up with that business plan or baked that cake that awed everyone at the party. It could have been you! {But it wasn’t}.
So, you feel a little bit smaller, a little bit defeated and deflated.
But I want to tell you to stomp on that voice, to hit the mute button. Because there is room. Plenty of room.
There is room for your creativity, your ideas, your writing, and your success. I know it feels like the party is crowded, that you’re being pushed to the back of the room (“standing room only”) or out of the door, with a martini and a hors d’oeurve in your hand, shuffling your feet nervously. But that isn’t true.
So please don’t hesitate to celebrate your friend. GO now. Buy her book. Tell everyone you know to watch him on TV. Share an idea to help her business become even more successful. Comment on his blog post. Buy her a souvenir for that super-awesome, invitation-only event. Yes.
Don’t let that record play. The one that beats down at your soul and points fingers at your ambition and sings in a jeering tune, “Not YOU! You could have done it. But it’s not you!
high five The success of other people does not equal your failureInstead, turn on the symphony – the beautiful, inspiring one that says, “There’s room. There’s room enough for everyone.”
And when your friends make it, when they’re up there among the stars – celebrate them…clap…scream your lungs out…cheer…give them more ideas  - so that they can shine even brighter.
And I’ll let you in on a little secret. As you give more, you’ll start shining brighter too

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Backstage of "The 39 Steps"

From the month's of November-February, I was fortunate enough to be involved in the play "The 39 Steps" at the Hale Center Theater in Orem. This is by far one of the funnest plays I've done, and am so sad its over. The whole cast and crew were so wonderful to work with, and now that its been over for a week, I miss them and wonder when we will have a little reunion. If you were lucky enough to see this play, then I think you will enjoy this video a little bit more. This video is full of clippings from a video camera that we took around backstage during the show to video the quick changes and the madness that happens in order to create the show onstage. ENJOY!

Monday, February 20, 2012

****DING DING DING! BUCKET LIST SUCCESS****


Well everybody, I did it--another item off the list. I actually have a few items I've already accomplished on my Bucket List, but I just haven't gotten around to documenting them. Here it is:

item number 61: own my own sewing machine

Wahoo! I got a sewing machine for Christmas, and I couldn't have been more excited. I didn't ask for it, and so it was a complete surprise. My dad got it for me, and I couldn't be happier. I know my face doesn't look surprised, but....I was. This face is: surprised, excited, shocked, and tired.


Ta da! And here it is!!

I've already made a few things with it, some of which I'll post later. But I've altered dresses, hemmed pants and skirts, made a throw pillow case....I just love it, and I feel so happy when I learn to make new things. Next up--bucket list #1, make a quilt! (someday!)