Welcome home. You have a dentist appointment in the morning.

From: falboart

My first night back in Vegas I dreamed of my high school choir. Woke up and pulled on clothes that were closest to the top of my suitcase and then went to the dentist. Life is about normal again. Now what I need is an internship or a temp job for the next two months or I might go crazy.

It's amazing how normal life can get where ever you live. Even in London, if I didn't go out and try to grab hold of every opportunity I could find, it became monotonous. So I shouldn't just blog and watch TV all day. That won't make me happy. I need to clean my room, and play the piano, and cook, and get ready for my mission in less than two months! That's what life is about. That and all the beautiful moments with friends and family. So I'm off to do that. Hope you're all having a great day.

Silent Saturday

From: here

P.S. Post 200!

And then...

I check my e-mail and get a message from my Honors professor that makes my day. It is one of the most legitimatly flattering pieces of praise I've ever received. So thanks Professor, I needed that.

Masochism, not to be confused with mastication

I always do this to myself. I am incapable of studying for a test or writing a paper that is not smack dab in the face close. I must like the anxiety of thinking that I might not finish everything I want to or study as much as I should.

Whatever the reason, I'm really regretting it today... alot.

Silent Saturday

Via: here

How am I supposed to say goodbye to this?

They are filling up the pool in my apartment complex today. It feels like summer. Last summer I was here having barbecues and playing Frisbee. This summer I will be here wearing skirts and learning Polish. It's going to be one of  the greatest adventures of my life. I am so excited and happy about this opportunity, but today my heart is full of goodbyes.

When I graduated from high school I was ready; I was excited. I knew I would miss everyone, but there was too much ahead of me to concentrate on sadness. I do that- barrel on into my next escapade tense with nerves, but too distracted by the newness to notice them. It's different this time. I'm not quite ready to let go.

Michele started packing up the room this morning. She was laying her books and clothes out on my bed around where I was studying. I love our happy chaotic coexistence. I love our calendar dances and our gibberish late night conversations and our meaningful conversations and our dreaming and scheming. I love that we didn't take a taxi in London and somehow I still got all of my books across the Atlantic and that I went to her work party on Wednesday as her significant other. What on earth am I going to do with my empty room at home. How am I supposed to say goodbye to this?

I have a confession to make. When I was waiting for my mission call I had this secret desire that my roommates and I would be sent to the same mission. That China would open up for missionary work and we would single-handedly (or seven-handedly) convert the entire country. Because together, we can do anything. In the last couple of weeks I've realized that this isn't the plan. It's been an obvious, yet hard realization. We have been given two blissful years of Zion, now we have a responsibility to figure out how to reconstruct it again and again wherever we go, with whoever we meet.

But I haven't grown up yet because I haven't figured out how this goodbye thing works. I don't want to leave these beautiful wonderful women who have taught me so much about who I am and what I can become. I don't want to miss their graduations and their weddings. I want to be a part of their lives like they are a part of mine. I hope it is okay to want this. My decision to leave still stands, and missing these events is going to be a reality, but that doesn't prevent me from wishing and wanting. It doesn't stop the day dreams of a big country estate in England with all our families living in the village nearby and when we get married giving everyone their own wing to propagate and decorate how they choose. I guess that even though this won't actually happen, it can be some metaphorical reality (my heart is a giant English country estate in case  you were curious).


So what I'm trying to get accross is that I love these girls and I'm going to miss them all a lot. That's all. I'm working on the brevity skill.

No roommates were harmed in the taking of this picture even

 though it looks like Jessie and Megan are mortally injured. 

My Europe

By: dani.Co

It happened when I was watching Sabrina. You know the part when she is wandering through Paris and meets the lovely and profoundly wise French woman at a street market. That's when it hit me: I'm going to Europe for the next year and a half. I love Europe!

Poland is not Paris just as much as Paris is not London or Salzburg. But that's the point of Europe. Everywhere you go is so different and proud of their unique heritage. Europe is rich history and unbelieable art and noisy street markets and old and new architecture squished into the same city block. I get to be a part of that again, even moreso than I was before, and that makes me happy.

Dia de leyendo y sol

Via: ksenita on flicker

Cold damp grass scratches the back of my neck,
pokes under the hem of the jeans I have pulled up to my knees,
jams into the spaces between my toes.
I bury myself there
Grabbing two hand-fulls within fingers
I pull myself as deep as I can.

The chill is only bearable because of the sun pelting my face with it's rays of UV light.
My skin hurts with the warmth, but I cannot turn it away.
I smile, allowing my burning cheeks to fold and pucker,
wishing my chapped lips could drink up the sun the way my skin does.
I close my eyes and see the red brightness of sky behind the lids.

The book, lying heavy on my chest, reminds me of another world.
A world where there is more to do than smile at the sun
and thank it for happiness and life.
But I don't want to leave;
Daydreams and Afternoon Naps have just arrived for tea
I am content here.

I fear this warmth could melt away as quickly as Las Vegas snow
and so I hide here in the grass. In a world of vivid oranges and shades of spring.

Mrs. Booth, Ford, Damon, Keats, Blythe...

A friend's post of some of their favorite women, made me want to expand my Saturday post a bit.


Why do I want to marry Agent Booth, and why does Michele approve? Because he believes that what he does makes the world a better place. Because he cares about people, all people (except maybe criminals). Because he's not intimidated by intelligent women. And let's face it, you would always feel safe around him, even if some psycho cereal killer were in the house.






Athos is a character in The Fugitive Pieces. He sees a Jewish child hiding in the forest and risks his life to smuggle him out of Poland during WWII.  Humanity is sacred to him. His compassion is staggering. He raises the boy, taking him to Greece and then Canada and teaches him how to live after what he has seen. He teaches him the beauty of academia, of science, and of poetry. That's the life I want to live, cherishing it all the time no matter what has happened.











How is Aragorn not the perfect man? He is the hope of the entire world and yet he doesn't run up to the throne and demand his kingdom. It's always more about others than himself. For instance, he knows Arwen should leave and tells her to do so even though he loves her. He is pragmatic and loyal and self sacrificing. He doesn't let his fears of failure dim his determination to succeed. Oh, and he can wield a battle sword.

I know I'm supposed to think Captain Kirk is the most attractive man on the Enterprise, but when Michele and I cuddle up on the couch to watch Star Trek we giggle like school girls over Spock. Because Spock is a good guy. He is smart and talented, and he's willing to be Kirk's deputy when it becomes apparent that Kirk will be able to save the greatest amount of people.











Harrison Ford is a man's man. Can I just list a few movies he's been in: Indiana Jones, Sabrina, The Fugitive, Air Force One, and oh yeah... he was Han Solo. Somehow he walks the line between snarky and disrespectful. Snark is okay, it implies equality of intellect; disrespect is not okay. Somehow I always feel his cheekiness is a cover for complex characters. I like complex characters, knowing them makes life more interesting.

Two words: Car pool. I heard once that Matt Damon car pools his children to school. The children he had with his wife who is not a movie star or pop singer and who he has been with for more than five years.

He is also Jason Borne.

If you haven't seen Bright Star, repent. It is the story of John Keats. I don't even like Romantic poetry that much and I could listen to this actor read Keats' work all day long (but only if I'm allowed to drool openly). He makes me want to live more passionately, to see more beauty, to write more clearly.

Maybe it's because there is a beauty in home for me, but Gilbert Blythe is the epitome of what I want my life to include. What does Anne say at the end of the second movie, "I don't want marble halls and something else, I just want you". That's how I want to feel when I get married







And lastly, I want my husband to treat me the way my stake president treats his wife. I don't think you can be in my stake and not love President Todd, nor can you ignore how unbelievably in love he still is with Sister Todd. One time at a Relief Society activity she was speaking and her poster fell from the board. He was right by her side helping her pick it up before anyone else had realized what happened. This isn't because he thinks she wouldn't be able to pick it up on her own, but because he wants to serve he at every oppotunity he gets.

Can I Marry Agent Booth?

Via: britishwannabe1

Silent Saturday

Via: praesentire

Papers, papers, and more papers are what I should be writing

"I'll be dreaming my dreams"

 From: vi.sualize

I know people who have many dreams in one night. Those people are not me. I can go months without remembering anything from my night's escapades. I probably dream occasionally, but I have a feeling that I drop  into the deep and dreamless stage of the rem cycle pretty quickly. But a few weeks ago I was unpleasantly awakened in the middle of the night after a very strange, very vivid dream. Thinking I had filled my six month quota I went back to sleep, but apparently my life is too boring and my subconcious wants to play at night. Needless to say, the last couple of weeks have been quite eventful. Here are two of my favorite adventures:

I, for reasons unbenounced to me, was naked at a choir dress rehearsal. Embarrassing, but bearable in a choir full of women. It wasn't quite so bearable when Men's Chorus began filing in. I just remember trying to inconspicuously slip back into my clothes when some random guy asked me a question and I promptly turned into Sandra Bullok. Apparently I felt more comfortable in her skin.

A few nights ago I bought a really cheep housing contract. It was a single bed with plenty of space. Too much space. I had purchased a matress in the bushes by the Hinkley Center mere feet away from the sidewalk and busy road. KaryAnn came to visit me and attempted to talk me into moving back to Regency, but I insisted that I really liked my new place. I didn't relent until it started raining and the mattress got soggy.

Last night Katelyn made friends with a giant yellow and black snake. They seemed to be really great friends, but I was wary. When she left the room and I was left alone with the snake we began talking. He divulged that he intended to kill me, knowing that he could bite and kill me before I could run away. So I didn't run, I was sitting right next to him with his head in my lap. I replied, "I know you like Katelyn and she wouldn't like you to kill me" to which he responded while stroking my hand with his fang, "I don't care". As soon as the words were out of his mouth survival instincts kicked in and I snapped his neck. (This one creeped me out a lot actually).

Don't worry about my sanity, I feel fine. But if you have any interpretations to offer, I'm all ears.

Truth

.

Via: Casaubon

Truths I've been Told:
You're such a happy person.
Poland. That's perfect for you!
You're going to be an amazing mission companion.
You're such a good writer.
You're beautiful.

A Truth of Politeness:
I normally smile and say thank you when people tell me these things, because it's actually more gracious to say thank you than flat out deny what people tell you. But sometimes I really have to work hard to believe them.

Truth is:
I don't feel happy all the time. There are days that I feel sad.
How on earth can so many people think Poland is perfect for me when I was so surprised? 
I don't even know how to be a good missionary let alone a mission companion. I wish I were so much more compassionate and patient and loving with those around me.
I write a lot, but it's a lot of blood for mediocre work. Good writers make readers feel something. If something is well written their meaning is clear and yet beautiful and complex at the same time. When I read something well written I cry because it's so beautiful. Some day I'll write something like that.
Sure sometimes. I was blessed with pretty cheek bones and a defined clavicle. But I haven't gone for a run in months and I rarely wear mascara. More often than not my hair does whatever it likes and I wear the nearest pair of jeans.

Some Truisms:
Men are that they might have joy.
Life is better when you're happy.
Jesus Christ can make you happy (and will if you ask him to)
Mission calls are inspired by the Lord.
I will go and do the things the Lord commands.
Poland is the greatest place in the world!
If you practice being more Christlike, eventually you will be.
Christ is the best mission companion.
Every voice matters.
Do what you love regaurdless of skill.
I am a daughter of God.
He made all things well (and he made me without mascara, fancy that).

No Touchy

Via: schultzeworks

I have a computer I always like to use in the library. When I walk in and some unsuspecting student is sitting at it, I give them and evil glare before sitting down at another computer on the next row. I don't know that I am necessarily more productive at this computer. It's just my favorite place to write. I am most comfortable there. Many a late night and early morning have been spent typing furiously at it to finish a paper. It works for me. I can think when I'm there. Do any of you having thinking places?

Little Black Dress: Success

I think it's called a cruel irony, life is funny that way. Five long years of searching for the right little black dress and I've finally found it. I walked into Banana Republic last night looking for a non-masculine blazer, and found this:

Via: BananaRepublic

Notice the length, notice the sleeves. I tried it on out of indulgence, just to see. And when it wasn't too tight, too long, too low, too cheap and was 25% off I just smiled to myself, put it back on the hanger and then the rack. Why, you ask? Because I really don't need a little black dress right now. I can't wear it for a few years (I might be a different size in a few years) and oh yeah, my money has to pay for other needed clothes right now. But it exists! If Banana made a little black dress I would wear this season someone eventually has to make it again. And hopefully, then I'll be able to buy it.

Apparently they took gullible out of the dictionary

I might have looked up gullible in the dictionary after someone told me that. Hopefully you weren't so trusting.

Hiatus

I had a prolific month in March. 24 lovely posts, breaking my England record of 19. So I've decided to stop while I'm ahead. I can't blog on my mission, so I'm calling it quits until April 1, 2012. See you all in 2 years.

Hope you all have enjoyed, I know I have.