What was later referred to as "The Great Social Media Purge"

So I've been around for 22 years, right? Right. Sometimes it feels like a long time, and other times it feels like just yesterday that mom caught me sitting in the cupboard 
eating m&ms.
Wait. That was last week... Huh. Anyway.
I remember when pogs and nanopets were all the rage. I remember when I would beg to get on my dads laptop that had the click-in mouse just so I could "play paint" or solitaire. I remember when an exciting day consisted of stringing up my barbies between the branches of our walnut tree and having my brother's G.I. Joe's save them. I remember spending an afternoon burning our initials into the wooden frame of our sandbox in the backyard. I remember dividing our bedroom, I remember drawing on everything I could get my hands on, I remember cardboard box surfing down our stairs. I remember the huge dip in my best friend's driveway, and fishing for worms in"Lake Echols" after a big rain storm. I remember swimming in the most redneck swimming pool possible on a hot summer day, an old silo lined with all the heavy plastic our small town had. I remember riding our bikes to "The Hollow" and getting attacked by mosquitoes, and vowing to never go again, but going the next week because of the rope swing. I remember pretending to be a rock star on our electric piano because it had like 100 different sounds. I remember laying upside down on the couch in front of our giant front window and watching the snow fall. I remember we asking mom for grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for breakfast, because I could. I remember painting gramps and grans "Little House," and putting our handprints on the back door. I remember mom and gran kicking is out of the kitchen because they wanted to eat all the chocolate cookies. I remember crying that hershey's chocolate was unchanged since 1960 whatever, and "why can't we be like that?" when I found out we were moving. I remember lending my "My Little Pony" to my cousin, and the utter devestation I felt when I knew I'd never see them again. I remember the sound of bells everyday from the nearby campus. I remember feeding the neighbor dog "Shaka berries," because his name was Shaka and he loved those berries. I remember going to the cougar eat with gran and feeling so grown up around all those college students. I remember the year it snowed up to my waist and I wondered if we were going to get snowed in. I remember having sailboat races in the irrigation ditches. I remember getting to ride my horse for my 7th birthday at my.house instead of driving to see him and feeling like a princess. I remember making a worm farm, forgetting about it, and coming back to some very dry, very dead worms. Oops. I remember singing to myself in the mirror. I remember tetherball tournaments in my backyard. I remember writing books and poems and songs. I remember reading from the time the sun came up until my eyes burned I remember my childhood being ridiculously awesome.
Then I grew up.
Not to say my adult life hasn't been awesome, because it has. But all those things I used to do as a little kid... When did I stop doing that? And why? I can understand maybe not trying the worm farm again, but pretty much everything else, where's the rules that say you have to grow up and get boring?
So that's my mission this month. Be awesome again.
I wonder just how much of my life has been wasted on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram. Now, I don't necessarily think any of these is a complete waste of time, but I wonder how many better things I could be doing if I rid my life of these potential time wasters (and let's be honest, I really did waste a lot of time on them).
Whatever happened to drawing on everything I could get my hands on? Or singing to myself in the mirror? Well, I still so that... Or whatever happened to being a rockstar on the electric keyboard? Or going to the hollow for fun? Or laying upside down to watch snow fall?
I don't want to miss things in my life that I could be good at. I can draw, I can paint, I can sing, I can play the piano, I can write, I'm a great reader, I can do so many things that I don't do enough of! So I'm purging myself of social media as an experiment... just how much can I accomplish in my free time when I'm not filling it with Facebook and other social media?
Guess we'll see, loves. ;)
Here's to life. Because it's amazing. <3

Thanks to our founding fathers.

This post won't be very humorous. I'm taking this time to share my thoughts on something I think all American and people who love America should take the time to consider and reflect upon. Thanksgiving is an American holiday, true, but its not really devoted to gorging ourselves in preparation for our new years resolutions a month later. Thanksgiving really is a time to think back on our nations history and be thankful not only for what we have, as citizens of such an amazing nation, but also to be thankful to those incredible men who founded our country and be respectful of how it was done. Even if you are not religious, I hope you will take the time to read this post and really give respect to the amazing men who put their faith in God as they built the nation that you both enjoy and complain about everyday. They deserve that much.

Sitting on each plate at thanksgiving dinner was a rolled up piece of paper. Grandma asked each of us to open it and read along as my aunt read it aloud. On the paper was  written this letter by George Washington, October 3, 1789:

"Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me to recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affirming them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.

Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to service of that great and glorious Being who is the Beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the courses and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now instituted; for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations, and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our national government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shown kindness to us), and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and generally, to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as He alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand, at the city of New York, the 3rd day of October, AD 1789
George Washington."

Remember what was done to make this wonderful nation what it is. Remember what those men had to go through to make it so. Remember what this country was founded on. Remember to be thankful. You'll feel better, I promise.

No sleep tonight, I have a story to tell.

So tonight I lay here, sleepless. The last time this happened, I pulled an accidental all-nighter, and I am not about to let that happen again, because I can't tell you how miserable of a day that was for all parties involved. So instead of repeating one of history's worst days, I decided to do what I feel I must do, and that is share my story.
One of my stories, that is. See, last time I lay sleepless, I had a feeling that I just needed to share something, but I decided it could wait till morning. But that feeling kept me up till I responded to it at 4 in the morning, and by then I figured I may as well get up and get ready for the day since I was wide awake, and ravenous...
Like I said: not ready to repeat that.
So, since I must be up in approximately 6.5 hours, I'm here typing away on the keyboard of my smart little phone to share my innermost feelings with you. And I hope that I say what I should.
For the past several months, I've had some specific things on my mind. One of which has been the topic of religion. I was brought up a member of the LDS church. But just like everyone must at some point, I had to find my own testimony and know for myself that it was true. I never had much trouble believing as kid, nor in my teenage years, but when I turned 19 my life changed drastically in an instant. I found myself neck deep in a world that I thought only existed in other people's lives - something you only see on t.v. or hear about happening to other people. It could never happen to me, could it?
And yet there I was, quickly losing everything that made me who I was, desperately grasping onto everything I had been taught and believed to keep myself sane and alive. I had no idea who I was anymore, I'd even forgotten what my own laughter sounded like. I spent more nights crying than my entire life put together, but soon, I stopped crying altogether. I was numb. Numb to pain, numb to happiness. I stopped feeling almost everything. I've never felt more alone or abandoned. Life was cold and dark. And I was shattered.
This was probably one of the lowest points I have ever reached in my life. My parents, although the most supportive and loving beings on the planet (at least in my book), were states away from me at the time, and after talking with them about it for a while, we knew it was for the best that they stay where they were, and that I stay where I was. They were there for me emotionally, and never more than a phone call away, but physically I just felt so alone and helpless.
I was never really one to ask why things happened to me in life, because I always understood that there are circumstances that are beyond control, and you don't get to pick your lot in life. But there were times that I just cried and wondered what I was supposed to do with myself after all this? and how could I ever forgive this person? and if I couldn't, what kind of person did this make me? how was I supposed to live with myself? and how would I ever find anyone who didn't see ms as 'tainted' or 'flawed'? was I stupid? or naive? how could I not have seen this coming?
All these and probably hundreds more questions haunted me every single day. For years.
Now, I know there are plenty of people who aren't religious who go through situations similar to my own, and they get through it and lead happy lives. That's not what I'm writing this for. I'm not here to argue or bible bash with anyone. I'm here to tell you my story. I'm not here to shove anything down anyone's throat. It's not my place nor my intent. But I want to tell you who I am. And this is largely what makes me who I am.
Like I said before, physically, geographically, I felt so alone. Being single and being alone are two incredibly different things, because I know firsthand how truly alone you can be with someone right next to you.
I literally had nothing but my faith to turn to. The little bit of me I had left, I threw at the Lord's feet, and just begged for Him to pick me up and make me whole again.
For my high school graduation, over four years ago, my parents gave me a ring that I still wear to this day. It's misshapen, it has been lost, absolutely worn out, but I never take it off...and this is why: on the ring, engraven so small I can barely read it, is the Footsteps Poem.

'So I said to the Lord, "You promised me Lord, that if I would follow you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods in my life there have been only one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most you have not been there for me?" The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand is when I carried you."'

I have no words. Typing that poem brought me back to every moment I've ever felt this in my life. Actually, typing this whole story has brought me back to all the times I've ever felt this. And that's just it. Religion may not be logical, but I can never deny the reality of God after being brought through my own personal hell by what I know was the Lord's arms. I don't pretend to be a genius, or to be able to explain much of anything, but I can tell you I know what God has brought me through, and where He has brought me today, and I wouldn't change a thing. What I went through was horrific to me, and I wish it upon no one. But I wouldn't trade it for anything because of the knowledge of Christ's atonement that I have now. I've never known so much pain, but I've never known so much peace. There's nothing in this physical world that can take away the pain and hatred and bitterness that was in my soul, but the atonement did exactly that. I don't want to live my life bitter at someone, or hating them for anything. It does them no harm at all - they don't hurt when I hate them! But it causes me pain everyday - I have to relive that hell every time I take the time to hate him. Who wants to live that way? I refuse to live that way. I refuse to give him or anyone that power over me. That's what Christ did for me. Gave me the power to love again. He didn't just make me me again, He made me so much more of a person than I was before. I liked who I was before, but I'm so much more now. But I could never ever be the person I am today without the atonement of Jesus Christ. I just couldn't.
And that's why I can't deny my religion. It's not something I can logically explain to you, and I will never try to. It's a feeling. Plain and simple - the best feeling.
<3

I have deep thoughts, on occasion, although they are usually drug induced.

The title of this post is, sadly, very true.

You see, I have chronic migraines. Unfortunately, the only thing that actually works is taking a Lortab, Percocet, or chugging a Monster. I'm a pretty Chatty Patty on those babies. Filter? What filter? Philosophical thoughts? I have plenty, and don't worry, you'll hear them all, because I won't let you get a word in, sweetheartc and that's ok, because I'm really funny anyway. Oh, funny? Please, I'm a freaking comedian, and I know it. I don't need you to laugh at me, I'll laugh at me, because I know I'm funny, and I know you know it, too, because even though you're not laughing, oh, wait, no, you're laughing. See? Told you I was funny. I don't even think I'm funny, because I don't have to think I'm funny, because I know I'm funny. You should ask me for advice, too, because I'll give you the best advice, especially right now. Hey, tell me how funny I am. I can sing too, have you heard me sing? I'll sing for you, shh. Listen. See, wasn't that good? No, it was great. Why am I not famous? I should be famous, I probably am famous, I just know it would be too much work to be famous, so I'm not. We should tell these other people how funny I am. I should tell you a story, you'd like that, huh? K. I have really good stories and they're super funny, too. I don't know why people don't let me drive on these things, because I'm pretty sure I feel really good right now. Know what? I still have a migraine. Guess what? I can feel it. Right here, see, right here. But guess what else? I don't even care. Know why? Because I feel great. I don't even care that I have a migraine still, hear that, I don't care. But I still have one! But I don't care, you stupid migraine, I can still feel you, hahaaa. I feel good. Now I understand why people do drugs. I don't think I would ever do alcohol, no, I totally wouldn't do alcohol, but drugs, I think I understand why people do drugs. But drugs are bad. Oh, I think if I weren't Mormon I might do drugs though. That's good that I'm Mormon, huh? I don't like drugs, but I feel really good. And I'm super funny. Why isn't anyone else talking? It's because I'm so funny, huh? It's ok, I'll keep talking, it's fine. You guys are funny too, though. Did we pass our exit? Wait, where are we going? Did I want to go? I don't remember. Did I eat yet? It's ok, I'm not hungry anyway. I think. Maybe I should eat anyway. Hey, I don't even care that I have a migraine right now. I wish I had more friends in low places. Do we have friends in low places, mom? I just don't want to have to pay for these. But it's the only thing that works. Migraines suck. Where are we going? Wait, I like this song. HIIIIIII! Ha, do you think they'll wave back? Hey, they didn't wave back, that's rude, RUUUUDE! Mom, let's make faces at them. Ready? FAT FACE..... ha, did you see that?! Let's do it again. Ready?! HA! I made my upper lip disappear, cool huh? Hey, he laughed. He knows I'm funny, too! I like that guy. Let's do it again. Mom, where are we going? Did I eat yet?

That's a typical conversation I might have....on happy pills with a migraine. It's embarrassing, but...you'd probably laugh just because I'm that freaking ridiculous, and you might actually laugh because you're embarrassed for me. Don't be, I am clearly not embarrassed.

In all reality,and for all those times I can't take a Lortab or a Monster, they are incredibly debilitating and, although I am learning to live with them, they have brought on a multitude of strange problems.One of those problems? Lapses in memory. I'm not kidding. If you have a conversation with me while I have a migraine, please don't even expect me to remember 80% of it. Sometimes it doesn't just affect my memory during my migraine. I just have a really bad memory now in general. Just the other day my mom and I were having a conversation about dinner, at least I am pretty sure we were (she says yes, we were), and suddenly I stopped and said, "Wait, mom, did you say something about pancakes?" She paused, crinkled her brow and said, "Yes... like... ten minutes ago... I was talking about those oven pancakes, the ones with the apples on them..."

Needless to say I was puzzled.

And would have probably been embarrassed had it been anyone but my mother.

Anyway, I have no memory with my migraines now, that much is true. But what helps with my migraines, you ask? What a good question reader, let me tell you.

I have had these migraines ever since I was a kid, but not chronically. I would get a few every year growing up, and they would knock me on my butt and I would just cry until I realized that crying made my head hurt worse, so I would just let the tears leak on out because I couldn't sob. Draped in cold washcloths from head to toe, I would lay there and try and sleep, get blessings from my sweet daddy, and wait it out. I remember one particular time when I was about six that I did exactly this. Laying on the big couch in our living room, straight across from the giant window...I made mom shut the blinds and cover my face with a washcloth. I just remember crying. I didn't know anything could hurt so bad.

Well, they didn't go away. About a year ago I got a free gym pass for a month, and I became obsessed. I LOVED the gym!! I would go almost everyday and elliptical my little heart out, then go lift weights to my hearts content. The only problem was my migraines were becoming more and more frequent, and they were becoming more severe. Finally, I was forced to stop working out altogether because my head just couldn't handle it. I had a migraine almost every other day. I was that crying six year old all over again.

They just got worse and worse. Tylenol did nothing, Excedrin didn't touch it, I felt so helpless. There was no way I could hold a job. It was miserable to even be awake, but my head was so bad I could hardly sleep. One day, when my parents were out of town, my head got so bad, one of the worst migraines I'd ever had. I called a member of the bishopric in my ward, just knowing I needed a blessing, otherwise there was no way I was getting through the night. I got a blessing and a few Flexarils to take. They didn't touch the headache, but luckily they knocked me out. The sad part is, sleeping doesn't get rid of them! It is pretty common for my migraines to last for days on end. One of them lasted 3 weeks. Murder. MURDER.

The only thing that helped me was taking a Lortab or a Percocet. I was still in pain, I was just too, shall we say high, to care at all. I was desperate for answers. I went to the doctor, who prescribed me one drug after another. Some didn't work at all, and some did until my body got used to it, then it would stop working all together. Talk about frustrating.

One day, I started sipping a Monster, and to my very pleasant surprise, my migraine faded. I was shocked. Had I finally found my miracle drug? All reason told me it was the crazy amounts of caffeine in the drink, so, logically, I went out and bought caffeine pills. Guess what? Nothing happened.

So, back to square one. My miracle drug was probably the most unhealthy thing I could possibly find, and I had to drink one everyday just to function without a migraine. I weighed the pros and cons. But I had a job, and I couldn't do that job with a migraine. So, I started my Monster diet. I had no clue why it worked, but it did, and I was not about to argue. But guess what? My body got used to that too, and they stopped working. So I backed off, and started dealing with the migraines again.

I'll be honest. I'm still dealing with them almost on the daily. My neurologist has me looking forward to menopause, though, as she seems to think that's the only way I'll be able to get rid of them. In the mean time, I ration my Monsters and Lortabs and only use them when I absolutely can't stand the migraine. Too bad it's everyone else that can stand me with a migraine. I can be a tad beastly when they hit me real bad. I have such an angelic family.

I'm sure part of it is that I've just gotten used to the migraines, because even though I still get them often, I can usually still function for the most part, unless they get really really bad. You learn to live with things, and you have faith that the Lord will help you get through it all and accomplish the things that you need to get done. And that, my friends, I know He will. And He has! It is a constant battle, but you have to do your part before the Lord will do His. Keep fighting the good fight and never lose hope. The Lord will get you through whatever, just like He is going to get me through these migraines. Even if I have to live with them forever, He will make it possible for me to still have a life.

And maybe still embarrass myself once in a while with those Lortabs and Monsters....

Until next time, sweet readers.

Stay Hilarious.

<3 p="p">

But, I'm pretty sure these jeans fit yesterday...

I often complain about my weight. I'll be straight with you. I'm a girl, I look at other girls and sometimes wish that I had their legs, or their arms, or their twelve pack abs (this is rare, but not a lie). I look at their hair that dries perfectly out of the shower with longing. Full, luscious lips, perfectly tan complexions, nary a roll to be spied on their figure; these are all things I have seen on others and long to have myself.

When I have one of these moments, I am immediately brought back to my high school days. I was so thin. So thin to the point that I didn't really like it. I was too skinny. I had a figure, but everything was just too thin. Regardless, this look was my normal (I am not saying that this is your normal or anyone else's normal, it was just the way my body was at the time). I was used to things fitting a little loose, and when I did find something that fit me right, it was never long enough. I was used to it. I had good skin, I had naturally curly hair, I had a tan, and I was pretty happy with myself. I wasn't the most popular or the most athletic. I wasn't a cheerleader or in sports. I wasn't in student council, and I didn't "rule the school" by any means, but I was good with myself and I liked me.

Now, here's the weird part.

I stayed that thin and didn't fill out until I was 20 years old.

Yeah. Not 14. Not 16. Not even 18.

20.

Talk about hitting puberty a little late, right?

Well, suddenly I had hips that wouldn't fit into all my very favorite jeans! What mortified me the most about this was that I had to go shop for a whole new wardrobe. This is the girl who absolutely loves clothes but hates spending money. Worst. Nightmare. Ever.

It was basically an ENTIRE new wardrobe for this chick.

Yippee.

On top of all that, I didn't feel like myself anymore. I hadn't done anything differently - changed my diet or exercise routine, and if anything I was working out more than I ever had before. I still put on about 20 pounds in a matter of maybe 2 months. My used-to-be 100-105 pound frame was now a 120-125 pound frame. Granted, it was weight that I desperately needed, but I didn't care. I didn't feel the same - I didn't feel pretty. In my mind, my "pretty" was to be really thin. Now, when I looked at myself in the mirror all I saw was curves I didn't recognize, and it all just looked weird and so unattractive to my eyes. I hated it.

This went on for a while. I struggled with accepting and loving my new figure. I was pretty sure I was a good 6 years late on this whole changing thing, but I was not having it. Most girls go through this in Jr. High or High School, and here I was, a 20 year old woman feeling like a 14 year old adolescent girl. And just like any 14 year old, I felt like bursting into tears at the most inopportune moments, and sometimes, I did.

Lest you think that I'm still in this stage of acceptance, I assure you, I am not. But I'll get to that. Bear with me, dear readers!

Months ago I finally just came to the realization that this is how I am. I'm not fat by any means, but I'm no stick. I got curves, and I've grown quite fond of them. My hair is pretty straight, but now I have fun with that. Sometimes I miss the curly hair days, but my hair is still thick and holds a curl when I want it to, so it's not boring. This is how I am now, and there's nothing wrong with it!

But you want to know what really made me love this change in my appearance?

It was the fact that inside and out, I am a completely different person than I was two years ago.

And I couldn't be happier about it.

Heavenly Father blesses us in ways that we totally don't understand or recognize. Sometimes we recognize those blessings right away. Sometimes we don't recognize them for years. We may not recognize them throughout our entire lifetime! But they're there, and He does bless us.

For me, my "late puberty," or whatever you want to call it, was a huge blessing. I realized, with the help of my best friend and sister, that I was completely different from who I was years ago, and that it was a really good thing. Having to buy a new wardrobe turned out to be a huge blessing. This may sound silly, but the clothes I wore in high school and first year of college had so many memories attached to them that I really don't need to hold onto, and getting rid of them was sort of an emotional and mental detox for me. By throwing out my old wardrobe, I was saying get the freak out of my life you crazies goodbye forever to that phase of my life. What a blessing! Maybe my Father in Heaven knew that would be the best way to help me really say goodbye to that part of my life. He does know me better than I know me, after all.

Blessings come in the strangest ways, but in the most perfect ways as well. What seemed to be a really hard trial for me, turned out to be a blessing in disguise, but I was too caught up in my frustration and confusion to realize it at first. I realize now that I wasted so much time being upset and confused. Don't waste your time, my dears! There's too much life to enjoy, and if you're busy worried about yourself, you'll miss it all.

Until next time, sweet readers. <3

Haven't seen you in a few millennia... Gimme some tassle.

I currently feel like a horrible human being.

"Why," you may ask yourselves, "does this young woman feel like a horrible human being?"

Well. Let me tell you why, gentle reader, let me tell you.

I have failed you as readers.

I have! I have neglected your beautiful, beautiful selves. While I fail to see, sometimes, why anyone would want to read about my silly, humdrum life, I recognize that there are a few of you who genuinely enjoy my posts on here. I sincerely apologize for that, and I hope you can forgive me as I try to do my best to make up for it.

What made me stop posting for so long?

A case of serious writer's constipation, something far worse than whatever "writer's block" is. It was GENUIINE constipation, people. As in there weren't no way nothin's comin' outta these here fingers onto this here cyber page, nosirree. I just couldn't do it! I was in such a crampy (not crappy) place mentally, I guess, that I could just never bring myself to sit down and type. Putting too much pressure on myself was one of the biggest problems. I expect so much of myself sometimes, and when I fall short, it just kills me. The problem is, that instead of fixing the problem, I pretend I'm fine and ignore it, even though I'm totally not fine. That, clearly, happened with this blog.

But that's all about to change. Know why? Because I realized how much I miss writing. I'm no Edgar Allen Poe or Elizabeth Peters (shame be upon me for even considering a comparison), but I am me, and I like writing. So I write.

I have internal battles sometimes. I stress over something to the point of being ridiculous, when really it's not even worth my time to stress about it at all. So I decided to try something new, it's called not stressing. Going with the flow. Letting things happen. Not getting worked up. (I can see your jaw dropping. Relax. Breathe with me.) How about that, huh? Just let things go. If I feel like doing something, by golly, I'm gonna do it! And lemme tell ya folks, I'm a weird kid. I think after moving to California, it kinda threw off my zen. That whole thing about moving to another place and recreating yourself is what I really tried to do. I loved the idea of moving away from Utah, to a place where hardly anyone knew me, and just being myself! The problem with that was I would often fight this internal battle with myself; who was I really? Did I really know who I was trying to become? If I didn't know, how could these other people know?

I had to get to a point inside that I knew who I was, and I was completely ok with myself, flaws and all. It's a hard place to get to, and if I'm being completely honest, I think it's a process; I don't think I'm there yet, but I'm definitely way better than I was 6 months ago. It's a place of self confidence and trust in myself that I thought I had before, but realize now that I didn't.

On an unrelated, but sort of related note, I stole the title of this post from Aladdin. Let's analyze for a second, shall we? Aladdin: a poor street urchin, came from nothing, destined for nothing. Jasmine: a rich princess, came from riches, destined to marry someone she doesn't love. What happens? Well, Aladdin, the street urchin destined for the poverish life he's always known, falls in love with the princess destined for a life far from his own. He chases her, he woos her, she falls in love with him, and they both get exactly what they wanted. Him, a life of riches and love, her, a life with someone she actually loves.

Pretty sweet what a genie can do, huh?

Ha, you thought I was going to say something about "chasing your dreams" or stuff like that! Silly reader...

But really though, chase your dreams, because the worst you can do is fail and learn the greatest lesson of your life, and that's still a heck of a lot better than standing still, don't you think?

Look at Aladdin. If he hadn't gone after that princess, he'd probably be in a jail.

So chase your dreams. Don't lose hope in yourself. I think you'll be pretty happy with the results.

Cheers, my dear, sweet readers. Cheers :) <3

Things have to get so much worse in the process of getting better

To you faithful readers, I do sincerely apologize for not posting like... ever. I fail, completely. My bad, ya'll, my bad. But I'll make it up to you! Yes indeed, really. At least I think I will. My thoughts have been all over the place lately, and I can't even pinpoint a particular topic that they've been on, so let's just jump right in, shall we?
I read a quote today in a book that I started reading. It's called "Hearts in Hiding" by Betsy Brannon Green. She is an LDS author, and the book is actually pretty interesting. I'm a little cautious of novels by LDS authors, but my dear friend and employer, Ashna, recommended that I read it, and so far I have not been disappointed. The main character, Kate Singleton, is a young, pregnant widow. Her husband worked for the FBI and was killed in the line of duty. The operation her husband was involved in now wants Kate dead, so the FBI has put her into the witness protection program, moves from Chicago to a small town outside of Washington D.C. and part of her cover is to marry an agent who shares her LDS faith. The story follows her life there, and her adjustment to being legally married to a man she hardly knows. There was a quote in the book that really caught my attention, though. Kate is thinking to herself and says, "who would have thought that things have to get so much worse in the process of getting better?"

I read that quote and immediately had to write it down. In fact, I even tweeted it. Don't judge me.

But really though, who would think that things have to get worse in the process of getting better? Kate Singleton was really talking about her house being remodeled, not about life. So let's talk about remodeling a house, because I think it is the perfect analogy. Before the old house is renovated, it is livable, but it isn't comfortable, and it's nothing that Kate wants. It was built in the early 1900's, and doesn't seem like much has been done to keep it up. There's leaks in the roof, all of the wallpaper is old and torn in places, the pain is old and faded, the baseboards need sanding and staining, there are holes in some of the walls, and the wood floor is worn. Kate has two choices. She can live with the house as it is and just deal with the things that are wrong with it. After all, she's pregnant, and that would take a lot of work to fix up a house. Or, she could do the work it takes to fix up the house and make it more than livable, but make it better than it ever was before. It will take effort, and she will need help, but the reward in the end is that she has a house far greater than the house she first moved into.

I'm sure you're thinking, "well, of course she will remodel the house, duh."

I assure you, those are my thoughts exactly.

Well, let me tell you, she does remodel that house! I know you were in suspense.

So, aren't our lives kind of like that house? When suddenly you wake up and realize that you might need to remodel your life, I hope you don't NOT remodel it, just because you know it WILL get worse in the process of getting better. After her house is remodeled, though, it's 100x better than it ever was in the beginning. The same story could be told about our lives. Things HAVE to get worse before they get better. Things HAVE to be ugly for a short time before they get better. But that doesn't mean that the reward isn't worth it, because it always, always is.

I felt like that quote was the story of my life lately. Sometimes, it takes little things like that to help you understand what you are going through and make you feel better. God works in mysterious ways, but they're always the way that you need them. I wish I had more time to write, because I have more feelings than this, but, alas, I must go to class.

Farewell, dear readers. <3

Life's short: eat cheezits

Setting: daytime, in the kitchen, in southern California. The sun is shining.
I sit at the bar looking at my mom, while she sips pero leisurely out of a white ceramic mug. We are having a serious conversation. About what exactly? I can't say that I recall. I ask my mom a very serious question, to which she responds with a pensive look for two seconds before saying, "I don't know." She then proceeds to pull Cheezits from her sweats pocket and put them into her mouth.
My mouth falls open.
"Mom... did you really just pull cheezits out of your pocket?"
She looks at me sheepishly, "...Yes... it saves me a trip to the cupboard!"
I adore my mother with all of my heart. This woman knows what's up. Who needs another trip to the cupboard to grab some Cheezits when you have a perfectly respectable pocket that can carry them just fine? Nobody, I tell you, nobody!
I have since taken to carrying things in my sweats pockets, so don't be alarmed if I pull something out of them like, say, a sandwich, or the contents of my purse, aight? Just sayin'. But really though.
We never know how long life is going to be, do we? You could live sixty more years, you could live sixty more seconds, you could live your life without eating another cheezit in your life, and what kind of life would that be? Probably a slightly healthy one. But usually, if I'm craving cheezits and I don't get cheezits, I just eat around the craving. It's a proven scientific fact, folks.
But seriously, you don't know how long life will last. Do your best, be your best, be your kindest, most honest, most loving, most generous self. Be happy with yourself at the end of the day knowing that you have done what's right. Always strive to find that happiness in knowing that God is pleased with your life.Wake up thankful for every day that the Lord has granted you to live. Wake up knowing that the same Lord that granted you another day of life, loves you and loves everyone else you've ever come in contact with. Look through someone else's eyes whenever you have the chance. See the world through their perspective. Be compassionate, be sympathetic, be understanding, be forgiving. Be everything that you want someone else to be to you. And above all, be you. You are you for a reason. There is no one else like you! Be grateful that you're the only you.
Sometimes we feel like the best people seem to have the hardest lives. But at the same time, it's those great people with the hard lives that seem to have the best lives, because they don't waste their time blaming the world for hardships that have tripped them up. Instead they seem to find the happiness and beauty and joy in learning from the trials that they're given. Because that's what they are: given. They are a gift. Without the trials you've made it through thus far in life, you would never have become the person you are today. Be grateful you have the opportunity to better understand the rest of God's children. He understands us perfectly, and when we're given the opportunity to go through something really difficult, I feel like we're given the chance to become that much more like Him, if we choose to. You have two options: happiness or bitterness. Do you even have to think about what you choose? I know I don't!
Life happens. Things happen that you cannot control. Don't waste your time being angry about them, because you don't hurt anyone but yourself.
So go stuff some cheezits in your pockets and be happy.

Cheers, loves. <3

I hate the Doctor. But at least mine is from Trinidad.

I made my mom come with me to the doctor. I'm a sissy. Yeah, get over it. I'm twenty one years old, and I made my mom come with me to the doctor this morning. And I went in sweats.
I'm over it, you should be too.
On top of that, I was fasting.
I don't fast. I'm not supposed to fast. Bad things happen. But, since they were taking my blood, I knew I had to.
I think I almost passed out like fifty times.
So anyway, I hate the doctor. But mine is from Trinidad and she has four names. Yeah, she's black, she's got swag, and she's from the islands. Does it get much cooler?! I vote no. And actually, she was really nice.
So I was speculating with my mom as to why I hate the doctor. I just do! I love the dentist, but I hate going to the doctor. We finally decided that it must be because sometimes doctor's have bad news. Like, what if they take all their tests and the doctor tells me I have three weeks to live? Or what if she takes one look inside my ears and tells me I have a tumor in my ear? JUST WHAT IF, PEOPLE!! OKAY?!?!
I get real nervous about it.
So whilst I was praying my little heart out on the way to the doctor's office, my mother was patiently driving behind some numbskulls in the right-hand lane. Ordinarily, I would have been particularly perturbed by the other driver's bullheadedness, but considering my circumstances, I can't say I was doing much of anything besides complaining that I was hungry in between little inward outbursts of prayers. Like I said, I don't do well without food. I have extremely low blood sugar, and when it dips, I get grumpy, then I get tired, then I black out. Not good things, peeps, not good!
We waited for half an hour before I even got in to see the doctor. I woke up right before 8, and I didn't get in to see the doctor until ten minutes past 10. And then this teeny little girl, probably not even five feet tall walks into the waiting room wearing skinny jeans, ugg boots, a Drake t-shirt and a fur hat, tucks her little right foot underneath her left leg, and looks snugger than a bug in a rug sitting on that uncomfortable waiting room chair. Her fairy feet didn't even touch the ground! I mean, this girl was tiny. So I turn to my mom and tell her how I've always been really jealous of really short girls, because I'm nothing but legs and no matter how hard I try to fit into little spaces like that, it just doesn't work! Thank goodness she agreed with me, even if she was just trying to get me to calm down. Seriously, even five minutes I was saying something like, "They must have forgotten me. Should I go say something to the nurse?" "No, I do NOT want to be THAT patient..." "Are we at the wrong office?" "Was I supposed to give them another paper?" "What if all my information is wrong?"
I'm just now realizing how amazing my mom is for putting up with all of my nonsensical rambling. Thanks mom :) you're the best ever.
But let's be real. Doctors - usually they are old men. Right? Right. They have man hands. Right? Right. They're usually slightly scary looking. Right? Right. Sometimes they smell like old Old Spice. Don't fight me on this. I'm right. Swan dive.
Not to say that old man handy old spicey men aren't fabulous individuals, because my doctors who may or may not fit that description were fabulous individuals, but that doesn't mean I wasn't terrified to death every single time I walk into the office.
Also, I always get higher readings on my blood pressure and heart rate because I'm freakishly nervous. I have a really low heart rate, and a really low blood pressure, and actually... when I go to the doctor, my heart rate is always high, and my blood pressure is always normal (which is high for me... ). Which is always frustrating to say the least.
And then your doctor always has to ask you something like, "so... what's up?" And I almost wanna be like, "Well, you know, same old same old, how about you?" But instead I just stare at her with wide eyes for a second accompanied by a dull "uhhh...." and turn to my mom behind me, with yet another, "uhhhh... *gulp*... uhhhh.... well... I'm really tired all the time... and uhhhh..." and my mom interjects something about how I fall asleep on piles of clothes in the afternoons some days, and if it's not a pile of clothes, it's just the floor. "I uhhhhh.... " I turn back to stare at the mom again. Oh how mothers save the day. I honestly would have died without her. Of fright and stupidity. I honestly lost my memory somewhere between the blood pressure machine and the gray table/chair thing that I occupied at the time of the nonsensical rambling. All I could think about was that banana and granola bar waiting for me in my purse as soon as I got done with that blood work. That thought kept me sane.
And then came the pharmacy and the blood work. Wait in line, drop off prescription. Wait in line, get number for blood work. Get up, pick up prescription. Sit down, wait for number to be called. Proceed to people watch.
Finally. Oh heavens. Of course I would get the phlebotomist that wiggles the needle around every time she removes and inserts a vial, which there conveniently happened to be four of. I tell you what, I have become one squeamish little individual over the years. Maybe phlebotomy is just an organization of vampires that have figured out a way to dupe society into believing that doctor's actually need our blood for "test" when really it's just so this hoard of creepy people who like blood, a.k.a vampires, can continue to exist. Prove me wrong, I dare you. Just kidding. I don't feel like talking about blood that much.
And so, as lame as this blog post was, I just want you all to know that I do not like the doctor, but I do like my doctor's accent. Also, I survived it. Here's to the folks who can do what I can't! Here, here, Doctor Jacob-Fox, you foxy doctor, you.

Sweet dreams, gentle readers.

God has a sense of humor.

I really, truly believe that God has a sense of humor.
But really, He has to. God created us, and He created our emotions, and we are created in His image. However, He is perfect, and we are not, therefore, He has perfect control over His emotions, when we do not. He would definitely have the best sense of humor, I'm entirely certain of that. He probably has the best jokes ever.
I can't wait for the millennium.
I bring this up because of something that happened to me last night.
Life is incredibly difficult, as we all know. We all face different trials and challenges and hardship, and the Lord knows and understands this. Well, I've been having just one of those weeks (or two); it's just been tough. I know the Lord understands, though, so I do my best to keep a positive attitude about things and find things to be happy and cheerful about. And this is why I know God has a sense of humor.
Last night I had to go pick up my sister from her friend's house, and I had to run to Walmart to pick something up. We only have one car now, since my other car got stolen a couple weeks ago, so there is much dropping off and picking up of various people to various places. I had just gotten home from Family Home Evening, and I was the only one dressed, so my parents asked if I could go pick up my sister, so I said yes. I picked her up and we went over to Walmart together. I had taken my dad's truck, since my BMW (my non-stolen car) was expired and I didn't want to risk getting pulled over.
As we pulled into the Walmart parking lot, I zeroed in on a spot, made a beeline for it and proceeded to park the truck.
Parking a truck is very different than parking a little bitty four-door sedan. Oh, so very different.
I was turning right into this parking spot, and there was a mini-van parked directly to the right of it, and on the left side of the parking spot there were four carts, three of which were hooked together. I knew I wasn't going to be able to make this turn without hitting the carts, but I thought, what the heck, they're just carts, and there aren't any cars around for them to hit if they roll anywhere, so I nicked them just enough to where I could get into my spot.
Well, I had only left about a foot of room between myself and the mini van to the right.
Oops.
To my left I'm suddenly watching these three carts roll backwards and slowly pick up speed... apparently I had hit them just right. I'm watching in the side view mirror as these carts gain speed as they make their way toward the road. Meanwhile, the owner of the mini van is impatiently waiting for me to move so he can get into his van. By now the carts have gained the speed they need to apparently flip around and head straight into oncoming traffic, causing quite a pileup of cars. I'm really trying to focus on the Indian man that wants to get into his van, but I really can't keep it together, because I'm watching these three carts as they travel down the street. They seriously look like they are being pushed by invisible people.
My sister and I are in tears laughing our heads off.
And then someone pulls into the spot to my left. My Indian friend is still waiting to get into his car, so I motion to the black lady that parked to my left that she can go, but she shakes her head and stares at me with wide eyes, muttering under her breath. I am entirely certain she was either terrified out of her mind or she was counteracting my black magic, as she must have thought those carts were being propelled by some evil force of my own.
I'm still in tears of laughter.
I finally pull myself together enough to straighten out the truck so my Indian friend can leave. And leave he does. I'm sure he thought we were psychotic. He saw those runaway carts too, and I'm entirely sure he was under the same impression that our black lady friend was, whatever that was.
But I really don't care, because I had the time of my life. That honestly may have been, hands down, one of the funniest things that has ever happened to me in my entire life thus far.
When my sister and I got out of the car, we about lost ourselves again when we saw the three carts, still hooked together, sitting in the middle of the street way at the bottom.
And thus, God has a sense of humor. I'm sure He knew I was in need of a pick-me-up. Also, I'm sure he has some pretty comical angels out there (Bob Hope, anyone?) and let's be honest, if you were a dead funny man, wouldn't you love doing things like that? Yeah, I'm pretty sure Bob Hope was pushing those carts of mine just for my merriment :) and merry I was that night.

Cheers, readers.
Notice the fun things in life, huh? Good. Ok. Class dismissed.

I'm walking with an angel.

We moved to Provo when I was two years old. At first we lived on a street called Cherry lane, and a couple years later moved around the corner to Ash Avenue. Our house on Ash was the rented, upstairs floor of small, two bedroom, one bathroom home. Our landlady was old and lived elsewhere. In the basement of our house a separate kitchen, a bedroom, an old washroom, a bathroom and a huge room full of.. stuff. I don't even know what was in that room - a piano, furniture, boxes of dishes maybe - but I do have a memory of looking into that room and wondering how on earth things could be so old and dusty and forgotten, because that's what they were: old, dusty and forgotten. Part of me wanted to explore all the forgotten parts of this room, but the other, stronger part, was too terrified of what bugs and cobwebs might be in that room, and also knew that we weren't allowed in that room anyway. Miss Guilty Conscience here didn't like getting in trouble.
Our backyard was deep, green and beautiful. We had an irrigation ditch that ran the width of our yard along the back fence which my baby sister, less than a year old at the time, practically lived in. When she wasn't asking to take a nap, she was half naked, sitting in the irrigation ditch with the dog. We also had a big walnut tree that my brother and I used to string my barbies from which his G.I. Joes heroically saved, and a sandbox with a wooden frame that we put so many burn marks into from failed, and successful, attempts at burning ants and other bugs with a magnifying glass.
Our next-door neighbors to the left were an elderly couple that quickly became our fourth set of grandparents. My baby sister would go over to their house and ask if "diduh wayenn" (sister warren) could play. And play they did! You could hardly understand a word that came out of my sister's mouth, but she didn't mind as long as you nodded your head and pretended like you understood, and she'd go right on babbling!
They lived in a two-story house. Their kitchen was huge, their bedroom was peach colored, and their couches were white, velvet floral, and will forever be ingrained in my childhood. In their backyard, they had a huge walnut tree, two apple trees up against the fence with a hammock strung between them, and the "Little House," inside of which, we all put our hand prints. For a little while, they even had a shaggy white dog named Chaka (Shaka maybe, I have no idea how to spell it) that was so crazy he had to be fenced all the time. We loved that dog, though, and we fed it "Chakaberries" from the "Chakaberry bush" next to his cage pretty much everyday. I'm a hundred percent sure there is no such thing as a Chakaberry bush, and I'm also a hundred percent sure I don't know what the real name of that bush was!
We would go camping with gramps and gran every summer, at least once, have fires in their backyard, do projects with gramps, and make cookies with gran. It was every child's dream! I learned so much from my sweet grandparents, and I still learn so much from them. It's funny how one thing said to you as a child can mean something entirely different once you grow up.
When we were younger, my brother and sister and I would head over to gramps' and gran's, and if any of us ever accidentally uttered the word "can't" we were promptly told by our no-nonsense gran to stop our swearing. There was no way on this earth that our gran would ever let us use that word in her house, let alone in our vocabulary, if she could help it. At the time, I didn't think much of it, in fact, I just thought it was a silly rule, because I thought it entirely true that I couldn't do certain things. But there was simply no way gran was going to have any of that. So we learned to say things like, "not able to at this time," or "don't understand how to at this time," or "will be able to."
Can I just say it was borderline annoying as a five year old? Looking back now, however, I see the wisdom in her words. The moment you say "can't" you put a limitation on yourself. We are capable of tremendous things. No one thought Helen Keller would ever be able to do much of anything, let alone speak, and yet she did. And what about that girl who swam the English Channel with no arms or legs? She did what no one thought she could do, either.
You're stronger than you think you are. You can do the things you don't think you can. You have within you the power to do great things.
One of the things that I loved about my gramps and gran was their little expressions of love toward each other. Everyday before work, gramps would leave a note for gran on a paper napkin. Usually it would say something like, "I love you," but he would change it up every day. She hung that napkin on the fridge everyday, and replaced it with a new note the next day. Even as a little girl, I thought that was probably the sweetest thing I'd ever seen any man do for his wife. He treated her, and still treats her, so amazingly. I can only hope I marry a man half as amazing as my gramps.
I remember on one camping trip taking a walk with my gramps. He lovingly held my soft, small hand in his rough, calloused hand, as we walked along the paved road inbetween campsites. His hands felt worn, but they were strong and comforting and made me feel safe. Softly, I could hear him singing a melody, "I'm walkin' with an angel, an angel, an angel, I'm walkin' with an angel..." as we made our way through the campsite. When I asked him what the song was, he asked me what I thought it meant. I asked him if he meant the angel was me. He smiled, and with a twinkle in his wise and thoughtful eyes, he told me that even though that was true, that wasn't exactly what he meant by the song. Then he told me a story.
My gramps and gran had two sons. To my knowledge, at the time, those were their only children. In fact, one of their sons used a fifty cent ring that I had gotten out of a vending machine to propose to his wife. But that's another story. What I didn't know was that my gramps and gran had had another child - a daughter. She passed away a few days after she was born due to complications. I was surprised to see my gramps smile as he told me the story, and I wondered why he didn't seem sadder. But then he went on to tell me that sometimes when he would go on walks by himself, he could feel his daughter walking right by his side. He said he knew it then, too. We were walking with an angel.
And I could feel her walking with us then as we walked through the trees together. As we walked, I joined in singing that sweet melody with my gramps. The three of us, walking together through the beautiful woods. It's one of my sweetest memories.
I wish right now that I could sing that beautiful melody to all of you, because the words alone on this page don't do the melody justice. But I hope you feel at least a little bit of what I'm feeling as I write this. Sometimes I sing that song to myself, and I close my eyes, and I remember the feeling of my gramps rough, loving hand closed around mine, feeling like nothing in the world could hurt me, feeling all the love in the world, and knowing, without a doubt, that I was walking with an angel. In fact, I often find that sweet melody drifting through my thoughts throughout the day, and I wonder why it has stuck with me so long. Sometimes I wonder if I still have the melody right, or if I've mixed it with another melody I'm familiar with.
But that melody and that memory mean so much to me. That knowledge, knowing that there are angels around us all the time, has been part of my testimony for such a long time. I know, without a doubt, that we walk with angels all the time. There have been times in my life that I've felt so heavy, and I know that the only way possible that I made it through those days at all is because those angels were holding me up.
Just take the time to feel those angels around you, walking with you.
You're walking with an angel.
<3

I am not Clark Kent, I am Superman.

More often than not I find myself lifting up my head just enough to where I look like an nerdy snob whenever I wear my glasses. You know the look - your glasses are just too low, but you either don't have the hands to push them up where they belong, you're just too lazy, or, in my case, your eyelashes are too long for you to really be wearing glasses anyway, but since you do, you can only shove them up so far on the bridge of your nose before they're running into your eyeballs, so you are destined to look like a nerdy snob. The only option I have is to lift my chin up so I can see. Thus, resulting in the nerdy snob look. Ah well, I blame genetics for both my bad eyes and my bug eyes. I get the bug eyes from my mother - big eyes with really long eyelashes. I only have 12 eyelashes, though - 3 on each lid. They're long though! Ok, slight exaggeration, but in comparison to my sister, I feel like I have 12 eyelashes! Who I got the bad eyes from, though, would take too long to explain, seeing as my parents both have 20/20 vision. Riddle me that, Poindexter.

Glasses are a funny thing. They can totally change the way you feel about yourself. I'm serious! When I don't wear my glasses, I feel different because, for one thing, everything is slightly fuzzy, I find myself squinting a bit, but I do feel more "present" and aware. When I do wear them though, I feel like I've stepped into a different persona! But... now that I use that analogy, I realize that it's more like Superman stepping into Clark Kent more, and to be honest, I've never been a huge Clark Kent fan. Superman is a different story; he's super cool, I mean, he's a superhero, of course he's super cool! But Clark Kent... I just could never get past his super awkwardness. We have all met nerds in our lives, and actually, I'm pretty sure we're all nerds about one thing or another. Me? I'm a Doctor Who nerd, and so proud of it. But that's another story entirely. Another time, readers, another time. Back to nerds. We all know nerds! Why is it that some nerds are super cool, and some are just... awkward? Well, I don't think I need to explain much more, but Clark Kent is just an awkward nerd. Clark Kent people skills - 0. Superman people skills - a bajillion. I don't understand why this is, because he's still the same guy, he just wears his underwear on the outside of his spandex and added a cape. How is THAT cool?

I don't wear my underwear outside of my spandex when I take my glasses off, I assure you. My glasses, though, are kind of indie, and they make me feel pretty hip and stylin' whenever I wear them. People seem to recognize me less when I wear them, though. In fact, my bishop didn't recognize me the first time I wore them to church. He came up to me later and apologized for not saying, "hello!" because he didn't know it was me.

Isn't that funny how just one little thing can change you? No one would look at Clark Kent and go, "oh hey, I'm pretty that guy is Superman!" even though they look identical... but that's not the point. Superman has made us believe that changing the way that we look will change who we are, and even turn us into superheroes. Can we really change that much about ourselves in just the blink of an eye? My mom and I were talking today about our recent move to California. Every time we moved cities in Utah she would tell me that I had the opportunity to take all the things about myself that I didn't like and change them. I had the chance to become a better person.

Most of the times I moved around was when I was younger. Looking back now, I can't remember what things I didn't like about myself that I decided to change, because they probably weren't terribly important. I think I was always the same person, but when you're in one place for so long, sometimes you become complacent with who you are, and your desire to progress as a person kind of slips away. Sometimes it's not because you don't want to change; sometimes it's because everyone already sees you as one thing, even though that may not be who you want to be. As human beings, we often get caught up in how others view us, when that, in reality, is hardly important. Are you who you want to be? Does God know who you are? Those are the things that really matter. God knows the intentions of your heart. He knows who you really are, even if no one else seems to see that. The important thing is that you portray the best you that you have.

Who we are on the inside can often be reflected by what we wear, how we carry ourselves, our demeanor, our attitude, and how we treat others. But just as often as those reflections are true, those reflections can be false. Too often, we use these things as a mask to cover who we really are, to cover up the things we don't like about ourselves. Is Clark Kent really a nerd, or is he really Superman?

I think he's Superman. The nerd is just a cover. He doesn't want people to really know that he's Superman; he doesn't want everyone to know that he has all these killer abilities and that he's super awesome! So he hides behind a desk, his glasses, his suit and tie and awkward glances. But I am not Clark Kent. I am Superman. And so are you! What have you got to be ashamed about? God made you, and He knew what He was doing when He did it. I've struggled in the past with certain things about myself. When I was 12 I got really sick and lost a lot of weight, weight that didn't come back until I graduated high school. When I did start to gain weight, it really messed with my mind. I knew I needed to gain weight in order to be healthy, but I couldn't help but feel fat. I fought those feelings, and thank goodness I shared them with my mom and my Heavenly Father, otherwise I honestly think I could have gone anorexic. I hid that about myself for a long time, though. But I know the Lord made me the way He did, and now I'm really grateful for a healthy body that works, even if I still struggle with loving the way that I look.

Inside, we have greatness. We're given so much. Don't hide the super inside you! I want so badly to take all the girls in high school by the hand and tell them how beautiful they are, and tell them that the things they think matter right now, won't matter in 5 years. I want to tell them all the things that are special about them. I want to tell them how being unique makes them more wonderful. I want to tell them that the boys who break their hearts will regret it later. I want to tell them that

Kim Kardashian is my idol for one reason - she rocks her big booty. I don't "quite" have a Kim Kardashian booty, but my mom and sister are both built straight up and down, they don't got no hips. And when I say they don't got no hips, I mean it... they don't got NO hips. My sister and I were at Goodwill trying on jeans last week, and I tried on one pair of jeans that fit just fine around my legs, but there ain't no way those jeans was fittin' around my hips. So I handed them to my little sister, and *whoosh* they slid right on. I had to notice that the jeans fit around her legs the same way they fit around mine, but they were almost loose around her waist. It was amazing to me how we could be built so differently. The opposite thing happened when we were trying on shirts. She would try on a shirt that fit her too tightly around the... uh, chest... and then she would hand it to me to try on. I would put the same shirt on, and all the sudden my... uh, chest... disappeared.

But I'm learning to love it. And this is why I love Kim Kardashian. Don't judge me. I know, Keeping up with the Kardashians leaves something to be desired, to say the least, but I love that Kim and Khloe aren't size 0's, and they're proud of it! I know I'm still thin, I'm not fat by any means, and I know it might sound silly to some of you, but I honest to goodness have struggled with feeling fat for a long time. One thing that my new-found womanly figure has helped? More and more people believe me when I say I'm old enough to drive! I can't tell you how many times I get people asking me when I graduate high school instead of when I graduate college. Oh well, I'll look good when I'm 50, right?

Well, I'll quit my babbling. Go be super, and don't hide behind your Clark Kent glasses!

Till next time, gentle readers, stay awesome. :)

Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing

Right now, at this very moment, I am getting chills from a beautiful rendition of Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing. Have you ever heard the version that's in Reflections of Christ? I think it may be my favorite. The version I'm listening to right now is by two missionaries, one on the piano, and one singing, and they're doing the version from Reflections of Christ! He sings so passionately, it's so beautiful! Now, everything sounds better in a studio, but I think they sound pretty spectacular on this recording, so just imagine what chills they must have been giving everyone live. I can only imagine the spirit that was there!

Since this is my 100th post (finally!) I thought at first that it might be a good idea to do something special... but... I changed my mind. I have so many things on my mind that I would rather just blog what's on my mind. For those of you who don't know, I recently packed up and moved to California, the sweet, sweet land of California! Needless to say, the weather is heavenly, the gas prices and every other prices, not so much. Thankfully, the good outweighs the bad. I love my ward, I love living with my family, I love that there are dances every weekend, I love that it's October and it's still in the 80's, I love that there is always something to do, I love that all the members of the church hang out together, but most of all, I love that I know this is where the Lord wants me to be. That knowledge alone makes living here so exciting. I can't wait to see what happens next!

Faith is a funny thing, isn't it? It requires a lot of action. When I got the answer to move here, I definitely knew the Lord was telling me, and He was telling me to move NOW. Now, usually, when an answer comes that distinctly, and that strongly, there is good reason for it. My sweet, adopted grandma pulled out this talk when I told her that I was moving 8 1/2 hours away. She pointed out that, as Elder Bednar points out, revelation is usually received line upon line, like a light switch dimmer. At first you can see nothing, then the next second, you can start the make out objects, but there are no details, but slowly, as the switch is turned onto its' full power, you can eventually see the whole picture. Occasionally, though, the Lord will give us revelation like turning on a light switch in a pitch black room. Sometimes it has to do with our safety, other times it has to do with someone else's safety, sometimes it means it's just important, and still other times the Lord wants to know that we will do what He commands. Regardless the reason, it's important to follow whatever the Lord tells you to do exactly when He tells you to do it.

And I couldn't be happier that I did. That's not to say that leaving Utah wasn't extremely and painfully hard, because it was. There are so many wonderful people, so many family members, so many people who I feel are as close as family members, that I left. Thankfully, they've been nothing but supportive. I can't honestly say why exactly the Lord wanted me to come here, but that's not really the point. The Lord has an infinitely better plan for me than I could ever make for myself. That much I do know. :)

But life is hard. When is life not hard? If your life isn't hard, you might want to start worrying. My dad gave me some great counsel recently - "Life is only going to get harder."

At the time that was exactly the OPPOSITE of what I wanted to hear, but I'm actually really glad he said it, and it couldn't be truer! Amidst one trial or another, the biggest thing is just wishing it to be over, finding a way to sidestep it, begging for time to fast forward. And then, once that trial is behind me, I realize that it has now become one of the greatest and most defining moments in my life. That's not to say I would ever wish to relive them, nor do I wish them on anyone else, but I definitely would never want to erase them. I'm grateful for every trial Heavenly Father has put in my path. I'm grateful for the woman it's made me today, and I know I would be nothing without Him. There are so many things I could never learn without Him guiding me every step of the way. What would we be without experiencing pain? Without knowing the bitter, how could we ever know the sweet? Without sadness, how could we know joy? So then, how is a trial not an incredible blessing that we should be thanking our Father in Heaven for?

Stephanie Nielson is one inspiring lady. She honestly makes me want to never complain about anything ever again. If you don't know who she is, check out her blog here, read up a bit, watch the videos on the right, and be inspired. It's bound to happen. I am in awe of this woman. An ordinary woman, with an ordinary, and wonderful life that suddenly got flipped upside down when she got in a near fatal plane accident that left 3rd and 4th degree burns on 80% of her body - including her face. It took months in the hospital to heal, and when her youngest child saw her for the first time after she had healed up enough, she turned away, scared. I can't imagine the heartbreak Stephanie must have felt! The thing she first saw that was still her own was her eyes - Heavenly Father had let her keep her eyes. Now THAT is a trial to overcome. But in one of her videos (it's on lds.org entitled My New Life) she says this is her new life, this is who she is now, and she is going to thank the Lord for every second of it, thank Him for sparing her life.

How often do we do that? How often do we thank the Lord, sincerely, for giving us our lives each and every day? Because we honestly owe Him that, and everything else. Our lives belong to Him, and since they do, shouldn't we be putting our entire lives into His capable hands? We're sent here to be like Him, and what better way to be like Him than to let Him show us how?

The gospel is true. The church is true. God is real, He lives, and so does Jesus Christ, who is my brother, He is your brother, and He loves you more than you understand. I love this gospel, I love this life, I'm grateful for every dysfunctional toe, every cold finger, every hair, every pound, every step on the treadmill, every blink, every thought, every movement, every feeling, every bite I can eat, every breath I can take, and not only am I grateful, I'm indebted. Isn't it remarkable that as thick as we are as mortals, God still grants all these wonderful, beautiful blessings to us? We will forever be indebted to Him; we will never be able to repay him.

<3

The latest and greatest in my little ol' life

Well folks, I know it's been a long time since I posted, and, let's be honest here, SO MUCH has happened.

First of all, I no longer reside in the state of Utah. I literally packed up and scooted and cabooted out of there exactly one week ago today. Yes, it was sudden, even for me! I wasn't planning on high-tailing it out of there at all to begin with, but when the spirit prompts you (or more like spells it out for you in caps lock) I think you would be wise to follow that prompting! So I did! I remember exactly when it happened and exactly how it happened. I was sitting in my room having my prayers after reading my scriptures, right about the hit the sack, when BAM it hit me like a bag of bricks - I needed to move to California with my family, and I needed to move asap.

My first thoughts? Sheer and utter excitement. Seriously! When I get promptings like that, totally undeniable, and completely clear, almost surprising, I get so excited, because I know that it must be extremely important if the Lord thinks it's important enough to tell me flat out instead of letting me figure it out. I knew it was really important that I be here, and everyone knows how much I adore California with all of my heart, so needless to say I was sooo excited.

Even though I was giddy like a schoolgirl about moving, it was also a really sad thing. I had a fantastic job back in Utah that I adored - I seriously could not have asked for a better job, and I think it deserves a post all to itself (which it will get), I had so many great friends, and great friends coming home, I even left my brother back in Utah. What does that song say - sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same? Something like that. In this case it was true. The more I prepared to move, the harder it got.

I told my nanny fam that I was moving to California, and that I was leaving in 2 weeks. I think a few tears leaked out of that conversation. I went home, started packing all my stuff (which, luckily, wasn't too hard, considering most of it was in boxes anyway... I hadn't really unpacked after 6 months of being home... don't judge me), started packing all of the stuff that my mom and sister needed, and patiently waited (or impatiently) until Friday, September 1st, to arrive, then I could let the journey begin! Now, I want to clarify something really fast. I made this trip in the middle of the night, by myself, with no air conditioning. Twice. In one week.

I can see you staring at your screen, dumbstruck as to why in the world I would torture myself so. 9 hours of murderous heat, exhaustion and sleepiness taking over your brain, with nothing but Larabars, Monsters, and Carl's Jr. to keep me company? Well, let me just fill you in. Pick your jaw up, you're drooling.

The first time I made the trip was exactly one week and one day before I made the trip a week ago. So really, I made the first trip exactly two weeks and one day ago. It seems like so much longer than that!

Do you all remember my bimmer? My sweet, little, tank of a car? He's black and his name is Antoine. Yes, that one. Oh how I love him. That car has served me so well for about a year. However, a year ago, I had a boyfriend who changed the battery in my car, because, as everyone knows, I'm not very car savvy, tech savvy, or sports savvy. In this case, I needed to be car savvy, so I did my best impression, but to no avail. Luckily this boyfriend of mine offered to change it for me. Unfortunately, my bimmer outsmarted him, and he ended up frying my alternator. He replaced it and everything, but poor Antoine has never been the same since. In fact, he sat idle all winter because he refused to open, and then he refused to start. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, he just sat there. He started up again in the spring, but sometimes he would just decide not to start.

Well ya know what, Antoine, I'm not going to put up with your attitude. I thought we were friends, but maybe it's time for me to get a new mode of transportation. Since horses were out of the question, I figured I should buy another car. And this time, I bought a Honda. Sadly, with no air conditioning, but everything else about it is pretty fantastic. It's 6 years newer than dear old Antoine, making it a '96, and drives like a dream. It even has a radio! I just love it. It has no name yet; I need to get to know it first. All in good time.

So the first trip was to bring Antoine down, and the second trip was to bring me, my new car, and all my stuff down. The good news is that both Antoine, my new car, my stuff, and myself made it in one piece! No real problems to speak of. The bad news is that I have had 2 1/2 monsters in the past 2 weeks. Somehow I think it's better that I stayed awake though.

I am still so unsure of what is going to happen now that I'm in California. I had a plan for life in Utah, and I was doing everything I could to make it happen, but there were plenty of bits of that plan that just weren't working out. I really wanted to move into an apartment with my bestie best best, but no matter what we did, everything just fell through and went all crummy! Finally I just decided that I would live at the house I nanny at instead of moving into an apartment, so I prayed about that, and definitely felt like that was the right thing to do, and she stayed for an extra couple weeks with her family in the midwest before she found an apartment in Provo. Things definitely worked out for us differently than we wanted at first, but it worked out the way it was supposed to. Had I moved into an apartment in Provo, and still gotten the answer to move to California, it would have been a whole lot messier trying to move. I'm so grateful for the way the Lord works in my life!

Now that I'm here, I'm on the hunt for a job, but thankfully, that's all falling into place quite nicely. More than anything, I love what is here: the ward is fantastic, I love being with my family, I love being with my best sister friend, I love being with my parents, I love being with my aunt and uncle and her kids (the same kids I nannied a couple summers ago), I love being close to other family members, I love the weather, I love running in this weather, I love everything about it, and I couldn't be happier!! What an adventure awaits me, I can feel it!!

Cheers, readers, cheers <3

Love and Charity

I've been thinking a lot about love this morning. What is love? Is there just one definition of love? How do you express your love for people around you? I watched this Mormon message this morning:

I know this video is specifically about couples expressing their love for one another, but I feel like a lot of what is said in this video can apply to families in general. The Lord sent us to our family for a reason. He sent us to a specific family to help strengthen where we are weak, He sent us there to help strengthen other members of our family. Family loves you like nobody else will. They understand you like no one else will. And how do we convey that? All too often we lose our tempers with them. We take out our frustrations on those who are closest to us. We distance ourselves from them. We turn to outside sources for love instead of turning to what is right in front of us - our family. Aside from our Heavenly Father and our brother, Jesus Christ, there is no one on this earth that loves you more than your family does. Whether that be your parents and your siblings, a spouse, or all of the above, there is no one who will stick by your side, regardless of what you've done, there is no one who will ever love you more than your family will.

But all too often, we let other things get in the way of our family. This is Satan's plan. Satan wants nothing more than to rip the family apart, because he knows that in these times, if the family is solid, then he has no power in bringing you down. It breaks my heart to see families fall apart over and over in these last days.

I love how this video talks about eternal marriage. The couple said that they promised the Lord that they would do everything to make their marriage an eternal marriage. Just because you get married in the temple doesn't mean you get a free ride to the celestial kingdom with your spouse and family. You work at it. You have to keep your covenants. Being a family in the eternities means that you have to be a family now.

I am so grateful for my parents. I seriously have the most incredible parents in the world. They are so strong, and have been through so much together, and even though I watch them struggle through their share of trials, I watch them put the Lord first and rely on the atonement through all of our hardships. They've been there for me when I needed them most, time and time again. I watch them express their love for each other in little ways and think how blessed I am to have that example in my life. They aren't perfect, but who is in this life? 

Another thing that has got me thinking is this article by Elder Bednar on Character. It really got me thinking about Christlike character, which really is charity and selfless love. Even though the Lord suffered through all things, He never once though of Himself, This article is amazing and really got me thinking just what is my true character? Am I honest? Am I selfless? Do I think of others first even when I'm hurting? I want more than anything to be like Christ, but if I can't be these things, then I'm never going to come close to becoming like Him.

How do you show your love for those that you love? Your family? Your friends? Or even just people that you care about? Are you Christlike in what you do? Do you think of them first, or do you expect them to do things for you? Think about what the Savior would do before you act, before you speak, before you think of anything else. Put Him first in all you do, even when you're hurting, and you will be blessed. We were sent here to become like Him. So start becoming.

<3

Do it, and do it now

Before coming to this earth, I'm sure we heard it all - all the trials we would face, all the hardships this mortality would bring, and you know what? We were excited about it. We couldn't wait to get down here and learn our little hearts out, become who our Heavenly Father wanted us to be, to struggle, to grow, to cry, to laugh, we were ready for it all.

And then we got here.

And now what do we do? Well, ok, it's not like we do this all the time, but we complain. We complain about what? Mortality? Yeah. Mortality. It hurts. It's hard. We don't understand things, and people don't understand us. And then there's this guy called Satan. And he just makes everything about 10 billion times worse. That's an approximation, don't quote me on it.


The truth is, life is hard, and it's only going to get harder. Satan doesn't want any of us to succeed, and he definitely doesn't want us to be happy in this life. In my own life, I see him trying to disrupt something every single day. Sometimes he succeeds, because sometimes it's something that I have no control over. Sometimes he attacks us through other people. Just like the Lord uses other people to bless our lives, sometimes Satan tries to get other people to make our lives worse. Sometimes Satan tries to confuse those same people that the Lord brought into our life for good. See how frustrating this life can be? And you know, it is confusing because we are mortals, and we are imperfect.

Sometimes it's hard to distinguish between spiritual promptings and our own thoughts. Sometimes it's hard to distinguish between the devil and the spirit. Sometimes, the thoughts are our own.

These things are true, but this is the part that matters most - your time with your Father in Heaven to sort those thoughts and feelings out. Regardless of where those thoughts and feelings come from, it's the most important thing to figure out what Heavenly Father wants us to do with them, and where they really came from. That's one reason we should constantly be praying, and one of the reasons we are asked to go to the temple so often.

I love the temple for so many reasons, but one of the main reasons is because I know I can go in there and Satan has no influence on the feelings, promptings and impressions that I get there, so I know, without a doubt, that whatever I feel there is the spirit speaking to me.

I guess I'm writing this more for myself than for anyone else, but it's so easy to lose hope. As mortals, we want things now; we want to be happy right now, and we think we know how to do that best, but the truth is, we don't. Heavenly Father does.

His will for us is often not what we want for us. Sometimes, we have it set in our minds to do things one way, but He wants us to do it another way. We want to do something five years down the road, but He wants us to do it in five months. We want to go here, but He wants us to go there. It's so important to listen to the spirit and do what it tells you when it tells you to. From personal experience, I can tell you that when you ask the Lord so many times if you can do something your way, even when He's already told you to do it another way, there comes a time when He will stop telling you to do it His way, and He always lets you choose, but then you end up suffering the consequences. I'm sure Joseph Smith would tell you the same thing. Remember those lost pages? Yeah, I thought you might.

Yes, life is hard, but life is wonderful. Do what the Lord wants you to do, and do it now, and follow the inspiration you get exactly when you get it - don't wait!

Till next time, readers <3 :)

Three Little Happies

Well folks, remember that other "Happies" post that I posted?? Well, I have three more little happies for you today!

At this moment in time, I am currently sitting on my double bed on the floor of my four year old cousin's room, in Corona, California, with two fans blowing on me, my hair up in a bun, retainers in my mouth, and eyecovers on my forehead. This past week has been spent either lounging beside or in the pool, running on the treadmill, and actually really missing Utah, and what's waiting there for me when I get back! But, I am very excited to be here, because my oldest cousin, Kristen, is getting married on Saturday in the LA temple! I couldn't be more happy for her! She and her fiance are so in love, and it's so beautiful to see.

I mention this only because it has everything to do with my first happy. Today I was at my Grandy and Papa's house, and while using their hallway bathroom, I noticed a glasses case sitting on the back of the toilet. Since I'm about to go buy myself some new sweet specs, I've been trying on different types of glasses to see which style and color I like myself best in, and so when I saw this glasses case, I naturally assumed it was my cousin Kristen's. So I opened up the case, expecting to find her glasses in there, hoping that I could try them on lickity split, but instead of finding her glasses, I found a LOVE NOTE! Just a short and sweet love note. It made me smile the rest of the day. The note was written on a white piece of paper that had been ripped off of a bigger piece of paper and was about the size of my thumb. The note read: "I love you most - Johnny"

Is that not the sweetest thing you've heard all day?! Oh my. Who wouldn't love to get a love note like that? Seriously?! Ladies and gentleman, can I just say that this Johnny totally knows what he's doing? It's not about the big ginormous things that you do, it's the small and simple little ways that you let people know that you love them.

So that's my first happy. More like my first ultra happy.

My second happy is this.

I got a kiss from cousin's baby today. He's 1 1/2. He's gorgeous. And I love him.

When he was teeny tiny, he LOVED me, and then the next time I saw him, he was kind of scared of me, so I was really scared that he wouldn't be my buddy anymore. But this time, I played with him for about an hour - he even shared his toys with me, and sat on my lap of his own accord. Oh how I love that little boy!! When it was time to leave, I gave everyone my hugs and said my goodbyes, and then I went over to Ryan, my cousin's baby, and told him I was leaving, and asked him for a kiss (not thinking he would actually give me one) and he puckered his little lips and gave me a kiss! It was so sweet! Then five minutes later, he did it again!

Now, happy number 3.

My favorite time of the night came. 9:30 to 10:30. And that was definitely VERY happy :)

So there, my dear readers, are my three happies.

Do something happy today :) cheers.

Happy

Can I just say that I am one incredibly blessed individual? I don't even know how it happened, but I am so incredibly happy. :)

Never been like this before

I just want to say that the other day I experienced something that I'm not totally sure that I've ever felt before. I almost hesitate to say what it is, because it could come off sounding totally snobbish and stuck up, and I am neither of those things. I just... jeesh! I really have no words right now people. And you know what happens what that happens? Well... neither do I, but this time, I wrote a song, and it was so much fun! Maybe if I get brave, I'll have someone record me singing it and I'll put it on here for the world to see (eek!).
In other news, I, Makenna K. Donaldson rode a full size street cruiser yesterday all by myself. Ok, that part is a lie. I had help. But let's not detract from the moment, here.
And yet again, in other news, life is absolutely wonderful!! So wonderful, that I channel this little girl... this is my new mantra!!

I can do anything good! <3 

this is for you, my dear readers :)

Good things come to those who wait

Patience.

When I was in Young Women's, one of the values in Personal Progress (Divine Nature, perhaps?) had a requirement that was described basically like this: pick a trait you would like to acquire, and for a month, pray and fast and work to acquire that attribute. At the time, my little sister and I would get in some stodgy ol' tiffs. To this day, I probably don't even remember what they were about. I would probably get upset that she would use something of mine without asking me, and then I would probably get upset that she wanted to be just like me, and she would probably get upset that I would borrow her hair stuff without asking, and she'd probably be upset if I walked into her room. I don't even know. We were probably just upset at the other one because we thought the other one was upset. Good grief. My poor mother...

Long story short: what attribute did I pick?

Patience. I knew I was impatient with my little sissy. Did I ever.

And now what do I do for a living?

Nanny someone else's children. Aka: patience.

Although this job, at times, can be extremely difficult and definitely test my patience, it always makes me so grateful for the sweet little boys that I am blessed to share my life with, and the rest of the family, who all happen to be extremely incredible individuals as well! I don't look at this job as "work" anymore; it's become a part of my life, and I love it. I come home and talk to my mom about diapers, and runny noses, naptime, new words, how many times I had to change someone's clothes (including my own) who ate what, funny things the boys say, how good or naughty they were, and all the things a mom would probably talk about. I realized that my life has begun to revolve around these little boys, and you know what? I kinda like it. Sometimes I make fun of myself and say that I need a life outside of toddlers, because I catch myself snapping at people when I need their attention... so impolite, I know. I can't help it! But I still wouldn't have it any other way, because I adore what I do! Yes, it is hard, and yes, I get tired, and yes, I'm sometimes impatient, but I could not ask for a better job or a better family to work for. Heavenly Father has blessed and provided for me immensely!

Patience is such a hard thing to learn. It even requires patience to acquire patience, that's how tough it is! Wrap your little brains around that, munchkins! I had a seminary teacher and a bishop say to me once, "Heavenly Father, can't you give me some patience already?!"

Sometimes we all feel that way. At least I hope it's not just me. Unfortunately, patience doesn't work that way. Remember that story about the little kids that were given a marshmallow, and told that if they waited five minutes, they could have two marshmallows? One marshmallow is good, but two is better. Of course, it required patience to get the second marshmallow. That's how life is. You can have this, which is good, right now, but if you wait, you can have THIS, which is better - but all of it is on the Lord's time. That's the part where patience comes in. We, as mortals, don't understand exactly what the Lord's timetable is. To Him, our life on earth is a short period, but to us, well... it's a lifetime! And, as mortals, it, being all we know, feels like a seriously long time. Heck, a week feels like a long time!

But the Lord knows best, and He knows what we need, and when we need it. Live worthily, follow the spirit, do what feels right, and you will be led to the things that He has intended for you. It's not such a hard concept, but it requires you to lose yourself, forget about your time frame, trust God completely, and let Him guide you.

He knows what He's doing :) and that makes me happy.