thankful.

january has been a month unusually full of difficult situations.  now, in the last week, i have realized the abundance of resources i've been blessed with throughout.  i think most of us (like me) have the tendency for complete obliviousness to the simple blessings of everyday life in the midst of an unwanted experience.  i'd like to overcome that tendency someday, to bring more grace and composure to the way i handle the situation when an unexpected color is thrown onto my canvas.  i'd like to be able to recognize the beauty of all the colors together more quickly.  in the words of nancy (one of the most influential women in my life), "you know you can eat this week, you have a place to go when it rains, you have clothes on your back, and now you have new experience, too!" because that's what this is all about: experiences.  after all, at the end of the month i find myself only thankful, in a simple way.

i am thankful for my bed and pillows, and especially for the rice pack that warms them up at night.
i am thankful that i have boots this week, so my feet don't freeze in the snow.
i am thankful for chocolate peanut butter balls.
i am thankful for thank you notes when they are truly sincere.
i am thankful (most of all) for my sisters, both related and not, who will cry with me, hold me when i need someone close, laugh at the smeared make-up on my face, make sure i eat well and sleep enough, and send me support from miles away.
i am thankful for toothpaste and soap.
i am thankful for sleepy time tea.
i am thankful (most of all) for a father and mother who know the importance of a hug and a seven hour drive.
i am thankful (most of all) for blessings and instruction.
i am thankful for puppies and cupcakes.
i am thankful.
and i am thankful that thankful is all i need to be.

winter: an overcome-able state of mind

The seasons have a funny way of wishing the northern hemisphere a happy new year.  January 1: new goals, new start, beginning of new trends, the horizon to days, weeks and months still undiscovered, unscathed, undamaged, and inviting... Also, beginning of the two bleakest months of the entire year: filled with overcast days full of slush, ice, snow, smog, frozen noses and ears, cold toes and fingers, and a complete absence of color.  Obviously, Mother Nature is attempting to crush the world's confidence.  This kind of cold is bearable... but only with Christmas lights!  As a substitute for the lack of festive decoration, I have been diligently seeking a consolation, a comfort, or a sunny-side to this season altogether lacking all warmth and life provided by the center of our solar system.  I need a reason to survive the season; I am on a mission to discover the life (if any) that was left when the sunshine deserted the town of Provo.  I will discover it, or I will move to the equator.

Logical, provable, and valid reasons for loving (or at least appreciating) those winter months following the festivities:

Fireplaces: How wonderful is it to curl up in front of the fireplace in a huge quilt with a wonderful book? Very wonderful. In fact, it almost rivals wearing flip-flops every day.  It especially counts as a plausible argument for winter when the fireplace smells like a fireplace natural does and is situated by a large, overstuffed, and comfortably worn-in chair.  Flaw: Unless I am willing to pay a tremendous fee for turning my roommate's bedroom into a furnace (and probably threatening a large amount of screaming girls at the same time), I will experience a drastic lack of fireplace this winter.

Hot Chocolate: Yum. That's about the first and last thing that I want to say on this topic.  Dark chocolate orange, milk chocolate mint, creamy chocolate with a tinge of hazelnut, or deep chocolate peppermint, which almost makes the air in my apartment taste like Christmas again.  There is not a stopping place when it comes to this divine gift.  As I have said more than once, chocolate is proof that God loves us.  Two weeks ago, this seemed like the perfect solution.  I think that chocolate orange quickly became the most popular in my mouth, although a straight dark chocolate rich enough to make you dizzy was a close second.  However, two weeks was two weeks too long.  When I was in my bed, completely sick to my stomach, with the second cup of hot chocolate from the last day of the second week still standing on my night table, I proclaimed the experiment a fail.  The amount of hot chocolate it takes to take away the winter blues is also enough to run you flat into bed for days.  Bad idea.  Also, it's more expensive to make "healthy" hot chocolate than I at first realized. Sorry, delicious comfort drink, my sugar tolerance level AND my pocket book say "No."

Snow: I would think this one is rather self explanatory.  It snowed today - a light sprinkling of itsy-bisty flakes flying around while I was walking to class.  I loved the first snow! It was magical, breath-taking, peaceful, and all those other cliche things that snow is. I loved every bit of it.  I don't actually mind the snow, I've come to realize.  It's the innate fact that it simply must be accompanied by bitter cold, and more often than not, bitter wind, that I am just not fond of.  Snow: not a bad thing at all, but simply not good enough to make up for the bleakness and blahness of January 20th.

New Year's Resolutions: No. I am a goal-setting, list-making, self-improvement-meeting maniac.  But how much more optimistic are a set of new goals and exciting endeavors if you announce them to a drizzling sky?  They are not.  I have quickly discovered that this year's set of resolutions is proving much more difficult to keep than ever before simply because of my atmosphere.  The sun motivates me, encourages me, and strengthens my will to keep going, try again, do better, do better! The desertion of that energy source leaves my self motivation rather raw.  Unfortunately, the weather has effected this element instead of this element effecting my outlook on the weather.  But persevere I will, as this lengthy post proves, I am determined to find a reason to at least like the winters in Provo.

I am now searching for a new object, state of existence, or thought process that will improve upon the first two months of the new year, or even take my mind away from their faults.  I am taking suggestions!  At the moment, I am simply looking forward to the fact that there is one more single-day-long break from classes approaching quickly.  And once it is gone, the end of seemingly endless grey skies might, just might be in sight.

to make

over the summer, i created a habit of continual creative outlet; i was always painting walls and shelves, gluing fabric and beads, and ripping magazine photos for inspiration.  sadly (but expectedly), after the move the busy-level kicked up too many notches and the creative juices were squished into the back of my mind to slowly start to leak away.  however, last night i made a resolution: no matter how busy i become, i simply cannot ignore the pesky little pop-up window on the screen of my mind encouraging me to "make, make, make..." no matter how many times i click the "X" button, the pop up returns. so today, i am fighting back against the busy-ness, giving in the tempting pop-up window, and i am going to make!  today was jewelry mostly, accompanied by some music and some food (the one thing that i have absolutely continued to make time to make).
so, from the past and the present:

the jessica tree

my deco-mirror, absolutely more exciting in person.

an image can never do a mirror justice.

fabric necklaces, definitely more to come of these.

i'm just warming up.

as cute as a button earrings

after today, i would like to re-think my life, drop out of school, and simply spend all of my time making.  however, since making a difference is more important than making food and jewelry, i will have to continue looking forward toward my saturdays - my make-days.

a cinderella moment

crunching on an apple for lunch, my feet swung from side to side as they dangled from the wall, a foot above the busy pavement.  in between class, the sidewalks are crowded with hurrying, distracted students, and i sat only a few feet back from the main walkway.  as i was enthusiastically swinging my legs, my colorful snake-skin-esk right shoe jumped off my foot and landed two feet in front of me - not quite in the student traffic line. my legs stopped swinging.  i groaned. i was enjoying a particularly crisp gala apple  and an odwalla superfood which was balanced in my lap.  deciding whether to move my lunch, jump off the wall, replace my shoe, and climb back atop the wall or wait for another fifteen minutes to retrieve my lost possession as i walked to my next class, i stared lazily at the rebellious object - willing it to walk back to me and climb onto my foot itself.   as i stared with pursed lips, inwardly debating, a pair of black dress shoes, partially covered with men's dress slacks, jogged to stop in front of my forlorn little shoe.  startled, i looked up to see a well-dressed young man (talking business on his cell phone) stoop down and snatch up the shoe.  walking a pace forward and bending close to the pavement again, he gently took the back of my ankle with his free hand and guided my foot back into the small, humbled shoe.  dropping his hand from my ankle, he swiftly stood, still responding to the conversation in which he hadn't missed a beat, and began pacing away.  still slightly stunned, i called after him, "Thank you!"  without turning his head or body, he raised a hand - the only acknowledgement thus far of his surprisingly thoughtful deed.  smiling and chuckling, i looked down at my now-submissive right shoe.  if only there was a kind, charming gentleman to take care of every wayward shoe in this world, every woman would be as happy as Cinderellla, and have as many shoes, too.  so, thank you, mr. charming man, for your thoughtfulness, regardless of how preoccupied you were.

celebrations of autumn

this september brought the autumn equinox, ushering out the summer heat of st. george (which never quite hit provo).  nevertheless, there was still a celebration, complete with autumn soup, pumpkin biscuits with orange honey-butter, and an impressive line up of deluxe caramel apples.  this year, things were a little more spread out than usual.  sadly, dinner and dessert were separated from tuesday to friday (the plus side being an entire week of soup and celebrations!).  dessert night started out with wrappers and bags...

...and ended with a chocolate coated sugar rush.

in st. george, we're used to several more weeks of short-sleeved, air-conditioned weather.  in the north, however, mother nature apparently values punctuality.  a week after our celebrations came to a close, the snow blew across the mountains (luckily, not any lower than the tops of our heads).  flip-flops were put on the top shelf and sweaters came out of the boxes.  fortunately, we still had autumn soup left-overs to warm us after the shock the first day of the cold front provided.

to do: wednesday september 16th

• Homework
• Art History
• Preliminary proposal started & finished
• read chapter 20
• read online excerpt
• start chapter 21, half by Monday
• Family Processes
• read chapter 4
• record online notes, 2 presentations
• assignment #3, started & finished
• review readings: chapters 1-2
• Book of Mormon
• Book of Mormon chapters 7-18
• Manual chapters 3-6
• Journals, each chapter
• Study guide, up to chapter 18
• Sewing
• open lab time
• finish sample 1
• half sample 2
• readings
• marking packet
• grain packet
• basics packet, second half
• book chapter 3
• Intro to SFL
• Paper, start & finish
• work on MYMAP, finish half
• Ballroom
• Rumba steps memorized
• Cleaning
• Kitchen
• floors
• counter/stove
• Room
• sheets washed
• laundry finished
• fall clothes out of boxes
• bed made
• Bathroom
• everything...
• Misc.
• Budget
• Meal planning
• Shopping list
• Yoga
• Make dinner

not all chocolate is created equal

I had a little thought. There are many different qualities of chocolate. The better the quality, the better the taste, the better the satisfaction. For the sake of a metaphor, I want to say a few things about a Hershey's chocolate bar, and compare it to the ideal piece of chocolate. An old, rather stale bar of Hershey's chocolate crunches around in your mouth with a very limited amount of pleasure. Only after long periods of coco derivation does this kind of chocolate satisfy any kind of craving. Now imagine the ideal square of chocolate, soft enough that it starts to melt in your hand before it ever touches your lips. Dark, rich, and creamy enough it demands complete attention until every last little drip is licked off every single finger.


I had a very large, rather overwhelming realization yesterday. Like a slap in the face that takes the wind out of you, I realized how much I don't know. It was as if someone had screamed an inch away from my face, "WAKE UP, DUMMY! YOU HAVE TO LEARN!" Instead of being frightened and intimidated (the emotions I would expect to accompany such a reality check), I was absolutely exhilarated, almost like the feeling you get at the moment the rollarcoaster starts the decent of the first massive hill. It took my breath away, that way. Before now, I have only ridden the small rollarcoasters, the ones with no loops, only an occasional, very short whooshing drop. This week, I sat down in the seat of The Big Rollarcoaster, and I have realized that I love rollarcoasters. I crave them, in fact. I have been eating Hershey's chocolate until now, and this week I tasted quality chocolate. I have only taken the first, small testing nibble of the darkest, most luxurious chocolate bar on Earth, only ridden to the top of the first big hill. This is just the beginning.

lines, lines, lines...

August 31. In Line at the Bookstore
A very large, very loud, very awkward boy wearing too much cologne, directing his comments at everyone else in line and at the same time absolutely no one at all: "Man! It's hot in here! What the heck was I thinking coming to the bookstore on the first day of classes, and at LUNCH TOO... hey, are you guys together? (said to the couple in front of him in line who were quite obviously together) I mean, like you'll go up to the thingy together?"
Man in relationship (attempting to keep the exchange as short and painless as possible): "...um..yeah."
Large, loud, awkward boy: "GREAT!... TWOFUR! haha...only FOUR people in front of me now! haha.."

I have absolutely no idea what "twofur" means. He might have started to say, "two for one" with his decidedly Utahn accent and half way through yelling the phrase as loud as his large lungs would let him realized that everyone was staring at him as though they had just seen him vomit, or he could have made up the phrase "twofur" just for the occasion. Perhaps he took pride in announcing his new invention to the entirety of all three levels of the bookstore. I will never know.

beautiful provo

Although Provo has a annoying lack of parking, it makes up for the short-coming by containing some of the most charming and delicious old houses I have ever laid eyes on - for the viewing pleasure of all those who use only their shoes to get to campus. Running through the streets this morning, I was completely out of breath. I was out of breath because 1) I am out of breath 90% of the time I am running, and 2) because I couldn't stop loving these beautiful houses. I'm sure that after the 40th time I exclaimed, "Oh! Look at that one! I love the trees and the grass and the ivy and the red door and the peeling paint!" the houses themselves were tired of being praised. I simply can't get enough of them! This fabulous house was my favorite this morning. I am still in love it. The picture doesn't come close to how enchanting it is in person, especially in the early morning.

The houses aren't all that make Provo beautiful. I walked out of my apartment this morning and the first thing I saw was the sun, barely coming over the towering mountains. The sky this morning was hazy; the entire city was covered in mist or smoke, making the mountains look painted in watercolors - so close to the color of the sky they were barely there at all. Several of the streets were lined with giant trees symmetrically placed on both sides, so you are almost always in the shade. Green is everywhere. Bushes, grass, trees, vines and flowers grow so close together it's hard to tell what's what. I know the only reason the green shocks me every time I step outside is because I come from a place where the dominant colors are brown and red: dirt and mountains. Red mountains, not green ones. So there it is, I am now in the opposite of what I have been in my entire life. I have moved from Red to Green.

week one in number 205

I am a college student - one of many studying to make a way for myself in the world and to make the world I live in a better place. I live on the middle level of a medium sized, moderately priced apartment building situated across the street from a large, gaudy complex with frills and several snug student houses with broken shutters. My building doesn't have frills or broken shutters, although it does have a quite convenient underground parking garage. This is a very ordinary building in this small city (which really feels more like a.. New York sized city or Hong Kong sized city this week).
But I am not ordinary.
I live in Number 205 with a girl from California who is at the moment, watching the new Hannah Montana movie. She has recently vowed herself off the Mexican food from Los Hermanos, the restaurant at which she waits tables, for forty days. She would like our entire apartment to share one large, combined wardrobe, and does not want me to make vegan cupcakes. Her name is Beth. I also live with a Chinese girl who is said to be brilliant. She is studying chemistry and working toward a Doctorate degree. I heard all of this from Beth - who lived with her a week alone before I moved in. Her name is Na Li, and I have only seen her long enough for her to introduce herself. She is pleasant and calm, and while she is at home, stays mainly in her room. And, last the best of all the game, I live with my sister, Natalie, who is a kindred spirit (as Anne of Green Gables would say). We make green smoothies, share clothes, jewelry, advice, and music, and we keep each other sane.
Today is the brink. The last evening before school dominates my existence. I'm excited. I'm nervous. I might get lost. And I miss my kitties.