Why I want to get married...

... but not the only reason.

I want to be able to open the fridge and eat any food I so desire without having to ask permission. I want to rearrange my cupboards any way I choose. I want complete control over where things go and what populates my fridge and cupboards. (And by complete control, I mean my husband can also have control, but he must be forewarned, if he buys it and puts it in the kitchen, I have every right to eat it unless he has a very good reason and specifically asks me not to. Like, if he bought candy for his home teachees or something. I will do the same for him, of course.)

Is it a bad sign if my parenthetical aside (that was not scripted) is bigger than the rest of my post?

Waterfalls

Waterfalls are, by far, my most favorite natural beauty. I could sit and stare at a waterfall for hours. Whenever I see one, no matter how much of a rush I am in, I must hesitate, if even for a moment, to revel in the beauty of it.

Today I left work really late. I had to exit underground and come up by the Relief Society building. As I entered Temple Square Plaza, I had the choice to go straight out to North Temple, or to take a slight detour through the small garden area. I had an overwhelming need to feel a bit closer to God, so I chose the garden area. I walked slowly through, enjoying the greenery and the smell of the flowers. I stood for awhile, gazing at the temple, remembering the good things that the gospel has brought into my life. I finally headed out towards North Temple and just before you cross the road there was one last reminder to me of God's love--a waterfall. It's just a small waterfall. Most would probably call it a fountain or something. It's just running water cascading down variously placed bricks. As the water hit each brick, it was sent of in some other direction. With the many different levels of bricks, the water made a gorgeous cascading fall to the pool below. The sight touched me. I stopped walking and just stared at the waterfall, soaking it in. I couldn't help but think, y'know, it's the opposition of the bricks that make this waterfall beautiful. What a lesson to learn--that opposition is what makes life beautiful. It really was what I needed to hear right then. I need to know that there's a reason for all this opposition in my life. I was somewhat comforted by this thought as I walked the rest of the way to the parking garage.

And then, my car wouldn't start. I had left the lights on all day. [sigh] Go figure*.

*Ok, ok. Even this disheartening event that made me laugh to keep from crying helped me see God's hand in my life. It took a series of small miracles to get my car started... and to get my hood latched, because, of course, it decided to choose this day to break. So I suppose there you go--case in point. Two oppositions that laid out a handful of miracles sent just for me. That, in and of itself, is beautiful.

As Dragon Lady's World Turns, episode 57

For the first time in my life today, I realized the benefit of poetry. It's a way of expressing your innermost thoughts and emotions in a public forum without anyone having any idea of what you're talking about. It's got to be the most advanced form of code there is. Seriously, that's how we should send top secret messages during war. Though... our side wouldn't be able to decode them either... Scratch that idea.

Tragically, I have shunned obscure poetry enough that I have no idea how to write in this code.

It's a pretty good day

I woke up this morning late. I read an article someone had sent me that really upset me. I was listening to my iTunes favorites list on random and a rather melancholy song was on. I stopped and actually thought, "Huh. Today isn't looking good thus far. I need to decide if today is going to be a good or bad day. Methinks... it should be a good day." It's amazing how that little decision can actually effect the way a day goes. Anyway, point is, the second I made this decision, the song changed. This new song, "Good Day" by Luce, is one of my favorite songs that I listen to whenever I need to make my day better. It's just happy and has a rather catchy tune.

Thank you, iTunes, for reading my mood.

Too much to ask?

Chillylint often tells me, "I can do hard things!" I have decided to adopt that motto as my own. I'm not sure if it's because I've adopted that motto that God has decided to test it out, or if I decided to adopt the motto because I was being asked to do hard things. Either way, I've been asked to do several hard things in the past week or so. Some I have succeeded. Others I have failed miserably. I just keep telling myself that I can do hard things. Maybe someday I'll believe it. Then maybe someday I'll succeed.

God asked me to do something very hard last week. The first time He indicated that I would have to do it, it took me completely off guard. I quite forcefully told Him that He was wrong and that I didn't want to do it--it didn't need to be done. May I suggest never telling God that He's wrong? However, like Martin Harris, He let me do what I wanted. Thankfully my situation wasn't as traumatic as Martin Harris'. I went on believing that what I wanted was going to happen, and what God wanted me to do would not be necessary. Days later, the situation changed. I was still convinced that what I wanted was right. But as I prayed that night, God very gently reminded me of what I needed to do. I still didn't want to do it, but now I saw the wisdom behind it. Instead of having to follow God's direction blindly, I now saw why. Perhaps I should work on that. God can see further than I can. I should have trusted Him the first time. Luckily, God gives second chances. It took me three days, but I finally did it. Because I can do hard things. As much as I hated what I was doing, I felt at peace--I knew it was right.

You'd think that very hard thing would be enough, wouldn't you? That's enough hardness to last me months. Yet, it continues. There are ups; there are downs; there is clarity; there is confusion.

I just want to see the end right now. Is that too much to ask?
I just want to know what I should do now. Is that too much to ask?
I just want to know why I had to do this hard thing--I have my speculations, but mainly, they just cater to what I want, which thus far hasn't necessarily been what God wants--would it really change now? Is that too much to ask?
I just want to stop doing stupid things. Is that too much to ask?
I just want to make everything all better--for all parties involved. Is that too much to ask?
I just want a magic wand. Is that too much to ask?
I just want to be perfect. Is that too much to ask?

In the words of a good friend of mine, If you don't really know what I'm talking about, then you really don't know. Please don't speculate. Please don't ask.

Curiosity... why cats have 9 lives

I was having a discussion with friends the other day and decided to put the question out in the open.

When we Caucasians imitate Asian people, we stretch out the edges of our eyelids to make our eyes squinty. When Asians imitate Caucasians, do they push those corners in or at least open their eyes wider?

I don't understand girls who strive to be working women

I don't want to work anymore. At least not full time. I'm tired of being at a desk all day. I'm tired of trying to solve problems all day long. I'm tired of finding more problems in an attempt to solve one. It doesn't give me the same thrill that it used to. Perhaps it's the hour it takes to get here and the other hour it takes to go home. Perhaps it's that I'm by myself and not surrounded by friends who I can laugh and joke with. Perhaps I'm just worn out. Perhaps it's because I haven't been getting enough sleep, so I'm too tired to deal with life. I would just quit and apply at BYU, because I'm fairly certain they'd still hire me. I mean, why not give up my night and weekend life? What better things do I have to do? [groan] Ok, that was just a ridiculous thought.

It's not that I have anything against working. It's simply that I'm against having it take up so much of my life. I would rather be perfecting my homemaking skills, so that someday, a handsome prince will come by and will be smitten with my cooking and wicker basket on the counter, and can't help but sweep me away to his castle on his white horse. And how can I perfect those skills if I only have a few free hours a day? Especially when those hours are spent trying to magnify my calling? [sigh]

If it weren't for the fact that I need insurance and money to pay off school and car debts, I'd totally find a part time job in Provo... at a bookstore or something... and enjoy living life.

Some things never cease to make me laugh

I attended Humble Master's reception long ago, and his cake topper was so perfect that I quite literally laughed out loud. He sent me the picture today, making me laugh yet again. He's really bad about updating his blog, so I decided to put it on mine. Because everyone should see it. And who doesn't need a good laugh?



Yes, yes, the groom is Superman. Don't you love the look on the bride's face? "[sigh] Again? Must you really save the world on our wedding day?" Now, if that weren't good enough, the bride is actually Buffy the Vampire Slayer repainted to be modest and in white. Veil and bouquet also added. Here's a close up...



I wonder if I could just as successfully incorporate Harry Potter into my some day wedding reception...

Why I should count my many blessings...

Well, the good news is, at least I looked cute

My boss asked me to bring some computers from our Orem office to SLC on Thursday. We were bouncing around from place to place for meetings, so I agreed to drive and bring them. As I got ready for work, I dropped my toothpaste lid down the sink drain, ne'er to be retrieved. Halfway to Orem, I realized I had left my glasses at home which would guarantee me a headache. At this point, I thought to myself, "Man, everything is pointing to a bad day, but I'm in such a good mood! No bad day for me!" I collected the computers and went on my merry way.

Please indulge me as I break out into song (changing a lyric or two):

I was driving along, minding my business,
When out of an orange-colored sky,
Crash! Bam! Alakazam!

It was rush hour, but going strong at a steady 45-50 mph. Apparently, at 12300 S. traffic bottlenecks and comes to a complete standstill. I did not know this. All I knew was that the car in front of me was suddenly too close and not going nearly fast enough. I slammed on my brakes, but the second I did, I knew it was too late. Sure enough, I hit the guy in front of me, who, in turn hit the guy in front of him, who hit the girl in front of him. The front two cars were stopped, the guy in front of me estimates he was at about 30 mph. By the amount of damage to my car, the cop estimated I was going about 15 mph faster than him, so we estimate I was going around 45 mph. My front bumper came off. My front end was smashed in enough that my antifreeze is now all over the freeway. My airbags deployed. The cover over my light in the back window popped off.

The whole time I was out talking to the other drivers, I was shaking, my chest hurt where the seatbelt had done its job, but otherwise I was fine. The nice guy in front of me gave me his jacket to help me stop shaking, even though it wasn't really all that cold. I got back in my car to find it filled with air-bag smoke, which was really gross, so I rolled down all my windows. When the cops showed up, they stopped traffic to push us all over to the right shoulder. (We had been in the fast lane, but not HOV lane.) Then they gave us all paperwork to fill out. At this point, I hit emotional breakdown point. When I finally had time to just sit, when my adrenaline wore off, when I was all by myself, I suddenly started crying and couldn't stop. At this point, I realized that I needed to call my boss to tell him that I'd be late for our meeting. I then realized that I had no one's phone numbers from work in my cell phone. Chillylint to the rescue, and I started making calls. May I just say that it's difficult to tell your boss that you'll be late for work while trying desperately not to cry? Yeah... it doesn't work. And that was just on his voicemail. Ugh. I'm such a girl. I also realized that I needed to call my mom, but I knew that if I did, I'd just start crying harder, and the cop kept coming by, and I wanted to stop crying. Though, perhaps it helped me in the end because the cop was really nice to me and only gave me a warning citation, so I didn't have to pay for anything. And he let me sit in his car after my car was towed until my ride got there.

While filling out my paperwork, I realized my insurance card was expired. I knew I still had insurance, just hadn't moved my newest card out yet. My paperwork required dates, so I called my insurance company to get the current dates. The main office must have let my agent know, who then called my mom to find out if I was ok after my "fender bender." My poor mother had no idea what he was talking about, since I had yet to call her. I'm sure that's not how any mother wants to hear that her baby girl has gotten into a car wreck. So she called me. Luckily, it was after my uncle had picked me up. Even more lucky, he had a box of tissues in his truck.

Within the next hour my neck, back, and left hip started to hurt, not to mention the raging headache that was growing. At least I'm smart and carry ibuprofen around with me. I slowly worked my way home. Quite literally. I started at the Church Office Building, made it halfway home to a luncheon, went a little further where I met my brother, who took me the rest of the way home.

I have the greatest friends ever. Within hours I had at least 8 people stop by to bring me get-well packages, to give blessings, to bring well-wishes, to just randomly stop by at the right moment, or, most importantly, to just give me a hug and hold me. I think that love really must have a healing power. I really do have the greatest friends. I'm also incredibly grateful for the power of the priesthood and for the worthy elders who are willing to use that power.

It's been decided that I'm a walking miracle. The simple fact that the airbag didn't do more damage than a small bump and scratch (and two broken nails) apparently is a miracle in and of itself. I could go on and on about how lucky I am and the miracles I've seen. The biggest of all is the rate at which I've been healing. Yes, I am still sore, and I have my moments/days that are worse than others. But really, I'm much better than I should be. And I count my blessings daily for this fact.

Now I just have to work on getting over my pride of being so dependent upon other people. I hate not having a car. But alas... I prefer this to being dead or or paralyzed or something.

PS - Pictures to come as soon as the ridiculous towing company known as Cottonwood towing stops being ridiculous and I actually get over my car to take pictures.

Randomness...

I was cleaning out my purse today. There was an AA battery in there. I have no idea how it got there. I have no recollection of even touching a battery recently. Perhaps someone has seen the scredriver man episode of Monk recently and is imitating it... trying to make me (and others) think I'm going crazy. Sadly, it wouldn't be hard to do.

A sentimental souvenier... priceless

So, some days, I ridiculously epitomize the title of 'girl.'





Back in June, whilst I was traversing abroad, I bought a ring in Bethlehem.











Yesterday, it shattered into fourths. And then we lost one piece of it.





Today I walked into my living room, and out of habit, started playing with my ring. Except... it wasn't there. And I was sad. See, even the broken ring looks sad.

Yes. I am a silly girl... sad over a ring that cost me a grand total of one dollar.