Thursday, December 29, 2011

Christmas post on it's way

Ok guys I know I am a terrible blogger for not having my Christmas special up yet but trust me when I say that my Christmas was fantastic and worthy of a magnificent post! I will cover everything from our sweet  little tree and paper fireplace, to our christmas party details, to the late night Christmas snuggles! I even borrowed an awesome camera to capture it all! In fact, I will be using said camera to capture New Years as well. So after the fireworks and resolutions have settled expect a brilliantly wonderful post from yours truly!

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Catastrophic Events of the Week : How NOT to Make Coconut Brittle

My entire body ached even though I haven't exercised in the last two weeks--welll besides all the walking back and forth between classes and the grocery store and whatnot ,thanks again bikethief-!-I seriously feel like I just went nine rounds of girl-boxing. Of course this is nothing more than I expected, just doing the rounds right? Oh Finals why must you make me so sick to my stomach?See the thing is that this semester I took serveral of my upper level communications classes and, while I loved every minute of them that meant turning in 8 page papers instead of taking an exam. I love writing don't get me wrong, but keep in mind here that I also write for the newspaper and that the professor I have for two classes happens to be a pretty strict grader. AKA I was up all night for much of this week trying to hit deadlines, and it doesn't help that I am a bit of a perfectionist about written assignments. Anyway Wedneday night I finished with one of the essays and my dear friend Michelle came over to borrow a Christmas card ( oh crap I still haven't sent those out) and found me proudly patting the top of the microwave. "What are you doing?" "MAKING COCONUT BRITTLE IN THE MICROWAVE!" I shouted excitedly. She looked over my shoulder and raised her eyebrows appraisingly , my smile faltered , that her communication was wordless did not diminish its effect. A few minutes later I opened the door cautiously ...something smelled funny. See below for what I saw. I figured, well if at first you don't suceed try try again right? Haha FAIL. We worked together this time, bending over the stove and trying to figure out if the syrup had turned gold enough. Yeah it was gold enough ...immediately it started to go brown so we tried pouring in the baking soda as quick as we could and it puffed way way up! We were yelling and running around trying to pour it into the pan when it happened...I BURNED MICHELLE!!! I was trying to frantically scoop the puffyness out of the pan and some flicked right onto her finger. She looked at me with this sad desperate look and said in her Meeshy way of saying things "um...ow" and then "um ow ow ow ow ow" with this look in her eye that said "What do I do what do I do What do I do?" and I reacted on gut instinct. It was go-time. I grabbed her hand and ripped that sticky burning ooze right off. I turned the water on cool (not cold, because that would be too harsh of a temperature change) and ran her hand under it. It seemed like I had four arms flailing around because somehow I managed to turn the sink on and pull a bag of peas out of the freezer simultaneously. Long story short my fast reaction didn't seem to do much good, she ended up with a huge blister. She forgave me though...I think.
After that I gave on up brittle, and moved on to bigger and better things like writing essays and studying for exams. 12 noon on Friday finally rolled around and I was finished. I sat there for a good hour, numb, like I said finals are exhausting for no apparent reason. Now that it was all over I needed a good night's sleep, but alas fate decided against it. Justin didn't finish his last final until around 7:30 p.m. and it was torture waiting to find out how he did...things didn't go well. His professor hadn't told them about the two-hour time limit and , welll, Justin likes to take things slow when it comes to taking a test or picking out a can of refried beans. He didn't even make it to the last page. Needless to say he was pretty forlorn by the time he made it back to me and that was NOT a good thing. See at this point neither of us had gotten proper sleep in a while and to top it off , we were finally able to bring our borrowed Christmas tree home. I had been running around all day on half -empty and the thought of decorating that tree was the only thing that got me through it., my Christmas spirit was (IS!) in a state of fragility, I keep getting so nervous that Christmas can't exist without my family ...all of this to say that Justin coming home and effectively fire-hosing my teetering happiness was just about the last straw. Poor guy. I had tried cheering him up by smiling, telling him forget about grades it's Christmas, tickling him, and holding him close but he couldn't pull himself out of that dark cloud. I got really quiet, and, well, alright fine I was sulky. He took a walk and when he came back he gave me a hug and said sorry. I don't know if he was ready for what happened next -- I broke down crying in his arms, I can't quite explain what I was feeling except for that I wanted to have Christmas really mean something for us this year, I wanted to be a full functioning adult and throw a party and beautifully decorate a tree. I wanted to show people, especially Justin, that I was all grown up and creative and whatever else your supposed to be in this world. As I rested my cheek against his shoulder, however,  fighting down the sobs that kept rising higher and higher in my chest, I couldn't help but think I am just too little for this, too young , I just need someone else to do it all. I hated that I thought it, hated that all those judgemental people who tried to shove their opinions in my face might have been right, but there you  have it, the life of a young wife.

After I had had a good cry I told Justin to put his party clothes on, we both needed to forget ourselves and just have fun. We headed to Foodland, as we opened the door to Angel's shave ice I realized I had dropped my wallet. "Could things get any worse? " I thought. Laie isn't the best place to drop a wallet, though it's just a small town theivery seems to be pretty common-place...case-in-point, my friend Lacee's bike was stolen earlier that same day. In any case Justin and I figured we'd better turn around and retrace our tracks ( we were riding on his bike). Just as we were leaving the Foofland parking lot I saw a familiar looking, blue bit of duct tape. "Wait" my brain told me, the guy who had been walking just ahead grabbed a bike from behind a half wall and yes it was LACEE'S BIKE!!! I spoke unhesitatingly "DUDE, That's my friends BIKE!", my hand shot to my mouth in disbelief , I had said it so aggresively. The guy looked at me fearfully, "Oh really, I --uh---found it on the side of the road...do you like...want it?" "Um...Yeaaah." I said grabbing the handlebars. MENTAL FISTPUMP !! I was so excited to surprise her with the recovered bike. We had to ride past the suspected thief again and he shouted at us angrily, but I barely heard him as I wooshed by. It felt like the wind was echoing my jubilation. We even found my wallet on the way back. What a week!!!! Now I am off to write two article that may or may not be appearing in the LDS Church News-- JAZZED!

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Christmas Invites/Cards: I am so excited!

Just watched the Men's basketball team and experienced a rush of adrenaline when we got back to the apartment. Twiddled my thumbs on pinterest for a while until I came across this http://lisasayswhybensaysyup.blogspot.com/2011/04/recycling-toilet-paper-rolls.html, which led me to the realization that the "brown package" paper I was looking for was sitting there waiting for me in my teeny tiny bathroom. I couldn't resist putting together a prototype for our Christmas Eve party, and have now decided to make the necessary modifications to turn this baby into the cutest/cheapest Christmas card ever! I downloaded and printed the " North Pole Tracking and Delivery" tag from here : http://www.brooklynlimestone.com/2011/11/naughty-or-nice-christmas-gift-tag.html#.Tt40ilYgYfU
and came up with the poem myself :) In full it reads:
                                  "With Christmas near the list is here and after checking twice
                                   The Royer's have decided that they think you're rather nice
                                   So come on over Christmas Eve at 6 p.m. and then,
                          We all can welcome Santa Clause and the Babe from Bethlehem"
I'll post the final versions when I get them finished but I couldn't help giving you a sneak peek. I am planning on tweaking the poem to fit as our family Christmas card. As pictured I attached tags to the bow which ask the party-comers to bring a scripture or memory to share and cookies for Santa. Is it too presumptuous for the hostess to ask for that much personal investment? Let me know what you think in your comments.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

How To: Bridal Shower Invites and Decorations

Some of the stuff I came up with for Katie's shower:

Invites:


          Since I didn't have a lot of time or money, I decided to put my wrapping paper scraps to use. I simply cut invite-sized rectangles out of wrapping paper, cut snowflake-esque designs from white printer paper( I left straight edges in some places so it would look more invitation-y), pasted them on and hand-wrote the information in black ink.


Decorations:

       Lacee was able to score some colored paper from the Education Department, so we put it to good use. The banner is pretty self explanatory. To make the white snowflakes we folded the paper in fourths, pinched the folded corner ( bottom left), rounded ( see picture below) it , then made random two-cut shapes along the edges. Lacee learned to make the purple one on YouTube. Our martinelli bottles from Thanksgiving have become stand-bys for all my decorating needs, and I brought them to Katie's to use as centerpieces. Pictures of all these decorations in action to come.



We hung the snowflakes up with tape and dental floss...desperate times desperate measures.





Glued on either end and wrapped around the bottle to cover the "Martinelli's" sticker

I embellished my homemade bottle cover with little mini snowflakes. This is what I meant by "rounded".In this picture the folded corner is at the top.

   I know they are simplistic but they looked super cute when we were all done decorating. Like I said stay posted for the action shots!

Happy Holidays

Amidst the terrors of upcoming finals it seems I have been neglecting my blogging duties, Thanksgiving's already two weeks old and Christmas is right around the corner.Though I am , admittedly, in the throes of school-overload, I want you to know that it has absolutely NOT put a damper on my holiday mood. Which the new married me is discovering means being terribly CRAFTY!!!

Back in the day when I was not married ie; 7 months ago, my Mom was quite the party animal. Whether it was a birthday, Christmas, Valentine's, End-of-School, Make-Over, or Just-Because-We-Felt-Like-It party my Mom always threw an excellent one. I used to chalk it up to our awesome house and video games, but I have realized that this party thing-- it's a real talent, a knack if you will, which requires real dedication...I'm talking bordering on obsessive. I always used to chuckle when my Mom was up late the night before a party, carefully setting out the food in just the way she planned to have it the next day.Then Thanksgiving happened.

See Thanksgiving was coming and I figured that since both last year and my freshman year people had hosted me, that it was time to return the favor. I sent out invites ( which I designed on Adobe Illustator with the help of my friend Micheal Gulden) and started planning. That's when I realized that this knack, this talent...IT'S A GENE!!! No really guys it's in my BLOOD!!!!!!! I had so many ideas, so many plans. My mind jumped dizzingly from one to the other as I twirled from project to project taking pictures, drawing up ideas.Of course it was my first party (ever ever as I told Justin), so it probably won't seem like a big deal from the pictures, but man was I in love with the whole process. I loved the crafts the projects the doodads.(pictured below)I even loved making the turkey(pictured below). In the middle of it I even got to go to a grown-up Stampin-up party thing and trade Christmas cards.I got so into planning that I springboarded right into helping put my dear friend Katie's bridal shower together ( not my first time planning one of those as I am sure you could have guessed :)) Long story short I am sooooo doing a Christmas party, I'm thinking a soup buffet, or maybe Christmas Karaoke, or maybe even... well anyway. Please people, don't think that this is me forcing myself into the oddly shaped cookie cutter that is the culturally-ideal molly mormon.I am having fun and this is totally me!!!!!

In other news we had a truly Christmas-a-riffic weekend. We and our friends Lacee and Matt borrowed their friends' car and we drove down to Pearlridge mall. There we had a boys versus girls Christmas shopping extravaganza ( in other words we went shopping for our husbands and they went shopping for us) After stopping at Spencer's gifts to buy some funny unmentionables for the bride-to-be Katie, we spent the day girl-talking it up as we hunted for man-gifts at reasonable prices. Then we went home and switched spouses to wrap. It ended up being a totally awesome way to go about it because now everyone knows what everyone is getting except for the person who is getting it. I am so glad the Roberts(es) are staying here for Christmas too. Our lone wolf Christmas has become a wolf pack Christmas and I am loving it.

P.S. After Christmas shopping Justin and I were so into the holiday spirit that we made a cardboard fireplace! ( pictured below)

Had to have a fireplace to hang stockings on, made from cardboard, paper, and a little magic...also known as elbow grease.

Lingerie cupcakes by Lacey Krout for Katie's bridal shower!

Like mother like daughter ; I set up the table the night before in the middle of our livingbedroom!

Also I taped our lights under it solely for this picture...

...but in this case Christmas beat Thanskgiving.





Justin made a turkey sandwich--on Thanksgiving. This man marches to his own drum and I love him for it.

                                            Cute kids playing near our table, this is Nikki.


Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, our packmates...I can hear their thoughts as we speak...just like Jacob in Twilight.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Hawaiian Thanksgiving: How to Make a Ti Leaf Cornucopia

Came up with this idea for a centerpiece because I wanted the local culture to be represented in our Thanksgiving spread.

   Materials:

                        -1 paper plate
                        -8 medium-large Ti leaves
                        -tape

       Process:

        Form a structure: Shape the paper plate into the rough shape of a cornucopia by rolling one end tightly and securing with tape. Give the roll a little bend toward the tip once the tape is in place.
                    Braid the brim: Wash 4-5 of your Ti leaves, pat dry leaving the leaves moist. Microwave each leaf in 10 second intervals until they are pliable. ( You should be able to bend them without any tearing or cracking) Place 3 of the leaves lengthwise in front of you and fold the left and right sides toward the middle. Repeat.Use the now folded leaves as sections and braid. As the leaves will probably not be of equal length you will need to feed in another "section" when you come to the end of the shortest. When you come to the end of the shortest leaf bring it to the middle of the braid and tuck it downward; place the section on top of the downward facing leaf end , leaving about 1/2 inch rising above the braid-line. Cross the other two sections over the new section and continue braiding as normal. You can trim the 1/2 inch sticking out later if you want. When the braid reaches the length you want ( which will depend on how many times you want to wrap it around the wide edge of the paper plate-- mine was about 2 1/2 ft) Tie both ends off. Place in the fridge (to keep the leaves fresh) for later use.
             Wrap the structure: Use the remaining Ti leaves to wrap around the rolled paper plate. Start at the wide end and wrap horizantally. I was pretty liberal with the tape, but found that it was possible to tuck the ends under the mid-section of the leaf ( in case you want to be more crafty than I was). You will have to secure the edges closest to both the tight and the open ends with tape.
              Secure the brim: With the rolled paper plate lying tight end toward you, cut a wide, horizantal slit near the edge of the wide, open end. Feed one end of your Ti leaf rope into the slit. If the previous knot you tied does not keep it from slipping out of said slit, re-tie it so it's a little bigger. Turn the structure around so the wide end is facing you and wrap the braid clockwise around the open end. Keep wrapping until the end of the braid and tuck it under the previous row. I had to play around with the rows a little bit to get them to sit tightly, if your rows are sagging a little, gently tuck a the lose row over a tighter one.
               Fill: Fill the cornucopia with whatever your heart desires. I used dried coconut and macadamia nuts as another nod to our location, beautiful North Shore, Hawaii.
       

Sunday, November 20, 2011

1-2-3-4:Psychology and Basketball A Potent Mix?

According to Developmental Pyshcologist, Robert Kegan, there are five stages of subject-object realtivity we humans employ. The first stage, during childhood, is one in which we experience reality as moment-by-moment--Kegan  notes that young children will describe a movie by reflecting on a favorite character or an isolated scene without really catching on to the overall plot. As we get older we are able to see "time" as an object  and , in essence, step back to analyze it . This second level of understanding is one we experience through adolesence. What we lack as teens is the ability to make ourselves an object, to assess ourselves from a different point of view; so as teens we often appear narcissistic...in fact according to Kegan we are. Most Adults are at level three, able to curb our self-serving apetites for what we see as the greater good. Kegan claims that many adults never proceed to level four, in which we make the greater good the object and learn to see rules as a means to an end rather than something to be taken in a literal sense. But you don't want to hear all this, you want to hear about my weekend...

Let us begin with Friday night. Late Friday afternoon Justin got back from school at approximately 4:53.09. He was tired from studying but I was HYPER. I had been staring listlessly at my facebook page for about an hour ... utterly unable to unglue my eyes from my computer and be productive. Then my poor husband got home and was tackled to the floor before even setting down his backpack! "Let's do something anything, let's make Kool-aid, let's eat popcorn, let's do it, let's play cards, let's play tennis, I'm bored!!!!" I screamed "Matt called, he and Lace wanna play basketball." he grinned. "NOW?!!:)" I smiled, "Yay let's play basketball!" "Well, he said he would call me when they head over there, " he stated."Let's do something anything, let's make Kool-aid, let's eat popcorn, let's do it, let's play cards, let's play tennis, I'm bored!!!!" I screamed...again. Poor guy, how was he to know my subject-object relativity making had reverted to level one.

So we went and played basketball. Don't worry I sobered up before we got to the gym. By the time the sports dude lowered a hoop for us I was operating solidly at a level two. We played 21 and I only guarded Justin because after all, wouldn't it just be silly for me to try to get the ball from anyone who didn't have a vested interest in my spectacularly batted lashes?Justin seemed to be making meaning in a completely different way ,however, because he certainly didn't have my eyelashes in mind when he slammed his shoulder into my chin. " What is this guy doing," I thought " doesn't he realize this little game of 21 is really just about him paying attention to me?" So I responded the way many a level twoer has, I kicked him right in the bEhind...in front of his friends no less. As you can imagine this did not go over well, but luckily my husband was not on level two so he was gracious about it. Soon some other friends showed up and a 3 on 3 pick-up game started. I was not chosen for either team as I am not particularly good at basketball. "I will sit here and they will all see how terribly gracious I am." I thought, of course when Justin didn't seemed to be looking I turned it instead into a fight, claiming that he should have tried to find a way for me to play too. What I was really struggling with however was getting beyond myself ...getting beyond level two. Needless to say I had some apologizing to do when the level three in me came through.

Today however was a perfect day, I think I even made it to level four a couple of times.Yes truly, an objective synthesis of  "the greater good" was certainly neccesary for the events of the day. Let's just say that "call your own fouls" was a rule that was meant to be broken in order to have an eternal perspective... right? Somehow I am thinking Kegan might not agree... Anyway I made my own team to play in the intramural ,3-on-3 basketball tournament,there were only four girls' teams entered and two of them were predominately made up of cross country runners. Justin describes the game between our two teams as a "controlled fight"... he's probabaly right you know, at one point there were three of us on the ground , clutching desperately at the ball and shouting "No way,no way, no way" "get it , get it ,get it , get it" and " FOOOOOOOOTBAAALL" respectively.What can I say we are runners, I mean running  isn't even that fun if you aren't a fiercely competitive person by nature...and it turns out basketball can get your blood boiling -- who knew?

Thursday, November 10, 2011

This IS your home.

This year Justin and I have decided to stay in Hawaii for Christmas. That is one of the (only) downsides to going to school here--expensive airfare.I keep switching between optimism and utter bewilderment about it. I mean, what is Christmas without family? Everything about the holiday is, for me, steeped in family traditions and connections.How can Dec. 25th possibly occur without me seeing my parents and sisters? But see that is one of the hardest commitments you make when you get married, commiting first and foremost to your own nuclear family, at least according to our culture it is...Happily you can usually fufill both obligations simultaneously. This year I can't.
I sat, musing about this particularly difficult reality one day when Justin walked in. My eyes snapped up as I looked him straight on and said stalwartly " We have plenty of money in the account [nevermind that we need every penny of it for next semester's housing and tuition], I absolutely need a trip tp the mainland this Christmas." He looked at me discerningly, ready to blast away my carefully constructed facade."Kels..." he said, "what are you trying to say here?" " I want to go home!" I pouted childishly [no really, lip puckered and everything---it was fantastic] , batting my eyes for good measure. " This is your home." he said seriously, his eyes locked on mine trying to communicate the words his guarded nature wouldn't allow him to say. I wasn't letting him off that easily, I stared up at him, willing myself to look every bit as mesmerisingly cute as Puss-in-Boots. Finally he broke his gaze and choked out " What about our song?Don't you feel that way about me anymore?" whoa...whoa....W-H-O-A...
This is our song-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjky7v7JIow
--------I gotta say it, my shy guy sure has away with words...[ needless to say I decided a cozy Christmas with just him would be a cozy Christmas at home.]

Monday, November 7, 2011

Tolerance:A One Way Street

Tolerance, a word used far too much and far too little in my opinion. The way I am talking about it, in a politically charged ( and often misused) way, tolerance means being open to differences; whether cultural, political, religious, or otherwise. The thing is, that in the context of my own life "tolerance" has always been something I was expected to give more of , with far less emphasis on the recieving end. Throughout my life I have had my views challenged, and often reshaped in the name of tolerance. "Be tolerant" my peers urged, when I took a Pro-life view of abortion. "Be tolerant" they commanded when my Dad pulled up with a Prop 8 sticker on his bumper. " Be tolerant" they clamoured, when I related my personal opinion about illegal immigration. The thing is, my peers were right. Often times I was insensitive and close-minded when I formed my opinions. There were many instances in which I could have benfited from hearing another's point of view, from having sympathy for someone who was struggling. I honestly want to be kind and understanding to everyone regardless of who they are, or where their life has taken them. It's a hard thing to do. What I think my peers really wanted though was something different.
For many "be tolerant" means "change your opinion so that it is the same as mine".  Take this logic for example: "Be tolerant of those who consider abortion Kelsey,  you don't understand their situation..." ---"OK I guess that's fair" ---" So you're pro-choice now right?" ----"ummm-no" I should sympathize more with those in the tough situation of an unwanted pregnancy, it's true I haven't been in the situation myself and I couldn't understand how hard it is. I should not judge those who have chosen a legal abortion, I should not hate them, or say or do anything to hurt or harm them. But that does not mean I have to advocate abortion --or even the right to it.As far as the law goes, it is my right to vote for or against something  based on my own opinion, whether that fits in with someone else's agenda or not. And guess what else? I can vote with my religious beliefs in mind, just as much as I can vote based on what the Crazy 8 ball told me the night before...that's my right in a democratic society and one that has been extolled as a basic human right in this Country as well.
So many people have told me to "be tolerant", but in the process of saying it have lacked tolerance toward me. Be tolerant peers, of my religious views and their role in the formation of my personal opinons. Be tolerant friends, of my choice to marry young, to keep the Sabbath day holy, to have a lot of children, to abstain from caffeine. Don't post malicious comments or videos on facebook or your blog about Mormons and how they are crazy or cultish or nerdy or pompous or intolerant. Because that friends is just simply not tolerant.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Do I Still Believe?

Lately I seem to be asking myself  a certain question with increasing frequency. I keep on asking myself " Do I believe this?" Do I still believe in the doctrine and principles I have been taught and have had faith in for so long. At first this constant jumping into my head of the very same question thing concerned me. Did this recurring question represent a dwindling of my faith? I realized to day that this is not the case. I realized that the question comes not as a result of doubt, but rather of investing myself more fully in the gospel. The question itself is of little consequence when compared with the answer. I have decided that it really doesn't matter how many times I ask myself if I truly am a Latter Day Saint, because the anwer is and will always be yes. I have recieved a witness, multiple witnesses really, that God lives.
        " I had seen a vision; I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it, neither dared I          do it; at least I knew that by so doing I would offend God, and come under condemnation. "
                                                                                                                   --Joseph Smith Jr

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Thrifty

I'm starting to get the feeling that Justin and I might be exceptionally cautious spenders. The hunch started in the cereal isle. Justin and I have come to an agreement on cereal, since it's a staple food in our house we allow ourselves to buy what we like, regardless of price. Haha...at least we are supposed to. As we stood there deciding I couldn't help but notice a little yellow sale tag waving triumphantly from  HGGUHHHHHHHHHGAASP--the brand name section! We walked on over and the sight of that tag placed just below that irresistably colorful box with Fred Flintstone on the front and Justin shouted gleefully " FRUITY DYNO-BITES!!!" Apparently we haven't been giving ourselves as much license as we thought... This suspicion was confirmed when Justin said we could buy the name brand soda (just this once) and I automatically assumed that meant Shasta. Also we spent more time than I care to tell trying to figure out whether 2/7.00 for 1.75 oz. was a better deal than 6.07 for a gallon...I leave you to be the judge.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

REAL LIFE STUFF

Lately I have been learning a lot about different philosophers, and it's lent to this constant nagging in the back of my head. I keep asking myself, what is reality? Everyone has their own perception of what is real, can we definitely say that what we as individuals percieve to be reality is universal? Can we each have a personal reality? Perhaps our dreams, or visions, or whatever form part of our realities? If a tree falls down in an uninhabited forest does it make a sound? Of course whenever I find myself facing such a quandry I always turn to the experts---

Of course we know J.K. Rawling's standpoint on the issue, or at least Dumbledore's ...

             "Tell me one thing,"said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?" Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice was loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure. " Of course it is happening in your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

And J.R.R. Tolkein's/ Gandalf's( beginning with "Darkness took me) http://movieclips.com/xvsye-the-lord-of-the-rings-the-two-towers-movie-gandalf-returns/

Another snowy haired advice giver ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyrnvP53h38&feature=related
Which just goes to show that all you have to do to avoid personal crises is be a nerd...or lest that's how I see things.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

An Ongoing Battle

There is one enemy I have had to face time and time again. It creeps up on me, cripples me, grips me tightly and doesn't let go. A fear of being mediocre.

In highschool, I followed a very tight schedule. I woke up before dawn to drag myself to seminary, I took AP classes and tests,went to mutual, sang in the choir, ran 4yrs of Varsity Cross Country and Track...and always always I was striving for the best, my Dad used to say, " Just do your best Kels, that's all we ask you for..." but doing your best in everything is easier said than done.

Back then, and today too, I never really felt like I was doing a great job. It felt like I was constantly treading water, trying to balance all the different commitments I had made, and I felt like all I could do was stay afloat. These days I am still running cross country, working for the newspaper, taking 16 credits, married, doing my own laundry...sometimes I feel like I'm sinking.

Maybe that's why I get so worked up about stupid things like my failed attempt at a romantic dinner tonight. See Justin and I have been so busy lately, and I just wanted to get back that old excitement of being together. I am not a great cook and I feel terrible that we eat macaroni or fast-food as often as we do because I can't seem to get myself organized enough to plan meals ahead and do the prep work when I have the time. Tonight I wanted to make something at least remotely culinary and I fantasized about buying a single candle from foodland, letting it burn low, talking and laughing and enjoying our perfectly crafted spinach stuffed potatoes. But alas, mediocre seems to be the limit for me.

After a series of events ( such as taking hours longer to get to the beach because my beloved wanted to send a detailed analysis of today's race to his coach), it was 6:10 and no efforts had yet been exerted for said dinner plans. Soon it was 6:30 and I found myself waiting for Justin to leave on his second run so I could start getting stuff together , but still he lingered...and ate a sandwich...even though I had told him I wanted to make him a special dinner and that it was his responsability to supply the candle. My frustration mounted...

Fast forward, I am fuming after Justin tells me he is not very hungry because dinner ended up being so late--- "( and not that tasty...and candleless...)," I think----and that is when that awful fear of never being anything more than mediocre kicks me in the hiney. I just sit there feeling crappy like "this is the most romantic dinner I will ever be able to give him because it seems to be physically impossible for me to get dinner on the table before 8 p.m. so it will always be a choice between disintrest in my stressfully prepared food or fastfood on-time." Then I think about how I am settling for the 6th spot on my team because I know 6 travel and as long as I get on the traveling team I will be happy. I think about how my senior year of high school  I let myself get a C in art history just because I didn't want to put the extra hours of effort into homework. I think about how I am graduating early and how it's bittersweet because I feel like the major I chose ended up being a super-easy-to-complete one and how their are other kids doing 20 hour long projects every other week. I think about how I want to be a writer , but how I also want to be a mom and it seems like in order to have both of those I will have to settle for reporting on highschool cross country meets and entertaining fantasies about writing a novel with a twighlightesque response from the world.

I sit here and I wonder why I do any of it at all, I am not particularly excelling in anything. My head is screaming " I need validation!!!!" and " Seriously are you that much of an attention-seeker??" at the same time. So what's it all for anyway? Why do I go through my day stretched thin just to stew in a boiling pot of mediocrity? I have no idea. I do know that there are these pure, quiet moments that come and make me feel like I'm doing something right. I know that my husband and family love me. I guess the real question I am asking myself is " Do I love me?" The answer I think is that I love the person I want to be, and I can't be her if I don't do this stuff now. I won't ever have it all figured out, but for now I will plan on being a less frazzled, nicer, more-prompt-dinner-maker someday, and learn to love myself in the meantime...right?

Friday, August 26, 2011

Fighting

I am fighting, struggling, squirming beneath my skin
Trying to move trying to push past the roiling deep within
As I struggle and battle and tear at myself, each step falls heavily down
I'm drowning, no suffocating, no slowly coming 'round.
I'm breathing now and suddenly I am filled with regret and shame
That I fought and struggled and squirmed at all---and then it all starts again.

Today I am fighting a "huge mental battle" as one of my teammates deemed it . It all started with that stupid e-mail...I have been wondering for a while now if I was being a coward for not asking my coach about a scholarship for this semester. I have been doing a decent job and plan on getting faster and peaking when it counts. So the other day, after being persuaded by my dear sweet husband, I did it. I asked him what I could do to get a scholarship. I didn't really expect much to come of it, it wouldn't be the first time I have been rejected you see, and I had kind-of set my sights on not really worrying about it this year. Well at least I thought I was prepared for the answer.

The thing is, the answer was no, which was expected, but the accompanying feelings were not expected. I felt rejected and hurt. I had heard about some other girls on the team getting offers and I started comparing myself to them. I started wondering why no one EVER seemed to think I was worth it in ANYTHING. I was angry and sad and SUUUUUUPER self-esteemy. I let it build up , I let it stew, and then I headed to our second practice of the day...all the while wondering who in their right mind would be putting 5 hours a day into something without any compensation.

Practice didn't go well for me. I pulled out of our last 1200m interval claiming asthma... which seemed legit to those around me given the little high pitch whines coming out of me ( they were really half-veiled sobs). I finished our cool down and headed home, ashamed of quitting, and ashamed that I was letting this bother me, and totally ashamed to tell Justin how practice went. ---Should I have told him? Maybe some battles are meant to be fought alone?---

Then today at 6 AM we had ANOTHER six minute time trial. It hasn't even been 2 weeks since our last one and I was bitter and angry and SO NOT IN THE MOOD.We ran the warm up and I just ran hard, not wanting to think about all the pressure and the anger and the sad and the mad. We started the 6 minute...I pulled out before finishing my second lap. This time it was my "ankle" that hurt ( for those who don't know I really have been suffering from achilles tendonitis, though it wasn't what was bothering me today). What a sissy I am, I just got so frustrated like " What you want me to wake up and get out of my warm bed to come run this stupid thing for you, which won't give an accurate estimate of what shape I am in anyway because our workouts have been brutal this week and I can barely feel my legs, and you want me to do it for FREEEEEEEEEEEEE and you haven't even given me new shoes yet...and the other injured girls get to ride the bike today and the girl that just passed me ,who I could easily crush in this run right now is not running for FREEEEEEEE...what kind of a ninny do you think I am..." and then I started mentally shooting the words "You get what you pay for" at my coach. Then I just stopped. Just quit. Just like that...and I was ashamed again.

Now I have got it all figured out though.I told Justin I need to have a reason for doing this, a cause, some method in the madness. See who in their right mind would spend so much time and energy on something they weren't going to commit to. I do have my reasons, there the same as they were before; I love to run. I want to beat my best time. I want to travel. I want to share this with my husband, but I lost sight of those things for  no good reason. I let it be about what others thought, I valued someone else's validation over my own, and I cheapened two of my work-outs because of it. You get what you pay for, it holds true for your training, for life in general I think. I believe that running is a good investment, that each day of practice and "I-can't-believe-how-hard-this-work-out-is"s will yield more than enough to make it all worth it.

Life's like that I suppose. It takes a whole lot of "eh" days to recognize those extraordinary ones that give us a sense of purpose. If we put in our best efforts how sweet will be the fruit of the harvest. If we are complacent, then what do we live for? It's not much of a payday when you don't put in the hours.So from now on I am not going to let anything stand in my way. I am not going to stand there and let the small things take me down. I am going to keep fighting, with everything I have, knowing that it's worth it, knowing that the fruit will be oh-so-sweet.

Monday, August 15, 2011

For ME

Today's the big day.. I mean THE day. The day of the duhduhduh, gulp, 6 minute run. See on our cross country team we do these 6 minute runs to test our V02 Max, or our ability to use our hearts and lungs effectively. Let me tell you though, my heart is quailing right now and I still have a couple hours!! See the thing is, I shouldn't really take the 6 minute run personally. It's basically a measure of your god given talent and just because someone runs it faster than you doesn't mean they are going to be a better 5k racer. Somehow though, this 6 minute run seeps its way into each of our souls and all of us get on that starting line jittery and rarin' to go. It's a madhouse I tell you and ESPECIALLY the first one of the year, everyone wants to make a good impression on the coach and for most of us there are SCHOLARSHIPS on the line here. Justin is currently telling me that he thinks " Coach will take the 5k into perspective more than the 6 min." He fails to encourage me.

To top it all off I totally hurt my achilles last week and haven't  gotten a good and proper training run in since MONDAY! ahhhh One whole week of swim workouts and the elliptical, I might as well just claim my place in the back here and now...and yet...there's my little notebook lying slyly on th bed with my goal times for each 200 meter split of that 6 minute...and I tell you what those goals ain't based on bad-ankle-me. In any case, I am totally scared out of my pants right now but at the same time I relish it, this feeling of pumping up , of getting ready. Somehow it really doesn't matter whether I beat my teammates in this one or not. All that matters is that win or lose I LOVE this sport. I love it so much that I kept doing it, even when my scholarship was NOT renewed after my freshman year.

Last year I made a big point of that fact. I would tell my teammates "Well who cares if I only got 6th on our team, I am running for coach for free and you guys are getting paid." It was a terrible attitude...and one I would like to say has changed. I think it has anyway. If you ask me today what I run for, it's not for coach, it's not for free, it's for ME... and a teeny bit for Justin and my Dad because they just get so excited about it... so this year I am nervous, but in a good way because I am out to impress someone who I know will give me a totally fair critique...ME.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Your Mama Loves You

Today I was reading an old blog post by NAT THE FAT RAT http://www.natthefatrat.com/2010/10/two-drifters-off-to-see-world.html, called "two drifters off to the see the world." It was a sweet and personal post, one of the gems among her silly stuff, and it really got to me.

Here at BYU-Hawaii I am an ICS major- Communication emphasis, which means I have been studying culture and anthropology. Often, my studies leave me feeling discouraged because I am learning this new objective and scientific perspective that makes the familiar seem strange. Today for example, we discussed Mormonism's representation in the Anthropological world. We talked about our "rituals", about "emotionalization as a conversion catalyst", about the "heirarchal political structure" within the Church. I enjoy studying these things and I think that looking at Mormonism helped put my studies into a new light. At the same time, however, I feel like this scientific objectivity tends to dehumanize. Talking about the adaptive value of  religious rituals or defining spirituality as emotionalism discredits, and detracts from the spirit that I feel as a partcipant. I look back at those truly pivotal moments in my life and imagine them being explained through this kind of perspective. It simply can't be done.

The truth is that the most real moments in our lives are not the ones that can be explained by academia. They are those personal , exsquisite moments in which we leave our thoughts and our theories behind. When we just lie there and let warmth and depth soak into our very souls.

I remember my mom rocking me , all wrapped up in a blanket and whispering " Mama loves you." My Dad tearing up as I crossed the finish line in first place , on his birthday. I remember looking into the eyes of my one and only and thinking " I could be with him forever." I remember standing at the top of a mountain overlooking the ocean and feeling an overwhelming peace and happiness, and knowing that there was Someone who created all this, knowing I belonged to Him in a most personal and Spiritual way. These moments took place without an outside catalyst. They weren't the result of some biological need or societal pressure. They were personal, private, real , both indescribable and undeniable.

I can hear the echos of my mother's simple phrase, I can feel within me an urgent desire and need to utter it for myself. To me it is so much more than a biological impulse to procreate. I feel it so much more deeply than I would an instinct. Yes, it's deeper than all that.

"Your Mama Loves You." When she whispers it to you in the night, when she chokes it out while you wait for your stuff at the baggage claim, when she squeezes into the camera's view and yells it out just before you press "End Call" on skype. Can you honestly claim it is anything less than divine?

Monday, August 8, 2011

CRAZY!

Yesterday started off with a bang for poor Justin. It seems that every time I start a new round of birth control I go nuts. This time I seemed to think that Justin just didn't express his love for me enough. I happen to know that this particular strain of thought is untrue because Saturday morning I happened to tell all my friends about all the little things my honeybunches does just to make me feel special. Not to mention Saturday night was one of the most romantic dates I have ever been on, complete with beach make-out and security guards trying to save us from pre-marital doom, ( "...except we are already married sir so if you could just leave us alone now we'll try to wrap this up real quick without making any more single people jealous.") Anyway then I took my crazy pill Sunday morning and it was like the sky fell over. I laughed, I cried, I made Justin bang his head against the wall . Anyway , I guess we ended up in a good place because I came to my senses just before we had to leave for Church and got him all choked up by being like " I'm sorry honey, I know I am acting all crazy and everything. The truth is I know you love me and I know you show it differently than I do but I want you to know that I notice it. I noticed how you woke up early to fix my bike and how you are always trying to do little things for me. And I do love you for who you are." So yeah, I went a little crazy but maybe a little crazy was just what I needed in order to come to a perfectly  sane conclusion.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

FOOD=MORTALITY, COOKING=TRIUMPH

This is actually a paper I wrote for an Anthropology class, I gave a presentation about the cultural significance of a favorite dish afterwhich we watched an episode of a PBS show entitled The meaning of food... I felt like I had some good insights, though perhaps the connection I made may seem a little strong. Anyway I just felt like sharing...

"After watching and discussing the episode of “ The Meaning of Food”, I have a newfound appreciation for its [food’s] effect on culture and life. The film had particular meaning to me because I happened to present my “Food Project” on the very same day. What I came to find out about my own attachments to food was reflected in the cases of the four different people in the film. After thinking on the depth of these attachments specifically: my own feelings about food, what I have come to learn about food and BYU-Hawaii students, and those of the people in the film; I have come to the conclusion that food can be a very spiritual matter.
                While preparing my grandmother’s “ German Pancakes” for their presentation to the class, I realized that my hands were shaking. As I rolled each strip, I laughed at myself and then mulled over possible reasons why I should get so worked up. I am not usually unnerved by school presentations, oftentimes I even relish them, so I knew it was not the presenting that had me feeling jittery. As I examined my feelings, both in that moment and later in class, I tried to identify just what this particular food meant to me. What I came to realize was that this sentimentality for a certain dish was actually a complex and multi-faceted emotion. On the one hand preparing the pancakes, normally prepared by or with my mother, alone made me feel incredibly homesick. Flipping them in my little frying pan made me wonder if I would ever be as good a wife and mother as my mom is. Carrying them in my bread pan while riding my bike amused me, and seemed to connect for me two different “me’s” (the college me and the at home me). Finally I sat down and really thought about it and realized that it went even deeper than familial ties or an identity crisis, it was just this, a combination of the carnal and the divine. You see, on the one hand food is a necessity. It’s something our physical animalistic body needs, a craving or dependence which is distinctly mortal. Food=mortality. On the other hand food is a very spiritual thing. Smell, our sense which is most strongly tied to our memories brings on an onslaught of familiarity as we partake of a particular dish. Taste allows us to feel gratification. The combining of certain ingredients, in a certain way, in fact is in itself a showcase of our ability to create, something (aside from reproduction) that is distinctly human. Something that comes from within. In essence then the creation of a particular dish based on smell and taste and preference and our creative abilities is a sort of triumph over our mortality. Yes we need food, but what we choose to eat in order to fill that need is a choice. And that ability to choose is representative of our divine nature.
                Aside from my own experiences, I believe that others have felt a similar complexity behind their attachments to food. Here at BYU-Hawaii for instance, the counseling center’s number one recommendation to alleviate homesickness is to make yourself a dish from back home. Foodfest is hugely popular with students, and everyone seems to get extremely involved in the process of making their own traditional dishes. Food projects for classes are often the most prepared for in an entire semester. The case of the Alaskan Native Americans certainly seems to support my claim. The tribe members have gone to such extreme lengths in order to keep their right to eat their cultural food. They even specifically describe the spirituality of both hunting and eating the whale. Such a spiritual connection to food is apparent in the Ancient Hawaiians’ tender care for their taro, as well as in the emotion evident in the little Texan boy’s victory. I strongly believe that our connections to food are deep. Perhaps even deep enough to represent the triumph of the spirit over the natural man."

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Priceless

Roach spray: $6

Roach Traps: $9

Releasing a Gecko in your place to do the same job for you: Priceless...literally

On Monday after a long and VERY muddy run with my teammates, (unofficial run of course because we won't start real practice 'til mid August like good little NCAA clones) I found a cute and healthy looking Gecko sssskkkkkkkkkkkkkkekkkking happily along in the girl's locker room. Maybe its just the sustainability literature I've been reading lately but I had the sudden urge to plop that little guy right down in our livingbedroom( ahhh my tiny newlywed studio), and see what he could do for me. So I stuck him inside my friends sock and carried him right on over to our little place and plop ...he...did.

Yesterday I heard his characteristic little cackle and my eyes got really big and excited. Justin LOVES when I get this look, our first encounter with it was when we had some pitbull tag-alongs during our Tsunami camp-out last year. Poor guy, my husband I mean,  he is totally doomed to a houseful of pets cause he can't resist my childlike excitement. Butchya wanna know a secret, I TOTALLY can't resist his either. He has these big old brown eyes that just take over his whole face when he is happy and the best part about yesterday's gecko cackle was that when I was childishly happy HE was childishly happy and I was sitting there thinking...wouldn't it be awesome if we could just be childishly happy all the time.

Good thing we look like kids, cuz people can't tell us to act our age when we giggle and mess around. Thank you little body and bad sense of style combo for 1) allowing me to continue to trick-or-treat  2) finding me a matching hubby and 3) allowing us to act like we are the ages we look...13ish 15ish sometimes I can go 17 if I really work hard at my make-up. In sum life is pretty rad, yes the gecko is still alive and thriving, and I am wondering how this looking-like-tweens thing is going to work whenever we decide to have children. Maybe I will look 19 by then and I will only  get a FEW disparaging remarks.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Still Kids ( Sizes that is)

Justin flying his R/C airplane, wearing boys' size 16 swim trunks. Let's not even start with what size swimsuit mine is...

Last weekend Justin and I decided to use some of our wedding giftcards on a Macy's trip. Both of us were-slash-are in need of some new school clothes for the very same reason---now if I tell you this you have to promise not to laugh...here it goes... Justin and I both have wardrobes primarily made up of kids' clothes. And not just like yeah- I -am-still- pretty- much- a -teenager clothes but like yeah- I- buy- size- 14- in- little- girls because they're cheaper and ( for Justin) yeah I- buy- little- boy- t-shirts- because- they fit me- better- AND- they're -cheaper. Also neither of us has done much growing since,  well ...ever so we both have lots of stuff that is OLD like I am -wearing- it- in- my- 7th- grade- photos old! Long story short this shopping trip was long overdue. It seems though that fate wants us to look forever unequipped for what ever tasks we are attempting to handle because we both got LOST in the big kids' sections. Justin finally suggested we split up and as I perused the racks all on my lonesome I just couldn't seem to find a single item that would fit my needs. I am going for a very sophisticated "so what if I'm only 20 and look like I'm fifteen I am married and I don't need your advice" sort of look you see and clothes that have that much attitude are hard to find among the mommy-drearest clothes which occupy Macy's clearance racks. I finally gathered up an assortment of clothes I thought would do but when I tried them on gahhhhhhh...they didn't fit. Apparently I am not a size two in regular women's sizes... who knew that women's was different than jr's??? Guess I should have figured that out. Just then, Justin returned from his own shopping escapade with a rather sheepish smile, he was holding two shirts in size XL ...you guessed it from the little boys section. I turned my head sadly to the brand names plastered on the tshirts in the middle of the jr's section and sigghhhhegaaaasped... There right before me was one of the greatest ideas I had ever seen...the petite section. It took all of 10 minutes for me to grab an impressive pile of clothes with just the right subtle " I am a wife now" sophistication. And shopping for adult clothes was FINALLY a success.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Doubts

Today Justin tried to inspire me in my training by using an age old coaching tactic that simply SHOULD NOT be used on your wife. See he figured it would make me even more determined to beat the odds if he pretended he didn't think I could do well this season. Long story short after a tearful call to my Dad I found myself being smothered with kisses and a whole lot of " I didn't mean to hurt you"s. The thing is though I should have figured from the beginning that Justin didn't really mean what he said. I know he loves me, wants the best for me, and I know he thinks I am a great runner. Still all it took was that one little statement to the contrary and I chose to let it make me feel like everything that had come before didn't matter. I started to think about the sitaution from a different perspective. You see, I have been allowing myself to stray away from those little things I need to do every day in order to feel close to God, and the resultant feeling of distance between us has caused a battle between what I know in my heart and those creeping doubts. I let one small moment of emptiness outweigh all my past experiences and feelings. Moral of the story. Have faith in who you were before and don't let bad times change your mind. Becasuse you really will just feel plain stupid if you do.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Arizona Stars and Sun


As Justin and I wrap up our summer stay in Arizona, I can't help but be just a tiny bit sad. Our stay in Casa Grande kind of turned into a little extended honeymoon ....+ online classes and - the excuse to spend money. Last week was like heaven despite the high temperature. We took a week break from our running agenda in favor of some cycling. We rode his grandma's old-people trikes which we came to find out were better for our training than regular bikes, we rode this loop around the neighborhood late each night and took in the stars which were brighter than I have ever seen them, perhaps because the neighborhood is on the edge of town and there are less lights. In any case those evening rides are taking up a surprising amount of space in my heart and memory right now. It's like they meant a lot more to me than just beng out riding with my husband. I think it's because they involved so much more than riding. I was thinking really hard about a lot of different things on those rides. For one thing I thought about death. I thought about how my own fear of it has such a constricting grip on my life. Because I am afraid of death my LIFE is limited. Then I looked up in the night sky and that fear semed so far away. It's easy to see forever in that vastness of space and the all knowing presence of those little pinpricks of light. I keep thinking... I think about  super-powers and how caged in we are by the limitations of our bodies...and then a flash of the video we watched earlier passes before my eyes; the one of girls who look like me running faster than people used to think men could run. I think about nike and those shirts that say impossible is nothing. I think about my marriage and the things I want or our family. I think about babies and how long I think I can wait before I start begging for one...(right now I've settled for the promise of a puppy in the near future.) I think about the fights Justin and I have had in the past and then I look at him peddling smilingly around that lake , his sweet brown eyes focused so intently on the path ahead. I think that I want a little boy with those eyes, that 5 years from now I could be watching our son in a similar setting. I am thinking that forever must be real. Because these thoughts simply can't lead me to any other conclusion. And I think that I will miss this place, and I tell myself there will be similar attachments to every place we go no matter what. I know it's true becaue no matter what there will always be the stars, I will always be thinking way too hard, and there will always be Justin. And it's scares me how easy it is to believe that nothing else matters.

P.S. After reading my blog Justin quoted Harry Potter 7 " The last enemy to be conquered is death" ...yeah we are that into it.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

At all times, and in all things, and in all places: A tribute to the most defining factor in my life.

In the last couple days I have seen a lot of skepticism about Mormons in various places. With that "Book of Mormon" play coming out and two potential LDS candidates in the next election, I think people are hearing a lot about us and forming their own opinions based on a vague idea of who we are and what we believe.

There are times in my life where I stop and ask myself what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. Times where someone or something reminds me that I have chosen a life that does not necessarily resonate with most of the world's views and beliefs. Sometimes I feel like what I feel and know in my heart and soul couldn't possibly be a reality, simply because so many people say that it's not. There are times where I am scared, where I lose hope, times when I feel like a light somewhere has gone out. What I have found, however, is that that light will always come back; that if I take my doubts with me to my knees , and profess them openly though prayer to my Heavenly Father, that he will respond in a simple and yet glorious way. Even my weakest and most pitiful prayers have been answered with a flood of comfort and peace. Through that comfort and reassurance, I know that I can stand up to any criticisms from my peers or even the world at large.I have nothing to hide and nothing to fear. I know that I can depend on support from the Lord.

I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe He is the Son of the Living God who, in turn, is the literal Father of our spirits. I believe that our Savior was ressurected and that He will come again. I believe that His prophets, both ancient and modern, were and are his mouthpieces on the Earth. I believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ as it is taught in the Book of Mormon and the Bible. I believe in the standards and principles of my Church and I try -- will always try-- my best to follow them. I don't think anyone should be theatened by this. I would not force anyone to conform to my lifestyle, though I will willingly share my opinions and beliefs with those around me, as I think most people do.

So if you were wondering, I'm not brainwashed , I'm not naive. I have made a choice based on what I know in my heart because of personal experiences and investigation. And I will stand by that choice at all times, and in all things and in all places.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Daily Grind

One thing that's different about being married s being with eachother all the time. When we were dating, all I could think about was Justin where was our relationship going what would I learn about him next, how could I see him more. Then we got engaged and it was all about planning the wedding. Add in school and work and sports and we were lucky to get more than an hour together. Now we are here at home just the two of us for summer break and we are together all the time...I love it! It's so awesome trying to figure out how to work around and with each other, especially when we get it right. And it's so nice to be able to focus on the little things and not stress about class and everything else. Still sometimes start to get summer blues and I think it has to do with how ordinary and slow each day is. Of course this is not helped by the fact that I am far away from my family and friends. I know we can't go on dates everyday but from now on I am going to try to add some spunk to this summer. Each day I will have to think of something new and different to keep things lively. Tomorrow's adventure=making bread together OR making a fort in the living room ...I am leaving myself two options to allow for maximum spotaneity.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

For Richer and for Royer

In the months leading up to my recent ( as in six weeks ago) wedding, I met with a lot of different reactions. My closest friends were really happy for me, while others criticized my decision to get married young. Many of the latter seemed to be under the impression that I was making an uninformed decision, and one person even told me that my marriage wouldn't last. I want those people to know that I plan to put my heart and soul into this marriage. FOR RICHER OR FOR ROYER! In other words, I didn't step into this thnking it was my own tailor-made fairytale, and though I'm sure there will be some curveballs, this is a choice that I will stick with far beyond my lifeon Earth. I intend to use this blog to write about the ups and the downs of marriage and family...from the very beginning.

So here I am , 20 years old and six weeks into my marriage. So far marriage is an adjustment, but nothing I hadn't expected...the biggest lesson so far has been compromise; both when you disagree with each other, and with yourself in the midst of choosing your battles .Like when we are both brushing our teeth and Justin cringes at how big of a blob I use...Just imagine : he slowly puts down his toothbrush and backs out of the bathroom, hands in the air and I can see the thoughts forming in his mind."Ok  Justin," he tells himself  "if you let this one slide then you can probably come off with a victory the next time she tries to buy smooth peanut butter..." FLASH TO THE GROCERY STORE , I win my own internal battle by telling myself I can survive such a dishonor to my Mom's jam , in favor of winning the epic skirmish with a triumphant  "YOU WILL NEVER WASH THE WHITES WITH THE COLORS AGAIN REGARDLESS OF THE 16 CENTS IT SAVES!" See, compromise...I'm checking it off in my notebook of lessons to keep learning for the rest of your life. Compromise...a lesson I have just recently started to learn ;)

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I am a videographer located in Goodyear, Arizona. Visit my site storiestoldmedia.com to check out my best work and the Stories Told blog.

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