Music Major Confession: Practicing is very likely number 2390 on my list of things I want to do at any given moment. During school, I force myself to get it done, and I really have enjoyed it. But the second school lets out, the pressure's gone and I'm outta there. As President of Music Majors Against Practicing, it makes me really respect music majors who actually ENJOY practicing, even during break.
Basically, what I decided today that I am really really really really bad at practicing during Christmas break. I think I've practiced twice, total, since school got out. And for just an hour at a time.
It's whatever. I think I'm just going to sit back and enjoy my break. Saxophone causes me a lot of stress--while I LOVE being a part of Synthesis and the sax studio, while I enjoy playing in general and I do want to get better at it and eventually earn a performance degree with it, it's something that I'm not naturally driven to do.
As a music major I often feel that I am obligated to love practicing and to sell my soul to my instrument. But look, I'm not going to do that. I may be the laziest music major at BYU, and that's pretty pathetic considering I have had so many incredible opportunities this year, as a freshman, that some people never have in all their years at BYU. (Maybe that's not true. But still, my freshman year has been quite incredible.)
Really, though, all pessimism aside, I think my qualms with practicing just go to show that when it comes to playing the saxophone and other wind instruments, I don't do it for myself. I don't enjoy playing for myself, but I enjoy playing it for other people. In a band, in an audience, even to someone standing in a practice room to hear what I'm working on. I don't think I would ever "just get better" at saxophone to have the personal satisfaction of having done so. But I would work at it to lend my ability to a section or an ensemble or to a given performance--those are the things I love about it.
And--I don't know. Maybe that's how I landed myself in Synthesis on my first attempt, or in Wind Symphony, or a concerto competition. I love to play, but I never feel like I love it enough. I understand that I will probably never have adequate dedication to my instrument to really go somewhere or be somebody. But I like it alright, and if it serves Heavenly Father or His children in some small way, then I am going to keep doing it.
After christmas break is over, of course. ;P :)
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
Weirder Than Yours.
The following is a record of a super weird dream I had last night. No judging.
So it all started in my bedroom. I was technically in Wyview, but my room looked just like home in Orem. One night, a strange lady came in while I was sleeping, woke me, and informed me that I was her captive and that I had to turn my alarm clock forward every morning before I left for the day, and not disfigure the apartment in any way, or else she would "come for me."
So I did so. Except the next morning when I set my alarm clock forward an hour, I tried doing it in the dark and was pushing all sorts of buttons. It turned on some music, which eventually I stopped, but behind the bookcases just outside my room, something was repeating the music I had accidentally played. I ran upstairs, hoping the echo didn't penetrate walls, but it did. So I ran.
Me, Brianna, Bradley, and Brevin ran outside to a large field. No where to go, no clue what to do. This witch lady who had made me her "captive" had apparently made the planet Earth her captive as well, and she was draining all the colors from our world. As Bri, Brad, Brevs and I stood in the open field, gaping at the damage the witch was doing and becoming frightened that she was taking over the world, suddenly an old man appeared, and said,
"Hello, I'm the Doctor!" in a British accent.
The old man proceeded to use his sonic screwdriver to make a long trapeze bar appear just in front of us, and so one at a time we each grabbed the bar, flung ourselves under and up, did a couple backflips, and landed just beside The Doctor.
Then the scene changed. The Doctor, Brev, Brad, and I were on bikes, with Brianna walking beside, in the North complex of Wyview. We were headed to south Wyview where The Doctor lived, and headed there quick before the witch could get us. We rode to the Wyview gates and turned South. But Bradley got there too long before the rest of us and had turned the wrong way. We never saw him again.
Brianna, Brevin, I and The Doctor continued on our way to his apartment. We passed the multipurpose building, which was a "safe place," from the witch. I made note of where it was, and made note of the small tunnel covered in leaves standing just beside. We never actually made it to The Doctor's apartment.
Instead, I was determined to teach Brevin the path from my apartment to the safe place, in case he wanted to play there by himself. On his bike, I gave him directions to the other side of the tunnel, told him to stash his bike inside, then make a dash for the building. When he went, however, he peeked through the vines and saw a bunch of rowdy teenagers right there. He dashed out of the tunnel and hid behind a tree, but the teens (who were apparently working for the witch), saw him. He got on his bike and pedaled away, eventually outrunning them. This is where Brevin discovered that he had a special ability--while the witch could drain colors, Brevin could put them all back!
Before he could do so, however, the scene changed again. I was at North Wyview again, and my mom and I were set up at a small cardboard table in the middle of the sidewalk. We were doing crafts. We were using scarves and dummy heads as models to make hats. In the course of our crafting, we needed some safety pins. I remembered that I had a bunch of safety pins in the backseat of my car from when I took all the silly bows off my homemade ugly sweater. I ran to my car to collect them.
It took me several trips. On the last one, a bunch of teenagers (also rowdy, but not evil) had pulled up in their cars on both sides of me. Just to my left, however, was a sea-foam green car that was totalled, and teenagers were using another car to repeatedly ram into the backside of the totalled car. I did not want them to hit me by accident, so I pulled up my sassy pants and told the girl in charge that she needed to move her car out of the way so I could move MY car to the other side of the street, away from the gang party. She rolled her eyes but complied, saying it's only "hitting something that's not moving."
As if to prove her point, when I was backing out, she decided to stand right behind my car so I would hit her. I did so. Just to be a brat, and I stuck out my tongue at her as I finished backing out and drove over to the other side of the street. I pulled up right next to a cross-dressing football team having a pizza party.
I jumped out of my car, prepared to apologize and possibly get in a fist fight with the girl I hit, and that is exactly where my dream ended, and I woke up.
Bizarre.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So it all started in my bedroom. I was technically in Wyview, but my room looked just like home in Orem. One night, a strange lady came in while I was sleeping, woke me, and informed me that I was her captive and that I had to turn my alarm clock forward every morning before I left for the day, and not disfigure the apartment in any way, or else she would "come for me."
So I did so. Except the next morning when I set my alarm clock forward an hour, I tried doing it in the dark and was pushing all sorts of buttons. It turned on some music, which eventually I stopped, but behind the bookcases just outside my room, something was repeating the music I had accidentally played. I ran upstairs, hoping the echo didn't penetrate walls, but it did. So I ran.
Me, Brianna, Bradley, and Brevin ran outside to a large field. No where to go, no clue what to do. This witch lady who had made me her "captive" had apparently made the planet Earth her captive as well, and she was draining all the colors from our world. As Bri, Brad, Brevs and I stood in the open field, gaping at the damage the witch was doing and becoming frightened that she was taking over the world, suddenly an old man appeared, and said,
"Hello, I'm the Doctor!" in a British accent.
The old man proceeded to use his sonic screwdriver to make a long trapeze bar appear just in front of us, and so one at a time we each grabbed the bar, flung ourselves under and up, did a couple backflips, and landed just beside The Doctor.
Then the scene changed. The Doctor, Brev, Brad, and I were on bikes, with Brianna walking beside, in the North complex of Wyview. We were headed to south Wyview where The Doctor lived, and headed there quick before the witch could get us. We rode to the Wyview gates and turned South. But Bradley got there too long before the rest of us and had turned the wrong way. We never saw him again.
Brianna, Brevin, I and The Doctor continued on our way to his apartment. We passed the multipurpose building, which was a "safe place," from the witch. I made note of where it was, and made note of the small tunnel covered in leaves standing just beside. We never actually made it to The Doctor's apartment.
Instead, I was determined to teach Brevin the path from my apartment to the safe place, in case he wanted to play there by himself. On his bike, I gave him directions to the other side of the tunnel, told him to stash his bike inside, then make a dash for the building. When he went, however, he peeked through the vines and saw a bunch of rowdy teenagers right there. He dashed out of the tunnel and hid behind a tree, but the teens (who were apparently working for the witch), saw him. He got on his bike and pedaled away, eventually outrunning them. This is where Brevin discovered that he had a special ability--while the witch could drain colors, Brevin could put them all back!
Before he could do so, however, the scene changed again. I was at North Wyview again, and my mom and I were set up at a small cardboard table in the middle of the sidewalk. We were doing crafts. We were using scarves and dummy heads as models to make hats. In the course of our crafting, we needed some safety pins. I remembered that I had a bunch of safety pins in the backseat of my car from when I took all the silly bows off my homemade ugly sweater. I ran to my car to collect them.
It took me several trips. On the last one, a bunch of teenagers (also rowdy, but not evil) had pulled up in their cars on both sides of me. Just to my left, however, was a sea-foam green car that was totalled, and teenagers were using another car to repeatedly ram into the backside of the totalled car. I did not want them to hit me by accident, so I pulled up my sassy pants and told the girl in charge that she needed to move her car out of the way so I could move MY car to the other side of the street, away from the gang party. She rolled her eyes but complied, saying it's only "hitting something that's not moving."
As if to prove her point, when I was backing out, she decided to stand right behind my car so I would hit her. I did so. Just to be a brat, and I stuck out my tongue at her as I finished backing out and drove over to the other side of the street. I pulled up right next to a cross-dressing football team having a pizza party.
I jumped out of my car, prepared to apologize and possibly get in a fist fight with the girl I hit, and that is exactly where my dream ended, and I woke up.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bizarre.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Ask Me What I'm Doing
p.s. I'm not actually over thinking anything right now. I just like the picture. How's that for irony?
Friday, December 21, 2012
Confession #2
I'm a composer at heart.
When I was six I started making up my own little melodies on the piano, and these little melodies were half the reason I wanted piano lessons.
Played at the very top of the keyboard, this is the first song I ever composed (with words below):
"Hip, hip, for roses
Quite enough for you
For when I was not married,
I was in love with you."
I was so excited with this song, that I made up more and more songs and melodies as I finally began to take piano lessons and learned how to read and write music. Around the time I was 10, I wrote maybe 30 songs. They were cute little pieces, with titles like "The Woodpecker Song," "I'm Confused," and "Gypsy." I wrote duets, sonatas, theme and variations, whatever I felt like writing. I composed to my heart's content.
But as I learned even more about form in music composition, and my technical abilities became more refined, composing became harder. I was thinking of longer ideas, hearing more than an 8 measure melody with accompaniment, I was hearing three minutes of music with form and direction and a story that meant something. It's hard to coax it all out.
Hard as it was, once in a while, I succeeded. In seventh grade, I wrote "Imagination" and submitted it for Reflections. It was no masterpiece--two chords total, alternating back and forth the entire piece, and pretty simple melody and variations. But it was 3 minutes of music, and by far the most complex piece I'd ever written.
In 8th grade, I came up with several other ideas, one of which actually took shape three years later, during my junior year. I called it "Night," after the book by Elie Wiesel, because to me it tells the story of the holocaust--particulary the mystery of contentions stirring, the fiery train rides to concentration camps, the forsaking of hope, and finally the distant memory of everything since passed.
I've also completed "Take Wing," a happy little tune in F, and "Song for Sharalyn," which I wrote over the summer. "Trapeze" is one I haven't actually written out, but that I have completed. Besides that, I have several other musical ideas that I mess with from time to time. The thing is, with the way I compose, it kinda just has to come to me. I can't sit down and "write something," because I only write what I am pleased to hear. And so, I mess around with ideas and wait as they cook in my musical subconcious, until they're finally ready to emerge and make something out of the silence.
Even so, it is one of my greatest musical desires to be able to freely compose. It is sometimes frustrating having to wait so long to find a good idea and to figure out how to develop it. It is sometimes discouraging to compare myself to other New Age composers like David Lanz and Jon Schimidt and William Joseph who hold these legacies of composing great things at young ages. I wish more than anything to just be able to spit out music like people can spit out words in a fight. I have the ideas--but not the ability to become a vehicle for these ideas to make it into the world.
Which is why I just need to continue to work at it, and it's also why I just decided to take a composition class next semester. :-)
When I was six I started making up my own little melodies on the piano, and these little melodies were half the reason I wanted piano lessons.
Played at the very top of the keyboard, this is the first song I ever composed (with words below):
"Hip, hip, for roses
Quite enough for you
For when I was not married,
I was in love with you."
I was so excited with this song, that I made up more and more songs and melodies as I finally began to take piano lessons and learned how to read and write music. Around the time I was 10, I wrote maybe 30 songs. They were cute little pieces, with titles like "The Woodpecker Song," "I'm Confused," and "Gypsy." I wrote duets, sonatas, theme and variations, whatever I felt like writing. I composed to my heart's content.
But as I learned even more about form in music composition, and my technical abilities became more refined, composing became harder. I was thinking of longer ideas, hearing more than an 8 measure melody with accompaniment, I was hearing three minutes of music with form and direction and a story that meant something. It's hard to coax it all out.
Hard as it was, once in a while, I succeeded. In seventh grade, I wrote "Imagination" and submitted it for Reflections. It was no masterpiece--two chords total, alternating back and forth the entire piece, and pretty simple melody and variations. But it was 3 minutes of music, and by far the most complex piece I'd ever written.
In 8th grade, I came up with several other ideas, one of which actually took shape three years later, during my junior year. I called it "Night," after the book by Elie Wiesel, because to me it tells the story of the holocaust--particulary the mystery of contentions stirring, the fiery train rides to concentration camps, the forsaking of hope, and finally the distant memory of everything since passed.
I've also completed "Take Wing," a happy little tune in F, and "Song for Sharalyn," which I wrote over the summer. "Trapeze" is one I haven't actually written out, but that I have completed. Besides that, I have several other musical ideas that I mess with from time to time. The thing is, with the way I compose, it kinda just has to come to me. I can't sit down and "write something," because I only write what I am pleased to hear. And so, I mess around with ideas and wait as they cook in my musical subconcious, until they're finally ready to emerge and make something out of the silence.
Even so, it is one of my greatest musical desires to be able to freely compose. It is sometimes frustrating having to wait so long to find a good idea and to figure out how to develop it. It is sometimes discouraging to compare myself to other New Age composers like David Lanz and Jon Schimidt and William Joseph who hold these legacies of composing great things at young ages. I wish more than anything to just be able to spit out music like people can spit out words in a fight. I have the ideas--but not the ability to become a vehicle for these ideas to make it into the world.
Which is why I just need to continue to work at it, and it's also why I just decided to take a composition class next semester. :-)
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
The Problem With Doing Nothing
I don't enjoy doing nothing. But I don't remember how much I don't enjoy doing nothing until I do nothing and realize that there will never be enough of nothing done. And the reason is, there is an infinite amount of nothings in the universe to do, and so when you do nothing, you do nothing because there are simply too many nothings to do. And this doing nothing fills you with nothing and so you find yourself at 3:04 pm having done nothing and wondering why you feel filled with so much nothingness.
I then ask myself the question, "why on Earth did I decide to do nothing in the first place?"
And the answer is, because I thought that doing nothing would be doing something. And once I did all the nothings I could move on to the somethings, but that just hits on the whole problem with doing nothing: Nothing is never something. And if you want to feel good, you gotta do something.
So here goes something. (stay tuned)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Quote of the day:
"He's a teenage boy. It's in his job description to do crazy, epic, insane things on a daily basis." ~ Me after Bradley ran through the snow barefoot to retrieve the borrowed wax paper from neighbors and mom freaked out.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Closure
is when there is still so much left to say, but you no longer feel like saying it.
Not because you've given up,
Not because it's not worth it (though it isn't),
But because you realize that regardless of the words that could be said or the things that could be done to smooth it all over, you will be happy either way.
And that's just the point: you're happy.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Oh, Happily Ever After,
..........Wouldn't you know? Wouldn't you know?
Oh, skip to the ending.
Who'd like to know? I'd like to know!
Author of the moment, can you tell me,
do I end up, do I end up happy?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Here's a secret you've never thought:
They don't take place at graduation or on the medal stand or at the finish line,
Not after the perfect game or the winning shot or the performance of your life.
There are times in our lives where we are just so full of happiness and love and joy that we think nothing could ever compare, and sometimes we feel sad that those times have passed, have gone. We might think we've missed it, the Happily Ever After, and we are just "ever after" forever.
But really, we just have to remember that "Happily Ever After" doesn't mean "the end."
It means "the beginning."
So tell yourself to stop dreaming about the good times that long since passed. Stop wishing for those long-awaited days to just come sooner. Your happily ever afters aren't defined by any one moment, but rather, by all the moments in between. It's the string on a strand of Christmas lights, holding all the good parts of your life together, growing longer and longer as you live until it reaches the ultimate happily ever after: eternal life.
So for those who are waiting for a happily ever after to be found: you've already found it. Keep living the right way and you'll begin to see it more and more as you do.
And for those who think they've already accomplished a happily ever after and have nothing left to live for: You're not finished yet, and there's so much more out there for you to experience. Happily Ever Afters never end, so don't let go.
And for those who don't think it's possible for happily ever afters to be out there: don't give up. It's there, right before you, and it's in all the moments of your life through and in between the ones you'd like to call "big" or "important." It also comes from within you. It's within you, within me, within everyone.
In every storybook, the "happily ever after" always comes at the end. But it's not really the end; it's the beginning. It's the story itself, just wrapped up into one little sentence. And it doesn't just make the difference, it is the difference.
I believe in Happily Ever Afters.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Love is Radioactive
They say love never dies. That deep down, any love you've ever felt or any hopes of love you've ever dreamed, still exist. And I believe them, whoever they are, because I believe that love is radioactive.
That's why you still hold on to that girl you crushed on in second grade or that boy who kissed you in the rain. That's why you'll always love the someone who broke your heart and remember the someone who let you break theirs. That's why breakups still hurt and butterflies never go away, and even though we fall down so many times, we get back up and keep going. It's all for the sake of love.
Of course, we try to forget. We always do. It's human nature to hide your pain between layers of dirt whenever someone breaks your heart. But no matter how deep you dig, it will never be deep enough. Because deep down, beneath the soil and rocks and clay, that love--that radioactive mess of hopes and dreams--still burns. And as far as principles of physics go, we know that radioactive materials will decay little by little, even when there are only two atoms left, and then one. After that, the quantum particles of the lonely atom will start to break down until millions and millions of half-lives are passed and it's almost all gone but never completely, because that's not how the universe works.
Each and every one of us seven billion people living on the Earth has buried our love at some point in our lives. And I think it'd be safe to say that the Earth relies on the love we create, and that is why it preserves a portion of it day by day. That radioactive love we make is the reason why the flowers are so beautiful and the grass is so green and the snow is so white in the winter. Our world needs our love, buried in the dirt or sand or rocks for mother Earth to use as fuel to keep on living, to keep on dreaming and becoming. We need our love, too.
So after millions and millions of years, the world has become so full of true love and fake love, of lost love and found love, of happy love and sorrowing love and tough love and unconditional love and romantic love and unrequited love and brotherly love and lovely love and every other kind of love, of so many different kinds of love that maybe we'll say it's all just radioactive love, and that one day all that love is going to reach critical mass and light up this whole world in glitter and flames.
And I want to be there when that happens.
Because even when it's all over and only dust and dreams remain, love still just might.
And after all, love is what I live for.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Superpowers
In every book or movie in which a character possess magical or otherwise extraordinary ability, there always comes a point in the twists and turns of the plot where we find out exactly what it is.
In Harry Potter, the moment of truth comes right at the beginning. As Harry is on vacation with his aunt, uncle, and cousin, a large man named Hagrid breaks down the door to personally deliver the fateful letter inviting Mr. Potter to join the magical realm of wizards and learn magic at Hogwarts.
"You're a wizard, Harry."
"I'm a what?"
Harry soon discovers that all the strange things that have been happening around him--owls delivering millions of letters to his house, talking to snakes, and making glass disappear--are part of the fact that he has magical blood. Harry Potter is a wizard. And that is what makes him special.
In Fablehaven it is much the same. Used to living in a world of mythical creatures, fairies and demons and centaurs and satyrs, Kendra saves her grandparent's secret reserve for these magical beings time and time again. As the interbook plot thickens, Kendra starts to exhibit extraordinary abilities such as seeing in the dark and recharging magical objects. These abilities don't go unnamed:
"Kendra, you are fairykind. . . .Fairykind are known to radiate magical energy in a unique way." says the Sphinx.
And so another heroine becomes more than a person, becomes someone with a gift, a talent, a superpower, if you will.
Examples are many:
Percy Jackson is the son of an Olympian.
Anakin Skywalker is "the chosen one"
Frodo Baggins courageous takes the ring across the land on a quest while
Vin and Kelsier execute powers and abilities with their mistborn traits.
In every book, every story, every life ever recounted--no extraordinary thing goes undiscovered. If there is any good, it is exemplified. If there is any superpower, it is glorified. It makes us as readers wish we had superpowers, too.
But here's a secret.
We all do. And unlike fantasy, in real life, talents and gifts aren't discovered that way. We may never know the extent to which we are extraordinary. We may never realize that we are special at all. But in fact, we are. And we each have superpowers.
The ability to live and breathe and love and laugh is a superpower.
The will to dream and believe and choose to make things happen is a superpower.
In Harry Potter, the moment of truth comes right at the beginning. As Harry is on vacation with his aunt, uncle, and cousin, a large man named Hagrid breaks down the door to personally deliver the fateful letter inviting Mr. Potter to join the magical realm of wizards and learn magic at Hogwarts.
"You're a wizard, Harry."
"I'm a what?"
Harry soon discovers that all the strange things that have been happening around him--owls delivering millions of letters to his house, talking to snakes, and making glass disappear--are part of the fact that he has magical blood. Harry Potter is a wizard. And that is what makes him special.
In Fablehaven it is much the same. Used to living in a world of mythical creatures, fairies and demons and centaurs and satyrs, Kendra saves her grandparent's secret reserve for these magical beings time and time again. As the interbook plot thickens, Kendra starts to exhibit extraordinary abilities such as seeing in the dark and recharging magical objects. These abilities don't go unnamed:
"Kendra, you are fairykind. . . .Fairykind are known to radiate magical energy in a unique way." says the Sphinx.
And so another heroine becomes more than a person, becomes someone with a gift, a talent, a superpower, if you will.
Examples are many:
Percy Jackson is the son of an Olympian.
Anakin Skywalker is "the chosen one"
Frodo Baggins courageous takes the ring across the land on a quest while
Vin and Kelsier execute powers and abilities with their mistborn traits.
In every book, every story, every life ever recounted--no extraordinary thing goes undiscovered. If there is any good, it is exemplified. If there is any superpower, it is glorified. It makes us as readers wish we had superpowers, too.
But here's a secret.
We all do. And unlike fantasy, in real life, talents and gifts aren't discovered that way. We may never know the extent to which we are extraordinary. We may never realize that we are special at all. But in fact, we are. And we each have superpowers.
The ability to live and breathe and love and laugh is a superpower.
The will to dream and believe and choose to make things happen is a superpower.
Music and dance and sports and art and engineering and history and math are all superpowers.
To be able to love other people--family, friends, even strangers--and to connect a web of relationships throughout the entire globe is an incredible superpower we too often underestimate.
And even better than all these, is the greatest superpower of all: The light of Christ. It exists within each of us, makes us more than who we can be. If this isn't the definition of a superpower, what is?
Though we don't know everything and we don't always discover the extent to which we are amazing; though we aren't witches or wizards or jedis or fairy kind or demigods, we are something even better. We just have to trust in whatever that could be.
Friday, November 30, 2012
"I Hate Mold" Rant
I hate mold. I just hate it so much. I hate mold. Guys, I hate mold. I HATE MOLD! I hate it. I really do. It's creepy, it's everywhere. It comes like a rapist--open the cupboard and BAM IT'S THERE! I hate hate hate hate hate double-exclamation-point-HATE mold!!
I hate mold.
Mold gets on my bread, mold grows on my cheese, I had to check everything twice to make sure there wasn't any mold but that's the thing about it, it'll always show up when you THINK you've found it all. Mold grows on my hogies, my biscuits, my dinner rolls, and my freaking croissants. What does the mold want with my freaking croissants?
Mold hates me. It hates me very much. It's following me.
Mold could be anywhere. It could be on my poptart or in my popcorn or my crackers or in my cereal or baking soda or vegetables or the back of my refrigerator and guess what ELSE!? My hoooooonnneeeeyyyyy. What if mold could grow on my honey!??!?!?!?!? My life would be over. Ruined. Rejected by the good graces of the mold king, who i'm pretty sure lives in my cupboard because mold gets in everything after a few days. I HATE MOLD. I hate it I hate it I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate times infinity hate mold!
I hate mold. And do you wanna know WHY I hate it so much!? Because it's everywhere and I can't defrost more than half a loaf of bread at a time because the mold will start to grow and that means I have to cut out parts of the bread or just throw the whole thing away and if I do that then I won't be able to have my breakfast that ALWAYS consists of two pieces of toast with honey so if I don't have bread I don't have toast and if I don't have toast I don't have breakfast and if I don't have breakfast I might starve to death and die.
I don't want to die.
So there's the story. I just hate mold. I triple dog dare you to hate mold more than I hate it but that's not possible because I'm the hatiest. I just hate mold.
The End.
I hate mold.
Mold gets on my bread, mold grows on my cheese, I had to check everything twice to make sure there wasn't any mold but that's the thing about it, it'll always show up when you THINK you've found it all. Mold grows on my hogies, my biscuits, my dinner rolls, and my freaking croissants. What does the mold want with my freaking croissants?
Mold hates me. It hates me very much. It's following me.
Mold could be anywhere. It could be on my poptart or in my popcorn or my crackers or in my cereal or baking soda or vegetables or the back of my refrigerator and guess what ELSE!? My hoooooonnneeeeyyyyy. What if mold could grow on my honey!??!?!?!?!? My life would be over. Ruined. Rejected by the good graces of the mold king, who i'm pretty sure lives in my cupboard because mold gets in everything after a few days. I HATE MOLD. I hate it I hate it I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate times infinity hate mold!
I hate mold. And do you wanna know WHY I hate it so much!? Because it's everywhere and I can't defrost more than half a loaf of bread at a time because the mold will start to grow and that means I have to cut out parts of the bread or just throw the whole thing away and if I do that then I won't be able to have my breakfast that ALWAYS consists of two pieces of toast with honey so if I don't have bread I don't have toast and if I don't have toast I don't have breakfast and if I don't have breakfast I might starve to death and die.
I don't want to die.
So there's the story. I just hate mold. I triple dog dare you to hate mold more than I hate it but that's not possible because I'm the hatiest. I just hate mold.
The End.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Tears Are Good for the Soul
I believe tears are the essence of all the impurity within my soul. They represent the bitterness, the anger, the stress, the anxiety, the doubt, the self-pity, the sorrow, and the weakness. And with each tear I shed, my soul becomes a little emptier.
But this emptiness then makes room for me to fill the extra space with the things that make me stronger:
Family. Love. The gospel. Hope. Peace. Confidence. Encouragement. The will to try. The will to succeed. Endurance. Patience. Peace. Understanding. Acceptance.
The only challenge is when, in the moment after tears are shed, deciding to act and fill the space with good things instead of putting all the weakness back inside. It's a little scary to think that all the good the tears did for you can be undone with just one thought or one failure to act. Which is why today I decided something:
But this emptiness then makes room for me to fill the extra space with the things that make me stronger:
Family. Love. The gospel. Hope. Peace. Confidence. Encouragement. The will to try. The will to succeed. Endurance. Patience. Peace. Understanding. Acceptance.
The only challenge is when, in the moment after tears are shed, deciding to act and fill the space with good things instead of putting all the weakness back inside. It's a little scary to think that all the good the tears did for you can be undone with just one thought or one failure to act. Which is why today I decided something:
Thinking doesn't make it any better,
Doing does.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
One and The Same (But Unlike Any Other)
I have lived in Happy Valley practically my whole life. I moved to Orem when I was six, and went through all of my primary, secondary, and post-secondary education within a 10 mile radius. I fell in love with this place, this community, this very Mormon way of life. Some could say I'm trapped in the happy valley "bubble," but I don't perceive it as something to feel ashamed of or suffocated by. That said, the entire time I was growing up, I struggled with feeling unique and authentic. It took me several years to realize my divine individuality, but once I did, I stood fast to it. I know who I am. I feel unique and authentic and genuine and different and REAL. I am unlike any other girl anywhere, and nothing anyone says could shake that confidence.
But not everyone knows that. Since coming to BYU, I have heard several people say how the thing they don't like about this place is that everyone is the same. I even have a few friends who think that all the girls have the same styles of clothes, of hair, the same ideas and outlooks on life, the same desires and the same attitudes. No one is interesting and everyone is a clone of everyone else.
Every time I hear this, I am really offended by their shallow-mindedness. Because despite popular belief, girls here are not the same. But there is a reason people sometimes think that.
Here, in Provo, UT, we are completely surrounded by members of the church. Faithful, testimony-building people who constantly try to do the right things and become better and better people. In the scriptures, Christ commands us to "be like me." Christ wants everyone to become like Him. Everyone. JUST like him. In word, in deed, in attitude, in bravery, courage, love, light, strength, mercy, forgiveness, dignity, grace, beauty. He wants all of us to be able to "see [His] image" in our countenances. And this is what faithful Latter-day Saints strive for. This is what righteous girls at BYU seek after.
When we try to align our lives to live like Christ, we become one and the same. We have the same goals, the same desires, and the same light and attitude and strength and many other things. It's no wonder outsiders think we're all alike; it's because we are. In one sense. But in another, we are also all different. We have different personalities, different quirks and struggles and ideas and philosophies. We have different interests, different styles. Every girl at BYU is unlike any other, anywhere.
And I think that anyone who is too narrow-minded to see that is missing something.
***Post-Edit:
I just wanted to say that I am not in any way angry or annoyed at the people who have this "Provo girls are all the same" mentality. It's the mentality itself that bothers me, not the people. I believe that we are not a pure product of our ideas alone, and that ideas can be changed. I realize I tend to make a really big deal out of this issue, and that may be due to the fact that I'm still insecure about it. Honestly, I don't know if I'm really that unique, but I sure hope I am. I write so much about this topic because it's one that I have thought a lot on, that I have racked my brain over, and despite that, I still don't have all the answers. Maybe I am totally wrong. Maybe I'm just trying to defend my dreams of individuality. Maybe I just need to let this idea go and put it to rest. Either way, this is all that I am going to say about it. I'm sorry if I make anyone mad by how worked up I get. I'm just like you, trying to make sense of this crazy world of people and ideas and things and to survive the process. That's all. :)******
Monday, November 19, 2012
These FREAKING Retards!
................totally make my day. Like every day. :-)
Seriously, gooood times in Synthesis and Sectionals and serendipitous encounters in the HFAC and gigs with Alex Boye and facebook wars and just everything! The list goes on.
So.
Ben and Jory,
the "freaking retards"
(but really quite amazing)
keep on rocking.
:-)
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Quirky Things, Episode 1
I washed my hands in the testing center bathroom the other day. And when I went to grab a towel, I found this:
I just started laughing. :D
Seriously, I think they should put googly eyes on ALL the paper towel dispensers. Especially the testing center ones. just saying.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
This Means War
Every morning I wake up, suit up in armor, hop on my horse, and gallop to the HFAC to fight an epic battle to the death.
20 minutes scaling the walls of technical passages
10 minutes bombarding cane with my tongue
20 minutes of blasting Ferling etudes through my brain
25 contesting the concertino
and another 10 vaulting walls of partials and overtones.
I am driven back by the enemy time and time again, although each day I inch closer to the enemy line. 9/12 keys of scales mastered. Quarter note at 128 all-time high for tonguing. I'm on Ferling # 11 and 12, and polishing the Ibert with help from Rousseau. I destroyed the indestructible tower of overtones and now I soar gracefully over them each time I try. One victory down, more on its way.
Classically I make my rounds, then move into a new front: jazz.
I assault my chords, my sight-reading, my improvisation, and my dictation. Though the battle is uphill, I glory in moments my professor knocks at the practice room door and tells me to keep "playing strong." I fight for my life, my sanity, and my musical success. I glory in my triumphs and am set back only slightly by my failures. As the trench in my bottom lip would attest, I'm playing my chops off on a regular basis, and the war has never gone so well.
I make use of only the finest weaponry:
and only the best of comrades: Jory, Jeremy, Ben, Zach, Eric, Emily, Rachel, John, David.... the list goes on.
The enemy still lurks.
And perfection is still out of reach.
But the war has only begun.
Music Major, here I come.
"I am not trying to brag or anything... but I just broke my own personal record for number of days without dying."
-- Bridget Wilson, as well as BYU music majors everywhere
This is Brett.
He's my adopted brother from building three.
He's a DJ, a resident genius, insanely competitive (Once we had a "pointing" contest for two hours straight.), and absolutely hilarious and fun to be around.
What else can I say?
We're fam.
(this kid is awesome)
:)
You are Now Entering the Rant Zone.
First Year Writing.
*dramatic pause*
There could NEVER be enough said. I hate it from the depths of my very soul. With a fiery, burning passion that threatens to consume my sanity and overthrow all self-restraint. Honestly, the course was invented by Satan to infect the otherwise pure BYU education system. I should have dropped it when I had the chance. I knew right off the bat it wasn't going to be pleasant, but I stayed anyway. it's too late to fail now, but I'm giving it my best shot.
I just hate whole idea of "glorifying community."
My teacher belongs to an unofficial guild of writers and thinkers who are overly obsessed with life-changing experiences and the power of words. She has us go out to an assigned "site" in Provo, and literally experience it. As in, show up and wait for some grand spiritual manifestation of intellectual and cultural brilliance. Then we write a paper about it. Lather, rinse, repeat three more times, and boom. Our lives are forever changed. Supposedly.
I really think that people these days make way too big a deal out of
Oh, but I get it. She's just trying to get us to expand our opportunities and enhance our relationships with our community. I get it; she's just trying to help us become better thinkers, and better writers about the topics we think about. I get it; she's just trying to give us an appreciation of words and awareness.
There are plenty of people who live their lives happily and fulfillingly without ever branching out and "experiencing" a larger community. Those kinds of things happen spontaneously, without outside intervention. As Naomi Shihab Nye puts it,
"You can't order a poem like you order a taco."
Well, the same goes for life-changing experiences, (and good attitudes. I apologize for my cynicism)
Enough of that. On to happy things!
You are now leaving the Rant Zone.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
It's Been Another Week, But it's Fine :)
I have a confession to make.
Sometimes, I think I am above trials. I think I shouldn't have to deal with stress from classes or from practicing or from having a busy schedule. The way I figure, people are starving in Africa or fighting a deadly disease or watching their families fall apart. Why should I complain about having a certain English assignment or whine about being required to practice 10 hours a week? I mean, I'm above that, aren't I?
This week I learned that the answer, unquestionably, and invariably, is no.
I was so grumpy this past week. (Just ask Cambry. She'll tell ya. :D)
I was buckling under the weight of having a part-time job, taking 14.5 credits, and desperately needing to practice my instrument. I was procrastinating my homework to where I had to call in "sick" for work, and for the life of me I could not come to terms with any spiritual sense of peace. I felt lost, but as I examined and reexamined my life, I could not come up with a valid reason for why I felt the way I did. The list of things I was having a hard time with seemed too flimsy for me to accept. Instead of coming to terms with the fact that I was stressing about school, I moped through my week trying to juggle my stress with my pride.
After breaking down Thursday night, I finally realized my mistake.
I have trials because I am human. Not because I create them from being weak, not because I'm not strong enough to handle the apocalypse in the form of human trial. I struggle because I, like everyone else, am not perfect. I do have a divine destiny, but in order to reach that potential, I need to go through certain experiences and struggle with certain things. So regardless of how "silly" or "small" I may classify my challenges to be in comparison to others, that does not diminish the extent to which I struggle with them.
Being stressed about school is NOT beneath me. Not wanting to practice is not a federal offense. Having a hard time with feelings of jealously or incompetence for not pushing myself is a completely valid reason to feel the things I did. I am no better than anyone else, and therefore, I have no right to think that what I am going through isn't challenging enough in comparison to what someone else may be going through, to be conducive to the person I esteem myself to be, and to one day become.
I am doing fine just the way I am. :)
Since that realization, I have been doing and feeling so much better, and I wonder if sometimes we all go through phases like that. Phases where we see a trial approaching and just think, "There's no way that flimsy thing is going to be for me." And then it is. And then we look down on ourselves a little more for it, but it's fine. :) Eventually we come to terms with it. Some might even embrace it (saintly souls). I guess the thing to remember is just that no matter what comes at you, it's fine. You're not above it, and you can make it through.
Life is good. :)
Sometimes, I think I am above trials. I think I shouldn't have to deal with stress from classes or from practicing or from having a busy schedule. The way I figure, people are starving in Africa or fighting a deadly disease or watching their families fall apart. Why should I complain about having a certain English assignment or whine about being required to practice 10 hours a week? I mean, I'm above that, aren't I?
This week I learned that the answer, unquestionably, and invariably, is no.
I was so grumpy this past week. (Just ask Cambry. She'll tell ya. :D)
I was buckling under the weight of having a part-time job, taking 14.5 credits, and desperately needing to practice my instrument. I was procrastinating my homework to where I had to call in "sick" for work, and for the life of me I could not come to terms with any spiritual sense of peace. I felt lost, but as I examined and reexamined my life, I could not come up with a valid reason for why I felt the way I did. The list of things I was having a hard time with seemed too flimsy for me to accept. Instead of coming to terms with the fact that I was stressing about school, I moped through my week trying to juggle my stress with my pride.
After breaking down Thursday night, I finally realized my mistake.
I have trials because I am human. Not because I create them from being weak, not because I'm not strong enough to handle the apocalypse in the form of human trial. I struggle because I, like everyone else, am not perfect. I do have a divine destiny, but in order to reach that potential, I need to go through certain experiences and struggle with certain things. So regardless of how "silly" or "small" I may classify my challenges to be in comparison to others, that does not diminish the extent to which I struggle with them.
Being stressed about school is NOT beneath me. Not wanting to practice is not a federal offense. Having a hard time with feelings of jealously or incompetence for not pushing myself is a completely valid reason to feel the things I did. I am no better than anyone else, and therefore, I have no right to think that what I am going through isn't challenging enough in comparison to what someone else may be going through, to be conducive to the person I esteem myself to be, and to one day become.
I am doing fine just the way I am. :)
Since that realization, I have been doing and feeling so much better, and I wonder if sometimes we all go through phases like that. Phases where we see a trial approaching and just think, "There's no way that flimsy thing is going to be for me." And then it is. And then we look down on ourselves a little more for it, but it's fine. :) Eventually we come to terms with it. Some might even embrace it (saintly souls). I guess the thing to remember is just that no matter what comes at you, it's fine. You're not above it, and you can make it through.
Life is good. :)
I Just Love This So Much
I know what you're thinking. "Really, another music post?"
the answer is YES!
and you must must must listen to my favorite song in the world right now! It just makes me want to cry with happiness. :) :)
Seriously, I am calling dibs on this for my future wedding. It is just so adorable. :)
And of course, I have another playlist (and look! I figured out how to make a grooveshark playlist embed-able!) My favorites are Happier and Yellow Shirt. ;D Just in case you wanted to listen to those too.
Have a wonderful day!
the answer is YES!
and you must must must listen to my favorite song in the world right now! It just makes me want to cry with happiness. :) :)
Seriously, I am calling dibs on this for my future wedding. It is just so adorable. :)
And of course, I have another playlist (and look! I figured out how to make a grooveshark playlist embed-able!) My favorites are Happier and Yellow Shirt. ;D Just in case you wanted to listen to those too.
Have a wonderful day!
Friday, September 7, 2012
A La Carte
Don't you wish you could just pick and choose which things were on your mind at certain times? Kinda like at a restaurant, where you have the choice to order big things, small things, combos, or nothing at all. I can see it working out perfectly, can't you? See, right now, my menu would look something like this:
Attempts at Being a Writer - $9.99 Here comes round 293485792. I decided (again) that I'm going to try out this writing thing. During my (VERY) short-lived vacation from this blog, I found some words inside of me which I'm determined to get out and about. But brace yourself. I'm one of those philosophical types. It's not going to be one of those inspirational teenage heart-to-hearts or anything, so.... just warning you now. :)
A Farewell to Laziness - $7.99 For when you just need to set some goals for your academic career at BYU. It's been two weeks of classes, and I think I've just decided that I never want to show up to class unprepared, ever. It's a horrible experience, and just another sign of my immaturity (we'll talk about that later). Maybe back in high school I could get away with it, but then again, everybody did it back then. Here I'm surrounded by top-of-the class, 4.0 students. Everybody studies and tries to learn and comes to class prepared. I feel like the slacker of my freshman class, which is weird because I somehow managed to earn the distinction of valedictorian at the end of last year. Go figure. So, I'm deciding to say farewell to my laziness and procrastinatory tendencies.
Practicing for my Life (and sanity) - $11.99 I am both nervous and excited about being a music major. I used to be much more nervous than I am now, however, because before, I didn't know if being a music major was the right thing for me to do, or if it would even work out. Back when I was freaking out (which I did quite a lot, as you can guess), my biggest fear was that I was going to be entirely unmotivated. Personal drive, for me, is something I've struggled with, since I'm not one of those work-your-way-to-success stories. Rather, I'm one of those never-had-to-work-hard-a-day-in-her-life-but-succeeded-anyway stories. (I know. You can hate me. I really did work, it just felt like I didn't so I never complained about it.) College, I knew, is NOT a place natural talent can just float you through. You actually DO have to be motivated, and I was scared to death that I wasn't going to have the motivation necessary to succeed here. Turns out, that very fear is what gave me that motivation. I am absolutely scared to death of sucking. Therefore, I'm practicing. I'm practicing so I won't sound terrible, as well as for all those other altruistic purposes like saving the world through music, and stuff.
Just Dinner - $3.99 So I cooked dinner the other day. And it was actually edible! Aren't you proud of me? I get to do it again, and again, and again, and I'm pretty sure every time I'm going to be surprised it worked.
Sweating the Small Stuff - $8.99 Sometimes I take advice about BYU way too seriously. So seriously it's practically commandment. "Thou shalt spend as much time on campus as humanly possible. Thou shalt date a lot and invite boys over to your apartment so you can pretend to be cultured. Thou shalt be as involved in the community as you can, otherwise you live under a rock." So, that's a lot of pressure, but what if I don't wanna live under a rock! My solution is just doing my best. Like, last night we had some starving boys over for dinner, and right now I'm sitting outside of the McKay building pretending to study.
Over-appreciating the World - $4.99 Yes, it's possible. Whenever I see a kid walking around with a boom box over his shoulder like back in the 80's or notice a cute couple holding hands or walk along a nature path and notice a pretty flower, I have to fight the urge to take a picture, jot a note, or create a minute-by-minute update of why my life is so wonderful and the world so beautiful and the small things so appreciable. I mean, I know they say we should appreciate the little things in life, but I'm like micro-analyzing this.
Personally, if I were to glance down this menu, I wouldn't take any of this. I'd stand up, walk outside, and look for the nearest Panda Express.
But--and here's the catch--somewhere between now and back when I decided to start thinking like an individual instead of a mindless teenage zombie, all 7 entrees ended up on my plate. ALL SEVEN.
It leaves me thinking, seriously, who ordered this stuff?!
Sure as heaven wasn't me.
Brittney's Brain Cafe
Ultimate Fail - $6.99. That moment when you just wanna say, Agh! Like today, how I almost got asked on a date TWICE, and by two different people. But both times, my plans were screwed up by my own social or antisocial endeavors, that is, going to the rooftop concert with fictionist instead of (possibly) going on a date with a dashing young fellow, and working during the football game. Agh!Attempts at Being a Writer - $9.99 Here comes round 293485792. I decided (again) that I'm going to try out this writing thing. During my (VERY) short-lived vacation from this blog, I found some words inside of me which I'm determined to get out and about. But brace yourself. I'm one of those philosophical types. It's not going to be one of those inspirational teenage heart-to-hearts or anything, so.... just warning you now. :)
A Farewell to Laziness - $7.99 For when you just need to set some goals for your academic career at BYU. It's been two weeks of classes, and I think I've just decided that I never want to show up to class unprepared, ever. It's a horrible experience, and just another sign of my immaturity (we'll talk about that later). Maybe back in high school I could get away with it, but then again, everybody did it back then. Here I'm surrounded by top-of-the class, 4.0 students. Everybody studies and tries to learn and comes to class prepared. I feel like the slacker of my freshman class, which is weird because I somehow managed to earn the distinction of valedictorian at the end of last year. Go figure. So, I'm deciding to say farewell to my laziness and procrastinatory tendencies.
Practicing for my Life (and sanity) - $11.99 I am both nervous and excited about being a music major. I used to be much more nervous than I am now, however, because before, I didn't know if being a music major was the right thing for me to do, or if it would even work out. Back when I was freaking out (which I did quite a lot, as you can guess), my biggest fear was that I was going to be entirely unmotivated. Personal drive, for me, is something I've struggled with, since I'm not one of those work-your-way-to-success stories. Rather, I'm one of those never-had-to-work-hard-a-day-in-her-life-but-succeeded-anyway stories. (I know. You can hate me. I really did work, it just felt like I didn't so I never complained about it.) College, I knew, is NOT a place natural talent can just float you through. You actually DO have to be motivated, and I was scared to death that I wasn't going to have the motivation necessary to succeed here. Turns out, that very fear is what gave me that motivation. I am absolutely scared to death of sucking. Therefore, I'm practicing. I'm practicing so I won't sound terrible, as well as for all those other altruistic purposes like saving the world through music, and stuff.
Just Dinner - $3.99 So I cooked dinner the other day. And it was actually edible! Aren't you proud of me? I get to do it again, and again, and again, and I'm pretty sure every time I'm going to be surprised it worked.
Sweating the Small Stuff - $8.99 Sometimes I take advice about BYU way too seriously. So seriously it's practically commandment. "Thou shalt spend as much time on campus as humanly possible. Thou shalt date a lot and invite boys over to your apartment so you can pretend to be cultured. Thou shalt be as involved in the community as you can, otherwise you live under a rock." So, that's a lot of pressure, but what if I don't wanna live under a rock! My solution is just doing my best. Like, last night we had some starving boys over for dinner, and right now I'm sitting outside of the McKay building pretending to study.
Over-appreciating the World - $4.99 Yes, it's possible. Whenever I see a kid walking around with a boom box over his shoulder like back in the 80's or notice a cute couple holding hands or walk along a nature path and notice a pretty flower, I have to fight the urge to take a picture, jot a note, or create a minute-by-minute update of why my life is so wonderful and the world so beautiful and the small things so appreciable. I mean, I know they say we should appreciate the little things in life, but I'm like micro-analyzing this.
****************************************************************************
Personally, if I were to glance down this menu, I wouldn't take any of this. I'd stand up, walk outside, and look for the nearest Panda Express.
But--and here's the catch--somewhere between now and back when I decided to start thinking like an individual instead of a mindless teenage zombie, all 7 entrees ended up on my plate. ALL SEVEN.
It leaves me thinking, seriously, who ordered this stuff?!
Sure as heaven wasn't me.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Don't Ask Me What This Was
I wrote it for my English class. I don't know... Can you tell I'm feeling pessimistic about this whole English-language-as-an-art thing lately?
Because I totally am. True Story.
"I am not a heap of adjectives. I am not a hunk of prose. I am not a poem, or a song, or a story, or a blog post, or an encyclopedia entry. What I am is a soul. A girl who refuses to be defined by the way I write or by the words I speak, but rather by the way I live. Music, people, and the gospel are the three most important things in my life, and with that, perhaps you could say that I write simply because I have no better reason to.
I was once one of those writers who would hand-pick words for hours just to show my English teacher that I was the one with the most beautiful bouquet. I didn’t care what I wrote or what my words said—As long as they sounded pretty, witty, or otherwise intelligent, I stamped my name at the top of the paper, sent it off to the basket, and waited for that cute little “A” to appear a few days later. It was all about the grade, and so for years I wrote in a way that would earn me the most points or allow the universe to smile down on me for what I considered to be my noble contribution to that vast and ever-increasing collection of thoughts and words.
It was all going perfectly well… That is, until I realized one important fact. Writing isn’t a self-existent art. To write for writing’s sake will always be a futile endeavor, because until something or someone comes along to give it meaning, words are dead. Language is really only a tool we use to describe the things that really matter: people, experiences, feelings, ideas.
These days, I prefer to write what matters. While for so long I have been accustomed to writing for the grade, I am now more fully committed to write only what matters to me. I write for myself, for my family, for my friends and my peers. I write to record the thoughts in my head and to comment on the little things nobody else notices. I write to keep myself sane, but to encourage insanity in other people. I also write to discover the real reason I write. While I’ll deny any claims that words can somehow describe the person I consider myself to be, I do admit that I describe words as a river that lives inside of me—flowing, shaping, and changing me until one of these days, I might actually understand a bit of what I’m talking about."
Because I totally am. True Story.
"I am not a heap of adjectives. I am not a hunk of prose. I am not a poem, or a song, or a story, or a blog post, or an encyclopedia entry. What I am is a soul. A girl who refuses to be defined by the way I write or by the words I speak, but rather by the way I live. Music, people, and the gospel are the three most important things in my life, and with that, perhaps you could say that I write simply because I have no better reason to.
I was once one of those writers who would hand-pick words for hours just to show my English teacher that I was the one with the most beautiful bouquet. I didn’t care what I wrote or what my words said—As long as they sounded pretty, witty, or otherwise intelligent, I stamped my name at the top of the paper, sent it off to the basket, and waited for that cute little “A” to appear a few days later. It was all about the grade, and so for years I wrote in a way that would earn me the most points or allow the universe to smile down on me for what I considered to be my noble contribution to that vast and ever-increasing collection of thoughts and words.
It was all going perfectly well… That is, until I realized one important fact. Writing isn’t a self-existent art. To write for writing’s sake will always be a futile endeavor, because until something or someone comes along to give it meaning, words are dead. Language is really only a tool we use to describe the things that really matter: people, experiences, feelings, ideas.
These days, I prefer to write what matters. While for so long I have been accustomed to writing for the grade, I am now more fully committed to write only what matters to me. I write for myself, for my family, for my friends and my peers. I write to record the thoughts in my head and to comment on the little things nobody else notices. I write to keep myself sane, but to encourage insanity in other people. I also write to discover the real reason I write. While I’ll deny any claims that words can somehow describe the person I consider myself to be, I do admit that I describe words as a river that lives inside of me—flowing, shaping, and changing me until one of these days, I might actually understand a bit of what I’m talking about."
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Dear Boys. -_-
***Disclaimer: The following does not apply to The Amazings, namely, Landon, Adam, Xane, Garrett, Dallin J, and Nick :) You five typically restore my faith in humanity. Thank you!****
AS for the rest of you.......
Dear Boys,
Did you know that we girls slam your entire species for stupidity on a regular basis?
And wring the tears from our eyes with the crushed hope we placed in you to BE THERE, to listen?
Maybe you should change something about that.
I mean, how hard is it to type "hey," and push "send"?
Gosh.
Love,
Girls
****Post-Edit: Nate and Sheldon have now officially been added to the list of boys who also qualify as exceptions to the aforementioned criticisms. Congrats, fellas. If that is a congratulation. :)****
AS for the rest of you.......
Dear Boys,
Did you know that we girls slam your entire species for stupidity on a regular basis?
And wring the tears from our eyes with the crushed hope we placed in you to BE THERE, to listen?
Maybe you should change something about that.
I mean, how hard is it to type "hey," and push "send"?
Gosh.
Love,
Girls
****Post-Edit: Nate and Sheldon have now officially been added to the list of boys who also qualify as exceptions to the aforementioned criticisms. Congrats, fellas. If that is a congratulation. :)****
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Today
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Living on my own is different than I thought it would be.
For one thing, it feels a lot like EFY. You know, trolling BYU campus with a hoard of freshman, terrorizing the bookstore, the creamery, and the volleyball pit, and partyin' it up Mo-town style.
For another, though I'm not living at home, I don't feel "on my own." Though I've been living here three days, already I've realized that I am not, nor ever will be, alone.
I have the best roommate and best friend in the world, a wonderful mom who will let me call her 20 minutes before church or late at night, incredible friends who unexpectedly and unabashedly stand by me even as I add another broken heart to the collection, and a loving Heavenly Father who patiently waits for me as I try to climb the mountain to where He's at.
Today is August 26th, and today I am not alone.
:)
Monday, August 20, 2012
Giggin' Gal
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| Randal Clark, Mark Robinette, Howard Summers, and myself at the USANA conference August 18th |
So I got offered my first legitamate gig a couple weeks ago!
(*Gig: musician lingo for "you play, you get money").
It's kind of a big deal... So of course I was like, "heck yeah!"
So last Saturday I carpooled up to the Energy Solutions Arena with Mr. Summers and the Jordan-High-Guy, Randal. We showed up, rehearsed, got mics and sound packs (I felt like a superstar with those things clipped on to the back of my pants. And let me tell ya, I was rockin' that Hannah Montana style there for a second.), and then pranced around the stage while playing one short song. Can I just say, SCORE!
In addition to the thrill of feeling like a professional, it was a cool first experience because we basically got paid 300 bucks to............
- Test drive Mustangs and Scion FR-S's
- Walk around City Creek Center mall and visit Deseret Book (which was, believably, awkward with two grown men)
- Eat McDonalds fruit parfaits
- Play on stage with David Osmond at the USANA convention.
In short... It rocked.
And I am now, officially, a Giggin' Gal. :)
It's not a disaster zone here, what are you talking about?
So, supposedly I'm moving out in two days to go live on campus while I attend BYU.
Obviously I'm totally prepared.
I looked at my room today and I was like,
uhhhhhhhhhhh...........
Monday, August 13, 2012
Classic.
See that girl, right there, in the purple? That's me. :)
And see that boy, right there, in the yellow?
We kissed. When we were six. How classic is that?
Oh, those kindergarten days... we had such good times... "Teddy Bear" and Star Wars and salsa and trampolines... Things have really changed since then, haven't they?
Thursday, August 9, 2012
For the Sake of Blogging
It doesn't feel like I've blogged--for real--in a long while.
I guess the reason for that is that I've run fresh out of ideas. I'm like a river run dry, and as we're coming up on the end of the summer, I think that analogy is pretty appropriate.
I just don't think anymore. My brain is going to get quite the shock once school hits--I don't mind though because I've been looking forward to college since I started kindergarten. But hey--there's something to talk about.
I'm not afraid of college. I'm not afraid of moving out and living on my own. I'm not nervous for my classes, I'm not hesitant about being in a new ward or meeting new people or being thrown into an entirely different environment than I've ever experienced before. I'm not afraid, but that's exactly what I'm afraid of.
See, I really don't know what college IS. I've never been there, never experienced it. No amount of advice or number of campus tours is going to prepare me for what's going to come. All I know is that it is going to be the best experience of my life, and I just want to make sure I get the most out of it that I possibly can. So.... bring on the wardies! Bring on the classes, the homework, the professors! Bring on the stress and the money trouble--see if I can't handle it! Bring it all on! (Well, except for the boys. I don't need no college cooties from college cuties! Or at least.... not yet. ;D hahaha)
In other news, I am officially the WORST at the following activities:
- practicing
- upselling
- diplomacy
- meaningful blogging
Also, I just had a man on the phone tell me he wanted to use Grapefruit oil to get rid of the cellulite on his butt. At first I was like, "uummmm...." but then he started laughing and telling me about how he liked to use Elevation as cologne so he could walk around smelling like flowers.
He was obviously a sarcastic fat man from Hawaii.
Finally, LOOK!
I guess the reason for that is that I've run fresh out of ideas. I'm like a river run dry, and as we're coming up on the end of the summer, I think that analogy is pretty appropriate.
I just don't think anymore. My brain is going to get quite the shock once school hits--I don't mind though because I've been looking forward to college since I started kindergarten. But hey--there's something to talk about.
I'm not afraid of college. I'm not afraid of moving out and living on my own. I'm not nervous for my classes, I'm not hesitant about being in a new ward or meeting new people or being thrown into an entirely different environment than I've ever experienced before. I'm not afraid, but that's exactly what I'm afraid of.
See, I really don't know what college IS. I've never been there, never experienced it. No amount of advice or number of campus tours is going to prepare me for what's going to come. All I know is that it is going to be the best experience of my life, and I just want to make sure I get the most out of it that I possibly can. So.... bring on the wardies! Bring on the classes, the homework, the professors! Bring on the stress and the money trouble--see if I can't handle it! Bring it all on! (Well, except for the boys. I don't need no college cooties from college cuties! Or at least.... not yet. ;D hahaha)
In other news, I am officially the WORST at the following activities:
- practicing
- upselling
- diplomacy
- meaningful blogging
Also, I just had a man on the phone tell me he wanted to use Grapefruit oil to get rid of the cellulite on his butt. At first I was like, "uummmm...." but then he started laughing and telling me about how he liked to use Elevation as cologne so he could walk around smelling like flowers.
He was obviously a sarcastic fat man from Hawaii.
Finally, LOOK!
I'm officially professional at the following activities:
- Blokus
- Time-wasting
- Avatar-watching
- pointless blogging
It's a good life.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
What I've Been Up To
It's finished! My composition that for months was only a work-in-progress is finally finished! And I couldn't be more excited!
So please, take a listen and tell me what you think! :D
(p.s. those weird noises in the background? that's Brevin. He was doing sound effects for me.)
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Seven for the Eighteenth
I am completely, absolutely, and unabashedly in love with these songs.
Music is the core of my existence, and something I really love to do is hit up grooveshark or pandora to discover new, fun music (a practice I highly recommend!). And just look at all these gems I've found!
I went through all the trouble of putting them here because I want you to love them, too. :)
Happy listening!
2. Sweet Serendipity by Lee DeWyze
3. Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson
4. Prove You Wrong by He is We
5. Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute
6. Love Sucks by Nathan Angelo
7. It's Gotta Be Love by Lee DeWyze
Monday, July 16, 2012
The LEGIT Bucket List
Fact: I am a list person.
Seriously, I'll make a list for everything. And that goes beyond groceries and to-do lists. Sometimes I even venture so far as to post a kissing bucket list on a semi-public blog. That incident leads to....
Further fact: If you want people to think you're normal, don't announce your first kiss in the form of a bucket list, thereby implying that all you want to do with the rest of your life is kiss people in crazy and sometimes unromantic ways. Not the brightest idea.
But, lucky for ME, all that happened a few months ago. And after enduring all those, "wow, THAT wasn't obvious," and "sssuuuubbbtttllleee, Britt" comments, I decided I would someday redeem myself by posting my for-reals bucket list. Just to prove I'm not running around kissing all day (or at all, actually. Thank goodness for that!).
So, as promised (to myself) here's my original, legitimate bucket list. The reason it's small is because it's not one of those bucket lists where you just add random funny stuff for the sake of adding random funny stuff. No, believe me, I will not rest before I accomplish the few following items. here it is.
1. Order a happy meal with extra happy :) :)
2. Take a hobo to chuck-a-rama
3. Cry while performing the saxophone
4. Win a game of ERS (aka "slap," "Egyptian Rat Race/Screw")
5. Participate in a flash mob
And that's all I want to do with my life. If I accomplish those five things, I'll die happy.
True story.
Seriously, I'll make a list for everything. And that goes beyond groceries and to-do lists. Sometimes I even venture so far as to post a kissing bucket list on a semi-public blog. That incident leads to....
Further fact: If you want people to think you're normal, don't announce your first kiss in the form of a bucket list, thereby implying that all you want to do with the rest of your life is kiss people in crazy and sometimes unromantic ways. Not the brightest idea.
But, lucky for ME, all that happened a few months ago. And after enduring all those, "wow, THAT wasn't obvious," and "sssuuuubbbtttllleee, Britt" comments, I decided I would someday redeem myself by posting my for-reals bucket list. Just to prove I'm not running around kissing all day (or at all, actually. Thank goodness for that!).
So, as promised (to myself) here's my original, legitimate bucket list. The reason it's small is because it's not one of those bucket lists where you just add random funny stuff for the sake of adding random funny stuff. No, believe me, I will not rest before I accomplish the few following items. here it is.
1. Order a happy meal with extra happy :) :)
2. Take a hobo to chuck-a-rama
3. Cry while performing the saxophone
4. Win a game of ERS (aka "slap," "Egyptian Rat Race/Screw")
5. Participate in a flash mob
And that's all I want to do with my life. If I accomplish those five things, I'll die happy.
True story.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Right Now 7/12 7:52 a.m.
It doesn't make sense for me to be so... disheveled. I feel like I'm all over the place, and it's only Thursday on what's supposed to be the clearest and smoothest week of the month!
I don't know what it is. I'm quickly irritated, prone to be snappy. I'm also probably stressed and irrational. I'm not thinking the most clearly, and my whole body is filled with some sort of anxiety or fear that kept me from falling asleep last night. My only guess at what could be is either work--it is my very first week on the phones, after all--or else it could be boys. My conscience is tugging at me and I can't figure out why, all of a sudden, it's freaking out on me.
Oh, guys, guess what? I got up at 7 today. Something must be wrong........ ;P
Well, enough of my pathetic ranting. In other news, I officially have a second job! I work at Summerhays all day on Saturdays. Accssories, boo yah! :D
(and don't get all *ooooohhhhh* on me there. I'm actually really excited about Summerhays, and it's not what's got me all strung up. :P)
Also, I went and saw Snow White and the Huntsman last night with Cambry and Sabrina. It was such a blast!! The three of us need to do things together more often. :) The movie was great, too, although it wasn't my favorite. Do you know what movie IS my favorite?????
I don't know what it is. I'm quickly irritated, prone to be snappy. I'm also probably stressed and irrational. I'm not thinking the most clearly, and my whole body is filled with some sort of anxiety or fear that kept me from falling asleep last night. My only guess at what could be is either work--it is my very first week on the phones, after all--or else it could be boys. My conscience is tugging at me and I can't figure out why, all of a sudden, it's freaking out on me.
Oh, guys, guess what? I got up at 7 today. Something must be wrong........ ;P
Well, enough of my pathetic ranting. In other news, I officially have a second job! I work at Summerhays all day on Saturdays. Accssories, boo yah! :D
(and don't get all *ooooohhhhh* on me there. I'm actually really excited about Summerhays, and it's not what's got me all strung up. :P)
Also, I went and saw Snow White and the Huntsman last night with Cambry and Sabrina. It was such a blast!! The three of us need to do things together more often. :) The movie was great, too, although it wasn't my favorite. Do you know what movie IS my favorite?????
BEST. MOVIE. EVER!!!!!!
And it's NOT just because I may or may not be totally in love with this handsome man.........
okay. maybe it is. ;)
I mean, come on. Look at him!
Adorable.
No, but seriously. Go see it.
:D
Monday, July 9, 2012
Late for Work
It's my first day of work on the phones. No more training, I'm ready to be out tackling calls and helping our IPCs with whatever they need done! :) I have some time before work at 1, so Cambry and I are out doing something fun together.
Cambry and I drive through what looks a lot like Riverwoods. We must be in England or something, because she drives, but she's on the right side of the car. But it's no big deal because we're talking, laughing, and just having a good old time until I look at the clock and it reads 1:19.
You know that feeling of horrible dread, that just sweeps straight through your body and settles in the pit of your stomach? That feeling that makes your eyes go wide and your body start to shiver and say silly things like, "OH MY GOSH MY DAD'S GONNA KILL ME!!!"
Yep. That's what came over me just then. It was 1:19 and I was supposed to be at work 30 minutes ago. That's a problem.
So I frantically start talking to Cambry. "I have GOT to get to doterra! I am soo late, I don't know how that happened!" I scream. I have no idea what I was going to do, but next thing I know, I'm out of the car and sprinting for the doterra building.
At first when I get inside, I'm all disoriented. It looks like the inside of the Dixie Convention Center, and for some reason I have no idea where I'm going. I wander around for a bit before I realize I'm in the wrong place. I'm supposed to be at the call center, but here I am wandering around in the executives' building! I hurry and run for the exit to the building, but somehow I manage to get lost. All around me I see office memos asking everyone if they've seen me and my lipgloss. They know I didn't show for work, and now they're looking for me! I have to get to to work as fast as I can....
Finally I reach the edge of the building, where it suddenly drops off to a blackish-purple abyss. You know, like in video games and stuff, where you can jump off and the game "resets" you back to the start? Well I stared right into that blackish-purple abyss, and I thought to myself, "If I'm going to get to work, I'm going to have to jump."
Somehow I had it in my mind that I was going to reset once I jumped into an extremely strange and untrustworthy blackish-purple abyss. And as I took one last look around me, I flung myself off the edge and began screaming for my life.
Butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies. Oh, and complete and utter darkness.
 |
| Me, jumping off the building into the abyss of certain death. Minus the Mario Suit, mustache, and protective bubble. |
I fell longer than I should have. I fell until the butterflies went away and all I could feel was a cushion of air around me as I spiraled to my doom. By then I realized that I had not "resetted" like I planned, and I was instead about to crash into the ground and die. I saw a vague image to the side of me. It grew larger and brighter as I began to focus, but everything was spinning. Why was everything spinning?
Just as I was thinking, "this is it.....!" and preparing myself for the afterlife, I opened my eyes.
My bedroom walls were there to greet me, welcoming me back from the scariest dream of my life.
I think I had to check the time three times before I actually believed that it was only a dream. :P
Friday, June 29, 2012
Bear Lake!
Here are some highlights from the week:
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| Just arrived at the cabin! |
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| Hot tubbing!! |
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| Playing games at the cabin. |
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| I have gorgeous best friends. Cambry looks like a beach model! :D |
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| And here's Sabrina! Looking amazing, as always. :D |
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| We're professionals. |
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| "The King's Castle" |
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| "Repunzel's Castle" |
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| The "Evil" Castle |
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| She's a superhero! |
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| Just chillin' at the beach. :) Eating cookies. |
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| Sabrina and Cambry out boating! |
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| We rented a surrey!! :D fun fun fun |
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| ...and stopped for pictures! Three besties |
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| BFFs!! :D |
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| On the count of three, turn around!!! (tNote the increasing levels of inappropriate "flaunt your butt"ness.... ;P) |
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| The kids, just after biking |
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| We visited Minnetonka Cave (as you can see) and it was WAY cool! |
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| Just before the entrance |
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| Our family |
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| We're sorta crazy :) |
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