J-O-B

I have had a job since I was 16. First it was a sandwich shop, next a tuxedo shop, and finally Best Buy. Every job I have had has been about WHO I know, and not so much of WHAT I know. The sub shop, my brother’s girlfriend at the time worked there, and he was friends with the manager. The tux shop, my best friend worked there and they needed more help. And finally Best Buy, my brother once again (man I love him) worked there and my family became friends with not only the manager over the position I was hired to, but the general manager of the store. When I arrived at college I was afraid that I would not get a job because of my lack of contacts. I obtained a job working at the football games, but I realized I needed something with more hours and less rude fans. Once again WHO I knew came in handy! I applied to work at the creamery close to my dorm room, and had a reference from one of my roommates. Worried for weeks that I wouldn’t get a job, the roommate would tell me she had been praying about it and she just KNEW that I would get a job. Finally I received a phone call from the hiring manager and I set up an interview for 6:40 that evening. The interview went well, I answered to the best of my abilities accompanied with my biggest, best smile, and was told and the end that I would be contacted in two days to know whether or not I received the position. At 9:40 I got another phone call. The manager wanted to talk to me about some things and asked if I could return to the creamery. I walked in and she simply told me that I should have to wait two days when she already knew she wanted to hire me!!! I WAS SO EXCITED!! It was an answer to prayers that I got this job. I need to help my parents pay for school and housing, not to mention having more spending money for necessities (wants are the furthest things from my mind!). I start training on Tuesday and I start working next semester. Come to find out the roommate that I will now be working with knew for those three excruciating weeks that I would get the job; she just wasn’t allowed to say. I’m so excited to have a good job again! I love working with people, and who knows, dishing ice cream might not be so bad.

Classic Skating

When first announced in church that the ward would have an activity to go to Classic Skating, a flood door was opened and memories of my childhood began rushing in. When I was in 5th and 6th grade, Classic Skating was THE hang out spot. After Mom’s dropped you off you would spend a night of roller blading fun! Not to mention the butterflies that would come alive in your abdomen when a “snowball” song was played and you held hands and skated with a handsome stranger. I giggle at these memories, because as a 5th grader you really couldn’t appreciate a handsome stranger. Finally the day came to return to Classic Skating. The carpet that glowed in the black light, the smooth surface of the rink, and the disco ball as the center of the arena was a familiar location of long past memories. The night was so much fun. Skating, falling and of course a “snowball” song created new memories to compliment the old. Some things you never grow out of, that’s one of the precious beauties of life.

The Miracle of Marcia

So I have already explained that I am in love with books. Though my all time favorite is anything fantasy and fiction, even science is very enjoyable, but I admit that my sisters have gotten me hooked on romance books by one author, Marcia Lynn McClure. Her books at times can be predictable, like most romance anything is, but I find them so enjoyable! They are about finding the Mr. Perfectly Imperfect! But one of my all time favorite things about books is getting the chance to share them with people. My sisters and I collectively have every one of Marcia’s novels, and this Christmas we are getting (hopefully) the newest of her books. Though I remember everything from a book the first time I read it, I find it very enjoyable to revisit stories. As I have had some down time here and there I have read some of Marcia’s books again, and in the process have shared her novels with my roommates and neighbors. I am proud to say that I have four girls completely hooked on her books!! And I love talking to them about each of the novels; it has opened up some really fun conversations. Once again, Marcia wasn’t only a source of personal enjoyment but entertainment amongst friends. That is one of the many miracles of books, not just Marcia’s.

M&M’s, ice cream, pizza, steak and Martinelli’s

While going to college I have discovered some very interesting traditions. It so happens that when certain things happen, there is corresponding items that you owe your roommates. First, holding hands=a bag of M&M’s, next a kiss=ice cream, making out=pizza, and finally an engagement=steak and Martinelli’s. It has been fun as some of the girls start getting crushes and hanging out more with certain boys. So far my apartment is up to three bags of M&M’s and definitely NO ice cream… yet. A tradition I had with my family amongst the siblings is we had to buy ice cream for each other when you got kissed. And the kiss when then rated on the flavor of ice cream. If it was a plain, lame, silly kiss you would probably buy vanilla or nasty pistachio, but if it was a good, tingling in the toes kind of a kiss, then you would buy like Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie!

Quotes, quotes, quotes

In my apartment we have a small cork board in our kitchen. From the first week of school we decided it would be our designated quote wall, and we have filled it up! Most of the quotes need explanations if you were there, and besides my five direct roommates, the two adoptive roommates are the only ones to make it to the quote wall. Sayings from “Boys are like buses,” “I need a tall man with a short mans personality,” “Eggo my waffle,” and “we just cremated a fish” are a few samplers of the many quotes. I’ve loved having moments in the middle of gasping for breath from laughing we get a sticky note and right the funny thing that had us rolling. On all the quotes we put the date in which they were said, and it’s fun to see the time when the roommates fully come out of their shells, because that is the moment when the quote wall bursts with things they say. It’s a nice way to remember the funny moments we’ve had, even now I can’t help but giggle at some of the sayings. I can’t wait to see what the wall is going to look like at the end of winter semester!

“Make all the boys marshmallows go ‘WHAAA’!!”

One of my roommates bought a new coat over the Thanksgiving break. It’s a cute coat, but as soon as she put in on we burst into laughter! In unison the roommates yell “You like a marshmallow!!” I say make up for it by saying “But a very, very cute marshmallow!” But the icing on cake was when the quietest roommate chimes in saying “You’ll make all the boy marshmallows go ‘WHAAA’!!” The next instant we were once again on the floor rolling in laughter. But the marshmallow references didn’t stop flying there, the next moment the Hawaiian got out some marshmallows and literally sent them flying. The next ten minutes were dedicated to a marshmallow war, but soon we joined forces and selected a single target… the neighbors! Ammunition collected, strategy planned, we threw open the back door and charged. Ambushing the neighbors while they were in the kitchen went perfectly. We had the tactical advantage and we claimed our victory! I personally think it was a night well spent.

Ward Slideshow

This past semester has been very memorable with my ward. For the first VERY awkward pizza social, to relief society team building activity, capture the flag, a neon dance and classic skating, things have gone from awkward to awesome. Tonight was fun, once again pizza was present at our get together, but this time everyone was comfortably talking with one another, laughing and joking around, a complete 180 from the first time we met up. After scrumptious pizza we watched a slide show of pictures taken from the first week of school till last week. It was reassuring and fun to be able to recognize people, know their names and be able to recall memories created with them. The only annoying part is this slide show reminded me of girls camp, where every picture that pops up people scream as if they have never seen a picture of them before! Kills me! And then I feel bad when people don’t cheer or scream for those less socially competent kids, and you know that they realize what’s going on. Even if I try to fill in the silence, the awkward, embarrassing has registered. But all in all it was an awesome night. With so many boys and a few girls leaving, it was fun to reminisce one last night.

Cash and Cookies

I may be 1500 miles away from home, but it still seems that my daddy knows exactly what I need and when I need it. As I opened the mailbox that day a week ago I was so excited to see a letter from my dad, his handwriting is so distinct that I knew it couldn’t be from anyone but him. I broke the seal of the envelope and opened the car within. Instantly tears of love and gratitude rolled down my cheeks. Inside what a small note, telling me I needed to take time and treat myself. Inside was a gift card for this super amazing cookie dough, and some cash. How he know that that is what I needed I can only begin to fathom. It’s a comfort to know that my parents are still in tune with what I need, even if I don’t tell them. Though the money was meant for me to go have fun, I can’t think of anything better to spend it on then Christmas presents for them! I can’t wait to see their faces on Christmas!

Dear Santa…

The Christmas list this year was a bit more difficult to come up with to send off to “Santa.” I never thought I would ask for tights, boots, and sweaters in one year, but the climate of this fantastic university called for desperate measures.
My favorite Christmas wish I heard this year came from a roommates grandma, she told us of a time when she was here at school (yes these dorms are THAT OLD!). In one window girls had put up a sign saying:
Dear Santa,
I ask nothing for myself, I simply ask that you bring my mother a son-in-law.

8 Cow apartment

In the dorm rooms I live there are three bedrooms and with two girls in each. I have become the best of friends with the girls in my dorm. We were meant to live with each other!! Though moments we do get on each other’s nerves, we’ve learned how to deal it the little things and except the person for who they are. But something seemed to be missing… well two somethings actually. Two girls from the our neighboring apartment have become our adoptive roommates. One night in during our traditional laughter and all around good times we decided to give our apartment a nickname that acknowledged our two new roomies. The 8 Cow Apartment was born. Don’t be fooled though, we’re not calling ourselves heifers; we are simply recognizing not only our newest members, but our worth as well. For each and every one of us is an 8 cow kind of a girl!!! (confused, look up jonny lingo)

SNOW

I can't decided if I love or hate the crystallized precipitation. Don't get me wrong, the white blanket of freshly fallen snow is enchanting, can will inevitably put you in the Christmas spirit as you catch yourself humming "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.." But when the white turns to gray slush, and the frigid wetness seeps into your shoes, your pants, your gloves and your coat, I begin chanting a different phrase, "Bah humbug!"
But living in this western state I knew this white stuff was coming sooner or later. ( though at times I was praying for later.. MUCH later!!)
Since I haven't lived in a snowy place for so long, it has been enjoyable to re-experience it, not to mention watching my Hawaiian roommate experience it for the first time!! In those moments when she is frolicking in the snow in bare feet, just to run back inside claiming her toes are Popsicles, you can't help but smile.
I'm just afraid the snow is going to get REALLY old, REALLY fast!!!!!

The gullible one: the things I do for my sisters...

I am the youngest of four kids. I have two sisters and a brother. Though my siblings are a few years older then me, we are very close! We love to hang out, to laugh and joke and do silly things... I think we get it from our parents.
People say that the youngest child is the most spoiled, and they always get there way. Well my friends, that is a LIE!!! I am not spoiled and I most certainly do not get my way! My lot is life has made me the brunt of many of these silly moments and situations. Though as I have gotten older and have learned to fight back with comments of whit myself, it seems I have one flaw. I'm gullible!! I admit it! But we warned, it seems that my sisters are the only ones that have a complete grip on how to manipulate me to do their bidding, so don't try to pull anything on me. I'm smarter then you think.
The moments I catch myself doing something for my sister to get a good laugh (though I must say that I laugh with them, they aren't as evil as I'm making them out to be, promise)always seems to be in a moment when they have a camera. Though some moments aren't THAT terrible, it can still be quite.. interesting
Its healthy to laugh at yourself and others every now and then, so here are some pictures of my willingness to give in for your pure entertainment...
1. "Do the sweater people!"
2. "pretend to be a rock"
3. "pretend like you're falling off the bridge"
4. sign reads "no pets on grass"
5. "Go stand in the really short bathroom stalls"
6 and 7. "Lets go to down town memphis so we can find really run down places to take pictures of you in a prom dress!"
8. "go stand and smile under Wendy's hair!"
... the things I do for my siblings...

Types and Shadows

For one of my classes we had to visit the new art exhibit entitled Types and Shadows. The artifacts displayed with in the exhibit were there to uniquely and respectfully describe our Savior, Jesus Christ. Here is my reflection on one particular painting that stood out in my mind:
I have always been a fan of art and museums. I find it fascinating to walk around taking in all the exhibits and try to drive into the mind of the artist to see how they saw, and to understand the meaning of the piece they worked so hard and long to create. In my Book of Mormon class we had discussed types and shadows and how the Law of Moses is a shadow of things that were to come and be fulfilled, meaning Christ ministry and the atonement. While walking through the Art Museum’s exhibit, also entitled Types and Shadows, I was drawn to a more modern painting. The painting by Ron Richmond, entitled Exchange No. 8 really struck a chord in me. The painting is of two chairs, one draped in white, and the other in red. The chair in red has fallen to the feet of the chair in white. The main portion of the painting is within a box, but very faintly around the box you see a circle, the sign for eternity or endless continuum. Around the painting the exhibitioners put possible definitions of the elements that the painting contains, also called folksonomies. As I read their definitions, I began to see the types and shadows presented in the painting. The erected chair, a mercy seat, a throne; the white cloth, cloth meaning covering, protection, the atonement and white being purity, light, truth, holiness. The standing chair is our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The fallen chair may represent sin, transgression, mortality, our life here on earth as we battle the natural man. The red cloth, blood, lineage, sacrifice again covers the fallen chair, just as the atonement of Christ is there to cover our sins, to allow us to wipe clean those transgressions if we are humbled, fallen at our Savior’s feet. And finally, the circle surrounding the painting and all that it depicts, it is the symbol of eternity. The circle is endless, just like the atonement and our Savior’s mercy is endless. Though we must do our part to live righteously and be able to humble ourselves to accept the atonement, it is always there, it is always covering our fallen shoulders. This particular painting just gives me shivers, I love the meaning of these chairs because I have the knowledge of the atonement and my Savior’s love.

words

"The anatomical juxtaposition of two orbicular muscles in a state of contraction"- William Bradshaw

I love words! I love using my words to convince people, I enjoy using my words to describe situations. Though I am better at vocalizing my words, I find writing fun as well.
You could say I'm a book worm. When I read a book, I remember it forever!! I remember the characters, what they looked like, how they spoke and their personalities. I remember the locations so eloquently described, with the laws that governed that place of fiction and the monuments that immortalized its place in history. I when I reread the beloved words of a book I remember the where I was at, the smells that surrounded me and the sounds that I tuned out as I submersed myself in a new world. When I write about the books that I have read, I feel like I take on the voice of the author, and the characters they so lovingly created. As I type the words, it feels like someone else is creating them in my mind. I'm not crazy, I realize it is still me, but the author has influenced me.
The correctly selected words can paint a picture and not just share a message. You shouldn't have to just read something, you should feel like you experienced it.

"The anatomical juxtaposition of two orbicular muscles in a state of contraction"
- A Kiss

Thanksgiving

What a week!! I never thought taking a break from school would feel so fantastic! Finally this past week for Thanksgiving my college gave its students a much needed break.
I didn't get to go home for Thanksgiving, but I was able to spend the time with my sisters in Salt Lake as well as eating Thanksgiving dinner at my aunt's house.
Now don't get me wrong, I love my family dearly, but aunts and uncles are never the same as your own parents. Though the food was delicious, and the time there was enjoyable I really missed my parents and brother. I think a big part of that had to do with having my roommate there. She's from Hawaii, and it's too expensive to fly home for a couple days, so she became an honorary member of my family. I love her dearly, and I think of her as another one of my sisters, but you could tell that being in a strange house full of strange people, that she really missed her family most of all. That's another reason why I missed my parents. Though the aunts and uncles were nice to my roommate, none of them really sat down and had a conversation with her. They of course asked the typical questions any Hawaiian would've received, but knowing my parents, they would have really went out of their way to make her feel comfortable.
Though I know none of that really bothered my roommate, it bothered me for her, it's hard being away from your family during a holiday. And I wish that my whole family could have been there to make you feel more comfortable without her family being there.
Besides that, the break was awesome! I got to read read read!! I just sat down on the couch and read books till 5 AM one morning and it was fantastic. I love reading, and to have that comfort and that time to relax before these last couple weeds of school was perfect. I ended up reading 3 books this weekend, all about 300 pages or so and I could not have asked for a better way to wrap up the weekend.
Now there are only two Sundays left till I'm in my home ward, I only hope that I will survive through finals!!!!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Once I started writing about the 17 Turkeys I couldn't stop. The saying of "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times" described that moment in my life perfectly. I have never had such an emotionally draining Christmas and two years as I had then. But after that Christmas of service and gratitude our prayers were answered once again. Though Dad put on his apostle voice to call us to family council, this time the council was more sweet then bitter. Dad finally got a job, but it required us to move to Tennessee. Without hesitation we all agreed to go, even my sister who was going into her senior year of high school knew that we needed to stay together as a family. Now I can't imagine how my life would be or how I would have turned out if it had not been for the 17 Turkeys and the move to Tennessee. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" must most of all it was a time of faith, hope and love.

The 17 Turkeys (a rough draft)

There it goes again, the gurgling in my stomach. The sound of distant thunder, or a monster stuck in my gut. Over the past few weeks that sound has become a close companion of mine.
I remember the day Dad put on his Apostle voice, deep, rich and resonating like a cello, I was ten at the time. The only time Dad spoke in that voice was either in church when he was giving a talk, or when we were having family council, and that was not a good thing. Whenever family council took place it never was a happy discussion, the pain and unease you felt was similar to sitting in the dentist chair as they begin to drill before the numbness sets in.
When it first happened everything seemed rather exciting, Dad was home all the time, something that had never happened before. He was the one to send us on our way out the door in the morning, and we all thought that Dad would find another job soon, he was good at what he did and there was no reason for him to stay unemployed for long. But weeks turned into months, and those months formed two years. Days seemed to mimic the movie “Groundhog Day”, every moment repeated, and every day the same, still no job.
The first Christmas seemed normal enough. It was a little smaller then the past year, but we had Dad’s pension money and Mom was working hard so Christmas was not painful, just a nagging ache in the back of your head. But by the next year things looked dim.
I was in my bedroom, snuggled up in my covers, the weight and softness of them kept me cozy on the late summer’s night. I cracked my window before retiring to allow the playful wind, the shiver of rustling leaves and the orchestra of humming bugs free rein over my senses as I searched for night’s dreams. But the dreams did not come and melancholy voices filled my ears rather than the whispering summer. Mom and Dad were on the porch, assuming all the kids were tucked in bed. My interest was piqued as I heard the distress in my parents’ voices and the topic of their secret conversation. My mom inquiring what they were going to do about the house. Payments were late, food was scarce and the pressure of our world as a family was becoming too much. I remembered them even talking about sending the kids to different homes till things could be more stable. With compassion in his voice my father refused. He knew that we needed to stay together as a family. Relief encompassed my body like the sun rays did earlier that day. Things were hard, but our family would remain together no matter what. As Mom and Dad ended their conversation with tears and slight sobs, I was able to fall into a tempest tossed dream of worry and dread. But every storm ends and I knew my family would be my vessel of protection.
My 12th birthday came and another Christmas was just around the corner. Though this December seemed like any other, the weeks that followed would change my life forever.
I remember the first night the angels came. The air was crisp, new powdery snow had just fallen and the silence that descended on the neighborhood was not foreboding but a welcomed calm. Even in the quiet hush of winter, the footsteps in the snow went unheard. It was not until a soft thumbing on the door came that anyone was aware there had been visitors. Though the knock was no louder than a drip from a drain, in the late hours it seemed like a waterfall crashing on the rocks. Since my room was the closest to the door I was the only one privy to the sound. Curiosity consumed me. I threw off my blankets, and pounced on the floor, like a lion stocking prey I inched down the hall way to the door. As I drew closer to the front door, butterflies sprang to life in my stomach as hesitant anticipation crawled through my veins, but I could not stop myself from turning the handle.
Angles. That was the only answer. Heavenly Father had sent angles to answer the hunger stomachs and prayers of my family. Sitting there on the porch, in a nest of snow, were four boxes of food. The boxed, canned, and sealed food made excitement boil through my blood like I have never felt before. But I could not keep the knowledge of this Heaven sent food to myself. Instead of a lion I was a cheetah sprinting down the hall way to my parent’s bedroom. I flung the door open with vigor and leapt onto their bed startling them into groggy coherence. With sleep still glazed in their eyes they followed me to the angel’s present. My siblings were aroused by the motion in the house, and as the family circled round the boxes in the kitchen tears of gratitude flowed freely from every eye. Even at 12 I knew this was a special moment, my parents seemed to breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in months. After the first tears were shed, my family gathered together on humbled knees to thank Heavenly Father for the angels of mercy that were sent to us that night. The Spirit I felt that night was warmer and more comforting then any ray of sunshine I had ever felt. It was the night that began the gift of the turkeys.
Over the next couple of weeks we had countless angles visit our house. Heavenly Father always sent them at the perfect time. The moments when doubt, fear and hunger would begin to clutch our bodies, the bands of their pressure would be broken by brown boxes.
I remember going on a drive with my family one evening in a car that was given to us, lovingly called the “Sharkmobile,” we had taken a family outing to see some of the glittering, colorful Christmas lights in the other neighborhoods. As we pulled into our driveway reverent silence filled the car. Through the steady snowfall, illuminated in the warm, yellow glow of the porch light we say that the angels had visited again. But this time was different. As my siblings and I trudged from the garage to the front porch to retrieve the boxes, we noticed that a note was attached to the door. I had never before read four words that had plucked at my heart strings and had filled my spirit with such love as the words scribbled on the note “Look behind the fence.” Tears blinded the vision of my family as we unlatched the fence and saw a true Christmas miracle. There before my eyes was something more fantastic then a pirate’s treasure cove; it was a treasure cove of boxes. I have never seen such as gathering of food in my life. There had to be 20-25 boxes overflowing. The tears that cascaded down my cheeks were not only the tears of gratitude but of utter humility. How it was possible that the love of my Heavenly Father was so great, that He would send so many blessings, in this case food, that there would be no room enough to receive it, I did not know, I only know that it was so. Once again, my family fell to our knees, and my father offered up a fervent prayer of thanks. But this prayer was deeper then thanks. We had been given much, and now we also must give. Service was something that needed to be passed along.
That Christmas was the best Christmas of my life. By New Year’s my family has accumulated 17 Turkeys. But those turkeys were never wasted. As a family we decided who needed to be visited by angels. And now as Heavenly Father’s servants we tiptoed through the crunchy ice crystals of snow, and lightly thumped on the door of those who also needed an angel’s turkey. The 17 Turkeys were an answer to prayers, fasting and humility. But the glorious beauty of those turkeys is that they were meant to bless more than one family’s life.

Roommates

Coming to college I didn't want to be with one specific friend from home. Though we may have been close, I've heard living with friends kinda drives you nuts!! So instead I decided to room randomly and it has turned out GREAT. My roommate is from Hawaii and comes from completely different circumstances and life experiences, but somehow we fit, and we fit really well. She has already become my best friend. We laugh and joke, sometimes giggling together till two or three in the morning. I would have never expected to grow so close to someone so quickly, but like my mom, this freshman roomie will be my friend for a very long time. So I guess you could say I once again learned something new. It doesn't matter where you're from or who your past friends were, there are always new opportunities to find life long friends.

New school, new adventures

For those young individuals out there preparing for the college experience, to you I say "DON'T GIVE UP!!". The thousands of text book pages, the late hours of procrastination, the unfortunate awkwardness of growing up, and the boredom of High School chemistry is worth it!!

College always seemed a far off mythical land, full of moth-ridden teachers and excruciating long lectures. I may be a dorky freshman, just floating on a cloud of innocence and ignorance, but I can already sense that this institute of learning is different. The people here want to learn and work hard (which probably has to do with the fact that all of us are paying little fortunes to now attend school). I have yet to meet the dumb jock who always cheats, or the blond (the condition not the color) cheerleader that writes an essay full of those "like totally!" sentences. People care here, and that makes me want to care. It is undoubtedly inevitable that I will get a boring class, or a moth-ridden teacher, but it's worth the risk. New people, new places, more opportunities to get lost, college is really an adventure!

In a couple of weeks I might be singing a different tune, but for now I'm perfectly content to relish in this new experience.