It's Time To Be A Big Girl Now

I've spent the last year of my life tucked within the folds of a security blanket. I have allowed that blanket to keep me from stepping outside of what is safe and familiar, and I have also used it as an excuse not to step out when I didn't want to. But blankets can only last so long without fraying and ripping when they're toted around with you everywhere you go. And at last, I've admitted that I'm too big to carry this tattered, stained scrap of cloth with me. I'm glad to be rid of it, in fact. There are games I want to play that little girls who hug their blankets close just aren't suited for, and I want to take part in them.
This is my farewell to my own exhausted security blanket as I step out into a much broader playground, seeking for new games and new mates to play them with. I'm finally ready to leave the blanket behind.



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Quote: "Sometimes new love comes between old friends. Sometimes the best love was the one that was always there," Reality Bites
Music: "Big Girls Don't Cry," Fergie
Mood: At Peace

High On A Mountain Top

Last Saturday, I went on a hike with my friend Sir Tim. Our intent was to hike up to the top of a hill, have a picnic dinner, let the sun go down, then stargaze. (A plan I was particularly agreeable to, since I love showing off and I know enough constellations to do just that. ^__^)
We'd had a pleasant walk through the woods, then a bit of a climb. The sun went down as we climbed the hillside, and the sky was just becoming dark enough for the first stars to appear as we reached the top. I'll confess, I'm slightly nervous about the dark, particularly out in the woods, but as I know full well that I just get paranoid without cause easily, I said nothing. But Tim surprised me by stating that he was beginning to get edgy and felt like we needed to get off the mountain as well.
We decided that the first logical step to take would be prayer, and then we debated briefly whether or not his feeling was in fact a spiritual prompting, or merely nerves playing tricks. Ultimately, I told him there was only one way to find out which of the two it was, and we didn't really want to if it meant accident, injury, or worse - particularly in the middle of nowhere with no means of contacting anyone else.
And so, we abandoned our intent, and proceeded back down the hillside and through the woods to the car, wherein we ate our picnic dinner and pointed out a few constellations before driving home.

I remember teaching a lesson about listening to the Holy Ghost to a group of youth once. We talked at length about how hard it is to know sometimes whether the feelings we have come from ourselves or the Spirit, and the conclusion I came to was that sometimes the source isn't as important as what we do about it. Since then I've often advised myself and others: "If the outcome is good, does it really matter if it came from yourself or from the Holy Ghost? No. It's still good. So just do it." My point was that we shouldn't second guess ourselves out of doing good works by assuming a thought is from us instead of a higher power. I'd never imagined the same idea could apply so well to a setting where the intent was not so clearly a 'good work,' per se.
We'll never know whether the feelings either of us had were the product of our own imaginations or impressed upon us by a more divine source. But I'm okay with not knowing. It's a question I can feel good about not having an answer to. I'm proud and glad for the decision we made to obey, regardless of whether the threat was real or imagined, and the fact that we acted on it so readily. And I think our Heavenly Father probably feels the same.
I'm so glad for this experience because I rarely feel like I've acted as faithfully as I should. But each time I make a choice I know is right, it makes me want to make more right choices. Each time I act in obedience, I want to be more obedient. I'm slowly learning how to express my love and gratitude to my Father in Heaven, and the more love I show, the more love I find He has for me.


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Quote: "You cannot depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus," Mark Twain
Music: "River Flows In You," Yiruma
Mood: Sleepy

Warning: Sappy Romantic Whimsy Ahead

It all began with a whim. A series of whims, in fact. What began as a frozen yogurt kick with a girlfriend evolved into a night where some life dreams were achieved and others were born.
You see, while playing around the fountain in a near-by park this evening, my dearly loved gal pal Jessica confessed that one thing she desperately wanted to do someday was put on an elegant formal dress and play in a fountain. Thus, we agreed that we would have to realize this ambition of hers in the near future. We parted ways around midnight, and I prepared myself for bed. Then, roughly an hour after our goodbyes, she called and invited me to attend the immediate fulfillment of her wish along with another friend, who generously supplied the dresses. How could I say no?

And so it was that the three of us set out only a matter of hours ago in pursuit of romantic, girlish adventure, they in their sleek, formal gowns, and I in a lovely old-fashioned gown with lace around the hem and long, flowy sleeves, which I have deemed to be absolutely perfect where the fulfillment of girlish fantasies are concerned!

First, we ventured to Bridal Falls, and I'm not sure we left there with the same number of toes we arrived with. The way Jessica yowled, I'm sure a few of hers must've been frozen off. However, it was determined by the mouth of two or three witnesses that I resembled some form of Celtic goddess, reposing amidst the cascading water, far more than any mortal creature. So I consider the experience well worth what it cost us in useless little appendages.

Then once we'd missed the ability to feel our feet sufficiently, we relocated to the same park we'd visited earlier in the evening, and commenced our girlish frolicking in the fountain (which was significantly warmer by comparison to the waterfall). We danced, splashed, twirled, posed as statues, did karate, and imagined ourselves as nymphs (or a selkie, in Hannah's case).

I can't remember the last time I felt so free-spirited or so ~pretty~ as I did twirling and splashing about tonight in that old-fashioned dress. And I've decided that feeling that way is something I want to share with the man I'll love one day. And so tonight I've set a new goal for myself, and I cannot die happily until I see it accomplished. I'm determined that someday I will find myself in a fountain - or perhaps even beneath a waterfall - with a man I'm crazy about. And I will be well and thoroughly kissed by him there - and perhaps I'll dance with him there as well.


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Quote: "To see the world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wildflower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour," William Blake
Music: "Heavy," Holly Brook
Mood: Romantic

Photo Contest

My friend Cathryn's entered a photo contest for scholarship money. I'm trying to help her out. Please vote for it. It only takes a moment.

My Favorite Photo (I've Ever Taken) Brickfish

Self, Great Day!

I've just finished the kind of day that makes me go, "GOOD FREAKING GRIEF, WHAT AN AWESOME DAY!" I shall now proceed to show you how to have such an epically amazing day in 20 easy steps...

Step 1: Read a book recommended by Taran.
Step 2: Discuss said life-changing read with Taran, interspersed with much laughter and quoting.
Step 3: Go to the pool and swim with Taran, Sarah, Nicole, and Alyssa until the sun goes down.
Step 4: Purchase a J-Dawg.
Step 5: Accept compliments about the beauty of your eyes from the J-Dawg employee.
Step 6: Have a spontaneous song/dance party with Taran, Sarah, and Nicole.
Step 7: Go to the park with Taran, Sarah, Nicole, Rory, and Tim.
Step 8: Climb on things.
Step 9: Jump off things.
Step 10: Swing. (Get creative with this step.)
Step 11: Watch a late night light show in the form of an approaching thunder storm.
Step 12: Link arms and walk home in the rain.
Step 13: Sing and dance in the rain.
Step 14: Receive amazing farewell hugs from Rory and Tim (filled with much lifting, swinging, and spinning).
Step 15: Put on some dry pajamas.
Step 16: Drink Nicole's Homemade Secret Spices Hot Chocolate (patent pending).
Step 17: Receive the most awkward farewell hug of your life from Taran.
Step 18: Watch a ridiculously funny old movie filled with song, dance, slapstick comedy, and actors who actually knew how to act (such as The Court Jester).
Step 19: Laugh uproariously.
Step 20: Proceed to girl talk with Nicole until you hear the birds waking up.

There you have it. The best day I can remember having in who knows how long, and not one part of it was planned before it happened. Life really doesn't get much sweeter.


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Quote: "The pellet with the poison is in the vessel with the pestle. The chalice with the palace holds the brew that is true."
Music: "Lollipop," Mika
Mood: Happy Happy HAPPY!

The Giver

Tonight I had the pleasure of going to a play with my good friend Taran. The play was an adaptation of a Newberry Award-winning book called The Giver. As adaptations from books go, this was a pretty good one, I thought. The design of the set was a powerful tool in conveying the feel of the world in which the story took place. I had only a few complaints about the technical aspects of the show. And the acting was very well-done. The woman who played 'the Giver' in particular was an excellent actress who was truly convincing in her part. I found myself drawn to the brink of tears more than once for her efforts, and there was no shortage of sniffles to be heard around the house.

For any who are unfamiliar with The Giver, it is a story set in a Utopian Society, far in the future. It's a world without danger, pain, anger, or even rudeness. There's no injury, beyond an occasional scraped knee, no violence, no selfishness, no hunger, and no natural disasters (due to climate control technology). There's also no passion, no music, no color, no heat or cold, no love. No conscience, no individuality, no strength or courage (there's no need for them) and above all, no choice. Not because those in authority openly force the people to obey, but because they've lived in this perfectly calculated and contained way for so long, no one remembers a time when there were choices. Except the Receiver (the Receiver becomes the Giver when the next Receiver is chosen and the memories of all the past generations are passed on to them). The Giver and Receiver alone are able to comprehend a world where mates, children to look after, and jobs are not chosen for a person. They alone know what a sunrise looks like, or what riding a horse feels like. Only they can see color or hear music. At the same time, they're the only two who know what starvation, injury, warfare, heartbreak, and death feel like. Thus the rest of the community around them is able to stay ignorant and safe and content.

Watching the story unfold in this setting made it very easy to imagine a world in which an alternative plan would have been chosen. Specifically the plan proposed by Lucifer. It would have been a much safer plan, to be sure. Not one soul would be lost. It would have been so easy to justify. As Jonas (the new Receiver) begins to test the bounds of everything he's been taught, he asks: "What if we could choose our own mates?" But then, he just as quickly steps back from the notion, realizing his mistake: "Oh... But what if we choose wrong?" What if, indeed...

It's easy to see the correlation in this fictional world between safety and ignorance. No one ever imagines there could be more to the world than the tiny function they have been taught to carry out as part of the society. They have no knowledge of anything else. Where would they have gained it? Knowledge comes with the experience of choosing. Sometimes we -do- make the wrong decision. But whether our choice is right or wrong, there is always some new knowledge gleaned by experiencing it.

"Why can't we have colors?" Jonas asked. "Why can't I wake up in the morning and choose to put on a red tunic or a blue one? The choice wouldn't really matter.... It's the choosing that matters." Jonas was exactly right. It is the choosing that matters. The ability to choose who to marry, what to do, where to go, how to feel, what to eat, what to wear... Just think of what Christ was willing to do in order to give us those choices! How very much it matters! Ours is a Plan of Happiness. And there was no happiness in that other plan. Only shades of gray.

How grateful I feel that He's given me this world of colors to choose from. Living in a world of grays may have been a safer choice. But it was no choice at all. I could not imagine ever wanting to live in such a world. But then, if I -did- live there, I couldn't imagine very much at all, could I?


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Quote - "God loves you the way you are. But He loves you too much to leave you that way."
Music - "Love Story Meets Viva la Vida," Jon Schmidt
Mood - Gloriously alive!

Waking Nightmares

I had a nightmare a few nights ago. A rather violent, and all-too disturbing one. Essentially, I was stuck in the midst of a genocide war. A "superior" blond-haired military was actively hunting down and slaughtering a race of foreign black-haired gypsies. You'd think I'd be safe, being just about as blond as they get. But you'd be wrong. If I remember right, my family was sympathetic toward the gypsies, and thus we were labeled as traitors. My parents were killed and my little brother and I had to escape by sneaking out of the country with a party of the gypsies. We did so by dying our hair black and tricking them into believing we were like them. However, our group was found out before we could get out and the soldiers opened fire into the crowd. My little brother was killed. My memory's a little vague here. I'm not sure how, but some of our group did escape the massacre and crossed the borders into "safe" territory. Safe as long as your hair's black, anyway. My hair went back to its natural color, and thus I found myself at the mercy of those I had traveled with, who had now turned vengeful. Random people from my waking life often walk into my dreams. In this case we had a cameo from a friend named Marie (whom I haven't seen for about half a year, as she's currently living on the opposite end of the globe) . She was also wanted by the gypsies (though I'm not sure why, as she's brunette), so Marie and I were on the run together. We ran through a dusky forest until we came across a barn (not sure what it was doing out in the middle of the woods) and ran inside to hide. Our hunters weren't far behind, though. They cornered Marie first and shot her. Then me.
Naturally, witnessing the murders of friends, family, yourself, and even strangers would be distressing. But there was something else even more unsettling about it. I realized what it was when I described this dream to a friend and he jokingly stated, "I'm glad I don't live in your head." The fact is, slaughtering masses of innocent people because their hair doesn't match yours is something that should only "make sense" in a distorted dream world where the rules of logic and reason don't apply. But in Hitler's Germany, the Aryan ideal of a world filled with blond haired, blue eyed, "superior" humans became justification for the butchering of 11 million people (6 million Jews, 5 million from other races). And in Rwanda, the Hutus and Tutsis were divided by the size of their noses. Could there be a more ridiculous reason for starting a war? And yet it happened. And it wasn't in someone's warped dream world where it makes sense for your best friend to be an android or for you to get pregnant from eating potato chips. This nightmare happened in the waking world. More than once. How is that possible?


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Mood: Awake... right?
Music: "The Sound of White," Missy Higgins
Quote: "In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart," Anne Frank