I really hope my future first born is a boy. I think every first born should be a boy, in fact. Why is that? Because every girl deserves to have a big brother.
I have five little brothers (some of which are actually cousins, but they will forever be brothers by my reckoning). I also have five little sisters (again, some of which are cousins - we're an abnormally close family). This position has helped shape me into a little bit of a premature mother (at least in my mind). I'm protective of them. I feel responsible for them in some ways, and I miss the days when the younger ones were small enough for me to coddle and dote on.
I like being older. I really do. But there's one thing I feel like I've missed a lot - a big brother. And it's not because I didn't have one. Because I did. I mean... I do. I have an older brother, but we've never had the kind of relationship I think a brother should have with his younger siblings. I remember idolizing him as a little kid. I played with things like HotWheels, Ninja Turtles, dinosaurs, and Monster Trucks because he liked them. I wanted to be just like him. But that didn't last long. By the time I'd started school, he didn't want anything to do with me. In his eyes, I was an ugly little freak. He never had a kind thing to say about or to me. We've never really talked at all. He had his pond to fish from, I had my books to bury myself in, and we just didn't acknowledge each other. (I was glad when he stopped acknowledging me since I had fewer bruises that way.)
I guess that lack I've felt with him is the reason I adopt my close guy friends as surrogate brothers. (I did the same thing with the families of my closest friends when my own family was in the throes of divorce.) I have one particular guy friend that I feel like I can always go to for advice or venting when I'm frustrated. There really isn't a topic that I feel would be too much to discuss with him. He teases and banters with me. He puts me through the tortures of tickling. We play fight. He compliments the things that he knows I feel self-conscious about. He bullies me into having a healthy social life when I'd just let myself be a hermit. We fight all the time and I've never worried that we wouldn't still be friends at the end of the day for it. I just feel like I can relate to him and depend on him exactly the way I always felt like a girl should be able to depend on a brother.
I have other friends as well that'll tease me the same way, or offer to beat up the guys who upset me for whatever reason. (Not that I'd ever let them do it. ^.^()) It's nice feeling important like that. It's fun being able to adopt new 'big brothers.'
Anyway, that's just what's in my head right now. I'm very glad that I have such wonderful friends who look out for me and make my life so much richer. I'm grateful to finally have someone I can call 'big brother' - even if it took me 19 years to get him.
...............
Quote - "Men always believe they are in control of everything around them. When they find out there are not, they think they have failed, instead of learning a simple truth women already know," Aviendha (WoT)
Music - "Wonderful," Everclear
Mood - Playful
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Freaked out. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.
Let's find out what's on my mind, na?
.....
I'm like Gollum. I both hate and love the ring, just as I hate and love myself. What is my ring? Men who dance. Not just dance. Men who dance divinely.
I love dancing with a man who can make me feel like I can waltz - even though I know I can't. I love men who not only spin their partners - but who know how to do it with so much flair and finesse that the entire song becomes a pattern of complex twists and dips. This is a great thing for me because I know how to spin - and as long as I keep spinning I don't have to worry about my lacking footwork and the basic steps I don't know. I just really love dancing with a man who's good enough at what he does to make me feel like I can dance too.
So why do I hate it? Because nothing makes you feel quite so clumsy and pathetic as being unable to even follow a basic step when you're paired with someone so much more skilled than yourself. After stepping on a few guys' toes and sitting out for a few minutes to watch the people who obviously know exactly what they're doing and look good doing it, it's so easy to become self-conscious. And once that one blow to the esteem lands on a weak spot, all the others just start pummeling you from all sorts of sides. Funny how something like dancing well (or poorly) can change your perception of yourself as attractive (or not) in a matter of minutes. Go figure.
.....
I got to see my second family today! I've liked to think of my friend Calli's family as my own surrogate haven through my growing years. They've provided a wonderful example in a lot of ways for the kind of family I hope to have someday.
With four children ranging from the mid-twenties to late teens in age (plus a father whose work periodically takes him overseas), it's been a few years since I've seen all of this family together at once. Today when I popped by Calli's place, I discovered that the parents and youngest daughter had come to visit with the other children (who all happen to be here at the Y - for the time being). It was such a strange, happy sight for me - seeing them all together under one roof again. It makes me hopeful for similar reunions that could be in my future - half a lifetime down the road from now.
.....
I need a babysitter. I swear I'm too scatterbrained to keep myself alive most days. What was my mother thinking letting me out of the house (let alone the state) without an escort?
I consider any day in which I remember that I need food before 2 or 3 in the afternoon a pretty dang excellent day. It's not like I'm worried about my weight and try to eat less or anything ridiculous like that. I love food way too much to ever even consider it. I just... forget that I don't really benefit from food until I take time to... yanno... eat it.
I spent 2 1/2 days combing my apartment for my wallet this week. As all the girls have been packing and scrubbing all week, I figured it would turn up eventually and didn't get too worried. After all, there were a lot of messes it could've been hiding in. But by Thursday night, I'd realized I was in trouble because everything had been packed and cleaned. My wallet was -still- missing. I started trying to retrace my steps of the past week - and it's dreadful scary how little of the week I've been living in I can actually remember. o.O Made some phone calls, did some stressing... No wallet. This morning I got a call from Calli, informing me that I'd left my wallet at her place Monday night. ...Oh, yeah. I'd kinda forgotten I'd even been there (for 6 hours) until she mentioned it. So around mid-day I took a break from the final cleaning that was going on and went to retrieve the wayward wallet. Mission accomplished. Yaaaaay!
So... a few short hours later, I'd managed to finally eviscerate the final dregs of evidence to suggest that any human being had ever lived in our apartment, gave myself a satisfied pat on the back, and closed the door... And then started wondering what I'd done with my keys. >.< In case you're wondering, the keys were also, eventually, found. (Hours and hours later, after a bit more stressing.)
I wonder if my constant state of oblivion is more stressful for me because of the trouble it gets me into or my mother because of the worrying she knows she has every right to do? Hmm...
.....
My mother did not raise me to be a mooch. Whilst the wallet was missing, I had offers from friends to help me pay for things I needed. My roommates took their kitchen supplies (including the microwave) and left me without the means to cook anything but cold cereal for myself, and I had friends offer me warm food as a result. They were so anxious to be helpful - and persistent. I'm glad they were because it enabled me to get my work done and gave me a warm meal when I needed it. But I still felt bad about it. Guilty for being needy, I guess. I feel like I have to return the favor, and I don't like being in debt. Heck - I won't even ask for rides to the grocery store from my friends or roommates. If I need something, I'll walk the half hour it takes to get there just so I can do it myself. I hate being a burden to other people.
This mooching also applies to simple things like company. I don't care how many times a friend says 'You're always welcome to visit/tag along/eat/whatever,' or 'Consider yourself invited to anything you'd like to go to.' I refuse to take up that open-ended offer. I used to have a very bad habit of forcing my company on people who didn't really want it, and I didn't realize it. I try so hard not to do that anymore, and I won't invite myself back into that situation. So thanks, but if you really want me to participate, I'm going to need a more specific invitation. Them's the brakes.
.....
I am so bleeding tired. That's all, folks.
....................
Quote - "Your mom." Thanks, Manly Man ^.~
Music - "The Rose," Bette Midler
Mood - F.I.N.E.
.....
I'm like Gollum. I both hate and love the ring, just as I hate and love myself. What is my ring? Men who dance. Not just dance. Men who dance divinely.
I love dancing with a man who can make me feel like I can waltz - even though I know I can't. I love men who not only spin their partners - but who know how to do it with so much flair and finesse that the entire song becomes a pattern of complex twists and dips. This is a great thing for me because I know how to spin - and as long as I keep spinning I don't have to worry about my lacking footwork and the basic steps I don't know. I just really love dancing with a man who's good enough at what he does to make me feel like I can dance too.
So why do I hate it? Because nothing makes you feel quite so clumsy and pathetic as being unable to even follow a basic step when you're paired with someone so much more skilled than yourself. After stepping on a few guys' toes and sitting out for a few minutes to watch the people who obviously know exactly what they're doing and look good doing it, it's so easy to become self-conscious. And once that one blow to the esteem lands on a weak spot, all the others just start pummeling you from all sorts of sides. Funny how something like dancing well (or poorly) can change your perception of yourself as attractive (or not) in a matter of minutes. Go figure.
.....
I got to see my second family today! I've liked to think of my friend Calli's family as my own surrogate haven through my growing years. They've provided a wonderful example in a lot of ways for the kind of family I hope to have someday.
With four children ranging from the mid-twenties to late teens in age (plus a father whose work periodically takes him overseas), it's been a few years since I've seen all of this family together at once. Today when I popped by Calli's place, I discovered that the parents and youngest daughter had come to visit with the other children (who all happen to be here at the Y - for the time being). It was such a strange, happy sight for me - seeing them all together under one roof again. It makes me hopeful for similar reunions that could be in my future - half a lifetime down the road from now.
.....
I need a babysitter. I swear I'm too scatterbrained to keep myself alive most days. What was my mother thinking letting me out of the house (let alone the state) without an escort?
I consider any day in which I remember that I need food before 2 or 3 in the afternoon a pretty dang excellent day. It's not like I'm worried about my weight and try to eat less or anything ridiculous like that. I love food way too much to ever even consider it. I just... forget that I don't really benefit from food until I take time to... yanno... eat it.
I spent 2 1/2 days combing my apartment for my wallet this week. As all the girls have been packing and scrubbing all week, I figured it would turn up eventually and didn't get too worried. After all, there were a lot of messes it could've been hiding in. But by Thursday night, I'd realized I was in trouble because everything had been packed and cleaned. My wallet was -still- missing. I started trying to retrace my steps of the past week - and it's dreadful scary how little of the week I've been living in I can actually remember. o.O Made some phone calls, did some stressing... No wallet. This morning I got a call from Calli, informing me that I'd left my wallet at her place Monday night. ...Oh, yeah. I'd kinda forgotten I'd even been there (for 6 hours) until she mentioned it. So around mid-day I took a break from the final cleaning that was going on and went to retrieve the wayward wallet. Mission accomplished. Yaaaaay!
So... a few short hours later, I'd managed to finally eviscerate the final dregs of evidence to suggest that any human being had ever lived in our apartment, gave myself a satisfied pat on the back, and closed the door... And then started wondering what I'd done with my keys. >.< In case you're wondering, the keys were also, eventually, found. (Hours and hours later, after a bit more stressing.)
I wonder if my constant state of oblivion is more stressful for me because of the trouble it gets me into or my mother because of the worrying she knows she has every right to do? Hmm...
.....
My mother did not raise me to be a mooch. Whilst the wallet was missing, I had offers from friends to help me pay for things I needed. My roommates took their kitchen supplies (including the microwave) and left me without the means to cook anything but cold cereal for myself, and I had friends offer me warm food as a result. They were so anxious to be helpful - and persistent. I'm glad they were because it enabled me to get my work done and gave me a warm meal when I needed it. But I still felt bad about it. Guilty for being needy, I guess. I feel like I have to return the favor, and I don't like being in debt. Heck - I won't even ask for rides to the grocery store from my friends or roommates. If I need something, I'll walk the half hour it takes to get there just so I can do it myself. I hate being a burden to other people.
This mooching also applies to simple things like company. I don't care how many times a friend says 'You're always welcome to visit/tag along/eat/whatever,' or 'Consider yourself invited to anything you'd like to go to.' I refuse to take up that open-ended offer. I used to have a very bad habit of forcing my company on people who didn't really want it, and I didn't realize it. I try so hard not to do that anymore, and I won't invite myself back into that situation. So thanks, but if you really want me to participate, I'm going to need a more specific invitation. Them's the brakes.
.....
I am so bleeding tired. That's all, folks.
....................
Quote - "Your mom." Thanks, Manly Man ^.~
Music - "The Rose," Bette Midler
Mood - F.I.N.E.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The Dress
So I have this dress...
It's a beautiful thing - my shade of green (emerald, that is), elegant, and perfectly wonderful. Very likely the best DI find I've ever made - and that's an impressive statement. I love the way I look in it, and I love the way I feel in it. How do I look and feel? Lovely.
So this morning as I was getting ready for church, I tried it on - just for the heckuvit. My roommate exclaimed "You look like an elven princess!" In response I laughed and made to go change into something else, but she talked me out of it.
So roughly an hour and a half later, I scampered my way up to church in this lovely little number. Once I was inside the building, I put my shoes on, then walked into the room where we hold sacrament meeting. And thus we have reached the point wherein I realized the magnitude of my error.
There were... EYES... on me. I saw girls gushing at me as I walked past them. I reached the row where my roommates sat, and Richard blurts out, "You look like an elvish princess!"
...My roommates swear they didn't tell him to. I'm not sure that I believe them. At any rate, it wasn't the last time today I got that comment. I can't tell you how many compliments I received today. Exquisite, beautiful, wow, gorgeous, I love it, wow, pretty, WOW... I heard them all repeatedly.
...
......
..........
I am -never- wearing that dress again.
It's the WEIRDEST feeling ever - walking into a room and having people stop and stare. I have no problem with having every eye in a room on me when I'm on stage, in a costume, pretending to be someone else. That's totally different. When it's just me, though, it's unnerving.
Besides, I know it shouldn't be so hard, but I always feel awkward accepting compliments from people. It makes me feel snobbish. Conceited. Pompous. All of the above. I'm in a synonym-ic mood tonight.
And perhaps worst of all, it would seem that that dress gave just enough incentive to Super-Awkward-Geek-Boy-Whom-I-Have-Been-Striving-For-Weeks-NOT-To-Encourage. Oh, yes. The one with B.O. that smells like onions. (I would know since he sat next to me during one of the meetings today. >.<)The one who thinks that just because I'm a gamer girl he can prattle on endlessly about the most inane aspects of games I've never heard of and couldn't care less about. (He tries to make it philosophical and applicable to actual laws of science. >.< Do you WANT to make me cry out of sheer boredom?!) He's one of those that's starting to feel the age gap between himself and the other singles in the ward and is getting desperate. The boy who will invite himself over 'to be social' and then just sits there and forces conversation out of us while my roommates and I TRY to suggest kindly and subtly that he should go because we have things to do. But does he go? No. He just sits there as we go about our business. So then I end up HIDING in the back rooms until he decides he's ready to go - which can be a -very- long time.
On a totally unrelated note, as I've been sitting here in front of my laptop, I have had the misfortune of sharing the room with a couple that will be married within two days' time. This is a most severe punishment that should be reserved for only the most despicable criminal offenders in this corner of the galaxy. As they've exchanged their... farewells for the night... I have attempted to drown them out by snatching at whatever song I could find in my head. This is usually reasonably effective since I'm pretty easily distracted by my own mind and tune out a lot of things anyway - whether I mean to or not. ...However, we just finished watching Enchanted. "I've been dreaming of a true love's kiss..." wasn't QUITE what I needed at the moment. Thanks, irony. Thank you so stinking much.
...And this is why today was a 'Why me?' kind of day. -____-() I suppose it really wasn't a terribly -bad- day. I just feel like whining. Oh, woe. Alas and alack.
I'll put up another post soon about something muchmuchMUCH happier. It's very happy stuff indeed. But it must wait because I have refrigerators to scrub for tomorrow's cleaning checks. Mm, scrumptious.
~~~~~~~~~~
Quote - Jess: "You're talking to a ~boy~?"
Me: "Yes, well... 48% of the world's population is male. Chances are fairly good that I'd have to communicate with one every now and then."
Jess: "Well, at least we're still winning."
Me: "Mmhmm. If we could only get their mothers to stop feeding them when they're young, they'd die out a lot faster."
Music - "How Does She Know," Enchanted
Mood - Unfortunate
It's a beautiful thing - my shade of green (emerald, that is), elegant, and perfectly wonderful. Very likely the best DI find I've ever made - and that's an impressive statement. I love the way I look in it, and I love the way I feel in it. How do I look and feel? Lovely.
So this morning as I was getting ready for church, I tried it on - just for the heckuvit. My roommate exclaimed "You look like an elven princess!" In response I laughed and made to go change into something else, but she talked me out of it.
So roughly an hour and a half later, I scampered my way up to church in this lovely little number. Once I was inside the building, I put my shoes on, then walked into the room where we hold sacrament meeting. And thus we have reached the point wherein I realized the magnitude of my error.
There were... EYES... on me. I saw girls gushing at me as I walked past them. I reached the row where my roommates sat, and Richard blurts out, "You look like an elvish princess!"
...My roommates swear they didn't tell him to. I'm not sure that I believe them. At any rate, it wasn't the last time today I got that comment. I can't tell you how many compliments I received today. Exquisite, beautiful, wow, gorgeous, I love it, wow, pretty, WOW... I heard them all repeatedly.
...
......
..........
I am -never- wearing that dress again.
It's the WEIRDEST feeling ever - walking into a room and having people stop and stare. I have no problem with having every eye in a room on me when I'm on stage, in a costume, pretending to be someone else. That's totally different. When it's just me, though, it's unnerving.
Besides, I know it shouldn't be so hard, but I always feel awkward accepting compliments from people. It makes me feel snobbish. Conceited. Pompous. All of the above. I'm in a synonym-ic mood tonight.
And perhaps worst of all, it would seem that that dress gave just enough incentive to Super-Awkward-Geek-Boy-Whom-I-Have-Been-Striving-For-Weeks-NOT-To-Encourage. Oh, yes. The one with B.O. that smells like onions. (I would know since he sat next to me during one of the meetings today. >.<)The one who thinks that just because I'm a gamer girl he can prattle on endlessly about the most inane aspects of games I've never heard of and couldn't care less about. (He tries to make it philosophical and applicable to actual laws of science. >.< Do you WANT to make me cry out of sheer boredom?!) He's one of those that's starting to feel the age gap between himself and the other singles in the ward and is getting desperate. The boy who will invite himself over 'to be social' and then just sits there and forces conversation out of us while my roommates and I TRY to suggest kindly and subtly that he should go because we have things to do. But does he go? No. He just sits there as we go about our business. So then I end up HIDING in the back rooms until he decides he's ready to go - which can be a -very- long time.
On a totally unrelated note, as I've been sitting here in front of my laptop, I have had the misfortune of sharing the room with a couple that will be married within two days' time. This is a most severe punishment that should be reserved for only the most despicable criminal offenders in this corner of the galaxy. As they've exchanged their... farewells for the night... I have attempted to drown them out by snatching at whatever song I could find in my head. This is usually reasonably effective since I'm pretty easily distracted by my own mind and tune out a lot of things anyway - whether I mean to or not. ...However, we just finished watching Enchanted. "I've been dreaming of a true love's kiss..." wasn't QUITE what I needed at the moment. Thanks, irony. Thank you so stinking much.
...And this is why today was a 'Why me?' kind of day. -____-() I suppose it really wasn't a terribly -bad- day. I just feel like whining. Oh, woe. Alas and alack.
I'll put up another post soon about something muchmuchMUCH happier. It's very happy stuff indeed. But it must wait because I have refrigerators to scrub for tomorrow's cleaning checks. Mm, scrumptious.
~~~~~~~~~~
Quote - Jess: "You're talking to a ~boy~?"
Me: "Yes, well... 48% of the world's population is male. Chances are fairly good that I'd have to communicate with one every now and then."
Jess: "Well, at least we're still winning."
Me: "Mmhmm. If we could only get their mothers to stop feeding them when they're young, they'd die out a lot faster."
Music - "How Does She Know," Enchanted
Mood - Unfortunate
Friday, April 11, 2008
Public Service Announcement
Boys are blockheads. That is all.
~~~~~~~~~~
Music - "Poison," Alice Cooper
Quote - "Reality continues to ruin my life." ~Calvin and Hobbes
Mood - Peeved
~~~~~~~~~~
Music - "Poison," Alice Cooper
Quote - "Reality continues to ruin my life." ~Calvin and Hobbes
Mood - Peeved
Monday, April 7, 2008
My Will Is As Strong As Yours (even if nothing else is)
Sooooo.... Before I get on with the rest of this post, I want to make sure it is understood that I do not believe that violence is ever the best way to solve a problem. (I do, however, acknowledge that sometimes it is the only way.) Also, the only place that it has amongst family and friends is in the form of play fighting. Never in real conflict or punishment.
That having been said now, I used to enjoy play fighting as a kid. I got into it just as much as my brothers and cousins did. It's been years now since I've done so. Even though I still like to talk tough, it's purely out of amusement because it's just that - talk. I know full well that I could never make good on the threats I spout off at my guy friends because it absolutely goes against my nature. I hate hurting people. I really am too afraid of hurting someone unintentionally to even try (beyond swatting half-heartedly at a boy when teased). I have fairly good reason for it - I'm a klutz. I have on occasion hurt people without meaning to.
Last night, Nam-Allirog and I started horsing around over a bracelet he stole from me. As ever, I was fairly cautious about my display of tankish force, since I had no real desire to hurt him and just wanted my bracelet back. Within a few minutes, he started turning it into a sparring match - the boy loves sparring and will take on any opportunity to do so. I decided it wouldn't hurt to play along for a bit.
After a few minutes I determined that he was enjoying himself way too much for my pride's sake, so I started trying a little harder to make contact when I swung. After about fifteen minutes of this, I realized that even when I did land a hit, he didn't even feel it. No matter how hard I connected, it didn't phase him at all. I -couldn't- hurt him. So I finally just let go of every reservation I had and really started trying to deck him. I punched and kicked and even tried biting once (I really do fight like I did as a kid.) I fought with everything I had, and it was annoyingly obvious that it didn't make one bit of difference. I could hardly hit him, and even when I did, I seemed to hurt my own hands more than I did him. To make it worse, he was going so stinking easy on me - stopping every time I tripped or he hit harder than he'd intended so I could recover, and he fought one-handed (with his non-dominant hand) the entire time to boot.
Within a half-hour, my hands and arms were really smarting and I was wearing myself out, so I stopped trying to hit so much and just played defense. He and I both knew I couldn't keep up much anymore, and he kept trying to convince me to try bargaining with him instead of bruising myself up further. I've got one heck of a stubborn streak, though, and it was in full force by then. More than an hour after the sparring began, I kept insisting that he was just trying to talk his way out because he was about to break, and it would be silly for me to surrender when I was obviously winning.
Our audience through it all had been Sir Tim. Roughly an hour and 20 minutes after it all started, he decided that it was time to break things up. Of course, the fact that my arms were too stiff and sore for me to do anything but try to block and dodge wasn't about to convince me to surrender, so the behemoth picked me up as easy as you please (never mind my flailing and fighting against him too), slung me over his shoulder, and toted me back home. >.<
It was all in good fun, and we all enjoyed it. It's not something I'd be anxious to do often, as I -am- a little bit bruised up now. Nevertheless it was fun to be a rough 'n rowdy tomboy again.
But the big deal about it is - it's made me very keenly aware of just how defenseless I am. If I'd ever find myself in a situation where I'd really have to fight to defend myself, I'd be so powerless it'd be laughable... in a very not-funny kind of way...
I go on a lot of late-night walks. It's a habit I've enjoyed for years - it allows my body to do something automatic so that I'm mentally relaxed. It gives me time away from other people to talk aloud and sort out the things in my head or vent. I never think twice about walking myself to a store or the library or a friend's house after dark, and have always shrugged off the idea of using the 'safe walk' system. I don't like bothering people unnecessarily.
No one's ever really bothered me. (The one recent time I can remember a couple of guys making me nervous, I was hiking with a nice big walking stick, so they kept their distance.) I've just always assumed that if the need ever arose, I'd be able to manage on my own.
I'm now realizing that that may be a very stupid assumption for me to make. Maybe I should start considering alternative meditation methods. Or else find my own Mr. Miyagi to teach me how to wax on and wax off...
~~~~~~~~~~
Quote - "There are only two forces in the world: the sword and the spirit. In the long run, the sword will always be conquered by the spirit." ~~ Napoleon Bonaparte
Music - "She Walked Away," Barlow Girl
Mood - Getting Things Done
That having been said now, I used to enjoy play fighting as a kid. I got into it just as much as my brothers and cousins did. It's been years now since I've done so. Even though I still like to talk tough, it's purely out of amusement because it's just that - talk. I know full well that I could never make good on the threats I spout off at my guy friends because it absolutely goes against my nature. I hate hurting people. I really am too afraid of hurting someone unintentionally to even try (beyond swatting half-heartedly at a boy when teased). I have fairly good reason for it - I'm a klutz. I have on occasion hurt people without meaning to.
Last night, Nam-Allirog and I started horsing around over a bracelet he stole from me. As ever, I was fairly cautious about my display of tankish force, since I had no real desire to hurt him and just wanted my bracelet back. Within a few minutes, he started turning it into a sparring match - the boy loves sparring and will take on any opportunity to do so. I decided it wouldn't hurt to play along for a bit.
After a few minutes I determined that he was enjoying himself way too much for my pride's sake, so I started trying a little harder to make contact when I swung. After about fifteen minutes of this, I realized that even when I did land a hit, he didn't even feel it. No matter how hard I connected, it didn't phase him at all. I -couldn't- hurt him. So I finally just let go of every reservation I had and really started trying to deck him. I punched and kicked and even tried biting once (I really do fight like I did as a kid.) I fought with everything I had, and it was annoyingly obvious that it didn't make one bit of difference. I could hardly hit him, and even when I did, I seemed to hurt my own hands more than I did him. To make it worse, he was going so stinking easy on me - stopping every time I tripped or he hit harder than he'd intended so I could recover, and he fought one-handed (with his non-dominant hand) the entire time to boot.
Within a half-hour, my hands and arms were really smarting and I was wearing myself out, so I stopped trying to hit so much and just played defense. He and I both knew I couldn't keep up much anymore, and he kept trying to convince me to try bargaining with him instead of bruising myself up further. I've got one heck of a stubborn streak, though, and it was in full force by then. More than an hour after the sparring began, I kept insisting that he was just trying to talk his way out because he was about to break, and it would be silly for me to surrender when I was obviously winning.
Our audience through it all had been Sir Tim. Roughly an hour and 20 minutes after it all started, he decided that it was time to break things up. Of course, the fact that my arms were too stiff and sore for me to do anything but try to block and dodge wasn't about to convince me to surrender, so the behemoth picked me up as easy as you please (never mind my flailing and fighting against him too), slung me over his shoulder, and toted me back home. >.<
It was all in good fun, and we all enjoyed it. It's not something I'd be anxious to do often, as I -am- a little bit bruised up now. Nevertheless it was fun to be a rough 'n rowdy tomboy again.
But the big deal about it is - it's made me very keenly aware of just how defenseless I am. If I'd ever find myself in a situation where I'd really have to fight to defend myself, I'd be so powerless it'd be laughable... in a very not-funny kind of way...
I go on a lot of late-night walks. It's a habit I've enjoyed for years - it allows my body to do something automatic so that I'm mentally relaxed. It gives me time away from other people to talk aloud and sort out the things in my head or vent. I never think twice about walking myself to a store or the library or a friend's house after dark, and have always shrugged off the idea of using the 'safe walk' system. I don't like bothering people unnecessarily.
No one's ever really bothered me. (The one recent time I can remember a couple of guys making me nervous, I was hiking with a nice big walking stick, so they kept their distance.) I've just always assumed that if the need ever arose, I'd be able to manage on my own.
I'm now realizing that that may be a very stupid assumption for me to make. Maybe I should start considering alternative meditation methods. Or else find my own Mr. Miyagi to teach me how to wax on and wax off...
~~~~~~~~~~
Quote - "There are only two forces in the world: the sword and the spirit. In the long run, the sword will always be conquered by the spirit." ~~ Napoleon Bonaparte
Music - "She Walked Away," Barlow Girl
Mood - Getting Things Done
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Missionaries - Present and Future
I need to get to bed before it's too late, but I'm leaving my beloved computer for a few days and figured I should put up a post, lest I find rabid, spleen extricating, Cap'n-deprived followers awaiting my return on Sunday.
Where am I going, you might ask? To Arches National Park, would be my answer. What will I be doing there? Scraping my knees up on rocks, probably falling off quite a few of said rocks, hiking, eating tin foil dinners, freezing to death... Yanno. Experiencing the wonders of the great outdoors. ^______^ I really do enjoy it all - except the part where I freeze to death, of course.
I'm just going to jump around with the big things that I can remember from the past week.
Saturday, I got a call from my momma during DnD. She said that she and the youngsters were attending a session of The Best of EFY down at SVU. Aaah... EFY. It makes me squee on the inside and out. ^__________^ I'm thoroughly convinced that working for that program is the single best job on the face of this planet. Light, I hope I can do it again someday.
Of course Chynna was glad to be there because of the opportunity to socialize with her boyfriends (one on each arm and all that) - I hope she got a little more out of it than flirting.
And Casey - oh, that boy. He grumbled and complained and drug his feet the whole way, but once he got there, he had a wonderful time and told Mom he was glad he came. ^__________^ My hope lives on! Out of the 7 boys that our family has raised, Casey is the only one that I can honestly hope for where the prospect of a mission's concerned. The church has never been more than a chore to any of them. Something your parents make you do. Casey doesn't really have a solid testimony or anything at this point, but with the right prodding, he'd be so much more willing to make it a priority than any of the others, I think.
Casey's a lot like me. More than anyone else in the family. I've seen his notebooks filled with snippets of stories, sketches of characters with extraordinary powers, and song lyrics. I've watched him fight imaginary battles in the backyard with the cheap decorative swords he inherited when I left for school. I wonder if he knows just how similar we are.
I worry about him a lot. Even if he did excel at art, sports, hunting, music, acting, school, popularity, creative thinking, or whatever, so what? Like Ron Weasley, he's at the end of the line in a huge family, and there's no real motivation for him to do well at anything because it's all been done already by his older siblings and cousins. We've got so many different talents that there's really nothing left he's found that could be uniquely his.
Although there are many other great reasons I hope he'll serve a mission, one of the biggest to me is that this is something he can do that will really allow him to shine - something he can be proud of and feel real accomplishment for. He has the potential to do something that none of the older boys ever will and that they'll regret not doing years later. I'm just holding onto my hope that someday he'll be the example that they all should have been to him.
...And I really wandered off there. Back to Mom's phone call - she called to give me what could be the best news I've heard in... well... I'm not sure when I last heard news this good. Flashback!
At my first youth conference, I became friends with two awesome boys - Will and Sam. Will especially became a very close friend. I'll admit, I crushed on him for quite a while too. He had an amazing smile and cute curls and watched anime, okay? They graduated two years before I did, and seeing them go really upset me. We tried keeping in touch, but after about a year and a half, the calls stopped and they effectively fell off the face of the earth. Why were they still home so long after graduating, you may ask? At least in Will's case, he was the only real active member in his family and had to raise the money for a mission himself. Honestly, after about a year, I'd more or less given up hope that he'd ever go. I haven't heard from him or Sam in over three years and never expected I would again.
So this past Saturday at the EFY activity, my mom happened across a boy that looked an awful lot like Sam. Happened to be a younger brother. She asked a few questions and it turns out, Sam has 4 months left of his mission here in Utah while Will has 6 months left on his in Japan. I was so happy, I came dangerously close to crying right there in the middle of our DnD game - where I happened to be when Mom called to tell me this.
I ended up doodling a sketch of a missionary with a smile and a mop of curls in church the next day. One of the guys who saw it commented on the fact that he didn't have a proper missionary haircut. Yes, I know that Will's hair is probably a lot shorter now, but I can only picture him as I knew him. ^____^() Ah, well.
Concerning other friends from years long past (though she's still around), EJ and I FINALLY got Calli to read the Twilight series. Yaysquee! XD Not only is it good to have another fangirl follower converted, Calli and I also made a deal that's very good for me. I put in an equal amount of studytime to her time spent reading that series. So I now owe her twenty-two and a half hours worth of homework. Edward Cullen may be the best motivator I've ever had. Haha.
And while we're on the subject of motivation - I'm finding mine again. In the last two weeks, I've played soccer, ultimate frisbee (twice), hiked, gone swimming, and ran 6 miles (two nights, 3 miles each). It feels so great to be active again! Even though my muscles have made some protests and I spazz whenever a frisbee comes my way, I've loved every bit of it and don't want to stop for anything.
And now for the sad news - it looks like I may not go to Alaska this summer after all. It's not all sad, though. I've discovered that rather than trying to earn enough money to pay back my student loans in July, it would probably be better to enroll in a new school, resume my student status, and forgo the loans until we can really afford to pay them back. So I'm doing some research on UVSC and talking to counselors about how to transfer credit from there back here to BYU. I have a really good feeling about this route. It'll allow me to make some progress with my GE's a lot sooner, rather than just waiting for my suspension to end. Now that I have a real goal and I know what it is I want to do with myself education-wise, I'm anxious to get back into the game and make some good things happen.
And on a closing note: I come from an awesome family. How many people my age have grandparents that could flip a truck three times, total the vehicle, and take no more damage than a few broken ribs? My granddad did last week. That's right. We're built to last. ^____~
-------------------
Quote - "The spaces between your fingers were made so someone else's could fill them."
Music - "Rebel, Rebel," David Bowie
Mood - Artistic
Where am I going, you might ask? To Arches National Park, would be my answer. What will I be doing there? Scraping my knees up on rocks, probably falling off quite a few of said rocks, hiking, eating tin foil dinners, freezing to death... Yanno. Experiencing the wonders of the great outdoors. ^______^ I really do enjoy it all - except the part where I freeze to death, of course.
I'm just going to jump around with the big things that I can remember from the past week.
Saturday, I got a call from my momma during DnD. She said that she and the youngsters were attending a session of The Best of EFY down at SVU. Aaah... EFY. It makes me squee on the inside and out. ^__________^ I'm thoroughly convinced that working for that program is the single best job on the face of this planet. Light, I hope I can do it again someday.
Of course Chynna was glad to be there because of the opportunity to socialize with her boyfriends (one on each arm and all that) - I hope she got a little more out of it than flirting.
And Casey - oh, that boy. He grumbled and complained and drug his feet the whole way, but once he got there, he had a wonderful time and told Mom he was glad he came. ^__________^ My hope lives on! Out of the 7 boys that our family has raised, Casey is the only one that I can honestly hope for where the prospect of a mission's concerned. The church has never been more than a chore to any of them. Something your parents make you do. Casey doesn't really have a solid testimony or anything at this point, but with the right prodding, he'd be so much more willing to make it a priority than any of the others, I think.
Casey's a lot like me. More than anyone else in the family. I've seen his notebooks filled with snippets of stories, sketches of characters with extraordinary powers, and song lyrics. I've watched him fight imaginary battles in the backyard with the cheap decorative swords he inherited when I left for school. I wonder if he knows just how similar we are.
I worry about him a lot. Even if he did excel at art, sports, hunting, music, acting, school, popularity, creative thinking, or whatever, so what? Like Ron Weasley, he's at the end of the line in a huge family, and there's no real motivation for him to do well at anything because it's all been done already by his older siblings and cousins. We've got so many different talents that there's really nothing left he's found that could be uniquely his.
Although there are many other great reasons I hope he'll serve a mission, one of the biggest to me is that this is something he can do that will really allow him to shine - something he can be proud of and feel real accomplishment for. He has the potential to do something that none of the older boys ever will and that they'll regret not doing years later. I'm just holding onto my hope that someday he'll be the example that they all should have been to him.
...And I really wandered off there. Back to Mom's phone call - she called to give me what could be the best news I've heard in... well... I'm not sure when I last heard news this good. Flashback!
At my first youth conference, I became friends with two awesome boys - Will and Sam. Will especially became a very close friend. I'll admit, I crushed on him for quite a while too. He had an amazing smile and cute curls and watched anime, okay? They graduated two years before I did, and seeing them go really upset me. We tried keeping in touch, but after about a year and a half, the calls stopped and they effectively fell off the face of the earth. Why were they still home so long after graduating, you may ask? At least in Will's case, he was the only real active member in his family and had to raise the money for a mission himself. Honestly, after about a year, I'd more or less given up hope that he'd ever go. I haven't heard from him or Sam in over three years and never expected I would again.
So this past Saturday at the EFY activity, my mom happened across a boy that looked an awful lot like Sam. Happened to be a younger brother. She asked a few questions and it turns out, Sam has 4 months left of his mission here in Utah while Will has 6 months left on his in Japan. I was so happy, I came dangerously close to crying right there in the middle of our DnD game - where I happened to be when Mom called to tell me this.
I ended up doodling a sketch of a missionary with a smile and a mop of curls in church the next day. One of the guys who saw it commented on the fact that he didn't have a proper missionary haircut. Yes, I know that Will's hair is probably a lot shorter now, but I can only picture him as I knew him. ^____^() Ah, well.
Concerning other friends from years long past (though she's still around), EJ and I FINALLY got Calli to read the Twilight series. Yaysquee! XD Not only is it good to have another fangirl follower converted, Calli and I also made a deal that's very good for me. I put in an equal amount of studytime to her time spent reading that series. So I now owe her twenty-two and a half hours worth of homework. Edward Cullen may be the best motivator I've ever had. Haha.
And while we're on the subject of motivation - I'm finding mine again. In the last two weeks, I've played soccer, ultimate frisbee (twice), hiked, gone swimming, and ran 6 miles (two nights, 3 miles each). It feels so great to be active again! Even though my muscles have made some protests and I spazz whenever a frisbee comes my way, I've loved every bit of it and don't want to stop for anything.
And now for the sad news - it looks like I may not go to Alaska this summer after all. It's not all sad, though. I've discovered that rather than trying to earn enough money to pay back my student loans in July, it would probably be better to enroll in a new school, resume my student status, and forgo the loans until we can really afford to pay them back. So I'm doing some research on UVSC and talking to counselors about how to transfer credit from there back here to BYU. I have a really good feeling about this route. It'll allow me to make some progress with my GE's a lot sooner, rather than just waiting for my suspension to end. Now that I have a real goal and I know what it is I want to do with myself education-wise, I'm anxious to get back into the game and make some good things happen.
And on a closing note: I come from an awesome family. How many people my age have grandparents that could flip a truck three times, total the vehicle, and take no more damage than a few broken ribs? My granddad did last week. That's right. We're built to last. ^____~
-------------------
Quote - "The spaces between your fingers were made so someone else's could fill them."
Music - "Rebel, Rebel," David Bowie
Mood - Artistic
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Got Milk?
Well, the tallies are in, and the votes stand as thus:
1 I don't think you're a dork. You're totally cool!
1 You attract dorks because that's what you subconsciously desire.
2 They're attracted to you because they see common interests. (With a hint of 'Other guys may be interested, but they're too afraid of damaging their reputations to give you a chance.')
1 If you want anything else, you're going to have to let your hair grow out and wear more makeup. (There would be two votes for this one if my mom read my blog.)
1 You're too soft. You may wish you were tough, but you know you're not and so do we, you pansie.
1 I'll tell you later - when it's safe.
And my sister didn't vote because she thinks I'm too dorky to bother reading my blog. ^.^()
That's about what I expected.
In other news:
Thrynn thinks I need to post entries more often. I think Thrynn faces a painful, stabbity demise in the relatively near future. Call it a hunch. ^__________________^
Saturday was a great day. It was several days ago, but it was still great. My character delivered the killing blow to a colossal sized dragon in DnD - with her bare hands. Muaha. I made cheese cake cupcakes, and they were most scrumptious.
I cleaned my room (though you can't really tell anymore) while Calli and I took a trip down nostalgia lane. My, we were silly kids. Why, yes, Digimon and Gundams and Dragonballs CAN exist on the same planet... Our kids will get tired of watching cartoons before we do. And once upon a time, 19 was sooooooo far away, and we would be married by then. HAAAAAH!
So then I drug the poor sickly creature that was Calli to a karaoke party in the realm of Man-205. Light, that was a blast. Mullet wigs, 80's rock, attempted cha-cha, and cheesecake from the Irish Pub. Yum. Calli and I agreed, though, that the night would have been perfect if they'd had Mika's song Grace Kelly among their karaoke tunes. Alas, it was not. Lord Tarzan and I would've brought down the house with that one.
There was also an Irish Pub party going on and Irish jigging did occur. And I wore a giant orange top hat that covered my whole head. I felt like Baby New Year from that clay-animation movie because the only way to keep the hat up was to fold my ears out and balance it on them. It made a lot of people laugh, which made me happy. ^__^
I learned some things about the human body and the digestive system this week. I learned that humans are the only mammals that don't become lactose intolerant very quickly after being weaned from their mothers' milk. There are varying degrees of lactose intolerance. For instance, one person could be totally incapable of consuming any dairy product without severe reactions while another person could perceive no signs at all of being sensitive to lactose with dairy products such as cheese, yogurt, butter, etc. But with milk, which contains a significantly greater amount of lactose, symptoms may suddenly appear. It's also a condition that increases in severity as you age.
I am also approximately 90% certain that I am developing what is, for now, a mild form of lactose intolerance. I've been doing some self-experimenting and have found in repeated cases that my body reacts badly when I drink milk. It's still mild enough that I don't really notice symptoms with less-lactose-concentrated dairy products, but a few glasses of milk is enough to make my stomach very unhappy with me. I don't mind giving up milk itself so much. Never have liked the stuff and hardly ever drink it anyway - unless it's chocolaty. But it will make my heart and soul inconsolably sad if this is something that progresses as I get older until I must also say goodbye to wonders like cheese and the most sacred of substances - ice cream. Maybe I should start binging on dairy while I still can...
Today was such a beautiful day! About 60 degrees and sunny with a little bit of wind. Just perfect. I decided it was prime Y-hiking weather. So I put on my boots and toted my trusty walking stick Miro up the hill to the mountain. (Not only is Miro good at helping my klutzy feet stay under the rest of me when I'm conquering mountains, he's also very good at telling creepy guys that stare at me as I'm walking alone to keep their distance. He's a good boy. ^___^) Miro and I had just reached the second switchback when I got a call from Korrie, who needed someone to drive her to class. So we turned around and trotted ourselves back down off the mountain so we could be useful. (It's kinda funny that Korrie and I hang out more, and I get to actually be helpful to her now that I'm no longer her visiting teacher. Heheh...) She seemed hesitant to interrupt my little adventure, but I assured her it would be fine as long as she promised to accompany me on a later excursion up to the Y. The funny thing is - I didn't realize at the time that that excursion would have to be MUCH later since Korrie's still hobbling around on crutches due to an unfortunate episode with gravity and the 'sport court.' Mrr.
Aaaaaaaaand.... I was born in the year of the dragon. RAWR.
-------------------
Quote - "I could never be a vegetarian. I like broccoli too much." Annika
Music - "Hand-Me-Down," Matchbox 20
Mood - ~I'm a helper!~
1 I don't think you're a dork. You're totally cool!
1 You attract dorks because that's what you subconsciously desire.
2 They're attracted to you because they see common interests. (With a hint of 'Other guys may be interested, but they're too afraid of damaging their reputations to give you a chance.')
1 If you want anything else, you're going to have to let your hair grow out and wear more makeup. (There would be two votes for this one if my mom read my blog.)
1 You're too soft. You may wish you were tough, but you know you're not and so do we, you pansie.
1 I'll tell you later - when it's safe.
And my sister didn't vote because she thinks I'm too dorky to bother reading my blog. ^.^()
That's about what I expected.
In other news:
Thrynn thinks I need to post entries more often. I think Thrynn faces a painful, stabbity demise in the relatively near future. Call it a hunch. ^__________________^
Saturday was a great day. It was several days ago, but it was still great. My character delivered the killing blow to a colossal sized dragon in DnD - with her bare hands. Muaha. I made cheese cake cupcakes, and they were most scrumptious.
I cleaned my room (though you can't really tell anymore) while Calli and I took a trip down nostalgia lane. My, we were silly kids. Why, yes, Digimon and Gundams and Dragonballs CAN exist on the same planet... Our kids will get tired of watching cartoons before we do. And once upon a time, 19 was sooooooo far away, and we would be married by then. HAAAAAH!
So then I drug the poor sickly creature that was Calli to a karaoke party in the realm of Man-205. Light, that was a blast. Mullet wigs, 80's rock, attempted cha-cha, and cheesecake from the Irish Pub. Yum. Calli and I agreed, though, that the night would have been perfect if they'd had Mika's song Grace Kelly among their karaoke tunes. Alas, it was not. Lord Tarzan and I would've brought down the house with that one.
There was also an Irish Pub party going on and Irish jigging did occur. And I wore a giant orange top hat that covered my whole head. I felt like Baby New Year from that clay-animation movie because the only way to keep the hat up was to fold my ears out and balance it on them. It made a lot of people laugh, which made me happy. ^__^
I learned some things about the human body and the digestive system this week. I learned that humans are the only mammals that don't become lactose intolerant very quickly after being weaned from their mothers' milk. There are varying degrees of lactose intolerance. For instance, one person could be totally incapable of consuming any dairy product without severe reactions while another person could perceive no signs at all of being sensitive to lactose with dairy products such as cheese, yogurt, butter, etc. But with milk, which contains a significantly greater amount of lactose, symptoms may suddenly appear. It's also a condition that increases in severity as you age.
I am also approximately 90% certain that I am developing what is, for now, a mild form of lactose intolerance. I've been doing some self-experimenting and have found in repeated cases that my body reacts badly when I drink milk. It's still mild enough that I don't really notice symptoms with less-lactose-concentrated dairy products, but a few glasses of milk is enough to make my stomach very unhappy with me. I don't mind giving up milk itself so much. Never have liked the stuff and hardly ever drink it anyway - unless it's chocolaty. But it will make my heart and soul inconsolably sad if this is something that progresses as I get older until I must also say goodbye to wonders like cheese and the most sacred of substances - ice cream. Maybe I should start binging on dairy while I still can...
Today was such a beautiful day! About 60 degrees and sunny with a little bit of wind. Just perfect. I decided it was prime Y-hiking weather. So I put on my boots and toted my trusty walking stick Miro up the hill to the mountain. (Not only is Miro good at helping my klutzy feet stay under the rest of me when I'm conquering mountains, he's also very good at telling creepy guys that stare at me as I'm walking alone to keep their distance. He's a good boy. ^___^) Miro and I had just reached the second switchback when I got a call from Korrie, who needed someone to drive her to class. So we turned around and trotted ourselves back down off the mountain so we could be useful. (It's kinda funny that Korrie and I hang out more, and I get to actually be helpful to her now that I'm no longer her visiting teacher. Heheh...) She seemed hesitant to interrupt my little adventure, but I assured her it would be fine as long as she promised to accompany me on a later excursion up to the Y. The funny thing is - I didn't realize at the time that that excursion would have to be MUCH later since Korrie's still hobbling around on crutches due to an unfortunate episode with gravity and the 'sport court.' Mrr.
Aaaaaaaaand.... I was born in the year of the dragon. RAWR.
-------------------
Quote - "I could never be a vegetarian. I like broccoli too much." Annika
Music - "Hand-Me-Down," Matchbox 20
Mood - ~I'm a helper!~
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