Love, Lauka

Just a wish

2011-09-13T18:03:00.000-07:00

There is no gift so simple nor perfect as a "wishing flower" from a child.

source

Sunny Days

2011-09-12T18:37:00.000-07:00

I've never seen as much joy in any person as I see in 10 year old Matt while we jump on the trampoline.

His patience is as boundless as his energy as I rest every few minutes because of this terrible, awful, no good, cold.

During our rest times, we lay on the trampoline in the warm fall sunshine and I tickle his feet.

With an "Up we go!" from Matt, we're back bouncing and giggling.

{Perspective}

Nothing in the world seems nearly as important as his happiness and sweet giggles.

And the truth is, nothing could be.

[I was made for sunny days]

For the sake of writing

2011-09-05T14:12:00.000-07:00

I would like to preface this by saying that the writings that I post are usually very rough drafts (few progress beyond drafts) and are simply written to... get the creative flow moving. So, enjoy.

Untitled

He cupped my chin in his warm hand and it was, admittedly, not at all as I had imagined it. His hands were strong, rough and calloused, yet gentle, as only a father’s hands could be. My eyes didn’t recognize his face, but our souls were so familiar there was no doubt we were well acquainted. It was such a strange place and time in which I found myself, neither here nor there, and I remained perfectly unaware of any feeling aside from comfort. It was a room, I suppose, but not like a room in a house or a building, but a room just on its own in space and it was vast and light. The light came from every surface, so no shadow could be found and everything could be seen with the utmost clarity. He gently tilted my chin up so I could look at him directly, which, in my insecurity, I had been avoiding and instantly my smile mirrored his without any effort on my part. I believe it was because his face was so full of love; an unsurpassable kind of love that ensured that nothing I had done or would do could be unforgivable. When he spoke, it was not a great and terrible voice, the likes of which would shake the very heights of Heaven or depths of Hell, but it came as a whispered secret between two very old friends. It was the sound of the breeze that passed by and shook the leaves of the trees that gave breath to the earth. My heart knew the voice well and responded with utter joy. I cannot tell you the things which he said, for they were for me and me alone. I can tell you that the words were not complicated nor disconcerting, but simple. As a parent explaining to a child, he chronicled all that I sought and so much more and I, for the first time, understood everything from beginning to end. His voice, like him and this room, seemed to be entirely comprised of light, which swept all doubt, confusion and disarray from my mind, leaving only space for understanding. I was like a child again, thirsting after anything and everything, wanting nothing more than to absorb all I could about the world and those around me. Only this time, this time I wanted more than just the world, I craved to know all of eternity. “Not yet, my darling.” Was his unmitigated response, and with that I felt the patience, not of a child, but of a soul well beyond my earthly years. It was then that I truly comprehended that I am as eternal as he; that I am a spirit without time or boundaries and that I have within me all of the potential to become all that he is. I am not, by definition, young or old. I just am. Despite the eternal nature of my being, I lack experience. How plain a truth it is to have, yet how few obtain or maintain it. What is it then that made me so special as to gain the answer? Could it really be that all one has to do is ask? It must be.

The whole of it was over as quickly as it began and even now, as I tell it, I can feel my mind forgetting. What a feeble, human thing forgetting is. And though I’ve written it, I know that words have not done justice to what I experienced. I still grasp for words, searching everything I’ve ever known of language to find any word or set of words to capture all that I felt and saw, but I come up with nothing; just a blank where an adjective should be. So, for now, I’ll leave that blank as it is. Perhaps someday I’ll discover a word that I’ve yet to learn or perhaps a word will be created to facilitate such an encounter as mine.

Love,

Lauka

This is love

2011-08-04T23:07:00.000-07:00

We sit around the dinner table, my grandparents, my aunt, and I, chatting about everything and nothing in particular. My grandfather remains mostly quiet as we prattle and gossip over our tacos.

He glances up at me, then down at his plate and then back up at me, this time with an expression of astonishment.

"Well, my goodness you're cute!"

He looks at me as though he hasn't seen me in years.

We joke and laugh about it... "Twenty two years and you're just noticing?"

Later, my grandfather and I stand outside. He turns to go inside, but hesitates.

"Laura, come here. I want to show you something."

He turns and walks towards the garden. I follow.

He takes a Daylilly that has yet to bloom gently between two fingers, showing me.

"You watch them grow and then one day you look and you see that they're blooming and they're beautiful. That's what I meant. I've watched you grow and now I look at you and you're blooming. You're absolutely beautiful!"

Thank you, Grandpa.

Daylillies may just be my new favorite flower.

Love,

Lauka

The newness of you

2011-08-04T00:19:00.000-07:00

My material life is in complete and utter disarray.

Black trash bags filled with clothes and hangers and blankets litter the floor, intermingled with tubs of an assortment of things and random decorations from my previous home.

I sit in the corner, tucked comfortably into my perfectly made bed.

I'm thoroughly exhausted, therefore torn between getting some much needed rest and trying to make sense of this stuff that proves my relevance to society.

I think that for tonight I'll sleep. There's not much I can do as far as organizing until I have shelves and drawers into which I can tuck these things.

Despite the madness of clutter and exhaustion from transferring my life from one place to another, I find myself perfectly content.

I absolutely love moving.

I love this house.

I think that I'll be very happy here.

Here's to my first night in my new [home]

cheers!

Curly Girl Designs

Love,

Lauka

Dear One in a Million, a million to one

2011-07-13T12:50:00.000-07:00

On July 8th, 1961, Mary Ann Leatham and William David McNeil were wed in Logan, Utah.

On July 8th and 9th, 2011 we gathered together as friends and family to celebrate my grandparent's remarkable 50 years of marriage with them!

aren't they darling?!

My absolute favorite moments of the night were the cutting of their very [first] wedding cake!

(You see, they didn't have wedding cakes 50 years ago.. something about Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution... the details are fuzzy.) (just kidding!)

A cake wasn't present on their wedding day, so this year, my aunt made a beautiful cake for them.

My grandmother was absolutely thrilled to have a cake and they were just too cute trying to figure out how the cutting was supposed to go.

Just looking at the pictures makes me giddy!

I realize this post doesn't do them, their marriage, nor the party, justice, but I wanted to keep it short and sweet.

It is such an honor and a blessing to have these two as role models. Their love continues to spread to those lucky enough to spend time in their company. They are wonderful examples of love, commitment, faith, and strength. I can only pray to someday have a bond and a marriage as beautiful and eternal as theirs.

[cheers!]

Love,

Lauka

Their Song:

God is in the rain

2011-07-07T16:49:00.000-07:00

Have you ever heard a sound so perfect, so complete and so intimate that it speaks directly to your soul.

It could be a song or a voice or something so simple as the ringing of a bell.

Whatever it is, does it enrapture you and keep you listening whenever you hear it?

Do you give yourself over to it and let it infiltrate the deepest parts of your being?

I hope you have a sound like that.

My sound is thunder.

You have stolen my heart

2011-06-28T14:21:00.000-07:00

I have officially been in Austin for 4 hours.

That's it.

4 hours is all its taken for me to be head over heels for a city such as this.

I am currently tucked away in Rio Rita's on E 6th St sipping a TopoChico, observing Austinites in their natural environment and quietly hoping that someone will ask me to play a board game with them.

The are a few tables in the middle of the room with mismatched retro chairs. The walls are lined with couches no doubt donated or found at various thrift stores. The paint on the walls is vibrant...teal and yellow...but peeling. The art of locals is hung everywhere. There is a back room which is darkly lit with colored lights. The air conditioner is on, but its not quite cool enough to forget that you're in the middle of Austin in the summer.

The man on the couch next to me is knitting a sweater. Perhaps he assumes that by the time he finishes, it will be cold enough to merit a sweater...then again, this is Texas...so maybe not.

This town is full to the brim with hipsters and I want to meet every single one of them.

The men sitting at the table next to the sweater clad wooden pillar seem out of place. They're older and wearing business casual attire. It seems strange that they would come to a hole-in-the wall place like this one.

I desperately miss living in a town that has dark hideaways and a downtown that's alive. This city in spilling over with art and artists and people that want nothing more than to create.

I love the run down buildings. I love the people that smile and say hi when they walk by. I love that the cafe Anslee and I had lunch at had long community tables and people weren't uncomfortable sitting next to strangers. I love the juke box in Rio Rita's that is filling the space with everything from rap to trip hop to jazz.

Austin is alive and breathing.

It is an entity all its own, pulsating with a creative energy that can't be ignored.

My soul feels at home here.

It seems so familiar a place even though I've never been here.

I am not afraid of being alone in this city.

I could spend the next few days completely by myself and never feel alone.

This city itself is a friend. I can share with it my fears and hopes and dreams, my heartbreaks and dark secrets and be assured that it will never judge me nor betray me.

I'm so filled with excitement, joy, and energy that it almost brings me to tears.

I'm kicking myself for leaving my 35 mm at home. What kind of a fool does that?

In just a few minutes, I'll finish my water and run away to South Congress Avenue for some wandering and time passing.

fragmented fiction

2011-05-24T21:47:00.000-07:00

[Clarity]

Claire; a simple enough name, really. It doesn't sparkle or ring or attract attention. It's just a name. It's my name. It means clear, bright, and famous. Odd name for a girl who's fairly certain she's never felt any of the above. I guess my mother didn't plan for a child like me. She's beautiful, my mother; I mean, really beautiful. She was an actress, not the kind you see in blockbuster movies, but the kind that performs on Broadway. She was really something up there. Her voice brought audiences to tears and her performance brought crowds to their feet. You really can't help but fall in love with her. So, who would expect her to have such a plain, ordinary child? At the age of 22, I have accomplished, well, nothing. I currently live at home with my perfect mother, after having given Julliard a shot and failing in every possible way. It's truly amazing that they ever accepted me in the first place. My voice is good and strong like my mother's, but my stage presence is seriously lacking. My secret? I am painfully and cripplingly shy. Once again, who would have thought, right? The only daughter of the great Vivianne turns out of be the most socially awkward creature to ~~grace~~ stumble onto the stage.

Can you imagine it? Really, though, can you? Growing up gangly and clumsy with such a woman to live up to; it really takes its toll on a girl. Sure, they tell me I've really "grown into myself," whatever that means. But I still see that silly little girl that never says or does the right thing. That's the me that I'm aware of, no matter what they say.

So, singing wasn't for me...neither was acting or dancing or performing publicly in any capacity.

What now? I haven't the slightest idea what to do with myself.

My mother, bless her heart, is trying desperately to understand but just can't get a handle on my seemingly fatal flaw.

There's nothing wrong with being shy, not really. I'm sure there are thousands of people like me. There have to be. You just don't know them because they settle into quiet jobs and quiet lives. They are the people that sit quietly reading on the metro, in delis and on park benches in understated suits. They don't talk to strangers and they certainly don't call attention to themselves. Though I don't know their names, I feel connected to them in our disconnection from the world.

I tell Annie all of the things I've been feeling. I try to explain the fog I find myself in whenever I try to do or plan anything. I like to imagine myself in certain careers and life scenarios, but the vision is never quite clear enough to become real. She doesn't really understand. She's the most motivated and goal oriented person I've ever met. She's currently finishing up her master's and will start her internship next fall. She is petite, slender and truly a force to be reckoned with. How is it, that with all of my imperfections and awkward ways, I find myself among such perfect company? I digress. The point is that the person who knows me best in this whole universe doesn't understand. She tells me to just find something I love and strive to be the best at it. Easy to say for someone who's good at everything. I tell her I'll try. She tells me that I spend too much time "trying" and not enough doing. She's right of course.

I head home from our lunch dejected and fully prepared to pity party my evening away. As I walk, I monologue in my head about how sad my life is and how I've never been good at anything. Needless to say, it's a familiar monologue, nonetheless, somehow I get distracted from my walk and find myself on an unfamiliar street. I do this more than I'd like to admit. My mother moved into a new house my freshman year of college and I have yet to become familiar with the area. I glance around, getting my bearings. Cafe on the corner, bookstore next to it, deli...it's almost exactly the same as every other street in this town. I don't mind so much that I'm lost, I'll find my way eventually and I've got time to kill, so I go over to the bookstore, hoping to find a novel to throw myself into. However, the first thing to catch my eye is not a novel, but a journal. Leather bound and nondescript, I feel drawn the book. This book and I have similar souls, I think. What in heaven's name would I do with a journal? Write in it, I suppose. That's what people do with journals. Such a silly question. I buy it on a whim and after an hour or so of wandering, I find my way home.

A billion pens in this house and it takes me a solid 15 minutes to find one that works.

I curl up with Sophie, my darling, massive mastiff and I write. I write everything and nothing. I write what I know and what I want to know and even some things that I don't know. I write until my hand cramps and my eyes blur.

When I stop writing, I realize I've taken up several pages of my brand new book. I examine my handwriting and the way it starts off neat and clean and progressively digresses until it's hardly legible.

Then, I read what I've written. In my words, I find something new, something entirely unexpected.

In the scribbled words on these formerly bare pages, I find me.

For the first time in my life, I am able to look through myself and into clarity.

Net[working]...sounds hard

2011-05-21T12:11:00.000-07:00

source

I have a confession.

You might not be expecting it...then again, if you know me or have been reading my blog, you might be.

Despite how many countless hours I spend on the computer, the truth is that I don't know how to work the internet.

Yes, I blog, I tweet, I facebook...I network the crap out of my life, but were you to invite me to join a forum or a real networking site, my poor, media inept brain gets all in a tizzy.

My perfectly internet capable friends suggested I check out Reddit because it's reportedly better and more up to date than stumble upon. I took that suggestion and recoiled in fear and confusion when I found myself on a website that I would need a yahoo map to navigate. I haven't returned to reddit since that day...which I may never hear the end of.

I'll stick to my fool proof stumble upon, thank you very much!

My most recent endeavor to join 20 Something Bloggers (at the recommendation of Hipstercrit) was a similar experience. I got myself signed up and anxiously awaited acceptance. When I received my glorious confirmation e-mail, I hopped on over to the site with anticipation and was stopped in my tracks by walls of feeds and comments and blog suggestions and and and.... {gasp}

Where was I to start?

With setting up my profile, of course. Easy enough, I suppose. The hardest part of that is finding witty and interesting things to say about myself to hook potential followers. Cake. I can brag about myself until the cows come home. Profile: Done!

Well...then what?

Join a group! Why not? What better way to begin my blog networking experience!

Hello, 20 Something Writers! I'm Laura and I don't think I'm a real writer or blogger yet. Someone Please love me...

After the profile setting-up and group joining, I was worn out.

I had done enough for one day. I'd just leave it alone and try again another day...and then I completely forgot about it.

Imagine my surprise when I received a friend request! Can you believe it?

Not only did I not know there was such a thing on 20sb, but I was flummoxed that somebody would want to be my friend. And if that weren't enough, shortly thereafter, I got ANOTHER friend request.

(You probably think that it continued on like that until I had at least 352 friends, but it didn't. I have 2 friends and ya know what? I appreciate them.)

The gist is, really, that I have no idea how to work the internetz. With all the wiz-bang ads, flashing lights and people with their comments and such, its just utterly lost on me. The truth is, I can hardly handle those things irl. (That means "in real life" for those of you who are just as internet differently-abled as I am, but also lacking in internet savvy friends.)

Eventually, I'll get the hang of 20sb and maybe even get brave some day and try my hand at tumblr or the like...but that day is not today. For now I'll stick with my 3 basics, blog/twitter/facebook.

I probably shouldn't post this. It's not very good. But I'm gonna do it anyway!

Love your very own blogging twitface,

Lauka

For realsies, this time

2011-05-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

Bumpada Bumpada Baaaaaa

I am happy to present to you Love, Lauka's (real) summer 2011 to-do list!

Let's [dive] right in! eh eeeeh?
Not funny? oh...uh...ahem...
And in no particular order...:

Learn to play the guitar (no, really this time)

Learn to play the piano (for serious, its gonna happen this time)

Learn to speak Spanish (everyone should know how)

Get in shape (no giving up this time)

Coach youth rugby

Don't give up on my summer goals 2011

(bring on the motivation!)

While that last list looked much less daunting and therefore much more appealing, I figured I should make some attempt at being an adolescent attempting to be an adult attempting to be a contributing member of society.
I will keep you all painfully over-involved with my activities this summer.
I hope you're looking forward to it as much as I am!

Love,
Lauka

Gooooaallll! (this is not about soccer.)

2011-05-13T11:59:00.000-07:00

I, Laura, ~~having been born to goodly parents~~ (wrong story) have a tradition of setting goals to accomplish during my summer months. Granted, very rarely do I actually accomplish these goals, so this year I've decided to set slightly more...ahem...attainable goals.

I have it on good authority that people like lists, therefore, I have put my goals into list form for your enjoyment.

Summer 2011

Wake up [every] morning

Walk to and from the bathroom at least once a day

Spend absurd amounts of time at the pool

Log onto facebook several times a day

Don't run a marathon

Find joy in doing absolutely nothing

Consume only things that are meant for human consumption

Brush my hair sometimes

I don't want to overwhelm myself, so I'll go ahead and stop there. Who knows, I might get crazy and exceed my expectations!

I think even Stephen Fry would approve of my goal setting strategy!

STEPHEN FRY: WHAT I WISH I'D KNOWN WHEN I WAS 18 from Peter Samuelson on Vimeo.

Sleepy Laura and the Comfort Creature

2011-04-29T16:50:00.000-07:00

I have a thing tonight...a thing with a boy. I hesitate to call it a date because I don't know if it actually is a date and I don't want to be that weird girl that says she has a date when they were "just hanging out."

In a later post, I may tell about about tonight's date, but as it stands all I have is a thing with a boy.

This boy is picking me up in a little over 2 hours.

I'll factor in about 45 minutes of getting ready. (20-30 min. actually getting ready and 15 min. obsessing about how I look and 'touch ups.')

This leaves me with 1 hour and 15 minutes of down time before I start getting ready.

You may be wondering, "Well, why don't you just get ready now?"

Because, nosy reader, if I start getting ready now, I will give myself 1 hour and 15 minutes of obsessing and touch ups, which is just unacceptable.

As I thought about what I wanted to do with that down time, I thought about how terribly sleepy I've been the past couple of days and how desperately I've wanted a nap. I considered how wonderful crawling into bed and sleeping away the next hour would be.

Then I stopped.

Because I know myself too damn well. I have to remember the way that Sleepy Laura thinks and how heavily influenced her thoughts are by the Comfort Creature.

Let me first explain the Comfort Creature. He is the voice that says, "Don't go out there. Out there is cold. Stay in here with me, where it's warm."

He is the creation of my best friend and her boyfriend and I truly couldn't have put it better myself.

This is what I think the C.C. looks like:

source

I think you get the idea.

Now, I, Laura, can battle the C.C. wielding my weaponry of responsibility and productivity!

Unfortunately, Sleepy Laura has absolutely no defenses against this adorable foe.

Sleepy Laura also has absolutely no regard for me and my plans whatsoever.

Sleepy Laura thinks things like, "Just 20 more minutes...its okay, I'll just braid my hair and wear what I wore earlier." and "15 minutes is MORE than enough time to get fully dressed and ready for {insert big important event where lots of pictures will be taken.}"

Then, because of her thoughtlessness, I'm left looking a lot like this guy:

source

....with only 15 minutes to try to fix it.

Once Sleepy Laura has had a shot at my life, I inevitably end up late and looking haggard in 159 tagged facebook photos.

Not cool.

So, rather than take the nap that my body still desperately craves, I wrote this blog post...which took much less time than I had hoped.

There's my bed...1/2 an hour really couldn't hurt...I'll get up in time...

Love,

Lauka

Pre-emptive apology for tragic topics and poor writing

2011-04-05T17:04:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry.

What a terrible blogger I've been! Please forgive me for my lack of posts. I'll be better this month, really. I know I keep saying that, but I really mean it this time!

(don't hold me to that.)

Anywho, my most recent prompt comes from Klementina Sladkaya at Perceptions and Facts. She's a dear friend and a phenomenal writer. Go check out her blog!

{Socks}

The socks sat idly at the back of the drawer, that’s where they always were. Well, almost always. Once a month the socks came out of the drawer, pulled by a hand, small and fragile, shaking with anxiety. The hand belonged to a girl. That girl belonged to a man. The man had changed, but the socks never did. Each month the socks were drawn from the drawer and the girl tucked away a five-dollar bill. Sometimes the bill was new and crisp, others it was faded and torn, but the socks were always the same. Blue and orange socks at the back of the drawer where the man would never touch them, wear them, find them. The socks held more than money, they held secret dreams. The dreams became more real with each five-dollar bill. The shaking hands held the socks and the tremor grew with every creaking floor board and shutting door. The eyes looked at the socks and the mouth reached for a smile as the girl with the shaking hands and the socks and the five-dollar bills thought about the secret dreams. Within the dreams she saw something new, something different, something unafraid and unbound. The floor boards creaked and the door shut and the socks went back into the drawer.

The shaking hand reached to the back of the drawer, but found nothing. Where were the socks, where were the five-dollar bills, where were the dreams? The socks were on the floor. The eyes cried and the mouth twisted and the hands shook. The man was at the door.

The five-dollar bills are spent, the dreams are lost, and the girl with eyes and the mouth and the shaking hands is dead. But the socks never change, the socks are always the same and the socks are on the floor.

An Open Letter to Hannah Hillam by Tucker James Samuelsen

2011-03-09T14:11:00.000-08:00

The following note was written by my friend, Tucker addressed to another friend, Hannah.

It is absolutely worth reading.

Dearest Hannah

You watched your first episode of Lost on February 21st, President's Day. In the 16 days that have followed, I understand you have finished the first 5 seasons. I did a little number crunching for you.

You've watched 103 episodes of Lost in that time. Assuming an average run time of 42 minutes, that adds up to 72.1 hours. 16 days is 384 hours, so that means 18.7% of your life those 16 days has been spent watching Lost.

But it gets worse. Let's assume you sleep 7 hours a night. That means you've slept for 112 hours in those 16 days, so you've been awake for 272 hours. This means that 26.5% of your waking life has been spent watching Lost.

It still gets worse! You work 20 hours a week, and you're in class about 15 hours a week (both estimates). This means that you've been in class 36 hours, and you've worked for 48. This means awake leisure time adds up to 188 hours, of which Lost has been 38.2%.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average college student spends about .8 hours per day grooming, 1 hour eating, and 1.5 hours traveling per day. That's 2.3 hours per day, for a total 36.8 additional hours spent in those activities. (Source http://www.bls.gov/tus/charts/chart6.pdf). We're now at 151.2 hours, of which Lost has been 47.68% of your time. If we take off 6 more hours for Church or Church activites, that gets us to 49.6% Lost time.

So... in the last 2 or so weeks, about half of your free time has been spent watching Lost. Note that I haven't taken into account homework, or Sean make out time.

The moral of the story? Nothing. I was just curious. Love you Hannah!

In pie chart form.

Check out Hannah's blog, Verbal Vomit . She's a clever writer and a phenomenal illustrator.

Upon My Soapbox

2011-03-08T12:15:00.000-08:00

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I simply do not understand my peers. I don't understand the drinking, the complete lack of motivation, the disregard for others, and the self-involvement that others my age seem to endorse. To be clear, I understand that this is a sweeping generalization. I know several early-twenty-somethings that are high-functioning, upstanding and fairly mature member of society. I call these people my friends. However, the stigma attached to my generation is a fairly accurate one.

Now, in the past couple of days, something has been brought to my attention that I'd like to ~~go on a verbal tirade about~~ discuss.

Here's a bit of a back story about what brought my thoughts to the topic at hand:

A few days ago, my great grandmother passed away.

The following day, a young man that played on the rugby team I coached for a few years ago passed away during a match. This young man was the younger brother of one of my players.

Upon hearing the news of my great grandmother's death, friends and family shared their condolences and love via telephone, cards, facebook messages and stopping in. While I appreciated these kind words, at the time, I didn't think much of the way in which they were delivered.

"My condolences for the loss."

"I'm sorry to hear about your loss."

"My love and prayers are with your family at this time."

...and other such thoughts were expressed to us in the aforementioned ways.

After hearing about Matt's death, there was an email sent out to members of the Fort Collins rugby community explaining what had happened and expressing the sorrow that what felt in his passing. After reading the responses to this email and checking Matt's brother's facebook wall, I was absolutely in awe of the difference in the way people were expressing their condolences to Matt's family. When I say people, I mean those in my age group and younger. Messages were sent saying things along the lines of:

"OMG im so sorry!"

"That sucks, dude, seriously."

"im sooooooo sorry!"

Now, maybe I'm being nit picky, but I could not believe the casual manner of the latter expressions. If there was sincerity behind those words, I certainly couldn't feel it.

Is eloquence an art lost to this and upcoming generations? Are social networking sites making it all too easy for us to lose any semblance of grammar, not to mention etiquette, structures?

Am I being pretentious? It's entirely possible. I have no qualms with a language shifting, changing, and progressing to fit a progressive society. Unfortunately, I believe that the language brought upon us by the ease of communication is a regression. Words are a powerful tool to be used in expressing thoughts, ideas, concepts and feelings. When used well, we can adequately express most of the aforementioned with honesty and sincerity.

This has gotten verbose.

What I'm trying to say, really, is that while "my condolences" may seem cliche and overused, it sure beats the hell out of "OMG dude, that totes sucks! im srsly soooooo sorry."

Thoughts?

Friday Fiction on a Moody Monday

2011-02-28T12:58:00.000-08:00

Today's prompt comes from The One-Minute Writer, but I've had the cleverest idea. Unfortunately, like many ideas, it will only work if [you] are willing to help.

Rather than taking prompts from other sites, I would like to take them from you. I'd like you, my darling readers, to leave a comment whenever you feel so inclined, with a word, concept, event, etc. on which you would like me to write. Assuming I like it, you'll get a post responding to your prompt within a timely manner.

Isn't this going to be fun?

I think so.

Any who, away we go.

{Glove}

The worn leather feels soft and malleable in Jack's hands as he picks up the glove. With a bit of hesitation, he slides it onto his left hand and it feels familiar and safe, just like it always did. He smiles a small crooked smile, almost a smirk, as he recalls his first times playing catch and his father's insistence that Jack wear the glove on his right hand. He remembers wanting desperately to please his father, but feeling clumsy and stupid every time the ball slipped out of his small hand. He was so little then, so unaware of himself. After weeks of this behavior, his mother disregarded her husband's grumbles and bought Jack a left handed glove. The change in his ability was almost instantaneous. A succession of remembered practices and games spanning his life follow that first spark of a memory. An ache begins to grow within him, threatening to steal his breath right out of his lungs and stop his heart. Jack slides the glove off of his hand and sets it gently inside the box, knowing that he must not entertain the thoughts of a lost future. Those thoughts would certainly destroy him and all of the hopes he has for a 'normal' life. At the young age of 21, he must change paths, change dreams, simplify and grasp onto something, anything, that will keep his spirit alive. He closes the box in front of him, hiding away trophies, balls, gloves, and his past in darkness. His arms, now weak from long recovery, strain as they pull the box onto his lap. Jack picks up a different kind of glove and slides his fingers into it. It's small and fits snugly, allowing his fingers to move freely. It feels new and unfamiliar, but it keeps his hand from getting sore as he grips the hard, black rubber of the wheels on his new chair.

Along with prompts, I would love more feed back from my followers. I want to know your thoughts, reactions and ideas. So, if you read it, comment on it.

Love,

Lauka

Following a [prompt]ing

2011-02-22T17:44:00.000-08:00

Until I get better at this, I cleave to prompts for blogspiration. (<---did you enjoy that poor attempt at cleverness?)

After googling (why is that not a real word yet?) "daily blog prompts," I went from link to link trying to find a prompt or prompts that I liked, because what is the point of writing about something that doesn't interest you? I found a site that's called The One-Minute Writer which supplies daily prompts and the writer is expected to take just one minute to write about that prompt. My favorite of the prompts are entitled Fiction Fridays. You're given a word and then meant to write a piece of short fiction. I'm going to take more than one minute and I'm going to change the prompts to suit my needs. Ok?

ok.

Another Almost Fiction

[scent]

I move through the mall like a zombie, ~~preying~~ praying that I find the object of my desire soon so that I can leave before my entire soul is torn from me. All I want is white pumps to go with my pink floral dress. I move from store to store and hate every version of a white high heel that I find. None of the options are outright ugly, but they aren't what I want, so I hate them. I haven't showered yet, I have to pee, I'm tired and I'm hungry. I find myself in full on failure to thrive mode while trapped in a place that makes my natural social anxiety sky rocket.
I can't imagine this situation being any worse. Apparently my imagination needs some work because without any warning, it does, in fact, get worse. As I make my way into a department store, past the make up and perfume counters, I am overwhelmed with a scent that turns my stomach. I recognize the scent instantly and my emotion cage rattles inside me, threatening to let loose everything I've locked so carefully inside of it. I should be used to it now, it's everywhere, on every campus, in every restaurant, walking around on every college boy with an abercrombie t-shirt and crooked baseball cap. It's a scent I used to crave, seek, love. Yet, it catches me off-guard every time, thrusting me into a downward spiral of anger, sadness, fear and depression. Why does it offend me so? Simply because he wore it. I was intoxicated by it in every loving embrace and tender kiss. It enveloped me every time I fell asleep in his arms and it lingered on my clothes for days. It was a scent I couldn't escape and I suppose it still is.

This is about luggage...and stuff.

2011-02-10T17:22:00.000-08:00

Remember when I wrote this?

"10. I am just one fanny pack away from being a hipster."

You should, it was only 3ish days ago.

This statement is not longer true.

I bought a fanny pack today; a pretty legit one at that.

I also bought something that I hope to make into a fanny pack, which will far outshine the first one.

I also have a little thing I call 'luggage lust.'

Let me explain:

5 beautiful pieces of luggage.

I'm hoping to turn the top tan suitcase into something along these lines:

source

The others, I just couldn't resist.

As I was loading these little gems into the cart, my friend wondered aloud if he should be concerned about my motives for buying the luggage. "You might just pick up and leave and we couldn't have that..."

I am not fleeing anywhere.....not right now anyways.

I just like the look of the luggage and the pictures, ideas, hopes, and dreams that it inspires.

Hmm...would it be 'that they inspire' or 'that it inspires'?

Oh, also, please excuse any grammar or spelling errors you may find in the last few posts. They were written in haste and I hadn't the time nor the inclination to proof read them.

One day late

2011-02-10T11:22:00.000-08:00

Day 30 (insert wild applause here): A photograph of myself today and three good things that have happened in the past 30 days.

Another opportunity to post a picture of myself?

~~Hellz Yes~~.

No...no, I couldn't. Well, if you insist.

I was still up at 4 am this morning browsing my new favorite website, I don't even like soup, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of my computer screen. I thought to myself, "Hm, that girl is awfully pretty."

Don't you jump off about how self-centered or arrogant I am.

I'm not really.

Its just that sometimes, I think I am very pretty. I think everyone should step outside themselves and from an unbiased perspective, recognize that they are very beautiful. We can be so mean to ourselves.

So many wonderful things have happened in the last 30 days.

1. I've formed some friendships that I feel comfortable, happy, and safe in. (I remember promising to introduce you them in a post. I will uphold that promise soon.)

2. I went on easily the best date I've ever been on and have been given reason to hope that maybe, just maybe this might work out.

3. I booked trips to Mile High Blues (march) and Washington D.C. (april) and planned for one of my best friends to come stay with me in just a couple of weeks.

That's really not even the half of everything that's been going on the past month, but for now, it will suffice.

Who's going to take the challenge next?

How hard can this be? Continued.

2011-02-08T16:16:00.000-08:00

Day 26: A photo of somewhere I've been.

In 2006, my rugby team went to Portland, Maine for the National Championship. On the last day of our trip, we spent time in Boston and I absolutely fell in love with it. I love the streets, the architecture, the stores, and the living pulse of the city.

I found this little outdoor bookstore in one of the alleys that my friends and I ventured down and was just taken by the bookshelves built into the walls, the painting above it and the idea that a business could thrive in a rainy back alley of Boston. Its just so very bohemian.

Day 27: A photo of myself last year and now and how I've changed.

January 2010

February 2011

I've already discussed what's changed here.

I suppose it isn't really asking what's changed in my life but how I've changed.

Truth be told, I don't think I've changed much in the past year.

I suppose I am making a more concerted effort towards becoming the person I want to be, so...that's something.

Day 28: My favorite movie.

"That Donnie Darko DVD has been repeating for a week and we know every single word." -The Limousines

source

28:6:42:12

That is when the world will end.

Day 29: Something I could never get tired of doing.

Whoa...I honestly don't think I have an answer to this one.

I have the absolute opposite of an obsessive personality.

No matter how much I love something, there's such a thing as "too much of a good thing."

I am officially entirely caught up!

Thanks for sticking with me on that. I really do appreciate all of my lovely blog stalkers!

I hope I kept you at least mildly entertained while you got to learn way more than you wanted to about me.

Thanks for following, tell your friends!

Love,

Lauka

How hard can this be?

2011-02-08T15:42:00.000-08:00

On January 9th, 2011, I started the 30 day blog challenge along with two friends.

We are now one day away from the end of that challenge and while both of my friends are perfectly caught up, I am dismally behind.

This post is my attempt to catch up.

Bear with me, eh?

Day 17: A photo of me and my family.

My mom, my brother and I at my high school graduation.

Please note how magnificently the ketchup red gown clashes with my auburn hair.

Please also note that I'm basically just a darker version of my mother.

Day 18: Something I crave a lot.

Erm....Oh, I got it!

Its the worst, really.

I've been doing really well fighting this craving lately.

Day 19: Another picture of myself.

Don't you just love how well this challenge plays into my self involvement?

I do.

BYU Vintage Swing Dance.

I absolutely [loved] this outfit.

Day 20: The meaning behind my blog name.

About two years ago, I met a man named Jon at a ward ice cream social. When he read my name tag, he thought that my name was Lauka, because my Rs looks a whole lot like Ks. I realized he was right when I signed a note or a letter (I can't remember which) "Love, Lauka."

He and his new, charming wife, both of whom are still very good friends of mine, call me that and it's just kind of stuck. I think its one of the best nick names I've ever had.

So, there you have it.

Day 21: A photo of something that makes you happy.

How could I even begin to pick one thing that makes me happy?

I sha'n't.

These people make me unbelievably happy.

This is basically the conversation that Katherine (the one dressed as Misty from Pokemon) and I have every time we leave an activity with this group: "So, I really love those people." "Yeah, me too. They make me really happy."

Day 22: A letter to someone who has hurt you recently.

This is a tough one because it requires that I share a pretty vulnerable side with all of you friendlies out there on the internetz, but my therapist said I need to work on allowing myself to be more vulnerable.

I'll give it a try.

Dear Roberto,

The way you introduced yourself was charming and enticing and I'll admit that it was my own naivety that allowed our predicament. I am very aware that I am far too trusting and hopeful a person. However, you abused not only that trust, but me as well. From the beginning you had the upper hand, I in no way thought I was stronger than you, but I still fought while I could. You pushed until I was too exhausted to fight anymore...and then you pushed further. You broke down my defenses, stole from me every ounce of strength I had, and then you walked away.

I can't even begin to fully explain the emotional mess that was left in your wake. There was denial, followed by anger, which gave way to sadness. Luckily, despite everything you stripped from me, I found buried deep inside the tiniest bit of hope. When I focused on this hope, it grew and pushed out everything else. That hope is what I grasp onto on my dark days when I can feel the angst creeping in. I am no longer angry with you and never once did I blame you entirely. I just pray that you felt something; some remorse for what happened.

That's all.

Love,

Lauka

Day 23: 15 facts about me.

1. I am a very defensive driver.

2. I have a large vocabulary of expletives that I rarely use, but would make a sailor blush.

3. I am still striving to overcome my crippling fear of moths.

4. I thoroughly enjoy playing D&D.

5. I am even worse at journaling than I am blogging.

6. I have cried, on more than one occasion, over not being able to find pants that fit right.

7. I have had my car for 3 years, her name is Poison Ivy and we have a very strong bond.

8. I joke about becoming a trophy wife and never having to work again, but I know that I would be bored and depressed all the time without anything to do.

9. I love trashy reality shows like Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Real Housewives and Teen Mom.

10. I am just one fanny pack away from being a hipster.

11. I truly do not understand the majority of my generation.

12. I am much better at holding conversations with people over 60 and even better at conversing with people over 60 who have dementia or alzheimers.

13. I compliment people when I see something worth complimenting and I do it sincerely. This is often mistaken for outrageous flirting. That won't stop me.

14. I love dancing because it allows me to connect with someone without having to let them get emotionally close to me.

15. It stresses me out a little when I make plans with friends that are more than a month or two out.

Day 24: A photo of something that means a lot to me.

When I was 18, I got this tattooed on my back and my mom got it on her foot. A year or so later, my uncle also got this tattoo and my aunt made a ring with this on it.

This is our clan (McNeil of Barra) in Gaelic. Translated, it means "Conquer or die."

It is representative of a very close connection to family and heritage.

Day 25: What's in your purse?

Usually, this is all I carry with me:

Its the smallest wallet I could hope for. Its just big enough for my IDs, debit cards, cash and a few other random cards and it fits perfectly into my back pocket.

However, my aunt made me this very cute purse for Christmas, which makes me more inclined to carry it.

Therefore, when I do, on occasion, carry my purse, this is what it has in it:

My Planner, a journal, a pen, a book, a water bottle, my Ipod and my chapstick.

Remember that one time...

2011-01-29T14:27:00.000-08:00

I said I would only check facebook once a day for no more than 15 minutes.
I think that might have been a bit brash...
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm still going to cut down my time a little bit. I will no longer let facebook keep me from doing worth while and productive things.

In other news, I have missed 5 days of my 30 day blogging challenge.
[oops]
So, today's post will be covering days 13-16. I'll go over 17 & 18 tomorrow so as not to overwhelm.
And aaaaway we go!

13: Favorite band and why.

This is hard. I'm not sure I can pinpoint just one favorite. What I'll do here is give you my top 3.

1. Brand New:

Jesse Lacey's voice is just the most heartbreakingly beautiful sound. It's powered by a quiet conviction that testifies to each word of every song. I've felt more connected to Brand New's music than I have to a lot of people.

2. Say Anything

I was introduced to this band by a man I may have loved in a time when I needed it most. The lyrics are clever and how could you not love Max's voice. There's an honesty in these songs that has always captivated me.

3. Oh, Sleeper

Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by emotion, whether it be anger, sadness, guilt, joy, etc. and said emotion simply cannot be contained within this weak body of mine. It needs a release. When my soul feels like screaming, I turn to Oh, Sleeper. It was my first Christian Screamo love and the music is a reassurance that there are others that feel just as afraid, unworthy and [human] as I do.

14: TV show I'm addicted to right now.

Truthfully, I'm not. Occasionally I'll catch up on Community, Outsourced or the IT crowd.

That's all.

15:Something I never leave my house without.

I cannot think of a single thing that I've never left my house without...except for clothing of course.

Though, if we went with [almost] never, that changes things a bit.

I [almost] never leave without my phone, my wallet, or my car keys, which is pretty standard. Nothing too exciting, eh?

16: My celebrity crush.

Easy.

Jake Gyllenhaal

source

Would you just look at that face. Just look!

It helps that Donnie Darko is one of the best movies of all time.

I submit that Jake is just the loveliest man alive.

He is, however, closely seconded by the ever perfect

Ewan McGregor

source

"He's got a [huge] talent!"

I think that pretty much covers it.

When you're right you're right and you're right

2011-01-22T18:30:00.000-08:00

"If she took 1 hour away from the 8 hours a day she spend on facebook, she could play."

I'm paraphrasing a bit, but this is the general idea of something my best friend said about me.

I got really upset, which could be partially due to my current uterus rating of not awesome, but after thinking a bit, I think its because I know, somewhere deep inside the recesses of my brain, that she's not wrong.

Not really. I spend entirely too much time on facebook.

I spend enough time on facebook that I am legitimately neglecting living my life.

I hate that. I hate facebook.

Will I delete it?

No.

Will I cut back on my facebook usage substantially.

Without a doubt.

Starting tonight, I check facebook once a day and for no more than 15 minutes.

Done and done.

Its just a town, isn't it?

2011-01-22T18:10:00.000-08:00

Day 12 is a picture of the town I live in.

I don't know that I like this post especially much, because the truth is that I don't think the photographs that Google offers can really tell much about the town at all. Overall, from a birds eye view, is one town really different from any other? What I wish I had, what I desperately wish I could show you is a picture of what the town is to me.

For most of the U.S., Provo, Utah stands for one thing.

BYU

And therefore, Mormons.

Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that. There's not.

The problem is that if you're Mormon and you grew up outside of Utah, there tends to be a very biased view of the people that live here.

Self Righteous seems to be the term most used.

Overly processed, fake, and arrogant are some other words that I'm guilty of using.

I use the term [guilty] intentionally.

I have no right to make such sweeping generalizations about such a large mass of people.

The truth is that I've met some of the most humble, genuine, kind, and real people you could ever hope to know in this town.

So, of course its the buildings, the streets, the concrete, the metal, the grass...that's what makes the town.

But what a town [is] what it really [is] lies within the people that perpetuate life within its boundaries.

For me, a picture like this:

source

...could never do my town justice.

What you need to see is the people and the way they live and love and breathe and move and make this town worth living in.

Turns me to Gold in the sunlight

2011-01-20T15:37:00.000-08:00

Day 11: What's in your make up bag?

Enter the Make up 'bag.'

My mom and I were driving one day and passed some luggage abandoned on the side of the road. It looked like it was meant for the trash, so we stopped and picked it up. This was a piece of the set and I absolutely fell in love with it. It took some convincing to get my mom to let me "take care of it" for her.

Let's take a look inside, shall we?

Isn't the inside just lovely as well?

....It's even lovelier when its not full to the brim.

That's the thing about things this size, it fits quite a bit of nonsense. I rarely use most of what's in here.

Now, here's what I use on the regular:

Okay, okay...maybe I don't use the moustache that regularly, but more often than you would think.

It's all just basics, really:

Cover up

Powder

Mascara

Eyeliner

Eyebrow Pencil

I also have some devastatingly red lipstick that I just can't find right now.

Oh well, there it is. Now, wasn't that exciting?

Where does it all go?

2011-01-19T15:06:00.000-08:00

Day 10: A picture of the last thing you purchased.

Okay, okay, okay, so this isn't the [last] thing I purchased, but it's the most important.

I am officially registered for Mile High Blues 2011 and I couldn't be more excited!

Last year, I danced a cumulative 27 hours and slept a total of 11.

I'm hoping to beat that this year my upping the cumulative dance hours, even if it means lowering total sleeping hours.

I'll also be competing in the Jack & Jill Social Dance contest that I think I might have a decent chance of placing in. (As long as I put in the practice the next few months.)

MHB2010 was easily one of the best experiences of my life and I'm sure that 2011 is going to blow that out of the water.

Day 10: A picture of my favorite place to eat.

This one is a tie between

My grandparents' house

[my escape from real life]

and

source

Dempsey's, which is an incredible restaurant in Fort Collins, Colorado owned by my former rugby coach's wife, Amy.

I worked there for about a year and I loved it.

This is also where my mom and I always went and always go for our lady dates when we're in town.

If you're in the area, I highly recommend this for your eating enjoyment.

If you don't know by now, I'm terribly clever.

Had you been at BYU swing club last night, you might have overheard me say something along the lines of,

"Ya know, ovaries are the chickens of the reproductive system."

Think about it.

source

I think we're super stars

2011-01-17T23:01:00.000-08:00

Day 8: A song that represents your mood.

Yeah, that's it.

I can dig it

2011-01-16T01:03:00.000-08:00

Remember that time I said I would do two of these in one day to catch up....and then didn't.

I'm going to now.

Fo' real.

What day am I on again...?

Oh right, 6: A picture of an animal I'd like to have as a pet.

source

You're probably thinking, "That's a dog. Everybody has a dog. You're boring."

But you can just shut up because you really can't tell me that this isn't the greatest looking dog you've ever seen.

(No, seriously, don't even try.)

I've wanted this kind of dog forever and ever amen.

15 minutes later (all sorts of distracted by the Gentle Giants adoption site)

Alrighty, moving right along...

Day 7: My dream wedding.

What's funny is that I seriously struggled with the perfect first date, but dream wedding is completely planned....ya know, minus the groom.

The dangers of being a girl, living with girls, living in Provo and working at a reception center.

So...uh...yeah, are you ready?

Here we go.

Colors

Plum Purple

source

Fall Red

source

Vintage Gold

source

Got that?

Good.

Bouquet:

Vintage Brooch Bouquet [so perfect]

source

The Dress:

Perfectly retro in every way.

source

Shoes:

Lovely.

source

...at least until the reception.

word.

source

...or...

Yeeeeah!

source

I wrote all of the above about 6 hours ago.
At the time, it all made sense that those things are what make the 'dream wedding.'
And ya know, all of those things would be really great.
[but]
The truth is that if at the end of my wedding day, I am eternally bound to my best friend, lover, and companion, there is nothing more I could possibly hope or ask for.
And life would be a [dream]
That's it. That's all.

There's no point in going back to yesterday...

2011-01-14T08:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was super extra busy, so I missed day 5.

Don't fret, that just means you get TWO posts in one day

How stoked are you? Go ahead, be honest.

I already know that this blog is the highlight of your very existence and you dream about the time I will post again, cursing the heavens when I miss a day.

Don't worry, I get it.

scoff

Ahem...anyways

Day 5: A picture of myself from 2 years ago.

Liberty, Missouri circa 2009

...because I wasn't the same person then.

(I do love this picture. I think I was awfully pretty.)

Cleverly Named 4th day post

2011-01-12T23:08:00.000-08:00

Day 4: My favorite picture of my best friend.

[Katherine Renee Gee]

I've already done an entire post dedicated to my Best Friend.

So, I'll keep this short.

I believe this photograph gets right down to everything that makes Katherine who she is.

The best way to put it is this:

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

She is everything described in this and more.

She is the embodiment of life and passion, in all its beauty and a bit of it's darkness.

Katherine defines what it is to be human in the most open and real way.

I love her for it because she's teaching me to be the same; to not fear life or myself.

She loves openly and unconditionally.

What's your best friend like?

P.S. My dear friend, Lindy, has joined the 30 day challenge! Go check out her responses to the daily prompts :D

I don't date.

2011-01-11T22:39:00.000-08:00

Day Three: My idea of a perfect first date.

I'll be honest and just say that I don't love this one. Mostly because I have absolutely no idea what my perfect first date would be. I certainly haven't dated enough to have had it yet and I don't even know what I'm looking for right now.

So, I'll just throw out what I have in my head and hope that will do. I apologize if it's a bit rambly.

Picture, if you will, the party scene in Say Anything.

This is it.

Only, I'd like it to be at a social dance; maybe swing or blues. I'd be dancing with other men and he'd be dancing with other women, but every once and a while he'd just find me and make sure that I'm doing alright. It would be perfectly pleasant and fun and there wouldn't be any pressure at all. Every few dances, we would find each other and have a really good, deep, connected dance.

Afterward, we would walk and hold hands and talk. He wouldn't think the things I said were too silly. In fact, he would agree and build upon my thoughts, weaving them into a beautiful tapestry of joy. (I'll pause while you vomit over the mushy nature of that last sentence.)

He'd be funny and I'd be clever and we would laugh and flirt and just be happy.

source

That's basically it for now. I'm sure I'll reread this tomorrow and think, "Man, I'm a total fool." I wouldn't be wrong.

What's your idea of a "perfect" first date?

Update 1/12/2011:
What the eff was ^that all about?
Man...I'm a total fool.
Maybe I don't date because I say crap like that in public....or maybe its because I'm kind of a hussy, try too hard, and make people mildly uncomfortable.
Eh....the world may never know.
All I know is that [that] would not be my perfect first date. I don't even know what would be, but definitely not that.

A craving subdued

2011-01-10T23:04:00.000-08:00

It's day 2 of the challenge!

Day 2: A photo of something I ate today.

I made the serious decision on my way home from work that I wanted nothing more in this world than Oreos and milk. Incidentally, I have Celiac Disease, so real Oreos are out of the question but the Gluten Free chocolate sandwich cookies do the trick. When I got home, peanut butter sounded like the best possible thing to put on the cookie pre-eating. So that's just what I did.

It's everything I thought it would be and more.

This is the part of the post where I talk about my life:

I've been working on spending more time with Katherine's* boyfriend and friends, because they really are wonderful and make a concerted effort to be my friends. I think they're great and we all nerd out in the worst way together. Something that I have yet to be able to relate with is the passion for Pokemon. When I was little and all the kids were trading Pokemon cards and watching the show, my interest was turned towards playing basketball and football and such. Little did I know that I would regret this decision in my early twenties. Our group of clever, intelligent, nerdy misfits usually ends up sitting around in Griffin's* basement playing N64, Taboo, or just existing together. Inevitably the conversation turns to Pokemon and I find myself feeling completely lost for not knowing what Legendary means. Nor can I sing the theme song with them or name my favorites. They can talk about it from everlasting to everlasting and I still don't [catch it all.] (Eh, eh, get it?)

I also can't count the number of times they corrected the way I say the word. It's not Pok[ee]mon, it's Pok[ay]mon. Don't get it twisted.

I'm going to do extensive research until I can at least hold my own while playing Pokemon Stadium or Snap.

Are there any trends or fads you regret not getting more into? If so, what and why?

*I'll have a post shortly after this one introducing the people that will be making frequent appearances in my posts.

Becoming a Better Blogger

2011-01-09T21:05:00.000-08:00

Today, my dear friend at Sarah Says... decided that she'll be doing the 30 day blog challenge.

In an effort to learn to blog with some amount of consistency and to blog about things people might actually care about, I'll be joining Sarah in this challenge.

Here goes nothin'!

Day 1: A photo of myself and a description of my day

I have an abiding love for low exposure and high saturation.

I woke this morning to my best friend telling me to scoot over so she could climb into bed with me. She just wanted to sleep next to me and I was perfectly okay with that. However, not long after, she had to run off to choir and by this time I was fully awake. So, I got up and started my day, which, of course, begins and ends with Facebook. As I was checking my facebook, I realized that it's Sunday and got pretty excited. Sunday means new secrets at PostSecret.

(If you don't know what this is, I suggest you go there immediately, then return to finish reading this post. Its a truly amazing project.)

Unfortunately, my initial feelings towards today were pretty apathetic. I had absolutely no desire to get pretty and go to church...but I did it anyway. The apathy lasted through Relief Society and was threatening to push on through the whole day. It caused me to stay right were I was sitting, rather than move to another classroom. This was probably the best decision I unintentionally made all day. My friend was teaching the lesson and to my surprise, he is one of the best doctrine teachers I've ever had. He knows the gospel and teaches with conviction. Any ounce of apathy I had within me dissipated during that lesson.

Upon returning home, Katherine and I ate dinner and I started in on the absolute [disaster area] that was my room. It was necessary that my room be cleaned today, because when my room is messy, my life feels messy. It's been stressing me out for a while now and it is such a relief to have it clean. I always get a bit anxious when I begin the de-cluttering process. It usually involves me sitting and staring woefully at my room, wondering where in the hell all of this stuff came from. Then I begin to slowly but surely sort through things and makes piles. Its around that step that I start to feel the cathartic powers of cleaning and really get into it. Nothing is quite as gratifying as having a beautifully clean and organized room.

Sub-Story:

About a week ago, I decided that my car could overcome the large amounts of snow to park in a space in the parking lot. I maneuvered her just fine, but when I tried to back out, just to make sure I could, she was stuck as could be. I tried and I tried and I tried, but she wasn't going anywhere. As I was kicking snow from under the tires and pathetically attempting to maneuver poor Ivy back out of the spot, a young man pulled up and started taking things up to his apartment. Upon noticing my predicament, he offered to help. He pushed while I reversed and it was a success! I thanked him profusely and got back in to move to a different spot. She was still stuck. He came back and helped again until we were [sure] that she was unstuck.

So, I made that lovely man brownies and took them too him about a half an hour ago. He's absolutely darling in a shy sort of way. I think we'll be friends.

Now, that wasn't the most interesting of posts, but it certainly was a start, eh?

Anniversaries and the Anxious Reds

2010-12-20T19:54:00.000-08:00

1 year and 3 days ago, I moved into this town and into this apartment and more importantly, I started Blues dancing.

[1 year]

Let's begin talking about what has changed in the past year:
1. This year, I have friends to be with. (instead of sitting on that there couch, watching obscene amounts of TV by myself.)
2. I have red hair instead of Rogue hair.
3. I have finished my 2nd year of college. (And am once again preparing for a major change and school transfer.)
4. I have given up on dating and men entirely. (again)
5. I live with my very best friend.
6. I am an infinitely better dancer than I was before.
7. I have a job.
8. ...and lots of other fantastic type things.

However fantastic life is, I can't fight these Anxious Reds that find their way into my body every 6 months or so.
I want to pack everything back into Poison Ivy and run away.
I bet Seattle is lovely.
Maybe I'd like Austin.
Perhaps I'd like anywhere but right here right now.

If I had any money, I'd run.

Probably best that I don't.

Nair-Do-Well: A Hair Removal Misadventure

2010-12-10T12:44:00.000-08:00

Around thanksgiving, an off-hand comment of a friend thrust me into puddle of insecurity about the hair on my arms.

(Yeah, that's pretty much what I looked like)

So, naturally, I shaved it all the off the next day. Now, if you've never shaved your arms, let me just tell you it is very time consuming and very inefficient. For the sake of upkeep, I figured I'd turn to Nair; my blade-free hair removal friend.

My first time trying Nair was a few years ago and I distinctly remember it not working. Despite this, my laziness made me think I should go ahead and give it another try and that is just what I did.

On my way home from work today, I stopped at Target and bought both body and facial Nair. I got home, popped open the box, skipped right over the warnings and went straight to the instructions. I slathered on a good amount and hopped in the shower.

Now, I have a general idea of how this stuff works. I know that it's basically just burning the hair right out of your skin, so I didn't worry too much when it started to burn a little. I waited approximately the right amount of time and used the little sponge dealy to wipe it off. It took the hair off beautifully and left my arms silky smooth.

Unfortunately, it also left my skin a bit angry. Angry enough, in fact, that it shot up little ticked off hives and lots of splochy, red areas, with just a bit of burning.

Fantastic.

Turns out, under the Warnings that I willfully ignored, it gives some pretty good advice. It says something along the lines of, "Don't be an idiot and slap this stuff all over your arms on your first go, because you might have an adverse reaction causing your skin to fall off and everyone to hate you. Instead, try it on a small spot, wait a day, and if you haven't turned into one of the 10 lepers, go for it!"

The rash is already gone, but I'm pretty wary of putting that on my face.... can't cover my face up with sleeves quite as well.

What am I going to do when the hair grows back?

I'm still lazy and I still hate shaving... is it worth the rash for beautiful, feminine, hairless arms?

(It might be more worth it if it made me look like this. Just sayin'...)

Danny and Annie

2010-12-10T10:01:00.001-08:00

This kind of love is all I could truly ever hope for.

I don't own Toms.

2010-12-09T16:43:00.000-08:00

Confession: I am overwhelmingly attracted to hipster men.

I'm not talking about the Happy Valley Hipsters that plague my university with they're matching v-necks, skinny jeans, vans, perfect hair and smarmy grins.

These men walk around listening to sickening amounts of Death Cab for Cutie and the Plain White Ts on their ipods, which are, of course, securely tucked inside their brown leather 'vintage' bags. If asked about anything of interest (i.e. art, music, news, literature) they'll spout off on the latest article they read in this or that class. These men are of absolutely no consequence to me.

No, no, no, give me the men with disheveled hair, a nice beanie, well groomed facial hair, converse and a hint of aloofness. I want a man that's a bit shy at first, but will talk for hours about what he heard on All Things Considered, or the newest addition to his fixie, or that surrealist exhibit at the downtown art museum.

Now, here's the problem with that:

I am not their type.

I honestly just do not look a bit like a cute hipster girl. I'm not that thin, pigeon toed, doe-eyed, beautiful hot mess of a girl that graces the american apparel ads. My hair never falls in those perfect "why, yes, I did just roll out of bed" waves and no matter what I do, I will never master the lanky, floaty walk. Nor can I quite capture that cute uninterested/shy/cocky look that they do so well.

Though I can be painfully pretentious, occasionally verging on arrogant, I can't help but feel entirely inadequate among my hipster friends.

What do I do to woo one of these lovely bohemian souls?

Help me!

This post reminds me of this song.

"Where does the shed go?"

2010-11-26T17:38:00.000-08:00

I am truly thankful for incredible family.

This year for Thanksgiving, I made the hour drive up to my grandparents' house in Clearfield.

There, my grandparents, aunt and cousins were already preparing dinner.

For my contribution, I was asked to bring a gluten free* dessert to share. I fully intended to make a pie. So, Wednesday night, I took the crust dough out of the freezer to thaw. Unfortunately it didn't thaw by morning. Also, pies take 2 hours to make...and a pie pan. My pie became brownies pretty quickly. Kind of an early morning Thanksgiving miracle if you will.

Anywho, this was easily the smallest Thanksgiving gathering I've ever been too.

Up until about 3 years ago (pre-high school graduation) the majority of my extended family lived in Utah or Colorado, which made large Dysfunctional Family Fests a breeze. Well, as far as getting everyone together went. So, that's what we did. It wasn't unusual to have 15 to 20 people milling about, grazing, cooking, laughing, playing or arguing at my grandparent's home in Colorado around 2 o'clock Thanksgiving day. We watched the parade, set up the absurdly large, wobbly table, argued over who had to sit at the kid's table and ate while my grandma, mom and aunts cooked. Now, they weren't called Dysfunctional Family Fests for no reason. Like we've always said, "It's not really a family party until someone leaves crying."

The year or so around my senior year, the members of my family were scattered to the winds for various reasons. Which makes large family gatherings a bit more challenging. Last year, I spent Thanksgiving with a friend's large, lovely family. I missed my family, but was very grateful for the generosity of my friend and his family. It was a great time and I didn't feel unwelcome for a moment.

This year, it was just my grandparent's, my aunt and her sons, and me.

It was calm, fairly quiet, and relaxing but definitely not lacking in humor and fun.

This is what happens when my 14 year old cousin is in charge of setting the table. "Pop" art (i.e. random stuff) center pieces and paper airplane napkins.

Log O' Cranberry

(one of these things is not like the others...)

My darling grandparents preparing the turkey.

Overheard during the evening:

(while decorating the Christmas tree)

Ian (8): holding up a nativity ornament Where does the shed go?

(while getting ready to leave)

Me: So, 'girding up your loins' just means 'put your pants on!'

Erin and Grandma: Well, no. A Gird is like...armor that goes *here*

Grandpa: So when you go to war, you don't get your tallywacker cut off...

Did I mention that I [love] my family?

"My God, how great thou art"

2010-11-06T09:12:00.000-07:00

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints.

I know that Christ lives. I know that He took my sins upon Him that I may have eternal life and return to my Father in Heaven. I know that God loves me, knows me by name and answers my prayers.

I know that the fullness of the gospel was restored to the earth by the Prophet, Joseph Smith.

I know that we have living prophets. I sustain these prophets as true seers and revelators ordained by God.

I know that I am a child of my Heavenly Father. I know that great things are required of me and that great blessings are in store.

I know that this gospel is true.

What do you believe?

Watch me [burn] Hear me [cry]

2010-11-02T21:27:00.000-07:00

Turn it up. Sing along with every word. Let it move through you. Fight the urge to dance, cry, scream. [feel]

I [love] this song and subsequently this video.

A few weeks ago someone asked me why I love this song.

I've been considering the 'why' and though I'm still trying to work out the best way to put my feelings into words, this is my 'why:'

The music itself inspires movement. I get an ache that can only be satiated by allowing myself to move genuinely to the beats.

That's on the fairly superficial level.

Here's where it gets real.

I identify with every word.

I know what it feels like to burn, love, hate, cry and break in a relationship.

I've been told to end it, tried to end it, then tried again to make it work.

I've promised, changed my mind, apologized and lied a million times over.

I know that's not what love should be, but I know that's what it can be.

Love can offer comfort, warmth and safety and in an instant, can explode, consume, and destroy.

I feel the passion in the words and the music and the voices.

I [feel]

That's the point, really. This song makes me feel.

Lesson of the day

2010-11-01T21:35:00.000-07:00

Incidentally, eating fajitas then going for a run makes me want to throw up.
Go figure.
Also, I [love] running.

This is a lame blog post. I'll come up with a better one soon.

"She had nothing to hide from him..."

2010-09-10T20:02:00.000-07:00

"...nothing to keep unstated, everything was granted, answered, found."

With all the weddings, engagements and relationships I see occurring and forming around me daily, there is something that has been on my mind fairly often.

Can you guess what the something is?

[Love]

How does one find it and once it's found how does one know that its real?

I've had 3 very close friends of mine get married within the past 4 months and I have been honored to be a bridesmaid in each wedding.

Now these friends of mine, formerly individuals, will be eternally connected to another person.

I've heard the marital terms all my life, but for some reason the words husband and wife seem so foreign to me when uttered by these friends. Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I call their spouses their boyfriends or fiancees and they don't skip a beat to correct me.

"He's my husband."

I like the idea of falling in love very much. I like the very personal side of falling in love; of always having someone to come home to, and to cuddle, love, support, and run to.

What I can't seem to get my head around is that inextricable link to another person for eternity. Nor can I understand that need that I see in other people, the need to constantly be in contact with a significant other. I can't see myself in a state of being in which it is painful to not be able to speak to or see another person every day.

At this point there is not a single person in my life that I am so irrevocably attached to.

That's not to say that I don't love people or have very personal connections and deep relationships. I do.

I just don't feel a strong pull to be with them always.

Maybe that's how you know...

I'm certain that when I find that, I will understand completely and be perfectly content to want and need another person so intensely.

To quote one of my favorite movies of all time,

"I know about love, if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being."

Moulin Rouge

Here is what I want:

I want to love someone.

I want to dance on kitchen floors.

I want to make mistakes and argue and be unreasonable and know that I am still loved eternally.

I want to love an imperfect person imperfectly and be perfectly happy that way.

I want to make a house a home.

I want to share the fear and the joy of raising children with someone.

I want to sleep next to someone every night.

I want to be a part of a bigger, grander, undefinable something.

I want to be exalted and build worlds with someone.

I want someone to understand that that's not too terribly much to ask and to want those things too.

The Eward Epidemic

2010-08-24T09:51:00.000-07:00

I wrote this for my friend's magazine which is geared towards Mormon men. It's written as a response to this article. It's a little rough...but I probably won't fix it.

The Edward Epidemic: Those Affected Should Seek Help

Let’s begin with a confession, shall we?  There’s nothing like starting a relationship with a clean slate. I, like countless other women, was once a die-hard Twi-hard.  That’s right, I said it.  I read each book twice, okay thrice and I was trapped in my hopeless romanticism.  I swooned, I pined, and I dreamed of the day that a man, or vampire, rather, like Edward Cullen would sweep my off my feet into a beautiful, blood lusting, sparkly eternity.

Then something fantastic happened, I woke up from that ridiculous dream that poisons the minds of everyday women to the men of the real world.  Most would say that Stephanie Meyers set the bar too high with Edward for any less fictional men to ever attain.  I, on the other hand, believe that he makes real men all the more desirable.  Let me explain.

Edward is undeniably attractive.  It’s irrefutable, he’s just written that way, but I’m convinced that no self-respecting woman, upon reviewing his qualities, would fall for such a man.  On that note, I must say that while his taste in women is poor, he was lucky to find a girl such as Bella.  She is insecure, needy, obsessive, possessive and in all honesty, boring as a brick.  Like I said, any self-respecting woman would be able to see right through his iridescent skin and striking features to his off-putting and unacceptable behavior.  

Upon first seeing Bella, Edward spent the entirety of their lunch period glowering at her from across the room.  Then came the cute-meet that was anything but cute.  Their first interaction consisted of him treating her like she killed his puppy, which he probably did, that non-human eating vamp hippie.  I digress.  After having disappeared for a few days, he returned and was nothing but pleasant and charming.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not lost to the fact that he was resisting the urge to slaughter and drain his future wife, but in the real world, these would be considered the red flags of Crazy Town.  Though I didn’t think it possible, dear Eddie’s creeper behavior escalated.  Luckily, Bella found it comforting that he crept in through her window at night to watch her sleep and let’s be honest, with a face like that, who really cares that he read the minds of innocent people so that he could, for all intents and purposes, stalk her.  And wasn’t it just darling how he disabled her truck to keep her from visiting a friend?  No.

I suppose the point I’m trying to make, gentle readers, is that you shouldn’t be intimidated by Edward Cullen.  Well, you shouldn’t be intimidated by any fictional character, because when it comes to existing in reality, they’ve got nothing on you.  I’m sure there are plenty of women out there that would defend Edward to the grave (pun intended) for being chivalrous and romantic.  Now, I’m not saying that those women are being naïve and ridiculous, but either they are or I am and I certainly am not.

Almost Fiction

2010-08-15T19:18:00.000-07:00

I lay immobile and breathe in deeply, trying to hold onto everything about you. In this moment, I am painfully aware of what comes next, but I ignore it thinking only of how, just now, you are mine and mine alone. There is no sound beyond the beating of your heart and the faint whisper of your breath. I feel the rhythm lull me into a feeling of safety and security, false as it may be. I fight the sleep that is overtaking me, knowing that if I sleep, the time will pass far too quickly. Morning is almost here; I can see the grey light entering through the blinds. I bury my head into your chest as you pull me closer and kiss my forehead.
"Just...just stay, okay? Don't go. You don't have to go."
It's a plea whispered into and muffled by your body. I feel the change as you tilt your head back slightly. I know what you're thinking before you voice it.
"You know I can't."
Yes, I know, of course I know. How could I not? It's always the same. But I have to ask, just in case. Maybe one day you'll just smile and say, "Okay, I'll stay." That day is not today. We haven't known each other long, but I already know you. Of course I know your name, your job and all those other menial things, but more than that I know you. I know the way your chest moves when you laugh and the way you smirk when you think I'm being ridiculous. I know how you like to be kissed and I can feel your deepest insecurities when we lay here, just like this. I can make your heart beat faster and temperature rise and I know what it feels like to pace my breathing to yours.
I also know that you'll leave, just like you always do.
Your weight shifts as you move to get up. I react slowly, pushing myself up and away. You look at me and I think I see some secret emotion flit across your face, but it is gone as quickly as it came. You put on your shoes and as you stand, you take my hand and pull me up. You pull me behind you like a father to a child. One last embrace and a quick kiss before you pull open the door. The morning is cool and crisp. As cold air hits me, I am made aware once again of what I've been ignoring; that there is nothing so ominous as the creeping loneliness that comes when you leave.

I put my back against the door and sink slowly to sit on the worn carpet. A sigh escapes my lips as I acknowledge the desperate nothing that is left in your absence. Am I in love with you? Certainly not, but I did love you intensely for those few precious hours that belonged to us.

What's love got to do with it?

2010-08-15T11:10:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday night a friend of mine was posed the question, " Is NCMO (non-committal make out) ever ok?" via text.

She then posed the question to the room.

I automatically said yes. I was the only one. The general consensus was no, it is not okay.

I thought about that for a while. Why did I say yes? Probably because I've done it and because I'm so used to everyone saying that it is okay. The problem with this is that I know all too well all the reasons NCMO is not a good idea and should not be done.

So, I'm changing my answer. No, NCMO is not okay and I will no longer be a participant in any sort of act.

It is often spurred by a need for emotional closeness and trust. When physical affection follows a true emotional connection and is accompanied by trust, it works to build those bonds. When the physical affection precedes the attachment, then it can eliminate any chance of a true bond forming.

Immediate and passionate physical affection is a poor counterfeit for real attachment.

In my experience, it only results feelings of betrayal, hurt, shame and an even more pronounced loneliness.

One or both parties feel used and there after neglected.

That's all.

I'll let Imogen express my thoughts from here.

"No, it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all. {I don't want to feel like this.} So, that makes it all your fault."

If wishes were fishes...

2010-08-13T06:22:00.000-07:00

I guess the thing that I don't get is that, really, she's just a girl.

And, well, I know that's all I am, too...just a girl.

So, if we're both just girls, then why does she get to love him and I don't.

What makes her so special, so lucky, so lovely?

She is lovely though...but so am I.

It is what it is, I suppose, but what if, maybe, just maybe, it wasn't. Just this once.

What if I was the exception?

Isn't that a nice thought.

You tooooohno...no

2010-08-09T17:13:00.000-07:00

I went to Walmart today to get juice.

My checker was wearing suspenders and I paid for my juice with quarters...so I was a bit distracted.

I grabbed my receipt and my bag and this is the conversation that followed.

Me: Thanks.

Checker: Yeah, enjoy. (referring to my juice..i hope)

Me: You tooo....inaudible trail off.

(Love it when I say "You too." at the wrong time.)

Anywho, 2 down and and 1 to go.

On Thursday, despite all the stress and minor meltdowns, my darling friend, Lauren, married her wonderful man, Colton.

It was a truly picture perfect wedding and I am so grateful that I got to be a part of it. I love them and wish them all the happiness in the world.

On a slightly related but not really note, for the past few months, Colton has been telling me all about his friend that would be perfect for me. When he first started telling me about Berkinbots (not his real name) I didn't think much of it because he was on his mission and still had about a year to go. Well, crazy random happenstance, Berk hurt his knee, wasn't healing well and was sent home, unable to complete his mission. He was at the wedding. I was all sorts of nervous at the prospect of meeting this young man, which was pointless, because I didn't even get to meet him. I did, however see him. Everybody did...you really couldn't miss him if you tried.

Berk was wearing a bright (and I mean BRIGHT) pink shirt.

Katrina pointed out that he had checked her out and looked like a tool. She even suggested that I date him and take him on Tool Academy.

Despite the pink shirt and tool box look, I'm not going to give up on him completely.

In fact, I'm sure he's absolutely lovely.

I just texted Lauren to have her set me up on a date with him...we'll see how that goes.

(be aware that if I ever actually date Berk, this post will be edited.)

Subject change.

So, classes start in 2 weeks. Which means that I need to start forming better living habits.

I'll be taking a Life Fitness class this semester and I am ~~dreading~~ looking forward to it. I just really need to start running so I don't die my first day of class. I will henceforth be documenting how things go with this running thing.

Today was day one of Project Productivity.

I went to bed at 1 am and thought to myself, "Eeeeh...hell, I'll just start on Tuesday."

It should probably be noted that I've been trying at this for a couple of ~~years~~ weeks now and that same sort of though keeps myself yet to be in shape.

I slept until 10 this morning and wasn't even out of the house to do anything until 1ish.

We were supposed to play Fugitive for Family Home Evening tonight and I was just going to count that as my physical activity of the day.

I guess the plan has changed to playing volleyball...well, I'm not really sure I can count that now.

We'll try again tomorrow...hopefully.

All work and no play

2010-07-28T12:28:00.000-07:00

I work at an event venue. It's a gorgeous building at which all sorts of events are held, such as wedding receptions, dances, birthday parties, business meetings, etc.

A couple of weeks ago, I went in to clean up and take down after a Quinceanera.

I'm fairly certain that somewhere (somewhere most likely being Northern Colorado or Southern California), a hippie shed a tear for the amount of recyclable materials that were lost to the dumpster and somewhere else (namely Ethiopia) a child shed a tear for the amount of food wasted.

There was also a birthday party for a child occurring in another room.

This involved mass amounts of confetti.

I now hate confetti.

Also, the cleaners we use sounds like super heroes.
Join us next time for more adventures of Clean Brite and Metal Star as they battle the deceitful Toilet Ring and Hand Smudges!

[Twitter]pated

2010-07-27T12:47:00.000-07:00

Well, it's happened, I tweet.

I couldn't help myself.

I mean, I honestly couldn't think of any reason that people wouldn't want to hear about every little thing in my life.

Welcome to the beauty of my self involvement.

Please indulge my ego by following me!

This is the Link to my Twitter account.

<3 Lauka

Dear Aunt Flo

2010-07-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

Today's post was inspired by a letter written by an Austin woman to the company, Proctor and Gamble.

The Letter can be found here and I highly recommend all my female readers read it immediately.

On that note, I dated a ~~man~~ boy a couple of years ago that held theories such as:

Pregnancy is harder on the husband
and, cramps can be no worse than getting kicked in the balls.

Luckily, I wasn't currently pregnant or menstruating when he shared these theories with me, or I very much doubt he would have ever had to worry about getting kicked in the balls let alone getting someone pregnant. (read: castration)

Really, though, what an absolutely ridiculous thing to say to a female. Unless you've ever bled for 6 days without dying, felt like your insides were devouring themselves, or had the overpowering urge to stab the unassuming person sitting next you in class whilst crying and eating a peanut butter and pickle sandwich...for a week, you have no room to assume anything about what a period feels like.

Also, pregnancy is worse for the husband? Now, I've never been pregnant, but I think I have a pretty good understanding of what it entails for the woman and I've witnessed a good amount of pregnancies. Perhaps the husband does have to make late night runs to the store because apple juice, pixie sticks and scallops wrapped in bacon are necessary immediately and maybe he witnesses bouts of screaming and crying because he made an off hand comment about how his wife's favorite actor on that show she loves so much slightly resembles a transvestite he knew in college, but just think about what's causing these cravings and rage. There is a human living inside of her that is apparently a very apt tap dancer, her hormones no longer have any semblance of order, she has to pee constantly, nothing she owns fits her, she has no way of knowing if her shoes match the rest of what she's wearing...or each other, she waddles, and all she wanted was a little bit of damn bacon and to watch her show in peace.

I guess the gist is that we're sorry for calling you those horrible names in the middle of the Wendy's, we can't remember where we learned ~~that word~~ those words, no, shopping won't help because nothing fits or looks good and it'll only make us cry more, we really don't hate your mother, but we really do hate those brown shoes you wear with your black pants, we feel no remorse for stabbing you in the hand with the fork (don't touch the triple baconator) and we'll think the transvestite comment is funny in a few years.

<3 Lauka

Remember when I was funny?

2010-07-21T00:55:00.000-07:00

I do.

Like it was yesterday...perhaps it was yesterday.

I'm still funny, I suppose; just in more of an on a whim, spur of the moment sort of way.

I don't seem to be so good at the premeditated blog post sort of funny anymore.

Perhaps it's that I don't have much fodder these days.

I will immediately, if not sooner, work on that.

Also, I believe that life would be better if I could walk on my hands.

I like the way the world looks upside down.

Mad as a Hatter

2010-07-20T01:09:00.000-07:00

I work alone, in a very large building, late at night.
This gives me a lot of time to think.
....and hear strange noises.
...and make myself nervous.
...and then tell myself I'm silly.
...and then do it all over again.

Tonight, I asked myself this question:
"Would I rather be hearing voices because I'm crazy or because there's actually someone else in the building (that shouldn't be there?)"

The worst part is, myself has yet to settle on an answer.
sigh

More of mine means less of yours

2010-07-14T11:16:00.001-07:00

I haven't filled out one of these silly little surveys in ages, so I thought it would be fun.
Can you fill this out without lying? You've been tagged, so now you need to answer all the questions HONESTLY. At the end, choose at least 8 people to be tagged. Don't forget to tag me!

I shan't be tagging anyone and I fully intend to lie on some of them.
(lying will be done on the questions, not the people that shan't be tagged...just to clarify)

1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Fruit Snack

2.Where was your profile picture taken?
London

3.Can you play Guitar Hero?
No, I am physically incapable of playing that game.
However, if I could play it, I'm sure I would be terrible and would choose not to play it.

4.Name someone who made you laugh today.
Hipstercrite

5.How late did you stay up last night and why?
Probably about 2 or 3 because I was watching Alice in Wonderland

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Usually I would say absolutely yes, but now I don't know. Maybe

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
No

8. Which of your FB friends lives closest to you?
Taylor, Sarah and Elizabeth. They live in rooms 2, 3 and 4.

9. Do you believe exes can be friends?
I don't care

10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper?
I don't feel anything towards it

[11 has been deleted by me]

12. Who took your profile picture?
Shia Labouf

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Miley Cyrus

14. Was yesterday better than today?
There's no point in going back to yesterday, because I wasn't the same person then.
(if you can tell me what this is quoting I will adore you)

15. Can you live a day without TV?
No, TV is like oxygen, all you need is TV...oh no wait, that's love.
heh

16. Are you upset about anything?
Certainly not

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
I don't know anything about that

18. Are you a bad influence?
Nope, I'm darn near perfect

19. Night out or night in?
Simultaniously

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
Clothing

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
My Grandpa

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
"Yeah its pretty sweet"

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
Meh

24. Do you hate anyone?
nah

25. If we were to look in your facebook inbox, what would we find?
Messages, I imagine

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Psh, I don't have to take a test to tell you I do drugs.
(once again, name that quote)

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Yes, but I'm sure it was insincere

28. What song is stuck in your head?
There isn't one

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be?
Batman

30.Wanna have grandkids before you’re 50?
Only if my children are over 20 and married by the time I'm 50

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow?
Laundry

32. Do you think too much or too little?
Yes

33. Do you smile a lot?
Yes. :D

That wasn't as fun as I was hoping..
sigh

My Lament

2010-07-12T10:02:00.000-07:00

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

A while back, I put this quote in one of my posts. Then, I came to the stark realization that I am not one of the people described in the quote. I think I want to be. Though, I'm not sure I can be, I'm certainly going to try. I used to be what I thought was an extrovert. I had a ton of friends and always wanted to be with all of them. I was also quite the flake. I would make and break plans like it was going out of style. I don't know when it happened, but I'm now more of an introvert. I'd often rather spend time with a few close friends or by myself and I get uneasy in large groups of people. I'll be the first to admit that I can still be a flake sometimes, but for completely different reasons.

A couple of weeks ago, my counselor explained to me what the difference between extrovert and introvert was. (I couldn't hide my disappointment when it differed greatly from what I learned from the Berenstain Bears.) With this new understanding of those terms, I now know that I wasn't a true extrovert, because an extrovert is someone who has a lot of friends but on a very superficial level. I did have a lot of friends, but I was very close with all of them. They always talked to me, trusted me and confided in me. It wasn't necessarily mutual, but that's a different post for a different day. I now have a few friends, but I feel like most of them are on a fairly superficial level. I never know what's going on in their lives, we don't really talk about anything too deep, and I find myself spending less and less time with them.

I can't help but wonder what about me has changed to bring about this dramatic change in the friendships I have.
Have I lost something?
Is it something that I can fix?
Do I even need to fix it?

Frosting Fiasco?

2010-07-12T03:08:00.000-07:00

Today, after ward prayer and watching the Lost Skeleton of Cadavra with friends, I came home and made a cake.
Simply because I wanted a cake.
I used my Betty Crocker Gluten Free cake mix (I've had better) and decided that Emily was right, there's no excuse for not making your own frosting. So, I googled simple frosting recipe and went for it.
After putting in all the ingredients and mixing it thoroughly, it looked a little stiff but I didn't think much of it...until I the cake was ready to be frosted. I tasted my 'frosting' and realized that I had accidentally made fudge.
It was the best tasting cooking fail I've ever made. It didn't spread very well on the cake, but boy does it taste good.
My cake remains unfrosted. I'll try again tomorrow.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the consistency (or lack there of) with which I write this blog and what I should be writing about.
I would very much like to know what you think I should write about. If you read my blog, I appreciate you and would absolutely appreciate your input. Unfortunately, my layout seems to not allow commenting, so until I get that figured out, please leave me a comment or a message on my facebook page.

Mr. T-andalle

2010-07-07T12:53:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I sat with my dear friend, Emily and we talked for about 5 hours.
We talked about how awkward high school dances were, about our friends, about losing love, and finding love and about movies.
One of my favorite things that we talked about was our strange idiosyncrasies and quirks and how we are looking forward to men that can't only handle them but might be able to understand them and think they're endearing.
So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to write a letter to my future companion.

My Dearest Mr. T-andalle,
I would like to start by telling you that I'm lovely. I really am. I will cook, iron your Sunday shirts, keep our home beautiful, laugh at your jokes, make you laugh, and raise our children the best that I can.
I'm worth it, I promise.
Now, keeping that in mind, I do have a few confessions. I hope you don't mind if I just jump right in and share them.
Deep Breath
I am slowly drinking my way to diabetes with Mango Kool-aide. I love Cheetos dipped in cream cheese. I have read every book in the Twilight series at least once. (And I'm not ashamed of it.) I love Nsync, the Backstreet Boys, 98 Degrees and basically every other teeny bopper band that came out in the 90s. I wear my swimsuit when I run out of clean underwear. I buy new underwear to give me more days before I have to do laundry.
I'm worth it, I promise.
Deep Breath.
I sing in the shower. I sing in public. I dance whenever I can. I love the movie Charlie. I occasionally drool, snore, or talk in my sleep. I say inappropriate things at the wrong times. I laugh at my own jokes. I talk to my car...and my computer and my desk and my phone and myself. I day dream a lot. I'm terrified of moths. I get distracted easily. I can't sit still for too long. I fidget often. Sometimes I talk louder than I realize, especially when I get excited about something. Sometimes, I take way too long to get ready. I am consistently late.
I'm worth it, I promise.
{Reread the first paragraph for reassurance.}

Hugs and Kisses
Mrs. T-andalle

Petr Piper Czech Hitch Hiker

2010-06-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

Mr. and Mrs. Brown were married on Friday.
Their house was finished on Saturday.
They moved all of their stuff in (which isn't really much at this point) on Sunday.
They left for their Colorado reception on Monday.
So, I am house sitting a very large, very empty house.
Luckily enough, I found and unsecured internet connection.
[YES!]
I realized my blogs have been scarce lately, so I figured I'd tell you a little story.

Last Sunday, I was driving home from Colorado.
It started like any other day really. I woke up, ate brunch with the Gees, packed up, jumped in my car, pointed to the sun and drove away.
I realized as I drove, that I forgot to grab food for the road and that I had to pee.
There I was, somewhere in Wyoming, in complete failure to thrive mode.
(Failure to Thrive: tired, hungry, unshowered, full bladder)
I made a quick decision to stop in Centennial for a bathroom break and to grab some food. After Garmen got me all sorts of turned around, I found my way into the town. At this point, I was pretty frustrated for the following reasons:

I had 6 more hours in the car by myself.
All gas stations in Centennial are also bate and tackle shops or just podunk little places. I just wanted a real gas station with which to support my Cheddar and Sour Cream Ruffles and French Onion Dip habit. (don't knock it 'til you try it.)
The gas station I stopped at didn't have a working bathroom.

So, thoroughly ticked off, I hopped back in my car and headed on my merry way. As I took the exit back to the highway, I saw a hitch hiker. I instinctively shook my head and drove on, knowing full well that women are not to pick up hitch hikers alone. Then I thought, "Well, why the hell not?" I flipped around at the next exit and hoped that he would still be there. He looked young and very much like someone I would be friends with. As I drove past him the second time I slowed my car to a stop and unlocked the passenger door. There was not even a trace of nerves as he walked toward my car.

Petr:(in a heavy accent) Where are you going?
Me: Utah. Where do you need to go?
Petr: Yellow Stone.

He threw his bags in the back and off we went.
Now, I know what you're thinking. I've already heard it.
He didn't have an axe, nor did he kill me and steal my car. In fact, he was lovely. He's from the Czech Republic and he's just traveling. Not for any real purpose other than to get away. The truth is, I envy him. I think daily about getting in my car and driving anywhere, just leaving everything behind and adventuring. He's been everywhere. He flew into South America 2 1/2 years ago and has just been working his way North. He needed to be in Canada in a little over a week.
It was lovely to have someone with me, someone to talk to.
We talked about everything; his life before his "America Adventure," my schooling, my plans, my future, his plans, his future, beliefs, and religion. I told him about wanting to go to Africa and to just travel and see everything. He encouraged me to go now, while I'm young and have everything going for me.
I hated dropping him off in Rock Springs knowing that he might not be picked up, that he might have to sleep outside, that I might never see him again.
We exchanged information and fully intend on keeping in touch.
He's a good man.
As we shook hands he said, "Maybe we'll meet again...in Africa."

Maybe it was crazy and dangerous.
Of course it could have ended badly.
But crazies are crazies and bad things happen all the time, you can't avoid everyone and everything just because it might end badly.
This turned out to be a wonderful and inspiring adventure in which I made a wonderful new friend.
I wouldn't take it back, not ever.

[Katrina is Married]

2010-06-27T14:41:00.000-07:00

I honestly can't count the number of times that phrase was uttered this past weekend.

On Friday, June 25th, 2010, my darling friend, Katrina B., was married to Darrell B.
I had the honor of being a bridesmaid and I couldn't be happier or more grateful that I got to share in their wedding day.
My favorite part of the day was watching Darrell's face absolutely light up as Katrina walked down the isle. It was a look of pure joy like nothing I've ever seen before.
He cried. She cried.
Everyone cried.
It was just so beautifully right.
Congratulations Darrell and Katrina B.
I love you both so much and wish you the best in life and love!

The World is a Vampire

2010-06-23T12:42:00.000-07:00

Look at that girl.
Would you ever guess that she loves:

Screamo and Metal
Black nail polish
Dark cerebral films
Motorcycles
Men on motorcycles

and is fascinated by:

Blood
Serial Killers
Mental illness
Spiders
Death

?

Probably not.

That's a part of me that most people would never guess existed because the girl in that picture is the one everyone sees.
In all honesty, it's probably for the best.
Because people that like those things are weird, right?
I believe that people are inherently good. I also believe that everyone has a dark side.
Mine got to come out and play this past weekend and man did she look good.

Letter to a fool

2010-06-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Chris,

Listen, I get it, really I do. You're kind of a big deal, the bees knees, God's gift to women. Don't think for a second that I didn't notice. I saw it the second you walked in the door. You're tall, dark, handsome and a great dancer...and you know it, don't you. Yeah, you strut around with your harem of girls in tow. They don't see it, and neither did I at first. But I find myself thoroughly disillusioned. I see the insincerity dripping from your sweet smile, feel the lie in your hand on the small of my back and if we're speaking frankly, I think you are a fool. I refuse to drape myself over you and vie for your attention. I have better things to do. Here's the thing, I'm cute, funny and a pretty dang good follow. so if you want to flash that smile, wrap your arms around me and lie to me softly about being too tired and wanting to go home when I ask you to dance, then I shan't waste my time on the likes of you. I will look you straight in the eyes as you stay for another hour and a half and dance with other girls and I'll dance you right out of my head with other boys that are just as good as you. So, hot stuff, it's been real and we had some great dances, but please understand that when I never think about you again, it's not me, it's you.

In all sincerity,
Disenchanted

Sparkly

2010-06-10T17:55:00.000-07:00

I had a dream last night that I got engaged.
The ring was [stunning.]
I don't remember who I was engaged to, but I didn't really want to marry him.
The worst part was that I had to give the ring back.

sigh

Finding Wobie Woo

2010-06-09T14:08:00.000-07:00

Wobie Woo is fearless. She is the kind of little girl that dances and sings whenever she feels like it, runs up and down the block meeting and talking to everyone, hates wearing dresses or clothes that match...or clothes at all, can make everybody laugh, and is full of joy and energy. She doesn't give a second thought to how her hair looks or if she looks to chubby in this or that. She just is who she is and that's that. I'm not sure when she got lost nor do I know why she went away. Maybe it was because she was scared, or got hurt by a boy, or maybe that's just a part of growing up. What I do know is that I've missed her terribly.

[Me without her] is self conscious, shy, and insecure. [Me without her] spends way too much time and effort on hair, make-up, and other such superficial things. [Me without her] wastes way too much emotion on what others think and way too much energy on over analyzing what they say. [Me without her] doesn't like me much at all.

I found her yesterday in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a braid. I found her in a care free smile and thirst for adventure.
And now the confusion is gone. Now, I know who I am and what I want from life and much like that little girl, I won't be afraid to go after it.

Dear Wobie Woo,
I'm glad I found you. I pinky promise I won't lose you again.
Love,
Laura

A Commentary on Flirting

2010-06-07T12:36:00.000-07:00

Flirting is the most awkward and absurd thing to observe.

Last Friday night, my apartment complex had an outdoor movie night.
There was Pizza, soda, The Sandlot on a big screen and hordes of hormonal young adults.
I wanted to sit in my apartment by myself and watch ghost hunters, but I figured I should at least attempt being social, so I wandered my way down to the courtyard. I made a pretty fair attempt at small talk--because that's what one is supposed to do at stuff like that-- but eventually resigned myself to contently observing those around me.
I did sit with some darling girls from my ward and we chatted and laughed and what not, but I got the most enjoyment from watching the people around me flirt with each other.
It was like I was watching something that wasn't meant to be watched, a private sort of interaction that wasn't private at all.

Sitting near my friends and I on the lawn was a group of guys. For the beginning they kept to themselves, just laying and watching the movie. I didn't notice when a few girls sat near them. There was a pretty classically cute girl and her two less cute friends.
I watched as they joked and laughed, the guys pretty clearly more interested in the cute friend. I cringed as Brunette Less Cute Friend continuously interjected in conversations, vying for attention, while Blonde Less Cute Friend remained fairly quiet, occasionally saying something witty.
I wanted desperately to pull BLCF aside and explain to her how uncomfortable it was just watching her try so hard.

As I watched, I couldn't help but think two things.
The first was that I have been BLCF. This was quite the mortifying realization. Had someone watched me be slightly obnoxious and awkward in an attempt to win some boy's affection?
shudder

The second thought was about what Calvin or Jake of Confessions from a Mormon Bachelor Pad would have to say if they had witnessed or been a part of the situation I was observing.
giggle

I've witnessed other situations like this. What bothers me most is how the flirting occurs. It's like watching the little girl on the playground hit the little boy because she thinks he's cute.
The flirting consists of teasing and degrading, followed by giggling.
And its not even witty.
Whatever happened to complimenting and being nice?
People honestly get uncomfortable when they are told that they have a nice smile or pretty eyes.

I vowed that from that day forward I would never again take part in the silliness that I had witnessed for the following reasons:
1. I'm most funny when I'm not trying to entertain anyone other than myself.
2. If a man is not interested in me, obnoxiously vying for his attention will not make him so.
3. I'm a catch. Men should be vying for my attention.
4. The only person I want blogging about how awkward I am is me.

So, for now, I am content just sitting back and watching the interactions of those who also exist in this crazy, silly Mormon bubble.

Carry on with your Mormon mating rituals and thank you for all the entertainment.

Endearingly Awkward

2010-05-25T09:49:00.000-07:00

I once asked a friend, "On a scale from 1-10 how socially awkward am I?"
[7]

I am so very aware of how awkward I can be.

I am terrible at small talk.
I maintain eye contact for too long.
I have little to no filter between brain and mouth.
I laugh too loudly. It doesn't matter if something is really funny or even just a little funny, my laugh is the same.
I make dumb jokes.
I laugh at my dumb jokes.
I get nervous and shy in silly situations.
I say the wrong things at the wrong times.
I come on too strong.
My words don't come out the way I mean them.
I am politically incorrect.
I am not cool.

For the past 20 years I have been able to get away with it.
People think I'm endearing and funny.
I think I've been able to do so because I make other somewhat endearingly socially awkward friends.
Here's the thing about Utah: People don't appreciate awkward quite enough.
They want "cool."
More to the point, they want people who are like them.
I'm quirky, sarcastic, outrageous and a little hard to handle sometimes.
I can usually code switch pretty well, but sometimes the crazy slips a little and I make people uncomfortable.
I don't mind.
In fact I love it.
The people that shy away from me are probably boring anyways.
(This does not detract from the fact that they are children of our Heavenly Father and are precious and have souls of great worth.)

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

You Talk Pretty

2010-05-23T15:54:00.000-07:00

See Joel.
See Joel jump.
Jump, Joel, Jump.

I met Joel in April at General Conference when I went with Bryce. He was visiting from Canada. He is a genuinely awesome guy! Molly and I had no idea when we met Joel, who we so endearingly nicknamed The Irritated One, how awesome he is. I think sometimes we unintentionally embarrass him, or just make him a little uncomfortable. Because Joel speaks in the most beautiful way. So we just tell him to talk. Not to us or with us, just at us so we can listen. It's like listening to a song. When we tell him this, he replies, "I don't have an accent!" (in his oh so pretty accent)

We knew he had an accent, but when he asked how the way he said things was different from the way we said them, we just couldn't explain it! Our response to that question usually sounded something like this, "I don't know how its different, it just is! Please keep talking."

Today in church, an Elder from Canada was speaking. I thought nothing of it until I heard him speak. I was pretty captivated by what he was saying and then I realized it was the accent! Joel's accent.
I figured out how it's different! (as soon as I figured it out, I thought, "I need to call Joel!")

So, I did.
I started off by asking him to tell me about his day and church and what not, just to keep him talking. (because I like listening to him talk) Then, I explained to him the answer to his question.
What is the difference between how he says things and how we do?

Here it is.
In America, we hate speech impediments. So, when we are being taught to speak, we are taught to enunciate carefully. Our consonants become hard and we tend to speak very sharply and clearly in order to be understood.
When Joel speaks, letters become softer. The words seem rounder and to flow more smoothly. Its so much more pleasant and gentle when entering my cerebellum.

It's like comparing German and French.

He tells me I'm silly and that this is ridiculous.
I don't care. As long he tells it to me in that pretty way of his.

A Banquet for Traitors

2010-05-04T23:50:00.000-07:00

Again, I wake to you... Stand up, these feet are so far from clean.
I'm undeserving of the strength in your arms used to save me.
But years passed when I saw Eve next to me,
She's wrapped in low-cut, dripping sensuality.
I remember the host, but it's been so long since we spoke.
He said, "My son, you can hold perfection in your arms if you wish."
But I sit at a banquet for traitors
Placed here between a thief and a liar.
"Just run and hold perfection in your arms as I slip..."
But I'll make you the god of a liar
Cause I've been both a saint and a viper.
I'll make you the god of a liar.
I am a lie, just like these traitors that cry for forgiving replies
But keep their grips held tight.
Though my eye's on Eve you're ready to bleed as if I'm royalty
But I am no king. I am no king.
His life spilled like a tide so divine.
It was a blood soaked feast that never ceased as his veins dripped empty.
With such violent grace, the waves hit my face
And in painful clarity I turned fearfully...
"What makes you think you can deserve me?
WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN DESERVE ME?"
My host fell to His knees as paling lips pushed His plea...
"My son, you can hold perfection in your arms if you wish."
But I sit at a banquet for traitors, placed here between a thief and a liar.
"Just run and hold perfection in your arms as I slip..."
But I'll make you the god of a liar
Cause I've been both a saint and a viper.
By grace uneven, at the banquet portrayed, through death, this life is saved.
But I am no king! I am no...
"Open your eyes, child, your sea is changing"

(Banquet for Traitors - Oh, Sleeper)

[whoa]

Friends Forever Foto Fun

2010-05-03T18:47:00.001-07:00

Before Kat left for the Summer, she asked me to take some photos for resumes and what not.

We may or may not have stayed on task....
Here are some of my favorites from the day!

And to the Girls...

2010-05-03T09:20:00.000-07:00

I love Sundays!
Yesterday was an especially beautiful one.
Church. Nap. Games. Fireside. Bishop's house. Ward Prayer. Movie.
Just awesome!

Though there's something that has been on my mind a lot lately and that seemed to be yesterday's theme. There always seems to be an unintentional theme in Fast and Testimonies, and that theme carried through out the day.
It was the worth of souls.
I truly hope that the women of the church, as well as the world, now their eternal worth and potential!
Our lesson in RS was on the importance of women and of visiting teaching. Kaylie spoke about how women are not like men and should not strive to be and it brought to mind something that President Ezra Taft Benson said on the matter.

"You were not created to be the same as men. Your natural attributes, affections, and personalities are entirely different from these of a man. They consist of faithfulness, benevolence, kindness, and charity. They also balance the more aggressive and competitive nature of man. The business world is competitive and sometimes ruthless. We do not doubt that women have both the brain power and the skills to compete with men. But by competing they must of necessity, become aggressive and competitive. Thus their godly attributes are diminished and they acquire a quality of sameness with man. The conventional wisdom of the day would have you be equal with men. We say, we would not have you descend to that level."

Wow!
How important is it that we know our value? Would it change the way we live our lives?
So important and absolutely!
We are literal daughters of our Heavenly Father and we have been bestowed gifts that can change the world. There is no job more important than the nurturing of a family. Second to that is the nurturing of our fellow Sons and Daughters of God!
We have been given these gifts and asked to do great things with them, and if we understand that and where they come from, I have no doubt that we can move mountains!

I was talking to some friends as we were driving the other day and we noticed that there is a great abundance of liposuction, plastic surgery, and diet billboards in Utah county.
What struck me about this is that the majority of the women in this area are members of the church and the billboards are there because these women are attracted to things of this nature.
What this says to me is that perhaps these women do not fully understand their eternal worth and the beauty of the image in which they were created.
That's certainly not to say that I don't have my insecurities. Of course I do! I'm also very aware of from where those insecurities come. Satan knows our weaknesses and manipulates them to hurt us. If we say we're ugly, he will always agree.
I think of it this way, if I had a friend that always put me down or agreed when I put myself down, it would be a very short lived friendship. Where as, if I had a friend that complimented me and told me I was beautiful when I was feeling insecure, this is someone I would want to keep in my life.
[Satan is the 'friend' that puts you down. Jesus Christ is the friend that tells you you're beautiful.]
So, Dear Sister, please know that you are beautiful and never forget that you have eternal potential and worth!

And to the girls,
You're worth more than the cheap words
You see your body as beauty, but your pulse is worth more

(Vices like Vipers-Oh, Sleeper)

Is she allergic to blue?

2010-04-26T13:55:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I had the awesome opportunity to head up to Logan to see some friends!

I absolutely [love] the people I spent the weekend with.
Let me introduce them
Molly is one of the cutest girls ever! We were both born in Logan and grew up in Fort Collins. We moved out to Utah around the same time and I'm so glad! I've really gotten to know Molly over the past couple of years. She has crazy curly hair and is super easy to talk to!
Bryce is pretty much the kindest person in the whole world. He is always willing to help in any way he can. He served in my singles ward in Fort Collins last year and got off his mission around the same time I moved to Utah. He has an amazing singing voice and he definitely knows how to bust a move!
Seth is a super stud! I met him a few weeks ago at General Conference. He's also Bryce's roommate. He is really tall but way down to earth! I always feel comfortable talking to him.

Oh man, this kid! I just met Matty this weekend. He's another on of Bryce's roomates and his best friend. He makes me laugh so hard! I can't even begin to tell you how funny he is! He showed us videos that he made in the past few years and I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. He's always a lot of fun!
These girls are so dang fun! Celeste and Michelle are Bryce, Matt and Seth's next door neighbors. Molly and I showed up at their apartment at 12 am and they didn't even think twice about letting us stay with them! It was like we had known each other forever! Not only are they super sweet, they are SO funny.

Kylee is Molly's cousin. She lives in Idaho and came down to Logan to see us on Saturday night. I absolutely adore this girl and I'm so glad she got to come play with us! We had an absolute blast! I feel like I can talk to her about anything. She is also really funny!

So those are the amazing friends with whom I got to spend the weekend!
We cooked, we danced, we sang, we played, we laughed and we had a [great] time!

Quote mania:
While playing catch phrase... Molly: Something they do in Africa sometimes...
Bryce: STARVE!

Kylee: I just laughed so hard I threw up in my mouth!
Matt: FEED MY CHILD!
Matt: Is she allergic to blue? I hope not...

Vivid colors, rough brush strokes, ordinary subjects.

2010-04-11T11:53:00.000-07:00

I think most Impressionist paintings are dull and ugly!

there, I said it.

"Who's car is this?"

2010-04-10T20:33:00.000-07:00

I would just like to share with you a conversation that I had with a little boy today. To preface: I was in Logan, just leaving my uncle's apartment to come home. I got out to my car and there was a little boy (no more than 10 years old) riding his bike around the parking lot, looking like he was casing my car.

The Conversation:
Boy: Who's car is this?
Me: It's mine.
Boy: Oh....I thought that other car was yours. It doesn't look like your car.
Me: Nope, that's not mine, it's my mom's. This one is mine.
(opens trunk)
Boy: What's that green thing?
Me: Its a pull cord so that if someone got stuck in the trunk, they could pull this and it would open and they could escape.
Boy: Oh! We don't have that in our car. You can see out the trunk because it's a truck! But if you had that car (points to random white car) you shouldn't put someone in the trunk because they couldn't breath.
Me: That's true. That wouldn't be safe, huh?
Boy: Yeah...but we could put a dead person that we know in it. That would be fine."
Me: uh....yeah. I guess that would be ok...

After a long winter...

2010-04-08T13:03:00.001-07:00

It's finally warm enough to sit on my deck in a dress and write my paper.

And that is exactly what I'm doing!

Soundtrack: Lord of the Rings
[to make it epic]

Is that a person??

2010-04-07T18:22:00.000-07:00

So this is how it happened....

A very sleepy Laura is dropping off Laura-Denise in at her apartment around midnight.
They pull up in front, facing a field-firepit-picnic area.
Laura-Denise: "Is that a person?"
L. McNeil: looking in the direction indicated "No...no, it can't be."
Laura-Denise: "Well go see..."
L. McNeil: "No. It's probably just a rock or a stump or something..."
Laura-Denise: "I'm not getting out."
L. McNeil: "If it is a person they're dead or sleeping."
Laura-Denise: "It's probably a trick!"
.:Laura moves car to shine lights on possible dead.... they sit and stare at it for a few minutes:.
Laura-Denise: "Do you have crow bar? Go see what it is."
L. McNeil: "What?? No."
.:Laura-Denise grabs her purse like a weapon, gets out of car, and approaches possible dead person slowly:.

Meet our possible dead person

[He's a lot scarier at night...]

Catch Up Soup

2010-04-05T18:55:00.000-07:00

Mile High Blues

Amazing people
[Tons] of dancing
Very little sleep
Music
Learning
Loving
Bluesing
3 days went way to fast
kind of felt like a [blur]
It was easily one of the best weekends of my life

Quotes Madness:
"Are you mesmerized by my chair dancing?"
"That cat is following James down the dark alley....Kat! Don't follow James down the dark alley!!"

General Conference
Old friends
New friend
Elder Holland
The Incredibles
Hidden House
<3>So on Saturday morning, I got a call from my dear friend Bryce (Elder) Smalley. He told me that he might have an extra ticket to the afternoon session of General Conference. He called me back at 12ish and told me that he had the extra ticket just for me! So I got ready real fast and drove real fast and made it just in time! What a blessing it was to be in the conference center to hear revelation from the Lord! I was so overwhelmed! I was in the same room as some of the most valiant spirits of this dispensation! (and not just the general authorities)
It was such an amazing day. Spending time with good friends and sharing in the joy of the gospel! What could be better??

[[This man] is absolutely amazing]

Quote Madness:
"We hugged and the Lord saw that it was good..."
"Not that you should be serving tea anyways!!"
"Sooo...it's the Tall One, the Irritated One, the Brown One, the One that's engaged to the Other One, and Bryce!"

Faith and Doubt

2010-03-24T18:04:00.001-07:00

So there's this song.

The first time I heard it, it spoke to my heart.

I listened to it over and over and over again.

Faith and Doubt

I read that Jesus walked the stormy sea and he pulled Peter up
Said, Man you gotta believe me
And he shared with his disciples
Said, Heres how to be free
If you asked me I'd say most days
I totally agree
But right now I can't pray, I don't feel like talking to God
I need somebody out there with a little skin on them

Hmm Mmm-mm-mmm

When I read that story I heard thunder everywhere
I could hear that boat crashing on the waves
The bow is in the air
And I have respect for Peter who had faith enough to dare
Step out onto the water
While all the others stared
And when hell is on your back,
Sometimes you think you got strength and you say,
Hey Lord, save me, I'm drownin' out here!

But I'm caught somewhere between Faith and Doubt
And I feel like I'm never going to find my way back outta here.

Last night I felt free just like I was a kid
So I layed in the grass and thought of all the things I did
When I didn't know of pressure it was easy to forgive
You didn't have to be perfect
Not in my neighborhood
I don't know what year things became so unclear, but I'm still here.
But I'm caught somewhere between Faith and Doubt
And I feel like I'm never going to find my way back outta here.

{Thank you, Aaron Espe, for saying what my heart can't say sometimes and understanding humanity so beautifully}

The Life

2010-03-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

I realized that I haven't updated recently, but a lot has been on my mind. Therefore, this will be a jumble of thoughts and experiences that I've had since my last post.

We will begin with my [Provo Word of the Day](please imagine this being said in Oprah's voice) And the word of the day is....
For-ril-usual said in question form, a sign of disbelief or skepticism. Said in all other states as, "For real?"

Next, I would like to regretfully inform you that Rancho Market (the hispanic food store on State) does [not] carry Salsa. This caused a lot of confusion when Katherine and I walked ourselves over there, fully expecting to purchase some awesome salsa. So if you are in need of a salsa fix, just head yourself on over to Macey's or plan on making it yourself. Though, if you're in need of Rague, Rancho Market is the place for you, because they do carry that. Please tell me that you're also struck by the utter ridiculousness of this.

Now for something completely different.
I had the wonderful pleasure of seeing my darling friends Jon and Mary this past weekend! They were here for the wedding of Jon's best friend. Mary stayed with me and it was SO good to have her here. I adore her and we always have a blast together. On Monday morning, I attempted gluten free pancakes for them. I thought they tasted just fine, but Jon let me know that they were more like panwafers. Oh well, just another notch on the gluten free cooking adventure belt!

On that note,
Am I a domestic goddess?
Why, yes. Yes I am.
A few weeks ago, for dinner group I made gluten free onion rings. Let me repeat that for you. I [made] gluten free onion rings! Unfortunately, only a select few people showed up to dinner group to enjoy the glorious deliciousness.

This past week for dinner group I made Laura-made gluten free macaroni and cheese. Now I'm not talking out of a box; lets not be silly now. I mean real cheesy awesomeness.
My next cooking adventure will be Oreos!

So anywho, I think that's all I've got for you today.
Wait! Before I go, can I just tell you....can I just TELL you how excited I am??
Because 7 days from now, I will be on my way to Denver with some of my very favorite dancers to attend MILE HIGH BLUES!
For those of you who don't know what that means, I'll explain.
It is a blues dancing exchange, where dancers from all over the country gather to attend workshops and just dance all weekend! It is bound to be entirely too epic to handle.
and I. Can't. WAIT.

Stop it.

2010-03-11T13:45:00.000-08:00

Here I sit, on the 3rd floor of the UVU library. The 3rd floor is my favorite, because floors 3 through 5 are "the quiet" floors and there is light traffic because there are no classrooms. It is the perfect study environment for the easily distracted.

But to my dismay here comes Loud Library Talker.

He sits at a table to my right with Provo Carbon Copy girl and tells her all about his oh so interesting day. (Insert sarcastic smirk here) Listen, LLT, I get it. You're super awesome and have a lot of interesting things to tell PCC girl. And I'm sure she's just enthralled by your epic story telling of that time you beat Halo 27 on expert. Unfortunately, no one else cares. So, unless you can fully explain to me the difference between a totalitarian regime and an authoritarian regime to help me with my impending exam, just stop it. You can't honestly tell me you didn't notice the glares coming from all the other quiet studiers in here. Oh you can? Not only can you tell me, but you'll yell it? Super...

Can I Just Say...can I just say how much I love you?

2010-03-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

Count the stars in the sky.

Measure the waters of the ocean with a teaspoon.
Number the grains of sand on the sea shore.

Impossible you say?
Yes, and it is just as impossible to say how much I love you.

[8 years]
Katherine Renee Gee, thanks so much for being my best friend!

My love for you is:
Higher than the Heavens
Deeper than Hades and
Longer than the Earth

It has no limits, no bounds.
[Everything must have an ending, except my love for you.]

I wish I knew now what I knew when I was 13...

2010-03-02T13:28:00.000-08:00

I would just like to start by saying that I was a relationship genius(!) between the ages of 13 and 15. I was like the Dr. Phil of love. I gave the best advice and always had the right answers.
Well, then I started dating.
And everything I knew about relationships and love went out the window.
Now, I'm a complete and utter fool.

There is something in particular that has had be thoroughly confused for a little while now, Maybe you can help me out.

Almost every woman I have known that knows anything about Pride and Prejudice has had a crush on Mr. Darcy. Yet, darling Mr. Bingley gets little to no attention.
But why??

VS

Darcy is completely contrary to what we always say we want.
What do we [say] we want?
A man who is open and honest. One who knows what he wants (ideally us) and tells us exactly that. A man who tells us we're beautiful and loved.
What happens when we meet such a Mr. Bingley?
We freak out. We say that he's creepy or too eager. We get annoyed with him.

What do we [say] we don't want?
A man who is enigmatic. Who doesn't know whether or not he wants us and if he does know, he just doesn't tell us. A man who is critical of us.
What happens when we meet one of these Mr. Darcys?
We're intrigued. We want to know more, we pine after him and try (usually to no avail) to get him to fall in love with us.

Honestly, Ladies, what kind of a sick twisted game is this?
Why do we do this to ourselves? And why do we do this to the lovely Mr. Bingleys of the world?

If you know the answer please share. I am at a
total loss with this one.
If you don't know the answer, might I suggest we change our ways?

And the greatest of all these is....

2010-03-01T13:25:00.000-08:00

"Love is the guiding light that illuminates the disciple's path and fills our daily walk with [life], meaning, and wonder."

What an awesome quote!
Love is the difference between existing on the most basic level and truly [living.]
"...every other commandment hangs upon the principle of love."

So live life with a little more love today! Love for others, Heavenly Father,yourself and for life!

P.S. I love you.

[The object has no value if it lacks rythmic oscelation.]

2010-02-26T14:58:00.000-08:00

In other words... It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing!

Last month I fell in love.
Can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence kind of love.
with....

[Dancing]

My first night in Provo, Katherine took Jon and I blues dancing.
I discovered two things that night. First, I was a terrible(!) follow. Second, I wanted nothing more than to devote my time to becoming better. And so began my love affair with movement.

Swing, Blues, Hip Hop, Jazz, Salsa...you name it, I'll try it!

I can no longer imagine a week without dancing. I used to be a person that danced occasionally, but now I think it's pretty safe to say that I am a dancer. My fellow dancers understand the need, the drive, the [addiction.] If you don't understand, I'm not sure there's an adequate way to explain it.
Don't worry, I'm no longer a terrible follow. In fact, I'd say I'm pretty decent and I'm improving every day. I owe this to my beautifully patient friends that have taken the time to work with me and to pretty much every lead I've ever danced with. I learn something new every time I dance.

Not only am I in love with dance itself, but I'm in love with the culture. It seems that the moment I became a dancer, I gained an entirely new set of friends; a group of people that love me simply for loving the same thing they do.

[[Blues] Where we stop thinking, start feeling and live through momentum] -Katherine Gee

A New Beginning

2009-12-28T14:52:00.000-08:00

This is my 2nd attempt at blogging. (Some of you might remember what a terrible fail my 1st attempt was!) I was, however, told that I needed to blog my experiences of my new adventure in Utah. So here goes nothing.
I arrived in Utah on Thursday, December 17th. It was a long journey getting here and I'm not just referring to the drive. I applied and was accepted to Utah Valley University at the end of October. Since then, there's been all the stress of packing, finishing off my last month and a half at work, as well as some unexpected stressers that popped up. Fortunately, with those trials came some unbelievable blessings. I was in a car accident on November 21st, in which I rear-ended someone. Luckily, there was very little damage, so I nor my insurance company had to pay for any repairs. A couple weeks later, a snow storm caused me to slide into median, bending my wheel. A friend of my mom's was kind enough to pay for the repairs necessary. During all of this, my computer was giving up on life and my wonderful mother helped me pay for a new one.
During my last few weeks there I made some amazing friends and became closer to friends that I had been inadvertently neglecting. While they made it harder to leave, I also don't know that I would have made it through those last few weeks without them. We created some really great memories together and they gave me so much love and support, which was invaluable in my volatile emotional state. I can't believe how much I miss them already. BaM (Breakfast and a Movie) on Sundays were the best and I'm hoping to set in motion BaM:Provo style as soon as possible.
While I'm so grateful to and for all of these people, there is someone in particular that I absolutely wouldn't have gotten here without. He was always there to listen to me and offer support when I was an absolute mess. He helped me pack my life into my car, then drove me and that car all the way out here. He calmed and encouraged me when I thought I couldn't do this, and was & always is unbelievably patient with me. For all of this I am eternally grateful to Jonathan Owen!
Now to recap the past week-ish. My first couple of days here, I spent lots of time with my other half, Katherine and met 2 of my new roommates. Unfortunately, everyone left on Saturday to spend the holidays at home. So on Sunday, I ventured to church alone. I was fortunate enough to meet 2 of the girls that live across the hall from me, Jenna and Jenna, both of whom are absolutely darling! On Sunday night I was able to go down to Hyrum for my nephew's 5th birthday! It was really exciting for me to be able to be there. On Monday night, I spent some time hanging out with Jenna and Jenna and watching Sing Off. On Tuesday, Lauren and I got lunch. She also showed me where she's living now and the reception center that her boyfriend's family owns. It was so so good to catch up with her! I've missed her tons. I met my roommates best friend, Nicki, on Wednesday. She was sweet enough to invite me to go with her to pick up her dad from the airport and go see the lights on Temple Square. We didn't make it to Temple Square, but we got dinner and it was just great to get out of the apartment!
Christmas festivities commenced on Thursday. I headed up to West Valley in the early afternoon to spend Christmas with my aunt, Erin, and her family. Around 5, we were all piling into the car to head to dinner at Matt's (Erin's husband) parent's house. I looked out the car window and standing there was my mom. It was such an amazing surprise! (For those who don't know, she is now living in New Mexico and as far as I knew, wasn't able to make it up for Christmas.) It took me a few seconds to register that she was there, but once I did the tears came! I was just so excited and happy! Between Thursday and Saturday, we ate too much and spent a lot of time with a lot of family. A huge thanks to all those who took us in and made this Christmas wonderful!
Needless to say, its been a crazy couple of weeks! Hopefully, my blogs from now on won't be nearly as long! If you read all that, I commend and appreciate you. I hope you'll continue to read as I document my Utah adventures.
Thanks a bunches!