:D :D :D :D :D

There's only so much emotion I can communicate with the emoticon.

Just had my interview with the Stake President. My papers will be submitted to Salt Lake City today! My Stake President predicted that my mission call will arrive on a week from Wednesday (June 10), but warned me to not get my hopes up... sometimes it takes a little longer. What an awesome Birthday present to meeeee!

:D

"Girls don't like poetry...

...Everyone knows that." That was a response to my comment that we had five boys and me at poetry club yesterday, and I wondered where all the girls were. I can think of a lot of girls who love it. But it was funny.

Remember last week when I said that I didn't like the poem I wrote at poetry club enough to post it? I changed my mind. It happens. Here it is:

Reasons for William

I sit on the dock and watch the boats sail
passengers laughing, enjoying the sun
though some look with longing back to the shore.
I know the feeling -- stuck, trapped, alone

Remember that time? Seems ages ago
we ran down the dock, impulsively jumped
right into a boat. We sailed for a day
sun shone so brightly; the water was fine.

Then after some time it lost its appeal
felt claustrophobic though out in the air
but you steered the boat still farther away.
I wanted to dock but you held the oars.

A storm began brewing, crescendoing wind
the boat began rocking, my hands clutched the sides
the sound of the waves crashing against wood
was just like my gut, and naucious I felt.

Then we tipped over. The rest is a blur.
Somehow I made it, safe, back to the shore.
That's why I sit here and watch others smile
enjoying the constance of my solid ground.

This week my poem was about my friend Suzie! It needs work... kind of lacks meter and rhythm and alliteration and rhyming and stanzas and all those things poems are made of, but I figure, hey. It's my blog, and I can post whatever I want. So here it is:

Banana Fanatic

First mix flour, sugar, spices
melt some butter -- only slightly
stir to reach the perfect point
mix, melt, stir, stop!

Cookies are a daunting task
ways to go wrong, I've found them all
So I just sit and watch her
with patient anticipation

As she stirs and adds and forms
she mentions their complexity
how she loves to create them!

Like pumping out those essays
over and over til it's just right
No longer do hers get red marks
that was the past
she learned from them
Now she's an expert, due to practice

I haven't patience to learn from failure
from my red marks, from burnt cookies

And when that buzzer fin'ly sounds
out comes the tray with rolling steam

With
drained cup of milk
cookie crumbs
and laughter ringing in my ears
I feel
completely
satisfied.

I like this writing poems about people thing. :) Turns out that Coldplay is good background music... quite inspirational. Eating one of Suzie's cookies helps too.

"I love to see the temple...

I'm going there someday!"

CHICAGO, IL

REXBURG, ID
With Mary and Barney

LAS VEGAS, NVOGDEN, UT

DRAPER, UT

JORDAN RIVER, UT

PROVO, UT
With the fam for Steve's wedding

BOUNTIFUL, UT
With my amigo, Paublito

SALT LAKE CITY, UT

LOGAN, UT
SPOKANE, WA

WASHINGTON D.C.

Suzie and I!

(Suzie took this one. A photographer in the making!)
MT. TIMPANOGOS, UT

OQUIRRH MOUNTAIN, UT

ST. GEORGE, UT

When I was little, I wanted to go to every temple in the whole wide world. Now with 130 operating temples and more being built all the time, my goal seems a little far fetched. But I think I can do it. I've been to 21 temples so far(inside or on the grounds), so I just have 109 to go!

I love the temple. I feel so much peace there, as I take a little time to be edified by the Spirit and separate myself from the world. I am so blessed to live in a place where I can go to the temple often. I am humbled by the good example of those who travel far distances and sacrifice much to come to the Lord's house.

Not pictured but on the list: Cardston, Alberta; Nauvoo, IL; Oakland, CA; Sacramento, CA; Manti, UT; Monticello, UT.

For more information about temples and why they are important, click here.

Hermana(?) Face

Yep, that's right. I'm going on a mission! Today we took pictures for my mission papers, and boy, was it hard to get one where I wasn't too squinty or too half-smiling or something. I'm just not photogenic. Oh well. I was thinking I oughta send in this picture to hint majorly how badly I'd like to go Spanish speaking...


I'm really excited. No matter where I go, it'll be where I need to be. God knows what He's doing. Most of me really feels that way, but it seems like everytime I hear, "you'll probably go to Boise" or, as my sister was saying today, "Don't be too cute in your picture... they'll send you to Temple Square!" I automatically hear a loud "No!" come out of my mouth, followed by a quick, "I mean... wherever. I'm sure it'll be great... mumble mumble..." Hmmmm. It seems there is still a lot of immaturity in me that remains despite my efforts.

Tonight was poetry night, and I don't like my poem enough to post it on the blog. Shame, it took me like a half hour to write.

Ball

If I had ears I first would hear
The wind's high pitch from moving fast
Then painless crash as I met house
crescendo-ed laughs with each return

If I had eyes I'd keep them shut
For being thrust into the air
would be enough to lose one's lunch
With blurs of color streaming past

My nose would smell the young boy's hands
His sweat from repetitious play
And then, too soon, the paneled wall
the ling'ring cedar still remains

If I had nerves I would feel pain
As bruises blue became rebruised
And wounds were not allowed to heal
Forever suffering-- endless game

Have you ever seen a gleeful sloth?

I guess I have too. But my point is, having nothing to do never was happiness.

I remember last semester being so busy, that I wondered when I could squeeze in a minute to cut my fingernails. Showers were skipped, meals were skipped, I had so much to do all the time that I didn't have the luxury of having time to take care of myself.

For some reason it's taking a long time for my church records to transfer to the right ward, and I have to wait for them before I can start working on my mission papers. I've already been to the dentist, been shopping for some mission clothes (at Miss D's! Como siempre...) and rescheduled my doctor's appointment twice (it'll be thrice tomorrow if I still can't start my papers), because I have to have my papers filled out as much as I can before I go. I'm only working about 12 hours a week, and have spent my time hiking, running, reading, studying PMG, watching old family videos, visiting friends from old wards, and now even writing blogs.

I feel so stuck, so stopped, so lazy, so bored, so underwhelmed.

I'd like to be just plain whelmed.

Looking on the bright side, at least I have material for tonight's poetry club! :)

Another gem from Jack Handy

"I understand how scissors can beat paper, and I get how a rock can beat scissors, but there's no way paper can beat rock. Is paper supposed to magically wrap around rock and leave it immobile? Why can't paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of college ruled notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they take notes in class? I'll tell you why, because paper can't beat anybody. A rock would tear it up in 2 seconds. When I play rock, paper, scissors, I always choose rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, 'I'm sorry, I thought your paper would protect you.'"

Jelly Belly Pancakes

I moved back home for the first time in two years, thinking it would just be a pit-stop before living in Guadalajara, Mexico for a while. But when all the little piggies came back from market, they decided they needed more attention and started coughing and complaining of high temperatures, so naturally panic struck and the trip was canceled. The adjustment of being home has actually been a lot smoother than I expected.

The first day I was home, my daddy-o made pancakes for breakfast--not unusual, but definitely a perk. He asked me if I wanted a jelly belly one, and I said sure, thinking that he must be joking. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy as putting jelly beans in your pancakes and serving them for the first meal of the day? I didn't really believe it 'til I got my first taste of chewy, melty Juicy Pear right after a bite of the bland, predictable pancake. This is a good metaphor for how it's been to live at home again.

Predictable, normal, nothing exciting, until suddenly you get a blast of wall-ball with John E. (Watermelon), talking and laughing with mom on her bed (Chocolate Pudding), the satisfaction of mowing a lawn again, but picking all the dandelions first to make a crown and a necklace to match (Sunkist Orange), or the disgusting, familiar experience of my dad conniving at my brother's wedding reception with the other men his age, who have nothing better to do but try to marry me off to the next available bachelor. "I'll give you a car if you marry my daughter." (Licorice. Yuck!)

We got these jelly bellys for Christmas and the pancake idea was mom's, for the purpose of getting rid of them. She's always thinking of ways to sneak food into our stomachs, not wanting to waste a single morsel.

The moral of the story is: I love my family, I love being home, and mmmmmm, how I love those jelly belly pancakes.

Pondering.

Since when did we all become so sophisticated and start commonly calling them "swine"? They're still pigs to me.