Thanksgiving 2011

Well... the power went out fifteen minutes before dinner was served. Good thing we could actually eat because the food was finished! It's interesting to be 18 and around 21 year old's with all their "grown-up" ways of celebrating. But i had fun regardless of the circumstances!!!

Living Simply

I watched a youtube video and my favorite line out of it was "Live simply, so others can simply live." What more can people ask for? This life is for us to do our best but not for ourselves. For other people. Live your best in the service of others whether they are a stranger, a best friend, or a family member.

It's The Times...

It's the times when you aren't paying attention that matter most. Those times are when you are talking to a friend and realize how blessed you truly are. It's when you are talking to a roommate and realize how much your mom taught you through chores even when it ment work. It's the times you think back on life and are truly humbled and remember God. It's the times when you look around you and just feel happy for no apparent reason. It's the times when you read a friend's facebook status and smile with gratitude. It's every little second of every small minute of every normal hour of every average day that makes you think about the things that matter.

Sisters and Being Sick

Yesterday, I almost passed out and had to leave church early. Later that day, after I had fed all the guys who don't have kitchens that I know (20 people in all, guys and girls), I got together with my friend and we watched The Work and the Glory parts I & II. Halfway through part II, about midnight, my friend, her roommates and I got to talking about church and the feelings that we have about the gospel and different things in life. We got talking about how we have changed ourselves to be better. We talked about life at BYU-I and the difference it has made in our lives. We shared quotes, smiled, laughed and generally acted like girls do at midnight. And then, we got to talking about how much we love each other, the people around us, and the gospel of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

Yes, we are Mormons.

I go to BYU-I, a Mormon school. I have a deep love for this gospel. It has changed my life beyond recognition. I am always curious what kind of person I would be if I didn't grow up with the gospel. People say that a person's intent stays the same no matter what and their character doesn't change. But if I didn't grow up with the values I did, I don't know where I would be. I don't know who I would be. And because of that confusion about who I'd be, the gospel has changed my life.

It's crazy what can happen at midnight on a Sunday when you're sick and surrounded by friends that have become your sisters. There is a quote that states, "Best friends are sisters destiny forgot to give you." That is what I feel like happened for all the girls I know. I can talk to them about anything and they will be there for me. And I for them.

Art

Is it entirely subjective? Do we really notice the beauty of the world around us? Do we stop to notice the guitar player on the side of the road trying to earn his dinner or the leaves strewn across the grass by the wind? Do we look down too often and watch where our feet are stepping rather than looking up and appreciating the world around us? Too often we are told what is good and what we should appreciate instead of looking for ourselves. Too often to we let our head droop from exhaustion until someone says “look.” The world we live in today is extremely contextualized: we are told day to day what to do, what to listen to, what to look at, what to think. It is so much so that we often don’t think for ourselves. When asking someone what they think about a controversial subject, ask where they got their opinion. More often than not, they took their opinion from others and didn’t search it out for themselves. That is the world we live it today: thinking has become a tedious, monotonous and unnecessary task.

Indifference

In Webster's Online Dictionary, there is a certain definition set for 'indifference.' However, I would like to try defining it myself. Indifferece is when someone is apathetic towards someone or something; a.k.a. they don't really car. It is a lack of emotion. For example: 1 - I was indifferent to what my roommate did as long as it didn't affect me. 2 - Someone gets killed right in front of you and it doesn't eve faze you. You don't react.

As Elie Wiesel portrayed in her essay entitled The Perils of Indifference, indifference is making a choice not to make a choice.

You often have to force yourself to be indifferent similar to what Peter Parker did when he decided not to be Spiderman. Indifference makes us inhuman. Sometimes indifference is confused with greed and selfishness. Both actions take away a person’s humanity. Was Christ ever indifferent? However, is indifference always bad? Can we ever enjoy a good meal? Do we have to practice indifference to keep sane, live and function? Can indifference make us in some way human? The only way you can be righteously indifferent is if you are indifferent of your own suffering.

What is a story?

Mark Bennion, a professor at BYU-I wrote in his essay Thinking About the Self, “We tell stories to call forth our humanity, bind ourselves to a greater community, and declare that an individual’s values and perceptions still matter.” But what is a story really but a collection of words with meaning attached? I believe in the power of stories, but I posed that question to make myself think. A story is something more than just a jumble of words, but rather a part of our lives we are attempting to give to the listener.

AP Calculus AB

The best teacher I ever had would probably have to be my AP Calculus AB teacher, Mr. Smith. He stayed long hours of every day, including Saturdays and over certain holidays so that we might pass the AP test at the end of the year. From 6 am to 9 pm, he worked and taught and laughed and enjoyed himself. His policy was that if we were able to learn and gave our best effort, he hadn’t failed and would continue to teach. His sole purpose was to help us learn not only those things needed to pass the exam, but those things needed for life as well: hard work, determination, and most of all believing in you. He worked like no other teacher has worked before. He sweated, got stressed, tired, cried, ate, laughed, worked, played, memorized and grew with us. He was someone we looked to for answers and someone we knew we could count on. He was our friend, ally, and familiar. He influenced us in more ways than we can count. He believed in us so we believed in ourselves.

Fear

What is fear but the absence of comfort and confidence? Why does it mean so much to us and why can this feeling paralize our bodies and weaken our minds? Perhaps it's because fear is something that is felt by everything no matter if it has a heart or not.  It is a universal emotion that unites everyone and everything. No matter how tough and hardened the criminal is, fear will always be felt. People like to act all tough and fearless but that is only their insecurity speaking. You can't deny fear. It will always be there. The best that we humans can do is decide to ignore it and push on anyway. Forget our own feelings and keep going because in the end, it will be worth it.

Interesting

“The black sheep, a sore thumb, the ugly duckling – all things which notoriously stick out and don’t quite fit in, and to such a list one may add the name of Richard Hartman, a Baptist Pastor in Rexburg, Idaho.” (pg 94, I Think)

What an interesting way to open anything, whether a book, speech or paper. The title of this paper is “A Baptist in Zion: Life Through the Eyes of Religious Minorities.” You can only assume that they will be talking about this Baptist, Hartman, and how he “doesn’t quite fit in” as the opening line states. But the part that snags me is everything before the dash; the first nine words. Each of us know what those things have in common and the different stories behind each of them, especially if that sore thumb is ours or we believe to ourselves to be the ugly duckling or black sheep in the family. There is always someone out of place and more often than not, we believe that to be ourselves no matter how “in place” we are. This first sentence, especially the first part, appeals to our human nature and therefore draws us in with curiosity and a need to identify with others like us in some way.

What are "Idle" Words?

*In this post, I stated my thoughts, someone replied, and I replied back.*

Me: Idle words are those that we choose to share for no reason at all. They fill space just because they can. Some people talk just to hear themselves talk or to fill the empty space around them. To be idle is a narrower way of saying lazy. Idle people are never moving forward, rather backwards as they sift through space and time never making an effect on the world around them.

Response: Comparing writing and talking really helped me understand the effect of “idle,” and I fully agree to your last statement about idle things never making a difference in the things around them. This thought also came to me as I thought about the question. What do you think can help fix this problem of idleness?

Me: One simple way to fix this problem can be summed up in one word: education. There is a concept in humanities called The Abundant Life vs. Cultural Poverty. The more we know the more power we have. The more power, the more you are compelled to act and to reach beyond your limit of space and make a difference in the world around you. With education comes the power to do differently than you would otherwise.

The Essence of Captain Jack Sparrow

First, let's say that he is a captain and therefore has authority. He is an awesomely fearless character. His boat is in ruins so he probably traveled far. He doesn’t have very good logic. He is respectful to the dead and thankful for warnings although not wary of them, nor does he listen very often. He attracts attention and doesn’t matter what others think of him. He knows how to bribe people and he walks like a drunken buffoon. He is actually pretty smart. He has no sense of values and does what he pleases whenever he pleases. He’s comical and optimistic. Not really worried about things. Dramatic, fearless, endlessly lucky.

An object that represents me.

An object that represents me… well one thing that I find represents my personality is a rainbow. It’s colorful and happy and comes with the sun. I am generally a happy person and, at least in my view, rainbows are happy things. It means that the rain is leaving and the sun is coming out from behind its covers to warm the earth below. A rainbow represents all things on Earth. Each color can be seen as a different “mood” as on a mood ring. To put it simply, a rainbow is the earth’s mood ring as it is a description of my personality. The vibrancy can represent my outgoingness and my willingness to try new things. I generally find joy in life with the exception of those days gone without sleep. My moods can range from any side of the color spectrum at any moment (which is not to say I am bipolar) however I try to keep it on the light and sunny side of life. As one song in O Brother Where Art Thou states, “Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side; keep on the sunny side of life!” Another example is as my personal “theme song” states, “Don’t worry, be happy!”
(And don't worry, I'm not a homo. I'm just a happy person.)

Tears

There is a song that states "tears are born from fragments of pain, not sorrow or regret." That is true. You are sad because of the pain you feel due to something that happened to you. Regret is the pain of you doing something. And pain is something that happens as a result of actions that you were not in control of. But when things happen to people that it doesn't need to happen to, that's when the pain comes to you the most especially when you're supposed to protect them. What are you supposed to do when you are miles and hours away and someone needs to and you can't be there for them? Even when it's not in any way your fault, you still feel responsible when it's your little sister. What are you supposed to do when you can't do anything? The only thing that I can think of is to pray to God for help, comfort and love. That is the best thing that I have found to do. And that's the best thing that you can tell someone in need of help that you can't offer to do. So no matter how desperate, lost, alone and utterly forgotten you feel, never forget to pray because within praying is your best solace because Christ will always be there for you no matter what you have done and how bad you feel. He always loves you and will always comfort you when you feel like sinking any lower would be nearly impossible.

$20 Lemonade Stand

This is a true story.

One day, Mrs. Jacobs was driving home after grocery shopping. She passed a lemonade stand run by a bunch of kids, waving signs with '25 cent lemonade' written on them. She decided to buy one, only didn't pay 25 cents or even $1. She gave the kids $20 for one cup of lemonade, got back in the car and drove home.

The moral of this story isn't to buy lemonade from kids, but rather to be generous and kind.

The challenge of this story is that one day, when you have kids, give a random group of kids **$20** for a cup of lemonade. Pass the story on and give others the challenge.

**It doesn't have to be $20. Just whatever you can afford and still be generous.*

10 Reasons Why I Can't Sleep

1. I'm bored.
2. Not tired enought.
3. Had a nap a few hours ago.
4. Having an insomnia attack.
5. Distracted on my computer.
6. Homework.
7. Texting..... sometimes.
8. Stressed.
9. Don't feel like it.
10. Angry/annoyed.

Dreams

Many disagree with me, but I believe that we all need a rediculous dream that could become possible. We need that for the hope it gives us and for the little bit of insanity that's good for us. Being too realistic takes the joy out of life. A dream is there to give us a sense of unrealism. What good is it not to sometimes act like a kid again and pretend that you are a fairy or you are a princes locked up in a tower and imprisoned by a dragon. Being too realistic takes the joy out of life. To put it simply, relism is impossible and being to realistic is overall depressing. YOU CAN'T BE A REALIST! To even attempt to do anything in life shows that somewhere, subconsciously or otherwise, that you have a dream and you are trying to achieve it, realistic or not. How many people become president? 1 every 4 years. How many people try anyway? How many people will win first place at FNL Nationals (Debate)? 1 person/team in each event out of a total of 2,500 kids. How many people will win the Nobel Peace Prize? 1 in a million. So what? You can still try! It doesn't matter how impossible it might seem. It doesn't matter how many people or statistics are against you! The average homeless person off the street can get a place to live if they just work towards it. I don't care how hard it is. I'm not talking about the realistic side of it. The fact is... it's possible. That's all that is needed for most people to get their butts off the ground and TRY! There are no true realists in the world today because anyone who gets up and does something is a dreamer, no matter how big or small, important or insignificant, the dream might be. The fact is, IT EXISTS! Don't you ever try to tell me otherwise!!!

Something new...

Love. That’s a normal 13 year old’s first thought when she sees someone gorgeous. Especially when it’s Eddie Backer. His soft, shiny hair, twinkling blue eyes, dazzlingly white smile. He had any girl he could ever want wrapped around his finger. Except me. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. None of my friends understood why, but none of he could see what I saw: the truth.

I’m Elsie Bradburry. I’m not the normal teen. I’m not even human. I’m not sure what I am, but I’m not as normal as everyone thinks. I look normal, but magic can easily hide the differences between my body and the average teen’s.

Pointed ears, slated eyes, extra-long eyelashes, longer canine teeth, extra long hair, blood-red pupils. At first I thought I was an elf, then a vampire. I’m neither of those. I don’t have extra awesome reflexes or long life. I’m not invincible and don’t thirst for blood. I actually abhor the thought of eating any meet no matter the species. I’m the absolute opposite of a vampire.

The reason I destest Eddie Backer is not because he is a blood-sucking feind. Rather because of the way he treats my kind: magic kind. He is just a regular human with the knowledge of the magic world. To an extent. He doesn’t know what I actually am but he knows of other people who are like me: different; not entirely human. Hidden amongst the hustle and bustle, the rushing to and fro, the business of life. Some hide behind full body masks, creating an illusion of normalcy just like me. Some look perfectly normal, just have to keep their attitudes in check. But most choose to separate themselves from the world. The majority are different but choose to hide.

 The few humans who know of our world choose to ignore the truth. Few of them act upon the knowledge and fewer of those act kindly. Eddie is one of those few who choose the easier action: to act unkindly in defense against something that’s different. He chose hatred, racism and violence, and as someone who has always excepted people as they are, even the vampires, I could not understand his feelings towards those in possession of magic. Towards my people. As much as I loath and despise some of them, they are still my people.

My friends could never understand. They always said “What’s wrong with you? He’s a perfectly nice person. Plus he’s so cute!” but they didn’t know my big secret. I could never tell them, as much as I wanted to. They would react out of horror and fear instead of wonderment, sympathy and support.

I didn’t have a single person in the world who knew my secret. Not even my parents. I didn’t even know who they were. They didn’t exist in my memory. And if they are alive today, they are nowhere near here. But sometimes I feel as though someone is watching me…

I was startled out of my revere as MaKayla shook me, yelling in my face.

“Hey! Are you listening to anything I’m saying? I’m trying to explain why Eddie is such a great guy! Oh forget it! You don’t normally listen anyways!”

Love

Yes, a cheesie topic, but it's worth so much more then money. It's something everyone in the world has to learn. Perhaps, if we all shared a little bit more love, the world would be that much better. Show love by small acts of kindness, a smile to anyone and everyone, a hug where it's unexpected, and a kind word where it's needed. Everyday should be called "Show a little more kindness then yesterday" day.

Think about it.

How much kinder would we be to those around us if we made the decision to be that much kinder to everyone we met? How much better of a day would we have then the last every day if others treated you better then they did the day before? How many more friends and allies would we have if we decided to simply be nice to one another? How often would wars not happen? How much easier would it be to get along with your enemies if you were nice? Would enemies even exist at all?

We should ask ourselves these questions of just about anything in life. Just one question at a time, and something that seemed like such a good idea suddenly becomes dumb. And something that may have seemed uncool before may become the coolest thing to do. The quality of life would change for everyone, even those less fortunate then the majority of us: those without any feeling of hope, love, exceptence or worth.

If we just reached a hand out to those in need, smiled at everyone, said 'Hi' to those we passed on the street, and acted out of kindness every day, everyone would be happier. It's the principle of the 'Feel good, Do good' phenomenon in reverse. 'Do good, Feel good.' And in doing so, we apply both principles to our lives and are ever feeling better and better, doing more and more good, and make the world a more livable place because the smallest word of kindness in just the right place can make the difference in one person's life, having a ripple effect on them and spreading to those closest to that person. When you effect one person, you NEVER effect just one life. You effect more people then you could create a formula for.

Never leave anything the same as when you left it, or so the quote says. That should be changed to ALWAYS leave things better then when they come to you.

Your decisions effect people in ways you wouldn't even begin to believe possible. THINK before you act and SMILE before you talk. DECIDE to be happier and nice and the world WILL be a better place.

You mean almost nothing to the world, but you mean the WORLD to someone. Especially when you don't know who that person is, but you acted in kindness anyway. Let your heart and conscience guide you and I promise, as long as you act in kindness, you won't go wrong.

Strangers

People you meet that you don't know. Previously unseen faces, unknown attitudes, undiscovered personalities. Unsure of ourselves and others, we choose to guard our secrets and act differently then we normally would. And yet, there are always those people who make us open up without a second thought. Always those who make us want to be ourselves. Why someone we just met can have such an effect on us is a mystery and perhaps it always will be. And yet there is always that warning voice in the back of our heads telling us to be careful and not to make yourself vulnerable to someone you don't know. Slowly, as we get to know the person better, that voice retreats and becomes silent almost all the time. It's always there, but it normally knows when to pop out. It's what we call our instinct. Most of us could probably stand to listen to it more often then not. The things we tell them are strange and varying but nevertheless revealing about ourselves. People will say just about anything to just about anyone. Only rarely to we utterly avoid people we see because our instinct tells us to. We avoid others becausee it's normal and we would be considered strange if we didn't. Some we don't necessarily feel open to just because and some we will tell and give answers to just about anything that they ask.

And still, we push ourselves past our boundaries to gain new friends and new insights into the world. A connection we previously didn't have. Something new we didn't have moments ago. As humans we are incredibly curious. You know what they say, "Curiosity killed the cat," only problem is that the cat has nine lives whereas humans only have one. Or so the legend goes. Or story. Or call it what you will. But regardless of the name, it still exists. Back to curiosity.... why are humans so curious with only one life given to live? Why are we so incredibly willing to be so different and yet so much the same as the crowd? Again, conformity to complete strangers is yet another unsolved mystery of the universe. Perhaps all those mysteries lead up and answer the biggest mystery of them all............... Who are we? Not in general to the universe or the human race or anything of that sort, but rather to ourselves. Perhaps that's why we are so infallibly curious. Perhaps that is the reason certain strangers can make us tell them just about anything. And yet again, maybe the answers to those questions aren't anywhere near to the answers to that crucial question. Maybe they don't even lead anywhere near the answer. And yet, I believe that the answers to those questions can give us more then we give them credit and tell us more about ourselves then any fortuneteller could.

Thoughts

Thoughts. All you need is a thought and boom..... something completely new has been started: and idea, an invention, a story. Your body holds your thoughts and puts the most powerful ones into actions. One idea to start it all. Everything in history was started because of one small thing in someone's mind. You can't find anything from the beginning of time that wasn't started because of an idea.

Anything, including the war. I was there. I saw it and witnessed it's destruction. I felt the devistation of thousands of lives and the ruin of countless cities. I know the sorrow and the anger that was bred because of it all.

Empires were destroyed, species wiped out, civilizations erased from the map. Things changed, and few live to remember how it was and most choose to shove those memories into the backs of their minds, the dustiest corners so they will never be seen agian. No record exists for writing it would be too painful a memory and too great a task to ask of anyone. Except her.

She was there before the war and she still remains. No one knows how old she truly is. Perhaps even she has forgotten. But a war such as that can never be forgotten by those that live to remember it.

Insomnia

Hmmmm. Not being able to sleep very well, or at all, gives a person a lot of time to think. Time is your enemy and your friend at night, in the quiet darkness that surrounds you. Your mind wanders and your imagination peaks because you have nothing else to do. Your earliest and irretrivable memories take on new and fantastic shapes, creating partial realities and magical places. Or at least they do for me. Slowly, sleep tires the eyes and the dim shapes of night begin to blurr. Those memories, partial realities and magical places become your dreams. And you can live in the past once again.

A Hopeless Love

Introduction: A small twist to Beauty and the Beast.

Some ways off, there grew a mysterious wood.  No one dared trespass in this wood for any who had, seldom returned.  In this strange and forbidden wood stood a castle.  This castle was also enchanted, and captive within was a nameless beast.  It is here, in this enchanted castle in a strange wood, where our story begins.

He stared out the window at the pouring rain.  It was always dark here as if his castle was locked in its own dungeon.  When the sun shone, its light never seemed to reach this magnificent palace or through its numerous windows.  The sun always seemed like a small, golden sphere shining its light everywhere except on this accursed place. In his hand he clutched a rose that was his love and fear.  It was a curse just as much as a gift.  It was the only beautiful thing in the palace, but it was also the most fearsome.  One solitary petal dropped onto the floor beside his ghastly feet.  As he stared at the petal, a distant door seemed to creak and he heard the indistinct voice of an old man.

He would have left him alone but for the voices of two servants that welcomed the man in.  What they offered this man appalled him to the greatest extent.  Who is this trespasser who DARES enter my prison and sit in comfort as I wait miserably for this nightmare to become reality?  How DARE my two servants offer him what I have strictly forbidden to any male passer whether he be young or old?  With these thoughts pulsing through his mind, he ran down the stairs and burst into a room lit with a warm fire.  The wind from the opening of the doors blew the brilliant flame to nothing but smoldering coals.

Amidst protests and endless pleading, he dragged the trespasser up the stairs to a tower filled with straw and cells.  He threw the man into a cell and went angrily back to where his rose rested.  He cradled the beautiful, fallen petal in his wolf-like hands and placed it in a jar along with the rest of the petals from the rose.  He thought of the many other petals that had fallen to the ground.  There were only three petals left on the enchanted rose.  Only three more days till the curse was complete and there was no escaping his now horrible form.

In those three days he must love and get a female to love him in return.  To that end did he still live.  But it was hopeless to do what must be done to break this foul curse.  How could a beast and a beauty fall in love over three days?

He brooded there for hours on end, thinking over his past life and then imagining the terrible life to come once his curse truly imprisoned him forever.  As he stared up at the thick, grey curtain that was the ceiling of his prison, he wished that the sun would truly shine just once before this nightmare became his true but terrible reality.  Here, the sky cried relentlessly, mourning the appalling curse that had been put upon him.  It was as if the sky knew his future and cried for the loss of joy it would have.  He could only imagine the despair and resentment that would come upon him if he never broke what the rose represented.

Slowly, as the moonless night wore on, his eyelids began to droop until he fell into restless slumber.  He dreamed of his father and mother; opening the door to find an unsightly woman standing before him; the woman turning into a beautiful and powerful witch; becoming the thing he now was; and seeing what he wished to, but never would, become.

When he awoke, he noticed that yet another crimson petal had fallen to the floor.  Stooping down, he laid it with the rest.  Only two more till it was complete.  It was against all hope that he wished for a miracle.  He knew none would come, but without hope, what did he have to live for?  Nothing.  Wishing for something else to think on, he stared helplessly at his rose, willing the last two petals to not fall but miraculously stay immovable on the wilting flower.

He sat there brooding his unwelcomed curse, and yet another petal fell.  He did not bother to place the solitary petal along with the others.  He had no strength left.  He let it lay there while he stared at it, unwilling to move or answer his servants’ pleading questions.  It was almost over, his nightmare, but his now locked reality was just about to begin.  He closed his eyes and slept, resting well for the first time since the rose had come into his possession.

He was awakened by the sound of distant creaking and the calling of a young girl’s voice.  He started down the stairs at a more relaxed but excited pace than before.  Upon reaching the bottom, he finally beheld the beautiful girl to whom the voice belonged.

She was a little thing and he seemed to wallow forever in the green ocean of her big, round eyes.  Her face was pale, but her nose and ears were rosy for the weather outside was cold.  Her dress was nothing extraordinary, made from simple cloth, but it complimented her body perfectly.  Her hair flew unruly from her head like an irrepressible wild fire.

As he stared in wonder at this young virgin, he wondered if she could ever learn to love him.  While his thoughts drifted to fantasies he knew would not come true, the young woman took notice of him for the first time.  Her gaze pierced his soul.  In her eyes, he saw his reflection: wolf-like face with human eyes, razor sharp teeth meant for killing, dark brown, almost black, fur covering him from head to toe, his frightening body morphed to be like a wolf’s but combined with a human.  In here eyes, he saw himself but also saw fear.

“Where is my father? I know you have him,” she said in a shaky but demanding voice.

“He is my prisoner and is staying in the dungeons of the highest of all the towers in my castle,” he replied.

“Please, let him out and give him to me to take home,” pleaded the girl.

“Only if you stay,” he bargained, but against all hope.

“Not for all the love in the world could I stay with a beast such as yourself,” retorted the girl.

“Then take him and leave me. Be gone!” he yelled with sad finality.

As the girl ran up the stairs to retrieve her father, he turned and went back to watch the dying rose that would set the course of his future for time and all eternity.  He went to the window with the rose in his hand and watched as two blurred forms struggled through the rain and out of the gate that bound him prisoner.  As he stared, a single tear fell on the last petal of the dying rose, shimmering like a diamond resting on red velvet.  Together, tear and petal fell to seal his doom as the Beast cried from anguished grief.