So, spending two days solo in Illinois had its pros and cons. Pros: no schedule; no limits on where I could go and what I could do; no screaming children running around like banshees, fighting. Cons: I started talking to myself pretty early on. It did get a bit lonely, but it was fun to go see Korea town and shop at little obscure shops and drive past Michael Jordan's neighborhood.
Pretty much, I'm glad my family is finally here. It is so fun to be with everyone and to be able to show them the sights of my mission.
We haven't done a whole lot yet--just visiting people and eating a lot. Last night we were able to go to the temple. Wow. What an awesome experience. I forgot how much I love being there with the people I love most.
Oh, and I recently have developed inflammation of the area between my ribs and cartilage that huts a lot (well, only when I breathe). Hopefully it'll go away soon (don't worry. I've got plenty of ibuprofen and I'm taking it).
That's all I've got.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Chi-Town Stage 1: The airport
So, I'm writing this from the SLC airport. Due to the boy scout in my blood, I am extremely prepared with a year's supply worth of snacks, about 7000 lbs of books that I probably won't read, and an hour to spare. This gives me the perfect opportunity to...people watch!
The airport tends to attract all types. Starting off, we've got the computer nerds in the corner. Actually, I think they're really mafia because they are using an old clunky PC and we all know that the only use for those is if you need a quick weapon. Also, they keep drinking their frescas and staring at me. Maybe they know something...
Next, there's a woman who I will affectionately call "pill popper". She's wearing fish net tights, gulping her drink, and taking some sort of pill in between bites of her krispy kreme donut.
A few seats over, a girl named "miss wannabe illusive". She's wearing big sunglasses (inside) and she's been talking on her cell phone for what looks like at least 12 hours as she's starting to grow into the upholstery of the airport chair.
Pill popper just left.
Oh. There's my favorite. His name is Billy (well, it should be if it's not). I haven't seen anyone so decked out in cowboy gear for a long time. It's a wonder his pants don't fall down with the size of that belt buckle.
pill popper is back with another donut.
Well, I'm excited about this trip. I have a feeling that it's going to be exhausting, fun, crazy, and really weird to be in Chicago in pants. Still, I can't wait to see everyone and chi-town.
The airport tends to attract all types. Starting off, we've got the computer nerds in the corner. Actually, I think they're really mafia because they are using an old clunky PC and we all know that the only use for those is if you need a quick weapon. Also, they keep drinking their frescas and staring at me. Maybe they know something...
Next, there's a woman who I will affectionately call "pill popper". She's wearing fish net tights, gulping her drink, and taking some sort of pill in between bites of her krispy kreme donut.
A few seats over, a girl named "miss wannabe illusive". She's wearing big sunglasses (inside) and she's been talking on her cell phone for what looks like at least 12 hours as she's starting to grow into the upholstery of the airport chair.
Pill popper just left.
Oh. There's my favorite. His name is Billy (well, it should be if it's not). I haven't seen anyone so decked out in cowboy gear for a long time. It's a wonder his pants don't fall down with the size of that belt buckle.
pill popper is back with another donut.
Well, I'm excited about this trip. I have a feeling that it's going to be exhausting, fun, crazy, and really weird to be in Chicago in pants. Still, I can't wait to see everyone and chi-town.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Today
Yesterday (yes, I know that's a rather ironic way to begin the post named "today"), the home teaching lesson was on President Monson's talk: "live in the past, remember the future, and...the pallet of the poisly has the true that is blue. Just remember that". It really got me thinking about the importance of living in the present. So, I have made a new goal to enjoy today.
How many times do I think, "I can't wait until the weekend!" "I can't wait until summertime!" "I can't wait until finals are over!" "I can't wait until I get another comment on my blog!". I realized that I sometimes miss the most important moments of my life, looking for the next most exciting one.
So, today I went for a good long (6 mile) run and loved it. I was only a few blocks from my house when the first exciting moment occurred: a high school aged boy leaned half way out his window to scream and/or whistle at me. I instinctively sped up my pace, sucked in my stomach, and flexed my arms-just in case. Then I remembered that today, there is a boy who loves me. I slowed down and made my arms look as flabby as possible. (*note: my arms look exactly the same flexed or not. I don't know why I even try.) As I continued my run, I remembered how I used to hate the process of running, but love the feeling after. Now, I love every second of the process. What a blessing that my body works and that I can breathe (depending on how fast I'm running) and that I could enjoy the sunshine!
I used to think that Satan invented final's week. But today, I'm glad for finals because it means that I'm lucky enough to have an education. (The added bonus is that finals are over and I got $91 for selling back two textbooks.)
What a great day it is today.
How many times do I think, "I can't wait until the weekend!" "I can't wait until summertime!" "I can't wait until finals are over!" "I can't wait until I get another comment on my blog!". I realized that I sometimes miss the most important moments of my life, looking for the next most exciting one.
So, today I went for a good long (6 mile) run and loved it. I was only a few blocks from my house when the first exciting moment occurred: a high school aged boy leaned half way out his window to scream and/or whistle at me. I instinctively sped up my pace, sucked in my stomach, and flexed my arms-just in case. Then I remembered that today, there is a boy who loves me. I slowed down and made my arms look as flabby as possible. (*note: my arms look exactly the same flexed or not. I don't know why I even try.) As I continued my run, I remembered how I used to hate the process of running, but love the feeling after. Now, I love every second of the process. What a blessing that my body works and that I can breathe (depending on how fast I'm running) and that I could enjoy the sunshine!
I used to think that Satan invented final's week. But today, I'm glad for finals because it means that I'm lucky enough to have an education. (The added bonus is that finals are over and I got $91 for selling back two textbooks.)
What a great day it is today.
Friday, April 18, 2008
My Classical Music Complex
Okay. Confession time. So, I went to take my first final this morning, and when I heard a Vivaldi melody line drifting through the air, I suddenly felt sick. Literally.
Background: Many children have somewhat of a rebellious streak. (I guess that's a generalization. Maybe it was just me.) When I was young, the only music playing in my house was Classical. Occasionally, my mom would shake things up just enough to throw us off, by playing some Mormon Tabernacle Choir. At a young age, I went on a road trip with one of my childhood friends and her family, and I realized that there was more music out there. Wow. At that moment, I decided that I was through with this classical brainwashing, and from then on and forever, classical music made me carsick. Weird, I know. I've tried to break free of my own weird associations, but now and then (especially during finals week I guess) it hits me.
So, back to the test taking. I was walking to the test taking room in the WILK, heard the music, and could picture in my head taking my test: trying and trying but then crashing and burning like the little engine who couldn't. I started feeling nauseous and weak and John E's recent line "mom, my frontal cortex slipped to the back" was taking on new meaning. Luckily, the Vivaldi ended and some Chopin started (which is much better on my nerves) and I was able to do fairly well.
Another disaster avoided. Thank you Chopin.
*Note: To all you classical lovers out there, I actually really like classical music now. Don't judge me. People can change.
*Anther note: To all you who are taking finals, my mom recently told me about a study that was conducted making a connection between blood sugar and brain capacity. Lesson: eat lots of sugar and you'll do well on your tests.
Background: Many children have somewhat of a rebellious streak. (I guess that's a generalization. Maybe it was just me.) When I was young, the only music playing in my house was Classical. Occasionally, my mom would shake things up just enough to throw us off, by playing some Mormon Tabernacle Choir. At a young age, I went on a road trip with one of my childhood friends and her family, and I realized that there was more music out there. Wow. At that moment, I decided that I was through with this classical brainwashing, and from then on and forever, classical music made me carsick. Weird, I know. I've tried to break free of my own weird associations, but now and then (especially during finals week I guess) it hits me.
So, back to the test taking. I was walking to the test taking room in the WILK, heard the music, and could picture in my head taking my test: trying and trying but then crashing and burning like the little engine who couldn't. I started feeling nauseous and weak and John E's recent line "mom, my frontal cortex slipped to the back" was taking on new meaning. Luckily, the Vivaldi ended and some Chopin started (which is much better on my nerves) and I was able to do fairly well.
Another disaster avoided. Thank you Chopin.
*Note: To all you classical lovers out there, I actually really like classical music now. Don't judge me. People can change.
*Anther note: To all you who are taking finals, my mom recently told me about a study that was conducted making a connection between blood sugar and brain capacity. Lesson: eat lots of sugar and you'll do well on your tests.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
First Post
This blog has been a long time coming. After weeks and weeks of peer pressure, I'm finally giving in--NOT because I have anything interesting to say, but rather, I have hundreds of mindless, uninteresting things to say. So, to any of you who have nothing better to do...here goes.
Today, my favorite sister dianey and I went on our first-semi-annual-reading-day-DI-shopping-spree. It was quite the enjoyable treasure
hunt and we came off conquerors. As we walked across campus
afterwards, flaunting our DI bags and their precious contents, we
reminisced about the days when we would've rather died than to be
caught in public with a DI bag. We would actually go shopping at
GAP or Old Navy or somewhere, and save our bags to reuse if we ever
needed one to take to school. That way, "they" would know how cool we
were.
So, it got me thinking, who is this mysterious "they" I've been
looking out for all my life? Who's to say that DI shopping is less
cool than GAP shopping. Actually, now that I think about it, it seems
more embarrassing to carry your GAP bag with the one shirt that you
could purchase with the allotted budget, as opposed to the five shirts
and pair of shoes, that could be purchased at DI for the same price.
And why did "they" say that baby girls should wear pink, and boys
blue. Seriously, if you were going for alliteration with the B thing,
you'd think they would say green or gumby or something instead of
pink.
And what about blogging? Why am I writing this at 12:47 am? Simply because of "them"
This list could go on and on.
I mean, really. Is my DI bag really more embarrassing than the girl I
saw on campus today, sneaking up on a duck to take a picture of it
with her phone? I bet she'd be more successful if she camouflaged her
phone like a twinky. I hear ducks love those things.
I think that "they" deserve a good talking to about the traditions of
this society. "They" definitely should say that it's more cool for
professors to never give finals. But, since "they" haven't said
anything on that topic, if anyone has "their" information, I would like it so I can send "them" a nasty email.
Disclaimer: I actually do really like the color pink. Also, to all you who are wondering about the blog title, if you like it, it was my idea. If you think it's stupid, Barney named it. If you don't get it, it's a quote from the Book of Mormon with the unwritten "be Mary". Funny huh.
Today, my favorite sister dianey and I went on our first-semi-annual-reading-day-DI-shopping-spree. It was quite the enjoyable treasure
hunt and we came off conquerors. As we walked across campus
afterwards, flaunting our DI bags and their precious contents, we
reminisced about the days when we would've rather died than to be
caught in public with a DI bag. We would actually go shopping at
GAP or Old Navy or somewhere, and save our bags to reuse if we ever
needed one to take to school. That way, "they" would know how cool we
were.
So, it got me thinking, who is this mysterious "they" I've been
looking out for all my life? Who's to say that DI shopping is less
cool than GAP shopping. Actually, now that I think about it, it seems
more embarrassing to carry your GAP bag with the one shirt that you
could purchase with the allotted budget, as opposed to the five shirts
and pair of shoes, that could be purchased at DI for the same price.
And why did "they" say that baby girls should wear pink, and boys
blue. Seriously, if you were going for alliteration with the B thing,
you'd think they would say green or gumby or something instead of
pink.
And what about blogging? Why am I writing this at 12:47 am? Simply because of "them"
This list could go on and on.
I mean, really. Is my DI bag really more embarrassing than the girl I
saw on campus today, sneaking up on a duck to take a picture of it
with her phone? I bet she'd be more successful if she camouflaged her
phone like a twinky. I hear ducks love those things.
I think that "they" deserve a good talking to about the traditions of
this society. "They" definitely should say that it's more cool for
professors to never give finals. But, since "they" haven't said
anything on that topic, if anyone has "their" information, I would like it so I can send "them" a nasty email.
Disclaimer: I actually do really like the color pink. Also, to all you who are wondering about the blog title, if you like it, it was my idea. If you think it's stupid, Barney named it. If you don't get it, it's a quote from the Book of Mormon with the unwritten "be Mary". Funny huh.
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