Thoughts By Kay

Phenomena

2010-10-31T10:52:00.000-07:00

I was reading one of my favorite philosophers this morning. This isn't part of my usual routine, but the little black book titled The Erotic Phenomenon caught my eye from across the room. Go figure.

Jean-Luc Marion is a French philosopher, and this particular work of he attempts to explain the meaning of love. It is fascinating and inspiring, and his definitions of love leave the reader begging to understand not only if he or she has felt this love, but its origin. Marion differs from modern day psychology and the secular trends it currently follows, as on the last page he gifts readers with the loving image of God. It is powerful because he has already written countless books with definitive, thorough theories without ever mentioning God. He proves Him without speaking of Him. Personally, I revere the approach he took. I always appreciate it when someone walks a road less traveled. Anyways, below are some excerpts I stumbled upon this morning.

"The lover is individualized by eternity, or, at least, by the desire for eternity... At the moment of loving, the lover can only believe what he or she says and does under a certain aspect of eternity... The lover just as much as the beloved needs the possible conviction that he or she loves this time forever, irreversibly, once and for all... Of course I can very well say 'I love you' while clearly doubting to be able (and doubting to want to be able) to love forever, indeed with the quasi-certainty of failing before long; but I can never say it without maintaining at least a tiny possibility (which is simply to say a possibility) that this time I will love forever, once and for all... If a possibility of eternity, as attenuated as you like, remains, even the eventual disappearance of 'I love you' will not abolish what was once accomplished---we have made love as lovers. And it will remain forever that this was actually one time an erotic reduction, validated by an oath. Regret, nostalgia, and the goodwill of memory draw their legitimacy and their dignity from the fact that I was truly able to say (perhaps without accomplishing it, but truly nevertheless), 'I love you once and for all.' The promise of eternity protects even the lovers who could not hold to it, and assures them once and for all the rank of lovers... In time, I have marked, if only for a time, an eternal moment, which belongs only to me, which came about only through and for me, and thus, which individualizes me once and for all. Once and for all---to have said it is sufficient to wound me with a wound that marks me forever and delivers me to myself." (pgs. 109-110)

He goes on:

"Consequently, if love is only said like it is given---in one way---and, if, moreover, God names himself with the very name of love, must we conclude that God loves like we love, with the same love as us, according to the unique erotic reduction? Clearly, one may hesitate, but nevertheless we cannot avoid this conclusion. For, in fact, God does not only reveal himself through love and as love; he also reveals himself through the means, the figures, the moments, the acts, and the stages of love, the one and only love, that which we also practice. He plays the lover, like us---passing through vanity, the request that one love him and the advance to love first, the oath and the face, the flesh and the enjoyment of communion, the pain of our suspension and the jealous demand, the birth of the third party in transit and the announcement of the eschatological third party, who ends up identifying himself in the incarnated Son, up to the unilateral promulgation by him to us of our faithfulness. God practices the logic of the erotic reduction as we do, with us, according to the same rite and following the same rhythm as us, to the point where we can even ask ourselves if we do not learn it from him, and no one else. God loves in the same way we do." (pgs. 221-222)

My very favorite:

"Except for an infinite difference. When God loves (and indeed he never ceases to love), he simply loves infinitely better than do we. He loves to perfection, without a fault, without an error, from beginning to end. He loves first and last. He loves like no one else. In the end, I not only discover that another was loving me before I loved, and thus that this other already played the lover before me, but above all I discover that this first lover, from the very beginning, is named God. God's highest transcendence, the only one that does not dishonor him, belongs not to power, nor to wisdom, nor even to infinity, but to love. For love alone is enough to put all infinity, all wisdom, and all power to work. God precedes and transcends us, but first and above all in the fact that he loves us infinitely better than we love, and than we love him. God surpasses us as the first and best lover." (p. 222, the ending paragraph of the book)

These quotes have always been among my favorites, the last being one of the most beautiful statements I have ever been privileged to read. However, today these verbose and eloquent quotes left me feeling inspired and empowered. Lately, nascent and anew, I have been probing for more descriptive ways to explain my innate transformation, my liberation, and the lit path of possibility stretched forever before me. Marion, along with prior personal dogma, have urged my optimism, doubts, sorrow, and joy to coalesce into one simple, yet transfiguring, and perhaps daunting (as possibility can, in my personal belief, invoke tremendous responsibility) question: If a lover, whom I invite into my life and simultaneously venerate and serve with much dignity, can ultimately and forever change how I feel, my aspirations, all my thought processes, my very reality, the emotions of my soul, and, in turn, the very belief and knowledge of who I am, why would I ever doubt that God, in His perfection, in the knowledge that He not only created me, but first that He introduced love and then forged me in its entirety, can serve as my infinite and eternal catalyst? Why would I ever doubt that He could not only comfort me, but beautifully and masterfully heal me? And why, after being healed, at times deem it apocryphal, legerdemain, or temporary? That, most certainly, is flagrancy beyond comprehension.

In His own cogent way, literally as night turned to day, God showed me who He is and what He eternally begs me to feel and come to understand. He knows who I am, all of my latent potential, and the very Being I am destined to become. I have never felt such warmth, depth, such permeating love, until it was blessed upon me by Him, and is not this the logic inside of the insanity? For only God can prove these feelings to me, and only through Him can I bear witness of them. Ergo, each day I am forced to ask myself: Have I completely lost my mind, or, in actuality, was I assisted in finding myself? The peace, the very essence of not only feeling, but being whole, endlessly rather than temporarily, if it is deemed by the world as nonexistent and, in turn, the cause of my psychosis, than I shall humbly bow my head and live each day in this wonderful craze. For I now know, as far as He has permitted me to understand, that an eternal realm is patiently waiting; not only for my arrival, but for my return.

Changing with the Weather

2010-10-24T10:43:00.000-07:00

Fall is my favorite time of the year.

The changing leaves, the shorter days, brisk air, and the very inviting choice to wear sweaters. Oh, and raspberry flavored hot cocoa begins to enter the scene, too.

This blog is simply to post gratitude for the most entrancing season of the year.

It is a time for families to spend the upcoming holidays together and...
it is a gentle reminder to wrap ourselves with the things in life that bring us the most warmth.

Fall is symbolic.
It may be the sole reason I can never picture myself permanently leaving Utah.
I think I will take a Sunday drive up the canyon today and see the colors.

I really wish I could paint, for this season is an artist's muse.
Personally, it is my catalyst.

Dear Fall,
You're beautiful.
Love,
Me

One of my favorite Fall songs...

.... Just Move On

2010-10-11T16:59:00.000-07:00

I relived the first day of my life.

It was nothing like I thought it would be. There were no witnesses, I was alone, and at work. It was, on all accounts, an ordinary day.

The previous few days had been harrowing. They were those kind of days that only a good cry and oversleeping can assuage... when being alone seems like what I deserve.... when I "hope" that I can maintain "hope" in a new life path. I had no reason to expect peace. Nor did I think I deserved it.

On this Wednesday afternoon it was work as usual. I had listened to rants on political radio for a majority of the day. I become tired and annoyed at listening to the same commercials aired repeatedly so I turned the volume off to drive in silence for a few moments until the commentator returned. It was me, my truck, a long stretch of dirt road, and the silence... It was routine.

It was then that I noticed it.

Small and subtle, like a gentle kiss on the cheek, a grin was resting peacefully on my face. It remained as if it had every reason to be there and its indifference told me I didn't need an explanation.

I basked in that moment for a split second; let it all soak in. It was quite simple what I was feeling: Happiness. Pure and peaceful happiness.

I began to laugh aloud. I couldn't contain myself. I was literally bursting from my seams with joy and gratitude. Many prayers and uneaten meals were waiting on a miracle... and their wait was finally over. For the rest of the day I decided to give politics a rest while I sang to every recognizable song on the radio. Seatbelt intact, I may have even performed some stationary dancing. Liberated and free, I felt unstoppable.

I'll leave past tense form now and say this feeling has carried over for about a week now. I am elated and empowered. I have this innate knowledge that everything is going to be ok; that I am not alone in this fight called life.

Some may call this confidence, and maybe even security. I however, happen to call it by what it really is... Faith.

Accompanying that blessed grin was a powerful feeling deep within my chest; its strength literally took my breath away. The best way to describe it would be that my heart was hugged. For a brief moment my very soul and Being engaged in a divine embrace. In that instant I not only became aware of who I am and the purpose my life has, I knew someone else knew all of this before I did, and that all of these years He was desperately waiting for me to listen. In this small moment, I learned about a different kind of love, the kind of love only a Creator can give to His struggling daughter. It is eternal, it is real, and it is beautiful.

Anyone who knows me can attest that my life has been difficult in a variety of ways. I know what it feels like to be used, worthless, abandoned, and deeply terrified. I know of the two-edged sword secrets possess. I have experienced those moments where physical pain is most literally pleasure compared to the war raging inside me. Befriending apathy many of times.... we became so well acquainted that I almost took my own life on several occasions. Even more difficult, I know the feeling of staring in the eyes of the person I love knowing very well the end of all we shared together was not only in my hands, but it was near.

So when I say I have a testimony of Jesus Christ as our Savior, I not only mean those words, I would die for them.

I testify that God does answer prayers and He is waiting and willing to gives us every opportunity in this life to return back to Him. He has provided the path; all we have to do is follow. He will walk with us every step of the way.

The Lord our Redeemer lives. That significant, yet simple, truth gave me the first day of the rest of my life. May I always have the courage to live each day in His name.

Song of Simplicity

"There is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes." -C.S. Lewis

Flightless Love

2010-08-29T11:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was a little bird,
left with a cage from which to see;
And watch I did with real intent,
for Their appearance unto me.

Hope vital within my chest,
I watched as night thieved the day;
The thought had yet been conceived,
that their love had walked away.

With each passing moon and sun,
dust found home upon the glass;
Hunger replaced warmth once felt,
to come for me was all I asked.

Trees browned and shivered too,
as I perched myself to face a hue;
Staring at walls on the other side,
pleased me more than wanting you.

I began to rot from inside out,
as the memories tore me apart;
Loving Them gave songs to sing,
now they scream within my heart.

And as the end crept over me,
Their faces infested my mind;
Closing my eyes I took my pain,
and flew to the other side.

They never did return for me,
I was helpless without a friend,
I spent my life on loving Them,
and it killed me in the end.

*This poem is in response to the question, "What would you do if you were a bird,trapped in a birdcage, and left in a home with no occupants?"

Update!

2010-08-24T20:54:00.000-07:00

Howdy ya'll!

I know it has been a second since my last post, life has been keeping me busy (which people have said is a good thing, but I just don't know anything different). So here is what's new in my life, bullet-point style:

1) I will no longer be applying to graduate school for psychology. Instead, I will be applying to the University of Utah's Master in Public Administration program in January. Wish me luck. Go Utes!
2) I am involved with three research teams at UVU; one of which I am team leader. These keep my mind rolling and I have been involved in projects focused on the interpretation of love in therapy, learning and memory, the mental health of EMS professionals, and an analysis of mental escapism of prisoners on death row. My professors have been so helpful and I am grateful for the opportunities they have presented me!
3) I proudly drive haul trucks for mi padre's company. True life.

4) I have an interview on Monday to be a writer for Gary Herbert's campaign for Governor. Once again, your wishing of luck would be greatly appreciated.
5) There is this thorn in my side that goes by the professional name of GRE. Sometimes I study for it and most times I don't. Standardized tests are an enemy of the state.

What else? I suppose I could throw politics out on the table.

I disagree with the mosque being built two blocks away from Ground Zero for sensitivity purposes. Well, then there was that "moderate" Imam and his funding I would like to be investigated as well.

OH! I almost forgot... some friends from high school and I are starting a writing group. The first meeting is planned to be at my parent's house, this Thursday, at 6:30 pm. If anyone is interested in joining, contact me and I will be glad to give you the details!

Resonance in Chaos

2010-08-01T12:02:00.000-07:00

We are all going to die.

Oh come on! That's universal knowledge. It's only unsettling when someone reminds you.

I have been reading a lot of politically based literature and watching the news obsessively. Throughout some of my recent discourse I'm sure others are thinking, "She sounds a lot like the creepy neighbor guy digging a bomb shelter in his backyard."

Sigh.

No bomb shelters for me. To dig a hole with that depth and for it to be hospitable to fit myself and loved ones would take months... maybe even years. Even if I was able to accommodate all of my loved ones in the same area, they would probably still end up extinct. Liberal extremists and gun totin' conservatives in a tight, air constricted small area? No thank you. Besides, I am renting and neurotic antics including the destruction of my cousin's lawn might be grounds for dismissal. However, my thoughts throughout educating myself with current events encompass a main conclusion: The world, as we know it, WILL end. Indefinitely. Up in flames. Gone. Depressing, I know. I apologize.

Call me crazy, but if any country in the Middle East acquires nuclear weapons, and the technology to utilize them, even the Sun will need to shield its eyes. And Pluto, you know, that frigidly cold planet we memorized by remembering its temperature, that it's blue, the runt of other planets, and because it reminds us of a favorite Disney character? The one we recently decided isn't a planet? Ya, that little guy will become the new tropical vacation, and evil genius, by commercializing our excess heat for tourism.

Since I have concluded Armageddon is afoot and that I'll be scaling the sides of the tallest mountain with attempt to survive, there are a few items I will need. Some extra clothes, a 72-hour kit (because wondering what you'll do after three days isn't unnerving at all), a cell phone (you never know!), my moleskin notebook (there will be nothing short to write about), a handgun with extra ammo (people do the darndest things), loved ones in sight and as companionship, and a fully charged iTouch.

Yes, music. Amidst the screaming and crying, and I apologize, this blog as been viscerally frightening and depressing, I might want a distraction. With that said, I offer my newest downloads and all their awesomeness.

Did she seriously switch the message of her whole blog that abruptly? Yes. It's my blog and I'm ADHD.

You can thank me later, you know, when we meet on that mountain top.

1) "Dirty Conversation" by Cameron Rafati

2) "Falling" by Galanis

3) "One Kiss Don't Make a Summer" by Lucky Soul

4) "Poker Face" (the piano version) by Lady GaGa

5) "Get the Party Started" (cover) by Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan.

6) "You Are My Favourite" by Sophie Madeleine

7) "Stuck Like Glue" by Sugarland

8) "Our Song" (acoustic version) by The Spill Canvas

9) "Crystalised" by The XX

10) "Black Winged Bird" by Nina Persson

Um... excuse me, but there is a Great Dane in your car.

2010-07-18T21:09:00.000-07:00

The most spontaneous adventures are always the most memorable.

Today I went with my little brother, our cousin, and our backyard monster to American Fork Canyon. Kona (monster) had never been to the mountains before and I was really excited to watch her explore and enjoy some time away from her fenced abode.

Initially, getting her there was quite the predicament. My four-seater sedan wasn't the most accommodating mode of transportation for a Great Dane and I was worried it could be a bad idea to attempt such a task. However, stealing my father's truck while he was out of town seemed to have fatal consequences so I decided we were going to risk our safety in wrecking my own vehicle. Somehow we made it work. How? I did what big sisters were created for and ordered my brother to take care of it. We placed a few towels under her so she wouldn't puncture the leather and off we went!

I'll be honest, I could easily imagine her trying to climb forwards and sending us into a chaotic frenzy through oncoming traffic, yet fortunately she loved the idea of cuddling with Corbin and smudging his face against the window a lot more than trying to maneuver her large self onto my lap in the front seat. Kona is a natural at riding in the car, we didn't have one problem with her. Corbin might have disagreed with me seeing how she innocently and persistently disregarded the concepts of "your" and "my" side of the car the entire drive, but he was the perfect candidate for the job. One aspect about Kona I adore is that she has no awareness for personal space, nor does she have any desire to learn. She watches us play with our small dogs all of the time and I think she truly believes she should be treated just as they are, no matter her size.

I don't know where she might have learned to behave so well in a car because the only times she has left our house it has been in the back of a truck headed to the vet. Sometimes I really wish I knew what dogs are thinking. The poor girl was probably having overwhelming anxiety about receiving an annual vaccine. Anyways, here are some pictures from our evening at Tibble Fork Reservoir in AF Canyon.

My brother, Corbin, and Kona kickin' it in the back seat. Obviously he loves the smell of her breath.

Corbin, Kona, and our cousin, Bradley ("Bubba") on the other side of the lake.

While hiking we decided to stop at this delightful dock. I learned three very quick lessons on the way:

1) Kona is an avid hiker! Who knew?!

2) Don't ever go with two young boys near water without expecting to get wet.

3) Never try to harness the "monster" on a dirt trail while wearing flip-flops.

"Can we please get in???"

"Only if you drag Kona with you." (Never miss an opportunity for a good photo)

Unfortunately, Kona isn't a great swimmer. She actually loathes the idea.

The choppy, frantic movements weren't pretty, yet they were still productive. I'll give her points for creativity.

Even I decided to go for a dip.

One of the many reasons why I love Utah.

What a trooper! Hiking and swimming on her first wilderness outing really wore her out.

See? Completely unaware of personal space.

This picture really says it all. (Thanks to Bubba for photographing)

Corbin later said to me, "Well, that is the second funnest thing I've done this summer."

He doesn't know this, but I have now made it a personal goal to be the initiator of the MOST FUN thing he does this summer. It's on, bro. Stay tuned...

Love it.

2010-07-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

HUGE fan of Pink. Always have been. Here lies my current pick:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3stsDXki__U

This transcends freedom of speech.

2010-07-13T17:59:00.000-07:00

This is deeply troubling that this is occurring in our own country after so many people have fought, worked, and died for EQUALITY in America. Are we perfect at it? NO. But the below media is regressing and criminal in every sense of the words.

Intro - Is he really stepping on the flag?

Black power

Exterminate white people?

Kill white babies

Get rid of police

Supporting Osama Bin Laden

YES, slavery was horrible and an abomination. YES, there is history of white privilege in this country. Those are statements I can agree with. I also advocate equal opportunity in its entirety... yet I feel as though the word "opportunity" in this country has become a replaced with notions of entitlement far too often. The above clips displaying the New Black Panther Party deeply disturb me.

When I was younger I was asked to write a report of my choice. At the time, I was intrigued by my Grandpa Burningham's military service during World War II. Seeking to learn more about him and to also find a topic for my paper, I began researching and asking questions like never before. I stumbled across this tiny piece of history that I had previously only vaguely heard about: The Holocaust. I remember going to the public library and reading book after book and being literally brought to tears by much of the literature. I constantly asked myself while reading the various stories, "How can people do this to each other?" Well, the theory is quite simple. We allow ourselves to objectify other human beings to justify our own agendas.

This can happen every day on a small scale. For example: I leave late for work. Driving the one lane road there, the car in front of me moves slowly. I become impatient and displace the anxiety of being late as anger towards this car. Moving slightly towards the lines of the lane, I check to see if anyone is coming the other direction. I quickly speed past the car in front of me, glare as I go by, and shake my head to let the driver know how displeased I am. Question: Did I view the driver as a person or as an adjunct to the car? Is it really the driver's fault I am late? (I recommend reading the Anatomy of Peace by the Arbinger Institute. It will change your perspective.)

Or, objectification can happen on a larger, more global scale:

Jean Kamanda: Leader of the Hutu tribe responsible for slaughtering an estimated 800,000 Tutsi people in Rwanda. Even more astonishing, this happened within a period of 100 days.

Pol Pot: Leader of the Cambodian genocide. It is estimated his regime mass murdered around 1.7 million people in his own country. (1975-1979)

Hideki Tojo: Japanese leader that ordered the extermination of 5 million civilians during World War II.

Saddam Hussein: 600,000 people in Iran and Kurdistan.

Jozef Stalin: USSR (1932-1939). Killed 23,000,000 people. Responsible for the purges and Ukraine's famine.

Adolf Hitler: 12,000,000. Concentration camps and civilians during World War II.

So how do these men gain power? Hitler was actually quite vocal about the steps that need to be taken to overthrow a government, gain enough support to start a world war, and to implement fear as means for manipulating others to attempt genocide.

“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it”

“How fortunate for leaders that men do not think.”

“All propaganda has to be popular and has to accommodate itself to the comprehension of the least intelligent of those whom it seeks to reach.”

“They refer to me as an uneducated barbarian. Yes, we are barbarians. We want to be barbarians, it is an honored title to us. We shall rejuvenate the world. This world is near its end.”

Now, going back to the original clips I provided... I want to ask a very simple question that I have contemplated greatly today. Is America too great, educated, safe, sophisticated, advanced, aware, and too kind to allow such an atrocity to happen in our own country? I'm not implying that the Black Panther Party will evolve into an initiator of genocide, but praising Osama Bin Laden for terrorizing the government under George Bush, calling for the killing of cops and white babies, patrolling polling booths with batons on election day sends the exact same message that the above mentioned extremists sent to their supporters: KILLING INNOCENT PEOPLE IS NOT ONLY ACCEPTABLE, IT IS NECESSARY.

The leaders of most of the 20th century genocides were highly educated and intelligent. They exercised their knowledge for coercion, manipulation, and the gaining of support. Pulled from the official website of the New Black Panther Party, here are the credentials for the chairman of the party, Dr. Malik Shabazz.

"Malik Zulu Shabazz graduated from Howard University and Howard University School of Law. While in Law School he founded and led the Progressive Student Movement/Unity Nation, a Black Nationalist student organization closely affiliated with the Nation of Islam leadership. What makes Dr. Malik Zulu Shabazz unique and effective today is the depth of his knowledge, professional organizing skills, potent legal advocacy, and dynamic speaking skills." New Black Panther Party

Sound familiar?

“What is evil? Killing is evil, lying is evil, slandering is evil, abuse is evil, gossip is evil: envy is evil, hatred is evil, to cling to false doctrine is evil; all these things are evil. And what is the root of evil? Desire is the root of evil, illusion is the root of evil.” -Gautama Siddharta (founder of Buddhism)

People like Malik Shabazz belong in prison. His potential to harm his fellow citizens, in any way, needs to be non-existent.

The correlation between exercise and optimism

2010-07-04T00:45:00.000-07:00

Since I graduated from college this last April, my mood has been in a downward spiral. I felt out of my comfort level emotionally and this led to many physical changes as well. I started eating more and gaining weight which I contribute to an increase in my anxiety and stress level. Consequently, because I was unhealthy, I adorned myself in the nicest basketball attire I owned and went about life very comatose, as if I not only had walked out of my element but as though I had completely forgotten what it is. I became a menace to not only myself, but those around me. When I walked in public settings, mothers would usher their children out of my way and avoid eye contact... I would have said something, but then again, I didn't seem to care about much.
Finally I had an epiphany. I wasn't happy! Wow, really? It took months of overeating and endless arguments with loved ones about my current state before I came to that simple conclusion? It is amazing how capable the human mind is of shadowing the simplest truths we have about ourselves. So, I made a job change, set a few new goals, and relaxed a little. A few of these goals include exercising and eating healthier, two habits that used to be second nature in my life and that I have fallen away from when someone with a whistle wasn't timing how quickly I could touch lines.
Folks, miracles happen. This past week I have been a new Kayla. Monday, the first day of my exercise routine, I decided to run five miles. Now, I had never ran five consecutive miles before in my life, my athletic career was about weights and sprints. In fact, the highest number of consecutive miles I had ever ran before was the measly number two. Thanks to Eminem, I wasn't afraid, and I took a deep breath, touched my toes once or twice, and hopped aboard the treadmill for a fitness test. At about mile three I noticed those next to me giving me that "I hope she's ok" or "please breathe softer so I can hear through my headphones, too" glances but I kept pushing along, side-ache and all.
I finished those five miles and I was sore for the rest of the week, but I felt an immediate change in my mood. I became highly motivated and therefore I was more efficient. I had a very accomplished week; got hired at a new job, read an entire book discussing the philosophy of Martin Heidegger, ate healthy, and finished the week by running a total of twenty miles. Despite all that, the most valuable change I noticed was rooted in the way I was treating others and the newfound patience I received. It is appropriate and necessary that I voice to the American population, working out and eating right really works! It's not a myth! I feel as though the First Lady should hire me for her new weight loss slogans.
In the past I used to criticize and belittle the idea of long distance running and those who participated in such an activity. Today I actually spoke the words, "I want to run a half marathon in the fall and a full marathon next summer." I may be going insane, but at least now I'm happy getting there.

Simplicity

2010-06-28T13:06:00.000-07:00

If I had life my way it would be played out in a scene including a vintage, refurnished coffeehouse, a great book, snow falling gently outside the window, my phone vibrant with incoming texts from loved ones, some soft jazz playing in the background, my mp3 player peeking at me from a backpack, and me, keeping warm from a frosty eve wearing my favorite sweater and taking periodic sips from a mug containing the finest hot cocoa around... *takes a moment to sigh*

But it's summer... which receives a different attitude from me than does the months of changing leaves and snowy mountainsides. I mean, what isn't enticing about a nose that has burnt and peeled three times already? Right? Sorry to be cynical about the warm months, I know they are a favorite to many, yet there seems to be a reoccurring pattern between "everyday chaos in Kayla's life" and months that include tanning oil, snow cones, and a late setting sun. I am busy in ways that are structured by me, and I'm not sure I know how to tackle such a task just yet.

Every summer after I have graduated high school has held a considerable amount of anxiety and stress. Presently, as a college grad, I have yet to place my finger on just why exactly. Each summer has been vastly different in comparison and has opened doors to many great opportunities. It just seems as though I get focused on accomplishing too much and, in turn, I do very little (cue stress and depression). Perhaps learning some methods in the art of simplifying would help. I'll save my thoughts regarding these issues at a later time. For now though, I offer a "simple" quote:

“[To simplify] is very nearly the whole of the higher artistic process; finding what conventions of form and what detail one can do without -- and yet preserve the spirit of the whole."
Willa Sibert Cather I can agree with that. Now, where to exercise the scissors first?

Nothing A Little Dirt Can't Fix

2010-04-24T00:16:00.000-07:00

My life is about to drastically change... and I couldn't be happier or more excited about it.

After a few emails, a long wait, a gruesome tryout, an in-person interview, and a lot of hope and optimism, I have been hired as a guide for the girl's group at Aspiro Wildernerss and Adventure Therapy for Troubled Teens. For the whole month of May I will be in various locations across the state of Utah doing training before I begin working with teenage girls throughout this summer. Starting in June, my schedule will require me to be away for 8 days at a time with 6 days in between shifts. There was a fear I had when basketball ended that I would have no structure, a job with no meaning behind it, and little purpose or direction in regards to my future... I can now officially say those worries are over and I am no longer apprehensive. I feel very blessed and privileged to have such an opportunity and am excited to begin the next adventure in my life.

The owner of Aspiro is a long time friend of my head basketball coach at UVU. For our pre-season team retreat he took us to Moab and tested our leadership and efficacy abilities with activities such as mountain biking, repelling, and long hikes with team bonding emphasized in each course. I remember the first day we hiked a few miles to a huge arch. He informed us that we would each be repelling off of the 165 ft. natural McDonald's sign at sundown, and to hurry before we had to perform such a task at nightfall. As it was my turn, the sun was just setting and I had a rather spiritual experience that confirmed my notion that working for this company is something I would love to do, and that I desperately needed. I asked him about being hired the following day and he told me to go through the necessary process of getting hired as soon as the season was over. For the next 6 months, the dream of working at Aspiro was never far from my mind. I'm grateful to have been given this opportunity.

I am graduating with a B.S. in Psychology next week. There are many sayings centered around the idea that all psych majors are the people looking to find themselves. Well, I will proudly state that I am one of those souls. My classes and education were very therapeutic for me. A few years ago I was going through a very troubling time. I didn't know who I was or who I even wanted to be. I had a very flighty identity that was conflicted, bruised, and angry. Like an answer to a prayer, and it was nothing less, I was introduced to one of the greatest people I have ever been privileged to meet. By consistently meeting with her and working with her I realized that I wanted to use the experiences in my life as an outlet for relating and empathizing with others to assist them in improving their lives. She, along with many others who I am eternally indebted to, have taken the time to love me, support me, and remind me of the person I can become at times when I forget. I want to return the favor... and Aspiro is giving me that chance.

This job is going to stretch me thin and expose many weaknesses, and even strengths, that I never knew I had. As a person I will grow, and I humbly realize that I'm not going to be the one doing all the teaching on our weekly adventures. These girls, and I don't even know them yet, are going to change my life and become examples I reflect on throughout the rest of my life. It's a journey we will travel together. Aspiro has this quote: "I will not see through them. Instead, I will see them through." These girls come from situations in which they have come to believe they are inadequate and hopeless. I cannot wait to be there when they learn to trust again, to make and reach goals, and to love themselves. Observing them as they come to believe in themselves once more will bring a sense of satisfaction that I will be unable to find anywhere else. Life is a series of opportunities waiting to be seized, and I am anxious to see the fire light in their eyes.

German cars

2010-03-17T04:18:00.000-07:00

I'm going to skip the surprise ending and begin with the moral of the story. Never buy a German car.

I am the driver of a BMW 330i. *pauses a moment to let the sink in* Now since you've all stereotyped me, come visit me at Outback and let me serve you a steak. Please tip well, food is important to me too.

My dad bought me the car a few years ago when I moved home from Hawaii. I was ecstatic until he decided to sign the title over to me and make it my responsibility. The Beamer and I have had some rough patches in our relationship, some very costly ones. We argue indefinitely and I find it to be very stubborn and ignorant. I don't know how to tell it this, but it's letting itself go.

I have already replaced the transmission ($5,000), the driver's side automatic window ($400), the radiator ($800), the radiator hose ($200), and various fuses ($?). Currently, my baby found a new way to annoy me.

My blinkers sound like a sprinkler having a seizure. Not only do they sound bad, I notice when I drive by people stare at my lights and reflect back to times in junior high at the school dance when strobe lights were cool. Safe to say, the car and I are fighting. It's winning.

Next week, when I get home from Spring Break, I get to add "Replace blinker box" on my list of reasons why to never buy a car with Nazi roots. Till then, it can sit and think about what it has done. Without covered parking.

And although Germans don't make the best cars, their banned commercials are hilarious. Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s01Oy3YnHkM#watch-main-area

A tribute

2010-03-17T02:27:00.000-07:00

Honestly, this blog is long overdue. And by long I mean 3 days.

My life as a collegiate athlete is officially over. I was recognized at senior night, we won the Great West Conference title, and I'm graduating in April (assuming I pass all my classes). For the past 4 years, this moment has been constantly on my mind... and it still managed to sneak up on me.

First let me explain what I've done with my new freedom so far now that I don't have to set apart time in the afternoons for long practices, weights, study hall, or weeks of traveling the nation for road games.

Monday
I thought long and hard about catching up on hw...
Then I took a nap...
Followed by unnecessary time on facebook.
Then I went to work at Outback (my attempt at being mature and productive).
While I was there I thought hard about doing hw when I got home...
Became motivated...
Got home...
Found my computer....
Sat on facebook...
Slept.

Tuesday
Went to class (it was cancelled... I love when professors value my tuition).
Found a couch...
Slept till my next class...
Took quiz.
Made mental goal to work on my psychopharmacology paper...
Hung out with my grandpa all afternoon instead...
Visited my cousins...
Spent an annoying amount of time searching for my car keys...
Went to the gym (stopped when I was tired... New freedom).
Talked to my friend in Australia...
Talked to my friend in Florida...
Here.

As you can see, I really got my homework done. I did, however, catch up on some sleep and my social life. Time and freedom make a potent team. Yet there are aspects of my former life I already miss.

There is no substitute for the involvement on an athletic team. If I gave every detail about how much teamwork, dedication to a sport, simultaneously making individual and collective goals, and hard work have ultimately impacted my life, this blog would be a book. Even still, I find it imperative that I share some of my emotions about the newfound change in my life, and the things I know I'll miss about competitive basketball.

I'm going to miss what it feels like to meet in a locker room each day, debate over how long we each think practice will be, and together dread the next few hours ahead while still knowing there is nowhere else we'd rather be. Along with this are the times I'll miss after a long, hard practice when we again go to the locker room, discuss practice, share some laughs, and throw our dirty laundry in bin before bidding each other goodnight and meeting to repeat the process again the next day. Although we complained about the routine, I'll miss that consistency.

There are those times in the locker room before a game. I never took the act of putting on a jersey for granted. That jersey symbolizes the accomplishments of my present and the past that included many dreams, sweat, and tears that got me to that moment. Standing in a line listening to the national anthem with one hand on my heart and the other on my teammate in front of me really illustrated the term "united" in a rare and powerful way. And stepping out on to the floor, well, those feelings can't be described. It's a unique mix of pride, anticipation, and humility.

In all honesty, as I'm trying to decide what aspects of basketball has meant the most to me, it all comes down to relationships and unity. Many would argue and say that it's about being competitive, the feeling after hitting a game winning shot, the long hours in the gym hoping for a chance, receiving that chance, maximizing the potential of any given opportunity, winning titles, being given awards... etc. And guess what? I have experienced ALL of those moments more than once. But as I'm sitting here trying to give this game a tribute, a game that has served as a part if not a lot of my identity the past 16 years I've been playing it, those aspects are the farthest from my mind. My thoughts keep wandering off to the concept of relationships and to all of the people I have met on the various teams and in the many places the athletic world has taken me.

Before we ever made our HS teams or were recruited to play in college, we had individual goals and dreams. We all worked very hard to achieve them as well. Yet when a person is thrown onto a team and placed among strangers with a common cause, the reaction is powerful. Those individual goals still reside but are shadowed by collective goals and for the betterment of a team. It is no longer about what we can do for ourselves... but rather what we can do for each other so everyone succeeds. No one accomplishes anything without the help and support of the collective whole. There becomes a deeper and more widespread purpose to our efforts. When days are hard and the motivation within ourselves is lacking and we don't want to attend practice there is that little voice in the back of our heads that whispers, "You can't let your teammates down." The team and its members become the motivation, the focus, and the goal. It's a phenomenon I'm glad to have been involved in on numerous teams with literally hundreds of different teammates. Because of this unity, I cherish the way basketball has been subtle in teaching me about honor, loyalty, and respect.

Many people have commented to me that "teammates are like automatic friends". It's true... we are forced to spend every day with one another and to at least on paper support each other. My coaches and teammates at UVU, BYUH, Lehi High, and all of my club teams however, became my family. Nothing less. Times have not been easy on any team I was involved with and I was truly blessed to be surrounded by people who had great perspectives and never gave up on themselves or, more importantly, each other. On every single one of these teams, we found a way to prevail through adversity and conquer obstacles while defying odds. I can't think of any lesson more crucial or pertinent to the greatest game of all: Life.

I'm taken aback by the strength and good character people I've met through athletics have displayed. I became a better person because I met all of you. Thank you for your inspiration. I'll carry it with me always.

Ranting...

2010-02-23T22:31:00.000-08:00

I am sorry for the recent neglect. You see, school and basketball make an evil team with an uncanny ability to swallow me whole and selfishly withhold me from a social life, sleep, and extracurricular writing. Recently I have picked up various projects with UVU professors. I am helping the dean conduct a study on learning and memory, which can ultimately only benefit me since my memory is horrendous. Hopefully the APA (American Psychological Association) accepts our study so I can travel to Vancouver, Canada in November and present our findings. In addition, I am helping my mentor and former Counseling and Psychotherapy professor critique the works of Baktin and Marion as we develop a theory of "enfleshment" and "embodiment" and their part in clinical psychology concerning the therapist and client relationship. It sounds a bit absurd, I know, but trust me... It is full of romantic and intimate theories and terminology that are often forgotten in the psych field and replaced with genetics, atheism, and cocaine addicts who believe all men want to kill their father so they can be with their mother (Freud). Honestly, this piece I'm working on right now reminds me that humans have experiences, feelings, and choice. It has been refreshing. Thanks to the writings of free-thinking Europeans, I have regained hope in human nature.

For example, take the concept of love. Psychologists and scientists rarely touch on this subject when publishing articles or trying to explain human thought processes. Why? It can't be proven by science! As for me, I think in opposition to empirical science and the realm of proving men to be robotic, rigid, and predictive creatures. We are a relational species from the moment our fetus begins growing in our mother's womb, and we enter into the world needing others to survive. We need care, touch, attention. We need love. Love is not a societal or a cultural topic, it is a universal emotion that each person feels or somewhat understands to some degree, even if they cannot explain it. As a therapist, how can one help another without understanding or being able to relate to the most fundamental emotion a person is capable of feeling? A client must feel sympathy, and oftentimes empathy, from a therapist to build trust within the therapeutic process. Trust is embedded in love. It is disheartening that a majority of scholarly writers, professors, scientists, and psychologists are human but choose to ignore the basic emotions on which humanity are built because they are "difficult to explain or prove". In my mind, there can be no concrete explanation to the most complex species walking the earth. The scientific mindset is slowly becoming the downfall to the academic world. It serves its time and place, but science cannot explain everything. Once scientists discover genes or DNA strands that determine one's capacity for everything abstract, intimate, and experientially founded, I will swallow this post and choke on it. As for now, I will continue to focus on what I feel matters most and is relevant in the field of psychology. These include, but are not limited to, human emotions based in experiences and choices made throughout the course of one's life.

We are not a species that can be defined in a textbook. The human race is a complex, situational, relational, and agentic people that change, adapt, and continually surprise one another.

Welcome to my psychological little world. Oh the joys of a studying shrink.

Why I love Canada

2010-02-15T12:44:00.000-08:00

I have mentioned Chantelle before in a recent blog. You may remember her as the girl whose "eyes popped out as she got shut in a subway door". Once again, she is the main character in a funny story. It's quite ironic because when she first arrived here from the land of maple leaves, we seriously wondered if she knew how to speak. And if she did, why did she hate us? She was notorious for observing the rest of us in a room and when she would let out a sound, a laugh or even a breath, we would stop, jerk our heads around to face her, and become silent. "Chan made a sound! She breathed! Everyone, quiet!" Nothing followed, of course, and then she was off to her room at a reasonable time of 9pm. Since I was the stereotypical college freshman, living off of no sleep and skipping class regularly, I came to the realization that she was, in fact, abnormal. Now, weird behavior intrigues me. The more Chan didn't talk, the more I showed up in her bedroom while she was trying to do homework and asked her deep questions about life and her future goals. She would stare at me blankly and give me a laugh that said, "Get out of my room or I'm calling the cops." Fair enough, oh perfect one. Backing out of her room and away from her divine presence, I seriously wondered if I should bow as well. So, Chan was designated as a silent mystery, and I considered her my first failure as a studying psychologist.

Since the beginning of her first semester here, Chan has finally opened up and let her personality shine through. EVERYTHING she says is hilarious and we love having her around. So it is very understandable that when we were all in the pool, we felt like Chan should join us. It just didn't feel right without her. Chantelle Martin incident #2:

In Texas last weekend, some of us were playing "kindergarten" and enjoying ourselves in the pool after our game. This included running around in a big circle to create a whirlpool, splashing each other in the face, watching Cydne superman jump it into the pool on a full stomach, and the occasional "grab someone's head and shove it in the water" maneuver. There was only one person who had yet to join us... our dear little Canadian, Chan. I never turn down an opportunity to sabotage an unsuspecting person, so I whispered to the others, "Hey, let's get Chan."

Chan was sitting in the corner of the room in a pool chair laughing at us and being comfortably dry. As she noticed six figures slowly making their way towards her with evil grins on their faces, her face quickly became one of alarm and distress. She darted towards the door, but we caught her. She screeched, and we laughed. She told us to stop, and we laughed harder. Her reactions to our attack were, without fail, priceless.

First, she stuck her phone in her pocket and said, "Stop you guys, I have my phone!" As if this was going to stop any of us. A few of us proceeded to rip her phone out of her hands.

Panicking, she zipped up her travel jacket and yelled, "You can't throw me in! I have to wear this tomorrow on the plane!!" This was true and pulling the 'if you do this to me Coach will be mad at you' card did stop us for a brief moment. I mean, it was zipped up all the way to her chin. I almost considered letting her go... until I heard JJ from the pool... "TAKE OFF HER CLOTHES!!!"

Chantelle, realizing there was no point in fighting anymore, reluctantly began unzipping her jacket as we continued to yank her towards the pool. Releasing one last futile effort, she whimpered, "You guys, no. Please stop, I'm cold." It almost broke my heart, until it didn't. Goodbye, Chan.

Fast forward to twenty minutes past that incident, you would have seen Chan having swim races in the pool and challenging the rest of us to sideways dive better than her. She was a human fish and entertained us the rest of the evening. It seems that all she needed was, in its most literal form, a little push.

Prepare, or be preyed upon

2010-02-11T21:14:00.000-08:00

Tonight I have been thinking heavily about my future. My plans for next year, where I want to apply for graduate school, so forth and so on. This has led to me to extensive thoughts about choices and behaviors, and how time respects neither concept.

Metaphorically, the future is predatory. It waits patiently in a secret place, licking its paws, and bathing in the noonday sun. It realizes that it is always annoyed by the frailty of peaceful moments, as its tranquility is broken with a distant, distinct, and familiar noise. Someone is coming, as they always do, but who now? What will their story read this time? Listening, its head cocked to the side, it gazes lazily for the object behind the noise to appear. Eventually, it sees a person enter its territory, and it perks up and studies this individual from a distance, curious to see what this wandering being will do next. Which direction will the person take? Where did he come from? Why is he here? More importantly, how well is the traveler prepared? Rarely do these kind come equipped for this terrain, thinks the predator. It is amazed how blindly humans walk at times; how easily they allow themselves to follow their own arrogance. They stumble, but do not learn to sidestep the stone. Their fragile skin reddens under the rays of the scorching sun, yet they apply no protection for the burns. They thirst, but their canteen is empty long before the journey is over. Even more astonishing, is how seldom it is that this race stops to take a moment and discern their surroundings. If they did, thought the beast, its role in each of their lives would be vastly different.

The beast watches a moment longer, immersed in the perceptive thoughts it just had, before it blinks itself away from the depths of its mind, and contemplates its next move. It calculates the appearance of the person before it, as if sizing him up, and strategizes its attack. Rising from the natural bed beneath it, the beast ventures slowly, steadily, and hungrily towards its prey. As it closes the ground between itself and the meandering human, the startled person glances upward, and is immediately terrified to see its fate glaring back at him. Grinning and swishing its tail, the beast takes a moment to examine the panic and alarm the delicate being displays before it. It breathes deeply, as if taking it all in.

These people are perplexing, and the beast has always thought so. They speak endlessly of individual control and agency, and yes, they will fight and even kill one another for both rights. Yet in the moments where their preemptive thinking is needed most, where forethought would play as an irreplaceable asset to their choices, it is absent and unused. As the beast readies itself for its final pounce, it reflects on how they never have a plan. It is quite scarce to find a human prepared. But the future is fiercely loyal when it finds one that is, and is the first to offer that individual everlasting respect and admiration throughout the rest of his or her excursion. Unfortunately for the wide-eyed and trembling man before it, this is not the case today. Releasing a deep-throated snarl, future meets its prey and swallows him whole. It leaves nothing left of him to experience, enjoy, or bask in the days ahead; the days that were his.

I hope to never meet my future with such surprise.

My husband list.

2010-02-10T22:31:00.000-08:00

I will settle for, but not my limit myself to, the following men (I pronounced "men" in my head with a slight growl):

1. Michael Buble

2. Robin Thicke

3. Rocky Votolato

4. John Mayer

5. James Morrison

And if morbidity is allowed, Frank Sinatra will do too. Elvis, you can stay put.

For those who don't know, I have a deep passion for music. I'll let the artists do the speaking tonight. Humor me and check these videos out. You won't be disappointed. I must say, though, there are reasons why I prefer to be their wife instead of their fan. Ladies, proceed with caution.

Meet Michael. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPUJIbXN0WY&feature=channel

Mr. Thicke's last album was titled "Sex Therapy". FYI. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTv_C4bBWVo

Oh hey, Rocky. This is one of my favorite songs ever. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39BEbvojLQs&feature=PlayList&p=6CC20A404A7120EE&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=8

Johnny boy. Saw him live in SLC once. I fell in love. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32GZ3suxRn4

First heard James sitting in Barnes and Noble writing a paper. I had to ask an employee to check their music player and tell me who it was. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRxccy-zcJ8

Whoever decided it was a good idea to invent music, I praise you. So does iTunes. My bank account, however, would be pleased if you had decided to permanently reside in your mother's womb.

Confidentiality died... and then I went to class.

2010-02-08T23:40:00.000-08:00

Diving too far into thoughts and experiences can provoke insanity, Professor. Not cure it.

I want you to think back to every psych stereotype you can think of. Go ahead... the big couches, the watermark drawings, the shrink with the glasses chained to her head, and the famous question, "How does that make you feel?" Then picture me laying on a big couch, feet crossed and propped up on the opposite arm, and hyperventilating. Let me tell you how I began my morning.

To those who don't know, I am a psychology major. This demands that I am open in my classes, talk about a lot of feelings, and overanalyze things to the point of no return. So it shouldn't be a surprise that I was ecstatic to share the story of my first menstrual cycle in front of thirty of my peers and my bearded professor. Wait... huh?

The class: Adolescent Development

Topic: Puberty

Question: Do you remember your first menstrual cycle or ejaculation?

Assignment: Go down the rows and publicly announce your coming of age story. Ladies first. (No offense, Professor, but this is no time for chivalry)

My first thought was, "Get real, old man. You can get sued for this." Followed by, "Just say no..." And then, "Oh please, start on the other side of the room!" Panic was beginning to set in.

And of course, he started on my side of the room.

Alright Santa Claus (he literally looks like he would fall down your chimney and eat all your cookies), you wanna play by those rules? Fine. But if they don't share *stares at the few girls ahead of me in the row* I don't either. Pleased with my confidence that someone would back out before it was my turn, I quickly relaxed. And the exercise began.... The first girl shared. I listened. Next girl? Stuttered, but shared. The girl in front of me? Not only shared, but elaborated. Ironically, the girls who sit in front of me are moms. There isn't much they haven't shared. (I attempted to explain my unhealthy relationship with luck in my last post) All eyes on me. My thoughts? One word. "Hell."

30 seconds later it was over and I was miraculously still alive. It would take a minute longer for my red face to return back to its usual pale. (For those of you who are terrified to read on, breathe. I'm done embarrassing myself for the day)

After EVERY girl explained where they were, who they told, and what their mom said the day we became women, it was the guy's turn. Now, I could have gone my WHOLE life without hearing any of that and been a better person. I sat there wide-eyed and jaw-dropped the whole time thinking, "Did he really just say that? Was that necessary?! I will never date you or look at you the same way again." I watched the clock intently... Save me, please.

And when this group therapy of unattractive experiences and coming of age was finally over, I felt grateful. Thank you awkward psych class and strange professor, you officially woke me up.

I hate luck

2010-02-04T23:12:00.000-08:00

My epitaph will read, "Here lies Kay. She had the worst luck ever."

Some people believe in luck. My life humors the concept. In fact, I have been told by several people that no one they know has luck quite like mine, and by that they meant I have none. Luck only exists in my life to use me as an outlet to bless the lives of others. There are many people that have experienced "luckiness" due to the fact I breathe. You know you've met one of these fortunate individuals if they have ever made comments similar to these:

"Dude, I ran right into her car. T-Boned. Crushed her whole passenger side. But no witnesses stopped and the cameras in the intersection just happened to not be working that day. I didn't receive fault. Lucky!"

"I was only planning on stealing her phone, but in the same pocket I found her iTouch, too. I'll have pot for weeks! Could I be any luckier?

"My semi couldn't turn that sharply. My trailer was on top of her car! Like really man, I looked in mirror and I was literally on top of this girl's car. I didn't even see her! Luckily no one could track me down after that or I would have been fired."

Yes, in one month I was involved in my 8th and 9th car accident. I also had $600 dollars worth of electronics stolen from me. I realize that life could be worse... I could be walking somewhere and suddenly blow up. I don't know if that's even possible, but if it was, it would happen to me. And I would survive.... with no limbs. Then the nurse would drop me on my head as she attempted to sponge bathe me and I would immediately lose ability to speak. I'll mumble for the rest of my life. If I die looking like Mr. Potato Head, please, just close the casket.

Ever read the book called The Secret? After I read that, I tried to focus on the positive and the exact opposite happened. So then I tried thinking of every bad thing that could possibly come about and desperately tried to prevent it. Thoughts such as this occurred: "I really need to stop texting and driving so I can focus on being a better defensive driver." Soon after my car was hit in the snow. Then my phone was stolen.

My conclusion? I am scared to say in fear of what will happen next. All I know is, luck plays into my life like the school bully who steals lunch money and then leaves the victim with a wedgie. I need to catch a break.

What a beach taught me...

2010-02-01T19:50:00.000-08:00

Today I miss Sunset Beach.

When I lived in Hawaii, this was the place that saved me. There were so many times that first year away from home that I felt very much alone, depressed, misunderstood, and frustrated. When difficult days occurred, I would jump behind the wheel of Jose (my rusty, purple, 2001 Dodge Stratus) and just drive. I always found myself sitting in the sand at my favorite beach on North Shore. While I was there, I noticed that I was breathing deeper, thinking differently, and praying harder. It was a place of liberation and security where I literally felt my problems being destroyed and lost in the rotation of the waves. As the sun began to disappear over the horizon, I felt my pain being lifted from me and taken with it. There was a healing power that beach possessed, and it consistently exercised its supernatural abilities over my soul in a beautiful way.

My experiences at Sunset Beach have instilled a belief within me that God has created natural beauty around us as a means of therapy. Lately I find myself desperately wanting that familiar place, one where I can sift sand through my fingers and allow the warm colors of the sunset to swallow me whole, granting me comfort and peace. A place where the ocean whispers words of encouragement and strengthens me to endure another day. Honestly, when life became unbearably dark, this place was my reminder that there is still beauty in this world. It literally kept me alive.

I have been having parallel emotions to the ones that first led me to Sunset Beach, perhaps even stronger. Life has in no way been easy these past few months and giving up has never sounded so appealing. Today I caught myself looking at an enlarged picture of this particular beach that I took one day after practice when I lived there. It currently hangs over my desk in my room. Initially, I hung it there so that when homework became stressful I could look up and refresh my thought patterns. It now serves a familiar purpose. This picture reminds me of a time where my endurance was tested and I didn't give up. It asks me to remember similar situations where my character was challenged and I overcame difficult trials placed before me.

I want to play "Amber" by 311 in the stereo of my car and head for my favorite thinking place. I wish I could sit under that familiar palm tree and watch the surfers come in from a long day. It would be so nice to take off my Rainbow slippers and feel the sand in between my toes while listening to the crash of the waves against the shore. I yearn to feel the warmth of the Hawaiian rays on my bare skin as I wait for their source to disappear into the coming night. I can't physically be experiencing any of that right now. Instead of sorting through my emotions at a beach and have such a beautiful environment heal my wounded soul, I can bask in the memories and ask them to make me whole. I can remember that I am strong. And I can thank Sunset Beach for giving me the opportunity to learn I am nothing less. Tomorrow is a new day.

If you saw us in NYC and stared, we loved the attention.

2010-01-31T20:22:00.000-08:00

Every once in awhile I need a night that says, "Be a person." Not a responsible, well-educated, and proper individual with goals in mind and constant purpose, but a loud and obnoxious human being that finds my Right to Laugh and abuses it with such vigor my lungs punch out my ribcage and scream, "All of public hates you right now and so do we. Give. Us. Air." It feels ironic to know that having an occasional dose of insanity actually keeps us sane. To the child in all of us, I salute you.

My recent night of extraordinary events began this weekend as my team was in Newark, New Jersey. After our game, the details of which I purposely choose to withhold, we were given a choice: Take the train into NYC and play tourists for the eve, or, dwell in thoughts of missed shots and unlucky scoreboard numbers and go back to the hotel. Hmmmm.... Is this a trick question? We glanced awkardly at each other. Even though all of us at the time were "that girl", you know, the one that already had clothes packed to freeze in famous NYC air while strolling 42nd street, we understand quite well expressing such excitement after a loss won't earn us brownie points. So we all stared at the ground, circled our feet, and hoped that someone would say, "NYC BABY!!!" and get us out of that sorry mistake for a locker room. Eventually we were in our vans headed for the NJ transit.

Just some background, our team consists of Canadians, a Boise native, Utah homegrowns, a Washington freshman, an Asian, and a girl from a town named Crocker, Missouri. Give or take a few, most of us haven't entered a Subway unless it was to get a footlong. Our Empire State of mind started and ended in a Jay-Z song. The only city guru, Brynn, aka Brown Bear, the girl that says "sprung" instead of "twitterpated", had to stay home due to a knee injury. Let the adventures begin.

Lesson number one: Subway doors can kill you. We were in Times Square with plans to catch the next ride to Penn Station. Chantelle, a Canadian, wasn't keeping pace. As she realized she may get stranded in the busiest section of NYC by herself, survival of the fittest took over. She became an animal and threw the man to her right aside and managed to squeak her arm in the door before it shut. Unlike friendly elevator doors that sense when limbs are present, these are ravenous monsters and would gladly hold her in their grasp and then throw her into the nearest concrete wall if given the chance. I watched as these doors slammed Chantelle so hard from both sides that her shoulders touched her ears. I think her eyes even popped out a little... I'm not sure. But her face, oh that face, was Mastercard priceless. And although Chan ridiculed me later for laughing hysterically instead of helping her fend off the Subway doors of Satan, me being the closest to the incident, you would have done the same. It was hilarious and we all enjoyed a good laugh. The man she physically separated from his friend and glared as she squirmed her way onto his ride, on the other hand, may be facebook stalking her right now awaiting revenge. No pressure, Chan.

Lesson number two: Chocolate samples from Max Brenner will solve world hunger. Look, I am very impatient and I hate waiting to be sat at restaurants. It really screws with my plan to try out for The Biggest Loser. Therefore, when I saw the mass of people huddled in the restuarant lobby separating me from a portion of medium rare moo meat, I quickly complained. It sounded something like this: "Nooo.... I'm STARVING. Don't you understand?! I'm a college athlete! I don't just burn calories, Coach, I aerial bomb them... twice! You haven't fed us since breakfast! My stomach hates you! I hate you! AGHHH!!!" The complaints went on and on.... But then, I saw her. Practically glowing, a girl carrying a glass jar full of dark, chunky substance was visible across the room. Can it be? It is! Chocolate! (Fitting, since this restaurant is known for its desserts and novelties involving the best creation extracted from cocoa beans). After pushing the nicely dressed people trying to impress their dates aside, forcing a smile, receiving treasure, and muttering "thanks, its good" which sounded more like "shanks, if groob" to the frightened worker that noticed ten more hungry souls dressed like me marching towards her, I was saved. We ate our way through about $40 of the finest, authentic chocolate samples known to mankind before we were sat. Each. And we don't even feel bad.

Knowing that NYC is the largest city in the United States would lead someone to conclude that it is, in fact, crowded. It is full of angry taxi drivers, Michael Jackson impersonators, a few million people, and well, as Erika quickly found out, signs. Headed for the train home, dear Erika aka Foreplay (ya, there is a story behind it) was in awe over all she had seen, heard, and experienced. My location for this tale was towards the front of our group. We were trying to find the right track home when we heard it. A loud clamor and then an orchestra of laughter. Erika had walked into a sign and straddled it like, well, as a creative assignment I'll let you fill in the blank. Most of us didn't even witness this incident firsthand, and we didn't necessarily need to. The few hundred people behind her that saw her bear hug the ONLY sign around had "nice work" written all over their faces. Lesson number three? Skyscrapers aren't the only lifeless forms standing tall in the big city.

It would take far too long to give background on all the inside jokes, go into description about the dirty looks residents gave us, or even explain how happy it made us to be enjoying those moments with each other. I'm quite sure they will all agree that night was needed and appreciated. A New York trip is in the works my friends. Anyone want to go see Wicked on Broadway? I'm your date. Let's go. And during intermission I'll tell you about these people I went to the city with once. They helped me feel joy. To the memories, girls. NYC 2010.

De"grade" school and learning to love it

2010-01-24T05:20:00.000-08:00

The other night my friend and I were discussing how there isn't an excess of time anymore. It seems that every year life gets more and more stressful. This led to some envious reflection of my pre-teen self. That poofy-banged, buck-teeth packin', boy clothes wearin' blonde girl that used to complain about brushing her teeth and having a bed time didn't know how easy she had it. But back then, oh no, life seemed incredibly stressful! While reminiscing I managed to compile a list of "problems" I endured throughout elementary school. Luckily, I can't trace any side-effects resulting from these few random and embarrassing past experiences. This just goes to show that no matter what stage of life one is in, there will always be obstacles.

1. Boys were my only friends until 5th grade when the maturation talk raped my social life. Shortly after, one said to me, "We can't hang out with you anymore because you have sperm." Wrong.
2. Occasionally when I got home, the doors were locked. I was embarrassed to show my mom the wet spot on my jeans. "But mom, I couldn't hold it anymore!"
3. I got sent to the principal's office four separate times.
Case one: In 1st grade I told a girl I was going to blow her family up with a bazooka. I didn't even know what a bazooka was.
Case two: 4th grade. Some boys stole my basketball court so I grabbed their yellow kickballs, ran to the back fence of the playground, and kicked them into someone's backyard. The principal escorted me to retrieve them a few minutes later.
Case three: 3rd grade. Sat inbetween two boys. Had a crush on one. The other one always stabbed me with his pencil. He drew blood. I tattle-telled. The teacher moved me. I was beside myself and cut a girl's baggy shirt all the way up to her armpit during arts & crafts. She didn't notice. I got bored, tapped her on her shoulder, and while the scissors were laying on my desk said, "Hey, someone cut your shirt." I had to buy her a new one.
Case four: 6th grade. Dad always told me if I asked someone to stop three times and they didn't I could hit them. At the school bus stop a boy kept hitting me with his backpack. "Nick, please stop" times three. This led to him sprawled on the ground crying. I forgot my backpack was full of books.
4. Classic Skating was a big deal. If our mom's could take us, my friends and I tried to go every Friday night. During snowball, (when boys ask girls to skate around the rink holding hands) I always hid in the bathroom till it was over. Severe social anxiety.
5. In 3rd grade I crashed on my bike and ripped off the skin on half my face. I missed a week of school and had to go to the ER every 4 hours to get an i.v. to prevent infection. They told me I was going to have scars on the left side of my face for the rest of my life. When I finally went back to school, my teacher made fun of me in front of the class. No one laughed harder than "cut shirt girl".
6. I wore cowboy boots, quiksilver t-shirts, and jnco jeans every day. I cried if a shirt's sleeves went above my elbows. 'Nuff said.
7. The one day I was brave enough to play bloody mary, my "friends" locked me in the school bathroom with the lights off. I cried.
8. At the end of my state presentation, my teacher asked me to say one interesting fact about Michigan. "Um... It's where Madonna's from!" Class laughed. Teacher stared.
9. When I finally made some girl friends in 5th grade, I got asked to go trick-or-treating. They dressed cute. I was a Utah Jazz zombie. With thermals.
10. A rumor went around one day that I was a boy until I was 5. My playground activities and daily attire made this all very convincing. Unfortunately, that same day my overall straps fell in the toilet during lunch.

Yes, all true stories. Don't worry, things really went up for me from there! In junior high I got braces and I had to start doing my own hair. So I styled a slick-backed pony tail with no part and the infamous metal mouth for a few years. Awesome. I did, however, manage to "go out" with a Hispanic boy named Ariel who spoke broken English. When I wouldn't kiss him at the school dance he threatened to kill me. In high school, though, the tides changed and some social skills were born. I was able to hold a conversation, make eye contact, date, and drive (well, nine wrecks later the driving is still debatable). Hey, life is good.

Anyways, the point is that life is just plain awkward sometimes. Those days now seem like just yesterday and I hardly ever reflect on such experiences. It's amazing the type of stories one chooses to remember from childhood and the smiles they can bring when life really does get stressful. I made it through then and I'll find a way to make it through whatever else life places in front of me. Who knows, maybe a few of those times will make some great stories to tell the grandkids. Or all of blogger. Whichever comes first.

Finding Words

2009-12-31T00:50:00.000-08:00

Withering
stretching upward a final time
kept alive to silently die.
Watching
let the fragments freely fly
bravely kiss them goodbye.
Wishing
this lands in lost souls
under foundation froze.

Oh how life teaches
even the must stubborn student;
that broken things despite might
can refuse to be fixed right.
And in tangled decisions
as we dare life to prove it;
sacred chambers are moved away
carrying hearts with tired beats to lay.

Promising
to forget all the words said
and the body language read.
Crossing
into states of over this
open hands now clenched fists.
Forgetting
only what needs to escape
while sealing this terminal fate.

So now I ask of you
to give one last time;
Throw me the finest bone
from this corpse we own.
And with it I will pick from my teeth
all the words that were mine;
For love finally knows it's bounds
when it ceases taking rounds.

Top 5 List: Current Annoyances and Favorites

2009-12-30T01:09:00.000-08:00

I know I falsely proclaimed via facebook that I would give the update on my concussion and what not... But it stresses me out to think about... and according to the doctors I'm not supposed to think too hard. Let the jokes begin with that one... So instead I decided to list a few of my current favorite things and a few of my recent annoyances. Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Well, bad news it is.

ANNOYANCES
1. When people call Christmas "X-mas". Whether you believe in Christ or not, have some respect for the purpose of the holiday! It requires the same syllables to pronounce and is 4 characters longer to text, write, or type.
2. The way my cars ability to drive in the snow is slowly strangling the last breath out of my social life. Basketball was doing its own great job of doing that, it didn't need to give it a partner in crime. I'm currently accepting donations for the purchase of snow tires.
3. The current cat residing at my place of residence. My dear roommate, Asumi, is babysitting her friend's furry devil child for the time being. This brings a long list of annoyances....
-It jumps on the counter after it enjoys a nice biological break in its litter box.
-Scares the hell out of me when it sneaks up on me and rubs itself on my leg. Scat cat... Or next time you attempt jumping into the dryer with my laundry I will gladly let you stay there and enjoy the ride.
-How could I forgot the time it scurried from underneath my bed when I arrived home one day? (this was the first time the presence of this cat in our apartment was made known to me)
-It sucks at receiving social hints. When I am rude, it doesn't mean beg for more attention! Stay out of my room and away from my leg! I thought cats were supposed to be independent. Lies.
4. My 11 year-old brother consistently beats me, and by that I mean destroys my self-esteem and abstract power as the oldest sibling, in any game on Wii sports. No, he isn't a humble winner. And yes, we fight about it. Every time he hits a home run in baseball and prances around me as I stare dumbfounded at the screen I want to a) backhand him in the head and b) trip him. In that order.
5. *drum roll* Doctor appointments. I have literally seen about five separate doctors, taken multiple concussion exams, and have had an MRI and CAT scan in the past few weeks. I need that chip encoded with my medical history embedded in my arm because I am tired of filling out medical history sheets. We are a digital society! We don't even speak anymore... we text. Sex has turned into sexting and the internet (facebook, that whore) has slowly replaced the ability to plan time for hw and read a good book. It's time pens and paper at doctor's offices were abandoned in practice. Ha, I just sounded soooo lazy. Oh well, that's the only prescription I've been given anyways.

FAVORITES :P
1. I'm going to sound materialistic right now and it wouldn't be the first time. I am in love with my newly acquired iTouch. I am mesmerized by Apple's evolution from the circular wheel. I mean, I touch it and it does exactly what I want. I wish people were that way. Get on that, Steve Jobs.
2. Christmas Break. My sanity needed this time away from lectures, gruesome thought papers needing scholarly sources, methods of research, and well, going to class in general. The concussion didn't help my irritability during finals week, either. I mean, it's normal to think suicidal thoughts during such stress. But when I found out expressive anger is a symptom of post-concussion syndrome I thought to myself, "Oh, that's why I wanted to sharpen my pencil and aim it at his throat mid-review." So ya, the time away has been safe in all aspects.
3. My heating blanket! Blankie and I have have now spent a few intimate nights together and so far the beautiful thing hasn't left me unsatisfied yet. Cause, effect, and solution. Cause: inadequate funds to support a large utility bill throughout the frigid, Utah winter. Effect: I slept with 4 blankets, sweat pants, and a long-sleeved shirt. Getting out of bed in the morning was torture and my nose was usually red from exposure. Solution: "Hey Mom, look at that awesome heating blanket they have on sale here. If you want to see your eldest child alive come March, you'd invest." *proceeds to bat eyes* Mom delivers and bam!!! Blankie makes current top 5 favorites list! Nice work, friend.
4. SUSHI!!! It took a lot of practice and much prodding from friends to choke down such delicacy, but I finally acquired the taste and now I'm in love. Occasionally, like 3 times a week, I find myself craving eel sauce accompanied with some raw sea urchin (dictionary term: a mischievous young child). My family says that such food is "liberal, for those desiring sophistication, and grounds for possibly being an illegitimate child." Remove all fear, mi familia. I still consider Glenn Beck's book, Arguing With Idiots, to be one of my favorite reads of the year.
5. Family and friends. This one is self-explanatory. The holidays have worked out great for spending sufficient time with both.

Well folks, that's all for now! Sorry it's been awhile... I have been temporarily forbidden to participate in activities requiring more brain activity than needed. Oh, if only I had a dollar for every brain joke I have heard after such statements... And seriously, buy a heating blanket. They are worth every penny.

Shaved Heads and Healing Hearts

2009-11-30T14:14:00.000-08:00

Last night I watched My Sister's Keeper with my family... It spoke to me.

My sophomore year of high school, a family in my community was struck with extreme circumstances. Two of their daughters had brain tumors and their family was struggling financially to provide them with the medical coverage they desperately needed. Our high school launched a fundraiser to earn money for their treatment. What happened next was a miracle I'm glad I got to witness.

To promote the fundraiser and earn money for the cause, some of the more popular girls at school said they would shave their heads if we earned $10,000. Well, we earned well over that amount and so our school held an assembly in the family's name to give them the money and then to shave the heads of the volunteered girls. One of these girls being the varsity cheer captain and the other being a good friend of mine... Both well known and respected by their peers and very outgoing. Excitedly we got let out of class and filed into the gymnasium for the big show. There was a new aura surrounding the school that day, one with a purpose. People were united for a cause. It had the feeling of giving a gift, where you just can't wait to see how happy the person is with what you gave them. Everyone was anticipating this sacred moment.

Cheers and tears were shared throughout the populace as a girl with no hair, looking very frail but packing a beautiful smile, came out to accept the donations for her health. It was a moment worth remembering and it touched the hearts of everyone involved. Then, slowly, attention shifted to the next phase of the assembly... the act of love and bravery that I am grateful I got to witness. Last night's movie reminded me of what these girls did, and now I remember the appearance of sincere charity.

They stepped solemnly to the center of the court, and after hugging the family through a mask of tears, sat down in chairs awaiting the next move. A few minutes later, while simultaneously crying and smiling, they took a few pictures with that family as their hair surrounded their feet and their bare heads shined under the bright lights. I glanced across the crowd during all of this and noticed the emotion of my peers. No one was left untouched.

I remember wishing that I had the courage to do what those girls did that day. I actually felt envious of their good deed. It would be nice to be so happy and to put that type of authentic smile on my face. Those girls lived more in that moment than I did all year... They felt joy because, well, they gave it.

"The world doesn't evolve around you." When people calmly stated that to me growing up, I patiently waited for scientists to announce my energy as Earth's motivating force. I figured once that made world news, I could write my letters of forgiveness to the unbelievers. I would have been waiting awhile. There is a certain type of happiness that can only be felt through the service of others. Quite honestly, I don't feel it nearly enough. I always find excuses as to why I didn't help. It seems I'm always too tired or too busy to step away from my agenda. My life is consistently focused on myself and my needs, and this successfully makes me depressed at times. When I watched that movie last night and as it sent me to reflect on that memory in high school, it reminded me that charity is medicating. It heals... if not the body, the soul. Maybe I should prescribe myself a stronger dose and get to work. And no, I'm not going to shave my head, although I have considered it. Hair is significantly annoying. I just want to be more aware of and devoted to opportunities that will aid others. Tis the season after all.

Parental dates and a new perspective

2009-11-22T00:57:00.000-08:00

Tonight I had a date with my parents. It is always comforting to know that when other options are available on a Saturday night (I do socialize) that I would rather go with the rents to see a movie. Maybe I'm a little delirious, but all I wanted to do tonight was revisit my childhood and just hang with the old people, even if my dad snores and my mom wakes him to remind him that he's embarrassing. In a dysfunctional and rather amusing way, I find it cute. We saw Blind Side and if you haven't seen that yet, please do. I have a lot of things that momentarily change my life and inspire me, this is one of them and it quickly jumped its way to my favorite movie list... one that is highly prestigious I might add... One where Titanic is at the top of the list (for all you men who just groaned aloud, The Count of Monte Cristo, Gladiator, and Braveheart are there too). I find it incredibly inspiring when Mel Gibson yells, "FREEDOM" at the top of his lungs in a skirt. Just sayin.

Anyways, on the ride home we were discussing my recent travels to Mississippi and Virginia where I played a little ball, you know, attempted the whole college athlete thing again. Oh, and by played I mean sacrifice myself for slaughtering. If your team's goal by the end of a game against a ranked team is to have more points than turnovers, you know its time to evaporate in thin air. With eleven minutes left I turned to my teammate and said, "I would give anything to be Harry Potter right now and disappear." Obviously my focus for this game was superb... 1. Disappear, 2. Do it fictional wizard style. Let's just say I led the team jogging out of the gym. Ranked opponent or not, that loss did not sit well with me.

I was cynically, loudly, and emotionally explaining my thoughts to my parents about how embarrassing it is to be the victim of public flogging in front of a proud, Southern audience, when my dad interrupted me (usually this would spark an intense argument by itself, but it was late and I am trying this new concept called 'picking battles'). He said, "Dawg, be grateful for the opportunity you have earned. When I see your name get announced in these big gyms as part of a starting line up, I'm extremely proud. You have worked hard and earned those moments, and that is what life is all about. Feel honored to wear that jersey." Well Dad, talk about a mood killer. Here I am trying to be hopelessly depressed and you have to go and make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Have some respect! And by that I mean... er... hey, thanks for the good advice and changing my perspective on what is really important. I still hate it when you're right. So annoying.

My dad made some valid points with that quick, yet appropriate, statement. Honestly, in years to come I'm not going to remember the scores of games (thank heavens) or the stats. I will remember the people I played with, the places I've been, and the lessons I learned getting there. Since I was a little kid my greatest dream was to find some way to be a Division 1 athlete on a full-ride athletic scholarship. It was not an easy road by any means. Three high school coaches, one lawsuit, three signing parties (Dixie, BYUH, and UVU), a year spent an ocean away, a year as a red shirt, and an undying dream later, I made it. It's not Duke or Tennessee, but it is what I wanted... it did suffice the goal. The literal thousands of hours spent in gyms or in my backyard dribbling a ball to my walkman every day after school paid off. I had a note for four years that sat in my room and reminded me of my goals, I was committed to them and did everything in my power to achieve them. I figured God would do the rest if I asked. He did.

It is easy to forget how we got where we are. The hard work, dedication, and perseverance are oftentimes overlooked when present situations get tough. This holds true for anything, basketball was a small example. My dad helped me use peripheral vision tonight and for that I am deeply touched. I remember a distinct moment last year as I was warming up in a preseason game at Gonzaga in front of a packed crowd (which is remarkable for women's basketball). I thought to myself, "This is it. I got where I wanted to be." I distinctly remember getting choked up about it a good ten minutes before the game even started... me and my pathetic little soap boxes. Sure, we lost. Big deal. Point is, I practiced some self efficacy and never gave up on myself. This is a lesson basketball brought to the table that I can apply to several current situations in my life right now. If I would have settled and been satisfied at something less than I felt I could do or wanted, there are chances I could follow similar patterns in other situations. Sometimes we need to allow ourselves to be led by our own personal little success stories.

Bottom line? Appreciate yourself a little more, give credit when deserved, and see the deeper meaning underlying present situations. Above and beyond all of this, just keep fighting... even if it's just for a little longer. The memories gained and the confidence earned in the end of a difficult time will by far outweigh any negative thought, feeling, or emotion. Find a way to hang on and enjoy the ride.

I declare war on.... Show tunes and Christian rock

2009-11-10T12:19:00.000-08:00

You know when people ask you what type of music you like? Well, I usually respond with a simple "everything" and then go rambling off on a few artists I may or may not be obsessed with and then make a few suggestions for that person's individual musical library. The past week or so has taught me, though, that I have been an absolute liar. I have stumbled across two genres of evil in my audio world. Show tunes and Christian rock.

Now, hate is a strong word... and I use it often to get a point across without really meaning it in its proper context. But in the cases of musicals and God bands, it may be appropriate. If they were actual individuals standing in front of me, I would blindfold them, tie them up in a distant field, and blast them full of holes with the biggest gun I could find. I would proceed to burn them and hope death upon the very birds that breathe their ashes. So ya, "hate" may be the appropriate word. (warning: if you don't know me and are already bothered, please stop reading. My dark humor will only give you nightmares)

Show tunes was my first eye-opening experience that I do, in fact, dislike some music. This does not include ABBA, I believe they are the only exception. I mean, who doesn't wanna be a dancing queen? Shoot, I'm pigeon-toed. That song totally hit my wildest dreams... And my mom used to sing Mamma Mia to me and dance inappropriately in the car, making half of me want to giggle and blush and the other half of me contemplate undoing my seat belt and fling my body mass into oncoming traffic. Luckily, I chose to giggle and blush. Point being, ABBA stole my heart at a young age. As for other show tunes, I declare war.

Case one: My best friend, Mari, and I had a best friend date recently. Part of the agreement to get her to eat some sushi was that I had to listen to show tunes to and from the restaurant. It sounded easy enough, right? No, it was excruciating. The only good that came of it was that I realized my Best actually has a surprisingly good voice. After 10 years I barely noticed that. I may be a horrible person... Anyways, she kept saying, "You really like them... I know you don't think they're that bad. They are growing on you." Well, yes, they are growing on me.... On my very last nerve.

Case two: A few weeks ago, I went on a team retreat. Moab is a good 3 hours away from my much adored Family City, U.S.A. (yes, that is what the sign coming into Orem really says). My assistant coach came to the conclusion that it would be a good idea to force me to listen to the ENTIRE Wicked soundtrack on the way. When she would turn around, the Skull Candy headphones, you know, the bass amplified ones that cover the entirety of one's ears, were quickly put on and turned up. Bass to the max. She quickly caught on to my escapism and stole my headphones from me!!! I was distraught and cynical the rest of the way. Every Wicked song could go to hell for all I cared and even when I attempted to listen with an open mind, I realized that I still thought they should be playing on repeat in Satan's piano bar. So, yes, I really do despise musicals... They preach of such good themes, so why don't they just script them and act them out instead of putting dancing and cheesy lyrics to it? I think they have good intentions of being inspiring, but they just make me want to A) vomit, or B) imitate James Bond and go Goldeneye on their ass.

Ok, I just took a deep breath. Christian rock. Here we go... I could be blasphemous in this next paragraph or interpreted that way. I mean, who would speak ill of music that sends messages of Christ, right? Let me begin by saying that me hating Christian rock has absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to worship God and be reverent, it just has everything to do with me wanting to slap this genre across the face and laugh while I'm at it. Why? When I think of religion, I think of organs, mellow pianos, deep lyrics, and well, my grandma singing hymns at church while I fall asleep and drool all over her skirt. Basically, reverent topics need paralleling reverent music. About the time that ridiculous movie Single's Ward came out and grown people started singing "Popcorn Popping" to an electric guitar in the background, I knew Christian worship was entering a new era. It was like all the wanna be N*Sync boys were gaining significant approval ratings around the Valley (Utah Valley aka Mormonville) because they could jump up and down with a mic in hand, sway their head, and put drums, bass guitars, and music videos to their testimony. I just don't approve. I dunno, if one day during general conference the LDS church asks a boy band to orchestrate the music, I'll be proved wrong and write a new blog asking for forgiveness. Until then, Mr. President, where's my stimulus package? I will need a few grenades, some earplugs, a couple marines, and a tank to win my vendetta against immature church music.

Show tunes and Christian rock... Please, support my cause for nonviolence by leaving them at home when coming with me. I'll even listen to Sir Chesney sing about his sexy tractor over both genres. Unless, of course, it's ABBA.... But then I may ask you to dance inappropriately. :P

A Monster and Me

2009-11-03T20:42:00.000-08:00

I met a monster outside of my head.
And then welcomed him in
Asked, "Have you been fed?"
"No," he replied in a gruesome tone.
Then he shook my mind
And chewed my bones.

He clawed and scratched the whole of my through
Made fragments of me
And painted them too.
Creatively he worked till the birth of dawn.
He was the artist of this
Of all that is wrong.

The feast finally ended and I gathered the remains,
Of the girl that was me
Now broken and stained.
That clever monster deconstructed my soul,
And left me to rot
Lost in a role.

My portrait of honor is now visibly obscene.
The colors are new
And the shapes all keen.
Picasso could not devise such disproportionate designs
Of bluff smiles and agony
So beautifully entwined.

Masking Integrity

2009-10-31T12:55:00.001-07:00

Happy Scary Day, people. It has been too long since I've sketched my words down (I say sketched because if my blog wasn't typed, my handwriting is like 12 year-old male encryptions, and no one has time these days to do interpreting). So here we go, a new thought by yours truly, and one that I have been hesitant to jot down for quite some time, thus, me playing hide-and-seek. I am finally out of hiding, fitting, it's Halloween, and ready to announce my secrets for being terrifying and unrecognizable. Allow me to put away my fangs, take off my black cape, and give everyone the recipe for self-destruction.

10. Focus on the material. Look good, play good, feel good.
9. Be selfish... only be charitable by giving others opportunities to sacrifice.
8. Surround yourself with people you don't agree with. Soon the only person you have to argue with is yourself.
7. Neglect those closest to you. They will be fine.
6. Knowledge is more important than morals. Smart people make the worst decisions and learn from them.
5. Be irresponsible. Everyone will think you're fun.
4. Lie. It's the easiest way out of any uncomfortable situation. Easy is good.
3. Be quick to conform. It takes too much effort to be in the minority.
2. Cheat. Wining is everything. As a dear friend would say, "It sucks to suck."
1. Always question yourself, even when you're sure. Truth is relative.

These ingredients, or principles as I would like call them, have ruled my life a time or two..... or three. I can only laugh as I consider how foolish they are. I believe I have actually said this statement before, "I am losing myself to find myself." Does anyone think that sentence sounds a bit bizarre and backwards? Folks, lose yourself and you will find a broken, socially compiled you... a you that will never be satisfied or stable. Run away from your integral self and you will be found guilty by a series of regrets.

One day I was having a stimulating conversation with a dear friend. Some of you may have heard of him, and if not, I solemnly swear to backhand you and your underpaid teachers upside the head. Anyways, in the midst of our convo, Ghandi said this, "The truth is the truth. Even if it is by a minority of one." Consider the power of those words and how they fight the very way of thinking modern society has taken. Now, I don't want this blog to be political or religious. I'm quite imperfect and am still finding my way through this play of awkward characters, bad lighting, and overpriced concessions we call life. I will say, though, that finding one's self does not require a person to lose sight of everything he or she has stood for. We won't find ourselves by silencing, removing, and secreting our best attributes.

So, in this society of masks and costumes, don't become a ghoul. It doesn't take long before acting a part evolves into a steady career of self-betrayal and haunting consequences. When those cleverly dressed souls come hobbling to your door seeking to "trick" you with their lavish displays, unwrap the good you have to offer to the world and "treat" them with a glimpse of true happiness one can only find in the pure appearances of integrity.

Insight at the intersection

2009-10-06T12:27:00.000-07:00

Current circumstances have given me the privilege to learn to appreciate walking to school. Listen folks, if you have a car, cherish it, take it to get its oil changed, make it look pretty with a nice wash now and again, and make sure your name is on that title!!! Losing a vehicle is no joke. Ok, back to the topic at hand...

So, I'm walking home from campus with my huge skullcandy headphones on. I was probably jamming to something mildly depressing that excites and stimulates me, which probably shouldn't happen, but to people my type it does. Trust me, we are a strange breed. Anyways, I get to this dreaded intersection by the roundabout next to the lovely wolverine statue that's grimacing at me. It was fitting for the occasion, actually, because that place is a freaking nightmare. There are these two white lines a few feet apart and I'm waiting patiently to the side of them ready to cross in their boundaries (for those drivers out there who don't know what those white lines are, it means I'm the pedestrian and I'm in control, so put your fortunate foot on the left pedal and slow the fetch down so I can enjoy my mildly depressing music once again). *breathes* Apparently people weren't taught this concept in driver's ed, because I watched as about 20 cars drove right past me with their driver's staring. I'm sure they were thinking, "Someone else will let her cross... I'm in a hurry." Thus, my point for this lovely blog today.

Look, I really didn't care that they didn't stop. I was in no hurry. The weather was nice, I had time to spare before I had to lift heavy things aka weights, and my positive psychology class was uplifting today... Not to mention I had a great song playing in my ear. Being on the other end of the situation this time though, that of walking and not driving, made me realize something, again... People are selfish. Finally, some girl stopped, smiled (probably pitifully), and let me continue along my path. Soon thereafter I thought to myself, "Do I put myself on hold for other's benefit at times, or do I drive on by?" I'm pretty sure I usually let opportunities to be gracious pass more often than not. So I guess today life was teaching me a lesson and I had a little change of perspective.

Oftentimes acts of kindness, whether they be simple or not, are viewed as an annoyance rather than an opportunity. Those higher roads are less traveled, but not because they have limited access. This blog is all in metaphor stemming from a real life experience, letting someone cross the street is a mere example of kindness, but it proves my point. I would like to know what was different about this one girl who took the time to stop? Was her agenda any less important than the other's who drove on? What compelled her to be the one to help another? There was probably not much of a difference, they were all headed to the same place, school. Yet she had more insight than the rest... she understood that it wouldn't hurt her to help another. Her day would continue on the same... In fact, she probably didn't even think twice about what she did.

The purpose of these thoughts is to express my idea of charity and its place in the world. We need one another. Every day I bet we could find someone who needs our help, whether it be a smile, opening their door, asking how they are and really caring to hear the response, or a phone call expressing how much they mean to you. In my case, it's a ride to school and practice. I love my teammates and Mari. At times, we too are going to be on the sidewalk, the ones who need a little assistance getting by, and we are going to depend on the willing attitudes of those around us to recognize our need, stop, and help. I hope that I can do a better job at noticing the needs of others and sacrificing a little time out of my day to extend a hand or open my arms. Thanks to those who help me every day. I appreciate your kind words and good hearts, deeply.

A good night

2009-10-05T23:08:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I was happy. Sometimes happiness can be confusing because it comes at times and in moments you wouldn't expect. It is a very unpredictable and most desired emotion. It arrives on its own agenda and disappears as quickly as it comes most times. Tonight, though, I recognized it in my persona and reveled in its embrace. It was warm and welcoming.

This evening held some very pleasant and unexpected surprises for me. Good food, good music, good company, and good conversation all the way around. These things were all very simple, and usually accessible, but tonight I realized their importance to me personally. Simple is happiness. What a tiny equation to such a great height.

This blog really holds no great lines or amazing concepts... it is what it is. I have made the goal to recognize the small things that make me happy and so here is some recognition for myself. I have nothing else to say other than tonight was a good night. I was comfortable and myself... It felt so, well, perfect. I cherish these moments.

Pennies For Loneliness

2009-10-02T20:30:00.000-07:00

So... I wrote this awhile ago. As I was searching through my documents I happened to stumble across it again. Have you ever done that? You know, forgot how you felt at certain times and then come across something that brings memories flooding back? I just feel grateful for time and its amazing healing powers.

I spent all my pennies on loneliness
Saving nothing for getting by
And within this empty heart I bought
I painted colors to match your eyes.

I’ll gladly starve in thought of you
Call it charity to remember your smile
I would even sacrifice my sanity
Just to be with you awhile.

As I live in stricken poverty
I will find a sidewalk to befriend
And in my bony arms I’ll hold
Cardboard that begs for you again.

Yes, I spent all I had for loneliness
Buying the moment for us to end
Ironically, the only gift to me
Was depression as my friend.

And when the night slips over me
Making my body shiver at the core
I will wrap myself in all I own
Blankets of sadness, nothing more.

Kingdoms and Crowns

2009-10-01T23:24:00.000-07:00

Rules only make rulers of us all
often in kingdoms destined to fail;
The fights rage on for territory new
to conquer and prevail.

And in the midst of one dynasty
dark with nothing to commend;
A slave girl spoke loudly in defense
to ignorance that wouldn't bend.

Oh, those sharp swords of injustice
how quickly they were drawn;
There is no room for listeners
in empires going wrong.

So escape she did from that land
of broken spirits in disguise;
No part did she want of a crown
that empties the heads it tries.

Time and Its Continual Flight

2009-09-30T23:26:00.001-07:00

Today my best friend got her mission call and it prompted many thoughts to dance around in this head of mine. As I watched her prepare to open her neatly pressed envelope with many of her loved ones and closest friends in the room, attending for support and anticipating her news, I had one of those "time stopping" moments. I observed the emotion, consisting of nervousness and excitement, compiled into a huge smile that radiated happy energy and affected all of us there. There was a vibrancy in the air that couldn't be missed. In this brief moment, it hit me, and when I say hit I literally mean it felt like something pounded me in the chest, that time flies. Ten years I have known this girl and 30 years of memories we have shared. It feels like just yesterday we were riding in a van to Idaho for our first basketball trip together as awkward seventh-graders. Now we are 21 and she is on her way to begin the biggest journey of her life thus far. Isn't it interesting how easy it is to take time for granted?

Life moves and it moves quickly. Most days I feel that I can barely keep up with what I have to do or what I hope to get done. There is no time set aside to bask in achievements or positive moments, instead its off to make the next goal. I guess I don't stop often enough to just be and notice what's around me. Today was an inspiring day because it reminded me of what is important in life. To me, those priorities are in order as God, family, and friends. When I put them in order this way, I realize that most of my day is not prioritized correctly and that I often get caught up in what isn't beneficial or significant to what I know creates my greatest happiness. Basically, I have a lot of work to do :) My best friend motivated me today and I want her to know when she reads this that she is one of my greatest heroes and her example will continually give me strength, even while she is gone. She will be a great missionary and those Tennesseans better know how lucky they are to have her.

I'm going to try harder to enjoy the moment. I want to taste what I feel and savor the flavor. It's too short, you know, this life we have been given. Time is a bandit slyly making his getaway. Let us all take what we can from him before it is too late and he disappears from sight. We can't control the movements of a clock or the sun as it makes its downward turn over the ridge of a mountain, but we can take leadership over the movements, endeavors, and memories in between. Henry Van Dyke said, “Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.” It's certainly appropriate to befriend time rather than ignore it, for it consists of the choices we make, the breaths we take, and ultimately, the life we live.

A thought on Faith...

2009-09-24T00:49:00.000-07:00

I just wrote the shortest poem I have ever composed. It may be my favorite, though, because of the story line behind it. Perhaps I can help the few readers that pay attention to this blog, bless them all, relate.

We all make mistakes. Yet, in the midst of the wrongs we commit, sometimes we come to realizations that the lifestyles or personalities created during the times of our wrongdoings aren't really us. So we change and we grow. Wouldn't it be nice if the opinions and judgments passed on us during our times of mistakes could be lifted in accordance with our new life choices as well? It is a hope we all have, you know, to have our bad choices be forgotten and to gain trust in the new person made as the art of good choice-making slowly becomes perfected... Yet, it takes time. More importantly, it takes Faith.

Sometimes, my friends, the ones we want to be proud of us most and to hug us in our greatest feats are still questioning our motives, even after we have been doing our best to become our greatest. Their words of approval are the treasures we just can't seem to find. Maybe it is because our battle has taken too long to fight and skepticism is their right shoulder. Perhaps stubbornness is their own demon to behead. Or maybe their perspective is altered because of whatever source they seem to find "truth" in. No matter what the case may be, recovery can be a slow process if approval isn't found from the right people. It is at these times that our backbones need to become thicker, our independence impenetrable, and our attitudes positive. These are also the times in which we need to find and befriend Faith. We cannot lose sight of our goals and who we are because of what others may or may not think about us. We are the writers of our stories, not the readers. It is not uncommon for others to judge us before the book is through.

In these times, Faith is our greatest advocate. She is the one asset that provides us lasting truth without revealing the whole plot. Faith is my greatest comfort and my wholesome friend.

Faith

2009-09-24T00:17:00.000-07:00

I'm not very fond of Perspective today
He stole them from me
Drove them away.

I found that I hate Stubbornness, too
She is a harlot
Sleeping with Truth.

And Proof is a man broken and bruised
I pity his mind
So easily confused.

But Faith, simple Faith, now her I adore
Each moment I find
I love her more.

My Gratitude Exercise

2009-09-22T12:15:00.000-07:00

Ok, well, continuing on from last night... I want to give a shout out to those friends who have been with me through my darkest and happiest times... In my Positive Psychology class and in the leadership council on my basketball team we have been emphasizing gratitude and its relation to happiness. So here is a warm "thank you" and a few reasons as to why each of them are here.

Mari: My best friend. She has been to hell and back with me for reasons that stump both of us at times. I trust her completely with everything. We are going on 10 years... Love you Mar. You'll be the best missionary ever. I'm so proud of you.

Terri: The first person I met on my first day alone in Hawaii. We didn't know it at the time, but that was not a coincidence. This is to all of our deep talks, the late night trips to 711 and the beach, the memories, and listening to you play your guitar. Our friendship is going strong today. Her advice and strong willed statements are still something I lean on, even though she is states away.

Chelsea: We agree to disagree on most things except that we need and support each other. Chels came into my life at a pivotal time and I feel truly blessed to have her in my life. She took me in and has supported me endlessly. Her sense of humor and wit are rare and comforting. She is my older sis.

Kristin: aka Fat Joe. Thank you for putting up with me and being an open ear at the end of a line when I've needed it. You're brilliant, yet chaotic, and I love that about you. We have shared some good and bad times... and they are all worth remembering.

Hollie: aka Champ. My other older sister. We have had boulders crash our friendship at times, but we have made it past them and now our friendship is in a strong, stable place. Thank you for all you and your family has done for me. I admire your testimony and you always seem to have fitting advice. I look up to you so much, more than I like to admit at times, Horrie ;)

Kim: She has a great heart and makes a great friend. A definite yellow personality that always finds a way to lift my spirits and make me smile. Everyone needs one of these people in your life. Her spontaneity amazes me and I wish that I could have as much fun studying rocks as she does. ;)

Erika: aka Foreplay. This girl is the happiest person I know. Her optimism and good heart is infectious and I can't help but be around her. I can't wait to see Chris in New York next Spring... Save your pennies Fore!

Tamarra: She simplifies beauty and makes it prettier than before. Who knew that could be done, right? T has taught me many life long lessons, ones I can't and won't forget. I trust her and know she has my best intentions at heart. A very loyal and great person.

Chelsey (Potts): Potts! My roommate when I moved back to Utah. She drove me around for six months, let me listen to whatever music I wanted in her car, made me laugh, watched my cry, and was a support to me in very tough times, times she never asked a single question about. I was honored to be a bridesmaid at her wedding and now she is a great mom to a beautiful little girl. Miss you Potts. Skirt squad!

Alex: He is a great friend and someone I cherish. We have known each other for 6 years and have accepted one another in whatever new stage life wraps us in. He has been a comfort and help to me, especially in the past few months. I miss letting him beat me in chess.

Jacob (and Mya, of course): Jacob is a new best friend, a label I've quickly put beside his name, but a person I already feel a very strong connection to. He is a great listener, refuses to pass judgments, and is supportive. In a very short time, he has changed my perspective on life. For all of you that know me, that is extremely hard to do. I would like to give thanks to him and his beautiful black lab Mya that follows him wherever he goes. They make me smile.

Suz: Thank you. For everything.

What a comfort to know that when I feel alone, am in a tough time, or feel that the world is crashing down, I am surrounded by good people. Some of these individuals don't even live near me but in places such as Washington, Texas, and Spain. No matter where they live or how far apart we are at times, they are all close to my heart. Of course there are countless others that mean a great deal to me, but these are the people who have waited in storms with me they may or may not have understood. They are my little battalion and I am so grateful they have my back. This is my little gratitude exercise for the day... Thanks for reading. :)

The Intro

2009-09-22T00:05:00.000-07:00

I do not want to start this introduction by saying anything about myself other than the one emotion encompassing my soul at the moment, that of gratitude. I am grateful and this gratitude is keeping me alive. So really, the intentions for forming this blog tonight have nothing to do with me, but everything to do with the ones who have inspired it. Before I begin may I please just whisper the most sincere "thank you" to those in my life at this time. You are in it because there is strength, comfort, and solace in all of you that gives me hope... Hope I so desperately cling to every day.

Tonight I realized something profound. It is extremely arguable yet my greatest truth. Sometimes, in all of our lives, things just happen for a reason. I was having a horrible night, one consisting of a mild identity crisis and a fleeting moment of despair. It was a night full of assumptions and accusations pointed in my direction that left me interrogating myself and in a very reactive state of mind. After a horrid phone call I was angry and hurt, yet amazingly not broken this time. The strength I found in my similar yet always hurtful situation went unnoticed until I was able to share a very inspirational phone call with a newfound friend, and the most recent blessing in my life. I quickly understood why I can call myself "ok" and move forward through all this very personal drama that is trying to swallow me whole. I realized that I have the greatest support group I could ever ask for. It is because of that group of divine, stable, and admirable people that I am the person I am. For those of you reading this that are a part of this group, you know who you are. Some of you know one another, some of you don't. But you all mean more to me than I could ever express or even attempt to show.

I have a group of best friends. I shouldn't publicly announce their names, but I will. I refuse to be silent of those friends who have been there for me during my toughest of times. You have helped me grow, and in later blogs I will give you all a personal explanation. (this is my way of enticing you to come back). lol.

Most of you have had to forgive me a time or two, or perhaps ten times ;) I'm sorry that my compulsive and unstable nature at times has given me multiple opportunities to show insanity at its finest and make some rather dumb decisions. But thank you so much for your patience and willingness to look past my faults and to continue to be my friends. You are the smiles in my memories, the hugs in a hard time, and the people in my poems.

How dreary and depressing would life be if we were to journey it alone? It is not the path taken, but those in the car with you, that make the ride what it is. My friends have traveled bumpy roads with me and have not complained. I am grateful for the good advice, the open ear, the giving heart, the patient soul, and the solid companionship found in them. I don't know how many times I have been able to avoid being alone in desperate times because I have been invited to go to a Sunday dinner, given the keys to a friend's car, been able to call no matter what hour of night it is, or just the kind of look only a close friend can give that literally says, "You're gonna be ok, I'm here for you as long as you need me." Thank you to you all. You're in my hearts tonight and I couldn't be more proud or grateful to all of you than I am right now. We met for reasons that are continually unfolding day by day. I believe that with all my heart.