tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36689508930522248182024-03-18T21:49:14.917-07:00mostly wise wordsfrom a mostly clever galAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.comBlogger275125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-31555084864270246412013-11-10T17:21:00.001-07:002013-11-10T17:21:53.385-07:00Another shot.It has literally been 8 months since I last posted on my blog.<div><br></div><div>I kind of missed it.</div><div><br></div><div>But also kind of not. (I'll explain that in a bit)</div><div><br></div><div>Here's a quick rundown of what I've been up to recently (if you don't follow me on Twitter. If you do, you can probably skip this bit)</div><div><br></div><div>-I ran two 5Ks</div><div>-I got in a car crash</div><div>-I learned to drive a manual</div><div>-I developed an unhealthy obsession with a <i>certain</i> British actor.</div><div>-Senior year!</div><div>-Senior pics!</div><div>-I became Laurels president</div><div>-I completed my last year or marching band (sob)</div><div>-I became 'addicted' to Pinterest</div><div>-I joined the school newspaper</div><div>-I found happiness</div><div><br></div><div>That last item is why I haven't really been blogging recently.</div><div><br></div><div>See, I used to use my blog for my emotional rants. If I was sad, depressed, angry, lusting for blood, or overly infatuated with a boy, I would blog about it.</div><div><br></div><div>Then I realized, I was annoying the living daylights out of everyone who read my blog.</div><div><br></div><div>So, I stopped.</div><div><br></div><div>For a while, I stopped because I was still overly emotional, and didn't want to risk posting about it on my blog.</div><div><br></div><div>After that ended, I realized I needed to be happier in my outlook, and so I started searching for the silver lining.</div><div><br></div><div>I've gotten quite good at it, if I do say so myself. </div><div><br></div><div>So, I think I'm ready to give this blogging thing another shot.</div><div><br></div><div>Bekah's newfound positive outlook is ready for launch.</div><div><br></div><div>Here we go.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-44046230597300169822013-03-09T22:47:00.001-07:002013-03-09T22:48:35.951-07:00On Serious Topics, Like SuicideThis is the second suicide of a kid in my school system.<br />
His name was Tyler, and he was in ninth grade.<br />
The first was Sydney, and she was a senior. <br />
I was so grateful as I was scrolling through Facebook today.<br />
I found this, by my formerYW's leader.<br />
I think everybody needs to hear it:<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~ <br />
<br />
<b>WHY I DIDN'T COMMIT SUICIDE, BY SISTER PACK</b><br />
<br />
Less than two days ago, [my daughter's] friend took his life. Last
night she came home from a 90-minute candlelight vigil held in his
honor. As I looked at her puffy red eyes, a flood of memories came back
to me. When I was her age, I had decided to do the same thing.<br />
<br />
Obviously,
I didn’t do it or else I wouldn’t be able to write this note. I can
count on one hand the number of people I have ever told about this. But
because this is the third suicide in a month in my community, I’ve
decided to go public as to (1) why I wanted to die and (2) why I didn’t
die.<br />
<br />
WHY I WANTED TO DIE<br />
I decided to commit suicide
for two main reasons. First, I wanted to exact revenge on my bully. I
figured this would be the most effective way to inflict on her the kind
of pain I thought she was inflicting on me. My plan was to leave a
note saying it was all her fault and she should blame herself for my
death. I fantasized about how miserable and tormented she would be
knowing that she caused this.<br />
<br />
Second, I felt like I wasn’t
an earthly being having spiritual experiences, but that I was a
spiritual being having earthly experiences (I still feel that way). I
was tired of being away from my Heavenly Father and all the trials and
heartache associated with living on earth. I missed God and wanted to
be with Him.<br />
<br />
WHY I DIDN’T DIE<br />
I finally came very
close to actually doing it when my dad unknowingly stopped me. That
jolted me into the reality of what I was doing. I realized that I was
looking at a permanent solution to a temporary problem. While I knew
that I would create heartache for my bully, I realized that heartache
wouldn’t last forever. Eventually she’d be able to deal with her
feelings of guilt. She’d grow up, get married, have children, and live a
full life. I never would. It finally dawned on me that my plan for
revenge was punishing me far more than her.<br />
<br />
The other
reason why I didn’t do it was fear of what would happen to me when I
died. I was afraid that Heavenly Father would be mad at me for what I
did in order to see Him. As a result, I was afraid it meant that I
would be separated from Him because I broke the commandment “Thou shalt
not kill.” This seemed worse than being separated from Him on earth. I
have no idea what happens to people who choose to take their own life.
As a 14-year-old, I decided I didn’t want to find out.<br />
<br />
Less
than six months later, my cousin killed himself on the one-year
anniversary of his best friend’s suicide. Watching the pain and
heartache my aunt went through, and how hard it was for my dad to try to
comfort her, I knew that I had made the right choice. Not only would I
have punished my bully, I would have punished those who loved me as
well, my friends and family. I committed to myself that I would never
ever again consider suicide as an option. I’m proud to say that 29
years later, I never have.<br />
<br />
~~~ <br />
<br />
(Hi. It's me again) <br />
Please, don't ever commit suicide. It's the wrong kind of attention. Really.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-5967094427559846132013-02-18T22:04:00.002-07:002013-02-18T22:04:48.519-07:00My Wage<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I bargained with Life for a penny,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And Life would pay no more</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>However I begged at evening</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>When I counted by scanty store.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>For Life is a just employer</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>He gives you what you ask</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>But once you have set the wages</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Why, you must bear the task</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I worked for a menial's hire</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Only to learn, dismayed,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>That any wage I had asked of Life</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Life would have paid.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>-Jessie B. Rittenhouse</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Don't settle for less.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Set your wage high,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And let Life pay you back.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-37670428361165700982013-01-07T18:42:00.001-07:002013-01-07T18:45:24.969-07:00revamped. again.Yeah, I revamped my blog.<br />
Again.<br />
I'm turning into a real Mormon-teenage-girl-who's-also-a-blogger.<br />
I like the dark grey better than I liked the white.<br />
<br />
Welcome to Mostly Wise Words<br />
(formerly surreal dreams and broken means)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-16699879448916108562013-01-06T22:18:00.000-07:002013-01-06T22:28:29.720-07:00New Years and Kissing, Part 2For Part 1, click <a href="http://here./">here.</a><br />
<br />
Yeah, I got kissed on the cheek.<br />
First time I've been kissed by a guy- ever!- that's not in my family.<br />
Whoo hoo!<br />
<br />
Most people don't consider that a "real" kiss.<br />
Which I accept. Good for you.<br />
<br />
Let me tell you WHY I'm grateful for this experience.<br />
It's not because Ifinally "had my first kiss" or whatever.<br />
On the contrary, I'm grateful because I realized something.<br />
<br />
<b>I realized I'm SCARED TO DEATH of my first kiss.</b><br />
<br />
Yup. Sounds about right.<br />
I have not yet kissed a guy, not "really", according to all you literalists.<br />
And I'm scared to death of it.<br />
<br />
It's probably not healthy.<br />
But I'm glad I realize this, anyways.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-38549480973673232612013-01-06T21:59:00.000-07:002013-01-06T21:59:10.010-07:00New Years and Kissing Part 1Sometimes I'm a super romantic.<br />
Like New Years Eve.<br />
I'd be lying if I wasn't half-hoping that someone would kiss me.<br />
You know, something like this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://assets.nydailynews.com/polopoly_fs/1.1229070.1356725979!/img/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_635/new-years-kiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://assets.nydailynews.com/polopoly_fs/1.1229070.1356725979!/img/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_635/new-years-kiss.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D'awww</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was kind of a lamo night, to start with.<br />
None of my friends, besides the ones in the SYC, were there.<br />
I was pretty much alone.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong; it was fun to do all the stuff I do with the SYC, like raffle and handing out noisemakers.<br />
But it wasn't really the same.<br />
<br />
So, in my state of loneliness, I found myself wandering the dance floor like a loner about 5 minutes before midnight.<br />
I felt pretty happy; the night had gone well and work hadn't ended badly, like it does some nights.<br />
Suddenly one of my few friends that was there grabs my hand and pulls me to the middle of the dance floor, right underneath where we had strung the balloons a few hours before.<br />
<br />
"You have to be right here at midnight," he said. "It's really cool to watch the balloons go over you."<br />
I agreed, and spent the next five minutes just partying it up with the strangers from Highland around me.<br />
(Yeah, we get people from Highland at our dances. Be jealous.)<br />
<br />
So we get to that point with the countdown.<br />
3...2...1...<br />
(Side note: At this point I have abandoned all hope for a New Years kiss, just like I do every year. It's not like I'm heartbroken or anything, I've just accepted that it's not going to happen)<br />
Anyways.<br />
Whoo hoo! Screaming and cheering and balloons cascading around my face. It's an adventure.<br />
Suddenly:<br />
A warm, kind of moist-ish feeling on my cheek.<br />
........<br />
What?<br />
A kiss?<br />
A cheek kiss at that, but a KISS?<br />
Head spinning, cheeks flushing, all that nonsense. <br />
<br />
I will forever be eternally grateful for my friend who kissed me at the stroke of midnight.<br />
Even if it was a cheek kiss.<br />
I'll explain more in part 2.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-51550299368901976172013-01-02T09:43:00.002-07:002013-01-02T09:43:39.278-07:00I got nothing.I got onto my blog today.<br />
I was all like "I'm going to blog today!"<br />
And then I got to the "Create New Post" page.<br />
I got nothing. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-38683227871495669452012-12-23T23:47:00.000-07:002012-12-23T23:47:27.752-07:00Silent Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.deseretnews.com/images/article/midres/1048584/1048584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.deseretnews.com/images/article/midres/1048584/1048584.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Looking for an inspirational film for your holiday season?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Silent Night, directed by Christian Vuissa.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Very moving, and has the most beautiful version of the song "Silent Night" that I've ever heard.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(It's the story of how the carol came into being) </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-54641458325076463532012-12-23T13:58:00.001-07:002012-12-23T13:58:44.627-07:00Teach the Children<div style="text-align: center;">
"The children of today seem to have somehow missed out
on the true spirit of Christmas. It's not their fault. It's just that
the adults, many of them not having been taught themselves, have
forgotten to teach the children," said Santa, tears in his eyes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Teach them what?" I asked.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Santa's kind old face became soft, more gentle. His eyes began to
shine with something more than tears. He spoke softly. "<b>Teach the
children the true meaning of Christmas</b>. Teach them that the part of
Christmas we can see, hear, and touch is much more than meets the eye.
Teach them the symbolism behind the customs and traditions of Christmas
which we now observe. Teach them what it is they truly represent."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2W-6Z8hLqoA/UNdkJwm1XVI/AAAAAAAABOI/CHMql2CKSJA/s1600/tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2W-6Z8hLqoA/UNdkJwm1XVI/AAAAAAAABOI/CHMql2CKSJA/s200/tree.jpg" width="200" /></a>Santa reached into his bag and pulled out a tiny Christmas tree and
set it on my mantle. "Teach them about the Christmas tree. <span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>Green</b></span></span> is the
second color of Christmas. <b>The stately evergreen, with its unchanging
color, represents the hope of eternal life in Jesus.</b> Its needles point heavenward as a reminder that mankind's thoughts should turn heavenward as well."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cuk2yhEaUEk/UNdkJSzX5oI/AAAAAAAABOM/FebuYUsaCxw/s1600/star.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cuk2yhEaUEk/UNdkJSzX5oI/AAAAAAAABOM/FebuYUsaCxw/s200/star.jpg" width="200" /></a>Santa reached into his bag again and pulled out a shiny star and
placed it at the top of the small tree. "<b>The star was the heavenly sign
of promise.</b> God promised a Savior for the world and the star was the
sign of the fulfillment of that promise on the night that Jesus Christ
was born. Teach the children that God always fulfills His promises, and
that wise men still seek Him."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zpwLkN4EpLA/UNdkRGYCDeI/AAAAAAAABOQ/wRESwB-P9qM/s1600/ornament.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zpwLkN4EpLA/UNdkRGYCDeI/AAAAAAAABOQ/wRESwB-P9qM/s200/ornament.jpg" width="200" /></a>"<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Red</b></span></span>," said Santa, "is the first color of Christmas." He pulled forth
a red ornament for the tiny tree. "Red is deep, intense, vivid. It is
the color of the life-giving blood that flows through our veins. <b>It is
the symbol of God's greatest gif</b>t. Teach the children that Christ gave
His life and shed His blood for them that they might have eternal life.
When they see the color red, it should remind them of that most
wonderful Gift."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ISOPE3GLY40/UNdkIc3-LqI/AAAAAAAABOU/e0VaHaQ-jxU/s1600/bell.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ISOPE3GLY40/UNdkIc3-LqI/AAAAAAAABOU/e0VaHaQ-jxU/s200/bell.png" width="200" /></a>Santa found a silver bell in his pack and placed it on the tree.
"Just as <b>lost sheep are guided to safety by the sound of the bell,</b> it
continues to ring today for all to be guided to the fold. Teach the
children to follow the true Shepherd, who gave His life for the sheep."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_YTPI75QBVk/UNdkIyXxYVI/AAAAAAAABOY/rcAatmTY5D4/s1600/candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_YTPI75QBVk/UNdkIyXxYVI/AAAAAAAABOY/rcAatmTY5D4/s200/candle.jpg" width="200" /></a>Santa placed a candle on the mantle and lit it. The soft glow from
its one tiny flame brightened the room. "<b>The glow of the candle
represents how people can show their thanks for the gift of God's Son
that Christmas Eve long ago</b>. Teach the children to follow in Christ's
foot steps... to go about doing good. Teach them to let their light so
shine before people that all may see it and glorify God. This is what is
symbolized when the twinkling lights shine on the tree like hundreds of
bright, shining candles, each of them representing one of God's
precious children, their light shining for all to see."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x9hJPEmwv6g/UNdkIaE_lfI/AAAAAAAABOg/NHRWcG1DKt8/s1600/candycane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x9hJPEmwv6g/UNdkIaE_lfI/AAAAAAAABOg/NHRWcG1DKt8/s200/candycane.jpg" width="200" /></a>Again Santa reached into his bag and this time he brought forth a
tiny red and white striped cane. As he hung it on the tree he spoke
softly. "<b>The candy cane is a stick of hard white candy</b>: white to
symbolize the virgin birth and sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to
symbolize the Solid Rock the foundation of the church, and the firmness
of God's promises. The candy cane is in the form of a 'J' to represent
the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth. It also represents the
Good Shepherd's crook, which He uses to reach down into the ditches of
the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone
astray. The original candy cane had three small red stripes, which are
the stripes of the scourging Jesus received by which we are healed, and a
large red stripe that represents the shed blood of Jesus, so that we
can have the promise of eternal life.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"Teach these things to the children."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SIW_rPyeKbM/UNdkKHULanI/AAAAAAAABOk/ft2g2UDGegk/s1600/wreath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SIW_rPyeKbM/UNdkKHULanI/AAAAAAAABOk/ft2g2UDGegk/s200/wreath.jpg" width="200" /></a>Santa brought out a beautiful wreath made of fresh, fragrant greenery
tied with a bright red bow. "<b>The bow reminds us of the bond of
perfection, which is love</b>. <b>The wreath embodies all the good things about
Christmas</b> for those with eyes to see and hearts to understand. It
contains the colors of red and green and the heaven-turned needles of
the evergreen. The bow tells the story of good will towards all and its
color reminds us of Christ's sacrifice. Even its very shape is symbolic,
representing eternity and the eternal nature of Christ's love. It is a
circle, without beginning and without end. These are the things you must
teach the children."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br /><div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r2QBB2awKnA/UNdkJHiDjTI/AAAAAAAABOo/P1FqsIe8Abc/s1600/santa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r2QBB2awKnA/UNdkJHiDjTI/AAAAAAAABOo/P1FqsIe8Abc/s200/santa.jpg" width="200" /></a>I asked, "But where does that leave you, Santa?" <br /><br />The tears gone now from his eyes, a smile broke over Santa's face.
"Why bless you, my dear," he laughed, "I'm only a symbol myself. <b>I
represent the spirit of family fun and the joy of giving and receiving.</b>
If the children are taught these other things, there is no danger that
I'll ever be forgotten."</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br />"I think I'm beginning to understand."<br />"That's why I came," said Santa. "You're an adult. <b>If you don't teach the children these things, then who will?"</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>(Author Unknown)</b></div>
<b></b><div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Let us remember the true meaning of Christmas this year.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Merry Christmas/ Feliz Navidad/ Buone Natalie/ Joyeux Noel!</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Feel free to copy the images and use them to teach your own children/blog readers/Facebook followers)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-66527407226168578502012-12-02T22:15:00.000-07:002012-12-02T22:15:08.845-07:00Updates... Again.Sometimes I suck at blogging.<br />
Other times I just really really need to share stuff.<br />
Like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/mwQFVzkyN2Y?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
And the fact that I love you all.<br />
I'll try to post more, I promise<br />
(But I can't promise that will actually happen)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-89383717073644889472012-10-24T16:22:00.002-07:002012-10-24T16:22:22.150-07:00Search, Ponder, and Pray<span class="userContent"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I've been neglecting my blog. Poor dear. </span></span><br />
<br />
I recently had a discussion with one of my friends. I expressed my excitement in order to go on a mission when I turn 19, and she, though trying to respect my decision, stated that she had decided not to go. When I inquired why, she said it was because her patriarchal blessing had focused a lot on her life as a wife and mother. I said I understood and said no more of it, but I couldn't help pondering her lack of enthusiasm.<br />
<br />
You see, everybody else I've talked to is SUPER excited to go on a mission, myself included. It was strange in the least to find someone who considers herself so strong in the Church not excited. Not. One. Freaking. Whit.<br />
<br />
It kept irking me until a couple days later, when I was in Seminary. Brother Larsen (Best male Seminary teacher I've ever had. Plus, he looks strangely like my dad o.O) talked about how awesome his mission was. He pointed out that we have to get ready for our missions even earlier now, preparing while we're in high school. He got so riled up that he started shouting, telling us that we should be EXCITED for our missions!<br />
<br />
But the best part about the entire discussion is that he pointed out, girls, that if you leave when you're 19, you'll get back when you're 20-21. Most people don't even get married until they're 21 or 22, leaving you with <i>plenty of time.</i>And guess what? It will leave you a better person.<br />
<br />
It proved to me that my friend was, at least, partially wrong. A mission will be a wonderful experience for you, and will help you raise your children in the gospel. <br />
<br />
Girls, I don't know about you, but I'm going on a mission. And if you feel like you shouldn't, pray again, because whether or not the prophet commands it, <i>a mission is for every young man and woman.</i><br />
<br />
(In the name of Jesus Christ, amen)<br />
<br />
P.S.: <br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">"A desire to serve (a mission) is a natural outcome of one’s conversion, worthiness, and preparation." -Russell M. Nelson</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">What does that say about you? </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-8895811963591340462012-10-07T19:06:00.002-07:002012-10-07T19:06:50.207-07:00MISSIONOkay, I'll admit I haven't updated in forever.<br />
What can I say? I'm a busy girl.<br />
But this most recent conference is definetly worth posting about.<br />
<br />
2 1/2 years, suckers! WHOOP! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-69608555228047183592012-07-26T20:16:00.002-07:002012-07-26T20:16:49.687-07:00Trek!<div style="text-align: center;">
Trek was an amazing experience.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Those who have been know that I'm not kidding.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Heck, there aren't words to describe it!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I had an amazing family:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/560909_10151049049039837_2085414741_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/560909_10151049049039837_2085414741_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And guess what?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We were at Martin's Cove/ Sixth Crossing/ Rocky Ridge/ Rock Creek Hollow...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
OVER PIONEER DAY.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />Freaking spiritual experience, let me tell you.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I also had the opportunity to trek for several people over the last few days:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Heber Robert McBride, 13: Heber came across the plains with his family in the Martin Handcart Company. His mother took sick and his father died (after the last crossing of the Platte River) so he and his older sister Janette carried their younger brothers and sister all the way to the Valley</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hannah Hawkey, 34: Hannah also came across in the Martin Company. She married a widower, Foster Hawkey and adopted his son, James, both of who died somewhere along the way. She carried her two daughters in the handcart most of the way, and they survived to reach the valley.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ane Olsen, 46: Ane and her son Lorenzo (12) were from Denmark. Ane was known as a remarkably charitable person, giving money to people who needed it. She died after the treacherous ascent of Rocky Ridge, leaving Lorenzo an orphan. She was one of the 13 buried at Rocky Ridge (see the movie 17 Miracles)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Rebecca Cula Langman, 21: Rebecca, a single woman from England, was the only member of her family. She became a member at age 16. At age 20, she met Moses Cluff, a missionary. They became friends and talked of going to America. She traveled in the Willie Handcart Company, and Moses traveled with the Martin Handcart Company. 6 weeks after she arrived in the valley, she and Moses were married (terribly romantic, isn't it?)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I love all these people with all my soul.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hope you do, too.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-48414307063701182732012-07-05T18:53:00.000-07:002012-07-05T18:53:10.522-07:00Team Cyrano<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://edu.glogster.com/media/4/25/57/2/25570222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://edu.glogster.com/media/4/25/57/2/25570222.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cyrano de Bergerac is the best love story in the world.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Why?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One reason, mostly.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;">Cyrano's love for Roxane is completely selfless.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He helps Christian woo Roxane, knowing all the while that she will never love him. <span style="background-color: white;">When Roxane and Christian were married, Cyrano distracts De Guiche, though it costs him much pain to witness his love marry another. </span><span style="background-color: white;">Even after Christian dies, Cyrano lets Roxane live in her unrequited love, when he could be making his move. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've also decided that I'm "Team Cyrano", if we're going to separate into teams.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cyrano has known Roxane his entire life, so he knows what a sweet soul she is.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Christian's love for Roxane is based entirely off of infatuation (and vice versa).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I kind of think Roxane is not the best candidate for Cyrano.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Though she is kind-hearted and well meaning, she has a shallow idea about love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Love shouldn't be about good looks and smooth talking- it should be about the love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hence the term.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yup.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What's your favorite love story?</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-26605648076409576432012-07-03T16:26:00.001-07:002012-07-03T16:26:09.176-07:00Prestige<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--kd_9AhyL58/T9-H1J8cJiI/AAAAAAAABzk/6f1Jwc3YPh8/s1600/Liebster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--kd_9AhyL58/T9-H1J8cJiI/AAAAAAAABzk/6f1Jwc3YPh8/s1600/Liebster.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I feel so prestigious.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Thanks to the <i>liebling</i> <a href="http://double-lovin.blogspot.com/">Emilee</a>, I have been nominated (!!) for the Liebster award!</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;">"The Liebster Blog Award is given to upcoming bloggers who have less than 200 followers. The Meaning; Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing and welcome."</span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Awww.. I feel so special.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u>THE RULES.</u></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">1. one must write eleven facts about themselves.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">2. answer the questions the 'tagger' has set for you. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">3. provide eleven new questions for the people you tag.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">4. choose up to elven people and link them in your post.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="line-height: 18px;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">5. inform the 'tagged' of this prestigious award.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u>THE FACTS</u></span></span></div>
<ol>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,Utopia,'Palatino Linotype',Palatino,serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Audiobooks
are amazing. They make even books I hate tolerable. Twilight? I can
stand it when I'm listening to it through ear-buds.</span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,Utopia,'Palatino Linotype',Palatino,serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I kind of ran into a fence today. No big deal (so say my parents)</span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,Utopia,'Palatino Linotype',Palatino,serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I'm kind of obsessed with accents. My current favorite is Scottish, though most days it's English.</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm sleepy....</span></span></li>
<li>I have the cutest little sister in the world. Jus'sayin.</li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Honey toast is the best. Yumm.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The best love story in the world is Cyrano de Bergerac. I'll post my reasons later.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Phantom of the Opera 25th Anniversary Edition at Royal Albert Hall. Win.</span></span></li>
<li>I'm watching my brother play Wii Tennis. It's kind of boring.</li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Young love is fickle</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm singing the Veggie Tales "Pizza Angel" song in my head. I don't know why. It's just so catchy.</span></span></li>
</ol>
<u><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span></i></u></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">THE ANSWERS</span></span></u></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></i></u></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<u><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What is your father's best quality?</span></span></i></u></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Hmm..... Either his patience, or his sense of humor. Pops makes me giggle.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Best thing you ever ate?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> Ooh...... Lion House rolls. Best. Rolls. Ever.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What is your favorite scent?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Wildflowers. They remind me of home. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Favorite summertime memory?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> Ack... too many to count.... but I really liked that one time I went to Oregon.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Tell me about the scariest thing you ever encountered.</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">My friends when they're angry. Especially Arianna's loud voice. Don't make her use her loud voice. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What is the best book you've ever read?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> Ooh..... my two current favorites are The Host by Stephenie Meyer and The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. I could give you a list, though.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What is the best compliment you've ever received?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> <a href="http://thus-quoth-me.blogspot.com/">Talia</a> told me I'm beautiful. It warmed my heart.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Favorite color of socks?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> Lime green. It's a weird color, but I like them.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">What do you want to be when you grow up//dream profession?</span></i></u></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> Ooh... that's a hard one.... I'd really like to do something. I don't know what exactly yet. (Underwater Basket Weaving)</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span></span><u><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Best class you've ever had. Why?</span></i></span></u></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> English 10 Honors with Gallagher. She's an amazing teacher. And she tells funny stories.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><br /><u><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?</span></i></u></span>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Right now, I kind of want to back to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terceira_Island">Terceria</a>. I want to see a <span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>touradas à corda</i></span> again.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>THE QUESTIONS</u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Where was your favorite vacation?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What do you enjoy about your life right now?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What is the color of your toothbrush?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What's your favorite part of the Oreo? Cookie or Cream?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Would you rather learn to speak Farsi or Creole?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Favorite Beatles song?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>THE PEOPLE</u><br />
<a href="http://jolynshort.blogspot.com/">Jolyn</a><br />
<a href="http://uniqueqasi.blogspot.com/">Kassie</a><br />
<a href="http://ashnahea.blogspot.com/">Ashli </a><br />
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-31985652753077821252012-06-25T20:11:00.001-07:002012-06-25T20:11:54.207-07:00Employment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5XP1CWWekwUkInHZufOT0sGKGXoxSUaJFOIm56_wsWQdJU_ZyLCLocG9KBcWYyXXA5VFkGIuAfdGGMjFp4MvvyP1pizZvG6mBlf2vVnbz75lLA58btq7GtUsx9yADF39a7jooftad-jl/s1600/DSCN1050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5XP1CWWekwUkInHZufOT0sGKGXoxSUaJFOIm56_wsWQdJU_ZyLCLocG9KBcWYyXXA5VFkGIuAfdGGMjFp4MvvyP1pizZvG6mBlf2vVnbz75lLA58btq7GtUsx9yADF39a7jooftad-jl/s320/DSCN1050.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Look who got a job!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Come visit me. I'll sell you pizza.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-7029720339525495712012-06-17T15:28:00.000-07:002012-06-17T15:28:00.336-07:00Morp.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSrlFjPvxPgNjn4KGYImLw6bjMFJpUYyIJo8Ux3YD6MJCW3fX7OlwLQT58s3EAeR1WxjPe47i3jk-1vNX_ycVoSFJIsYTj55UqndtB280TlyAQll9EVduAmaCza3_8DCMzXs2yyMgnCduI/s1600/morp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSrlFjPvxPgNjn4KGYImLw6bjMFJpUYyIJo8Ux3YD6MJCW3fX7OlwLQT58s3EAeR1WxjPe47i3jk-1vNX_ycVoSFJIsYTj55UqndtB280TlyAQll9EVduAmaCza3_8DCMzXs2yyMgnCduI/s1600/morp.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Superheroes. We went and saw Avengers for part of the date. Can you guess who we're supposed to be?</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-17343314184335892382012-06-10T16:49:00.000-07:002012-06-10T16:49:19.842-07:00Camp<div style="text-align: center;">
So... maybe we're crazy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just a bit.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Okay, maybe a lot.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/250714_422782057753819_306560117_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/250714_422782057753819_306560117_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Maybe we see pregnant deer, and maybe watch them walk through with their baby a few days later....</div>
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</div>
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/600690_482255398455045_896694876_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/600690_482255398455045_896694876_n.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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Maybe we write crazy and *slightly* inappropriate remakes of One Direction songs....</div>
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/542018_482252251788693_1829537421_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/542018_482252251788693_1829537421_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And maybe we paint the Bishop's and Bro. Melick's nails...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532757_422782994420392_688858769_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532757_422782994420392_688858769_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Maybe we eat plates of fruit while posing for the camera...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/205409_422784547753570_1791598741_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/205409_422784547753570_1791598741_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And maybe I let Chloe take pictures of me with my cherubic face and my greasy hair...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/556851_422789281086430_2014227956_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/556851_422789281086430_2014227956_a.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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And maybe we take long hikes...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/294903_422805707751454_1788775244_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/294903_422805707751454_1788775244_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And maybe we go on death-defying high-wire trips just to go zip-lining. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/403400_422810397750985_1946221954_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/403400_422810397750985_1946221954_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And maybe we go canoeing in leech infested waters....</div>
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<br /></div>
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Maybe this is Girls Camp...</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-70798905189555457942012-06-01T11:03:00.002-07:002012-06-01T11:03:44.490-07:00Advice Bits.<div style="text-align: center;">
Ladies, (and gentlemen), I am about to tell you something <i>nobody </i>ever bothered to explain to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If you are asking somebody on a date,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>CALL THEM.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Don't text them.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Let explain the problem with this to you: People always told me "Follow the Golden Rule. Treat others the way to want to be treated". So, since I actually prefer people to text me rather than to call me, I thought that this was all right. It wasn't.)</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-46742938099774864662012-05-27T18:43:00.002-07:002012-05-27T18:43:25.412-07:00Poem 4 U<u>The Bagpipe Who Didn't Say No by Shel Silverstein</u><br />
<br />
It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three<br />
When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shore-side by the sea,<br />
And the turtle said "My dearie,<br />
May I sit with you? I'm weary."<br />
And the bagpipe didn't say no.<br />
<br />
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "I have walked this lonely shore,<br />
I have talked to waves and pebbles- but I've never loved before.<br />
Will you marry me today, dear?<br />
Is it 'No' you're going to say, dear?"<br />
And the bagpipe didn't say no.<br />
<br />
Said the turtle to his darling, "Please excuse me if I stare,<br />
But you have the plaidest skin, dear,<br />
And you have the strangest hair.<br />
If I begged you pretty please, love,<br />
Could I give you just one squeeze, love?"<br />And the bagpipe didn't say no.<br />
<br />
Said the turtle to the bagpipe,<br />
"Ah, you love me. Then confess!<br />
Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest."<br />
And he cuddled her and teased her<br />
And so lovingly her squeezed her.<br />
And the bagpipe said "Aaooga."<br />
<br />
Said the turtle to the bagpipe,<br />
"Did you honk or bray or neigh?<br />
For 'Aaooga' when you're kissed is such a heartless thing to say.<br />
Is it that I have offended?<br />
Is it that our love is ended?"<br />And the bagpipe didn't say no.<br />
<br />
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Shall I leave you, darling wife?<br />Shall I waddle off to Woedom? Shall I crawl out of your life?<br />
Shall I move, depart, and go, dear?<br />Oh, I beg you tell me 'No', dear!"<br />
And the bagpipe didn't say no.<br />
<br />
So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more.<br />
And he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore.<br />
And some night when tide is low there,<br />
Just walk up and say "Hello, there,"<br />
And politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so.<br />
I assure you, darling children, that the bagpipe won't say "No".Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-55632703995203056642012-05-21T20:13:00.000-07:002012-05-21T20:13:04.541-07:00Updates<div style="text-align: center;">
Miss Carly had surgery today.<br />Guess what? She not going to die!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
*Yay!*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Morp was fun.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pictures to come soon.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Miss Emilee, all will be revealed in due time, due time)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And, I have my first non-dance date a week from Friday.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A wonderful boy named Russell is going to accompany me while we accompany Miss Eman on her first date.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yeah.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-49432115452195948492012-05-17T10:48:00.000-07:002012-05-17T10:48:01.686-07:00I'll admit... It's been a while.<div style="text-align: left;">
I promise you, all will be revealed. In due time.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I suppose I should start with birthday. It was amazing, to say the least. Because guess what??</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I now have tickets for this:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRtQdUAF9f2TtSmKxVFbGwcxdt_nGlrQBUtnbIKwlpD9xHEjZ1OSQ:2.bp.blogspot.com/-e87J55aTF3g/T3nMyUyFyYI/AAAAAAAAGnY/JPnTtyvdy5c/s1600/Les%2BMis.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRtQdUAF9f2TtSmKxVFbGwcxdt_nGlrQBUtnbIKwlpD9xHEjZ1OSQ:2.bp.blogspot.com/-e87J55aTF3g/T3nMyUyFyYI/AAAAAAAAGnY/JPnTtyvdy5c/s1600/Les%2BMis.gif" /></a></div>
Here:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSnE9UzMyqYLwWUAdyKbUpNgwtRyHDgan4I5vzCrwYMV4vnCMEZ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSnE9UzMyqYLwWUAdyKbUpNgwtRyHDgan4I5vzCrwYMV4vnCMEZ" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Yeah. My Fall Break is going be pretty epic.<br />That was Thursday.<br />
<br />
Friday, I was feeling crummy.<br />
So I went home during lunch.<br />
After I was home for a while, I was feeling better.<br />
I decided to eat an entire pint of Ben n' Jerry's.<br />
1200 calories of pure chocolate heaven, bebe.<br />
<br />
Saturday, went to a BYU Open Lab.<br />
It was more fun than normal chemistry, let me tell you that.<br />
That afternoon, PARTY!!!<br />
We ate pie. And drew with chalk. And got soaked.<br />
Oh yeah.<br />
That night, ballroom concert.<br />
Featuring my wonderful friends Sarah and Spencer.<br />
They're incredible dancers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Sunday, Mother's Day.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I love my mom</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Hi, Mom!*</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Monday morning, 2 am.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I threw up.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Twice. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>*Audience* Ewww!!!</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Yeah.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I sat up till 5 am because I couldn't get to sleep.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Finally got back to sleep.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Slept in till 8.</div>
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Felt crummy all day, but I went shopping with Carly, Arianna, and Madison.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
MORP!!!!!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Tuesday, back to school with me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Wednesday, teched for Scholars Night.<br />*Zzzzzz*</div>
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My friends went to Drama Banquet.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Beauty and the Beast, Peter Pan, Hamlet.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
SOO excited.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Today is Thursday.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There's a band concert tonight.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
5:30 for percussion.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
7:30 for band.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
:D </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-27528645528804892902012-05-04T13:02:00.001-07:002012-05-04T13:02:24.210-07:006 Days...<div style="text-align: center;">
I haven't blogged a lot.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I haven't had a whole lot of time.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I really want to see Avengers.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And Wicked.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Guess what's in 6 days?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No, guess.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Carly's been sick.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She's better(ish) now.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
DON'T DIE, CARLY!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
;)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That's about it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My life is boring. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-5464518784394227712012-04-27T16:53:00.001-07:002012-04-27T16:53:32.275-07:00I have a story to tell you.Guess what?<br />
I'm going to Morp.<br />
Want to hear the story about the guy I asked?<br />Even if you don't, I'll tell it anyways.<br />
Just don't read the rest of the post.<br />
<br />So, I'm on the computer, right? I'm trying to finish my English paper when date's sister starts chatting with me.<br />
I'm like "Okay, cool, I can ask her if she thinks he'd like to go".<br />
I ask her. She's like "Oh yeah, totally. Should I get him on so you can ask him?"<br />
I say OK, but inside I'm having a panic attack. <i>AUGH!!!</i><br />
She gets him. He's like, "What's up? I was told it was important."<br />
To which I replied "I wouldn't call it 'important,' but..." and I asked him.<br />
He says he'll check his calendar, which makes me palm my face, but guess what?<br />He said yes.<br />
<br />
There you go. Exciting, huh?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3668950893052224818.post-31383445297598676672012-04-24T21:15:00.000-07:002012-04-24T21:15:11.212-07:00Kentucky Cycle<div style="text-align: center;">
Kentucky Cycle.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Be there!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Be there!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Be there!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No seriously, come.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14479519616740641023noreply@blogger.com0