Christmas Odds and Ends

First item of business, I must apologize. I feel like a jerk. In my post about spending time, I totally forgot to mention some of my readers who do a ton of that for me! (Hi Aunt Kristi! Hi Aunt Kristen! Hi Aunt Carrissa! Hi Aunt Jody!) I love when they show up at our house because it means I can go collect all my dance pictures they haven't seen yet and all my poems or claymations or whatever and they will sit there and compliment me and smile at me and just make me feel like I really am something.

So, again, sorry for not returning the favor and forgetting!!!

Okay, so I know that Christmas is technically over, but too me it goes until New Years. So just bear with me as I stick to the Holly Jolly theme here, on December 26th.

If you've read my Mom's blog, you already know of the tree in my room that me and her have been working on this year.

It's been fun! And it's all been my brilliant mother's idea! It's amazing what a few pipecleaners can do to a room. But I think the funnest part was the Whoville we created this year. It became a process. I glued papers together, and my mother made it into something with sparkles, pipecleaners, stickers, you name it! And it must've been fun because even my little brother Nic joined in. His house (the one with the gingerbread man) though the smallest, was probably the heaviest. The thing was loaded with hot glue. I love that that kid! (In fact, I tell him so every night even though he suddenly acts like I don't exist :)

I plan on eventually adding the Grinch's mountain and a bunch of Whos, but that's next years' goal.

Usually on Christmas Eve night I can't fall asleep. But I'll confess, I was out in about ten minutes after hitting my bed. I did however, wake up at 4:30 that morning for two reasons: I forgot to eat dinner and was hungry, and pure, childish excitement! That and Nic , also unable to sleep, turned on the T.V. in the other room and I thought it was my parents were coming to wake us up to open presents. When I found out what it really was, I fell back on my pillow. There was no way I was going to fall asleep now. Not after that rush of excitement. And then I remembered that I usually read my scriptures in the morning.

I've been commanded my the prophet, the general young women's president, my bishop, my seminary teacher, and my stake president to read my scriptures daily. I replayed the busy events that were about to unfold that day and decided if I didn't read now, they'd never get read.

So, by the light of my cell phone, I decided to read of Christ's birth, determined to find something I hadn't noticed before. And you know what? With the help of prayer, I did.

I always wondered: If there was a big, shiny, new star in the sky, concourses of singing angels, and shepards up and leaving their flocks, how come virtually no one in Bethlehem noticed? The place wasn't that big. And yet, the only people besides the shephards who were aware were the wisemen, who lived in the East.

Then, after a moment of pondering, it clicked. They weren't paying attention. It was a busy time with Ceaser's proclomation, and they were too caught up in their own affairs. I quickly surveyed my own life. Was I the same way? Was I too caught up my own affairs to not notice the miracles? The angels in my life? The bright, guiding stars? The savior?

I determined to be like the wisemen: searching, expecting, and focused no matter how far away I seemed.

A spiritual lesson at 4:30 a.m. in my own bedroom. Maybe those leaders of mine know a thing or two about what they're talking about.

Merry Christmas to you Who's, the tall and the small!

I was once told that Mary was probably my around age. Can you imgaine??? I can't. But I think it just goes to show that the more impossible our trials may seem, the more miraculous the blessings are.

I LOVE this holiday!!! I love it more than my birthday! The music, the mood, the food, the smells, the traditions, the decorations, the lights, the good movies they show on T.V., picking up and looking at every little peice in every little nativity set I see, all the family that comes around, the cute scarfs and fuzzy socks I get to pull out and wear, the heartwamring stories, lighting up the place by telling people from the postmaster to customers and the concession stands 'merry Christmas!', being allowed to wear a santa hat through the halls of school, getting in trouble for putting up countdown sighns (long story), I just LOVE IT!!! Have a very merry Christmas!!!

Time's Tribute

I have what my mom likes to call my 'entorage' or my 'cronies' or even my 'little fan club.' It consists of all my younger cousins, our neighbor's kids, and even a few of their friends. In fact, I'm pretty sure one of them is reading this right now (Hi Rissi!) I'm not sure how it came about besides the fact that I refuse to grow up in some ways (okay, lots of ways) I do what they do because, well, what fun is sitting around visiting with the 'grown-ups' when you can still get away with going outside and defeating 'bad-guys' or scaling castle walls or reporting to secret agent headquaters? (I get story ideas from these things--no joke!) I know I can't get away with it forever, but in the meantime...

I love them all! I was once a nominee for homecoming and was riding in the back of a truck during the parade all dressed up pretty and professional when suddenly, from the sparse crowd we all heard an enthusiastic, "HI DOLLY!!!" I laughed and waved back. Then another "HEY DOLLY!!!" and another and another. My fellow nominees began to laugh too and give me a few curious looks, but I think I was smiling to big to answer.



There are times though, when I walk away from a game feeling like a jerk for various reasons. It's not like I'm some super-awesome person who just attracts kids like a picnic does flies. It's more like they're super-awesome kids who willingly accept a teen like me who needs their childlike simplicity to bring me out of my highschool drama and back down to earth. I once asked my mom how I even deserved such honored attention from such sweet spirits.

"I don't get it," I sighed, "Why do they get so excited when I show up." I most definatly wouldn't.

"It's how you make them feel," she wisely replied.



I thought about that a lot that day. How did I make them feel? It's not like I showered them with compliments. I mean, I gave a few here and there and could probably work and doing that more. I was nice to them, but so is everyone else. All I really did was be myself. Then it clicked: Time.



I've come to believe that time is probably one of the best compliments you can give someone. I have two older cousins probably reading this right now (Hi Julianne! Hi Alicia!) that taught me how to even do all these things. Julianne once played Barbies with me and I still remember which ones are the ones she gave me because I remember her playing with them. Alicia has taught me how to make AMAZING crafts that I would've never even thought of even though it took most her afternoon and she has two small kids. And those creations are still sitting in my room, proudly atop of my windowsill.

I look up to those guys and just knowing that they care enough to give their time still makes my day. Shoot, just the fact that they take the time to read this blog is one of the reasons I keep it going!
I think, thought, that this gift is one of the reasons we love our parents so much or those true friends. Same goes for school teachers, neighbors, the guy at the check-out window who was willing to fix your order.

And, of course, our Savior who spent his entire lifetime for us.




That ought to make us feel at least a little special.

In retrospect...

Remember that whole rearview mirror incident? Well I'm really beginning to think it happened to teach me more than simply paying attention (trust me, not even the best of school teachers have reached that feat).

You see, my dad's friend gave him a free replacement (and I wanted to give him a free hug--no more "500 bucks" comin' out o' my underfed wallet!) We painted it to match the rest of the car and my dad graciously attatched it. We still have to fix it though because it's aimed too far up and all I can really see in it is the sky; which, obviously, doesn't help me much unless I were birdwatching-on-the-go or trying to escape a bunch of 'bad-guy' helicoptors that were after me.

The other thing about it is that it's tinted. And I'm not complaining--for someone who just spent all her $40 yesturday in Target, this thing just saved my finanacial behind. No, this is just a big hinting detail as to what I'm getting at.

I sorta glanced at it the other day on my way to school and I got one of those weird epiphanies that this blog runs on. (Yep, here she goes again...)

Rearview mirrors look back, right? (I most certianly hope so.) Well I got to thinking about how one of my mirrors is crystal clear, reflecting every ray of sunshine, and how the other one puts a sort of dark, haunted tinge on everything. In english, when we decide to take a stroll down memory lane, what memories do we bring up?

I have a book by John Bytheway (one of my favorite youth speakers) called "How to Be Totally Miserable. A self-hinder book" that illustrates this perfectly.

"There you are, faced with a pile of videos labeled 'memories' and a VCR called your brain. Hmmm, which tape should you play? It depends on whether your trying to be happy or miserable. If your trying to be happy, play the ones that give you hope and make you laugh! If you're trying to be miserable, play and replay the tapes of your past mistakes. Relieve all the less-than-good times as if they had value. It's a ridiculous strategy; but that's what miserable people do. As with all other video selections, you have a choice. Happy people sometimes replay a sad memory, but they have the motto, 'Be kind, don't rewind'. If they've done something stupid in their past, they repent, refocus, rewind, and re-record something else over that bad memory. As Stephen R. Covey might say, 'They live out of their imagination, not out of their memory.' Miserable people watch the tape again and again until they're depressed. They don't realize that their past doesn't define their future.'

Two parrells! How's that for one post? Anyways, I guess I'll end with another quote by one of the Latter-Day Saint Church Authorities who's name I shamefully can't quite remember,

"The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is now, live in it."

"This one makes a net, This one stands and wishes. Would you like to bet, which one get's the fishes?"

I'm thankful for a ton of things! Fuzzy socks, trampolines, snow, sunsets, chips and salsa, good music, good books, VeggieTales, the color orange, icecream, Apples to Apples, Christmas trees, my car, my own room, the gospel, of course my family and friends--and the the list goes on and on. But what I would like to write about is something you probably don't usually hear from someone my age:

Work.

Yes, you read right. I'm thankful for work. "Duty is Joy" as I once heard somone say. And that's so true! A whole afternoon of videogames just doesn't give you the same satisfaction that an afternoon of raking leaves does. Trust me, I would know.

All by myself folks! My mom is good at teaching us kids to step back and survey the job well done when we're done in order to get the full satisfaction of it. Well, at this point I wasn't even half way there, but it was still motivating enough to finish it up.

And my Mom isn't the only one. My dad is AMAZING at this! I once saw his schedule and...yeah, that's a whole different blog post.

It seems to run in the family. You see, I have one grandpa who works harder now that he's retired than he ever did when he was employed. (and that's saying something!) The other grandpa is probably going to ride his tractor right out of this life and into the next. Their wives are no different, tirelessly working alongside them.

Yes, I'm thankful for work. The grass stains, the callouses, the slivers, the sore muscles, the bleach stains, the button on the vaccum that self-coils the cord back, the flour-coated apron, the smell of 'clean', the good night's rest afterwards, the whole nine yards! I mean just think of the tough, enduring pilgrims--the founding father's of this holiday!

Once Upon a Time...

This week I have done TurboJam with my friends. This week I am sore. This week I couldn't think of squat (or I guess you could say anything but squatting).

That is, until I remembered an inspired poem my older cousin and role-model Alicia wrote. And since she's already bragged a little about me on her blog, I'm gonna return the favor! So here it goes: a great remedy for those days when you feel like Flint Lockwood from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and want to throw yourself in a trash can because, well, 'you can't run away from your own feet.'

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time,

So we've heard it told

Lived an ordinary woman

Who longed for jewels and gold.

She cried, "My face is plain!

And my person lacks finesse.

My shoes are old and worn,

To say nothing of my dress."

"I have not any friends

And who am I to blame?

I'd not cast my lot with me.

I'm simply...a cesspool of shame."

And so she carried on

Thinking no one could hear her.

She never could have known

There was a man standing near her.

"Rubbish!" He cried aloud.

Causing the maiden to start.

"Who say are you?" she asked

Placing a hand atop her heart.

"Who are YOU?" he echoed

Making the air around them shake.

"Are you a blessed Child of God

Or nature's finest mistake?"

He gave the maiden pause

She couldn't think to reply.

Instead she settled for a tear

And a desperately long sigh.

The man looked on in awe

Asking, "Woman, don't you know

You were masterfully created,

Built to learn and built to grow."

"So I've heard," was her reply,

"But I've yet to see the reason.

Nothing great will come of me

As I pass away the seasons."

"How can you know?" asked he

"If you've never kissed a frog?

Sometimes greatness lies beneath

A reptile perched on a log."

"A frog!" The woman cried

"Now that's an awful thought!

There's NO WAY it will help me,

Is that all you've got?"

"No it's not," the man replied

"But perhaps you don't want to hear.

I've got eight values I can share

I hold them sacred and dear."

"The first is a frog.

It's your faith he'll test.

Do you have the faith

To give up good for best?"

"Faith is the ability

To trust, believ, and know

that though they're very ugly

Certain frogs can make you glow."

"I like that," the woman said,

"Maybe you ARE right.

Maybe I should trsut in God.

And not just judge from first sight."

The man nodded his head saying

"You're starting to glow already!

I've got seven more to share,

Hold your bearings steady."

The man reached down into a bag,

And pulled out a crown.

The woman's eyes lit up,

Chasing away her pouty frown.

"Is that for me?" she gasped,

Her eyes upon the crown's jewels.

"It can be," replied the man,

"It's one of the eight tools."

"You've got one on you,

Or so it appears,

In fact you already had it

For many, many years."

This crown is a symbol

Of you nature divine.

For you are a crowned daughter

Of the highest King most fine.

Perhaps you can not see it.

But I promise if you try,

You'll find your divine nature

Is where your royalty lies."

He placed the crown upon her head

And handed her a mirror.

"Tell me," he spoke again,

"What do you see in here."

She said, "I see a woman, plain.

I see a crown, most fair
And I see a warty frog,

And unremarkable hair."

"Look a little longer," he said,

"See what you've had since birth.

Try to look past your skin

To find your individual worth.

"You're valued most highly

By your father, the King.

Your soul is worth far more

Than anything riches can bring."

"My soul?" she asked into the mirror

As if waiting for reply.

"I've never given it much thought,

But as you wish, I'll comply."

"It's not enough," he said,

"To simply sit and look."

With that he reached into his bag

Anbd from it, two gloves took.

"Your future lies in what you do

And in choices you shall make.

You must be held accountable

For every good and all mistakes.

Wear these gloves day in - day out.

They'll serve to remind you.

To make the best choices offered

And leave the bad behind you.

In leaving bad you shall find

A bright and happy tomorrow.

Your life will lose all lifelessness

And be spared great sorrow.

"And this," the man held up a wond.

"Can really bring you beauty.

Take it with you everywhere

To do good works beyond duty.

"Magically making good appear

In the lives of all around

Is why you have been sent to earth

And why you have been crowned.

"Love on another," said thy King.

Its written in His book.

It's here for you, young lady fair,

Come hither, take a look.

"there's much to read and learn

Inside these books and pages

The words are immortal

Standing the test of all the ages.

"But it's not enough," he said.

"To simply sit and read.

You've got to put on your shoes,

To see where the books lead.

"Knowledge is what the shoes will bring

A value much higher than gold.

Set your feet to learning

And watch a new world unfold."

The young woman admitted.

"A new world sounds just fine.

I think it's time to leave behind

This vain perspective of mine."

He said, "Now you've got it!

And perhaps now can see

Why these eight values

Mean so very much to me."

"We've covered six so far,

Integrity will make for seven.

She who holds integrity

Is a priceless pearl in Heaven."

As he spoke those words of truth,

He strung her neck with pearls.

She knew then her vaule lied

In her heart and not her curls.

"Your King does much," he continued

"With a woman pure in heart.

Who is as pure in the end

As she was at the very start

"I speak now of the last value,

A robe of virtue you must wear.

With it fastened 'round your being,

Your beauty is beyond compare.

"Your purity is evident

It shines out from within.

With these eight values by your side

Every battle you shall win."

Again the man turned to her

Moving the mirror to her face.

She said, "I see a woman,

A pure vessle of God-like Grace."

"But who are you?" the woman asked.

"I feel we know each other."
He rplied, "And so we do,

I'm Jesus Christ, your brother."

Mountains of Rock and Mountains of Jell-O

Our tiny business class of less than ten students went on a field trip Friday to a very official-sounding business conference. Funny thing is, what I took from it had nothing to do with incomes or partnerships, rather it was more of a perspective.

I'm a small town girl. I wore my t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers and even wore my hair in ponytails--no hairspray required. The conference was in a big city so from the get-go I felt like a sloppy raggamuffin and could've sworn someone pulled the 'elevator-eyes' on my outfit, but that wasn't really what bothered me.

No, what really hit me was as soon as we entered the enormous room the opening was to be held in, a heavy wave of obnoxious, over-bassed music hit us full in the face. Though it was all popular songs in my peer group, I already knew that they were far from complimenting. Most of them had sleazy themes and I began to feel really uncomfortable as 'the business leaders of the future' began dancing, yelling, singing at the top of their voices, and even standing on top of their chairs.

Of course, these were my fellow reckless teenagers so it didn't completely shock me. But when I turned my head and saw one of the leaders of the convention dancing--and later saw him go up to the front and encourage all the chaos--my eyes really widened.

Remember, I'm a small town girl. A 'little Mormon town' girl where you see your highschool teachers at church. Maybe for some of you things like this are in everyday life, but I believe it was my first lick at culture shock.

Maybe I'm a little too cushioned by the little 'bubble' I live in to really know what I'm talking about, but I'm at least going to try.

You see, I've been exposed to amazing leaders. Ones who know you by name and thank you personally for your efforts, are strong enough to admit their own shortcomings, pace the floor and pray late into the night for you, tell you the direction you should go and follow that direction themselves. They'll laugh with you just as soon as they'd cry with you. Somehow, they're always there because, to them, presiding over means watching over. They have already decided what they will and won't put up with and hold fast to it; like my Seminary teacher who kept us a few minutes after the school bell rang because what we were learning then, he told us, was more important.

That's my definition of leader.

What I saw at the conference were intelligent, good-intended men and women. They were trying to lead youth down a successful path in their future--something we probably need a lot of in this world. But it just seemed strange to me that they had to try and make it attractive to us teens.

Of course you want to personalize your message to your audience, but that doesn't mean you have to give into your audience's standards. I mean, just look at all those prophets. Had they given in to all the harsh treatment of their hard-hearted crowds, their message wouldn't have been near as effective.

Like I said, I have a bit of a limited perspective and I haven't been hired to critique the conference or anything, its just an interesting contrast I saw and it made me immensly grateful for the people in my life who, title or not, are my leaders.

Good Things of the Earth

I had a lousy dream last night. I really disslike when that happens because then you wake up with not only morning breath, but an attitude that reaks just as bad, if not worse.

So, after saying my slighty distracted morning prayer, I looked down and saw my scriptures sitting on the side of my bed.

You should read those.

...I'll do it later. I'm busy wallowing in self-pity right now.

Oh c'mon. It's fast sunday. What are you going to do until then, stare at your favorite cereal box?

True. No one was up yet so there really wasn't anything else of worth I could do. And besides, from experience, usually whenever I don't feel like doing something I should probably do, it means I really need to do it.

So, rembering I was going to try and fast for a little more self-mastery anyways, I reached down, grabbed my scriptures, snuggled up in my twisted mess of blankets, and turned to where I left on in my Seminary reading: Doctrine and Covenants, section 59.

And guess what? I needed it.

It really helped turn my frown upside down with verses like 15-17 and 19-20,

"Verily I say, that insasmuch as you do this (fasting and prayer with a glad heart and a cheerful countenance--isn't that a coinkadink.) the fulness of the earth is yours, the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air, and that which climbeth upon the trees and walketh upon the earth; Yea, and the herb, and the good things which come of the earth, whether for food or for raiment or orchards, or for gardens, or for vinyards... for taste and for smell, to strenghten the body and to enliven the soul. And it pleaseth God that he hath given all these things unto man; for unto this end were they made to be used, with judgement, not to excess, neither by extortion."

Its fall so all those beautiful yellow, orange, and pink leaves came to mind as well as good, wholesome music, family, friends, scriptures, homemade panakes, warm fireplaces, the smell of baking bread, feeling the breeze in ones hair, smiles, laughs, good books, inspiring artwork, getting a handwritten letter, icecream, service projects, hugs, fun pets, ingenious inventions, the smell of spring, clean jokes, wearing your favorite t-shirt, true love--just all those 'good things which come of the earth' chased that grumpy attitude up the street and around the corner, never to be seen again--at least that's the goal.

What really hit home, though, is that it 'pleaseth God that he hath given all these things unto man.' If 'men are that they might have joy', then it only stands to reason that he'd give us all these amaaazing blessings for our happiness. Of course, they can be used in excess or extortion--which eventually brings misery--but it's just satisfying to know that maybe it wasn't just a coincidence that someone smiled at you yesterday, or that butterfly fluttered past you as you angrily tramped through your yard, or the book you read just 'enlivened' your soul, or even the ambitious invention of the lightbulb that, if you think about it, has brought you a plethera of other blessings.

It ended with this, "But learn that he who doeth the works of rightesouness shall recieve his reward, even peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come. I, the Lord, have spoken it, and the Spirit beareth record. Amen."

I once heard a quote, "We can't break the commandments, we can only break ourselves against them." Doing whats right, believe it or not, brings joy and peace both now and in the long run. Doing whats wrong doesn't.

Just some food for thought.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween everyone!! We interrupt this blog to announce the creation of another one! If you are bored, have nothing better to do, or are simply trying to kill time then we've got the perfect solution: http://www.anneliesstories.blogspot.com/ Its just a blog that has Dolly's first attempts at writing...(heheh). Critiques desperatly needed, Compliments naturally wanted. There's also her friend's stories on http://www.deidrahansen.blogspot.com/ which she highly recommends! (But hey, I'm just lucky you read this one. I probably shouldn't push it.)


Anyways, Halloween has been great this year! I dressed up like a viking, using my dad's real deer fur, lots of leather belts, my boots, a borrowed hat, and a borrowed toy sword that goes from the floor to my shoulder! My inspiration...


I took my little brother trick-or-treating since my mom had to help my other brother with his class station at the carnival and some maniac in a mask really scared him. I'll just say I began to feel my big-sisterly instincts creep in and I almost wanted to tear his mask off and say, "Hey, the kid's four; give him a break!" But I figure that's just part of Halloween.

After everything, I went with some friends to a church dance where you got to wear your costume. On ladies' choice I asked a guy who was dressed like a missionary and discovered he likes to write too :) Two other people asked me to dance and four people asked if they could play with my weapon. My conclusion of the night, "They only like me for my sword."

My one friend (the one who's blog I just advertised) was driving and when she dropped the other one off we began talking about one of the guys who had been following her around at the dance--the newest member of her fan club. I jokingly told her that and she chuckled mirthlessly saying she wasn't even in her fan club. My humble friend then began to tell me of the trial of being the girl who somehow always got the guy. With a roll of her eyes she explained how they didn't know the half of her and how awkward things can get. She described annoying text messages, unwanted drama, and how much she couldn't wait for the goofy highschool stages to be overwith and for everyone to grow up.
Call it hormones, teenagers, drama, or all the above, by the end of that ride I suddenly didn't feel so bad for only dancing with a few people. I had a paradigm shift.

I once heard a quote, "If the grass is greener on the otherside it must rain a lot more over there." This seemed to illustrate it. We look around at some people and naturally think they have everything. But I've come to see what may be one of the reason's God is 'no respector of persons'. We all have the same amount of problems as well as blessings, though they may come in many different shapes and forms. I also heard someone talk of how if we all got together and threw our problems into a pile in order to trade them, we'd all rush for our own because we wouldn't want anyone elses.

So let us enjoy the blessings we have and problems that we don't.

Lessons I Learned as a Boy

I don't know about you, but I thought I could use some cheering up today so i visited good ol' youtube. (This may take a few posts and I originally meant this one to be last so if you want you can just go to the archives on your left and click on them from the bottom to the top.)

In the Spirit of Thanksgiving

Woodchucks - GEICO Commercial

Piggy - GEICO Commercial

VeggieTales - VeggieTales: Pizza Angel

Kid History - Episode 1

JULIAN SMITH - Brag Call

Mormon ad: Swasbuckling

"The best thing anyone can have up their sleeve is a good funny bone"

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were going camping. They pitched their tent under the stars and went to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night Holmes woke Watson up and said, "Watson, look up at the stars, and tell me what you see."

Watson said, "I see a fantastic panorama of countless stars."

Holmes said, "And what do you deduce from that?"

Watson replied, "Astronomically, it suggests to me that if there are billions of other galaxies that have roughly similiar stellar population densities as represented by my view, that, potentially, trillions of planets may be associated with such a galactic and, therefore, stellar population. Allowing for for similiar chemical distribution throughout the cosmos it may be reasonably implied that life--and possibly intelligent life--may well fill the universe.

Theologically, it tells me that the vastness of space may be yet another suggestion of the greatness of God and that we are small and insignificant.

Meteorologically, the blackness of the sky and the cripsness of the stellar images tells me that there is a low humidity and stable air and therefore we are most likely to enjoy a beautiful day tommorrow."

"Watson, you idiot, someone stole our tent!"

Patience and Me

Lately I've been feeling kinda...pathetic. I do things without thinking (which has yet to prove useful), break a lot of little promises to myself (which really add up), then there's always the self-conciousness of the three pimples on my chin among other silly things. So I guess I've been feeling like a teenager (nothing too unnatrual I hope).

I vented in my actual jounal about it and then kinda wished I didn't because if my posterity ever read it I'm afraid they'd say something along the lines of, "I'm related to this space case?" To which I would reply, concerning my three new companions, "Actually, its face-case."

My friend told me at a recent slumberparty that in China, blondes (like me) are considered lucky, to which I jokingly replied, "I beg to differ."

So while I was hopelessly spiraling down this path of...patheticness, I decided to go to a Halloween-themed church dance. I went dressed as a witch and actually felt pretty confident (meaning I asked the new kid his name, asked a couple of wall-plants to dance, and jumped into just about every line dance there was). But I think that was due to something that came to me in my car as I was driving there, muttering angrily to myself over some other choice that lacked the sufficient amount of brain cells to follow through successfully.

Then all of a sudden, a shred of rare intelligence came to me and I realized that though I was striving to follow my Savior's example in every which way or form, there was one I was forgetting--patience. If after the trillions upon trillions of mistakes I've made, I can still feel His warming arms around me after a heart-filled prayer and if my family and friends--whom I also look up to--are so patient and loving towards me than maybe I should follow their example and also be patient with me.

Pride and Batteryjuice

I have a car. A sweet one too. Maybe it's just because its mine and I left my own clumsy mark on it (the mirror is still in the process of being repaired), but I like it. I call it my Granny Car with pride--espeacially when I just feel like crusin' five miles under the speed limit because I know I can get away with it. My little brother illustrated this well when we couldn't decide what radio station to listen to, us having immensly different tastes, and so he turned it to some Beethoven mess saying, "it fits this car" and making me feel for the world like I was in one of those really old movies.

Yeah, I dig my Buick.

It also has this nifty little ability to keep its lights on just long enough for you to haul in the groceries or to avoid tripping over the neighbor's toy truck on your way the door. This was something I took for granted until the other day at school.

"Your lights are on."

"Yeah," I curtly nodded, "They'll go off in a minute."

A moment later,

"Hey, your lights are on."

"I know. They'll go off in a little bit."

"Your lights--"

"Yeah, I know."

What were these people's problem? I stubbornly thought to myself, I think I know my own car, thank you very much!

So imagine my frustration when, shortly after having gotten home from...something that's must've not been important enough for me to remember, my dear friend texts me and says, "Hey, ur lights r on."

"What the snoodles?" I asked aloud, drawing my Mom's attention.

"Actually," she muttered, "They should've turned off by now."

She had a point. So, rolling my eyes at myself, I replied with a "thx" and headed out to see that my lights were, indeed, on.

Later that night, after reflecting on my foolish pride over something so silly and taking my friends' concern for granted, I still found my thoughts wandering in the same direction over something else of little concequence. Then, from my good-natured concious came the thought: Gees, Annelie, turn your lights off.

Homecoming

As you can tell by the less-than-creative title, I shall be reminiscing about how Homecoming went, for all you who are interested. For those who aren't, bear with me; I should have a more profound post Wednesday-ish.

As the tradition goes, at least in my school, the girls where their date's practice jerseys to school and then to the game. I thought it no different for me so I got thinking. When it came to football, my date didn't play quaterback, runningback, or any other sort of back--he played the trumpet. (And he's stinkin' good at it to. Did I mention during one game our small band opted out on him and he had to play a solo?) Anyway, so I got thinking...

It was during my fitness class when I was doing yoga--I believe in the middle of the "boat pose"(not the shower this time)--that the idea struck. Afterschool I rushed to the small town choir teacher/band teacher/elementry music teacher/Local D.J./Jr. High Football coach to ask if I could steal one of those fancy, oversized, nerdy band jackets. He said "Yeah." I said "Thanks."

And this is what I did with it: (that's paper by the way. I would have my head through a trombone if it was permanent.)

And, just for the full effect, here's the front. I still haven't figured out what that little rope thing on the shoulder is for...

I discovered a social skill through all this--at least in my school. If you drive an interesting car to school on your first day of having a license, accidentally mix up nerd day with just an ordinary monday, or wear a blue and gold portable sweat room to class, you do it with pride! Then people will look at you and say--hey, that's kinda cool. If you do it with slumped shoulders and eyes down, then they tease you. It's just something I've noted throughout my highschool career--so I strutted this thing!

And it made my date laugh really hard and brag to someone about it who was wondering if I had a loose screw or something--making it totally worth it!

Then there was the dance. After rushing around like a chef without a salad, I thew on my outfit, plastered on some make-up, showered myself in hairspray, and practiced in my new highheels before texting him that I was ready. He was too and said he'd be there in a minute, opening the latch to my internal butterfly cage.

"There he is!" my mom greeted as she opened the door. I grabbed my phone and clip-clopped down the hall.

Now, ladies and gents, (especially gents) I really appreciated the slight rise of the eybrows and smile I got. It made stressing over modesty so worth it! It was the same with prom with the soft "woa!" or just the pleased grin. So go for it guys, compliment your wives, your daughters (I loved when my Dad told me I looked nice), your sisters, your friends--I'm sure they'll appreciate it too.

So then, after my mom's photo shoot (which I'm sure you'll see more of soon), we went over to my date's house for his mom's photo shoot--then it was off to the dance!

We were the first date there...its a good thing we established before hand that we both really like dances....

The music was...alright. There were a few good songs here and there, but otherwise it was just rap junk (no offense to those of you who like it, I just don't appreciate the lyrics.) So me and my date decided to reccomend the hokey-pokey. Yeah, we rock like that.

After the dance--which ended up really being a blast--we went to my ward's bishop's house for waffles! Him and his wife are amazing! Who stays up until 2:00 a.m. making waffles for a rowdy bunch of teenagers? They do. And they're good at it too!

It was then, after laughing and joking with our fellow attendees for awhile after having finished the best thing I've ever eaten that late, I discovered my date needed to get up at 7 for a choir thing. So, deciding I was tired too, we left. He walked me to my doorstep and I gave him a hug, as what happens on every other date I've been on. But I knew this one was fun because as I was getting ready to say my prayers and turn in, I saw the jacket hanging on my chair and felt kind of bummed that it was over.

But hey, I'd see him in Monday. And--my favorite part about dating--I just added another friend to my list.

Wind Speeds and You

A quote I heard today from a very wise (and hilarious) man named Deiter F. Uchtdorf said, "Its amazing what you can learn about life from nature." And I whole-heartedly agree!!

Like today, for example, I was riding my bike (against our small town's notorious wind) when I noticed a bird flying overhead. I love watching birds. If I didn't get so stir-crazy so easily I could probably be a pretty good bird watcher, but that's besides the point.

Anyways, I didn't just see the bird, I noticed what it was doing; flying with the wind. How smart, I noted, pushing my pedals even harder and ducking my head to get another foot or two. Obviously going against it wasn't working so well. Which got me thinking...

We have winds, if you will, or trials that come our way and we have two choices. Either we can fight and curse and spit and avenge and wrestle our way against them wondering why it had to blow our direction and how much we didn't deserve it OR we can accept it, spread our wings, and try our best. Afterall, its these winds that can carry us faster across the sky than we ever could in the first place. These trials, if handled the right way, can stretch us and build us into better...birds per say, and we can fly our skies at a better rate than we could before.

So, in closing, as another amazingly wise man, Joseph B. Wirthlin, said, "Come what may and love it!"

Sam's Club Secret-Agent-Dress-Shoppers

I went shopping for my homecoming dress today. Easier said than done--just ask my mother. You see, I live the by the principal of modesty. Sound like a joke in this world? Probably. But there is a method to this madness.

We, being the Latter-Day Saints, have a pamphlet titled For the Strength of Youth that spells out His standards for us teenagers, "Your body is God's sacred creation. Respect it as a gift from God, and do not defile it in any way. Through your dress and appearance, you can shoe the Lord that you know how precious your body is. You can show that you are a disciple of Jesus Christ." It later says, "Ask yourself, 'would I feel comfortable with my appearance if I were in the Lord's presence?"

Not in them 'dresses', no! I had to really look at the tag to make sure they weren't shirts. And then if you were lucky enough to find one that went past your thighs, it was cut too low at the top. And don't even get me started on sleeves.

So finally we settled for a really cute red shirt and a grey skirt that reached my knees--and it looked cuter than all the dresses put together!

But, you must understand, this is more than a boring rule. Here, let me use another metaphore; street signs. You can think them as too limiting and disobey them for the sake of pleasure and get yourself in a wreck, or you can see them as a pointer towards safety and have a nice, comfortable ride.

When trying on a few dresses to see if they were really that bad--only to see that they were--I didn't like the feeling. Sure maybe they were cute but...ugh, I just didn't like it. I didn't feel like the daughter of that God I am and had this sick, twisted sense of worldly satisfaction creeping in--blagh!

When I wore the more modest outfit, however, I felt...pretty. Beautiful even. Not really vain, just deserving. Like I was clean and sure of myself and like I didn't need the world's sleazy styles to feel accepted--because I don't. And trust me, that was the feeling I was aiming for. That's what's going to make that dance enjoyable and fun is feeling sure of myself and feeling my Heavenly Father's approval.



Oh, and I guess I should mention my other motivation: I'm lucky enough to have a date who wouldn't have it any other way. He would've felt very uncomfortable if I had chosen the other options. It was the same with my dates to Prom and Sadie's. We have some amazing young men in our town!!



Haha, then there was the other part of the trip. I was assighned to watch my baby brother in the huge block of isles called Sam's Club. But this takes more than sight. It takes hearing, patience, sense of humor, optomism, imagination, fair physical health, good running shoes, loud hollering voice, list of excuses to tell those who question, and just about all you've got.



He wanted to play spies. So, deciding it was better than just yelling at him to slow down, I gradually got over myself and ducked practically into the freezer of frozen meat when 'someone was coming'--that someone being an employee. We then ducked behind each isle until the 'coast was clear' and then sprinted to the next one--even right in front of people--trumpeting the James Bond theme song the entire way until we found my mom.

It was great! I'm thankful for two little brothers who keep my life in perspective--one who keeps me in check and another who yanks me out of my comfort zone--and for parents who put up with all of it.

Dance Par-tay!!

I think every teenage girl who ever gets that pleading phone call to come and babysit has a different definition of the word. For some its simply, "great..." For others, its "Alright, ten bucks here I come!" And then there's those whose definition is in the word: babysitting. They click on the T.V. and make sure the kids are at least alive when their parents come home, yelling at them from behind their cellphones. As for me, it's an invintation to a party just waiting to happen.

I had to watch my baby brother the other day, for example, and we held yet another one of our many dance sessions. And, of course, what's a dance session without costumes?

(Those are the gym shorts I borrow from my other little brother by the way. I wasn't lying.)

I have a plethera of hats hanging on my wall and, I have to admit, this kid looks better in all of them than I do! He's lucky I love him so much.

This brings me to another subject: What I want to be when I grow up. When I was younger I, for whatever reason, ambitiously dreamed of being a zookeeper. That, however, has now been replaced by the thoughts of perhaps becoming an author or, if that bellyflops, an elementry teacher.

There is one dream, however, that hasn't changed. My preschool teacher had a whole pile of coloring pages of different occupations (e.g. fireman, ballerina, police officer, vet) but she didn't have mine. She tried to convince me to be something else--at least for the class time--but I was so determined of this that she eventually surrendered and went all the way back to her house to print out the picture I requested. (I know, kind of jerkish of me.)

What is that dream, you ask? Well, though the movie's a tad corny, I think the song illustrates it well...

Woo Hoo!! Thanks for your AWESOME example Mom!!!!!! Your the inspiration for this dream.

Pastries, Poles, and Parrelles

After this week I truly believe that everyday is an adventure just waiting to unfold. Why? Well, let's start with Monday...

I was still reeling from piano lessons where I had performed a song I had sort of remixed myself--while singing it--when I went back to pick up my little brother for school. Upon backing out of the driveway, looking right for cars, there was a sickening crunch!! from the left. Not even six days after getting my licence, ladies and gentlemen, and already my sidevew mirror now dangles off the side of my door like a banner warning all drivers of poles and their uncanny ability to leap out at people. And my little brother, always the optomist of the family, turned over to me stone-faced and said, "I can't believe your laughing. That probably cost like 500 bucks." Yes, I can always count on that kid to yank me back to reality. That's probably why he was sent to this family after me because someone decided I could use a daily dose of humble pie.
And then, still reeling from that, I opened my locker door at school to find a suspicious looking box of pasteries. Taking it out, I find a clever note asking me to the upcoming dance. Chortling to myself, I turned to see the young man in question, his Dad (who's a teacher) and his friend all right there.
Then I went to Seminary, where I tragically discovered I had forgotten my scriptures.

Later that week, we went to the fair where I fell into peer pressure and went on the zipper for the first time... I screamed my lungs out while he laughed his head off and by the time we got off I couldn't move my hands they were tingling so bad. But boy was it fun!!!!

Even later, I washed my poor car with my little brothers and learned the hard way never to give a four year old the hose. (I told my cousin--who's younger than me by three years--and she nonchalantly told me that should be a given. Make that two doses.)

So I was sitting in the car yesturday, staring out the window, and thinking of what to write this week when I began to see parrellels in some of these stories. And, as you can probably tell, I just love parrallels!

The car story, I've decided, can sort of represent us. Let's face it, life has poles...and curbs, and trees, and signs, and, in some cases, garage doors that just seem to jump out at us when we least expect it. We get scratched, scraped, bumped, dented, and broke and there comes the option of going to a mechanic to fix us up. But how many of us actually do it? How many of us are do-it-yourselfers and simply refuse to get professional help? Or do we simply throw 'this worthless peice of junk' in the garage to rot?
This may work in our financial life, but spiritually...not so much. How many of us, wrecked maybe even to what may seem beyond repair, try to shift into drive anyways or simply throw ourselves out? I know I've done it. But oh the joy and ease and comfort that comes from going to the mechanic--the ultimate quicker-fixer-upper for our lives no matter how dented or twisted up they may be. And if you've only knocked off your little rearview mirror than great! The fixing--or healing--process will be a lot less long and painful. If you've downright accordianed yourself, caught on fire, and wore-out your airbags, then all the more reason to go! Trust me, coming unto Him will be worth the trip!

And there's no problem, malfunction, or scratch He can't fix. And there's no garage, in His eyes, worthy to captivate anyone of His unique models.

Scriptural Thought

I learned this skill of sharing and bearing in Seminary; let's see how well I can pull it off.

One of my favorite scriptures is 1 Kings 19: 11-12, "...And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire," (here comes my favorite part), "a still small voice."

It is my personal belief that, contrary to the general claim, the Lord is not neccesarily in the Hurricane Katrinas, Chile's earthquakes, or even the Rodeo-Chediski fires. Rather, He's in the volunteers that come to help afterwards. He's in each hygiene-kit, handmade quilt, and can of peaches. Every hug and miracle of survival as well. He is the still small voice of comfort that whispers of hope and the first flower that sprouts from the ashes to illustrate it.

Let us remember our loving creator and count the blessings he gives us rather than complaining about them.

Hoppin in the Shower

I love showers. You step in all gritty and grimy and half-asleep like a mummy out of it's wrappings of blankets and step out like a high-quality freshly-steamed vegetable, all impurities left behind and ready to face the world!

There are also various activities that accompany this setting--all of which I reccomend. 'Serronating the showerhead' as my dear friend (and fellow writing nerd) put it, is always fun. And if you have a bad case of stage fright, I assure you that most showerheads are lousy critics. It doesn't matter if you hit that high A or not, they'll just kindly keep doing their job. So go for it, rock that Journey, belt that Josh Groban, spur that country (y'all), or, if your still a kid at heart, yell that Backyardigan's theme song. And if anyone happens to walk past the bathroom door...well, there's your chance at a singing contract so you'd best make it stick.

And then there's pondering. I don't know about you, but I've had a ton of inspirations seep

through those floral curtains. I've had story ideas, solutions to problems, prompts for new posts ;), and the list goes on. It wouldn't surprise me if the Gettysburg Adress came about by President Abraham Lincoln taking his morning wash-down. It's amazing! (And it's probably the shampoo.)

There's also gargling. Of course, this might go under the singing catagory depending on your style, but if you get good enough at it, I'm sure it can be considered it's own art.

And just standing there. It always baffled me that my little brother, who has to do nothing but run some soap through his hair, took fifteen whole minutes longer than me-and I have a whole process of cleaning I go through. I finally asked him what in the world he did and he told me he just stands there. Enjoys the warm water running down his back. Loves being a raisin. And if that's your mug of hot chocolate then cool! This world's not complete without a couple of raisins--as long as I don't have to pay your water bill.

Oh yeah, and there's getting clean. You know the drill: shampoo, conditioner, face scrubs, body washers, shaving cream--the works. It's a good thing to be clean. And even if you don't agree, I'm sure you're classmate or co-worker does.

And don't even get me started on bath towels.

Target Practice

My dad's an archer, to say the least. There's a monster of an elk jutting out of the specially-built wall of our living room that friends come just to gape at, wondering how exactly it all came down with a flimsy arrow.

Well, I guess skill picks up where necessity leaves of.

Anyways, I was out just walking around when I saw my dad practicing his archery with my little brother. I made my way over there and watched for awhile before a more amusing activity came to mind and I decided to go back in the house.

"Wait," my dad called, "It's your turn."

Great...

Wanting to be polite and loving my dear father for his interest in showing me something he saw joy in, I forced a smile and said, "Alright."

He helped me with the whole process of "sticking it in", "clipping it here", "Lining up", and "adjusting this" before I clumsily took aim.

How many of you can wink? That's great. Well I can't. So this whole aiming thing was a bit of a challenge. As I expected, my arrow 'airballed it' so to speak and flew right on by the target as if crossing the finish line of the loser's race.

By now I was ready to go do something else. But my dad persisted. Getting another arrow, he showed me how to aim with two eyes opened and urged me try again. Forcing another smile, I redid the whole thing, took better aim, and shot.

To my utter astonishment, it hit--and even in the middle. Who woulda thunk?

I thanked my awesome dad and, after trying to help find the lost arrow, scampered back to the house, an insight for this blog in mind :)

It seems that a lot of times God, or our Heavenly Father, offers us tasks or experiences that He sees eventual joy in. Maybe not in the trial and error, but in the successes. I know from my own experiences, as well as those of others, that although we'd much rather be doing something else, if we take up His offer--even with a forced smile--he will encourage us and instruct us through it. Afterall, as one of my favorite scriptures, 2 Nephi 3:7, reads, "I will go and do what the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them."

So if we listen to him I very well believe we will eventually hit our target--and even in the middle.

Smile

Ah picture day; the one day out of the entire school year when you forgot to do your hair.



Such was the case for me. Anyway, as the custom goes they called us to our yearbook doom over the intercom and my chatty class--all little of us--trudged down to the activity room. I waited in line, staring at the trophies, until out of nowhere it became my turn.



When the photographer asked me how I was doing I looked at him eye to eye and let him know, "I'm doing awesome, thanks!"

His response was a mix between a 'ch-teenagers' scowl and a 'I can't wait until my lunch break' frown. So, deciding I'd made my point, I proceeded to plop my apparenly-overly-optomistic self on the tiny black stool.

"What's your name?" he asks.

I answered (using my inside voice this time) and chickened out on making a goofy expression by simply painting what I hoped was a decent smile on my face.

"Ah, you're the boy chaser aye?"

I knew he'd just said that to the last girl he took a picture of but I couldn't help but chortle ;) at his perception--or lack there of.



Oh yes, them boys don't stand a chance against my nerdy report cards and skills for tripping over my own feet. And I'm sure my jeans and t-shirt just hold them captivated, not to mention the fact that I borrow my little brother's gym shorts.



Yeah, that photographer basically made my day. I should've snuck him a tip or something.

Weird Words

You know those words you come across every once in awhile that you can't help but smile at? I just thought I'd see how many I could come up with. So if you have absolutely nothing to do...

Fork, swimtrunks, ear, wig, earwig, onomonopeia (did I spell that right?), sneeze, fifferfefferfeff (I luv Dr. Suess!), soap rope (what is that anyways?), xylophone, zigzag, flipper, flapjack, frankfurter, longjohns, bergade, hobabaloo, whatcha-ma-callits, smorgsabord (Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs), stick, weasel, smack, pop, bubble, edumacation, hippo, hippopotomonstrosesquipedialiophobia (the fear of long words; go figure), banana, jell-o, noodle, yodel, mustache, aglet, snorkel, sniff, yak, yam, chortle, rendezvous, plop, honk, teeder-todder, toe, quail, synonym (not cinnamon), doodle, hoodlum, snickerdoodle, goofy, googlezillion, igloo, pomagranate, pimple, sasperilla, loogie, stud-muffin, angry-mob, cram, fudgecicle, pupil, beard, yawn, tu-tu, riboflavin, leggings, snazzy....

Got anymore? Please share.

Stepping Out of the World Into the World

I had just finished my homework and was wondering what to do next. Of course there was the options of surfin' the web, clicking on my tunes, and other brilliant time-wasters but the scene from my bedroom window softly chided me. The irrigation ditch in our backyard was running full with the sun hitting it so perfectly, like it was trying to outshine the screen of my laptop.

So, with a sigh, I finally surrendered and decided it never hurt anyone to just step outside and enjoy the weather for once. And what do you know? It didn't.

A great man once said that we didn't need a miraculous sign to see that God existed,

just a nature walk.

http://scriptures.lds.org/en/alma/30 (43-44)

And that's when my camera ran out of batteries...It was a real shame too because them were some clouds overhead--let me tell ya! And if you look at my mother's blog you can see that I got my appreciation for these simple things from her. (My photography on the other hand...)

Yeah I got some weird looks with this one, taking pictures of weeds off the side of the road--wilting ones at that. But I just couldn't resist the concept that struck me (Sorry it's hard to see, you're just going to have to look real close): How many of us, no matter how small, when all else droops, remain standing tall?

And this heavenly sight is what greeted me when I got back from my little adventure. This, my friends, is a deluxe, homeade banana muffin (with homeade frosting I might add.) Life doesn't get much better than this folks :)

So go for it. If you don't have a backyard for flowers, you have a windowsill. Hit the park, go take snapshots of an inspiring hill of dirt. I don't care, I just thought I'd share my reminder of the small joys in life that seem to make everything a little better.

Driving Class

Six...hour...driving...class...Oh dearest Ipod, where art thou?

These were my thoughts as I sat in the backseat of a school-sponsored car while my fellow student drove. Yeah, they were that good. I could just sit there and stare out the window and forget they were even driving. It was the same with the other one. I began to wonder why these two were here. This was a class for people like me who scared their parents into paying for it, not these pros!

So you can imagine my nervousness when it was my turn to take the wheel. I even ended up telling my teacher to 'really coach me'--something my mom had told me to tell him and I thought I never would (funny how parents can live up to their titles like that.)

Though I'm quite sure my drive was the most...eventful, we survived and I even happened to notice a thing or two I hadn't seen before.

For example road signs....Haha I just realized how dangerous that sounded. No, I've noticed road signs--even read them on occasion--but this time I noticed something else. Just when the road split into two lanes (I live in a small town so this was something I wasn't used to), I began to panic, perspirate, and glance over at my dozing teacher to see if he'd tell me what to do. Which one did I go in? Was there a fast, slow? Coming, going? Blonde, Brunet?

Luckily, (I love that word) a trusty road sign came to the rescue. Bragging a vibrant white surface, bold black letters, and a few bird droppings, it read "Keep Right." Immediatly my doubts vanished and I headed for the right lane. "Keep right." Just short, sweet, and to the point. I think I'll go add it to my list of quotes

But I also saw a parrell to my own life. No matter the case, whenever I begin to panic, perspirate, and look over at someone else for direction, my choice should be obvious: Keep right. Choose the choice that I know deep down will lead me to my destination; where I eventually want to end up in life. Even when I'm 134.

Well, here goes...

Let me introduce myself,

I'm a teen, an adolescent. A fellow traveler who may be younger or older than yourself but is a fellow all the same. I'm at the point in my journeyings where insecurities snap at my clumsy heels and mistakes slap at my acned face. Yet, I like to believe there are butterflies in this dark jungle we call our world. I'm forever a daughter, a sister, a neice, a cousin, a student, and a fool. I pretend I'm a writer and strive to be the Latter-Day Saint I claim to be.

And I've also decided to make a blog. (You've been warned :)

A hobby of mine is making cards for those close to me on their birthdays and ect. and, for reasons I can't even remember, I've always sighned the backs of them with Dolly Ink, a smiley face, and some quirky saying I made up. Corny? Maybe. But it somehow made the title of this blog anyway.
Obviously I don't have any cute kids to take pictures of yet (though I do have a couple younger brothers :) or newly-wed stories to share so I'm simply going to share my everyday observances, or those butterflies I mentioned ealier, because this jungle is simply too chuck-full of darkness without them.