Laziness, Dating Ettiquette, and Narnia.

I apologize for not posting last week. It was a combination of two things. First, my lazy mood. It didn't help that Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers was playing in our living room. I have many weaknesses in this world: plopping on the couch to watch three hours of awesome boots, capes, and swords is one of them.

The second was that silly tendency of us girls to think in spirals. My original thought: Wow. That last post was really short-winded. Where the spiral ended: I'm the worst blogger known to man!

I think its funny how we do that. We discussed it in young women's once. Scenerio: A boy sits behind us in class.

From that we suddenly remember that we didn't do our hair very well in the back.

Because we didn't do it very well, we're lazy.

Because we're lazy, we're fat.

Because we're fat, we're ugly.

Because we're ugly, he probably doesn't want to sit behind us.

No one probably wants to sit behind us.

 It goes on and on. And before the guy's even said hi, we're already craving chocolate.

Anyways, its good to be back. It seems that without fail I can walk out of the doors of our chapel on a sunday afternoon and feel like a completely new person. Without fail! I will literally have weeks where I say to myself, "Just hang in there until Sunday. You'll be fine."

And since I know some of you probably want to know (and thank you for wanting to) Winter Formal went great! I will be eternally grateful for my peers because here--and only here--can a student announce at the end of a school dance, "And remember to study your scriptures before you go to bed!"

Awesomeness. I just hope my date thought the same thing because after forgetting to tell him the color of my dress, fogretting to remind of the time our date, leaving my money in my hurry (it was girl-ask-guy), and guessing on what sort of Subway sandwich he wanted I was thanking my lucky stars he was such a laid back guy.

In fact, he told me it was one of the funnest dances he'd been to. And guess where I found the purse that held my money (and phone)? In his driveway. I had climbed out to walk him to his door and found it at my feet--inches away from where my tire would've smashed it. I have forever vowed to have good manners on dates. I wouldn't have found it otherwise.

It was one of those times where you just know someone up there is looking out for you. He knows your less-than-perfect tendencies as well as your closer-to-perfect ones. Maybe my Heavenly Father chuckled when saw that I had left my purse, muttering that it probably would've been my head if he hadn't screwed it on right. But then he knew that it was alright. He knew me and he knew that I would insist on walking my date to the door. The money my parents spent on that phone wouldn't go to waste.

I also apologize for my random topics. I can't seem to find just one theme for this week that would be easily postable. Just the daily reminders of who I am and where I need to go because I seem to need them as daily as a dosage of vitamins. And one of those reminders seems to always be my little brother. How angry can you get at a little kid for not wanting to put his church clothes on when he asks you out of the blue, "Do they make a 10Up? Because they make a 7Up."

But itt's crazy how the opinnions and themes of the world can still so subtly sneak into your head. That's why I like church so much. All the times I've grunted and groaned and scowled at my alarm clock this year that we've had to go early, I've never regretted how clearly my mind thinks afterwards. It just seems to clear all those petty little bugs that tend to get stuck to my spiritual windshield. It's one of the reasons I write this thing on Sunday after church. That way I can look back on it later and remember why I was so happy a few days before.

On a completely different tangent, I've decided to start reading the Chronicles of Narnia again. I tried once in the fourth grade because my more mentally-advanced friend was reading them. But I couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Lions couldn't sing. And what was with Edmund? There's no way I'd walk into the clutches of an evil witch just for some turkish delight. (Whatever that was.)

But now I get it. And it's so cool! I absolutely adore the symbolism as well as the straightforward things. One of my most favorite lines, "Now the trouble about trying to make yourself stupider than you really are is that you very often succeed."

Oh Mr. Lewis, if you only knew! Enter: Precalculus class.

Snow Place Like Home

There's just something about snow that makes us Arizona lizards go nuts. Suddenly the halls of school are more cheery (and muddy) and everyone's out and about. Yesterday I made a cowboy snowman, had a snowball fight with my baby brother, was pulled on a sled behind our quad, played an imaginitive game of wizards with my neighbor, and rode a horse! I hardly do half that much in a normal day.

The day before, simply entranced with this rare winter wonderland, I bundled up and went for a walk since I had PM Release and got out early from school. Except I forgot that all the elementry kids got out early too.

I saw some kids playing in their yard and casually waved as I passed, saying something along the lines of, "Looks fun!"

"Hi," they replied mischeviously. Then they brought their hands up, full of packed snowballs.

And that ladies and gents, began the most pathetic defense on my life that I have ever performed. Suddenly I was being pelted left and right. One sharp-aimer even managed to get some snow packed into my ear. I finally decided to fight back but if you knew my history of throwing abilities...well, let's just say that in dodgeball I only ever handed the balls to other people and in volleyball I couldn't serve to save my life.

In short, those rascals would be at point blank and my snowball would go flying two inches to the left of them. Not that it would've done any damage anyways.

And in the middle of this cold, wet warfare, two little girls kept begging me to 'spin them'. I had done it once for one of the girls and they weren't about to let the trend disapear.

So, three more spins, fifty-three more face shots, and a humiliating twenty misses later, I finally muttered something about having to go pick up my brother or something. Like a victim of the He-Man-Woman-Haters-Club, I walked off, digging snow out of my ear and shaking it out of my shirt.

But with all the Christmas stuff, and with all my plans to leave to college this summer, I've been getting sentimental. Again. To the point its almost pathetic. I basically cried myself to sleep one night just thinking about how I wouldn't be able to drive my arguing brothers to school or cuddle up by the woodstove with my family on a saturday morning. There'd be no little neighbor girls banging on my door waking me up from my afternoon nap or evenings roaring with laughter with my baby brother while watching Phineas and Ferb. My two bestest bestest bestest friends who know everything about me wouldn't be there. Neither would my Buick, who's doors got frozen shut last night and I literally had to call my house phone from the parking lot for someone to help me get out.

It'd just be me and the Barbie in the Nutcracker movie I've sworn to myself that I'm bringing.

Fittingly enough, the lesson in Young Women's today was about accepting change. I listened, trying to hold back even more tears.

And then it dawned on me. As if someone had wrapped a warm arm of security around my shoulders, the spirit whispered that this wasn't the first time I'd done this.

About seventeen years ago, I'd left a different home. One that I imagined I loved dearly. One I had built memories and relationships in. But I knew that I needed to go where I was going and that I'd be happy I'd gone in the long run. I needed to go and experience things for myself. To learn things that I couldn't there. Just like how I felt about college.

So I left my Heavenly Father, probably in a similar fashion that I'll be leaving my parents, and set off. He'd given me all the knowledge he could, just as my parents have done, and it was time for me to go out and make use of it.

I'd done it before. And a soft whispering to the heart told me that I could most certainly do it again. And, like my mom told me today, home isn't neccesarily where your past crayon drawings have been painted over or where your worn-down swing set lies. It isn't really where your first prom dress hangs up or where your favorite meal was made. Home is something in your heart. It's a testimony. A love and a prayer. A sense of confidence. A familiar warmth. Something you can take with you no matter where you go so long as you hold to it.

 And I think that, more than any financial aid or cafeteria pass, is what will hold me together when this sentimental lizard leaves her hole, no matter how thick the snowstorms. A little piece of the home before this one.