Monday morning, my dad, his girlfriend, and my cousin rode their motorcycles up into Payson for breakfast. My dad's girlfriend's son and I followed in a car. We drove through some beautiful country. My heart always soars when it realizes it's surrounded by mountains. Granted, the Mogollan Rim doesn't have the pine-coated peaks of the Uintas, but I still loved the drive. There was a series of peaks with heart-shaped talus piles. Instead of trees, the mountains sported bushes. I miss mountains.
Listening to: Supernatural
Reading: Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Overload.
It just figures that my AntiVirus would decide to expire the day before the most action-packed week of my summer. Chess, Jackie Chan, Zona Rosa, window shopping, a plane ride, &c. I could go into detail, but I fear that would result in a blog post of record-setting length. And that would just be painful to do from my phone.
Right now I'm coming to you from the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. I think that speaks for itself. It's intermission right now.
Listening to: the crowd
Reading: Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal
Right now I'm coming to you from the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. I think that speaks for itself. It's intermission right now.
Listening to: the crowd
Reading: Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Mama.
For the past two days, my waking hours have been spent with my mum. Oh, wait. I'm not British. Dang. Heavy sigh.
May I just mention that I love spending time with my mom? Yes, she aggravates me sometimes, but so does most everyone. I'm working on it.
Yesterday we went to Walmart, which has, once again, failed me. Hegh! Walmart...
Today we went to Shatto dairy again, as that's where my darling mother tries to get all of her milk since it comes in those schnazzy glass bottles, thus no disgusting plastic taste.
Speaking of milk, after our escapade to the dairy, we drove down to meet my brother at the Cracker Barrel. At one point during the meal, he ordered a pint of milk. It came in a little carton, so he thought maybe that was what was giving it a bad aftertaste. He poured it into a glass to try to fix that, but it still tasted gross. My mom's face when she tried it was absolutely priceless. I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard. If the taste wasn't enough, the weird texture the milk was leaving on the glass was a pretty fair indication that it was rancid. The look on the waitress's face when we informed her was almost as funny as my mom's.
For dinner, I ordered the most delightful chicken with cheddar and broccoli and little breaded crumblies. After we were all done eating, we sat there just talking for quite a while. It was nice. I was especially amused by how my brother kept pouring the littlest amounts of orange soda into his mug and drinking them, like he was doing soda shots. It was even funnier when he hiccoughed later. Yes, that's how it used to be spelled.
After dinner we went to the Liberty Jail and went through a tour. It was a good thing we put the top back up on my mom's convertible before we went inside because it was pouring rain when we came out. It was awesome driving around with the top down all day, though.
The rain let up as we neared home, so mom and I took a detour and stopped by Far West, a.k.a. one of my favorite places in the world. The wind was magic again. The sun was behind a soft cloud, so the light was white gold, and the wind rippled the nearby ponds and the tall grasses. There's no better place in the world to be barefoot. At one point I even sat down in the middle of the temple site and tried to find a four-leaf clover, but to no avail.
Back at home, mom and I watched the new Alice in Wonderland, which I thought was quite awesome.
Also, I love blueberry bagels with strawberry cream cheese.
Listening to: "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of"
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
May I just mention that I love spending time with my mom? Yes, she aggravates me sometimes, but so does most everyone. I'm working on it.
Yesterday we went to Walmart, which has, once again, failed me. Hegh! Walmart...
Today we went to Shatto dairy again, as that's where my darling mother tries to get all of her milk since it comes in those schnazzy glass bottles, thus no disgusting plastic taste.
Speaking of milk, after our escapade to the dairy, we drove down to meet my brother at the Cracker Barrel. At one point during the meal, he ordered a pint of milk. It came in a little carton, so he thought maybe that was what was giving it a bad aftertaste. He poured it into a glass to try to fix that, but it still tasted gross. My mom's face when she tried it was absolutely priceless. I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard. If the taste wasn't enough, the weird texture the milk was leaving on the glass was a pretty fair indication that it was rancid. The look on the waitress's face when we informed her was almost as funny as my mom's.
For dinner, I ordered the most delightful chicken with cheddar and broccoli and little breaded crumblies. After we were all done eating, we sat there just talking for quite a while. It was nice. I was especially amused by how my brother kept pouring the littlest amounts of orange soda into his mug and drinking them, like he was doing soda shots. It was even funnier when he hiccoughed later. Yes, that's how it used to be spelled.
After dinner we went to the Liberty Jail and went through a tour. It was a good thing we put the top back up on my mom's convertible before we went inside because it was pouring rain when we came out. It was awesome driving around with the top down all day, though.
The rain let up as we neared home, so mom and I took a detour and stopped by Far West, a.k.a. one of my favorite places in the world. The wind was magic again. The sun was behind a soft cloud, so the light was white gold, and the wind rippled the nearby ponds and the tall grasses. There's no better place in the world to be barefoot. At one point I even sat down in the middle of the temple site and tried to find a four-leaf clover, but to no avail.
Back at home, mom and I watched the new Alice in Wonderland, which I thought was quite awesome.
Also, I love blueberry bagels with strawberry cream cheese.
Listening to: "Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of"
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Fun.
Too few water balloons and frozen watermelon.
I really like the singles' branch here.
<3
Listening to: "Here Comes My Baby" by Sons of Admirals
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
I really like the singles' branch here.
<3
Listening to: "Here Comes My Baby" by Sons of Admirals
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
Monday, June 14, 2010
Low-key festivites.
Cast for this post:
Me.
Tonks (f): petite spitfire currently obsessed with zumba.
Ron Weasley (m): nerd 1. Ginger.
Harry Potter (m): nerd 2. Dark hair styled after the Beatles.
Dumbledore (f): obsessed with HP, Star Trek, Star Wars, Narnia, &c. Odd.
Rita Skeeter (f): ringleader, host.
Kyle (m): Rita's boyfriend.
Morgan (f): Rita's roommate.
Gary (m): Morgan's boyfriend.
The code names are taken from the characters everyone dressed up as for the midnight premiere of HP 6. That's also how they all appear in my phone. The last three have no such handles because we hadn't even met them yet at that point.
We were supposed to have a ginger-themed birthday party early last week in honor of Ron, but with all of the rain, Rita's basement got flooded and we had to cancel.
Instead we had a double birthday party on Thursday since that was Dumbledore's. We all met at El Maguey, the local Mexican restaurant. For being in the middle of the country, it's actually pretty delicious. Not the best Mexican I've ever had, but I've been spoiled over the past year because of where I go to school. I ordered chile relleno, one of my favorite dishes. The best part came at the end of the meal. Ron had alerted the restaurant staff that it was Dumbledore's birthday, so all of the waiters brought out a sombrero and a plate of sopapillas. They plunked the sombrero on her head and placed the plate in front of her and proceded to sing Columbus knows what in Spanish (it was too fast for me). While they were singing, one of the waiters had a little spoonful of whipped cream that he kept fighting to smear on her face. At the end of the song, another waiter leaned forward with a napkin like he was going to wipe it off, but it turns out that the napkin was also filled with whipped cream. They got it all over her face! She threatened to jack the sombrero for that, but didn't in the end.
After dinner we went back to Rita's house and hung for a while. We watched bits of Toddlers & Tiaras, one of the favorite shows of the group. I've never actually seen it, but my friends dressed up like toddlers and pageant moms for Halloween, so there you have it. We also watched a clip from The Colbert Report about a matador getting gored through the throat and the horn coming out his mouth. The real kicker of the story is that he survived. Blurgh...
Following that bit of delightsomeness, we went outside to play with the dog and try our hand at amateur cheerleading and such. Only two of the people involved in the toss were ever actually cheerleaders (I think), so I was kind of worried for Tonks' safety, but everything turned out alright. I also caught Ron's leap frog stunt on my phone for posterity.
Then we went out back and built a fire for s'mores. It was one of our lazier hang outs (noone tried to make a movie this time), but I think that's why I liked it so much. And we were outside when it got dark and for several hours thereafter, so I got to just sit there and listen and stare at the stars. I love being out in the country where there's so little light pollution! This is living, methinks.
The next morning I had the trippiest, most vivid dream starring every guy I'd talked to/texted on Thursday, but that's another story. The only thing I want to know is why there was a polar bear in it. I just can't get over that detail.
Yesterday I went to the singles' ward. Highlight: two of my friends wore kilts. 'Nough said.
Listening to: "Colors" by Barcelona
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
Me.
Tonks (f): petite spitfire currently obsessed with zumba.
Ron Weasley (m): nerd 1. Ginger.
Harry Potter (m): nerd 2. Dark hair styled after the Beatles.
Dumbledore (f): obsessed with HP, Star Trek, Star Wars, Narnia, &c. Odd.
Rita Skeeter (f): ringleader, host.
Kyle (m): Rita's boyfriend.
Morgan (f): Rita's roommate.
Gary (m): Morgan's boyfriend.
The code names are taken from the characters everyone dressed up as for the midnight premiere of HP 6. That's also how they all appear in my phone. The last three have no such handles because we hadn't even met them yet at that point.
We were supposed to have a ginger-themed birthday party early last week in honor of Ron, but with all of the rain, Rita's basement got flooded and we had to cancel.
Instead we had a double birthday party on Thursday since that was Dumbledore's. We all met at El Maguey, the local Mexican restaurant. For being in the middle of the country, it's actually pretty delicious. Not the best Mexican I've ever had, but I've been spoiled over the past year because of where I go to school. I ordered chile relleno, one of my favorite dishes. The best part came at the end of the meal. Ron had alerted the restaurant staff that it was Dumbledore's birthday, so all of the waiters brought out a sombrero and a plate of sopapillas. They plunked the sombrero on her head and placed the plate in front of her and proceded to sing Columbus knows what in Spanish (it was too fast for me). While they were singing, one of the waiters had a little spoonful of whipped cream that he kept fighting to smear on her face. At the end of the song, another waiter leaned forward with a napkin like he was going to wipe it off, but it turns out that the napkin was also filled with whipped cream. They got it all over her face! She threatened to jack the sombrero for that, but didn't in the end.
After dinner we went back to Rita's house and hung for a while. We watched bits of Toddlers & Tiaras, one of the favorite shows of the group. I've never actually seen it, but my friends dressed up like toddlers and pageant moms for Halloween, so there you have it. We also watched a clip from The Colbert Report about a matador getting gored through the throat and the horn coming out his mouth. The real kicker of the story is that he survived. Blurgh...
Following that bit of delightsomeness, we went outside to play with the dog and try our hand at amateur cheerleading and such. Only two of the people involved in the toss were ever actually cheerleaders (I think), so I was kind of worried for Tonks' safety, but everything turned out alright. I also caught Ron's leap frog stunt on my phone for posterity.
Then we went out back and built a fire for s'mores. It was one of our lazier hang outs (noone tried to make a movie this time), but I think that's why I liked it so much. And we were outside when it got dark and for several hours thereafter, so I got to just sit there and listen and stare at the stars. I love being out in the country where there's so little light pollution! This is living, methinks.
The next morning I had the trippiest, most vivid dream starring every guy I'd talked to/texted on Thursday, but that's another story. The only thing I want to know is why there was a polar bear in it. I just can't get over that detail.
Yesterday I went to the singles' ward. Highlight: two of my friends wore kilts. 'Nough said.
Listening to: "Colors" by Barcelona
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Stellar.
I've been putting blogging off because I wanted this hundredth post to be something very special. However, the past weekend has been, in a word, awful.
It shouldn't have been. My brother is on leave from Iraq and he managed to come see us for a few days. For only the fourth time in the past ten years, we've all been together: my mother, my two brothers, and I. As my favorite people in the world, I should've felt wonderful to have them all around me. But I didn't.
To say that I was irritable would be an understatement. We went to the zoo, I snapped at everybody most of the time, and I got heat exhaustion. I love the zoo. I love animals. I suppose part of the problem was only running on four hours of sleep. Things bothered me that shouldn't have.
My brothers bicker. That's what they do. They rag on each other and make threats. But this past weekend their behavior, one's in particular, bothered me more than usual. I don't understand why all they talk about is violent. Even if they don't mean it, it breaks my heart that all they do is wish other people injury and demise. The other drivers in traffic, in particular. And most of the time that we were at the zoo they spent talking about how they would hunt each species in the wild (except for the fun conversation where we picked which animals we would ride. I chose a giraffe. My brothers selected a hippo and a tiger). I don't like violence, and their preoccupation with it saddens me. I guess it was just too much on Thursday.
We got to eat at Winstead's, though. That was good.
The rest of the weekend was, for the most part, equally disastrous.
That's part of why I haven't wanted to blog about it. Maybe I shouldn't, but sometimes when I write my posts I think about posterity and what they will see if they read them. I don't want to be remembered as a person who was never happy or who was always complaining, never satisfied. I don't want to be remembered that way because that's not who I want to be.
Hardship is a part of life. I know that. And I think accounts of it are okay every once in a while (perhaps less than I post), but for my hundredth post, even if noone else ever finds it significant, I want something happy. Something wonderful. Something pleasantly memorable.
I could probably waste years waiting for that perfect event to record. I've been thinking, though. We're not going to remember the events of every day of our lives. Some, the big days, the ones that become significant, will stick with us always. But why wait for one of those to make a hundredth post? I think that even if we never recall it afterwards, there should be at least a moment of every day when we think, "Yes. I want to keep this." It doesn't have to be a huge affair, with gilded invitations and gift wrapping. It doesn't have to be big and loud and make itself heard. Even if it's just a tiny, fleeting second that passes quietly by, if it has that echo of perfection that sparks for an instant a splash of bliss, then that's worth recalling. That's worth the distinction of a hundredth post. And a 101st, and a 102nd, and every number thereafter.
Saturday night the stars held a convention. At least, that's what it looked like. They were clear and bright and more multitudinous than I have every seen them. They crowded together so that the sky almost looked like a piece of indigo mesh held over a bright light. There were no clouds and I heard no thunder, but there were bright, boltless flashes of lightning. The wind that night was my magic wind. Sometimes the wind is just soft with a smell and a feel to it like something is about to change, like something magical is about to happen. I love it when the air's like that. I just want to breathe it in forever.
That magic wind is why I didn't go to after-prom my senior year. When I left to go change after the prom, it was there, and I just couldn't go back among people. Not while the wind was calling to me.
The past two nights haven't had quite so many stars, but the faithful ones who have been out have shone for all they're worth.
Standing outside, staring up at the sky while every other care stops to wait...that feels like a moment worth remembering.
It's also nice to know that not too far away a friend is doing the exact same thing.
"We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late." -Marie Beyon Ray
Tonight I went to the singles' ward's FHE. We played Bigger or Better, a game in which the teams start out with a small thing and go door to door asking strangers to trade them something bigger or better. We cheated and borrowed a van from a teammate's cousin. I was against the idea. None of that is really what stands out to me, though.
No, on the way there my friends and I had been talking about Lady Gaga and how we all loved the song "Alejandro." As we were starting to head home, "My Life Would Suck Without You" was coming to an end on the radio. "Oh, man!" my friend said, "I wish 'Alejandro' would come on next." And you know something? It did.
Listening to: "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
It shouldn't have been. My brother is on leave from Iraq and he managed to come see us for a few days. For only the fourth time in the past ten years, we've all been together: my mother, my two brothers, and I. As my favorite people in the world, I should've felt wonderful to have them all around me. But I didn't.
To say that I was irritable would be an understatement. We went to the zoo, I snapped at everybody most of the time, and I got heat exhaustion. I love the zoo. I love animals. I suppose part of the problem was only running on four hours of sleep. Things bothered me that shouldn't have.
My brothers bicker. That's what they do. They rag on each other and make threats. But this past weekend their behavior, one's in particular, bothered me more than usual. I don't understand why all they talk about is violent. Even if they don't mean it, it breaks my heart that all they do is wish other people injury and demise. The other drivers in traffic, in particular. And most of the time that we were at the zoo they spent talking about how they would hunt each species in the wild (except for the fun conversation where we picked which animals we would ride. I chose a giraffe. My brothers selected a hippo and a tiger). I don't like violence, and their preoccupation with it saddens me. I guess it was just too much on Thursday.
We got to eat at Winstead's, though. That was good.
The rest of the weekend was, for the most part, equally disastrous.
That's part of why I haven't wanted to blog about it. Maybe I shouldn't, but sometimes when I write my posts I think about posterity and what they will see if they read them. I don't want to be remembered as a person who was never happy or who was always complaining, never satisfied. I don't want to be remembered that way because that's not who I want to be.
Hardship is a part of life. I know that. And I think accounts of it are okay every once in a while (perhaps less than I post), but for my hundredth post, even if noone else ever finds it significant, I want something happy. Something wonderful. Something pleasantly memorable.
I could probably waste years waiting for that perfect event to record. I've been thinking, though. We're not going to remember the events of every day of our lives. Some, the big days, the ones that become significant, will stick with us always. But why wait for one of those to make a hundredth post? I think that even if we never recall it afterwards, there should be at least a moment of every day when we think, "Yes. I want to keep this." It doesn't have to be a huge affair, with gilded invitations and gift wrapping. It doesn't have to be big and loud and make itself heard. Even if it's just a tiny, fleeting second that passes quietly by, if it has that echo of perfection that sparks for an instant a splash of bliss, then that's worth recalling. That's worth the distinction of a hundredth post. And a 101st, and a 102nd, and every number thereafter.
Saturday night the stars held a convention. At least, that's what it looked like. They were clear and bright and more multitudinous than I have every seen them. They crowded together so that the sky almost looked like a piece of indigo mesh held over a bright light. There were no clouds and I heard no thunder, but there were bright, boltless flashes of lightning. The wind that night was my magic wind. Sometimes the wind is just soft with a smell and a feel to it like something is about to change, like something magical is about to happen. I love it when the air's like that. I just want to breathe it in forever.
That magic wind is why I didn't go to after-prom my senior year. When I left to go change after the prom, it was there, and I just couldn't go back among people. Not while the wind was calling to me.
The past two nights haven't had quite so many stars, but the faithful ones who have been out have shone for all they're worth.
Standing outside, staring up at the sky while every other care stops to wait...that feels like a moment worth remembering.
It's also nice to know that not too far away a friend is doing the exact same thing.
"We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late." -Marie Beyon Ray
Tonight I went to the singles' ward's FHE. We played Bigger or Better, a game in which the teams start out with a small thing and go door to door asking strangers to trade them something bigger or better. We cheated and borrowed a van from a teammate's cousin. I was against the idea. None of that is really what stands out to me, though.
No, on the way there my friends and I had been talking about Lady Gaga and how we all loved the song "Alejandro." As we were starting to head home, "My Life Would Suck Without You" was coming to an end on the radio. "Oh, man!" my friend said, "I wish 'Alejandro' would come on next." And you know something? It did.
Listening to: "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga
Reading: The Belgariad by David Eddings
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