Mar 29, 2010


Sooo.. memory is kind of cool.
Sometimes it's a trickster though.
For example. I've said before that I don't remember much from my childhood. The only things I really remember are really significant or traumatic moments. Occasionally I'll remember a feeling I frequently had as a kid.
Other than that all I have to go by to prove that my adolescence actually happened are pictures.
Sometimes I think maybe I don't really remember something I think I did, and I just remember a picture of it.

Then there are instances where I meet someone or I learn something.. and then I keep thinking about that person or thing or skill and I play with it in my mind. I flip it around, look at it at all angles, analyze everything about it, and when time comes to see that person again or I have to show what I've learned, it's completely different from what I remember because in MY mind it's been so bent, squished, and molded into a different shape.

Let's not forget the moments when memory fails us and we're scraping and scratching our brains to the bone. (That sentence sounded less graphic and more possible in my mind.) No matter how hard you try, you can't remember something that's not engraved in your brain. I think most of us will either give up or pretend that we remember something we don't.

I remember an experience I had a couple of years ago. I went to band camp (yeah, yeah.. insert mocking laughter here) and there was a kid there that I became pretty good friends with for the week. We both played trumpet, so we would walk to the campus from the dorms together and we had some really good conversations. After band camp (chuckle) I went back to life as I knew it but every once in a while this kid's name or something he'd said would sneak into my thoughts. Then my Senior year (maybe half a year later) my trumpet-sister, Kellijo, and myself were helping at the all-state jazz tryouts (cause we're awesome like that), and this guy walks in the door! I said "Hey ______!" (Yeah, I can't even remember his name anymore.) and he looked at me and I could see all over his face he didn't remember me.. and he said "Hey, how are you?! It's been a while.." and I kind of laughed and said, "You don't remember me, do you?" He denied it and said he remembered me, but didn't give any specifics or ask any questions so I knew he was lying.
Anyway, after that I thought a lot about how I had remembered it even though it hadn't been a big deal to me, but he'd forgotten our association completely. It was strange to me to see that difference.

I think emotion is a big deal for me. Not that I'm an emotional person (Actually, I very well may be, but for the most part I think that emotion is happy. There are exceptions, though..) but that the moments I remember the most are the ones where I had really strong emotions. For example, I remember being terrified at night-- being petrified under my covers, scared that if i moved I would be attacked by the stranger in my closet. I remember the elation and warmth I felt when I smelled my mom making cinnamon rolls on conference sunday (hint, hint) while I was wearing some of my dad's giant, wool socks. I remember the frustration I felt when Eric would always manage to pin me down despite  desperate kicking, flailing, and biting. I also remember getting frustrated when I would lie down at my mom's feet while she was reading and bouncing her foot up and down and I'd get her to stop.. but only for about 7 or 8 seconds. Then the bouncing would pick up again. I remember my terror when I forgot to let go of the rope when skiing. I remember my pride when I was finally able to slalom. I remember my awe when I heard that song and saw that sunrise. :)

whoa. that was longer than I expected it to be.

Mar 17, 2010


I love perspective.
I'm constantly realizing that something I've seen previously in such a simple, plain way can change so drastically in my mind.

For example. I was at the Institute Firseside on Sunday and I was close enough to the front that I could see the interpreter for the deaf people. I love to watch these people whenever I get the chance, so I watched her at different intervals throughout the evening. When it came time for the closing prayer, I realized that they probably weren't closing their eyes. It's ridiculously obvious now, but I'd never considered how important sight would be to a deaf person. Now that I think about it, I've definitely taken my own abilities for granted.. even though I've tried not to throughout my life.

I think that's why I enjoy editing pictures so much. There are countless possibilities on how to change little things and make the picture completely different. (That picture up there is my most recent edit.)

I was driving home from the Lion House today and I had my windows and sunroof open on the freeway. It made me realize how much I actually follow the world's ways (not by doing bad things.. I just mean I do things someone else's way because it's the norm.) My hair was flying around my face, I had a giant smile on my face, and I probably looked like a crazy person. Why shouldn't I enjoy the feeling of my hair twisting itself into knots? Why can't I enjoy the sun in my eyes? Why can't I pretend the freeway is a giant rollercoaster? Because people have convinced us that traffic is annoying, other drivers are all idiotic, and we'd all rather be at home in bed than anywhere else.
Wouldn't it be awesome if it was the norm for people to look forward to working or exercising or ANYTHING more than sitting on their bottoms?
Maybe some people do. I know my pappy does. He's my hero because of it.

I'm going to try to change my perspective on life.

Yet another rambler. I feel like this hasn't been very entertaining.. but it's therapeutic for me to write these things out sometimes. My opinion might change in a couple days (or hours for that matter) but it helps me to be able to see things I've considered recently.

Here's a joke for your enjoyment:

Q:What did the 0 say to the 8?
A:Nice belt.

Mar 5, 2010

Slight Disappointment.

I'm obsessed with shakes.
Ice cream in general is AMAZING but nothing compares to the delciousness of a nice sweet, soft shake.
In Jr. High, people would ask me for advice on where to go for the best shakes. I always gave them my top two stops: Take 5 and Arctic Circle.
Oh, the wrethced day when Take 5 went out of business. My warm, thumping heart froze instantaniously when I heard the news, and proceeded to shatter into miniscule pieces.
Fortunately, I still had Arctic Circle. Their magnificent chocolate cookie-dough shake had the ability to locate the tiny pieces of my heart, thaw them out, and squish them back together.

Today my wonderful mother took me and my sister Christine to Arctic Circle and my heart, stomach, and tongue were all anxious to be reunited with their old friend-- chocolate cookie-dough. Being my silly old self, when I ordered I forgot to say "chocolate" so a plain cookie dough shake was on it's way. No big deal, I liked vanilla as much as I like my second-best friend. (haha.. i wonder if anyone will think, "Is that me or [insert name here]?" If so.. don't worry. You're my best friend.) The shake came to me in it's gorgeous, frosted glory.. and I drooled at the sight of the usual dry cookie dough balls on the top. I dug my spoon in to stir the goodness around, and to my immediate disappointment I found a (once again) heart-breaking lack of cookie dough chunks. Instead, there was a pathetic sight of tiny cookie dough pieces mixed into the ice cream. Bitter tears filled my eyes, anger filled my soul, and a frustrated growl escaped my stomach.

No biggie. I'll just have to find a new shake place.
(Wendy's is moving up on the list.. they have great cookie dough "frosty's")