I would like to dedicate this post to...

Amy Grant.

I've known Amy since I was 5 years old. I was first introduced to her when I found out my mom was pregnant with my little brother. "Girls, this tape has a song about a baby on it, and we're going to have a little baby," are the words my mom and dad said after buying Amy Grant's tape "Heart in Motion" referring to the song "Baby Baby." Many don't know, but that song was written by Amy Grant for her daughter Millie, who was an infant at the time. The record company turned it into a love song.

This introduction began the journey of a beautiful, one-sided friendship. But, considering the fact that Amy Grant is a famous celebrity, she makes the relationship as two-sided as she can, being very loyal to her fans. :)

I don't know what it is about Amy. She was there when I was little acting as the person I wanted to become while I sang into a hair brush on the coffee table belting "Baby Baby." She was there with me in the move from Germany to Oregon upon the discovery of my dad's cancer. She was there when my dad died. She was my first concert. She was my first very own cassette tape. She was my inspiration to write music and play the guitar. She was my help mate through my step-family troubles. I love her soothing voice and brilliant self-written lyrics. Over the years I've attended 5 concerts, acquired 7 shirts/sweat shirts, and gained as much knowledge about a person as one can without actually "knowing" the person. Although I'm not as obsessed as I once was, I still really appreciate the person she is and the role model she's played in my life.


Amy's many CDs...of which I have all except the very last one, which is just a "Best Of" her other Christmas albums.




In honor of this Christmas season, here's a tender Christmas song from her "Best Of" Christmas CD.

I love Amy!

Just in case you're wondering...

I'm going crazy, nuts, loony! The last two weeks of a semester are by far not my favorite. That's all.

Different Roads

I wrote a new song a few weeks ago, inspired by my persuasion class. I've learned a great deal from this class, specifically the importance of understanding people's points of view in order to really understand and express my own views. This isn't always easy to do, but if we can come to some kind of common ground with our "enemies" then maybe they'll no longer be our enemies, but rather our siblings just choosing a different path.

My roommate knocked on the door right as I was finishing the song...so sorry about the interruption. :) I don't think it's as good as my last song, but it always feels good to create something new.

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Take a good look at me
and tell me what do you see
Now that you have realized
I can see things through your eyes

Let's take each other by the hand
I'll meet you on the common land
I'll take you for a safe ride
I promise I won't leave you; I'm here by your side

Chorus:
And did you know
We can love each other
Did you know
You are my brother
Did you know
I've walked a little in your shoes
We just choose to walk different roads

So let us please open our ears
So maybe we can really hear
And start listening
And stop all this pretending

Chorus

We don't have to see eye to eye
to know we both live human lives
I know you share some of my fears
While I shed a few of your tears

Chorus

Something I like

While reading for my New Testament class I came across this verse.

James 5:16
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.

I really like this scripture. In fact, I love this scripture. I've never read or heard it before, but I believe there is so much truth to this. How can those around us truly, with real faith, pray for us unless we humble ourselves enough to open ourselves up and admit our weaknesses, short comings, and hardships? How can we faithfully pray for others we don't know anything about? I'm not saying we HAVE to know every trial or weakness a person experiences in order to pray for her/him, but knowing would make it even more meaningful. Obviously, in order for this to work, pride needs to be eliminated completely, on both parts. Wow. I really love this scripture.

Silver Lining

Well...this is another post with no pictures. So, if you don't like reading, you can just stop here.

I spent all of my Thanksgiving break STRESSED. I feel like I've never been this stressed in my life. I probably have, but I feel like I haven't. I went home for Thanksgiving, which was fabulous in theory...and somewhat in real life, but because of my nature I spent the entire week having mini freak-outs in my brain. I had a huge paper due in my Persuasion class, a huge project to start for my Persuasion class involving going out into the community, finding a non-profit organization, conducting surveys and making a media kit/grant proposal (with very little time to complete it in the three weeks left after the break) the final project for my Visual Media class due involving programs such as InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop, none of which I, or anyone in my family has, two papers due in my Mass Media class, and several articles due in my Journalism class...ALL due this week. Part of my freaking out was due the fact that I was supposed to go on an internship expedition to Phoenix, Arizona...which would last 3 days starting Wednesday at 5:00 a.m. and ending on Friday at 9:00 p.m. All of these things consumed my brain the entire time I was home, and no matter how hard I tried to forget my responsibilities...I could not forget about my stress longer than 30 minutes to an hour.

During this week-long break, several people had the desire to spend time with me. And I had the desire to spend time with these people as well. The thing that won the majority of my attention, however, was my homework. I did get to spend some time with my mom, brother, and sister...participating in our yearly shopping trip down town Portland prior to Thanksgiving. This was tons of fun...but my mind was still plagued with homework worries.

Then, the day before Thanksgiving, as I was hunched over the computer once again, I discovered a little mucus in my throat. Oh goody. A cold. I took vitamins and air born...trying to beat it before it started. Lucky for me it didn't hit too hard on Thanksgiving, allowing me to enjoy the taste of the delicious food my family had prepared. But as the days progressed...it got worse and worse. Finally, yesterday, I realized that my left ear had been throbbing for several hours. YESSSSS...and ear infection! Right in time for me to go to Phoenix to try an impress a bunch of companies and convince them I'm the girl they'll one day want as an intern. RIGHT. Obviously that didn't happen. I couldn't get in to see a doctor until today, who in fact confirmed I have a flaming red ear infection. Is this a blessing or a curse? Well...I'm hoping my teachers will take pity on my because of my illness and I'll receive a few extensions on a few assignments. Specifically my Visual Media assignment that's due today...because it is NOT done.

So, where's the silver lining? Well, I suppose it could be the fact that I MIGHT get extensions for my assignments. But that's not a known fact yet. The silver lining is my roommate, Naomi. Yes, I posted about her before. But seriously, if you have to be sick, having her around makes it bearable. She's a little mom. She'll make dinner for you, go to the store and pick up tissues and medicine for you, and yes, she'll even go out into the FREEZING COLD weather and brush the snow and scrape the ice off of your car so you can drive up to the health clinic instead of having to walk. Yeah...I might have one of the three Nephites as a roommate. Except that she's a girl...hmmmm. Well, all I know is, she's a blessing from Heavenly Father. Seriously. I am going to miss that girl SOOOO much when she goes home this winter.

Saturdays

"As today’s American culture continues to create a sex driven atmosphere, influencing the thoughts and behavior of young people throughout the country, we must keep the safety and needs of our youth at heart..." blah blah blah. What I'd like to know is whatever happened to my Saturdays? Instead of being mine, they've been turned over to the towering piles of school work that supposedly prepare me for my future career.

Saturday is no longer a day of play, but instead I use it as a day to swim to the surface for a few breaths of air only to be shoved back under the water for the next 6 days until the next Saturday rolls around. My lung capacity has expanded, with all the work that seems to come my way Monday through Friday, but no time to complete it during those days. Thus, here I am, at the library, on my ex-play-day to write an extremely intense persuasive paper on the pros and necessity of comprehensive sex education. This topic has consumed my brain for the past...FOREVER. Last Saturday was devoted to researching and writing a 5 page OUTLINE for the debate I had to perform on Monday covering this topic. Today is lovingly devoted to the 2,000-3,000 word paper on the same subject. My outline for this topic alone was over 1,000 words. I'm not too worried about the length of my paper (in all reality, 2,000 words is not that long,) but more about the quality of my writing. I haven't written a complete persuasive/research paper in YEARS. I wouldn't be too terribly worried except for the fact that I really enjoy this class and appreciate the teacher, therefore I want to do my absolute best.

Anywho...there goes my Saturdays from here on out. No more playing for me. Luckily I enjoy writing and hope to do it professionally one day, so I guess I'd better get used to this. :)

Feeling Dad

I don't get to see my dad, but I do get to feel him sometimes. He died September 30th 1993 - 16 years ago. My dad is not a dream; he is not a figment of my imagination. He is a real man and I know him.

Sometimes I compare my dad to Heavenly Father. I was with him once, but as time passes my memories fade. My whole life I have heard, "Crystal, you have the most amazing memory." Wouldn't you...if someone so dear to you suddenly disappeared? I remember lying in bed after he died, going over and over in my mind each unique memory I had of him. Him holding Kayleen and me with one arm as we giggled hysterically while desperately trying to escape from his grasp. Him yelling "BED!!!" and we 3 would run upstairs to his water bed where we magically turned into airplanes on his feet and his knees became a slide. Him shouting "Tickle Monster!!!" and once again we'd giggle and squeal as he chased us through the halls and around the furniture. I remember going on a special trip, just me and dad, while he led the military men and their families on a canoe/camping adventure. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of my mother shrieking, "Brian! Brian!" and wandering into the room only to behold my strong dad being overcome by tremendous shaking, face blue/purple and tongue badly bitten by his own chomping. I remember when they shaved his head. I remember when he could no longer chase us around, but instead gimped after us with the left side of his body lifeless. I remember his 4-legged cane, and using it as a microphone. I remember practicing for my baptism in our living room-he only had the use of one arm. I remember my baptism, with my dad holding me close to him with one arm while his younger brother supported him from behind as to not let him go down with me. I remember doing flash cards with him and reading the Bible with him. I remember family home evening on the order and language of prayer.

He's not gone. He's still alive. For now, his spirit, but one day he will reunite with his body thanks to the Atonement and Resurrection of our Savior, Jesus Christ. I feel my dad sometimes. I really do. Not often, but he's there. As one of my companions would always say, "Remember the team that surrounds you." My dad is part of that team. I will remember and look forward to the future.

Service

I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but I have the greatest roommates this semester. I've never had such a diverse, yet calm, mature, and happy group of girls before. My room roommate, Naomi, is a doll. Every day I come home to find some little surprise act of service she's done for me.

One of my favorite sweatshirts is my senior sweatshirt from Westview Highscool, 2003. I wear that thing sooooo much and several months ago the front pocket finally ripped causing it to hang down which kind of made it look like I was wearing a diaper. :) Haha...I'd usually only wear it when I was sick after that happened. But, I'd still wear it none-the-less.

One day, I came home to find this!

Naomi had SEWN the pocket back up! It now looks BRAND NEW...except for the stains it's acquired over the past 6 years. :)

Lately, I haven't had any time to do laundry. Don't worry...I'm staying on top of it with the essentials, BUT some things, take my work clothes for example, get really dirty really easily and it's hard to keep up with them. After spending several hours at the library tonight, I came home to this!


She was HAND washing my work clothes! Oh Naomi Klingler...she's an ANGEL.

Beautiful?

I'm sure most people have seen this before. But it was recently brought to my attention once again in my Mass Media class. We seriously need to stop comparing ourselves with the world and media's idea of "true" beauty.

Word Vomit

Today, in my persuasion class, I made a HUGE fool of myself.

We are often given situations, court cases, "what ifs" and so on and so forth for us as a class to analyze and discuss using the tools we've been taught and given. We are usually broken up into specific groups and have to argue our point logically and then come to a clear, logical conclusion with many facts pointing to that conclusion. Passion and emotion often lend to the convincing process and conclusion, but should not be the leading factors in persuading or coming to a specific conclusion.

Today, we were arguing a true case of a man being sentenced to death for murder in the state of Virginia. This man was an accomplice to another man, and the two of them went into a store, chose a man, followed him to his car, held him at gunpoint in his car and demanded his money. Then, directed him to an ATM at gunpoint, and demanded more money from him. Once they received the money, they drove him out to a field where they shot him 8 times, obviously killing him. The man we were discussing was Atkin. He, from much evidence researched and presented, was determined mildly mentally retarded. His IQ tested to be severely low, and he had a few other social handicaps. He, according to research, had the mental capacity of a 9-12 year old. He also, however, knew what he did was wrong, and doctors testified that he understood the criminal severity of his actions.

So, we were debating weather he should receive the death penalty, my teacher numbered us off, and I ended up in the prosecuting team. We had to prove why he should receive the death penalty. I was frustrated that our side was defeated from the beginning, nor were we given important information we needed to make a good case, such as the mental capacity of the other man involved. The info said nothing about the other man. We also didn't know anything about Atkin's living situation. For example, was he living on his own, did he shop for himself, did he pay bills? We didn't know any of this. We just knew his mental capacity from IQ testing.

Half way through I was so frustrated with the demonstration (especially because the apposing side was treating us as though we firmly believed what we were arguing with their looks and tone, when it was obviously a pretend trial) that I blurted out, "You know, I think it's impossible for us to even try to make a good case when we don't have all of the information available to us. We don't know what the other man involved is like...if he's just as "stupid" or not!" Yes. I said that. The word "stupid" in relation to a mildly mentally retarded man just flew out of my mouth. As I said this word I immediately felt HORRIBLE and like a complete moron, and it was obvious by everyone else's reactions (some laughed, some gasped, some had shocked faces) that they viewed me as an ignorant moron as well. It was the dumbest, worse thing I could say at that time, and my face immediately turned hot and bright red, and I started tripping over my words and finally said, "Now I feel completely stupid." Then my teacher said, "No, keep going, it's ok." And a friend of mine in the class said, "Don't be insecure."

Wow...it was awful. First of all, in NO way do I view people with mental disorders stupid. How that could fly out of my mouth...I'll never know. I know that some say what's deep inside a person will come out under pressure, and it sickens me to think that I would think that. I do NOT think that. The only conclusion I can come up with was how I felt during the moment. I was upset that we were set up to lose and that the class was treating us as though we should be stoned for the position we were holding. When I'm upset, sometimes things happen and the word "stupid" is often used, but this time it was used in a VERY wrong and inappropriate context.

Word vomit. I thought stuff like this doesn't happen in college. I thought embarrassing moments happen in middle school. Am I a late bloomer? I feel awful.

C's get degrees

That's my moto from now on. Forget A's and who needs B's. C's get degrees.

Deep dark secrets

We all have deep dark secrets we would never want anyone to know...right? Tell me I'm right. Please tell me I'm not the only one. Well, I've been asking my roommates and my co-workers the same question and they all tell me, "yes, we all have our deep dark secrets we'd never want anyone to know." Now, the deepness of the darkness could be subjective if others did know about these secrets...most of the time something we think is extremely dark might not be so dark to someone else. But the fact of the matter is, most of us have some secret...even if we do wear our heart on our sleeves.

Well, at what point do we feel the desire or ability to share these secrets with trusted, close friends? And is this healthy...or should we never share our secrets? Now, obviously if these secrets are things that are keeping us from the Spirit, we'd have to clear these up through the Atonement. Sometimes these secrets are, and sometimes they aren't on this level. But they're usually things that are affecting or have seriously affected the person. Secrets can range anywhere from an action, a feeling, a thought, a desire, a mistake, a belief...and possibly others I've never considered before. I've been the receiver of secrets in the past. People have confided in me things that have been hard, heartbreaking, and unbearable for them at times...things that they usually do not share with just anyone. And I've appreciated the chance to possibly take a bit of their burden and sadness...to cry with them, ache with them, and love them.

Well, like everyone, I have my own secrets. Don't worry, I'm not going to reveal them in the world of blogging for all to see. I have revealed them to a choice few in the past...for what reason, I'm not quite sure. Probably for some kind of reassurance, love and understanding from someone here in the flesh. Very recently I shared them with someone who I am becoming very close with. While she showed me sympathy, concern, and love, something in me is regretting my act of sharing. This person with whom I'm becoming close with is someone I haven't trusted my whole life. There's a LOT of baggage with this person and other peoples surrounding her but recently I have been able to overcome my mistrust and am really starting to love this individual, a TON. So, for whatever reason, I felt compelled to share with her my secrets. Probably because I felt as though she would understand, which it seems as though she did. But I'm still worried. I hope it doesn't backfire on me. I hate getting salt rubbed in my wounds.

So, if you have any thoughts on the matter, feel free to share them with me. Even if your thoughts are, "I would never trust anyone with my secrets." What do you think? Is it healthy...or a stupid thing to do? I suppose I'll find out.

Always right=Always wrong

I'm a person who likes to be right. Let's face it, pretty much the majority of us like to be right. I like to prove my point, and I usually use obvious logic to do so. I'm in a persuasive class right now which teaches me I must look at all sides of the argument and know all sides in order to logically and truthfully bring someone over to my side of the fence. Otherwise, I am merely talking AT people through raised voices and one-sided arguments. Much of what I am learning in this class has somehow already been instilled in me throughout the years.

Something I've recently discovered, however, is when a person is ALWAYS right, that makes another person ALWAYS wrong. This can get very old very fast when you're the person who is ALWAYS wrong.

Example:
About a month ago I was hired as a Grounds Crew worker here at BYU-Idaho. I love this job. For one, you don't have to deal with stupid customers who treat you like crap because you're serving them their food. For two, I like being outside doing SOMETHING worth-while. Along with this job came the opportunity to meet new people. I've already made some great friends who I enjoy spending time with outside of work. One person, however, gets under my skin like NO OTHER. We'll call him Mr. Right.

Mr. Right is always right. I'm telling you, he is ALWAYS right. One day he began talking about the act of meditation. He was learning about it in his psychology class, which apparently makes him the expert. Anyway, I said, "Oh! I learned about meditation in my Religion and Philosophy class once. I've discovered I meditate best while playing my guitar. Sometimes, I'll be playing my guitar and my thoughts will just disappear and I'll forget I'm even playing the guitar and then 20 minutes later I'll 'wake up.' My teacher told me that's a form of meditation." Mr. Right proceeded to tell me, "That's impossible. You can't be meditating while your fingers are moving." I was wrong. I guess I don't meditate.

Once a friend and I were talking about our hair and how often we need to wash it. I said, "Mine doesn't get greasy very easily. I wash it every other day, and that's good enough." Mr. Right over-heard and had to let me know that the correct term to use would be "oily" not "greasy." Thank you Mr. Right. I was wrong.

September 30th marked the anniversary of my dad's death. It has been 16 years. The day of, Mr. Right, another girl and I were dead-heading in the rain (cutting off the dead heads of flowers.) A couple of the people I work with have become really good friends, so while I was thinking about it I said, "today marks 16 years since my dad passed away. It's crazy how time goes by." Mr. Right said, "Why do you have to talk about something so depressing?" I'm sorry Mr. Right, I guess everyone is supposed to deal with hardship through silence. My mistake.

One day, while dead-heading again, I was in a great mood. The sun was shining and I had gotten enough sleep the night before. A young man was approaching (we were dead-heading by a sidewalk) and I decided to say hello to this stranger. So I did. Following our hello's, Mr. Right began to laugh. I asked him why he was laughing. "Why did you say hello to that guy?" "Well, because I wanted to be friendly." "But 'hello?'" "What's wrong with 'hello?'" "Well, you should really start out with 'How's it going?' or something of that nature first. 'Hello' is just so forthcoming. It catches people off guard." At this point I just looked at him and said, "Are you serious? You're seriously telling me not to say 'hello' to people? Wow....WOW." Mr. Right strikes again!

You see, when someone is ALWAYS right, that means someone is ALWAYS wrong. Always being wrong gets a little tiring. So, I'm going to watch myself from now on when I'm trying to prove a point. Is it really worth it?

Expectations sometimes lead to disappointment

Everyone's writing about how wonderful the Mission reunion was. I can't lie and say I thoroughly enjoyed it. I think what I will do is put the pros and cons of this latest mission reunion.

Pros-
*I got to see Rita (Tanja Jensen Dalton.)
*I got to see Barb (Heather Love Jones.)
The top two are big pluses because I don't get to see these ladies very often and they were two of my faves.
*I got to see sisters I never served with, but knew either through exchanges or the grapevine...such as Crystal Miller, Jenn Allred, and I got to meet the famous Aubrie Gibbons Zeh.
*I had the opportunity to hang with the "younger" group, Joy Wiechmann, Ashlee Draper, Karen Brucker, and Alysha Mortensen.
*I was able to see President and Sister Fuhriman.
*I got a new outfit out of it...an outfit I feel very hot in. :)

Cons-
*I thought it would be like returning to the mission...it definitely was FAR from the mission feeling.
*I had just seen President and Sister Fuhriman, and it didn't feel all that special to see them a month later.
*President and Sister Fuhriman didn't make any kind of comment or announcement...not to rag on them, I was just looking forward to hearing from them.
*It reminded me how single I am.
*I had a big let down when realizing that a certain immature individual purposely did not come because I was there.
*Realizing some friendships are never the same after the mission.
*Feeling divided between the older crowd (my first few comps) and the younger crowd (my last few comps.) This division could possibly be my own fault...but I felt it anyway.

The reality of it is this: the mission is over. Nothing will ever bring it back. No mission reunion, no hang out session with past comps, not even visiting the the mission will re-capture the experiences and feelings I had while serving the Lord for 18 months in Mississippi and Louisiana. Time to move on and upward. Well, I'm doing that, but this just re-affirmed it for me.

Sister requested

So sister receives. :)

I've been avoiding my blog lately, trying not to face the fact that I have NOTHING to write about. Ok, that's not true. I can always find things to write about...but do I have anything of value to write? That's the question. I suppose I'll let you decide.

Prior to college life:
Kevin flew out to Utah in order to drive back to Oregon with me. We had a fun couple of days with Grams and Gramps Billington singing, cooking, eating, and playing the only game Kevin wouldn't pitch a fit about: 5 Crowns...or whatever that game is called.



Then, we made the LONG drive home to Portland, Oregon. But, both Kevin and I discovered that the trip's not quite as long when you're driving, or in the front seat. Niether of us had had that privelage before. :) Kev just got his liscense not too long ago, so we were able to switch back and forth a bit. We had some good bonding times during those 13-ish hours. :)



Next was an enjoyable week at home. I just love my family tons and miss them too much when I'm away. :)
The ward activity my mom was in charge of. Salmon cook-off...a smashing hit!



Playing "Apples to Apples" at Bobby and Kayleen's place. Good times. :)


Life in Rexburg, Idaho:
Roommies-
Naomi! She's my room roommie and I love her. :) She just got home from her misson (New Jersey, Spanish Speaking) about a week before school started.

Ariel and Ashley. They're tons of fun as well. This is Ashley's last semester for a BS and then she wants to head to law school...yeah, she's like 3 years younger than I, and lots closer to real life. :) And Ariel is like Rory on Gilmore Girls. She's always reading, doing homework, or at the library. :)

This is Anita. She's a little home-maker and a Biology Major. She's ALWAYS making bread, pies, stew...whatever she can make with the ingrediants she has. And then she lets me get fat off of it.

This is Brenna. She's a hoot. She's very sweet and inocent...but then sometimes she has these outbursts of frustration with Rexburg and school. It's so odd to see her upset because she's so timid and quiet. I love her. :)

Nashville Tribute Concert+Mindy Gledhill:

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

So...I would have recorded Mindy too, but the mean people made me turn my camera off. :)

Ah...Mindy. My saving grace on the mission. Just ask any of my companions. :) "Mindy, you saved me on my mission. I listened to your CD ALL the time!" "Oh, you're so sweet. Thank you."

And that's my life up until this point. Homework, stress, homework and more stress. Except for a Tender Mercy the Lord granted me recently. Lately I have been majorly STRESSING about my choice to go into communications. I am a writer, not a reporter. My journalism teacher keeps pounding it into our heads that we are reporters. So, I was a bit stressed about it. Until, after reading my introduction paper (an assignment given in order to help him get to know us, which I took very seriously and wrote very creatively) he came up to me and let me know that I made the right choice and I'm in the right place to fulfill my desire to write. He says that many amazing writers go into the journalism feild and eventually create the most beautiful pieces of non-fiction the world has seen. He thinks that could be me. It was just what I needed. Thank goodness for Heavenly Father and His tender mercies. :)

P.S.- I'm sure there are a million and one spelling mistakes in this post. That's why spell-check is my best friend. But unfortunately, my best friend isn't speaking to me right now (it's not wanting to work) so I have to reveal my stupidity to the world.

Communications/English/Communications/English....

AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! Ok, *deep breath,* I'll back up a bit. When I was in middle school, I discovered I loved to write. It began with the guitar. Actually, if we go back even further, I loved making up songs when I was 6 or 7 years old...but really never thought to write them down. So, in middle school, when I started playing the guitar, I had an actual reason to write my thoughts down on paper. I could put them to music easily. I LOVED it. It was a beautiful escape for me.

When I started high school I had the most amazing freshman English/lit teacher, and fell in LOVE with literature, but more importantly, I realized I LOVED writing my thoughts and feelings down about the literature. From then on, my writing improved and I used it as my main form of expression.

So, I went to college, and what did I major in? Well, English Education of course. Why Education? Because...I LOVED my English teacher so much as a freshman, I wanted to play the same roll. Yeah...that didn't turn out so well. I found out quickly that I don't have the patience for the politics of the education system, nor do I have the patience for kids who don't give a rip about English. So, on to....

English with an emphasis in Creative Writing. WOOT. I had found my calling. LOVED it. I loved my classes, loved the progress I was making in writing. LOVED it all. Except, I didn't love the options ahead of me...as in WORK. Yes, that little activity one has to participate in, in order to survive. I fretted over this quite a bit, talked to advisers, thought, prayed, weighed out my options. It wasn't looking good. I'd either have to A)Be a technical writer (NOT FUN) B)Hope and pray that I'd make it as a famous author from the get-go (and live in a box on the street until then) C)Go to grad school and either become a professor of lit/creative writing or go into publishing. Hmmmm....NONE of these options looked appealing to me. The best choice was B...which was highly unlikely and not realistic to make a living off of for the rest of my life. Especially with the style of writing I'm best at and most enjoy, Creative NON-fiction. :)

So, I came home from my mission, prayed a lot, and decided JOURNALISM. WOOT! It's creative non-fiction, and hopefully (questionable in this horrible economy and the downfall of newspapers) will give me a permanent income, which will help me survive. So far, so good. My English credits clumped together to make a minor (thank goodness for the good people at BYU-I) and I'm done with my generals. So...I just have Communications with an emphasis in journalism left. SO exciting, but SO stressful. I'm not used to this stuff. I'm used to reading a book, picking it apart, and writing about it. Now, I have to attend meetings, ride along with cops, find stories and come up with something flashy to write about. Exciting, but different. It's also a vastly different writing style. Reporting is extremely different than analyzing. One day, my dream is to have my own column. But, that's rare, especially for starters. I know Communications/journalism is the right decision, but it makes me nervous. I miss English.

I also miss the freedom of no homework. I'm not sure taking a year break after my mission was the best choice in the whole world...but you roll with the punches right? I hope I can handle the stress.

Dropping like flies... :)

I'm back in Rexburg, IDAHO. I'm trapped here...pulled to this thing called BYU-Idaho in order to finish my education. In the past, I have made MANY friends in this dear old town. Where are they now? Gone. Done. Graduated. Married. In fact, I believe the only single friends I have now are people I either served with on the mish, or have met within the last 6 months. And even the mission people are gettin' hitched. Geeeeeeez. Let's explore this together shall we? For those of you who I've posted your pictures, I hope you don't mind. :)

I started my college career with a dear friend of mine whom I grew up with. Ashleigh Call, now Thornock, and I were roommates our first semester of college. About 2 weeks into the semester...maybe 3, she met her eternal companion and a week or two after that, they were engaged. They now have 2 beautiful little girls and the rest is history.
Ash and Chad

Next was Lisa Cayton, now Wach. She's been one of my best friends since 4th grade. After Ashleigh and I roomed together for a semester, Lisa moved in and became my roommate. She didn't really meet or get to know her now-husband until the semester I went home for my break. They dated for about a year and then got hitched. They have the cutest little boy, and a little girl on the way.
Lisa and Dave

The next of my close friends to gain an eternal partner was Hailey Everton, now Scarbrough. Actually, Ashleigh, Hailey, Lisa and I were all close friends growing up. But anyway...Hailey and I never lived together during college, but we had some good fun and just lived a few doors down from each other. She actually married someone she knew and dated (a little) in high school. They then dated before his mission, and Hailey "date-waited" while writing him on his mission. It was meant to be and they were married and now have a gorgeous little girl and a little boy on the way.
Hailey and Drew

Dacia Stimpson, now Andersen, was the next to get married. I didn't meet Dacia until my second year of college. We became FAST friends and roomed together for a few semesters. We were in-separable for a while. :) After she graduated, she moved home to coach at her home high school. There she was pursued by a man in her teeny little single's branch, and their dating quickly turned into engagement, and then into marriage. They now have a darling baby girl.
Dacia and Cameron

Next in line was my dear cousin Sundy Lynn Peterson, now Anderson. Sundy Lynn is like a sister. We've obviously known each other our whole lives, and I had the privilege of living with her and her family after her mission and before mine. She helped me discover my calling to serve a mission, and well, basically we're two pees in a pod, as our grandmother says. She stayed single for practically my whole mission...until my year mark, she sent me a note telling me she met someone. Then...another announcement came informing me she was getting married 40 something days before I would arrive at home. While sad I couldn't be there, I was super excited that she had found her eternal companion.
Sundy and Tyler

Ok...we're getting closer to the end of the list. Recently, my fabulous friend, Rebecca Joy Falke, now Somers, married the love of her life...just a couple months ago. This was such a joyous occasion. :) It really really was. There are no words to describe Becca...she's just a bundle of happiness. She was my first college friend...meaning, we lived together our first semester and became great friends and lived together for 4 more semesters after that. While I was on my mission, she graduated from BYU-I and moved to Texas to work for her brother, where she met her now-husband. They dated about a year...or close, and are now husband and wife.
Becca and Rob

And now, my beautiful sister (who was not always on my top list of friends growing up, but is now one of my closest :)) is married as well. She, as I've mentioned many times before, married a man we both knew when we were small chillins. We reunited with them a few years back, Bobby and Kayleen made a connection and now they are Mr. and Mrs. Ulrich.
Kayleen and Bobby

I also made many close friends on my mish...connecting strongly with many companions and having many good laughs. Two of these great companions are now married. Sista Heather Love, now Jones and Sista Tanja Jensen, now Dalton.
Heather and Ryan - Tanja and Brad

And, I'd be crazy to say these are ALL of my friends who have gotten married. BUT, I don't have time to post every single person. So...as you see, I am the lone being in the midst of Marriage-ville. But...although I may sound kind of bitter, I'm really not. In all actuality, what made me want to post this is looking at pictures of Hailey's little girl. All of the sudden I was overcome with emotion. I've been so blessed to know all these people and become such great friends with all of them. And, I'm so extremely happy they've all met their eternal companions and are continuing on in this life, trying to keep the commandments and raise their families up with Gospel principles in this crazy world. I'm blessed to still know and stay in contact with each of these people. And while yes, it is hard to be single cuz at times it feels as though I'm being left behind, I know Heavenly Father is aware of all of us and each of our needs.

A series of not so unfortunate events :)

So, today's my day off and I decided to post a bunch of blogs I've wanted to post for a while. Take a looksy if you're curious and/or have the time. :)

A year ago and then some...

I can no longer say "A year ago today I was knocking on doors in humid, sweaty Mississippi." July 30th marked 1 year since I was released from being a full time missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And now, all I can say is "A year ago today I was a normal person." But wait a minute...we, as Latter-day Saints are a peculiar people, right? So, I guess I'm not "normal." I'm peculiar. :) I want to do better with spreading the gospel as a member missionary. I've done some things here and there, helped a few people on my merry little way, but I want to do much, MUCH more. I MISS being a missionary A LOT. And in some ways, it doesn't really feel like a whole year has passed. I'll always cherish the memories and eternal friendships I made during that year and a half. This last year hasn't been easy. In fact, the transition back was a very hard and painful process, and every once in a while I'm swept back to those same feelings of loss and heart-ache I had when I laid my head on my pillow the night of July 30th, 2008 and realized that the next morning would be the start of the first day I would not wear my name tag. Tears streamed down my cheeks that night as I realized how much harder it was going to be to keep my personal relationship with my Savior and Heavenly Father strong and connected. It has been a battle, but I've felt their comfort and support through every trial I've had to face during this last year. And I'm happy to say, I still know that the Gospel is true; it was restored by Jesus Christ himself through the boy, Joseph Smith, who was chosen to be the first prophet in this last dispensation. I know that through the Gospel of Faith, Repentance, Baptism, Receiving the Gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end we will get back to our Savior and Father in Heaven. I know the Book of Mormon, Bible, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price are true and each testify of Jesus Christ and His Gospel. And I will not let the world convince me otherwise.