That's not my bag.

We all have our own bag to carry.

Sometimes we may disguise our bag...it may seem pretty on the outside.


Sometimes we say, "To heck with pretending."


But guess what...we each have our own bag. And each bag holds rocks.

Some are big rocks...


Some are a bit smaller...


The point is, we all have a bag, and we all carry some rocks around. Rocks can be anything--stress, worry, fear, heart ache, illness, guilt, trials, just name it, it's a rock.

Well, here's a news flash for everyone. None of us should ever feel responsible for carrying someone else's bag. It's not my problem; it's not your problem. You've got your own bag. And believe me, I know how heavy they can get sometimes.


I can't carry your bag. If I try to carry your bag, it will just way me down. And it will continue to way me down until there's nothing left of me. It will dig into my shoulders, make my feet hurt, discourage me, suck the life and energy out of me, and possibly even kill me, whether physically or even spiritually.

Some of us like to try to hand our bag to others. In fact, I'm sure we've all done this on occasion. We don't want to carry it anymore. And who can blame us? We're tired and weak and we just want to get rid of it. So we try to give it to the closest victim. Often, we give it to a close friend, someone who cares and will mistake the act of helping and supporting for taking our bag from us. There's a difference between helping/supporting someone and carrying a person's bag. Friends are there to walk beside us, to encourage, to tell us that we can either carry the bag, get rid of some of the rocks, or most importantly, they can and hopefully will steer us to the one person who can lighten our load and help carry our bag.

Guess who that one person is. Guess who can lighten the load, take some rocks out, even carry your bag. Can you guess? That's right, Jesus Christ.

I've carried people's bags before. It didn't work. I learned that the hard way. In fact, I'm still learning from past experiences of trying to carry other people's bags. I'm still experiencing some lingering pain, even after handing back their bag.

You can't carry my bag. I can't carry yours. I will no longer try to carry anyone's bag for them. It does a disservice to them, and it does a disservice to me.

I will point them to the source of comfort and relief. And hopefully, others will do the same for me when I'm just too tired and can't hold it anymore.

We all have a bag. Let's allow Jesus Christ to help us with them.

Music

I appreciate my readers. It always feels good to get a comment. That's why I try to comment on other people's blogs when I feel impressed.

I don't appreciate my readers enough, however, to get rid of my annoying music that automatically blares every time you come to my page. I know...it's rude of me.

The thing is, I like it. And I like the diversity of the songs I choose. I'm completely aware at how obnoxious it is. Why would I think you would want to listen to the music I enjoy? Maybe I'm just conceded like that... :)

Anyway...maybe this is an apology. But it probably isn't, because with an apology change is supposed to occur, and I plan to keep my playlist forever.

I especially feel a little bad for those who detest Adam Lambert. But...what can I say, he's my guilty pleasure. I love him.

The end. :)

Stooopid mistake

I've been trying to get an internship at The Dougy Center. I contacted the director of communications with a simple, yet sophisticated e-mail asking for an opportunity to be an intern. She responded with enthusiasm, asking me, "what types of things are you interested in doing?" It took me a while to respond back, because I've never had to come up with my own job description before. Anyway, I wrote what I thought to be a really nice, professional e-mail. That is...until I sent it and caught the DUMBEST mistake EVER. See if you can find it.

Hi Kassie.

I've been thinking long and hard about the types of things I'm interested in doing. If I were to acquire an intern position at The Dougy Center I could help with or be responsible for anything regarding communications. I would be willing and happy to do anything asked of me.

My specialty is writing. I'm an talented writer and can write/edit any content in grant proposal letters, website pages, newsletters, fliers, and any other written documents. Right now I free lance write and edit for a newsletter in Farmington, Utah put out by a small company called Blue Pebble Press. I've also worked on my college's newspaper staff. I'd be happy to send you a portfolio displaying my abilities.

Although I don't know every aspect of The Dougy Center's communication department and tactics, I do know of some possible areas. I'm experienced in video making. I know how to use Final Cut in creating and editing video. I also know how to create podcasts and am very familiar with blogging. I'm experienced in many computer programs including InDesign, Photoshop and Illustrator, which are all beneficial for ads and fliers. I enjoy talking with and learning about people and would be more than willing to contact individuals or companies, either in person or over the phone, in order to give information about The Dougy Center or seek possible grants and support for the organization.

I would absolutely love the opportunity to intern at The Dougy Center. The Dougy Center played an essential role in my grieving process after my dad passed away. I don't know where I would be today if I hadn't had such a great support group as a child. I would love to give back by offering my abilities through an intern position, while also learning from and observing the inner workings of such a successful non-profit organization.

Thanks so much for your consideration.

Crystal Perry

Yes; it's blatantly obvious. Let me explain. I had intended on saying, "I'm an excellent writer...." "Excellent" is the adjective I had originally used, so "an" would be appropriate. After proof reading it a couple times I decided to change "excellent" to "talented." I forgot, however, to change "an" to "a." STOOOOPID. (Okay, I know it's spelled s-t-u-p-i-d. I'm quoting "The Kid." :)) Anyway...I FREAKED out, trying to recall my e-mail, but it didn't work. I decided to e-mail again, telling her I was aware of the mistake. I figured I had nothing to lose and only respect to gain by admitting my error. My mom helped me come to that conclusion as well.

So, long story short...well, not really short, but whatever... She responded with this:

Hi Crystal,

No worries on your type-o. :-)

Will you be in the Portland area anytime soon? I'll talk to the development staff and see what projects they'll have coming up in the fall. Are there school requirements we'd need to fulfill?

Thanks!!

So, I'm a happy camper. :)

Studying

I hate it. I absolutely hate it. With a passion. I'm not exaggerating.

I am not a good studier. I don't know how to do it on my own. I get distracted. I can't keep the information in my brain. I try to repeat things back to myself; it just doesn't work. I try writing things out. It still doesn't work. The only time I actually do well on a test is when I study with someone. Usually this process consists of a good friend having enough patience to re-teach me the concepts and then quizzing me on them.

I'm in an intro to advertising class. I swear, this stupid intro class is harder than all my 300 and 400 level classes. There's a test every week. This week we have two. The first test I took I got a D on. Yes, a D. I hardly studied. The second test I got a B only because a good friend who is also in the class took the time to re-teach me the material and quiz me. The third test I actually got an A, go figure. Same procedure as the second one. The fourth one I had to study on my own because Naomi and I couldn't find time to study together. C. What the heck? I even tried hard that time. I'm taking another one today, and again Naomi and I couldn't get our schedules to match up. Good luck to me...not likely I'll do better than a C and I don't have the patience to even study as long as I did last time.

I hate studying. Stupid facts tests...multiple choice tests that you cram the info in your brain long enough to spew it out in 15 minutes in the stupid testing center, and then you forget it all the second you walk out. I really prefer projects, hands on REAL LIFE situations, papers, and presentations. I learn SO MUCH MORE.

When I'm a professor I'm putting my foot down on tests. I'm saying no. And if I have to give them...they're going to be comprehensive, and I'll actually take time to write them, and then I'll go over them with the students and figure out what they've struggled with and allow them to get some credit back when they figure it out. Isn't school about learning? I think teachers should help students learn. I don't care that this is college. Learning is supposed to be taking place. I'm not learning in this class. I will be a professor one day, and I will teach my students. They will learn, and they'll enjoy it. It's possible. I've seen it in action.

Friendship

Can friends last forever?

Honestly. Can they? Really and truly, can friendships remain forever strong through thick and thin? How long do you have to be friends with a person before it's such a strong bond that you know it will last forever? Does the friendship have to go through a lot of history before it can be strong? Or does time have nothing to do with it...it's more the information shared and trust given?

I have so many good friends. Yet, I have so many who are no longer in my life...and I just wonder...what makes someone a life-long friend? Or, a forever friend? What are friends for? Why have friends?

Enlighten me people.

BYU-Idaho

For the past couple of months I've written in another outlet, hence the lack of blog posts. I've slowed down in the other outlet lately, hence all the recent blog posts.

Can I just say I LOVE BYU-Idaho? I LOVE BYU-Idaho.



I love the campus, I love the buildings, I love the teachers, I love the classes, I love the activities, I love the feeling, I love the Spirit.

The Spori building is my favorite.



It's not only the coolest looking building, but it hosts the coolest classes and equipment. The Spori is the Communication building. It's where I live. Prior to my mission I was an English major and never set foot in the Spori. My building back then was the Smith. The Smith doesn't even come close to the Spori. The Spori feels like home. It's cozy and happy and welcoming. The teachers are amazing...for the most part. :)

I've already talked about one of my teachers in the past, so today I'll mention another. Brother Bennett. This is my second semester taking one of his classes. Last semester I took an advanced writing class from him. While in the class I wrote about some very personal things...my experience with death and my OCD. Needless to say, he knows a lot about me.

This semester I'm taking a grammar class from him. This morning wasn't my happiest morning. I was sad and discouraged. While sitting in his class I must have appeared sad and discouraged. At the end of class, as we were finishing up a quiz, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You doing okay today?" I said, "Yes. Thanks." He said, "Okay, I just hate to see you look discouraged." I said, "Brother Bennett, you know too much about me." He said, "That's the definition of a friend. A person how knows a lot about you and still likes you." Can we say tender? Tender.

I'm so blessed to be attending this school. I'll be very sad to leave. I love BYU-Idaho.

The Dougy Center

This center holds a special place in my heart.



The Dougy Center is a non-profit organization that holds support groups for kids, teens, and young adults who have lost someone close to them to death. It was the first organization to hold support groups for kids, started in 1982.

After my dad died when I was 8 years old, this home became my second home. I loved The Dougy Center. I wasn't abnormal there. I fit in. Other kids my age understood me. I could feel anything I wanted to feel. I could talk about anything I wanted to talk about and no one was uncomfortable. I could cry, yell, run around, jump up and down, stay quiet...whatever. There was a game room, a soft room (where the walls were padded and the floors were mats) and an art room. I could express myself any way I wanted. The Dougy Center is a brilliant organization. Children are affected by death...more than people realize. Studies have shown that it often takes people 30 years to grieve the loss of a parent if lost in childhood. The sooner kids express their emotions, the better they can cope. I love the Dougy Center.

I just found out my home of healing burned down last year.



While The Dougy Center continues, and re-building is in the process, my heart aches for the loss of this home. Many many children over several years began a healing process within those walls. Found comfort and reassurance within those walls. This post is in memory of a huge part of my childhood and the beginning of my grieving process. I hope to give back to The Dougy Center one day.