Julie and Julia

I may be the only person who cried during this movie. Well, mostly toward the end. Am I?

It broke my heart that Julia didn't want to meet Julie...said Julie was disrespectful. But I'm glad they kept it real. And at the very end, when Julie was looking at Julia's picture and said, "I love you Julia," well, I choked up over it.

I understand. Julia inspired Julie. Changed her life for the better. Pulled Julie's drowning body out of the ocean, as Julie puts it to her husband, to which her husband responds "not so dramatic." But it's true. And I understand.

So, here's to you, Amy.
Thanks for being my Julia.

Dating

I'm not good at it. I suck, actually.

It's going to take a miracle for me to find someone who can put up with me forever. And that's the honest truth.

Tenth: What I wore today

To work:
*Uncomfortable black pants
*A pink tank top
*A black button up sweater over the tank top...it has cute ruffles
*Black socks
*Black slip on shoes that used to be way cute once upon a time, but they're way old and worn out

When I got home:
*My brown BYU-Idaho sweatshirt
*Navy blue sweat pants
*Mustard colored fuzzy socks

*Two rings I never take off...one is my mom's wedding band from my dad, the other is an Endure to the End ring a companion on the mish gave me
*My glasses

Song of the week

I've decided to pick theme songs for each week. I'm going to post them every Monday. I'll decide what song it is based on my mood that day...and maybe what it's been the previous couple of days. So...this is the beginning of my Song of the Week journey.

This week it's Kris Allen's "Let it Rain."

Things haven't quite turned out how I wanted them for myself...different from the majority of my friends. I've got a lot of voices in my head telling me a lot of different things. This song is perfect for how I feel. Bring it on.

Ninth: My beliefs

I believe many things.

I've often had a debate in my mind...over using the word "know" instead of "believe." For a time I used the word "know." I'm starting to use the word "believe" more often now. For one, knowledge comes down to fact for me. And someone can challenge a supposed fact. But belief, no one can tell me a belief is wrong. No one can challenge a belief. The other reason is, I don't always know. I don't. Sometimes I think I do, but I don't always. Sometimes I know some things...but I don't know all things. But I do always believe...which is a form of faith...so I'm okay with that.

So, with that said, I believe God knows and loves me on a very deep level. He knows me the best of the best, and he loves me because and despite of it all. I didn't used to believe this. I believed in God, but I didn't think he really really loved me despite some of my weaknesses. I do now.

I believe that sometimes we can't choose to be happy. (Not all this is spiritual.) That phrase, "No one can make you sad or mad." Yeah...I don't really agree with that. I understand the idea. But I believe this is just a phrase made up by the people who like to push buttons. I do believe we can control our response to the mean person...but I do believe that another person's behavior can and will affect a person's mood. Why else are we taught to be kind, loving, caring, honest...so on and so forth to each other?

I believe in the power of the word "good." If we're told we're good from the get-go, I believe we'll be more inclined to do good things. We'll feel good. We'll want good. If we're told we're bad with every mistake we make, we'll feel bad. We'll feel that all we can do is bad. I believe in the power of good.

I believe the Book of Mormon to be another testament of Jesus Christ. Every time I read that book, my life, attitude, demeanor gets better. Sunnier. Happier. More positive. Bearable. Is it true...or just the placebo affect? I don't always know, but I believe it is true. It speaks to my heart. I feel God with me as I read the words off the page. It expands my mind and heart. Makes me a better person. Gives me ideas and answers. I believe the Book of Mormon to be another Testament of Jesus Christ.

I believe Jesus Christ was more than just a prophet...more than just a good teacher. He was and is the son of the living God. His whole purpose is to save us...from ourselves, our natural man. He offered to fulfill God's plan, came to earth, taught and performed miracles, set up and established His church by his authority...passing his authority on to his apostles, suffered on our behalf, feeling every pain, sin and heartach we've ever felt or caused, died and then rose again, overcoming both spiritual and physical death.

I believe in communicating. Openly communicating. I don't always do it. I sometimes carry things around for a long time. I sometimes don't want to listen to people when they want to communicate with me. But I believe that the more we try to openly communicate, the better we'll be at it. I believe open, honest and respectful communication can prevent huge problems...in friendships, families, work relationships, and even relationships between different countries.

I believe in the power of love.

I believe in setting healthy boundaries.

I believe that Jesus Christ's church has been restored today and that He is at the head. He runs His church through a prophet who holds His priesthood authority. That prophet today is Thomas S. Monson. I believe that through faith, baptism, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and then continuing to try to live a faithful, God fearing life, we will all make it back to God where we can live with Him, Christ, and our eternal families and friends.

I believe there is good in every person. And I believe that we will find whatever we're looking for...whether it's the bad or the good...in anything.

Knocking on Death's Door

I had a near death experience tonight. In fact, I'm still suffering from the pain of it all. You see, I ate one of Salvador Molly's famous great balls of fire.

These balls of fire are so famous that the guy from the Food Network, the one who takes challenges to eat crazy things all around the world, has been to Portland's popular Salvador Molly's and executed the challenge of eating five in one sitting. If you can eat five in one sitting, you get your picture on the wall. And, for every fireball bought, the money goes toward heating a poor family's home.

So...I bought five...to share with the family for an appetizer. My mom, Chuck and Kayleen opted out. I ate one and Bobby ate four. I'm still in pain. Severe pain. From ONE fireball...made with habanero peppers.

I'm a person who enjoys heat. Everyone knows I'm the spicy girl...the girl who likes the sensation of a burning mouth. Nothing's ever spicy enough for me. Well this, my friends, is a different story. This fireball went to the pit of my stomach and decided to explode there. I am not kidding. I've never felt such pain, burning and...well...FIRE in my stomach before. I couldn't even eat my main course...had to put the entire dish in a to-go box. I'm in so much pain, in fact, that I couldn't even go into the grocery store with my mom and sister on the way home...I'm sitting in the car, very still, writing this blog about it... Oh. My. Word.

I nearly died. And Bobby nearly had his picture on the wall.

Eighth: A moment

Or two. I'm going to share one hard moment in my life and one awesome moment in my life.

First, the hard one. The moment my childhood, as I knew it, vanished. I wrote the following piece as a school assignment in my advanced media writing class a year ago. It's called "Awakening."

***We all can remember an incident or two where we experienced an awakening, a crossing over from childhood to adulthood. I startled awake so quickly I forgot I had been asleep.
'Why is the hall light on?' I thought.
My sister and I liked to sleep with the door open just a crack, to let the light from the bathroom softly peel in to scare away the boogie monsters. But tonight the hall light was on. It was brighter than the bathroom light.
I sat up, trying to figure out why I was awake when it was still dark outside. I was excited for the next day of first grade. It was my first week of school and I already loved my teacher, Mrs. Perry. She had the same last name as I did.
It didn't take a second of sitting until I heard the shrieking coming from my parent's room.
"Brian! Brian! Brian, what is it!?" The screams ripped from my mother's lips; she was panicked.
I glanced over at my little sister's bed. She was still sleeping. I pushed the covers away from me and slowly tiptoed to the hall to investigate.
'There must be a really big spider in their room. Mommy wants Daddy to kill it.' I imagined a spider the size of my dad's fist clinging to the ceiling above their bed.
I slowly peered around the corner of my parent's open door. But it wasn't a spider. My mom stood at the side of the king-sized water bed where my dad lay shaking, convulsing. I took a few more steps inside the room and stared at my dad from the foot of the bed.
"Brian! Talk to me! What's happening to you?!" Can you talk to me!?" More shrieking from my mother. Terrified, uncertain sobs escaped from the woman who knew everything.
Something had taken over my daddy. H was not in control of his body. I watched him as his entire body made violent movements. His face was purple. He was biting his tongue. Why was Daddy biting his tongue?
My mother rushed around the bed, lunging at the telephone. We lived in Germany, and in our German home only one phone could be plugged in at once. Mom had forgotten to unplug the phone downstairs.
As she turned to run downstairs she spotted me.
"Pray girls, pray!" she yelled as she disappeared into the hallway.
'Girls?' I thought. I looked behind me and saw my little sister.
Side by side we dropped to our knees at the foot of the bed, drowning in our over sized t-shirts, the shirts Daddy brought home from work sometimes. We loved wearing our daddy's shirts to bed.
"Heavenly Father, please don't let our daddy die. Please don't let our daddy die. Pleeeeeease. Don't let him die," we begged over and over again.
"They won't come! The ambulance won't come! We're too far out in the German territory for them to send an ambulance!" My mom was running back up the stairs. We were helpless. My dad was shaking. We couldn't do anything.
Finally, the Andersons showed up. Sister Anderson was my mom's best friend and a nurse at the military hospital. My dad was awake. He wasn't shaking anymore.
"What the hell are you guys doing here at 2:00 in the morning!?" my dad yelled.
"Brian, do you remember anything? We think you've had a grand mal seizure," Sister Anderson informed my dad.
I stood in the corner, watching my daddy. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, grabbed his pants with both arms, put them on one leg at a time, zipped them up and then buttoned them. All by himself. He was fine. He was my daddy--at least for one last night. That was the last time I'd ever see my daddy stand, walk or put his pants on by himself again.
They left us with Sarah, Sister Anderson's daughter, and drove Daddy to the hospital. It was time to go back to sleep.
"Leave the door open," I told Sarah. The reality was, the light couldn't scare away the boogie monsters anymore, but I still wanted to pretend it could.***


Ready for one of the amazingly awesome moments in my life??? This happened exactly one year ago. Performing at the Best Of Guitars Unplugged in front of close to 5,000 people.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

One of the most exhilarating moments of my life! :)