Walls

When the walls come down there'll be a rushing. A powerful current of free-flowing purpose. Exposed, fragile, but resolute. Teetering at the center of everything, with nothing to grab onto but someone.

My Very Own Demolition Derby

This morning I put in a good chunk of time editing—as I often do when my cupboards are getting bare and the landlord is sure to be peering in my bathroom window looking for his money—and noticed the sunlight flooding through the kitchen blinds onto the hardwood floor, which of course got my mind wandering and wondering. Why wouldn't it, right? I started thinking about this time last year, which I spent on the other side of the world and wondered if it could be exactly a year ago today that I was soaking in the stillness of the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem. So I went to my room to get last year’s journal and did a little searching. I was close. It was a year ago yesterday.

That day the light filtered through the tall, reaching branches of the Garden . . . the birds chirped happily and endlessly as if they too knew how sacred a place it was and just couldn’t keep it to themselves . . . the colorful group from Mozambique sent out hushed, soothing melodies . . . and my own heart beat more powerfully than before. All are imprinted in my mind, feelings and images with few words.

What I felt, not what I saw, changed me. It brought a reality to what I’ve always known and seemed to solidify the spiritual ground beneath me. I’d forgotten until reading my journal this morning, but that day my challenge to myself was to come home a better woman. Lucky for me that happened, but in all honesty, I don’t think it took much work on my part. It was a natural result of the experiences I had. I came home sanded and polished shiny and beautiful. The pinnacle of something great, right? But not for long. I was actually at the perfect point in life to be broken down and then crushed to smithereens.

Reflecting on who I am today, I don’t feel like a better woman than a year ago. I’m rougher and perhaps less tolerant of annoying people and often out of tune and a little off balance. I might even admit I’m back to being a blob of indecipherable artwork. Guh. Definitely not refined. Is this what my life has amounted to? Yes and no. Here’s where it all made sense to me just a little minute ago. At the beginning of this year my world was stripped down, and I was left to rebuild from the ground up. I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before. (And now that it's happened, I can very well see it happening again.) So I'm not the masterpiece of last year anymore, BUT—here’s the kicker—I haven’t digressed like I first was convinced of when I reread that journal entry. Okay maybe I've digressed a titch in certain areas, but I’m just in a new state of life that I’m working to sort through and organize and figure out. I’m on my way to becoming something even more, even better than before, but I still have a lot of work ahead of me. Now I see that the only way for me to progress was to not just be broken down but completely demolished. Personally I think it would've been more fun to host a demolition derby and let all of you have a free shot at me. Vroom, vroom, vroom . . . Wouldn't you agree? Maybe next time.

So how do we not remain a purposeless blob of clay? Simple. Implement what we’ve learned from being smashed to smithereens. Simply put but not simply done. That might mean digging through all those blissfully painful memories to make sure we really learned what we were supposed to learn. If we don’t slow down enough to mourn our losses and analyze those defeats, changes, and trials we've survived AND change for the better, we will digress.

So maybe it’s time for all of us to do a little self-reflecting. Maybe you're stuck. Maybe you've been on the brink of rebuilding your life but gave up because you couldn’t see an end in sight. . . . and it seemed easier and safer to blend in with the dirt. Well alls I gots to say is this life ain’t over till it’s over and you best be cowboyin' up. There’s much, much more in store for you. And then before you know it, it'll be time for your next demolition derby, just like me. Maybe you and I can coordinate and plan a joint derby together. Yeah, I like that idea.

The day in the life of a person with a corded cell phone.

Wake up. Turn your phone on, which died during the night. Start to listen to your two new voice mail messages, but the phone shuts off before the first message finishes. Plug the phone in, turn the phone back on, and listen to the rest of the messages. Let the phone charge. Pack your belongings for school, tossing your phone charger into your backpack for on-campus phone use.

Get on the bus. See your brother drive through the roundabout in front of your bus! Pull out your cell phone to call him because you’re so excited, and realize your phone will probably die right when he says hello. Remember you brought your handy-dandy phone charger. Scan the inner perimeter of the bus in search of an outlet. None. Call brother anyway because it is worth the risk. (Going a month without a battery has taught you to talk fast.)

That crazy thing called love.

It’s 10:15 a.m. I’m sitting on my bed editing Wilfried Decoo’s book on writing language-teaching textbooks while half listening to the conversations floating through my walls. “Em, where’s your purse?” My roommate Kate’s sister and brother-in-law spent the night en route to Disneyland, and the two of them are now in the kitchen and up and down the stairs gathering their belongings before heading to the airport.

Those words, “Em, where’s your purse?” communicated much to me, but mostly I got the feeling that this man is taking care of his wife. To most of you that makes sense and is an everyday phenomenon, but to me that is extraordinary. I’ve never been a part of that world, and to this day it’s hard for me to fathom a man loving me enough to help me gather my belongings. Why should he care? Because I am important to him and it makes him happy to take care of me? Because he loves me? Or maybe, he doesn’t want to be late to the airport and is hurrying me along. Okay, that sounds more realistic to me. I just can’t comprehend the whole love thing, but it sounds really, really nice.

Still

Eyes see outward and eyes see in. Close your eyelids for a moment. Go to where the warm breeze blows and the sun scorches just like you like it. Go back in time to re-enjoy that sliver of a moment that vanished before you could taste it. Go anywhere. See, it's easy. Now turn on your own happy, free-flowing music mix, and close your eyes. Keep 'em closed while you begin to sway and dance. You feel the music, don't you? You feel the motion of the notes and the meaning in the words, just as music hopes you would. Deeper than any open-eyed experience could allow you. As I savor the notes individually, time lingers and stills. I'm making art with my body.


Photo by Helen Levitt, 1940.

Lisa Hannigan just may be my true love.

This is my most beautiful artistic/musical discovery by far. Well, I actually can't take the credit. A friend introduced me to Lisa Hannigan the morning before she came to Salt Lake, just two days ago. So I went to her free concert at the Graywhale a block west of campus. I fell in love before hearing her live, and then fell harder seeing her in person and talking with her afterwards. The thing that sets her apart to me is the creativity that encompasses her lyrics, fashion, music, and music videos. Seeing her and listening to her makes me restless to create. See if this video does the same for you.

Attention Walmart Shoppers

This Web site of real-life Walmart customers is what I like to call nasty-fantasty. Click here if you dare. Don't say I didn't warn you.

When to ride a scooter

I was reminded today of the time I decided to ride my Razor to school—college that is. Big-kid school. So I set out, kicking away at the streets and sidewalks underneath me. Kicking away as the incline got steeper and steeper. Since when was campus uphill? I thought, a tinge annoyed. I'd never noticed the hill even though I'd walked to class every day of college. My kicking left leg got slower and slower until I decided to walk and then hold the scooter while I crossed over to the baseball stadium. My forehead was literally dripping. I'm known to drip. Half way there. The rest should've been a piece of cake, right? It was terribly embarrassing crossing over Bulldog Avenue because my left leg was limp by then, and I was wobbling on my right leg. I was spent. By the time I got to the JKHB, I'd removed my white hooded sweatshirt and was running my finger tips across my face to wipe it dry before class. And what do you do with a Razor scooter while you're in class? I slid it under my desk, hoping I wouldn't forget it. Well, my left leg was rubber the next day, and my back hurt from leaning over. Without too much thought, I decided to retire my scooter as campus transport.

So when I was walking through the lightly sprinkling rain on the U's campus today and heard a thud, squeak...thud, sqeak and then immediately saw a girl awkwardly kicking at the sidewalk to get going, I felt for her. Poor silly girl. At least the rain was coming down to hide her glistening forehead and armpit sweat circles.

Another new start?

Is it bad that I am a liar? A flat-out, no-good liar? I said I would be blogging regularly again and I meant it, but then that great idea got lost in the files of my memory. Buried completely. And since I haven't been blogging, I haven't been looking at your blogs either. So here goes for another shot at being a regular again. I can never go too long without writing before my thoughts start tugging on my heart . . . or vice a versa.

Sneak Preview

So since a lot of people outside of you my private inside friends have been asking about filming The Generations Project, I'm going to write all about that on my Egypt blog. BUT of course there are plenty of stories . . . plenty . . . that belong in this blog. So just know that both my blogs are now back up and running, so don't forget to check A Mediterranean Climate too. I've missed you guys!

A One-Liner

So what happened to blogging? I don't know how to multitask anymore! So much has happened. I now live in a cute house with red shutters in Salt Lake City, just a couple blocks from the Emigration Canyon. My cousin Laney and I actually went hiking in the canyon this morning and found a hidden unmarked trail with a little river running along side and TWO plank bridges. It's so nice to be close to the mountains!

Classes ended on Friday. All A's!! Filming The Generations Project finishes on Tuesday. The whole experience was priceless. Details TK. Three weeks ago Daniel, my 21-year-old bro, came home from two years of being a missionary in Spain. He loved it. Nate, my 18-year-old bro, leaves for a mission in Africa on August 21st. Jude Benjamin Newbold was born July 9th, and I love him to pieces. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday in Provo helping Chels, and I got to play a lot outside with Emma, which of course was hilarious. That little girl is so smart and cute and funny and determined. I don't want to think about them moving to Washington in a month. Chels is such a good mom. Two kids is definitely trouble. Mom's been staying with Chels the past two weeks while Brad's been on a dig in Southern Utah.

Okay. That's enough for now. I was planning on only giving a one-liner. Good night!

The Life and Ministry of Jesus Christ Radio Dramas

I just added a new link called LDS Radio—you should see it in the right-hand column of my blog with my other links. It's a brand new radio! Once you're on the radio Web site, click on the side link called "The Light of Men." My dad writes the scripts for the radio drama and has been working like crazy the past couple months to perfect things to give us a quality experience with the stories of Jesus. Let me know what you think. It was actually his idea to start doing these kinds of old-skool dramas again, since they were such a big part of his early years of acting. Brad and I grew up listening to Joseph of Egypt and David & Goliath. So now the radio dramas are back for the next generation.

What's the secret?

Okay all you young married people, this is directed at you per my homework assignment for FHS 2570 Marriage & Family. I'd love to hear all that you have to say about how to have a successful marriage. Here are some specifics I'd like to know. Thanks for sharing!

What were the hardest adjustments to marriage?

What important things do you both need to do to have a long-term successful marriage?

Is it okay for a woman to more successful than her husband? (I'm guessing this means financially and career-wise.) What impact could her success have on the marriage?

What should your relationship be like with your your parents and your in-laws? What should your spouse's relationship be like with his or her parents and your parents?

Goblin Valley

Two weekends ago my friend Lori and I went to Goblin Valley for a spontaneous getaway. It actually all started with me inviting myself on a group's camping trip I saw posted on facebook. Ha ha! I thought it'd be a great way to meet people--they were friends of my friend Anna. It ended up that the trip was from last year! Joke's on me. I didn't even notice that it said 2008. I didn't feel lame for too long, because then I decided I was going to go anyway.

It was the most amazing weather . . . except for that one really windy part when our tent got blown over and our food got dirt all in it . . . but we were camping by the thriftiest and bravest boy scouts and they came to our rescue. We were out hiking when the huge wind came, so the boys (under the supervision of their scout leader) brought our tent back and staked it back in the ground and gathered up our chairs and food.

Our last night the boy scouts even invited us to eat chicken noodle soup and cobbler with them and then they performed skits for us. Most of the performances consisted of shooting and chopping body parts off and talking in obnoxious voices. We didn't know how to react at first, but as the night went on, Lori and I were rolling! Boys are definitely not like girls. I even taught them a skit. Do you guys remember the one where one person chews gum and then sticks it under the bench. Then another person finds it and starts chewing it? And it keeps going with people finding it? I thought they would like that. It had enough grossness to it to appeal to them, but it wasn't bloody.




In the picture above we're acting like goblins.
The trail was marked by piles of rocks. About half the time we were scaling down the mountain thinking we were on the trail. Then we'd stop and think, "This doesn't seem like a 'moderate to easy' hike," and turn around.

Where is Peace?

As I was sitting here on my bed, pausing while reading (my only true birthday wish), I started humming. I was surprised that the words coming to mind were the words my heart was saying, but they were also the words to a familiar hymn. My pausing while reading was to decide where I need to go to find myself—where I can retreat to be alone and find what I am looking for. I can't seem to escape like I need to. I tried to have a retreat day on Friday and ran into Dave's mom, who again told me Dave was engaged and how lucky he was to find such a wonderful girl. I laughed and cried inside, and decided the world was cruel. But then a couple hours later I ran into an old friend Marc (yes, Alycia), which turned the whole day around. There's always a shimmer of happiness somewhere. If you want some, I can share mine with you!


Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace when other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice, I draw myself apart, searching my soul.
Where when my aching grows, where when I languish, where in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand? He only One.


I know these words are not only for me right now in my life, but they are also for a lot of you. So many of you are coping with deep losses. It's amazing how I'm hearing these words for the first time today. Maybe you are too. We all want to be whole. We all ache, some days more than others. We feel alone or misunderstood or wounded or disappointed. And we all can go to the One who can heal and understand and speak peace. I didn't include the third verse, but I love how in there it says that when we're in our own Gethsemanes, the Savior finds the peace we need and brings it to us. I believe this with all my heart.

For my friends

To give a little background on this photo and how it applies to this very exciting entry, it's an apple orchard in the desert. You might ask, "How could fruit trees possibly blossom in such stark conditions?" It's because there in Capitol Reef there's an underground waterpocket fold, which creates an oasis in the desert. Just like this apple orchard completely surprising everyone by surviving in the middle of nowhere, my gift to you will be a huge anticipation and surprise. Like that?

So a couple weeks ago (I'm slow) I looked at my friend Kara's blog and found this hard-to-pass-up offer:

The first 5 people to respond to this post will get something made by me--my choice! This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1. I make no guarantees you will like what I make! (I can only hope!)
2. What I create will be just for you.
3. It will be done some time this year.
4. You have no clue what it's going to be--it may be cards, something delicious, a paper weight, or a complete surprise to you (and me)! Who knows?
5. Most importantly, you must offer the same deal on your blog. The first 5 people to comment on your blog get something made by YOU!"

I was the second person to comment on Kara's blog and can't wait to see what surprise she comes up with! Now it's your turn. Leave me a comment on this post, and I will make you something AWESOME!!! (It will also be something special).

Part of the fun is that if you are one of the first five to comment, you get to carry on the task of making five more gifts for your friends. If you've already done this on your blog, comment anyway if you want and don't worry about making more gifts.

you let life get in the way

As I drove home tonight, I was listening to Brand New's song Am I Wrong?, and I felt a connection.

i can't stay in this place
i can't stand when the room turns round on my fate
you give no guarantees
there's no promise i can keep

i can't stand
i can't see my way
i feel blind on my feet
i can't stay too long
am i wrong?

goodbye, lay the blame on luck
you let life get in your way

The week after I got laid off, I found out I would also to soon be released from my church calling and that Dave was dating someone seriously, someone I knew and someone seven years younger than him. That shouldn't have mattered, but it made me want to yell at her to leave the older guys to the rest of us. At that same time it was also evident that I'd forever lost someone else who'd been my close friend and someone who'd always needed me.

This all came together in my mind while I was reading A Weekend to Change Your Life, and according to the book four or more losses or changes at once means it's time for an alone retreat to wander and regain equilibrium and mourn. At that time I really, really needed time alone to process what I'd lost and to strengthen myself for what I now needed to do. I never did it. I moved on and life got busy again and I just smoothed over the unresolved lumps. But tonight I found out that Dave's engaged and my emotions are resurfacing. I hate this. I don't want to go through this anymore. So I'm retreating. Maybe Wednesday? Ha ha! I better check my calendar. Tomorrow's already full. I think that this should be a good reminder for all of us to take regular retreats—walks through old neighborhoods with inspiring architecture, quiet moments alone with your thoughts and a journal, time to understand who we are now because of what we've experienced. This week I'm challenging myself to find that ideal getaway spot. I'm challenging you too! And I expect some good stories back.

The Latest Idea

Here's another one of my latest, though still a brainstorm. Also while I was in the Wilk, I talked for about half an hour to all the people at the tables set up outside the hunger banquet. I was in heaven! Some of the people were there representing or promoting the Political Review, Help, Field Study Programs, Illiteracy, buying cards made by kids in India, and I can't remember what else. and I got a bunch of good info to reenergize me and keep me thinking about where I am supposed to go next.

I talked to one girl about doing a field study program in El Salvador or Uganda that would relate to my Child Life internship. I need to do two internships to certify as a Child Life Specialist . . . but before I can do the internships I need to finish three semesters of school. I'm planning on going this summer, fall, and then spring (at the U they call winter semester spring semester). But without real work it's been hard to see all this happening, esp. since FAFSA just denied me aid. Huge bummer. It doesn't always pay to get a second bachelors. So I'm trying to look at the situation in a new light. It makes me giddy to think about doing a field study program--the world is calling to me!! So we'll see if that ends up being the right path. It's all unknown. I guess that's life.

The Latest Invention

Have any of you guys seen one of these yet? I was in the Wilk on Saturday and found that it is now too old fashioned to pull your own toilet paper off the roll. Isn't this crazy? I admit I didn't know how to use this machine at first and kept turning the dial on the front that says "Manual." Then once I didn't need anymore toilet paper I realized what the machine did because my elbow must have gone under the sensor and toilet paper shot down. And I think somehow they have the toilet coordinated to flush when it hears the noise of the toilet paper coming down! A little much, no?

Katie needs . . .

Thanks for letting me play, Jacqui and Christy! Once I read Jacq's I couldn't wait to do my own name.

Type your name into Google followed by the word "needs" i.e. "Katie needs". List the Top 10 hits. Here are mine:

1. Katie-Holmes.org Your source for all your Katie needs

2. Funny Cute: KATIE NEEDS HULA LESSONS!

3. Katie Needs your Help!!! « Morning Coffee

4. Pray for Katie: CPS Fails to Care for Katie, Needs IV fluids.

5. What Katie Apparently Needs... - Vox

6. Katie Needs | Facebook

7. Katie Needs To Work On Her Posture! - Celebrity Gossip - Gossip Thug

8. Katie “needs to be on her own” « Entertainment News

9. My Life is Fun: VANITY TIME- Katie needs YOU

10. Kate Moss finally needs a bra

Mine wasn't as funny as Jacqui's, but still funny enough to post. Please make me laugh and do your own name!

KSL 5: The Unemployed Transfer Student

Video Courtesy of KSL.com

This happened this afternoon in the middle of taking a test. Funny, huh? I was sitting at a table in the Student Center at Salt Lake Community College (SLCC). This semester I've been taking two classes at SLCC--one's called Intimate Family Relations and the other is Child Development. It was great to be back at school, and these courses worked perfect with my work schedule since I didn't work on Mondays when I was at Gibbs Smith. Now I don't work any day. Just kidding.:) I actually have been SO busy lately. And since I'm still not used to this whole school thing, I forget I have class . . . and homework (I typed homeowork first. It's always fun to laugh alone!)and tests (which this morning miraculously ended up being a take-home test!!). I had all three this morning, so I was a little frantic.

So I was doing my take-home test when a man walked up to me. I'd heard him talking to another student across the room, asking her some questions I couldn't decipher. When he got to me, he asked me if I was a transfer student who already had a degree or if I'd recently been laidoff. I said yes to both, so I won the spot on the evening news! The funniest part is imagining my old bosses, Suzanne and Madge, seeing me on TV, right Melissa? Oh man. I wonder what they're going to say. My mom was envisioning the whole senario as a good sitcom episode.

The Official Release

Change is in the air, or maybe it's just in my air! Huge changes! After two years of being the president of the women's organization for the church in my area, I was released. I can't even begin to explain the lessons I learned, how close I was brought to my Savior, and how I struggled and rose higher and grew. I loved serving the growing number of Relief Society ladies (ages 18-31)and will deeply miss it--right now there are 114 of us. I loved being a part of their lives and receiving that constant inspiration to know who was in need. I have gained such a stronger affirmation that God listens and guides and knows how we can help each other in His stead. It all works so beautifully when we all take action and are a part of each others lives! I love it! I am so blessed.

anyone know subconscious sign language?

Heavy. Persistent. Familiar. That's the tugging going on inside me. What is it trying to tell me? It's growing stronger. I feel like my subconscious me is waving her arms over her head and leaping through the air in hopes of catching my attention. She has, but now I don't know what she's signaling. Ever feel that way? Usually when I feel this to a smaller degree, it's a reminder to do something. Call so-and-so. Put your water bottle in your bag. Or it means unfinished business, like I didn't completely resolve a problem or figure something out. This is much bigger. I need to go inward. Much farther than ever before. I see better with my eyes closed and my heart and mind open. Part of me is buried. I think. Part of me has been suffocating for a while and is desperate for air. I think I'm tugging at myself to allow me back into my life.

I love that I have more time now to actually write my feelings in here! Writing is like opening the flood gates, and I don't always take the time to do that like I used to. Something else I miss is how I used to draw pictures for every entry in my journal. I want that part of my life back too. Art does amazing things for me.

Today's Lesson Learned: Surround yourself with people who inspire and uplift you. Negative talk is counterproductive.

unemployment skyrockets to 598,000 in january

Here's a link to an article I just read in the New York Times. Technically I don't count in these numbers since I was laid off in February, but it's just something to think about. Wow. So many lives changed. Yesterday I got two freelance jobs!! Thanks to all of you for your thoughts and prayers. Everything will work out. I actually did a little dance of joy yesterday morning, so that really shows things are looking brighter. :)

Okay so the link guy isn't showing up on this entry. Here it is, but now you'll have to manually copy/paste.

http://www.nytimes.com/?emc=na

it's okay to be different

For the past three Tuesdays, I've been heading south to Bountiful for an institute class on the family—marriage to be more specific. Last week was incredibly deep. So deep I wanted to share it with everyone so that I could keep saying the words out loud and thinking them through all over again. I called Carrie on my way home and then taught my parents when I walked in the door. At one point in my lecture, my dad said, "I'd never thought of it that way before." There you have it. The man can be taught! I felt extremely knowledgeable in that moment. The teacher that night was Wendy Nelson, Elder Nelson cute spunky wife. Most of her thoughts come from her book, which was under her maiden name Watson.

Here are some of the things we discussed in our class. Tell me your thoughts too!

-"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour" (1 Peter 5:8). He wants to devour our self-esteem, our free time, our families, our marriages, our priesthood—things he will never have. He wants us to be selfish. He's good at catching us off guard and making us forget he's the one planting those discouraging thoughts in our heads.
-"As the forces around us increase in intensity, whatever spiritual strength was once sufficient will not be enough!" (Elder Eyring, Ensign, October 1999, p. 9) Doesn't this just make you want to reprioritize your life and better arm yourself?? I love the energy this statement builds. You can't risk being unprepared. We've got to keep being more and more pure and more and more in tune with the Spirit because we live in a deteriorating world.
-There's no strength in giving in.
-The difference between worldly sex and marital intimacy is that sex when married is a soulful and spiritual experience—your bodies AND souls are involved, and when experiencing true intimacy it should bring you not only closer to your spouse but to God. It doesn't degrade. It's symbolic of how united your life is in all aspects—service, work, blessing your extended family. It's not recreational. It's a sacrament. Why would we settle for merely a sexual experience when we can wait for marriage to have true God-ordained intimacy. (As I'm typing this, I'm realizing that pretty much all of you who read my blog are married, so this should be interesting.)
-"Nothing has done more damage to the family than denying we're the offspring of God, only advanced animals, compelled to yield to every carnal urge." (Elder Packer)
-You cannot completely give yourself until marriage. Of course there'll be momentary pleasure. Our bodies are wired that way. If we do wait, it'll be more meaningful with more joy.
-Pornography is a plague of biblical proportion.
-Virtual reality is here to replace virtuous living.
-Sister Nelson is a marriage and family therapist, so she's seen the affects of pornography on families. She made about six slides with two columns each to compare how the world views sex and how God views sex. I tried to write as fast as I could, but I didn't get everything. Here's a little of what I did get.

eternal (not erotic)
helps put off the natural man
under the influence of the Spirit
involves spirit-enhanced passions
soulful union is the goal (not sexual goal)
sanctifying experience
generates love (doesn't kill it)
enlightens and enlivens (doesn't darken)
honors men and women
strengthens relationships
body's a great prize of mortal life (not a play thing)
brings wisdom and love
partaken of (not participated in)
a process (not a product)
supports, heals, and hallows lives
rejoiced in (not joked about)
brings spouses' spirits to life
doesn't offend the Spirit
embedded in truth
union of souls
increases ability to keep commandments and covenants
foundation of endless worlds (not an industry)

The feelings and impressions that stayed with me were that I was born to be a queen. My Heavenly Father has set up His plan so that I can have all that He has if I remain faithful. And why would I settle for anything less? I have every reason to want a man who is worthy and who honors his priesthood and honors me. That night listening to Sister Nelson enlivened me and gave me the spark to keep going. My feet were starting to drag. I was getting drained. But her words gave me purpose again and reminded me what I am fighting for.

Necklace

Now that I don't have a job, I am doing all those things I've been meaning to do, like take pictures of my necklace I blogged about a month ago. Pictures are now attached to the entry on trashion. Enjoy and be inspired!

PS: It's only 11:30 and I've done so much. Family prayers are when Nick leaves for school, so that got me out of bed at 7:30 a.m. Then I started laundry while I ate breakfast and even took all the sheets off my bed to wash (which is a big deal because I detest putting them back on for some reason). Then I took everything out of my closet--well, everything that weighs less than 10 pounds--so that I could vacuum. In case you're wondering, I have a big closet. Then I wrapped up all my Christmas decorations in bubble wrap and boxed them up, took the trash out and pulled the big can to the curb, got dressed, put make-up on, took Izzy on a long walk, folded mom's whites, made a smoothie, played with Izzy, and then got on the computer to connect with all of you guys. Future plans: dust room, read the scriptures, take recyclables to the dump's recycling site, take my give-away pile to DI, take a nap, edit Dad's Baseball Box manuscript, finish painting my map hangers, and go to my amazingly deep religion class tonight. I can't wait!

Good-bye Barn

Today was my last day as an employee of Gibbs Smith, Publisher. (It's officially called Gibbs Smith now, but I always have to add "publisher" anyway to explain what the company is.) I didn't survive the second round of layoffs. The whole three years I've lived in the Layton-Kaysville area, I've been an editor at the Barn, so it will be interesting to discover a new life and a new me. I don't know where I'll go (if anywhere just yet) or what I'll do. For now I'll look for freelance editing jobs until I know exactly where I need to be.

This morning was pretty emotional, not only leaving my job but leaving friends and memories. I still feel twinges of those emotions when I think about not going back to work there. But I also feel a strange freedom I don't remember feeling in a very long time. There was so much responsibility and multi-tasking going on to juggle my 17 authors and all the other people involved in the making of their books, and now that is gone. When I left this morning, there were dozens of things I wanted to tell Madge, as if I were leaving my babies with a sitter. But the books are no longer in my hands. Someone else will figure out how to organize the table of contents and where to put the new avocado photo. And everyone will continue "to enrich and inspire humankind."

Suzanne did tell me one thing that gives me solace. She said that when she and Christopher presented the names to Gibbs of those who they were letting go, when Gibbs heard my name he said, "We can't lay Katie off. She's gold." I did matter and I do matter. They just had to lay off fourteen people, and I happened to be one of them. Two editors (me and a woman named Leslie) were let go from our department.

When I finally left the Barn, after taking four loads of books, baskets, and more books to my car and saying good-bye to everyone, Gilbert stood staring at me from the field, baahing as if he knew I was leaving for good. It made me cry harder. Good-bye, Gilbert.

Dancing la bachata with Juan

Ever wanted to go Latin dancing but not done it for fear of getting stuck dancing the salsa with a creepy middle-aged Latin who's missing his two front teeth and likes to shimmy? If so, you know exactly where I'm coming from. So since I've been home from Mexico (3 years) I haven't set foot in a Latin dance club . . . until last weekend. I went on a blind date with Juan Saavedra, a friend of my cousin Tonya's. Juan is an amazing dancer and I had lots of fun even though, seriously, one of my first thoughts was, "Can I marry someone named Juan???" You know you'd have done it too. Most of the people I told suggested that I could call him John. Problem solved.:) But in all honesty, I could handle it. It was just funny.

So I had an amazing night with Juan last Saturday and caught the dancing bug, so I decided to invite some friends to go again this weekend (yesterday). I even called up Juan to see if he'd want to go. He said he was already planning on going with his friend Ryan but that he'd see me there. Cool. That made me feel better because I really wanted to dance with him again, and I didn't know what to expect from the other men at the club. My friend Carrie Romney didn't either, even more so than me, so I really had to do some convincing but she came!!

The first hour I danced with Raul (who kept swinging my hands voilently back and forth), Juan (shimmying Juan who looked 45 years old), Carlos (not bad, but too suave, telling me I had pretty eyes), and someone else whose name I don't remember. Then Juan Saavedra texted to say he was there and where was I. So I tried to leave the upstairs salsa room twice to head to the big room downstairs to meet up with Juan. Half an hour later I got downstairs. You'd think I'd know how to say no by now.

Juan was there with Ryan, as expected, but he'd also brought the infamous Larissa. He'd mentioned her quite a few times on our date, telling me what an amazing dancer she was. The second and third times he talked about her, I wanted to say, "Well, then why don't you marry her?" She too served a mission in Venezuela (Maracaibo though). I didn't know she was coming, which was fine, but it definitely created some awkardness when we had to share Juan. Ryan doesn't dance. He just came to scout out a girl he knew always goes to this club. I don't know what Juan told Larissa about me or about inviting her to come, but when I first found them, Juan asked me to dance. Larissa walked by and said she was going upstairs with Ryan, and Juan seemed concerned and said, "No, wait. Just a sec." She said, "No, no. It's okay." I wasn't sure what was going on. If I hadn't danced with Juan last night, I don't think the sum of my other dances would've been enough to make my night worthwhile. So since I danced with Juan to only 3 songs because I had to share him, it was still worth it.

When my cousin Tonya heard what happened, she called Juan a jerk. She thinks that Juan brought Larissa on purpose to show me he's not interested in me. I don't know if I completely believe that because it makes me sad and I thought he was a better guy than that, but we'll see. Too bad Juan is cute and fun and an amazing dancer and funny. I guess if he really is a jerk, or just a guy who doesn't know how to be up front and honest, it's better I find out now. So much for my new passion for Latin dancing!

Back to Blogging

I've had a few hold-ups the past couple months, but I am back to blogging! Over the past couple weeks crazy-funny things have been happening, and I keep saying, "I should totally blog this," or "This is hilarious—it's going on the blog!" But as you may have noticed, not much has been posted. Let's see how I do now. I miss hearing from you guys, so I gotta get my act together!