Thursday, December 29, 2011

Thank you, Mr. Gardener

My absolute favorite "Parable". Please take the time to read it! It was in a talk by D. Todd Christofferson. Read the whole talk here.

"God uses another form of chastening or correction to guide us to a future we do not or cannot now envision but which He knows is the better way for us. 
President Hugh B. Brown, formerly a member of the Twelve and a counselor in the First Presidency, provided a personal experience. He told of purchasing a rundown farm in Canada many years ago. As he went about cleaning up and repairing his property, he came across a currant bush that had grown over six feet high and was yielding no berries, so he pruned it back drastically, leaving only small stumps. Then he saw a drop like a tear on the top of each of these little stumps, as if thecurrant bush were crying, and thought he heard it say:
“How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. … And now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me. … How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.”
President Brown replied, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and someday, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down.’”
Years later, President Brown was a field officer in the Canadian Army serving in England. When a superior officer became a battle casualty, President Brown was in line to be promoted to general, and he was summoned to London. But even though he was fully qualified for the promotion, it was denied him because he was a Mormon. The commanding general said in essence, “You deserve the appointment, but I cannot give it to you.” What President Brown had spent 10 years hoping, praying, and preparing for slipped through his fingers in that moment because of blatant discrimination. Continuing his story, President Brown remembered:
“I got on the train and started back … with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. … When I got to my tent, … I threw my cap on the cot. I clenched my fists, and I shook them at heaven. I said, ‘How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?’ I was as bitter as gall.
“And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, ‘I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.’ The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness. …
“… And now, almost 50 years later, I look up to [God] and say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.’”




Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Christmas Surprise

I am rarely surprised.
It's a sad truth: When you over-analyze, you are bound to find things out before you're supposed to.

This year my parents actually did it. They surprised me. Or tried to.
Maybe it was my mom telling me quietly that they simply couldn't find a car for me. Maybe it was because I convinced myself not to hope too much. Either way, I wasn't expecting anything big.

Christmas Morning: I woke up early with my siblings to make muffins. We were out of juice. Innocently, I opened the garage door to go to the outdoor fridge. What do you know, a car I have never seen before was sitting right in front of me! I gasped and shut the door.

When I opened the present holding the key thirty minutes later, I pretended to be shocked. I single handedly ruined the biggest surprise my parents were going to pull on me.

But I still got a car!

It's a Volkswagen Beetle. I'm seriously debating putting an Abbey Road vinyl sticker on the rear window. Beatles on the Beetle... you know? Haha..ha......ha. Well I thought it was funny.

I love driving around in it. I know somewhere a little kid is screaming "Slugbug!" and punching their sibling because they saw me drive passed.

Ruined or not, it was still a wonderful Christmas surprise.

Friday, December 23, 2011

A Tiny Truth

Hurt doesn't go away in an hour or a week or a month.
Hurt stays inside you for an undefined time.
Hurt is a tattoo, an open sore, festering skin around a piece of shrapnel.

And you look up at the sky and think "Can't I just be done? Can't I just feel better already? I've learned what I had to, didn't I?"

Hurt won't go away just because you want it to.

But great news: neither will those who love you.
Your family. (Give them the credit they deserve.) Your friends who make you laugh and who listen to you. Those amazing girls who have been where you are right now. And always, your Savior.

So yeah, as much as I'd like to say "I'm happy every single moment of the day", I can't. That would be a lie. I take things one moment at a time. I have this learning curve to go through right now. But I just know: Hurt ends. Somehow. 

Tattoos can be undone, sores can heal, and shrapnel can be removed. The healing can hurt just as much as the initial wound, but it will end.

"Please understand that what you see and experience now is not what forever will be. You will not feel loneliness, sorrow, pain, or discouragement forever. We have the faithful promise of God that He will neither forget nor forsake those who incline their hearts to Him." ~Dieter F. Uchtdorf



Sunday, December 18, 2011

Pinterest Help.

I joined Pinterest.
I don't know what I'm doing.

What is the difference between 'pinning' and 'liking'?
Do I just pin every single picture I love?
How do I find my friends?

Once I get over my frenzied confusion, I have a feeling this is going to be one of the best websites ever.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE help me!

P.S. My username is kimberlypelle.... just so you all know. Is that important? Gah.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Cliché.





We're all in such a rush to be original that we forget how cliché ever became cliché.

All the hipsters are cliché. All the models and the movie stars are cliché. Pushing the envelope? That's been done since 753 B.C.

I'm cliché. I wore an 80's style Latin Club sweatshirt and felt like the hottest person at the school. I claim to read more literature than I actually do. I stay up late watching Youtube because I'm afraid to dream.

Whatever you do, be you. If YOU like old fashioned cameras and scarves, by all means take pictures with the camera tilted sideways and a half smile on your face. If YOU really feel a strong connection to shaky voices and weak guitar, then go find another underground band and continue writing your sonnets.

But never, ever be different just to be different.

Maybe someday soon someone will finally have the idea to be original by being actually normal. Normality will reign, and our pop stars won't walk on the red carpet wearing meat dresses. We'll all watch The Brady Bunch and abhor ugly sweaters.

Then we'll all feel so hip and progressive all over again, because we're actually being "Normal." No ones ever thought of that before.

Monday, December 12, 2011

L-I-F-E-G-O-E-S-O-N

I got dumped.

Never thought it would happen to me, and then it did.
And yeah, it hurt.

But you want to know the amazing thing?
I'm so happy.

Yeah, it hurts when someone you love tells you all they things that they don't like about you. All the things that they just can't get over, that you need to fix. It kills when your favorite person looks at you and tells you they don't love you anymore.

I don't wish that pain on anyone.

I went home and my mom held me.
But then... I prayed. And I know, I just know, life is going to get so much better than I can even imagine.
I gave my entire heart back to the Lord, right where it should be.

I woke up this morning, and I was happy. I looked in the mirror, and I was still proud to be me. I can change to be better, but I would never trade who I am. Today is a great day.

Every single thing around me seems to whisper "I love you, Kimberly. I love you, my daughter. I love you."

I am loved.
And I don't need an eighteen year old boy to make me feel that I am.
My seminary teacher asked me how my weekend was. I told him. He said "He's a jerk." I said "No, he's not. He's an amazing person. We just have to grow differently right now."

Here's the ironic truth of my life:
He'd call me Sunshine. He'd sing "You Are My Sunshine" to me.
Here are the (some of) real words to that song:

Your Are My Sunshine- Johnny Cash
The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried.

Chorus: You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

I'll always love you and make you happy,
If you will only say the same.
But if you leave me and love another,
You'll regret it all some day:

(Chorus)

You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between.
But not you've left me and love another;
You have shattered all of my dreams:

(Chorus)

Who knew it was a heartbreaking song?
I guess things aren't always what they seem to be.

I discovered something about myself: Believe it or not, I can't stand those moaning love songs anymore. I couldn't even listen to "You Are My Sunshine" because it seems so ridiculous to me. If you're hurt: why keep reopening the wound? Let it heal. Let yourself become better because of what you went through.

Your heart might be broken. Someone might have hurt you.

.... but that happened yesterday.
Seize today.

That's exactly what I plan to do.




Saturday, December 10, 2011

Mi Abuelo


Hi, My name is Kimberly. I have white skin and freckles.

And yes, I'm Mexican.

I cannot tell you how much grief I get about this. "Kim, you're not Mexican!" Really? Why do people think they know my blood better than I do? I qualify for Hispanic scholarships. The cut-off for checking the "Hispanic" box on applications is a quarter Hispanic. I am a quarter Hispanic.

"How is this possible? You're so lying!"

Well, these are my grandparents:


(That's Zach, my grandma, and my grandpa. Please notice his skin color.)

He is one hundred percent Mexican.

I feel like I'm part of a giant Hispanic family, full of brothers and sisters I don't know yet.

I hate when people talk about Mexican immigrants and generalize. "THEY are all thieves. THEY are all taking our jobs." One of those immigrants was my great-grandfather. He came from Mexico. He raised a family. His children went to college. I'm his legacy. I'm living his American Dream. I am so proud of him and I want to honor my heritage.

Hi, my name is Kimberly. I am Mexican.

Monday, December 5, 2011

One Year and Three Days Ago

Exactly one year and three days ago, I met a redhead. We ate apple pie together. I've said this before, but I'm so grateful for that apple pie.

So I just wanted to say thank you, Daniel. For letting me be your Sunshine. For making "quality" and "gas" become part of my daily vocabulary. For the goodnight texts. For baseball.

I honestly have grown so much, and I cannot wait to hear about your growth on your mission. I don't know where I'll be when you come home in two years: studying abroad, already married, or somewhere I can't even imagine right now. But I know I won't be the same person I am today. I'll be so much better, and I'll owe much of that change to you.

You didn't start me on my quest for excellence, but you've accelerated my progress by a million.

Thanks for seeing something in me that I couldn't see for myself.

I've never met someone as purely wonderful as you.
Scout's Honor.





Saturday, December 3, 2011

I Like to Pretend the SAT and I Are Friends

Last month, I was taking the SAT test for the last time. My mom took me out to lunch afterward to celebrate. I was so happy I almost cried.
(This is how I feel about the SAT: It is 30 times harder than the ACT. The ACT is like taking a slightly challenging uphill walk. The SAT is like running a marathon while being repeatedly punched in the gut.)

Today, I had to take some SAT Subject Tests. (They are a lot shorter than the SAT, and I can handle them.)

But fate had other plans.

Three months ago, I had to change my testing dates. I felt that I should listen to the prophet of the Lord speak instead of taking a test. So I clicked on the "Change Test Day" button on the SAT website. This (I guess) changed my subject tests to an SAT regular test.

This all sounds so confusing, but what it comes down to is that I was taking the SAT. Again. My nemesis.

After struggling for a half an hour thinking "Why am I here?", I decided it was a blessing.
I needed to improve my score.
The Lord was giving me one last chance.

So I took ran my marathon, again. And I decided to pretend that the SAT is my friend.
Oh, that is so nerdy. Then again, I am a girl who watches movies like this on youtube:


Hi, I'm a nerd.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Completely Rational

I sit at home alone for about 45 minutes between when I get home from school and when my mom comes home with my sister.
(Please don't tell any kidnappers that. Thanks in advance.)

Usually I'm fine and I just watch vlogs and read.

Not today.

I had to go into the basement to make sure the internet router is working. Guys. The girl from The Ring is down there. I swear I can hear her crawling up the stairs.

Currently, I'm as far away from the basement as I can get.

It's only a matter of time, though. She's coming.

Let's be honest: Who doesn't run up the basement stairs as fast as they can when they are home alone?
If you answered "I don't run up the stairs!", then you are a calm and levelheaded person. Congratulations. Invest in a retirement plan and feel grown-up.

In the meantime, the rest of us will be crouched in the corner, praying silently.

P.S. I looked up 'stairs' to find a picture. This is what I got:
It was just to good to ignore.

P.S. I'm really sick of seeing all of the sick pictures on weheartit. Pinterest? Yes? Is it easy to use?

Monday, November 28, 2011

My Apologies

If you happened to read my blog over the weekend.... I am so sorry.
Emotions get the best of all of us.
You've just got to laugh at yourself and move on.
(I deleted the posts because they were so embarrassing, though.)

The good news: Everything is back to normal and I am happier than I've been in weeks. :)

To apologize to you all for my temporary breakdown, here is a (unedited) picture of the view from one of the houses I lived in while in New Zealand. Feel free to be jealous and/or use it as your computer's wallpaper. I give you permission. :)

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Cheesesteaks

"Please come over on Saturday."
"No. I've told you before."
"Pleasseeee."
"No. All your family will have just arrived. I will not go and be the only person with dark hair in the whole house. And you'll all be busy hugging."
"Okay, I understand."

*repeat this conversation twenty times. Seriously. Multiple times every day. Finally, Saturday arrived*

"Please come over today."
"Hmmmmmm no. What are you guys gonna be doing anyway?"
"Playing games. Talking. Oh, and cheesesteaks for dinner."
"..... Cheesesteaks?"
"Yep! Sooo good."
"...... Okay, I'll come."

The cheesesteaks were the deciding factor (even though I don't even put cheese on mine, thank you.)

I'm glad I went.
I met my role model, finally. I've only been stalking her blog for months.
When she saw me she hugged me and said we were practically already friends. I was so happy; I almost died.
And I met her baby. She's got the bright red hair, too. We all just sat and stared at her; she's so perfect.
Oh, and I obsessively played with electric candles. Yep, I made a good impression. Obviously.

I love that family. Even though I was practically the only one there with dark hair.

They can be the Weasleys and I can be Hermione?
Yes. Ten thousand times, yes.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

I've probably mentioned this before, but I volunteer at a local hospital.

Can I just tell you all how extremely grateful I am for my health?

I have decided that absolutely everything can go wrong with the body. Everything.

And I only hear a tiny smidgen of it at  my info desk.

Do you know how sad it is to direct someone to the ICU?

The hospital is a place people are supposed to be healed, but from my experience, it is also where they go to die.

Everyone in my family is healthy. I am healthy. I am so, so grateful.

*Note: Sorry this wasn't a great analogy or something. I wish I could give examples, but I can't say anything about the people I see at the hospital.


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Jeans

I don't go around trying to think of boy analogies all the time, okay?

But this came to me one afternoon and I felt so smart and it fit so perfectly that I have to share it.

*Disclaimer: If I did not come up with this, then I apologize. I purely believe it is from my own thinking.



Boy are like jeans.
You find a pair that fits perfectly. You feel like a million bucks and you get ten thousand compliments the first day you wear them.
Pretty soon they become the only pair of pants you wear. You try on a pair of slacks and it just looks weird.

Time passes, and one of two things will happen:
1) You DO start wearing other pants, and eventually the love for your jeans fades.
or, more commonly (for me)
2) You wear your jeans practically everyday for months and months. You are stuck in this mindset that this is the best pair and they make you look the best.
Finally, a parent or friend must stage and intervention and drag you to the store. There you try on pair after pair, constantly moaning for your precious perfect jeans.

Then, wonder of wonders, you try on a pair and they are more than perfect. Not only do you look like a supermodel; they have simultaneously given you the power to cure cancer. You wonder how you ever lived with your old jeans. In fact, now that you're looking at them, you finally see that they aren't tight in the places they are supposed to be tight and the knees are faded (but not in a cool way) and remember how you had to constantly pull them up because they got so stretched out.

This new pair, you say, is much better.

And the cycle begins again.

"So you're saying there will always be better jeans than the pair we have? Our love for our denim will never last?!" Not so.

One day, instead of going to the mall, you'll go to a thrift store and find a comfortable, clean pair of jeans. No, they don't have the sequins or the embroidered pockets, but who really needs those?
And every day you wear those simple jeans, you will find new things you love about them. They don't wear over time; they gain character!

You'll never have to go jean shopping again.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

The boxes are packed (sort of).

Ten million trips have been made back and forth.

I'm only moving a block away, but it's killing me.

When I grow up.... I'm gonna be one of those people who doesn't move out of their house. Ever.


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Mission


My redhead.
He got called on a mission.

I sat next to him as he opened the letter.
I watched him cry with joy.

My redhead is called to teach the true word of God in Moscow, Russia. He will be leaving for two years on March 14th, 2012.

I feel like I'm walking through a dream.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Sometimes I reach into my pockets and find little scraps of paper.
Right away I think "Fortune cookie fortunes accidentally left in there!"

And then I pull the scrap out and it's a gum wrapper.

But it's okay, because me simply thinking they are fortunes makes me an optimist.

Which gives me hope for my future.

But it's not enough to simply be an optimist... you have to be a realist enough to actually go out and change your future.

Just pullet a gum wrapper out of my pocket. Maybe next time.


Saturday, October 22, 2011

You Are My Sunshine

You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine.
You make me happy
when skies are gray.
You'll never know, dear,
how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.



..... :D

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Balance

At one point in my life I believed that being busy was the epitome of a fulfilled life.
Last year I ran around barely sleeping, hardly seeing my siblings, or pausing to sit down to rest.

Go, go, go.

And I thought that was how to make my life meaningful.

Yes, it's good to do good. Lots of good.
But. It's even better to have balance.

To put the things that need to go first, first.
"What do you need to put first?" you ask.

What brings you true joy? No, that does not mean cheap thrills or momentary happiness.
True joy.
Hint: "Men are that they might have joy" footnote: Joy: The potential to become like Heavenly Father.


So what makes you become the best you? For me, it's my gospel, my family, my goals, and my friends.

Instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off: pause for a second.
Do you feel, in the middle of your gut, that something is wrong? Missing? Out of place?

You don't have to stop. We are meant to progress, after all. But we aren't meant to run ourselves to the grave, either.

Cut out the good, and look for the best.
Sometimes taking time to breath is the best possible thing you can do.

Trust me. You've got this.



Sunday, October 16, 2011

Pick A Song

These three songs that are guaranteed to give you a Pick-Me-Up.


Pick [at least] one and listen to it for [at least] 1 minute.

You want a fabulous day? Listen to one of these songs when you wake up. You'll want to dance around your room. I promise.

Junk of the Heart (Happy) - The Kooks
I just have to smile every single time I hear the chorus. It makes me want to pretend like my hair brush is a microphone.

You're Makin' My Dreams- Hall & Oates
Let's break into spontaneous dancing, anyone?

If You're Wondering if I Want You to (I Want You To)- Weezer
... :) It just makes me happy!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Siete

I was flattered to be tagged, so I'm going to keep this chain going.

7 Things That You Probably Didn't Know About Me:

1. I found a five dollar bill in the parking lot today. That was the start of one of the best days ever.

2. I hate Twilight. How much? So much that in ninth grade I stole my friends copy of New Moon and hid it in my PE locker over a long weekend. (Somehow I thought that was an acceptable thing to do.) This hatred stemmed for an early dislike of vampires, which occurred when my mom told me I couldn't get the movie 'The Littlest Vampire' for Christmas because "Vampires are of the devil." .... My mother later became a Twilight fan.

3. Today was the first day in about 11 years that I had cheese willingly. Plain cheese. I feel like I just climbed Everest.

4. Somewhere in Time is my favorite movie. Well, that and The Goonies.

5. You know The Shire? You know Bilbo Baggins' house? I've been there. I stood in the doorway.

6. One year for Halloween I wore a pink robe. No one asked me what I was. That's okay, because I didn't know either. I guess I was just someone wearing a pink robe.

7. I have a deep, deep love of vlogs on Youtube. My favorites: thevlogbrothers, elmify, and charlieissocoollike.

Bonus: If you ever feel heartbroken (or if you want to listen to a beautiful song) listen to this one:

The movie isn't very interesting, but the lyrics are fantastic.

Hm..... if they desire to do this, I tag Chloe and Laura. :)

Monday, October 10, 2011

Once Upon a Time...

I was five years old. I would stand in front of my fireplace and dance and dance and dance.

I dreamed of being a ballerina.
I took classes until I was eleven years old.
Then I quit.
It was too hard.

Let me tell you what's even harder:
Going back when you are seventeen and you haven't danced in six years.

But I'm doing it!

I think pointe shoes are the most sophisticated, beautiful, wonderful things that have ever happened.
I know that many of you readers have your pointe shoes, but I do not.

However: .... I will. I'm working towards it, and one day I will have them.

Just you wait.

For now? Yeah, I'm that girl who is 1 1/2 counts behind everyone else. You know you always love that girl. :)





P.S. Over 50 followers!!!! I am so happy right now!!!! I will gladly tell any story you all want to hear. Whether it be my best kiss, my most embarrassing moment, or whatever. You guys are great. :) Just comment and tell me what you want to hear, and I will tell you!

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Cozy Up

Pretty sure that when it rains almost everyone wants to get cozy and drink apple cider.
I am no exception.
Yesterday Daniel got his wisdom teeth out. I visited him and laughed and laughed!
If you've met him then you understand.

On a normal day he's hilarious. Now imagine him with gauze in his mouth and ice packs strapped to his face. You can't help but smile!
We simply sat on the the couch for hours.

When it's gray and wet and cold (and the boy can barely even talk, let alone go anywhere) ... I think it's fine to do absolutely nothing.


Sunday, October 2, 2011

Baseball




If a year ago someone said to me "Kimberly, did you know that one year from know you will be watching parts of four Post-Season MLB games a day?", then I would say ".....is that baseball or something? What is Post-Season?"

My, my. How times have changed.

I can [sort of] speak baseball. I love it. I know about the Wild Card slots and the 'Best Closer of All Time' and the Leagues and the Full Counts. I check the stats routinely and I mourn for my pathetic team and I scream how I hate the Brewers.

My favorite hobby is walking through the halls and seeing baseball hats. "Reds... Tigers... Rangers... Braves..."

Who knew watching a sport could become such a loved part of you?
Who knew that one baseball-lover can change your life so much?

Who knew that I could become obsessed with Ian Kennedy's perfectly manicured red beard?

Tell me you don't love that. He has brown hair and a beautiful red beard. So awesome.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Little Moments

I've been filling out college applications.

One question I have been asked is "If you had a free afternoon tomorrow, what would you do with it?"

And I wonder... should I tell them:
The truth: Watch my little sister play Zelda.
What I did two afternoons ago: Take turns with my siblings sitting in a wheelbarrow and a recycling bin being pushed in them by a really wonderful red-headed boy.
 Or, what I did yesterday: Drive all the way to Orem to return a book that I thought came from B&N... only to find out it was from Deseret Book. One of the most embarrassing moments in my life thus far.

We all know that I'll say none of the three.
But don't they all sound so great?

Another success of yesterday: I became, in Daniel's words, a "True American." Yes, folks. I watched Rocky.
(and it was fantastic!)

So, Amazing Colleges That I Have to Impress, these are the moments I live for.

  • Hearing my favorites song played on the radio after being mortified at the book store.
  • Drinking apple cider even though it burns my tongue.
  • Feeling that thrill in your belly when you see you did better than expected on a math test.
  • Hearing some Polynesian boys sing.
  • Getting a steak brought to your doorstep.
  • Really, really long hugs goodnight.

Maybe I won't get to an outstanding college, but you know what?
  • My little siblings are still my best friends.
  • My favorite bands are still writing music.
  • National Geographic is still writing about baby elephants.
The little moments go on and on and on and on.

A little kiss on the cheek goes a long, long way in making me happy.


....Oh, and the D-backs got to the playoffs. Yes.



Sunday, September 25, 2011

Homecoming. Here we go.

Alright. So I went to Homecoming with a boy who... has been very influential in my life. Let's just say that. I was absolutely terrified to go. I worried myself sick!

For our day date we went tandem biking.

I crashed us into a tree. (But later that night he got us lost in Draper, and I had to lead us back to the freeway. We are SO even.)

He was a gentleman the whole day. I was very impressed.

Here's the weirdest thing about the me-him thing: We have the Same. Exact. Music Taste. His ipod could be my ipod. Even the obscure songs are there. It's odd.

After our date he dropped me off and I got ready for the dance.
(A redhead may or may not have come to see me in my dress before I left.) ...... :)


We went to dinner. On the way to the school we had to drive by ourselves. Just me and him in the car. And it was... pleasant.

Throughout the night he continually surprised me. He'd sing all of the slow songs with me and ask really thought provoking questions.

I guess the moral of the story is this: It is possible to totally move on from someone and just see a friend. It is possible to have a good time doing something you're terrified to do.

 "What would you do if you were not afraid?"

And I am very glad he asked me to go with him.



AND MY DRESS WAS AWESOME.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Wait... Life is More Than School?

I forget (very) often that life is about more than getting a good grade.

I know, I know. Everyone says "It's not about the grades! It's about if you are doing your best." Yeah, sure. But if you're trying to get to the Ivy League, your best better be straight A's, constant service, a really amazing personality, and being pretty much perfect.

As we learned, I'm really, really good a failing when I try to do these things.
But it's my dream to get to an Ivy League University, so I try. (And every once in a while I get that sweet taste of success.)

Lately I started an actual hobby. Why? Because I really wanted to do it. Not for scholarships or applications, but because it's something I love to do.
I've come to realize life is more about doing the things you love than going through a list of things you hate in order to get to something that you want.

I've seen this done on a couple of blogs, and I'm gonna give it a go:

18 before I'm 18:
1. Go to the temple at least 40 times. (Shoot for 50!)
2. Go to a BYU football game.
3. Create a mini cook book.
4. Achieve consistently legible handwriting. (....Pray for me.)
5. Do something I'm terrified to do.
6. Start a hobby that will benefit me later in life.
7. Put one of my poems on my blog.
8. Write to a missionary.
9. Go to a midnight premier of a movie. (One of my favorite things.)
10. Learn to paint my own nails. (Pathetic, I know.)
11. Actually finish learning a new song on the piano.
12. Get to my pointe shoes.
13. Reach 50 blog followers. (Help me with this, please?)
14. Introduce myself to a cute stranger.
15. Watch all of the Rocky movies.
16. Choose a number one favorite movie, book, song, and historical figure.
17. Compile a mini scrapbook of my favorite moments in my life.
18. Write out my testimony.

Guys. I'm 9 readers away from accomplishing Thing #13. I've never asked if you could spread the word about my blog. I don't have a button or anything of the sort. I'm a word of mouth type of girl.
But... pretty please?
It is my birthday month, after all.

And then maybe I'll post some pictures and tell the story of Homecoming. :)

Anyway, I guess I'm adding this to my personal philosophies:
1. Things Are Never As Bad As They Seem. (TANABATS)
2. DFTBA.
3. Life is more than a list of achievements. If that's how you look at it, then you will never be truly satisfied.





Monday, September 19, 2011

....And Then I was in the Office, Bawling.

Stay hot, Kimberly. Stay hot.

Cause: I forgot my math binder and my math homework.
Effect: My mom had to bring it into my math class in the middle of a quiz. I felt like I was in fifth grade.

Cause: I guessed that Ben Franklin was the first person think (or be credited with the thought) of daylight savings.
Effect: 106% on my math test. Yes. :)

Cause: I walked into the school and a boy pushed open the door. This door hit my toe at the exact angle required to do damage.

Effect(s): I bled and said: "Mr. Weyand? My toenail just got ripped off."
I went to the front office. Bawling. Not really because of the pain, but because I knew of the impending doom. Just imagine having to get your toenail taken off. Tell me you wouldn't cry.
I made jokes to the guy cleaning my toe. That's what I do to cope with physical pain. I'm a natural joke-ster. (After I bawl for a while.)

Then...
I miss my last class of the day.
I go to the Instacare and get treated.
The lovely doctor gave me fantastic college advice.
After two extremely painful shots, my toenail is completely gone.
I get a piggyback ride to the car.
I'm now treated like an invalid. (Because seriously... I can't walk, really. Did you know taking off nails is a form of torture? It is. It hurts a lot.)

But hey... at least I got 106% on that math quiz!