Saturday, March 31, 2012

I Don't Believe in Failure.

Okay, that title is sort of a lie.
But I believe the only way to truly fail is to give up on yourself.
The only way to truly fail is to never try.

In 6th grade, I made a goal. I told every single person that I met that I was going to Yale University. When they laughed, my desire only grew stronger. I was determined.

Well, here we are.
I didn't get into Yale.

But let's be honest: I don't really mind. I got into BYU and I got into Boston University.
Rejection always hurts, but if you have the right mindset the pain leaves as quickly as it comes.

I've been prepared for this moment.
Isn't that beautiful?
Every single "failure" I've had has prepared me for this one, and this "failure" will prepare me for something later in life. I believe that wholeheartedly.

I don't believe this was a failure. In fact, it's far from it.

Because of my goal, I pushed myself far in school. AP Latin? I would have never taken it unless I thought it would help me get there. That one class has taught me more hard work and self control than I could have imagined.

Because of my goal, I started volunteering at the hospital. There, I learned what character is and that when you care what strangers think of you, you're only hurting yourself.

Because of my goal, my faith in myself and in my Savior's plan for me grew exponentially. I knew that if I tried my best, the Savior would fulfill his end of the bargain. He'd open the doors in my life that I needed open.

So, is this a failure?
No, not at all.
I tried. And oh, what a success I became.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

And That's Goodbye.

One year since Prom.
I've been waiting for that day for months.
And then it was there, and we stood on your doorstep.

And neither of us cried. Not one tear.
My voice was small and I couldn't look you in the eye.
I held on to a tiny bit of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between my fingers.

"Is there anything you want to say to me?"
What kind of question is that? What kind of answer are you looking for?

I think that day made it very clear that I could never be a part of your family.
We both knew that.
So what did you want me to say?
You wanted me to say what I said. That you changed me. That you helped me. That I'm a better person now. In your mind, a little box gained a checkmark. I was crossed off the list of people to help.

Then I said "...and, and I lied. I said I didn't love you. But I do."
How nice is it to be wanted? Please, tell me. I haven't known in a long, long time.
What did I want you to say to that? The truth. Which you did. So that's fine.

Neither of us cried.
Except for I did. I went home and cried myself to sleep. Really. Not because I won't see you. I've been dealing with that for months.
Because I had to say goodbye to my memories. I replayed our whole relationship. It took me a good hour to relive the best parts. I took each memory, folded it up in a nice little square, and put it in a box. Eventually my memory room filled up with unlabeled white boxes. I hugged my Minnie Mouse a little tighter and locked the door.
I'll never walk into that room again.

It's been a year since our first date.
I'm not sad, really.
I still love myself and my life.
Just.... just.....

Neither of us cried.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


Some days all of the stoplights are green.
And your favorite songs are on the radio.
And you have a pretty blue first place ribbon to display in your room.
And you touch Middle Eastern door handles (even though they aren't supposed to be touched).
And you watch British shows with your mother.
And you close your eyes and feel Spring.

And the greatest part is... the day wasn't perfect.
Ballet is still hard and you still eat too much. You felt lethargic and your dress is two inches too short for comfort.

But you know what?
The day still radiates with Happy, and I wouldn't change it at all.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

That Classic Family Memory

Every family has memories that they recount again and again and again.
"Remember that one time..." and everyone chimes in and tells the story even though they've all heard it a thousand times.

For my family, one of those memories happened in Disneyland.

We had just gotten back to the U.S. after we lived in New Zealand. After a long day enjoying Disneyland in all its glory, we headed over to  the infamous Splash Mountain. However, once we got in line, we realized we had a problem.

None of us wanted to sit in front.

1)Dad: Sits in back, always. He thinks his girth will hide everyone else in the picture or something.
2)Mom: She possessed a terror about the drop.
3)Kaelie: Wasn't there.
4)Kimberly: Okay, here's the thing: I am deathly afraid of those animatronic birds. Roller coasters? I love 'em. Fake birds singing happy songs? I have nightmares. (No, really. I have nightmares.)
5)Kelsie: Is not a fan of rides like this. Didn't even go on the ride.
6)Kloie. Refused. Don't ask me why.
That leaves...
7) Zach. Who was FOUR at the time!

The worker at the ride, bless her heart, was all "Oh, just leave the very front seat empty, put the little boy in the second seat, and all of the rest behind him!" and we were all "Okay!".

Once we started on the ride, we realized it was in absolutely NO way okay. Zach quickly realized what was happening. He saw it coming. He knew he was going to die, probably. And there was nothing we could do.

His screams drowned out the freaky birds' singing through the Entire. Ride.
We contemplated climbing out at an emergency exit.

Anyway, we made it to the hill. The vultures laughed at us. And down we went.

The moment was captured in the following picture: 

Please just look at his face. Heartbreaking. A little red tomato with a black 'O' for a mouth. What were we thinking? No one knows.

But now it's our classic family memory.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

I Need A Hug

Anyone who really knows me will know that I'm not a touchy person.
I'm not a big hugger.

Today, all I needed was a hug.
From anyone.

I just needed a "It's okay to cry. It's okay that you are so sad. I love you anyway. You are my friend and I care that your heart hurts and I want to show my love for you. You're wonderful" hug.

Thank goodness for friends like Laura who hug and don't let go.
Thank goodness we only sang one verse of "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again".
Thank goodness I don't have to say goodbye just yet.

There's a polariod of you and me, and I'll keep it for forever.
There's a Minnie Mouse from you to me; tonight I'll pull her off her shelf.
There were once hugs between you and me. Then I broke your glasses.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Hijacking Your Cool.

My cool has been hijacked countless times, and I'm still learning to cope with it.

Let me explain to you a hijacking situation:
You're young. Say, 13 or 14 years old. Your parents like this really weird British television show. You don't like it because it has terrible computer graphics. Eventually they convince you to watch one about weeping angels. And you love it. And then you watch every single episode ever.
You only know like 4 other people in the world who like this TV show, and 3of those 4 are related to you.

Fast forward three years:
Every. Single. Person. Loves. Dr. Who.

But he was YOURS! He was YOUR Time Lord and YOUR attractive British man and know there are a million girls who are like "Ahhhhh David Tennant and Matt Smith!!"

Your cool was just hijacked.
(This may or may not be a true story.... okay, it is.)

It can happen countless times. Bands that no one knew and now everyone thinks they're wonderful, television shows, clothing styles.

Let's all admit that we're slightly hipster and hate when our favorite things "sell out".

On the flip side, I was 3 years late getting into the LOST craze. If people told me that I didn't like it as much as they did because I didn't see every episode when it premiered, then I would have told them they were absolutely wrong. I loved Sayid and Sun and Jin just like they did.

I guess the point is: when your cool is hijacked..... take a deep breath, and let it go. The fad will end. People will eventually forget about Time Lords and boys with lightning scars and the Girl on Fire. Then you can have them all to yourself again.

In the mean time, embrace all the fan art and wear your Mockingjay temporary tattoo with pride.

Monday, March 5, 2012


I will be the first to admit that I love Pinterest.
I pride myself in my boards.

However, I believe that if you're going to pin a craft, you should plan on completing the craft.

I finally did.

I made this:

I now have my very own baseball bracelet!
I could just stare at it; it's so beautiful.

P.S. Follow me here.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Womb Nap

This post is not even going to attempt to be deep.
So, um, yeah.

I took this really, really fantastic nap yesterday.
So good, in fact, that I have to blog about it.
So good it could inspire poetry.
So good that I probably looked like Sleeping Beauty. My mouth probably wasn't hanging open and I probably wasn't* making the ridiculously ugly faces that I make when I sleep.

Guys. It was arguably the best hour of my life.
(That's an exaggeration. Don't quote me on that.)

I was on my floor. I had a small blanket draped loosely over my legs and wore a thick woven sweater. My heater was approximately 1.5 feet away from me. My arms were stretched above my head, elbows only slightly bent.

Here's the best part: I'm pretty sure the temperature was the same exact temperature as the womb.
(You can quote me on that one. It's practically fact.)

I highly encourage everyone to take a nap. Not one of those groggy, slightly miserable naps, but a womb nap.

Some naps are for when you are depressed and then you only feel worse once you wake up.
Not a womb nap.
When you wake up from the womb nap, you're all "I believe in myself and I believe in the world!" and then you are determined to make every single craft on your Pinterest craft board.

So, um, take a womb nap. You're life will get marginally better.
It's a fact..**

*In all actuality I probably looked WORSE than I usually do because I was so relaxed. But it was worth it.
**But not really. If you thought it was.... bless you.