Promise yourself...
To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.
To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet.
To make all your friends feel there is something worthwhile in them.
To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.
To think only of the best, work only for the best and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic of the success of others as you are about your own.
To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful expression at all times and give a smile to every living creature you meet.
To give so much time to improving yourself that you have no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.
To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud word, but in great deeds.
To live in the faith that the whole world is on your side, so long as you are true to the best that is in you.
--Christian D. Larson
I saw this on Pinterest a while ago. I've been trying to integrate it into my life, and I'm having small success. I think I need to try harder.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
What do you have to say about that, eh!?
To those of you who feel that my class load is a waste of my intellectual capabilities, I have just one thing to say to you.
The fact that I'm going to UVU makes that a moot point.
Just sayin'.
The fact that I'm going to UVU makes that a moot point.
Just sayin'.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Fabulous. Really.
I really love school. I know I've said so a lot lately, but you should understand something--I have never been so completely drawn in to the classes I was taking before (except of course the public speaking class i took from my cousin).
Take yesterday, for example. On Monday, I was up and working on a project for my Interior Design class until about 3 am. I then woke up at 6:30 to get ready for my brakes class. Goodness, do I love that class.
Once again, I'm the only girl in my class; I have come to love and embrace this. Also, almost all of the guys were in my electrical class, so we know each other already. All of these things equal a really awesome class. Admittedly, the first two hours of Theory are kind of boring... But we had our first real day out in the garage where a couple of guys brought in their cars and we did inspections on their brakes.
I got SO dirty! I should have taken a picture of my hands because they were BLACK. I even managed to get dirt and grease on my face. And clothes. I loved it! I got so excited that my hands were getting dirty and the guys all laughed at me.
I take the laughter with a grain of salt. There are quite a few things I have no idea how to do that are second nature to these guys. Almost all of them work in a shop of some kind or have been working on cars since they were kids. I'm brand-spanking-new at this and they take every opportunity they can to get little jabs and remarks in. Take tire pressure, for example. Have I ever done that? No. Should I have? Um, yes. I was a car owner for awhile; I admit, I totally neglected those tires.
Anyway, I accidentally let it slip that I had never checked a car's tire pressure before. Of course they gave me a ton of crap about that, but then they made me check all the rest of the tires. That's kind of how things go. They make fun, then they teach me. I absolutely love that they have never ostracized me because I'm a girl. I think they've actually taken more of an interest in my education because of it. A guy will be checking something and call me over with a, "Hey Laura, do you know how to do this?" Or "What's this? Do you know?" "Here, I'll show you". That, to me, is worth taking every bit of crap they throw my way. After all, it's all in good fun.
I want to take all my classes with these guys. I love them like my brothers.
Take yesterday, for example. On Monday, I was up and working on a project for my Interior Design class until about 3 am. I then woke up at 6:30 to get ready for my brakes class. Goodness, do I love that class.
Once again, I'm the only girl in my class; I have come to love and embrace this. Also, almost all of the guys were in my electrical class, so we know each other already. All of these things equal a really awesome class. Admittedly, the first two hours of Theory are kind of boring... But we had our first real day out in the garage where a couple of guys brought in their cars and we did inspections on their brakes.
I got SO dirty! I should have taken a picture of my hands because they were BLACK. I even managed to get dirt and grease on my face. And clothes. I loved it! I got so excited that my hands were getting dirty and the guys all laughed at me.
I take the laughter with a grain of salt. There are quite a few things I have no idea how to do that are second nature to these guys. Almost all of them work in a shop of some kind or have been working on cars since they were kids. I'm brand-spanking-new at this and they take every opportunity they can to get little jabs and remarks in. Take tire pressure, for example. Have I ever done that? No. Should I have? Um, yes. I was a car owner for awhile; I admit, I totally neglected those tires.
Anyway, I accidentally let it slip that I had never checked a car's tire pressure before. Of course they gave me a ton of crap about that, but then they made me check all the rest of the tires. That's kind of how things go. They make fun, then they teach me. I absolutely love that they have never ostracized me because I'm a girl. I think they've actually taken more of an interest in my education because of it. A guy will be checking something and call me over with a, "Hey Laura, do you know how to do this?" Or "What's this? Do you know?" "Here, I'll show you". That, to me, is worth taking every bit of crap they throw my way. After all, it's all in good fun.
I want to take all my classes with these guys. I love them like my brothers.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Holy Hannah
Goodness; that was a tough run! Great, but tough.
I have to listen to music when I run. Not just any music. It has to have a really heavy beat. Preferably a fast one, too. But it can't be obnoxious like rap. I need it to help me put one foot in front of the other. My music is my motivation.
I asked a friend about music that's good for working out a couple of months ago. He gave me an artist to look up. I have never heard of them or the genre. Didn't look into it, promptly forgot about it.
As the weeks go by, the running gets a little harder. Granted, my endurance is definitely building, but sometimes I really need that extra push to get me through my regimen.
Ah, yes. That extra kick in the backside would be new music!
I remembered the artist Kevin told me about. Skrillex. Ha. Apparently of the genre Dubstep. No idea what either of those words mean, but I got on Rhapsody tonight and downloaded all of songs (except for the gazillion remixes) onto my Fuze.
Oh. Boy. I started running and pushed play. It's total rave music. And I love it. It is EXACTLY what I needed. Super heavy, fast beats that kicked me into high-gear interrupted intermittently by catchy melodic tidbits.
Can't wait til I've got the Fuze on shuffle and it goes from Italian opera to this stuff...
It's my new secret weapon against tired legs and abdominal cramps. I'm excited to break it out again on my next run.
I have to listen to music when I run. Not just any music. It has to have a really heavy beat. Preferably a fast one, too. But it can't be obnoxious like rap. I need it to help me put one foot in front of the other. My music is my motivation.
I asked a friend about music that's good for working out a couple of months ago. He gave me an artist to look up. I have never heard of them or the genre. Didn't look into it, promptly forgot about it.
As the weeks go by, the running gets a little harder. Granted, my endurance is definitely building, but sometimes I really need that extra push to get me through my regimen.
Ah, yes. That extra kick in the backside would be new music!
I remembered the artist Kevin told me about. Skrillex. Ha. Apparently of the genre Dubstep. No idea what either of those words mean, but I got on Rhapsody tonight and downloaded all of songs (except for the gazillion remixes) onto my Fuze.
Oh. Boy. I started running and pushed play. It's total rave music. And I love it. It is EXACTLY what I needed. Super heavy, fast beats that kicked me into high-gear interrupted intermittently by catchy melodic tidbits.
Can't wait til I've got the Fuze on shuffle and it goes from Italian opera to this stuff...
It's my new secret weapon against tired legs and abdominal cramps. I'm excited to break it out again on my next run.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
I never meant to be this close.
Oh my little heart; it is weary. There have been some big ticket items dragging it down lately.
My mind is tired too. I've been trying to push it lately and it's struggling. It tries so hard, but it's just not enough.
So much frustration lately... a little relief would be nice. I just don't know how to find it.
My mind is tired too. I've been trying to push it lately and it's struggling. It tries so hard, but it's just not enough.
So much frustration lately... a little relief would be nice. I just don't know how to find it.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Got Happy?
Have you ever wondered what the sound of pure happiness is?
I can tell you; I heard it today.
Now, most people would probably expect to hear something along the lines of babies laughing or little feet running around a house or some other cutesy, cliche answer.
But those are wrong. Dead. Wrong.
I'll tell you what it is: The sweet, sweet purr of an 8.4L V10 engine growing into a roar that sends shivers down your spine and makes your tingly hands fly to your face in a moment of breathless delight.
Want one?
I sure do..
I can tell you; I heard it today.
Now, most people would probably expect to hear something along the lines of babies laughing or little feet running around a house or some other cutesy, cliche answer.
But those are wrong. Dead. Wrong.
I'll tell you what it is: The sweet, sweet purr of an 8.4L V10 engine growing into a roar that sends shivers down your spine and makes your tingly hands fly to your face in a moment of breathless delight.
Want one?
I sure do..
Friday, September 30, 2011
Epic. Fail.
I am a total failure.
But, really, I just couldn't help myself.
I'm powerless against a good discount.
And black pearls.
Lots and lots of black pearls....
But, really, I just couldn't help myself.
I'm powerless against a good discount.
And black pearls.
Lots and lots of black pearls....
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Pants on fire
Ok, ok, call me a liar.
But really, this is too great not to share.
At about 2:00 this morning, I was in my room trying to finish an assignment for school that's due today. All of the sudden, my bedroom door opens and I see my little sister standing there. Without pants on.
"Did I leave salmon in here?"
'Scuse me? Salmon? In my room? I think not.
The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Me: "Are you awake...?"
Jocey: *blink*....*blink*.... "Yes."
Me: "Salmon?"
Jocey: "Yeah. I had some yesterday and I think I put it in here."
Me: "Like in a can...?"
Jocey: "No, like the fish."
Me: *dies laughing*
Jocey: "Shut up!" *walks out* *goes back to bed*
Oh my goodness, I really love the things that happen at my house.
But really, this is too great not to share.
At about 2:00 this morning, I was in my room trying to finish an assignment for school that's due today. All of the sudden, my bedroom door opens and I see my little sister standing there. Without pants on.
"Did I leave salmon in here?"
'Scuse me? Salmon? In my room? I think not.
The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Me: "Are you awake...?"
Jocey: *blink*....*blink*.... "Yes."
Me: "Salmon?"
Jocey: "Yeah. I had some yesterday and I think I put it in here."
Me: "Like in a can...?"
Jocey: "No, like the fish."
Me: *dies laughing*
Jocey: "Shut up!" *walks out* *goes back to bed*
Oh my goodness, I really love the things that happen at my house.
Last one today, I promise
Anyone curious about the man of my dreams?
This is him.
Oh. Did I mention my dreams are nightmares?
Though, that was pretty funny. I figure, if I'm going to be talking about my nightmares, it needs to be a little humorous... Right? Or course right.
You can go with this, or you can go with that.... This is going to be stuck in my head for a week now...
This is him.
Oh. Did I mention my dreams are nightmares?
Though, that was pretty funny. I figure, if I'm going to be talking about my nightmares, it needs to be a little humorous... Right? Or course right.
You can go with this, or you can go with that.... This is going to be stuck in my head for a week now...
I shall spend no dime. I'mma need 'em all...
Goals...
They are great.
Super great, even.
I have a lot of them.
Sometimes, this fact can be a bit overwhelming. *sigh*
I found a most delightful condo/townhouse in Provo that I really want to buy.
Unfortunately, I'm dirt poor and it's a little too far away.
It's gonna take awhile to get there, but I'm determined.
I now declare the next 5 years of my life spending-free.
Not a single dime shall be wasted.
I'm also going to be getting a Honda Shadow. I don't care what you naysayers say. 'Cause you're naysaysers and you live to try and crush my dreams.
Well guess what?? Not gonna happen.
So. Put that in your cage and poke it.
They are great.
Super great, even.
I have a lot of them.
Sometimes, this fact can be a bit overwhelming. *sigh*
I found a most delightful condo/townhouse in Provo that I really want to buy.
Unfortunately, I'm dirt poor and it's a little too far away.
It's gonna take awhile to get there, but I'm determined.
I now declare the next 5 years of my life spending-free.
Not a single dime shall be wasted.
I'm also going to be getting a Honda Shadow. I don't care what you naysayers say. 'Cause you're naysaysers and you live to try and crush my dreams.
Well guess what?? Not gonna happen.
So. Put that in your cage and poke it.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Double digits! Oh, wait...
Even though I realize this is almost a week late, I'm going to share events and thoughts regarding my birthday this year anyway. It was a good one. Bitter sweet. (that seems to be the theme for this past week.)
Because my big day landed on a Wednesday, it all started off with breakfast at Communal with two of my buddies, Nate and Eric. (i definitely carbo-loaded on the best french toast in the world!) Typically, we do lunch together and Brandon joins us when he's not sleeping. Great guys, awesome friends. Nate had to hurry it up a little cause he had a Hebrew class to get to (he's super cool like that) so he was only there for about 50 minutes. Haha a short period of time when you consider our traditional Wednesdays out usually last about two hours. It's my favorite day of the week.
After getting home, I did some homework then went over to Jonathan and Ali's place to shoot some pictures of Ali's outfit for her 21 day challenge. I played with the bubby and watched an episode of the Big Bang Theory (fantastic show Ali turned me on to) while Ali did the finishing touches to get ready for her photo shoot. I love, LOVE spending time over at their place. Mostly because I adore my nephew, but also because Jona and Ali are two of my very best friends. I can talk to them about anything and their advice is always good. They take care of and look out for me.
My bestie, Becca, met us over there and we had a great few hours taking pictures and coming up with statement jewelry options for the next day's shoot. This really was a great day.
This is my favorite picture from that day, which I have stolen from Ali's blog post. Mmhmmm. Love the shoes, the composition, and what looks like Ali's "accident"... haha.
To top off the evening, we had a big family dinner complete with brother, sister and nephew. The very, very best thing about having a birthday in our family is baby-veto power. Veto power = I get to hold him whenever the fancy strikes. No matter who else is holding him. (except, of course, mom and grandma. grandpa nosed his way in there too.)
I was kind of a pain this year, and I didn't give anyone specifics with regards to gifts. (or so i thought.) Instead, I asked everyone to contribute to my Tuition/Textbook Fund. We didn't have cake either; I'm all about ice cream. Strawberry ice cream, to be exact. None of that chocolate crap.
My family. Can I just take a moment and say how much I love them? Thanks.
I love them a lot. There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, I love more than all of us being together. We always end up laughing. Without fail. And this isn't a few chuckles either; this is full-on belly laughs that cause tears to stream down my face.
Even though I didn't ask for anything, (except for doll hands. don't ask. i'll get to that) I was showered with some great stuff. I received a plethora of singing, flashing cards that were pretty spectacular. My family caters to my BSOS quite nicely, I must say.
A new cocktail ring was added to my collection (he's a big, silver, sparkly elephant. and his name is totes marvy. marvin for short.).
Tickets to the symphony were supplied. 3 of them, to be exact. With an extra for a guest of my choosing to each one. (be nice to me and you might get one haha). Apparently a certain sister(in-law) reads my blog and pays attention. I've been wanting to go for a LONG time! I love Abravanel Hall. It's a beautiful building and I performed there once! A few years ago, I got to solo with Thurl Bailey for the Days of '47 Pops Concert. (quick side note; that man is unbelievably huge. i think i maybe came up to his waist.) I have great memories of that event and I haven't been back since and I've been meaning to for a while. Now I can! Birthdays are the best!
On to my favorite gift of the evening. Doll hands. Doll hands and arms, to be exact. The tear-inducing laughter started the moment I opened this one, and didn't stop for five whole minutes straight. I really did have tears streaming down my face and I couldn't breathe.
I do realize that to the average reader, this is probably the kind of present you'd expect to hear about from a psychopath. To my friends, they're probably just shaking their heads and wondering how they got mixed up with me, knowing that I do not collect dolls or make them for any sort of hobby. Comparisons to Sid (creepy kid from Toy Story) and probably flashing through minds at the moment. Allow me to shed some light on the situation: Click HERE or here or here for enlightenment and laughter.
Seeing as I have three sisters and Halloween is coming up... can you see where I'm going with this? Yes. It would be awesome. Epic, even.
I hope you are all green with envy over my awesome family, because they are worth coveting! And they sure know how to make a girl's birthday a special one.
With all of the time I was able to spend with so many people who are so precious to me, there was one irreplaceable, unfillable hole in my day and weekend. My dear, dear best friend Annie. Her birthday is two days after mine, and for the past few years, we've had a joint party to celebrate. This year was going to be extra special because Annie is the youngest one in our group and she finally turned 21 and we were supposed to go hit up Vegas, baby! This of course was the plan before she moved out to New York at the beginning of the summer. I miss her terribly and our birthday just wasn't the same without her. Happy Birthday, my friend. I hope your day was amazing! You certainly deserved it!
Here's to future birthdays and bigger and better plans!
Because my big day landed on a Wednesday, it all started off with breakfast at Communal with two of my buddies, Nate and Eric. (i definitely carbo-loaded on the best french toast in the world!) Typically, we do lunch together and Brandon joins us when he's not sleeping. Great guys, awesome friends. Nate had to hurry it up a little cause he had a Hebrew class to get to (he's super cool like that) so he was only there for about 50 minutes. Haha a short period of time when you consider our traditional Wednesdays out usually last about two hours. It's my favorite day of the week.
After getting home, I did some homework then went over to Jonathan and Ali's place to shoot some pictures of Ali's outfit for her 21 day challenge. I played with the bubby and watched an episode of the Big Bang Theory (fantastic show Ali turned me on to) while Ali did the finishing touches to get ready for her photo shoot. I love, LOVE spending time over at their place. Mostly because I adore my nephew, but also because Jona and Ali are two of my very best friends. I can talk to them about anything and their advice is always good. They take care of and look out for me.
My bestie, Becca, met us over there and we had a great few hours taking pictures and coming up with statement jewelry options for the next day's shoot. This really was a great day.
This is my favorite picture from that day, which I have stolen from Ali's blog post. Mmhmmm. Love the shoes, the composition, and what looks like Ali's "accident"... haha.
To top off the evening, we had a big family dinner complete with brother, sister and nephew. The very, very best thing about having a birthday in our family is baby-veto power. Veto power = I get to hold him whenever the fancy strikes. No matter who else is holding him. (except, of course, mom and grandma. grandpa nosed his way in there too.)
I was kind of a pain this year, and I didn't give anyone specifics with regards to gifts. (or so i thought.) Instead, I asked everyone to contribute to my Tuition/Textbook Fund. We didn't have cake either; I'm all about ice cream. Strawberry ice cream, to be exact. None of that chocolate crap.
My family. Can I just take a moment and say how much I love them? Thanks.
I love them a lot. There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, I love more than all of us being together. We always end up laughing. Without fail. And this isn't a few chuckles either; this is full-on belly laughs that cause tears to stream down my face.
Even though I didn't ask for anything, (except for doll hands. don't ask. i'll get to that) I was showered with some great stuff. I received a plethora of singing, flashing cards that were pretty spectacular. My family caters to my BSOS quite nicely, I must say.
A new cocktail ring was added to my collection (he's a big, silver, sparkly elephant. and his name is totes marvy. marvin for short.).
Tickets to the symphony were supplied. 3 of them, to be exact. With an extra for a guest of my choosing to each one. (be nice to me and you might get one haha). Apparently a certain sister(in-law) reads my blog and pays attention. I've been wanting to go for a LONG time! I love Abravanel Hall. It's a beautiful building and I performed there once! A few years ago, I got to solo with Thurl Bailey for the Days of '47 Pops Concert. (quick side note; that man is unbelievably huge. i think i maybe came up to his waist.) I have great memories of that event and I haven't been back since and I've been meaning to for a while. Now I can! Birthdays are the best!
On to my favorite gift of the evening. Doll hands. Doll hands and arms, to be exact. The tear-inducing laughter started the moment I opened this one, and didn't stop for five whole minutes straight. I really did have tears streaming down my face and I couldn't breathe.
I do realize that to the average reader, this is probably the kind of present you'd expect to hear about from a psychopath. To my friends, they're probably just shaking their heads and wondering how they got mixed up with me, knowing that I do not collect dolls or make them for any sort of hobby. Comparisons to Sid (creepy kid from Toy Story) and probably flashing through minds at the moment. Allow me to shed some light on the situation: Click HERE or here or here for enlightenment and laughter.
Seeing as I have three sisters and Halloween is coming up... can you see where I'm going with this? Yes. It would be awesome. Epic, even.
I hope you are all green with envy over my awesome family, because they are worth coveting! And they sure know how to make a girl's birthday a special one.
With all of the time I was able to spend with so many people who are so precious to me, there was one irreplaceable, unfillable hole in my day and weekend. My dear, dear best friend Annie. Her birthday is two days after mine, and for the past few years, we've had a joint party to celebrate. This year was going to be extra special because Annie is the youngest one in our group and she finally turned 21 and we were supposed to go hit up Vegas, baby! This of course was the plan before she moved out to New York at the beginning of the summer. I miss her terribly and our birthday just wasn't the same without her. Happy Birthday, my friend. I hope your day was amazing! You certainly deserved it!
Here's to future birthdays and bigger and better plans!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Lazy days
August is my favorite month. And not just because it happens to be the month I was brought into this beautiful world. (though that's part of it...)
School starts in August. I love to learn (even if my grades never did show that...) and I'm super excited to be going back this semester! There are many "I don't know"s in my life right now, and my career/major is one of them. I don't have one, and the lack of direction has kept me out of school for the past two semesters now, and I need to go back. With a lack of direction, it was hard for me to fork out so much money on classes I didn't really need. However, I DO know that in conjunction with whatever my major turns out to be, I want to get my Auto Mechanics certificate. So. That's what I'm doing for now. Brake systems and lab, electrical systems and lab and automatic transmissions and transaxles and lab are all what's being served up this fall and I can not wait. Classes go from 7 am to 10 pm. We'll see how this turns out.
Also. Anyone who needs it, I don't charge for labor... Just sayin'.
There will also be a brief brake (yes, that was intentional) from auto classes for a traipse through an Interior Design class. With my good friend Eric. Who will be the only straight male there AND whose Birthday also happens to be in August. Today, as a matter of fact. Happy Birthday, dude. Breakfast this morning was heavenly! (we occasionally visit communal on tuesday mornings for breakfast. i got their french toast with a raspberry puree and maple syrup because on birthdays i can have carbs, dang it!! eric got a free birthday muffin with his tomato/chorizo/egg deliciousness. so great.)
August is also great because it's the end of Summer and means that Fall is just around the corner. Which just so happens to be my very favorite season.
Good things this month. Good, good things.
School starts in August. I love to learn (even if my grades never did show that...) and I'm super excited to be going back this semester! There are many "I don't know"s in my life right now, and my career/major is one of them. I don't have one, and the lack of direction has kept me out of school for the past two semesters now, and I need to go back. With a lack of direction, it was hard for me to fork out so much money on classes I didn't really need. However, I DO know that in conjunction with whatever my major turns out to be, I want to get my Auto Mechanics certificate. So. That's what I'm doing for now. Brake systems and lab, electrical systems and lab and automatic transmissions and transaxles and lab are all what's being served up this fall and I can not wait. Classes go from 7 am to 10 pm. We'll see how this turns out.
Also. Anyone who needs it, I don't charge for labor... Just sayin'.
There will also be a brief brake (yes, that was intentional) from auto classes for a traipse through an Interior Design class. With my good friend Eric. Who will be the only straight male there AND whose Birthday also happens to be in August. Today, as a matter of fact. Happy Birthday, dude. Breakfast this morning was heavenly! (we occasionally visit communal on tuesday mornings for breakfast. i got their french toast with a raspberry puree and maple syrup because on birthdays i can have carbs, dang it!! eric got a free birthday muffin with his tomato/chorizo/egg deliciousness. so great.)
August is also great because it's the end of Summer and means that Fall is just around the corner. Which just so happens to be my very favorite season.
Good things this month. Good, good things.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Music shows the hidden heart
I think a night at the symphony or opera is in order.
Something soul soothing; Enya just doesn't seem to be doing it these days. Time to call out the big dogs. Big guns. The cavalry. Whatever.
Much difficulty I am having with motivation in my life. Except in the health department, for some reason. My body, mind and soul have latched on to becoming healthy. (even if I did eat that dang bread stick, eric! my brain still needs to function...ha. but it won't happen again...)
I desperately need a job. I know this, yet I am having trouble with getting my resume updated and sent out. I need to go to school and finish a dang degree. Unfortunately, I'm having a most difficult time picking a major.
I don't know what my problem is, but I suspect it is closely connected to the fact that I have no direction in my life at the moment. (also, it is probably hard to pronounce.)
The sweet, tender notes of a symphony wrapped around me; this is what I need to do some serious soul searching. I need a little help to peer deep into my heart and figure out what I want.
Something a little more specific and material than just 'happiness' is needed at the moment.
Something soul soothing; Enya just doesn't seem to be doing it these days. Time to call out the big dogs. Big guns. The cavalry. Whatever.
Much difficulty I am having with motivation in my life. Except in the health department, for some reason. My body, mind and soul have latched on to becoming healthy. (even if I did eat that dang bread stick, eric! my brain still needs to function...ha. but it won't happen again...)
I desperately need a job. I know this, yet I am having trouble with getting my resume updated and sent out. I need to go to school and finish a dang degree. Unfortunately, I'm having a most difficult time picking a major.
I don't know what my problem is, but I suspect it is closely connected to the fact that I have no direction in my life at the moment. (also, it is probably hard to pronounce.)
The sweet, tender notes of a symphony wrapped around me; this is what I need to do some serious soul searching. I need a little help to peer deep into my heart and figure out what I want.
Something a little more specific and material than just 'happiness' is needed at the moment.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
It's about dang time
THE INSPIRATION:
AH! Haha *drools*... I love this dress! Basically, it's fabulous. A perfect party dress. Mostly I love it for the zebra print at the bottom. Ask anyone. I'm a sucker for zebra print. I even convinced one of the reps from a frame manufacturer I used to work with at my previous place of employ to talk them into putting it on the outside of a frame. And they did. Then he gave me the frame for free. Hello fabulous sunglasses!
And what girl doesn't need an amazing pair of boots? Every girl does, I tell you! Do these go mid-thigh? Yes. Yes, they do. They remind me of pirate boots and I love them. I've always dreamed of becoming a pirate wench and sailing away. This may just be my chance. Just need to find a ship and the hunky pirate that goes with it. (and as my fabulous little brother pointed out, these would provide a grand place to stow an easily accessible knife. Perfectly pirate-y.) Arrrrgh.
The best part? I already own both of these portentous items. Mmhmmm. Life is positively grand!
THE MEANS:
Say hello to my new best friends! These babies.... I tell you, I've said it before and I'll say it again: The shoes make all the difference! Granted, every time I've said it before I was referring to the success and overall statement of an outfit... But seriously, the right running shoes will literally make or break you. Physically. And physical breakdowns lead to mental breakdowns. Let's go for avoiding those, yes? I feel good about that. And, because old habits die hard (unless you're willing to unceremoniously slaughter them, like i am currently doing with many in my life right now), these shoes are also my new best friends for one more reason. They are now the most expensive pair I own. By a LONG shot. Not that they're worth the most (that would be the aforementioned boots worth about three hundred big ones, but do i ever pay full price for my designer stuff? ha. heck no.) So I've got to use these puppies to justify the purchase. I've never felt so good about such a big investment in myself. So far, they are performing just beautifully with the challenges I've presented them with. And that's saying something.
Now, I couldn't find an exact picture of this next one (i've been very particular about that with the previous pictures. they're all exactly what I have), and yes, I could just go take a picture of it myself, but it's a little too dark for that. I may come back and edit this part of the post later though... Anyway, the next part is the fully equipped, totally awesome weight machine with all the bells and whistles that my family has down in the basement. The running program I am currently working on only has three workouts per week. So I'm throwing in a little cross training on my off days. This will mostly be weight training, but I may add some pool time and pilates in there as well. I want to focus on lifting first and foremost though. I'm definitely looking into some help with this one... (then, in a few months, it's on to p90x. yeah, i'll defs keep y'all posted on that. it'll for sure be interesting!)
There are far too many individuals to credit them all, but the people who inspire and believe in me are a huge part of this. I definitely wouldn't be able to make any of these lifestyle changes without my family and friends who are keeping me in line. Most specifically, my workout buddy Heather. She has played an irreplaceable role in getting me started with all of this. And she's doing it with me. That's motivation enough, I can't let her get too far ahead of me; I'm way too competitive for that! There's also my dad, who is many months ahead of me in this process. A mentor and advocate for my success. These people are precious to me and make me want to be the very best I can be.
And lastly, but most certainly not least, I know I will come out victorious and on top because of my indomitable fighting spirit. I refuse to be beaten. I am going to take this challenge I've been facing for the majority of my life and kick it's sorry, impalpable backside. Anyone who knows me well can tell you I'm one of the most stubborn people you will ever have the chance to meet. Once I really commit to something, nothing can get in my way that will stop me.
Because of this, I feel like this particular poem (which is a personal favorite) is quite fitting and apropos.
Invictus by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
AH! Haha *drools*... I love this dress! Basically, it's fabulous. A perfect party dress. Mostly I love it for the zebra print at the bottom. Ask anyone. I'm a sucker for zebra print. I even convinced one of the reps from a frame manufacturer I used to work with at my previous place of employ to talk them into putting it on the outside of a frame. And they did. Then he gave me the frame for free. Hello fabulous sunglasses!
And what girl doesn't need an amazing pair of boots? Every girl does, I tell you! Do these go mid-thigh? Yes. Yes, they do. They remind me of pirate boots and I love them. I've always dreamed of becoming a pirate wench and sailing away. This may just be my chance. Just need to find a ship and the hunky pirate that goes with it. (and as my fabulous little brother pointed out, these would provide a grand place to stow an easily accessible knife. Perfectly pirate-y.) Arrrrgh.
The best part? I already own both of these portentous items. Mmhmmm. Life is positively grand!
THE MEANS:
Now, I couldn't find an exact picture of this next one (i've been very particular about that with the previous pictures. they're all exactly what I have), and yes, I could just go take a picture of it myself, but it's a little too dark for that. I may come back and edit this part of the post later though... Anyway, the next part is the fully equipped, totally awesome weight machine with all the bells and whistles that my family has down in the basement. The running program I am currently working on only has three workouts per week. So I'm throwing in a little cross training on my off days. This will mostly be weight training, but I may add some pool time and pilates in there as well. I want to focus on lifting first and foremost though. I'm definitely looking into some help with this one... (then, in a few months, it's on to p90x. yeah, i'll defs keep y'all posted on that. it'll for sure be interesting!)
And lastly, but most certainly not least, I know I will come out victorious and on top because of my indomitable fighting spirit. I refuse to be beaten. I am going to take this challenge I've been facing for the majority of my life and kick it's sorry, impalpable backside. Anyone who knows me well can tell you I'm one of the most stubborn people you will ever have the chance to meet. Once I really commit to something, nothing can get in my way that will stop me.
Because of this, I feel like this particular poem (which is a personal favorite) is quite fitting and apropos.
Invictus by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Monday, July 11, 2011
What to do, what to do
Unemployment does not suit me.
I don't know what to do with myself these days.
A change is needed. Desperately.
I don't know what to do with myself these days.
A change is needed. Desperately.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
And the award goes to....
So I may or may not have just spent a whole lot of American dollars on tickets to the National Finals Rodeo for my little brother's birthday. And myself, of course, cause he'll need a chaperon, seeing as he's only 13 years old.
We are super excited. It's going to be a freaking party!
I definitely win best sister of the year.
And we don't even care if Chelsea thinks we're turning into rednecks. In fact, we find it kind of funny.
We are super excited. It's going to be a freaking party!
I definitely win best sister of the year.
And we don't even care if Chelsea thinks we're turning into rednecks. In fact, we find it kind of funny.
Friday, July 1, 2011
On a side note
I was reading through my past blahg entries and I realized I had lost sight of the original intent of said blahg.
Which is funny, because my main focus is very obviously stated right in the title and somehow I've managed to not see it for awhile...
Well, in an attempt to make it a little more interesting the other day, I started looking for a music gadget of some sort to add here, because I really do love music. It is a VERY bright and shiny object in my life.
So it just seemed fitting.
Anyhoo, in my attempts to find this music, I came across what may be the greatest discovery possible for this blahg. You may have noticed it already. I added it about a week or so ago.
IT'S FISH!
Dang straight. And I only realized just how perfect it was after I had spent about ten minutes making them chase my cursor around and trying to make them bigger by feeding them lots and lots of food (which, disappointingly enough, doesn't happen).
When I saw how much time had elapsed, I said to myself, "Um, hellooooo?? Got BSOS anyone? Oh, that's right. I do." (that's right, i talk to myself too. don't try to psychoanalyze me, i'm sure it wouldn't be pretty...)
I proceeded to add them. I challenge anyone to look at them and not touch them. And then tell me about it so I can know you tell gargantuan falsehoods.
One last thing before I head out. I have a joke for you all:
What do you call a fish with no eyes?
A FSH!
Which is funny, because my main focus is very obviously stated right in the title and somehow I've managed to not see it for awhile...
Well, in an attempt to make it a little more interesting the other day, I started looking for a music gadget of some sort to add here, because I really do love music. It is a VERY bright and shiny object in my life.
So it just seemed fitting.
Anyhoo, in my attempts to find this music, I came across what may be the greatest discovery possible for this blahg. You may have noticed it already. I added it about a week or so ago.
IT'S FISH!
Dang straight. And I only realized just how perfect it was after I had spent about ten minutes making them chase my cursor around and trying to make them bigger by feeding them lots and lots of food (which, disappointingly enough, doesn't happen).
When I saw how much time had elapsed, I said to myself, "Um, hellooooo?? Got BSOS anyone? Oh, that's right. I do." (that's right, i talk to myself too. don't try to psychoanalyze me, i'm sure it wouldn't be pretty...)
I proceeded to add them. I challenge anyone to look at them and not touch them. And then tell me about it so I can know you tell gargantuan falsehoods.
One last thing before I head out. I have a joke for you all:
What do you call a fish with no eyes?
A FSH!
Seriously?
Sometimes I really do think I need professional help.
I've always been one of those people who will see crappy situations of others and say to myself something along the lines of "Why is that person letting this happen? Why don't they DO something about it??" And don't come knocking on my door looking for sympathy with these situations cause you won't find it.
Ha.
And then what do you know, I go and get myself into THE SAME SITUATION. Ok, maybe not the exact same situation, but similar. You get my drift.
Like I said, professional help is needed around here every once in a while... (if you hadn't noticed that already, i'd suggest some for you as well. that or you're just not too bright.)
Not that I don't recognize the situation for what it is. I do. And I say something and fight it for a second and then I stop and get walked all over all over again. (p.s. no, that's not a typo. i said it twice on purpose.)
Well, enough is enough. I've had it. No more Mrs. Nice Guy. The gloves are coming off. (feel free to insert any other corny sayings you feel are appropriate at this time.) Etc...etc...etc... You people who have taken it upon yourselves to make my life a living hell for the past little while are going to get what's coming to you...
I do love a good comeuppance now and then. It may or may not be my favorite spectator sport.
That is all.
I've always been one of those people who will see crappy situations of others and say to myself something along the lines of "Why is that person letting this happen? Why don't they DO something about it??" And don't come knocking on my door looking for sympathy with these situations cause you won't find it.
Ha.
And then what do you know, I go and get myself into THE SAME SITUATION. Ok, maybe not the exact same situation, but similar. You get my drift.
Like I said, professional help is needed around here every once in a while... (if you hadn't noticed that already, i'd suggest some for you as well. that or you're just not too bright.)
Not that I don't recognize the situation for what it is. I do. And I say something and fight it for a second and then I stop and get walked all over all over again. (p.s. no, that's not a typo. i said it twice on purpose.)
Well, enough is enough. I've had it. No more Mrs. Nice Guy. The gloves are coming off. (feel free to insert any other corny sayings you feel are appropriate at this time.) Etc...etc...etc... You people who have taken it upon yourselves to make my life a living hell for the past little while are going to get what's coming to you...
I do love a good comeuppance now and then. It may or may not be my favorite spectator sport.
That is all.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Not with a fizzle but with a BANG
So much news. Yet, the more I think about it, the less important it feels. (well, just some of it)
I have learned many new and important lessons as of late. The one standing out the most in my mind at the moment is in this life, we gain and we lose. It's a constant game of checks and balances. At least, it is for me. Allow me to share a few of my triumphant gains and devastating losses:
I got a brand-spanking new disease that I am SO loaded up on medication for! This super drug that's making life bearable causes my hands, feet, knees, elbows (basically any body part left in one position for more than three minutes (really, three minutes, i've timed it)) to tingle quite painfully for WAY longer than three more minutes. It makes soda taste like aluminum (or so i'm told. i don't actually drink the stuff). And will give me lots and lots of kidney stones if I don't drink water like a dying camel. Whoo!
I lost my dream of making Manhattan, New York my hometown for the summer. (definitely haven't given up hope on next summer though!) There have been a series of large and rather unfortunate events to show up on the doorstep of my life all at once, each one contributing in its own way to this particular loss. It's just not an option for me right now. Quite honestly, I can't decide what upsets me more: the fact that my plans came crashing down around me in a fiery ball of angry flames or that all the people who said they'd believe I'd actually make it out there when the plane touched down ended up being right...
Nope, that was a lie. I really, REALLY hate proving people right. That definitely takes the cake for bugging me the most.
I am most likely going to be losing the love of my life (or for the past year, at least) sometime this week. I may have to give up Caesar. I expected this to happen, everyone will disappointme you sooner or later, I just didn't expect this to be so soon. I can't handle taking care of him anymore. It's killing me. (financially, anyways.) And to those of you who are judging me, well, quite frankly, you can all shove it. He was my first and will always hold a special place in my heart. My heart that will never be the same... Even if he was "just" a car. I knew I loved him more than my shoes, but this is WAY harder than throwing a pair of once fabulous heels away.
The silver lining in all of this is that with the loss of one love comes the beginning of a new one. As of last Tuesday, I'm an aunt! My big brother and his lovely wife had their first (who is also the first grandbaby of the family). He is one precious little guy! He's got big, bright blue eyes and the most adorable mohawk you will ever see. His sneezes just kill me every time, I don't think I've ever seen anything so funny! And he has this great little dimple on his forehead that shows up when he yawns. Everyone loves and fawns over him. Except for my 18 year old sister who is afraid of him and makes the greatest suspicious faces when she looks at him. Not that she doesn't love him, she just makes babies cry when she gets too close. Always. It's a gift and I tease her mercilessly about it.
I am losing my super great (awesome paying) job at the end of the week. Due to no fault of my own. The company is just getting rid of my team. Oh, and this is the second time this has happened to me within the past six months. Ha. I think I may have a curse... great news is I AM going to get my job back that I quit to move to New York. Bad news, I'm not getting it back until mid-August. I need to find a new place of employ lickety-split!
I got a cowboy hat! And, let me just say, it's freaking awesome. A couple of weekends ago, I went to my very first rodeo and I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb. Ha, so I went with the poser route instead. I felt much better about that. And you know what siblings? I don't even care that you make fun of me for wearing my awesome hat around the house. I know that deep down, you're really just jealous. It's ok, I know what I'm getting you for Christmas, Chelsea... Also, you can continue to make fun of my country music as well (doesn't make me love it any less). And please, continue with the comments about the certain demise of my future that will come from hooking up with a rancher or farmer or whoever the joke's redneck-of-the-day is. I am definitely looking forward to meeting this person the Fates will choose for me who refers to the fifth grade as his "Senior Year" and wears belt buckles the size of dinner plates. If he's got horses and will let me get a really big dog, I'm cool with whatever. Oh, and supports my pearl addiction. And my shoes. Those are my only stipulations.
This is the story of my life. At times it may get boring, but when it's a party, it is a party! Times like these make me grateful for the gospel. I know if it wasn't in my life, I would be one crazy, raging alcoholic. Emphasis on the raging part... And really, one more thing to waste my money on is the last thing I need!
(news flash: i've reached a new rock bottom. i'm listening to ke$ha. 'nuff said.)
I have learned many new and important lessons as of late. The one standing out the most in my mind at the moment is in this life, we gain and we lose. It's a constant game of checks and balances. At least, it is for me. Allow me to share a few of my triumphant gains and devastating losses:
I got a brand-spanking new disease that I am SO loaded up on medication for! This super drug that's making life bearable causes my hands, feet, knees, elbows (basically any body part left in one position for more than three minutes (really, three minutes, i've timed it)) to tingle quite painfully for WAY longer than three more minutes. It makes soda taste like aluminum (or so i'm told. i don't actually drink the stuff). And will give me lots and lots of kidney stones if I don't drink water like a dying camel. Whoo!
I lost my dream of making Manhattan, New York my hometown for the summer. (definitely haven't given up hope on next summer though!) There have been a series of large and rather unfortunate events to show up on the doorstep of my life all at once, each one contributing in its own way to this particular loss. It's just not an option for me right now. Quite honestly, I can't decide what upsets me more: the fact that my plans came crashing down around me in a fiery ball of angry flames or that all the people who said they'd believe I'd actually make it out there when the plane touched down ended up being right...
Nope, that was a lie. I really, REALLY hate proving people right. That definitely takes the cake for bugging me the most.
I am most likely going to be losing the love of my life (or for the past year, at least) sometime this week. I may have to give up Caesar. I expected this to happen, everyone will disappoint
The silver lining in all of this is that with the loss of one love comes the beginning of a new one. As of last Tuesday, I'm an aunt! My big brother and his lovely wife had their first (who is also the first grandbaby of the family). He is one precious little guy! He's got big, bright blue eyes and the most adorable mohawk you will ever see. His sneezes just kill me every time, I don't think I've ever seen anything so funny! And he has this great little dimple on his forehead that shows up when he yawns. Everyone loves and fawns over him. Except for my 18 year old sister who is afraid of him and makes the greatest suspicious faces when she looks at him. Not that she doesn't love him, she just makes babies cry when she gets too close. Always. It's a gift and I tease her mercilessly about it.
I am losing my super great (awesome paying) job at the end of the week. Due to no fault of my own. The company is just getting rid of my team. Oh, and this is the second time this has happened to me within the past six months. Ha. I think I may have a curse... great news is I AM going to get my job back that I quit to move to New York. Bad news, I'm not getting it back until mid-August. I need to find a new place of employ lickety-split!
I got a cowboy hat! And, let me just say, it's freaking awesome. A couple of weekends ago, I went to my very first rodeo and I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb. Ha, so I went with the poser route instead. I felt much better about that. And you know what siblings? I don't even care that you make fun of me for wearing my awesome hat around the house. I know that deep down, you're really just jealous. It's ok, I know what I'm getting you for Christmas, Chelsea... Also, you can continue to make fun of my country music as well (doesn't make me love it any less). And please, continue with the comments about the certain demise of my future that will come from hooking up with a rancher or farmer or whoever the joke's redneck-of-the-day is. I am definitely looking forward to meeting this person the Fates will choose for me who refers to the fifth grade as his "Senior Year" and wears belt buckles the size of dinner plates. If he's got horses and will let me get a really big dog, I'm cool with whatever. Oh, and supports my pearl addiction. And my shoes. Those are my only stipulations.
This is the story of my life. At times it may get boring, but when it's a party, it is a party! Times like these make me grateful for the gospel. I know if it wasn't in my life, I would be one crazy, raging alcoholic. Emphasis on the raging part... And really, one more thing to waste my money on is the last thing I need!
(news flash: i've reached a new rock bottom. i'm listening to ke$ha. 'nuff said.)
Sunday, June 12, 2011
I live for that which cannot remain silent
"I am agog, I am aghast!
Is Marius in love at last?
I've never heard him 'ooh' and 'aah'.
You talk of battles to be won,
and here he comes like Don Juan;
it's better than an opera!
It is time for us all to decide who we are.
Do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now?
Have you asked of yourselves what's the price you might pay?
Is it simply a game for rich young boys to play?
The color of the world is changing day by day!"
--Grantaire and Enjolras; "ABC Cafe/Red and Black" from Les Miserables
First of all, I love musicals. Especially Les Miserables. Favorite book; favorite musical. And it just so happens this is my favorite song from said favorite musical. And they sing about operas! (even if it's only for about two seconds...) Though that's not why it's my favorite song; turns out I'm a sucker for guys who sing. And this song is chalk-full of them! I love it.
Thing is, I also love the opera. I'd fight for the right to a night at the opera now. (i wonder why the beastie boys don't sing about that too...hmmm...) Lucky for me, I don't have to fight for it.
I got to go see BYU's performance of Béatrice et Bénédict tonight. It's an opera based on Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothing'. It was just lovely. The dialogue was in English and the singing was in French. There were, of course, English super-titles for those of us who don't speak French. I much appreciated these, because all of the best/funniest lines were in the songs. I would recommend going to see it, but tonight was the last showing...
I had little chat with my dear, dear friend who is oh-so-patiently waiting for me in New York about going tonight because I was in fact attending this event with her mother and sister. Ha. She was jealous, but according to her, the Met is going to have 36 different productions this season. So... we'll be busy just about every night. Oh, and add those to all the Broadway shows we'll be going to. This summer is looking pretty good from right here!
I do love a good opera. Or a good musical. Basically anything with good music. Music that can reach out and touch your soul, shake you to your very core. After all...
Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.
--Victor Hugo
Is Marius in love at last?
I've never heard him 'ooh' and 'aah'.
You talk of battles to be won,
and here he comes like Don Juan;
it's better than an opera!
It is time for us all to decide who we are.
Do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now?
Have you asked of yourselves what's the price you might pay?
Is it simply a game for rich young boys to play?
The color of the world is changing day by day!"
--Grantaire and Enjolras; "ABC Cafe/Red and Black" from Les Miserables
First of all, I love musicals. Especially Les Miserables. Favorite book; favorite musical. And it just so happens this is my favorite song from said favorite musical. And they sing about operas! (even if it's only for about two seconds...) Though that's not why it's my favorite song; turns out I'm a sucker for guys who sing. And this song is chalk-full of them! I love it.
Thing is, I also love the opera. I'd fight for the right to a night at the opera now. (i wonder why the beastie boys don't sing about that too...hmmm...) Lucky for me, I don't have to fight for it.
I got to go see BYU's performance of Béatrice et Bénédict tonight. It's an opera based on Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothing'. It was just lovely. The dialogue was in English and the singing was in French. There were, of course, English super-titles for those of us who don't speak French. I much appreciated these, because all of the best/funniest lines were in the songs. I would recommend going to see it, but tonight was the last showing...
I had little chat with my dear, dear friend who is oh-so-patiently waiting for me in New York about going tonight because I was in fact attending this event with her mother and sister. Ha. She was jealous, but according to her, the Met is going to have 36 different productions this season. So... we'll be busy just about every night. Oh, and add those to all the Broadway shows we'll be going to. This summer is looking pretty good from right here!
I do love a good opera. Or a good musical. Basically anything with good music. Music that can reach out and touch your soul, shake you to your very core. After all...
Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.
--Victor Hugo
Thursday, June 9, 2011
My preciousss...
Manhattan is calling to me.
Which, really, makes me feel a little bit like a crazy person because I've never actually been there. (oops, that was a secret...) Before you go passing judgement, you have to understand I hear stories and get pictures almost everyday about how great life is going to be once I finally get there. I need to get there!
(and when i do, i'm posting a picture of the view of the g.w. bridge that's right outside our apartment window, and then you can sympathize with me ha. if it makes you crazy, anyone is welcome to come visit!)
I'm alternating feeling really pissed off about this whole stupid IIH/PTC (for those of you who don't know what that stands for, that's idiosyncratic intracranial hypertension/pseudotumor cerebri. if you don't know what it is, google it.) episode because it has put my life on hold, but when I get tired of feeling angry, I am thankful.
Say what?
Yes, that's right. I am thankful. Not that it happened, mind you; just that it happened when it did.
I didn't know this at the time I had to call and cancel my flight, but the pressure building up in my head (which was causing my previously mis-diagnosed migraines) was putting immense pressure on my eyes and optic nerves. Ha. Which explains why my vision went crazy a few days later... Anyhoo, if I had climbed aboard the plane, when the cabin pressurized, my optic nerves would have ruptured from all the pressure and I would have gone blind.
Phew! Disaster averted; this is a plus in my book. I like being able to see, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible. Plus, I'd imagine the whole rupturing optic nerves ordeal is downright painful. Cause, naturally, losing your sight needs some icing on the cake.
With all this waiting for my vision to stabilize, I'm also going to be here for the birth of my very first nephew. I cannot freaking wait! It's a little bit weird; I've never met this little guy and I already love him lots and lots! Maybe it's because he will be the first grandkid in our family and I've wanted a niece or nephew since I was like 5 and my best friend had them and I didn't. Ha.
Maybe it's cause I just love babies. Maybe it's cause he is going to be super smart and love peanut butter & jelly sandwiches (i had a dream about this, so it's for sure going to be true). Whatever the reason, he is super lucky cause his parents are pretty much awesome. I kind of love them too...
I was also able to see my best friend when she got back from being in Hawaii for school for 6 months. Had I left for New York when planned, I would have missed her by about a week. And she came home to put her mission papers in, so then I'd have had to wait ANOTHER year and a half to see her. Plus I've been able to be there for a couple of other friends when they needed me.
I see all of these as tender mercies provided to me by a loving Heavenly Father, and I am thankful for them and that He is so mindful of me. Especially since I don't feel like I deserve them at all at the moment.
I need to recommit myself to my New Year Resolution and recommit myself to being the very best person that I know how to be. To be a person who can feel grateful without also feeling guilty.
My wonderful friends and amazing family help me with this everyday. I am thankful for them as well. To all of you out there who read this, thank you. I have felt the difference your thoughts and prayers have made for me physically and spiritually these past few weeks. You are all examples to me and I look up to each and everyone of you and look to your examples.
(now i really want to say something creepy about watching you when you don't know it, but... i can't think of anything particularly witty at the moment. a side effect of this medication that's sucking me dry and keeping my spinal fluid in check... but you get the idea haha)
So much thanks.
I am one unbelievably lucky girl. Truly.
Which, really, makes me feel a little bit like a crazy person because I've never actually been there. (oops, that was a secret...) Before you go passing judgement, you have to understand I hear stories and get pictures almost everyday about how great life is going to be once I finally get there. I need to get there!
(and when i do, i'm posting a picture of the view of the g.w. bridge that's right outside our apartment window, and then you can sympathize with me ha. if it makes you crazy, anyone is welcome to come visit!)
I'm alternating feeling really pissed off about this whole stupid IIH/PTC (for those of you who don't know what that stands for, that's idiosyncratic intracranial hypertension/pseudotumor cerebri. if you don't know what it is, google it.) episode because it has put my life on hold, but when I get tired of feeling angry, I am thankful.
Say what?
Yes, that's right. I am thankful. Not that it happened, mind you; just that it happened when it did.
I didn't know this at the time I had to call and cancel my flight, but the pressure building up in my head (which was causing my previously mis-diagnosed migraines) was putting immense pressure on my eyes and optic nerves. Ha. Which explains why my vision went crazy a few days later... Anyhoo, if I had climbed aboard the plane, when the cabin pressurized, my optic nerves would have ruptured from all the pressure and I would have gone blind.
Phew! Disaster averted; this is a plus in my book. I like being able to see, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible. Plus, I'd imagine the whole rupturing optic nerves ordeal is downright painful. Cause, naturally, losing your sight needs some icing on the cake.
With all this waiting for my vision to stabilize, I'm also going to be here for the birth of my very first nephew. I cannot freaking wait! It's a little bit weird; I've never met this little guy and I already love him lots and lots! Maybe it's because he will be the first grandkid in our family and I've wanted a niece or nephew since I was like 5 and my best friend had them and I didn't. Ha.
Maybe it's cause I just love babies. Maybe it's cause he is going to be super smart and love peanut butter & jelly sandwiches (i had a dream about this, so it's for sure going to be true). Whatever the reason, he is super lucky cause his parents are pretty much awesome. I kind of love them too...
I was also able to see my best friend when she got back from being in Hawaii for school for 6 months. Had I left for New York when planned, I would have missed her by about a week. And she came home to put her mission papers in, so then I'd have had to wait ANOTHER year and a half to see her. Plus I've been able to be there for a couple of other friends when they needed me.
I see all of these as tender mercies provided to me by a loving Heavenly Father, and I am thankful for them and that He is so mindful of me. Especially since I don't feel like I deserve them at all at the moment.
I need to recommit myself to my New Year Resolution and recommit myself to being the very best person that I know how to be. To be a person who can feel grateful without also feeling guilty.
My wonderful friends and amazing family help me with this everyday. I am thankful for them as well. To all of you out there who read this, thank you. I have felt the difference your thoughts and prayers have made for me physically and spiritually these past few weeks. You are all examples to me and I look up to each and everyone of you and look to your examples.
(now i really want to say something creepy about watching you when you don't know it, but... i can't think of anything particularly witty at the moment. a side effect of this medication that's sucking me dry and keeping my spinal fluid in check... but you get the idea haha)
So much thanks.
I am one unbelievably lucky girl. Truly.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
I weep and the world weeps with me
My (hopefully) soon to be roommate and one of my best friends left for New York today.
I was supposed to be on the plane with them. Even though it was actually an air bus...
As my luck would have it, something is wrong with me and we don't know what it is. My blood pressure is through the roof and I am now experiencing a never-ending migraine. This post will be short because as an optician, I know there are light waves produced by my computer screen that have been scientifically linked to said migraines and I don't want to make mine worse. I think my head would explode...
I just wanted to express my appreciation for the beautiful storm today.
I weep and the world weeps with me.
I was supposed to be on the plane with them. Even though it was actually an air bus...
As my luck would have it, something is wrong with me and we don't know what it is. My blood pressure is through the roof and I am now experiencing a never-ending migraine. This post will be short because as an optician, I know there are light waves produced by my computer screen that have been scientifically linked to said migraines and I don't want to make mine worse. I think my head would explode...
I just wanted to express my appreciation for the beautiful storm today.
I weep and the world weeps with me.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I have a problem
Let me begin by saying how FREAKING HAPPY I am with this surgery. Back pain? Gone. Neck pain? Outta here. Shoulder pain? Conquered! Every symptom has been taken care of! So great.
With all of that said, there has to be something slightly less than perfect, right? Of course right.
I'll tell you what it is. I have nowhere to put my phone anymore when I'm without a pocket.
Don't even pretend to be surprised or shocked; every girl has kept their phone in their bra at one point or another. (anyone who says otherwise is telling gross falsehoods)
Now, don't get me wrong, I can still PUT my phone under my bra strap. The problem is now other people can SEE it. No matter how I put it in.
I understand this is not a new problem the world is faced with, but it's new to me! Heck, I once smuggled an entire camera into a concert between the girls. And could you tell it was there?? No. No, you could not.
I'm not complaining here, just at a bit of a loss. What do the rest of you do??
Also, it's a go for New York. Woot.
With all of that said, there has to be something slightly less than perfect, right? Of course right.
I'll tell you what it is. I have nowhere to put my phone anymore when I'm without a pocket.
Don't even pretend to be surprised or shocked; every girl has kept their phone in their bra at one point or another. (anyone who says otherwise is telling gross falsehoods)
Now, don't get me wrong, I can still PUT my phone under my bra strap. The problem is now other people can SEE it. No matter how I put it in.
I understand this is not a new problem the world is faced with, but it's new to me! Heck, I once smuggled an entire camera into a concert between the girls. And could you tell it was there?? No. No, you could not.
I'm not complaining here, just at a bit of a loss. What do the rest of you do??
Also, it's a go for New York. Woot.
Monday, April 4, 2011
At least I wouldn't need a car
My heart is heavy and I don't know why.
I believe a change in scenery is necessary.
Now, whether that change is to an apartment in the Provo/Orem area or to New York, I am not sure.
Perhaps New York; I'm getting very tired of this bipolar Utah weather. Winter needs to be done and over with. No more snow!
I love how pretty and sparkly everything is just after it snows, but that never lasts. Soon it all turns gray and quite frankly it's depressing...
Now don't go jump down my throat, I know New York winters are terrible. Of this I am well aware, but at least it would be a different gray.
I want to leave the drama, people and basically everything behind and have a fresh start. Perhaps my decision has already been made.
This terrifies me.
I believe a change in scenery is necessary.
Now, whether that change is to an apartment in the Provo/Orem area or to New York, I am not sure.
Perhaps New York; I'm getting very tired of this bipolar Utah weather. Winter needs to be done and over with. No more snow!
I love how pretty and sparkly everything is just after it snows, but that never lasts. Soon it all turns gray and quite frankly it's depressing...
Now don't go jump down my throat, I know New York winters are terrible. Of this I am well aware, but at least it would be a different gray.
I want to leave the drama, people and basically everything behind and have a fresh start. Perhaps my decision has already been made.
This terrifies me.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
That was relatively easy
Well what do you know.
I'm moving out.
Super excited.
Super freaked out.
And I want a dog. A BIG one.
I'm moving out.
Super excited.
Super freaked out.
And I want a dog. A BIG one.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Decisions, decisions; I can't make decisions!
I really, really want to move out.
Really. Fo' reals.
But I am torn. Oh so torn.
I think I may be bipolar. I'm bi-winning for sure, but I'm starting to have suspicions about the former... At least as far as major life decisions go. Actually, it's even more specific than that; As far as major life decisions having to do with money go.
I love saving money; I love spending money.
I really want a new car. Not new as in a brand new car driven right off the lot; I would never do such a thing. Ever. I'll let someone else take that particular fiscal plummet, thank you very much. New, as in new for me.
More specifically, I want a 2007 (or '08 or '09) Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon in Mango Tango (i'd also settle for black, but it would most definitely be settling). Oh, and with the 3-piece Freedom Top. Yes. This is my dream car that I feel is somewhat achievable. (seeing as my other dream cars are upwards of $90,000 at the very, very least. and by very, very least i mean kit cars. which will just not do.)
SO the big question is this: Do I move out or do I save my money for a car?
Now, some of you would(have) say(said), "Duh! You already have a car. Just move out!"
Ah, yes, this would seem like the to logical thing to do; however, Caesar is on his last leg. It will take me just about a year and a half to save for my Jeep. If I stay at home. Where there is no rent. And I spend little to no money. And I'm not sure if Caesar will last much longer than that. (for those of you who don't know, caesar is my current car.)
Now, I say I'm bipolar about all of this because I'll make a decision to do one thing, then the next day I'll resolve to do the other. Basically, one day moving out is all bright and shiny, and the next the Jeep is bright and shiny. (literally and figuratively with the jeep there...ha)
I can't make up my mind. I don't know what to do.
With that, the question remains difficult and I remain torn.
Really. Fo' reals.
But I am torn. Oh so torn.
I think I may be bipolar. I'm bi-winning for sure, but I'm starting to have suspicions about the former... At least as far as major life decisions go. Actually, it's even more specific than that; As far as major life decisions having to do with money go.
I love saving money; I love spending money.
I really want a new car. Not new as in a brand new car driven right off the lot; I would never do such a thing. Ever. I'll let someone else take that particular fiscal plummet, thank you very much. New, as in new for me.
More specifically, I want a 2007 (or '08 or '09) Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Rubicon in Mango Tango (i'd also settle for black, but it would most definitely be settling). Oh, and with the 3-piece Freedom Top. Yes. This is my dream car that I feel is somewhat achievable. (seeing as my other dream cars are upwards of $90,000 at the very, very least. and by very, very least i mean kit cars. which will just not do.)
SO the big question is this: Do I move out or do I save my money for a car?
Now, some of you would(have) say(said), "Duh! You already have a car. Just move out!"
Ah, yes, this would seem like the to logical thing to do; however, Caesar is on his last leg. It will take me just about a year and a half to save for my Jeep. If I stay at home. Where there is no rent. And I spend little to no money. And I'm not sure if Caesar will last much longer than that. (for those of you who don't know, caesar is my current car.)
Now, I say I'm bipolar about all of this because I'll make a decision to do one thing, then the next day I'll resolve to do the other. Basically, one day moving out is all bright and shiny, and the next the Jeep is bright and shiny. (literally and figuratively with the jeep there...ha)
I can't make up my mind. I don't know what to do.
With that, the question remains difficult and I remain torn.
Monday, March 28, 2011
The completely true and uncensored story of my gruesome ordeal
***DISCLAIMER***
This story is not for the faint of heart. I'm not shy about this, and when I say the story is uncensored and gruesome, well, I mean it.
Because this post is so long, I've broken the story down into a few parts. I'll BOLD the heading of each section for those of you who would prefer to just skim this large amount of text.
BACKGROUND
**I am including this section because I have received a surprising amount of negative feedback toward my decision to have this surgery. My hope in exposing these feelings and experiences is to help those who have disapproved of my decision to understand why I chose to do this. I am offering a chance to put yourself in my shoes and witness the emotional turmoil that has led up to this decision. Not that I need to explain myself or justify my actions to those around me; this surgery is the best thing I've ever done for myself. Of that I have no doubt.
With all of that said, this story begins when I was born. I got some genes I really am not fond of. At all. I don't remember exactly when it was I started developing a chest, (i suppose i could go look at pictures from years past, but i don't have access to them at the moment.) but I know that I definitely had one by 4th grade. (i also had braces and headgear. so great.)
By the time I hit 7th grade, I was a DD. Now, Jr. High is difficult enough without adding immature peers and a large chest to the mix. Unfortunately for me, I also had some not-the-greatest of friends. "Friends". The kind of friends who constantly tear you down to make themselves feel better... Don't ask me why I spent my time with them; I don't know.
Anyway, back to the point of this post, Jr. High was terrible and wore my self-confidence and self-esteem down to little nubbins of practically nothing. I was unbelievably uncomfortable in my own skin. I hated everything I saw when I looked in the mirror, so I avoided them. Not the greatest time in my life, and the main cause of this continued to get bigger.
Now, I need to clarify that the reason for my buxom figure is not 100% retarded genes. Granted, genes were the start of the problem, but it's a physiological thing as well. My fronts got pretty full, pretty fast and as any curvy girl out there can testify: running, jumping, moving rapidly, basically exercise of any kind is pretty much the last thing you want to be doing. Not only is it embarrassing, but it's painful as all get-out.
Ha. I don't understand women who get implants. They have no idea what they're getting themselves into and I pity them.
To each her own, I suppose.
Onward to high school. Not much different here than my previous public school experiences. Well, besides even bigger problems. And unbelievably amazing friends for the last half of my schooling.
I don't really know how I ended up so lucky in the friend department. There are a few reasons why I say this. Because my self-esteem was so low, I became somewhat of an introverted person. To this day I'm still very shy. I also began to hate those around me. I know hate is a strong word, nevertheless, it's accurate.
I am very similar in attitude to that of a dog. Let me explain why: dogs are pretty forgiving animals. With the typical dog, you can yell at or punish them and five minutes later they're wagging their tail when they see you. I am much the same way. Granted, I don't come running back with my tongue hanging out when someone wrongs me, but I don't hold grudges. I don't like drama. I tend to just avoid the people and situations resulting in either of those. I seriously dislike confrontation. I don't typically lash back at people; I'm not easily stirred to anger. With all that said, what happens to a dog when it is abused, beaten down and broken in its adolescence? It becomes mean and mistrustful. Even towards those with the very best of intentions. Again, I was much the same way. In my experience, my peers were awful. Cruel. Judgmental. Not to be trusted. The cause of many tears. In one way or another, everyone was out to get me. In response, I kept to myself. I was guarded. Sarcastic. Just plain mean.
I've changed much over the years, but in high school very few people knew me. The real me. I hid behind the acerbic personality I had developed in my early adolescence. That was the easy route. Somehow, a few choice people were strategically placed in my classes and my life. I know our Heavenly Father looks out for us and knows what we need because of this. As I began to see the good in these people and, for whatever reason, they reached out to me, I opened myself up to them and made what I know will be life-long friends. They have no idea how much they've meant to me over the years or the difference they have made for me. Actually, they probably know that much because I am a completely different person now than I was. I hope they know it's all to do with them and their examples to me. I love them with everything in my little heart.
Seeing that these friends loved me for who I was, made me want to love myself. To be myself. My self-esteem and self-confidence began to grow. I was happy. Joyous, even.
I am in no way an extroverted or gregarious person now, but I am well on my way. This may be superficial or prideful of me, but I want my outside to match my inside. I want to be 100% myself. This surgery was the first step and I'm taking more every day. They may be small, but they are sure.
In order to have the best results for this surgery, it is recommended for the individual to wait until they are done growing. After high school was over, things stayed pretty much the same. It is now three years later and they hadn't changed much. Now was as good a time as any. Actually, it was perfect. Better now than later. So much better.
THE SEARCH
Now we're into the juicy part. In order to have surgery, one must first have a surgeon. Because of the nature of this surgery, this part was a HUGE deal. I wasn't going to have just anybody slicing open and cutting away at my lady parts. Oh no! I was going to have the very best.
After much pestering on my part and many phone calls to various people within our insurance company on the part of my parents, we found out my insurance would indeed cover the procedure. Basically, that was the best news I have ever received in my short lifetime.
With that, the search was on. My first step was to get on the insurance company's website and figure out just which surgeons participated on my plan and were going to be covered. There were a lot. It was a bit daunting at first, and I quantified my search through them many times and many different ways. I was dissatisfied with my results and didn't feel as though I had been thorough enough. Finally, I only felt good about things after I had gone through the candidates one by one.
The first way I narrowed them down was to find surgeons who included breast reductions as one of their practice focuses. You could be the greatest plastic surgeon in the world, but if your main focus is hand reconstruction I'm not going to pick you. Sorry.
After I had a list of the, oh, seven or eight surgeons with the right focus, I did more extensive research on each one. I visited each one's practice websites. I looked at their work. I read patient reviews. I looked at certifications and affiliations. I also dismissed all the old ones. I decided more recent education and hurdle jumping was a little more important to me than a boat load of experience. Especially since after a doctor has passed certifications so many times, eventually it's just permanent and they don't have to learn about new procedures and such. No thank you, that's not what I want.
Eventually I found a surgeon I was happy with. He was a little far away, but he had all of the certifications I was interested in, his patient reviews were great and I really liked his work. I made an appointment.
PRE-OP
Never having done anything like this before, I had no idea what to expect. I knew there would be paperwork. I knew that eventually, at some point during the visit there would be the removing of clothes and the examining of the girls and, being LDS and unmarried, I was a little nervous about that part. To my relief, the doctor was great; I liked him. He made me feel right at ease and we had a good chat about why I was there.
Then came the discussion of things that could go wrong. Holy crap.
Ladies, prepare yourselves. Gents, you may just want to skip this next part.
We'll start with the tame stuff and go from there. First of them all was my girls could end up asymmetrical. Whatevs. They already kind of were. I wasn't too worried; better asymmetrical than so friggin' huge.
Next up on the list, the scars could end up kind of rope-like and gross looking. Who the heck cares? It's not like everyone and their dog are going to be seeing them. Better big, ugly scars than so friggin' huge.
Moving right along, there is the chance I will not be able to breastfeed my children. Now, I was previously aware of this risk. At first mention, my reaction was basically who the heck cares? kids? that's 10 years down the road. Then I started to really think about it. Now, I may not be interested in getting married or having kids any time soon, but I do want that eventually. And yes, when I have kids I do want to be able to nurse them. So it was cause for pause when the doctor told me there was absolutely no way to guarantee that would be a possibility. Ultimately I decided if worse comes to worse, there's always formula. I need this surgery.
Now we get into the freaky stuff.
Because of the nature and placement of the incisions, there's a chance I could loose sensitivity and feeling in certain areas. Um, that's an unpleasant thought. Very unpleasant. For anyone to really appreciate this and the previous risk with the scars, you need to understand where the incisions are. Basically, the scars look like an anchor. They go around the nipple, straight down to the bottom and out to both sides. 'Nuff said.
So now we're going to have a little anatomy lesson here. There is a column of milk ducts, nerves, and blood vessels that runs from the inside of the chest cavity to the nipple. This is true for all women (and men, minus the milk duct part...). This column stretches and grows, obviously, with the breast.
Ok, so when a surgeon goes in and makes the breast smaller, he can't really shrink that column to fit, so he has to just put it all back in there as best he can. If it is too long, when he puts it all back, it can get kinks that cut off the blood supply to the nipple. The resulting tissue with no blood supply dies. And by dies, I mean turns black and falls off.
Oh my goodness, I just about died and fell off my chair when I heard that. If I wasn't freaked out about the surgery before, I was now.
The solution surgeons have come up with for this problem is to just cut everything off, tie the blood vessels and such off and then graft the nipple back on when they're done. This of course means absolutely no sensitivity and absolutely no breast feeding. Great. Fantastic.
Better cut everything off than be so friggin' huge...?
As you know, after much extensive consideration, I decided the pros outweighed the cons. I am tired of a back, shoulders and neck that hurt all the time.
I scheduled the surgery and the surgeon requested the pre-authorization required for insurance. During the course of my visit, the surgeon told me my insurance company had requirements based on height and weight as to how much tissue needs to be removed during surgery to be deemed medically necessary. According to his formulary, I needed to have 1100 grams removed from each side. He tried to pull out his silicon implant examples to show me how much that would be, but he didn't have any big enough. Go figure. So he told me it was about the size of two large grapefruit. Well, this made me a little nervous. I didn't want to end up going from one end of the spectrum to the other. But if that's what it took, okay. Pictures were taken and I was sent on my way to wait for the insurance company's approval.
Two days later I got a call. Insurance had approved the surgery. Better yet, they were only going to require 600 grams from each side be removed. This was a relief. That meant the surgeon would have a little bit more flexibility to make them the size I wanted. (which was a C)
A few days later, I get another call. It was the facility the doctor's office had scheduled the surgery at wanting to verify some information and give me some instructions. As it turned out, for some reason they wanted me to go somewhere that was NOT in-network with my insurance and if I wanted a facility that was, I was going to have to wait until April as opposed to February 2nd. I did not want that. I was not happy.
To make an already extremely long story a little shorter, I cancelled with that doctor and my mom found a new one. I appreciated what she had done because I work for many hours every day and I didn't have the time to go over everything again.
This new doctor's main practice focus is breast reconstruction for cancer patients. This was a great thing I hadn't considered before, but what he does is try to save as much tissue as possible. This significantly raised my chances of being able to breast feed my kids.
Another tender mercy provided by my loving Heavenly Father; I know things didn't work out with the first doctor so I would see Dr. Robert Ferguson. I felt SO much better with this surgeon than the previous one. He was amazing. Much more reassuring, less doom and gloom as far as the risks went (a welcome change), and he took the time to really explain what would happen during the surgery. I had to wait until the end of February because he had some cancer patient surgeries and then he went on a medical mission for something for a couple of weeks, but it was so worth the wait.
The Surgery
All the typical stuff happened at the hospital the day of. I checked in at 9:30 with my mom. I had my vitals checked, and I.V. put in (by the way, the nurse totally sucked at putting it in my hand and I just about died. so painful. but i didn't hit her, so it was all good.) Dr. Ferguson came in to mark where the incisions would be and then the anesthesiologist came and walked me to the operating room. I laid down on the operating table, he shot me up with the meds and 5 hours later I woke up with smaller boobs and a big, fat lip. (i still don't know how that happened)
The pain was intense. I made the post-op nurse shoot me up with meds about 5 times before I even felt a dent in the pain, but about a minute after that fifth shot, the relief was intense. My pain levels went from an 8 to a 3. It was amazing. During that time, my mother came in and told me Dr. Ferguson had said he did NOT want me to lay around in bed, but he wanted me up and moving.
I don't know what it is about anesthesia, but every time I've had it, I end up getting really pissed off at something. That announcement from my mom was the kicker; I was not happy about it.
The pain meds were great, but they also made me not want to breathe. Ha. I was hooked up to a really irritating machine monitoring my blood-oxygen levels and it kept beeping every time I started to drift off to sleep because my levels would drop to about 85%. Which apparently isn't good. I was appreciative that they cared so much, but I hated the dang machine.
I was really thirsty and drank about 3 cups of water, a cup of apple juice and a cup of sprite. Then the nurse decided that the time for me to go home was drawing near and decided it was time to take the catheter out. SURPRISE! Glad I was out of it for the insertion.. But she just lifted the blankets up and pulled that sucker right out of there. Talk about uncomfortable. Haha and about a minute after she took it out, I told her I needed to pee. She told me it was just irritation from the removal, but I was insistent. I wasn't trying to be annoying, I really felt like I had to pee. So she helps me hobble the twenty feet to the bathroom, I sit down and nothing happens.
"I guess you were right; I don't need to go."
"*sigh*"
But the bed I was on was SO warm and the bathroom was cold and felt so good that I kind of just sat there for a few minutes enjoying not being under a million blankets. It was delightful.
When I got back to my little recovery area, I sat on the recliner instead of getting back on the bed. Rested for about ten more minutes and then proceeded to get dressed. I was then put in a wheelchair and wheeled out to the waiting suburban. It was about 7:30, I think. We were there for 10 hours.
My poor mother. She had to stay in the hospital the whole time we were there in case something happened. She gave up her day for me and I love her very much for being willing to do that for me.
We got home and I walked from the car through the garage into the house and promptly threw up all the liquid I had consumed. I was okay with it though cause it just tasted like watered down sprite. No nasty stomach acid taste, for which I was grateful.
A couple of friends came over that night and were just as delighted as I was with the results. And just as grossed out at the drains the surgeon had put in. The incisions were under my arms on both sides; a tube came out of them and was connected to little clear, plastic containers the size of hand grenades and collected the blood and other bodily fluids that drained from the surgery site. Better out than in, even though it was super gross.
POST-OP
The surgery went great. There weren't really any complications. As it turned out, 1339 grams were removed from the right side and 1427 grams from the left. A grand total of 5.5 lbs. Imagine having that weighing down on your front for so many years. Needless to say, the relief was instant. My back, shoulders and neck don't hurt anymore.
Everyone has been impressed with the results. My friends have a hard time not staring. I don't mind; ha once I jokingly told a friend "my eyes are up here". Her response? "Whatever" as she continued to stare. It was great.
Nobody has been as happy with the results as I am. I was off my percocet, and all pain medication for that matter, after one week and back to work after two.
Everything is healing beautifully, nothing is dead or falling off and I am ecstatic with the results.
I still have no idea what size I am though. I'll let you know when I figure that out.
This story is not for the faint of heart. I'm not shy about this, and when I say the story is uncensored and gruesome, well, I mean it.
Because this post is so long, I've broken the story down into a few parts. I'll BOLD the heading of each section for those of you who would prefer to just skim this large amount of text.
BACKGROUND
**I am including this section because I have received a surprising amount of negative feedback toward my decision to have this surgery. My hope in exposing these feelings and experiences is to help those who have disapproved of my decision to understand why I chose to do this. I am offering a chance to put yourself in my shoes and witness the emotional turmoil that has led up to this decision. Not that I need to explain myself or justify my actions to those around me; this surgery is the best thing I've ever done for myself. Of that I have no doubt.
With all of that said, this story begins when I was born. I got some genes I really am not fond of. At all. I don't remember exactly when it was I started developing a chest, (i suppose i could go look at pictures from years past, but i don't have access to them at the moment.) but I know that I definitely had one by 4th grade. (i also had braces and headgear. so great.)
By the time I hit 7th grade, I was a DD. Now, Jr. High is difficult enough without adding immature peers and a large chest to the mix. Unfortunately for me, I also had some not-the-greatest of friends. "Friends". The kind of friends who constantly tear you down to make themselves feel better... Don't ask me why I spent my time with them; I don't know.
Anyway, back to the point of this post, Jr. High was terrible and wore my self-confidence and self-esteem down to little nubbins of practically nothing. I was unbelievably uncomfortable in my own skin. I hated everything I saw when I looked in the mirror, so I avoided them. Not the greatest time in my life, and the main cause of this continued to get bigger.
Now, I need to clarify that the reason for my buxom figure is not 100% retarded genes. Granted, genes were the start of the problem, but it's a physiological thing as well. My fronts got pretty full, pretty fast and as any curvy girl out there can testify: running, jumping, moving rapidly, basically exercise of any kind is pretty much the last thing you want to be doing. Not only is it embarrassing, but it's painful as all get-out.
Ha. I don't understand women who get implants. They have no idea what they're getting themselves into and I pity them.
To each her own, I suppose.
Onward to high school. Not much different here than my previous public school experiences. Well, besides even bigger problems. And unbelievably amazing friends for the last half of my schooling.
I don't really know how I ended up so lucky in the friend department. There are a few reasons why I say this. Because my self-esteem was so low, I became somewhat of an introverted person. To this day I'm still very shy. I also began to hate those around me. I know hate is a strong word, nevertheless, it's accurate.
I am very similar in attitude to that of a dog. Let me explain why: dogs are pretty forgiving animals. With the typical dog, you can yell at or punish them and five minutes later they're wagging their tail when they see you. I am much the same way. Granted, I don't come running back with my tongue hanging out when someone wrongs me, but I don't hold grudges. I don't like drama. I tend to just avoid the people and situations resulting in either of those. I seriously dislike confrontation. I don't typically lash back at people; I'm not easily stirred to anger. With all that said, what happens to a dog when it is abused, beaten down and broken in its adolescence? It becomes mean and mistrustful. Even towards those with the very best of intentions. Again, I was much the same way. In my experience, my peers were awful. Cruel. Judgmental. Not to be trusted. The cause of many tears. In one way or another, everyone was out to get me. In response, I kept to myself. I was guarded. Sarcastic. Just plain mean.
I've changed much over the years, but in high school very few people knew me. The real me. I hid behind the acerbic personality I had developed in my early adolescence. That was the easy route. Somehow, a few choice people were strategically placed in my classes and my life. I know our Heavenly Father looks out for us and knows what we need because of this. As I began to see the good in these people and, for whatever reason, they reached out to me, I opened myself up to them and made what I know will be life-long friends. They have no idea how much they've meant to me over the years or the difference they have made for me. Actually, they probably know that much because I am a completely different person now than I was. I hope they know it's all to do with them and their examples to me. I love them with everything in my little heart.
Seeing that these friends loved me for who I was, made me want to love myself. To be myself. My self-esteem and self-confidence began to grow. I was happy. Joyous, even.
I am in no way an extroverted or gregarious person now, but I am well on my way. This may be superficial or prideful of me, but I want my outside to match my inside. I want to be 100% myself. This surgery was the first step and I'm taking more every day. They may be small, but they are sure.
In order to have the best results for this surgery, it is recommended for the individual to wait until they are done growing. After high school was over, things stayed pretty much the same. It is now three years later and they hadn't changed much. Now was as good a time as any. Actually, it was perfect. Better now than later. So much better.
THE SEARCH
Now we're into the juicy part. In order to have surgery, one must first have a surgeon. Because of the nature of this surgery, this part was a HUGE deal. I wasn't going to have just anybody slicing open and cutting away at my lady parts. Oh no! I was going to have the very best.
After much pestering on my part and many phone calls to various people within our insurance company on the part of my parents, we found out my insurance would indeed cover the procedure. Basically, that was the best news I have ever received in my short lifetime.
With that, the search was on. My first step was to get on the insurance company's website and figure out just which surgeons participated on my plan and were going to be covered. There were a lot. It was a bit daunting at first, and I quantified my search through them many times and many different ways. I was dissatisfied with my results and didn't feel as though I had been thorough enough. Finally, I only felt good about things after I had gone through the candidates one by one.
The first way I narrowed them down was to find surgeons who included breast reductions as one of their practice focuses. You could be the greatest plastic surgeon in the world, but if your main focus is hand reconstruction I'm not going to pick you. Sorry.
After I had a list of the, oh, seven or eight surgeons with the right focus, I did more extensive research on each one. I visited each one's practice websites. I looked at their work. I read patient reviews. I looked at certifications and affiliations. I also dismissed all the old ones. I decided more recent education and hurdle jumping was a little more important to me than a boat load of experience. Especially since after a doctor has passed certifications so many times, eventually it's just permanent and they don't have to learn about new procedures and such. No thank you, that's not what I want.
Eventually I found a surgeon I was happy with. He was a little far away, but he had all of the certifications I was interested in, his patient reviews were great and I really liked his work. I made an appointment.
PRE-OP
Never having done anything like this before, I had no idea what to expect. I knew there would be paperwork. I knew that eventually, at some point during the visit there would be the removing of clothes and the examining of the girls and, being LDS and unmarried, I was a little nervous about that part. To my relief, the doctor was great; I liked him. He made me feel right at ease and we had a good chat about why I was there.
Then came the discussion of things that could go wrong. Holy crap.
Ladies, prepare yourselves. Gents, you may just want to skip this next part.
We'll start with the tame stuff and go from there. First of them all was my girls could end up asymmetrical. Whatevs. They already kind of were. I wasn't too worried; better asymmetrical than so friggin' huge.
Next up on the list, the scars could end up kind of rope-like and gross looking. Who the heck cares? It's not like everyone and their dog are going to be seeing them. Better big, ugly scars than so friggin' huge.
Moving right along, there is the chance I will not be able to breastfeed my children. Now, I was previously aware of this risk. At first mention, my reaction was basically who the heck cares? kids? that's 10 years down the road. Then I started to really think about it. Now, I may not be interested in getting married or having kids any time soon, but I do want that eventually. And yes, when I have kids I do want to be able to nurse them. So it was cause for pause when the doctor told me there was absolutely no way to guarantee that would be a possibility. Ultimately I decided if worse comes to worse, there's always formula. I need this surgery.
Now we get into the freaky stuff.
Because of the nature and placement of the incisions, there's a chance I could loose sensitivity and feeling in certain areas. Um, that's an unpleasant thought. Very unpleasant. For anyone to really appreciate this and the previous risk with the scars, you need to understand where the incisions are. Basically, the scars look like an anchor. They go around the nipple, straight down to the bottom and out to both sides. 'Nuff said.
So now we're going to have a little anatomy lesson here. There is a column of milk ducts, nerves, and blood vessels that runs from the inside of the chest cavity to the nipple. This is true for all women (and men, minus the milk duct part...). This column stretches and grows, obviously, with the breast.
Ok, so when a surgeon goes in and makes the breast smaller, he can't really shrink that column to fit, so he has to just put it all back in there as best he can. If it is too long, when he puts it all back, it can get kinks that cut off the blood supply to the nipple. The resulting tissue with no blood supply dies. And by dies, I mean turns black and falls off.
Oh my goodness, I just about died and fell off my chair when I heard that. If I wasn't freaked out about the surgery before, I was now.
The solution surgeons have come up with for this problem is to just cut everything off, tie the blood vessels and such off and then graft the nipple back on when they're done. This of course means absolutely no sensitivity and absolutely no breast feeding. Great. Fantastic.
Better cut everything off than be so friggin' huge...?
As you know, after much extensive consideration, I decided the pros outweighed the cons. I am tired of a back, shoulders and neck that hurt all the time.
I scheduled the surgery and the surgeon requested the pre-authorization required for insurance. During the course of my visit, the surgeon told me my insurance company had requirements based on height and weight as to how much tissue needs to be removed during surgery to be deemed medically necessary. According to his formulary, I needed to have 1100 grams removed from each side. He tried to pull out his silicon implant examples to show me how much that would be, but he didn't have any big enough. Go figure. So he told me it was about the size of two large grapefruit. Well, this made me a little nervous. I didn't want to end up going from one end of the spectrum to the other. But if that's what it took, okay. Pictures were taken and I was sent on my way to wait for the insurance company's approval.
Two days later I got a call. Insurance had approved the surgery. Better yet, they were only going to require 600 grams from each side be removed. This was a relief. That meant the surgeon would have a little bit more flexibility to make them the size I wanted. (which was a C)
A few days later, I get another call. It was the facility the doctor's office had scheduled the surgery at wanting to verify some information and give me some instructions. As it turned out, for some reason they wanted me to go somewhere that was NOT in-network with my insurance and if I wanted a facility that was, I was going to have to wait until April as opposed to February 2nd. I did not want that. I was not happy.
To make an already extremely long story a little shorter, I cancelled with that doctor and my mom found a new one. I appreciated what she had done because I work for many hours every day and I didn't have the time to go over everything again.
This new doctor's main practice focus is breast reconstruction for cancer patients. This was a great thing I hadn't considered before, but what he does is try to save as much tissue as possible. This significantly raised my chances of being able to breast feed my kids.
Another tender mercy provided by my loving Heavenly Father; I know things didn't work out with the first doctor so I would see Dr. Robert Ferguson. I felt SO much better with this surgeon than the previous one. He was amazing. Much more reassuring, less doom and gloom as far as the risks went (a welcome change), and he took the time to really explain what would happen during the surgery. I had to wait until the end of February because he had some cancer patient surgeries and then he went on a medical mission for something for a couple of weeks, but it was so worth the wait.
The Surgery
All the typical stuff happened at the hospital the day of. I checked in at 9:30 with my mom. I had my vitals checked, and I.V. put in (by the way, the nurse totally sucked at putting it in my hand and I just about died. so painful. but i didn't hit her, so it was all good.) Dr. Ferguson came in to mark where the incisions would be and then the anesthesiologist came and walked me to the operating room. I laid down on the operating table, he shot me up with the meds and 5 hours later I woke up with smaller boobs and a big, fat lip. (i still don't know how that happened)
The pain was intense. I made the post-op nurse shoot me up with meds about 5 times before I even felt a dent in the pain, but about a minute after that fifth shot, the relief was intense. My pain levels went from an 8 to a 3. It was amazing. During that time, my mother came in and told me Dr. Ferguson had said he did NOT want me to lay around in bed, but he wanted me up and moving.
I don't know what it is about anesthesia, but every time I've had it, I end up getting really pissed off at something. That announcement from my mom was the kicker; I was not happy about it.
The pain meds were great, but they also made me not want to breathe. Ha. I was hooked up to a really irritating machine monitoring my blood-oxygen levels and it kept beeping every time I started to drift off to sleep because my levels would drop to about 85%. Which apparently isn't good. I was appreciative that they cared so much, but I hated the dang machine.
I was really thirsty and drank about 3 cups of water, a cup of apple juice and a cup of sprite. Then the nurse decided that the time for me to go home was drawing near and decided it was time to take the catheter out. SURPRISE! Glad I was out of it for the insertion.. But she just lifted the blankets up and pulled that sucker right out of there. Talk about uncomfortable. Haha and about a minute after she took it out, I told her I needed to pee. She told me it was just irritation from the removal, but I was insistent. I wasn't trying to be annoying, I really felt like I had to pee. So she helps me hobble the twenty feet to the bathroom, I sit down and nothing happens.
"I guess you were right; I don't need to go."
"*sigh*"
But the bed I was on was SO warm and the bathroom was cold and felt so good that I kind of just sat there for a few minutes enjoying not being under a million blankets. It was delightful.
When I got back to my little recovery area, I sat on the recliner instead of getting back on the bed. Rested for about ten more minutes and then proceeded to get dressed. I was then put in a wheelchair and wheeled out to the waiting suburban. It was about 7:30, I think. We were there for 10 hours.
My poor mother. She had to stay in the hospital the whole time we were there in case something happened. She gave up her day for me and I love her very much for being willing to do that for me.
We got home and I walked from the car through the garage into the house and promptly threw up all the liquid I had consumed. I was okay with it though cause it just tasted like watered down sprite. No nasty stomach acid taste, for which I was grateful.
A couple of friends came over that night and were just as delighted as I was with the results. And just as grossed out at the drains the surgeon had put in. The incisions were under my arms on both sides; a tube came out of them and was connected to little clear, plastic containers the size of hand grenades and collected the blood and other bodily fluids that drained from the surgery site. Better out than in, even though it was super gross.
POST-OP
The surgery went great. There weren't really any complications. As it turned out, 1339 grams were removed from the right side and 1427 grams from the left. A grand total of 5.5 lbs. Imagine having that weighing down on your front for so many years. Needless to say, the relief was instant. My back, shoulders and neck don't hurt anymore.
Everyone has been impressed with the results. My friends have a hard time not staring. I don't mind; ha once I jokingly told a friend "my eyes are up here". Her response? "Whatever" as she continued to stare. It was great.
Nobody has been as happy with the results as I am. I was off my percocet, and all pain medication for that matter, after one week and back to work after two.
Everything is healing beautifully, nothing is dead or falling off and I am ecstatic with the results.
I still have no idea what size I am though. I'll let you know when I figure that out.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
I really do just love my job
I stabbed myself in the thumb with a screwdriver at work today. It bled profusely.
Then my mailman, Chad, (who is my very favorite since the hot ups man left and the new one doesn't smell good anymore) called me a knucklehead.
But he didn't sneak up behind me and startle me into a blood curdling scream, so we're making progress.
Then my mailman, Chad, (who is my very favorite since the hot ups man left and the new one doesn't smell good anymore) called me a knucklehead.
But he didn't sneak up behind me and startle me into a blood curdling scream, so we're making progress.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
A quick little ditty and an apology
So. I was kind of bored for a minute and decided to look back through old posts, (because it's been so long since I've said anything on here that I don't even remember what I have said. pathetic.) and I came across a few promises I had made and haven't kept yet. I am quite sorry about this.
Although now that I've said I came across a few, I can only remember one... I guess that's ok.
I promised to tell the story of my life and my recent surgery whilst I was recovering from said surgery. Well, to make a long story short, I was in far too much pain. Mostly I just slept. I cleaned my room from top to bottom in preparation for the time I would be spending in it, and as it turns out, I stayed on the couch in the family room instead. Go figure.
I don't have time to write the whole story down right now, so it will be along shortly. Plus the title of this post is 'a quick little ditty...' and this story is not quick. Especially since I will be sharing the complete unabridged and unedited edition.
Stay tuned, it's gonna be good.
Although now that I've said I came across a few, I can only remember one... I guess that's ok.
I promised to tell the story of my life and my recent surgery whilst I was recovering from said surgery. Well, to make a long story short, I was in far too much pain. Mostly I just slept. I cleaned my room from top to bottom in preparation for the time I would be spending in it, and as it turns out, I stayed on the couch in the family room instead. Go figure.
I don't have time to write the whole story down right now, so it will be along shortly. Plus the title of this post is 'a quick little ditty...' and this story is not quick. Especially since I will be sharing the complete unabridged and unedited edition.
Stay tuned, it's gonna be good.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Well this was unexpected
With this surgery I was hoping to maybe go back to work after a week.
About that..
So. Much. Pain.
About that..
So. Much. Pain.
Friday, January 14, 2011
An epiphany
I came to a realization today. Would you like to know what it was? I shall tell you.
I am going to be poor forever. What a depressing thought.
Unless, of course, I'm able to marry a fabulously wealthy man. Ha. I once had a patient at work tell me that's the fastest money you'll ever make. The money you marry into. Great conversation and he had a point; that whole what's yours is mine thing is a fantastic concept.
I just have really expensive taste. I can't help it. It's a gift and a curse. On one hand, when I'm picking out something for another person for their birthday or Christmas or even for just because I know they'll like it. This is the gift part. Actually, I take that back. It's a curse as well; I have far less of a problem with spending my money on other people than on myself.
Someone please explain this to me.
To date, my most expensive habit is MAC make-up. The stuff really is fantastic. And I didn't even know it existed until April 2010. Thank you, Annie for introducing us. The greatest love affair of this century. I'm not going to admit how much I've spent there since April, but it's a lot. A lot.
Thank you to brother and sister-in-law (mostly sister-in-law) who decided to challenge me to stay away from MAC for 3 months starting January 1. I can totally do this, but it is OH SO painful. Especially with the line they launched on the 6th. They took all the colors in a peacock feather and turned it into make-up. You would die if you saw it. So gorgeous.
Shoes would be next on the list of things I spend too much money on. Followed closely by glasses. My 11 pairs of glasses. Uh huh. This is a problem.
Good thing that's the first step...
I need to find some other ways to relieve stress, cause this is just too pricey. My poor wallet needs a break and I have a surgery to save for.
I also want to be able to move out at some point in the not too distant future...
I am going to be poor forever. What a depressing thought.
Unless, of course, I'm able to marry a fabulously wealthy man. Ha. I once had a patient at work tell me that's the fastest money you'll ever make. The money you marry into. Great conversation and he had a point; that whole what's yours is mine thing is a fantastic concept.
I just have really expensive taste. I can't help it. It's a gift and a curse. On one hand, when I'm picking out something for another person for their birthday or Christmas or even for just because I know they'll like it. This is the gift part. Actually, I take that back. It's a curse as well; I have far less of a problem with spending my money on other people than on myself.
Someone please explain this to me.
To date, my most expensive habit is MAC make-up. The stuff really is fantastic. And I didn't even know it existed until April 2010. Thank you, Annie for introducing us. The greatest love affair of this century. I'm not going to admit how much I've spent there since April, but it's a lot. A lot.
Thank you to brother and sister-in-law (mostly sister-in-law) who decided to challenge me to stay away from MAC for 3 months starting January 1. I can totally do this, but it is OH SO painful. Especially with the line they launched on the 6th. They took all the colors in a peacock feather and turned it into make-up. You would die if you saw it. So gorgeous.
Shoes would be next on the list of things I spend too much money on. Followed closely by glasses. My 11 pairs of glasses. Uh huh. This is a problem.
Good thing that's the first step...
I need to find some other ways to relieve stress, cause this is just too pricey. My poor wallet needs a break and I have a surgery to save for.
I also want to be able to move out at some point in the not too distant future...
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wahoo!
What a wonderful, wonderful day today has been. I got amazing news that will forever change my life. Everything is falling into place and I feel very blessed.
Today, my insurance approved the surgery I have wanted to have done for a long time. They approved it in a way that opens up many more windows than originally expected. And it only took 2 days! I had the consultation with the surgeon Thursday of last week, and the call came in that it was authorized this morning. So amazing.
I cannot wait for February 2nd! That's the big day.
And while I am in bed recovering for two weeks afterwards, I shall share the story of how this all came to be.
Basically, the story of my life.
Today, my insurance approved the surgery I have wanted to have done for a long time. They approved it in a way that opens up many more windows than originally expected. And it only took 2 days! I had the consultation with the surgeon Thursday of last week, and the call came in that it was authorized this morning. So amazing.
I cannot wait for February 2nd! That's the big day.
And while I am in bed recovering for two weeks afterwards, I shall share the story of how this all came to be.
Basically, the story of my life.
Friday, January 7, 2011
If music be the food of love, play on
I tire of feeling tears on my cheeks. I wish I was one of those people with the amazing ability to just disconnect and not care about other people.
To care is only human, I suppose.
I don't like it.
This past week, I've been reminded of this. At first by someone else, then again and again by myself. In my despair, I cursed something most precious. Love.
Then I felt guilty. I don't enjoy feeling bitter. Holding grudges is like pouring lemon juice into a fresh paper cut. Idiotic and painful.
So to make myself feel better, I turned to a favorite author of mine. Nothing cures the soul so well as the words of Victor Hugo. I didn't feel quite so bad about myself after reading this passage: "How sad is the soul, when it is sad through love!"
Oh boy, is he right. I don't think there is any ache or pain quite like that caused by love. It cuts right down to your soul and envelops your mind. Well, at least that's what it does to me.
As I kept reading, I came across yet another passage. "I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, and the stars through his soul."
I decided this is what I wanted to emulate. I don't want to drown in my pain, I want to love others so much that the stars shine through my soul, and if this just means I will be subjected to more pain in the future, so be it.
In the words of yet another hero of mine, "A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave."
Thank you Gandhi. I couldn't have said it better myself.
I am determined to be brave.
To care is only human, I suppose.
I don't like it.
This past week, I've been reminded of this. At first by someone else, then again and again by myself. In my despair, I cursed something most precious. Love.
Then I felt guilty. I don't enjoy feeling bitter. Holding grudges is like pouring lemon juice into a fresh paper cut. Idiotic and painful.
So to make myself feel better, I turned to a favorite author of mine. Nothing cures the soul so well as the words of Victor Hugo. I didn't feel quite so bad about myself after reading this passage: "How sad is the soul, when it is sad through love!"
Oh boy, is he right. I don't think there is any ache or pain quite like that caused by love. It cuts right down to your soul and envelops your mind. Well, at least that's what it does to me.
As I kept reading, I came across yet another passage. "I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, and the stars through his soul."
I decided this is what I wanted to emulate. I don't want to drown in my pain, I want to love others so much that the stars shine through my soul, and if this just means I will be subjected to more pain in the future, so be it.
In the words of yet another hero of mine, "A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave."
Thank you Gandhi. I couldn't have said it better myself.
I am determined to be brave.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Allow me a soapbox for a small moment
I hate unpleasant surprises. They're unsettling and put me on edge.
They give me knots in my stomach and make me nauseous.
They make it hard for me to focus on anything and I become most unproductive.
Most of all, I hate that the people who provide these unpleasant surprises typically know exactly what they're doing to me.
Jerks.
On the other hand, I love a good book.
A book that makes you want to promptly forget it once you're finished, just so you can read it all over again and each page is yet another surprise.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.
I highly recommend it.
See? I said it would be small.
They give me knots in my stomach and make me nauseous.
They make it hard for me to focus on anything and I become most unproductive.
Most of all, I hate that the people who provide these unpleasant surprises typically know exactly what they're doing to me.
Jerks.
On the other hand, I love a good book.
A book that makes you want to promptly forget it once you're finished, just so you can read it all over again and each page is yet another surprise.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.
I highly recommend it.
See? I said it would be small.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
This year shall be different. Better.
I have decided to make no 'New Year Resolutions' at this start of a new year. I have very few reasons for this, but I feel they are significant enough to heed.
First of all, I never write them on my mirror where I can see them everyday as you're supposed to. In past years I have typically begun the new year with a journal entry containing my resolutions (one of which is always the journal thing, ironically enough). As you can imagine, this is monumentally successful. Using the information you have gleaned from my previous post, I'm sure you can imagine why. For those of you who need me to give you the answer, it is as follows. Because I'm in my journal so very, very often, you see.
My second reason for not challenging myself with resolutions is this: I really don't feel as though resolutions are challenging enough. They don't make the difference I need them to. Now, I understand it could be said that this is my own dang fault. Yes, that is true; however, allow me to explain myself a wee bit further. But first, understand that this is very specific to myself.
I need something more encompassing than just a few resolutions to make me a better person. This is ultimately the goal of these resolutions, is it not? To make yourself better. Looking back at previous attempts at resolutions I have made for myself, there are always the pretty generic entries. The resolutions that everybody and their dog make. Resolutions about school and education, fitness, social lives, balancing responsibility, family and friends, etc...
I feel like to really become a better person, to cover all my bases, my list of resolutions would be quite long and I'm sure I would forget about the really important stuff. I don't know about you, but a list with a million things I need to work on to be better would be quite depressing.
Instead, this year I have chosen a theme. Or motto. I don't really know what to call it right now. My mind went blank... Anyhoo, this way, there is one thing on my list and I can apply it to everything I do. I feel good about this.
My theme this new year is based on a BYU Devotional given by Elder Holland in January 2009. I have heard it referenced in many situations pertinent to myself within the last few months. I don't feel that this is a coincidence. The talk is entitled Remember Lot's Wife. It is all about not looking back. Moving forward with confidence. For those of you interested, here's a link:
The talk
I need to do this. To not let my past define who I am, but to learn from mistakes I have made and become the best person I can be.
Needless to say, I am excited for this new year. To see where life takes me.
I do love a good adventure and I am determined to make this year one of epic proportions.
First of all, I never write them on my mirror where I can see them everyday as you're supposed to. In past years I have typically begun the new year with a journal entry containing my resolutions (one of which is always the journal thing, ironically enough). As you can imagine, this is monumentally successful. Using the information you have gleaned from my previous post, I'm sure you can imagine why. For those of you who need me to give you the answer, it is as follows. Because I'm in my journal so very, very often, you see.
My second reason for not challenging myself with resolutions is this: I really don't feel as though resolutions are challenging enough. They don't make the difference I need them to. Now, I understand it could be said that this is my own dang fault. Yes, that is true; however, allow me to explain myself a wee bit further. But first, understand that this is very specific to myself.
I need something more encompassing than just a few resolutions to make me a better person. This is ultimately the goal of these resolutions, is it not? To make yourself better. Looking back at previous attempts at resolutions I have made for myself, there are always the pretty generic entries. The resolutions that everybody and their dog make. Resolutions about school and education, fitness, social lives, balancing responsibility, family and friends, etc...
I feel like to really become a better person, to cover all my bases, my list of resolutions would be quite long and I'm sure I would forget about the really important stuff. I don't know about you, but a list with a million things I need to work on to be better would be quite depressing.
Instead, this year I have chosen a theme. Or motto. I don't really know what to call it right now. My mind went blank... Anyhoo, this way, there is one thing on my list and I can apply it to everything I do. I feel good about this.
My theme this new year is based on a BYU Devotional given by Elder Holland in January 2009. I have heard it referenced in many situations pertinent to myself within the last few months. I don't feel that this is a coincidence. The talk is entitled Remember Lot's Wife. It is all about not looking back. Moving forward with confidence. For those of you interested, here's a link:
The talk
I need to do this. To not let my past define who I am, but to learn from mistakes I have made and become the best person I can be.
Needless to say, I am excited for this new year. To see where life takes me.
I do love a good adventure and I am determined to make this year one of epic proportions.
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