The Lists that Govern my Life

Things people never say about me: 1. Claire definitely knows her stuff when it comes to computer programming. She basically built the internet.  2. Claire is a really good dancer. She should do Zumba in front of people more often.  3. Claire is an awesome teacher for young kids--she can connect and manage little people so well. And thus we shall focus on this last point, for I've spent January through right now trying out teaching German at a K-9 charter school in the afternoons before heading off to pursue a PhD in German Studies (so I can teach at a university in the far distant future).  If we backtrack a little, we can remember that I taught German at BYU and loved it.  I am, of course,  wildly entertaining in my passion for German and relatively insightful as a teacher; generally, I seemed to convince my university students of this as well. Or perhaps they merely convinced me of this but regardless we all had fun together. And...

A few weeks ago, I was walking outside as the sun rose after a night a of rain. I love the smell and sound of rain--it's refreshing, soothing, and cathartic. Worms like rain too. Whenever it rains, they always come out on the sidewalks and party like it's 1999. Except then they are still partying with the sun comes and dries them up. Such was the case on this particular morning as I looked down at the sidewalk and saw dozens of worms endeavoring to make their way back to the safety of the grass and several that had already failed and lost their lives in the struggle. Laugh at me if you will, but I may or may not have started to tear up a bit. This reminded me of afternoon looking at worms. My brothers and I loved looking for and collecting bugs when we were little (my favorites were worms and rolly pollies, obviously). Anyways, there was this one afternoon when I was maybe 15 and my brother Logan was 13 (so we weren't that little anymore apparently) and it ha...

Two months of radio silence followed the release of the world’s Worst Christmas Movies, but it’s about time words spoke again. Let’s review where I was at that point: graduated and excited for the future. Let’s look at where I was in January: graduated and questioning my existence and purpose in life and believing I would remain a peasant forever. Let’s look at where I am in February: graduated and excited for the future. But soooooo much has changed since Christmas. I started teaching German at a charter school at the beginning of January, which was great--except the limited hours available often left me whining to my mom as I stared hopelessly at the ceiling contemplating the lack of direction my life currently had. Much like onto this video of a girl running on a treadmill. I called this month-long period part of a quarter-life crisis, which is similar to a midlife crisis but comes sooner. #luckymillenials How did I get through the plagues of an u...

You've been waiting all month for it. You've watched several yourself. And now it's here. Claire's Top Five Worst Christmas Movies. Disclaimer: I actually only watched twelve. There are probably hundreds more but I ran out of time and mental capacity. The seven that aren't ranked will get honorable mention at the bottom. 5. A Dogwalker's Christmas Tale From the opening scene, it's already impossible to take the movie seriously. The main character, what's-her-face, springs up from bed exclaiming "5 DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS!" It gets better when she meets up with her boyfriend to exchange Christmas presents, only for him to say "I didn't know we were dating." And then she gets all huffy because as it turns out, he also doesn't like Christmas. Then she goes crazy and yells something like,  "I am a flavorful, flawless peppermint milk and you're some day old coffee with a dinky packet of splenda."  Classic, right...

Yeah, that's me.  The reluctant graduate. As as much as I'd like to say that I'm so excited that I finished my undergraduate degree with a double major in History and German, I'm not too fond of endings .  Especially endings of things I love. Let's take the present example. I'm one of those people who flourished in the regular school system.  Classrooms were my favorite places. I liked group discussions. I loved lectures. I was happy writing papers. I even appreciated a good test.  My German and history classes taught me loads about broadening my perspective, thinking analytically, and finding depth and beauty i n both the past and other cultures. My undergrad was an excellent breeding ground for learning. Like when I went to Italy and learned how to hold a pigeon. But that was just a small lesson. In addition to the actual schooling, I was blessed with the best student jobs I could have asked for--ones that gave me superb mentors , price...

“I cry a lot. My emotions are very close to my surface. I don’t want to hold anything in so it festers and turns into pus—a pustule of emotion that explodes into a festering cesspool of depression.” –Nicolas Cage I wrote once that I felt like I had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. I think I’d read that somewhere else, so it’s probably plagiarism if I say that was an original tough, but I felt like it suited me. I valued intellect and ambition as a teenager and as much as I did feel emotions and try to love, I know I hardly ever let myself truly feel all the emotions my soul wanted me to experience. In the past few years, I’ve made some more conscious efforts and decisions to feel more. To feel better. (Better as an adverb.) And sometimes that sucks. Because it means I cry more. It means I feel less stable. It means I’m more at war with myself trying to figure out how I feel and how to act upon those feelings. Sometimes it’s easy to discern. Sometimes it’s not....