The Lists that Govern my Life

I've recently made a big decision in my life. One that defines me. One that empowers me. One that will finally give me confidence when people are trying to get to know me. I have decided on my favorite movie. Well, three movies to be exact. But I am ready to spout off all three at the moment of testing, no longer needing to search the caverns of my brain to try to remember the last movie I watched or actually any movie I've ever seen or even what the heck a movie is . Because the pressure of such a small talk question like "What is your favorite movie?" can cause film amnesia to even the strongest of souls. No more.  You might recall that I made this pie chart  earlier this year to answer the question, "What have you been up to?". This time I just made a handy-dandy list to whip out. So what are these movies then? Well dear reader, I shall tell you. Mona Lisa Smile (2003) Metropolis (1927) Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009) And n

I felt a lot of feelings this week, as is common for human beings. But this week, I really felt them. Hard, uncomfortable feelings that went beyond the normal what-the-heck-am-I-doing feelings. I know everyone has read and written and yelled more than they want to know about the LDS Church's new announcement regarding the exclusion of same-sex couple's children from baptism until adulthood and baby blessings. So even though my words are just more in the sea of controversy, I wanted to express them. Maybe for my sake, maybe for yours. I got home from serving a mission for my church 16 months ago. So basically a year and a half ago. And it's been a heck of a year switching from the absolutism that governs missionary life to the myriad of questions and life circumstances that don't seem quite as easy as laid out in Preach my Gospel. I've struggled to figure out what I believe as an individual , apart from institution and apart from family and apart from role mod

Like many other religious groups and people, Mormons tend to pray a lot. And sometimes our language becomes really routine because we were taught a pattern when we were young that we were supposed to thank God for all our blessings first and then ask ask him for help with what we need. While I don't think this is a bad guide, sometimes it can make conversations with God a little stiff. Anyways, that was background information. Because this week I was falling into that pattern so towards the ending of my prayer, when I'm supposed to be asking for blessings and assistance, I found myself often saying, "...and help me not to fall into the abyss." Pause for quick definition time. Abyss: (n)  a deep , immeasurable space , gulf, or cavity; vatchasm anything profound, unfathomable , or infinite a. the primal chaos before Creation b. the infernal regions; hell, c. a subterranean ocean Okay, now that we're all the same page we can talk about how much I t

Carpe Diem. YOLO. Seize the day. Whatever you want to call it, it involves enjoying the moment. Which can sometimes be difficult. Especially when maybe you are always thinking about all the things to do tomorrow and so you plan today around tomorrow. Or it's even worse and you plan today and around tomorrow's tomorrow and then all the sudden you think, shoooot. what the freak am I doing.  Because tomorrow's potential can sometimes rob you of today's joy.  My little brother is a great example of recognizing each day's gifts. He knows that you only live once. And that little things like caterpillars and snails and sunsets and peaceful nights and Chipotle at any hour should be appreciated and cherished. And while I know that planning and looking to the future is a good life skill, I know it's not the most important thing. I know today should be seized. Not only for homework or work or getting other random things done. But for j umping in s

Inspired by a wise German professor, this week's blog starts with something deeply profound. "The reality is that everyone's life is a mess." Said by aforementioned wise German professor. Potentially first coined by Winston Churchill. In other words, it's all just a hot mess. All of it. So why even bother to try to clean things up. Why pretend it's not a mess when it definitely is. Here a couple of examples of the definition of "hot mess" in case you think your life is never a hot mess. When one's thoughts or appearance are in a state of disarray but they maintain an undeniable attractiveness or beauty. (Urban Dictionary) a   person   or   thing   that   is   a   mess,   as   in   being   disorganized,   confused, or   untidy,   yet   remains   attractive   or   appealing: (Dictionary.com) a person or thing that is spectacularly unsuccessful or disordered. (Google) I don't know if those definitions make you feel bette

I'm afraid of a lot of things. Like spiders. Moldy food.  Not drinking enough water. Small talk.  Dirty kitchens. You know, normal fears. But there is one thing that scares me more than all these things combined: being stuck in a box. Not a literal box (though that sounds a little freaky too), but a figurative one--one that the world makes for me and I (accidentally) submissively enter. forever.  Boxes. Cookie cutters. Means of conforming.  Sameness. Those are other normal fears, right? Because I think we all want to be different in some way--I mean, come on. If trillions of individual snowflakes are all different, there has to be something unique about each of us. Something preciously distinct. I'm guessing people don't want to get lost in the crowd, and I am especially terrified of losing myself and whatever potentially makes me... offbeat if I get pushed into a box that looks just like everyone else's box. PAUSE ALL THE THINGS RIGHT NOW

I took a long summer break from blogging. From this blog that is. Because I actually did write about the exciting things that happened during my suitcase days all over Europe. But not here. Rather here.  And then I decided life wasn't getting anymore exciting so I should probably stop blogging. Yet here we are. Well, I'm here. And you're there if you're reading this. I'm back in Provo. Trying to introduce myself in unique ways because meeting people can be tiresome. Which may or may not include the following: I live in a really cute apartment. With an ideal window for watching people as they walk down the street. (So yes, basically I'm a stalker) I pretend to be various inanimate objects when I don't know what to say to people. Except that usually backfires because as it turns out, I still look like a human no matter how I bend myself. (So yes, I can be incredibly socially awkward) I hate on America sometimes. Not because I actually hate living h

I realize one of my last posts was about not being a peon , which is pretty similar to not being a peasant . But the past several weeks I’ve been thinking even more about peasanthood ( #historymajorproblems ) as I’ve reflected on what I’ve learned this semester regarding life, history, and German. So I thought I’d return to my favorite topic.   My range of emotions seems to be pretty limited compared to most people; my strongest and most common feelings are those of peasant or peon (yes, those are feelings), though I also experience fair amounts of complacent bourgeois-ness . During my time at BYU, I have had many instances of feeling like a peasant, but I have learned that I am not literally (or figuratively?) an actual peasant . I was trying to think of a good story to illustrate this principle, but I mostly just thought about the times I’ve spent lying on the ground in my room, looking up at the ceiling and trying to contemplate life . For some reason, such pondering has a

In an attempt to make small talk and catch up with people, we often say things like, “How are you doing?” and “ What have you been up to?” Which, if you are like me, may result in similar feelings of panic that come when people ask things like “ What do you want to do after you graduate?”. Because a.) I’m not sure how detailed of response people want and b.) my answers change from time to time and so I’m always reevaluating those. And at the same, my life remains pretty constant and I participate in the same activities over and over again.   And since I’m tired of feeling lame by repeating those activities to those who want to know “what I’ve been up to” (whatever that expression even means or asking for), I made a pie chart to carry around and show people what I spend my waking time doing. Yes, I do things like this. Which was partly in honor of pi day yesterday, which we celebrating by singing pi carols around our pi tree, throwing confetti at 9:26:53, eatin