It's Tuesday. I don't really like Tuesdays. Bleh. Normally. But today I am oddly in an ok mood. It's a sort of melancholy happy. I just am. I be what I be. I feel like dancing around just to be dancing, not really in celebration of life or anything, just cuz I can. It is what it is. Life is. I am. We are. Existing. That's the only way I can explain it. It's chill. Acceptance of the universe. (It must be hippie day? No. I'm not a hippie. =p)
This. Is. A. Teapot.
Last night I was not so chill. I was reading my Economist for Current Events and there was article about Japan and the death toll and the effects that the radiation could be having and the nuclear plants that were damaged and how it could damage Japan's economy. And then I was telling Eliza some of the facts that were daunting. Then Eliza got something in the mail from the Navy, "Join the Navy!" it said, "No way!" she said. "OH MY GOSH EMILIO!!!!" I said. Immediate panic. I don't have his number, all I can do is friend request him on facebook 6 months before I am supposed to and make sure he is alive. He is. He still hasn't answered me, but at least he is alive. I was freaking out. He's right on the coast too. I don't know why I didn't realize this before, but I didn't. But now I do. He seems fine, I just want to talk to him. Make sure. And such.
This. Is. A. Toilet Paper Holder.
I love this song. The song of the blog currently today at this time. It's fun. When I dance today, I will dance to this song. I danced this morning to this song. Fun stuff. Fun stuff.
To be a tad on the silly side is a great blessing. Why be so serious all time? Why worry so much? I don't know. I get out of bed and I usually think, "Dang, woke up late again." Then I look in the mirror and I think, :Dang." ('nuff said.) Then I eat some Special K and think, "Strawberriiiiiiiiiies. Happinesssssss." Then I turn on some music and turn on my curling iron and I do a jig cuz life is living and I am breathing. I dance in front of the mirror and watch my curls bounce. I love that. Bouncing curls. Yeah. Then I get dressed and put on my make-up and all the while I check the clock and I think, "Dang, I'm gonna be late." Then I grab my back-pack, turn off all the lights and shut down my laptop, and I walk out the door. I turn on my ipod and I think, "Yes. Tunage." I turn it up as loud as I can without blowing my eardrums. I walk to the light and I think, "Which way shall I walk today?" The white man will appear and I'll walk in whatever direction he appears first. I look at the sky and I look at the mountains and I think, "I wish the mountains would disappear just for a day. I miss Kansas." I keep walking. Maybe a song will come on that speaks to me and I will listen to it twice. I always get to class on time, or 3 minutes late, never more. There is no need to rush this process. Enjoy life while you have it. Look around you and pay attention because when you are old and gray and laying in your death bed you are not going to think, "Yes. I was on time my whole life. I hurried everywhere and made every deadline. I accomplished so many things in a timely manner. I love my timeliness. I can now die happily." No. If you do, you have some serious problems that should be taken care of now before you reach that point.
This. Is. A. Box.
1: Hypothetically close your eyes. Your... mind's eyes...
2: Picture yourself in a room with Jesus. You are sitting in a mansion in Heaven.
3: You are chatting and you have so many questions that you don't even know where to start.
4: He says, "This is where we will start."
5: He points to this box.
That's it. The deep story. He points to a box. But remember, this box is your life. How will you look at this box? What will be in this box? I assure you that I do not think being on time for everything is NOT important. It is very important. It shows character and commitment. But it also what you were committed to. If I open my box and it says that I was on time for work every day and I never missed a class in my life. (Which it will not say.) Then I would be happy. But if it said that, and then I was late to even one birthday party, one anniversary dinner, one school play, one sports game, then I would say I had lived a sad life indeed.If I'm going to be on time for all career related things, then I better be on time for the most important things. I will never miss a game, a birthday, a worry, a trial, for my family. I do have a career that I want to pursue but once I become a mother I will be a mother before anything else. I want my box to say that. I also want my box to say that I never gave up. Since knowing Guy, I have realized that when you close your heart off then you are hurting yourself and those who care about you. I don't think I will end up with Guy, but I have learned that the fairy tale is worth never giving up on. I will meet the right person someday and he will treat me how I should be treated and so on and so on. So if I give up on the fairy tale then really I am hurting my own future. I also want my box to say that I followed the Savior. When Christ points at my box, I don't want to be ashamed and say something like, "Lets have lunch first!" I don't want to open my box and see things I never repented of, and see people I hurt because of my carelessness. I never want that. My bishop's wife has a saying that I love sooo much. "You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be perfect at repentance." Now, this will be a lifetime of work, but I can't wait to live tomorrow and the next day and the next day and keep working on myself. I can't wait to keep getting better.
This. Is. A. Shovel.
Anywayz. That is only half of what I want my box to say. What do you want your box to say? Everyone has something. Something they strive for. Some quality that they wish they possessed. The thing is though, we can't ever give up. That is accepting defeat, that is letting Satan win, that is cowardice of the acutest kind. It's not just giving up on the fairy tale, it's giving up on life. On striving to be the person you know you can be. It comes a little at a time, and I know that I have yet to be very good at his always progressing concept, but we can't give up. I refuse to look in the mirror and say, "This is who I am. This is who I will always be. I will never progress more. And I will never be any worse. I am this person forever." I love who I am. I accept who I am, but I want to progress. I want to always move forward. I want to keep learning and trying and living my life. Maybe this is why Guy and me just will never work out. It seems like he has given up. I just can't comprehend that. I hope he will learn someday that giving up is not getting out of the way of another failure. Giving up is letting failure take over your life.
This. Is. A. Car.
I want my life to be full of, "There was this one time...." s. Plural... I want lots of experiences, lots of times to tell about when I'm old and gray. And when I'm old and gray, I want to have more times. I want to keep having times until the day I day. And when I die, I want to think, "Dang. That was certainly a time."
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