everyday boredom

You are sitting in class after having already sat through two long classes today.

You check the time on your cell phone. 12:17.

Vaguely you hear the teacher's voice as you stare out the second story windows at the students walking by.

Man they look happy, you think to yourself. And the weather looks beautiful! I've never seen the sky so blue. I wish I could be out there. Hmm I wonder what homework I have tonight...

This snaps you back into reality, and you become aware that the teacher is still talking. Not really knowing what the teacher is talking about anymore, you write down a few phrases, hoping that it will mean something to you when you read it tonight.

You check your watch again. Still 12:17! What the... Oh good, it changed to 12:18. Only 12 more minutes. I can do this.

Finally, the class lets out, and you stuff your notebook in your backpack, throw on your jacket, and speed-walk out the door, down the hall, and out into the fresh air. You're free!

It's then that you realize...you don't have to be anywhere for another three hours. Why were you in such a hurry anyway?

Story of my life.

And you know exactly what I'm talking about.

grace

I went to my new ward on Sunday, and I was pretty excited about it.

As they were passing the water for the sacrament, I tried to grab the tray while simultaneously taking a drink of water.

What actually happened, however, is that while I was grabbing the tray, only two or so drops of water from the cup fell in my mouth while the rest dribbled down my chin and onto my shirt. Now if you'll remember, those water cups are pretty tiny and shouldn't be able to drop much water, right?

Wrong.

At least it looked like a lot of water on my shirt.

Awesome. Good first impression on my new ward.

I guess there's a reason my mother didn't name me Grace.

death mountain

After much introspection and thought during the last several days, it has become apparent to my accelerated intellect that my legs hurt...really bad.

Now okay, I thought I was in relatively good shape. Not great, not fantastic...but good.

I was wrong.

Relatively can mean a lot of different things. Relative to who? To someone who runs a 5K? To someone who eats potato chips all day and never gets off the couch? Yeah, I'm in pretty good shape. How about compared to a marathon runner? A half-marathoner? A 10 kilometer-er? Yeah, I don't stand a chance.

What brought on all this insightful introspection, you may ask?

Well on Monday, a few friends and I hiked Camelback Mountain. For those of you who have never hiked it, I now fondly refer to it as Death Mountain. Um, hello! It's called switchbacks, people. Apparently the makers of this trail had never heard of them. Instead, they put up metal railings so you could pull yourself up the mountain.

Okay, okay...so it wasn't as bad as I'm making it sound (though all the things I've said are true...ahem). I actually got up and down just fine with only a couple of short stops along the way to catch my breath. I'm sure that if I hiked this trail every day, I would be in marvelous shape and never complain again. (Okay fine...probably not possible.)

So why am I complaining so much? Because my legs are complaining. Loudly. They're really rude. Especially my shins and my ankle that I mildly twisted on the way down.

Moral of the Story:

Yeah, you're right. There's really no moral to this story. I'm just complaining.

Other Moral of the Story:

If your legs speak to you, that's probably not a good thing.

Final Moral of the Story:

Get out there and exercise!

Nothing like a good motivational pep-blog to get you pumped.

the imagination that died

I want to write a book. Like, really bad.

I just have one problem. And the only problem with my problem is that it's kind of a big one.

What would I write a book about?

It turns out (after years of attempting to plan this book) that I can only think to write about experiences that I have already had or about ones that I hope to someday have. So much for imagination. Boring. And you thought this blog was boring. Just imagine a whole book of it.

I have started writing several novels...with started being the key word in that sentence. Somehow I just always lose inspiration after the first 10 pages or so.

But, my statement still stands: I want to write a book. Pretty badly. So somehow, someday...I am going to make it happen.

However, please, please, I beg of you...don't hold your breath waiting for this book to be published. You'd probably just faint after the first minute and a half anyway. And I just don't see how that would help at all.

I want to write a song. Like, really bad.

I just have one problem...

My imagination died.

You may find me in Never Never Land for the next week or so. I need to see a certain Peter Pan about a lost inner child that used to have an imagination.

Depending on how things go, I may never come back...

my big brother

Once again, I think I know what you're thinking. You may find that hard to believe, but it's true. Believe me. My major is psychology after all, which everybody knows is the art of mind-reading.

Okay, are you ready for it? I am about to read your mind again, just to be sure. You won't feel a thing. All right...just relax. And...I've got it. You are thinking: Doesn't she have another brother? Doesn't she like him as much as her younger brother? Why doesn't she write about him?

Well, you are in luck. The questions lurking in the deepest recesses of your brain are about to be answered.

As a matter of fact, I do have another brother, and I do love him as much as my younger brother. Feel better, Nosy? The reason I haven't written about Jeff yet (yes that is his name, thanks for asking) is because I haven't had the time or the resources (camping may have been involved).

This:

is my brother Jeff, also commonly known as Studmuffin. If you meet him, feel free to call him that. I do.

Here are just a few of the reasons why I love Jeff:

- Jeff is possibly one of the most brilliant people I have ever met. Like, I'm not kidding. Genius smart. How did he get me as a sister, you wonder? I'm not sure, but I sure feel bad for the kid.

- Not only is Jeff smart, but he's really humble about it, too. You know those people who feel the need to show off their intelligence to anybody and everybody in the room? Well, Jeff is definitely not one of those people.

- Jeff is a really patient teacher. He'd have to be to have me as a sister. Let's just say Jeff might have gotten me through math and chemistry in high school. Okay, fine. My college math class, too. If someone doesn't understand something, Jeff will patiently explain the concept until it makes sense. But he does it in a very kind, non-condescending way.

- Despite all his protests, Jeff is very perceptive when it comes to reading people. He understands a lot about human nature in general.

- Jeff picks the things that are most important to him and stands firmly by them. His faith, family, and politics come immediately to mind.

-Jeff and I have the best inside jokes. Some of them even date back to our elementary school days. ("On and on, and take a step!" or "Ten points for you!")

- He is a very willing helper. If you need help with anything, Jeff will be there, whether he knows how to help you or not. But he usually does. Let's be honest.

- Jeff loves history. Especially anything related to the Civil War or World War II or anything of that sort. He knows just about everything there is to know about the subjects he is interested in. And often even those subjects about which he has no interest.

- Okay, for this one, I need you to play in your mind the most beautiful piano piece you have ever heard. All right, now magnify it by 10. And again by 1,000. That is Jeff playing the piano. No, I am not exaggerating. Jeff can hear anything by ear and with very little practice, play it marvelously on the piano.

- Although singing in public is not really Jeff's thing, Jeff can sing. He has an awesome voice and makes up parts for songs as he goes along. Pretty cool, eh?

- Jeff loves jazz music. I like jazz music. Jeff loves jazz music. Like. Love. See the difference? Jeff spends hours on end listening to cool chords and rhythms from jazz musicians long, long ago.

- Jeff has a passion for learning which I can only hope to emulate in some small way. This zest for knowledge is going to take him a long way in life.

Yep, I know. Somehow I got the short end of the gene-pool stick. But far from being bitter, I am so proud of my big brother, Jeff. I think it's pretty obvious why, don't you?

Love ya, Jeff.