tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74872067553473291182024-02-02T12:26:55.111-08:00life in stereo"People walk around pushing back their debts, wearing paychecks like necklaces and bracelets,
talking ‘bout nothing, not thinking ‘bout death, every little heartbeat, every little breath."chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-40030208609847821402015-04-01T21:56:00.000-07:002015-04-01T22:04:39.960-07:00I hear the train a comin', It's rolling round the bendI loved someone, deeply. Our fatal flaws collided. I suppose fatalistic empiricism + eternal optimism never was happiness. (positivism v. social constructionism)<br />
<br />
Shoulder-shrugging acceptance never was my style. I prefer to engage in shoulder squaring..."<a href="https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/neal-a-maxwell_meekly-drenched-destiny/" target="_blank">in order that we might better bear the burdens of others.</a>" (positivism v. social constructionism) (jets v. sharks) (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yVZGGYgsvI" target="_blank">nothing is real</a>)<br />
<br />
But never mind that.<br />
<br />
Over the last few months I have been thinking. A lot. About what it is I want to do with myself professionally. And I finally have a plan. A real one! That I am beginning to execute with care.<br />
<br />
The future feels bright. And it is calling me.<br />
<br />
I will not abandon my friends at the prison; I never could. I will always start and end there. I meant what I said above, I do see eternal optimism as my most fatal of flaws. My mother calls it Pollyannaism. I call it the Atonement/the point of being alive. But it can hurt, deeply. Regardless, I will always believe that people are good. People can change. Nothing is set in stone, ever. True tragedy exists when someone sees permanence in a situation that is so very...mortal. (did I mention that <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yVZGGYgsvI" target="_blank">nothing is real</a>?) What I am trying to say is, Matthew 25:39-40 will stay with me my whole life. I will never stop that part. But I must take some time and educate (x2).<br />
<br />
So. Lessons learned of late?<br />
<br />
Not everyone can see many ways around a problem. I can.<br />
<br />
I've decided the best place to apply this ability is within the field of educational research and policy.<br />
<br />
But first, I need some experience. The plan? Educate, then research, then share. It will take years to learn, aggregate, glean and synthesize. And I may deliver little. But I feel I must try to help build fences instead of advocate for ambulance reform. Our ambulances are decrepit...not meant for the illnesses we're trying to treat in them.<br />
<br />
remember this little ditty?<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">Let us stop at its source all this mischief, ' cried he, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">'come, neighbors and friends, let us rally; </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">if the cliff we will fence, we might almost dispense</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;">with the ambulance down in the valley.'</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span>
...it's real.<br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-56652486994715420052015-01-02T06:29:00.000-08:002015-01-02T06:57:42.315-08:00Needing is one thing and getting, getting's another.Yesterday I was getting a pedicure with the women in my boyfriend's family.<br>
<br><b>[they are really cool women.]</b><br>
<br>
One of Mike's sisters asked me what I like about him and I didn't give a very good answer, which troubled me. So, last night I made the following list which, though not exhaustive (the breadth of his awesomeness could never be truly captured in such black-and-white text), itemizes the reasons I am so lucky and so supremely happy to be dating this man.<br>
<br>
Things I like about Mike:<br>
-SO funny! And he thinks I'm funny, which feeds my ego.<br>
-He's kind of formal with people he doesn't know or feels he must be formal around but when we're alone he's actually really weird and funny and random. And loud. I like that he has those two sides...then it's like I have this well-kept secret.<br>
-I like that he has a loud voice.<br>
-he's so handsome!<br>
-he is very patient with me, especially when I'm working through my feelings.<br>
-he is wicked smart<br>
-he gets me ice water<br>
-he tries really hard to make me happy (and succeeds)<br>
-he talks with me about his work<br>
-he asks me questions about my work/other life situations.<br>
-he holds my hand a lot.<br>
-he compliments me a lot and tells me I'm wonderful. And pretty.<br>
-he is fun to cook with. And do dishes with. Also, everything. He is fun to do everything with.<br>
-he values fitness and nutrition<br>
-he is flexible about what we do/where we go and pretty much always lets me choose.<br>
-he wants land one day (a few acres, just like me) and sees value in investing in real estate.<br>
-he is an excellent listener. Seriously, so good. And really good at staying focused while I talk (and I talk a LOT...and not necessarily about important things).<br>
-we are similarly-minded politically.<br>
-we like to discuss world events/ideas/public figures and look things up and learn more about them.<br>
-we have similar taste in movies/TV shows<br>
-he is really good at excel. And other statistical analysis software. (VERY sexy).<br>
-he understands inequality.<br>
-he cared enough about a concept that really matters to me (modernity) to read my favorite book about it so he could understand it.<br>
-he likes me the way I am.<br>
-from what I can ascertain, if we were to be married he'd be willing to pay for my Botox treatments (which will likely start when I turn 30) if we can afford it.<br>
-he doesn't mind when I ask mind-numbing amounts of questions when he's telling a story or explaining something to me.<br>
-he's good at agreeing to disagree.<br>
-he wears cool socks. And he can wear the h-e-double-hockey-sticks out of a suit.<br>
-he is super-strong. Like, ninja strong. <br>
-etc.<br>
-etc.<br>
-etc.<br>
<div>
<br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>(as you can see, I got what I need)</div><div>(and more)</div><div><br></div>
chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-70652230196503015622014-06-21T00:07:00.000-07:002014-06-21T04:15:35.656-07:00And we'll hate what we've lost but we'll love what we findThe words that follow began as a comment in response to<a href="http://themattwalshblog.com/2014/06/19/dear-single-men-time-man-figure/" target="_blank"> this young man's weblog post</a> and quickly turned into a soliloquy:<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[the post's purpose was to encourage single men to pursue women in a more fierce manner.]</span><br />
I suppose I'm part of the problem because I only want commitment from certain men. I am entirely too picky; arguably much pickier than many of the women in my mother's or grandmother's generations. This pickiness starts with expectations gathered mainly from romantic comedies and girlish ideals, informed by American society's recent and extreme ideological shift from a practical to a companionate marriage model. Sadly, I have allowed these expectations to tint my rose-colored glasses past pink to a murky brown. I really am trying to be less picky, but it's hard these days.<br />
<br />
The permanence of marriage has never before felt so stifling and fleeting all at once. I think we pay <a href="http://dailyinfographic.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/wedding_infographic.png" target="_blank">lots of money</a> for fancy weddings to show we take marriage seriously, but I fear this serves as more of a function to pacify a deep-seeded need to declare, through a socially constructed and pinterestedly decorated ritual, that we are loved. Marriage used to be about childbearing (you know, perpetuating the species), kin and property relations. It made economic and biologic sense to build and run a household a certain way. Now, I can use my microwave to cook some bacon while I slice my tomato that was grown in Mexico, wash my lettuce from Arizona and spread some mayo onto my bread from an Atlanta factory faster than Ma could set the 1950's dinner table. Seeing to our basic needs (Maslow's hierarchy anyone?) is no longer an issue. Now we all want love, belonging, esteem and self-actualization...and we want it big-time. We want marriages that are rooted in honesty and intimacy and egalitarian gender roles and mutually satisfying sex. The chance of all of that really working, all of those expectations being met, is infinitesimal. And that terrifies me. Actually, it paralyzes me. Which is utterly silly. And unrealistic. And unfair to every man I said "no thank you" to in my head before I ever let him speak.<br />
<br />
So why do we continue to push such a rigorous screening process? Why are there so many <a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/505a1e8d8f/deal-breaker" target="_blank">dealbreakers</a> now? Why do I think I deserve Justin Timberlake + Heath Ledger + Jack Kerouac + Jimmy Fallon? Especially because, after all, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=930E_GRYL78" target="_blank">I am only me</a>.<br />
<br />
And I think this is the answer...this is what I'm getting to.<br />
<br />
The social distance technology has created in my day-to-day interactions makes it so easy to hide my flaws that I refuse to let others have any, and that's a problem. <br />
<br />
I need to stop that.<br />
I need to knock it off.<br />
I need to get a grip.<br />
<br />
All of us do. We're growing too accustomed to the idealized versions of reality that we post and tweet and "like." When things are messy and un-ideal, which they nearly always are, we need to see it, experience it, feel it. And then love it. We need to let the messy and the un-ideal become not just a part of us, but a part of us that we cherish.<br />
<br />
I don't want to have a wedding to prove to the world, in the most ideal way, that I am loveable (there are things about me that are, in fact, quite <i>un-</i>loveable) and I don't want or need a marriage in the way that my grandmother did--innovation and technology have given me the means to provide for myself and any potential offspring with relative ease and comfort.<br />
<br />
What I <i>do </i>want is a buddy.<br />
<br />
I always did well with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXYMhClL4lU" target="_blank">the buddy system</a> growing up...I get lost in my own thoughts really easily. I need someone to keep me grounded enough, but who I can occasionally convince of the merits of a life in the clouds. I want someone to thank me for washing the sheets and then ask what I've been thinking about today. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting this, wanting a buddy, there exist many more qualified applicants than I've given any real consideration to. I want to stop that.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLeUcX7Ue5o" target="_blank">I love love. I love being in love. I don't care what it does to me.</a><br />
<br />
The love that I currently love is ideal love. I want to change that. I want to love <i>real</i> love. And then I want to <i>want</i> real love. Un-ideal and [currently] unappealing, real love is--by definition--messy.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how to change all of this, but I think admitting it is a good first step. And I think the next step is teaching myself to want <i>real </i>love because right now I don't. Right now I still want love that acts exactly how I think it should act. Right now, I want ideal love and I will never have that. It's a myth. Billions of women have learned this lesson and continued on to live important, lovely, vibrant lives. I hope so much that I can figure it out and learn to be contented with the messiness of it all.<br />
<br />
In summary, this is what I have learned whilst responding to a stranger's blog post:<br />
<br />
While ideal love remains in the clouds, real love is in the buddy system.<br />
<br />
Buddies.<br />
They are messy.<br />
They can also be<br />
unpredictable,<br />
complex,<br />
forgetful,<br />
candid,<br />
coarse,<br />
proud.<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[all of these things scare me].</span><br />
<br />
BUT. Buddies are real. and I am ready for real...or at least I'm getting there.chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-33860621636539813672014-04-13T19:57:00.004-07:002014-04-13T19:57:58.769-07:00Is this the fate that half of the world has planned for me?I sent this e-mail today:<br />
<br />
subject: please change the name of your organization<br />
<br />
I wholeheartedly object to the ordain women movement. I am a woman and I do not want to be ordained, nor do I think those seeking ordination should be granted it.<br />
<br />
If you insist on rocking the boat, please call it the "ordain <i>certain </i>women" movement, or possibly the "ordain <i>us</i>" movement. I don't like this group speaking for an entire gender -- my gender. As a full-fledged member of the biologically designated group called "women," I want nothing to do with any of it. Please do not make me an accessory to your cause.<br />
<br />
Respectfully,<br />
Chaela Mcdonaldchaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-29974628738685595152014-03-03T01:03:00.001-08:002014-03-03T01:32:09.012-08:00Fusion was the broken heart that's lonely's only thoughtThings I can't wait to learn once I'm out of <span style="color: #45818e;">*</span>college, and other thinking points:<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[a list from my iphone, dated late February]</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
1. Has modernity propelled Christianity to the point where it, at times, just perpetuates modernity? Will the adversary use this to counterfeit caring?<br />
2. Aren't pretty much all dilemmas false dilemmas?<br />
3. I create my future, but I think my catalysts might be off. How often do I cripple myself by misconstruing catalysts?<br />
4. There are very few differences between elitism and ignorance. I am nearly always guilty of both.<br />
5. Why can't I adopt agrarianism in its entirety? Why can't I adopt anything in its entirety? How much danger is there in endorsing something only partially considered? Can anything ever be truly endorsed (since things can never be fully considered)?<br />
6. I wish there was a "DISLIKE VERY MUCH" button on Pinterest<br />
7. Why do people resist reading or learning what might make them better? How are people fine with how they are when there are more books and more theories and more ideas? Will I become that way? Can I prevent it?<br />
8. Why does the empirical win (see item 2)? Especially in matters of the heart.<br />
9. What <i>isn't</i> a matter of the heart?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #45818e;">[</span><span style="color: #45818e;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvCeCVmJAUA&feature=kp" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Fusion was the broken heart</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">that's </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">lonely's only thought</span></a>]</span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></b>
<b style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></b>
<b style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></b>
<b style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></b>
<b style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #45818e; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">[ [ [ [ [ [ [ [</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">THESE DAYS</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">[ [ [ [ [ [ </b><span style="background-color: white; color: #76a5af; font-size: xx-small;">a college is a machine</span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #a2c4c9;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">[ [ [ [ </b><span style="background-color: white; font-size: xx-small;">a professor is a taskmaster</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #d0e0e3;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> [ [ [ [ [ [ </b><span style="background-color: white; font-size: xx-small;">a syllabus is a chore chart</span></span></div>
chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-55152085088327775902013-11-20T23:26:00.000-08:002013-11-20T23:26:01.156-08:00And our words would take us halfway 'round the worldThings I've decided and/or formed opinions about lately:<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">[a list I found on my phone, dated mid-September]</span><br />
<br />
1. A bed is not a necessity.<br />
2. The defrost feature on most microwaves is a little <i>too</i> interactive.<br />
3. The right medicine helps. A lot.<br />
4. It's harder to move across town than across the country.<br />
5. Parking tickets always follow you.<br />
6. Everything changes and I want to savor every moment of now. I'm sad when I'm reminded that I've forgotten.<br />
7. I'm team Peeta, all the way.<br />
8. When I grow up I need a Great Dane named Monroe.<br />
9. A relationship with someone you really care about should be simple.<br />
10. The hunt <i>is</i> the treasure.chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-63478113363022831132013-11-13T00:02:00.001-08:002013-11-13T00:02:37.708-08:00You only need the light when it's burning lowMight I just say that this brings me so much joy? Because it really, really does.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Here's to aroma-therapy and all things warm and autumnal.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
[serenity is only a candle away]</div>
chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-78402482508830944272013-11-04T22:44:00.000-08:002013-11-04T22:57:33.989-08:00Wake me up when it's all overDear BYU Professors,<br />
<br />
I have only recently begun understanding the harshest reality of attending a research-based university: you don't care about me. I mean, obviously you don't want me to get stabbed or anything, but you also see me as 150 minutes per week you don't get to spend doing your research. And, surprisingly, I'm okay with this. I don't need you to like me or care about my intellectual well-being. After all, I have a mother. And probably some future cats (I hate cats but at this point I feel it's inevitable).<br />
<br />
I figure that if you did care more about students than research you would have applied to work at BYU-Idaho. But you didn't. You are here. I am here. And neither of our interests or goals quite align, other than you need BYU's money to learn stuff and I give BYU money to give me a piece of paper that will tell people I'm smart.<br />
<br />
Now that we've gotten that out in the open, can we talk about the arbitrary hoops you place in front of me at every turn? "Mini assignments" and "quizzes" and "reading logs." Do you really care that I did it? Will proof that I read another outdated article about minority-group relations and responded with my feelings help your research get published? Because it sure isn't helping me learn anything about what I really want to know. In fact, I'd say it's impeding my actual education.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2UBO4mlmgPzeWD2-XVco_UVeJW_GMOpCfPOPwKPAP2n0xyyNqtbQxDUM1LYPNWkAzixAOHC6a0QOKh5e_uNn3yi1fH0ay5Lrs8X9chKQICMdZbkcSWlxFZo5EdlAkbQO_oI3c0mxYUw/s1600/hungryhungryhippos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2UBO4mlmgPzeWD2-XVco_UVeJW_GMOpCfPOPwKPAP2n0xyyNqtbQxDUM1LYPNWkAzixAOHC6a0QOKh5e_uNn3yi1fH0ay5Lrs8X9chKQICMdZbkcSWlxFZo5EdlAkbQO_oI3c0mxYUw/s200/hungryhungryhippos.jpg" width="200" /></a>I understand that grades are the operationalization of my intellectual development. But guess what, it's not working. Universities have turned into the world's largest game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Those little white balls I repeatedly grasp for do not satiate. I remain hungry for knowledge because you've had me chomping at facts for the last 4+ years.<br />
<br />
Why have you allowed your departments to craft precisely what I must know in order to be a "good sociologist?" Isn't sociology action oriented? Within this premise, why do my methods courses make me do research that's already been done? To prove I can master the syntax? I would only care to master the syntax if I cared about the result but you don't let me pick my own data sets. Or variables. Or breakfast (Raisin Bran if you must know). If you knew how much I don't care about 90% of what you force me to do or read you probably wouldn't feel so bad about how much you don't care about the classes you're forced to teach.<br />
<br />
Our relationship could be much more symbiotic if you'd realize that<b> drills and chores and tasks do not a scholar make. </b><br />
<br />
Thanks,<br />
Chaela Mcdonald<br />
disgruntled <i>super</i>senior<br />
<br />
<br />
PS - I understand that with Raisin Bran as my favorite cereal I am headed for cat-lady status. I'm dealing with it.<br />
<br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-31227900055463325302013-08-12T09:44:00.001-07:002013-08-12T10:06:22.709-07:00"Sister Missionaries are the Worst" (or, why you should take a breath before turning in those papers)I served a mission for the LDS church. I wore the black nametag and the frumpy clothes and knocked on doors and did all of the things. It was hard. Every day was hard.<br />
<br />
It was also the most incredible experience of my life. I treasure my mission more than I could ever express. No, actually, I treasure it more than I <i>care</i> to express. I don't need anyone else to know how much I loved my mission. And to share things so singular would only devalue the experiences in my heart.<br />
<br />
As a funny, hip, cool, pretty and intelligent young woman who loves God I now have some things to say about girls serving LDS missions.<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(If you're not Mormon, this is a warning that my intended audience is composed of those who already understand the many cultural phrases and references that come with being a member of the LDS church. Please keep reading, but do so expecting this and knowing that an LDS mission is very different from a "mission trip" planned and experienced by many other Christian denominations).</span><br />
<br />
Before, during and after my mission I've had this saying, "sister missionaries are the worst." Before my mission I would say it because the RMs I knew told lots of horror stories about sisters they'd served with, and then the few times we had sister missionaries serving in my local congregation at least one of them seemed to lack adequate social skills. During my mission I would mainly say it to make people laugh because it was ironic. Now, nearly 2 years after my mission, I still say it sometimes. I say it with more trepidation, but I still kind of mean it. I'll try to explain why, and then I have a few things to say to young women considering full-time missionary service and the young men with whom they associate.<br />
<br />
As I look back on my mission, I realize that I was depressed during much of it. It is known that missionary work is stressful but it isn't often considered that most coping strategies used by people under stress are not acceptable activities as a missionary. If you're having a hard day on the mission you can't go watch TV, call a friend or family member, take a nap, or even get some alone time. I ended up turning to food, leading to weight gain that I'm still struggling to eliminate completely. I had more than one companion being treated for mental health disorders and spent quite a bit of time in the waiting rooms of therapists and doctors.<br />
<br />
I think many women believe on a <i>subconscious </i>level that serving a mission will fix current or persistent problems in their lives. Rest assured, it will not. In fact, I believe full-time missionary service often augments personal struggles more than it helps them. We often don't delve into our <i>subconscious</i> desires or beliefs when considering serving a mission. We cannot discount the promises and stories we've heard about those whose lives and whose family's lives have been blessed by their missionary service and I think this creeps into our subconscious, making it an attractive way to eliminate problems. (Rarely, by the way, do we hear about the assuredly more common times someone's dad still wasn't a member when they got home or, in my case, someone's brother who left the church completely while they were gone).<br />
<br />
This isn't to say that missionary work doesn't bring an abundance of blessings. But so does keeping the commandments. Or being a good parent. Or magnifying your calling or temple worship or befriending a supposed outsider (to name a few).<br />
<br />
Back to the matter at hand. Unlike men, of whom full-time missionary service is obligatory, we get to choose whether or not we go. It is the noblest and worthiest of causes; a good thing. Because of this, the question posed to oneself and then to God is almost always "should I go?" instead of the more productive "what are the reasons I want to go?" I promise that a thorough and honest examination of the motives behind a desire to be a full-time proselyting missionary will, if nothing else, be an effective time for you to analyze your current life-state and apply personal revelation.<br />
<br />
Now, the things I wish I could tell every girl who tells me she wants to, or is considering being, a missionary.<br />
<br />
1. If you don't have a desire to serve a mission there is nothing wrong with you.<br />
<br />
2. Graduation, disenchantment with your current life situation, a break-up or boredom are not reasons to be a missionary. It is not a "why not?" decision. "Why not?" decisions apply to snow cone flavors, pottery classes and pretty much any Forever 21 purchase. Just because a mission is a good thing doesn't mean it's the thing for you. Can I repeat that? In bold?<b> Just because a mission is a good thing doesn't mean it's the thing for you.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
3. I know that even though everyone says there is no pressure on 18-25 year old LDS girls to be missionaries, there totally is. And while men have a different, even prophetic, pressure upon their shoulders, the pressure for girls exists. I don't know how to get rid of it, but I wish so badly that you didn't feel it. I'd like to tell you to ignore it but you likely can't.<br />
<br />
Part of this pressure is self-promoted because you don't want to feel like you're missing out on something. The RM club is pretty cool...most of them know another language, all of them quote from Preach My Gospel during Sunday School, they teach at the MTC and know the difference between a District Leader and a Zone Leader and talk about their companion's gnarly bike wreck and that crazy investigator's pet snake that didn't have a cage. Can I please remind you that these experiences aren't necessary for salvation. Or even exaltation! They're also not necessary for, nor do they guarantee, a happy life. You already knew that. But they still sound like fun, right?<br />
<br />
Think of it this way. I had a car in high school. Did you? Lots of kids had cars in high school, but lots of kids didn't. The thing is, we all went to parties and dances and eventually graduated. Some kids may have stayed at school more often during lunch hour, but <b>their experiences were different, not better. </b><br />
<br />
Do you want cool stories to tell? Make your life cool. Join a band or get into spelunking or study abroad. Don't go on a mission for the stories. And remember, for every cool mission story there's about 80 boring ones and 5 heartbreaking ones. Those just don't get told because they're not real crowd-pleasers.<br />
<br />
4. Missionary work can be done without a nametag. In fact, the current missionaries are desperate for the help. I've read TONS of emails from missionaries fresh from the MTC in their first area saying "I wish we had more people to teach." Little do those missionaries realize, their entire mission will be filled with that sentiment. You've heard in church that it's not the missionaries' job to find people to teach, it's their job to teach the people you find. How many people have you introduced the missionaries to?<br />
<br />
I wish I could tell you how many times we needed a member to come to a lesson with us and couldn't find anybody so we had to reschedule or change the format. I wish I could tell you how many times per week we needed help getting an investigator from one place to another (missionaries can't drive people around) and no one in the ward was available. If I'm going to be totally honest, the ward members love to feed you dinner but most of them just don't prioritize helping in other ways. There are a myriad of other things you can do to help the missionaries that they just can't do with a nametag on.<br />
<br />
To me, it seems almost silly to add yourself to the full-time missionary force when they're already so starved for help from our side. If there weren't people here in the factories during World War II, the men abroad would have nothing to fight with which would make them pretty ineffective, don't you think?<br />
<br />
I believe that you could do as much good (remember, <i>a different type of good</i>, but good nonetheless) as a full-time missionary if you were to dedicate 5-10 hours per week to really helping those who are already name-tagged. I also believe that doing that is harder than being a full-time missionary. Regardless, the fact remains that we need more <i>Rosie the Riveters.</i><br />
<br />
5. My mission was great but it was not necessary. If you have a boyfriend that you think you could marry, stop thinking about going on a mission. Ride the relationship out. Missions aren't necessary, families are. I know sometimes you want to have both and you see other people have both and it's great. But as the Rolling Stones have taught us, you can't always get what you want. I cherish my mission. I cherished my car in high school. Neither are necessary for a happy life and neither are necessary to get your life from point A to point B.<br />
<br />
When I hear about girls who have boyfriends or break off engagements to serve missions I am mystified. Do they understand the most fundamental gospel truths? I'm really not sure that they do.<br />
<br />
I'm sure that, just like those rare instances of couples who made promises to each other in the pre-earth life, there are those special cases of women who really "should" go on missions. I doubt most of us are one of them.<br />
<br />
Finally, to the men who associate with these girls.<br />
<br />
1. Stop saying things like "I always imagined myself marrying an RM," or "I like the idea of having that common experience to share." First, that's ridiculous. Second, these girls hear you loud and clear and if you read my #3 above, maybe you can start to see that adds pressure. You will not die if your wife wasn't a full-time missionary. In fact, I don't think much of anything will change. As a friend to many girls who are both RMs and mission-free, I can promise that spiritual maturity is not something guaranteed by missionary service and elevated spiritual understanding is not a gift bestowed only upon those girls who have a black nametag somewhere in their scripture case. I am constantly impressed by young women 3-4 years my junior who teach me things I've never considered, and I've read the entire standard works, PMG <i>and</i> the missionary library! Stop saying it. Maybe consider what you really mean or want when you say it. Then, say that instead.<br />
<br />
2. Don't enable girls to go on missions so much. If they have their calls, ask them out. If they're considering going and you really like them, work harder. Don't say you're going to support her no matter what she decides if you actually want to date her. If your girlfriend wants to go, don't tell her you'll wait for her.<br />
<br />
I know what Joseph Smith said. I know that "after all that has been said the greatest and most important duty is to preach the Gospel." I know this. I also know that a full-time mission is NOT the only way to preach the gospel. I also know that Jesus is coming back soon. If we are to take part in this great gospel work forever, let's get everyone going through the plan of salvation. Then let's be the type of member missionary we prayed for on the mission while you raise your own army of little gospel preachers with your equally important, equally spiritual and equally exalt-able wife.<br />
<br />
I truly believe that a lifetime member missionary family can do more than two RMs ever did.<br />
<br />
These are my feelings, do with them what you will.<br />
<br />
Peace and love,<br />
Chaela<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-85432065526225622362013-03-21T01:50:00.001-07:002013-03-21T02:03:47.461-07:00Chained to your history you're surely sinking fastI was going to begin this post upon my weblog with an apology for the nearly 6-month gap between entries. Then I realized, it's my weblog. And I can do whatever I want. Because I'm a grown-up.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">[sometimes I have to remind myself I'm a grown-up. If I don't I begin to act too childish. Balance. <span style="font-size: x-small;">i</span>s important.]</span></div>
<br />
If only you knew my heart, you would know the things I mean to write and say. But you don't. And that's the point---that's the problem. That's why there's divorce and war and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCegTaqq1aQ" target="_blank">hate</a>. Because we don't know each other's hearts. But I believe they are all [basically] good. (the hearts, that is).<br />
<br />
I've heard some grumbles around this [quite homogeneic*] place about the idea of <a href="http://www.catholic.org/clife/lent/" target="_blank">Lent</a>, and how Catholics only have to give one thing up for 40 days a year but Mormons give everything up for 365.<br />
<br />
Is this logic sound? Isn't the fruit of vice entrapment? And so, by releasing vices don't we actually <i>capture </i>more freedom? And shouldn't that bring joy? How sad to seek more freedom, more joy, but 40 days per year.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I, a minimalist at heart, allow myself 1 (one) non-functional </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/tchotchke" target="_blank">tchotchke</a>. It is a bright red buddha statue. He and I want </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
everyone to achieve enlightenment...self actualization </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
if you will. I guess what I'm saying is-------></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7gXb3P1i7Oy1onOndAVC7sRW1YEvSiGIBsrHG45axZ0FojgEzYe0XShXfnpCz9CsnyBNTbdFVuzEevlTvldU3M3fW-BZr-07g4SX_GWdZTIKtzlf3A5BlKNuefRZsnWiNhp42iQTPg/s1600/buddhapout.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7gXb3P1i7Oy1onOndAVC7sRW1YEvSiGIBsrHG45axZ0FojgEzYe0XShXfnpCz9CsnyBNTbdFVuzEevlTvldU3M3fW-BZr-07g4SX_GWdZTIKtzlf3A5BlKNuefRZsnWiNhp42iQTPg/s200/buddhapout.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[we're sad when people give up and give in.]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
it's time to let go of<br />
everything we used to know,<br />
ideas that strengthen<br />
who we've been.<br />
It's time to cut ties that<br />
won't ever free our minds<br />
from the chains and shackles that they're in.</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Will you join us? <a href="http://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enlightenment_%28Buddhism%29" target="_blank">Buddha</a> and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVlvtWl8mcDIIQrZ48mg3M0-nbP853LlNGTkyONu-XK-n1JDwos_xy-_BDXBJ0H77wlkKsPsdPx1cF9nuLVyPbGnYlG7sFANdTF-rsj0RwTlDnamNletYIJ1Mp7CdRYkDr4ukq6D5AyY/s1600/Picture+4.jpg" target="_blank">Abraham Maslow</a> and <a href="http://vimeo.com/2004774" target="_blank">Patrick Park</a> and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94251131@N04/8577243488/lightbox/" target="_blank">I</a>?</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Liberation through the expulsion of vice;</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
things that make me go hmm.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Love is alive,</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Chaela </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*I know that "homogeneous" is the correct adjective when describing homogeneity. Not using it was a conscious, and I think rather awesome, choice.</span></div>
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-41171483715038792492012-10-22T00:49:00.000-07:002012-10-22T00:49:14.022-07:00This is it, boys.Feelings...conviction...pathos. These things fill me.<br />
<br />
My daydreams prove unproductive, frivolous, quite girlish at times. Regardless. They fill me with hope, propelling my goals [and accordingly actions] toward growth, hopefully depth, ultimately a life beatific. Luckily there is also that whole joy in the journey thing.<br />
<br />
I joy in the journey, very much. Especially of late.<br />
<br />
This is it boys, <a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/04/willing-and-worthy-to-serve?lang=eng&query=%22war+waged+for+the+souls+of+men%22" target="_blank">this is war</a>.<br />
<br />
What are we waiting for?<br />
<br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-10262841290961266762012-09-14T23:58:00.000-07:002012-09-14T23:58:15.809-07:00Queued to be the nextSometimes I can't stop listening to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rkt4xU2wwhU" target="_blank">Alt-J</a>.<br />
<br />
Sometimes (always) I love finally having my own space. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I get lonely.<br />
<br />
Other times I get the opposite of lonely, but that one is easier to deal with.<br />
<br />
I guess what I'm trying to say here, is that I'm fallible. It's refreshing to admit that to oneself.<br />
<br />
doing well in college and generally happy,<br />
chaelachaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-19559276854551475902012-06-23T16:54:00.000-07:002012-06-23T17:12:20.166-07:00Run your own showHave you ever tried to make it to the public library before they close and then see the steam rollers in your bedroom and decide to play with your hair and then all of a sudden it's too late to go to the library so you will spend yet another day in your semi-illiterate state? Because that totally just happened to me. <br />
<br />
I love the song Somebody that I Used to Know by Gotye. I do. But every time I read the title of that song I first think of the fantastic Elliott Smith song with the same name, and hear it in my mind.<br />
<a href="http://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/_/409623/Elliott+Smith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/_/409623/Elliott+Smith.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
Music is a friend to mankind. And we know we're supposed to make new friends but keep the old, one is silver, the other gold, blah blah blah. I'm just here to remind you of the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GJxw8kZrbc" target="_blank">cherished silver</a> of our musical past. Don't forget about the people <i>or</i> music you used to know.<br />
<br />
<br />
No<span style="font-family: inherit;">w, some lists.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: right;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Attractive men:</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=4dv&sa=X&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1525&bih=666&tbm=isch&prmd=imvnso&tbnid=i_r9WJzBz3skGM:&imgrefurl=http://www.mtv.com/photos/2011-movie-awards-meet-our-host-jason-sudeikis/1664607/6162128/photo.jhtml&docid=-IYOh6jAXUICgM&imgurl=http://www.mtv.com/content/ontv/movieawards/2011/photo/flipbooks/meet-our-host-jason-sudeikis/jason-sudeikis-051011_01_173.jpg&w=450&h=575&ei=d1HmT9yUCKHm2AWVzsjaCQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=580&vpy=280&dur=41&hovh=254&hovw=199&tx=121&ty=150&sig=116398917710681336446&page=3&tbnh=145&tbnw=110&start=65&ndsp=34&ved=1t:429,r:3,s:65,i:355" target="_blank">Jason Sudeikis</a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=zgv&sa=X&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1525&bih=666&tbm=isch&prmd=imvnso&tbnid=Gn5cWjM-VtMiyM:&imgrefurl=http://hefine.tumblr.com/post/3433470656&docid=9fQfNcSZlpa5zM&imgurl=http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lgzrm66DlL1qhtui5o1_500.jpg&w=500&h=512&ei=LFLmT7KtAeHi2QXT4tTZCQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=758&vpy=154&dur=1724&hovh=227&hovw=222&tx=112&ty=137&sig=116398917710681336446&page=3&tbnh=146&tbnw=146&start=57&ndsp=28&ved=1t:429,r:17,s:57,i:323" target="_blank">Donald Glover</a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?start=355&num=10&hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1525&bih=666&addh=36&tbm=isch&tbnid=-P4g3msRPmKMUM:&imgrefurl=http://www.bbc.co.uk/mediacentre/proginfo/2012/08/number-10.html&docid=mw3ja9t1ae_L_M&imgurl=http://ichef.bbci.co.uk/corporate/images/width/live/p0/0n/vm/p00nvmmb.jpg/608&w=608&h=342&ei=NVTmT6zLJ4iI2gW-l_TaCQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=283&vpy=34&dur=377&hovh=140&hovw=177&tx=121&ty=90&sig=116398917710681336446&page=12&tbnh=140&tbnw=177&ndsp=32&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:355,i:210" target="_blank">Damian Lewis</a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?num=10&hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1525&bih=666&tbm=isch&tbnid=7mEmu3O1OvmAlM:&imgrefurl=http://www.gq.com/entertainment/celebrities/201009/ryan-reynolds-scarlett-johansson-green-lantern-buried&docid=bCJip-QoUGm7xM&imgurl=http://www.gq.com/images/style/2010/10/ryan-reynolds/ryan-reynolds_300x430.jpg&w=300&h=429&ei=jFTmT5jqD4Ow2QWoxKDaCQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=419&vpy=263&dur=925&hovh=269&hovw=188&tx=124&ty=168&sig=116398917710681336446&sqi=2&page=1&tbnh=133&tbnw=101&start=0&ndsp=29&ved=1t:429,r:12,s:0,i:179" target="_blank">Ryan Reynolds</a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?num=10&hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1525&bih=666&tbm=isch&tbnid=lZUU860xNFEZBM:&imgrefurl=http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0223527/&docid=-dIWrcOmQJ1tRM&imgurl=http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTk4MjIwMDY0N15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMDA3MDE1NQ%2540%2540._V1._SX214_CR0,0,214,314_.jpg&w=214&h=314&ei=9lTmT_iaLIXK2AWfwJiWCw&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=322&vpy=171&dur=429&hovh=224&hovw=153&tx=93&ty=125&sig=116398917710681336446&sqi=2&page=1&tbnh=147&tbnw=103&start=0&ndsp=28&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0,i:103" target="_blank">Sacha Dhawan</a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?num=10&hl=en&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1525&bih=666&tbm=isch&tbnid=w8SJhVmJJX83tM:&imgrefurl=http://www.jointhegossip.com/2011/05/man-candy-monday-timothy-olyphant.html&docid=bi_4Js3sXcgHLM&imgurl=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYlbTsjbvaTquo0BBw1TtyDFIrolkmAp1QATX6R18YETPPx4rWTTWw9jPeYJV8KCI4BgvNU50K_Sy2vT8Tal9ayoB3hOKFTmfv9dcNsHUuS7Rwlk40QXuxXvMtu3rUUz6Gq6mvITAxmEY/s400/timothy-olyphant.jpg&w=318&h=400&ei=8VXmT62JAYXm2QXo1MnaCQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=989&vpy=12&dur=86&hovh=252&hovw=200&tx=92&ty=158&sig=116398917710681336446&sqi=2&page=1&tbnh=154&tbnw=122&start=0&ndsp=26&ved=1t:429,r:6,s:0,i:91" target="_blank">Timothy Olyphant</a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My lady crushes:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Taylor Swift</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Tabatha Coffey</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>TV shows I will never get enough of:</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
The King of Queens</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Arrested Development</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Home Improvement</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Seinfeld</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Chopped </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Jeopardy </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Peppa Pig</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: right;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Things it would/will be awesome to do one day:</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
buy a house</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
live abroad</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
sleep in a hammock</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
run a 10K</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
have a garden</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
adopt older children</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
emergency foster care</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
start a business</div>
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-2542615894675494182012-06-20T16:13:00.001-07:002012-06-22T19:55:39.342-07:00Why do they congregate in groups of fourYesterday Lar and I <span style="font-size: x-small;">[Jewels is still in the East]</span> were at the Stephensons' place for a DELICIOUS dinner, consisting of Bentos from a local food truck and fresh fruit. We were lazing around in the pool after our meal and I asked the following question:<br />
<br />
"since I'm the only single one left in the family, will you guys take me on your next cruise?"<br />
<br />
Would you like to know what happened next? SILENCE. for an extended period of time. Then glances pass, then laughter. Never an actual answer.<br />
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I'm pretty sure that 's a no.</div>
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Thanks a lot guys.</div>chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-68969181156624241342012-06-17T21:01:00.000-07:002012-06-17T21:01:18.056-07:00The last 20 miles into townI got to teach with the missionaries yesterday! It was so fun. Sister missionaries aren't <i>always</i> the worst, just mostly. The ones we have here are actually pretty cool.<br />
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I don't have much else to say today. How often does that happen?<br />
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I've had a really good weekend.<br />
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Happy 60th Birthday to Bob! <br />
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<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-65104740910765902932012-06-15T22:06:00.000-07:002012-06-16T18:24:34.192-07:00Just a stranger on the busI know exactly who I am, what I want from life, and how to get there.<br />
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Those that proclaim knowledge can not be sure are naive indeed.<br />
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I know that there is a God, that He has created all things, and has used His laws to bring about this great earth and the inhabitants thereof.<br />
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I know that this knowledge is difficult for so many to grasp. And sometimes once one has grasped and then chooses to release it, their reason escapes them. They become grizzled, a shell of who they once were. It saddens me too much.<br />
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What a great Friday I had and tomorrow will be busy indeed. I get to be the M in an LTM! What could be better? <br />
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<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-56909030975531052762012-06-14T23:57:00.000-07:002012-06-15T00:05:36.900-07:00Check it and seeI Facetimed ['facetime' is clearly a verb] with my girls back in PA today. It made me nostalgic for times past and excited for future adventures. Isn't that just what family does?<br />
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I was so happy to watch a friend's daughter yesterday, we had a great time. And I was much better at babysitting than I would have been 6 months ago. I now know how to get stuff done and still care for/interact with little ones. I'm grateful for the early onset of those skills in my life.<br />
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We played Barbies, put Plant in a pretty pot, picked strawberries, painted, ran errands, ate Happy Meals and played at the park, napped, ran more errands, and painted fingernails and toenails. It was so fun!<br />
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When my friend finally had to go home I made my famous quesadillas for dinner and then Lar and I sped to the church.<br />
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Lar's calling is as the Stake Technology specialist. I've helped him a few times around the Stake Center, and it's always fun for a girl to follow her Daddy around and [pretend to] help fix things. We did a dry run for some complicated webcasting events that will be happening this weekend and I honestly had a great time. I'm excited to help out this weekend too!<br />
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Today was more relaxed. Too relaxed, really. Sometimes it just gets so hot outside that I don't want to go out, get in my really hot car, go to Home Depot and walk ALL the way to the back to get <i>one</i> thing (the only thing I need to start the next phase of my current project), get back into my really hot car, drive home, and work outside with gloves and a mask and safety goggles on. You know?<br />
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So...I didn't. I puttered around the house, exercised, and followed my mom around as she packed for her trip out east.<br />
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Eventually I ran to the supermarket to buy a few items for dinner. I could go into a large rant right now, but I won't. I need you to know, though, that every time I decide to just get one of those little baskets with the 2 handles instead of a cart, I always forget that I have to get super heavy stuff. Like milk. And melons. Why? Why do I do that? I know I look ridiculous as I basically drag my basket to the checkout line. Then I vow to never get a small basket again. Until the next time I 'just' need a 'few' items, forgetting that they are heavier than a sister missionary's luggage.<br />
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Tonight was auction night. I didn't go! There are many reasons as to why, just know that I don't plan for that to happen again.<br />
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Can I just tell you that I love competitive cooking shows?chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-10917293092837728462012-06-12T22:12:00.001-07:002012-06-12T22:15:18.696-07:00Moves like JaggerFather's day is approaching. And might I just say that I sure love my Dad? Because I really, really do.<br />
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I get to give a talk on Father's day. So many things race through my mind about the Fathers and the Father figures in my life. I am seriously so blessed.<br />
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I have found that every day (for the past few days) at approximately 4 pm I begin to FADE. I think to myself<i> keep moving, keep doing things, </i>and then I wake up about 2 hours later.<br />
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My family says I need to eat more protein throughout the day and have a snack around 4 instead of sleep. But can I help it if I don't love meat all the time? And who would rather eat some crackers than have a dream about holding hands with Adam Levine?<br />
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Today was good, I crocheted a lot and finished a mirror. Also, I napped.<br />
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Tomorrow I will be watching a friend's child during the day. It makes me excited because I sure miss living with my little ones in PA.<br />
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I got out my Barbies earlier tonight in anticipation for this cute little girl's arrival and marveled at how much I remembered each doll, each (extremely 80's) dress and outfit, and that smell Barbies have. Of plastic. And other man-made materials I'm sure.<br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-74871277355689010532012-06-12T00:20:00.002-07:002012-06-12T11:14:32.772-07:00Where the shadows sing of sunshineTragedy struck today.<br />
<br />
After having a most enjoyable lunch with Lar at our favorite local Indian restaurant, I walked into the garage to begin an afternoon of furniture demolition. Would you like to know what I saw in the garage? I'll tell you. My plant. dying.<br />
<br />
I bought a plant. something to care for, to own, to love. [also it was on clearance at Home Depot when I was there picking up some mulch and furnace filters]<br />
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After putting the furnace filters [and plant] in the garage, I promptly forgot about both. for 3 days.<br />
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Proof:<br />
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I sprang into action, running my plant (who will heretofore be known simply as 'plant') straight to the sunlight and giving him a drink for his mighty thirst. Then, we waited. <br />
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3 blessed hours later:<br />
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It was a close call, but plant seems to have recovered for the most part. Blessings. Don't worry, I will keep you updated but he seems to be out of the woods for now [and into the suburbs.]<br />
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I went to a YSA barbecue tonight. I enjoyed myself. <br />
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My errands were never run today. Such is life, am I right. [not really a question because I'm definitely right]<br />
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Have you ever felt like plant did in the garage? Have you ever thirsted mightily?<br />
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Me too. Sometimes what my thirst needs is a nap. Sometimes its prayer. Sometimes its a bigger change, a bigger movement, a bigger effort.<br />
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Isn't it lovely that the Lord gives us control? lets us put ourselves in the sun and get our own drink? Although it is hard to assess our needs and apply them as quickly as plant's, I do believe that this gift I have of agency is quite, quite lovely.<br />
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I ran into an old friend at the park tonight (doesn't every YSA barbecue have an afterparty at the park?) I wouldn't have recognized him, but he was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slacklining" target="_blank">slacklining</a>, which I find to be fascinating. He just got back from touring Europe, where he financed his travel through street performing. On a slackline. Who does cool stuff like that?! Apparently my friends do.<br />
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Tomorrow? Errands for reals! Next step in furniture demolition, which means stripping paint and sanding. I think I will also take Charlee to the park and exercise my muscles.chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-16284839438978345462012-06-10T21:57:00.001-07:002012-06-10T21:58:07.620-07:00If I was president I would see to it that just one day a week we'd have to sing a simple melodyHappy Sabbath!<br />
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I sure love Sundays.<br />
<br />
Today was so simple. Wake up, eat mini wheats, go to church, come home, fall asleep on couch. Wake up, help with dinner, have friends over to eat dinner, read a conference talk, play trivial pursuit with Jewels, and write on this my weblog.<br />
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I tried writing to missionaries, but I went to the Singles ward today and didn't get a 6th ward program, which has the missionaries' names and addresses. I looked at the online directory, I looked on LDS tools...it seems the ward bulletin is the only way to receive that privileged information.<br />
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YSA ward was...interesting. I'm not the nicest person in the world, and I think the people there found my frankness and honesty alarming. But, it's like, it's true that guys who do Summer Sales are the worst. It's true that people are being rude when they stand around the foyer and talk for 20 minutes while people are trying to start Sunday School. It's true that I don't like it when strange men I've never met try to touch me too much. I guess people just don't want to hear these truths. Especially from strangers.<br />
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Yes, my pride covers me like boils. I'm working on it.<br />
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But please, always, be frank and honest with me. Tell me what I'm doing that you don't like so I can analyze my behavior and apply changes to better myself.<br />
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Please, always.<br />
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Tomorrow I will run and errand or two, and hopefully start tearing apart/sanding a footstool I bought at the re-store. I will also attend a YSA barbecue at Bryan's house and exercise mightily.<br />
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Tomorrow I must also make the decision of what color to add to my afghan. I've already got a brownish gray and a cream. I was planning to have mustard yellow as the third color, but now I'm considering a ketchup red. Your thoughts?<br />
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Please, thank you and always. <br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-39752428231428124002012-06-09T18:17:00.001-07:002012-06-09T18:41:02.666-07:00Catches thieves just like fliesHi!<br />
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This morning I woke up early (who uses an alarm clock on a Saturday?) and made enough green smoothie for 2. I met up with my best friend from the past, Mr. Bryan Waggener. It was like old times as we drove through the beautiful mountains to the thriving Metropolis of Grants Pass, Oregon.<br />
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We arrived at the Special Olympics as volunteers but left as friends and fans, in awe of the athletes and the healthy/exemplary way they process both sides of competition.<br />
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What a great experience! My good friend <a href="http://ericscalvinandhobbes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Eric</a> competed, and although I had to leave before some of his events, he definitely impressed everyone when he won the Gold medal in the 3000 meter race!<br />
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Eric went to High School with Bryan and I. He is an incredible guy, and even served as a missionary at our local cannery. He plays the piano for the YSA ward and I don't think he's ever made a mistake. He also loves Spiderman! Eric also has Autism. He is aware that he has Autism, and explores his feelings and what it means to him often. I recommend you take the time to occasionally glance at <a href="http://ericscalvinandhobbes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Eric's blog</a> and be inspired by his introspection and dedication to what he knows to be right.<br />
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It was fun to see other people from the Singles ward there. And when I say fun I mean WEIRD. Young people are there. People I used to babysit! What the what?<br />
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...I don't mean to dread going to the YSA ward. But if I always did what I meant to do, I'd be thinner and have my college degree by now. Bottom line? I shouldn't but absolutely do dread the experience. I'm sure I will be taught many lessons because of this <a href="http://speeches.byu.edu/reader/reader.php?id=6882" target="_blank">pride which covers me like boils which will inevitably be bumped.</a><br />
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The rest of today has been slow and quiet, I've worked on a sunburst mirror, taken a nap and tried to keep writing some music which has proven too hard without the combined genius of JewelsandLar. Did I tell you Jewels whipped out another amazing song last night? She is a lovely woman.<br />
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Looking forward to a relaxing Sabbath. After church tomorrow I plan to write letters to missionaries. Also, nap.chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-37680353231139125932012-06-08T17:46:00.000-07:002012-06-08T20:06:34.999-07:00About to bid my heart goodbyeI've started to get less excited every time I see a car with Oregon license plates.<br />
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To see that is a novelty in places like Pennsylvania, or even Utah. You feel an instant brotherhood with the other driver. Sometimes it's hard when your uniqueness evaporates. It's cool though, I'm handling it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzZS_lTw5Qpj-WlDvJ_FpybUCL_w6rKGxDXcGHOJYJMGVQW38hktX-9AFQA_MOIBrjek22_qBYP8hpjpdp4NClcWkbKjslD-uawvfUD3SdXyda_CR1UNHD8lZJHoDhaiq7BTgspIBenw/s1600/IMG_1744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzZS_lTw5Qpj-WlDvJ_FpybUCL_w6rKGxDXcGHOJYJMGVQW38hktX-9AFQA_MOIBrjek22_qBYP8hpjpdp4NClcWkbKjslD-uawvfUD3SdXyda_CR1UNHD8lZJHoDhaiq7BTgspIBenw/s400/IMG_1744.JPG" width="300" /></a>We had a great time at the auction last night! I fell in love with the sofa pictured on the right, but in the end found myself outbid.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">(might I add that the lighting in this iphone photo does not do the beautiful colors of this loveseat justice?) </span><br />
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I did however leave with a nice solid wood bookshelf, which was a steal at $10! I'm not sure if I will give the bookshelf a makeover and re-sell it or if I will keep it for myself. I find its scratches and dings quite charming.<br />
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[by the way, bidding at an auction is exhilarating]<br />
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Today was full of yardwork and cleaning. I did, however, find myself at the Habitat for Humanity re-store purchasing a few items that I plan to fix up and re-sell.<br />
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I came home excited about my projects and having a place to do them! (Lar's garage is like a handygirl's dream) Now to become handy...<br />
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My first project will be a cute footstool that I plan to refinish and re-upholster. Photos are forthcoming, of course.<br />
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Now off to my favorite local pizza place with family and friends. Then hopefully some songwriting with JewelsandLar! I can't think of a more perfect Friday night. Well, maybe if there were cookies.<br />
<br />chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-54309255371227798772012-06-07T15:46:00.000-07:002012-06-07T23:57:36.076-07:00What it's like to wonderA day and a half at home. Blissful indeed.<br />
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One thing I must do is keep moving. If I want to get everything done this summer I dream to, I can't stop moving. When I am in motion I stay in motion, when I am at rest I stay at REST. (laziness)<br />
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Yesterday I unpacked my car, sanded and worked on some mid-construction sunburst mirrors, walked with Lar and Charlee, went out to dinner with JewelsandLar, spread <a href="http://rubberbark.com/recycle-rubber-mulch" target="_blank">rubber bark</a> amongst the front yard landscaping, etc.<br />
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In addition to those maybe menial (but mostly lovely) tasks I took a few moments to cut some flowers from JewelsandLar's beautiful garden and go visit the grave of a dear friend from my past. David died in a plane crash while I was a missionary, just months after marrying his lovely wife.<br />
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I never found Dave's headstone. I searched, vaguely remembering some instructions his father had given me back in September. As I studied each name and epitaph, my imagination took me away and questions sprung from my spirit.<br />
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It was a cathartic experience, if nothing else. I found myself cleaning and manicuring the uncared for tombstones, as if it was needed or appreciated.<br />
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I think <a href="http://www.amazon.com/We-Living-Ayn-Rand/dp/0451187849" target="_blank">we the living</a> need the dead more than they need us. <br />
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I put a few flowers from my poorly constructed bouquet on the headstones that looked especially lonely. I put the rest on a statue of the Savior and said a prayer for the families of the deceased, that they would find the truth, the sealing, the hope.<br />
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Tonight, dinner at the Stephensons' place and then Jewels and I are off to the Red Barn Auction. Don't you wish you could come?chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-40100591611825310082012-06-06T13:41:00.000-07:002012-06-06T13:41:30.261-07:00You can always be foundAh, home!<br />
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Soft, fluffy towels, the beautiful backyard, my sweet little dog, huge bedroom and loving parents. Joy!<br />
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Here are some things I envision myself doing this summer:<br />
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exercise<br />
write music with Jewels and Lar<br />
furniture flipping<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lathe" target="_blank">lathe</a> work<br />
crochet an afghan<br />
joy<br />
daily blog entries<br />
exhibition shooting practice<br />
lots of cooking/grilling<br />
reconnect with old friends<br />
explore the Rogue Valley<br />
move<br />
shake<br />
make money<br />
etc.<br />
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New beginnings are exciting. I hope to never run out of them.chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7487206755347329118.post-91055932043363511982012-03-07T12:59:00.001-08:002012-03-07T12:59:59.176-08:00One more chanceWhy do so many people in this world mistake revenge for justice?chaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16977970247040640198noreply@blogger.com1