A looooong babysitting adventure.

When I say this is a long adventure, I mean these blog entries are extremely long.
The adventure has been fun!

Also, I've developed a new appreciation for moms--especially good moms (Read below on my account of Wednesday if you'd like to know why. I think that's an explanation in and of itself.). Thursday has been quite entertaining so far. It's not over yet though...

So, since I have nothing better to do with my time, and since every week is like Spring Break for me, I decided to do something good and productive with myself this week instead of taking a spring break vacation with the rest of the college students in this town. I'm babysitting from Tuesday until Friday for my Institute teacher. He and his wife are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary this week, so they decided to make a vacation out of it.

Their kids are great! The 14-year-old, Jacob, is a freshman in high school and plays soccer, so we get along well. The nine-year-old, Angelica, is in third grade, and she shies away from being the center of attention, but you get her by herself and she'll just babble on for hours. And then the three-year-old, Gabby, is a riot! She seems so mature for her age. You can carry on a full conversation with her, she knows exactly what she wants and she speaks so clearly that you can't mistake it usually. And she knows her routines (nap time, night time, bath time, dinner time...) which makes life even simpler.

Tuesday. I drove down here with Monica (my newly discovered friend from last week) since she was flying home the next day. Tracy, the mom of all these kids, had only briefly met me once. She told me over the phone that she just didn't trust any members from her ward here enough to leave with her kids for three days straight. Really, she didn't remember who I was until I arrived at her house. And yet, she trusts me indefinitely, even though she hardly knows me? That's flattering I suppose. It was a little weird for me here at first, since I didn't know these kids at all and there were two babysitters (both Monica and myself) for a night. It went well. I made ravioli for dinner, we read the scriptures and had family prayer right before bed. Then both Monica and I went to bed because we were so tired and had an early start the next morning.

Wednesday.

• 4:30am. Woke up. Monica was up showering. Since Jacob is old enough to take care of his siblings for at least a little while and he had to be up at 5:30, I left all the kids sleeping.
  
• 5:15am. Left to take Monica to the airport. I only had time to drop her and go. As I was getting back on the interstate to rush back to the house, Monica called and asked if I could turn around. She had planned on just paying a bit extra for a third suitcase, but they were going to charge her $125 for it. Ridiculous! I told her I couldn't turn back around now, but that I'd just pick it up later that morning if they'd hang on to it.
  
• 6:15am. I made it back just as Jacob was getting into his friend's car to go to seminary. I waved goodbye and went inside to escape the cold that had settled in over night.
  
• 6:30am. Gabby woke up. I got her and made her breakfast then let her watch some of her favorite TV shows (Kipper--which I'm not a fan of--and Caillou--not too bad, actually)
  
• 7:00am. Angelica got up and got breakfast. I helped her fix her hair and went over the questions that would be on her social studies test that day.
• 7:55am. Angelica's bus arrived after we waited outside in the cold for ten minutes.
• 9:30am. After getting myself changed and just pulling my hair up and out of my way, I got Gabby changed and we took off on an adventure to the airport. Tracy was letting me use her car since it already had Gabby's car seat, toys, and DVD player in it. I got Monsters Inc playing and we drove off. Then I realized the gas tank was almost on empty. It took me forever to find a gas station. Seriously! I thought gas stations were on most street corners! Wrong, not around here.
  
• 10:30am. I finally made it to the airport for the second time that day, with Gabby saying, "We're lost!" followed by, "I wanna go home!" or "I want my mommy and daddy!" every fifteen minutes of the drive there (though, she wasn't crying; she was simply stating facts). I gave up on the main level for parking and went to the upper one. I got Gabby out and carried her because not only was it cold and windy, but I didn't wanna let her out of my sight or even chance that happening. We went down an escalator (which Gabby found thrilling) just to go back up one because I didn't know where I was going. By the time we got inside, Gabby was walking and I was holding her hand. She started trying to get into everything! She saw a luggage cart that she took off toward and tried to ride on. Then she kept insisting that she needed to use the phone on one of the self-check-in computers in the line in front of the United check-in counter. Then as I began talking to one of the employees about the bag I was picking up, Gabby took off to sit on those shiny silver bench-seats that was behind us along the wall. I got Gabby and the suitcase and we headed out to the car. It was cold, so Gabby wanted me to hold her. Then when she saw the puddles left over on the parking lot on she had to jump in all of them.
• 11:30am. We got home and I gave Gabby a bath then we had lunch.
  
• 12:30pm. I attempted to get Gabby to take a nap--an hour and a half late. It didn't work so well. She just played and made a racket in her room for a while.
  
• 1:30pm. Went upstairs and told Gabby she needed to sleep. She responded by telling me she wasn't tired. I told her she at least needed to at least try and take a nap. She very obediently got in her playpen, laid down, pulled her blanket up to her chest, and closed her eyes. I was impressed, but I knew it was past time for her nap and it probably wouldn't do any good anyway. She did get quiet up there for a little while though.
• 2:00pm. I finally felt like I had some time to do something. I had intended on taking a shower, but I was too tired to expend the necessary energy to do that. Instead I wrapped up in a cozy blanket on the couch and read a book. Every time I'd close my eyes and think about taking a nap myself I'd always remember something else I needed to get done, so i didn't even get to try to catch up on any of my missed sleep.
• 4:00pm. I began making dinner. Angelica came home. She wanted me to sign school stuff and help her with homework. I got chicken baking then started making the cookies Jake needed to bring to Mutual that night.
  
• 5:15pm. Loaded everyone up in the car to pick up Jake from soccer practice.
• 5:40pm. Home in time to snatch the chicken out of the oven before it got too crispy. Steamed the broccoli, sliced up apples, the kids set the table; we had dinner.
• 6:15pm. Loaded back up in the car, dropped the two older ones off at church for Mutual and Activity Days as Gabby kept complaining about not getting one of the cookies Jake had brought for the young men. I promised her we'd make some when we got back.
  
• 7:00pm. Returned home. I kept my promise to Gabby and we baked cookies. (And I ate WAY too many of them!) She only had two and they were very small ones.
  
• 8:00pm. Thirty minutes late for Gabby's bedtime. Put her pajamas on, brushed her teeth, read her stories, tucked her into bed.
• 9:00pm. Angelica and Jacob returned home (they'd gotten a ride--thank heavens!) and finished homework and made lunches for the next day.
• 9:45pm. Read the scriptures and had family prayer. (You know, I'm really surprised by Jacob's understanding of the Book of Mormon and New Testament. It's impressive, but I suppose that's what I should expect from the son of my Institute teacher.)
• 10:30pm. Got into bed after changing, washing my face and brushing my teeth. I read my scriptures until I called Bob around 11:00 (that's my usual routine). I don't remember what time I fell asleep.

Mosiah 2:17

My mom and dad have always been so wonderful at helping others in serious times of need, even if it means giving someone part of our house to live in for some time. In Louisiana, we had this playroom off the main part of the house that connected the garage to the dining room, and it even had its own bathroom. I remember a couple of people in particular living with us for a month or more at a time when they really needed it. I learned that same kind of generosity from my parents and I hope I'll always keep it with me.

On Saturday night last weekend, I was sitting in my room creating a pattern for a sundress and I heard the phone ring downstairs. I had my mp3 player going, and I didn't really think anything of it. After a few minutes the TV muted and my dad called upstairs to me.

"Hey Janae?"
"Yeah?" I replied as I pulled one of the headphones off my ear.
"There's a less-active girl in the ward here," he told me her name then asked, "do you know her?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well, she's been living with her boyfriend, and apparently it's turned into a bad situation and she's a little scared right now--"
Before my dad could even finish what he was originally going to say I asked, "When are we picking her up?"
He paused. "About ten minutes."
"Okay, I'll be down soon."

With my dad being bishop in our ward, he's one of the first (and sometimes the only) to find out about this kind of stuff. Naturally my dad felt more comfortable with me going, because it is kind of weird to pick up a younger woman that he doesn't know, bishop or not. Plus I live for this kind of stuff! I LOVE to help and serve and give another person the shirt off my back! I was thrilled.

It was below freezing and snowing outside, so it was a long, slow drive there since it was across town. We eventually made it to a really small, pot-holed trailer park. My dad couldn't see any of the numbers on the homes, and I became a pro at finding the right places on my mission, especially when it comes to seeing little, invisible numbers on doors and corners of trailers. I guided dad to the right one, then as he went up to the door I made sure the trunk of the car was empty. Then I followed after him and climbed the slick, snow-covered stairs onto the dilapidated front porch of the run down trailer. The front door was open, and my dad was inside. He saw me and motioned me forward. We went in and I first met a friend of this girl, then her. I loved her instantly. She was a little emotional but was keeping it together quite well. We carried out her suitcases and bags, and as my dad was putting them in the trunk of the car I went back inside to see if there was anything else. She was standing there looking around the room with tears in her eyes, and that's when I noticed the pink bruise newly forming on her cheekbone below her eye. It broke my heart to know what this poor girl had gone through, both physically and emotionally.

"Last look around?" I asked with a comforting smile.
"Yeah..." she trailed off as she glanced at my eyes and then back at the room, fighting back tears.

We dropped her friend off on the way back to our house. As we neared home we talked about her interests and hobbies, and come to find out she loves art and even debated fashion design. She's seriously such a cool girl! After carrying her luggage upstairs to the guest room and showing her around the house briefly, we headed to the living room for family prayer, where we also briefly discussed church the next morning as well as a few other things. We went back upstairs and I showed her all the fabric I'd inherited from Nin's attic and the dress I was making. Then we wound up staying up for a bit in her room just talking. She knows it was the right thing to do, leaving him. She still loves the guy, but she knows she can't go back. She won't go back either. She feels surprisingly calm about the decision, and I reminded her that it's probably just the Spirit helping her to know what she's doing is right. It's just a really difficult thing to go through, especially because she loves his family now too. She's ready for a change now though, and she's pretty sure it will involve becoming more active in the church. That made me smile, and I reminisced a bit in my memories of when I made that choice too. I'm proud of her for figuring it out sooner than later.

The other day my dad made the comment to me that she reminds him a bit of me. I laughed. At first I couldn't decide if he was talking about the mistakes I made in my life before I gained my solid testimony or our personalities and interests. I laughed and gave him a curious smile, but before I could ask he answered me by saying that it was our interests he found so similar, even though I'm sure it was more than that by the grin he gave me. It's always comforting and something tugs a little at my heart when I realize again that my dad really is proud of me. I used to not really have much of a relationship at all with him, and there's just something so special about being able to talk with him, or go work outside with him, or go fishing together, or do anything as a father and daughter. I never used to have that connection with my dad. Now I wonder what all I missed out on when I was younger. But I'm happy to know him better and understand what he's been through and learn from him. Although, I'm even happier to finally realize how much he loves me, since I think I used to not believe that he really did at all. It was just a hard childhood being the only girl. I used to think it was really bad to cry, and that I should never let myself do it. For a long time I even thought it was bad to be female! Granted, I don't think anyone ever really told me those things. I just kind of assumed it all from my dad's and brothers' reactions to me when I was a kid. For a while I thought Dad didn't like me, but since I've grown up I realize now that he just didn't know what to do with a little girl. He didn't know how to handle the different level of maturity, different physical traits, different emotional strengths, not to mention the PMS. He had no idea how to raise a girl after having three rowdy boys! My guess is he just tried treating me like one of them, even though it didn't work out so well all the time.

Anyway, so life's been kind of fun for the past few days. I forgot how much fun it is to have a friend to hang out with all the time, although this way I have less of a choice of if I want to or not since she's staying here for another week. I just really enjoy helping other people out. It makes me feel like I'm actually useful and important. I know I am anyway, but I actually feel like it when I'm serving other people.

I hope I too can do this kind of thing when I have my own house one day.

Ascension II, though it was my first.

Yesterday I was minding my own business, lounging and playing a highly addictive video game, when I got a phone call. I checked my phone and had to blink twice to make sure it was who I thought it was. Jefferson Defago. You see, he'd been the one and only friend I'd had since high school. We even dated in high school, ended on good enough terms, and were friends ever since. He's hilarious and way into extreme outdoor hobbies, like I am. Then I got home from my mission, and began hanging out a lot, and shortly thereafter we had a falling-out of sorts (though truthfully, I'm still confused about that whole thing). I even cried a little because of it (although now-days, that's not hard to make me do). I made an attempt to call him a few weeks ago and try to pretend things were all behind us, but the conversation didn't go as I'd hoped, so I pansied out of trying to patch things up.

So the fact that he was calling me was quite a surprise. I debated on letting him leave a message or if I should answer. Then I scoffed at myself for the ridiculous deliberation that had just passed through my mind and answered. He asked if I was going to the climbing competition the next day. I said I wasn't really planning on it. Then he got in his sarcastic accusing voice and said, "Oh, come on!" to which I laughed and then agreed to show up, even though I'm not in the shape I'd like to be in yet.

I got there, signed up for the beginner's group, signed my life away on a waiver, got my gear on, and listened to the rules. As the competition began and I watched the first people start their ascent, a few of the people there approached me and introduced themselves. Then some others did, afterwhich I was in such a friendly mood that I did the same and met some of the participants I didn't know there. That was everyone, actually. It was great to watch other people try and some succeed and others just learn from their mistakes--myself included especially in the latter of the two. It was so frustrating to see these moves I needed to make, see how my body needed to move--even know how it would feel for my body to make those moves, and yet be completely unable to do them. I didn't even flash any of the four routes I attempted. (In other words, I never got to the top.) I realized that a year and a half ago, I would have been competing in the intermediate group and done really well there. As I am now though, I'm in the worst shape of my entire life. Even when I wasn't rock climbing regularly, I still had lots of muscle and strength from whatever other activities and hobbies I'd do (bailing hay, snowboarding, working at BYU, hiking, etc). Now I have hardly any upper body strength. I finished sixth in my group--dead last. I figured as much. I wasn't really expecting myself to perform like I would have at the peak of my climbing career, which happened to be during the summer I left to serve a mission. I have no endurance and no forearm strength, and my legs are even weak. I now wish I could go every day. The problem is it either costs too much to go indoor where I could have almost anyone who works there belay me, or the weather is so unpredictable this time of year it'd be hit-and-miss and I'd have to have someone with no schedule (like me) to come and belay for me. I guess I'll just stick to my triathlon training for now and just climb whenever I can.

I used to say it wasn't a sacrifice to go on a mission, and that it was really a blessing and a pleasure. That is true. But now I'm realizing how much of a sacrifice it actually was. I literally had to give up some of my favorite things just to go and do the Lord's work. Had I really known just how bad-off physically I'd be now, I'm not sure if it would have been such an easy choice to go serve a mission. It's hard for me to struggle so much with what I know I can do. I know, I'll get it back. That's what everyone's been saying. But it's just taking so long and it's hard not to get so upset over it. Aside from the Gospel, these things are my passion! Imagine at one time being so able, and then one day you find yourself not being able to read well, or draw well, or sew in a straight (or even semi-straight) line. That's what it's like for me. Seriously! It's so frustrating to know what I'm capable of and yet not be able to reach it.

I guess I could compare it to eternity, right? Here we are in this life, and according to what our choices are now we will either live up to or fall short of what we know we can become. I can't imagine seeing so many people going to dwell in the Celestial Kingdom with God, knowing I could have been there too, but not being able to go with them. I'm sure it'd be even more devastating than what I'm feeling now. All the more reason to work hard now, both in regaining my physic and in gaining the rest of my life, right?

triathlon, traveling, and the Trek

So on Monday I ran a mile, biked a few miles, and then swam I dunno how many laps. I did all three events! I was so proud of myself, even if it was all in very small amounts. Then I took a brief vacation/trip to Alabama and my healthy diet went out the window. I still went running while I was gone, and I went rock climbing too, but I think that good change in diet was really doing a lot for me. One step forward and two steps back. Now it's time to get back to work.

I've come to realize that I have no friends here. I'm not really sad over it; it's just a simple fact. I think it's a good thing too, since now I have nothing attaching myself to this place other than my family. I'll be able to come and visit on holidays and I won't have to worry about trying to see a bunch of other people outside of my parents and relatives. Plus it just makes me more excited to finally head back to school in August since I've got more going for me out there than I do here.

I'm really enjoying this point in my life. I'm free to do pretty much whatever I want! I have no strings attached and nothing tying me down anywhere. I've decided to take advantage of that fact. I just took a short road trip to Alabama. I'm going to San Diego in March. I'm going to Utah in April. I'm planning to go to Seattle in May. I'm going to San Antonio in June and July, and on the way there or back I might swing by Louisiana or some other places to visit some old friends. Maybe I can slip in a trip to Virginia before I make it to Provo in August. I love to travel. And it can be expensive, but then again, if you know people and have connections in the right places it's really not bad at all. Now,foreign traveling might be a different story. I'd like to do that at some point too, but it might have to wait until I'm a bit more wrinkly and grayed. Although, if I can manage to do it while I'm young, of course I'll go for it!

And last weekend we had that Trek fireside. I had listened to the Nashville Tribute albums throughout my mission, and I just never figured this out until I went and saw them perform. Tim Gates, the lead vocals for the group used to be in our ward here! I saw him and almost didn't recognize him! My mom and dad immediately went and greeted him after the performance, and I walked up and then realized who he was. I couldn't believe it! Here, for the past two years or so I'd been listening to all these songs sung by him, and I didn't even know that I knew him! Weird. It was really fun to meet the band. They seem like a bunch of really nice guys, and extremely talented too. Now I'm a fan of Due West, their country music band. Their music is reminiscent of Rascal Flatts, and therefore I love it! Plus their songs are about being faithful to their wives instead of about beer, pretty women, dogs, or trucks. I really enjoy the change and I recommend their music to anyone who likes good country music. My dad even likes them, and that's saying something for him to break away from his oldies and enjoy modern day music!

Is it really splurging if it's a really good deal?

I decided I'm tired of being out of shape and flabby. Well, I only really decided that after Ashley mentioned a triathlon she's doing in April and invited me to do it too. I've wanted to participate in one for years now. And here I am, my whole body as sore as your teeth after an orthodontist visit. And it's only been two days.

I started out yesterday kickboxing just to get some pent-up violence and irritation out of my system. There's seriously nothing better than listening to angry music and allowing my mind to scroll through various upsetting past experiences as I beat the sand out of that big canvas bag. I wonder if I look very scary when I do that or if I just look kind of silly. After a while I decided the rest of my frustration would be best spent making my heart pound more and wearing out some muscles I hadn't used in a while. So I pulled off my 12 ounce gloves, left on my hand wraps (knowing it was 33 degrees outside and I'd need something on my hands) and went running. I ran farther than I thought I would. I just kept going farther and farther, trying to judge if it was too far since I'd have to come back the way I was going. I ran to the end of the street I live on, and was really tempted to turn left at the intersection and run down more country roads. I was logical and remembered that I'd only been running once since December, and I didn't want to injure myself and have to recover before I could condition some more. Plus I'd been noticing my right hip was hurting a bit, feeling sort of strained. So instead I crossed over, right where the double yellow line ends, and started back up the hill I'd just come down.

I grabbed the newspaper and mail when I reached my driveway and brought it back in for my mom. Then I called my aunt who knows (or will find out) everything there is to know about herbs and holistic medicine and asked for some recommendations on what I can take to strengthen me in this rigorous two-month feat I'm undertaking. I'm now taking marshmallow root three times a day, eating lots of greens (like kale, spinach, asparagus, etc), and a handful of almonds every day on my bowl of cereal. She also emailed me lots of articles and other information to help me out. She's amazing!

Today I went to the gym with my mom, and she added me onto their membership. Then I changed into my bathing suit and attempted to swim again after not having done so for a few years. I took swimming lessons when I was a kid, and I remember a lot from it, but I quickly discovered that I'm severely out of practice. It's not that I'm so much out of shape, which is true enough, but my problem is that I'm really uncoordinated. I hopped in the water, and after a few seconds of adjusting and deliberation, I made my first attempt across the pool. I had thought I might just practice some different strokes to see how I was doing, but as my mind decided upon a sidestroke my arms and legs did something else, so I just went with whatever that was and did the crawl stroke. That was weird. Then I had to get the timing right so I could breathe. I thought I was doing pretty well, until I realized I couldn't ever get enough air as I lifted my right arm and mouth out of the water. How do swimmers do that? Seriously, it's not that I don't have time to breathe, the problem is that there's water everywhere and I can't get a breath without inhaling some water too from whatever splashing or movement I might be doing. I only did about four laps like that, practiced some other strokes, then lounged briefly in the hot tub and sauna.

My mom and I ended up shopping this afternoon. We weren't gonna buy anything except what I needed for my healthy diet I'm getting into. And then we got distracted at a store next to the herb and vitamin store... and then another store not too far from that one...

And as we were preparing to leave the last place, my mom said, "Can't we just take a look at the shoes before we go?"
"Why? So we can look at what we wished we had and then get depressed over the fact that we can't have it?" I responded as we made our way over to the rows of leather and heels.

My mom got lost looking at adorable heels and other snazzy stuff, and I gravitated toward the athletic shoes. I've been wondering when I could get some new running shoes, because well, I've had mine since my freshman year in high school, I think. And with this event coming up, I feel like I need something more reliable and better for my feet. I picked out some various things and tried them on for fun and put them back.

And then I spotted them. I would never have thought to wear something like them ever until now (mostly because I'd seen lots of my black friends in high school wear stuff like this, and it just seriously was never my style). But they were perfect! Small, light weight, supportive. I tried them on, immediately fell in love, and looked at the price while preparing to be devastated. I had to do a double take! The original price was $69.99. Ouch. Seventy bucks! And then I looked at the sale price: $19.99. I gasped and squealed for joy as my mom came around the corner. She made me try on a few other things, but soon saw that my mind was made up.

Here they are:

I can't wait to go running on Monday!

the painful length of these short memories

Three years and eighteen days ago I met a most interesting person. We didn't live anywhere close to each other, but we'd talk on the phone (something I abhor in any other circumstance) for hours on end almost every day, and eventually one of us would take a trip to see the other about once a month. I fell in love with him, the idea of him, the place he's from, the family he belongs to, and everything about who he is. We took a 12 hour road trip together when we first met, and then went snowboarding almost everyday for about a week. We've watched countless movies together and commented on all the insignificant details and then laughed at the most morbid of scenes. We went to a drive in movie theater. We've watched fireflies hover over the woods by my house after hiking part of the Appalachian Trail for several days. We went rock climbing, after which he bought me a climbing harness (as well as many other outdoor-lover items). He 'surprised' me on my birthday and took me to dinner at the Roof and after which we walked around the Salt Lake Temple Square. We went and did baptisms for the dead at the Provo temple the morning of my birthday. He was even willing and perhaps excited to participate in chucking bails of hay with my family during one really hot summer day. He taught me how to surf. We read the scriptures together while sitting on the San Diego temple grounds. We've gone for drives and taken long and short walks together, among myriads of other things.

Then he went on a mission finally, something I was so excited about for various reasons. I knew he'd grow so much and have unforgettable experiences. Then I went on a mission. We wrote to each other for part of the time; we sent pictures and exchanged stories and principles we were learning about as we studied and taught the Gospel. He came home two years later, I came home six months after he did, and we weren't sure where things stood between us. We decided to find out, both of us quite unsure and quite nervous. I might argue that I was the most worried about it all, but I don't know exactly what was going on in his mind as I waited for him in the airport last Tuesday afternoon.

I guess I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe I was thinking everything would be the same, or just hoping, really. I've only been home two months and I'm probably still a little socially awkward. Well, I was when he first got here. Things were weird for the first couple of days, and I wasn't sure how to act around him, even though I'd gotten so used to him two and a half years before. We finally talked about it one night. It seemed like things were going in the right direction. We were holding hands again and even cuddling during movies. Things still weren't quite like I remembered, and I think it was still a mental thing rather than anything awkward physically. My feelings were quite the same, and my worries and concerns about him had completely dissipated. I used to worry about his weaknesses and his personal problems, but for some reason those things stopped really bothering me. I trusted him and I just worked on having the faith that he'd be fine and the Lord would take care of him and me, regardless of what problems would arise and how the outcomes would end up.

Monday night seemed as if it changed everything. We went to a movie. Then we came home and my mom was still awake because she couldn't sleep. I really wanted to be able to sit and talk to him alone in the living room but my mom was in there watching TV. It would have been weird to go just about anywhere else in the house since it's all open and my mom would have been able to hear our conversation from where she was, and going in one of the bedrooms to talk seemed in my mind like it would have been kinda weird too. So we gathered a bunch of blankets together and slipped out of my bedroom window to sit on the roof and look at the stars in the 20 degree weather. When we got too cold we came back in and sat on the floor in my room still bundled and wrapped in blankets trying to warm back up. I learned a lot from our conversation, and some pieces of this puzzle came together in my head finally.

He claimed to have changed a lot during his mission. He said that his head and his heart just aren't always on the same page now. Logically he should like me and want to pursue a relationship with me, but his heart doesn't seem to have those feelings in it all the time. During one telephone conversation we'd had before his trip here, he had admitted a to having feelings for another girl. We weren't anything exclusive, but it just seemed like an unspoken rule that we sort of were, even though we could still date around for fun. I didn't think it was right to keep him bound and gagged until I came home and got back to normal life. But as I noticed the timing of this girl appearing in the scenes and various other thoughts and ideas that bounced around in my head, I felt pretty hurt. It wasn't until I'd returned home from my mission that he got so involved with her and he didn't tell me until after he was involved with her. That kind of screws things up. See, before the mission, we'd decided to try and pick up where we left off when we got home. But that couldn't really happen, not now. He never intended to hurt my feelings or break my heart (of course, that's what they always say, and I always believe it too because I'm such a sucker), but he just went about things a bit wrong or backwards. I'm not usually the jealous type, but it's hard not to be. I feel like I never even had a chance here. This other girl is from England, and who can compete with a pretty girl who has a British accent? Not me, that's for sure. I'm pretty average comparatively: no accent, I live in the middle of nowhere, I have no friends, and no job. Whoa. That actually makes me sound below average. Great. So I've been really trying to be good natured about all of this. It's just really hard, mostly because I'm tired of finally trusting some one and then getting my heart broken. It seems to be the story of my life when it comes to relationships; well, since high school anyway. Either I'm just not into the guy to begin with and I try to be anyway, or I end up really liking him and then he stops being interested in me. I guess if I'd finally found something that worked out I wouldn't be in this predicament and that's why it seems like this always happens.

So we talked and talked and came to the conclusion that we just weren't going to work out. Okay, he's the one that came to that conclusion. I kept on wanting to just punch him in the face or throw hard, blunt, painful objects at him then say some rather rude things to him. He agreed that he deserved that for treating me whatever way he did. We talked about all of this until about 7am, when we both ended up falling asleep on the floor in my room. I woke up an hour and a half later, wishing I could just go back to sleep to pass the time until I had leave to bring him to the airport, about 4:30pm.

I was expecting to sit around for a few more awkward hours trying to keep myself together until I could deal with everything how I prefer--alone. So I began writing this blog and listening to music to keep my mind occupied. I was still in my pajamas with a blanket wrapped around me, my hair still in it's slept-on pony tail and my eyes a little bloodshot. I probably looked like I'd been hit by a truck due to lack of sleep for the past week and how upset I was. He comes downstairs after he's done packing and sits down on the edge of the bed behind me and starts to say something. I quickly logged off the computer and moved to sit down next to him to try to figure out what the problem was this time. I was just so tired and so frustrated and upset that it took all of my concentration to simply sit and half-listen.

Then I saw the tears falling out of his eyes. After a moment of listening to him try to talk quietly and express some feelings I just said, "Let's go back upstairs." I suggested the idea mostly so we could hopefully get more privacy to talk and my mom wouldn't come barging in on anything quite so personal. I went up and brushed my teeth then quickly showered and dressed, after which we sat on the floor in my room once again to continue this long process that really seemed so over done that it was getting us no where.

Here's my problem: I'm a sucker for love. When I care for someone, I'm entirely forgiving if the person is sincere. I care about this guy so much that I'll always forgive him when he really apologizes. I'm also aware of the emotional struggles he deals with inside himself, and in light of that I'm even more forgiving and understanding than normal. This next conversation consisted of figuring out why things took the sudden abrupt turn they did the previous night. He was suddenly unsure of the choice he made and didn't want things to be permanently how they wound up. As soon as he said that I wanted to scream. I think there's only so much of all this one person can take. This time I pulled the Gospel into it. I got out some old letters and journal entries from before and during my mission. I had him read some of the letters he'd sent to me, proving that his feelings hadn't changed until months after his mission. I told him he couldn't serve two masters at once and after some digging, I discovered that the problem wasn't that he didn't like me anymore, but he was just battling with his own internal decisions. Metaphorically, it's like this: He's like a little kid and here he has his favorite toy, one that he loves so much and always comes back to play with it no matter what other toys he's given. One day he gets a brand new fun and shiny toy and forgets briefly about his old favorite toy that he's come to love so much. He even thinks this new thing might be better than the old one. But over time the shine in that new toy will fade and he'll end up with that favorite old toy again.

We figured out that he was really just fighting with his natural tendency to rebel against what he knows is right. To put it crudely and maybe selfishly, I've been the light of truth here and the one who's been right all along, and this other girl has been that rebel desire, more or less. That sounds awful, yes, but essentially that's what it comes down to. Here we've known each other just over for three years, and he'd known this girl for three weeks or so when he made the rash decision that maybe she was the better one instead. I even brought up that I could take this as a forewarning of one day being married and finding out my spouse likes someone else. It all starts because they let their mind wander a little and entertain some ideas. I told him he couldn't do that if he was going to be true in marriage one day. And I know we're just dating and that dating is different. But it still worries me because he's the one who broke those rules we had for ourselves.

Really, his internal struggles are much like mine in a lot of ways. He just handles them differently. I know what's right and wrong, and even though I seem to always want to do what's wrong I always end up doing what's right--what I'm supposed to do. He does too, but he just goes through more pain than I do to finally get to what's right. He even said that if he had, hypothetically, ended up married with this other girl, he feels like he'd one day he would have gone less-active in the church and just wouldn't have been as strong as he needs to be. I suppose he didn't say that it'd be the opposite effect with me but he inferred it.

I told him he didn't have to make any decisions immediately, and that I wasn't in any rush for anything. He felt otherwise. He repented sufficiently, and realized how silly he'd been to assume so much so quickly. He's decided that he wants me. After all his deliberation and fickle back-and-forth choices, he's realized that I am the one he wants to be with and it's been that way all along. He was just ignoring what he knew was right, even when the Spirit was telling him so. He cried a bit. I chastised him some more. Then I forgave him. Am I glutton for punishment or what?

As we sat there quietly talking about what just happened, I thought about not writing this blog anymore. But he told me to finish it. He said he wanted to read it. Maybe he thinks my family ought to know what all happened and what I'm getting myself into. So I'm not sure what you're thinking right now, whether I'm smart or an absolute moron, or if you've got some other words in mind. But I'm not sure that it all matters a lot to me at the moment, although I respect and trust my family's opinions. Some choices are just going to be mine.

I guess to finish, I'll have to end this accurately.

We never kissed before our missions. That was an unnecessary distraction neither of us needed three years ago. However, now we're both home, and I've waited that whole time just wishing and hoping that one day we would. Still in my room, we sat there for a moment cross-legged on the floor looking at each other, my hands in his. He pulled me in and our cheeks and noses touched for a long moment. All of a sudden I had butterflies in my stomach. Then I realized those butterflies were everywhere--in my chest, arms, and legs too. He paused, his lips less than an inch from mine, and as if the timing weren't perfect, my mom calls upstairs to me. I let out a small gasp of a laugh, then smiled patiently and responded to whatever question she was asking me. Thanks, mom. After she ended her oblivious intrusion, I carefully placed my face back where it was before the distraction, and we briefly discussed the 'rules' we previously had and decided they were out of date.

I don't know if anyone has ever experienced when something fits together perfectly, like the correct pieces of a puzzle. That's how my hands fit in his, how it feels to hug him, how I fit underneath his arm when it's around me, how my height is perfect for his chin to rest on my head when I stand close to him, how it feels every time he holds me.

The second his lips touched mine it felt like I'd waited forever for that to finally happen, and all I could think of as we kissed was the word 'eternity'. It felt right. It felt like what I imagine eternity is supposed to feel like--not necessarily that it'd be with him--just how I think it ought to feel. I couldn't help myself and smiled and blushed and started giggling. It was worth every second and hour and year that I waited, and worth all the heartache I felt over the last twenty-four hours.

Satan really works hard to destroy what's good and right and ruin the truth.

I believe that this is proof of that.

Remembering

During the day, I always think of all these great ideas of what I'm going to write about in my next blog. It's fun to think about how creatively I'll write stuff and I get all excited when I think of something clever.

And then I come to write it. And I forget what it was I was going to write about.

It's quite irritating. I think my memory loss began on my mission. I'd forget everything unless I wrote it down in my planner. You should see my mission planners--they're full of everything. And there's a bit of organization to them, but unless you're me you won't understand most of what's in them. Maybe I just need a new planner. I just can't find one that I like because I loved the missionary ones so much.

At any rate, yesterday was fun. Bob decided he wanted to come and visit me over this ridiculous holiday we're having this weekend. I've never liked Valentines Day, and perhaps he'll change my bias a little. So he flew into Nashville yesterday and I picked him up from the airport. I was nervous the entire day before and all morning, trying to do stuff to keep me busy. I drove up and got there about 30 minutes early. I sat in the car reading a book until Bob called to tell me the plane he was on touched down. My stomach did a somersault. I dashed inside just to wait for 15 more minutes. I'm not exactly sure why I was so nervous, but I think the fact that I hadn't seen him for two and a half years had something to do with it, and maybe the fact that I know we've both changed some does too. It was good to see him again. I stood there dumbly for the first few minutes as we waited to get his luggage. I wasn't sure what to say or do, and I couldn't believe he actually traveled 2000 (give or take a little) miles to see me. Then we drove back and I started feel ing a bit more normal.

And now I don't know what to do while he's here. It's kinda fun doing nothing but hanging out and talking. We'll see.

100 Things

(Thanks Lauren...)
These are pretty random. Some have stories behind them, so don't judge me.
49/100. Almost half.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Bathed in a river
7. Been to the Taj Mahal
8. Walked on a glacier in Alaska
9. Caught and held a snake
10. Spoke in front of a big crowd
11. Bungee jumped
12. Had a whirlwind love affair that broke your heart
13. Found an arrowhead or fossil
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Rescued an animal
16. Ate sweet breads, glands or tripe
17. Seen Mount Rushmore in person
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hiked to base camp on Mt. Everest
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Watched an animal being born
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Learned a foreign language
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Stayed up for more than 24 hours
31. Trained a dog to do cool tricks
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Can drive a stick shift car
37. Won over $1000 in a raffle or lottery
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
42. Been serenaded
43. Visited Africa
44. Walked on a beach by moonlight
45. Broken a bone
46. Started your own business
47. Quit a job because you were totally unhappy
48. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
49. Been to the Eiffel Tower
50. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
51. Kissed in the rain passionately
52. Played in the mud
53. Gone to a drive-in
54. Been in a movie
55. Visited the Great Wall of China
56. Joined a prayer group
57. Taken a martial arts class
58. Visited Russia
59. Served at a soup kitchen
60. Gone whale watching
61. Received flowers for no reason
62. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
63. Gone sky diving
64. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
65. Bounced a check
66. Flown in a helicopter
67. Saved a favorite childhood toy
68. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
69. Eaten caviar
70. Pieced a quilt
71. Stood in Times Square
72. Toured the Everglades
73. Been fired from a job
74. Seen the changing of the guards in London
75. Broken something extremely expensive
76. Been on a speeding motorcycle
77. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
78. Published a book
79. Visited the Vatican
80. Got a tattoo
81. Been to a coffee shop in Amsterdam
82. Seen the aurora borealis in person
83. Read the entire Bible
84. Visited the White House
85. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
86. Had chickenpox
87. Saved someone’s life
88. Sat on a jury
89. Met someone famous
90. Joined a book club
91. Lost a loved one
92. Toured the UN
93. Hiked to Machu Picchu
94. Swam in the Indian Ocean
95. Conversed with someone when neither of you spoke each others language
96. Dirty danced
97. Been stung by a bee
98. Acted in a play
99. Had more than 5 surgeries
100. Threw a surprise party for someone

First Blog.

Okay! Ashley, you can rejoice now; I'm in the blogging community finally.

Now I need to figure out what to write. A few days ago I had all these clever thoughts I wanted to blog about, but I was too chicken to face the cold temperatures in my parents' bedroom to attempt to so do. Then I got smart yesterday and found the little box heater in Dad's shop outside, brought it in, and placed it here next to me. I've been online ever since. It makes a huge difference in here. The only problem is that there's a short in the cord right by the plug, so I have to twist it to get it to work, and then the plug gets kinda hot so I have to unplug it periodically because I'm afraid I'll start a fire f I don't. Ah, the joys of living on a farm and being frugal.

Speaking of frugality, does anyone know how hard it is to live right now without a job? I can't find one, and I can't do anything because I'm so broke. I'd love to get out of the house and go buy a book, or go to Waffle House just for the hash browns sometime, or even just buy nail polish so I can paint my toenails. But I can't do anything. Plus I have no friends, so I wouldn't really go out anyway. I don't mind spending time with my parents, but I do miss being on my own. I guess I can't have everything though, and I've just gotta make the best with what I've got.

I got Dad's webcam installed and working the other day. Google Talk just doesn't have the webcam capability yet, I don't think so anyway. But it's been fun to play around with.

Okay. First blog down. The next one(s) should be more exciting, I hope anyway. Although, with no social life and no children, I'm not sure what all I can write about.
I"ll just have to get creative.
Or not write very often.