Tell all my friends I'm dead

No I won't make my mind
I'm too good at wastin time
And I know that life is unpredictable
Just never know what I will find
Am I gonna stay, oh no
Am I gonna leave, I don't think so
I guess you can define me as that kind of guy
Maybe it's a big mistake
But baby that's a chance that I'll take

You say I don't know what I want
but it worked out just fine
You said it never could be done
but it worked out just fine
You can say anything you want
but it worked out just fine
If it works for me
then it works for me
It it works for me
then it works for me

I don't worry about where I'm goin
because I know just where I want to be

And if it works for me,
then it works for me.

Death by essay. Most commonly found in teenagers age 15-19. Fragile, sleep-deprived brains can explode from overthinking an essay, or frantically rushing to study for one last impossible test.

But mostly the essay one.
Essays and I aren't friends.
Why?

Given: Essays take at least three days of serious cognition.
One. My attention span is equal to the amount of time it takes to play one song on the piano. Not three days.
Two. My motivation runs out after about one hour of fruitless effort. Not three days.
Three. I treasure sleep above homework. My brain shuts off at nine thirty. Late night homework? Forget it.

So instead of using my last precious thirty minutes to continue the torture of my abstract mind, I choose to compose a seemingly pointless blog that structures my thoughts in a much more comprehensive way.

Something on my mind..:
If it works for me, then it works for me. If it doesn't disrupt the patterns of someone else's delicate soul, why is it their business? If it works for me, then it's good. In fact, it's right. I promise. I've prayed about it.
So why is it your business to refute the answer I received?

Something else on my mind..:
Why do I isolate myself? I have everyone convinced that I fit in. Except for myself.

And something number three..:
Why is he so good-looking?

That's just the woman in me baby.


...four weeks...

Homecoming. AKA The end of the world as we know it. And I feel fine.

It's true. Sometimes being a teenager feels like the end of the world. Especially when it comes to picking out what kind of cereal to eat in the morning. Or maybe you want it for lunch, even better. I'm sure your parents won't mind.

Here's my deal. Homecoming is just a date. With some fancy packaging on it.
It's like buying honey nut SPINS instead of honey nut CHEERIOS. A whole lot more money, for the same amount of enjoyment. A date is a date. So why does Homecoming make headlines?

Probably because the art of dating is dead.

A regular guy can't ask a regular girl on a regular date. Because a regular guy would rather have a girlfriend.
She can't eat those honey nut SPINS for breakfast! Because she'd rather have steak.
Guess what honey, at seven in the a.m. of your senior year, you're not ready for steak.

So why pay the extra money for Cheerios that taste the same? Because opportunity becomes obligation when it's staring you in the face.

So let's put the extra effort into making a day just as fun as any other day hanging out with our friends could be, let's stress ourselves out a little, and spend a little more money. Because we don't want to miss out on those Cheerios. After all, rumor has it they lower cholesterol.

Excerpt from Monday, June 8th 2009

I can't escape myself.
No matter how hard I try, no matter how far I run...
I can't do it.
There I am, waiting for me whenever the newest distraction I've concocted comes to an inevitable end, and I'm left with nothing. Nothing but me.
I'm always inside myself, wanting to break free, wanting to be some place other than me.
I don't even make sense.
And [[insert boy name here]]? He doesn't make sense either.
He is where I go to lose myself. But not in him,
in me. Yep, I get lost in myself.
I'm drowning myself.. Buried in something that I somehow took my own two hands and buried myself in.
I've buried myself in lies and illusions,
right along next to hopes, dreams, and accomplishments.
Dirtied by less than innocent thoughts and less than hopeful ambitions.
Buried in myself. Covered in what I'll never be.
But I see myself as what I appear to be.
I see myself as those dirtied hopes...
I can't tell the dirt from the dreams anymore.
It's buried me. It's stifling me.

But I can't get out of myself.

I'm indepently attached to you.
I'm depending on your freedom.
I'm free because you love me,
but we don't love...
we live.
I love away from you
and as I miss you, I don't need you.

And they don't know
and you don't know
how beautifully your absence strikes me.

I wander independently...
and love
away from you.

Awesomeness.

Good morning all.

So... Here we go. Life is crazy. I have so much to say and so little, where to begin?

Well I just got back from the temple. It just so happens that the Jordan River temple is closed on Mondays, in case y'all were wondering. But we went to breakfast anyway. And I feel pretty good at life. We concluded that the Lord will bless us for our willingness to serve.

Honestly He blesses us for stupider reasons than that..
Sometimes He blesses us for NO reason.
Except that He loves us.

My parents are really good examples that way. It's no secret that I'm the biggest spoiled brat in the universe. And sometimes (okay, I'll admit it) I feel like I deserve it or I'm entitled to it or something. Pride is probably my biggest temptation. But I was headed in a completely different direction with this. What I was going to say is that my parents help me out and support me even when I don't deserve it! They do it because they love me. And because they give me tons of credit for the good things I do, and forgive me when I make mistakes. Yep, I even have amazing parents, it doesn't get much more spoiled rotten than me.

So I went on tour this week. It was quite a trip. When it's all said and done it feels like the shortest four days of your life. But when you're in the moment, it feels like you're destined to live on a bus with your friends for the rest of eternity. When it's over, you've changed. Whether you like it or not you're a different person now. And you have to discover and cope with the feelings of a new being. Things change. I am one of those things.

Elder Steven E. Snow of the Presidency of the Seventy gave a talk just last week in General Conference about "getting on with our lives." He taught four ways of preparing for inevitable change in our lives:

1. Follow the prophets

2. Keep an eternal perspective

3. Have faith

4. Be of good cheer

If I may, I want to add to that list:

5. Put the gospel first in all things

6. Be grateful

I had another experience with tour that helped me learn, grow, and build my testimony. For months beforehand I was nervous to go on tour. The reasons why are too numerous to explain in great detail. One major stressor was simply the idea of being around so many people for so long. So many friendships and relationships to keep intact all at once is a great challenge for me! I was sure there would be teenage "drama" and plenty of contention and disagreements. I knew it would be a struggle for me to be surrounded by my peers for four full days. Nonetheless, I had a firm determination to enjoy myself. I was not going to hold back and let my anxieties stand in the way of the fun I could be having! I knew that to accomplish this, I would need strength beyond my own.

I can say sincerely that I was praying for weeks, maybe even a month in advance to be able to have a great experience on tour. And for strength for the entire month of April. Maybe I was a little paranoid, but I needed to prepare myself. From the moment I sat down on the bus, I could feel that strength pouring into me. Tour was full of great experiences, and trying ones, but through it all that strength remained. It was inside of me, but it was not mine. From somewhere beyond myself, I was being lifted and comforted through all emotional turmoil. From somewhere beyond myself, I found strength.

Now don't get me wrong. When I'm writing I tend to intensely dramatize things. That's just my style. And it wasn't like when I was on tour I was floating on some cloud ten feet off the ground. I didn't even recognize this "inner strength" I had found until the the third of four days! Sure I read my scriptures every night and tried to remember to pray, but it would be dishonest of me to pretend like I didn't have other things on my mind most of the time. How could I not with Prince Studmuffin hanging around?

Obviously living the gospel isn't about being a saint. Obviously the Lord chooses to bless us for stupid reasons, or no reason at all.

Except this. That He loves us.

In this last conference, Elder Rafael E. Pino said "Living the gospel . . . means that we will be prepared to face and endure adversity more confidently." Okay so maybe going on tour isn't considered "adversity" for most people. But it's definitely something that I needed help preparing to face and endure. Another quote from Elder Pino's talk: "This was the time to show loyalty to God and to acknowledge that we depend on Him, that His will must be obeyed, and that we are subject to Him." I believe that it is always this time! Especially in times of adversity, sure. But even in times of great happiness and security, or on little school trips to Seattle! I believe that the more we live the higher law when it comes to the little things, the easier it will become to live that law when we're faced with real challenges or temptation. If we practice living the commandments when things are running smoothly, then we won't have to struggle through and question what to do when times are hard, because we'll already know. "Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies." -Mother Teresa

I wanted to share one last thing in this newest post of mine. I wrote this months ago but it still stands strong!

"The most important thing for me in a guy is if he honors his priesthood. I don't care what he looks like, if he honors his priesthood and loves his Savior, that is attractive to me. I have noticed that young men who do not hold the priesthood often don't know how to treat young women. They are confused when I am annoyed by their immature, somewhat physical advances. A young man who honors his priesthood knows how to respect and admire young women without "coming on too strong." That kind of steadfast young man may not catch a girl's attention immediately, but will ultimately receive the kind of affection he is seeking from a virtuous young woman.A young man who desires to serve a mission is the only kind of young man I can enjoy going on a date with. This kind of young man makes me feel comfortable when I am with him because I know that not only can I keep my standards high in his presence, but he will encourage and make sure those high standards are kept."

The end.

P.s. To read more of Elder Snow's talk: http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-1032-25,00.html

To read more of Elder Pino's talk: http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-1032-14,00.html

Lately...

Can I miss you any more than this?
Is there any more of you to miss?
Do I ever cross your mind?
In deep recesses do you find
a never ending, constant bliss
for something you don't miss?

Can I praise you tenderly
without you thinking more of me?
You mistake sincerity
for something with less clarity.
How refreshing will it be
for you to sigh and think of me?

Are you blind to higher laws?
Will we ever love with flaws?
Can you and I find peace divine
if only one us will shine?
Forever searching for the cause
of what we have, that redeems flaws.

"Love," I whisper, you don't hear
though I'll forever hold you dear.
And in my heart, as time rolls by,
there is a place to think and sigh
and feelings bloom throughout the years
for I'll forever love you, dear.

Living with parents

The time has come.
This is it.
The end of an era.
The beginning of...
Responsibility?

The sixth and final brother is gone. Leaving me with.. myself. In a week he will take an airplane allll the way to... Arizona... Where I will faithfully write him uplifting letters each and every week.

And me? I'll go through his stuff and put his junk to good use. His clothes, his MP3 player, his Gameboy, his room. It will miss him, but not as much as I will. I'll think about him every now and then. But mostly I just stay occupado and pretend he'll be coming home late tonight. Denial? Nah.. More like when a child clings to a blanket when his mother leaves. More like comfort food. Less like denial, more like that.

And you know what the neatest thing is? A week and a half later I'll get the opportunity to go to the baptism of my very dear friends. And as I sit on the pew surrounded by friends with enormous hearts and strong testimonies, I get to look up at the stand and see the four handsome missionaries sitting there and I get to say "My brother's doing that." And I get to see, with my very own heart, the great work he has set out to do. The life-changing message he gets to share. And I get to feel in my very own soul, the greatest Spirit of acceptance. And my very own love.

I know that my Redeemer lives.

As Christmas draws nearer, I feel like I'm moving backwards in time, backwards to turkey sandwiches and candied yams. Back to Thanksgiving and an everlasting warmth of gratitude. An attitude that has so fully enveloped my heart that it has changed my life and strenghthened my soul. Not to mention the burning testimony within that soul.

Merry Christmas.