Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter
I can't stop thinking about the incredible forgiveness that this man has for the teenager who killed his pregnant wife and two children because he was drinking and driving. The way the man turned to the Savior instead of to bitterness is truly inspiring. We saw this video in Sunday School at church yesterday and one of the other guys in the class knows the 17-year-old who caused the crash. That makes it very real that though he was the cause, he's still a person. We discussed that by forgiving the teen, the man opened the door to the teen being able to repent and turn his life around and move forward. In the video, the man told the teen to pick a day and forget it all happened, to move on from it. He really doesn't want him to suffer any more. That is so noble. However, I was thinking that the boy's grief is just beginning. Once he falls in love, gets married and has children, he'll understand just what that loss meant to the other man. It would be a hard cross to bear. But with the help of Jesus Christ and His Atonement, he really can find relief and solace and forgiveness, even from such a severe mistake as this, just as we can all receive forgiveness for our mistakes. As an outreach coordinator for a traffic safety program, this message is especially close to home, since I promote safe driving all day, but this is a profound message of forgiveness and love that extends far beyond the story of just these two families and can be applied to us all.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Firestarter, Eggs and Visitors
So here I am waiting for the natural gas company to come check my water heater, per recommendation of the fire department who left my house a few minutes ago. So I was boiling some water to hard boil some eggs, not in conjunction with Easter or anything, but I just wanted some protein. While I was blow drying my hair with egg whites to make it curly, which was what triggered the idea to hard boil the eggs, I suddenly heard the dreaded fire alarm and it was shrieking "FIRE FIRE" in this monotone yet urgent and creepy voice. So I ran upstairs, truthfully unprepared to do anything about a fire (I didn't have a phone with me or water) but just natural instinct to run towards the cause of the scene. Fortunately, there was no fire, but there was smoke and it did stink. This was the first time I've boiled anything in this little old house I now call my humble abode and I guess the stove is lazy and doesn't really like being used, so it put up a fight. Or it was probably dirty and the crumbs were causing the smoke. Anyway, I couldn't "hush" the fire alarm as it claimed to be capable of doing and then it started yelling "Carbon Monoxide" instead of fire, in that same passive-aggressive voice which got me a little nervous, especially because I lost a friend and his father in high school to that very poisoning.
Well I took off that little frazzler of an alarm so it would stop yelling at me and opened the doors and continued getting ready for the day. I kept getting paranoid that I heard footsteps upstairs and that now a carbon monoxide warning would turn into the invitation of an unwelcome visitor, so I came upstairs and started getting ready up there. All the while, I was considering the instructions on the alarm 1) Disable 2) Go outside 3) Call fire department or 911. I really didn't want to call anybody, I just wanted to go to the temple, but I kept thinking about the new roommate who moved in, who wasn't here, but who would inevitably come home some time today, and boy would I not want to make the papers as the girl who killed her new roommate, so I decided to make a call. I made sure not to call 911, just the normal fire department line, hoping they would come casually, calmly and inconspicuously.
After a few minutes, I heard the sirens. I prayed they weren't coming to my house, that they were for something else. "Please, not the sirens. Please." Well up pulls the big red one, complete with flashing lights and the sirens and two big guys in full UNIFORM with TANKS on their backs running up to my door. "You called?" They asked. "Yeeeah." I responded. So they came and checked it out and said it was fine. Turns out carbon monoxide can only be triggered by water heaters or regular heaters, not stoves, which I did Google carbon monoxide but didn't learn about how its specific causes, just what it is, until after the big red one had to come. They did look at the water heater though and detected some natural gas, which could turn into a fire, so they requested I call the natural gas company straightaway. I did that and they told me to exit my house immediately but stand by so I could let them in, which I didn't do and am not doing, but I will sit by, inside. So as I was doing that, a knock at the door that I thought was the gas company, faired my landlord saying he saw a fire truck here. The landlord that came over on a Sunday evening to blow up my air mattress because I didn't have batteries for the pump. Yeah, turns out I'm THAT tenant.
Well all of this Saturday afternoon stealing fire business took me back to several instances with the fire department that I've had before. 1) On my LDS mission in Italy when I locked the keys inside the apartment. That happened on several occasions, but this time the elders weren't available to let us in with the spare key, so in Italy, the fire department handles those kinds of situations. And they use lights and sirens. Later on in my mission, while serving on an island, we were cooking an American dinner for our favorite Italian convert family who was inviting their friends over to learn more about these crazy Americans who leave their house for two years to come talk about God and happiness and truth, all the while dressed in mid-calf length skirts. (Do you know how hard those are to find??) Well during that cooking experience, I left a little towel on the stove which happened to still be hot and it actually did start the towel on fire. They took all these pictures with me looking through the hole and I never let that one down, even when I went back to visit three years later. Fortunately, the friends of the family really loved the message from the Book of Mormon we shared about Jesus Christ and they felt the spirit and were baptized. Well, it's a good thing we do believe in baptism by water and by fire :)
After that, I was in college at BYU and had a flat tire and a fire truck happened to pull into my apartment complex for a false alarm, but decided they were friendly firefighters and that they would change my tire for me. I really appreciated that, but at the same time, was a bit horrified to be seen with the big red. And the last fire story I have for you today is when I was cast as "Seizure Girl" in the sequel to Stephen King's Firestarter movie with Drew Barrymore, where I got to act out this seizure for the horrible sequel which only ever made it to HBO. I did get paid $200 for a few hours of seizing and alka seltzer and for a 16 year old that was legitimate bragging rights, not to mention they let my dad be an extra and run around during the pandaemonium scene where these possessed kids with crazy powers were causing all kinds of trouble for people like me. But today, it was only me causing trouble for me.
I guess these blogs are good for something because last time I posted when I had the cold, my angel of a friend brought over sick person food for me and bottled water, which was THE nicest thing IN THE WORLD and really made me realize the importance of doing the little nice things for people and would not have happened if I had just wrote that in my private journal. So, should I expect a fire extinguisher this time? Anybody?
On a new note, during yoga today, which turned out to be pilates because the instructor never showed so this pilates instructor who came for a yoga class, stepped in and led a class, I stood up and got light headed. That is the strangest place to be in, where everything is black and you're dizzy and you know you're out of it, but you can't do anything about it and then you go to that place, that dizzy place that is so bizarre. Maybe people that do drugs go to places like that when they're high, but as one who has never experimented with the likes of any mind-altering substance, starting to black out is the only place I know where you're physically removed from the present. Bizarre.
Looks like the gas guy is here! Perhaps I will get to leave my house eventually today after all :)
Well I took off that little frazzler of an alarm so it would stop yelling at me and opened the doors and continued getting ready for the day. I kept getting paranoid that I heard footsteps upstairs and that now a carbon monoxide warning would turn into the invitation of an unwelcome visitor, so I came upstairs and started getting ready up there. All the while, I was considering the instructions on the alarm 1) Disable 2) Go outside 3) Call fire department or 911. I really didn't want to call anybody, I just wanted to go to the temple, but I kept thinking about the new roommate who moved in, who wasn't here, but who would inevitably come home some time today, and boy would I not want to make the papers as the girl who killed her new roommate, so I decided to make a call. I made sure not to call 911, just the normal fire department line, hoping they would come casually, calmly and inconspicuously.
After a few minutes, I heard the sirens. I prayed they weren't coming to my house, that they were for something else. "Please, not the sirens. Please." Well up pulls the big red one, complete with flashing lights and the sirens and two big guys in full UNIFORM with TANKS on their backs running up to my door. "You called?" They asked. "Yeeeah." I responded. So they came and checked it out and said it was fine. Turns out carbon monoxide can only be triggered by water heaters or regular heaters, not stoves, which I did Google carbon monoxide but didn't learn about how its specific causes, just what it is, until after the big red one had to come. They did look at the water heater though and detected some natural gas, which could turn into a fire, so they requested I call the natural gas company straightaway. I did that and they told me to exit my house immediately but stand by so I could let them in, which I didn't do and am not doing, but I will sit by, inside. So as I was doing that, a knock at the door that I thought was the gas company, faired my landlord saying he saw a fire truck here. The landlord that came over on a Sunday evening to blow up my air mattress because I didn't have batteries for the pump. Yeah, turns out I'm THAT tenant.
Well all of this Saturday afternoon stealing fire business took me back to several instances with the fire department that I've had before. 1) On my LDS mission in Italy when I locked the keys inside the apartment. That happened on several occasions, but this time the elders weren't available to let us in with the spare key, so in Italy, the fire department handles those kinds of situations. And they use lights and sirens. Later on in my mission, while serving on an island, we were cooking an American dinner for our favorite Italian convert family who was inviting their friends over to learn more about these crazy Americans who leave their house for two years to come talk about God and happiness and truth, all the while dressed in mid-calf length skirts. (Do you know how hard those are to find??) Well during that cooking experience, I left a little towel on the stove which happened to still be hot and it actually did start the towel on fire. They took all these pictures with me looking through the hole and I never let that one down, even when I went back to visit three years later. Fortunately, the friends of the family really loved the message from the Book of Mormon we shared about Jesus Christ and they felt the spirit and were baptized. Well, it's a good thing we do believe in baptism by water and by fire :)
After that, I was in college at BYU and had a flat tire and a fire truck happened to pull into my apartment complex for a false alarm, but decided they were friendly firefighters and that they would change my tire for me. I really appreciated that, but at the same time, was a bit horrified to be seen with the big red. And the last fire story I have for you today is when I was cast as "Seizure Girl" in the sequel to Stephen King's Firestarter movie with Drew Barrymore, where I got to act out this seizure for the horrible sequel which only ever made it to HBO. I did get paid $200 for a few hours of seizing and alka seltzer and for a 16 year old that was legitimate bragging rights, not to mention they let my dad be an extra and run around during the pandaemonium scene where these possessed kids with crazy powers were causing all kinds of trouble for people like me. But today, it was only me causing trouble for me.
I guess these blogs are good for something because last time I posted when I had the cold, my angel of a friend brought over sick person food for me and bottled water, which was THE nicest thing IN THE WORLD and really made me realize the importance of doing the little nice things for people and would not have happened if I had just wrote that in my private journal. So, should I expect a fire extinguisher this time? Anybody?
On a new note, during yoga today, which turned out to be pilates because the instructor never showed so this pilates instructor who came for a yoga class, stepped in and led a class, I stood up and got light headed. That is the strangest place to be in, where everything is black and you're dizzy and you know you're out of it, but you can't do anything about it and then you go to that place, that dizzy place that is so bizarre. Maybe people that do drugs go to places like that when they're high, but as one who has never experimented with the likes of any mind-altering substance, starting to black out is the only place I know where you're physically removed from the present. Bizarre.
Looks like the gas guy is here! Perhaps I will get to leave my house eventually today after all :)
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
April 20th 2011
For the first time in my life I'm early for something and am rewarded with the luxury of sitting in a fire warmed lounge with plush couches. Oh and I must not forget the relaxing music. My new goal is to always be a few mimutes early. That way I'll at least be on time.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
4/19/2011
So I've never been one to think I'd start a blog, but here I am with a cold and nothing else to do, so I'm lying on this horribly uncomfortable air mattress I call my bed, starting my online journal. I've been journaling since I was 8 and have been paranoid about anyone reading anything I wrote in my journals since then. But I figured that since no one will really read this anyway, it won't make much of a difference. I'll be talking to myself with an open, unknown audience potentially in the background. It will be an interesting experiment at the very least. I'll still leave the most personal thoughts in my hand-written journal, but I guess I'll open up a little bit here.
Just so it's clear, I'm going to try not to worry too much about grammar or spelling or anything, and just let the thoughts flow freely like I do in my journal. Any other time, except for in texts, I am kind of a grammar snob. I had an English emphasis in my Humanities major at BYU and tutored English in college and just really want people to speak and write correctly, but in a journal, the rules vanish. Just like dating rules go out the window if something larger steps in front. For example, I recently broke up with a guy, well he broke up with me, which usually makes it easy to just cut those ties. But then his mom died. So I did everything I wouldn't do in the case of being dumped, or what I imagine I wouldn't do, because that's actually the first time anyone's ever really dumped me, and I pounced. Well, that sounds a bit cat and mouse, and makes me think of Mean Girls when they have these random scenes showing people as animals, but I did kind of do that. I called and text and emailed and even stopped by his parent's house, giving gifts and cards. It was a bit comical in my opinion but I felt so incredibly bad about not being able to do more, that I did what I could. That was an incredibly stressful time for me, though I was nothing in that equation of his loss. But I did exist, not in his world, but in mine, and it was so hard wanting to be there for someone that I cared so much about, but not really being able to. An email is an email. When I'm there for someone, it's a whole lot more than that. I'll bet that's how Heavenly Father feels all the time. When we're struggling and He'd want to shower us with his unconditional love and peace, but we push Him away for whatever reason it may be. Or we let him step inside the door, but not come inside the home. So we get a little comfort and direction, but miss what could be the very thing we need the most, so much more than the taste we limit it to.
So I mentioned my air mattress. I could buy a bed. But I get anxiety if I don't save a nest egg and that is getting thinner since the move, naturally. Nest egg is a phrase I would not use under normal circumstances but my life is NOT normal right now. I got involved in this play and it's sucked out all of my time and sent my stress through the roof. I thought it would be a good way to get a change of pace, sometimes sucking stale air can make you go crazy. So I volunteered to be in this play, filling in for the lady initially cast as Costanza, the Italian Housekeeper in Enchanted April, who just wasn't working out. And they use the word nest egg in that play. It's been fun and I've loved the people I've met doing it, but it's too much for me right now. I work a ton and then go to rehearsal and in the middle of it all, I moved.
I'd been living with my parents since I graduated from college, which was two years ago, and I'd been wanting to move out for a long time, but then there was the elderly grandma to take care of and later the older sister who moved in and I just never felt like it was the right time. Was it the right time now? Who knows. As I'm sick with a cold today, lying on my blow up mattress that hurts by already bad back, I wonder. I have no food for sick people and no filtered water, so my motivation to hydrate as I should is rather low. I thought about the delicious tomato soup and squaw bread that would be waiting for me at my parent's house and all the purified water I could drink and great company, including that of my parents who I rarely appreciated enough, and how everything now is in boxes and I don't have time to unpack because of work and the play, and I wonder even more. Plus I miss my sister. We hadn't lived together since she moved out when I was 8, so for the first time, I got to know her as a sister, not a guest on holidays. I really love her. For the first time, I understand what the definition of sister means. I'd used that word all my life, but had I had a sister before? A different kind maybe, but this is the real stuff. I guess that's how any kind of love is. It grows and changes. But I kinda wish we could have spent more time together as sisters sharing a roof, but I got over-anxious to get a new scene, be closer to work, and be independent. It's a good thing.
Perhaps 26 year olds shouldn't live at home. But maybe it doesn't really matter where you live as long as you live right. I still consider myself living right, in the sense that I am trying to be a good person, but when I can't stand up straight in the teeny shower because I'm too tall, my room is 10x10, my clothes are everywhere because there's no room in the closet to hang them and I have a blow up mattress, it doesn't seem that glamorous. This is what I'd hoped for and thought about for two years and now I have it and it's not that great. I think that happens a lot. We want this or that and we'll be happy when, but once that time comes, we realize we forgot to really appreciate all of the happy moments along the way.
Just so it's clear, I'm going to try not to worry too much about grammar or spelling or anything, and just let the thoughts flow freely like I do in my journal. Any other time, except for in texts, I am kind of a grammar snob. I had an English emphasis in my Humanities major at BYU and tutored English in college and just really want people to speak and write correctly, but in a journal, the rules vanish. Just like dating rules go out the window if something larger steps in front. For example, I recently broke up with a guy, well he broke up with me, which usually makes it easy to just cut those ties. But then his mom died. So I did everything I wouldn't do in the case of being dumped, or what I imagine I wouldn't do, because that's actually the first time anyone's ever really dumped me, and I pounced. Well, that sounds a bit cat and mouse, and makes me think of Mean Girls when they have these random scenes showing people as animals, but I did kind of do that. I called and text and emailed and even stopped by his parent's house, giving gifts and cards. It was a bit comical in my opinion but I felt so incredibly bad about not being able to do more, that I did what I could. That was an incredibly stressful time for me, though I was nothing in that equation of his loss. But I did exist, not in his world, but in mine, and it was so hard wanting to be there for someone that I cared so much about, but not really being able to. An email is an email. When I'm there for someone, it's a whole lot more than that. I'll bet that's how Heavenly Father feels all the time. When we're struggling and He'd want to shower us with his unconditional love and peace, but we push Him away for whatever reason it may be. Or we let him step inside the door, but not come inside the home. So we get a little comfort and direction, but miss what could be the very thing we need the most, so much more than the taste we limit it to.
So I mentioned my air mattress. I could buy a bed. But I get anxiety if I don't save a nest egg and that is getting thinner since the move, naturally. Nest egg is a phrase I would not use under normal circumstances but my life is NOT normal right now. I got involved in this play and it's sucked out all of my time and sent my stress through the roof. I thought it would be a good way to get a change of pace, sometimes sucking stale air can make you go crazy. So I volunteered to be in this play, filling in for the lady initially cast as Costanza, the Italian Housekeeper in Enchanted April, who just wasn't working out. And they use the word nest egg in that play. It's been fun and I've loved the people I've met doing it, but it's too much for me right now. I work a ton and then go to rehearsal and in the middle of it all, I moved.
I'd been living with my parents since I graduated from college, which was two years ago, and I'd been wanting to move out for a long time, but then there was the elderly grandma to take care of and later the older sister who moved in and I just never felt like it was the right time. Was it the right time now? Who knows. As I'm sick with a cold today, lying on my blow up mattress that hurts by already bad back, I wonder. I have no food for sick people and no filtered water, so my motivation to hydrate as I should is rather low. I thought about the delicious tomato soup and squaw bread that would be waiting for me at my parent's house and all the purified water I could drink and great company, including that of my parents who I rarely appreciated enough, and how everything now is in boxes and I don't have time to unpack because of work and the play, and I wonder even more. Plus I miss my sister. We hadn't lived together since she moved out when I was 8, so for the first time, I got to know her as a sister, not a guest on holidays. I really love her. For the first time, I understand what the definition of sister means. I'd used that word all my life, but had I had a sister before? A different kind maybe, but this is the real stuff. I guess that's how any kind of love is. It grows and changes. But I kinda wish we could have spent more time together as sisters sharing a roof, but I got over-anxious to get a new scene, be closer to work, and be independent. It's a good thing.
Perhaps 26 year olds shouldn't live at home. But maybe it doesn't really matter where you live as long as you live right. I still consider myself living right, in the sense that I am trying to be a good person, but when I can't stand up straight in the teeny shower because I'm too tall, my room is 10x10, my clothes are everywhere because there's no room in the closet to hang them and I have a blow up mattress, it doesn't seem that glamorous. This is what I'd hoped for and thought about for two years and now I have it and it's not that great. I think that happens a lot. We want this or that and we'll be happy when, but once that time comes, we realize we forgot to really appreciate all of the happy moments along the way.
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