For sleeping (or crying?)

Mmmmmmm this song is so soothing. So sad, but so soothing.

Don't worry, I am perfectly happy, just going through music that I want available to me on an upcoming long car ride. This is on the list. It's a good list.

Aaand just like that, Alyssa has posted yet another Sara Bareilles song on her blog. Hands up if you're surprised? 

No one. Aight. That's cool.

Happy Monday evening!

Search the Book

There are many verses of scripture that have become favorites as I've searched the Book of Mormon, but today I'll just share one lil favorite of mine.

It is found in 2 Nephi 25:26, and it says:

"And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins."

I love the idea of recording my life. I keep a journal and I write this blog and I Instagram stuff every now and then because keeping a record of life in this moment is important to me. The things I think, the things I like, the things I dislike, the people I'm with--all these are likely to change as time passes, and I want to look back to see what and how and why they changed. It helps me see and appreciate progress in all its forms. 

I'm thankful for the records kept by generations past, both ancient and close to home. I can learn reading from the stories of others just as much as I can learn from remembering my own story. This is a large part of my love for the Book of Mormon.

What I love to read and record the very most, however, are stories which include miracles and testimonies of Christ. I believe that everyone can find miracles if they keep their eyes open. I want to watch for and record those miracles, attributing them to their true source as a testimony for my posterity. (You think I'm kidding when I mention that my blog is for posterity, but I'm only kidding by about 5%.) I have felt the power of Christ's atonement in my life. I want to record that feeling and those life changes, "that [my] children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins." This is important. Of all that I love to record, this is the most important. 

I hope that my children and grandchildren will be able to say from reading my writings that I did talk of, rejoice in, and preach of Christ at every opportunity I could find.





Idea and prompt from this missionary Facebook group.  

Memoir of a reunion

Today marks the one-year anniversary of Joseph coming home from his mission. Since I never wrote on this lil blog about that day specifically (this post was as close as I got), I thought I'd share a brief memoir.


On June 26, 2013, I woke up feeling a little excited and a lot nervous. Despite planning ahead a couple weeks, I had no guarantee that any of my coworkers could take my shift so that I could meet the Facers in time to head to the airport. I also had no guarantee that my head and my heart both wanted me to head to the airport, so my poor, torn self was almost (ALMOST) grateful for the excuse to stay in Provo.

I wanted to see him, but I didn't know if I wanted to marry him. I did know that he wanted to marry me. This caused stress.

I worked very absent-mindedly for half of my morning shift, until with approximately two minutes to spare, my lovely coworker walked in the door to cover for me. I bolted outta there and sped to the Facers, arriving just in time to leave for the airport. What a relief?

I remember very little about anything else until the moment when we saw him walking right at us. And all I really remember about that very first moment of seeing him, in person, for the first time in two years, is that I couldn't not smile about it. 

He let me know far in advance that he had promised himself that he would abide by his mission rules until his actual release, which meant I would not get any airport hug. What he did not let me know was that I would also get very limited amounts of airport eye contact. I thought I was the one feeling nervous, but I suppose he had a right to feel nervous as well. This was about as close as I got to him for nearly all our airport time:

But I assure you I was trying to get closer.

Anyway, we can probably fast forward through the car ride to Aunt Betsy's (where we sat far apart, of course) and even through the awkward reunions which happened at the beginning of the celebratory picnic. These chunks of time were filled with catching up on both ends. He told stories, we told stories, back and forth.

The most significant part of that day for me was when he had finally been released from his calling as a missionary and could finally allow himself to acknowledge me. I was just eating a sandwich and talking to Grandma, and suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder that could not have belonged to anyone else. 

And that hand is the best thing my shoulder has ever felt, before or since that day. It was, surprisingly, a better moment than the hug which followed immediately after. The hug was public: his whole family was watching by that point. But the hand on the shoulder--that was one of those magical instances where you don't see the significance coming. It was quiet and soft and firm and screaming, all at once, and it mattered. That darn hug I had dreamed about for two years paled severely in comparison to the first touch I had never even imagined.

Things mostly turned normal after that. We ate, we took pictures, we bought him an iPhone (veeery important, you know), and we chillaxed with the fam. I do believe he brought up the marriage question that day? The next day? So my nervousness was very warranted, people!

But the rest of that is probably a story for another time. 


I lovelovelove this Joseph boy. I am thankful every day for the mission he served, the experiences he had, the lessons he learned, and the man he became because of all that. I am also thankful for the equivalent experiences, lessons, etc. that I went through while he was gone. As wonderful as it was to reunite, I don't think either of us would ever trade those "best two years" for anything. 

It just might be true that absence makes the heart grow fonder...but let's not test it again, k babe?

K.

Dress your tech!

There is something wonderful on the world wide web that you may want to know about. I have no clue how I first came across interweb gem, but I have become a serious repeat customer ever since, and I just want to share it with you all. 

It's Bri Emery's weekly DRESS YOUR TECH feature over on her blog, and it mostly just involves lovely free pictures to use as your computer/laptop/tablet/phone backgrounds. 

I recently started feeling a wee bit tired of my laptop backgrounds, which was probably justified since they've been there since 2011, and I recently got a new phone, for which apparently nothing but galaxy backgrounds existed. I've always felt weird about having pictures of people I love as my background images (I can't explain it so don't ask why), so pretty much all of my own background resources were exhausted. Sooooo on my reading day last week, I went through all the archives of DRESS YOUR TECH and found my very favorites.

My phone now looks like this:

And my desktop now cycles through these:

It's such a simple way to feel a little uplift, but this sure did the trick for me. If you, too, are in need of a happy little change, head on over to DRESS YOUR TECH and get yourself something pretty. I did mention that these are all freebies, right??

I love when artists share their talents online because I really just don't have a knack for this sorta stuff. I really really love when they share their stuff for free because my lack of visual arts talent means that I can appreciate the value of pretty visuals in my life (grass is always greener...), but I can't create them on my own! Waaaahhhh I'm a baby. It could be a harsh irony, but thanks to these folks, it doesn't have to be, so that's nice of them.

Go forth! Dress your tech! And holler if you have any other sources up your little sleeves.

On a related note: I used to download these freebies from Becky Higgins (scroll all the way to the bottom of the page) on my old phone for backgrounds and I loved them, in case you want some more small-device-specific backgrounds.

First day of summer

Today marks the start of my real summer for this year. Like, my summer that does not involve school and homework. Like, now the party can begin. It's kind of ironic that it's two days after the summer solstice, am I right? You could say that's a solid metaphor for my life: always about 2 minutes or hours or days late. Or whatever.

Anyway, I start this summer with sore muscles, dry hands, and a rumbly stomach because this weekend was kinda cray cray. A good kind of cray cray, but still.

I spent the majority of my Saturday helping to clean the home of my wonderfully sweet visiting teachee, who was on the verge of going into labor with her first baby all day long. Superwoman much? Um, yes. We cleaned to get their house ready for new tenants because, of course, they are moving before this baby comes. She's planning on a home birth not at this perfectly cleaned house, however, and I just think those freshly bleached walls would sure be helpful if baby decided to come before the week's out. I'm just saying...being born in the cleanest home in town sounds like the next best thing after a hospital.

So that all contributed to the sore muscles and dry hands. 

And the rumbly stomach? That is a result of a) the cherries, b) the flu, or c) the bleach inhalation. If it's the cherries, it's because forthelove I just can't eat less than a wholestinkinlot when they're fresh off the tree. If it's the flu, I thank my niece and nephew and I know it'll pass quickly. If it's the bleach...well, I really don't think that's a thing, but I've learned from watching House lately that one can never rule out toxins, even if the tox screen is clean. (Did that sound official? Is this TMI?)

Oh! I also made my first yeast bread (!) in my own kitchen (!!) and it turned out preeetty yummy. Cinnamon rolls are always yummy, though, so I think I'll try again tonight with pizza dough and see if I get good results yet again. Pizza must be more difficult because it's not covered in sugar and frosting, right?

So like I said, it was kind of a crazy weekend, but a good one. I'm ready for this mental change of seasons because that always means new goals and new projects and new motivation and whatnot. I'll be writing myself a formal list later this week (maybe a little bit like this manifesto?) since that always keeps me more on track, and as usual, there's a chance I might share it with y'all. Accountability and stuff. (Cuz that worked so well last summer...)

In the meantime, anyone have any great summer goals or plans or projects or whatnot that they want to share? Or books to read! Yeah, sure, I'll throw that on the list of things to share. I'm always on the hunt for good new books during this, the laziest of seasons.

Happy summer, folks!

Stuff I learn 4

:: I finally had to learn how to change a flat tire this last week. There were no extreme circumstances involved, thank goodness, and now I won't just break down and cry if I ever need to pull over to change one myself. At least, I hope that won't happen... In any case, it's good news that I know this new skill.

:: Time and distance become equivalent terms when you are trying to see things really far away. This is because light takes time to travel to our eyes from wherever it originates. If an object is millions of lightyears away, it takes millions of years for that light to reach our eyes. Meanwhile, however, that object is morphing and growing and getting older, so it no longer looks anything like what we finally get to see. Thus, we look back in time when we look far away. Distance = time.

:: All of Star Wars takes place in one galaxy's worth of space. 

:: Berries smell like you expect them to if you just wash them and stick them in a food container for a while. I always thought artificial flavors/smells/whatever must be based on fiction because no blueberry in its little holey plastic thing smells like blueberry muffins. BUT I have been pleasantly surprised all week as I have brought my berries to work as a snack and discovered wonderfully summery aromas coming out of my Tupperware. I also learned from a friend recently that apparently concord grapes taste just like artificial grape flavoring. Maybe that should go the other way around. Oh well. I'm just saying that it's nice to know that my fruit snack flavors weren't just arbitrarily decided at some uncertain point in the past.

Berry sale!

The best lunch in the world

We were talking about food, right? Let's keep talking about food. Food is good.

As a little girl, one of my favorite family traditions was the annual birthday sleepover at Grammie's house. It meant scrapbooking, shopping, movie-watching...and bean burritos. Gram made the best bean burritos--no question--and they were always my dinner request for birthday weekend.

In recent years, I've eaten lots of bean burritos because they are super cheap and super easy. It's one of my staples, and I'm fortunate that Joe likes them also so that I can avoid making a real dinner every now and then. 

I used to think putting salsa on top of these burritos counted as a veggie for my 5-a-day, but in a recent effort to eat more veggies for realsies, I have learned what putting veggies on a bean burrito can really do for it. So without further ado, please enjoy this wannabe recipe for the quickest and most delicious at-home burrito in the world.

Actually, I have more ado. A quick word on refried beans: in my experience, refried beans are not a product where you should buy the store brand, but fat free versions of name brands are usually yum (of the ones I've tried). Okay okay okay, I'll just say it--no Western Family beans! They are much too thick and they lack flavor. Sorry, WF.

Anyway, spread some of those fancy refried beans on a tortilla. Cut two slices of cheddar cheese and line them up along the center of the tortilla. Fold the tortilla into thirds around that cheese strip and flip the whole thing over so that it's seam-side-down. Nuke it in the microwave for a minute or so, just long enough for the cheese to melt. Start chopping veggies! Quick, you only have one minute.

Now comes the fun part. Start with a little bit of sour cream and spread it all up and down that burrito. Then add a leaf or two of finely chopped lettuce, which should stay put nicely on the sour cream top. Put some tomato on there, and don't be ashamed of eating the whole thing. Add some onion, or green onion, or whatever. And avocado! Don't forget the avocado!! Then, sprinkle (?) just a bit of salsa on top for a flavor boost, and you're all set.

If you're me, you'll want a nice glass of milk with that. If you're Joseph, you'll want ranch or BBQ (on the burrito, not in a glass). Also if you are Joseph, you may put yours together in the reverse order: pile everything on and then fold it all up. Either way is fine, see?

And then just enjoy cuz really, man, this lunch is the best one in the world. 

Cost: about $1.20
Prep time: about 5 minutes
Yum factor: 10
Fill factor: also 10 (for me.) (It's a 5 for Joseph, who usually eats two of these.)

"Girl Eats Food"

[This was an assignment for my multicultural education class a couple semesters ago.]

To start, I chose a buffet-style diorama because although I have never had an eating disorder, both obesity and anorexia have come very close to me through those I love, and I have nearly been on the brink of both at different points in my life. The culture of food is a big deal to me, and almost all food items really do have deeper associations in my brain than simply, “This is food so I eat it.”

My first item is a package of Top Ramen. A couple years ago, I swore off of Ramen forever because I heard it was one of the top 10 worst foods one could possibly eat. A month ago, I got married and suddenly, I had to eat Ramen to survive. For newlyweds who are both in school and working full time to stay afloat in the cheapest apartment they could find, a quick 17¢ meal is one of the few affordable (and available) options. I now eat Ramen almost every day, but I can’t wait to drop it again. Top Ramen symbolizes my recent (and now semi-permanent) experience as a “starving student.” Turns out living paycheck to paycheck ain’t easy.

My second item is a jar of peanut butter. I firmly believe that peanut butter is the most celestial food on this planet, and I consider any day where I don’t eat peanut butter simply well-wasted. I am convinced that life without peanut butter would not be worth living. The cultural connection here is to my religious beliefs, which form a major part of my cultural identity. In my lifelong LDS church membership, religious activities have become as important as peanut butter: life without religion would not be worth living, any day that does not include religion is well-wasted, and gradually my intake of religion makes my life more celestial. Peanut butter symbolizes my forever commitment to my beliefs and my testimony. Long live peanut butter.

My last item is a can of tomato sauce. My mom used tomato sauce in a lot of her recipes; I know because I was always the one sent to fetch some from the storage room downstairs. After moving out for the first time, I bought some tomato sauce, knowing how much Mom uses it, but I have yet to find a recipe that I can make which requires tomato sauce. Although I was practically raised on the stuff, I cannot yet apply my experiences of the past to my current situations. However, I greatly look forward to the process of learning how to combine my family traditions and my husband’s family traditions into brand new, our-family traditions. Tomato sauce represents my simultaneous return to family roots and forward-looking attitude in the building of my family. Because family tops every priority list.

Food is not just food. And this girl eats food.

Discover the Book

I discovered the Book of Mormon for the first time when I was eight years old. My "achievement days" leader hosted a Book of Mormon read-a-thon and then encouraged us to keep reading every day after that. I read two verses, marking them as I went, every night until I finished.

I re-discovered the Book of Mormon during the nearly church-wide speed-read of it during the last half of 2005. Remember President Hinckley's challenge? I was 12 years old then, and this was the first time I remember finally grasping the overall plot of the Book of Mormon. It was fun and exciting.

I re-re-discovered the Book of Mormon during my senior year of high school, when we were guaranteed an A grade in early morning seminary if we would read the entire book during the term. I read the Book of Mormon four times that year, not because I was desperate for an A in seminary, but because I was falling in love with its teachings and testimonies. This was the discovery of a lifetime for me, in many literal ways.

I have learned in my few adult years that I can re-discover the Book of Mormon every time I pick it up. I find new insights, new encouragement, and new hope every night when I read it. What a blessing it is to have scripture written specifically for us! I know that the Book of Mormon is true both historically and doctrinally, and I know that reading it has blessed my life on countless occasions. I say a big AMEN to President Hinckley's promise:

"Without reservation I promise you that if each of you will observe this simple program, regardless of how many times you previously may have read the Book of Mormon, there will come into your lives and into your homes an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to His commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God."

Idea and prompt from this missionary Facebook group.  

A lovely find

This song brought to you by my favorite Pandora station. 

Rooftop concert: We Are The Strike

On Friday night we girded up our loins and headed to the best free concert on this side of the Mississippi...

...Downtown Provo's Rooftop Concert!!

We'd been waiting for this particular concert because its featured band was We Are The Strike and we're big fans of theirs. Joseph is a big fan because a) he knows a couple members, and b) they play funk. I am a big fan because a) Joseph is a big fan, and b) their music is irresistibly fun. Irresistible enough that even Joe dances, which you'll know is saying something if you've ever been to a high school dance with him.

Anyway, we headed to the venue as early as we could and wandered around a bit as it filled up. Joe wandered to talk to his guitar professor who was playing in one of the opening bands (weird? just a bit), and I wandered to get me a free hipster t-shirt. I also tried snapping artsy fartsy photos of the surrounding folk with my phone, but this was as exciting as it got:

But look how cute those lil lantern lights are! If there's one thing those rooftop people have nailed, it's atmosphere. Food trucks, twinkle lights, and free music make for a darn good party. 

We stood super close to the front. For some reason, it's a little nerve-wracking for me to be up there. I think I worry about my hearing most of all? But I suppose it's loud no matter where you go at a concert. In any case, at least standing at the front lets you catch the free stuff they chuck. We snagged another t-shirt and a car USB charger, so I guess free concerts tend to pay themselves off nicely.

That last picture was one of the warm-up bands; these guys here were the main feature. They were fantastic, as per the usual.

Such drama! Also, that's either a UFO or a street lamp in the top left corner...I'm not quite sure.

We Are The Strike surpassed our expectations once again. We had a blast! If anyone's ever looking for a wonderful date night in Provo, we would highly recommend the Rooftop Concert Series. First Friday of every month through October, peeps. Holler if you're going and maybe we'll see you there.

For some much better pictures of the event, click here. Keep an eye out for Joseph's forehead as you peruse. 

Stuff I learn 3

:: Brining your chicken works really well if you do it right. Put a couple chicken breasts (frozen or thawed) in a gallon-sized bag with a tablespoon or two of salt. Fill the bag with warmish water, zip it up, and move things around just a bit to stir 'em up. Put the whole thing in a bowl in the fridge and let it sit there for 3 or 4 hours. Then drain the bag of the water, rinse the chicken, dry it off, and use it for whatever great chicken plans you may have. You will have the most tender chicken you have ever experienced, probably. (I did, anyway.) Three cheers for brining!


:: Alma 26:16, 36 says, "Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord? Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men? ... If this is boasting, even so will I boast; for this is my life and my light, my joy and my salvation." I read this during my scripture study the other night and it so perfectly described how I feel lately. Sometimes I'm a little shy about posting religion on my social media (more so on Facebook than on my blog), but what reason do I have to be like that? 

So now to the technical "stuff I learn" part of this: Last Saturday the missionaries visited and helped us set up some social media missionary work. I literally had no clue how to link my blog to my Mormon.org profile, but it turns out that asking the missionaries really works! They helped me set it up in a jiffy. Click on the Salt Lake temple picture over on yonder right side bar or follow this link if you wanna check it out. Ten points to Gryffindor if you find my typo (and 50 points to the house of your choice if it's not the one I'm thinking of).

:: A "jiffy" is an actual measurement of time, and it means different things depending on what field you're in. My favorite definition is "the time it takes light to travel one centimeter." Thank you, Wikipedia.

We won the landlord lottery

Our apartment is one of six in a house that became apartments sometime between 1950 and 2013. Next door is a similar situation: used to be a house, but now is 6 apartments. In one of those apartments, you will find our landlords, Christina and Robert. They are good people.

We live in the house behind the tree. Our landlords live in that tan house on the left.

Christina places adorably colorful whiteboard messages in the community laundry room every month. When we first moved in, I was scared of South Provo a little bit, but her little message told us all to leave our porch lights on all night long. "Let's light this place up!" she wrote, and my heart was like, "Yes, please, let's. I don't want to die." Similarly positive and upbeat messages have gone up in the laundry room every month, and I love them.

In May, the whiteboard message told us all to check our apartments for anything broken, burnt out, leaking, growing, or otherwise undesirable and to holler for help. "We want to take care of you guys!" she wrote, and I was all, "You already do!" But we kinda needed new fire alarms and light bulbs, a fix for our shower drain (which would usually not, in fact, drain), and an AC unit, so I hollered. 

The day I sent Christina the email, she told me they were on it. The next day, they bought supplies. She asked me when they could come fix everything. I told them we'd be home all day, and within a few hours, everything was fixed! This is the advantage of having your landlords live next door and be awesome people. 

Other wonderful traits of our landlords: They give us a rockin deal on our rent and utilities (Not us specifically. I just mean that rent is a steal for what we get in return.). They plant great flowers and they don't mow the lawn at ridiculous hours. They are young married people like us, so they're real fun to chat with. Their laundry facilities require no quarters. They let us put whatever we want on the walls. They offer free treats to everyone sometimes for no reason. And they are constantly thinking of new projects to benefit their tenants. 

I am so glad that we don't have to live through landlord nightmares. Since Joe and I both lived at home until we moved to this apartment, I was pretty terrified of apartment living. My only experiences were vicarious and most of the people I know have had difficulty with maintenance issues in their apartments. We are so lucky (blessed) to have skipped the horror! 

I've said it before and I'll say it again: we won the landlord lottery. Wahoo!

Quote for 3 June 2014

"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."

Jiddu Krishnamurti

If our society is sick, its illness is comparison and its symptoms are chronic jealousy, excessive white lies, severe dependency on social media, and overall distorted self-perceptions. 

I see these symptoms in nearly everyone I know, including me. Chronic jealousy for what others have--perfect marriages, homes, families. Excessive white lies assuring each of us that everyone has all of those great things all of the time. Dependency on social media to check up on everyone else (and to check in with one's own story). And distorted self-perceptions? Well, they're a pretty natural result of those first three issues, especially if you throw in celebrity news and pop culture.

How could anyone be "well adjusted" to such a society? More specifically, why do so many of us succumb to the illness of comparison? I guess I could be the only one who feels surely diagnosed with this illness, but based on what I read from other bloggers, it's more of an epidemic. I'm not sure that we recognize it when it hits us. Perhaps we even desire to be well adjusted, to fit in or keep up or whatever else is required to not feel separated from the group. Society may hold high demands on its participants, but avoiding society must be far, far worse than meeting those demands...right...?

But do we need that "well adjusted" feeling enough to put our happiness on the line? Comparisons very rarely (dare I say never?) lead to happiness. Two outcomes: either you are worse than your competition, or you have managed to beat them at the game. If you are worse, you're bound to feel awful. If you have won, then you have likely made someone else feel awful. No matter who takes which role, someone always has to lose. I don't particularly want to feel well adjusted to losing situations. Call me an idealist, but I prefer the win-win mindset.

I wish I had immunity to society's illnesses, but I am, in many ways, a product of society. I have been steeped in comparisons for much of my life (hello, public school system), and despite winning more than my fair share of silent competitions, I still hate the game. I've seen the effects turn into much more severe--perhaps more diagnosable--illnesses, and it's not pretty. There is no health to be found in being "well adjusted" to this society.

Let us find our own measures of health, ones which don't require society's input quite so much.



[I mentioned in an earlier blog post that I'm working publicly through some thoughts on this topic. In my quest for immunity (am I carrying the analogy too far yet?), I'm trying to retrace the steps I've taken in the last while so that I can have a record of where I started and where I went from there. This means that there's most angst in this post than I actually feel toward this topic on 3 June 2014. But I felt this angst at one point, so here it is.]