Wispy Ideas

It's the end of semester (there is less than a week of school left before finals. CRAZY!), all my projects are due in the next few days (and most all of them have a long way to go), I have to figure out work and other adult stuff, and I am stressed out of my mind because, while I can see how things can work out, I don't see how I'll be able to make that happen. And I won't. Not alone, at least.

So that's where I am right now. Naturally, I'm finding this the perfect time to clean the apartment (instead of writing one of two large essays due next week or studying for the last couple of exams I have before finals), convincing myself that reading a novel is actually a bad thing to do in this situation, listening to French music that I'm growing to love a lot, and write a blog post.

There are a lot of times lately where I've almost opened my computer to write and have instead gone and been responsible. Plus, these thoughts that have been floating around haven't been long enough to write a full blog post about them. So I'm putting them here and maybe they'll eventually sprout into a full-grown post. Maybe not.

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I had to get stitches last Friday because I was involved in a freak accident involving a kitchen knife (actually, I was doing dishes and tried to stop a knife from falling off the counter). Don't get in a fight with a knife. The knife will win.

As a result of the stitches I am no longer able to submerge my hand in water for an extended period of time. I have solved that problem with yellow cleaning gloves. Oddly enough, I really like the way my hands look in them, but I hate the way they smell after I take them off. But it's better than making my stitches go crazy.

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The weather has been beautiful lately. I rolled up my jeans today and wore a blousy shirt and flip flops. It was lovely. I'm ready for summer.

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I'm really excited to have my own home someday. My home is going to have lots of windows. And pictures. But it's going to be bright, airy, and lovely.

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The above song is my favorite song right now. It's adorable and the beginning sounds A LOT like this song here. I think it's okay though because they're from two different countries in two different languages. And the messages are completely opposite from each other.

Anyways, listening to that song (the French one) while wearing my happy outfit (as mentioned above) makes me feel so. . . content. And that is a good thing to be. You know? Life is good. It's quite lovely, actually.

Quite lovely indeed.

Beauty

Everyone has songs that resonate with them and will always bring back memories and sweep them away in beauty. This song below is one of those for me.

When I was in junior high or high school my parents got this CD called "Classical Romance." This CD is one of the most beautiful things ever created (it's a bunch of songs--operatic, broadway, or other--that are sung by famous opera stars. It sounds snotty and weird and I thought that right up until I listened to it. And then I fell in love.). The most beautiful song on that CD was the one above, Nella Fantasia.

I don't know if my family was going through a hard time and this song just spoke to us or if there is something in this song that just speaks to the soul. Either way, I remember my mom requesting that this song be played on repeat in the kitchen and she would just sit on a bucket and listen. It was a beautiful picture. This also happened to be the only song she would crank up the volume for in the car. This song is special. And I will always love it.

I also love The Piano Guys. They just posted a new video and I clicked on the link while I was doing homework. As soon as the music started playing I stopped. And listened. And cried.

When The Piano Guys do covers they combine two different songs to create something beautiful and unique. I love it. In the song below they combined Nella Fantasia and one of my favorite hymns, How Great Thou Art. And it became something beautiful and unique and memorable. Music is powerful.

While you're listening, if you don't want to see the beautiful scenery of Brazil, you can read the lyrics to How Great Thou Art. I think they add a lot to the song.

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,

Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,

Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,

And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.

When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur

And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;

Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;

That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,

He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,

And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.

Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,

And then proclaim: My God, how great Thou art!

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

I am so grateful for music and the testimony it can bear. I know that my Redeemer lives and that he died for me. God really is great. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Thanks in Advance

Tonight I bought myself flowers:

You see, flowers make me really ridiculously happy and I love getting them. In fact, it kind of makes my day because it makes me feel so loved and special. They're also beautiful and happy and all sorts of wonderful.

I recognize that buying flowers for myself is a bit unconventional and, in the eyes of some, sad, but I want to let you in on a secret: my future husband doesn't know me yet. He doesn't know that I've wanted flowers lately. So I bought them for myself in place of him.

So I would just like to say thanks in advance, darling. The flowers were lovely.

Guys, Brains Are Important

Brains are important and I shouldn't be allowed to go out of the house when mine is out of commission. I especially shouldn't do anything requiring competence. . . That usually ends up going poorly for me. Take today for example!

I woke up sick. My head felt like my brain was hiding in a corner just out of reach and that an angry construction worker was going to town with a jackhammer in my skull. And then, of course, my skin didn't want ANYTHING touching it which was difficult because I had to go be a real person today. Well, kind of.

I made it to my English class on time and I even did my French homework before class. However, by the time French rolled around I knew I would be useless in the class. I sent my homework with a classmate and meandered home. I knew I needed to rest up before taking on my French test I had later tonight.

Well I slept until my phone woke me up and then I decided that then was as good a time as any to take the test (as illnesses usually get worse, not better, as evening approaches). I dragged myself out of the apartment, hated the warmth of the sun on my sensitive skin the entire walk up, and considered laying down on the hill leading up to campus (I'm dramatic when I don't feel well, guys).

Anyways, I made it to the testing center, signed up for my test, and walked in to brave the inevitable storm looming ahead.

Something unique about the Humanities testing center is that you trade your BYU ID card for scratch paper and you get your ID card after you're done with your test. As I was waiting to get my scratch paper stamped I noticed that my phone was sitting on the table next to my ID card. I grabbed my phone and put it with the rest of my stuff before sitting down to take my test.

Forty minutes later a girl was missing her phone. Remember that my brain isn't working properly (and that I'm directing all of my smarts toward the test) before judging me on my next actions.

I realized that the phone I had grabbed earlier may not have been mine, but I wasn't sure if I was allowed to leave my desk while I was taking a test. I figured I would just check the phone after I was done and see if I'd mistakenly grabbed someone else's phone under the impression that it was my own.

Well the situation escalated over the next forty-five minutes. I finished my exam a few minutes after the campus police showed up. I exchanged my scratch paper for my ID and went over to my things. There, on top of my backpack was a phone that was the same model as mine, but in a different phone case. I then remembered that I had silenced my phone and put it in my backpack just before walking into the testing center.

With a good dose of embarrassment I walked over to the desk with the testing center people and the policeman with the phone. I told them, "I thought this was my phone and it's not. I am so sorry."

They thanked me for returning it and assured me that it was fine when I asked if I'd caused a problem (I obviously had, but they were too nice to tell me so).

And THAT, my dear friends, is the "brain" with which I took one of the most challenging tests of my life. Brains are important, everyone. Brains are important.

Cravings

Today at work I thought all I needed was chocolate. In actuality, I was craving this coffeecake. I made it this evening and it was perfect. So. . . Here is the recipe to the best coffeecake you will ever have. You're welcome :)

Coffeecake

Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup salad oil (I used canola)
• 1 beaten egg
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1 1/2 cups sifted flour
• 3/4 cups sugar
• 2 tsp. baking powder
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 cup raisins (opt)
• 1 tsp. vanilla (opt)

Topping:

• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 1 Tbsp. flour
• 1 tsp. cinnamon
• 1 Tbsp. melted butter
• 1/2 cup broken nuts

Combine oil, egg, and milk. Sift dry ingredients; add to milk mixture; mix well. Pour into greased 9x9x2-inch pan. For topping. combine the brown sugar, 1 Tbsp. flour, cinnamon, and melted butter and nuts and sprinkle over batter. Bake at 375˚ for about 25 minutes or until done. Serve warm

Let me know what you think!

True Story

I want to do anything--let me emphasize that last word:

ANYTHING*

Other than write this paper right now.

Even cry. Crying sounds like an acceptable thing to do right now. In the library. . . Surrounded by a bunch of strangers. . . Yep. Sounds like a good life decision.

Sometimes school is hard.

*(This excludes wanting to murder anyone or steal or create a war or die or any number of other things that would normally fall under the category of "anything." Sorry to disappoint)

Another Snapshot

It was my Sophomore year of high school and I was walking to the front doors with my best friend so we could go home. I ran into my friend Nick. He had another guy with him. Apparently they were friends.

I introduced myself to Nick's friend and, after a conversation, decided that I wanted to know what his name was. He told me it was Steven.

I sometimes have a difficult time remembering people's names unless I'm able to make some sort of connection to it. I have an uncle named Steven so the thought process went something like this: I have an uncle Steven. This guy has the same color of hair as my uncle. Steven. I can remember that.

I committed to remembering his name and walked away. The next time I saw him I said, "Oh hey Steven!" I didn't really catch that it took him a moment to register that I was talking to him. I probably assumed that he didn't remember who I was. He did answer to the name, though, and we parted ways.

A few months later I was talking to Brittney about Steve. She finally broke down and told me that she had been in on a secret but felt bad about keeping it from me. Steve's name was not really Steven. It was Logan. He and Nick thought it was so funny that I was calling him the wrong name that they had decided to keep the charade up for the entire year. I was annoyed, but I decided that, even though I knew the truth, Steven (Logan) would always be Steve to me. And, if it bothered him, he would just have to tell me.

I call him Steve to this day and I still have a difficult time remembering which is his real name. I usually just refer to him as Steve-Logan if he ever comes up in conversation. Seeing as how I'm not in high school anymore and my friend group is largely different, that doesn't happen very often. So his names are buried somewhere in the recesses of my mind right next the equations used in geometry. Unused, maybe a little dusty. . . Old.

This happened years ago and I only thought about it tonight because I met a man named Steven. At least, I think his name was Steven. I don't know for certain, though. After all, I learned in high school that you never can tell with Steves.