Sensory Overload

I'm kind of at a loss for words right now, yet felt the need all day to blog. Sometimes I don't know why I even bother blogging anymore because I write in my journal every day. But then sometimes I think maybe someone might be interested in some piece of information I post up here. They're not going to get anything from my journal, that's for sure.

This past weekend my church held General Conference. I looked forward to it more this time than I ever have. And I think I enjoyed it more than I ever have before, too. I felt spiritually fed and so uplifted. I was a little sad when it was over, but am looking forward to being able to read the talks again in the Ensign next month. There were so many good talks given that it'd be difficult to recap any of them individually or collectively. Justice wouldn't be done anyway.

I thought a lot about the last year's General Conference in April and also about Easter last year. It was interesting that both fell in the same weekend this year. This year, as we did last year, my parents and I went to my grandparents' house. Coley was with us last year and that was the last General Conference that we got to "attend" together. (I used the quotes because we watched it on TV and it seems like a half-truth to say that we went somewhere for it, when we sat on the couch.) That was also the last time that he saw our maternal grandparents. I tried not to think about how sad it was to leave. It was odd to think that, simply because they're not exactly young, it couild be the last time that he got to see them. I'm not trying to be morbid and I would absolutely hate for that to be the case, but it's a possibility and I think about those things. (I blame my dad and the "Be prepared" motto that he drilled into my head, being the good Boy Scout that he is.) I am happy to say that the grandparents are doing well. They haven't changed much since he left and I hope that we keep it that way.

Easter fell the next weekend, which we spent in Park City. Four days, to be exact, before he entered the MTC. It was cold and just plain weird. At some point during that trip, I realized that I've never been to Utah and not cried or experienced something traumatic. Granted, the other times were far from worth it. I doubt I could forget that trip, though, whether or not I had the detailed memory that I am blessed (or cursed, sometimes) with.

It's crazy to me that we're fast approaching Coley's one year mark. In some ways, I never thought this day would come. And I think I'll feel the same a year from now when we're days away from him being home. As I read his e-mail to my parents tonight, I couldn't hold back the tears. And, for the record, it's been a pretty long time since I've cried at one of his e-mails. Those tears were a result of many emotions. I'm proud of him and the things that he's accomplished, especially over the last year. I miss his jokes and the way he makes me laugh and even the way he makes fun of me.

I guess those aren't really the things that cause tears, though. What got to me, I think, was the news that he's been transferred to a new area and will be getting a brand new missionary, straight from the states, to train on Wednesday. I am certain that he is more than capable of being a great example to his new companion, but I could sense the nervous tone in his e-mail. He's always telling us how he doesn't like change, but knows that this is when he'll learn to deal with it. Even so, it doesn't sound as though it's getting any easier for him to take. And combining a new area and a new companion and the responsibility of training is probably weighing on him. I've always enabled him and it's been a long running joke in our family. I can't do that now. And, more upsetting than the lack of enabling that I'm allowed to do, I can't tell him rightthisminute that he'll be fine and that he can do this. He also mentioned that he got sick this past week, too. For some reason, it really bothers me to hear that he's been sick. Thank goodness he's been very lucky and hasn't been sick that often.

He had some funny stories, too. Ones that made me realize how well he's gotten to know people in his area over the last four months. He mentioned that he was sad to be leaving the area that he was in and that other members were sad to see him go, too. Surprise, surprise. They fell under the Coley Spell! It's the funny or silly things that are somewhat anti-climactic for me. Few people, outside my family, know Coley as well as I do. And I think that in a lot of ways, you have to know him to understand why and how things that he says are funny. I love to share things about him, but telling my parents something that they've already read isn't as exciting and telling those who don't know how he is just isn't as fun.

I have no idea where I'm going with any of this. Or maybe I do and I'm realizing that this isn't the right place for it... It's a good thing I don't get paid to do this. I'd be fired.

Slip & Fall

I've lived in my apartment for four and a half years. I have come close to falling on the stairs a couple of times and those have been some pretty close calls. I have actually fallen twice. The first time I blogged about, more so because it was funny and I felt sort of stupid. The second time I feel I should blog about because, well, I feel like it.

I took the morning off to go to the dentist. I got to sleep in, worked on some laundry and had plans to do a few other things afterward before heading in to work. On my way down the stairs (approximately 4 or 5 steps from the bottom), I managed to slip and fell down to the bottom. I'm not sure if it was my feet hitting every step on the way down, in attempt to catch myself, or my tailbone, but my tailbone took the brunt of things.

I was able to call my mom to tell her what happened, though I'm pretty sure that she did not realize it was me on the phone immediately. I have no idea how long I sat on that bottom step either. I think I was in shock. I tried to get out to my car to actually continue with my day, but almost passed out in the parking lot.

How a maintenence man was the only person to pass by me during all of this, I don't know. He didn't stop, but I doubt I looked like I was actually in distress. I probably looked like an idiot sitting on the bottom step. It was also a painful reminder that I live alone and know no one in my complex and my parents are an hour away. But thank goodness they're an hour away.

My mom got my dad to come check on me and inevitably take me to the doctor so that I could get an x-ray. Never in my life have I had anything x-rayed. Until today! Amazingly, nothing is broken, but I am in more pain than I've ever been in in my life. My dad was so kind as to point out that I'll probably never feel pain like this again... until I have a baby. Awesome. And now that has been put on an even more indefinite hold.

Thank heavens one of my good friends is a CMA at an urgent care and was nice enough to get me right in. I don't exactly know how I would've endured going somewhere else or to the ER. It was hard enough standing for the hour that I was at her office. Sitting hurts the worst, but laying down isn't that comfortable either. Standing was the most tolerable, but even that is getting harder. I'm not sure how I'm going to go back to work on Thursday. It will be very interesting, I guess.

From what I hear, this hurts for a pretty long time. I'm sort of hoping to be a medical miracle and be healed by tomorrow. I wonder what the odds of that really are...

E-mail Fail

Mondays are a big deal in my family. It's the one day that we get to hear from my brother. I've gotten myself into a pretty good routine when it comes to writing him. I hand-write him a letter on Sundays (occassionally it doesn't happen until later in the week, but I've done really well the past few months) and on Mondays, when I get to work, I e-mail him. Every week.

Today was no different, even though I'm pretty busy at work right now. I could've e-mailed him last night when I got home, but it was late and I had just finished the hand-written letter and felt like I'd end up writing about the same things. So I waited and just did my normal thing.

I got to work, wrote the e-mail, and clicked send. I patiently waited until the afternoon and periodically checked my e-mail to see if I'd gotten a response. When I noticed that I had one, I decided that I'd wait until I got home to read it. I just wanted to build the suspense a little. I like to do that to myself from time to time.

I got home a little while ago and opened my e-mail only to see in the first line of Coley's e-mail that he didn't receive an e-mail from me this week. I almost started crying right then. I didn't even read any further, I just went to my sent and draft folders to see what the problem was. I know that I wrote it, but at that moment I couldn't even remember what I had written!

I still don't know what happened, but what I do know is that AOL is on notice. This better NEVER happen again. I'm hoping that it's just floating around in cyberspace and gets pushed through eventually. I doubt that it's going to happen, but one can hope, right? To be honest, part of my anger is because it really messes up the book that I'm making for him. I mean, now an entire e-mail that I wrote intentionally is lost and I had to attempt to re-create it. It's like it's no longer genuine. I mean, I'll get over it. Maybe. But not today.

And if you're wondering, yes, I did cry. Right after I re-wrote him. I know he doesn't feel this way, but I feel like I let him down. Maybe this is what I get for making fun of my parents all those months ago for not sending him anything. They didn't do it intentionally, they just both thought the other had written him and it turns out that neither of them had a chance. My mom was a wreck for weeks. That'll probably be me this week.

P.S. I should also probably get out of the habit of even thinking the phrase "this is what I get for..." It's not healthy.

Out With The Old

On the eve of my 28th birthday, I can't help but reflect on the past year. I've experiences some high highs and lows lower than I ever thought possible. I will certainly look back on the year I was 27 with great fondness, but I'm just now (yes, 3 hours before I was forced to) ready to leave 27 behind. I'm fairly certain that I will remember more good times from being 27 than not-so-good times.

To this point in my life, it has been my favorite age to be. I can only hope that 28 is even better. I know that I have every intention of trying to achieve that. Things happen for a reason. Of that, I am certain. The reason that they happen, though, I may never know. All I can do is appreciate the experience. And I do. I just may not always show it. That's something I'll be working on.

I certainly can't complain. I have fantastic parents and a brother so fun that people have actually asked if I'd trade with them. I have a good job, I'm healthy, I have great friends, and I a stronger testimony than I ever have before. I may not have EVERYTHING that I thought I would or that I want right this minute, but I'm in a decent place. I'm realizing that what I do have is what I'm supposed to have right now. The other things will fall in to place when they're supposed to.

So here's to... well, me. :-)

Olympics

A few weeks ago, as the world was preparing for the opening ceremony of the Olympics, I was curious as to whether I would get as hooked on these winter games as I did the summer games in 2008. I was a little worried because I remember how late I would stay up to watch different events. I, for really the first time in my life, just had to watch.

I watched the opening ceremony, though not the entire thing, and then figured that I'd watch throughout the weekend since I didn't have much going on. As it turns out, I didn't bother to turn on the games until late that Saturday night when I was getting ready to go to bed. Sunday rolled around and my parents surprised me by bringing chili to my place after church. No more than five minutes after getting to my place, my dad said "Um... I need to be watching the olympics." Excuse me!

It just so happened that there was a women's hockey game on (USA and Canada, if that sort of detail is important to you) and after a few minutes of watching, I found myself wondering when we could possibly see some beach volley ball. Now, I'm aware that beach volley ball isn't a winter sport. And I think it was at that moment that I realized that these games weren't going to be as important to me as the summer games were. I think in my heart of hearts, I'm tired of cold weather and being cold and, even though it's probably 40 degrees warmer here than in Vancouver, I don't really want to watch other people be cold.

Don't get me wrong, I haven't completely boycotted the olympics altogether. I've watched a little bit here and there and I keep up with the medal counts and read the big stories online. My dad might call me a communist (since my brother, who has done so in the past, probably wouldn't think about doing it since he's a missionary and all) if I didn't watch sometimes or at least turn it on when he calls me and says "Are you watching it?" as soon as I answer. Obviously he is completely into it. In fact, he keeps asking my mom if she thinks he's too old to compete in the next games in whatever sport happens to be on. Mostly luge, skeleton, speed and figure skating. Last weekend, after watching the men's speed skating, my dad came in from the garage wearing a helmet and sunglasses and swinging his arms like he was skating around the house. I think that was his first official work out.

If anything, what little I've seen has made me want to at least try skiing or snowboarding. Shocking, right? I'll probably break something important, like my face, but at least I could say that I made an effort. That attempt will probably have to be made at the beginning of the winter season, though. Not late February, when I'm dying to be back in shorts and a t-shirt.

Chick Flicks

A couple of years ago, for reasons that I will never know, my brother decided to read The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. What can I say? He may be big and tough on the outside, but he's a real softy on the inside. I remember Coley reading these books and saying outloud things like "Come on, Nick. Fix this! You're killing me here!" He wanted nothing more than for things to resolve themselves, perhaps a little more quickly than the author had in mind. (I think I also have to say that he did NOT shed a tear while reading these books.)

Shortly after he read these books, I made a New Year's Resolution to read more and he suggested that I read them. I had yet to see the movie, The Notebook, so I figured it couldn't hurt to read the book first and then I would watch the movie. I'm pretty sure that the first time I ever cried while reading a book was toward the end of The Notebook. But to say that I only cried would be an understatement. I bawled. And I bawled at the end of The Wedding, too.

I was sorely disappointed when I watched the movie. I was actually more than disappointed; I was pissed. The movie was not the sappy love story that the book was and that I wanted so badly to see played out on my television. It has taken me a long time to come to like the movie, but it isn't a favorite by any stretch. I like it a little more every time I see it, which is probably why I have to at least have it on in the background every time I see it in my on-screen guide. It's as though I'm forcing myself to like it. I feel less feminine when I have to tell someone that I don't looooove that movie and cry my eyes out (like I do during P.S. I Love You) every time I see it. I'm a little afraid someone is going to start revoking my sassy high-heel shoes one pair at a time.

Dear John is now in theaters. I wanted to see the movie, but also wanted to read the book. Before I could read the book, as I would normally do before seeing a movie made from a book, Kevin asked me if I wanted to see the movie. I decided that I'd put the cart before the horse this time, so we saw it last night. After leaving the theater, I thought that maybe this is the way to handle the whole book-to-movie situation where Nicholas is concerned. If this transition is anything like that of The Notebook, the two could be just different enough to make them both equally enjoyable. So we'll see how it goes. Now I just need to get my hands on a copy of the book. Surprisingly enough, Coley doesn't have it.

On a sort of related note, our "date" was actually a double feature. We saw Valentine's Day first. It was really good and will most likely be added to my DVD collection as soon as it is released. As we stood in line before the movie, we discussed the casting and talked about the last movie that we both remember seeing with so many big names in it. The movie that came to mind was He's Just Not That Into You. We agreed that, even with the cast, the movie was less than stellar. I'm pretty well convinced that Valentine's Day was 10 times better simply because Scarlett Johansson wasn't in it. The main reason for that being, of all the story lines going on, none called for a homewrecker.

Roses Are Red, Jake Is A Goof

I started writing about The Bachelor last week, but ended up hating what I wrote and deleted it all. After the last episode, this is where I'm at:

- I'm shocked that Ali left, but thought her big production was a bit stupid. And anti-climactic, considering that the previews all boasted that "for the first time in Bachelor history (a actual first, not just a teaser to suck people in), there would be no rose ceremony." After her big confession about her job, one could easily conclude that she was going home. Or that he was going to pick her on the spot and send the remaining three packing. Pronto. AS IF the producers would've let that happen...

- What is Gia still doing there? I like to hope that she would've gone home had Ali decided to stay. She just gets on my nerves and I think he just likes to make out with her so that later on he can brag to his pilot friends that he made out with a model. A needy one.

- At this point, Tenley is my front-runner. And I think that they'd like you to believe that she's Jake's also, since he asked her dad if he could marry his daughter. She was the only one that he did that for during the hometown dates, that they showed us anyway. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed that all the rumors and spoilers I've heard are wrong.

- I don't even know what to say about Vienna, other than that she's a hot mess. She's just too much ground to even begin to cover and I still don't understand what he sees in her. I imagine that if Rozlyn hadn't hooked up with a staffer, she'd probably have made it to this point too. And I might have given up on the show altogether.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am NEVER going on that show. I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than to deal with any of that. I'm probably not interesting enough to even make it on the show, but I certainly wouldn't be able to bring myself to beg for someone's attention and I doubt the love-it-or-leave-it attitude would get me very far. I probably wouldn't even be able to be the bachelorette sifting through 25 guys to find "the one." Thanks, but no thanks.

Unfortunately, I'm hooked for now. Thank goodness there are only three more episodes. How does this happen to me every single season?! Oh, that's right. I have no self-control! ;-)