dear dears,

dear Smash,

i thought maybe you could work it for one season.

but five episodes in you've let me down.

i really wanted to like you.

oh well.

dear physical therapists,

why can't all doctors be as nice to visit as you? 

dear boy in the waiting room,

i liked your shoes...and your face. 

but i can guarantee you're too athletic 

and it'd never work.

dear gilmore girls,

how did you manage to make an entire seven season soundtrack out of la, la, la

without me realizing it?

dear love,

you are real aren't you?

dear people with broken hearts,

love is real. 

just takes some time and effort.

p.s.

i mean, that's what it seems like from what i've seen/read on magical married people blogs.

dear sitcoms, 

is there anyway to create conflict without people lying to each other/cheating?

just wondering.

dear hair,

you're great.

dear karaoke at applebee's,

thank you for an excuse to shake my hips again in public

dear new/really old that are new again friends,

thank you for being willing to be seen with someone shaking their hips in public.

dear new new friend,

it's like we are friend-dating. i drive you home and we sit in the car and talk about life. 

you want to see hunger games with me and i want to do everything together, 

but i am scared to get too close because i know i am leaving soon.

dear flannel shirts,

you and i have a love affair that will never end.

dear people who hug,

i like you guys.

dear nighttime subconscious,

you've been absolutely incredible lately, 

a series of dreams with a backdrop of war where we are talking about filmmaking? 

where did that come from?

also, last night was just lovely. 

i really should sleep more.

dear mtc,

did i really just apply for a job without actually talking to single person?

p.s.

hire me, please.

i have no idea why i want this so badly, 

but i have never been so nervous in my life applying for anything.

dear the big year,
i liked you because you were funny and simple and heartwarming
and well casted with our favorite people
and *gasp* rated PG
and even if it was obvious your message was so good.

dear owen wilson,
i like that you exist.
p.s.
i might like even more that your brother exists.

sometimes...

I watch guilty pleasures like Taylor Swift music videos. And I actually just checked my phone in my pocket so it didn't accidentally call someone who would hear what I was listening too. guilty. 

I'm glad it's cold outside because it is easier to look good in layers. and because it is an excuse for cuddling.

I wish I could just pay someone good money to follow me around with a boombox to 1. soundtrack my life and 2. be ready for spontaneous dance parties.

I love discovering unexpected movie gems like there's an indie film called Expiration Date that I just adore, I bought it at a screening at BYU, who knows what end it came to.

I feel like a 5 year-old when I wake up...pretty much until I go back to bed. because there's no where i'd rather be than disneyland or jumping around in the grass barefoot. when I'm in college and I am threatened to be put in time-out. when i still get excited about having fruit snacks in the house. or when (2 hours ago) I bought goldfish crackers because it was the one thing I was craving. when I  would rather eat chicken nuggets than a steak. when my mom is concerned about letting me dress myself. when watching jurassic park still scares me. so, not sometimes. always on this one.

I feel like it's one of the world's great injustices when someone eats your leftovers without permission.

I write a blog post and realize that there's a small chance I am not as clever as I think I am.

I feel inspired to be a better person whenever I am around my mom.

progress.

Being sick is so horrendous, but there is something awesome about once you feel better again. Yesterday I put on something besides sweat pants/leggings and a hoodie and I can sit again, hallelujah! Which makes my productivity level go up leaps and bounds from where I've been even though I'm still dead tired and fall asleep on the couch frequently. You know you've looked pretty terrible for two weeks when putting on jeans and a plaid shirt and doing something with your hair makes your parents go, "you look so good!" especially coming from my dad. "I don't know if you should go over there looking that good." haha.

I know I shouldn't complain when there are people going through chemo and transfusion or have diabetes or are having babies. The things I am dealing with are a brief period of time. But they keep happening, one after the other. In an awful chain of events. I am so tired of being poked with needles and cut up and the seemingly never ending tiredness. Tired of painkillers. Tired of random parts of my body being numb/swollen/falling off. It should be all over now, got my stitches out a couple days ago, got my cavity filled a couple hours ago. I never know if when you're leaving the dentist you should say, "Thank you." or "I hate you." The antibiotics I got for my surgery is making all my skin on my hands fall off so now we know what causes that.

I think we can call all of this progress really.

Back to positive I have enjoyed the past 30 hours (minus the filling) because today was SO lovely and Spring-like outside and last night was freezing but I love driving home late at night with no other cars on the road and the smell of Oregon at night. Even though I am stoked to get back to Provo where I belong, I just adore Oregon. I wish I still had a dog. But my little brother is super cool. I even got out of the house and even though it pains me to hang out with people who don't appreciate Madonna like I do, I still had a good time. I don't know if I need to tell you this, but DON'T watch Tower Heist. Though it is almost a cute blend between Ocean's 11 and Ferris Bueller's Day Off (mostly because there is a nice car that gets destroyed and a parade) I'd rather have that hour 44 minutes back. I also saw ADA used to be UTLEY, my favorite veteran ever. She's been in Japan for 3 years with the marines and I've been in Italy for 1.5 years basically like being in the army and we both are confused by big streets and cars, yay!

All it takes is one good day to make up for a handful of lame ones.

And once I have feeling in my face again (aside: I have to wonder what it'd be like to kiss someone with a half numb face) I will be eating eggs and chocolate chip pancakes and enjoying my weekly date with NBC.

casimir pulaski day

Today is Casimir Pulaski Day. Why does anyone outside of Illinoise care?

because of this song:

This is one of the few songs that I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing the first time I heard it. Would you care to know? Okay, I'll tell you. 

TMA 102 with Tom Russell aka Intro to Film, a class taught in a huge theater. I told my friend Tyler what a great class it was and so he decided to come with me that day. My section always sat in the back middle. The topic for the day was Religion and Film. It changed my life. We watched a scene from Signs. Tom played this song and talked about our relationship with God. How sometimes he does take and take and take. Tom talked about his wife who also died from cancer. At some point during the song I got all teary eyed and Tyler did that thing he would always do--like a hug/face grab with my hair ending up all in his face. We just sat there in awe, a million new realizations going through my head, all because of one song. I love music for its ability to do that. Then we went and got Jamba Juice.

It was one of those moments, and there have been many, where I felt the pull towards film making. Not like, "this is fun" but like, "I don't know why, but this must be a part of my life." After that there is no going back. Like, maybe, just maybe, I might have something worth saying/creating/telling.

A few years ago with the never-ending inspiration that flows when E. and I are together we celebrated this holiday/song the best way we knew how...song shot.

One thing I learned recently, especially on my mission, is that he does take and take, but He gives it all back and then some. Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven. 


Today I've listened to the song no less than five times, did spend the morning crying in the bathroom, but that's not a story worth telling. We'll see what other kind of things I can dig up to celebrate.

Maybe, a revolution to celebrate the man who the day is named for. I did just write one of my classic, political I'm Mad About Something and Going to Sing About it to a Song That's Already Written. 

life.

"the only way to be happy is to love. Unless you love, life will flash by." -The Tree of Life


Just watched this movie and I really liked it. I thought parts of it were overwhelmingly gorgeous. I want to be swallowed up in it and fall asleep to the creation of this wonderful place we live. Aren't we lucky? Also, I loved: "he's in God's hands now." "he always was..."

God is a real part of our lives it's nice when He doesn't get written out of everything.

I almost stopped watching halfway through, not because it wasn't mesmerizing but because it touched on something that I am terrified of--and not just that freaky swimming snake.

I love the 50s...absolutely love the dresses, the style, the Life magazines, the ads, etc. But nothing bothers me more than the 50s housewife image-- the idea of not having a voice, of being controlled by another person. Yeah, I'm kind of a feminist hippy. Mostly I just hate/get so uncomfortable around scary dads/husbands. I don't think anyone should be scared in their own home ever, the world is scary enough outside. But 50s or 2010s it's happening everywhere all around us.

I'm grateful that I've been taught my whole life that I matter. That I've held leadership positions and been able to have opinions. Someday I'll get married and I'll be happy to have a husband who leads the household and hopefully respectful children, but no yelling, no fighting. Which I guess is something I should work on...because I kind of enjoy it.

I will never forget my professor who told me to "have an opinion dammit.[in a loving way]" And I hope my kids grow up the same way, with opinions. That they are thinkers, explorers and unrestrained creators...hopefully they can do that without being total terrors.

Sometimes my dream job is to go around empowering young women (not saying women are always the victim, we can be mean too) and telling them, us, all of us. That we matter.

Of all the crazy, beautiful, breath-taking creations around us we are the most precious to our Heavenly Father. And he created us to be vibrant, passionate, decision making human beings.

I shared the italicized part of this quote in my talk on Sunday:

"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no 'ordinary' people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilisations -- these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whome we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit -- immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously -- no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner -- no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment."

--C. S. Lewis, From The Weight of Glory.

Do you have any idea who you are?

Road to recovery

Well, these past few days have been awful and I've been a big baby about it but it turns out not being able to sit is a little funny but mostly awful. I feel like a slug. And I keep getting ideas I want to write but my shoulders get tired when I try and prop myself up at my laptop (ghetto laptop, with the ghetto plug that just shocked me--I'm typing this on my phone). And my appetite has been going bipolar on me.

There. I'm not always optimistic. Meanwhile, I am trying to deal with the post mission floundering, setting things in order for my return to Ptown while having flashbacks to ancient cities every time I close my eyes. And I'm trying to make the most of my time at home because who knows if I'll ever be home like this again. I just want to enjoy being with my family but instead I'm all grumpy because, here's a secret, I really, really hate being sick. I somehow after all that happened on my mission still haven't learned this one. I hate feeling useless. I hate not contributing to something...even though I managed to speak at stake conference, that was a small contribution.

I do really love my family here in Salem. I love my dad's sarcasm and my mom's willingness to try pintrest recipes and go and rent all the movies I wanted to watch. I love that she sat by me as I laid on the floor in a random classroom at church after I spoke on Sunday at stake conference because I couldn't sit anymore. I love how my sister in law laughs at everything and how nice my brother is to her. I like that Will watches everything with me and Caleb is not afraid to tell me I have a problem when he sees me watching Taylor Swift music videos and that he let me tackle him into the snow "because I'm a girl". I love my aunt Sybil and her beautiful children that have always been our best friends. I love Katie and Char and baby Molly.

Etc. Etc. I just turned complaining into a gratitude rant...I can't do anything right.

Update.

Last painkillers I took were sixteen hours ago and I feel awesome. Still sore, but in an awesome sort of way. I am owning this recovery.

But...I still am supposed to stay laying down all day. Which stinks.

i just remembered one of my favorite songs before the mission.

and this awesome valentine i got last year.

i've always felt lucky to have great people in my life.
thank you, all of you.


there are some of you i am absolutely dying to see.

2day.

"there's no chance to fail if you never give up." 
-lovely, still 
(i recommend it if you want a film about nothing but love in it's simplest form...and if you want to be emotionally compromised)


so sandwiched between an episode of glee and an episode of parks & rec + pain killers = what's my name again?


also watched Life in a Day. Good. Not that I ever want to see anyone give birth ever. But it was good.
Good is such a good word.

Post surgery.

Wow. These pain killers are real good. When I got my wisdom teeth out I hated it because they made me sleepy and grouchy.

Instead of waking up from pain I wake up and am like, let's party!!

Too bad I'm not even supposed to walk around for two days. And that feeling really only last ten minutes before I pass out again.

But it went well and all the nurses were super nice to me. And my mom and family are super nice to me. And my ice pack is super nice to me.

And that's ten minutes so I'm out again.