Singing goodbye part 2

Jimmy Eat World - My Sundown Lyrics

I see it around me, I see it in everything.
I could be so much more than this.
I said my goodbye's this is my sundown.
I'm gonna be so much more than this.
With one hand high, you'll show them your progress.

You'll take your time, but no one cares.
No one cares.

I need you to show me the way from crazy.
I wanna be so much more than this.
With one hand high, you'll show them your progress.
You'll take your time, but no one cares.
With one hand high, you'll show them your progress.
You'll take your time, but no one cares.

No one cares.
I could be so much more than this.
No one cares.
I wanna be so much more than this.
No one cares.
I could be so much more than this.
No one cares.

I wanna be so much more than this.
No one cares.
I wanna be so much more than this.
No one cares.

I wanna be so much more than this.

Good goodbye lovely time.
Good goodbye tin sunshine.
Good goodbye I'll be fine.
Good goodbye, good goodnight.

Singing goodbye

"Saying Sorry"
by: Hawthorne Heights

...Just a few last hours, we gotta make this count (We gotta make this count)
We're counting backwards
Just a few last hours, we gotta make this count
We're falling forwards.

She keeps repeating (She keeps repeating)
all that she needed
She says she's right here (She says she's right here)
she seems so distant

Saying goodbye this time, the same old story
Seeing you cry, makes me feel like saying sorry

Saying sorry we're falling apart
wish we knew this from the start
Saying goodbye's the hardest part
Wish we knew this from the start

Saying goodbye this time, this time
Seeing you cry, makes me feel like saying sorry

Stretched and Pulled

I've heard of missionaries who leave offending people. Friends and family become bitter and angry because of what the missionary who just departed said and did or didn't do....

I vowed that I would try my hardest not to offend anyone before I leave.

Just before one of my friends left for his mission, he hurt my feelings. It was something very small, but I refused to write him while he was gone because of it, and I was upset with him for a long while. I eventually got over it, realized I was being stupid for being upset over something so small. My friend has matured and just came home from his mission. I'm really proud of him.

At the time that he offended me I didn't understand. How could he be so selfish, so careless? As I am preparing to leave, I realize that he was just human. He probably didn't mean to hurt my feelings. Maybe he didn't even realize that he had.

I'm not perfect. I'm human. I make mistakes, and I have been trying very hard to do what I think is best. At the same time, I have been trying to do what I think is most fun for me.

I suppose it isn't fair that I spent most of my time with my boy friend (and best friend) and not my family. They are going to miss me. I can't blame them. But my thinking has been: my family will be here when I get back; my boy friend probably won't be. I should enjoy being with him while I can.

So, I have been feeling stretched and pulled this last week or so. I want to be with Mac. I love Mac so much. I want to be with my sisters. They're a lot of fun. My parents, well, sometimes drive me up the wall, but I love my parents. I really do.

I'm sorry that I haven't spent time with everyone equally. I'm sorry if I have offended anyone because of it... or if I have offended anyone in any other way. I'm human. I'm not perfect.

Sickly's Breakdown

I feel better. I didn't think I would. I have been sick for the past couple days. Not my boy friend's fault, though I did get the cold from him.

Anyway, I thought I was feeling better this morning. Not so. I thought if I told myself that I was better I would feel energetic and I wouldn't sniffle anymore. Not so.

I have a lot of things I need to do before I leave for the MTC next week. Next week, can you believe it??!!!! I thought I could do all of those many things in one day, while, I might add, with a cold. Not so, either.

I finally broke down. In the midst of a hurricane of storage totes and tissues, I fell to the floor of my bedroom and sobbed.

My parents expect me to go to Las Vegas with them tomorrow morning. They expect me to have my stuff packed and be leave at 5am in the morning. They expect me to be be with them more when, clearly, I have nothing else better to do. They expect this... They expect that... I want to make them proud. I want to be a good missionary.

Pulling myself up onto my bed and curled into a ball and sobbed until I couldn't breath. And then I slept.

I've never had a breakdown before. I'm not sure, exactly, what one is, really. If I was to imagine a breakdown, I suppose it would be very close to what happened to me today.

Luckily I have my best friends. And I finally made the call to tell Dad that I am not going with them at 5am in the morning. I can't do it. I will have to come up to Las Vegas for Thanksgiving after that.

I feel better, though I am still very exhausted. I have no more tears left in me. Mac is my hero.

An overwhelming amount of support

I am amazed at all of the support and encouragement I have been given this past week or so. When I spoke in the Singles Ward this last Sunday a countless number of people (some I'd never even met before) came to congratulate me, tell me good luck and let me know that they will be praying for me.

I appreciate the support. I know I can use the encouragement. But right now, I don't know if I'm worthy of it. But that is me, underestimating myself again. I have a tendency to do that.

I am excited, as well as nervous, to speak this Sunday in the home ward. Even though (technically) there aren't farewells anymore, this Sunday will feel and look pretty much like a farewell. I will be speaking for most of the time. My family and friends will be there. I think my boss will even be coming. My best friends will be there. People will want to shake my hand and congratulate me. I'm planning on handing out my address.

I don't know how many people will be there, really. Nevertheless, I'm a little nervous. Dad invited a lot of people. I told people at work about it, my friends from high school, my boss.... The more people I tell about it or hear that my dad is iviting more people, the more nervous I get. But I will be able to do the same talk I did in the Singles Ward. That talk went really well. The only problem was how stiff I felt while talking. I was incredibly tense. After I finished speaking my back was aching and all of my muscles felt tight and strained. Next time I will have to stay loose; keep calm.

Again, I am just amazed at the support people have been showing me: the advice, the stories, the prayers, the smiles, the hugs, the encouragement.... Everyone has been so helpful and supportive.

I feel an urgency to do the work in Australia. At the same time, I feel kind of pressured. What if I mess up? What if I don't make all these wonderful people who are supporting me proud of me?? What if I let them down?... What if... what if... what if...

Blah.

I'll do the best I can. As long as I can have God's help, I know I will be the best missionary possible. I will try my best to make all of you proud of me. Thank you all for your support!! :)

A tornado...!

A frind of mine just left for a mission. She actually spoke in the Singles Ward this last Sunday (with me, by the way; I spoke in the Singles Ward, and it went really well). Anyway, she said, "I can't describe how I feel right now... These past few days have been the hardest, easiest, happiest, saddest, wonderful days of my life."

I bet a lot of people didn't know what she was talking about. I did. I feel the same way. I would describe my feelings like a tornado: all of these myrid of mixed emotions (happy, sad, overwelmed, anxious, excited, nervous, giggly...etc.) are swirling around each other and once in a while one specific one hits me hard, and then another one comes around and hits me, too....

BAM!-- I am so excited to go I can't keep still.

Whamey!--- I feel nervous and shy. I'm afraid to leave to go to Australia.

Whamp!--- I really love my boy friend, and I don't want him to ever let go of me.

Slap!--- I feel an urgency to go and declare the gospel. Only I can do this specific work that God has set aside for me. I HAVE to go; in fact, why am I not there already?

Thump!--- I am so nervous to leave because when I come back things will all be changed.

The wind is blowing...! The tornado is hovering over me. I'm not sure what I am going to be feeling next. I feel so confused, focused, anxious, lonely, happy... and a little hungry.

I think it's lunch time.

Finally November

It feels so good to finally be in the month of November. I never thought it would come! Waiting to go on a mission has been longer than I anticipated, but I have enjoyed the wait. I feel prepared to go. I mean, I haven't done the shopping yet, but I still feel like I am prepared to be a missionary. I am going to be a very good missionary. I just know it. I can't wait!

Dad read a talk about missionaries, and he said there are four aspects in life a person should improve in to prepare for a mission: physically, emotionally, spiritually and socially.

Physically: Stay healthy and strong for your mission
I exercise about every day, at least three times a week. I run on the tread-mill. I stretch, and I've been practicing breathing while I run. I also have been trying to eat healthier. Instead of eating chips with my sandwiches, I eat apples and carrots. I've been trying new foods and vegetables....

Emotionally: Know your weakness and how you deal with emotional stress:
Blogging has actually been very helpful. Writing in general, really. It helps me get my feelings out. And, of course, praying and knowing that I'm loved helps me deal with my emotional stress.

Spiritually: Become knowledgeable about the scriptures and strengthen your testimony
I've memorized the purpose of a missionary, D&C 4, and I've read Preach My Gospel. (I love Preach My Gospel!) I pray every day, several times a day, and I have personal scripture study and I study with my boy friend on Sundays. I am also taking Missionary Prep class for the second time.

Socially: Feel confident to talk to others
I ride the bus from Dee Events Center parking lot every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and I have this goal to meet someone new each time. It's really fun. I talk to interesting students, each with different dreams and reasons for going to school. Also, working at the Writing Center gives me a lot of confidence to talk to others.

I have prepared in other ways, too. I have the red luggage. I am more confident in my looks, and I'm not really afraid to say what I feel anymore. I've been learning to play the piano...!

Prepare, prepare, prepare!

That's what I've been doing for the past five months. It's also been fun to have this free time to hang out/ talk with friends I haven't seen in a while, try new foods, new experiences, learn to play the drums and take risks.

I feel ready for my mission. It's getting closer. I'm getting more and more excited to go! HAPPY NOVEMBER!

My boy friend...

Many believe that soon-to-be-missionaries shouldn't have a boy/girl friend. I used to feel the same way.

However, having a boy friend (in my opinion) has been the best thing for me. Our relationship is complicated. I won't lie to you. I don't think a lot of people get it. Some disaprove of the relationship; I know because they've shown me their disaproval with glares and words or otherwise.

But...

He makes me happy. He makes me smile. He makes me want to be a better person. How can that be a bad thing? "I feel beautiful," I told a friend of mine. I was trying to explain my relationship with my boy friend to her. "I can look in the mirror, and I like what I see---and it's because of him....That HAS to be a good thing."

I want to take this time to assure everyone that just because I have a boy friend does not mean I am not going to Australia. Quite oppositly: he makes me want to be the best missionary I can be; and the closer it gets to leaving, the more excited I am getting. I love the idea of Australia! I love the idea of bearing my testimony and helping others to come unto Christ....

It is going to be hard to say goodbye to my boy friend. No doubt about it. He isn't going to "wait" for me. I don't want him to, really. I don't even know if we will date when I get back. Even if we don't, I don't think I'll regret being with him right now. I love him. It's good to be in love. That's never happened to me before. It's a good experience. I've learned a lot.

So--- I have a boyfriend. And I'm not hiding it. We've been going out for a while now. We broke up for a few weeks, but we're definatly back together and loving each other's company. We won't be boy friend and girl friend for too much longer (because I'm, obviously, leaving). But I'm going to enjoy it while I can.

A friend of mine who is on a mission right now used to have a girl friend. It was hard for him to leave, but he says that it was great to be love before he went on a mission. And he says to let my boy friend encourage me and help me to become a great missionary. So, that's what I'm doing. I'm enjoying his company. I'm asking him questions, talking and laughing. I'm feeling really good about going to Australia. And I feel really good about being his girl friend....

Everything Australian

I drive down the road, and I think about what it would be like to drive the on left side of the road. I see an Outback restaurant, and I think of the Australian Outback. I watch the TV or listen to the radio and the voices seem to say the words "Australia" and "kangaroos."

Everything reminds me of Australia.

Any word that starts with "A-U" makes me, for half a second, think it is going to say "Australia." I go for a walk, and I wonder what the weather is like. Any accent makes me think about Australia slang. My mom went to Sea World, and instead of asking how Shamu was, I wanted to know if she saw any animals from Australia: sharks, jellies, crocs, etc.

The watch I'm wearing: What time is it in Australia? A whole day ahead?

The little money I have in my pocket or purse: What is Australian money like? What's the exchange?

The plug on my hair dryer: I will need an adapter, eh?

The food that I eat: What food will I be eating in Perth?

The buildings in Ogden and on campus: Perth's city lights are going to be beautiful...!

Everything! Everything! EVERYTHING--- reminds me of Australia! :)

I leave, exactly, one month from today, by the way. I'm really excited, if you couldn't tell!

Why do I have to have a farewell??

Let's me vent, please:
It's strange. We're not suppose to have farewells. I know a lot of people who don't like that rule, but I do. It is meant to take the pressure off, you know? It puts the focus of the sacrament meeting on the sacrament and the atonement (where it should be) instead of on the missionary. It's nice in theory, but people just don't seem to follow the no-farewells-rule.

I'll admit it. Perhaps one of the reasons I'm not thrilled about having a farewell is because I don't really like speaking in front of people. It's the truth. I stutter, I get nervous, and I've had really bad experiences speaking in public. But I've become a better public speaker. I'm not really nervous, except people from all over want to come hear me talk. The more people who ask when my farewell is and I have to tell them... the more nervous I get to speak. Why can't it just be my ward?

And what is the whole gathering-thing after the sacrament meeting all about? Are people expecting us, my family and I, to feed them? Why? Can't they feed themselves?

Dad says, "Have a farewell because people will give you money." Money sounds good--- I can't lie... But it seems cheap and tacky, if that is the only reason for having a farewell.

Okay. I'm done venting. Thanks.

A Sister Missionary

At church yesterday I was listening to a sacrament talk. He was an RM, and this was his "homecoming talk." Okay, I was late, so I missed a lot of it. But I came, I think, at the perfect time. The RM was talking about Sister missionaries. Mac was sitting next to me and nudged me. "That's you!" he whispered.

"Sister missionaries," the RM was saying, "are special. They can reach investigators that the Elders just don't seem to reach.... Our mission was really glad to have sister missionaries.... They were a great resource and help..."

It reminded me of a story someone once told me. I don't remember exactly how he said it, but here's an ad lib of the story:

"My companion and I," he said, "had been teaching a family for a while. The family was ready to be baptized, except for a teenage/ pre-adult girl. She had a testimony and wanted to a member of the church, but the whole chastity-thing was bothering her. It was the only thing holding her back from becoming a member of the church. She understood the concept of chastity, but couldn't understand why it would be important to keep it.... Finally, my companion called the Sister missionaries and had them talk to the girl. I watched the her listen to the the Sisters on the phone. At first, the girl seemed objective, ready to argue that there was no real reason for her to keep the law of chastity. But after listening for a few minutes, her attitude seemed to change. After hanging up the phone, the girl announced that she would be baptized and that she would live the law of chastity... I have no idea what the Sister missionaries had said to her, but my companion and I were very grateful that they had talked to her..."

After hearing that story, I remember being very frustrated and confused. I wanted to know, exactly, what the Sister missionaries had said, but the friend who told me the story, of course, did not know. As I am preparing and thinking about being a missionary, I wonder what makes Sister missionaries so special. I mean, girls don't have the priesthood, and they do not have the opportunity to be zone leaders. (I was disappointed when I found that out.)

But it seems to me---from what I've heard from others---that Sister missionaries are uniquely wonderful. They seem to be more in-tune with the spirit and the needs of the investigators than the Elders are. (Am I wrong here? Someone let me know...)

I guess I found another reason to be excited to go on a mission!... I am a wonderful person. I am going to be an awesome missionary. And--- sorry boys--- I'm gonna be better than the Elders, or at least, have a special influence or whatnot with the people I teach. It is gonna be pretty cool to be a Sister missionary. It feels good to know that I will be able to be good at what I will be doing.

I don't wanna miss a thing

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
Far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

Lying close to you
Feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

I don't wanna miss one smile
I don't wanna miss one kiss
Well, I just wanna be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time

Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
'Cause I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing

Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah
I don't wanna miss a thing

What if...?

Okay. So--- My dad is in the hospital. He had a blood clot while he was on a cruise with my mom. He's going to be fine, but it gave our whole family quite a scare--- especially me. It made me remember how unhealthy my dad is. And I've been afraid since I heard the news. We could have lost him today. I can't stop thinking about... what if my dad died while I was on my mission? I don't know if I could handle it.... Please: no one die while I'm gone.

A new passion...

Well, I guess it isn't really a new passion, per say. I've always wanted to be a drummer. Growing up, my favorite Muppets was Animal and I used to have a toy drum that I would bang on just enough to drive my sisters and parents crazy....

Story time:

In 7th grade, first year of junior high, my parents asked me if I wanted to be in band. I said, yes, but only if I could play the drums. Now, to be in percussion in 7th grade, you had to try out. Not everyone could be in percussion; only about four or five 7th graders. I took a rhythm test as well as sight reading test. I had taken piano for quite a number of years, so it wasn't anything new to me.

My parents told me that if I didn't get into percussion that they would let me choose any of the other instruments to play--- the saxophone, the flute, even the tuba if I wanted. "Oh," Dad and Mom said, practically together, "the clarinet!" (They probably seemed most enthused about the clarinet because it was the cheapest.) I only wanted to be in percussion. But, in case I didn't get in, I chose the clarinet as an alternative.

I don't play the clarinet. I made one of the percussion spots. And I practically loved everything about it! Near the end of the year, however, I got stuck with playing the triangle and marimba, and I never got to play the snare drum, which was my favorite. I was the most passive of the percussion team and I got stuck with the pieces that I didn't really want. Thus, (and for other reasons) I decided to take choir. I didn't take band again--- I now regret that, even though I made lots of good friends in choir and a few good memories. I wish I would have kept playing percussion....

I don't know what really brought it out--- but,lately, I have been thinking about playing the drums. I want to! I can't stop thinking about it. My brother-in-law has a set that he doesn't play and I found really cool free online lessons!!....

Now--- here is the question. Do I start to try playing this very second? Or do I wait until I get home from my mission?

Here is a new-ish dream: Me, home from a mission, living in a cute little apartment, (probably a cheaper one than the last one I had), near school, with a drum set to play on...! My sister and brother-in-law are selling their drum set for $800 (hoping to get that price) at Christmas time. It won't be around when I get home. But, I can find another set when I get home. I'm not worried about that.

Anyway, I just wanted you all to know about my new passion, my new dream. It's good to have a goal, something to work for, something to look forward to accomplishing--- even if I can't really get started until after my mission. Maybe it will make me want it even more.... What do you guys think??

Package from Perth?!

I got a message on the phone last night from my parents that I got a package from Perth. I wonder what it could be! I'm really excited to find out. It is at my home right now. I called Dad. So once I get home I will be able to open it and see what it is!

I got a letter last week from the MTC. It basically said to remember to get my flu shot and to stay healthy so I don't make the other missionaries sick. Isn't that nice that they are concerned for my health? I thought it was neat--- although, the reminder wasn't really needed. I was planning on getting my flu shot. I don't want to be sick, either....

But a package from Perth!--- Was it a package? Or was it just a letter? I don't remember. Either way, I'm excited to see what it is. Maybe it is a baby joey, and I am suppose to to take care of it until I get to Australia and return it to the wild!--- Or maybe it is a letter to welcome me....! The different possiblilites my imagination can create for what it could be are endles. I just can't wait to go home and find out.

Jump-back-Jack! Flashes to a past piano perfomance

I took piano lessons when I was eight years old. I wasn't the best at playing the piano, but I continued to play through junior high and a little through high school, just enough to get me through band and choir. For some reason I quit playing. I couldn't remember why--- I told people that it was because I got busy. I didn't lie. I did get busy! Life happens, you know. It's hard to make it to the piano every day.

But I remembered the other day why I initially quit playing the piano....

A little background: I have been playing the piano again. I have been playing for a few weeks now. My sister, who I am living with, is a fantastic piano player. She got a degree in Piano Pedagogy at WSU and she teaches; she has her own piano studio and everything. Anyway, she has been giving me free lessons---(they're really good! And I'm learning lots!)--- so I can play a few hymns while on my mission. Many (Mac, the RMs who went to Perth, Institute teachers, etc.) have said it is a good idea to learn some hymns to play for a mission; in fact, one of the RMs who went to Perth said if he could do it over, the one thing he would change would be to learn to play the piano. So... that's what I'm trying to do: learn a few hymns for my mission. I don't expect to be able to play all of the hymns or be the best piano player in the world--- I just want to have a few hymns under my belt so if it comes down to it (as a last resort) I will be able to play, for example, "There is a green hill far away," which I just finished memorizing and passed off to my teacher/ sister tonight.

Well, yesterday, I was practicing and my sister came in to check on me. I told her that I was doing pretty well. And then I thought it would be fun to have her sing along while I was playing... "Give me an intro," she told me. Excited to show her what I had learned, for I was getting really good, I sat up straight. But when I looked at my hands I couldn't think about the notes. And I couldn't play it for her...

Now, jump back, Jack!--- to the past. It's a Wednesday. I'm about 15 or 16. It's Mutual time, opening exercises. I had played for opening exercises before, but it was just for Young Womens. This time, it was combined, meaning there were more people. There were--- oh, do I dare think of it?!--- BOYS. (lol)

I had "We Thank thee oh, God for a prophet" memorized. I had played it more than a million times at home before I went to the stake center because I knew I was scheduled to play the opening hymn; yet, there I was, looking at my hands, everyone waiting for me to start, and I couldn't move. I felt like crying. Someone in the back coughed and then I could hear whispers. "Is she going to start? Is she waiting for something?"

I knew I had to start. The keyboard got blurry; nevertheless, I knew I had to start playing... SoMeThInG! I let my fingers go down on whatever notes they could reach first. Unfortunately, they were the wrong notes. I guessed again. Wrong. Again! Wrong. By now, I was very embarrassed. Mindy, I remember, had walked in late. I knew she could play this song, so I called her over to the bench. "I can't do it," I whispered to her. "I--- tried. I--- can't. I'm too scared." Mindy smiled and jumped onto the bench. She played and I pretended like I was going to turn the page for her, which she really didn't need, my face red the entire time....

I think THAT is why I quit piano. I have performance anxiety.

*To Be Continued....

Waiting for Something: clips from my journal

I was feeling pensive one night while writing in my actual journal. I had some interesting ideas and I thought I'd share some of them with you.

October 4, 2007

I have been thinking a lot about... my wait to go on a mission. I got my mission call (you may recall) on July 17, 2007. I thought once I got my mission call it would only be a few weeks, a month at the most, before I left. Instead, I do not leave until... the END of November. When I found out [I was going to Australia] the first day, I didn't think much about [the wait]. I was mostly thinking about Australia!--- It seemed so incredible! (It still does.) Now that I have been getting used to the idea of Australia, I realized (or, rather, am feeling) this long time before I go. It's a long time to wait, almost five months. (I mean, it's long, but its going fast at the same time... lately it feels like forever away.)

And I've been wondering--- what am I waiting for?...

I have been speculating and wondering if there is a reason for why I have to wait to be a missionary. Perhaps there are people who I need to meet so I can touch their lives, and I am waiting for them to be ready for me to make a difference in their lives. (Or visa versa) [Maybe I will be touched by certain people, and I am waiting for the timing. Maybe I am waiting for the perfect companion...]

Or maybe (and too) I am suppose to learn a valuable lesson before I go. Love? Heartache? Courage? Assertion? Strength?... Patience?... Maybe I'm waiting for the snow?...

I feel like I'm waiting for something, that's for sure. But what? I just get sick of waiting. I want to be a missionary now. Why am I not in Australia?...

There are 50 days, by the way until I go. It sounds like a lot; in fact, that is what Mac said when I told him how much longer I have. But it really isn't. I'm glad I don't have to wait too much longer. I am excited to be a missionary. At times I'm scared, nervous and I don't know if I can be a good missionary; but most the time, when I think about it, I feel excited, and I can't wait for MY turn.

easily amused

I watched the second half of General Conference with my family yesterday. (It was good! Naturally the talks and quotes that impacted me the most had to do with missionary work...)

Did you ever notice, by the way, how the prayers are so long? They're like a talk, in and of themselves. It's sometimes awkward ( I think)to wait for the prayers to end. Normally I don't have a hard time listening and waiting, but the closing prayer to the last session was particularly long.... I was listening, like normal when--- all of a sudden and from no where--- my dad's stomach gurgled really loudly.

Dad smiled, but he kept his eyes closed and his arms folded. I had to hold my breath so I would stay quiet for the rest of the prayer. I wanted to laugh out loud. I regained my seriousness for a moment and then my sister's snickered. I actually heard her suppress a laugh. Either she found Dad's loud gurgling stomach as funny as I did or her husband had done something funny. (Maybe both.) It was hard to stay serious, watching my sister (through squinted eyes because the prayer was still going on) hold her mouth so she wouldn't laugh out loud. And then, just as I thought I could listen to the prayer and stop holding my breath so I wouldn't laugh out loud, the rocking chair my mom was sitting in squeeeeeaked. A "HA!" actually escaped from my mouth. And then I was appalled. I had just said "HA!" during a prayer. How disrespectful of me; yet, the more I thought about the gurgling stomach, my sister suppressed laugh, my mom's rocking chair, it all seemed funnier to me. I held my breath for the rest of the prayer, my eyes watering.

At the close of the prayer, my family was looking at me. I looked back at them through watery eyes. "What was so funny?!" my mom asked me. I tried to explain, but I was having a hard time breathing and it felt so good to finally laugh out loud....

My brother-in-law told me that there were two things that he had a hard time with on his mission. One of them was staying entertained. In this age of technology, I can see missionaries having a hard time staying entertained: no TVs, i-pods, cell phones or lap tops; no video games or movies. But after yesterday's experience I don't think I'll have a problem with staying entertained. I'm going to be a fun missionary, in fact. I'm not only going to entertain myself, but my companions and those I teach will have fun with me. And, hopefully, they will relate the happiness and enjoyment they feel with me to the spirit. And they will want to feel the spirit and enjoy life like I do.

My only concern now is how do I explain to people that I'm not crying, I'm laughing?

Faith Hill's "Like we never loved at all"

You never looked so good
as you did last night,
underneath the city lights,
there walking with your friend,
laughing at the moon.
I swear you looked right through me.
But I’m still living with your goodbye,
and you’re just going on with your life.

Chorus:
How can you just walk on by
without one tear in your eye?
Don’t you have the slightest feelings left for me?
Maybe that’s just your way
of dealing with the pain,
forgetting everything
between our rise and fall
like we never loved at all.

You, I hear you’re doing fine.
Seems like you’re doing well
as far as I can tell.
Time is leaving us behind,
(time – leaving us behind)
another week has passed
and still I haven’t laughed yet.
So tell me, what your secret is
(I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know)
to letting go, letting go like you did,
like you did.

[Chorus]

Did you forget the magic?
Did you forget the passion?
Oh, and did you ever miss me,
and long to kiss me?

Maybe that’s just your way
of dealing with the pain,
forgetting everything
between our rise and fall
like we never loved at all.

Uluru

Australia is amazing. It has so many wonders and the rest of the world seems to neglect its existence. Perhaps it is because it is so far away; or maybe it is because the island/ continent itself is so isolated. Bill Bryson says,

The fact is, of course, we pay shamefully scant attention to our dear cousins Down Under---not entirely without reason...Australia is...mostly empty and a long way away...;as an economic entity, it ranks about level with Illinois. Its sports are of little interest to us and the last television series it made that we watched with avidity was Skippy. From time to time it sends us useful things....Above all, Australia doesn't misbehave. It is stable and peaceful and good.... But even allowing this, our neglect of Australian affairs is curious. (3-4)

Even though we pay very little attention to Australia, or (to better put it) do not appreciate the country to its potential because we're so far away--- I believe each of us has always, secretly, wanted to go there. Not one of the many people who I told I am going to Australia on a mission has made a face of disgust; oppositely, in fact, everyone has been very excited for me. I can tell that some of them are jealous. Why shouldn't they be? Though overlooked at times, Australia is an amazing place. It is pretty neat, to say the least, that I get to go--- for a year and a half!

Why does the world pay so little attention to Australia? It is truly a beautiful place, and a wonder. Take, for example, Uluru, aka: Ayers Rock. "The thing about Ayers Rock," Bill Bryson says, "is that by the time you finally get there you are already sick of it. Even when you are a thousand miles from it, you can't go a day in Australia without seeing it four or five or six times---postcards, on travel agents' posters, on the cover of souvenir picture book---and as you get nearer the rock the frequency of exposure increases...." (255). Bill Bryson continues to say that even though he had seen pictures of it and even though it is, in reality, just a rock, he was---nevertheless!--- enraptured by it. He couldn't take his eyes off it.
In his own words:

And then you see it, and you are instantly transfixed....I have discussed this since with many other people, nearly all of whom were left agog in a way they could not adequately explain....It is exactly what you expected it to be.... It does feel weird. Quite apart from that initial shock of indefinable recognition, there is also the fact that Uluru is, no how you approach it, totally arresting. You cannot stop looking at it; you don't want to stop looking at it. As you draw closer, it becomes even more interesting. It is more pitted than you had imagined, less regular in shape....You realize that you could spend quite a lot of time---possibly a worryingly large amount of time; possibly a-sell-your-house-and-move-here-to-live-in-a-tent amount of time---just looking at the rock, gazing at it from many angles, never tiring of it. (256-7)

I have become accustomed to thinking about the idea of going to Australia. I sometimes feel like Bill Bryson on his way to Uluru who was sick of the rock before he even got there. I feel exhausted from talking and thinking about being a missionary and saying that I am going to Australia has become so mundane.

But when I really sit down and think about--- I mean really think about it!---I'm in awe. I'm like Bill Bryson staring at Uluru, unable to move his gaze. I cannot stop thinking about Australia: kangaroos, crocodiles, and all of its many interesting creatures; Perth's beautiful sky scrapers; its beaches, bluest of blue waters, and breathtaking sunsets....

I'm distressed that I'll be distressed

I've had several people come up to me and say, "wow, yeah!--- You're gonna experience a big culture shock when you get to Australia!"

The way they say this to me makes me feel concerned, like they don't think I will be able to adapt or understand whatever cultures I run into. I want to learn to love the people in Perth. I don't want to feel so bewildered and distressed that I cannot love the people and do the work at the best of my ability. I want to feel confident and good about living in Australia.

But I don't think culture shock is avoidable, especially for one of my blondness. Since I cannot avoid it, I have some questions that I was hoping you can help me answer:

1- How can I prepare myself for culture shock?
2- What should I do, once I am experiencing it? How do I overcome it? Will it go away with time?
3- What do you think I will see that will give me a shock? I want to know so I won't be so surprised when I see it.

Now, just as a disclaimer, I don't want any of you to think that I know nothing about Australia. I do. After all, I have my good friend Bill Bryson, I've met RMs who went to Perth on their missions, and I've watched documentaries (along with Crocodile Hunter), and I've talked to people who have been to Australia.

Quite honestly, I wouldn't be concerned about experiencing culture shock except so many of my close friends and family seem to be concerned. I can't help but feel concerned, right along with them.

Murphy is probably right, but it's good to have Bill back in my life

My sister was right. (I bet she will love to hear that. She says that her favorite thing to hear is "You were right!") I love the book In a sunburned country by Bill Bryson. I bought it and read it when I first got my mission call to go to Perth, Australia, per request of my fabulous sister.

I read it with an insatiable urge to learn all I could about Australia. (I've talked about the book several times on this blog.)

About three or four weeks ago, I misplaced my copy of Bill Bryson's book. The problem is I like to read where ever I go; I take my books with me.... everywhere, meaning this book could be ANYWHERE. I haven't found it yet. And... it's silly, but I miss it. I miss quoting it, reading it, having it with me. I get attached to the books I read and really enjoy. I especially found this book interesting and engaging, probably because I am going to Australia.

I finally broke down and bought it again. According to Murphy's law, I will probably find my lost copy. (lol) I will have TWO copies of In a sunburned country by Bill Bryson. I don't care. It's good to have Bill back in my life.

In celebration of having my Aussie book back I would like to quote something from the book:

Even without arriving fresh from an incident of criminal excitement, Perth is a cheery and welcoming place. There is first of all the delight in finding it there at all, for Perth is far and away the most remote big city on earth, closer to Singapore than to Sydney, though not actually close to either. Behind you stretches seventeen hundred miles of inert red emptiness all the way to Adelaide; before you nothing but a featureless blue sea for five thousand miles to Africa. Why 1.3 million members of a free society would choose to live in such a lonely outpost is a question always worth considering, but climate explains a lot. Perth has glorious weather, good-natured weather---the kind that sets the postman to whistling and puts a spring in the step of delivery people. Architecturally Perth has no particular distinction--- it is a large, clean, modern city: Minneapolis Down Under---but its sharp and radiant light makes it a beauty. You will never see bluer city skies or purer sunlight bouncing off skyscrapers than here. (275-6)

I think I would LOVE to meet Bill Bryson. I wonder if I will run into him on the streets of Perth somewhere, walking with a little spring in his step, whistling and admiring the city's tall sky scrapers. I am excited to go to Australia. Having this book again has reminded me how much I am. It's good to have you back, my old friend Bill Bryson! :)

In the spot light

I'm not used to being the center of attention. I've been in it before. I was in a play once, and I've sung solos for choir, church and whatnot. I do fine in the spot light... sometimes. (I've made a fool of myself a few times.) I prefer, however, not to be watched. I do better on the side lines than center stage where all eyes are on me, waiting for me to either mess up or succeed. I get nervous easily; I get embarrassed quickly. I'd much rather watch others step up to the spot light and succeed and then be there for them to congratulate them. But I have been in the spot light before, yes. And I do just fine, normally.

I've never, however, been in the spot light like I feel like I am now. It's intimidating. It's scary. It's BRIGHT. I'm afraid I'll do something stupid. I want to make everyone proud. But it is intimidating having everyone watch me... gossip about me. I don't care that people are talking about me, really. It's just--- when I find out what they are talking about, I feel like I have to correct them. "Yes, Mac and I are really close. He's kinda my boy friend--- not really any more, to tell you the truth. But what does that have to do with you thinking I'm not going on a mission?" is what I want to ask people. "There's not really a connection between them...." I am, by the way, going on a mission. Why do people think I'm not, or worry that I won't?? Do my actions give that impression??... (shrug)

Perhaps it is good that people are watching me. It's good practice for my mission. The whole world will be watching me then. I will have to be standing in the spot light the entire year and a half, letting people see what I do: what I eat, what I say, how I bear my testimony, how I treat my companion, how I'm kind to those I meet... etc. The world will be watching me. It's kind of exciting and intimadating at the same time.

LIGHTS. CAMERA. ACTION.... uhhhhh---- hi!

goo goo doll's Iris

"And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When every thing's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything seems like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know your alive

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am"

Bright Red Luggage...

I went shopping yesterday with my parents. It was good and bad. Mostly good. I was able to get temple clothes so I can go through the temple on Saturday. (I'm really, really excited to go through the temple!! I'm soooo happy I was finally able to find a day to go!!)

After we finished buying temple clothes, which took a little while--- it was hard to make a decision with Mom and Dad hovering over me, giving me lots and lots of advice. (ha ha!)I was beginning to think that I should have gone alone...--- I talked to Dad about a sale that I saw at Murvyn's for luggage. We went and took a look at them. The sale was even better than I remembered it to be: 55% off all luggage. Dad asked for a Senior discount, retired discount, military discount; looking at me he asked for a missionary discount, and any other discount he could think of. I love my dad! He makes me laugh. Even though we couldn't get a bigger discount, the 55% off was a good price, and Dad said he was happy with the purchase, not too bad of a price.

I was happy because I got BRIGHT RED LUGGAGE. It's what I've been wanting. It looks kind of like the picture below:

Buying the luggage made me think a lot about Australia...! Not only packing, etc--- which buying my luggage certainly made me think about; Mom is so cute, but I really don't think I need to buy all that much stuff, like a travel pillow that I will probably toss when I get there and a lint brush that I can probably pick up there...( ha ha!)--- I also have been thinking about the people and the country.

When we went out to eat, for lunch, the lady at the deli shoppe was from England and we were able to ask her questions about what she thought of Australia and about the money system. In England, they use pounds. In Australia, they have Aussie dollars. It was fun to talk to her and to think about Australia....! I can't wait to go.

I sit here, in my room, and look at my luggage and I think about how soon it will be for me to go! It's almost October, really. I leave in the end of November. It's coming fast. So fast that I'm buying luggage already. In my opinion, that's pretty cool. And my bright red luggage looks great!--- I'm not gonna lose those bags in air port security!

Australia slang

While google-ing today, I found a fun list of slang words from Australia. Some of them are pretty silly. I don't know if I'll hear any of them when I go, but they're still fun to read. Jasmine, one of the Perth RMs I met with last week, said she had a companion from Delaware and she would make a list of all the words that were foreign to her with their meanings so she could understand the people. I'm not really worried about not understanding the people. I'll get used to the accent, I'm sure. (Maybe I'll even pick it up.)

Anyway, here is the list I found. Now, if you want to sound Australian, you can. And you and I can talk Australian if you want. I'd like to try a couple of the fun ones out. Happy reading!

"Don't know what we are talking about, be prepared and know our slang at least you won't look like a drongo.

* Ankle Biter - small child
* Arvo- afternoon
* Back of Bourke - middle of nowhere ... also called 'beyond the black stump'
* bail out - exit leave
* Banana Bender - person who resides in Queensland
* bludger - lazy person not working
* Beaut - fantastic, wonderful, the best.
* Billy - Pot of Tea
* Bingle - motor vehicle accident
* Bizzo - business bloke - man, guy
* Blowie - Blow Fly
* Blue - fight (have a fight/blue)
* Bluey - Bluebottle jellyfish
* Bogan - unkempt slack messy person with low education
* Bonzer - fabulous, great, cool, ripper
* Bugga- bad luck, oops
* Cark it - to die
* catch ya later - Goodbye
* chick - girl, woman
* chook - chicken
* chuck a wobbly - lose ones temper
* Cozzie - swimmers (NSW ) Also Known as Togs (QLD) and Bathers (Vic, SA) depending on the State. Also can be called Budgie smugglers is the case of male speedos.
* Cobber - friend, mate
* Coo-ee - hello (outdated) can be yelled out when looking for someone in the bush or can be used as a negative adjective, e.g. There's nothing within coo-ee of here
* Croweater - A South Australian
* dead horse - tomato sauce
* dead set - genuine,
* real dob - to tell on
* Dole Bludger- person who lives of solcial security and does not make any effort to get a job
* dinky die - genuine thing
* dole - government payment to people who dont work
* Do your Block - lose your cool (temper)
* dob - to tell on
* Drongo - idiot, stupid person.
* dunno - "I don't know"
* dunny - Toilet
* Earbash - to talk non-stop
* fair dinkum - true, real, honest
* fair go - give us a break
* galah - noisy person acting like an idiot
* Good on ya - good job
* g'day - hello, have a good day
* goon - really cheap alcohol, particularly very cheap cask wine
* grog - alcoholic drinks
* have a geez - to have a look (at something)
* hicksville - outback country town
* how are ya- greeting, warm welcome
* iffy - questionable
* knackered - tired, exhausted
* hooligan, idiot or troublemaker. Generally associated with someone who commits mindless acts of violence or destruction
* larrikin- usually used in an affectionate way. A larrikin is a trouble maker, but a harmless or loveable one
* joe blake -snake
* lemon - useless faulty thing
* lob in - visit someone
* loo - toilet
* mozzies - mosquites
* muso- musician
* No worries - its not a problem.
* Oodnagalabie - very far away, isolated, see also Back of Bourke and Whoop-Whoop
* pike - to quit or back out of something you said you would do
* p*ssed - drunk
* p*ssed off - annoyed and angry
* plonk - wine (usually cheap wine)
* ratbag - idiot
* ring in - foreigner also some one not invited or that should not be there
* ripper - great, cool, fabulous
* rooted - stuffed, tired, exhausted
* Sandgroper - Person from Western Australia
* she'll be right - everything is okay
* Sheila - woman
* shonky - not to be trusted/doesn't work properly
* Spunk - good looking person, adjective = spunky
* stubbies - short work shorts for men / small bottle of beer
* take the p*ss - make fun of, ridicule
* tall poppies - successful people... Tall poppy syndrome is the desire to undercut those who are more sucessful
* thingamajig - an item or thing
* too right - i agree
* true blue - true, real
* tucka- food
* thongs- flip flops, rubber sandles (the underwear is called a g-string here)
* Hoo-Roo - Good-bye
* whinge - to moan and complain
* whoop - whoop - outback
* wowser - boring, conservative person
* yobbo - unintelligent/crude person usually male
* youse - means you (plural)
* your Shout - your turn to buy a drink"

Reflections in a mirror: a really long blog

A New Reflection:
I can't think.
I can't breath.
Tears stream
down my cheek.

Who is that
in the mirror
looking at me?

It isn't the angel,
the child I once knew.
It isn't the girl,
so predictable and shy.

She is a rebel:
careless and hopeless;
tearful and less careful.

I want the old me.
I want to change
A Lot of things.

How can I turn back time?
Why can't I change this one thing?

This reflection is new.
Who is that in the mirror?

Right now
It frightens me...
embarrasses me...
to look and not see
that the girl is just me.
(April 26, 2007)

I see myself differently than others. I get that. This week I realized how much people are watching me. And they, most likely, are drawing conclusions and judgments about who I am. Normally I wouldn't care. I'm not one to worry about my social standings or whatnot. I don't gossip; I try not to judge. I sometimes forget that people actually do those things.

Most of the time I like being me. Of course, and unfortunately, there are moments---for example, on April 26, 2007, when I wrote the poem above--- that I don't necessarily like what I see when I look at my reflection in the mirror.

Apparently, I am the talk of the singles ward. Why? Because I am going on a mission. Not just any old mission, you see: Australia!--- very exciting. I guess I can't blame people for wanting to talk about it. It is very cool... or as Mac (my boyfriend/ best friend, remember?) would say, "tight."

Speaking of Mac, we're pretty close now, really good friends... who are... well, in love. People like to make judgments about that, too. Family members worry. Friends get sick of me talking about him and even, perhaps, feel jealous that I choose to be with him more than with them.

They can't see what I see when I look in the mirror--- or try to see when I look in the mirror: a girl who has a love for the gospel and a firm testimony that God has asked her to be a missionary, to teach and preach to the people in the Australia Perth Mission (APM... is what the RMs called it.)

For some reason, they see someone who is in love, which I am--- but they also see (or worry that they will see) a silly, naive girl who is on the verge of throwing away this awesome opportunity to go to Australia for a boy.

I wish I could assure them that I know what I'm doing. But I uhhh--- (confession here!) sometimes don't. This is my first real relationship with a guy. I've never had a boyfriend before, and Mac has never had a girlfriend before. And to complicate it all, I AM GOING ON A MISSION. Satan is real and he is tempting me. He wants me to look in the mirror and see a girl who isn't strong; to see a girl who cannot say no, who is afraid to try her luck in missionary work in a very foreign, dangerous land down under.

I wish that I could, instead, see the reflection that God sees. What does God see when He looks at me? Probably someone who is confident; beautiful, a daughter of God; a girl who is worthy to serve a mission and is, in fact, vital and important in His plan; someone who is loved and supported by those who are around her; also, she has the strength to overcome the trials she is given.

You see, I believe that God sees us as we can become. He sees our potential and He sees me differently than I do when I look in the mirror. I'm starting to see that reflection... sorta. I wish it wasn't so fuzzy. Why can't it be clearer? Does anyone have some Windex? Who's got the paper towels?

early-bird-byes

It's early, but I can't help it. I think about it all the time: Australia...! Naturally, I get in these--- uhhh--- moods. Along with feeling super excited, because Australia and being a missionary is going to rock, I also have a tendency to feel a little blue. I can't help it. I like my friends, specifically my boyfriend/ best friend, who I will, from now on, call Mac. (He still hasn't told me if it is okay to say his name on my blog where the entire world can read it. I don't think I have that many readers. Maybe I do. I'd be surprised if I did...)

Anyway, I wrote a song. I've never written a song before. I just started writing poetry, actually. The problem is, it doesn't have a melody. It doesn't have notes. It's just words: verses and a section that I think would make a good chorus.

This is still a rough draft, I think. Not only does it not have music, which I suppose is key to writing a song--- (no pun intended when I said "key.")--- but I also feel like there is something missing. Perhaps there is another verse that I still need to write. But here is what I have so far. Let me know what you think of it. I suppose it is still early to be thinking about saying goodbye... (I am not leaving to go on a mission until the END of NOVEMBER.) ... Nevertheless, I think about saying goodbye every day. Oh, also!--- the title. It's a little tooooo pradicatable. Perhaps I can think of a better title for it. Maybe when I write the un-written verse it will help me figure out a better title..... Again, here is what I have so far. It's called, for now, "Goodbye":

I will never forget
The love you've given to me.
But can't you see?
I have to leave.

chorus:
Goodbye hugs.
Goodbye kisses.
Goodbe maybes, what-ifs and wishes.
I'm leaving,
Goodbye.
I'm leaving, goodbye.

I'm leaving.
I'll see you when I get back.
Please--- don't forget to write back.

Don't ask me why
Just say goodbye.

[Repeat Chorus]

I've been avoiding the pain,
Standing here in the rain.
I hate losing you this way,
So I just ignore the pain [echo: ignore the pain, the pain, the pain]

And I want to wait to say
Goodbye.

[Repeat chorus]

I can't wait forever.
I wish I could stay with you forever.

But I'm leaving.
Goodbye.... [go into chorus]

g'day, mate!

The first time I heard of Perth was July 17, 2007--- the day I got my mission call. The word "Perth" sounded funny to me, almost like a cough. But I knew where it was. I had a map. Besides, Australia isn't too hard to find.

Telling my friends that I was going to "Perth" was exciting, though the word "Perth" still sounded like a foreign place.

After reading Bill Bryon's book--- which I still cannot find! If anyone has seen my In a sunburned country, let me know asap!--- the word "Perth" sounded less foreign to me. I was able to feel more familiar with the country, just reading the book. I have learned a little geography: I can tell you where Adelaide is in comparison to Melbourne or Alice Springs; Queensland in comparison to Sydney, etc. The book gave me a feel for the country.... But, in a way, Australia didn't seem all that real to me. Not yet anyway. It was more like a far away adventurous place that would be cool if it were only real.

Keith Urban gave me hope. Australia must exist if this really cool country star came from there...!

Today, the idea of going to Perth and being a missionary seems real, actually obtainable. And it is because I was able to talk with three very cool returned missionaries. They all served in Perth around the same time. It was fun to watch them reminisce about the mission, talk about their friends and the people they served. They showed me pictures and answered my questions. One of the return missionaries tried to scare me, but the other two assured me that I would be safe. I wouldn't even see a crocodile and I would get used to the spiders: if I left them alone, they would leave me alone.

Here are a few of the things I learned from them:

* I should learn to say "g'day, mate" correctly (people say it to each other all the time).
* I will probably mostly be in the city; they send the Elders to the Outback more than the Sisters.
* I won't see a Croc, except for in the zoo.
* Although I will probably use a bike, if I have a license, I have a high probability of getting a car.
* I should buy "sunnies," which are sunglasses. I can also wear a visor.
* I'll see TONS of kangaroos, anywhere there is good grazing.
* I will get to visit the temple often; in fact, it is right next to the Perth Missionary office.
* I will most likely be transfered to the Southern part of the mission, rather than the North.
*They call Burger Kings "Hungry Jacks"
*There is no real root beer in Australia, so it is very hard to get a root beer float.
* I'll have access to e-mail, but it will be very limited, only a 1/2 hour a week; and I can only e-mail immediate family members.
* "Flats" are apartments.
* I should buy flow-ey skirts so I can ride my bike. (One of the returned Sister missionaries told me how to hike up my skirt to ride a bike.)
* They eat a lot of lamb and fish.

I actually learned a lot more than that, but that gives you a taste of the things that we talked about. We could have talked all night. The more we talked the more excited I got and the more questions I had for them. Also, the more we talked, the more THEY got excited and the more they thought of stories they could tell me.

It was a very neat experience, and--- like I said--- it makes it seem like Perth is a real place. It really does exist! And I'm going there! Soon--- I'll be able to say the word "Perth" and it will feel like home to me....

Aussies are awesome, you know.

I just got back from the Keith Urban concert! It was in Salt Lake and it ROCKED! Keith Urban is an Aussie, and (as you know)Aussies are awesome! Keith Urban is so talented and good looking! His accent was cool, too. I wish he and I could have talked----

He was very impressed with our energy and enthusiasm. We screamed pretty loud. (I have a sore throat to prove it.) And he said, "I think I'm moving to Salt Lake!" My thought, after he said this, was Man! NOW you're gonna move to Utah, right when I'm about to leave to go to Australia--- where you're from...!

I was planning on seeing Keith Urban before I got my mission call, but for some reason, knowing that I am serving in Australia made this concert a little more special to me. I felt like there was this special link between me and Keith, you know... I'm going to Australia, his home country.

Sometimes Australia seems really far away. It's on the other side of the world, for goodness sake. But here I see an awesome Aussie: the very talented, good looking Keith Urban, the first real Aussie I've seen---- and I can't help but think, wow! Australia DOES exist. Keith Urban lived there, grew up there....

And then... Australia doesn't seem so far away.

Perth Australia temple

There IS a temple in Perth!--- I wasn't sure if there was a temple in Australia. But there is! Isn't it beautiful? I don't know if I will be able to go to it--- probably not very often, but it is nice to know that there will be a temple where I am going. I can't wait--- by the way--- to go through the temple and recieve my endowments. I'll be going in the next month or so (in Ogden, Utah temple).... I'm really, really, really excited. :)

And I'm very, very happy there is a temple in the area I will be serving in.

always with you

I'm spending
All my time with you.

There's nothing else
I'd rather do.

I'm thinking
Of all the things we do,
And loving all the moments
I've shared with you.

And when we're apart,
I'm wishing
We weren't.

I look forward
To being with you,
Hearing your voice,
And holding your hand.

I don't quite understand,
But I love spending
All my time with you!

Always, Always...
I want to be with you!

(I wrote this August 25, 2007)

Confidence to Serve

I'm not getting married. Not now, anyway. I'm going on a mission!--- Seriously, I am. I don't understand the confusion that is, apparently, floating around from family member to family member, friend to friend. I'm not marrying my boy friend. I'm not getting married right now. I'm going on a mission!

I guess I can see where there is a little confusion. I hang out with him a lot. Yes, yes. And I am in love. (I've never been in love before. It is exciting, breath-taking and fun!...) But we don't hang out because we're planning on getting married. We don't even expect to be boy friend and girl friend when I get back from Australia. (At least, I don't. Whatever happens will happen, I suppose.) The only thing that we are certain about is that we are best friends... ALWAYS!

It's interesting how, in general, you begin to acquire traits from the people you hang out with the most. Hanging out with my boy friend/ best friend has helped me to acquire some very cool, interesting traits. Along with a long list of things, the biggest, and probably the most helpful, I'd have to say, is CONFIDENCE.

Being his best friend and knowing that he loves me gives me this... huge.... super-power like confidence in myself that I never thought possible. I've always been a little shy, afraid to speak up. Now I feel like "shouting from the roof tops!" as Rascal Flatts would describe it.

I've always been a cautious person, afraid to try new things: experiences, challenges, food, etc. I think about all the possibilities of 'what could go wrong!' and I generally scare myself out of doing it. Not anymore. I'm not saying that I'm totally out of control and I do crazy things for the heck of it. But I am willing to try new things. I'm not afraid!--- Why should I be when I know my boy friend/ best friend is right there, loving me and supportive of me trying new things? Even when he isn't right there, holding my hand, I don't feel afraid. When I got some shots, for example, he wasn't there with me. I was--- let's face it--- deathly afraid: all of the possibilities of 'what could go wrong' started to scare me a little; but I was wearing his hat and I knew that he wouldn't want me to be scared. So I wasn't.

I am feeling confident: in my looks, words, work, abilities, talents...! And I am confident that I am going to be the best missionary I can be. He was once a missionary, you know. And he was great! Perhaps if I hang out with him enough, he will teach me the secrets to a successful mission. "I want to make you proud," I once told him. He smiled and said, "I know you will."

I want to!! I want to!!... I want to be a great missionary in Australia! I want to be brave... because Australians aren't afraid of hardly anything... (maybe crocodiles). And I want to be confident: not afraid to say hello to someone new, know that I have something worth saying, able to bear my testimony with confidence....!

I am going on a mission!!! yeeeeeessssssssss!! :)

Maybe I'm Catty: I'm just saying my thoughts

I'm hungry... I'm sleepy... I'm scared... I love you... Go home... I feel awkward... I'm overwhelmed... This is what I want... This is what I think of this... I like this... I don't like that...

For the past 2-3 weeks or so, I have been saying what I think. I'm being more honest with myself and with others. I'm saying how I feel and what I want. It's hard to say what people are saying and thinking about me as I have been doing this.--- It's hard because I'm not other people; I'm just me and I like it that way.--- But I think saying my thoughts is a good thing.

My tendency--- for as long as I can remember--- is to keep everything (my feelings, my thoughts, desires etc.) to myself. If I'm afraid, I'll deal with it myself. If I'm sad, I'll cry by myself. In love? Keep it to myself and not tell the person I'm in love with, or anyone for that matter. Feeling awkward or overwhelmed? Don't bother my friends and family with it: they have their own problems to deal with; I'll eventually calm down by myself. Even if I'm sleepy, my nap can wait until later. Or if I'm hungry, I'll make my own lunch: good old p & j sandwich.

My sister told me last week that my mom doesn't necessarily like what I'm saying or how I'm saying my thoughts. I don't know if that's true or not. I'm not sure if Mom is telling her one thing and me another, or if she is finally saying what she thinks, too. But when I asked my sister what she thinks of me saying my thoughts, she described me as CATTY.

Maybe I am.

Is that a bad thing? I don't want to be mean and hurt others' feelings, but I think there are times when I should speak up for myself, say what I'm thinking. And that's what I'm trying to do. It's kinda new for me, so I'm still learning what things are okay to say and what things aren't. Be patient with me, my friends.

I think saying my thoughts is a good habit to get into because when I'm a missionary, I will be able to tell my companions (hopefully in a nice way) what I'm thinking about them. I'll be able to tell them when I appreciate their help, when I feel like they're stepping on my toes, when I'm overwhelmed and I need their support--- when I feel good about the way they are teaching and I can ask questions about how I can better improve the way I teach the Gospel....

My honesty will (or hopefully will) help the investigators as well. If I see something they're doing well at---praying more, reading the scriptures, etc.--- I can say my thoughts and applaud them for their efforts and good work in gaining and strengthening a testimony of Christ.

If I am honest with my companions and those I will teach, perhaps they will feel just as open to speak to me about the things that I am doing. Communication is good. It's good in any relationship.

So maybe I am Catty. But at least I'm beginning to communicate better; at least I'm trying to tell those around me how I am feeling and what I am thinking. (shrug)

Learning to Breathe

I know I shouldn't, but I sometimes hold my breath while I'm running. I discovered this yesterday when I decided to take off running down the hill by my house to the park.

I want to be a good runner. I want to exercise more, really, but specifically I want to start running. Not that I'm not fit. I am. I just want to get used to walking for long periods of time. When I go on my mission I'll be expected to do a lot of walking, even running--- from dogs (like dingos, possibly, eh?), and kangaroos. (Do kangaroos chase missionaries in Australia??)

The problem is, I'm not much of a runner. I thought about trying out for the track team in high school but never did. And I try to have all these plans of getting up in the morning and running around the block, but I never do.

That is all going to change. I haven't figured out my schedule quite yet, but when I do... I'll make sure I plan on running every other day or something.

Yesterday---just to try it out--- I went running. And I realized that I forget to breathe. It's such a silly thing to forget. Not only that, but it poses a few problems. 1) It makes me more tired more quickly 2) it makes me red in the face and I feel light headed, which isn't a good thing, and 3) I could die; breathing is not only a habit I have gotten myself into, but something that is crucial if I decide to continue living.

I've had to re-learn to breathe. There is a rhythm, I've learned. "one, two, three, four BREATHE!... one, two, three, four, BREATHE!..." My sister and her husband taught me a few things about breathing while running. Also, I need to set my shoulders back while I run, and I need to swing my fists better. So much to remember. Such simple things that take practice.

I imagine being a missionary will feel like this: learning to breathe all over again. I'll have to create/ find a groove, get used to the rhythm of missionary work and remember to breathe...!

Best Friends

With you
I can do anything,
Be anything.

I feel brave.
I feel funny.
I feel cute,
But only with you.

I'm not afraid
When you're holding my hand.

I am safe
When I'm in your arms.
I'm away from all harms---

I am free.
I am me.

And I'm okay
when I say
I am me.

(This poem didn't used to have a title. Now it does. It's a perfect title, I think. I wrote this back on July 28, 2007. I still feel this way about my best friend/ boy friend. He's pretty awesome.)

Carpe Diem

Remember that balance I was looking for? (Refer to "I'm sitting down" blog.) I think I found it. It was really easy, too. It's in two little Latin words: "Carpe Diem!" Seize the day!

This week I have been doing just that. I have been doing what I want. And I have also been able to do what I need to do as well. I think the trick is making lists of the things I need to get done, wanting to do those things--- and then doing the other things I want to do, too.

I love being spontaneous. It has been particularly enjoyable being spontaneous with my best friend/ boy friend. He's up for basically anything I wanna do. I think he has a very Carpe Diem attitude, and I really admire it. So I've been seizing the day: watching sunsets, kissing in the rain, dancing under the stars, singing to the radio, driving with the sunroof and windows down, playing in the park...etc!

It's been a blast! This week has been incredible. Probably one of the best weeks I've had in a long time and it is because I am standing up: I am doing what I want; I am living life and loving it. I'm doing the things that I want, the way that I want to.

I'm baking cookies; I'm listening to others. I'm telling people how I feel. I'm playing, singing, laughing, smiling, kissing more. I'm writing! I'm reading!

I'm thinking about Australia: about bearing my testimony, meeting new people, talking in public, making others laugh, and watching out for crocodiles. I'm not afraid when I think about being a missionary and living in Australia.

I'm sleeping and eating, dancing and twirling. I'm wearing a hat and having attitude. I'm looking in the mirror and feeling beautiful.

Carpe Diem.... Carpe Diem ... CARPE DIEM!!!

Cut and Paste

I wrote a book. I don't know how many of you know that. But I did. And I would be trying to get it published right now, but uhhh--- I'm leaving for a mission soon. Besides, I think there is still a lot of work to do on it before I'm fully prepared to publish it.

But when I get home...! That is my plan: to start working on publishing my book. It may take years. Heck, it's already taken me about 6-7 years to write the book. I started it when I was 14-ish. I wrote the words "THE END" when I was about 17-ish, and I have been working on it since then, revising, editing, adding more detail, etc.

I've been a little busy, so I haven't had a chance to work on my book lately--- like in the past four to five months or so. I did, however, look at it this morning. I'm a pretty good writer. No, really--- not too shabby. -lol-

Cutting and pasting was really fun. It worked, too. I felt iffy about a certain section I was reading and I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I switched some paragraphs around and it really helped. It was pretty awesome how I was able to piece it together, like a puzzle. And if I didn't like the changes, I could just cut and paste it back the way it was. I love writing, and I love talking about writing. I can't wait until I start tutoring again.

Hero

I wish
I was like you.

Brave
And not shy,
Not afraid to
Ask why.

I wish I could
Be honest and true,
Be funny and creative
Like you.

You're out going and fun.
You make me wish
I could be more.

Because I know you
I don't feel like a zero.
And that is why
You are my hero.

(I wrote this August 1, 2007)

According to Bill

Bill Bryson wrote a book called In a Sunburned Country. It isn't the only book that he wrote, but I think it is probably my favorite. Not that I've read all of his books, but this one is about Australia, so I'm a little biased.

My sister suggested the book to me. It was one of the first things she said to me when I told her that I am going to Australia. "Read this book!" she said. I bought it and have been reading it since. It is a book of Bill Bryson's impressions and experiences in Australia. He is a very good writer, and I'm loving the book.

According to Bill Bryson,

Australia is the world's sixth largest country and its largest island. It is the only island that is also a continent, and the only continent that is also a country....[and] is the only nation that began as a prison....It has more things that will kill you than anywhere else. Of the world's ten most poisonous snakes, all are Australian. Five of its creatures...are the most lethal of their type in the world. This is a country where even the fluffiest of caterpillars can lay you with a toxic nip, where seashells will not just sting you but actually sometimes go for you....If you are not stung or pronged to death in some unexpected manner, you may be fatally chomped by sharks or crocodiles, or carried helplessly out to sea by irresistible currents, or left to stagger to an unhappy death in the baking outback. It is a tough place... (6)

And this is where I am going on a mission. :)

Bill Bryon also says this:

Let me just say right here that I love Australia---adore it immeasurably---and am smitten anew each time I see it....The people are immensely likable---cheerful, extrovert, quick-witted, and unfailingly obliging. Their cities are safe and clean and nearly always built on water. They have a society that is prosperous, well ordered, and instinctively egalitarian. the food is excellent. The beer is cold. The sun nearly always shines. There is coffee on every corner. Rupert Murdoch no longer lives there. Life doesn't get much better than this. (10)

Those quotes I've just shared with you are simply in the introduction. He goes into more details, obviously, as he travels the country. Reading this book--- this is where I feel like I am on Reading Rainbow--- has made me realize two things, if not more:

1- Australia is dangerous.
2- I'm gonna have a blast!

I CANNOT wait until I go to Australia. It is as simple as that. I love reading about it, watching shows about it and its animals and people and I simply cannot stop thinking about it. I believe wholly that it is where I am supposed to go. And I can't wait.

Sink or Swim

I'm not much of a swimmer. I used to be when I was a kid. Not the greatest even then, but I used to swim. I think I might have even certified in swimming, if there is such a thing.

Somewhere between elementary or junior high, however, I decided that I did not like swimming and never wanted to swim again. I don't know why. It might have been because of a bad experience. I don't remember. Maybe it was just a poor attempt to claim that I am growing up and no longer like swimming, if there is such a strange connection between swimming and not growing up. Most likely, I just no longer fit my swim suit and did not want to go in search for another.

It has been YEARS since I have been swimming. When my sister invited me to come and visit her in Arizona, she said it was unacceptable to not swim. She would toss me in the pool if it came to it. Upon hearing that, I decided that I would either have to sink or swim.

I chose to swim.

My other sister and I went on a quest to find the perfect swim suit. Amazingly enough, we found one. (I say that glibly, but it really was quite a quest.) When I got to Arizona, my sister and her husband called to me to go swimming with them. I put on my swim suit, put on some sun screen and headed to the pool. My sister handed me a floaty, and I got in the pool.

And I swam. I liked it, once I got in there. Also, believe it or not, I jumped off the diving board--- more than once! And shhhh... I even let go of the floaty a couple times. I wouldn't say that I am the best swimmer in the world, but at least I like swimming again. At least I got in the water and tried.

I think going to Australia will be like this. I will have to choose to "sink or swim" when I get there. I'm not saying that I am literally going to have to swim when I get there. (In fact, quite oppositly. I don't expect to go swimming at all.) But I am saying that I am going to need a little courage to be a missionary in Australia. There will be a choice to either chicken out and fail, or be brave and succeed. I choose the latter.

Produce section

Okay. The most annoying thing in the Universe. I went shopping with my sister today. No, shopping with my sister isn't the most annoying thing. Nor was it what store we went to. It wasn't what we bought, either. In fact, we found this really delicious Australia licorice!--- And we got this very tasty strawberry cream soda.

The most annoying thing in the world was walking through the produce section and thinking in code numbers. "Do you like pinapples?" my sister would ask me. My thought; Pineapple... what is a pinapple? Oh, yes! 4430. "There's some cucombers."---Cucumbers: 4062. I walk by the red lettuce: 4475. Green lettuce: 4476. Red potatoes: 4073. White potatoes: 4083....

IT IS THE MOST ANNOYING THING IN THE UNIVERSE!

It is annoying because... yes... I worked at Harmon's, the local grocery store, for three years--- and I just quit last week. Last Saturday was my last day. I shouldn't have to think in codes anymore.

Thinking about it, I guess it is funny. But it was extremly annoying at the time.

I'm sitting down

Just because I want something doesn't necessarily give me the right to have it. I was pretty selfish last weekend. I was only doing what I want. Not what I need to do. I've been slacking off in some things. And that's not like me. I want to blame someone else. But in all reality, it isn't his fault. It's mine. I didn't have my head on straight. I wanted to only do what I want. People do only what they want all the time. Why couldn't I?

I realized yesterday, however, that I'm not like other people. I'm not selfish. I care a lot about people and other people's feelings. And I can't change that characteristic in myself. No matter how hard I try I will always care about others and their feelings. It's my nature. I can't truly be selfish.

But it's fun sometimes: to be anti-social, to be only with my best friend/ boy friend and not do anything else, to care only about what I want and not worry about anyone else, to speak my thoughts, to be first...

So--- right now I'm trying to find a balance. I want to find somewhere between keeping my caring self and not shirking my responsibilities, and doing and getting what I want. There has to be a balance. I bet I can find it if I sit down. That is what I'm doing: sitting down. My stand--- declaring that I want to do what I want--- was a little hasty. I have to think this through. I'm not a selfish person, and if I become selfish I'll become someone/ something I'm not. I'll "blink," as my sister says, and not know who I am anymore and wonder how I became what I am.

What I want

A friend of mine has a saying: "Do what you want." I wish I could do that. It's really good advice.

All my life I've seemed to mold my life around others. How can I make others happy? I put myself and my needs after the needs of others. I care about people. I care about others' feelings. I'm a good listener and I'll let someone else speak before I say anything.

I step to the side, let others go first. As long as my friends and family are happy and getting what they want, it doesn't matter if I don't get what I want. I can go without. I don't mind wallowing in my unhappiness for a little while if it makes someone else happy.

So--- I say a lot of things I sometimes don't mean. I keep a lot of my feelings inside so I don't hurt other people. I make others laugh; I laugh at other people's lame jokes. I hide when I'm angry or upset. I cry alone.

I'm sick of it! I hate showing two sides of me. I want to "DO WHAT I WANT," as my friend suggests. If I am hungry, I am going to eat. If I feel like crying, I am going to cry.

I want to live with my sister, Dad. It's closer to school and work. Trust me on this. I'll have enough money to go on my mission.

I'll probably sell my car. Yes, but give me some time. Let me figure it out. Don't tell me what to do. I want to do it my way.

I want to tutor instead of working at the grocery store. Yes, I'm quitting. Get over it.

I want to read Harry Potter. No interruptions, please. I want to blog. I want to write. I want to sing. I want to dance. Leave me alone. Don't make fun of me.

I want to be with my best friend. I don't want to date anyone else. I don't want him to date anyone else. I want to dance in the rain. I want to kiss in the snow.

This is me saying what I want. ----See me?---- I'm on my chair. (okay, not really, but it makes it seem more dramatic if I am standing up tall.) I am saying what I want. This time YOU can go without. I'm getting what I want... because I am going to DO WHAT I WANT.

Boys over books??!!

I have the Harry Potter, book 7, to read! I haven't started it, but I have it. I don't like to buy hard back and neither does my sister. But my sister didn't want someone telling her the ending of the book, so she bought the hard back copy anyway. She intends to sell it to her friend once she and I have read it. She finished reading it and now it is my turn. I don't want anyone to tell me the end--- so if you've read it, please don't tell me anything about the book.

My sister finished the book on Friday and she gave it to me on Saturday. But I haven't touched it.....

??????????????????????????????????????

I'm awfully confused. Why haven't I read it yet? I have been waiting for the new Harry Potter book for a very long time. And now I have a copy. It's right there... in my papasan, ready to be read. And yet... there it has been sitting all weekend. Not touched. And there it still sits...

I was thinking about it today and I know why I haven't started it yet. I remembered what I did this weekend that prevented me from reading the book. The answer? A boy. Can you believe it? I chose a boy over a book!! I've never done that before!--- A really good friend of mine and I went camping together. He invited me to go with his family. It was really fun.

Here's the thing, though: I don't like camping. Really, I don't. I haven't been since Girls camp and I didn't like it much then. There's dirt and snakes and porty-potties. (ick!)

But this was different. I got to do all kinds of fun things... brave things, even. I drove a four-wheeler! I roasted marshmallows. I ate really good steak and I cuddled by the fire... Yeah, my finger nails got dirty and I felt stinky by the end of the camping trip, but I didn't care. It didn't bother me. And the bug thing wasn't a problem, nor the snakes. We didn't see any snakes. Or bears, which I was convince on our little hike that we'd run into one and then I'd get eaten. But that didn't happen. Instead, we danced under the stars. We laughed and I played Frisbee with his brother. We ate cobbler. I relaxed. I was brave...

It was really great. I never would have believed it if someone had told me that choosing a boy over a book was fun. But it was.

Choosing to go camping was brave. But I still want to read Harry Potter. I think that is what I am going to do now.---Back to books over boys. It was fun for a little while, but I'm ready to get back to my old book-wormy self. Back to the books. For now at least.

Will You

When I'm afraid
Will you quiet my fears?

When I am crying
Will you dry my tears?

If I am hiding,
Will you come find me?

If you look in my eyes,
What will you see?

Will you
Laugh with me
Play with me
Sing with me
Dance with me??

Will you hold onto me
And never let go?

Will you never
leave me alone?

(I wrote this July 15, 2007)

Small print

I remember the moment I decided to be a missionary. I can't say the day or time I gained a testimony and I can't even tell you the moment I first thought about missionary work. But I do remember the moment I willingly decided that I would become missionary.

It was a hard decision. I was in school. I was in my apartment. I like school. I liked my apartment. I liked how my life was going. I knew that there would be sacrifices to make, becoming a missionary. I wasn't sure if I could make the sacrifices. Also, I wasn't sure if I would make a good missionary. It takes talking to people, and I can be really shy sometimes.

But the feeling in my gut and the words in my mind were so strong that I don't think I can ever deny the fact that God wants me to be a missionary. And so it was decided that I would be a missionary. I went through the paper work. I made sacrifices: moving out of my wonderful apartment, quitting school, giving away a lot of my junk to DI... etc. It was hard to make these sacrifices, but I did it willingly. I thought the sacrificing would end there. But it hasn't. I didn't read the small print in the contract.

Dad said that he would take care of Babs, my wonderful perfect car, while I was gone. Apparently things have changed. Dad says that I should sell Babs. I don't know if any of you know this about me, but I really, really, really LOVE my car! I've had it since I was 16 and I really love it.

I don't want to sell my car!!--- I didn't read the small print. That wasn't in the contract. Also... the boy-thing. That wasn't in the contract. I finally find someone who likes me enough who could easily become my boy friend--- my first one--- and I am going to have to say good bye to him. Not only that, but I am going to be away from the snow! I LOVE the snow. Why doesn't it snow in Australia?

Surely this was in the small print. I didn't know I would have to give up EVERYTHING to be a missionary. Certainly not my car! Dear Babs! Dear Babs... how I love thee!...

Laughing Out Loud

I've moved in with my sister and her husband finally, and I'm really happy about it. I finally feel at home. :)

There are a few habits, however, that I have acquired while living alone that MAY become a problem. Or not. You decide which are good habits and which are bad. Here's the list of some of the things I have become accustomed to doing, while living alone:

* Listening to music REALLY loud
* Singing REALLY loud (Yes, in the shower, too.)
* Leaving the bathroom door open when I use the rest room (When I lived alone... who was gonna walk in?)
* Dancing and doing the dishes
* Talking on the phone for an excessive time (I'm talking 5-7 hours on the phone with various people)
* Leaving the TV on while I clean
* Always locking the door when I leave the house (Not a bad habit, but it doesn't make a ton of sense to lock up if there are people still at home.)
* Leaving my journal out where people could potentially read it (Happened to me! My best friend found my journal and started reading it. I was so mad at him.)
* Bursting into song--- for no apparent reason, whether the radio is on or not
* Laughing out loud! (I'll be reading a blog or a book and start laughing out loud; watching TV and I'll laugh out loud; think a funny thought and laugh out loud.)

Eating again

Food is good. I love food: healthy, fatty, greasy, chocolaty, green-y, fruity, milky...etc.

I did not have to force myself to eat this morning. My new best friend has been really great with helping me with my recent, funny eating habits. I told him that I have this funny quark... eating in front of guys. I can't do it. I can't eat in front of guys. Not really. I don't know why! It started in high school. I used to know why it was hard for me to eat in front of guys, but now I don't remember. -lol- So, I have funny habits in the first place, but to top it off, I haven't had the desire to eat.

I woke up this morning-- in my new home, by the way; I'm living with my sister and her husband--- and I wanted cereal. I wanted to eat! I haven't wanted to eat for over 2-4 weeks. (Refer to my "Accidental diet" blog) Wanting to eat feels good. Knowing that I am going to Australia feels good. Having a second best friend feels good. Living in my new home feels good.

Over all, I think I feel good. I'm eating again.