ALS

I read Tuesdays with Morrie for the first time a few weeks ago. (And found my own copy for a dollar at a thrift store, score.) Obviously I was effectively touched, because reading the biography of the author (conveniently placed at the end of a book about how material things don't matter) meant absolutely nothing to me. It was kind of cool. I have been known to say things like, "Dude, TIGHT" when people tell me they've had concussions or other kinds of neurologic problems. Naturally, I find amyotrophic lateral sclerosis fascinating on paper. Not only does it involve the nervous system (which I love) but it also often affects speech (which is what I'll be doing with the rest of my life). But in real life, this disease is terrifying. Your neurons just die. No cause has been discovered, nor is there a surefire method of diagnosis. But as a future speech-language pathologist who wants to work with patients that have neurologic disorders, I am grateful that I have a grounded belief in something beyond this life. If I didn't, I'd probably cry every day of working with patients. I probably still will anyways. Don't judge me.

japanese noodles, graduation, and nice notes.

There comes a time in your life when you realize that all the answers are not on the World Wide Web, nor are they even in existence. I reached that point this week. Note to self: it's very difficult to do a research paper when there is not enough research on a desired subject. Obviously, I'm going into the right field. The subject of research for the week is stop closures. (Can you tell I'm in love with this stuff?) Think about someone who stutters. (We call this "disfluency.") Have you ever noticed that this person might have abnormally long pauses in between consonants? Say the word "udon." (This is a type of Japanese noodle. It tastes delicious with teriyaki sauce.) The sound /d/ is what we call a "stop." This means that there is a stop to the flow of air when you make this sound. Try it. Feel how your tongue pushed up against the roof of your mouth? (This is the alveolar ridge.) Feel how the air stops flowing out? You've just constricted your airway to form the pressure required to create a burst of air that inevitably comes with correctly phonating the sound /d/. Now place your hand in front of your mouth while saying the word "udon." (If you're hungry at this point, you can pick up some udon noodles at your local grocery store or make a little trip up to Doc Chey's in Atlanta.) Feel how the air seems to stop when you say the /d/? Try it a little more slowly. Isn't this the coolest thing ever? (If you don't think so, you are obviously cut out for much different things than I am.) Anyways, there are only 39 results for "disfluency" and "stop closure" in my library database, and I'll bet at least half of them are nowhere near what I want more information on. I feel like I am moving up in the world now that I can beat the system.

In other news, I am graduating from an unspecified university in an unspecified month in about 6 weeks from now. Yesterday I went to speak with one of my professors about his research and my plans to earn a doctorate degree. He was ecstatic. (Good sign, right? Hopefully he will be willing to write me a good letter of recommendation despite my slightly sub-par grades.) There you have it. I plan to get my PhD by the age of 27 and go on to change the world, one stop closure at a time.

Finally, as per my mother's request, I will explain the concept of "nice notes" to the rest of you out in cyberspace who do not have the lovely pleasure of living inside what we affectionately call "The Bubble." A "nice note" is a note of niceties (or other sentiments) written during a weekly church meeting and handed out afterwards be a specified committee to the person to whom it is addressed. They can be anonymous and can really say whatever you'd like them to say. (But I have to admit, my attempts at anonymity have been failing recently.) A few of my favorites have said things like "I've been to your house" or "you bring pain to my heart every time I try to invite you to do something." Breaking hearts since '92. But still writing nice notes.

this is summer...

...where I respond to names like "Boudreau" and "Banan." This is summer, where I spend my nights playing the piano while my family tries to sing along. This is summer, where at any time I have at least 3 Wikipedia tabs open on my computer, along with at least one Google Doc on something new I am trying to learn. This is summer, where I can't tell you that I've wasted any time, but when asked what I did with my day, I really don't have an answer. This is summer, where I memorize things like airport codes and flower names. Where I drive barefoot. Where my hair sometimes resembles a lion's mane. Where I watch Disney movies with my brothers. Where I cook chicken and rice and steak and potatoes and make snow cones and brownies and ice cream and cake. This is summer.

your weekend is probably much better than mine.

I have a confession: I can't really think right now. My roommate is talking animatedly in Russian on the couch next to me, and I'm popping cough drops in my mouth that say things like, "Push on!" or "Don't give up on yourself!" approximately every 4 minutes and 16 seconds. Needless to say, I have been sitting in the same spot for the last 40 minutes and have done the following:

- felt my head for a fever
- popped a cough drop
- looked at a list of things I should be doing this weekend
- popped a cough drop
- logged into Facebook and logged out because it's unproductive
- popped a cough drop
- read the blogs of people with lives much more interesting than mine
- popped a cough drop

At least I had the good sense to fix my hair and do my makeup so it could be wasted on my computer screen. Happy Saturday, folks.

karma.

For some reason I seem to have gotten it in my head that blessings are limited—that I am only allotted a small portion of good karma for each day, and that said karma will only come a. when I am feeling at my lowest, or b. to buoy me up right before something terrible happens. I'd really like to believe that this is not the case.

As I walking to campus today, I took a strange route. While on said strange route, I passed a guy in a pink shirt, who, upon seeing me, promptly stopped, looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Have a great day." Here's the thing. I think that deep down, it is imbedded in my nature to accept the good things that happen to me, because my immediate response was a sincere "thank you." This surprised me, to be honest. I wondered where the thoughts were that questioned this nicety, or that asked, "Wow, do I just look that hideous today?" They weren't there. So here's to the belief that good things happen all the time, and they are the result of some greater power simply trying to give us all a reason to smile, whether we think we need it or not. Good things are not conditional. (This is important for those of us who have a tendency to doubt themselves, such as yours truly.) Good things are not limited. Good things are abundant, and they are all around us. So start looking for them today (if you haven't already), and enjoy.

search bar lately II.

"asha loan forgiveness"
"duke vs. miami" (Obviously this is old since they're both out of the tournament. Not that I'm mad or anything.)
"veins in the arm"
"munificence"
"stanford university"
"leaf phoenix"
"hide and seek" 

scarred.

So today I was in the student center just eating a lovely salad with a friend of mine. And I heard some freshman boys whispering about something. So I looked. And there, at a table not 20 feet from mine, was a couple. Their chairs were about a foot from each other. And it looked like he was trying to swallow her face. And she liked it. Scarred. For life. Never letting another man touch me. Just kidding. Kind of.

For a visual, please watch the following:

obligatory post about snow.

The only shoes I trust to get me through this mess.

an update.

To those of you who are biting your nails with concern about my health, I gave up on the diet about 20 hours after deciding to do it. No adverse effects.

In other news, I am wearing sweatpants to school for the first time ever since my freshman year of high school. This is due to the fact that 1. my feet are killing me from skating last night and you just don't wear these tennis shoes with jeans, and 2. I have a bruise on my hip from falling (for the first time ever) and really don't want denim rubbing up against it. With that being said, here's to Casual Friday.

probably just symptoms of hypochondria.

So. Saturday night I had an episode. An episode typically involves me eating who-the-heck-knows-what and then being completely incapacitated on account of nausea, headache, the shakes,  a sudden drop in body temperature, etc. The usual. In order to figure out what exactly the who-the-heck-knows-what is, this week I am gluten-free, lactose-free, and peanut-butter-free. So here I sit, eating my breakfast of eggs mashed up with cut-up pieces of turkey jerky and spinach leaves. In the microwave, my lunch of a single chicken breast is defrosting. For dinner, I will have an apple. Joy. Whatever you do, don't let me eat a cookie.

language sampling.

Yesterday for an assignment, I took a sample of a child's language. When I left, she told her nanny I was beautiful. I firmly believe that children see things much more clearly than we give them credit for, and often see more clearly than we ourselves do. And that's not just because I like the self-esteem boost.

to gms.

Thank you for telling me my rings and last name were cool. Thank you for helping me when I finally got over my stubbornness and asked. Thank you for knowing way more about Macs than I do, but still acting impressed by my limited knowledge. Thank you for remembering who I was and asking questions like you really cared. Thank you for making Star Wars references, even though they weren't directed at me. I think it surprised me that I laughed. You probably don't remember me, and I will probably never see you again, but that's okay. Today you were an angel for me. Thank you.

the tenth thing.

I thought of one today while we were talking in Speech Anatomy about class II and III malocclusions.

10. I corrected my own underbite when I was 6.

3.10.13

You are special. You are strong. And someone out there loves you very much. You might not believe me. But you should. The world can work against you. But don't you dare give in to it. Don't you ever give up. You are so special, and you are so strong. Anyone who tells you otherwise is dead wrong. And don't you ever forget it.

nine things because i couldn't think of ten aka some useless shiz and me bragging about myself.

1. I got second place my freshman year of college in a game of Assassins. And 85 bucks.
2. I am fluent in English BUT I also have a working knowledge of Spanish and French and can sign a little.
3. I won the school-wide spelling bee in both the fourth and fifth grades.
4. I designed and sewed both my prom dresses.
5. I used to write music when I was sad. So I compiled a whole CD of my depressing memoirs.
6. I can't sleep unless I'm holding onto something.
7. I cut hair. Only boys' hair. And only in one style. And it usually involves a return trip so I can clean up the pieces I missed. But I sure can wield them clippers.
8. I pop my wrists.
9. I can't go anywhere without my CamelBak.

copland.

The first concert I ever attended was the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra's performance of Aaron Copland's Rodeo. I was 6. And I fell in love. Tonight I heard the Utah Symphony perform Appalachian Spring. And I couldn't stop grinning. (Teared up, too, nbd.) The conductor turned the last page so tenderly that I could feel such a reverence for the music just emanating from him. It was almost as if he were paying his respects to Aaron right there. And he did him proud, too. They always say that music is another kind of language, one that touches the soul, and all that sappy stuff. But seriously. Copland gets me every time.

i took the gre.

And failed miserably. But it's totally fine, I'm not even mad. No life lessons here. But sometimes it's good to just relax. Just take some R&R. Watch some trashy TV and eat ice cream and Oreos with peanut butter. It's fine. Go do it.

foods i want to eat but can't.

Every minute, at least 10 different foods run through my head and I just want to eat them all. But, even though the swelling has gone down, I am still reduced to eating soupy mashed potatoes with chunks of a cheese stick melted in for added flavor. Anyways, if I were allowed to chew, here's what I'd eat.

+ pizza
+ pasta
+ bread
+ chicken parmesan
+ italian food of any kind
+ sushi
+ orange chicken
+ chips and salsa
+ chips of any kind
+ steak
+ chicken
+ fried catfish
+ a hamburger
+ a turkey burger
+ meat of any kind
+ those cookies in the bookstore
+ cake
+ brownies even though I don't like chocolate
+ cookies
+ cookies
+ cookies
+ something other than smoothies
+ something other than ramen with the noodles all cut up
+ something other than soupy mashed potatoes
+ cookies

Anyone else sensing a trend here? Yes, I am the biggest baby.

search bar lately.

"oliver trask the o.c. steinbeck"
"crepuscular"
"law of moses priest"
"seppuku"
"strong's exhaustive concordance"
"luke 1:25 reproach greek"
"byu international cinema"
"cake mix cookies"

pity party/thank you.

So. I got part of me extracted two days ago. My wisdom teeth, to be exact. Not even a big deal. But I came out of the anesthesia bawling my eyes out about nothing in particular. (So, to answer my question as to what kind of drunk I'd be... The hysterical, histrionic, cry-my-eyes-out kind. Awesome.) I came home and promptly threw up blood. Out of my nose, too. It was fantastic. After a nap, I got up and had to lay on the floor. I started blacking out. But as soon as I could get up, I heard a knock on the door. It was my friend DP. I knew he was an answer to a prayer, but it hadn't been mine. So. Whoever you are, thank you.

And to the rest of you, go enjoy chewing something for me today.

plane buddies.

Ever had a conversation with someone on a plane? I'm always worried to start talking to people because I'm not the greatest conversationalist and because it's just awkward when you want to read your book or something. But, no lie, yesterday I talked to a guy on the plane for the entire 3 hours and 47 minutes from home. Yes, we're getting married. Just kidding. He was a Mormon missionary coming home for the first time in two years. And it was nice to just talk to someone. No worrying what he wanted from me, no awkward moments, just a nice chat to take my mind off the flight back and the consequent re-acclimation to the current status of my social life. (Non-existent.) It was really nice to take my mind off my own problems for a bit. When I turned around to say goodbye after getting off the plane, he was gone. And that was that. I wish I'd say goodbye, or at least good luck in life, but he was gone. It was a blessing to have had someone there. Even when I feel my worst, someone is looking out for me.

AA.

I always forget, until I walk past a bar at a restaurant, that the familiar smell I have smelled on AH's breath all these years is alcohol. Reality is sobering.

wrasslin'.

So, as basically no one knows, I jetted out for that one holiday and came home for the weekend to watch my brother compete in the state tournament for an unpecified sport in which boys grapple each other while wearing leotards. It's been interesting. I laughed, I cried. (What's new?) Here are some highlights.

1. "No po-po? I go-go." --my mother
2. After hearing my life plan to become an audiologist, CA asked me what I was going to do about sex. I'm not sure what worries me more, her assumption that I will be single for the rest of my life or her thinking that intercourse is crucial to a healthy lifestyle.
3. My mother's only thoughts on the 4-time state champion referred to his shoulder blades and surrounding musculature: "He looks like he has boobs on his back. I mean, if you were to take a picture without his head there, he'd look like some deformed woman!"

Sometimes, things happen. Like losing. My brother lost. Predicted to place, and he lost before the quarter finals. Pinned in 30 seconds by a boy he'd beaten the week before. But that's not what made me cry. (Yep, me. Tearing up in the middle of a sports event.) I went to give him his food today and he said he didn't want to eat until he had warmed up with AP. AP was wrestling for the championship. It's every little boy's dream to come down those stairs when they call your name and stand on the mats with the rest of the boys competing to be state champ in each class and weight. And AP got to do it. But he asked my brother to come out on the mats with him and help him warm up. And he stood out there on the mats, waiting to warm up until my brother came down. My brother, out there with the rest of the state champions. As I drove him home today, he told me that afterwards, AP had said to him, "I couldn't have done it without you, brother." Bless AP's little heart. (And someone did, since he was indeed crowned state champ.) Sometimes things suck. Refs make bad calls. You get put on your back when you never see it coming. And it sucks. It really does. But there are beautiful moments through every single one of the hard times. Sometimes you have to look hard. Sometimes they are staring you in the face. But the fact of the matter is that you have to get up. You have to keep going, and you have to keep hoping. And you have to keep looking, because the sun will always rise again.

i am not who i was a year ago.

A year ago, I was sad. Not depressed, just generally a flatline person. It was just a sad state for me compared to who I am now. But in the past year I have learned how to hope. I have learned how to trust that there is a greater power in this world than me or anyone else. I have learned how to be honest with myself and with others. I have learned how to be brave. I have learned how special and unique I am. And I have learned how to trust my own sanity, even when everyone else doubts me. You might think that sounds sad. But it's not. I know everything will be okay. I don't know how. I don't know when. But I know that for me, this whole religion-and-prayer thing tends to work out pretty well. So I am sticking to what I know, to what I've felt, to what I've experienced that proves to me that there is still good left in the world, and that there is always hope, even for the impossible.

salt lake in the spring.

Instead of dwelling on the snow coming to our fair city in the next week, I'm doing another photo-dump to brighten your spirits.

I sincerely apologize for my lack of formatting skills. It's totally fine, I'm not even mad.

make it a great day.

"Make it a great day!" This is the sentiment my father would exclaim every morning when he dropped me off. "Okay, Dad." Typical angsty teenager, you know. But now that I am just so mature, I would like to personally recommend making it a great day. Talk to people who make you happy. Like this girl never ceases to make me smile. And if you aren't happy, change something. Try something new. A new pattern of thought, a new project, a new major, whatever floats your boat. See how you like it. But the key to your own happiness has always been and will always be so within reach that it is a part of you. So make it a great day. Take a chance. Be happy. As someone very wise once said, "You write your own story." So... Write it. And for heaven's sake, please make it a happy one.

#gonnabefine

Today was a pretty serendipitous day. It felt about like this:

A lot of good things happened. And while nothing was new information, it felt like a little more of a push in the right direction. A lot of little signs that everything's going to be okay. Sometimes it gets hard. Sometimes it gets really hard. But we're going to make it, people. I'm sure.

yup, i'm religious.

I don't know what has happened to me lately (well, I do... but it's not public information), but I have truly gained such a testimony of the gospel with which I have aligned my beliefs my whole life. It's taken me a while to get here. Anyways, I'm a big fan of this man and this is something that really rang true with me when I stumbled across it the other day.

Put Your Trust in God

It isn’t as bad as you sometimes think it is.

It all works out. Don’t worry.

I say that to myself every morning.

It will all work out.

Put your trust in God,

and move forward with faith

and confidence in the future.

The Lord will not forsake us.

He will not forsake us.

If we will put our trust in Him,

if we will pray to Him,

if we will live worthy of His blessings,

He will hear our prayers.

Sometimes I think I sound like a broken record, saying, "Everything's going to be okay." I say it every day of my life. I write it in my journal over and over again. I cried my eyes out in the middle of class after reading this, the usual response to churchy things as of late. This is what happens when you have something to live for, people. I highly recommend you try it.

it's like she knows me.

http://thediaryofajoshuatree.blogspot.com/2013/01/and-sometimes-thats-just-way-to-feel.html

first week of school.

Good things from this week...

+ Hitting this place up twice.
+ 16 credits.
+ Having my GRE date rescheduled due to inclement weather.
+ Downton Abbey starting up again.
+ Big O tires on my car.
+ Macey's cookies.
+ Cutting SJ's bangs.
+ Epiphanies.
+ Girl talk.
+ Falling in love with this song.



Hope your week was just as good.

cowboy boots and a life lesson.

Secretly, I'm just a little bit of a country girl. Not much, and not in a Texas-country way. I like to refer to my family as sophisticated (lowcountry) rednecks. But, lowcountry rednecks are different than your regular ol' run-of-the-mill rednecks. But that's not the point. The point is, I love my cowboy boots. Do I ride horses? No. Do I plan to step in manure any time soon? No. But I love my boots. And they have holes in them. So I had to buy new ones. And I did. Three pairs, because that's just how I make decisions. (Keep in mind that all three pairs could be returned with free shipping.) And, wouldn't you know it, after trying them all on, the pair I fell in love with was the first pair that had ever caught my eye. But I couldn't be sure. And if a girl can be sure about something in her life, it's got to be shoes.

Now, I would normally return the item and say, "If I want it bad enough, I'll go back for it." (I have yet to do so with any purchase.) But these I just couldn't let go of. So I've been wearing them around the house since Christmas. And today I finally wore them outside. I'm very cautious about decision-making (in case you can't tell) so the whole day I was thinking about how they felt, what they'd do in the snow, whether my feet were too warm or cold, etc. I'm in Books-a-Million with my mother at about 8 pm, and a woman comes up to me. "I love your boots," she says. "Where did you get them? What brand are they?" So I told her. Zappos, Ariat. "I'm from New Mexico," she says, "And those are the boots to get." It wasn't like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders, but it was nice to know that I'd made the right decision for me.

Note to self: trust your gut. End of story.

2012.

2012 is over. Gone are the days of 12/12/12 Facebook statuses and counting down to the end of the world. To be honest, I'm not big on New Year's. I spent last night sending out "Happy New Year!" texts at 12 and promptly falling asleep. (Wow, should I really admit that for the world to know?) And although my New Year's celebration wasn't like this...

...it was good enough for me. It's been an interesting year, to say the least. This year has been a year of learning for me. I've learned quite a few things that I needed to know. Among other things, I've definitely learned that everything will be okay, no matter what happens. So with that, I welcome 2013 and all that it will bring. It's Day 1. Happy New Year!