{un}published part iii

life.
setting the timer to say "ah! burning cookies!"
taking home two heavy old (free) chem books so I can use the paper to wrap gifts
using "shut-up" as an exclamation

***

He was prisoner and bound to Rome by ship to answer to the law of Caesar. His journey had already been long, taking him to far lands, crying with a loud voice, praying someone would listen. It was a mission, a purpose in life he was thrust into unexpectedly.

The ship bounced from island to island.

 

***

It was sunny today. I knew that it had to be, that the light radiating from the hearts of millions on this Easter morn would easily diffuse the clouds.

I've been reading this after a link from my sista, and some of the posts have been particularly poignant to me. It is so important to stay connected to saints. We all need that sustaining power. One such post particularly touched me, not so much what the post said as what it referenced to. This happened last week and Elder Holland's talk on the Atonement of Christ touched me deep down to the very core.

Today we sang He is Risen! I was immediately transported back to two gardens, as I was during Elder Holland's talk, two gardens I love. Two Gardens that transformed my heart during a time that seems so long ago. I suddenly missed Jerusalem more than I had in a long time. I wished I could have been there on this easter morn, in the garden tomb, to celebrate the ultimate gift. I know that I do not need to be there to feel and celebrate, but I miss it.

On the top of the program is a classic picture of Mary kneeling before the risen Lord. her neck is extended up to him, so her eyes meet his face. What is interesting about the painting is that both Christ and Mary have their right hands extending out towards each other, but their left hands facing themselves, coming toward their

***

My first, and so far only, Utah adventure was to the Cathedral of the Madeleine in Salt Lake. We went up for a concert. BYU faculty played pieces of Chopin,

***

It seems so far away, so long ago. And yet... there are moments when it seems as if it was yesterday when the loss seemed to much to carry. That the bond was severed and then fused back together, stronger than ever.

I forget sometimes. I forget what it feels like to lose that much. I forget how it feels to be so profoundly hurt inside. As time goes on the wound heals and life as it is now, seems much more of a reality, of a normality than the past ever did.

Sometimes I forget the bond I felt to those around me that also lost. A bond so tangible I could





M.



part i
part ii

rebel

got my first parking ticket today. In fact, it was my first driving violation reprimand of any kind.

I know, I know. I'm such a goodie two-shoes. But now I'm going down the dark and slippery slope of breaking the law. Next thing you know I'll be pulling off a jewelry heist.

very jokey*

I feel like many of my posts lately have been the serious end of things. While I am naturally inclined to contemplation, I think I would explode if my life was consisted solely of such thought. Since I want mjots to be a place where I am real and true to myself and to you, I feel like I ought to tell you what isn't so serious in my life at the moment:

• I've rediscovered the jackal face. Most likely only one or two out of the five people reading this will know what I'm talking about, but trust me you're missing out. I was walking home the other day and something made me think of it. I contorted my face into the jackal and preceded to burst out laughing. I did it over and over several times, laughing to myself all the way home. Oh how I've missed you jackal.
• In honor of Harry Potter seven part two, I adorned my key chain with my awesome and very large snitch. I love seeing people's eyes get wide as they see it on my key chain. "Is that a snitch!?" Problem is, it isn't always the most appropriate item to have on a key chain. Like when I'm walking into the Temple for example. That's when I leave the snitch in the car. Unfortunately there are places (though few)  where Harry Potter is not appropriate. 
• I have an unhealthy and slightly ridiculous obsession to fake cheese and Taco Bell. I know, I KNOW. It's absolutely disgusting, but alas, it is the truth. The former addiction I contribute to growing up with dearest sister A, who shares the same love of unnaturally smooth cheese. You know those little snackpacks that have the fake cheese, crackers and the little red spreader in them? Totally ate one of those on campus a few days ago. Felt like I was five. The latter I attribute to too much eating in the Cougareat freshman year and getting sick of eating everywhere else. I rarely buy food on campus, but when I do it is always Taco Bell. Always. The other day I neglected to bring dinner and was beyond starving. I defaulted to Taco Bell, enjoying my fake cheese. Two hours later I attempted to go running. As soon as I hit the pavement the nausea set in. Taco Bell and running are not friends. Don't think I'll be going there for a while.
• A couple of nights ago I was trying to open a packet of raisinettes that were sealed in plastic. I grabbed the nearest semi-sharp object, a butter knife, which I then proceeded to slice not only through the plastic, but also through my finger. Smart, M, smart.
• Speaking of Harry Potter, my french classroom is the Shrieking Shack. We'll be in the middle of class and all of the sudden there will be this "whoooooo" ghosty sound coming out from what I assume is the vent. When you open the door to walk in, it creeks so SO loudly. Good thing I haven't shown up late yet ...
• I've reverted back to childhood in terms of entertainment tastes. I've been reading 500 books at once lately (which I do not recommend, nor do I usually do, but I must be have been feeling extra indecisive this summer I guess) all of which I have stopped reading upon starting school except for one: Calico Captive. My world was forever enriched by dearest sister E, who introduced me to the book many years ago because she loved it when she was young. Will Miriam ever find her way back to the settlement? Will she be reunited with her sister Susanna who is being enslaved at an Indian camp? Will she choose the gruff Frenchman or the polite and churchy Phineas? I must know! If you love French-Canadians, love triangles, hunky French fur traders, Indians, and sewing, this is the book for you. I find myself coming home after a long day and wanting to curl up in my bed and read my fluff. Also, I've been watching a lot of the Cosby Show lately (thanks to my old roommate Jenni), which brings back all sorts of great memories.
• And finally, I recently watched an amazing Bollywood film, Dil Bole Hadippa with a dear friend which I now have been quoting from for days. I don't know if I have ever laughed so hard at or enjoyed a movie so much as I did this one. *This is the source of the amazing title of this post. The leading man says to his counterpart, "I am falling in love with you buffalo-girl because you make my life very jokey." One day I hope to make a man's life very jokey too.

loves,

M

you know you're a microbiology major when... part V

• You find yourself in the middle of nowhere Provo, in a dark, empty field digging up soil next to the road under what you think is an alfalfa plant, trying to find evidence of the mutualistic relationship between the plant and rhizobia
• you have a class that is solely about pathogens that could be used as bioweapons 
• you find yourself mentally correcting people when they talk about being sick (there is no way you could have strep; you have a cough...)
• you have classes that requiring the reading of novels and you suddenly have no idea how to plan your time or study. You mean I have to read this entire book in three days?
• you are so so so excited for the movie Contagion. Not only that, but everyone you know is excited about it and one of your professor's organizes a microbiology group to go on opening day (which unfortunately I worked during).

As the new semester begins I am finding more reasons to love little life.

cheers,
M

Want to read more?
part i
part ii
part iii
part iv

being in the world

Finally. This post has written itself in many forms in my head hundreds of times over the past month but I can never seem to pin down my words until now. More of the pieces needed to come together and I've taken up more truth from others who have much more wisdom than I.

As of late I have begun to be intimately acquainted with one Mr C. S. Lewis. Over the next 3 1/2 months my life will be essentially and almost entirely consumed with his words. My baptism into his wisdom has been The Screwtape Letters. Screwtape explains to young, naive Wormwood, that one of the worst things that can happen is for humans to learn to live in the present for that is where the Enemy (God) would have us live. The demons would have us live perpetually looking toward the future. In order to do so, they try to blind us to the divine rhythm of regular life and "twist it into a demand for absolute novelty" (p136, Letter 25).

It is easy to yearn for the new, to push on to the next thing, to demand excitement and indeed novelty. We can waste our lives in it. So often, especially during my intense college years, I am guilty of bowing my head and plowing through to survival, only to take one breath and realize the semester is gone.

Life is like an old-time rail journey--delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.

This quote, which is often mistakenly attributed to President Hinckley (although he did quote someone else who said it, source here) has always been slightly unsettling to me. What it says of our expectation of life (to be exciting at every turn) adn the work that it requires to thankful is absolutely true. But what I learn each day on this earth is that the these delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts (the mundane or disappointing moments in life) are filled with infinite beauty. No they are not the beautiful vistas or the bursts of speed, and those moments of awe on a grand scale are precious an important. But the beauty in the small moments is what defines the everyday of your life. And the everyday of your life is what you are made of.

Look at the sky. The clouds have seemed more picturesque and the expansive blue more telling and true. Practice opening your eyes wider to take more of it in. Simplify your life and surround yourself with only that which is necessary or that which brings you happiness (like black cropped pants and owl piggy banks). Abandon homework to bake brownies. Eat cheesecake on the floor in the middle of the night. Read your textbook outside in a sundress. When you walk out of the temple, notices the flowers as you slowly re-enter the world. Write down delightful phases uttered by wacky professors. Count your steps. Dance in your room to that song that makes you smile as you put away your laundry. Look the person you are listening to in the eye and see what God sees as they speak. Notice their funny quirks and notice your own. Look up from your lunch just to people watch. Devour the words that you read. Make connections between each little piece of your life and laugh at how interconnected all the superfluous stuff really is. Write a note to that friend, but write it an unexpected way just to see them smile. Label your food in fridge with things like "M is for magical" or put a pirate patch on the man on the label of your pasta sauce. Live with your heart open. But most of all tell God that you love this everyday. Tell Him you love walking up that steep hill and making a fool of yourself in French class. Take notice of each moment and be thankful. There is joy to be found here. Wonder at your everyday world and it will whisper it's secrets to you.


trying, oh trying to wonder.

M

lovin on

holland mints
black cropped pants
(500) days of summer soundtrack
sunlight
dreaming
watches
the Book of Mormon
tan nail polish
gratitude
french

new

last night, after doing my nightly rituals, I felt it creep up into my room. Please no! But it came. Like a deep, dense fog around my heart. Heavy, unsettling, overwhelming, new.

new apartment, new roommates, new(ish) ward, new calling, new classes, new status as a senior (yay!), new homework expectations (what, I have to 300 books for one class? okay, not 300, but it feels like it), new(ish) language, new stresses, new worries, new fears, new possibilities, new dreams, new failures, new friends, new beginning, new end.

{un}published part ii

rules of life:
growing in life is an interesting thing. It happens slowly. Little by little we all grow up. In each moment, in each choice we are becoming someone. This growth occurs so mintutely often times you don't know it's happening until someone else sees it in your countenance.

but it doesn't always happen that way.

other times it seems like we're on steroids. Things seem to be exploding in our face. Realizations, events, changes, thoughts, moments, struggle become the norm for a short time and choices seem to be shoved in your face right and life. You're head is spinning. You want to raise your hands in defeat, wave your white flag and just be done. Sleeping and eating and thinking and breathing suddenly become optional and things like responding to email or blogging or doing something nice for someone else seem like the biggest tasks in the world.


and yet


there is something so beautiful about those times. it's who you really are. the choices that you make when everything seems to need to be decided at once reveals your deepest self. And the growth, it's measurable. You can breathe the excitement and feel movement in the world. You're on the brink. About to jump off a bridge into ice cold water on a hot summer day or dive into the most delicious cake or learn about who you are and what you are becoming.

***

It was a short hike, although it got the heart pumping and the quads burning. There was a slight breeze as we began the ascent, just enough to make it not too hot. It felt so familiar. I thought the first time I was up there, just before my senior year. It was just as I remembered it.

But how much I have changed.

As time moves ever onward I feel I seem to stay the same, living my life, but not really breathing. Seeing no measurable difference in my heart and my head. And then there are moments like this. When shades of wisdom are slide over my eyes and for a brief moment I can see how far I have come, and how far I have to go doesn't seem as unobtainable as usual.

As soon as we got to the top the wind was pounding. I tried to inhale, but could barely catch a breath as the air rushed over me, twisting around my hair and curling over my jacket. I flipped open my scriptures. I felt like it was my duty to read some sort of ensign/standard/banner/mountain scripture up top that sacred spot. I didn't realize there were so many to choose from. I suddenly felt a closeness to Isaiah. He saw my day, knew it intimately. And he had faith in us.

I also felt a closeness to these two men. They once stood atop this humble peak, also looking over the valley as it would be in our day. Established. Flourishing. A real home for a people that were then without one. A banner, an ensign, a standard to the world. A message of peace, hope, courage, faith, strength, and light.

Beautiful.

***

the well is deep and I cannot reach the bottom.

stars enumerable twinlking beyond my hope

the sands on the sea shore, so numerous I cannot comprehend.

The feeling dissipates, I reach out to grab it. gone. like a dream in the night, fleeting, small, and yet so rich and deep my arm is not long enough to show the depths of it

***
 

Education is important. In fact, a college degree was never an option in my family. It was expected. Expanded our mind is so important. Especially as women.

But there is a season for everything. Right now my season is school. A lot, a LOT of school. And even though sometimes I dream of dropping out and maybe joining this or going on long adventures with all the money I don't have, or just reading all the books that I want to and do my own, selective, non-structured learning, I know that this is my season. And each day as I trudge up the hill to 8 o'clock class in the morning, sit through lecture, worry about my 10 tests and homework assignments, don't ever sleep, never have time to read what I want, seem to be sinking more than swimming, and think of all the fun things people around me get to do. And then I remember that I'm paying a price. And that I am so lucky I get to go to school. That I don't have to worry about how I'm going to pay for it. That I have the opportunity to go on to graduate school. That I don't have to drop out of school because my family needs me to work. I am so lucky.

***

I'm ready

to have an adventure
to jump on the nearest train and travel to the end of the world
to get lost in a city where no one speaks english
to jump on the back of a vespa in the english countryside (preferably with a strapping english chap to hold on to)
to expand my eyes, give them so much to see they are sore from trying to open wider
to run in a field barefoot, the wind washing my troubles away
to laugh until I'm crying
to escape with a good book, my mind learning and growing and understanding things I never thought possible
to have one of those moments when life is so sweet I can feel it. when I would rather be no where but in that moment
to feel like all the hard work is worth it
to truly breathe
to just be

the science behind

A dear friend recently posted this on her blog:

Did you know that you can melt sugar? And that it turns into caramel? 

I cannot tell you how happy it made me to read that. This is the wonder of science. Watching sugar melt is essentially what I've done all summer in my organic chemistry lab class. Okay I didn't watch sugar melt, but whatever we would make that day and then take a melting point reading on, often looked like sugar, or snowflakes, or smelled like laffy taffys. I felt like I was in a cooking class, learning how to make caramel brownies, only my ingredients often included carcinogens or flammable chemicals and my end products weren't brownies but things like 4-tert-butyl-2,6-dinitrophenol.  Or maybe I was in potions class. I kept having lines from Harry Potter run through my head and occasionally my teacher felt like Snape.

I beyond dreaded taking physics. I had escaped four years of high school and three of college  without having to take the subject. Unfortunately the time came, I swallowed my pride, and... completely fell in love with velocity, momentum, circuits, and the buoyancy factor. I loved that I understood (in a very small and simple way) how the world worked better.  I felt like a new way of seeing and thinking was opened up to me with this new knowledge.

Yesterday my nephew and I went to the Bean Museum on campus to see the black widow spider (ironic that we would go to a museum full of dead things just to see the only living one). As we wandered around and Ry's eyes filled with wonder at the crocodiles and prairie dogs, I was flooded with memories of coming to this place as a child. I am eternally grateful for parents who took the time to teach me to love the world around me. I loved shows like zoom or Bill Nye the Science Guy.  My dad and I would take apart old computers and he would show me what each part did. We would go hiking as a family and my mom would stay up late working on science fair projects with me.

Do I think that science is the only important or worthwhile field of study? Absolutely not. But so often I feel like science gets short-changed by "non-science" folk as being dry, boring, difficult, and nerdy. My friends, you can never, ever escape science. People say "science isn't my thing" but I'm afraid that's impossible. Science is everybody's thing. Everything in this world revolves around it from dancing to baking to candle-stick making.  Science is not without difficulty and there are some things that are indeed boring, but a simple understanding of science opens up an amazing world and I cannot stress that enough.

Is science creative? I cannot answer a big enough YES to make you understand enough how much it really is. Science is governed by our current understanding and rules, but anyone who has worked on a science project or in a lab will tell you that half the time everything that you try that should work doesn't and you are left with your own knowledge and guess work to come up with a solution. We only have the knowledge that we do because of the men and women of history were brave and creative enough to try and fail a million times and to learn from each attempt.

So take some time to become acquainted with science. Your life will be full of so much more wonder and joy because of it.

And that is a promise.


loves,

M

language

Some people are born with the first word of a language resting on their tongue though it may take some time before they can taste it.

-The Goose Girl, p5

In my opinion, we are all born with an innate language. Some form of communication that is our native tongue; it speaks to our immortal souls and touches our heart strings in a profound way. For some it is art, others music, dance, sports, numbers, nature, etc. For me it is the written word. 

I am a perpetual writer. At any given time I have four or five "journals" going, all serving different purposes. I write down funny things in my notes in class--things I notice about people, funny things that happened throughout my day, great quotes my professors say. I keep an agenda and tons of to-do lists. When I want to say something important, I write it. When I want to tell someone I love how much they mean to me, it comes in the form of a note or card. I fall in love with books not just because of the stories or meaning that they have, but because of the beautiful language they use. I remember walking into my roommate's room last summer just to read her a passage from a book because I thought the way in which what was said was so beautiful. Songs that mean the most to me often do because of the lyrics of the songs. I find joy in the world around me by writing about it. I cannot get enough of words.

We are often conversant in multiple languages. While I feel the written word is my mother tongue, there are times when music, art, or dance express something that speaks to me in a deep and lasting way. We bridge the gaps of humanity through all of these different types of language. The ability to communicate through so many forms is what makes life beautiful.

And like me, you were born with a word on your tongue. I don't know what word it was. You will grow older and discover it one day without my help.

-The Goose Girl, p6

{un}published part i

I was looking for a particular post in my archives today and was surprised to see how many posts I've started (or even finished) but never published. Most of which I don't remember writing. I decided that despite the fact that they are mere fragments of thoughts, they deserve to be heard, so I am starting a series of posts (in no particular groupings) to free them from their cages, unchanged from how I found them.

enjoy.

***

I went running with my sister today. I although I begrudgingly agreed to come along on the phone, I was secretly grateful that she asked if I would go with her. I really needed a run. Despite loving to run, I have been absolutely terrible at it this past year. I've been more sporadic than a [insert funny comparison here]. But I need to be better.

As we pounded the pavement toward the end and I wanted to quit so badly, I thought about each step I was taking. Each step got me closer to that lamp post. The lamp post was closer to the corner, the corner closer to our final destination. If I could just make it to the lamp post, I could make it to the corner and if I could make it to the corner, I could make it home. I laughed as I thought of these mental games I play with myself as I run.

***

looked up to see "radius of the earth" in my google search box
I'm obsessed with cheddar sunchips. so so so yummy
I see things and think I am just so curious what that tastes like. So I buy it. Exhibit A: the cinnabon snack bar. Yes, it really tasted like a cinnabon.

***

The last few days a melancholy fog seems to have settled around my heart. I tried to pin point the reason for this and I came up with a number of good guesses, but then it hit me: change.

Change is necessary and good, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it is painful, engrossing, consuming, stretching, taxing and tiring. I can feel it in the air, just around the corner. I'm excited for change, but I am acutely aware of just how much I love what I'm leaving behind.

She is moving to a far off place and while I am giddy with excitement for the adventures she will encounter, I'm realizing each day how much I am going to miss her.

***

The past couple of weeks I've felt the need to simplify my life. To rid myself of unnecessary possessions. clean-up, de-junk, organ-ize. (sorry, I couldn't help myself). I finished with my apartment room, so the other day I headed home to start on my other room. I thought it would take a quick moment. I had gone through that stuff so many times, each time I moved in or out of the house. I waded through a sea of papers and old books for 4 hours and only managed to get through 3/4 of the room, filling a whole corner full of things to be taken away to someone who actually needs them. It was a liberating feeling, letting go of so many things I had been holding on to. But...

I've always known I was a pack rat at heart, I just happen to be an organized one. Usually when I go through my "junk" I look at an object for a moment. I consider its current uses, its sentimental value, and I allow my mind to wander. I begin to think of all the scenarios in which that thing would be useful in the future. I weigh the current use/sentimental value/future use against the space I would free up if I disposed of it, and then I make a decision. But this time was different. I seemed immune to all the uses of my old possessions, and instead felt as if they were just space wasted in my brain. I realized that some of the things I had been holding on to for all these years really held no value to me. I had just felt like I ought to keep them. Exhibit A: the state quarter collection. I had every state quarter except maybe 5 of the last ones sitting in a dinky case I got from the book fair. Was I an avid coin collector? no. Did I even feel attachment at all? nope. I only felt a tinge of sadness popping all those quarters out of the case because it represented a lot of time spent coming that close to having a complete collection.

I realized that this is part of my putting away childish things. Getting rid of the unnecessary

***

dear

Dear guest lecturer,

Thank you for saying, "since the cold war was still running hot..." It made my day.

Sincerely,

M



Dear Harold B. Lee Library,

Thanks for employing me for the last two years. I really appreciate that you've given me great stories to tell about crazy patrons. Thanks for providing me with income, for letting me listen to great music, books, radio and talks while I work among your shelves, giving me an opportunity to live among the books, and being the setting for some really great and embarrassing moments, not to mention the reason I've been asked out several times...

yours,

M



Dear Ryan,

I cannot wait to play with you next weekend. Pretty much I think you're the greatest.

love,
Aunty sis



Dear roommates,

Thanks for finally coming back. Although I have to admit it was nice to have a clean apartment and know that when I put something down it would be there when I came back. Nonetheless, it's nice to live among people again.

kisses,

lonely soul in 306



Dear P, A, and D,

I love all three of you. I am so happy you came over last night. I couldn't think of a better way to spend the evening then with you three. I love that we are still friends after all these years.

loves,

M


Dear molten lava cakes,

you are perfection--easy to make, rich, and delicious. I don't know how I survived so long without you.

Sincerely,

You're biggest fan


Dear optimism,

Thanks for being my trusty go-to-gal all these years. After a good cry, you are always there to pick up the pieces, make a new plan, tell me why my life is great, chase away regret, and get my feet moving again. We make a good pair.

cheers,

M



Dear running,

I love that we've been spending more consistent time together under the expansive sky. It's a beautiful world.

M


Dear wait wait don't tell me,

Thanks for making a free podcast. I love listening to you to pass the time as I work even if I look ridiculous laughing to myself among the shelves.

M


Dear leopard print,

Thanks for never going out of style. Although I said that about you in 7th grade, I was glad to find out today that I continue to be right.

love

My 7th grade self

lemon drop

"'Would you care for a lemon drop?' 'A what?' 'A lemon drop. They're a muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.'"

Why yes, Dumbledore, I would love a lemon drop.

mmmm.

M

Running is an amazingly cathartic experience for me. Side note: I realize that it is not for everyone, but I do think that everyone has something that makes them feel this way and if you don't please (I beg of you!) find something that does. I have had some of my most profound, spiritual, "ah-ha", thought-provoking experiences while running. At any given time I have felt heartache, triumph, pain, exhilaration, joy, freedom and despair while running. I have learned so much about myself, humanity, God, and nature because of running. It clears my head, relieves stress, empowers, calms, enlightens and frees me. I feel more alive when I run.

A few years ago I ran the Wasatch Back with my sister and some of her friends. As I neared the end of my first, longest and hottest, run I reached a hill that I had not been anticipating. My heart dropped as I reached the bottom and looked up. I cannot do this. One of the women on my team jumped out of the car as I approached, no doubt with my heartache etched all over my face, and without a moment's hesitation said, "hey, I'll run it with you." My first response was to decline her offer. I had to run this hill, only me. But she insisted. I don't think I would have made it up without her. 

After that run, I sat in the back of the truck with another teammate as we cheered on our next runner. We talked about how running is so much like life. We can cheer each other on, we can lift and help, but ultimately each one of us must take those steps on our own. One of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands has one of my favorite lines, "but in the end the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself." When we run we push ourselves beyond what we think we can do (think this quote). It takes bravery and strength and it is something that you must do alone. What I realized those two crazy days of running in the heat, middle of the night, on no sleep, after sitting in a car for hours on end, was the power of those steps we all took alone to bind us together. I felt such a bond to those people around me. Everyone was cheering other runners on. Yelling words of encouragement, offering snacks and water. We were all apart of this race whether on the same team or not. We all had to run those steps, we understood what it felt like, and we were all bound because of it. Yes, I had to take those steps and in order to finish my run, only I could take them. But I then, as I often do now, I underestimated the power of people standing by my side, telling me that I could do it.

As I think about my life, I see those people that are watching out for me, praying for me, encouraging me, loving me. Yes we all must take steps in life alone, but without others (including and most especially the Lord) we would often fall short of finding the courage, heart and strength to carry on. There is power in relationships, in love and in people that transcends despair, doubt, and fear.

****

Yesterday I went for a short run before it was back to homework, homework, homework. I ran up to the bell tower. Side note: it's the perfect short run. You have two hills, a great view of campus, and stairs to do when you get to the top, then it's all down hill on the way back. When I reached the tower the sun was setting and everything was lit in the illumination of twilight. I looked over campus and thought, and so it begins, my last year at BYU. I thought about how much I have grown and changed, the experiences I've had, the people that I've met-oh the people that I've met! I would not trade in my BYU experience for anything, every joyous and heart-wrenching moment. I thought about how in a year I will know where I'll be going to graduate school. I'll have a new home and a new place to find joy in. This is the beginning of the end. Really I started doing my lasts this spring when I got my last ecclesiastical endorsement, but now, with my final year drawing closer, it is beginning to feel real. I have loved where I've been but now it is time to turn my head and my heart to a new time and a new place.

****

I have spent essentially my entire life in school. So much of what we term the "formative years" are spent in practice for real life (hence why we call them the formative years). We spend what seems like eternity becoming, learning, practicing, theorizing to then spend the rest of our lives doing and being (not that you do not or cannot learn or become later in life). So often I am so anxious to free myself from the bonds of school. The work it requires is never done. I itch to be doing something, not just talking about, learning or practicing it. 

Several weeks ago an excellent talk on freedom was given in sacrament meeting. The topic was given in light of the patriotic holiday, but rather than speak on "freedom from" as the speaker termed it, he chose to speak on the "freedom to." When we do not have capabilities or skills we are in bondage. We do not have the choice to give of time or talents or skills or heart that we do not have. But, when we learn and grow and practice, we are then free to choose to share of the things in which we have learned and grown in and perfected. Often, as we all are, I am anxious to get out there and make a difference, change the world, and help people. There are often small (but desperately important) things that we already have the freedom to do to help those around us. But when that help requires skills beyond our current ability, there is a time of learning, waiting, preparing, and sacrificing. When that preparatory period is over, we have more choices to help and act than we did before because we have the skills required. We are released from the chains of ignorance and helplessness and we have the freedom to act.

As I look toward the future I see many preparatory years still ahead. School can be overwhelming and frustrating. While I yearn to set my feet in the real word, I am beginning to understand the importance of this time in which I must keep my eyes wide and my mind open. I am giving myself more opportunities to act, help, and be free.

More on the subject can be found here, here and here.

M

citizens of the world

Allow me to indulge myself and step up onto the soap box for a minute. This is my blog after all.

I love the 4th of July; it has always been one of my favorite holidays. As I was enjoying our small town parade, watching floats with beauty queens and clone troopers with flags go by, I couldn't help but think about what a beautiful country we live in. I love that we are free to speak and act as we wish. There are so many people in the world right now fighting for such freedoms (think Egypt, Libya, Syria).

However, too often we use the freedom to think and speak openly to make close-minded assumptions about the world and the way in which it should (or does) run. As Americans (or as anyone belonging to any culture) we have a certain mentality about the right way to do things. We champion the individual spirit, efficiency, and hard work. We have a certain way of viewing the world. While everyone from anywhere has a certain way of looking at the world, Americans tend to have a harder time breaking out of that model to see that there are other ways of doing things. It's hard to imagine that there are other (and equally good) ways of viewing life and how to live it. Sometimes what we think is the right way is indeed just one of many right ways.

So this patriotic season, I challenge you to use your freedom to speak and think as you wish to dare to think differently. See the world in a new light and see others and their way of viewing life and work as things of beauty.

when I grow up

I want to be Kate Middleton.


love love love her style.


That's all.

M

PS please disregard the first picture on the link. I do not want to be a cowboy. She looks divine in all the other pictures however.

you must

read (or listen) to this. No one cannot help but smile and get lost in the charming characters and lovely language of this book.

Please.
You'll be doing yourself a favor.

You Know You're a Science Major When... (part iv)

While my list is not limited to just micro majors this time, it still belongs with my other installments:

• you have to have your hair back and wear closed-toe shoes and long pants EVERYDAY to school in the summer because of lab classes (as a result my wearable wardrobe has dwindled. I never realized how much I didn't wear those things until that's all I could wear)
• you spend $600 on books for a semester and think that is the best deal ever
• you have this natural bond with anyone you meet who is also a science major. They have been through what you've been through: Ochem, chem lab, physics, cell bio, genetics, etc. They understand your frazzled look, the glaze over your eyes, the chemicals still left on your hands, the 5 books in your arms, the NMR sheets sticking out of your binder. You have felt each other's pain (and occasional triumph). They are just as crazy as you are
• you joke about getting cancer from the chemicals in lab and then have a lively and informed discussion about all the things that are known carcinogens that are in the lab like it's no big deal
• People ask you what your major is and when you respond they exclaim, "ugh! that sounds terrible" "yes, yes, that's why I chose it you see, because it is terrible"

And a few that only a micro major would really understand:

• you see little seed pods that have fallen off of a tree and think to yourself, "those look just like the larvae that I spend two months injecting with the plague last semester"
• you go to the doctor and when you tell them that your cough was non-productive and that you have general malaise they say "okay, okay, what's your major?"

still loving little life and science (most days)

M

long day

I just purchased (and am hastily consuming) more junk food than I ever have in my college career.

Potato chips?check
Candy bar? check
Soda? check
cinnamon bagel? check

this, my dears, is the mark of just how long of a day its been.

my blood sugar just went up exponentially.

gotta love college.

M

jealous

Don't worry, this was totally my home for the last two weeks.

I believe

that bananas become ripe solely so I can make banana muffins with them.

yum.

"Like I say, you stick around and don't let nothing happen."
"You can depend on me," said Tom.
"It's not you I worry about," said Douglas. "It's the way God runs the world."
Tom thought about this for a moment.
"He's all right, Doug," said Tom. "He tries."

Dandelion Wine, p112

break in

 

I found this picture today on my camera dated from earlier in the school year. Apparently it was a busy time, or maybe someone was looking for something...

love it

I love that I find myself writing thank you notes on the day the world is supposed to end.

Guess I'm just trying to tie up any loose ends.

M

heart

I struggle sometimes to know what words I want to fill these pages. I've composed hundreds of posts in my head that I've never posted. I don't always know what I want this space to be. My thoughts yes, but on what? I never know if what I write is worth reading. Is it too personal or not personal enough? What's my motive? What image of myself and my life and my thoughts am I trying to convey? Who, dear readers, am I?

Several times I've thought about deleting mjots. I just never post on it as much as I want. I look at these design blogs or blogs of people who have hundreds of followers and I just don't see myself putting my life out there like that. So often a false sense of reality and life is portrayed or what is posted seems superficial and meaningless. But every time I seriously think about getting rid the suki diaries, I can't. I want this space to become something that is worth reading. Me, being true and real.

What follows is personal. Probably the most personal thing I have ever and will ever post on mjots.

Today I was supposed to do one of the biggest and scariest things I probably would have ever done. Today my life was supposed to have taken a defined and monumental course. I was supposed to feel excitement, anxiety, fear, relief, gratitude.

Today I was supposed to take the MCAT.

Rewind five months and you could not have imagined my excitement as I poured over the MSAR, looking at potential medical schools. Everything seemed to be coming together. I had the whole thing planned. And it was actually happening.

The few months after that seemingly golden time were (are) probably the hardest period of time I've had to go through. Details aside, plans changed. I took on too much and I couldn't handle it all. I knew in February that I wouldn't be taking the MCAT today. Yet, I held onto my spot for months afterward. I wasn't ready to let go.

All week I've been thinking about my alternate reality: what I'd be doing if I had really taken the MCAT today. Oh how different my life would be.

I wish I could say that it's all behind me. That I'm on a new course and I can see why I was derailed so jarringly. But the wound is still fresh, the infection acute.

In life we often face disappointments. Some are big and some are small. But guess what? Life goes on. We breathe in and out and one day it doesn't hurt so bad.

I'm getting there.

bradbury had it right

Everyone has a method to their writing. When I read this passage from the forward of the lovely book Dandelion Wine, I felt my feelings on the process were captured most perfectly with Bradbury's profound words:

[...] like every beginner, I thought you could beat, pummel, and thrash an idea into existence. Under such treatment, of course, any decent idea folds up its paws, turn on its back, fixes its eyes on eternity, and dies. It was with great relief, then, that in my early twenties I floundered into a word-association process in which I simply got out of bed each morning walked to my desk, and put down any word or series of words that happened along in my head. I would then take arms against the word, or for it, and bring on an assortment of characters to weigh the word and show me its meaning in my own life. An hour or two hours later, to my amazement, a new story would be finished and done. The surprise was total and lovely. I soon found that I would have to work this way for the rest of my life.

home country

As I’ve grown up in the world, home has become less of a place and more of the people that I love and am surrounded by. While I grew up in the same house all my life, since moving away for college, it doesn’t feel like my real home anymore. In it's place, I’ve created many homes over the years in various places, falling in love with different landscapes, picturesque views, and most of all people that I love more than anything in this world.

Several days ago I was flying, soaring above the world, observing human life as if from a dream. I couldn’t help but spend hours looking out the window, amazed at this alternate world of brilliant blue and white. Just as we began our descent into Salt Lake, we turned north, the clouds parted, and we flew over Utah Lake. What met my eyes were lush rolling green hills guarded by snow-tipped blue mountains--both a result of our wet and late spring. My lips parted in amazement, my hand pressed up against the window--willing the plane to push west so I could get a better view, my heart filled with more light than it has in months, and my mind felt at ease. This is my home country.

As many places as I will travel, as many people I will come to love and hold dear, as many replacement homes I will create like nests around my heart, this little place will always be where my feet feel most comfortable taking step after step, where my eyes love to rest. As much as I admire the limestone of Jerusalem or the trees of the East,  I will always call the mountains and valleys of dear Utah my home country.

F-I-N-A-L-S

I love finals week. Okay, not so much, but I'm trying to stay positive.

But I really do love finals week because it gives me a "get out of jail free" card for any sort of atrocious thing I do to my body.

Get two hours of sleep one night? eh, it's finals.
Have brownies and Dr. Pepper for breakfast? eh, it's finals.
Wear random things from your closest that make you look like a homeless person? eh, it's finals.
Don't shower for a few days? eh, it's...

The list goes on. And somehow everyone accepts "It's finals" as a valid excuse for any sort of odd behavior. I feel like I should milk finals week (and the week leading up to finals week) for all it's worth. I'm going to go eat some chocolate :)

choices

Work these days brings hours of computer work or shifting among the shelves. In order to pass the time with my brain still intact, I listen to books. They fill my mind with thoughts and ideas that are simply beautiful. I ran out of books that I hadn't listened to (or had interest in) that belonged to my parents, so I reverted to the default: HP.

I think I've listened/read each book a thousand times, but each time I still fall in love with the story and words all over again. (yeah, I'm twelve, I know). Lately The Order of the Phoenix (Okay please just click this link and appreciate whoever spent the time to make this. Lovely.) has been filling my ears. I'm near the end, having just finished the intense fight in the ministry of magic.

As I listened with pained ears to Harry make the mistake of believe that Voldemort really had Sirius Black, I realized yet one more reason why I love the books so much. Rowling shows us that all choices have consequences-even good ones. I wanted to badly for Harry to listen to Hermione's hesitation. I wanted Sirius to walk into the kitchen when Harry checks Grimmauld Place to see if he's there. I wanted so badly for Snape to stop Harry in the forest. I wanted something to change and for Sirius to live. Harry did the right thing-he showed he would do anything for those he loved so everything should turn out, right? But even though Harry had the best of intentions, Sirius still died. And as painful as that is, it's just like real life. When we act and make choices, there are often unforeseen consequences. And even if we have the best intentions and we do the "right" thing, it might not turn out the way we hope.

Often in movies and books everything goes wrong only to be turned right at the end, with nothing lost. But think about the books and movies you truly love-the ones that made you think and feel and be. They often don't end with every little piece of the story neatly wrapped up in polka-dot wrapping paper with a satin ribbon on top.  We relate to these stories because they mimic our own lives. There is a price to be paid. Always. But that my friends is what makes life so great. When we hurt and struggle, when we cry and bleed, it only makes those moments when the world is good and our hearts light that much sweeter. We become more.

"So, there I was, tied to an altar made from outdated encyclopedias, about to get sacrificed to the dark powers by a cult of evil librarians"

I can tell this is going to be one good book.

tired,
M

today

Spending time with those that I love most (and also thinking of those that I love most who were not with us) reminds me of the family that quietly changed the world many years ago. Today I celebrate the day.

Carol Of Joy

Green leaves all fallen, withered and dry;
Brief sunset fading, dim winter sky.
Lengthening shadows,
Dark closing in...

Then, through the stillness, carols begin!

Oh fallen world, to you is the song--
Death holds you fast and night tarries long.
Jesus is born, your curse to destroy!
Sweet to your ears, a carol of Joy!
Pale moon ascending, solemn and slow;
Cold barren hillside, shrouded in snow;
Deep, empty valley veiled by the night;
Hear angel music--hopeful and bright!
Oh fearful world, to you is the song--
Peace with your God, and pardon for wrong!
Tidings for sinners, burdened and bound--

A carol of joy!

A Saviour is found!

Earth wrapped in sorrow, lift up your eyes!
Thrill to the chorus filling the skies!
Look up sad hearted--witness God's love!
Join in the carol swelling above!
Oh friendless world, to you is the song!
All Heaven's joy to you may belong!
You who are lonely, laden, forlorn--
Oh fallen world!
Oh friendless world!

To you,

A Saviour is born!

you know you're a microbiology major when (part III)

During your international health final it asks: "List three causes of cancer as discussed in our lecture on chronic diseases."

And you immediately think:
1. tumor suppressor genes acquiring loss of function mutation
2. chromosomal rearrangement causing an increase in transcription of proto-oncogenes
3. mutations in p53 resulting in unregulated cell proliferation

Instead of:
1. tobacco
2. alcohol
3. living a long time

oops. wrong lecture. wrong class.

I think my brain has been permanently altered to science mode.

done done DONE with finals. hooray!

M

ps for part I and part II click here and here

awake

[...] Awake, and hear the words which I shall tell thee; for behold, I am come to declare unto you the glad tidings of great joy.

For the Lord hath heard thy prayers, and hath judged of thy righteousness, and hath sent me to declare unto thee that thou mayest rejoice; and that thou mayest declare unto thy people, that they may also be filled with joy.

For behold, the time cometh, and is not far distant, that with power, the Lord Omnipotent who reigneth, who was, and is from all eternity to all eternity, shall come down from heaven among the children of men, and shall dwell in a tabernacle of clay, and shall go forth amongst men, working mighty miracles, such as healing the sick, raising the dead, causing the lam to walk, the blind to receive their sight, the deaf to hear, and curing all manner of diseases.

And he shall cast out devils, or the evil spirits which dwell in the hearts of the children of men.

And lo, he shall suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death; for behold, blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people.

And he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the Creator of all things from the beginning; and his mother shall be called Mary.

And lo, he cometh unto his own, that salvation might come unto the children of men even through faith on his name; and even after all this they shall consider him a man, and say that he hath a devil, and shall scourge him, and shall crucify him.

And he shall rise the third day from the dead; and behold, he standeth to judge the world; and behold, all these things are done that a righteous judgment might come upon the children of men.

Mosiah 3:3-10

fini

Why is it during finals my mind always races? Thoughts fly by so fast I can't even pick one out from the rest.

No they aren't thoughts of Haydn's Surprise Symphony or how alpha-ketoglutarate is converted into glutamate or projectile motion or even the top 10 chronic diseases in the developing world or how p53 prevents unregulated cell growth.

They are to do lists, ideas, goals, lyrics, quotes from books or movies, dreams--basically everything but what I should have learned these last three months.

And they won't leave me alone.

I wrote down as much as I could sift through the other day in an attempt to draw the thoughts from my mind and let it settle into studying. I must admit it helped a little, but they are still there waiting for me to finish so I can give them the attention they believe they deserve.

Until Friday.

M

ps finals week always brings out the best in me: my roommate walked in to the apartment to find me on the floor in my room, books strewn about, "typing" on my computer with red mittens on. "What?! my hands were cold!"

quiet

I've been very intrigued by the story of Liu Xiaobo, the Chinese dissident who recently won the Nobel Peace Prize. It makes me wish I knew more about Chinese policy and history. It makes me wish I knew a great many things. I found an NPR transcript of a speech he gave at one of his trials. If you have a few minutes you really should read the whole thing. But if you can't, here is what struck me:

Hatred can rot away at a person's intelligence and conscience. Enemy mentality will poison the spirit of a nation, incite cruel mortal struggles, destroy a society's tolerance and humanity, and hinder a nation's progress toward freedom and democracy. That is why I hope to be able to transcend my personal experiences as I look upon our nation's development and social change, to counter the regime's hostility with utmost goodwill, and to dispel hatred with love.

I look at men like him and wonder how could you ever have such courage? Standing up for something no matter the consequences. He reminds me a little of Danny Seidemann (read this post) with a moral compass that he must be faithful to, no matter where it takes him. There are countless others I could name. How do they have such strength, courage, and drive to stand up when it seems no one else can? How can they fight for something even when they know it means losing everything?

Where does that leave us? Everyday people leading simple lives. I watched You've Got Mail the other day with a dear friend. This quote has been swimming in my mind the last week or so as I've contemplated the life I am creating.

Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void. 

 I, too, am sending this off into the void.

M

subliminal

I was doing some research for a paper I am writing on Mozart's The Magic Flute. Into the search box I typed "Mozart magic glue" 


Tired much?

Cell Biology+Mormons

There are just so many great things about this quote I found in my Cellular Biology book while studying for my test today:

"There are some human subgroups whose way of life substantially reduces the total cancer death rate among individuals of a given age. Under the current conditions in the United States and Europe, approximately one in five people will die of cancer.  But the incidence of cancer among strict Mormons in Utah (but, importantly, not among non-practicing members of the same family), who avoid alcohol, coffee, cigarettes, drugs, and casual sex, is only about half the incidence among Americans in general"

Sorry those of you who are Mormon and not living in Utah; you're cancer rate is just as high as the rest of them.

M

21 minutes and 33 seconds...

And I'm officially on Thanksgiving break. Bless you teachers for cancelling class tomorrow.
Since I don't have to work this break, I've been thinking a lot about how I want to spend my time.

This thanksgiving break I'm going to:

•  read. Still trying to get through this (I haven't given up yet!) and this and I have issues of this that have been piling up
• run. Mr. jogging and I have missed each other so
• spend time with crazy little people I love so much that I would give my left AND right kidney for them
• finally see this
• go hiking. I realize that it is freezing outside, but I really really want to hike. Just wondering who I can drag along with me...
• clean out my closet
• think. About what I want, what I need, who I am, where I'm going, how I'm doing, about those I love
• breathe in and out

It's going to be a good break here in sleepy little Provo,

M

corruption

A dad walked in to the cougareat with his daughter and her two friends:
"Now when we get to the stadium you'll need to put your treats in your pockets"
"Like at the movie theater!"
"yeah we do that all the time!"

Oh how easy it is to corrupt the next generation.
M

Note: I may or may not have eaten Cold Stone icecream in a movie theater several weeks ago... When we asked if we could have lids the guy at the counter said "you're taking it into the theater huh? we get that all the time..."

alive

yes. I am alive.
I know that I haven't acted like it lately.
I've semi-dropped off the face of planet.

At the beginning of the summer I panicked. I had too much time on my hands just working. But life went on and I adjusted to my unstructured schedule filling it with all sorts of things to keep me busy, but balanced.

Now I can hardly remember what it felt like, but I miss it. I love school, but the work it requires is never done. It's like the ghosts in pacman, constantly trying to catch me as I helplessly eat little dots in a maze. I guess the dots would be homework? Okay, poor comparison.

I've been thinking a whole lot lately. Which is usually a bad thing because usually that means I've been worrying a whole lot. And I have, I won't lie; it's part of my nature. But I've also been doing a lot of productive thinking. I've been thinking a lot about why.

Why I am where I am today. Why I choose to live my life the way that I do. Why I love the gospel. Why I'm a microbiology major. Why I want to work in international development. Why I read the news. Why I want to be a better person than I am today. Why I am so often alone. Why I seem to be more on top of things than I usually am (despite the bad test score today. Yay for the drop lowest test score policy!). Why this semester what I am learning seems worth spending all the time I spend learning it. Why I need to have more faith, patience, courage, and heart as the Lord slowly unfolds his plan for me. Why I am so bad at having those qualities.

These questions swimming in my head don't really have answers yet. But they've caused me to reflect. To see more clearly who I am and where I am going. So often we act without really seeing or knowing what we are doing and more importantly why we are doing what we are doing. We find the superficial answers easy enough. I do my homework because if I don't I will get a bad grade in the class. But there is always a deeper answer. There is a motive, a driving force, a foundational and fundamental belief.

The answers are all there, buried deep below in the fleshy tables of our hearts. Look for them. I am.

M

looking good

What I love about this semester so far:

• My Cell Biology teacher looks like Alton Brown from Good Eats
• Every time I drive to my apartment I drive to the Elms first and then I have to back track
• I've done all my reading for every class 
• I've come to be known as the invisible roommate because I'm never home. Class and work from 9:00 to 7:00 baby!
• Once again I have been to the bookstore at least 4 times and I didn't even buy most of the books from there
• I've been to the hospital more in the last two weeks getting ready to volunteer than I have in my entire life
• It takes me 5 minutes to get to campus
• My sacrament meeting is in the cougarette practice room (it's actually a little creepy. There are mirrors in the back so if you stand up at the podium, you can see yourself talking)
• I was in the "first day of class slideshow" some guy followed me around at work for 15 minutes taking pictures of me

Found

I forgot about this post I wrote a while back. Ironic considering it's subject matter:

Often I forget how easily I forget. Which is why I keep forgetting. Wait, what was I talking about?

As easily as my mind wanders while having a conversation about healthcare reform, my heart and head and self seem to forget everything they ever seemed to learn about the world.

How did I forget the transcription method of poxviridae?
How did I forget that I was done with that. That I had moved on, I wasn't going there anymore?
How did I forget how passionate I am about development?
How did I forget that it always takes time to adjust?
How did I forget the three million lessons on faith and patience and charity and pain and fear and courage and hope that I have learn these 21 years of living?

It's an integral part of human nature to forget. Being mortal somehow lessens our capacity to keep all we have learned in the forefront of our minds. Think of the things we would know if we never forgot. Think of the time it would save, the lessons we wouldn't have to learn, the pain we wouldn't have to endure.

However, I think that our ability to forget is also an integral part of the plan. We would never know the joy of coming back into that knowledge, of repenting. The Lord allows us to forget so we can experience the beauty of being reminded. I like the idea of forgetting because it implies that it is still somewhere within you, waiting for the siren song to summon it into illumination.

M

back

Back to school. Back to tests, quizzes, homework and reading, reading, reading. Back to masses of people, long lines, and a busy busy library. Back to the stress, the inadequacy, the failures and triumphs. Back to the long days and sleepless nights. Back to the odd eating habits, the study spots, and the bookstore. Back to wondering about what I'm doing with my life (or not doing with my life), to the feeling like there is always more I could do, to wishing I could just give up, to knowing that I can't. Back.

Back to school, yes, but there are quite a few things in my life right now that I haven't come back to because they are new.

New apartment
New roommates (oh how I miss my old one(s)!)
New ward
New calling
New and harder classes
New language
New coworkers
New volunteer position
New goals
New.

Coming back to the old craziness amidst beginning the new can be hard. And lonely. But these times of crazy loneliness lend themselves to prayer, reflection, and a dependence on the Lord that is beautiful.

And so it begins.


M

measure for measure

Casually picked up a MCAT prep book off the shelf today. The size of a phonebook. Even had the same type of pages.

Totally freaked out.

I want to be a doctor. But do I want to be a doctor a phonebook's worth?

Maybe I'll be an interpretive dancer instead. No massive books involved.

M

favorite

One of my favorite rituals these days is going to BBC News and viewing this. They have a new one up almost everyday. I think all of the pictures are so beautiful and telling. And most of it makes me want to travel.


SO. BAD.


M

Reflections on Moving Out

I've spent more time away from my house in the last three days since I "moved home" than I have there.

My room is a federally declared disaster zone. I spent the last three days looking for my bobby pins. I think they've been swallowed.

I got to choose whatever I wanted at the grocery store to eat and I didn't have to pay for it. Lovely. And spoiled.

I laid down to go to bed Saturday and sighed with delight. Has my mattress always been this comfortable? Spending a year sleeping on an Elms' one sure has made me appreciate a good mattress.

I get to shower with a fleet of pirates courtesy of grandkid bath time.

I'm pretty sure I'll develop a hernia. (okay, okay I'm not going to develop a hernia. It just felt like I would on Saturday). Between moving 1/2 my stuff Friday to my car and then to my house and then doing the same on Saturday and hauling bag after bag of trash from our apartment, I am TIRED of moving things. This is where I lament about the fact that I am a muggle. Bummer.

Back at ma maison,
M

When I grow up

I want to be him or him.

I think they rock.

M

Today

Today I woke up, just laying in my bed thinking, and slipping in and out of the dream world. Suddenly I blinked and it was an hour later. Time had fallen into some black hole, robbing me of using it to be productive.

Today I took down the maps that had lovingly graced our walls for the last four months. It required little effort, except for the few I had hung using "removable" picture hanging tape. Thanks to Audge's ingenuity and a hair dryer, they came off with only a few bad tears. Everything looked so stark, just the beginning of what it will transform into over the next few days as we all move out and on.

Today I walked to work feeling tired and hot. Just as I was about to reach the library I felt like I was going to burn alive. Why is it always that way: right before deliverance destruction seems the most eminent.

Today I helped a man who made me feel belittled. It shouldn't have effected me as much as it did, and I'm not sure if he treated me that way because I am a woman, but it felt that way. It was the first time I have ever felt that way. Sure I've endured countless jeers and taunting remarks on the street in Jerusalem, but somehow this was different. It made me never want to feel that way ever again.

Today I wrote down some passages from a book that have made my head spin with ideas I had never fathomed. This is why I read, I thought.

Today I had a conversation with a friend I haven't talked to in a long time. It felt so good not to have to try to think of something to say, to just let the words flow naturally. Then the conversation was cut short and I was left empty and hollow, wishing that maybe just maybe if it had lasted longer...


Today.

M

wish I might

Dear Universe,

Can I please have an occasion to buy one of these?
Can I have a reason to jump on a plane to here?
Could I maybe be able to eat as much of this as I wanted and not be subject to this?

Oh and if it's not too much of a hassle, could you throw in one of these?

Much Appreciated.

Regards,
M

victory

everything.

The Monday to do list has been slayed, conquered, overcome, dominated, ruled.

Tomorrow the battle begins again.


M

If I was one of those people who updated her facebook status...

Today it would say:

Melissa Parkinson is full of teenage angst.



Oh how I hate the dating world,
M

word

In the book Eat Pray Love, one of the many interesting souls she meets a long the way tells her that each person and place has one word that describes them. After a discussion about what her current location's word would be, he inevitably asks her what her word would be. At that point she has not yet found herself, and has therefore not yet found her word.

It was only natural after reading that that I would think about what my "word" would be. I found my mind combing, but there are just too many and not just one that seems to encompass everything that I am (or anything that any of us are). So I let it go.

Since Eat Pray Love I have embarked on much more daunting literary feats, settling into the 986 page The Brothers Karamazov. It's been a rough beginning. I have always had a fond spot in my heart for Dostoyevsky, but when it seems like 40 pages of the 103 you've read so far are about Christian punishment and the state, it begins to bog you down. I picked it up tonight after a prolonged absence (absence makes the heart grow fonder right?) and stumbled upon a lovely scene. One of the monks is speaking about one of the brothers and labels him with a word. " That is his designation and his entire inner essence." Unfortunately for the brother his word is voluptuary. It made me smile inside that a 19th century Russian monk had the same philosophy about people as a 21st century Italian man.

We are all more alike than we think.

M

for the beauty of the earth

This morning I walked out into the crisp air. The light slid in around me, slowly waking a sleeping world. It was still quiet, which seemed to make my senses keener and I felt like I could almost taste the scene around me-the bright green trees, the birds chirping, the fresh morning smell. It gave me a spring in my step as I walked across the cross walk, the only soul in this morning world. As I started up the stairs I lifted my head up and my eyes beheld a lone hot air balloon popping out amongst the trees. My heart skipped a beat and I thought: summer. It really is summer.

loving right now,
M

food for thought

We had planned for weeks and weeks to get the roommates together to take a trip to this place. Finally our dream came to fruition. I had to meet them there, racing home from work in record time, even turning down a boy to be with them (that's what I call roommate love).

Pungent, foreign, rich, vibrant, smells enveloped me and I knew I had come to the right place.

I seem to be indifferent about Chinese, Thai, or other Asian food, but Indian holds a fond place in my heart. We all had the lunch buffet (which I would definitely recommend if you've never had Indian because you can try a little of everything). I walked up to grab food and I was greeted by a rich array of deep oranges, rich browns, lovely greens, reds, and yellows, together beautiful symphony of color and food.

As I was being wrapped up in the warm delight of naan, chicken tikka marsala and rice, I allowed my mind to wander to a place it hadn't in a while. A place I forgotten I loved to be. A place where I dreamed of being in India. Of traveling and exploring, growing and learning, feeling and becoming. I longed to jump on a plane and be off. But somewhere deep inside whispered that this is not the season for such a journey. But soon. Oh how I hate seasons.

learning to love this season,
M

the law runneth forward and back

We follow rules because they keep order, they provide safety, and they prevent loss and heartache. Rules give us the framework in which we live our lives. Without rules, we would be lost. Rules serve to carry out law. And without law, we would be stripped of our most precious gift. Rules are instruments with which we can use our agency to bring us happiness. We may choose whatever we wish, but rules let us know what is right and what is wrong.

But sometimes we must break rules. Sometimes one rule which falls under one law is not congruent with another rule we wish to abide by. Both are rules, and both designed to keep us happy and free. We then are left to choose which rule we want to follow. Because we are fallible, we will make a wrong choice. Sometimes we follow this rule and break that one when we should have broken the former and followed the latter. Sometimes we choose to save our own skins by sticking to a certain set of rules when we should have set aside those rules to follow a higher law. But when is it right to follow those rules, to put your foot down? When is it right to just let them go? What consequences are we willing to accept?

just thinking,
M

S to L-A-B

I took one look at that piece of Pizza and my stomach hurt.


so big, but so good.


I went with three other friends, so we all picked one and then shared, which was the best idea ever. Thai chicken, BBQ chicken, Buffalo wing, Veg+pep+sausage. I must say that the thai chicken was my favorite, but I really shouldn't even say that, it was all just so yummy. The atmosphere is awesome (different and hip, but not in a trendy, stuck up kind of a way) and the owner rocks (we even got free t-shirts). It's a tiny little place and since the weather was nice, we sat outside. It was a great idea until this darling little boy came and sat at the table next to us. I stopped eating and talking and even thinking and was completely mesmerized by him. I mean the kid had a bowl cut and chubby cheeks, along with a hilarious personality and I couldn't resist.

All and all, success!

M

ps: just a little warning, the pieces are literally a 1/4 of a pizza so go hungry or share or box it up or feed it to the ducks on the way home but be prepared

Gloria's

She had gotten the job, which meant she was not leaving me (yet) so we headed here to celebrate. My first restaurant I got to cross of the list.

mmm, gnocchi. Such an odd word for something that tastes so good. I could hardly remember the last time I had it, and I knew I needed to order it. It came swimming in a delightful rosy-pink sauce. Sadly I have to say, I was a little disappointed. It wasn't so much disappointment in the food as it was disappointment in myself. I knew that I should really love it. I knew that it was good quality, authentic Italian, but alas, I have had no exposure to "real" Italian food, nor do I eat any Italian food all that often, so I couldn't truly appreciate the hundreds of calories that were now coursing through my blood stream. I would compare the experience to how I feel about photography. I can tell the bad from the good, that's easy. But I can't tell the good from the great or the great from the visionary because I don't have the knowledge, exposure, experience, etc. I can tell Little Caesar's from Old Spaghetti Factory, but not Old Spaghetti from Little Gloria's (ok, I can actually make that distinction, but I couldn't think of a better example).

Since it was a little pricey and I wasn't raving about the food, and therefore wasn't sure if I would ever make it back, we decided we needed dessert. If you know me at all you know that any of the following words take away any and all self-control:
chocolate
molten
lava
cake
flourless
torte
triple chocolate
rich
fudge


And that's just what I ordered. A GIGANTIC molten chocolate cake that looked like pacman. It was so daunting I just stared at it, not knowing how or where to go about tackling this giant chocolate monster. It was yummy, but after about three bites I could eat no more (so full, like unbutton my pants full). So it was boxed up and eaten on the floor of my apartment in the wee hours by a bunch of gaggling girls.


Little Gloria's was proudly checked off the list. yay!

M

Note to self: don't ever write these posts while at work and starving

here

This summer I'm stuck in Provo and itching to be anywhere but here. In an attempt to make this summer great despite this unfortunate fact, I started making lists.

Restaurants in Provo I've never been to, places I want to see in Utah, ways to stay sane at work (so far that list has not served me very well), things I need to get done this summer, things I want to save up for... lists lists lists.

Some lists are more fun than others, namely restaurants and adventures in Utah so to hold me accountable to these lists and to have something to do at work, I am documenting my excursions, writing reviews, telling stories, etc.

First round of adventure posts to appear shortly,
M

W.O.R.K.

I've been feeling the roller coaster of the work force.

Sometimes I help people that are so appreciative, so kind. They make my job feel so worthwhile and meaningful. Sometimes I find just the thing they needed and I make their day. Sometimes I love the people I work with so much I just want to put them in my pocket and take them with me everywhere I go.

Other times my job seems pointless. I sit at the computer for two hours without helping a single person. Then someone finally comes along and they are snotty and mean and unappreciative and self-serving and unkind. And then a coworker forgets to come into work so I have to cover for them or they hover and ask nosy questions or they are just plain annoying. And I want to be done.

Until I think about job searching.

And then no matter how boring my job can be, it seems like a dream compared to formatting my resume, calling companies, and sending awkward inquiry emails.

Work is not always fun (hence why it is called work), but I feel like I'm learning so much at my job, even if sometimes the lesson learned is how to make a rubberband ball after 11 hours of work. And I love that I have the resources to give and save and occasionally spend. I love that I am building my own life and independence.

Isn't it so funny in life how often the things that seem to weigh us down, cause us pain, make us tired and stressed and annoyed and stretched are the very things that give us independence, self-sufficiency, happiness, resources, strength, character and ultimately freedom?

workin' like La Verkin,
M

FOOD

I've been thinking about food.

How yummy it is, how much it costs, how my tastes have changed as I've grown, how social it can be, how comforting, how dangerous, how consuming.

I have never been more keenly aware of my mortal state, and therefore my dependence on food, than when I am fasting. Denying myself of such a privilege, such a need, makes me realize how utterly controlled I am by food. So much of life revolves around putting substance into our bodies to give us health, strength, nourishment, pleasure.

And that is how it was meant to be. God made us creatures of dependence for a reason. It reminds us that we are small, that all that we are does not come from inside of ourselves. We are built out of what we consume. Food comes from the earth, the earth from God, a blessing and privilege we have been given. We need food because we need Him.

Hungry for so much,
M

kids today

I'm studying for the dreaded ochem final in the DEPTHS of the library, so you think I wouldn't be bothered right?

Think again. There are two kids studying stats right OUTSIDE of the group study rooms and the kid two seats down from me is watching music videos on his iphone WITHOUT his earphones in.

No wonder the future looks bleak: my generation stinks.


pray I can finish finals without any murder of fellow students,
M

today

I woke up to go running at 6. ha. hit snooze twice and then gave in and reset my alarm clock.

Even then, I still woke up the earliest I have in days, but was the latest to school I've been in months (you can blame the hair for that one; it always takes longer than I think)

I finally trudged down to the depths of the ASB to get my W2 form. Wasn't even that traumatic

I spent about 10 minutes of the hour it took me to take my virology lab test drawing a beautiful lattice picture of hemagglutination. I told the professor he better appreciate the time I took to make it look nice. He said another kid in our class made his 3D with shading. dang it.

I thought I would be healthy and eat an apple, picked up a granny smith. mealy. WHAT?! I have never in all my life had a mealy granny smith apple. It was curious though... it was only mealy on one side. I spent the rest of dinner trying to figure out why. Wicked Witch? Mrs. Meers?

People keep asking me if I got my haircut. Some guy that I see at work occasionally (and who I don't know) looked at me funny from across the room, did a double take and then when he saw that I saw him said "you did something with new with your hair. I like it" Hmmm, defintely on the creepy scale.

Currently I'm trying to use my mind powers to get this attractive boy using a computer 10 feet away to come and talk to me. It's not working very well.

oh today. it was a good day.

kisses,
M

microBIOLOGY part II

Remember this? Well, I have a few more things to add to the list:
You know you are a microbiology major when:

• you gchat your roommate about your viruses forming syncytia
  
• all summer long people were asking you your opinion on swine flu like someone would ask an economist their opinion about the recession
• you think to yourself, "I'd rather someone stole my wallet than my backpack, I've worked way too hard on my lab notebook to redo it"
• when you hear someone has been sick you drill them endlessly about the details: how long did the fever last? What strain of strep did the doctor say you had? Was the cough productive or non-productive?
• you can't see potato salad without thinking: public. health. disaster.
• you spend your Friday afternoon straining your eyes under the microscope looking for CPE
• you read books called The Coming Plague
• you are late to work because you were busy performing immunocytochemistry and you had to finish applying your antibodies to your infected cells
  

loving little life,
M

Better

There is nothing better than starting off your day with fortified OJ in a powerpuff girl cup.

How's that for empowering?

loves,
M