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

Mongolia

Today I felt like walking to Mongolia

You know, just for a change of scenery, some new faces. As I walked this old skin of mine would slowly lose affinity for this body. Here and there, pieces of this old me would be replaced by new ones. I would stop and see some familiar faces along the way, but the further I got from home, the more I would feel humanity is my family.

Swimming across the Atlantic would be tough, just me and my napsack, especially considering I have less than kind words to say about large waves and rocking motions, but I think I could manage.

Think of the adventures I would have, walking old Roman roads to the end of the earth. Think of the lessons I would learn, like never to eat pickled liver or trust a man with one eye. Think of the pain I would see, of the joy. Think of the person that would come to inhabit my body.

Think of the burdens that would be placed on my shoulders. Think of the ones that I would be leaving behind. Think of how small I would feel.

Today I want to walk to Mongolia. Tomorrow it will probably be New Guinea, but what's an extra thousand miles?


M

prosper

cheaters never prosper.


so


if I'm honest...




I should always prosper.






ha. yeah. right.

summer reading

I went to the library the other day. Thought I would check out some light summer reading.



the guy at the counter took one look at me and said, "research paper."
yep.

M

little

I don't think I've ever felt so small
as I do in international development class

It seems like we talk in circles, my head spinning as I listen.
One person says one thing, another the contradiction. They throw around highbrowed terms, thinking that they know what they are talking about. I try to follow, but rarely get up the courage to say what I really think. Everyone's statements are hollow, empty shells of thoughts no one can manage to articulate. Of course they mean well, but can any of us really do anything?

Oh how I long for sweet innocence! The days when I thought my brain and my hands were big enough to take on this mighty world. Growing comes at a heavy price.

Faith and hope abandon me for cheap thrills down at the carnival each time I step into B032 Monday, Wednesday, Friday. I walk out of class gasping for air. And yet, in the same moment of my despair, fire rages beneath the surface, and my soul is ready to jump on a plane this instant bound for the ends of the earth. An angel and a devil, both enticing me to act and to let go.

I try to walk my feelings out, decompressing as I pound the pavement on my way home from class to my empty apartment. I come in to a room full of things, all their value and meaning useless. Think, M, think. Who are you?


M

writing is an elusive friend. sometimes he comes sometimes he goes. sometimes he is my closest companion, the only one who seems to be there, to listen, to share wisdom and advice, and to tell me things that I knew all along. And other times... he leaves me all alone. I sit down, attempting to call my muse as I desperately try to find the words to express how feel and he runs, never to look back at my perplexed and frustrated expression.

lately he's been unavailable, busy, fickle, mean, vindictive...
just gone.

trying coax my muse back so I can say what I mean to say,
M

It's...

simply delightful
.

P and M you guys are the best!

Taking Stock

I'm too tired
I have a chemistry assignment to do
ha. add it to the list
It's so late
this is more pertinent
tomorrow I'll think about it
I can't think about it while I'm wearing pajamas
my eye hurts

I JUST DON'T WANT TO

But no matter how I try to push, shove, kick, or intimidate the thoughts out of my head, they keep worming their way into my stream of consciousness as if it was a rotten apple.

The worms:
It's time to reevaluate
check out my priorities
face reality
make some changes
do what I know I should be doing
have a heart to heart with myself
admit what I really want
make to do lists and do them
be productive
own up to my weaknesses
realize I can't do everything
find my happy place
Be a better grown up (even if I'm still pretending at it)





I'll start tomorrow.

hehe,
M

advice to future me

You don't really like carrots. You think that you do, but every time you buy them they sit in the fridge for a few weeks until you throw them away.

Never wear mom pants. No matter how "mommy" you are.

You had a dream. To make a difference. Do. not. forget.

Stay informed. Remember what you love to do, see, hear

create

work on that indecisive thing. Trust your instinct and don't question it

never under any circumstances puff your hair up high, wear any sort of loose fitting jumper or clothing with animals/fruit/martini glasses on it, call strangers sweetheart or honey, or settle for anything less than you deserve.

Remember that one day you'll look back on this school thing with longing and wish for the endless days in the library, late nights with roommates, and poor dietary habits (oops. that's advice to present self).

be you. always.

M

dandelion wine

It started with an early morning. The sun was flooding into the room and the light surrounding me, lifting my eyelids to enjoy the day. Warmth enveloped me.

His name will be had for good and evil in all nations, kindreds, and tongues. "Consider the implications of that announcement" My thoughts turned to gratitude for that man. My mind has been full of his words, his story, and his faith. Read this. Or this. Or maybe this.

I climbed those steps. Each time I feel like it should get easier but it doesn't. I was met by a sloping, perfectly cared-for hill of green grass and a view that belonged on a postcard. Enjoy it. Take advantage of it. Exploit it. It will always be there but I will not always be here. Remember.

I cuddled to him close, his tired eyes struggling to awake. He rubbed his blanky back and forth in his ear subconsciously and burrowed his head in my side. That smile. Those eyes. I just melt. He pulled a popsicle out of the box "here ya go sissy!" pulled one out for himself and we were out on the lawn laughing as his popsicle fell apart and he slurped up as much as he could. I've never seen such excitement bottled up in one little body. Perfect. Day.

I didn't want to do it, but I knew I had to. I told myself I'd make it quick and easy. No pain. I felt like I my feet were dragging as I stumbled out of the house. But as the cement turned into asphalt and the song finally came on, I couldn't help but smile. Faster, faster, faster. Push, breathe, harder. More. I wanted to breathe harder, until the oxygen permeated every last inch of my body and soul. I looked around: green. Someone seemed to have slipped a green filter lens over my eyes for that is all I could behold. Life.

It's finally summer.
It's here. I'm here. Happy. Content. Grateful. Free.
M

still

yep
still here
still alive
still in the library
still craving chocolate
still wishing for time to be still

M

today

today

i ate and thought.




gotta love finals,
m

help!

I'm being held captive by the snow.

I can't go outside.

I.
Hate.
UTAH.
Weather.

m

creepy

does anyone else think this is as creepy as I do?
When I went to sign in to googlemail today this is what I saw:

"Email will never be a thing of the past, but actually reading and writing messages is about to be. Gmail Autopilot automatically manages your inbox better than you can, with zero effort from you. Learn more »

Keep in touch Brand-new CADIE technology enables Autopilot to scan every one of your incoming messages and automatically send the perfect reply. Manage relationships Impress everyone with your prompt and insightful responses to everything from urgent notes from your boss to cute messages from your significant other. Match your style Autopilot calibrates for tone, typos and preferred punctuation. It's just like you, but automated."

You know all those creepy scifi movies about all of us turning into robots?


hmmm...

M

overcome

I'm supposed to be studying for a test, but my mind won't stop racing. This is an attempt to get some of it's contents out in written form with the hope that it will calm the storm so I can get back to stuffing my mind full of bio facts.

I set foot in the library today for the first time in probably two months. It was a weird, unsettling feeling. Like I was being punished for not setting foot in here for so long. I forced myself through the doors, reminding myself I had to have a quiet place to study. Each step down to the 2nd floor was painful. I felt my chest tighten up and that empty, yet consuming feeling fill in the holes where my heart and lungs used to be. As I opened the periodical doors, I was flooded with memories. Late nights, procrastination, cookie dough sneaked in with care, bizarre meetings with boys from our ward, vending machine runs, great discussions... and oh yeah, studying. I realized that part of the reason I've been avoiding the library is because it brings this all back. And all this is something that I lack at the moment in my quiet life. I miss. And it hurts.

As I sat down, I felt uncomfortable. I feel like the books are staring at me, tell me to open them and reveal their secrets. I feel guilty that I never tap into the resources they offer, that I don't take advantage of everything and anything that goes on on campus everyday. I yearn to spend a lifetime here, just to read and expand my mind. I want to be better. I want to do better. I want to feel better.

Today, right now, I am overcome. With everything. With everything I want to do, see, be. With everything I must decide... but mostly with everything that I must give up. Why, when one door opens another closes? Why, when I follow one path my feet yearn to be on another? Why can't I have everything I want? Why isn't there ever enough time, patience, and discipline in my heart to have the courage to do what I really want to do, filling my days with light and love, with balance and peace. Why am I so bad sometimes at this life thing?

overcome. but only for a moment,
M

"say it"

"say it"



"say it... out loud"

"she is my favorite sister"

"how long has she been your favorite sister?"








"awhile"


Rewind to almost a year ago. One day in May I hopped on a plane due south not knowing what the future held, only that she would be there waiting to pick me up at the airport. The experience was wonderful and I would do it again in a heartbeat, but even she would admit, Chapel Hill isn't the most rockin' town in the US. So, in order to entertain ourselves, She and I spent weeks watching this rewinding to watch our favorite parts over and over, rolling around laughing in her office, days waiting for this (to read the first chapter of this) and hours discussing what was next in the lame but oh-so-addicting series. It became a piece of that summer and an integral part of almost every inside joke we have. The road trip back to Utah came and went. Then August rolled around. Her birthday.... what to get her.... this was only natural.

The Sustainer went out for this (I was utterly jealous) while I stayed at home. The day she got back I said my hellos after a long day of school and went to my room. This beauty (see below) was waiting for me on my bed. Yes! YES! Golden.

"Sweetheart conversation hearts: Forbidden Fruits"
"The Forbidden Fruit Tastes the Sweetest"
On candy hearts: "Live 4 ever" "I heart EC" "Dazzle" "Lamb" "Soul Mate" "Bite me" "Secret" "With you"
Flavors: "Orange Obsession" "Tempting Apple" "Secret Strawberry" "Passion Fruit"
Favorite two features: "Secret Scent, Rub to Reveal..."
"Secrets of the night

• Edwards full name is Edward Anthony Mason Cullen. He adopted the Cullen surname after being changed into a vampire and joining Carlisle Cullen's family
• Edward was born on June 20, 1901 in Chicago, Illinois. In 1918, he was forever changed into a vampire
• Edward has waited 90 years to find his soul mate Bella
• Both Bella and Edward are juniors at Forks High School"

I mean can there be anything better than that? So sorry sisters. I don't know how any of you will ever top this one... Love you Bean!


M

see

I told you


It's spring

everything is growing



M



ps I realized I posted this on the coldest day we've had in weeks, but I'm praying this will send the rain/snow away!

always

I've always dreamed of working in an office. A tall, glossy building with a revolving door and a security guard up front. A spotless, white, chic office. People everywhere, busily going about their important work and me... sitting in an office with glass walls, a neat desk and my own assistant. Each day I attend meetings with important board members and I wow them with my passion, determination and innovation.

Ok, ok want to know the real reason why I want to work in the office?
clothes. Tailored suits, oh! Crisp white collared shirts, pencil skirts, high heels, chic nylons, designer bags to hold all those important proposals. Structured Jackets, dresses, coats and gloves to keep my hands warm as I walk to the office in the city. If I could just hold it all. Just rub my cheek against the silk, wool, cashmere. Lovely. Simple lovely.

Although I’m not this bad, Oh to have an excuse to pay the price for this and wear this or these or this! Occasionally I can’t resist. We are not talking designer here, but still. But then my lovely item sits in my closet waiting for the sporadic occasion in which I can wear it. Sometimes I just wear the beauties because I cannot contain myself, but I feel like a little kid playing adult.

One day. One day I want to have a real reason to wear this. Remind me why I’m not a business major? Oh, because you don’t pick your major based on clothes. Dang it.

the other half

I read this today, and it got me thinking. The interview wasn't particularly inspiring, but she just seems like a very solid women with a good head on her soldiers. Her husband was a man who tried for peace, no matter the consequences. And I wonder... would he have been able to do what he did without this woman by his side?

Women are important. Of course we are. And we contribute to the world in a way that men cannot. As a woman, because I am a woman, I can make a difference. I just need to keep reminding myself of that. I would be nowhere without the many strong women in my life who have showed me what it truly means to be courageous, to endure, to love, to work, to stand.


M

breathe

it's spring.






M

I walked into my room after a long day of studying and a disappointing test score. I collapsed on the bed and my eyes met the mess around me. I hate when my room is messy, it is a reflection of my boggled brain.

Do you think that your possessions are a true reflection of your inner self? I surveyed the radioactive waste around me and thought. Powerpoint printouts littering the floor surround a small opening where my body sat for 6 hours today, old tupperware containers, an empty water glass--empty because I spilled it this morning, clothes piled on the chair reflecting my indecisive nature, letters I meant to send, that book I'll eventually read, two alarm clocks just in case, open drawers, granola bar wrappers strewn across the desk--eaten in haste in the wee morning hours--something to sustain me as I tried to stay awake, running shoes, my power cord, the D and C manual, more papers buried under clothes content unknown, a Christmas napkin from lunch the other day, the duke blanket, and a pile of pens I dumped out of the drawer to find just the right one.

If you took it all away, cleared out the mess in big HAZMAT bags, emptied out the closet, the bookselves, the dresser, stole my secret stash of gum and wiped all the dust away, what would be left of me?

What would be left of you?


M

yesterday

I sat down to write my paper about the ways in which bacteria cause disease. It was a tricky business at best. I mean I can whip out an intelligible paper about Kierkegaard, but how on earth do I make bacteria measure up to Kierkegaard? I turned on a little music, something to feel the void of silence that has been creeping around me since I’ve been solo this week. This song came on, not a masterpiece, but it is chalk full of memories from a time that seems far too long ago. I called her and made her listen to it. I hung up the phone and prepared to get back to work.

And then I cried.

And then I laughed. How the heck does a song like that make you cry? But I already knew the answer to that one. I cried for yesterday. I cried for late nights on gchat, noodle fights, dancing in the kitchen, quote walls, diapers, pranks, grey’s, brownies, always having someone there, skinny mirror, tarzn, gossip girl, cakes, creamery on 9nth, runs. I cried for them. It wasn’t a desperate cry, a cry of defeat or despair; it was a cry of change. That we’ve all moved on. I cried because I knew that is the way it is supposed to be.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy for her my veins are about to burst. And I’m so happy for her. And I’m so happy we are all finding ourselves, and settling in to places in our lives that seem so utterly us. But that doesn’t mean that every once and awhile I look back and cry, mourn the loss of something great, even if what has replaced it is even greater.

Somehow during this short year since we said goodbye to apt 2111, with an all out day of cleaning and one last hoorah, we’ve all managed to transform. And it is a good thing. But, all the busyness and plans and homework and dates and exercising and babysitting and extra curriculars and… life, takes its toll. And sometimes I cry.

I’m at a wonderful place right now in my life. I have immeasurable potential, a whole life before me, and lots of great people to share it all with. I’m grateful for all I have. And although sometimes I long for yesterday (thing this song) and as cheesy as it sounds, I am truly grateful for today.

Back to bacteria,
M

Someday

So I've been thinking a lot about somedays (hence my last post). Why I put certain things off, why I do other things immediately, why I want something so badly, and then when it comes right down to it, I can't seem to take action to do what needs to be done. I have a wonderful life. I have been blessed with so many things. Sometimes I think too many. But there is responsibility that comes with those privileges (think this scripture). And I feel like I've been taking all my blessings for granted. Now is my time to act. So... I'm searching. Trying to find my niche, my way to give something beautiful to the world. The day that I posted this, a little gift popped up on my igoogle: "How to Cure Someday Syndrome." So I read. I was pleasantly surprised. They actually had some good tips, and if anything it got me thinking about what I do/try to do/want to do to make my somedays go away. I'm reminded of this talk, something I need to memorize as a permanent mantra. On tuesday this man spoke, and it was excellent. Just one more reminder to do something today.

Someday is no good. It just makes us disappointed in ourselves, and stops us from becoming who we are really meant to become.

No more somdays for me (ok, let's be realistic here, a few less somedays for me),
M

wasted

If I took all the time I wasted:
deciding what I wanted to wear that day
checking facebook
eating when I'm not even hungry
checking my email
thinking about nothing
whining about how much I have to do
worrying about all there is to worry about
blogging when I'm supposed to be studying for a test

I think I would have a whole lot of time to do the things I really want to do. WHY? Why I ask you? Why can't I just get it together enough to actually be the person I really want to be instead of always watching others take action while I worry about how my hair isn't curling right.

grrr.... today I am angry at myself.

no more wasting time. NO MORE
M

Courage

The more I learn, the more frustrated I become. Is that the purpose of the education, to make us into informed, but utterly confused individuals who are incapable of forming opinions because we actually see both sides?

Education makes my brain hurt.

This week the confusion escalated as I listened to this man. I had heard him speak once before, in the White City, what seemed like eons ago. When we found out his was coming to pay us a visit in Provo, we all frantically jumped on the computers and signed up for his three day lecture class on the conflict in Jerusalem.

He struck me as a very interesting man the first time he spoke to us. He was wearing worn out jeans and an untidy blue, wrinkled shirt, but he was very well spoken, using such striking analogies and metaphors I was forced to write them down. I felt naturally inclined to trust his words. I didn't have to sift through his words to find the truth within them. I saw it more plainly before me.

This time he was in a suit. I felt much more removed from the subject, and I felt sadness rise within me that I wasn't as current on the conflict as I once had been. I was eager to hear his words, to let them dance around in my mind. Some of what I heard came back like I had once heard it in a dream. But a lot of it was new. I laughed to myself as I thought that I had spent an entire semester learning about the subject and I had barely cracked the surface on what there is to know. I think sometimes we learn so we can see how ignorant we really are. It keeps us humble.

He is a no nonsense man, one that tells you how it is. Usually I dislike people like that because they come off cynical, the Scrooges of the world. But what I was most impressed with as I listened to him was not his knowledge, his resume, his client base, or even his metaphors. It was his strong moral standing and his sense of hope. He is an Israeli citizen, but he has taken cases up against Israeli settlers, lobbied for schools to be built in East Jerusalem, and knows everything and anything there is to know about the possibilities for peace in Jerusalem. He has done what he thinks is right, in a resounding, impacting, could ruin your entire career, kind of way. I could see within him a strong moral compass, one that he would not stray from, no matter how politically or non-politically correct he was being. He presented us with seemingly insurmountable difficulties, and yet... he urged us to make the difference. That as Americans, and even as Christians we had a part to play in this rally for peace. And we must have hope.

I have been thinking a lot lately about hope. How easily we can lose hope, how easily we can gain it. How universal it is. We may be of different lands, of different cultures, but we all hope. Hope for peace, for a better way of life, for love, for happiness.

Sometimes making a difference in the world seems too daunting. I've always been one to entertain the idea that one day I will make a difference in the world. But as I become more and more educated, I become more and more overwhelmed with the task. Human beings, however fundamentally the same, are very complicated. And that makes making a difference a very difficult thing. But...

If you don't hope, no one will. If you don't try, no one does. The world is vast, heart breaking, and often times cold. But for all the tragedy that seems to emanate from this habitat of ours, there is an incredible amount of good. And my belief is that it stems from hope. Hope in more than life, in a Creator of all, and hope that as an individual, you can make a difference.

As I listened to him, I prayed that I could have such courage. That I could stand knowing that not once had I betrayed my conscience. That I could do what is right because it was right. Always.

The conflict seems impossible and the more I do learn the more confused I become about its intricacies. It's not so black and white; humans are involved after all. And yet... if you take one more look maybe it's not as impossible. One thing I do know, we will never find peace if we don't have hope that we will.

Courage. Courage to stand. Courage to learn. Courage to hope.

M

step

One step two step three step four

Step step step step
Is it really over?

All of us were there. Just us
Stepping the same
Endless paths before us
Somehow it would always be this way

Then I stepped there and you here
You and I
Different.
One step more and they are strangers to me

It hurts sometimes
A child ripped from her playthings


Hundreds of steps
Thousands of steps
Millions of steps
He stepped there


So many steps.
But not too many
I should have counted

I can’t
Lift my eyes to the stars
Hold my hand, touch my heart
Tell me the secret to make my eyes twinkle again
And then let go

I told you I wouldn’t forget this time
Step step

But I did
Tell me again will you?


My eyes averted I continue on
Step step
It hurts and I know it

Turn. Do it. I dare you
Don’t think. Remember
Step step step


M

microBIOLOGY

you know when you are a mircobiology major when:

you hear the words staphylcoccus aureus and your skin jumps with excitement and butterflies flit around in your stomach like kissing the boy of your dreams for the first time.

you climb the 10 flights of stairs to the eighth floor of the WIDB. every. day. .

the only pictures on your camera of late are ones of the bacteria you grew on your petri dish

you spend two hours harvesting and planting seeds so tiny you can barely see them

you spend all day with your hands in inoculated petri dishes full of bacteria ranging from salmonella to some strain that resembles cholera if it infects you and you like it

you start throwing words around like PCR, DNA extraction, inoculate, Agar, infectious, pili, interferon, lipopolysaccharide, and cytotoxic T cell like those were the first words you spoke as a toddler.

you've become a biohazard to the entire BYU campus.

This semester will be interesting,
M

wearing

do you ever put on an outfit and walking out the door thinking, why the heck am I wearing this?

Today is that day.

making poor fashion choices,
m

pilgrimage

The Tel Aviv Airport

The Old City

Augusta Victoria Church

Model City: The Israel Museum

Tel Aviv

Tel Beer She'va

Wilderness of Zin overlook

The Pyramids

The Sphinx

Saqqara

The Camel Safari

Citadel of Salah Al-Din

Ibn Tulun Mosque

Mt. Sinai

The Dome of the Rock

Valley of Elah (where David met Goliath)

Church of the Holy Sepulchre

Hezekiah's Tunnel

Dormission Abbey

Madaba

Petra

The Church of the Nativity

The Red Sea

Caesarea Maritima

In Galilee, near the Golan Heights

Gamla (site of one of the first clashes in the Great Revolt)

Bet She'an

The bus where my tired feet spent many hours

Masada

The Dead Sea

walking on the usual route back to the Center from the City

home. 18 days. 12 hours. 37 minutes. 07 seconds and counting...

Each second it gets further away, memories become that much more distant, and the feeling that it was all a dream-an alternate universe-becomes more real. It once again feels like a distant land. When I think such a thought I immediately accompany it with several others. I force my mind to recall the palace that is the Center. I remind myself of the pain my legs felt as I walked up the hill to the Old City. I try to hearken the smells, the business, the faces back to my mind. I can hear the prayer call filling my ears with beauty. Most of all I try to summon that glow, that constant uplifting and power I didn’t know I had until it was gone. It was real. I know it. I know it.

Home is good. Home is hard. Home is here, but home is somewhere distant as well.

We sat around the oasis table eating our typical lunch of fruit, some questionable meat, egg and pasta concoction, pitas and more pitas. It was one of the first days and we were taking a break from our many orientations and were discussing our new lives and the journey we were about to embark on. One of the boys remarked, "I think more than anything this is a pilgrimage, that's what Brother Huntington said last night and that is how I'm going to treat it from now on."

His words struck me. At the time I did not fully understand how this journey was a pilgrimage, but now it is the best word, for lack of a better one, to describe the journey that I went on. Thousands of people make their own pilgrimage to Jerusalem. They sacrifice time, money, and the way of the world to come to this ancient place and pay their respects to the sacredness this land possesses. But the sacredness of this place does not just come from the places themselves, but from the value that the people put on them. From their goodness and devotion to God. From their yearning to become better, more like Him. From their pilgrimage.

I thought of the best way to document my journey in Jerusalem in a meaningful way. To me, this sums up my journey. A piece of me and a piece of the land. Just a small smattering of all the places were my feet walked. Evidence I passed through there, but really that the land passed through me, whispered it's secrets into my ear, and guided me as I learned to open my mind and heart.

A pilgrim's footsteps in Jerusalem.

You’ll find some glaring omissions in my collection. Where are the quintessential Jerusalem sights? Where is the Garden Tomb, the Garden of Gethsemane, Galilee?

My foot prints to do not appear in such places because I consider them sacred ground. I am one among thousands who have walked that hallowed ground and have been touched, my heart marked rather than my footprint left. Such an event is deemed sacred and deserves reverence, written upon the walls of my heart and kept close.

My last piece is at the Center. The white limestone characterizing the Center and the Eternal City. My empty, worn, walking shoes. These shoes contain so many memories, not only in Jerusalem, but they represent a whole life before my journey to that distant land. An old life I shed in Jerusalem to become a better person. And a piece of me I left in the land I love. Empty shoes to be filled by other students. Others who will love the land just as much as I do, who will feel the center is their home, and the people their people. And I, I will continue on.

my heart belongs in Jerusalem, and I pray for peace.

beginning a new kind of journey, but taking all I have learned from this monumental one,
m