{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