11.30.2009

Social (adj.):

a1387 Designating a war fought between allies.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, in the 14th century social meant fighting between friends?

I'm a fairly social person--so I've been told. Sometimes I enjoy this socializing, and sometimes all I want is to curl up in a warm blanket with the sole company of a good book. Yet quite frankly, in all reality, when I have the choice between people or paper, I drop the books and run.
The reason I'm bringing this up is I've noticed I allow people to dictate my mood far too easily. For example, when I actively socialize with all the "right" people, I've had a "good" day; otherwise, I've inexplicably had a miserable one. Well, now I'm explaining. In spite of internal and external professions, I must really care what people think of me. Actually, I know I do. Consequently, I suppose I interpret social action as an invariable reflection of that thought--that judgment of who I am, what I'm capable of becoming, and how much I'm worth. Don't get me wrong, I don't need every person to smile and pointedly tell me "hi" just so I don't kill myself. I do have self worth, and I do understand this without social reminders. But I think it's normal to define one's self based on social acceptance. I don't want this to be so, but it is, and I succumb to social pressures every day. Why can't I just not care? Or should I? Do you think socializing with the masses is important? Should we care what the masses think? say? do?

11.29.2009

Content

For the first time in quite a while, I feel at peace with nearly everything in my life. There is such a sweet satisfaction with letting go of the things in life that cause stress and emotional grief, letting go of expectations.
AHHH...a sigh of relief and relaxation. Now, just two weeks left of school and I'm home free.

11.22.2009

Do I want to be a Journalist?

These are the words I submitted to my department when applying for the broadcasting program (with a few changes and additions since). Do I still want to be a journalist? Do I still believe these words?

Broadcast journalism is not about being on television, ending a report with your own name, or standing next to important people. Journalism is much more than this. Journalists are story tellers committed to the truth—the whole truth, while telling the story of life.

News is real—the story told through the eyes of the journalist. While journalists are meant to tell the stories of life, their interpretation and emphasis may differ. Journalist hold the very important role of information gatekeeper, deciding what successfully passes through the gate or not. Therefore, the eyes of the gatekeeper, and how they see the world, are vitally important for every one of their viewers.

When I look at the world, I see life a little deeper than name brands and magazine covers. I want to see beyond the latest fad, perhaps to the store employee that struggles to sell that fad to support a family.

Throughout my experiences in journalism, I have been privy to a world unseen by the everyday citizen. While working at Classical 89 Radio and KBYU Television, I have been privileged to research about and talk with many people. Knowing I have the opportunity to better the world by reporting about the importance of knowledge, culture, accomplishment and family, gives me a sense of purpose. This opportunity to improve the world around me comes through the title of “journalist.”

While working on my education in broadcasting, I was able to experience circumstances that exist for journalists on a daily basis. Although journalists must consolidate all aspects of a story into a mere few minutes for broadcast, sometimes, the most personally powerful moments do not make it to air. As a journalist, I have been fortunate to hear the parts of a story edited out of the final project, the parts that will never reach the eyes of the audience, but will always remain with me.

Reporting is not about being on TV. It is about being in the moment behind the camera, putting the people on the screen. It is helping the audience to really see. Journalism is not about buying the fancy makeup or ensuring that every day is a good hair day for the anchor. I know what it is like to have technical problems, to stand around at a meeting for hours without managing to capture even ten seconds of usable footage, to hit dead ends, to do the grunt work just to allow someone else to slap their name on your project, to work with irritable people and under pressure. But I also know that the story is worth the fight. I know what it is like when everything comes together, and you know you are making a difference. I am the eyes my audience looks through to see the world. This is what journalism is to me; this is why I want to be a journalist.

11.21.2009

Sleep

I'm alive again. And I'm happy. And it's all because of sleep.

11.20.2009

BWAHAHAHAHAHA

These videos made my night.

You must watch them in there entirety.






BWAHAHAHAHAHA

11.18.2009

Homework

I hate you.
The end.

Toast!

Hehe. This came from my dad. I like.

Anna,

Today a woman shared with me a toast that she and her roommates used to give in college before they would have a drink together (water of course). I thought you might find it handy at some dinner, so here it is.

Here’s to the boys that we like. Here’s to the boys that like us. Since the boys that we like aren’t the boys that like us, to heck with the boys here’s to us.

Love,

Dad

Thanks, Dad.

Wednesday's Word

Eschew: to avoid habitually, especially on moral grounds.

I eschew jerks.

Sometimes, I eschew them all up and spit them out!

11.17.2009

Happiness

hehe. This makes me smile.

Lost and Found

I was lost. But a friend cared, and I was found.

Thanks, GT. That meant a lot.

11.16.2009

Travis

Travis text me yesterday.

It's the first time he's contacted me in months; yet, somehow, it still made me cry--again.

Thank goodness I have a roommate who has the audacity to call him names I don't have the gall to say--names he deserves to be called.

But it wouldn't have helped if I had participated in the name calling, and I knew this.

So I prayed for him instead.

Vestige

Caleb and I have been working on the business. It's going well.

He made a commercial and music video. Check 'um out:





And here's our blog.

11.14.2009

Love Happens

I just saw this movie at the dollar theater:



I liked it. Even shed a few tears. :) Recommended.

I've been thinking a lot about love lately; and I have a variety thoughts to express on the subject, but I just don't think I'll get to them all tonight. Maybe eventually--in time.

I don't even know where to begin. Well, maybe for once I can just write as I used to on this blog--senseless ramblings, unfiltered jabber.

I spoke with a male friend tonight on the phone for nearly two hours. We're just friends, well, good acquaintances. And he asked me a lot of questions about my relationship with Travis. I've told that story so many times--some recounts include "these" details, others "those," and some none at all. But rarely do the words I say truly tell the story. No body really wants to hear that story.

Honestly, I don't mind talking with people about my dating life, both past and present. I don't mind, but I rarely get through such conversations without a churning stomach and nasty after-flavor. There is no need for apologies by those who bring up the topic, sometimes I really do need the talk. The problem is, I want someONE to tell my stories to. Male or Female, really, either will do. I just need a real friend, a best friend. You know, the "bosom buddy" type. I enjoy my friends and acquaintances, but I'm tired of pretending.

Do I pretend all the time? No, I don't think so. But I know I pretend often enough I confuse even myself about who I really am inside. I had a four-hour conversation a few weeks ago with the same young man mentioned above. During this conversation I let myself out a little. It's not like I divulged some deep dark secret, I only became really excited about Plato, Oedipus, and Freud. I really enjoyed myself throughout the conversation, but after a few days of thinking, I kicked myself for it. I felt so ridiculously nerdy for explaining the entire back-story of Oedipus Rex, and I felt like an overall dork for babbling so long to someone who is practically a stranger to me. He plays football and runs for Student Body President--so, he probably has an entourage of attractive women. I wonder what type of man would be interested in me.

I love love. There is something magical about it. But at this point in my life, it's easier to look the other way. I wouldn't say I'm bitter. And I've even quenched the loneliness I felt before by filling my life with many wonderful things. Yet, in spite of my rebellious attitude--planning the next ten years of my life as though I were single--there is a small grain of something inside me that says this it is so very wrong of me to picture myself alone.

Do you believe in true love? How about "meant to be" or "the one"?

Why is love seen as a cliche in today's world?

* * *

I just received a card from Gma S. in the mail. We've have this exchange going on for the past little while where I call her and then she "responds" by writing and mailing me a letter/card. It's very sweet. I love hand-written snail-mail. One day, since we're on the topic of love, I want someone to snail-mail me love letters one day.

This is written on the front of the card:

Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

In her note, my Gma writes about a grandmother's love. She says that, like God's love, we have an boundless capacity to love. So what is love? Does this scripture depict Godly love? Is this what we should mean every time we say "I love you"?

Love to me:

-Inside Jokes
-Peace
-Hugs that consume my whole body and fill me with giddiness
-Forgiveness
-A confidant
-Sharing
-Imperfections
-Road trips
-Family
-Good food
-Understanding
-Selflessness
-Putting you before me
-Respect
-Caressing
-A pedestal
-Late nights filled with "I love you"s
-Unconditional
-Safe
-Letting go of expectations
-Never giving up
-Honor
-Deep conversations
-Tenderness
-Thought
-Romance
-Frozen chocolate
-Kindness
-Best friend
-Complementing and complimenting
-Passion
-Star gazing
-Honesty
-Meaning what you say
-Saying nice things
-Babies
-Patience
-Humility
-Dancing
-Working things out
-Giggling
-Kisses
-Communication
-Secrets with, not from
-Lazy Saturday mornings in bed
-Agreeing to disagree
-Eternity
-Red roses
-God
-Bryan Adams
-Gentlemen

11.13.2009

Dancing is a Sport!

Well, DanceSport competition has, yet again, come and gone. My partner and I successfully made it through all of the preliminary rounds, but were cut just before Quarterfinals. It was a pleasant competition--long enough to have fun, but short enough to get me to my job interview on time.

Me, Parker J. (partner)




The Waltz

11.12.2009

My Bucket List

While in high school, my A.P. English teacher asked for a list of the 100 things we wanted to do before we died. I can remember seriously considering what to put on my list for about the first twenty-five, and then google searching others' lists and copying likable sections just to fill the assignment. I don't know where that list is now--probably in a bucket, buried deep under the stairs in my parents' basement (the irony--my bucket list, buried six-feet under).

I hope to live to a ripe old age (whatever that means); but I would hate to get there and not feel as though I had lived my dreams. So, this way, if I make a list I can be sure to stay on task for the next 50 years. And while "100" feels like such a daunting number to begin with, ten seems more manageable for now--and I will most definitely add to it as I go.

1. Go to Africa
2. Write a novel
3. Air one of my documentaries
4. Road trip across country
5. Get married
6. Acquire photography skills
7. Play "Drive" by Incubus on my guitar
8. Go on a cruise
9. Get my master's degree
10. Compete in an amateur ballroom competition

What's on your list?

11.10.2009

Dark vs. Light

Today, darkness engulfed me.

While walking through a hall on campus, I saw a colleague hiding her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks behind the back of her hand. She was attempting to talk on the phone, but all that came out were cries of desperation and sobs of deep pain. I wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, but I felt awkward as we were merely acquaintances. After skulking off, my conscience finally won, and I found the courage to turn around and check on her. I gave a sad attempt at hugging her, but it was useless, because she quickly gestured her desire to be alone. I couldn't help. Only minutes earlier I had discussed her work with her and she was fine. Now, she felt a wrenching pain--the kind that came from the bottom of your gut and ripped holes in your soul. But I couldn't help.

Later I found out she had received horrible news: her cousin had committed suicide.

I thought of the one person I had known to commit suicide. It was the father of two of my dance students. Memories of him began running through my mind. I can so clearly remember him sitting in the lounge of the dance studio. He was always so kind. I don't think I ever knew his name, but he knew mine, and he always made it a point to ask me about my life when I took the girls out for a mid-class trip to the drinking fountain. He seemed to enjoy the updates I gave him, and he was the only father who ever associated with me. I really liked him. I knew he and his wife were divorced, and I'm sure there were valid reasons why that was so, but I liked his ex-wife as well. His daughters were some of my favorite students.

I can remember the day I found out what he'd done. I noticed he'd stopped coming in to pick up the girls, as he always had in the evenings. I guess I'd assumed the family's schedule changed, and he switched to dropping them off, or something of the like. One of the other dance teachers made reference to how well the girls were both doing, and how glad everyone was to have them back in classes. When I obviously didn't understand what my colleague was talking about, she explained. I felt sick for days. He shot himself in the front yard just before his girls left his house. They were there. A fifteen and eight year old. Present. Saw it. Heard it. Sickening. I felt nauseous for days, and I didn't even know him all that well. So what if he had his problems. How selfish can you be? I get down. I think poorly about myself. I have rough spouts--like today, for example. Today I've thought very negative thoughts. Does that mean I can give up?

My mother's friend committed herself to a hospital's psych ward this summer. She said she needed some peace and quiet and a good night's sleep.

I wish I were stronger. I wish I never doubted. I wish I could be more. But I know my weaknesses act as teachers, which cause me to grow and learn and become better than anything I otherwise could have become. I hurt, oh I hurt so deeply. I don't think I've been completely whole for some time now. Often, I pretend: to be O.K., to care, to smile. But my life is also full of joy and learning and love. I have a testimony of the healing and enabling powers of the savior. I desire perfect happiness and exaltation through him. Yet, I understand this life isn't meant for happily ever afters. It is for ups and downs, that is what makes us grow, what makes us fulfill the potential the Lord sees in us. I am so blessed. I am so grateful--even for the trials, and I know I can't give up. I don't want to give up, because tomorrow will be better. And today is good. The gospel brings me peace and joy and light. It is the source of happiness. It is love. And God answers prayers.

The words in this video hit me as though they were the words of my Heavenly Father, speaking the thoughts of a parent to a child on his knee. Thank you, Father. Thank you for everything.



Sorry. I feel as though that were very depressing. Believe me when I say I have a good life. I'm just down about my co-worker's cousin, and the sadness this life brings each and every one of us.

Holga

Why have I never heard of a Holga before? I want one.

11.09.2009

A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned

I've done a lot of self-reflecting recently, some of which has been negative and some positive. I often find reasons to evaluate my life, but this time, oddly enough, my motivation came from a fashion blog. I've read this blog for about three weeks now, and began putting down my supposed lack of fashion and culture. While walking on campus I looked down at my ratty shoes--five dollar black clogs from a thrift store--that had been torn out on the side for over a year now. The tape I had once colored black and used to hold the shoe together remained only in pieces on a part of the shoe's sole. And the staples that had also failed miserably to keep the shoe intact were also barely hanging on--something the shoe in its entirety managed every time I wore it. I began questioning my passionate preference of frugality over self gratification. But Julie's blog, along with several others, created such a desire to splurge, I took a plunge this weekend and spent about $60. Really, I bought five shirts and many necessary household items, so I was able to contain myself somewhat. But as I stood in the checkout line my stomach churned at the thought of the six dollar bottle of lotion I had in my hand. I knew there were several brands that were cheaper than this one. But it was the one I wanted, and I bought it. Deep inside of me it felt good to walk out of the store with a name brand item, but my shoulder angel warned me not to get used to the feeling. While an occasional splurge is nice, it's my frugality that allows me to plan on New York and Africa next year, and my frugality that allows me to have enough money to serve others while I myself struggle financially. So, while I do plan on keeping a tight pocket, I also plan on changing my image just a bit. Maybe I just will throw those shoes out. But then again, it never really was about the money--it's always been about me.

11.07.2009

Provo Porn

Today I found pornographic pass-along cards in the gutter near my house. Now, I’m not so naive to believe these things don’t exist in Provo—of course they do, in more lives than I even care to think about, and in more ways (Don’t even get me started on last week’s Halloween costumes—the holiday that allows every sicko Mormon girl to “dress up.”). However, people often use the description of "strewn cards in the road" to depict Las Vegas—on the strip no less; but Provo? I don't know where they came from, but don't worry, I knew where they were going: I picked them up and trashed them in the near-by dumpster.
Saving the world—one porn card at a time.

11.05.2009

The Fun Factor



I wish everything were fun.

11.02.2009

Elang Test/Exam?

I'm not doing very (good/well) right now. Just thinking about this Elang usage test (affects/effects) my physical, mental and emotional well being. The (above/same) has (a/an) historic reputation for causing such discomfort. My professor (implied/inferred) (that) a good grade on this exam could (be) quite difficult to achieve. (If/Whether) I pass this test (and/or) get a good grade, I just might not feel so (bad/badly) about myself. I've (continuously/continually) thought about this test and considered (laying/lying) down to easy the ache at the base of my head; but I (kind of/sort of) think I should stay up and study more. I am (one of those anal types who stress(es)) all the time , and (whoever/whomever) tells me to "calm down" simply is (disinterested/uninterested) in (my) passing this (battery of tests). I (myself) know I'm going to be (all right/alright), but this test is just (different from/than) any other test I've ever taken. Often (one) feels as though they are drifting (farther/further) and (farther/further) away from (their) goals. But (due to the fact that) this test will have (fewer/less) questions than I originally anticipated, I'm sure I (ain't) going to do horridly. The (reason I get stressed is because), (between/among) you and (I/me), I'm simply not prepared. Tests sneak up on me (as/like) a monster in the night. I just (can't not) pass this test. I (shall/will) be successful!

11.01.2009

Happy Halloween!

I dressed up as static cling!

Mary G.-Octopus, Me

Friends :)

Taking pictures while driving--scary!

Fetus pumpkin

Alyson P., Sarah C., Katie P.