tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61306086622091293272024-02-07T03:28:45.960-07:00Dating In Real LifeCeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-49550704340327626772011-08-31T16:09:00.003-06:002011-08-31T16:32:20.083-06:00A Teacher Come From God<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">Tonight starts a new semester. This will be my 14th year teaching a <a href="http://institute.lds.org/">religious education class</a> on campus at Brigham Young University. Close to 6,000 students have sat in my classrooms through the years. Some of them I now call my friends. Some of them I remember fondly and wonder where they are and how they are doing. Some of them I vaguely recall. And still others, I might not know if I tripped over them.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">I would hope that I fall into the first two categories and not the latter two for some of my former teachers. At the very least I love my students while I am with them and then send them off into the world with all of the prayer and blessing I can muster. I have felt that many of my teachers have done the same.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">Whenever I contemplate a new school year, when I consider what kind of a teacher I have become, when I think about what strengths I have yet to develop there are three people I think about. Three teachers who influenced me more than all the others.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Marta Kyte</span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">When I was in fourth grade I had a wonderful teacher. I was delighted when, in sixth grade, she showed up again at the front of one of my classrooms. I have thought of Mrs. Kyte often over the years. We moved to another state when I was in 8th grade and again in the 11th grade. Each new school I looked for a Mrs. Kyte - someone who would make learning fun and inspire my mind with possibilities. Some came close. But none were ever just right.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">There are often days when I sit down to plan a lesson and think, "What would Mrs. Kyte do?" I know that teaching the story of the Children of Israel wandering in the desert for forty years isn't quite the same as teaching 4th graders about civic government. But, she had Kyteland and I put stickers on my students and assign them to one of the Twelve Tribes then make them march around the lecture hall.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">What I learned from Mrs. Kyte is that you have to connect abstract principles with concrete examples or your students never quite grasp the real world application of the things they are learning. I also learned that the more senses you involve in the learning process the more likely they are to make those connections. The more likely they are to remember what you've taught. The more likely they are to be inspired to keep on learning. It's true of nine year olds and it's true of twenty-two year olds just the same.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Matt Richardson</b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">Though he taught at BYU for years, I never took a college class from Brother Richardson. I did attend a lot of talks and lectures as he presented at <a href="http://ce.byu.edu/edweek/">Education Week</a> and <a href="http://ce.byu.edu/yp/efy/">EFY</a>. I bought his "talks on tape" and learned to love his stories. (I've even used a few of them from time to time. I hope that's ok.) I first met Matt in person when I was an EFY counselor. I attended his classes. I watched him with the teenage participants and with the (not much older than that) young adult counselors. He was funny and kind and generous with his time and his talents.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">I learned a lot from Matt about how to teach. Have a lot of energy. Be sincere. Ask questions. Take questions. Read. Write. Talk. Discuss. Explore. Imagine. He always faced tough questions head on but with humility. He clearly knew the scriptures and was a master of making connections from the scriptures, through the Spirit, into the hearts of those who listened.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">The thing about Matt's teaching that has left the most lasting impression was how well he walked the talk. I met his wife and children. I spent time with him and them. I heard them talk to and about one other with love and enthusiasm. I watched how they raised their family and how they ran their home. From Matt I learned that the most powerful teaching we do is when our lives are in harmony with the things we profess to believe.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My Mom</span></b></span></div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">For the four years I was in high school my mother would get up each morning long before dawn. In the dark we would drive down to the church building where she would proceed to teach 15 or 20 sleepy-eyed, high school students about the Gospel of Jesus Christ in that hour before school started each day. She used the Bible and the Book of Mormon and the words of prophets as her texts. She bore testimony with the Spirit. She knew us and she loved us.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">Many days I would come home from school and find her on her bed with books strewn around as she studied and studied and studied. I heard her cry. I heard her pray. I heard her earnest conversations with my dad. She knew that she couldn't impart what she didn't know. She paid the price to know. I try to do the same.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">There are a million reasons why I am grateful to my mother for so many things in my life. But, when I contemplate my role as teacher, it is her role as teacher that has informed the WHY of my teaching more than any other. She loves God. And, she inspired us to love Him as well. I want to do the same for my students this year - and always.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,49-1-26-11,00.html">"We know that thou art a teacher come from God."</a></i></div>CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-84532643818577980462011-08-24T16:35:00.002-06:002011-08-24T17:10:02.252-06:00Back To School<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">Yesterday morning I had a doctor appointment so I left the house a little earlier than usual. I had just returned from a nine day business trip. My head was working out appointments and routines and what I need to get done at work, weighing that against what will actually get done before the day is through.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">I don't have children. I haven't talked to my sister (the elementary school teacher) in over a week. My calendar says it's still summer.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">But.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">As I pulled out of the garage I waved to the neighbors who were on their front lawn taking pictures of each child with shiny, new backpacks. As I drove down the street I found myself in the midst of a parade of parents and little people with lunchboxes and younger siblings in strollers as they made their way to the neighborhood elementary school. As I waited at the crosswalk I watched excitement and hesitancy all wrapped up in new, little shoes as some ran and some shuffled and each were hugged or high-fived by the school mascot in a big, furry costume with a sign around his neck that said, "Welcome Back!"</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jxeawEXQVcirH2U8aaiQX8oLdKe6ZKVF7efsV516tlH5OBuc8WrEIIe52WQX_iIVmqZ4maQNRx-pPfV77rNJjmm27Eb9lBuQqDUcPGV-MeYufDiioOdE06BlVR36iZz9i1oD_qunAzxM/s1600/backtoschool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jxeawEXQVcirH2U8aaiQX8oLdKe6ZKVF7efsV516tlH5OBuc8WrEIIe52WQX_iIVmqZ4maQNRx-pPfV77rNJjmm27Eb9lBuQqDUcPGV-MeYufDiioOdE06BlVR36iZz9i1oD_qunAzxM/s320/backtoschool.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">I made it about a half a block before I burst into tears.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">All my mommy friends spent the day on Facebook sharing those pictures with the shiny, new backpacks and status updates about how hard the first day of school is for them or how brave they were because they didn't cry or how happy they are that their house is now quiet for a few hours each day.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">All I could think all day was, "I may never know what it's like to walk my child to the first day of school." And, then there more tears. Lots of tears. All day long. And now, today, just writing this, there are more tears.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt;">Someone.</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt;">Quick!</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt;">Help me plan a trip to somewhere exotic.</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt;">Or, maybe not plan it.</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt;">I'll just go. All that </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;">spontaneity</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt;"> and sunbathing will make me feel better about being single and childless.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">OK. Probably not.</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">Damn, biological clock!<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>P.S. - To my mommy friends, please don't feel any guilt over my "stuff." I know you have enough guilt in your lives already. Maybe ignore me and go read what this amazing woman has to say about back to school <a href="http://momastery.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-get-very-anxious-about-chase-being.html">here</a> or <a href="http://momastery.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-gifts-and-talents.html">here</a>. It's way more uplifting and helpful.</i></div>CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-21803510333045006922010-09-22T23:55:00.000-06:002010-09-22T23:55:26.055-06:00Nearer My God To TheeDo you ever meet someone who inspires you with a desire to be better than you are?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"Dull disciples will not light the way nor draw people to the kingdom."</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>(Neal A Maxwell)</em></div><br />
A new student came to my class tonight. He was everything that is the opposite of dull - interesting, brilliant, sharp, full of light. He taught me quite a bit this evening as he commented and questioned and bore testimony. When class was over he walked right up to the front of the room and hugged me and thanked me. And I was humbled and grateful.<br />
<br />
I looked into this young man's face and I saw the face of God. And I was filled with love. I was reminded of a desire - not so much buried as frequently ignored - to be equally yoked with a man who radiates such love for God and others. And I was just as quickly reminded of <a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/en/dc/88/36-41#36" target?_blank?="">Doctrine and Covenants 88:40</a> and found myself struggling not to cry as I realized how far I have to go to be worthy of such a man. But, because love was present I found myself inspired rather than depressed.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"For intelligence cleaveth unto intelligence; wisdom receiveth wisdom; truth embraceth truth; virtue loveth virtue; light cleaveth unto light; mercy hath compassion on mercy and claimeth her own; justice continueth its course and claimeth its own; judgment goeth before the face of him who sitteth upon the throne and governeth and executeth all things."</em></div><br />
Do you ever feel a desire for something so much that you literally ache with the wanting of it?<br />
<br />
Very few things inspire that much raw emotion in me. However, I continually ache to BE the woman I desire to BECOME. Simply put, I yearn to be better than I am.<br />
<br />
Full of Faith<br />
Gracious<br />
Loving<br />
Merciful<br />
Confident<br />
Powerful<br />
Healthy<br />
Compassionate<br />
Loveable<br />
Honest<br />
With a House of Order<br />
<br />
I often present myself to the world as if I were this woman. Much of the time I feel like a total hypocrite. But, every so often, I discover that by acting AS IF I am this woman, I have woven a small part of her into the very fabric of my soul.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"In announcing his famous 'as if' principle, William James said that if you want a quality, act 'as if' you already had it. If you want to be friendly, act as if you are already friendly. If you want to be courageous, don't go around talking fear and indulging in negative, un-Christian thinking. If you want to be faithful, act 'as if' you are already faithful. Do the things that faithful people do…Don't go around glorying in your sins and weaknesses."</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>(Sterling W Sill)</em></div><br />
As I talked of Christ with 70 some odd students this evening, I felt that I was closer now to BECOMING the woman I want to BE than I have been in a long time. I was also reminded that the nearer I get to God, the further away I realize I really am.<br />
<br />
But, something about this inspires me to "try a little harder to be a little better."CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-90537497793157736652010-02-12T16:15:00.001-07:002010-02-12T16:23:21.353-07:00Lucky YouDo the people who complain all day long about their jobs ever stop to consider that maybe they should be grateful they even have a job? How I'm feeling right now…yeah, it's kind of like that.<br />
<br />
I'm a pretty passionate person - passionate about my family and my career, easily moved to strong emotion when discussing my faith or my failures, strongly opinionated about quite a few things but always trying to reign in that passion to allow others to be heard and understood. And that passion is all pretty much positive. I'm happy and hopeful and forward looking. I'm content and concerned but optimistic. I realize that my life - even all of the things not exactly as I would wish them - are born of my own choices.<br />
<br />
Consequently, it takes a lot to get me really riled-up angry. Maybe it's just the Valentine's Day vibes in the air but I'm working up a pretty good mad today.<br />
<br />
Every day as I look through my Facebook feed and my Twitter stream I'm so disappointed by how many women feel it necessary to complain about everything they feel is wrong with their lives. But today? Today I find myself getting angrier and angrier at the amount of negativity being spouted about their husbands and children, about their roles as wives and mothers. Does it ever occur to them to be grateful that they have people in their lives to love?<br />
<br />
There are some of us who long to bear the titles Wife and Mother and may never have that opportunity. There are some of us who have so much love to give and find ourselves funneling that energy into other, less worthy, outlets than nurturing a marriage relationship or raising righteous children. Sure, I know it's not all romance and roses and cute, sticky kisses from well-behaved children. I know that, like me, you still struggle with finances and self-image issues and disappointment bred of unmet expectations. Women are women regardless of their marital or parental status.<br />
<br />
But right now I don't even have the hope of roses or sticky kisses. I go home every night to an empty house. And if I have one more friend tell me how much they would love that - I might punch them right in the face.<br />
<br />
I mean, really, at what point does venting frustration go from being an honest expression of current emotion to being something much more consuming? Can they not see that they are becoming negative, unhappy people because that seems to be all they ever focus on? Can they not see the effect this has on their ability to love and nurture their husbands and their children and to feel that love returned?<br />
<br />
Once a month I stand and repeat the words, "prepared to strengthen home and family." And I really try to do that the best way I know how - with my students and my friends and my siblings and their children. I believe that family is the basic unit of society. I know that the role of motherhood is sacred and significant. And if I can't be a mother I want to support the women in my life who do get that overwhelming, sometimes thankless, tiresome but awe-inspiring job. But, listening to some of you it makes me wonder why you ever got married and had children. Sometimes it makes me wonder why I would ever want to. And that makes me sad. And angry.<br />
<br />
So - Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Go love someone for crying out loud - and be grateful that you get to do so.<br />
<br />
END OF RANT!CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-43850862562167228342010-01-26T17:50:00.002-07:002010-01-26T17:55:09.694-07:00Happy New YearIf you know me you know that I LOVE music - and that my taste runs the gamut. (I get that from my mama.) But, recently I came across a <a href="http://elvisenthusiastsunite.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">blog</a> - which led me to a <a href="http://twitter.com/gr8dane74" target="_blank">Twitter feed</a> and a <a href="http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/krcl/guide.guidemain?action=viewPlaylist&playlistID=555877&eventID=104488" target="_blank">weekly radio program</a> - all by a guy I knew in another lifetime (I think it was the summer I was 19). And let me tell you what - this guy knows music. He doesn't know yet but he has introduced me to a whole new world of music in the last few weeks, including this gem: <br />
<br />
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<br />
Thanks, Dainon! <br />
<br />
With all that said, I've been pretty busy the last several weeks setting my business up for a record-breaking year to blog much personally. I wish I had a better excuse, like "spent a month in Bora Bora" or "boyfriend with unmet needs." But, there you have it - I've been doing genealogy. (It's actually a pretty exciting time to be doing what I do let me tell you what. More on that <a href="http://cristacowan.blogspot.com/2010/01/who-do-you-think-you-are-set-to-air-on.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)<br />
<br />
In the midst of all of that personal and professional preparation for an amazing 2010, I've been taking hits from all sides - snarky comments on blog posts, drama with some of my students, clients with completely unrealistic expectations, and on and on. I realize that it's because I've set myself up as something of a target. That will not, of course, deter me from pressing forward. I will do so, ever yearning to be better than I am in every arena.<br />
<br />
Seems that I came across this quote today (made popular again because of Invictus - which I still need to see) at just the right time in my life. I love when that happens!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"It is not the critic who counts;</em><br />
<em>not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,</em><br />
<em>or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.</em><br />
<em>The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,</em><br />
<em>whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;</em><br />
<em>who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,</em><br />
<em>because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;</em><br />
<em>but who does actually strive to do the deeds;</em><br />
<em>who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions;</em><br />
<em>who spends himself in a worthy cause;</em><br />
<em>who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,</em><br />
<em>and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,</em><br />
<em>so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls</em><br />
<em>who neither know victory nor defeat."</em><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>(Teddy Rosevelt, "The Man in the Arena")</em><br />
</div>CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-59929725275785660182009-12-16T18:30:00.000-07:002009-12-16T18:30:40.910-07:00No Clever Musical Title Today. I'm Having Some Deep Thoughts.<div style="text-align: center;"><em>“Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government!”</em><br />
</div><br />
I taught a Sunday School lesson a few days ago on “<a href="http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&locale=0&sourceId=fcb29207f7c20110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=5158f4b13819d110VgnVCM1000003a94610aRCRD" target="_blank">Being Good Citizens</a>.” It was interesting to hear what people had to say. But, somehow I felt like I didn’t quite teach what I was supposed to teach. The discussion never reached the level of a discussion that I felt was useful and inspiring. I don’t know.<br />
<br />
This week I am also teaching my last Institute class of the semester. Last night we talked about <a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/en/alma/4/11_19#11" target="_blank">Alma giving up his position as chief judge to minister full-time to the people</a>. Again, I tried to facilitate a discussion about the the responsibilities of politics and religion. It never quite got there. I’ll try one more time tonight.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, here is my favorite quote of the moment as it relates to this topic.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><em>"One of the best ways to learn what you believe is to learn what others believe, especially those who passionately disagree with you. You've got to understand how someone can be of good conscience and intelligent, look at the exact same issue as you, and come to a position 180 degrees opposite. One enormous problem we have in civil discourse today is that it’s so polarized; People tend to think that anyone who disagrees with them is either stupid or evil. They’re either too dumb to know the right answer, or if they’re smart enough to know the right answer they’re malevolent and want the wrong answer to prevail. To convince someone, you have to answer this question: If your mom came to these views, how would you try to convince her?” ~Ted Cruz (candidate for Texas Attorney General)</em><br />
</blockquote><br />
Also, a link to my <a href="http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/news-releases-stories/religious-freedom" target="_blank">favorite discourse</a> of the moment as it relates to this topic.<br />
<br />
Discuss!CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-71332636567637750972009-12-09T15:12:00.000-07:002009-12-09T15:12:35.125-07:00Let It SnowI went to my company Christmas party on Saturday night without incident. It started snowing on Sunday before church. I made it to Church just fine. But, on my way home I was slipping and sliding up my cul-de-sac and almost didn’t make it up my steep driveway. It continued to snow Sunday and into Monday and again on Tuesday. I didn’t leave my house until Wednesday morning.<br />
<br />
<br />
By the time I got to the office Wednesday morning I discovered a nail in my right front tire. I probably should have stayed home today, too.<br />
<br />
And that’s why you haven’t hear from me for a few days.CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-72098491960307473392009-12-04T10:20:00.000-07:002009-12-04T10:20:12.014-07:00Things Can Only Get Better(TMI Warning!)<br />
<br />
<br />
I woke up 45 minutes late this morning.<br />
<br />
I had no clean underwear and no time to do a load of laundry.<br />
<br />
I washed a pair in the shower with me then threw them in the dryer while I did my hair and ate my breakfast.<br />
<br />
The underwear were not all the way dry by the time I was ready to go.<br />
<br />
(Did I mention I was running late?)<br />
<br />
I put them on anyway. <br />
<br />
I walked out to my car in 17 degree weather. 17 freaking degrees, people.<br />
<br />
Hypothermia has a whole new meaning for me now. I thought I was going to die! D. I. E.<br />
<br />
I dried my underwear using the seat warmers in my car as I drove to work.<br />
<br />
Yep! It’s going to be an awesome day. Because, seriously, it can only get better from here.CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-54170631790360286422009-12-03T02:43:00.001-07:002009-12-03T03:14:43.154-07:00You Ain't Seen Nothing YetIt’s December. I know, chalk one up for Miss Obvious. But, last month I started my <a href="http://datinginreallife.blogspot.com/2009/11/amazing-life.html" target="_blank">40 things to do before I’m 40</a> quest. I figured that I needed to complete one item every 3.9 weeks in order to reach my goal. We are now 5 ½ weeks in and I need to report.<br />
<br />
I participated in <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a> last month. It was a little stressful, super fun, and technically ended in abject failure. But, I’m chalking this one up as a win. See, the deal is that you have to write 1670 words a day -ish, completing a 50,000 word “novel” (and I use that term VERY loosely) in the month of November.<br />
<br />
Do you know how hard it is to write that many words, every day? You’d think as much as I talk that wouldn’t be a problem. But, it was really difficult. Even with an idea that’s been floating around in my head for a couple of years. Even with a fun character who is really my alter ego. Even with tons of resources literally at my fingertips. Seriously. Hard.<br />
<br />
However, a few days of consistent struggle at the beginning of the month led me to a great groove. The first three weeks I busted out 37,000 words. Most of it was total garbage. But, I was writing. Words were flowing. Story lines and characters were emerging. Like I said - super fun! But then I went to Portland for a week. And, not that I’m blaming my family or Thanksgiving or any of the other great things I did that week. But, it was distracting. Good distracting. Meaningful distracting. But, distracting nonetheless.<br />
<br />
I got home last Saturday night with only 51 hours left in the month. Saturday night I wrote a little. Sunday I wrote quite a bit. Monday night I wrote some more. But, alas I ended up with a total word count of 42,461.<br />
<br />
So, I didn’t get the little “You Won” badge the NaNoWri Mo people give out to all the “winners” to put up on their websites or use as their avatar picture or whatever. I don’t get to brag to the guy here at work (who got me hooked on this in the first place) that, unlike him, I succeeded my first year out of the gate. And, I don’t think I can check this off my list just yet because I really want to write an actual novel (or maybe even a series of them).<br />
<br />
But, now I’ve got over 42,000 words to work with. And, you know what else, all that writing led me here and <a href="http://cristacowan.com/" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://blogs.ancestry.com/worldarchivesproject/?p=479" target="_blank">here</a> (yep, all me!). Because, you see, I did A LOT of writing this past month. More than I've ever done in a single month. Maybe even 50,000 words worth. Just not all on my novel. So, I’m not checking this off my list just yet. But, I’m definitely chalking this one up as a win.<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. – I love that I got to use both the words NONETHELESS and ALAS in one blog post. (Shut up! It’s the little things that keep me endlessly entertained.)CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-33649922925135898672009-11-27T11:50:00.000-07:002009-11-27T11:50:39.842-07:00Feels Like HomeI’m home for a few days; home being a relative term, really. I only lived here for about three years and never in this particular house. My family lived in several places in Southern and Northern California until I was thirteen. Then we moved here. Three years later we moved to Washington. About two years later, shortly after I graduated from high school, my parents moved the family back here and have lived here ever since. But, by then I was away at school and never really came back for any length of time. <br />
<br />
When people in Utah ask me where I’m from I typically reply, “Los Angeles.” I only lived there for a few years as a small child. But, both my parents were born and raised there. My 87 year old grandmother still lives there in the house they bought when my dad was five. There are aunts and uncles and cousins that all live in Southern California from the north end of the San Fernando Valley all the way down to San Diego. We spent every Thanksgiving and Christmas there in that house in Tarzana until I was thirteen and many, many since then. I call it home because it is the only location that has been a constant in my life for my whole life.<br />
<br />
Of course, when anyone outside of Utah asks me where I’m from, I call Utah home. After all, I’ve lived there for sixteen years (with the exception of a brief six month stint in New York when I was done with school and trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up).<br />
<br />
And Utah really is home. Every time I fly into Utah whether I’ve been gone for a weekend or month I see those majestic mountains and get a little choked up. There is peace and safety for me in the shadow of the everlasting hills. There are canyon drives and hiking trails, beautiful vistas and great skiing. Utah is home for other reasons, too. Three of my four siblings live there. Three of the four little people who call me Aunt live there. My students are there. Lots of friends live there. In Utah is a job I love, working with people I admire and respect and learn from every day. I live in a place that several of my ancestors helped to settle. Ten of my direct ancestors are buried in cemeteries less than an hour drive from my house. Maybe Utah is in my blood. It is certainly in my heart.<br />
<br />
But, this Thanksgiving week I left Utah. My brother and I came to Portland, Oregon to be with my parents. We’ve laughed and shopped and played games. We’ve driven through beautiful forests and over sun-streaked mountains. We’ve talked and reminisced over old family pictures. We’ve done a little family history. And there has been food – lots of food.<br />
<br />
So, this Thanksgiving weekend as I sit here in the quiet morning hours after a day of football and a feast for four, I am so very grateful for my incredibly full and happy life. I am also grateful that I have many homes – places I can go where I am loved and where I can love. And I pray the same for you!<br />
<br />
<br />
<object height="364" width="445"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t-ouxPhYy7Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t-ouxPhYy7Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-10429582237373784102009-11-23T21:12:00.009-07:002009-12-03T03:15:22.589-07:00Amazing Life!I’ve been blessed to do some pretty amazing things in my life. Hiked the Great Wall of China (twice). Went on a safari in Uganda. Bought my dream car and have taken it on a few road trips. Danced through a green, green field in Ireland looking for the fairies I’m certain were there. Taught at a university (for the last 11 years). Walked the Freedom Trail in Boston. Hiked to the top of the Acropolis in Athens (also twice). Started my own business. Attended the temple faithfully, twice a week for two years.<br />
<br />
The list goes on and on. It’s almost as long as the list of things I still want to do in my life. And some of those things I wouldn’t mind repeating.<br />
<br />
I turned 37 at the beginning of the month. At the risk of sounding obvious – that means I turn 40 in three years. (That’s 36 months for the mathematically challenged among you.) I’m really not as freaked out by that as I thought I would be. It’s actually kind of exciting!<br />
<br />
So, for my annual birthday “wilderness experience” this year (I do that. I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions.) I decided to make a 40 things to do before I’m 40 list. The difference between this and the Bucket List I’ve kept since I was 16 is that these aren’t dreams or lofty, long-term goals. These are just things I want to take the time to do. Things I’m going to start scheduling now.<br />
<br />
The way I figure it, (ooh, more math) that means I have to accomplish one of these things every 3.9 weeks. I’ll keep you posted on how I do. And, if any of you want to join me for any of these things please let me know. Experiences like these are generally best when shared.<br />
<br />
1. Write a novel during <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">NaNoWriMo</a>. (Started this at the first of the month and am already 35,000 words in – give or take.)<br />
2. Read the book about <a href="http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/929527" target="_blank">my grandpa</a> that my mom’s cousin wrote. (I never met him. He died before I was born.)<br />
3. Hike Havasupai (although I may hire a helicopter to fly me out like my brother did).<br />
4. Incorporate yoga into my daily meditation practice.<br />
5. Reread <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Eight-Novel-Katherine-Neville/dp/0345366239" target="_blank">my favorite book</a>.<br />
6. Get all of my grandparents’ slides scanned and published out to the family.<br />
7. Attend the temple once every week for a year and take family names every time.<br />
8. Go whale watching.<br />
9. Take the train up to Victoria, BC.<br />
10. Learn how to tango.<br />
11. Learn to fire a hand gun.<br />
12. Get my grandparents old home movies transferred to DVD.<br />
13. Take a couple snowboarding lessons.<br />
14. Fly in a hot air balloon.<br />
15. Start a separate savings account to purchase the property in Wallsburg.<br />
16. Take voice lessons again.<br />
17. Visit the <a href="http://www.bbg.org/" target?_blank?="">Brooklyn Botanic Gardens</a> on Cherry Blossom Day.<br />
18. Tour Israel.<br />
19. Take my #2 nephew to Disneyland for his 5th birthday – just him and me! (It’s a tradition for the nieces and nephews that I started this year with his older brother.)<br />
20. Visit my gg-grandmother’s grave in New Orleans.<br />
21. Throw a big college years reunion with my friends and their families.<br />
22. Work with the Wyatts to make sure the Utah Historical Monument gets placed at the Mulliner Mill Pond next summer and as many of Samuel’s descendants as possible are in attendance.<br />
23. Exercise my stock options.<br />
24. Hike up to the Diamond Fork hot pots in all four seasons and take pictures. (It’s been years since I’ve been up there.)<br />
25. Send thank you letters to 40 people who have positively influenced me in my life. (1/month)<br />
26. Find a new friend with whom I can have deep, philosophical discussions about important things. (Not that I don’t love my online and/or long-distance friends but I’d prefer this was an IRL friend.)<br />
<br />
Check the final 13 states off my 50 state tour list<br />
27. Alabama<br />
28. Alaska<br />
29. Hawaii<br />
30. Kentucky<br />
31. Maine<br />
32. Michigan<br />
33. Mississippi<br />
34. Montana<br />
35. New Hampshire<br />
36. North Dakota<br />
37. South Carolina<br />
38. South Dakota<br />
39. West Virginia<br />
<br />
40. Throw a HUGE 40th birthday bash with all my family and friends. (I’m thinking a cruise.)CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-85179804661720783312009-11-16T13:27:00.001-07:002009-11-16T13:36:28.460-07:00It's My LifeI’m single.<br />
<br />
Let me be a little more specific. I am female, 37 years old, LDS – and single! As in – never been married.<br />
<br />
I know it really isn’t all that unusual but most of the over 30, never married females in Mormon-dom generally don’t announce their singleness to the world. Not that I’m wearing it as some badge of honor, mind you. But, some go a little extreme the other direction. They hide it as if it were something to be ashamed of. As if we have somehow failed every Primary teacher, Young Women’s leader and seminary instructor we ever had. Some, when confronted with our singleness at family events, Church functions, and, occasionally, in the checkout line at Walmart (WHAT? Really? – Yes!) we play it off with humor or bitterness or act as if that was our master plan all along.<br />
<br />
“I really wanted to serve a mission and finish school before I settled down. So, now that I’ve done that, launched a successful business, bought a home, travelled to 17 different countries, learned 4 foreign languages, purchased a BMW, taken Dating and Courtship 9 times, studied every talk ever given in General Conference about motherhood, AND helped raise my 47 nieces and nephews by being the coolest aunt EVER – now, NOW I am ready to get serious about dating and finding someone to marry and start thinking about having children!”<br />
<br />
Really?<br />
<br />
NO! Not really!CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-31360756294071115632009-11-14T12:47:00.000-07:002009-11-14T12:47:34.931-07:00You Don't Know MeI am completely and totally in LOVE with my family – the whole lot of ‘em. We are close – like can’t keep secrets, share way too much information with each other, vacation together every chance we get – CLOSE. We are a passionate, talkative, funny, competitive, caring, flawed, loving group of individuals who recognize that families really are forever so it helps that we get along so well now.<br />
<br />
Happiness is a choice. I am not waiting for anything or anyone to make me happy. I am happy. Every day. Sometimes deliriously so.<br />
<br />
Travel is important to me. Random, spontaneous travel is better. International travel is best. Last year at this time I was on four continents in two weeks. Loved it! But that was almost too much even for me. I like to spend time in a place and get to know people.<br />
<br />
Expect laughter – because honestly, I am funny! I’m probably not as funny as I think I am but come on, I crack myself up – and then you can just laugh AT me.<br />
<br />
Running late on my way out to Eastern Utah to speak at a fireside one night about twelve years ago, I was pulled over twice within the same hour. I was driving a company car and didn’t have my driver’s license on me. I gave the second cop the first ticket to make the identification process go faster because (DUH!) I was in a hurry. He wasn’t nearly as amused as I was. I haven’t been pulled over for speeding since then.<br />
<br />
I’m always pushing my limits. I want to be the kind of person who does more than I ever thought possible. And that’s a stretch because I dream pretty big.<br />
<br />
A college degree is not required to be my friend – intelligence is, however, a big plus. Speak intelligently. Improve your grammar. Learn how to spell or use spell check. And proofread – or have someone else do it for you. (My mother, the English teacher, taught me well that “you can’t break the rules until you know what they are and how to use them properly.”)<br />
<br />
I worked at Disneyland after my freshman year at Ricks. I make an effort to go back at least once a year – to Disneyland, not Ricks.<br />
<br />
Now, I am a professional genealogist. A guy from high school is my mom’s dentist. Every time she sees him, he asks, “So, is she still doing that genealogy thing?” I told her next time she goes in she should tell him I asked if he was “still doing that dentist thing?” This is my career. And, I love it! And I am VERY good at it.<br />
<br />
Personality and backbone are favorable qualities in a friend. Speaking your mind is important. I WANT to know what you think and feel. I do, however, live by the adage – I can’t have a STRONG opinion about anything unless I know enough to be able to argue both sides. What do you think?<br />
<br />
I love unconditionally and with my whole heart. My love language is Physical Touch. But, I can give love in lots of ways if you just let me know what you need.<br />
<br />
My family once tried to have an entire dinner conversation using nothing but movie quotes. We would have succeeded had I not spent the entire time cracking up at my brothers and doing the running commentary on who was winning the game.<br />
<br />
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<br />
So, there you have it. You don’t know me. But, maybe now you know a little more than you did before. And if you learned nothing else, I hope you caught on to the fact that I start and end with family.CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6130608662209129327.post-35255249533996217702009-11-13T11:30:00.002-07:002009-11-13T12:49:46.159-07:00Been Gone Too LongThere are five of us. I’m the oldest. My youngest brother was the first one married. (We always threatened my grandbaby hungry parents with that fate of waiting. I just don’t think they believed us.) Baby brother was 21 when he got married. I had just turned 30 and was dating an amazing man. Fast forward four and a half years. The twins had weddings two weeks apart the summer they turned 32. Said amazing man got married that same summer – to someone else. A few months later I crossed the 35 mile mark.<br />
<br />
And then there were two.<br />
<br />
The middle of my three brothers reaches 30 in a couple of months. I just turned 37 last week. We’ve spent a lot of time together this year. We tripped around Europe for a few days this Spring. (Hmmm…flaming goat cheese in Athens. Good times.) Shortly after that he moved back to Utah after working in Australia for a couple of years. He’s been crashing at my house since then while looking for a place of his own. He bought a Riverwoods townhouse last Friday.<br />
<br />
It’s been good getting to know him better. I left for school when he was only 10. My brother the 10 year- old: funny kid, a little weird as only little brothers can be. My brother the almost 30 year-old: he’s a pretty incredible man, intelligent, motivated, charming, funny as hell. But, I’m super excited that he’s getting his own place because last night I came home and found him on my couch with a girl. Not that I’m not cheering for him and his hook-up. Yay! But, really? I should be the one getting action on MY couch. And that hasn’t happened in WAY too long.<br />
<br />
I think it’s time for me to get back in the game (ah, but is it a game?) of love.CeCehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12689395575931002223noreply@blogger.com0