Mission Farwell

Saturday I found myself about to blow a fuse. Trapped inside my own brain, and about ready to go insane.... Luckily a friend rescued me, and let me talk it out at the park. Then I came home and ran - it was one of those times when you just need to move, and the burn and shortness of breath feels so good because it's a release and a distraction. Let's just say I was excited and nervous and overwhelmed.

I fell asleep that night, and woke without an alarm around 5:30 the next morning. I lay in bed for about a half an hour before getting up to get dressed... On especially anticipated mornings I usually wake up obscenely early without an alarm - an odd quirk of mine I guess.

I arrived at the chapel early, and then watched in awe as it began to fill with people I love. Some had come from far away, and who had made considerable effort to come. The meeting began, and I teared up as I realized that at least half of the congregation was there for me. Just because they love and care about me.

My talk went fairly well I think - I didn't break down in tears, and I think I managed to say what it is that I wanted to. I bore my testimony, and then spent the next few hours hugging people I love.

Can I just say that I love hugs? Due to this fact, Sunday was one of the best days ever. I got some great hugs. It was difficult to hug some people and realize I won't get to again for a very long time, but that's the nature of the game I guess.

A few of my friends who had come all the way from Logan for my farewell came to my house afterwards. Riley expressed his condolences that he hadn't made it to go dancing with me all summer - and then Dalon pointed out that there was a perfectly good kitchen floor present. So I danced in the kitchen with those two boys, both of whom I adore from the depths of my heart. Never dared to dream I'd find a man that would danced with me in the kitchen... who'd have thunk I'd find two on the very Sunday I say goodbye to the world to leave as a missionary? Haha. My life is so awesomely ironic sometimes.

Sunday night rolled around. I'd had a great time with my family, a good chance to play my oboe in a rehearsal, and was all around feeling superb. I was exhausted, but had enjoyed my day so thoroughly that I didn't want it to go to bed, cause that means it'd be over...

I wonder if this is kind of how my mission will be. I'll begin with nervous excitement. Then I'll run around like crazy- working hard and having many poignant moments. Moments where I feel pure joy, but also moments of sadness - and it'll all pass by in a whirlwind, and when I get to the end I won't want to be done, cause I know that it won't come again. I'll want to wake up the next morning and live it all over again....

I kind of hope that's how it goes anyways :)

I've been hunting for a job next year...

So far nothing has been fruitful... I've had two screening interviews and one job interview.

I believe that Heavenly Father knows where I need to be and will guide me there.... but is it bad that I'm kinda starting to consider moving to Taiwan if I don't get offered a job in Utah soon?

This weekend I'm alone.

My family took off for Idaho and the funeral of my Great Grandmother Lois. I have fond memories of writing her letters and visiting when I was younger, and oh how I wanted to go to Idaho to see my family and attend the service. However, I was fortunate enough to get a job interview, so I stayed home for that.(It went pretty well actually, I'm keeping my fingers crossed and would appreciate an extra prayer if you feel like sending it my way!)

Today was ILP day. ILP stands for "International Language Programs" and "I love pancakes" simultaneously. I met up with some of the girls from my China group and we stuffed ourselves full of breakfast-type foods at IHOP.We had a ball together, and then this evening I returned home to an empty house. A large, lonely, empty house. But actually, in a way it's nice to be alone. I've discovered that I'm more productive when I'm on my own.

To illustrate: post 7 pm I went grocery shopping, shoveled all our snow, organized the food I'll cook tomorrow after church for my family, cleaned the kitchen, and finished the laundry. Now I sit here and type as I rekindle my deep and abiding love for berry herbal tea.

And I'm proud to report that it's actually been a perfect sort of evening. I wouldn't want to spend every evening this way... but tonight: it was just right.

I haven't died.

I've just been hunting for a good story to tell....

I'm back in America! Which you prolly were already quite aware of. 

Be back soon :)

Graduation

Yeah. That's me on there... crazy sauce right?

This lovely announcement is courtesy of of the brilliant Dora Poon.

Fender

Sharlee's boyfriend is cool. He got me a fish. Seeing as I've managed to kill 4 goldfish this semester... he was smart and got me a sturdier specimen.

Meet Fender:

Yes, he is named after the guitar brand.

He may be an ornery and temperamental Betta, but he's very pretty, and he hasn't died yet.

Hooray for keeping fish alive!

Silence

It's eerily quiet in my apartment.

This is largely due to the fact that my goldfish and I are the only two living beings here right now. And really, my fish isn't much for making noise.

Unless Belle shows up sometime (which is highly unlikely) we will be the only two here for an entire week...



It's kind of sad.


(Oh. And yes, I got goldfish for my birthday :) Admiral Beerbelly and Squirt kicked the bucket after only two days... I'm hoping Han Solo will last slightly longer.)

Yup. Sometimes life is just like that.

I tried so hard today.

So hard.

For most of the last 12 hours I have been doing something church related. I have been trying to strengthen the kingdom. Take care of the saints, strengthen souls, build Zion, you know... all that good stuff.

And it was a wonderful day. Because the days when I am serving the Lord the most are always the most wonderful. Until I went back in my room, and my fish, my dear Zoe, was dead.

I know you are saying, "But Krystal, you only had Zoe for three days." But what you don't understand is, that I was sincerely attached to her. I introduced her to almost everyone that came over to my apartment. I've talked to her, and agonized over how much to feed her. And now she's gone.

I haven't taken her out of the bowl yet. She's still laying there because I know that when I have to take care of it I'm going to cry. I'm near unto tears just thinking about it.

Between that and all of the people who I've worried over today... I'm just emotionally exhausted. And I wanted to shake something and scream at how unfair life is. Instead tonight I looked up and asked God how much longer the little things were going to keep going wrong, and how the heck I am going to have the strength to deal with them -- if my goldfish dying reduces me to tears than what am I going to do when the rest of my life falls apart later?

And I realized that it's never going to get easier. In fact, I know it's just going to get harder. But that's ok. Because I'm on the winning team. Christ is on my side, and he'll help me find joy - he already does. I can't expect things to be easy for me, because they never were easy for him. And plus, every day I have the chance to laugh and marvel at something good he has placed in my life. He loves me so much.

And as I long as I keep that in mind everything else will be fine.

Twitterpation is in the air

The online urban dictionary defines twitterpated as: "an enjoyable disorder characterized by feelings of excitement, anticipation, high hopes, recent memories of interludes, giddiness, and physical overstimulation which occur simultaneously when experiencing a new love. These feelings take over without warning, usually at odd times (such as at a check-out line), with or without the partner present, and make it difficult to concentrate on anything but romance. They interfere with work and safe driving, but should be experienced at least once in every person's lifetime."

Fabulous definition right?

Lately it seems that everyone (excepting for myself of course) has caught this bug. And in a way I'm supremely glad that I don't have to deal with it... but in another way I'm kind of jealous. Only slightly though. It's kinda fun to be able to walk into a room and see them sitting there, grinning like a fool as they go about whatever task they happen to be engaged in. The teasing that is associated with twitterpation is a lot of fun too. But I don't envy the stress and worry that comes with it. At all.

Also: being a third wheel can get old quick. And being a 5th wheel is about eight and a half times worse than being a 3rd wheel.

But golly, spring is coming, and I can tell. It's great :)

"I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday, and I love today." -William Allen White

I was remembering. Remembering a night, a night not too long ago, a night when I cried. Tears of perfect joy rolled down my cheeks. I watched the sunset, just me and my Heavenly Father, and I told him that I knew life was going to change soon, because nothing so perfect lasts long... and I thanked him for allowing me that time. For allowing my life to be perfect for that little while.

I was remembering. Thinking of that time, that night, and I started to wonder. Why is it that moments of perfect joy and happiness have to be marred by the knowledge that the beauty will soon end? Why does the messy future have to creep in and mock the perfect stillness of that serenely beautiful moment?

But then I remembered. During the messy chaos of life, I am visited by a memory. A memory with an orange sunset, watery eyes and a soul that was soaring. And I realized: that evening visits me during the chaos. The chaos may mock me during the calm, but the knowledge that I will have another moment, another evening in the sunset, with just me and the Lord: that promise sooths my soul, because I know it will come again.

The Pretty Girl Theory

Tonight I found myself talking to Alan. For some reason... I'm not exactly sure how it came up... but we were talking about my nonexistent dating life. Alan told me that the reason I don't often get asked out is because I am 'too amazing.'

I was extremely tempted to argue with him, but I bit my tongue, and thanked him for the complement.

He was proud of me for doing so :D

BUT. I don't believe that lie. I mean seriously, how many of us have heard the whole: "well, you are too intimidating, you are beautiful and amazing, so all the boys are too afraid to ask you out" spiel? Do any of you really buy it?

I never have. I've always felt that the 'you are too amazing and intimidating' line was just a fancy way of saying "I don't know what is wrong with you, but I'd like to make you feel better, so if I tell you that you're amazing that might just get me off the hook of having to say anything else."

So... I decided to tell Alan that I've never believed that line. And then he decided to share with me his 'Pretty Girl Theory' -- which he said I was a classic example of.

His theory went something like this:
You see weird crazy girls getting married all the time... which causes other girls, who aren't quite so bizarre, to sit back and think, 'what the heck is wrong with me?' But really... the only thing that is wrong, is that they are too pretty and too intimidating for the nice humble mormon boys to ask out, because these boys think that they aren't good enough to get a beautiful, nice, and cool girl. They won't ask the pretty ones out, because they figure there are lots of 'better guys,' therefore she couldn't want to be with them.
So then, there are also the jerk mormon guys, who will only ask out the really pretty girls, because all they want to do is have some fun, until the girl dumps him, and then he moves on.
So, when you get a girl who is both beautiful, and who sticks up for herself and lives her standards, then you run into a problem. Because all the normal guys are too scared, all the jerk guys won't bother because they know she won't put up with them, and that leaves the girl sitting at home wondering why the only guys who ever occasionally call are the extremely bizarre ones that can sometimes be a little creepy.

Ok. Does anyone else think that this is just an elaborate edition of the 'you are too intimidating' line? Cause I think it kind of is. I know plenty of girls who are both completely beautiful, and talented and amazing, and they are dating wonderful guys. So what I wanted to ask was... why does the "Pretty Girl Theory" apply to me and not to them?

Now I have to quickly insert a disclaimer. ***I am not complaining that I am not currently dating anyone. I am happy as a clam at the moment, and quite enjoying being single. This is all just food for thought, because I'm tired of trying to convince people they don't need to feel bad for me.***
Now that that's off my chest and clarified....

The terrible thing about this scenario tonight was that I couldn't tell him that I didn't buy into what he was saying... because he was sitting there telling me that I am beautiful and wonderful and great, which is super flattering (even though the guy telling me that wasn't doing so directly, and is engaged to another girl...) And how can you tell someone they are full of it, when they are feeding your ego in such a sincere and unassuming way?

Ok. So now my last question: all you girls out there who the "Pretty Girl Theory" seems to apply to... do you buy into this line? And I hope your answer is no, because what I really want to know is... what do you say to all the well-meaning "attached" people who give it to you?

How do you graciously get them to quit feeding you this junk?

A lovely night...

Wanna know why?

I'm propped up against my pillows, snuggling under my electric blanket and homemade quilt. My pj's are on, and my teeth have been brushed! After passing my Aikido demonstration this evening (I apparently have earned one stripe on my white belt, just in case you were curious), I came home and curled up with a book. Not a text book, not study notes, and no homework: a fun book.
The lights occasionally flicker on and off, and the wind is howling ferociously outside. But I am snug as a bug in a rug. Isn't it nice to be able to curl up comfortably, and know that you are protected from the weather raging all around you? Just the thought of going outside makes me shiver. But for now I am very comfortable, with a drowsy kind of peace, and ready to go to sleep soon.

Boys are Stupid.

Not because they make life confusing.

And mess with your emotions.

And make you feel the need to spend forever trying to look pretty.

And break your heart.

And confuse the heck out of you.

No. Those are all reasons enough that boys are completely terrible. The worst offense they commit though is that... (drum roll please) ...

they steal your best friends.

One moment you are dreaming about the future with her, laughing, staying up too late, sharing inside jokes and doing fun things, and the next thing you know she doesn't want to spend any time with you anymore... because everything in life comes second to "him".

And then you become extraordinarily jealous. Not necessarily because she has someone to hold her and you don't.... but because she loves him so much more than you. Because she'll go hours out of her way to spend a bit of time with him... but can't find 10 minutes to say hello to you anymore.

It's a very tragic thing: it seems that even the closest friendships, the ones you think can survive anything no matter what, tend to become very rocky when a boy gets in the way.

Breaking Tradition

When my Great-Grandmother was my age she was married.

When my Grandmother was my age she was married.

When my mother was my age she was married.

I am 19 years old. I will only be 19 years old for another 4 days.

I am about to break a family tradition, and I feel quite good about the whole thing. It puts me in mind of the movie "Fiddler on the Roof," when he sings "TRADITION" in that loud booming voice, and proclaims the importance of keeping traditions to the world.

He'd probably be upset with me for being so happy about breaking mine. Haha

Goodbye's

I've always wondered why it hurts to leave the people you love... even when you know that it won't be for very long.

I decided a while ago that the reason is: when you love someone you give them a piece of your heart, and it stays with them when you leave. So while it hurts real bad to say goodbye, the beautiful thing is, that when you see them again you know it's going to be happy, because that part of you comes back.

I'm lucky to have so many people in my life that I can love; but it does make for some painful goodbyes.

Lucky-

to be in college.

to have a family who loves me.

to have a job.

to have the coolest roommates ever.

to have time to play!

to have friends that care enough to call.

to have Thanksgiving so close!

to have hands that do whatever I tell them to.

to go to USU!

to have my last formal observation behind me :D

that it's friday!