So living in the Italian House definitely has its perks :) My roommates are FABULOUS and everyone eats well at least five nights a week among other things. However, just as in any language, the learning process is a little rough, especially since I am one of the few in the entire complex that speaks only two languages, Italian being my second. Thus, there are instances like the following:
Dinner time (cena: CHAY-nuh). We were having spaghetti and of course, with nearly any pasta dish and italians, there is much cheese. So I asked in italian, "Passare il pomeriggio." I got a few strange looks, and then someone noticed what I was gesturing for. I said it again, "Passare il pomeriggio, per favore?" wondering if it would get passed if I said please. Then someone said, "Passare cosa?" (pass what?) and I again replied, "Pomeriggio!" And the whole table began to laugh. The word for cheese is FORMAGGIO. Pomeriggio means afternoon. I was asking someone to pass the afternoon. And now, in my honor, no one calls it formaggio anymore in the casa italiana. They call it pomeriggio. And now a few people from the Portuguese house say it too.
Cena, round two. We were having small steaks, and the House is supposed to provide many of the kitchen ammenities like plates, utinsels, pots, pans, etc., but apparently no one has gotten around to buying steak knifes. I had a butter knife, and my efforts to manneristically cut and eat my meat were in vain. So I asked if someone had a cavallo, what I thought was knife. A reaction similar to the one above happened. I asked if they had a horse. Cotello is knife.
And at the very beginning of the semester, which has also not been lived down, was after cena when we had ice cream (gelato: jell-AHT-oh) for desert (dolce: DOLE-chay). Mind, this was VERY early in the semester, and I've only just begun to learn the language. My roommate asked me, in italian, which kind I wanted. I wanted one scoop of each, but I didn't know how to say it. So, I said, "Uno.... scoopo... of each?" Which of course is wrong. I suppose I was feeling desperate. Again, everyone laughed. At least all of these moments are funny to me too. So, the right way to say one scoop of each (and I only just looked this up because I don't know how to say 'scoop') is: Un mestolo di tutti e due. (oon mest-ole-o dee too-tee ay doo-ay).
At any rate, the italian is coming. Slower than actually living in Italy because I go to school in English, but it's definitely helping. And right now, I have two chapters of homework to do before tomorrow morning. Allora, Ciao i miei amici e mia cara famiglia. Padre Celeste e guarda tutti di noi. I love you all :) ~Kimberlì.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Thank you so much is not enough.
I was going to write something entirely different, but I was blessed to be reminded that there are still some outstanding people out there, the kind that really will do anything to put a smile back on your face.
For those of you who read this, and as far as I know, it is my mother, sometimes a cousin or two, and an old mentor from band years past, I have my moments. Tonight was one of my moments and I am struggling with what I really am going to do with my life and how it is going to be, particularly over the next month or two. I took time tonight to play the piano and let my energy flow out from my fingertips. It's better than smashing my favorite mug, which I was tempted to do...
Anyway, eventually through my thoughts, I found myself kneeling at the piano bench in the common room, praying. I was just finishing when one of my friends from the Spanish house walked through. I haven't really talked to him very much at all, but he was kind enough of course to ask if I was ok. I nodded, choking over words and tears. I turned to leave, and he asked me for a hug. If he knows it or not, he was definitely a small answer to my prayer. I go home, feeling a little better, still thinking. I sit down on the couch with my scriptures, journals, and a bit of homework. Then someone knocks on the door, but all my roommates are home. It's close to midnight at this point. I open the door and there he is with a pitcher and something in it. He told me that whenever he feels upset, two things always help: the scriptures and a smoothie. He had gone back to his apartment and made me a strawberry-banana smoothie. I was so shocked and impressed at the same time that I'm still not sure what to say but mumble thank you and give him another hug. It's people like him that make this world one worth living in.
2 Nephi 32:8-9
"And now, my beloved brethren, I perceive that ye ponder still in your hearts; and it grieveth me that I must speak concerning this thing. For if ye would hearken unto the Spirit which teacheth a man to pray ye would know that ye must pray; for the evil spirit teacheth not a man to pray, but teacheth him that he must not pray.
But behold, I say unto you that ye must pray always, and not faint; that ye must not perform any thing unto the Lord save in the first place ye shall pray unto the Father in the name of Christ, that he will consecrate thy performance unto thee, that thy performance my be for the welfare of thy soul."
For those of you who read this, and as far as I know, it is my mother, sometimes a cousin or two, and an old mentor from band years past, I have my moments. Tonight was one of my moments and I am struggling with what I really am going to do with my life and how it is going to be, particularly over the next month or two. I took time tonight to play the piano and let my energy flow out from my fingertips. It's better than smashing my favorite mug, which I was tempted to do...
Anyway, eventually through my thoughts, I found myself kneeling at the piano bench in the common room, praying. I was just finishing when one of my friends from the Spanish house walked through. I haven't really talked to him very much at all, but he was kind enough of course to ask if I was ok. I nodded, choking over words and tears. I turned to leave, and he asked me for a hug. If he knows it or not, he was definitely a small answer to my prayer. I go home, feeling a little better, still thinking. I sit down on the couch with my scriptures, journals, and a bit of homework. Then someone knocks on the door, but all my roommates are home. It's close to midnight at this point. I open the door and there he is with a pitcher and something in it. He told me that whenever he feels upset, two things always help: the scriptures and a smoothie. He had gone back to his apartment and made me a strawberry-banana smoothie. I was so shocked and impressed at the same time that I'm still not sure what to say but mumble thank you and give him another hug. It's people like him that make this world one worth living in.
2 Nephi 32:8-9
"And now, my beloved brethren, I perceive that ye ponder still in your hearts; and it grieveth me that I must speak concerning this thing. For if ye would hearken unto the Spirit which teacheth a man to pray ye would know that ye must pray; for the evil spirit teacheth not a man to pray, but teacheth him that he must not pray.
But behold, I say unto you that ye must pray always, and not faint; that ye must not perform any thing unto the Lord save in the first place ye shall pray unto the Father in the name of Christ, that he will consecrate thy performance unto thee, that thy performance my be for the welfare of thy soul."
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Che cosa???
So as many of you may know, I am actually living in Foreign Language Student Residence (FLSR) this fall. Many people ask me, "Why Italian?" and wonder what I can do with it. I take it because I love it and I have always wanted to. I don't want to be one of those people down the road who wish they would have learned this or taken a certain class in college and never did. It is such a beautiful language and I really do see this as a great privilege and opportunity to learn it and participate in such a unique program. I moved in earlier this week with the help of my mother and sister and I am still calling them up to find where they put certain things. I still haven't found my grapes I bought....
I also have the special and divine privilege to be ROOM roommates with the Resident Facilitator (RF), who speaks fluent Italian after serving a mission. She is basically the person who helps and supervises the rest of us to make sure we are always speaking in Italian and helps us with anything else we may need. She has been such an awesome help to me and already I have learned so much and found that I know at least a little more than I think I do. The program is very well organized and layed out; we can only speak Italian in the apartment to each other and also to the boys in the Italian house. Church is in English for Sacrament and Relief Society, but Sunday School is in Italian. The Sacrament Prayer is spoken in a different language each week (today was Spanish). We are not supposed to watch any English television or movies aside from the news. Five nights a week, Sunday through Thursday, we are to attend dinner group with both Italian houses and engage in Italian conversation.
So today, the boys of the Italian house were so kind as to invite us over for lunch after church. The boy's RF I believe is straight off the boat Italian and is very friendly. We of course introduced ourselves, said where we were from and what our major was. I must say that there are some points where I feel incredibly lost and this was one of them. Following dinner we played 2 Truths and a Lie. I think it went ok. Whenever I was asked a question, I just made a statement and hoped that it was the answer to what I was asked. And I wanted to say some things at one point, but didn't know how. And several times I leaned over to the person next to me and whispered "cosa?" meaning "what?" I do have my moments wondering what in the world I have done, but then I get back to the comfort of my own apartment and study and try to talk to some of my roommates and feel much better. And I'm not the only one with limited Italian experience; one of the girls hasn't taken any classes yet. All in all, I must say that I am having most likely one of the best experiences I will have in my entire life. I do pray for help from the Lord, and I also am having a growing faith in the belief of the gift of tongues!
I also have the special and divine privilege to be ROOM roommates with the Resident Facilitator (RF), who speaks fluent Italian after serving a mission. She is basically the person who helps and supervises the rest of us to make sure we are always speaking in Italian and helps us with anything else we may need. She has been such an awesome help to me and already I have learned so much and found that I know at least a little more than I think I do. The program is very well organized and layed out; we can only speak Italian in the apartment to each other and also to the boys in the Italian house. Church is in English for Sacrament and Relief Society, but Sunday School is in Italian. The Sacrament Prayer is spoken in a different language each week (today was Spanish). We are not supposed to watch any English television or movies aside from the news. Five nights a week, Sunday through Thursday, we are to attend dinner group with both Italian houses and engage in Italian conversation.
So today, the boys of the Italian house were so kind as to invite us over for lunch after church. The boy's RF I believe is straight off the boat Italian and is very friendly. We of course introduced ourselves, said where we were from and what our major was. I must say that there are some points where I feel incredibly lost and this was one of them. Following dinner we played 2 Truths and a Lie. I think it went ok. Whenever I was asked a question, I just made a statement and hoped that it was the answer to what I was asked. And I wanted to say some things at one point, but didn't know how. And several times I leaned over to the person next to me and whispered "cosa?" meaning "what?" I do have my moments wondering what in the world I have done, but then I get back to the comfort of my own apartment and study and try to talk to some of my roommates and feel much better. And I'm not the only one with limited Italian experience; one of the girls hasn't taken any classes yet. All in all, I must say that I am having most likely one of the best experiences I will have in my entire life. I do pray for help from the Lord, and I also am having a growing faith in the belief of the gift of tongues!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Refutation.
IN REBUTTAL to my mother's most recent blog post entitled "Funniest Story Ever" (found at fransonfunnyfarm.blogspot.com) I want to bring up a few points in no particular order:
1. Upon hearing the intense and loud rattling, shaking sound, I did not know what it was, and I did not want to find out. I am afraid of mainly two things in this mortal life: being spiritually dead in the next and snakes. All fears are miniscule in comparison, and other fears or grievances I can at least handle. These I cannot bear to think about. So, in the case that the shaking, moving thing was a snake, I didn't want to take a closer look.
2. If fears can be inherited (and in this case I most certainly believe they can be) then ALL of my family- with the exception of Judson who has no fears and my dad whose feelings toward snakes I am not certain- have the deepest, most intense fear and loathing toward any form of snakes. Pictures, toys, stuffed animals, movie clips, sounds, ANYTHING. Once I saw a film about freak animal stories. There was one where a snake got in the plumbing and was in the toilet. I now always check. So, in light of this fear that runs in my family, I believe that has it happened to any one of us we would be at the least a bit startled.
3. I was the child that, because I was the bravest, was nominated at or around the age of 9 to clean out the spider infested window well. At the far end lay the doormat that was blown in by the wind. As I went to pick up the mat and put it in its proper place, I saw several slimy and long tailed creatures. I thought they were snakes then too, but again I did not want to stick around long enough to find out. Turned out, it was four salamanders and six frogs (I think) and we kept them all as pets for a short period of time. One of the frogs was a chameleon-like and we later found its skeleton roasted to death on top of the space heater. I can stand to look at reptiles and amphibians only from behind glass. These experience have made me forever cautious.
4. My mother had warned me earlier that day that she had found several hobo spiders in the laundry so I was to keep an eye out for any in mine. Hence, I was already a little wary of finding something. I do not handle nervousness well.
5. And, of course, as most people say in their defense when something foolish happens, (i.e. it was bigger, scarier, harder, meaner, etc.) the noise WAS indeed louder the first time it happened. It is true, this is no lie. And it shook harder. In fact, the second time I spun the wheel it was the closest sound we could make to it, but not quite as drastic as I remembered. I was still afraid to find something later on in my suitcase.
6. The point about waking up Judson: yes, I went down and was the one who put him back to sleep. In literally less than two minutes time. I told him I was sorry that I scared him and that it's ok and he can go back to sleep. And he did with absolutely no trouble at all.
7. Lastly, it was late. We were all tired, and when one is tired, everything, fears, sounds, funny moments, are amplified. And that was most certainly the case in this situation. So yes, it was funny, but remember that blonde is not a hair color, it is a state of mind in which we all fall victim to from time to time.
1. Upon hearing the intense and loud rattling, shaking sound, I did not know what it was, and I did not want to find out. I am afraid of mainly two things in this mortal life: being spiritually dead in the next and snakes. All fears are miniscule in comparison, and other fears or grievances I can at least handle. These I cannot bear to think about. So, in the case that the shaking, moving thing was a snake, I didn't want to take a closer look.
2. If fears can be inherited (and in this case I most certainly believe they can be) then ALL of my family- with the exception of Judson who has no fears and my dad whose feelings toward snakes I am not certain- have the deepest, most intense fear and loathing toward any form of snakes. Pictures, toys, stuffed animals, movie clips, sounds, ANYTHING. Once I saw a film about freak animal stories. There was one where a snake got in the plumbing and was in the toilet. I now always check. So, in light of this fear that runs in my family, I believe that has it happened to any one of us we would be at the least a bit startled.
3. I was the child that, because I was the bravest, was nominated at or around the age of 9 to clean out the spider infested window well. At the far end lay the doormat that was blown in by the wind. As I went to pick up the mat and put it in its proper place, I saw several slimy and long tailed creatures. I thought they were snakes then too, but again I did not want to stick around long enough to find out. Turned out, it was four salamanders and six frogs (I think) and we kept them all as pets for a short period of time. One of the frogs was a chameleon-like and we later found its skeleton roasted to death on top of the space heater. I can stand to look at reptiles and amphibians only from behind glass. These experience have made me forever cautious.
4. My mother had warned me earlier that day that she had found several hobo spiders in the laundry so I was to keep an eye out for any in mine. Hence, I was already a little wary of finding something. I do not handle nervousness well.
5. And, of course, as most people say in their defense when something foolish happens, (i.e. it was bigger, scarier, harder, meaner, etc.) the noise WAS indeed louder the first time it happened. It is true, this is no lie. And it shook harder. In fact, the second time I spun the wheel it was the closest sound we could make to it, but not quite as drastic as I remembered. I was still afraid to find something later on in my suitcase.
6. The point about waking up Judson: yes, I went down and was the one who put him back to sleep. In literally less than two minutes time. I told him I was sorry that I scared him and that it's ok and he can go back to sleep. And he did with absolutely no trouble at all.
7. Lastly, it was late. We were all tired, and when one is tired, everything, fears, sounds, funny moments, are amplified. And that was most certainly the case in this situation. So yes, it was funny, but remember that blonde is not a hair color, it is a state of mind in which we all fall victim to from time to time.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Home is where the heart is.
Being a college student and having all the time in the world to organize for yourself usually leads to a number of things, ie procrastination, watching all the TV you never got to as a child...,but along with this also comes ponderous and growing experiences. I've learned how to really cook to my own liking and preference and however much I may deny it I've also become more grateful to my parents and see that they knew a little bit-maybe alot- more that what I was giving them credit for. One thing though, that has particularly come to my mind in the past year is the definition of a place to call home. I'm not one to use webster or verbal types and definitions, but seriously, at this point in my life, I have referred to many places at home. Blackfoot, for one, is my personal address. This past summer, for two, in Vancouver has been my home. And then there is Utah, Provo specifically, where I have lived in 5 different apartments over the space of 12 months, and that doesn't include moving everything between the semesters back to Idaho.
Once more, this next Monday, I am moving from my current unoccupied apartment to the Italian Foreign Language Housing on campus at BYZoo. Move out and move in day are the same for both places which is really nice. And although I am afraid and quite intimidated when I think that I will not be living in an English speaking home, I am also looking forward to possibly learn something new about what home is, being around and involved in a different way of communication with the girls I will be living with. I don't think I'll speak much besides hello for the first couple of weeks. I suppose that I should just go for the cheesy way to describe home: where your heart is, where your friends are, where your family is, where the love is. Ha. Then I guess I have no solid, definite place I can call home. I find it everywhere.
Once more, this next Monday, I am moving from my current unoccupied apartment to the Italian Foreign Language Housing on campus at BYZoo. Move out and move in day are the same for both places which is really nice. And although I am afraid and quite intimidated when I think that I will not be living in an English speaking home, I am also looking forward to possibly learn something new about what home is, being around and involved in a different way of communication with the girls I will be living with. I don't think I'll speak much besides hello for the first couple of weeks. I suppose that I should just go for the cheesy way to describe home: where your heart is, where your friends are, where your family is, where the love is. Ha. Then I guess I have no solid, definite place I can call home. I find it everywhere.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Story of my life.
So here's what I've been up to this summer:
Wake up around 7:30-8. There's no time to get ready or pretty because I start feeding and chasing kids from the time I step out of bed. Then cleaning and referreeing begins.
In the midst of cleaning and getting projects done, Trevor and Andrea ask if I can play with them outside, and usually not very nicely. Trevor especially can't take no for an answer and finds every and any living excuse to jump on, tackle, and or hit me. Sometimes I can go and play with them, but most of the time I have to get cleaning and laundry done. And Diane has me doing house projects, like painting, clearing out the garage, washing cabinets, etc.
Leah goes down for a couple naps during the day which is when I can get most of the work done. In between is lunch, usually sandwiches, and one of the multiple times a day I clean the kitchen and do the dishes.
Dinnertime rolls around and since Jared has diabetes we can't do quick pasta or high carb foods. Diane and I both have to get after Andrea and Trevor several times to set the table, the whole table. Then after dinner it's mass madness to keep the kids cleaning up after dinner, sweeping and clearing the table, etc. then we fight them to get to scriptures and prayers and bed around eight pm. After we send them upstairs, Jared and Diane yell up the stairs for them to get to sleep and quit playing. Then they each have to come downstairs twice because they're extremely dehydrated and need a drink despite a glass of water right before going upstairs and/or are starving in which case they may have a single piece of bread, no butter. And they still don't get to sleep most times until around ten. Then I crash downstairs and study my Italian and/or watch whatever Jared and Diane have on.
Singles FHE and activities have gone out the window. Friends are busy with school and summer stuff so I never hear from anyone unless I call. No money to go out, but no where to go if I do. Some summers, you just have to get through until the next point. According to Jared and Diane I've lived in a hole since I haven't seen much SNL or comedies. And they laugh at me. I guess it's not too bad. Certainly could be worse. So I'm grateful :)
Wake up around 7:30-8. There's no time to get ready or pretty because I start feeding and chasing kids from the time I step out of bed. Then cleaning and referreeing begins.
In the midst of cleaning and getting projects done, Trevor and Andrea ask if I can play with them outside, and usually not very nicely. Trevor especially can't take no for an answer and finds every and any living excuse to jump on, tackle, and or hit me. Sometimes I can go and play with them, but most of the time I have to get cleaning and laundry done. And Diane has me doing house projects, like painting, clearing out the garage, washing cabinets, etc.
Leah goes down for a couple naps during the day which is when I can get most of the work done. In between is lunch, usually sandwiches, and one of the multiple times a day I clean the kitchen and do the dishes.
Dinnertime rolls around and since Jared has diabetes we can't do quick pasta or high carb foods. Diane and I both have to get after Andrea and Trevor several times to set the table, the whole table. Then after dinner it's mass madness to keep the kids cleaning up after dinner, sweeping and clearing the table, etc. then we fight them to get to scriptures and prayers and bed around eight pm. After we send them upstairs, Jared and Diane yell up the stairs for them to get to sleep and quit playing. Then they each have to come downstairs twice because they're extremely dehydrated and need a drink despite a glass of water right before going upstairs and/or are starving in which case they may have a single piece of bread, no butter. And they still don't get to sleep most times until around ten. Then I crash downstairs and study my Italian and/or watch whatever Jared and Diane have on.
Singles FHE and activities have gone out the window. Friends are busy with school and summer stuff so I never hear from anyone unless I call. No money to go out, but no where to go if I do. Some summers, you just have to get through until the next point. According to Jared and Diane I've lived in a hole since I haven't seen much SNL or comedies. And they laugh at me. I guess it's not too bad. Certainly could be worse. So I'm grateful :)
Sunday, June 21, 2009
CAUTION: Some of this content is rated PG for toilet humor:)
I know that I haven't been very consistent in my postings, but part of that as of late is because of drastically reduced time with internet access. I am currently living- I suppose, if you want to call it that- in Vancouver, Washington. I was able to find a job just days after arriving at my aunt and uncle's place. I work for US lawns landscaping company. It's alot of gruntwork, mowing lawns, weeding, using BIG power tools (teehee), but the pay is excellent and it should give me a nice financial cushion before Fall semester.
So, just a little about my adventures in the Pacific Northwest: We actually did go to the coast for a couple of days and the beach was COLD!!! I didn't think I'd moved to Alaska, but the wind was blowing and I was freezing. Definitely not swimsuit weather and none of us got in the water. We ate lots of great seafood and played on the sand and looked for creatures in the tidepools. Every time we found a starfish, the kids would yell, "PATRICK!" like from Spongebob. I have no idea what anyone sees in that show, but they seem to like it. My favorite reference/connection to that movie, which is rather pathetic, comes from a Jay Lenno episode. He asks a question to some random standbyer, "Who lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?" The person in question has no clue. Then, he asks, "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" Of COURSE, the person can correctly identify the residence of a children's cartoon character. If you don't know who lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, heaven help us all, and this country.
As for the kids, they're fantastic. I had the opportunity to live with another aunt in Springville, UT toward the end of last fall semester. All the kids are so much younger than me that I sometimes accidentally refer to them as neices/nephews instead of cousins. Even when talking about my grandparents Diane (Vancouver aunt) calls them my parents by mistake. Anyway, these kids are just a riot. Trevor, who recently celebrated his 6th birthday and heaven help ANYONE who forgot it for a second, is a budding comedian. I sometimes call him Trevina among other things, and so he came up with a nickname for me: Kimmode, and he says it like it's supposed to be spelled. So basically he calls me a walking toilet. Another time, after family prayer I was getting a hug from Andrea, 8, and she had just taken a bath. I have no idea where Trevor got this idea, but Aunt Diane and I were rolling in laughter. I was squeezing really hard, kind of to tease her, and Trevor was waiting for his turn. So he pipes up, "Ew! Andrea, I can smell your butcrack from here!" And in his singsong tattle voice, "Kiiiiimm!! Andrea doesn't wipe!!" And Diane and I started laughing. That's only one of the many Trevorisms I've experienced. More to come :)
To wrap this up and keep some people in the loop, right now I am actually sitting at the Bend, Oregon, airport waiting for my connecting flight to Salt Lake City. I spend an evening and a morning in Provo, take the bus to SLC again, the shuttle to Idaho, and then come back to SLC on Thursday for my sister's wedding, and Saturday morning I get back on a plane to Vancouver where I remain until August 24th most likely. So to all of you I will see, I am very much looking forward to seeing you! And for those I will miss, I am sorry, but I am DEFINITELY looking forward to seeing you next fall! Arrivederci mi amici!
"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge [H]im, and [H]e shall direct thy paths." -Proverbs 3:5-6
So, just a little about my adventures in the Pacific Northwest: We actually did go to the coast for a couple of days and the beach was COLD!!! I didn't think I'd moved to Alaska, but the wind was blowing and I was freezing. Definitely not swimsuit weather and none of us got in the water. We ate lots of great seafood and played on the sand and looked for creatures in the tidepools. Every time we found a starfish, the kids would yell, "PATRICK!" like from Spongebob. I have no idea what anyone sees in that show, but they seem to like it. My favorite reference/connection to that movie, which is rather pathetic, comes from a Jay Lenno episode. He asks a question to some random standbyer, "Who lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?" The person in question has no clue. Then, he asks, "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" Of COURSE, the person can correctly identify the residence of a children's cartoon character. If you don't know who lives at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, heaven help us all, and this country.
As for the kids, they're fantastic. I had the opportunity to live with another aunt in Springville, UT toward the end of last fall semester. All the kids are so much younger than me that I sometimes accidentally refer to them as neices/nephews instead of cousins. Even when talking about my grandparents Diane (Vancouver aunt) calls them my parents by mistake. Anyway, these kids are just a riot. Trevor, who recently celebrated his 6th birthday and heaven help ANYONE who forgot it for a second, is a budding comedian. I sometimes call him Trevina among other things, and so he came up with a nickname for me: Kimmode, and he says it like it's supposed to be spelled. So basically he calls me a walking toilet. Another time, after family prayer I was getting a hug from Andrea, 8, and she had just taken a bath. I have no idea where Trevor got this idea, but Aunt Diane and I were rolling in laughter. I was squeezing really hard, kind of to tease her, and Trevor was waiting for his turn. So he pipes up, "Ew! Andrea, I can smell your butcrack from here!" And in his singsong tattle voice, "Kiiiiimm!! Andrea doesn't wipe!!" And Diane and I started laughing. That's only one of the many Trevorisms I've experienced. More to come :)
To wrap this up and keep some people in the loop, right now I am actually sitting at the Bend, Oregon, airport waiting for my connecting flight to Salt Lake City. I spend an evening and a morning in Provo, take the bus to SLC again, the shuttle to Idaho, and then come back to SLC on Thursday for my sister's wedding, and Saturday morning I get back on a plane to Vancouver where I remain until August 24th most likely. So to all of you I will see, I am very much looking forward to seeing you! And for those I will miss, I am sorry, but I am DEFINITELY looking forward to seeing you next fall! Arrivederci mi amici!
"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge [H]im, and [H]e shall direct thy paths." -Proverbs 3:5-6
Saturday, May 16, 2009
My Road Not Taken
I promise I did not forget about my blog! This past month just been riddiculously crazy. Among other things, I visited my family in Idaho, had my wisdom teeth removed, attended two of my sister's bridal showers, rode (past tense of ride?) in an ambulance with my youngest brother (everything's fine now :) ) came back to Provo, and job searched my guts out. I'm just grateful that I no longer have classes to add to the pile.... for now at least.
So in searching for a job this summer I have also been searching myself. First, I needed to make a resume (I don't know how to do those accents over the "e" yet). I compliled a list of everything I have ever done, as instructed by my ward employment specialist. I used to be somewhat proud about the fact that I have done nearly everything from weed mapping to fast food to teacher's assistant. Now, however, I realized that with no specific specialties or certifications that I am just an average Jane and just like anyone else is looking for some extra cash this summer. And with the supposed economy down- which I think is TOTALLY bogus and in the minds of Americans so if we just get our attitude and act together things would be JUST FINE- businesses are cutting back. Students, particularly college students, are staying in Utah fearing that if they give up their job for the summer they may not get it back in the fall. And then there's the fact that I waited two weeks after the semester to officially hand in many of my applications. It was during those two weeks that I believe I felt the sickest and most awful in my entire life. I had all four impounded wisdome teeth removed. I was starving and felt sick to my stomach because I couldn't eat enough to settle the medicine that was supposed to be taken with food. But I was afraid of throwing up because my sister, who had the same thing done just a month before, got a dry socket and was out sick for longer because the acid got into the wrong places in her mouth and made things worse. My cheeks were so swollen that I bit them and made them bleed when they were still numb. I really hope that technology speeds up, because if I EVER have to go in for mouth surgery or anything again, I would almost insist on morphine or SOMETHING to never feel that way about anything else for as long as I shall live. We'll see how childbirth goes.
Anyway, probably too much information there for ya, so back to my job. Resume complete, hair pulled back and dress pants on, I go biking and walking and bussing through center street, the malls, to Utah work services, and anywhere I think I might have a chance. More often than not I get a nope, we're not hiring. I began taking applications from the places anyway, knowing that if they did get in the hiring mood again they would have me right there. For two or three weeks, no luck, no calls. Actually even a few calls that say, thanks for your interest, but we're not hiring. We'll keep hold of your resume though! Bummed. So I call my mom, keeping her updated on the hunt and it's prospects, and we decide that I best move home. Dad has a friend whom I used to work for that I could get on with again, and there's always Rupe's, the restaurant I worked at in high school and even some over the holidays. So that's it. I'm moving home. Not gonna lie, I cried. I have friends here, I have a life here, and I have options. More than back home at least. So I call up those two places, and, being the nicer small town people they are, both said they would love to hire me. Unfortunately, my dad's friend (actually the weed-mapping job) said that he didn't know if he could afford to pay the ones he's got already, and Rupe's just hired three new workers and are full for the summer. Yep. Another strike. Instead of being home and jobless, I decide to stay in Provo, jobless.
Searching again in Provo, I go to the malls again, and even hit a few stores I hadn't before. At this point, I am desperate. I do get a few prospects! I took an application for a jewelry store and a games shop and some apparel places. A couple (including the jewelry shop) look pretty optimistic. I'm still waiting for those calls, but I know it is Memorial Day weekend....
Third part. Vancouver, Washington. I have an aunt and uncle who are remodling a good portion of their home. Mostly the kitchen, guest room, and yard. With my aunt expecting (which I JUST BARELY found out through all of this...) they thought it would be nice to have some extra help around to take care of kids and help with the projects. It's only a couple of weeks, but hey, it's a job! I must say that I am greatly looking forward to it. I haven't seen them in ages because they live so far away. And I will get to ride a plane! I haven't been on a plane since I was eight years old. Teehee... Anyway, talking to them today about my grim prospects with great hope, my uncle does mention that I maybe, MAYBE could get a well-paying job there in Vancouver for the whole summer. This, however, is still just maybe news. But I would quite enjoy a summer in the exotic far away place of Washington....
So, Provo, Idaho, Washington. All in search for a job. Where will I end up? I know not. But through all of this I have been praying alot, writing in my journal alot, and even reading some old journals in my spare time. I have recently filled another and I can't believe how much I have changed. My thoughts are definitely different along with my priorities, but my mind is the same: random and somewhate scattered. But thorough. At least I like to think so. And, as clearly evident here, I like to write. Alot. especially when I've got something on my mind. I tend to say what I think and say before I think. Therefore, I write what I think and often write before I think as well. I should work on that. It's not just once that my serious sanity is questioned. Still, I don't know where I'll go or what I will do or become. But, recently after reading the book of Ruth, I come to the famous scripture:
"...Intreat me not to leave the, or to return from the following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God."
So I don't know if it really matters where I go just so long as I am faithful and go with God as Ruth does with pure intent of heart. My favorite follow up scripture comes from the next chapter as Boaz is talking to Ruth:
12 "The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust."
I love this because it shows the blessing that Ruth is given because of her dedication among other things. This woman is my scripture hero. Later she becomes an ancestor to King David and even Christ Himself. Faith like hers, I don't know if there is any greater, but some just as equal. Right now, I suppose I am having a string of "but if not" moments. It's things like this though, that teach me something. I'll be the first to admit that legally I am an adult, but I am still growing up. I don't see anything wrong with that. And as long as I am with God and have faith that He will guide me te become what I need to become, I'll be happy wherever I go and with whatever it is I shall do.
So in searching for a job this summer I have also been searching myself. First, I needed to make a resume (I don't know how to do those accents over the "e" yet). I compliled a list of everything I have ever done, as instructed by my ward employment specialist. I used to be somewhat proud about the fact that I have done nearly everything from weed mapping to fast food to teacher's assistant. Now, however, I realized that with no specific specialties or certifications that I am just an average Jane and just like anyone else is looking for some extra cash this summer. And with the supposed economy down- which I think is TOTALLY bogus and in the minds of Americans so if we just get our attitude and act together things would be JUST FINE- businesses are cutting back. Students, particularly college students, are staying in Utah fearing that if they give up their job for the summer they may not get it back in the fall. And then there's the fact that I waited two weeks after the semester to officially hand in many of my applications. It was during those two weeks that I believe I felt the sickest and most awful in my entire life. I had all four impounded wisdome teeth removed. I was starving and felt sick to my stomach because I couldn't eat enough to settle the medicine that was supposed to be taken with food. But I was afraid of throwing up because my sister, who had the same thing done just a month before, got a dry socket and was out sick for longer because the acid got into the wrong places in her mouth and made things worse. My cheeks were so swollen that I bit them and made them bleed when they were still numb. I really hope that technology speeds up, because if I EVER have to go in for mouth surgery or anything again, I would almost insist on morphine or SOMETHING to never feel that way about anything else for as long as I shall live. We'll see how childbirth goes.
Anyway, probably too much information there for ya, so back to my job. Resume complete, hair pulled back and dress pants on, I go biking and walking and bussing through center street, the malls, to Utah work services, and anywhere I think I might have a chance. More often than not I get a nope, we're not hiring. I began taking applications from the places anyway, knowing that if they did get in the hiring mood again they would have me right there. For two or three weeks, no luck, no calls. Actually even a few calls that say, thanks for your interest, but we're not hiring. We'll keep hold of your resume though! Bummed. So I call my mom, keeping her updated on the hunt and it's prospects, and we decide that I best move home. Dad has a friend whom I used to work for that I could get on with again, and there's always Rupe's, the restaurant I worked at in high school and even some over the holidays. So that's it. I'm moving home. Not gonna lie, I cried. I have friends here, I have a life here, and I have options. More than back home at least. So I call up those two places, and, being the nicer small town people they are, both said they would love to hire me. Unfortunately, my dad's friend (actually the weed-mapping job) said that he didn't know if he could afford to pay the ones he's got already, and Rupe's just hired three new workers and are full for the summer. Yep. Another strike. Instead of being home and jobless, I decide to stay in Provo, jobless.
Searching again in Provo, I go to the malls again, and even hit a few stores I hadn't before. At this point, I am desperate. I do get a few prospects! I took an application for a jewelry store and a games shop and some apparel places. A couple (including the jewelry shop) look pretty optimistic. I'm still waiting for those calls, but I know it is Memorial Day weekend....
Third part. Vancouver, Washington. I have an aunt and uncle who are remodling a good portion of their home. Mostly the kitchen, guest room, and yard. With my aunt expecting (which I JUST BARELY found out through all of this...) they thought it would be nice to have some extra help around to take care of kids and help with the projects. It's only a couple of weeks, but hey, it's a job! I must say that I am greatly looking forward to it. I haven't seen them in ages because they live so far away. And I will get to ride a plane! I haven't been on a plane since I was eight years old. Teehee... Anyway, talking to them today about my grim prospects with great hope, my uncle does mention that I maybe, MAYBE could get a well-paying job there in Vancouver for the whole summer. This, however, is still just maybe news. But I would quite enjoy a summer in the exotic far away place of Washington....
So, Provo, Idaho, Washington. All in search for a job. Where will I end up? I know not. But through all of this I have been praying alot, writing in my journal alot, and even reading some old journals in my spare time. I have recently filled another and I can't believe how much I have changed. My thoughts are definitely different along with my priorities, but my mind is the same: random and somewhate scattered. But thorough. At least I like to think so. And, as clearly evident here, I like to write. Alot. especially when I've got something on my mind. I tend to say what I think and say before I think. Therefore, I write what I think and often write before I think as well. I should work on that. It's not just once that my serious sanity is questioned. Still, I don't know where I'll go or what I will do or become. But, recently after reading the book of Ruth, I come to the famous scripture:
"...Intreat me not to leave the, or to return from the following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God."
So I don't know if it really matters where I go just so long as I am faithful and go with God as Ruth does with pure intent of heart. My favorite follow up scripture comes from the next chapter as Boaz is talking to Ruth:
12 "The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust."
I love this because it shows the blessing that Ruth is given because of her dedication among other things. This woman is my scripture hero. Later she becomes an ancestor to King David and even Christ Himself. Faith like hers, I don't know if there is any greater, but some just as equal. Right now, I suppose I am having a string of "but if not" moments. It's things like this though, that teach me something. I'll be the first to admit that legally I am an adult, but I am still growing up. I don't see anything wrong with that. And as long as I am with God and have faith that He will guide me te become what I need to become, I'll be happy wherever I go and with whatever it is I shall do.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Still kickin'
I think someone is trying to kill me, but whoever it is is not doing a very good job. I have had quite a few scares lately; I have had a number of what feel like to me near-death experiences. Granted, I am still a teenager, and as such the stories may be a bit exaggerated. But since I began living in "the city" I have considered obtaining life insurance. For instance, where I am from, there are no exaggerated hills that people insist on building upon, much less place a college campus. One night, not long after my arrival, I go off to visit a friend of mine. Skipping down the hill I go. Unaccustomed to having the ground fall out from under me, my dear beloved feet decide to improve dance and I end up with a swollen ankle the size of a grapefruit sitting in the hospital from about 11pm to 3am. On top of that I had a paper due and so I sat in the hospital waiting room trying to get it done before 8am class.
Instance number two, not as specific or dramatic, but still frightening. DO PEOPLE IN UTAH KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?! Seriously, I've seen the most erratic and odd things in this place. A dear friend of mine, with whom I have no qualms with her driving skills, said to me in the defense of the great state of Utah that it is filled with so many tourists and college students that are unfamiliar with Utah traffic laws, so when they see something different, they are unaware that the witnessed maneuver (or hand signal) is perfectly legal. But at the rate I have seen people drive, I have yet to see any law observed. The other night I was walking to Wendy's about a mile or so away from my home. I observed the little white man on the crosswalk light and the little simulated bird telling me it was ok to cross, so I went. Apparently the car who's misfortune landed him at the red light became impatient. He zoomed forward, screeched on his brakes, apparently now aware that there IS a pedestrian using the LEGAL crosswalk but was still going so fast that he sped just a yard or so in front of me. At first I thought it could have been a glitch with the lights. No such luck for the idiot. The light was still red.
Instance number three (this one I found to be more funny than dangerous). I was walking up the hill to campus on this long, HOT day, when I hear this loud POP! and the cry of a small child. It was FAR too loud to be a balloon- I know what that sounds like. I also know what a gunshot sounds like. I literally turned around to see who or what was shot and to desperately look for cover. All I saw were the cars at the intersection hardly stopping for one another or the pedestrians, and a mother with a twin stroller. Apparently one of the tires on her stroller spontaneously blew up or something, hence the loud air-popping noise that echoed off the cement walls. I asked her if I could help in any way, she politely declined. I was still trying hard not to laugh at myself.
But the clincher, and this one has been building up all semester, would have to be the Finals conspiracy. See, BYU accepts really smart kids, but still turn away thousands of applicants. So they try to kill the rest of us off so their acceptance rates increase along with tuition income. How do you kill a smart kid? By making him feel unsmart. This plan is so brilliant, its disguise tries to imply that it is really just making the smart kids smarter, making them work harder, 'building character.' The course material and content is twice as great, the exams designed so that it is impossible to obtain an A, and the finals- all you can do is pray and hope you remembered to pay your tithing this month. Today this conspiracy came at me from both sides. I had walked all the way up to the Wilkinson Center, shuffling through the masses of people eating and studying and moving boxes, when I realized that my student ID card left itself at home. I had to go all the way back through the blazing temperatures and hustle of people to my apartment, search for my card and get back to the Wilkinson Center all in twenty minutes before the test closed. I got there just in time. Closing time was not going to send this girl home empty handed today. Immediately following, I raced down to the testing center for my next target, only to find that the line at the testing center, and I assure you, this is NO exaggeration, was 1/4 to 1/2 a mile long. It wound around the footmazes upstairs, down the hall and out the back door, beyond the Joseph Smith building, down the sidewalk between the Benson building and ESC, and even rumored to reach the MARB at one point. At the rate students were joining, you would think Disneyland had relocated and built Splash Mountain inside the testing center. I got in line when it was a bit shorter- just in front of the JSB and I waited for nearly an hour and a half. A friend of mine waited for two and a half. By the time I was out, I had less than 40 minutes to prep and review for my scheduled 2-hour final that evening. I did my best, and that is all that I can give. C's get degrees, and D is for Diploma my friend. If needs be that I retake a class, I will be ready, I will be waiting.
So I haven't died yet and have no reason to, unless after my recent habit of staying up late causes me to sleep myself to death. It's probably not a good idea to post this, giving my mother the idea that I am in mortal danger every day living in this jungle, especially since I am trying to convince her that I should get a donor- I mean motorcycle this summer. Right Mom, I know, you trust me, you just don't trust them. Well, place all your worry aside! I've been duking it out since I got here, and I'm still alive and kicking, aren't I?
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." --Psalms 23:4
Instance number two, not as specific or dramatic, but still frightening. DO PEOPLE IN UTAH KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?! Seriously, I've seen the most erratic and odd things in this place. A dear friend of mine, with whom I have no qualms with her driving skills, said to me in the defense of the great state of Utah that it is filled with so many tourists and college students that are unfamiliar with Utah traffic laws, so when they see something different, they are unaware that the witnessed maneuver (or hand signal) is perfectly legal. But at the rate I have seen people drive, I have yet to see any law observed. The other night I was walking to Wendy's about a mile or so away from my home. I observed the little white man on the crosswalk light and the little simulated bird telling me it was ok to cross, so I went. Apparently the car who's misfortune landed him at the red light became impatient. He zoomed forward, screeched on his brakes, apparently now aware that there IS a pedestrian using the LEGAL crosswalk but was still going so fast that he sped just a yard or so in front of me. At first I thought it could have been a glitch with the lights. No such luck for the idiot. The light was still red.
Instance number three (this one I found to be more funny than dangerous). I was walking up the hill to campus on this long, HOT day, when I hear this loud POP! and the cry of a small child. It was FAR too loud to be a balloon- I know what that sounds like. I also know what a gunshot sounds like. I literally turned around to see who or what was shot and to desperately look for cover. All I saw were the cars at the intersection hardly stopping for one another or the pedestrians, and a mother with a twin stroller. Apparently one of the tires on her stroller spontaneously blew up or something, hence the loud air-popping noise that echoed off the cement walls. I asked her if I could help in any way, she politely declined. I was still trying hard not to laugh at myself.
But the clincher, and this one has been building up all semester, would have to be the Finals conspiracy. See, BYU accepts really smart kids, but still turn away thousands of applicants. So they try to kill the rest of us off so their acceptance rates increase along with tuition income. How do you kill a smart kid? By making him feel unsmart. This plan is so brilliant, its disguise tries to imply that it is really just making the smart kids smarter, making them work harder, 'building character.' The course material and content is twice as great, the exams designed so that it is impossible to obtain an A, and the finals- all you can do is pray and hope you remembered to pay your tithing this month. Today this conspiracy came at me from both sides. I had walked all the way up to the Wilkinson Center, shuffling through the masses of people eating and studying and moving boxes, when I realized that my student ID card left itself at home. I had to go all the way back through the blazing temperatures and hustle of people to my apartment, search for my card and get back to the Wilkinson Center all in twenty minutes before the test closed. I got there just in time. Closing time was not going to send this girl home empty handed today. Immediately following, I raced down to the testing center for my next target, only to find that the line at the testing center, and I assure you, this is NO exaggeration, was 1/4 to 1/2 a mile long. It wound around the footmazes upstairs, down the hall and out the back door, beyond the Joseph Smith building, down the sidewalk between the Benson building and ESC, and even rumored to reach the MARB at one point. At the rate students were joining, you would think Disneyland had relocated and built Splash Mountain inside the testing center. I got in line when it was a bit shorter- just in front of the JSB and I waited for nearly an hour and a half. A friend of mine waited for two and a half. By the time I was out, I had less than 40 minutes to prep and review for my scheduled 2-hour final that evening. I did my best, and that is all that I can give. C's get degrees, and D is for Diploma my friend. If needs be that I retake a class, I will be ready, I will be waiting.
So I haven't died yet and have no reason to, unless after my recent habit of staying up late causes me to sleep myself to death. It's probably not a good idea to post this, giving my mother the idea that I am in mortal danger every day living in this jungle, especially since I am trying to convince her that I should get a donor- I mean motorcycle this summer. Right Mom, I know, you trust me, you just don't trust them. Well, place all your worry aside! I've been duking it out since I got here, and I'm still alive and kicking, aren't I?
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." --Psalms 23:4
Salve!
It's mid-morning now, something that has become quite familiar to me as a college student. I've had countless all-nighters, many late night movies, and no boyfriends. This is how I like it, no matter how much I seem to deny it sometimes. Like most college students, I have learned to open up and explore new things in the world to discover who I want to become. I already know who I am; the title of my blog means "I am a daughter of God," and I firmly believe that to be true. Over the past year or so I have had alot of good experiences that I don't feel have all been shared or even written in my journal, so hopefully this might help me keep track of my life (we'll just see how it goes). Among those things I have graduated high school, come to college and met some of my very best friends in the world. I have broken into locked closets and houses (my own) and fished for shoes using a hanger and a straightener cord. I have stolen bedroom doors (NOT my own ;) ), moved more times within seven months than I have in my entire life, and above all I am learning how to deal with failure.
I do not always see the Lord's reason for why things happen the way they do, especially now at this crucial time in my life where every decision can directly affect my future. But when I do have those aha moments, more often than not it is because I see the love that I have from my friends, family, and Heavenly Father. Today, for instance, at the close of the semester, my home teachers wrote me a final letter of encouragement. They shared a scripture and a thought that I found particularly special to me because of recent and past events.
" 'If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from thy hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up' (Daniel 3:17-18). The 'but if not' response is one that we also need in our lives. We all have 'but if not' moments- times when despite all we may do, things may not go our way. We may try out best and do all we can with all our faith, but it just might not happen. Just because things don't work out the way we want, doesn't mean they won't work out the right way. In out 'but if not' moments, we can always know that the Lord knows us and knows what we can be."
Yep. That's right. I have the best home teachers ever. It is because of these moments- and of course the fact that I truly do love them- that I feel that I have been blessed with such wonderful friends and family. Sometimes I wish I could say or do something that could show how much I really do care, but that's kind of the point. I believe that love, especially love with the Spirit, is truly such a powerful and inexpressable gift from God. Only those who love us in return can begin to comprehend how we feel about them. That is why I believe that we only understand a small inkling of God's love for us. Sometimes we lose track in our "but if not" moments, but when we return to Him and express to Him our love and desire for all things good, that is when we begin to feel the fulness of His love.
Anyway, it is still mid-morning, rapidly approaching dawn, and this girl ought to study a bit more and grab a couple hours of sleep.
Arrivederla,
Kimberlee
I do not always see the Lord's reason for why things happen the way they do, especially now at this crucial time in my life where every decision can directly affect my future. But when I do have those aha moments, more often than not it is because I see the love that I have from my friends, family, and Heavenly Father. Today, for instance, at the close of the semester, my home teachers wrote me a final letter of encouragement. They shared a scripture and a thought that I found particularly special to me because of recent and past events.
" 'If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from thy hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up' (Daniel 3:17-18). The 'but if not' response is one that we also need in our lives. We all have 'but if not' moments- times when despite all we may do, things may not go our way. We may try out best and do all we can with all our faith, but it just might not happen. Just because things don't work out the way we want, doesn't mean they won't work out the right way. In out 'but if not' moments, we can always know that the Lord knows us and knows what we can be."
Yep. That's right. I have the best home teachers ever. It is because of these moments- and of course the fact that I truly do love them- that I feel that I have been blessed with such wonderful friends and family. Sometimes I wish I could say or do something that could show how much I really do care, but that's kind of the point. I believe that love, especially love with the Spirit, is truly such a powerful and inexpressable gift from God. Only those who love us in return can begin to comprehend how we feel about them. That is why I believe that we only understand a small inkling of God's love for us. Sometimes we lose track in our "but if not" moments, but when we return to Him and express to Him our love and desire for all things good, that is when we begin to feel the fulness of His love.
Anyway, it is still mid-morning, rapidly approaching dawn, and this girl ought to study a bit more and grab a couple hours of sleep.
Arrivederla,
Kimberlee
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