I have an issue with fonts. Like the choice of "font" that some businesses use for their signs, letterhead, etc. I was thinking about this as I was in the Portland, OR Airport looking at the signs above me in the terminals. Terrible choice of font for their big "B15" or "Baggage Claim" signs. It really bothered me.
Then I remembered how much I hate the font on Steelers jerseys. I don't like the Steelers to begin with, but add that lame font in and I can hardly stand it. I'd much rather stare at the Eagles' jerseys all day. At least they had the sense to do some "shadowing" with their numbers.
I noticed it more during the March Madness, staring at so many different college basketball teams and jerseys. I believe a jersey should have big, deep, block letters/numbers and it will look good, and professional. A choice of a simple "Arial" font for numbers and letters is cheap and ugly. Here is an example of the perfect jersey... according to Bree:
I also think it's funny when a store has a big sign out front, and I think, "Oh, that's 'Comic Sans' or 'Jokerman'"... and it ruins the whole thing because it doesn't seem real or professional anymore.
Anyway, those are my random thoughts for today. I apologize if I have forever tainted you, now that you might be obsessively judging and rating the fonts on everything around you. :)
I always include some kind of picture or clipart for my posts... but what do you put for a post about gangs? I certainly don't want to put real pictures of gangs, because those are just depressing and often disturbing. I even looked for "gang clipart" and most results include "Mickey Mouse gang" and "Peanuts gang" and an old 90's TV show "The Get Along Gang." (Seriously! I remember that show!) Anyway... I will just write and share, yet, another experience at the Boys & Girls Club today.
Let me give you a brief history of my childhood and teenage years. (Please take no offense to any "stereotyping" that might take place... it's just how I saw things growing up and viewed certain situations).
I grew up in San Jose, CA and was often the minority among my friends. I was the "white girl", if you will, and had only a few close friends at school. I hated my school years, actually-- super insecure and not comfortable with the social status scene and everything else going on. I remember the druggies; I remember the gangsters; I remember the snobby people that everyone "loved"; I remembered the nerds; I remembered the too-good-for-you jocks who ran the show. And I was somewhere in between all of that. Lots of people loved their middle school and high school years, but I am totally okay not ever going back there. The coolest thing for me was that I played the drum set and not many girls did that... so that was a plus.
I remember I was scared to go to the mall because that's where all the gangsters were. Or anyone seemed intimidating, for that matter, and I always felt like a "not so cool" person. Then my family moved to York, Pennsylvania the middle of my 11th grade year... and as much as I hated that change in the beginning, it was great. I wasn't a minority anymore and seemed to fit in better with my band friends and softball buddies. I could go shopping and feel at ease and not have to "watch my back" or anything like that. I still wasn't a fan of school but it seemed a little easier and a little less intimidating. And I wasn't sad to leave CA. It's been nearly 15 years since we moved and I have been back to San Jose once... which I guess goes to show how much I didn't mind moving away from that "scary place."
I graduated high school, went to BYU for 4 years (loved it!!) and found myself back in Pennsylvania a few months after graduating. I landed a job as a Youth Program Director at the YMCA in York and had some great eye-opening experiences. First of all, the YMCA was in downtown, York... the "ghetto", as some might call it. There were gun shootings in neighboring streets and sometimes it was a little nerve-racking to walk to my car in the parking lot at night. But for the most part, I liked my job and the environment didn't really phase me.
I soon took on responsibilities as the teen advisor for a "Youth in Government" program. It was for high school students who met weekly to discuss their own ideas for bills to debate and eventually try to pass in the house and senate. (Yeah, I know nothing about politics and what-not so it was a hoot trying to pretend I knew that kind of stuff). But these kids were awesome and I grew to really care about them. Most of them were gay or lesbian-- boys and girls-- and there were all kinds of love triangles going on. Sometimes I lost track of who was with who, and who had been with who, etc. It was drama all over the place. They were black, white, Latino, or multi-race... and I was the token white Mormon girl. :) But they loved this club and showed up weekly and we had so much fun together. In the beginning, I didn't tell them I was Mormon... I was still in that "shy/timid" phase about sharing the gospel and didn't want to deal with questions or criticism. But one week I told them I was going to Utah and wouldn't be there the following week. One kid said, "Ewww, why do you want to go to Utah? There's tons of Mormons there." And another kid nudged him and said, "C'mon man, what if she WAS Mormon?!" So it was a nice, awkward moment... and finally I exhaled and said, "Yep, I'm Mormon!" So that was that, and from then on there were all kinds of questions or opportunities for me to clarify things they'd heard... mostly from "South Park". :)
We would go to conferences with other groups from PA and they'd throw up a "gang-like 'M'" sign and yell out, "MorMON!" and give me props. I really tried to keep them from doing that-- mainly because it was super embarrassing and my little ghetto kids already stood out in a sea of "proper white kids" as it was. But I loved their diversity and I loved their pride for who they were. Gay or not, poor or not, ghetto or not, they were proud of who they were and worked hard. That was 7 years ago and I am still in touch with all of them today. I love that! My hope is to get us all together one day so we can laugh about how crazy things were, and celebrate our successes and how grown-up we are now. Granted, they'll give me a hard time for not being married and make funny Mormon jokes, but kids are kids.
Now for the whole point of this post: (WOW I sure do ramble sometimes!)
If you ever wondered if there were gangs in Utah. Yes. Lots of them. More than you would think. I've attended the annual "Utah Metro Gang Unit" conference the past 2 years and have certainly been educated by law enforcement and other officials on all the gangs around, their colors, their signs, their numbers, their enemies... pretty much everything I need to know while working in an environment that needs to remain safe. When I first started working at the Boys & Girls Club in Midvale (located between Salt Lake City and Sandy)... the teen center had quite a few little gangsters. You see them right away-- long navy blue T-shirts, Blue Cortez or Converse, Belts hanging down, shaved heads, etc. Yet we still let them in the Club as long as they weren't "promoting" their gang or doing any harm. They just wanted to play pool or sit on the couch with their girls. Gradually the teen program changed... I enforced more structure and more productivity. This year we started a new education emphasis which requires the teens to separate by grade into groups to work on homework everyday. Yeah, gangsters don't like that stuff... so needless to say, we don't have a lot of gangsters that come to the program anymore. I didn't intend to lose those kids, or to create a program that wouldn't appeal to them. It was just the result of how things happened. The sad thing is some of our "good, normal kids" have stopped coming to Club and have since found an alternative.
Join a gang. THE gang.
It's sad to see a kid one day in his usual clothes and a happy-go-lucky attitude... and a few weeks later he's become one of them. Just like that. Everything has changed, from his clothes to his countenance, and it's a tough thing to try to get them back. I still encourage them to come to Club, while they're still kind of an individual... but eventually they mesh with the group and then they all move around in a pack, like their individuality has dimished for good.
Our little gangsters (avg. age 14-16) like to tag up Midvale. And it's not cool graffiti in any way... just dumb tagging to make things look ugly. Or I guess to "claim their territory." They like tagging so much that they tagged up our Club van... and a few days later tagged up our Club bus. That was kind of a low blow. My boss was super angry, took pictures, gave them to the cops... but nothing could be done since no one really saw anyone doing it. But we know who all the kids are... we know their names, we know their friends... we even know the "leaders" and who's really calling the shots. My boss is the bomb and I love him. He's cool and really understands kids-- especially those who are rough around the edges-- and he gives them so many chances to change and prove that they can be better. But in the past few months, they got one too many chances and really burned the respect that they'd ever been given from the Club. Just down-right disrespectul kids and we didn't see them for a long time. Every now and then I'd see them walking down the street and just feel sad that they chose to live the gangster lifestyle and couldn't be real kids anymore.
Even though I'm still the "white Mormon girl" I feel strong (stronger than 10 years ago) and don't fear these boys. I saw a few of them the other day-- one with a shaved head, and another with lots of hair-- so I just made a joke about the one kid having all his hair, was he going to shave it, etc. Just friendly talk... enough for them to know I don't hate their guts and still treat them like normal kids.
Well today 5 of our gangsters came to the Club. It was 6pm and they all came into my office, just chillin' and being normal and nice. One kid looked pretty banged up and had a huge goose-egg on his forehead. Even though he told me he'd fallen off his scooter (yeah right, what gangster rides a little Razor scooter around)... I knew he'd just been in a fight and was probably hiding out. I insisted that he put ice on it and got a little bag of ice for him. A while later I played pool with one of the kids who's head was so perfectly shaven I just kept staring at it because I'd never seen such a flawless head. I beat him at pool. :) The others wanted to play our Xbox Kinects dance game (which was a surprise) so I turned it on for them and it was funny to see them dance-- or at least try to. We had leftovers from dinner that the Food Bank delivers, so I asked the boys if they wanted any, and they all followed me into the kitchen. I felt like a little mother hen feeding her chicks. They piled on heaping amounts of the macaroni stuff, and some asked for seconds. I watched them and thought maybe some of these kids hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. We had a good chat while we were in the kitchen. I let them know that we know what's going on... we're fully aware of the things they're doing. I reassured them they're not "bad kids" but they make bad decisions and do a lot of stupid things. They complained about people always judging or blaming them because they're "Mexican." Uhh... nope, not that... pretty sure it's the gangster image they've chosen to promote, and of course any spectator will make assumptions of 5 teens, shaved heads, all dressed in blue baggy clothes, etc. They just don't get it, and I don't think they have any intentions of changing their ways or walking away from it. But for a moment, those boys were really just boys, and weren't acting all tough and gangster-like.
I don't know what my intentions are with these boys. I don't know how far we let it go to allow them to be at the Club without them influencing the other kids in a negative way. But today was okay, and I was actually happy to see them there. My boss recently took a job at a different Club (I'll miss him!) and he specifically told me to keep my eye out for the gang stuff. It's all on my shoulders now and I'm the one who needs to be on my toes and keep an ear and eye out for what's going on. I just hope that in some, small way I can make a difference in these kids lives. Not sure how yet... but I won't give up. Not yet.
As I drove home from work I passed the 5-pack walking down the street towards me. I honked my horn and gave a little wave and a smile. And that's when I thought about my childhood... and my YMCA teens... and how far I've come. Who passes a group of "scary" gangsters and waves? I love my job. :)
I bought these Vans almost exactly a year ago. I wore them nearly every day, in any weather. I could dress casual and they were the final "cherry" on my outfits because they would tie it all together. I'm a huge fan of not wearing running shoes with a cute outfit. And let's be honest-- I'm not fashionable at all, but shoes are one thing I'm picky about. And even with shoes, I'm still not fashionable, because I don't own any "girly casual shoes"... other than nice shoes I wear with skirts or dresses. But you will never see me wearing dainty flat shoes with jeans or khakis or shorts. Blugh. I could never do that. I have nothing against any other people that wear those shoes... which is basically any other female in existence right now. I just can't do it-- my jeans would never look good. I've been debating over Toms lately but those are pointy and flat and meant for "skinny, slimming" type of pants that I certainly don't wear. Sooo... Vans are my choice for now. They're not chunky, they're not too flashy, but they still add a dash of style to a simple outfit.
I've owned probably 4-5 pairs of these old-school Adidas shoes... bless my heart. At least the Vans are a step up, right?
Anyway, my point-- I love these Vans. They were crisp and new last spring/summer and I loved wearing them with the low socks that made it look like you weren't wearing socks at all. They were fun and not even very comfortable... but at the same time, my feet loved wearing them. Over time, they developed their own faded creases and stains and the rubber around the edges pulled away from the canvas. I even noticed a little hole forming on top of my right shoe, where my big toe was probably poking from inside. They had character, and even though they started looking a little ratty, I still wore them all the time.
Today was my last day wearing those shoes. It's a great story.
One of my teens came to the Club today looking a little somber and mentioned it had been a rough day. She woke up late, didn't have time to shower or do her hair, couldn't find clothes so she grabbed her mom's shirt to wear to school, and her shoes were falling apart. I looked down and both of her shoes (probably generic Ked's that have no cushion or support whatsoever) had pulled completely away from the sole. So she could lift up her toes and the bottom of her shoe would stay flat, and the rest of the canvas part would pull up, with holes underneath. She told me she couldn't get more shoes for another month. I was like, "C'mon! Haven't you worn other shoes here before?" (Thinking really hard if I had ever noticed her wearing other shoes)... and she said those were the only shoes she had. Size 8. I wear 9 or 9 1/2. Hmm. I told her that was a bummer and I wished I could just find some shoes for her.
I got distracted doing other things and ended up in my office again with this girl. I glanced at my shoes (Vans, of course) and thought, "I wish I could just give these to her." Then the light bulb flashed and I remembered I had a pair of running shoes in my car. So I held out my foot and said, "Hey, do you like these? Want to try one on?" She was surprised and said, "Those are Vans!" Uhh... yeah? So I took off my shoe (not sure if it would even fit) but she put it right on and said, "It fits." Sweet! So I took off my other shoe and handed it over. She had dingy, saggy white ankle socks on that were all bunched up weird with the Vans, but the shoes looked great. Her face lit up and I could tell my little act of service had really taken a load of stress off her little 7th grade terrible day.
I tip-toed around in my socks for a few minutes (feeling super happy about my decision) and finally ran out to my car and grabbed my running shoes. As I was tying my shoes, this girl came over and said, "Bree... Why do you care about us?" Such a simple, yet meaningful question. I told her it's because I want them to be happy, and if there's something I can do to make their lives better, then I'll do it. She paused for a second, and said, "Oh... well... thank you!" and then she left my office. I loved that mini-conversation... an opportunity for her to know that I really do care, and it's not an act and it's not my job... it's just me loving people for who they are. (And just so you know, this girl isn't my most favorite "Club Kid" so it's not like this was anything I had ever considered doing for her before). But my heart was certainly softened. :)
I share this story not to boast or to put a gold star on my chest. I just wanted to have this story to look back on and remember. And to remember the rewarding aspects of my job and working with youth.
P.S. After work today I bought myself a new pair of shoes. Vans. Gray. Different than the previous ones. They're stiff and new. Not comfy and flexible like the others... but they'll find their place in my heart.
Bethany spoke at a recent national Boys & Girls Club conference as a motivational speaker for the teens and leaders in attendance. I thought, "Dang, I wish I could have been there!" I remembered hearing about her experience years ago-- the girl who got her arm bit off in a surfing shark attack. Pretty sure everyone has heard about it... but how did I not pay more attention to this inspiring individual? She is THE bomb. I'm totally impressed with her optimism and drive to be successful, despite her circumstances.
So I read the article and clicked on a few more links that lead me to the official website for "Soul Surfer" the movie. Yay!
After watching the movie trailer I decided I definitely wanted to see it. I really love movies based on true stories because they have so much more significance and meaning. And THIS was an amazing story.
I explored the website and read the basic facts of Bethany's experience, which speaks so much of her faith in Christ, faith in God, and her deep belief in her purpose right now-- to be a light for others. Such an amazing person! The more I read, the more I was intrigued-- the more I REALLY wanted to see this movie.
It's an interview of Bethany in regards to the making of the movie. She was totally involved with the making of the film and was on set everyday and had a lot of say in how scenes should go-- basically, she wanted it to be as realistic and accurate as possible and didn't want Hollywood to add unnecessary things. She wanted it to be a film about faith in Christ... more-so than just some surfing movie. Once I learned that Bethany was involved in the making of the movie, I REALLY wanted to see it because I believed it would really be her true story.
So I turned 31 on April 26th and what did I want to do for my Birthday? Go see "Soul Surfer", of course! So Cassity came with me and we used a movie package that I won at a luncheon a few weeks ago. Free movie. Free popcorn. Free drinks. Excellent Birthday. :) We went to the movie and I LOVED IT. I cried. I laughed. I got scared. I cried more. I just loved it.
The movie ended and Cass was like, "Well... what do you want to do now?" It was my Birthday. 9pm... still plenty of time to do something fun. Yet all I could think of was going to Barnes & Noble so I could buy Bethany's biography. Cass probably thought I was a ridiculous nerd (which I am)... but we went to the bookstore and I bought this book:
This is what my cover looks like, which is kind of lame because that's not even Bethany on the cover. So this is a picture of the book before the movie ever came out:
When I see this picture of her, I'm reminded of how YOUNG she was when the shark attack happened!
Like, seriously, she's just a kid! (She was 13, to be exact)
How many of us would be smiling after a life-changing experience like this?
They found the actual shark that attacked her, and the size of its jaws were an exact match to the bite mark on her surf board. Creeeeepy.
So, back to my book purchase, I started reading it immediately. The more I read the book, the more I loved the movie, and the more I want to see the movie again. The book was written back in 2005, just 2 years after the attack happened. then there's an addition at the end of a journal she kept during the making of the movie, and an update on her life now. It's super easy to read because it's basically a conversation with Bethany and the reader. She tells us of her roots in Hawaii, her amazing, supportive family, her surfing up-bringing, her best friends, the attack and what she can remember, her recovery in the hospital, the flood of support from people all over the world, the "fame" she never would have imagined, her decision to surf again (just 3 weeks after the attack happened), her journey back into the water and to her current status as a pro-surfer! The book is inspiring, entertaining, and educational! I learned about all kinds of things from "Surf lingo" to the history of surfing, etc. Bethany's just super chill and easy-going in the book. A natural Hawaiian surfer girl. :)
She talked about the making of the movie and how it all came together. She and her mom actually saw AnnaSophia Robb in "Bridge to Terabithia" and agreed that she would be perfect to play Bethany. (AnnaSophia is also the gum chewing girl in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" and was in "Winn Dixie").
Bethany was surprised when she first met AnnaSophia and realized how tiny she was! Bethany is 5'11" and AnnaSophia is obviously much smaller. :) AnnaSophia had never really surfed before so she had to learn everything prior to shooting the film, but how cool would it be to get surf lessons from Bethany Hamilton? Very cool. In the book, I learned that all the "stunt shots" in the movie are actually done by Bethany, which is awesome that she gets to be in it, herself. Bethany and AnnaSophia clicked right from the start and are really good friends now. They both share the same Christian beliefs and Bethany mentioned in her book how great it was to have that common ground.
You might be wondering, "How do they make AnnaSophia's arm look like Bethany's in the movie?"
Ta-Daaaaaa
It's like a magic green sleeve! I don't know how crazy technology works, but somehow they can just digitally remove her arm in the scenes. Then they added the little stumpy part up near the armpit and Bethany said it looks exactly like her arm. Well done, special effects team.
Other reasons why I love this movie: The cast! Bethany's parents are played by Dennis Quaid and Helen Hunt, and I love both of them. Helen Hunt actually already knew how to surf and did some of her own stunts in the movie-- awesome! Dennis had never surfed but he loves it now and goes often. :) And Bethany's best friend, "Alana", is played by Lorraine Nicholson, daughter of Jack Nicholson. And of course, who doesn't love Carrie Underwood, regardless of what she's doing? She is beautiful, inside and out. Before her big American Idol debut, she was a Christian music singer, so her role as Bethany's church youth leader is perfect.
I went on a road trip with friends this weekend, 8 hour drive one way, and I read my "Soul Surfer" book for most of the drive there. My friends caught on really quick that I was fascinated with this whole thing like a 5 year old boy and Star Wars. I kept talking about the book or the movie and would bring Bethany into our conversations like she's been my best friend since 8th grade. I'm kind of ridiculous. In her book, Bethany even said how weird it is to be a celebrity. She said something like, "People see me on TV and immediately feel connected to me and think we're friends. I can't go anywhere with my friends without being stopped for an autograph or a photo." I thought, "Shoot... I'm one of those weirdo fan people now." But it's true. I totally admire this girl and feel inspired to be a better person-- a stronger person in my faith and the way I live my life.
Here's the funny thing about my obsession with "Soul Surfer":
1) I almost drowned in the waves at a beach when I was 9 and was rescued by my dad in his long-sleeved button up shirt and jeans. I was terrified of the ocean for a long time and would even get nervous at the sound of rumbling water in my ears when I took a shower.
2) I have a fear of deep, dark water when I can't see the bottom. ie: ocean, lake, dark pools, etc. (But I love swimming, canoeing in lakes, wave runners/jet skis, boogie-boarding, etc. I just can't let myself think about it too much). I also tried surfing once on a BYU trip to San Diego-- it's really hard and I maybe got up for like 3 seconds.
So take Bethany Hamilton's experience: Surfing in deep, dark waters in a secluded surf spot on the tip of the shore in Hawaii... a shark comes out of nowhere and bites her arm off in 2 seconds... yeah. That confirms all of my fears and then some! I'm surprised I can even think about it or talk about it or want to watch the movie again. But just as she told the movie director-- she didn't want the movie to be about surfing-- she wanted the movie to be about faith in God's plan. And that is powerful.
So I've seen the movie. I've read the book. I've looked at pictures. I've watched videos and interviews. I'm a fan. I'm a groupie. I'm a follower, if you will. And I want to be different. I want to be changed by what I have been thinking over the past week or so.
Bethany's goal in life is to share God's love in all that she does. Sure, she's a pro surfer and travels the world and does interviews and is a motivational speaker and what not. It's not about the surfing. It's not even about the shark attack. It's all about sharing the message of faith and making sure people know that God loves them and has a plan for them. How familiar is this to so many of us? Yet how often do we really make that a part of our conversation or even our thoughts? I had a lot of time to think over the weekend and thought about how I can be stronger-- how I can be more true to what I know and believe. Bethany often referred to different verses in the Bible that have helped and inspired her along the way. Jeremiah 29:11. Proverbs 3:5-6. She has a firm testimony of prayer and knows God is aware of us. She knows we go through trials-- even if we don't know why-- to become stronger and to learn what God wants us to learn. And if Bethany has ever asked herself, "Why Me?"... it wasn't because she was angry or upset. It was "Why has God chosen me to be His instrument... why has He chosen me to share His message?" But she firmly believes that is her purpose-- to share her story of hope and love. And she does it without any fear or hesitation.
The way Bethany puts is... she is "tight with God" and that is what's most important to her. I love that.
I love Bethany's story because it's real. But we all have our own stories. Shoot, I have my own story that I just submitted for a little Ensign magazine thing (though I haven't heard back from the lady so I doubt she'll publish it). But we've all gone through our dark days, only to look back on them years later with a better understanding of why we experienced certain challenges. I know God has a plan for us, and I know He loves us. And it's all about His timing-- that's what I've come to learn the most. He is in charge... and we live our lives according to faith and our actions. And Life Is Good.
So yeah, anyway. Go see "Soul Surfer" if you haven't. Or better yet, read the book. And then you'll understand. :)
My mom said something the other day that really stuck with me. I've heard the term before but this time it really made sense. All or Nothing. I was telling my mom about my eating habits and how I'd just finished off a bag of mini donuts (personal weakness) and how I'd been sick for 2 weeks and the last thing I was worried about was eating healthy. So bring on the cookies, frozen yogurt, cake, and brownies! I'm sick and I'll eat whatever I want! Of course, in this same conversation, I was complaining about my lack of running these days and how I need to get back on track. I'm really a messed up, confused little person. But that's when my mom said it: "You seem to be anAll or Nothing person." Either I'm totally motivated and doing awesome with healthy goals... or I make one little mistake or eat one little treat and then I'm bulldozing piles of junk into my body. She didn't use those exact words to describe it, but those are my own. And they're true. :) WHY are they so true... and HOW do I allow them to be true?!
I can go a whole day at work and be super disciplined and motivated to be healthy. Maybe I went running that morning and had a healthy breakfast. Then I carefully planned out my day of snacks and healthy lunch and dinner. Then I get home from work around 8pm and BOOOOOM!!! I'm so hungry I lose all sense of control and eat everything that looks or sounds good to me. And by midnight I'm thinking, "Crap, why did I do that... what a waste of a good day!" And the cycle continues day after day, until finally I just wake up one day and think-- what's the point?-- and eat crap all day long just because. And it's like a sense of rebelling against myself. Oh yeah? You don't think you'll eat that donut right there? Watch me. And mmmmm... it tastes SO good. I might even eat another one. And don't even ask me about trips to Red Mango, or the BYU mint brownies I attacked today.
And all this time, have I been running? Hardly. In the last 3 weeks I've gone running 3 times. Probably a total of 11 miles, and that is a terrible confession. Last year at this time (my Birthday) I asked for all running things-- bandannas, running socks, running shirts, etc. I was totally on fire! I was motivated and excited. And I really WAS a runner. Now when the topic of running comes up, I feel like a hypocrite, or like I'm faking it, or don't deserve to call myself a runner. I know that's silly-- I can be a runner if I want to, even if I'm not running consistently. I still like it! I still WANT to do it. I'm just terrible at staying motivated this year. I really DO seem to be All or Nothing.
But I'm ready for all of that to change. Call it turning over a new leaf.
I've been inspired by people who probably have no idea they've inspired me!
Case #1-- A friend who originally motivated me a year ago after I'd heard about her weight loss and her motivation to walk/run and stay on track with her goals. It was awesome, and that's when I decided last year to make my own goals and be able to accomplish great things in 2010. I did. And I felt awesome. This same friend kind of fell into her own slump but then somehow I became an inspiration for her and she's back in the game now. She decided to join my Red Rock Relay team for St. George (in September) and she has been training and doing things at her own pace. She started as a "non-runner" and now can totally celebrate her ability to run 1.5-2 miles without stopping, and I love her enthusiasm! It's inspiring. And she makes me want to be better.
Case #2-- Just tonight, my aunt reminded me of last summer when I'd told her about the "Couch to 5K" running program. She said she hadn't actually used it, but she'd started running in the last few months. She's also joined weight watchers and does her workouts with her husband, which she loves. She's lost 25 lbs and has worked up the ability to run 1.5 miles. Her goal is to run a 5K in May. I know she can do it!
I LOVE these stories!! And I love that people feel the need to tell me, since I might have been their original seed of inspiration. And look at me now! A big pile of laziness. But the good thing is now THESE people are the ones motivating me.
What I realized tonight is that running is so great because it really is one big individual competition. Sure, you can enter a race and run along side hundreds of other people to try to get first place. But more commonly, and more importantly, you're really just racing against yourself and proving yourself wrong. You prove to yourself that you can actually get up the next morning and run when you really didn't feel like it. Or you ran 2 more minutes than you thought you could... or ran one more lap when you thought you'd die... or ran for the duration of the rest of that song just because you liked it so much. Running is a personal victory when you come out on top. That's why these ladies can feel sooo excited after running 1 mile, and who cares about the neighbor who ran 22 miles that morning. It doesn't matter. We're all in our own running world and it doesn't do us any good to compare us to other people. This is what I'm telling myself, anyway. :)
So I really have no good excuse to NOT be a runner right now. The leaf has turned over. I'm ready to run. I am determined to wake up tomorrow morning and be EXCITED to run! (And by "running" we all know that really means jogging, but it's cooler to say running).
Anyway, I'm going to do a better job of being honest via blog communications and keep me focused and motivated. It's 11:15pm and I just brushed my teeth to prevent me from eating any more junk food. Take that, taste buds.
I'm not saying I'm like the coolest person out there... but don't you think boys would see a girl like this and think, "Wow, she looks fun!"... and want to get to know me better? I don't even care about the "Wow she's hot" comment because boys don't say that about me. I'm usually more on the "cute" side which is fine... but I'm not the kind of girl that turns heads as I walk by. I just don't. :) But what about my sparkling personality and fun-loving nature and enthusiastic energy for life?! I look at this picture and think, "Hey, I'm totally happy right there." And for some reason it just shows. And I want a boy to know that side of me-- the adventurous, happy, playful, sensitive, nerdy side. But not many do.
I was sitting next to a boy at church today in Sunday School. I know he's 30 and I think he's cute. In my head I thought, "I wonder why this guy never acknowledges my presence." He was using a fancy iPad to read scriptures so I made a comment about it and our quick convo lasted 3 seconds. And that was it. A big, booming realization:
Boys don't talk to me at church. Boys don't flirt with me at church. Boys don't go out of their way to know me. AND LET ME MAKE THIS DISCLAIMER: This is not at all a pity-party-woa-is-me kind of blog post. It's a matter-of-fact epiphany that became very clear today. So i'm writing about it. :)
Reasons why a boy might not talk to me at church:
I'm too old.
They don't like the short hair.
I'm the Relief Society President.
I'm "intimidating."
I'm too busy.
I don't dress trendy.
I'm just plain not attractive.
My personality is lame.
Well, I could go on and on, but that would be ridiculous, because I could give boys every excuse in the book as to why they're lame, but that just diminishes the light of who I really am! What, you don't like short hair? Too bad. What, you think just because of my calling I'm a goody goody and won't accept you and your faults? Guess what-- this girl is NOT perfect. What, you think I'm too old? Seriously, have you ever hung out with me before? I'm like 12. So really-- it's their loss, for making quick judgments and decisions and missing out on this one.
Maybe part of the reason I was thinking about all of this at church today is because I have ONE more week left in a singles ward. Ever. And I was wondering if I would miss it. Let me tell you what I'll miss: All the wonderful people who make me feel like I'm something special. A friend who leans over and tells me she loves my tiny fingers (haha), and then compliments my freckles. I love the wives of the bishopric who supported me in my calling and reassured me and told me I was doing a great job. I love the men (grown-up men) in the bishopric who were kind and honorable and so fun to work with. I love the number of girls who come up to give me a hug, just because. Or the girls who tell me I'm amazing and I've set a good example for them. I love the moments of making eye contact with random people across the room and smiling or making faces in the middle of a lesson. I love the people who put an arm around my shoulder and thank me for sharing my testimony. Yes-- these are the people I love. And these are the people that help me love myself.
So to all the boys out there... good luck with your lady hunt. And to the girls out there... you're the best.
And to myself... Keep doing your thing, girlfriend.
You would think that a weekend of doing absolutely nothing and then 3 more days home from work would be super relaxing and actually kind of exciting. Wrong! I'm losing my mind. My head is pounding and that makes me want to do absolutely nothing. Reading, watching TV, watching movies, computer stuff (minus this blog moment) and everything else just makes my head hurt. I even took a short shopping trip last night and that sent me into unstoppable shivers and cold sweats that lasted for 4 hours when I got home. Bad idea.
So here's a list of what I've been doing in the last many days... just to give you a peek into my boring life:
THURSDAY
Had a killer sore throat. Left work early to go to the doctor. Tested negative for Strep. Aarrrrgh. Was told to use throat drops and Ibuprofen-- THANKS doc. Watched "Fair Game" from Redbox-- If you're into government stuff you'll like it. Cass picked it out-- haha.
FRIDAY
Went to a work conference and came home around 4pm. Couldn't really talk, couldn't really swallow, and throat was ON FIRE. Home Teachers came over to give me a blessing-- grateful I actually have home teachers that exist right now. Watched the "Ramona & Beezus" movie from Redbox-- loved it. I don't even remember the rest of that night. I was caved up in my bedroom.
SATURDAY
It snowed that morning. I stayed in my bed most of the day. Coughed like crazy and couldn't swallow. Attempted a few cayenne pepper gargles (don't remind me--Eeckkkk). Watched "Unstoppable" from Redbox-- really liked it.
SUNDAY
Told Cassity I wasn't going to church. I only have 3 more weeks in the Singles Ward... I felt bad... so I got ready and went with her. Coughed the whole time-- felt miserable. Slept a lot at home. Watched the "Waiting for Superman" educational documentary. Ate scrambled eggs and cream of wheat, which was a huge accomplishment. Was pretty much not talking at all by that point-- throat hurt too bad. Cass was bored. :) Watched "Chronicles of Narnia"... had a fever that night and was really sweaty.
MONDAY
Woke up and felt like crap. Told my boss I wouldn't make it to work. Slept longer. Coughed a lot. Felt nauseous. Went to the doctor-- tested negative for Strep again. Found out I had something similar to bronchitis and walking pneumonia so I got a prescription for an antibiotic. Felt somewhat better afterwards and could swallow... SUPER hungry. Went to Arby's on the way home and scarfed down my food. Got 2 more Redbox movies: "Dinner for Schmucks" (wouldn't watch it again) and "Knight & Day" (entertaining but lasted forever). After watching those movies I had the worst headache and didn't want to even look at another Redbox. Nauseous. Pounding headache. Coughing. But at least I could swallow. Watched "He's Just Not That Into You." Terrible night's sleep.
TUESDAY
No work again. Fever. Coughing. Headaches. Nausea. OH-- AND I STARTED MY PERIOD. Seriously?! Was it possible to add ANY more discomfort than I already had piled on me?!?!? Yep, apparently I had room for a little more pain. Restless and bored and refused to turn on the TV because the noise made my headache worse. I did the dishes; cleaned the kitchen; cleaned the bathroom; organized and cleaned my room; did my laundry; opened the windows to air out the apt; took out the garbage; organized all our DVD's according to "chick flick, drama, action, comedy, church, or kid movie". Finally decided to go to Target to buy more organizing things for my room-- they didn't have what I needed. Continued on to JC Penny to accompany Cassity on her shopping spree. I was also looking for a new shirt for my interview the next day. Tried on lots of clothes. Found a shirt. Cass found lots of clothes. On the way home I suddenly got really sick... sicker, I should say. Cold body chills and couldn't stop shivering-- thought I was going to throw up. Immediately got in my bed, with heated mattress cover, all blankets on, hoodie with hood over my head, heated blanket on top of all the blankets, and still shivered non-stop for over an hour.
***Luckily I had read an e-mail from my dad that suggested I get a Priesthood blessing before my interview, to clear my mind and give me physical strength. Good idea Dad! I asked my brother, who I adore, and he said he'd come right over. Waiting for him seemed to last forever. I felt sooo sick, wanted to throw-up, and couldn't stop shivering. Cass brought me hot apple cider and I had a few sips but it didn't help the nausea. Finally Nathan came and I was curled up in the fetal position facing the wall, under all the blankets. I never moved or turned over while he was in my room-- mainly because I felt so miserable and couldn't handle moving. But he was a gem and so sweet. He talked for a while and shared a few MTC type stories to set the tone for the spirit. He made a few jokes here and there and was his cute little self-- it's too bad I couldn't reciprocate the nice feelings. He made a little pathway to my bed (among my barf bowl, bag to cough mucus into, kleenex, humidifier, water bottle, etc.) and gave me a beautiful blessing. Wow has this boy grown in the gospel! I felt the power of his priesthood and really tried hard to concentrate on the message Heavenly Father wanted me to hear. It was wonderful and a lot of his phrases stuck with me. I thanked him, gave him a weak, limp handshake, and he left.***
I shivered for 2 more hours and tried to even force myself to throw up by dry heaving and trying to trick my body into the motion of it. Nope. Nothing. Back to bed. I dozed off and woke up around mid-night, still nauseous but not as bad. I finally kept having thoughts to turn over onto my stomach (I'd like to think those were little spiritual promptings) and finally I obeyed. I never sleep on my stomach, but laying in that position made me feel so much better. Even still, it took me about 2 more hours to fall asleep, after getting up a few more times to go to the bathroom. WORST-NIGHT-EVER!
WEDNESDAY
I woke up around 8:15am and miraculously felt a whole lot better. Still queasy, but not on my death bed. I was able to get ready and actually make it on time to my interview on time (45 minutes away). Did my best in the interview (although I wish I could change all of my answers now) and they knew I wasn't feeling good. My boss asked if I was going home. I told him I was planning on trying to go to work today. He said I should take another day at home so I could be strong and good tomorrow. Hmm.. okay. So I went home.
ANOTHER day at home. BORING. Headaches galore. Coughing.
P.S. The side effects of the antibiotic are: upset stomach, diarrhea, abdominal pain. COOL. Thanks doc.
I went to Wal-Mart on my way home from the interview and got the organizing things I wanted for my room. Also picked up a Jamba Juice Cold Buster and got one for Cassity too. Took Sadie for a walk. Risked a $30 fine and let her play in the fenced in playground area because it was such a nice day. Layed on the couch the rest of the day. Watched "Miss Congeniality" 1 & 2... and the end of American Idol-- not really impressed.
Now here I sit. It's been nearly a week of feeling miserable and I'm dreading another night of wishing I could sleep but not being able to. And I'm sooo tired. And my head hurts. And I HAVE to go to work tomorrow and actually be interactive and productive.
I guess one good thing is it's SUPER windy outside right now and I kind of like it.
