Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Time to Shine

Today was the second day of Falcon Idol practice. I was on the edge of my seat for when they would call me to sing, and when they did, there I went.
Yesterday was not very good. I was nervous so I was having trouble hitting the low notes and shaking the entire time.
Today I stood up taller. These people had already heard me sing. No more worrying about what they think. It was time to fall into the song and control the energy in the room. It was time to start shining. I sang my song, concentrating on my performance. It felt so good. The spotlights, the music, the glory.
When the song was over I was conscience of myself again. Wows from my small audience radiated from the seats. I realized where I was, standing there, the middle of attention. I shyly slinked off the stage, a blushing smile on my face.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Friday, September 23, 2011


"You're up next."
HERE IT IS. I start shaking like a leaf in a breeze.
"Come on in," They say to me, a little too cheerfully. I walk timidly down the auditorium and up on stage. There goes my music. I sing. I shake.  My voice quivers. I eye the judges shyly, wondering what they're thinking.
"Nevermind, I'll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you. . ." The song flows out of my mouth. My voice sounds strange. I look again to the judges as I sing, but they show no emotion. No disappointment, no approval, nothing. It kills me.

Others told me you only sing the first part of your song, so after the first chorus I stop, still staring at the judges, still begging for emotion. The music stops. I speed walk off the stage, frustrated and ashamed of my performance. I leave the auditorium without stopping.

Outside many people greet me and congratulate me. I have nothing to say. I leave the school in silence and call my mom to take me home.

Thursday, September 15, 2011


I can only imagine how far a river has gone.
Under bridges, past the trees,
It is constantly flowing.

It hits a few fallen logs,
Big rocks, turns in the path.
The rolling waters continue on.

The time comes it hits the rapids,
Tossing and turning, it is beaten,
Grasping everything in sight.

But it keeps on flowing,
Under bridges, past the trees.
Never stopping through every rough.

Then when the disruption is ceased,
It finds that quiet place,
Slow, shadowed by a willow tree.

Sometimes we want to stay in bed,
Not moving, afraid of the grief before us.
All we want is to give up and forget.

But maybe we should be like rivers,
Never hesitant, never stopping.
Just pushing through.

Under bridges, past the trees.
Fallen logs and giant rocks,
Cross the rapids, down the falls.

We keep on flowing.

And only then will we find the quiet place,
Slow, shadowed by the willow tree.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

10:00 Phone Call

10:00. I lay in bed, just barely dozing off, when my phone rang. "Hi.." I said quietly, wondering what was up.
"Tessa," my friend started, "I'm mad at you." After asking why she told me the story. (I wrote a blog post about Labor Day, and Ally's mom saw it and Sam isn't allowed at Ally's house anymore.)
"I decided you've been a jerk. I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's true," Sam said matter-of-factly. Every sentence lasted an eternity. All I heard was her voice, the voice I've heard since Kindergarten, telling me what a horrible person I am. I felt like I should say something, but at first no words came out. The room felt cold and I began to shiver.

"Uhh... I don't know what to say," I stammered, "I don't feel good, I'm going to bed." I hung up quickly and lay my head on my pillow. I waited for the tears, but none came. I just layed there. Emotionless. Ally texted telling me the story except she wasn't mad at me, just shocked and sad, as I was. While I talked to her I began to bawl. Sobs shook my body. The room in the background was silent, but there was screaming in my ears from the phone call before, "You've been a real jerk." 
I let it flow out to Ally, explaining how I've felt all along and how heartbroken I felt now.

After a while of talking we both went to bed, but it was a while before I could sleep. Today I read this post on Sam's blog.
"I hate it when people say things... All I can feel right now it hatred... I know I shouldn't, but why do some people have to be so fricken stupid? I want to scream out, yell at them, tell them that they are stupid and that I never want to see them again. I want them to understand my anger. I want to lash out and be the demon I know I can be. I want them to realize how much they complicate things. I want them to go away and never make trouble again. ...The face that once was everything to me, and now it is close to nothing."

I knew it was about me. There was the ringing in my ears again. Why do you have to be so fricken stupid? I never want to see you again. You mean nothing to me anymore.
I wanted to plug my ears, close my eyes, and make it go away.

I haven't felt so lost and heartbroken and afraid since you-know-who. I don't understand, and I don't think I ever will.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Growing Up

 Life was simple. My favorite part of my outfit was the matching socks and hairband. We made traps to catch leprechauns and played Truth or Dare around the swamp. We planted a moss garden behind the kickball fence. I drew comics, wrote stories, and told everyone about my crazy dreams. That was my life.
(Oh, and just to warn you... if you aren't interested in seeing a bunch of pictures, you might want to stop looking at this post about now.)


Gahhh. :P

I was a child. Not afraid to get dirty, afraid of the dark, and asked a lot of "why" questions.
Years passed and I started seventh grade. I started to change. I didn't like getting dirty or playing dodge ball. I was embarrassed to even make eye contact with the boys at school. I couldn't play pretend games anymore. I was already physically mature, but I realized my mind was changing. After much trial and the biggest heartbreak of my life at the beginning of my eighth grade year, I started to really grow up. While my thoughts used to occupy far away lands and fantasies, they now take place in the moment, my future, and my feelings.

It's still hard to believe. I feel like I took my entire childhood for granted. I've had a lot of flashbacks lately. Looks at the past and things I used to do or think.
Then I think a few of my close friends. They still go adventuring and make me feel I'm the most boring person alive. Am I just boring, or have they not completely grown up yet?

(Hey, if a picture's worth a thousand words than there's 8,000 words worth of pictures in here.)

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Attack of the Foot

Saturday morning. I woke up and wobbled up the stairs and straight for the bathroom. But when I opened the door what I found was this.

It was Janell's foot. I had a mini heart attack. Wondering whether she was sleeping in the corner of the bathroom, digging through the cupboard, or dead, I wandered further into the bathroom to find this.

Wow, Janell. You must have been in a big hurry to get your pants off.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Ring Ring

Okay... Here's another rant post. Enjoy.

Today I forgot to turn my phone on silent before I left for school and it rang in math class. Awkwardest moment of my life. Luckily I didn't get in any trouble.
My phone number is in the ward list because it used to be the house phone. EVERY SINGLE DAY I get calls from ward people wanting to talk to the Relief Society Present (i.e. my mother). I'll tell you right now, if you want to talk to Mom, it's a lost cause to call my cell phone. I won't call you back if I don't recognize the number and/or if you don't leave a message, and I always forget to deliver messages to my mom. I won't hand the phone to her, sorry. So you might as well save yourself some trouble and just start by calling my mom's cell.

Tell your friends. Thank you for your time.

Musical Blogs

(This post is not to be offensive in any way.)

I have a rant. A musical rant. I, like most people, like to listen to my favorite songs while I'm on the computer. But I guarantee you that you and I have different favorite songs, which is totally great. I stalk a lot of blogs, and the worst thing ever is when you open them and 752652983658 different songs start playing over the song I already had going. AHHH. I think it's great and interesting to know your favorite songs, but I don't want to listen to them while I'm trying to read. Put the settings so it's on pause and someone can choose to play it if they actually want that kind of music in the background. I'd love to pick my own music.

Thank you for your time.

Monday, September 5, 2011

An Eventful Labor Day

My friend Sam just turned 15. So in honor of her birthday, on our day off of school, Ally and Sam and I decided to go ice skating.
We showed up at the rink at about 10:45 and were told we had to wait 45 minutes for the private sessions to end and the zamboni to smooth the ice. We watched the private skaters and the BYU hockey team for a while before we headed downstairs where we bought a soda for $1.25.

45 minutes passed and the man at the counter let us know we could now go skate. He told us the admission fee plus the price of renting skates, we counted our money... and we were a dollar short. We mumbled to ourselves about the fact our Sprite cost us a day ice skating and went over to get our shoes. 
Neither Sam nor Ally's parents wanted to pick us up, so we found ourselves stranded at Seven Peaks with only 18 dollars.
"Let's just go ride the bus home," Sam suggested.
Ally planted her feet in the ground, refusing to leave.
"We're going now Ally... bye!" Sam and I said. She soon followed us out the doors realizing she really had no choice. 

A few blocks down we found the bus stop. The sign said it ran every day except Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. The sign also said the bus was supposed to have come 2 minutes before the time we arrived at the stop.
"I didn't see a bus go by," Sam pointed out. We called the number on the sign and an automated voice told us the buses and trax weren't running today. Thoroughly frustrated, we sat down in the grass, calling our parents. No one picked up. I called my mom's phone and my dad's and my sister's... no answer. 
...Now what?
We sat in the grass, feeling rather hopeless.
A woman drove by and thought we were waiting for the bus. She pulled over. "Sorry... the buses aren't going today. My son already tried to get a bus ride."
"Yeah, we know, we called the number on the sign. No one at home is picking up their phones."
"Do you guys need a ride?"
There was silence. Ally and I looked at each other, shaking our heads. All our lives they taught us NOT to do this very thing. Sam looked us right in the eyes. She looked serious. "I have a feeling it's going to be okay."
We didn't tell the woman our names or ages and just told her to drop us off at Macey's grocery store in Orem. 
"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done," I told Sam, matter-of-factly. 
The whole ride the woman was very nice and just talked about how she was cleaning her house this morning in honor of the holiday.
She pulled up to the Macey's curb and we thanked her profusely for the ride while I also thanked Heavenly Father over and over in my heart that we got there safe.

We got in the store, bought bagels, ate bagels, and talked about how weird our day had been. Soon we were walking back to Ally's. After we watched a movie I walked home. As my family always says: "It's been real, and it's been fun, but it hasn't been real fun."

The instant I got home people asked me how my day was. I told them the story except said Sam's mom brought us home. It nagged at me. I sat at the computer listening to music as my mom sewed behind me. I have to tell her. My eyes teared up at the very thought of what might happen. I could be grounded for the rest of my eternity. But rescuing my soul from a cruel fate still wasn't worth lying to my mother.
"Mom..." my voice was trembling.
"What?" her eyes didn't move from her sewing.
"Well, when we were at the bus stop, Sam's mom didn't pick us up..." I then proceeded to tell her the whole story, on the verge of sobbing.
"I'm glad you told me," she said, "but I wish you had told me from the start." I couldn't have been more relieved. But she said if she has found it out later by anyone else, she would have probably thrown me in a guillotine and sold my head to traveling gypsies. I would've deserved that.

Today was a messed up day. But I hope you've all learned a valuable lesson. Don't lie, don't talk to strangers, carry your phone with you at all times, bring more than enough money, and the cherry bagels at Macey's are delicious.

Saturday, September 3, 2011


The sun was a giant weight on my shoulders. One hundred degrees. It beat down on me furiously as I ran around the huge track. Sweat squeezed its way out of every pour on my body, the entire top collar of my smelly P.E. shirt drenched in the moisture. I rounded yet another corner, my feet pounding desperately on the ground with every step. My calves felt like they were to burst out of my skin and spill all over the track. My lungs felt contracted, not giving me nearly enough air. The air looked wavy and fuzzy. I'm going to faint, I thought. Just a few minutes longer. 

I passed the soccer goals, then the Seminary building, then the tennis courts. Once I finished the big track I had to keep going on the little track. Passed the lamp post. Now I was on the gravel. My bottoms of my feet throbbed. My throat gave off faint coughs, weak from straining to breathe. Deep breaths. The world kept spinning around me, around and around. Children at recess at the elementary yelled and laughed in the background. I had to make it in twelve minutes to get an A. I've always made it at exactly that. I stumbled and slowed for a moment, staring ahead at the wavy image of my P.E. teacher at the end of the track. Just a straight line from here. Come on. I took off, one last burst to the finish.

I passed the line, my head throbbing and pounding to the beat of my heart. I could feel my blood pumping all throughout my body, every vain swollen, pushing the blood past like a hot potato. "13:10" my time was called out. Not 13... I needed 12... my thoughts seemed to sway and block off. Defeat. The skin on my face drooped.   I dragged myself inside and sat slowly on the ground. "You don't look so good," my friend said to me. I could hardly hear her. "I'm exhausted," was all that came out.

Cats With Crooked Jaws

You all know about Stats. Well there's a section that says things people have Googled and found your blog. My blog has been found when the following were searched. Enjoy these.
  • smokin hot grannies
  • boy wrestling goat
  • crazy stuff on a rollar coaster
  • cats with crooked jaws
  • dear future me letter
  • justin bieber 2011 binder size pictures
What the heck?? Last time I checked I've never wrestled a goat....