Battle Scar

Well I woke up this morning to find this...

A huge slash from my nose down to my right cheekbone. I have no idea where it came from, why I have it, or when in the night it happened to appear on my face. At breakfast my dad asked me about it and later in the day four different people did the same. I explained to them that I merely went to sleep one night, and the next morning there was a cut on my face. They nicknamed it my battle scar.  ...I hope I win the battle, whatever it is.

Christmas with the Fam

Christmas.

Opening your presents...

...and taking stalker pictures of your family members.

There's my brother-in-law, Paul, probably playing a game, but I don't remember exactly what he was doing.)

Typical Janell.

My big brother, Steve. (This picture was revenge for the stalker pictures he took of me.)

I've always been a daddy's girl.

My niece Andrea. She's two weeks old and super cute.

We had a good day. We played games, ate food, and we had my whole family of nine all together to celebrate the holiday. I love my family!

Kodak Moment

My camera was no where to be found. Not anywhere. I looked in the couch cushions, all of my purses, the pockets of all of my jeans, my sweatshirts... I tore my entire house apart looking for that bright purple camera. It was absolutely nowhere.

The last time I could remember using it was exactly one year from the day I recieved it-- my birthday. Which was on Sunday and celebrated at home, so I couldn't have left it anywhere other than the house. The whole situation was mind-boggling. Every day I searched some more for my precious camera, but I never found it.

Christmas morning arrived, twenty days after the dissappearance of my camera. I opened my first present. It was a memory card, and a really fancy one at that. My heart ached. I had nothing to contain my new memory card. I continued to open my presents and the last one made my eyes dry out and my hands tremble.

It was a brand new green Kodak digital camera.

It was absolutely gorgeous. Minutes later Janell asked me where her camera was. I had used it when we went to the David Archuleta concert. I was positive I had brought it home in my purse... which I couldn't find. I was back on the search.

"Mom, Tessa lost my camera!" my 23-year-old sister reported to my mother. I looked for my purse like a crazy person. I entered my room to find it on my bed, definately not where it was before. I was confused, but looked inside anyway. There was no camera. I became frantic, I couldn't believe I had lost both mine and my sister's camera!

I dug around everything in sight. Even the bag of props I used for English class. And inside that plastic sack I felt a familiar smooth surface. Out came a bright purple camera. I was happy to see it safe and sound, but I felt so bad. Mom and Dad had bought me a whole new camera, and I had lost Janell's. Now I had two cameras and Janell had lost all of her pictures.

I quietly opened Janell's bedroom door. "Uhh..." I began, but couldn't find the right words to say. I held out my arm, the purple camera dangling from one of my fingers, "I found this... but I looked everywhere for yours."

Janell glanced up at me from her slumped over position on her bed, "I already found it, I raided your purse," she informed me with a chuckle.

I went upstairs to show my mother what I had found. She was surprised but laughed at the thought that I found it the day I got a new one. We decided to compare the two so I wouldn't feel so bad about it. We took identical pictures at the exact same time. The new camera took a faster and better picture with crisp color. I felt better about it and went downstairs.

Now I've got my two cameras, purple and green.

David Archuleta Christmas Concert

I woke up from my slumped over position against the window of the trax car. "We're here," Janell poked my shoulder. Suffering from only four to five hours of sleep the night before, I fell asleep almost every time I held still. But the instant I looked out the window onto the chilly streets of Salt Lake City, I was wide awake. We got off the train and decided to find a place to eat before we headed to the concert.

My sister Kayla's in-laws are in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, therefore giving them eight reserved tickets to their Christmas concert with David Archuleta. I had been looking forward to this concert for months, even though I wasn't fully sure if I would get to go. Kayla and her husband were given three tickets, but because of their newborn baby to arrange things at home for, gave them to us. Mom and Dad were at a meeting, so that left exactly three of us-- Braden, Janell, and me.

We wandered up and down the streets. Janell and Braden are both directionally challenged but insisted upon finding a restaurant on the street we were already on. But when I got to the point I felt like my nose was getting frostbite, I convinced them to allow me to lead them to the Gateway Mall. They followed me and we found a food court around the corner.

When we emerged from behind a building to go to a trax stop, we found the platform so overflown with people, the back of the mob began across the street. We ended up taking the second train that came. I sat in a chair and Braden and Janell stood up in front of me holding on to the bars attached to the ceiling. I kept myself awake until we got to the conference center.

We walked through temple square to see long, thick lines that slithered around trees and stairs to get in the doors. Once we found the correct line, it took us more than half an hour to get in the building. When we did, my purse was dug through by a man in rubber gloves and we all had to walk under a detector.

Fifteen more minutes past and we were in our seats. Right smack dab in the middle. It was perfect. But we still had an hour until the concert started, so during that time I napped on Braden's shoulder, messed around with my iPod, and listened to the complaining of the little girl next to me who smelled strongly of body odor.

Then the lights flickered, dimmed, and an announcer with a deep chocolaty voice walked out on stage. He introduced the choir, orchestra, and finally he dramatically introduced David Archuleta. The crowd erupted in loud applause. He smiled and said he was so happy to be home in Utah.

The music was AMAZING. The orchestra made no mistakes, and the choir was absolutely phenomenal. Seeing the MoTab choir on TV doesn't do them justice, they are perfect in every way. They have great posture, amazing vowels, flawless diction, and are ridiculously united. (I know, I'm such a choir geek.) But seriously, it was amazing! And David Archuleta's heavenly tones lit up the dark room with an indescribable light. I had never been to a live concert before, but at that moment I decided I really liked them. At the end of the concert some boring dude read a really long poem and I fell asleep on Braden. But every time David Archuleta would start singing again, I shot up from Braden's shoulder.

On the trax ride back to the parking lot I hogged up two seats to sleep. I slept on my side, practically bent in half with my feet flat on the floor. We got home around 11:30 and I went straight to bed. What a day.

Fighter

He was out of my life. Now ignored by me, shunned, forgotten... So you can imagine my horror when we got the new seating chart.

And I was seated next to him. The over-opinionated social ladder climbing mophead.

At any other point in my life I would have been delighted, but now, I was disgusted. My former crush whispered not-so-quietly amoungst his friends. "Of all people, it had to be her!" I rolled my eyes and as soon as I could leave my seat I did, and he did the same.

I like to match situations with songs, and a thousand songs flashed through my mind. But the best one was Fighter by Christina Aguilara...
"Never saw it coming, all of your backstabbing. Just so you could cash in on a good thing before I'd realized your game. I heard you're going 'round playin' the victim now. But don't even begin feelin' I'm the one to blame 'cause you dug your own grave. After all of the fights and the lies, guess you're wanting to hurt me, but that won't work anymore. No more, it's over.
'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture I wouldn't know how to be this way now, and never to back down. So I wanna say thank you 'cause it makes me that much stronger, makes me work a little bit harder, makes me that much wiser. So thanks for making me a fighter. Made me learn a little bit faster, made my skin a little bit thicker, makes me that much smarter.
So thanks for making me a fighter."

Birthday Week

My eyes welled up with moisture to the point I began to sob. It was Friday afternoon, and someone that day had told me I was lazy, selfish, and couldn't do anything right. Insults hurt the most when you believe them. I lay there on the floor of my bedroom, wondering why I could never do anything right. I glanced over to my sketchbooks propped up against the wall. I reached for my newest one, opened the cover, and tore out any and every page that even mentioned a stupid boy I once knew. I bawled and crinkled pages while mumbling to myself how idiotic I had been and was being. I wrote on the next blank page in big letters, "I hate that no matter where I am I'm not good enough" and stuffed my sketchbook back up against the wall.
After my breakdown Braden and I did our chores while Mom was at work.

That evening Ally rescued me from my house but I was still so upset I lay on the floor of her bedroom with my arm covering my eyes while Ally cleaned her room. Once I had the ability to contain myself we walked to Macey's to buy our traditional stash of junk food.

Later in the evening we went to mutual to a live nativity. At the end as we were walking out there was a man in a costume on a horse. I went over to pet the horse. I scratched it's forehead and rubbed it's chin. Soon it had nuzzled it's face against my stomach as I gave him affectionate massages. I thought back to my sister's gorgeous horse, Fame, who died a short time ago. I realized my group was leaving and said goodbye to the horse to catch up.

Saturday was a crazy day. I left the sleepover at my friend's house and soon after found out this stupid boy had told her that I was telling him secrets about her or something, which I really did not understand. She sent me a message asking if she could trust me or not. After talking it over, we figured it out and my friend and I were back to normal.

Later my mom and I went shopping for clothes for her birthday present to me. I got a pair of jeans, a waist belt, and some earrings. While we were at Target I bought Taylor Swift's new album "Speak Now" with the money from my grandma. I. Love. It.

My actual birthday on Sunday was pretty boring.  It was fast Sunday, so I couldn't go anywhere or eat anything. We ate dinner that night, though, and it was so delicious, I probably ate like thirds along with seconds.

It's Thursday, and since Sunday I've had four nosebleeds. This wintery dry air thing is getting ridiculous.