The End of Another Year

Last year around this time I was excited for 2010 to be over. I was happy to be leaving behind crummy memories of heartbreak and drama and loneliness that no one wanted to talk about even when I needed to talk. I knew the next year would be different, as they all are. For better or worse... and hoping for better... I was ready for it.

This year I feel different. Like I haven't really accomplished anything. (Except get fatter. Which isn't actually an accomplishment at all.) It frustrates me. I'm not ready for the new year this year. I feel like I've procrastinated and need some sort of due date to be extended so I can do something important before the year's over. When I actually look back, a lot of good things have happened this year. So why do I feel so empty?

.

Crazy

The past few weeks before Christmas break I went crazy. Literally.
There was this guy. We were always just friends but one particularly lonely day I decided I had feelings for him. Then the next day he was just a friend. Then the next day I had feelings for him again. The pattern continued for probably 2 weeks, confusing my poor small brain more than it could stand. At a sleepover at Ally's a few days ago I texted him and told him I kind of liked him. I went on this whole dramatic tangent and felt good that he finally knew. But what do you know? It's Christmas Eve, and he's right back to friend status.
I sent him the most awkward email in the world saying so.

What is wrong with me?

Those Little Things I'll Never Say

There are some people that should NEVER know what I think about them. But others... I kind of wish I could tell them but know it would be the most humiliating thing I could ever do. I tell myself that on the last day of school I can just go ahead and tell them, considering I'll never see them again. But what if I do see them again? It's all so complicated.

The Prayer

I couldn't believe what was happening. I figured I'd make up my F before term ended, but it never occurred to me that the F could keep me from going on the Salt Lake Tour with Footnotes. On the ride home on Wednesday I ranted about it to my carpool, telling them all about my plan to fix my grades after school. My mom was really ashamed of me and dropped me off at home to work on it while she went Christmas shopping. As I sat down in the office chair in front of my stacks of paper I broke down in hysterical sobs. I felt like my life was worth nothing and not worth living anymore.
Later that evening I had a choir concert at the school. During our second concert we sang Prayer of the Children. The lyrics say:
"Can you hear the prayer of the children,
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry,
Turning heavenward toward the light.
Cryin' who will help me to see the morning light of one more day?
But if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take.
Can you feel the hearts of the children,
Aching for home, for something of their very own?
Reaching hands with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day, a better day.
Cryin' who will help me to feel the love again in my own land?
But if unknown roads lead away from home,
Give me loving arms, away from harm.
Can you hear the voice of the children,
Softly pleading for silence in their shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
Blood of the innocent on their hands.
Cryin' Jesus help me to feel the sun again upon my face.
For when darkness clears, I know you're near,
Bringing peace again.
Can you hear the prayer of the children?"

My eyes again filled with tears and the words of the song all of the sudden meant so much more. I really needed a reminder of my everlasting friendship with the Savior that day.
And after hard work and fervent prayers, I'll be going to Salt Lake City tomorrow.

Grudge

I've become acquainted with a grudge lately, and it won't leave me alone. I obtained it through someone I loved for reasons I can't even seem to remember anymore.
After all he did, I told myself I forgave him. And with him not involved in my life anymore, it was easy. But this year he seems to show up everywhere, and every time I see him it's a reminder that deep down I never forgave him. That deep down I don't even tolerate him, I hate him. I hate seeing him. I can't even say his name because of the sour taste it puts in my mouth.

I know I need to forgive him, but a little piece of me keeps telling me he doesn't deserve it.

Watching Closely

I was just about to give up on Steven.
I decided to give it one last shot before I concluded he didn't want to talk to me anymore. I included him in my  prayers Saturday night, little hope left in my shaken heart. The next day was Mom's birthday and I texted Steve and asked him to come. Steve never replies to texts, not even to most of his friends. But he replied to mine. "What time?"
I couldn't have been more happy. Steve came over and he actually talked to me. I showed him some of my favorite songs and he said even though we don't see each other very often I could message him anytime on Facebook and we could talk.

I think back to how I was just about to give up. Heavenly Father knew that, and He didn't want me to. I believe he watches very closely.

Marriage

As my class walked into Seminary we all received a number on a card. The boys had blue cards and the girls had pick. We then found our matching number and had to sit next to them as husband and wife the rest of class. There were only a few really attractive people and a couple of the boys in the class I really didn't like. I was holding my breath as I looked around the room. Ah ha. 7. Inside had a giddy smile as attractive and surprisingly really nice guy sat next to me.
"Hey Tessa."
Holy cow he knows my name! I marveled in my head. I figured I was invisible to most of the people at school.

We watched Disney love scenes and filled out worksheets about what we want out future spouses to be like. Then we talked about Isaac's wife, Rebekah, and all of her good traits.
When class was over I didn't want to say anything awkward like "It was nice being married to you" or something so I just smiled and left.

Later in the lunch line I stood with my friend, chatting away. And of course my husband ends up in the line right next to me with his group of attractive friends. "That's my wife," he said to them, smiling. We all laughed and for a moment I felt all of their eyes on me. Popular people never notice me, I thought and smiled back.
"You're blushing like crazy," my friend said to me when we turned back to face the front of the line. That just made me blush more, my face a fiery red.

It was a good day to be married.

A Different Kind of Heartbreak

Half of you might not even know that I have an older brother.
He's Janell's twin and he's ignored me my entire life. He doesn't really like children. Growing up and never let it bother me, but when I got older I guess it felt like an injustice that my only older brother didn't love me.
One of the few times Steve was over last year, Mom sent him to do an errand and, to my surprise, he asked me to tag along. We drove down the road in his red car that smelled just like him with BoysLikeGirls music blasting crazily loud through the speakers. As we wandered through the store I told him about all of my boy problems and he gave me advice. We talked for a long time and I felt like I had just made a new friend. When he dropped me off at home I said goodbye and he promised we'd talk again soon.

The next time he came over months later I tried to talk to him but he seemed to have better and more important things to do. He ignored me and continued to talk to Mom and Dad about something I wasn't paying attention to. This happened every time he came over from then on. I tried to stick around him whenever he came over and act especially mature to show him I'm not a child anymore. Sometimes I would put on BoysLikeGirls hoping he would notice. Nothing made a difference.
A couple months ago he dropped by to get some mail. He gathered his papers and it wasn't long before he was headed back out the door. I didn't know when I would see him again. I decided to speak up. "Steve," I begged, "Give me a hug." He briefly smiled, his lips surrounded by longish stubble, and gave me a warm embrace. He then turned the door knob, took one last look at the living room with his grey-blue eyes, and disappeared behind the door.

A few weeks later a lady from our ward was visiting our house. She asked how Steve was doing and I started to cry. I could still smell his cologne and feel his hug in my mind. As I told her about my need for my older brother, she made me a promise. She said she'd pray every night for he and I to be friends again. She said she wouldn't ever give up. Every Sunday after church when I would see her in the halls she would pull me in a close hug and whisper in my ear. "We're still trying, okay?"

Steve came by last night. I didn't play any music, I didn't try hard to look good, I didn't even go upstairs. I just listened to his footsteps walk out the door and wonder why I even try to make him love me.

Free

I think because I had a bad experience people think I don't have crushes anymore. Let me tell you a secret. If a teen girl says "I don't like anyone" you can assume it's the biggest lie you've ever heard. I have like 4 crushes right now. I just don't go parading around announcing it to the world like I used to. No, I'm not going to tell you who I like, so don't ask.
Back in my obsessive days, all I thought about was the same person, 24/7. My emotions were based off how many times I had seen him that day. It was not good at all. It's great to know what a little crush feels like rather than an obsession. Every once in a while someone will make me smile, but then I can still move on with my normal life. Thinking about it today, I realized how free I feel. I'm happy.

Arachnophobia

I have an intense fear of spiders. And today I walked down the hall to find a lovely surprise. It's eight long, curved legs twitched disgustingly and a high-pitched screech escaped from my lips. I ran up the stairs, searching frantically for a weapon. My offense of choice: a ten-pound dumbbell. I carried it quickly down the stairs and entered my room. I approached the vial creature, but within about three feet of it's creeping body I stopped. I couldn't get any closer. The originally stationary spider had a spurt of movement in which it scurried a few inches across the floor. I jumped back in alarm. If I took even one more step that spider would be he death of me.
I called Braden. I was on the brink of hysteria on the phone. "Where are you???"
"I'm getting a ride home, what do you want?"
"There's a spider on the floor in my room and I can't kill it!" I was talking a billion miles an hour. "COMEHOMEI'MGONNADIE!"
"Watch the spider so we don't lose it, I'll be there in a sec."
I hung up the phone, staring at the spider. It made quick, jerky movements, and every time it even twitched my throat squelched in horror. I felt like I was watching it for hours. It made its way into my blue sweatshirt hanging on the closet doorknob. I was hyperventilating by the time Braden got home.

With a quick swing of his leg, his foot slammed down on the monster, putting an end to my misery. Thank heavens for little brothers.

Where I Belong

I sat on the grass, feeling lonely. I had stayed after school, but no one at the house could give me a ride home. I wanted to call Kayla, but I didn't want to sound pathetic or annoying. After a few minutes I did anyway, and she happily came and rescued me.
"How was your day?"
I felt like sobbing. And after about 3 words, I did.
"I don't belong anywhere," I ranted, "I had a billion friends last year and most of them don't even acknowledge my presence anymore. I don't really have a group of friends these days, it's like I just follow around the same one friend. Sometimes I don't even feel like I belong in the nerd herd anymore. Everywhere I go I feel out of place. Even when I'm alone I don't feel accepted because I don't even like myself."

I'm pretty sure Heaven was eavesdropping on my conversation and was determined to prove me wrong.

Friday my parents, Braden, and I went up to Gardner Village. I haven't seen my mom so happy for a really long time. And you know what they say; when Mom's happy, everybody's happy. I took pictures obsessively and loved spending time and goofing off with my family.
Then on Saturday night I went to a "Halloween party" that was really a surprise birthday party for my friend. Those girls are so amazing and made me feel so loved. We laughed hysterically and had a great time together.

The weekend really did show me where I belong in this world, and I'm so incredibly grateful.

Weak Things

I've had a screaming headache. For over 48 hours.
And lately I can't seem to keep going back. Just thinking about memories, the way things used to be. I think it's becoming a bad habit. Life just used to be a lot better.
I've felt hated and beat up in the past few weeks. By myself and some people very close to me. I've asked myself a lot of "Why?" and "What if...?" questions.
It's the end of term. This school year has been rough. And when I come to think of it, they just get rougher every year. Does it go on like this forever? No wonder people die when they're old. By then they're lives must be pure misery.
I wish I understood everything, but I don't. I hardly understand anything right now. So I'm here, typing a pessimistic blog post while listening to a loud pounding in my head.

Ether 12:27
"And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."

For All Girls

I look at all those girls at school. They all seem to have the perfect life. Every day is a good hair day, they have all of the fashionable clothes, they're gorgeous, they're skinny, they're talented at everything, and all of the popular boys revolve around them. And then I look at myself. Bad hair days, no fashionable clothes, frumpy, overweight, clumsy, and a failure at everything I attempt.
I feel judged all the time. I'm insecure, sometimes I hate myself. I'm sleep deprived. I wish I was anyone but myself. Sometimes I wish I could just run away from my own body. A lot of times I think, "Of all people, why am I me?"
I feel like I can never be good enough.

If you feel like this too, read back at the top paragraph. And remember that you're one of those girls at school to everyone but yourself.

You Are Amazing.

People Change

I hate how much people change. One minute they're one person and the next they're someone you've never even seen before. I mean, I've changed a lot, too, since then but I'm still me. I just don't understand how someone can be your friend one day and be the friend of your one and only enemy the next.
Or how someone can be your prince charming one day and turn into your one and only enemy the next.
Or how someone can be your best friend since you were 2 years old one day and just ignore the fact that you exist the next.
Or how someone can look up to you one day and think you're a freak teenager the next.

Why does everyone has to change? Why do people come into our lives just to leave? Why did we even have to know them in the first place if it wasn't going to last? Why can't we just have ONE friend that stays around?

I don't understand.

Gifts

When I asked my friend what she wanted for her birthday, she said she wanted us to have matching pajama pants. I picked out the perfect pants and was so excited to show them to her and wear them at all of our sleepovers. She acted happy, but said they were too small. I wanted her to enjoy them, so I took them back, got a bigger size, and gave her the new pants the very next day.

She hasn't even worn them once. She threw them in the very back of a drawer, never to be seen again.

This week I've been thinking about talents. Talents are God's gifts to us. We all have some, whether we know it or not. Don't throw yours in the back of a drawer.

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'" --Erma Bombeck

It Came With the Rain

Last year I hit a rough patch. And every time I cried, it rained. It got to the point every time it rained someone would call me asking if I was okay. Usually I wasn't.

This year I've been a lot happier, especially during the summer's warm weather.
Then I started hearing Adele's song, Set Fire to the Rain, and Bruno Mars's song, It Will Rain. The weather started getting cold and wet. In P.E. we played soccer in the rain. We walked to Seminary in the rain. In science we learned about hurricanes. When I got home, finally out of the precipitation zone, I took the dog outside and stood in the wet grass. I looked out the window to see puddles in the streets.
I didn't wear a jacket to school, like I was rebelling against the weather. The weather didn't care and got even wetter.
And the other day I finally found myself sitting on my bed bawling pathetically. I don't even remember why. I believe it came with the rain.

3 Things

I was blog stalking... and I found this post of "3 Things" and thought it was cool. So here I am.

3 Joys:
1. When my drawings actually turn out pretty.
2. When really attractive guys acknowledge my existence.
3. Sleepovers.

3 Fears:
1. Spiders. I am so paranoid all the time because I think a spider is going to jump out randomly and bite the entire bottom half of my body off. I know, depressing.
2. Being forgotten. It's true. I think everybody's going to forget me. And then about half of them do... But that's beside the point.
3. Bad grades.

3 Goals:
1. Marry a hot R.M.
2. Get on the High Honor Roll in stead of the Honor Roll.
3. Become a professional photographer.

3 Obsessions:
1. Music. I have like 957647569 favorite songs.
2. Blankets. Even in the summer when it's 1,000 degrees outside I still HAVE to have a blanket when I'm sitting on the couch.
3. Nail Polish.

3 Random Facts:
1. My favorite band of all time is The Script. And I love Danny O'Donoghue with all of my heart.
2. I've been taking Spanish for eight years.
3. I take pictures of every little thing, like I'll want to remember every pair of shoes I've ever owned when I'm 80 years old.

Falcon Idol

 "Are you nervous?" One of the techies asked me.
"Oh yeah," I replied, peeking passed the curtain just enough to see Mrs. Williams on the stage.
"I'd like to welcome a lovely young lady, Miss Tessa Hatchett!" she said to the crowd as they erupted with clapping.

 "I've got my own little fan club out there," I said to myself as I walked across the stage.

My music started. My legs were shaking. At first I wasn't really paying attention to the crowd, just the words, and just my feelings. But when I got to the chorus, I noticed them. A sea of swaying lights. Phones were out all over the auditorium, cheering me on.
It almost completely took my breath away.
I finished my song, the music quieting and the crowd exploding with insane applause. I received the biggest standing ovation of the night. I smiled so wide my mouth reached off of my face as I looked over at my little fan club that had quickly transformed into something much bigger. It was the most exhilarating thing I've ever seen.

Backstage was a blast after that. The nervousness off my shoulders, I danced around, made improv hand actions for the songs, and laughed for the rest of the show. I made so many new friends being in the show, it was so much fun. All of those people were so awesome and so encouraging.

After the show was over we all received our score sheets from the judges. When I opened my envelope the first thing I saw was, "I felt it from you. Nice emotional connection." I felt so accomplished having done just what I wanted to do.

A little later I found out from the people counting the votes that I came in fourth place. They only give prizes to first, second, and third places but I still felt so proud of myself for how far I came from my first audition. I didn't do Falcon Idol to win, I did it to have fun, and that I did.

I'm so grateful for this amazing experience and all of the experiences to come because of it. I'll never forget it, it's been one of the best things I've ever done. :)

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.

Snapshots

Auditions

"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.

Rivers

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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

Strenuous

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....

Someone Who Understands

The start of the weekend wasn't easy. Everyone at home was stressed out for different reasons so I slept over with my two best friends, Ally and Sam. We lay sprawled across Ally's bed, playing the whole "I don't know, what do you want to do?" game. My mind wasn't really up to it. I felt distracted and secluded. Of course Sam noticed something was wrong. (How does she always do that??) I insisted I was completely fine, just thinking. It was a lie. I didn't feel fine at all. I just didn't want to talk about it. Finally, after they badgered me for like 5246831 hours, I agreed I would text them, because my body and mind were really not up to talking about it. I then sent 7 messages worth of a bit of an explanation.
A small part of it said, "I hate talking about it. I hate how depressed I get. I get sick of the same people telling me the same things that don't mean anything. It's all "you're amazing Tessa" when they're really thinking, "wowww she just needs to chill out". No one understands. They just pretend to. I'm tired. Tired of pretending."
I refused to cry. So I lay stiffly and stubbornly on the bed. They read the message without a word. They knew there was nothing they could do to cheer me up. As the evening progressed I got over my troubles and went to sleep at about 2:00 in the morning.

I got home Saturday mid morning, my mind, once again, disturbed by unwelcome thoughts. I stared in the mirror as I threw my sloppy ponytail up and the words kept coming back to me. You should talk to Kayla. I rustled through my pocket and just as I was holding my phone to call/text my big sis, it jingled. "Kayla Rowberry: What are you up to today?" I grinned an enormous grin that spread across my face. We walked to Macey's together in the hot sun to get excersize, eat ice cream, and get "tan like black men". When we got home we sat under a shade tree, getting eaten by bugs and telling deep dark secrets. We went inside and watched silly YouTube videos and ate waffles. It was a great day that really lifted my spirits.

I vented and told her things I hardly tell anyone. I knew I could trust her and she related to everything I said. I thought back to the night before. No one understands, I had thought. But Saturday I was reminded there's someone who always does. I was afraid I would lose that, but now I know I never will.

Whoops

As you might have noticed, I've switched things up a bit and changed my blog background and colors. As you also might have noticed about two of my posts are messed up. Meaning they are highlighted/colored incorrectly.

This is because the days I wrote those posts Blogger was having a spazzm and turned the words black and highlighted them white. Obnoxious. So I changed them back to kind of-almost relatively the same-ish colors because when writing a post there are limited colors you can use, but in the overall template settings, it has every color there ever was.

That's my story. I hope it doesn't drive your OCD crazy like it does mine.

What Are You?

In English class we were assigned to write a paper about what we are. Yes, WHAT, not who.
And because all of you lovely souls are obviously bored of something to do, I have decided to bless you with that very thing. Here is my paper.

"What am I? Sometimes I ask myself the same thing. After being asked this very question I put the rest of the afternoon into figuring it out. I did come out with a few answers of which I will now share with you.

      I am a lover. In other words I can’t imagine life without my friends and get a bit attached to them. Unfortunately this particular quality has caused me a lot of grief, not to mention too much drama for my taste.
I am a klutz. I would probably trip on a paperclip if you set it in the right spot.
       I am a shower singer. Footnotes is my favorite class (no offense Ms. Moe). I once sang in a singing competition in which I forgot some of my lyrics and shook like an earthquake the entire time. I’m pretty much traumatized for life. But still my poor family is treated to their own loud obnoxious concert every time I shower. Also every time I cook, clean, walk up and down the stairs, tie my shoes, draw, listen to music, or do homework...
       I am a fluent speaker of sarcasm and Spanglish. My conversations at home often include pointless and non-offensive insults with the few random Spanish words I happen to know.
       I am a “Belieber” (i.e. a Justin Bieber fan).
       I am 90% extrovert and 10% introvert. I have many friends and love to talk and share my opinions. But when placed in a large group of strange people all expecting me to say something relatively intelligent, I tend to get bit shy.
       I am a girly nerd. For further explanation, I take the advanced classes at school, but instead of playing video games I paint nails.

       I’m a weirdo. So just deal with it."

Here We Are.

What did I tell you? Of course there's a first day of school post.

I entered the school fully equipped with my pillow binder and Justin Bieber notebook.The day went by pretty normally. It felt like just a week ago I was doing the same thing; roaming the halls, getting a billion hugs a day, writing notes, and spending "five years" at my locker (as my guyfriends put it. They don't understand my major need for primping after 3 periods of everyone trying to braid my hair.).

As you know, we're pretty much the top dogs this year. Ninth grade is going to be awesome.
A1 World Geography was boring.. nothing else to say about it.
A2 Honors English was awesome, not to mention I have a thousand friends in that class and my teacher is hilarious.
A3 Spanish 4 was surprising. There's only 9 people in that class including me... It's gonna be a fun year.
Lunch was pretty exciting. I found my baby brother and introduced him to my posse (i.e. four guys and a girl--all taller than me). We harassed him cause his only good friend so far had a different lunch so he was flyin' solo.
A4 was P.E. I've never liked that class a single day of my life.

Tomorrow's supposed to be the better day of the two, though, so I'm expecting great things. Yeah. This year is gonna' be beast.

Huzzah.

Sooo I was surfing through my blog dashboard. And I found a magic button called "Stats". It was quite the shocker. Total views on my blog= (Drumroll please)... 9,175. And since I'm a math geek I divided that number by the total number of blog posts, which is 149, and if we're assuming each blog post was read an equal amount of times, that would mean each post has been seen approximately 61 times. HOLY CRAP.

After this little discovery I added my followers to any frequent commenters that don't officially follow my blog, and I got to 26. It's crazy to think that 26 people read my pathetic rants and pointless stories. I LOVE YOU GUYS. And I'm glad you're slightly entertained.You all made my day. I'm glad there's always someone listening, and knowing people actually read this makes me never want to stop blogging. School starts this week, so come back to check for a few interesting stories. :)


......
Awh, you guys are just so awesome. :')

Futuristic Thoughts

I went through my normal routine blog stalking when I came across my all-time favorite, my sister's. In her most recent post she talked about how her life is so different than what she thought it would be.

At that thought I wondered what I thought my life would be like right now when I was in elementary school. I guess back then I just assumed my life would stay the same forever. I would have the same best friends, Dad would still tuck me in at night, and no matter how old I got I'd still be me. I guess technically I'm the same person, but at the same time I know I'm not. I've had experiences that have truly tested my strength and with them came new beginnings. I hear my old favorite songs and it takes me away to a time I didn't know how much life could toss someone around to the point they aren't even the same person.

Then I thought about my fantasies of my future. I'll go to Timpanogas High School, graduate, and then meet a hot R.M. in college. We'll get married and then like five years later we'll buy a house and have three kids that all have darkish brown hair and green eyes, just like my husband. Then my husband and I will grow old and become some of those super cute old people that work in the temple. The end.

But we all know that's not gonna happen. My parents will probably move me to some hill-billy state like Tennessee and I'll end up with a creep with a 3-foot beard and in overalls following me around and I'll have to break it to him that I'm off to Utah the second I turn 18 to fulfill my dreams.

I guess that won't happen either now that I've foreseen it. Life just works like that. It never goes as planned. But thank the heavens on that one, I'd rather live in a cardboard box than move anywhere.

One thing I can correctly foresee is that someday I'll look back at this post and wonder what in the world I'm babbling about. And then why I didn't stop making plans for my future and just let it all happen. So I guess that's what I'll do.

Love at Home

"There is beauty all around, when there's love at  no one home..."

For reasons even I'd like to know, Braden and I have never gotten along. The day he came home from the hospital I stepped on his head. I spent the rest of his years as a baby trying to hide him. Under blankets, stuffed animals, and any other convenient nearby object.

Once Braden could talk/walk, our rivalry got more complex. Braden would steal toys from my room, I'd steal them back, and the next thing we knew we were sitting holding hands in the chairs of love. Your common time-out chair consists of the child sitting in a corner for a certain period of time. Our time-out chairs were much more evil and we had to sit in the chairs holding hands and singing Love at Home until we both apologized. Of course, it was even more torturous because I was too stubborn to believe I'd done anything wrong.

I lived my entire childhood thoroughly convinced that Braden's sole purpose in life was to ruin mine. We wrecked every loving family song in the book.
"I hate brother, he hates me, we hate sister, yessiree. They all hate us, and so you see, we're such a loving family..."


But recently things have almost reached a midpoint. Nowadays Braden and I are either really nice to each other or really not. When we're not yelling at each other, we're actually pretty good siblings. We make each other lunch, I let Braden sleep in my room when he has a nightmare, we play games together, we joke around, Braden wakes me up in the morning when I forget to turn my alarm on... all of that good stuff.

For family home evening on Monday night our family has a song night. We all harmonized and it was way cool. I was proud of myself when I hit every note to High On a Mountain Top. We sang probably over 20 songs, everyone suggesting their favorites. At the end I was really hoarse, but as I sang and looked around at my family and really felt that love at home. Even though sometimes they drive you crazy, your family members are the people that are always there. Your friends come and go but you can always count on that loving family at home to take care of you.

Little Miss Maisie

Everyone in our family says they wake up in the morning wondering if they're still dreaming. The entire time we've been in Utah we haven't had a family pet until now and it still seems a bit... abnormal. You look at her and think, Oh, there's the cute dog I'm babysitting. But inside you know that you're gonna have that cute dog for up to 15 years.

Having a puppy comes with many advantages and disadvantages.
For one,  she's adorable and fun to play with. But with that comes the fact that she chews on everything, including hands, feet, and other necessary body parts.
Secondly, eventually she'll be potty trained and life will be easy. But on the down side... she's not potty trained and has had like seven accidents two or three of which I had to clean up.
Thirdly, she's very forgiving. Which is good because we've tripped over her about 289475329865209475 times in the past few days.

Overall I've decided it's worth it. Someday when she's older she'll get over the chewing thing and will ring her little service bell by the door when she needs to go out. And by then she'll be bigger and less likely to be tripped over so much. I guess the lesson to be learned here is that puppies are a lot of work, but in the end you have a happy little dog trained just the way you want it. I look forward to then. But for now I might as well enjoy getting my toes gnawed off by a crazy little puppy.

Ready for School

School starts in ten days. WEIRD.

I almost don't know what do expect going into ninth grade. Seventh grade I started as a nervous, hygienically-challenged, confused mouse. Eighth grade I started as a starstruck, twitterpated fluffball with her head stuck down a hole in the ground. I don't know how I'm starting this year, but I at least can have the reassurance it's gonna be better than any past ones.

This week mom and I went school clothes shopping. I get new clothes about twice a year and right before school is one of them. I got three pairs of jeans, a couple cute shirts, and a few pairs of shoes to wear throughout the year. You'd think clothes shopping would be a downer, worrying about sizes and all, but it actually makes me feel better about myself. I don't know, I guess there's something about looking all spiffy in your new jeans that fit you perfectly that just makes you realize that no matter what you look like, you can always look good with what you've got.

Let me tell you, I am SO ready for school to start. I've gotten to that point I've done everything I wanted to this summer, and now I'm just ready to go hang out with my friends and show them the tan I never thought I'd have. ;) My classes are all perfectly arranged, I've got a really nice locker, and this year is looking better than ever.

Ally is in Algebra and I'm in Algebra 2, so we agreed I'll have to come over on some weekdays to help with homework. Things are really looking up for us. Before, I had convinced myself that her friends at Maeser would somehow replace me. But now I realize that I'll still have all of my separate school friends, just like she'll have hers, but none of that will ruin the friendship we have now.

Life really is going by pretty smoothly for me right now. *Knock on wood* Every day I find myself smiling and one point or another, no matter how many annoying moments there are. I'm not dreading what life is waiting throw at me, I'm ready for it.

Someday You'll Believe It

Ever since the beginning of time when I looked in the mirror I didn't see a young woman. I saw zits and freckles fat and frizz and wide feet and hairy arms and every little blemish I could possibly find.
When I got my phone my friend Sam told me she would harass me every day. I didn't realize how true that was until at least once every day she texted me with the same sentence of "Tessa you're a babe!!!" (The "babe" thing started out as an inside joke.) The first little while I thought the whole, Why thank you! but it faded a bit to You don't really mean that... to Still? I thought I was a babe yesterday.

My "babeness" soon just became routine. My phone let off it's tweetle-toot and there was the same message. One day I was feeling especially irritable and only replied with short answers. With a lack of much else to say, Sam finally elaborated. "I have to tell you every day so someday you'll believe it."

It definitely was something I never could have expected to hear. She always knows my ups and downs and is there whenever I need her. I took that daily text message as a total joke and the entire time she sincerely meant it and wanted me to know I'm good enough for everyone else even when I'm not good enough for myself. A flicker of hope lit up inside me. Maybe someday I will.

Meeting Maisie

We've never really had family pets in Utah. Though I did have a fish named Fluffy, but he soon died and was flushed down the toilet. I never had a pet ever again. Well, until now.

Ever since Laika's death, my sister has wanted another dog. My parents vowed to never have on outside dog again, but Dad didn't want an inside dog. This was a problem.  We researched for a while before finding the perfect one for our family. Small, doesn't shed, cute as anything. A West Highland Terrier.

One day Mom said she'd found one, but much to our disappointment, it was sold before we had the chance to investigate. But we continued to search online for available dogs. Yesterday we finally found one.

Today I met her for the first time.

She was completely perfect. She nuzzled up against me, already loving a complete stranger. She likes to cuddle and be held, and is just the sweetest puppy I've ever met. I didn't want to let go. I wanted to just take her home with me right then, but we did have to leave her until she's a week older and when we have all of the necessary supplies. You have no idea how excited we are to have her in our family.

After researching Scottish names, we've decided to name her Maisie. I'm already completely in love with her. :)

July Adventures

June was probably the lamest summer month ever. I didn't do anything. Ally and I just sat around on her leather couches all day proposing adventurous ideas such as sitting on the teeter-totter in her backyard.

But July was different. The first week of July I got phone calls from five different friends in one day. Here's some other things I've done.

Got bored one day. Tied Braden up with yarn. Why not?

Had a late-night after Celebrity with some crazy girls.

Went to the mall with Ally and hugged a cardboard Justin Bieber.

Went to the mall with my cute neighbor-friends and tried on some hot lip gloss.

Harry Potter. 'Nough said.

Started drawing more.

Watched Andrea swing.

 Pushed Andrea in the swing.

 Hung out with my (AMAZING) sister and took pictures of Andrea in the swing.

Got a phone!!!!!!!!! :D

(For any of you who desire my number, you might already have it. We no longer have a house phone. The home phone number is now mine.)

I'm sure August holds futures adventures, and I certainly look forward to it!

Nightmares

Here I was, finally in my bed. Snuggled under my covers I had no way of knowing sleep would bring the first showing of my now-reoccurring nightmare.
..............................
I sat at the edge of a V-shaped cliff with my childhood best friend, Laura. We sat and ate on a picnic blanket until a few of her friends showed up. We, of course, made room for them and they sat down and began to eat with us. Soon more and more people came to the picnic. They were all talking among themselves. It was like I didn't exist. It wasn't long until there were so many people I was squeezed out of the circle and fell over the edge of the cliff, my old best friend becoming a spec in the distant sky.
I hit the water, attempting to keep myself above the surface with little success. Finally I washed up on shore. I glanced back at the mountain, my heart broken.

I picked myself up and began to walk. There was only one place I could go; Ally's house. I walked miles and miles all the way to her house. Exhausted, I turned the corner to find her house looking a lot different. Giant pillars of the white building towered over the entire cul-de-sac. It looked just like Maeser Academy. She sat on the porch with several teenagers I didn't recognize. They laughed and as I approached they didn't even look at me. Before I could have time to cry I ran away from her "house" as fast as I could.

I found myself at the home of my other best friend, Sam. I knocked on the door of her apartment to find a large hairy man on the other side, slowing chewing on a disgusting looking burger. I asked him where Sam's family was, and he told me they had moved to California. My world stopped spinning. I didn't say anything more to the hairy man, just walked slowly home, unbelieving that I had just lost all of my best friends.
.............................

I awoke feeling very upset. It was 5:00 in the morning, but I knew there was no going back to sleep.

Trek Moments: For the Beauty of the Earth

I know, I know. I still haven't posted anything about trek. But the post I've been working on is just WAY too long, so I decided to do it in pieces.

On the last day of trek, we climbed giant hills for probably two hours. It was one of the most exhausting things I've ever done. I felt drops land on my arms and think it was raining before realizing it was my own sweat. I didn't know a person could sweat so much. I swear I was sweating out of every pour on my body. It was disgusting. Every muscle in my body ached and screamed, my throat parched.

But we finally got to the top of the mountain to flat ground. We sat on the ground and ate our lunches while resting, took pictures as families, and had a brief testimony meeting. After all business was done, we had a bit of free time to roam around and socialize.

Ally and I walked across the cracked dirt and stared blankly into the valley. But off to the side something caught my eye. The clearing was surrounded by scruffy bushes, like everything else was. But through a crack between two bushes, I saw specs of bright purple and blue, shining in the sun. I dragged Ally out of the clearing and through the two bushes to find this:

It was the beautiful place I've ever been. I was ecstatic, running around the field of flowers, taking a ridiculous amount of pictures. Ally wasn't nearly as amused as I was and left. But I stayed in the field, wanting to never leave. To just sit down on a rock and stay with the flowers forever. I can't describe the feeling I had there. Right before Ally left I said to her, "Heaven's going to be full of flowers."

 It truly was a sanctuary. I eventually left, a single wildflower tucked into the knot in my bonnet, reminding me of the pure beauty of life, even in the roughest of times.

Failing on Stage

"...Tessa Hatchett singing Make You Feel My Love..."
The moment came too quickly. I wasn't ready. But I was soon pushed toward the door leading out onto the stage. I walked shyly across the set, looking out at the audience. Friends, family, neighbors. They were all here for me.

I stepped up to the microphone. The music started. My heart was beating a million miles an hour, my breaths suddenly shallow. And there was my cue. I swallowed what seemed like an endless amount of spit and began. "When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love..." My voice shook along with the rest of my body. My hands, knees, and my heart all shook uncontrollably.
"...When the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love. I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong..." My parents beamed in the audience, my friends all waving at me. You can do this, I said to myself in my head.

I opened my mouth. No words. The band kept playing in the background. I knew the words from hours of practice, but nothing came out of my mouth. The moment lasted an eternity. I looked back at the guitarist and down at the ground, suddenly fiddling with my hair. I almost expected to get kicked off the stage or booed or for my song to just stop. But the music kept playing, and the people in front of me kept staring in anticipation. I picked up on the next line I could think of, "...No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do, to make you feel my love..."

It was the instrumental break when the humiliation set in. I'm a failure, I said to myself, I try and try but there will never be something I can just do right. I stared around, choking back tears. And there was my cue again. "The storms are raging on the rolling sea, and on the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowing wild and free. You ain't seen nothing like me yet..." It took a tremendous effort to keep singing when I knew I had already failed everyone. My family, my friends, my neighbors, my supporters, and me.

I sang the last words of the song, and hole still burning in my delicate heart. "I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. There's nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the earth for you, to make you feel my love..." The music finally slowed. "To make you feel my love." With the applause I headed back as quickly as I could. I walked through the halls backstage and around the back of the building and sat down among loved ones in the audience. "You did amazing," they all said. All I could say was, "I forgot my lyrics."

That night I watched my recorded performance on my camera. My voice shook terribly and when I forgot the words, the pain was clear on my face. I've never seen a person so panicked on stage.

I wrote in my journal.
"July 13, 2011  11:32 p.m.
I can't sleep.
Today was my first solo performance. F-.
I sand "Make You Feel My Love" by Adele. I shook like I was in an earthquake, messed with my hair, and forgot an entire verse of the song.
I wish I could forget tonight. Everyone says I did good and that they're proud of me, but after watching it on my camera, I know it's all lies.
I think I'll cry all through the night."

Leaving for Trek

It was 5:00 in the morning. I forgot to pack pajamas... how am I going to squish those in with everything else? I really hope _____ isn't in my family. She harasses me enough already. It's so lame they won't let us be with friends. 8 miles? That seems like a lot of walking for the first day. Didn't the pioneers have covered wagons? My thoughts were swarmed with questions and worries. I couldn't imagine what the pioneer trek was going to be like, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't sleep.

Soon I gave up on counting sheep and slithered out of bed. Decked out in a pioneer dress and apron, I found Braden upstairs in his costume, too. He looked more like a gardener. We wandered around the house a while before our parents finally woke up and we ate breakfast. Everything was packed tightly into my bucket (a 6 lb. bucket instead of a backpack so I can sit on it at mealtime).

"No wonder a bunch of the pioneers died," I said to my family, "I don't know how any of them survived without iPods." They all laughed at me and my dad proceeded to tease my wimpiness throughout the morning.

Later my mom came in the office when I was checking my email. "What's up?" she asked.
"I'm just enjoying my last moments," I said.
"You're going to trek, not to your own funeral," Mom reminded me with an eye roll.
It's pretty much the same thing.

I'm off to the canyons to hike with gardeners, buckets, and handcarts. At least we'll have flowers to put on my grave.

A Holiday Weekend.

The weekend started pretty normally. My brother drove me crazy, I ran around with the neighborhood kids in the backyard, listened to music, and hung around the house. 

On Friday, while I was lazing around, my 9-year-old neighbor-friend showed up on my doorstep with a pair of white shoes. "Color on these," she said. Oooh, a project, I thought. I smiled and got out the Sharpie markers.

 I was proud of my creation.

On Saturday my grandma took us up to Salt Lake City for Braden's birthday. We saw Cars 2 at the Megaplex and looked around in the planetarium. 

I hear the moon is a good place to think.

Lemon Julius from Orange Julius="Fluffy lemonade"=My favorite drink in the world.<3

On Monday, the Fourth of July, my grandma wanted to go to the Great Salt Lake. We drove for two hours to get there, I saw a lot of this.

When we finally got to the lake, we had to cross a seven-mile bride thing to get to the island in the middle of the lake. The view was the same the whole way. Dead-looking grass, a few fluffy bushes, water, and distant mountains.

When we got there, the instant we stepped out of the car we were swarmed with gazillions of stupid biting gnats. We swatted our arms and faces all the way up to the museum. We looked around a bit and jumped into the car, closing the doors as fast as we could. Those gnats were ninja, though, and about 50 of them managed to get in the car and bite up my arms, Braden's nose, and everyone else's scalp.

It was charming.

We were going to get out and touch the lake, but after the gnats we decided we weren't opening the car until we were off the island. We turned the AC on high, and because gnats like warm places, they all stayed on the ceiling of our car. I was frozen into a popsicle.

The people in the museum said if we drove around we'd find some buffalo. Yeah, right. We drove the entire expanse of the island and all we saw was this:

More dead-looking grass and a few fluffy bushes.

We soon head home back over the bridge and concocted a plan to get rid of our buggish friends. We opened the back doors and wiped at the ceiling, all of the gnats flying out the door.

After lunch and more hours of driving, we made it home alive. That night we did fireworks and a barbecue with some of the neighbors. It was definitely a very different holiday weekend.