A Trajedy and a Few of my Quirks

It all started with an art project.
A "Visual Puzzle", to be precise. Meaning a maze.
For my maze I drew a giraffe, the maze leading around the spots. I was proud of my giraffe, it being one of the best animals I've ever drawn. I turned it in with pride, content with the finished product.
The next day we had a group critique. Meaning a bunch of kids that are really good at drawing tell you what's good and bad about your work. Which is fine, but they suggested I put in a background. I schemed blending colors to make a soft, single-tone background, but my art teacher said it would be cool to have a little African tree or something instead.

I then set off on my quest. I printed pictures of African trees and got to work. The next thing I knew I had a scraggly tree on top of a bunch of scribbles representing grass and a few blue streaks for the sky. It. Was. Ruined. My eyes twitched and everything ran in slow motion.
Janell came and sat by me, offering help. She started fixing the tree by adding organic lines and more shades of green than were already there. And I watched her careful strokes I began to tear up.
(FACT: When I'm really frustrated, I cry. I hate it, but it's true.)
"It was the best thing I've ever drawn until I ruined it by adding a stupid background I didn't even want," I sniffled and dodged into the bathroom to blow my nose.

Janell taught me new techniques as she guided me through the fixing of my background disaster. After a while I just needed to lay down.
(FACT: When I'm really stressed out, I lay on my back somewhere on the floor. For some reason it's always the floor. . .)
My eyes felt dry so I closed them and attempted to clear my mind. A few moments later when I was calm enough, I had one last art lesson with my beloved sister before heading off to my basement bedroom to fully relax.

Sick of Being Sick

I somehow managed to maintain a hideous cold for about a week.
Day after day I'd blow my nose about every two minutes. Day after day I went to school and would empty my nose every hour and a half because I was too embarassed to blow it in class. Day after day I returned home with rash-like dry skin on my nose from the school tissues that are actually sandpaper in disguise.

The routine was getting a bit dreary.

On Thursday night I had one of those days where one little thing happens and everything in life comes crashing down on you. I sat on the couch facing my mother who rocked my niece in the rocking chair. I randomly started crying for not any particular reason which is where the picture above comes from. . . that was probably less than twenty minutes worth of tissues. My nose was having a spazz attack.
I ranted on to my mother about the woes of life and all of the people I miss. At the end I sputtered, "Mom... I'm sick of being sick!"

The next week we had planned to have solo auditions in choir... I couldn't sing for my life and began to panic. Each day of choir I crossed my fingers, hoping and almost praying we wouldn't give out all the solos. Things worked out and the solo try-outs are still being procrastinated as we speak.

Today was a day of glory and not once during the school day did I need to blow my nose. It was a miricle and I'm looking forward to the weekend.

My First Stake Dance

Lights flashed. My heart pounded to the beat of the music as I stepped into the crazily lit cultural hall. It was my first stake dance and I had no idea what to expect.

My friends and I found a place on the dance floor and started moving. "This is no place to be embarrassed," my friend urged. Soon I was jumping, tapping, and dancing more than I have in all the years of my life combined.

The music calmed and the DJ announced to get with a partner for a slow dance. Mr friend pushed me away, "Go find someone," she said with a smile.
"Wha--wh... I don't know what to do!" I turned around, took about two steps, and there he was. My first dance. Our eyes locked and we both came together.
"What's your name?" he asked as we positioned, his hand placed on my waist and mine on his shoulder.
We joined hands, "Tessa. What's yours?"
"Colton," he answered and began to ask me more questions. I did the same and we briefly got to know each other. The song ended and I thanked him, beaming.

I found my friends again and we all shared our experiences with our dance partners. After every slow song there were a bunch of more upbeat songs where we'd have a party and watch some guys break dancing.
After a while there were more slow dances and I danced with two more boys, getting into the routine of talking to them while we were dancing.

When the fourth slow dance started my friend shoved me into a very unexpected partner. Someone who I had known since second grade, who had the same birthday as me, and who was about a foot shorter than me. The conversation was awkward and he answered everything with "Yeah." In the middle of the song the DJ announced to quickly grab a new partner who was next to you. My new partner was the complete opposite-- I had never met him before, he was three years older than me, and probably a foot and a half taller than me. It was quite the transition, but my new partner provided for a much more interesting conversation.

My friends and I hung out until 11:00 when the dance ended and we all went home.
When I walked into the house, my legs ached and my heart still beat steadily to an imaginary song. I soon crawled into bed, still smiling, and impatient to do it all again.

"Flirting" at Stake Conference

I stood on the balcony of the American Fork Tabernacle for stake conference, studying the crowd.

"I know her, and her, and him, and her..." My little neighbor stood beside me, pointing out all of the people she knew. My eyes followed her finger, and almost skimmed over someone I hadn't seen since last May--Riley. Riley had been my buddy ever since elementary school, but transfered at the end of last year to a charter school.

I swear I almost choked on my spit when I first saw him. It hadn't even occured to me he would be there. I practically tumbled down the stairs, speed walked down the aisle, and sat down right next to him. "Riley!"
He smiled back, "At first I didn't recognize you."
His voice was so much deeper! "Well, time sure changes people," I remarked with a nod.

We continued to talk for about half an hour. I didn't want it to end, knowing I wouldn't see him for months afterward. He's always been shy but really seemed to open up to me. We laughed and exchanged stories about school until Braden signaled for me. "I better go," I frowned as I stood up.
He beamed at me with a warm goodbye and I took one last look at him before trotting up the stairs.

I sat down with my family. My dad turned to me, "We just wanted to know where you were, you still have five minutes to flirt with that boy."
I chuckled at the thought. "Naw, I'm pretty sure I wasn't flirting with him." I then told my mother all about my conversation with Riley, and you could tell she was half ignoring me. I opened up my notebook and wrote down the experience, complete with illustrations.

I'm actually kind of excited for next stake conference...

Daddy's Girl

Trying to Cry

The past weeks have been crazy.

The beginning of January was better than ever. Everything fell into place, but everything took a sudden turn in the middle of the month.

Something was stuck. I wasn't even sure what it was, but it was there. I just needed to cry.

For days there were no tears, no red cheeks, but just that sick and empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I tried everything. I looked through my old journal entries about my former love, layed on my bed and stared up at the ceiling for a while, and even watched the movie "Charly" about four times. (For those of you who haven't seen it, it makes me cry every time I watch it.) Nothing worked.

Finally after a week of that feeling I watched "Marley and Me" Sunday morning. Let me tell you, I cried my eyes out. Not just wet eyes, but full on tears all over the place. You'd think I'd be sad after watching such a depressing movie, but I felt great! Relieved from what I carried throughout the entire week, I walked tall for the next few days.

But the rollercoaster dipped back down and today was not ideal. I failed my Geometry assignment because I didn't show my work, I was dead tired, and my Science teacher totally chewed me out for bringing my packet home to finish something I thought was due today.

I got home and decided to take some pictures in the backyard to relieve some stress.

I really miss that dog.

I just keep telling myself how wonderful the weekend is going to be... It's all going to be okay. And it's true. Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end. Now I'm just trying to take this week one step at a time.

A Million Thanks

I discovered my in last post that people read my blog I didn't even know knew my blog exsisted. But I guess you learn something new every day, right?

Thanks guys(:

So one boring evening Braden and I were drawing pictures on my whiteboard and he decided to draw a lovely portrait of me. Here's what he drew.

Glasses? I'm not even sure. But my teeth are really acurate, right down to my crooked jaw.

Well after a few minutes I decided to re-draw my self-portrait.

It turned out pretty inspiring.

(And to any of you who are concerned about my drawing skills, I drew it like that on purpose.)

And that's pretty much what a I looked like today, except with my hair pulled back in a high ponytail. And for some reason I got to school and was showered with compliments. I wondered, Why in the world am I getting the more compliments on an ugly day than when I take forever to look nice?

Then I thought about something.

And I realized that those comments from my amazing friends came on just the day I needed them, a day I was feeling down and insecure. I'm so grateful for those people who are always there to lift me up.

Once again... Thanks guys.(:

Slacker

I've been slacking off on the blogging world lately.

I'm also pretty sure the only one who reads it is my mom.

And I tell her everything as it is.

So here I am... updating it for the sake of my mother and the mouse in her pocket just in case they get terribly, deathly bored and need a pathetic blog post to rest their eyes upon.

And if anyone else happens to be reading this... please comment.

I need encouragement to know someone's listening.

Strength

Everyone has different ideas on strength. Maybe strength is lifting one hundred pound weights, going to work every day, or maybe even just letting go of your past.

Strength is not a set standard, and is not defined by the opinions of others. True strength, I believe, is doing what you know is right even when it's painful or hard. Strength is pushing yourself to do something you never thought you could do. It's loving your enemies, smiling when you need to cry, and pushing past human nature to be the best you can be.

I'm not going to tell you exactly what strength is. After all, for everyone it's different. But when the situation comes, strength is there. We just have to learn to be strong.

An Odd Start to a New Year

"What are you doing for New Years?"
I thought about this. "I don't know," I replied. What am I doing for New Years? I wondered to myself. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but apparently the world had plans for me I didn't even know about.

The adventure started at the Texas Roadhouse restaurant. We called before hand and had an assigned time of 6:00. When we actually arrived, the crowd told a different story. It turned out we had to wait about forty five minutes before we actually got a seat. During that time my mom held me uncomfortably close to her so I wouldn't be run over by a stampede of hungry people. That part was painful, but once we ate the food we felt it was worth it.

On the way home from the restaurant I was dropped off at my friend's house. Within the first half hour I was there my her little sister ran off with my camera and wouldn't give it back. When I finally got it back I refused to give it to her so she followed me around with Bambi eyes trying to snatch it from my pocket.

We listened to music and goofed of the rest of the evening. When it was almost midnight we turned on the T.V. to see the ball drop. By the time we got to the channel it was over and we all awkwardly looked around at each other for a moment before I said quietly, "Uhh well, happy new year...!" My friend and I hugged and jokingly congradulated each other on surviving another year.
I heard another voice, "Can I have a hug, Tessa?" I looked down at my friend's brother (one year younger than me) sitting slumped in a chair below me.
"I guess, but it's a little hard when you're sitting in a chair." He stood up immediately and held his arms out. I briefly hugged him and was pulling away but he didn't let go. The level of awkwardness skyrocketed. I finally managed to pry away from him without being rude. He smiled shyly as his father entered the room with the rest of the family.

We all gathered in the kitchen and toasted to the new year with our sparkling apple juice. At 12:30 my friend and I both went to my house for a sleepover. We then stayed up until 2:00 in the morning talking.

I woke up in the morning with a terrible feeling. I realized I didn't know where my camera was. I had brought my old one to the party in case anything happened to it, and the last time I had held my new camera was in the office uploading pictures to the computer. It HAD to be in the house.

I was back on the search. I cleaned every room I walked into, organizing and looking through every little nook and cranny from the bathroom counter to the corner behind the door. I never found it. Is this really happened all over again??? I thought with furrowed eyebrows. After searching for hours I stood in my kitchen for a moment about to either burst out crying or hit something. But I simply stood there, and after taking a break from my search calmed down and attempted to enjoy the rest of my day.

Happy 2011 everyone!