Archive | March, 2011

Hubba Hubba!

30 Mar

Dear World,

I think my favorite thing to do is flirt with Evan Moss. I’m telling you…it’s just really fun.

My other favorite thing is when I look especially cute (which, to Evan is everything from sweats and t-shirt with no make-up to dolled up for a dance or something after spending hours getting ready), or do especially well on a test, or say something like “Today I woke up on time for class!” and he says

Hubba Hubba!!!!

Yeah, I like that a lot.

I also like to kiss him. Hubba hubba, right?

Sincerely, Annette

 

*This blog post brought to you in part by complete and total boredom induced by studying for my Chronic Disease class*

“Where I come from”

22 Mar

Lizbef,

We have this never ending argument, as I am sure you are aware, about how awesome/not awesome poetry is.  In high school, the poetry unit of English made me want to punch baby dolphins.  It made you want to frolic in fields of daises…and write poems about it.  And you know from our conversations that I don’t ENTIRELY hate poetry.  I actually really love Keats*(A thing of beauty is a joy forever, anyone?).  But, I don’t see myself chillin in my free time crying over poetry for hours. It is just not my thing. Give me paintings. Give me classic literature.  Give me beautiful cinematography.  Give me a wonderful stage production.  Give me breathtaking singing.  But, usually, I would prefer for poetry to keep to itself.

HOWEVER, I would say that the following poem is my all time favorite.  I may be biased…because I know the author. I met the author when she was like…3 hours old. And I talked to her fetus for months before I actually saw and held her. So…we go way back. But, I think this poem is brilliant and I think my sister is a talented genius. And with that, I invite you to read on…

 

I am from everywhere
But mainly I am from home
Where my sisters come for Christmas
And where I find peace
I am from moving
And leaving my friends
To find new ones
Even though it’s hard
I am from family
No matter where we are
Where we all eat pancakes on Saturday
No matter what happens
I am from old musicals
And my mom’s strange sayings
Because she’s “not an octopus”
And I am “cold as a muffin”
I am from rides home from school
That my sister Annette gave me
When she played her music so loud
We had to yell and dance and sing
I am from popcorn
And road trips
Towards Thanksgiving
At Grandmas
I am from our Barbie Christmas Tree
And matching pajamas
While we eat eggrolls On Christmas Eve
I am from love
And being close to my family
And persevering through every hardship
With them at my side

Natalie Harris–when she was in 6th gade

 

Double Date!

She is so beautiful and grown up these days!

Yeah, I love her a lot.

*did that Keats poem make you swoon? Yeah…I understand. You should really check this movie out. Bring tissues.

Burn Baby Burn

21 Mar

Dear Planner,

 

I start to hyperventilate every time I look at you.  You are freaking me out man. I am only one little person.  I can not do all those things.

Please don’t take away my sleep.  Because,  I just don’t work right.  I got MUCH less than my usual amount last night, and I am experiencing the strangest side-effects today. Namely, eating everything in sight.  EVERYTHING. 7 cookies worth of cookie dough. The rest of Mart’s taco stuff. A PB and J. A peach smoothie. Cereal. Stroganoff. Corn bread. Shamrock twists. AND STILL I AM HUNGRY!

I am laughing at things that are not funny. Like when Susan Easton Black said, “Willford Woodruff spent 2.5 years as apostolic president” and I laughed really loud! Like…what the?

I caught myself talking to myself, pretty loudly while walking through Brigham Square.  I did have headphones in, maybe people thought I was talking on one of those headset things like some people do ya know? But…they probably didn’t think that because I was wimpering things like “How could you let yourself get so far behind? There ain’t no way you are gonna survive this.”

What I am saying in a nut shell dear planner is…I think I am cracking under this end of semester pressure.  I am not going to make it to the end. And you just sit there so calmly on my desk taunting me your endless to-do lists.

 

I think I will burn you after finals week. I’m sorry…but I just want to really bad. I don’t like you very much.

 

Sincerely,

Annette

Once again

14 Mar

Dear Annette,

I once again have another story where my unfailing tendency to make poor life decisions is the central focus of the plot.

Today, Audra, Liz, and I embarked on the disgusting task of spring cleaning. We cleaned out the whole fridge, all of the previously mouse-infested cabinets (meaning, LOTS of poop), the floors, the appliances, the sink, the clutter that never ever seems to leave, went through all of the mail, and put so much stuff into more organized areas. It took basically all day to do the kitchen – old beer and rotten food juice coated everything. It was sick.

Anyways, Audra was not the happiest camper, as she does so much cleaning. And me, per usual, wanted to try to lighten up the atmosphere just a little. So, I grabbed some junk mail off of the table and said, “This is what should happen to any clutter left in here for more than 12 hours!” Because sometimes, we can go for weeks before roommates actually move the things that belong in their rooms from the kitchen table. I grabbed one of the boxes of matches that we found and went outside, so Audra could see me from the back window. I then proceeded to light the mail on fire after a few tries, because it was really windy.

Audra was cracking up, and before I realized it, the fire got really intense because of the wind. I panicked upon seeing it rapidly expand right towards my hand and tried to throw it on the ground.

Best.

Idea.

Ever.

The wind just blew the flaming paper right back at me, behind my head, and burnt the ends of the back of my hair. I freaked, screamed, batted it out, stood in shock for a good thirty seconds, threw the matchbox on the ground, and stomped back inside.

I asked Audra if she saw what happened, and she said no, but she could smell my burnt hair from outside.

Here’s to my ability to be a real winner sometimes,

Elisabeth

Discussion time

13 Mar

Dear Annette,

Now, I know I already told you this story, but I thought it deserved retelling. Remember – it’s all in the delivery. This story will be even better than the first time I told you about it.

I remembered this delightful tale today on my walk (9 miles say what!), when person in question texted me up and asked if I needed a ride to church. I said I had to be there early for another new member discussion (they seem to never end. Ever.), so I was getting a ride elsewhere. He said good! He had to study anyways.

Anyways, this was the same fellow that I had one of my discussions with. I think I kind of irked this guy – I literally took every pause as an open invitation to ask a barrage of questions. I like to know things, ok? I would ask really open questions (So, 12 year olds are ordained into the Aaronic Priesthood and stuff; does that mean that 12 year olds can baptize people?) and he would give me not specific answers (No.) and then I would ask more questions (Well, when can they?) and he would answer (When they are bishops.) and then I would supply more questions (When does that happen??), to which he would supply even better answers (After they are priests.) And then, after we both felt like we were hitting our heads against wooden boards, we would both finally come to a happy medium (Me: So, explain this again, because I feel like…Him: Gah! Listen! This is how the Aaronic Priesthood is organized (insert explanation). Happy? Me: Oh yeah! That makes sense!) Except, I think I portrayed him as a little too impatient.

We had a similar exchange over John 14:15.

Guy: So, Elisabeth, why do you think it is important to keep the commandments?

Me: Well, we are proving our obedience to God when we do. It shows that we are down with following His will – we are totally invested in His plan to return back to him.

Guy: Right! Another explanation is in John 14:15. It’s a really powerful; that’s why it’s a scripture mastery verse.

Me: Wait. What’s scripture mastery?

Guy: It’s a way to master the scriptures.

Me: Like, all of them?

Guy: No.

(awkward pause. I thought he was going to say something else, but I was sorely mistaken)

Me: So, which ones?

Guy: Only the ones that are specifically for scripture mastery.

Me: Well, how do I know which ones are specifically for scripture mastery?

Guy: You mean you don’t know? You should be mastering them.

Me: What! Is there a list or something? I need to jump on this.

Guy: I don’t have a list. I just know.

Me, realizing this avenue of discussion was not going anywhere: Oh. Well. Ok. I’ll just read the scriptures. A lot.

Guy: That’s a good idea!

Me: Enough to master the mastery ones. Whichever ones those are.

Guy: Right! You can do it!

Upon investigation, I found that there is a list of which scriptures should be mastered at ldsscripturemastery.net. Imagine that! I mean, people are not just born with the innate knowledge of this kinda thing.

Thanks for listening to me in my moments of equal parts irritation and bemusement.

Catch you on the flipside, Dope Ice!

Elisabeth

15 minutes to spare=blog post

10 Mar

Post snow cone

Dear Elisabeth,

 

Thanks for making me laugh. All the time. And making me feel better, with stories about how everything is worse when it happens during swim season.  I like our inside jokes. Like, San Francisco, and now we have memories of dear Pedro. 🙂

Miss you man.

–Annette

P.S. I put WAY too much hot sauce on my burrito just now. Yowzer.

20 miles down!

4 Mar

Dear Annette,

Back when we started this blog, I wrote a post describing my friendship with you. It was about the 1928 Bunion Derby, and the relationship between Andy Payne and John Salo, and how those two intrepid runners relied on each other to survive a race that spanned 3, 422 miles. It was about how much your are always there for me, mile for mile, no matter how busy you are, and no matter how crazy life is. It was a tribute to how lucky I am to have you as my best friend.

Well today, I have another historic running tale for you. Have you ever heard of John Landy? He was this radical miler from Australia, and one of my personal athletic heroes. One of his biggest athletic achievements was being the second guy to break a 4 minute mile, after Roger Bannister, in 1954. However, to me, this guy is most significant for what he did 2 years later, in 1956. In 1956, during the Australian National Games, John was racing the 1500. The race acted as a qualifier for the Melbourne Summer Olympic Games, so his placing and time were pivotal during this particular race. The 1500 is like the Olympic version of the mile – it’s only 3 and 3/4’s laps long. Ok, here comes the good part. During the race, John wasn’t leading. It was this other guy, a younger, but equally talented runner named Ron Clarke. In the third lap of a race that is only 3.75 laps long, another runner tripped Ron, sending him to the ground. John had to jump over him so he didn’t fall too, but after that, he turned around and helped Ron to his feet. Together, they kept running. John made up the incredible deficit and was able to win the race and then go on to compete in the Olympics. This incredible event is one of the most famous moments in track and field history. It epitomizes sportsmanship and valor. I think we can all deem John Landy a rad kind of guy.

My dear best friend, you are just like John Landy. Ok, you might never run a 3:57 mile (who knows, your mad skills surprise me every day), but you have all of the sterling qualities that make up that story. Over the course of our friendship, I have seen your tremendous passion to live a meaningful life grow and thrive. You keep your eyes on the prize, but you never lose sight of the little things that matter most. You just give and give and give and give, and when you give it all, you find some other way to benefit the lives of everyone around you. Knowing you has been like watching John Landy stop and help Ron Clarke every single day.

And now, you’re twenty. In twenty years, look at all of the things that you’ve done! You survived 3 different high schools, no big deal. You had classes with THE B. French, and didn’t lose your mind (No hard feelings, Bobby – we just never got over your whole 15th birthday incident). You learned 2 different sports and were the most baller track manager FHS has ever seen. You destroy your classes everyday, even if you don’t think you do. You rise to the top of any club, are going to freaking Tanzania for a summer, and are rocking a fellowship in DC. Like, are you an android? You score the best jobs, build the best friendships, and set yourself up for the most beautiful, most humanitarian, most fulfilling future you possible can. And you are so impressively modest. Almost too modest. I want to hear about all of your achievements, because I love celebrating them with you – shout ’em out!

In the six years that we’ve known each other, look at all of the things that you’ve done, giving me more joy and peace than I could ever deserve. You provide me with endless things to ponder, so many conversations that just make me think about life and all of the things in it. You keep me sane whenever a speedbump causes me to crash and burn, because I was probably going like three times the speed limit, and I was drag racing, and then I ran a stop sign, and then I hit the speedbump. Because you know that’s how I drive. You provide an example for true selfless living, for forgiveness and integrity, and keeping a level and solid head. You may not take credit for leading me to the true church and basically, the best thing out there, but you sure were a critical part – answering my crazy questions, encouraging me when I felt like quitting, listening to me late at night while I drove home in a complete panic of the crying/high-pitched lamenting variety. So thank you. Eternally. There is literally no way I could possible pay you back – maybe I’ll promise to always be your family veterinarian for free, for when you have at least one dog, because one of these days, I will finally convince you that dogs are great family members.

So that is just 20 years. It just begs the question for what will happen in the next 20 or 30 or 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 years from now. My prediction? You will be married, have a ton of kids (who will just beg for a ton of dogs after they play with mine), bring about world peace in one fell swoop, be elected president (no really – I want to see Evan as the first First Husband), get your pilot’s license, spend a year in an ashram, learn another language, write books, not just one, have an expansive and diverse vegetable garden, move to a temperate climate (do you like Texas? I’m definitely moving there for vet school, because I don’t want to have a winter anymore), pick up the piano again (literally, pick it up, World’s Strongest Woman status) and be a total genius and release a CD – and all of that is just the beginning of the list.

Your race has just started, Annette. And I know that over the course of it, you will never cease to amaze and wow the crowd. Even though, the crowd is not what matters. It’s all about the stuff that’s in your beautiful heart. Because of your tenacious ability to love and never quit, I know that your race is going to be one as memorable as that one particular 1500 meter dash in Australia, in 1956.

Honored to cheer for you,

Elisabeth

 

The 10th anniversary of my 10th birthday

3 Mar

Goodbye teenage years.

You have been full of a lot of different places, people, hobbies, wardrobe changes, haircuts/colors, boys,  and a couple good/not so good cars.

I think I learned what I was supposed to learn from you, and I hope it doesn’t make you feel bad, but I am happy to move on to the wild world of being a twenty-something.

 

See ya!

well…actually I won’t….

Annette

A call for personal censorship

2 Mar

Dear bloggers, facebookers, tweeters, etc.

 

I have heard people lament about how all these new modes of communication are creating a new culture of “it is ok to be rude to/about people because the interaction is not face-to-face.”  I didn’t really believe it.  People couldn’t possibly be as rude as the stories  I heard! No way! These are friends and family! Surely social networking sites would not allow such unkindness to be acceptable.

 

Well, I suppose I was just being too optimistic. Because I just experienced my first burn.  It was a burn that would have been entirely inappropriate if it just happened in regular conversation.  People would have gasped.  The accuser probably feels no guilt for the little blurb in question. You can say anything you want as long as you put a smiley face emoticon at the end, right? You could  even throw in a couple “ha ha’s”. It’s all good.  It wasn’t even directed to me by name.  But I knew, and this person knew.

 

That is the strange thing about this new phenomenon I think.  The hurt is only one sided.  This person did not see my face as I sat at my computer reading their bold and unashamed words.  They didn’t see my rage turn into sadness.  So here I am feeling hurt and offended, while they did nothing but share their “true feelings” for everyone to see. It is their first amendment right.  They did nothing wrong, right?

 

No.  I think it is wrong.  We are losing a sense of personal responsibility and decency.  I am, for the first time, concerned about negative impacts of this new technology. The internet is not private, even though it is easy to think it is.  It is not a place to vent about politics, religion, or the things that drive you crazy about so-and-so, in hurtful and judgmental ways.  People are going to read it.  And they will know you wrote it.  And you won’t see their hurt, so you will just do it again and again.

 

May we all be able to look up from our keyboards and cell phones and notice the actual, real people around us.  I hope I never have or ever will become as disconnected from people’s feelings.  Words on a screen are a lot easier to deal with than tears on a cheek.  I don’t want to be ignorant of any feelings I hurt.

Sincerely (and I really am sincere.  You may not be able to tell just from this short text)

Annette