Camilla the Gorilla

I Made Me a Shirt.

2012-01-14T08:48:00.000-08:00

So, I came across this blog post for a DIY Christmas sweater a week or two ago, and have been dying to try making my own version ever since. Check it out:

I started with a plain tee-shirt, and I chose a graphic online to put on the shirt (this was the most time-consuming part--did I want a whale, a tree with heart leaves, or a bike? I ended up with none of those things.) I used parchment paper to make the stencil of the graphic, and layed it out on the shirt.

I used sparkly silver fabric paint to fill in the stencil.

And added some heart raindrops.

Voila!

a fire alarm fiasco, and other unrelated updates

2011-12-16T05:02:00.000-08:00

Our fire alarm malfunctioned yesterday, at 5 in the morning. Actually, I think maybe it just needed new batteries. Unfortunately, neither my roommate nor I had an extra 9 volt battery on hand, and the alarm continued to shriek at me even after I took the old battery out. After fiddling with the thing for a good 20 minutes AND calling the "emergency" maintenance number (they have a lightning-fast turn-around rate of about 24 hours...I guess if there's ever a "real" emergency we'll call 911), and just as I had grabbed my keys and mumbled, "Well, I guess I could go to the store and get a battery," my roommate decided she had had it. "Maybe I should just rip it off the wall!" she said, and before I knew it, she had done just that. I stood paralyzed for the next few seconds as she marched straight out the door and threw the still-chirping alarm off the balcony. Probably just as well--I'm pretty sure the thing was possessed.

School is ending for the semester. I finished classes and finals last week, and have spent this week trying to feel okay about leaving clients for 2 weeks so I can go home for Christmas. Today is my paperwork catch-up day. Hooray!! (Not.)

I am reading an awesome book about the Sabbath by Senator Joe Leiberman. It is so interesting. He is Jewish, and I'm learning a lot about their Sabbath rituals. I have found it to be very applicable as it's gotten me thinking about how I can enhance my own Sabbath observance.

I made the best smoothie yesterday, and again today. I bought frozen cherries (the sweet kind) at the store. I blended those, a banana, soy milk, some ground flax seed, and some ice and YUM! I am in LOVE!

Tuesday is the big day--travel day. I can't wait. Chad and I are both flying out on Tuesday (he'll leave from Louisville, and I'll leave from Atlanta). We'll meet up in Houston, where we have a 3 hour layover. The great part is, his sister lives in Houston, so I think we're gonna meet up with her. For once, I'm excited about having a longish layover! Ah, and then we fly to Grand Junction. I can't wait to be home for Christmas. I've been dreaming about it non-stop for the past oh...month. At least.

Oh, one more update. I went to visit my friend Lauren this last weekend in Decatur, AL. We had so much fun. I'm gonna post a link to my favorite song I heard at the concert we went to. Happy December, and hope your Christmas is wonderful, wherever you are.

Duet (feat. Ray LaMontagne) by Rachael Yamagata on Grooveshark

A braggy post about my life.

2011-10-13T14:19:00.000-07:00

So, sometimes a blog seems like a good place to brag about how great your life is. I mean, if people don't want to read it, they don't have to, right? (Whereas I could seriously annoy people if I did all my bragging face to face).

This weekend I went to Louisville, KY for a visit. Some of the highlights included:

playing lots and lots of tennis

seeing Blind Pilot and Brett Dennen in concert

experiencing bits of Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky in the fall

and mostly, just being with one of my favorite people. This man makes me soooo happy.

Oh, and tickets from Birmingham to Louisville are only $29 each way on Southwest. Have you ever heard of such a thing? AND I met the lead singer of Blind Pilot. How is life so good?!

Triathlon 2011

2011-07-27T15:44:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe Triathlon 2011 is now over! There were definitely some ups and downs, but overall it was an incredible experience. I am the third of my friends to blog about it, so I worry it'll be hard to find a new angle. But here goes:

Last Friday Esperanza, Alisa and I set out for Sarasota, FL. It was an 8-hour-turned-9-hour-because-there-was-lots-of-crazy-jungle-rain drive. On the way there, we passed a town called Camilla, GA. Can you believe that?! Camilla! (I just looked it up, and apparently their annual Gnat Days festival is fantastic. You read that right...gnat days).

Anyway, due to some lack of planning and inability to leave on time (I know...weird!) we missed the pre-race clinic on Friday morning. But we got to take a glance at the course, and the beach was utterly breathtaking. Definitely the best beach I've ever seen outside of the Caribbean. (sigh...)

We stayed at an awesome hotel because my roommate, Alisa, knows a guy. Actually she works at a Hampton, so she gets a great deal. That was awesome.

Saturday morning, due to more lack of planning and inability to leave on time (I know...weird!), we arrived so late we risked missing packet pickup (and thus, our race). I don't remember the last time I felt the urge to wet my pants so strongly. But...I didn't. And the triathlon worker people, who had just shut the registration table down, begrudgingly gave us our swim caps and told us to get our bikes in the transition station. My wave was supposed to begin at 7:08, in just a few minutes.

Because I was running around so frantically trying to pick up my packet late and set up my bike and not pee my pants (oh, and I ran down to the waterside with my paper number safety-pinned to my front before realizing I shouldn't swim with that on, and had to run BACK to the transition station and BACK to the starting line), I forgot my goggles up in the transition station (a little jog away from the starting point for the swim). And since I had just arrived breathless at the starting point, and there were only 1 or 2 minutes to go before race time, I decided I'd just have to suck it up and go without goggles. Which I did. And yes, it burned. Salt water. By the end of the 1 mile swim, I couldn't see much. But I did it! Yay.

Okay, but aside from my being a jumbled bunch of nerves and adrenaline and hyperventilation at the beginning, the race was WONDERFUL. The swim was great. The bike was great. The run was great. I loved the bike portion because it was totally flat and easy and I just flew. The run was hard-packed sand next to the ocean, and it was beautiful. It was just starting to get hot as I ran. I had a serious goal to run and not walk for the entire run portion. When it got hard, I remembered how I used to feel as a little kid forcing myself to run the entire Pioneer Day 5K in Grand Junction, and I decided I could keep going. And then when it got harder, I decided I would be everyone's personal cheerleader. So when I passed people going the other direction, I would tell them good job. (I don't know if I helped anyone, but I DO remember last year at the Scofield Tri when some family in a van decided to make me their little cheer project and they kept following me down the road and yelling at me to keep going--that was awesome, if a little weird).

Anyway, perhaps the best accomplishment of all is that I swiped a gargantuan 43 minutes off last year's time! I finished in 3 hrs 12 minutes. I swam my mile in 40:39, biked the 40k in 1 hr. 24 min, and ran the 10k in an hour and 17 seconds. I am really proud of how much I've improved, even if I'm still pretty slow compared to a lot of people.

The time spent with Alisa and Esperanza was really wonderful. We ate at an amazing Thai restaurant, lounged around and slept in the hotel, and were basically on top of the world after our feat. I'm so proud of both of them, too! It was their first tri and they both made their time goals. It's satisfying to get a couple more people hooked on one of the best sports ever.

It's kind of a let-down that the tri is over now. I so looked forward to it, and so enjoyed the training and race experience. Can't wait to do another one!

You too can style your hair at home!!

2011-07-15T21:50:00.001-07:00

For a fraction of the price. But, you better have a friend/roommate like mine: she's a saint.

Fortunately, for her first time, Esperanza showed amazing skills taming the wild mane. Question: do I have some African heritage that I was never made aware of? Honestly. Where did this hair come from?

Thanks, Espy.

Sunday afternoon craft.

2011-07-10T20:35:00.000-07:00

Used: 1 old antique-y frame
3 plastic lemons
hot glue
a slab of cardboard I ripped out of a box (to paint)
blue and yellow acrylic paint
paintbrushes
paper towel for making spongy yellow splotches
scrapbook marker for outlining letters

Fun! I used to always want a fruit house when I was younger (if you steal my idea, I'm gonna be soooo mad). Anyway, each room in my fruit house was gonna be themed around a different kind of fruit. I kind of envisioned a big stenciled "When life gives you lemons..." statement in the kitchen, and a yellow/lemon theme for the rest of the room. Another room would house all the Strawberry Shortcake collectibles I've amassed over the years. And so on. Anyway, this little project today was sort of like living a little piece of the dream. Happy Sunday! :)

I can't stop watching this.

2011-07-09T13:37:00.000-07:00

I saw this video on a friend's blog a couple months ago and I haven't been able to stop watching it. First of all, I love Ingrid. Second of all, are these two not the cutest couple ever? And lastly, I think these lyrics are so sweet and simple and precious. In conclusion, you should watch the video.

Blueberries!!

2011-07-02T08:46:00.000-07:00

Went on a special outing this morning with Shauna and Esperanza to pick blueberries. $5 for a gallon seemed like a steal I couldn't pass up. However, an hour and a half of picking in the hot sun gave new insight into why I generally pay $3 for a handful of blueberries at the store.

It was kind of tedious, but definitely satisfying. Now I have tons and tons of blueberries!

I can't wait to figure out what to do with them. I'm thinking I'll freeze a bunch for smoothies and pancakes and stuff, and maybe try and can some?

I've been dreaming of making a blueberry/lemon pie, but I don't really know if such a thing exists. We'll see. Any other ideas? Please share.

Life is so good.

2011-07-01T08:01:00.001-07:00

Just wanted to share that I am really, really happy right now. Sometimes really great things happen to me and I think, "Wow, I really wasn't expecting that to happen." After all the good things that have happened in my life, I should really just be expecting it by now. I think that's part of what faith is--believing that something good will happen. I'm just really grateful, that's all. :)

Progress towards tri goals.

2011-06-21T18:09:00.000-07:00

Yay! Only a month to go til the triathlon. I had a super duper training day today.

Biked 26.some miles in app. 1 hr. 22 minutes
Ran app. 5.78 miles in app. 58 min.

I think I'm going to adjust my goal slightly--I believe I said I wanted to get under 3 hours. Right now, with my fastest 1 mile swim time at app. 40 min plus the run/bike times above, AND leaving a few minutes for transitions, I think I will settle for a goal of 3 hrs. 15 min. I'll still be slicing a ridiculous chunk off last year's time. YAY!! (Oh, and my transition time today between bike and run was about 4 minutes.)

To take a line from Rebecca what's-her-name Friday-lover lady, "We we we so excited."

Fixin' up the ol' bedroom

2011-06-11T19:12:00.001-07:00

I revamped my room today and I'm really likin' it.

These boxes got covered in paper and hung from the ceiling to store headbands/hairclips/bobbypins/deoderant/whatever other random junk was littering my vanity.

Trinkets! I filled the vase and pottery with old tissue paper.

Vintage Valentines got mini-clothes-pinned up above my closet doors.

Precious, right?

I hung my Aruba license plate over my favorite Aruba painting.

A smattering of my favorite island pictures (which I took, btw) got stuck on the little window shutters. I think I might paint the window shutters a different color sometime.

And finally, these little salt and pepper shakers were too cute for me to pass up at the antique place. Not really normal bedroom decor, but whatever.

Hope you're having a lovely weekend.

News Flash: I love the post office

2011-06-06T15:23:00.001-07:00

No, there is not a trace of sarcasm in that title. I really do, if for just a day, LOVE the post office.

Normally, I hate the post office. I feel like the employees are often slothful and apathetic, as if deliberately trying to drive me mad. (It doesn't help any that I don't generally designate adequate time to get in and get out. Generally, I manage to forget the slothful and apathetic way in which my visit will undoubtedly be received, and then, inevitably, I am forced to painfully remember as I wait there in line for who-knows-what to get done so I can hand over my package and some money and be done with it.)

Today was different. Let me be clear--the employees seemed lethargic as usual, a state likely aggrandized by the fact that closing time was only a few ticks away. However, once to the counter, I had a much better experience than I had anticipated.

Allow me to backtrack: I was coming from the apartment manager's office, where I had been patronized by a woman in a twangy, condescending tone, "Don't you remember, sweetie? When you were here to sign the lease we told y'all that you'd have to go pick it up from the post office." (Actually, the same woman had instructed us to come back on Monday to get it from her, which is precisely what I was trying to do. Another roommate, also present for the original exchange, had tried to do the same thing but 20 minutes before, unbeknown to me.)

Allow me to backtrack even further: We misplaced our mail key last week. I called and left a message at our apartment manager's office on Memorial Day, asking what we would need to do if we lost our mail key (uh, hypothetically, of course). Our lovely management promptly called the post office and ordered a new mail key and informed us it would cost $15, although in the interim between my leaving a message and speaking with the management again, we had found the original mail key. But, too late. They'd ordered a new one, and it was too late to cancel, as they discovered in calling the post office.

So we're done backtracking. There I was, at the post office today, 5 minutes before closing time, there to pick up a key I didn't really want but desperately needed because our mail lock had been changed. And I was gonna have to pay for it. The man went to look for the mail key. He brought not one, but three mail keys, which means one key for each of my roommates and myself, instead of one clumsily-passed baton that gets dropped and/or forgotten to be hung on the hook in our kitchen. When he brought out the keys, he said, "Has this already been paid for?"

"Uh, no. I don't know. Does it look like it has been?" I said.

"Uh...not really. Yeah. Uh...I'm just gonna give these to you."

I signed off on the deal, and he asked to verify my ID. "Have you ever watched CSI Miami?" he asked, alternately studying my face and then the picture gleaming up from my license. "You look exactly like that girl, Poppi Monroe. The girl on that show." I hadn't seen the show, and I didn't know who she was, but I figured it was flattering to have someone think you look like a movie star. I came home and googled her and decided it was, indeed, a compliment.

So, in summary, I walked away with three times the amount of product for infinitely less price than I expected, and I looked like a movie star while doing it. Boo-yeah.

Birthday weekend.

2011-05-29T14:22:00.000-07:00

It was my birthday on Friday. The branch went kayaking at Coosa River in Wetumpka, AL. Here's right before I jumped off a cliff into the river...

My roommates and friends from school and church came over and we made pizzas. Becca Z (from church) made the dough and Esperanza (roommie) got the toppings. Oh, and we also had awesome cake that Esperanza made. Sweet, sweet friends.

Yummm.

I tried to make a cat pizza, because back in 3rd grade when we made individual pizzas for my birthday party, I remember I tried to make a cat. Mine's the one in the middle. Looks like I still got it...

Here's me sporting the birthday bow Emma sent me. :)

Would've been fun to spend time with my momma, since we share our birthday. But I had a good one, just the same.

How to Have a Crawfish Boil

2011-05-21T21:43:00.000-07:00

1. Put the crawfish in a big pot of boiling water. The water must be boiling first, and the crawfish must be live until they hit the water. (This is important, I am told). Throw some cajun seasoning, potatoes, onion, sausage, and corn in there, too.

2. Throw down all the food onto a spread of newspaper. Assemble your friends and family. This is a social event--a conversation set to the soundtrack of slurping and shell-cracking. Choose your first delicacy. Hold up the crawdad with your fingers. Twist off the tail, as shown.

3. You can suck the juice out of the front half (the head--yummmm) if you've got the stomach for that sort of thing. Otherwise, peel back some of the shell surrounding the tail.

4. Pull the tail meat out of the rest of the shell.

You will have some guests who pretend not to enjoy the crawfish. Don't worry--this is normal. When they've got a mound of discarded shells the size of their head, it is safe to say they like the crawfish.

Delight.

Appetizing, no?

The second batch was a lot redder than the first. I guess that happens when your propane burner is working better and your water gets hotter and the crawfish get cooked better.

My sister is a rock star!

2011-05-14T08:54:00.001-07:00

Huge Math Victory Leads to Free Frozen Yogurt

2011-05-03T12:34:00.000-07:00

That's right, folks. Today's big story is one of triumph: it's about a girl who thought she was really bad at math her whole life just to find out, in one high-stakes, telling moment, that she's actually pretty stinkin' awesome at it.

Our heroine was out for a night on the town to celebrate the brightening light at the end of the tunnel known as "a semester of graduate school." She entered her favorite frozen yogurt joint, prepared to blissfully surrender 45 cents per ounce of the glorious substance. A sign caught her eye, which read, "Smoothies: Fill a cup 2/3 full with yogurt of your choice, and we will add juice of your choice and blend." Intrigued, she queried a roaming employee as to available flavors of said juice, who promptly went to see what sorts were available.

Upon returning, the lass regretfully informed our heroine that there was no more juice; she added, smilingly, that our heroine could receive her yogurt for but half of the asking price. Our heroine protested, as she had already determined to buy yogurt instead of a smoothie, anyway. However, the young yogurt peddler insisted, and our heroine was happy to relent.

There are so many flavors in a yogurt establishment such as this one: peanut butter, oreo, thin mint, cheesecake, fruit sorbets and at least 10 varieties besides. However, Thin Mint was quickly settled upon and our heroine advanced to the counter to pay, after securing a most generous portion of the Thin Mint cream.

At the counter, there was another sign which caught her eye. This one read, "Guess your yogurt's weight within .10 ounce and it's free!" Our heroine (who, remember, was never very sure of her aptitude for mathematics) creased her brow, tapped her foot, and felt the pressure of a growing line of customers waiting to pay for their yogurt. "Think, think, think!" she told herself. She knew that her yogurt generally cost somewhere around $5, and she knew the cost was .45 per ounce. The math seemed simple enough, but the growing line of customers made her feel flustered and frantic. And then, in a sudden burst of division skills, she knew the answer--or at least, a pretty good one. "9.5 ounces!" she wagered, expectantly.

The attendant's eyebrows raised as she weighed the yogurt and then said, "9.32 ounces. Not bad! I was gonna give it to you for half-off anyway, so I'm gonna give it to you for free."

Dun-duh-duh-DUN!! Triumph! Thank you, GRE prep class. Not only did you help me get into graduate school, you helped me get free yogurt. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Note: Sorry for the weird writing style. As I mentioned, it is near the end of the semester, and taking longish breaks to use thesaurus.com and write ridiculous blog posts seems way more appealing than working on my final Stats memo.

Book Reviews.

2011-04-27T11:08:00.001-07:00

A few of the books I've read recently:

Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner.

This book reminded me out Outliers, although I didn't love it quite as much. Lots of interesting stats and stuff, with an econ twist. Why do real estate agents sell their own homes for significantly more than their clients' homes? How corrupt is the professional sumo wrestling industry in Japan (because it is, you know)? Does the negligible number of lives saved by car seats each year warrant the millions of dollars pumped into the baby car seat industry? What's in a name--how do parents in different socio-economic groups differ in their baby naming tendencies? Hmmmm?

Stick Figure: A Diary of My Former Self, by Lori Gottlieb.

I really enjoyed this book. The author found her actual diary documenting her anorexic, eleven-year-old self, and published it. I loved the voice--it was authentically pre-teen, yet astonishingly observant and intelligent. The story, from the girl's vantage point, wasn't a battle with anorexia--it was a battle with her family for her freedom to control her own weight through dieting. Kinda scary. But the tone is light and humorous, sort of like a real-life Ramona the Pest.

Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell.

Another great one by Malcolm G. The book is about the human mind's ability to "thin-slice" situations--take in various bits of information about a situation in just a few seconds, much of it sub-consciously, and make a decision. Lots of people have mastered the art of this practice: for example, Vic Braden is a pro tennis coach who can predict with stunning accuracy when a player is going to double fault. Something about the way the serve is executed tips him off--but the crazy thing is, he can't identify precisely what about the serve tells him it will be a fault. John Gottman, a marriage researcher (who I actually heard speak at the AAMFT Conference last September!!) can predict with like, 95% accuracy whether a couple is going to divorce, just by listening to them interact for a few minutes. There are also examples of times when people jumped to very wrong conclusions in split-second decisions, either by over-analyzing and sort of dismissing misgivings they had, or by losing the ability to reason well in a high-adrenaline situations. I really liked this one.

I started reading Eat, Pray, Love yesterday but I don't know if I can stand it. I might give it another chance, though. Any other suggestions?

Easter Surprise

2011-04-25T08:02:00.001-07:00

I had quite a lovely surprise yesterday for Easter, while taking a nice walk through town to wind down from the huge Easter feast my roommates and I hosted for several friends. I was just a little homesick/lonely, when one of my best friends from high school texted me and asked if I lived in Auburn. Apparently, she and her family were in the middle of moving from Houston to Virginia, and they were stopping here for the night! I could not have been more pleasantly surprised. I got to meet her husband and their adorable little boy, and it was so great to catch up with her after about 5 years!

Some people will just always be friends, no matter how long I go without seeing them. Of course, Heidi and I were attached at the hip for several years. We did EVERYTHING together. Some of my favorite memories include leaving notes in a secret mailbox by the church (we were in different wards), stealing cake from the teacher's lounge when we were at school for marching band practice (we were so bad!), and trying to connive our parents into taking us to the mall every Saturday. Good times.

Also, my roommate and I prepared an Easter feast--we made ham, and homemade rolls, and steamed green beans, and cheesy potatoes. We were very proud of the meal. It was so fun having some of our friends from the branch over, too.

Here's a nice, soothing, melancholy song.

2011-04-15T09:25:00.000-07:00

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Here's the link, if you're a non Google Chrome user.

2011 Triathlon Goals

2011-04-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

I came across my time from last year's triathlon. I came in at 3 hours, 55 minutes, and 49 seconds. I was actually pretty slow--the average female time was around 3:15, and I only beat a handful of people. In my sprint triathlon the year before, I came in at 2:02.

An olympic triathlon is twice the length of a sprint triathlon, so comparing my swim/bike/run times from the last two years is actually pretty helpful in identifying trends (year 1 was a sprint, year 2 was an olympic).

Year 1 Swim: 26:39
Year 2 Swim: 44:25

Year 1 Bike: 1:00:43
Year 2 Bike: 1:43:20

Year 1 Run: 29:37 (that's a 9:33 mile)
Year 2 Run: 1:16:41 (12:22 mile)

So clearly, I improved in swimming and biking from year one to year two. Most of the improvement in my bike time is probably due to the fact that I raced on a road bike the second year instead of my mountain bike. Evidently, I got a little better at swimming, too. The run, though--awful. I still remember what an awful run that was. I didn't adequately train last year, so once I finished swimming and biking, I was dead.

This year, I should be able to shave a good bit of time off. I would really love to come in under 3 hours. I know it's kind of crazy--who takes 55 minutes off their time? But I've definitely completed a 10k in around 50 minutes before, so there's 25 minutes. If I can manage to take 20 minutes off my bike and 10 minutes off my swim, I'm there. I need to train a lot crazier than I did last year, though.

Here is how I plan to reach my goals:
-I'm probably gonna have to bite the bullet and do a lot more front stroke than I do now (I've gotten by with a lot of breaststroke and only a little front stroke, but I know I'll go way faster if I can just build up the strength and endurance to front stroke). If I could freestyle the whole mile, I'm pretty sure I could take off those 10 minutes.
-I need to bike at least a couple times a week, and put in some loooong rides. Last year I neglected this aspect a little.
-I need to run more. I guess I neglected that aspect a little, too.
-I'm planning on doing a mini-tri every single week as part of my training. I did my first one on Friday. (12k bike, 1 mile run, 600 m swim)

Oh, and check out the AWESOME triathlon I get to participate in this year! July 23, 2011. I can't wait!! My roommates are both planning on doing the sprint tri and I'm so excited for them to experience their first tri. I'm so excited to swim in the ocean and bike/run on the beach. :)

Eavesdropping

2011-04-01T21:44:00.000-07:00

I wasn't really eavesdropping, because the guy was yelling pretty loud. I was sitting and watching the Auburn baseball team get slaughtered by Vanderbilt's team. A guy a few rows down was yelling some pretty piercing insults to players from the other team, in a desperate attempt to console himself over our team's hopeless condition (example: "20 hits, and you couldn't even get one!!" He screamed that to one of Vandy's players after he struck out, citing Vandy's 20 hits up to that point. The irony is that Auburn had only gotten 2 hits at that point).

But my favorite insult was this one, which seemed to come right before our team hit rock bottom, and after a string of other nasty cuts from this heckler guy. Either he was really scraping the bottom of the barrel, or he was saving his best ammunition for last: "Your football team is so bad, y'all haven't been to a bowl game in 30 years!!!"

Wow. That's how I knew I was in the South. (Well, and also because I just remembered I was.)

Lightning Storm

2011-03-28T07:36:00.001-07:00

The Civil Wars

2011-03-25T21:16:00.000-07:00

What could be cooler than sitting outside under a starry sky in Alabama?

Maybe a starry sky in Colorado.

But still, Alabama's pretty good.

'Specially when you got good friends and great live music.

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Happy Birthday, Grandpa Davis!

2011-03-21T20:22:00.000-07:00

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Today was my Grandpa Davis's birthday. He passed away in 2007 while serving as a full-time missionary with my Grandma in Greece. I still think about him a lot. It's amazing what an influence he continues to have in my life, even though he's not physically present.

Grandpa Davis made everything fun. The other day I was remembering how when I was a junior in high school, he was my seminary teacher. He taught us a bunch of silly cheers to help us remember scripture references. He also taught this one really ridiculous cheer that had no meaning, but made him laugh. He would yell, "How many red pencils does a seminary class need?" And we would all yell (or kind of groan, at 6:30 in the morning), "Five."
"How many?" he'd yell.
"Five!"
"How many?"
"Five, five, five!"

It's supposed to sound like you're yelling, "Fight, fight, fight!" kind of like in a traditional sports-type cheer. He thought it was so funny. I bet it was mostly just funny to see a bunch of lifeless and grouchy high schoolers participating in some silly chant like that.

Grandpa really was fun. He'd buy us treats if we were road-tripping, he let me steer the 4-Runner down Ragged Mountain one time when I was little (I was sitting on his lap), he took me to see Ryan Millar (ex-BYU volleyball player who played on the US Olympic team) and asked him to give me an autograph and take a picture with me. He'd stay up late playing games with us and we'd be the "Pillow Bellies" or the "Pillow Heads." He loved to play volleyball. One time our family won a volleyball tournament, and we've never quite been able to pull it off again without him on the team. BYU sports will always remind me of him, because he was the most faithful Cougar fan I've ever met.

I always felt like I had a special relationship with Grandpa--like he took a special interest in me. I wonder if he made a lot of people feel that way. Somehow I always felt like he gave me individualized attention, even when I was a kid and no one else was really paying attention to me. He could look over at me from the other end of the table, and wink, or smile, or roll his eyes and we'd have a little moment, amidst all the busy chatter by all the adults. I always knew he was aware of me.

Something that really inspires me is that somehow he always seemed to think very highly of me. He told our seminary class a story one time about how "one of our family members" was like Nephi (from the Book of Mormon), and when all the other family members were getting whiny and tired in our volleyball match (the championship one I mentioned earlier), "that person" was upbeat and got everyone excited and because of "that person", we came from behind and won the game. Then he told everyone that the person was me. I know that was definitely his spin on the story, probably because I was in the room, and he wanted to make me feel good. But it worked. He was genuine in his efforts to praise and uplift. It never felt phony, even if I sometimes felt he overestimated my good qualities. Even now, I often re-read the letter he wrote to me in the last weeks of his life. I'm amazed at what a good person he seems to have seen in me. I really hope I can live up to that.

Grandpa had his priorities in order. Family and God were both at the top. He was also plenty successful in his career as an accountant, but it didn't really seem to define him. He joined the Church while in the Navy as a young man, and shortly thereafter served as a full-time missionary for 2 years in Australia. He kept in contact with some of the people he associated with there, for his whole life. He met and married my Grandma after his mission, and they had their family. He served people and managed to always be there for his family, too. He and my Grandma served two full-time missions together--one as directors of the Church welfare program in Thailand, and another in Greece. I am so proud of the work they did.

I guess Grandpa's work really isn't done, though. His influence has been so profound here on earth, and I'm sure he's still doin' his thing on the other side.

I love you, Grandpa Davis!

Emma's Here!

2011-03-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

This week my sister Emma came to visit. Both of us have Spring Break, so it's perfect.

Here's us at the pulpit where Martin Luther King, Jr. used to preach:

Here's us at a Civil War Memorial site, where we learned about many of the men and women who died to further the Civil Rights movement.

And look! This is after I signed a pledge to be an advocate for civil rights:

I love having Emma here. She is such a fun girl. Tomorrow we're taking a road trip to Panama City, FL to hit the beach. It's gonna be great!

Book Reviews

2011-03-02T20:47:00.001-08:00

I thought it would be fun to review a few of the books I've read lately.

A Northern Light, by Jennifer Donnelly. I just finished this one today. It was a quick read (I bought it Saturday, and it kept me busy for one train ride and part of one flight, plus some in-between time). It's a fictional, coming-of-age story with a tragic, historical event woven in. Mattie, the heroine, is ambitious and smart but confined by a promise she made her dying mother to help raise her sisters and take care of the farm.

Before I read the book, I read the following from a review by The Christian Science Monitor: "...Honest and unflinching in its portrayal of loss, poverty, racism, and pregnancy..." The book has won several awards as "young adult literature," so I cringed a little when I read that review, imagining that the book would feel pedagogical or jerky in its attempt to cover so many buzz-word topics. I mean, loss, poverty, racism, and pregnancy? I almost laughed when I read that, and then I wondered if I'd feel like a teenager sitting through health class as I read the book. And I can honestly say it didn't come across that way. Some of the efforts to be educational are pretty transparent--Mattie chooses a word-of-the-day and often defines it in the context of what is happening in the story, for example--but I was able to embrace that aspect of the book (yay for learning new words!).

The storyline is pretty good, with several interesting tangents to the murder mystery (which isn't much of a mystery, by the way). Mattie is faced with plenty of tough choices that require her to choose whether she will be true to herself. It sounds like a pretty predictable premise, but I really wasn't sure what she'd choose until the end.

Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell. Okay, if you haven't read Outliers, just go read it already. I've been hearing about this book for awhile now, and it's no wonder--this book is great. I have been filled forever with anecdotes and statistics. Ones I actually care about because they're fascinating. Did you know that way more professional hockey players in Canada are born in January than in any other month? Did you know that on average, it takes seven consecutive mistakes for a plane to crash--and the mistakes are usually communication errors, not the highly technical kind. Have you ever wondered why Asians seem to be smarter and better at school than Americans? Or why Southerners tend to be more territorial? You can find the answers to all this and more...

I loved this book. Okay, next.

Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough, by Lori Gottlieb. The title gets people riled up, I have found. The word "settle" is pretty controversial, turns out. No one likes it. It's unromantic. It doesn't jive with all the get-your-man, happy-ending movies and books and music we've pumped into our systems. But as one of my guy friends pointed out, "Isn't settling what we all do when we get married?" He's right.

I heard Lori Gottlieb interviewed on the radio show This American Life, and she told a funny story about desperately wanting to meet a particular columnist because she was sure he was "the One." She actually lied to him--sent him a note asking if he remembered meeting her in the airport several years earlier--and he lied, or reconstructed a false memory, or something, and said he did remember and would like to meet up. Anyway, she ends up meeting him and is ultimately unimpressed. I liked listening to her and figured if reading her book was like listening to her talk, it would be entertaining.

Mostly the book was a collection of informal interviews she conducted with therapists, social scientists, writers, match-makers, single and married friends about current trends in dating and marriage, as well as her own stories and insights regarding the search for love and matrimony. Despite the hated term "to settle," I think she makes her point well--women, in particular, are becoming increasingly picky and often delay marriage in favor of holding out for Mr. Perfect. She poignantly but humorously tells her own story of passed-up opportunities and regret, and her shifting mindset as the years pass and she longs for the stability of marriage (she's like 41, I think, in the book).

It was a good read. Although, if you're interested, you could also just read the article she published in the Atlantic. It's everything she said in the book, only without repeating herself 10 million times. Sometimes feeling like the book was too repetitive was my only gripe. An interesting theme, though.

Next up on my to-read list: Freakonomics; Stick Figure: A diary of my former self (by Lori Gottlieb again); Brown Face, Big Master; the other Malcolm Gladwell books (Tipping Point and Blink), and I think I want to re-check out These is My Words from the library so I can finish it. Any other suggestions? Tell me what to read!

My Little Brother

2011-02-23T23:06:00.001-08:00

My brother is turning 13 next week. I just read this poem, which he wrote about what it's like being a Mormon. I'm proud of him for being way braver than I ever was when I was his age. Happy Birthday, Brigham!

I made crafty stuff again.

2011-02-14T18:24:00.001-08:00

Happy Valentines Day!

So, I'm not one of those craft bloggers, but...

2011-01-31T17:50:00.000-08:00

My roommate and I made this awesome thing for Relief Society to help remind us all to do our visiting teaching.

First we made the cute little magnet sheepies:

We made lots of them. One for each girl that needs to get visited each month.

Then we decorated the magnetic dry erase board so one half looks like the desert, and the other half is the grassy pasture where we want all the sheep to end up each month. Observe:

Cute, huh? I adapted this idea from something Maggie did one time when she was in charge of visiting teaching in our old ward. I won't tell you how long Esperanza and I worked on this today, because then it doesn't seem quite as cool. It was a fun project though, and hopefully it will be useful.

I made something delicious and I want everyone to know about it.

2011-01-17T17:06:00.000-08:00

So, I had some fresh rosemary and garlic around, and some already-cooked pasta left over and some cooked potatoes and carrots and onions that were also left over from something I had made. I threw it all in a pot of water, with some chicken bouillon, and then cracked an egg in it (I love eggs in soup) and VOILA! A delicious soup. Then I made a grilled cheese (with pepper jack cheese--the best) and my standard banana smoothie (a banana and milk in the blender, then some cinnamon sprinkled on top.) The soup smelled amazing, and I was very pleased with my thrown together, yet delicious meal. It took like, 10 minutes to make. Everyone rejoice!

Christmas 2010

2011-01-04T10:12:00.001-08:00

War Eagle!

Scripture Reading Blog

2011-01-01T11:24:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year everyone! I have a goal to improve the quality and consistency of my scripture study this year. To help myself do this, I have created a blog where I will post one short thought on my scripture reading each day this year. You can check it out here. Here's to a fabulous 2011!

Sister Gotze

2010-12-16T20:50:00.000-08:00

I had the chance to go to a viewing for Filomena Gotze, who passed away last week from a stroke. She and her husband had flown to Utah from Aruba to celebrate their daughter's college graduation and visit with some of her other kids and grandkids.

As I watched the picture slideshow, what really got my attention was her eyes--they just shine in every picture. She looks so tranquil and happy with her grandkids, her kids, her husband, her church friends.

There's a different feeling at a funeral where people know about God's plan. There wasn't lots of crying, although my heart ached for her sweet husband of 40+ years. Still, her kids and husband talked about how things had worked out in a way that let them know God was mindful of them. She was able to spend time with kids and grandkids who lived in the U.S. and Spain, and visit Temple Square just before she died. Temple Square was a place she really loved.

Seeing two sisters I loved from my mission pass away recently has reminded me about the person I want to be. I'm grateful for both of their examples. I'm so grateful that families can be together eternally, through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I hope I can live worthy of those blessings.

This Song is AWESOME

2010-12-16T10:23:00.000-08:00

Sister Maylinda

2010-12-10T15:04:00.000-08:00

Meet "Sister Maylinda."

Born in the Dominican Republic, she moved to Aruba in her younger years to marry an Aruban. I knew her because I was a missionary in Aruba for 9 months. Every Friday, she had us over for lunch. She made the best food--rice and beans, but they were THE BEST rice and beans I've ever had. She'd usually make us some kind of chicken or meat to go with it. Plus, she'd make fresh passion fruit or mango or pineapple juice. And she'd serve us a little snack-pack pudding for dessert. When we finished lunch, we'd always take our plates over to the sink. Sometimes I would absentmindedly throw the chicken bones from my plate in the trash. She hated that--she saved every scrap so she could give it to the dogs on the side of the road.

She was a very talented seamstress. She ran a successful business for years, but by the time I knew her, she mostly just did favors for people. One time I was with her when she ran into someone who remembered Maylinda from 20 years before because Maylinda had made her wedding dress. She made my companion and me skirts one time--I still remember her exclaiming how VERY WIDE my hips were when she measured me. :) (Thanks to her beans and rice, probably.)

When I went back to Aruba a year after my mission to do research, she let me stay at her house. Even though I didn't expect her to, she doted on me and fed me. She was always putting people up in the spare bedroom in her house--it wasn't just me--and I'm sure she took care of them all, too.

A couple of times as a missionary, I remember having to go through her bedroom to get to the bathroom. Her bedroom was perfectly tidy. The bed was always made. All she really had in there was a set of scriptures sitting on the stand next to her bed. It was simple and clean and focused, just like her.

Maylinda was dependable. Nearly every week, she came with us to the English class we taught, just to be there. (She already spoke fine English.)

She was a sweet grandmother. Her grandkids LOVED spending the day at her house.

She walked to the bus stop every Sunday so she could go to church.

She would respond immediately if she heard someone didn't have anything to eat, by taking them a hot meal.

I remember someone we taught as missionaries who didn't know how to read. Maylinda agreed to have the woman over every week so she could read the scriptures to her. The woman continued to walk to Maylinda's house for months after my companion and I stopped teaching her. All kinds of people felt welcome in her house.

Aruba won't be the same place now that she's gone. I'm grateful for her example, her testimony, and her constant service. Mi ta stima bo pa semper, Hermana Maylinda. <3

The Weepies!!

2010-11-18T19:45:00.000-08:00

Atlanta+Friends+Some-of-the-best-pizza-ever+THE WEEPIES LIVE=happiness.

Agency

2010-11-07T19:52:00.000-08:00

I read the following talk by Elder Hales (one of the Twelve Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.)

He said:

"Throughout His life our Savior showed us how to use our agency. As a boy in Jerusalem, He deliberately chose to “be about [His] Father’s business.”10 In His ministry, He obediently chose “to do the will of [His] Father.”11 In Gethsemane, He chose to suffer all things, saying, “Not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.”12 On the cross, He chose to love His enemies, praying, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”13 And then, so that He could finally demonstrate that He was choosing for Himself, He was left alone. “[Father,] why hast thou forsaken me?” He asked.14 At last, He exercised His agency to act, enduring to the end, until He could say, “It is finished.”15

I like the phrase "deliberately chose" in that second sentence. It's making me think about my life, and how often I deliberately choose to follow Christ. Sometimes, I may just do the right things out of habit or because my family and friends do them. But I feel a desire to be more intentional in following the Savior.

My Music on Grooveshark

2010-10-14T12:31:00.001-07:00

Hey there. Some of you know that I like to write music. I'm no professional, but it's something that I really enjoy. A while back I spent some time (and moolah) making a recording of some of my songs. The quality isn't perfect, and some of them could DEFINITELY stand to be re-done. But, I found a way to share them! Just go to grooveshark.com and search "Cammie Beckstead" and they'll come up.

Enjoy!

Bamy

2010-10-09T19:51:00.000-07:00

My name is Cammie. I'm from Alabamy. Well, I live here anyways. With either a church or a Waffle House on every block, this is definitely the south. Football is king--don't even think about going for a drive on game day. And campus? It's closed down for the weekend. That's right, even the library. Here in the south, the world is green and beautiful. People say "Yes, ma'am," and "Yes, sir." People ask me where I'm from and tell me I have an accent. If you don't like someone, you just say, "Bless her heart," and everyone knows what you really mean. This is my new home, and I'm loving it.

Trust in Me

2010-07-13T17:50:00.000-07:00

Why, I wonder, is it so hard to trust people?

Today, I got a $30 parking citation. This was given to me in a Visitor's Lot on BYU campus, after I had spoken with the parking attendant girl at the booth, and she had asked me if I was a BYU student. No, I told her, I wasn't a student. She asked me if I had graduated previously (the answer is yes), and if I was a grad student at BYU (the answer is no), and then she gave me a temporary Visitor's pass for my car, as well as a razor blade to try and remove the ridiculous Y lot sticker that I can't get off my windshield. (Maybe that was what made her think I was a student in the first place.)

Anyway, I got out of my car with my backpack, ready to hit up campus for some work on my research project, and when I came back out two hours later there was a $30 citation. On the bottom of the ticket, in girly handwriting, were the words, "See parking booth attendant to avoid ticket." Turns out the ticket was issued by the same girl who had given me permission to park there in the first place, and she thought I was a liar all along.

Why would I even park in the Visitor's Lot at 8 in the morning in the summer, when I could have my pick of all the student lots around campus? Also, how weird that the girl wouldn't have just verified my non-student-ship during the initial interrogation.

Oh, well. I'm over it. I gave her my ID, and stood there somewhat smugly as she called someone to verify that I wasn't afilliated with the school. I guess it's just hard to trust people these days.

Goodbye, Friend

2010-06-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

My friend moved away on Sunday. Things around here don't feel the same without him.

One of my friends told me something his mom said one time when they moved to a new state. She was leaving a dear friend behind and she said something like, "Don't make friends. Every time you do, you just end up having to say goodbye."

I don't share her philosophy deep down, except when I have to feel a goodbye--that emptiness--and it brings out the melodramatic in me.

I'm Happy I Was Born

2010-05-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

1. Archie came to get me at 8:30 this morning and took me here: I had french toast and amazing syrup. Mmmmmm.

2. Walked into work. There are two lines for pick-up. The first says this:

I don't know if you can read that, but it says "Order Pick-up." The other one says "Customer Service." Only when I came in to work, dear Curt had changed out the sign to look like this:

3. Got this card at work today from my co-worker, James. He was embarrassed by it but I love it.

Check out the inside...

4. Went to lunch with my beloved co-workers, Curt, James, and Laura. Getting our food took over an hour, and in total we were away from work for about an hour and 40 minutes. It seemed okay because it was my birthday.

5. Went to a birthday bonfire at the Hansens' house in Payson. Roasted hotdogs, marshmallows, and starbursts. Maggie is my best friend and so thoughtful to get a lot of my favorite people together for my birthday.

I'm pretty sure I have the best friends and family in the whole world.

SNOW

2010-05-24T12:06:00.000-07:00

That's right, it snowed today. It's almost June, and it snowed today. My birthday is in 3 days, and it snowed today. My birthday! Which is--it always HAS been--a "summer birthday." Meaning, I never brought cupcakes to school on my birthday. Because my birthday was during SUMMER VACATION. I don't care if the summer season doesn't officially begin until June, my birthday is a summer birthday. And it snowed today.

That said, I shouldn't complain about anything that keeps people in their homes and away from our busy Will Call office on a Monday morning. It's like a lovely little Christmas gift, in May.

I'm training for my second triathlon. Only this time, I kind of want to challenge myself and go for the Olympic one instead of the Sprint one. The sprint one was pretty comfortable, but making the jump to the Olympic one seems completely daunting. I don't want to regret not going for it, though. I was terrified of the swimming section of the sprint until I did it last year, and it wasn't bad! So I'm hoping that's how the olympic one will be, this year. Can you tell I'm still trying to fully convince myself I can do it? I still haven't registered. But I made up my training plan. Too bad I started late--it's already three weeks into what's supposed to be a 10-week plan. Whoops. I can do it though, right? I'm young! If I can't do it now, then when will I? Although, I remember learning in an Adult Development class that old people, while they decline in speed and agility, actually IMPROVE in endurance. Isn't that cool? That must be why there were so many elderly folks at last year's triathlon kicking my trash.

I went to an awesome concert on Saturday. Check out the Local Natives, if you haven't listened to them before. Also, the opening act was pretty good, too. Check out The Suckers here.

Wanna know what keeps me sane at work?

2010-05-13T10:05:00.000-07:00

It's a fishing pole.

After working here for about 5 months, I decided I deserved a seating change. I selected a cubicle right next to favorite co-worker #1, and right across from favorite co-worker #2. Favorite co-worker #2 fashioned a fishing pole out of two wooden dowels (not sure where he found them) taped together, with a couple of shoe-laces tied end-to-end forming the line. Whenever one of us is bored, we have but to lower the line down onto the other side of the divider between our desks, and wait for the other to attach some prize. I've fished out all kinds of things. Yesterday, it was a pack of Gushers. Another day, it was a mouse pad. Once it was a cleaned-out Wendy's salad bowl (Weird, I know, but FC#2 knows I like to reuse them).

This kind of fishing is still just as thrilling as I remember it being as a kid.

If I wasn't moving to Alabama...

2010-05-12T10:28:00.000-07:00

I would buy a pull-up bar.

And maybe a punching bag.

I feel like both of those things would make me feel tough. But, since I have to cram myself, my Dad, and everything I own into a Toyota Camry this August, and the lot of us has to make it across the country, I won't. I guess I'll be glad I still have the money, if not the muscles, when I go to buy my textbooks.

I think my Dad would be proud of my reasoning abilities and my (if intermittent) bouts of self-control.

May 5th.

2010-05-05T08:55:00.000-07:00

None of these thoughts are related to each other:

I thought it was really funny yesterday when a lady called me at work and complained, "I didn't know the automatic shipment had to be automatic."

Also, I really liked something I read in the Book of Mormon yesterday, in Helaman 3.

4 And they did travel to an exceedingly great distance, insomuch that they came to alarge bodies of water and many rivers.
5 Yea, and even they did spread forth into all parts of the land, into whatever parts it had not been rendered desolate and without timber, because of the many inhabitants who had before inherited the land.
6 And now no part of the land was desolate, save it were for timber; but because of the greatness of the adestruction of the people who had before inhabited the land it was called bdesolate.
7 And there being but little timber upon the face of the land, nevertheless the people who went forth became exceedingly expert in the working of cement; therefore they did build houses of cement, in the which they did dwell.
8 And it came to pass that they did multiply and spread, and did go forth from the land southward to the land northward, and did spread insomuch that they began to cover the face of the whole earth, from the sea south to the sea north, from the sea awest to the sea east.
9 And the people who were in the land northward did dwell in tents, and in houses of cement, and they did suffer whatsoever tree should spring up upon the face of the land that it should grow up, that in time they might have timber to build their houses, yea, their cities, and their temples, and their bsynagogues, and their sanctuaries, and all manner of their buildings.
10 And it came to pass as timber was exceedingly scarce in the land northward, they did send forth much by the way of shipping.
11 And thus they did enable the people in the land northward that they might build many cities, both of wood and of cement.

I think it's cool how these people made do with what they had, but still looked forward towards the future. They became cement gurus, because they didn't have any wood. And at the same time, they let the trees grow in so they'd have 'em, and they were able to supply other communities with that wood.

Sometimes we might have to be patient (have you ever waited for a tree to grow?), but that doesn't mean we can't make do with what we have, and look forward til our trees come in.

I may or may not have just glanced in my boss's office to see him staring at his own picture, magnified 200% on his computer screen.

Also, I may or may not have pulled a muscle in my back trying to lift a 106 pound weight yesterday at Play It Again Sports during my lunch break. What was I thinking?

Today's Tidbits

2010-04-27T13:15:00.000-07:00

Quick update: (and this probably won't even be an update anymore, if you know me from anywhere other than my blog). I picked a grad school! I'll be headed to Auburn, Alabama to attend the Marriage and Family Therapy program at Auburn University.

Things that make me nervous and hope I've made the right choice include the fact that I still think about how much I liked Nebraska when I visited their program. I hate that I can’t always choose everything I want. Sometimes I feel a pang of sadness when I think about having had to tell them no.

Things that make me happy I'm going to the South:
• There’s a lady from South Carolina who called me at work the other day, and when our chatty conversation turned to my plans to move to Alabama, she shouted into the phone, “Well, sugar, you’re going to the heart o’ Dixie! Welcome to the South!” I love that she would welcome me to her sector of the United States, even though I’m not even moving to her state.
• I watched the movie Blind Side, and when the football recruiter from Auburn University showed up, I was filled with a surge of pride. I called my brother, who was sitting on the other side of the theater, to make sure he’d seen it, too. His response was, “Yes. I’m hanging up now.”
• Auburn has a good football team, and I think I’d rather be a tiger than a cornhusker, if I was going to be reincarnated as one or the other.

Okay, so those are mostly silly reasons. Turns out, in addition to all those reasons, Auburn is reputed to have one of the top MFT programs in the country, in a beautiful state, with lots of culture and history and people I’m excited to know. Class starts August 18th.

Famous People, and Nebraska

2010-02-18T07:12:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was quite eventful as I traveled to Lincoln, Nebraska for a graduate school interview. I got to the Salt Lake Airport at 5 am Thursday morning and boarded my flight. As I sat at my window seat, wondering who would be occupying the seat next to me, a very large man came into view. I grumbled within myself. "Oh great, looks like I'll be sharing half of my seat," I thought.

The man sat down and we began chatting. He was on his way to Colorado to give a speech. When I asked him what for, he told me he used to wrestle. "Like, professionally?" was all I could think to ask. "I won the gold medal in Sydney and the bronze in Athens." What?! At that point I knew I had heard of him, but I had to ask his name. "Rulon Gardner," he confirmed. No way--I was sitting next to Rulon Gardner. We talked about what it felt like to win a Gold Medal, and how one goes about training for a sport like wrestling. My dumb question was, "How do you train for wrestling, anyway? It's not like you can just wrestle people, all the time!" He paused, and then said, "Yep, that's how you train. You just wrestle people, all the time. Big people, small people. You just find people to wrestle."

In Denver, I got on my connecting flight to Omaha. This time I sat next to a man with a British accent, and we immediately began chatting about where we were going and why. He was a musician headed to Iowa for a performance. When I probed, I found out he was a member of the King's Singers. He told me about singing for President Hinckley, we talked about religious traditions like Mardi Gras and Lent, and he told me stories of times when he had failed or not been given what he wanted but how he knew God had a plan for him. He seemed like such a wise fellow. His parting words to me were, "Have a nice journey. Be yourself!"

And there I was, in Omaha, having spent my morning with two different famous people, and wondering what I could/should have learned from each of them. And then I started thinking about how much I could probably learn from ANY person, if I could sit with them and talk with them and invest the same amount of interest in what they had to say as I would for an Olympic athlete or a world-class singer.

The next four days were spent in Lincoln, Nebraska. Friday I had my all-day interview with the faculty of the Marriage and Family Therapy program at University of Nebraska. It was great; I was impressed by the program and liked the town. I added a slew of items to the 'pros' side of my running pros and cons list for Nebraska (I have one for each of the schools I'm applying to).

Tuesday morning I got a call from one of the MFT faculty from Nebraska. I'm in! What a huge relief to get in to a program. I will go to school next year, for sure! I have two interviews left, and lots more considering to do, but I'm stoked about the idea of being a Corn Husker.

Watch This

2009-11-25T02:35:00.000-08:00

I thought this little video was quite thought-provoking. What am I gonna do about it? Not sure yet. But I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Oh. My. Heck.

2009-11-23T02:15:00.000-08:00

What a crazy night of work.

First off, as I was driving to work tonight I got caught in a blizzard. I prayed, and I sang hymns, and I felt inclined to think about what would happen if I slipped off the edge of the highway and died. I pleaded with God to let me stay. And I thought how it would be exciting to see Grandpa Davis if He didn't let me stay. But I figured Grandpa Davis and probably some other people, too, wanted me to stay.

I wasn't sure whether to pull over, keep driving, or turn around and go home. But I was expected at work. And there were other people on the road, too. So I kept driving. When the snow really got bad, I'd already entered the canyon and didn't have cell service anymore. So I plunged onward at 25 miles an hour.

I was half an hour late to work, and my co-worker hadn't arrived yet. When one of the day shift people called her to see if she was okay, she said she had been pulled over by a highway patrolman who told her to turn around and go home. Because there was only one of me, and also because the storm was bad, the two day-shifters had to stay.

It was funny to start out the shift with them. One of them was almost giddy at the thought of sitting and watching a movie on my laptop. A Series of Unfortunate Events and 3 episodes of The Office later, however, they were both out cold. One is sleeping at my end of the hall, and the other is sleeping at the other end. Both are laying flat on their stomachs. I am safely perched on the "sick bed," a sort of futon built into the wall.

"Safely perched." Because a few minutes ago, I thought I saw a mouse in the corner of my eye. I dismissed the idea, because when I first got hired, the program director had hired someone to come "take care of the mouse problem." I had heard them scuttling around in the walls, and outside the windows, but hadn't ever seen one face to face.

But a couple minutes after I thought I had imagined seeing a mouse, I really did see a mouse. It ran out onto the carpet, and stood there, inches from my sleeping co-workers face. I refrained from screaming because I knew if she woke up she would be completely terrorized, and every girl in this place would wake up, too. The little mousey ran under the pillow her head's on, and then retraced its steps and ran away again.

Anyway, I'm happy to be up here on this "sick bed." And I'm happy to be alive. I'm grateful to have Buck the 4-Runner, with four-wheel drive for storms. I'm happy there are only 3 more hours left in this shift. I'm happy that this week is Thanksgiving. I'm happy that today is my third-to-last shift at this place--ever. I'm happy to have had a job.

I'm happy that God lives and the Savior came. I had a realization in the car today that I really haven't done everything I want to, yet. I also realized that no matter when this life ends, Jesus Christ will have to make up for my shortcomings. I felt extremely humbled to imagine my lack of preparedness to meet God, despite my efforts. Yet somehow I felt assured that He would make it okay. I feel so grateful for that today, and wish I could feel this grateful more often without almost dying.

Alma 34, and my roommate, Yo-yo

2009-11-18T02:44:00.000-08:00

Verse 27: "Yea, and when you do not cry unto the Lord, let your hearts be full, drawn out in prayer unto him continually for your welfare, and also for the welfare of those who are around you." Thus ends the section previously marked in my mind as "the prayer section."

Verse 28 says: "And now behold, my beloved brethren, I say unto you, do not suppose that this is all; for after ye have done all these things, if ye turn away the needy, and the naked, and visit not the sick and afflicted, and impart of your substance, if ye have, to those who stand in need--I say unto you, if ye do not any of these things, behold, your prayer is vain, and availeth you nothing, and ye are as hypocrites who do deny the faith."

I had never really noticed before that verse 28 is referring to the previous several verses on prayer. Our prayers are essentially ineffective if they aren't followed by action. Our heartfelt prayer for God to bless someone in need ought to be followed by our sincerest efforts to help them ourselves, in whatever way we can.

Anyway, I was reading these verses and picturing my adorable, Chinese roommate, Yo-yo, who, just before I walked out tonight to go to work, remembered, "Oh, Cammie! I have something for you!" She dashed to the kitchen and brought out a container of strawberry Yoplait yogurt. "You need the energy," she said. How cute is that? And then she explained to me that she thought it would be my favorite kind, since she's seen me eating strawberries, and she's also seen me eating yogurt. I love love.

What to do in the middle of the night?

2009-11-15T20:48:00.000-08:00

So, I don't generally get a ton of participation from readers. Possibly because I don't have many readers. But if you are a reader, even if I don't know you're a reader, I want you to leave your comment to this post.

I have spent the last 2 months working a graveyard shift at a residential treatment center for adolescent girls. The hardest part about my job is staying up all night. I just put in my two-weeks' notice (Yaaaaay!!!), but I've still got two weeks left.

Here is a list of my nighttime activities, in case you ever wondered.

1. Transcription. I'm typing out all the Aruba tapes (from my research this summer), word for painstaking word. Maybe I should have worked on this more than I did.
2. Studying for the GRE. I could have worked on this more, too. But, I successfully finished the test, so that's cool.
3. Studying my scriptures.
4. Writing in my journal.
5. Writing on Aruba postcards to send to my missionaries from my last MTC district.
6. Composing serious emails to people I really needed to say serious things to.
7. Shopping at Forever21, but refraining from buying since I could have easily wasted a night's work money in one go.
8. Writing lyrics to a song I had already composed the tune to.
9. Watching a bunch of stupid movies and a couple of good ones. I really liked a foreign film called August Evening.
10. Eating. Huge quantities of baby carrots, grapes, and wheat thins.
11. Checking out craigslist: applying for new jobs; browsing the "free" items.
12. Making blog entries.
13. Writing a sample letter of recommendation for a professor, writing my letter of intent, and doing some other graduate school application stuff.
14. Reading: The Alchemist, Clara's War, Serendipity, Corner Shop, and this comedy book called "I Shudder..." until it got too crude for me. But there was a hilarious chapter about this guy's affinity for marshmallow Peeps. He does a pretty good job of describing what makes Peeps the most disgusting food you could ever imagine, and it was really funny. If you read the book, only worry about reading that chapter.
15. Watching almost every single episode of The Office ever made.

My question for you is this:

What would YOU do, if you had to stay awake all night, to keep from sleeping? I will accept movie or book recommendations, or just funny things you have done/would do if forced to stay awake.

Ghetto Phone

2009-11-09T05:25:00.000-08:00

I think it'd be awesome if, when using the predictive text option on my phone, I didn't have to flip through dozens of progressively obscure words before eventually having to manually spell out the word I want.

The other day, I wanted to say something about a wart I have on my foot. Yes, that's right, I have a wart. On my foot. Am I such an anomaly? Well, apparently--judging by the fact that I keyed in 9278 and my phone spit out the word "wast." Wast? Old English. Really? Was that really someone's best guess at what someone would be trying to say with that number grouping? I hope that person didn't have a degree in statistics, because I'd say the probability of me wanting to spell "wast" on my phone is pretty low.

Actually, the 'wart' example isn't the best, because unlike my experience with many other words I try to spell, "wast" was the only option spat out by my phone, before it gave up and asked me to spell the word myself. I feel like this whole predictive text thing is a guessing game, and my phone just doesn't have the creative skills, or the determination, or the will to win that is required by this sort of game. I'm pretty sure that if I could challenge my phone to a game of boggle, I would win, hands down. (Okay, I realize the poor thing is just a phone. But still.)

Perhaps the reason I am really bothered is that I felt slightly miffed by the fact that my phone didn't seem to recognize my problem as a legitimate or even somewhat commonplace malady. Maybe that's what this all stems from--my own self-consciousness about the wart on my foot.

Pumpkin Dates

2009-11-01T23:46:00.000-08:00

'Tis the season! I went on two separate dates involving pumpkins or pumpkin-like activities this Halloween season. Here's the proof.

Date #1: Who wants to carve another pumpkin when you can carve...something else? Pictured here are Jorge the Banana Squash (note the sombrero, which is fashioned partially from the backside of Jorge's squash body--yes, a graft of sorts), and Chewy (sp?) the Butternut Squash, whose tongue was once the chunk of squash removed to make a mouth-hole. Aren't they cute?

Date #2: We went walking around a neighborhood on Halloween night taking pictures of jack-o-lanterns on porches. Upon returning home, we loaded the pics onto the computer and meticulously reviewed each one to judge which was the best. Once we picked our favorite, we created a certificate, to be presented to the creator of the winning pumpkin, along with a candy bar. Check out some of the top contenders:

Not bad at all.

Pretty good.

A Nativity Scene? Trying to put the real meaning back into...wait.

Hands.

The "SMILE" pumpkin.

But best of all, we decided, was this one. I had to put the flash on, because a lot of the details were lost without it.

Well, the recipient of the contest he didn't even know he had entered did look a little taken-aback to see two college co-eds standing there on his porch, NOT dressed in costume, and clutching a piece of paper. I imagine he thought we wanted to sell him something. "We looked at all the pumpkins in your neighborhood," I said, "and we decided yours is the best. So this is for you," I said, handing over the prize.

"Who is this from--" and then, after a pause of realization, "Oh--from the two of you?"

"Yep."

"Well, thank you!" And in the house he went. What a funny exchange. I sure hope he's proud. Happy Halloween!

Ingrid Michaelson

2009-10-22T17:18:00.000-07:00

Saturday night we went to the Ingrid Michaelson concert in Salt Lake. I have decided that it was the best concert I’ve ever attended. Here’s why:
•She let us sing along. Actually, she asked us to sing along. Sometimes she even had us carry our own part of the song and she’d sing some cool counter melody, or we’d do a call-and-answer sort of thing. She’d stop the song in the middle sometimes to coach us on our audience singing.
•I didn’t feel like I was just listening to her recorded music—instead, there was something new, funny, or impressive about the way she performed each song live. For example, “Far Away” sounded like a hoe-down, complete with a mandolin and accordian. Completely different from the recording, and so fun to listen to.
•She and her band members were multi-talented. Besides for the guitar, bass, Ingrid’s mini-guitar, and percussion, we saw a euphonium, an accordion, a mandolin, and the piano make their way onto the scene from time to time.
•She rapped the words of “Vanilla Ice” and “Fresh Prince of Bellaire” over the bass line to her song, “The Way I Am.” She also sang a parody of her own song, “Maybe.” The new song was a tribute to Mexican food, and instead of the lyrics, “Maybe…in the future…you’re gonna come back…you’re gonna come back around,” she sang, “Burritos…and tacos…chimichangas…and quesadillas.”
•She was so—normal. Jeans and a t-shirt. And funny. Instead of making us scream ‘Encore’ for her to come back onto the stage at the end of the show, she told us she had another song, and that they’d just hide for a few minutes and come back and sing it for us. So we all felt cool because she didn't try to trick us. Instead she let us in on the joke. And people still screamed until she came back.
•She messed up a couple of times, and laughed about it. One time she was like, “Dang it, I totally just started singing the wrong song.”
•She writes her own songs, and they’re fun, and catchy, and unique. Cool!

The Seville

2009-09-25T15:27:00.001-07:00

I've been job searching, and recently found a job. But that's not what this post will be about. This post will be about my favorite job posting, found on Craigslist.

The job listing wasn't so much for a job, as it was for a contest. A contest for the best song about the retirement community called The Seville, the writer of which would win $300. Now, I am an amateur songwriter but I enjoy the art, and my interest was piqued at this chance to earn some hard cash by stringing together the right kind of words and tune. What kind of song could they possibly be looking for? I stewed over the question for a few days and then surprised myself by taking the ad writer's suggestion--I went to the Seville, in person, to "get a feel for the place."

With a brochure in hand, a 4-minute, awkward conversation with The Seville management behind me, and a much better understanding of what kind of song I needed to write, I returned home. I was surprised to learn that the winning song would not be some sort of 30-second radio jingle, but rather, a sort of theme song designed to be sung by the residents about the place they live. I also learned that The Seville is a place where retired people can go to enjoy retirement. They eat three chef-prepared meals a day, can exercise in the exercise room, socialize with other retirees, and can even travel and stay in any of some odd 250 Sevilles around the country (all of this included in their easy, month-to-month rent payment). They can bring their pets with them. There is no medical care at the Seville. These, I concluded, were the rich, hip grandparents who don't feel like taking care of their house anymore, but not because they can't.

Anyway, I wrote a song. And because The Seville's brochure indicated that The Seville was part of a chain called "Holiday Residences" or "Holiday" something or other, I used the word "holiday" in the chorus. And the chorus, which I can't sing without imagining a chorus of elderly voices clamoring along with me, says, "Who says you need a holiday to feel this way?" I'll spare you the rest of the lyrics.

The funny part was yesterday, when I sang my newly-written song to my roommate, Megan--I always like to test new songs out on her--and I forgot to explain to her what sort of a place The Seville was. So as I was singing, she was imagining a place much like the majority of nursing homes I think we've all been to. And after I sang the line, "Who says you need a holiday to feel this way?" a few times, she finally couldn't keep it in any longer. She shook her head and asked, "Feel what way? Sick and dying?!"

It's true that people with oxygen tanks and wheel chairs don't need a holiday to feel whatever way they're feeling. But would they really sing a song about it? Probably not. At the same time, would perfectly healthy seniors actually go around singing the song written about the place they live? Would my roommates and I ever sing a song written in tribute to the ghetto apartment complex we call home?

Maybe I'll let you know how the contest turns out.

Musings on Marriage

2009-09-22T23:38:00.000-07:00

So, I usually don't write about things like this on my blog, but I was feeling contemplative today as I walked home and just felt like getting some of these thoughts on paper. (or on screen, I guess.)

I have changed a lot throughout my college years with regards to my desires for marriage and what exactly I think I am looking for. I think I've always wanted to be married and have a family, but my expectations and dreams have changed quite a bit over time.

When I was 19, the mystery of marriage to me was that two people could want to be together no matter what. I actually remember telling people that I hoped to be poor with my husband for a time when we were first married. Something about clinging to one another while living in a shack and barely being able to put food on the table (temporarily, of course) was appealing to me. The idea that two people could be so enamored with each other despite destitute circumstances (even poverty, which I happen to believe is anything but romantic, now), seemed very romantic to me at the time. I also remember fantasizing about living on a farm. I have never lived on a farm, so I don’t know where this idea came from. I just wanted to be in love. And if I could be in love with a man whose one desire was to come in after a hard day’s work to a home-cooked meal and a sweet wife, I was pretty sure life would have reached its peak. At this time I was a sophomore in college. As some of the girls I was acquainted with got married—and some even quit school to get married—I had some secret hopes that I too would be married before I graduated, so I could move straight from student life into wife life.

Over the next while I realized that I wanted to be appreciated for more than just my abilities to cook and clean. I wanted someone who would see me as being smart. And even if I still ultimately aspired to be “just a mom,” I wanted to know that I could have done ANYTHING. I began to develop plans for graduate school, but I felt I’d probably abandon them if the chance to marry the right person presented itself. Junior year in college—20 years old—I remember announcing to a boy that I wanted to go to graduate school and become a therapist. He laughed and said, “Wow, you actually have, like, a plan!” It felt good to hear him say that, and I realized I wanted someone who would appreciate my ambitions, education, and ability to be self-sufficient and even provide for myself or a family if I needed to.

My ideas about my personal purpose in life continued to change as I was given repeated opportunities to learn and grow. I spent time in Mexico volunteering in an orphanage, served a mission to Puerto Rico, let myself become fascinated with my studies in Marriage, Family, and Human Development and really started to dream of the difference I wanted to be able to make as a therapist. It became something that I really wanted to do. It stopped feeling like a backup plan. I started wondering what I would do when I finally did get married, and wondered if I would relinquish my career as readily as I had once imagined.

My most recent project in Aruba was sort of empowering. Sometimes I think about what it would be like to move to Aruba—or anywhere!—and just become a part of the place. Our stake’s theme this year was “I can make a difference in my own life and in the life of others.” And it’s true! Part of me just wants to spend my life traveling the world, or just lay down my roots in some remote part of the world and do amazing and wonderful things for people. I’ve spent the last two weeks imagining places I could go and things I could do. I could just blend in, and really help people. Maybe as a therapist, or maybe implementing some sort of marriage education program based on the research we did, or maybe just really being that missionary I’ve always wanted to be.

And it hit me today, as I walked home, that it actually might be more convenient to never marry or have kids. I might be able to get a whole lot more accomplished. I could travel more, maybe pursue my songwriting interest, and even teach people what I know (even with no personal experience of my own) about how to be happily married or how to raise their kids. I realized that I would be giving up a lot of exciting opportunities if I decided to have a family. And I was a little shocked at the thoughts going through my head, especially when I considered how vastly different they were from a few years back.

But then I kept walking and I did a bit of personal inventory. I realized that in the way-deep-down part of my heart, I’d still pick a family over career, travels, and adventure. Any day of the week.

And this may seem unrelated, but my taste in men has changed over the years. My expectations have gone up, and as I walked home today I wondered in what way my last six-or-so years of experiences have influenced that shift. Have I come to understand myself better and what is really important, thereby coming up with a clearer picture of what I am looking for in the person I marry? Or am I more clear in what I am looking for only because I am becoming increasingly more picky and choosy, or more demanding? I just don’t know. But I do know that while several years ago I used to wait for someone to sweep me off my feet and convince me to put aside my dreams and aspirations, I feel much more inclined to hope there is someone out there who will walk with me and help me achieve some of my crazy goals, and let me take part in his as well.

And I don’t know if anyone will read this, because I’m not even in Aruba anymore. As much as I hope someone out there can relate to these thoughts, I’m okay if this post was just for my own reflecting.

Letter to Dr. Duncan

2009-08-28T06:47:00.000-07:00

I just wrote this letter to my mentor Professor, Dr. Duncan. After writing it I thought, "This would make a good update on the research for the blog." So, here it is.

Hey Dr. Duncan,

I'm not sure if you'll be able to reach me today or not (I'll be flying to Curacao for the weekend!) and I don't know if my phone will work there or not. Let me tell you how it has gone this week.

Miraculously we didn't have to cancel any groups this week. We had 3 people at the cohabiting men's group, 3 at the cohabiting women's group, and THIRTEEN professionals last night. (It was a mad house!! In a good way...) Hasette and I have been doing constant recruiting...it has become my full time job! But I think it will work. We've got 3 tough groups to fill for next week--people expecting their first child, and men in their first year of marriage. They're all groups we had to cancel previously. So, pray that the people who we are contacting will come. I went to the midwife doctor's office this week and he called a couple of people for me and then gave me their numbers. And then a couple people who have been in focus groups have been kind enough to refer people.

A couple of questions:

1) what about people who don't want to take the money? Some of them just don't want to take it. That's fine, right? Or are we breaking some sort of ethical research law? Will the IRB come get me in the night?

2) what happens when people attend the wrong focus group? For example, in the single women's group we had a girl come who was engaged. Can I take her comments and move them into the transcription for the appropriate group? It's happened a couple of times.

That's all that comes to mind presently. Hasette is doing better. He's figured out that if we finish the questions on time, he usually has a bit of extra time to talk MARRIAGE ENCOUNTER!!! with his captive audience. With the men's group we ended at 8:40; but don't worry, the remaining 20 minutes we had a live infomercial on Marriage Encounter. :) Hey, I don't mind. As long as it's after the questions are over. That was one funny thing in the focus group last night. A large chunk of them work with Hasette in the family organization he is the PResident of. So, when we asked what resources are available, they all said (in unison), "Pro Famia Feliz!!" And then they kept talking about how great it was. Finally, Brother Buckley asked, "Is this a propaganda?" Hasette smiled and said, "Yes." But then they talked about some other resources. The government has a branch dedicated to family stuff...it just seems like no one knows about it. Hasette didn't even know about it. How crazy is that?! Don't you think the President of a family organization on the island would know about the government's family department? Anyway, there was a marriage and family therapist (I didn't know those existed in Aruba!!) at the group last night, and she works for Aruba's family/couple department. I have an appointment to meet with her before I leave just to chat about her work.

So, things are going well. I'm feeling very grateful for my experience here. Honestly, I don't really want to leave. Hasette introduced me at the focus group last night and suggested to everyone there that they should pray I find an Arubian husband so I can stay and work for families on the island. Haha!! It'll be exciting to put this all together when I get back, though. I do look forward to that. Well, we'll be in touch. Hope you're doing well. Say hi to Barbara for me.

Cammie

Beck the Dog

2009-08-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

When I had been a missionary in Aruba for a few months, Brother Buckley began to say, "How you, Beck?" whenever he saw me. I was pleased that we had reached the level of name-shortening. Yes, it is generally protocol to address missionaries with their title (Elder or Sister) and their full last name, but I was nonetheless proud that somehow I had gained this level of rapport with him. I didn't notice that his greeting was often accompanied by a sly grin.

One day, Brother Buckley asked me if I understood any Dutch. (Aruba makes up part of the Dutch Caribbean, and most people here are fluent in Dutch.) When I told him I didn't, he smiled and said, "That's good, Sis."

Another day, Brother Buckley greeted me as usual: "How you, Beck?" He chuckled, and then told me that the phrase "How you Beck" sounds just like a Dutch phrase that means, "Shut your mouth," or literally, "Shut your beak." (Beck--however it's actually spelled in Dutch--equals 'beak'). We both laughed (despite the fact I had just learned that what I thought to be a term of endearment was actually more like something you say to your obnoxious parrot). It became a running joke. Whenever he how-you-becked me, I usually responded by how-you-becking him back. When I went home, this favorite phrase became the subject line for our occasional emails.

Two weeks ago, I was there at Church when the Cardenas family asked Brother Buckley if he wanted one of their little Husky puppies. He accepted, and when they asked what he thought he would name it he smiled and said, "Beck."

I grew attached to little Beck over the next couple of weeks. She was a cute little puppy who always seemed so excited to see me when I came home to the apartment or got up in the morning.

Last week, Beck suddenly became ill. She didn't move around like before, in fact, she didn't move much at all. And she stopped eating her food. It was decided, unbeknown to me, that she had swallowed a chicken bone which was lodged between her ribs. She was taken to the vet and put to sleep, also unbeknown to me. Brother Buckley, who had put Beck "on the other side of the house" finally stopped lying to me last night when I asked him how Beck was doing. Little Beck, we will miss you.

The Wise Man and the Foolish Man...REVAMPED

2009-08-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

Check out this song. It's got bits of our Church's Primary song, The Wise Man and the Foolish Man, so listen for that. This lady's name is June Bayley, and I was at her house with the sister missionaries the other day when she busted out this song. Pretty cool, eh?

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/audio/play/80731328/

Chinese Food

2009-08-23T06:18:00.000-07:00

Last night we went to a really nice, authentic (as if I would know) Chinese restaurant. We brought Sherman's dad, Mr. Lee, who was born in Hong Kong. He ordered all the food for us, and our table had one of those cool spinny wheel thingies in the middle so you just put the food there and everyone takes what they want. We had roast duck, this humongous fish (which was still very much intact...eyeballs and everything), calimari, sweet and sour ribs, soup, and rice. Wow...it was delicious.

I sat next to Gerda, a delightful woman originally from Suriname. She's a nurse here on the island. Kind of quiet, but when you get her to talk or laugh you find out she's a real gem. Anyway, we sat together and made up the more quiet side of the table. After our several-course meal and a couple of hours of good conversation and freezing air-co blowing like crazy, I was about tuckered out. As a final course, the server brought out a plate of orange wedges. You know, like the kind you get at halftime when you're playing soccer.

Just as the oranges came out, the conversation took a new turn: politics. The men at the table, Brother Buckley, Mr. Lee, and senior missionary Elder Pietz really took off. They talked about wars and rumors of wars, the economy, health care, you name it. Sister Pietz, Gerda, and myself looked at each other and settled in for what we knew could be a long time...minutes, hours, days? We just knew it would be long.

So we started eating the oranges. The great thing was, the men didn't even seem to notice (or care) that the oranges were there. We women each took an orange wedge, and whirled the Lazy Susan around so each of the men could have taken an orange if they'd wanted to. Then when the still-nearly-full plate reached us again, we each took another. We thought we were pretty funny. Pretty soon we had whirled the Lazy Susan around enough times that there was only one orange slice left on the plate. Gerda said, laughing, "We'll save that one for them."

The conversation lagged on. Soon all I could think of was my need to sleep. Either at home or in public, somehow I just had to sleep. I put my head down on the table and actually managed to break the sound of politic talk just long enough for Brother Buckley to ask me if I was sick. "No," I replied, "just tired."

"Oh," he said, clearly quite relieved. And the conversation continued. I felt bad that putting my head on the table had drawn this kind of unwarranted worry, so I sat up again.

Finally, after listening to more of the never-ending debate--statistics and extreme right-wing opinions from Elder Pietz, devil's advocate-type questions from Brother Buckley, and Chinese proverb-sounding wisdom from Mr. Lee, Gerda looked and me with mischievous eyes and said, "Let's do it again. Heads on the table." So we did, laughing at our own cleverness. Brother Buckley was immediately awakened to our call for respite, and he stood up, the others unconsciously following his cue. And just like that, we were back out into the pleasantly warm island air, where we snapped these photos. Also included are photos of the feast.

Tribute to William G. Buckley

2009-08-20T06:24:00.000-07:00

Doesn't it seem like wherever you are, someone is there to see to it that you're alright, that you're taken care of? I'm pretty sure God puts people like that in our lives.

Bill Buckley has been one of those people for me since I've been here. Not only does he call me periodically to make sure I'm safe, have food to eat, can get where I need to go, etc., he has provided a much-needed listening ear when I've needed it.

He has a way of making me laugh and feel better when I'm stressed out. One day when I was at breaking point because of someone I was having difficulty working with, he said to me, "Just remember. I used to ride to school on one of those small school buses. There was always a seat missing. I bet it belonged to X, who always probably missed the bus." Which made me laugh. And then he reminded me that while this other person didn't understand as well as I did what I wanted to see accomplished in the work I am doing, I might try pitying this person rather than myself, or rather than being angry with the person.

Another thing he likes to tell me is, "There are two things you need to remember. Number one: Stuff happens. And number two: Things takes time." (Yes, things TAKES time...that was not a typo). Anyway, his advice usually makes me laugh, but then I get to thinking about what it really means, and what I might learn from it.

When Bill Buckley walks into a room or joins a group of people, he often calls out, "Isn't life WONDERFUL?" as a sort of greeting. He has a way of lifting people up wherever he goes. He serves as Branch President of the San Nicolas branch of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He is constantly serving members of the branch and members of the community who need his help. He is an example to me of Christlike service and the importance of maintaining perspective when things get tough.

A Proposal, and Windsurfing Lessons

2009-08-19T07:08:00.000-07:00

The other day, a black, English-speaking man (originally from St. Maarten) suggested we get married. I was getting my bike tire fixed at this po-dunk house with a tire in front of it that said, "Chubby's tire service." All three of them working there were skin and bones, but I found out Chubby was a dead uncle of the current owner. Anyway, they said, "We thought you was the Mormons!" I guess because I'm white, and ride a bike? Anyway, I said, "Oh. Well, actually I am. I used to be a missionary, but now I'm just here visiting." Then they wanted to know what I was doing, and I told them a little about the study. I said it was about marriage, and the one, whose name I found out later, is Michael, said, "Ah you mahhried?" (think Cool Runnings accent). I said, "No." He said, "Is you lookin'?" I said, "Um...yeah." He said, "Me too. Let's stop lookin'." I laughed...and invited him to the focus group for never-married men. And he came!! Hooray for research!

I also made friends with the Jamaican neighbor, who happens to teach windsurfing, which is where you have a giant sail connected to your surf board. And he said he would teach me...for FREE!! So we went to town yesterday, to one of the nice beaches at the hotels, and he taught me (kind of)...except mostly his English is hard for me to understand and I can't figure out what he's talking about. The "lesson" went something like this:

Bob: Okay...get up there.
Me, trying to climb up the board and falling off: Um...like this?
Bob: Yeah...just get yo' butt up deh.
Me: OKay I'm up
Bob: Okay now you pull deh sail up...ready, ONE, TWO, THREE (which I wasn't sure if he meant 3 pulls to get it up, or if he was counting to three and then I was supposed to pull it up in one giant heave)
Bob: Okay...find deh wind. Where's deh wind? The wind's ovah deh. You see deh wind?
Me: What do you mean? How are you supposed to see the wind?
Bob: You does see which way deh wind is blowin'. You does see it?
Me: Uh...yeah.
Bob: Okay. Now when you does see the wind you does always go with deh wind. You understand?
Me: Uh...yeah.
Bob: OKay. You does just go like this...

And then he took off. I got going for a little while, but then I turned around and realized I was way out at sea. And then I couldn't get back on because I couldn't figure out which way the wind wanted to blow me. And everytime I got back on I just fell off again. Over, and over, and over. And then the rescue boat with these two Arubian guys came out to pick me up, and I was embarrassed, so I told them I was fine. But then they came back like 15 minutes later, and they were like, "C'mon, get in." So I did. And they took me back to shore. And they were talking to each other a lot in Papiamento, and I could understand them of course...and the rough translation of what they were saying was, "Holy cow, she was way the heck out there."

We became friends though, the rescue boat drivers and I. After a while they asked me if I understood Papiamento and when I answered them back in Papiamento, their eyes got really big and they looked as if I had just told them I was the president of the United States. And then they asked if I wanted to go fishing with them. So I stayed on the boat, and we sailed out to sea, and they fished, and we talked. And then when we came back to shore, they asked if I wanted to kayak. So we did. It was so fun, speaking (and mostly listening to) Papiamento, and just being in the sun, on the ocean, with people who had so kindly rescued me from the hazards of windsurfing...

Research in Aruba

2009-08-10T08:53:00.001-07:00

Some people have asked me what it is exactly that I'm researching here in Aruba. So...here goes. We're trying to learn how to improve and/or create marrige education that would be specifically targeted to Arubans' needs. We are conducting focus group research, which means we gather together a smallish group of people, say, women married 7 years or more, or men in their first year of marriage. There are 11 different groups in all. They come, and 14 questions are asked, and everyone is given the chance to respond. They are questions like, "What concerns do you have about marriage?", and "What resources would you use to strengthen your marriage if they were available?" and "What would be the most convenient way for you to access these resources?" etc. Eventually we'll be able to pass the information on to people who care, so they can use it to improve what they've got going on here. Or...they might need me to come back and help them start a new program! Haha...that's more like wishful thinking. But actually, there is a possibility I could come back as a graduate student, either helping them to implement, or doing further research. That seems pretty far-fetched, but it is a possibility. Meanwhile, I'm loving it here and good things are happening.

Bon Dia

2009-08-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

Bon Dia!

Here I am, at one of the old internet cafes I used to frequent some P-days as a missionary. I'm attaching some pictures of my time so far in Aruba. The picture of the bike is from the first couple of days I got here, when I first rode to the beach. That was a happy accomplishment. And the sweaty me is after riding my bike to said beach. You'll also see a picture of the Duncans and I, (we're the white ones), and President Buckley and Brother Daniel Henriette, waiting for the water show to start on the ritzy side of the island (which is not OUR side of the island). And, there's a picture of myself with Allesandro, someone I taught as a missionary. He left for Holland to study less than a week after I arrived, but it was wonderful to see him and his family. Life is good!

There's a Crab in My Flipper

2009-08-10T08:20:00.000-07:00

Taylor's Home

2009-07-07T11:33:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this is my 3rd post for the day, and a testament to the importance of keeping this bloggy thing updated more regularly if I'm to avoid playing catch up later.

Anyhoo, I couldn't not talk about the fact that my brother, Taylor, IS HOME FROM HIS MISSION!! We went almost 3 years without seeing each other, since he left on his mission while I was on mine. Wow, it was so great to be there at the airport to meet him. He's just as cool as I ever remembered...and actually, cooler because he speaks Spanish now. We spent the first night after he got home playing songs we've written on the guitar, most of which are autobiographical and led to some great conversation of the catching-up sort.

Moab!!

2009-07-07T11:31:00.001-07:00

Summery Tales

2009-07-07T11:04:00.000-07:00

Here I am for my er, quarterly update.

I'll try to attach some pictures of the highlights.

1) Triathlon training. This Saturday, I will participate in my first triathlon--ever. I am half scared out of my mind, and half excited. I swam the full distance for the swim portion for the first time yesterday, and did it again today. It's a sprint triathlon, so it's just a 1/2 mile swim, but there was a point (yesterday before I swam it, actually), when I thought that distance would kill me. But now that I've done it twice, I feel a lot better about Saturday. Tack on a 10 mile bike ride and a 5K run, and I'm there! Yeah! I feel so hard core.

2) The mental hospital. No, I was not instated. I started teaching piano lessons there for volunteer hours for a psychology class, but I have loved it so much that I've kept doing it. I have just one student, and he is great. Tonight I am going to a talent show he will be playing at. I am so proud! Funny story, though. So, the other week I asked him about a book he carries around sometimes called "The Art of Power." He informed me that it was a tai chi book, with instructions on how to do the different poses and things. I was intrigued, so I asked him some more questions, and then he said, "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Well," I thought, "why not?"

So, there I was, in what I thought to be a pretty private setting. In the group room in this particular wing of the state hospital, with my piano student, doing tai chi. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later I realized the possibility of having been observed. I came for a lesson, and the desk attendant wasn't sure where my student was. I said, "Maybe he's in the group room already, practicing."

"Nope," he said, "I can see the camera right here and he's not in there."

Doh! Oh well...I hope someone got a smile out of watching our piano lesson-turned-tai chi lesson that day. :)

3) Tennis Intramurals. I played in BYU's mixed doubles intramurals a few weeks ago with a good friend, Craig Estep. And we won! It was awesome. I was pretty surprised when they put us in the top division, and I figured we'd meet some pretty stiff competition. But, well...we didn't really. I mean, we only had to play 3 matches to win the championship, and two of those matches were against the same team. But anyway, that's not the point. It was great, and glorious, and I've got a shirt now. I guess there's nothing else holding me back from graduating, now.

Goodbye, Missionaries!

2009-03-06T13:28:00.000-08:00

Well, another group of missionaries has come and gone. These ones are headed for Mexico: some to Hermosillo, and some to Leon. They will be wonderful missionaries. I really have grown to love them, and I hated saying goodbye! They have great things ahead of 'em, though.

Oh boy, oh boy!!

2009-02-12T10:10:00.000-08:00

I'm SO excited. Here's why: Last semester I applied for something called an ORCA grant. It's where you work with a professor to write a proposal for a research project you would like to do. My project involves going to ARUBA and conducting focus groups to find out current needs and preferences for marriage education there. About 1/3 of applicants are awarded the $1500 to work on their projects. And on Monday, the email came, and I got it!! I'm going to Aruba, baby!! I'll leave in July, and be there for about 6 weeks. I'm probably going to miss my own graduation. SO WORTH IT!!! I'm going to visit everyone I LOVE there, and learn how to KITE BOARD, and go to the BEACH regularly, buy AVOCADOS the size of my head, and drink fruit batidos. Oh yes, and I will research like no other. It's gonna be flippin' AMAZING. I guess I'm just really grateful they saw the good in my project because now I have the opportunity to do something that I feel can make a difference, and I get to do it in one of the most beautiful places on earth. :)

Life Dreams

2009-01-04T22:54:00.001-08:00

Christmases Past...these are in no particular order. Enjoy!

2008-12-24T15:31:00.000-08:00

in our pj's Grandma and Grandpa Davis sent us...Christmas '05

angels in the Christmas Eve pageant...'05

Joseph, Mary, and the baby '05?

Joseph--sobered, perhaps, by the weight of his calling?

my best friend Maggie sent me this shirt from her mission in San Diego. I was in Puerto Rico. Christmas '07

Christmas '03. Santa brought me a guitar!

in Puerto Rico on my mission with Hermana Obando. Christmas morning, '07. I kinda look like a boy with that short hair, huh. Yuck

Christmas before going to BYU. '02

Hmmmm...maybe Christmas of '01 or '02? Joseph looks a lot happier than he does in '05, doesn't he. Little cuties.

I love Mexicans

2008-12-23T12:30:00.000-08:00

I love Mexicans. On Friday night I went to the Christmas party for the Spanish branch of my church--the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have a friend there; her name is Mari and she is married with 4 kids. Our conversations have probably totalled about 2 hours, including a couple of encounters at my sparse visits to the Spanish worship services, my translating for her at a Cub Scouts' Pack Meeting, and a few phone calls back and forth while I've been away at school in Utah.

I guess I love Mexicans because they are so quick to love. Our American gestures of warmth and caring (a friendly wave, a firm handshake) pale in comparison with how some of the Mexicans I know just sort of overflow with love. Somehow with Mexicans I feel like you can skip right past the "casual acquaintances" stage; a few minutes together and you can reach Anne Shirley's "bosom friends" stage. It makes me happy.

Mari invited my little sister and I over for dinner tonight...I'm stoked for the food and the Spanish and the love. :)

Christmas Break

2008-12-21T17:08:00.000-08:00

I'm new to the world of blogging, but my 10 year-old brother created a blog today and inspired me to do the same.

I've come home for Christmas. A few funny things have been done/said.

Yesterday, my little sister Mary, who is 5, was overheard to threaten 7 year-old Mckay with something close to the following phrase: "If you _____, I will kick your butt." It was one of those unfortunate moments where the big people in the room stop talking just in time to hear or see the little people do something that will get them into trouble. My mom was fired up. (We don't like the 'b' word at my house). She said, "C'mon Mary, let's go wash your mouth out with soap." But before my mom could carry Mary off to the bathroom sink, she got distracted by something McKay was doing. Mary recognized her getaway. I saw her walk away quickly and call over her shoulder, "Don't worry, Mom, I'll wash my own mouth out with soap." That made me laugh. I'm pretty sure she wasn't really going to wash her own mouth out with soap. It must have seemed like a pretty logical way to get herself out of the punishment though--assuring Mom that the mouth-washing would be taken care of, that she could just rest easy and save herself a trip because Mary would do it herself. On the other hand, would she really wash her own mouth out with soap? Also a funny thought. Maybe she really believed it was dirty and felt compelled to wash it out. Imagine that.

Another funny thing was this morning as we crammed into the van to drive to church. We don't quite all fit in the van anymore. Emma (14) was sitting on Elise's (18) lap. Emma started whining and moving around and when told to calm herself down, she said in her whiniest voice, "But Mom, Elise just dug her knuckles into my ticklish spot!" to which Elise replied calmly, "That's because you just sat your ticklish spot on my knuckles." I thought it was a quick and witty rebuttal on Elise's part.