Wed.nes.day

Wednesdays are my favorite days.

Let me not forget that I do like 

Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and especially Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

I can't leave them out-

Sleep has been taunting my eye lids all morning long- 5:30 in the morning is awfully early to wake up. 

I was late for my first class, but I am having a wonderful hair day, I look cute and may I just add that it is Wednesday- my Happy Wednesday!

During a break between classes I found a empty couch in the Institute building- laid down and fell asleep. After waking up due to a kinked neck I looked around and noticed the room to be full of students, many of them writing in note books (journals). I hope I made it into some of their pages. . . I know I would have written about me - "the girl with the pink blazer slumped onto the couch as if she couldn't go any farther. Before long she wasn't moving anymore and the only sign of life was the soft whistle that came from her breathing. . . "

Is it vain to say that it completely makes my day when people sincerely tell me that I am beautiful. Every time I walk into my Monday/Wednesday Institute class my teacher shakes my hand and says in a very sincere, very reverent way that I am very beautiful. Today I told him that I am going on a mission and his eyes became soft and pleased. "You are so beautiful, everything about you. You are going to bring so many people to the truth." - Dear Elder C. you have given me hope, strength and have built me up in so many ways. Thank you.

I walked home from class - or rather I slid home from class. There is a steep grass slope outside my apartment and luckily for me I tested out its "slipperiness"factor. It gets high marks. In return I got grass marks! What makes this moment even more great is that an elderly man watched me and giggled under his breath!

I truly do love Wednesdays.

Wed-nes-day

Upstairs someone is play the accordion. I like it. Today is Wednesday - only Wednesday. School is back in session and I love it but as each day passes my heart beat grows a bit more heavy.

I am at loss for words to describe how I feel. The mission is always on my mind- most of the time it is disbelief that I am actually going and the rest of the time I jump from extremely excited to terrified. . .oh and I can't forget confusion.

You see as a girl I am not obligated to go on a mission. It isn't my responsibility and in all actuality I could turn back any time and it would be just fine. That scares me. And when fear of the unknown sets in I question my desires, my ability, and my strength to dedicate 18 months of my life to the people in San Jose, California. Not going taunts me.

Then I remember why I am going. I want to serve a mission because happiness is everything- but not just an instant happiness. I am talking about the eternal happiness that binds families together, the happiness that radiates light, love and truth. I want to share that with everyone I can. It is easy to feel my true desires when I am not being lured in by everything I will miss.

That being said.

It is Wednesday- I love Wednesday, but they make me homesick. Homesick for drives down a dirt road just to park on a bridge in the Middle. Homesick for picking sunflowers and porch swings. Wednesdays make me long for green grass, corn fields, surprise sprinklers and late night talks on the stairs.

A pretty girl on a mission.

I am currently enrolled in Mission Prep.

This is my third time taking a Mission Prep course- and hopefully my last. . . 

I hope that by this point I will be prepared enough.

I plan on going on a mission. I plan on starting my papers the moment I move home for the summer- and submitting them as soon as I can, meaning the first part of June.

That being said:

I joined the sea of students leaving campus after mission prep today and started my voyage home. It was raining and even though the sidewalk was littered with fellow Aggies I was alone and content. I hadn't quite made it half way yet when I heard someone call my name. At first I thought it was just my imagination, then I heard it again- this time it was closer. I turned around and a boy from my class had caught up with me.

I had never seen this boy on my walk home before, but I was pleased to see him. 

We have been taking the same mission prep class for whole last semester and despite the few times we had been partnered up I had never really talked to him. But he was always very nice, and he always had good comments.

As we walked he turned to me and ask, "Are you really planning on going on a mission?"

Now, I have gotten lots of mission questions- so I wasn't quite sure where he was going with this.

"Yes-"

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Oh, never mind- I was just wondering."

I was not going to let him get away with that so quickly, I prodded.

He finally gave in, "Well, pretty girls usually don't go on missions - that's all."

Now, that was not the answer I was expecting, but at the same time I was flattered. 

Soon after that we split ways and I was left to walk the rest of the way home alone. As I walked I laughed to myself. I was flattered, completely flattered- but at the same time I evaluated his statement over and over in my mind.

"Pretty girls usually don't go on missions."

All the sister missionaries I know are gorgeous women. At the same time though, in the Latter-day Saint culture it is common for young women to get married before the age of missionary accountability. Meaning that the only ones to make it to missionary-age would be those who are "less-desirable" if you will. But that can't be true. . . Unless- I'm not desirable. 

I have decided now that it is my duty to defy the odds. 

To all my Sisters in and out of the Field- You are beautiful.

"I like your bread"

source

I have decided that I need to write a blog and dedicate it entirely to the Aggie Blue Bus- so many eventful, entertaining, story worthy things happen on the many bus rides to and from campus.

Wednesday - I was on my way to yoga.

The regulars stood in line some look as if they had just woken up, complete with swollen eyes and plaid pajama pants. There was a tall girl with long blonde hair who was eating a piece of toast - she was the only one I didn't recognize.

Right on que the bus pulled in and we filed in.

It was early and once again there were only a few of us on the bus. . . I have decided the fewer people there are the more awkward/entertaining the short ride to campus gets.

Everyone had sat down and the driver was ready to pull out when a man came running around the corner and chased down the bus. He was a small-featured man who was a whopping 5'5''. He wore glasses and wore green pants, a green shirt and carried a cargo green messenger bag.

He sat down a few seats away from me and across from the tall blonde with the toast.nMind you, this blonde- she was cute and I could see the green-man "observing" the situation.

"Is that Grandma Sycamore bread?" he said.

My heart sunk. . . Really- out of all the pick-up lines in the world you are going to hit on this girl by asking her what kind of bread she is eating. . .

The blonde looked around confused and not sure how to respond.

"Um. Yes," she quietly answered.

I don't know what else the poor girl could have said.

"I love Grandma Sycamore bread," he eagerly pushed on the bread issued, "But, it is so-o-o-o expensive."

Inside I was laughing. I wasn't quite sure if he was hitting on the blonde or Grandma Sycamore.

"Yep, but it is on sell at Lee's," she was a sweet blonde.

"And you are eating it with jam, oh so good," he had suddenly flipped his focus from the bread to the jam. . . and at this point I wasn't sure if he was hitting on the girl or wanting her to share her breakfast with him.

"Yep," she started looking out the window and realized that we had almost made it to campus.

The bus stopped.

The door opened and that girl was off the bus before I had even stood up. . .

"I hope you like your Grandma Sycamore bread with jam!" the man in green called after her.

Under his breath I could hear him murmuring something about bread. . .

I wonder if she will ever again eat breakfast on the go - or at least take it with her on the bus.

It was a lovely morning.

. . . . only in a dominate LDS college community .

A humble happiness

I sat in the institute today between classes to work on an article for my news journalism class. A group of four special needs students came into the study. Three of them sat down and the fourth, a woman probably in her early forties, walked over to the piano that is open for students who want to play uplifting music for everyone in the study to enjoy. This lovely woman calmingly sat down at the bench and released the sheet music that was pressed up against her chest. She gently separated the two pieces of paper and placed them on the stand. For a moment the lady looked at her hands and then the keys, studying the ivories. Then she started to thump out the notes to simple hymns. It wasn’t smooth, but the sincerity that went into the music filled the room with a spirit of complete happiness, a humble happiness.

Have a Happy Wednesday.

Owls.

I don't have very good history with birds.

They seem to poop on my head.

. . . or in my eye.

Yep, they don't like me.

But owls are an exception-

at least they are now.

Love Story

The title maybe a bit of a disclaimer. 

I mean, this very well could be a love story, but who is to say one way or another.  

Maybe one day it will be written down, but for now this is all there is.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

I want to tell the world about love and how it makes your heart burn

. . . a heart burn that even TUMS can't cure.

I want to tell about the pounding in my chest and about the smile that I can't wipe off my face, 

even with post wisdom teeth cheeks.

I want to dance around in circles as fast as I can just lie on the grass and watch the sky spin around me

. . . and for a moment it will seem as if time has stopped.

I want to tell about Happy Wednesdays

I want to tell about rocks on my widow late at night 

and bouquets of self-picked garden flowers, wrapped in twine.

I know some of you would swoon over hikes up the canyon,

eating a candle-lit dinner in a corn field,

meetings that last for 30 seconds- 30 seconds of complete joy.

I tell about the significance of pillows- lots of them.

I would tell you why this song makes me happy and why Bryan Ragan makes me laugh.

I admit getting porch lights flashed at me and being late for curfew.

I want to tell how it feels to be vulnerable.

I want to share the fear and hope I have in each breath.

I want to admit that I tried my hardest to ignore my strongest desire

I want to tell about April snow storms at the park.

I would include forehead kisses, holding hands, and white jumpsuits.

I want to write about patterns cut into lawn,

and about tears on my face that don't belong to me.

I want to make mention that all hasn't been easy

or simple and marvelous, sometimes pain was felt.

Heart aches happen, healing takes time.

Sorry is a valuable word, and when used sincerely can change perspective.

Maybe someday I will write this love story. . .

BUT 

today I can't.

I am sorry, I physically just can't do it.

It will make me cry, again.

I am moving,

going back to Logan.

I love Logan and I love everyone in Logan.

However,

moving means I am leaving here.

My home.

My family, all those I love.

My summer- oh, how good it has been to me.

I don't like saying goodbye.

                      xoxo,

                         Kels

It's Friday, I know. . .

. . . but, HAPPY WEDNESDAY!


Check Out: Miss Dawn's Simply Marvelous Life!

Dear Thursday:

Dear Thursday,
I think you are great.  Even though last night I had dreams of tornados- continuously tossing and turning.  Today I am going to treat you well because you have given me the opportunity of today- a day that can never be re-lived.  There will only be one Thursday like you, and you will never be replaced!
So, thank you for sharing your lovely blue sky and nice weather with me- it is simply perfect!

Cheers,
Kels

I usually wish people Happy Wednesdays, for various reasons, but today is Thursday and Marvelous-
I don't want to still Wednesday's thunder, so for today I am wishing you all a Jolly Thursday!

I am off to work now!  I get to go paint my pool!  I am truly excited- no sarcasm included, I am being dead serious right now!