He held me, though I was the enemy.

He looked at me, but it didn't feel like me.
I was the enemy, I was the bad guy, I felt like the disgusting vermin who one chases around with the broom. That is the look he gave me- that was the look I deserved.

His eyes never met mine, at least not in that moment and if they had I couldn't catch them with my own. Instead it was if I was watching this scene play out before me. And inside my heart had stopped. It still stops when the memory rushes threw my body and makes my blood pump cold.

"Is everyone OK?" I frantically asked.

Then I began to shake. I leaned up against the cement barrier and slid down the side until I was sitting on the ground.

"I am sorry."

I cried.

"I am sorry."

I shook.

"Is everyone OK? I am so sorry."

The river of cars in front of me was the only thing that didn't stop in that moment. I watched the blurs of color which I know to be vehicles pass and I felt dizzy- sick almost.

"I am sorry."

I still continued to shake.

A man, a different man. A man with a long dark beard and a pony-tale kneeled down next to me and grabbed my hand. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I am fine. Are they OK? Is everyone OK? I am sorry."

I held onto him, that was all I could do. His voice was calm. His voice gave me reassurance. Then I saw the damage and my everything stopped again. Everything but the river, nothing stops it- well, except itself.

The bearded man now had a woman by him- they had been traveling together. And as I continued to sob they both tried to comfort me and keep me from going into shock. I have been trained to know how to handle situations like this- I knew exactly why they were play 20 Questions with me. I felt vulnerable and incapable, but I knew I needed them. I needed to settle my heart down.

"I am sorry."

I need to call my mom. I need her. I need my mom. Panic set in. What am I suppose to do?

My cellphone was in my back pocket and after three attempts of dialing Mom's number she answered.
And just like a child when I heard her voice my body convulsed with shaking, tears streamed down my face and my breathing became short and sharp.

"Kels, what is wrong? Are you OK? Are they OK?"

"Mom, I am sorry. I am so sorry."

"I am coming."

I dropped my phone to the ground, pulled my knees to my chest and shook my head. Sorry.

"Don't worry, everyone is fine. Cops are on their way and we will get this taken care of. Everything will be OK," the bearded man's name was Dan and his lady friend was Kristen. I remember thinking when I first saw her that she was very beautiful. And I tried to slow down my breathing.

Cops. I have never been more happy to see two police officers in my life.

Strength flooded my body as I stood to greet them. I was suddenly able to gather my composure and be strong. I knew the only way they could help me was for me to be as corporative as possible. I felt almost like a child who runs up to a parent crying because the child know the parent can help, however the parent can only do so much unless the child communicates the problem or issue. I had to be tough, speak clearly and do the best I could to help them help us.

Composure. At least for a moment. My motivation was the paperwork that was now on a clipboard and in my hand. I couldn't cry because crying obscured my vision and I need to see to be able to fill out the pages of information to help the cops.

Then I saw them get out. The family of four. The beautiful family who was on their way to the Brigham City open house and I had ruined it. I was the bad guy, the impostor, the villain, the antagonist. Tears pooled in my eyes and I was conflict whether or not to stay in my car or run and embrace them. Embrace them for the blessing of their safety, for the love I had for each of them and for the hope that maybe they could forgive me of my trespasses.

The cop came to my door and I gave him my information as I watched the family huddle together from the corner of my eye. I wanted to be their with them, I wanted to let them know how sorry I was. I want the strength that families bring- even if this one wasn't my own.

But I stayed in my car. I was the villain. I didn't deserve to impose more than I already had. I wanted to run away and hide, but I couldn't. Instead just watched them. I watched them embrace and hold each other close. I watched the way the father lead his wife and daughter to the cab of a tow truck and place them safely inside. I watched how the father gripped the son's shoulder and looked at him with honor and love.

And to think I could have taken this all away. I began to cry again. This time the tears fell silently. All I could do now was pray.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His name was Dillon. He handed me a Ogden Autobody card and proceeded to tell me the play-by-play of what will happen next. Dillon lead me to the cab of their tow truck, but as I passed the father and the son I turned to them and said I am sorry yet another time.

The father looked at me. He really looked at me this time and tears filled my eyes. I felt charity through his eyes. Charity and compassion and forgiveness. He held pulled me into a hug and held me.

"We are OK. Everything will be OK."

Dillon was waiting for me at the tow truck. I said goodbye to the man and his son and pulled myself in.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Saturday at approximately 4:15 PM I got in a car accident on the freeway near Ogden. I had been in Salt Lake all morning at my cousin's bridal shower and was on my way back up to Logan for the weekend and to get ready for school to start that coming Monday.

I often hear people say that when something drastic happens it is as if time is put into slow motion, but I disagree. It all happened so fast. Everything is as if it was a blur. Unreal- even now, until the scene flashes through my mind again and my heart stops, my body grows tense and starts to shake. Oh, and the fact that the Durango isn't parked outside my apartment.

I haven't driven since. I will, just not yet. I am fine just to be the passenger for a while.

Gratitude and humility have over come me and for that I am thankful.

My life is filled with so many blessings.

Locked in - a suffocating thought.

It is one thing to be locked out, but to be locked in - now that is a suffocating thought.

The rush for lost time slapped me in the face with panic. I can't be late for class during the first week of school, besides that I live a ten-minute walk from campus and it is the middle of the day. There is no reason for me to be late. . .

I grabbed my backpack, checked the contents and hoped for the best. To be honest I had know clue what I needed for class.

The whole apartment shook as I ran down the stairs. . . I am not calling myself fat - I live in an old building, they shake and make funny noises when anyone moves - trust me.

I ripped my coat out of the closet, slipped my arms into their designated holes and proceeded to the door.

I grabbed the chilled doorknob, twisted it, and pulled it towards me - it didn't move.

"Why would someone deadbolt the door in the middle of the afternoon?" 

I twisted the latch a few times, but it hadn't been locked.

Once again I grabbed the doorknob, twisted it, pulled it towards me and nothing. 

Working at the Salina City Pool for the past few summers I have become a professional door-opener. I proceed to shake the doorknob in an attempt to wiggle the door free from the grasp of its frame. First I shook it softly, then a bit more rough until I found myself breaking out into a sweat and realizing that I wasn't shaking the knob, but more-or-less it was me moving back and forth. . . the door hadn't budged.

But still I wasn't worried. I was going to master this door. After-all it is a piece of aluminum and I am a living, breathing being who is currently on her way to school. SCHOOL. I needed to open this door and fast. 

I decided to take a different approach. Pushing-up against the door, twisting the doorknob and then pulling it open. I can't explain why or how this works, but it does I have done it in the past. And so with all my strength I pushed up against the door until my shoulder was throbbing, twisted the knob which by the way had now become quite warm and the pulled as hard as I could towards me. Nothing.

"I can't get out," yes I yelled this in my apartment and no one responded, "Is anyone home? I need help I can't get out of our house - Hello?" 

No response.

Panic. 

I now know what it feels like to be claustrophobic. 

I was suffocating in my own home.

"I can't get out! HELLO?" 

The house creaked. 

I had to get to class. 

Back to the door.

I placed one foot on the wall, grabbed the hot, sweaty doorknob and pulled. I only attempted this one other time nervous of the outcome if I were to get the door open. . . an image of me falling to the ground as the door breaks free and hits me in the crouch wasn't worth going to class. 

"What are you doing?" my roommate Ashly had been up stairs. 

I wasn't alone!

I wasn't going to die alone!

Yes, the thought of never being able to open the door and dying in the old apartment of mine had crossed my mind. 

"Ashly, I can't open the door. I have class. Help!" 

She laughed at me. 

"You can't open the door? Is it locked?" she laughed again.

These were both very logical questions to ask, but really - I can be kind of spacey sometimes, this is true - but of course I checked if it was locked.

"Help me," I was panicing.

Ashly grabbed the doorknob, twisted it and pulled, she pulled again and then again. Nothing. Ashly went through the whole process that I had previously gone over. The door didn't even budge. 

Welp, I wasn't going to die alone, but we were both going to die. . . We were locked in.

I broke down and started whining. 

"I have a cl-a-s-s, what am I going to do?" I will admit I was beginning to get hysterical.  

We played with the idea of having someone come and push from the outside, we even attempted to called our neighbors, but none of them answered.

"The window," Ashly looked determined, "Grab me a knife and I will pop-out the screen."

I did as I was told. After-all Ashly was my only hope.

"It is kind of a long way down," said Ashly, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"I will be okay," I was being driven by my motivation to get to class.

"Kelsie, there are stairs under this window - where are you going to land?" but even though she was concerned she continued to pull the screen out of the window.

At that very moment a couple who live fairly close to our apartment was walking across the lawn.

"Hey! Up here!" waving my hands back and forth I yelled, "We are stuck inside our apartment. Will you help us? Can you see me?!"

For a moment the two on the ground scanned the building and then spotted us. They both seemed a bit confused, but proceed in our direction.

It didn't take long for them to come billowing into our living room.

The door was open. 

I thanked them over and over. Praised Ashly and ran to class.

Happy Friday my dears.

Oh, and the reason the door wouldn't open was because of a dang Christmas light plug that got stuck in-between the frame and the door. . . That is a sign that it is time to take down the Christmas decorations.

My Monday Morning.

This story is so good it doesn't even need a picture.

The following is my Monday Morning Marvels- catchy isn't it? Well I hope you "marvel" at how cool I am after you read this lovely post of mine. It is great I promise.

(I will write it in chronological order just so you get a feel for my life on this most recent Monday morning)

5:52 a.m.

I finally got out of bed after snoozing my alarm once and taking what energy I had to get out of the warm covers that protect my body through the night. 

6:03 a.m.

Exercise- it was an elliptical day.

7:07 a.m.

Return home. Shower- if I didn't shower now I was going to have to wait in line. Besides the earlier I shower the longer my hair gets to dry and the less time I have to spend blow drying it- BONUS.

7:34 a.m.

Homework. 

9:00 a.m.

The process of getting cute began. My hair was curled, make-up done, and my outfit was complete with a scarf, skinny jeans and I wore my sexy-boots (mind you they don't have the best traction).

10:14 a.m.

I left my house.

An amazing morning, wouldn't you agree? well now my story begins:

As I walked down the stairs of my apartment I could hear the Aggie Shuttle Bus pull up to the bus stop. The air was brisk and the snow that was fluffy and fresh last night has turned slushy. Logan is cold in November. . .scratch that, Logan is cold all the time. And today was no exception.

The line at the bus stop was long like it is most Mondays at 10:15 a.m. When I saw this I slowed my pace down some. The road that the bus stop is on is up a small but steep hill from my apartment complex. It is one of those "landscape" hills that are put in for merely design purposes. I walk up this hill every morning when I catch the bus so I started my trek up the slope.

My first step was slippery, but I gracefully regained my balance.

I continued on. . .

Second step wasn't so smooth- The line feeding into the bus had about five people left. Slight panic set in.

Third step in my slick, sexy boots was fatal. (I maybe exaggerating with my word choice here because I didn't die, in fact I am still very much alive.) I went down on all fours, and I wasn't even half way up the hill yet.

Gaining traction I stood up but I didn't dare move fearful of returning to all fours. I scanned my surroundings. The line was now entirely on the bus, but not everyone was seated yet. I still had time. 

I stepped to my side. Back to all fours- at that moment I became the master at the downward facing dog. 

I couldn't stand up and progress up the hill. No matter what I did or how hard I tried I couldn't do it.

The bus driver was looking at me, and I could see a few passengers press their faces against the glass to see what the hold up was.

By this point all panic was gone and the only thing I cared about was dominating this hill. . . but yet I still hadn't made it half way.

I began "stink-buggin'" it. . . Yes, I stooped that low. I dug my fingers into the muddy ground that was beneath the slushy sheet of snow and did my best to shove the toe of my boots into the ground as well to keep me from sliding.

Almost to the top.

The ground was frozen here.

I started to slide.

The bus driver smiled, I couldn't help but laugh at my situation.

I slide farther backwards. 

Determination masked by desperation took over. I stretched out for the bus stop sign in a last attempt to save myself. I knew that if I couldn't reach it I would slide back down the hill and I would be defeated. But it was my only hope.

I dove low for the sign's pole. My fingers slid against it's metal surface, but I latched on. By this point I laid flat on the ground. I could feel the slushy snow seeping through my clothing.

I stood.

"Glad you could make it," the bus driver said. He smiled.

I laughed and thanked him as I entered the doors of the bus.

Then there was an applause.

The passengers who had witnessed the show outside the bus windows were also praising me.

So, I bowed. 

Marvelous morning, wouldn't you say?

"Screwed"

Sometimes driving over a screw happens causing tires to go flat.  It sure can put a puncture on things. . .

The Rango was hot from sitting in the sun all afternoon.  I stuck to the leather interior as I slide into the driver's seat.  I cranked my key in the starter bringing the Rango to life.  I turned up the AC, plugged in my Ipod and pulled my seatbelt across my lap- I was ready.  This is my "after work" routine.  I was off work and headed home.
I hadn't even made it out of the parking lot before the gas light flashed up on the console in front of me.  The my Primary lesson from Sunday, Parable of the Ten Virgins, flashed through my mind and I thought I better stop before I am stranded and too late to meet the Bridegroom.  There are three gas stations that I usually pass from the pool to my homestead, so I pulled into the third.  The only other vehicle at the gas station was a LAYS truck, dropping off potato chips I assume.  I swiped the plastic gas card, pushed the desired fuel button and started filling up my nearly empty Rango. . . and gee was it guzzling.  Not soon after a red car pulled up to the pump next to mine.  Nothing was said, but the connection of "hello" was made.  As I waited I read a few pages from my new book, The Help.
I have heard before the advice to look over your car every time you fuel up, I am sure it is a very smart thing to do, BUT I have never done that.  I come from a family of brothers and mechanics, many would and do infer that I too know a lot about engines. . . I don't- I know where the battery is, where the oil goes and how to trick-start the Saturn.  There was a older couple in the red car, the lady had walked inside and the man after starting to fuel up his engine expected his vehicle.  I really didn't think anything of it.  I was lost in my book and just wanting to go home and shower off my sunscreen body.
Soon enough the pump automatically stopped, I filled up just a little more to see if I could stop on a full dollar-  I always try to do this, I don't know why.  I grabbed my receipt and went through my "Rango-routine" once again.  As I started to pull away the man from the red car knocked on my window.  Easily I put the Rango into park and unrolled my window.
"Excuse me, but your tire is going flat."
This has never happened to me before, I don't know what to do.  I got out to over look the damage.  The man also observed the damage with me and soon pointed out that I had ran over a screw.  I thanked him multiple times and moved me car from the pumps and called my mom.  I didn't know what else to do and Mom always has the answers.

We ended up driving the Rango to the shop with it's flat tire only become flatter by the second.  My Daddy confirmed the damage and this morning already has it up and running.  He even washed the Rango.  I love my Dad.

Through this entire experience though I have been blessed by amazing people.  Firstly, the man from the red car.  He said something, he could have just let me leave, but instead he was watching out for me.  I mean just to be observant enough to notice opportunities to serve is an amazing characteristic.  Secondly, family both my mama and my papa.  My mama came to my rescue ready to comfort and to support me in all my travels.  Papa fixed it.  He makes everything better.  And as always he went above and beyond.  Not only did he fix my tire, but he also washed my car.
I am surrounded by angels.  I want to become an angel like them.

What am I getting myself into?

I am so glad that it is starting to feel like Spring. . . 

Even though it is suppose to SNOW on Saturday.

Joy! - I'm kidding.

Fear is the only thing I think about at this point.

Thoughts of my MARATHON to be creep into my mind constantly. . .

I am so nervous

and I have until September.

My body hurts already- 

I can only imagine what 26.2 miles will feel like.

what am I doing?

I will do this.

But it may not be pretty.

Summer is too can't come soon enough,

but on that same note I can't believe it is almost here.

College- Year one is almost complete.

Geeze.  So much has happened this year,

Who would have thought?

Happy PRE Conference 

and

TGIF!

Oh, and it is April Fool's today!  

(mischievous laughs!) 

What to do, what to do?

bahaha!

Running a Marathon. Like a real one.

Top of Utah Marathon

Ladys and Gentlemen. . .(clearing of the throat)

I am going to run a Marathon. . . Crazy? maybe just slightly.

When I moved up to Logan I got this urge to run a long race in my life time. . .  

Where it came from? I have no idea because I- HATED- RUNNING as an athlete in high school.

My friend "Cross-Fit Keni" told me that she was having these same urges to run!

I looked at her, wide-eyed (well as wide as my squinty little eyes get). and replied with, "ME TOO!"

At that moment we both knew that we were destined to be Marathon buddies!

Keni's goal was to run a Marathon by the time she was 25 years old- mind you she is only a year older than me- totally do able. . . Then Keni came back from the weekend break and said she was going to run the Top of Utah- THIS SEPTEMBER!  

With no hesitation I agreed.  

September 17, 2011 I am running a Marathon.

There is going to be lots of dedication involved. 

as well as:

Pain- mostly pain.

Time.

Life-style change.

-But hey it will be good right- 

I watched my friend Parker run in the Marathon last year.  

He kicked butt- and when he was done he basically died. . . I may just kill over-

Wish me luck- I have a long run ahead of me.


Did you know a Marathon is 26.2 miles?- just sayin'

Here goes nothing. Day 1.

Well here it goes- the "30 DAY BLOG CHALLENGE". . .
I don't know as if I really need this to spark any ideas or random thoughts that I have just waiting to escape this brain of mine, but hey what-the-heck I guess I will try it out and see how far I get with it!  Here goes nothing:


Day 1: A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself.

1. I have a "KISS" tongue- aka: a really long tongue.  I can touch my nose with it and the bottom of my chin, and when I stick it out just to show it off it curls on the end.

2. I LOVE birthdays.  I am super excited to grow old and to have the experiences of a life time.  I am excited live my life every new day and to start fresh with every morning just to enjoy every hour of the day that I have been given.

3. I have always been a "deep", "mature", "sensitive", "sincere" person- even as a child I would have deep thoughts and huge perspectives that I don't even understand.

4. When I see shooting stars I don't wish on them.  It started when I was little- a shooting star would fly across the sky, someone would tell me to make a wish- when I started to wish for something I would feel foolish and stop. . . then I would fold my arms and say the "wish" as a prayer.  Since then I have never "wished" on a shooting star again- but instead they are reminders for me to pray.

5. I love rough-housing and wrestling!  I get it from being raised by four older brothers I am sure of it!  I think I can handle my own and I am okay with that- I like to pounce on people play around being all sorts of wild and crazy!

6. I flirt. I flirt a lot.  I can't help it.  It causes me troubles sometimes. . . Oops!  sorry it is just my nature.  I don't really have a "personal-space bubble" that so many people talk about, I wish I did sometimes though.  However- flirting has its benefits too. . . It helps a girl to get what she wants. Sometimes.

7. I have an active conscience.  I am thankful I guess.

8. I went through an "ugly-awkward" stage that completely changed my life.  I was, in my mom's words, "a homely looking child."  She wasn't being mean- we were looking at some old pictures and we came across one where I had a bum-crack part, glasses, spacey teeth, chubby cheeks still, and my body was just unproportional- I was ginormous compared to everyone else in my class- in fact I have only grown one inch since sixth grade. . . This "ugliness" though humbled me and taught me to except people for who they truly are, not by how they look.  I am grateful for the "ugliness" I had, a blessing.

9. I have more guy friends than girl friends.  (Fact: guys are easier to talk to.  Myth: guys don't have any drama.)

10. I am a hairspray-aholic.  I love the smell, the sound, the way it makes my hair look.  It is an addiction that I will live with.

11. I was never allowed to wear sweatpants to school just because- I only could if it was a "pj day" or a team-sweatpant day.  School is a place for learning not for lounge, that's how I was raised and I like that modo.  My brother Bryan made me promise him that I would never go to school like I had just rolled out of bed.  It is very important to me to keep that promise- after all Bryan has always been a big example in my life.

12.  Sleep has always been on of my last priorities.  I am a night owl, but I love mornings too.  I know that sleep is very important and that without it my functioning skills suck, but in those hours that I am sleeping think of all the things I could be accomplishing.

13. I love to please people. . I guess that makes me a People-Pleaser. . . I know, I know,  I can't please everyone, but gosh dang I would sure like to try.  I love to see people happy.  I have been told over and over that it isn't possible but I would much rather hurt than cause someone pain or disappointment.

14. My nose looks just like my grandma's.  I love her and I love sharing her nose.  I am her favorite- she told me (You are probably thinking that she tells every grandchild that, but for reals I am her favorite. . ask her.)  Mom would say that my nose is turned up like a ski jump, then she would always run her fingers down my nose and jump them off the end of my nose- I would always laugh.  I have a different nose, but I love it.  My nose is cold right now- it is always the first thing to get cold.

15. I have no desire to be rebellious, nor have I have had that desire.  I guess that is interesting. . . most people want to do something illegal or rebellious, but not me.  I have always been the "teacher's pet"  "Molly Mormon" "Miss Goodie Two-Shoes"  It used to bug me, but I don't mind anymore.  I have standards and concerns, deal with it.

P.S. do you think I look like my grandma!