Anna and I had plans for this time around. Well, perhaps not so much plans, as expectations for a fantastic semester. Last semester turned out to be close to perfect--we all became a family, we were undeniably happy--and this semester seemed like it could only get better.
So far, January has taken all those expectations and smashed them to bits, then ground them into a fine powder to blow away in the icy wind.
My mother says it's just January. All January's are like this. I hope she's right. I think it's probably God's sense of humor. And all my fault.
And before I'm struck with lightning, I'll explain. I've been struggling with motivation to progress, lately. I haven't been doing anything wrong. I just haven't been doing everything right. I haven't wanted to progress, quite frankly, because that's more responsibility, more work. more time spent, more accountability, and more uncomfortable all around.
I was in church one day I don't even remember when someone mentioned praying for help in finding motivation to progress. Not just to "help me progress." So I did, because really I figured that is something I should do--for the mere fact that I didn't actually want to do it.
I must be extremely dense, however--because only through breaking my bones has the Lord been able to get through to me. And although it still hurts like a broken bone, yesterday I found myself being grateful. I am grateful I broke my foot. Right now I'm learning so much more about myself and those around me than I ever have before. I'm learning how to communicate, how to rely on people, how to trust them. How to let things go, and how to know my own limits. I'm learning about how kind people can be, and how chivalry is very much still a thing.
And as Anna and I are pulling ourselves forcefully out of the hole we've metaphorically fallen in (with the help and hands of many around us), I'm progressing. We've started roommate scripture reading and I can't believe how much I can learn just from talking with our little family about gospel principles. It's really quite amazing, and I hope we keep it up.
Well, that's my theory anyway. I prayed myself a broken foot. That, or, I broke my foot in a meaningless way playing a meaningless game and I was an idiot.
I'm gonna go with the first one.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
An Octopus of a Tale
Once there was a boy. And once there was a girl. And once she built an octopus out of clay. And once the window replacement people shattered it without a second glance.
This Octopus (or Ringo, as she calls it) had sat broken on a shelf in her apartment for an entire semester, waiting for his moment. The girl didn't know how to fix Ringo, and life got in the way of her goal to put Ringo back together again. When she left for home it was on the long list of things to do when she got back. In fact, she had plans to do it before the semester even started, and had the gorilla glue to prove it. Luckily for her, she had the surprise of her life waiting for her in her kitchen upon her return to her humble abode.
She walked into her apartment after a long, tiring voyage, and first relieved herself of her carry-on burdens (for the airport did not have her checked bags and would be sending them right off). The second order of business was to create a meal akin to one she'd never had before --a quesadilla, a delicacy among those of the collegiate lifestyle. Upon entering her kitchen she remained oblivious as her best friend looked on--only when she turned around did she notice, in the center of their grand table, a gift as could counter no other. A gift she only dreamed somebody else would give her, and never dared to hope would come true.
There, sitting unobtrusively on the kitchen table, was Ringo--topped with a big blue bow and as whole as could be.
Now back to the boy. The boy and girl were friends. Great friends, even. The boy made the girl laugh. The boy convinced her to join the VPLCT. The boy drove girl to the airport so she could fly home to her family for Christmas. Unbeknownst to her, he went back to her house and took the broken octopus parts to his home to fix. T'was no easy task, to be sure, for the octopus was in many different pieces, and an attempt to fix it had already been made by the girl with little success and poor results.
The girl stood in the center of her kitchen as her eyes welled up with tears. "Who did this??" she asked her best friend. "Ryan," she replied, and the girl was overcome.
The moral of the story is that I, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Ryan Hansen (and those who helped), for giving me back something that I truly love and worked so hard for. It means so much more now than it ever did. I couldn't have asked for a better friend.
This Octopus (or Ringo, as she calls it) had sat broken on a shelf in her apartment for an entire semester, waiting for his moment. The girl didn't know how to fix Ringo, and life got in the way of her goal to put Ringo back together again. When she left for home it was on the long list of things to do when she got back. In fact, she had plans to do it before the semester even started, and had the gorilla glue to prove it. Luckily for her, she had the surprise of her life waiting for her in her kitchen upon her return to her humble abode.
She walked into her apartment after a long, tiring voyage, and first relieved herself of her carry-on burdens (for the airport did not have her checked bags and would be sending them right off). The second order of business was to create a meal akin to one she'd never had before --a quesadilla, a delicacy among those of the collegiate lifestyle. Upon entering her kitchen she remained oblivious as her best friend looked on--only when she turned around did she notice, in the center of their grand table, a gift as could counter no other. A gift she only dreamed somebody else would give her, and never dared to hope would come true.
There, sitting unobtrusively on the kitchen table, was Ringo--topped with a big blue bow and as whole as could be.
Now back to the boy. The boy and girl were friends. Great friends, even. The boy made the girl laugh. The boy convinced her to join the VPLCT. The boy drove girl to the airport so she could fly home to her family for Christmas. Unbeknownst to her, he went back to her house and took the broken octopus parts to his home to fix. T'was no easy task, to be sure, for the octopus was in many different pieces, and an attempt to fix it had already been made by the girl with little success and poor results.
The girl stood in the center of her kitchen as her eyes welled up with tears. "Who did this??" she asked her best friend. "Ryan," she replied, and the girl was overcome.
The moral of the story is that I, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Ryan Hansen (and those who helped), for giving me back something that I truly love and worked so hard for. It means so much more now than it ever did. I couldn't have asked for a better friend.
Monday, January 21, 2013
St. George
Anna and I do a lot of things together. Then Anna blogs about them. This makes me not want to blog about them. So I'm stealing her blog, once again.
"Thanks to Martin Luther King Day, we had last Monday off from school. Three day weekends are an absolute joy to college students and a group of us took advantage of the extra day of rest. I believe it was on the Thursday afternoon before MLK Day that I received a text message from Becca saying we would be going to St. George for the long weekend; the friend of two of our good friends has a house there, or rather his family does. I agreed instantly at the time but later ran into a bit of trouble.
Come Friday I was all ready to go. I'd gotten people to cover my hours at work; my backpack was full of clothes; I'd picked out what to read for fun; I'd chosen what little homework to bring. But about 30 minutes before we were supposed to leave, I started to re-think my weekend. That was the trouble. Staying at home and relaxing was just so much easier than driving three hours to St. George that night. I suddenly had the great desire to be alone. Luckily, I have a group of persuasive friends who wouldn't let me stay in Provo when the sunny skies of St. George were so attainable.
And so I went, somewhat begrudgingly.
The drive down that night wasn't bad at all. Five of us journeyed south that night: Nathan, Trent, Erica, Wee Nathan and myself. (Yes, we had two Nathans on the trip. That became quite entertaining.) Wee Nathan and I talked a lot about football. We also watched "Get Smart," a movie I remember surprisingly well even though the last time I saw it was probably when it came out. The drive went by quickly and arriving in St. George felt great, mostly because the temperature was well above 30.
The next morning started out great. The night before we planned out our meals for the weekend and bought everything we needed. That meant a delicious breakfast of orange juice and french toast! Nathan made it for us and he did a fabulous job. We lounged around a lot that morning and afternoon. Both the Nathans, Trent and I eventually made our way outside to play volleyball. It was over 50 degrees that day and it felt spectacular. Going out in a long-sleeved tee and shorts seemed like a miracle. After a bit of volleyball, we just ended up lying in the grass talking. The only thing that drew us away from the sun was the thought of all the ice cream we had in the freezer. (Ice cream was on sale so they bought four half gallons. It was perhaps the best decision anyone made all weekend to buy all that.)
After the ice cream we played cards and some other board game I can't remember the name of. It was quite the competitive time, though. I felt quite good about myself as we played the card game scum on account of how during all but one round I was either in the top spot or the the 2nd spot.
Eventually we decided to break out all the bicycles. Trent was quite enamored with the tandem bike. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I rode a bike so the short ride to the park felt like a dream. Once at the park, we decided to test our disc golf skills. I'd played a fair few times before but my skills aren't all that enviable. I don't quite have the precision needed to putt in disc golf, at least from really close to the baskets. I can throw decently far and with general accuracy so that's what I ended up doing most on my team. However, it turns out I'm excellent at putting from mid-range. Put me within a few feet of the basket and I'm terrible, but put me more than 10 feet away and it's game over: I won't miss a shot. Disc golf is definitely a sport I could see myself really getting into.
Right when we came back from discing, Ben and Becca arrived! Once they were situated in the house, it was time to talk dinner. We ended up toasting some bread and making sandwiches but for people who didn't eat any lunch (Nathan, Erica, Trent, Nathan and myself) they were extra great. Once we'd had our fill, we actually just sat in the dark in the living room for quite some time. Eventually Trent roused all of us from our slightly comatose states, going on about how it was only 7 on a Friday night and we were in St. George and it wasn't freezing outside for once so we had better go out and actually do something. All seven of us climbed into the Honda Pilot and went for a little drive with no real destination in mind.
We ended up pulling into this parking lot that apparently led into some small park full of red rock; it was hard to tell because we only had a couple flashlights and we were away from the city lights. So we took a little hike, even with Becca in her broken state of a walking boot. It ended up being a great decision as we climbed up just a little bit and looked out over the city.
Once we returned from our little hike, we watched the movie "Secondhand Lions" and eventually everyone made their way to their respective rooms/couches to sleep.
Sunday morning all seven us were up and ready to go in enough time to make it to 11 o'clock church; this is what we planned to do so it was great. After that we went to the St. George temple and visitors' center. It was a lovely way to spend our Sunday afternoon and it was such a beautiful, sunny day.
All that walking around sure made us hungry, though. Immediately upon our arrival back at the house, we all changed and started making our late lunch/early dinner. For Sunday dinner we'd planned to make grilled chicken, mashed potatoes and some vegetable. Friday night after shopping the boys decided the chicken should be marinated so they concocted a marinade/sauce from a variety of things in the refrigerator. This included but was not limited to barbecue sauce, Arby's sauce and mustard.
The best thing to occur as we prepared dinner was the "dare" given to Ben by Nathan. He handed Ben half a head of garlic and said, "I'll give you a dollar if you eat that." And without hesitating, Ben popped that garlic into his mouth and started chewing despite great protest from Becca and me. While Becca was protesting the actual eating of the garlic, I yelled at Ben for doing such a thing for only a dollar; such a challenge was worth way more than that. He chewed that garlic for quite some time before it began burning his mouth and throat and he had to spit it out. Then he brushed his teeth a fair few times and according to him at least the first time he did it he "couldn't taste the toothpaste."
The rest of the dinner preparation went swimmingly and we sat down to a wonderful looking meal around 4 o'clock. Nathan did a marvelous job with the grilling and the boys' marinade turned out great, despite the fact that it had the most random of ingredients. We knew the food was good because we talked so little during that meal.
Following dinner it was time for another bike ride to disc golf. After all, Ben and Becca hadn't gone with us the day before. The teams were Nathan, Erica and Becca; Ben and Trent; Wee Nathan and myself. We were generally pretty even through all the holes until the last three of the second round we played. Wee Nathan and I dominated those last three holes. He threw off first, getting somewhat close to the holes but not close enough to be considered actual putting distance. From well over ten feet away on each of those holes I absolutely nailed it. It was kind of funny considering how at the beginning of the games I was quite vocal about how disc golf always frustrated me and I never could throw accurately. Then somehow I always managed to turn things around and throw the discs perfectly. When we got home Nathan (pictured below as the disc model) said he never wanted to play with me again unless I was on his team.
Following the disc golf, I'm not entirely sure what we did but eventually we watched the Ravens/Patriots AFC Championship game. And by "we" I mean both the Nathans and myself. Everyone else was there but a lot of people fell asleep. Oh, I'm pretty sure there was a bunch of shake making in between the time we got home and started watching the game. (We seriously ate so much ice cream on this trip.) Once the game was over and everyone was awake again we had to once again choose which movie we were going to watch. Sometimes it feels like we spent more time talking about which movie to watch than actually watching a movie. The Sunday pick ended up being Jurassic Park.
And so came Monday, the day we had to return to cold and wintry Provo. Breakfast was once again french toast, this time made primarily by Becca. It was a pretty slow morning; everyone sort of lounged around and relaxed before our 3ish hour trek back to the more northern quadrant of Utah.
Once we'd all had our share of delicious, sugary french toast, we cleaned up the house. That didn't take long with seven of us working together. The final activity of the trip was writing in the house's journal. Anyone who stays there is supposed to write about whatever they did, a pretty neat thing really. Nathan gave me the job of writing what we did since I'm quite talented with putting words together, or so I'm told. I made everyone sign their names at the bottom of our entry and then it was time to go.
The drive back was a bit melancholy, mostly because we watched the temperature drop over and over. Our days of sunshine and 50 degree weather were gone before we knew it. The farther north we drove the sadder I became that it would be months before I could wear my Chacos again. That was one of those little things that made me incredibly happy: wearing Chacos in January. Hopefully whatever my friends and I do over the next three day weekend will be conducive to wearing sandals. It was quite the weekend and I'm sure glad my friends dragged me along. While this post is particularly long, I haven't even mentioned most of the stuff that really made us laugh, the stuff we'll always remember. There's just some stuff that doesn't need to be written about, the kind of stuff that just had to be experienced and will always be remembered.
And so that was my three day weekend. It's hard to believe that a week ago today I was lounging around a beautiful house in St. George. The first three weeks of school have absolutely flown by. Once again the semester hasn't been anything like I expected it to be, as if they ever are, though this one has been especially surprising. " We're coping, however--probably even better than expected. :)
"Thanks to Martin Luther King Day, we had last Monday off from school. Three day weekends are an absolute joy to college students and a group of us took advantage of the extra day of rest. I believe it was on the Thursday afternoon before MLK Day that I received a text message from Becca saying we would be going to St. George for the long weekend; the friend of two of our good friends has a house there, or rather his family does. I agreed instantly at the time but later ran into a bit of trouble.
Come Friday I was all ready to go. I'd gotten people to cover my hours at work; my backpack was full of clothes; I'd picked out what to read for fun; I'd chosen what little homework to bring. But about 30 minutes before we were supposed to leave, I started to re-think my weekend. That was the trouble. Staying at home and relaxing was just so much easier than driving three hours to St. George that night. I suddenly had the great desire to be alone. Luckily, I have a group of persuasive friends who wouldn't let me stay in Provo when the sunny skies of St. George were so attainable.
And so I went, somewhat begrudgingly.
The drive down that night wasn't bad at all. Five of us journeyed south that night: Nathan, Trent, Erica, Wee Nathan and myself. (Yes, we had two Nathans on the trip. That became quite entertaining.) Wee Nathan and I talked a lot about football. We also watched "Get Smart," a movie I remember surprisingly well even though the last time I saw it was probably when it came out. The drive went by quickly and arriving in St. George felt great, mostly because the temperature was well above 30.
The next morning started out great. The night before we planned out our meals for the weekend and bought everything we needed. That meant a delicious breakfast of orange juice and french toast! Nathan made it for us and he did a fabulous job. We lounged around a lot that morning and afternoon. Both the Nathans, Trent and I eventually made our way outside to play volleyball. It was over 50 degrees that day and it felt spectacular. Going out in a long-sleeved tee and shorts seemed like a miracle. After a bit of volleyball, we just ended up lying in the grass talking. The only thing that drew us away from the sun was the thought of all the ice cream we had in the freezer. (Ice cream was on sale so they bought four half gallons. It was perhaps the best decision anyone made all weekend to buy all that.)
After the ice cream we played cards and some other board game I can't remember the name of. It was quite the competitive time, though. I felt quite good about myself as we played the card game scum on account of how during all but one round I was either in the top spot or the the 2nd spot.
Eventually we decided to break out all the bicycles. Trent was quite enamored with the tandem bike. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I rode a bike so the short ride to the park felt like a dream. Once at the park, we decided to test our disc golf skills. I'd played a fair few times before but my skills aren't all that enviable. I don't quite have the precision needed to putt in disc golf, at least from really close to the baskets. I can throw decently far and with general accuracy so that's what I ended up doing most on my team. However, it turns out I'm excellent at putting from mid-range. Put me within a few feet of the basket and I'm terrible, but put me more than 10 feet away and it's game over: I won't miss a shot. Disc golf is definitely a sport I could see myself really getting into.
Right when we came back from discing, Ben and Becca arrived! Once they were situated in the house, it was time to talk dinner. We ended up toasting some bread and making sandwiches but for people who didn't eat any lunch (Nathan, Erica, Trent, Nathan and myself) they were extra great. Once we'd had our fill, we actually just sat in the dark in the living room for quite some time. Eventually Trent roused all of us from our slightly comatose states, going on about how it was only 7 on a Friday night and we were in St. George and it wasn't freezing outside for once so we had better go out and actually do something. All seven of us climbed into the Honda Pilot and went for a little drive with no real destination in mind.
We ended up pulling into this parking lot that apparently led into some small park full of red rock; it was hard to tell because we only had a couple flashlights and we were away from the city lights. So we took a little hike, even with Becca in her broken state of a walking boot. It ended up being a great decision as we climbed up just a little bit and looked out over the city.
Sunday morning all seven us were up and ready to go in enough time to make it to 11 o'clock church; this is what we planned to do so it was great. After that we went to the St. George temple and visitors' center. It was a lovely way to spend our Sunday afternoon and it was such a beautiful, sunny day.
The best thing to occur as we prepared dinner was the "dare" given to Ben by Nathan. He handed Ben half a head of garlic and said, "I'll give you a dollar if you eat that." And without hesitating, Ben popped that garlic into his mouth and started chewing despite great protest from Becca and me. While Becca was protesting the actual eating of the garlic, I yelled at Ben for doing such a thing for only a dollar; such a challenge was worth way more than that. He chewed that garlic for quite some time before it began burning his mouth and throat and he had to spit it out. Then he brushed his teeth a fair few times and according to him at least the first time he did it he "couldn't taste the toothpaste."
The rest of the dinner preparation went swimmingly and we sat down to a wonderful looking meal around 4 o'clock. Nathan did a marvelous job with the grilling and the boys' marinade turned out great, despite the fact that it had the most random of ingredients. We knew the food was good because we talked so little during that meal.
Following dinner it was time for another bike ride to disc golf. After all, Ben and Becca hadn't gone with us the day before. The teams were Nathan, Erica and Becca; Ben and Trent; Wee Nathan and myself. We were generally pretty even through all the holes until the last three of the second round we played. Wee Nathan and I dominated those last three holes. He threw off first, getting somewhat close to the holes but not close enough to be considered actual putting distance. From well over ten feet away on each of those holes I absolutely nailed it. It was kind of funny considering how at the beginning of the games I was quite vocal about how disc golf always frustrated me and I never could throw accurately. Then somehow I always managed to turn things around and throw the discs perfectly. When we got home Nathan (pictured below as the disc model) said he never wanted to play with me again unless I was on his team.
 |
| Nathan: America's Next Top Disc Model |
 |
| Ben can fly |
 |
| Disc golf pro, broken foot and all |
 |
| The only way to pose as champions |
 |
| Look for us in your next edition of Disc Golf Monthly |
And so came Monday, the day we had to return to cold and wintry Provo. Breakfast was once again french toast, this time made primarily by Becca. It was a pretty slow morning; everyone sort of lounged around and relaxed before our 3ish hour trek back to the more northern quadrant of Utah.
Once we'd all had our share of delicious, sugary french toast, we cleaned up the house. That didn't take long with seven of us working together. The final activity of the trip was writing in the house's journal. Anyone who stays there is supposed to write about whatever they did, a pretty neat thing really. Nathan gave me the job of writing what we did since I'm quite talented with putting words together, or so I'm told. I made everyone sign their names at the bottom of our entry and then it was time to go.
The drive back was a bit melancholy, mostly because we watched the temperature drop over and over. Our days of sunshine and 50 degree weather were gone before we knew it. The farther north we drove the sadder I became that it would be months before I could wear my Chacos again. That was one of those little things that made me incredibly happy: wearing Chacos in January. Hopefully whatever my friends and I do over the next three day weekend will be conducive to wearing sandals. It was quite the weekend and I'm sure glad my friends dragged me along. While this post is particularly long, I haven't even mentioned most of the stuff that really made us laugh, the stuff we'll always remember. There's just some stuff that doesn't need to be written about, the kind of stuff that just had to be experienced and will always be remembered.
And so that was my three day weekend. It's hard to believe that a week ago today I was lounging around a beautiful house in St. George. The first three weeks of school have absolutely flown by. Once again the semester hasn't been anything like I expected it to be, as if they ever are, though this one has been especially surprising. " We're coping, however--probably even better than expected. :)
http://wendtanna.blogspot.com/2013/01/st-george-sunshine.html
Friday, January 4, 2013
You might be a Mattson if..
Your love of adventure is only slightly outweighed by your love of home
Your vacation requires you take a vacation from your vacation
If your vacation doesn't require a second vacation, you've done something terribly wrong
Pain is inconsequential when it comes to SCUBA or Disneyland, but otherwise it's a serious problem to be dealt with ASAP
You get dangerously cranky when you don't sleep
You never get a drink at any type of restaurant other than water
You love nature to no end
You watch almost exclusively Syfy, NatGeo, Animal Planet, and USA Network
You're a fan of Doctor Who
You're a huge Disney freak, even if it is illogically expensive
You have awkward dance moves to be used in awkward public places
You are always extremely, ridiculously busy (and yet still should be getting more done..)
You love Swedish meatballs
You know what S's and O's are
The phrase "But don't get excited, I love monkeys too!" means something to you
You know the second verse to the bed bug poem that nobody else seems to
You can drive a manual car
You have a hard time admitting when you're wrong
You window shop for real estate--constantly
You dream of one day building and/or remodeling your dream home without hiring anyone
Your #1 dessert choice is most definitely ice cream
You never yell, but sometimes people may confuse your regular, conversational voice with a yelling voice
You're too stubborn for your own good
You can recognize (and most likely point out) Santa Lucia in the Christmas-ified "It's a Small World"
You cry during most Hallmark commercials (and anything else remotely sad)
You have to eat an apple before any candy on Christmas morning
You often have asthma attacks from laughing too much
You have to be careful about who walks behind you, because they're definitely probably trying to trip you in some way, shape or form
Your vacation requires you take a vacation from your vacation
If your vacation doesn't require a second vacation, you've done something terribly wrong
Pain is inconsequential when it comes to SCUBA or Disneyland, but otherwise it's a serious problem to be dealt with ASAP
You get dangerously cranky when you don't sleep
You never get a drink at any type of restaurant other than water
You love nature to no end
You watch almost exclusively Syfy, NatGeo, Animal Planet, and USA Network
You're a fan of Doctor Who
You're a huge Disney freak, even if it is illogically expensive
You have awkward dance moves to be used in awkward public places
You are always extremely, ridiculously busy (and yet still should be getting more done..)
You love Swedish meatballs
You know what S's and O's are
The phrase "But don't get excited, I love monkeys too!" means something to you
You know the second verse to the bed bug poem that nobody else seems to
You can drive a manual car
You have a hard time admitting when you're wrong
You window shop for real estate--constantly
You dream of one day building and/or remodeling your dream home without hiring anyone
Your #1 dessert choice is most definitely ice cream
You never yell, but sometimes people may confuse your regular, conversational voice with a yelling voice
You're too stubborn for your own good
You can recognize (and most likely point out) Santa Lucia in the Christmas-ified "It's a Small World"
You cry during most Hallmark commercials (and anything else remotely sad)
You have to eat an apple before any candy on Christmas morning
You often have asthma attacks from laughing too much
You have to be careful about who walks behind you, because they're definitely probably trying to trip you in some way, shape or form
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