I'm such a girl

New shoes! They freaking rock! Wow... I can be such a girl at times.

It's been one week

So I have been with the kids, without parents, for a little over a week now and so far I think things are going really well. A friend of mine came to stay with me to help me out though so it's been really nice. Actually my friend that's staying with me is American. And get this, she's in my stake back home. We lived in the same stake in Utah for three years and it took us both moving to the same stake in Germany to meet. How cool is that? Any way, it's been nice to have someone else around to help me with the kids and it's even better that she's American. I know that I should be trying to learn more German but it's just nice to speak English some times. And really we've got a pretty good handle on Denglisch (dang-lish) so it works pretty well.

I hate to say it but the girls are much more relaxed when their mom isn't here. It makes life so much better...except now I'm the one that has to clean and cook and settle all the arguments and do all the shopping. I'm only 20! I'm not ready to have a 10 year old and a 7 year old to take care of. Hopefully being on vacation for two weeks will help her to relax and calm down so that she isn't so high strung when she gets back. *knock on wood* Kids are so much more pleasant when they're under little stress. So nice. The older one has been throwing fewer tantrums, I don't think there have been any actually. Well maybe one but it was weak sauce compared to her normal.

All in all things are going very well. Only one more week until the parental figures come back. I'm excited. Maybe I'll take a short, well deserved vacation.

Don't pretend to know

One of my biggest pet peeves: "I know how you feel."

I cannot stand it when people say that because it's a flat out lie. No one knows exactly how I feel. It wouldn't be so bad if you said "I can see how you would feel that way" or something of the like but do not come out and tell me that you know how I feel. Even people that go through the same experience don't have the same feelings because they have different backgrounds and other experiences that shape who they have become and how they feel now.

Yesterday there was a stake Relief Society thing all day, we each had two workshops to go to with lunch in between. The day started with me only getting about 5 and a half hours of sleep, having a bad hair day and then not having time to eat breakfast. We got to the stake center (an hour drive) and had an opening song and prayer together before we split for our first workshops. As we left we had to take a small cut out heart because whatever color we had is what table we had to sit at for lunch and each color had a different dish. My first workshop was the sport activity where we did a little yoga and I was quickly reminded of how unflexible and weak I am. It was good though because I've been thinking about doing yoga since I have so much free time.

We ended class a little early so I pulled out my ipod and listened to some music and went through the pictures I have on it. They are all from back home and brought the memories flooding back, which at the time I didn't think was bad because they were all good memories of fun that I've had with friends or funny pictures from the internet.

When it was finally time for lunch I went and sat at my table and knew right away I wasn't going to like it. The salad was... I actually don't even really know what the stuff is but it's purple and gross. I thought there were slices of apple on top so I was excited about that but when time came to eat them they turned out to be pears which I'm not such a fan of. Then we had this soup which seriously was lacking some spices/seasoning (gewürtz). I'm not sure what all was in it except for carrots (I don't like mushy carrots) and snow peas or something... pea pods which I do like. Then there was stuff that kind of looked like wheat that wasn't so tasty but I ate it just for the mere fact that I was starving and I needed to eat something. Then we got to dessert which I was looking forward to because the bowl of pudding had been mocking me the whole meal. I dug into that. And then stopped digging and more played with it. It was kind of gritty and tasted like there was wheat in there and it wasn't very sweet. It was like fat free sugar free pudding or something. I ate less than half of it. The only good thing about the lunch was the water and that wasn't even the best because I'm not such a fan of lemon water but it sure beats the heck out of the nasty mineral water they drink here.

I finally got tired of staring at the disgusting food so I got up and walked out. But that also has to do with the fact that I was on the verge of crying and I certainly didn't want to do it infront of the whole stake. So I went to the bathroom and tried pulling myself together and when I thought it was safe to go out again I went to the gym to grab my bag and I went to the room where my next class was. As I walked in the teacher came in with me and she started talking to me. After asking my name she asked me where I was from (I have a very unGerman way of pronouncing my first name even though it is pretty popular over here.) and what I was doing in Germany. That's when I lost it for the second time. I again went to the bathroom and tried pulling myself together. I went back to the classroom and she asked me if I wanted to talk about it. (That's what you should do, FYI. Ask if you can butt into someone's personal problems, not just rush over and gawk at them and pester them until the forget their problems and end up just being mad at you.) I just shook my head and she said OK, asked me if I understood when she and her brother (the other teacher) spoke German, I nodded, and she left me alone. I tried to preoccupy myself with writing so as to not have to look up and have people notice that I was crying (and luckily we weren't supposed to be talking anyway when we came in the room because the class was 'good thoughts through good music' so we just had to listen to the music) but that only worked so long.

The class started and since there were only about ten of us we went around the circle and introduced ourselves. I had planned everything out in my head as to what I would say and how to say it so that it was mostly grammatically correct but for some reason when it got to be my turn I just couldn't do it. I waved them on, waited for about 30 seconds and couldn't take it anymore so I left and went to the bathroom yet again. This time there was some one in there and she asked if I was ok. I just told her that I'm American and I was a little homesick and that's when a lady from my ward came in. She was in the workshop with me and came to check up on me I guess. I first started to get annoyed with her when she basically pushed the other lady out of the way. The lady had asked me a question that I hadn't answered yet and Sabine (from my ward) was just like "Thanks but I'm here now." That bugged me. If people want to be nice, let them. No one asked you to come in here and check on me, at least I know I certainly didn't. Then the next thing that bothered me was that she stood there and watched me blow my nose. Now this may be more information than you want so if you get squeamish by the littlest things skip this part until the five asterics. I had more snot yesterday than I knew was humanly possible. I mean when I blew my nose it soaked through all four layers of the paper towels I was using (which hurt by the way). But Sabine just stood there and said "Blow it all out." That's when I went into a stall and didn't go back out until my nose was empty and I knew she was gone. ***** I was just getting things composed when Sabine walked back in with Erica, also in our ward and the stake RS president. So now I had two people with their panties in a twist over me. Now comes the next thing that annoyed me about Sabine, what I opened this blog with. She told me that she knew how I felt. When she was younger she moved to a new town and didn't have any friends. But oh wait, she still lived with her family and she was still in Germany where she knew the language. It was her own freaking fault she didn't have friends. That is absolutely nothing like what I'm going through.

What am I going through? I'm more than 5,000 miles from home in a country with a different language that I'm still learning and no friends. There are two other people around my age in my ward (branch really) but one of them is a strange boy who is moving to Hamburg pretty soon and whom I've hardly said more than two sentences at a time to and the other one is almost 5 years older than me and has a 1 and a half year old girl. The only "friends" I have here are more acquaintences and all live an hour away from me. Either that or they're missionaries and can't hang out. The closest we get to hanging out is talking for an hour or hour and a half on Thursdays because no one shows up to the English class that they started. Also, my guest parents are leaving on Thursday for two and a half weeks leaving me alone with the two girls to basically fend for myself. Aforementioned Erica is basically in the family and she told me if I needed help I could call her but I'm pretty much alone. But here's the kicker, my guest parents are going to Salt Lake for half of their time in the US and they'll most likely meet up with my parents and have a grand ol' time in my town.

Any way, I finally got back to some what normal and went back to class. I cried a few more times, not too serious though, more just like a leaky faucet that drips occasionally. And it was because of the stupidest things, like listening to a song by Elvis, or knowing that the song was called Give it to Me and is by Timbaland, Timberlake, and Furtado or not knowing the German national anthem or talking about the American national anthem. It was just all really weird and random and I felt really stupid because I couldn't stop crying. It was just months worth of emotions that had all built up and I finally erupted. I was a volcano of emotion, unpredictable and uncontrolable.

Confusing

I made myself a sandwich for dinner tonight and I was getting everything out and toasting my bread I thought "Hey this is basically a BLT." Then as I was slicing my tomato I got to thinking of what BLT stands for; bacon, lettuce, tomato. I looked at the things on the counter and realized the only way it resmbled a BLT as the fact that I had the T. Other than that it was mozarella cheese and some lunch meat. I don't even know what kind of meat it was... turkey, chicken, pig, horse, platypus? No idea.


Cars are not cute. There is nothing cute about a one ton hunk of machinery. And yet they can be hot or ugly.


This blog made absolutely no sense. I'll probably delete it later...

Silence really is golden

You would think after 7 months living with something that you would get used to it, but you don't. Or maybe it's that after a certain time you get used to it and then after a little bit of being used to it and tuning it out that it just becomes annoying, sometimes unbearably so. This thing that I speak of is yelling. I have lived 7 months with a family that yells almost constantly, whether it's because they're excited or mad or want attention or just because they can. It's only quiet when no one is around.
Those are the golden moments. Those are the moments when I just stand in the hall at the top of the stairs and listen to the sounds of the house. The unsyncronized ticking of the clocks, the hum of the heaters, the whistling wind and usually the rain dancing on the roof. Those are the moments I treasure. They are rare.
Maybe van Gogh had the right idea when he chopped of his ear. Sure it was because he was crazy, but I think there was some sense to it. Maybe he grew up in a family that yelled all the time too. Maybe he just got so sick of it that he took a knife to his ear. Or maybe it was just because he thought it would shut up the voices in his head.
I count the days until I can go back to the silence of my home. There it's only the sound of hammers, drills and saws. It's quiet there. Home is where my sanity is.

Inspire

Inspire

1. to fill with an animating, quickening, or exalting influence: His courage inspired his followers.

2. to produce or arouse (a feeling, thought, etc.): to inspire confidence in others.

3. to fill or affect with a specified feeling, thought, etc.: to inspire a person with distrust.

4. to influence or impel: Competition inspired her to greater efforts.

5. to animate, as an influence, feeling, thought, or the like, does: They were inspired by a belief in a better future.

6. to communicate or suggest by a divine or supernatural influence: writings inspired by God.

7. to guide or control by divine influence.

8. to prompt or instigate (utterances, acts, etc.) by influence, without avowal of responsibility.

9. to give rise to, bring about, cause, etc.: a philosophy that inspired a revolution.

10. to take (air, gases, etc.) into the lungs in breathing; inhale.

11. Archaic.
a. to infuse (breath, life, etc.) by breathing (usually fol. by into).

b. to breathe into or upon.

–verb (used without object)

12. to give inspiration.

13. to inhale.




I have been inspired. What an inspiring idea. What was the inspiration? You inspire me. People that believe in me, inspire me. Places where I can publish my work inspire me. Clouds, ants, grass, flowers, horses, plowed fields, dreams, friends, family, music, books, speeches, babies, love, friendship, fun, sorrow, pain, anger, school, weekends, nature. Everything I see, everything I feel, everything I think. Sometimes I let them pass me by, good ideas gone to waste. And sometimes, I write. Thank you for believing in me, trusting me, and supporting me. You are my inspiration today. You are my inspiration always.

To be or not to be?

"I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and incur my own abhorrence."
--Frederick Douglass

I found this quote as I was reading his book "A Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass" which I have to write a book report on. I've been thinking about it all day and how true this should be for all of us. I'm not sure if it's just me but I've had some difficulty finding out who I really am and who I'm going to be in the future. I'm just at that point in life, 20 years old and trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I'm living in a different country surrounded by things that are totally alien to me and basically my life is turned upside down. I have no idea what to do.
My life has been spent hiding behind this mask of what I thought people wanted me to be. The only problem is, I've been back there so long I forgot what the real me looks like. How do you find who you really are? Does it just jump out from the background, put both hands on the sides of your face and tell you to open your eyes and look yourself in the face? Or has it been so trodden on that once you finally start looking for it and calling it's name, it has to wake up and reorient itself with it's surroundings before it starts to play Marco Polo with you? When you find who you really are, do you come out a little at a time like a chick hatching from an egg? Or do you just burst out like those people that hide in fake cakes and jump out of the top and surprise everyone?
Life is full of so many questions. Who am I? Where do I belong? What do I want to do with my life? Who are my true friends? Am I really what I think I am? Where am I?

I will rebel in my own way. I don't need you as an example. I won't follow your footsteps to darkness. I'll make my own where I want and when I want and how I want. No one can change my life except me, so stop trying. Me rebellion is my own.
Maybe I'll drink and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll eat and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll write and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll stop and maybe I won't. It doesn't matter what clothes I wear. It doesn't matter what I put on my skin. I don't care what you think when I walk by, I only care what I think when I look in the mirror, if I look int he mirror.
I will rebel in my own way. I don't need you as an example. I won't follow your footsteps to darkness. I'll make my own where I want and when I want and how I want. No one can change my life except me, so stop trying. My rebellion is my own.
Maybe I'll skate and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll play and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll live and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll laugh and maybe I won't. It doesn't matter what movies I watch. It doesn't matter where I work. I don't care if you don't ike the person I have become. If I am happy then that should be all that matters to anyone. It's my life and I will rebel in my own way. No one can change who I am.
I will rebel in my own way. I don't need you as an example. I won't follow your footsteps to darkness. I'll make my own where I want and when I want and how I want. No one can change my life except me, so stop trying. My rebellion is my own.

I've got to figure out who I am. Don't judge me. Don't ridicule me. Just be a friend. If you can't handle that, walk away. I need to do what's right for me, not for the rest of the world. It's time to take a moment for myself. Find out who the real me is. How I dress, talk, walk, do my hair, act. Everything.