In Which I Am Alive

Sometimes I make plans. Sometimes these plans are for the day: move in on Tuesday. Sometimes these plans are for the semester: take a lot of crazy hard classes so I have no time for life. Sometimes these plans are for the year: lifeguard/teach lessons at the pool. And...sometimes I hold on so tightly to these plans that having the very rigidity stresses me out, but I'm afraid to let go and surrender to the unknown. But today I let go. I have to move in on Thursday. And I am happy. The pool has decided not to keep me for the fall/winter. And so I will have time to do homework. My schedule for fall is not the most rigorous I could possibly handle. And I am trying not to feel guilty about that. And I feel good. Actually, I might just feel good because I'm listening to "7/4 shoreline" by Broken Social Scene, and it's my new favorite song on earth. Guys, it's actually in 7/4!!! (I just discovered Broken Social Scene for myself today. Brenton, if you st...

A week ago, I lost my wallet. I've searched frantically, and have determined that it was probably stolen out of my locker at work. Awesome. So today, I began my quest to replace it's contents, and have become increasingly incensed with the paradoxical nature of this process. I need to buy a tank of gas today. Therefore, I need a debit card. I obviously don't have one anymore, so I need to get a new one. You need photo ID to get a debit card, and so off to the DMV I went to replace my driver's license. So I get to the DMV, only to find out that not only can I not get a driver's license without proof of Social Security, which I didn't have with me....I need to pay a 30 dollar fee. Since I definitely don't have 30 dollars cash laying around, this definitely means...I need a debit card. Wunderbar. The good news: I have a passport. If the bank doesn't count that as photo ID, I think I'll just give up and go live under a rock. Hooray.

I just looked through all the posts I've written, and realized how many I write and don't post. Some I start and never finish. Some, I write in the heat of an emotion and then wait to see if it will still be a good idea once the emotion has subsided. And some I write in blog form because typing releases my thoughts faster than hand-writing in my journal, but I'd never post these thoughts because of their sensitivity. I've written five of the latter kind in the last month. Two in the last two days. Maybe I'll post some of them someday. Maybe I won't. Maybe I need to be braver. Or maybe...I just wanted to tease you a little bit...see if you were still paying attention. ;)

I've never liked having things dictated to me. I sometimes like a little rebellion for it's own sake. Theological argument at Family Home Evening? I play devil's advocate. Blanket statements about why Batman is better than Superman? I take Superman's side (though I know Batman's better). Everyone I know starts getting married? I take a vow of celibacy. (Well...for the time being at least). I'm the one who doesn't actually watch R-rated movies, but who gets defensive when you tell me I can't watch them. I'm the one who could easily come in before midnight, but once the Honor Code tells me I have to, I don't want to anymore. I'm the one who is perfectly fine to sit and wait for good things to happen, but once someone tells me I have to be patient, it suddenly feels impossible. How's that for a stupid worldview?

Today I was in my kitchen, chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool....when my 8 year-old sister suddenly appeared right in my face and yelled out, "SHOES!!!" After an initial blank pause, I asked, "Um...what about shoes, babe?" "You're wearing them," she stated with a smile. Yep, that kid's definitely related to me.

There once was a young girl named Riss, whose life would be untempered bliss, were it not for the friction caused by Internet addiction, so she spends her nights writing on this . There once was a girl who loved Guster, And with all the love she could muster, she listened and sang, as the chords they all rang, With such music, she'd never feel flustered, There once was a girl late at night, who blogged as a form of respite, from her grown-up chores, (balancing checkbooks and more) but now wonders if it was right.

Dria and I used to play a game where we would shout out political and cultural buzzwords, chosen specifically to generate controversy. These hot-button words included, "Obamacare!" "Abortion!" "NCMO!" "Gay Marriage!" "Islam!" "R-rated movies!" "Caffeine!". The rule was, you could yell out the topic, but never actually state your opinion on it, and then just watch the people around you start to argue. We always wanted to try it on campus but it never quite made it out of the apartment. Now, I'm not trying to intentionally stir up controversy, but having just had a fascinating conversation on the need for honesty and diversity of opinion at BYU, I would like to share a few opinions I have that may or may not mesh with those of my peers. I don't think caffeine is against the Word of Wisdom. Honestly, as a lifeguard, I feel better about downing some Dr. Pepper at the beginning of my shift than I would abo...

Thy living water pours through me, golden-glowing in thy Light, dampening my dry and barren ground. Making of me a more fertile soil. A seed, burrowed deep within, begins to take root, stretching out timid, hopeful tendrils. But, my heart is a sieve. And soon thy water trickles away, unnoticed at first, until the earth dries, hardens, cracks. The seed, the sprout, withers, my desperate tears a poor substitute for that first watering. Perhaps the stream was imagined after all? 'Twould be a tempting thought, were it not for a dampened spot remaining. A poor oasis in my desert. Oh Lord, I shrink to ask thee to send thy rains again, for I fear my sieve will again betray me. And so I ask, remake my sieve. Mold me. Fire me in thy kiln, e'en thy refiner's fire. Make me tight like unto a dish, a fitting vessel for thy love, fertile ground for thy word.

Today I learned that my brain tires infinitely faster than my body. Evidently, while my body has become a browned, toned, fit version of its winter self, my intellect has grown weak, easily exhaustable, and adipose. This morning I woke up at 5:30 and spent 3 hours running around 7 peaks helping pull "victims" out of the water, allowing my fellow lifeguards to strap me to a backboard, and *cough cough* kicking absolute butt in the CPR competition, all as a part of the Utah Valley Lifeguard Games. Then, I stayed for another hour riding slides with my guard buddies, drove straight to Utah Lake for some tubing and (attempted) wakeboarding with my family, came home, cleaned the boat, and still had enough energy that I'd planned to go on an 11-mile run. And then I decided to figure out my fall schedule. For the past hour I've been staring at the computer screen, debating such important questions as , "Will I die if I take nothing but music classes in the Fall? Maybe ...

I find it interesting that crying is often simply equated with sadness. It seems to me that tears serve to indicate how much emotion someone's feeling, but the presence of tears says jack squat about what that emotion actually is. In fact, just for fun, let's make a list of all the emotions tears could indicate: Sadness (obviously) Frustration Pain Misery Hopelessness Despair Fear Grief Sorrow Anger Confusion Desperation Bitterness Exhaustion Relief Nostalgia Surprise Absolution Discovery Fulfillment Humility Regret Joy Love Longing Mirth Overwhelmedness (is that a word?) Awe Spirituality Happiness Also, a million more emotions that don't come to mind right now, as well as the infinite number of combinations that we can create from this list (because, I don't know about you, but I rarely feel just "sad" or just "happy". For example, right now I'm feeling "exhausted-melanch...