Sadness

Oh yeah. I have a blog. Today I am thinking a lot about sadness and all the kinds of sadness. I want to categorize it neatly, but I'd forget something or some exception and then I'd be stressed and annoyed with it. Instead I'll just ramble on about it in general. I have been feeling a lot of sadness lately. It's not a depressing sadness - more nostalgic and achey. My heart feels heavy and I sort of understand why and I sort of can't put my finger on it. I'll try though. Possible Reason One I have a lot of issues that I always pictured being gone by the time I turned eighteen (at the very latest.) Well I'm here now. And so are they. I've made headway on so many goals and faltered or totally failed. In many ways I feel as though nothing has changed at all, and that hurts, and that makes me sad. It's the part of my sadness that feels hopeless even though I know it's not. Possible Reason Two Literature is fake. I've never had any problem accepting that and moving on. However, for some unexplainable reason (besides my obviously heightened mental capacity and remarkable maturity level) (hardy har har) it has ruined some things for me. Lately, I find reading makes me sad. My stupid brain keeps taunting me with the thought that it's temporary and that my life is still my life and it sucks the satisfaction clean out of it. Instead of picturing the rest of the untold story in my head, I find myself snarkily reminding me that the rest of the story doesn't exist because the author never wrote it. Possible Reason Four I hate leaving things behind. I hate missing people. But even worse is when I miss people for so long that I stop missing them. I hate the thought of letting go of things that matter to me now, even though I know it's right and good and inevitable that I move on. So many people tell me, "Don't worry. In five years, those people won't even matter." I'm not sure what about that is supposed to cheer me up, but I find it overwhelmingly heart breaking to think that eventually everything that means something to me now will have washed away. Possible Reason Five I am a floater. From now until a long time from now, I don't have a permanent home that's mine. And I don't have a car, which means that I'm sort of trapped here in this bubble. Not that I don't love Provo, but the idea that I am dependent on someone else should I want to see my parents or my cute little sister or older sister or *heart breaks a little* my sweet, sweet nephews makes me want to cry sometimes. Possible Reason Six Finally, I'm just not the person I thought I'd be by now. I always pictured my eighteen-year-old, freshman in college self as someone very different than who I am now. I find myself disappointed and tempted to compare myself to the seemingly perfect mass of women here. I hate that feeling. I'm happier than I am sad, though. I feel hopeful. I don't really know for what, yet, but I feel the excitement of a new experience and the slew of new experiences that come with it. I am lucky enough to have found two on campus jobs and I walk EVERYWHERE so that's healthier than I've ever been. People here are golden - funny, welcoming, smart and helpful. I am truly blessed. It helps a little to be able to expound on all of that. Also, how could I be sad? IT'S OFFICIALLY THE CHRISTMAS SEASON :D (In my book anyway.)

Humor Me

More and more recently, I have been examining a tendency in myself that goes like this: I laugh at everything. Ok, let me qualify that. Of course there are lines that I do not cross. But as far as my own life, my own heartache, my own failure, my own stress goes? Yeah ... there's some good, comedic material there. Probably enough to last a lifetime. Research says (no, don't be ridiculous, I'm not ambitious enough to look up the articles) that humor has always been used to combat tragedy or things that make us uncomfortable. Racist jokes, woman/man jokes, political cartoons - it's all a defense mechanism. It's actually an aggressive reaction meant to combat the discomfort. It crosses a line when it's not aggressive enough to effectively fight the discomfort - that line is drawn by different people at different times. For me, there are subjects that cannot be dealt with by laughter - I always thought it was just inappropriate to laugh at certain things (i.e. Holocaust jokes, 9/11 jokes, dead baby jokes, etc.) but I realize that my line of when laughter is an aggressive enough response is just drawn sooner than others. Scaling it down back to a personal level, though, I have to look at the things in myself that I have to find funny. My weight, Polycystic kidney disease, my clumsiness, my own lack of social grace, the constant stream of people disliking me or finding me annoying ... ew, just writing the list makes me squirm in my seat. The same things that fuel my humor fuel my insecurities. So do I use laughter as a defense mechanism? Yes. Is that unhealthy? To be honest, I really don't think so. I don't feel like my humor or laughing at myself is a facade. I'm not hiding my baggage behind comedic walls. I simply twist situations that I find to be disheartening into ones that make me laugh (something I dearly love to do). I can recognize this as an aggressive response, an effort to keep myself secure, but were I not able to laugh at these things, I have a dangerous feeling that I would be one of those wince-worthy facebookers that always make you want to send a kind message detailing content that is and is not acceptable to be posted. I'm dramatic as is. Humor may be a silly defense mechanism, but I can also see that it has become my saving grace. Had I decided so many years ago to take myself too seriously, I have a sneaking suspicion that I would have ended up one of those tortured artist types. Laughter has saved me. (That's not dramatic at all). Sure, sometimes I use it too much as a crutch or an escape to avoid dealing with things that I should. More often than not, though, I'm simply allowing laughter to balance out my intense tendencieos towards the overly passionate and rather scary. Not to mention, my charm and wit are unparalleled. What can I say - I have a gift?

Ready or Not

Am I ready for high school to be over? This question has been posed more than any other lately (not including the ever most common, "What did we need to do for English again?") and has taken more thought to answer save only the very most probing. Am I ready for high school to end? Ready? Ready as in logistically could I survive life after high school? Since I assume the "end" of high school is laced with hidden implications of the beginning of college, a mission or some other generic secondary educational plan, I'll take a step back and answer that. Yes. Yes, I do believe that I can survive the college lifestyle. (my specific plans, in case you were wondering.) I have saved as much money as possible at my grand positions as an intern at a local paper, a pizza maker at Papa John's (as well as cashier, phone answerer, dough slapper, floor cleaner and just about anything else they need me to do) and a tutor for a darling girl in my neighborhood. I have kept my grades high so as to qualify for scholarships and have received several. Or, perhaps they mean ready as in emotionally stable enough? Good enough at driving through college towns? Clean enough? Responsible enough? Mentally ready? Spiritually strong enough? Is ready just another word for enough? Are you ENOUGH for high school to end? I think I'm ready. I'm ready to leave behind bell schedules, orange vests and morning announcements over the intercom. I'm ready to get away from girls who think they know too much and boys who don't care to know anything at all. I'm ready to be a leader by example, not by title. I'm ready to meet a whole new crowd of men and a whole new crowd of women. I'm ready for Krispy Kreme and big classes. I'm ready for a little room and some brand new roommates. I'm ready to stay up all night and cram for exams. I'm ready to have to walk across campus to get to a class and I'm ready to have a different schedule for every day of the week. I'm ready to not be able to procrastinate anymore and I'm ready to have to work my butt off to get an A. I'm ready to learn to be a college student and I'm ready to get out of the house and fall flat on my face. I'm ready to make mistakes and make good choices and make dinner. Yeah, I'm ready. Except, I'm having a hard time being ready for half of my friends to go on missions and half of them to scatter themselves across Utah or the country. I'm not so ready to leave behind my favorite teachers - I know that should be the last of my concerns - or seminary. I'm not ready to leave behind free periods spent excusing students, morningsides or late nights with people just down the street. I'm not ready to leave Kraver dates or Roxberry dates or stupid, sweaty school dances. I'm really not ready to call the new seminary council or teach the new editor how to run the school paper. I'm not ready to graduate and cry allll day. I'm not ready to leave my best friend in high school. I'm not ready to drive back and forth between here and anywhere further away than Tooele. I'm not ready to say goodbye to the hilarious people at Papa John's or tutoring. I'm not ready to say goodbye to at least 200 of my books. I'm not ready for most of my best friends to no longer be so close by. No, I'm not ready. That's ok, though, because my thoughts are mirrored by many, I'm sure, and I know I'll be just fine. It will all work out beautifully even if I am occasionally nostalgic. But for now? I think I'll enjoy every minute of high school I have left.

2013. And a little lot more.

I'ts been a very, very long time since I last posted on this blog. However, I feel that I have far from neglected it as, periodically, I referred back to my last post through the remainder of 2012. It is now 2013 and I find myself puzzling over the very odd changes and, sometimes, lack of. I also find myself puzzling on the people who have walked in, out, back in ... sometimes back out? of my life. The people who I could not imagine life without suddenly I never see and the same people that were faces in a crowd are now those same people I could never live without. The point is, life goes on. I don't even remember losing twenty five pounds, have continued to fluctuate (aka grow exponentially larger) and currently, just started dieting again and have lost anywhere from 10-20 pounds. This time though, it feels real, and once again, I have high hopes. I have been called to the seminary council which, in itself, is a total party. I also inserted commas where they weren't there in the parallel last blog post and to be quite frank, I'm not sure which was correct. This one, I hope. Yes, a certain boy was called to the seminary council as well which is not only a large reason that it is such a party but is also the reason that I met him at all. Funny how these things almost relate perfectly and yet are so different. I have more causes for work and stress and, once again, less work and stress. I am beginning again to keep a consistent reading and (wonder of all wonders) am finally reading the bible! My fanfiction obsession, ironically, is one of the only parts of 2012 that has extended with almost no change into 2013. If anything, it has grown more open. Courageous, I know. I have watched lovely superhero movies, Les Mis, the Hobbit, Breaking Dawn AND Pitch Perfect ALL in theaters which makes some sort of record for me. Especially because not only did I tolerate them, I loved and raved about them all. I guess that was more the end of 2012, though. Suddenly my reading habits strike me as dull. I read, always have. Ha ha ha ... the world, for the - what - thousandth time, did not end. I guess you can call me survivor. Dallin is home, I still occasionally give talks and, again, oddly enough, I just went and SAW Owen and Wes and (drum roll, please) now baby Eli. Sometimes I call him Pal or Raisin. (I just had the hardest time spelling raisin. Hm.) It was wonderful. They were wonderful. I got out of the car and my butt was a bruise and my body a bug bite, but they are more than worth it.I continue to watch Luke and Lorelai and many other couples. I mentioned Homecoming - I went twice. Sort of. With a wonderful boy who offered to dress in dress robes. I have had immense luck with dances and gentlemen and I still find it miraculous that both days would be in my top favorite days in living memory. Neat. I'm a cliche. I wanted to address all of that as a precursor to what I really wanted to talk about which is, joy of joy, my opinions. It's all kind of in one post, which I apologize for (because it's becoming a novel), and rather disjointed, but something that has been on my mind. My opinions are random, often under-educated, random and, sometimes I wonder if they might be invalid as well. Oh, and did I mention random? Oftentimes I, after having a negative run in with someone or something throughout the day, subconsciously add passion to stories and recollections for humor's sake. Something that might really hurt me or bug me is spun around into humor. I do not hide behind it, I simply prefer to laugh at these things and it heightens my enjoyment of life. So these things that don't really matter and that I recognize don't matter often get more priority in my brain than other things. To condense it down, here are some things that I have strong opinions on. Some are bizarre and I should probably get over. Some are well founded, but still random and may seem puzzling. But here it is. Harry Potter is the singly best fictitious series ever written. Yes, I said it. I realize I did only compare it to Lord of the Rings and Chronicles of Narnia but let it trump them. I can recognize that yes, they may have been better developed settings and even purposes. However, Harry Potter is a story that connects with readers. I have always connected with literature, but Harry Potter has given me another life. The character's lives were as much a part of my childhood as running through sprinklers in the summer and sleeping on my parents' floor when I had a nightmare. I could elaborate - probably more than any other subject I could elaborate on this. But I won't. I could never do them justice. People should be good to people Yes, I believe that people should be good to all living things. However, I believe completely that if humans honestly held in themselves a constant, anxious concern for the well being of other people, then care for the environment, animals, politics, and all other important issues would follow. Bullies, those that abuse in any way, those that are cruel without cause and those that are cruel with cause I have a harder time tolerating than anyone else. Little things like leaving generous tips and complimenting sincerely. Isn't the fact that we're all part of mankind enough to instill us with some sort of duty towards each other? Whatever method of existence you believe in, can't we all agree that it was ONE method that created all of us? I don't condone tolerating evil or sin or whatever your version of that concept is, but tolerating and LOVING and ACCEPTING people is a must. However, I am a hypocrite. I don't hate gays more than I hate people who drink coffee. (As in, it makes no difference, if you're a jerk I won't like to be around you, if you're a nice person, I will. I do not live that lifestyle, you are welcome to, kudos all.) I like people from all races as well as racist jokes. If you tell me an honest problem that you have, rarely does it shock or sway me. Rarely does it give me occasion to dislike you in any extreme. However, there are two things that I cannot find myself able to tolerate and it is literally the most hypocritical pet peeve. I cannot stand stupid people. But stupid is ambiguous and relative! Yes ... I know. That's the problem. I have a hard time with people who, by my definition are stupid. Basically, ignorance and apathy, combined, in my head compartmentalize someone as that word that, for literary reasons I can't make myself repeat anymore. When people know very little about a subject they are impassioned about, when people are smart but with no care for anything or (worst of all, heavens above) know very little and do not care to learn more. Yeck. I become a total snob thinking I am somehow better even though it's ME that gets excited for a B in math and ME that can't keep a room clean to save my life and ME that cares more about eating food than I do about the possibility of heart disease, diabetes and YES I will say it, death. How can I classify someone ELSE as stupid when I, myself, struggle with life and death dilemmas and am closer to the death side?? Not very intelligently, that's how. And yet, I will always believe that people ARE good. Yep. It's true. People should be good and, for the most part, are. Humans are, inherently, well meaning creatures. Some do good because they believe it is their duty to leave a mark on society. I do good because it feels good to help and because I believe that it is my way to show my Heavenly Father that I am grateful for what he has done for me by "feeding" His "sheep." This urge to do good, to me, is the Light of Christ and the presence of the Holy Ghost. To others, it's a conscience. Some call it karma, some just believe that if they're on Earth, than doing good is a duty and a privilege without believing in a higher power or eternal consequences at all. And yet ... they do good anyway. People are good. Some people are bad, sure, but, like the beautiful John Mayer song, "The Heart of Life is Good." I believe this completely. The difference between a bad day/week/life/etc. is your attitude As much as inspirational, cliched notions are obnoxious to my jaded ears, I believe in the notion that attitude is at least a good portion of everything. Attitude, if you didn't notice, plays a crucial role in all of the previous things I have mentioned. The attitude to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause" which, sure, is quoted scripture that I believe, but obviously not strictly applicable to religious causes. The attitude to work hard and be educated for no other reason than that you have an attitude of CAN in yourself, in others, and you want to learn. Apathy should be vanquished in general. I believe in feeling. I believe in crying if that's how you feel (not ... crying because you are sad, I mean the literal expression of strong emotion.) I believe in letting yourself connect to people and literature and poetry and art. Personally, those last two still kind of puzzle me, but if they're what make you feel, I believe in them. I believe in being tender and sweet and good and soft. In my mind, those things make you strong. To me, that's what having a good attitude is all about. Laughter cures most things and helps the rest. Ok, sure, that was a hyperbole. However, I love laughing. This year has been jam packed beyond believe and many of my goals have collapsed. However, I have learned to laugh loudly and often. My writing has taken a turn for the satiric and sarcastic which, to be frank, I prefer. Sometimes, I'll admit, that leaves my real emotions coming out like they are currently (i.e. long winded and melodramatic) if only because sometimes I need to write this way - exactly what I feel despite the fact that writing jam packed with bloggers who feel like if they just string together their thoughts eloquently enough, post enough about FEELINGS and OPINIONS, then they can change the world tends to make me want to claw my eyes out. Despite this post, laughing has become nearly constant and is my favorite part of my day. Humor is crucial in my life. I tell stories a lot, mostly because if I can just turn a really awful day into a witty anecdote, somehow it feels like it was still worth something. I believe in knowing and caring about politics in the county, country and world. Once again, though, it goes back to the care for people in general, and I don't want to get into my individual stances (because suddenly I will start sounding extremely uneducated which would be embarrassingly ironic.). I believe in the importance of family I believe in being good to your siblings, your parents and your spouse. I believe in laughing, farting, laughing harder, fighting, playing Pokemon and staying close. I believe that strong marriages happen all the time. I believe that happy marriages are possible and important. I like kids and family pets and inside jokes. I like it all. Finally because, of course, it's a given... I have an opinion about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and it's that it's true. To me, it's a fact. Weirdly enough, it's the one fact and the one thing on here that i wouldn't bother to argue. It's a fact for me. Can people be blissfully happy taking other paths? Sure thing. Good for them. I just truly believe that nothing makes you happier than this church. I don't even know what this blogpost is. Making up for lost time?? No ... two people total I think will ever see this. Not a big deal. It just felt good to write something in my perspective, laced with whatever cheesy lines I want (and am about to use) - and overall, the audience is secondary. I just needed to write (for a complete eternity) and figure out my thoughts. Maybe it took all night (it did) but it felt good. It felt good to spout off about nonsense and to know that I'm about to publish this post without editing it a bit or sleeping a wink. -Siera p.s.My new Year's resolution, put into my poor attempt at poetic words? No empty words. No empty calories. No empty spending. No empty head.