This is Halloween!

Why is no one enthusiastic about Halloween this year? At work no one wanted to decorate because "there's no way we'll win the decorating contest." Who cares? Have fun! Why do people feel they can't have fun at work? No one was excited to dress up, but I don't work tomorrow so I don't know if people will or not. And everyone voted to keep the kids at home instead have them trick or treat at work because if the kids come they'll get us sick. Who decided to kill Halloween?

Though my Stake Halloween party doesn't sound incredibly exciting, I am going just because it is the only activity I have to dress up for and I can't not dress up this year. That would be ridiculous.

I decided to just do a simple cheap costume and it has turned out to be amazing. I am excited. Queen Bavmorda from Willow. I have the ripped up sheets for the mummy outfit beneath, the black robes, the white nun cap, I've made a crown out of burnt tinfoil, and tomorrow I'm going to buy a doll, wrap it in cloth and a belt so I can walk around exiling it's soul into oblivion. I am so happy.

Stop Wasting My Time

I hate wasting my time on things I don't enjoy. I never have enough time to do everything I want to do, so anymore I have no patience for spending hours at an activity that is boring or isn't stimulating, intellectually or spiritually, etc. (Ironically my job applies to this category, except that it gives me money and that is important).

For instance, FHE. The activity is SUPPOSED to be a get to know you activity so why not do something . . . revolving around the scriptures. After all we don’t get enough religion living in Provo, UT. Devotionals, ward prayer, firesides, 3 hours of church, an hour of visiting teaching, an hour of home teaching, enrichment activities, and then FHE, where the first ½ hour is supposed to be a lesson, which I am fine with. But I draw the line at making the activity also, ALWAYS, about the scriptures. Perhaps I am a bad person and I should make religion a part of every aspect of my life. Perhaps I should be eating, breathing, dreaming, writing, drawing, watching, walking, sitting, washing religion. After all, my faith is very important to me; shouldn’t it pervade every breath of my life? But let’s be honest. Do we all find the scriptures so exciting that we want to be reading them all the time?

And the scriptures, religion in general, is meant to show you how to live your life. They are basically instructions. A user’s manual. But if you spend more time reading the instructions and not doing any practical application then the instructions are useless. You are spending all your time planning your life and never actually living your life. You are gaining nothing.

I feel that way about many of the activities I am semi-forced to participate in. There is no real enrichment from them. FHE activities: 1. Let’s get to know one another. Here is a pile of pieces of papers with scripture names written on them. Grab one, don’t look at it, but put it facing out pressed to your forehead so everyone else can look at it. Go around to people and ask them one question about themselves and then ask 3 yes or no questions about the person you are. YAY! I scream sarcastically. What name do I get on my forehead: Nebuchadnezzar. What in the world? The activity did not allow much getting to know you. The focus was on the scripture name, not the people. 2nd activity: Book of Mormon Golf! Randomly open the scriptures, read out a chapter heading and everyone has to write down the book and chapter they think it is in. How is that helpful? It is like we are always focusing on the facts, the dates, the names, and yet we spend no time on the actual meanings behind the scriptures. We keep reading the manual, the instructions, but we never use what is in there, not in these activities. And reading the chapter headings? It is like reading the description on the back of a book.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t read the scriptures. Reading the scriptures gives you many examples of how to live your life and each time you read them you can get something different and applicable to that moment in your life. However, I am the type of reader that reads and gets meaning, but I do not have the kind of memory to remember which chapter that message came from, which prophet or follower said what, to me it doesn’t matter who said it, the messages all come from God. It doesn’t matter which vessel he uses. I guess my brain works differently. I just don’t want to spend an hour trying to prove who remembers the most about where each thing happened in the scriptures.

For once I am glad it's Costco day at work

This morning I was enjoying my cocoon of darkness and warmth at 7 am, and refused to get out of bed a moment sooner than I absolutely had to in order to at least shower and then go to work, despite having wrapped myself at 7 pm the night before. Copious amounts of sleep is my cure-all, including headaches and sore throats, both of which I had last night. So to bed I went, listening to my mix of La Femme Nikita songs, Enigma softening the pulse in my eye. Just the one.

I barely made it to work, skipping making my own lunch. Hopefully work would have something good to eat, maybe China Isle or something tasty and loaded with fat and protein and nutrients so I could feel like I was combating my oncoming cold. To my disappointment it was Costco written across the menu board. It was then that I realized I'd forgotten my wallet and had no money anyway. Blast. I had two options: 1. microwave popcorn and apple sauce from my drawer of snacks to keep me running through 10 hours at work. or 2. drive home and get my wallet, which would mean I'd have to stay an extra 1/2 hour. 10 hour Mondays are long enough.

My pink, yellow-dotted easter egg of change held 63 cents. I couldn't even get something from the vending machine for that. I scrounged in my purse and AHA! A crumpled dollar bill. With that I could get twinkies, or chips, probably even some poptarts. None of which I should be eating.

That's when I remembered it was Costco day. The cheapest lunch day. My ugh turned to hmm as I realized I could buy a hot dog for 1.50. Now with a hot dog in my belly and Erasure in my ears, I think I just might make it through this day.

Me and Tara, hiking from Boscastle to Tintagel.

The Write Direction

I am moving up in the world. Finally creating an environment I can create in. It was difficult to sit down at my old, tired laptop to write, the over-loud whirring of its uncertain life, the staggered grating of the last working fan as it struggled to give me hope that it would endure another day just for me, for old time's sake. Words and sentences appearing, on a secondary screen because the other was broken, at least 20 seconds after I'd typed them. I was constantly pausing, waiting for my computer to catch up. I might as well have had a scribe.

But I was able to update, my dad giving me an extra computer he had. Words appear as I type them now. I'd almost forgotten how that feels. One step in the right direction for me being able to write more often.

Yet every time I sat down to write, I couldn't sit for long. The metal chair beneath me did not allow for longevity in one position. It compelled me to get up and move around. That didn't help my writing pursuits. Helped my tv watching, which was booming on its own.

But, yesterday I went to the world of desk chairs. Rows and rows stretching before me, yearning for my butt to sit in every one. I hunkered down in slouching positions, moved each chair so I could kick my feet up, rubbed my back against leather like a feline to the leg of a potential petter. I wiggled, wriggled, crossed one leg and both, rocked, flopped, and contemplated my butt, long overdue for some better home comfort, softer plush cushioning without lugging it around with me everywhere I go. I found the perfect one. Brought it home and assembled it myself. Now, here I sit, butt nestled in comfort as I slouch and write. I could lounge here all day. Definitely the right direction.

Edinburgh

We may have gotten up way too early to go to Hadrian's Wall only to decide it was too expensive. But the rising sun made me want to start every morning with such a view.

Newgrange, Ireland

Can you start a Europe trip any better than with green, rolling hills of Ireland, a hot Irish tour guide with a beautiful accent, and going into a burial mound that is lined perfectly so as to have the inside lit by the winter solistice's rising sun?

Hall of Mirrors, Versailles

Blog, Vomiting Frog, Blog

Quite simple really. Certainly not an unfortunate nickname. But a stress ball squeezed to bursting, an ooze of yellow mucus sludging across the already disgusting surface of my desk. Delighted, and of a generous nature, I decided to share my new diversion . . . over the side of my cubicle wall, dangling yellow goo into Jayme's pencil basket. Once the vomiting frog was desiccated thoroughly and his innards ripped out, we made him swallow Priscilla. There he still stands, maw a permanent gulp of cat whiskers, frog stomach lining cocooning the rest of the freaky feline. Every day he watches over me from his perch on the cubicle wall, inwardly snickering at the people who pass by. Their dropped chins showing that no one has a clue about what goes on in my head. Who dares to be weird at work?