Adventures from Washington DC

What a whirlwind trip! Two blinks, and DC had come and gone. Read on for a summary of our adventures:

My parents and I flew out to Baltimore on Wednesday night (the money we saved by flying in to Baltimore paid for my ticket...well worth the hour drive down to VA!) It was well past 1am by the time we arrived at our hotel in Fairfax, Virginia, and past 2 before we got to bed. We were up bright and early the next morning after about 4 hours of sleep, and headed off to my brother's final transfer meeting. The reunion was very sweet--he was happy to see us, and my mother was ecstatic. I will not lie...there was plenty of pleasant eye-candy among my brother's fellow missionaries, but after listening to their mission-speak for a while, I decided it's well worth waiting until they've been home for awhile and "normalized."

That afternoon we drove up to the Washington DC Temple. It was so beautiful--the sun was out, it was warm, and definitely the feeling of spring in the air. The weather was phenomenal all weekend long. At the temple, my family and the other missionaries went through a session. I'd been hoping to do baptisms for the dead, but the baptistry was closed. So I wandered the grounds and took pictures for awhile, then went to the Visitor's Center. It's huge! I talked to one of the sister missionaries for awhile--Sister Zhao, from Shanghai China--and then went to watch the Joseph Smith movie. They have a giant IMAX theater there...and I had it to myself. After the movie I rejoined the group, took a few more pictures, then we headed back down to VA. We had dinner at the mission president's home, then attended a fireside for the departing missionaries. I'll admit that I dozed through a good part of it. Between the jet lag and 4 hours of sleep, I was very ready for bed.

Early Friday morning, Kyle was officially handed over to us. We went first to Mt. Vernon, the home of George Washington. Of all the places we visited, this was the only one I'd never been to before. It was fascinating! I learned a great deal about George Washington, his family, his lifestyle, and that period in our history. The artifacts they have at the house are pretty interesting--including his dentures! Too funny. Anyway, after Mt. Vernon we drove up to Arlington National Cemetary. This place has a very special place in my heart--I first visited there as a high school student, and it was a very powerful experience. I was glad when I had a chance to walk with my father through the graves...my mom and my brother were too busy catching up to really appreciate the spirit of the place. We visited the Tomb of the Unknowns, the Kennedy graves, and just took in the powerful sight--I read that 300,000 servicemen of various walks are buried there. It's something else.

That night, Kyle watched his first real movie in 2 years. Can you guess which one he picked? That's right--STAR TREK. A brother after my own heart. =)

Saturday was our whirlwind tour of DC. We started at the Smithsonian National History Museum. My brother is obsessed with flags--his room is covered in them--so it was a treat for him to see the Star Spangled Banner. Stuff like that kind of creeps me out, how people have torn off pieces of it for keepsakes, it's all ratty and falling apart now. But it was interesting. From there, we visited the White House Visitor's Center, which was brief and not all that exciting. After that we decided to take a bus tour of the city, which considering the amount of time we had, was an excellent choice. So we drove around and saw the sights of DC, including Union Station, the memorial for Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln, the Vietnam Wall, the White House, and everything in between. We briefly visited the Smithsonian Castle, which was exceptionally eclectic and not all that interesting. It's bizarre to me how little pieces of history end up scattered through the plethora of museums out there. Bits of so-and-so here, pieces of such-and-such over here. We cling to the rag-tag ends of history like magpies collecting trash. The people of those past eras would probably be horrified to see the tidbits we cling to. I doubt very much that George Washington appreciates his dentures being gawked at as they are, as the man was well-known to be disatisfied with his teeth and smile anyhow. But we are nevertheless fascinated by the things they touched, used, wrote, wore and otherwise left some lasting impression upon. We are curious creatures.

That was pretty much it. On Sunday we attended Stake Conference in Virginia. It actually was a regional conference, broadcast from Salt Lake City. It's strangely comforting that the church is the same everywhere. Although, I have to say, there were an inordinate amount of pregnant women at this meeting. I swear to you, every woman I saw that appeared between the age of 20-40 was pregnant. It was bizarre. After the conference, we went to visit some families that my brother had lived with during his mission. We had lunch, we bought some girl scout cookies, and then we were off to Baltimore and on our way home.

As I always say, there is a profound difference between a trip and a vacation. A vacation implies relaxation. So I'll just say...this was a fast, furious and exceptionally fun TRIP.

A Tribute to my Best Friend, the soon-to-be Missionary

Melissa and I met in Juniper Hall, our freshman dorm at Southern Utah University. We both lived in the Honors Hall. Very few of the people in the Honors Hall pursued Honors, but I'm grateful that they all lived there that first year...particularly the woman who would become my best friend.

We lived together (or close by) throughout the rest of college. We lived in one nice apartment the third year, but all the others were pretty ghetto. But Melissa made them homes. She decorated, she cleaned, she cooked, she sang, she lived. She was an incredible roommate and an even better friend. I am grateful that our friendship has stubbornly persisted post-college into these years where we have lived an hour or more away from each other. Melissa is the one person for whom I will sacrifice and talk for greater lengths than 5 minutes on the phone. I can't help it. Our conversations are a life-line.

I love Melissa for more reasons than I can count. The top of the list is her loving acceptance of people, of me. I have always been able to talk to Melissa about anything, and that's a quality I don't have with other people. Melissa is an incredible listener, and she enjoys helping other people sort through their personal trials. She is dedicated, she is loyal, she is spiritual, she is kind, she is generous, she is outgoing and friendly and wonderful.

Next Wednesday, Melissa will be leaving for 18 months to serve as a missionary-representative of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She will be serving in Ohio. I will be able to write her letters (as I have promised to do!), but I will not lie, dear reader, that I face the prospect of 18 months without her bearing nothing more cheerful than determination in my heart. I have to make it through this time because she is off doing a good thing that I support wholeheartedly. But I will sorely miss her presence.

God bless, my dear wonderful friend.

When God keeps poking you, you'd better start listening!

I don't mean that statement to be sacreligious or in any way disrespectful. But I honestly believe that God uses other people to 'poke' you, to give you hints and nudges and a bit of a wake up call. Welcome to my life.

In the space of 12 hours, four people asked me when/if I was going back to school. It had been on my mind anyway, with school starting and a bunch of my friends starting classes. But then in less than a day, I got asked again and again about me going back.

Little pokes. Little nudges.

If you know me at all, you know about my impulsiveness. This is how it works--I start thinking about doing something. I stew about it for a looooooooong time. I might bounce the idea off a few select people, or I might keep it to myself. But when I finally make the decision, I take action immediately. I make it happen. Right. Now.

I started thinking about going to grad school last year. Do any of you remember that? I decided that I wanted to study social work. But as I was looking at the application for the program I was interested in, A) I was too late for this year's deadline, and B) of equal importance to education on the application was volunteer work in the field. At the time, I had none. So though school wasn't an option at the time, I still got interested in volunteer work. I contacted my caseworker down in Cedar City, who recommended me up north, I pursued it, got in touch with some key people at family services...and now I have nine solid months of volunteer work behind me, and my passion for the field has multiplied far beyond what my original interest led me to believe.

At this point, I'm just going to apply. Applying hurts me nothing, and could gain me a great deal. I have found something that I love to do, something worthwhile, and something I can make a career of. The chances of getting the kind of position that I want increase significantly with a degree--particularly a master's degree--in the field. And what is there to hold me back?

General Conference weekend

As I grow older, I am coming more and more to love General Conference. This weekend, I will be attending four 2-hour sessions where I (along with several other million members of the LDS Church) will listen to the words of our prophets, apostles, and other general authorities.

Since high school, I have generally watched most or all of General Conference with friends and/or roommates. This year will be no different, although it's going to be a new group--friends from my singles' ward.

I also particularly enjoy the activites that surround general conference. For instance, on Saturday night after the Priesthood session (during which Cheri and I will be at Wal-Mart!) we are having a movie night. Our movie selection still remains to be seen, but we will be watching from the comfort of the club house at the Milano apartments...which is VERY nice. =)

And on Sunday, we are having a brunch between sessions, and I am SO excited to make french toast. I'll admit that I have been craving french toast for...well, awhile now. So that's my contribution to our potluck brunch, and I'm pretty content with life.

Of course, I am mostly just excited to hear the words of the Prophets. And I'm excited to get to read them in a month's time in the new conference Ensign. I just absolutely love general conference.

I hope you have a great day!

I read a lot of blogs. Most of them belong to friends and family, but sometimes I go exploring. I also have received recommendations from friends of blogs THEY read that I may enjoy (hint hint, nudge nudge). There is something about this format that fascinates me. Perhaps it is the very personal nature of it. I mean, a blog is almost like a journal for some people, where its a soap box for others, and anything inbetween. I enjoy discovering more about people, and more about how other people see and experience the world. Besides, I simply enjoy to read.

Today I was deeply affected by something I read. I don't know the blogger personally, its a friend of a friend. And I don't want to get into too much detail. But what I read made me step back and really examine something that I believed. I questioned, I probed, I pondered. For a solid hour this morning, I was profoundly disturbed by this thing that I read written by someone I don't even know.

I got over it. I read something else that made me feel better. I realized that I did in fact believe what I thought I believed. My belief was not shaken, but I could not believe in that moment how profoundly affected I was by this stranger's blog.

I guess my thought is that we never know how we're going to affect other people by our daily actions. This is what the R.S. teaches all the time with visiting teaching. It is our belief that God puts people in our path to better our lives--and that he uses US in that way to benefit others. And I sometimes worry that I am letting those opportunities pass by.

Today I read a talk by President Monson . I have this one last thought to share. I apologize for the overt religiousness, please bear with me. But this statement struck me particularly today:

"Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and non-existant future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey--now. We will never regret the kind words spoke or the affection shown. Rather, our regrets will come if such things are omitted from our relationships with those who mean the most to us."

Dear reader, I hope that you have a wonderful day. Let it be a good one. It IS Friday, after all. :)

The Value of Hard Work

Today is Friday. Normally I am a great lover of Fridays. There's just something about them that makes them seem infinitely brighter than the rest of the week. Maybe it's the imminent freedom of the approaching weekend. Or maybe the sun just shines more on Fridays (not that it seems that way on this rainy day!!) Today's Friday seems particularly bright, however, because I am pretending the roadshow does not exist. That's right. Today there is no roadshow. It will come back tomorrow in full force, but for today I am blissfully ignoring its existence.

What I really wanted to write about today is the somewhat abstract concept of hard work. It's been on my mind as I watch people and society around me. Our society has grown remarkably lazy, as no one will hesitate to point out. People (I use the term in its most vague and general terms) seem to expect rewards to simply be handed to them. Jobs. Diplomas. Money. I see this at work a lot--people who call in wanting refunds, because times are hard, and expecting to get money just for the asking. Well, friends--times are hard for us, too.

Hard work is not a concept I have appreciated in every part of my life. I have had my lazier periods--still do, in fact. There are a lot of nasty or difficult tasks that come through a persons' life.

However, I am coming to appreciate just how beautiful and important hard work really is.

There are plenty of platitudes out there about hard work; I will try to spare you. But with utmost sincerity I can tell you that when you really work for something, when you work so hard you think you'll explode with the stress of it, when you've given everything you have and still you are asked to give more...well, I believe that's when you really find the value in it, whether it's a job, education or church, a relationship or a friendship. Putting in the effort gives these things value.

I look at my college experience, particularly in the theatre. My last show there, Henry V, was immensely challenging. It required hours upon hours of effort, and every last drop of ingenuity I had. I gave it my all, everything and more that I had to give. There were other shows like that too, but Henry V truly stands out as the crowning jewel of my experience there. I loved that show. And it's because I wanted to enjoy it. I wanted to be happy, working as hard as I was. And amazingly enough, it worked.

I look now at my singles' ward experience. Through college, I never had a ward that I really cared about. I always wanted cool callings, and was regularly disappointed by the things I was asked to do. My efforts therefore were lackluster--I went to church, I played the piano in Sacrament meeting or whatever my calling was, but that was the extent of my efforts. But my current ward...I went in with the desire and intention to challenge myself. I asked for a challenging calling--not a glory-filled one like I had always imagined that I 'deserved', but something that would stretch me and my skills, something that would take effort and preparation. I was called as a gospel doctrine teacher. Since that calling, nearly everyone I have told of it has sympathized, bemoaned my fate. And yet...I don't find myself complaining. It's difficult. It's a lot of work. It scares the crap out of me every single time. But...I wouldn't give it up for the world.

I look at this roadshow. I have been commended for taking it on, but honestly, I didn't think about it twice when I was asked. And it has been so rewarding--challenging, certainly. Frustrating at times. Chaotic and maddening. But I've gotten to know more people, I've gotten to write and direct, to teach a little and to enjoy these wonderful people who have sacrificed of their time to participate. Throughout the entire experience, I have not begrudged the work and the time and the effort, because it is so worth it!

I don't mean to be self-righteous, and I don't mean to preach. This is more a self-exploration of these things anyhow--realizing that when I have given of my efforts as selflessly as possible, I have enjoyed the experience more. I want to explore the things that I have realized are important.

My point here is that the joys of hard work apply everywhere, to everything. Nothing in this life is going to be easy, and if it is you're probably doing it wrong. The Gospel of Jesus Christ was not meant to be easy--we have to work for it, every moment of every day we have to restore our faith and our desire to follow the direction we have been given. Our daily life was not meant to be easy--we should find ways to challenge ourselves, to force ourselves to grow and improve. Whether its through work or hobbies or friendships, we will be happier if we are active and involved and seeking to challenge ourselves. And when the trials come--hardships through family or finances, through personal challenges or deep questions, my response to you is the same: just keep trying, and have faith. The same goes for relationships, whether with spouses or siblings or children or aunts or cousins or friends, close or the barest acquaintence. Relationships are not easy. They take work, hard and something grueling effort, whether to overcome anger or to overcome apathy, to fight the little annoyances, or to win their heart each and every day. Nothing worthwhile is easy, and if you stop working to keep the things that are important to you, you will lose them, more often than not simply through your own indifference.

The Roadshow: Part X

I think I've discussed the roadshow here and there, but let me reintroduce you to this madness that has been consuming my brain power for the last month. My stake (a local chapter of my church, a grouping of the smaller wards) is having a roadshow, which is this Saturday evening, and I was asked to take charge of my ward's portion. During December, I wrote the script and lyrics around the theme of service and in the mandated setting of a garage, among other prerequisites. Starting after the new year, I have been dragging various ward members by the scruffs of their necks to get them to practice and learn this mini-musical. Even though I'm a theatre regular and know how the thing goes, I was starting to feel nervous there for awhile. Fortunately, things are finally starting to come together, as I knew they would.

I happen to have a fantastic musical director, who just seemed to appear right when I needed him and possessed of the perfect skill set for the job. I don't think this would have happened without J.T., and I'll say that with a perfect frankness.

It's been a long time since I've been in a directorial role--since taking Directing II in the spring of 2007--two years ago now. (Wow.) It's a totally different mindset than being a stage manager, as I am accustomed to, and it's been a very nice stretch. This is a relaxed setting. It doesn't have to be perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. There are no judges here, of any kind. No grades or reviews hang in the balance. This has been FUN. It's sort of a mockery of theatre, but then, what musical isn't a bit tongue-in-cheek? Tonight I spent half my breath telling the girls to "Keep giggling!!" (the other half was telling them that I couldn't hear or understand them, but that improved as the night wore on.)

God knew I needed this. He knew that I needed to stretch my theatre legs, but not too much. He knew that I needed a chance to get to know more people in my ward. He knew that I needed something to occupy my mind and my time during this period of my life, brief though it is. He knew I needed a goal to work toward, and people to chivvy toward it with me. So yes, it will be a relief to put it behind us, but I don't intend to take much time off afterward--I'm getting used to having church business to keep me busy.

Look for more roadshow updates as we get closer to the big day!

Only one more Sunday before Christmas!

Sundays are seriously becoming my favorite day of the week, which I could never have predicted at any point of my life up until now.

Church today was exciting. Firstly, we're singing/playing Christmas hymns in church, which I love. I just love Christmas, but singing Christmas hymns is definitely one of my favorite parts. I'm going caroling next week at Apartment Christmas, and I'm super excited.

I taught Gospel Doctrine today in Sunday School. It's so nervewracking. I've been nervous all week, but I'll tell you, I started trembling twenty minutes before Sacrament Meeting was over, and didn't stop trembling until halfway through Relief Society. All things considered, I think an angel taught my lesson, because it well so well and I certainly couldn't have done so well. Somehow I made a baby's first steps into a metaphor of the pride cycle on the spot. It worked out pretty well. :)

Actually, I just got back from a second Sacrament Meeting. There's a retirement home in my neighborhood that has a branch in our stake, and the wards rotate preparing their meetings, with the priesthood in charge of blessing and passing the sacrament, and the R.S. in charge of the music. So today I volunteered to play the piano for the meeting. It was cool. I haven't played the piano in a church meeting for a year now, since my last ward in Cedar City, and I realized that I miss it. I love playing the piano, its one of the talents that I am most thankful for because it brings so much joy into my life.

Oh, and a very good number of people signed up for the roadshow! I'm excited to start working on it. My current motto is Simplicity. I think keeping thing simple will save my sanity.

Life is good! Love and Christmasness to you all!

Hope smiles

I live in Happy Valley, Utah, which basically means that I'm an old maid at 22 (next week), and that 6 months is a long time to date before marriage, let alone an engagement. It means that there are babies and pregnant women everywhere, and it means there's an LDS church on every block (almost literally). It also means that there are a LOT of happy, pleasant people around. They definitely have their quirks, but they are, generally, rather pleasant people. Speaking as an outside observer, of course. ;)

I've been waffling a lot lately, which I find to be rather unlike myself. I spent four years of college determined and knowing exactly where I was going, what I was doing, and trying to pre-determine what would happen as far into the future as possible. I considered myself one of the most foresighted people around. So waffling seems quite out of character, really, except that I've been waffling for the last eight months now, with hardly an end in sight.

Grad school, then a mission both fell by the wayside (though either could spring back up at any moment.) Going back to school has been dismissed for the time being, since I can't really figure what I would major in if I did end up going back. I like my job, but despite all my efforts, it remains a part-time position, which means it can't satisfy in the long run. I want to write, but I am unsatisfied with my work, and besides, that will always be a long shot I can never count on. I want to get married, but there's even less guarantees there, despite every encouragement from my mother. (Love you, Mom!)

Hope smiles everywhere, though. I got to talk to a friend tonight, a friend in the midst of soul-searching troubles, and a ray of hope smiled into my life. Perhaps it's just a moment that will pass as so many do, but perhaps I can touch this friend's life for the better. Perhaps God will touch, and change will follow. I can hope.

I got to see many friends tonight, some of whom I haven't seen in years. And it was like old times, only richer. I have got to be one of the luckiest women on the face of this world, to have friends like I have. True friends, friends who would be there in a moment for any cause. Tonight it was my high school friends, friends who have stood together for eight years or more now. How implausible and wonderful is that? We talked, we laughed, we played games, we (or rather, they) sang songs and played the piano. It's a kind of innocence, those friendships. We are free from the things of the world, distractions that might drag us down, or make our friendships less meaningful. I will always have these friends, and they will always stand by me and want my happiness, as I do theirs. Hope smiles.

I have hope. I have so much hope, sometimes I want to burst with it, and I just have to tell somebody everything, because hope is just too beautiful to keep to oneself. I have hope that my life WILL have meaning, despite my current troubles. I have hope for my friends who have need right now. I have hope that I will find balance. I have hope that I will be able to serve others, as they have served me.

Oh, and I have hope that Obama will win the election. Ha!

A Mormon girl working in the theatre on a Sunday afternoon

My mother complained to me today that I haven't blogged in forever, so I endeavor to remedy that. I'm pretty sure my mother is my only consistent reader, so I do try to keep her happy. You know, besides all of the OTHER reasons I try to keep my mother happy. :)

Part of the reason it's been awhile is that we have been kah-razy busy the last few days. I've talked about Site Specifics before. Basically, it's theatre based on the venue, rather than on a script. However, that means we don't have the base of a theater to work from--we're building from the ground up, creating scenery, lighting and sound effects, and anything else you can think of, to a PLACE--anywhere on campus the directors like and can get approved. Once we're past, I'll post more details and hopefully some pictures. But like I've said before, this is pretty much the coolest thing we do here. The most unique, anyway. It keeps our whole crew hopping for the week leading up to the shows.

At church today, I couldn't help noticing how many pregnant women there were. I kid you know, half of the Relief Society is pregnant. Granted, it's a pretty young ward, lots of toddlers running around. But still, I don't think I've ever been in such a group. All these crazy bellies! It was strange to see the age differences, too. There were expecting mothers who looked no older than me--their early twenties, if that. There were late-twenties moms with a kid or three already. But then there were a couple pregnant women who seriously had to be in their late thirties or early forties! Now, there's nothing wrong with this, of course, it's just funny to see the difference. The young mothers were spry and cute, with tight-fitting maternity blouses and chic skirts with expanded waistlines. The older ladies...heck, they don't care anymore, they were in loose, sack-like, flower-printed dresses to keep cool and comfy. I had to laugh. Those younger moms will learn!

Have you ever had a group of babies staring at you all at once? Toddlers, too, I guess. I don't know why I'm a target for this attention. Sitting in the congregation, surrounded by the aforementioned young families, I kept catching these young watchers. I would smile, then look back at the speaker, or my hymnbook, or the wall somewhere away from their wide, innocent eyes. There was the little boy next to me, his older sister on his other side, the little girl and her littler brother in front of me, and the four-year-old redhead in front of them. Hardly a moment went by where there wasn't at least one set of eyes on me. I didn't see them staring at anyone else in particular. Maybe I had Sharpie on my face? It was somewhat disconcerting, I'll admit. I didn't really mind, though. I like little'ns, as Sam would say.

It's hard to remember that it's Sunday, at work. That's part of the reason we (Mormons in particular) try not to work on Sunday, I suppose. Everybody's talking, everybody's in a rush, people are irritated and frustrated and tense and trying to make things work. Nobody around here but me is trying to focus on anything else, I suppose, but if they were, I'm sure they'd find it just as difficult as I do.

Part of the mission statement here is that we function as an artists colony, separate from the outside world and focused entirely on the kids' art. That's the biggest focus, really--the kids. Still, the atmosphere here is infectious. All of us have said at one point or another that we feel inspired here, that it affects our own artistic inclinations. I can't help but to write. One of the other women here broke out her paints practically upon arriving. There is just something about being surrounded by other artists that invokes the muse.

Beautiful Sunday

Sometimes I really love being Mormon.

This morning, I was so tired--I didn't go to bed THAT late, but I've spent that last two months or so on a schedule of 2am to bed, 10am to rise, so scaling back to midnight-8am is a challenge, and will have to go back further by next week. Long and short--getting up for church this morning was a challenge.

I got sort of lost driving to church. Last year, a Sister Hodubski drove me to church each Sunday over the summer. I vaguely remembered the way, and I looked on Google Maps, but I still managed to get a bit turned around. However, I just kept going in the right general direction, and I prayed that Heavenly Father would help me find the church. Well, I found Old French Road, and I could remember the way from there, but I was still very thankful when I saw that familiar building on the hill.

I love the church here. It's a different ward this year, since the Erie 2nd Ward now meets at one in the afternoon, and that will probably conflict with my job in a few weeks. But the 1st ward is just as good, and a lot younger. Last year, I saw with grandparents, or couples with kids out to college. The ward this year is mostly young families, with a baby and some toddlers. Its a lot more lively, but still very spiritual. I was greeted by no less than five people before Sunday School started, which is even before the Relief Society nabbed me--I got asked to say the closing prayer almost before they knew my name! So friendly, so outgoing. I admire the members out here, out in the mission field.

Speaking of which--they had four sets of missionaries. Six elders (two of which were Spanish speaking) and two sisters. Isn't that cool? This area isn't that big, but the work goes forward at a rampant pace. I find it thought provoking.

But just in general, it's such a beautiful day. I'm so glad I got up and went to church. It's just these little things that make everything worthwhile. I got to drive through the most beautiful part of Erie this morning on my way to and from church, listening to the Tabernacle Choir in my car. I'm so glad to be here, to be working with these people and the kids to come, to be able to experience what I'm here to do. Oh, and I'm also really glad to have my car. :)

All I can suggest is that you take some time this Sunday to get out of the house and enjoy the sunshine (hopefully you have some, wherever you are) and just enjoy what life (and God) have given you. It's an awesome world, and we're meant to enjoy it.

Meeting Expectations

I've discovered over the years that there are certain people whom I will always want to please or impress--some to a greater degree than others. I can pinpoint these people, and I have a good relationship with each of them, albeit a very different relationship in each and every case.

For instance, there is my best friend. I always crave her good opinion of me, and I simultaneously always crave her own happiness. At the core of our relationship, however, is our religion--I feel that the closer I am to my religion, the more peaceful our relationship is. HOWEVER, this is the one person who I can completely be myself with. There is no one else whom I so completely trust, with every aspect of my life. I think everyone should have such a person.

I have another friend, a very close friend. We've gone through four years of college together, pursuing the same career--sometimes a cause for contention or competition, but most often a source of mutual aspirations. Despite everything, I always want to impress this dear friend with my prospects--where I'm working for the summer, where I'm going in six months, my dreams and goals. We've shared them for a long time. But recently we've kind of met a fork in the road--he got into grad school and I didn't. But in addition to that, I've realized that this road we've been traveling together isn't one I want to be on anymore. But, because of the nature of our friendship, I don't know how to explain to him that I don't share these mutual goals and aspirations anymore. The path that I want to take may not be as impressive to him, and I fear losing his respect.

There is my family, particularly my parents. For their sakes, I want to make something of myself. Pursuing our religion helps, but mostly I just want to be able to do things that make them proud of me. Oh, and my mother really wants grandchildren. I'll be perfectly happy to oblige her, as soon as I find their father.

I also have a favorite cousin, and I think for her it's good enough just to be myself. We've made similar mistakes, we share a lot of opinions, we share in the immediacy of our family, and she's honestly the one person whom I can talk childbirth with, without it getting awkward because I don't have my son anymore.

There are my high school friends--God bless them--who are dearer to me than nearly anything else in the world. For them, it's frequently a religion thing: am I dating, what's my calling, etc. They could often care less about my career, as long as its something that makes me happy. And as long as I'm doing SOMEthing. Hopefully soon I'll be able to remedy that. The only problem is that they don't want me to move away. My career would cause that, but my chosen career is becoming less appealing every day.

My professors, for the most part, want me to be successful at this chosen career--and NOT succumb to this religious inclination toward home and babies. Certainly, I want them to be proud of me also, but I think they are going to be the first ones I disappoint.

So what of myself? This is what puzzles me on a daily basis. What expectations do I hold for myself? They are often conflicting. I want to be successful, but as the days roll by, I more and more often question what exactly I want to succeed at. Certainly, there is much temporal glory to be had by being a woman pursuing a career. I have wanted that. But do I anymore? The older I get, the less that seems to matter. I used to mock women of my age (and younger) who settled down and started their families, without ever pursuing anything outside the home. I thought "They're not making anything of themselves, they're wasting their brains." But I don't really think that anymore. There are plenty of important things to do, at every stage of life. Pursuing a career is very grand, and I would love to do it. I love the theatre, I love the arts. But I don't think I could be content living that life. There is so much more to it.

I guess the greatest expectations I have to meet are the ones that HF and I work out between us--what satisfies His expectations while still generating my own happiness. I just have to figure them out, that's all.

Touching the Lives of Millions

President Gordon B. Hinckley has provided inspiration and leadership to a generation. He is *my* prophet--the prophet I will always claim, as my parents claim Spencer W. Kimball. He is the first prophet I remember well, his words have guided the most tumultuous parts of my life. I am glad he is now with his wife, and surely proclaiming the gospel far and wide in the spirit kingdom.

President Monson has already claimed my heart, in a different but wonderful way. He has been prepared by President Hinckley to take the reigns of the Church, and he will be an amazing prophet in his own right. My prayers are with him.

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Contentment

On the way home from Dixy's house tonight, I got caught up in this really reflective mood. As I passed Lehi, I couldn't help staring at the temple. You can see it for half of the valley. I had already been contemplating driving somewhere, because that was the mood I was in, so I took a detour and drove up to the temple.

Life's a little better. No less confusing, no less stressful, no less distressing in both its fullness and its lacks, but it's better. I'm content tonight, for the first time in ages.

Everything's going to be okay. I'll get a job eventually, and the right one. I'll get married in my own good time, to the right guy, at the right time and place. It's not complacency, don't fear. Just contentment.

Looking at the eternal perspective has a way of making everything seem okay. Definitely better.

Mercy...

...can come in many forms and disguises. It can come to help, to assist, to magnify, to warn and alert. It can cause us to work or it can finish our work for us. But it makes us whole.

My math professor has agreed to change my D+ to a C-. She'll take care of the paperwork when the school gets back from break, but essentially I'm in the clear, I'm a graduated woman. You have NO idea what relief I'm experiencing, the joy that I can at last share with my friends. Thank you, everybody involved and responsible for this little happening.

I had a job interview today. I essentially have the job, if I want it. But it conflicts with URTA. I wrote the schools to see if they are willing to move my interviews, but regardless, I'm wavering about the position. It just doesn't feel right. My friends--theatre or no, religious or no--you have to trust your gut. Furthermore, you can't take the first offer that comes along just for fear of not getting another. There are other jobs. This one is good, it sounds like fun, but it just doesn't feel right. Besides, grad school comes first.

I've been sick today. The flu, we think. A 24-hour bug, I think, because I'm starting to feel better. But it's left me some time to think. I was reading in Genesis today, kind of for the heck of it, really (as ironic as that is.) You know, Jacob got pretty shafted by Laban. He works seven years, hard labor for Rachel, then last second Laban swaps out for Leah. Although, me and my naughty little mind had to wonder what kind of customs they had that would mean a whole night with Leah before Jake figured out it wasn't his little sweetie. But you know, Leah has over half of Jacob's kids--six sons and one daughter, that we know of--and still Jacob doesn't love her. She dedicates her whole life to serving him and trying to win his love, but never gets it. God made Rachel barren for a long time, to compensate Leah. She was able to bear sons and Rachel wasn't, because God had mercy on Leah. Because Jacob didn't love her. He always just loves Rachel, even after she dies in childbirth on the way back to Isaac. Her whole life. She must have felt very lonely.