Being Right

I like being right. I'm smart, and I like to believe I have common sense. But as I've gotten older, I've noticed I'm right less often. And I've been thinking about it, and I don't think it's because I'm actually wrong more often than I was in high school. I think I'm right less often because I don't want to be right all the time.

Now don't go thinking that means I want to be wrong about stuff (excepting being wrong about depressing future event possibilities). But I've come to realize that as a mortal, I'm just going to be wrong sometimes. And that's ok. It's ok that I didn't know, it's ok that my idea didn't work, it's ok that I can't spell or talk sometimes. I think this is a healthy attitude to have. I know it takes less energy than being right all the time.

Think about it: If I have to be right all the time, I have to know everything. I have to be smarter and more knowledgeable than every one else I come in contact with, and if they want to argue with me, I have to take the time and energy to convince them that I'm right or at least spew forth enough proof that they feel beaten and stop. That's way more energy than it takes to say, "Yep. You're right." or "I was wrong."

Sure, saying those three little words is hard, but I think they are as important as three other little words (I love you) are for maintaining a healthy relationship. Acknowledging that the other person is smart and knowledgeable and sometimes more creative than you is a wonderful way to help them feel needed and wanted.

In connection with this, being willing to be wrong means picking your battles. Sometimes, even if you're right, it's just not worth the energy and tension and time an argument to prove it takes. If your significant other says, "I just killed a spider, and now there are bug guts on my floor," I've learned that the correct answer is, "Eww, I'm sorry you had to deal with that," not, "They aren't bug guts. Spiders aren't bugs." It's just not a battle worth fighting, especially if it will make your loved one feel stupid or put down when you say it. Being right about what is a bug isn't worth a person's self-esteem.

So as I've grown, I've learned that I don't mind being wrong. Or being right and not having anyone know. It's ok. I'm mortal, you're mortal, and we can both be wrong together. Or both right. And it's ok.

New Apartment!!!

It's been a while since I posted, but I have a seriously awesome reason: I've been moving!!! That's right, I have my own place now. I can't express how excited and happy this makes me.

How I Got The Place:

My visiting teacher had just come over, and after the obligatory "What can we do for you?" I said, "Find me an apartment or a job." Brie took me seriously (which is good, 'cause I was serious). The next day she sent me a message on Facebook about an apartment a friend or a friend of a friend had available and asked if I wanted the contact info. Of course I did! So I called Marianne up and after a few missed calls, we set up a time for me to tour the place. I fell in love with the little place.

Oddly, on the same day, my co-worker Bret told me that the apartment above his place had an open room that I should check out. So I went over there too. I walked in and saw dishes in the sink and assorted stuff in the hallway and went, "NO!! I can't do this again! No roommates!" (To be fair, the girls seemed nice enough--I've just done 4 years of college and 18 months of mission--I'm so ready for my own place.)

So I called Marianne and asked when I could move in. They did a bit of painting and wa-la! I moved in on Monday (started bringing over boxes on Friday) and have slept here since Tuesday. :)

The Tour:

So now, of course, I have to give a tour. We are in River Heights now. :)
Begin:

Here we are, parked in the driveway. I get the left spot.

Now we'll walk to my front (and only) door.

There's the important porch light too. :)

Knock knock. Come in!!!

The Living Room

The Kitchen

These two "rooms" make an L-shape. Up the stairs in the kitchen is my bedroom:

Yes, that is a king-size bed. :O

They provided the bed and the bookcases. :)

This is from the loft right above the stairs.

I'm sleeping in there, and not much else. The ceiling is so low that even I can't stand up straight in there!! But that's ok. :)

The Living Room again. 

My "new" couch! $30 at DI!

The closet is full of shelves and rods,
so I have all my clothes out here.

They also provided a TV with cable, and wireless internet. 

The closet on the right is just for storage.
The one on the left isn't a closet at all.

That door leads to their house, through a "secret passageway." It locks from this side though, so I don't have to worry.

Nothing too exciting here; just a Bathroom.

No tub in here, but the shower works just fine.
It's not a very big bathroom.

Well, really, that's it. See? You can practically see the whole place from here:

So it's not super big--cozy is a better word--but I love it. I feel like I have plenty of room for me, and I can spread out my projects and make my own messes and not have any one else in the way.

Bonus!

My couch is more awesome than I thought it was when I bought. I didn't see that it reclined, but it does!

Yes, I am working on this post right now.

And I don't know if you can tell from this picture, but in case you didn't know, my hair is black now. :) I dyed it a few weeks ago now. And I love it too. 

Thanks for taking the virtual tour. Please come and visit me for reals! I love company! (Give me a heads up first though--I spend a lot of time at work.)

Snow!

Disclaimer: I love the snow. It's beautiful and wonderful. So I'm going to be enthusiastic about snow in this post, and try to get you to be excited about it too, or at least mitigate your dislike.

It started Sunday at church, during Primary. One of the leaders told the kids it was snowing. So of course, we when got to our classroom, we had to open the window and look at the snow. The kids got a little excited, and then we continued with snack time and the lesson. I smiled and kept my voice calm, but it was a front.

Inside, I was jumping up and down and repeating in a sing-songy, rather loud way: "It's snowing! It's snowing!!!" The aforementioned snow continued all day, with bursts of bigger, more intense flurries. That night, the total accumulation topped out at 7 inches.

On the USU campus. Taken by yours truly.

Hooray!!!! Now, I know, I know, shoveling snow is a pain, and driving in the snow, especially with beginners (read that as idiots) out there on the road with you, can be dangerous. But snow is such a good thing!

I had a friend ask me why I liked the snow so much, and I said "just because" basically. His response was "Water is water, why can't it just rain instead?"

I started wondering about that, and not just because the rain is depressing to me when it last multiple days in a row. So I asked my dad, my house's general science knowledge guru, and he provided this explanation (I'm paraphrasing from memory here):

"Even though it takes several inches of snow to make one inch of water, think about what would happen if it rained as much water as it snowed today." I thought about it--"We'd probably have a flood." He nods. "Not probably; we would. And it would wash away everything; this is a desert--not built to handle that much water at a time. Now think about the snow in the mountains. Why is the snowpack up there important?"

"The skiers like it? No, ok, seriously, it's because in the summer it melts and gives us water." I replied.

"Right. And it gives it to us slowly, again preventing flooding. The snow stays in the valleys and shaded spots and doesn't melt. If we got all this water as rain, we'd need reservoirs or something to catch and hold all that water." Dad added.

"So, especially in a desert, snow is a better option than rain for bringing water." I summed up, happy to have proof that my snow is a wonderful thing.

The Logan mountains, from USU

The Wellsville mountains, being awesome water collectors.

The mountains to the north end of Cache Valley.

So there's your scientifical reason that snow is awesome. And now for my artsy reason: snow if beautiful! And I'm going to prove it. I had some time to spare before my class yesterday, so I pulled out my camera. I don't claim to be a professional photographer, or even a good one, but I think these turned out well, mostly thanks to the snow:

Aren't the trees prettier with snow on them?

Snow pile from clearing the walks.
 It's probably as tall as I am (which, while, short for a human, is pretty tall).

I like the contrast the leaves on the left create.

I love the berries in the snow.
Also, one of my favorite photos from my excursion.

Again, a splash of color makes the snow just beautiful.

I'm quite pleased with this one.

Looking straight up at the tree.

Another favorite. I did pretty good with getting the focus right, I think.

Christmas! In January.

I want to sit on that big branch and throw snowballs at oblivious students.

 And one more, just because I can. I took this from the parking garage (Aggie Terrace, for my USU friends), along with most of the mountain pictures. The lighting was fantastic on the mountains, I must say.

Must have one photo of the temple.

And, just to make me happy for the rest of the week, God is sending another storm tomorrow!

(And no, it has nothing to do with the snow pack or the water shed--well, ok, maybe a little--God looks out for the farmers too.)

Being Sick

Well, I'm in jeans and a t-shirt for the first time since Monday. That's one of my symptoms when I'm sick: an absolute refusal to dress up for anything. It started Monday night on the way back from my sister's house. I was sitting by the window, and I was just so cold! When I got in the house, it didn't get any better. I crawled in bed and shivered for a while, text my boss and let her know I probably needed a substitute at work, then changed into my pjs after the shivering stopped and went to bed.

It all went downhill from there. Tuesday morning, I woke up with body aches, a headache, a snuffy nose, a sore throat, and still freezing. So I laid in bed pretty much all day, minus a few trips to the bathroom and the kitchen. And I stayed in my pjs. I just felt blah. Good thing I didn't have to go into work.

Wednesday wasn't much better. I had a spell of lightheadedness hit me right when a wave of nausea did. So I found the china hutch on my way to the sink. Thankfully, I didn't throw up, but I did manage to smack my eye smartly on the hutch. So I laid on my bed for several hours. That helped. I still couldn't believe through my nose, and my neck was so sore I pulled out a hot water bottle. But I showered and changed from my pjs to some super casual comfy clothes.

Today though, is looking up. I am not nearly as sore, I can breathe through my nose, and my eye doesn't seem to have any permanent damage. I'm even going to go to work today. I'm dressed in normal clothes (jeans and a t-shirt) and actually feel like I have energy today.

But the last three paragraphs aren't really what I want to write about in this post. So many people were concerned for me while I was sick: my manager, my co-workers (at least the ones who knew), friends from Facebook, people at church, and others who keep in touch with me. They all wanted to know if there was anything they could do for me, even offering to travel 50+ miles to help. And there wasn't much any of them could do, except the two co-workers who where able to cover my shifts, but it sure was comforting to know that they would.

Sometimes I think we get sick just so we can be reminded that people care about us. It's easy to forget when life is going well. But we you're sick, it seems like more people reach out. So thank you, friends, for reaching out. I am very thankful for the reminder that my friends care, and that I have so many of them.

I Can't and His Brother You Can't Need to Die!

I thought about my high school physics class today. My teacher, Mr. Sager, was awesome. He did have two quirks though: one, he refused to buy new tennis shoes until he received a raise, and two, he had a list of words/phrases that weren't allowed in his classroom.

I want to talk a little more about that second quirk. This was a small high school, so Mr Sager taught freshmen through seniors. The list was the same for all grades, though the punishment for using the words was not. As freshmen, if we used the words (I'll tell you them in a minute) we had to write "I will not say ____ in class" 25 times. As seniors, there was a 25 cent fine. Sometimes, a senior would just toss Mr. Sager a quarter and say one of the words anyway, but most of us were careful not to use them.

The list wasn't very long. And if any of my high school classmates read this and notice I'm missing one, let me know in the comments.

• swear words
• sorry (I might talk about this in another post)
• I can't

At first I was confused why Mr. Sager thought "I can't" was so awful to say. But then as kids said "I can't figure this out! This is stupid!" or similar thoughts, it clicked. When we say "I can't" we are making a statement that sticks.

"I Can't" is a disease. It infects the mind and makes us believe we are limited. And we are not limited! We can do anything, if we think we can. Like the Little Engine That Could. We just have to try. So if "I Can't" disappears from our vocabulary, then endless possibilities open up to us. 

"I Can't" has a brother, and he is more terrible than "I Can't" is. "You Can't" is a terrible bully. He swoops in uninvited and destroys dreams. I remember as a freshman, I wanted to try out for the show choir. I couldn't sing all that well, but I thought it looked like fun. So I started preparing a song to sing--a solo. I was pretty nervous, but I thought I could do it. Then my mom chatted with me about it. I can't remember if she used "You Can't" exactly, but the feeling behind "You Can't" was there. She was nervous that I wouldn't make the team, that I couldn't learn the dance moves, or fit in with the group. She convinced me not to try out.

So I didn't. I was already nervous about it, and after "You Can't" came through, my dream shriveled, and then "I Can't" stuck around and killed the dream. See, "You Can't" likes to bring "I Can't" along for the ride. And most of the time "You Can't" leaves. The person who said it moves on and forgets they even said it. But "You Can't" helps "I Can't" grow inside you, and then "I Can't" takes over and kills your dreams.

To finish the show choir story, the next year my sister decided to try out. She was more confident and if my mom told her she couldn't, she must have ignored her, because she tried out and made the team. She loved it. She learned lots and made many friends. A few years later, my brother was a freshman, and he tried out, and he made the show choir team too. And he loved it as well.

Looking back, I bet I could have tried out and gotten on the team too. But "You Can't" and "I Can't" stole that from me.

I've met several people with a similar problems. Someone somewhere told them "You Can't" and now they say "I Can't" all the time. They are limited in their choices because "You Can't" and "I Can't" have infected them.

So my point and hope is that we should be careful of saying "You Can't". Of course, I'm not talking about "You can't play in the street." I'm talking about "You Can't sing," or "You Can't be a business owner" or "You are in a wheelchair, You Can't drive." Let's kill "You Can't"!

And while we're at it, let's kill "I Can't" too. We can do anything, if we think we can!

Hot and Cold

It's a toasty -8 degrees (Fahrenheit, since I'm in the United States) right now. Gosh! I think I want to be in Australia right now. I don't mind the cold though, really. I'd much rather be too cold than too hot.

You see, "too cold" is easy to fix, unless you're feeling super lazy, like I am at the moment, and don't want to get up to grab your jacket. The solution to "too cold" is simply more layers. If you get enough jackets, hats, scarfs, gloves, blankets, and socks, you will eventually be warm enough. Hot cocoa also helps with this. So do cuddle buddies. :D

"Too hot" on the other hand, is a pain to fix. You strip down to almost nothing (or maybe even nothing, if you really feel so inclined) and then what? You are still hot! So you jump into a cool body of water. That works, as long as you stay there. But when you become a prune, you get out and you're still hot. Yuck. Or worse, it's humid and hot, so then getting wet is a moot point. You're already sweating so much, jumping in the water doesn't make a difference.

Therefore, I will continue to live in places like Utah or Iceland, instead of Georgia or Australia. I'll keep my hot cocoa, sweatshirt, blanket, good book, fireplace, and comfy chair (wow, I should just add by a window with a gentle snow falling--isn't that the perfect moment?), and you can keep your beach and your humidity and your sunburns.

Stay temperate, friends!

Getting Started

This is hard for me. I find it rather presumptuous and arrogant to assume that stuff I write for myself would be of interest to other people. Stuff I write for school or work or church, sure, since it's designed for an audience. And I guess a blog can be designed for an audience too, but well, that's not what this one is really for.

Ok. so maybe I'm lying. Maybe, hidden beneath the layers of propriety and modesty I've been taught to wear, I really believe my thoughts are awesome and incredible and totally worth sharing and listening to. I'll freely admit that I believe I am intelligent, and that most of my friends and co-workers would agree with me. (There are a few, having seen my silly moments, that may disagree.) So, while I don't think I am capable of fixing the world's problems, I do feel like people should listen to more of my ideas.

For example, why aren't more people like me when it comes to celebrities? I like movies and music just as much as anyone, but who cares what Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie do in their spare time? Or what color Brittney Spears' underwear is? There are so many magazines and tv shows and internet stuff devoted to stalking people who are famous for being able to sing or being able to pretend to be someone else. (As a side note, some of these people are famous for being able to pretend to sing and being someone else.)

I think the world would be a better place if people quietly acknowledged the talent it takes to sing or act, and then MOVED ON. Let actors and (to be politically correct) actresses and singers have normal lives. Stop encouraging them to do drastic things to stay in the headlines. Instead, follow and love your family and friends. Find out what they love and think about. Stop caring about what some person, who doesn't know you exist, feels about drowning puppies.

Ok, venting over. And I have no idea if this is a good first post for this. I promise not to vent every time I post something. Most of the time, this will be a place of happy thoughts. :)

Later!