My Dad.

I am blessed with two parents that have shown me what hard work is.

My dad is a supervisor over sheet metal for USAir.
There was time when my dad worked for a smaller airplane company.
There was a time when my dad went back to school.
There was a time when my dad worked in Target. (He gave us free slices of cheese when we went to see him.)
There was a time when my dad worked in Charleston, South Carolina for two years and drove home every weekend to see us.

I remember growing up and watching him play city league softball, the turkey bowl, and pick-up basketball games. He did tough man competitions and boxed men in a ring.

He taught me how to eat my entire plate of food..and more.
He taught me to love The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and Jackson Browne.
He taught me to love boiled peanuts out of the can.
He taught me that when your sick colored gatorade is a bad idea.
He taught me that its easier to dance in front of people if you're in the middle of the crowd.

He helped me learn to drive.
He helped me learn how to ride a bike.
He helped me learn how to be comfortable with silence.
He helped me learn to persevere when times got tough.

Back in October my dad was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease.  It's called Transverse Myelitis and his body was attacking his lower spine making him lose control of his legs (among other things). It all happened within 72 hours and before we knew it he was hospitalized and nobody really knew what to do. It really shook my faith in a lot of things.

I've always known my dad to be mentally and physically strong. I've never known him to complain. He chops the wood, carries all the groceries, and he eats sardines. The doctors said with this disease happening so fast they didn't expect him to recover much. He was eventually sent to a rehab center for spinal injuries where he was expected to stay for a month. He was out in 11 days.

People, my dad is a champion. It's been a long recovery for him but he has never stopped improving. He taught his body how to walk again, and he is teaching it how to run again. He looks at everything as a blessing. In one conversation I had with him he told me that he is grateful to learn how to run again because he never learned how to do it properly when he was younger and now he has the chance.

I enjoy mocking his bad eyesight, his bad hearing, and the swagger that he walks with. But, truth me told, I don't think everyone could have recovered like he has. Many people would have given up and said its too much. Not everyone can push themselves, and not everyone can retrain their body to do simple things.

My dad is one of my heroes. He has shown me that there is no obstacle too big for us to accomplish. He has shown he what its like to allow trials to help your testimony grow. He has taught me how to never give up.


I will always remember the things my dad has done for me and I hope that one day my children can have a father that sets an example like he has for us.

I love you dad.
Thanks for everything you've done for me.
and always Maim and Kill.

Ode To My Hairbrush

I have this hairbrush.
Everyone makes fun of me for it.
He's a tough guy.
He is missing many of his protective plastic balls which means that metal sticks impale my scalp on the daily.
But how do you know a brush is really working if you can't hear it ripping through your hair?
Also, i'm bad at getting rid of old things.
Exactly.

Adriana has been telling me for years that I need to suck it up and buy a new hairbrush.
But how could I get rid of something that has helped me through:
-Proms
-Boys
-Late night concerts
-Night swims/sprinkler runs
-Different houses
-Different states
-Hair crisis.

This brush has been covered with
-Blonde hair
-Red hair
-Brown hair
-Really really dark brown hair
-Red/Violet hair
-And every step back to blonde.

Well, my friends, today was the day.
I walked into Forever 21 and saw they were selling brushes for $3.25.
And finally, Adriana convinced me to get a new one.
So, tearfully, I am out with the old and in with the new.

I am not the proud owner of a hairbrush that won't tear my scalp to pieces and lets everyone know how I feel about them.

Hooray.

I'm alive!
I'm done with my third year of college.
I can breathe again.

I'm happy these days.
And its a different kind of happy than just a forceful chemical balance happy.
I really am just happy.

I have many different jobs because i'm crazy and have zero self control and I worry all the time.
I'm a nanny.
I clean houses.
I'm a coach.
I'm a caterer.

This has been my life.

Jesse was Shrek! I got to fly home and see him perform..four times. 

Also, all the kids were in North Carolina for a solid 8 hours together before we all split back up. 

I went to conference. 

My LITERAL best friend forever got married. 

I went to Texas to see Lyndsi, Ken, and baby shortcake. 

I'm also dating this really cute guy who is so patient with me and likes to hold my hand.

I'm learning how to put myself first. 

I'm learning what I need to do to make myself happy.

I'm learning time management. 

I'm learning.

Hooray for summer. Hooray for this girl still being my other half. Hooray for sunshine. Hooray for learning. 

Hooray.

7 Reasons Why..

Last night I went to a ballet at BYU, Swan Lake to exact.
I felt very cultured, important, and ritzy.
Until I actually started to watch the Ballet and then I realized all the reasons I didn't fit in there.

1. I like to put my feet on the seat in front of me.
2. I make more sound breathing than the ballerinas do leaping across the stage.
3. Everyone claps so politely. We're talkin pat-your-palm-with-only-your-fingers-polite.
4. I am the least graceful person ever.
5. I'm a sloucher.
6. I like to take my shoes off when I get places.
7. What's a whisper?

Nevertheless, I stepped on some toes, slouched, clapped loudly, and took my shoes off.