Terrible Tuesday

3 March 2007

So, I hate Tuesdays just because they are prodigiously long and obnoxious (for me and my retarded schedule), but this week's was trashcan worthy. No, WAIT...that isn't disgusting enough. I'd say it was dumpster or landfill material...perhaps even toxic waste would justify a good description.

And it came to pass...
I started my morning in a manic/cranky manner, as usual. But during my morning blah, I had several thoughts that went something like this: "self, just wear glasses." In response, though, I went on to think, "that's retarded. I'll be fine," + ended up pushing the reoccurring idea to the back of my noggin'.

If ye go contrary to that which has been spoken, that ye withdraw yourselves form the spirit of the Lord, that it may have no place in you to guide you in wisdom's paths...
Lo and behold, my contacts decided to give me havoc. Throughout the day, I couldn't see and was unfocused in my classes. There was no point in my being in class (since I wasn't getting anything out of it) so I headed to the ladies room.
Basically... I attempted to rinse out my devilish contacts. Apperently, I failed miserably. I plopped them back in and moved 'em around, trying to get them to adjust. There must have been a piece of makeup or eyelash in the one, though, because my eye began to scream at me (metaphorically speaking, of course. I am glad that body parts can't really communicate, it would be freaky). I then proceeded to trashing the lenses.

And there was wailing and gnashing of teeth...
I-- being a retard-- remained in the bathroom, going through toilet paper like no other, because my eye spasm decided to invite my sinuses to the show. I was naively hoping that the pain would cease. Finally, ("here [she] come[s] to save the day") a girl of brilliance assisted me to the building's main office. I was blind, by this point, and in tremendous pain. I told them my situation and was led, like a dog on a leash, to the health and wellness center. It turns out that I had managed to scratch my cornea. It took like two hours for them to tell me this (after a junk-load of useless questioning) and I was then sent home to endure the rest of the day. It was disgusting. We hit a traffic jam and with my lack of sight, combined with the stop/go situation, things were "Mmmm good", only not. I became car-sick and vomited all over the car. :(.

Later that night, Bro. Durrant and my poppy gave me a blessing. It was very comforting (physically and emotionally). I love the priesthood. <3. style="font-style:italic;"> Words of advice = Don't hurt your eye; it is not fun.

Seven Reasons for a Season

I'm glad it is finally getting cool/cold outside. I love the fall!

Reason One =
There are lots of deep colors-- shades of a sunset. It is interesting how death can be so beautiful. After all, that is a majority of what this season is-- lots of dying leaves and plants; but, as morbid as it may seem, I love it! Anyways, I love this season for more reasons than a fascination with death... If you 're gonna die, though, you might as well go out with color, haha.

Reason Two =
The trees finally get a chance to sleep! I know how much I love to sleep and can only imagine that a rest for them has to feel fantastic. I forget how grateful I should be to be able to take a good long 8 hourish nap every night until September and October show up and I'm reminded that trees have to wait many months for a break.

Reason Three =
It is harvest time! Squash, pumpkins, zucchini, and etc. are big and deliciously ready for me to devour!

Reason Four =
I get to where coats, jackets, scarves, hats, gloves, sweaters, and the like! I like clothes, especially when it comes to fall and winter fashions and accessories! This is stereotyped as being extremely girly, but what can I say to that? Hmmm... I'll say that it probably has something to do with my vain streak, haha. Also, I'm of the opinion that I can be girly if I want to-- especially since I am a girl.

Reason Five =
Reverting to a mental image of dead leaves... um... I can jump into big piles of them! :)

Reason Six =
It is the beginning of "the holidays."

Reason Seven =
It rocks enough that, from the bleachers in my head, I can almost hear mini Brookes cheering with glee: "Give me an F! Give me an A! Give me a set of L's! Go, Fall ,go!" ;)

Colors!

My favorite color is yellow, but if you were to put two objects-- a yellow one and a green one-- before me, I'd tell you that I prefer the green one. I love the way the color green makes my eyes stand out. This may be a completely vain attribute of me, but there ya have it. I have a vain streak... who doesn't? If I prefer the color green, in most cases, why isn't green my favorite color? Well, let me explain myself. I love the brightness of yellow. It reminds me of sunshine and the idea of such spunky and yet beautiful warmth makes me smile. I want to be bright, spunky, and beautiful just like it. Plus, from a printer's perspective (not that I am or ever have been a printer, haha), yellow is the color that gives life to all other colors on the printed page. It is a wonderful color! What else can I say? Probably a lot, actually... :)

Spring

It is starting to get warm again! In reality, there are spurts of random cold spells sprinkled with snowflakes, but in general spring is "just around the river bend," as Disney's Pocahontas would say (actually, she'd be singing that phrase... haha).

I forget how much I love the sound of birds, every year. Also, the budding leaves and flowers are soo beautiful. The newness of growth (maybe, it's just the surge of energy from my high protein diet) makes me want to burst into song. If my whits would permit, I'd love to just sing happy spring songs while walking to and from class.

An Up to Date...ish

An excerpt from a recent email to friend is below to fill you in on the recent happenings of my life (Reader's Digest Version.... haha).

I've loved almost every moment of Christmas Break. I'm sad to see it coming to an end. I know, I know... I should be glad for the lengthy amount of time that I had off (especially when [blogging to people] who [have probably had] less time than me) and I am, but it is just that school is not the most pleasant of thoughts after such a glorious vacation! Do you now what I mean?

I read, spent time with buddies and family, slept, and filled the Brookometer back to full. Oh, and guess what?!?!?! Patrick and Christine are going to have a baby!!! I'm going to have another niece or nephew by August. [My family] is getting bigger everyday!

During the past few weeks, I've done a lot of buying and selling books on half.com. * $$$* It has been as fun as selling and buying books can be. I've been needing to get rid of my old textbooks. They were beginning to take over my closet and book shelves. It feels good to have a few of them out of my hands and to have space for the new-comers that are assigned with this semester's slew of classes. I'm signed up for 12 credits (the bare minimum that I need in order to have financial aid). I'm hoping that cutting down my load will help me do better in my classes. I've had some not lovely past semesters and want this one to be all about the good grades.

I'm still teaching piano/violin lessons and love it!!!!! I'm trying to plan a recital for February, but we'll see if I can organize one with all of the varying schedules that I have to deal with. Haha. It should be fun! I'm also still working for E.N.C.O.R.E by playing for musicals. I've accompanied "Sleeping Beauty" and "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" and am lined up for "Seussical the Musical" in the spring. I can't wait! I love being able to use music in my life and jobs. Good times, let me tell you!

Of Good Choices and Great Opportunities

Being in a singles' branch, I am reminded constantly of the importance of dating and getting married. I know that marriage should be the ultimate goal of an individual attending a branch of this type, but-- in my case (at least originally)-- the singles' branch was simply an opportunity to socialize with people who were and are in similar circumstances of life and learning as me.

My choice to associate with singles, like all choices, has been accompanied by consequences. It has been wonderful to be able to make friends and feel like, for the first time in my life, that I fit in! And yet, I also feel like I am growing up too fast. Being in college and surrounded by older single adults has given me experience that would have been shielded from me, had I stayed in high school for the usual amount of time.

I have dated all sorts of men (hey, I've even had a few marriage proposals!) and I've been attending a singles ward, institute, and college for three years now. All of this should be new to me, since I am only an 18-year-old girl, but it is not. I am used to all of it. In fact, I am starting to get tired of it all.

People often ask me, "Brooke, if you could go back in time, would you decided to stay in high school?" My reply is always the same, " No. The choice to go to college has given me some hard consequences, but it has been the best decision of my life. If I had the chance to go back in time, even with the knowledge that I have about how it would all turn out, I would choose college over high school, any day." And I would, too! After all, I prayed about that decision and felt like attending college was what I needed to do. As hard as it may be, at times, I still feel comforted in my choice.

With that said, I return to the idea of growing myself up too fast. I have one more year until I graduate with a BA, when a normal girl my age would be barely starting off at a new school as a Freshman-- the world of college being new, fresh, and exciting. It is insane to think about! I am excited to think of how far ahead I am in the world in comparison to that little freshman girl, though.

I have the advantage of a few years of experience. I'll be able to graduate, before I marry (that is, if I ever marry). I'll be able to get a nice, stable job and start really supporting myself (hopefully, anyhow... haha). I'll also probably be able to go to Graduate school. There is so much I can do with my life! Thousands of doors are wide open for me-- each one filled with a dozen fabulous opportunities. I am one lucky girl! I just hope that I can make the most of it.

I haven't done my best, in the past, but today is a new day and a bright future can be mine, if I give it my all and always rely upon the Lord to make up for the difference.

I know...

[If there are any questions about the below please ask me, check out http://www.mormon.org/, http://www.lds.net/, http://www.lds.org/, or talk with your friendly neighborhood LDS missionaries. :) ]

I am a woman with strong christian beliefs, a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (in other words... I'm Mormon), and I know that by the power of prayer anyone can obtain a knowledge of loving heavenly parents and a brother, the Savior, Jesus Christ. How do I know this? Well, let me tell you my story...

I was born into an LDS (Latter-day Saint) family and raised in the church. I remember going to church every week. Sundays were very special.

I loved getting up early and having my mom and grandma (we lived with my grandparents for the first five years of my life) help me curl my long blonde hair and put on a pretty dress. My Grandma would sometimes make us breakfast and she would turn on reverent music (usually the Mormon Tabernacle Choir) as she cooked and finished getting ready for the day. This would set such a peaceful mood.

Primary was amazing! Being with other little kids, to sing songs and learn about the gospel was a very sweet experience. To this day, primary songs have a tender spot in my heart.

When I turned eight-years-old, I was old enough to make my own decision as to whether or not I wanted to be baptized. Looking back on it, I'm not sure that I fully understood the hugeness of the covenants that I was undertaking, but I knew enough. I knew that I wanted to be good and to choose the right. I knew that Christ was baptized and, since he was the perfect example, I knew that I should be baptized, as well.

At my baptism, I remember that, once I had come back out of the water, I felt clean. It was like I was shining from head to toe. I felt warm and cozy-- as if I had received the best hug ever! The next Sunday, I was confirmed and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. This gift has been a major comfort and guide in my life. I have continued to grow and it has helped me make wise decisions and be comforted when things get tough.

The years went by and, eventually, I turned twelve. At this age girls and boys graduated from primary and moved into Young Men's and Young Women's (otherwise known as Youth Group or Mutual). Activities, leaders, and friends were there to help and support me.

The summer after I turned 13, I found a Book of Mormon with my older brother's testimony in the back of it. He first read the whole thing, cover to cover, at the age of 12. Seeing this, I decided to read the Book of Mormon, too. I'd heard some of its stories in Sunday School classes and Sacrament meeting talks.

At first, that was all it was to me-- stories. I read nonchalantly until I reached the book of Enos. That day, my mom and I were driving around and running errands when my progress with reading became the topic of conversation. I told her how much I'd read and she responded with a question that changed everything.

"So... Do you know it's true, yet?" she asked.

At this, I was hit with a realization. "No," I admitted. I had no idea whether or not it was true. I'd heard it was true from family members and church leaders, but I-- for the first time in my life-- didn't want to blindly rely on their words. I wanted to know for myself! After all, if the Book of Mormon wasn't true, then that meant that Joseph Smith didn't translate it correctly. For all I knew, he could have made up the whole thing! If this was the case, then he must not have been an inspired man of God; and if he wasn't a prophet, then the whole church that was supposedly restored through him would have to not be true, as well. This would mean that everything I had been taught throughout my whole life (concerning religion) would have to be wrong. With this train of thought, I began to doubt and question everything. If none of this was true, then I needed to find out for myself so that I could move on with my life. I didn't want to continue "wasting my time" with an untrue church. That would have been pointless.

Reading the Book of Mormon, from that day on, became a quest for knowledge and truth. I prayed to know, without a doubt, whether or not its writings were true, whether or not all of its doctrines were true, and if the prophets and church leaders were are all called of God. I needed to know! Not knowing was driving me insane.

This process of searching for an answer took time. My life consisted of nothing else but reading, praying and searching for answers. Finally, one day, I came across a scripture in Moroni that promised that through the whisperings of the Holy Ghost, a person could know and understand all things. Moroni states:

Behold, I exort you that when ye shall read these things, if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them that ye would remember how merciful the Lord hath been to the children of men, from the creation of Adam even down until the time that ye shall receive these things, and ponder it in your hearts. And when ye shall receive these things, I would exort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things. (Moroni 10:3-5)

When I read this, my resolve to discover the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and everything having to do with the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was strengthened for a final push. I was in the concluding chapter of the book and my faith was beginning to wane. I needed to know, I yearned to know.

At church, during the sacrament hymn, I tried focusing on the words as the congregation sang about the Savior. The words pounded into my head-- words about a man who had supposedly suffered the Atonement for me and for everyone. My mind turned to my recent readings about the Savior. In the book of 3 Nephi, in The Book of Mormon, he comes to visit the people on the American continent after his resurrection. They were the lost sheep that he spoke of in The New Testament. It all made sense. It had to be true, but I wasn't sure, yet. I wanted to be sure so that if anyone asked me if I knew, I could honestly answer them. I closed my eyes and silently offered up one more prayer. I pled with God to know-- to know so that I couldn't question!

All of the sudden, I was filled with warmth. It was as if a light bulb had gone off in my head and in my heart. The clouds of uncertainty lifted and I just knew. The Book of Mormon is true! Jesus is the Christ! God is my father in Heaven! Joseph Smith was a prophet! Gordon B. Hinckley was the president of the church, then, and he was a true prophet, too! Everything came together in a rush of knowledge. The Holy Ghost spoke to my heart of the truthfulness of all of it and my chest burned with emotion. I was crying because the experience was so overpowering. I felt such joy and gratitude for a Heavenly Father who listened to my many prayers and answered every single one. It was amazing!

I gained my own testimony that day and am glad to say that I do know, now. I carried this knowledge with me through the remainder of my jr. high and high school years. It has gone with me to college and I am constantly reminded of the sweetness and truth of the gospel through my studies, prayers, and attendance in my singles' ward and institute classes. I pray to always remember this knowledge and to have the courage to share it with others so that they might come to know, as well.

I know...

I know that Jesus was born to Mary about 2000 years ago. I know that he lived a perfect life, suffered the Atonement, bled from every pore, was crucified, and was resurrected for me and for every person who ever lived and who ever will live. He knows and loves me. He suffered through all of my pains and has atoned for all of my sins so that I might not be alone through the trials of this life and so that I can repent and be clean again. Oh, how I love the Savior!!!!

I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet. Before that, though, he was a young boy who lived at a time of great religious excitement. He questioned truth and had the faith to ask, in prayer, about which of the churches he should join. In a grove of trees, he knelt in prayer. His prayer was answered! Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father appeared to him and told him to join none of them.
It was through this young boy's faith, that the gospel was restored upon the earth in all of its fullness. Through the authority/keys of the Priesthood, the church of Christ and the ordinances, doctrines, revelations, scriptures, and etc. are once again upon the earth!

I know that the Book of Mormon is true scripture. I have read it and have felt the beautiful promptings of the Holy ghost while doing so. It, alongside the Bible, is another testament of Christ. It is a record of a people who lived on the American continent-- their dealings with God, the Savior, and each other. It was translated by Joseph Smith with the assistance of the Urim and Thummim. Though it be a record of ancient inhabitants, its writings have the ability to change lives for the better, comfort hearts, and inspire those who read it, today.

I know that temples are holy places, houses of the Lord. I know that the ordinances done in temples (for the living and dead) make it possible for families to be together forever.

I know that God loves me, that I am his daughter, and that he wants me to be happy. He listens to my prayers and answers each and everyone of them. Prayer is powerful! Miracles happen everyday because of simple prayers. I know that "with God, nothing is impossible" (Luke 1:37).

I know that anyone can come to this knowledge and find answers to any question through careful study and earnest prayer.

I know these things and so much more.... It is so wonderful!!!!! and I thank my God for all of it!

I testify of these things and close this blog entry in Jesus Christ's sacred name. Amen. :)

Bubble Sheet Blues

[As you have probably already guessed... I'm a fan of using my other sources of writing to create blogs. I lack a sense of creativity, I suppose. Hehe. Sooo yeah.... Below is an excerpt of an email that I sent my friend, yesterday. If you're reading this, dear friend, I hope you don't mind me snatching this from our correspondence. Thanks!]


Guess what? *sigh* (and I really did just sigh, too) I had an econ test today, for which I studied hardcore (and by studied hardcore I mean that I seriously crammed) I even stayed on campus until midnight, last night. It was awesome!. I felt prepared, I'm pretty sure that I was prepared, and I think that, answer-wise, I did pretty well on the exam this morning. I took the full hour and was feeling pretty good about the whole situation (I knew that I'd probably missed a few, but hey... this was the best I'd ever felt after an econ exam), and then I turned in the bubble sheet and suddenly every happy emotion I had previously been feeling was replaced with heart-dropping nastiness.

I had forgotten to fill in the bubbles of my name and ID number! My teacher, after noticing this, transformed from her happy nice self into a monster. "You know you're losing 75 points for turning it in like this!" she angrily piped. What am I supposed to say to that? " Yup! I know, I planned it that way. I figured that failing my first test would be the way to go!" Yeah right! I felt retarded. My name was on the bubble sheet line on the opposite side of the paper. Who designed bubble sheets anyhow? The identification bubbles should be on the front so that forgetful/loserish people, like myself, will remember to fill them in. AHHH!

I apologized and asked if she would pity me. Her reply, "It's not my sorry it is your sorry." I was like "I know. Hence why I said I'm sorry not you're sorry." I actually said that, can you believe?!? It was definitely not the best moment of my life. Even with my dumb remark, she did eventually give in to my pleas by letting me buy an opportunity to fill in the stupid bubbles. I ended up sacrificing 15 glorious points!!!!! That is an automatic 85 % ( if I aced the exam... and I know that didn't happen.) I should be grateful for the second chance. 15 points is definitely better than 75!!!!! Stupid bubble sheet. I had my name on everything, even the bubble sheet... just not in the bubbles. :(

After this annoying escapade, I ended up losing control of my emotions and bawling in the girl's restroom. It was pathetic. I couldn't stop crying and I'm not an attractive crier. I managed to pull myself together enough so that I was only a few minutes late to my next class. I think my teacher forgave me for being late the instant I walked through the door, due to my red face, blood-shot eyes, and puffy cheeks. I received the "are you alright?" look from everyone. It was nice to know that they all care about my well being, but still... Crying because of a bad grade-- a total Brooke thing to do and yet very embarrassing. I hate it when high hopes are crushed so unexpectedly.

And More of My Past...

6/25/07

At Dave's wedding (which was in California), I had as much fun as girl could have.... I suppose. My new sister-in-law was pretty much a scary bridezilla, towards the end of the festivities the poor thing was probably stressed out of her mind). Throughout the whole planning process, she has wanted everything to be just right (and by "right" I mean that everything had to be the perfect shade of baby blue). It was nice to get away from my everyday surroundings and see a few relatives, though.

My parents, grandparents, and siblings shared two rooms at a really cheap motel. When we weren't helping out with reception preparations, we got a chance to do our own thing. During the beginning of our Californian adventure, we did a lot of window shopping. Chino certainly has a collection of little malls!

Also, My eldest brother, his wife, and I skipped church to go to the San Diego Zoo, see the ocean, and party. I hardly ever get to see those two and it was awesome to finally have a chance to hang with 'em (<--- is my rationalization for breaking the sabbath day, haha). The next day, before we headed back on the plane, we (the same siblings just mentioned, my parents, grandparents, and I) took a quick run through of Downtown Disney. My mom and I even looked through the ticket gates, into Disneyland. We couldn't see much, if anything, but it was a free bit of excitement. Okay, okay. It wasn't exactly free. After all, I did end up spending some mula on a Tinkerbell key chain. I wasn't going to spend a dime (I'm trying to save up enough cash for a car, ya know?), but it was gorgeous and I figured that I might not get to go back to LA (let alone Disneyland... not that I was even inside the real thing, but hey...) and I wanted a little souvenir.

We were home for about three days when my pop decided that we should go to the Lott family reunion. So, that is where I have been all weekend. My grandparents have a ranch up in northern Washington (basically on the border of Canada). Every family reunion, that I can remember, has been held there. I have so many good memories of hiking up the mountain, messing around with my cousins, playing on the beach of the Colombian River, shopping in Canada, running around the RV park (that my grandparents own), having bonfires, going on hayrides, doing service projects, feeding the animals, watching and being apart of family musical ensembles and skits, making movies (of course... :)), and the list is pretty much infinite. This trip just wasn't the same, though. All of my brothers are grown up and couldn't come (due to jobs and honeymoons) and all of the cousins, that I am close to, weren't there (except for a few who showed up on Saturday). I had a hard time connecting with most of the kids. I did, however, enjoy my time with all of the adults, which is a new thing (for that side of the family). It is good that-- because I am constantly around adults-- I can now enjoy real conversations with my aunts and uncles, but I seriously need to keep in better contact with my little cousins. I hate awkwardness, especially with members of my own family!

We left Boise on Friday morning, bright and early, and arrived about 10 hours later. The car ride to North Port is hard on person's rear-end and legs... "ouch". I was crammed in the back of my dad's pickup truck. By the end of the road, my southern half was starting to go numb! It was a long trip to have only stayed one full day, but that is just we did. Saturday was slam packed day full of the usual family reunion activities. And on Sunday, before everyone went to church we had a family photo, picked up a piano (my dad is never way from his job, I swear), tied it down in the back of the truck, and headed home (for a long 13 hours of travel time). With the piano in the back, we had to be extra careful, and so... "put, put, put," we went, around the windy mountain roads. "Slow and steady wins the race", or-- at least-- that is what they say. :)

Anyways... Like I mentioned previously, it feels like heaven to be home.

A Look Back: It's Summer Again

5/14/07

I'm glad school is out! I'm not sure that the reality of summer has actually sunk in. Maybe it is that I'm afraid to see my final grades and am in a state of denial. I've been avoiding broncoweb/blackboard, all weekend. It is not like I can do much about my grade, at this point, but I'd rather not know my test scores, if said test scores are disgusting. You know the old saying, "ignorance is bliss?" Yeah... touche' goes out to whomever first spoke such wisdom. Not that its original meaning had anything to do with college finals. Ha, I laugh. Okay, so I probably did fine. *Sigh.* It is just that my motivation level had dropped into the negatives, during the last few weeks of school and it is extremely hard to do anything, let alone study, during such dips of will power. Then again, it is not like I didn't study... I DID, but I feel like I could have done better. Oh well... WOOHOO!!! SCHOOL'S OUT, FOR THE SUMMER!!! I'll be happy now... :).

You're How Old?

5/5/07

People tend to think that I am older than I really am. I suppose it is probably just assumed, because of my collegiate circumstances. At least, hopefully this is so. I would rather not simply look older, especially in the latter years of my life. Being a 40-year-old with an 80-year-old's appearance does not sound very appealing.

The Ups and Downs of Me

3/6/07
Remember how I told you about my mood issues, and how sugar makes me feel diseased, etc.. Well, as of late, the diseased feeling has been extra terrible, and I've been shaky with heart spasms, and such. It has not been very enjoyable, to say the least. Thyroid issues, and blood sugar level problems have a history of occurring in folks from both sides of my family. Because of this information, and the pure fact that my issues were really rubbing on my nerves, I headed to the good old doctor's office. I told him my symptoms and he agreed that it could be the two problems mentioned previously. For testing purposes, I had an EKG and my blood drawn. I'm a wuss when it comes to needles, and almost passed out. I had a good nurse, though, and she only needed to jab me once. THANK GOODNESS! With the test results, we've decided that I am hypoglycemic. This explains a lot. My hard past months, with bipolar mood swings, were probably caused by low blood sugar. I'd go and buy a blood sugar level tester but I'd never use it because of my insane phobia of needles. I can handle other people poking me (if I have to, I guess) but when it comes to the stabbing of myself... such thoughts are NO GOOD. "The horror!" I mean I've tried to do the poke your finger thing. It failed miserably, and I ended up in tears. It sounds ridiculous, and it is ridiculous, but it is true.

*Anyways*

As i was sayin'... I am starting up a "Happy Brookie" food schedule. This schedule requires that I eat something about every two hours. It is kind of annoying, but totally worth it. Snacks that contain a mother-load of protein have become my best friends. It is amazing how much a person's health affects everything else in life.

Early Morning Predicaments: Segment III

Here Cometh the Flood

Falling in and out of a freezing and uncomfortable slumber, Brooke began to dream. She could the see headlights of a car coming up the road. It was stopping in front of her house! In the haze of her subconsciousness, she excitedly watched as a young man walked up to the truck. Jason, one of Brooke's friends (who was leaving for BYU), had come to her rescue!

"Hey!" He said. "So... I kept getting this really random image of you dressed as Princess Leah and calling out, 'Jason, you are my only hope.' I figured that, since I couldn't get your princess Leah-ness out of my head and the roads are kind of slick, I'd better check to see if you made it home okay."

"Jason! Princess Leah, huh? Telepathy really does work!!!" she happily spouted.

"What about Telepathy?"

"Umm, never mind"

"Ok...?" he replied, looking slightly confused. "But, if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing in there?"

"Oh, you know," she sarcastically answered. "A girl can't help but enjoy the luxury of sleeping in a Ford pick-up, once in a while. The Ameritel Inn charges a bank-load for one night in their 'Hitch-hiker's Abode' room, but I'm all about doing the real thing for free. First class dirty towels, old t-shirt coverlets, plastic arm-rest pillows, a glorious windshield view of the night sky.... It's the perfect sleeping arrangement!! NOT!"

She explained the truth of her situation to him and they shared a laugh as he proceeded to open her door. She was free, at last! Stepping down onto the icy pavement, she thanked him. "What a gallant thing for you to do, kind Sir... opening a lady's door and all." She giggled and enthusiastically hugged her liberator.

After their joyous embrace, Jason's nose suddenly began to shine. It beamed brighter and brighter, until his whole body was gone. It was as if, due to a case of spontaneous combustion, he had been reduced to nothing but fire. The next thing she knew, the setting and objects in her mind mutated until the ceiling of the truck blurred into view.

Waking from her dream, Brooke was glad to know that Jason hadn't really burst into flame. All lovely thoughts of him and his rescuing her were smothered, though, by the sad reality of her early morning predicament. Having found tape, in the jockey box, she had decided that sticking a piece of cardboard over the cab light would block most of the glare. This had assisted her in sleeping more comfortably. Apparently, though, her tape job had failed and the cardboard barely dangled above her. Having the light revealed again, disturbed her dream and she was anything but pleased. "So much for sleeping in darkness, not that I was really getting much sleep."

The inside of the car was cold enough, when she was exerting energy, but the chill worsened as she lay still. Wondering if a change in position would do her any good, she sat up. The vertical movement brought an unexpected pressure upon her bladder and she knew that, unless she could find some way to relieve herself in the next minute or two, the future of her dad's truck interior would not look or smell very pretty. She had managed to forget about her full bladder, until now. At this point, though, no manner of mind-control tactics could spare her.

With crossed legs, she looked about for some sort of container that would be suitable for the task that she dearly wished to perform. Boxes would not do; she was not about to deal with soggy cardboard. Plus, thoughts of the stench from an open box full of urine was enough to trigger her gag reflexes. The cranks of her creative brain were turning at high speed. Every object in sight suddenly became a science project. Could she somehow transform a flashlight into a toilet... ish... object. "No." How about a camera case? "Not really." Perhaps, a water bottle would do the job. "Or not," she snapped, wishing-- for the first time in her life-- that she was a boy. "If I could only aim!"

Concluding that her inventive skills lacked, she decided to give prayer another chance. After all, she had done what she could and was now in need of a serious miracle. "Please, Heavenly Father, I need your help!" she whispered. "Surely you love my daddy enough to save his car from an explosion of my bladder. I need to pee, like no other, and I need you to help me get out of this car before it happens! PLEASE!!!!!!!" She closed her little prayer in the name of the Savior and then tried her lot at using faith. Grabbing the handle, she took a deep breath, and pushed against the door.

Even without the use of thee's and thou's, Brooke's prayer was answered and the door flew open as if it were never jammed! Her response: "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!!!! I'm free... I have to pee, but I'm free! Yes!!! Bathroom, here I come!"

It may be hard to believe, but-- with the stinging wind-- the temperature outside of the truck felt lower than that of her previous imprisonment. She would almost prefer to remain huddled on the seat of the truck, but she knew that she needed only to trek to the backyard, through the sliding door and into the house to be warm and one step closer to emptying her gallons.

"I'm almost there" she encouraged herself, as she waddled over the icy ground. As she reached patio, snow began to fall. "Please be open," she pleaded, yanking on the sliding glass door. It flew open as easily as did the door to the truck (after her final prayer, anyways) and she felt a hint of warmth as heat found its way past the blinds. Her hands reached in, to move the blinds out of the way, and felt that a chair was blocking her path. "Are you kidding me?" she murmured. "Honestly!" Crouched on the ground, with every muscle in her body devoting itself to the cause, she wasn't sure if she could spare enough strength to push anything out of the way, without losing control.

Figuring that the chair would need to be moved for her to enter the house, whether she wet herself while moving it or not, she stood up. In a matter of seconds her muscles seemed to give up the fight. It was as if a dam had broken! A flood of pee burst forth with great force and in one full and continuous flow! A warm wetness rushed down her legs, darkening her jeans and forming a yellowish puddle in the snow. She was sure she'd never urinated so much in her life. If she hadn't stopped soon, her back yard might have become one very large frozen pond!

She was much relieved, when her tank had fully emptied and-- looking down at herself-- she easily converted feelings of embarrassment into gratitude. She would have preferred the comforts of her warm bathroom, but decided that it was definitely better to have a puddle of frozen Brooke Pee on the patio as opposed to a mess of nastiness on the carpet of the hallway.

The extra warmth felt nice, at first, but her clothes soon started freezing to her skin. Before any icicles had a chance to form, she stripped off her soaked clothes, pushed the chair out of her way, and streaked upstairs. Desperately, she hoped to remain unseen. In her opinion, running into her father (while sporting nothing but her birthday suit) would have been quite disturbing. "No thanks!" she thought, quickly tip-toeing to her bathroom. "I have had enough excitement for one morning."

After tossing her dirty clothes into the tub, she rinsed them and herself off with soap and water. She then readied herself for bed, peeled out her hardened contacts, and jumped into her gloriously soft bed. "It's over," she sighed with relief.

The clock on her bedside table read 6:04 a.m.. It had been hours since she had said goodbye to her friends and headed home. As she lay there, wrapped in three fluffy comforters, her thoughts replayed all of the events of the night. She smiled as she remembered how God had heard and answered her prayers. She had been very blessed. And what a story she would have to tell, if ever she was to give a talk on the power of prayer!!! Closing her eyes, she could picture her frozen puddle of pee and it made her laugh. "Try and catch me complaining about cold toilet seats, ever again," she whispered to her pillow as she hugged it tight and slipped peacefully into a restful sleep.

The End.

Early Morning Predicaments: Segment II

Failed Attempts at Telepathy

"Well this is quite the situation; now, isn't it? What more am I supposed to do?" Brooke piped, feeling more and more annoyed at herself (for getting locked in the car), her dad (for having a car with useless doors), and everyone/everything in the world (simply because she was not in a good mood).

She was sure that her parents would eventually stir (to go to the bathroom or something of the like), notice that the lights were left on and the door not locked, and decide to check on her. All, but the latter, of these thoughts were correct. As she sat in the lit truck, feeling like a fish in a fish tank, Brooke watched the house as the lights were switched off. Neither her mom nor dad came out to retrieve her and she was saddened as a bit of hope faded. Her parents must have seen her things and figured that, because it was so late, she had forgotten to lock the door and turn out the lights.

Many cars sped past and she tried to signal them. Sadly, though, no amount of flailing her arms or endeavors at flashlight Morse Code brought any of them to a stop. She thought about honking the horn and, as an omniscient narrator, I say that she definitely should have. For some reason (low blood sugar, exhaustion, or just plain old stupidity), she decided against the idea and focused on other things.

She began to pray for help: for the door to miraculously open, for someone to come to the rescue, for faith that things would turn out alright, and for some brilliant idea. Nothing seemed to happen-- even with her continuous attempts at slamming against the door, fitting keys, and channeling someone telepathically.

The scene from Star Wars, where Princess Leah is seen recording the message: "Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are my only hope," popped into her head. Surely she could send out some kind of thought wave. "Aren't all humans supposed to be connected spiritually , somehow? Come on, Heavenly Father, help a woman out. Send the Holy Ghost to inform others that I'm having issues, please." With that, she began to focus. She was bent on reaching possible rescuers with her thoughts. "Mike Lott" she said, trying to connect with her dad, "I know you're awake because I just saw you turn off the porch light. Now this may sound ridiculous, but I'm sitting out in your car and would be ever so grateful, if you could come and save me. Please, come and find me!" She repeated this process about a dozen times with several different people and then waited for results.

For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. Frustration welled up inside her and, all of the sudden, she burst into tears. Every harsh emotion she had been feeling (the stress of an up-and-coming music competition, the emptiness of having her friends leave for school, and etc.) seemed to combine until an emotional bomb formed and exploded. She hadn't had a good cry in ages and her negative energy had found a reason to surface. After a bout of sobs, she luckily found a roll of toilet paper and was able to take care of the after effects of crying .She then resumed her efforts at escape.

Having lost most of her motivation and noticing a dull ache in her shoulder, she decided to give up on body-slamming the stubborn door and turned her focus in another direction.--Sleep. She didn't have access to a clock, but she was sure that quite a bit of time had passed. And besides, she had been partying, non-stop, the past couple of weeks and her young body was yearning for some shut-eye.

Digging through her father's work supplies (piano hammers, tuning kits, and the like), she scrummaged up an old t-shirt and a dirty towel. Covering herself with these, she lay across the seat. Every position she formed was uncomfortable in some way or another, but she didn't care anymore. It was not like she had much of a choice and, seeing as how she was definitely spending the night in her dad's truck, she was determined to get some shut-eye!

Early Morning Predicaments: Segment I

This piece took longer to compose than I thought it would, but (as you can see) the below chunk of writing is rather lengthy (I hope that it isn't too long). At first, this story was to be sent to a friend, through email, but I decided that I'd spice it up by transforming it into an actual story in three parts. Writing about myself in the third person was harder than I originally thought it would be; though, I definitely enjoyed the challenge.

Anyways... Pull up a chair, pop some corn, and prepare yourself for my week's most interesting (if nothing else) adventure.


*clears throat*

Keys to Self-Confinement

Brooke clumsily fumbled through her purse. The air was cold and her hands, searching desperately for her keys, trembled while her body shivered. Her light jacket was barely able to keep the chill out, let alone, the warmth of her body in. Key now in hand, she unlocked her car and jumped in, closing the door behind her. Inserting the key into the ignition, she started the engine and instantly turned up the heat.

The car ride home was one of silence. Her mind was racing-- full of memories of the past and thoughts of the future. After pulling into the driveway, for a moment, she sat there and savored the heat as it rushed out of the vents and brushed against her skin.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the steering wheel,as images from the past few weeks rolled into view. Christmas break had come and gone, for most of her friends, and it was time for them to go back to school. Because of this, she couldn't help feeling a bit depressed. It had been so wonderful to see her old chums and now the time for goodbyes had returned. She hated the thought of not being with them and equally loved the idea of their return. "Then again," she whispered to herself, "it seems like the more I'm with them, the more I become attached, and the harder it is to say goodbye."

At this, she sighed, turned off her car, got out, locked it, and headed into her house. Before she made it up the drive, though, something caught her eye. Turning around, she saw that her dad had left on his truck lights! She laughed, remembering other examples of his forgetfulness/ADHD and then went on into the house to snag a key to his car.

It was about midnight and her parents had already gone to bed. The Christmas tree gave a dim glow, but it was not enough light to assist her in such a quest. Hoping not to disturb her family, she flipped on a few lights, stashed her purse on the counter and began to look for her father's lunchbox (his basic man purse). Due to the fact that he usually carried it with him everywhere and used it to hold all of his things, she figured that it would be a good place to start. It would have been perfect, indeed, had the lunch box been in its usual location.

Instead of a pile of work clothes nestling it against the wall, next to the bathroom. Brooke found only carpet. Seeing the bathroom, though, she realized that it was about time to empty her bladder, but-- because there were more important things to accomplish, first-- she pushed this thought to the back of her mind and continued walking.

Being unsuccessful in spotting her dad's keys out in the open, she decided to check a few drawers and cupboards. Finally, in the kitchen, she came upon a bunch of random solo keys. "I've found the mother load," she sarcastically said as she gathered a handful and headed back out into the cold. "One of these had better work or his lights will just have to stay the way they are." Endeavoring to fit the key into the lock she urged every one of them on, in hope of a match. "Ugg! Come on, little buddy, please work... I have to pee and it's insanely cold out here!"

Finally, just as she was about to give up on the whole charade, the last key of her plethora actually fit into the lock. "I'm in!" she exclaimed. "Now, lets get down to business." Up and in she climbed. After habitually closing the door to her side, she noticed that it was mutilated and momentarily freaked. Reassuring herself, she recalled how her dad had rolled down his window each time he needed to open the door. Doing this made it possible for him to reach the handle from the outside. "No problem," she thought, "I'll turn on the car, fix the lights, and then roll down my window like Dad always does." She then reached into her pocket and grabbed the key that had let her into the truck. After jabbing it into the ignition, she was shocked to find that it wouldn't allow her to start the engine.

"Well, crap... Now what am I supposed to do?" Since it was impossible for her to unroll the window without having the truck running, she was forced to try the other door. It wouldn't let her out, either. The passenger-side door was open enough to keep the dome light lit, but not enough to be of any service. Remembering that she had only unlocked the one door, Brooke quickly clicked the button to unlock the passenger's side door, too. This didn't change a thing.

Pushing and pulling, she used every ounce of her strength to try and move the door enough so that it would either close or break open. She even attempted a few donkey-styled kicks with her feet. Nothing seemed to jar the door more than half and inch. Not even holding the handle and ramming her body against the door did much for her situation. Feeling completely helpless, she pulled out every single key from the pocket of her jacket and tried to squeeze them into the ignition. It was no use and, to her despair, none of them would fit well enough to start the car. As pathetic as it may seem, Brooke had locked herself in her dad's pick-up; she had opened and closed the door to her own self-confinement!

Home Sweet Home

I am finally back from from my summer travels and have decided that there is definitely no place like home! I enjoyed the majority of my trips to California and Washington, but they both had their stressful moments.

As I mentioned, in a previous post, my brother decided to get hitched. Little Davey is now a married man! Can you believe it? I wouldn't be able to, were it not for my presence at the temple and their receptions.

...Sorry, but this post is being cut short and by "cut short" I mean that it is done.

Would you like an explanation? Well, let me just say that time's been a tickin' and I've been a slackin'. Because of the amount of time that has lapsed from when I first started typing, my creative juices are pulling me on to bigger and better (or, at least, more recent) topics.

Still Gettin' Older

My B-day with weak-sauce lungs:
Yesterday was my birthday. "Happy birthday to me!" It was a happy birthday, indeed. You know the years when the celebrations seem to last all week? This is turning out to be one of those years. I had a party at my grandparents' house on Sunday. A lot of my relatives, who live near and around Boise/Meridian, joined us for the festivities. We had cake (well, technically, we had sugar-free cheese cake pudding with gram crackers and strawberries.... mmm), and I attempted to blow out all the candles. You may be wondering why the word attempt made its way into the previous sentence. Blowing out candles seems so simple, right? "Perhaps," you think to yourself, "she had a batch of trick candles to deal with?" Well, not exactly. In all reality, I have never been able to fully complete the said task, properly. I don't have a lot of gusto, apparently, when it comes to blowin' and I always have to take several breaths to get the job done. This is sad, I know. I could probably overcome this deficiency with a bit of practice (EXPAND THAT DIAPHRAGM, WOMAN!!!!) But I don't feel like putting forth the effort. Let's scapegoat this issue and blame the lack of lung capacity (for candle outing) on my asthma, okay? Okay.

Monday:

Monday, felt birthday-ish because I was able to wear a new pair of pants and test out my new rolling backpack. "Goodbye Sir Jansport and Madam Shoulder Bag" [wave of the hand]. No more bad posture! I always thought rolling backpacks were lame, but (with the weight of all of my stuff finally off my shoulders) all bad feelings have flown away. Though the wheels on rough pavement and bricked pathways make quite a racket, I love my new bag and recommend rollers to everyone.

Tuesday:

Tuesday, being my real birthday, was probably one of the best Tuesdays that I've had all semester. I found a strap for my violin case and was able to carry it about, in a more comfortable manner. Briefcase style is a thing of the past, ya know.. ha. Violin lessons were canceled, though, so carrying Betsy (my brother named my violin) around campus was basically pointless. Oh well.

Field trip:

My Biology lab went on a field trip, yesterday (still Tuesday). We had the opportunity to hike around in the desertous foothills of downtown Boise. Three whole hours of bird watching, lizard catching, plant analyzing fun! You should be very jealous. I did obtain a sun burn on my neck and collar bone, though, so the trip wasn't perfect. You'd think that (with all the jazz I stash in my backpack) I'd have sunscreen, somewhere in the depths. I did last semester, for awhile. I suppose a girl can't have a Mary Poppins bag all of the time.

Food, glorious food:

After Lab, mis padres took my brother and me out for lunch. We gorged ourselves (at least I did) full of food, at a Chinese buffet. I ate soo much food that my stomach looked rather stretched out, afterwords. I guess that (because I don't have a lot of meat on my bones) when I fill myself with meat, it's bound to show. Anyways... YUMMY! It was delicious! After this grand feast, Ryan and I hung out at the SUB until our math class. He checked out a laptop and surfed the net/listened to Thai music while I yakked with my cousin, Kahli (who called to give me some birthday lovin'). Yippee for doing anything but math homework at times like these.

Thoughts about the past:

I have recently been contemplating the origin of birthdays and the celebrations that coincide. How long have birthdays been a reason to party? Any ideas? Did Methuselah find time to fiesta, in his 969 years. They obviously kept track of aging. Was a year back then calculated like the modern year? huh...

Kindred Spirits and Bosom Friends

Do you have people, in your life, with whom time and distance do little to affect the relationship that you share? I'm talking about people who click perfectly at the moment of a first meeting, people with whom understanding is mutual, people with whom you can be your crazy self. I DO and I love them dearly. What would a body do without his or her "kindred spirits" and "bosom friends"? (The endearments within quotation marks are lovingly borrowed from a favorite fictional character by the name of Anne Shirley... just in case there was a question.)

One of such friends called me up, yesterday. We've known each other since elementary school and it was nice to catch up. I am not one who likes talking on the phone but it seems like, with certain people, the annoyance totally disappears. Anyways... We spontaneously decided to get party. I called and invited another girl (also a dear friend) and we spent the evening together. It was sooo much fun. We swapped old year books, played trios (me on the piano and mis amigas on their violins), and just visited and laughed-- nonstop.

It isn't often that I have hang out sessions. My life can be extremely busy and friends aren't usually very high on my list of important things to take care of. This shouldn't be the case. I need to be more social. After all, relationships and people are very important! I think, though, that I would rather have alone time (sometimes) rather than put forth the effort to call people up/plan activities. This sounds totally self-centered, but it is true. I like to do my own thing, when I get the chance and not have to worry about what others want and think. Please note: if I don't often hang out with you, it doesn't necessarily mean that I don't love you. I am just a fan of solitude and the productive/wholesome activities that solitude provides.

Even with my social issues (for lack of a better word), I do love people. It is nice to have someone to care about and to know that someone cares about me, too. This may sound a little odd to some but (according to my knowledge and testimony of the teachings and principles of the LDS church) it is my thought that people, in our lives, were close to us in the pre-earth existence. I feel or like to think that our "kindred spirits" are/were just that-- kindred spirits. I'm sure we had close relationships in heaven and that we promised to assist one another during this earthy experience. We knew that it would be difficult, but (with cooperation and love for each other) that we'd be able to come to and accept the gospel/endure to the end.

What are your thoughts on this topic(s)? Anybody?

LOVE GOES OUT TO ALL Y'ALL!... and I'll try and be a better friend/family member, I promise. <3