Welcome to Everyone Else's Life

So, a few weeks ago a good friend who has been going through a hard time found me on campus and proceeded to tell me what was making his life difficult. I am afraid he met me at a rather bad time, and as he was listing his stresses and concerns in a rather distressed manner, I snapped, and in a moment that I should have been sympathetic these were the words that tumbled out of my mouth in reply. "Well, welcome to everyone else's life", and then I turned my complete attention back to squirting ketchup onto the hot dog that I really couldn't afford to buy, but was starving so was doing it anyway. The poor guy could say nothing in reply. It was one of my few really jerkish moments in life. He kind of awkwardly said what he could and then left. How rude of me eh? I was sitting there worried about my own problems, so I let the frustration of someone elses complaining turn me in to a Mr. meanyjerkface. Lame. I gonna have to remember that next time I don't get the reaction I want from someone I am whining to. The non-budgeted hot dog was delicious by the way.

So, About that shiny thing....

Yeah, well. The shiny thing found me. Me, lonely me, standing there in my vertical line mourning the loss of my nice circle. And then, the shiny thing, get this, flew back my direction and smacked me right in the face. Rude huh? I kind of left a big dent in my skull, but I have embraced the dent. That's right. I am happy to be getting married forever to Chesley Eugene Lewis. Here are some lovely pictures.
Awwww. Look at the sound of music shot. Just previously we had been singing about the live hills, and throwing Chesley's brother Tanner over cliffs. It was a good day.

I was being very upset in this picture because he had taken me from my family to "go to a ReAL Salt Lake game" Pfff. Well, the game wasn't until the next day. We showed up to an empty stadium. Smooooth.


This picture is from when we took a trip to Portland to visit his mission. We got to swim in public water fountains, which was basically one of my dreams. So it was one of those Walk to Rememeber kind of moments. Although I didn't get to pull my shirt over my shoulder, and have him put on a sticky butterfly tattoo. Dang. I should have thought of that.

The Things That Beckon...

It is incredible to me how clearly and with much resolve this bowl of jelly bellies pierced the minds of the gnomes in my stomach that control what I crave. When I sat down at this computer 10 minutes ago, the bowl was half full, and contained many vibrant colors and mind boggling flavors. With my will power sitting in a crumpled deflated heap on my lap, I now officially declare that the popcorn ones are the best flavor. The worst part of this story....(beside the fact that there was only ONE popcorn jelly bean) is the fact that.....this bowl of many flavors was not mine...it belongs to my dear sweet room mate, so, in remorse I write this letter.

Dear dear sweet room mate,
I am sorry I ate your jelly beans.
They were so yummy and delicious.
Except for the coffee and black licorice flavors. Yuck.
I hope you will forgive me,
and keepy stocking up on Jelly Bellies
Sincerely,
Me

The Simple Life

I recently had the opportunity to attend a remarkably extraordinary wedding reception. (Yes I know that those words together are kind of redundant, but it was crazy!) The father of the bride is known to make a huge amount of money, and so no expense was spared. I did not know either the bride or the groom, so I had a really interesting perspective of what was going on. Before I delve into the deeper meaning I am trying to get across here let me describe this reception to you.
The first thing I see when I walk into the driveway is a prowler with weddings gifts stacked in it. I see a blue striped photo booth with a cute girl in a little red jacket handing out tickets for the activities. Everything was bright and happy like in the movies you watch as a kid. Right behind the ticket booth was a full fledged fair sized ferris wheel. I found my inner child when I realized how badly I wanted a ride. There were game booths manned by pretty girls wearing jackets that were uniform with the one the girl in the ticket booth adorned. Little kids walked around with intricate balloon hats and vests because they had found the magic balloon lady wandering around making balloon gifts for everyone. There was popcorn, cotton candy, drink booths, icecream and more. The tables where we sat down to eat our huge meal were decorated with huge flower bouquets and hand pulled candy. There was a photo booth where you could go in as many times as you want, and it would spit out the four picture strips. There was a dance floor laid out right next to the swimming pool designed to look like a red rock waterfall. It was crazy. People walked around with expensive clothes, tanned skin, and lots and lots of long bleached blonde hair. (I think I may have been one of two caucasian girls with dark hair there)
And there we were. The Utah Four. Two country boys with their wranglers, boots, and baseball caps, and the girls in bermudah shorts and t-shirts. For the first few seconds I thought about feeling out of place, but then I looked over at Spencer, and saw his beeming countenance, and decided to be happy to be exactly who I am, and have a grand time indeed doing it. And we did. We had an absolute blast, and met a lot of great people. As we were helping clean up afterward one girl mentioned to me feeling really inferior to that atmosphere and those people because she knew she would never have anything close to that caliber of a wedding reception. I thought about it for a minute. Thought about the people I'd watched all night long, and I came to the conclusion that I wanted to be nothing like them. We had met some incredibly Chirst-like people. The families of both the bride and the groom were so fantastic to us. But as I watched the other guests at the reception, I was saddened by how much IN the world they seemed to be. The wealthy have such problems that I would never want to battle. They battle with pride in a way I hope to never understand. They battle the fight for social standing. I simply always want to be happy to be me, and to have people I love around. As I watched the men there, I was so proud to be there with Spencer who is the most humble and good man that I know. It is good to know men like him still exist.
Really, the point is, I want my life to be simple. I don't want bookoo bucks or fancy things. I like my life.

Otter Pops...

...are purdy much the sustenance of summer living. Put your canine teeth into the corner of the plastic and tear off the top. No hanky panky with the scissors. Use your thumb and middle fingers to push the goodess up past the wrapper, bite down a half inch into the plastic, pull back to slide the frozen glob into your mouth, and enjoy as heaven ensues. Is there a friendlier Popsicle? I submit that there is not. Just take a look at those adorable otter faces, and you will immediately want it to be within you. One per partaking never satisfies; the partaker must intake at least three of those otter characterized frozen flavored sugars sticks in order to build enough will power to not eat four or five. They go on the "your turn to buy list" in the apartment that rotates through the roommates, along with toilet paper and dish soap. There are many reasons why life could be dubbed good, but this, this makes life exceptional.