Finals.

Ancestors
Hear my plea
Help me not to fail my finals please
And to not pollute my grades with C's
Help me to survive this week...

Oh goodness. Ohhhhh goodness. Finals are nigh and my motivation to study is nonexistent. Each time I open a textbook, I end up shutting it within five minutes, tears pooling in my eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of concepts and characters and craziness I have to store back into my brain.

I just can't wait to be done with finals. I am ready to to celebrate the end of this semester. I am ready to shed the woes of this past semester and start anew. And although I am quite wary of change, I am ready for spring and summer and for the new adventures that it'll bring.

One of those days.

Sometimes I think too much about my future, my past, my friends, my family and I get uneasy about everything that is happening all around me.

Today is one of those days.

In these times, I like to surround myself with people to keep myself from feeling alone. And I just listen and listen and listen. If I am alone, I like to surround myself with music to keep my mind in check. And I just listen and listen and listen.

And although today is one of those days, I've surrounded myself with good friends and good music and I'm feeling that in the end, everything's going to be just fine.

I hope you have a good day and enjoy the rooster.

Neverland isn't as special.

Dear Friends,

Today I would like to just let my thoughts wander and chat a little about growing up. This month I am turning 25 (which just so happens to also be my golden birthday), an age that I have forever thought of as the turning point from young adult to adult’s adult. Like responsible adult. Get your own phone plan adult. Be independent adult. I no longer need to talk to my parents every week kind of adult. Well, I think you get the idea. And as I am getting closer to this age, day by day I realize that I am by no means ready to be an adult’s adult. And I think that it’s okay… to a point…to still be contingent on your own childlike tendency’s to depend on your parent’s love.

Last month my Grandpa was admitted to the hospital for a handful of different reasons. Now let me tell you a bit about my Grandpa. He is just so special to me. His birthday is just 3 days before mine and out of the 24 (going on 25) years I have lived on this Earth, we have celebrated our birthdays together 23 times. It is a tradition that I hold dear to my heart as we age together, though separate.

This year he turns 81. And as of right now it looks like he is going to make it to yet another birthday. But while he was in the hospital our family experienced an emotional awakening, something that we have not experienced before. The possible loss of a person we all love so sincerely. Now I am sure that most of you have experiences death in your own families, and yes I have too, but this was a little different, this was the first familiarity of death in regards to someone who has truly changed my life. Through many prayers from myself and others and through the expertise of the doctors who worked with him, he is home resting. But none the less, this was close, and it was a very real emotional drain on my heart.

A little while after he was released to go home, I went to go visit my dad at his house about 40 minutes from where I live. As we were sitting on the couch silently watching some t.v. he says to me, “I know that he is only getting older, and that we have been expecting this for a while, but it still is a strange feeling to know that the man who raised me is going to be leaving soon.”

General Conference, 4/2013.

(Watch here -->) gc.lds.org | #ldsconf | mormon.org

"Because Heavenly Father loves His children, He has not left them to walk through this mortal life without direction and guidance" (President Dieter F. Uchtdorf). The Prophet, Thomas S. Monson, provides that direction and guidance.

I would like to personally invite you to come listen to living prophets. I always look forward to the opportunities I have to hear counsel from God's servants and to be spiritually enriched. I know that our prophet today, Thomas Monson, communes with God and reveals His will for us.

I love this Church and I love my Savior Jesus Christ. I know that He lives. I have a testimony of His beloved gospel. It has brought me happiness and peace, it teaches what I know so passionately in my mind and my heart to be truths. These truths will be spoken of today and tomorrow during General Conference. Come listen.

K-Pop.

This topic has been a long time coming.

Korean Pop. I never understood the appeal, then Gangnam Style came out, garnering almost 1.5 billion views on YouTube and I was like, this is so ridiculous, it's good. And I participated in a spoof myself (I come into focus at 3:06).

It didn't last for me, though. I just wanted to know what they were saying so bad, and I wasn't committed enough to look up everything they were saying. They threw English words and phrases in the midst of their Asian that really didn't make sense...or maybe it does, I don't know. All you non-Korean K-pop lovers, do you really know what they're saying? Or are you just diggin' the beat? Their music videos, yes, are very cute with their coy smiles, their adorable winks, the strategic tracing every so often of their flawless faces, the tilting of their dainty heads...

And of course, when I was Hong Kong over the Christmas break, it turned out that my cousin's son was in love with Girls' Generation. And then, my younger sister revealed that she also loved Girls' Generation. There are nine of them. NINE. I mean, I can't even work with more than four people on a class project without the fear of losing my voice, imagine fighting eight other people to literally have your voice heard.

This reminds me of kittens. A room full of the most adorable kittens in the entire world. Also, Duffy, anyone?

And this...talk about trying to get equal face time. I counted nine, then eleven, then ten. I don't know. So many elements to this song too. Goodness, I can't tell what they want me to think.

Guest #4.

This next guest and I met freshman year and we've been friends since. And yes, he posted before his proper introduction, but I really liked what he said on his own blog that I had him repost it here before I could send out an intro.

This is Wes.

I love him so much. He is a great reader and writer and probably will compose the Great American Novel one day. Last semester, we spent practically every day together as we took the same English and Doctrine and Covenants classes. It was the best when we made pretentious grammar jokes or doodled in our religion notebooks.

Although Wes and I don't see each other as often as last semester, I can easily call him up at any time of the day and we will take quick trips to Wendy's and grab chicken nuggets or sit in the Wilk and go over his changed life plans. His laugh is very, very infectious and you really can't help yourself but laugh with him.

Wes has witnessed my awkwardness on many occasions but has always met it with his own awkwardness, jokes and words of wisdom.

We skyped each other while watching The Legend of Korra once.

Wes' a delight and I love him.

Welcome.

Update 3/31/13: Wes' post.

Easter

They say Christ died for us in that garden and suffered for our sins and that the weight of it all squeezed the blood out of him like an olive press does to an olive. And I believe them, even though I wonder how much weight it takes to crush Jesus Christ. They say too that while he was in the garden he felt all the sadness we felt, and that because of that he can judge us perfectly. And I believe them there too. But even if you don't, I think you can still wonder about all the sadness that crushed Jesus Christ, who conquered even death. All the heartaches, the disappointments the siblings he watched die of cancer, how many tons of grain and rice and cotton he harvested until his thumbs bled, how much frostbite and all the hunger the goodbyes the miles walked away from home the cuts scrapes scars the abandonment left crying alone in your closet crawling from Tennessee to Oklahoma on your bare knees smelling the odor of your loved one's ashes of gunshots and shipping off to foreign shores and the smoke on the thirtieth floor stinging your eyes or down in that mine choking your breath and loss loss loss. It's all loss and that weight you feel in your heart that you can hardly bear. Our hearts are fragile. That weight doesn't have to be much. I don't care how you divide it, seven billion times anything is a lot, and that doesn't include all the people way back when. What would the world's sorrow weigh? I wonder sometimes if with all the sorrows trials and tribulations, if he felt all the joys too. And if he did, whether he divided it up so that he had all the trials and then could look forward to all the joys, or else if they were all mixed together like how we have it. And then I wonder if he felt the joys that came from bad things, like getting away with stealing, and if it was on the tribulation side or the joy side. And if the joys were so much that they hurt him too. The earth weighs 59,721,900,000 kg (131,664,251,759.7 lbs). It's such a big number it doesn't even matter that we are on it, the mass is still the same. They estimate 107,602,707,791 people have lived on the earth so far. And let's assume that during their whole life everyone accumulates just one pound of sorrow, then sorrow alone would be almost the weight of the world. And that's not counting all the babies waiting to be born and that's not counting all of the sins, and all the people who carry a lot more sorrow in their hearts. All the sins are just ways of keeping sorrow in your heart anyway. I'm not trying to evangelize here, I'm just saying that's a whole lot of sorrow, and a whole lot of world. But let me tell you, all the sorrow and all the pain and trial and tribulation would be a lot less heavy if we started helping each other out and lifting each other's loads. And if we stopped forgetting what each other was. Choosing sides is important, we all need to do what we think is right. But not if it makes us forget that He suffered just as much for them as he did for us. Even if you don't believe in Him don't forget that. Don't forget that everyone has a mother somewhere. Don't forget that judging someone doesn't make you any better than them, but more importantly that telling someone to stop judging you doesn't make you any better than them. Because we're all heavy, and all our hearts are creeping down our rib cage and they're going to keep creeping until we stop the dichotomies. It just makes the world heavier. It just makes us forget that it is a heavy world around us, that we got to stick together else the world's sure to cave in on itself.

Reposted from anonymousampersand.blogspot.com

Wednesdays.

The fluorescent lights flickered above me as I laid sprawled on the floor. My chest was rising, falling, gasping for air as I thought to myself, My innards are about to rip...I can't go on.

I shut my eyes for a second and I felt my breathing slowly return to normal. An odd rendition of that one "Harlem Shake" song was playing in the background. I was feeling lightheaded and the music began to fade. Was it the end of the song? Or am I losing consciousness?

Suddenly, a voice.

"Alright, if it hurts to go on, go to your happy place."

My happy place? My mind immediately began to trace an image of...of...of the most delicious chocolate cake I have ever seen. I began to taste the gooeyness of the chocolate chip cookies, fresh out the oven. Betty Crocker appeared in my kitchen and handed me a spatula and a bowl of brownie mix. Her eyes twinkled and spoke to me, saying, "Here, eat."

I closed my eyes...the corners of my mouth twitched into a smile. The chocolate was numbing my pain.

"Eden! Did you really just fall asleep?" My eyes flipped open, I lifted my head and looked to the left. My sister, legs propped up on an exercise ball and in a shaky V-position, was staring in disbelief.

"Hold for one more set, ladies!" The voice at the front of the room enveloped the "Harlem Shake."

"3, 2, 1 and alright! You're done!" Sighs of relief filled the room and finally, the Wednesday morning abs class was over. I closed my eyes again.

Betty Crocker reappeared.

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Let's give a round of applause for my first three guest bloggers, Nicolle, Sam and Michelle. Absolutely brilliant. They made this past month incredible with their words. (More guests coming in the near future!)

And now the reason for this blog: my life. I thought school was my biggest obstacle in this past month with the most time-consuming midterm project of my life (honestly...we ended it with an all-nighter that taught me Red Bull causes me to stutter...).

25 Facts you Might Have Already Known about Michelle

Dear Friends,

This is my first experience being a “guest blogger” for someone and I am so stoked for the opportunity. So I thought I would take this time to introduce myself to all of you.

My full name is Michelle Erin Sutterfield. But my family calls me Michy (pronounced Mishy) or Mich Fish. I actually prefer being called Michy because it is what I am called by those who truly love me. I am 24 years old, 25 next month, but I feel like a teenager still with the imagination of a 5 year old. I paint, and draw, and take photos on occasion. And if I am feeling a tad more creative than usual, I make Haikus. I have spent a lot of my adult years trying to figure out where I belong, which is one of the main reasons I am 24 years old and still trying to get a college education. I love to laugh, and I also love to cry. I sometimes wonder if I just feel emotions more than normal people do… like… 100 x more. It can be hard sometimes, and even purely unbelievable, but I wouldn’t trade who I am for anything in the world.

I am the daughter of Juliana and David, though not married anymore, they are great parents. We have had our ups and downs as any family would, but ultimately, they are my everything.

Every once in a while a friend of mine would ask me how I took my parent’s divorce. And to be completely honest, I could not remember most of it. I was so young when it happened (about 4 I think) and do not even remember them being together. But I do remember using my parent’s divorce to get one parent to do something the other would not. I was a very vindictive child. Luckily I grew out of this (I hope) and have moved on to doing better things with my time… like writing Haikus. But I will say that over these 20 something years of having two separate, but equal families, I have learned a few things that I would like to remember when starting one of my own.

Maybe at some point I will share those few bits of insight with you, but to stay on topic… and by topic I mean the topic of ME let me share with you 25 things you might not have known about me:

Guest #3.

This is Michelle.

I love her so much. Michelle was the first person I met this new school year. Her flaming red hair, her deep blue dress and her infectious laugh was what lured me to her and I knew that I wanted to be her friend. Being around her is always the best. She makes you feel funny and clever and just good about yourself.

Michelle has the wonderful gift of making friends. Her personality is one that meshes well with everyone and when you see her, you are drawn to her, you want to know her. She is always up to doing fun things and I see her at every event that I go to. You know it's going to be awesome if Michelle is there.

When I get awkward or say something odd (i.e. knickers) and I start feeling flushed, Michelle's laugh always puts me at ease and I feel better about what just happened.

We went crazy in a photo booth once.

Michelle's wonderful and I love her.

Welcome.

Update 3/22/13: Michelle's post.
Update 4/9/13: Michelle's second post.

Up and over the mountain

I don't know most of you that will be reading this. Well at least I hope you read it. But I do know Eden and I love her and who she is. She brings joy into whatever room she is currently in. I like that in a person. I am happy she invited me to write on anything I desired. I have thought and thought about different experiences that I have lived through and one seems to pop out from my memory that I wish to share...

First some background of me, well there is only one thing you need to know. I hate hiking. I could rant about it for hours. I don't have that much time so I will just say it is horrible and you are constantly scared that you will die from exhaustion. Then you get miles up the trail and you are scared that you won't die. Either way, scoutmasters get you up on the mountains and you are just kicking yourself thinking that you agreed to go.

This death march occurred in the high Uinta Mountains. (Here is a link if you are unfamiliar: High Mountains )
The whole time driving to this location the road we traveled by was flat. This got my hopes up, surely the road was a good indicator. But no, like a bat out of hell, the biggest mountains my young 17-year-old eyes could see popped out of nothing. Jagged jaws of cliff reaching outward 13,528 feet made my little heart drop into my ankles instantly making them swollen with fear. Yes, that description is accurate.

So there I was, walking on a dirt path that blended and crawled up a mountain. I was with friends, my father was there, my pack wasn't that heavy, and yet I was mad. Mad that there was a man that decided to climb these battered punch marks spread across the world and call it fun. So fun that millions caught on and developed large backpacks to carry canteens and powdered food packets up and down these exhausting trails. I was bitter as you can tell. 

The path continued, we were so high that the trees themselves didn't dare to climb with us. I am not sure you readers have been above treeline before but it is high enough that trees cannot tolerate inappropriate environmental conditions (usually cold temperatures or lack of moisture). Why any human would want to be up where plants can't grow is beyond me, but there we climbed. 

It was day 4 of this march and I was sick from food packets and filtered water. I had just woken up to what seemed like 33 minutes of sleeping and 7 hours of trying to sleep when I hear "pack up and lets get moving!" What more do you people want to see! There is nothing up there that would be different from down here. What good is this trip, everyone just wants to go home. I wanted to scream at my leaders but only did so in my head. Sometimes that is the safest place to yell.