A pocket full of sunshine

If I had a jar full of sunshine I would carry it around
everywhere.

I would carry around this jar too.

Nutella... yum.

{images via weheartit.com)

Someone Worth Thinking About

In grade school we had to make paper-mache masks of

famous people and do a little presentation on them.

My person has been in my thoughts recently.
She grew up in an entirely different part of the world than I in
Yugoslavia. She was a Catholic nun who lived in poverty in India.
And among the riches of the world, in a glittering hall of velvet, gold,
and crystal, among people dressed in tuxes and elaborate gowns,
she was honored in her simple sari and sandals for simply doing the
best she knew how in the place she found herself.
Mother Teresa, servant of the poor, sick, and dying, received the longest
standing ovation in the history of the Nobel Peace Prize.
She had the best weapon against the evil and heartache of the world:
a deep, caring, trusting heart.
And the biggest riches, far beyond the wealth of nations:
a loving, giving spirit.

"We can do no great things;
only small things with great love."

"If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one. "

"We shall never know all the good that a simple smile can do.
Peace begins with a smile. "

I struggle with trying to understand my importance, she
never questioned it, just continued to change the world.
I wish for things I don't have, she used everything she had
to do what she could do at the moment.

Peace, love, happiness all these things aren't
something you wish for. They are things you have to make;
they are the things you do; they are who you are;
and they are things we help others achieve.

You begin now. You work with what you have.
And you pass it on.

We can all learn a little from Mother Teresa.
She is someone to think about.

Thank You

{image}

It is really great to be happy for the most part, but I love it when people are honest about the heartache in their lives.Tonight I heard a great quote:
"When we are judging another person it leaves us no time to love them."
My experience is teaching me daily to love others for who they are.

I believe strongly that we create our own happiness.
It is much of the reason my blog is labeled "the business of creating."
I want to have the hope that I'm creating my life anew with things
that are beautiful and full of love.
But there are times where it seems the weight of
everything seems so heavy and impossible to work with.
I want to keep it all in and hide it, but it just gets worse that way.

I really don't want what happened to me to define
who I am, but I know in some ways it really has to.
It is constantly there. I feel like I have the words written
in deep, black marker on my forehead: Divorced. I can't ignore it when I met new people because somehow it always comes up. I can't escape it. And the feelings are hard to run away from.

It is so hard to hear women my age talk about how hard
it is to be single and they just need to have the faith to hold
on and wait for the Lord's time to find their eternal companion.
I know that I shouldn't judge, but sometimes I wish that was my
boat. That the only concern on my mind would be whether a man
was him or not.

But for me, I wonder if I will ever be able to be with a
man and not be trying to block out the words that replay
over and over in my head. His words. With his anger and hatred.
I wonder if I'll ever be able to trust a man when he says something
and not wonder what his alternative motive is.
Sometimes all I think about is the anger and the fights and the emptiness of living with a man that I didn't love. And I feel the weight of being a failure in something that is so final and supposedly so beautiful.

And then I feel the guilt. The guilt of thinking I was given an opportunity
to find happiness and I ruined it. That it was merely me. I am the weak one.
And I don't deserve another chance.

To me, my dreams of marriage are similar to having a glass figurine, admirably beautiful and delicate, thrown with fury against a wall and shattered into a million pieces. I am confused how to began picking up the pieces and fitting it back together.

I find myself so full of anger for what has happened that I wonder if I will ever find the strength to forgive and move on. I am furious sometimes. There are instances where I feel the pain deeply; I wonder whether I can let the Atonement heal the gaping holes and leave me able to love another man.

Most times I am so content to just have myself. Just do what I please and not to beg for understanding and forgiveness. And really I am grateful that I have some place to just put my burdens out in the open and not have to dwell on them alone.

I am happy and I am hurting.
My blog is bipolar: welcome.

I love me a Farmer's Market

There is the smallest little farmer's market here in town. I
decided to take my camera down there and see if I could get a few
good shots in. I am a budding photographer remember. It was so much
fun, ended up staying longer than I should have talking with all the vendors.
Mostly fruits and veggies, but some really fun people. I bought me an apron and
raspberry honey.

If I had me a little boy, I would have bought him one of those
adorable little wooden swords. There was a group of little farts
running around waving them over their heads, but I'm a little slow
trying to get my camera settings right and missed them.

I couldn't resist not trying these little beauties and let me tell you
they were beautiful in my mouth as well.

I hope you have an enjoyable Saturday and eat something healthy.
Any photographers out there or amateurs like me, I would love
some tips or advice.

And I want to give a shout out to all my readers- I appreciate
you all so very much. Just sending some love through the e-world.

Look in my Room, I Invite You

It is time for another DIY!!!

How I love apartment living. Definitely something everyone
should try at least once. You get to leave a lot of crap at mom and dad's
and get the humbling experience of shoving lots of items into a small place,
become an expert at make the tiniest holes useful,
dealing with other attendant habits (like smoking in the hall),
mysterious noises and smells,
strange stains on the walls and carpet, trying to find all the last renters
nail holes so you don't have to fill more in when you leave,
and the fact that the smallest of messes will take over the whole room
are all attributes that contribute to the wonderful opportunity of
living in an apartment.

When I was at college my favorite was looking
through the windows of other apartments. I was really trying
hard not to be freaky, but I was just so curious how they decorated,
who was there, and... they did leave their window open (it wasn't my fault.)
But this time I live
on the top floor and my window is high.
So... in the spirit of apartment living I give you my little
hole in the wall (known in other terms as my bedroom.)
It is little but cozy for me.
(Who can find Van Gogh?)

And I want to tell you about this little piece:
(It is hanging to the right in my room picture.)

Easy as pie to make (I don't know why they
say pie is easy to make because it really isn't.)
I had an extra canvas lying around so I cut out different
strips of scrapbook paper and simply Modge Podge them to my
canvas. It was so much fun. I think this idea would be great
with a large canvas and use it for a headboard.
Good luck. If you do it, let me know.

{click on tutorial on the sidebar to look at my other ideas}

I am.

I put a girl in detention today. It was awful.
I hope I never have to do that again. I was really struggling
to not get in a power struggle with her. I failed a bit.
Teaching is a tough thing.
But really rewarding as well.
I hope that I can relax eventually. I get really nervous
my first hour class (the poor guinea pigs) and by the
second have a better grasp of things.

I am: finding my weaknesses and strengths daily.

I think: nutella comes from heaven.

I have: some of the greatest friends and family and
a really sweet Van Gogh doll. (Just mentioned it for you, Tara.)

I know: I am a child of God.

I miss: college life.

I feel: a bit chubby; I just ate half a pizza by myself.

I wish: things made more sense at night.

I hate: public nose-pickers and doing laundry.

I fear: failure and being alone.

I care: far too much what others think of me.

I lose: my cellphone all the time, and keys.

I search: for redheads everywhere I go. I don't know
why, I just like red hair.

I love: new socks, clean bathrooms, and cuddly babies.

I am inspired: by this picture.

{image}
I always: layer my clothing. I don't ever go anywhere with
just one shirt on.

I never: use salt and pepper on my food.

I write: because I love meeting new people and telling
my stories.

I win: at the card game Speed.

I listen: to Josh Groban. I had a dream last night where we kissed.
It was pretty sweet.

I never: drink enough water.

I usually can be found: with all the paper, pencils, and other
various art supplies.

I'm scared: of losing my teeth.

I don't always: think I do things right.

I dance: when I am doing the dishes.

I need: a hug often.

Glee and Nature: Stay Well Rounded

I thought I'd share some nature (and awesome Glee quotes)
with you because I know that you aren't going to get out tonight with
GLEE starting!!!

{This is some of my photography. I know that it isn't
genius but if you use it please make sure you give credit.
I am a photographer in process.}

Enjoy your evening!

Sue: I realize my cultural ascendance
only serves to illuminate your own banality.
But, face it, I'm legend. It's happened.

Kurt: I'm so depressed I've worn the same outfit twice this week.

Sue: Nobody quits the Cheerios. You either die or I kick you off.

Brittany: Kissing my armpits is a really big turn-on for me.

Sue: On assembly days, I arrange for the rest of the
school to be fumigated, so the gym is the only place with clean air.

Sue: I will no longer be carrying around photo ID.
Know why? People should know who I am.

Sue: I just lost my train of thought because you have so much
margarine in your hair.

Rachel: My personality, though exciting and full of personality,
isn't exactly low-maintenance.

I don't know why I like Glee so much. Maybe I just think
life would be cool if everyday was a musical. And Sue is funny.

When an old friend dies

Personally, I really hate change especially when everything

seems okay to begin with. I like keeping my old things because
they are familiar and comfortable to me. I ain't a picky woman.
Long as it works, I'll use it.

For example, Dolores.
My car. Not the most attractive beast on the road, but she and I
were one, full of memories and loyalty.

Now, I think in America there is an image issue, boiling down to
you are what you drive. Look at your car, and there you are.
Dolores was my car. She was cheap to keep around. Fun to look at.
Had her own personality (she would hum at the intersections.)
Hated the speed limits, mostly because her speedometer never worked.
And would sing only if she felt like it, or if you hit the dash just right.

What I really want out of transportation is feeling
rather thanan image.

Dolores got me through college.
She was there when I left ma and pa and met the new roommates.
(It was winter and we didn't scrape off the ice, just hung our heads out
the window to the grocery store.)
She was okay being loaded down with snowboarding gear and anxious
young people, and did her best up the mountain passes. She went on many
late night drives to Jack in the Box and Mickey D's. She got dirty in the
summer when we were all too busy with harvest to worry about cleaning
her. She got wet with soaking bodies coming out of the canal and
loved going fast down empty dirt roads at home. She snuck around at
night when all her passengers went on revenge trips with toilet paper.
She had more than people put in her: dogs, cats, a few calves, and once we
lost a turtle for a day. She knew how to look stylish while cruising.

She had an attitude, but she always got me home safe.
And that to me is transportation in the highest form.

R.I.P. Dolores
August 2010
You will be missed.

The "new" car doesn't have a name yet.
Any suggestions?
(We really can't bond unless I know her name.)

The Mr. Van Gogh Interlude

I have a HUGE crush on my Van Gogh doll.
(And because I am an art teacher, I can have Van Gogh dolls.)

{You know Van Gogh right? The tormented artist who painted all

the beautiful swirly landscapes. My favorite is "Starry Night."
He was always financial broke. And sadly

only sold one of his 800 paintings during his lifetime. He committed suicide in his
30s. Pretty much he is a legend-- very mysterious and a genius for his time,

not appreciated until after his death. I love his paintings. And he

happens to be my favorite artist. And the fact that another of my favorite

artist, Josh Groban, sang about him makes my toes wiggle.

A Van Gogh painting to look at and a Josh Groban song to listen to,

well there is nothing better than that. It is my cozy time.}

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

My original Van Gogh doll faced a terrible death by the

roommate's dog shortly after moving in. Belle, the dog, attacked his face and left

a gaping hole. I was heartbroken. But a new one arrived the other day,

and my broken heart fills somewhat renewed.

Look at him! Cute right?
I mean he has a little paintbrush in his hand!

And the best part, the part that gets me really excited, is his ear

comes detached!

There are several stories about Mr. Van Gogh's ear. One that

it was injured after a fight with one of his good friend and fellow

painter, Gauguin. There is the one were he cut it off and took it to

a prostitute and practically bled to death until discover by the police the

next day. But the one I like and prefer to believe is that Van Gogh

fell in love with a woman who would not return his affection. In

some fit of craziness, he cut off his ear and set it to her. I don't know

why, but I like to think in his lunatic mind it made sense to give

her a piece of himself as a sign of true devotion.

So, my Van Gogh doll sits waiting for me to find someone to give

his ear to, only symbolizing my true devotion of course.
But he looks so cute while he does it I just had to share.

(Maybe all artists are a tad loony.)

There is your art history lesson for the day. Feeling educated?

My Best Friends

{Anna, me, Tara}

I really do have some great friends and I think no matter what

they would be there at my side. We became friends our senior

year of high school on all the many trips to "town" that we had to

do because of leadership positions. We planned prom and did homecoming.

We got stressed together, cried together, and found a way to get through

it. I love these girls. They are comfortable. Old friends are that way.

They don't seem to go away, and they've truly been through stuff with you.

As we get older, we don't get to see each other as often as we

would like. They go to a different school than I do. Anna is

dietetics and Tara is some kind of really smart medical field.

But I love seeing them. I visit them and they come visit me.

They give me hugs and tell me stories to make me laugh.

And we cry through the hard times and they remind me that we are

women and thus we can handle it.

Tara is very loud (being slightly deaf) and tells things how they are.

She swears and I reprimand. It's our thing.

I love her zest for life, her willingness to never give up, and I'm jealous

how she never takes any crap from anyone.

Tara is the only one in our group that is married and I think

secretly Anna and I both envy her. She is like me in that she was

raised with hardwork ethic on the farm. She knows about cows and

she offers the comical relief when the discussion gets too heated.

Anna is hilarious. You met her and you just love her. She is

very goal orientated and you never want to complain around her

because the "helpful" lectures start. Example, "I am so fat." "Kendra, it is all

about portion control. You just need to watch you calorie intake.... dadada."

Around the boy department though, Anna is clueless.

We have a running joke that I have to tell her when a

boy is flirting with her. Anna and I have certain topics that are taboo

to speak of, such as politics and our high school counselor.

We don't agree all the time but we won't trade each other for the world.

These girls are my best friends.

We understand each other and, despite Anna's objections, we understand

the true importance of a Ben and Jerry's hangover on a girl's night in.

(Her dietetic's instinct wavered when I told her that they were already

portion controlled.)

I don't care what you say; half-baked is the best flavor!

If I don't make sense, just let me vent

I am afraid I don't stand up for myself.
I am afraid I am so dependent on the opinions of others and being part of a group that I compromise my thoughts and what I want to be included. It is so much easier to be part of a "we," an "us," a couple. Its an exciting thrill at first that always seems to ebb leaving me feeling lacking and lost. I want it. I want to be wanted so badly. I want to be loved and cherished, cared for and respected. I want someone to take my pain away and make me forget about him. Someone to make me feel hope for the future and excited to get old with. But at the same time, am I so desperate for that that I forget to wait patiently? That I force the good times to come and forget to wait to His timetable? When something seems good, I jump right in take a little swim and then decide whether I like the water. I figure what the heck, at least I'll know. And it never works out for me. By that time I realize that I am too scared to tell others that I don't like the water. I'm a softy, worried that if I don't find a way to make it work I'll never have anything that will work. At 22 can I still not be sure who I am and what I want? I envy people who tell it how it is without any pretenses. They have opinions and aren't afraid to share them. Confidence. And I feel really stupid because I don't think that way, going naively through life thinking that someday
something good will drop in my lap. Going with the flow until I find myself so deep in the mud that, though I'm desperate to get out, I don't because I'm so afraid that I'll sink if I do. It is better to have someone that no one, right?
I don't know. I want to be a strong-willed woman, independent, self-sufficient, and whole. I don't want someone to fill in my missing pieces. I don't want someone who will tell me
what I am missing or need to do to feel less missing. I am sick of that. I am sick of quick little advice that is suppose to put a band aid on my hurts. Or any other comments meant to cover up the mistakes and the insecurities so that I can be a bright, shiny new toy. It isn't right. I just want to figure out who I am suppose to be and live that way with no compromises, no "I'm sorry," and with the knowledge that I've chosen that way and its all good.

Mellow

The internet has been out again so I wasn't able to update da blog.

But that is okay; I really don't have much to report. I'm really mellow

this week. I really miss having alone time. Its been crazy busy.

It is peaceful to be alone occasionally. To just relax, wear baggy clothes,

and not worry about anything.

My university supervisor came this: I passed.

This teacher thing: I think I got it.

And about the most exciting thing is that I went grocery shopping today.

I don't know why, but I really enjoy grocery shopping alone.

I noticed that I always go in the same direction through the store.

Go through the fruits and veggies first. Head down to the meat and cheeses.

Then over to diary to pick up the yogurt and milk. And last bread.

It just has to be this way. A simple rountine.

And sometimes its comforting knowing that it is.

Sunday is a good day

I had a date last night and woke up this morning still wiggling

my toes about how great it was. He showed up on my doorstep with

flowers. It was so adorably cute.

He made me dinner and then we went for a walk.

It was very well planned and simple, complete with hot cocoa to enjoy

the sunset with.

I think first dates should be that way: simple.

And he's got me smiling today.

My heart is full of hope. I feel blessed to have new friends.

Sunday is just a really great day.
I feel good about where I am and the growth I've experienced through

my trials. Adversity teaches us things that we might not have learned

otherwise. And it is our reaction to adversity, not the adversity itself, that

determines how our life story will be created. And thankfully we are never

alone in our greif and pain.

And today I choose to move on. Today, I am just happy.

Whiteboard

Again, no photoshop so I couldn't do a detailed tutorial, but honestly

this totally cute whiteboard didn't need it. It is so darn easy and I

believe an essential for every college student. My roommate and I write notes

back and forth to each other. And I love me a handwritten note.

Here are the directions:

1) Purchase yourself a frame. I bought a square one from Porter's Craft

for about $8. Make sure you have glass in it.

2) Using Modge Podge, I just cut out some scrapbook paper I liked and

glued it on. In the corner, for the flowers, I just did the same thing I did

in this tutorial and glued them on.

(Tip: these flowers are also adorable to glue on headbands.)

3) I put a piece of scrapbook paper on the back and closed up the frame.

4) And now the fun part: write away on the glass with dry-erase markers.

I freakin love our whiteboard. It adds a lot to our apartment.

Don't Call Boys: Mom's Golden Rule

Let me tell you about dating.

(Well at least about dating after you haven't been dating for awhile because, you know,

you've been married.)

It's awkward.

I feel like I'm lying to the guy. But honestly, when do you tell

someone that you messed up your life. And who honestly wants

to be dating a girl who drags on and on about her heart breaking.

But I am dating now, and I have to remind myself of something

that I believe in but struggle with.

I believe that the man must be the one asking you on the

date and essentially be the one pursuing the woman.

(the old-fashion type of relationship)

When I was in sixth grade I called Ryan E. (definitely someone I had a

crush on) because we were planning to surprise our teacher with a party.

Although the phone call started as strictly business,

I wasn't going to let an opportunity to talk to the oh so popular Ryan E.

go. Nope, I took full advantage. I kept that poor boy on the phone as

long as I could.

However, when mom found out I got the "do-not-call-boys

lecture" (it was short but affective) and for the most part that has worked really well.

I've forgotten that lesson.
I set up the sweet swaps. I call when I want someone to go with me somewhere.

I text when I want them to know I'm thinking of them.

And I definitely think of some of the most creative schemes to get in the

same room as the man I'm semi-stalking. I am aggressive and I think it

is wrong! I make it too easy on men. And to be perfectly honest, I think my

whole generation does.

I'm not suggesting that we become sticks in the mud. No,

flirt away, make your interests known discreetly. Just don't be the

first to make the move.

I think men have become lazy. They can rely

on us to pick up the slack and tell them when they should be

getting together with us again. We don't even give them a chance to lead out.

Don't we want a man who is going to have the guts to chase after us?

And its sad when we have church leaders giving talks about the

definition of a date verses "hanging out."

No, we shouldn't want to "hang out."

No, we don't want to have intelligent conversations be through texting.

We want to be dated and courted. It doesn't even have to be fancy.

Do you realize that by enabling these men through the dating

experience you are going to be dealing with that through marriage as well?

(And then you get the title of the nagging wife.)

Let the men have a little ambition and put forth a little effort.

I like a man who plans the date beforehand, opens the car door, and

calls soon afterwards to say how great I am and that he wants to do it

again. I want to make a comeback of MEN and chivalry and the go-get-em attitude.

This time, you won't find me calling boys.

{image}

Though I might change my mind if I had a cool phone like this.

Roommate's 21st

My life is lacking right now because I have no photoshop. It went

with the death of my computer. Thus, all these pictures have no edits.
I must admit that it hurts a little not to at least enhance the contrast.

Despite that-

Behold, the Roommate's 21st Birthday:

Breakfast in bed.

(At the Hilton no less where they give you 6, yes SIX, feather pillows

to sleep with, or cuddle, or throw, or just hug out of sheer love.)

Sadly, I must admit this is the first time I've ever had breakfast in

bed. I think its about time that someone spoils me and I'm passionate

about that. It was the Birthday Girl's desire and because it was her

birthday, breakfast in bed for the house. Yes.

Olympic Park in Salt Lake City home of the 2002 Olympics.

Highlights: large zip lines, some fast tube thingy, being somewhere where

lots of famous people once were, and the watching the next Olympians practicing.

Oh, and we got to sit in the bobsled.

(Truthfully, the only sport I watch during the Olympics is ice skating and not

even much of that. It doesn't seem right to me to watch others have fun.)

And the best part of the whole trip: The Roof.

As in the roof of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building.

As in the best food I've ever eaten in my life.

As in I wish I was bigger the first time in my life in order to take more in.

And when it was all done I wanted to start over

Divine. Delicious. And so very expensive.

I documented the experience because let me tell you it was worth

documenting. I always thought it was a bit rude to post pictures of

food up that no one could actually eat, but let me tell you, I want to

remember this meal forever.

(Tried flan. I was really excited because they talk about it all the time

on food network. Food network makes me want to eat good, good food.

And the roof is good, good food. But not the flan. You can save room for the

mint chocolate cake, which is heavenly. Truly.)(Aren't chocolate covered strawberries just romantic?)
I was a very spoiled girl and it wasn't even my birthday.

But Roommate and I bonded and I think she kind of likes me.

I did wish her Happy Birthday!