Outer Banks NC

I just spent the last 6 days in Corolla North Carolina, otherwise known as "Duck Beach"; on vacation with my good friend Jennifer.
It was healing for me, and one of the best weeks I've had in a long, long time. I'm so grateful to have been able to take some time for myself and relax before my big, upcoming exam.

Happy Graduation Joely Roely Poely!!!

November 21, 1989 my littlest brother, David Joel, blessed our family with his birth. I was 7 years old. Soon after he was brought home from the hospital, I remember my mom rocking him in the rocking chair. I had just come home from school and wanted to check out the newest member of our family. I walked around and layed my head on the backside of the rocking chair and just stared at him. He was so tiny and so cute; with a full head of black hair (unlike all the rest of us bald blondies). Before I knew it, I had tears streaming down my face. My mom, concerned, pulled me around and asked me why I was crying. I didn't know why; I wasn't sad. I was happy! My mom asked me if I was sad b/c I thought having a new brother meant I wouldn't get as much attention. I shrugged. That sounded reasonable...maybe I AM sad! And I ran off to play.

Looking back, I know that in my 7 year old mind, I didn't know how to articulate that I was crying tears of joy. I loved my little brother so much, and somehow I knew that he was a special spirit.

Joel grew to be a funny little kid. He was the only one out of all of us that laughed out loud when he watched cartoons. (The rest of us just stared blankly at the t.v. like zombies apparently) He was/is always laughing and smiling.

When Joel was in elementary school he and his little friend Jordan asked me if I would teach them songs on the piano. I did, but then they both surpassed me in like a month and became musical prodigies. I'm not kidding. No seriously, they did.

(I won't go into Jordan's accomplishments...but he is pretty incredible too...)

Joel has amazed us all by his compositions. He writes beautiful and surprising music on the piano that is both classical and modern in style. He has also picked up the guitar and has a sound similar to Jack Johnson. Did I mention that he also sings? I don't know where this kid came from...

Anyways... I'm really proud of him. He's just a really good kid, with a good heart, and truck loads of talent.

Good job Joel, and congrats on your graduation! I love you.
(Good luck with Juilliard!)






I was a Spartan at Minico, but he chose to go to Burley High and join the rival Bobcats!!! awe well...




Joel and his friend


Our nephew Tysir and me waiting for the graduation


Cutest couple ever! Tysir found a little girl with whom to flirt! I didn't know that babies took interest in each other that early, but they were fascinated with one another, it was so cute.


Random dust storm after the graduation! We don't usually see those here; it was crazy.

I hate flying.

Airports are the second most annoying place on Earth for me to be; second only to traffic court...
The flying part of flying is actually not that bad. I enjoy being high in the air and looking out the window. Before we get too high to see the ground, I like watching the world from a bird's eye view. It's awe-inspiring to see an entire city at once, with all the cars flowing in and out, like nutrients in a blood vessel feeding a living organism. But then, speaking of organisms, I remember I'm sharing like a gallon of air with a thousand people, and I gag as I shift uncomfortably in my chair that a hundred thousand other people have farted in.
I'm being melodramatic.
What I actually hate is security: paying for overweight and extra baggage, having to hold my see-through plastic bags with my "liquids", taking of my shoes...etc. etc.
However, the other day, before my flight to SLC from Atlanta, I modified my bad attitude of security...

With my carry-on in tow, I'm walking around the airport b/c I have a five hour layover,(Yet another reason to hate airports); and I hear a loud voice. I am already walking in the direction of the sound, so I go to check out what the commotion is. My first thought is that some employee is getting a verbal lashing from a higher up, but when I get closer, see the source, it is a fifty something, five foot nothing white dude, screaming at the top of his lungs (not an exaggeration) at a tall 250 pound black airport employee. What the.... I'm thinking "this black dude could do some damage if he didn't want to lose his job".
Come to find out the screamer is a retired marine (that explains that healthy pitch). He's going on about respect, and saying the f-word in ways that is making my heart race. A baby starts crying, and by this point an impressive crowd has formed. It is a freak show. This dude has no shame. None, and I never do find out why he is publicly losing his mind and dignity. Regardless, for a moment, I am genuinely frightened. I am thinking that at any moment this shorty is gonna pull out a 9 and bust a cap. Then I remember, "hey, wait, we're in an airport ...Ha..ha look at this dude...point and laugh..." phew.

After security takes marine man away, I decide to pull out my laptop and make a new workout play list for my ipod. I am totally jamming out in a corner, and momentarily forget how much I hate being here. I look up to check out my surroundings every once and a while, as every savvy traveler should; making eye contact with peeps and exchanging smiles. People are so nice here. I finish my play list, and start listening to Miley Cyrus, b/c I'm totally still 13 years old in my head. I'm loving her "See You Again" song, so I try to turn up the volume. It doesn't get any louder...that's weird... I touch the earphones in my ears, and follow the cord down to my lap top. My stomach drops and my face gets hot as I realize that the cord is not plugged in and my pre-teen pop music is coming straight from my lap top speakers. I too have been disturbing the peace.

pre-vacation vacation

You would think that since I'm on vacation, with all this time on my hands, I would have nonstop blogs posted daily. However, as it turns out, I have nothing interesting going on to blog about.

You wanna know what I've been doing the past few days? NOTHING.

I go to bed around midnight and I wake up ...oh, around 12 hours later. I meander into the living room and check my email and then turn the t.v. on. I flip through every single channel and either settle on the food network and die of boredom, or just shut the t.v. off.

Sometime, I will actually emerge from my cave and go out to run errands. (I am moving this week, and flying to Idaho tomorrow).

I'm not going to complain about having nothing to do though. It has been nice... Truth be told, I actually have accomplished something; I got rid of stuff.

I do this every season; it is so therapeutic. I love taking something like a shirt or a book and thinking... "You know, I haven't used you in a long time... I think I might need you in the future b/c I love you... but I probably won't. I bet somebody could be using you now, so it's time to say 'goodbye'." Then I throw it in a pile. It's the bestest.

FACT: I almost never wish I had kept something once I rid myself of it.

I know people have a hard time letting go of material objects, b/c they think they have sentimental value, but this is what I think.

1. Very few boxed up things should actually be kept:

Holiday decor
old letters/cards/pictures
tools

2. Unless you wear it regularly, then you don't like it anymore...it's probably out of style. (P.S. Don't wait for it to get back in style, that could take decades.)

3. Unless you have it out on display (i.e. books, decorations), then you don't like it anymore.

4. Unless you use it regularly, then it's useless. Toss it.

~Definition of regularly: daily, weekly, monthly, special occasions. Example: you use your cook wear on special occasions...haha, ok, that's just me.

Let's face it, you're keeping crap simply b/c you spent money on it, not b/c you want or need it anymore. Quit being selfish. Give it to charity. Make space.

For you pack rats out there, start small. Sometimes it takes years of coaxing to let go of some things. For instance, I have seriously been toting around old ballerina costumes from high school for 5+ years now! WHY!!?? Who knows. I'm so ashamed... Except that I chucked them yesterday. Phew.


My WORST nightmare! AHHHH!!!


Perfection. The Japanese know what's up.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom

I could write novels on the coolness that is my mom, but tonight, there are two specific things for which I'd like to credit my mom for blessing my life.
The first is the gift of gab. It's kind of a silly thing, but as I'm out in the world, I have recognized what an important thing it is to be able to effectively communicate and articulate yourself to people; to be able to relate and understand others; form meaningful relationships. My mom can chat it up with practically anybody and as a result, her example has lead me to be a person who strives for that as well.
Another one of her greater contributions to my life is the freedom of expression and exploration. No matter what crazy idea I had or interest I pursued my mom was supportive and encouraging. I think a lot of moms today try to plot out their children's lives by micromanaging; such was not the case with me. My mom gave gave me wings to fly, and always a nest for respite from the world. It's comforting to know that even though I'm running around, two thousand miles away from home, possibly worrying her, she is always there to talk to, always there to listen.
With my personality (head strong, and independent...stubborn), I think Heavenly Father knew what he was doing when he assigned my mother charge of me. Nobody else could do the job.
Thanks mom, you're the best.
xo
Jess

I'd also like to thank 3 other women who have been surrogate mothers to me. Lorna Holloway, who is basically my spirit twin, Sherry Johns, who is super young at heart and awesome, and Rise' Bergman who nurtures and worries about me as if I were truly her own child. I could go on for hours about each of you; you women are amazing and I love you.

How do you like your pizza?

Growing up, I was never big on pizza.
I have a childhood memory where my mom's friend asked my brothers and me where we would like to have lunch; McDonald's or pizza? Without missing a beat I enthusiastically replied Mickey D's. (Pizza? Are you kidding me? Pizza doesn't come with a TOY!) To that, she responded, "Huh...you are the first kid I've ever met that would pass up pizza for McDonald's..."?
At that moment, time stood still. I was old enough to pick up on social cues, and sensed a tone that suggested I hadn't picked what she wanted. I stared up at this "friend" of my mom's in silence, wondering how I should respond to that. Being one who aimed to please, I debated changing my mind. Also being an oldest child, keenly aware of my veto power, I ultimately shrugged, and jumped in the car.
Don't worry, my lil bros totally backed me up. We had a deal back then, I got their French fries, and they got my "pop" (sometimes my burger).

To this day, French fries are still my food of choice. If I had no self control, and if poor nutrition had no consequences, I would likely eat French fries 3 times a day.

Despite this love affair with fries, over a year ago, I branched out of my comfort zone, and slowly began including such pizza in my junk food menu.
There is really but one pizza place from which I will eat, and that is Papa Johns. Their pizza is not even "pizza" to me. (It's not disgusting floppy white "crust" with nasty plastic cheese on top with greasy toppings.) It is as if their crust came out of a French bakery, flaky and savory; and like they got fresh-off-the-vine tomatoes and made their sauce to order... It makes my taste buds sing.
I get my pizza topped with their excellent mozzarella cheese, additional fresh tomatoes, banana peppers, and onions. It is such a delicious treat. What's more is it's even better cold in the morning for breakfast. I'd be drooling just now, thinking about it, except I just had some. Indeed, quite good.


Don't be fooled by it's appearance. This is no ordinary pizza.

longest week ever.

Monday: International Relations Final
Tuesday: Economic Botany Presentation
Wednesday: Animal Physiology Final
Thursday: Interview with Pre-Health committee
Friday: Physics Final

(I am willingly subjecting myself to, if not begging for, five more years of this torture.)

For those of you who feel compelled to say, "Well, you only took 13 credits this semester, why are you stressed", save it... You know, somebody actually said that to me yesterday. If I was a violent person in reality, and not just in my imagination, I would have smacked her face.

What do other people know about our lives? Nothing.

My first pet peeve: People who get offended too easily. (Ironic, b/c I sound like I'm offended at this moment right?)

My second pet peeve: Ignorant, judgmental people.

And this is where this blog will end, so I am not being offended nor ignorant and judgmental of those of whom I think are being ignorant and judgmental.