NEVER LOOK BACK

"When life has moved on as it should and a lot of other wonderfully good things have happened since then, it is not right to go back and open some ancient wound that the Son of God Himself died to heal.

Look ahead and remember that faith is always pointed toward the future." •Jeffery R. Holland

IF YOU REALLY KNEW ME

If you really knew me you would know...


I've never been kissed. Only in my dreams does this fantasy happen.

I want to be a graphic designer. 

Country music is my jam.

I have expensive taste with an unfortunate budget.

I have a story I will never tell.

My life motto's tend to be "Keep it real." or "Embrace it."

Spraining my ankle was possibly the worst thing that's happened to me. Because of it I gained weight and lost motivation.

I can't stand indecisive people. I mean, I understand some decisions are hard to make, but others not so much and it drives me crazy when people can't decide! For instance, my little sister. She is the WORST at deciding. We go get smoothies and by the time the rest of our smoothies are made, she is still going back and forth between Passion Paradise and Caribbean Cooler! It's not the end of the world! Just choose one! So she chooses Caribbean Cooler and tells the cashier and then she's like, "Actually, I want the Passion Paradise." OH MY GOSH!!!!! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!!!!!

Basketball is a big part of my life.

I love basketball, but it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Actually cotton mouth would be more accurate. Being on the High School basketball team was easily the hardest thing I've ever done, physically. I've literally never felt I was going to die until I experienced sprinting like we did in practice. Sports induced asthma didn't help at all. I really understand the saying now, "When you want to succeed as bad as you want to breathe, then you'll be successful." I've never wanted to breathe so hard in my life. Ever.

You would also know that I'm jealous and angry. I shouldn't be. But I am. This is just real talk. And this is why:

I started playing Jr. Jazz when I was in second grade. My cousins gave us their old basketball standard and I remember the day my dad pulled up in our circle with it laying in the back of his truck. I shot on that thing almost every day. I can still hear the sound the backboard made when I would bank it against the hard plastic.
My old neighbor who played basketball back in the day would always come out and correct my form. I didn't need him to correct my form I thought! If it goes in the basket, I don't have a problem. But I'd try out his tips anyway and apparently my form never changed because he would come out daily. Sometimes I'd hear his garage open and I knew he was coming over so I would just book it inside my house. I feel kinda bad now...he was only trying to help. I eventually convinced my parents to put in a court in our backyard so I could practice without the whole neighborhood staring at me from their windows. We did and it was a dream come true.

And now, as I look back, I wish I would've appreciated the attention and interest he gave me because a lot of people didn't, and it kinda hurts. My parents for one. This is why I'm jealous and angry. My little sister took after my love of basketball. She is in seventh grade and is going to Dixie this summer. She is on the advanced Bantam teams. She does spring fling and goes to all the camps in the summer. I look outside and see my dad rebounding for her and always reminding her to go out and do her free-throws. He even takes her to the church gym when it's too cold or too hot. My dad never took me to the church gym.
I see all this excitement and enthusiasm toward my little sister and making her a star and I just sit back and watch and wish they'd given the same to me. I should've been the one playing, but now I'm just watching from the bleachers. They're so uncomfortable and my butt gets numb and I HATE it! I don't want to watch. I want to play.
Ever since I was a little girl I dreamed of playing on the BYU women's basketball team. No, it wasn't a dream. It was a goal. But with the lack of interest my parents gave to my "career", it didn't end up that way. I was left on my own to go out and practice (you can only rebound for yourself for so long). I was left on my own to find out when the camps were held and I usually had no clue. My friends would be doing camps and clubs I didn't even knew existed, and neither did my parents because they had no intentions of helping me become a star. No intentions at all.

(hopefully you didn't read all that...once i started, i had to finish...it just felt good to write it out)

I REMEMBER...

i remember the wooden gate drilled into the wall in front of the stairs. i remember the thunderous sound the latch made when i was trying to sneak to the pantry in the middle of the night for a fruit snack.
i remember when i was a tom boy. i wished i was a boy so i could wear a tie to church.
i remember the first time i saw High School Musical on disney channel at Ashlee's house, and i didn't think zac efron was hot. my how things have changed.
i remember choreographing a dance to Stand by Rascal Flatts. it was inspiring.
i remember the cricket in our bath tub. i screamed and was temporarily paralyzed with one leg in the air.
i remember asking for play dough ice cream every birthday.
i remember either playing cash register or drawing with expo markers every time i came to my friend's house.
i remember when she told me everything.
i remember building a fort in the creek.
i remember the gift he gave me on my birthday: popcorn and squirt-2 liters
i remember her. her beautiful thick dark hair. her amazing laugh. her captivating personality.
i remember that girl in jr. high with which i had 7/8 classes together. i freaking loved her.
i remember...
i remember...
i remember...
i remember... no, i really forget.

I CALL IT COURAGE

I feel like if you have a ukulele, it is your obligation to make a video of yourself playing while singing along-no matter how good you are... so I did...

(and you don't need to feel bad for me...I am well aware I cannot sing and I cannot play the ukulele...but here is my best effort...)

YOU and I by Ingrid Michaelson

Thank you, thank you very much...

JOURNAL ENTRIES...

*brace yourself your the sloppiest handwriting you'll ever see*

sounds "cuite"...probably not...

I'll have you know, I memorized that part. (don't know what the random picture of the stuff I sewed is there for...)

 

I loved Thane. Like a lot. You don't even know.

gross. talk to you later?

who freaking cares?!

They've gotten better over the years...I promise. So good, that I can't show them. You know what I'm saying?

HEALTHY

Healthy health falls in night. 

At least for me it does...

The house is quiet. My stomach grumbles. I picture my pantry. But then I remember the earnest effort I made that day: oatmeal and a banana for breakfast, Greek yogurt and granola, turkey sandwich and cheese stick for lunch, chicken and broccoli and peaches for dinner....so so healthy...

Nah!! Who cares?! I want a brownie!

(I've actually only done this like twice in my life, but I've done it so...)

CREATIVE JUICE

I've never been to Starbucks. And I want to. Not for the coffee, though. That doesn't interest me. But for the environment. It seems a little bit romantic, sitting there in a coffee shop. I'd pull out my journal. Lean back. Breathe in. Take a sip. (of hot chocolate...)And Bam!

The creative juices would start flowing. Maybe that's what I need.

Is this where all of you get your creative juice. Starbucks? K. Cause I'm going. I'm parched.

Actually, maybe I'd order a smoothie, just to be safe.