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.

HOW TO:

MAKE A SMOOTHIE

get a blender

fill it with juice (passion fruit mango, preferably)

two scoops of sherbet

two scoops of strawberries

one scoop of peaches

one scoop of ice

blend

pour

sip

smile

cause you just experienced heaven.

SAD CHAIR

You can only be so young, until you start to fade.

JEALOUSY...IS A MENTAL CANCER

^^ this makes me jealous ^^

Let me explain:

They are newly married. I want to be married.

They are newly married and they have a mansion-home. I want to be rich.

She is gorgeous. I want a perfect body. (Actually, I don't. Perfect is boring.)

He is tall, dark, and handsome. I want him.

They are in love. I want to be in love. 

They are kissing. I want to kiss somebody.

And that is why this picture makes me jealous.

FATNESS

I went running today. 

First time since school started. 

It was only a mile, but I came home almost dead. 

And when I breathed in, I whistled. 

It's called asthma. 

And I hate it. 

But hey, now I can eat an extra brownie. 

It's all about the calories. 
And the cute workout clothes. 


WorkoutHere

A LETTER FROM MY HEART

I'm worried about you. You gotta do more with your life girl! I mean, here I am, pumping blood, keeping you alive. You could at least do something! Anything, to get me pumping. Please. But I still

love you. Cause that's what hearts do.

love,

your heart

MY MOON

I've heard we never landed on the moon, and I've also heard we did.
I've heard God is real and I've also heard He's not.
I've heard snails taste good, and I've also heard they'll make you puke.
I've heard sit-ups are bad, but I've also heard they're good.

So which is it?

I've heard the words "I love you." and the words "Go live somewhere else."
I've heard the words "You are beautiful." and the words "Are you really wearing that?"
I've heard the words "You can talk to me anytime." and the words "Let me talk. Quit arguing."

So which is it?

My world is full of confusion. Full of echos and contradiction. Of joy and laughter and sunshine. And I can't help but wonder...

Which is it?

So write your blog posts on Saturday night at 11:47 just so you don't have to do it on Sunday. 

MITT ROMNEY

I just watched the Mitt documentary on YouTube. I mean, talk about taking risks!

I cried at the end. When he lost. He sat there in his house, with his wife and it was over. All that work and stress and anxiety and depression. Determination and faith and hope. Over. 

That's what comes with risk. Uncertainty. You might be doing the wrong thing. It might not be for you. You might have done something wrong. But you're not going to die from it. So you might as well live and learn from it. Take that risk. 

BLUEBERRY POP-TARTS

Are pets family? Because if they are, then I can say I've lost family.

Her name was Goldy. She was a goldfish. She was the first time I experienced death.

I came down to my room and looked over to my mini aquarium. Goldy was floating on the top of the water, slowly moving with the current. Being young and naive, I thought she was just taking a nap. I thought it was funny. Goldy never took naps. I wanted to show my sister. She looked into the tank and gasped then sprinted up the stairs. My dad came downstairs with my sister trailing close behind. I was sensing panic and urgency but I had no idea why.

Goldy wasn't taking a nap. Goldy was dead.

My sister sat on her bed and screamed bloody murder while my dad scooped Goldy out with the green fish net. If you walked into the room and didn't know what was going on, you would've thought her arm just got cut off.
I sat on my bed, opposite of my sister. Silent. Watching my sister cry and my mom try to console her. Was this what death was? Was everybody supposed to scream bloody murder? Why wasn't I? My eyes were watery. My throat felt huge. I wanted to cry. But I didn't. I had to be the tough one.

We put Goldy in a blueberry Pop-Tarts box. My dad got the shovel from the garage and we slowly walked to the backyard. My sister's head was resting on my mom's stomach as she hugged her tightly. I was standing by my dad and watched him dig the hole in the dirt. We put the blueberry Pop-Tarts box in the whole and covered it over.

By then she was sobbing again. We said a prayer. It was Mom's idea. I felt awkward.

Blueberry Pop-Tarts have never tasted very good since then.

INVISIBLE

(push play on "Invisible" on my Grooveshark playlist on the right)

"Invisible"

Crowded hallways are the loneliest places
For outcasts and rebels
Or anyone who just dares to be different
And you've been trying for so long
To find out where your place is
But in their narrow minds
There's no room for anyone who dares to do something different
Oh, but listen for a minute

Trust the one
Who's been where you are wishing all it was
Was sticks and stones
Those words cut deep but they don't mean you're all alone
And you're not invisible
Hear me out,
There's so much more to life than what you're feeling now
Someday you'll look back on all these days
And all this pain is gonna be invisible
Oh, invisible

So your confidence is quiet
To them quiet looks like weakness
But you don't have to fight it
'Cause you're strong enough to win without a war
Every heart has a rhythm
Let yours beat out so loudly
That everyone can hear it
Yeah, I promise you don't need to hide it anymore
Oh, and never be afraid of doing something different
Dare to be something more

Trust the one
Who's been where you are wishing all it was
Was sticks and stones
Yeah, the words cut deep but they don't mean you're all alone
And you're not invisible
Hear me out,
There's so much more of this life than what you're feeling now
And someday you'll look back on all these days
And all this pain is gonna be invisible

These labels that they give you
just 'cause they don't understand
If you look past this moment
You'll see you've got a friend
Waving a flag for who you are
And all you're gonna do
Yeah, so here's to you
And here's to anyone who's ever felt invisible

Yeah, and you're not invisible
Hear me out,
There's so much more to life than what you're feeling now
And someday you'll look back on all these days
And all this pain is gonna be invisible
It'll be invisible

For anyone trying to trust life, someday you'll look to life.

NIKE

I love Nike. Say it ten times fast and it starts to sound weird. Actually give it 30.

I had an experience. I was going shopping. Now I'm not like some of you girls, that when you hear shopping, you picture Nordstrom and high heels. When I hear shopping I think Sports Authority or Dicks. Dicks Sporting Goods. You dirty minds!

Well I was walking into Sports Authority. It had been a while since I'd been and something came over me and I started to cry. I was standing in the front of the store and the tears were welling up and then the dam broke and they ran down my face.

It's just one of those things man. I can't explain it. Like I would die if I had a "Everything is FREE" card to that place. (Which would suck because then I couldn't use it, but you know what I mean...)
It is pure heaven. Pure heaven. PURE. HEAVEN.

This is what I looked like. (I was looking at the muscular man mannequin.) And then the shoes and then the running jackets and then the sweats and then the running shorts and then the spandex and then the waterbottles and then the headbands and then the hoodies and then the leggings and then the elite socks and then the shirts. HEAVEN.

 This is what I looked like after buying everything.

And this is me now. Sitting on my couch day after day eating crap. (Except she looks like a model-I don't look like a model.)

I love Nike.

FEAR IS A HOME RUN

"Never let the fear of striking out, keep you from playing the game."

^^That's what they all say.^^

You want to know what I'm afraid of?
I'm afraid of:

love       failure       success                                                  bugs     thick books     sweaty hands 

Let me elaborate.

  
BUGS: Just to name a few, I hate rollie pollies because they COVER my window well. And I find one every so often. In my carpet. Dead. And when they die, they turn white and it just makes me want to puke. I hate flies, because that buzzing sound gives me the chills and they're so quick on their feet and I've heard they puke every time they land. Maybe that's a myth but I believe it. I hate mosquitos because, duh. And I hate ladybugs because they tickle. And they also puke when they land. But they do look cool. And I like counting their spots. And it doesn't tickle that bad. Okay I take that back. I kinda like lady bugs.

THICK BOOKS: I've never been a huge fan of reading and when I see books the size of King Kong I just get discouraged. I can just picture my mom's book shelf. The top shelf is lined with all of The Work and the Glory novels. Probably about 3,000 pages each. I'll just stick to the movies-I watched the second one tonight.

SWEATY HANDS: You've all touched someone's hand and it's been either soaking-wet sweaty, or that sticky-grime sweaty. Neither are too pleasant. Which is why I'm afraid of sweaty hands. I'm afraid I have them. But I've found a way to prevent it. You can thank me later. Wipe your hand on your clothes and then touch something cold, like your knee (at least mine is always cold) and then let it sit there, face up, without touching anything and then just don't think about it. It works every time. If it doesn't work, that's really okay, too.

LOVE: I'm afraid I'll never find love. I've never kissed a boy in my life. Actually, 2nd grade, but it was on the cheek and I was confident back then. I'm afraid I'll become the next Sherri Dew. Alone. Never married. Amazing! But alone. I'm afraid I'll never have my soulmate. To scratch my back, make me laugh, and hold me tight when nothing is right.

FAILURE: I think everyone is afraid of failure. It's the first thing that comes to everybody's mind when asked what your fears are. Because failure hurts. It's embarrassing. It makes you vulnerable. But yet it's the only thing that makes you stronger.

SUCCESS: I find myself shying away from opportunities where I could potentially succeed. Simply because I'm afraid to. Afraid to succeed. Once you succeed, you get higher and higher up. And someday you are bound to fail. And the higher up you are, the more embarrassing it is when you fail.

But they say,
"Never let the fear of striking out, keep you from playing the game."

Fear keeps us from playing the game, most of the time. But it isn't until we face that fear that we hit home run after home run.

OR WITH A BRICK

                     Or with a brick.

MY RED BRICK HOUSE

The first four years of my life were spent in a little red brick house.
I don't remember much about that house, but I do remember a few things.

I remember standing in front of our little TV, dancing to Shania Twain and 98˚ with my sister.

Just so you can get the mental image, we were both in dress-up. She was "Anastasia-Mulan" and I was just myself. I would establish a pivot foot and then bounce up and down to the beat while spinning in a circle.
Unfortunately I still dance the same way…

Another thing I specifically remember was a dream.

It's weird how some dreams, you don't forget. We were in the mall and in the middle where all the kiosks are, there were about five car washes lined up and cars were just slowly driving through the mall, getting car washes! I remember being so fascinated. It was obviously a dream I'll never forget.
I remember waking up from the car wash dream and seeing a little tiny mouse right in front of my face staring right at me. It scared the !@$% out of me! But I didn't scream. I squeezed my eyes so tight, I'm surprised I can see today. And about 5 seconds later, I opened them and the mouse was gone.
You're probably saying "Cool story bro. Now go make me a sandwich." Well, you know what! These memories are me. With all that I am, I wish I could go back in time and relive them. These were the times I was truly truly happy. Me and my curly locks. Me and my little red brick house.


Since then, my family has driven past that house and it's sad. There are no flowers. There are brown patches in the once-green grass. The blinds that I used to stare out of are shut tightly. There are no little kids on slipping slides. There are no balloons lining the fence for anybody's birthday. There is no life.
Now, I'm not saying I'm the life of the party, but I'm the life of the party. And this little red brick house-which once held the daily party, whether it was a dance party or a tea party-has no life.

I guess I have to bring life somewhere else. I guess I can do that right here. I guess I can. I guess.

STAND OUT

"Just because you can't stand up, doesn't mean you can't stand out."

I've seen very few people make the most of their disability, whatever it might be. But Mike sure did.
I don't have major physical disabilities like Mike had, but I have my own kind of disabilities. Things that hold me back, but shouldn't.

Disabilities like fear of rejection.
But how do I stand out with a fear of rejection?

Maybe standing out doesn't have to do with your disability. Maybe it has everything to do with it. Maybe it's just an inspirational quote and I'll never stand out.
Freak! I don't know.

DIFFERENT

"Try something different." he said.
So I wrote some poems.

Roses are red. 

Daisies are white.

There is more to a person 

than you see at first sight.

~

People are different. And thank goodness they are. 

This world would be boring if we were all all-stars. 

This world would be boring if we all had brown hair. 

This world would be boring if we were all 6’4. 

 This world would be boring if we all laughed the same. 

This world would be boring if weather only meant rain.

                                        

Because all-stars are amazing-they do things we can’t. 

And redheads are gorgeous; I won’t start my rant. 

And there’s something nice about not being tall. 

It’s a shorter distance to the ground when you fall. 

Have you ever heard a laugh, funnier than the joke? 

And you get to the point where your pants might be soaked. 

And sunshine after rain makes lovely rainbows. 

All these things are why this earth glows.

~
So be your own kind of beautiful. That's what this world needs. The least you'd be doing is a very good deed.

HERE'S A LAUGH FOR YOUR DAY...

I LOVE BOYS AND HERE'S WHY

Love is a deep feeling of intense affection.
When I think of love, I typically think of boys. 
Why do boys make me love? Why do I feel an intense feeling of affection?
Well maybe it's because they look like this:

I mean, just look at that scruff and that smile and those beautiful happy eyes.

Or this:

Those arms. That face.

And I could never forget Zac Efron. Words aren't necessary. Just look at him.

But what is it about boys that makes girls marry them and stay with them forever? 

There is more to love than the appearance. 

LOVE:

It's the way they kiss your forehead with tender lips.

It's the way they smile.

It's the way they hold you tight.

It's the way they love you even when you're cranky or tired.

It's the way they laugh.

It's the way they make you laugh.

It's the way they take time just to be with you.

It's the way they respect you.

It's the way they wear baseball caps.

It's the way they work hard.

It's the way they love sports.

It's the way they make you feel beautiful.

It's the way they say 'I love you.' and mean it.

It's taking the dog out even though it's your turn.

It's making dinner.

It's surprising your wife with flowers.

It's being humble.

It's offering your coat.

It's being a gentleman.

It's going on dates.

It's breakfast in bed.

It's kisses for no reason except because he loves you.

It's this:

This just makes me want to get married and have kids and spend the rest of my life with that man who I LOVE.

USA

I'm proud to be an American. 

Go USA!!!

Crayons

We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.  ~Robert Fulghum

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM

Tomorrow is my mom's birthday. I know none of you care, but can I just say, where would I be without my mom.

Now, I'll just tell you straight up, my mom and I fight.
We argue everyday.
She's right even when she's wrong.
I learn from the things she does, because I don't want to be that when I'm a mom. But then again, who doesn't?
I don't know that we will ever have the ideal relationship. Or not even the ideal relationship. Just the relationship I want to have - I don't think we'll ever have it.

But not one person on this earth is all-bad.
My mom isn't all-bad.

My mom is generous.
My mom has a funny laugh. When she gets going she sounds like a hyena.
My mom has pretty eyes. The piercing blue kind.
My mom is creative.
My mom has hobbies.
My mom likes to exercise. When she's on the bandwagon.
My mom irons every piece of clothing we put in the wash.
My mom does laundry every day.
My mom keeps our home clean (a little too clean sometimes...)
My mom cares about others.
My mom likes to shop.
My mom likes lipgloss.
My mom shovels almost everybody's walk in my circle every time it snows.

My mom is...my mom. And I love her for being her.

HaPpY BiRtHdAy MoM! HoPe YoU hAvE a FuN fIlLeD dAy!!!

PROOF I'M A HUMAN

I am a human because I feel pain.

Have you ever hurt yourself and immediately thought to yourself,
"If I can handle this, I can handle a shot."

I do this all the time.
I stub my toe and imagine myself getting a shot in my toe for an ingrown toe nail. Automatically I think, "I can handle that...".

Or I pinch my finger in my closet door and imagine my finger getting pricked.

Or the time I was about to get my ears pierced and I pinched my ears with my fingernails so hard it made an indent.
It turned out I pinched harder than the earring gun...

I think I do this because if the scenerio really does happen, that I have to get a shot, or I have to get stabbed with an IV, or I break my thumb... I'll be prepared because I've already "experienced" that pain.

Well, what's wrong with being unprepared to experience pain? What's wrong with not being able to pull it together, to hold the emotion in? What's wrong with that?

All this does is prove you're human.

I find strength in pain. No one is immune to it. But everyone decides what to do with it.

I choose to use it for proof I'm a human. 

MY NAME IS JENNIFER CLARK

If you knew me, you would know I'm really good at keeping secrets. But some secrets aren't mean to be kept. I've kept so many for so long, sometimes I can't remember if it's a secret or not. So I don't want to know your secrets. If you have something to tell me, it better not be a secret. But don't stop telling me things. Just consider your life an open door and not a secret anymore. With that said, I'm keeping a secret. My name. And that's the only secret I want to keep. I don't want to hold back. I don't want to pretend. My name is Jennifer Clark, but you can call me Jen.