136.

There is so much I could really say right now,
but being a Christian woman, I can't.




Sometimes I think about silly things.
"I really hope that when I start to go gray, they'll have a hair color that actually matches my hair."
"Oh man, I forgot to brush my teeth last night! Now I'm going to have dentures at 46 years of age."
"What would you call the baby of an ostrich and emu? Emrich?"
Sometimes I think about really logical things.
"If I took this as my major, would I feel fulfilled?"
"Would I consider marrying someone who DOESN'T have the priesthood?"
"If I buy a two year subscription but don't even know if I'll have this computer for that long, am I really saving money?"
Then, sometimes I try to think about what my sister thinks about.
She never really talks about what she thinks, just about what she knows.
Does she think about tons of facts all the time?
Does she think about guys?
Does she think, "Oh man, I'm going to get in such big trouble if I don't listen!"
Then sometimes I wonder if she thinks.
She must, right?
But what about?

135.

I lost my temper. I'm not saying it's okay, but I'm not saying it's not okay.
I'm human and I can only be pushed so far.
But I do have to  say that friends lose patience with friends sometimes.
Sometimes friends say snotty things, so I respond back.
Old habits die hard.
I was pretty good with my temper through high school.
I was the 'nice one' who didn't get mad at all.
It was hard, yes, and people took advantage of me.
I lost my self worth.
You see, in Middle School, I stood up for myself to no end. No one messed with me cause I would tell it to you how it was.
In a way, I'm kind of going back to that.
I will defend myself and I will not be pushed around anymore.
I have self confidence and I will not let people get away with saying stuff.
But, just because I defend myself, even if it means losing my temper, it doesn't mean I hate that person.
I've lost patience with Becca and snapped at her maybe twice. We had an 'argument' once. We almost never have time to talk anymore, either, but it's all good. I would love her even if she said I was a fat cow dressed in a red toupee with bad body odor. Mostly because she would only say that as a joke, and even if she meant it, she must have had a terrible day. :P Point is, sometimes friends say snotty things, but they don't love each other any less.

Being a convert is hard work. Living at home with a family that cracks jokes at your religion's expense is hard. It makes me WORK at it. I wouldn't have it any other way. People who have been raised in the church still have to work hard at it, but it's a different kind of work. They have to work hard to wake up for morning scripture study. They have to work at various callings they've had since twelve. They have to work on numerous talks they've been given. They have to work hard to not feel complacency. That's a lot of work that I'm not jealous of. Converts have to work hard to cut off all ties they have created. We have to go back and tell old friends, "You know, I don't know if I can hang out with you anymore because no matter what, you always push me to do what I don't want to do, which is something that I used to love doing" I stop swearing like a sailor and creating bad jokes and people start to judge me saying that this religion is making me someone I'm not. I can't date who I want to anymore, and that kills me the most. I can't get a lip piercing like I always wanted. I can't get a tattoo of a star on my wrist or a music note on my neck like I always wanted. I can't drink with my friends or play truth or dare with them anymore. That was what I was doing with my life and I stopped it. I stopped the ride at the very top of the roller coaster. With every clank of the gears was another 'normal' step in my 'normal' life. It was all very normal for me. But then, after the final clank of the gears, I stopped the ride and backtracked down that roller coaster, gears goring in reverse. I can't say that I've gotten on another roller coaster completely, because from time to time I get back on that roller coaster that I equate to be the roller coaster of my pre-Mormon life. If I had been born Mormon, I would have been on that roller coaster and the ride would have been going so smoothly. But, in my opinion, it is a bigger and harder move to stop that roller coaster. Yelling down to the operator of the ride and saying "Hey, Jesus, can you stop this Mormon ride? I think I want to go over to the roller coaster that Cat just got off of." Cat's ride is broken and not safe. Sometimes I look over at that old ride and say, "Why did I give it up? I miss me." But then I look at the ride I'm on and I say, "I love who I am becoming and I am still as me as I could ever be. I'm still terribly sarcastic, passionate, and wrong about most things. I have the best friend I always wanted, the one who completes every thought, and I have gained more self knowledge, worth and education on this ride than I could ever dream of on that old ride." Yes. I have to do things from scratch around here, especially when I'm living at home, but I couldn't dream of having it any other way.

134.

Rest in Peace, Matt Laughton. October 21, 2009. I passed you on my way home, that is, I pulled over for the ambulance. Someone in front of me didn't pull over for the ambulance. I almost went road rage on his behind for not caring enough and not showing respect for EMS. My mom knew you better than I did. She says you were a sweet boy and you held many good conversations with her when she substitute taught back in the day. I imagine you would have been seeing her again soon to get your license. You were sixteen. I knew your brother, that is, your brother annoyed me. He annoyed me especially when I had gym class. Kickball was a terror if he wasn't on my team. He sure could leave bruises with that kickball. He annoyed me because he was offensive and obtrusive. Robert was the one who graduated at age 20. General classes, kicked out of them every day and skipped those classes to go to gym. But I can't judge him for that. I doubt he knows my name. It took me a few minutes to remember his last name to make the connection between you and Robert. But, when I look at your Myspace profile, I see how much you cared about your brother and looked up to him.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the world we were born into. I'm sorry for people who make mistakes and leave people behind forever changed. I'm sorry that this person thought he was sober enough to drive.

I know that if you were only mildly hurt I would say something more critical. Maybe I'd say something about how someone shouldn't be out on a bike at 8pm when the sun is long gone. Or, where was your helmet? But, lets be realistic, right? I mean, for crying out loud, you were a kid and no one deserves what just happened.

Life is short. Don't be afraid of it.


Matt, Matt's family, Matt's friends and intoxicated driver, I'm praying for you. I'm praying for you all.

133

I have had this blog since half way through my senior year in high school thanks to Senora. She made me get it. I've had this for almost two years then. That's the longest commitment I've ever had. :P Just kidding.

So anyway,

I got a new blog on a new blogsite. Wordpress. It's rather complex of a site, but I like it. It's clean looking and getting easier to manage. Of course, it IS 3am and it's hard for me to read anything on this computer screen, but nonetheless... I have found ONE flaw, and that is that I can't follow anyone's blogs, so I'll be using THIS blog to follow and stalk you, but most likely will be commenting from my WP blog. And if ya'll have blogger, you can still follow and comment on my blog. Just follow it like you would any other blog.

http://eyestosunrise.wordpress.com/

132. Daft

I may be daft, but I have some questions.

I have a picture uploaded, and it shows up on my 'dashboard' but it doesn't show up as an icon. Why?

Why the heck can't I comment on most of your blogs????

131.

"Say you’re sorry, that face of an angel
Comes out just when you need it to
As I paced back and forth all this time
Cause I honestly believed in you
Holding on the days drag on
Stupid girl, I should’ve known
I should’ve known

I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale
I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet
Lead her up the stairwell
This ain’t Hollywood, this is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now it’s too late for you and your white horse
To come around

Maybe I was naïve, got lost in your eyes
And never really had a chance
My mistake, I didn’t know to be in love
You had to fight to have the upper hand
I had so many dreams about you and me
Happy endings, well now I know

I’m not a princess, this ain’t a fairytale
I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet
Lead her up the stairwell
This ain’t Hollywood, this is a small town
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Now it’s too late for you and your white horse
To come around


And there you are on your knees
Begging for forgiveness, begging for me
Just like I always wanted, but I’m so sorry. . .

Cause I’m not your princess, this ain’t a fairytale
I'm gonna find someone someday
Who might actually treat me well
This is a big world, that was a small town
There in my rear-view mirror disappearing now
And it’s too late for you and your white horse
Now it’s too late for you and your white horse
To catch me now

Oh try and catch me now
It’s too late to catch me now"
-White Horse by Taylor Swift

I love this song and many of Taylor's other songs.
She writes them all herself and has since she was ten.
I just really respect her and her talent.
She's the only country/pop singer I have respect for.
Aside from Kanye. :P

Unfortunately, embedding has been disabled,
but here is the link,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFOAHZ9U6c0

130. You know that feeling when:

You know when you step on the scale and expect a huge number, then you glance down and see a smaller number than what you expected? I love that feeling. =]

You know that feeling when you have a piece of lasagna and say, "my that was quite excellent, I think I'll have another piece even though I'm full," and then you decide not to eat that extra piece. I love that feeling.

You know that feeling when you look around the room and only a few items are out of place, and other than that your room is tidy, organized and functional? I love that feeling.

You know that feeling when you tell someone your standards of keeping the Sabbath holy, not swearing, spending nights with your family, not drinking, going to tons of different meetings and classes and people respect that about you? I love that feeling.

You know that feeling when you live such standards as listed and you don't go back on any of it by skipping meetings, wearing tank tops, bikinis, drinking coffee, et cetera? I love that feeling.

This is a feeling you may not know, but I love this feeling nonetheless. When your sister who is 16, has a mental capacity of a 9 year old and a reading level of a 7 year old who is addicted to tv, movies and online games asks to borrow a book for the first time in her life and reads forty pages into it in one night and comprehends what is going on and how the book is different from the movie and even states that the book is, so far, better than the movie. Yeah, I love that feeling. Every time I asked her what was going on in the book she said, "I'm on page 30 and Bella is emailing her mom." When I prompted further, she said, "Yeah, she hasn't emailed her in a long time." An hour later I asked again, "Where ya at?" And she replied, "They're at school and its snowing. It didn't snow in the movie." Comprehension. She is reading Twilight and knows what is happening. She can state the differences between the book and the movie. What a blessing to see her read. I never thought I would see the day when she would willingly hold a book. I'm trying to not be too excited about it around her because she would get weirded out by it and abandon the cause. I am just so proud of her and I love that feeling.

129. Faith

Today is not the best day I have had. Lets just start with the fact that I woke up late and didn't have time to shave. That is a great beginning to a good 'bad day' story, and may as well have been more than you wanted to know.

9:30am - I stroll downstairs determined that I will eat something today since yesterday I forgot to eat until 7pm. Typical scavenging ensues. I see some left over chicken and decide, hey, protein is a great way to start the day! So, I heat it up and remember, I have wheaties! So, I pour myself a bowl of it and top it off with some light vanilla soy milk. So, I'm chowing down and going over my facebook joys when I remember, oh gosh, it's Sunday! I deposit half of the chicken into the garbage and shovel the rest of my wheaties down my throat. I run upstairs and try to find something decent to wear. Hah. That was laughable. All of my old skirts are so worn that they are see through now, and any that aren't see through are not comfortable, too long, too short, black and pink. So, I opt for a black skirt that is too big for me. I throw on some peep-toe black heels and lunge for the door barely remembering to take my phone and wallet out to the truck.

1pm the previous day - I had a conversation with my parents about wanting to take a car to church instead of my huge truck. I had just about a quarter of a tank, so it wasn't a huge deal, but being a future Earth Scientist, I care about the planet, or so I like to think. Therefore, I would rather not drive the gas guzzler everywhere. My parents said that they would be using the car Sunday but I could pester my nana for her car. I opted against it and decided to pollute the planet instead of asking my nana for her car... again.

9: 58am Sunday Morning - I notice that I have hairy legs and have two options. Shave and be late or don't shave and be on time. I hate being late. Guess my pick.

10am Sunday Morning - I turn the key and voila! I have just under an 1/8th of a tank. I know dad used it yesterday, so I call him up wondering if he drove to Kansas or something. Nope, just around town, he says, and he also said that I had an 1/8th of a tank when he took it. Likely story, I think as I start driving. Well, I get to rt. 11 near the town line when I notice my phone lit up. It's a text from my father saying, "take mom's car." Excuse me?! Didn't they say they were going to be using that car? Why yes, they did say that. So I call him up since he gets mighty pissed when I text and drive, and told him that I was already in Rochester and asked him why he didn't share this valuable bit of info earlier. He assumed that I would see the car in the garage on my way out the door. I hate the garage and never use it. I use the front door. Always have. So his assumption? I won't spell it out for you.

10:20am - The pleasant icon in the corner of the dashboard lit up a nice shade of orange to politely inform me that if I don't get gas, I will die. At least, that's how my truck like's to explain it. When the gas light turns on, it isn't a nice little, "you may want to get gas soon, dearie," kind of light, it's a "FEED ME NOW, MORONIC DRIVER," kind of light. My truck and i have a way of getting to know these things. I have always made it home, but may or may not have had to get a red gas can and make a trip to the local gas pump to get fuel for the beast. So, I start scoping out gas stops on my way to church figuring, hey, if I'm going to have to get gas on my way home, I may as well get the cheapest gas out there.

10:30am - I realized that I left my coat at home.

11am-12pm - good talks that really spoke to me. Especially that one from Sister Smith that said that there is no excuse to not be prepared for the Sabbath and we should never break the Sabbath by justifying our purchases or outings. Gulp.

12-1pm - I have just one little Sunbeam to teach, so I couldn't do my little 'Agape Meal' idea since it takes more than two people to get the point across. Oh well, another time. Lauren and I had a marvelous time, though, talking about Jesus and how He is a good example and how SHE, too, can be a good example. Then we feasted on Starbursts. Unfortunately, the building's furnace died and sacrament was a little nippy, but the primary wing was positively freezing. Lauren and I kept the door open hoping for warmer air to circulate into the room and shivered together. Due to this chill factor, we didn't have a third hour and went home.

1:30 - I start home precariously. My gas light is still on. I use hills to my advantage and I may or may not have run a red light. But praying and singing church songs, I made it home with enough gas to not have to break the Sabbath. This is the point of my whole entry today. Physically speaking, and historically speaking, when a gas light turns on, it usually means you have 1 or 2 gallons left in your tank. 1 gallon for me means 12 miles. Church is about 15 miles away from my house. Luck or divine intervention?

Faith.

128. Me

On my way home from work today I began to think about things that I liked.

I like my job.
I like the fact that I'm losing weight.
I like the people I work with.
I like the way my hair looks, even when it's messy, [YAY TMAI! haha]
I like the way my room looks and feels.
I like to wake up early.
And so on and so forth.
Then I just thought to myself, 'you know what? I like me.'
I feel empowered and I feel gratified. No, not everything in my life is going perfectly. I'm not glam, skinny, rich and getting my way. That would be perfection. In fact, nothing in my life is going perfectly, really. I have a decent job that pays decently where I'm lucky if I get any fifteen minute breaks where I have to stand outside in the freezing cold for hours at a time and clean up after people constantly. I have no money, really. I don't have a car. I don't have steady credit. I have debt. I can't figure out what I want to do when I grow up, but something is telling me I need to do something science-y, which is going to be hecka hard for me since in high school I decided that I was never going to do anything concerning science so I barely paid any attention through what science I did take and I didn't take chemistry. My parents get on my nerves too much and I know I'm becoming like my parents. I have a temper because I am over protective of my friends and I'm not sorry to be over protective so I'm not sorry I have a temper concerning that. I'm stubborn and ridiculous. But, I wouldn't have it any other way. I like me.


After working at Lowe's for some time now, I realize what I have been missing in my life: BOYS. And no, not in the "I wanna date all men" kind of way either. I haven't really hung out with a guy friend in a while. Tom and I used to chill sometimes, but it was weird. It wasn't laid back as much. Marco and I would hang out, but just sometimes. I still love those two like crazy, don't get me wrong, but the last guy friends I would hang out with, with no inhibitions, was Stangina and Scuba. [Not their real names, don't fret.] Well, working at Lowe's has made non inhibition hanging out with guy time. Becca will tell you about some of the guys because some of them are just so gosh darn cute and funny, I need to talk about them to SOMEONE. So, I do. But honestly, I could never see myself with any of these guys. And that is what I like. Nothing is expected. But that doesn't stop us from flirting mercilessly. And I like that. Ryan and I get along really well. He is on a fire department in Maine, is gawky, awkward and strange. He throws sodas at me and expects me to catch them. To his surprise, I did. Haha. Devin always makes sure that I don't need a loader and always steps up to help customers load their huge purchases so that I don't have to call someone to page someone on the walkie. He always will talk to me and calls me "hun" or "sweetie." Then there is Kollin. When I first met him, it was after being at work for 7 hours so I was feeling very punchy. He asked me a question and I replied something DRIPPING in sarcasm. It was probably something about my name which is always a conversation starter, oddly enough. So, now we have conversations in sarcasm. It's great. Anthony, aweee, he's so cute. :D he is one of our designated 'loaders' and awee, I wish I could describe him better than this. He is wicked laid back and reserved but always willing to help or crack a joke with me. He never seems to have a negative comment and takes criticism well. He is just a wicked sweetie. Ohhhh, guyyyyys. :D


OhAndIJustSpent50DollarsAtAmericanEagleAndThatMakesMeLoveMyLifeEvenMore.
HOOOOODIEEEEEEEES.
Becca, kill me.

127.

I love working at Lowe's. I just wish I could work more than 29 hours per week.
I'm considering a position at the library, but I'm not sure yet...

126.

After having this blog for over a year, I still cannot find the "new entry" button without confusion. *palmface*

Anyway, in regards to 125, I have some follow up:

I don't want to forget my past, that isn't the point. The point is that it is hard for me to be here, anywhere near here, when people base their opinions on me from my past and expect me to be the past me. If I mention that I used to hang out with so and so, they expect me to still be that person who hung out with so and so who does who knows what now.

Ex. - I stated that I used to be wicked good friends with this one guy on the department. We were super tight; I even asked this kid to prom. Well, said person that I work with was like, "holy cow, I am dating his brother!" and she starts telling me stories about what they all do together: get wasted. So, she starts asking about the relationship I used to have with this kid and I tell her what we used to do together and I emphasized "USED TO DO." Most of it was innocent, but some of it was naht. So, she asked me to hang out with them. I would LOVE to hang out with them and agreed to it. Later on in the week she informed me that it was actually going to be a party. I turned hesitant knowing how this kid could 'party' but still wanted to see him so I was still going to go. The next day I remembered something that this kid once said to me, "Cat, it is my lifelong goal to get you shtfaced, cause you would make one hell of a fcking drunk and I would love to see it." Plans canceled.

I know that if I hang out with old friends, I will forget myself and meld into the 'old cat.' Even when I hang out with my two high school best friends, it's hard. When I hung out with them I was very interested in their, ehm, livelihoods and around the cussing I broke and lapsed. It's so easy for me to relax and be the old me, which I don't know if I like that. Shouldn't I be able to relax and not worry about the old me, or should I relax and be myself in essence? THAT is why I don't like being judged by my past, because when I am judged by my past, and people know my past, then I am more likely to relax and be that past. When I foraged new grounds, no one knew my past and I sure as hell didn't want anyone to know. So when I was at ease there, I was zen. Being my old self there would have shocked people and they would have led me to the Bishop's office with pitchforks at my back, but here, hardly anyone gives a hoot if I say something foul or make allusions to something not chaste. In fact, they would say, "glad to have you back, Cat."

The past is fine if you're the only one who holds the key to that locked box.
So, I guess I'm just going to have to carefully murder everyone who knows about my past, starting with you.

125. Survive

I love and envy how my best friend is doing amazingly in Rexburg on her own and everything. I'm so shy without her and she is just so outgoing and in love with life that people can't help but gravitate towards her. Without her, I am so socially awkward; it's just who I am. I'm just so glad that she is able to adjust better than I was able to. It took me three months to be secure there, and frankly, I did it better when I was on my own- truly on my own- and with good, grounded room-mates. It made me more secure and aware of myself. I miss it there where I had good people and clean surroundings.

However, here, at my old home, it is hard to live without her here. I am surrounded by nothing but my past and expectations. The only thing that I truly own, that cannot be taken from me, burned, or left behind is my past. And it sadly cannot be forgotten by myself, or others.

124. --Random ADD post

Yup. Life is fantastic. I have a job. I make good money there. I'm going to try and find a second job cause, who the heck wants a social life? I missed most of General Conference, sadly enough, I was working and receiving a scholarship. November 13th I get to sign up for an online class. I want to take Spanish 1, because I already know a bunch of Spanish, so it would be a fairly easy 4 credits - especially since I would hopefully have 2 jobs. I miss Bex. I eat celery now. I make soups from scratch and it takes me hours to do. I love cooking. I no longer drink sodas or sugary drinks at all. I try to avoid sugar, but being female makes me crave chocolate about 3 days in a month. [I gave into chocolate today, haha.] I want to slowly become and organic foods eater only. I can't go without meat, that's just silly, but I want to consume organic foods. I know that there are scams that say things are organic, but really cause the Earth more damage than non-organic foods, so I want to be able to grow my own foods someday. That'd be nifty. I'll do it when I have kids so then they can help me and appreciate the Earth more. Of course, with my line of work being Earth Science, my kids are going to ADORE the Earth :D I like Dan Brown books, EXCEPT for the fact that I can almost always predict what is going to happen, like, perfectly. "Digital Fortress" was a good read, but boy, I had that mapped out. Right now I'm reading ... a different one... haha, don't remember the name even though I'm halfway through it. It is not as easy for me to predict, but I had a general hypothesis early on in the book. I went to bed at 2 and woke up at 8, AUTOMATICALLY. It's killing me. I don't want to wake up early yet, I'm still young! Uhm, I think that's all I have to report on.

So... what's new with you?

Just another day in paradise

So, about 25 years ago, my dad was cutting lumber and the chainsaw bucked and hit him in the face. So, on his right side of his face he has a huge scar about 5 inches long from that incident.

Last year after he had some chest pains, we found out that he had a birth defect where one of his arteries don't connect to his aorta, but connects to another artery. Therefore, he wasn't able to have a regular procedure for chest pains, but instead he needed to have a double bypass.

Today my father was down at the fire station for a fundraiser and as he was about to leave he joked with one of the guys saying, "Well, I'll see you guys when I hurt myself with my chainsaw." Or something alone the lines of that. So, dad is out back playing lumberjack when the home phone rings. I never answer that stupid thing, so my sister got it. She seemed confused when she answered; she couldn't hear the caller very well, so she just ran the phone up to mom knowing that it was dad from the ID. Suddenly mom comes running downstairs and says, "Rick's hurt." So, I leap out of my chair, throw on my sneakers and run out the back door. Now, I'm not the athletic type so running is an accomplishment. I got out behind our barn and saw my dad walking out of the woods. He looked like something from a horror movie. He was holding his shirt up to attempt to clot the blood, but his shirt was covered in blood. When I got to him my mother had caught up to me and had called for the ambulance. Dad quickly rerouted me to the garage to get our jump kit which is home to some quick medical supplies such as gauze, sterile water, stethoscope, etc. So, I ran from the barn back down to the house then ran back up to the barn. Yes, I'm quite proud of myself. Then I got to see the damage. His lip was split all the way open along the cleft up to his septum. So, the very center of his top lip was split completely. The ambulance arrived pretty quickly, which was good. They were all panic-y and fretting over dad, but dad just hopped in and treated himself. He used to be an EMT, so he basically just needed the rapid transport. My neighbor is a senior in high school and he paddled down the road when he heard sirens here, and then the chief of the department drove up as well. Whenever we call 911 for an emergency, we get an emergency AND a full driveway. It's great.

What actually happened was that dad was cutting a limb that he wasn't aware that it was under pressure. When he cut through the limb, that potential energy became kinetic energy, snapped back and took him in the face. It was about 3inches in diameter and also hit the side of his face. After 7 hours in the trauma center, 12 stitches to muscle and skin, a CAT scan and some pain killers, we also found out that he fractured some bones in his nasal sinus area. I don't know the skull very well, but it's basically the bone behind the sinuses. He has two black eyes and a very puffed up face. Poor guy.

Domestic confusion?

It seems as if I have become the house-wife and I have to keep lecturing my children how to maintain a home.

"Dad, pick up your coffee crap when you're done!"
"Mom, I need you to do the dishes; I made dinner so you clean."
Then, after I end up doing the dishes, I had to ask her two times to hand-wash the pots and pans.
"Dad, don't throw egg shells into the sink. NO, it's disgusting."
"Mom, I need you to get your laundry out of the bathroom."

What did they do before me?