Future Insane Asylum Attendee, right here.

Staring into the great abyss of nothingness. I most often find myself doing this at work. There are days when customers don't permit me to enter into my dream-like state; being the holidays, I'm in this despair quite regularly. But again, there are those days where I can visually fly away into the corners of my mind. What do I think about, you may ask? Frankly, this is the conundrum of the century. As I look over the bridge of my nose, I dose off. My vision blurs and in this moment, I think of absolutely nothing. Such a feat is normally incomprehensible for a person of my gender. Any one can attempt to get my attention, but to no avail. It is almost an awkward  silence until a fellow associate rudely interrupts my bliss with a customer anxiously awaiting my acute abilities to extract and place contacts from one phone to the next. How rude. Clearly my non-existent thought process is more important than your ongoing communication with the "friends" you have whose names are only identified by a series of numbers. Who's to say they're real anyway? 

So I reluctantly exhume numbers once lost and yet again, allow myself to go to that distant place of peace and freedom. Although, maybe isn't either of these. Maybe it's more of an escape from the tedium and stress; maybe it's a stifling of problems like dust under a rug. I don't know what it is; but this much I do know, it is out of necessity. If I didn't have my moments of drool-worthy stares, I would most likely be admitted to an insane asylum. 

Isn't that ironic? 

8 Ball Confessions and Folding Paper Fortunes

Wouldn't it be nice if all of life's most difficult decisions could be simply made with an 8 Ball or a folding paper fortune? Life would be so much easier.

I think of all the times I was on an awkward date and the guy says something along the lines of, "this was so much fun, lets do this again." or "can I kiss you?" It's in these moments I wish I could just say, "Can you hold that thought for a second?" At which point I would pull out my 8 ball, ask it, and proceed to shake it. Most of the answers swim to, "Not likely," or "My sources say no." The answer would leave the boy so dumb-struck, I would have a chance to escape.

Another thing we need to bring back is the game of M.A.S.H. This was a harmless game--or so some thought--that we played as kids. It would determine your entire future based on the number you chose and the handful of people listed on the column for the opposite sex. In a meager 10 min, you would know what type of establishment you would live in, to whom you would marry, how many kids you would have, what your career would be, and what type of car you would own. Ten. Minutes. No hesitations. No preconceived notions. Nothing. Just pen and paper.

...Apparently you can play it online. Is that what the kids are doing these days?


At any rate, I love the idea of leaving all of my responsibilities behind me and in the "hands" of a fortune telling device. Because let's be honest, being a kid is so much easier.

The Change was in Me

Sweat beat down my face. Oh, how I desperately wanted to understand what they were saying but even more importantly, I wanted them to understand what I felt.

She sat back skeptically. "So what are you saying?" She asks thoughtfully. In my broken Spanish, I replied with, "You and I can be with our families forever." Hot tears welled my eyes. That was my purpose. That was why I was sweating in the humidity of Texas. With every ounce of brain power I had, I began to testify. Testify of the love I felt from my Savior, the love I had for my family, the love I had for a perfect stranger.

A hush came over the room. Fellow missionaries waited for her response. She knew we were speaking of truth. 

So, she humbly entered the waters of baptism. She was changing her life for the better, becoming what God intended her to become. I smiled and thought, "This is the best feeling in my life. I love seeing others come unto Him, morphing into something that God can work with."


Little did I know, it was in moments these, and countless others, He changed ME; made me something better. Just as a stone rolling in a river bed becomes smooth over time, the message molded me into something more patient, understanding, and faithful. He took my heart and made it malleable; soft once again.

And for that, I am forever indebted.

I'm Desirable, Said No One Ever...except me.

This is a very serious topic that I have been wanting to post about. I am a desirable woman. Why? Allow me to explain. There is a common misconception that the following are not desirable but I beg to differ. Disclaimer: readers must not violate the "non-judgmental" policy.

1. Excessive amounts of drool that lather my face and pillow after a well-rested night's sleep.
2. My culinary mastermind....of breakfast foods and nothing else. I hate cooking.
3. Deep thoughts as to why my nose gets in the way.
4. The acute ability to place screen protectors on phones
5. I shop at the D.I
6. My amazonic height (also the making up of words.)
7. The dancing capability of a 90-year-old.
8. Dubbed pedophile.
9. Disney/Pixar lover
10. Lioness hair every morning.

Granted, this is just a short list of 10 attributes. Be that as it may. However! With time comes age and with age comes beauty...and diapers.

Thank you, and goodnight.

I Spilled Twice

Today was one of those days. I was on my way to work when I realized I forgot the papers that my boss specifically asked me not to lose.

I guess you could say I woke up on the wrong side of the bed but let's be honest; which side is technically the right side? Is it actually referring to the right side of the bed or the "correct" side of the bed? And what is correct?--a common dilemma in our day and age.

So on my way out the door, I grabbed a bowl of cereal. It's called Strawberries Awake--you know, the cheap brand of Special K. (Side note: I should have just bit the bullet and bought the name brand. It's a fitting title for me, Special, for obvious reasons, and K for Kelly...which it wont be that for much longer.)

At any rate, I got in my car with my milk-drown cereal (for extra special people) and set it on the passenger's seat. As soon as I turned the corner, milk poured everywhere. I had nothing to clean it up. I figured it was just going to have to wait until I got home tonight.

Fast-forwarding to lunch: For whatever reason, it's freezing in Utah. Here we are, in June. and it's below 40 degrees outside. Bitter, foul, and freezing. So what does a "special k" girl like me do? I buy some hot herbal tea at the friendly 7/11. Again, I turn the corner, after placing my tea in the empty bowl beside, thinking it would barricade it, it spills in the exact same spot as my foul dairy friend had done earlier. 'That's it.' I thought. 'I am done for.'

Not only did I spill once, I spilled twice. In the same spot. And I was so bitter, I didn't muster the energy to clean it up.
So here I sit, feeling extra special, tired, and full of tea--just not off of the car seat or floor. I'm not that desperate.

The Clock Ticks

The clock ticks.
No one around.
Hunger returns.
Smiles remain.
Tiredness gone.
Thoughts envelope.
Chest pounds.
Eyes weary.
Fingers type.
Nothing matters.
Fear comes.
Fear leaves.
Hurt heals.
Love hurts.
Warm embrace.
But no one's around.
The clock ticks.

Joy.

Love Defined

Love isn't something that should grow stale or cold; but it often does. It is something that is acquired solely through effort. It truly is an ability. Why? Because even in my "puppy love" I find times when I don't feel as close; don't feel as accepting; as confident. This is when open communication is a necessary part in this game we so cruelly name life. So what do we do to keep these channels open? We do the one thing we were designed to do as human beings: recognize WHOM is behind it all.                                    

So who is that? That would be God. He, being onerous, is also intimate. That is why these so called "coincidences" don't exist in my vocabulary. That is why I believe love exists. Not merely because it's a "nice thing" or something "convenient." It is what we were born and bread to do. To fulfill our purpose and become as creatures of He whom designed us to be more than we will ever understand or give ourselves credit for.


That being said, what is love? Something that endears us to another being? Something that can be tossed in the wind? No. It is our divine capacity to see others through God's eyes; to witness a person in their potential "god-like" form while choosing to overlook weaknesses and shortcomings. It is to recognize that even the most vile of people can be spared through that same sacrifice that spares each of us daily. For that is how He looks at all of us; with such compassion that only He can understand.


THAT, my friends, is love. And THAT is what we all have the capacity to obtain.