I'm Thankful for Pajamas

And red bell peppers, early mornings, and professors like Michael DeGruccio who teach me how to think. I’m thankful for Julia’s bubblyness and Lisa’s laugh. For words like riveting and concise, compelling and precision. I’m thankful for grandma and grandpa, grandka and grandpapi. For toothpaste and old pictures, mechanical pencils and scarves. I’m thankful for songs. For hymns. And a voice to sing them with. For vacuums, dove soap, and clean apartments. I’m thankful for Herculean efforts up that hill on Saturday mornings. For inspiring teachers and authors of history books that make me boiling mad. I’m oh so thankful for color. For curling irons, google docs, and made up kitchen concoctions that turn out so delicious. I’m thankful for Lizzy’s phone calls and formal voice messages when I miss them, for the freedom to make choices, and change. I’m thankful to be tired when I have such a comfy bed to sleep in, for the times Lexi makes pizza, and for raspberry sherbet ice cream. And pajamas. I’m thankful for those too.

Plans

I’m obsessed with plans. I plan everything. Before I do it, I have to plan it. Plans give me this false sense of security; because hey, it’s all planned out! This is how it will happen. And then my non-obsession with the execution part kicks in, and well. I have to make another plan. The first plan didn’t happen the way I planned.

But I’ve got a new plan! My plan is to start sticking to my plans.

Meanwhile, Provo is rockin her fall colors, Julia is making our apartment smell delicious, my old organ teacher passed me in the library and smiled her big smile at me today, my back doesn’t hurt anymore, David Archuleta still knows how to sing, and I hear there will be some pretty awesome pumpkin carving going on tonight.

And I didn’t even plan any of it.

When in Doubt

I know we all do it, so don’t try denying it. When you wake up on a Saturday morning, the first thought that enters that newly-awake mind of yours goes something like “Hey, do I want to feel invigorated and empowered and successful and strong and refreshed and AWESOME? Or would I rather feel like a sluggish slob.”

Sounds familiar, huh. I'm here to help you decide.

When in doubt, just go running. :)

Beauty in the Form of Sound

Last night I went to a Faculty Violin Recital. So posh. And also free. Now, I went to a piano recital a few days ago which was excellent. Some profesh pianist played, and he was extremely good. But I’m a little ashamed to say that I got pretty bored after twenty minutes. It was just all the same, and it got tiresome. I concluded that I just haven’t learned to appreciate good music (which is probably true.) However, last night was a different story. I literally sat completely entranced from the first sound of a Violin Sonata of Beethoven’s to the end. It was an hour and a half. An hour and a half of... mm… You know how people say “words can’t express?” Especially in sappy movies? You know how that’s so cliché? Well, this time they really can’t, okay? When the song would end, I could not keep down a grin. It just came. And then the next song started and the grin would disappear because grinning uses up energy. And well, all energy was directed at listening to and watching them make music. That sounds exaggerated. But I kid you not. I haven’t been so intensely captivated in a long time. Maybe the last time was seeing avatar in the theater. That was actually pretty captivating. But it was also different. No, not the same. This was better.

Well anyway. I just wanted to express that the violin recital last night was more than a worthwhile experience. It was absolutely, and stunningly wonderful. They say beauty comes in many forms. This was *ehem* a hecka lot a beauty in the form of sound.

And I am grateful for my ears.

Kale

First of all, I love grocery shopping. Second of all, Lisa and I went today. As I often do, I bought some kale. I know people (well, college kids) think that’s weird, but sautéed with some onions? Delicious. Or curried with rice? Or even just steamed with some plain yogurt on top - it’s yummy.

Cashiers don’t usually know what it is, so they mess around trying to find that little label. Sometimes when they’re taking a long time I just tell them. “Uh. It’s kale.” But today when the cashier lady got to my bag of green stuff she asked, “So... do you have pets?” And then much softer, "Or do you eat it?" I wish so bad I told her I had a herd of rabbits and that I decided to give them dessert tonight. You know, they’ve just been such good little rabbits lately. :)

Anyway. I'm hungry. I think I'll go eat some... some... pet food.

Stormy

Provo is experiencing a mini thunderstorm today. I like it a lot. First even-remotely-cloudy day since her highness arrived. That's me.

Anyway. I'm home "doing homework" and decide to take a picture of this glorious rain. I took a few actually. So I pull the blinds up and I'm pointing my camera at different angles right smack on the window - I'm all into this see. I was trying to do cool close-ups, I don't know. So then I put my camera down and some guy is standing there not ten feet away and looking at me. He's wondering why I'm taking pictures of him. Oh, hello!

But hey. I got a picture.

A Status Report

I haven’t been feeling all that fantastic (that word was amazingly hard to spell. Fantastastatic?) today. In other words, I think I’m getting sick. But don’t panic! I’m all arrayed in comfortable clothes, and I have a mug of delish tomato soup, Kleenexes, and a blanket to accompany me and my textbooks. Recipe for wellness if you ask me. I’m reading about the value and uses of primary sources. I’m also having a hard time getting excited about it. I mean, writing about not getting excited about it is much more exciting. Wouldn’t you agree? Anyway. I intend to snap out of this whole feeling sick thing.

Okay. Snapping. :)

The was-going-to-be Guest Post

As a consequence of her much nagging to post something new on this el blog, I proposed that Tessa post something for me. She said,

"Give me a topic."

"Your wonderful sister."

"Well, I would if I had one."

"A topic?"

"No, a wonderful sister."

I didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. I'll cry later. And she laughs! Still is. Do you think that's funny? I don't think that's funny.

Okay. It was funny. Kind of. Not really.

Lingo

You know those quotes that just stick around forever? A typical quoting opportunity:

Stasia: “I can’t find my keys!”

Lexi: “That’s weird isn’t it.”

And then there’s a pause and some smiles. Everyone in earshot assumes their best Australian accent. All together now.

“My earliest memory of Australia... is the funny thing is I can’t actually remember it. That’s weird isn’t it.”

And then the key-looking can continue.

It becomes part of the lingo I guess.

Maria Zadori

I just wanted to say that if Mr. Mozart lived and died only so that Maria Zadori could sing Laudaute Dominum from ‘Versparae soleness de confessore’ with the Budapest Philharmonic Orchestra, then his life would still have been completely worthwhile. Is worthwhile the right word? Anyway, thank goodness he did live, did write it, and thank goodness she lived, and did sing it. Because it’s beautiful. If beauty had a definition, this would be it. You gotta listen to it. Everyone should – classical guru or no (and I’m a no, so there’s proof.) Mind you nobody can sing it like Maria. In fact, I'm not sure this piece of Mozart’s was actually complete until she came along.

Hail Maria Zadori.

Carrots

“All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times; but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, till they take root in our personal experience." -Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Something like what Goethe was saying – this definitely is not an original thought. But why not add to the “thousands of times” it’s been thought about.

People don’t get addicted to reading the scriptures. When was the last time you heard someone say to you, “I just can’t stop myself from going to the temple?” Does a bishop ever help people control a compulsive desire to pray too much? I know that’s ridiculous, but hear me out. To illustrate, let’s say… carrots. You decide to start eating lots of carrots. Maybe you’re a rabbit – none of my business. But after weeks of eating lots of carrots everyday would you find it hard to stop? No! You might miss eating carrots, but you wouldn’t find yourself having to exercise a lot of self-control to keep yourself from the fridge. It’s the same with good habits. Why is that?

In the simplest terms – the very simplest terms – it seems to me that good things make you free. They make you free to choose more good and to stop doing good if you wanted. Not only does it keep you free to make choices, doing the good strengthens your desire to keep doing the good. The bad on the other hand, keeps you in bondage - as we like to put it. The deeper you find yourself in destructive habits the less free you become. It’s just harder to stop.

The Gospel is all about freedom – freedom to choose good from evil. But when we choose the “evil,” we lose our freedom to choose the good. When we choose the Gospel, not only have we chosen the good, we’re free to keep choosing the good. In other words, we’re free.

Isn’t that COOL?!

Keep eating your carrots.

“And under this head ye are made free, and there is no other head whereby ye can be made free. There is no other name given whereby salvation cometh; therefore I would that ye should take upon you the name of Christ, all you that have entered into the covenant with God that ye should be obedient unto the end of your lives.” Mosiah 5:8

"He hath given unto you that ye might know good from evil, and he hath given unto you that ye might choose life or death; and ye can do good and be restored unto that which is good, or have that which is good restored unto you; or ye can do evil, and have that which is evil restored unto you." Helaman 14:31

Bowls and Babblements

Guess what I learned today. Babblement is a word. Did you know that? Babblement. Which means ‘Precious Babblings’ is actually technically and positively grammatically incorrect. Boo!

Meanwhile I’ve been neglecting el Blog. But that’s because I haven’t written anything lately I care to share. Except for this one. I care to share this one. Last night I had some of this really… well you read it.

So the first bowl of this extremely rich coconut cream/black rice/mango blissful deliciousness that I ate a couple minutes ago was so delicious. Now how was the second bite of the second bowl. Ehhh. It was ‘Wow-it’s-not-very-good-anymore-hurry-and-eat-it-fast-because-it's-the-sickeningest-stuff-I-ever-had-but-hurry-before-you're-tempted-to-waste-it-and-can't-do-that-because-there-are-starving-wide-eyed-kids-in ethopia-who-would-kill-for-a-bowl-of-this-ehh-this-sickening-bowl-of--hurry-gross-okay-last bite-there-done-phew.’

You can have too much of a good thing. But really. The first bowl was delicious. :)

And that is my babblement.

Lizzy

So, I just want to write about my Lizzy.

A few days ago I found a staple-bound book entitled How to Be a Little Girl. Since she is quite the little girl and knows exactly how being a little girl is to be done, Lizzy decided to write a book on the subject. Isn't that cute? (Actually, though, I'm a little afraid of its contents. Today she bluntly stated to me that her favorite thing to do is burp.)

Since her next-older sister prefers reading and other “boring stuff” over Barbies and writing how-to books, Lizzy finds creative things to do on her own. Like building houses for ants out of popsicle sticks and making parachutes for her Barbies. (Unfortunately, the ants never abode in her house of sticks, despite the tempting crumbs leading to the door. The Barbies did enjoy some thrilling skydiving however. Just… without a working parachute.) She also finds time to fulfill her duty as the self-appointed “light-turner-offer police.” In case you didn’t know, the light-turner-offer police turn off lights when careless room-users leave it on when they shouldn’t. She’s a busy one, that girl.

What else. She has a contagious laugh, she likes to give hardy hugs as often as possible, and she calls people “dude.” Oh, and she talks a lot. A lot.

So, Peter knows this. The other night he had one of those small bags of chips… fritos or something. Anyway, you have to understand, junk food is kind of a treat for a growing boy like Peter. Not only that, but he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to do a little bragging and bribing to his little sister who probably wouldn’t have cared much about chips if he hadn’t gotten it into her little head that she did. So after lots of keep-away and the like, Peter announced the final verdict. He would share if she didn’t talk for 24 hours. Undaunted, Lizzy stopped talking.

I think it might have been ten minutes. Ten minutes of intense concentration, painful silence, and I think a tinge of humiliation for submitting to her brother’s rule before she came to herself and decided she didn’t want chips anyway.

I think Peter thought she deserved some kudos for at least trying, so she got some chips after all.

20th Anniversary of Life

Real quick.

Yesterday was such a beautiful one. Birthdays are so great because so many people tell you ‘happy birthday!’ and it just doesn’t get old. If it weren’t for cousins and cheese balls though it wouldn’t have been quite as good. And oh. It was.

So I wake up for work, get all ready to go, open the door to the kitchen and woah! On the counter right in front of me a gigantic tub of cheese balls with balloons and a cutely bowed-up present on top. Good morning to you too!

(p.s. Cheese balls are disgusting, so good, addicting, and tradition.)

Fast forwarding through work and dance and classes and reading textbooks in the library to the end of the day…

Lisa says we should forget homework and go to Zupas for dinner and then watch a movie. I say let’s! And let the movie be Batman Begins. So that’s what we did. We each three snuggled on the couch (not necessarily together haha) eating our delicious sandwich and salad to-go, and Christian Bale was out-of-this-world dazzling as usual.

I also got unlimited texting from Jameson, a really cool chocolate cookbook from Lisa (chocolate roulade, lebkuchen, and chocolate cherry cake coming soon to Apt #4 - please come), a pretty necklace from Aunt Teresa, snickers with a tiny toothbrush because “eating sweets is always okay as long as you brush your teeth after,” and even a ‘happy birthday’ pencil from the BYU Testing Center found in the depths of our couch. They’re creative those testing people. Let’s not forget lots of facebook well wishing. And of the best a singing voicemail from the family. I’m not embarrassed to say (okay I’m a little embarrassed to say) I listened to that thing… mmm… lots of times. I like it when that bass of Papi’s comes in. I don’t know why he sits at work and hides his bass under a bushel. He could go on tour. Actually the real reason I keep listening to it is because I forget which channel the big fat lady is on.

Channel 80 by the way. I uh, double checked.

It's All In the State of Mind

The Man Who Thinks He Can

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don’t.
If you’d like to win, but think you can’t,
It’s almost a cinch you won’t.
If you think you’ll lose, you’re lost,
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow’s will;
It’s all in the state of mind.

If you think you’re outclassed, you are;
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.
Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster man;
But soon or late the man who wins
Is the one who thinks he can.

--Walter D. Wintle

A Potent Contagion

So I met an exceptional person recently. But get this. He’s exceptional …and young. Why so exceptional? Oh, just because he's good. As I’m sure you have, I’ve met many an angelic grandma or grandpa, but not often do you run into a young someone just as good. (Now don’t underestimate the adjective.)

I’ve wondered what makes me so sure that a person’s good when they’re good. For one thing, they pretty much always have great people skills, which are all about lifting everyone else up. For instance, back to this guy. He compliments, he encourages, and he makes you feel like a million bucks. There’s this absence of pride, and lots of decency. Maybe it sounds cheesy, but there really is something about a person’s countenance too. You can read it! And you get related vibes when you're around them. Some people give off vibes of plain ‘ol goodness.

The cool thing is that it is so contagious.

After being near him 25 minutes I’m ready to devote my life to making other people feel the way he makes other people feel. And why couldn’t/shouldn’t/wouldn’t I? I have a mouth, arms, legs... and I'm set. Not to imply that it doesn’t take considerable effort, because the influence a good person has on others stems just from their being so thoroughly good, which is harder to be than I’d wish it. But those kind of people make me feel like doing good is way too simple and way to influential to not do. So what do you say we go hop on the bandwagon and do some good in the world.

Also? They are extremely attractive. So attractive in fact, that I would take a truly good guy over Jimmer Fredette any day. *Woah now. She must be serious.* Haha : )

good

Wholesome, Right, Virtuous, Commendable, Kind, Benevolent, Honorable, Pleasant, True, Loyal, Pure, Innocent, Favorable, Agreeable, Saintly, Angelic, Respectable, Righteous, Pleasing, Genuine

Saturday is a Special Day

First of all, today is Saturday. Second of all, I’ve only published two blogs so far because it’s scary sticking stuff up here. Too much pressure I tell you. Yes, there are a total of two people following this. Yes, they are two very-not-scary people. Yes, it’s not like… well. Still!

I wish every blog was top notch, but not today (or ever for that matter.) I just have to tell you all about my very uneventful day which was very uneventful. Then I’ll be able to study all about protein synthesis, genetics, and cell division ‘till I can’t take it anymore and I crawl in bed.

Can I just say? Thank goodness for Sundays.

Alright here we go. I woke up at 7:25, got out of bed at 7:33 and me and my shuffle were off down the road swinging that ponytail by 7:39. The run was so-so, same ‘ol, and good.

When I got home I made my bed, took a shower, and ate oatmeal for breakfast. Sat on the couch and studied Biology. Biology. Biology. Biology. Cleaned our kitchen and made some cranberry muffins. Biology. Biology. Then I made curried kale and rice. Too much curry, but delicious. Watched BYU vs TCU Basketball game. 107 to 77. Go cougars! Oh and I decided on Jimmer Fredette. What, don’t you think we’d make a cute couple? Biology.

And then! I got my internet to work. That’s big news and one of the reasons this blog just has to get an update. Because it can.

Then I decided to write a blog before I do more Biology.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Some Saturdays just go like that.

For the Sake of Sporadic Drops

I think the feeling you get every once in a while that makes you want so bad to write is simply an itch to create something. Yes. My not being able to think up something to build my creation out of (a good story for instance) slows any creative juices to a pathetic flow of sporadic drops. But anyway, the point is creating something. I’m starting to think that’s what I’m trying to get at each time I crave “babbling” onto a Microsoft Word Document.

Isn’t it true that there is something satisfying in creating? For example. Yesterday I spent almost an hour cleaning our apartment. I washed and put away the dishes, swept, threw pointless-to-keep-around papers in the almost full garbage, vacuumed our crumb-littered living room carpet, folded blankets, rearranged the bookshelf, heaved an extra TV into the corner of the room, wished I had a place for the third one (the dumpster out back?), hung a few coats in the closet, threw a few high-heeled hooker boots under those, then fluffed the yellow polka dot pillows. There.

This is where I stop and enjoy the transformation. Especially with the five cheerful sunflowers on the kitchen table (putting my once beautiful and wonderfully sweet smelling but now wilted, week-old valentine flower to shame), the kitchen was a pleasant sight.

Our living room too, was at least better. The whole apartment was, not to sound sappy – peaceful.

You see, I felt as I stood there just… uh, basking? in the cleanness of the dumpy little space I pay too much for every month, that I had created something. So yes, there is something satisfying in creating. Babbling, bytheway, is creating. You take this blank page (or messy apartment) and make it into a cool page (clean apartment.) Which is why I have my laptop on my lap (hey what’ya know!) - to babble. Of course I couldn’t think of anything to babble about (we’re talking extremely sporadic drops here), but I still wanted to babble, so I babbled about why on earth I feel this strange need to babble. Hence the babbling.

Ehem.

I feel satisfied now.

Blog Numero Uno!

What a wonderful idea a blog.

I love to write! I have a folder in my computer labeled "Precious Babblings" that I finally created after realizing how many random documents filled with random ramblings cluttered this laptop. I like to write them, and I especially like to read them. If I ever take myself too seriously, going back and reading a few "precious babblings" will fix that in a jiffy.

The thing is, most of them are pretty sarcastic, a handful are just silly, and I would say 90% of them are either really depressing or extremely... jubilant. Because those are the times you itch to write. Ya know? I'll try to avoid the total extremes here. I'll have to remember a blog is something people can actually read. Not just notes I stick in my pathetic little "Precious Babblings" folder to either delete or laugh about later. Okay, some of them are alright.

Anyway. I gotta do some homework. So toodles.

Stasia