Williams - Final Assignment

For my final project I had to design and create a 3 Dimensional Pop-up business card. It is done and this is what it looks like. I am now officially on spring break for one week. Yeah!

Williams - Fire Scare

This is Herbie checking out the fire engines right in front of our house. It was exciting for Herbie and Sage to see all the action. Our next door neighbors house caught on fire (I think it started with their dryer). Our street was closed off, my car was blocked in, and the neighbors pets are all hanging out on our front lawn in those cages behind Herbie. They have 3 dogs, a hamster, a bird, and a rabbit. I am all paranoid about my house catching fire now and my mom not being able to get out if I'm not home. I pray that never happens, especially if Herbie is home with her. Sage had a friend over and her mom came to pick her up and couldn't get to our house she had to walk a couple blocks and was worried because she thought it was our house.

That is the gayest photo

Who is in charge of this blog? Nicole I am leaning your way, in the 10 years we have known each other you don't have a better photo that you could have used? Anyways it is nice to check in every once in a while and see how the old gang is doing. I wish I made it to St. George more often and got to hang out with those amigas down there. Sorry Ciara it has been a long time and maybe next time you come to St. George I will be able to come down, but maybe you don't come to St. George that often anymore. Maybe St. George isn't that great anymore. I would like to go to the movies sometime though or do something that is relaxing but also spend time with friends at the same time.

The Slightest Disturbance

...can really screw me up YO.

I'm confused about the weather and haven't developed a new routine. My sister bought the house next door. My Mom moved in !!! What the? I'm so confused. Half my things are in storage. I'm eating weird things. I don't know when I'm supposed to grocery shop or eat or rest or nap or take Anika to the park.

And the big one: we switched from DirecTV to Dish Network and I am so homesick for my old remote. Who do these people think they are making the channels climb as you scroll up?

Also: I can't find any freaking girl scouts. Everyone else all over America seems able to get their hands on as many thin mints and somoas as they want. Everyone. Except me. I just know this town must be teeming with unseen girlscouts. Are they in cahoots, staying just without my sight? Illicit drugs are in plainer sight! (and with protocol for acquisition I can understand) But what, I ask, has a girl got to do for some damned cookies? I've got an itch. And I need a girl scout to scratch it.
Where are those little brats?

Williams - Enrichment

Being the RS Enrichment Counselor, I was in charge of enrichment this month and we had a fabulous turn out, over 70 people. We did a 100 dresses theme based on The Hundred Dresses book. We had sisters donate dresses and then we gave them to a women's shelter. We displayed the dresses and had dinner and even a chocolate fountain. I was in charge of decorations and thanks to Herb's mom it looked beautiful. Herb made all the stands that the little dresses are hanging on and then I spraypainted them. I had a sore thumb and fore arm for a couple of days. These are pics from the evening.

Williams - Crazy Kids

Williams - What's going on?

This is what I have been up to lately. One is a tabletop display for a cruise line that dispenses matchboxes. The other is a tabletop display for a restuarant advertising dessert. My third project I am in the middle of creating and it is a 3D Pop-Up business card. Dimensional Design is the class and the projects have been time consuming. It ends on Saturday. Yeah! And then I have a week break before my next class. I think I will be either cleaning window sills (nasty mold), painting Sage's room, going to the zoo if the rain ever lets up, and watching the 3rd Season of 24.

Dramatic irony.

pictured is my nephew, Jake.

coconut cake

It may be generic and mainstream but so am I. That's why I love Pottery Barn through and through. I have always dreamed of a matching set of glasses. I love these recycled green glass tumblers. And I've often fantasized of something beautiful for my jewelry... don't you love this lotus stand? It's on sale for only $80. HA! Do people really consider that a sale? Well, keep fantasizing Alana. Maybe if it was $8 I could buy it. And a matching set of glasses? That's for rich folk.















If we want to (do we?) talk social structure of Europe, let's note how families move in together to survive. Yes, my very own Mama is moving in with me on Saturday. She takes my Dad's social security and can make it but not quite. And me- well that's another story. Can you say Brandon isn't getting a paycheck this week and even when he does it usually bounces? Can you say a car that is broken AGAIN!? Can you say medical bills to the blue sky? (if I'm screening your call it's because I think you might be IHC's collection agency- I'll pick up as soon as our tax refund arrives.) My Mom already helps so much. She buys all of Anika's diapers. It's no wonder my Mom can't quite make it. I doubt she's excited to move in. Would you want to live with me and B, silently enduring dysfunction, day after day? It's not the greatest gig in the world. I know she just really wants to help us by renting a room. Plus, I HATE it when my Mom lives alone. I'll be glad to have her here. She is so hilarious and full of life. She is FUN.

Somehow I don't really care about any of it. Yes, I had nightmares last night about Brandon job hunting. But I also dreamed about a Pepperidge Farm frozen coconut cake and how I would slice it into 9 delicious squares. They register equally on the think-O-meter as far as I'm concerned. Everything always works out. There's certainly a roof over my head and food in my belly. Dare I ask, what's the worst that can happen?

Okay, never mind. Because what truly scares me is the direction our country is headed. Real nightmares are made of irreversible change. They are made of "everything a human right". They are made of cradle-to-grave class distinction. They are made of big government eating my children and stealing my thunder.

I just don't get it. Because even though we are struggling I don't expect anyone to help me. I expect to help myself. I'm American. Isn't that what we do? I want to scream at Washington- I don't feel entitled to the world so don't give it to me! It makes me a true, pure, sad. I love my America. I don't want to see our independence and drive go out the window.

I thought I was just going to post a cute glass tumbler set?
What have I done?

Heads of State who ride and wrangle,
Who look at your face from more than one angle,
Can cut you from their bloated budgets
Like sharpened knives through Chicken McNuggets.

Now nimble fingers that dance on numbers
Will eat your children and steal your thunder,
While heavy torsos that heave and hurl
Who crunch like nuts in the mouths of squirrels.

Now clever feet that flicker like fire
And burn like candles in smoky spires
Do more to turn my joy to sadness
Than somber thoughts of burning planets

4000 calories

... in one lunch! And I refuse to go to the gym today. I just survived doing our taxes (depressing results), I spent the morning cleaning the fridge, Q is ditching me for Spring Break, and I have one of those head aches from watching too much TV and computer screen.

Wo is me. Oh wo is me.


... I feel better now.

I must admit... I love teaching my CTR 5 class. Call me crazy but I don't think there could be a better calling. The lessons are basic, never too involved, and take little preparation yet it amazes me how they grasp basic truths. Plus, they totally crack me up because they say the funniest things every week. We always play a game with a squishy ball at the end of the lesson where I ask questions about what we've learned. One kid always has something funny and profound to say. This is how it went down today:

Me asking boy: How do you think you will feel when you get baptized?

Boy answers after truly pondering: Wet!

Me trying not to laugh: Yes, you will feel wet. How do you think you will you feel on the inside?

More pondering: hmmm, I think I will feel cold on the outside and warm on the inside.

I LOVE IT!

?

Why are so many people dying lately?

Do you get the feeling we're nearing the end and God's rallying the troops?

...Or is it just that we're getting older and this sort of thing is going to happen now?

We just found out that our good friends and cousins' dad just died in a plane crash at age 49. Add to that the fact that more than 10 people at my school have lost a parent or parent in-law since September. And then there is Q's dad. Echo to Alana's quintessential statement:
Who's Next?

I DREAM OF SUMMER

Seriously can not wait to get back out to Powell. This is waiting for me [and you if I can get you out there] in all its gloriousness!!! Friends, I have a HUGE case of spring fever right now. This week I couldn't even concentrate in class and I was the one teaching.

journal of summer

I just can't get into the jazz this year. Brandon is watching. Amazing how he can stay awake for it but any other night he falls asleep on the carpet at 8. I never made due on my promise to post more of the journal of summer. Its last entry is the day Ciara got married and the next is 3 years later. There is a big chunk of white pages left at the end. I thought you girls might enjoy the last entry: april 20, 2003.

So, page 142 is where the journal of summer, of love, of new circles comes to an end. Not at all an abrupt end but a slow and sneaky end... slowly sneaking away your youth and spontanaeity. Is that what life and trials has done? Wow! What a ride! What a whirlwind of ideas its been so far and I'm only beginning.

So, last weekend I went camping with Nicole, Megan, Brandon and our new friend Brian. It's been a while since I've had an adventure like that so I decided to pack this classic journal. I busted it out at the campfire and we threw around some freeze-dried memories, reading a selection or two. I suggested we all write but noted how even saying that felt wrong. We took notice of how the last entry is when Ciara got married. I guess Nicole has been right all along- marriage is death! Well, that's cruel but true- it's the death of (supposedly) childish traits but hey- it's also the death of fun- at least that's what we've thought from time to time.

All these years and so much slips magically in... even a little bit of maturity? heaven forbid. Nicole and I were discussing how we've changed. We still have fun but our minds are sharp and focused. What a trip. So I close this journal. Yes- there are empty pages still but empty pages appropriately so. Because as we all move on will we ever really feel like it was complete? Our single adulthood, our college years (my months). Will we always worry that there was more to see and do? I dedicate these last few lonely white pages to one more road trip we never took, the ballet shoe shelf never seen, the grad school gone, the loves never known and lost... and who knows what? We never will. But man this life is incredible. We have intense joy, intense love, intense experiences. It only gets better from here my friends.

The trick is to keep the spunk. Learn to take defeat and disappointment with the grace of a woman instead of the fit of a child. Run straight towards that which scares you the most. So, all the lessons learned in this past era- thank heavens I kept this journal- it makes you get reaquainted with yourself. Let the last and final lesson be: don't let growing up and trials sneak up slowly and snuff out your soul.

Our minds are more at rest- no longer gloriously frustrated but content. Is that what it means to find yourself? Well, we move forward trusting only in our Heavenly Father, testing our faith. Here we go on what promises to be intensely something- intensely full of joy? The new era of my life- time to get a new journal. Time to grow up. But not a moment too soon. Did I say earlier that we will always wonder if there was more to see or do? All that matters lies ahead! I haven't even begun. Man, it's a great feeling to be young, to have it all ahead of you, to wonder and wonder and wonder what lies ahead. Remember this Alana- remember the feeling of youth and a clean slate with nothing ahead but choices I will have to make. I've got my soul, my life, my love for everyone to make it.

Look at page 3 of this journal. I was 17- it was my first personal entry. Nothing fundamental has changed. I said. "The world lay as a sunlit valley at my feet and I plan only to be guided by heavens will... I am on my way." (man, I really believed I was going to see the world.) So, whatever plans I had of living in trees and so on- I always know what my ultimate goal was. So far, so good.

One more lesson: don't ever rip any pages out of your journal- no matter what the worry of anyone finding it. I miss you page #10. Something to do with running topless in the canyon. And something else about topless trees or something. Keep everything you write- you will want it someday. I'd give anything to see you page 10 and laugh right now.

Sometimes the light's all shining on me. Sometimes I can barely see. Lately it's occured to me... what a long, strange trip it's been. -Grateful Dead.


All right. I am so regretting the decision to type that sucker up. It was longer than it looked. But I needed the advice from myself. How is it, I wonder, that you can know something once and by writing it down encourage your future self with advice? It's the same kind of strangeness that is dreaming. I don't get how one part of your brain creates a picture-story and the other part watches, acting surprised all along. How is it that my former faith-filled, single and eager self of 22 could give current Alana of 28 a pep talk about the grace of a woman?

i couldn't make this up if i tried. few things compare to the phrase, "i knapped it".
why brandon, why?

like a rhinestone cowboy

I call him the rhinestone cowboy. He wears expensive cowboy boots with his white doctor coat and one too many turquoise rings. He hails from Newport Beach or Palm Springs, I suspect, and has likely settled in Kayenta. He is my vascular surgeon.

I'm sitting in the exam chair with my foot rested on his knee and concentrating very hard on his skin. Please Alana, don't reach out and touch it. Don't reach out and touch it. Don't reach out and touch it! I am hypnotized, mesmerized, stupefied by his older and tanned yet perfectly smooth, childlike skin. He has the rugged Robert Redford look generally suggestive of leather yet I am looking at creamy, buttery suede. Trance-like, I stare, wondering if I could draw patterns across his cheekbone with my finger like I do on my sofa. (You just know the son of a bitch gets microdermabrasion.)

I'm in his office for a follow-up and have just asked him about what seems to be permanent bruising on my calf. "Yes," he says, "it's iron deposited permanently in your skin from the torn veins. You know..." he starts then pauses long as if he were giving me time to realize the obvious, "a good tan would cover up the scars and discoloration."

A tan? I hadn't thought of it. But of course ol' rhinestone would suggest a tan. Skeptically, I glance to his assistant for a second opinion. She nods slowly up and down in agreement, a sympathetic furrow on her brow, as if to gently say, "yes, honey, everybody should have a good tan."

My parents were sun worshipers. Year after year I baked on the beach, burned at our Palm Springs RV park pool, and blistered while camped on the Sea of Cortez, hunting sand dollars. I formed my idea of manhood watching my father rub baby oil on his belly like he was basting a tight-skinned turkey and will forever be unsure of men who use lotion with an SPF higher than 4. (I'm especially skeptical of those who reapply after swimming.)

But my grandmother was a red head. My other grandmother was a full-blooded Swede complete with large chest and blonde hair. So where did my mother and father really come from? I have my theories. One involves my Mormon polygamist ancestors, escaped to the Mexican colonies. My great grandmother, Jen, was 16 when Pancho Villa and his men came through. (general pillaging, raping, etc.) This would account for that sneaky gene sunk deep in the pool.

Where was I?

Fearful of not heeding a doctor's advice, I did the unthinkable. I visited a tanning salon. I continue to visit a tanning salon. I do it for my anything-but-dainty tree trunks one might call legs. I do it for me.

Weekly, I undress and climb into the tanning bed. I lay my large, white, lumpy body down slowly, thoughtfully, grateful this joint doesn't charge per square inch. Like a lamb to the melanoma slaughter, like a sacrificial gift to Ra, like a cold piece of fatty meat about to be nuked, I pull the coffin lid closed. Then I cover my face with a towel. Not because it's my own execution but because my face reddens like mars and scars like the moon. And maybe also because I'm ashamed- ashamed of what my father would think about this unnatural approach. He might tease, "Did the sun burn out?"

I can imagine them all- my leathery father, my red-headed grandma, Swedes and Irishmen alike- maybe even Pancho Villa himself- standing in radiant light behind the pearly gates. (wait- Pancho Villa in heaven?- depends on who you ask) They are looking down on me. I can't tell, though, if they are proud of my initiative and resolve to look good in shorts or ashamed to own me- now officially superficial and vain.

fo rizzle?

yesterday, march 3rd, i ran the air conditioner in my house. the trees have blossoms and are tinged with spring green. daffodils and tulips are popping up. somehow spring always surprises me. it's like, "oh! it's happening again!?" daylight savings time begins this sunday. nothing, not one million dollars, could please me more.

pick it and stick it

Jason, you have to pick it and stick it. I can't be the only freak out there that watches The Bachelor. I can't believe he dumped his fiance after a few weeks together. He said the chemistry changed. yeah. Well, he's been with Molly now for a whole six weeks- and long distance. They have spent a whole three weekends together. I just had to laugh watching them snuggle up as he said, "The chemistry and passion and fun are still there." As it should be at six weeks, mo fos! You just wait ten years... Molly will have gained thirty pounds, she will be wearing your work tee stained with children's cherry tylenol and yelling at you to scoop her some rocky road because she's busy elevating her varicosities. And Molly, you just wait ten years. Jason's breath will smell identical to the insides of a Halloween pumpkin and he will ignore you for nights on end because he is flintknapping on the porch, in the dark, wearing leather chaps over his basketball shorts. Then, and olnly then, will I or the American audience be impressed because the 'passion is still there'.

Williams - I'm here or am I?

I don't have time for this. Can you say life overload? If I can make it through this year sane it will be a miracle. As far as a trip anywhere near Utah, don't count on it. I would love to jump into the beautiful picture that Alana posted of the desert right about now.

We went to the Oregon Coast on Friday with Kelli and her kids and what we thought was going to be a nice relaxing day at the beach turned into a fiasco. We were only there 10 minutes when Sage fell in the ocean. Don't know how it happened because I didn't see but when I turned around she was swimming in about 7 inches of water. I had to run out and rescue her. Keep in mind it is Oregon and cold so we are bundled in beanies and gloves. I think the tide came in and a wave knocked Sage off balance and she went down. I had to strip her down and wrap her in a blanket then I had to go and buy her a whole new outfit so we could finish out our day. It was pretty funny. Below is Sage right after I pulled her out. And the other image is of me carrying her to the car to change. Herbie didn't know what was going on and decided he wanted to cry too and be carried.

Little Leaper

All Anika wanted to do on our hike today was jump off all the rocks. She can't get enough of it. I wish I had some of her energy, as it took Brandon's convincing and some serious caffeine to get me off my fat butt today- old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be.

highway country

It will be Spring soon and the desert will be blooming with indian paintbrush and desert marigolds. I'm in the mood. I'm in the mood to head East across the Navajo Nation in a pick-up, chewing sunflower seeds with the shells on and listening to highway country. (or maybe even the soundtrack to Dances With Wolves.)

I know I would stop at Glen Canyon Dam, walk to the middle as my ritual demands, and stare down into the deep green water of my canyon, shut my eyes and feel the big trucks blowing up wind behind my back. From there, I would follow the electric train line along SR-98 all the way to where it picks up its coal and... keep going... stopping briefly behind the Navajo school bus to count kids hopping out into the dust... one little, two little, three little indians. Dad would think that was funny.

Nearing Monument Valley, I think I'd stop at the Burger King Dad swore was the world's best. And later, past four corners, for an original breast and coleslaw at Cortez's KFC.

I'm in the mood. I'd like to see the desert blooming. I'd like to see Dad's desert- the way it was that one special spring- after the winter of the freakish rainfall- like on that postcard he sent.

After crossing the Dolores river, banks overflowing, I would start to climb. I'd wind up the San Juan mountain range at sunset, brush the timberline at dusk, and descend in darkness to that pretty little horror town... the way I've done it a million times over.

I'd like some time to think about it.
And watch the sun sink like a stone.
On a long drive alone.

a heart to heart with my daughter...

I had a little chat with Anika last night in the rocking chair. The fact that I was rocking her in the rocking chair, you shall soon see, is simply funny. I asked her why she was so out of her mind. My only crime, I pleaded my case, has perhaps been trying too hard.

I was, this very moment, sitting here reading (insomnia) and started cracking up. Leave it to Mary Baker Eddy to set me straight about parenting. No, I have not converted to Christian Science and I still believe in the reality of evil but I do, in fact, own and read a copy of Science and Health With Key to the Scriptures.

page#62:
If parents create in their babes a desire for incessant amusement, to be always fed, rocked, tossed, or talked to, those parents should not, in after years, complain of their children's fretfulness or frivolity, which the parents themselves have occasioned. Taking less "thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink"; less thought "for your body what ye shall put on," will do much more for the health of the rising generation than you dream. Children should be allowed to remain children in knowledge, and should become men and women only through growth in the understanding of man's higher nature.

Yet another gem to pocket from transcendentalism:
incessant rocking + incessant talking to = fretful child.

TROUT

i do my best
to keep pointlessness
at bay. but here,
wet above my
knees, i let it fly.
here, hot and cold,
fingers thick with
thinking, i try to
tie the fly and look
for the net, loosening
the philosophical
knot of why i came
here today, not yet
knowing whether
i'll free or fry
the rainbows
and browns once
they're mine.

By Kathryn Starbuck

Awesomeness also means a lot to me.

Check out this YouTube video.

Yes, that is Travis Poulson sitting behind the computer halfway through the clip and yes, he gets to do this and call it work. This was on Nat Geo in December.

This is what he said about it:

"Here's the project I've been working on at work for the past two years. The worst part is when everything (millions of dollars worth of equipment) blows up and it's my fault. As for the video, my agent is angry because they cut my speaking part. Enjoy!"

I am thoroughly impressed.

Meaninglessness means a lot to me.

Brandon and I just realized we might be incapable of having fun.
I had such high hopes for today.
Somehow all my fun ideas got swallowed by car registration, tax itemization,
and a toddler who didn't take her nap.
At least The Bachelor, Women Tell All was on tonight.
Small, meaningless trash means a lot to me.
What is your Monday's silver lining?
Family Home Evening, you say?
I've heard of that.
The only thing that could somewhat be considered a religious tradition for this family
is cooking quesadillas on the sabbath.
Oh Alana-
you have so far to go,
so much obedience to learn,
so many promises to keep,
and miles to go before you sleep.
and miles to go before you sleep.

Kai Perfume Oil

My favorite thing in the world is this perfume Cara gave me for my Birthday four years ago. I had previously never been a perfume fan but because it is all essential oils it doesn't smell perfumy. It smells like jasmine, lilies, gardenia, and honeysuckle and reminds me of summers at my Grandma's beach house. I think it will be the only perfume I wear my entire life. Kai and I have been together for four years and I am still not sick of its waft.

I looked at the list of devotees on Kai's website and am a little worried about David Duchovney, Usher, and Tommy Lee. They must enjoy the scent on their lovers. ??? Oh yeah- Kai candles- that must be it. phew.

facebook

I know I have tried to persuade everyone to join facebook many moons ago. Only Quinn and Paul jumped on the bandwagon. Oh yeah, Jenny too but she never uses it. I think she is a myspace gal. facebook is so easy. Let me try to sell y'all on it one more time.

I can't count the long-lost friends I have found. I have reconnected with cousins, friends from everywhere I've lived and almost all 4 high schools I attended. I have found friends I grew up with in Lake Arrowhead... people you always wonder "what ever happened to so and so." It's strange that they are all still out there.

I have reconnected with the classics Joe, Josh, Jer and Brad. I never thought I'd lose touch with them in the first place. I recently started finding all my Salt Lake boys- the "Rim Rockers"- Travis, Jared, Bryce, Mark, Dave, Robert, Robbie... and today I found THE Darrin Moon! Can you even believe it? THE Darrin Nephi Moon!

More familiar faces:

Join me on facebook! It will change your life. You will connect with friends you thought were gone forever.

I've Just Decided...

... the sound of the rain is the most beautiful thing in the world. I want to sleep with my windows open tonight.

Dreaming

Isn't this bedroom GORGEOUS? It's raining tonight and I can't help but imagine myself waking up in this fluffy white bed in the rain... Shall we say... around 10ish? Ahh yes, how nice that sounds-- especially after enduring last night with sick Anika which consisted of nearly no sleep at all! I'd like to sleep in with the window cracked so I can hear the rain. When I do muster the strength to finally step out of bed I'd like it to be AFTER croissants and fresh-squeezed OJ and INTO a hot bubble bath. After this hypothetical bath I think I'd go straight back to bed. Now that is a way to start a morning slowly- the way they were intended to be. A girl can dream, right? I've got a funny feeling I'm waking up in the dark and to Elmo's world.