The Key to Adventure

It has been a decent while since writing about my ever impressive ability to entangle myself and others in safe, fun, and wholesome activities. I am going to try and give a brief synopsis of what dire situations I have been putting my most recent victim into throughout this past month. On our first adventure, ole Blackie only briefly revealed his ever thoughtful self by making us late to a marionette performance. Being late forced us to stowaway our recently purchased sandwiches in obscure hiding places and made my mouth water as its wafting goodness tempted me to pull it out of its indecently loud wrapping paper. Now the second adventure is where I introduced poor Scottish eyebrowed lad to the full effects of deciding to hang out with one such as I. After researching the hot pots in Spanish Fork, it was decided we needed to go there. Best time to chart a path along an unknown trail: sometime after sunset. Getting to the trail itself was an adventure as per my victim and I are both directionally and technologically challenged. We possessed not just one GPS to guide our way step by step, but TWO. Instead of relying on those imaginary satellites with their silly navigating instructions, we decided to practice our appariting skills we had mastered at Hogwarts. It would have worked had we learned how to apparate objects (such as the car) along with ourselves. We finally did reach the trail and then my new favorite victim revealed the many preparations he had made for our journey to the sulfurous pits of lore. Items of protection in backpack: a jump rope (for tying any of the lewd attackers lurking on the trail), an orange and packet of fruit snacks (food to tide us over for a few weeks in case we got lost), a head lamp, a camel back, and a pair of matches. Looking back at our preparations, I really can't discern why we weren't more successful. On paper, we sound like the best two people in the world to hike on hidden paths in the middle of the night. To keep from making this an abnormally long post, I will simply say this: We took the wrong path despite a sign telling us it wasn't the right one, found a lovely meadow instead of the natural hot tubs, missed out on seeing naked bathers, and had a grand time doing it. Small insert. My poor father was the unfortunate person that was told I was planning on going with a boy I didn't know that well yet in the middle of the night to find hot pots a good forty minutes from civilization. It was really great for him to sit for the many hours I spent being lost next to the phone praying the idiocy of his oldest daughter wouldn't bring about her death. What a good poptart that man is for not sending me back to my real, black cloud following parents long ago :)

The second part of this month has been consumed with my effect on impairing technology. While my victim will claim his car key malfunction was due to a "hot tub" incident, it really stemmed from a constant leakage of my black cloud into his life. One of the key incidents happened after we had snagged us some dang good (free!) frozen yogurt. The car wouldn't start :( (cause I was there) and we opted to take a faith walk to Denny's. You know what? Eating a $2 cheese quesadilla at 11:00PM has magical effects. Miracle on Bulldog Street: the car started. The car key failed again two days later in the parking lot of the temple. We decided our faith walk should initially be up the canyon instead of to a food source. I should have learned from my last experience on a trail that as much as I love trails, mountains, roughing it, ect, they don't love me back nearly as much. Nature is the boy I loved all through elementary school and I am still the awkward poofy banged girl pining for it/him to love me back. The car didn't start :( What do you do when things don't happen the way you want to? Drown your frustrations in food. One can also drown in sort of emotions in food really: sadness, happiness, success, giddiness, ect. We decided to taste the delectableness that is Creamery on 9th food and drown any frustrations in fries, sandwiches and, of course, ice-cream. In all, it was actually quite fun to get stuck and use our creativity to create other venues of adventure.

I shall close this sucker with a few expert comments: some may be asking why this poor, poor victim is still under the impression all above incidents are directly correlated to me and my constant companion, Blackie. If everyone could do me a good one (or a solid, however you feel like stating such a phrase) and not tell him, that would be awesome. I understand by requiring this of anyone is technically aiding and abetting in a possible death of either me or him or both, but I feel it necessary to ask anyway. Hope everyone else's adventures are going splendidly and safely! Also, continue to stay away from parking garages, creepy men, and blueberries!

For Sarah

This is an exert from a "thought paper" I had to write for my missionary prep class. Apparently my sister's charm knows no end cause writing about her helped me wrangle a 100% out of it

“For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands."

She is my earliest and fondest memory. Whether from actual memory or a re-creation of stories told, the moment I was told of her coming is etched into my heart the same way every other part of her is. My loving parents sat on our old couch and told my almost three year old self they were going to have a baby. As they searched my face for reaction, I calmly replied “I know. Her name is Sarah.” When my parents attempted to explain they didn’t know if the baby was a boy or girl yet, I defiantly reiterated my knowledge of her and went back to playing with my toys. Turns out I knew what I was talking about.

Sarah was a beautiful infant. A shock of gorgeous blonde curls framed her chubby, smiling face. She giggled and gurgled and warmed the hearts of all who met her. She was the sister I had been hoping and praying for. When she was a toddler, I remember having a terrible nightmare about her. We were standing on an impossibly high, circular arena surrounded by crowds of jeering people. My sister and I were in the center of the arena fighting for the entertainment of those around us. I managed to push her off the edge and left her clinging to its side. She looked up at me in the dream and begged me to pull her up and protect her from falling. In the dream, I failed as a big sister. I woke in a cold sweat, rushed to her bedroom, and reached through her crib to touch her little hand curled in sleep. “I promise I will always protect you Sarah. Always. I won’t ever push you off the edge. Promise.”

As years went on, I certainly pushed my sister to the edge of her emotional limit as she did mine. We fought viciously with one another though we loved each other just as fiercely. Worldly and spiritual trials simply strengthened the bond created in our pre-mortal life. The bond we share now is one of the greatest blessings I have yet to know. She is my constant anchor to believing in love, in the power of temple blessings, in a knowledge of how well our Heavenly Father knows us, in the truth that families can be together forever and in finding the ultimate joy we can while on this earth. I understand more fully how the Savior must love His brothers and sisters through exploring how deeply I love my own precious sister. She has given me glimpses of what the Celestial kingdom must be like through all the laughs shared, all the charitable pasting of each others toothbrushes, all of the tears spilled, and all of the ever pervading love felt. One of the few things I am able to claim a firm knowledge of is that my sister and parents were blessing my life long before we all came to earth, that they are my greatest blessings I have on this earth, and that I will be eternally bound to them long after we leave this earth.