Pirate Play

Treasure Island has opened!

Opening night I sat on the ‘good side’ with fingers crossed. There were some things that did not go so well during the final dress that had to … go better. When the lights came up on Sam in the Southwest corner of the stage my heart leapt, it had begun. I’m certain that during the first ten exciting minutes of the show I jumped three times, hid my head in Scot’s shoulder twice, and was surprised as feet slid across the stage – and I had seen it all, close to four times a week, for the past four weeks. As the show progressed I would cross my fingers or sit at the edge of my seat, certain that if I leaned forward enough they would hear what I was thinking and remember that that blade is getting awfully close to Cooper’s head or that the barrel needed to be moved a bit to the left. Amazingly, they heard me … that or realized on their own, which is far more likely.

Greg slammed the stick down, Garrick hobbled without hesitation and looked as one-legged as a two-legged man is capable of, Cooper delivered his narration as the child, Tim died as best I’ve ever seen, Jeff died with a shake that made me hide my head again … As the lights came down and the ‘bum, bum, bum, bum’ came out over the sound system I imagined Cooper stomping with arms ‘a flyin’ out of Vom 2 but he did not, he walked out in the darkness. It was fantastic.

The rest of the evening proved to be quite the adventure in discussion and such. Let’s just say there was a bit of miscommunication in the discussion, a heated debate, a Clark-like attitude that normally only comes from the Older Brother, a Mount-like stubbornness sounding off, and then a sudden clarity as tones were lowered and nerves were calmed. Neither of us came out with any bruises, as far as I could see!

Last night I took the family crew ~ extended ~ to see the other cast open. I was a bit less nervous but still jumped as Bradford slammed his walking stick, screamed a little scream as Danny slammed his sword against Josh’s sword, shook a bit inside as Pono walked across the stage and leaned forward with happy and random pirate thoughts as they set up for the dock. Skyler added sincerity and honesty, as honest as a young pirate player can I suppose. I still laugh when I hear the other Kacey as the parrot announce intermission and smile as Neil dances across the stage, after six weeks.

It’s a good show … a great show! Now, as John would say, Yarley Yarely Yarely!

In other news … BYU Rugby … yep … go here …

A Letter to You

Dear Uncle Mike,

You’ve been gone for a bit now, four years this Friday, I always know when it gets close - my heart tends to be a bit more sensitive and my eyes a bit more free to shed tears. Are you ready for your update? Things have changed significantly over the past little while.

The President is a man named Barack Obama. I’m certain we would have had our disagreements about my campaigning for him. But our disagreements, whether they were regarding a particular candidate or an issue never was cause for continuous contention. There were heated moments, loud voices but in the end I was firmer in my resolve, partly due to the stubbornness I was born with, but more so because you played Devil’s Advocate and forced me to use words rather than tears to fight for what I believed in, for who I believe in. These words would have to be well thought out and accurate, you find the wholes if my logic had any. I had to not just believe but know for certainty if I was going up against you. I’m certain we’d continue to ‘discuss’ the man that now occupies the White House but it would be a good thing, for both of us.

I’m still living in UT. I had a moment a few months ago where I saw the mountains as safety rather than a cause for claustrophobia. I haven’t ridden a horse up in the mountains, not since I fell off of that dang animal. But I think that maybe someday I will again. Last week a friend of mine and I took his bike, 500, up into the canyon up north - you would have loved it, I did.

The family is … well, some may not wish to claim the Mount gene as the predominant one but guess what … those that aren’t claiming are those most responsible for the ridiculous drama that most of us just tend to ignore to the best of our abilities, sorry. Grams is trying hard to ‘talk’ through it all, Gramps just loves us all ~ although, as you remember, he did mention I was still the favorite. Most of us are proud to be part of the Mount clan and find strength and joy in one another and the rest … will learn, right? If not, you can slap ‘em upside the head when you see them next.

In other news, I’m growing up.

I remember a talk we had early one morning, you brought your jeans up for me to iron. Let’s not talk about the face I made nor the words that you had to say to get me to actually iron them. After those words were spoken, you spoke to that 16-year-old-girl that I was about the next steps. At that point it was college considerations and the latest guy that was keeping my thoughts occupied and my Dad a bit nervous. There was a jovial look in your face as I looked up from those denim pants. “Kas, you have no idea what’s coming.” You were right. I still have no idea what’s coming.

I know that some days I want a dog, some days I want a baby, some days I want my own house, some days I want to travel the world, some days I just want to lie in bed in A’s sweater and a great mindless novel.

But I don’t know what’s coming. What I do know is that I can do all I can to live as I should … serve those around me, find joy in the sunrise, make my bed, call and express my love to my family as often as possible, attempt to express my gratitude and appreciation to those others that I adore, worship and gain necessary knowledge in the House on the Hill (the Hill in Bountiful or Draper Uncle Mike, don’t worry, I’m not moving to DC). I know that when I do these things, I do not worry about not knowing ‘what’s coming’ because it will all come in its time, as long as I am willing to accept it as it comes. Sure, there are hard days, sad days, frustrating days, confusing days … but I’m beginning to understand that these make life the ‘rich tapestry’ it is.

I often find myself rereading that final letter you sent me as I watch the sun go down behind those mountains you love so much. I’m going to continue to hold on and enjoy this journey. I’m going to continue to hold fast to His love and the love of our family to bring me Home. I miss you each day but I am certain you’re close. Thanks for fighting for us up there … we’ll all continue to fight the good fight down here.

I love you.

Your favorite

Kasi

Loud and Proud

I am not ashamed to admit it ... not one bit. I will say it for all of the world to hear ...

I loved 17 Again.
A group of 'Gals', as Bill would refer to us, took off this afternoon and made it to the theatre to be greeted by a herd of young teenagers giggly for the film. The look on each Father's face ~ I love that somehow the 'Daddies' always get finagled into these films before the mother ... I will be the mom that begs the daughter for permission to take her and her friends! ~ as he saw a group of mid-twenty-year-olds meander to our perfect seats was a mixture of shame and humor.

However, I am not ashamed to say that we were the loudest group in the audience, what N with her squeals and our constant chatter about how fantastic Zac's hair looked or how classically attractive the white tshirt and jean look is. He is absolutely hot ... I'll say it again ... He is absolutely hot. Yes, he is 21 years old. But as the 'Gals' said as we were leaving, I was the only one in the group that could actually leave without a twinge of guilt as I was not returning home to a husband! And let's remember folks, addressing the larger percentage of readership here ~ my family ~ both Elder Uncle's had cougars of their own the first time around.

So thank you New Line Cinema ... thank you for an hour and 51 minutes of quality time with Zac. It has inspired within us a High School Musical Marathon and perhaps even a Hairspray thrown in there somewhere.

This man ~ yes, I will call him a man ~ has inspired each of us to encourage the men in our lives to grown their hair out a bit, buy those hot skinny jeans, and dance in the living room. Or maybe just encouraged an evening of snuggling.

Please note ~ as was discussed this evening ~ I am more than aware that it's films like this that cause frustration in the single men I know ... because they don't wear the skinny jeans. I am more than aware that it's films like this that cause the rolling of the eyes in the married men I know ... because they don't dance anywhere, let alone in the living room. I know that it's films like this that make my Father sigh ... because he has no hair to grow out. I am aware of the reality of life, thank you. I would just much rather live in the world of Zac Efron ~ at least for tonight, thank you.

The Written Word

I made it to The Nook last night, both M&S were tucked away in bed. I had a few final things on my TODO list for the day. I got through with the mundane and then sat Indian Style on the ground, reach under my bed, and pulled out two black wicker boxes. This is my happy place, my own little Hallmark store in my own little room. There were two situations that needed to be addressed via witty remarks on recycled paper. I pulled back the lids and started the search. Thanks to my OCD the first card was found quickly, a perfect match for the situation ... he would laugh and I would be off the hook for my indifference.


The second search was a bit more difficult. She needed something bold, something honest, something to inspire. I went through the 'inspirational' section ... too heavy, more for those darker times in life. This isn't a dark, nope it's bright. I fingered through the 'here for you' section but found nothing that would wow her, make her laugh, and get her into the car to do the deed. I laid back on the floor, contemplating the plethora of cards in front of me ... how could I not have a card for this? I have a card for everything ... or so I thought. There was no card for this instance. As I studied the ceiling and contemplated getting into my pajamas my mind wandered back to the two instances I've shown my 'habit of cards' to others.

***************************

We were heading to a birthday party. We needed a card. He wouldn't leave the room, as many times as I tried to send him for things. I hesitated and he noticed. "You okay there Slick?" It was going to come out at some point, we would have to discuss the financial side of my habit at some point ... might as well be on a Sunny Day when everything else in life was fairly normal. I pulled out one of the boxes, getting a raised eyebrow response. I pulled out the other box, sheepishly. His hands dove into his hair, as they do when he's not certain if he should laugh or give a lecture. "Kasi Jean ..." I quickly reminded him of my inability to discuss things, feelings of any nature, and that these cards were my way of keeping friends and people that are more than friends in my life. He laughed and sorted through the 'Funny Birthday - Boy' section for the next three minutes, letting it all sink in. "Okay, you buy cards," he said pulling out a card and plopping a kiss on my head. We never spoken of it again.



I had just a minute before we were walking out the door. Our friend was sad, in need of a card! She knew I had a card stash, as she had been the recipient before, but her reaction to the box was classic. "SERIOUSLY!?!" I looked up at her, like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. "Maybe?" The laughter that followed lasted a bit longer than I was expecting. "Wow!"

***************************

I shot up and began my search again. I've discussed the card sending thing with a few others - but only two have actually seen! And having seen, she deserved a perfect card for this moment in time. I sorted and resorted, I read and reread. I had to have a card for this! NOTHING! I found nothing!

Dear Hallmark,

I need you to make a card for a friend that needs to JUST KISS HIM , without conversation, because said 'him' is going to sometimes open the door but sometimes not. He'll sometimes hug but sometimes not. Said 'him' is confused and she needs to clear his head with a good KISS. Can you make a card for that, QUICKLY!?!?

Best Regards,
Kasi (yes, I'm on a first named basis with Hallmark)

Okay

This past week has been an interesting time for me. Clearly there was a moment on Wednesday that threw me for a bit of a loop. But before that, during that, after that, as I would turn on CNN or skim through an email sent from a friend involved in the happenings over the pond or open the paper to see the latest report on the Summit ... well, I began to wonder all over again what I was doing with my life.

I had a few conversations with others about life and the decisions we make. I opened up past notes I jotted down on sacrament bulletins when thoughts would come to me. I opened up the scriptures to some of my favorite passages. I found letters I had written while I was on my mission, so driven and so planned. I savored words from my Father, through my Father, as I had written them down after hands were removed from my head. I found a card that had been sent a month or so ago full of loving words to inspire and motivate. And yet, even with all of that, I still felt that I was missing the action and felt sorry for myself.

Last night I made it to the Nook and had a moment to myself. The night had been much like the week, busy and full of hints toward a future without me truly understanding what that future is. I sat on my bed for a long time, staring at a picture frame I have yet to fill and feeling that emptiness reflected within me.

I was stunned out of my 'pity-me' moment by a call from a friend I haven't heard from in a bit. Stunned is a bit of an understatement. I did not pick of the phone for fear of the conversation that might follow, I'm a bit of an inadequate communicator and a worse liar ~ I'm certain he would hear everything I was feeling in my "Hello". The message was quick, "I'm here. I have tickets for tomorrow afternoon, good ones (he laughed - I've missed that laugh). Give me a call and I'll pick you up Kas." I replayed it several times. The last time we talked indicated that this would not be normal behavior. I sent a text, my least favorite way of communication, "See you at 1:15 at the Nook."

I distracted myself into a few hours of sleep after scanning each page at www.recovery.gov and watching The Sound of Music, plus all of the 20th Anniversary footage.

I awoke quickly, I was tempted to call my bail-out buddy in CA and tell him, that in spite of the miles between us lately I needed him here to save me, but instead I made my way over to the theatre for four hours of Pirate Play. There's something to be said about the relief of watching a production come together. Perhaps it is that for the first 20 years of my life my Saturdays and summers were spent worshipping at the alter of the stage. Perhaps it is that for a few brief moments all of the control is accounted for, no unseen Hand is in charge of which way a scene is blocked or which word would become the frate word in the delivery of a line. Perhaps it is that as I sit there on book my mind wanders to the days when my biggest worry was whether or not Cory would let me walk barefoot on stage or if the ads would come in for the program. Perhaps it is that as I hear the call for props or John indicate a set change I like to close my eyes and see the chandelier I begged Adam to make and the staircase Dave eventually provided adorning the stage full of the youth we loved to work with. Those four hours passed too quickly.

I hesitated to leave but left. On my way to the Nook my favorite AM station was revisiting the Summit. I tried not to pay attention but all of the sudden I remembered everything that had been going through my mind for the past little bit and the feelings of discouragement and wandering took back there prominent place at the forefront of my heart and mind. I had no time to clear the thoughts before I saw him opening my door, "You okay?"

"Of course," I plopped a kiss on his cheek and quickly made it to his car.

As we sat in the ginormous Conference Center very few words were shared. I opened up my scriptures and devoured the distraction. As the choir began to sing I closed my scriptures, closed my eyes, and relaxed for the first time in quite a while. I felt his arm come around me and that was the key that unlocked the tears built up. "Kas," he whispered into my ear.

After two hours of inspiring words and intermittent tears next to a friend I came to a conclusion and received the peace that I wish I could remember and hold on to for the rest of time for it seems the trials of life are all resolved with said conclusion.

We walked out of the Conference Center and to the car in silence. I took a deep breath as I sat in the car waiting for him to make it to his door knowing he would ask. He did not, likely for fear I wouldn't answer as that seemed to be our largest problem. As we made our way back to the Nook I asked him to just drive, our favorite pastime. I'll share with you what I shared with him ...

I like to be in control. I like to know what my tomorrow is going to bring and have it written down in my Moleskin planner. I like to know that at the end of each daily event or task I will open up that planner and put a perfect little check mark beside it. I like to know that I am being productive with my life and giving all that I can to each thing that I am involved in. I like to know that my family is well, happy, and also being productive in life. I like to know that my friends are soaring, surfing, skiing, loving, laughing and dancing through life with hope and excitement for what is to come. I like to know that on Tuesday I will do my laundry. I like to know that on Thursday I will take Syd to the library and she will talk too loudly. I like to know that I have to prepare for 24 April, knowing ahead of time that I'll need a few extra minutes in Ecclesiastics and some time on the hill in Utah Valley. I like to know that on Friday I'll get a text from Dad at about 7:45 wishing me a Happy Friday. I like to know that that same afternoon I'll hear my Grandfather tell me I'm his favorite and talk to Grams about the same subject we've been discussing for the past six years. I like to know that I'll need to get gas on Wednesday afternoon. I like to know that the first week of June I'll have a moment of remorse as I remember Reeve and Charlie begging me to come back and do the show. I like to know things.

So when I don't know things ... when I thought I had a decision made and I get ready to pack up and jaunt half way across the country and then I feel that decision is not the correct one and I have to stay ... when I decide to try to make things work and then am told that its not worth it because my heart will never be there ... when I want things one way and it is made clear to me that my way truly is not the High Way ... I have to have a moment.

But after that moment I find a moment of relief, of peace. I know that there is a God above watching over me, leading me to where I need to be. I know that my Savior is here, already having felt my anxiety toward the unknown, my fears for the future, my frustration with my inadequacies. I know that this peace is a only a piece of what They offer to me but that I get stubborn and selfish and forget to ask. I get stuck. So sitting in that Conference Center, with thousands of other people, I was blessed with the understanding that those words were for me. I'm where I need to be, where I should be ... the larger picture will be completed each day, one piece at a time.

...

In other news, we now have a Spanish TV station, this is the picture taken of Denny, Uncle Max, and Marcos ... on the front page of the business section in the paper! IndyVision, in cooperation with MountVista Corp., launches Tuesday. Mom, Dad, Uncle Joe, and Uncle Matt are missing from the picture in the new studios right downtown ... I suppose they could have just used a family picture. I could not be prouder of my parents and pseudo parents for following their dreams these past few months.

April Fools Lesson

I love these little holidays ... St. Patrick's Day, Cashmere Pulaski Day, April Fool's Day ... I enjoy the fun, humor, and laughter that each day ensures.

This year's prank was well planned out. Monday morning it all began, BBBB (henceforth known as B4) was the target (all other names have been changed to protect the innocent). Barb had Skyler, her boyfriend, call B4 as Burt (for those of you unfamiliar with Burt, we've dated ... not dated ... dated ... not dated ... dated ... not dated ... for a bit of time. B4 has been on the band wagon for Burt since counseling on the first freak-out moment).

Skyler: B4, this is Burt.
B4: Hi there.
Skyler: I need to talk to you about Kas missing some work this week.
B4: Can I call you back in just a moment Burt?
Skyler: Sure.

B4 called 'Burt' back from a quiet room so we were unable to hear that part of the conversation. However, Skyler was quick to call Barb and say "He bit hard." What did he bite? Oh, just the fact that people, namely me, were going to final have to face up to reality and answer an eternal question yes or no, in person.

All of Monday afternoon B4 was smiles and laughter. Encouraging any type of conversation regarding Burt. I had the hardest time not laughing, most of the day I had to stay in my own little corner, ignoring the outside office world.

Tuesday, I was supposed to come in after having a fight the night before ... a fight caused by unexpected visits and just the general orneriness of Kasi ~ absolutely believable. I sat with Itunes turned up again. It wasn't until the end of the day that it was actually discussed with B4. He had been talking with Jeff, another co-worker, for most of the day regarding my backup ~ because obviously I was going to need some time off to plan a wedding. Jeff encouraged the thought process and pushed B4 to a new depth in his bite. Jeff had said that he was under the impression that Burt and I had gotten into a pretty bad fight. B4, because he is such a good guy, was worried. Our conversation late yesterday afternoon went something like this.

B4: So people are in town? What are the plans?
Me: Ummm ... well, I don't really know.

At this point I did something with my eyes, something that people that know me can immediately identify as my 'lie cue' ... B4 knows me.

B4: You're lying, you did that thing with your eyes Kas.

I WAS WORRIED I HAD BLOWN IT, I've never excelled at story telling or lying ... MAYBE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER HAD I BLOWN IT.

Me: Oh, I guess we're going to dinner but we had a fight so I really don't know.
B4: A bad fight or a normal fight.
Me: It was average.
B4: Was it your fault?
Me: Probably.
B4: Kasi, apologize. You just need to understand that you have to say you're sorry.
Me: I have a hard time apologizing.
B4: Kas, if you want this to work, you need to apologize.

I had to turn my head ... he was teaching me a valuable lesson. HUMBLE YOURSELF.

This morning I was hesitant, we all were. We brought in a cake to lesson the blow. The plan was for me to tell B4 that Burt had asked, I had taken the ring, and left more confused than ever then ask him to go with me into the conference room so we could talk more about it. Waiting for us in the conf room was going to be the entire team, 19 people, with the cake. End of story.

However, that failed. He made it to the conference room without me to look for some 'missing employees'. I was left at my desk in a panic, how was this going to come to an end? I for certain was not getting engaged and couldn't have B4 thinking I was. Barb, Katy, and Ashley had confidence that we could still pull this off ... drag him out just a bit more. It took a five minute pep talk in the bathroom to convince me that this could be done, even then I took Barb in the meeting room with me, I was going to blow it.

This is when I should have stopped it...

B4 comes in, concerned that the girl who sits quietly in her corner when things go wrong, is now visibly (thanks to a splash on the face with water) upset. He asks what happened and I, with Barb's help, told the story. B4 then got serious. He spent the next ten minutes telling me why I shouldn't be scared, why I should finally stop running, why it didn't mater what might happen. What did matter is whether or not I was willing to see it through. I listened and all of the sudden real tears came. It was basically a therapy session, one of the best I've ever had. He was honest about what would come. He was honest about what initial reactions I may have. He was honest about it all. By the end of the conversation I was convinced that marriage, to Burt or anyone for that matter, is no longer something I run should run from.

When we left the room ... the group was there with cameras in hand. I think my tear stained eyes were the biggest surprise to them. To me, the biggest surprise was rather the fact that after 9 years of running, six failed relationships, real therapy sessions, and countless hours pondering things ... I apparently do want to get married. Who would have thought?