Morning After

Some of you are having a rough morning and are convinced that the next four years will bring this Nation into the depths of despair and beyond repair.  Some of you are rejoicing as you feel we have, by a narrow margin, escaped the Tea Party extreme and a return to the social policies of the 1980s.  Facebook and Twitter have been lit up with your thoughts for the past few months and I've remained very quiet.  But I have something to say right now and I'd like you to go get a Coke or a glass of wine, clearing your head of any ties you may think I have to one party or another as you walk back from the fridge, freeing yourself of all of the ridiculous statements that have been made by your friends and mine on social media sites, and forgetting what your favorite news commentator repeated in ten different ways last night. 

Are you back? Great.  I'd like you to now, with that clear head of yours, watch this clip.  Please note that there is a bit of language, my apologies in advance to those of you with sensitive ears.  I promise however that there is more meat to the clip than just a curse word or two, so make your way through it.

I told you there was strong language.  Some of you may be rolling your eyes here but check the facts, as they are that folks, sadly enough.  But there is hope here {there is that H word that some of you would like to hang me for}.  Clearly there is energy in the generation I belong to, let us channel that energy now in a positive and productive manner.  I remember being in a meeting for the youth leadership when I was 15 years old in Lake Bluff.  We sat in the kitchen of my church building, because where else are you going to gather 12 teenagers and leaders on a Sunday afternoon?, and a prayer was offered.  "Help us Father to be productive and use our time wisely." I remember those words so clearly as I discussed them with my Papa all the way home.  Why was it important to be productive rather than to simply discuss everything over and over and over again? No plea was offered to the Heavens to help us argue our wants to the loudest decibel or stand so stubbornly with our mandate that no forward action could be taken.  No, we asked to be productive so that change would happen (there's that word change!).

Folks, we live in a Nation that depends on us for more than just a fanatic for three weeks at the end of October every four years.  We live in a Nation that depends on our 'tranquil and steady dedication of a lifetime' (Dallin H. Oaks). I belong to a Church that requires this of its congregation.  And said congregation offers that 'much' because we have a belief in Who is asking it of us and a hope and trust in Him.  Our Nation, founded by men of God, requires the same dedication but I am afraid we, I speak mostly to my generation here but let this 'we' be applicable to all reading my words, don't give that.  We want results without being steady participants in the process. We simply get loud every four years. Have you been to a town council meeting?  Do you know who your major is? Is your town a city or a town?  What is the difference and does that effect you? Have you opened your local newspaper, not foxnews.com or cnn.com, but a newspaper that you can hold in your hands over breakfast so that you can contemplate the issues on your drive into the office or discuss them with your children as you drop them off at public school?  Have you written a letter of concern to your congressman?  Have you written a letter to the editor on an issue, ANY ISSUE!? Can you tell me who your congressman is and what his or her objectives are in office? Do you know when your school board meets? These are the people determining the path of the education of your children, you should be aware of who they are, don't you think? What is the goal of the Superintendent of your School District?  How has that budget been allocated? Have you read the Declaration of Independence?  Have you discussed, not argued based on the two minute news clip you watched late last night off of your news affiliate of choice, the issues of our day? Marriage equality, government spending, oil drilling, space exploration, funding for new drug research, legalization of marijuana, small business loans, the housing market, bank bailouts, our role in keeping other nation's oppressed populations safe, severance taxes, foreign relations? Do you know how long your congressman has been in office? Do you know who her greatest ally is in Washington? Do you know what committee your guy is on in the state, does he focus on finance or the social issues?  Who funded his campaign, was it you?  Was it a corporation that now owns him and thereby the vote that represents you?  Have you listened, not prepared your retort, but listened to what the other side may be saying?  If you have not, if you refuse to ... how can we expect those we send to Washington to?  

It is our duty now, the morning after, to stop raising red flags and causing a riot.  It is our duty, as citizens of what could be the 'Greatest Nation' on the earth, to behave like it is such.  To build bridges in our community between sides.  Community is built from neighbor to neighbor and town to town and we need community to become the America that is within us, that is this ideal so many think the 'opposing' side has taken away from them. There are sides so as to provide a balance, do not give up your ideals but do not expect the other side to give up their ideals. But come to the table ~ the large point here is the action of COMING TO THE TABLE ~ ready to discuss the far left and the far right and then come to the middle ground where compromise happens. I do not expect those in this readership who did not see their candidate win evening last to throw the white flag of submission into the air for the next four years and resign to a state of complaining that it is 'not their fault'.  No, you may not have voted for the 'winner' but you are most certainly still a citizen of this nation and it is your duty to remain active ... so that when January of 2016 rolls around (and it will roll around folks, let me be clear that POTUS is not the anti-Christ) you know the issues that surround your community and our nation.

We must be steady in our convictions and our patriotism.  The rights that we claim as our own were fought for and died for by men willing to be steady in their convictions for longer than two weeks and a 67 post argument on a Facebook status. They gave years of their lives, and many gave their lives, for these rights. It is our opportunity and duty to use them properly. Politicians, by definition of late night talk show hosts, are scummy men and women who can't be honest and refuse to do what is good for the common man but most of these men and women are attempting to live up to their civic duty, they need your steady voice and opinion to do so.  If you do not support their cause, tell them so and give them a sound reason.  If you do support their cause, actively support it.  Attend meetings, write letters, make phone calls.  Be active! Be a citizen! Be steady! We all have work to do, so get about doing it.

Some Thoughts

Some of you are just dying to get into my head! So let me share with you some thoughts I've had as of late.

* Shaving when you aren't kissing someone and the weather does not permit shorts is basically pointless
* My hair is still short
* I like things clean, very clean.  Living alone is the best way to achieve this.
* Having parents on the other side of the world presents a difficult moment when contemplating presents {did you catch what I did there?}
* My Pandora Radio rotates between Neil, James, and Tim ~ at least I'm predictable
* I heard Straight No Chaser in Target the other day ... friends having success!! YAHOO!! Hot friends having success!! DOUBLE YAHOO!!
* Bleu and I have been together for five years, she is mine. I have no plans on ending the relationship, she's steady, looks just fine, and paid for. I'd appreciate it if my siblings would stop bruising her bumper though.
* I am not Meredith Grey apparently.  I have parents that love one another, have never been abandoned, and I have absolutely no skills with a scalpel.
* When friends need to avoid the dark and twisty place I turn on Fringe {Pacey all grown up}. The problem with this is  I can't turn it off.  I get all involved in the life or non-life of Peter and the lies and crazy of Walter and another 41.5 minutes doesn't seem like too long but then I need another and before I know its 3 in the morning and I have a call to be on at 730.  At least I'm bright and shiny in my footie pajamas while indulging this desire ... yes, one that started as a distraction for friends is now my very own
*  I work at the House on the Hill on Wednesday nights.  I live for Wednesday nights, truly.
* Having my music interrupted by the voice of John makes me smile {esurance}
* Last night I had a dream that I was living with Adam in the new house and we were to dinner with a group of friends and John and Emily were at the next table over.  I got up to use the ladies room and Emily was getting up at the same time.  We became fast friends and upon our return to the main dining room Adam and John were talking.  We took a picture, exchanged numbers and then I woke up.  The thought of this dream will make me happy for weeks.
* I can do hard things and as it would turn out, they aren't really that difficult
* Midway is beautiful
* I'm not one to have her nails painted.  Toes, sure.  But my fingernails are just not something I pay attention to.  
* I would like to have my dog with me at all times.
* I was raised with a Papa who drove and a Grandpa who drove, I think this is why I judge couples in a not-so-kind-way when the woman is driving
* The family that was sitting in front of us in the Conf Center when the changes in the missionary age was announced was so entertaining ... Mom was crying, sons were texting Bishops for interviews, and the daughter {clearly a Daddy's girl} who had likely never spoken of a mission leaned over to Daddy to announce she was going in a year, Mom cried more
* The cream-puff-cake is a HIT {it's an actual cake folks}
* I am not a concert attender, my ears are far too sensitive
* I have to think before I leave for my Sunday Worship now as the suit coat I normally have is no longer accessible
* Away We Go still warms my heart
* I drive the Rover better than everyone
* Cowboy and Girlfriend still have me wrapped around their finger
* I will never name a child a U name, nope, never
* I will fall in love with any man for at least 3 min if he is wearing a grey cable knit sweater
* I need a bit more tact
* Could you see me working on an Egg Farm? Funny thing, I could.
* I call myself Kate when I speak to myself {which is often}. Thank you Gams.
* My kidney is FULLY functioning ... FULLY FUNCTIONING!
* The mere thought of my rock, at my Lake, with my Grandparents and Buba makes my heart warm.
* EQPs and I are not a good combination
* I have very few pants that fit.  Not because of a weight loss or gain but rather a non-butt that refuses to work in anything!
* If I had more patience for school I would go and get my MSW, then get my LCSW so that I could tell people how to fix their lives and they would listen.  Until that patience comes, I'll tell them and they won't listen.
* The pictures in my office are three years old, that is sad. One would think I'd just get new pictures.  Nope, I'm going to get a new office.
* I need to see Zuri
* The people I Gchat with are the people that I love the most
* I cannot make it to Canal Drive on Wednesday mornings in less than two trips back up to the house, today my neighbor witnessed and giggled at me
* I sing Guys and Dolls in the shower when I'm happy
* I sing Billy Joel when I'm contemplative
* Sister Lewis {my 82 year old trainer at the House on the Hill} is my hero
* Conversations with the Grandparents on speaker phone can help life make a bit more sense
* I'm a scarf girl
* Turns out, I really like my brother in law
* I would love him a lot more if he would father a child with my sister
* I love to cook
* Sundays are a bit scary right now
* Bunk usually knows best, I should listen and remember that more often
* My parents are Spiritual Rockstars ... fact
* I'm not nearly as dramatic as others
* I'm far more dramatic than some
* I type faster when I'm furious
* Can someone explain to me why people love their brakes in the canyons?
* Rach is leaving the Choco
* I'm still thrilled about Pete and Wendy being married, if only for the simple fact that it was there I met Janny and Rach ~ who I really can't imagine not having now.
* Uncle is the best, even far away
* I like to stand on furniture
* Candles are always lit in my house right now
* I haven't had AC or heat on in my house for almost two weeks ~ GREEN!
* People that bring me movies and food are my kind of people
* When I am sick I tend to get sad because I can't do anything, the best way to avoid this is to not get sick and the best way to do that? My kidney and I are sorting through that.
* I believe in adventure
* Walking in a coat, gloves, and scarf with the sun on my face is truly a slice of heaven
* My people are so incredibly talented, in so many different areas, but I think they excel in the area of Kasi
* The ocean sounds really good to me right now

Trying to Remember ... Trying to Be

The world has enough women who are tough; 
we need women who are tender. 

There are enough women who are coarse; 
we need women who are kind. 

There are enough women who are rude; 
we need women who are refined. 

We have enough women of fame and fortune; 
we need more women of faith. 

We have enough greed; we need more goodness. 

We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. 

We have enough popularity; we need more purity. 

~ Margaret D. Nadauld

Today Matters

Four years today I was in an office in West Valley, I was an Anxious Annie but with the confidence and hope of literally hundreds buoying me up and reminding me ‘we can’ I kept a smile on my face.  I had taken off the entire week before off from my 9-5 job to knock doors with the volunteers, organize the masses, sit on strategy calls and focus on getting the Senator from Chicago the delegates from UT, all of them. Michelle had been in town the first week of February, igniting our base to hit the streets and house-meetings to discuss the CHANGE that would come when the Junior Senator made it to the house at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. We hit a lull from late March to mid-May, our volunteers were tired and the general public was already growing tired of the conversation but the fire was re-kindled and burnt brightly that last month.  There was not a single night that I could be found at home … I was a busy bee making a difference. And the day had finally come, we were going to see if people listened.

We left the office at about noon to drive by the some of the polls.  There were our volunteers, making the 11^th hour difference.  My heart was full, so full.  Dave, driving, laughed and said, “Kas, you’re making that Mormon happy face.” I took a drink of my Coke and told him to keep driving while in my mind I thought, “That’s because I am happy!” We drove for about an hour and a half, watching America stand up {warm political fuzzies}.

We made it back to the office as our staff’s anxiety was peaking.  We busted out the honey wheat pretzels and Pepsi, the decided favorite of our crowd {I obviously was nursing my anxiety with Coke} and kept making phone calls, the polls were still open for hours.  My voice got pitchy at about six that evening, the Coke and pretzels not soothing me at all.  One of our regulars laughed and reminded me that ‘we had done all we could have’ it was time to have faith.  Ah, faith … faith in what exactly?  Faith in others to interrupt their routine and vote? Faith that Obama’s message had not only hit the hearts and inspired hope in people but also made the same sense in their minds as it had mine? Faith in my own vote? I went from pitchy to quiet and contemplative in about thirty-eight seconds. Had I done all I could have? Did I convey my own trust in this man to others? Did they get it? Someone went to the fridge and got me another Coke.

I started to get the texts asking what the results looked like at about 6 or so … as if I had a magic 8 ball.  Dave and I looked at one another and rolled our eyes.  We knew that our time at the helm of this ship was up, someone from HQ would be in shortly to run things more efficiently.  We probably should have enjoyed that evening a bit more, laughed aloud so that others could hear our sheer joy in the moment and smiled more often to convey our gratitude for their time and energy in a cause that drove us all …  I know to do that next time.

As our phones indicated the eight o’clock hour we all just stopped where we were, dead in our tracks. I’ll never forget Susanne’s voice cutting through the silence, “Hell, what do we do now?” I fell over laughing, I wasn’t actually sure.  News crews were on site, they had been for a few hours at that point.  I made myself busy with mindless organization of empty boxes, we had no signs/buttons/posters left. The televisions were on.  Somewhere deep inside I knew we had done it … and we had.  14 of our 23 delegates were slotted for the man I believe in … yes, I still believe in him.  There was a sigh of relief, a huge sigh of relief.  And I smiled that content smile.  We had done it.  No one wanted to leave the office that night, I was certain I’d make camp on the couch.

I miss the couch.  I miss that drive and purpose.  I miss our strategy calls and hearing ‘Mormon, what are your thoughts on this?’ when cultural UT issues arose.  I miss the passion that I felt getting me up at 5 so that I could accomplish the work that paid the bills so that I could get to the work that fed my soul, yes it truly did.

I voted today and then wandered {I may or may not have detoured past that office} into my 9-5 office, my calendar full of things to do for Corporate America … things I’m very good at doing.  But there is not that passion.  I’m working towards a lot of things, changing a lot of things, coming closer with each day to that passion.

A new guy at my office, he doesn’t know me well, said that today doesn’t matter.  Excuse me?!? Today matters, even in red Utah, today matters. Your vote counts.  My vote counts. GO VOTE UTAH!! Go VOTE!! I still believe, I still know … WE CAN!!

Two Amazing Women

As the parents pack up the house to leave it for 18 months {oh, they are going to the Philippines to serve over the missionaries in the 17 missions there with mental issues, so fun!} something was discovered, I don't keep much.  I have two boxes {as opposed to my siblings' rooms full of boxes and pictures and keep sakes} ... just two.   I have my mission journals/notebooks with me.  Papa tells me that my boxes are just pictures and some tiny mementos of 'important' events.  I have my things here with me in Utah but likely I could carry everything I truly cared about out in two trips {even considering the weight limitations due to the broken back} ~ I'm just not attached to 'things' like others are. Words however, words are a much different story.

Included in one of those trips would be my wicker box of cards, not the blank cards I have organized by category, but rather the box filled with cards I have received ... Uncle's note to me while I was on the mission, Papa's sincere wishes from one year at girls camp and words of wisdom he has randomly sent over the years, a rare note from the Grandmother {she's more of a I'll-pray-for-you-morning-noon-and-night-but-please-don't-ask-for-written-word}.  When I got home from CA last night I quickly pulled the box out and found two notes, one from Britt and one from Sherrie.

From Britt, 'Strive to be better everyday. And just as the missionaries have companions, and the parents have credit cards, we have the Spirit and you never leave home without it. I am always here for you no matter what!' This was the girl that made it to the first act of my 8th grade production of Grease, knowing she and Ty would have to leave at intermission because of a basketball game already on the calendar.  This was the girl that reminded me, an anxious 14 year old, to stand tall and get involved the last few minutes before my first day as a freshman in High School in the Jones' living room, before we split seminary classes for the year.  And here I was, leaving my home and going to a place that was completely foreign to me because my parents decided to go help a fading aunt.  I'm certain even then I had a hard time expressing my heart ache and frustration.  But my friend, the one that let me tag along and had patience as I figured out how to talk to people I admired, knew that writing down the encouragement would work best for me.  The first year in Indiana I probably read that note on a weekly basis.  I remember calling, this is when long distance was still something parents paid for and took notice of on phone bills, Britt in Logan ... hearing her tell stories of college and counting down the days until it was my turn to be an 'adult'. Three years later I found myself down the street from Britt and Joe at USU.  When I hated it, and I did as change and I have rarely been friends initially, I found myself in their tiny apartment cutting out things for Britt's projects or watching some movie.  There she was, just as she said she would be, with chocolate chip cookies or pizza, laughter about the stupid boys, promises of the 'Joe' I would one day find, and the love of home.

From Sherrie, 'The world can't keep you down, you're a fighter and you change people's lives as you walk down your own path Sweet Kasi.' Sherrie was stuck with me in both Beehives and MiaMaids, making the change with me {the exact week} as I turned 14.  She kept us the night before youth conf each year, pampering us with pedicures and reminding us to be nice to one another while keeping a safe distance from the boys.  She drove us everywhere, Spice Girls and Zach accompanying us from place to place, in that white Suburban.  She was there the day I was told I was moving, to hear the dramatic 15 year old rant about how unfair the world was.  Sherrie was there when I 'ran' home after getting my drivers license, with cookies and open arms as I announced how much I hated Indiana.  Her words came in a card days after my Aunt passed away, I was still numb to it all.  It included more words, words of reality and words of hope to relinquish the pain to our Savior. She always reminded me of the woman inside, the one I couldn't quite see but she was certain was within me.  Before my mission I remember sitting in the office, as she typed a letter or email to Tyler in Chile, and talking about the adventure I was about to embark on.  She must have sensed my trepidation, the decision so fresh and the change so large, and so she bore humble testimony of the truth of the Work I was about to go and do, her eyes radiating the love and passion she had for it. And after my mission, returning to that house on Canterbury ... open arms, laughter, and love ... every time, no matter the hour, no matter the situation.  Even as I type this I can hear Sherrie's laugh as the banter and teasing go on around her and feel her love as she wraps her arms around me.

Sherrie was in an accident, go here to read the words of her loving and devout husband and adoring children as they keep all of her family and friends, and those friends of friends and family, updated.  As I read Brandon's words this evening I could not help but feel a bit more gratitude to have something to actually hold on to from these two amazing women of faith.

To Sherrie and Britt ~ together you make one of the strongest mother-daughter-duos on earth.  Your kindness and love, support and strength, sincerity and humor remind us all that life is ours, to be lived and enjoyed.  As I imagine you there together in Florida I do not doubt that there are angels standing near, keeping close watch while in awe of your love for one another and the faith that dwells within each of your hearts.  Keep fighting and know that I echo back your words to you now - the Spirit is with you always and the fight is within each of you.  I send my love, along with so many others {here and on the other side}, across the miles to you, my friends.

Prodding, Pondering, Pursuing

I'm an odd duck.  One would think that with The Mom in the house I would be able to sleep as soundly as I did back in the house on Jenkisson but this is not the case.  I should have come up to bed prior to Dad {Any-Dad, not Papa} leaving or BiL {little does he know that this is his new nickname! HA! yay for the discoveries at 2 am}whisking off in Bitz' car.  But here I am awake with a mind in over-drive.

Last night Gams posed a question about three minutes into the fourth quarter.  The game was close and I pretended not to hear him. He confirmed that I had, in reality,heard the question and let it sit out there, to be pondered, not pushing for the answer as I prodded him for his response to the very same question.  For the opposite and often wiser sex the possible answers to the question seem endless.  For me, up until a tiny bit ago, it seemed I had the same vast and wide landscape to be ventured upon, experimented with. It was interesting and intriguing when Gams finally gave his response, honest and unknown. 

We got caught up in a ridiculous mishap by Millsap and the resulting overtime and the question was pushed to the back-burner as screaming, jumping, and listening to the eclectic crowd around us took precedence, obviously. But soon, after the Jazz victory was stamped, my mind turned back to the question and Gams began the prodding ... fair enough.  I hesitated, as stating it out loud was still incredibly foreign to me.  With my hands twisted before me I spoke it out loud and before the necessary time for a reaction had passed I wanted to retract my response, not for fear of said reaction but for the abashed way in which it was pronounced.  My voice took no ownership, conveyed no pride in the words which were spoken.

Lots of topics were discussed over the next hour or so, proving there is so much more than good gams, a graceful stride down the court, and priceless peepers to this guy.  Strangely enough, I felt comfortable in our conversation, more than just basketball banter and tights-tie compliments. This comfort level opened me up to a bit of self-reflection after I crawled into bed last night, emotional talk and realizations were occurring for others ... why not me as well? Was my answer truly what my heart wants? Why did I hesitate?  Why am I so fearful of that future that I hope for? Hmm ...

Today WBF called, not thrilled with my company choice for the previous evening nor my location for the day.  He was ornery and I suppose he had reason to be, to a degree.  But I was tired and his orneriness simply pushed me into my own state of the same irritation.  His reaction to my reaction was far from my own.  He heard my tone change to defensive and immediately became this nice and understanding guy, apologizing for his shortness and finding understanding for my erratic behavior. I should have mirrored his response but I failed to overcome my own curt behavior.  He maintained his stride in his second-gear of the conversation.  Bless him.

Tonight I was happy to tease PT but Bells was hurt, so the teasing turned into more of a jab.  I tried to recover but PT was already far beyond frustrated with me and so there was failure there.  I turned to see Luck sitting at the table and words that he spoke three months ago came echoing back into my ears, 'giving up the seven for the one and then the many.' Ah, the familiar echo that has played from 9:12 to 9:16 each Sunday for the last while as I ponder which active and forward motions I should pursue during the week. The echo that combines with Papa's words {from two Sunday's ago when I had to exit stage left prior to the end of the first hour due to a bit of anxiety} of 'the I was ready to quiet the echo down but came home to find couples and invitations to the confirmation of Bitz forward motions. B&B soon joined, followed by Mom and Dad.  As I stuffed envelopes for the forthcoming event my mind went back to the words spoken with trepidation the night before on South Temple.  Here I was surrounded by people who had conquered their fears, taken steps forward into an unknown adventure and made it through with a gift, a timeless treasure.  They had all done it and will get there 'many' as time moves forward. 

My point? I do have a point, as cryptic as it may be to some of you.  I've been told on more than one occasion as of late that I'm a fantastic cheerleader.  I'm awfully great at reminding my 'people' how brilliant and lovely they are and more importantly how capable they are of seeking after and achieving 'it' ~ whatever that may be.  And now that I've discovered, after a bit of wandering and misplaced passions, my own 'it' ... it's time for me to do as Luck asked and PURSUE, leaving behind somethings that aren't as important. It's time to stop hiding in what I have had for so very long, the comfortable and the familiar.  It is time.  I truly have been so very blessed in my life with patient humans surrounding me, buoying me up.  But I've got stuff to do now, dreams to pursue, an answer to be proud of rather than avoid and then regret.  I'm going to go ahead and do that now, right now.

My heartfelt thanks to Luck, Papa, and Gams {unbeknownst to the latter likely} for their timely questions and slightly irritating prodding.

Marching into March

At the beginning of February I spoke with CA, setting goals and such.  February was month of Felicity, happiness.  In the final hours of the month, granted an extra day due to the world's rotation, Aunt Betty passed ... returning to Uncle Bud, the love of her life.  She was granted her happiness, surrounding by her sisters and daughters.
 
I visited Aunt Betty a lot while I was at home.  It was nice going to talk to someone, without the world knowing, who would hold my hand with such delicacy and listen with her whole heart ... forgetting it all moments after I left.  Is it wrong I found such comfort in that?  I could vent my frustrations about x-future-Mr.-Kasi and the fears that I had about it all and she would be sympathetic but not worry about me after I exited her room.  She would ask about 'our' story and respond with smiles and tears.  She would share moments about her and her Bud, laughing at their fun failures and shedding sweet tears over their successes.  It was not a perfect marriage, she was first to admit that, but she certainly loved that man with her whole heart.  When Smiles came into my life, I shared with her my trepidation and she offered me the courage to try again ... and again. I miss her already.

March is March Madness ... CA and I stole the title from the NCAA (if you are lost, bless you - my theater loving friend and just continue reading).  It's a month of booked weekends and moving forward, decisions. He asked that I have two adult conversations this month.  I think he assumes that if he asks for just one I'll find someone else to have it with.  Two means he gets one ... I'm not dense enough not to pick up on that. But there are 31 days in this month and I love waiting 'til the final hour ~ that is Saturday. I asked that he spend less time contemplating and more time living. Cease the day! Dance! Hold hands! Laugh until you pee a little {but not on my couch}! Be read to! Read to someone! Take the picture even if your hair is a mess! Wake up and see the sunrise! Return the text with call! Just show up! and please, SMILE! and breathe.

Emotions ... WHAT!?!?!?

So Tuesday was a great day.  We got to Syd's class in time to decorate the sugar cookies.  Coke was on hand at all moments. And we curled up with one of my favorite flicks, My Best Friend's Wedding.  I didn't read into the film choice as he knows how much I love it and he's a smart man.  It wasn't until my freak out this morning that he put the puzzle pieces together for me.

Why did I freak out?  It wasn't really an emotional freak out, I didn't cry. But it was an email blasted to the West Coast at an early hour vomiting the facts (with a bit of dramatic flair) and how much I wonder about it all and where it all puts me, physically and emotionally.  His response back, from his smart phone in bed no doubt as the hour had yet to see the sun, was laughable. "You are Juls Kas, you want to hold on, keep us all at your beck and call ... Remember though - she dances at the end of the movie, smiling."

Ah, change. Growth. Sharing. These are not words that many would put under the 'strengths' category for me.  But I'm consistent in that.  I remember when the family moved to Indianapolis, I left behind Robert and Tyler ... those were my two 'persons' at the time.  In a world without text messaging and Skyping I found a way to keep in touch, I just went 'home' every other weekend.  When the 'new girl' moved into their lives, I cried.  She was there, ALWAYS.  She was at school with my 'persons'! She was in seminary with my 'persons'! Who was she that she could write the my 'persons' notes? Who was she that she could call him by a new, and unfounded!, nickname!?! I was furious. I remember calling that number, one of the few numbers I have memorized, one Tuesday afternoon after a trip they had taken to Nauvoo.  Tyler answered and I gave him a hard time about this new girl, as I couldn't discuss the hurt but could make fun of him for his new found friend.  As wise as I thought I was at 16 the 15 year old on the other end of the line was wiser, "Kasi, we're still Kas and Ty.  (Insert 'new girls' name) doesn't know me like you do and she bugs me, a lot." That was all I needed. Rob echoed those sentiments in an email a week later and the tears stopped.  They were still 'mine'.

I have my Petes (yep, I have two ... it fits each for the same reasons), Ace, Binx ect ect ect.  These are my 'persons' now ... the ones that I count on for confidence boosting, logic finding, and conversations that range from nail color to hopes and dreams.  I love them, platonically.  But in my mind I'm the 'creme brulle' and watching them find their 'jello' makes me nuts, batty.  I'm happy for them ... truly.  I am so truly, deeply happy for them ... but there are moments when that happiness is shadowed by the 'psychotic jealousy' and I just want things to stay exactly as they are, at my house in Salt Lake.

Remember that episode of Full House when Uncle Jesse moves out?  You know the one I'm talking about ... the one where Michelle gives him her stuffed animal and he stops in the door frame, back to the youngster, and a tear falls from his face. Still tugs at those heart strings?  Yep.  Well, the parent's are going on mission.  The sister is moving out and getting married.  Buba is moving back east to do the grad school thing.  Bells is going to Russia for 18 months. And there are moments I feel like Michelle.

But the adventure of life is just that ... the constant change that comes from choices.  It's an adventure! It's constantly changing! I know my thoughts are scattered today, sorry for that. I truly am happy in my life, I love my life ... truly. {I just got back from Hawaii and am headed to AZ ... tan and happy!}  I have a crush on a kid that keeps me smiling most days and am in love with my job.  I have the greatest family a gal could ask for.  I have the most diverse and entertaining friends on the planet.  I'm just in the middle of all of the emotions right now, my favorite thing on the planet ... emotions.  But I know in a minute, truly, I'll be laughing and dancing ... rejoicing in my own happiness and the happiness of all of my 'persons'.  I'm just asking for that minute, yep.

"Remember though - she dances at the end of the movie, smiling."

Intimate Morsels

Several months ago, at least five but perhaps six, I was having a conversation with Doc (new and much more appropriately named Doc, not old Doc ~ double meaning fulling intended).  I don't remember the specifics.  What I do remember is this phrase that came from him, "Kasi, we all have the ability to change."

I've thought a lot about that ... a lot ...

Change, like humility, can be brought upon you due to the circumstances that life brings.

HP realigns territories and rather than covering the whole eastern seaside I am now only managing partners in Eastern PA.  It's a bad year for strawberries and so my smoothy tradition is void.  It is neither here nor there, it just is.

Change, like humility, can be brought upon you because of an other's choices or circumstances and the natural consequences of said choice.

Sister decides to fall in love and get married, I need to find a new roommate and/or living situation.  Uncle decides to go to war, I loose sleep for a great long time.   S&B move to Texas, my route east becomes air only. It is neither here nor there, it just is. 

Change, like humility, can come because one chooses to make said change for the 'greater good'.  I have fought this last statement for the greater part of 28 years.

As a child I would scream at the top of my lungs at Grams, "I can't do that, it's not me! I'm not that girl! I'm too much like my mom!" As an adolescent I had the same argument (perhaps with more dramatic flare) with Grams but also with Abby, McKenzie, Bobby, and Adam.  "I can't be anything less than this nor anything more, I just can't." Thought of other's feelings and tact, logical and fair arguments ... all were lost on me.  My feet were planted in the certainty that I couldn't change the core part of me.  I don't think it would be fair to me or to Matt to count the number of times we had the same 'discussion' ~ him attempting to convince me that growth was not only a knowledge 'thing' but a change of heart.  The stubborn portion of me came shining through during those attempts.  I think one of the reasons my collective 'CA' win my heart so often is because they have realized, all at different moments, that "Kasi is, at the core, not 'that girl' nor does she want to be 'that girl' so I let her be." (I secretly think each of them just has a greater patience with my learning curve than the rest of the humans in my life and understood all along that I would get 'there') The parentals/Grandparentals/Uncles/Aunts have all performed their due diligence to try to get me to understand this 'change' that we bring into our own lives, I listened as it was respectful to do so but I do not think I ever once heard them.  But this is here, it is with my hands to alter.  It is not there, out of my control.

I've been talking with the Heavens with a bit more sincerity these last four months, more candor but also with a heart open to hear the response and to act upon said response.  As it would turn out, change can be self-induced.  As it would turn out, thoughts and opinions can change (inhale Papa, I still fall to the left and will not be found on a Beck Cruise anytime soon).  As it would turn out, not everything needs to be vocalized.  As it would turn out, there is a part of me that is 'that girl' and I'm working to embrace that.  As it would turn out, I know very little.  As it would turn out, there are pages and pages of my story that I can alter as I move forward because I can change the leading character.  I can change and this change is cultivated in my knowledge of truth, in my hope dwelling in a faith in Someone much greater than I.

And so as I kneel at night, as I study in the morning, as I vocalize during the day I see the 'intimate morsels' that create me, that I have clung to with dying breath for so long, alter and change.  Others, even the closest of friends, may not see it but He can and He helps as I continue in my efforts.  The purpose of life, no matter Who you pray to or what you ask for help, is to be a person of substance and to offer that substance back to the world.  I get to alter my substance.  What an adventure it is!  I'll stop kicking and screaming now.

Sober vs. Medicated

For the benefit of ... me ... please read carefully and refer to this post to help you identify when I am not 'me'.  Usually it can be tied to a kidney stone, broken back, or any other state of being that lends to Kasi on any medication stronger than Advil.  Please take the phone from me, keep me home, and perhaps don't let others come to the home if any of the below 'medicated' signs are showing.


Signs of a sober Kasi vs. Medicated Kasi
Sober Kasi will not willingly discuss her love life with her family, her friends, or her friend's friends.
Medicated Kasi will openly discuss all details about her love life with any one with a pulse.
Sober Kasi will not be petted by anyone.
Medicated Kasi will sit there with wonderment on her face as she is unsure as to what is happening as she her head of hair is petted as a pup.
Sober Kasi will not allow Matt to manipulate her and is confident as to who she calls her 'best friend'.
Medicated Kasi feels guilt within a second and a half of manipulation and placates him with a 'version' of best friendship.
Sober Kasi sits like a lady as she discusses things.
Medicated Kasi throws up her leg and holds it as a seated ballerina during story time.
Sober Kasi tends to stick to her high road.
Medicated Kasi is far more willing to join others on their roads.
Sober Kasi has boundaries.
Medicated Kasi knows no bounds.
Sober Kasi agrees to date her Bishop's son, he's a Bulls fan I hear.
Medicated Kasi agreed to this first.
Sober Kasi does not like to talk to Doc about certain humans.
Medicated Kasi is willing to hear stories about said human and be supportive.
Sober Kasi does not get hurt when comfort is sought while sleeping.
Medicated Kasi will get up from a warm bed and go cuddle with New Pete, leaving Ace in a cold bed to feel neglected.

I'm hoping for all of our sake that I stay Sober Kasi for the next little while, although ... as of this moment, that is not looking like an option.