Hard

Most of the time it’s okay, but some days, things get hard. Days like today. 

It’s hard to not get the only thing you ever really wanted for the better part of a decade. It’s hard to trust that God loves you and wants you to be happy when He seems to give everyone around you the very thing you yearn for, yet deny you. It’s hard when you've spent your life trying to do all the things you’re supposed to. Trying to do everything right, and still, nothing. 

And it’s hard when, every now and again there’s a little dangle of hope, a little light, that’s then crushed. And it’s even harder when you’re the one who has to crush it, because it’s not the best kind of light for you. And it’s hard to stay positive. 

Hard to find new, different, divergent goals. Plan B. Which isn't a bad plan, it’s just not the ideal, not what you dream of. It’s plan b. It's hard to invest in plan b when it's not what you really ever wanted. It’s hard to smile and tell everyone how great plan b is. And it’s really hard to smile and be nice when people ask about plan a. 

And faith is hard, and trust is hard. It’s all just hard.

But since I don’t have a choice, I will do hard things.

Dear Boys! Pt. 3

Dear boys,

You don't make it easy for us girls. One minute we decide that we aren't in to you. Then the next minute, you super nicely ask how we're doing. Then when we're sick, you check on us via text twice, THEN decide to bring us soup AND ice cream, even when we told you we were fine. Then we start to have warm, fuzzy feelings about you... UGH! I'm benching this till after Christmas.

Love,

Emily


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Dear NM boy,

I really am glad we're friends. I like the sibling-like banter we have going on. Sometimes though, I wonder if you're interested in more than I am. You're a nice kid, and I could get past a lot of things... but I just don't want to stay in NM forever.

Love,

Emily


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Dear Soup Boy,

You ruined my vocal rest... But thanks for the soup and ice cream. I super appreciate it. Also I was super impressed that you initiated the thank you letter/present for our Thanksgiving hostess. You're a good egg.

Love,

Emily


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Dear Confused Boy,

I hope it wasn't out of line for me to hand you the talk on, marriage. It just seems that you have some serious decisions to make in the next few weeks and you're gonna need all the help you can get.

Love,

Emily

PS: If you DO get engaged (which I don't, for both your sakes)... can we still be friends? I don't really know how that works.

Remembering

I wrote this on a bad day a while back. I've been thinking about it and figured it would be appropriate to share. I don't typically do poetry, it's just how it came out. And they're my perceptions, my feelings, even if it's a 'we' pronoun. 



It's been almost a year since my brother ended his life. 
Twelve terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad months. 
Not terrible every moment of every day; 
but it's always there, 
the elephant in the room, 
the empty spot on the couch,
the thing we only talk about sometimes because it hurts. 

With others we talk about it casually, 
pretending that if we are casual,
it won't be so shocking, 
it won't be so foreign (still), 
it won't hurt so much. 
But it does.

We call on the 1st day of the months (the day it happened),
wondering how everyone is doing,
sometimes not even mentioning his name. 
But we lie. 
We all lie. 

And with each other, 
we speak of it in hushed tones. 
Attempting to soften the raw edges with our soft voices. 
And failing.

We try to get together. 
We hold the baby boy he never will. 
We tell his daughters stories about when their daddy was young, 
trying to infuse our memories of a man they may not remember.
And we cry. 

We cry together and alone.
We cry in our beds and on our knees.
We cry in the car, 
yelling at the world for the injustice.

Most of us cry in church. 
We hold hands when we're together, 
hymnals blurring through our teary eyes. 
Our voices silent.

And we try to move on. 
Right-foot, left-foot, right-foot, left-foot.
We go to work, start college, move across the country for graduate school,
We have babies, go on business trips, go to summer camp. 
We try to live again.
And we do better for a while.

Then comes the remembering.
And it ruins everything.

Showers

Fact: when I grow up I am going to have a shower with at least 5 shower heads... I'm currently house sitting for one of my professors and I am IN LOVE. She has 7 shower heads in her shower ROOM-- I swear, the shower is bigger than my whole bathroom!

The problem is that she also has a tub with jets. So I have to choose between showers and baths.
Tonight:

Bath. Then if my hair is bad I can just take a shower in the morning... I'm going to get used to this and be so sad going back to my boring normal tub/shower.

Vague

So... I'm in the middle of a scheme... (because I need a good intrigue in my life...)



But the thing is... I'm not good at the planning. I started planning on Step 1 (after it happened) and then Step 2 happened, so I named it step 2. Then I actually came up with step 3 on my own, and I'm not good at waiting. I'm pretty good at going for what I want, so this whole waiting thing isn't really my thing.

And... that's all I have to say about that.

Reality; served two ways.

The first day of the past 11 months has been hard for me. Every time the calendar flips its page, I remember (not like I could forget)  that things are different now. And it's not even the things that are different. I am different. We are different. Yes, some things are okay (different okay, but okay none the less) but some things will never be okay.

Yesterday I had just gotten out of the shower, I had the radio on in the background, and I was just thinking about things, and I had a terrible shock of reality. See, each first, for the last 11 months, I have almost counted down to the year mark, like it was some magical number. Somehow, subconsciously, I put a year being the moment that everything would be alright. Like after a year, everything would be okay again, back to normal, the way it used to be. After a year, it won't hurt so bad. After a year it won't be such a big thing. But yesterday, I realized that there was nothing special about that year mark. All it's going to be is the start of a new counting system. First it was hours, then days, followed by weeks, then months, and soon, all too soon, the count will be in how many years since James was here with us. And I hate that. I hate that it feels like he is so far away.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said that that which we persist in doing becomes easier, not that that task itself has changed, but that our ability to do it has increased. I think grief is like that. The pain doesn't stab any more, just aches. In the days just after James' death, I remember running away to the apartment and Dad coming over and sitting on the futon and just crying because the hole that was so real and so present inside of me was too big, and too dark and the edges were too jagged for me to ever survive it. But somehow, over time, that hole hasn't shrunk, but the edges have become smoother. The darkness not as all encompassing. I've become better equipped to deal with it. The hole isn't what I see all the time any more. But it's still there.

Last month, one of the Seventy gave a beautiful talk in General Conference about the loss of his son. He said:

Tyson has remained a very integral part of our family. Through the years it has been wonderful to see the mercy and kindness of a loving Father in Heaven, who has allowed our family to feel in very tangible ways the influence of Tyson. I testify that the veil is thin. The same feelings of loyalty, love, and family unity don’t end as our loved ones pass to the other side; instead, those feelings are intensified.
Sometimes people will ask, “How long did it take you to get over it?” The truth is, you will never completely get over it until you are together once again with your departed loved ones. I will never have a fullness of joy until we are reunited in the morning of the First Resurrection.

He concludes with my favorite quote from Preach My Gospel (the missionary guide) The last sentence of which currently resides on my wall. 

 “as we rely on the Atonement of Jesus Christ, He can help us endure our trials, sicknesses, and pain. We can be filled with joy, peace, and consolation. All that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”

I know that this is reality. God keeps his promises, and we are promised a fullness of joy. If not here, then after, when we are reunited, when our tears are wiped away, when all is made right.

Dear Boys, pt 2

Dear only boy over 23 in my ward,

It is NOT THAT HARD to work the fact that you have a girlfriend into our conversations. ESPECIALLY when you're introducing me to her. And ESPECIALLY when she's come all the way from Utah to middle of nowhere Portales to see you. Also, it'd be nice if you'd hold her hand.

If you were my boyfriend (which you'll never be), I would be so mad at you right now.

Love,

Boys ought to just wear a sign.

------------------------------------------

Dear Truck Driver Boy,

I'm sorry. but from the moment I met you, I friend zoned you. I couldn't help it. It's just never gonna happen.

Love (in a friendly sort of way...)

Emily

-----------------------------------------

Dear 20 year old boy,

It's too bad you're only 20, or it's too bad I'm older than that, because if you were say... 24, I would totally date you.

Love (let's be friends),

Not a cougar.

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Dear Boy who broke my heart two years ago,

Good thing we didn't get married... I'm a Zimmerman, and I can't have babies that aren't adorable... and I'm a jerk, but your baby just isn't that cute.

Yup- I'm a jerk.

Love,

Bullet Dodged

The best 15 minutes of my day

Today the sister missionaries came over to visit me. (They're pretty much my BFF's these days...) They, and I are busy tomorrow, (for international chocolate cupcake day), and so I had them come get their cupcakes today. Anyway... Sister Peterson (who I <3 and="and" attribute="attribute" can="can" evening.="evening." happier="happier" honestly="honestly" i="i" less="less" my="my" nbsp="nbsp" p="p" probably="probably" said="said" seemed="seemed" stressed="stressed" that="that" to="to" today="today">
See, today I was stressed. School is rough, I have a lot on my mind, etc. etc. etc. But the most frustring part about today was that despite being in bed at 10:30 last night, I tossed and turned for probably two hours. During that time I had to be on vocal rest and fasting because I helped a girl with her voice study this morning before class. To top it all off, the stress in my shoulders/upper back had all compounded and I had a killer migraine that Excedrin just barely took the edge off of. I realized I have got to figure out how to stop carrying all my stress in my shoulders or something because I felt like I wanted to die a little.

So on my way out of institute, I stopped one of the guys who lives in town who is a sports medicine trainer (?) or something like that. But he has a background in Massage Therapy. I asked him what I could do to stop the stress build up in my shoulders, and he sat me down in a chair and got rid of it for me with some super painful pressure points and some stretching. NEW BEST FRIEND. The harder he pinched my muscles, the less my head hurt. Miracle of Miracles! Typically it would probably be weird to have a fairly strange (as in unknown) guy in my ward invade my bubble, but oh my gosh. I feel so much better. Also, he's a really nice guy, just moved here for a job from Utah... He told me to stretch and ice and hit him up every now and again and he'd take care of it for me.

He's definitely on the list for a chocolate cupcake tomorrow. :)

Champion

Tomorrow the first draft of my major research project (read: thesis) proposal and literature review is due. Needless to say there is a vast stressful feeling buzzing around the Speechies at this point in time. Facebook is filled with pictures like this:

and statuses like this:

"The lit review is due tomorrow by 5!!! just got the email back from swift :)"

and this:

"Still doing homework yet I have the original Friday the 13th on in the background, can anyone name the original killer in the first movie"

and this:

" I usually do things in order but I can't stand thinking about swifts material anymore for today"

But my favorite is the following:

It's on my wall now, and I'm ready to be a champion! (Tomorrow... after I finish this lit review... ugh!)

Grad. School. Fail.

The good news: I did better on this quiz than on my last one by 60 points!
The bad news: I didn't realize the last quiz was due on Monday.
gahhhhhh
(in my defense, our quizzes are ALWAYS due Wednesdays, but that one was due on a Monday. It was a surprise attack).

Gradscgiik us bit fyb,,,

**Grad school is not fun** (that's what was supposed to be typed, but I am exhausted, and bugged by life.)
But look at this

i kind of love his face... try not to laugh... via dog-shaming.com... LOVE IT!

Eight (ish) reasons my life in New Mexico is pretty awesome

I've failed a lot on the whole blogging thing lately but for the record I've been busy. Let me tell you 8 things about my life now.

1: You already know this, but when I'm home, I often don't wear pants. It's genetic. Don't judge. (Luckily,, the land lord came and fixed my blinds so they go down all the way now.)

2) I finally got a bed. I've been rocking the air mattress for WAY too long. My body loves me now.

2.5) I bought a desk for $5 at my favorite consignment shop (yes, you read that right, $5!) but it was ugly =(, so I fixed that! Here's the before (the green is tape, not the desk... fyi) (also, check out my cute ikea curtains in the back)

 And here it is finished! So cute, right? You wish you could study at a cute desk like this, don't you? Don't you? (I've got knobs that just need painting waiting for me to have time to pull out the paint and get-er done!)

 2.67) And this: is a shrine to the babies... (and by babies I mean nieces and nephews) (and yes.. there are 5 pictures of William, and 5 pictures of Amelia, Lucy and David all together... sue me, I had so many of William to choose from!) Someday I'll probably paint the clothespins... or at least stain them.

 2.75) Also at the consignment store (for $2!) I bought this sweet spice shelf to hang above my stove. It's pretty awesome, and will be awesome-r when I get around to painting it... someday. But I'm pretty happy with it for now.

3) I got a rocker-recliner for $20! Let me tell you, I have become a frequent of the local consignment store. (seriously, I LOVE IT!) and The rocker/recliner was originally $40, but was marked down 50%. I called my friend Dara and she brought her mini van and we loaded it in the back and the rocker is my BFF. Seriously. Every grad-student should have one. I didn't take a picture of it, but trust me. It's awesome.

4) Let's talk for a minute about weather. Most days it is HOT, like burn your hands on the steering wheel hot. But then sometimes, usually about 3 in the afternoon there are these crazy rainstorms. They have thunder and lightening, and sometimes hail, but LOTS of rain, quick. And this weird things happens that I've not really seen before to this degree. Drainage is crazy bad and there ends up being rivers through the streets (luckily not through houses, or rather, not through my house.)

Note: This is not my car, but I did call my dad and ask him what the deepest water I ought to drive through.  This isn't far from my cute little duplex.

5) Okay, these are all accessories to my prime directive for being here.

Enter: Lampy from Brave Little Toaster

My prime directive is to study/learn. I'm not here because I want to make friends or, heaven forbid, settle down here. My classes are pretty great. I'm glad I have enough background from my undergrad that I don't feel totally out of my depth. The teachers are all pretty great and know a whole lot. We're jumping right in, and I've been seeing clients, and we're starting our culminating research project, which is basically the equivalent of a thesis. There's no slowly wading into the shallow end down here, it's all about jumping in with both feet and sink or swim. And I'm swimming, Dory style.

 

6) Clinicals: I'd been in Grad School for ONE WEEK when they made clinical assignments. And poof! I'm put in front of real people! I've been assigned (abnormally) to an elementary school in Clovis (the town 20 miles north that has things like a mall, a good will, and a big lots.) The school is a private one that hasn't previously had services at all, so we are starting from the ground up. (We= two other student clinicians and one of our professors.) We're screening right now, which means we do a short test with every Pre-K, Kindergartner, First Grader and Second Grader. We started with the kids that the teachers thought needed services, but now we're doing general screening. 

This is pretty much what I look like. 

The test we're doing is called the FLUHARTY screener, and it involves me sitting in a chair that is made for 4 year olds (giving a terrible case of numb-bum) and asking the children to tell me what this is a picture of 

These are actual picture I show kids. 

Then I make them repeat sentences I say like : "My new dog has spots" and tell me how to wash their hands (checking for their ability to sequence things...). I ask them to tell me about their family and how they got there today (to check their receptive and expressive language-- do they understand and know how to respond to questions?) It's interesting because we just assume that kids can do these things, but it's interesting to see that some can't! Pretty much I'm the best screener that there is (mostly because I don't have any experience doing anything else.) 

6.5) I get to go to Idaho next summer to do a research project... on my family. Which is pretty sweet, right? I got Grandma's buy in... now I've just got to get the rest of them to agree to it... Maybe I"ll make delicious things-- see #7-- and bribe them...

7) I'm eating pretty delicious things... Snickerdoodle bars, pumpkin cinnamon rolls, no-bake cookies, molten chocolate cake, crock pot broccoli and beef, crock pot roast, crock pot honey chicken, smoked salmon and cream cheese omelets (YUM!) Frittata muffins are next on my list of 'fun things to bake' so I can have grab and go breakfasts. Also-- the list I came up with seems rather... not healthy. I should note that I take fruits and veggies to school with me every day. I eat less of these cookies/sweets than you think I do (I had the no-bakes go bad because I just never ate them after the first day-- not doing that again). I'm working on balance, and giving up my dr pepper habit. It's a bad one.

8) I have no time to blog-- this blog has been in progress for probably 10 days. I set this awesome timer on my google chrome and I have a limited amount of time on time wasting websites each day so I can focus on school. I think it's pretty awesome.

Speaking of which, my time is up.

Pants: why you ought to wear them, or at least keep a pair handy.

So... this funny thing happened. I moved to New Mexico for Grad School (yay!) and I got my own apartment. My VERY OWN apartment. No roommates at all. Just me. And a strange thing happened.

I stopped wearing pants.

No, I still wear pants to school, work, wal*mart, etc. I just don't like to wear them at home, if I can help it. Don't worry-- I put up curtains, and keep my blinds closed. I'm not an exhibitionist. It's just... a genetic thing-- ask my dad.

And it is a great thing, I'm a big fan. (also note that NM is HOT-- and it means I can keep the AC at a higher setting, thus reducint my bills). Except for when the unexpected happens. Like someone knocking on your door at 8:45 at night. And you have no pants on.

This has happened TWICE in the past week. Once it was a pizza delivery guy, not delivering a pizza to me (he had the wrong house) and the second time it was the sister missionaries.

Luckily, I had a pair of shorts convenient for throwing on while I yelled through the door to find out who it was (a peep hole is on the list of things for my landlord to do for me).

The moral of this story is-- if you don't want to wear pants around the house, and I'm not planning on it, at least keep an emergency pair near the door, just in case.

That's all.

Top Three Ways I am Turning into my Grandmother

I love my Grandma Z. so, so much. She was the best grandma who lived next door a girl could ask for. As time goes on I find myself doing little things that she used to do. It's a little weird, seeing as I'm not quite the 81 years she would be if she were alive today. She was a quiet, classy woman who wasn't afraid to do hard things (like kill the mouse we found in the house when my parents were gone-- I'm not there yet.)

Without Further Ado... 

3: I find myself licking my fingers and using them to pick up the single piece of fuzz from the floor. I remember her doing this all of my childhood. 

2: Bathrobe Time. I get home from work and it is "bathrobe time". Okay, so I don't actually own a bathrobe but I do come home and put on my jammies almost immediately (unless there is some compelling reason not to). Even when I am with friends, sometimes, my PJ's start calling my name! It's just 'bathrobe time.' Time for me to go home and wind down. This time has become more and more necessary.

and the number one way I am turning into my grandmother is.....

1: KLEENEXES. Grandma always had a Kleenex on her. Usually it was stuffed in the wrist of her sweatshirt (which I do in the winter) but in the summer, when short sleeves abound, there's only one place for a Kleenex. Not in my pockets (of course not), but in my auxiliary pocket. Needless to say, I usually forget about these Kleenexes and find them when it's bathrobe time! But in the mean time they provide a little extra something something... 

That awkward moment...

When you 've just taken off your pants in the comfort of your own house and your roommate's boyfriend knocks on the door...

On the bright side I got to hang out with these guys today!

The S word.

Today I saw my future...

     

I worked grown up hours (8-5),
came home from work, 
did homework for several hours (ie: took an exam) and then.... (this is where it gets sad)


I ate a hot pocket 

and ice cream out of the carton with a fork while watching TLC's Say Yes to the Dress (the original).




Watch out. 


The cats are coming next. 

Pretty soon I'll start thinking like this:

And then... I'll feel lonely and this might happen:

I'm turning into a spinster.  Albeit an awesome one, if I do say so myself.

It's just really too bad I don't like cats.


(note: for my parent's sake-- my evening only went like this till 9:00 when I went outside in my apartment complex and watched a movie with a large group of people, then stayed out talking to people till after midnight. I was social... It's just that in a few weeks here, I won't have any friends within 400 miles of me. That's all.)

Dear Boys

My friend/coworker introduced me to this blog and said "I think you could write some good ones" So, while avoiding my homework (don't worry Mom, I've been good, I gave myself a 3:30 deadline for starting it today) I decided to see if I could write a few of them, just for kicks.


Dear Boy with Girlfriend,
Why would it be okay for us to go out because 
I'm more attractive and better marriage potential
than your girlfriend but not available for two more years?
Please lose my number, 
Not gonna be that girl, ever.


Dear Colorado Boy,
I'm sorry things ended so abruptly. But, from a distance 
I can see it was really a good thing for me. Sorry, I just don't want Jello.
Love, 
Looking for Creme brulee


Dear First Kiss,
Thanks for making it a good story. Too bad you were such a tool. 
But then again you apologized (7 yrs later). No hard feelings, a'ight?
Love, 
Not VL any more


Dear HS Crush,
Ugh. You lit a firework off of your head! That should have been my sign. 
All the best (seriously, you'll need it), 
Emily



Dear Magician,
No I don't want to experience your magic, I also don't want to 
discuss underwear with you. Telling me about how my
roommate turned you down is not a turn on.
Love, 
Glad my disappearing act has worked since I returned to Provo


Dear Missionary,
I hate to break it to you, but 5'4" is well below my height requirement.
I don't want to spend my life as an amazon.
Love, 
Fleeing the state before your return.


Dear boy at work,
I appreciate the presence of some masculinity in our office.
Love, 
The night time receptionist.


Dear Ward Prom Date,
Sorry I made it awkward. I think you're great.
Love,
Emily

Dear Mall lotion salesman,
Your "Helllllo" made my day the other day. But no,
I don't want your lotion.
Love,
Looking pretty darn good

And that's what I've got for today.

food for thought...

 I saw a sign the other day that said

"How someone treats you says more about them than it does about you."

Have a think about that!

Also, I am in love with these cookies-- 99 cents can buy a lot of happiness...

 



Angel's Landing and the Narrows.

Sometimes... maybe when I'm having slow times, or rough times I like to have a list to help me get things done. Sometimes I put things on the list that I will definitely do in the day-- get out of bed, shower, etc. And sometimes I add things on the list after I've done them, because I think they would have been a great addition to the list.

I kind of have an unofficial bucket list of adventurous things that I need to do before I get old? Die? 'Settle down'? There's not really a time limit on the list, but I pretty much add things to it at will. Checked off the list has been running the half marathon, skydiving, driving across the country, hiking the Y, halibut fishing, and a few other things.

On Sunday I did something and though it was so great! I decided to add it to the list after I'd done it!

Saturday I left to go down for a long weekend at Zion National Park with some of the people from my ward. Actually, some really awesome people from my ward. I went along as something fun to do, not really realizing what I was in for. They told me we were hiking Angle's Landing on Sunday after church (and boy!, Church was quite the experience in Hurricane, UT-- be sure to pronounce it right "her-uh-kin" oh it was exciting but that's another Story). Saturday night, after a late start we arrived at our campsite around 11, it was probably the farthest thing to the middle of nowhere I've ever been. It was a good thing we had jeeps, it brought a whole new meaning to the word 'off roading' for me. I think it might be a thing that mostly the driver enjoys...

So we slept on the ground (camping, the joy of waking up cold!) had breakfast, went to church and then changed and headed out to go hiking. I wasn't sure what I was in for... I heard snippits- "2 1/2 miles" (ok, that's do-able), "afraid of heights" (I'm alright so long as things aren't shaking), "beautiful views" (I like beautiful views). As we ride the tram through the park I hear bits of the pre-recorded information like "strenuous" and "evaulate the abilities" and "bring lots of water" I started getting nervous, but it was too late to back out. So up the Mountain we went!

It was such a cool hike! I think that that part of the country is so beautifully different than anywhere else! That last bit, where you hike/climb... it was crazy! At the end you had to use a chain to get up. It wasn't super scary, just nerve wracking... Here's a picture of Ben doing it:

And when we finally made it to the top it was GORGEOUS!! Here's a picture of our awesome group:
From left to right: David, Me, Lauren, Sean, Nik, Jason, Jana, Sara, Celeste, Josh and Ben (hiding in the back)

It was beautiful! Here's a view from the top (that I did not take)

source
 

After the descent that made me realize exactly how steep the hike up was. The rest of the group decided that another hike was a great idea! (Crazies! I was ready for a nap!!)

But a one mile short hike was something I could do. So we went to the Lower Emerald Pool-- which wasn't emerald at all-- it was brown. Like this:

We entertained our bus driver and fellow passengers by singing songs on the way back to our cars. Most of them had Na-na-na's in them Hey Jude style...It was great! I think I slept the best on Sunday night than I have in a LONG LONG time! It's amazing what physical exhaustion will do for a good night's sleep!

On Monday we were in for more hiking! Again with the snippets! We decided to hike "The Narrows." And pretty much what I knew about the narrows was that my feet were going to get wet. MY FEET!!!

That's me... TRUDGING up a riger... against the current. Up to my knees (sometimes my waist). It was GREAT! SO beautiful! Such a nice day, not too hot, not too cold. Wet feet weren't such a terrible thing... It was actually really great. 

So so so fun! I'm so glad I went. 

And Now I can (add and) check hiking Angel's Landing and the Narrows off the bucket list!!

A weird thing.

My roommate is a special education teacher. She often tells her students "That's a weird thing" when they do it. Today, I got an email and couldn't help but think "That's a weird thing"

The email:

Emily,

   How the heck are you?
SO.... Do you want to come hear my homecoming talk on the 26th of Agosto? Moreover, do you want to come on the 25th and play soccer in a nearby park with some other friends at like 2:00, and have we'll all have dinner at like 5:00, and then we'll play boardgames or watch a movie or something, and then we'll all sleep in sleeping bags on the floor or something, and then we'll all get up bright and early and put things in order so my dear mother doesn't have to, and then we'll all go to church at 8:30, and we'll have spiritual good times, and then we'll all come home and eat food again. What do you think?

You may be thinking, oh that's nice that Emily still has friends young enough to be on missions... FALSE. I mean, it is nice... I suppose... anyway. Here are the reasons I think this is a weird thing:


A: You are a missionary! Why are you having a co-ed sleepover! (and your mother approves of this nonsense?!?) You will have been home for all of 2 days-- why the heck would you think that a co-ed sleepover is a good idea!? It's never a good idea.
a.1: When have I ever played soccer, since I was forced to in High School PE... NEVER.

2: This is from the little brother of my ex boyfriend. Chances are fairly high that the brother and his wife are going to be there---- I know it's been 2 years, but I don't want to be friends with them. I don't want to be nice to them. I don't want to see them. Pardon my frankness, but I'm just not sure I would swerve/brake if he walked infront of my car...

III: One of the reasons I haven't written this elder in a while is that he started saying things like "I hope you're around when I get back"and other things that made me wonder if he was more interested than in just a friendly way. I really like this kid, and with the exception of his brother, I love his family (so, so much) but I don't think there is much of anything in me that could induce me to date him.

D: I'm going to grad school before he comes home, so it's all a moot point anyway. I can't go.

To 16 year old me: You're going to be okay.

Dear Emily,

Hello from 10 years down the road. (10 years!!!) I won't tell you where you end up-- that's part of living, but I'll just tell you, it's more and better (but yes, different) than you expected or think you want).You are just at the beginning of your (mis)adventures. Things are going to be very, very good. In fact, things are going to be mostly good. And then there are going to be times that make you wonder if you will get through them. The thing is, Em, You will! You are a tough cookie, and these experiences will make you even tougher. You get the tough spots because you can hack it!

Here's a little secret I've learned recently. You're going to be okay. Everything will be okay, but sometimes the definition of okay is just going to have to change. When the worst thing imaginable happens (and I'm so sorry dear, I wish something I could say would change it, but the worst will happen), it's going to take you a few months to even feel like you might be beginning to be alright, but then things'll happen and you'll sit and sob wondering if you'll ever really be okay. And the truth is, you won't. Things are never going to be okay the way they were before. Things will never go back. But "okay will change". Okay will take on new meaning, and if okay means getting out of bed, putting on a bra and going on with 'normal' life, you will be that. If okay means waking up dry-heaving for months but still working and graduating despite it, or if it means tossing your cookies in front of your class then finishing your presentation. you're okay!

Em, when you go to college a bishop is going to give you some really good advice-- actually, you're going to hear it from two different bishops in two different wards in two different eras of your life at college-- TAKE IT! Both Bishop Fleming and Bishop (can't remember his name) said, over the pulpit: "Don't take yourself too [darn] seriously." Pay attention. Have more fun. We're pretty good these days at taking risks, and at going for what we want. Keep doing that!

There are going to be so many people who love you. So many people in your life who will help you become who you are. Let them help. Don't be too proud to ask for help-- whenever you need it.  And while you're letting people... Don't go through the phase when you're hard on your parents. They're NOT lying when they tell you they want what's best for you. They really are motivated by love. And yes, Dad is ALWAYS going to be right... just trust him and embrace it. Love your family. Just love them and spend as much time with them as possible. This fall when James leaves on his mission and you think that your family will never be the same, you have NO idea how accurate that is. Be grateful for the time you have together. Don't be petty, don't be uptight. Just love them.


You are awesome-- realize it sooner. And don't forget it.

Love,

Emily

Registered!

This is me: registered for classes for the fall!!! ^ (one is missing, but it's a closed course that I'll have to add later). Notice something beautiful? Under the day's column, there's no Monday!!(It may be filled with work in the clinic, but no classes in that slot yet!)

In other news, some of you may have seen my facebook post about getting a graduate assistantship at ENMU. Here's the Miracle of it all:

I DIDN'T APPLY FOR THAT JOB. When I initially applied for grad school, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go. I wrote a decent essay, filled out the application, didn't have anyone proof read anything, stuck it in an envelope and sent it off to New Mexico. It was after I sent it that I decided that I really did want to go to grad school! (Give me a little slack, it was a confusing time in my life...).

So on Friday, when the graduate program director called and offered me the Assistantship I was flabbergasted, and I knew as well as I've known anything, that God gave me that job. The assistantship won't be a lot of work, 10 hours/week. And it doesn't pay a whole lot of money, $5400 a year. But the huge perk is that it gives me in-state tuition. I was actually planning on spending a semester working really hard, then applying for one of these jobs. This will cut my tuition debt down to almost 1/3 of what out of state tuition would be. I'd been worried about money and if I would have to take out private loans to live off of. But thanks to this job, I'll be good for at least the first year.  

Now, you may wonder, as I do, what a Graduate Assistantship actually means. So I searched the school's website and found the following description:

I'm getting so excited to move forward in my life. I feel like this time in Utah has been so good for me to take time to heal, to be with the people I love and to work in a positive environment. But I'm ready to keep going. I'm ready to get some letters after my name. In 3 years-- after 2 of school and one Clinical Fellowship Year, it'll say Emily Zimmerman MS CCC-SLP. It looks pretty professional, right? I'd trust me with your speech.

A Hot Mess

Today I read a blog all about getting rid of labels. I've been meaning to write more on this blog... I just never seem to have anything to blog about that But I decided to jump on the weekly writing prompt bandwagon.
Here's the prompt: "We’re inviting posts from voices everywhere to share your labels and who you are beyond that. The focus is whatever you need it to be– from our lives as moms, dads, parents, spouses, professionals, survivors, athletes and more. We invite you to join us, to celebrate our strengths, to celebrate our diversity, to celebrate our      voices and change the conversation."

Lately, I think the label I put on myself is that of being a Mess. I feel like I'm a mess. I pull it off most of the time. I go to work, I serve in the church, I even cook once or twice a month, I shower on a regular basis, On the outside I look like I'm holding it together, and I even have myself I'm convinced I'm ok... most of the time. But then there's a hitch in my day; unexpected things happen and I lose the ability to go with the flow, I stop being able to deal with it all. For just a few minutes (or hours) I feel like the girl who's whole life is a giant mess. As of late, the first things on my long list of everything that is wrong in life (that only really pops up when I'm freaking out) stem from my label as the following:

This one is hard one for me to deal with. I want so badly to be rid of this label, even though on it's own it is just a fact. My brother is gone and it's a fact I have to live with every day. Nothing is going to bring him back, and despite the fact I know I will see him again, and that he is safe and he is ok, the remembering of it makes my heart physically ache. It is what fills my thoughts, changing my perception of who I am and how I think other see me. It's not just those words that bother me. It's the ramifications of them. It's the realizations of what he'll miss, what we'll miss. It's seeing how it's changed me and changed my family. (Not only in bad ways, but in good ways too.) It's all of it neatly summed up in one little label.

But I'm more than the girl who feels like a mess on the inside. (Despite the fact that the outside looks pretty put together most of the time.)

I am the girl who loves her family.

I'm the girl who juggles two jobs.

I am the girl who is on time.

I am the girl who, when she has time, makes amazing food.

I'm the girl who goes grocery shopping for her roommate when she has a giant paper to write.

I am the girl who is capable of conquering just about anything.

I'm the girl who has her father's voice in her head.  

I'm the girl who is proficient in the use of power tools.

I'm the girl who's great at planning.

I am the girl with the best/worst dating stories.

I'm the girl who thrives on change and new adventures (despite the trepidation that comes along)

I'm the girl who knows what she believes, lives it, and relies on it when things go wrong.

I'm the girl who's hilarious when she's on a roll, and who thinks she's hilarious when she's not.

I'm the girl who can't go more than a few days without talking to her mommy.

I'm the girl who can ask for help when she needs it, even though she hates it.

I'm the girl who still sleeps with a teddy bear, who loves her nieces more than anything and still calls her 13 year old sister baby.

I'm Emily. And no matter how hard yesterday was, I am enough. What I can do today is enough, and maybe tomorrow it'll be more, but for now, even with my cried off makeup, bags under my eyes and second day hair, I am enough.

Merciful

Today being Easter has given me cause to pause and reflect on the merciful gift that the Savior gave when he sacrificed his life on the cross and then, miraculously took it up again. I love the following quote by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland pertaining to the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which is the reason for our celebration today. 

“Brothers and sisters, one of the great consolations of this Easter season is that because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so. His solitary journey brought great company for our little version of that path—the merciful care of our Father in Heaven, the unfailing companionship of this Beloved Son, the consummate gift of the Holy Ghost, angels in heaven family members on both sides of the veil, prophets and apostles, teachers, leaders, friends. All of these and more have been given as companions for our mortal journey because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the Restoration of His gospel. Trumpeted from the summit of Calvary is the truth that we will never be left alone nor unaided, even sometimes we may feel that we are. Truly the Redeemer of us all said: “I will not leave you comfortless: [My Father and] I will come to you [and abide with you].” 

I know that the Savior can comfort us. He has comforted me in the times of deepest sorrow, and has walked down lonely paths with me. The words of a hymn have stuck with me all day:

I marvel that he would descend from his throne divine

To rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine

That he should extend his great love unto such as I

Sufficient to own, to redeem and to justify

Today the ward choir sang a verse of the song I don't think I'd ever heard. I LOVED it.

I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me

Secure in the promise of life in his victory

Thus ransomed from death I will live to my Savior's praise

And sing of his goodness and mercy through endless days 

Puppy Love

I have decided I need to have more of a life. (I'm just not sure how that's going to happen.) Because today the most exciting thing in a long time happened to me. And it lasted about 30 seconds.

You see, I was at my morning job, just hanging out at Lowes while my boss decided on what varnish/filler/sealer (??? I'm still not sure exactly what she was looking for) to pick up. I stood, looking at calking guns, wondering how my  life could be any more exciting. Then it happened!

A man began pushing his cart down the center of our aisle. As we were taking up much of the aisle, I moved the cart out of the way and told my boss that someone was coming. I looked at the man and thought he looked pretty familiar. Less than 6', slender, older looking in the face than he first appeared. As he walked past me, the Grandma Janice gene acted up and I couldn't help but stare, trying to place this man. Coincidentally my 'Tracy Zimmerman leave people alone gene' also acted up and I felt guilty for staring. He seemed to look a lot like Donny Osmond. Except, I only had a vague idea of what Donny Osmond looked like. I told my boss "That man looked an awful lot like Donny Osmond..." to which she said "I didn't even look at him."
                                       After he passed I heard a commotion in the next aisle. (Presumably someone asking for an autograph). I sent my best wisconsin friend a text saying "Either I just saw donny osmond at Lowes, or I'm smoking something." She seemed to think I was smoking something.

Until, I got to the check out counter where Lowes was doing one of those donate a dollar and get your name on a shamrock things. The girl was writing 'Cookie Monster' on a shamrock. I asked if she often made up names. Then she read off the list of names on the shamrocks-- "Cookie Monster, Grover, Big Bird, Donny Osmond-- Except that one was really Donny Osmond."

That's right friends. Today I saw a ... legend(?)...In Orem, Utah... At Lowes... In the paint aisle.

You can be jealous now.

Jello

Many years ago I realized that my life was just like Julia Roberts in the movie My Best Friend's Wedding. (Ok, maybe not JUST like... but close). For a while (about a year) I even had one of those "if we're not married when we're 30 let's get married. (He's now engaged, and I'm thrilled for him). This is the conversation that currently I identify with:

Julianne: Only a minor insight, you understand. Maybe Michael couldn't commit to this marriage so he created a delusion, produced an unconscious, psychosomatic manifestation of... I'm better with food. Okay, you're Michael, you're in a fancy french restaurant, you order... creme brulee for dessert, it's beautiful, it's sweet, it's irritatingly perfect. Suddenly, Michael realizes he doesn't want creme brulee, he wants something else.
Kimmy: What does he want?
Julianne: Jello.
Kimmy: Jello?! Why does he want jello?
Julianne: Because he's comfortable with jello, jello makes him... comfortable. I realise, compared to creme brulee it's... jello, but maybe that's what he needs.
Kimmy: I could be jello.
Julianne: No! Creme brulee can never be jello, you could never be jello.
Kimmy: I have to be jello.
Julianne: You're never gonna be jello.

I went on a date the other night with someone I've known most of my life. It was fine. Enjoyable even (and Texas Roadhouse- delicious), but I went home and talked with my roommate about it. Our conversation while sitting on the bathroom counter went something like this: 

Me: it was nice. 

Her: So, do you like him?

Me: Yes, but... no. I mean, I like him, but I'm not interested in dating him. 

Her: Do you think you could ever be interested?

Me: No. He's.... Jello. And I want creme brulee. 

And she knew exactly what I meant (because she is awesome that way).

Essentially in this story, I'm Michael, given the choice of waiting for the Creme Brulee, or going with the Jello that is currently present and pursuing me (this was our third-ish date). Jello is good, but jello is not creme brulee. And I'm a little sad, because Jello boy is nice he is comfortable to be around (in fact this is one of a procession of Jello boys that have been around recently). We surprisingly have a lot in common, and I enjoy spending time with him, but I've got to stop letting him buy me dinner. Because when I comes down to it, I can't date him. I certainly can't marry him. It's just, if I'm going to make that kind of giant step and put my faith in someone like that it's got to be someone good. (Also, I just can't really think about any sort of hand holding, etc... it's too weird. I've known him since we were probably 10 or 11). Someone creme brulee. Or at least delicious jello with the cool whip and the fruit chunks.  

 

And when I someday (soon?) have the guts to tell Jello boy that I 'just want to be friends' or something equally cliche and devastating, this is how I'll feel:

Julianne: I'm... pond scum. Well, lower actually, I'm like the fungus the feeds on pond scum.
Michael: Lower. The pus that infects the mucus, that cruds up the fungus that feeds on the pond scum... 

 

Which is why I probably ought to do it sooner rather than later, so I don't feel quite so pussy/pond scummy. We just couldn't be friends after. Boo.