Feb 26, 2011
(They have now taken up permenant residence on the back of my toilet because everyone thinks they are stinky and they had to be in a confined space. So my bathroom smells oh so... duftend)
I may or may or may not have worn it grocery shopping.
Feb 21, 2011
Well today I discovered something amazing. The ward is about 35 minutes away from my house. It's not in my stake, or even my mission boundaries. I don't speak a lick of Spanish. I am the only white girl in there.
When I tell people my calling, they always give me the strangest looks. I'm used to it. But I guess it is pretty weird. Why me? Of the hundreds of pianists in the area, including in their stake, why was I called?
Last night, Hermana Firpo texted me wondering what songs we were going to sing today in Sacrament. Uumm... Am I supposed to pick those? I opened my Hymn book (which is in Spanish) and randomly picked 4 songs. I just felt like whatever they were, they would be good. I sent her the hymn numbers, and this morning when I got to church and started playing, H. Firpo kept shooting me strange glances. I can't even read Spanish facial expressions, so I would just smile at her then continue playing.
After the meeting, she came up to me and said, "Hermana Camille, you are inspired" Huh? Why? She told me that the topic of the meeting went perfectly with the hymns I had chosen. I had no idea, because I couldn't understand what the meeting was about, but I guess it worked out perfectly. Coincidence? I think not.
Since I can't understand the speakers, I usually take the time to read my scriptures. Latinos are incredibly quiet during Sacrament, so it makes for good studying time. And for the past 3 weeks that I have played the piano for them, amazing things have happened. I always find questions when I'm reading the BOM, and every time I have one, it is answered when I attend my Sacrament meeting a couple hours later.
So when people are confused as to why they called me to play the piano in a completely random ward, I just smile. It's not random. I know who called me.
Feb 19, 2011
I'm not saying I'm a woman... But if I were, this is something I would love to do.
And I did love it.
I then headed to my friendly neighborhood Ikea and Target for supplies.
This is what I came home with, hehe.
(The best part about this is, it's not my house, and not my money. Love you Amy!)
It only took 2 trips to Ikea, 3 trips to Target, and 1 trip to QFC. And a trip to a whole new undiscovered realm of my brain that had never been explored.
Can I go to sleep yet?
Right when I think I can taste sweet, something crappy happens.
Feb 17, 2011
I first heard of SVU about 4 years ago when my family was visiting some of my dad's cousins in Virginia. I was half way through my first year of high school, and if anyone said the word "college" I almost threw up.
Luckily for me, I kept hearing the name of the school in random places. I had a few random friends decide to go. I looked into it. I forgot about it. I heard about it again. I'd decide I was delusional. I forced it out of my head. Till Christmas last year.
Since Christmas, I can't stop thinking about it. I signed up for an open house in March, bought my plane tickets, and have had so many awesome experiences already.
I'm going to Virginia! IN A MONTH!!!!!
The school has 800 students. It's one of the smallest but best ranked Universities in the country. As I fill out my application, my personal Admissions Counselor calls me and tells me what she thinks I should put down, how I should word things, and when my deadlines are. She called me about an hour ago and these were her words. "Hey Camille! I was just looking at one of your essays. It looks great so far. You might want to delete that part about xxx before you send it in. Hey, would you like a T shirt? I just got a box of them. I'll send one to you. Oh, I just talked to Grace, you're going to be staying in her dorm while you're here for the Open House. She's excited to meet you. Would you like to eat on campus while you're here? I'll get you a food card. Can you get your application sent to me before the end of the week? There's a scholarship that just came up that I think would be really good for your situation. I'll get you set up for it. Talk to you soon!"
So if you think I'm crazy for wanting to go to school on the complete opposite side of the country, yes, I am crazy. But it is incredible. So far.
Feb 11, 2011
After writing every night I go through my entry and decide if it's a good one or not. In the end, it doesn't matter what I think of it, I never change it or even look at it again for, ummm sometimes years. Tonight I'm going to share mine with you. (Jayne, I hope you have a defibrulator on hand. Sharing my journal can cause heart attacks.)
Here it goes.
Days are so short with kids. We get up, eat breakfast, leave for the next few hours to school and work, come home, quickly get done with homework, "play", eat dinner, then go to bed. I'm kind of glad I missed out on living short days as a child. I always had long days. Nothing to do except build forts with my siblings and jump on the tramp with the sprinkler. Or go skiing. All day.
I'm also glad that life changes. I'm glad I have more to worry about than if it will be hot enough to run through the sprinkler or cold enough to ski. I'm glad I have responsibilities and things to do. I'm glad I have people to take care of.
I went on a bike ride with Jayne today. The sun was out, I hooked up the trailer to Bella Bestia, and we rode for about... 45 minutes or so. There is never enough time, like I said earlier. Someone has to be picked up or dropped off or fed or cleaned. So 45 minutes was actually pretty impressive, I'm thinkin. There's something about the Burke Gilman trail that just cuts out all my sharp edges in life. I ride along and smell the river and the moist air and look at the tall trees that line the path and take in all the pretty green fields and rolling hills, and.... There's just no way the sharp edges of life can thrive there. Calm conquers.
After dinner we went to the 6th grade play of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. It was cute. And it only lasted 45 minutes, which rocked. We came home and the kids went straight to bed, and I cleaned and got partially caught up on laundry and watched some trash TV. I'm so alone and somehow just not really lonely. At least I don't think I'm lonely. Am I lonely? I would like to have someone, of course, but I don't ache for someone. I like living in peace. Seattle is good for that. There's this giant blanket of melancholy over the whole pacific north west, making everything cozy and leaving nothing perfect.
I need to go to sleep. The washer is going to be done soon, and I want to be asleep before it beeps so I won't be tempted to put in another load.Night!
That was a somewhat edited version... I promise you didn't want to know the rest.
Welp, I'm obviously off my rocker this evening, so... See ya.