87 - Louder than Perfection

I've had a lot of pressure to be perfect in my life. I've always had near impeccable grades, I've excelled at almost everything I put work into, I've always prided myself in my vocabulary and DAZZLING wit (haha), I like to be in positions of leadership, and I hate hurting people's feelings. Having felt the pressure to be perfect, I have only one thing to say about it: it's lonely.

I don't like to often bother people with my problems. So, during the times when I was most trying to keep up the appearance of perfection, I didn't talk to anyone about how incredibly hard it was. I didn't talk to anyone about the times when I would go down to my room and just cry, for hours. I didn't talk to anyone about times when I would drown myself in music and literature just to escape my life.

Don't worry, this isn't meant to be a downer post.

Yes, I have felt lonely and lost and scared and depressed -- most of the time, I feel those things all at once.  And the worst part about it was that I didn't feel like I could tell anyone, because that would make me fallible.
Weak.
Flawed.

It wasn't until I learned to let people in, even if just a little bit, that I overcame that crushing pressure. It didn't go away -- getting anything less than an A still stresses me out to no end. (Which, thankfully, I didn't have to worry about this semester. AGAIN! Haha bragging a little bit about my 4.0...) No, it didn't go away; however, I found something more important.

Love really is louder than the pressure to be perfect, regardless of what kind of love you're subject to. If it's romantic love, then you know that your significant other will have flaws and you learn to love them because of those flaws. If it's platonic love, then you learn about other people with similar flaws and make lifelong connections. If it's familial love, then it doesn't matter what a person could do or how big of a mistake they could make -- you'd love them anyway. And the best thing about all kinds of love is the support that it gives.

Love calls out to you -- when you have that bond, the urge to trust and feel and lean is almost inherent. At least, for me. When I learned to love and lean, the call to be perfect slowly began to soften. Even if I'm a failure at something, it doesn't matter. I still matter to someone. (Quite a few people, actually.) That fact is the greatest blessing I could've ever asked for.

-ka

86 - Where the Wild Things Are

Today is a sad day.

Maurice Sendak, the author of Where the Wild Things Are, passed away at the very respectable age of 83.

I'll be honest, I don't really know much about him. But I did grow up with Where the Wild Things Are, and so did, I think, almost every child in my generation. (Probably generations before me, as well.)

I always marvel at the genius it takes to create successful children's books. I mean, look at Dr. Seuss. You have to have quite the imagination and insight to delve into a child's mind after you've passed childhood. Sendak's books, so I've read, often relayed observations about the human psyche. If you've ever seen the movie of Where the Wild Things Are, you'd know that's true. My mom said that movie would be an awesome psychology movie -- not so much for little kids. But it was the illustrations in Sendak's book that made it such a great little kid book.

My sister is a kindergarten teacher, so she's starting to gain a collection of good children's books. It's interesting to look at the new ones to see what the new trends are. It's also interesting to look at the books that were read to me in elementary school. Comparatively, my elementary school days were not that long ago. (The librarian was my best friend and she would let me read books that hadn't even been processed yet. But I digress.)

I'd like to think that I have an active imagination. At least, more active than some. I'm passionate about artistic things and I frequently am locked away in the recesses of my mind - sometimes for hours. But, I'm definitely not a creative genius. Writers always like to think that their work is appreciated, though. I'm pretty sure they all fantasize about being world-renowned. I know I probably would never be like that - I don't even know if I could write fiction. But my sister said something a few months ago that stuck with me.

I've written regularly in my journal since I was 12. I just finished my fourth one since then, and sometimes I feel like I write because I have to. Future posterity and all that. But my sister said that sometimes it's good to write for the sake of writing. Not for anyone else except for you. I lose sight of that sometimes. Like in this blog, for example. I oftentimes find myself writing for other people - I write to receive comments. I try to emulate the professional bloggers out there, in hopes of one day gaining attention. Cole commented it on it, actually. He said that sometimes when he reads my blog, it doesn't sound like me. He said that sometimes I write in the style of other people as opposed to in the style of myself. That stuck with me also.

In order to be a writer, you have to put a little bit of yourself on paper. It's very similar to acting in that every person has a different style -- a different voice. Sometimes I put on an act, to impress people or to make myself feel better. Sometimes I hide from what I'm really feeling. If I write something down, it makes it more concrete. So if I don't want something to be true, I have a hard time writing it down. Just like Max in Sendak's book, I hide from the things that scare me. Love. Fear. Anger. Worry. Frustration. Pettiness.

Maurice Sendak wrote a book that not only spoke to children, it spoke to everyone. It speaks to everyone. I don't want to get all romantic about literature (like I tend to do), but there's something about putting serious insights like that in a children's book that makes them more poignant, somehow. Everyone feels those things, at least at one point in their life. Children aren't alone in feeling scared or angry. If anything, being older is more scary because you know that magic isn't real. I know that someday I'll be married and raising my own kids. I know that I can't be in school forever. I know that I'll have to be financially independent. I know that I'll have to make tough choices -- me, by myself. No one else.

There is a lot of responsibility that comes with having your own life.

I think we all need to go where the wild things are sometimes, so we can know that they aren't all bad. Scary -- yes. But not always bad.

Thank you, Maurice Sendak. You were an inspiration to us all.

You taught us that to face our fears, we simply need to put on our wolf suits and ride on a boat to greet our wild things with courage, determination, and an open mind.

So, everyone. Let the wild rumpus start.

-ka

85 - Adventure Time

One Tuesday afternoon, I decided that enough was enough.

I'd had enough of school, I'd had enough of my room, I'd had enough of writing papers, I'd had enough of playing it safe.

I'm not a very spontaneous person... at ALL... and I thought about all the fun that the spontaneous people have. They try new things, meet new people, develop new likes... and I do the same thing. Everyday. In fact, while I was thinking about this, I was at the gym. Which is almost always where I am on Tuesdays at noon.

I eat almost the same thing everyday, do the same things everyday, and see the same people every day. I am, as they say, a creature of habit.

After I told myself that enough was enough, I went back to my dorm, packed my backpack with stuff, and got on the bus. The only thinking time I did was looking up which bus routes go to where, and I ended up at the Logan Temple. Thus began my adventure.

I sat on the bus, pulled the string when my stop came up, and got out. As it was a lovely spring day, flowers were everywhere.

I also saw a lovely view of the temple from across the street. Determined to take lots of pictures, I made my way to the temple grounds. Once there, I commenced about an hour's worth of photography. Here are my favorites:

"A Mighty Fortress is Our God"

After I took many pictures, I sat on the lawn and read for about a half hour. (Speaking of reading... Reading Riot is not finished. I merely have much catching up to do.) This is what I read:

I've read it before - about three years ago. I heard the movie was good, so I wanted to read it again. For those of you that enjoy reading in stream of consciousness, I'd recommend this book. Not all of it is in stream of consciousness, but a good portion is. Disclaimer - there are some F bombs. Luckily, I didn't read any of those while I was reading this at the temple...

Anyway. After I was finished reading, I determined to make my way to Main Street. Along the way, I (of course) took some pictures.

Everyone in Logan always asks if I'm related to the chiropractor. Well, I don't know if I am. But I found his office! 

When I was on Main Street, I wandered into an antique bookstore called Books of Yesterday...

That last one is a VERY old copy of the Three Musketeers! I wanted to buy it so bad, but alas. Not in my budget.

After the bookstore, I wandered to the old courthouse and read for a while longer.

At about 6:15, I began walking back to my dorm. I didn't really want to wait at a bus stop or find my way back to the transit center, so I just walked home from Main Street.

I was gone from 2 until 7. All by myself, walking around Logan. I got a bit sunburned, as it was probably 80 degrees outside, and my feet really hurt afterward. The only person I told was Cole, and he just told me to be safe. He couldn't come because of classes and homework.

Around 6:30, I got a text from my roommate asking if I was dead. I assured her that I wasn't, and that I simply needed... time. Time alone. (When you're living in a dorm, you NEVER get alone time.)

I needed peace, I needed an open mind. I needed to do something so wholly unlike me to see if I could really do it. And I did.

I know it's not anything big. I mean, it was just a bus ride and a long walk. But it was a step into the future for me.

My first year of college is over. I'm starting my first job in fall. I signed a lease on an apartment - my own lease. I think it's time I start taking more steps, don't you?

-ka

84 - Run

Wow, I haven't posted in a long time. Haha. Spring break happened, and then this week was kind of busy, and... yep. Haha.

Here's an update on my life: I love working out.

I've always thought that I just wasn't athletic, and that was that. I've never been really in shape, and I've never exercised regularly. Until the Rock Solid Challenge. If anything, exercise is the habit I acquired from it. I just feel so good and productive all the time when I exercise regularly, and it's a feeling I've never had before. Not that I'm an unhappy person, it's just a different kind of happy. I know it's stupid, and very much a dilemma of every girl, but self-image is something that I struggle with sometimes. All of my sisters were like sticks growing up, and I didn't, for lack of a better term, even out, until later in junior high. It didn't help that I just ate junk ALL the time. (It's a wonder I'm not 300 pounds, I basically grew up on Wendy's.)

But then I started to work out, and I just feel healthy. My body hasn't changed THAT much (because it didn't really need to... which is still kind of hard to see sometimes), but I feel very different. It's just good. I just never gave it a good try before, so I didn't realize the effect it would actually have on me. It's not like I'm a track star or pro athlete, I definitely started slow and am still working my way up, but it's getting easier.

As if the feeling wasn't enough, I don't feel guilty reading or watching TV when I work out. Usually, if I do it at home, I feel like I should be doing something else. But if I do it when I run, it's not me avoiding homework because I am doing something productive at the same time! It's great.

I was talking to my mom about this at dinner a couple days ago (I was in Salt Lake to see Beauty and the Beast), and mentioned that in the next year or two it would be a big accomplishment to run a half-marathon. She was really excited and wants to do it with me, and train during the summer. It's something I never saw myself doing, because I didn't think that I could. I know that it'll be SO hard, but I think it's a good goal. And even kinda fun. :)

Never thought I'd consider running fun...

83 - kindle

I know I've mentioned it a few times, but I feel like I need to officially address something.

I love books. I love physical books. I love reading them, turning the pages, even smelling them (on occasion). There was a time in my life when I always had a book with me, and there was nothing and no one that could stop me from reading it when I wanted.

That being said, I have always been against kindles. (Like I said, I know I've mentioned this before. But I've read so much anti-kindle stuff recently, so I felt like I should explain myself.) I naturally shy away from anything that promotes the idea that paper is obsolete, especially books. My dad bought the first generation kindle when it came out several years ago, and I was mostly disinterested. Then I was mostly offended. (Don't ask, I'm not sure why. Haha.)

My parents have asked and asked if I wanted one for years, and the answer was always no. And I thought it would always be no. Then I met someone at Utah State who carried one around, and I messed around with hers for a while. Then, I decided that I had perhaps judged them too quickly...

So I now have a kindle touch.

I still buy books (in fact, I just bought three online yesterday), and I still read books. I have discovered that I can buy the super cheap cheesy romance novels on my kindle (Most of the time I don't have much of an interest in paying $10 for them in book stores because I don't know if I'd ever read them again) and then save my money for the books I really want to buy. I still browse Barnes and Noble (one of my favorite activities EVER) and buy on a whim. I still read my books over and over again. I'm still building my library. But now I don't have to spend money on a book I know is going to get ruined in Mexico. (Thanks, Mom.) Plus, many of the cheap cheesy romance novels are actually free! And all of the books published before 1900 are free. (I mostly want to own those, though, so that's not a great incentive.)

Also, I can connect it with my library account. It doesn't have nearly the selection that an actual library would have, but since I don't live in the city where my library is anymore, it's great! Come summertime, I'll go back to checking out books. But for now, getting them instantly without having to be in Salt Lake is fantastic.

I just felt like I had to defend the usefulness of the kindle. It doesn't take away from my inherent bookishness. It definitely hasn't replaced my obsession with spending all of my money on books. Print books are still much better than my kindle, but I'm not ashamed to say that I like my kindle as well. :)

82 - I Dare You

Watch this video. Just... watch it. It's not very long. You won't regret it. :)

81 - Busy Bee (Also, Reading Riot nos. 9 & 10)

So... the last couple weeks have been extremely busy for me. In fact, I probably don't have time to write this blog post. But I'm giving myself some free time because I am in desperate need.

My books for last week and this week were the rest of the Hunger Games series. I read both of them last week, but I'm still counting it... Haha. I just haven't had much time for reading this week. I had a paper due on Monday for Literary History of the Early Americas (I wrote in on captivity narratives in the early 18th century), and I had a paper due today on Wilfred Owen's "Dulce et Decorum Est" in Literary Analysis. Now, these essays were for Lit classes, so my typical high school write-it-in-two-hours-before-I-go-to-bed-and-get-an-A routine would not hold so well. If I was smart and organized, I would have drawn out the writing of these papers over several days. Did I do that? *shakes head, sadly* Sunday night and Monday morning were spent writing and re-writing my 800-1000 word essay on captivity narratives. And from 5 PM to 11 PM yesterday, I was living and breathing prosody for the four-page Owen paper. I also have to give a speech tomorrow, so Tuesday was spent writing that. Of course, I had reading assignments in ALL of my classes, so I had to fit those in during meals and going to the gym.

It may seem like a lot of work, but I actually really enjoyed writing about "Dulce et Decorum Est". It's a poem that I've seen every year since I was a sophomore in high school, and it was really fun to really pick it apart and find hidden meanings. I know that English majors get made fun of because it seems like they make stuff up for their own benefit. How do I really know what Owen meant why he wrote his paper? Did he really deviate from iambic pentameter on purpose? Mostly their analyses seem pretentious. And, I have to say, I don't care. I have no idea what Owen really meant. I can't just go talk to him about a poem he wrote about World War 1. Mostly because he's dead. But I do it for me. I do it because, for all I know, I'm the only person who's thought about his poem in a certain way. It may seem like I just make fancy stuff up to fit into the context, but, to me, I'm weaving a story. I'm making the poem come alive. Not for anyone else, just for me. The same goes with prose. There is a reason the English is not a science -- there are no exactly correct answers. And that's what I love about it. There are new things to say about a poem or a novel every time you read it.

Ok, my little rant is over. Haha.

They were excellent. The third one started off a little slow, mostly because it was laying the foundation for the ending, but it was still so good. I read Catching Fire in an afternoon and Mockingjay the next day. Haha. I got that sad feeling that comes after a good series. I wish that there were more books. But Suzanne Collins really wrote the ending well, and I am very happy with them. They deserve all the hype they're getting. (Not that I'm so knowledgable... haha. I talk about books like I'm the end-all critic. I'm apologize if I ever sound arrogant or snobby...)

Anyway. Happy Spring Break! Mine starts on Monday! :)