Grow Some

From the title of this blog, you would think that I am going to refer to growing a vegetable garden, or growing your hair out so that it was long and luscious. However, I am not referring to any of these things.

"Grow Some" refers to gathering your courage and not being afraid, because being afraid to confront people can cause more problems than confronting would have.

Talk to people. Talk to them about what's bothering you. Don't post a sign or chat it up on facebook.

Urgh.

The Marshmallow Test

This is the CUTEST video that we watched in Psychology class this last Thursday. This is an experiment measuring Emotional Intelligence. This is specifically testing how well the kids can delay gratification, by not eating their marshmallow until the experimenter comes back so that they can have two. Click on the link below and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wWW1vpz1ybo

Counsel on a Tuesday

From the time I was a little girl, I have always remembered sitting on the pew one certain Sunday and being so excited to have my dad in the congregation with us.  I scooted my cute little self down the bench and sat on my dad's lap.  The smell of his cologne and the feel of his suit jacket against my cheek as I snuggled on his lap are still vivid in my memory.  This Sunday is such a strong memory because my dad has almost always held a calling that required him to sit on the stand during sacrament meeting. Whether it was being a member of the High Council or a member of the Bishopric, my family rarely got the chance to sit with my dad during sacrament meeting.

In March of 2007, my dad was called to be bishop of the Graham ward.  You can imagine my disappointment (it was rather selfish) upon hearing this.  It not only meant that the rumors about our ward being split were true, but that my family was going to be a in a new ward, which meant not having my best friend Sarah at church with me anymore.  I let myself sit in my selfish sadness for a little bit, but then realized that I needed to stop being a self-centered teenage girl and support my dad in his new calling.

This post tonight is about the importance of supporting, listening to, and obeying our church leaders, specifically our bishops.  I went in tonight in a skirt and blouse for an interview with my bishop here at BYU-I.  He walked out of his office with a warm smile and an outstretched hand, and he knew my name.  This may seem like a silly thing to be impressed with, but as a bishop at a university you not only have a lot of names to remember, but they're constantly changing because of the in and outflow of students from semester to semester; so I was impressed.  He sat me down and we had a very nice chat.  He asked a few questions about my major, how my grades are, how I like it here and just some more basic get-to-know-you questions. When we got to the concept of the honor code he asked how it differed from Provo to Idaho, and after explaining, he simply said that as a ward they really try to adhere to the rules and regulations set forth by the university. He encouraged me to do all I could to help others obey the honor code and live up to the standards we are expected to live by.  He also encourage me to seek out opportunities to help others, specifically opportunities to serve my roommates and make their lives a little easier.

As I sat listening to the counsel he was giving, the thought ran through my mind of how much I appreciate bishops.  They are honest, good men who do their best to fulfill their calling. Now, some people have had experiences with bishops that are not pleasant to say the least.  They are simply men, imperfect human beings, who received a calling which they might not have stepped into as well as they should have. However, bishops are good, honest men.  :)

In the past three years I have come to appreciate bishops even more after seeing my dad fulfill his calling as bishop. This has helped my testimony of bishops to grow stronger and my obedience to their counsel to become more consistent. I have a strong testimony of listening to and obeying our bishops. They are men called of God to serve His people, and we must all do our part to help our bishops in any way possible.

So I loved receiving the few words of counsel that I did tonight from Bishop Byerly. Not only that, but when asking about my dating life, I responded, "Yes, I'm dating." Upon seeing the foolish grin on my face he responded, "And judging from that expression things must be going well. It looks like you are in love."

It was a good night.

La Jolla's Got Talent

So.... I participated in my apartment complex's talent show this last weekend. The only stinky thing is that I had a horrible cold the whole weekend, so my poor throat did the best it could!!! I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think...honestly.

Gravity by Sara Bareilles, sung by Taylor   (My song)

Just Can't Get It Right Today

*Before reading, please scroll down to the playlist at the very bottom of the page and find "Can't Get it Right Today" by Joe Purdy, and double click on it.*


I just can't seem to get it right today 
I just can't seem to get it right today 
I just can't seem to get it right today 
I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh, I guess I'm gonna give up 

It's nearly been a year since he's been gone 
And we still sing his goodbye songs 
Goodness knows she should move on 
But she just can't let him go 
No, she just can't let him go 

I'm sorry if I made you want to cry 
I'm sorry if I made you want to cry 
You should know, I never meant to hide 
I just hate bringing you down 
Oh, I just hate bringing you down 

I just can't seem to get it right today 
I just can't seem to get it right today 
I just can't seem to get it right today 
I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh, I guess I'm gonna give up                                         
                                                                              
And I dropped my paintbrush in the dirt 
Still remember just how much that hurt
I cut my hand and wait for it to work 
But I just couldn't bring him back 
No, I just couldn't bring him back 

I just can't seem to get it right today 
Oh, I just can't seem to get it right today 
I just can't seem to get it right today 
I guess I'm gonna give up 

Oh, I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh Lord I said I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh Lord I said I guess I'm gonna give up 


This song is one that I love.  It seems to be one that you can relate to whether it's a bad hair day or there is just something that doesn't feel right.


You wake up in the morning, roll out of bed and the floor hits your feet with a ferocity that takes you by surprise.  You groan, stretch, and sloppily step to the bathroom and take a look in the mirror only to turn away and reluctantly get ready to shower, because after taking that look in the mirror, you need some work.  ...and this is just the first five minutes.


It's a day where when you're walking, the toe of your sandal gets caught on the edge of the next concrete slab in the sidewalk and you trip and stumble, not only embarrassing yourself, but scuffing your cute sandals from ROSS. 


Joe Purdy, the lyricist of the above song, expressed some similar emotions about a day that just wasn't right.  
It's nearly been a year since he's been gone 
And we still sing his goodbye songs 
Goodness knows she should move on 
But she just can't let him go 
No, she just can't let him go 
This verse suggests a woman that is having a hard time getting over an ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, ex-person-she-had-a-relationship-with, etc. However, the line "And we still sing his goodbye songs" caught my attention. Primarily, the word "we" made me think about this verse a little more. It's odd that the man singing this song would be singing the goodbye songs of this woman's lost love.  But let me suggest a different meaning. 
And I dropped my paintbrush in the dirt 
Still remember just how much that hurt
I cut my hand and wait for it to work 
But I just couldn't bring him back 
No, I just couldn't bring him back 
The feeling I get after listening/reading this verse is that it was not an ex-person-she-had-a-relationship-with, but a son... "But I just couldn't bring him back, no, I just couldn't bring him back."  It would make sense why the two would be singing the goodbye songs together, and why it hurt so much for this artist to drop his paintbrush in the dirt. That line has a lot of symbolism in it through the idea that this man, the artist, was taking the things that are so vital to his work (paintbrush and his hand) and destroying them, in a sense. I think he does this to try and find reality. He is in denial that his son is gone and he is trying to break the reality that was around him to try and find one where his son existed, but it didn't work.


To some this song may be depressing. But to me, I look at it as a turning point in their coping. It has an upbeat feeling, the melody has a glint of hope in it, and he's admitting that while he's trying to do everything he can, today just isn't right. It is an acknowledgement that a year has passed and he realizes now that it doesn't have to be miserable for forever, because it is just today that he just can't get right, so he's going to stop trying and let things flow naturally.


I just can't seem to get it right today 
I guess I'm gonna give up 
Oh, I guess I'm gonna give up 


Things will be better tomorrow.

Puddle Pounding

I silently yelled in my mind as I took another step which landed my foot in a puddle that went unnoticed until that very moment. With the next step, water splashed up my pant-leg and onto the back of my calf. "Great," I muttered as I shook my right foot to try and get all the water out (which really did nothing but satisfy my own frustration).  It was a rainy, cloudy morning in Rexburg. I happen to be one of those fortunately short people that, even with rolling up the cuff of your pants, they still get wet and drive you absolutely insane.  "Just a few more blocks and you'll be home and able to curl up on the couch with your blanket and take a nap," I told myself as I stepped into yet another puddle. Great.


The flashing yellow light on the Crosswalk sign told the silver Toyota that it needed to stop and let me cross.  As I crossed the street and bicyclist decided it would make my day if he rode by me really fast; fast enough to splash the small amount of water on the street up into my face and onto my cute, green Billabong sweatshirt. "Ugh, rude." Bikers have never been on my good side.


As I approached the next intersection there is no Crosswalk sign with the flashing yellow light. So I look both ways, make sure that I have plenty of time to cross before either car would tragically hit me, and begin to cross. A huge delivery truck stops for me on my left, and I nod in thanks. However, the small Honda on my right finds it necessary to bring his car so close to where he starts out a few feet from me and slowly inches closer. What? Is he in some kind of huge hurry?  Will saving those few precious seconds that it would have taken to cross the intersection from his proper place at the other side make or break his pattern of punctuality? I don't think so.  People like that make me want to slow my pace as I cross.  Maybe take out my cell phone, make a few phone calls, file my fingernails, you know, take my own sweet time. "Idiot! I'm trying to walk here! Let's have a little respect for personal space okay?!" I yelled at the driver, flinging my hands up in the air and waving them like a madwoman.


Okay, so maybe I didn't do that. But the scene crossed my mind as I stepped onto the sidewalk.  The final trek to my apartment door lasted another three minutes and it all passed rather uneventfully. As I stepped into my apartment, a wave of relief washed over me as I dropped my bag and sat down on the couch. But then, at that very moment, a feeling of disgust followed as I felt the wet, cold cuffs of my pants press against the back of my calves. I yelled silently in my mind, went to my room, and changed my pants.

Perfect

This weekend has been pretty good. Fairly uneventful, but perfect.

1. On Friday, Derek and I got "The Knowing" from Redbox. I had heard it was a pretty lame movie, but as the movie started, it seemed like it was going to be decent. However, once we got to the end (sorry to anyone who hasn't seen the movie) the movie resolved the plot by using aliens. Yes, there was a huge flying saucer with creepy pale-skinned guys who turned into your typical Hollywood alien creature. Perfect.
2. I took my humanities exam on Saturday.  I studied in the morning and early afternoon and then went to the testing center. Upon completing, I turned in my test and paused at the top of the stairs to find my score on the monitor. I saw the numbers "0050" and right next to it: "100% Perfect score!" Perfect.
3. Saturday night, Derek and I went to "Abraham and Isaac and The Summoning of Everyman." They were plays that I had to watch for my Humanities class. All I'm going to say is that Derek was half asleep the whole time and my mind was wandering to what we could do once the play was done. Perfect.

So needless to say I had a pretty good weekend.

Girl Talk

Why have conversations between girls at a slumber party been given the endearing nick-name "girl talk?"  If you consider the topic of these conversations, 99.9% of the time it will be centered around boys.  So why not call it boy talk? I don't know. Personally I think it's a much more fitting title.  Oh well.

Tonight, my roommate Sam and I stayed up chatting and our conversation went directly to our boyfriends.  We quickly got caught up in exchanging stories of how we met, the first date, the first kiss, and all the absolutely adorable things about them. Then the topic changed to how wonderful it is to not only have them as a boyfriend, but as a best friend which is something that I find to be essential to a relationship.

I love being able to say whatever I want, do whatever stupid thing I feel like doing because I'm not afraid to look like a dork in front of him, and feel so comfortable around him to the point where I can be completely myself.

It's funny how two girls can sit and talk about boys for hours, and probably go on for days on end if they had the time. Girl talk (or boy talk. Maybe my short, but very persuasive, argument earlier convinced you to change your ways.) is fun, uplifting, and helps you to be happy. This night would not have been nearly as much fun without my chat with Sam (or worth staying up until 1:54 AM).

Stick Shifts and Flashing Lights

I am a confident and good driver...when I am driving an automatic.  Before this last March, the closest thing I had come to a manual transmission was our 4-wheeler. Lets just keep that in mind.

On Sunday Derek and I made some delicious brownies. We decided to take some over to Abbie and Adam so that they could share in the deliciousness that was the brownies we had made. (Yes, I said "was" because as of two days ago, they are gone.) After dropping off the treats and chatting with them for a few minutes, we said our goodbyes and headed out the door. I had been promising Derek that I would practice driving his car because it's a manual transmission, so he finally took me up on that and we drove to an empty parking lot for me to practice. So far, so good...a little rough, but I was getting the hang of it. He then said:

"Hey Tay, why don't you drive home?"
"Derek, I don't think I can!"
"Come on Tay, just drive home."

So without another word, I pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.  Now, lets keep a few things in mind:

1. Before this evening, I had only ever driven a manual transmission once for about ten minutes.
2. I have never before driven in Rexburg.
3. I was extremely nervous and all my focus was on making sure I didn't kill the car in the middle of the road.

As I approached the roundabout, I realized that I was speeding. I slowed down, went through the roundabout, and as I look in the rear view mirror, I see flashing lights.  My mind instantly goes into panic mode, my sympathetic nervous system kicks in, and I pull the car over and successfully kill it. I turn to Derek and say with panic in my voice, "I don't have my driver's license!"

I didn't have my license because I was not planning on driving that evening. After the officer explained to me what I had done, I was speeding (at least he was nice about it) he asked for my license and I said somewhat sheepishly, "I don't have it because I was not planning on driving this evening."  Luckily, he took the insurance and registration and let us off with a warning.

When I finally pulled the car into the parking lot of my apartment complex, shut it off, and climbed out I looked at Derek and said, "Well we'll just see when the next time I drive your car is."

I'd Rather Have a Fish

My family moved into our house in August of 1993 and we still live there today. Not long after we moved in, we got cats. One was named Fern and the other Mr. Murray.  Murray died a few years later after running away and getting into something.  So we buried him and got another cat and named him Ernie.  These were the two cats that you would see meandering around my property if you ever visit my home. Well, our sweet cat Fern died a few days ago, and now it is just Ernie all alone.  He and Fern never really seemed to be the best of friends, but now that she's gone, our poor Ernie is mourning. 

As I was discussing this with Derek we got to the topic of how we're both really dog people. We think cats are....fine, but we'd rather have dogs. I brought up the point that maybe people in old age might want cats because they are easier to take care of, they aren't quite as high maintenance as a dog might be. Dogs need to be played with, need constant attention, and need to be let out to go to the bathroom while cats just need food and a litter box and they're good to go! They entertain themselves. So maybe that's why some elderly people prefer to have cats. Derek looked at me and said, very seriously, "Tay, I don't want a cat. Even when I'm old and saggy. I'd rather have a fish."