Babysitter

Sometimes I really enjoy babysitting.

I babysat these two little girls last night while their parents went to see "Wicked."
It was kind-of perfect.
We talked about "Wicked" on the way to the house, because I had just seen it, so it wasn't one of those awkward rides where neither of you can think of anything to say.

These kids are some of the cutest kids in the world. Sophia (Phia) is 4, and Isabel (Eesa) is 2.

Every time I go, these kids have a new TV/Video obsession. Last time, it was the movie "Mirror Mirror."  (No complaints there, I loved that movie.)

This time they were obsessed with the Nickelodeon TV show "Avatar: The Last Airbender."
Oh my gosh you guys. Now I know why my cousins would wake up every Saturday morning to watch it. Because it's AWESOME.

I remember seeing bits and pieces of it as a kid. An episode at the Bames, an episode at the Gym, but I've never really thought about it. Once I saw TOTAL cliff-hanger at the gym. This was probably about 6 years ago.
Last night, I saw the episode after that one. After 6 years, I get some kind of closure.
And.... I think I'm hooked.
I WILL be checking these out of the library.

They had bought the seasons on DVD because they had already watched it on Netflix. 4 TIMES.
Phia was able to run the whole huge confusing TV system way better than I could.

Ya, they have obsessions with TV stuff.... but they LOVE to go outside.
Phia likes to show off on the swing in their little backyard, and little Eesa wanted me to push her. Then Phia would ask me if I wanted to play a game, and she made one up on the spot.
We were Pirates, and we collected two bucketfuls of "pirate treasure" (rocks) to take to the treehouse, which we then had to throw out the window (back to the landscaping area) to stop other pirates from coming in and taking it.
Phia made up a song on the spot about loving her family. She threw in a verse about good babysitters.

Phia likes to talk about EVERYTHING. She recently lost her first tooth, and the Tooth-fairy gave her "a square green paper penny." (dollar.) But she was mad because she "wanted a guitar."
I told her that she was getting the Tooth-fairy confused with Santa Claus.

Eesa likes to talk too... but I have a harder time deciphering what she means.

There was an old digital camera on the dining room counter, and Phia said it was hers. We took pictures of each other making funny faces (apparently, the only proper way to make a funny face is to put your fingers in your mouth and pull at the sides), and we took pictures together.
It was SO cute.

Phia wrote a "letter" to my mom on part of a paper towel. Translated, it basically "said" that our parents should double date.

And when it was almost 10:00pm, after Eesa had crashed and I'd taken her upstairs, it was just Phia and I cuddled up watching Avatar.

Smiling, she turned to look up at me and said, "Sometimes kids love their babysitters."
"And sometimes we love you, too."

Folds of Fabric

This is from my Drawing class. Remember that Milk jug from last week?
My teacher tossed a tablecloth over it and told us to draw it using contour lines.
Not the most creative thing ever, but certainly one of the most tedious.
I didn't "shade" any of this I just used lighter and thinner lines.

Oh, and I hid an eye in there somewhere... just for fun.

Sometimes I wonder

Sometimes I wonder if people like me nearly as much as I like them.
Most of the time I don't think that it's possible.

No names. No explanation. Just all of the things that I want to say but can't.

Do you know how much I miss talking to you? We've never had many classes together and this year is no exception. I only ever see you in passing. Never long enough to really talk. I know about some of the things you are doing, and we talk about that. But I never get to know how you feel about it. I would crusade for your cause, but I don't know how you feel about it. I just want you to be happy, and you never let me know. No one knows. It's kind-of killing me. You've always been a happy, mild person and can put up with a lot of stuff. I don't want this to be an excuse for people to walk all over you. I think I worry about this situation more than you do. I wanted to tell you some news, but couldn't. You seem a lot farther away than you are. This is our last year of High School, and after that, who knows? I'm trying to savor all of the time I have left with you. We compliment each other in crazy ways, and our friendship is something I am lucky to have found and will be forever grateful for. Sometimes I feel like you are a better version of myself. I'm snatching silver moments with you, knowing that some day they will be golden. Sometimes it makes me physically sad to think of all the things that will never be the same.

I see you almost every morning, but haven't really talked to you in ages. I didn't notice that your hair has grown much longer than I've ever seen it before. I think it looks god, but haven't had the chance to tell you yet. I feel guilty that I haven't noticed before now. You are one of the best people I know. You are going to marry the next prophet, no joke. You are the most spiritual person that I know, but sometimes I pity you. You put a lot of unnecessary restrictions on yourself. You seem to be happy with the way you live, but I can't help but think of all of the fun and important things that you miss. I think I know you really well once, but it's been awhile. I wish I knew you better. I wish I could really talk to you, but it seems like too much time has passed. I don't think we will ever be as close as we once were, and it really weighs down on my heart.

I've known you since we were very little. I remember the play dates and everything. We re-connected in High School. We've grown closer. You are the person I spend most of my day with, and I am so grateful for it. Still, I don't feel like I really know you. I just found out what you want to be when you grow up, and where you want to go for school, but you weren't the one to tell me. If I don't really know you, then who do I know? YOU know who you are. YOU stand up for yourself like none of my other friends do. You are strong and determined, and sure in the path you have chosen. You don't put up with crap from other people.You don't know how much I admire you for that. You aren't Mormon, but we share a lot of the same values. You make it easy for me to be a good person, and have the strength to be myself and say what I think.

We've only been friends for a little while. You have some crazy ideas. You don't let people walk all over you. You are comfortable with who you are. We don't always see eye to eye, but we both respect that we are entitled to our own opinions.We used to talk a lot. Now we don't have the opportunity. I don't think that you have ever considered me a close friend. I'm sorry about that. I wish I knew you better. I wish I could find a way to keep up a relationship. It's tough.

You are a family friend. But I've always seen you as a personal friend. We have a lot of things in common, and I love that. You know more about me than most people because you are one of the three people that read my blog. Your example is what inspired me to blog in the first place. I feel like I can see who you really are, which is something I can't say about any of my other friends. I love this connection... but it will never replace actually talking to you. You were the first person I talked to about my first date. You talk to me about your dating stuff, something no one else does. Your presence is always a comfort, and it feels like you belong here, with me and my family.Circumstances have come up and messed with you in ways that are unbelievably frustrating, but you let it roll off of you. You don't know how much I admire you. My heart hurts for you in the things you have to go through.

I used to be close friends with the two of you. Then you both moved away.When did you dye your hair? I saw your senior pictures and noticed how different things are now. You were my childhood friend. You were the first person I really "hung out" with. We used to talk on the phone for hours. I visited you once, and our friendship picked up just where we left off, but now I've lost you again. I see your old house, and always think of your family. I miss the friends we used to be. And you,where did your adorable birthmark go? I didn't know that you have heart-problems. I always planned to visit, but it never worked out. We aren't so far away as it seems, and we have had opportunities to meet, but haven't done for years. Your brother is married now? So much has happened. We used to be great friends. I once thought that your phone number was my student number, because it was the only number I had completely memorized at that age. Now I've lost you.

You are my role model. I am sometimes in your shadow. Sometimes, people think that I am you. I'm not, and never will be. I grew up with you, but now that we have both grown up so much, I see you as such a different person. An amazing person. I love you. You were always a family member, but now I see that you are a person too. I have seen a different side of you, and I know you on a different level. We don't communicate a lot, but when we do, it's always loving. I look forward to electronically following you on your adventures.

I'm always looking out for you, do you notice? I love you a lot. But we are VERY different people. Sometimes you say hurtful things. Sometimes I try to bully you into doing something, even though I know you don't want to. But that is part of what we need to do. Sometimes I need to hear something, even though it's hard, and you are the only one who will say it. Sometimes you need to be pushed out of the nest, and I do it. But most of the time, we are closer than either of us realize. When the time comes to push us apart, I know that we will miss each other more than we realize. Sometimes you surprise me with what you say -how you feel. I can tell you everything. I usually do. I worry what you'll do without me, but I love and trust you.

I've always seen you as the stereotypical girl in those High School Hollywood movies. You have never been without the attention of guys, as long as I have known you. I might have envied you. But you opened up to a mutual friend, and I don't anymore. Sometimes I pity the way you choose to live, and sometimes I envy it. You are still one of the smartest, sweetest people I know. You are very accepting. You are very loving. 

 The rest of you. Maybe I don't know you very well. But I know you well enough to know that you are a good person. I smile at you when I see you. I'm honestly glad to see you, and I'm truly glad to know you. But I know that I don't really know you, and probably never will. This fact is always saddening.

It is physically and emotionally impossible to know all of you like I want to.
 I want to know your secret aspirations.
 I want to be there for you in your hard times.
 I want to get to know you for the precious souls that each of you are.

But I can't.
I'm lucky to know you in the way that I do, but I wish for more.
These people are so important.
And most of them don't even know.

I really love all of you.
I don't think that any of you know how deep, or how important it is to me.

Do any of you feel the same?

In this life,I can never know you the way I want to.
But Jesus already does. And God always has.
They will love you unconditionally, and know you better than you know yourself.

I know that they love me more than I can ever know.
And that is how I get through the hard times.

A Humbling Calling... again.

There was a family history fireside last night. Everyone said that the guy who was talking was really amazing, so I ditched out on a choir practice to see it.
I walked in and was almost immediately greeted by President Worthen. I love that guy. He shook my hand, and then asked if my parents were still here. I said that my Dad had dropped us off, and might still be in the parking lot. He hurried off, as I described our car as something that looks like it should have stopped running about 10 years ago.
That was odd, to say the least. 
I was kind-of iffy about this whole thing, but I went anyway.
At first I regretted it.
I've been known to be... moody at times. For no apparent reason. And at the beginning of that meeting I became very depressed, very quickly.
I saw Emily Adams and immediately made my way to her to say "Hi" and chat a bit before the meeting started. It turned out that she was kind-of running the meeting, which left for minimal chatting capabilities. I was going to say hi to Emily B too, but she was playing the piano and didn't have time for me. I'm also friends with the person leading the music.
All of my friends were busy leading the meeting.
I felt kind-of useless.
I felt kind-of left out.
The meeting wasn't all that it was cracked up to be (maybe I should be more careful when I listen to what the Relief Society ladies tell me), but it was still enjoyable.
I wanted to leave pretty much as soon as it ended.
But Eliza wanted cookies.
At the refreshment table, President Worthen came up and asked me for my parents phone number. I smiled and gave it to him, then watched him wander off with his cell-phone.
I'm pretty  naive.
I rounded up my family members so that we could go, but PW asked me if he could talk to me for a minute first. Of course, I said yes.
I'm pretty naive.
I don't know what I expected.
But I know that I didn't expect this.

President Worthen asked me to give a 5minute talk at Stake Conference.
I said "Oh wow." a LOT.
Here is what I wrote about our meeting.

I just so happened to have a notebook on me. Be prepared.

I never expected this. Never.

I was so preoccupied when I got home, that I cleaned the entire kitchen just to keep my mind off of things.

When mom came home she said she was sorry for me, and that if SHE had been home when PW called for permission, she wouldn't have said yes.

I'm still not sure how I feel about this whole thing. I sure was helpful when I sealed my fate.
But that is a really nice promise that I wrote down up there.
I was feeling kind-of useless earlier that night.
Now I get to be the youth speaker Youth Conference with a visiting General Authority.

I am always surprised by these kind-of callings. I never see it coming.
Everyone else does. As soon as I walked out of the room, Victoria Jackson (talking with Eliza at the time) guessed that I was going to be asked to speak at Stake Conference.
I didn't even know when Stake Conference was.

I know that I'm a pretty good person, and I usually allude to that fact. I've never had problems with my self esteem.
But I guess that I'm still surprised when other people think I can do stuff like this.

Crazy stuff. 

Household items

If you have a Dyson Vacuum cleaner, you have a pretty cool household.

My Art teacher is... different from any other teacher I've ever had.
This guy is ex-military. So he's strict.
Who has ever heard of a STRICT art teacher?
He is also a college professor, which makes him have unrealistic expectations for the kids in the class (many of whom don't even know where to put the shadow on a lit figure).

I didn't expect that I'd have a lot of homework for my two art classes. But I do.
Photography has a LOT of outside work. Drawing does too.

I'm supposed to keep a sketchbook of household items to turn in at the end of the quarter. I have a bunch of sketchbooks... but most of them only have one or two drawings in them.
I guess that is going to change.

I know that that's a good thing. But I'm not sure that I want to fill my first sketchbook with drawings of house-hold stuff.

Milk Jug.

I am in a Drawing class at school.
My "Work of the week" for this week is the project that I did for that class.
It is a pencil drawing of an old, rusted out milk jug.

Here is the milk jug.

Here is my drawing.

The picture was taken at an angle that was ever so  slightly different than the angle I drew it on.

Some Lady

I said I would blog about Hawaii. This is that post.
But this is also not that post. If you want to get a complete travel-log, feel free to look through my Facebook Album "My Time in Paradise," read the descriptions, and piece it together. Or you could, you know, ask me.
Instead, I've decided to focus this post on one aspect of our trip.
The whole reason we took the trip in the first place.

That's right. Aria

I guess I can do this chronologically.
Which means that I get to start out with a very funny story.
Eliza and I planned to leave at 6:15am to get to the airport on time for the flight. We were out the door at 6:35, and got there alright and everything. Mom walked us to the gate, because some airports let you do that now.
I haven't been on an airplane in 4 years. It was really exciting. I was in the best mood ever. I was beaming all the way through take-off because it was finally sinking in... I am going HAWAII!!!
That euphoria lasted all the way to baggage claim in the Honolulu airport. It's a good thing that Eliza was there, because I was making wrong turns all over the place. We didn't take the most direct route (because we were a little lost), but we ended up in the right place in plenty of time to grab our luggage when it started coming around the claim area. It was a pretty full flight, and everyone was clustered around where the bags dropped, hoping to grab theirs as soon as it fell.
Not me. Eliza was sitting down somewhere, but I was standing patiently on the farther side of the baggage claim. I thought it was a great plan, I could see the suitcase as soon as it fell, and then wait for it to come over to me, grab it, and go without getting in anybody's way. Genius.
From a distance, I saw our suitcase drop onto runny-thingy (technical term), and got ready to grab it when it came my way. My genius plan was dashed pretty quickly when I saw some lady walk through the doors on the other side of the room, pick up my suitcase, quickly check it, and walk out.
I was a little stunned. Should I... run after her? She was already out of the doors she had come through, and quickly walking away. Eliza was still there, and I couldn't go running crazy around the airport without her (because I might never make it back). And I wasn't 100% sure that it really was my suitcase. Lots of luggage looks similar. People switch it all the time.

I decided that it wasn't a big deal, and that I'd keep looking for my real bag. Eliza joined me again shortly thereafter, and I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that some lady had just made off with my luggage.
I was telling Eliza about the lady  that had stolen our luggage when...

... she walked through the doors again.


... and she was Aria.

Aria's room mate had made leis for us. 

 
We were all very relieved. We passed around some big bear hugs, and started breathing. We swapped stories of "the baggage claim lady"  from our very different perspectives while walking on the way to the car.
This story was suddenly very humorous.

What was the point of this story?  
Through the whole thing, I never said, "Some girl"or anything like that.
I immediately (and unconsciously) thought lady.
because that is what Aria has become.

Awwww, Alayna, that's really cute...
I am serious.

She cares about her ward, and takes her responsibilities seriously. On Saturday night, having forgotten to buy the cake-mix for the "linger-longer" treats after the block for the next day, we ran (literally) to Foodland and got there 5 minutes after they closed. She begged/pleaded/persuaded them to let her in, got the cake-mix, had to borrow eggs from the guys next door, and stayed up way late making the cutest refreshments ever.
She didn't even make a big deal out of it the next day. But once the story got out (after I spread it around a little), it pretty much became legend.

There is a LOT of stuff to do in Hawaii, and Aria planned it so that we could make the most of our time. And we did.

She was the perfect chauffeur and travel agent and (despite her allegations to the opposite) everyone knew her. There were a LOT of introductions. Everybody likes Aria.
(I am a frequent reader of Aria's blog, so it was super cool to meet the people she talks about.)
I really enjoyed meeting Aria's friends Emma and Mathew. They are siblings. Emma is kind-of my kindred spirit. Aria was talking with Emma at first, which left Eliza and I to talk with Mathew. He asked me a kind-of weird question,
 "Do you and Aria have similar personalities?"
I surprised myself by saying "No. Aria's a lot nicer than I am."

It's a funny thing, but sometimes you don't realize how true something is until you've said it out loud.

This is Aria's house.

I know that Aria has gone a little bit crazy trying to plan for when Eliza and I came. She still had some finals to do, but we were the priority.

Not many people would babysit an 11-month-old-boy (whose name just happened to be "Will Turner," no joke) on the day of their music performance, bring him to the concert, sort-of host a party afterwards, and then walk to the pick-up place and absolutely refuse to be paid for it.
But Aria would.

Aria is a happy person. Other people's excitement and happiness make her happy too.

The week was a happy, busy one. It passed quickly.

Just like the fact that we were in Hawaii didn't fully hit me until we were in the plane, I didn't think about having to leave until Aria walked us into the security check.
And the full force of the imminent departure came crushing down on me in an instant.
My eyes went warm with tears and it was hard to swallow. I didn't want to talk and give way to my sudden emotion. I tried to hide it, but Aria saw and gave me the biggest hug ever.

It said I love you. I also felt is say I'll see you at Christmas.
Suddenly, Christmas seems forever away.

It's tough to walk away from your big sister.
Knowing she is going to Cambodia and will surely bless the lives of the people there, but acknowledging how different things are going to be. How different things already are. How different we are.
How much better Aria is.

Being in Hawaii with Aria showed me the person that she has become, adding a whole new dimension to the blog/Facebook posts that hinted at her growth.
My big sister Aria is some lady that I'm really going to miss. Those Cambodian Orphans don't know how lucky they are to have her as a teacher.

First for the Senior.

This is the first crown I've made for Senior Year. Getting together with friends to make it was one of the only times that all of us have been at the same place/time together... since the year started.

This is not how I imagined Senior year to be. I only have ONE class with all of my good friends in it. Only one of my friends has lunch with me, the rest have shortened schedules.
The classes are harder, but more enjoyable.
This is also the time when, even if you've known someone for many years.... you realize that you don't really know them at all.

The first time I heard that my friend wanted to be an Elementary School teacher and attend UNR was because a teacher asked her, and I happened to be in the room. Why didn't I know that?

I'm not completely sure what I want to be.... but that doesn't mean that I don't care about the aspirations of others, especially my friends.

The other thing is Homecoming.
My friends are so different than I am.
I clearly remember, at about this time last year, we had the "Stake Priest and Laurel Lake Trip."
None of my friends were able to make it, so I hung out with some of the guys (which is new) in Stake. One of the guys spent a better part of the 5 hour boat trip talking to me about his Homecoming woes. He was telling me how he wanted to ask one of my friends to Homecoming, but found out that she had already been asked...three times. He kept talking, but I was somewhere else. "Why was he talking to ME about this? This girl is my friend, but ... doesn't he realize how much this hurts? He is talking about his woes of wanting to go with a girl who has been asked multiple times to me. I, who have never and will never be asked to a school dance."
 It was something that didn't seem like a huge deal, but something that I haven't forgotten.

Now, a full year later, the topic of Homecoming comes up again. Melissa went Sophomore year, Dawn went twice Junior year ( I still don't know how that worked out), and this year Emily was asked.

But it doesn't happen like all of those stupid Hollywood/High School movies depict it as. The guy who asked Emily is... a real jerk. But she is too much of a sweetheart to say no. Any and all of the rest of us would have answered with an emphatic, "Don't even bother." when this guy said, "What would you say if I were to ask you to Homecoming?'
Yes. Emily is going to Homecoming with a guy, which is something I have never/ will never do. But this guy isn't even really nice to her. Her whole consolation in the affair, is that "At least Dawn will be there." because, Dawn is always asked.

Dawn has always and will always be asked to every school dance that she is old enough to attend. It always kind-of perplexed me. But I was recently alerted to the mind-warping constant and annoying "interactions" she has to deal with. She is constantly badgered about "hanging out" with guys. They have re-scheduled parties so that she could attend. Then something comes up, and she can't go (again), and she never hears the end of it. She is stretched thin between commitments to friends, family, and guys. The texts she receives from guys make a whiny monolog, stupid drama, and call-me-when-you-can-schedule-a-hang-out.
Yes. Dawn gets asked to all of the dances... but she has to deal with this all of the rest of the year.

Melissa has been asked to dances before as well, but not as many. But she doesn't take crap from anyone.
Especially guys. That's what's cool about her.

And then there is  me. I was asked to "The Formal." But that was arranged by a dear friend of mine (Ari) who is dear friends with the guy's Mom. I've said a lot in this post that I have not/ will never be asked to a school dance. This, I regard as the Gospel truth.
But it doesn't make me sad. There are good guys out there... they just happen to be dating other girls who may or may not deserve them. I'm not close with guys. Heck, I only have one brother.

Looking at what other people who do get asked have to deal with... I don't envy anyone.
And that is kind-of an important realization for me.

Different kinds of Paint

I saw an awesome art exhibit. Like REALLY awesome.
 Here are some of my favorites.
https://history.lds.org/artcompetition?lang=eng#/date/10/1
After seeing all of that beauty, I felt super lame getting on the laptop and making this.

I used to do "Paint" on Grandma's computer ALL. THE. TIME.
I even had my own folder... and it was far from empty.
But then she had a flood.
No more paint for Alayna.

Seeing that the new laptop had a newer version of Paint. Instead of a normal paintbrush, you have the option of using oil paint, watercolor, calligraphy, crayons, markers, and spray paint.
 I decided to try it out.
I am not impressed.

This is actually earlier.

Next time I want to paint, I will sit down with a paintbrush in hand and just GO for it.