Saturday, March 31, 2012
that time of year.
It only comes twice a year ... But it is twice so I can't complain. I love General Conference. It is so uplifting, so renewing, so relevant, and so personal. It is for everyone. I am so grateful for a living prophet in these days... In my days. I need that Prophetic guidance and counsel. I was reminded today that I have a testimony, a knowledge, that there is a prophet on the earth, that it is presently Thomas S. Monson, and that he is the mouthpiece for the Lord. So grateful and awestruck I am by this knowledge. The lord truly loves His children.
Monday, January 30, 2012
blogs & spies
BLOGS: I haven't blogged in forever. Not because I haven't had tons of things to say but because I've just been blog lazy. I'm trying to do better. I really have so many things to say that I'm sure the world wide web is just dying to hear... or umm... read.
SPIES: So the plural of the word spy looks really weird to me. But, this is not why I am choosing to blog about spies. Recently I had a conversation with one of my dearest friends... the one with short dark curly hair who shall remain nameless.... about being noticed and remembered. See, I can meet someone on say a Tuesday and have my hair down. The next day, a Wednesday, I can have my hair pulled up into a pony tail and meet the same person and it's like they've never met me before. I kid you not. People usually don't believe me until they've seen it happen. But, my curly dark haired friend who shall remain nameless is remembered everywhere. We went furniture shopping for her this weekend and sales people she met over a week ago remember her. In one store the clerk remembered what she had been shopping for several weeks prior right down to the size and color of the item. I've never seen anything like it. I decided her life must be what it's like for the rich and famous. (Of course she is not my first friend with this problem... hmmm... Dinahmite). You can't go anywhere without being recognized. But my life is like that of a spy. All I have to do is put on a pair of glasses, part my hair down the middle, and suddenly I'm a totally different person. I can move in and out of spaces without being remembered or sometimes even seen. Too bad I don't have some cool power like the ability to fly.... then I could "take it to the next level" and become a superhero.
SPIES: So the plural of the word spy looks really weird to me. But, this is not why I am choosing to blog about spies. Recently I had a conversation with one of my dearest friends... the one with short dark curly hair who shall remain nameless.... about being noticed and remembered. See, I can meet someone on say a Tuesday and have my hair down. The next day, a Wednesday, I can have my hair pulled up into a pony tail and meet the same person and it's like they've never met me before. I kid you not. People usually don't believe me until they've seen it happen. But, my curly dark haired friend who shall remain nameless is remembered everywhere. We went furniture shopping for her this weekend and sales people she met over a week ago remember her. In one store the clerk remembered what she had been shopping for several weeks prior right down to the size and color of the item. I've never seen anything like it. I decided her life must be what it's like for the rich and famous. (Of course she is not my first friend with this problem... hmmm... Dinahmite). You can't go anywhere without being recognized. But my life is like that of a spy. All I have to do is put on a pair of glasses, part my hair down the middle, and suddenly I'm a totally different person. I can move in and out of spaces without being remembered or sometimes even seen. Too bad I don't have some cool power like the ability to fly.... then I could "take it to the next level" and become a superhero.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
25 at 33
Even though I still feel like a 20something I know I'm getting older. I have gray hair. My body weight is shifting and, unfortunately, sticking around. The other morning I was watching the news while putting on makeup. Something funny was said and I realized that I'm getting the first hints of laugh lines and wrinkles. Now I've always had a baby face and people usually think I look younger than I am but for the first time I have started to see my "age". I have creaky bones, I like to stay in more than go out, and I think missionaries look like they are 12.
Despite obvious signs of aging I have found another phenomenon to occurring. Because I am not married people assume I am in my mid twenties. Yet, I have some friends who are in their mid twenties, who are married, and people assume they are in their early thirties. It's so weird. The age increases for those married couples who have kids. The phenomenon occurs even when the individual is 10 years my junior. It is so bizarre. I definitely don't look younger than they do but somehow my not having a husband or kids automatically puts me in the young category. Don't get me wrong... I'm fine with people wanting to think I am a mid twenty something. But, I'm also fine with being 33. Getting old hasn't started to get me down... yet. I hope it never does. I like birthdays way too much.
Despite obvious signs of aging I have found another phenomenon to occurring. Because I am not married people assume I am in my mid twenties. Yet, I have some friends who are in their mid twenties, who are married, and people assume they are in their early thirties. It's so weird. The age increases for those married couples who have kids. The phenomenon occurs even when the individual is 10 years my junior. It is so bizarre. I definitely don't look younger than they do but somehow my not having a husband or kids automatically puts me in the young category. Don't get me wrong... I'm fine with people wanting to think I am a mid twenty something. But, I'm also fine with being 33. Getting old hasn't started to get me down... yet. I hope it never does. I like birthdays way too much.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
to Cry Baby with love, L.O. Annie
When I was young I wanted to be little orphan Annie. I loved her curly red hair. I got a perm to look just like her when I was 6, but the perm burnt my hair and I had had my same straight hair in a boy cut. Awesome.
My love for curly red hair has not changed. I love it. I want it. I'll settle for curly hair. Or deep auburn red. But I really want the combo. Is that too much to ask?
Beauty desires aside, today I felt like a cry baby. One of those days where you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, get stuck behind the train, forget your purse, get to work late, spill on your white shirt, and that is all before 9:00am... kind of days. One of those days where the before 9:30am part of the day is the highlight of your day. I threw myself a pity party at 10:30am and again at 11:47am and another one around 2:00pm-ish. But I didn't stop there. I fully engaged in a whine-a-thon around 5:43pm before realizing that the day was almost over and I just might live to see tomorrow. Around 8:22pm my Little Orphan Annie side had a brief but meaningful convo with my Cry Baby side, and then I allowed myself to drown away stupid head Thursday in mind numbing TV. I'm over my Cry Baby moment and have put away my violin. Pity party done... mostly in part to the pep talk and a little bit to the TV. :) Here is my pep talk in case you ever have one of THOSE stupid head days.
Dear Cry Baby.
Suck. It. Up. It's not that bad. You could be a starving child in Africa. You could be taking cover in a war torn country. You could be back in middle school. So you woke up on the wrong side of the bed and got stuck behind the train and forgot your purse and spilled something all over yourself before 9:00am. So what? At least you have a bed, and a car, and you only live 5 minutes from the office, and the TIDE stain stick that worked like a charm. So the rest of the day was rough. So what?! You had a tough day but it was a full day and you get to have another day. Buck up. Shake it off. Let it go and press forward. And guess what? The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun.
With love.
L.O. Annie
My love for curly red hair has not changed. I love it. I want it. I'll settle for curly hair. Or deep auburn red. But I really want the combo. Is that too much to ask?
Beauty desires aside, today I felt like a cry baby. One of those days where you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, get stuck behind the train, forget your purse, get to work late, spill on your white shirt, and that is all before 9:00am... kind of days. One of those days where the before 9:30am part of the day is the highlight of your day. I threw myself a pity party at 10:30am and again at 11:47am and another one around 2:00pm-ish. But I didn't stop there. I fully engaged in a whine-a-thon around 5:43pm before realizing that the day was almost over and I just might live to see tomorrow. Around 8:22pm my Little Orphan Annie side had a brief but meaningful convo with my Cry Baby side, and then I allowed myself to drown away stupid head Thursday in mind numbing TV. I'm over my Cry Baby moment and have put away my violin. Pity party done... mostly in part to the pep talk and a little bit to the TV. :) Here is my pep talk in case you ever have one of THOSE stupid head days.
Dear Cry Baby.
Suck. It. Up. It's not that bad. You could be a starving child in Africa. You could be taking cover in a war torn country. You could be back in middle school. So you woke up on the wrong side of the bed and got stuck behind the train and forgot your purse and spilled something all over yourself before 9:00am. So what? At least you have a bed, and a car, and you only live 5 minutes from the office, and the TIDE stain stick that worked like a charm. So the rest of the day was rough. So what?! You had a tough day but it was a full day and you get to have another day. Buck up. Shake it off. Let it go and press forward. And guess what? The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun.
With love.
L.O. Annie
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