Hello '11. And then 12.

I've always had this thing with the number 11. At 11:11 I touch the digital clock and make a wish. Eleven is a good number. Ten, meh. 2010 was a hard one for me, I won't pretend otherwise. It started quite terribly. In a funk. It took months to dig myself out of it. I spent the first half of it fearful of turning 30. Much of the year felt like I was slogging through. Surviving. I had some rough classes, some irrational personal fears and worries, I had a bad attitude. It wasn't until summer that I started to perk up a bit. But maybe it was just seasonal affective disorder.

But 2011? Eleven has to be good, right? I feel hopeful about the new year. Alice, the best roommate-friend known to mankind, has been reading this book all about a woman's journey toward greater happiness. Alice loves books like these. From what she's told me, each month of the year this woman set a goal, small and slight, and then proceeded with it for the entire month, and into the next month and the next goal. Each slight improvement became habit. Each made her life feel more pleasant. And I think it is a good idea.

So here you have my 12 goals for the year:

1. January:
Go to bed earlier. Sleep is our friend. This is also my scariest goal.

2. February:
Read your scriptures and write a (minimum of) one sentence statement describing the personal significance of what you read. Every. Single. Day.

3. March:
You're turning 30. Spend each day of this month finding something to celebrate about yourself, your life, your body, your career, your relationships. Sing the song of yourself all month long. Write it down each day.

4. April:
Eat 5-7 servings of fruits and veggies every single day this month.

5. May:
Clean or organize something (a closet or cupboard, a load of laundry, anything) for 10 minutes every day.

6. June:
Move your body (at the gym, dancing in the living room, taking the stairs, hiking, doing some PM yoga) every day this month.

7. July:
Make your bed every day this month.

8. August:
Take a single picture that captures each day of the month.

9. September:
Read something you want to (not for school but for YOU) for a minimum of 10 minutes each day this month.

10. October:
Limit your computer time at home. 30 minutes per day tops. That's it. The exception: if you write a blog post.

11. November:
This is a month of gratitude. Make a statement of something you are grateful for each day of the month, on your blog, on facebook, to the students in your classes, your family, your friends. Appreciate life.

12. December:
This is a month of giving and sacrifice. Find a way each day to sacrifice and serve someone every day this month. It can be as simple as holding the elevator or letting a car merge in. It can be as grand as a service project. Spend each day this month intentionally, mindfully giving of yourself.

So what are your plans for the new year? I'm turning 30 and teaching and going to Cancun. That's all I know for sure. And isn't that the best part of a new year: the potential, the mystery, the hope of something splendid?

Happy 2011, friends!

Light and Dark

I don't share what I believe, what I know to be true, often enough. But I must share this fact: I know that my savior, Jesus Christ, lives. I know He loves me unconditionally. I feel nothing but warmth and encouragement, support and strength from Him. He is, simply put, love in its greatest, most selfless form.

I am imperfect. We are each so imperfect. Yet He is perfect. He came to this world for each of us, to cover for our imperfections. His only motivation: love for us, a love so deep that He only wishes for us to reach our greatest potential. During this season of presents and things and family and friends and light, I must take a moment to acknowledge the greatest light in my life: my knowledge of who I am and what my purpose is in this life. I am here to get better at being me. And this me is an eternal being created by a loving Father and Mother. And the individual who makes it possible for me to improve, to dust off my knees after each stupid mistake is my brother, my savior, Jesus Christ. During this season, I celebrate Him. For where would I be without Him? In this world so often choking with darkness, He is my light.

If you're curious about anything I've written, or anything you viewed, please go here.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

In lieu of blogging, I've been up to some of the following (and please forgive the limitations of my point and shoot--yep, blaming the camera, not the photographer):

I made a gingerbread house. My first ever. From scratch. It was fun and frustrating and messy and the roof may contain a multi-grain club cracker. You'll never know. OK, the roof does have a club cracker--but the solution worked!

Next year, I'm going with the kit...or graham crackers.

I went to these kiddos' Christmas performance.

It was fabulous because THEY are fabulous!

He is kind of a rock star.

She was skipping along with the animated snowman at our favorite little (tacky) pizza place in the hometown.

And then there is this...

We went and saw the lights at Temple Square with the ward.

(Blurry, I know. But lovely nonetheless.)

I love the lights at Temple Square. But they have certainly toned it down in recent years. I remember it being a wonderland of billions of lights when I was a little girl. Every single tree was aglow. Not quite the same, anymore--but still,

one of my favorite holiday traditions.

Our new bishop was recently released as a Conference Center usher. He got us up on the Conference Center roof with his hook ups (OK, he still had his magnetized tag that worked on the elevator).

It was the best possible view. I love this photo! Thanks, Bish!

I'd like to call this one "I WAS ROBBED!"

Because I was. We had a door decorating contest at school with cash prizes and everything. The theme: Winter decor that matches your content area. What could be better than some Robert Frost action

for the English teacher's door?

Store bought decorations do not trump creativity.

That's all I'm saying.

My little 9th graders worked like gangbusters and had to deal with my neurotic, controlling self. My favorite conversation of the great door decorating day (upon discovering a clueless 9th grade boy taping masking tape in giant strips on TOP of the paper--not the little double-sided circle strips BEHIND the decor):

Me: Chayse, WHY are you taping it like that?!?

Chayse: Ummmm...

Me: You need to re-do that. It looks terrible, you can't have the tape showing! Do it like this.

(I demonstrate appropriate taping strategy.)

Chayse: Oh, huh. That makes sense. Oops!

Me: Sheesh! Who raised you?

Chayse: My dad.

Me: It shows! No sense of the aesthetic, whatsoever!

HA! Poor things! Yes, I am a control freak.

Finally, on Thursday we headed back to Temple Square. My dear Momsy scored tickets to the MoTab Christmas concert. David Archuleta was adorable as their guest. Perfect for the holidays!

I kind of love this woman!

Can't tell we're related at all, can you?

Waiting for the show to start.

(My favorite part of this photo: Allyson holding both of our Kindles--our waiting entertainment.)

The traditional "Besties" shot.

Thanks for taking our picture, usher-man.

The set was sweet!

It has been a busy few weeks. But I'm off school for two weeks,

Christmas is coming, snow is flying and I don't have to commute in it at an inhumane hour.

I LOVE this time of year!

Just Another Manic Monday

Dear Clean and Unfolded Laundry,
You have taken up residence on my sofa. The goal is to fix that this evening. I only said it was the goal. I made no promises.

Dear Grocery Store Peeps,
It was really uncool that you put Chicken with Rice cans in the Cream of Chicken soup dispenser. My creamy turkey enchiladas are going to be...fascinating tonight (no thanks to you).

Dear Adolescent Males the World Over,
Nobody (I repeat NOT A SINGLE SOUL) thinks you're as funny as you think you are. I would say I hate breaking that news to you, but the truth is I get a sick kind of pleasure from it.

Dear Boy Who Called Me at 11:30 on a School Night,
Who does that? Did it really take you that long to muster up the courage? Bless your heart.

Dear Purple,
I think I've fallen in love with you. You're a rather dreamy color, you know.

Dear Two Pounds Gained over Thanksgiving,
Do I just accept you until January or try and do something about it? It just feels like such a worthless cause with Christmas around the corner.

Dear Cancun,
I miss you and I've never even met you. April 16th, my love. April 16th.

Dear Snow,
You're like one of those mean girls: you look pretty but deep down inside you're cold, heartless, and bitter.

For Your Monday Viewing Pleasure:

The Thankful List

1. I am filled with gratitude for the people in my life. The friends, the family, the students, the co-workers, even the near-strangers I have "met" through blogging. I am rich with good people. How does one get so lucky, so very blessed?

2. I am grateful for my faith, my beliefs, my knowledge about who I am. I am a daughter of a loving Heavenly Father. I know this to be true. This knowledge fuels and drives me to be better, to have faith in myself and my own potential. It gives me peace and comfort. It is good.

3. I feel so filled with joy knowing I have a career that isn't so bad. In fact, there are moments of magic. Seeing young people grow, feel inspired to do something with themselves is so rewarding. And I get paid to feel like sometimes I make a difference for the better.

4. I am thankful for the beauty of the earth, that on Monday mornings that make the body ache, the sun is rising over the eastern peaks with such breathtaking loveliness I forget I've the work week to face. That snow falls soft and pure and melts and the earth is reborn and flushes green then grows weary and turns vibrant and colorful and the cycle continues. The seasons, the earth, the sky. It is all so exquisite.

5. I am grateful for music and art and lyrical words. Beauty and the aesthetic can be found so readily if one only looks for it.

6. I give thanks for even the frivolous things of life: fashion, sparkly things, tasty food, movies, the internet, commercials that make me giggle.

My life is rich and lovely and full. It would be wrong of me to not step back from every day worry and recognize the blessings so evident. It would be sinful not to do so at Thanksgiving time.

*and thanks for the image found here

Have a lovely holiday, readers.

Celebrity Gone Wrong: In Which I Reveal Myself to Be a Pretentious Snob

Let's get something straight. Most celebrities these days aren't all that talented. But their lack of any true performance ability exists in mediums which I tend to avoid: reality television, bad movies, auto-tuned crap music. So I tolerate their presence and focus my attention on what I deem as real performers and artists.

But these individuals who have "the look" if nothing else cross the line when they wet their talentless toes in the sacred waters of the novel.

I'm referring, in case you wondered, to this abomination (discovered while perusing Borders Friday evening):

(Pretty cover, I'm going to go ahead and guess not much substance based on the "author.")

And don't even get me started on this girl:

(Really? I mean--really?)

I just don't think "Duff played the precocious Lizzie Maguire" or "Conrad lived in 'reality' television prior to..." looks so good on the author bio when others in the profession actually graduated with an MFA, understand the nuance within the written word, and can form a sentence without the frequent interjection like (as in "He is like totally like not like listening to like me"). I just wonder who in the publishing world is keeping the gate. Because their A$$ needs to be canned.

*Brussels Sprouts, Beauty, Blooming, Attraction, and Other Musings Which I Can't Quite Make Sense Of

Last week, I caught the end of Marie Osmond's appearance on Oprah. She'd been talking about her son's suicide, but then proceeded to talk about her second marriage. She said something really insightful: "You marry at the level your self confidence is at."

***

Today I received an email from a friend with a link to a youtube version of "It's Raining Men." She was half-teasing/half-celebrating with me about my recent uptick in the dating/interested male department. But, oh. How I preferred the nonexistent dating life, the invisibility factor. If only because I was comfortable there. If only because my girlfriends are these incredible, accomplished, brilliant individuals. My dates and the boys who show interest are lost and wandering. Too frequently undereducated, "in between things," goal-less, directionless, without a place. Their potential, be it because of the economy or society or expectations or the subculture or the new iffy definition of "man," has been thwarted, misdirected, not achieved.

***

I have discovered recently that I'm not half bad looking. At 29 I've figured out this new layer of myself that feels simultaneously empowering and weakening. This was supposed to happen 15 years ago. But it is happening now. It is a gift, in a sense. At 29 I have a greater ability to process this phenomenon than my 15 year old self would have. It is also, at times, embarrassing. It is clumsy. Most women my age have this sense of self mastered. Most women my age figured this out long ago and have moved on to mastering motherhood. I'm blooming late.


***

My date--that date I told you about--he (teasingly, but that doesn't excuse it) called me a snob. And he was cheap. So cheap it was uncomfortable for me, for the waitress. He didn't perceive things the way I did--he didn't see that it was simply a not-so-good date. He called me back later that weekend. And texted. And it was so very awful and uncomfortable. And I couldn't help but wonder how one gets to 33 and still behaves as he does. I couldn't wonder how I've gotten to 29 and am still unsure how to let a guy down gently.

***

Sunday, a family came to hear one of the speakers in sacrament with their sweet new baby. The squishy, soft, fresh kind of baby. The kind of baby that makes you question why they're bringing him into public at this time of year when he is so new. They sat right in front of me. I ached.

***

My mother thinks I'm picky. She doesn't say it out loud, but when men come up in conversation she says things that let me know she thinks I'm too hard on them. I think she wants more babies in her life. All my siblings' children are grown past toddlerhood. No more babies. I'm her last hope. She once said she and my father don't worry as much because I have a career. But she does worry.

***

Last night at a Relief Society function, a member of our bishopric, an incredibly funny and clever dentist, talked about the parable of the talents. About how amazing we women are. About how men need women like us because they wander aimlessly, cluelessly without us. We are what they need to become men, not boys. It was a joke, but funny in its honesty.

***

I'm feeling my way through this new path that is also so old. It is strange and saddening. Exciting. Discouraging. It is wrought with sub-cultural quirks and expectations. I am convinced that it is, in so many ways, a gift that I've made it to this place in my life without marrying. I am more aware of who I am as a person. My priorities are more focused. I know what I want, which traits are deal breakers, which characteristics and baggage I am willing to let slide. I feel so blessed in a life rich with friends and family and lovely, lovely students (sans 9th grade boys). That fact alone means I am not panicked or rushed or willing to settle.

***

I am patient in so many ways, but far more impatient. The roommate spoke in sacrament recently all about having faith and that faith bringing us joy each day of our journey. She is my best friend for a reason--so much more wise and humble than I am. I am trying, always, to have faith that the Father in Heaven I so completely believe in is far more aware of what my life needs than I am. I am quite certain of that because I see this person I've become and she is beautiful, intelligent, kind, loving, open-hearted. She is nowhere near where I thought she'd be at this point in time. But she possesses so many of the qualities my young self wished her to have. She is surrounded by people she cares about. She is blessed. My little life thus far is nothing I would have designed once upon a time, and yet it is so correct, so right for me.

*For the definition of this reference, go here.