alazon.

In my Literature of Love class last semester I had the opportunity to be taught by a man who spent a good portion of his life abroad and was deeply educated in the literature and theater of other cultures.   He spent a good time in Russia and Europe and in addition to teaching on campus, leads the British Literature tour each summer.  In class one day, we had a lecture on stock characters and common themes in writing.  We learned some new terms that I hadn't knows before, but that have kind of given me some new motivation and a new foundation on which to build a better self :

Alazon: In the theatre of ancient Greece, alazôn (Ancient Greek: ἀλαζών) is one of three stock characters in comedy.^[1] He is the opponent of the eirôn. The alazôn is an impostor that sees himself as greater than he actually is. The senex iratus (the heavy father) and the miles gloriosus (the boasting soldier) are two types of alazôn.^[2]

Eiron: In the theatre of ancient Greece, the eirôn (Ancient Greek: εἴρων) was one of three stock characters in comedy.^[1] The eirôn usually succeeds in bringing his braggart opponent (the alazôn) down by making himself seem like less than he actually was.^[2]

Basically we learned that the Alazon is someone who tends to promise more than they can deliver and falls short; the Eiron is someone who will go above and beyond what the audience assume they are capable of and do something great--an underdog basically.

I haven't always been the best at keeping my promises to people and following through with things I say I will do--I never intentionally lie, but I get busy and bogged down and stressed out and anxious and... well you get it.  It's kind of a wake up call when you realize you have character traits usually associated with a downfall.  I've heard it said that "we are all masterpieces that just need a little more time".  I believe it is true.  I also believe it is really amazing how much you can learn about yourself through other people's stories.

I'm sick of never following through with what I say I am going too, or getting too busy and forgetting about things.  I've tried to do lists, multiple planners, sticky notes, and writing on my hand.  They help, but my mouth still tends to get ahead of my accomplishments at times.  I already set my sights this semester on three E's (exercise, eternity, and education) but I am adding to my already ambitious list of semester goals and proposing this to myself:  Don't say something unless you think you can REALLY do it, and if you do say it... try to REALLY accomplish it. 

No more half assed lives.

 

Dear Friends,

This semester is already busier than any other so far--but I love it. I made a goal on my 21st birthday to let this semester be about Education, Eternity, and Exercise. It's all going really well and according to plan but it also means there are some sacrifices i am having to make: between doing p90x every day, reading 24 books this semester, getting up at 6 each morning to exercise, trying to make time to study the scriptures and meditate each day, and going to bed early it doesn't leave much time to play anymore. I'm happier than I've been in a while, but I'm so busy I don't have much time for peeps.

I miss you all dearly and hope to find time to see you--it's not looking too promising but I will do my best.

Love,
Taff.

808

I miss you

I can't wait to see you again

... I have made some changes I think you will appreciate.

creative writing final. summer2010

Now I know How to Save a Life

He was a mess, roasting in the hot summer sun—completely helpless and alone. He had come from the sky like a fallen angel and he lay there, on the hot sidewalk, waiting for death to take him. People had been passing him all day, people too busy with their mundane lives to pay him any more attention that “poor thing” or “how sad” before they went on their busy way. He had fallen from his home and was a stranger in a foreign land with no mother, no knowledge of this outside world, and no way of ever making it home on his own.

She was an animal lover by nature (maybe that’s why her mother didn’t try to reason with her or tell her ‘no’). She was on her way back to her mom’s dusty silver van, ready to leave her horse at the fair for the night. She was satisfied with the animal’s water level and comfort so with one last kiss to Cricket’s velvety nose she was down the aisle and out the door. She was I, and still is; maybe just a newer, better version thanks to him.

My fingers still tingled with the heat from the necks of the other horses I had patted on my way out of the barn and were covered in a thin layer of dirt and grime, It looked like I had just eaten a bag of grey and brown Cheetos. I passed the last row of stalls and walked through the door to the outside world. The plastic werewolf (dubbed “wolfman”) from a taco bell kids meal eaten over a year ago was still there. He was zip-tied to the antenna of my mom’s van—right where I had originally put him—a failed practical joke. As I got closer to the car he came into sharp focus: light brown with tattered black pants and no shirt—like the incredible hulk. That was when we met.

“Mom!”…”MOM!!”

“What!?”

“Mom, there’s a baby bird!”

“What?”

“A baby bird! It fell out of its nest… what do we do?”

My mom knew me well enough to understand that we did have to do something; I would never leave something like that entirely up to the fates to decide an outcome. Over the span of my relatively short live (12 or 13 years), our house has been a foster home to bunnies, birds, snakes, quail, ducks, butterflies, turtles, and anything else I could catch—and I was good at catching things. My mom knew if I found something I loved I was not eager to let it go. It’s strange to think I could love something after only having it a few moments, but I did. I loved Max, and I would only grow to love him even more. So, less than an hour later this stranger to our world had a home, a family, and a name.

Max, like any baby, needed constant care and attention. The Internet provided me with a list of ingredients needed to make food for a baby bird, and a digital alarm clock provided me with a regular feeding schedule for him. Not one to ever get up before the sun, I found myself up just hours after midnight to feed Max. “I guess there is logic behind the saying ‘up with the birds’ I thought to myself one morning as I cut the tip of a McDonalds straw by the dim glow of the refrigerator light to make a small straw for my new pet, it was still dark outside and all the earth was still quiet and still. As I walked back into my room, I heard that he was already awake. “Peep, peep, peep?” Max would ask, his bald head back, he looked just like the every baby bird I had ever seen on T.V. asking their moms for food. “PEEP! PEEP! He would continue once he was food was coming. That was the routine ever few hours for days on end: Max would cry and I would feed him.

His home, a spare storage bin with a missing top, had been fitted with a heat lamp, blanket, and a makeshift grass nest. His nest had to be changed daily, his home cleaned out every other. The cat had to be kept at a safe distance and my bedroom door had to be kept shut—at all times. Zuzu (the family dog) liked Max well enough to let him sit on her head, but not so much that she showed any real interest in him.

Max grew fast and came everywhere the family went. This included a weekend trip to the cabin that happened to coincide perfectly with the day Max learned to fly: It had been raining all day and no one wanted to go outside. We had already exhausted the movie collection we brought up with us and the storm was messing up the satellite so we couldn’t really watch T.V. either, some of the adults sat in the den reading, some took naps on the couches. The kids all gathered around the dinner table to play a card game by the poor light of the fan/light combo that hung above, extra chairs has been brought in off the screen porch to fit everyone. The fan blades cut slowly through the air sending down a gentle breeze that made stray hairs wave like broken spider webs. We were in the middle of our third round of Uno! When it happened. Before any of us could really register what exactly it was that had just happened, Max was perched on the painting on the wall and Tracey (a family friend) was in the typical duck and cover position—both arms over his head. I sat dumbstruck for a few seconds trying to figure out how Max could have possibly got there until it hit me. Max flew, he flew! “Max flew!” I cried out while trying to capture him—a more difficult task now that he had been liberated from gravities hold.

Between strings around yellow legs to keep Max from flying away, first baths in Frisbees and awkwardly trying to convince bugs to leap into his gaping mouth with a demanding peep (after all, that worked when he asked me for food, so why not them?) it was a weekend of growth and memories.

From that day, Max was growing and making changes daily. Within a few days of returning home from the cabin he could fly well enough that the spiteful housecat was getting to be a hazard. When Max went fully aerial, he was relocated to the backyard. The front door had to be carefully monitored for the sake of visitors unaccustomed to wild birds landing on their heads upon reaching the front steps. I was out the door before they were even out of their cars, gathering Max form various heads, shoulders, and backs. “Please don’t hurt him! He’s mine!” I would say. Mine, and he was, we had a special bond; he belonged to me and I belonged to him.

Max still had to be fed a few times a day, but now the routine was a little different: I would go out into the yard with his food and McDonald’s straw spoon and call for him, he would fly to me and I would feed him. When he was full he would fly off and perch in a nearby tree. Eventually Max came home fewer times a day; the day he stopped coming home altogether was a heavy one. I searched all the trees in the backyard as well as the neighbor’s yards. I called him, but he never came. “Max!” No answer, no peep, no sound of wings. I stayed outside for a long time looking at the sky, I wasn’t looking for him anymore, just at where he was. I understood that Max had flown home; he had risen out of the ashen state I found him in to new life.

I still think about Max when I see other starlings around town or even out here at school in Idaho. I wonder if he ever found a mate or had babies of his own. I wonder for their safety and hope that none of them ever fell out of the nest but mostly I wonder how the world is different because of him. I wonder what line of birds I saved and what lineage was continued because a little girl cared enough to bring home a baby bird instead of just saying “how sad” and walking past him like so many others. I know it probably won’t be the determining factor of anything major in my life and that in a grander spectrum it’s pretty insignificant, but I also know that I know how to save a life and I think that maybe that counts for something.

this is an expirement

twenty.1

throwback.

thought process.

For my 21st birthday my parents took me to go see Wicked in Minneapolis. It is the second time I have seen it (the first being in LDN). I loved it all over again. Like the first time, I have had defying gravity in my head again and again and again all.day.long.
While wishs of being able to sing like that crowd nearly ever corner of my head there is a little left over room for one single line:
"And if I'm flying solo, at least I am flying free".

I am not immune to the appeal of the unobtainable, I do want what I can't have, but I am also infatuated with the ability to dream and live and feel like I have acomplished the impossible.
Considering some of the low points I put myself through this past year I have in some way defied my own gravity that I created for myself.

I use to think I was one of those kids who was lucky enough to always know exactly who they were, what they wanted, and where they were going. Mohawks, Pink hair and chains were an outward manefesto of everything I knew I was and knew I wanted to be.
Since my present state is lacking all of the above, some questions naturally developed on their own in responce: where did it go? No more pink hair? No more chains and lace and studs? If that is who I AM... what happened?

A few months ago I realized I knew who I had been (and even who I was) but I was not who I NEEDED to be.

I though that being older never felt any different...
I was wrong... I'm 21 and I do feel different.
I feel more alive.
I feel lighter (and not just becasue I am loosing weight).

Maybe I am defying gravity


I believe that inspiration is around us everywhere
I believe the best way to find yourself is to get lost
I believe time away from technology is necessary
I believe that dogs are man's best friend
I believe that we are capable of way more
I believe in music
I believe when you are close to god the rest falls into place

I want to go back to Rome
I want to to back to Paris
I want to serve a mission
I want to join the peace corps
I want to see new lights





Maybe my mind has an autoLIEogrophy on loop that I made for myself--a perfect life, created and written for myself. Maybe sometimes it is better than real life. Maybe revenge is a dish best served cold and is always in stock in my mind. Maybe I have the balls to tell people what I really think. maybe I want to hurt the people that have hurt me. Maybe I back down to easily from a fight. Maybe.
BUT, I do know how to dream and how to trust and that revenge may be best when served cold, but that cold dishs aren't too heart warming and that fighting fire with fire only leads to out of control passion.

A past version of myself would probably tell you differently, but in all honesty the worst thing that happened to me summer 08 was that I found out the Jonas Brothers covered "year 3000", and the worst thing that happened to me winter 2010 was that I didn't get to take a snowboarding class. I'm greatful for heartache and failed crushes and for the things they have taught me and the lifes they have saved me from.
A new spin on things is always a fresh and welcome change and winter 2011 is a new oportunity.



(p.s. this is what is going on in my mind 24/7... no wonder I have so much trouble sleeping and paying attention sometimes...)

twenty.1

7 or 8 months behind all my friends--like always--I am finally 21 (and not looking forward to my new license with a new and heinous picture)...
I haven't gone to bed yet so I haven't gotten to wake up on my birthday morning yet, but I am predicting I won't feel any different when I do. My mom did clean off Christine's bed though so I can wake up on my birthday in a bed instead of on a couch.

I also get to eat sweets and bake cupcakes all day long with my mama and Mandie. AND I get to go visit a lady in our wards chickens and maybe even get a shiny new purple phone. (There were no pink ones).

There's really nothing I want for my birthday and my parents have helped me out so much with school and my eurotrip this past year I don't really need anything else.

We are however going to the cities tomorrow to eat some fancy food and see wicked.

Cupcakes.
Mexican food.
Wicked.

what more do I need on my birffday?

new.

For everyone that remembers me like this:



















I have made some changes...





















however, thizz is still what it izzz

I just set them up to knock them down

A lot of new things are going to happen this week:
-i am going to be blond
-i am going to be 21
-i am going on my first cross country road trip without parents

It's kind of wild that I am almost 21, I am super excited for my birthday even though it's not going to be very wild--as far as 21st b-days go.....
Since starting my diet I have decided that I will eat treats only on the first of each month--that way I can celebrate my birthday, Canada day, new years and all the other major events the year brings. This being said my birthday is cupcake day!!! I also get to go see wicked in the cities with my parents and get a new license. ballin'

peace out twenty, we had some good times. You took me to Europe and helped me through some lows. You also let me realize there were a few times I smoked the whole rock: never again.

ATL and N.C

Today I had to get up so early it wasn't even bright out yet;  I'm talkin' like three a.m.  We're going to ATL today to go to the AQUARIUM and then driving up to North Carolina tomorrow!  I am so excited, I love the south. I don't know what treasures Tutu had in store for us this time, but I can promise you then will entail driving through the mountains of North Carolina, pointing out ever Christmas tree farm we see and visiting every relative within a 50 mile radius.  We'll probably also see some cows, baby goats, peacocks, and BULLDOG PUPPIES!!!!!

Part Two: Fat roll

While I was in europe I gained about 10 pounds due to french pastries, italian pasta, and everything in between. I can also tell aldifference in my body since I've started eating white meat again. Although my mom told me "at least it's a European fat roll!" the truth is I just want to look like a Pussy Cat Doll.

I have started the slim fast diet since being home and have seen some results, but now I am taking the next step. I'm down about 7 pounds on a good day.

Tomorrow me and my MN bestie, Mandie, are starting p90x (round one for me; two for her) and after watching results vids on youtube for like an hour I am super amped! I am also tracking my progress on a sub-blog!

My life on the D list

After watching Kathy Lee Griffith judge toddler pageants the other day I had the latest episode is a series of epiphanies I have been having lately. They started in France under the Eiffel tower, got really intense in Italy and continued through Austria, and into Spain. From there, they followed me all the way back to America and now to Minnesota. They consisted of realizations about how greatly expansive the human capacity to create and learn and help is and also provided me with a tidbit of what there really is out there for me. It's a terrible tragedy to realize you are nearly 21 years old and living an extremely blessed life that a lot of people around the world would die to live in, and I merely deign to exist in.

I'm sick of letting my anxiety build a colorless life around me that I am forced to live in. It might be true that people will always be as stupid as they were in High School, but that doesn't mean I have to be one of them. It's time to shake my demons for good and reinvent myself and let it be. The past, like all things that are not with us anymore, should remain buried--in the past. Learn from it, yes, and cherish the good times like precious treasures, but don't dwell on it or let it be your glory days. This is my path to self-reincarnation and rebirth and the first step commences in about half an hour.

I have three physical goals and three spiritual/personality goals that I have set for myself to pave the way to who I think I need to be and who I want to be (concluding as well as I can that this too is who God wants and needs me to be.)

I'm sick of putting myself on the D-list in my own life, so I'm about to take action and get on my own A-List. I might not get on other peoples, but after all it's one mountain at a time. Rome wasn't built in a day, but I can tell you first hand the end result is totally worth it--even the skeletal ruins of what it once was are worth the extra effort.

UPDATE (2:46 P.M.):
Phase one of Part one:

THIS:














to THIS:

Be Your Own Hero.

This past year has been a bit of a whirl wind, but it's brought me some of the greatest insights I have ever had. It brought me to my knees, my sences, tears, Europe, MN, and just about everywhere else inbetween.

I'm almost 21 and about ready to go back out to school for one more semester, one more fall, one more batch of roommates, one more credit load, one more set of roommates, one more chance to grow.

It's really kind of amazing where life takes you when you stop trying to resist.

MN

I'm home! For just about a month, but still it's a break and I am home.
I've got no bed, but sleeping on the couch means I finally get a TV in my room.

$#!%&*

I really like school and really do like learning a lot lot lot.  I actually do like reading my text books when I actually get around to it and I like making flash cards and studying.  I like writing and I like going home after a long day in the library.  I forget I enjoy these things at times and most of the time other things are more instantly entertaining (animal planet, hannah montana, playing with friends, and driving on the back roads to see the stars).   As much as I like School,sometimes I'm not very good at it.   I know that I'm smart because both of my parents are and I inherited it from them.  I understand things and I have common sense, but sometimes I fell like that's about it... I have no application skills and can't prioritize to save my life.  I have to read really slowly or I can't understand what I am reading; it's impossible for me to understand historic or political things... of any nature.  I try hard but I always feel like i come up short--throw my anxiety spells into the mix and some super-lame "friends" and it's about as low as I have ever been.  (Screw you guys.)

The crazy thing is that I am not in a low cycle right now at all, in fact I'm about as happy as I have ever been, I just wish people would stop telling me dating is more important than missions or that I need to date and that girls who go on mission don't try hard enough at dating and go on a mission as a cop out.  Marriage IS important, I know that but what if i am not suppose to get married yet?  People can serve lots of different kinds of missions, well, what if I am supose to go on one through the church.  If there are as many kinds of missions as there are hearts out there, then why not as many timeframes and situations in which to get married.  Just because I want to go on a mission and join the peace corps before i get married DOESNT MAKE ME A BAD PERSON SO STOP MAKING ME FEEL LIKE IT DOES!!!!!!!!!!  What if i want to do this so i can be a better mother to my kids?  What if President Hinckley SAID the lord needs his young women to serve mission now more than ever and that is why the numbers are going up so fast.  Gets your facts straight first and don't you ever try and tell me how to live my life.  What if this IS right for me?  Lay off me; I'm fragile damn it!  (Maybe none of that is even really what they say, but that's what i hear.)  

I try dating and having good friendships with boys but it never works out for me and I get intimidated easily by certain people who i won't name here because i don't believe in public call outs.  But good riddance at the same time.  I just stress out and hate myself when I get into things like that.  Who wants to do that?  Hell no.  Not me.  I finally like the girl in the mirror and don't want to go back to a time when I don't so I'm not even trying to let some boy take me there.  Not havin' it.

I try hard to keep up with the friends I do actually like and the ones that do help me feel good about myself and help me grow and see my potential, but it's hard when some of them don't do much in reciprocating.  Why can't they ever come see me?  The only way I EVER get to see half my friends is if I go to them.  Sure I have a car and they don't but half the time I walk there anyways.  It's not a bad things to walk!

I do have a couple really solid friends who come visit me and call me and it goes both ways, for them I am truly grateful. 

And honestly, yes, I could be better about asking people if they will play with me.  I am trying to reach outside my comfort zone and grow but I can't fix everything at once.

On top of all of this spinning a millions miles an hour in my head, I'm trying to do what i can to  prepare for a mission, get through the book of mormon for the first time (I'm so lame) and not fail my lit final tomorrow.

Maybe doing this entry isn't the best use of time right now but I am too tired from trying to stay up all night last night to study and too stressed out from all of the above to be able to understand what I am reading anymore.   The short version:  I don't like block classes.  I don't think I would even like to read (or be able to read) Anna Karenina (which is a good 800 pages), Wuthering Heaights (about 300), Much ado About Noting, The importance of being earnest, Tristan and Iseult, and the songs of soloman in a regualr semester let alone 5 weeks and some odd days.  I can't remember who says what quotes in book so I never do good in the tests (even when i try and be responsible and and skip my favorite band's FREE show in SLC to study and read).

I'm totally just having a pity party but I'm so over school right now.  7 months straight is not much fun at all.

DONT EVER DO FAST TRACK BYUI BUDDIES!!!

I am so grateful for Europe and still think about it every day.  I love my parents for letting me go entirely for fun.  Europe=dream. 

I wish i could live in Europe and forget about school for a while.  It's hard growing up and trying to be responsible.  I haven't even REALLY mentioned my experiences trying to date yet and seeing all of your friends get engaged while you don't even ever get asked out (and having people make me feel BAD about it--like morally on top of feeling bad worthless.).  BYU kind of sucks and makes you go a little crazy at times, but I know i needed to go here out of high school to get my head on straight. I guess what I am thinking lately is maybe I am done here now and ready for something a little different.

I'm not the best at telling people what I really think if I think it might upset them or if i feel like they won't even listen which is a lot of the time now that I try and be more honest with people and myself..

I'm sick of people who gossip because it makes it really hard for me to stick to my ever lasting goal to stop.  I'm sick of people who smile like we're friends then sabotage my life.  I'm sick of people who only complain.  BE HAPPY!  Seriously, look around you.  Idaho is beautiful, you are healthy, you aren't diseased or bed ridden.  You are a child of GOD and he makes it rain blessing on you every day so be grateful.  Don't sweat the small stuff.  The race is long and hard, but in the end it is only with yourself so set a slower pace and enjoy life a little more.

Basically this whole entry is to say: Mom and Dad, I am sorry my lit grade will probably be a C.  I tried hard, true I could have done better most likely, but I really did try hard and since Narnia still refuses to exist I don't have heaps of extra time on my hands.  I tried your new study techniques mom, but I literally ran out of time this weekend between homework, packing, cleaning, and helping Beki make a welcome home poster for Dallin.  Maybe charity is developing in me too fast, but more likely I like to find positive alternatives to hours and hours  of homework and studying.  I try to do what you guys taught me and always put others first and help out where I can while will being responsible about school work and stay out of trouble.... but it's not always easy.  Thanks for all you do for me Mom and Dad and for all you help me with, even if time after time I come up short.  I know my worth isn't determined my the ticket stubs in my wallet or the cd's in my car or even the marks on my report card and I am grateful you two are so patient with me when I don't do as well as you would like me to.  We already talked about this all Mom, and I just miss home i guess.  I miss you and Dad and I just wanna be the H out of here for a few weeks.  

Love,

Katie

p.s. don't forget to being stinky to the airport.

An unwritten life

I feel so much of the time like life is just going through the motions and falling into patterns; I'm not exactly crazy about it either...

I've tried to take the reigns so many times and have gotten a lot better since Europe, but I still fall short. a lot.

I want to live the life i was put here for and not the life others put me up to or expect from me.

This summer I am going to get running shoes for my birffday so i can start running. I am also going to do b work out everyday, and stop eating junk food for real this time.... I always try adn make it a few weeks then feel weird around others when they all eat it and offer it to me. But in all reality... who cares. it's my body and my life and i want to be fit.
The next time i eat junk food it will be cake on my birffday!

new obsession

Love this boy.

fresh ink.

I would never actually do it, but lately I have been wanting a new tattoo really badly.  I want an outline of MN and a swallow and lyrics.  If i wasn't Mormon I am positive I would have at least those and probably more, along with a nose rind and monroe.