General Conference = My New Year

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions. In the first place, I've been a student for the last 20 years of my life, and January 1st never seemed as much the beginning of the year as say, August 25th or so. In addition, January is in the middle of the winter. What about winter possibly symbolizes anything new? Besides, New Year's resolutions have always felt cliche to me. Everyone makes New Year's resolutions, and what for? Because everyone else does. I suppose there are a few people out there that are truly inspired to change by the beginning of the new year, but I think a lot of us just make something up so we have something to say when someone asks us what we have resolved for the new year.

I do, however, believe in General Conference resolutions. I absolutely love having the opportunity to listen to the leaders of the church as they speak on matters relevant to our day. I get to sit on my couch, notebook and pen in hand, and write down the words of the prophets and any inspiration that comes my way. As a result of the spiritual high that I get during General Conference, I feel a deep and genuine desire to be a better person and try a little bit harder in life. Mary N. Cook (of the General Young Women's Presidency) spoke about the birth of her granddaughter (I believe it was her granddaughter), Ruby, and how she encouraged Ruby's mother to teach her to be a virtuous woman. The mother replied "I am starting today." Obviously, I don't have a daughter to teach about virtue, but I was really struck by the words "I am starting today." It's really easy for me to get caught up in what I'm doing wrong and sometimes it feels really hard to change my habits and behaviors. From now on, I need to stop myself and just say "I am starting today". So what if I've had a hard time with whatever for days, weeks, or even months? Today is a new day, and I can start all over again. I heard somewhere that no matter what our pasts are, our futures are spotless. I am so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father that forgives me when I repent and gives me another chance to be the best person that I can be. I know that I would be very lost without the guidance of the Holy Ghost in my life to stay on the right path. I am grateful for the temple covenants that I have made and for the blessings I receive when I attend regularly.

There were so many wonderful talks during Conference, and I can't wait to get the Ensign next month and go over the talks all over again. I just love General Conference.

Godzilla Skin: Sentimental or Just Plain Ugly?

Once there was a green Godzilla handbag - oh, wait, maybe you need more background than that. When I was younger, we had a Godzilla...toy. He was too big for a figurine, yet too macho for a doll, so I guess toy fits the best. Anyway, this Godzilla toy was the spitting image of the infamous lizard. He had spikes going down his back and tail, menacing claws, and green scaly skin. Pretty awesome, right? Sadly, I haven't seen this toy for a good long while. I'm not sure that we even still have it. Anyway, I once saw this handbag at the JCP that, I swear, looked like it was made of Godzilla skin! I know this sounds rather odd, especially considering that Godzilla skin would be incredibly hard to come by, but there it was. Over the next few weeks, I studied that handbag again and again. I touched it, marveling at how much it felt like the Godzilla toy. I wanted that purse, and decided to buy it when it went on clearance.

One day, a couple of dear friends visited me at my place of employment. I ushered them over to the Godzilla purse, eagerly seeking their approval. To my dismay, they were far from impressed, sharing such thoughts as "That purse is ugly" and "We will not let you buy that purse". At first, I was a bit disappointed, but as I turned to look at the purse in defiance, I realized something: that purse WAS hideous! I don't know what happened, but it seems that my excitement over Godzilla skin clouded my usually trusty fashion sense.

I got to thinking about this today, and how this sort of thing happens a lot in life. Don't be concerned, I'm not thinking of anything in particular. Consider this an application of my English degree. It seems that sometimes we really only want something because of what it represents, or what it reminds us of. When we get it (or if it's something we already have), we hang to it, even if we realize that we have no use for it. The Godzilla purse was ugly; I realized this after my friends opened my eyes, but it reminded me of my childhood. I wanted to buy the purse as a reminder of what had been, but buying a dumb purse doesn't bring back the Godzilla toy or a simpler time of life. All it would have done would have left me with a dumb ugly purse.

So there you have it, one English graduate waxing philosophical about weird things. And who says you don't learn applicable skills in Literary Studies?

The Fuzzy Grey Area of Vigilante Punctuation Correction

Some of you may remember a picture I posted last year upon my return from my family reunion. It looked a little like this:

Actually, it looked exactly like that. Now, put aside the fact that this sign appeared inside a pit toilet; that point is irrelevant. Take a looksy at the punctuation choices made on this friendly and oh-so persuasive sign. What's that, you say? You don't see anything wrong with the punctuation? This is because you are a normal person. I, however, have been blessed/cursed with a little something called being an obsessive English major (graduate now- yay!). As such, my eyes instantly zeroed in on the comma splice. This is when a comma is inappropriately used, since the two clauses joined could stand on their own as sentences. This sign was in desperate need of a semi-colon.

To be honest, this sign wasn't the first thing I thought of when I heard that the reunion would be taking place at the same location this year (as in the beginning of August). I arrived at the reunion and, fittingly, was reunited with the offending sign. Since I was obliged to return to town for the middle of the week, it occurred to me that one could simply place a bottle of correction fluid in one's purse and, by strategically placing a dot above the comma, one could create the necessary semi-colon!

Now, I don't generally approve of such illegal-ery, but the facts of the case are these: a mysterious young woman arrived at the campground on Friday afternoon. Quietly, she sneaked up the road to the campground facilities. Looking around her for signs of the camp host (and joined by her mother to collect photographic evidence) she entered the small building. A short time later, both girl and mother emerged and disappeared into the night (okay, the later afternoon. The trees provided a lot of shade though). Close examination of the sign within proved that a change had been made:

Notice the difference? No? Perhaps a close-up shot, you ask? Here you go:
Ah-ha! The mysterious girl did, indeed, apply a dot of correction fluid! Brilliant! This produces a bit of a moral dilemma. On the one hand, this is vandalism. On the other hand, who is to judge vigilante action in the pursuit of correct punctuation? I'm sure this mysterious (and no doubt, lovely) young woman was only thinking about educating the public at large. Upon further reflection, I have made a decision. I applaud this girl, and I think you should, too.

The end.

Terror in the Night! Or not...

The tale I am about to relate took place in the wee small hours of the morning. As such, I am reluctant to definitively say whether it actually happened or if it was simply a dream. Either way, the story is still worth telling, so here it is:

I woke up in the middle of the night. As is my usual habit, I lifted my head from my pillow to check the time on my alarm clock and, having ascertained the time, laid my head back on the pillow. My return to slumber was interrupted, however, by a fluttering sound in my ear. I repositioned my head, but the fluttering sound continued. I sat up and looked at my pillow and noticed a small dark object, moving slowly across my pillow. I looked at the pillow, thought "Oh, that must be that moth that was downstairs earlier", and went back to sleep. I honestly don't remember what I did to get the moth off my pillow.

Fast forward to a couple of hours ago (whirrrrr). While preparing myself an after-work snack in the kitchen, I looked up and noticed a moth on the wall. Suddenly, the forgotten events of the early morning came back, crisp and clear. It was just like on television, when an amnesiac suddenly remembers what happened right before they got hit by that car, or whatever. Anyway, it occurred to me that I should have had a stronger reaction to a moth being on my pillow in the middle of the night. Some of you know of my intense fear of moths. It mainly stems from having one fly into my mouth when I was a child. Anyone who's had their mouth coated in moth dust knows what I mean. Ever since then, I've cowered in fear when a moth starts fluttering around the room. In the middle of the night, however, that did not occur. It seems that, in an incoherent state of sleepiness, I didn't fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. This is probably for the best, since I would have freaked out and might not have been able to get back to sleep.

Thank goodness for groggy incoherence, eh?

Farewell, Gregg and Brittany!

Here are the lyrics I wrote for Gregg and Brittany's farewell party at Aggy's tonight. It's to the tune of "Benny and the Jets" by Elton John.

Hey kids, have you heard the latest?
We've got two more people who've decided they should leave us.
I'll tell you who in a minute, so stick around.
If you don't know already, you'll hear it through my awesome sound.

Chorus:
Say, Cori and Becca, did you hear who's gone?
Ooh - 'bout a week or more?
B-b-b-Brittany and Gregg-g-g.
Yes, they are gone but they're wonderful
Oh Brittany! We miss you, Gregg too.
Gregg's in security, and Brittany,
She's working at the university. Oh-oh...
B-b-b-Brittany and Gregg-g-g.

Hey kids, here we are at Aggy's
Having a party, and most of us are ladies.
I'm glad that's right; I wrote this song before I came.
And I'll leave it up to you, my friends,
To tell me if it's awesome or lame.

Chorus

Notes: I'm sorry that, in singing this song, I made Gregg sound like he was insecure. I really meant that he works as a security guard. Also, in case you're not familiar with the original song, the repeated "g"'s on Gregg's name are in place of the lengthened "s" in the original song.

The end :)

Temple Tour Kick-Off

Since my dear friend Amanda wrote this post so beautifully, I thought I'd let you all enjoy it:

Amanda's Blog

Family Reunion: Part One

Due to my work schedule this week, I'll be experiencing my family reunion in two parts. For those of you not familiar with the Harrison family reunion, I will explain. The reunion takes place over the span of a week. My family usually goes on Monday and stays until Sunday. Other families come up later in the week, and some people, such as myself, come up here and there when they can. This works really well when the reunion is close, like this year.

My plan was to go up Monday afternoon after work and come back Tuesday morning so I could go to work, but my brother (Bret) isn't a huge fan of camping or something like that, so he asked if I wouldn't mind going home that night and I agreed, because it meant I could make him drive.

We followed my parents, who were driving the truck and pulling our trailer. The trouble began, however, shortly before we reached Tony Grove. Bret and I saw Dad pull the truck to the side of the road, smoke billowing from the engine. It appeared that the truck had overheated, and we were forced to leave it on the side of the road and travel on to our location in hopes that we could get my uncle, Max, to pull the trailer the rest of the way up. This was done, and Dad and Bret took the truck back to Logan, where the mechanic said that there was an obstruction of some sort in the cooling system.

Meanwhile, back at camp, Max and my cousin, Paul, helped us get our trailer level and stable, and my Mom and decided we needed to get our hands dirty (literally) and set up camp. After setting up, we went on a stroll to visit the few families that had come up the first day, and waited for Dad and Bret (and Sherlock, my brother's dog) to return.

Later that night, after the men returned and we'd had a delicious dinner, we gathered with some members of my extended family to chat around the fire. Bret and Sherlock had walked off a bit, and suddenly Bret yelled that he saw a moose! Now, some of you know that I've been wanting to see a moose for a good long while, so you can feel my excitement. I ran over by Bret to see....a dark spot on the hill on the other side of a ravine of sorts. My parents came over and wondered if maybe it was a cow or horse, but apparently my dad soon saw antlers and my mom agreed that the head looked like a moose. I had to take their word for it, sadly, because I didn't see any of those things.

There is still hope for moose, though. My cousin, Jake, said that he had seen a total of four moose yesterday, so I'm still hoping I can see one. I'll be back Friday and Saturday for more Harrison family fun, including dutch oven cobbler night and the big Saturday morning breakfast.