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Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Start Spreadin' The News...

I'm leaving TODAY!

I want to be a part of it!

NEW YORK! NEW YORK!


These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray...
Right through the very heart of it --

NEW YORK!


NEW YORK!


I AM LEAVING TODAY. YES. TODAY. Don't worry, I won't miss you too much. Because I will be 

in the city that never sleeps.

 Not to mention....singing in CARNEGIE HALL.


If I can make it there,
I'll make it anywhere...

It's up to you,

NEW YORK!




NEW YORK!

Saturday, February 19, 2011

A Convincing College Proposal?

"A FUTURE True Aggie: Be Prepared"

What do you think? USU is looking pretty appealing as far as this chapstick they sent me in the mail is concerned ;)

Are you convinced?

Thursday, February 17, 2011

My Legacy: Another Shelby Story

Once upon a time there was a girl named Shelby. She was born with moonlight on her golden hair and was the jewel of her parents eyes.
Scratch that...

There was this girl named Shelby. She had a CRAZY laugh.
She loved laughing.
Sometimes she felt obnoxious. Because her laugh was very.....boisterous.
But she entered a class in high school called American Studies. This class was full of strange clocks. Yes, clocks. Some whistled like birds, or had strange pictures. Every hour a strange sound came out of one clock or another. In this class, Shelby became famous for her loud, obnoxious, and boisterous laugh. Her teachers just loved it. Adored it. She was the jewel of her teachers eyes.
She went through high school and gained a wonderful relationship with these teachers. They enjoyed her laugh, she enjoyed their witty remarks and classroom environment.
Time flew and Shelby was soon a senior. YES. A SENIOR. It was hardly believable. One day while sitting in class, one of these teachers came to this devastating realization.
"SHELBY! YOU ARE A SENIOR!" She shouted.
Why, yes. Shelby was a senior.
"I will never be able to hear your laugh bounce through the walls of Lone Peak High ever again!"
The class gasped.
And they all joined in on this devastating realization.
Obviously, something had to be done.
So a plan was formulating. A clever plan.
Remeber the strange clocks that make strange noises at the hour intervals of each day?! Shelby was going to have one of those. She must. Her very own clock.
A clock that could record a message at every hour.
A different message=a different laugh.
Every hour=a new laugh.
BRILLIANCE!
Her laugh would never be forgotten at Lone Peak High School. She would grow old and have grandkids and get wrinkly and pruny and people would always remember the clock with the crazy, loud, boisterous, laughing girl!
This was it.
Her chance.
15 minutes of fame?
Nah.
A LIFETIME OF FAME.
But her plan proved difficult. Her and a few choice friends searched the internet seeking after a clock that had the capabilities for her circumstance. For months this went on. But the clock just didn't seem to exist. She toyed with the idea of creating her own clock and manipulating wires and recording devices to get her clock. But that just wouldn't be right. This clock had to be durable--epic enough to transcend time, culture, and place.
Then one afternoon scanning the items on Ebay. Shelby found it. It was perfect.

"MESSAGE IN TIME CLOCK. RECORD 12 A PERSONAL MESSAGES AND HEAR ONE AT THE TOP OF EACH HOUR. DISPLAY 12 OF YOUR FAVORITE PHOTOS. HOUR NUMBERS 1-12 INCLUDED. REQUIRES 4 AA BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED. LIGHT SENSOR DEACTIVATES RECORDINGS WHEN ROOM IS DARK. IT IS FROM A SMOKE-FREE AND PET-FREE ENVIRONMENT!"

Buttons were pressed. Days were waited. And then: it came.

The box was ripped open, batteries were placed, it was tested. IT WORKS.
IT WORKS! IT WORKS! IT WORKS!

The next 4 hours were spent in attempting to record Shelby's different laughs. Her friends tried to help. They created situations. Startled her. Tickled her. Told her funny stories. EVERYTHING they could think of to get her to laugh. But Shelby discovered a difficult truth. Laughing on command Laughing in 12 different ways on command, is EXTREMELY difficult.

After hours and hours of hard work--it was finished.

Shelby and her friends held it out and just looked. Admired. It was beautiful.

The day was finished in antcipation for the coming morning. Something the laughter would sound suprising and shocking Shelby while she went about other duties in her house. SHE COULD HARDLY WAIT.

The next morning, Shelby jumped out of bed, did her daily routine before school and slipped the wonderour clock into a bag with excitement. She gathered her friends and they snuck into their American Studies classroom. As sneaky and subtley as possible, they hung it on the wall.

This was 7:45am.

At 8:00am, the first laugh would sound and Birrell would be stunned in amazment and surprise! There's NO way Shelby and her friends could miss this. So they went up to their first period teacher and politely asked to be excused around say.....7:55-8:05. That would be sufficient time to experience the begining of a new age and see the happiness burst from the face of their beloved teacher.

Excitement.

The clock ticked.

7:50.

7:54.

7:55 RUSH out of the classroom.

RUN down the hall.

CROUCH on the ground.

And.....Listen.

8:00 Nothing.

Maybe the time is off. Maybe we need to wait a few more minutes...

8:05 Nothing.

There was definitely a problem.

Shelby slowly slipped into the room on her belly and looked where the clock had been placed earlier that morning. IT WAS GONE!

So. She stood up and raised her hand.

Birrell, slightly confused, called on Shelby at the back of the classroom.

"Where's the clock?" She asked with anxiety.

"That was YOUR clock?!" said Birrell.

Uh-oh.

"Yes?" Shelby responded.

"Look in the trash."

She looked.

GLASS. GLASS was EVERYWHERE. The clock had SHATTERED.

So Shelby fell onto the ground and started crying as her friends rushed into the room to come to her aid. They too, were shocked at the horror before their eyes.

But after a moment of mourning, they pulled out the clocks remains and cried desperately "Perhaps there is hope?!".

They turned the clock over and pressed the "Play" button.....

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Yay! It worked! It worked! It worked!

An explanation was then given to their teacher, the surprise was ruined, but at least the clock was SAVED.

The class in session at the moment asked for another demonstration.

The "Play" button was pressed once more. But, instead of the beautiful sounds of Shelby's laughter.....

"8:00 No Message"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Every message had been completely erased! All twelve. All twelve different laughs that had taken hours and hours!!! THEY. WERE. GONE.

And thus ends the story.

The clock works, but the precious messages are all gone. It now sits on Shelby's kitchen counter repeatedly saying "No Message" as a reminder each hour of Shelby's pain.

Someday.

When Shelby is in the mood to laugh for a couple hours in twelve differnt ways and exhaust herself--she will once again create the beautiful clock that will make her a legend at Lone Peak High School.

Until then, she will continue to listen.

"5:00 No Message"
"6:00 No Message"
"7:00 No Message" (During family prayer)
"8:00 No Message"
"9:00 No Message"
"10:00 No Message"
"11:00 No Message"
"12:00 No Message"...............

Stay tuned to hear if Shelby's clock ever makes it back to the classroom.



Tuesday, February 15, 2011

A Thought To Paint:

"There is one responibility which no man can evade; that responsibility is his personal influence. Man's unconcious influence is the silent, subtle radiation of personality--the effect of his words and his actions on others. This radiation is tremendous. Every moment of life man is changing, to a degree, the life of the whole world. Every man has an atmosphere which is affecting every other man. He cannot escape for one moment from this radiation of his character, ths constant weakening or strengthening of others. Man cannot evade the responsibility by merely saying that it is an unconcious influence. Man can select the qualities he would permit to be radiated. He can cultivate sweetness, calmness, trust, generosity, truth, justice, loyalty, nobility, and make them vitally active in his character. And by these qualities he will constantly affect the world. This radiation, to which I refer, comes from what a person really is, not from what he pretends to be. Every man by his mere living is radiating either sympathy, sorrow, morbidness, cynicism, or happiness and hope or any one of a hundred other qualities. Life is a state of radiation and absorption. To exist is to radiate; to exist is to be the recipient of radiation."


-David O. McKay, "Personal Radiation", BYU April 27, 1948


I have been thinking constantly about this thought. I CAN CHANGE THE WORLD. With what qualities I radiate as I touch the lives of others. People's countenance and demeanor and just THEM. They touch my life. I think it's beautiful. I want to radiate goodness.


Yesterday: Good day. I think I radiated love.

Today: Not so good. I think I radiated impatience and coldness.

Tomorrow: Good day. I will radiate goodness.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

A little excited. Just a little.

So....tomorrow is Valentines Day!

No, I did not just realize this.

I have been aware of that fact for weeks...If not months. Or having that fact subconsciously on my mind ever since Christmas ended.

I LOVE Valentines day.

I prefer to enjoy the holiday of love rather than having a cynical attitude about being single or wearing black to mourn our un-relationshipness. NO. Love is grand.

Plus, it's probably the most entertaining holiday as watching people dress up in pink and turn into giddy fools is really quite enjoyable.

In my excitement this week--I have come to a horrible realization.



My mother never taught me not to play with my food.



Actually....she probably did. But I must not have learned the concept so well.

My week of preparation started with making Valentines Cookies for my friends.

I learned something:

NEVER trust a new recipe and the "Yeild" quantity.

I made cookies Thursday. For 5 HOURS. Yes. The recipe said it would only make 2 dozen. Little did I know, 2 dozen means FIVE HUNDRED COOKIES (ok.....more like 150....but that's a lot). AH! I am completely and utterly exhausted. But--I look forward to tomorrow when I can give my five hundred cookies to random strangers and also my friends and brighten up their day with the gift of love.





Then my week also consisted of the Sweethearts dance. I went with my friend Kent.


"My heart is yours if you come to the V-dance with me"

Awwwww

Obviously I said YES.

The night consisted of going up the canyon to make tin foil dinners. This was slightly disastrous and we ended up going back to the house to finish cooking them. Kent and I decided to dress up in Valentines crazy outfits. Those were interesting. But hey, dancing in them was prety fun. The dance was CANDYLAND themed! AH. I asked the principle if I could take home the decorations but he said I probably couldn't. Disappointed.

But the dance went well.

Again: I went a little overboard with the whole Valentines theme.

I present my tin foil dinner:

Yes, those are potatoes and carrots and onions and beef and barbecue spices. Mmm.

My tin foil dinner magically turned into...... A CONVERSATION HEART!

My tin foil dinner burning in the fire of love. Symbolic? I think yes.



Sweethearts was a blast. Thanks Kent :)


Today is Sunday. Every Sunday for the past ten years or so, my family has pancakes and eggs. It is a wonderful tradition. Half the time we invite families or missionaries over to share too. Today was our pancake dinner: VALENTINE EDITION.

I went all out.

Bananas?

Strawberries?

Pink Pancakes?

The table

My delicious final product. Perfect.

My family really loves Valentines Day. Asia made TONS of hearts and taped them all over the house about three weeks ago. They make me happy.



Sorry for the huge Heart-Attack in this post. I went a little overboard. But no worries! The side-effects are definitely good ones: you may experience giddiniess, gratitude, love, affection, admiration, appreciation, excitement, etc. Don't feel the need to report them to your doctor, Love is natural, folks.

Enjoy it.

Love,
Shelby

Friday, February 11, 2011

As I Die Reading

As I Lay Dying?


The main points I learned this week from reading Faulkner:



My mother is a fish.



Jewel's mother is a horse.







Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.







Teeth would be nice.

Don't put cement over a broken leg.


Three dollars is a lot.


Make it on a bevel.

Why did she order cakes?



It ain't going to work.



If I had one, it was. And if it was, it can't be is.





Never go into cellars.








Chuck______Chuck_______________Chuck________________________Chuck.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Highball! Get On Your Hayburner To Come To The Nosebag Show.

If you understand this title at all: You are a true lumberjack and I envy you.

Here's some help:

Highball: Hurry
Hayburner: Horse
Nosebag Show: A camp where the midday meal is taken to the woods in lunch buckets.

Ok, so it wasn't REALLY a Nosebag show. But it was just as good.

On Saturday my friends and I had a LUMBERJACK PARTY.

Yes.

LUMBERJACK PARTY.


I'm not sure it's ever been done so gracefully and elegantly...or done at all, for that matter.

Klooches* and Tillicum* alike were invited.

You may ask what a Lumberjack party would even consist of?

Well, I will tell you.

The night was filled with felt-beard-makin', wood-and-soap-whitttlin', waffle-eatin', bacon-eatin', fire-burnin', s'more-cookin', log-choppin', banjo-dancin', and pullin' out some Sougans* for Paul-Bunyan-movie-watchin'.

Everyone came dressed up in their plaid and suspenders. Some brought Hatchets and knifes.

The house was decorated with pine-scented car fresheners and trees in every room.

The banjo music in the background and the smell of bacon just seemed to complete the Lumberjack atmosphere of it all.

I know, I know, you are jealous. Because it was the BEST PARTY EVER.

I am even debating the idea of a random-and-obscure-career-option-party every month!

Yes?

Anyway, I can't really describe to you the greatness of this party. A few Shortstakers* came. But most of the dedicated Lumberjacks hung around for the night.

Don't ask why Hannah is being a model...Lumberjacks aren't supposed to model....

OH YA!

These two I am with; they are the Tyee loggers*

Don't I look just GREAT with facial hair?! Shelby Gun-Slingin' Frampton

This is a perfect picture.

And Anna Waffle-Cookin' Lewis cuts with her Hatchet: Bill.

This just speaks tough.

Eating and conversing commences

Yes.

Hannah Red-Beard Abbott looks even better than me with facial hair

Lumberjack Jargon Help:
*Sougan: A heavy woolen blanket
Klooch: A woman
Tillicum: A man, usually a friend
Shortstakers:A worker who quits after earning a small sum
Tyee loggers: From the Chinook word meaning chief, hence the head of the logging operation.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

I got in the groove again today.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

30 Days in 30 Minutes: A Finale (17, 19-30)

Day[s] 17, 19-30:

So I realized this morning as I traveled upstairs and browsed my blog that I somehow managed to skip day 17.

Dearest Day 17,
I am sorry. I wasn't blowing you off. I promise. My brain just forgot about you. But no fear! I will write about you today.
Love,
Shelby

As I was bewildered that a) I can't count to save my life, and b) I am completely unobservant; I realized that perhaps it's best to just be done with this challenge as the last half of the prompts aren't my favorite topics. Also, I have been cheating....a little. If you haven't noticed, I kind of just write about my day and my life and...apply it to the prompt.......somehow. So I thought to myself "If I am just writing about what I want to anyway, what is the point of this 30 day thing?" Well. There isn't one.

BUT.

I accepted the challenge!

I said YES.

I must not quit.

I cannot fail.

Which is why I haven't quit thus far.

So as I pondered this dilemma and talked to a few blogging friends, I decided upon a compromise.

I will finish the challenge. I will do all 30 days, but...I will do them on my time. And my time seems to be shorter than 30 days.


Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, prepare yourself for the post of a LIFETIME!

I Present to you.....

[the rest of] 30 Days in 30 Minutes!
*said in a loud and booming voice. VERY climatically*


Day 17.
Your favorite memory.

Oh Posh. I don't like these favorite ones. It's like asking who is your favorite friend. IMPOSSIBLE. But I will give you a good one.

Once upon a time I went on a date. We made a cake with our faces on it and watched The Keeper of Time (most hilarious movie ever made) in the shed then rode in the back of a truck and danced up on a mountain on a frozen lake while Billie Holiday played in the background and we stared out into the valley.


It was blissfull.

Day 19.
Something you regret.

I believe in no regrets. But that doesn't mean I haven't been ashamed of myself before.

I wish I never got angry.

Day 20.
This month.

Is the shortest month of the year. Crazy huh? Yes.

It's also Valentines day. One of the most joyful holidays. Being an avid observer at school is just hysterical.

Day 21.
Another moment.

Once upon a time last year I went sledding very late at night with one of my best friends. We sat on a swing on top of a mountain. Usually, I talk A LOT(sorry...) and I converse and I am loud. But that night. I was completely silent. There was no sound. We didn't speak. We didn't even look at each other. We looked at the beautiful snow covered valley and smog and lights. It was a perfect winter night. The silence went on for half an hour or so. But it wasn't awkward. It was lovely. And bonding. And spiritual. Words weren't needed. It was a moment. So we enjoyed the moment.

It wasn't this night-but it was the same place and just as beautiful.

Day 22.
Something that upsets you.

When bad is good.

Day 23.
Something that makes you feel better.

When someone calls me and says "Hey! I was just thinking about you and dropped by your house to visit. You home?"

That is the best.

Or when someone makes me laugh when I am sad.

Or reading a book.

Or playing the piano.

Day 24.
Something that makes you cry.

Hahaha. Oh boy. The real question is, what DOESN'T make me cry?

I am a softie.

I cry when I am happy.
I cry when I am sad.
I cry when I am full of love.
I cry when I am angry.
I cry when I am alone.
I cry when I feel the spirit.
I cry when other people cry.
I cry when I am grateful.

Day 25.
A first.

The first time I flew a kite: I about peed my pants It was so much fun.



Day 26.
Your fears.

Confession: I am kind of a wimp. My siblings have teased me my WHOLE life because I am so scared to do things sometimes. I am afraid of heights and roller coasters and getting hurt and the dark and basically everything a kid could be afraid of. But, I am OK with that because I don't let my fear get in the way of just doing it. I still rock climb and repel and go on ski-lifts. I still ride all the scariest roller coasters. I still go boating and do adventurous things. I still am alright to turn off my lights at night. And sometimes I even force myself into Haunted Houses or get the courage to watch a scary movie. Fewf. Those are brave moments.
I have fears that do hold me back sometimes.
I am afraid of failure.
I am afraid of the unknown.
I am afraid of addiction.
I am afraid of not being able to have kids.

I wish I wasn't afraid.

It's a tool of the devil.

Day 27.
Your favorite place.

My bedroom.

I hide away in their for hours upon hours.

My parents don't like it sometimes...

Day 28.
Something you miss.

I miss Malaysia. I hope someday I can go back and visit my old school and home. Ah! That would be so fun.

Day 29.
Your aspirations.

I want to go here.

Day 30.
one last moment

One time, my best friend and I laid on her roof with blankets and looked at the stars and talked for hours about life. We do that sometimes. When we do, I could stay up there forever. Those are moments.

30 Days: COMPLETED

*Fireworks and much rejoicing*

Friday, February 4, 2011

Shelby's Birthday Affirmation (18)

Day 18: Your Favorite Birthday

This prompt is WAY too difficult.

Every birthday is my favorite birthday.

I don't think I haven't had a birthday I haven't enjoyed.

I suppose if I REALLY thought about it, I would say my 5th grade birthday party at the Frampton's Cabin up in Wildwood. Now THAT was a crazy fun night.


It just had a certain atmosphere of FUN. There's no other description.

When I tell people how much I completely love and adore my birthdays; they are usually slightly surprised at my gusto and may even look disapprovingly at my enthusiasm and zeal. Some don't believe me. "Birthdays are just like any other day right? I mean, you don't even FEEL different." WRONG. NEGATIVE. NO.

Birthdays are glorious.

So.... are you ready?

ARE YOU EXCITED?!

I am going to share my birthday secret with you.

This is why my birthdays are so fantastically wonderfully too marvelous for words. EVERY year.

Jessica's Daily Affirmation


(Note: The deleted scene is pretty great too if you want to watch that...)

That's the secret folks.

If I did that every day and not ONLY on my birthdays, I would be the happiest woman alive!

Maybe I should try it...

Day 18: COMPLETED

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Oh The Day That Is Day 16 (16)

Day 16: Your First Kiss

DISCLAIMER: I have been secretly dreading this post since I started. Don't get me wrong, I loved my first kiss. I just don't know how I feel writing about it. But...I suppose I am satisfied with this. It sufficiently captures what I want. But I am kinda sorta REALLY embaressed of my poetry skills... Don't judge too harshly...please?.

01/10/09

I can never seem to remember.
Though, a night I won't forget.
Finally.

Finally,
the satisfaction of waiting
for perfection.
For perfection
it was.
Perfect.
Simple.
I slept with a smile on my lips, yet,
Waking:
I couldn't seem to remember.


Day 16: COMPLETED

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

A Dream is A Wish... (15)

Day 15: Your dreams.

I am a dreamer.

At night; yes.
Day time? Yes.
ALWAYS.

I suppose everyone has dreams.

The BFG comes along at night and slips dreams into everyones bedrooms! He gives them dreams. Dreams about crazy lepricons leading across dangerous mountains. Or swimming through rapid rivers and waving to all your friends on the shore. Or dreams of games and winning and survival. Dreams of adventure and love. Dreams of never ending roller coasters or playdough turning into birds or your friend turning into a giant and leading you to your new home. The BFG must have a good imagination...

Then there's the dreams when you are awake.

Dreams of future. Dreams of lovers and fantasies. Dreams of hope.


I dream of owning a little cottage. With an attic that I turn into an old ballroom where I fit my baby grand and maybe a dusty chandelier. But thats all. And then at night time I turn on my chandelier and I dance and dance. With my husband. Or maybe my kids. But I can play some old jazz records and dress up and dance. Or perhaps I will lift up a hatch in the ceiling and go lay on the roof and look at the stars and dream about who else is sitting on their roof too. During the day I will put on yellow sundresses or overalls and I will curl my hair and wear hats and swing on my tree swing. The birds might sing for me if I ask them and I can sing with them. Then I can lay in my little patch of wildflowers for a bit. I will grow BERRIES. Blueberries and Rasberries and Strawberries. And I will pick them and pick them till I have buckets full. Them I will make pies and let them cool on my windowsill.

I dream of traveling the WORLD. Africa, Egypt, India, China, Europe, Japan, Brazil. Everywhere. I want to visit all seven continents before I die. I want to live and know and learn and experience. I dream of boat rides and hot air balloons and canoes and caves and forests and cathedrals and art museums and temples.

I dream of beauty. I dream of flowers and nature and the weather and smiles and music.

I dream of love. Sometimes I make up stories in my head and just sit and close my eyes and play them through, fixing and tweaking and perfecting them till I can't stop smiling.

I dream of success. Maybe someday I could be a jazz singer and record my own music or have my own band. Or maybe I could be a pianist that could play every song in the world and could play by ear in every key. I could perfect my talents. I dream of inspiring kids and being the best teacher ever.

I dream a lot.

But you wanna know my biggest dream?

I dream of being a mom.

I dream of being the best mom in the world.

Sometimes...dreams are just dreams. They don't really go anywhere because the reason you have them is to just think about them and enjoy that. But people can MAKE dreams happen.

I think I will do that.



Day 15: COMPLETED

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Why [do they] Ask [me] Not To [not] Touch[?] (14)

Day 14: What I wore today.

Not happening.

No bueno.

Nobody cares what I wore for the second time.

Also.

How can I care when they are back.

THE HIVES.

They are begging to be itched.

BEGGING.

But...I....can't......

Day 14: TERMINATED. ABORTED.