trekkin!

I leave tomorrow at four o clock.  In the AM.  And we're riding school busses for six hours.  Then we're walking all around Wyoming in long skirts, aprons, long sleeve button up shirts and pulling handcarts.

I seriously cannot wait to go.  Because, despite all that up there, I'm going to help my testimony grow.  I'm not going because my parents are forcing me to go (though it may have started out that way...)  And  I'm sure as heck not going to pull a handcart over 20 miles.  Nope.  I'm going so that I can experience even in the smallest bit a part of the sacrifice and dedication given by the pioneers.  They left their homes, their friends, their... everything for this.  And I'm going to walk in their footsteps.

After I finally realized this a couple of weeks ago, I tried to really prepare for trek.  I read Fire of the Covenant (which, if you haven't read, read it right now.  I'm serious.  Right now.)  I learned more about the woman I'm portraying- Elizabeth Horrocks Jackson- who is an amazing woman by the way.  She's now one of my heroes.  Read her story and your eyes just might fog up...  And I have become amazed at all that the wonderful people of 1856 went through.  Especially those in the Martin and Willie handcart companies.

So imagine that you have come to love this experience already and then you hear this:

"They gave me some stupid name... Louisa or something like that."

"I got Meat.  Or Meeta or something like that." (I don't know exactly what she was trying to say there, so I'm guessing.

"Ugh.  It's just such a stupid name."

I could not take it.  Perhaps it was my newly found friendship with Elizabeth that pushed me to say this but I couldn't just stand by.  (Now is when you roll your eyes at me, tell me what a nerd I am and how I should just get over these things.  I know.)

So I said, "You know those are real people who went on the actual pioneer trek, right?  It's not just some made up name they decided to give you."  I figured I better stop there before I really let my mouth run off with me.  So I stopped.

The two girls who earlier couldn't seem to find enough to say about their "weird" names just looked at me.  One nodded her head.  And they turned around and talked a bit quieter about how she didn't know if her name was Meat or not.  I had hoped that I would make the difference, but obviously, I just made them lower their voices.  Oh well.  At least I tried.

So, for the next four days, I will be Elizabeth and perhaps I'll be luck enough to have a dream like hers... "Cheer up Tacie, Deliverance is at hand."  (I mean it.  Read her story.)  So, farewell till we meet again!

Girls Camp! Logos! Prettiness!

So, I designed a logo for girls camp.  Finally.  Well, I designed two of them.  And I'm kind of really proud of them.  And there's one that I like much better than the other, but you have to guess which one it is.  So without further ado...

Logo 1:

Logo 2:

Guess which I like better and tell me which one you like better... You know you want to.

Oh, and I just had a moment of panic... you can tell that they're lighthouses, right?

The Death of the Sugar Cookie House

We don't always destroy gingerbread (or sugar cookie) houses, but when we do, we do it in style.  Actually, we always destroy our gingerbread houses.  It's become a tradition.  We've blown them up with firecrackers, run over them with vehicles... We get a strange little kick out of destroying these things.  So this cute little Easter Sugar Cookie house (yeah, I know Easter was a while ago, and yes, it has been sitting around our house since then...) ended it's life with the same fate.  We ran over it.  With a truck.  But enough words, you want to see pictures and video, huh?  Well, here ya go...

Before:

After:

 The Damage:

The Video:

Pfffttt.  (That's the sound you hear when it gets run over.)  Oh, and that voice you hear in the background, that's my Auntie Carol.  She's funny. :)

Ha ha!  Oh dear, you've gotta love my family.  And I hope you enjoyed watching this completely random post.  Because I have.  Immensely.

Oh the Places You'll Go!

Seeing as how I graduate in a year, I've been considering what to do with my life.  And if I had my way I would take off the first year or two and travel.  But I'm not bathing in money and I'm don't know of any rich great-uncles anywhere who will give me piles of money.  So I'll just have to dream about it until I can actually afford it.  Do you want to dream with me?  It'll be super exciting.

First off we've got Castelejo Beach, Portugal.  Look at those stars!  And the beach!  One ticket, por favor!

This is Barcelona.  Tacie wants to go to Barcelona.

I need to find out where this one is... It's somewhere in Italy.  I'm in love.

This is slightly more attainable.  This is in Montana.  Isn't she gorgeous?

Horsetail Falls, Yosemite.  Apparently, "Every year for a few days in the month of February, the sun’s angle is such, that it lights up Horsetail Falls in Yosemite, as if it were on fire.."  I really want to see that.

So there you go, now you can wish that you could travel just like I do.  You're welcome.

Sources:  Castelejo Beach (unknown)  Barcelona (here)  Italy (here)  Montana (here) Horsetail Falls (here)

Fairies and Tails

When I was younger, fairy tales were a huge source of confusion for me.  Because as far as I knew, fairies did not have tails.  Dogs had tails, but fairies did not.  Horses even had tails, but fairies did not.  Anyways, this random tangent is only a lead in to an even more random story.

It's the story of a princess named Gretchen.

As all good stories do, this one starts out once upon a time in a far away land.  There was a queen and king of the land, and of course they had a beautiful daughter, just as there always is, but in this story, we have a twist.  You see, Gretchen wasn't a normal princess.  Gretchen had big dreams and big demands.  She was determined that no prince would ever save her from a hundred foot tall tower, and she would never depend on one to wake her up from endless sleep.  And she dabbled a bit in the art of magic.

One day, Gretchen was sitting in her chambers, determined to master the spell of a self cleaning room (kind of like those self cleaning ovens, but not really) when suddenly she heard a shout outside her window. She ignored it because it must have been her annoying brother, Marshall.  He was always being, well, annoying.  So on she went practicing her spell.  At least until she heard the shout again, this time more clearly.

"Gretchen!  Come to the window!"

She figured her room cleaning spell was not getting any better and she might as well go check out the situation.  She walked to the window and saw only a horse.  She looked around, rolled her eyes and muttered, "dumb brothers!" and began to turn around.

"Wait!"

Gretchen twirled around as fast as she could and still saw only the horse.  But this time the horse was... smiling.  Could horses do that?

She stared down the horse, daring it to make a sound, and when nothing happened, she laughed.  How silly of me, Gretchen thought.  To think a horse could talk!  But she still did not remove her eyes from the horse.

Suddenly, out of thin air, a man appeared on the horse.  Gretchen squealed.  That was impossible!  Appearing out of thin air!  Almost like... magic.

The magic man then smiled his debonair smile and smoothed his manly hair in a very annoying manner and suddenly Gretchen felt the very strong urge to walk away.  Yet something held her in place.

"Gretchen Willow, I need you to come with me."  Oh dear. This could not be good.

That's all of Gretchen's story I can tell today.  I'm terribly sorry to leave you hanging like that, but not enough to tell you anymore.  So check in soon if you want to hear more...

Nothing to Write About...

Every time I try to write something on here, it sounds like a pimply seventh grader decided to barf up some writing.  That sounds disgusting, I know, but it's the truth.  That's because I'm pretty much forcing myself to write about things I really don't want to.

I mean I could write about stupid AP tests (well, test) and how I discovered I have a horrible habit of clenching my teeth together when I write essays that I'm pretty sure will ruin my mouth if I ever take another AP class that has anything to do with writing essays.  And then I would talk about how I'm sick of writing essays and if I ever have to write about how the stupid post service is dying out then I will shoot someone.  (Oh no!  I talked about an AP question!  Will my score be terminated now?  What ever will I do?)  But why would you want to hear me talk about that?

Or, I could talk about how I designed a shirt for Franklin Elementary School's Fun Run and it is a gorgeous specimen of a design if I do say so myself.  Then I would probably show you a picture of that design and you would leave a comment telling me how much you wish you had that shirt and how cool I am.  But, honestly, why would you care about that, either?

And then I might tell you all about MORP and how we went up the canyon and we played games and had a BBQ and we drew with chalk and watched Back to the Future and I had a great time with this kid:

And I could tell you how we sent each other on really random (and kind of mean) scavenger hunts to ask/answer each other for said MORP (and I could show you a really embarrassing picture of three certain friends of mine... Perhaps it had something to do with the letters Y, E, and S painted on chests? But just maybe.  I think I would spare you that one, though...)

And then I could tell you about how Mr. Calvin here set my hair on fire or how I spilled a cup of water on myself trying to balance it on his finger... But they take too long to explain and you don't want to spend the next year of you life hearing about that stuff.

An finally, I was thinking about telling you that every time I push the shift key with my left pinky, there's this agonizing shot of pain that rushes up my arm because I skinned the side of my hand yesterday.  Then you would feel bad for me and I would tell you that I'm done with this post. 

So as you can see, I have nothing to write about.  Nothing at all.

And the Realization Hits Like Lightning

How is it that an idea can become so fixed in our minds that we can't see the obvious right in front of us?  But that's just the human experience, isn't it?  To judge others without really getting to know them.  To go on making your life miserable just because of pride and a tendency to be stubborn?

Recently, I discovered that I have pegged someone all wrong.  

This friend, and yesterday, I know I wouldn't have called her a friend, is a genuinely good person, someone who I aim to get to know much better in the near future.  But you see, I was stuck up, not realizing what a good opportunity I have been missing by not getting to know said person.  I look back on all I thought about her and realize it was just some absurd notion thought up in my proud little head.  

Suddenly, my thoughts have turned to others I have possibly judged unfairly.  And I wonder, how many times have I based someone upon a single action.  Something they did once and I can't seem to forget it?  Way too many for me to feel good about myself.  And if I'm doing this so often, how many of my stupid moments have stuck in others minds giving them some twisted version of who I really am.  

I mean, if I expect others to give me a chance, I kind of have to give them one first, eh?

The logical thought process of this situation brings my mind very unwillingly onto a new subject.  There is someone who is at the back of my mind, practically exploding and it's all I can do to try and not think about it, because I know that I'm not going to like where it takes me.  But here it goes:  

I have based this person's entire being on one single action and while it wasn't just some small thing, I mean, I was quite offended at this, it still needs to be forgotten.  And if the talk in sacrament meeting last week on forgiveness wasn't enough, then it quite possibly might take a sledgehammer to my pride to get it through to me.  Get over it Tacie.

Now is where you come in.  Because if this little pity party has sparked that little guilty feeling in your mind, I'm guessing you need to get over something too.  So give it a try.  I'm going to, so we might as well attempt the seemingly impossible feat together, eh?

And I promise the regularly scheduled sarcasm and wit will be back soon.