This too shall pass

I just had to pursue other interest than blogging for a little while, but don't worry, I have lots of posts just waiting to get picked.


So the mini Cadbury eggs are in stores again. I bought two bags. And I ate two bags. And while holding one bag in my hand walking past the mirror - I realized that I was a walking oxymoron.

Skinny jeans + Cadbury eggs = oxymoronic me.




Smatchoo to myself.
Wear wide leg till Cadbury egg season passes.
And while sitting at my cubicle, I looked down at my lap and noticed the tightness of my skinny jeans was at least keeping my thighs somewhat gathered. 'Ohhh. This too shall pass,' I thought. Just get those Cadbury eggs out of the store.'

Its gonna be okay girls. Just like that awkward 14 year old stage. Its only for a short time.
Enjojy it.

Hey Fam,

Remember Dad's Valentine Story? Resold and made the front page of the Salt Lake Tribune for Valentine's Day in '98. Pretty funny and clever, Dad. But our favorite part is the last paragraph that you have a hard time reading aloud because all the jokes stop and its all about Mom.

Forgive me on this V-Day for not nurturing all my textual relationships.

Warning. This is a sappy V-Day post. And for those of you who cannot handle a sappy post, I have provided a clip from Lonesome Dove in the lower right hand corner.

Okay, so I was thinking today… ‘How could technology really help me?’

I need a counting code placed into my brain’s html source for all the times I think of calling/texting/g-chatting/facebooking/emailing/poking? – whatever certain person I should be. And then have that number sent out through air waves to this person’s brain chip, email, blackberry, iphonepod whatever. And this number should count for all the things I wish I had time to say. “Zero zero zero nine hundred sevent-two I thought of yous.” Feel loved already okay?

“00972 thoughts that Hannah has had to contact you…. But she still hasn’t because she’s weird like that.” And she feels real bad and hopes that people aren’t mad when they see that I took the time to post on my silly blog and not the time to text Happy Valentine’s Day. 'Hannah thinks she's so popyalar!' I know. right.

heartless people, enjoy the clip. And for more contradictory posts such as this, visit the Dancing Spiderman.

The Missing Digit That Said I l?ve you.

It’s true that Argentina was dreamy and magical, but it was also a time of deep reflection for me. And I was actually happy to be feeling away. But sometimes my thoughts needed to be said aloud and preferably in English. I ended up calling my parents more than expected for someone who considers themselves quite independent and not easily homesick. Usually at odd hours of the night, dialing 001 903 ……

“Hi, its me.”

“Let us call you right back so it’s on our bill.”

“k, thanks. “ click

Ring Ring.

“Hi.”

“Hi, how ya doin and how’s the Spanish?”

This was the beginning of a many great and comforting conversations with my parents. They let me talk out my 2007 realizations and I was becoming better for it.

The minutes passed but I was always the one to say, ”I’m good now. Thanks. Goodnight.”
And then I’d wake up again to Argentine opera music and Christinia painting in the kitchen, which was also quite soothing in a non conversationalist sort of way.

Returning home, I found ways to interject my experiences from Argentina in most all conversations. My bewitchment of it was apparent. While telling stories to my parents, I remembered,

“Did you get the phone bill from my calls?”

My Dad was staring into his Mac screen and my Mom was eBay packaging. Neither one looked up or answered. The silence made me unsure if either one had been listening.
Then right at the moment that the delayed response would have made me ask again, my Dad spoke up,

“Fifty dollars.”

‘Fifty. Not bad,’ I thought.


I let it put me at ease and went on talking, Argentina this and that.

Sometime later when I was visiting home again, I went into the office to use my mother’s computer. A system of bookkeeping and very important papers lined her rectangular work space. I sat down and read a paper off to the side. It was from a phone company and dated for the months I was in Buenos Aires. First noticing the all caps, ‘TOTAL:’ in the lower right corner, my attention zeroed in on what was missing from the 'fifty' they had told me earlier. Pun intended.

And it was in a decimal place that counted.

But its value was not because it was in the ten’s place.
Its greatest value was in the fact that it was missing. And that it was my parent’s secret.
But I knew where it was. It was the missing digit that said,
I L-0-ve you.


Thanks ya'll and Happy Valentine's Day to my fam!

Automatic songs for today are Main Theme from Notebook (so you can appropriately weep while reading.) And then Stevie wonder, I Just Called To Say I Love You.

May we never complain for feeling under appreciated.

This is a serious smatchoo post. It may be the big kahuna smatchoo of all smatchoos.

Irena Sendler, was a member of Zegota, a Polish underground organization formed to aid Jews in escaping the fates of the Holocaust.

Irena, by the circumstance of her race and position in Warsaw, Poland was safe from Nazi persecution. But she risked her life to save an estimated 2,500 Jewish children from death.

While working for the Social Welfare Department, Irena had permission to enter Warsaw’s ghetto to check for signs of disease or other sanitary issues that Nazi’s were afraid could cause on outbreak beyond the ghetto. With each visit, she disguised children as packages, or hid them in coffins or potato sacks to bring them to Polish families until they could be reunited with their Jewish family members. Irena also trained dogs to bark to cover children’s cries from German guards. The names and secret identities of her saved were placed in jars that she kept buried until after the war so she could continue her work in reuniting families.

A year after working under Zegota, Irena was arrested by the Gestapo and they broke her arms and legs because of the information she withheld from the Nazi’s. Given the choice to save her life, she refused and was sentenced to execution.

But because of the very nature of Hitler’s men, the executioners were able to be bribed to spare her life. Left beaten in the woods and then kept in hiding for the remainder of the war, Irena dug up her jars of names and began tracing their blood relatives.

A year before Irena died in May of 2008, she was nominated for the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize.

She lost.

To Al Gore’s presentation on global warming.

So that every syllable rings clear in your ear, What is the matter with you, Politics?

But I doubt Al Gore will ever get A Righteous Among the Nations Award, which Irena did receive some years before.

Rain Drops on Roses and ...Salvation?

Here’s a little taste of single’s ward sacrament meeting today.

She’s trying to get the words to describe a feeling almost indescribable. And that's difficult times ten, when you’re in the spotlight. And she’s been silent now for a minute which probably seems a lot longer in such public speaking settings. She finally gave up and just let the words come out,

“Ugh! “(the giving up sigh)

“The atonement is just one of my favorite things!”

'Okay Julie Andrews.'

I held in the laughter and contemplated what I would want to say to her after. Like,

“No way! Me too! Avoiding damnation is like in my fave five!”

I mean, as long as we're talking about salvation as if it's a daisy, skinny jeans, 2004 Jetta or brown paper packages tied up with string. Might as well add atonement to my top 8 on My Space.

Rain drops on roses, whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens... and no Redemption? Julie, Some Nun you are!

Okay, that's it. I'm creating a Facebook fan page....

Salvation

Watch for your news feed...

Hannah Conley is now a fan of salvation.

'Cuz she wasn't before?'

Smatchoo and Amen to that sista!

Facebook - Decreasing Stranger Danger One Friend at a Time

I'm going to write in real Blog style today.

Ah! K, So the weirdest slash coolest thing happen to me today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was like going for a jog Saturday morning and was just about to the doors of Guru’s on Center street just here in P-Town.

And this guy walks out and there was a slight run-in but nothing catastrophic. I made eye contact with the stranger so I could do one of those ‘excuse me’ nods but not have to say it out loud cuz I’m already out of breath . And then we both seem to do a double take. Not because of love at first sight attraction, I mean I'm jogging here, but because I somehow KNEW the stranger but didn’t. And he was having those same thoughts too! Don’t ask me how I knew, I just have good girlie vibes sometimes…. SOMEtimes. So of course all of this has happened within seconds and I have resumed jogging with my back toward him and I felt like he was still bothered by how we knew each other. (the vibes again)

Jogging up and down I was thinking thinking thinking…..'huff huff' out of breath …

‘Ah! how embarrassing!’

I caught on to how we recognized each other.

‘Should I tell him in case he didn’t know???’

I twisted my torso around and saw he was still watching me run away while trying to figure it out too.

So I yelled back,

“Facebook! “

He yelled back,

“Yes! THANK you!”

“We’re Soooo Creepy!”

And to think soemone the other day was saying how careful we all need to be on facebook. But really, the creepiness of it all had just made my jogging experience safer - in a way. You know. Cuz I wouldn't have had to yell, 'Stranger Danger!!'
With the amazing networking of facebook, And if he HAD attacked me. I could have said,

"I will tell your mother on facebook buddy. So just back off."


I think I'll wear this jogging next time.
And no, its not about getting over a thousand friends. It's about being safe out there! Gosh add people - peoplllle!