Monday, May 27, 2013

Nectar

I was reminded of this word the other day.
My spastic computer tech teacher, Mr. Eady, introduced our class to it.
In 9th grade.
According to him, "nectar" is a better way to say "cool" or "sweet" or "awesome."  I guess that California surfer guys in his growing up years used it.

Nectar.

I remembered liking this word very much. It made me smile.
But why the title for this post? Two reasons. One, because it is something from years ago, and as such it is a sign of the remembering that has gone on for me this week.

Remembering my years in High School as I think about the crazy truth that my little sister is graduating.
Remembering what I was like my freshman year in college, two years ago, and how much I have changed since them.
And especially...
Trying to remember the lessons I have learned thus far in my life
and remember to apply them so that I don't have to go through again what made me learn them in the first place.

Secondly, because this weekend has been pretty coolsweetawesome - so, nectar.

Let's start on Thursday.
I had the opportunity to help out with BYU Freshman Jumpstart.  Leading little tours and trying my best to answer questions was, although a little intimidating, very fun.
We even created a FirstYearExperience/Mentoring mascot.




This is Agnes. Courtesy of Monica.
On Friday, I helped Michilli at Jumpstart. Oh, sister. I'm super excited for you to come to BYU.






Later that night, my new little posse went mini-golfing at Trafalga.  I attacked Erin when I saw her.

I missed that woman.

On Saturday, we went on a kayaking trip down Provo River. It was absolutely fantastic! At first, I was terrified because of all of the warnings the river guide gave us as we drove to the launch point.  But, the river was fairly calm so I really had nothing to worry about. I did hit trees a few times, but this only resulted in minor scratches.


After kayaking, we all went to Ben's and had pancakes - followed by the usual shenanigans.
It's always a blast with these people. They have brought so much happiness into my life.


As Saturday was the Three Year Friendaversary of this little cutie and myself, I interrupted her studious EHS evening to visit with her.
We discovered that we need to hang out much more often than we have been. So many stories unshared, so many laughs and quirks dearly missed.


Today. Today has been relaxing, fun, and all around wonderful.  This morning, I went to a french-toast breakfast at the Ivy House. Delicious.
I also helped Paula watch little Simon.  He's such a great 2-year-old.
Then, some wardies and others went to Rock Canyon park to play.
Football launching and a colored water balloon fight.
Blue team got me.

After that?  I lazed around, wrote in my journal, found something to eat, did dishes...

...and had a marvelous pop-sickle break with  our neighborhood Indiana Jones/BYU Cowboy. (Hat courtesy of the roommate.)

All in all, much happiness has come of the past few days.
Thank you to all who made it possible.

Loves,
Kiki

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Click.

In a box, a lock
Closed and clipped.
If heard a knock
Trained to slip

Click for an inward hiding
Where the keeper is abiding
Click while there is still a shinning
Attempt to portray without pining

Indication
Expectation
Make it live
Respiration

Alternate
Obligate
What to give
Obliterate

An inconsistent weave
Up, in, down, through
Must open to retrieve
What is held true

There to change
Or rearrange
Box uncover
Danger hover

Click.
A sound from which part will flee
Flick.
A need for the proper key

Monday, May 20, 2013

Ruffin' It.

Ruff. Bark.
I used to think I was meant to be a dog. I often forget this, but between the ages of around five and eleven I believed in reincarnation.  The first evidence of that was that when I heard the song that goes "Where you there, where you there, on that Christmas night...?" I responded:
"I was there! When I was a tree."
The second evidence of it was that I would always insist upon being the dog when my friends and I played house. Why? Because I was quite convinced that I used to be one, that I somehow had a doggy soul inside me.
So there's that.
I was reminded of this over the weekend, when I was on one of the best trips of my life. We happened to be on the topic of spirit animals.




Which made me incredibly curious whether or not I could actually find what mine is.
Maybe one day.






Anyway, this fantastic trip I was on. Let me tell you about it.


I went to Moab with six of the best people in existence.  We climbed arches, explored canyonlands, bought ice cream, ate lots of nuts and oranges, definitely did not get scurvy, and just as definitely had plenty of good times and bonding moments.

The day we traveled out was full of the usual: packing, deciding who would go in which car, listening to music and other road-trip-like things.
It also consisted of some of the not-so-usualThings like "Oh, Cathy!" and reveling in a newly discovered common love for the music of Alabama.

We got to Moab late enough that many of the campsites were full.  We managed to find some overflow camping - hallelujah - where we could set ourselves and our belongings for the night.  And set we did.

The next morning, we woke when our bodies decided to get up - which was surprisingly early; around 7:30AM.  Really roughin' it.  We had a breakfast of muffins and oranges, then began our quest for a proper campsite.  We soon found one where the current residents were about to depart.  We then moved our camp, which was an adventure in and of itself, let me tell you.  We attempted to cause the need for as little re-setting up as possible, and thus were carrying half-collapsed tents across the street and down the campground.  At first, us girls were carrying our tent upright, by the poles. We looked like we could have been carrying a Sultan in there.  It was quite the sight to see.

After setting up, Becky made us ladies feel like we were at girls' camp again by french braiding our hair.  She was nice enough to do this more than once throughout the trip.







We all looked fab, of course.









And then we were off.







On the first day, we explored Arches. 


On the second day, Canyonlands.















Both days were full of discovery and trail-blazing.  Only, we didn't always blaze *on* the trail.  We only went on four official hikes during our time there, but we made our own route and climbed into the unknown so often that our hikes probably ended up being twice as long as they were originally.

We climbed rocks and arches that looked and felt quite dangerous.  Nicole scared us with her daring adrenalin bursts.  Patrice took lots of lovely - and not so lovely - pictures, and was generally prepared for just about everything.  We were serenaded by the angel voices of Ben and Brett with songs from Aida, by Michael Buble, and other wonderful selections.

Kamree conquered her fear of heights and climbed all over the place.  Brett demonstrated ultimate gentlemanly-ness by staying behind during the tricky climbing to make sure all of us got through safely.

I caused a scare by trying to hop my way to finding an alternate access point to the double arch, - hoping to find something more simple than this little diddy>>





...and ending up on the taller of the two arches, probably over 100 feet above the ground.  That arch is now infamous because of how windy and scary it was.







And I was Loving every bit of it.










At hiking's end, we were probably all a little dehydrated - despite the Costco pack of water we went through - and we had swollen fingers.  Which I still don't quite understand.

Friday night was full of hanging around the Colorado River...



...or in it - crazy boys










...roasting dogs and 'mallows, and laying in a circle looking up at the cloud-covered sky.  It was all very rejuvenating.
We discovered that we had some pretty neat-o neighbors, who apparently had a heaping supply of neat-o liquor, which was politely declined.  Neat-o.
After the shenanigans, we all went to sleep.  The girls in the tent, Brett in his hammock, and Ben on the picnic table (the boys' tent was being uncooperative).

Then came "the hurricane."  A few hours after we were all asleep, it began to rain.  Just little drips, but it was also incredibly windy.  The blusteringness of it shook our tent so much that we all woke up.  I heard Brett groan and mumble something, but was too out of it to realize what it was.  A few minutes later, I hear Ben and Brett rustling around outside.  The other girls and I woke up and discovered that they were putting up the rain-cover for our tent.


What champions.

"It only started raining a little, but I knew it could get ugly fast."  Brett responded when we commented on their heroic deeds.

Seriously, though - a couple of really swell guys.  They were genuinely concerned for our well-being the entire trip.  They are truly amazing, and I'm very glad I know them.






The next day was much like the first.
We hiked to a couple of lookout points that made us feel like we were standing on Pride Rock looking down into Mordor...
did Yoga on Whale Rock...

...and then went to town for gas and food before the trek home.
Can I just say, we gave poor Jon at Cabo's a really hard time.

---If I don't normally eat fish, will I like these?
---Will this fill me up?
---Excuse me, I have another question...
---Becky smiles.

 But, he seemed to think we were a hoot, so I suppose all is well.  Who knew there was such a thing as Big Boy Nachos and Man Sauce (props to Brett for actually drinking the stuff).
We finished up exploring town by ooh-ing and aah-ing over color changing sun-wear, strange sweaters, dirt-shirts, drug-rugs, and interesting horse paintings.
Then we piled in cars to head home.


I Love this bunch of goofs, so incredibly much.  Thank you for such a fun time.  I needed this trip more than you will probably ever know.