The new year begins and one friendship dies

I didn't make any resolutions. I've made resolutions every year, only to fall short and fail in sometime around March. I figure I know what I want to do and what I want to change this year, I'm just not going to write it down or tell anyone about it, maybe then I can achieve it, because what I've been doing for the past years is clearly not working.

There is nothing better than having a friend that not only meets your expectations but exceeds them, sadly the opposite is true for the disappointments. I've had this friend, shall we call him 'James' who I've known for a short time, but he's quite exceeded my expectations. He's been genuine, kind, caring, and he put a smile on my face when few people could, to be quite honest, I was completely smitten by him. I had been completely honest with 'James' in everything, but there was something I hadn't told him, just because it hadn't come up, not because I was ashamed of it. But I knew the topic would come up eventually and I would willingly tell him. Sure enough, it came up, and I told him that I was LDS. I was a little worried at first, but I expected him to at least accept it. I was shocked when by the end of our conversation the last words he said to me were "I don't really know what to say or where that leaves us." Taken back I said confused, but quite adamantly, "It leaves us as friends!" Sadly he hasn't spoken to me since, and I can't help but feel hurt. I wasn't asking him to believe my religion, or even respect it for that matter, I just expected him to accept me as I had him. I never want to end a friendship with someone on the mere basis that we believe something different. Isn't that counter-productive for everyone?

The only thing left is the execution...

I spent most of my day reading brochures and such on study abroad information. Drifting in and out of the thought of actually going to England. For as long as I can remember, traveling has been one of my greatest desires, if not THE greatest desire. I fall asleep at night dreaming of all the places I haven't seen. I can not describe in words the nagging feeling I have in me telling me its time. Its as if I've waited my whole life thus far to travel, and now I'm old enough that I can and the thought of it simply makes me euphoric. All my life I've told people that I'm going to travel, and not just here and there, I'm talking about spending months in Spain, France, Italy, and Rome, with nothing but a backpack and a camera. I don't want to be that person that wishes they had seen more when they had the chance. Now is my chance, and I'm really quite determined to not let anything stop me. I think I was made to travel. I wish I could explain in words how much I want it. I think its somewhat like losing someone you love, or maybe loving someone your whole life that you've never been able to meet. I've been bolted down to one place, til now, and I feel as if I'm already pulling up roots and getting ready to leave. I'm not someone who can stand complacent, I've had 19 years to stand still. I'm practically screaming to leave. The only thing left to do is execute my plans. Just the thought of it makes me feel like I could fly.

Not in the mood

I've avoided writing for the last couple of hours because I haven't wanted to. I've had more than enough time to write ten entries, but I feel creatively drained. I am reminded of finals week, when I had an eight page paper due, and I couldn't do anything but stare at the empty screen before me. Nothing I wrote would ever flow and I pride my self for the writing flow I usually have that comes to me quite naturally. But now, like finals week, my entry somewhat resembles the writing of my C+ paper. It makes sense, the sentences have structure, and I got my point across, but there is no spark in the writing that makes it a pleasure to read. I envy the great authors whose writing just screams eloquence with every word. I suppose sometimes its better to write out when your at your worst, because not writing at all would be a sad showing of how you react when things are rough or even near impossible.

The mysteries of little children

I happen to have two younger siblings, whom to be quite honest I would usually rather strangle than take to a movie, but I found myself attending the Movies 10 dollar theater with them this morning by some mere whim of kindness. After going through the rather short line, the likely 16 year old girl gave me my tickets and gave me a brief smile, we proceeded to theatre 3. I did not envy her job. Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium was the movie, and after watching the previews for other movies I wanted to see, I was rather unexcited for the "feature presentation." With one little sister on my left, and the other on my right, I couldn't help but be happy for their excitement. Lia had taken my arm and weaved hers through mine as if to brace her self for the excitement to come. Moriya, now just 12, was trying to play it cool, but I could see the euphoria behind her eyes. The lights dimmed and the movie began. Surprisingly, I loved the movie. It was a cross of Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory with a Matilda essence that only Roald Dahl could think up. I left the theatre, truly feeling like a child. The spectacular cast, an amazing performance by Hoffman and Portman, left you with the feeling that maybe there really is magic. It sparked thoughts in my head that I didn't even know were there. I think I may have liked the movie more than both my little sisters combined. When you can find something, whether it is a book, a movie, or possibly even a person, that can make you feel like your six years old again, and the world is much bigger than it seems, but that everything is a possibility, it's something you have to hold on to. In Chris Van Allsburg's book The Polar Express we are reminded of the innocence and magic of believing in something. I think its something that everyone wants when they grow up, but they can't find it. Just like Mr. Weston, or as he is known in the film "The Mutant", adults can't see the magic anymore unless they believe in it, and most can't believe anymore. Anything you can find that can make you believe again, is worth holding on to. Believing in magic is a precious commodity that few have because most have lost it. The question is, Can you still hear the bell?

Theres always a begining

This is going to be a bit like word vomit, pardon if you've never heard the term. I'm going to just type what comes out and try not to stop. Sometimes I wonder about people. They are very curious things indeed. As I sit here in the Holladay Library, I see the comings and goings of all diferent characters. As a I look at each person, some smile, some don't even look at me, and others simply glance and then are on there way. It makes me wonder what each person is doing. What books have they checked out and where are they going to next. The library is simply a stop or errand on a list of to-do's for most. Similar thoughts come to my head when I go to the credit union. By some random cosmic chance, we run into diferent people that we have no connections with, and yet there we are connected in some small little way. I think of all the thoughts that run through my head as I take instant snap judgments of these people and the inexplicably diferent lives that we live. Yet I have this desire to want to know them, granted not everyone, but most. People are very interesting and you learn something from everyone... It makes you wonder what little imprints you leave on people, if any, no matter how insignifacant they are.