We need another Dr. King

In  church today we learned about honesty.
Martin Luther King Jr. was an honest man.

Alma 41:14
14 Therefore, my son, see that you are merciful unto your brethren; deal ^ajustly, ^bjudge righteously, and do ^cgood continually; and if ye do all these things then shall ye receive your ^dreward; yea, ye shall have ^emercy restored unto you again; ye shall have justice restored unto you again; ye shall have a righteous judgment restored unto you again; and ye shall have good rewarded unto you again. (http://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/alma/41.14?lang=eng#13)

This evening I watched J. Edgar Hoover. In this movie Martin Luther King Jr. was accepting the Nobel Peace Prize. My mom spoke up and said, do you remember when you wanted to win the Nobel Peace Prize? I said swifty, "Yeah, I still do." As I sit here typing, and as I sit back I think, I haven't thought about that honor since I was a nursing major. And I become more and more involved in human rights, and the duty I uphold as a BSW student. I will never change the world, on a large scale, but I can make my mark. (Like my massage therapist says, I may not leave a footprint, but I can leave my pinky print.) I can endure to the end, and like a college professor of mine told me earlier this week, "so long as you touch one heart, you've changed the world." So, no I don't want this honor . . . I want the honor to feel of someones love, to feel a person's change of heart, to feel this will be my most prized possession.

Martin Luther King Jr. is my hero. Ever since I was a little girl I thought so highly of Dr. King. He is someone I reach to be like. When I die I want people to think of a convicted, well spoken, loving, non-hate driven leader of the world kind of woman. I want to be in the history books. History is repeated! Not only the bad, but the good. I hope at least one person wants to follow after me, as I do with Dr. King.

This past week was emotional. I've had more tears than I know what to do with. I've had more questions than my brain could possibly process. This video enables me to relive these feelings, these questions, these worldly problems. I hope one day I can be as convicting as this man. I will never view him, the initial song in this video, or anyone else for that matter the same.

"With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day. This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning, "my country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty land, of thee I sing, land where my fathers died, land where the pilgrims cried, from every mountain side, let freedom ring. And if America is to be a great nation this must become true so let freedom ring . . . when we allow freedom ring . . . we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children; black men and white men, Jews and gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free and last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!""

Thank you for being a leader, a mentor, and a human rights activist for me to model after. I hope not only my God and Jesus Christ are there to meet me in Heaven, but also that you are there ready to hug and accept me for following after you and what you've left behind to get done. I love you.

Imagine

I've never been so touched in my life. This is truly beautiful. 

Hello lover,

Tonight as I sit here my mind goes to you. My thoughts are true, fluid and raw.

Here it is, my heart on my sleeve, for you . . .  seeing as how I cannot tell you to your face, I must tell you through my blog. I hope you read this one day, or at least get the chance to.

I've never told you how in love with you I am. I text you that night and asked if it would be weird to say I love you, the next day I did. It was real. It was powerful. It was love, the kind of love that you don't get second chances with. I told you about me, stuff that I haven't told many people in my life. Stuff that I've held too long in my heart. You broke me open. I was like a cork screw in a bottle of champagne. As you pulled I exploded; not only did you see all my beauty, but you saw my sadness and my secrets. You loved me more than I though I deserved. I finally loved myself. I'm forever indebted to you for this. You forced me to get to know myself. You forced me to face my weaknesses. You forced me to dance through the rain. Whenever I miss you I turn on this song called Hold Yuh by Gyptian. I remember the day I thought you were dancing and you said you were just "moving" - it made me giggle and made me fall more in love with you. Well, I "move" to this song whenever I miss you, my version of dancing. :)

Other things that made me fall more in love with you:
When you would say, "daaang".  I say it in my head all the time.
When you would laugh, and then get all serious.
Holding my hand, and feeling like you would always be there, even when you weren't.
Kissing my cheek - no man has ever done this, nor treated me the way you have.
Making my fears and/or sadness subside, making my happiness brighten.
Loving me, it was a different, very different kind of love.

You are the one. Without a doubt. No matter what I know we could make it. This kind of love doesn't just happen. This kind of love is special, eternity love. I need you in my life. Not the kind of need most people talk about. Not the kind of need that makes you have to give me something. The kind of love where just knowing you're out there somewhere in the world loving me is enough. Enough for me to be happy.

You are the best thing that's ever been mine.
My heart is so full. One minute I cry, the next minute I laugh.
Thank you for every memory. I remember feeling foolish for hugging you a long time every time before we parted ways (sometimes 2 or 3 times). I wish I would have held on, just a little longer.

Steel Cut Oats & Boiled Eggs

Boiled Eggs:

I made a dozen beautiful boiled eggs. How you ask? I placed the eggs in a pot with who knows how much water, because that really doesn't matter! I waited for them to come to a boil, once the boiling action was in play, I turned off the water and let them sit with the lid on for 12 minutes (mind you these are medium, if they were large it would be: 17 minutes, and if they were x-large it would have been: 19 minutes). I then placed them in cold water for another 12 minutes. They are beautiful!
(http://whatscookingamerica.net/Eggs/BoiledEggs.htm)

Steel Cut Oats:

I made 3 cups of steel cut oats meaning I have 12 servings of deliciousness! Wanna know how? Alright, I will tell you. I measured out 3 cups of steel cut oats, and it's a 4-1 ratio, so four cups of water per 1 cup of steel cut oats, which means 12 cups of water! Then 6 tbls. of butter, threw in some sprinkles of sea salt and some sprinkles of cinnamon (because cinnamon is delish). I then let it come to a boil before placing it on simmer, placing a lid on it, walking away and returning about 23 minutes later. It takes from 20-25 minutes. I am now eating some for dessert with Truvia on them! I am a pro, legitimately.
(http://www.cookusinterruptus.com/index.php?video_id=39)


Kari and I are moving in together in a little over a month. She will have to vouch for my amazing cooking skills then, so I have to sharpen them up. Plan to hear about further cooking adventures . . . maybe next time I'll take pictures.

Life is far too short . . .

God loves me.

God loves you. (Whether you believe in God or not, is not the matter. I know God loves everyone; more than you or I could ever even understand.)

Putting God aside, now. (This (tiny, but important) rant comes from people using the bible to justify helping people.)

People ARE people.

People ARE to BE respected.

People ARE to BE loved.

My Declaration to the world:

  I will stand up for the rights of others. EVERY person. EVERY right. EVERY life. This unconditional love is what I offer to humanity. I know a lot of people who stand with me. My dream is that everyone may be able to stand together, and accept everyone for who they are. By using our communication skills, we may be able to understand everyone's truth. By using our love and kindness, we can assist every person who appears in need and who does not appear in need. Too many people cannot handle living; they turn to unmentionable acts. So, love one another. Then that same person you were a confidant to will then be in your shoes one day. This person will love you the way you loved them. Some will ask how to take on this new way of living, thinking and learning. This question is not a difficult one to answer. Stop judging, stop hating, and love. Life is way too short to do anything else. I promise to love, to listen, and to spread more happiness then sadness. 

Always remember you are beautiful. Spread the word of love, because I don't want my children to grow up in a world full of hate.

Realization

That it's not easy. It never has been, and it never will be.

That God is right there. Always has been, and always will be.

That things change. Always do, and always will.

That people change. Always can, always do, and always will.

But, I tell myself to be patient.

But, I tell myself to be kind.

And, I tell myself it will all work out the way it's supposed to.

And, the more I tell myself these things, the more I want to do frivolous things.

Things that only I, myself, can understand and continue to love myself unconditionally for.

This heartbreak is one I brought on myself. Until I talk to my one and only true love I will continue putting myself through this hell. This hell that never lets me stop thinking, eating, dreaming or sleeping. Maybe that's why I never make sense when I talk. Maybe that's why I have gained weight.Maybe that's why I wake up missing you. Maybe that's why my body never wants to stop sleeping. But, whether I'm awake or asleep; my mind always wanders to you, and to our memories, though few and far between, they burned into my memory. 

This video depicts us so much better. 
I've been searching for one, because we both 
know I have a hard time with expressing 
myself, and lyrics do it better than I
ever thought possible.
Be the best you can be, I love you.

My words be trippin' over my feet

Instead of a rope it's my heart; 
this kind of tug-o-war is not my style.
I don't think forehead kisses will ever be the same,
or come close to the meaning you gave them.

Whether we make it out of this alive, and in love is out of my hands. 

I can no longer stress about it, nor worry about it in the lengths I do.

Life is passing me by, and I cannot put myself through this trauma.

You are the love of my life, quite possibly my soul mate.

Always remember: if it's mean to be, it will be.

I love you.

Ethnicity

I'm meant to be another ethnicity . . . I'm sure of it. There has to be a name for it. People can choose to not have a gender, so I can choose to not have an ethnicity, right? I'm so over being white. I really don't like my skin color. Who would ever want to loose the "privilege" of being white? Me. I would take the rich culture over having white skin. Asian's have the best food, African's have the best culture, and Mexican's have the best work ethic . . . all in my opinion. Man, I can't wait to learn why the Lord has put all these different ethnicities on this planet, and why white people think they have got it made. Get real!

Also, just so everyone is clear . . . the Human Race is the ONLY race on this planet. To explain this is ridiculous especially to a particular group of politicians, but this (topic/post/blog) will probably never be posted in my blog. 

As I said to my massage therapist this past week. What kind of heritage do American's have? Outside of pushing Indian's to the west and making African's our slaves? Starting Wars and keeping them going. Not understanding what the word "friend" and "love" really means. I'm a white American . . . lacking a lot of things, except for the knowledge that I AM NUMBER ONE! And I KNOW BEST! Yeah, sounds perfect right?

I may not leave a footprint, but I will leave a fingerprint in this world.


Please know that I love my "freedom" here in America, but I KNOW we are no different than developing countries. If you think we are maybe you have a little too much privilege. Come down to earth and look around. Thanks! :) I'm not a bitch, I promise . . . but a pissed off American. When you sit there and tell me to stop being so "pissed off", please switch me hearts for a moment so you can feel my sadness for a moment. I've seen way too much that has pulled at my heart strings and I just don't know how to let go of it, but through blogging. If you don't like it, don't read it. This is how I get rid of my guilt, by writing. I don't think my "white guilt" will ever diminish. 


Smile, because it's all only temporary. :) 

Long Time Coming: Tears

As I grew up, you weren't supposed to cry.

As I grow up, I cry more and more.

After a tragic incident in 2007 I really didn't feel.

I didn't feel like everyone else. I never felt stress. I never felt sadness. I never felt envy. I never felt any "negative" feeling. I only felt "happy" related feelings.

I didn't even understand what really happened.
As I get older, I am remembering things.

When I see something that reminds me of this incident I cry. When I cry I feel ashamed. When I feel ashamed I cry more.

Crying is such a funny emotion. Crying was always portrayed to me as a sign of weakness. Yet, when someone else would cry I felt something, something that was strong.

As I am going through life; realizing I was lied to. Having this "guilt" because of what people, white people, christian people, "my people". Some innocently did bad things to PEOPLE who didn't deserve it. Others have done bad things to PEOPLE, purposefully.

Indians, African's, African-American's, people with disabilities, LGBT individuals, under privileged people, INNOCENT people.

I feel guilt for MY people forcing the Indians to the Midwest/West . . . and forcing them to assimilate, yet to this day not allowing them the same opportunities I am granted. I am so angry, and this anger has turned into tears that sometimes I just cannot control.

But just like we cannot send every Mexican back to Mexico, the Indian's cannot send me or "my people" back to my "home country" because I would not KNOW anything about it.

Everything going on in my life doesn't help my feelings when it comes to this. I love America. I'm not saying I've given up. What I want to know is why I've had to get myself into debt to LEARN the TRUTH and why I couldn't have just been taught the TRUTH from the beginning.


This country is fucked up, and I'm so angry about it. 



Maybe one day I won't be ashamed of crying, maybe one day I will stop saying I'm sorry for showing emotion. When that day comes I will have personal liberation. I will no longer be chained. I will be free. 



“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.” 
― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Realizing you are different.

Realizing you're different is hard.
Thinking you found someone that you relate to.
A best friend even.
And getting your heart broken for the fifth time by a girl is hard.

This is my decision:

I am staying in Utah, and if he wants to be with me I think he should only serve for four years. Then go to school, and finish his degree so we can start a family. In this time (which he's serving), I can get grad school under my belt.


Being told, "you seem so much older than 21". Then saying "you're so much like my room-mate", who you complain about (who is 21), who you say I can relate to, and would get along with, doesn't make me feel very good about myself.

P.S. I quit facebook tonight/today.

My grammar sucks, my emotions are crazy, and I just want to have a baby so that I can feel constant love. Not a great mix, but this is life and life goes on, hopefully.