Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
As much as I like having you here, it's different trying to blog to an audience when I blogged to no one through all of high school. Here goes me:
Sometimes I wonder if I could ever cry it all out. As if with every tear I could shed a piece of us. I don’t want it. The memories, or the scars, or anything. The haunting, fighting words. Songs and special looks. Chocolate and vanilla. It’s disgusting to me. And every day is a constant battle—trying to let go but so desperately holding on to what we were supposed to be.
And then him. I have never been so hopeful, yet so afraid of trust. It's confusing and frustrating like I've never before known. I don't know how to be or how to even understand what's happening.
I hope that made sense the way it did in my head.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Today was a good day to be Sarah. In fact, this whole week so far has been better than I deserve. I'm in love with my life. I have been blessed with a wonderful family and great friends.
I also scored 94% on my econ 110 test, which will likely be curved even higher. Yay for sealing the deal on another quarter of my grade:)
I don't know what else to say, except that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. The good news of the gospel is that Christ lives again, and that he loves us. If you haven't figured this out for yourself yet, then get on your knees and know.
That is all. Loves! (Especially for you, Mom.)
Monday, March 18, 2013
Well, it's been another crazy week for Sarah Kala Crandall.
My mission call has yet to be assigned. Today is day nineteen of waiting, and I have at least nine more to go. Unless if my call isn't assigned this Friday, in which case I'll have to wait longer.
I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I feel a hit to my self esteem. I feel inadequate, and unworthy of being called to serve a mission. Why else would my call be delayed longer than the prescribed "two to three weeks?" I know I have a couple medical concerns. I had to have a second evaluation, where I was told I might not able to serve until August or September.
So much anxiety. Way too much time to feel it all in me.
I also know that these kinds of thoughts aren't from the Holy Spirit. His messages to me are kind, uplifting, and full of light and truth. I'm trying so hard to focus a particle of faith on a belief of my individual and infinite worth. This is definitely my biggest weakness, and I hope that it will someday be a strength.
Other happenings: I performed in spring sing (wooooo?), scored well on a business finance test, had lunch with some good friends today, took an outdoor nap over the weekend, and I'm looking forward to lots of happy times as I finish out my second semester at the Y!
Thursday, March 7, 2013
It's the direct Hawaiian translation for Sarah. It also is the Hawaiian word for money, which is cool. BUT, if you separate it, it means the sun. Ka la. I think that matches me, and I love it. I love the beach. And the Beach Boys. I love summer and especially early summer morning sunrises. I love Sunny D. I love hiking, swing sets, and picnics. I love outdoor naps. I love the sun sun sun. And I am proud to have a name somewhat related to it.
Other sunny things in my life:
My mission papers have been in for a week
We learned futuro y futuro condicional en mi clase de espanol
I have a date this weekend
My family is great
I went to a mission prep fireside with Pres. Samuelson
I'm doing very well in all of my classes
FHE this Sunday
Yummy birthday cake is forthcoming
Being like a wok--a non-stick surface
I have housing set up for spring
And most importantly, feeling happy happy happy. And not worrying about feeling sad again. Feeling sad is inevitable, for everyone. So why should I let that interfere with my happiness now? I am the sun because I am bright and happy and I owe it all to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
Yesterday I did something for myself. I said "no" to the person who said "no" to me. They took advantage of me at a time when I was vulnerable and heart broken, and they even shamelessly admitted to it. Fast forward to now, and there they were again, asking for something from me. This, of course, after months of no contact. Something about my integrity and self worth restrained me. I politely declined and walked away.
I love myself. I've gone through years of hellish self-loathing, but now I love myself.
I'm imperfect, and far below my potential. Yet I'm also beautiful, hard working, determined, and resilient. I'm powerfully strong. My heart is full of love and hope, not resentment. My experiences haven't made me bitter. I won't give up and I refuse to let myself become cold, only careful.
And if there was any question as to who I am, this is me finally being me.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
I got up at 3:45 to make breakfast for Clarissa. She works an early morning custodial job, and I wanted to surprise her. When I finished, I made a quick bathroom stop before heading back to bed. This is where I saw him.
Mice, rollie pollie bugs, flies, whatever. I can handle that. But spiders? They are the most evil creature I have ever had the misfortune of coming into contact with. Just ask Amelia--bless her heart--who has killed multiple spiders for me over the years.
I couldn't just leave him there, right? He was in our bathroom closet! What if he crawled into Amanda's hair blow dryer? Someone's make-up supply? Or Q-tip box? Seriously. I had to take this spider down.
First, I could hardly see without my glasses or contacts. A pair of Clarissa's sat on the counter. I slipped them on and prepared myself with a giant wad of toilet paper and the trash can. Then I stared at the spider for the next five or so minutes. My heart was pounding incredibly hard. I heard Clarissa's alarm go off, her hit snooze, and go back to sleep. I was still paralyzed, too nervous to make a preemptive strike.
(I'm not even lying about this. I really did just stand there and stare at the spider for a couple minutes, trying to work up the courage to do something.)
The spider acted. In an instant he trans-located himself from the wall onto the shelf, hidden within the cords of a hair straightener. I squealed a little. (Which is pretty impressive, considering I felt like screaming.) In a moment of bravery I pulled the machinery away and swept the spider into the trashcan. I heard yet another squeaky-type yelp, which I assume came from my own mouth.
My heart raced even faster. I reached into the trash bag and lifted up the tissue. ALIVE! The spider survived my attack and was coming at my with a vengeance. I tied that creamery grocery bag faster than I have ever tied anything ever in my entire life--and I guarantee you that there have probably been lots of other times that I've likely had to tie things really quickly. I can't name any such situations, but I'm sure they've happened.
I very methodically tripped through the dark hallway and tore open the closet door to obtain a second trash bag. There was no way I was going to let that spider hurt me or my roommates. (I tend to get pretty mama-bear over these ladies.) ANYWAY, Clarissa must have heard the little noise I was making, because she came out of her room asking who had died.
I explained the situation. Especially why I was wearing her glasses. Freaked out a bit. Double bagged the spider. Ran out to the dumpster at 4:10 am. Hugged Clarissa. Went to bed. AND, finally fell asleep after I got over the creeper crawly feeling of thousands of spiders in my bed.
When Amanda and I got up this morning, I let her know about the circumstances of last night. She brushed it off! I almost DIED and she didn't care! She wouldn't have cared if I left the spider there! I reminded her of the scripture John 15:13 and she was all "whatever."
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
Love love love my girls <3 :)