Handlebar Confessional

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints you're taught to share the things you know.  We call it "bearing testimony".  Sometimes the urge to share what you know comes at strange times.  Like when you're riding your bike from Waterton to Raymond on a Saturday afternoon.  And it goes something like THIS.

Don't be afraid to share what you know, eh?

Have a Happy Sunday!

Feelin' Like A...

I'm ultra competitive.  Somehow everything in my life turns into a contest.  I can't help it.

I can't just go to work and wait on tables.  I have to start contests with other servers to see who can sell more of the most expensive meal on the menu.  And you can probably imagine the thoughts running through my head as I tip out at the end of the night.

The same goes for sports.  I love to win, but even when I play on a team I somehow end up in a contest with another teammate seeing who can score the most goals.

With this sort of an attitude, it's only natural that I view my entire life as some sort of contest.  And at the moment, I feel like I'm losing.

Capital "L"

Yes, losing.  The person in last place.  I feel as if I missed the starter pistol.  I didn't hear the gun go off.  I fell asleep at the starting line, or maybe I tripped over my poor four-point start.  Now here I am.  Watching all my competitors race away with me left staring up from the track, covered in scratches and shale dust.  Dazed and confused.  Because I didn't even know I was in this race in the first place.  

Are you single?  Because you're in this race too.  

You didn't hear the gun go off either?  Phewf!  So I'm not the only one in last place!  

Yeah, I didn't know this was a race either.  But apparently it is.

READY, SET, GET MARRIED!!!

Okay fine, maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but I can't help but feel slightly justified in comparing the search for a spouse to a race.

Blame it on all the old acquaintances, relatives, and friends of my parents who feel the first question worth asking me is whether or not I'm dating anyone.

Blame it on the lady I barely know who asked, "Are you married yet?" and then went on to tell me how she felt "so old" to be tying the knot at age 20.  What does that make a 22 year old single person like me?  Ancient?

Blame it on the return missionary I wrote for two years who came home and proposed without giving us the chance to date first.

Blame it on that same return missionary who then married the first girl he dated after things collapsed between us.

Blame it on all the girls I met at EFY who are now married.  And I was their EFY counsellor.

Blame it on the 18 and 19 year old girls who make comments like, "I would rather die than not be married by the time I'm 22".

Is there really any wonder why I feel like I'm caught in a race?

Don't get me wrong, someday I hope to be married.  But why is there such a rush?

I legitimately understand that some young couples may very well be mature enough to wed or find the right one early on, but when I look around and see so many young couples divorcing, I can't help but feel that this race is more of a hindrance than a help.  

Thank goodness I didn't hear that gun go off!  Maybe it's not so bad to be a loser...

Although the thoughtless comments and attention focussed on my dating life oftentimes seems rude and obnoxious, I'm starting to realize that these people really do have good intentions.  They simply want me to be happy and feel that marriage is the best solution.  

Which then makes the actions of all the marriage-hungry suitors make more sense.  They're just trying to follow the advice of others in a quest for their own happiness.

Which then makes the impulsive and corrosive comments of young girls not hurt so much.  They just want to be happy and are afraid they won't be, should they end up being a 22 year old single girl.  

Hmm, maybe I'll just pick flowers and chase butterflies instead.  I don't really care to be in this race anymore...

Suddenly, I just don't feel like that much of a loser.  Although it might be hard to believe, I'm proud to admit that I'm a perfectly happy, 22 year old girl.  And it didn't take a white dress and a diamond ring to make me this way.

Disqualify me.  I quit.  I don't need to run this race.  I've already won it.

I am Kristen Gibb.  I am single and, despite what you may think, happy.

Decisions, Decisions.

Last week I decided to take a couple days off work to go on a great adventure.  I went on a road trip from Waterton to Edmonton.  All by myself.

Strangely enough, I was super excited.  The night before I even decided to make a playlist for all the hours I would be spending on the road.

Before leaving, I realized I've taken hardly any pictures all summer.  So I decided to make an effort to whip the camera out more often.

Here are some of the things I did...

Don't worry, I climbed Bear's Hump before leaving the park... 

I made random pit stops to check out things like this...  Let's just say it's a wishing well.

I went on my most favorite run from Bowness Park to the Bearspaw Dam.

I had the guy driving this truck tell me to call him as he drove past.

I hit up my most favorite store and got some sweet, sweet articles of clothing.

I went to a Baby Shower and met this handsome young fellow.

I FREAKING HELD A BABY!!!  (This is a huge deal.  I don't think I have ever done this before.  At least I can't remember ever holding a baby.  They scare me.  You can pretty much see the fear in my eyes.)

I went to the Calgary Stampede for the first time.

I ate a hamburger.  Another thing I haven't done in quite a while.

And I ate "those little donuts".  Gotta love Stampede food.

And just like that, my road trip ended.  I'm so glad I decided to go on it.  It was so worth it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Exactly one year ago, I made some pretty terrible decisions.  Decisions that lead to more terrible decisions as the remainder of the summer unfolded.  Decisions with consequences that haunted me for most of the past year.  Decisions that I have no intention of ever making again.

As I reflected on the decisions I made a year ago, I was so grateful that this week I made good decisions.  Decisions with positive consequences.  Decisions that have made me happier and better.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized exactly how important decisions really are.

DECISIONS DETERMINE DESTINY

My sister laughed at me when I told her that, but I firmly believe that the big and little decisions I make each day will have important and lasting consequences which will effect who I am, where I go, and how my life unfolds.  It's because I've seen it happen in my own life and I've also witnessed it in the life of another.

Meet one of my best friends, I call her "Hatchet".

She's the proud mother of a new, handsome baby boy and I adore her.  And her son.  Of all the people I know, my dear Hatchet is the epitome of making good decisions.

Hatchet was my roommate my first year out of high school.  She showed me the ins and outs of the Young Single Adult scene in Edmonton, helped me deal with homesickness, and dressed up like a gangster with me.  

Little does Hatchet know, but I carefully observed all the decisions she made.  And maybe copied them. (Hatchet, I don't dance with girls now either.  It weirds me out too.)  Hatchet consistently decided to go to Family Home Evening, clean the temple, give service to crippled people in our ward, and so on.  She also decided to visit an older couple living in the middle of no where on her way home for Christmas.  I know cause I was catching a ride with her and had to visit them too.

What fewer people know, is that Hatchet had high standards in regards to the boys she dated, which resulted in making many difficult decisions.  By watching her make these sorts of decisions, she taught me how important it is to expect certain things from a boyfriend, things I had never even considered.

Because of her consistently good decisions, Hatchet remains a shining example in my life of a destiny I can reach too.  Decisions really do matter.  A lot.  Thank you Hatchet for showing me that.

Puttin' Up a Fight

It's Sunday night.  And I'm just sitting here.  Struggling to blog about something.


It's not that my week was uneventful.  And it's not that I didn't think about and ponder and experience some neat things this week, because I did.


I had to say good bye to some of my best friends on Monday morning.

I got to sit on Bears Hump and listen to this song a few times.

I had a co-worker get really, really mad at me.  Oopsies!

My great friend Alyssa and I threw a terrific pool party, complete with tons of ice cream at my house after swimming.

I got to catch up with a little critter our family found in a hollowed tree beside our house.

And... I slept in.  More than once.  And I felt really bad about it.  Because each night before, I had told myself I was going to get up at a decent time and do something productive.  You know, like really seize the day.  Carpe diem and all that jazz.  But no.  As soon as that alarm would start ringing, I would get a killer case of "Apathy", the kind that completely wipes out all logical thought processes and renders the victim, in this case, ME, to nothing more than a subconsciously drooling and slumbering slob.  

Which brings me right back to where I started.  I am struggling to blog tonight.  Which has made me realize that not only do I struggle from this disease "Apathy" in the AM, it's creeping into my system in the PM!  This is a little frightening.

Do you know how much I could have accomplished by now in my life if I hadn't come down with this terrible disease?  Do you know how debilitating "Apathy" really is?!

If it wasn't for "Apathy" I would have... 

...started this blog almost 4 months before I did.

...jogged around 20 kms more than I did last week.

...said my evening prayers with a little more thought and regard last night.

...went out of my way to say "Hi" to more people at church today.

...probably written a book by now.

...done a lot of things that I haven't yet that I still want to do.

Fortunately, I was able to get a swift kick in the behind in regards to "Apathy", which has hopefully cured me, or at least triggered some sort of healing process.  

Last week, I dug out my old grade 12 yearbook to make a new page for my blog (you should check it out, it's up top and called "An Explanation").  While skimming through it, I came across the infamous last page, you know, the one that's mostly just print that no one ever takes the time to look at because let's face it, nobody reads anything in a yearbook.  Well, I did just the opposite and read it, but only because I was the nerd that got to write a portion of it and I wanted to know what I had to say back then.  Who knew my 18 year old advice would end up helping my 22 year old self so much.  Please enjoy, a portion of the last page of my yearbook...

"I never really thought that anyone ever took the time to read what the principal and student body president have to say at the end of the yearbook.  Mr. Beazer's last words are probably much more interesting than what I have to say, seeing how you had to listen to me giving the announcements every morning, while you probably never even heard Mr. Beazer say one thing all year.  Yet, if I've somehow managed to capture your attention, you must be expecting me to say something meaningful, perhaps profound.  Firstly, it would be a terrible shame for me to not comment on our excellence in both academics and athletics.  I would like to personally congratulate the student body on another year of continued and expanded excellence.  Now that I've got that out of the way, I'd like to provide you with a valuable piece of advice.  Fight teenage apathy.  Fight it for all you're worth.  Seriously, these are the best years of your life and most of use choose to sit back and watch them fly by.  The students attending RHS during the totally rad year of '007 are seriously an awesome bunch.  Yet, as "secret agents", our mission needs to be maintaining our awesomeness.  Don't retire to the confines of your comfortable niches, get out of your comfort zones and experience new things!  If you dream of being a professional square dancer, start today and don't be embarrassed!  If you want to be a world renown rabbit breeder, ignore the scoffs and scorns of those careless peers and do what you want!  Remember, "The World Is Not Enough!"  Thank you for giving me the opportunity to serve as Prez! - KGIBB"

Bring it "Apathy", I'm gunna fight you!

Monday Morning

1.  Every so often I find a song that relates to me just so perfectly that I can't help but listen to it on repeat for days.  At the moment that particular song happens to be "Monday Morning" by Death Cab for Cutie from their new album "Codes and Keys".

I cry out "Love keep your arms around me",

I am a bird that's in need of grounding,

I'm built to fly away, I never learned how to stay.

2.  My sister Hannah graduated this week.  I was able to make it to the "Fashion Show" where all of the graduates walk down a ramp modelling their spiffy gowns and tuxes while their plans for the future are being read to the audience.  It made me laugh to think of my own graduation and how certain I was my future would unfold exactly how the announcer was telling everyone when I was on that ramp.  I thank my lucky stars that I'm not where I thought I would be back then.  In fact, my future has since then been so entirely fluid that I honestly can't say where or what I'll even be doing this fall.  Only one thing is for sure, I'm going to be happy.

3.  Christmas has come and gone yet again this year.  Wait, I mean, July 1st.  I honestly love the July 1st weekend more than any other holiday. And I'm realizing it's not because of the beautiful weather, the home made root beer, the beef and beans, or the fireworks.  It's because of the people I get to spend time with.  Each year I'm more impressed and inspired by my cousins as I get to know them better.  I'm always going to cherish these memories of simply talking to them and observing their perspectives on life, because I can only see this holiday continuing to change into something very far from what it once was.  Life's too short and the First of July is too rare to pass up the chance to sing hymns with Grandma, sit and talk with Grandpa, and stay up far too late with cousins.  The only constant is change and I know it's going to hurt when this holiday changes.  For now, it's so refreshing to spend a weekend focussed on ultimately the only thing that really matters and brings true happiness: family.