I used to have an old Volcom shirt back in High School.  It had the words "The only constant is change" written all over it.

To 16 year old Kristen, those words meant very little.  They looked cool on my sweet shirt and that was all I really cared about.  And besides, sayings like that aren't even supposed to make sense right?  They're deep, you know, like, deep.  And deep means you don't waste time thinking about it.

Unfortunately, I got older and now I waste my time thinking about deep stuff.  Bumper stickers, commercials, T-shirts, you name it, I think about it.  And this Christmas I keep thinking back to that nifty Volcom shirt I had.

"The only constant is change."

The only thing you can count on in life is that things will change.

It's inevitable.

So choose to embrace it.

Love it.

Look forward to it.

Give it a hug.

This Christmas is different from all the rest.  Things have changed.

We have a new pet in the Gibb home.  Peetree.  She likes to climb the tree and knock all the ornaments on the ground.


There's pretty much no snow.  Anywhere.  This little change is actually quite nice.



We had Christmas Eve with Grandma and Grandpa Gibb.  It was a pleasure to give them their first fondue experience.



There's a boy sharing Christmas with us this year.  Fiance Jon has come down for his first taste of the Gibb family Christmas.



My friends.  Bless their hearts.  They're all grown women.  They have husbands.  They're having babies.



Things are changing.  And they always will be.  So just give change a hug.

Give it a Hug.

12.25.2011

Live life in crescendo.

Keep moving, don't stand still.

Don't procrastinate.

You fail only if you quit.

Don't eat after 8 pm.

Do something everyday that gets you out of your comfort zone.

Focus on what you want, ignore what you don't want.

Find your passions.

Don't waste your precious time.

Commit to continuous learning.

Drink 8 glasses of water every day.

Expect only the best and you will get the best.

Don't get comfortable.

Welcome every morning with a smile.

Exercise everyday for at least 30 minutes.

Early to bed and early to rise.

Never neglect the little things.

Live this day as if it will be your last.

Sounds like the recipe for a successful and magnificent life right?  Or like the chapter headings from a Stephen R. Covey book.  Or like something a magazine suggested to help you combat the stresses of everyday life.  Or like the answer your Mom or Grandma has to solve all of life's troubles.  Or like the extremely high expectations you have for yourself that, despite all of your best efforts, always seem eternally out of reach.  

What these little sayings all have in common is that they intend for you to feel like this...


... but leave you feeling more like this when you aren't quite able to reach them.


Who knew that such a little sentence could make you feel so crappy about yourself?  Or maybe it's just me.  I'll admit straight up there was a time when I would lay awake at night and just think...

"Crap, I didn't drink 8 glasses of water today."

"Shoot!  I really wasted my time today.  I should have studied more."

"Aww man, I forgot to exercise today.  I suck."

And then I'd beat myself up a little bit over it and resolve to do better tomorrow.  Except usually tomorrow entailed exactly the same thing yesterday had.  So basically I got after myself every night.  

Fortunately, someone showed me the solution to this problem.  

A while ago I was visiting my Aunt Marge.  


I love my Aunt Marge.  I don't think I know anyone more fun and optimistic than her.  When I grow up, I want to be my Aunt Marge.

Anyways, while I was with Aunt Marge, she started telling me about this dear lady she had spent some time with who had a problem with feeling inadequate.  The poor woman had just opened up in telling my Aunt that she felt like she could never do anything right.  She was chronically upset with her performance in life and nothing she did ever seemed good enough.  

After telling me this sad story, Aunt Marge said, "She needs to lower her standards.  We all just need to lower our standards."

I couldn't help but laugh.  Having grown up in a religious home, standards were something you held high and stopped at nothing to follow.  Standards governed your life.  No matter what.  But then I gave her suggestion a second thought, and now I can't agree more.

Lower your standards.

I'm not suggesting that you go out and start smoking weed or steal a car, or any other things that are against your moral standards.  I'm suggesting that you set the bar to a place where you can actually reach it before raising it sky high when it comes to your personal standards.

I'm suggesting it's okay to take a day off or to procrastinate when you really need a break.

I'm suggesting it's alright to eat a second helping of dessert.

I'm suggesting it's perfectly fine to mess up and then laugh at yourself.

I'm suggesting it's good to slip back into your comfort zone occasionally. 

I'm suggesting it's not against the law to take a day off from your suffocating standards.

Lowering your standards doesn't mean you're giving up, it simply means your bringing the sky a little closer to your reach.  Because let's face it, when you're constantly tearing yourself down about the little things, you're pushing the big things, like happiness, further and further from your reach.  


So quit setting standards that are absolutely impossible to follow.  They're there for the purpose of making you happier right?

Lower Your Standards.

12.18.2011

I received a request for a blog post.  I love requests.

The request was for an introduction to my fiance.

So without further adieu, allow me to introduce you to Jonathan Ruiz, or rather, Ponytail Jon.

Why Ponytail Jon?

Last winter semester, Jon had lovely long hair that he would pull into a ponytail for our intramural soccer games.  I ended up getting a minor concussion during one of our games which I later blogged about.  To make the post a little more sensational, I gave key characters nicknames.  Unfortunately I don't have a picture of the ponytail.  I do however have a picture of the rattail Jon sported during the summer.



How did we meet?

Institute class.  It was a Book of Mormon class on Tuesday afternoons at Mount Royal.  As creepy as this sounds, I knew who he was.  Only because a friend of mine had messaged me during the summer telling me about him.  And I may or may not have looked him up on Facebook.  The first thing he said to me in that class was, "You don't like snow?!"  The first thing I said to him was, "I beat you", after racing to the scripture the teacher had just asked us to look up.  Needless to say, Jon and I are both a little competitive.  My favorite story is about the text he sent to a friend just after our first class.  I think it said something like, "I just met my future wife."

First Thoughts?

"He has a moustache."  I've never been a huge fan of facial hair and this guy was rockin' a mean 'stache.  It turned out though that he had a reason for his facial hair madness.  Jon had been accepted to compete on an episode of Wipe Out Canada and was therefore growing facial furniture in order to gain a competitive advantage, because nobody takes a guy with a moustache seriously right?  Haha, Just kidding!!!



He was on Wipe Out Canada?

Yup.  Jon is a real life reality TV star.  He went to Argentina for a week to film an episode and was then sworn to nearly eight months of secrecy regarding the outcome.  He's kind of a big deal.


First Date?

I took the bull by the horns and invited Jon to Preference.  But then it turned out that I couldn't get work off, so I promptly "uninvited" him (I'll never live that one down).  He later invited me to his work Christmas party.  And I started dating another guy a week after that.  After that relationship ended, Jon promptly invited me to the Sweet Hearts dance for Valentine's Day that weekend.  So I believe I'll say that is our first real date.  And it was a lot of fun.


First Kiss?

Well wouldn't you like to know!  Okay fine, it was at his parent's house after watching Willow with his family.  He held my hand and we decided we should start dating.  Then we may or may not have kissed on the lips.


How long did we date?

Well, all together I guess it was only like three months.  Gosh, that sounds bad.  However, Jon and I have been great friends for almost a year now.  I can easily call him my best friend.


Is he taller than me?

By a hair.  Sometimes I swear I'm taller than him, but we have photographic evidence that I am not.  In fact, I can even wear heels and he's still taller than me.  Which is really impressive.


Fun Facts...


Once upon a time I went to Mexico for a holiday.  And then Peru for another holiday.  And during these holidays I fell in love with the charming good looks of the latino men.  Well, Jon is half latino, his father is from Ecuador.

Another time I went on a holiday to Mexico.  Jon's birthday was coming up so I bought him a gift down there.  Jon then spent his entire summer wearing it.  Meet the Snakeskin...


Jon is super duper athletic.  It makes me jealous how naturally everything comes to him.  Like the one time we went cliff jumping. 


I love to explore abandoned houses.  One time I made Jon explore one with me.  As a joke I said, "Yes, this one's pretty nice, we should think about making an offer.  There are a lot of bedrooms for the kids and the work shop out front will be nice for your projects."  To this day our hearts are still set on settling down by Granum in this beauty.


Jon has a tender heart.  After going down to Raymond so he could ask my Dad permission, I knew I was going to be proposed to shortly.  So when he took me out for dinner at the Calgary Tower I was pretty sure this was it.  However, after we finished eating, he started fidgeting and acting funny.  You see, he had planned to trick me.  He wanted to get down on one knee after dinner to then only begin tying his shoe, but he just couldn't.  Instead, he grabbed my hand, told me he loved me, and then said, "... but I'm not proposing, I'm sorry."



Jon loves to play fooseball with me.  Because I SUCK.  And not just like casually suck, I major suck.  And it makes me mad.  And then I do things that I wouldn't do in real life, such as scream and kick things.  In fact, Jon loves playing fooseball against me so much that he proposed to me while doing so.  Last Thursday he stuck a ring box in the slot were the ball comes out and, after finishing a game, suggested that we trade sides.  As we started to play another game, I was in the zone because I didn't want to lose as badly again.  So when it came time for me to fish out the ball from my slot, I simply shoved that random box out of the way and grabbed the ball without wasting a moment to wonder what the heck a box was doing in the slot.  Jon let me finish the game before suggesting I take the box out.  However, the box was empty - YOU SNEAKY JON! - so I threw it at him.  Finally he pulled another box out of his pocket, to which I said, "It's probably empty too!" (Yes, by this time I had completely slaughtered his proposal).  Turns out it wasn't empty.  And I said yes.


And there you have it, that's my fiance Jon!

Ponytail Jon

12.11.2011

I really dropped the ball, I mean blog, lately.  But I believe I have a legitimate excuse.  I'll get to that later though.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the advice I've been given throughout my life; how some of it has been complete rubbish and other parts have been real pearls of wisdom.  Take for example the following pieces of advice I have received and used:

1.  "The Master Cleanse is a great way to lose weight quick."

FALSE.  This piece of advice is much better stated as: "The Master Cleanse is a great way to waste away while having the worst breath of your entire life.  Oh, and you will also be miserable."  Perhaps the idea of drinking nothing but lemon juice, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper for as long as you can sounds exhilarating to you, but this little piece of advice has only lead me to feeling weak, wasted, grumpy, hungry, and incredibly disappointed.  This has officially been given the seal of: BAD ADVICE.

2.  "Who is John Galt?"

I will always be grateful for the church leader that suggested I read the book "Atlas Shrugged".  That was a piece of GREAT ADVICE.

3.  "Complainers complain."

This little ditty is my Father's crowning glory.  Dad Gibb likes to say this whenever any of us start to throw a pity party.  At first I thought he was losing his marbles because it was the epitome of obvious.  Duh, of course complainers complain.  And whiners whine, singers sing, and runners run.  Yet after spending an afternoon or two thinking about what the heck my Dad could be meaning by this, I came to a simple conclusion.  What you spend the majority of your time doing, that will come to be a large part of who you are, a title even.  So if you're going to spend a great deal of the day complaining, you're very likely to become well known as a complainer.  Decide what you want to be known as and then start acting that way.  Thanks Pops, that was a piece of GREAT ADVICE.

As of late, the piece of advice I've spent the most time reflecting on came from this lovely woman, my Grandma Gibb.


Back in September I went down to visit my Grandparents and some cousins.  It was a great day.  We spent the afternoon catching up and then went down to the river bottom for a hot dog roast.  After eating the most delicious dogs and mallows, it eventually came time to go our separate ways.  I said good bye to my Grandparents and as I was walking away, my dear Grandma called me back.

"Kristen, be nice to Jon."

HA.  I had just starting dating this Jon character like a week earlier and my Grandma was already telling me to be nice to him.  I couldn't help but laugh a little before reassuring her that I would treat Jon nicely.

She seemed a little flustered, as if I didn't get her point, so she added,

"Kristen, it's okay to fall in love."

SAY WHAT?!  Maybe for other girls, just not for me.  Love is for crazy people, and besides, I had literally only started dating Jon about a week ago.

Well, to make a long story short, that little sentence stayed in the back of my head throughout the past few months.  At first, considering it was like thinking about a fairy tale, pleasant yet simply out of reach.  But as the weeks stretched on, Jon proved to be just too good to be true.  And that was scary.  Thank goodness for that little piece of advice reassuring me that "it's okay to fall in love", because I'm not sure I could have as gracefully without it.

Grandma Gibb, that was GREAT ADVICE.  I'm proud to say I took it and I'm exceedingly grateful that you offered it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this...


Jon proposed and I said yes.  And because I've just been so busy flirting with him and trying to win his heart these past few weeks, I haven't really had time to blog.  Which leads me to a piece of advice I'd like to offer:

"It's okay to let a boy become you're number one priority."

I love you Jon.

Advice

12.08.2011

You may be wondering why there hasn't been a recent post on this blog. I too have been craving something mind boogling to get me through the week, but the truth is I have KIDNAPPED her. I have stolen her time and, I'll admit it I'm selfish, only want her spending her free time with me. So what if her mind is beautiful and her posts mind provoking, I'm keeping it all to myself. No more will she be posting anything on here as she will only be versing them to me during our times together UNLESS.... you pay me a bajillion dollars. You have one week.

Love
Juan

Dear Readers of Kristen's Blog

12.05.2011

I once fancied myself a punk rocker.  Like back in grade 8.  I listened to cool bands like Simple Plan and wore a studded belt.  I'll admit straight up I was just copying whatever music Jessica and Tina were listening to.  Jessica introduced me to the glorious AquaBats and the first time I heard Good Charlotte was with Tina.

The other day when I was walking to my car after school, I suddenly remember the good old song "Little Things" by Good Charlotte.  What a great song.  So much angst and teenaged emotion.  So I started thinking about all the little things in my life.  However, as a happy-go-lucky twenty-something they were quite a bit different from the little things in the song.

If I was a punk rocker, the little things I'd be singing about would be something like this:


Chinooks.  The weather has been SO nice this week.  Who knew that a little wind from the west (okay, maybe it's not that little) could make the weather so nice in November!


Doubles on license plates.  They give me a reason to punch someone.  Just kidding, I'm not a violent person, but I love to start games with people and the license plate game is one of my favorite.  


Free parking just a stones throw away from school.  I refuse to pay money for a transient plot of pavement.  The streets of free parking help me get up earlier and give me a little bit of exercise each day.  What a sweet deal!


A cute little house so close to school.  I love where I live.  My roommates are a hoot too!  


Naps.  I haven't had one in a while.  But they're really great.  And I'm a huge creep --- Jon, I took a picture of you while you were sleeping.  Thanks.


Instagram and a phone with a camera.  I suck at taking pictures.  But these two little things are really helping me out.  For example, I never would have stopped on a walk to take a picture of this little saying on the sidewalk, but because it's now so easy to just whip my phone out and then put a spiffy filter on, I feel like a pro photographer.  

I find life just so much more interesting when I let the little things become exciting.  Sometimes you just need to take a second to think about what something as simple as a warm wind from the West does for your life.  Then you can do something crazy and choose to be grateful for it.  It might make each day a little better than the last.

The Little Things.

11.23.2011

When I was little, I could spend hours playing this board game.


There was just something so fascinating about driving a miniature car through the maze-like course of years and experiences.  I was absolutely intrigued by the chance you took in drawing three cards to determine your career, your salary, and your home.  It was thrilling to fill your car up with more people pegs: a spouse, a baby boy, a baby girl, and twins!  Basically, I just loved how many ways your "life" could unfold and this board game provided me with the ability to vicariously live out all the possibilities.

Honestly, I don't really know how you win The Game of Life.  Of all the games I play, this is the only one I didn't really play to win.  I guess it probably comes down to who earns the most money, but usually by the time I'd roll into retirement I'd start taking the game down so I could play it again.  I love The Game of Life.

Today, I just plum love life.  


There is just something so fascinating about how the small choices and years come together to shape you into the person you are today.  I am absolutely intrigued by the possibilities and probabilities of where my life can go, what career I might follow, what my salary might be, and what sorts of houses I might live in.  I am thrilled to start figuratively "adding pegs to my car".  

Honestly, for this "game of life" I have an idea on what it means to win and I fully intend to.  A little while ago I blogged about having an eternal perspective, and I believe this is the perspective necessary to pull off a victory.  

So in true dork form, I've began analyzing things.  Critiquing my life.  Grading my progress.  This is what I've come up with.  


While out in Lake Louise last month for the Recreation Summit, there was one afternoon during a plenary address where it suddenly hit me that I needed a life report card.  Like really bad.  And I needed it RIGHT THEN.  I'm sure the other recorders sitting around me thought I must have forgotten to take my Ritalin that morning or that I was just super disrespectful to the speakers, but I couldn't stop myself.  I needed a report card.  Which is where that horrendous looking web diagram comes into play.  

I started by breaking my life down into categories.  Above are the seven categories I decided that cover practically my entire life.  After that I broke them into sub-categories.  And after that I proceeded to go around the entire web diagram assigning a letter grade score to each aspect of my life.  So what, I'm a nerd.  This is what that looked like.


Then those grades averaged to give me a grade on each category.  And then all the categories averaged to give me my overall LIFE GRADE.  Wow... I'm embarrassed putting this on my blog.  I'm beginning to see the magnitude of my nerdery.  But trust me, there is a point to this.  

After receiving grades for the various areas of my life, I realized I was acing the part of my life that doesn't matter all that much, namely, school.  And then I was really, really failing at the parts of my life that matter the most.  This is what my report card looked like:

School
A+
Church
B+
Dreams
D
Friends
C+
Family
C-
Health
B+
Work
C
Kristen Gibb
B-/C+


Now to sum this all up, I guess what I'm trying to say is this.

Life's a game and each must play their part.  Instead of starting out with $25,000 worth of paper money, we're given Time.  Instead of spinning a dial with the numbers 1 through 10, we're given agency.  Instead of following a maze-like course of squares stating the phases of life, we chart our own paths.  You can chose to compete, playing this game like each hour matters, like each relationship you foster counts, and like each piece of knowledge you gain is important.  Or you can chose to drift through, where the days melt together into meaningless and indistinguishable monotony.  Unlike the board game of my childhood, we can only play this game once and then it's all over.  Don't let the real game of life be as meaningless and dull as a board game.  

Decide now what matters.  When I'm old and grey, I'm not going to look back on the entirety of my life and think, I wish I could have had a 4.0 GPA back in college instead of that 3.0 I managed.  I'm going to reminisce about the people I wish I could have known better or the testimony I wish I could have grown stronger.  

Real life can be won.  There just happen to be areas of life that will lead you to a deeper and more meaningful victory.  

The Game of Life

11.20.2011

I haven't really been making any plans.

Don't get me wrong, plans are good.  Emme, you're completely right.  I guess what I'm trying to do is just chill out a little bit.  And I've done just that the past two days.

I guess the biggest thing I've accomplished since Sunday is just embracing and doing what I want to do, rather than slaving away at what I've convinced myself I need to do.

I'm realizing that more often than not what I need to do doesn't really need to be done at all.  In reality, I didn't need to do any homework on Monday.  So instead, I did what I wanted.  

Turns out what I wanted to do was spend the morning studying current events, watching TED talks, and doing pilates and laundry.  It also turns out that what I wanted to do was spend the afternoon kidnapping my boyfriend and exploring some not-so-abandoned farms north of Calgary (if I would have seen the satellite dish on that house from the road, I never would have wandered into that old farm...).



What I wanted to do today was go buy some books.  I'm only one chapter in and I have a feeling this one might transform me.  


It's literally about just slowing your life down.  We're so caught up in fast forward.  Perhaps this is what  I really meant when I said I wanted to quit planning.  Maybe I just want to slow down.  Here's a snippet:

"Being Slow means that you control the rhythms of your own life.  You decide how fast you have to go in any given context.  If today I want to go fast, I go fast; if tomorrow I want to go slow, I go slow. What we are fighting for is the right to determine our own tempos."

It's amazing to realize the things I've subconsciously been dying to do.  Don't get me wrong, I still take care of what needs to happen.  I studied for and wrote a test this morning.  I did my laundry on Monday.  But since letting my wants have more of a say, I'm finding myself to be more productive.  I'm actually accomplishing more.  Maybe this is what that delicate word "balance" is all about.

I have a favorite saying.  I use it a lot during the summer time.  "CHERISH THIS."  Maybe that's all there is to reducing the amount of planning I do and decreasing the overall speed of my life.  I'm going to CHERISH THIS.  Cherish this semester.  Cherish the snow.  Cherish being 22.  Cherish studying the scriptures.  Cherish reading and learning new things.  Cherish the time spent with family.  Cherish living with roommates.  And best of all, cherish dating.  I think Bob says things best in regards to cherishing dating.  


Cheers to less planning.  Cheers to slowing down.  Cheers to cherishing.

Takin' er Easy

11.15.2011

Setting:  A large, open room in a community centre.  Folding chairs are arranged in a circle in the centre of the room.  Distant and uncomfortable looking people of all ages, genders, and backgrounds sit in these chairs.  They are wearing name tags.  A bold and confident group facilitator stands at the head of the circle.  

Group Facilitator:  Alright, let's get started here.  Welcome to your first Planners Anonymous meeting.  I'm sure we all know why we're here and what we would like to accomplish, so let's not waste any time.  I want to know about each one of you and why you are here seeking help with your planning addiction.  Let's start with you miss, tell us about yourself.

Kristen Gibb:  My name is Kristen Gibb and I am undeniably a chronic, insufferable and helpless PLANNER.  Yes, I have always been this way.  I am guilty of being the kid that would plan how the course of a game of House would unfold.  I am guilty of being the friend that would plan the events of an evening of "hanging out".  I am guilty of being the girl that would plan today, tomorrow, the next day, next month, next year, retirement and so on.  I am guilty of being a planner.  And I am here because I want help in stopping this madness.

Group Facilitator:  Thank you Kristen, I'm sure we can all relate to your sentiments.  Let us continue, sir, tell us about yourself....



Yes, I know there is no such thing as Planners Anonymous.  But there are times that I desperately need an intervention of this sort.  

Yes, I have diagnosed myself with Planner-itis if you will.

As a young girl, I loved to spend hours playing the magnificent game of MASH.  And to be honest, I still sometimes get a kick out of playing it.

As a teenager, I had the course and route of my entire college education mapped out before I had graduated high school.  And to be honest, I even started planning exactly what I wanted after college.

As a young adult, I introduced "the list" into my life, where I would plan each and every single day before going to bed, down to the details of exactly what I would, how much I would drink, how I would exercise, and so on.  And to be honest, the list still makes a debut every so often.

The good news is that I recognize this is a weakness.  And I'm willing to change.  

Earlier this week I realized that extensive, compulsive, and obsessive planning tends to be a barrier or stumbling block more often than not.  Although I do it thinking that I am opening the path to my future, preventing any delays, and avoiding any unexpected events, I'm actually taking away from the present because I'm so distracted with the future.

For example, I find I'm often so caught up with being efficient with school and my homework that I miss out on genuinely participating in my classes and with my classmates.  I'm always thinking of and planning what needs to be done.  I'm so caught up in what will take place next, after that class, after I'm done at the gym, after I'm done my homework, that I miss out on truly being present while I'm doing the actual task at hand.

Another terrible side effect of Planner-itis is how I miss out on the beauty of the unexpected.  For example, dating.  Perhaps I'm a freak, but I'll admit to ending relationships simply because I can't see the guy or the situation or the current route fitting into my plans.  I smother out the potential of the present with a narrow minded dedication to the future and my plans.  But the great thing about dating is that you are constantly filled with the butterflies of not knowing what the future holds for you and special someone.  For me, it's always just been moths nesting on my stone cold insides that are solely focussed on the pursuit of the future and my plans.

So, in an effort to combat my Planner-itis I will plan just one more thing.  I plan to follow this prescription as treatment.

RX:  No plans this week.
No thinking of the future.
And blog about it.

And that is all I plan to do this week.  

Put The Pen Down.

11.13.2011

I have been a student for over 15 years of my life.  Long story short, I really like school.  I love to learn, I don't mind studying, and writing papers can even be sort of fun.

Right now I am a university student enrolled in the Bachelor of Business & Entrepreneurship - Sport & Recreation program at Mount Royal University.  I love this program and I love Mount Royal.  


My faculty at Mount Royal is phenomenal.  One of my teachers is the current President of the Canadian Paralympic Committee.  He is so well known and affiliated with everyone in the sport and recreation community that all of us students practically worship him.  Because of him, our classes are littered with guest lecturers; last year we had the privilege of hearing from Patrick Jarvis, a member of the International Olympic Committee.  

A month ago, this amazing teacher of mine was asked to provide three student volunteers to act as recorders at the Canadian National Recreation Summit.  I was fortunate enough to receive his invitation and got to spend four days in the beautiful Lake Louise surrounded by the most intelligent and influential people in my field of study.  There I was required to attend all the speakers, panels, and discussion workshops, where it was my duty to viciously type down all the brilliant and innovative ideas these people had for the future of recreation in Canada.

Since this excellent milestone in my career as a student it feels as if I have learned more in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life.  Allow me to share some of these lessons with you:

1.  The table I want a chair at.
On the first day of the Summit there was an orientation meeting for all the student recorders, discussion workshop facilitators, and Summit planners and organizers.  Like all formal meetings, this one started with introductions.  I was astounded as everyone listed their accomplishments, credentials, and passions.  Hands down I was the smallest and most insignificant person in the room.  Having grown up in a small town and only accomplished two years of my degree I literally had the least to bring to the table.  Surrounding me were grad students, researchers, presidents of organizations, quite literally the best of the best.  I realized that each seat at that table cost a lot to sit at.  It cost years of school.  Hours of networking.  Pages and pages of dissertations, thesis', peer reviewed articles, and academic papers. And days, or probably months, maybe years of time literally spent dedicated and endeavouring in meetings and conferences to make their way to the top in the field of recreation.  Before I could even ask myself whether or not this was a price I wanted to pay, my mind was screaming, "NOOOOOOO!"  While sitting as a student at the table on the top of my future career I realized it's not the table I really want a chair at.  The table I want a chair at is crammed in the corner of a small apartment, doubling as extra counter space, where a young man and I will eat and study our scriptures.  The table I want a chair at is stained by spilled juice and crayons and has booster chairs pulled up to it.  The table I want a chair at will often have the leaf put in to seat neighbours, family, and friends at.  The table I want a chair at will be the hub of activity in "a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God." (D&C 88: 119)


2.  I'd rather blog.
On the last night of the Summit the student recorders were asked to meet together to discuss our observations and write a list of recommendations to present the delegates on the following morning.  This meeting could best be described as the sort of thing that happens in a chicken coop.  Every student was eager beyond belief to share everything they had to say.  Except one.  While everyone was verbally exploding to share their thoughts and make a mark in the proceedings of the Summit, I sat back staring at my watch, counting down the minutes until I could slip away from the cacophony to blog the night away.  I realized that although I may be studying recreation, it's not my biggest passion.  If someone would have told me a year ago how much I would come to love blogging, I would have laughed in their face.  I can't believe how much I love typing out my little epiphanies, whims, and thoughts.  I love learning from the comments people share with me.  I love getting to know and hearing from new people in the blogging community.  I love the kindness of people suggesting that I should write a book.  (What in the world would I write a book on?!)  Long story short, I love blogging more than school.  I'm more passionate about my daily learning and blogging endeavours than sport and recreation.  I just wish I could justify blogging over studying, but I'm just not quite there yet.  Remember, I am a huge nerd and school has always been my biggest passion, so I'm not used to this new discovery.


3.  A B in Stats isn't a B in life.
I wrote a stats midterm yesterday.  Yup, a midterm on a Saturday.  I prepared as much as I could.  I wrote out a lovely formula sheet.  I ate a good breakfast.  And as I wrote the test, I got stumped on a question and wasted all my time on it.  When the teacher told us we had only four minutes left, I realized I had skipped over a question.  Worth over 10 marks.  As I scrambled to finish it, I realized I probably wouldn't be getting the grade I expected or wanted.  My fears were confirmed just minutes ago.  I got a B.  If I would have got a B in High School, I would have cried.  Haha, I'm embarrassed, what a baby!  Fortunately, I've grown up some, gained some confidence, and learned enough about life to realize that the grades I get in school do not reflect the type of person I am or how well I am doing in life.  Don't get me wrong, school is important.  But I'm beginning to realize being happy with who you are, what you're doing, and where you're going is far more important.  Life isn't over when things don't go according to plan.  In fact, life gets better because you are given an opportunity to learn and grow.

Life lessons are the best lessons.  It's just an added bonus that I'm learning these lessons at school.

Things I Learn In School.

11.06.2011

I hear a lot of complaints these days.  They come from girls.  And they're about boys.



I never get asked out on dates!

All the guys I know are either weirdos or whores!  (excuse my language...)

Guys only want to hang out!  

I'm never going to get married!

No guys have their head on straight, they just want to play and have fun!

Guys only want action!

I could never trust a guy, they're all cheaters, liars, and addicted to pornography!

Well, here and now, I want to propose something controversial.  I want to throw the ball into the other court.  I want to turn the blame.  I want to suggest the alternative.  And then I want to plea that you follow my advice.  Yes, I'm talking to young, single females.  I'm talking to the Kristen Gibb from a year or so ago.  And I'm talking to anyone who will read, even if you're a dude.  And I offer a disclaimer; I'm LDS and my perspective is most definitely biased towards my religion.  I am also a girl, so any guy perspectives given are bound to be inaccurate, simply because I'm guessing how the male brain works.  Now allow me to talk you through my mind in a question and answer style...

Q:  Have things always been this way?  
A:  When I say things, I mean the current trends and situations in today's dating scene.  And I answer that with a loud and resounding NO!  And reply with another question:  Has society always accepted women being as forward as they are today?  Because that is another NO!  Go ask your mom, go ask your grandma, "Did you ask boys on dates when you were my age?", "Did you call boys and ask them to come hang out with you?", "Did you ever pull the first move on a guy?"  I'm pretty sure they'll say, wait for it, NO!  Don't get me wrong, I'm all about Women's Rights, it's great that women are moving ahead in the workforce, that they can vote, and most of all, that we can wear pants.  I'm pretty sure I would hate going on a jog in a dress or skirt.  But as girls exercise their increased freedom in the dating scene, they're trampling, squishing, murdering, and massacring that special responsibility reserved for guys.  And as sociology has proven, guys don't like to being belittled or having their toes stepped on.  So they simply withdraw.  Why ask girls on dates, they're doing it.  Why ask girls on dates, they'll just call me to hang out.  Why put myself out there and hold a girls hand, they'll do it eventually.  Solution? Go watch a movie (or read a book!) like Pride & Prejudice, Little Women, or any old-fashioned story that is overflowing with chivalry and where men and women are filling their roles in dating situations the way they were supposed to be filled.  Then apply that to your life.  I'm not saying to avoid guys, I'm saying to avoid their responsibilities.


Q:  Whose fault is it?
A:  If you compare the transcripts from the Relief Society Broadcast and the Priesthood Session from General Conference, you'll notice that the women of the Church get a loving pat on the back and the men get a stern lecture every six months.  Don't let this build your ego up too much ladies.  Here's where I pour a strong dose of controversy into my blog.  I believe girls today are just as much at fault, if not more, than guys are when it comes to the lack of marriages and the disintegration of proper dating relationships.  There.  I said it.  Here's why.  I mentioned above that girls have changed the face and shape of dating by becoming fearfully forward fanatics when it comes to relationships.  But this is not the entirety of the problem.  It goes much more deep than this.  Allow me to explain.  Girls, admit it, we're born with this uncontrollable and insufferable desire to be wanted, to be needed, to be loved.  Our families give it to us while we're young.  But then we move out.  And we begin to want that same acceptance and security and comfort we saw in our parent's marriage.  So we get right to work.  We do everything in our power to be found attractive or acceptable to the opposite sex.  Even if that means completely destroying that person our parent's worked so very hard to raise.  What I mean is this:  Girls forget to want, need, and love who they are in order to find that from someone else, from a guy.  Why are guys attracted to abnormally and unhealthily skinny girls these days?  Because girls are willing to subject themselves to the physical abuse necessary to lose the weight in order to gain a very, very superficial want, need, and "love".  Why do guys love it when girls wear hardly anything and why do guys develop addictions to pornography?  Because girls are willing to reveal themselves in order to feel wanted, needed, and loved.  Why do guys want to kiss and make out without the commitment of a dating relationship?  Because girls are willing to ignore the voice in their head saying, "This is wrong," in order to feel that want, need, and love communicated through affection, even if it isn't really there.  Why do guys refuse to clean up their act, grow up, and tie the knot?  Because girls are willing to be strung along in fruitless relationships since they're convinced no one will ever want, need, and love them outside of their relationship that is clearly want-less, need-less, and love-less, but they refuse to admit and see that too.  Why do guys not respect girls?  Because girls do not respect themselves.  Fortunately, things do NOT have to continue being this way.  There is a way to fix this.

Q:  What is the alternative?
A:  In three words, the answer would simply be, "Girls, RESPECT YOURSELF."  But that is ALOT easier said than done.  What does it mean to respect yourself?  It means to want, need, and love yourself.  The best way I can describe this is by appealing to that inner sense of caring and compassion girls are also born with.  Girls want to be mothers.  They grow up playing house.  They fight over who gets to hold the baby in the room.  They care for dolls.  They babysit.  And all the while they do everything they can to provide the best care possible for that special little spirit or doll they are entrusted with.  Respecting yourself is letting yourself fill both roles.  Realizing that you are the special little spirit or doll as well as the caregiver.  And you deserve and need the same attention and tender loving care you so freely give to everyone else.  Respecting yourself means feeding yourself healthy meals three times a day and limiting the junk food you consume, the same way your mother did while you were growing up.  Respecting yourself means having the self-discipline to set the rules and guidelines your parents did while you were growing up, and enforcing them on yourself.  This could mean having a curfew, having expectations from yourself regarding school, cleaning up after yourself, etc.  This also means exercising the self-restraint your parents might have imposed on you in regards to friends while growing up.  It's great to hang out with friends, but how much homework do you do, how much scripture study takes place, how much practicing of precious talents and hobbies happens, and how much pondering and meditation occurs when you are constantly surrounded by friends?  Alone time is good, it's vital to respecting yourself.  You need to have that time of quiet contemplation in order to truly meet and get to know the important person you are.  Self respect also means exercising the self-restraint your parents might have imposed on you in regards to the opposite sex while growing up.  I don't know about you, but I wasn't allowed to call boys while I lived at home.  I wasn't allowed to have boys in my bedroom.  I wasn't allowed to stay out all night with a boy.  I wasn't allowed to have boy-girl sleepovers.  I'll admit I am however guilty of breaking most, if not all, of these old rules since being on my own.  And I can guarantee I have sorely regretted doing so most of the time.  Respecting yourself is about doing constructive, rather than destructive things.  Respecting yourself does not include starving, bingeing, revealing, rule breaking, time wasting, school failing, priority shaking, or boy grovelling.  Respecting yourself means being your own mother, and a dang good one at that.  And it is absolutely VITAL if you entertain hopes and dreams of marrying a man that will want, need, and love you with the respect you deserve.  If you do not respect yourself, it is going to be very difficult to find someone who respects you.  Respect works best if both parties are involved.

Now I offer a plea.  Girls, please, please, learn to accept who you are and then do everything in your power to love and respect that person.  If this means withdrawing yourself from the social scene for a little bit to figure things out, do it.  If this means breaking up from a toxic relationship, do it.  If this means writing in your journal, studying your scriptures, or asking people who love and respect you for advice, do it.  If this means hanging out with only girls for the next six months until the guys in your life realize that you aren't going to do their job anymore, do it.  Let's start a revolution.  Let's change the dating scene.  Let's go back to the basics.  Let's allow the roles of dating to take their proper places, where guys do the initiating.  We'll still have power, and autonomy, and a say in dating relationships if we give up this responsibility.  I'm not proposing we give up our  confidence, I'm begging us to claim it.  I'm not suggesting we become submissive and silent slaves, I'm pleading that we become strong and sharp self-respecting spirits.  I'm not stating that this is the only way to solve this problem, I'm just offering my perspective and solution.  Let's stop complaining and start doing something.

A Plea

10.25.2011

I was born a Siamese Twin.  You know, the kind that are conjoined.  And look something like this...


Okay, maybe not literally.  But ever since I can remember, I have had this nasty twin following me so closely we were pretty much conjoined.  Fortunately, around the time I turned maybe 20, we were separated, so she doesn't bug me as much any more.  She's definitely the mean twin.  She loves to make my life miserable.  Even though we're separated, there are days she likes to come visit.  With a vengeance.  Here are some of her favourite things to do when she comes to visit.

When I get up and ready for the day, my lovely twin likes to shout how awful everything I put on looks.  She gets right up in my face when I peer in the mirror and and points out all my blemishes.  Without fail, she'll tell me my makeup sucks, that my clothes don't match, and that I look like I picked my outfit from a garbage can.  Don't even get me started about how she criticizes my hair!  On the days she comes around, she usually makes me late.  It's because I try so hard to please her as I get ready.  And then because I'm late, I'm flustered.  And this only makes her laugh and want more.

When I get to school and am surrounded by people, she likes to tell me that everyone around me is staring at me.  Or glaring at me.  And judging me.  And none of them like me.  And so I put my head down and look at the ground as I walk from class to class.  She makes me so nervous to talk to people, because according to her, they don't care what I have to say.  And because I believe her, I stay quiet and reserved and aloof to protect myself from these people that don't like me.

When lunch time rolls around, she reminds me how much I had for breakfast and that I should probably take things easy.  Not eating is a good size lunch in her opinion.  Or if I really messed up, she'll tell me there's no use in even trying to eat healthy, I've already blown it so I might as well consume as many calories as physically possible that day.  And in her opinion, it's best to eat in hiding.  That way no one will know how much I eat.  And I don't want people to know that because they'll probably think I'm fat or judge me for eating so much.  

When I go to class to write a test, she tells me that I have no chance.  She explains to me how I'm really not that smart and there is no use even trying.  Then she reminds me of everything I didn't study and all the time I wasted and begins to chisel away at any shred of confidence I had going into that test.  When I have the test laying in front of me, she breaths down my neck, telling me I don't know the answer before I've even had the chance to finish reading the question.

When I go to the gym, she stands over me with a whip.  First off, she won't let me leave the change room without reminding me how bad I look.  Then she laughs hysterically the entire time I workout, because my legs and arms jiggle.  She loves to point that out and shriek with glee, "THAT'S FAT!!"  If I don't work out long enough, she tells me that the workout wasn't even worth it, that I shouldn't have even tried.

When I date someone, she loves to point out all the other gorgeous girls my boyfriend would probably be happier with.  She constantly reminds me how things will probably never work out and that there is no use even getting comfortable.  She tells me the only reason a guy would ever date me is so he can enjoy the physical side of a relationship.  She tortures me with lectures on how I don't do enough to appreciate my boyfriend and then contradicts herself by yelling at me for doing too much and being too forward.

When I get into bed at the end of the day, she loves to give her own snide little play-by-play of all the epic failures I acquired in a single day.  She then tells me I have so much to look forward to tomorrow, because I'll probably do it all again.  

According to her, no one cares.  

According to her, nothing I do is good enough.  

According to her, I might as well give up.

Oh!  Forgive me for not telling you her name.  She doesn't actually have one now that I think of it.  If anything, you could call her "Insecurities".

To be honest, I'm so glad I don't have to live with her everyday like I used to.  Although I love to catch up with old friends, she is the one person I would be happy to completely eliminate from my life.  Which is why I would like a restraining order.  Please.

You'd think that being 22 years old would entitle you to being free of insecurities.  If you're younger than that, I'm afraid to tell you that it doesn't.  Your own little conjoined twin is going to hang around as close as you let them for as long as they can.  It's up to you to take the scalpel and cut them off and then it's still up to you to chase them away with a baseball bat when they come for a visit.  Insecurities sure loves me, but oh how I hate her.

Restraining Order Please....

10.20.2011

I was texting a friend of mine yesterday.

She was telling me about her problems with a certain guy.

I had talked with her before about him and my opinions still hadn't changed.  He's using her.

After explaining my thoughts in the clearest terms possible ("MOVE ON!!") she replied with something that really struck me:

"But he is so muscelly and so good looking and such a good kisser. :)"

And then it hit me.

So I replied saying:

"Shoot, you're right.  In that case, sacrifice being happy to chase after good looking muscles and kissing."

What was it that hit me?

A question.

This question.

How often do we sacrifice our happiness, all in the name of happiness?

Let me explain.  I'll start with the example of my friend I just mentioned.

Happiness in her situation is the two or three hours a week she sees this guy, the one or two scattered texts he casually shoots her, and the extremely selfish kisses he gives her (let's face it, they aren't emblems of affection, they're a means of him 'getting some').  It's the muscles, good looks, and kissing.  And that's not all.  Happiness in this situation also includes the days she has to go without him even talking to her.  It includes the specific situations around certain people where he'll choose to act like he doesn't know her.  It includes the unanswered texts, the turned down plans, and the pictures on Facebook of him hanging out with other girls.  It's the knowledge she has deep down, but doesn't want to accept, that he is using her.  It's the diminished self-confidence.  It's the formation of misconceptions regarding what relationships really are.  It's the slippery slope that promises to leaves anyone absolutely degraded.  And this is the Happiness she is seeking and gets when she chooses to sacrifice her Happiness.

What exactly is the Happiness she is sacrificing to obtain the Happiness I mentioned above?  Well, it's the slightly empty feeling of not having anyone she's attracted to or interested in.  It's one fewer person to text.  It's going to a party without a person to look forward to seeing.  It's the absence of that giddy feeling she gets when plans are made to hang out with "muscles, good looks, and kissing".  Happiness in this situation also includes the lack of drama and the reduction of those terrible mood swings that range from being ecstatic to absolutely rejected several times a day.  It's the weekends she spends hanging out with her family or girlfriends.  It's the progression of a hobby because there isn't that boy to distract her.  It's the steady accumulation of self-confidence.  It's the time to spend looking at and getting to know other boys that will undoubtedly treat her with more respect.  It's the genuine formation of her own self-respect, because she will have the opportunity to see how she deserves to, nay, must be treated by a guy.  It's the foundation of a skill that, if learned, will lead her to a successful life, the skill of learning to love oneself.  And this is the Happiness she is sacrificing for "muscles, good looks, and kissing."

I've done it before.  Heck, I've done it a few times.  I've made this exact sacrifice, the sacrifice of my happiness for happiness, and I know how tough it is to distinguish the difference between the two.  It takes practice to distinguish the difference between the two.  And this sort of dichotomy of happiness exists in every aspect of life, not just with relationships.  For example...

Sacrificing the happiness of slowly and surely developing the lifestyle and self-mastery that will promote the steady loss of weight for the happiness of starving yourself or going on a fad diet to shed pounds rapidly, then upon going off it, having the weight quickly reappear.

Sacrificing the happiness of having a modest sum of money saved and very few toys for the happiness of luxuries and the gut wrenching avoidance of looking at your bank account or opening bills.

Sacrificing the happiness of your self-respect gained through dressing modestly for the happiness of turning heads and receiving the attention of men who have intentions far from respectful.

I could go on and on.  

Why do we do this to ourselves?  Why do call our pursuits towards misery happiness?  Why do we convince ourselves to sacrifice our true happiness?  Why, why, why?!

I'm convinced that the ability to distinguish between happiness and happiness is one of the most important lessons a person could learn on this earth. 

Are you unhappy?  Then I suggest stepping back and examining whether the priorities and path of your life are leading you to happiness or happiness.  

Happiness or Happiness

10.09.2011

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