Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Dreams....... Part II




Well clearly my last attempt at dreaming didn't pan out very well... it was awful. Absolutely devastating. It was so terrible because I was foolish enough to get my hopes up because for a moment there I really had reason to believe my dreams might come true!!! I felt like I could fly! My life had meaning! It was all for a reason.....

Well I swore off dreaming.... for what a month?? I have concluded my problem was, clearly, I wasn't dreaming big enough! So I have come up with new dreams, bigger, wilder, more unrealistic dreams than ever before.

All day I have been listening to this song by Brandi Carlile on repeat. I have probably listened to it 50 times today alone. Why? Because by golly I have dreams!

Now why am I not telling you my big dreams? Well you see, the mocking that would follow would be so harsh that my little heart might not be able to dream anymore. This dream is so out there that I might as well tell you I want to be the first woman president because it might be that realistic. So instead of sharing my dreams I am going to just keep listening to Brandi belt out how I have dreams! With every repeat of this song, my courage gets a little stronger and just maybe one of these days I'll act on my dreams.

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Sunday, November 28, 2010

Love Stories

If you had to pick a love story which one would you want to be in?

I've been thinking a lot about this question the past few days. All growing up more than anything I wanted to be Anne Shirley and Gilbert Bythe. For a period of time, I really thought it might come true... until clearly my Gilbert didn't understand his role in the story. After I turned down his first few proposals he was supposed to let me go out "searching for my ideals". Sure, he could date, he could even get engaged to "Christine"... but in the end he was supposed to break it off because he realized there would be no one for him but me. And magically after my first year of teaching I would realized I didn't want sun burts or marble halls.... I just want Gilbert. Well my Gilbert Bythe.... got married. I'll never forgive him for not waiting for me to realize what I wanted... but whateve, when he got married I realized I needed to search out a new fairytale.

That was when I discovered Pride and Prejudice. I dreamed that the day would come that a guy would fall for me despite the inferiority of my connections, the conditions of my life so decidedly below his own... he can't help how he oddently admires and loves me. When I met the Mr. Darcy of Provo, I thought there was a chance. I was warned by many that he was very reserved, sometimes came off as prideful... But when I walked around his beautiful grounds of "pimberly" that overlooked the valley, I saw a side to him I didn't expect. He is a closet artist, sensitive book loving nerd... but in the end... he really was just a jerk.

So I have been on the search for my new love story. My latest inspiration started with a conversation at PF with Ashley... yes, quite the inspiring location I know. She said, "Kristin, just marry for money." Then later that night I watched one of the most classic love stories of all time, Pretty Woman. Craig came home at the end of the movie as I exclaimed, "THIS IS EVERY GIRLS DREAM!!!!" Quite confused he said, "To be a prostitute?" I must clarify minus the whole prositute thing...

It is a dream story. A common girl, confused about what she wants or where she is going, randomly meets an elite billionaire that although he doesn't know it, needs a girl to lighten up his world. Help him see that there is more to life then just making money.... that money is meant to be enjoyed :) Clearly the best part of the story is when she can show the snotty workers on Rodeo Drive what they missed out on because they refused to help her. Yes, the more I write about Pretty Woman the more I am convinced that this is going to be be my love story... now where do you find good looking, ethical, single billionaires?


But I am curious, what love story would you want to be?

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Monday, November 22, 2010

Going Private.


We all think it. As soon as we see someone's title "going private" we get super bummed.... even if it isn't your ex-boyfriend's wife's blog that you wouldn't ever dare to ask for an invite. We all get bummed. Sure there is the hassle of clicking on their blog rather than just seeing if they have an update, but I don't even think that is why we get so bummed.

We get bummed because even if it is a blog we hate, we know as soon as someone goes private.... inevitably they stop blogging. Ok, to be fair, they don't quit completely, but the amount of posts are substantially less.

Every time I check my private blogs to see if they have posted, I think about this phenomenon. Why is it that whenever a blog goes private, some with time, but some almost immediately stop blogging? I mean it really doesn't make a lot of sense. More than likely anyone that the blogger wanted to read the blog has an invite... so more than likely about the same amount of people are reading the blog. So what causes the change?

I have concluded that it comes down to the mystery, the excitement of not knowing exactly who will read the post. That bit of risk lures bloggers into keep writing. I love bloggers that state the purpose of the blog is for journal sake. I am sure that is partially true, but obviously there is some satisfaction in knowing that other people read the post or the blogger would just have a journal. We like that people are reading our blogs.

Sure sometimes I am creeped out a bit about the fact that I really don't know everyone that reads my blog... but mostly it just adds to the excitement. I love looking at my Live Traffic Feed to see where the people are from that are looking at my blog. For instance I was just looking at my Feed, someone from La Vista, Nebraska. As far as I know, I don't know anyone from La Vista... or nicetono.blogspot.com. I have no idea who this blogger is, as far as I can tell this blogger has never left a comment.... yet the blogger and some of his/her followers frequently read my blog.

So I have concluded that one of the aspects that entices bloggers to blog comes down to the hope that there is a Rachel Lynde out there that is snooping in.







P.S. You private bloggers, whether you blog or not, I still love you.
P.S.S. No, I am not going private.


Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The Gym Part II - the inner ring

Now I know it isn't much comfort to my students, but I tell them although people may not discuss it as much, although people try to be more discrete about it, life and social interaction doesn't change much after junior high. I tell them, " I wish I could say that people grow up. I wish I could say that people change. But really, life is always pretty much like junior high." We all have the desire of wanting to fit in, to feel included. Cheers said it best, "Sometimes you wanna go, where everybody knows your name." So people do some crazy things in order to fit in.... to be a part of a group... to get that sense of belonging.
"I believe that in all men's lives one of the most dominant elements is the desire to be inside the local ring and the terror of being left outside." - C.S. Lewis, The Inner Ring

No place has the junior high mentality more than at the gym.

The Plastics
The step class. It was really quite intimidating at first. It is easy to tell who belongs in The Plastics, and clearly who doesn't. The plastics wear matching exercise outfits, always set up in the front, and there is an obvious addition that makes it easy to call them The Plastics.

Whenever a new-comer trys to attend to the step class they put on their happy smiles, welcome the new comer to class, but recognize that within the first 20 minutes of the class due to the complicated and fast pace of the class, the new-comer will leave.

Now when I went to the class for the first time, I was quite confident in my step ability. I was a step instructor for heaven sakes! But sure enough, I left within the first 20 minutes because I couldn't keep up. But unlike other newbe's I came back the next morning. And with time, over the past 3 years I have become one of the regulars of this class. (I haven't seen another person break in since me) Now although I can keep up. Although I am one of the best at it now, I still didn't break through and get into the "ring" until the instructor, the head plastic, met my dad at Swiss Days. Since then not only am I on the "in"... the instructor has me lead the class!

The Advanced Spin Class
Every Monday morning there is a different look to the worker-outers that walk into the gym. They always wear their most recent marathon or triathlon shirts. They don't wear stylish exercise clothes like The Plastics, they wear hardcore workout clothes. I never see them at the gym besides Monday mornings. They don't seem like the gym going type. They are the running in the dead of winter, biking through the rain, swimming with a wetsuit kind of people. So when I saw a class they were all attending, I thought I'd check it out.

They call it, "Advanced Spin Class".

I don't know how I actually got a bike in the class the first day. Almost every bike is saved. Everyone has spin shoes. Everyone wears padded bike shorts. Everyone has a jersey. Everyone knows each other by name. Each week they talk about the most recent race they competed in. When the sign-ups for the next race is. Or the latest energy gel that gave the extra kick for the last few miles. One thing is for sure. I am not one of them. Sure I have a bike, but I've never done a century. Sure I run, but I've never done a marathon. But I'll tell ya one thing, I can spin just as hard as they can! So I've been attending this class for two years. It's probably my hardest workout of the week because so bad I want to become one of them. Throughout the class the instructor calls out one of the spinners names and tells everyone to spin as fast as that person is. Over the past two years I have started to look more the part. I have spin shoes. I have biking spandex. but still the teacher doesn't know my name. The teacher hasn't acknowledged me and my biking skills.

I thought it was because I was still considered "new". Until one day a new girl in a t-shirt and tennis shoes came to class. I scoffed "amateur" as I set up next to her. I clearly span way faster than her, so I couldn't believe my ears when the instructor said, "Hey new girl, great job!"

That was until the day that the instructor didn't actually ride with us. He gave up his bike to one of the "group" who came in late and didn't have a bike. (He had already turned 5-6 other gym members saying the bikes were full) Anyways, the workout was brutal. For those of you that are familiar with spin, we sprinted all class. Up hill, down hill, sitting, standing. All we did was sprint. And I sprinted my guts out. As I went to leave class the instructor said, "Hey what's your name?" Kristin. "Kristin, great job today."


All the hard work, all the dedication, the constant yearning to fit in.... is finally worth it.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Gym


If I was ever to become an anthropologist, my area of study would not be the typical Amazon Tribal People, Sudan Desert People or even the Himalayan Tibetan Monk People ... it would be the 9th East Gold's Gym People.

Today I just want to describe a bizzare thing that is very typical... without thinking the other morning I threw on a t-shirt and went to the gym. Now I never wear t-shirts to the gym because of exactly what happened.

Now this might be TMI but despite popular belief particularly among the gym socialites when you work out, you sweat. The better shape you are in, according to my "how to be an aerobics instructor" professor, the more you sweat. But an interesting thing happens at the gym when you sweat a lot. Instead of getting high fives and words of encouragement for working out so hard.... you get looks of disgust. When I walked out of the dark stationary bike spinning room the other morning and looked in the mirror and saw this:
I was absolutely horrified! I glanced around the gym hoping that no one had seen me, but it was too late. I could feel the dirty glares coming from all across the gym! I felt the need to apologize to all the gym goers at 6:30 AM for producing such an awful sight.

But ya know...despite all the dirty looks... no matter how disgusted the other gymers are with my wet clothes, every time I get home and look in the mirror I get such a satisfaction from all my hard work.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Introducing...


I'm proud to introduce the newest member of my blog list...


Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Life Won't Wait

Death is one of those things we all handle differently. Last night a 17 year old boy in the town that I teach passed away. I didn't teach him. But I taught his brother. I know his friends. I know his extended family. I hurt for those that I know that love him. I don't hurt for the boy that passed away. I have a testimony that through God's mercy, even with his mistake, the boy will be fine. I hurt for those who have to keep living with the guilt, the pain, the longing.

I looked the boy up on facebook. It was beautiful to read what all these teenagers I know that can be so selfish, thoughtless and even cruel sometimes had to say after hearing that this boy had passed on. It got me thinking. I wonder if the boy would have done what he did, if he knew.... if he really understood how many people loved him.

I think it's a tragedy that we wait until people are gone to have a funeral service. I have been thinking about all the people in my life that I care so much about. I wonder if they know exactly how much they mean to me. From reading the hundreds of posts on this boy's profile I've decided I am not going to wait until something tragic happens for me to express my love, admiration, and gratitude to the people that I love. Because sometimes, life won't wait.





What his 16 year old brother wrote on his profile this morning:
B... you were my best friend and always will be, I love you man!! I can't wait to see you again!