~A Teaser for Something Bigger~

We met by random chance.
We re-met by even more random chance.

He's one of those guys that seems to always be on the outskirts of my life, unable to get any closer. In this regard, I wish we hadn't re-met. He could've stayed a forgotten memory and he never would have haunted my life.

Some people believe that everything happens for a reason. I think that is bullshit. There are a few things, yes, that happen because there is a specific and legitimate reason for them to happen. But sometimes, as one of the Tremor Brothers says in the epic movie Smokin' Aces, "Sometimes fate just up-and-f***s you for no good reason." Whether having him spring up in my life once again is something that was suppose to happen or just fate messing with me, I haven't decided. But, truth be told, I'm leaning towards the latter.

~Note from Kelly~
As the title suggests, this is just a teaser. I'm working on expanding this idea a bit more but I can't seem to make it work. This is as much as I have been able to get out that isn't complete crap. I'll come back to this someday. I promise.

Love you.
Mean it.

We Didn't Even Know What We Were Trying To Escape

Last week when I was in Cedar City, I had the chance to see Joe. I hadn't seen him since we ran into each other at SUU commencement back in May. It was so good to see him and to talk to him again. I had forgotten how much I missed him.

When I asked him what he was up to, he said he was getting out there. He was applying to different teaching jobs and Ph.D. programs across the nation, as well as in England and Australia. He hoped to be gone by the end of spring semester. I sat there listening to him explain why he wanted to get out of Utah. As he talked, I found him expressing the same feelings I have had for the longest time but couldn't find the words to explain them. Utah had served its purpose in his life. He needed a change. He needed to live somewhere where he didn't feel judged or suffocated. I don't think I have ever loved him more than at that moment.

I can remember being young, barely in high school, and my friends & I talked about getting out of Provo & Utah in general. This place didn't understand us and we were going to be something in the world. We were only 14 or 15 years old. We didn't even know what we were trying to escape. It was your typical teenage rebellion, I guess. Looking back, I don't think I really wanted to leave. Provo & Utah were the only places I had ever known. They were home to me.

Home.

That's become such an odd word. I used to think that Provo was my home. Then I left and Cedar City became my home. It's where I wanted to be. It's where I felt comfortable and wanted. I felt purpose there and a sense of belonging that I was craving. When I came back to Provo, Cedar City still felt like home. But I've come to a realization over the past few weeks. I love Cedar City and I probably always will but it's not my home anymore. Too many things have changed and when I go back, I'm not going back to the same place I called home. I think what makes an area feel like home is not only the right place but also the right time. Cedar City was my home for a long time but that time has passed and I need to find a new place & time.

Joe and I talked about each of us finding a new home. I'm not sure where it might be or how I'll know it's where I'm suppose to be. I guess it'll feel like when I first started living in Cedar City. I'll have this feeling that I belong there. I'll fall in love with the area and with my life. Eventually I'll build friendships and relationships that will feel like a family to me. And for that time in that place, I'll be happy.

Love you.
Mean it.

In Five Years Time

I realized the other day that this May is my five-year high school reunion. I'm not going to go. I really have no desire to go and see the people I graduated with. There are many reasons for this. One being the people I was close to in high school I already keep in contact with. Everyone else are just familiar faces with forgotten names.

I can't believe it's been almost five years since I graduated. Looking back I know my life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would. Don't get me wrong, I like my life right now. It's taken me a long time to get to the point where I love my life. It's just not what I thought would happen. I know it sounds corny but if you would've told me five years ago where I'd be now, there is no way in hell I'd believe you. A lot has happened. A lot of things have changed. I'm not the same person I was when I graduated, which is a good thing I suppose.

Thinking back over the last five years makes me think of what's going to happen in the next five years. I'll be 27 by then. Where I am going to be then? Will I have a job I like? Will I be married? Will I have kids? There are so many uncertainties and it terrifies me. The last five years have been so unpredictable that there's no way I can even guess what is coming up ahead.

I'm discovering there is a very scary difference between what I want to do with my life and what I'll be able to do. I mean, I'm smart, fierce, stubborn, independent, and an incredibly hard worker. I know what I want and I do everything I can to get it. But sometimes that's not enough. With the economy the way it is, I can be all of those things and still be left sitting on my ass somewhere, no job and no prospects. I am a fighter. I always have been and I always ready to fight for what I want. I just don't know if I can hold out and keep fighting for what I want. I want to be a writer, yes. But how long until the world beats the fight out of me?

I want to be a writer because I want to change things. I want to reach out and let people know they are not alone in their thoughts and feelings. I want to be apart of a catalyst for change. I want to know that what I'm doing is making a difference. I used to say that I'm not cynical by nature; I'm cynical by experience. But when it comes to me wanting to help people and make a difference, I don't want to be cynical anymore. I want to tease out a little optimism and hope. And that terrifies me. Hope is a dangerous thing for dreamers. What if I can't make a go of writing? In five years, am I going to be a beaten down recovering-dreamer? I hope not. God, I hope not.

Love you.
Mean it.

Improv Show!

My improv group is having a show this Friday. YAY!

It's at 7:00 pm in the UVU Library Theater
Tickets are $2 per person or $3 for a couple.

Be there or be somewhere else!

p.s. I will be posting some actual content soon. You can stop worrying now.

Love you.
Mean it.

Today Especially

Quotes from Russia

This weekend I'm getting together with the girls I went on my Russian adventure with for Miki's bridal shower. I decided to finally type these up. They may not be funny for many people but to us, they are hilarious.

"Do you mean home or home, home, home, home, home?

-Kelly

"Heil Hitler...Wait, I'm on a German plane!"

-Maggie

 "There are dark clouds, darker clouds, I don't want to go outside clouds, second-coming clouds..."

-Katy

"Look! I've got boob pockets!"

-Maggie

"Yay! ILP actually works!"

-I don't remember who said it but it was funny.

"It's not like Korea, which is the Mexico of Asia."

-Tharon

"The battery died. You always got to remember to add oil to your lamp so you can move on."

-Elder Henderson when the translator headphone things died.

"I love your name. It's not Liza or Sonya or Nastya, or Sasha or Dasha or Masha. It's just Maggie..."

-Elder Maxwell

"And Klim...Klim is just stupid."

-Kelly complaining about her class.

"Please me point!"

-Every single Russian student

Elder Henderson: What are you guys doing?

Elder Clements: We're having an 'I miss America' party.

Elder Henderson: Why didn't you invite me???

"I used to walk down the street thinking, 'I'm going to turn right' then I'd go left and think, 'Ha! I tricked God!'"

-Elder Henderson

Every Missionary: Where are you from?

Kelly: I was born & raised in Provo, Utah.

Every Missionary: I LOVE PROVO!

Kelly: No, no, no. You only know about 200 yards of Provo from the temple to the MTC. That does not count!

"Sometimes I wish I was a thief. I think it would be fun."

-Miki

"I'm going to tie her to a chair and make her be my friend!"

-Victoria about Kelly

"Welcome to the world of everyone but us."

-Katy

"Are we going to die?"

-Kelly, in a British accent, before we crossed an extremely busy road.

Katy: Look! You never see boys holding hands.

Kelly: They're probably queer.

"How can I steal secret glances at you if you won't stop staring at me???"

-Miki

"That looks churchy."

-Katy

Maggie: I have to write a talk on the atonement.

Kelly: Just BS it.

Maggie: I can't BS the atonement!!!

Someone: Are we going to work out every day, Sharla?

Sharla: Every damn day!

"We'll have a sign taped to her chest...I don't know what it would say...something witty."

-Tharon

"I can't tear my eyes off those pants!"

-Tharon about Victoria's pj's

"Neyet, sheyet."

-Miki

"I wouldn't frolic if I were you."

-Kelly

"Kishkuman was the Godfather of the Book of Mormon."

-Miki

Katy: It's easy to stay the king when you are the king.

Amaryah: Unless you're in the Book of Mormon.

"He sounds like a fruit."

-Miki about the metro PA system guy in Moscow

"He thinks you're from England. Go with it."

-Dani

Miki: That was more than Hagan-Das!

Kelly: You keep saying that.

Victoria: Where is that scar from, Tharon?

Tharon: Alabama.

"...if you're queer."

-Miki, Maggie, & Kelly's response to nearly everything.

"I just graffettied"

-Maggie

"It's times like these where all you can think is..."

*she then plays the song 'Oh Well' by Fiona Apple on her ipod*

-Miki

Elder Clements: How do you guys drink water?

Maggie: We boil it.

Elder Clements: What are you, boy scouts?

Miki: With our powers combined, the power of my wit, Katy's energy, Victoria's animation, Dani's strength, Amaryah's consideration, Maggie's charisma, and Kelly's indifference, we have...

Maggie: The perfect person!

Kelly: Well, that was anti-climatic...

"My favorite thing about Russia is me and my least favorite thing is you."

-Maggie

"It's like you from moon."

-Sveta

"Your country sucks!"

-Kelly, yelled out the window at the passersby during a snow storm.

"You Americans are silly. You're like, 'We're free from Europe! We're going to do things crazy!'"

-Sveta on the American cooking measurement system. 

Love you.

Mean it. 

Lunch With Russian Cops

It was probably when we were lost in Moscow that Miki and I really became close.

We both have pretty laid back personalities so neither of us were freaking out when we were lost in a huge city where we were vacationing. Oh, and we didn't speak a word of Russian. We wandered around, laughing and taking in the sights. We even had our pictures taken next to a great Russian Orthodox church.

A few weeks later when we were back in St. Petersburg, and it had been a rough day for Miki. The kids had been unruly and her lesson didn't go well. Tensions had been palpable within the group and she was feeling more homesick than normal. It happened to all of us from time to time. I guess it was just Miki's turn that day. After we had finished teaching, we all gathered in the small classroom where we kept our things. I asked Miki if she'd like to go to my host family's place for lunch. I had recently switched host families. My new host family's place was within "Russian walking distance" of the school we taught at. In order to get to my old family, I'd have to walk a mile to the metro, take a 45 minute ride, and then walk about six or seven blocks to get to their apartment. To get to my new family's place, it was only about a mile and a half walk. This new family consisted of a mom who didn't speak a word of English and her ten year old son, Vlad, who was the most annoying person I have ever met. Miki agreed and we packed up our stuff and started walking.

It wasn't unbearable cold that day. Since our trip to Moscow, it had become a bit warmer in St. Petersburg. It was still chilly enough that we wore our frock pea coats. The air smelled like Russia, a mixture of car exhaust, cigarette smoke, and cold. We could see hints of spring as we walked. The city was still gray and dirty but there were various patches of grass growing green and lush. There were even some wildflowers that popped up sporadically. The sky wasn't completely overcast, like it had been for the first two months of our trip and we were treated with the sight of the blue sky. It was a dramatic changed from when we first arrived there and we enjoyed and treasured the colors.

When we arrived in the apartment, I opened the first door that had three locks and the second door immediately behind it with two. We walked in, took off our coats and shoes and walked into the kitchen. The apartment was small but well furnished. The kitchen was to the left, next to Vlad's room where I was staying. There was also a living room where Vlad slept with his mom. I guess him mom slept there all of the time. She didn't have a room to herself. I rummaged around the fridge and found some cabbage wraps and put them in a small pot of water to warm. Microwaves are a luxury in Russia and we had all learned how to use a stove to heat our food.

Miki and I chatted while I cooked the food. Suddenly there was a firm knock at the door. Miki and I looked at each other for a moment then I went to go answer it. I looked through the peephole. There were two police officers standing there, wearing bullet proof vests that had the words полиции written on the front. They were both carrying what looked like automatic weapons. I didn't know anything about guns at the time and I still don't know much but I knew those guns were intimidating. I looked at Miki who had an expectant look on her face. "It's two police officers with bullet-proof vests and automatic guns." Miki's eyes became wide. "What should we do?" she asked. "Let them in, I suppose." I replied and began to unlock the doors.

The two men stepped in without being invited in. They asked me something in Russian. I replied in (very bad) Russian, "Я не говорить Россию" which meant, "I don't speak Russian." It was about the only thing I knew how to say fairly well in Russian since I would say it about 20 times a day. The police officers asked me something again in Russian and I replied again, "Я не говорить Россию." I then I attempted to add, "Я учитель английского языка" which meant I was an English teacher. I didn't know how to say it as well and I fumbled with the words. I then reverted back to my old standby, "Я не говорить Россию." They still seemed confused and I gave up and started talking in English. "Look, I don't understand what you're saying. I'm an English teacher. I'm living with this family. My friend and I are here having some lunch." I walked into the kitchen and gestured to the food on the counter. Miki hadn't said a word. After making one more attempt to talk to me in Russian, (I replied with a snarky, "I still don't understand what you're saying") they seemed to realize they weren't getting anything from us.

The one officer went to the phone to make a few calls. The other propped his automatic gun up against the wall and sat down at the table next to Miki to fill out some paperwork. Seeing as I had nothing else to do, I went back to the stove and tended the cabbage wraps. After a few moments, I turned to Miki and said, "I think they're done." She looked at me and tried not to laugh. I brought the wraps to her and we began to eat, continuing the conversation we were having before the cops showed up. The cops would talk to each other in Russian and every now and then would try to say something to us but would only receive looks of incomprehension. Neither one of us were frightened or nervous. We were as casual as if these two were our lunch guests. We even offered them some wraps and they laughed and shook their heads.

After about fifteen minutes, the officers stood up and began to look like they were ready to leave. I stood up and walked them to the door. After they crossed the threshold, I waved to them and said, "до свидания" which meant goodbye. The officers laughed and waved goodbye. The moment after I closed and locked the door I looked at Miki, who was still sitting at the table. At the same instance we both burst out laughing. I doubled over where I stood and Miki doubled in her chair. I walked over to the kitchen, still laughing, when Miki said, "Kelly, we just had lunch with Russian cops." I stopped laughing long enough to reply, "Yeah. They weren't much for conversation."

Love you.
Mean it.