Don't Forget It

This is a picture of a painting my grandma Reeder gave me this past weekend. It's by J Bryant Ward, and it's titled, "Under His Wing". She surprised me with it. She's always full of surprises. I got to our condo at Bear Lake and she pulled me back into one of the bedrooms and gave it to me.

She said, "I thought maybe you could hang this up on your wall since you might not have a lot of decorations. It's so you can always remember that your Savior is there for you. No matter what. And he loves you."

I keep looking at this painting and thinking about that. I'm loved. No matter what. That's quite the comforting thought.


Sorry for the religious rant. . . .but it's more for myself than anyone else.


It blows my mind that any person could claim there isn't a God. What a sad life for them. I know without a doubt that our Heavenly Father is real. Plus He loves us. More than we can even imagine. Is that nice, or what?


I think it's very nice.


And if you're ever in doubt, just look around. Look at all the beautiful things that Heavenly Father has given us. Gifts. Amazing gifts. Just incase we start to forget. Just look at some of these gifts:














Yep. Smile. Because someone loves you.

Random Facts of Me :)

What song has captured your mind lately?

Anything But Mine by Kenny Chesney. . I have my reasons.

What TV show do you catch regulary?

I don't have cable so I basically never watch TV nowadays. But I always have a sick craving, which I hate to own up to, for this show:

What book really has lately engaged you?

I love reading. I love books. But I'm still on a roll with Mary Higgins Clark books.

What movie do you find yourself re-watching?

The Princess and the Frog. I'm a sucker for kid shows. Don't judge me.

What is something that is over-rated lately?

"I got my pants at the Buckle and only spent $108." Well, guess what? I spent about $18 on mine and my butt still looks just as good as yours.
What is the best kept secret in music you NEED to share?

Don't you dare go to the radio to find new music. It's the artists that haven't made it big that you have to search for a little, that have the best music. My theory is that the majority of the time, fame ruins the artist. Like The All-American Rejects. . . Their old stuff was sooooo much better.

What comfort food has been important as of late?

It's always been oreos. . .but I haven't needed them as of late. Yay me. I always want a Jamba after I've worked out though.

What place is your hiding place?

First Dam. I love it there. Or just anywhere that's outside and pretty. Places I can run to. Just me and my iPod.

Do you collect anything? If so, what?

Pictures, letters, cards. . I have a hard time getting rid of anything that brings back some sort of memory.

What beverage do you consume daily?

Ha ha.. Milk. I drink so much milk. I drink more milk than your average man. I should just purchase a milk cow. It'd probably save me money in the long run.

What store or shop do you frequent the most?

Lately it's been American Eagle.

Who are your favorite male/female celebs?

Male: Gerard Butler. For oh so many obvious reasons.

Female: Audrey Hepburn. It doesn't say current celebs, so I choose her. She's beautiful and classy.
Favorite color as of late?

I've had this thing with purple. I've been choosing purple everything without even realizing.

Learning to Love Imperfections

People spend way too much of their time trying to act a certain way. Meet the approval of others. Hiding away their flaws and pretending they aren't there. I've done it hundreds of times in my short lifetime. I'm starting to realize what a huge waste of time it is though. And it's stressful. Scary. It's much easier to embrace your flaws and love them. Not much in this life is perfect. But I'm learning that's just fine, and that imperfection can actually be a very beautiful thing.



Today at work, I poured a cup of skim milk for an adorable, little boy I was working with for the day. I went to put the carton of milk back in the fridge. Carton of milk in one hand, cup of milk in the other. How to open the fridge? Well, of course I'm not going to set the cup down. I can totally handle opening the fridge with the hand that's holding the cup. No prob. I'm such a cocky girl sometimes. Of course I got what I deserved. The cup slipped out from my hand as I pulled the fridge door open. I went to try catching the cup. An even worse idea. I caused the milk to not just spill, but to fly in all directions. All over the floor. All over the fridge. All over the boy. All over myself. Gross. At first I wanted to get mad at myself. I really liked the shirt I was wearing. And I could feel skim milk in my shoe. But then I just had to laugh. So I did. Also, I'm still wearing my skim milk covered shirt. And I plan on wearing it out tonight. Heck yes!




Sidenote: Skim milk smells horrid.




I have TONS of flaws. So many it would make a perfectionist gag. I can work on perfecting some of my imperfections, but I've faced the fact that some of them will just remain imperfect. Some of my imperfections make me who I am. Honestly, I don't think I'd like myself as much without them. I have nothing to hide. Here are some of my imperfections:



-I without fail ALWAYS get distracted. From everything. A job that takes the average person 10 minutes to do will probably take me 30.




-I can't read directions. Realize I said can't. Not don't. Don't would mean I just choose not to. I try reading them and can't. I think I have a disease or something.




-On occasion, I can't dress myself. I wear things together that do not match at all.




-My things are cluttered and unorganized. Not dirty. Just cluttered.




-I can be very awkward.




-I say things without thinking first. This, I can work on.



The list goes on and on, but I'll stop now.




I encourage everyone to make a list of your imperfections. Then read it, and smile. Because some imperfections make a person who they are. So learn to love yourself for them. Because everyone else does. :)

Me, Mary, and a Goose

I've had a recent obsession with reading Mary Higgins Clark books. She's said to be the greatest suspense thriller author of all time, and boy is that true! Geez Mary, what have you done to me? I loved reading her books in high school, but I kind of have been on a little drought with all reading, not just Mary. I don't like reading droughts. Because I love reading! Sometimes it's just hard to make the time to sit down, relax, and enjoy a book. The world gets so busy. I know. I like being busy, but I also enjoy getting lost in a book. The way the story can grasp me and pull me into a different world; the characters become real to me and their worries become my worries. Their wants become my wants. It's almost creepy, actually it is pretty creepy. I guess I'm just a bookworm creep. Anyways. . .



This evening I had this crazy itch to read some of my book. Right now I'm reading, "Loves Music, Loves To Dance". It's about this crazy killer that makes girls dance with him, kills them, and then puts a slipper on one of their feet. He's up to about 7 girls right now. And I'm only on page 78 or something. Out of control, I know. But along with this crazy itch, I also had a crazy itch to enjoy the nice weather outside. So I made a wonderful compromise. I went to First Dam (one of my favorite spots thus far in Logan) to read my book.



I perched myself on a rock by the water and read away! I felt so content with life for the hour I was there. I kept getting distracted by my duck friends that were quacking away nearby, but I still managed to get deep into my book. At one moment when I was vigorously turning through pages, I sensed someone near me. I thought maybe the whole mystery book thing was really getting to my head, but then I looked up to see a giant goose sitting next to me. I love these kind of geese. They're extremely ugly, but that makes me merely love them more. They're giant, and have big, bulging bumps on their heads. They also make this horrible, obnoxious honking noise. I wish I could demonstrate, and typing it just wouldn't do it justice. He was just sitting there, inches away from me, his beady eyes frozen on me. I could have easily reached out and hugged him. But I decided I didn't want to ruin my perfect day by getting attacked by my giant goose friend. He sat by me, watching me read for about ten minutes. Then a little boy splashed through the water and chased him away. I was half tempted to yell at the little boy, but I decided that would make me look like a crazy bird lady. Shortly after that, I left. I hope my goose friend will sit and read with me again sometime. I hope I can find the time to read again. . .very, very soon. I must know what happens, and which character is the murderer.



I went on a run after my reading time. I was a little on edge from my intense book, so I found myself being very grateful that Cache Valley is the safest place in the country. Pretty much. I ran to the temple and back. It was grand. The Logan temple is gorgeous. It looks like a legit castle, more so to me than other temples. Seeing it brought me comfort and I no longer had to worry about a man coming to get me and put a dancing slipper on my foot. The sun had just gone down. I LOVE summer nights when the sun has just gone down! The sky was a magnificent background to the lovely temple. The sky faded from a slate blue, to light purple, to pink, to orange. I looked at one of my dream homes that's right across from the temple too. A big, yellow sucker with an amazing yard, complete with an iron gate around it. How wonderful it would be to live across the street from the temple. Then I got thinking about it more. . . How horrible it would be to live across the street from the temple. I would probably feel guilty every day. I'd feel guilty if my kitchen was messy even. Or what if you were watching a movie and it said a naughty word?



There are many things to wonder about. Like living across the street from the temple. Or who the murderer in my book is. Or why that goose was watching me so closely. And I'll just keep wondering. Because I quite enjoy wondering. Just like I enjoy running, reading, and goose friends.

Night Drives

I don't have a problem with driving alone. Nope, I do not. I actually really like it. I can adjust the AC to exactly how I'm feeling. No complaints from behind me about the windows being rolled down. I choose the music. . .and how loud that music might be :). I can dance and sing (as loud as I want might I add) and not have people be irritated with me. They could laugh at me, that wouldn't bother me. I've come to face the fact that I tend to do things that make people want to laugh at me, and I'm happy to offer them something to laugh about. So basically everything about driving alone is a bunch of ooey gooey positive-i-ness. Yes, that's a real word. . .or just pretend it is.

But perhaps the very best thing about driving alone, is the time I spend having a little visit with myself. Some of my very best heart-to-hearts with friends and family have been spent while driving in the car. Funny enough, some of my best heart-to-hearts with myself are spent in the car as well. When it's just me. I love me some Kelsey time. It really is awesome though. Whenever I have a lot on my mind, and just need to clear my head, driving alone seems to help.

This past weekend, I drove from my home in little Weston back to my apartment in Logan pretty late at night. I debated forever whether or not I should just stay the night at my house and drive back early in the morning, or just drive through the dead of the night. I realized I was wide awake though and chose the dead of the night option.

As I made the 40 minute drive, I thought about a lot of things. This is good. I tend to think about things like crazy, but my crazy thoughts never get organized. They also get trapped inside of me. I know it sounds funny, but I have a rough time always knowing what I'm thinking and what I want. It's almost like a fly that gets caught in a jar. The fly tries countless times to escape, but has no way to perform that task. With the lid on the jar there is no way out. But the silly fly just flies into the glass over and over again. My mind is like that. Yes, I actually did just compare my mind to a jar full of flies. Those annoying, buzzing flies are all my thoughts. They're going crazy in that jar, just bouncing off the sides. On occassion, I figure out for myself how to unscrew the lid, and the flies wander out. Free! Free, buzzing flies. Free to go buzz to the world and get swatted at! While driving the other night, I freed some flies.

I thought a lot about my friends. How much I love them. They mean the world to me. I hope they know that. Growing up makes it harder to always stay in touch with friends like I want to. Even the ones I live with, I don't spend every second of every day with them. We're growing up. Dang it. Things are changing. We're all going out and pursuing our dreams. The trick is: We have different dreams. And that's good. But challenging sometimes. It's a hard thing for me to understand. Why the way friendships function has to change. But I know the friendships themselves don't have to change. Never. I thought about how my good friends have molded me, led me in the right directions. I owe them so much. I hope they know how much I love them. Even though things are different. If I got a call saying I had to lay down my life for one of them, I'd do it. I hope they believe that.

I also thought about girls that date jerks. And how silly that is. It makes me angry sometimes. That girls will put up with it. I hate seeing them hurt and be treated bad. I've been worried about some certain girls lately that I care about a lot. I hope they realize they deserve better. As I drove across country roads, I found myself looking into the night sky, sprinkled with summer's sweet stars, saying a prayer that those girls would one day find a guy that treats them half as well as the guy I found.

I thought about hundreds of other things. I could go on forever. But many of my thoughts aren't very relevant. Most of them turn out being extremely random. Like ways I could sneak a pet into my apartment, or how long I could go without candy in order to get my washboard abs for the summer (not likely to happen. Let's get real here.), or making plans for some kind of camping trip. But all in all, late night drives filled with some quality time with myself are pure genius. Thanks me, for being such a great listener.