Blog Challenge. Day 24.

I have been a slacker on the blog challenge. So give me a break, it was a holiday. If I don't have to go to school or work, I don't think I should be required to blog either. But I'm back now. Oh joy.

Day 24: A letter to your parents.

I am just going to start out by saying that I love my parents.

I am also proud to say that I did not wait until I moved away to realize that I loved them. Of course, when I moved away I understood more of just how much my parents did for me, which made me reach a new level of love for them. However, in high school, I liked my parents. Sometimes on weekends, I would choose to stay home and watch a movie with my dad and make crafts with my mom. My friends made fun of me sometimes, but honestly, my mom and dad were my friends too. They were just the really bossy kinds of friends that tell you what you have to do and when you have to come home. Just kidding. But in all seriousness, I was very blessed to be born to a mother and father that love me and would do anything for me. They are really the best people I know. So here it goes. . . .two letters. One for Ronnie Brooks. One for Mille.

Dear Dad,

I don't know quite where to begin. You have always been the man. I remember trusting you completely as a little girl, and I still do. I remember all the nights I waited for you to get home. I would play outside and wait for the truck to turn into the driveway. Then I would always run and greet you with a big hug and kiss. Sorry as I got older I didn't wait for you as faithfully. But I still was always pretty good about coming and saying, "Hey Dad!" and giving you a kiss.

Thank you for being such a great provider. You are by far the hardest worker I know. You never complain either. I know there are lots of times you probably feel tired and hurt, but you always keep it to yourself. I look up to you so much. You have always put our family's needs before your own. Actually, you always put others before yourself. I love that about you. I love that you act like you are such a bad guy when in reality, you are one of the most Christ-like people I know. You just like to act like a tough guy. In reality, you have a huge heart. I have always admired your acts of service for me and for other people. The way you do it so quietly, not expecting anything in return. It isn't surprising that everyone likes you so much and enjoys being around you. You are accepting of everyone, and you always come to the rescue.

I also look up to the way you go about making others always feel special. You have a gift at that. All of my friends have always loved you because you genuinely care about what they are doing, and you never failed to tell them how wonderful and pretty they are. I always have to smile too, at the way you make the little, old ladies at church feel. Those little widows love you. They probably feel lonely a lot, having their husbands gone, and you know just how to brighten their day. The way their faces light up when you give them a big kiss on the cheek. They blush like they are little school girls again. I seriously think GG had a crush on you, because you made her feel special and pretty. Don't ever forget to make mom feel extra special. . .because she is.

I will always be your angel. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for teaching me how to play basketball. Thank you for teasing me and rough housing me as a kid, it has made me a tough one. Thank you for always zipping my dress up for church when I was little when my short arms couldn't quite reach. I love you.

Dear Mom,

Boy, I have so much I could write to you! You are my best friend. Thanks for always being there for me. I am convinced that you are Super Mom. I have never seen a more supportive and helpful mother, nor will I.

Thank you for coming to all my things when I was younger. You were at every sporting event, cheering me on, even when you didn't know quite what was going on. You knew the score and if I was doing well or bad, and that's all that really matters. Thank you for always pushing me to reach my full potential, even when I felt afraid and didn't want to. I owe most of my achievements to you. Since you were right there helping me, cheering me on, and letting me cry on your shoulder when needed. You were basically my own personal secretary when I was in high school, which I feel quite guilty for now. I am sorry for all the times I didn't treat you like gold. I am sorry for the times I was mean and impatient. I am sorry for the times I took my failures and bad days out on you. I hope you know through all of that, I still loved you more than anyone.

You have always been a person I can talk to. Whenever I have problems or need advice, I come to you. Because you know me better than anyone else. After all, you did give birth to me. Thank you for always taking care of me. Thanks for letting me be your first. I think you did a pretty good job. In all honesty, I am super intimidated of having children because I know I can never be as good a mom as you. But I guess I'll try.

I also just want to let you know, you are such an amazing woman. I don't think there is anything you can't do. I have realized more in the past year just how talented you are. You know how to do lots of things, which I think is neat. You know how to quilt, cook, crochet, write, paint, make crafts, garden, play music. You are so well-rounded. I am glad that whenever I have wanted to learn something, my mom can also be my teacher.

I am sorry for all the tantrums I threw as a child. From what I hear, they were pretty rotten. I am sure I will have a kid that throws them just like I did though. Karma. And I'll be calling you when she is rolling around on the mall floor, screaming, asking you what I should do. I love you, and let's be friends forever.

Blog Challenge. Day 23.

Day 23: Something you crave for a lot.

I often have cravings for several things. I crave Simply Orange orange juice, I crave chocolate, I crave Coca-Cola, I crave exercising, I crave ice cream. But the thing I crave most often when I have a major craving is

oreos and milk.

A lot of people like oreos, but I know many people do not understand why I love oreos so much. Many times I would prefer oreo cookies and a big glass of cold milk over homemade cookies. I realize that the oreo is not that incredible. Two chocolate cookies with fattening cream in the middle. But I love oreos for more than just their taste. They almost represent my childhood in a way. They are nostalgic for me.

When I was just a little girl and we went to visit Grandpa and Grandma Keller, I always had oreos. When you went to their house, you had your heart's desire when it came to candy. My grandpa did and still does have his infamous candy drawer. The freezer was and still is always full of ice cream. On the counter always sat and still sits the welcoming m&m jar, filled to the rim with the colorful, chocolate candies. But the thing I was most fond of was the oreo tin.

My grandpa was always the candy man, but when it came to the oreo tin. . .now that was my grandma's. She knew how much I loved it too, because every time we visited, without fail, she would pull me into the kitchen and reach up for the high cupboard. And without fail, whenever she reached for that high cupboard, my heart skipped a beat. She would pull out the old tin and set it on the counter in front of me. Sadly, I can't even remember what was on the tin. I think it may have been a little boy in pajamas eating oreos, but I am not for sure. I am fairly sure the tin was green though. While I peered excitedly at the tin, my grandma got a glass out and poured it full of milk for me. She would then pull off the lid to the tin, which was always full of oreos. Never ever did I eat an oreo out of the oreo bag at her house. It always came from the oreo tin.

I remember exploring the ways to eat the oreo as well. My grandma always dipped them in the milk, so that is what I started out doing. Then I remember when my dad introduced me to the way I eat them to this day. My dad and I grab a couple oreos, drop them in the milk, let them soak a while, and then scoop them out with a spoon.

Oreos are more than just a good cookie for me to eat. They represent my childhood. They make me remember bonding with family as we ate them together. They make me think of simple days of having no worries, back when I could eat as many oreos as I wanted and not stop to think about all the calories I was eating.

Maybe that is why I often have a craving for oroes when I am feeling stressed. If I have had a bad day, or have a big test, I turn to a bag of oreos, a glass of milk, and a spoon. Then, as I eat them, life feels a little less complicated. I think I will always have my grandma Keller in mind when I eat an oreo, and that wonderful tin she kept her cookies hidden in. I wonder what ever happened to that tin.

Blog Challenge. Day 22.

Day 22: What makes you different from everyone else?







Where do I begin?



When I was a little girl, I remember my grandma Reeder always telling me something that has stuck with me my whole life.



"Weird is wonderful."







I guarantee you I will someday have a sign hanging in my house that will say this. I will even put her name on it so I will be quoting her.







I am not sure if she constantly told me this to make me feel better about my weird self or if she really meant it. Maybe a little of both, but I am quite sure she really meant it. She would always tell me growing up, that anyone can be normal. Normal people are boring. It is the weird people that are interesting. They are the ones you want to be around. I took this to heart. I began embracing everything that was different about me.







When I got to be in middle school, I felt a little insecure at times about my weird, wonderful self. Because truth is, I am a little different. I realize I am a little goofy compared to most people. I like being goofy, but sometimes I feel like I have a hard time relating with people. I have never had a hard time being social, but I have a hard time really opening up to people and letting them be my friend. I figure that maybe people wouldn't understand some things about me and would judge me.







I have never once stopped from being myself though. So I guess what makes me the most different from other people, is that I like being different. I don't try to fit in. I want to stand out. I am not afraid to walk to the beat of my own drum, even if I am walking alone sometimes. . .and getting weird looks from everyone else. I will do outrageous things to my hair, I will wear things that other people don't wear, I will say things I think are funny that make no sense to anyone else. I try to step back and look at the world in my own unique way. I have made my own self-discovery that weird really is wonderful. Honestly, I think everyone is a little weird. Most people just fight off their weirdness. They try to hide it with a bunch of fake normality. So take my grandma's word, and my word too:





Weird is wonderful. :)

Blog Challenge. Day 21.

Day 21: A picture of something that makes you happy.

It seems like I get happy by some of the most simple things. Honestly, anything slightly happy you could think of, probably makes me extra happy. I tend to get overly excited about basic things. I guess I never grew out of being a kid. But here are just a few things that make me happiest. . .

Brian Weller makes me happy. I obviously look pretty jolly in this picture.

Good hair days make me happy!

Soft falling snow makes me happy. One of my favorite things to do when it is snowing is to go outside, stare up at the falling flakes, and clear my head of all thoughts. This cartoon below also makes me happy. Ha ha!

Small, cuddly creatures make me happy.

Wrestling makes me happy. Playful wrestling where I don't hurt the other person. It is good bonding, plus you burn calories. See pictures below:

Working out makes me happy!

My friends and family make me happy.

Fireworks make me happy!

And last of all, it makes me happy when YOU view my blog! So thanks!

God Hears Amen Wherever You Are. And I Love You.

I am afraid I am a failure to the Blog Challenge. I tried my hardest. But this week has just about done me in. I promise I will get caught up when I have the chance. At last minute, I had to pack a bag up and head to Salt Lake with my mom and brother. My brother, Jace has surgery on his foot tomorrow morning. He broke it in nine different places last spring and it didn't heal correctly. He is a trooper. He never complains. So I am here to help my mom out. We left in a rush, in order to beat this blizzard. Everyone be safe tonight. Pretty please. And I'll be blogging again soon.

Blog Challenge. Day 20.

Day 20: Someone you see yourself marrying/being with in the future.

In high school, my friends use to always say I would be the first girl in our group to get married. I do not know whether they said this because they believed it, or just because they wanted to watch me throw a fit. I would get so mad every time anyone would say something like, "You are going to get married right after you graduate." Hearing this only motivated me to hit someone. So I became an enemy against marriage. I decided it was evil. Every time I heard someone lecturing us about how we were suppose to not put off getting married, I wanted to tell them to gag me.

I will get married when I want to get married.


Maybe I won't get married at all.

So I started saying I was never going to get married. I was in denial. I know deep down that I will get married. And I will admit, I want to get married. But it is something I do not want to rush into. I feel like too many people rush into it just because they think they are suppose to. Well, not me. I look up to Audrey Hepburn. I think she is gorgeous inside and out. And I love this quote from her:

"If I get married, I want to be very married."

When I am married, I want to be very married. Totally in love and excited for life with that other person. There are too many divorces nowadays, and I do not want to fall victim to it.

The man I marry will have a sense of humor. We have to be able to laugh about things. He has to be able to put up with my weird-self. Not just put up with it, but appreciate that I am a little odd. I want him to think I am funny, and I will think he is the funniest man alive as well. He will have a wild sense of adventure. I do not want to waste my life away just going through the motions. I want to experience things. I don't even have to experience big things. But the simple, every day things. I want to randomly sing karaoke with him at a restaurant, I want to start a food fight with him in our kitchen. Basically, he has to be fun and take on life in a big way. He will be a provider. This is important. I do not want some lazy man that can't hold a job. I want a man that works hard and likes to work. In return, I will work hard for him. He will love God. I want my husband to have a strong relationship with his Father in Heaven and Savior. I feel this is essential to us having a happy family. He will be patient. I need someone that will be patient with me and all my many flaws. He will love cuddling. If he doesn't love cuddling, that would be a bad situation. He needs to allow me to maul him, and he will maul me back. He will think I am beautiful even when I am having one of those days when I wear things that do not match. And he will especially appreciate it when I look dang good. He will be good with kids. Since we will be having fifty of them. Totally kidding. I do not want fifty kids. Especially after my lesson on childbearing in my Family and Marriage Relations class. Ick. But I still want kids, and we have to be fun parents. He will be creative because I am creative, and I don't think I could handle living all of forever with a complete dud. He will not be afraid to get his hands dirty. If he is a man, he will do man's work. He has to be able to take care of me, work with tools, build fires, and other manly things. He will protect me and make me feel safe. I want to feel comfort every time I hear his voice or feel his arms around me. He will be slightly off-colored about things. Maybe that is a bad thing to want in a husband, but I really do not want some perfect Peter Priesthood guy. I can't live my life afraid of not being perfect for my husband. If he swears once in a while and tells a slightly dirty joke on occasion, then I will know my world is alright. He will play me songs on his guitar. Ahem. He will be honest in everything he does. If he is not honest with others, how can I trust him to be honest with me? He will sincerely care about other people. I want a caring husband, someone who is good with people and makes them feel special. He will be my best friend. My pal.

R.I.P. Dear, Feathered Hat

I am not positive of the whereabouts of my hat, but I am fairly sure it is floating down the Logan River. How did it get in the river? Let me tell you.

Yesterday was not the best day ever. First off, I slept in until almost 11. Most people are in bad moods if they do not get enough sleep. My body works completely opposite. If I get too much sleep, I turn into Medusa. So I was beating myself up for sleeping my whole morning away. Then I did a yoga workout and started on homework. Then I showered. Not a very eventful day. I took some of my anger out on poor Brian. He showed up at my apartment around 5:00 pm. Our parents were to meet that night for the first time. We had dinner reservations at Hamilton's at 7:30. It had started snowing about a half an hour maybe before Brian showed up. We both like the snow. We think it is pretty. So Brian had a plan to brighten my day. He wanted to take me on a ride up the canyon because it was softly snowing and it was calm and pretty. I thought that sounded like a wonderful idea. I wanted out of my apartment badly. I changed into my nice outfit for dinner, put some makeup on, and placed my feathered, black hat carefully on my head. It looked so nice, my hair was framed perfectly underneath it. Before we left I grabbed my camera and threw it into my purse.

"Just in case anything exciting happens," I had said.

So off we went. After we got up the canyon a little ways, it was no longer softly snowing. The snow was coming down hard, and the road was quickly getting covered. I started getting super paranoid. Every time we passed a car, I would flinch a little. Brian laughed at me. I told myself to stop acting ridiculous. We were going slow, like 20 or 30, and Brian knew what he was doing. Finally I said,

"Brian, maybe we should turn around and go back now."

He agreed and told me he would find a good spot to turn around at. We never turned around. At least, we didn't turn around the way we wanted to.

We hit a patch of ice and started sliding for the side of the road. Brian tried to grasp control of the vehicle and slowly turned the other way slightly. "He has got it," I thought, "we just hit a slick spot. That's all." Well, we hit an even slicker spot and started sliding quickly across the road. As we were sliding this time, I knew we were going to wreck. Not only that, but we were going to slide right into the Logan River. It all seemed to happen so slowly, like I had plenty of time for a million and one thoughts to process through my head. I watched the river getting closer and closer and thought about dreams I had as a child.

I always had reoccurring nightmares when I was little about driving off a bridge into water. In the dream, we could never get our doors open because of the water. I instantly panicked and realized my dream was going to become a reality.

As we were sliding for the river, I told myself I was probably going to die. I honestly came to terms with myself that I was about to roll to my death. I wondered if I was ready. I wondered what death would feel like. I started wondering if I would be missed. I started thinking about all the things I hadn't done yet in life. I thought about how I had just blogged the day before about the dreams and goals I had for myself. How would I accomplish them now? I wondered if I had lived a good enough life. Then I yelled to Brian,

"Brian, we are going to die."

And I sincerely meant it.

Brian was yelling commands at me that we were going to roll into the river and I needed to keep my body relaxed, but I did not hear any of it.

Danger Ranger (Brian's truck) went down the river bank. It was a fairly steep drop off. The truck began rolling. I remember having my eyes open during that amount of time too. I remember holding my purse tight against my chest and looking straight forward. I saw bushes whack against the windshield. I felt myself go upside down, like I had felt many times on amusement park rides. The happy rush didn't come to my stomach the way it did on amusement park rides though. This was the kind of rush like. . . .

'We are going to be found dead in the river and be late for our dinner reservation and our parents won't know where we are' kind of rush.

We rolled one and a half times. I think I closed my eyes after I knew we were in water. When I opened them again, I saw Brian reaching for me.

"Baby, are you okay?"

I opened my eyes, I was hanging sideways. Half my head was laying in the river water. I lifted my head and looked around frantically. I was going into shock. The glass was completely blown out of my window and water was seeping in. My foot felt cold. I realized it was because my boot covered foot was through the window, pushing on the bottom of the river bed. I carefully lifted it out. My hat was no longer on my head. It must have fallen off.

"Where is my hat? Brian, my hat is gone. Brian, I need my hat!"

I started looking around for any sign of my hat so I could place it back on my wet head. The only thing I could focus on at all was finding my hat.

Brian got me to calm down and told me we needed to get out of the truck.

"Are we going to drown?"

"No Kels, the water is not that deep. We just need to get out."

He asked if I was bleeding. If I hurt. I said I thought I was fine. He told me to take my seat belt off. Then I realized my arm was stuck behind my seat. Brian helped me pull it out and I unbuckled my seat belt. He told me to give him a little kiss. I did. It calmed me down a little bit. He hoisted me up and we stuck our heads out the passenger window, which also had no glass in it. Brian had turned the hazzard lights on, and thank goodness someone saw us. A man came over right at that moment we had stuck our heads out. I think he was preparing himself to find dead bodies. After he discovered we were both alright, he helped us out of the truck. I went first. I was going to jump on the count of three. The man had his hand out for me to grab. I jumped as hard as I could and about took the guy out.

I climbed up to the road and walked over to his vehicle to get in with his wife. I was trying to fight back the shock I was in. His wife was a gorgeous, little lady from South America. She was pretty concerned about me. She was concerned about the mess in her car too. There were three little kids in the back. She started cleaning the mess up.

"It's fine," I said, "I know how little kids are. I have younger siblings."

She smiled and calmed down a little after that. Until she looked at my hand. Then she started freaking out again.

"You are bleeding!"

I looked down to see my hand covered in blood. There were some drops of blood on my leggings too. She started dabbing at my hand with baby wipes. I only had a few small cuts on my hand. They must have bled a lot since it was the hand I had stuck in the river water.

After what seemed like forever, I was moved to a cop truck that had showed up. The cop walked me to his truck and I saw Brian directing traffic. Who is this kid? He had just rolled his truck into a river and he is out directing traffic. I hugged him. An hour passed. I sat alone in the truck. Finally I was taken to another cop car where I was told they would take my boyfriend and I home. We started out of the canyon. The cop started telling us about what a crazy night it had been. Two semi trucks off the road and two other cars besides us. The canyon was not a safe place to be tonight. He was amazed we were both alright. I looked at the clock. It was now 7.

"Brian, do you think we will make it for our reservation?"

Brian laughed, "I think so."

The cop asked what our plans were.

"Our parents are meeting for the first time tonight. We had dinner plans," I told him.

The cop smiled, "At least you'll have something to talk about then. Nice ice breaker."

We all shared a laugh.

Here are two pictures I managed to take of Danger Ranger being baptized by the Logan River:

After we had cell service, Brian and I both called our parents, informing them we would be a bit late to dinner since we rolled into the river. We got back to my apartment. I combed the glass out of my now frizzy hair and put a headband on. I also changed my wet socks and boots into dry ones. Then we were off. Our parents were a little freaked out I think, but a steak dinner was just what I needed. It was comforting to fall into my mom and dad's arms as well.


I am proud of myself that I didn't shed a single tear during this whole ordeal. But mostly I am grateful. I have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. I am so happy I am here today. A little sore and tired, but still here and well. It really is a miracle that Brian and I are both fine. I am grateful that Brian had such good control and composure, for my sake. I am grateful for seatbelts. I am grateful for helpful people. I am grateful for police officers. I am grateful for snow tires. I am grateful for my parents. I am grateful for medium rare steak. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father for watching out for us.


I will never drive up the canyon ever again during a snow storm. I will also never again take things for granted. Okay, I probably will because I am not perfect. But I will try and remind myself of how valuable life is. How short it is. How quickly it can be taken away from you. I want to live every minute like it could be my last, because you never know what will happen. And when the moment comes that life is over for me, I want to know that I have lived life well. Let's just hope that moment does not come for me in a very, very, VERY long time.


Happy Thanksgiving week and count your many blessings!

A picture of us after the wreck. Just to let everyone know we are doing great. The sad part is that Brian is kinda faking this freaked out face and I am attempting to mask my shock with this pathetic smile. Don't mind my frizzy, crazy hair. Remember, my head got dunked in the river a little bit.

Blog Challenge. Day 19.

Day 19: Nicknames you have; why do you have them?

Oh, me and some of the nicknames I have been given. The majority of my nicknames are just plain ridiculous to be honest. Here are a few of them I have been given throughout my lifetime:


Fat Butt. This was given to me by my Grandpa Steve Reeder. I think he started calling me this because he had called my aunt Amy the same thing when she was little. Everyone has always thought Amy and I looked a lot alike. We did look the same as younger girls, except her hair was blonde. So I guess since I reminded him of Amy, he would try calling me "Fat Butt" as well. Apparently it had made Amy really mad when she got called this. It had the opposite affect on me. For some reason, I loved it when my grandpa called me Fat Butt. Weird, I know. I always have kinda liked it though when people tease me, so maybe I figured by him teasing me, he was really saying, "I love you". The ironic part about this nickname is that I was not a fat child. My fat butt did not exist. I was actually known for having a very bony butt. I never was able to sit on anyone's lap for very long before they complained about my tailbone digging into them. Thanks any ways, Grandpa. Maybe someday I will earn the right to this nickname.

Crazy. In middle school, my volleyball number was 8. I loved the number 8, it was my favorite. So pretty soon the team started calling me Crazy 8. Which later shortened down to just Crazy. I still remember going up to serve and hearing my teammates yell, "Go Crazy!" Ha ha.

Kels. It is easier to say than Kelsey I guess? But I really like it when people close to me call me Kels sometimes. I find it endearing. Strange, I know. My girl friends called me Kels a lot, but more so my guy friends. So I guess it makes me think of my guy friends that were always so protective of me. I love them :). My guy friends rarely called me Kelsey. It was always just Kels.

Wolf Pup #1. Another nickname from Grandpa Steve. That man is all about nicknames. After he got so many grandkids, he started referring to us as his wolf pups. Pretty soon, he gave us each a wolf pup number. Since I am the first and oldest grandkid, I earned the right to #1.

Krispy Killer. Talk about a goofy nickname. It has kinda stuck though with all girls I played high school sports with. Usually they just call me Krispy though. Let me tell you how this nickname came about. First, the Killer part. I don't know if people did it to be funny, or if the name Keller was really that difficult for people to pronounce. But at all our away games when they would announce the starting line-up, I was usually announced as Kelsey Killer. It happened all the time in basketball especially. I am starting to think that Coach Line probably thought it was funny after it happened once so he changed my name on the roster. He would do something like that. Then the Krispy part. A kid at a different school seriously thought my name was Krispy. He thought it was so cool that my name was Krispy. But no, it is really just Kelsey. Sorry. The basketball team found this very funny, so I instantly became Krispy. Krispy Killer.

Angel. I have always been my daddy's angel. So this is my nickname from him.

K Squared/ K2. I think this nickname is pretty cool. Brian gave it to me. When we were first dating and getting to know each other, he started calling me K Squared, since my initials are KK. It became his little pet name for me. I remember I had been out of town at a track meet the weekend of Valentine's Day. When I got to my apartment door, there was a gift bag on the door knob. On the bag was an envelope with a huge K2 sketched on the front. I jumped with excitement, knowing it was from Brian.

That's all. :)

Blog Challenge. Day 18.

Day 18: Plans/dreams/goals you have. . .

I have probably millions of dreams. Many of them have turned into actual goals that I want to reach. While some are in the works of becoming actual plans. I could go on forever. But I won't. Here is a list of a few important things I dream of doing in my lifetime:

1. Have a family. The more and more I think about it, the more excited I get about one day being a mom. I do not know how I will do at raising children, but it will be an advenutre. And I don't plan on having children for another good ten years. . .or five. Well, I'll just focus on finding a Mr. first before I worry about the kid part.





2. Adopt. I want to adopt REALLY bad! Believe me, if you ever went to another country and spent two weeks with beautiful orphan children, you would be determined to give them a home too.





3. Get married in the temple to my best friend in the whole wide world.





4. Get an internship the summer of 2012 at a news station in SLC.





5. Graduate from USU in December of 2012





6. Move out of Utah/Idaho. Even just for a little bit. I would love to end up back here though. When I start popping out kids.





7. Travel. I would love to travel the world. I have done a bit of traveling in my short lifetime, and I absolutely love it. If I had lots of money, I'd rather live in a small house and use most of my money to go places and experience things. A few of the places I dream of going are: Thailand, Greece, India, Denmark, Germany, South America, the South in this country, Australia, and all over the continent of Africa. I realize I probably will not make it to all these places. But a girl can dream, right?





8. Be a reporter or anchor for a news station. I am not sure that I want to work my whole life, but I would love to work in my field of study even if it is not for a way long time. I just feel so passionate about what I am learning right now, and I want to use what I am learning.




9. Write a book. I have always wanted to do this, but always decided it was too much time and work that might be wasted if it never gets published. I have decided though, that even if I do not actually get published, it won't matter. I will still have wrote a book. So I am going to try.




10. Fix up an old home. My dream home would be the old victorian farm home style. I think it would be an awesome journey to actually live in an old home and fix it up. I want to decorate with antiques and quilts and things. I just want it to have that cozy home feel.




11. I want to scuba dive really bad.




12. I would absolutley adore being able to be an actual spectator at the summer olympics. The summer olympics are one of my favorite things that make it on television. Seriously, I become a couch potato when the summer olympics come on. I am a little bit of a sports fanatic, but it's more than just that. I love hearing the athletes' stories. I love the history of the olympics themselves. I also love learning about the history and culture of the place that hosts the olympics. I can be kind of a history nerd sometimes.




13. I want to go to the Kentucky Derby, wear a big fancy hat, and act important.

The list could go on and on, but I believe I will stop here. I love having dreams. I just think it is sad that so many people have dreams but then never really pursue them. I hope I can always motivate myself to pursue them. Thanks for reading and happy weekend!!

Blog Challenge. Day 17.

Day 17: Someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why.

I got thinking about this question pretty hard. Maybe I would want to be a celebrity so that I could walk around and get chased by a camera, while wearing really expensive clothes. Maybe I would want to be a professional athlete so that I could jump really high. Just for fun. Maybe I would want to be a genius so I could do math all day long and never complain once because I would actually know what I was doing.

This decision of mine all boils down to one thing. . . . the TRUTH.

Every person in the world has a hard life in some way or another. So switching lives with someone for a day would not be as magical as everyone thinks. I have realized this just within the last year.

I remember back when I use to compare myself to other girls. Girls I did not even know. Girls that I did know too. I would see a girl and instantly start comparing myself to her. I think a lot of girls do this. . .even if they won't admit it. It is not a healthy thing to do at all. Why compare?

Happy to say, I have pretty much conquered this unhealthy habit. It was hard, but I did it. I have learned more fully to appreciate other girls for what they are. And also. . . .they aren't me. I have just faced the facts that there are always going to be girls out there that are prettier than me. Girls that are better athletes than me. Girls that are smarter than me. Girls that have more money than me. And I have decided that these facts are a-okay! Because I will always be better at something than all those other girls as well. And no one is better at being me than me. I have realized how silly it is for girls to always be thinking, "Oh, I wish I was more like so and so. . ." Because honestly, so and so is probably wishing sometimes that she was you. Isn't that crazy?

So my answer, plain and simple, is that if I had the chance to switch lives with anyone for a day, I wouldn't take it. I don't want to be anyone other than me. Even if it is only for a day. Because being me rocks! And if you think my answer is a cop-out. . . .maybe you have self-esteem issues. Go work on loving your life a little more. Because I bet being you rocks too!

Just a Little Gem to Share

I came across this old picture and thought perhaps Shay and Cat would appreciate it.

Days at the Mexican Bus. Mexican sodas and cake. Yum. What do you say we go to Mexico someday and drink soda and eat cake there? You in?

Blog Challenge. Day 16.

Day 16: Another picture of yourself.

So I got something cool put in my hair. Check it out. . . .

Yep, I was pretty stoked about my new cool hair beads. I will be sad when it falls out. I have these two nifty charms on the end. The blue charm has a bird sitting on a branch. Then I have the "K" charm to stand for Kelsey. Or Keller. Whichever.

Make a Wish, Restless Child

It is now 2:22 AM. Whenever the time reads all the same numbers, I usually make a wish. So I am going to make a wish now. But I can't say what it is, or it may not come true.

But what I can say is that I am tired. I am to the point where my body is so tired that I am now numb to it. It is similar to when you are out in the snow and the snow makes your fingers and toes freeze. However, after time passes, you can no longer feel your fingers and toes. They are still cold. Very cold. But so cold it does not matter anymore. Then when you get inside and put them by the fire, they ache. I will probably start aching tomorrow morning. Especially since I have 7:30 class. Boo.

I am stressed. The semester is coming to an end and it is stressing me out. I have various final projects that will be due soon that I still have a lot to work on. I feel like I do homework for hours, but yet I get nowhere because there is still tons to do. It is like this endless journey. Like I am running in a circle or something. I registered for Spring semester classes tonight as well. That is one reason I am still up. I was forced to stay up until midnight so I could be one of the other thousand students jumping on the site to cause it to crash. I was worn out and ready to go to bed tonight at about 9:30. I went to bed last night at 11:00 and it was glorious. I need earlier bedtimes! I also think it is time to find a second job. Especially since thus far, I only have 13 credits for next semester. I am on the waiting list for another class, so we will see what happens. Ah, the life of a grown up! I was one of those wise children that never once wished her childhood away. I knew that being six was where it was at! No responsibility.

Some days I really feel like letting all responsibility and stress go. Being little again. Better yet, just dropping out of life for a few days. I think if we were allowed to do that, the world would be a better place. Sometimes I think all we need is a little break. Time to run away from all worries and pretend to be someone else for a day. That is what I want. On top of all the school stress, I have been super restless lately. This is something that happens often for me. Luckily, it has been a while since I have had my last restless attack. I have been doing well. This one is almost worse though now because I am not use to feeling restless anymore. Those that know me best know that I am a restless, impulsive little thing. And right now, I feel like being impulsive and running away for a few days.

You know what I really wanna do?????

I want to jump in the car with a full tank of gas and just drive. Drive and drive until I run out of gas. When the tank hits empty, we'll see what town I end up in.

Or better yet, I would just love to take a wad of cash and head to the airport. I would just walk up and announce I want to buy a ticket for a flight on standby. Any flight. And then I would see where my money would send me to. Even if it was some lame place on the map I had never heard of, it would not matter one bit. Because in that lame place I never heard of, I wouldn't have to be Kelsey Keller with responsibilities. I could be whoever I wanted. I would stay for the weekend, and then fly back home, ready to take on all responsibility again.

One day, I am going to do that. Count on it.

Blog Challenge. Day 15.

I am on Day 15. Look at that. I am half way there. It feels good. I have been doing homework nonstop for the past few hours, so I am excited to blog. And today is fun because it involves something I love. . .MUSIC.







Day 15: Put your iPod on shuffle. . . First 10 songs that play.



I will now have Little Miss Blue (that is the name of my iPod, and yes I do name my belongings) play her little heart out.



1. The Great Escape by: Boys Like Girls

How much do I absolutely adore this song? A lot. I think of easier times. Not that they were better. Just easier. So carefree. Back in a town where everyone knew everyone, and where the possibilties were endless. I think of weekend nights reeking havoc with the girls. And yes, we did reek havoc. Oh, the stories of stupidity and pranks we pulled that I have to tell. This is my favorite part of the song: "Tonight will change our lives. It's so good to be by your side. We'll cry. We won't give up the fight. We'll scream loud at the top of our lungs, and they'll think it's just cuz we're young. We'll feel so alive." Oh how I love that. I hope my whole life I will scream loud at the top of my lungs, letting everyone know I am young at heart and alive.




2. Hello Mr. Heartache by: Dixie Chicks

So I totally love the Dixie Chicks. I think basically because I loved them as a little girl. So I remember myself being little again. I see a little girl with long, wavy brown hair, riding in the tractor with Grandpa Steve, my skin completely baked to a dark brown by the summer sun.



3. With Me by: Sum 41

I adore this song and I adore Sum 41. This could possibly be one of my most favorite cliche love songs ever! Catherine and I wanted it for our Senior Prom song SO bad. . .but for the first time in our lives we actually did not get our way. It is alright, Sum 41. You still rock in my book. "In front of your eyes, it falls from the skies." It is funny how correct this statement is. Especially when it comes to love.





4. Check Yes Juliet by: We the Kings

I think most people know and love this song. It is about running away with the person you love, even if everyone else has a different plan for you. Because who cares about the plan when you are in love, right? This song is fun. "Run, baby, run. Don't ever look back."



5. 99 Red Balloons by: Goldfinger

Oh yes, I have not listened to this song in forever! But it is great! This song instantly puts me in a good mood. So many times after listening to it, I have been tempted to go and buy 99 red balloons and just let them go. Most likely walk out onto the dock of a lake, when the sun is setting, and let them go. And I'll be wearing a sundress. . .because it will be summer time. I want to do it. I think it would feel liberating. I want to experience exactly what this song is singing about. I really am going to do it. Let 99 red balloons go before I die. Maybe even next summer if I feel like it. "99 dreams I have had. Every one a red balloon."




6. Here Comes the Sun by: The Beatles

Whenever I hear this song, I think of my wonderful high school English teacher. We had a discussion about this very song before class one time. He loved the Beatles and so did I. We loved a lot of the same things. He was a retired hippie. He actually called me his "flower child" and I was quite fond of it. This is his very favorite Beatles song, written by George Harrison I believe. It is a song about being optimistic. "Here comes the sun, doo, doo, doo, doo. ."



7. Fix You by: Coldplay

I feel like Coldplay is the mastermind behind some of the most moving songs ever. This song moves me every time I hear it. Just listen to the very start of the song. . ."When you try your best but you don't succeed. When you get what you want but not what you need. When you feel so tired but you can't sleep. Stuck in reverse. And the tears come streaming down your face when you lose something you can't replace. When you love someone but it goes to waste. Could it be worse? Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you."
Yep, that's moving stuff right there. I totally relate with this song. There have been countless times that I have been the one that needs to feel my bones ignite, and probably more times that I have tried to do the igniting. I have this disease where I think I need to fix people. When they are hurting, I put myself through their hurt and try to mend them. I think that is a major reason I love this song so much.



8. The Way I Am by:Ingrid Michaelson

I might possibly want to sing this song to my husband at our wedding. Whenever that day comes. I'll play the tambourine and all. It reminds me of myself a little. It is a happy and kind of weird song. Just like me. A happy and weird person. "If you are chilly, here take my sweater. Your head is aching, I'll make it better. Cuz I love the way you call me, 'baby'. And you take me the way I am."



9. Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

I have always been a fan of the Goo Goo Dolls. I know this is silly, but whenever I hear this song, I am taken back to the first night I hung out with Brian. Mostly because it was playing on my mix cd when Brian arrived at my apartment. I remember not knowing what to expect. I did not know what I wanted. I had no clue what he wanted. For some strange reason, I did not take time to put make-up on. All I wore on my face was lip gloss. I did not take an hour to get ready for our date like I did for most other dates. And I have no idea why. Because I wanted to impress him. But maybe I was just ready to be myself more than be ready to impress. He was the first boy ever that I was able to completely be myself with. And I was from the very start, even though I sometimes tried hard to strategize and play games like I had in the past. Just like the song says, "I don't want the world to see me, because I don't think that they'd understand. When everything is meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." How very ironic that these are the lyrics that were blasting the very first time Brian sat on my couch, waiting for me to unplug my cd player.



10. High by: James Blunt

This may just be my favorite James Blunt song. It makes me imagine myself an older Kelsey. Waking up early, in the wee hours of the morning, with my husband. We will put our robes on and we look out the window at the sun peaking over the horizon at us. . .and it warms up my whole soul and makes me feel high. Our kids are grown ups by this time. Yes, when I said older Kelsey I meant old. Like grandma old. And I am happy. "Promise me tomorrow starts with you getting high. Beautiful dawn."


Wow, that was so much fun. Sorry for going into detail on each song, but this was a much needed break from homework.

Blog Challenge. Day 14.

Day 14: A picture of you and your family.

I am a little bit sad because we just got family pictures taken a few weeks ago. With my luck, we will get them back later this week or something. So I will have to use an older picture. . .but as soon as I can, I will get some of our new beautiful pictures up. She is editing them right now. If you want some excellent pictures taken then check out Melanie's blog. She is great!

But here is a family picture taken a couple years ago:

We all look pretty different since this was taken. I was a senior in high school. The only person that looks exactly the same is my dad. My mom is a tiny, little skinny girl now. My sisters are a bit bigger. And Jace looks way different. He looks like a little boy in this picture. Now he is a man with a deep voice and he actually thinks he can beat me up (he can't). Jace actually hates this picture because I am squishing his face in it. Muahahaha. . .

I love my family so much. My extended family too. I feel so very blessed to have the wonderful relationships I do with family members. I feel happy to say that my parents are some of the first people I go to for advice. I think it is special how close I am with my extended family as well. In high school, my aunts were always there for me to give me advice with boys or sports. My grandparents came to all my sporting events and performances. I have never been good at card games, but I for sure got dealt the winning hand when it came to my family. They are my best friends. Even though I get frustrated with my siblings sometimes and maybe don't come home as often as my mom and dad would hope, I really want them to know how much I adore each of them.

Love you, Keller Clan!!

Blog Challenge. Day 13.

Day 13: A letter to someone who has hurt you recently.

I don't really get "hurt" easily. For some girls, writing a letter to someone who hurt them recently would be easy, since some girls feel people are hurting them on a daily basis. Quite honestly, I don't care what a lot of people say or think about me. If they want to waste their time and energy being mean, then too bad for them.

Whenever someone attempts to "hurt" me and I start feeling hurt, I tend to replace my hurt feelings with feelings of anger. Not exactly the best habit ever, but it is how I deal with it. I get mad for a short while, get some angry music going on my ipod, and go work my guts out. People that know me best, know that when I am amazingly quick tempered and mad at this time, that I am really just trying to not feel pain. They understand that, so they give me my space. After I am left alone and angry for a while, everything is fine again. We don't bring it up. It's over.

So writing a letter to someone who hurt me recently is a big deal for me. Kinda scary actually. And in all honesty, the last time I can think of someone seriously "hurting" me happened a few years ago. I know that is not very recent. But still. I could write plenty of letters to people that have recently irritated the crap out of me. Hurting me is a different story. This really feels like a personal thing for me to talk about as well, so bear with me. I am taking a big step from my comfort zone.

I was seventeen when someone really hurt me last, but since then, I have watched other girls get hurt in similar ways by similar useless people, and then I am reminded of the hurt I felt before. Then I start hurting for other girls I know of who suffer. So maybe to avoid writing too personal of a letter, I will write this letter to the person who hurt me. . .plus all the other guys like him.

So here is my letter.

Dear Manipulating Men,

Quite honestly, I am not even sure your type deserve the title of "Men". I thought men were suppose to take care of women and make them feel safe. You do not do that. You are some pathetic man to feel the need to put a girl down, making her feel useless in order to make yourself feel strong and powerful. Someday, she will realize how pathetic you really are. And she will realize she deserves better. Much better. She'll realize you were a liar when you told her all those times that you were the best thing she would ever be able to get. She will realize how amazing and beautiful she is. She will realize that she has the power to do positive things for the world. . .with the help of an amazing and beautiful man by her side. She will realize how worthless you really are. She will realize how weak you are. She will realize that she feels really bad for you and the road to nowhere you are taking in life.

I sincerely hope one day you will all sort your sick heads out and put your act together. But sad to say, I think that is a big hope. Because you are lazy and you do not want to admit how wrong you are.

With little to no love,

Kelsey Keller

To any girl that has ever been in a bad relationship. . .you can get out. I did once, and I have seen many other girls get out too. Luckily I escaped before things got too bad. Just remember the people that really love you. Your family and friends. They are the people that are going to encourage you to be your very best all the time. They will never put you down. Love you all and I believe in you.

Blog Challenge. Day 12.

Day 12: How you found out about blogs and why you made one.

I have known about blogs for quite a while. I just never had bothered thinking about creating one for myself. I think when I first heard about them, I was in high school. I was busy doing high school things like chasing boys, basketball practice, planning school dances, and putting condoms over random people's exhaust pipes on their cars. At that time, writing in a blog did not seem like such a cool thing for me to do.

After coming to school at USU, I started hearing more and more about blogs. I am majoring in journalism. Although some people think maybe journalism is dying, it is not. It is just changing. I am getting to experience a revolution in my field of study. . .which I find to be pretty exciting. Journalists are learning to use the internet as a tool to get their information out.

I was also told countless times by different professors to WRITE. Write, write, and write some more. And read. The only way to improve my writing abilities would be to write and read what other people have written. So I came to the conclusion, maybe a blog would be a good idea. Plus, I thought it would be fun as well.

Not that my blog is completely like a journal, but it is similar. I try to be wise about putting things on here that are way too personal, but it is still good to write about my thoughts and feelings. I have always loved writing in my journal. The bad part is, I never stop writing when I start an entry. My entries will be pages long. Sometimes it is difficult to finish a whole entry like I want. Plus I get MAJOR hand cramps. I like to still write in my journal, but it is much easier to type a blog entry.

I love my blog. And I was wrong ever thinking that blogging wasn't for me. You do not have to be married, or have kids, or sell things to be a blogger. All you have to really be is an interesting person with a story to tell.

Blog Challenge. Day 11.

Day 11: Another picture of you and your friends.

I decided to post a few pictures of friends I have met after coming to college. Some of my friends at college were still friends I had in high school as well. :)

Blog Challenge. Day 10.

Day 10: Songs you listen to when you are happy, sad, bored, hyped, mad.

Music is a thing that I constantly have going in my life. I wish sometimes that fitting songs would play in certain parts of life, just like in the movies. Wouldn't that be perfect? An even more perfect world would be if music played and we heard it, and just started singing all together and dancing. Yes, I think life should be just like the movie "Grease".

Yes, that would be the perfect world.

Music has a big play on my emotions. Or emotions on my music. One way or the other. When I am having a rotten day, I instantly run to my music. Same with when I am happy. Same with when I feel like punching a wall. Now I will let you know what songs I actually listen to when I am feeling all these ways. . .

Happy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I Want to Hold Your Hand- My boys, The Beatles

Put Your Records On- Corrine Bailey Rae (my theme song)

My Mindy Gledhill cd

Time- Cute Is What We Aim For

All of Boys Like Girls music

Live Like We're Dying- Kris Allen

Send Me On My Way- Rusted Root

I Believe in a Thing Called Love- The Darkness

Dancing in the Moonlight- King Harvest

We Shot the Moon's music

Ordinary Day- Vanessa Carlton

Music from Kalai (I love him)

Dixie Chicks (Yes, I am a fan)

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

My man Akon

Songs from The Maine

Sad. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Music from The Fray

Music from Coldplay

Little House- Amanda Seyfield

Guardian Angel- Red Jumpsuit

Nicest Thing- Kate Nash

Unbeautiful- Lesley Roy

Tonight- FM Static

Shadow of the Day- Linkin Park

Make This Go On Forever- Snow Patrol

Break Even- The Script

Love the Way You Lie- Eminem feat. Rihanna

Shadows and Regrets- Yellowcard

Here's To The Night- Eve 6

Breathe Me- Sia

Hide and Seek- Imogen Heap

I'd Hate to Be You When People Find Out What This Song is About- Mayday Parade

Bored. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anything really

Hyped. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I won't lie. Usually rap music. Edited versions of course.

Mad. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Typical- Tickle Me Pink (Shayla and I screamed this in a parking lot once)

Gives You Hell- All American Rejects

Prayer of the Refugee- Rise Against

Should've Said No- Taylor Swift

Kelly Clarkson- Never Again

Pink. Obviously.

Mama- My Chemical Romance

Misery Business- Paramore

Anything by Senses Fail

The End.

It is seriously hurting my brain thinking about songs. Plus, it is about midnight.

Practically Perfect in Every Way

There is this lady. She has a bottomless bag which she pulls lamps and other things out of. She tends children and they love her. She flies about with an umbrella. Her name is Mary Poppins. She is practically perfect in every way.

Umbrellas. They are quite interesting contraptions. You push a button and they open up, and keep you covered from rain. They would be much more interesting if we could fly around like Mary Poppins, but all the same, they are interesting things.

On Monday, the weather was depressed. . .and angry. It started out pouring rain. Then the rain grew thicker. It became yucky sleet. Next thing you knew, it was snowing. Cold, harsh weather like this is not fun to walk around campus in. I wore two coats. I wore my warm boots. I wore my colorful mittens. And of course, I carried my umbrella with me. While walking from class to class, I saw many different umbrellas. I noticed most people carrying umbrellas were girls. I guess it bothers girls more to get wetness on their carefully curled heads. I also noticed another thing through all my umbrella observing. Umbrellas can have a lot of personality. They come in all colors and all designs. Some are bright and obnoxious. Some are sophisticated. Some come in animal print. Some are big. Some are small. I was amazed with how unique they all were. Then I started to ask myself if maybe the personalities of these umbrellas fit the personality of the umbrella carrier.

After this random thought of mine (random thoughts like these occur often for me) I looked up at my own umbrella in dismay. He is a little bit beaten. He has indeed sacrificed himself in many storms in order to protect me. Some of his wires are slightly bent up. He is plain black. I guess he appears to be a bit of a boring umbrella. But he has always done his job for me. He has always been reliable. But I couldn't help but wonder,

"Oh no! Am I a boring person?"

I began betraying my umbrella friend by thinking of what kind of umbrella I should invest in. A fun, colorful one perhaps. When I was younger, I remember having an umbrella that looked like a bear. It had a smiling bear face on it, and two sticking up ears. That was a fun umbrella.

Then I wondered how much umbrellas cost exactly, and where I could go to purchase an umbrella. I started thinking about my own boring umbrella again. How much did he cost me? What store did he come from? Then I remembered the day my umbrella and I met. He did not come from any type of a store. He came out of a big, African American man's trench coat. Let me explain. . .

It was my first time ever in New York. I was in awe with it all. For a small town Idaho girl, New York City was quite the huge shocker. I was use to being surrounded by mountains. I was now surrounded by massive buildings. We were going to Phantom of the Opera on Broadway that night. I was quite excited. I was checking something off my bucket list: Phantom on Broadway. This was a big deal. I had my silky, champagne colored dress on. My hair was curled and wrapped into a carefully arranged side-bun (this was before I chopped my hair off). I was wearing my great grandma's intricate hanging earrings. I even had lipstick on. For tonight, as far as I was concerned, I was New York City's best. While passing through Times Square, we stopped at a pizza buffet for some dinner. Upon leaving the restaurant, it was raining. At first it was only a drizzle, but this changed as we walked out the doors. It was as if the rain was waiting for us to come out to play before it came out as well. The sky poured. The rain was pounding down on the bustling streets of NYC. My body was numb. My first-class appearance would be ruined. Suddenly, a tall man was standing by my side. He looked pretty shady. Not that I was being judgemental or anything. He had a long coat wrapped around his body, his hands inside deep pockets. He was saying something to me, but I couldn't understand.

"Huh?"

"Umbrellas for sale. You like?"

He opened up one side of his jacket to reveal several black umbrellas just waiting to be used. Probably screaming to be taken from the dark trench coat, and opened to the world. Opened towards the sobbing sky. I opened up my clutch and pulled out some bills. We exchanged; money for umbrella. This was the first time my umbrella's handle came into my hand. I underestimated him at first, thinking he was some crap umbrella. But I figured it would do to get me to my opera dry and in one piece. Since then, he has gotten me to many places dry and in one piece. And he is not boring at all.

I think after reminiscing about all this, I finally arrived to my next class. I closed my umbrella and shook him off. Then I smiled at him and wiped some droplets of water away. He was the best umbrella ever, and I realized he had tons of personality. Not many people can say they purchased their umbrella off a shady character in Times Square. Most people meet their umbrella for the first time in a generic store. I met my umbrella and opened him up in the middle of a New York City rainstorm.

So here's to you umbrella. And to everyone and everything else that ever gets underestimated. To things worn and used that do their job well. That have more personality than one could ever fathom.

Blog Challenge. Day 9.

"The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes their way. Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried; for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives."

Day 9: Something you are proud of in the last few days.

I have this fault. It is called not liking to do things I am not good at.

This is why I avoid bowling like the plague.

This is why I stopped doing math after my sophomore year of high school (too bad I have to do it again now).

If I do not think I can do well at something, I tend to steer clear away from it. This way, no one knows I am bad at it. I can even tell myself maybe I would be good if I tried. Of course, I don't actually try.

I am realizing more and more how much I hate how I do this. Because it holds me back from taking chances, afraid that other people will show me up and be better than me.

So I stick to all the things I do well at.

But how easy is it to be proud of yourself over things you do well at with not even much effort?

I remember my first math test of this semester when I only missed one problem. That score did not come easy, mind you. I studied very hard for several hours. I remember wanting to cry as I stood in line to get my score. I was in the back of the line, watching as people in front of me got their tests back and screamed in alarm at scores they were not happy with. This did not calm my nerves. When I finally got to the front of the line, I remembered not even wanting to look, afraid that the red inked score on the paper would make the rest of my day terrible. I walked half way back to my seat before looking at my test at all. Then I gave in and looked. I cannot even describe my feelings when I realized my score was a 96%.

From my personal experiences, the things I have conquered which I struggle with give me a much more rewarding feeling than things that come naturally to me.

Last Saturday I ran a 5K. My first 5K ever. I have had many opportunities to run in 5Ks before, but I always found an excuse to not run. Why the excuses? Take a look at me and you will see I am not a distance runner. A sprinter or jumper, yes. Not a distance runner. However, I get labeled as a "runner". The sport of track and field has been a big part of my life. I went to state every year in high school and metaled. I ran on the team last year at Utah State University. Therefore, people suppose I should be good at "running". Well, there is a big difference between running 100 meters with obstacles to jump over and running three miles. Huge difference actually. I run three miles often when I work out, but it is not like I run it competitively. So as you can see, it would make sense why I avoid 5Ks.

My mom has really picked up on running in the past year. She will just go to the track and run for miles and miles. She now fits into my jeans. Yep, she is a hot mom. She has been really excited about running though, and always tries to rope me into running with her. She roped me in for this 5K, and I really wanted to be there to run it with her. So I set my own fears aside of being a bad distance runner, and I ran this 5K with my mom. My aunt Amy also ran, and she agreed to stick back with my mom and I. My mom has been trying to break three miles in 30 minutes for quite some time now, so my aunt and I were determined to push her. Which we did. My mom made her goal and beat the 30 minute mark by several minutes. I was proud of her. I was also proud of myself. It felt so good when I picked up my pace the last 100 yards to cross the finish line. I was tired, but it was worth it. I was happy. I felt like I had just done something very worthwhile with my Saturday morning. Maybe my time was not amazing, and maybe there were several people that beat me, but that didn't matter to me anymore. All that mattered at that point was that I stood up to something that is challenging for me. And I conquered it. Not only that, but I had people I love by my side while doing it. Now that is a great feeling. I got a t-shirt for participating, and I wore it the rest of the day. I was a proud, little distance runner.

Something I am proud of in the last few days: Doing things I know I am not going to win at, but still giving it my best shot.

It was my longest race and his first race EVER :). He is awesome.