Why am I enjoying finals?

I made it a goal to have a fun finals week.  I know... a total oxymoron right!  But I did it, I succeeded. And I have to say that I am thoroughly pleased with the week I made for myself.

Here's the key.  Just kidding, there isn't a key.  You just need to be positive. Have fun study breaks.  Plan out your week so you know when you're studying and when you're done (but leave a little wiggle room).  Call up old friends.

This goes for more than just finals week.  It's for life.  I have to plan out what I'm doing.  Know when you're going to bed, when you're waking up, and what you're doing each day.  Not having a schedule is bad  not productive.  Also, get enough sleep.  I need a solid seven hours.  But if I get too much sleep then I am tired the next day and can't get out of bed (I think that's normal but I'm not sure).

Now that you know my sleep schedule, I'll tell you what to do for a solid study break.  Go to the temple, go for a walk, buy a gift for someone, write a letter, clean out your email, find a good book, cook yummy food, exercise, go to a sporting event (I like baseball), watch mindless t.v. (or something educational.  you pick).  When I am hitting a wall and at my wit's end, I call an old friend I haven't talked to for a while.  It is my favorite pastime I think.

But before you do any of these things, I need to earn it! You need to work hard in order to play hard (refer to my previous blog post about how to do that if you are confused).

In life, we need breaks!  But only when we work hard for them.  And we need other people in order to keep our sanity.  I think that's the point of this pointless post.

Here's a pretty picture, because we all need some annual weekly daily hourly inspiration.

Be serious; but never take yourself too seriously

"Life is not only meant to be endured, but to be enjoyed."

President Gordon B. Hinckley said that.  He knew how to be professional, somber, and thoughtful without eliminating all sense of humor.

I mean... it will be a sad and dark day when we forget to laugh and enjoy life.  I realized this as I walked to class the other day.  I pulled an "ella" and slipped and fell.  This wasn't a small trip.  It was a wipe out.  Sure, I could have blushed and cried as my economics book flew to the ground and my butt slammed so hard I'm pretty sure it shook the snow off the trees next to me.  I was in a crowd of people, but I didn't know a single person.  I popped up and, embarrassingly, said, "Wow.  Careful right there, it's slippery."  Lots of people were staring at me, and I'm fairly certain my dress was caught up in my backpack (revealing my awesome back shot).  But, WHATEVER!  I don't know these people, and if nothing else, I brought a smile to their faces.

Heaven knows I brought a smile to my own.

And here's just a few of the many people that taught me to laugh when I fall (seriously there's just so many.  But no way do I have a picture with or of all of them).

I wish you could tag someone on blogspot...

Thank you, Kathleen Kelly

And yet again Kathleen Kelly puts things back into perspective for me.

You know it's bad when you can't remember the last non-academic book you picked up, or when you last went on a leisurely walk for fun rather than for a work out.  I found myself wondering this and having horrible answers to both of these questions.  Why?  I'll tell you when: Blacklist, Sherlock, and Veronica Mars.  That is the sequential order in which I finished catching up on three T.V. shows, totally about 7 seasons worth of T.V. in all (is there something to be said about me in that they are all crime dramas?).

That's not good.  Nor is the fact that my good friend Kathleen Kelly, whom I always have on hand (thank you iTunes) has once again put me back in my place.  Here's the line folks.

So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?

And that is what I find myself thinking now.  I need to get back out there!  Sure I'm swamped with school work and student government and callings, but that's no excuse to glue my ___ to the couch and drown my head in crime drama (by the way, I ordered a taser off of Amazon yesterday.  I think this is because Blacklist, Sherlock, and Veronica Mars are getting to me).

Don't worry, I'm not too attached to these things.  But I realize that these past two weeks they have kept me from experiencing my own adventures.  When I die, I don't want to look back and think about all of the episodes I got to watch of some character's fictitious life!  Not to say that T.V. isn't sometimes needed.  We all need a little unwinding every now and again (insert winky face here).

In order to get back in gear, I saw the Carl Bloch exhibit (again) which is always inspiring, and took my geography professor's advice and went outside.  So thank you Kathleen, for reminding me to get off of Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime.  I swear they are all the death of college students and their grades.

moral of my boring story

to get you thinking/moving

my favorite art piece at the exhibit.  Agony in the Garden by Frans Schwartz.

The Art of Travel

There is something about deserts that makes you think.  Perhaps it is their vast emptiness that allows for clarity and perspective.  The stretching landscape reveals everything and is exposed to all eyes; whereas a first is deep and mysterious, perfect for secrets.

I say this because I am currently driving from California to Salt Lake and we just passed Barstow (my dad calls it the armpit of America).  That means we have a lot of driving time left, and a lot of desert to cover.  I find myself staring out the window at the cracked earth and scattered shrubs, and for some reason it pulls my mind into thinking.  This is what always happens.

So here's what I'm thinking about... (drum roll please)



What is art?  What standards must be achieved to classify something as art?  I believe that art is a way to become immortalized.  Whatever that may be...

So how does one make traveling through life a work of art?  Our lives are not made out of our shining, fleeting moments of success or pleasure; but rather our daily journeys that at times seem monotonous and unimportant.  Journeys to Costco, class, appointments, work, etc.  The daily routine that eventually makes up an entire lifetime.

It is how we react in these everyday situations that creates an artful life.  It is how you view these dull activities that fabricate a lifestyle.  I see that if you go through life not caring about which crowd you are in or what your label is, you will find yourself surrounded by loved ones and happy beyond measure.  If your ignorant judgement of others does not decide how you will act, life can be brilliant.

Speaking to those who travel abroad: international or extended travel reminds us of our own insignificance.  It makes our own petty worries shrink and our eyes focus on a grander picture.  It can open minds to new ideas, give a better picture of what we want out of life, and show how blessed we are.

To all: our daily journeys to the supermarket are even more important than world-wide travel.  President Hinckley once said, "The gates of heaven swing on small hinges."  It's the little things that count, beginning with how we view others.  Seeing them as equal in worth is key.  When you see them as inferior, pride leads you to become angry, irritated, or indifferent toward them.  When superior, you feel self-conscious and not confident.  And believe me, people can tell the way you view them.

The art of travel is simply a way of saying "how to go through life and achieve the greatest amount of true joy possible."