No Words: Parks and Recreation.

I recently watched

the first five seasons

of Parks and Recreation

in one long, glorious binge.

(No spoilers.

I need to catch up

on the most recent one.)

There are no words to describe

how much I love it.

If you could combine

the love I feel

for my three or four closest friends,

that's how much I love

every character on that show.

I have shed actual tears

four or five times

because I was so moved.

The first time

was on Ron's birthday.

My heart would be so happy

if I could move to Pawnee

and be friends with those people.

I love when the corners of April's mouth

can't help but turn up.

I love how much Donna loves her Benz.

I want to be 

a watered-down version of Leslie:

always giving the best gifts,

celebrating obscure anniversaries,

and loving Joe Biden.

I love when Ron rolls his eyes

and smiles behind his moustache.

I love every word of wisdom

Ron has ever distilled.

Mostly, there are no words to describe

how much I love Ron Swanson.

I'm sorry,

but swoon.

How Love Works

Isn't is interesting

how love works?

The other day

I drove past someone I recently met,

whom I had barely even talked to,

but my heart literally leapt

because I guess I decided that I love him.

Sometimes I can't help but love people

because I love one of their siblings.

Sometimes I can't help but love people

because I love one of their roommates.

And I reserve the right

to hate every guy

that's ever broken up

with one of my friends--

just a little bit.

The fact that there isn't a good reason

for any of this

is what makes it so great.

  via

Dreams.

Since I recently realized

one of my dreams,

I started thinking

about what my other life dreams are.

-Make ketchup from scratch.

How come nobody does that?

-Participate in a rally/protest/march.

This is a necessity, given my love of the Sixties.

-Pretend to be someone's girlfriend for something.

They make it look really fun on tv.

And I think I'd be good at it.

-Eat 3 meals at 3 different restaurants 

in the same day.

That'd be sick, literally and figuratively.

-Karaoke/know all the words to 

"The Devil Went Down to Georgia."

I love rap and I love folk music.

Combining them was a pretty good idea 

that someone once had.

-Exercise until I puke.

Again, that'd be sick.

-Take engagement pictures here.

That's a 10-foot-tall plush nature scene

tucked behind a stairwell at UVU.

Saying the Same Thing.

Since we all use the internet,

we probably all see internet behaviors

that annoy us.

My roommates know me

as someone who gets annoyed

by many internet behaviors.

Maybe more than average.

They're right.

What I hate most

is things that go viral.

I hate when everyone

is talking

and posting

and watching

the same thing.

I guess it's the hipster in me.

The minute something is trending,

I don't care about it.

And I get irritated

that everyone else does.

I refuse to post

about it,

even if I believe in the cause.

But think about it.

The internet is amazing.

You can say anything

at anytime

and know that someone will see it.

Compared to every other age of history

we have staggering power of self-expression.

And every man and woman

has the choice

about what he or she will choose to say

with that power.

I just wonder why

everyone would choose

to say the same thing

when they know that everyone else

is already saying it.

Like on every holiday,

when everyone posts

"Happy valentines day!!!"

Why put that into the world

when it doesn't exhibit

any creativity

or any spark of your personality

or what makes you special?

I guess people are just saying

what they feel,

what they think is important.

They're sharing what touched them

and what they would like other people to see.

And I guess

in a lot of ways

we are all the same.

We think the same things

are important,

we're touched by the same things,

and we want other people to see

the same things

that those people want us to see.

Not everyone prioritizes

being witty

and original

and making people laugh

the way I do.

I probably prioritize it too highly.

But I have to wonder,

if we've got so much power

to express ourselves,

why are we all saying the same thing?

Springtime.

There are people driving around town

in convertibles.

On principle,

they look happier than other people.

Some front lawns have become

fields of dandelions

and I want to lay right down

and roll in them.

The other day,

I walked past a man mowing his lawn.

And not until I saw him

did I realize how long it'd been

since I heard

the buzz of the engine

and the smell of the clippings.

That sound and that smell

make the loveliest combination.

I cried.

I have my first bug bite

of the year.

It itches.

At this very moment,

I'm sitting in my front yard.

Two pair of quail

just scuttled past,

not ten feet away from me.

I can only imagine they're on

a Saturday afternoon

double date.

It's springtime.

I really don't know
what else to say.

The Happy Pig.

Today at Katie's birthday party,

I suggested that we go around

and tell our favorite memories of her.

I told a silly story

about her as a three-year-old.

But on my way home,

I started thinking.

What good memory

of my teenage years

doesn't have Katie in it?

Katie is

the first time I learned to sing alto

by sitting next to her in choir.

Katie is

the courage to actually dance

at dances.

Katie is

leaving intricately folded notes

in each other's lockers.

Katie is

mix cds.

Katie is

making her collages

because I loved her so much.

Katie is

watching Project Runway at her house.

Katie is

trying new recipes

that don't work out

because we substitute too many ingredients.

Katie is

making movies in her backyard

about trees named Landon.

Katie is

dancing crazy in her bedroom

while the rest of my classmates

are at Homecoming.

Katie is

a text message on my first day

of college

from her in Delaware.

And,

ever and always,

Katie is singing camp songs,

wearing pioneer dresses,

playing Big Booty,

and being the most positive one

in every adventure.

Hiking for days

without one complaint

leaving her lips.

The one who makes you want

to be the you

that you want to be.

Katie is

The Happy Pig.

And without her,

I wouldn't have been

nearly as happy

as I was.

The Time I Was on TV.

I got to sing in a choir 

that was on international television!

That's my shoulder in the second row from the top!

It was a dream come true

to sing in that room

that seats 21,000,

accompanied by that organ,

for leaders of

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

who are literal prophets.

An entry on my bucket list

that I never dreamed could really happen. 

If you missed seeing me,

it's not too late!

.

.

.

This song is about God's pure gospel

being restored to the earth

for our times,

after centuries of spiritual confusion.

To me,

this song is about 

the joy of being a Christian

in today's world.

In a world where believing in Jesus Christ

doesn't make sense, 

believing in Him is the only thing 

that allows life to make sense.

Look for me at the top of the shot at 1:15 and again at 2:10!

Things That Made Me Cry Today, Part 2.

The thought

and imminent possibility 

of going fishing

for the first time

in my life.

Walking into a room

and seeing a table

filled with gorgeous food

(including petit fours),

all of which

I'm allowed to eat

in whatever quantity

I desire.

Listening to 

Miracles Happen

from The Princess Diaries

and remembering

when Jenn taught me to roller blade

in her basement.

Things That Made Me Cry Today, Part 1

Everything the light touched was my kingdom.

Early this evening,

I went running

as the day's rain was drying up

and the sun was just beginning

its initial descent,

just barely leaning toward the horizon.

I had run 4 miles

and just as I crested the last hill--

after which the road leading home

sloped sweetly downward the rest of the way--

a cloud jumped out of the way

and there was the brilliant sun.

And just then

one of my favorite songs

flared up into a reprise of the chorus,

and my feet pushed off hard

from the pavement

with each unrelenting beat.

I felt like a queen.

Like Simba.

Everything the light touched

was my kingdom.

I surveyed the miles and miles

of green and brown

laid out in the valley below me,

only rarely interrupted,

it seemed,

by some house or building.

My legs flew below me

without my making any effort.

I peeked back

as I rounded a corner,

and up from the south,

wide and evil behind me,

a mass of black rain clouds

pushed their way toward the sun.

It was a metaphor for Good and Evil

playing out in the sky.

And I knew that Good would win

and I would win.

A picture of my kingdom

from another day.