True Story Girl.

This is Megan.

With her cute fiance, Eric.

As you can tell from this picture alone,

she's basically an angel.

When I think about her,

there's a smile on my lips,

a kind word on

the tip of my tongue,

and a squeal in my throat

all fighting to get out

at once.

When I think about what I like about her,

words don't exactly come to mind,

just a lot of exclamation points.

Megan goes on adventures

to Uganda and Washington, D.C.

She wears chevrons

and the prettiest earrings.

She always introduces herself to people

and makes them her friends.

She loves cheesy chick flicks,

which looks so charming on her.

And maybe most of all,

she makes me feel

like one of the most special,

most interesting,

most worthwhile people around

because she wants to be my friend.

She's the Jam.

This is Julianna.

That's jew-lee-ann-uh,

not

jew-lee-on-uh.

She's my sister-in-law.

Before her,

I didn't have anything-in-law.

I like her because

she says it like it is.

She'll add to the conversation

the very thing that makes sense

or needs to be said.

I love how much she cares about

the things she cares about.

Like animals

and Miyazaki.

Also, she's pretty

(duh)

and I like her Delaware accent.

But even if there weren't all these reasons,

I'd still love her.

Because she loves my brother

and my brother loves her.

And she belongs.

And it makes sense.

And it feels right.

Because she's the jam.

Immunizations.

For grad school,

I needed to send in

some immunization dates,

so my mom emailed me

my immunization record.

For some reason,

I was struck by all those dates.

5-17-91

7-9-91

10-2-91

6-17-92

10-21-92

4-29-96

8/99

9/99

3/00

I thought about my mom

and all the times

she put me in my car seat

and took me to the doctor

to get shots,

even though

I very well may have cried,

or maybe it was frustrating

to pack the other siblings

in the car

and haul all of us

to Dr. Estock's.

And I suddenly felt like

taking your kids to get shots

is the essence of motherhood.

I was too little to know

that I needed a measles vaccination,

but she knew.

Without my mom,

I'd probably have rubella right now.

Eve.

There is a tremendous nobility to Eve,

the first woman on this earth.

I. God "formed man

from the dust of the ground"

(Genesis 2:7).

But He did not form woman

from dust.

He formed her

from the best thing

He had made thus far--

from man.

II. God made woman

as "an help meet" for Adam

(Genesis 2:18).

Meet means proper, suitable.

In Mormon doctrine,

we believe that Adam is Michael,

the archangel 

(Revelation 12:7; Daniel 12:1),

who helped create the earth.

What kind of companion

would be suitable for

one so glorious?

A baby?

A weak and timid creature?

A lesser version of Adam himself,

without the same power

of reasoning

and judgment?

No.

A complementary partner,

with as much power as he.

Only such a companion

would be meet for him.

III. She was beguiled

only insofar as she believed a lie

that Satan told her--

that if she ate the fruit,

she would not surely die.

But she knew it would make her wise,

and so she wanted to eat it,

no matter the cost

(Genesis 3:6).

She was not beguiled in that.

IV. Her name was Eve,

a name that sounds like

a sigh of relief

when you speak it aloud.

Her name was Eve

because she was

the mother of all living

(Genesis 3:20).

Her creative power

was unparalleled--

the power to bring all of us

to life.

V. Latter-day Saints believe that

there are more scriptures

than just the Bible.

In the Book of Moses,

we hear Eve's voice.

Eve said,

"Were it not for our transgression

we never should have had seed,

and never should have known good and evil,

and the joy of our redemption,

and the eternal life

which God giveth

unto all the obedient"

(Moses 5:11).

She made the gravest error possible,

but she didn't have to be ashamed,

because her experience

made her more

than what she could have been before.

.

.

.

As a daughter of Eve,

I can't think of anyone better

to model myself after.

Adam & Eve, Brian Kershisnik

The Sun Stood Still.

Yesterday was the summer solstice.

Also known as

the greatest day of the entire year.

I said it,

and I'm not taking it back.

As I was watching the sun rise,

I said to myself,

Sunrises are so glorious.

I wouldn't be surprised

if a feat like this only happened

once a year!

But we get it every day.

I went down the rabbit hole

of Wikipedia

to learn what a solstice really is.

I read about declination

and the celestial equator

and the celestial sphere.

I couldn't quite grasp it.

But I realized,

There is more sunlight today

in which to do things

than in any other day.

This is the best

God has to give us.

So I took my roommate to the airport

to go to Africa,

and went to the temple

and a baby shower.

I snoozed on the couch pleasantly.

Genevieve and I made flower crowns.

Isn't hers a masterpiece?

Erin and I went to Rita's

and I fell asleep reading Dandelion Wine,

the official novel of summertime.

This year, also,

I gathered seven different flowers

and slept with them under my pillow

to see if I would dream of my future husband.

Last year I faked it

with some weed growing behind my apartment,

so this year I wanted to do it right.

And it worked.

I dreamt about not one,

but three boys.

One I like,

one I don't like,

and one that I haven't talked to

since high school.

So anything is possible.

Garden Tour.

Tonight, Genevieve and I

toured pretty yards

in Pleasant Grove.

She told me the names of plants

and sometimes

she could only remember the Latin ones.

I didn't mind.

One house had antiques

instead of flowers.

I told Genevieve

that house was for me.

The shadows and the late afternoon sun

were irresistible.

I felt like a queen,

surveying my kingdom.

They had the most perfect grass

I had ever seen.

It was the perfect activity.

The Person I Actually Want to Be.

Yesterday, I wrote about

who I would be

if I could be anyone.

But more sincerely,

the person I want to be

is a combination of these two pictures.

"An Austrian boy 

couldn't be more excited about

his first pair of shoes in years (1946)"

"I’m a tour guide."

"What’s your greatest strength as a guide?"

"Have you ever seen the movie Kate and Leopold?"

"I can’t say I have."

"Well, it’s no masterpiece. 

But there’s this one scene

when Hugh Jackman goes back in time,

and he witnesses the opening

of the Brooklyn Bridge. 

Then he’s transported back to present day,

and he sees the bridge is still standing,

and he shouts: ‘It’s a miracle!’

And a nearby hot dog vendor says:

‘No it’s not, it’s a bridge.’

So what I’m trying to say is,

I’m Hugh Jackman.

And not the hot dog vendor."

The Person I Want to Be.

One day,

Alyssa and I started talking about

what we would dress like

if we were boys.

(I have a pretty specific answer
to that question,
even down to the color of pants
I would wear.)

But then I thought
I don't always dress to my ideal
as a woman.
What makes me think I would
if I were a man?

And then I thought about how

we're not always the people
we exactly want to be.

And I thought

if I could be anyone...

I'd be left handed.

I would wear high heels more often.

I'd try new things

without feeling hesitant beforehand.

I'd play tennis regularly

and occasionally enjoy

a round of golf.

I'd know how to whistle

and play the harmonica
and feel comfortable driving a manual.

And I'd have a radio voice.

via

West on I-80.

This week,

my dad and I drove

across the country together.

Sixteen-hour days

of flying down I-80

at 75 miles an hour,

passing trucks

that lumbered along

like great ships crossing the ocean.

I was worried

that I would hate

Nebraska and Wyoming and Iowa.

But I should have known better.

I loved every minute of it.

We started west through Pennsylvania,

which was a lush jungle.

We drove through tunnels

that cut through hills.

We shared the street with Amish buggies.

And we got to slip through

a tiny piece of West Virginia,

which pleased me.

In Ohio,

we drove in and around and through

a little town called Barnesville

at 10:30 pm,

where all the lights were off

in all the houses.

We passed row houses

on the outskirts of a city

that reminded me of where

Rudy Ruettiger

might have grown up.

In Indiana,

I thought about Pawnee and Eagleton.

We skirted around Indianapolis,

where there were signs for the Speedway.

We happened to stop for gas in Illinois

in the town that was the site of

the Lincoln Douglas debates

and Carl Sandburg's birthplace.

And I was thrilled.

We ended up driving through

the University of Iowa campus,

and it was everything that a college campus

should be.

My new dream is to get a PhD there.

The rest stops in Nebraska

were gorgeous,

with little pools of the bluest blue water

lying next to them,

and the ceaseless gales

blowing over the prairie.

It wasn't boring for one second,

even when the landscape grew harsher

as we pushed west.

Then I fell in love

with southeastern Wyoming.

We stopped at the rest stop

at the highest elevation on I-80,

where there's a 13-foot bronze

Abraham Lincoln head

towering over the highway.

There he is.

The clouds were misting around us

and the wind was whipping

and it was cold

and we were up

nearly in the sky.

The rest of Wyoming

twisted and turned,

until we hit Utah,

where I made my way carefully

through the Rockies

in the dark,

blinded by the light of train locomotives.

And on the other side of the mountains

burst forth I-15

and the endless towns and cities

and cars and people.

And here I am again.

I can't even.

As I said,

ma sister just got married!

My only sister.

My boon companion.

When she got engaged,

I posted a status:

Congratulations to my sister

on her engagement.

I'm glad you found someone

that you want to spend

the rest of your life with

besides me.

Only part of that is a joke.

She has always been the one

who always wants to dress alike

who always wants to share a bed

who always wants us to touch foreheads

like Heinrich Harrer

and the Dalai Lama do

in Seven Years in Tibet.

When I saw these two pictures

from her bridal shower,

I just thought,

"I can't even."

And that's all there is to say about

how I feel about her.

Wedding Reception (Part II)

Yesterday,

my only sister got married.

Today,

we had her reception.

I wish you could have seen my mother.

She floated through the church,

distilling directions,

every detail carried out

under her watchful eye,

creating a palace of tea cups

and baby's breath

and lace.

Before there was Pinterest,

there was my mother.

I wish you could have seen my father.

He left before any of us were awake

and he's not back yet.

He did everything,

including rigging up a whole lighting concept

and building a tent

and teaching me how to release

the emergency break

on his car.

He danced to "My Girl" with Katie

and the swing dancing

he's done with us in the living room

all these years

finally got its big debut.

.
.
.

I love being an adult--

I've said it before.

But today made me think.

Someday, I'll have a daughter.

And it will be her wedding.

And I hope I have the poise

and the love

that my parents have.

There's being an adult,

and then there's being an adult

like my parents are.

Luckily, I have 30 years

to work on it.

The cake topper from my parents' wedding

at my sister's wedding today.

Read Wedding Reception Part I

The Fort.

By far the nicest thing

that I've done lately

is lay on the mattress

in the fort

that currently exists

in our living room,

the backs of the two couches

rising around me,

staring up at the sloping canopy of blankets

and the chili pepper lights

hanging from the ceiling,

down there on the floor

where the the air conditioning is so cold,

I can almost see it

swirling around me

like mist on a moor.

You don't have to do anything--

just lay there.

But it feels like quite a something.

Feast.

This one day last week

was a weird day for my stomach.

I was famished

but everything made me feel

like I was going to puke.

Fast forward to sitting on a front lawn

under the Big Dipper

in the cool of evening,

where we learned about

edible plants

growing right there

in that very grass.

I took a little bud

and unwrapped the leaves around it,

and ate it.

It wasn't that it tasted good,

but I loved it.

I loved that I picked it

and ate it

and it came right from the very earth

without being asked.

Then we shared a coconut.

We drank right out of it with straws.

I only took a few sips

because the best part of the experience

wasn't drinking it,

but sitting there

with the taste of it still on my lips

thinking about how happy I was

that I'd drunk out of a coconut.

I helped scoop out the flesh

and then we ate it.

We passed around one bowl

with one spoon

and ate it.

It was the greatest feast

I can imagine.