Sister, Sister

I’ve only got one thing on my mind this week, so I don’t really have a choice about what I write about; it’s got to be my sister, Karen. I have four sisters, and I love each of them dearly and equally, but it just so happens KareBear and I spent the past week together. We’ve been best friends our whole lives (she’s about two years older than I am) and I don’t know who I would be without her. In just a few days she will be moving to Colorado and I don’t actually know for sure when we will be together again (besides when I drop her off at the airport)—it could be anywhere from one to six months.

The longest we have been apart is a few months, and then we knew we were only two and half hours away. So, we’re not exactly prepared for this. On the other hand, we do get along better when we are separated. For example, I call her on a regular basis just to say I wish she was here, just to go for a walk or watch a movie, or sit and do nothing with—just to be in each other’s presence. But last week, when she was home with me, we wasted a lot of the time fighting. It was mostly me, because she’s very non-confrontational and gentle in literally every way, while I have a short temper and little patience. She’s always picking out clothes for me to try and insisting I borrow a shirt of hers here and there…but if she would take any clothes from my closet (which, ahem, she did), I would say something like, “I didn’t buy it to supply it. Go change right now!” and hold that against her for the rest of the day. So, you know, maybe it’s best we stick to phone calls and short visits…

Seriously though, I love my sister more than anything. Taylor Swift has a song dedicated to her family, and she describes her little brother the same way I would describe KB: “Inside and out [s]he’s better than I am.” She’s got that refreshing simplicity, pure kindness, and a heart so big I don’t know how her little body can hold it. She’s never quick to judge and lights up any room she walks into. If you have a sister, you understand the bond that not even distance and time can weaken. So here’s to that unbreakable bond. Sisters are kind of the best, aren’t they? I know mine are.

Always, Anna

Youth Conference and Service

I don’t know how, but it’s already July. The first month of summer is over; one third of the entire summer is already gone. I just really can’t believe it. It’s absolutely mind boggling. Wow.

So far, the best part of my summer was last weekend. I was in Grand Forks Thursday through Sunday for my church’s youth conference. It was wonderful for so many reasons, and it went by way too quickly. I met a lot of new people and made a lot of friends. I played “Ultimate Frisbee” for the first time and made the winning point—nobody was more shocked than I was. I got to listen to some amazing speakers and learn valuable lessons, and I even helped lead a workshop, all while strengthening my faith. I think my favorite part, though, was the service project I got to participate in. My church (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints aka “Mormon”) is big on humanitarianism, and we have our own charities and service programs, so I was excited to see what we would be doing for this.

The conference was held on the Grand Forks Air Force Base. On Thursday, we were divided into groups of about six kids and two adult leaders. Each group was assigned to a different family in need. My group’s job was to do yard work for a young mother, whose husband had recently been deployed. We were to mow the lawn and clean out the garage. If only I could clean my room as quickly and thoroughly as I did that garage! By the time we had finished all we could do outside, sweeping sidewalks and pulling weeds, we still had over an hour left of the time set aside for our service project. We asked if we could help with anything inside. We cleaned the main floor of the house: dish washing, vacuuming, dusting, etc. The mother had her car washed for free by some of our other youth during this time as well.

After we had done all we could do, we talked with her for a bit. She was in her early twenties but had already had several miscarriages. I could not believe how strong this woman was to be raising her three-year-old daughter all alone while her husband was away for months at a time. For a moment, I got to see into the life of a military wife and a temporarily single mother. I can’t imagine living that life, and all women in that situation completely have my utmost respect. To help her was an honor, really. In fact, to help someone, asking for nothing in return, was refreshing and rewarding. Charity is interesting in that way. I always feel like I am the one getting the more out of a service project than those I am actually helping! I only regret that I haven’t done more of this in my life so far. I am determined to be more selfless from now on, giving more and asking for less. In the end, I’m convinced I’ll actually be receiving much, much more.

Always, Anna

Favorites

     I don't know if I'm one of those people who doesn't have favorites, or if it's just that I have a lot of them. Surveys and "get-to-know-you" questions seriously stress me out. What should be the simplest questions are always the hardest for me. Favorite movie, favorite quote, favorite food, favorite color, favorite word, favorite book, favorite song? I never have just one favorite of anything. Literally. 

      I have about five movies that are all my "Number One Favorite Movie of All Time" somehow. When the yearbook staff asked me for my favorite quote, I crammed in two or three because I couldn't decide. Whenever someone asks me my favorite food, I try to think of the last thing I ate and usually go with "cereal," which is fine because I do love a good bowl of Raisin Bran no matter what time it is. Nutritious and delicious, that bran is good and good for you. Forget about Hostess, THAT's the stuff. But that's beside the point. My favorite color used to be purple, no questions asked...until Taylor Swift released an album called "Red", I got an amazing red dress, and I wore red lipstick for the first time. So I no longer have just one favorite color either! My favorite word had been "phalanges" (say it out loud--rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?) since seventh grade health class, but then I discovered "whirligig" and now I've got another favorite dilemma. Don't even get me started on favorite books, because I have never read a book I didn't love and proclaim as my favorite upon completion.

      The internet told me there are over 97 million songs in the world, and I'm supposed to have one favorite? I have a few classic favorites, and I think at one point I decided "Wouldn't It Be Nice" by The Beach Boys was the best song in the world. I go through phases with  favorite songs of the month or week though. This week, I entered a new phase. An "Re: Stacks" by Bon Iver phase, to be specific. You can always tell when I have found a new favorite song, because I will only listen to that one song, repeatedly, day after day, for anywhere from a week to three months. My sister Karen used to get so mad at me for this. Sorry, Karen, but nothing has changed except the song. If you're not around me to hear it, I'll make sure you listen to it on your own. I can work it into any conversation, and I won't leave you alone until I know you have listened to it. I'll text it to you, send you the link to the video for it, post it on Facebook, or even go to the length of writing a column about it, evidently!

      Seriously though, this is one of those songs you can listen to any time. It's always appropriate because it's so chill. I played it for Lucy at work when I was explaining to her what it meant to have someone "harsh my mellow." This song returns that mellow even after it has been harshed, just for the record. I have fallen asleep to it every night and woken up to it every day of this week. If we have spoken at all within the past seven days, I can guarantee I've told you to listen to it. It's just a nice song, from every angle. It's wonderful. And you should totally listen to it, because if you have an ear or two, I think there's a good chance you would like it.

      Always, Anna

P.S. Here's the link to the song..enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePatJIwB-sI

Cleaning My Room...?

     I have an issue with wasting beautiful days. So far this summer, I've been really blessed with work on the days it’s been drizzly or windy out, and been free on the sunnier days. Today I happened to have a day off on what was probably one of the nicest days of the summer so far. I haven’t been outside once. I cringed with my own disapproval and disappointment at that sad confession as I typed it, but I really have not been. Literally, I have not taken one step outside on this beautiful day of sun and warmth and singing birds.
I have no good excuse, but I did have good intentions. This was me trying to be disciplinary. You see, my room has reached a new level of atrocity. I’m really not a messy person, honestly. I thrive on organization. All my “stuff” is pretty neatly stored or displayed; it’s the clothes that get me. I have three laundry baskets just for myself, but when I get dressed, I tend to just drop my clothes on the floor. This started as a bad habit I would only exhibit when in a hurry. I would promise to sort the clothes later, when I wasn't so rushed. Over time, it’s grown worse and worse. I recently rearranged my room by pushing my bed up against the wall by my window, so as to have more floor space. I have a very beautiful wooden floor, so I was glad when I could actually see it! In its current state, my floor could be carpeted as far as anybody else could tell. I try to clean my room regularly, but somewhere in between the pick-ups and laundry days, my large floor space becomes inundated with my wardrobe. It’s a problem.
     That being said, I had previously decided to dedicate this entire day to finally taking care of the issue that is my bedroom. I was going to sort all the strewn articles of clothing, do as many loads of laundry as I needed to, and do all my other cleaning maintenance. I woke up this morning telling myself I couldn't go do anything outside until my room was completely clean. I started my day off right with the breakfast of champions, for encouragement: waffles with banana slices and raspberry syrup. I really don’t know what happened between then and now—yes I do, the internet—but the sun is nearly setting at this point and my room is in the same appalling state it has been all week.
     When I shamefully went back downstairs after a few hours in my room, in which I napped, read, and watched Hunter Hayes’ live concert—which I think is a pretty good excuse, because, I mean, how often can you watch something like that live? I needed to know that he was singing those songs at the exact same time I was sitting in my messy room, not doing any form of cleaning. If I watched it after cleaning my room, it wouldn't be live anymore, and it just wouldn't be the same, ok. It just wouldn't be. Stop judging me. Anyways, I made my way downstairs for some dinner, and before my sister even asked me how my room was coming along, all I said was, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I told her I had accomplished more than she thinks today, like, I survived, which is a pretty big deal. I kept myself alive today by breathing and eating and drinking water. And now I've got this sweet little ramble off the checklist, so this day hasn't been completely unsuccessful. I hope you've been inspired by my lack of motivation and supreme laziness. I think I’ll go clean my room now. I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.
     Always, Anna