The Cliche Thanksgiving Post.

Although I am about being original, and doing your own thing, I do have to go along with the trend of these Thanksgiving blog posts. Because I do love writing things that I'm thankful for. Also, I haven't posted for a little while. So, although it's a little late, here you go.

I am thankful for:
(let's take this big long list and divide it into sub-categories, shall we?)

people (don't be offended if I forgot you. I can barely remember my own name these days)
my amazing, fantastic, wonderful, lovely mum.
the rest of my crazy family.
Melany.
Judy.
Harley.
Whitney.
the Man Band (nickname credit goes to Melany): Casey, Roman, Jenson and Mark.
Desiree.
Landry.
Kensley.
Becca.
Jessica.
Kaitlyn.
Keaton.
Carli.

and everyone else that my brain can't think of.

(I'm also thankful for Joseph Gorden-Levitt. Thank's for being so beautiful, you amazingly gorgeous man. Sorry. I have a slight celebrity crush on him)

I'm thankful for: Passion Pit, The White Stripes, Ed Sheeran, Regina Spektor, Coldplay, Noah and the Whale, Modest Mouse, Imagine Dragons, Two Door Cinema Club, M83, AWOLNATION, Ingrid Michaelson, Zooey Deschanel, The Temper Trap, The XX, and many many many more bands that are a part of my life.

I'm thankful for the challenges that I have in my life, because I learn from them and come out a better person.

I'm thankful for hugs.

I'm thankful for laughing my head off with my best friends, late night phone calls with them, and snapchat. I love snapchat.

I'm thankful for Disney, because it makes me such a better person and reminds me to believe in magic every day.

I'm thankful for Harry Potter, because it teaches me about friendship, trials, errors, and love. All tied together with magic.

I'm thankful for school. I'm lucky enough to be able to go for five days a week, and learn something every day.

I'm thankful for big sweaters and combat boots. My uniform. Also, I'm really thankful for the person who invented the sock bun. Whoever you are, I love you.

I'm thankful for whoever puts those hilarious photos on pinterest. And I'm thankful for pinterest.

I'm thankful for my beautiful town. I live in a little slice of heaven that was put on this earth.

I'm thankful for sunsets, and sunrises.

I'm thankful for my church and the gospel. I love my religion more than anything.

I'm thankful for cat videos on Youtube.

I'm thankful for mascara and my curling wand.

I'm thankful for comfy slippers and footie pajamas.

I'm thankful for my talents that I have, and for the talents of others around me.

I'm thankful for this blog, and for all my readers who take time out of their day to read about my life.

Now, we can turn on Christmas music and not feel guilty for cheating on Thanksgiving =)


now for your cheesy quote fix of the day:

The Emily Approach

Have you ever met anyone that is just all-around happy? Someone that always has a smile on their face and a compliment on their lips. Someone who can make the worst situation the best. I know a few.

I'm very lucky to have tons of amazing role models in my ward and neighborhood, but today I'm going to talk about a specific lady in my life.

You guessed it: Emily.

Emily is by far the happiest person I know. She's always bouncing around, beaming like a little kid on Christmas morning. And when you're around her, you can't help but be happy also. It's a domino effect.

You're probably thinking, "Yeah. She's happy. Big whoop." But seriously. She's not just happy, she's delighted. She's chipper. She is gleeful.

Here's an example:

Once, she was over at my house talking to my mom. My mom was telling her about the laundry room renovations she was planning on doing someday. After she was done describing her plans, Emily looked at her with a huge grin and said,

"I just love knocking down walls. And renovating. And picking out paint colors. I love getting messy! It's just so fun!"

Who loves knocking down stuff?! Emily does.

And I just love that whenever anyone is around her, they can't frown. She's too light and cheerful. And I absolutely love that. I love that she gets excited about anything, big or small. So I've hatched a plan.

I'm calling it, The Emily Approach.

In this particular plan (which I have already been doing for a day and will report on in a minute) I will be striving to be like Emily. I will try to be happy about everything, and take lessons away from everything. I will try to be clean in what I expose myself to. I am going to smile all day. I am going to be grateful for what I have and try not to ask for unnecessary things.

So I'd like to report day one:

I thought of this plan the night before, so I woke up feeling ready to be happy! This was on Saturday. I got out of my bed and came upstairs to find the world covered in a beautiful blanket of snow. I was already excited about that. I do love snow. And then my mom said we were going to the mall. To look for mattresses. Not so excited about this one, but I did want to get out of the house, so I got dressed and off we drove. I got carsick on the way there, but I did not throw up! I was happy about that! But my happiness was tested on the car ride, where I learned that when we go to Florida, we're probably not going to Disney World, because we can't afford it.

I'll admit. I shed a few tears. Disney is my complete life and that was the part that I was looking forward to the most. I felt bad for myself. And I knew this is where my plan was going to have to save me. So I quickly dried my eyes, and thought about how I was lucky to even go on a vacation. I can go to the beach, or swim in the pool and I still get to go to Harry Potter World. I had no room to complain. None at all. And I'm only fifteen, I still have plenty of time to go to Disney World. It'll all be okay.

The next time my happiness was tested was at Macy's. I saw this sweater. This beautiful sweater. But then I reminded myself that I wasn't going to ask for anything. Because I am grateful for what I have. So I took a deep breath, pulled my own sweater that I was wearing around me tighter, and walked away.

Soon, my mom and grandma were busy in their own little world of shopping, and I was determined not to ask for anything. Not one little thing. I have enough clothes, and I don't need anymore. But it got really hard with my mom and grandma showing me all these items, so I decided to walk around the mall by myself just for fun.

This part was hard too. I got a lot of weird looks. What teenage girl goes shopping by herself? A loser? A loner? Does she smell bad? The answer is no. So whenever I was met with a weird look, I returned it with a smile, which got me an even weirder look.

And after walking around for a while, I finally went home, exhausted from my day of being happy.

Stay tuned to see how this works out.


and just for kicks:

write something.

let's give a hand to Pinterest for inspiring me to blog this weekend.

found this and decided to write.

Here's the 411 (what the heck does that mean? 411? It makes no sense.) in English, we had to write about our names, how we got our names, what they mean to us, etc. And I was really proud of mine. But, I really really hate sharing my work in front of the class, because everyone else in there is like Shakespeare. Their words are so much more beautiful than mine, and I am so jealous of all of their writing abilities. Seriously. Whenever they share something, I just want to cry from the beauty of it all. Their words hold so much meaning and loveliness. It blows my mind. It's totally crazy how these sophomores can write such beautiful things. I gotta stop ranting about this, but I wish you could just read their pieces of writing. Then you'd understand.

So in class I basically feel like a cavewoman compared to Einstein. And that is why I never share anything in class. But I have been forcing myself too. I need to get over that uncomfortable-ness that I feel when I share what I write. It's not the actual sharing, it's the content.

Here's an example: I write, "I walked to the red door."

They write: "Completely breathless, I ran to the red door. The red reminded me of warmth, and love that I once had known, but was lost now."

So I refrained from sharing my name memoir to the class, although I was really really proud of it. So I'm sharing it here, where I'm not compared to anyone, where no one is forced to listen to me, and where I am completely comfortable and in my element. Here we go.


Emmari. It's a fancy name, meant for someone sophisticated. I, am not sophisticated. My name feels too big for me, like a a hand me down sweater.

My mom once told me that Emmari mean "wonderful." But to teachers, classmates and random people on the street, it means "name that I can't pronounce."

Emmie seems a little more comfortable, smaller shoes to fill. Emmie is my every day name, one that everyone knows me by. It's the name on the top of my assignments, on the roll call, or doodled all over my notebook.

I love my name. On the first day of school, I'm always the one the teachers remember.

I didn't always like my name. When I was little, I would beg my parents to change it. I would try to get them to call me a different name. Like Jules. Yes, out of any name I chose Jules. One night, I was crying because I  hated my name so much, and my mom came up with the nickname Mia. Emmari, Mia. It kinda made sense. But it lasted a whole two seconds before she called me Emmie again.

A lot of people call me something different. My little sister calls me Ommie. My old orthodontist called me Mari. (I still have no idea how she got that out of Emmie. Maybe EmMARI? I don't know)

I basically have three different names. On my learner's permit and other documents, I'm Emmeri. On my church records, and when I'm in trouble, I'm called Emmari (my mom decided to change the spelling of my name right after she wrote it on my birth certificate. Now I have to go through all these stupid steps to replace the e with an a. ugh). And my every day name is Emmie. The one that people know me by.

Maybe one day I'll become sophisticated and fill the big shoes of Emmari, but for now, Emmie is just fine.

Talented.

Ever since I started High School, I've been uber tired and just plain lazy. I've just been dead to the world. I go to school, do homework and eat. That's all my day consists of. I don't even blog after school anymore. I draft it at school, during computer tech. And my mom has been getting on my case about doing nothing. She's been telling me to find something that I want to do, and she'll put me in lessons. But I don't want to do anything. And I'm not particularly good at anything. I'm just kind of average all around.

I can ski on blue hills, I can sing fairly simple songs and I can talk to people with no problems. But I need something that I'm exceptional at. So I've come up with a list of my many talents. Here we go.

1. I can eat two boxes of Tostinos Pizza rolls in one sitting.

2. I can pee faster than anyone that I know.

3. I am an excellent procrastinator.

4. I've mastered the art of being able to fall asleep anywhere. 

5. I can put my hair in a messy bun in 10 seconds.

#lazygirlprobs

Bountiful Dictionary.

Today, I'm going to teach you an important lesson, one that you must know if you are not from my town and are reading my blog. I have a dictionary full of words (and how to pronounce them) for you to understand what I'm always talking about. I've gotten some emails asking what the heck am I saying, and I am here to help you!

Before we start with this dictionary, you have to know that you can't say your T's. For example: Mountain. If you're from Utah, you must pronounce it Mounain. No t. This applies to almost every word you can think of.

VL, noun: (Short for Virgin Lips) When a teenager in Bountiful has not kissed anyone besides a family member. When you kiss someone, you "lose" your VL (there's even a club. with T shirts).

Shoot, verb: A replacement for the popular cuss word. You can also use Shiz if you want to walk on the wild side, or the most commonly used, Crap.

Baller, adj: When something is awesome. Ex: Those shoes are baller! Seminary is baller!

RM, adjective: Returned Missionary, a spouse/boyfriend preferred by most Mormon Girls.

The Vard, noun: Bountiful Boulevard, a place where teenagers park their cars, blast music, and party on summer/warm nights. Partying can also occur during the fall.

The B, noun: A giant letter on our Mountain that symbolizes Bountiful High. A great view if you drive up there, and also a makeout spot.

Friday Night Lights, noun: Football games, reference to a popular TV show.

Keva, noun: A smoothie place located near BHS, where the drinks are delicious and you can get a slice of bread next door for 50 cents.

Rite Aide, noun: A store which every teen in Bountiful has been kicked out of.

Snow Days, noun: Don't exist. You go to school if there is five feet of snow on the ground. Case closed.

Skiing, noun: Almost everyone in Bountiful is an expert at it. We can teach you how to ski backwards.

The Holy War, noun: The annual football game between BYU and UofU. Utah is divided, with the occasional Utah State straggler.

The Spiral, noun: A spiral staircase at Bountiful High, where you make out.

True Brave, noun: You can achieve this status by either: a, running around the track naked, or b, kissing on the spiral. If you do both, then you are a Chief.

 WX vs BHS: a football game that everyone looks forward to, because BHS has beat WX for over 20 years straight. (if we lose tonight, just know that this was written before the game)

Seminary: an hour and a half nap.

Snowpants: an article of clothing that everyone has in their closets.

AN IMPORTANT PRONUNCIATION ANNOUNCEMENT: You must pronounce your B's like P's. Example: Jacop.

I hope I have helped you understand my life and my Bountiful slang.

a few of my favorite things.

Here is a post dedicated to sharing my favorite youtube videos that I've found these past few weeks. So here you go.

This is just possibly the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

The first time I saw this (last night) I fell off of my chair laughing.

I don't think you can watch this without smiling or laughing.

I am a butterfly.

I am a butterfly. I am free. I am beautiful. I fly. I come and go, just as shadows and stars do. You can't tie me down. I am like the wind. I am innocent and pure.

Let's start at the beginning of this journey, shall we?

When I started seventh grade, my self esteem and self worth were at rock bottom. I was awkward. I was sad. I felt so alone. I was friendless, because I was shy. And when I did talk to people, my negativity drove them away. I think that I was so depressed because my main goal was to be "popular." I thought that the life of expensive clothes, cell phones, boyfriends and Jr. High parties seemed amazing. I was so jealous of that one girl that all the guys liked. The one that wore all the new Anthropologie items, while I was shopping at TJ Maxx and Ross. I pushed my quirks aside and tried to shove myself into this "popular girl" mold, which my body didn't fit. But, when I started hanging out with the "popular" kids, I thought I was happy. But now looking back, I see an uphappy little girl trying so hard to please people that didn't even really like her, or want to be her friend. 

This is how I ended seventh grade. "Popular." And it didn't feel as good as I thought it would feel. I found myself in uncomfortable situations. Kids watching rated R movies, talking about inappropriate things, not acting like seventh graders. And I wasn't even ready to give up sleeping with my baby blanket, let alone talk about sex and other things. (and I still sleep with my baby blanket. it's okay Harley does too.)

The summer before eighth grade I was miserable. Calling my dad to come pick me up when my friends were watching R rated movies, crying to my mom about how I couldn't stay out until 1:00 in the morning, doing things that I don't even want to do now.

(Quick side note: I'm not saying I was completely depressed and miserable for all of my Jr. High experience. I was actually quite happy. But now that I've felt the love of real friends, and real love for myself, I just wish that I could've felt that earlier)

So, walking into eighth grade, I was miserable. I was confused about who I was, and what my values were. I started to compare myself to others. I never felt pretty enough, talented enough or smart enough. Things got worse as my "friends" started to ignore me. Did things without telling me. Left me out. The weight of the world was piling high on my little 13-year old shoulders, and I was about to collapse. And no one knew about my heavy load because I never told anyone anything. I kept all my concerns to myself.

I have to admit, I was a pretty good actress.

I think I hit rock bottom near the end of eighth grade. I was watching a movie at someone's house, and everyone had paired off. There I was, sitting in the corner of that L-shaped couch, feeling sick to my stomach. No one would sit by me, or talk to me. I finally went outside and sat on the swings, tears flowing freely. I usually don't cry. Especially in public. I hated (and still hate) showing signs of weakness. But there I was, sobbing on the swings. I called my mom and asked her to come pick me up. I decided I was done with these people. I was done feeling so inferior, and I was done feeling bad about myself.

I think the thing that mostly pushed me over the edge was when I called one of my friends that wasn't there. He talked to me and listened to me, and none of those kids inside would ever do that. They wouldn't listen to me cry and let it out. They would tell me to shut up and grow up. I realized that friends are supposed to make you feel uplifted, not dragging you down. So I was done. I didn't hate those kids. I still don't. I get along with some of them today, some of us are friends. But then, us being friends was like swimming in toxic waste. Drowning it it. So I cut myself off of the "popular" kids. No, I didn't stand on the stage at school dance and announce it. It was done quietly. I just slipped out of their lives.

I'll admit, it was lonely. But that pressure was off of my chest, and I felt so much lighter. I wasn't the girl that went out every Saturday night. I spent a few solitary nights in my PJs watching Pixar. And you know what? That's perfectly okay. The more I spent time alone, I got to know myself a little better.

I'm not saying that I looked in the mirror and had a full on conversation. But being alone for a little while gave me time to realize what I wanted, what kind of person I wanted to be, and what I felt comfortable with. I didn't need compliments or boys trying to get my attention to feel good about myself. I didn't need those new clothes, hair highlights, that high end makeup. I was perfectly happy with my TJ Maxx sweater and my Covergirl mascara. Still am.

As eighth grade ended, I looked back and realized that I had made so many new friends, and had so many experiences. Experiences that I couldn't have had if I were tying myself down. I felt great about myself, and about others.

Entering ninth grade, I was probably as confident as a person could be. I finally let my crazy personality come out, and I think I shocked a lot of people. But I was happy as a clam. I wore my Harry Potter robes to school, talked as loud as I wanted, and just had a grand time at school. I loved ninth grade, because I was finally ME. With no masks. I would proudly tell my friends I bought my shirt at Plato's closet. I would proudly proclaim my love for Lord of the Rings. Ninth grade was filled with so many new and amazing experiences and friends.

Then the best summer ever happened to me.

This last summer was the best summer ever. In the history of mankind. I've already blogged and blogged about it, but I'll tell you again. The Jazz Band Trip, Trek, Girl's Camp, making new friend, it was just plain perfect.

This summer I realized that friends are fun, and nice, and non-backstabbing, and everything good in this world. Those kids changed my whole perspective on friendship, and love for my friends. And I love them so much for that. I would go on and on about how much I love them, but I won't. Because then they'll think I'm creepy. And because I've already exclaimed how much I love them.

And now we're here at the present. Me, loving life, being a little quieter than last year. A little more humble. But now I'm the happiest I've ever been. Change is good. Change is very good.