Sometimes I Wish I Lived in a TV Show

This morning I was sitting in the Eyring Science Center waiting for my New Testament class to start. As I have a break between my Stats class and New Testament, I sit at a table upstairs in front of the windows. This is done for two reasons: I find myself feeling smarter when I sit among the brilliant science major students and it’s an excellent place to people-watch as students enter and exit the building and walk outside on campus. Naturally, I was looking for some particular friends and I got to thinking of one of my favorite TV shows called One Tree Hill. I love that show! I own nearly all the seasons and can quote some specific episodes directly because I’ve watched them so much. Anywho, I thought of a particular scene between two characters. After having a fight the previous night, Haley is sitting at a lunch table doing homework when Nathan comes up behind her, sits down, and begins talking to her. Things don’t get 100 percent resolved, but the point is he goes to her; he wants to try to work things out. They talk freely, honestly, without get mad, but appreciating the other’s point of view. As I watched the people outside and played with my highlighter, I couldn’t help, but wish the same experience would happen to me right then. These thoughts lead me to another one I care to share. Sometimes I wish I lived in a TV show. Episode after episode, example after example help to make my point. In TV show land, things aren’t perfect, but sure seem a heck of a lot easier than real-life land.

Here lie some examples for you to consider:

When you live in a TV show, episodes are typically 46 minutes long without commercials. When less than positive things happen, they span over 1 to 3 episodes; 5 if your producers are really pushing the suspense. This means that when you breakup with someone, get in a fight, land yourself in the hospital, you don’t have to deal with the pain and discomfort for days, weeks, and sometimes months. No, you get recovered within 46 and 138 minutes; or at most, 230 minutes. Um, recovery time cut drastically…who WOULDN’T want that? Exactly. TV shows rock.

I wish I could commentate my life like a TV episode. Wake up and end the day with how I feel with just the right mood music playing in the back ground. Take Grey’s Anatomy commentary, for example; pretty darn good if you ask me. It could be like walking to an AM radio station of yourself throughout the day. Although, it could be annoying, it might be something worth getting used to.

I call this next example the “It’s a Wonderful Life moment”. Relating again to One Tree Hill, it’s a reoccurring plot line to have a specific character land in the hospital with unconscious, near death injuries. As their loved ones mourn, hurt character is escorted by some sort of “angel” to see how people are dealing with the trauma. I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought multiple times what people’s reaction would be if I went unconscious. How would people react? Who would come to the hospital? Who would stay at the hospital? After looking at the present, character and angel take a look at what life would be like if said individual never existed or died. This gives the person a chance to see what sort of difference they make in the lives of family members and friends. This leads me to think, who would be affected the most? Have I made any real difference to anyone or would the lives of those I interact with be pretty much unaffected? Questions I so desperately want answered, but feel only will truly happen if I lived in a TV show.

Have we noticed how men on TV shows are pretty close to perfect? They know all the right things to say and make you feel like the most beautiful girl on Earth. They still put rose petals on your bed even when you’ve been married 7 years (again, taken from One Tree Hill). They’re constantly doing things to take your breath away. They also just seem much easier to read. I know there are men out here in real-life land like that, but I have yet to meet one that isn’t currently attached. I’m waiting for my Lucas, Nathan, Seth, Leo, Ricky, Junior, or McDreamy still…

A favorite show of mine is called Charmed. It’s based on 3 modern day sisters who are turned into witches. Obviously, each sister gets a power. Piper gets the power to freeze time. I would LOVE that power! Think about it: you’re running on the sidewalk, a strange man attacks you; you freeze him, run away and watch from safer ground at his confusion as to where you went. Hysterical! Living in Charmed would be fun.

Another “perk” of being a witch is having lots of spells to use. One such spell the girls use is called the “truth telling spell”. How much I would love to use that! The questions and misunderstandings that could be truly resolved…one day…

In order to keep the TV show going, there has to be drama. Unfortunately, that is inevitable. In life, there are setbacks. There are things that make you hurt. Whether they come via boyfriend, best friend, family member, whomever, it happens. When you watch a TV show, friends will get into a fight and say things will never be the same. Then all of a sudden something really awful happens that brings the two back together and makes their friendship bigger and better than ever. Is it so awful of me to say that I want something like a creepy stalker to come over to my home (One Tree Hill), not get into a specific college (The O.C.) or nearly die falling into a freezing lake and can’t get out (Grey’s Anatomy) for such issues to be resolved? In TV land, the best friends always become friends again. The “meant to be” couple always gets together in the end. Things typically work out pretty well at the end of the hour. That sounds blissful!

TV shows can be annoying, but I think they have their perks! Friendships stay firm. Relationships last. Funny things are publically and permanently documented. Stupidity is generally accepted. There’s usually some sort of conclusion at the end of your 60 minute hour. And if there isn’t, the next episode will fix it for you! That’s only a mere 92 minutes later (remember we’re not counting commercials here). The bad guy is eventually exposed. The good guy eventually wins. The right music plays at the right time. Things work out. Yes, sometimes I wish I lived in a TV show.

To all in real-people land,

Loves!

My New Home!

Our new home away from home ~ The 306!

Family Room
Personal Pantry
Kitchen
Bathroom Closet (Yes, the two packed shelves are mine)
Bathroom (I share with Miss Shelly)
Double door closet
Very spacious desk space
We all have our own rooms :)
Hall way to my room
Washer and dryer

Massages and Words

First lesson when creating a blog: take a freaking class! The past 24 hours of my life I’ve tried and tried to figure out how a darn blog site works. Trying to add pictures of my apartment seems to be comparably difficult as trying to add Jake Gyllenhaal to my Facebook friend list. Needless to say, I’m giving up on that endeavor for the moment and will wait patiently for my roommate to get home and explain it to me. In the meantime, however, I have some things on my mind that I care to write about.

Number one: At 12 noon today, Mrs. Veda Weinert came over to give the girls of the 306 massages. She’s currently going to Utah College of Massage Therapy and needed some girls to practice on. We were all too willing to offer our sore backs and necks to her services.

I lived with Veda on Chipman 3100 last year and I’m happy to report she still considers me her friend. She’s an impeccable example to me. Her strength and testimony will never be shaken. Although she is young and to most, getting married at our age is nothing short of crazy, I’m not worried for Allan and Veda though. I see a lifetime and eternity of happiness for the pair of them. Best wishes to you both! (Here is where I would have inserted a picture from her wedding reception last Saturday, but of course, that’s not working out for me very well. Soon. Very soon….)

One of the things I like most about Veda is her ability to find the good in other people, despite their pasts. She see’s people for who they are. Not the smile on your face, but can tell when a person is truly lonely or truly in need of a talking too. Thank you Veda! You mean the world to me. (And I’m not just saying that because you worked on my “golf ball” knots in my neck for over an hour)

Number two: I’ve been thinking this week about words. We speak words every day. Whether we talk to ourselves (don’t deny, we all do it), talk to the road as we run, talk to our roommates, talk to our spouses, talk to our sisters, talk to our professors and TA’s, talk to new friends, old friends and people we wish we could still call friends, we talk all the time. We speak words. But do we ever really listen to what we’re saying? Do we hear what comes out of our mouths? Do we realize what we say has meaning? Do we realize that when we say something, even if it’s just one word, we can either lift a heart or shatter it?

I offer an analogy for you. Although no one has ever hit me in the face, I think about the time I ran into a wall and had 7 stitches above my right eye. (Any questions about that, two words….Beehive. Mutual) Having a swarm of young women circle me while I waited desperately for my mom to arrive was less than fun, especially when the leaders kept telling me I would need surgery (smart to tell a 12 year old, right?) Let’s not even being to describe how much I “loved” the feeling of having a rather large needle go into my open wound in order to numb me for my stitches (and for a 12 year old, I was somewhat traumatized). Everyone getting my point? It hurt. It was a stinky situation I’d rather not repeat again. This summer, I worked with adults with disabilities. I’d like to use one of my clients as an example. We’ll call her name Barbie. Barbie had a little bit of a temper. She also hated pretty much 95% of the things that crossed her path. Needless to say, she didn’t like me from about the moment I walked into the room. One fine day, she got upset and pushed me to the floor. Later that night as I was getting dressed for my run, I noticed a perfect hand bruise on my stomach. Ladies and gentlemen, you think I’m kidding. I’m not. Perfect. Handprint. (Just in shades of purple and blue). Can we all say “aw?”

From these two examples I’ve given you, I’ve learned two important lessons. One: don’t play “crack the whip” in the dark in the church gym with a bunch of twelve year olds. Someone is bound to get hurt. Two: when you’re in the same room as Barbie, you stay on the opposite side. Unfortunately, learning mistakes from your words can be a little more challenging. It’s not so cut and dry; black and white. Words can have just as strong a blow, if not worse, than hitting a wall or being assaulted for offering ketchup on someone’s chicken nuggets. Words can hurt more than being slapped across the face. Words can hurt more than eating a Cocoa Bean cupcake when you have Celiac disease. Recently, I recall kneeling down in prayer and telling the Lord I’d rather be stabbed in the back with a knife than stabbed in the back with words. A knife injury you can heal from with stitches, bed rest, and lots of anti-scar creams. Harsh accusations, criticism, and plain mean dirty comments aren’t quite so easily recoverable. What we say to a person, even if it’s merely a fight for a few weeks or a disagreement for an hour, can pierce the heart and never be forgotten. I think when friends say “I’ll be here for you---no matter what.” ; no matter what. That’s a really big promise. And I fear that many of us have not kept it. Looking back, I can think of a few whom I’ve promised, but not fulfilled. Soon, something as powerful as words can mean nothing. They lose creditability. Who can one believe? Who can one trust? Why bother at all if the words people keep telling you keep hurting you? Why do you say sorry when you don’t mean it? Why lie to cover up a mistake? Why say “I’ll be there for you always” if you don’t intend on keeping that promise….even when ‘always’ is hard?

Now, you’re all probably thinking “wow Meg, bitter much? Upset much? Depressed much?” Actually I’m not. And I have a point to my somewhat pessimistic opening. Words can hurt. Words do hurt…sometimes. But words can also heal. They can make you happy. They can change you day. They can change your life. My friend Veda said one word and moments later she was married to the man of her dreams for time and all eternity. As I’m studying the New Testament this semester, I read how the Savior says, “Peace, be still” and everything becomes calm. I marvel at those early pioneers who said one word when asked to deny the Book of Mormon or the prophet Joseph Smith…”No.” If you’ve ever betrayed someone, the kindest, most sincere words you could ever hope to hear are “I forgive you”. Two people take a leap of faith when they look at each other and say “I love you.” Words mean something. They can produce a ripple effect in ways people tend to overlook. I know I have until recently. I understand better now why we’re counseled to speak kind and uplifting words. Words mean something. They can hurt. But they can bring peace. They can bruise your heart. But they can heal it too. May we all learn exactly what our words mean and what they can do. A few words can start a new and everlasting relationship. It can also break one. Do we want words to be the reason why pain resides in our hearts and our minds years later? Be careful how we use our words. Don’t let the bad words hurt you too much. That skill is a tough one to master. I’m still very much in the process of learning it, but I know that the mean words, the hurtful words, the word that sting, are the ones to overlook.

There are some words I wish I could take back. I wish I could take back the words I sent to Covey Wilson freshman year saying I’d pick up 10 pizzas and bring them to a cabin after I’d just moved my friend into her new apartment. (Talk about stressful! Not to mention one smelly car) I wish I could take back the words I said when I embarrassed myself in front of my seminary class sophomore year of high school when I said I wanted to sleep with a bear (some took that phrase a little too far, including my teacher). I wish I could take back the words I’ve said to people whom I’ve lost over the years. Whether it’s “right in the moment”, mean things are never right to say. I wish others would believe the words I say. I’m suggesting everyone has someone they can think of in whom they’re waiting to hear these 3 simple words: “I forgive you”. I wish I could go back and say words I kept only to myself. Had I said them, perhaps different outcomes could have resulted. Let us use our words with caution, but not forget to say the important things. May we all let go of the grudges we hold, the heartache we feel, and the anger which resides and use our words to let it go. May we each strive to be more loving, more forgiving, and more uplifting with our words. May we remember how blessed we are to use words; let’s not abuse them. Let’s not let words be the reason why years later we look back and regret. Let us use our words to make someone’s dream come true. Let us use our words and our ability to communicate be reflective of our Savior.

The people who care most are probably the one’s reading this. To each of you, I love you. I care about you. Even when I’m mad or hurt, I still care about you. I always will.

Loves!

Megan's First Blog

The time has come to follow in the footsteps of my fellow family members, dear friends, spectacular examples, and yes, even my rivals. Okay that last part was a joke, but I have embraced the idea and started my very own blog. Yes, it is just another excuse for me to sit down and talk (via computer screen), but to anyone who knows me, the idea sounds nothing, but splendid!

First things first, let's play catch up: After a long, but fun summer vacation in Draper, I moved my things back to Provo (single-handily I might add) for year number 2 at Brigham Young University. I'm living in Spyglass Apartments. The complex is less than a block from campus and super nice! I am so blessed to be living here as I know too many college students don't have the pleasure of having their own room, personal pantry, personal bathroom closet, kitchen cabinet space, washer and dryer or matching, decent looking couches. I am one spoiled lady! *Pictures to come soon* My roommates are wonderful!! I'm living with Miss Shelly Matthews (soon to be Mrs. Keaton Jolley, although it's not official yet so don't get too excited friends), Miss Whitney Steed (my adorable Canadian roommate whom I learn from and respect more everyday) and Miss Kelsey Page (my first official friend I found at BYU and can always be found doing something for the sake of our university). My classes are Stats, Biology, Humanities, Multicultural Sociology and New Testament. I'm really enjoying all of them thus far. I've already learned so much. After meeting with a counselor earlier this week, I'm [pretty] confident I will be majoring in art history. This is not a for-sure thing yet, but I'm feeling pretty good about it and it's a subject I'm truly passionate about. I’ll let you know when the decision is more definite. I’m thankful to be going to school where church and education are so closely linked. The Spirit can be felt nearly everywhere you go and although there are different people with different standards around, we’re an overall happy campus to be on.

I have much to be thankful for right now. I’d like to take this time to express some of the happy, tender mercies the Lord has blessed me with. This semester, I’m taking my last math and science class----EVER! Woot! Woot! I made a wonderful Gluten Free cake and got excellent reviews from roommates, boyfriends, and people I don’t really know, but offered cake too anyways because they were sitting in my living room. Apartment 306 has been a blast to live in! The girls and I have had nothing, but funny (and learnable) experiences. For example, Labor Day, our toilet decided to explode---literally. Two days later, it exploded again. Thanks to modern technology, aka Google, Shelly and I fixed our little “plumbing problem” with no help from boys and/or parents. Granted, we smelled like an outhouse and looked even worse, but we nonetheless proclaimed ourselves to be TRUE WOMEN OF 2011. I’ve never been more thankful for the trials of my past than I am right now in the present. I’m thankful that the Lord knew I needed to be “stretched”. Although I didn’t think it was needed, I realize now how much it was. And each day I become more thankful that each tear was shed, each step was taken, and each prayer, whether happy or sad, was answered.

Although I have much to be grateful for, things have not gone exactly as I expected. I would be lying if I said I’ve taken it well. On the contrary, I haven’t, but every day “I’m getting a little bit stronger” (to quote country music singer, Sara Evans). I’ve had my weak days (i.e. roommates find me crying, throwing up in the middle of the night, and drinking by far too much IBC). Once again, I’ve been brought down to my knees to ask for the Lord’s help and peaceful guidance. Very slowly, I feel myself getting better. Some days it doesn’t seem like it, but I know it will. Life goes on. Some days, some hours, some minutes I don’t want it to. I take comfort that the Lord knows what’s best for me. I’ve learned His plan for me is a lot better than the one I have in mind. Although I don’t understand why some things happen, why some people choose to leave, or why curveballs keep being thrown my way, they happen for a reason. One must learn to be patient enough to wait for the rainbow to come out again.

Loves!