More Writing!

I'm not sure what goal in this blog post is, except perhaps to write more on my blog. I enjoy reading the blogs of family members, and often think to myself that I am very lucky to have come from such an eloquent group of people. Not to mention good-looking ;)

The internet is a very interesting place, I've decided, with rules and guidelines and etiquette like, and unlike, the real world. I've discovered, in my wanderings in cyberspace, an interesting set of rules, as posted on a site called usenet and slightly altered for my own nefarious purposes.

Rule #no number: There are no hard-and-fast Rules on the Internet, only Guidelines, which are more or less strictly enforced (and differ) from group to group; this is why it's generally wise to read any thread for a bit before ever posting to it.

Rule #9: It's *always* September, *somewhere* on the Net.
Dave Fischer's Extension: 1993 was The Year September Never Ended [so far, there doesn't seem to be much evidence he's wrong...]

Rule #17: Go not to the Net for counsel, for they will say both `No' and `Yes' and `Try another website'.

Rule #2: "The Net interprets censorship as damage and routes around it."

Rule #108 (from the soc.motss FAQ): "What will happen to me if I read soc.motss?" "In general, nothing. (You may be informed or infuriated, of course; but that's a standard Internet hazard.)"

Rule #666: Old alt groups never die. They don't fade away nicely, either.

Rule #7-B: There is no topic so thoroughly covered that no one will ever bring it up again.

Rule #90120: Applying your standards to someone else's post *will* result in a flame-war.

Rule #1: Spellling and grammer counts. So do grace, wit, and a sense of humor (the latter two are different), as well as a willingness to meet odd people, but these are lesser considerations.

Rule #x^2: FAQs are asked frequently. Get used to them.

rule #6 (Eddie Saxe): don't post to the Internet unless you understand the consequences.

Rule #547: When people know they're wrong they resort to ad hominems.

Rule #37: Read the thread from the beginning, or else.

Rule #5 (Reimer's Reason): Nobody ever ignores what they should ignore on the Net.

Rule $19.99: The Internet *isn't* *free*. It just has an economy that makes no sense to capitalism.

Rule #3 ("Why 3?" "Because we felt like it"): For every opinion there is at least one equally loud and opposing opinion; sometimes stated as:

Rule #27: "In cyberspace, *everyone* can hear you scream."

And for completeness' sake:

Rule #4: (Godwin's Rule) Any off-topic mention of Hitler or Nazis will cause the thread it is mentioned in to an irrelevant and off-topic end very soon; every thread on UseNet has a constantly-increasing probability to contain such a mention.
Quirk's Exception: Intentional invocation of this so-called "Nazi Clause" is ineffectual.
Case's Corollary: If the subject is Heinlein or homosexuality, the probability of a Hitler/Nazi comparison being made becomes equal to one.

Also, the first and foremost rule of the internet I, Shematite, have come across:

Rule #24601: Don't feed the Trolls.

This Wednesday is November Fourth. It marks my twenty-first birthday, one year since Barack Obama was elected, and one year since the family doctor said, "Have you ever thought that it might be Depression?"

That was a moment in which I felt more gratitude than anything else, because I had been thinking it was Major Depressive Disorder as early as the January before. In hindsight, everything is much clearer, of course, but I remember recognizing the signs that I had learned about in my AP Psychology class.

"But it can't be Depression," I told myself. "I don't feel sad. Just..." And I would trail off, because I was lacking the motivation to even examine the way I was feeling. I kept pushing thoughts like that out of my mind, keeping myself from thinking about the downward spiral I was in. I didn't go to class, didn't go to church, didn't really do anything. I woke up sometime between noon and one in the afternoon, showered, dressed, went out the back door of the doors and came in the front so I could tell my dorm-mates I'd just gotten back from class, then tell them I was tired and go hide in my room until whenever in the morning when I would finally be able to sleep.

Even now, thinking of the fact that I spent over half a quarter like this makes me cry. That's not who I am, and missing that much time to doing nothing irks me. By the time that episode was over, it was too late in the quarter for me to drop my classes so I wouldn't fail them, and I still wasn't willing to think about what I was doing. Therefore, I continued to pretend nothing was wrong, going out with friends and taking walks in the sunshine as much as I could.

Over the summer, I kept up my happy face, worked hard, even though I could still feel that dragging feeling, the feeling that it wouldn't take much to send me into another episode like the one of February and March. I hoped that going back to Cedar City I would be fine, especially if I focused on finding a job and working for a quarter, and leaving school until spring. As I'm sure you all know or guessed, that backfired spectacularly.

By the end of October, I was at my lowest point. I'd managed to get a telemarketing job, but hadn't even finished training before, as my friends put it, I crumbled like a cookie in a glass of milk. My wonderful parents drove all the way down to Cedar City and fished me out of there and took me home, so that at my doctor's appointment on my twentieth birthday I could be diagnosed with something other than a cold, or allergies, or whatever. I think I need to send a letter to the nice ladies at the little campus clinic at SUU. I'm sure they meant well, but if they are asking all the students they see to fill out a psychological form to check for Depression, they shouldn't dismiss a form with a lot of checks pointing to Depression with, "Oh, I'm sure it's just because you're sick and stressed." I felt strangely hurt by that, since by that time I was pretty sure I was depressed, and I felt like I must have just been imagining things, that I was just being lazy.

That was what I thought it was. For all those months, I was afraid to talk about what was wrong because I thought I had just suddenly become lazy. Nevermind that I was raised to be nearly the opposite; in fact, that almost made it worse. I felt so ashamed that I suddenly didn't want to do anything. My parents expected more of me! Laziness happened to other people! Depression was something that happened to people who weren't raised like I was. Slothfulness was for people who were weak. So...that meant I was weak.

Every day I thank my Heavenly Father for my parents who love me no matter what, and I thank him for the people who invented the medicine that fixes my brain. I also thank him for my friends, who, as soon as they heard I was back in North Ogden, would not let me just hide in the house and do nothing. I have beautiful, smart sisters who are my best friends, and I hope they'll learn from all my examples, the good and the bad, what to do and what to avoid.

Thanks, Heavenly Father, for this last year of healing, recovery, and remembering what kind of person I really am.

Went to go and visit the latest addition to the family. Say 'hi' to little baby Megsy!

Being held by awesome cousin Mayflower.

With Michex and Tristano, the proud papa!

My Hair

It finally happened. My hair is now dyed brown. Here are some pictures from this afternoon:

Hello, again, everyone!

I recently finished a book that Siltur recommended to me called Elantris by Brandon Sanderson. It is very good, well-written, and I recommend it to the entire family. You would all enjoy some of the things it brings up.

My fish is still alive!

Before my blog crashed, I wrote a short post about my new job. Since none of you got to read it before my blog died, I'll reitterate a little bit. I work as something like a telemarketer, calling people and talking to them to see if they qualify for a self-help program. Unlike working as a normal telemarketer, most of the people I call actually want to talk to me. It's a fun job with a friendly, encouraging work environment that pays well. I'm really happy with my job. Posters with a variety of positive affirmations cover the walls of the offices. The wall next to my desk has one that says "Sales come easy. I am a money magnet!" Behind me is "Positive energy is abundant in my life. Scarcity is an illusion." How wonderful that I get to work here!

After two months of being missing, my cell phone has been found. Saturday night the Library called my parents and said they had my phone in the lost and found. I was nowhere near the library when it was lost!

I love you all very much! Hope to see you all soon!

My Savior's Love

It seems that even if I don't manage to blog once a day, at least my fish is getting fed.

Yesterday, in Institute, we were asked to just write a little bit of how we feel about the Savior. This is what I wrote:

My Eldest Brother
I am overwhelmed by the loving, encircling arms of my beloved Eldest Brother, the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. He is a friend to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on and a God to heal my wounds with his own blood spilt in the Garden for me. My Brother knows me better than anyone else ever could, knows my pains and my joys.

2 Nephi 19:21 "...his hand is stretched out still."

Halloween!

In honor of the up-coming holiday, here is my post from last year's Halloween!



Halloween was super fun! JC3 (the honors hall I live on) had elementary students come trick or treating to all the dorm rooms. Honors even provided the candy so I didn't have to go buy Halloween candy! Wednesday afternoon was spent decorating the hall and finding costumes for the two girls who hadn't gotten one yet (A DI/walmart run firmly established their identities as a zombie and a punk rocker).

From six to eight we had small children coming through our hall for candy (and some not so small. The boys on the floor below found out what we were doing). Not nearly as many kids came as were planned for, so there is now a huge surplus of candy on JC3. And a girl from the school paper came and video taped the kids and interviewed me for video to put on the paper's website. When I figure out where that is, I'll let you guys know so that you can see.
The flow of children abated, and some of the girls decided to go out and party with some guys they just met. I'm glad they picked good guys that turned out to be really awesome, and that Whit-dog knew a friend of theirs, Joe. More about their adventures later.

Most of us stayed home. Some went to bed (I know, on Halloween) but a group of us watched Van Helsing. The hallway lights in the dorms are supposed to be on at all times, and there is no light switch, so we were having problems seeing the screen (a lot of Van Helsing takes place at night for some reason). So I, brilliant Honors student that I am, went and found the circuit box (words fail me, I can't remember what it's really called...) and turned off the hall lights. I hope none of the other RAs ever read my blog or our JC3 RA could get in trouble for letting me. We had to turn the lights back on for a few minutes when the on-call RA came through to lock up the building for the night. It was crazy fun being such a rebel.

The movie ended and The Phantom left. (He'd been there the whole time. Siltur asked him to hand out candy from her room when she had to leave for a while). We stayed up for a while talking and joking. Rowanoak and Siltur yelled at each other in foreign languages for a while (they claim it was Japanese) and we basically just had fun. At about a quarter after midnight the girls who had gone out with the strange boys came back with a story I'm sure they'll be telling their children to scare them...or something.

There were three boys and six girls in the group. All of the girls were from JC3 and knew each other, and Whit-dog knew Joe, a friend of these boys. Joe was supposedly going to meet up with the group later. Anyway, they went to one of the boy's house and watched a scary movie, Disturbia. It doesn't really matter what it was about, just that all the girls were freaked out. They then decided to go to the sheep tunnel. I had heard rumor of the sheep tunnel from a Panguitchian friend, so I knew where they were. The sheep tunnels go underneath the street in front of Wal-Mart, a quarter of a mile, eight feet tall, with grates in the roof about every thirty feet. It was almost midnight, pitch black, and since they had just decided to go, they had one keychain LED light and their cellphones. I'm told that the mud was also ankle deep. The girls' jeans definitely proved this one.

Anyway, the little group set off down the sheep tunnel. Those guys were smart; the girl:guy ratio was 2:1. And these girls had just seen a scary movie and were walking down a dark tunnel. Liybie held the little keychain light and walked in front. Whit-dog and Ash were in back with their boy sqeezed between them. According to Whit-dog and Ash, at about the third grate they heard someone above them swearing. At the next grate they heard the same voice say, "Hello, children." and at the next one they heard, "****! The cops are coming!" T-bird had pulled her back muscles earlier in her ballroom dance class, and she was starting to have some trouble keeping up. One of the guys, gentleman that he was, noticed and asked her if she wanted a piggy-back ride. She nodded and he picked her up.

It was not half a minute after EMT began carrying T-bird that a figure appeared in front of the group. They heard a super-creepy voice say "Hello, my little children." All the girls screamed and ran back the way they had come, except for T-bird, who was still being carried by EMT. EMT said, "Don't worry, T-bird. It's just Joe. We got him to come scare you girls."

Then the other boy who hadn't run with the other girls said, "Dude, that's not Joe."
As soon as the boys realized the the creepy approaching figure was not their friend, EMT set T-bird down on the ground and told her to run. EMT and the other boy stayed behind T-bird and the other girls the whole way out of the tunnel. As soon as they got out, they climbed into the cars and locked the doors. It only took a few minutes before one of the boys said, "Guys, we should find out if Joe's okay." So, the truck and the little passenger car set off toward the other end of the tunnel. Unfortunatly, before they got there red and blue lights were flashing behind them. They pulled over to the side of the road. and were instantly surrounded by a half-dozen cop cars. Among the usual questions, the cops asked if they had been drinking. I can see why the officer would ask that; Liybie had changed out of her costume but still had smudges of black around her eyes and ratted zombie hair, and W-wen's hair was streaked red and purple. After telling the officers that they had been in the sheep tunnel, the officers relaxed. Apparently, while the group had been in the tunnel, there had been a burglary in one of the stores right next to the tunnel. The reported vehicles had been a large truck and a little passenger car, just like what my friends were in.
After that, they drove back to the house they had watched the movie at. As they walked in the house, the boys started laughing. They said, "We scared you good! That really was Joe!"

This reassured the girls. They laughed and had the boys bring them home to JC3. But Whit-dog called Joe on her cellphone to congratulate him on scaring them so bad, and he was completely baffled. He said he'd been home all night and had his mom back him up. Also, T-bird assured us that EMT had been genuinely frightened down in the tunnel and had actually pulled a knife on the guy (sorry, forgot that detail.)

After sharing this creepy adventure with those of us who had stayed at the dorms, we all were a little freaked out and decided to freak each other out even more by telling scary stories. This led to a very in-depth disscussion about spiritual protection and spiritual gifts. Holy sardines, Batman, there are some spiritual giants in JC3. It seems almost all of us felt spiritually prompted to come to college here, and almost all of us are very receptive to spiritual promptings and revelation. Wow! I feel very privileged to be among this group of amazing girls.

After all of that, I helped T-bird take care of her back. (thank you again, dreampacker. those essential oils rock!) and then went to bed. We'd stayed up until four in the morning.

And we could still function the next day in our classes. Happy Halloween!