You should check out this BYU blog. I contribute to it. And technically it's not "launched" yet, as in, no one knows about it. But now you do. Check it out.


or click HERE


My computer is broken. It decided to turn off one day and never come back on. I hope that's how I die someday, like, when I'm 95. Just go to sleep and not wake up...... Yeah, so, I should have a new hard drive this week and then my life will go back to normal. It's amazing how immobilized I feel without my lappy.

I was in the Wilk this weekend and decided to use their facilities to relieve myself. I walked in, took a seat, and noticed they had put in new t.p. dispensers. All I had to do was wave my hand and it spit out the perfect amount of t.p. What service! Then I got up off of the porcelain throne and it flushed for me! I didn't have to touch a thing, except my own clothing. [Note: I DID have to touch the stall door to open it. I hope they fix that oversight soon. What gall.] I walked to the sink and was not surprised to see the automatic soap dispenser and faucet. Wow. The paper towel dispenser was NOT automatic, so I opted not to trouble myself with that inconvenience. Instead, I walked over to the gray box bolted to the wall. It had two round cut-out openings on the top with clear hieroglyphic instructions explaining how to use it. I stuck my hands in the openings and a super-sonic burst of luke-warm air blasted my hands. I jerked them out, startled by the power of the hand dryers and also embarrassed by the noise it made. Perhaps it is helping keep trees firmly planted in the ground, but it is surely adding to the huge problem of noise pollution. Yet another glitch they'll have to look into fixing. ("They" being the scientists, inventors, and of course, government people that are behind all problems but hardly ever behind the solutions. Am I right? Or am I right? Right. Righ-righ-right.) If you're ever on the second floor of the Wilk, I highly recommend visiting this bathroom of the future. Because, in case you haven't heard and by evidence of this public lavatory, the future--is now.

I wore socks the other day. They didn't match. One of black and the other was white with polka-dots. Luckily, they were ankle socks. I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but because all my mismatched socks are invisible when I'm wearing shoes, I don't have to throw them away or frantically search for the lost foot cover. (That's another term for sock. I just made it up to avoid saying "sock" again. Do you think it works?) In fact, to prove my fearless nature concerning mismatched socks, I even rolled up my pants a titch (strange, strange word) so as to say, "HA! I am wearing two different socks, but I bet you didn't know that!"

There's this band from Provo that I've heard perform a couple times and they're ok. I wasn't a HUGE fan, but they are better than a lot of local bands. I guess they are doing some recording and getting noticed, and things are looking good for them. I read about them in The Daily Universe and suddenly felt inclined to become their fan. To claim I had heard them when they were playing at BYU Battle of the Bands. At The Velour. That I had talked to the guitarist before. It was pathetic. After going through all the ways I could prove I knew about them "before they were famous" I realized I didn't have to because I DON'T LIKE THEM. Silly Elizabeth. What is it with common folk and fame? It is built into us, like the need for food and water, like the instinct to fight when being attacked, to have connections with fame. We are ridiculous. Well, at least, I am.


Kelsey tagged me to highlight all the things on the list that I've done. It was fun, but also sad to realize I haven't done some of the things I've wanted to all my life. But that's what the rest of my life is for, eh?

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6.Given more than you can afford to charity
7.Been to Disneyland
8.Climbed a mountain
9.Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea (from Bagdad, does that count?)
14.Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty (you can't any more, you can only go part way up)
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20.Slept on an overnight train (I slept on the train for about 3 hours, and then got off two hours later, but it was going overnight.... haha)
21.Had a pillow fight
22.Hitch hiked
23.Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24.Built a snow fort
25.Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung Karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business (baby sitting business in jr. high. does that count?)
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous (Ryan Shupe, Richard G. Scott, David A. Bednar)
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

I tag Deon, just to see if she'll do it. ;o)


How would you like to live in the enchanted castle in, "Beauty and the Beast" and be one of the kitchen dishes without a face? You are so insignificant in your role in the castle and the film that you not only have no lines, but no mouth to say them with! Here's a bit of wisdom for you: Live your life to the fullest. Live so that if the time came and you were turned into a gravy boat or beer stein, you would have a face and perhaps even a name. That, my friend, is how to judge if your life has been worthwhile.

President Monson spoke tonight at the CES fireside. It was good. He is a very wise man. I especially liked how he said, "When you help another up a mountain, you are a little bit closer to the top yourself."
The boys I was watching it with decided it would be a great idea to make, "President Monson Bingo." For example, there would be a square with, "19th Century author" and if he mentioned an author from that period, you would put a marker there. Another would be, "Story about a widow." Or, "Refers to himself as 'Tommy.'" Another could be, "Charles Dickons book." I think they could make a killing off such a game. Of course, they would probably be marked as blasphamous apostates, but money can cure all ailments. Am I right?

Our heater doesn't work. It's really cold in my apartment. I wish I had a Snuggie. They're so classy.If I had a horse, we could be twinners!


i'm pretty sure i have occasional premonitions, kinda like Raven, except i'm white. for example, yesterday i was thinking, "i should go get my phone in case it rings." and then, two seconds later, it rang! then today, i was putting stuff into my purse to bring with me to work and i thought, "hmm, it might be a good idea to bring some band-aids just in case. especially since i have Hello Kitty band-aids." but i didn't, because my memory last about 6 seconds and it took me 7 to find my phone to put in my purse. and guess what? the coach in the front seat of the van i was driving cut his finger and was looking for a band-aid. he had to settle for a napkin. and finally, today i was picking out CDs to bring with me while driving the air port shuttle. i chose Canoe and Death Cab for Cutie, ya know, easy listening. then i thought, "i'll bring Michael Jackson because it keeps me calm, in case i hit traffic." i drove up to the airport, dropped the volleyball team off, and was headed back to Provo when i looked across the freeway divider and saw traffic piled up for at least 3 miles. i actually didn't hit any traffic, but if i HAD hit that traffic, i would've been prepared.
yeah, i'm pretty sure i'm psychic.


Coincidentally, this quote popped up on iGoogle this morning. I thought it was worth posting.

"Happiness is always a by-product. It is probably a matter of temperament, and for anything I know it may be glandular. But it is not something that can be demanded from life, and if you are not happy you had better stop worrying about it and see what treasures you can pluck from your own brand of unhappiness."

-Robertson Davies


I’ve never been one for adventure. Sure, I played wizards with my brother and sister growing up. Sure, I ate ants and climbed trees, tasted mud and got scabby knees. But I never ventured past the ravines just surrounding my backcountry neighborhood. When I dreamed, I thought about my perfect bedroom—complete with a built-in mailbox for delivery of notes from my friends—not about going to far away lands and meeting exotic people. Some may classify my early years as “adventurous” but when I left childhood I left any minuscule drive for adventure in the dirt and homemade slingshots and moved on.

What did I move on to? It’s hard to say. I began this address with a statement that seems so sure of itself. But the truth is, I just came to realize the truth of it. I say I have never been one for adventure, but I also have not always been aware of that fact. I realized it just this past fall. While discussing, well, life, with a friend I became aware of my subtle but ever present fear of it. Of life. Of the very thing that brings me so much joy. I don’t so much fear the future, nor the changes that come. Instead, I fear the pressure from myself and others to do more, be more, and the high probability of failure. It is so much easier to do the minimum required of me, I know I can accomplish that and therefore the fear of failure is diminished.

Once I came upon this discovery, I reflected on how it is not a recently developed trait. I have feared striving to be the best since my childhood. From not going out for the higher level softball team, to deciding to not be a concert pianist because it was too competitive, to deciding I’d be happy working at a small-town newspaper instead of at The New York Times or even my dream job at National Geographic. I doubt they’d even consider me after reading this. Someone not driven by or for adventure wanting to work at the most exotic and daring magazines in the world? I think not.

I don’t know if I want to change. I’ve been telling myself for so long that I’m ok with the average that I think I truly am happy with it now. I often wonder how life would be different if I was more adventurous. There are pros and cons in my head. Then I think of the stories I could tell, of the reactions I could get out of people. Is that the only reason why I’d want to be an adventurous person? So that I could tell people about it? So that I’d feel important in the eyes of the world? Perhaps that is why I am content, and quite happy, with my somewhat dull, very blessed, ordinary, filled with the occasional extraordinary, life: I am told I should be more “adventurous,” more ambitious, I should want more and more. But in my mind, that’s like only being happy once you’ve gotten to your destination instead of enjoying the journey and the simple beauties that surround you. Personally, I live for the simple beauties.

So New York can get along without me. I can play the piano for the Primary. My photographs can be displayed on my mom’s walls, and maybe one day I’ll try my luck between the yellow pages of National Geographic. But for now, I would rather live for what I love instead of forcing myself to be adventurous for adventure’s sake.

I’ve never been one for adventure. And I’m ok with that.