This time, it will be different.

I've heard the saying before. That age-old quotation that the grass is always greener on the other side. It flashes across my mind in Helvetica type every time I decide to make a life-altering decision. A decision that lets me escape the life I'm in by hoping to obtain a life I wish I had. I pretend it all will change. That I will change. And often I sincerely believe it. Often it's not pretend that when I move apartments, move cities, cut my hair, get a new job, quit an old job, that the grass really will be a deeper shade of emerald. I say to the future, "From now on, I will be different. I will be the girl I've always wanted to be. I will have the life I've always wanted. This time, it will be different."

I talk to the future as if it's a person. I argue with it, I plead with it. I beg the future to follow my plan. Instead, I follow it, always looking to the future for change, for difference, for the green I can never seem to grasp.

One day, it really will be different.

©2010 E. Gosney


I saw an old man at the store today who was using a crutch. He also had a black eye-patch. No parrot, though. I smiled at him as I passed, looking into his one good eye. Someday I'm gonna be cool like him.

I figured it out. I have the sense of humor of a chubby, middle-aged, white-collar male. It's true. And that is why few people readily accept my humor as it comes out of my mouth: a chubby, twenty-something, poor college female. I can't think of a way to describe it, a way to prove my point, but it's true. Believe me. I'll think of an example, or better yet, probably live an example today while trying to be funny around strangers. They'll give me pity laughs and awkward looks before changing the subject. Ha ha, I love it. And then, when people choose to stick around me, I know they'll be a true friend. So, in conclusion, having the humor of my physical and socio-economic antithesis is greatly beneficial to my emotional and social well-being.

Oh, did I tell you I went to Seattle? I love that city.
Mini-doughnuts are da best. (And Stevie is too.)
Washington (Puget Sound) Beaches: Rocks, seaweed, driftwood, shells and small waves. Gotta love it.


It's 9 p.m. I have an article due in 12 hours. I haven't started it yet, nor have I slept a sufficient amount of hours in the past couple days. Last night? 3.5 hours. Then I was on a plane for 5 hours, landing in El Paso, Phoenix and finally Salt Lake City. Planes are not comfortable places to sleep.

In consequence of procrastinating this article and not getting enough sleep, I am writing on my blog and playing around with all the photos I took this past week instead. One wedding. Two family portrait sessions. And a bunch of snap shots of my Texas visit. Wanna see?

Devon, Spencer, Sarah and James
Lilly, Aurora and Jemma
Charlie and Ben

Spot the difference between these two photos: 

Alright. I better get going on that article. I wish I had some cotton, striped, men's pajamas. They would make this so much better. 

[Check out my photography blog for more photos]


I got to visit with my grandpa on Monday -- my dad's father, obviously not my mom's father, who passed away a couple weeks ago. He is a stinkin' amazing guy. He flew more than 35 missions over Japan during WWII and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for bringing home a B-29 and its crew safely after being shot up and losing an engine. He earned his Professional Engineering license in 1960 and said it was his "greatest accomplishment." He's the father of six children, has never owned a computer (I doubt he's ever used one) and still lives on his own in the house my dad grew up in. He turns 89 next month, and said he does puzzles and reads old western novels to keep himself busy. He used to be at least 6 feet tall, but now he's probably just 5'9" or so. Since I can remember, he's always had a short white beard or goatee. It suits him. I love how he laughs and smiles with his eyes. He's a good man. I'm glad I got to talk with him for a little while.

One of my best friends got married last weekend in the Seattle Temple. I took the pictures. Simply put, I have a lot to learn. But Carly and Andrew are beautiful people, so I didn't have to make them look good, they already did. ;o) Here's a sneak peak. 

I love how they love each other. And laugh with each other. So awesome.

Three amigas. Stevie, Carly and me. (I got to really utilize my tripod and timer.)


Now I'm in Texas, trying not to suffocate from the humidity. I was going to try and adjust from Pacific Time to Central Time, but I failed. It's 2 a.m. and I'm wide awake -- that's odd though, since I'm usually tired by midnight anyway, which is what my body thinks the time is...


Glee helps introduce me to music I previously could've lived without. Now I apparently really like Journey. :o)

I am off to Washington today for the weekend and then to Texas for a week. Um, can I get a little exclamation? 



Something to hold you over until Glee's last episode (of the first season, no worries!) is posted tomorrow.


My grandpa passed away on Sunday morning. Today was the funeral. We started out with just the family at 9 a.m. where we had a viewing and then his wife (my grandma) and his four kids (including my mom) all shared memories and their testimonies of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. (Other members of the family and a few very close friends also shared memories of my grandpa. My brother Thomas' memory of bearing the name Roberts was one of my favorites.)

The family meeting was hardest in terms of not crying. The actual funeral service was pretty funny with all the stories told about my grandpa and his "brown look" and animal-shaped pancakes. The family then went to the grave site where my Uncle Tom dedicated the grave and several of the grandsons acted as pallbearers. We ate lunch back at the church and it ended up being a really good day. I loved being with my family.

My grandpa was, and is, a great man. Incredibly intelligent, yet so humble. Somber at times, but with a quick whit and sense of humor like no other. He was faithful and obedient, but not blindly so. He knew the Gospel is true and was not ashamed of it. He bore his testimony in word and deed. He'll be missed here on earth, but we'll see him again someday.

The pallbearers -- Phil, Gabe, Dustin, Devon, Cameron, Peter and Thomas.
Pattie and Brian's family (except for Noah and the in-laws) and Grandma.
Tom and Traci's family and Grandma.
Part of my family with Grandma Deon.
The kids with their mama -- Mark, Carrie, Grandma, Tom and Pattie
Hannah and Catherine.
Aunt Pattie and my mom, Carrie Jo. They crack me up. Me and my sisters are gonna be just like this when we get older too. :o)


Writing a news article, in many ways, is like playing Dominoes or Scrabble. You have all these quotes, ideas, paraphrased paragraphs and background information and a million different ways to arrange them all. You start off with a strong lede (the hardest part, at least for me) and then a nutgraph. Once that's done, you plug in a quote. Then an explanation that leads into another quote. Stick in some background info and another quote. Paraphrase. Quote. And then you get stuck. The last quote just doesn't work. Sure, it sounds good, but it doesn't lead you anywhere. Like in Dominoes, it's a double 7 tile, but you don't have any other seven tiles. So you back up, taking that seven tile away and stashing it for later, if ever. The same concept works for Scrabble. You have a D and an O and an R and a K and things are looking great, but then you don't have anything else to play and you have to rethink it all.

Life is too often like a game. Dr. Mario. Scrabble. Dominoes. Yet, it is very rarely like the game LIFE. Ironic? I think so.


It's funny when things happen today that you were hoping would've happened a few weeks ago. And by today, you don't really care any more, but then it happens and you start hoping for things like it to happen tomorrow too. You know? Yeah. You get what I'm saying.