Wednesday, October 17, 2012

A whole slew of exciting things

What is so exciting about this post, you may ask?

It is my 200th published one!
Also I turned old today.
But that is besides the point!

As a... present to myself, I'd like to ask you all a favor.

Ask me a question.

Really, truly, anything. 
Something silly, something serious, truly, I want to hear (read?) whatever it is that you have to say.

I often tell people that I have no secrets, and with that being said, I will answer your questions as honestly and in the very best way possible.

Thanks everyone! Loves!

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Thoughts from Devotional

"I have yet to find a verse written that says, 'Thou shalt be mediocre.'"

This was said at a devotional last week. Everyone laughed as the speaker continued with his talk, but I just couldn't stop thinking about it. 
There is so much truth spoken in this simple sentence. How often do we sell ourselves short. And more importantly, why?

I was thinking about this the other day. Thinking of how, essentially, we are all programmed the same. Yes, we all have our unique consciousness, but we all have two arms, two legs, and we all have a brain composed of different loves and synapses.
Some are shy, but the potential to be out going is there. They can be outgoing, but it just isn't a dominate trait, and they choose not to exercise it or act that way.

I hate people who say, "Oh, I could never wear that." "Oh I can't do that." It's ridiculous! Each of us can do, can be whatever we want. It's just a matter of want. It's a matter of wanting to do that thing.
Exercise those things you want to grow and they will grow more than you ever thought.

"Have you lived your vision?"

My vision is me being a missionary. Working as a nurse. Married happily to someone who loves this gospel as much as he loves me. I want to be sealed in the temple. I wan to travel the world. I want to act and dance and sing. I want to be in a musical. I want to be a writer. I want to be an EFY counselor. I want to offer myself for humanitarian work. I want to save someone's life. I want to have those days where when you lay in your bed you feel every single ounce of tiredness on your body. But still feeling success in all the tasks that you were able to accomplish that day.

I want to smile.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Attention boys: are you taking notes?

I realize I haven't been here for a while.
Yes, I've been posting, but not quite... writing.
I have so many thoughts to share with you, but for now this beautiful piece I just found will have to suffice.

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

Friday, September 28, 2012

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Beautiful things

Her prince finally came to save her.
This one is stolen from Lauren

"If there is no God, then God is incalculably the greatest single creation of the human imagination. No other creation creation of the imagination has been so fertile of ideas, so great an inspiration to philosophy  to literature, to painting sculpture, architecture, and drama. Set beside the idea of God, the most original inventions of mathematicians and the most unforgettable characters in drama are minor products of the imagination: Hamlet and the square root of minus one pale into insignificance by comparison."

-Anthony Kenny

From lovely Lydia

“So many words ge
t lost. They leave the mouth and lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days, you can hear their chorus rushing past: IwasabeautifulgirlPleasedon’tgoItoobelievemybodyismadeofglass-I’veneverlovedanyoneIthinkofmyselfasfunnyForgiveme….

There was a time when it wasn’t uncommon to use a piece of string to guide words that otherwise might falter on the way to their destinations. Shy people carried a little bunch of string in their pockets, but people considered loudmouths had no less need for it, since those used to being overheard by everyone were often at a loss for how to make themselves heard by someone. The physical distance between two people using a string was often small; sometimes the smaller the distance, the greater the need for the string.

The practice of attaching cups to the ends of string came much later. Some say it is related to the irrepressible urge to press shells to our ears, to hear the still-surviving echo of the world’s first expression. Others say it was started by a man who held the end of a string that was unraveled across the ocean by a girl who left for America.

When the world grew bigger, and there wasn’t enough string to keep the things people wanted to say from disappearing into the vastness, the telephone was invented.

Sometimes no length of string is long enough to say the thing that needs to be said. In such cases all the string can do, in whatever its form, is conduct a person’s silence" (Nicole Krauss).

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

A collection of sporadic thoughts and pictures

"Aubrey! How is Hawaii? How come you haven't updated your blog? I want to hear all about your adventures!"

I feel like I've repeated all my stories at least 7 times, so instead we will have the things in my head.
Enjoy. Or try to at least :)

Tristan and I... "paying attention" during New Student Orientation

I'm officially in Hawaii. 

It's funny, how much you learn about yourself once you are completely on your own.

For example: I like having everything in an organized place. The only thing that bothers me about the dorm (so far) is the fact that my cabinet is just two huge shelves, and not anything to really separate my stuff. So I just have little piles, of books, lip gloss, and toiletries.

And this sounds crazy cliche, but more about who I am. Like today after church I was talking to some people and someone said, "Wow, you are just super optimistic." Then another girl said, "Yeah! She's just a big ball of sunshine!" "Oh, that's the perfect way to describe you Aubrey! A great big ball of sunshine!"

I mean, I always had people say I was happy, and enthusiastic, and friendly, but I think in those social situations I was just more aware of it and trying to be like that. But in this situation I was just invested in getting to know people, and that is just how I came across. I realized that that is me! That is my personality and you know, I love it. I love me.

New hikes with new friends Sierra and Celeste

I have always thought that the song, "The Gambler" by fun. was the most romantic love song. Ever.

And ever since hearing it, especially when I'm listening to it alone engrossed in my thoughts, I've always wanted someone to kiss me on the eye.

At a waterfall in a natural pool after our exhausting 4 hour hike

Have you ever seen that episode of Sponge Bob (stop it. I realize I'm referencing Sponge Bob, but stay with me here) where Squidward decides to move out of Bikini Bottom? He finally does, into a gated community where there are only squids and everyone lives in the same house. At first he thinks its so handy dandy because there's no Sponge Bob and Patrick to bug him. And they have bread in a can and he gets to play his oboe. But then, slowly he realizes that everything isn't as picture perfect at it seems, and soon the monotony wears on him and he just wants his old life back.

I just wonder if I'm going to be like that. Everything seems so perfect and wonderful. I live by a beach. A girl in my dorm offered to teach yoga literally right outside my door in the mornings for two bucks and she teaches at Turtle Bay for a heck of a lot more. I had a job interview for a MA position and cannot possibly contain my excitement. Right now, it is most definitely my dream job and I want it so bad. But is it gonna wear on me? Am I going to get sick of the beach?

I guess the most I can do right now is just wait and see :

This would have been a picture of us at the beach, but my camera is MIA, so instead this is Jen and I enjoying class  :)

But really, truly, honestly, I love everything about this place. I love going to the cafeteria, and ask the Asians what they are eating because they are so clever with their food combinations and make the healthiest and yummiest things (sandwich with hummus, cucumbers, and tomatoes, check). I love opening every single class with a prayer. I love walking to class and it randomly raining. I love the beautiful spirit here and that the holy ghost is truly with me every minute. I love going to the caf and staying there for two hours because I've just been there talking with whomever I decided to sit by that day. I love the diversity of everything. I love eating breakfast with a Tahitian  learning psychology from a Tongan, trading notes with a Venezuelan, getting lunch with a Trinidadian, then watching Hot Rod with an Australian.

Beaches, hikes, and beautiful scenery aside, I love this place, so much.

We couldn't find any cups for our smoothies, so we put them in wine glasses.

Sunday, September 9, 2012


-I told Matthew that I hated it when people say I'm sorry in certain situations. Such as, "I didn't get enough sleep last night." The person who is appologizing had nothing to do with your lack of sleep, but shouldn't there be a socially acceptable response instead of this? Wise Matthew simply paused, then said, "Maybe they're sorry that they can't do anything to help, when they really really want to." Sometimes I love that kid.
-I get headaches
-I would wear dresses everyday if I could
-I call someone to ask them a simple question, and end up chatting for at least 30 minutes. I love unexpected conversations the very best.
-I have to re-read this because it's easy to forget.
-My favorite place to walk along the beach is right where the water meets the shore. I love the feeling of the water coming up at your feet and washing away any imprint you left in the sand.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Today as I sat on my back porch eating peaches while reading picture books, the thought occurred to me, 
"A good thing is coming to an end."

But then, with a smile, I realized, 

"But a great one is about to begin."

Monday, August 27, 2012

This Summer (photos)

1) Because photos are more interesting
2) Because there are too many stories to type without getting carpal tunnel
3) Because I have a heck of a lot of cleaning to do
4) Because there are so many things I want to blog about, but have no idea how to get the words out.

So instead, I present to you the wonderful people I've spent my summer with.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Looking up grilled cheese recipe's, while listening to TED, and chatting with friends I haven't talked to in a while.

Is this the sign of growing up, or just pure insanity?

Also: I part my hair in the middle, wear glasses, and own a laptop.


Tuesday, July 31, 2012

I love her because- Miss Bee

  • she is one of the most creative people I know. More creative than Pintrest!
  • she is constantly serving others. Whether it's making a cute project for them, a yummy treat, or cleaning. Especially cleaning.
  • we can call to ask a quick question, and end up talking for a half an hour
  • the only rules she plays by are her own
  • she has the best laugh
  • she is supportive in everything I do
  • she truly has such an incredible testimony of Jesus Christ and his gospel. She loves it and wants to share it with everyone!

I love him because- Big Brother

  • when he lived close by, I would get random phone calls to make a new recipe, record a song, or play a new game
  • he has an enthusiasm for EVERYTHING
  • no matter our distance, he always keeps me laughing!
  • I get a new nickname from him every other day
  • he taught me to be friends with everyone
  • he has introduced me to the most amazing music
  • he has taught me that life is an adventure
  • I really hope that I can be a world traveler like him one day
  • he has shown me that, even if you start a little late, do what you love

I love her because- Belly

  • we steal each other's clothes. For some reason, no matter what, the others closet always seems cuter.
  • she supports me in my crazy ideas. Even though you can tell she most definitely doesn't want to
  • she stands up for me, in whatever situation
  • we can drive around, with the windows rolled down, and belting out our favorite songs
  • I always thought she was so much more beautiful than me. Then she taught me I was beautiful in my own way.
  • I can talk about boys for hours on end and she never gets bored of it
  • she can be sassy and joking one moment, and sincerely worried and concerned for my well-being
  • we think in the exact same way
  • she has the most hilarious blonde moments

I love him because- Chubby

  • he buys me old fashioned glazed doughnuts because those are my favorite
  • he fills up my car with gas randomly
  • he lets me use the scooter even if he wanted to
  • he illegally downloads movies for me
  • he will randomly dance with me
  • he often will say, "Aubrey, look at this!" with the excitement of a 5 year old. And most of the time it is worth looking at.

I love him. Partly because I have to. Mostly because I want to.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Life of a Scooterist

I've come to the conclusion that people are more likely to talk to you if you are on a scooter.

I don't know if it's the fact that there is less metal separating two people. Or that my windows are permanently rolled down. For some reason, people just feel socially obligated to talk to me. Which is funny because if you're at a stop light and you and the person next to you both have your windows rolled down, do you talk to them? No, you sit staring straight ahead, almost as if you stared at the light long enough, it's going to change faster.

Enough, this isn't a guilt trip about the lack of social interaction at stop lights.

Rather, it's about the social interaction that I've had at stop lights.

Maybe my physique has changed recently, but as far as I'm aware, I'm still the same little scooterist Aubrey.

Example one:
I'm at a stoplight when a van of 5-6 teenage boys pull up. Acting like... teenage boys. 


"Hey. HEY!"

I assume my stone faced position of staring straight forward, hoping they don't notice me sneaking a glance at them with my reflective aviators.


I turn and smile.
Bleh, what a waste of time. They're obnoxious, and none of them are cute.

"That's a nice ride"
"Oh, thanks. Yours too. Is it your mom's?"

*cue a green light, and me speeding off dramatically*

Example two:
I'm walking into a building after having just parked. When I park my scooter, I generally park in places that wouldn't be legal for cars ie. places with yellow lines or right close by a sidewalk because I have on more than one occasion experienced that frustration of thinking you found a parking spot, only to see a scooter or motorcycle occupying it.

Anyway. I had just parked when I walk in. I'm looking for the door I have to go to, when a man comes running up at full speed, flustered, and out of breath. 

"Ex-cuse. (pants) excuse, excuse me. Is that your scooter outside?"

I immediately freeze. Is there something wrong with my parking job? Oh fetch. I'm going to get  a ticket. They're gonna tow me. Wait, can you even tow a scooter? How the heck would that happen?
"Oh, uh, yeah."
He lights up. "Oh great. I was just wondering, how many cc's is it?"
I exhale a sigh of relief. "Oh, she's 150."
"Oh! Awesome. How fast can you usually go?"
"Hmm....  I can get up to 65, maybe 70 on University."
"Oh wow! Great! Thanks so much!"

Example three:
I pull up at a stop light next to a motorcycle. Let me paint this picture for you. This guy is hard core. Leather chaps, big physique, beard, awesome bandanna, relaxing like he's at a spa at this stoplight.

Timidly, I pull up in the lane next to him.

"Hey there little lady!"
"Nice paint job you have on that."
I glance down, and notice that we both have a silver body. "Oh, thanks."
"You like driving that thing?"
A smile. "Oh! Oh yeah, I love it."
"And I'll bet it's great for gas."
"Yeah,  that's why it's so great. It only costs me $5 to fill it up. I'd drive it everywhere if I could."
"Good on you sister."

*light turns green*

Last, but not least, example four:
I'm at the light, quickly alerting a friend that I'm on my way.

Note: it should be said that I'm an advocate of not texting while driving. That being said... WHILE DRIVING. I was stopped, at the light, knew it would be a longer cycle, and was just quickly letting a friend know I was coming. Don't text and drive. You'll die.

The light turns green, and I accelerate while sticking my phone in my purse and turning.

I'm driving down the road, when a car in the lane next to me drives by and the driver does a slow motion head nod.

The next time you are with me, have me tell this story in person because me acting out said head nod is a bajillion times better.

Bewildered, I begin going through numerous reasons as to why the heck he's nodding at me. My outfit? The way I just turned around the corner? Trying to discourage me from texting at stoplights?

It seems my questions would be answered at the next stop light. 

I stop, naturally, when Stranger Man pulls up in the lane next to me. 

"You're a natural."
"On your scooter. You're a natural."
"Oh, thanks!"
A sincere compliment? Or an attempt to hit on me?
"Yeah, you should get a real bike."
Hmmm okay, trying to find mutual interests. Hitting on me?
"Oh... I don't think my dad would let me."
"Oh, c'mon."
"Yeah, he calls them murder cycles."
"They're actually a lot safer, because they have more pipes you can hear them better."
"Oh that's my number one pet peeve! I mean, I'm driving a scooter, not an invisibility cloak!"
*light turns green*
"Well, see ya! Bye!"

Conclusion: People definitely talk to me more on my scooter versus my car or my bike. 

Not that I'm complaining. :)

Friday, July 20, 2012

It happened

Because life's too short

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Why I can't stop smiling

I wouldn't necessarily call it depression.

Rather, it was the absence of happyness. 

I feel like there are so many who had their turning point in high school. The point when they truly are converted to the gospel of Christ.

I am one of them.

My Sophomore year was a great year and a horrible year for me. 
There was the period where after I got my braces off that I actually felt like something.


Having a boyfriend only raised my self esteem and made me feel older, mature, and important.

That of course came crashing down when we broke up.

"Oh, the poor dear! A boy broke her heart!"

No folks, it was completely the other way around. 

I broke up with him.

I feel petty, writing about breaking up with a boy but it honestly was one of the hardest things I've done.

At the time, I had no idea why it had to be done. All I knew was that it hurt. It hurt a lot. And I sat on my tramp in my back yard, curled up in the fetal position crying. 

But this post isn't about some silly break up.

It's about what happened after.

You see, during the break up, something had happened. 

Because of all of my time had been dedicated to him, there had been no time for Him.

Not just Him, but my friends as well.

I felt like an awkward outsider who didn't belong.

I still had friends, people still talked to me. I still laughed and smiled and interacted with others. But there was just this feeling of lonliness. As soon as I was home, I just felt like no one cared. No one would care if I didn't go to school. Sure, they were nice when I was there, but would it really make a difference to them if I wasn't there?

I was there, on my bed every evening crying. Wondering why Heavenly Father would do this to me. I thought a lot. I asked Heavenly Father and learned to be fully reliant on him.

I never had a moment where one person reached out to me and said, "Aubs, I care." Rather, it was the opposite. It was me sitting there in my room and saying,
"Aubrey, right now you can go in two separate directions. You can sit here on your bed crying and feeling bad for yourself. Or, you can change.
You can grow! You can take this experience, look it over, and never go back. You can make the choice each day to stay depressed and upset. Or, you can decide each and everyday to be happy. You can walk these halls feeling like crap, but still being happy because we never want to feel this way again."

So it happened.

I changed.

And the funniest ting happened. 
Thanks to Him, I have never gone back.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

"He loves you too"

There were a few quiet moments last night after I said my prayers last night.
I was exhausted and found myself sitting on the floor after I had finished, not quite ready to close my eyes and say good-bye to the day.

There, during that small moment, I heard a voice, barely a whisper.

"He loves you too"

It was so profoundly simple. I hadn't asked for anything that night, rather quite the opposite.

I get into this mode of thinking very often. When I think about how I am so blessed, I often wonder why. Why do I have such wonderful friends and family? Why do I have so many earthly possessions? I think to myself, when I talk to Him and wonder to myself.

Perhaps I could not have quite so many people love me? I mean, I'd still keep some, but not ALL of them, so that way those people in the world who don't feel loved, can?

I think about the kids in Africa, or India, or any other third world country for that matter. How so many are abused, starved, and dying. Why are these poor children so underprivileged, when I have so much?

Then my sweet father will always remind me, "Aubs, you should only worry about those things you can control."

I used to get very frustrated with this. For me, it used to translate as, "Aubrey, there is nothing you can do,  so you should just stop."

Ah, but how silly my young immature mind was. It took a couple years, but I finally realized what this meant.

Heavenly Father blesses me, with so many wonderful people and things. Well, what can I control? How I respond?
Am I selfish and rude to my friends? Or can I be nice, and supportive?

Through this new mindset, I've opened my heart so very much. I feel such an overwhelming power of love wherever I am: at home, at school, at work. Because I put it there. Because I can control it.

I feel like these are rambling thoughts but hey, it's your own fault for deciding to read this in the first place. :)

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Give me a number, instead of a name

The seed was planted on Sunday.
The seed of my thoughts that I am about to share with you.

During Young Women's, it appeared there. Immediately I took out my notebook and wrote this down:
They are the number one identifier of a person.
Could you imagine what a world would be like without names?
"Hey..... you."
How many would react, thinking you meant them?
There is already such conformity in the world.
So without a name, how would we be identified?
How would we want to be identified?"

And that seed has been germinating all week.
Until today, at the temple.

Have you ever had a guest speaker in a class, or something like that, and they identified you by your clothes? I feel like this happens all the time.
"Yes.... uh, Red Shirt? Yes Red Shirt, can we get you to come up here?"

So in this hypothetical world my brain created, would we simply be identified by our appearance?

"Yes, Brown Hair with the color melt and Denim Shirt?"

Ha. Right.

I think that names easily go unnoticed. At least, that's how I was in my sheltered elementary school.
Like, those instances that I might mention a friend and based on their name, my parents would automatically make assumptions.
Like, Henry Lee. I still remember that day my dad asked if he was Asian.
"What? No!" 
I was appalled, whatever gave him THAT idea?
Because in my white dominate school, "Lee" was just another name that didn't appeal to a certain race. 

Appearance is too broad, so is it based on all the things you participate in?
"You know, she's the one that dances. And sings. And writes. And acts. And..."

Or, is by our personalities?
"Haven't you seen her? The really loud one in the hallway. She's always yelling."

Again, I pose this question:
How would you want to be identified?

"Surely you've noticed. That beautiful daughter of God? She is always smiling."

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Like Nelson, but with an S

I love these guys!