JIX:

Car singing 101

2012-01-27T17:41:00.005-07:00

In case you weren't aware, my favorite color is red.

Also, I have a hobby called Car Singing.

noun

an activity or interest pursued for pleasure or relaxationand not as a main occupation: Her hobbies include stamp-collecting and woodcarving.

I know what you're thinking, it should have said coin collecting right?

For cereal, have me show you sometime.

Moving on.....

Big Brother and Bells and I used to go on these lovely Sunday Drives that inevitably involved Jason wasting much gas and seeing who could sing the loudest and dorkiest.

Even after JKS moved, Belly and I continued this tradition and it is because of these drives that I have the adorable habitat of listening to my music a teeny bit louder than the norman human bean.

But I digress.

I had gotten so used to car singing, that when others joined in my car, they seemed quite startled by my stereo and voice box blaring. So, people of the world, I thought y'all should be edumacated in car singing.

How to Car Sing

By:Aubrey Noelle

1. Have a car. I'll try my best not to question where you suddenly came upon the Mercedes that you didn't have the day before, but I'll forgive you if we can get an ice cream cone from Mickey Dee's. While car singing.

2. Have a way to hook up an iPod, or for the less ghetto ones, actually have a CD player in your car. I suppose one could car sing to the radio. In theory, but, wouldn't you rather have a guaranteed playlist of good car singing songs?

Which brings up the next point.....

3. Have delicious car singing music. It can be anything. I mean, if loudly singing The Weepies or Enya is your thing, then man, go with it. I personally prefer the type of songs that make you want to sing. In fact, they absolutely demand you to sing at the top of your lungs while car dancing.

Some personal fav's include:

Good luck! What are your favorite car singing songs?

And if you ever need an example, feel free to car sing with me, anytime. :)

A new species

2012-01-04T21:10:00.002-07:00

Note: to be read in a British accent

And thus we see the unique creature, Chubby, who is native to this land in his natural habitat. Currently we can see him here eating his usual meal of ice cream straight out of the carton. He is performing his traditional "ice cream dance" all around his environment, the kitchen.

An interesting 32 years....

2012-01-02T19:47:00.003-07:00

"Sweetheart? I hate to bother you, because I know how busy you are...."

"Yes dear?"

"There are more leaves in our room than on our front lawn."

"Now, are you sure?"

"Well, last I checked.... So maybe we need to... rake our room...."

Gotta love em :)

The Living Christ

2011-12-30T09:40:00.002-07:00

In July or so, we got a new Young Women's presidency. Our president was young and wanted to tackle anything.

"Guys, Young Women's in excellence isn't until December, but I want each of us to do something different this time. Instead of just standing up and saying something we did for personal progress, I want each of us to pick something that will help us grow closer to Christ."

A week later.

"Oh, and we're memorizing The Living Christ."

If any of you know my Papa Smurf, you might know his knack for memorizing. In his mind are a plethora of inspiring poems, conference quotes, and scriptures. When we travel, all he brings is his phone and a conference transcript. In his phone, he has saved a list of quotes he wants to memorize, and one by one, by that end of the plane ride, he usually has knocked out ten or so.

So as my mother and I embarked on the daunting task to memorize such a large and sacred document, I hoped that maybe my dad's "sponge memory" would shine through.

It didn't.

It was more difficult than I hoped. We were supposed to memorize a paragraph every two weeks, and each Sunday I'd go to church feeling inadequate and unprepared.

As we go halfway through, a leader saw our struggle and invited us to go to her house each Sunday after church to practice together. We went over the parts we stumbled on, and made up silly signs for the things we couldn't remember.

For a few months, each morning when I got up, I recited The Living Christ along with a man reciting it in a podcast. Those early moments in my bathroom were, and are still precious to me. Simply because of the love of the Savior that I felt in there, his sweet spirit saying, "Aubrey, I am here. I am the Living Christ. I will always be here when you need me."

Last Wednesday the youth went to Temple Square. As we squished on couches surrounding The Christus, sweet Abbie leaned over and said, "Sister Clark? Could we recite The Living Christ in front of the Christus?"

After a thumbs up from the missionaries, we all stood up there, and began.

"As we commemorate the birth of Jesus Christ two millennia ago, we offer our testimony of the reality of His matchless life and the infinite virtue of His great atoning sacrifice."

Tears began welling up in my eyes as I stared around the room. I looked at the moon and the stars, the world beyond measure. I stood next to my Savior, as the realization filled my soul that of all the immeasurable people in this world, He knows me. He loves me. He will never forget me.

The words that I had uttered almost robotically for months now had a divine purpose, to bear testimony that He lives. That He is our Lord and Savior and that, after this holiday season, we can never be so foolish as to forget that.

"...Jesus is the Living Christ, the immortal Son of God. He is the great King Immanuel, who stands today on the right hand of His Father. He is the light, the life, and the hope of the world. His way is the path that leads to happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come.

God be thanked for the matchless gift of His divine Son."

Clean Blood

2011-12-25T15:10:00.001-07:00

Imagine this ...

You're driving home from work next Monday after a long day. You tune in your radio. You hear a blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. It's not influenza, but three or four people are dead, and it's kind of interesting, and they are sending some doctors over there to investigate it. You don't think much about it, but coming home from church on Sunday you hear another radio spot. Only they say it's not three villagers, it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb: people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it's the lead story. It's not just India; it's Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it, you're hearing this story everywhere, and they have now coined it as "the mystery flu." The President has made some comment that he and his family are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?"

That's when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen. And that's why that night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated into English from a French news program. There's a man lying in a hospital in Paris, dying of the mystery flu. It has come to Europe.

Panic strikes. As best they can tell, after contracting the disease, you have it for a week before you even know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. And then you die. Britain closes it's borders, but it's too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the following announcement: "Due to a national-security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing."

Within four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are People are wondering, "What if it comes to this country?" And preachers on Tuesday are saying it's the scourge of God. It's Wednesday night, and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and yells, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio!" And while everyone in church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made. Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital, dying from the mystery flu. Within hours it seems, this disease envelops the country.

People are working around the clock, trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as though it's just sweeping in from the borders.

And then all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been infected, and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood analyzed. That's all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.

Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line, and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your spouse and your kids are out there, and they take your blood and say, "Wait here in the parking lot, and if we call your name, you can be dismissed and go home." You stand around, scared, with your neighbors, wondering what on earth is going on, and if this is the end of the world.

Suddenly, a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, "Daddy, that's me." Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a minute, hold on!" And they say, "It's okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease. We think he has the right blood type."

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses are crying and hugging one another - some are even laughing. It's the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank you, sir. Your son's blood is perfect. It's clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine."

As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying. But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and we need... we need you to sign a consent form."

You begin to sign and then you see that the box for the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. "H-h-h-how many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades, and he says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared. We need it all!" "But... but... I don't understand. He's my only son!" "We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We... we... need to hurry!"

"But can't you give him a transfusion?" "If we had clean blood we would. Please, will you please sign?"

In numb silence you do. Then they say, "Would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?"

Could you walk back? Could you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Could you take his hands and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn't just have to be! Do you understand that?" And when that old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry, we've got to get started. People all over the world are dying," could you leave? Could you walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why... why have you abandoned me?"

And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even bother to come because they have better things to do, and some folks come with a pretentious smile and just pretend to care, would you want to jump up and say, "EXCUSE ME! MY SON DIED FOR YOU! DON'T YOU CARE? DOES IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?"

I wonder, is that what God wants to say? "MY SON DIED FOR YOU. DOES IT MEAN NOTHING? DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?"

The things we take for granted

2011-12-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

"I was born deaf and 8 weeks ago I received a hearing implant. This is the video of them turning it on and me hearing myself for the first time :)"

I have thoughts. They just change frequently.

2011-12-19T19:11:00.004-07:00

At least once a week someone walks up to me and says, "Aubrey, did you know I had a dream about you last night?"

It seems like it mostly began this school year.

Have I recently begun inhabiting people's dreams?

Or are people finally getting the courage to tell me?

"You know Aubs, I used to be really intimidated."

"You? By what?"

"You."

"Pardon?"

"No, it's not bad. It's just like, there's so much Aubrey to handle when someone meets you for the first time. They don't know what to do with it all. It's really overwhelming. So you're kinda scared of it, and so I was intimated by you.

But it's cool. Because we're friends now."

When I was three I watched "The Wizard of Oz" for the first time.

I've made a promise to myself. My children will not be allowed to watch it until they are.... 8.

Maybe 10.

I saw the tornado, and that did it. In my young adolescence, I was immediately scarred.

I'm sure if my mother would have known the numerous traumatizing experiences that movie caused, I would have had to wait until I was ten too.

Folks, I was scared of the wind. Not a boogie monster, not some creepy thing under my bed. If a slightest breeze blew, I was clinging to the nearest stable thing. Whether that be a light pole, my father's leg, or in the best occasion - my primary teacher's waist.

Olivia technically isn't my first car.

You know, the white one with the red peace sign and cute seat covers.

For two blissful weeks, I owned a red car.

I love the color red.

She was a stick shift. I had never driven a stick shift before, but my dad in all his adorable love and patience, agreed to teach me.

That first time I drove it around the neighborhood I stalled what felt like every 20 seconds. By the end of it my poor father had whiplash.

Two days later, he got up and told me, "Why don't you drive yourself to school?"

I was absolutely terrified. "Daddy, what if I stall?"

"Then you'll just start it again."

At the time, it seemed so simple. But that was still so reassuring. If I failed to do something right, I could start over, I could try again.

I was coming home from work that fateful evening. I somehow stalled on the extremely steep 25 degree incline of my driveway. I slowly inched forward and somehow was veering off to the right. After stalling three times, frustrated, and tired from mopping and making sandwiches, I gunned it.

Straight into the side of my garage.

I pulled on the brake and swung open the door - car still running - to a large mass of smoke.

Before someone could say "Cue tears" I was running inside hysterical.

"Are you okay? Are you okay?"

My mom and Jason came running up to me.

I nodded and merely pointed outside to where the damage waited.

I sat on the stairs, my head in my hands as I stared at the tan carpet slowly grow dark from the tears running down my cheeks.

I heard the door open several times as Jason and my mom ran outside and in grabbing garbage cans, brooms and rags to clean up the glass and oil sprayed in my garage.

I couldn't think clearly. All I can remember is my tears. Perhaps it was the combination of hormones and teenage boys. I was absolutely hysterical, and I couldn't seem to fathom why.

My mom walked inside, put her arm around me and said, "Maybe you should go to bed."

I went upstairs, and immediately sat on my floor and informed my friends of my recent car crash.

The two minutes in-between their responses was too long and I simply laid my head down on the ground. I laid there for a half hour or so, as my chest bobbed up and down and my heart beat way too fast. I couldn't sleep.

My mom suggested I get a blessing.

I felt silly, and I walked down the stairs.

You get blessings for illnesses, for sickness.

I realized, as I sat in my parents dark bedroom, on the edge of their bed that that didn't matter.

All I needed was peace. All I needed was that sweet reassurance that "this too shall pass" and it would all be okay.

And my dad was able to give me just that, simply by being worthy and prepared when I woke him up late at night.

I'm only a child

2011-12-17T09:31:00.001-07:00

If you do not know how to fix it, please, stop breaking it.

The best days....

2011-12-16T14:27:00.002-07:00

The one, the only, The Miss Kim.

2011-12-13T22:08:00.004-07:00

"Hey Mom.... What voice is that?"

"My icky romantic one."

"Go get the synonym dictionary."

"Mom, you mean the thesaurus?"

"Yeah, whatever they call it these days."

"Don't worry Mom, you'll like him."

"Good. I hope I like all my son's in law."

"Yeah, he'll even laugh at your jokes."

"Well I hope he makes me laugh."

"He better!"

"Yeah, sense of humor was #3 on my list."

"Under worthy priesthood holder and desirous to go to the temple?"

"No, good kisser."

Hey, at least she's honest.

Child-like Eating Habitat's

2011-12-10T09:14:00.002-07:00

This morning I walked into my kitchen in the search of something delicious for breakfast, that would require little preperation. This criteria, naturally, let me to the cereal cupboard. I scanned the boxes, past the Cherrios and Rasin Bran, when two boxes caught my eye. Captain Crunch, or Cocoa Puff's? It was rather maddening, standing there, hungry and yet feeling particularly indecisive having recently woken up.

I chose the natural alternative: both.

When I was little, combining cereals was rather normal for me. It started one day when I picked up a box and poured it in only to see that there was only half a bowl full of cereal. This is the second worst thing that can happen to a cereal connisoure. The first being when you desperately hope that there is more cereal for you, but instead you are greeted with cereal dust.

I hate cereal dust.

Combining cereals was a game for me so when Daddy walked into the kitchen, and inquire after my breakfast I would chirpily respond, "Lucky Trix!"

Cereal, however, was not the extent of my ridiculous eating. I also enjoyed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with pickles on them. And I regularly (even in my mature adulthood) eat cereal with yogurt.

I suppose what I'm saying is, I'm rather glad that since the age of three, I was expected to get my breakfast and make my lunch myself. It made life a whole lot more interesting.

What quirky things did YOU eat when you were a lil' nugget?

A brief summation of my afternoon

2011-12-07T16:33:00.001-07:00

Della Park Loosli

2011-12-04T15:31:00.000-07:00

Our dear mother, Della Park Loosli, peacefully passed into the next life on November 19, 2011 at her home in Provo, Utah with her children by her bedside. She was born January 28, 1925 in Hibbard, Idaho to Amelia Gade Hooper and William Henry Park, the eighth of eleven children. She was raised by her widowed mother after her father died due to an accident when she was only ten years old. After high school, Del moved to Salt Lake City, where she attended LDS Business College and worked in a munitions factory while living in the Beehive House. She met our father, Laurence Jenkinson Loosli, who swept her off her feet at many a dance at Saltair, and later married him in the Salt Lake Temple on December 2, 1948.
While living in Salt Lake City, Del and Larry began their family. After serving in World War II, Larry reenlisted in the Air Force as a printer and Del accompanied him to Germany, then New York City, where she fell in love with the performances at Radio City Music Hall. The family moved next to Arizona, California and then back overseas to Japan for four years, where she taught English and learned the art of floral arranging and cake decorating. Their final assignment was Biloxi, Mississippi where she finished raising her four children and worked for a time as a florist.
After Larry retired from the Air Force, she worked long and hard to make their print shop, Loma Enterprises, a success. Following a second retirement in1993, they made their final home in Provo, Utah to be close to family where she became "Gigi" (G G for great grandma) to her grandchildren.
Her zest for life was contagious and she was game for any adventure, always enjoying dance. She had a great sense of humor and often made us laugh with her snappy comments. She had a soft spot for the youth and an ability to reach the shy and lonely. Most of all, she loved her family. She enjoyed her grandchildren and was their best cheerleader as she attended their many activities and performances.
Throughout her life she remained a faithful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, teaching her children and grandchildren to love the Lord and His Gospel. We are eternally indebted to her for our testimones. We love her and miss her.
Del leaves behind her children, Greg Loosli (Joy), Bruce Loosli (Rose), Kim Snelson (Brian), and Curt Loosli (Sherry), 25 grandchildren, 25 great-grandchildren, and one brother, Leonard Park.

Dear BYU, I couldn't say all of this.

2011-11-30T22:01:00.000-07:00

The Best Way To Spend My Summer

When I first walked into the floor, I was nervous and wasn’t sure what to expect. I felt like maybe I was in the way and didn’t belong there. But soon nurses, PCT’s, and therapists reached out to me and helped me feel included in several ways.

On my first day, I just stood there, scared to ask anyone what I should do, but one outgoing nurse, Fenise, soon had me getting meal trays, handing them to patients, and even sitting down and visiting with them. I soon discovered that all the patients had one thing in common: they loved to talk. Everyday at breakfast, I was invited to sit and tell about how I was “wasting my summer away in a hospital.” All of the patients had diverse and different pasts and I found myself drawn into the stories of their lives. Each week there was a new patient to meet, a new story to be heard, and a new friend to be made.

One important thing that my internship did was help me learn that I can relate to a variety of people. No matter how different from a person you may think you are, there is always something you can find in common. I found out during therapy that one of the patients loved to sing, something I am passionate about. He told me about all the places that he had traveled to and all the people he was able to work with as he sang in choirs and directed them.

I also became more empathetic. One of the patient, who was just a year older than me, crashed on his scooter, something I drive daily. I remember his first day in therapy, when the occupational therapist asked him a series of questions. They ranged from “How many days are in a week?” to “What happened in the Civil War?” As I watched him struggle to answer questions that would seem easy to most people, I found myself relating. His situation could have easily been mine if I hadn’t been wearing a helmet when I crashed on my scooter.

There was another patient who recently had his leg amputated due to diabetes. For over 70 years he had a perfectly functioning leg and suddenly because of one wrong slip with a nail clipper, he contracted an infection and he learned that he was going to lose his leg. And yet, he was incredibly upbeat and enthusiastic. Each morning, when I greeted him, my greeting would be returned with a resounding, “I slept horribly, but I’m alive!” Or in therapy, the therapist would ask, “Do you think you can do this?” and he would quickly respond, “Well, I can most certainly try!” In moments when I might feel frustrated with what I’m going through, I can always look back and remember his extremely optimist attitude during a very difficult time in his life.

I remember one patient who had a severe brain hemorrhage and lost most of her mobility. She was about the age of my mom each day I watched her struggle with the effects of this sudden impairment. One particularly hard morning, I was trying to encourage her to feed herself. We tried eating one thing at a time, first the grapes, then the eggs but she kept getting distracted. At one point, she started to cry because she hadn’t had her pain medication yet, and she was clenching the fork too hard. I gently rubbed her back, and massaged her hands to help her relax before the nurses could come. During the rest of breakfast she got frustrated and confused. At one point, I asked her what she wanted and she said, “Just to eat my breakfast in peace!” At moments like this, you could get frustrated and want to just leave. But this internship taught me that as the medical professional you have to patient and recognize that in this case, the patient is literally “not in their right mind” due to brain damage. You have to be very patient and understanding of what they are going through.

Overall, this internship gave me a whole new confidence within a hospital setting. I know how to behave properly around a doctor to show that I’m interested, but not get in the way. I learned how to interact with a variety of people, both patients and staff, and how to be a team player. Doing this internship was probably one of the best ways to spend my summer and I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to do this. Now I can’t wait to start my own medical career.

When the Snelson's get together....

2011-11-24T21:42:00.005-07:00

"What the heck? Why did I just hug Josh?"

"Hmmm..... sounds like a personal problem to me."

"Dad, ignore everything I'm about to say."

"I usually do."

"Grant, can you say crazy?"

"Cwazy"

"Good. Now say, Mimi is crazy."

"Dad said just to put him in a nice retirement home."

"What about Mom?"

"Mom's gonna be in a house next door. Probably attached."

"Just put a tunnel underneath. I'll wheel myself over in my wheel chair."

"Dad, I can't wear Kirkland jeans, and find a wife that you would approve of."

"Please make eye contact when I talk to you."

"You're not even making eye contact with me!"

"Oh yeah, sorry. I got distracted."

"Awww crap, I lost it."

"Boston? We lost Boston?"

"Hey, you saw that pregnancy test. You knew what you were getting yourself into."

"Hey, I just thought I had to keep you clean and fed."

"We can go horse back riding! Don't they have winter horses?"

"It's not a vacation if it's warm."

"Hmmm.... Well let's see. I have to speak in sacrament meeting that Sunday."

"Can't you just call in sick?"

"I hope everyone buckled up because I'm not the safest driver. Did everyone sign their consent forms and waivers?"

"Jeff, we really don't want you to be here. It was a much better three seconds without you."

"I think I might do some shopping myself..."

"Really Dad? What are you gonna go buy?"

"I'll probably get some fruit at Costco. Maybe pick up some eggs..."

"Chanelle I heard a story about you..."

"What? Stop it. It's not true. My little sister is here, and it probably can't be good."

"Stop texting! I just want to see your face."

"What does peanut gallery even mean?"

"It means no side comments. Like, no sassy things or I'll drop kick you in the face."

"Hi Aubs! Your-hair-is-pretty-do-you-have-a-boyfriend?"

"No siree"

"Yeah, but she could have any guy she wanted."

"I'm gonna... cut all your fingers off."

"Aubrey LOVES it when you tickle here. Keep doing that, you'll see how much fun she has. See? Look at her. Aubrey you having fun yet?"

"I swear Aubrey, if you're married right after high school I'm gonna punch your face. And lock you in a basement. With a dragon."

Laziness is.....

2011-11-15T17:08:00.000-07:00

Struggs....

2011-11-08T18:35:00.002-07:00

"Daddy, I need your help. I have to write about a personal struggle, but I can't think of one."

"Hmm... let's think for a moment.

Oh! I know!

You could write about how one time on the weekend we went to go eat some ice cream, but we had forgotten to buy some ice cream, and so we couldn't have ice cream that night.

That was definitely a major trial.

Or, that one day that Jason called to inform me that Costco was going to quit selling Otis Spunkmeyer cookie dough! Oh geez, that caused a fright."

"Fantastic Dad, thanks."

Disconnect from the world

2011-11-06T17:43:00.003-07:00

"When I was a little nugget..." I began.

"Aubrey, you are a little nugget."

"Okay, then when I was a little little nugget..."

You got through that stage in your life when you're trying to find out who and what you are. And you try to act a certain way and dress a certain way.

Then suddenly, you realized, that all you have to do is impress God. Show him how much you love him,. You read his words and love Him, and then all that other stuff doesn't matter anymore.

You don't have time for Heavenly Father and half-heartedly say your prayers at night. Then one night, you read your scriptures and say, "Heavenly Father, I read this. It's amazing. I can't believe I never noticed it before." And He says, "I know. I've been waiting. And I'm so glad you found this out."

When you're in that stage you are so worried about how you act. You are so disconnected because even if you're trying to be awesome, do you really feel that way? Do you really feel beautiful and confident in yourself?

That is why Heavenly Father is so grade. You can say anything. You can wear anything. The only thing that matters is your relationship with your Heavenly Father and all his children.

Because in the long run, we won't care if we wore a red shirt or a blue shirt that day.

Finding joy in the little things

2011-10-26T22:50:00.002-06:00

Tonight I wrote this in my grateful journal:
"When all the stress you have is slowly melted away and is replaced by a peaceful stillness."

A Fine Frenzy

2011-10-25T18:39:00.001-06:00

2011-10-25T16:24:00.001-06:00

"Josh, I'm just really glad we can be friends"

"Ummm yeah, about that...."

"What?"

"Well, I was wondering if maybe we could be more than friends."

"Woah there partner...."

"Like maybe, best friends!"

Life Lessons: Presented by Gandolfo's

2011-10-23T19:48:00.002-06:00

Laughter-

When JJ called Gandolfo's and asked, "Do you have a pizza?" for at least the tenth time.

Being considerate-

When a customer came in late one evening after I had already mopped half the lobby. When I do this, I block it off with chairs. This customer seemed to be oblivious to my well placed chairs, and simply went around it and walked on my freshly mopped floor.

To his horror he realized what he had done, and quickly ran up to the counter.

Flustered, he said, "I walked on your floor! I'm so sorry!"

"Oh, it's fine" I replied with a smile

"No, honestly. I'm really really sorry. Where's your mop?" Looks around. "Oh! Over there! Perfect."

"No, sir, really it's fine...."

Waves me off "You go make the sandwich, just let me mop this."

Kindness-

When a customer helped another customer picked a sandwich by pointing out another one on the menu he hadn't seen.

Happyness-

A woman and her husband walk in, and up to the register. The husband points to our sign announcing that we have gluten free things, and says, "That's what we're here for."

The husband quickly orders his sandwich. His wife is next. She carefully looks over the menu, asking questions, wanting to pick a good sandwich.

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "It's just, I haven't been able to have a sandwich in years."

Happily, and almost giddy she proudly said, "I need a knickerbocker please. Gluten free."

I rang up her order as she turned to her husband, so excited to have a sandwich.

"Wait, you have cookie's too?!?!?!"

I looked at the large platter of gluten free cookies, and after smiling and nodding at her, she turned to her husband.

He immediately said, "Well, looks like we'll have to get one of those too."

She looked like she was recently told she won the lottery, and was also going to Disney Land.

Love-

A couple were at the register and the husband says, "What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know, you pick."

"Alrighty. Can we get an Urban Cowboy?"

I ring it up.

"Oh honey, does that have barbecue sauce?"

"What?"

"Let's get the Hampton."

Smiling and laughing, he asks me to change the order.

Because he loves his wife.

Gratitude-

A woman walks in Gandy's and after ordering tells me, "I'll be coming in here a lot. My mom just got into Jamestown" [the old folk's home next door]

"Yeah," she confides "She just got diagnosed with Alzheimer's."

"Oh, have you heard of the book "Still Alice"?"

"What's that?"

"It's a book about a woman with Alzheimer's. It's in her perspective, and you can really relate. It's helped me a lot with my patients at the hospital."

This woman looked up at me. I could see it in her eyes.

Love. Fear.

Gratitude.

"I don't want to cry, but I want to let you know I appreciate that so much."

I could see it. She was so scared. Scared she would never completely ever have her mom back.

"Thank you. Thank you so very much."

Social Peer Pressure

2011-10-20T09:27:00.005-06:00

I had to giggle as I walked into school the other day. I was wearing a white top, white leggings, and a jean skirt. To top it off, a bright orange vest, tie, and beanie.

People stand in their cream lacy tops and cargo boots. At first I thought, "Yeah, they probably think I look crazy." But it seems like something else.

Wishing they could wear this?

"But," I thought, "They can."

Can they?

No.

Because they have done something. They have given into social peer pressure.

Why do they do it? I honestly wonder. Why do you have to care so much? I hate it when people can't be true to themselves. They're scared. Of what? Their friends not liking them.

But why be friends with them in the first place? You should be friends with someone not because they like your clothes or your car. You should be friends with someone because they like your personality. Because they genuinely care about you.

That's why I don't care what I wear. That's why I don't wear make-up. I wear what I wear because I like it. If someone doesn't like that, or doesn't like me as a result, then I just don't care.

I don't want to be around people that I feel I have to impress. I want to be around people who make me smile and feel good.

It's like I said in a text the other day,

"Who gave them the status of "popularity" anyway? When it all comes down to it, aren't we all just teenagers who worry about zits? We're all on the same journey, and we're all sons and daughters of God, our time would be better spent helping each other than worrying about if they like our outfits."

It's not every day you turn five

2011-10-17T22:18:00.002-06:00

Love

2011-10-16T09:31:00.003-06:00

Love

It's a tricky word to say.

I tell everyone I love 'em because I really do. It's like Kandy said,

"You can love others, because you love yourself"

So because of that I'm extremely open. I'm touchy, and tell all I love them.

But I really sincerely do.

I tell people I love them because I honestly think and believe they are great. Because I value their friendship.

I hug 1) because I love hugs. Honest to goodness. The best birthday present I can receive is a great big hug. Not a wimpy two second one. No, a good 15 seconds, when you hold 'em tight, as if to say, "You are wonderful. I care." 2) I love seeing people smile. And for me, I always feel fabulously happier after someone has given me a hug.

The best days are those when you walk through the hallway and you get stopped ten or so times to hug people, to yell, "I love you!" before quickly rushing off to class.

And then there's my mom.

"You say I love you too much. It's something you say but don't mean it."

Don't I?

There are so many good, beautiful, wonderful people, and it would be such a waste if we didn't love one another.

So isn't the best way to feel loved, is to let others know?

Example: my brother doesn't tell me he loves me. At first, I though, eh, he's in a hurry to say it before he hangs up.

But! I tried saying it, and never received a response.

So I think, maybe he really doesn't like me. He's always teased me the most.

"Chubby, why don't you say you love me?"

"I did."

"That was two years ago...."

"Yep. I'll let you know if it changes."

Thanks brother, I love you too.

-This is called Aubrey's mind rambling.

El fin.

Unique

2011-10-13T15:45:00.003-06:00

I found this photo while aimlessly browsing the internet

Everyone one of us is talented in a unique and wonderful way.

It is our job to go out there, and find it in everyone.

But most importantly,

in ourselves.

2011-10-09T14:17:00.002-06:00

"Beautiful"

he whispered as if telling me an intimate secret

Then, and now

2011-10-05T21:19:00.003-06:00

When I was a freshman

I decided that for one day I would keep track of all the compliments I received that day.

I was wearing a long pink maxi dress, the first of my collection, with a white shade shirt, and silver necklace. As I walked to my English class, I recall those who smiled and called me beautiful. I quickly rushed to my table to pull out my little notebook with the brown cover and little blue flowers. Turning to a blank page, I quickly wrote down the few people who had said things to me word for word to cherish them forever.

I felt on top of the world that day. I just felt so happy and bright and it seemed that every new thing I wrote in that notebook added to that widening smile on my face.

The thought occurred to me, "Can't I feel this way ALL the time?"

The other day

I thought it might be fun to keep track of how many times I'd smiled that day. Not just me, sporadically breaking out into smile, but genuinely smiling because of someone's kind actions.

I woke up, energized and feeling excited to embark on my quest. As my phone turned on while I brushed my teeth, I received a couple text messages. A good morning from Miss Lauren, a quick "Love you, Night!" from my mom, and a student counsel text ending with, "Thanks! You're great!" As I read this with my tooth brush hanging lopsidedly in my mouth, a smile crept across my face.

"Oh!" I quickly thought. I ran in my room, but no notebook. "Hmmm... I'll do that... later."

Then I walked into school. From the front door there was just a huge smile on my red lips. Mckeey-Dee warmly greeted me, other late comers quickly greeted me before rushing off to class. In my first period there were whispered greetings, sweet compliments, and other words of love.

By 4th period I'd given up.

I simply couldn't keep track of all the times someone made me smile.

Why?

Because it happens so frequently. There are always hugs, there are always sweet words, there is always that love of Christ so abundantly present in your life, that simply, how could you be upset?

Dear Freshman Aubrey,

I know that you feel insecure. That when a boy called you beautiful, it makes your entire week. But you know something? That's not going to matter as much. All that will matter is the love you feel. The love that you feel from others from the way that they genuinely ask how you are. From the way that they hug you.

And you know something else? You don't even have to wear make-up for a guy to say you're beautiful. It's simply the way you present yourself. If you feel beautiful, then you are.

Love,

Seni-man Aubrey

Carol of Joy

2011-10-02T17:10:00.000-06:00

Music is easily one of my biggest inspirations

Moms: our number one fans, our number one worriers

2011-10-02T13:05:00.001-06:00

"Hello?"

"Hey Aubs, are you okay?"

"....uh yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Well I heard that there was a scooter crash today on Canyon Road."

"Oh, uh huh.."

"And I thought maybe it was you. Since you drove the scooter today."

"Mom, the scooter's at home."

"What?"

"The scooter. It's at home."

"Are you sure?"

"....uh, well, since I'm in my car right now, yeah."

"Oh! Well good! But don't talk on the phone and drive! That's bad! So I'll let you go! Love you bye!"

":) love you Mom. Bye."

She drives for a relationship, he's lost in the transmission.

2011-09-25T16:24:00.000-06:00

By: Dave Berry

Contrary to what many women believe, it's fairly easy to develop along-term, stable, intimate, and mutually fulfilling relationship with a guy. Of course this guy has to be a Labrador retriever. With human guys, it's extremely difficult. This is because guys don't really grasp what women mean by the term relationship.

Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a veryloud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Roger is thinking:... so that means it was... let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means... lemme check the odometer... Whoa! I am way over due for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

COMMUNICATIONS GAP

And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.

And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my school girl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...

"Roger," Elaine says aloud.

"What?" says Roger, startled.

"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have... Oh God, I feel so..." (She breaks down, sobbing.)

"What?" says Roger.

"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."

"There's no horse?" says Roger.

"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.

"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It's just that... It's that I... I need some time," Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can,tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one tha the thinks might work.)

"Yes," he says.

A BEFUDDLED BEAU
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says Roger.

"That way about time," says Elaine.

"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)

"Thank you, Roger," she says.

"Thank you," says Roger. Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
(This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)

IT'S ANALYSIS TIME

The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and every thing he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression,and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"

We're not talking about different wavelengths here. We're talking about different planets, in completely different solar systems. Elaine cannot communicate meaningfully with Roger about their relationship anymore than she can meaningfully play chess with a duck. Because the sum total of Roger's thinking on this particular topic is as follows:

Huh?

But the point I'm trying to make is that, if you're a woman, and you want to have a successful relationship with a guy, the No. 1 tip to remember is: 1. Never assume that the guy understands that you and he have a relationship. The guy will not realize this on his own. You have to plant the idea in his brain by constantly making subtle references to it in your everyday conversation, such as:
-- "Roger, would you mind passing me a Sweet 'n' Low, in as much as we have a relationship?"
-- "Wake up, Roger! There's a prowler in the den and we have a relationship! You and I do, I mean."
-- "Good News, Roger! The gynecologist says we're going to have our fourth child, which will serve as yet another indication that we have arelationship!"
-- "Roger, inasmuch as this plane is crashing and we probably have only about a minute to live, I want you to know that we've had a wonderful 53 years of marriage together, which clearly constitutes a relationship."

Never let up, women. Pound away relentlessly at this concept, and eventually it will start to penetrate the guy's brain. Some day he might even start thinking about it on his own. He'll be talking with some other guys about women, and, out of the blue, he'll say, "Elaine and I, we have, ummm... We have, ahhh... We... We have this thing." And he will sincerely mean it.

The next relationship-enhancement tip is: 2. Do not expect the guy to make a hasty commitment. By "hasty," I mean, "within your lifetime." Guys are extremely reluctant to make commitments. This is because they never feel ready.

"I'm sorry," guys are always telling women, "but I'm just not ready to make a commitment." Guys are in a permanent state of nonreadiness. If guys were turkey breasts, you could put them in a 350-degree oven on July Fourth, and they still wouldn't be done in time for Thanksgiving.

The Girl

2011-09-18T14:04:00.002-06:00

WARNING: a result of post nap delirium

Hair cascades down the table like a waterfall.

Dark curls, full and round.

Soft as a robins feather, beautiful as an angel.

Her head, tilted sideways.

Blushing cheeks, red and round.

A slight smile, on the edge of her lips. Like a secret is there, waiting to be told.

Her arms are elegantly crossed under her head.

Her flowing gown reaches the floor, grazing her petite bare feet.

Her eyes are closed.

And not one breath escapes her lips.

Betcha didn't know...

2011-09-17T12:45:00.001-06:00

I like my cookie dough BEFORE the chocolate chips are put in.

9/11

2011-09-11T18:49:00.004-06:00

I was in second grade. It was a normal day. I was walking to the bus stop. As I walked up, all the other kids are talking.

"Did ya hear?" A wise 5th grader asks.

I feel like this is a joke. I'm gonna ask what they're talking about and they'll make fun of something I said.

"What ya eatin' under there?"

"Under where?"

"Ha! You're eating underwear!"

"Heard what?"

"The towers. A big plane crashed into two towers."

I don't know about you, but as a little girl in 2nd grade, I automatically hear the word tower and think of a castle. Like, a princess locked in one.

"They're on fire."

My confusion rises. Don't dragons set towers on fire? Planes don't even produce fire.

Our bus comes.

"Did you hear did you hear?"

There's a buzz on the bus as everyone talks about the planes.

The bus driver isn't listening to country music, instead she's listening to a man talk.

I get bored and look outside.

In class Mrs. Holbrook explains, "A plane crashed into some buildings in New York."

New York?

Why had I heard that before?

Chad. Chad was in New York a few weeks ago.

The TV is on mute. we see images of fires, people crying, and fire trucks.

"Mrs. Holbrook, why did the man do that?"

"I don't know."

The summer before 5th grade.

We are in New York on a church history tour.

"Alright guys, we have one day, what should we do?"

I'm the baby. Somehow the decision was made that we would go to ground zero.

What the heck was a place with no ground?

We went and Chanelle and I were holding my daddy's hands so we wouldn't get lost.

We looked out big windows. There was a big lot. Full of ash and charred wood. People were crying.

"Aubs, you see that over there? That's the World Trade Center. This is where 9/11 happened."

It suddenly clicked. 9/11 was suddenly very real to me. Before it was just pictures on TV, letters to the fire fighters I had written. Songs about freedom I had sung. Everything was real.

This was where some people died. I looked at my brothers and sisters and imagined what it'd be like if they were gone.

"Mom, do you remember where you were?"

"I was in the kitchen. That phone rang. It was grandma. I didn't believe her. I thought she didn't know what she was talking about. It seemed too crazy."

A poem by Chanelle, 5th grade.

Thank You

When I first heard what happened I didn't understand. Then I watched selfless Americans.

I'd like to say,

THANK YOU

I watched so many people help, rescue, comfort, and recover. All the firefighters, policemen, and doctors. They are all great heros brave and strong.

I'd like to say,

THANK YOU

To all the people that were on the plane that sacrificed their lives, to save many others.

I'd like to say,

THANK YOU

To the people who are helping dig through the debris recovering bodies. Never giving up.

I'd like to say,

THANK YOU

Friends? Stalkers? Halloween Costume?

2011-09-08T15:28:00.001-06:00

2011-09-06T15:12:00.001-06:00

"I march to the drum of no one, other than God"

Inspired from a Facebook conversation

2011-09-04T20:15:00.002-06:00

One thing that bothers me is how people fail to realize how superb they are.

In these times, it's easy to dwell on what you aren't.

"I'm not in A Capella"

"I'm not in that AP class"

"I'm not pretty enough"

"I'm NEVER getting asked to Homecoming"

I desire so much to go up to everyone.

To stare into their eyes.

Eyes are the biggest give away to anyone. They can say they're fine, but you look in their eyes.

Sadness

Hurt

And just a ting of regret

Oh but when they look back. When they open their heart to you. You can see it.

The light of Christ.

I wish I could walk up to one of my brothers and sisters in the Gospel. To hold their hand and say, "You are extraordinary. God has blessed you with unique and wonderful talents for you to bless someone's life. You are a child of the divine creator, and therefore, so talented and amazing."

That's what makes me the saddest. When you see someone, a friend, colleague, a.q. And they have forgotten who they were, and let Satan tell them who he wants them to be.

Oh everyone, please do not forget your infinite worth. Please love, and respect this beautiful gift of life.

And please, know that I love you, and my arms are forever open for a hug.

What's in a name?

2011-08-21T09:04:00.006-06:00

Aubrey- Named after this song. It was my daddy's favorite in high school, and I guess decided to save the best for last. I tell people that it is my song, and well it literally is my song.

When I was little, my friends joked about my wedding day. They said that my husband would either sing, "Wild Thing", or "Aubrey." Depending on how much he liked me :)

One of my favorite things about my name is that it's literal definition is, "Ruler of the elves."

Noelle- After Brooke Michele was born, my mom decided she liked the sound of -elle names as middle names. But then Chanelle was born, and instead of Chanelle being her middle name, she made it her first "Because it was prettier." Thus why I call Chanelle Miss Janae, and the tradition was partially kinda broken :)

Snelson- Let's get one thing straight, I really do love my last name. There's a little pang in my heart for the day I get married. Secretly, I hope that my husbands last name is Nelson. Just imagine it real quick. Check.

Even though people often look at my last name like it's a foreign language (Swedish, thank you) and I've had it pronounced a myriad of ways, I've gotten over it that not everyone can pronounce something properly. "Yes Sister... S. Nelson" (I just want to ask, what kind of a name is that?) "Hi is... Mrs. Nelson there?" (Nope, thanks for asking!)

I'm a Snelson. And proud of it.

Aubrey Noelle Snelson

She-who-must-not-be-named

2011-08-14T08:52:00.000-06:00

“Hiya, babe! I’m Emily!” gushed a full-figured brunette, her bubble gum smacking loudly between her pearly white teeth. “It’s sooooo fabulous to finally meet you.” She turned to my brother and, with serpentine precision, tightened her manicured fingers around his arm. Her voice was piercing as she squealed, “Trevor has told me so much about his darling little sister!” She successfully reached a pitch that is only audible to canines.

I think it is important to note that I generally dislike emotional generalizations like “love at first sight” and “immediate dislike.” However, I now understand the place cliché holds in awkward first meetings. From minute one, I did not like her. I did not like her one bit. Her fluttering eyelashes made me dizzy. The flighty and flirtatious giggle exploding out of her heavily glossed lips made me nauseous. Her excessively strong, ten-dollar perfume made me want to puke. As decided by my dramatic ten year-old brain, being in her presence was more than I could bear. I could not stand her. Death would be more pleasurable than her unfortunate company.

I was doodling in my sixth grade history class one day, and instead of coloring my map of Mesopotamia, I drew a picture for Trevor. It featured an oversized crimson heart and the words “I LOVE MY BROTHER!” smeared across it in black Mr. Sketch. When I gave Trevor my artistic masterpiece after school, he praised it and immediately hung it on his ceiling. That way, he explained with a smile, he could look at it as he fell asleep.

Unfortunately, the attention-hungry Emily was not as touched by my gesture. In fact, she was infuriated when she saw my banner hanging above Trevor’s bed. She couldn’t stand that his last conscious thought before drifting to sleep revolved around the comforting admiration of his sister, and not his girlfriend. My brother did love Emily, but not as much as he loved me. Why, Emily must have thought, would he want to spend time with his stupid… SISTER… She probably spat the horrid word and stomped it into the pavement under her knee-high pleather boots. Why would he rather be with her than me? Trevor and I have always had a fantastic relationship, despite the fact that he always calls “age-has-priority” when I want to sit in the front seat. Emily hated my sixth-grade guts for this reason, and she wanted to strip him from me. Thus began the war of the women in Trevor’s life.

I can almost imagine Emily sneaking into his room with a manila folder under her arm and a roll of scotch tape gripped in her fierce claws, her teeth bared in frightful determination. Trevor’s bed squeaks as she clambers onto its frame. I can see her back straighten and her precariously balanced form stretch toward the ceiling. From the manila folder, she extracts her revenge. Then, as quietly as she had entered our house, she leaves.

“SHE DID WHAT?” I cried. My eyes widened in disbelief. My mouth went dry.

“Come look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Trevor chuckled. I could not understand how he found this situation amusing. I did not find it funny at all, not one bit. As I stumbled down the hall to Trevor’s bedroom, I heard traces of Emily’s shrill laughter reverberating off the walls, and my heart beat quickened. I reached Trevor’s door and curled the fingers of my right hand around the brass knob. With a slight turn, the door creaked open. I slipped through the crack. I was in.

And there it was.

Savagely taped on top—not next to, but ON TOP—of where my drawing should have been was an enlarged photograph of Emily’s face. Her two front teeth were the size of my thumbs, such was the magnitude of the poster. Her lips were curled in a successful sneer, the impact of which was enhanced by her sparkling eyes. They were cooing he’s mine, Megan. He is mine. I will take him, and you will never see him again… Static video clips of real-life events quickly joined these imagined words. She was sobbing on our carpet because Trevor wouldn’t let her paint his fingernails an obnoxious flamingo pink. She was sticking out her bottom lip in a disgusting pout, yet again. The next moment, she was bubbly and flitting around our house like Glinda the Good Witch. She was lovely and endearing; who wouldn’t adore her? And then, she was pulling me aside and hissing at me, telling me to stay away from my brother. These memories came bursting into my head like fireworks until I could not endure them any longer. I let out a frustrated growl that built into a window-breaking scream. “She is absolutely insane!” I roared. “How on earth can you be dating her?” Trevor flashed that smile again, and he chuckled softly, his eyes cast to the floor. “She’s not half bad, Meg. I like her…”

It was impossible for me to like her. She was the Voldemort to my Harry Potter. She had tried to kill me, I survived, and now I could only wait for a final showdown. My family backed me up by jokingly calling her “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” However, to me, this female specimen was nothing to joke about. She was an evil wizard when it came to devious behavior; I was just a battle-worn student in tattered robes, limping blindly through my counter-attack. I was in way over my head. However, I knew that I had to get my brother back somehow. It was just a matter of logistics. How could I get Trevor to see the demon I saw? How could I free my brother of the flattery he had imbibed so readily?

It turned out that a stick of butter and a crummy transmission would solve all of my problems. One night, my family, and the parasitic Emily, decided it might be fun to watch a movie. Trevor volunteered himself to make the popcorn, and Emily offered to stand in the kitchen and watch him work. My parents gave me “the nod,” which meant I would be resuming my appointed role as chaperone to the sick lovebirds, a calling that I hated above all else. I inconspicuously peered over the counter, memorizing their every move. With every pass her fingers made through his hair, I cringed. Her giggles were masked by the sound of dancing popcorn kernels, but they were still audible to my poor ears. Then, salvation quickly came.

Trevor pulled away from Emily and stalked into the family room, pretending not to see me crouched between the counter barstools. He explained to my parents that we were out of butter. This was not a tragedy, they replied, for Trevor could easily drive to a church member’s house several blocks away and borrow some. Trevor and Emily grabbed the keys to Emily’s white Volvo and were almost out the door when Trevor yelled back, “Wait, which house is theirs again?” I will be grateful for this question forever, for it was then that my parents replied, “For goodness’ sake, take your sister with you. She knows where it is.”

I hopped in the backseat of Emily’s manual transmission coupe and slid into the middle of the bench. Emily sat in the passenger’s seat, tapping her fingernails restlessly on the center console, waiting for Trevor to place the keys into the ignition and start the car.

We were speeding through my neighborhood, and something happened. Trevor did something wrong. At the time, I did not know what it was. I am not positive that I understand even now, with my limited knowledge of stick shift. However, the car stalled. It convulsed a few times and then came to a grateful stop. Emily hit Trevor’s arm playfully and howled his name. Her lips formed a strong pout.

“Why did you do that, baby?” came her question. “You’re going to wear out my poor transmission.” She painfully drew out the “n” in a grating whine. Trevor threw back a comment about how he didn’t mean to and then softened with a quick, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Emily stated firmly. “My car doesn’t like that. It doesn’t like that at all. It is very upset right now, Trevor John.” From my place in the vehicle, I had a perfect seat for the histrionic freak show that was taking place.

“Kiss the dashboard,” Emily demanded. Trevor wrinkled his nose and shot her a quizzical glance. What on earth? I wondered. The two Botts children sat in stunned silence. Then, the words came again, this time with more force. “Kiss. The. Dashboard.”

“No, Emily,” Trevor replied, “that’s dumb. I’m not going to kiss your dashboard.” I crossed my legs, leaned back in my seat, and smiled at the ceiling.

Emily’s face turned to marble for a brief second, and then she exploded into fury. Her voice became frantic. She cried out, “TREVOR! My car is very upset right now. It would help GREATLY if you would just KISS THE…!”

“Get out, Megan,” Trevor interrupted. “We’re walking home.” I un-clicked my seatbelt and slinked out the door, missing the last words that Trevor said to Emily. She was shrieking, “Kiss it! Trevor, KISS IT!” as she removed herself from the car and stormed around the hood. With a wild cry, she launched herself at Trevor and began pounding his chest with her fists like a crazed Barbary ape. Lifting her head skyward, she screamed with space-expansive force, sending the terrified moon clambering behind the distant mountains. Jumping into the driver’s seat, she drove off, leaving us in a cloud of dust and exhaust.

“Well, she’s bipolar… isn’t she?” Trevor mumbled, as he turned back in the direction of our house. His Etnies slid along the sidewalk in a dejected shuffle.

“More like octi-polar,” I quipped. His lips spread into a soft smile.

He one-upped me with, “More like mentally unstable,” and his face broke out into a huge grin. I hadn’t seen that same carefree grin for quite some time.

He pulled me safely under his protective arm and slowed to match my gait.

“You know what?” I giggled. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

I'm GRATEFUL

2011-08-10T14:56:00.004-06:00

While blog stalking, I came across this post by my Miss Emma.

She got one photo, and looked for 25 things in it she was grateful for.

Challenge accepted!

I went into photo booth, then asked my mom "Pick a number 1-150" and came up with this little beauty :)

Taken last winter after we went sledding, thus Tate's bed head, and my braids :)

I'm grateful for all these lovely people. Preston, Scout, and Tate. They are all such wonderful friends (as are most of you guys :) ) who are so strong. I was telling Lauren, "I'm so grateful for all my friends Lo. I mean, we're friends, but we're friends in the gospel too."
I don't know if you can tell, but on the left is my aquarium. Flip, I love that thing. When I was little, I'd hide in the cupboards from my dad. I remember when I was finally allowed to stand on the stool all by myself, and pour in the shrimp/kelp mixture to watch my fix hungrily devour it. I am grateful for my aquarium, and all the memories that come with it.
I'm grateful for my fire place. It's over on the right, and when I was a lil' nugget, I would perform on it. Thus started my singing/dancing/acting career. Such a wonderful stage.
I'm grateful for my mouth in it's current condition. It sounds silly, but after you've had 20 teeth extracted, 8 or 9 oral surgeries, and two years with braces, you become grateful you're not getting ready or recovering with something orally.
I'm grateful for that necklace I'm wearing. You can't see, but it's a lock I got in Virginia at an antique store. I was with my sisters, and we found this lock. From 1896. And on the back, it says "For Mary." So now, it's destiny for me to name my child Mary, and bequeath it unto her.
With Tate and Preston in this picture, I am so grateful for the priesthood. I think we often take this for granted, since most of us have father's blessings at the beginning of the school year. But year after year, my mom always reminds us, "Kids, be so grateful there is a worthy priesthood holder in this house. Because you all know, I didn't have these blessings when I was younger." Then we all sigh, and say "Yeah, we know mom."
Even though it's technically not pictured, I'm grateful for my computer and a built in web cam. Last night, I talked to my brother face to face via Skype for the first time in over a year. Me and my parents were surrounded around the computer, laughing about some silly student and golden teeth.
I'm grateful for my hair. It sounds conceited, but really. Every morning as I brush it I look in the mirror at how blessed I am with my genetics. For reals, the combination of my mom and dad's genes gave me really long silky soft hair. Don't believe me? Stroke it for yourself sometime :)
I'm grateful for fuzzy sweaters. The one I was wearing is from Old Navy and oh so cozy for those chilly Utah winters.
I'm grateful for my house. It was completed just a few months before it was born, so we are both approaching the ripe age of 18. This is the only house I've grown up in, and there are so many memories and adventures here.
In the middleish area, is my TV. My television that we hook up my daddy's laptop to watch mormon messages. Or watch Modern Family, The Middle, or Psych together. It is a sin in my house to watch a new episode of one of these shows without one of us being there. It makes it more exciting.
My couch. Silly? Maybe. It's where family prayers are every night. Without fail, at 10 o'clock, my dad will be over there, kneeling and patiently waiting for my mom to wipe the counters, or finish washing her face. We also squish on the couch for General conference, FHE, or just to tell them stories about my day.
Umm... seeing Tate's glasses, I'm grateful for my vision. Really, I'm the only person in my family who hasn't worn or currently wears glasses. For reals. 1 out of 7. Yeah, I'm unique :)
I love braiding my hair and I'm grateful I can do that. I used to get so frustrated when I was little I'd just burst into my mom's room my hair full of knots and tears on my face.
I'm grateful for my phone. I'm grateful for the scriptures of the week it helps me send. And I'm grateful for all the sweet messages I receive.
I'm grateful for heat and air conditioning. Really. I would totally die if I was a pioneer and just had to be chill with a log fire and a quilt all the time.
I'm grateful for making friends. Like Scout. It was totally random, her grandma just called and said "My grand daughter is here, will you play with her." But oh, Scout how I'm so glad we're friends now.
I love that my Mac can make pictures look cool
I'm grateful that we have a beautiful computer. To quote Miss Kim, "Well, in my day, computers took up an ENTIRE ROOM!"
I'm grateful for my body. That if I scrape myself, I know it'll heal on it's own. If I get sick, it will take care of itself. I'm grateful that I can move it in the ways I can with dance and everything.
I'm grateful for the snow. I love skiing, snowball fights, making snowmen, and a good ol' cup of Moe :)
I'm grateful for my smile. Each morning, I try to give myself the cheesiest, biggest smile in the mirror. It helps me start my day off fabulously.
I'm grateful I can make goofy faces in pictures, and that people will still love me.
I'm grateful that this house is a loving, welcoming, and happy environment.
I'm grateful for love. That I love all these people dearly. That I love YOU blog reader dearly. Really, thanks for taking the time out of the day to entertain my insanity :)

Have pictures lying around? Do this! :)

Life of a deli girl

2011-08-07T09:47:00.004-06:00

"Aubs, I know you work at Gandolfo's, but what do you DO?"

Let's use yesterday as an example

*phone rings*

"Gandolfo's in North Provo, how may I help you?"

"Yes, do you guys have pizza?"

What? "I'm sorry, no we don't."

"Okay, so do you have breadsticks?"

Ummm... we have bread "No, sorry."

"What about tacos?"

What the crap? This must be one of my friends. But the voice?

"No, we don't have taco's either."

"I know that Aubrey! haha I just wanted to say hi."

"J.J.! [fellow co-worker] I'm gonna kill you!"

"By the way Aubrey, I can see you."

I stick my tongue out at the camera.

"Aubreeeeey! Ikaika is verbally abusing me!"

"No I am not!"

"Are too! He totally called me a JERK."

"I did not! I said she was acting JERKY. There's a difference."

"Look who's talking..."

"What?"

"Nothing. Now I want both of you to go to the walk-in and think about what you've done. Alright?"

*customer walks in*

"Hi! How's it going?"

"I'm good how are you?"

"Great thanks!"

"So, how's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, just at work."

laughs "Right, so... what do I want?"

Silence as he stares at the menu

"I like your hat by the way."

"Why thank ya" with the slight southern twang

"Hmmm... Well, what do you like?"

Point to the menu as I name them off. "Well, Urban Cowboy, 42nd Street, Reuben...."

"What about a bagel?"

"Oh, well the Chaz bagel is one of my favorites..."

"So if I get two, you'll come out here and eat them with me?"

Politely laughs "Oh, uh... I have to.... mop."

Disappointment "Oh, alright. Just give me one of em then."

"Okay, and may I get your name?"

"Trevor. And yours?"

"Aubrey."

Tips cowboy hat "Well, it's reeeal nice ta meet cha Aubrey."

"Aubs, do you know that guy?"

"Never met him in my LIFE."

2011-07-29T14:11:00.000-06:00

"The dullest and most uninteresting person you know, may one day be a creature which, if you saw them now, you would be strongly tempted to worship. There are no ordinary people."

- C.S. Lewis

Solo time

2011-07-27T09:51:00.002-06:00

I love that there's not a total sense of time here.

Usually each day, after my mom wakes up, the first question asked is:

"What time did you wake up?"

Closely followed by:

"What time is work/school/dance/internship?"

Girl's camp is such a blessing in the way that we can take a break from life, and feel closer to God and the most beautiful things he created.

Nature.

And us.

Well there goes that nick name....

2011-07-24T16:43:00.002-06:00

"Good morning Brothers and Sisters. We wish to announce that Bishop Brian K. Snelson is called as the Executive Secretary in the Provo, UT Edgemont Stake."

"Aubs, did you know?"

"Yup, about ten minutes ago."

My reaction?

Turning to Lauren and asking,

"What do I call him now?"

2011-07-03T14:57:00.005-06:00

It is rather easy to get discouraged

You just have to think about all the terrible things in the world. Think you aren't good. Think that no one loves you.

But, because God loves you, he puts hundreds of Angels in your life. They're in your classes at school, to tell you how pretty you look, or laugh at your jokes. He puts them in the hallway to walk to your classes, to hug you, to ask you if you are alright. He has them text you. Words of love that you want to save to re-read over again.

He puts them at work. He give you nice friends to work with who will take out the trash so you don't have to.

He has random strangers compliment you by saying, "You are so cheerful with that beautiful smile of yours."

When that isn't enough, he has your yearbook get overwhelmingly full with words of encouragement, love, and beautiful things.

And finally, God gives you a patriarchal blessing. A small piece of paper saying, "You are wonderful. I know you can do this, and I know you will succeed. I love you, and want to help you every step of this journey. You mean more to me than you can possibly know. You will do hard things because you have the gospel of Jesus Christ to help you in your life."

And seriously, how could you still be discouraged after that??

Why not?

2011-06-18T09:43:00.002-06:00

"Aubs, not everyone has the same mindset as you."

"What do you mean?"

"Not everyone automatically love each other. Everyone will make judgements whether you like it or not. That's how the world is. It isn't fun, but not everyone is accepting."

She said this after I said,

"I don't care. I don't care if people don't like my yellow pants. If I like them, then I should be able to wear them. If I want to dye my hair purple, then I'll love it, no matter what. I don't want to dress a certain way because someone thinks I have to. I don't want to wear make-up because someone said I should. I like how I am, and if people can't be accepting of that, then it's their problem."

I guess in a way my mom's right. There are people. Who make quick assumptions. It happens at work ALL THE TIME. They give me a look that says,

"You're just a teenager. You don't know what you're doing. You can't make a sandwich well. Plus you're probably a brat and only care about yourself."

What do I do?

Smile and ask

"What can I get for you?"

And then, I go in the back, and turn on "Here Comes The Sun."

And I can see it in their face.

"I was wrong? How could I ever have been wrong? She seems nice. She said that she'd make the sandwich as fast as she could so I can get to my son's baseball game. Why did I ever think that?"

And then they awkwardly look away. Because that's the only socially acceptable thing that they can think of.

"Here you go! And have a wonderful day!"

Why can't we love each other? I don't know. I see people everyday. I'm with them.

"Did you see what she's wearing?"

Stop it

I just don't understand what makes it so hard.

Forever

2011-06-12T20:45:00.003-06:00

She did what any logical person might do.

She ran.

It was hard but soon there was that adrenaline inside her, that sweet push towards freedom.

She couldn't think.

She listened as her feet hit the pavement. One. Two. One. Two.

It was there. At the back of her mind. Gnawing at her. Waiting.

One. Two. One. Two.

A new sound. What was it?

Splash. Splash.

Rain started softly, but quickly became hard sheets. On her arms. Her legs. In her eyes. It didn't matter. She was running away. She was leaving.

But for how long?

The thought came to her. The thought she was trying to leave. The thought that kept on chasing her no matter how hard she tried.

No. Splash. Splash.

The rain. Started down her head. In her hair. Down her shoulders. Soaked through her shirt and pants. Into her squishy shoes.

Splash. Splash.

She felt it. Soaking into her skin. Soaking into her bones. Soaking into her soul.

Splash. Splash. One. Two. One. Two.

She looked down. That dusty road. It wasn't dusty. It looked new. The rain had washed it all away. She kept running. Closing her eyes. Hoping the rain could wash away everything that happened.

Splash. Splash. One. Splash. Two. Splash.

Until...

She stopped.

She laid down.

How long?

"Forever." The words came to her lips easier than she thought. Like they had been waiting along time to come out.

"No." That came next. Harder than the first. But inside she knew. If there was someone. Someone who could come. Tell her to come back. To stop this.

But they wouldn't come.

Why would they?

She closed her eyes. As the last words, softer than the last time, escaped her lips.

"Forever."

The Summer Bucket List

2011-05-29T18:53:00.006-06:00

Attempt to take some artsy fartsy photograph and post it on my blog
Put a U.F.O. in my hair (hemp's currently in. Debating about changing it to glitter strands.... opinions?)
Bike at least 3 days a week (if it would quit raining....)
Never stay on the computer for more than an hour each day
Don't become a hermit
Learn how to work the sewing machine and make something
Cut my hair
Put a crazy color in it (purple, pink, blue.... NOT red)
Have a mohawk for at least a day
Make a drive in movie
Make R.S.G. return
Get henna
Finish at least 60-80 hours of my internship
Hang up records and pictures in my room
Deep clean my bedroom....
Watch the sunset and/or sunrise
Go to Mexico to build an orphanage
Read/listen to the entire Book of Mormon
Make people laugh
Have fun

Yes, this really happened

I could

2011-05-22T15:33:00.003-06:00

I could make excuses. I could say I've been far too busy. I could make the excuse that most of my posts are inspired by something I heard and was written in my notebook or saved in my phone. I could use the excuse that my phone is dead, and thus this is not probable.
I could bore you with details about MORP or Prom or other recent dates for this matter.
I could complain about how cliquey my school is and how much this bothers me.
I could tell you about my summer plans.
I could tell you about how much I fear my physiology final.
I could tell you about all the things I plan on doing this upcoming school year.
I could tell you how scared I am for this upcoming school year.
I could tell you a story.
I could tell you of my secret desires and wants.
I could tell you about my friends and all the wonderful people that God has blessed me with in my life.
I could tell you about my rather frustrating morning.
I could tell you about my wonderful afternoon.
I could talk about my dance concert and how wonderful it was.
I could tell about the Bishop or his wife.
I could tell about how jealous I am my mother and sister are leaving to Italy.
I could talk about how my brother is in Korea and I want him here.
I could talk about how excited I am to see my sister.
I could tell you about my car and the contents in it.
I could take cheesy pictures to put on here for your (and my) pleasure.
I could be angry.
I could be sad.
I could be mad.

I am happy

Not that I pick favorites or anything...

2011-04-24T10:16:00.002-06:00

This man is

Incredible

While it was pretty cool when he got sustained, I was more like, "Dude! Someone German!" But honestly, I love this man so much and I find myself re-reading his talks time and time again.

Now, for those who don't have a cell phone, and thus don't receive my scripture of the week...

"As we celebrate the Easter season, the testimonies of prophets and apostles called as special witnesses of the Savior, always relevant, become particularly poignant. In this series, those testimonies are presented, beginning with the First Presidency and continuing through the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Powerful individually, when presented as a group these testimonies provide an undeniable witness that the Savior lives."

Happy Easter Everyone :)

I was a really depressing Sophmore

2011-04-03T18:18:00.003-06:00

DISCLAIMER: I'm not trying to make anyone depressed by sharing this with you :)
Written about 1 year ago.

Sometimes you get sad.

And you want it to stop.

But it isn't and no one is helping you and you don't know what to do because you try to distract yourself and you try not to think.

But then you stop.

And you think.

And like a big wave at the ocean it crashes down on you and it covers your whole body and it's so overwhelming.

Will someone help? Can someone please just help?

No. Because they don't.

In some ways I'm really glad I kept this... Short essay.... If you will. In others, I'd really like to burn it. This shows a complete moment of weakness. I was completely selfish, not even thinking of my family or friends. More importantly, of my Heavenly Father who is there every step of the way in every aspect of my life. I wonder how different of a person I might have acted in those situations had I been putting my trust in Him and fully rely in God.

But I'm also glad I kept this. I'm able to see the growth and the changes that I've been through based on my decisions. Decisions that may have started off wrong, but eventually turned out more wonderfully than I ever could have imagined. At that time, I was so down on myself because it felt like it might never end. It did, and now when I face difficulties today, I can know that "this too shall pass."

This is how I spend Sunday's

2011-03-27T10:38:00.005-06:00

Where I sit in seminary

2011-03-27T09:34:00.003-06:00

Chubby

2011-03-23T15:36:00.011-06:00

This is Chad

He likes to rock climb

Be funny and crazy

Climb anything

He loves it when I jump in his pictures

He turned 23 yesterday

This is the same man who teased me

The same man who called me goop

The same man who constantly asks, "Is he your boyfriend?" at the mention of any guys name

Even if the guy I'm talking about is actually 20

Happy Birthday Chubby :)

Snelson Sunday's

2011-03-20T14:27:00.002-06:00

When I walked into church, my daddy greeted me with open arms. Gave me a big hug, and a kiss, like he hadn't seen me in years.

"Sister Snelson! It's great to see you on time!"

"Well, let me tell you, I got up at 9:20 when my daughter woke me up. I was up late last night because Aubrey was out until 1 for a party."

Everyone glances at me, the rebellious teen.

"So I wake up, and Brian walks in and says, "Honey, I'm leaving now. I hope you'll be able to make it."

Laughs from the audience

"I get in my bathroom, when Brian texts me and says, "Kay Nelson and Diane Magelby (audience members) are here. I've saved a seat for you." I texted back and said, "You're not helpful." It's not very easy being married to a comedian."

"Oh, but we love his jokes!"

"Yes, but you aren't the bud of them."

I come down in pursuit of some chocolate milk. Removing a tall glass from the cabinet, I fill it all the way to the top with milk. Then, I get in the fridge to fill it with gobs of chocolate syrup. When I squeeze the bottle, whoosh. Nothing but air.

"Awww man!"

My daddy looks up. "What's wrong Aubs?"

"I wanted chocolate milk, but there's none left."

He looks utterly aghast, like he was recently informed he's allergic to cheesecake. "No chocolate? At the Snelson's? Impossible."

He begins riffling through the fridge, determined to help my cause.

"No, really Daddy, it's fine. I'll just... have something else."

"No. My girl wants chocolate, my girl gets chocolate."

After 30 years of marriage, my mom's taught him well.

The turquoise/aquamarine/teal debacle

2011-03-18T17:13:00.003-06:00

It all started yesterday

Yesterday, in case you didn't know, was Saint Patrick's day

I woke up, like all days, with a vague idea of what I might put on my body.

Then peering into my closet, I began doing what I do each day, search the top half of the pile of my shirts.

[Boys, this post is indeed about clothes. Forgive me. I promise to post tomorrow or something with an amusing drawing I attempted]

When my eye fell upon that lacy shirt I got from D.I.

"Brilliant!" My mind exclaimed and immediately accessories, shoes, and a hair style popped in my brain.

[I just want to point out how much end of term has fried my brain. I typed "brian" instead of brain the first time, then had to look it up. Perhaps thinking of my father too much?]

I merrily skipped down my stairs (it's possible, believe me) when my father warmly welcomed me with, "Morning Aubs! Happy Saint Patricks Day!"

"Papa, it's not Saint Patrick's Day"

"Check the calendar again dear" said my father with his crooked smile.

I reevaluated my outfit, nope. Not one spec of green.

Honestly life?

So I ran up my stairs, too much of a hurry to turn on the lights, and opted to use the natural source streaming through my blinds.

Which were drawn.

I looked up.

My skirt!

It's green, right?

Okay... so what with it?

Ummm... It's cold, right?

Tights?

...sure...

T-shirt?

Too casual?

Heels?

Check.

Frilly top?

PAUSE:

Awww... I love this top! It's sooo cute! Why don't I wear it more? I really should. Poor guy, stuffed in the back of my closet, hoping for a bit of sunlight, maybe some air, and a squirt of Fabreeze or two.

STOP:

You go to school, remember?

Right.

Sweater?

Modest is hottest!

DANCE CLOTHES!

Why did I take that class again?

Ohh yeah..

RUN!

Banana.

Check.

So I get to school.

"Nice skirt. But where's your green?"

I look down, and up at the group of expectant teenage faces.

"This is green, right?"

"Aubs, really? Like, can you see okay? That's blue."

"Nu uh! Doesn't count! You're a boy! And boys are... well they can't tell colors, and some of them are.... COLOR BLIND! That's it. You're probably color blind. HA."

"Hey Aubrey, that's a cute skirt, where'd you get it?"

Finally, someone sensible.

"Thanks! DI!"

"Figures, haha, that's where you always get your stuff"

"Hey, can I ask you a question? What color is my skirt?"

"It's teal"

"No it's aquamarine"

"What? You're ridiculous. It's turquoise"

"But that's a shade of green, right?"

"No, I think it's a shade of blue, mixed with like, a little yellow, I think"

"She's right"

"Yeah"

"But, there's green in your tights!"

That was all I heard all day.

Why tell you this story?

Simply because, this is my blog, and I can type whatever I want.

On a happier note, have a fantastic day!

[SCANNED]

2011-03-14T15:57:00.017-06:00

So New Beginnings is coming up, and we had to pick 10-15 pictures to come up with...

The following is:

The Chronological Life of

Aubrey Noelle

If you came home

2011-03-06T20:19:00.003-07:00

If Jason came home:

There would be a trip to the airport. A long car drive. Possibly signs made, welcoming him home. To live with me again. Chanelle and Haley would meet us at the airport. There would be new nick names and stories of crazy co-workers and new friends. And he'd stay before the next adventure.

If Brooke came home:

There would be a trip to the airport. I probably wouldn't clear my schedule to go. (sorry Bee). There would be a big event happening. Like a wedding, or missionary farewell. Most likely a wedding. There would be borrowed pajama's, stolen shoes, and shopping trips. There would be funny stories and pictures to share before she left to her real home.

If Chad came home:

He would walk in through the front door, unannounced. Unless it was locked. Then he would ring the doorbell A LOT until someone came to get it because he was too lazy to go through to the garage. There would be stories of a recent date
He would come for one of three things:

To get an essay edited
For food (eating or baking. Sometimes both)
Laundry

If Chanelle came home:

She might have something planned to come down. Like a doctor appointment or a haircut. There would be borrowed clothes. There would be some returned, some gifted. There would be hilarious "Chanelle-ism's." There would be clothes that would somehow end up back home with her. There would be funny stories of co-workers and patients. There would be friends to play with. There would be arts and crafts.

[Thanksgiving 2009. The last time all of us were together]

Why I love the Bishop

2011-03-03T20:44:00.001-07:00

How I eat yogurt in the morning

2011-03-03T07:06:00.002-07:00

1. On the counter

2. With my nameless iPod watching Cat Stevens

Mornings are so enjoyable at the Snelson's

Sometimes, I sing

2011-03-02T17:58:00.003-07:00

Today. Less than an hour ago. At a choir competition.

"Hey, hey, the girl with the sparkles in her hair."

I turn around after realizing that there are indeed sparkles in my hair.

"Yes?"

Glances at friend as if to say, "Do I really want to do this?"

"Your outfit is HOTT."

I smile.

"Thanks"

"I love her tights."

"I love her hair!"

[I realized there hasn't been a post acknowledging my recent hair change. So, hair, consider yourself acknowledged.]

I love that each time I change my hair, the Bishop at first is shocked and says something like, "Aubs, what happened?" or my favorite, an extremely shocked, "What DID you do?"

Call me a sparkly rebel.

...I just realized how much that made me sound like a vampire....

Twilight anyone?

Hot Chocolate

2011-02-26T09:49:00.004-07:00

Nothing like a good cup o' Moe in the morning after breakfast.

Because coffee shouldn't be the only heated beverage with a name

The Gymnast

2011-02-19T09:40:00.003-07:00

Across the floor the gymnast soared

With a’boundin’ leaps and spins

Practicing with perfection

And a hope that she might win

“Flawless,” her coach cried

And smiling with glee

“Your hard work has certainly paid off

Take a break, I’ll see you in three”

She skipped over to the beam

Sitting happily thinking of her future

But her swinging legs made her slip

And her career took a slight detour

A large crack was sounded

The poor girl screamed in pain

And as she lay there crying

She knew she might not return again

The lights flashed and she was rushed

An operating room immediately cleared

Parents notified, they had arrived

And saw that fate they had always feared

She woke confused and lost

And what was on her arm?

A woman arrived, the girl was scared

“It’s alright dear, I won’t cause any harm”

“My name is Darla, how do you do?

My you took quite a spill

But it’s okay, you’ll be safe here now,

Will you please take this pill?”

A fortnight later she was released

The cast still tight in place

Although her stay had been gloomy

A smile still spread wide across her face

For while she stayed, she had observed

All the doctors doing this and that

Intrigued she watched them carefully

Thinking “I could probably do that”

A fire ignited and off she went

To pursue her brand new dream

Thoughts of flying sometimes occurred

But got pushed by this new thing

This girl however never cured cancer

I know, it’s sad to say

For she had something more special

She loved her job each and every day

For in your life your dreams get ruined

Trampled, mangled, smashed

But look for the positive, something new

And life will put you on new paths

Main food staple of the week:

2011-02-08T07:01:00.003-07:00

Harmonies

2011-02-05T20:34:00.004-07:00

I've recently developed a weird and slightly creepy obsession for harmonies.

It's no wonder I don't enjoy listening to the radio very much

Saved

2011-02-05T20:05:00.002-07:00

Today, looking at my phone I saw the happy little message:

"1374 saved messages"

What?

I tried thinking about it, and thinking, "Psh, I save like, one text a week"

But really, there's a lot, so, here are a few examples of how I couldn't possibly, ever, delete these.

"Good luck at your competition today! And let me know if you're doing anything tonight or if you're too tired! (: love you!"

"If I die from hair dye fumes, just know that I love you dearly :)"

"Luv ya! Remember that God is voting for ya, the devil is voting against ya, but it's your vote that counts!"

"I'm sorry dear. I love you though. Does that help?"

"Sometimes... Chad doesn't take his medicine. 'Hey mom! Guess what! You're half of me!"'

"The current drama of the Snelson household. We have a mouse. It's about 2 inches long and I've never seen my mom jump so high."

"Cute dress. Cute girl. The perfect combination." -The bishop

"Quite often I sit in my kitchen crying due to my parents making me laugh so hard."

Bells "Can you get my phone? I broke my legs."

"What's DAP?" "The... Department... of... awesome people."

"Yep. A customer just called me beautiful."

"So I walk into Gandolfo's and Luca's like, 'Oh man!' 'Uh what?' 'I've been waiting by this window for like ten minutes waiting for you to come so I could scare you.'"

"Mwahahahahaha stain on the stove. You have endured an epic battle with Mr. Clean magic eraser but can you withstand the powers of windex?? *dramatic theme plays*"

"Dinosaurs can be red and yellow and blue but none of them are as big as I love you! Good morning star shine :)"

"If you're worried, pray. If you've prayed, don't worry."

"So which lucky young men are baked goods recipients today?"

"One of my summer school questions: 'What is moving air?'"

"I think it's safe to say that you have a Ph.D. in being nice"

"What's with these freeway exits called 12a and 13b? That's so boring. If I had my way I'd name em after Beatles songs, Mario Kart, and Candyland. Can you please imagine the gps? 'Please keep right onto Rainbow Road' 'In one mile take the exit Penny Lane onto Cotton Candy Way' driving would be so entertaining"

"Dear you, you're great. Thanks for yelling my name last night. I felt loved :)"

"Dear Aubrey. You have red hair. You sluff seminary a lot. And I love you!"

"Hello daughter. Thanks for visiting yesterday! What would a Sunday afternoon be without Aubs? Dull. Aargh. Aubrey adds spice... See ya chicka"

"It's okay. When you get red dye that close to your brain it messes with it."

"People were wondering why I was shedding tears as I walked through the commons."

"Ummmm could I possibly love u anymore? ....Nope. Pretty sure I couldn't"

"Go Aubo! Love you!"

"Just listening to Passion Pit and thinking of you :-)"

There are hundreds more. Thank-you everyone for making my day everyday.

You are the best :)

Obsessed

2011-01-25T15:58:00.003-07:00

I am

OBSESSED

I thank my dear ASL for originally showing me this. As a result I'm obsessed with this song, I'm obsessed with the beautiful choreography, I'm obsessed for whoever was talented and lucky enough to participate in this. Overall, I'm obsessed with this amazing production.

For me, this dance is about the journey of love. How you can fall in love with someone, you hold them on such a high pedestal, and although they don't love you, they are your entire world.

One day, they come. Their views change, and they realize what they've been missing with you.

But you mature, and decide they weren't the person you thought they were before.

I heart Provo

2011-01-22T19:06:00.000-07:00

Only in Provo, UT

would someone quote a General Authority during an English discussion
would all the movies and restaurants be full on Monday because of Family Home Evening
would the movie, "Emma Smith" be shown in the movie theater
would your seminary teachers come to the school assemblies
would the roads be practically empty on Sunday's
would mutual be a viable excuse to ask for work off
would CTR rings be considered a stylish accessory, not a question
would someone choose Joseph Smith to do a "Person Who Changed History" project on
would you sing church hymns in your school choir
would your dance team be concerned if your dance moves are racy, or if the song swears
would your teacher start out a story by saying, "on my religious 2 year vacation"
would a medical guest speaker answer the question, "If you don't know what to do, who do you ask?" by saying, "Pray"

Sunshine Day

2011-01-22T18:57:00.002-07:00

I had to make a Public Service Announcement for physiology.

Enjoy :)

People who have changed my life- Grandma Jo

2011-01-09T08:21:00.003-07:00

I can't begin to possibly accurately describe Grandma Jo.

For those who knew her, we knew she was an amazing woman.

Let me quote my mom by saying, "If Louise Johanson isn't Christlike, then I don't know who is."

For all the time I can ever remember, Grandma Jo had white hair, and could not hear us. Her voice, higher then the rest, was something so normal to me, I never noticed it unless people asked. "She's deaf" I'd say.
Paige lived 2 houses away and was Grandma Jo's youngest grandchild. Paige's mom, Christine is a teacher, and Grandma Jo would watch Paige during the day.
I remember Grandma Jo sitting at the card table in Jim and Christine's room writing letters. To everyone it seemed. Writing telling some congratulations, telling some thanks, even though they may have done nothing at all. She had a small box next to all her letters. In it, was a pack of gum, and money. Each letter had a stick of gum in it. Paige and I used to go up to Grandma Jo and ask if we could have some gum too. We always had to say please first.
When I was in pre-school, Grandma Jo wanted to do something for us. By us I mean me and the neighborhood girls. She made a sort of a pre-school for us. A sign language one. Everyday we would sign the alphabet, and then we would learn a new sign. One day would be "heavy" and "light" and we'd color pictures and eat the snacks Grandma Jo made for us. We learned how to sign "Little Red Riding Hood" and each of us had a different "part." I was the narrator. We made our own little desks up in Paige's playroom because we were jealous of the kids who got to go to real school. It was hard for Grandma Jo to walk up those stairs, I'm sure she would have preferred the kitchen, but she did it anyway. At the end of that summer, we had our own graduation. We had graduation hats made out of construction paper, and all our parents came to watch us graduate.
When I was in kindergarden, Paige was in preschool. I'd come home from kindergarden, and see Grandma Jo and Paige at the bus stop waiting for me. Paige would be sitting in her Barbie Jeep, ready to give me a ride to her house. Grandma Jo walked behind us, but depending on how much the jeep was charged, there wasn't too much of a speed difference between us. When we'd get to Paige's house, Grandma Jo would make us our favorite snack, apples with peanut butter. She'd peel the apples, but only part of them. She always left some of the skin on, she said it was good for us.
I think the very first time I visited Grandma Jo in the hospital I was 8 or 9. It was scary for me, seeing her lying in that bed thinking, "She's going to die." I signed to her, telling her I was good and I love her. She signed the same thing she always does, "You are beautiful. I love you."
For the past 5 years or so, Grandma Jo has switched living in Mount Pleasant, where she comes from, with her kids, or living up here in Provo. Each time she is here I go around in church trying to find her so I can tell her how much I missed her and show her how I can still sign things.
Just sitting next to her, you can see the light of Christ in her. She came to church every single week unless her health wasn't good. She couldn't hear anything, but she would close her eyes and the spirit would testify to her. Christine would also sit next to her, and write in a notebook who each person was, and what they were speaking about.
Over 30 years ago, right before Christine was married, Grandma Jo became a widow. I think it was the fact that God had taken her husband away was why she was so strong. It was like she was saying, "Let me show you how much I can do even if I don't have him."
On Monday, when I got out of seminary, I had two texts. One from my mom, one from Paige. I opened them. "Hey Aubs, I just found out that Grandma Jo has died. I guess the family had a big fast for her on Sunday so she could leave in peace." "Aubrey, sweet Grandma Jo has died. I want you to know that she loved your family so much." I walked into Physiology dead silent, I had no way how to describe how I felt.
Grandma Jo recently celebrated her 90th birthday. For her birthday, her family, and people in the ward wrote her letters, telling her how much they love her, and were grateful for her. I can't think of a better way to celebrate a birthday.

I couldn't attend the funeral, but it doesn't matter. Grandma Jo has left a permanent impact on my life of how to give selfless service. Of how to judge righteously. Of how to love others.

"I think if I could even live my life a fraction of the way Grandma Jo lived hers, I'd be on the right track."

People who have changed my life

2011-01-09T08:16:00.002-07:00

I want to start something.

Write about all the people who have changed my life.

Now, there are a lot, and if you are reading this, then you probably are one of them.

If I forget about you, please don't feel offended.

Each person has had a unique and wonderful impact on my life.

Sweater Vest

2011-01-06T16:07:00.004-07:00

I wore a sweater vest to school today.

And because I like it a lot, I wanted to show it to you :)

I made a new hair clip

2010-12-27T13:05:00.002-07:00

I got excited and wanted to show someone.

If you come into Gandolfo's today from 4-8, you'll be able to see it in person.

2010-12-13T20:11:00.005-07:00

Recently, I had a choir concert.

I wanted to mix it up a little bit, the following is my attire:

I mean, you're only young once, and I'm too young not to just live it up once in a while.

Right?

I laughed while I made my bread

2010-12-12T12:53:00.007-07:00

"Aubrey, you know, if I believed in all that crazy reincarnation mumbo jumbo, well do you know what I'd want to come back as?"

"What?"

"One of your kids."

We all laugh.
"No, really. Think how fun it would be. We'd have a new adventure everyday..."
"...and it would be tons of fun. You're just the perfect person to plan fun things like that."

"Plus, you'd be a really great Mom."

Jix

2010-12-07T16:51:00.004-07:00

JIX:

[jah-icks]- The act of being completely and utterly random

I told the story of jix to Ammon, so I decided to tell you.

One night, me, DAni, and Jessica (Stevenson) [I know you probably know who Jessica is, it's just when I told that to Ammon he looked confused and said "You mean Steve?"] were all making hemp. This was the first one I had done myself, and actually tied it around my hair.

[Forgive me for this picture. It was the best one I could find.

Also, it was 80's day at school]

I had laborously been trying to pick out cute beads for my hemp. I looked through my letter beads, which were few in numbers. I picked out J-I-X. Then I asked Dani and Steve what jix might mean.

"Well... It's... you."

Hmmmmm... but what was I?

Random. Utterly and completely random.

And thus Jix was born.

The most common usage was "Mix of Jix" my birthday present of a bunch of mix CD's from Jess. ("You mean Steve?")

Today

2010-12-05T13:04:00.006-07:00

"How many dancers does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

"How many?"

"One. And the rest stand around saying, 'I could have done that better."'

"Steven, did you thanks that door?"

"No...."

"Steven! We always need to thank intimate objects! They're people too!"

"They're intimate objects..."

"Everything needs love, even if it's intimate."

"Aubrey, just because you're the bishop's daughter does not mean you can just say anything."

"Guys! I thought of the BEST slogan."

"What?"

"Like if I ever fun for something. I have a good slogan."

"Uh.... Okay."

"What is it?"

"So, I have struggles rhyming with my name right? So what about 'Vote Aubrey, cuz her hugs are free.'"

"Ummm....."

"And I could wear my free hugs shirt like everyday. How sweet would that be?"

Favorite.

2010-12-05T13:04:00.001-07:00

JIX:

Car singing 101

hob·by

A new species

An interesting 32 years....

The Living Christ

Clean Blood

The things we take for granted

I have thoughts. They just change frequently.

I'm only a child

The best days....

The one, the only, The Miss Kim.

Child-like Eating Habitat's

A brief summation of my afternoon

Della Park Loosli

Dear BYU, I couldn't say all of this.

When the Snelson's get together....

Laziness is.....

Struggs....

Disconnect from the world

Finding joy in the little things

A Fine Frenzy

Life Lessons: Presented by Gandolfo's

Social Peer Pressure

It's not every day you turn five

Love

Unique

Then, and now

Carol of Joy

Moms: our number one fans, our number one worriers

She drives for a relationship, he's lost in the transmission.

The Girl

Betcha didn't know...

9/11

Friends? Stalkers? Halloween Costume?

Inspired from a Facebook conversation

What's in a name?

She-who-must-not-be-named

I'm GRATEFUL

Life of a deli girl

Solo time

Well there goes that nick name....

Why not?

Forever

The Summer Bucket List

I could

Not that I pick favorites or anything...

I was a really depressing Sophmore

This is how I spend Sunday's

Where I sit in seminary

Chubby

Snelson Sunday's

The turquoise/aquamarine/teal debacle

[SCANNED]

If you came home

Why I love the Bishop

How I eat yogurt in the morning

Sometimes, I sing

Hot Chocolate

The Gymnast

Main food staple of the week:

Harmonies

Saved

Obsessed

I heart Provo

Sunshine Day

People who have changed my life- Grandma Jo

People who have changed my life

Sweater Vest

I made a new hair clip

I laughed while I made my bread

Jix

Today

Favorite.