Dear Leisa,

Today was your birthday, and I think you should know you've been on my mind for weeks. I can't help but wonder what a life with you would be like. I'd like to think we'd be best friends. I'd like to imagine we'd have an unbreakable friendship in which we understood each other in ways that maybe no one else could.

But you went Home before we really had the chance to know what that would be like. Yet, I will always admire you. You stuck up for me when I hadn't the courage to speak. You had a way of making me feel like I belonged, despite our difference of age, no matter who we were with. Did I ever tell you that you were the one who convinced me to move to AZ? I wanted to be there because you were. And so, I am left here wishing you were here today, wishing I could help make it a wonderful day. I love you dear sister. Please know I'm still loving you.

Love,

gina marie

TrOgLOdyTe

trog·lo·dyte /ˈtrɒgləˌdaɪt/ Show Spelled[trog-luh-dahyt]

1. a prehistoric cave dweller.

2. a person living in seclusion.

It's the perfect word to describe me and my interaction with the online networking world, or lack thereof. My mother-in-law would be pleased to see me use such a word. It is a term she used often with Brandon as a teen. Every morning, as she opened the curtains and let the sunshine in, Brandon complained about the light and how it hurt his eyes. He wanted to keep the room as dark as possible. As a result, she called him a troglodyte: 1) a prehistoric cave dweller, living in the darkness of a cave.

While I do not particularly want to live in a cave that eliminates the light from the world outside, I do find myself limiting my interaction with others in the world online. For this reason, I call myself a troglodyte, using a second definition of the word: 2) a person living in seclusion.

Now, with this definition comes an explanation and several apologies. First, the {apologies}:
To all of the 21 FB friend requests I did not accept until today: I'm sorry.
To all those who have commented on my wall, blog, or sent a message with no a reply: I'm sorry.
And to all those who never received a birthday wish from me: I really am sorry.

Though this is not a comprehensive list of all the wrong I've done (obviously), I really do feel bad for not communicating to the people I love. It doesn't make sense, especially when I value the friendships I have. Yet, why I am I not more eager to stay in touch, if I truly care?

The answer? It's a personal problem. Really, it's not you, it's me. When I get on the internet to do something as simple as reply to a comment, I find myself spending hours reading updates and viewing pictures. It's as if I lack the self control to stop. One click leads to the next, and before I know it, it seems like the entire night is spent staring at my computer screen. I feel like with all that time on the computer, I should have pages of homework done, but nope, not one. It's actually kinda depressing, just knowing I'm capable of sitting so long without really accomplishing any item of business desperately needing completion. I feel downright lazy.

Consequently, I've moved to the opposite extreme. Rather than devoting hours of my time interacting with the world of friends online, I've eliminated that possibility as I've avoided the networking scene altogether, in fear that if I even do so much as log on, I will succumb to the temptation to waste away time in which I should be doing other things. Since my senior year began, I've ignored the world of people outside of my view, secluded myself from them, and thus, become a troglodyte.

As result, there are the pro's and con's. On a positive note, I've been able to stay focused on my studies, and not feel guilty for not neglecting my homework, calling, or husband, due to excessive time on the internet. It has felt great to be able to accomplish what I set to do, without getting distracted, oh so easily by the click of my fingertips.

On the negative end, I've been neglecting people. Not just anybody either, people I care about. As if right now, I still am not completely certain how to go about finding the balance, but I do know that nothing is extremes is a good thing. So to all those I've ignored, I do apologize, and am genuinely sorry. Just know it's really not you, it's me, trying to figure things out.

P.S. Brandon read this post, and then asked if I wrote this to the bishop. Too serious? lol.

I'll leave the baking to {him}

While there are many attributes in which I thankfully inherited from my beloved mother, I begrudgingly admit that her baking skills was not one of them. I do not enjoy the process, nor the results. As my frustration levels rise at the very thought of baking, I can't help but consider why I have produced a shameful number of baking failures. Thus, after an in depth analysis concerning the cause, here is my final conclusion, impelling me to confess: I {don't} follow the recipe.

Okay, okay, I know this analysis deserves an automatic, "Duh." But, believe it or not, there is a reason behind my madness: strict adherence to recipes restricts my creativity. Perhaps, I stand alone in this theory, but as I follow a recipe with rigorous precision, I feel limited by the scrupulous measurements required. To me, the joy of cooking comes from making the recipe my own through personal modifications and estimations. I prefer to think of recipes as a guideline, not a commandment. Thus, exact obedience to a recipe is a meticulous process which I do not enjoy.

The FINAL Finale

Fireworks are a mysterious thing. Every year I anxiously watch and wait. Amidst the rapid firings are the intermittent lulls. With each pause, I can't help but wonder if the {finale} proceeds. Seconds seem like hours. When the firings return, I am convinced this is the end. The crowd grows silent. Viewers hope for a more grand finale, but accept the uncertainty. Then, just as I am about to leave the anticlimactic scene, an explosion of light fills the sky. Thunderous popcorn deafens the air. Undoubtedly, I know, this is the FINAL finale.

And so it is with my semester. I anxiously await the outburst of testing that is about to take place. I don't how or why I have ten finals from only seven classes, but matters still remain. Last week I took four, but six await. Today, they will come. Ready or not, here they come. Undoubtedly, I know, this is the FINAL finale.

[ONE]

It's been...

[ONE] day since he carried me to our bed.

[ONE] week since he bought me flowers.

[ONE] month since he hung my decorations.

[ONE] year since eternity began.

He is the [ONE] who has captured my heart so deeply, so gently, so firmly. He is the [ONE] who found me when broken, wounded with heartache--unwillingly to open, but showed me what it meant to love. He is the [ONE] who believes I can do anything. He is the [ONE] who hears me, feels me, and knows me better than I know myself. He is the [ONE] who's touch, so tender, can make me cry. He is the [ONE] I can never get enough of.

Big Confession: I'm dating other people

I know. First, the shock of Vegas and now this. But it's true. For weeks now, I have been on dozens of dates with a plethora peeps. It all started about a two months ago. I received a call from a man, wanting to meet me in his office. It seemed so innocent. And so I did. Since that day, my life has certainly changed- for the better. I now have the privilege to work closely with the youth of the ward. I was called as the first counselor in the Young Women's Presidency. These women are amazing! I have thoroughly enjoyed all of my one-on-one dates to get to know them individually. Working with the youth has been a huge blessing in my life, and I only hope and pray that they may know of my instant love for them and desire for them to be happy.

p.s. For the record, I absolutely admire and adore my handsome husband. There is no one in the world I would rather be with. Eternity will never be enough for me!

Wordly Confessions

This post is inspired by my dear cousin Chelsea. I hate to admit it, but Brandon and I are the wordly ones of the family. WE {love} Vegas. Went there on our honeymoon and can't wait to go back. We loved the shopping, the Fall weather, the shows, but most of all the FOOD. We gained 5 pounds in our first 24 hours of marriage, and the numbers keep on getting bigger. One buffet after another. Ate six plates of crab legs saturated in butter and enjoyed every bite. There was much to enjoy for a party of two. Now, a place for family fun? Not exactly. Not my first choice...or hundredth. But for now, Vegas holds a place in our heart. A place set aside for sporadic get-a-ways, filled with romance and adventure.