Keane is Lovely

Don't read into this. I just love this song. 


"Can't Stop Now"

I noticed tonight that the world has been turning
While I've been stuck here dithering around
Though I know I said I'd wait around till you need me
But I have to go, I hate to let you down 
But I can't stop now
I've got troubles of my own
Cause I'm short on time
I'm lonely
And I'm too tired to talk 

I noticed tonight that the world has been turning
While I've been stuck here withering away
Though I know I said I wouldn't leave you behind
But I have to go, it breaks my heart to say 

That I can't stop now
I've got troubles of my own
Cause I'm short on time
I'm lonely
And I'm too tired to talk 

To no one back home
I've got troubles of my own
And I can't slow down
For no one in town
And I can't stop now 

And I can't slow down
For no one in town
And I can't stop now
For no one 

The motion keeps my heart running
The motion keeps my heart running
The motion keeps my heart running
The motion keeps my heart running 

Afraid of Such Great Heights

PROBLEM.
Last post I blogged about THE EXACT SAME TOPIC that has brought me to blogging again.
Help me.

I thought I had made up my mind. I've realized how stinkin' scared out of my brains I am to go to BYU. It's what I want to do, and yet my tummy gets nervous and I feel... seriously just straight up scared. I don't even know how to describe it. I want to know if it's the right decision though, I want to know that my excitement/nervousness is just for this pending adventure, and not because it's the wrong thing to do.

Remember when you were in elementary school and you had to use real home phones to call your friends? If you wanted to play, you had to call up your friend and hope they answered.
But also remember when your friend didn't pick up? You kept calling and calling, never leaving a message, but just calling, and you knew they were home, they should be home, so they should pick up, but they didn't. Remember the frustration? Remember the rejectedness?
"Why won't she answer, Mom?"
Why won't He answer, Mom?

Why do I not feel like I have an answer? I feel like I need a solid answer, and as I am typing, my stomach is cringing in fear that the answer is... no answer.
No answer?!
What does that even mean!? How could I possibly decide this all on my own?
I'm going to miss my family like crazy if I go.
I'm always going to wonder what if if I stay.
I'm gonna be able to do what I love if I go.
I will have extra money if I stay.
SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO!
*NO DON'T START SINGING THE SONG, THIS IS NO TIME FOR A SONG!
no time for a song. no time for thinking or anything because this is driving me nuts.
Listen. Everything is set up for me if I go to BYU. I took all the right classes this semester, I have some potential job options up there already, I have two places I could stay, and I have people here to help me make my DVD for my audition into the MDT program. I realized I love dancing. I love singing. I love performing.
So what am I waiting for?
What AM I waiting for?
What am I going to lose? A scholarship? Yeah well people pay for college all the time. I can do that.
What else? My family? People move away from their families all the time. I love them, but I can do that.
What ELSE? Security. It's a risk, but it's an adventure. I can do that.
What I need is a solid assurance that the Lord will back me up in this decision. Is it monumental? A little bit. It is a little bit monumental.
Monumental!
MENTAL. AGH! What if I decide to go and I mess everything up at ASU and then the answer is suddenly NO DONT GO.
No. It doesn't work like that. Does it? Even if it does, I have to have faith.
When Macey was in the hospital I had an elephant load of faith. 20 elephant loads of faith.
This faith is different. I am stepping off the side of a cliff and it is scaring me. It would be such a hard and long fall.
But He'll catch me. That I know for sure.
I don't know what will be asked of me. But if I go, no matter what happens, He'll be there to catch me.
He always does, He always will.
Agh life. Yay.

Question Mark?

One of the craziest things about growing up is learning how to make decisions. And being the incredibly opinionated person that I am, you would think I'd be great at making them. But I hate them. Mark Stoker would tell me that "hate is a strong word," and here I'd have to agree. So I don't hate decisions. But as I get older I realize more and more what a burden they are. (Sometimes I pretend to not have opinions or preferences just so I can get out of making decisions.) ((Take going out to eat, for example. Sometimes I'm just so worried that I'll choose something that the other person won't like (((or won't want to pay for, if I'm on a date))) that I just refuse to decide. Because I can make myself enjoy anything, if I try hard enough.))
But some decisions are definitely more important than others. Par example: choosing a major, choosing a school, choosing WHAT THE JUNK MONKEY YOU'RE GOING TO DO WITH YOUR DECISION-MAKING LIFE.
Some things people will tell you when they're trying to be helpful are:
Make a list of Pros and Cons!
Why don't you talk to someone who knows about it?
You don't have to make a decision now.
and my favorite...
Why don't you pray about it?

.....
Don't you think that's all I've been doing for the last, I don't know, 4 WEEKS?! Haha, not to be rude, because all of these people mean well. They love me and want me to be happy. And I love me, and I want me to be happy too.  But even after employing all these methods, I'm still left utterly confused.
I guess only time will tell. But that is annoying. Joy in the journey. Agh.
PS blogging doesn't help in the process.

Bust the Windows Outcha Car

Throwing down a big complicated experience into five words:
Weston and I broke up.

But it was alright. It is alright. Because of a myriad of reasons I couldn't possibly explain fully without my famous hand gestures. So it shall sufficeth to say that I am finding myself grown up and somewhat relieved. Feeling confident, like I just bought a really awesome pair of shoes and everyone knows it.

Cool thing though, even though I didn't get a pair of cool shoes.. wait yes I did.

Hi-yah! $1.50, baby.

Shoes aside, cool things have been realized since the caput. A lot of them I should keep to myself because of the non-privacy of this blog, but! I realized that I am not "Another Picture to Burn" girl. I'm not gonna "bust the windows outcha car" I'm not gonna tell my girlfriends that my ex is gay. And mostly I'm not really gonna delete my posts with Weston in them off of my blog. Because guess what? When I blogged it, I meant it. That's what I wanted to say then, so I said it. And no matter what happens later, doesn't change what I meant in the past. Even if we're not together. So it may be weird to keep him up there, heaven knows he didn't want to be on this blog in the first place. But the keepage isn't indicating my everlasting attachment to him. I feel like it's the equivalent of keeping pictures of a friend who moved away. You were great friends, but the distance makes it impossible for you to stay that way. But the circumstances now doesn't nullify what was then. So they stay. Just as a kind of reminder of who I was, and who I want to be. The Lynzi who will be blogging 3, 7, 24 months from now.
It's cool to grow up. It hurts and makes you sore sometimes, but the definition is always worth it in the end.
Good times. Always.

I've Got the Bridal Blues (someone make a song out of this)

I am finding myself with too much time between 12:30 and 4:00 PM on mondays. Agh.

So here I am, eating my lunch, upstairs in the institute, hiding out because I need to concentrate and also because there is a horrible mess on my face ( I killed my face. Seriously.) I also brought a half a pack of Saltine Crackers, and I'm looking down and seeing that as much as I try to suck on the cracker, the crumbs still fall. Preschooler eating status.

So good, but so messy.

Anyway. A long time ago (about two years, actually.) I decided I wanted to get married on 11/11/11. Back then (two years ago) that seemed like a reasonable and attainable goal. I could have made it my New Years Resolution for that year and felt good about making that goal.

Yippee! (Imagine she has sleeves)

But now. Oh ho ho now. It's January 24th, 2011 (01/24/11 for all of you who can't read proper English) (("Because I am so proper all the time," she said as she used a double parentheses.)) And I'm looking at the date and BOOM HIT ME IN THE FACE. AGH 11/11/11 is coming in t-minus 11 months! Which means... Lynzi won't be getting married in 11 months. Outlook is dim. Chances are slim. *somethingsomethingmumbleblahblah* Him! three rhymings. So I just was a little sad yesterday because my dream of being married on the most EPIC WISHING DAY EVER will most likely not come true. Never mind the fact that its very much smack dab at the end of the semester when everything is crazy with school. But I thought to myself,
It's perfect! It meets all my necessary criteria!
-It's a Friday
-It has some sort of dately significance
-IT'S AT A TIME WHEN IT'S NOT SO STINKING hot outside (agh kill Arizona for being so hot and preventing me from being married 8 out of the 12 months of the year.)
-yeah that last one is the only criteria I really care about. It being on a Friday was an ultimate bonus.

Then my mom said, "*Psht* Everyone and their dog will be getting married on that day."
And I said, "Well dogs don't get married in the temple so that eliminates half..."

But ah man! My dream has become a shattered stained glass window, remnants lying beautiful and glistening on the floor, and no amount of sparkly wedding glue is gonna put this picture back together again.
Oh well.

Gone like a freight train, gone like yesterday

BOOR-RING

I'm turning into a real blogger. Wow.
Tomorrow is the first "day" of classes, but all of my classes are on Monday/Wednesday/Friday. EXCEPT! for my random dance class I'm taking. EXCITED! kinda. Because who wants to go to ALL THE WAY TO SCHOOL for one class?
Why am I doing this?
If it doesn't count for BYU credit I'm dropping. Maybe.
If it doesn't count for credit and I hate it I'm dropping.
I have to be out there for Jester'Z every Tues night anyway. Maybe it's worth it.
But tomorrow is work and I've gotta get up early (6:45. Imma panzywaste), I just felt like I needed to commence this semester with a blog post. Why aren't my posts interesting anymore? I have nothing to rant about. Like my Scorpions Post I did a year and a half ago? Loved it. Super rantish. Maybe having a life again will give me good creative ideas for posts.
Perhaps.
Wish me luck!

Little Bird Little Bird Little Bird

No one likes to hear about someone they like liking someone else. And also no one likes hearing about some other girl liking the boy that your best friend likes. Or was starting to like. Or was going pottery throwing with him sometime soon. And then you're the one who has to tell her and you feel all sick inside because you know that it's not something you'd ever want to hear if you were on the other end.
"Hey. Did you hear that Male figure 1 is dating female figure 2?"
These words kinda sink as they sit in your stomach and then you say them and they come out as a whisper. Because you don't really want to say them, and you know the friend doesn't want to hear them. And you both don't want it to be true.
So life is weird and everyone is looking out for their own romantical interests. Sometimes we're on the other side of the story, we suddenly find ourselves interested in someone else and don't really feel like telling the other person. And so we create these awkward situations, and always Time finds a way to smooth things over. But in the mean time we're sad and so we talk about it and blog about it and then it feels a little bit better.
The ONLY problem with having a best friend is that now you carry double the sorrows. But also you carry double the happinesses, too.
Worth it.

Throat Chokes.

My sister is a miracle sleeping in the room next to me. Because she almost died. She pretty much was dead. I take this for granted because now she's alive and we joke around about that robot machine in her body attached to her heart. But life is fragile and I almost had to spend the rest of my life without her.
What jogged my memory?
This post, by her friend Sarah.

A little bit of Tim

I tell her I love her about four times a day, and if you know me that isn’t normal. But it’s just that… she’s alive. She’s alive and breathing with a big smile on her face like nothing ever happened.

“Did you hear about Macey?” I hear a voice across the room casually ask another. I stopped – I only knew one Macey in ninth grade – Macey Richardson. Who was, coincidentally, one of my best friends. Confused, I looked around to notice my phone buzzing. It was a text from Riley, the third point of our friendship triangle, “Sarah, do you have Lynzi Richardson’s number?” I started scrolling through my phonebook, “Yeah,” I typed back, my fingers shaking.

All that night I got forwards on my phone “Pray for Macey”, “Pray for Macey”. She had collapsed, Coach Gardner performed CPR, the paramedics had to use an AED to start her heart again, but no one really knew what happened. All we knew was that her ride home from school that day was in an ambulance.

She’ll be fine, I told myself. So I did what I do best – I pushed the chaos to the back of my mind and chose not to deal with it. The next day came and went with distractions, but she was only getting worse. Her lungs had collapsed and filled with fluids and the doctors didn’t know what was wrong. I didn’t want to think about it, so I continued to cling tightly to my small string of vain optimism. She’ll be fine, I insisted, she’ll be fine.

Then I heard the news that broke me. “Sarah, I just talked to Coach Riggs.” A girl on Macey’s track team came up to me with a worried face, “Macey is in a coma. They don’t know what’s wrong.” A… a coma? What? No! That only happens on TV. But as she finished talking the reality sunk in. The image that ended up haunting me for the rest of the week flashed in my mind for the first time. Macey, lying in a hospital bed with tubes all around her - Tiny Macey, Fragile Macey, Shy Macey. My friend who I was always trying to protect was lying there, not alive, but hooked up to a machine with only descending mountain peaks on a screen to keep her heart beating.

I spent the rest of that week in a haze. I would barely start to care about some new story we were reading in English when I’d turn to see the empty desk where Macey should be sitting, and have to leave the room in hopes to compose myself again. Three days passed and we were all loosing hope. That image wouldn’t stop plaguing my mind. Macey in a coma, a cord filling the space between death and life. I thought of a book we read in the fourth grade by Judy Blume, the one called “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret,” and with tears streaming down my cheeks I thought, “Are you there God? It’s me, Sarah.” At church they always told me to say ‘let thy will be done’ when I prayed. But this time I left it out. “Are you there, God? It’s me, Sarah. Don’t let Macey die.” Please, I thought again. Don’t let Macey die.


And He must have listened. Because a few days later she woke up, then after a few tests and surgeries, the doctors figured out what was wrong and she came home. So now she’s here -

Alive.

Breathing.

With a big smile on her face like nothing ever happened.

-----------

I tell her I love her about four times a day.

I don't tell my sister I love her four times a day. Not even three or two or even once sometimes. It's weird in our family, we hardly ever say it. It comes out chokingly and unnatural. We do love each other. It's just known. But that doesn't make it ok to leave it out all the time. Especially when freak accidents happen and life tries to steal your only sister away. She was almost gone for good and I probably wouldn't have been able to tell you the last time I told her I loved her before that stupid Monday last February. Wow regrets and wow the sadness and the shame I feel right now, crying in my bedroom at 12:30. She has never been anything but infinitely kind and caring toward me, everything about charity is what she is and I get caught up in my stupid life and I want to go to BYU and I'll be away from her. I feel like I need to be here until I see her safe and sent off to... college or marriage or something. Even then I won't want to let go. Because how ungrateful am I, how selfish and stupid and so very stupid. Ouch this is hurting to see how at fault I am at this very second. And crying and blogging and regretting aren't going to get me anywhere. So I'm gonna go wash my ugly face and get to bed so I can wake up tomorrow before my family leaves and make sure they all know that I love them. Because when life is so  inconsistent, there's really no time for sleeping in. 

Thick as Concrete-Blooded Thieves

I think my collar bone's end is pointier than normal. Hey guess what? Pointier is a word.

See? Weird.

I don't know. Commitments are hard. You know, when you feel like you're committed to something, or at least you know you should be, you feel responsible for something, you should follow through on things. This isn't making any sense.

Dilemma:

Cousin's Farewell VS Church Calling

Why I want to go to the Farewell:

1. It's Brady's farewell, it's kinda a big deal.

2. Road trip in the car with my family.

3. Good food and fun with cousin's/aunts/everyone after church.

4. I love spending time with my family. (Like in the car)

5. I want to be around my family.

6. I think I've been away from my family much much too often as of late.

Why I don't want to go to the Farewell:

1. Have to get up at 6 and drive for 3 hours.

2. Have to leave at 3 and drive for 3 more hours.

Why I want to go to my ward:

1. Jenn is getting confirmed. YESAAAAA!

2. Jodi (RS Secretary, near and dear to my soul) is having her last day at our ward and being released.

3. Ipso Facto, new girl is being called. Most likely.

4. I missed last Sunday due to an adventure I took.

5. I missed the last TWO RS Pres meetings, and one with the Bishop.

6. I'm being visit taught after church.

7. I miss Ashley.

8. I miss Sister Bro.

9. I feel like something big is going to happen tomorrow. I just felt that, right now. So... we'll see. Something big other than all the stuff I just listed.

Why I don't want to go to my ward:

1. The concrete-thick guilt of ditching out on family time.

2. The disappointment of not seeing my cousin speak.

So commitments. I realized I have a very strong tie/commitment to my family. I love them. I love being around them. It makes me sad when I realize I've been neglecting them, how much time I could have spent playing Just Dance II with Dallin, or talking to Macey, or dancing around like mad men with Gavin, or listening to Kody talk about ASU basketball, or MV basketball, or church basketball. Or helping Mom cook or watching football and talking life with Dad. I'm not around nearly enough. So when I pull a bummish teenager move and say I don't want to go (or that I can't) I get slammered (slathered, slammed, and hammered) with the guilt of choosing something else besides my family. Which I realized I hate doing. But I've been doing it so often. And even on break when I should have had so much time to be with them, I didn't, and now.... I miss them. Terribly. And they are all sleeping a few stairs and rooms away. 

How has living at home become so lonely?

Commitments to callings and jobs and responsibilities. I love my calling. So very much do I love it. It's been an enormous blessing in my life, and it has made me become someone closer to the Lynzi that the Lord needs me to be. I love my ward. They are amazing and fun and inspired. Something like Zion. Or as close as a Singles Ward can get. :) Wait, excuse me, Young Single Adult Ward. There's no room for political correctness in this blog. 

Anyway. Tough decision. It's been eating me up so I put it off. And here I realized that I have to stay home. I have to do my calling in this situation, I need to be here. Invisible force compelling me to stay. Something. I don't know. But it hurts because I miss those crazy people I'd be riding 6 hours in the car with. I feel they are already disappointed in me for being away so often. And here I'm doing it again. 

This is a long blog post. And I want to read my book. But I'm a terrible decision maker a lot of the time. I'd like to fix that. Hmmm. Quest. Quiz/test. No, just a journey. To try and become more decisive. To know what I want and then do it. 

AGH hard.