Can I have some?

welcome to my blog.

a place to post. a place to eat oreos. a place to vent. a place to heal.

i started this blog so i could use a different outlet besides munching on fattening oreos. as if that has done any good... *mind wanders to oreo package in the house...*

then i realized that oreos can be semi symbolic. if you are are that crazy about oreos that is. which... i am.

eating oreos is therapeutic for me. when i am struggling or when i need a pick me up. they have chocolate. and sugar. both of which help lift my mood. not to mention that i eat them soaked with milk, which is my miracle drink.

i post my posts to not only get stuff out. there may be people who read my blog who have been in the same kind of situations as i have. i hope reading them and knowing that others have gone through things like i have, will be to you what eating oreos does to me.

and yes. i didn't capitalize anything in here. i just felt like it. deal with it.

munch up.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

"How are you?"

What a question. To be honest, it isn't really even a question. It would be a greeting. So I feel odd actually answering it. Because, honestly.... it IS a question. It has the ? at the end, after all. And it seems that people expect you to answer it anyway. They just probably don't want the truthful answer, and want to hear you say, "Good."

But what if you aren't good? What if you live your life, going through the world and trying very hard not to lie? *points to Shay*

My bishop (leader of my ward, which is an LDS "congregation") and I had this discussion last Sunday. He asked me how I was doing, and... to be completely honest with you, it was one of those Sundays that.... just got to me. I will expound later. I couldn't find myself to just say, "good." Because I wasn't. In fact, it is possible that I was nearly ready to start sobbing. So, as the actor that I am, I laughed it off, and started the conversation.

"I'm not sure how you want me to answer that," I said (or something of the like.) "Do I lie, and say 'good' or should I tell you the truth which would end up with us talking in your office?" Yes, I was really that bad off. I wouldn't say that I am that much better now.

He laughed too, and we continued to "joke" around. I think he understood that there was something seriously wrong with me. Or maybe I like to just imagine that he got that impression.

And so, I write this as honestly as I can. You ask me how I am? Well, get ready for the truth. Because on here is where I find that I can be the most truthful. Or stop reading if you think you can't deal with it. I won't be offended. Heck, I won't even know if you continue reading or not.

I am under the impression that I have been striving very hard to be numb, nearly my whole life. I have contemplated how well I would be able to do if I tried to actually act. I have never really been in a play of any sort, but with the act that I put on every day of my stinking life.... I just might be able to pull it off quite well. I am even under the impression that I am so darn good, that I can even fool myself.

I think that I have come to a realization last Sunday. A few moments that stand out a couple days later: Instead of going to teach my primary class with Pro Boxer, I guess it was my turn to go to the teaching ... class thing. One comment stands out. "How do you know what you are doing is pleasing to the Lord?" Do not ask me why that stands out so much.

Then in sharing time, when all the kids got together in a big group, and we sang and listened to a member of the primary presidency talk, I realized another thing. The lesson was about listening to good music and reading/watching good books/movies (or rather, not listening to "bad" music and not reading/watching "bad" books/movies.)

You know that feeling that some songs give you? Where the music just enters your skin and you feel little tingles all over your body or heat blossoms in your heart? I realized during that lesson, that I have been trying to do everything I can to prevent my body from feeling that way. When I hear a good song, and the tingles start in my right arm and I can feel them pushing their way to the rest of my body, I force myself to ignore the song or the feeling, and eventually it goes away.

It is also the reason why I don't say my own personal prayers anymore. Because, without a doubt, I know that if I kneel down and pray, I will get that feeling again.

And yes, if you are not of my faith, that feeling is what we call the spirit. The Holy Ghost. Go to if you want to learn more. And no, I am not posting that to get you to join. If you are looking for truthful answers to my faith that is seen as somewhat bizarre, then you can find them there.

I started this session now entitled, "Shay's blatantly truthful moment" talking about how I believe that I have been forcing myself to go through my life numb. Whether or not that is true, I have discovered at least one thing this weekend. I am currently living my life trying to numb myself from the only one person who I know can save me. I don't even know why I am doing such a stupid thing. I do it every time a new layer of my rotten to the core onion comes to the surface.

I believe in Christ. I firmly believe that I do. I also have a firm belief that He is the only one who can heal me. That belief is the only thing that keeps me going to church despite the danger of me feeling something there. It seems that the only thing that I don't believe is that I am important enough to be healed. I continue trying to hide. I continue to try and push away from these feelings. For someone who does such things, does she really deserve that kind of love? Unconditional is a common way to say it. Yet, for some reason, I can't find myself to be important enough to include myself in the term, "unconditional."

Every night, I lay in bed, curled up into a ball, once again knowing that I didn't bow to my Lord and beg for His help. That I didn't turn to Him, and knowing that his arms are reaching out. I can't bring myself to face Him when I use such tactics to try and ignore Him. Why should I be so important? How do others see that importance in me? Why in the WORLD do so many people love me when all I strive for in life is to hide?

Yes, it is depressing. Don't tell me that I didn't warn you.

Saturday, August 20, 2011


Or should that be lullabi? Maybe lullabis?


I don't usually sing to my kids when I put them to sleep. Most times I read them a book and then let them fall asleep on their own. Only when we are away from home I usually sing to them to help them fall asleep because they aren't in a usual environment. There are few times when I do sing to them at home, and that is when they are having a particularly hard time sleeping.

One night a while ago, was such a night. After failing to get them to fall asleep on their own, I went down to sing to them. And that is where I get to the point of my post. After one or two songs, Bug said something adorably cute that I haven't wanted to forget and as such have wanted to post it on here.

He said, "Mom, you are making me sleepy. Keep going."

And here his first sentance made me think that he would ask for me to stop.

And with that... I will post this and go to sleep myself. Goodness, I sure do need it.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Frustration.... to the MAX!

First off I really can't remember at all what the point of the last post was. Just forget about it, or quell your excitement over learning what the motif was in my life. Likely I was just going to complain more about how much my life sucks or something like that. Knowing me.

I know that I really want to post... something. But I don't know what. So many feelings and situations are surrounding me, so much that I want to hide and turn into a hermit. Wait... I already am, huh? So many responsibilities are overwhelming me, and that makes me want to hide even more. Yet, I know I can't hide, and... yeah, it makes me want to hide even more! I'm completely ridiculous, eh?

I think that the most frustrating thing to me ever since I became an English major are the times like this. When I want to say something, I want to explain something.... but I don't really know what, or even worse, that I don't know how to put it into words. It is even more frustrating than suddenly being unable to talk out loud with correct grammar. And that HAS been happening ever since I became an English major. Not that I was perfect before, but it certainly started after I became crazy enough to dedicate myself to English and writing.

I guess I'll just write all the things on my mind. Bug going to kindergarten... Marching Band camp starting next Monday... Jury duty (that I likely can't get out of) during Marching Band camp... Finding people to watch my kids everyday for a week during Marching Band camp... Getting myself in shape for not only Marching Band camp, but also for biking around campus this semester... Money issues... Wondering if working on my story is completely pointless yet wanting to spend time working on it...

So... many... things....

Friday, August 12, 2011


Beethoven's 5th symphony. Sol sol sol do. Can you hear it? If not, I guess you'll just have to go to your favorite music playing site and listen to it yourself. Whatever the case, throughout the whole song, it has the same thing. Sol sol sol do. (you know the song on Sound of Music. 'Do, a dear, a female dear'... That would be the universal way of signifying what is the tonic of a chord, Do, always being the tonic.... and I could continue to go off on a major tangent, telling you all about it, but I will hold off.) Sol sol sol do over and over throughout the whole piece. Even changing to different keys, but the Sol sol sol do never goes away. From start to finish, it keeps coming back.

That would be called a motif.

And when I remember what it was in my life that I was going to compare a motif to, I will let you know. I'm not one to save a post in the middle of writing it and get back to it later... knowing me, I would just forget that I saved it in the first place.

Instead, I post half finished posts. ;) Aren't you readers lucky?