on THE MOST DISGUSTING THING EVER

Everyone will be happy to know that we have successfully been living in Florida for three weeks.

Everyone will NOT be happy to know that THIS IS GROWING IN MY LIVING ROOM:

GROSS.

Excuse me while I hurl my guts.

Yesterday, Ricky spotted a lizard crouched under the edge of the lovesac.  Excited (we like lizards), we moved the lovesac out of the corner to capture said lizard, thereby revealing these lovely moldy creatures growing out of my carpet. We told the property manager, who seemed really unperturbed by the whole thing, and someone's supposed to be coming today to look at it.  In the meantime, every time I take a breath my brain convinces me that I'm sucking in super-deadly poisonous spores and my lungs will collapse at any moment.

It turns out that our washing machine connection was leaking in the lanai next door...which probably means that we're going to have to pay for the repairs.  The lanai is outdoors, which means the water would've evaporated if it wasn't so dang humid!  I'm hoping it's not as bad as it looks (because we're really quite poor), but we all know that mushrooms are a sign of a well-developed mold system, which means replacing carpet, floorboards, etc.  Feel free to send prayers our way.

If you need me, I'll be sitting here wearing a surgical mask.

EDIT: We never did find the lizard.

on playing catch-up

You know that feeling after you haven't blogged (or journaled) for a long time?  That feeling where you look at your most recent entry and realized all the stuff you've done since then?  Being completely overwhelmed at the thought of writing all those painful play-by-play descriptions of life events that will, inevitably, take hours to accomplish?  Procrastinating the inevitable blogging for that very reason?

Yeah.

Luckily, technology has provided a useful tool for blogging procrastination: the digital camera.  With this handy device, you can take pictures of everything you do, storing these photos neatly on your hard drive and telling yourself that this makes up for not writing about said life events....because look at all the pictures you have!!!

I looked at a picture on my computer the other day, and I had no idea what it was of or why I took it.  The only indication I had of its identity or value was the iPhoto album it was in, and that wasn't much help.  Cool, huh? 

As far as record-keeping goes, Katie's writing > Katie's picture-taking.

I realized this morning that I have been fastidiously updating my other blog and leaving this one woefully neglected.  So, utilizing my pictures (ha), here is a recap of the last month:

We went to Philadelphia!

The weekend before we left for Florida, we drove Ricky's car up to my parents' house to leave with them until my dad can drive it down to FL on Labor Day weekend. While we were up there, we decided to visit Philadelphia!  (SUCH a good choice.)

Ricky had a cheesesteak!  (I had a gyro.  I'm unconventional.)

We met up with Angela! :D (In line for the Liberty Bell...)

We saw the Liberty Bell!

Ben Franklin's grave!

The churchyard was closed, but when has that ever stopped someone from taking pictures through the gate?

We waited in a super long line to see Independence Hall!

We saw Independence Hall!

And the inside! 

These are the stairs from the musical 1776, which happens to be the BEST MUSICAL EVER.  A security guard was eying me suspiciously as I snuck away from the tour group to take this. 

George Washington's original chair! (Excuse the blurry--there was some crowd jostling.)

We saw Valley Forge!

We saw a free "Shakespeare on the Green" play (Much Ado About Nothing) at the Washington Memorial Chapel at Valley Forge!  (And it was awesome!)

And this, at the Washington Memorial Chapel used bookstore.  HAHA!

We took pictures with these right before we left BV for FL:

Really, we were driving the moving truck out of town when we stopped to take these.  How could we not?  And yes, I am wearing the same shirt from Philadelphia, but all my clothes were packed!

We moved to Florida!  

And man, is it beautiful or what?  You forget what the sunset looks like when you've had mountains in the way for three years.  Cameras never do them justice.

Whew.

Again, I know pictures don't do my life justice, but that's a whole lot to catch up on.  I'll try to do better from now on. :)  In the meantime, Ricky's first day of law school orientation was yesterday (yes, I did take a picture of it) and my first day of grad school orientation is TODAY!  Hopefully it'll mostly be students my age, because so far all the people Ricky and I have met are a lot older than we are;  surprisingly enough, all the law students that we go to church with are in their 30s...plus, they all have at least one child, so 24-year-old Ricky feels pretty young, and 21-year-old me feels practically like an infant.

While we're on the subject of Floridians, Ricky and I are also trying to find someone who understands our sense of humor.  Just one person would be great, really.  All the married-with-children couples here kind of smile politely when we, the Jensens, start some sort of verbal banter that the dear Bagleys or Ondriceks (or any of our VA friends, really) would pick up on.  It's like playing Wii tennis when the other person can never reach the ball in time to hit it back. 

In the meantime, I'm in the process of refinishing our dresser and finishing the apartment decorating.  And by "finishing," I mean "putting up stuff we already have," which isn't a whole lot.  Further decorating will come when I find a job, hopefully at a Books-A-Million or Barnes and Noble or Borders or something equally up my ally, and have a little extra money.  Between law school books, grad school books, and buying off doctors to give me prescription medication (a.k.a., spending $130 to sit in the room for five minutes, tell them what's wrong with me, and have them sign a piece of paper), we're not too eager to spend any more money.  Unless it's on dark chocolate ice cream, because I could REALLY go for some of that right now.

on church history

There are a few shocking realizations that begin to sink in during the final weeks before a big move.

"Ricky!" I wailed two weeks ago. "I have to leave the antique mall behind!"

"Ricky!" Last week. "What about autumn?  What about the mountains?"

"Ricky!" This week. "We're going to be so far away from everything!"

And by "everything" I meant "all the cool sites in Virginia and the northeast," of course.  Including the LDS historic sites in upper New York, which Ricky and I have both wanted to see for ages, but it's not exactly like Idaho and South Carolina are right next door.  So before we shoved ourselves all the way in the bottom corner of the United States, we decided to take a road trip!

Luckily, before I married Ricky, I considered the length of time I could spend in a car with him before going crazy.  Even luckier, that time extends well past nine hours, which is the length of time it takes to drive from Buena Vista to Palmyra. (In case anyone is concerned, no amount of time with Ricky would ever drive me crazy.  Duh!)  So on Wednesday, we loaded up the car (mine--Ricky's doesn't have cruise control, and that wasn't about to happen), started up The Three Musketeers on the iPod, and drove to the very edge of the country to a bed and breakfast on the shores of Lake Ontario.  

 

It looks like the edge of the world, doesn't it?  They don't call them the Great Lakes for nothing.

We got to the area just in time for the Hill Cumorah Pageant, and I was practically jumping up and down with excitement, so we grabbed some seats and spent some wonderful time talking to the actors roaming the audience.  

It was a long wait.

 (You don't have to tell me that he's the cutest thing you've ever seen.  I already know.)

Once the pageant started, it was awesome!  It was exactly what I was expecting, which is good, because I was expecting a lot.  The pageant covers a condensed version of the story of the Book of Mormon, and it attracts hundreds of people each day of the performance.  We met people from Ohio, Utah, Idaho, Canada...it was great times.

The funny thing about large gatherings of Mormons, however, is that they often attract people who are upset about large gatherings of Mormons.  I don't get it.  These people didn't just disagree with my beliefs--they were yelling hateful things over a megaphone at families walking by with no provocation at all.  It wasn't an attack on the religion, but on the people.

I am blessed with the knowledge of my Savior, Jesus Christ.  I believe He is the Son of God.  I grew up singing a song in church that's become one of my favorites: 

Love one another as Jesus loves you,

Try to show kindness in all that you do,

Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought,

For these are the things Jesus taught.

The man with the megaphone didn't think I knew these things.

"Jesus died for you!" He screamed it like it was a curse. "He died for you, and you don't care!  You're nothing, Mormon!  Nothing!"

What that man failed to realize is no one is nothing to our Savior.

While Ricky and I waited for the crowd to clear before we left, we could hear the man's megaphoned voice become louder and more enraged over time behind us.  It was an interesting contrast to the pageant set in front of us, where somewhere offstage a track of "My Shepherd Will Supply My Need" was playing just loudly enough for us to hear it under the screaming. 

Where does someone learn so much hatred?  Learn to lash out at strangers he's never met and doesn't know, not out of welfare for their souls but only to ridicule them?  I don't know, and I'm glad I don't.

I didn't mean to spend so much time on unpleasantries, but it was a thought-provoking incidicent--overall, the pageant was wonderful.  I don't regret a second of it. 

Since it was late by that point, we drove back to our adorable bed and breakfast, admired the antique sheep decorations (I was thrilled) and slept until a home-cooked New England breakfast the next morning...complete with a welcome from the resident cat!  We drove back down to Palmyra to visit the Sacred Grove, the Smith Family Farm, and the Palmyra temple:

 It's a beautiful place.

 The farm!

(The doors of the temple have a depiction of the Sacred Grove in stained glass.)

After our fill of Palmyra sites, we looked at the clock--2:30.  It was a nine-hour drive back to VA. 

"Well," I said to Ricky. "It's a two-hour drive to Niagara Falls from here, and who knows when we'll ever be this close again."

You can guess what we chose to do.

I'll be honest--I was expecting Niagara Falls to be an over-hyped tourist trap.  And it was, indeed, very touristy, but TOTALLY WORTH IT.  Seriously, people, I could not take my eyes off this spectacle.

Canada (as seen behind our heads two pictures ago) has the better view, of course, but since we didn't have our passports we weren't complaining.  I wish I had taken a video of it, because the picture really doesn't do it justice, but whoa.  So cool.

SO COOL.

Deciding we had probably get back to VA in time for work the next morning, we left...at 5:30 in the evening.  Oops!  The GPS didn't know how to handle all the back roads in PA, so we were left with atlas navigating.  A couple wrong turns and gas station slurpees later, we were home at 3:00 a.m.  20 hours of traveling in two days.  Again, I repeat: so worth it.

I'm sorry this is the longest blog post ever, but it had to be done.  At least there are pictures this time, right?  Right?

on being torn to shreds

Ode to Long Pants

Long pants, long pants

Keep me safe from crawling ants

And attaching vicious plants

Oh, long pants.

Long pants, long pants

Wish I'd given you a chance

Even just a passing glance

Oh, long pants.

Long pants, long pants

If I had to take a stance

On climbing trees and rocks at slants

Wear long pants.

Beautiful, huh?

On the fourth of July, Ricky and I went on a hike with our awesome friends, Kathryn and Steve, up Little House Mountain.  (This mountain, for the record, is not that little.)

The trail is basically straight up the mountain.

I wasn't joking with my ode, either--a good portion of the trail is indistinguishable except for marks on the trees, so we spent a lot of time wading through sharp bushes and climbing over sharp rocks.  I lamented the lack of leg covering...two weeks later, I still have marks on my shins that haven't healed.  I'd like to think I'm not a complete weenie, but I was seriously glad to reach the overview.  We set up camp on the rock outcropping, roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, and watched no less than 10 fireworks shows from our cozy spot on the mountain!  All in all, it was a pretty epic way to spend the fourth of July.

 (All picture credits go to the lovely Kathryn, due to my neglect to charge batteries for my camera.)

The next morning's descent had all of our ankles shaking, but it was definitely preferable to climbing!  Also, I escaped tick-free, which is always great news.  On the way down, we passed a teenage couple who had taken up residence scarcely five feet from the trail...and hadn't bothered to put on clothes that morning.  Or, at least, that was my assumption, seeing as their arms and shoulders were bare and they had a tarp clutched up to their necks as we approached.  Yeah, it was a little awkward.  It got even more awkward when we temporarily lost the trail and had to double back from the other direction, pausing briefly to say hello and comment on the nice weather.  

For the record, Steve and Ricky decided to prove themselves true mountain men and forge their own trail.  While Kathryn and I were exchanging pleasantries with the now-clothed couple, those two were attempting to rejoin the trail without backtracking.  After a short game of "Marco Polo" and some ax-swinging by Ricky, we were reunited.  Oh, the wilderness.

on goal-setting

my 99 in 999 list

Updates to follow!

Feel free to make your own.  It takes forever to come up with 99 things, but even making the list is rewarding!

on birth

Remember last week when I said I was going to write something on superheroes?  Yeah, that was a lie.  This week, however, I have caught up with Sunday Scribblings.  "The topic is birth?" I thought disappointedly when I saw the prompt. "Is there anyone who isn't trying to convince me to have a baby?"

(Although I do feel justified in buying the occasional, exceptionally adorable baby clothing item now that I'm married, there is no bun in the oven, no pea in the pod, and no other clever food-related euphemism cooking in my kitchen.)

Babies are an interesting bunch.  I don't have one, and I don't remember being one, and I don't know one that can speak very intelligently, so all my experience is speculation--but how weird it must be to be a baby!  Whenever movies portray the thoughts of a wee one, the narrative is always in full sentences and coherent statements, as if the baby has the thoughts of an adult but no way to convey them.  It's pretty obvious that this isn't true, but as hard as I try, I can't imagine living in that state of not knowing--not knowing how to speak, not knowing how to formulate a thought, not knowing how to keep food in your mouth.  When we're born, I think it's safe to say that we have no knowledge, no recollection, because we have no earthly experiences to know or recall.  In its very basic and original meaning--the appearance of a brand-new being--"birth" entails a complete lack of intellectual past (at least in a mortal sense). 

As you all know, because I am the product of years immersed in the study of the English language, I like words.  I am a Scrabble-playing, thesaurus-using nerd, and it's interesting to me the way in which we use the word "birth."  When a style of thought comes back around, we use it (e.g., "the rebirth of classicism").  When someone is spiritually converted, we use it (e.g., "born-again Christian").  However, even if something is new or transformed or cleaned, it can't really be birthed again, because being new or transformed or cleaned is relative to a state in which it was before.  Therefore, its new existence is based on past thoughts and mortal experiences to draw from, which influences the new state and is arguably different from the product of a experience-less birth in nature. 

"Katie, this is all very dull," you're thinking. "Is there a point here?"

Probably not.  Or, if there is, I haven't had the jolt of inspiration that will lead me to it.  Isn't it interesting, though, how we as a society are so inspired by "re-births" or "new beginnings"?  You really can't be re-born, or start over, but you can certainly change--which is what the process entails, but not what people call it.  Perhaps the word "birth" seems more final than "progression," but it also seems more idealistic and more sudden, which is probably the appealing part.  Births and deaths seem to require a lot less effort than all the stuff in the middle.

on the discovery of blog inspiration

Before you have a minor heart attack over my third post in two weeks, please know that I am not on my deathbed, have not lost the use of my legs, and am not on house arrest (...yet).  In other words, I am blogging out of desire--not because I no longer have the capabilities for doing anything else.  (If I WAS in any of those situations, I would expect each and every one of you to send me a baked good.  Consider this a trial run.)

I discovered something.  A writing kind of something, even, which are generally my favorite type of somethings.  The majority of the blogging universe is accentuated with pictures of people, their vacations, their pets, their adorable new blobby babies, and various other life happenings--unfortunately for you and the rest of the people that happen to stumble over my budding tree of a blog amidst the forest of blogosphere, pictures are not my forte....or even my mezzo-forte.  I enjoy TAKING them as much as the next person, but my brain lacks the motivation to ask my body to upload them here.  When it does try to muster up the stamina to request such a process, my body disagrees.  It's a messy process.  I avoid it.

What I'm getting at here is a justification for my lack of pictures.  Who needs pictures when you have words, right?  Language!  What seperates us from the beasts!  They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I'll take the kilo's worth of expository writing.  (Stop worrying, I won't really write that much.  Wimp.)

There are only so many things to write about, however, before everyone and their dog starts getting seriously bored.  It should be noted that dogs can't even read, but the I'm pretty sure the sheer volume of words overwhelms them into boredom.  With this in mind, I have made a discovery: http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com.  It's pure genius, and pure simplicity--they post a one-word promt every Saturday, and then you write a blog post that corresponds to the prompt the following week.  I will be doing this, mainly because I can't come up with a good reason to HAVE a blog if I'm not putting anything worthwhile in it, and what can be more worthwhile than weekly ramblings on an assigned topic?  I know--you can't think of anything either. 

In fact, since I'm sure a lot of you use your respective blogs as a primary journal, consider this an invitation for you to join me!  I've always felt that a journal should be more than a catalogue of life events and extend to capturing the "essence" of the journaler.  So bring it on, people!

This week's topic: superheros/heroines.  More to follow.