Tuesday, January 19, 2010
We've caved in...we're finally making a blog!
I never intended to start a blog until I had kids, but then I realized that we have so many adventures going on, even without children, that we really should get a move on and join the world of bloggers.
I was intimidated at first by the idea of blogging. I didn't know where to start. Do I tell about our missions, vacations, high school, college, graduate school, jobs...? I wanted to talk about everything. In the end, I took several months to reread ALL of my journals and mission letters, and took the highlights from everything. So here you go friends and family - Stacy and Oscar's life story.
Oscar's not quite as willing to go through and blog his entire life the way I am, so you won't get as much detail about young Oscar as you will about young Stacy. But I'll still put up as many pictures and details of young Oscar that I can.
These are some random memories I had while blogging, but I couldn't find a good place to post them. For now they're going here.
My dad tells me that Mike would have been a momma’s boy if not for me. I was never afraid of anything. I actually cried several times because they wouldn’t allow me on a ride at the amusement park since I was too short. So my older brother, of course, couldn’t let his baby sister show him up. I used to go on the tall, fast waterslides at water parks just because other kids (and adults) were too scared to do them. Now I’ve realized I never liked those slides. They burn my back, they give me a wedgie, and water rushes in my face and up my nose when I hit the water. When I went to Blizzard Beach a few months ago, I didn’t do the Summit Plummet because I knew I wouldn’t enjoy it. But that childish part of me wishes I had done it just to say that I did. I’ll bet if I’d had more than 3 hours at the park I would have eventually done it. But it was crowded and we didn’t have much time, so why wait in line for a slide I wouldn’t like?
As for the rest of me, from what I can tell from my journals, I didn’t seem to have any idea where I was or what I was doing. My entries are very scattered with sentences jumping from one event to the next without any cohesive structure. Sometimes I babble off really long, grocery-list entries, while others are as short as “I bowled terribly today.” Interestingly enough, though, I make the most sense and I sound the most sure when I bear my testimony. There’s some really beautiful entries in my journals about various spiritual experiences I had while growing up, some of which brought me to tears simply from rereading them. Those are some pretty priceless entries.
As for the rest – meh. Some of its pretty funny, though. Sometimes I know I was trying to be funny, and other times it’s just funny to laugh at how silly I was.
Grades were really important to me. They defined me. I know I intentionally got bad grades in 7th grade since none of the popular kids got good grades. But since that didn’t help me gain any popularity (don’t ask me why I thought it would), I started working hard and doing well in school. I ended up getting a full ride Honor’s at Entrance scholarship to the University of Utah. I had a 3.9 High School GPA and a 30 on my ACT. I had no idea how borderline that was at the time. I later found out that a friend of mine with a 3.8 and a 28 didn’t get the same scholarship, so apparently I was barely in the running for it.
I wasn’t keen on staying in Utah, but I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted to be able to afford college. And as much as I would have liked to try out for a bunch of music conservatories back east, or go to an IVY League school, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t afford the trips to audition at the various conservatories, so I couldn’t even think about that. And as for IVY league schools, I never had much of a hope for that since most schools outside of Utah insist on knowing your SAT scores. For whatever reason I could never do as well on the SAT as the ACT, even though I did well in my College Algebra, Trigonometry, and Grammar and Vocabulary SAT preparation courses and any SAT practice tests I took. My SAT wasn’t bad, but it certainly wouldn’t have gotten me into an IVY league school, let alone gotten me a full tuition scholarship. Too bad they base so much judgment of you off of a multiple choice test. I was always a better essay writer. Any of my teachers can attest to that. In fact, when I was in my freshman year of college, I intended to get a History Minor and took an American History Class. This was only for History majors and minors, not the History class all students take to fulfill general requirements. It was based almost entirely on analysis essays, and I had the highest grade in the class. Clearly I have a much better knack for analysis essays than multiple choice tests.
But I digress. Let’s get back to young Stacy. I’ve always been a bit of a goof ball. This story will probably only be funny to those who were involved in it, but it’s a perfect demonstration of my goofy personality. At Girl’s Camp one year, the theme was “Grandma’s Attic.” Each ward had to put on a skit, and we decided for ours that we would do a Ricky Lake Talk Show. The plot was that Grandma would get the surprise of her life – a chance to meet her favorite music band, the Geriatric Village People. The group was made up of a Bunny, a hula dancer, a pirate, and I was a clown. We came out singing “Macho, Macho Grandma,” and “Y. G. C. A.” It was awesome and hil-darn-larious!
Inspired by our hilarious leaders, my friend Jasmine and I put on our own goofy skit at Oakcrest Camp. It was flipping through the channels, the first one being Barney and Friends. As the channel changes, Barney keeps making special appearances in the background and disrupting the show. The best was when he interrupts the Aerobics Channel and accidentally gets smacked up the head by me doing jumping jacks.