future/present

Do you ever reflect on your life and wonder if this is where you meant to end up? Have you ever considered the way you were as a child and an adult (ha) simultaneously? I remember, as a child, thinking about all the great things that would happen when I was an adult. However, there is a tendency for children to perceive their future selves as different people from who they actually are. I am the same girl I was in kindergarten. I think that is why it is so easy to reconnect with friends from high school. You have no secret personality traits from them, for who could keep that locked up for so long?

Where am I going with this? Maybe it's time to lessen the focus (just a bit) on the future. Yes, the future is important and plans must be made. But what about the present? You have forever to fulfill the future, but only now to fulfill the present. There will always be a next week, next summer, next year- focusing on that discounts what can be done today. Not that goals are terrible; they are absolutely necessary. But a life can't be built upon possible goals. It can be built on concrete actions that will lead to the accomplishment of goals.

Intelligent Conversations

I just rediscovered this unpublished post from WAAAAY back in October after a night of hanging out with friends in a random city (Tours) in France. This particular night was one of the BEST nights of my life. And I know that Russ and Janna agree with me!

Quotes from a night of fun in Tours, France

Russ: Has anyone else ever called underwear gaunch?
..............................................................................................................

Kat: When you say came out, do you mean out of the womb?
..............................................................................................................

Alyssa: I kind of really want to work for Google when I
wake up.
..............................................................................................................

Easter potatoes

I love those times when something happens and I say, "that was awesome, I have to write it down." And I don't. Maybe sometimes I do. But not very often. Life is too short to go throughout without all the built-up hilarious moments. So I have one story and more will follow!

It's Easter. My family (and my friend Alyse) are gathered around the table. The food looks delicious, and will turn out to be, in fact, delectable. My mom wants to set the tone and adjusts the sound system. A low, droning organ tone emanates from the CD player. We all look at each other in slight confusion.
"I feel like I'm at a funeral," Dad says. Mom finds the non-deathlike Easter appropriate music and takes a seat. We all excitedly ask about the potato dish, which is a must-have at every Easter meal. It quickly transforms into a discussion about the correct terminology for said potato dish.
-"Can you pass the funeral potatoes, please?" Casey asks, knowing all too well how Mom feels about this new "Utah" phrase.
-"They're NOT funeral potatoes! This is a celebration! You can't call my potatoes that!" Mom says with exasperation.
-"What do we call them then?" Casey asks, smiling.
-"RESURRECTION potatoes!" A brilliant sibling suggests. We all laugh. And Resurrection potatoes they became.

A moment in the life of the Linford family. I love it!

Silence!

One time, during the metro strike in October in Paris, Janna and I decided to try the metro anyway because of a ward Halloween party we were excited about. The number of trains had increased significantly but the stops and train were still congested because of the Rugby World Cup. I believe Scotland was playing that night, and while we walked during our transfer, there were a ton of Scots who kept shouting out the first line of their annoying pop theme song over and over again. I finally yelled "SHUT UP!" (once I established that I was far enough away for no one to realize it was me.) A stunned silence settled over the crowd. First of all, I shouted it out in English, and second of all, the Scots probably thought that any English-speaker would be there for the cup and would therefore support the singing. They quickly recovered, however, and continued on with the first line of the internationally popular song.

I surprised myself that night. Brought silence to dozens through a voice that many people hardly ever hear. Sweet! Maybe I needed it.

YES!

Every night before I go to sleep, I look up at my ceiling where the word "YES" has been scrawled in night glo-paint. I've never asked why it's written there. The first night I moved in, I turned off the light, climbed up to bed, and there it was. Is it a self-affirmation? "YES...I have great skills, including intelligence and the ability to read upside down words on ceilings." Or perhaps it is the answer to a question: "Will you marry me?", "Can it get any better than this?", or "Is this cereal as good as I think it is?" (Demetri Martin: YESSS).
It's at a time like this, when I'm supposed to be coming up with an awesome paper topic, that a three-letter word on the ceiling can suddenly become captivating, sort of. Slightly captivating, if you will. (I'm pretty sure that's an oxymoron).

Anyway, it's hard to go wrong with YES. Especially for me, considering the question: "Should I be doing something else right now?"

YESSSS.

Monkey see, monkey do

I came home from school today with an overwhelming need to relax. So I grabbed some celery sticks and peanut butter and turned on the t.v. What was on, you ask? A Spanish-language program about the plight of starving monkeys in India. (No, as a matter of fact, I am not making this up). Since I'm fluent in Spanish (okay, now that's a lie), I decided to watch for a bit. The monkeys kept snatching things from a vegetable cart until finally a basket of apples spilled over and the owner got furious. It was very similar to Abu's antics in the movie Aladdin. It's sad what can be related to Disney movies and how I can always make the connection. (ha!) I actually remember reading an article about the monkeys in New Delhi in the Economist last year. The monkeys don't have anywhere to go because of all the developments in the city and its surrounding areas. I heard they were considering moving the monkeys to a sanctuary which sounds like it might be the best option. Save the monkeys in India! (don't hear that one a lot!) So that was a visually-enlightening 10 minutes.

life-changing icicles

This isn't related to travel...the reason why this blog was originally created. But what can I say? Travel to me now means hopping into Dad's car and scooting up and east of the I-15 to Alpine. Every once in a while. Other than that, it's Provo/Orem, baby! What small lives we transportation-less college students lead.

So I've been doing a lot of pondering lately. Okay, let's be honest, when am I not doing a lot of pondering? If you think about something for long enough, you'll begin to question the validity of its existence and try to connect the dots in a different fashion. For example, take a word. Preferably three or four syllables. Better yet, take "California." Say it 50 times and you'll begin to wonder if you're even saying it right anymore and might take the Schwarzenegger route- "CAHL-EE-FOR-NEE-AH."
By the way, I seem to have developed an online spell-checker (I don't know when these things happen). How the heck is Schwarzenegger in it and "okay" isn't? And apparently Orem should be Oreo. I'm Tokay (replacement) with that. And I should probably honor it with an Oreo shake every time I'm there. All in the name of tribute.

Anywho, this is life post-Paris. Kind of normal. Normal is Tokay; it's great. But switching things up is great too. I had all kinds of goals for my return to BYU. Unfortunately, I think I've stepped into that world of getting caught up in work/school things and having too little time for play. (I still feel like a four year old every time I talk about playing). And the thing about goals is that you actually have to take steps to accomplish them. (I know! who knew?) Life within a comfort zone leaves something to be desired. So I am switching it up a bit. Thank goodness for the life-changing inspiration that icicles can bring. The icicles lining my window are long, imperfect and jagged. At the same time, they are incredibly beautiful and mysterious. (Has anyone actually seen an icicle being formed?) Life is imperfect. There is no way around it. But it has so much potential to be beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, I discovered the album I'm listening to (Chevrotine by Holden) at a store in Paris. The music flows over you and feels like a floating stream winding around corners bringing content to everyone it surrounds. My favorites are "Ce que je suis", "Charlie, Rosie et moi", et "Comme une fille." Ecoutez!

http://armelle.mocke.club.fr/home.htm