A Little ♥ and Soul

So I just wrote another blog post over here.  I've actually been posting there a little more there than I do here. Obviously. I like the layout I have there. And so far it has been anonymous. I don't know why I even started to write there other than I liked the layouts that were available. I was working graveyard shifts at the time and I guess I was bored enough to start a new blog where I knew I could keep it a little private.  But now that you know...I guess I can't do that anymore. Not that I have a huge audience here on dear ol' Blogger anyway. I don't know many people who even read blogs anymore. It's all about YouTube and Instagram and TikTok.  Whatever.  Anyway, go wander on over there. I don't feel like rehashing...or cutting and pasting...my WordPress blog over here. It's late. I have to work in the morning. And it has been a long day. But I got to see Greg. You'll have to go over there for more titillating reading about Greg.  Not that ther

I'm sitting in my room nursing a 7-up because I ate too much cheese with my dinner. Being lactose sensitive, edging on completely intolerant, totally sucks. Sometimes dairy doesn't bother my stomach too much, but I guess eating cheese on a completely empty stomach wasn't the greatest idea but damn, that artichoke and spinach cheese dip was delicious. Was it worth it in the end? Meh..I could go either way at the moment. I just had a memory pop up of my first swig of raw cow milk. It was delicious and totally didn't make my stomach hurt. Anyhow, at lot has been swirling around my brain as of late. Here is a bullet list of the swirling mess: When I left UVU a little over 10 years ago, my GPA was a 1.95. When I came back in the fall I had to fill out a satisfactory academic progress (SAP) report thing to 1.) get my financial aid released, and 2.) promise to get a C or better for the remainder of my time at UVU. Well, I barely got a D in sociology 1010 class in the fa

Every year around this time I start getting this little ache inside my chest. It kind of feels like you're homesick for someone who isn't there. As my mom's birthday approaches I start feeling homesick for her. I wish I could say that living life without her gets easier but it doesn't; in all reality I've learned to live with the dull ache that comes in waves.  I would give anything to have her here again.  Missing my mom comes in waves.  And today I'm drowning.

I feel like a broken record here on dear ol' blog. I write about my mom. A lot. Today in the United States is Mother's Day. This is year 20 that I haven't had my mom here on earth to celebrate her. We got to celebrate her one last time before she died 53 days later. I take the time to remember her on her birth and death dates (coincidentally, my sister and mom share the same day of birth.) but Mother's Day is always hard for me. I kind of gloss over the day all together and now that I'm sitting in the dark without my mom I'm sad. This year on July 4th my mom will have been gone 20 years. She has been gone for more than half my life. I don't remember doing anything especially out of the ordinary for my mom on Mother's Day when I was younger. Looking back I wish I wasn't such a selfish kid or at least paid more attention to special days to celebrate my mom. A year or two before my mom died, she wrote me a letter for Valentines Day. I think she knew s

So, turns out that I'm not so great at posting on here as I once was. I was even late to post my once yearly Dear Mom post. I really have no excuses other than I've been out of school for almost 3 weeks now since I started going full-time in January. I'm pretty sure the last time I posted anything was in October of last year. Anyway, let's play catch up! I started school full-time in January at BYU-Idaho's online program. I completed 28 credits this year. I'm ready for a break. The accreditation for the public health degree program changed but the changes only apply for the on-campus students and not the online students - aka me. So I'm going to have to transfer schools...again. I've been looking at grad programs in Portland, Oregon. Portland calls my name at least once a year, and I always research reasons to move back. The first time I moved there I was under prepared. I moved with the wrong person. When I move back, I'll be done with school

Dear Mom, I don't have the words to adequately describe what I'm feeling. You've now been gone longer than half my life. I miss you every day. I think about you at least once every day. I think about you whenever I do anything creative and then it hurts a little bit. I have a lot of half done projects. I read some notes that people sent you while you were sick. It didn't surprise me how many people loved you and respected you. I even learned a little bit about your childhood from a letter that your cousin Abby sent. It made me a little sad because you deserved a better childhood than you had. You persevered though and made sure my childhood was better than then the one you lived through. I wish I could remember what your voice sounded like. Those were the first memories I lost: the sound of your voice. I remember the one time some lady pulled into a parking spot you were waiting for at the bank and you cursed at her. I laugh at the memory now, but at the time I was