Fire

I've been thinking a lot about prophets lately.

I wrote a bunch, trying to explain my feelings right now but deleted it because in reality it all boils down to this, friends:


I feel this truth like a fire in my bones- God has not abandoned His children! He has called Prophets to guide us, and i know that. with all of my heart, i know it! for the past few weeks i have felt this burning inside my heart and i think if i don't tell you all, i really might burst open! Thomas S. Monson is a Prophet of God.


and even if you don't share my belief, i want to invite you to watch the general conference of my church this weekend, and see for yourself our Prophet. God's Prophet and Apostles today. Hear them speak, and then ask God if their words are not true.

here's the link:
https://www.lds.org/general-conference/watch?lang=eng

hear and ask.
and then listen for an answer.
it may not come loudly, or immediately, or with any grand gesture.
But if you sincerely want to know for yourself whether or not God still speaks to His children through Prophets, then ask Him.
and an answer will come.

it did for me, and i know it can for you, too.

Weasel II

hi. 

picture overload. 

please bask in her matchless beauty for the next few minutes.

okay, thanks:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WEASEL.

YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO ACTUALLY BE 17.

Jenae is almost 17, and it's not cool.

she doesn't want me to post any of her birthday pictures on Facebook, but i never promised that i wouldn't put any on here. muhahaha. 

anyway, i barely finished editing all of them the other night, and HOLEY MOLEY WHEN DID SHE BECOME AND ADULT?! 

also, golly, is Jenae a babe. 

she's turning 17 this Saturday and i am NOT okay with that. 

anyway, i couldn't resist posting one photo.

more to come, for sure. 

but i'll wait for her actual birthday for that. 

okay, she's beautiful. bye. 

Tommy

So I have a prophet. 

"I" meaning, we. and "we" meaning my church.

His name is Thomas Spencer Monson

and he's a prophet just like moses or Abraham but anyway, the next general conference for my church is coming up, so I've been making my way through last conference's talks. I usually listen to them on my phone while i'm getting ready for bed. and the prophet, Thomas S. Monson spoke at the very end, so his was the last talk i listened to. anyway. 

Wednesday night, i fell asleep while his talk was still going and so in my dream, president Monson was talking about freshly baked bread and depression, haha. 

that actually happens a lot; sounds from reality seeping into dreams. 

so don't judge me, it's a perfectly normal occurrence. haha.

anyway, so i'd been thinking about the Prophet all day on Thursday, so that afternoon i decided to paint him! because i haven't painted in awhile.

there's his original Navy picture on the left (Evelyn as my screensaver in the background :)), and my sketch on the right. i traced his eyes and nose because i wanted them to be perfect, and when i freehand, things get way too messy.

bada bing bada boom. and i was super happy with it, but when i came home from work, i saw that his poor eye on the left side of the picture hadn't dried fully before i did his pupil, and the darker color spread all over. ugh. 

otherwise, it was practically perfect and i was actually quite proud.

ignore the fact that they're sideways. 

so i tried to fix it. 

here's the final product. 

over all, i'm satisfied but UGH that eye still bugs me. way better than it was, though. 

not like he wants this portrait, but i'm gonna send it to him. 

just cause i can. 

and because i sent Boyd K Packer his last month and he wrote me back.

maybe good ol' Tom will, too??

hahaha i CAN DREAM, ALRIGHT.

now on to the silly things:

Dear Seth Johnson likes to edit my instagram pictures into 'romantic collages'.

shout out to my oldest sister who is a sewing WIZARD and made me these star wars pajama pants for christmas. HOLLA. and they match my ANH tee perfectly. 

ignore my thumb in front of the lense. 

the selfies have officially begun. sorrynotsorry. blame my glasses, i'm obsessed with them. 

also, this conversation between me and Oscar. gah, it's so tiny, maybe if you click on it you can zoom in

Oscar despises frogs. absolutely LOATHES them. 

i thought i was a comedic genius.

and finally, this letter that my mom found among old Christmas cards. 

from me to Derek circa 2001. 

TGIF

Barfi!

I don't mind foreign films, even though you have to read subtitles the whole time.
I'm not super into bollywood, so when a friend recommended this movie on Facebook the other day, i was beyond skeptical.
but on a whim i pressed play.
IT WAS BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT AND I LOVED IT AND I CRIED LIKE A BABY.

not that you have to cry for a movie to be good, because you don't. but goodness gracious, i whole heartedly recommend this film:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2082197/?ref_=nv_sr_1

It's called, "Barfi!"

so so so so so so so so so good.
watch it right now, please.

Linebacker

Today's lookin' good. 

and it's only 2:45.

So yesterday i tried to be gutsy and impressive, and i thought it'd worked. i was giddy all evening.

and then i woke up at 4 am, sat straight up in bed and whispered, "oh, NO. what have i DONE." 

and then i figuratively crawled under a rock and died of humiliation.

you see, the golden haze from the events of the previous afternoon had cleared and i realized that instead of  being breathtaking in a coy way, i was breath taking in a literal, i'm knocking the wind out of you, i should try out for the NFL, kind of way. but i didn't realize it until it was far, far, far too late.

(^from Strongbad Emails: Children's Book. hilarity.)

luckily, i'm this awkward all of the time. so this particular embarrassment was only slightly out of character and was easily chuckled away by the other party.

 BUT NEVER BY ME. 

i will never forget this. 

i will lay awake at night replaying those ten seconds for the next week, picturing all the things i could have done differently. i swear. hahaha. ugh. 

an entire team of Hollywood's best writers could never assemble a rom-com as intricately clumsy as my love life. nor one so unbearably awkward. i am matchlessly inept. 

but i promise, i really do try to behave normally. 

i TRY to be coy. i try to flirt. it doesn't work. not the way i picture in my head.

but somehow, SOMEHOW, it is working. 

and it's surprising and happy.

so three cheers for a boy who is okay with my two left feet and my blundering head.

and who can deal with the rough edges. 

and with me saying all this on the internet.

somebody give him a trophy.

300

it's the 300th post. holla.
so i got glasses yesterday.

and i wanted to show my nieces and nephews that i am now officially Harry Potter.
i also feel a little bit like Harriet the Spy.
FIRST actual SELFIES ON THE BLOG. WHAT?
k bye.

bad eyes, bad back, good friends, good sister

Hi, i got glasses today and it's the strangest thing i've ever experienced. honestly.
also,
I saw X-rays today of me and Jenae's backs side to side at the Chiropractor's today. we have el saaaame spine, y'all. all out of wack. but i have way bigger shoulder and hip bones. hmm.

here are some pictures from the last week and a half or so:

 this little old man rides past our house every day around 1pm, while i'm reading at my desk. he's adorable.

mah first ever Chipotle. as good as they say. 

My pop got a letter from a friend in Australia, and this was the stamp. yes, all hail this infant. 

 rip Trogdor cup :(((

 Ryan, i will drive to "Four Corners" to pick you up every single day if you want, because i get this scenery on the way.

one extra large Hawaiian Pizza for freeeeeeeee. holla. thanks Gina ;)

did i mention that i'm the stage director for the Madera South High School musical? because i am. and i'm going to kill one of the punk little kids any day. watch for me on the news. i'm serious.

March 8 was HAPPY HANSEN DAY. WAHOOOO. I got the HUFFLEPUFF HANSEN award! YAY!! thanks natalie jean ;) 

Right: his concentration face = the angriest thing i've ever seen, haha.

Left: the best ice cream i've ever had. oh and Curtis telling me that he's Ryan's wife and that i am 'the other woman'. hahaha. it's true, though. 

told ya.

 he approved of an 80's floral dress, encouraged me to get an African-y lookin' jumper, AND got seconds of the dinner we made together even though it was weird tasting. so obviously he's a keeper.

And by the way, Mallorie is literally my twin.

also, round of applause for Mallorie for not hating me after i made her a third wheel. 

she's a keeper, too that Mal.

MALSTER HAK AND M-DAWG HANSEN, BEST FRY-ENDS FO LYFE

hi, unshredded shredded cheese.

hi, that's my spine. with an ouchie curve right at the bottom, which according to my chiropractor, is hereditary and developed as if it was normal when i was 9 or ten. 

and hey look, there's jenae on the right. weird, weird weird. 

speaking of the weasel, i was taking her birthday pictures the other day, and caught her face right when she noticed a giant bee by her head. HILARIOUS. i can actually hear her man scream in this picture. 

she's a babe.