love is a word so small

Well, it's official. I'm a missionary now.

I didn't like telling people about my service mission because I hadn't been called or set apart yet, and I've kind of learned not to count on anything I plan because the Lord can have different ideas. But I guess He's as pleased with my decision to be here and do this as I am. So, I'm a missionary.

It's pretty great. I'm decorating my office today (again, didn't want to do anything I might have to reverse if my mission didn't work out) and probably calling the people who will get me my tag.

(I wouldn't say it's an ulterior motive of serving a mission [um, pretty sure I'm doing that for the right reason], but I hope that the mantle that is now upon me is as attractive as everyone says it is. What's better than a missionary that you can date? I would think that everyone would be so on top of that opportunity. We shall see.)

(I hope I don't get in trouble for that last paragraph. It's maybe half a step further than my dad [and even my supervisors] have been going.)

It's a good feeling. :)

Edit: Word from the Stake President is I can even go to the temple! I'm grateful for the opportunity to make this more like a regular mission and to make these covenants. And, despite what my Dad said to make the Bishop hesitant about letting me, being able to go to my sister's sealing in the spring is just a bonus.


"Now Three" ~ Vienna Teng

while you retreat to your comforts

I have this self-worth issue. It's something I've done for years but only just realized. It's easily fixed, too, but I will have to work.

Here it is: I can't go over to someone's place without a gift of some sort. Usually food, or returning an item.

Most recently, I went to visit my buddy DZ[1] at his apartment. It was totally just to say hi and maybe chat for a while, but I didn't feel comfortable showing up at his door without an offering. So I gathered up some peaches and apples to give him. Then I felt like it was "worth it" to come over.

Another notable instance happened nearly 3 years ago. I wanted to talk to my friend Robert, but I not only couldn't drop in (I had to make an appointment) I had to make a batch of cookies to take over as well.[2]

Pretty much, I don't think my mere presence is sufficient for a social visit.

See? Easily fixed, but a clear self-worth issue and something that I will need to work on. If ever I have a social life again. :/


[1] He's really my friend dzhonatan, but at my house we call him DZ and that name just screams for a buddy rather than a friend, hence my buddy DZ. Who probably didn't know his exalted nickname.
[2] I don't know WHAT he thought of that -- though I have some ideas: bribe (failure, he didn't tell me what I wanted to know); flirting (awkward, as he's now married and, well, I wasn't flirting); trying to get rid of food (I hope so, even though the cookies were fresh-baked).




"Watershed" ~ Vienna Teng

just stopped believing in happy endings

In this post, there be spoilers. But chances are, they're for books you're not familiar with, so fear not.


I, like many other girls, like to fantasize about meeting my own personal Dawsey Adams. What, you've never heard of him? How about Casey Acosta? Hmm. Very well; Gilbert Blythe.

(Or, you know, Fitzwilliam Darcy, since he has an undue hold on the hearts of women and girls.)

Anyway.

I would like to meet him. But I worry that I won't be his Juliet, or Sammy, or Anne. What then? What do you do when you meet someone that personifies your favorite fictional crush, and you aren't the right character for them?

Pretty much these are the things I wonder about.

(No, really. Should I pick my all-time favorite fictional character and start emulating the characteristics of his soulmate? Would that make things work out for me? But what if I try to emulate Sammy for my possible Casey and a Dawsey walks into my life? What if I never meet anyone who meets fictional standards at all?)


"Stray Italian Greyhound" ~ Vienna Teng

in the fall, we circle through the leaves

There’s such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I’m such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn’t be half so interesting.

--Anne of Green Gables

I was thinking just that same thing -- how talking to different people I create different personas. I'm pretty sure that most of them are at least aspects of the real me, but I guess sometimes I wonder who the realest me is.

In the meantime, I will enjoy being twice as interesting as I would be if I were only one person.

And in other news, I have greatly enjoyed the fall colors. I don't like reusing blog titles so my quintessential autumn song can remain in last year. But it sure was nice, until it got so cold...but I hope that it will be at least a little warm at least a bit longer. Otherwise I will be saddened by the October we have.

"Antebellum" ~ Vienna Teng

dark curtains drawn by the passage of time

Happy Birthday to this blog! I can't believe it's been a whole year since I started. All those creative thoughts rattling around my head (thanks, Engl 218R) and I never gave voice to most of them. Maybe someday they'll reappear. Maybe someday I'll have more creative thoughts.

It's interesting that this is the anniversary because today marks the start of my new life as a cancer-free online seminary secretary/coordinator. Phew, it's a big job! But very exciting and I'm happy.

The year saw lots of changes (most of them not documented, of course). I wonder what the next year will bring?

"Recessional" ~ Vienna Teng

this moment now. and this moment, now.

Some reflections on my recent road trip:

If I ever have an epiphany, I think it'll be more like a ton of feathers than anything. Because, believe it or not, a ton of feathers will probably hit you with about the same force as a ton of bricks. Maybe a ton of books? I need to ponder this so I can use the appropriate expression -- if I ever have an epiphany.

I can count all my friends on one hand -- in binary! (Except, I can't count at all in binary, so I just told a lie.)

I love proving that you can have guy friends. Like, just plain friends that are guys. I have two or three, so I'm super lucky.

It's different, watching devotional in a classroom rather than watching it in my living room.

Despite the quietness of some of the people I visited yesterday, my listening to talking ratio was still like 3:1. I win at making other people talk.

I try to make eavesdroppers' lives more meaningful. Best way so far: the removal of the hairpiece. Talking to my accessories is up there, too.

And, finally, I love to drive, but David Archuleta gives me a headache (especially a David Archuleta/Taylor Swift mix; urgh).


"Recessional" ~ Vienna Teng

marveling at the bounty our days contain

I love being in a family ward this week. Mum and I went to Enrichment last night; it was based off Oprah and the theme was Simplify.

You know, that doctrine that is so deep, and so true.

This is why Seriously, So Blessed is funny.

(Would've been funnier if the font on our magnets had been Papyrus, but I appreciated the Arial because it seemed to at least make an effort toward being simple.)


"In Another Life" ~ Vienna Teng

fingers kissed the keys

I have one point of great pride.

118 words

Typing Test

And that is it.

"Decade and One" ~ Vienna Teng
[I'm gonna have to find something else if I ever make a piano post, but this one fits so well!]

a fierce embrace, a word of thanks

Someday, I want to be talking to a friend that needs some help. I won't know what to say, but I'll do my best. And then they'll say, "You just said exactly what I needed to hear."

Then I will feel like my life has been worth living.


A similar desire: to be talking to a friend when I need some help, and they say exactly what I need to hear, so I can tell them that. Because a friend like that is always nice to have around.


On a related note, does anyone actually say exactly what people need to hear? I mean, there's never any way to know beforehand, and doing something like that by accident seems too unlikely for it to happen as often as it appears to.

But that's just my thought.

"Say Uncle" ~ Vienna Teng

to be blind, only my hands to guide me

Last night I was trying to get to sleep (verdict on new mattress: really not a fan) and remembered that when I was a kid (sleeping in perhaps that same bed), I would try and bury my face in my pillow at night. Why? Because one day at the library my teacher and another grownup were talking about how if there was a nuclear bomb, the light would be so bright it would blind us in our sleep. So I would hide my eyes to try and prevent that from occurring.

Even now, I would much rather be vaporized instantly than have to live blind. My sight is precious to me, maybe because it is the physical feature that is most in jeopardy.

On Friday Mom and I went to the LASIK doctor. We watched a movie about the procedure and had a bunch of tests that were very hard for me because I had to keep my eyes open. I blink a lot, especially while wearing glasses, which I had to wear all week in preparation for this appointment. We also did the letter-reading, with dilation and without. I am a much less than ideal ophthalmology patient, because not only do I blink a lot (turns out I have dry eyes), I am photophobic and I hate eyedrops.

I'm also a much less than ideal candidate for LASIK. My eyesight is so very bad, my eye so very long, my cornea so very thin, that it just wouldn't work. In fact, I have ... well, there's a word the doctor used to describe it that I can't remember (it had 'high' in it somewhere), and he also said, "We don't like to call it this, but it's also known as pathological myopia." So I have pathological myopia. And they refuse to do LASIK for me.

Since, you know, I needed another reason to avoid contact sports, they also told me that my eyes are in danger of retinal detachment (which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like). This pleases me, for I have never really liked contact sports (this is like lacrosse, right? And soccer and football and a really aggressive game of ultimate frisbee?) and it turns out that my dislike is founded in a subconscious knowledge that it would be really dangerous for me. Who wants to go blind from a tackle?

I'm still reconciling myself to the fact that my eyesight will just continue to get worse as I get older, but I think it will be okay. I love being able to see what I can (and since it's morning and I haven't put my contacts in yet, it's somewhat less than usual) and I hope everyone appreciates their ability to view the world around them.

"Now Three" ~ Vienna Teng