Girl With a Head of Camera

The Rabbit Room

One night as I lay completely unaware of the world around me

in bed, I dreamt of waking in a room of a different kind. This other room was similar to the one I grew up in; the isolated room that was too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, and looked out on the wooded back yard. But I didn't notice the view or the temperature as I sat up with my blanket pulled up to my chin. As I first surveyed the room, the vanity in the corner seemed to grow legs and begin walking towards me. I looked around and saw that the walls were following suite until my room was the size of a closet. I sat motionless and staring straight forward until I was sure the walls had stopped shrinking. When I finally looked around again I saw that the room had been stripped of all my photos, the glass door leading out to the deck and both my closets. The only thing that remained on the wall was the light wood door that lead out into the hallway. The only source of light was a single fluorescent light bulb hanging directly above my head.

When I looked back at the vanity I saw that most of the drawers were open with clothes spilling out in a typical fashion. Suddenly, out popped the heads of two nutria and I recoiled

at the thought of the combination of their long beaver teeth that were undoubtedly the color of a rusty tin can, matted brown greasy fur, as well as their rat tails. This fear was strange since I had always wanted to feed the nutria that lived in the watery ditch outside the grocery store near my house. In eighth grade a girl in my homeroom had one as a pet and I was jealous because I thought they were cute. Nevertheless I tried to run for the door, but just as I moved the nutrias climbed out of the drawer and across the burnt orange carpet. I took one long look,

jumped back on the bed, and sat there with my eyes firmly shut. When I woke the next day I reflected on t he strange dream, particularly the moment I looked a the creatures before jumping to the bed. Then I realized the animals I saw in the dream were not nutria at all, but brown bunny rabbits with fluffy brown fur, cotton ball tails, small teeth, and twitching noses.

I have mixed feelings about being back in Provo. Almost all of the negatives are stemming from the fact that I am graduating after this year and I'm not sure what to do. I am just about done unpacking and it feels like I've never left. My Mac also was upgraded and not I have a web cam and have spent too much of my time playing around w

with photo booth. See for yourself:

Oh, and check out my book for my swimsuit class:

I think I should combine the two and make a patriotic bikini with the high bottoms.

A Shoutout to Lady Di

But probably not the lady you're thinking of; Lady Di is my grandmother's family nickname. She doesn't read my blog, but I want to write about her anyway because I found some old pictures of her that I want to show off.

(This is my favorite and I think the crease in the middle only adds to its charm.)

Yes, my grandmother is more attractive than yours.

I've noticed that most young people find their looks to be completely ordinary, but every time I look at pictures of older people as youth they look so radiant.

I haven't seen my grandma in almost two years because they are serving as the temple presidents in the Dominican Republic. I miss seeing them regularly but I know that they are doing the right thing and that they have grown to love the people they serve. Both Big D and Lady Di have set powerful examples for me of what it means to be disciples of Christ. They also always expect only the best from me, which I really appreciate. Grandpa would always ask me about school by asking if I had straight A's. I would usually smile a little sheepishly (because I hardly ever had all A's. Although I still had pretty good grades.) but I never felt like he was or would be disappointed that I didn't do well in school he just saw all the potential I had.

Some of my first memories of my grandparent and the house on Skyline are from when my younger sisters were born. For each of my four younger sisters birth my dad would drop us off with my grandparent while he took Mom to the hospital. I remember all the adventures I had as well as waking up to pancakes in the morning. Grandma always made a full breakfast with pancakes shaped like chickens and rabbits. I also remember sneaking out to the candy jar in the living room before breakfast and my grandma coming out in her garments to scold me about ruining my appetite. But even when reprimanding me they made me feel completely loved.

If I ever decide on a career, move out of my parents house, and get a job with a decent salary-- I'm buying this.

While perusing the Internet for every kind of dutch bike imaginable I came across a blog written by a girl that perfectly represents my feelings towards biking. I know my dad loved to imagine himself a speed racer when he rides to work in his spandex, but many of the things that attract him to cycling are the exact things that I dislike about it, e.g. being covered in sweat and wearing spandex. This blogger argues that bikes aren't becoming just another fashion accessory, but that girls are often attracted to bikes for different reasons, and I am attracted to this one: