Wave of the future.

So I've been updating my resume in an effort to get a real job and I think that resumes should be used a whole lot more than they currently are.

Think about it, it's a wonderfully brief synopsis of your life -- albeit your scholastic and professional life -- but it could be the perfect answer to some of the most annoying questions in superficial social situations.

"So...what's new?" "What's new? Here's a current copy of my resume. That's what's new."

Or, "Tell me about yourself." "Eh, I'd rather not. Here, read this." Immediately, perfect strangers are aware of your most notable computer skills as well as your GPA. Best foot forward I always say.

Always.

The typical resume could also be expanded to church and dating spheres. Instead of having to fill out information about your previous callings, just hand the bishop your ecclesiastical resume.

"Assistant to the Executive Secretary: Responsibilities include 'being a female presence', carving ice sculptures for bishopric meetings, and running the ward behind the scenes.

False Doctrine Teacher: I think this one is self-explanatory, really. Weird that they would give me this calling but I did what I could with it.

Sacrament Speaker Coordinator: ...it turns out I've only ever held made up callings."

Interested in some tantalizing specimen? Uh huh, marriage resume -- well stocked with several of your most photogenic moments of course.

Something like this would probably suffice.

"Astrological sign: Aries.
Pioneer heritage: Extensive.
References: Available upon request."

Suddenly all the world is an internet dating site.

I choose LIFE!

I just spent the last hour distracted by myself -- reading old posts on my blog. I have been blogging for 3 years now (a hearty thank you for those few of you who have continued reading) and it's been interesting to notice changing perspectives, repeated themes...and jokes, and to remember what life was like before I promptly forgot all the minor details.

Several years go, when I still loved reading but hated writing, I was a very sad girl...naturally. I woke up a lot of mornings choosing to have a bad day and would firmly resist all efforts to cheer me up. I saw these efforts as false and superficial. Happiness meant vulnerability. Hope meant inevitable disappointment.

I have since realized what a terrible way this is to live -- in constant discouragement because of potential despair. Such a half life. Such a dreary life.

Lately, I've been thinking about a passage from Les Miserables. I think about it often enough that I have sought to commit it to memory. Victor Hugo begins his 1200 page novel with a chapter entitled "A Just Man" - a description of a bishop. Monsieur Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel. About Monsieur Myriel, Hugo says many things but this, I think, is one of the most profound:

"He did not seek to efface pain in forgetfulness, he sought to elevate it and to dignify it with hope...to transform the grief that gazes on the freshly dug grave by showing it the grief that gazes up at a star."

Hope is not an empty promise. It is not naive. It is light and solace and deliverance.

I don't quite know how to do what Hugo is talking about - not for you, not really for me - but I've tried it both ways and so far, choosing happiness is better.

Season confusion.

It felt like winter today. You know those mornings when you wake up and the light is brighter because it's reflecting off of snow and the air is crisp and cold? You immediately want to rally the troops and go sledding or maybe just open all your blinds, curl up with a good book and some hot chocolate and look out at the beautifully laden trees. I don't love winter by any means...but some of its days I can appreciate - like right after a storm, when everything is glitteringly pristine and you feel somehow that the only appropriate thing to do is just stand there and admire, that the slightest sound would be sacrilege, and the smallest movement would be profane; or on days lit up by twinkling Christmas lights swaying to the tunes of Bing Crosby, Burl Ives, and Mariah Carey when all you can think about is hanging out all day in your pjs with your family.

Winter is not without its positive sides, but for now I'm glad it's not here. I have too many other things to enjoy first - like going into the canyon and shooting potato guns.

I was a little scared to do it because this was the result of one of our first efforts. Watch his right hand. Sorry about the scream...

I was going to say something about how I'm going to Huntington Beach this weekend just in case winter is, in fact, imminent...but it turns out it's actually going to be warmer here than it is there. Nothing like playing beach volleyball in mucklucks and a hoody, right?

EngiNERD

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Studying engineering is not glamorous. At least not for girls. Yeah, ok, and for most guys as well. Do you know how little people want to hear about my studies? I never get the question, "What are you learning about?" There is no interesting answer to that question. The best it will get this semester is reading a book for my ethics class called, "Truth, Lies, and O-Rings: Inside the Space Shuttle Challenger Disaster." On closer inspection, though, you'll realize it's merely 600 pages of this:

"Our conclusion that the primary O-ring in the nozzle of STS-51B had never sealed in the first place seemed to be well supported by the nature of the O-ring erosion we had observed and by the analytical model developed for predicting O-ring erosion. The erosion pattern on the O-ring was distinctly different from anything we had observed before, and there was evidence of hot gas flow around the entire cross section..."

Oh, we're done. Come back. Looks like your eyes glazed over there a little.

Except, here's the thing, I am actually interested in this stuff. Oh, I'm not passionate about it. I don't plan on taking apart an industrial printer and using the parts to rig a card scanner to my front door like one of my classmates wants to. I don't write computer code in my free time. I'm about as bored with the book as I presume you were. But I find myself mildly fascinated. Plus, I laugh at things like this: So in lieu of actually changing my career path (AGAIN) I've decided I need to come up with an alluring cover story. As if I were a CIA operative. Maybe I should be a tropical island caretaker who's completing the climbing program at the U. Maybe I should be a rehabilitated Nazi who loves volunteering at the local library for children's book hour. Perhaps - and I would actually love to do this - I could be a stunt double...that also teaches community breakdancing classes in the evenings. Or maybe I AM a CIA operative and "engineering student" IS my cover story.

Think about it.

Ich bin zurück.

Now that I have returned from Europe I am finding it difficult to know what to say. I wasn't sure the blogging world would want another overindulgence in photographs. So instead I will overindulge you in adjectives. Italy was...how does one describe a place like that? It has history, it has art, it has Swiss guards dressed up like clowns (awesome clowns with swords) and old men riding the bus in nothing but dirty button up shirts. I'm serious, nothing but. Italy was amazing, exhausting, beautiful, delicious, stunning, sweaty, adventurous, hilarious, stressful, thrilling, fascinating, going, going, going. It was Venice, Florence, Siena, San Gimignano, Cinque Terre, Rome, Naples, Pompeii, and Sorrento. It was long but it wasn't long enough. It is everything you dream about and more. And now I am back.

Oh Italy.

Within 48 hours of returning to my now musty home I started school, my job, and received a new calling in the ward - Assistant TO THE Executive Secretary. I am the Dwight Schrute of the bishopric. So that's my excuse for my extended absence. If excuses were needed. "I did not become a Lackawana County volunteer sheriff's deputy to make friends. And by the way, I haven't."