Adventure with Me

Well hello there.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted here. I used to think that I was going to be a writer, but sometimes writing honestly bores me. Not the idea of writing, but the writing itself. I’ll get through a paragraph of a new post, all enchanted with a lovely new idea, and then BAM. Boredom. Complete and utter boredom takes over, and then exasperation. I cannot possibly write an entire post, my mind says. I have far too much to do today. You get the idea.
Anyway, since I’ve been away and traveling for months on end I suppose I should update you more on my life. I missed out on a wonderful opportunity to write fascinating blog posts while on my six month long camping trip around the U.S.

The thing is, although everyone else was fascinated with the idea of traveling the U.S. with their family, I for one was completely against it. It’s a fanciful idea, but played out in reality problems inevitably arose. We’re not rich. Let’s clear that notion up right here. We didn’t decide to go traveling because of an abundance of money. There were times when we were stopped at a park and sat in our trailer or played mini golf or went to the pool and ate simple meals because we didn’t have money for gas or fancy food. It wasn’t a vacation, it was life. What was your favorite thing you did? people would ask. I went to the beach. I read book after book because I had the time. Did you go to Disney World while you were in Florida? No, but we went to Down Town Disney and it was-hey! Where are you going? Is that not exciting enough for you?

So I wasn’t as enchanted with the idea, but looking back I realized, who says you have to do the big things otherwise you won’t enjoy yourself? My little brothers and sisters spent hours chasing after lizards that roam around Florida like mosquitoes in Alaska, but much more entertaining. Thunderstorms fascinate me, and if I weren’t so afraid of getting struck by lightning I would have spent much more time out in the rain instead of watching, captivated, behind closed windows. It was the little things that made that trip worthwhile to me. The time driving over the Appalachian Mountains as a serendipitous moment left me breathless when a patch of trees opened up so we could just catch a glimpse of the sunlight glancing down the mountains, across the valley, onto the peak of the next mountain over.

We passed through the intersection of Route 66, ate McDonald’s in a small town called Paris, passed a ramp off the highway that read “Warp Drive”, and went into tiny little boutique shops. We stopped and smelled the flowers, basked in the sunshine, and relaxed.
That’s not to say there weren’t fights. When I said I was against this trip, that’s an understatement. I hated it. Loathed being there. It’s only looking back that I remember some of the things I enjoyed with fond thoughts instead of remembering the pain and anguish. Maybe that’s what my grandparents meant when they said I’d look back on this trip in 20 years and say it was one of the best times of my life. My memories balk at that thought, but maybe I’ll let the good overtake all the bad instead of holding on to pride and grudges.

Now I’m in Ketchikan, Alaska. The lower region of Alaska, by Canada and open ocean. Boy, is it gorgeous here. I am working at a fishing resort as a “kitchen hand”. Glamorous, I know. My responsibilities include baking a ton of cookies (often 400 a day), washing dishes (don’t get me started), stocking the salad bar, sandwich bar, breakfast area, and coffee area (the food doesn’t magically appear there), as well as cleaning tables, sweeping, mopping, washing walls, occasionally helping out the cooks, and waitressing.

It’s a big job.

But I’m slowly starting to love it. Sure, we have long days and I end up exhausted half the time, but the view is worth it and so are the people. I have met some incredible guests. Call me crazy, but chatting with the guests is one of my favorite parts of the job. I’ve had guests that lifted my energy level when I thought I was going to crash and burn.

“I could live for two months off of a good compliment.”- Mark Twain.

So far, I'm taking it one day at a time. Check out some funny and probably incomprehensible snippets of conversation from my stay so far...

Who's the ginger?
Me: What’s Riley’s last name?
JayCee: Riley…Ginger…bottom…

Walking home
JayCee: Don’t worry, I gots street smarts. “Do you wanna ride?” “NO!” “Do you want candy?” “YES!”

Hot chocolate
Me: Ooh that took it to the next level. I put half and half in it.
JayCee: I take mine black

Fries
Me to Renaye: I was eating a fry and Anthony was all, “All ya’ll got fries!” and knocked It out of my hand. Then he brought me a new fry.
Continued: YES I was all “*gapes* That was rude” and he was like “That was rude, ima get you a new fry” and he made some and gave me one. Offered chicken strips, too.

When Anthony found out I'm only 17
Anthony: You’re only 17? Shoot I can’t even talk to you.

Anthony: Don’t even come near me, no *holding out hand* Go away! *mutters* 17…

Anthony: *looking out the window* This is honestly a beautiful view
Me: You’re looking in the wrong direction *mimes frame around face*
Anthony: I can’t, you’re 17.

Anthony: No Sabrina. I can’t even sit next to you. That’s trouble. Trouble with a capital T.

First day without Kirsten
Me to Renaye: The moment you realize you don’t know how to use a plunger and the guys’ bathroom toilet is overflowing…

Men
Renaye: Anywho. Decided I’m the most romantic person ever because when he said something nice I called him creepy.

Intelligence rubbing off on younger siblings
Renaye: I love how Sadie doesn’t know how to read yet, but she says things like, “If I remembered correctly.” And “My personal favorite.”

Will never stop using this line
Renaye: Why is it so hot today
Me: Cuz you forgot to turn yourself off
Renaye: …yes. Thank you for reminding me.

Obscure hymns
JayCee: *black woman voice* Hey, old lady. I know…you have the desire…to sing all the songs that have been neglected in life…but I DON’T CARE.

Youth speaker
Kid giving a talk: I plan on marrying a, like, really righteous woman in the temple.
Kid: If you like candy, so that’s everybody…

Kit Kat gospel principles
KAT: Keep the commandments, Always remember Him, Take upon you His name.

All I asked was what to call the appetizer...
Ron: *describing food in fancy ways*
Ricky: Man I dunno what you’re saying but it sounds good.

Ron
Me to Renaye: Ron dumped water on my shoes, “Now you have to clean that up!”

We're out 
Me: We have a huge problem.
Ron: What?
Me: We’re out of hot chocolate.
Ron: Drink coffee like a grown up!

Ticklish
Me to Renaye: “Uhmyeeeeeeah. Anthony like...half molested me with his hands on my stomach and back…” I don’t think Mason liked that description of being tickled.

Crazy stuff happens in the kitchen at night…
Ricky: *chucking torn bits of bread from a ruined loaf at us* This is communion, some mother effing sacrament crap! We should pray! *takes hat off and bows head* Come on!
Ricky: Hit me with the bread! Hit my head! *gets hit in the head with the loaf* that wasn’t as funny as I thought it would be.

Ricky thinks he's hot
Me to Renaye: There’s a blind corner in the kitchen, and we don't want to run into each other, so we yell “corner” whenever we’re about to go around it, right? If you are carrying knives, you say “knife!” if you’re carrying something hot, you yell “corner hot!”. Well Ricky is always overly enthusiastic about it, and yells it a couple times (just in case we didn’t hear him the first five times), so we know to get out of the way. One time I heard him yelling urgently, “hot hot hot hot HOT” and turned to look at what blistering dish he was carrying around the corner this time, and was surprised to see him walk around the corner empty handed…it was just him.

Ron
Ron: *sprays me with sanitizing spray* you’ve just been sanitized.

Me to Renaye: That awkward moment when Ron stole my phone while in the middle of typing that text, saying, “I’ll give it back when your shifts over” and then looked at the text which currently only said “Ron: *sprays” and is all, “you saying stuff about me?” Then later comes back and catches me typing this up and says, “If you wanna be a scandalous little thing that’s fine” OMG…

Me to Renaye: I was putting the pickle spears into a new container and he came over and was glancing back and forth between the pickle spears and me…I don’t like this…

Over weight baggage 
Tanessa: She layered on clothes. She was like a little mushroom. I mean…marshmallow…

 

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~La vie est belle, Bri~

Adventures in Public Transportation

I went into Anchorage with Renaye on Monday for her orthodontist appointment among other things. You wouldn’t believe how fun that was. We were going to meet Beka Miller, my amazing wife, later that day, but see, Renaye couldn’t stay in Anchorage, so she just dropped me off at Helen’s after her appointment (and after we ate at Taco Bell and decided that the peach ish pink color on the walls is called bludgeoned salmon). So, Helen and I act all crazy and hyper, and we have an amazing time at Barnes and Noble with Beka and then Allister and it was just an overall fun day, right?

Right.

After getting back to Helen’s house at around 11:00ish, we upload some pictures, and then we go to sleeeeeeeeeep…at around 11:30. We wake up. We eat amazing food. We joke around. We’re silly and amazing. Just roll with it.

I can’t stay all day, because we have to drop Helen off at dance around 2pm. Exeunt Helen. Mrs. Lindamood kindly drives me over to my cousins house. Enter Kalayna. We act like idiots, of course. And we have fun, and joke around, and yada yada. Then, we go to see the snow sculptures. First, we stop at Uncle John’s office, where we split into two cars. Layna is driving the little car. Kalayna gets lost, and we all laugh at *cough* I mean, WITH her. We found our way to the sculptures at last, and we look at them. They were perty. And we voted. I liked the one with the polar bear playing the piano.

Anyway, to my point. I have to take a bus home.

I have three bags with me; my camera bag with super expensive camera, my green bag, and my backpack. So, my cousins drive me up to the curb and I grab my stuff out of the back. They tell me to call them if I miss the bus. Don’t even mention that possibility please, it makes me queasy.

Here’s the thing; I’ve been on one of these public transportation buses ONCE. And that one time I had Kimber to worry about the details. If I followed her, I was okay. But on my own? *gulp* I was more than a little apprehensive.

So, my cousins drive away, and I turn around to take in my surroundings. It smells like cigarette smoke and cold air, my nose is turning red from the cold air and my toes are freezing through my converse. I hear swearing and honking and every other city sound. People mill around as bus after bus makes its way to the curb. I quickly ask the first bus driver where her bus is going. She tells me she’s going around back, and pulls away.

Thanks lady, real helpful.

Then, I hurry to the next bus that pulls up and ask her which bus would take me to Wasilla. She said I’d need to take the Valley Mover (I know this already, but where IS the Valley Mover?), and tells me that they pick up around the corner and across the street. I look over that direction. I see a pink and white bus. Wait…THAT’S MY BUS.

I start running as fast as I can with three bags bouncing up and down on my arms. Right as I get to the curb, the bus pulls away and drives off.

So, here I am alone downtown at the bus station. I was totally not freaking out. At all. Okay, yeah, guess who started praying? I called my cousins and told them I’d missed my bus. Fortunately, they were just two blocks down looking at the ice sculptures. I walked over there. My feet were frozen, I was traumatized, and I was ready to be home.

Unfortunately, my mom thought it was too dangerous (?) for me to stay and wait for the next bus, so I ended up spending the night at my cousins.

So there you have it. I don’t like public transportation buses.

~La vie est belle, Bri~

I don't need to flirt; I will seduce you with my awkwardness.

Talking on the phone with Renaye :D

This is the story of a brother by the name of Othello. He liked white women and he liked green jello. 

~La vie est belle, Bri~

Mormons

Heh heh heh.

~La vie est belle, Bri~

New puppy

Okay, I know I said in the last post I'd try and get some pictures up, but I haven't had the chance yet. Maybe I'll get some from Christmas morning? We'll see. I did get ONE picture though, even if it's not the best. We got a new puppy for an early Christmas present, and to prove it to Renaye I had to take a picture, so here it is.

Just call him Oliver, even though we haven't officially decided yet.

~La vie est belle, Bri~

My Favorite Birthday Wishes

Here are my favorite "Happy birthday"s I got yesterday(and yes, I am actually gonna post al these fantastic compliments and stuff that I got because I feel like it).

I woke up to this text from my best friend, Helen:

My dearest Sabrina, it is now your birthday. You are now fifteen. OH MY GOSH FOR THE NEXT FOUR MONTHS WE'LL ONLY BE ONE YEAR APART!! but I digress. Anyhow. Happy birthday my dear. You are beautiful and sweet and freaking hysterical and now you're old. Congrats. Being 15 is not like the coolest thing in the world, but hey, people can't confuse you for a middle schooler anymore. Any yes. Now I'm just saying whatever comes to mind. Just know that you are beautiful and I love you and you should stop putting yourself down and post on your blog because I love reading it. I hope you have the best birthday EVER and I shall give you your present on Saturday. (: Happy birthday love <3
Oh. Any my mother says, "tell my goddaughter I say happy birthday, too."

This is a wall post from my wifey, Beka:

My darling wife. I love you more than green tea, more than hot cocoa, more than bacon and more than all things chocolate. I may call you today, so pick up yo phone! By the way, sorry about the dorky sounding message and the many missed calls. Sorry that you don't have your present, but I do have it and am still attempting to send it to you. Today I was going to send it but had to go study at the c...ollege for finals. I am going to send it to you, maybe after finals are completely over. I'm setting a deadline for myself as far as those go; by midnight tomorrow at least two of my finals have to be completely finished and then I'll do the last one of Friday before 3. Blah.
Anyways, I'm trying not to make this Happy Birthday message drag on to long, I've already failed, so...I may call you today and sing you Happy Birthday, but prettyful like. It won't sound like a Williamsburg Happy Birthday song. I. Promise.

I love you, wife o' mine, with every single one of my organs!! ♥

This one, from my besty that lives close to me, made me laugh because she seems more excited that I'm fifteen than I am:

I loves you! Miss ya bunches! Sorry I can't be there. :(

YOU'RE FIFTEEN! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

She later posted this picture that she took and edited on my wall:

 That's right. She's the bomb.

Helen posted on my wall on Facebook:

I was going to come up with an interesting way to say happy birthday, but I think last night's text drained my creativity (shocking, I know). But anywho. Happy birthday, love. Eat lots of cake and ice cream for me and I shall see you on Saturday. ♥ ♥ ♥

And that is all folks, catcha later :) (hopefully with pictures of moi as a new fiteen year old).

~La vie est belle, Bri~

I don’t want to diet; I want to get in shape.

So, if you’ve ever danced, you know that natural instinct that insists you do everything perfectly immediately. It’s unavoidable. Even if your teachers are pushing you hard (and believe me, teachers can be super harsh sometimes), the one who’s really pushing is you. Dancers have a tendency to be extremely unforgiving of our mistakes, even when we don’t have to be. It’s a mental glitch placed the moment you step into a studio for your first class.


I used to think it was hilarious how my friend Helen would look at pictures of her dancing and call out every little thing that was wrong with her technique. I would tell her how it looked great, stop fussing, and she would in turn glower at the picture some more. I would think to myself how she’s just over exaggerating.

But now I’m

Just.
Like.
Her.

I notice every single thing that’s wrong in any videos or pictures taken of me while I was dancing, and I just end up feeling down and depressed.

Why do we do this to ourselves? 

When I first started dancing again my mom confiscated the scale. She insisted that dancers have an unnatural fixation with their weight and are prone to getting eating disorders. My first reaction to this was annoyance. I argued that, hey, you’re over reacting. I don’t need to lose weight, I’m skinny enough. I am not going to get an eating disorder. I love food too much!

But, after a whole semester at the dance studio? Yes, those last two statements are the only two I still believe. Don’t go all psycho on me though, hear me out. If you could see all the girls at the dance studio, you’d understand why I started feeling out of place, or “fat”. I can’t help looking at pictures and watching videos and all the while lamenting the fact that my hips look funny and my shoulders always seem to be hunched over (IMA HUNCH BACK!). I’m not fat, by every day standards, so why do I put myself down?

Because I could be better. 

Along with tossing the scale, my mom also forbade any “dieting”. The problem with this is that my mom has a significantly loose definition of what a “diet” is. Even the most discreet suggestion of maybe eating more fruit and vegetables (“eating healthier”) is always met with a suspicious look and opens up a lecture on how I am perfect the way I am.

But seriously, what’s wrong with trying to improve myself? Everyone can be better, so why not me?

There are so many diets out there in the world right now, some healthier than others, so naturally when someone tells you they need to get skinnier and lose some weight, the first thing that pops into your mind is a diet, right?

That’s why I like the phrase “get in shape” better. It’s more centered around exercising and eating healthier things than limiting what you eat and not eating too much in one day. Obviously, I’d have to make sacrifices (such as; not as much sugar, McDonald’s, etc.). If there is one thing right now that I want to learn more about, its nutrition. This is going to sound really stupid, but I have no idea what calories are and how they affect our bodies. When I was younger, sitting at the dinner table, my sister and mom were talking about how many calories our rolls had. When I inquired what they meant, I was told that I was too young to worry about it.

Now, even If I were to ask, it’d be the simple version intended to make it sound like not a big deal so I wouldn’t worry my pretty little head about how much I weigh. Can you imagine how many times I roll my eyes a day?

I don’t want to diet; I want to get in shape.

As a last thought, I’d like to go back to what I said about dancers being over dramatic and self-conscious. Almost every dancer you could ask, they would say that they have made this or that mistake. In the words of Bekah Cornell, “If we did everything perfectly, no one would come to our recitals because they’d have seen it all before. Our mistakes make us unique and original.”

~La vie est belle, Bri~

Five and Ten Year Plans

In Five Years I will have…

• Graduated from high school in the spring of 2014
• Been accepted to a college (an arts college or BYU) and attended my Freshman and Sophomore years (2014-15, 2015-16) studying dance, business management, and creative writing.
• Attended church diligently 

I could have…

• Taught at a local studio of dance for extra money
• Visited my family for holidays
• Gotten tan 

In Ten Years I will have…

• Graduated college with a (doctorate? Bachelors?) in dance.
• Gotten married in the temple.
• Opened a dance studio (with Renaye?) in (a state that’s not too warm but not too cold). 

I could have…

• Held a calling in the church.
• Visited with old friends.
• Watched Helen perform an amazing ballet piece with a ballet company.

Unusual Treats

Like many people, I enjoy several "unusual treats", something you would usually think would be gross. Some of the more usual unusual treats are brownie batter and cookie dough, chocolate covered strawberries (hey now, I know this isn't QUITE unusual, but I love them), but there are some more weird ones I and other friends enjoy.

This is peanut bitter graham crackers. It is HEAVENLY. All you need is a jar of peanut butter and some graham crackers, and you've got a quick snack.

More graham crackers and a thing of frosting. Oh yes.


Peanut butter banana sandwiches. Do I need to even EXPLAIN this?

Another thing one of my friends enjoy is mixing ice cream flavors, such as pistachio and mango. I have to try that one.

Last but not least, chocolaty ballerina boys.

If you are not Helen or Aurora, you will probably never get this and may think it is very inappropriate. don't really care.

I love food.

Here is a conversation about it with my friend Renaye:

Me: I like butta

Renaye: I like syrup...

Me: me too...

Renaye: I like food...

Me: Oh my gosh, me too!

Renaye: Food is so good! Who wouldn't love food?

Me: *raises hand* OH OH OH O H PICK ME OVER HERE, ME!

Renaye: Okay?

Me: Anorexic people *giggles* Oooh and bulimic people!

Renaye: Bulimic people like food, they just choose to throw it up

Me: Oh you're right....

Yes, we're weird, but we just love food, okay?

Are there any unusual treats you enjoy that you'd like me to try? Feel free to comment!

~La vie est belle, Bri~