Round 2

As of yesterday voting began for Round 2 of the singing contest. There are some aggressive voters out there for some of the other contestants-- I have only broken in to the top 10 once since yesterday, and that was for an extremely brief period of time. I'm trying to maintain some hope, since the voting doesn't end till Monday, but still... it's sort of discouraging. I'm gonna just brush it off, though-- no biggie. But if anyone out there would like to vote for me, multiple times might help. :) www.brevardsnextbigthing.com

Brevard's Next BIG Thing

I'm sure everyone already knows, but I thought I'd mention it just in case. In March I auditioned for our newspaper's version of American Idol, Brevard's Next Big Thing. I had a good time breaking out of my comfort zone to do it. My video is posted as of today, so if you go to www.brevardsnextbigthing.com, you can view the singers' videos and vote for your favorite. If you want to vote multiple times, just refresh the page after your vote has been counted.

Now, I HATE it when people rack up the votes just because of all the people they know (which is definitely happening a little bit), so please only vote for me if you really think I should be in the top 5 of my group.

The Temple

Kevin and I went to the temple on Friday morning. Thursday night I got the impression that we should do sealings, which was a bit odd. Normally we just do an endowment session-- discussion isn't necessary, it's just assumed. But as I wandered through the house that night preparing bags for the morning, I thought "sealings." It was very strong actually. Kevin was fine with it, and the Terrys agreed to it as well.

Just as an aside to those who are not familiar with the temple... The temple is a place where we perform sacred ordinances and make sacred covenants with the Lord-- not secret, mind, you, but sacred. These ordinances we believe to be essential for salvation. Therefore, not only are these ordinances performed for the living, but are done by proxy in the temple on behalf of deceased ancestors of current members of the Church. Therefore all these ordinances (which include baptism) are available to those beyond the veil to accept or reject. One of the ordinances performed in the temple is the sealing, binding a family not just till death, but for time and all eternity. Most sealings are in concurrence with marriage-- many of you may have seen a beautiful bride in white emerge from the temple doors with her new groom. Couples not married in the temple may be sealed together later on, as may entire families if the children were not "born in the covenant," as it is called when the parents were sealed previous to the children being conceived. As I said that ordinances in the temple are also performed on behalf of the dead, so it is with the sealing ordinance. We kneel at the alter as proxies, making sacred covenants with God for those who never had the opportunity while on earth. In doing so, we are reminded of the special promises we, too, made when we were sealed to our own spouse.

The sealer performed the ordinance over and over again for various persons, pausing occasonally between sealings to teach us. He even performed the ordinance in Spanish, Italian, and German, along with our native English. How cool is that?! But truly, the Spirit was strong in that intimate setting, the chandelier glowing, the neverending reflections in the dual mirrors reminding us of the eternal nature of this ordinance. The unity and love I felt for our small little group was memorable. I knew we were literally brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of God, single to the cause, single to the Glory.

And that is the essence of the temple. Unity. All are in white (an angelic vision), the work we do intending to unify us in a literal sense, binding us into one eternal family.

When we lived in Provo, I used to joke with Kev about how I wanted to stuff a pillow under my dress, pretending to be pregnant, so I could pull it out in the evening and spend the night in the celestial room of the temple. I honestly never wanted to leave-- felt no rush to do so. Of course, this was before we had children and babies that need nursing. But still, the temple is the one place on earth where we can leave the world completely behind. It is the closest to heaven we can come on earth. All are equal there-- there is no guile.

Plus, on top of that, it's so clean!

So I spent yesterday cleaning my house.

Freshman Follies

A buddy from my freshman year at BYU has a blog, I just found out. He's pretty funny. I'm pretty sure I died laughing several times while reading his latest posts. But I'm like a cat with the nine-lives-thing, so it's all good. In one post he described a made-up scenario of a discussion between him and Peter at the "pearly gates," Peter informing him and his family (who had apparently died by being mauled by a pack of wild dogs) that Milli Vanilli was up on tour, having been sent to Perdition for the whole bearing false witness thing. (If any of this makes you laugh, remember he wrote this, not me) I responded to the post. "Dude, Milli Vanilli?! Wait... they're dead?" I wasn't trying to "catch" him in anything-- I was just being a smart aleck. But he did respond to my comment commending me on foiling his story, and then informed me that one of his old posts mentions me, but that he wouldn't tell which one to make me have to read them all to find it. Nice.

So I started reading. Well, scanning is more like it. I started with the posts from 2007-- all 66 of them. I scanned through to the bottom. Took me about twenty minutes. After scanning the last post, I started to scroll back up when I immediately passed by a post I hadn't scanned the first time. And there it was... in all it's glory. My reference.

"During the same show, I accompanied a cute girl from my ward on guitar as she beautifully sang an obscure Roxette song. In a display of random spontaneity, I tried to harmonize with her during the chorus despite the fact that I don't know how. Some might say I ruined the song. Revisionist historians, however, are already declaring that I 'provided a brilliant, post-modern backdrop of dissonance to an otherwise tired, clichéd melody.'"

I laughed... and HAD to tell Kev about this. Reliving the moment. What this friend doesn't realize is at the time I had a MASSIVE crush on him, having asked him to do a talent show number with me just to get to hang out with him more. I even had another friend tape record the show so I could have a copy of the moment to watch over and over and over again... like those psycho obsessed stalker girls. Yeah, I guess I was sort of like that. I ended up chewing out said friend after he gave me a copy of the show-- the camera had died right before our song, so it wasn't on the tape.

I was bitter the rest of the school year.

What I came to realize as I related all this to Kev, was that I didn't just love my freshman year at BYU, but thinking of those memories puts me in my own happy place. The immaturity, the innocence and stupidity-- unmatched, and in a category all it's own.

I reminisced about the few times I walked with Jean past the windows of the Cougar Cove on a Sunday evening, where diners sat along the windows . As we walked by the windows, I'd walk really close to the poles just outside them, discreetly kicking one with my clunky wooden heel, then covering my forehead and wincing in "pain." Jean would play along. Gullible freshmen on the other side of the windows would press their faces to the glass in concern.

Or I thought about standing on the grassy knoll outside U-Hall with Rick, acting out the scene in The Princess Bride where Buttercup pushes Wesley down the hill. I'd shove Rick, and he'd leap and roll down the hill shouting, "As... you... wiiish!" I'd say, "Oh, my sweet Wesley, what have I done!" plunging myself down the hill after him. We did over and over, providing entertainment to everyone coming home from a long day of classes.

I smiled at the thought of my friends nicknaming me "Do do d'do d'do" because of the message I recorded for our dorm room voice mail-- "Do do d'do d'do (sung, like a horn announcing a royal entrance), KRISSY KIDWELL!... and Angela." I wasn't trying to be a jerk, and Angela actually thought it was pretty funny, so I didn't feel all that bad. But it made for a great nickname.

Making dumb movies, playing ping pong, serenading the guys' dorms with Sarah and actually collecting a dollar or so in tips, shooting pine nuts through giant Pixie Stick straws at annoying guys during visiting hours... again, with Sarah...

Maybe it's weird, but thinking about all these memories makes me feel... warm. I honestly can't help but be happy. And not that I'd want to go back to that time-- I've moved on, and the memories I'm making now are unmatched as well, but just in a completely different category.

But I cherish that time I had to act stupid when no one would think any less of me. Okay, so maybe most people thought I was an idiot, but at least they kept their lame opinions to themselves.

Ow!

In the past week, Drew has gotten into a terrible habit of biting me while nursing. Thankfully he doesn't have teeth yet, but OUCH! And I know if we can't stop this now, he'll be drawing blood when teeth DO come in... just like his big sister Sami did. Little turkey. Every time he bit me, I would yell, "Ow!" looking him in the eyes and saying, "No biting!" Of course, he's not even three months old yet, so I doubt he's catching on to anything.

But Sami caught on.

Last night I was walking through the living room when I heard Sami's little voice yell "Ow!" from the couch. I looked over to see her sitting with her shirt up and her baby doll pressed to her chest.

I smiled and chuckled. "Sami, did your baby bite you?"

She smiled back. "Yeah."