Taggedy Ann

I got tagged in a few blogs. I guess it's the new thing going around, so of course I am hopping on this bandwagon just like the Jimmer Fredette wagon, because it's a winner! oh wait... haha.
So like, how do I like DO THIS you ask? Well I'll introduce you to my first tagger, tell you some things I like (maybe even love) about myself, and pass it on... It all started when:

A Miss Janeen Dittman tagged Kelsey Scott via blog about a week ago. This is their story...

Just kidding? Anyways I like Janeen. I never really knew anything about her I just knew of her through my dear friend CF, and he always had good things to say so I thought to myself: "Welp, Imma read her blog and like her too!" So I did just that, and then my creeping days began. From reading I've noticed we have a lot of similarities. A: I also won (earned?) that english thing in high school. I mean I tied with my friend Amelia, but I still got the money for it. So I automatically respected her more. II: I'm not an emotional person on this blog, so I live vicariously through hers because she has no fear (which is gooooooood!). And C: I have a best friend who went on a mission too. So I feel for you. It's like we're in a club together; I'll make up the secret handshake.

Things I'm digging about myself:

1. I am just a "going with the flow" kind of girl lately. I don't know how it happened, but I've kind of turned into this earth child who's getting swept up into the wind, and I'm totally okay with it. Unless this turns into a Go Ask Alice kind of story... Maybe I should rethink things... Anyways, I am happy with my life and the ability I have to ignore stress as of late.

2. I am loving my hair. It's growing you know... I'm almost (in only 5 years or so now) over the grade 10 disaster. Even if I robbed a bank, or dated a guy with a neck beard, I would still have that cut as my number one regret. As you can tell I feel really passionately about that event. Anyways, I like my hair. It's getting really long and starting to go all naturally curly again.

3. I pick winners. The other day I had my 8 year old niece Tay turn to me and say: "You date really nice guys." Maybe she was just complimenting me because I had passed the impossible bubble level of cut the rope... but I took what I could and was flattered. It got me thinking though; I do date grade AAA boys. Wanna know what's even better? I'm still friends with every single one. That just shows what nice guys they are that they still wanna be my bud, even after I force them to let me do their makeup and grow moustaches... I mean what? So I would say I have good taste. Thanks for being a nice boyfriend all you exes! If I'm lonely, you'll be the first person I call (that was a joke mom...).

So I guess now I tag other people? I don't really get this. If you notice your name below, you're tagged. If you don't wanna do this, then don't.

Oh, and P.S. lately I've been obsessed with getting bigger lips. My solution? Photobooth.
So what do you think?


Buncha Randoms

I just have a lot of great things I would like to share with everyone:

1. This shirt. It changes from purple to pink if it warms up! Unreal you guys, unreal.

awkward, but check out that double chin baby!
Janna... always so inappropriate.

2. Pancake muffins. Yesterday I was writing the worst paper of my life (have you ever tried to write a paper about an article's structure? terrible) and Kennedy, being the saint that she is, brought me these muffins she's been making lately. They're basically chocolate chip pancakes in a muffin form and you drizzle syrup on them. I love them. I can't get enough. 

3. I made play dough for the first time in my life with Janna for FHE tonight. I love play dough... but not the fact that we don't have any ziploc bags in our house. I ended up having to use an old bag of salsa flavoured tortillas. The play dough smells very strongly of basil and tomatoes. Sorry my FHE babies!

4. Friday Kennedy and I weren't doing anything so we decided to embark on the journey of dyeing Ken's hair blonde. 

I borrowed all of these pictures from Kennedy. I'll return them soon.
After mine and Kennedy's attempt. Direct quote from Scott: "It looks like a sunset."
Can I just defend myself by saying I've never dyed hair before? Give me a break. 
After we handed Kennedy's hair over to professionals. It was touch and go there for a while... But in the end it all worked out.

4. Today is Shawn Elford's Epic Facebook Day. Basically we picked an innocent chap and bombarded his facebook. Poor guy never saw it coming... As of noon it was 500 notifications and counting. If you know him, go write on his wall! If you don't, add him as a friend and write on his wall. 

5. Solitaire has taken over my life. Someone please develop me an addictions recovery program.

6. I got tagged in a blog! I am honoured. That will be my next post... since this one is getting waaaay too long.


Rats In The Cellar

Have you ever heard of C.S. Lewis' Rats in the Cellar? I read it in a spiritual thought a while ago and this week has been reminding me of it. To explain briefly, C.S. Lewis makes the analogy of people and their weaknesses to rats in the cellar and how when we turn on the cellar light suddenly we see the rats scatter at the bottom as opposed to have the light always on and simply walking down seeing nothing. He explains that who we are is how we react when caught by surprise. Our poor qualities are exposed just like how the rats are when the light is turned on unexpectedly. "Surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of a man he is." 

The first few days of this week I have had a moment every day that shows the ill-tempered person that I am. Sunday morning I got a car stuck before church, which resulted in me being late for sacrament and muttering angrily the whole way after I had tried specifically to be on time. Yesterday the same thing happened again as I was heading to a class. Today I misread a deadline for an application for school and thought I had missed it, resulting in me having a complete mental breakdown.

Every time one of those things happened I didn't even think twice about how I was handling things and think, "Ok this isn't going to ruin my life I can figure this out". Instead I looked upward and asked: "Why me? Does this have to happen right now? Why are you so unfair?" I would then continue to cry about how hard my life was and throw a little tantrum.

Today though, I realized something; my life isn't hard. My home isn't being swept away by a tsunami, my family is safe, I live in a free country where I get to go to school. If anything I should be looking up with gratitude that these are the kind of things I'm having to deal with lately. I'm ashamed at what a brat I am some days... ok most days... everyday? And even though I was alone all those times, it doesn't matter that no one saw it, it matters that it happened. I will be the first to admit my rats, or weaknesses, are not well hidden and I don't have very much control over them.

 "But the suddenness does not create the rats:  it only prevents them from hiding. In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man:  it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am.  The rats are  always there  in the cellar, but if you go in shouting and noisily they will have taken cover before you switch on the light."

Oh, and P.S. This blows my mind. Japan Tsunami footage.


The Wrestling Match

One day Janna and Scott decided to have an arm wrestling match. I learned three things:

1. Scott has really small hands.

2. Janna is not as strong as she used to be. I remember wrestling her once upon a time and it took two of us girls and she would still easily win.

3. I have a really annoying voice and say really dumb things. "You have strength in you" has become a personal joke to all of us. Please ignore me in this video and laugh at how cute Janna is or Scott's face of pure agony because I'm really embarrassed at how into I got. Who knew I felt so passionately about arm wrestling? I learn something about myself everyday.

Untitled from Kelsey Scott on Vimeo.

Oh, and P.S. if any of you are needing some motivation at the gym I'd be happy to offer my services. I can scream "You got this!" for only twenty dollars a session! :)


On My Wedding Day...

A series of events lead to a most precious discovery yesterday. First off, I saw these on a blog. So naturally I cried through every video and the entire morning. Who knew I was so emotional when it came to lovey videos? Oh wait, I did. After I decided enough tears had probably been shed I went into wedding mode. Every girl knows what I'm talking about. Even if you don't have a potential "better half" there are just some days when you can't stop thinking about it. The next thing I knew I was looking at photographers, listening to this song and this song, browsing hair styles, and then eventually... dresses. I looked through modest dresses and decided none of them tickled my fancy and started looking at regular wedding dress sites for inspiration. I went down the list of the styles. Lace dresses, Chiffon dresses, column dresses, A-line dresses, Muslim dresses... uhhh, what? Muslim dresses? I had to take a look out of pure curiosity. I was in heaven, I hope someday I can pose just like that in my muslim styled dress. So needless to say I bookmarked them (haha) and I'd just like to say sorry to my future husband, love me still?

Oh, and P.S. I had a twelve, count it twelve, crave mini-cupcakes yesterday. One of my biggest accomplishments right there. If you don't hear from me for a few days it's because I've gone into a sugar coma.


The Room

Nobody thinks my Fergie story was funny? Well don't think I'll tell you anything again! Just joking. I think I need to make up for that post with a story that I know everyone will love and is a little bit more serious. This is going to be a long post but please just bear with me?

Have you ever wondered what you would see if you could look over your whole life again? Would you take back all the harsh words? The lies? I have always had a hard time realizing the direct consequence of my actions and the effect they play on all people, especially the saviour Jesus Christ. So when I read this my mind was opened just a little bit and I was able to understand the atonement on a more personal level. 

The Room

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that listed the authors or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different readings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was the one that read, 'People I have liked". I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of every moment, big and small, in detail my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories, others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file names "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed".

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I have read," "Lies I have told," "Comfort I have given," "Jokes I have laughed at". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I have yelled at my brothers". Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I have done in my anger," "Things I have muttered under my breath to my parents". I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I had hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of life I had lived. Could it be possible that I have time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my handwriting. Each was signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I have listened to," I realized the files grew to contain their content. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, ashamed, not so much by the quality of the music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to the file marked "Lustful thoughts," I felt a chill run through my entire body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn those cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card only to find it strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated ad utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning on my forehead against the wall. I let out a long self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I have shared the gospel with". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer and almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box no more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of files shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. NO, PLEASE, NOT HIM! NOT HERE! OH, ANYONE BUT JESUS! I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did he have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put his arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

"NO!!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was, "NO, NO," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with his own blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished".

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

What cards are in YOUR file?


Black Eyed Nicklepeas

As I've mentioned before I went to a play for my drama class on Valentine's Day. It was really long and boring and I made the mistake of bringing friends with me. So instead of paying attention Janna, Ryan, Scott and I tried to decide who out of our friends looked like each character. If you're ever in a boring production and you don't have to write a paper on it, play that game. It saved my brain from dying, but unfortunately by the time we were walking out I couldn't have even told you the main character's name if it hadn't have been in the title of the play (the play was Nicholas Nickleby if you're wondering).

Anyways, yesterday I had an analysis for that play due and I had to attach my ticket to prove I had gone, or else I would've just BS'd my way right on through it. I woke up really early because I had slacked off allllll of reading week and wrote like a mad woman to make it to my 11 o' clock class. I honestly couldn't even tell you the points I made but I ended up printing it off and getting ready to leave just in time when I remembered that stupid ticket. I ran downstairs to my dresser where I keep all my tickets from concerts and such, pinned that little sucker on and dashed off to class.

I made it there at 11:01, handed it to my teacher as he was looking over everyones papers to make sure they were valid, and smiled my sweetest smile in hopes that he would remember I looked really nice and maybe mark me easier. As I walked back to my seat he called after me and said, "Kelsey, did you write a play analysis on Fergie's humps?" 

What the heck?

I turned to a confused face that was probably mirroring mine and walked to the front. I grabbed my paper and realized in my sleepy haze in the morning I had grabbed my Black Eyed Peas concert ticket from the summer and put it on my paper instead of the play ticket.

I'm such an idiot sometimes. 

Oh, and P.S. Jo showed me this song and I like it.

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