Someone asked me last week what I liked to read. 

I couldn't come up with an answer. 
Everything that I read the last 6 months or so of my life was like a big blur.
No books were coming to mind. 
and yet I knew that i had spent hours and hours and hours of my recent past reading.
I didn't actually come across like someone who was well read. 

at all. 

But I am well read. 

 I promise. 

And someday I promise I'll make a booklist.

This week is Read Across America week at school.  I am not sure exactly what that means, except that it is Dr. Seuss' birthday and we celebrate by reading all day on March 2nd.  I can't think of a better day for a teacher.  (okay, I can think of a better day it is called day one of summer vacation)

But really, a day dedicated to reading sounds pretty amazing to me.  Heaven.

I credit my mom for instilling in me the love of reading and my dad for financing it. 
It all began as a child when I fell in love with Little House on the Prairie and a short little picture book called Miss Rumphius that I won when I was 6 years old for reading the most pages in my age category at the American Fork Library. 

My brother and I used to ride our bikes to the library (with a bracelet on my right hand wrist so i could remember to stay on the right side of the road while riding my bike).  Some of you may think: "what, your mom sent a 6 and 7 year old to the library by themselves!  neglect!" Quite the contrary.  My mom taught me to love reading and to be independent adn to make good decisions and to spend my time doing something meaningful.  She also bought me night light after night light so that I could read when I went to bed.  She made me a bonnet to wear so I could be just like Laura Ingalls Wilder.  She told me I looked cute with geeky glasses as an 8 yr old. She read with me and to me and listened as I shared with excitement all the things I was reading.  As I got older she would read books before me and would take a black marker to cross out any "bad language" that she didn't want me to see.  She would buy book after book after book. . . . . and I would read all of them. Now I buy the books and she borrows them. 

My dad would read to us too.  All of the kids piled on the couch with my dad before bedtime listening to the Chronicles of Narnia or The Boxcar Children or The Whipping Boy. 


Reading was just part of the routine.  Pajamas, reading, brushing teeth, prayers and bedtime. 

And it is still is.  I sometimes wish I could quit my job and just read all day (is there a way to get paid for that).  Then I remember that my job is about reading.  Modeling reading, loving reading and teaching reading.

Reading, no matter what it is I'm reading, makes me happy. 

And watching others learn and love to read is even more meaningful. 

Maybe someday I'll teach my own children to read.

until then,

Thanks mom and dad. 

I owe you big time. 

Dr. Seuss really knew what he was talking about. 

thinks he forgot a few things

Eric got it almost right on the last post that he so generously supplied for the pleasure of all of my readers.

He is so great to me

and

He says all the right things (for the record he says he likes my haircut - he's smart like that)

and

I do love that he will pretend to watch sappy chick flicks with me

 and

that he will "touch me" (figuratively speaking --- like touch my heart with his kind words) in all the right ways.

and

that he will let me scratch his back.

all. the. time. 

and

maybe someday I can serve him and only him. . . . go to the grocery store while he is at work, cook dinner while he goes home teaching, read stories to the girls while he takes a nap, put away laundry and clean the house while he works on the budget, wear high heels while I vacuum and mop floors, make breakfast while he reads the morning paper, and pack his lunch for him to take to work. 

If only I knew what all his "whims" were I could cater to them.  without a doubt.

But

in his rush to post about why I love him,

he forgot some of the crucial, defining points about why I love him SO much. 

He makes me laugh. 

and

pretends that I am just as witty as he is, when we both know it isn't true. 

He can't keep a secret to save his life, 

and 

hates it is okay with it when I try to "teach him patience" and surprise him. 

He can't spell and I can't try hard to read his writing

yet

I think it is charming

He listens while I ramble and ramble on and on at night when he calls

and

 remembers pretends to remember every conversation we've ever had. 

He let's me be me

and

loves me for who I am. 

He is stronger than me

in a lot of ways. 

physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. 

and

I wouldn't have it any other way. 

and I would tell you more, but I'd like to keep a few things about him all to myself.  

and

now that I really have proffesed my love
I think I'll change my password. 

"Distance is not for the fearful, it is for the bold. It's for those who are willing to spend a lot of time alone in exchange for a little time with the one they love. It's for those knowing a good thing when they see it, even if they don't see it nearly enough."

who really loves her boyfriend.....

I just want to profess my love for my boyfriend and tell you all how awesome I think he is.  He is the best thing since sliced bread.... He makes me feel so special and is so great to me!!!  He always knows what to say and when to say it and will even watch sappy chick flicks with me.  He is truly a man's man. 

He knows how to kiss me just right and touch me in just the right spots (don't worry the bishop said we are still worthy to go to the temple).  I hope some day to be able to service him with all my heart and give him long backrubs and cater to his ever whim.

I love my man!!!!

is accepting cat calls and compliments

Today when I arrived at school my principal (who will be referred to as Ryan instead of Mr. ________ so as to protect his reputation) saw me walk into the faculty room and after recognizing that I had a new haircut informed myself and the other two women in the room that he almost started making cat call sounds over the "new do"

That was before he remembered he was married and in the company of three women.

Maybe you had to be there. 

There was nothing inapropriate about his comments. 

Mostly they were entertaining. 

The conversation just went all over the place from there. 

You know it is a Thursday morning where everyone just wishes it is a Friday when you start out the day talking about cat calls, haircuts, bad student teachers and  contractions (which is another word that can be misinterpreted. . . I was talking about having a hard time with contractions like teaching my students the meaning of it is = it's and Ryan wanted to know why I was having contractions). 

It was a long day with short hair.  

I'm glad it is over.

I also love my hair, but can't seem to get a great self-portrait on my cell phone (go figure).

I took this in the car before yw. . . .

blurry, but you get the idea

It is shorter than I've ever had it, but I think it is cute.

I'll post better pictures when I can find some anasumming soul to take them for me.

I won't ask my principal. 

That would just be awkward.

Anyway, at some point when I figure out a way to post a picture that actually shows how amazingly great I look with this haircut I will be accepting more cat calls, compliments and anything you might have to say (that is positive of course).  If you don't have something nice to say (Jim, Shawn, Derek and Daniel) then please keep your comments to yourself or mumble them under your breath or tell Heather or Kristin or mom -- they will tell me how you really feel (as if there was every any question about how much you dislike my hair).


 

Listens. . . . . really well

I have really been working on my listening skills. Afterall, listening skills are imperative to a successful relationship right?!  

I wouldn't want any misunderstandings to put a rift between myself and anyone else.  

However, sometimes even when I am listening I don't understand.  

Truly.  

story to follow below: 

I may or may not have been "half watching" a Star Trek movie with Eric this weekend.  (The reasons for the half watching will go left unsaid in this post).  Even without someone really cute sitting by me and distracting me I have a hard time always understanding and following movies. 

So, at one point in the movie (and a lot of other points too, but this is just about the "one point") I was confused about what was happening, so I said to Eric.  "What is going on? What is that? I don't really understand?!"  

People were jumping out of ships (the starship enterprise if I remember correctly. . . . deathstar is star wars, enterprise is star trek right?) and fighting and all sorts of REALLY riveting stuff.  I just didn't understand who was in charge, why they were jumping or fighting or what was going on.  So, that is why I asked. Simple question. 

Without even making fun of me or rolling his eyes (well he may have rolled his eyes, maybe I just didn't see) Eric told me that "It is a drill."

Oh, it all made perfect sense now.  I get it. A drill.  They were just practicing.  You know, like a drill.  I now had a frame of reference.  We have fire drills, earthquake drills, lockdown drills etc. . . at school all the time.  It is good to be prepared.  I was glad that the Starship Enterprise was gong to be prepared as well.  Prepared for what I wasn't sure, nor did I really care if we are being honest -- but remember this wasn't about the half watching the movie part of the night that was important to me it was about who I was with and what I was doing when I wasn't half watching. . . . catch my drift.  The important thing is that now I knew it was a drill and I was happy to keep on half watching. 

Anyway, I was grateful that he would answer my question and that I actually listened to the answer.  I was still kind of confused at the movie and what was happening, but decided to let Eric watch in peace and quiet.  

About a half hour of half watching later it occurred to me that it wasn't really a "drill" that they were doing.  This was for real.  A real life, real fantasty, real star-trek situtation with a real DRILL.  You know the kind that bores into other planets kind of a drill.  The kind of drill I borrow from my dad to hang my curtains kind of a drill (ya, I'm super good with tools like that if it comes to hanging cute projects and or curtains).  

Drill:  one word, one phonetic way to say it, two meanings.  

I guess that listening isn't always enough. . . . I should probably restate what I hear in a context rich sentence to see if I understand.  

ie:  "Oh, she is a little horse" might be what you hear.  "Really, a little horse?! that's nice." when what they mean is "Oh she is a little hoarse" 

Or "He is working on his patience"  and you think. . . "ya, he really does need to work on his patience"when what they mean is "He is working on his patients"

Here are a few more that I thought of (in alphabetical order or course -- as opposed to coarse)

hoarse, horse

lie, lie

lessen, lesson

meat, meet

piece, peace

patience, patients

pour, poor

principal, principal

role, roll

sail, sale

shear, sheer

stationary, stationery

waist, waste

watch, watch

vain, vane

*** So, be careful when you are listening to also clarify.  It might help (just a little).  

Oh, and for the record:  The next night we half watched Pride and Prejudice and I had to answer his questions that time.  He's manly and sensitive like that to half watch Pride and Prejudice with me.  

(his idea, not mine. . . . but I think he knew that the other half of the evening that wasn't watching might be better with a movie like pride and prejudice in the background:  just saying)

There are no drills in pride and prejudice.  They do everything "for real" the first time. They don't have to practice. 

Also, until I go back to Oregon there will be no half watching of any movies. I guess I'll have to actually pay attention to the movies I watch. You can't half watch alone.  Lame.  

Also, we didn't take any pictures this trip, but here is one from last time.  

He really is that hot.  

(see the definition(s) of hot below)

Forget Mr. Darcy.  

 Hot:  attractive, handsome, irresistible, stunning
 Hot:  warm to the touch


No misinterpretation. He fits both descriptions.  

 

 

 

loves short hair

February 14th is all about Love. . . . loving your neighbor, loving your enemy, loving your kids at school (who spilled elmers glue all over you this morning), loving your family, loving your pink dress, loving the idea of getting a new haircut. . . . 

loving short hair

This little fact about me is not news to most of you.  

I am, after-all, according to my brother, the only girl who looks semi-okay with short hair.  

I can't think of a better day than valentine's day to think about how much I love short hair. 

 Plus if I blogged about my morning full of love it would contain a story about a student dropping the WHOLE bottle of elmers glue on me, my really great shoes and my dry clean only wool coat. 

Please take the time to tell me which cut you love! Better yet, which cut do you think you would love on my pretty face!? Note to my brothers:  don't waste your time trying to anonymously tell me not to cut my hair.  Your opinions have been expressed time and time again.  I know how you feel.  I am just ignoring you - on purpose. 

#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

Confessions

So far I have eaten more cinnamon cookie crunch popcorn than I have given away. 
(to my credit it isn't quite valentine's day, so I still have some deliveries to make)

I rolled my eyes about 10 thousand times at the camp meeting on Saturday.  It really was that ridiculous. 

Sometimes I sleep in the guest room because I don't have the energy to put my clean sheets back on my bed late at night. 

I try not to have favorites at school, but it is next to impossible. 

I am counting down the days until my student teacher leaves.

There are a few hymns in the hymnbook that I strongly dislike and when we sing them at church it makes me want to leave.  When I am asked to play the piano for those songs it makes me want to poke my eyes out. 

I vacuum and sweep daily.  It's and obsession. 

Often I will put a fabric softener sheet in the dryer with my workout clothes even though I know I am not supposed to. 


I check my email at least once an hour. (usually there is nothing new)

Sometimes I reject phone calls because I don't feel like talking.

I've worn pink everyday since February 1st.  I'm getting kind of sick of it.

I have fallen asleep 3 times this month reading my scriptures.  It is only the 12th.  That is not a good track record. 

I use capital R in the middle of words because I like writing capital r way better than lowercase.

I haven't weighed myself for 7 months.  Maybe I should, but for me it is better to just stay away from the numbers.   

I put on my mascara when I'm driving.  I figure it saves me about 1.6 minutes in the morning. 

I hope nobody turns me into the authorities or stops checking my blog.

I feel better having confessed. 

needs a little Luke time. . . . . .

What is not to love about this little face!?!?! mischief and all. . . . . I think it is high time I had a little Luke time! 

(or a lot of Luke time)

There is nothing else to say about this.  

I need to start formulating a plan! 

Loves to see the temple

This week at school one of the kids asked me what my favorite temple was.

It only seems random if you don't know that about 4 little boys in my class are currently on a quest to plan my wedding. Yep, you read right.  The boys.  They are fascinated and appalled by the fact that I am not married (but let's be real, who isn't shocked right?!).  So, they have taken on the responsibility of "getting things in order" for me so that I can get married and then be a better teacher because I won't be so lonely.

But that my friends, is a whole separate post.

The point is, that when one of the little boys, as he filled out his "wedding planning sheet" asked me what my favorite temple was I immediately said Timpanogos (which apparently means that according to their plans I am getting married there. . . . it is written down afterall). 

Then, it got me to thinking; Is it really my favorite, and or is it okay to have a favorite?   I think more than anything else it is just that I have fond memories associated with the Timpanogos temple.
* It was being built when I was in high school and I was a part of the open house and dedication services. 
* It was the first temple that I went through to receive my endowment
* I worked at the Timpanogos temple for a couple of years
*I can ride my bike there in under 30 minutes and drive there in 7 minutes
and the list could go on and on. 

This summer with the YW we took time to go go the Salt Lake temple and the Draper temple to do baptisms for the dead.  Both temples were unique and had both temples offered learning experiences. I hope that they can learn from my example and the efforts of their leaders to immerse them in the beauty that the temple holds and go back often. 

No matter what temple it is it is always the Lord's House and that is what is important. 

lives for phone calls

Cell Phone Picture #229

 I really did have to take upwards of 1000 pictures on my cell phone to get one that was finally cute enough to send to Eric so he would see what I looked like for our date the other night.  I know, you are thinking "really, that is the one she chose?" Yep.  It was the best one I took (which says a lot).  I am thinking that pictures taken in the guest bathroom are really not meant to be all that flattering. 

Picture #1

He, on the other hand, only had to take 1 picture to get a shot that looked that good.  Apparently, men who wear red are more attractive to women.  He's got it down.  

If ever the phrase waiting by the phone was applicable I think now would be the time.  

If you could talk to him on the phone, you would leave engagements early, schedule your time around a phone call and put on perfume too.  (okay, I didn't actually put on perfume).  

Maybe I've always been meant for phone calls. . . . I don't know.  I was the child growing up that made us have family home evenings solely dedicated to phone ettiqute. 

(that was on the off weeks when I wasn't insisting that we have another 'emergency drill'. I think i was a paranoid child, but back to the topic).  

I also frequently made phone calls for my siblings.  I am pretty sure I scheduled every haircut that Jim ever had, because heaven knows he wouldn't actually make the phone call.  I also broke up with Kristin's boyfriends on the phone a time or two (apparently we sound alike on the phone).  I always loved answering the phone and taking messages and such. I think it made me feel grown up. . . . . 

Well, now I am a grown up and I have been spending a lot of time on the phone and I wouldn't have it any other way.  (Well, I would like to have it another way, like I would love it if the phone calls were just to tell me he was a few minutes away from my house and coming to pick me up). 

As it stands, I love it every time he calls. . . . . and I make him call every time.  Whenever his name pops up on my phone a smile pops onto my face.  

I can talk to him for hours about anything and everything.  

I don't think he was so much a phone person, but increased the number of minutes he had on his phone plan for me.  Sweet right?!  :) 

So, while I wish that I could be with him, maybe talking on the phone isn't so bad. 

(I multitask while we talk and it is amazing how much I get done)

. . . . . and maybe, just maybe I was being prepared when I was young to be able to talk on the phone with such charm as to captivate someone as amazing as him.  

{and there is no need to suggest that we skype. . . my mom suggests it everyday (and wants to skype with us -- not happening).  I think it is weird, plus if we were skyping how would I wear my pajamas and do dishes and fold laundry and close my eyes and sort my mail and dust the piano and lay in bed while I talked to him? Not all at the same time of course, but you get the idea}

Needs an alternative

I know it is no big surprise that I dislike the word "boyfriend"

I may have mentioned it a time or two on my blog.

Consequently, I am also not a big fan of the word "girlfriend" either.

However, due to *recent events, I need to find an alternative.

I am asking for your suggestions.

I need you to either persuade me to use the word(s) boyfriend and girlfriend

 or I need an alternate.  

A viable alternate of course.

(Please include a good opening statement, 3 reasons why and a conclusion sentence since that is what good persuasive writing does),

Continue reading if you would like to read the first chapter of the *Recent Event story. . . . told in novel format.

"When I became a Main Squeeze"
Written by Amber Ostler
A true story

Once upon a time, a girl named Amber (yep, that's me) met a boy named Eric.  Like a real man does, he always made the phone calls and captivated Amber for hours on end with his wit, sincerity and charm.  After a few months of emails, phone calls and corresponding he couldn't stand it any longer so he decided to actually make his way to Utah and meet her.  Meet they did and Amber was impressed by his above average looks, kindness and the way he made her laugh. . . . . so after not too much convincing (or any at all) she decided he was more than worth giving a shot.

When he invited her to come to his hometown of Eugene Oregon she didn't even have to think about it.  Maybe she should have thought a little bit more about it, because then she got a little bit nervous and wasn't so sure what she was getting herself into.

Panic set in and after two days of packing and unpacking the carry-on bag and being talked off the ledge of uncertainty by Eric she arrived in Eugene. It just so happened that she was in Eugene on a Sunday, and on Sundays she goes to church. Interestingly enough so does Eric (go figure) so logically they went to church together.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, people were introduced, no awkwardness was present.  Amber was asked to give a prayer in Sunday School. . . no biggie, she knew how to pray.  Then, she was left alone in Relief Society (rightfully so, since Eric doesn't belong in Relief Society).

Emily, a nice sister in the ward introduced herself and to Amber and made her feel at home. All was going well until the well meaning new friend, Emily, took it upon herself to introduce Amber to the other sisters in Relief Society -- as Eric's new "Main Squeeze". 

"Main Squeeze!" she thought!? "If the word girlfriend makes me sound like I am 16 again, "main squeeze" makes me sound like I am somewhere closer to my grandmothers age."  Upon further discussion following church at family dinner being the main squeeze was laughed about. . . . however a viable replacement has yet to be found for the word "girlfriend" or "main squeeze" 

To be continued. . . . . .  

Should I get a shirt like this!? Would it look weird if I bedazzled a shirt for Eric that said "I "heart" my Main Squeeze?!