Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Election day

Today was election day. And for the first time I'm disappointed in myself for not voting. I don't have a legitimate reason. It was simply because I didn't get my act together soon enough and change my information from Utah to California so I couldn't register to vote here.
I've always felt a big responsibility to vote. I've always believed that our freedom and right to vote is what thousands of Americans have suffered and given their lives for. But tonight I find myself doubting.
I can't help but feel how divided this country has become. And I've been thinking of what the majority of the people's vote really means. Is it enough to give the majority of the people what they want? As far as I can tell, the majority have never had a problem with getting what they want. It's the little guy, the minority that gets neglected and forgotten. The minority of the people that aren't heard.
I live in a state with 55 democratic electoral votes. 55! And I'm suppose to believe that my 1 vote is going to make a difference? No. Let's call it what it really is. 1 vote doesn't make a difference, only the majority can make a difference in this country.
By thinking this, some might say I'm not patriotic. I don't feel I'm unpatriotic. If anything, the fact I'm thinking about the election, making an unbiased and objective opinion on my own, helps me care more about this country. It makes me genuinely sad to see something I believed in, something I hoped for, not come to pass. And that's normal. It's normal to feel disappointed. And that's all.
It's not going to be the end of the world. The economy may fail. The middle class may become extinct. Good doctors and health providers may disappear. But tomorrow I'm going to wake up at 7AM, go running, then go to class like always, and continue on with my life. Living the best I can. Striving to achieve the best I can. And preparing the best life that I can for the family I'll have. And for now, that's enough.

Monday, November 5, 2012


I haven't shared this before. Mostly because I felt it wasn't mine to share. But tonight I find myself overwhelmed, crying all kinds of nastiness and needing a place to put my thoughts.

In July my eldest sister was diagnosed with stage 3, level 3, colon cancer. 

 It was a surprise and shock to everyone. She's a young 32 years old, had just finished her first year back at school, she's a wife and step-mother and looked forward to having babies of her own. She's someone I look up to in so many ways and love as deeply as you could only love a sister. 

For as long as I can remember she's always been there for me. Growing up I had my fair share of health problems. I was either breaking bones or in the emergency room to get my appendix out or something or other. Her and her roommate would visit me and make me posters and get well cards. As I grew up and she continued to be there through other challenges other than health. She'd listen to me talk about boys and plan fun girl days. 

It wasn't until all this happened that I realized how she's always been there for me but I've never had the opportunity to be there for her. She just always seemed happy and living life exactly how she planned and wanted. And now I can't help but think how badly I want to be there and support her in her time of need. 

I know it will be okay. She will be okay. I will be okay. And my family will be okay. That doesn't mean that I don't have the darkest, scariest fear whispering in my mind and heart every day, but it means that I have faith and hope. I've felt first hand how real the Savior is and how healing his love can be. I know that he gives us experiences we need to shape and shift us into the people he needs us to be. And for that I will try to be grateful for this experience too. 

Plus, us Allen's, we're strong, stubborn fighters. {Ask our husbands.} And I know my sister is not going to take this lying down. 

"vd?" "no tvd. gosh, it's not that confusing."

I have a confession... this song is from The Vampire Diaries soundtrack. 
You'd think that would embarrass me. Ooooh-ho-ho-ho...oh if only. Alas, the Delana and Stelena drama keeps me coming back for more. So there you have it. Imagine some teen bopper drama going on and it will just swirl you away.



Lately, I find myself surrounded by women that feel the need to comment on my hair and my styling choices. Back in June I decided to go with the hombre/melt trend and I have absolutely been loving it! But since, women in my ward feel it necessary to make rude and mean comments. {I'll try to keep it nice.} At first it made me insecure about my hair. I'd always gotten a lot of compliments on my "long thick dark hair" and suddenly they stopped. And even though I loved how it looked, I started to regret my decision. Up until about 2 months ago.

I looked around and realized there are so many beautiful people out there with much crazier hair than me {I? Whatever.} I thought about people in my life that I respect that are always changing their hair and trying new things. I feel I'm pretty conservative when it comes to my style but I always loved that others could go from long hair to a short pixie cut, or whatever. I never thought less of these people if they styled their hair a way I'd never feel comfortable with. If anything it contributed to what made them them! And the fact that they felt comfortable and confident enough to have fun and play with their hair really made me respect them more. Just like I can respect someone who decides to never dye or cut their hair. Some people have the exact same hair style their entire life! And you know what, that's okay too. So my question is, why do people feel the need to constantly hate on others? Whether it's their hair, their clothes, what they choose to do with their free time?

I know this... I will encourage my children to be themselves. I'll encourage creativity in forms of healthy expression. I will love them unconditionally of whether they dye their hair, they wear baggy clothes or jeans that are covered in rhine stones, whether they're chubby or skinny, a cheerleader or the chess club president. I will love them and support them and hopefully teach them to do the same. Because this world already has too much hate.

Friday, November 2, 2012

gods living creatures... Ants excluded

I found this little guy on his back while coming home from my walk with Sawyer. I scooped him up and literally almost broke into tears when I realized he couldn't fly. I ran inside and started researching butterflies and how to save them.
I learned this is a male Monarch Butterfly and a very beautiful one at that. I also learned that, to my dismay, there isn't much you can do for hurt butterflies. So I sat there holding my pet butterfly, crying, and thinking how cruel the world was that something so beautiful had to die this way.
Husband is always patient and sweet when I get emotional about Gods living creatures. He hugs me and wipes my tears and tells me it will be okay. That he probably lived a full life. That we'll put him somewhere beautiful outside so he can die happy.
I finally felt better after I said a prayer for the little guy, okay enough to leave him to go to Trader Joes with Matt. Plus I thought it might be a good distraction, so we headed out to the car.
Matt had had a headache all day so I decided to drive. So I pulled out of the garage, then drove back in, and then pulled out and in again. Matt looked at me so confused and asked, "What...what are you doing??" I looked at him as if it were obvious and kind of laughing at myself said, "Killing ants!" Because hello! There was a huge trail of ants going through our garage. And if there is anything I despise in the world it's cruelty to animals and ANTS. I seriously hate them.
Matt bust up laughing. Apparently my drastic change of concern for Gods living creatures was amusing to him. Oops :)