12

On the Twelveth day of Christmas (Break) my true love gave to me:

12 Drummers Drumming.

Seriously. 12 snares were in my living room this morning shortly after 9:00 to bang away for my dad who has been receiving a daily gift from Mom over the break. Let's take a moment and review:

12 Drummers Drumming
11 Pounds of Paper (this was decidedly sort of lame, but the alliteration worked, right?)
10 Frogs a Leapin' (yes we got 10 frogs for Christmas, but the Little'ns spend most of their time exclaiming "I think that one's dead!" Mom threatened to give them to a family who would love them and not be so morbid about it)
9 Fingers Dancing (apparently she found a 9 finger masseuse...or she refrained from using one of her pinkies)
8 Bars of Milka (okay, I think there were 5, but we put those on top of the other pseudo-chocolate bars)
7 Prawns a Sizzlin'
6 Pieces of Layer Cake (I thought this was the biggest stretch words-wise. But it tasted good, so I'm not complaining)
5 Gold Things! (We went to Sportsman's Warehouse and found gold things: a trailer hitch lock, water bottle, some fur...little did I know that Sportsman's has a craft aisle. I found a few unique gifts for Lil' Lou and Mogli. Mogli got a squirrel tail-bone included, and Lil'Lou got a rabbit "mask." and P.S. that picture is totally 100% not photoshopped)
4 Cheese Curds (I probably ate more squeaky cheese than Dad, but it's really hard not to when there are 4 bags in the fridge begging to be eaten)
3 French Pens
2 Purple Gloves
and a Cartridge in a Pair of Jeans (Lil'Lou and I were sent to get the jeans and she had a classic line. We were searching for the right size and could only find two pair to choose from. Of one pair Lil' Lou decidedly stated, "These are way too trendy for Dad," and she was probably right seeing as he's not really into the pre-faded, tumbled wash thing).

Boxing

The day has come to start boxing up Christmas. Honestly, it makes me sad to think that we have to box up the merriment, the cheer, the joy, peace, and noel along with the ornaments and lights, but alas I suppose most good things must come to an end. The stockings that used to be all hung by the fire with care are now in the bottom of an old apple box and the only remnants of decoration left in the house consists of the butter dish and the mother of all decorations, the revered Christmas Tree. This was just too big of an undertaking for today. But soon that too will be boxed away for another year and another season meanwhile we have to try our hardest to keep the spirit of Christmas alive rather than the spirit of bitter-cold and endless-snow misery. Winter after the holidays gets dreary. But soon enough school will start again and take my mind off the cold and focus it on things of wonderment and discovery.

Enjoyment

Things that I love (and/or slightly addicted to):
o banana bread batter - pretty much I'd rather eat the uncooked form of most desserts and baked goods, but today I felt particularly domestic and whipped out a few loafs. Mmmm...what a treat. I think the best part of any baking adventure is licking out the bowl and cleaning off the beaters with my tongue. It's truly an acrobat.
o my dear friend Cathy - she uses cool words like "divine" and "wretched" and I just think that she is fabulous. She also just found a guy with the sexiest name ever. Isaac Westwood. Say it ten times and tell me you don't imagine a cruelly good-looking man with an English accent. Isaac Westwood. Isaac Westwood. Isaac Westwood...
o cable-knit sweaters. I don't think there are too many things cozier than a cable-knit sweater. Seriously.
o taking pictures of my favorite-ever red chair. I don't know where my adoration for it stemmed from. In actuality It's just a beat-up red chair, but I love it so.
o my siblings. It's strange, this growing up and moving out business. You realize after you come home that your siblings grew up, got personalities, and are actually real people! People who are fun to hang around or go to movies with.

After a bit of a wrench thrown at my parent's day by my older sister, the tension level in our house went from a 1 to a 10 in about 32.7 seconds. Me and the young'ns sought refuge upstairs and took a brief hiatus to avoid the line of fire. We brought banana bread and a board game to keep us occupied. Luckily the storm downstairs cleared relatively quickly, because my pseudo-room became stuffy and uncomfortable rather quickly.

I saw a good flick tonight. The trailor alone made me laugh out loud. The language wasn't the best and some parts were a tad awkward, but overall, I thought it was really good and quite beautiful. I thought the actress was fantastic, the message good, and the soundtrack doesn't seem too shabby either...if anyone has an itunes gift card lying around, you can post it my way...

My mother is hysterical and I'm finding out more and more that I am like her in so many ways. The latest? Strange things happen to us. Things that would only happen to us. So much so that people say "A Paige thing happened to me today" or "I just pulled a Paige." A few days ago Mom was doing electronic acrobatics while trying to send a digital greeting to our friends over seas. Uploading an avi file has never been accompanied by more groans and moans. Amidst all the cords and digitizing, a rogue cord was plugged into the back of her computer in a futile attempt to pull video off the camera. After she was finished with the cord, she went to pull it out. It was stuck and stuck good. My dad tried, I tried, we all tried and to no avail the plug was planted and she was out of luck. Someone suggested calling the Geek Squad. I didn't think the idea was too shabby. Well today, days after the fact, she was fed up with the pesky cord and announced, "I'm going in! Paige, grab me the needle nose. " I was worried for the poor computer's backside. She started yanking and pulling, and the poor stressed plastic parts were going in directions they never imagined. I ran to hold it together while she channeled her frustrations and anger into removing the senselessly stuck cord. After much twisting and turning and a bit of torque, the cord came free and was obviously battered. The thing was bent and misshapen, but Mom proved victorious and I was proud of her. What a Paige...

R

So I am watching my first Rated R movie. The best part is that my parents are facilitating the whole experience. Only minutes into the film Tom Cruise drops the F-bomb. No one moves or says anything. Pretend it didn't happen...Then he said it again. Mom says, "Oops! Sorry." We chime in "That's the second one." "Really?" More of the film passes. A third F shoots out of his mouth and slaps us in the face. Family bonding is so wholesome. And just now as I wrote that, Tom and Dustin Hoffman had a little freakout in the airport. The tally is up to 5. But who's counting? The answer: Alison. She has commented after every one after the first. I just laugh. Oh my parents.

After the third Mom says, "This isn't rated R is it?" Will grabs the box, "Uh...yeeeeah, it's R." "Hmm. It must be for language. I don't remember anything objectionable." (The tally just went to 6). Well she spoke too soon. All of the sudden we hear a sex scene coming on and Mom was up in a flash (7) to turn off the TV while Dad lazily motioned "Get the box." (Crosland lingo translation: television remote). We successfully avoided a sexual run-in, but resumed watching the film. I was laughing so hard at my parents as I thanked them for my first Rated R experience. (And that makes 8). My mom was surprised I haven't watched one before this. I'm appalled that she had my integrity in question! But I'm glad we could have this experience together and all take part in some good old-fashioned, wholesome family bonding. (Oop! 9)

Music

I can't stop listening to this. The movie was fantastic and the soundtrack just as good. It's definitely soothing my nerves as I try and figure out how to put music on Alison's latest joy and surprise Christmas gift--her beloved Juke cellphone. Why is the day after Christmas always so frustrating?

Wrapping

Last year we mosied downstairs around 9 and gathered round for presents. This year I expected much the same. Me being the last one out of bed by the pleas of the little'nes, and a gradual awakening, like some golden ratio between number of opened boxes and my awakeness.

I think I'll attribute it to the onesie I wore to bed, but this year I woke up excited and scrambled for my ipod to get the time. 3:39 am! I don't think I've woken up that early out of Christmas Excitement since I was in the sixth grade. I realized I was cold, and that my sisters who were sleeping on either side of me were on top of my covers. So I booted Mogli over in his bed and snuggled in until my cell phone alarm went off at 8:17. I forgot to turn it off.

I think the highlight of my morning was watching Lil' Lou open her cell phone. I've had the number programmed into my phone as "Santa" for over a month now. Another highlight was hearing the groans from the living room as Lil Lou and Mogli found the surprises I left in their stockings for them. It will take a bit of explaining.

A few days ago I was at Sportsman's Warehouse with Mom searching for "5 Gold Things" for Dad. (She's doing "The Twelve Days of Christmas Break" for him and the next day was day 5). Well I had no idea that A) Sportsman's Warehouse has a craft aisle and B) that they have animal parts in the craft aisle. I found a "rabbit mask" which I purchased for $2 for Lil' Lou and a squirrel tail with the bone still inside that I bought for Mogli. They freaked out, but after the initial shock, they laughed up a storm and we decided that later we'll make a Squrabbit.

I love the wrapping, I love the feelings, I love being surrounded by family. I love the lights, I love the music, I love the extra cheer.

We played games with my Dad's side in the early afternoon and spent time laughing together. This game is one of our family favorites and we get a kick out of watching newcomers enter the game play and see how freaked out they get. After we headed up to Mom's side for Christmas Dinner and more family time. The holidays were all wrapped up tonight at the Crawley's house with some cards, enchiladas, and Guitar Hero. I've mastered Medium, but I'm still too scared to graduate to Hard.

White

There's a scripture in Alma that says, "The scriptures are laid before thee, yea, and all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator." I have put this to the test in the past and found that it's true. But tonight I was impressed with that fact without even trying.

The world is covered in white. It looks clean and pure and without spot. The Hebrew word for the Atonement is "kaper" meaning "a covering." The snow is like a covering for the earth, the cold before the renewal of spring, the rebirth, the life that comes again after the dark and the freezing. The white also reminds me of the resurrection; the glorious white and light that I'm sure accompanied the Savior home to his Father. The snow comes after the red leaves burn the mountains red, after the death of the leaves. It's like the earth continues in the cycle of Christ's life. Birth every spring, crucifixion every fall.

But I love the image of the snow and the atonement. When it snows, the world can't get dark, not fully. Everything reflects the light, beaming it around and making the nights seem only dim. The atonement brings a light into our lives. The light is reflected in everything we do, making our nights seem bright.

I am grateful for the reminders all around me that point my thoughts toward He who created me.

Bells

I heard a story recently and at one point it referenced "all the bells in Switzerland ringing together..." and it shot me into a succession of memories from Germany. I would wake up every morning to the porcelain church bells accompanied by the bells from the cathedral around the corner ringing loud and clear. There is not a better alarm. I loved it.

Sunday morning was euphoric when at fifteen minutes before the service was to begin, the bells in the entire city started to ring. Probably the entire country had bells ringing, calling the faithful to worship. (The ironic part is that a majority of the population has no interest in God or any other sort of divine being). The mixture of dark resonance and the tinkling sounds of the high ringing tones provided the prelude as the bells rang incessantly for a quarter of an hour.

I wish I was there now so I could hear the bells on Christmas day. They are one thing that I miss often. Luckily, I get a taste of Meissen when the bell tower rings out over campus.

180

It feels like I've had a few battles for my life lately. Between rogue drivers, getting crushed by a mirror, and a possible stress overload, I feel lucky to be alive. This morning proved to be especially treacherous as I ventured out unwittingly on the "worst commuting day of the year" to take other Roommate to the airport. I had work at 10, so we had decided yesterday that leaving at 8 would give me enough time to get her there and get back before work. When I got back last night, I talked to her and we agreed to leave earlier. We were on the road by 7:15.

The roads were a bit slick, but nothing too crazy. That is until we got to the point of the mountain. Traffic slowed to a near standstill and we were congratulating ourselves on making such an early start. I was sure we were good on time.

But we probably spent a good hour never going above 35, and I started getting worried and disoriented. I'm not sure if it was the snow, the smog, or how long it was taking, but all of the sudden I was nervous that I had missed my exit. I kept driving, but I was scared and felt like I was lost and I was in a time crunch. Yikes!

Then I saw the Belt Route Exit. Perfect. I'm Okay. But I soon realized that there is a freeway exit AND the Belt Route connection at the same place and then I was struck with the knowledge that I was getting off the freeway and passing where I really wanted to go. Crap!

I thought about driving over the gore zone but decided that was a bad idea seeing as it was covered in snow, and I had no idea if it was painted, striped lines, or a gravel pit. So I just exited, drove a loop, and got back on the freeway. I'm an idiot, I know. We were back on the road and connected to the Belt Route just fine. All was going just fine, I could see fairly well, and we were moving along at probably 45. Then the time came to exit. We had made it. Phew!

Or so I thought...

For those of you familiar with Utah freeways, you know that the exit lanes merge into a single lane fairly soon off the exit. Well, the bozo next to me wasn't aware of this when he realized what was going on, he jerked right and this freaked me out so I jerked right to miss him and then it happened. I started fish tailing, right, left, right left...I knew I had no traction at this point and so my thoughts were centered on getting out of the way. This was hard seeing as I could turn my wheel without consequence. Soon enough, however, my front tires caught some gravel or something on the side of the road and caused my car to do a complete 180! We slammed to a stop, but after doing a little inventory, Roommate and I found that not only had not hit anything, both of us were alright. Okay. Breathe!

We sat there staring all the passing cars in the face. They rubbernecked as they passed and I felt about as stupid as I ever have in my life. Holy crap I felt so dumb. Everyone was assessing us, giving us the up down, seeing if we had done anything exciting. Well we had. They missed it. Bummer for them. Then the meanest man in Utah passed us in his blue minivan, feeling super sweet and clapping at us. What a jerk huh? Roommate and I decided that he must drive a snowplow because all snowplow guys are mean.

Well she made it to the airport and it only took us and hour and 45 minutes. And I made it home alive, but a little shaken up.

Noodles

Sometimes I think there is something in the water on campus. Either that or sleep deprivation affects people in a multitude of diverse ways. Tonight one of my roommates made delicious lasagna (in the oven next door because the Omen still hasn't been fixed) and we sat down as a little dorm family and had a meal together. It was a lot of fun just being with everyone. After when I got up to rinse my plate, I noticed that there was a large lasagna noodle in the sink, perfectly intact. I was shocked! The roommate who made dinner knows how much I love plain noodles! So I called her on it. She shot back "I left some in the pot for you. There should be three." Oh she knows me so well...

Well, I was sufficiently stuffed and the noodles were cold and slightly unappetizing, so I decided to make a little mischief. I think it's inherent, like pest/mischief maker is genetically encoded in my DNA. I picked up a noodle, and flung it at Roommate. It totally stuck to her face and it was one of the best moments of my young life. She looked completely shocked that I had the gall to do such a thing and as soon as she woke up from her stunned state she picked the noodle up and threw it back at me. Gasp! How could she?

We both ran to the pot and I tried to take both the noodles as a defensive move of sorts, but she was just as quick as I and within moments we were both armed with one noodle each. Squaap! Noodle to the face. Spluk! Noodle to the jeans. Pflt! Noodle down! Quick grab it! It went on like this for a good five minutes before we were laughing so hard we were tearing up and couldn't see where to fling our noodles next.

I decided again that as weird as the dorms and college in general is, I love it. I honestly love the girls I live with and through all the stress and muck that comes along with your freshman year, who better to share it with than noodle-flinging roommates?

Finally

Finals are over. Hooray, hallelujah and Merry Christmas. They all went fairly well I think but we'll find out for sure in January. I might not post about that one...My first B ever is definitely coming my way like a slap in the face. Anticipating a slap is so not fun. But the weightless feeling of having NOTHING on my plate is refreshing for sure.

Merriment

Question: Who does all their Christmas shopping during finals week? Answer: Insane people. AKA me. Why you ask? Well that's a good question. It beats the library that's for sure!

Today I made a few friends at the stores and realized that people really are merrier during the holiday season. What is it? The icy air? The frosted store fronts? The brightly colored lights? Wrapping paper? Whatever it is, it sure adds to my Christmas season experience every year.

Target is where I met my first friend. It was sort of an awkward encounter at first. The lady kept giving me the fake out like she was leaving so I'd step toward the register, but I was distracted so I wasn't looking, and then I'd realize that I was literally inches from her. So I'd step back. She'd move. I'd move. She'd move back. We kept brushing shoulders and touching arms. It was just a little intimate for an initial run-in. I apologized for the awkwardness and we laughed about it for a second. I just love good-humored people. As she was leaving (for real this time) she walked over to me, put her hand on my arm and said in a sarcastic, but sort of sultry whisper, "I just had to touch you one more time before I go..." the longing in her voice was hysterical. Here she is, some mother of at least the three who were hanging on and in her cart, but looking like she was in her early 40's, totally joking around with some complete stranger and caressing her arm. She was in the happiest mood and I attribute it to the Christmas spirit.

At the next store the checker was just so chatty and cheery I could hardly stand it. I learned that she is a World War II buff and has recently gotten into Dean Hughes' recent books that integrate the church and the war. Interesting. She also has a book list that she carries around in her purse and is constantly adding to. She has over 100 books that she wants to read. That would be completely overwhelming to me.

I love how people interact more and share more in December. Maybe with the cash and cards as loose as they are, peoples minds and mouths follow suit. I like it. There really is something significantly different around Christmas time and it's not just my checking account balance.

Gloria!

The Mormon Tabernacle Christmas Concert is first rate. I went up with my family tonight and had a wonderful time being fed musically, spiritually, emotionally, visually. . . It was definitely a diverse feast. It was the first time in a long time that I've actually given a standing ovation, not out of obligation and peer-pressure from the surrounding, stand-happy, concert-goers, but out of sincere appreciation and love for the work that was displayed.

Some of the numbers stunned me by their complicated technicality, and others by their sheer beauty and invitation of the spirit. Some numbers amused me, and some merely touched me. It was a wonderful collaboration of sorts, a celebration, an ascension of glorias to an Infant King.

It also made me miss my violin. I still love to play, but time is always short - always! How does it become so? But I'm hoping that over Christmas I'll be able to sit down and enjoy a few hours of stringed pleasures. Playing makes me think of so many great memories that have been had with that little wooden instrument in my hands. It has brought me such a mixture of frustrations and joy, sometimes I don't know what to think about it. But on nights like tonight I miss being able to walk downstairs, pull it out, and run my fingers up and down the ebony fingerboard, and let the rosined bow slide with solidity across the vibrating strings.

Funnies

I think I should note the hilarious things I hear people say while I pass them on my way to wherever I'm going. Today my favorite was:
"I think I'm having one of those brain . . . anumdrums . . .no, anerisy. . . wait, a brain--oh you know what I mean." Chuckle chuckle chuckle.

Lists

I've been running on low batteries for the last few day and I've been as busy as I can ever remember. Sleeping and eating have become dead last on my priority list and it's definitely taking its toll on me.

Monday I started out strong, thinking I could conquer all, feeling the pressure of being productive at the beginning of the week because of how much I am planning on working this weekend, but knowing that I am fortified with power and ability to navigate the whiles of a crazy week. The way that I saw it, I would be either in class or studying from 8 until well after midnight each night. I planned on having this morning and Saturday morning as my "productive mornings" where I could clear some of the looming tasks clear off my to-do-list. There are things on there that are dusty I've put them off so long. It's not entirely my fault, things come up and as the snow falls outside, the snowball is picking up speed inside as there is more and more on my plate during the final stretch of the semester.

This morning, however, was consumed by working a catering gig in Salt Lake. Monday night I received a phone call begging me to take the job because they are short on people at this time of the year. With parties stacking up along with finals, the college workers are suddenly MIA. I consented to be there at 6:30 am and work until my class at 2. I'm now sitting in the library. My class got canceled, and I just need a breather for a few minutes before I buckle down for the next hour and a half.

I have a 3 hour class at 4 and then I'm meeting my roommates to go see Little Women, which will provide a much needed break before I head to the library again to labor over some paper, lecture, drawing . . .

Tomorrow my to-do list consists of two things: Work in the office from 9 to 1 and work catering from 1:30 to midnight. After that, I plan on painting until I can't keep my eyes open anymore and then I'll steal some hours of sleep before waking up early to finish my art final projects, my Book of Mormon Paper and then catering at 3.

It's nuts how some weeks just come at you fast. I feel a little disheveled and beat-up, tired and maybe a little hungry. But soon enough the holidays will be here and I'll have fewer things to stress about. Until then, I'd better start chipping away at the lists of things to do and get that all-too-amazing satisfactory feeling of checking off a box!

Twins

Word on the street has it that I look like Elizabeth Smart. ??? A few years ago when she was missing, my young women's leader was the first to get the bright idea, "Hey! Let's dress you in a burka, tie you up, shove you in the back of my car and drive around the mall parking lot!" Brilliant right? Well turns out I didn't need the burka or cords to be interrogated about my identity. I was in a department store with my cousin when a lady came up to me and asked me my name. I answered honestly but a bit hesitantly because I couldn't decide why she wanted to know. "Paige." "No, you must be Elizabeth smart. You've obviously been brain washed. I WILL HELP YOU!" she said in an intense whisper. "Um. No. My name is Paige--" She cut me off and I motioned to my cousin and mouthed "Get over here!" she vouched for me and we got out unscathed and much relieved to be rid of the extra-hyper-concerned citizen. Incidents similar to this happened on numerous occasions for the few first months Elizabeth Smart was M.I.A.

Well yesterday (years after Elizabeth Smart has been out of the limelight) I was on a catering job in Alpine. While I was setting the tables two ladies bustled up to me excitedly and started asking me questions. "Is your company based in Provo?" "Yes it is." "And how old are you sweety?" "I'll be 19 in a few months" "Does your name happen to be Elizabeth?" Hesitantly, "My middle name is Elizabeth..." and then they sensed the unease and wonder in my voice about why they were asking me all these leading questions. "We're sorry, it's just that, isn't that Smart girl going to school in Provo? She's about your age and when we saw you, we were convinced that Elizabeth Smart was going to be our server!" I didn't quite know what to say. I was caught a bit off guard, it has been years since this sort of thing happened and I thought these two were so funny.

I guess Elizabeth Smart has become some sort of celebrity. So much so that she's sought after like a movie star. I gave Ida and Delli quite the let down by admitting that I was just a student from Provo and not ELIZABETH SMART!!!

So after much searching on the internet and through my iphoto pictures, I have concluded that I don't look like her. Oh well. Ida and Delli think I do.