what summer's about

Next week I'll continue on with my 30 Things posts, but today, I want to tell you about my bomb diggity day I had yesterday. 

Zac, Josh, and I took a sick day off of work. 

We drove around in the Utah sun. 

We watched Adventure Time. 

We went for a run (Josh and I mostly watched Zac run haha ><). 

They played video games while I napped and read Ender's Game. 

We got lemonade from a lemonade stand, where four kids surrounded a lopsided table and dropped our cups and straws again and again in the grass. The wind and 45 degree angle didn't help, either.

We shared a Costco pizza and got ice cream bars.

We sat in the back of Josh's truck while the sun went down and talked and talked and talked.

We went back to Josh's house, where I read and they played Pokemon. 

Zac and I didn't get home until 2 am.

Yesterday was what summer's about.

:]

Sorry I didn't have a camera.

><
But here's a picture anyway.

my pet peeves--do i have to make a sandwich? can't i just starve instead?

11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have.

Writing this list tonight has helped me realize just how impatient I can be--and how justified I can be sometimes when something makes me tick. Needless to say, I am kind of grumpy now and just want to eat the Oreo Pie Zac and I made earlier. :] Here are my pet peeeeeves.

10. When guys think you’re flirting and you’re just not.

 9. When a book’s full of clichés, bad dialogue, and adverbs.

8. Religious debates online. (I like having fun, intelligent religious conversations in real life—but online? Bah. No, thank you).

7. When the fridge is full of ingredients for food—but you just want instant gratification. haha

6. When someone wakes me up before my alarm goes off.

5. When people ask me if I’m pregnant yet—because that’s all I have to offer the world now that I’m married. >< haha

4. When my earbuds don’t stay in while I run and listen to music. haha

3. Trying to hold a conversation with a person who just talks about how busy and stressed he/she is ALL THE TIME.

2. Doing all the work in a group project.

1. When Jello has coconut, fruit, or nuts in it. >< Just plain yummy Jello for me, please! …Okay, marshmallows are fine. :D

30 Things

10. my most embarrassing moment. oh no.

10. Describe your most embarrassing moment.

I have three “most embarrassing moments.” One is so embarrassing it could be considered quite disgusting; another will forever make me face palm; and the last story is best told out loud. I’m not so sure I’m brave enough to tell the first one (I’ll just sum it up for you—think 3 hour blizzard, traffic jam, no bathroom—yeah… I’ll leave it at that haha).

My second story involves an awkward encounter with a boy (doesn’t it always?).

And the third story is just plain ridiculous (I may record myself telling it, that way you can face palm and laugh at me even more).

I’m sure you’re all dying to hear about the boy—and, without naming names and getting all weird—I’m just gonna plow on ahead. Haha So. I was 17 at the time and been crushing major on this guy for about a year. Pretty sure everyone knew it—and I’m pretty positive he did, too. Whenever he was around me, I tried coming up with funny stories to make him laugh—and seem completely oblivious to how he made me feel. Hard game to play for a year, let me tell you. That summer, we became good friends, and I thought he was interested in me. One night, I got up the courage I’d been holding in for FOREVER and made a move. He turned his head away, my kiss landed on his cheek, and he said, “No.”

…

I think I died and exploded and fainted right then and there. Come to find out, I was still very much alive and conscious when I heard him say, “I’m sorry—I just don’t feel the same way about you. You’re not my type.” I kind of blanked out for a bit, then came back to hear: “You’re gonna find someone who loves you for you, but that’s not me.” Awkward silence and then he said, “Poptarts?” Then we split some Poptarts and we confirmed we’d still be friends.

*Let out long breath*

Welp.

That’s my most embarrassing story, folks. I didn’t go into too much detail for fear of more embarrassment on my part and his. Let’s just say, there’s more to the story…but I wouldn’t dare put it up. Hahhaa That’s all you’re getting from me!

Now, to be fair, what’s your most embarrassing moment? :]

30 Things

my 10 influential people

9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.

Sorry about the sudden drop in posts! Good golly, this list was hard. However, I was told by two wonderful ladies in church today that they love my blog! Hooray! Thank you for the spontaneous confidence boost and in honor of those women, here’s another post. :]

In no particular order, here are the wonderful people in my life that have influenced me and helped mold me into who I am today.

A HUGE THANK YOU AND BEAR HUG TO ALL OF YOU.

(Maybe an extra one for Zac ;])

My parents have taught me to get back up after I’ve fallen down.

My in-laws never fail in reminding me I’m loved and to be easier on myself. Haha Still working on that one.

My siblings give me a sense of belonging—one I could never find anywhere else.

My friends have given me so much more than I could ever give them—second chances and long hugs.

George Nelson has encouraged me in what I really want to do—write plays—and live the Gospel while doing so.

Mrs. Parker helped me find my inner voice and articulate it on the page.

Coach Kuhlmann believed in my running and my ever growing potential.

Wooge gave me responsibility—in band as well as in other areas of my life—and never gave up on me. He also introduced me to a ton of good music. :]

The nursery kids give me hope and excitement for my future children and my role as a mother.

Zac is my weird, amazing, silly, intense, loving, forgiving, outrageous, hilarious, passionate, and eternal husband—who loves me for me. We are so strange.

30 Things

Doid.

You may have noticed some housekeeping around these parts. I've spent most of my day off today rolling up my sleeves and making my blog more "me." I even went so far as to change the title! What's the meaning of this? Well, let me tell you. :]

Before I was born, mom and dad had an odd habit of renaming certain things. "Elephant" became "elephink." "Giraffe" became "giraffickle." When I was born, my parents agreed to call me Chelsea. Then dad turned to mom and said, "That's a Chelsoid." Since then, my nickname has been shortened to just Doid. Call it weird, call it cute. But that's just how we roll. :]

Not many people know about my family nickname, but that got me thinking. Blogs are for the exploration of thought and discovering new things about yourself and other people. And I felt like my previous blog's title wasn't completely "me." So I decided to spruce it up a bit and place my official stamp on my corner of the internet. Ha! Take that! haha :]

My name's Doid.

It's nice to meet you.

My passions

8. What are 5 passions you have?

passion (noun): any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling.

what I'm passionate about:

//freedom\\

expression. thought. beliefs. open-mind. patience.

//love\\

romantic. platonic. unconditional.

//learning\\

education. experience. second chances.

//family\\

husband. parents. siblings. extended family. future children. :D.

//creativity\\

writing. acting. reading. finger painting. collages.

i felt like this post needed to be all lower-cased for some reason. but yeah. there's not much to this post, but i think simplicity is nice once in a while, you know? what i'm passionate about shouldn't be complex or over-written. it should be clear and stark. because that's what passion is, am i right? :] it's a "powerful or compelling emotion or feeling" and that isn't hard to understand. everyone has passions.

what are your passions?


30 Things

My life changed today

I'm gonna take a quick break from my 30 Things posts and focus in on my Sunday thoughts.

Today was life changing. Pure and simple. I haven't felt this uplifted and spiritual in a long time--and it's all because of a little girl in my ward named Emily.

For those of you who don't know, my church doesn't baptize babies. We see babies as perfect and faultless--when kids reach eight years old, and feel ready for baptism, they can be baptized. They make the decision when they're ready--and we see the "age of accountability" as eight years old.

Anyway, an adorable little girl in my ward, Emily, is just seven years old and she got up in church to bear her testimony. (Again, for those of you who don't know, the first Sunday of every month is called Fast Sunday in my church--where we as a congregation fast from food and are encouraged to bear our testimonies during Sacrament meeting--it's like we're feasting on the words of Christ rather than on physical food). Toward the end of the meeting, Emily stood up and walked to the front of the room and stood up on the pulpit and said,  "I know I'm only seven, but I can't wait to get baptized. I can't wait to be 8 years old. I know Jesus loves me and I want to love Him back."

Her testimony was short and heartfelt. She paused a lot--trying to make each word count. I was instantly moved to tears--and remembered what my life was like when I was seven. As you can read here, it wasn't perfect--far from it. I wondered if I should bear my testimony as well...but hesitated because I had no idea what I was going to say and I was nervous. Zac saw how much Emily's words meant to me. The tears just streamed down my face and Zac asked me if I wanted to bear my testimony. I nodded and he encouraged me to go up. I was the third to last to bear my testimony. Let me try to recall what it is I said, haha.

"Hi, for those of you who don't know me, I'm Chelsea Hickman. I haven't felt this way in a long time--and I want to tell you that today I really feel it. The Spirit is so strong (I started to cry really hard here) and I'm up here because of the little girl's testimony. I'm sorry I don't know her name. It amazed me how ready she is to be baptized and where she is at her age. It made me think of my life when I was seven and how much I wanted my parents to be strong in the Church. (More tears and a long pause) But I am so grateful for where I am now and the Gospel has literally saved my life so many times. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

That's basically the gist of what I said today. I smiled at Bishop Mower as I stepped down from the pulpit and smiled at everyone I could as I made my way back to Zac. He hugged me and told me he enjoyed what I said. At one point, Emily and I made eye contact and smiled at each other.

Then came the whole reason why I'm writing this post.

After Sacrament meeting, everyone was getting up to go to classes and stuff. I told Zac I was totally drained and may not be able to make it through the final two hours of church. Then Emily came up to me.

She said, "Are you the girl that got up and talked?"
I said, "Yes."
She said, really quiet, "My name's Emily by the way."
I said, "Emily. Thank you. Can I hug you?"
haha She held out her arms and let me hug her close. I may or may not have cried on her shoulder--but she was so sweet and so understanding. She pulled back and then I asked for another hug. haha We hugged each other again and then she pulled away. She saw how much I'd been crying and said, "It's all right."

How grateful I am for today. How grateful I am to have had such a special and intimate experience with that sweet, caring little girl who was brave enough to share her simple testimony. And how thankful I am for change and progression both temporarily and spiritually.

Love,
Chelsea

7. My Dream Job: Playwright-Mommy Extraordinaire

7. What is your dream job, and why?

When I was a little girl, I never wanted to be an astronaut. The thought of being out in space, all alone, with nothing holding you close was TERRIFYING. I couldn't understand why so many kids wanted to do that--or be a fire fighter. haha I just wanted to be a librarian. Nice and quiet librarian.

As I got older, my parent's writing inspired me. My dad used to be a journalist and my mother is an author. I knew in middle school I wanted to write. Anything and everything. That's what I wanted to do.

For the past three years of college, I've been in the acting major for two years and the theatre arts studies major for one year. I love what I've accomplished in my time at BYU--I've learned so much. Not only about myself but also about what matters and what doesn't. Two years ago, I would've flat out answered "What is your dream job?" with ACTING. Now, I can't wait to write plays and screenplays and television scripts. (Granted, I'm very excited for whatever comes my way with regards to acting and I'll consider myself very blessed indeed to have those opportunities :])

As I'm getting ready for graduate school, I've done a lot of research for MFA's in Playwriting. Most people say that there needs to be a purpose behind your dramatic writing--whether that be teaching or something else. They also suggest majoring in playwriting/screenwriting/television, not just playwriting. For me, I definitely know I'd love to teach--either at the high school or college level. I'm not sure how many high schools have a specific playwriting/screenwriting/television class I could teach (haha) but that would be an awesome job for me.

I also know I can't wait to just write all day.
By that point, I'll probably be a MOM.
Which brings me to my ultimate dream job.
For realisies.

I cannot wait to be a mom. When I was a senior in high school, I shouted in my Honors English class, "I CAN'T WAIT TO BE A MOM!" hahahaha A lot of kids were like "What?" And honestly, I don't remember the context of the conversation at the time, but seriously. I want to be a mother. Not any time soon, mind you. But someday. I want to be a mother.

A full time author/wife/mother.

That's my dream job.

30 Things

6. The hardest thing I've ever experienced

6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?

...
I've pondered this question for the past two days--and sat down to write this post many times--hoping to sound "meaningful," "inspiring," or "heartfelt"...but at the moment, I am scared. A montage of images keep flashing in my head and I don't know if I'd feel comfortable writing them or even having them read by anyone.

*Deep breath*

When I was seven, my mother married the father of my half-sister, Julia. Julie is so beautiful and I love her oh so much. I did not love her father. He was a weird man. A man that I never felt comfortable around. A man that did not respect his role as a "father" and "husband." A man that was abusive--in more ways than one. A man that hurt my mother and my family. A man that hurt me.
Thinking back to that time in my life, I recall four memories related to my former step-father.

//Memory One\\

I was at the dinner table (sitting on top of two phone books so I could reach the table :3). My brother and I were expected to ask someone to pass the food when we needed it or give a summary of our day. I never could get my voice above a whisper when he'd ask me about my day. I never could say his name outright, "Steven." I could only whisper his name.

//Memory Two\\

One night, Mom knelt in front of me in the living room and asked me why I didn't like Steven. I replied, "He smells weird and I don't like his hand." A brown recluse spider bit Steven's hand, forever leaving it deformed. I never liked his cologne--he never smelled like Dad. Dad's cologne was the way a dad is supposed to smell like. Old Spice. :]

//Memory Three\\

*This is super creepy--you can skip if you want*

It was Thanksgiving and we went to Hometown Buffet for dinner. Mom and my brother piled out of the car, leaving me behind with Steven. I was so hungry--I just wanted to get out and eat. I unbuckled my seat belt and went to open my car door. Steven asked me to stay in for just a second. I did and then he said that there were some dog biscuits on the floor of the car--if I was so hungry, I should eat a dog biscuit. You know, to show him how hungry I was. I took a bite of one and then spit it back out. He let me out of the car and we went into the restaurant.

Memory Four:

//MY HARDEST EXPERIENCE\\

All I remember is being woken up in the middle of the night by lots of shouting. Mom and Steven were in a fight in the kitchen. Mom was also 8 or so months pregnant with Julie at the time. Jim woke up and I told him to be quiet and then snuck out of our room. Jim followed. We crawled underneath Julie's soon-to-be-crib and then peered inside the kitchen. I saw Steven yell at Mom. I saw him hit her face. I saw Mom cry. I saw him punch her pregnant stomach. I saw my mom fall. I saw him kick her stomach. I saw him pick her up and throw her. I saw Mom land. I couldn't stand it--but I had no idea what to do. I was only seven. Steven left. Mom tried calling for help, but Steven cut the phone lines. Eventually, Mom, Jim, and I got to a shelter and stayed there for a few days. During that time, Steven got into the house and poured battery acid all throughout our living and dining room--ruining the carpet. It was like a constant reminder that he was still there even though he'd left. I hated seeing the holes in our carpet. I hated what he did to our family. And I hated that someone so horrible would be privileged enough to call himself a "father." 

I'm not writing these memories solely for "pity" or for "vengeance." haha I've learned to forgive. But I haven't forgotten...I don't think I ever could. Forgiveness means different things to different people--I bet some see it as a weakness, especially in a case such as mine. I don't know what you're thinking after reading this, but please don't think differently of me. It's taken a lot out of me to write this--I just hope you'll see what I've written as an honest reply to a simple question: What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?

30 Things