Maybe Laughter IS the Best Medicine

Almost 2 weeks ago I was going throughout my day and suddenly, out of nowhere my back started hurting (more specifically my upper back started having painful spasms). I had an orchestra rehearsal that night that I needed to go to, so I went. About halfway through the rehearsal my back was hurting so badly I couldn't play anymore. I couldn't figure out why it was hurting so badly. I figured I must've pulled something while doing my Turbo Jam workout 2 days before (2 days before with no previous signs of any problems...suspicious??? YES). Anyways. I'm not very tolerant of pain. Especially when it hurts to do one of my main jobs. Every time I open at 5 Buck I have to fill a 5 gallon bucket with flour and other ingredients and make a batch of dough. I have to lift the finished (heavy) dough from ground level to a table close by. I get to do this 2-3 times every day. I also get to lift containers with 10 or more complete pizzas multiple times a day as well. It's not a good feeling.
Anyways. A week ago I decided that I wasn't going to mess around with this. Nothing ever really cured the pain. So, I was referred to a chiropractor's office about a month ago on a previously unrelated subject. I still had the card and decided to call and see what would happen. The first appointment was a free scan. The scan revealed that a lot of the nerves in my back are not in a good position (pictured above...any line that isn't green is bad...I'm on the right). When the doc had me stand for a posture test, he instantly asked if I had ever been diagnosed with scoliosis. I said no. He proceeded to point out that my shoulders were not the same height and neither were my hips. So, we decided to get an x-ray. In the process of taking the x-ray, he also asked if I had ever been diagnosed with TMJ. That scares me more than scoliosis. Anyways. The x-rays were taken and I had my follow up appointment this morning.
I was taking ibuprofen all weekend for my monthly installment of pain so my back pain was definitely lessened. But, as soon as I stopped the pain meds, the pain came back. The weekend wasn't horrible, but it wasn't comfortable. I hate taking pain meds (especially a lot of them). So, I've chosen to just deal with it. Anyways...
Today I met with the other doc. I didn't need him to tell me that I had scoliosis once I saw the x-ray. So I officially have scoliosis. It's not a huge deal. Really. Thousands of people have it and have perfectly normal lives. It just so happens that mine is getting to the point that it's causing problems. Another thing he pointed out to me is the starting of some bone spurs in my neck. If you look at a picture/x-ray of a normal neck, it has a curve to it. Mine doesn't. He thought I had been in an accident...which I haven't. I hurt my neck a long time ago when I was in tumbling going into a back bend from a standing position for the first time (my hands didn't know what to do so my head and neck broke my downward motion). I had to have been in 4th grade when that happened. I also hit my head on the diving board in 6th grade while doing a back-flip. They mentioned something about an S-shaped spine at that time, but nothing more was ever said about it.
So, who knows why my neck is so screwed up. And, who knows how long I've been living with an S-shaped spine. All I know is that now it is causing some serious problems. The spasms in my back are painful. It's hard to sit for long periods of time, it's hard to turn around, it's hard to do anything really without some sort of twinge or other painful outcome.
After getting an official diagnosis on my crumbling spine (over-exaggeration). I was sent to get my muscles relaxed so I could be popped. That was the weirdest sensation I've ever felt. Electro-shock therapy is quite the invention. The doc then used a handheld massager to further loosen up my ever so tight muscles. He made my back and neck pop a few times (WHO KNEW MY NECK COULD DO THAT?!?!?!), rubbed some menthol stuff on my neck and sent me on my merry little way.
I felt so good. My back barely hurt and I felt taller. By the time I got to work (about 10-15 minutes later), the pain was back. And...not only was it back, but it was worse. Sitting an hour at the piano was almost torture. Thank heavens for those sweet little girls that I get to watch dance. They always put a smile on my face.
So, the day was not comfortable for me at all. My neck and back have been popping with every movement almost. I'm not sure if that's a good thing.
So, I went home, rested... (I understand now why people with back pain like to lie in bed all day) then went back to work. Came home, and a couple of hours later I went to institute. Came home from institute and my roommate's boyfriend entered. He's a nice guy, just so you know. Haven't found a thing wrong with him yet. :) Anyways. He offered to give me a massage. The next thing I knew, I was giving another roommate a massage afterwards. Then, she gave me one in return. I was in HEAVEN. I haven't felt that relaxed in months! So, I just collapsed on the couch. My back started hurting almost instantly. Then, out of nowhere I started laughing.  I haven't laughed that hard ever. Tears were rolling out of my eyes and I was almost ready to break down in a real sob after a few minutes of laughing out of control like that. My eyes still burn actually. I finally got up and noticed my back didn't hurt. Seriously. The therapy I had received this morning, the double massages gave me a very short-lived relief. This outrageous laughter kept me from hurting for about a half hour or so. It was WONDERFUL! As I sit here typing about it, I don't know if I can stay much longer since I'm hurting pretty badly. But, at least I know that laughter really is the best medicine. Who knew?!

Brokenhearted???

So, today I had that ill-fated 'just friends' conversation with someone.
I was the one that started it because I was confused after a more than casual time we had together over a week ago. We had originally agreed that he wasn't dating for anything other than friendship. I made it clear that I was in no position to be in anything serious. So, why is it that as soon as we went our own ways that I felt horribly crushed?
I was more than ok with the thought of being just friends with him. He flirted with my roommate right in front of me (and her date). Why do I feel this way? Is it possible that I actually liked him more than I thought? Or, is it just like every other time where I feel like I'll never get close enough to something real and this was once again shoving it in my face? Ah...
Anyways.
That's all for now.
Yay for being single :)

Just Friends

I always have the perfect blog planned out in my mind and then I get to this screen and my mind goes blank. Fail.
My life has been on the most extreme roller coaster as of yet. I will be talking about people in this. If you happen to read this and know that it's you I'm talking about, deal with it. I need to vent, and really don't know who to talk to. Sometimes writing things out is the best therapy, but knowing that no one will be able to see it makes it feel useless. Therefore I am posting it to this blog. I think I have a couple of readers...so, yeah. Enjoy...or whatever. You really don't need to read this unless you want to hear me complain. (Something I do a lot apparently)

So, I'm not even sure where to begin.

The biggest thing on my mind right now is a guy (shocker) and those 2 words that haunt every possible relationship known to mankind. "Just friends." What a way to kill any possible excitement for me. Last week I came to the conclusion that I never wanted to get married. This was more than just giving up. It was a full reversal on the idea. Last week I started looking at my life in a way that I knew I was going to be living alone and providing for only myself (and maybe some cats and/or dogs). I guess when you get too far off 'the path' something will happen in your life to make you realize it and you get pulled back into the whole mess that is the single life wanting to not be single.

So, a couple of weeks prior to this I received an instant message from an old friend/past date-ee that I haven't really heard from since August. If you read my blog, you will probably remember my account of going to Logan, dancing in the street, holding hands, etc. Well, folks...he has returned. Sort of. I think if my life were ever to be a movie or have a movie character in it, this guy would be IT. He is my movie life. Maybe that's why I find it so hard to believe most of the time. Anyways. We shall call him Logan. Just for the sake of not calling him by his real name...I have to feel like I'm trying to be discrete. HA...
Anyways.
So, as I was saying. I received an instant message from him. He has moved and now lives (in a round about way) a couple blocks away. Suddenly, he's back in my life. He started talking to me online almost every night. We decided to 'hang out' (those evil words make me shudder sometimes) at the duck pond last weekend. We had a wonderful walk around the pond and campus. There is something about this guy that I don't quite get, but I like it. Every time we talk it turns into important conversations. I'm not sure how and why, but it happens almost every time. Like I said, I don't quite get it. But, with some recent events in my life, it's just what I needed...and then some. I had a great time. I'm not sure what he was thinking. Online talking has continued...for the most part. Then, Tuesday we went to the same institute class. Another friend of mine had been trying to get me to go to the same class, but I was avoiding it to a certain extent...there are many reasons why, but that's not important right now. So, after him inviting me to go...I figured I should just go. I'm sure the Lord needed me to go that night (about 99.999999% sure on that one). Anyways. I sat with my other friend. I didn't know what to do. Anyways...where am I going with this???
He and I had the conversation that he was only dating for friends and I wasn't in any position to deal with a relationship right now. Well...that may have been true when I said it. But, it isn't anymore. I forgot what it's like to have a guy in my life.
There is another guy that I dated for a very short time that I still see on a weekly basis. The more and more I interact with him, the more I really like him. It has been hard to fight those feelings, since well...I just can't like him right now (among other things, I'm pretty sure he's not terribly interested in me anymore). I also recently ventured into the online dating world. Started emailing and eventually texting a guy that lives in San Diego. He NEVER once tried to call me. At that time, it was perfect. I just needed to have someone to talk to...(preferably a guy, because honestly, I'm just tired of 'girl' friends...and I really do prefer texting, sadly enough). So, I was ok with it. That stopped a couple of weeks ago...I'm not worried about it. It was never very real to me. So....with all this...I guess the right thing for me has been what has been. I had the San Diego conversations, and I had the past date-ee to flirt with once and awhile to get it out of my system. I thought I was fine. I didn't need anyone in my life. I was FINE!
Then Logan started back up. I'm still not sure how serious I would want to be with him due to too many different reasons. But, we have conversations that I crave to have in my life. He's been a good friend to me. And it's too hard for me to hold on and be 'just friends.' I have to keep reminding myself that every time I think about him. I was FINE. Why did I have to be reminded that I like the male version of our species and that I really do want to get married??? I was so much better off being happy as a single person.
WHYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!
I need a corner to go cry in.
The end.

Impromptu

Any time I hear one of the 4 Impromptus written by Schubert (Op. 90) I feel inspired. Actually, to say that I feel inspired is to put it mildly. I feel my heart leaping out of my chest. I feel my mind thinking of the notes. I feel my body move with the music. My fingers ache to be playing the piano when I hear any of those pieces. My soul yearns to be creating that music.
I don't know why these pieces have such a particular pull on my heart. Maybe it's because I can play them in some form or another. The second Impromptu was a song I actually tried to learn on my own during high school. I had the first page memorized, but it never went beyond that. It's hard music, but it's music I can actually play (well...I'm not so sure about the 4th Impromptu...that one is a little beyond my abilities at the moment). I wish I could explain what I'm feeling right now. I think my biggest regret in life is not doing more with the one true gift I have been given in this life. I gave up on piano in 7th grade. After hearing some new age music by Jon Schmidt, I feel in love with playing the piano again. In high school I learned a piano piece almost every year for the solo and ensemble festival. After 2 horrific experiences of forgetting the last page while performing (2 separate years), I gave up. I knew I could never be the pianist I thought I would be. So, I focused on clarinet. It was worth it for the experiences I've had with that instrument and I hope I never stop playing. But, my one true love has always been the piano. I get asked to accompany time and time again for small musical numbers and so on. I always feel so inadequate since my technical abilities reached their peak in 7th grade when I starting taking from a professor at BYU. I wish I could do more. There are so many more able players out there that I always feel unworthy of accompanying such wonderful musicians. But, even so, with any mistakes I make, I always enjoy doing it. It is not uncommon for me to be complimented on my playing (as an accompanist...something I'm not sure is done very often). So, after so many compliments and being told that I have a gift...is it a wonder that I feel like I need to do something about this and start over? I hope my saying that I have a gift doesn't come out snooty or pompous or anything like that. I really don't know what I sound like when I play. I know what people tell me. If a highly respected piano professor (Dr. Vanderbeek at WSU) tells you you have a gift, you probably want to believe it. :) If I had a piano right now, I would probably be pounding at the keys to my soul's delight. When I was at home, I would play all the time and play what fit my mood. Music was my therapy. I didn't know what stress was until I got to college...and I think my lack of being able to cope with it was due to me not being able to play whenever I needed to.
Anyways.
What I'm trying to say at this very moment (as I'm listening to those Impromptus), is this:
My life has felt so dead lately. I feel like I'm in the deepest, darkest hole possible. I don't see a light at the end of the tunnel and I have no sense of direction. I have had no idea what I want to do with my life and I have no idea how to get myself out of this hole. Things have happened in my life this past week that have led me to this conclusion. I want to take piano lessons again. I want to audition for the piano program at Weber. I want to go back to school. And, I want to get a degree in piano pedagogy. I want to perform at Concerto Night. I want to accomplish something in my life that I'll be proud of (Yes, playing first chair at a concert in Carnegie Hall is impressive and fun to brag about, but I really never felt any heart in that performance). I am very much like my mother. My mom got a degree in piano pedagogy at BYU. I love her dearly and as a child always wanted to do what she did when I grew up. It wasn't a matter of thinking I would. I just assumed I would. So, in an impromptu way, I think I will be signing up for piano lessons this week and taking that first step in my life towards a dream I'm daring to dream. The first dream I've ever really had. I want to share my soul with the world. I share myself best through music. Piano has always been my better instrument.
Wish me luck, pray for me and...please, PLEASE don't let me give up. :)

Dear Stress,

I know it's been a long time since we've spent quality time together, so it comes as no surprise that you would come screaming back to me so suddenly. I had almost forgotten how I feel when you are around.
First came word that my Grandma was dying. You were there to greet me with a smile. I thought I could handle your visit. But, then everything else starting piling on (needing to prepare and record a clarinet audition, needing to practice piano music I will never be able to play, etc) and now you've out-stayed your welcome.
My Grandma has passed. My PMS is worse than ever and this weekend looks like hell to be honest. Are you being friendly and letting me just live my life? Of course not. You have to make me cry at the drop of a dime, make my eyes constantly burn (even when employing the use of eye drops), my shoulders feel like they are higher than a kite, my stomach is in knots, I have to constantly take deep breaths so I don't have a panic attack, and I have no desire to talk to anyone. I know I usually grow a little bit once you're gone, but this time I don't see the purpose. You've got me eating the worst food available calling it 'therapy', sleeping in and being more lethargic than ever. My pants are already tighter than they have ever been. Why must you think it's funny to make them tight enough that I'll have to buy more with money I don't have?
You my think it's fun and oh so delightful to put me through a living hell again, but I have responsibilities that I CANNOT ignore. I can't afford to take a day off, nor is it really possible anyways. So, if you please...I beg you to leave. I have work, a concert, work, a funeral and more work to worry about...and then I get to sing all day on Sunday. That is usually a delight, but past experience tells me if you stick around until then, I might end up collapsing. You've done it to me before, I BEG you...please don't do it again.

Sincerely,
Heather

Bread and Sewing

These are the 2 things that I will remember most about my Grandma Carlson. As a little child, once a month, my parents would take me and my little brother to my grandparents' house for the weekend. My parents would go to the temple while my brother and I had time with GM & GPC (as we have come to call them), we would spend the night in the scary basement (scary to me...spiders, pipes, creaking floorboards...you name it, I was scared of it) and after lunch...sometimes dinner, we would drive back home just in time to get ready for bed. As we got older and my dad's health problems prevented them from going as often, these trips stopped. Once I got to high school, we pretty much only made trips for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
If I have one real regret in my life, it's not getting to see my grandparents (and extended family for that matter) more often. I have family in Missouri that I never see (I was about 14 or 15 last time we were there...something I hope can be fixed soon). Anyways, this isn't about my regrets now.
My dear sweet Grandma Carlson has been succumbing to Alzheimer's disease for the past few years (if not more). I got a text from my mom last week that she's really starting to go downhill now. So, I decided to make a trip to see GM & GPC last Sunday. I'm so glad I did. I've had the feeling that I needed to go see them for awhile now. I only wish I had acted on it sooner and possibly more than once. It's been a long time since she's known who I am. But, that doesn't mean that I couldn't be of any worth to her. When I got to their house, she was sitting in her recliner (oh how I loved her recliner...she has a pink one, Grandpa has a blue one) asleep. Their Relief Society president was there. The first impression I got was that their ward is taking very good care of them. Let's face it, my grandpa just can't do everything necessary to take care of her anymore. They have a nurse coming in on a regular basis as well. (I now have a greater deal of respect for CNAs and RNs...when you're on the other side seeing someone you love being cared for, it really means something). I played a couple of hymn arrangements for them. Grandma softly uttered "I like the music." She's in there somewhere...barely. I had a great afternoon talking family history with my grandpa. I got to know him a little better. I really wish I had had a video camera or voice recorder at that time. He told me more about how he was in the war and where he went...he went to Germany and the Philippines (Japan, too, I think).I learned more about where our family comes from. I have Swedish and Italian ancestors, cool, right? :)
But most importantly, I got to see how my grandpa feels about his 'sweetheart.' I've never seen him come close to crying, ever (at least that I can remember). When he started reading a copy of the letter his future in-laws wrote to him about him joining their family, he had to hand over the paper with it and I had to finish reading it because he was so choked up. My grandparents met in Virginia (if I remember correctly). I believe she was on a mission....or he was...I can't remember which one. Their story is really awesome. They had known each other long enough and well enough that he proposed to her after their first date. I always want to laugh at stories like that, but seeing as how it worked for them, I'm starting to think there's really nothing to laugh at. Rather, I'm grateful. I don't know how much longer my Grandma will be alive. We're guessing Christmas may not happen for her. After having gone through Tanner's funeral a couple of years ago, I just can't bare the thought of going through anything like that again. But, I'm grateful that I have time to prepare. Honestly, my Grandma has already been gone for a few years and her body is just barely hanging on.
So, on to the title.
Every morning I would wake up at their house, I would wake up to the sound of the wheat grinder. Grandma made THE BEST bread in the world. She would bake it in cylindrical cans, so the bread came out circle in shape. We would always have granola (although I could never bring myself to eat it) or Cheerios, and toast and honey. I blame my current love of toast and honey on this childhood memory. It's a comfort food really. My grandma sewed and quilted a lot. The quilt on my bead right now was actually my dad's old quilt, which she recovered and tied for me when I was in elementary school. I thought I wanted to replace it...now I'm not so sure...maybe i'll just leave it like that for my own children (if that ever happens). I'm pretty sure she made the dress I wore after my baptism (it was either her or my aunt Janeen...but I'm pretty sure it was her). I loved going in her sewing room and looking at her machines. She always had flowers hanging in the window (Christmas Cactus is one I remember liking a lot). In one of the closets in that room was the box of crayons my brother and I would use to color with.
I loved playing games with Grandpa. Othello and Checkers were fun ones. But, there was one game that I still to this day don't know what happened to it. It was called Situation 4. It was a game that involved racing to put together your side of the board (it was a puzzle) and building an army or something like that. I would play alone against my grandpa and brother as a team. I always won. So, even after some adjustments were made (no-no pieces being the main one), I still won...Grandma didn't like that too much. So, she hid the game.
Lunch involved more of Grandma's wonderful bread. Cottage cheese is also a love of mine because of these lunches. Once the sun room was built, we would eat in there. It was always such a wonderful time. Oh how I miss it. Later on, Grandma decided to learn to play the piano, so they got a piano. They even had an organ. Oh how I loved to play around with the different sounds and accompanying rhythms on that organ.

As you can see, I have a lot of fond memories as a child with my Grandparents. Once I get to high school, the memories don't really exist. What I remember of my Grandma I love. I will miss her immensely once she passes on. She's really the only Grandma I've ever known. (Not to discredit my family in Missouri, but when you see a person a grand total of 4 times (once as a baby, once as a 5-year old, once as a 7-year old for my Grandpa's funeral and then again as a freshman in high school), it really makes a difference.
The best thing I've learned from this situation is that I should never take my family for granted. By the time I realized what I was missing out on, it was too late for her. I will soon only have 2 grandparents alive...my Grandma in Missouri and my Grandpa here in Utah. If you are reading this, please don't make the same mistake I made. Regardless of drama and problems, your family is your family. I'm so grateful for mine and I hope I can get to know mine better (not sure how yet...I hate flying, so the ones that aren't close by are going to pose a problem...but we'll see). :)
Grandma...I love you, I'll miss you, and I will be happy to see you again someday.  

Drama...oh Mama!

So...I'm not sure where to begin...I'm still fending off roaring laughter. There has been a problem with people not cleaning up after themselves ever since I moved in. I hate it. I've been irritated by it constantly. I've made my share of notes, comments and so on about it. No one changes for nagging roommates. It's true! I dare you to prove me wrong. I've just made it a personal goal to take care of myself and not worry about anyone else. It's selfish yes, but at least I know I'm not the one leaving dishes in the sink, junk on the floor and so on.  The new roommates have been convinced that the dishwasher doesn't clean the dishes. So, there is a stack of hand washed dishes on the counter every day or so. I come from a situation where you have to pretty much just wash the dishes before they go in the washer. It's just a fact of life when you live in a cheap or government-funded institution. Hand washing does save on power bills (supposedly) and it's fast when you need something right then and there. But, there is the sponge factor. It has been proven more than once that the kitchen sponge or rag holds more bacteria, viruses, and other gunk than even a toilet seat. I'm not going to eat off of something washed with that. I have slight germ-o-phobic tendencies...so I like the hot dishwasher part. 

Ok....so, we now have new roommates that are young, and just don't get it. This picture is the latest. I saw it and had to run to my room to laugh. I later went out and took a picture of it, because it's just that funny. When I went to take it, I said "I want to remember this." The girls in the room just looked at me with the look that makes you want to run away and hide. But, instead I just wanted to laugh more. I'm working on moving out as soon as possible. I need my own room and I want to live with older people that don't have immaturity issues with the dishes. I know who isn't cleaning up after themselves and she happens to share my room with me. I'm so done with this. It's time to move into my own place and get a cat and/or dog to cope with the loneliness factor.