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I think the first time that I ever heard that phrase was when I first saw the movie Newsies. After that, I always wanted to be a newsie so that I could yell that phrase and get people to listen too. It's sort of empowering.

...as your boss. Talk in stupid voices with her, make delicious food, meet all her friends and cause them to wonder about both of your sanity levels, live up Chicago life, and sleep in a really, really good bed for more than two nights.

I stand by this. I can't say it nearly as eloquently or convincingly as Elder Holland can, but I can tell you that I know it's true too.

This semester has been one of the hardest I've had since being at college, and for several weeks, I have felt like I had been trying to swim and/or tread water...without ever taking a breath. I've been figuratively holding my breath...and with the end of the semester and moving out, I finally surfaced on Wednesday night as I drove home in torrential rain.

So I haven't blogged because I've been sleeping, reading, exercising, family-ing...oh, and planning our family trip to England. :) I haven't been able to write a whole lot because I feel so intellectually and emotionally fried. Especially having left these beautiful women:

I'll probably return to the blogging world in another day or two. Meanwhile, I'm just enjoying the air above water.

There is this blog that I follow, called theapronstage.com. I love it--the posts are generally not too long, whimsical, well-written, funny and/or meaningful without saying too much, and always clever. Lots of people follow it, and it's often as fun to read everyone's comments as it is to read the posts themselves, because it attracts a talented, educated, Christian (especially LDS) audience, and everyone is so insightful and good at what they do. On Fridays, they have a guest post, and this week, they decided to use one of my previously written posts. 

My smart and good-writer-ly/good-dress-er-ly friend Julie posted on her blog today about one of my favorite things about springtime. My dad used to say that you can always tell when spring is near, because the forsythias are the first thing to bloom. As soon as I see them start (generally in the second or third week of March), I begin to get excited, because it means that springtime-and-butterflies-and-flowers-and-rain-and-good-smelling-things are nearing.

I've learned a lot of life lessons from these guys.

Forsythia bushes have some of the yellowest yellow flowers I have ever seen. Against the backdrop of a whole lotta gray, they make a difference like you wouldn't believe.

But forsythias are really brave little guys too. I also know every year, when I see them start to bloom, that it will snow a few more times before they're done...but they do it anyway, every single time. And they beam, brightly brightly through the wet, freezing snow, in spite of themselves.

And when they're finishing up, which is what they're beginning to do now, their goldenness melts into green--not anything too ostentatious. Just a soft, pale, kindly sort of green. Kind of like the background of this blog. The forsythias leave just enough of a hint of the gold blazing against gray there within the green to remind themselves of what they can become, but their day is over, for now. Their job was to lead out--to remind the world of the glory it can become, just when it was beginning to think it was too gray to do it. They last just long enough to give all the other flowers the courage to begin blossoming...and then they pass the baton and stay in the background, a foundation of quiet strength for the other flowers, all the while reminding them to follow their example and be bold in their bloom.

But after their time, they're happy to retire to simply being green, a backdrop for the other flowers to let them shine.


I'd like to be a forsythia.

...till classes are over, I am writing research papers. And no matter where I look and how much I read, I feel like I'm always searching for the "right" book. I keep trying and trying...when really, I just need to get writing.

And this is a little bit what I feel like.