Author: Sierra

Novels and Noodles

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My mom, my working mother, my corporate powerhouse mother, spent a lot of money and spent even more hours on my childhood hobbies. She frequented the sweaty YMCA while I “played volleyball,” and massacred basketball. She sat through one too many poorly rehearsed renditions of Easy Note “Just Breath” in poorly executed piano recitals. My mom carted me to singing groups and dropped me off at school extra early so I could learn Spanish and practice the Oboe. If I wanted to be well rounded, well, darnit, she was going to see to it that I was.

But the key part of the above sentence is:

“If I wanted to be.” 

Dusting Off the Typewriter

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Someone recently said to me, “Sierra, do you still blog? I miss your words.” And it took me a minute to respond, because if my answer was truthful, my answer was no, I don’t still blog. Something happened to my blog psyche this year.
My words, well, they’ve been here all along, but they just got stuck somewhere in transit. I’m not sure if the words were busy or just intimidated, maybe a little of both, but they’re back now. I missed my words too, or at least, I missed the saying of them.

An Insight into Anxiety

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I wouldn’t ordinarily blog about this so candidly, except that I love the candid and real people out there. I love the people that share without asking for pity. I love the people that post pictures of their perfect little cupcakes one week, and then their disaster of a house the week after that. So in an effort to be relatable and, frankly, for a little catharsis, I give you….

“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”

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Ordinarily, this post might include a shame-faced apology for not blogging in so long. But there has been nothing ordinary about this past year, so the usual excuses of laziness or busyness just don’t apply. For once in my life, the most cathartic thing in my life has been–not writing–but in fact, teaching. So I can’t apologize for throwing all my efforts into that, and becoming the somewhat invisible thing that this blog is trying to catch. 

 

I Suppose I’d Better… Catch ‘Em All…

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As I learn them, I like to share The Secrets to Marriage that accumulate in my marriage arsenal. Most recently I have discovered that whenever Spouse A comes up with a crazy idea, Spouse B’s job is to enthusiastically validate said “crazy idea” while secretly hoping that Spouse A will forget about it in time.

Jeremy does it to me too. Several weeks ago I told him I wanted to be an animal trainer for the movies. I know he was secretly hoping I’d forget that dream and move on. Either that, or he came up with a different solution for me to train “animals,” and his newest crazy idea has all been part of a plot to secretly and inadvertantly make my dreams come true.

Jeremy’s latest dream?

Why I Am Going To Die of a Heart Attack.

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Excuse me, I know this is sooo Utah of me, but if I could dip the world in Ranch dressing, I would. I love Ranch Dressing. 

I wasn’t raised on the stuff. Ranch, like Lucky Charms or Hamburger Helper, never made it into our family grocery cart when I was growing up. In fact, I grew up snubbing Ranch.

Nose upturned, I would order at restaurants in my “Daughters of the American Revolution” voice. “I’ll have It-ah-lian, please.”