I feel

dreams torn in pieces and reassembled

surprise after surprise

wait! this was not what life should have been like

I had different plans

who knew that I would find

Creativity

who knew that I would find

Marriage

and Love.

who knew that I would end up working in a law office in the middle of town with lots of snow?

well, I sure didn’t.

Yet:

when I look back to my dreams

I didn’t have it all planned out

I didn’t know all the details.

so it makes sense that life surprised me.

I see myself so different than I did before:

I can do more

and less

More: because I understand myself better

Less: because I am not as naive about the world

but mostly more,

because as I understand the world

I see how to conquer it in my own way.

bring it on, life.

I know someday, you will tear apart my dreams again

but reassemble them into

something better.

Dillon in a pink tie

(As an update: the IRS rejected my return! Yeah! I had neglected to put in the previous year’s tax information. Refiled correctly. It’s a good day.)

Last Sunday, Dillon decided to try on his camouflage that he got for his birthday. He got so excited, he didn’t take off his shirt and tie.

This is why I married him.

Guess who filed their taxes wrong?

I did! It was 100% not my fault: I was on H&R Block online, filling in my information, and they ended up counting rent towards an education credit when it clearly says in the instructions of that form that rent isn’t eligible. All I did was enter in the amount I paid for rent under the question that asked for the amount I paid for rent. Imagine that.

Then my wonderful mom and sister (I think) caught the mistake after I had filed it. So, if the IRS accepts my return, then I will need to write them a check and fill out a wonderful 1040X form.

Was this a boring post? Because if it was, you were not properly acquainted with the last two hours I have had of major stressing out, talking to my Mom, crying, throwing my phone, talking to a Black guy from the deep South about my problems, and forgetting to each lunch.

But most of it was complete overreaction. Everything is okay. Life is good. Breathe.

I’m going to go eat lunch now.

Break-in

Due to a broken furnace and gas leak, I am at my wonderful sister’s house. And I love unsolicited guest blog posts.

So, my advice for the day is to make sure you have carbon monoxide detectors. Ours went off this morning. As noted previously, our furnace is broken. The guy’s CO detector went off a c0uple days ago…and they unplugged it and ignored it. NOT COOL. We did not do the same thing. My family left the apartment, and called the landlord. Much smarter.

So be smart, and do not ignore CO detectors. And make sure you have one.

Liz (Heather’s amazing twin sister)

Hawaiian Haystacks, Mexican Style

Prelude: You may not know what Hawaiian Haystacks are, which is understandable, because it is sort of a strange dish: rice, gravy, and whatever you have in you pantry and/or fridge piled on top, usually including pineapple, coconut, vegetables, cheese, and etc.

Story: Today, Dillon wanted enchiladas for dinner. Chicken enchiladas, to be precise, made with cream of chicken soup and green chilies.  The problem was, I didn’t have tortillas.

So, I substituted rice for the missing tortillas.

The recipe:

• Yellow rice
• Cream of chicken soup
• Chicken
• Green chillies
• Tomatoes
• Cheese
• Onions
• Salsa
• Sour Cream

Make yellow rice as directed. Make cream of chicken soup, but use only half of the liquid called for to make a more gravy-like consistency. Cut up chicken into small pieces and cook with season salt.

Put rice on plate. Cover with gravy, green chillies, tomatoes, chicken, cheese, and onions. Put salsa and sour cream on top to finish. Eat.

Note: The reason I am sharing this recipe is not because it is incredibly delicious (it’s all right), but because I wanted to show you what happens when you combine Hawaiian Haystacks with enchiladas and make a meal out of it.

Though Dillon says he did like it. He gave it a 3.2 out of 4, actually, which is pretty darn good. He never gives 4’s.

The Box

When I moved out, I had all of my paper stuff in a broken two-drawer filing cabinet. Since the filing cabinet was broken, I decided to throw it in the trash. Then I transferred all of my paper stuff into a large, clear plastic container with a lid.

This is a highly organized bunch of papers, mind you, separated into folders, binders, notebooks, and etc. I’ve spent hours and hours organizing it at different times of my life. Some of its chronological. Some of it is thematic. All of it is organized in some way, even if it isn’t sure which way that is.

And what does this box contain?

Notebooks full of lists. Notes from classes. Every single college paper I wrote, except a few I found worthless. A large rubber band full of notes and information about John Stuart Mill. The novel I started in junior high. Pages ripped out from notebooks. Copied essays hole punched and stuck into binders.

The box contains almost everything I’ve every written and almost everything I’ve ever learned about in school, from junior high on.

The box, in short, contains my life. Full breathing, and real–it’s all there, and it’s somewhat frightening to look through it because of how much of me there is scattered through the highly organized papers.

Villains

I watched Star Wars Saturday night (Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, to be specific).  My husband continually called me a nerd for my Star Wars knowledge (I’m really not that nerdy). But I was more focused on how the villains were portrayed.

Darth Vader and the Emperor are the pure evil sort of villains, for the most part. They don’t have a lot of qualities you sympathize with. That sort of thing. But more, they are leaders of a technologically advanced, highly organized and military group. Every time you see them, they are surrounded by very straight rows of uniforms.

The rebellion, on the other hand, never stand in rows. They break rules. They do things not according to plan. They really come across feeling like a small, ragtag bunch.

As I was watching, I could tell that Star Wars didn’t come out yesterday. Not because of the haircuts or the special effects, but because the villains were still stuck in the post-WWII Cold War, where people would be afraid of rows of uniforms.

My generation doesn’t fear such things. Villains degenerated from military to guerrilla and then to terrorist. Villains don’t come in neat and clean uniforms anymore. They aren’t technologically advanced or highly organized. If Star Wars was written today, I doubt the Empire would look the same.

But, even more, we’re not even really afraid of our villains–we’re more likely to complain about them, really, then to fear. Why is that? Why I am not scared of the people over across the ocean like people were before?

Perhaps because the villains used to have a similar culture.  They wore similar clothes.  They were advanced economically and technologically. The good guys and the bad guys fought with the same rules.

But now . . . now we can’t understand our villains. They are too different than us. We can’t see ourselves in them. And because they are so foreign, we are not afraid.

I seek to delete

My computer has given me a delete key. And a backspace key. Two different options to erase. Even my typewriter has an auto-delete key that carefully removes the black ribbon that was placed on the white paper and leave the paper clean again.

I write with a delete key. Every other sentence, every other word is deleted. Spelling is correct because I make it so. The first time through, it is not so. The first time through, there is word after word that does not make sense. But the words do not last–no, they do not last because I make them leave, harshly tell them to leave.

They were never there, you see. For with my delete key there is no record of them every being there, and there will never be.

I hide those documents that I cannot delete–and I cannot delete them because they were a part of me, and since I am built upon my past, they are still part of me. I hide those stories that I wish I would have never written. I hide those dark day entries. I hide.

No one knows when I delete. No one know when I hide–because I have not shared.  And even if I share once, I can delete the past and let it quickly fade from memories.

What if . . .

What if every word I wrote was permanent? What if I freed myself from the delete key, so that all the mistakes were there for people to see?

I do not think I could leave myself so visible. I do not think I could stand for everyone to see the whole of me: me without the delete key.

I am not brave enough to delete the delete key. I keep it me with me, always.

Rewriting

I remember in one of my classes someone asked me if I honestly thought I would publish a book. And I said back, with confidence, that I did. Now, there so many aspiring writers out there and such a hugely competitive market, I don’t know quite what gave me the the confidence to say that. But I said it, I meant it, and I still do.

I guess I have confidence in myself for a few reason: I have the gumption to write a novel, since I’ve written four. And I have the gumption to completely rewrite a novel.

I’ve deleted about a third of a book. I’ve added a completely new antagonist to a book. I’ve deleted semi-major characters. Most impressively, I’ve changed a book from third-person to first-person. And not only did I do that: I pretty much chucked the first draft while doing so and completely rewrote the whole book. Okay, I’m still in the process of rewriting that book. Not done yet. But working on it.

I change scenes, characters, setting, plot, point-of-view, etc., etc.

And, you know what, I LOVE rewriting. I love hacking all that bad stuff off of my novel and trying to make it good. I love adding new characters, changing major plot lines, and deciding to write do the whole thing over again.

It makes me all happy inside thinking about it.

But there is a good side and a bad side to this: the good side is that my novels get increasingly better. The bad side is that my novels never get finished.

But I’ll keep writing.

Cold

It’s cold outside when I am wandering around in the fog with two jackets on and kid gloves. The gloves aren’t warm enough–in fact, they isolate my fingers and make them go colder quicker.

Numb fingers now.

But yet, the camera must capture the frost on the trees; the fog; the cold. It keeps me going, even when the cold pushes up against my face and stifles me.

Someday, it won’t be winter anymore.

#

Something else on my mind:

I don’t have a lot of time now. Between work, school, and church, there just isn’t time to take off and do something. There are lots of things we would like to do–go snowshoeing, shoot our bows, visit family, etc.–but we can only do that on occasion.

But that’s all right. Because we do manage it on occasion. Because, I think, we will never, ever have more time. Life is ALWAYS busy. Schedules are always trick to arrange.

So I can’t hold off living until I have more time–I’ll never have more time. I only have the time I have now.

I’ll try to make the best out of it.

Word of the day: Apoptosis

This word has a very awkward pronunciation. But it’s from the Greek, meaning “falling off,” and is used in a classic Greek poem referring to leaves falling off a tree. My biology book didn’t like literature enough to mention the poem.

It means:

CELL SUICIDE!

Really. A cell starts to cut itself apart and disintegrate all on its own. This is to protect its neighbor cells, because if it didn’t cut itself apart, when it died, it would ooze out all its toxins and create havoc.

So, instead of havoc, it gradually fragments itself until disappears.

bleach

When opening a new bottle of bleach that can possibly splash all over, do not wear clothes you like. In fact, when coming close to anything that resembles bleach, do not wear clothes you like.

That is all.

ice skating

The first time I went ice skating, I fell a lot. I didn’t want to fall the second time.

The ice rank was built on a field of grass, and I saw them pouring the water out of the large brown hose with the lights pouring down on them, and I thought I should take a picture, but I didn’t.

Then I saw the skaters–one time, there were just two of them, skating together on the large field of ice, the lights pouring down on them.

In the foggy cold morning, as the sun barely rises, the ice rink is empty.

When I came, I was still scared of falling. My skates were put on nervously. I walked to the ice rink slowly. I stepped to the ice.

One boy stepped onto the ice and immediately fell over.

My husband had never been ice skating. It was one of his unwritten life goals. It’s no longer one of his unwritten life goals, since he’s been ice skating now.

My husband was not so nervous as me, so he pushed off and wobbled, and then made those short, trembling steps of a person who has no idea what he is doing. But five minutes later, he soared off and ended his movement with an elegant turn. Some people have better balance than I.

My ankles were weak, my steps were short. I had to tighten my skates.

I didn’t want to fall, so I was slow. My husband ended up on the other side of the rink.

I watched a woman who had been ice skating her whole life. It was effortless–so much less movement to go forward. She skated on one foot as if it were easier than two. She held her arms out and spun, not for long, for she felt a bit silly, but the rest of us thought she was beautiful. I think she was over fifty years old, and she was better than everyone younger than her.

I watched a man with hockey skates that was more concerned with speed and going backwards than beauty. After watching the woman, you could tell he wasn’t as good.

I pushed off again, trying to make my strides longer. Trying to make them float.

While I couldn’t ever turn very much, or stop very well, or go very fast, it was all right. Because at the end, I was a better skater than the hesitant couple who very gingerly made their slow way around the perimeter.

I didn’t fall.

Happy Birthday!

Dillon–

I love you!

Happy Birthday!

Trip to In-Laws

So I went to the small town of my husband the other day. We haven’t been there since hunting season (the six-hour drive is a little bit long for casual trips), and Dillon randomly had a few days off of work, so away we went.

I’m getting used to having in-laws. With my own family, I’ve known them my whole life (or their whole life, if they are younger than me), for the most part, and so I’m used to them. But I’ve only known my in-laws, my husband’s family, for about a year. They are new. And they felt a lot like people in my ward or friend–something like that.

I ended up playing with my nieces and nephews. I have quite a few of them, and I have to say, some of them really like me. I’m popular for the first time in my life. We were playing Sequence–well, not really Sequence, since everyone I was playing with was five or under. In fact, since most of the people there didn’t know how to read, I decided to invent a game. First, we put a card down and then put a tile on a place on the board that matched the color of the card. Then, we just put on the tiles on the board as quick as we could and I timed it. Then, we made little towers from the tiles. Then, I was out of ideas. So we played with dominoes.

I love my nieces and nephews. And I realized, as I was inventing games, these are not just by husband’s family, but my family. They aren’t going to leave. I’m going to see them grow up, go through school, get married, and have their own kids. I’ll never lose contact with them. They’ll always know who I am.

I’m a part of a whole new family–one that is very different from my own: different ages, different interest, different personalities, different backgrounds. And I love it.

2009 Recap

2009 was the year of change. Many, many changes. But most were good changes–no, most were amazingly wonderful changes.

2009 has been the most eventful year of my life. And I say that with certainty.

And now, without further ado, a list of some highlights of my 2009, in no particular order:

• Work:
  • Worked as an assistant for my grandparents (BEST JOB EVER).
  • Worked as a technical writer for an online furniture company (I learned a lot).
  • Worked as a legal secretary for a law firm (also BEST JOB EVER).
• School:
  • Graduated from University of Utah with two degrees in English and Philosophy with a 3.95 GPA, magna cum laude, etc., etc.
  • Once graduated, missed school a lot. Until I got used to working and found out that I really like working.
• Home:
  • Moved out of my parents house for the first time in my life.
  • Moved into my aunt’s house.
  • Moved into an apartment with my husband to a far away land 2 hours away.
• Church:
  • Went to the temple!!
  • Served as Relief Society president for 2 months
  • Called as Activity Committee co-chair with my husband
  • Called as Ward Organist (one of the callings I always wanted)
  • Began going to a student ward for the first time. After I graduated from school.
  • Started going to church in a new church building (previously, I have gone to same church building ever since I could remember).
• Hobbies:
  • Revived out of my Great Writing Slump that started in the 18-hour fall 2008 semester and started writing again on a regular basis.
  • Designed and put up my own personal website (typewriterheather.com), photography site, new photoblog, and new family history blog.
  • Learned a lot about hunting. And went with people so they could hunt.
  • Photographed my first wedding (for my sister).
  • Learned how to cook (still learning).
  • Learned how to shoot a compound bow. Even got my own bow.
• Family:
  • Have nieces and nephews for the first time. (And my twin sister had my first blood-related nephew, Peter.)
  • I have more in-laws too, both from my husband’s side and a new brother-in-law.
    (Who are also pretty awesome.)
• Other:
  • Changed my last name.
  • Met lots of new people.
  • Had a distance-relationship.

But the best thing  of 2009:  I GOT MARRIED!! To Dillon Hoyt, who is now my husband.

And that’s at least some of my crazy, wonderful year.  Oh, there were very hard times–when I was engaged was about the hardest, and right before I got my new job as a legal secretary was hard too. But I’m happy now, and I’ve learned a lot, and I feel like a much better person.

Christmas Recap

Best Christmas moments:

• Dillon hugging Inca Cola to his chest for five minutes as if some evil person was going to steal it from him.
• Getting socks. Striped socks. Because all socks should be striped.
• Watching the Nativity on Christmas Eve and feeling really Christmas-y for the first time this year.
• Shooting a recurve bow into a trash can full of leftover wrapping stuff.
• Eating Mom’s food again.
• Watching my brother play the banjo that he got. All day.
• Playing Jungle Speed.
• Playing a random game on the wii that features throwing cows and crazy rabbits.
• Being with all my family.

I loved everything I got, and felt utterly spoiled. But not just with stuff and things–more spoiled with happiness, family, laughter, and fun times.

Dads Recurve! Christmas!

This is Dillon!

Today is Christmas and I am super happy.  My dad bought a bear recurve bow about 30 years ago.  Around 1990 the string broke on it, and since then it has taken up space in my mothers attic.  Luckily she was nice and did not throw it away.  A few months ago after being married I decided to ask my dad for it, since nobody else wanted it.  It has been in my closet in Logan since then.  Today for Christmas my very awesome, and understanding wife got me a new bow string and a bearhair arrowrest (it is like felt) as a gift.  So all day we have been shooting it at my inlaws.  Between the five of us that have taken shots with  it we have fired about 60 shots. It is very old and has a crack in the handle, which I truly hope does not break any further.  I want to enjoy this toy for a while, and so far it has been great.

Also I want to thank Gerry J and Jill for the Monster Muley sweater that I am wearing and have been since I started opening gifts this morning!

I would also like to thank Heather for getting me INKA COLA, which is my favorite drink from Peru!

I love you Heather, and everyone else!

Great Christmas,

Dillon

Exercise

I’m using an archery target as my exercise step, and have no clue what the cha-cha step is in the midst of my cardio workout (I just move my feet around a bit and call it good). I don’t have the coordination to move my arms and my legs at the same time either.

I’m glad no one is here to see me. Though if they were, they would laugh. Hard.

Even though I lack coordination, strength, flexibility, and stamina, listening to the sappy exercise teacher makes me happy.

Dillon and Heather Hoyt Family Christmas Letter, Vol 1, Issue 1, 2009.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, a knight decided he was sick of slaying all the dragons and thought he would go find himself a princess. So he, in a very smart manner, joined a single’s ward in search of a beautiful princess who would steal his heart away.

His search didn’t last long, as the beautiful princess was very easy to spot. She was a little over six feet tall, after all. But because she was so tall (even taller than some of the dragons he had slain), the knight shrank back in fear. He knew she was beautiful and smart and everything he wanted in a princess. And he knew she liked him very much.  But when it came right down to it, the knight found killing dragons much easier than dating princesses.

But finally, after much cajoling by the princess, he asked for her hand, and they were married on June 19, 2009 in the beautiful Mount Timpanogos Temple.

This, of course, was not the happily ever after, but only the beginning of lots more adventures until the ending. The knight decided that he would get an education in a place where the cold climate was perfect training to studying dragonology (aka wildlife science). The princess accompanied her knight. They sought employ (like common peasants, but alas, it was necessary) and received it: the knight at Hobby Lobby, where he worked in the frame shop (secretly playing with glass and staple guns to find new ways to slay dragons), and the princess at an online furniture store, where she wrote furniture descriptions until she got so bored that she decided to enter a more courtly profession, and became a legal secretary. The knight did very well in his dragonology studies, receiving lots of gold stars on his report card.

But their employ and schooling was the boring part of their adventures: they roamed the woods, looking for scary monsters to attack. The princess learned how to shoot a bow so that she could aid her husband in his dragon-killing adventures. They slept in hammocks; climbed up mountains; and even tried to catch monsterious fish, though they were hard to come by. And there simply isn’t enough space to related their encounter with the heard of flying scorpions . . .

Marriage was happy–harder than expected, but happy, and yet the princess and the knight were about to meet their greatest foe: the Large Evil Dragon.

But you’ll have to wait and hear those adventures next year . . .