Castles in the Sky

Yesterday I met a woman who had everything I had ever wanted in life. She had a husband who was not only attractive (no, I was not checking him out, but a girl does notice these things) but thoughtful and playful. She had a few kids, all of whom were well behaved and beautiful, to boot. And she was so cute and fun and really just a great mom. I got to hold her 4 and a half month old baby girl for a very long time, and she had the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen and the most perfect lips. She was an absolutely beautiful baby and she smelled just like a perfect baby ought to. As I was holding her, the thought occured to me that had my life turned out differently, this could have been my life. I could have been the woman standing at the poolside chatting with friends holding her baby girl in her arms. Granted, I most likely would only have had the one, but still, holding that little girl in my arms, I could see it. I could see myself with the husband playing around with other kids in the pool while I held our beautiful baby girl in the shade, watching him with all the love in the world, shaking my head at his childish antics, wondering if I had married a boy or a man. I actually got teared up during all of this, wishing that it had been the way my life had gone. That little baby symoblized all I had ever wanted in life.
But my life isn't that way, and, though it pains me very much to admit it, that was not how it was supposed to be. My life is turning out just the way it is supposed to go, however that is. I may not like it now or understand it at this point, but the Lord works in mysterious ways, and it is not up to me to determine if it is right or wrong because He is in control. He knows what I want and what is best for me, and all I gotta say is He's never let me down before, so there must be a DANG good life waiting in the wings for me. I just gotta get there and not lose faith. I firmly believe that I will get all that I have been dreaming off since I was a little girl, complete with the handsome Prince Charming to sweep me off of my feet and dream of castles in the sky with me, and live happily ever after. I know that happily ever after is not something that just happens, but must be worked towards, and I am going to enjoy the adventure of the work.
But until then, I'll still remember with a bit of sadness what I saw yesterday of what I could have. I'll still get it, but that doesn't really stop me from wishing it could be sooner rather than later.

Giving

We had stake conference this weekend, and Elder Tiexiera [I THINK I spelled that right...] of the Seventy came to visit. He's from Frankfurt Germany but he seems to have lived just about everywhere. He told us this story about a man who lived with his family in Rwanda in the 70s. They were very wealthy and had a lot of possessions, but were very good people. One of the things that they had that was very important to them was a Mercedes Benz that they had picked out directly from the factory and they loved it very much. Anyway, a war started in Rwanda, and they needed to get out of the country. The fourteen year old daughter left fist, because the whole family could not travel together. They sent her to Portugal where they had a lot of family. The two sons left next, and then the wife. The man remained in Rwanda for a time to help the customers of his bank, to make sure that they would be taken care of. He had nearly everything taken from him. His massive collection of books was confiscated by the government. His money was absorbed into other funds. His house was foreclosed. He had nothing but money enough to leave and his Mercedes Benz. He met a friend of his on the road one day and asked how he was doing. The friend broke down into tears and told him how his mother was very ill and needed to go to hospital, but he couldn't get to her because he had no car, and they would never be able to leave the country on foot. This man reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys and handed them to his friend. "If there is any car that can get through the borders, it's this one. Take it." His friend thanked him profusely and left. The only thing this man still had and he GAVE it away. Years later, after he'd been reunited with his family and they had been living in Portugal for some time, he was walking along a port with his wife and on a ship docked there, they saw a car that resembled the one that they used to have. They went over to the captain, who told them they'd had the car for months just waiting for someone to claim it, but no one had. All they had was a note with a single name on it. It just so happened that it was this man's name, and it was this man's car. He opened the note and it read: "Dear [his name], This car saved my mother's life. I return it to you with a heart full of gratitude. Signed [his friend]." The only thing that he GAVE away was returned to him.
Elder Teixiera's message was this: what we give, we always recieve. And we recieve more than we ever give.
It was an amazing conference.

My name...

So I wonder a lot what people's names mean. Why are you named what you are?
As far as I know, my parents just liked my name. It was going to be Chris's name if he was a girl, and then it was going to be Timmy's name if he was a girl, but alas...
So there's no REASON for me to have my name. But through the help of babynames.com, I discovered some meanings.
Rebecca is a Hebrew name [like we didn't know that] and it means Snare. Intruiging and yet so ironic....
Lynne is English and it means From The Lake. Oooooooo....
And NOT thanks to babynames.com, I know the meaning of my last name. Connolly is Irish and it means courageous or valorous.
So. Snare From The Lake Courageous. Sounds like an Indian name. Hey, I like it! Which is a good thing, as it is a mite late to change it.
Now the REAL question is will my new last name when I eventually get married have just as cool of a meaning as my current one? What if it means Hairy Dog? That would totally ruin the effect of the sweetness of my name. What if it has more consonants than a mouth can handle and I have to spell it out every single day of my life 27 times? Last names are very important! Whenever I meet a semi-attractive guy, I tack his last name onto mine and see if it works. If it doesn't, he's out. Ok, maybe not TOTALLY out, but it is a definate strike. Imagine if my name became Becky Boomer. I mean, I would have to wear a paper bag on my head in public. If I have to subject myself to eternal humiliation based on my name alone, my husband had better be the most attractive man on the planet. Seriously...
I'm going to start praying for a good last name...or the most attractive man on the planet...
I'd prefer both.

Growing Up

I've come to the realization that no matter how hard I try to deny it, I have become one of the things that I used to want to be but now fear.

I have become.... an ADULT!! [cue really creepy dramatic music and screaming female]

Yes, shocking though it is, I can no longer deny it.

Let us face facts:

1) I have completed high school. Granted, this is not technically a sign of maturation, but it is a mark of progression.

2) I have graduated from college. A rather momentous occasion, and most people start their lives at this point.

3) I no longer live at home. Debatable mark of adulthood, as some people still live at home due to circumstances beyond their control.

4) I am over the age of 21. The most promising mark other than college graduation, as according to all legal matters except that of car rental, I am considered an adult. This also means that I can legally drink...whoopee.

5) I have travelled abroad on my own. Not quite a mark of adulthood, but certainly a mark of refinement.

So, according to the facts, I can establish that I am such. Unfortunately, my brain is not quite so convinced of my new status. Why just today I got into a slap war with Dallin [the high school freshman whose basement I live in] and I think I won. I still grumble in the early morning hours, I still sneak candy whenever I can, I whisper loudly in the movie theater, and I don't sit still in church. Am I a hopeless cause, or just a late bloomer?

And for your enjoyment, I'm now going to compare my younger years with my more mature [PHST!] years. Enjoy the pictures, and draw your own conclusions.

Notice the size of the mouth. Hasn't changed with respect to the rest of the face. At least I'm not drooling on Sarah.

I think there's a reason why this first picture was taken before we made anything, i.e., Becky 16 years later without the Tupperware mat.

So I still like dressing up. I'm a stylin' person, people! Only difference is the first one was for church, and the second one was for the Oscar's party we had...

Ah, yes...costumes. The first one is obviously Halloween. And the second...15 years later...is not.

So, as you can see, I haven't changed much. Whether or not that is a good thing is still up for debate. I may be an adult in the most technical sense, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it! And heaven forbid I ever become MATURE! Yelch!

And as a side note, none of these older pictures were taken with the younger ones in mind. I was just lucky enough to find these on my computer in the last 20 minutes.

So, AM I a grown up? Do tell.

From Afar...my novel

Prologue

If there is one thing to which young girls can—and do—aspire, it is being in love. They know it is rare to experience such a state, but are determined that they shall be one of the select few to turn out victorious.
Rebecca Dumate never thought about such things. That is, until he entered her life, and then she could think of nothing else. The paragon of perfection and his family moved into the elegant Benbridge estate, just three miles from her own home at Marshall Hall, when she was eleven. Over those three miles lay a lake as smooth as glass followed by rolling hills of lush green grass that led right up to her back door.
It was while she was standing on one of those hills that she caught her first glimpse of her new neighbors. Rebecca had just won yet another race against her three brothers and best friend Isabella Buchanan when she caught sight of the wagons and carts full of servants and luggage. All of the children ran into the house and informed anyone within a hearing distance (and a few that weren't) of the new arrivals. Mr. Dumate had left the very next morning to greet them, and returned with the delightful news that a Lord and Lady Birkham, their two sons, and a cousin Mr. Winters were now taking up residence.
Her brothers had been understandably excited as they had no playmates other than each other, and her elder sister Mary had blushed at her father’s suggestion that she become introduced to the cousin, who was apparently very handsome and in possession of an equally handsome fortune. Mr. Dumate further surprised them all with the information that the family would be dining with them the following evening at Marshall Hall.
The dinner proved to be a most advantageous event for both families. Mr. and Mrs. Dumate found Lord and Lady Birkham to be as pleasant and amiable as Mr. Dumate’s first impression had indicated. They were very well dressed; Lady Birkham had the air of fashion and rank, though with none of the pride and superiority that plagued many of her station. She was exquisitely beautiful, ageless and elegant, and delightfully witty. Lord Birkham was a more somber man, content to let his wife carry the conversations. He, too, had a ready smile, and it was evident that he adored his wife, and that his sons had a great respect and admiration for him.
The sons, Andrew and William, ages fifteen and thirteen, respectively, were very well-mannered boys, energetic and loud, but very respectful. Andrew’s manner was that of a playful nature, and his brother was just as lighthearted who delighted in following Andrew wherever he led. As luck would have it, the Birkham boys became fast friends with Edward and Henry, the younger two of Rebecca’s brothers, who were precisely the same ages.
The most pleasant introduction of the evening was, without a doubt, that of Mr. Winters to Miss Dumate. He was very handsome, and gave as much attention that a single young woman, and her overly anxious parents, could ever hope to receive. Mary, ever the lady, received his compliments with all politeness but could not escape the slight blush on her cheeks. During the course of the meal, little was said between them, but it was not unusual to catch one of them stealing a glance at the other.
Poor Rebecca, being the youngest of the party, found the whole of the meal somewhat dull with no one left to talk to. She did enjoy watching Mary who was behaving very strangely with all her stares and blushes and strove to hide her giggles in her napkin. This won her a look of disapproval from Frederick, her eldest brother, who knew precisely what she was witnessing. Afraid of being rude and of his scolding her, Rebecca immediately plastered a solemn look on her face until she saw Fred cast a wink and a small smile. She returned his smile, and continued her scan of the room.
Her eyes rested upon young Andrew Birkham, who was chatting animatedly with her brothers. She noticed his crooked grin, very straight teeth, and the way his hand was running absentmindedly over his dark curls. He was very different from her brothers, she thought. He was handsome and charming like the prince of her beloved fairy tales. He was a pure example of a gentleman, in her estimation. He would never tie her braids to her own bedpost and then run away laughing. Her scalp still ached from her brothers’ prank last week. No, he was perfect in every way, and she could only imagine how her heart would flutter when he flashed that crooked grin at her. She heard herself sigh, and, shocked by the sound, began to cover it up with a few coughs.
Edward looked at her strangely, his eyes questioning her, but she merely pointed to her throat and smiled. He laughed, and that, thankfully, was the end of it. She breathed a sigh of relief, inwardly this time, and focused once more on her food.
When the meal was completed, they were all to go to the drawing room for further conversation and the looming possibility of a musical recital. The children dreaded the long evening of sitting still and talking about dull subjects until Edward and Henry approached their father with a proposition. The boys asked if they--meaning the two Birkham’s, themselves, and Rebecca--could bring blankets outside so they might all gaze at the stars and find constellations. Mr. Dumate consented and called for Thomas to take the children outside.
Rebecca noticed that Frederick shot them a longing glance as they began to leave, knowing full well that at seventeen he was no longer considered a child, and therefore could not escape the adults. She smiled sympathetically at him, but only received a scowl in return. Making sure no one was looking, she stuck her tongue out and ran to catch up with the boys.
They all went to the large hill behind the house, set down their blankets, and laid upon them; Thomas standing nearby awaiting any order or request. Rebecca settled herself at the end of the line of blankets quickly and immediately began examining the clear night sky. The boys were talking amongst themselves about this star or that planet, leaving her to be silent and thoughtful.
“And what thoughts occupy your mind so completely, Miss Rebecca?”
She started as she realized that the person lying beside her was Andrew Birkham. Suddenly she felt slightly ill but realized that he was expecting an answer and so responded.
“I was trying to pick a star to wish upon,” she told him, half embarrassed and half breathless from having his presence only inches away.
Edward chortled, and Henry snickered quietly. “Don’t be such a girl, Rebecca.” Seeing the slightly hurt look on her face, he repented. “Come on, old chum. Help me find Cassiopeia before Henry does.”
Rebecca smiled in forgiveness and started searching for the constellation. After winning that race, they started again with other constellations until they had exhausted their memory of them. They started indoors again, but before going in, Andrew pulled Rebecca aside.
“Pick out your star, miss.”
She smiled, turned back, and found one, a bright blue in the southern sky. She pointed at it. “That one there.”
He leaned down close to see where she pointed and nodded thoughtfully. “Excellent choice,” he whispered in her ear. “Now, you must wish upon it whenever you can, and you must never tell the wish, otherwise it will not come true.”
Unable to summon her powers of speech, she nodded obediently. Henry called for them both, telling them to hurry. Andrew grinned and ran inside.
Rebecca was completely smitten from that moment on, and was absolutely certain that Andrew Birkham was perfect, her own prince charming. And she vowed there and then, upon that star, that somehow, she was going to win the race for his heart. And Rebecca Dumate never lost a race.

Starting Over.

I have not been very happy as of late. I've just moved to Cincinnati, and although I lived here in my childhood, it hardly resembles the same place. There are some familiar faces and places and things, but for the most part, it is changed. I have yet to meet any kids from the single's branch here, and so my social circle is limited to the Rahlf's [whom I love to death, mind you...] and the people in my Massage Therapy classes [I'm saving THAT rant for tomorrow...look for it.] So right now, this place is very very lonely for me. It's depressing, actually. I'm praying and reading my scriptures and such, so THAT part of me is ok, but sometimes the Spirit just isn't enough, you know?
It reminds me of a story I heard: There was this little boy who sometimes had problems in the night where he would wake up and cry because he was scared. His mother would come in and would tell him to pray and that Heavenly Father and the Spirit would make him feel better, and that he didn't need to call for her all the time. A few nights later, he called for her in the night again, and she came in and told him the same thing she had before. Her little boy looked up at her, with tears swimming in his big eyes, and said, "Mommy, don't you know? Sometimes you just need someone with skin on."
That's how I feel most of the time! The more I learn about touch in class, the more I wish that I had more exposure to it. That sounds weird, let me try to explain: I am the type of person that loves hugs. I will randomly go up to my mom or a friend and wrap my arms around them purely for the reason that I need that contact. I enjoy being close to people physically, and sometimes I just feel like I have to touch. It makes things more real to me, and I feel more comfortable when I can establish that I have access to it. But right now, I am starving for affectionate human contact. Granted, I get the impersonal professional touch of the students in massage class [which should be comforting, but it's not...again, watch for tomorrow's blog], but it's not the same.
ANYWAY, barring the lack of human contact, I felt that something was missing. So I started going through my writing again, and BOOM I had something to fill my endless hours. I thought I'd start to share some things with you on here. Not all of it, because then when I'm famous, no one would buy the book. And I don't want y'all to save this stuff and publish it under a new name! JERKS! Haha, jk. But I hope you'll bear with me as I begin to open up with my writing, which happens to express more of me than I ever thought it would. Advice on the writing [or anything else, for that matter] is welcome! I'll post it above this. Enjoy!

A Deeper Glimpse...A Darker Glimpse

This post has been deleted by the blogger, as it was a vain attempt to vent some very personal things and resulted in misunderstandings and concern rather than being seen for what it was meant to be. Sorry.

Oh the stories I have to tell...

No, I didn't die. No, I was not abducted by aliens. And no, I did not win 5 million dollars, move to a deserted island with a very attractive very single doctor, and completely enjoy forgetting about every single one of you. Fabulous, though that last sounds.

I have been INSANELY busy.

Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up: I have been packing for my move to Cincy, shopping for a fabulous outfit that I can wear this weekend to the wedding of some high school friends [ladies, you understand the pressure THAT puts on a girl...] and then Breaking Dawn came out. Oh, Breaking Dawn, how did I ever live without you? Anyway, I stayed up all night and read the entire thing [I read fast] and then I went to sleep about 7:45 Saturday morning. Here's where it gets fuzzy. so I'll speak in third person. Apparently, Becky got up about 11 and decided to go and take a shower. However, unbeknownst to  her, during her brief hours of sleep, her body pillow with the thick velvety case fell off of the bed and landed atop the only AC vent in her room. Now, for those of you who have not memorized everything about Becky's life, her room faces directly east and she has 2 windows. Therefore, it gets VERY warm in her room in the mornings. Thus, the thick body pillow with the velvety covering landing on the only source of cool air for the entire room rendered things a bit complicated. So, Becky, as she always does, sprang out of bed without a second thought and certainly no recovery for her head, and darted to the bathroom to cleanse herself. Upon reaching the bathroom, the heat of the room and the staying up all night caught up with her. She passed out and on her way to the floor, hit her head on either the toilet paper holder or the toilet itself, we aren't entirely sure, as no one saw her do it.

Now, her brave sister Jenny, hero of the day, was downstairs and heard the thump and, upon receiving no satisfactory audible response from Becky, ascended to the bathroom to ascertain the situation. She found Becky sitting up, feet propped against the door, making no sense. Thinking quickly and taking in Becky's pale and VERY sweaty state, she helped her undress and get into the bathtub, where she began to cool her off with cold water. Their mother arrived soon after and, upon hearing Becky repeat herself many MANY times, decided that a trip to the ER would be advisable.

After many hours, a catheter, a CT scan, blood tests, and waiting, the trusty staff of the Home Hospital in Lafayette decided that Becky had a concussion and needed to stay overnight for further observation. They moved her up into a room, and this is where Becky's memory began to kick in, and she no longer needed to repeat the same questions over and over and over and over and...well, you get the idea.

So. That was that. It was very frustrating for me, and very exasperating. But I went home on Sunday, and Mom helped me to finish packing [ok, she did it all and I sat in a chair and told her yes or no]. I drove to Cincy on Monday, with about 50 trillion guardian angels, I'm sure, and I went to my first day of school yesterday. Hoo, BUDDY, are there some characters in that class! It will be a very interesting time, lemme tell ya. 

Today I did very little. Job hunting and therapeutic book purchasing. [Don't mock me,  it works.] School again tomorrow, and then I plan on moving my things into a semi-permanent place and cleaning on Friday. But shhh! Don't tell Lori. She's out of town.

Which reminds me... Readers of this blog will please take a moment now to raise a cheer for the birth of Lorelei Brynn Rahlf. She came on August 5th at 4:30 MST (or is it MDT?) and weighed 8 lbs 9 oz. Happy parents are Tony and Melanie Rahlf, and excited big brother Soren. HUZZAH!

More updates to follow in the coming days, and more writing for those of you who are enlightened enough to receive it. Thank you and good night.