Thursday, January 28, 2010

In Which I Explain (to some extent) My Friday

This week hasn't been the most eventful, as far as spectacular/gaudy/in-your-face events go. My aunt did have an adorable baby, which was awfully exciting. And I DID get an A on my math test...which was also awfully exciting. (yes yes yes yes yes yes yes YES.) But.

I think the week has been settling me into a false sense of relaxation. Tomorrow is Friday, the end of the week, the oh-my-goodness-this-should-be-a-relieving-day-because-I-can-play-and-then-sleep-in-tomorrow-till-twelve kind of day. That's what Fridays usually are, right? No such luck for this chick. (HA! I mean, are you really surprised?) At three thirty tomorrow, Lone Peak's Chamber Choir (which I am a member of...hence my story about it that I am telling you right now) will be at American Fork Junior High School rehearsing Mozart's Requiem with the rock star of choral directors: Mack Wilberg. (MACK WILBERG! Who wouldn't want to meet a rock star of CHORAL MUSIC?! Soooo the 3:30 to 9:30. Oy, yoy yoy. 6 hours. SIX. (1,2,3,4,5,6. also, 3*2.) But, it's ok. It'll go by fast. Hopefully. And then maybe I'll go pound on a friends door and say, "Take me in, lads, lassies! Me achin' bones can't hold up much longer and I be needin' a hang-out this evenin'!" (Yes. I'm so doing that. Irish accent and EVERYTHING.)

And then...Saturday. I'll have to talk about that tomorrow. If I have time. Will Carlie make it through the high notes of Mozart's mind? Can she find the energy to drive her car all the way to American Fork? Or the gas money?? Stay tuned to find out the answers to these questions and more!

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

remember my sneaking suspicion?

I was totally right.

Today was Tuesday.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Today was Monday.

Yesterday, Sunday.

And I have a sneaking suspicion that tomorrow will be Tuesday.

Just another week of winter,

and I am aching for the springtime.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

faby bairies and Naomi

[W]hen the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. And now when every new baby is born its first laugh becomes a fairy. So there ought to be one fairy for every boy or girl.
~James Matthew Barrie, Peter Pan

Now presenting...naomi lee o'bryant!  My newest cousin! Even though I'm claiming her as my niece since her mother is basically my sister. I WILL be Auntie Carlie, that awesomely stylish and wealthy aunt (minus the, you know...wealth) who spoils her fabulous niece. That's right--I'm AWESOME. ;)

Oh, she is so precious. There's something about a baby that just...smells like Heaven. Literally. They're so fresh and new to the world. Simply angelic and completely innocent. It's a beautiful thing to hold that in your arms! I love her!

 I'll tell her to believe in fairies.
Vintage images found at


:) :-) :0)

Saturday, January 23, 2010


There's nothing worse than depressing snow, at least as far as weather is concerned. In early December, the first snow is a thing of celebration, jubilee, festivities! It means that Christmas is closing in. It's happy snow. Once Christmas is over, the snow stays fairly cheerful for about a week. Then, just after New Year's Day, it resorts to a sad, selfish, and unreliable mood. With no more holiday to look forward to, the snow quickly becomes an inconvenient hassle and a dirty, gray, wizened atmosphere settles over everything. It melts, refreezes into deadly ice, then melts, refreezes into even deadlier ice, and so on. Then, out of the CLEAR BLUE (or rather, sooty gray--I haven't seen clear blue skies in far too long) fresh, clean snow starts to blizzard around. Things begin to look a little bit nicer, the new snow disguising the blackened ice, but it doesn't hold the same excitement as it did before. It's merely an unexpected cover-up. Tomorrow afternoon, it'll get just warm enough to liquify some of this precipitation, and then tomorrow night, the biting cold will sweep through and turn everything to slick, hidden, cunning ice.

Boo on January. It's crampin' my style, Lyle.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

In our lovely

More fondly known as D.I., and quite possibly one of the greatest miracles of these latter days. A thrifty miracle. An oh-my-gracious-do-they-really-have-that-item miracle.

Carlie's Shopping I-just-barely-bought-these-incredible-things-tonight List

  • a couple of fantastically vintage dresses
  • three pairs of delicious denims
  • peachy-keen blouses
  • an extremely creeper porcelain doll with a pale purple pallor
  • a not-so-scary mini porcelain doll to hang on my mobile (YES! I am making a mobile! For my ROOM! Like what babies have, except...I'm seventeen!)
  • a new desk chair, ready to be re-covered
  • the shelf: $10.00, perfect condition, perfect size, perfection.
  • and randoms: musty-smelling books, miniature brass picture frames, and ribbons.
All in all, a highly successful evening.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010


The drumming hum
of ceaseless rain
that thrums against
my windowpane.

Fingers there
enticing me
to sit and watch
the tossing sea.

From warm indoors
I watch the sky.
Its cold eyes too
are watching mine.

The chilling season
here abounds
in never-ending
rainy rounds.

A former glory
of the sun
has disappeared,
its day is done.

Once happy waves
now angry turn
in rolling thrusts
of frothy churn.


Monday, January 18, 2010

and whom do you prefer?

On saturday I went to preference.
it was quite enjoyable. We made masks for the day date (the theme was masqerade) and then watched wait until dark, only one of the best movies of all time. We ate a fabulous dinner at my grandparent's beautiful house, then danced ourselves silly. I had the time of my life.  

Saturday, January 16, 2010

growing wings

stripedsockspurplesweatshirtcorsages julieandjulia.

Now these are a few of my favorite things, a few of the things that help me have wings.

Thursday, January 14, 2010


and deepening darkness;
ever present
yet barely there.

Then bursting in enormity
of gradual energy,
dancing through a caged existence
to possibility.

Then floating away...

But to what?
To where?
Where will it go?

When the light forces itself through
the thick cashmere of night?

Previous darkness felt
but not pursued,
not desired.

Shut out.
The sun
comes again.


It's definitely time for

a new pair of slippers. Pronto.

Sometimes... have to make a decision you never thought you would have to make. You feel completely at peace with that decision, and yet negative and sorrowful emotions still bubble inside of you, just beneath the surface, waiting to explode in an extremely female kind of way. That crippling sense of failure grips your senses and shakes them...well, senseles. You really wish you could explain away all of the stupid things you're feeling and make them go dig their own graves, never to return, but no. They stick to you like skin to mic tape, stick to your heart and nearly suffocate it. Everything squashes together in the immense pressure and stress of your suffocating organ.

You've been waiting and waiting, but the clouds remain in their chilly, grey state, not a hint of silver to be found. Their linings stay darkened, offering no answers to questions you seek answers to.

Silver linings come in retrospect, at the end of someone's story. My story is far from over.