Archive for November, 2007

keep on going

Posted in Life, me on November 29, 2007 by drbolte

That was rough…. Thing to do now is try and forget it…. I guess I don’t quite mean that.  It’s not a thing you can forget.  Maybe not even a thing you want to forget…. Life’s like that sometimes… Now and then for no good reason a man can figure out, life will just haul off and knock him flat, slam him agin’ the ground so hard it seems like all his insides is busted.  But it’s not all like that.  A lot of it’s mighty fine, and you can’t afford to waste the good part frettin’ about the bad.  That makes it all bad…. Sure, I know – sayin’ it’s one thing and feelin’ it’s another.  But I’ll tell you a trick that’s sometimes a big help.  When you start lookin’ around for something good to take the place of the bad, as a general rule you can find it. –from Old Yeller


While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates.  You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.  –Samuel Johnson


So, I’ve decided something.  I think that my mood–specifically, the degree to which I can embrace optimism and a perfect brightness of hope–is directly correlated to how well I sleep and eat.


Could that be yet another part of the whole “early to bed, early to rise” and word of wisdom thing?


Heavenly Father is


And life is pretty amazing as well. I am so blessed.


And to ensure that I keep thinking that, I’m taking a nap.



sweet merciful heavens

Posted in i am your american idol, Life, me on November 28, 2007 by drbolte

do you know this song? “tattoo” by jordin sparks, the latest american idol winner?

it is lyrically TERRIBLE. “you’ll be on my heart just like a tattoo”?



but it’s like CRACK.  see, it starts out sort of compelling.  and then it gets stupid. but by that point, it’s already needled its way into your head and lives there, like a tapeworm, just soaking up any extra moments of idleness, until you find yourself singing “just like a tattoo…i’ll always have you” like it’s something to be proud of.


i am humiliated every single time.

in other news, i have discovered that the double-edged sword of loyalty is not being able to let go very easily.


in other news, my best friend is the best person on the planet and the one who singlehandedly, 100%, restores my faith in humanity.

“i had to stop her screaming!”

Posted in friends, Life, me, mirror mirror on the wall, The Single Life, yet another reason why i don't understand men, you have to be a chick to understand on November 27, 2007 by drbolte

do you know Clue?

i don’t mean the board game, you lightweights. i mean the amazing tim curry, madeline kahn, et al film of the mid 80s that adapted the board game.

if you don’t know this, be ashamed. and then netflix it. because, really, it’s so hilarious.

i am, however, not simply writing an ode to the brilliance of Martin Mull’s Colonel Mustard (although his mommy and daddy line gets me every single time).  i am using it as a segue into something that seemed horrible when i woke up this morning but that, as i get longer into the day and think more about it, now seems like a great blessing…that’s not even in much disguise anymore.

so, life pretty much slapped me in the face this morning.

it wasn’t life-altering. just hurtful. it was something i would have never done…not in one million years…to someone else, especially not a friend.  so it felt like a slap–literally. an emotional slap. i’m pretty sure i even felt nauseous afterwards.

the morning was full of figuring out what to do next.

the details aren’t important.

what’s important, though, is the way that that slap has turned from a horrifying moment into a smack back into reality.

see, the supersassy carrie, the one who believed in herself and was sure of her own amazingness, the one with her priorities right and whose desire is only to serve Heavenly Father and who’s strong enough and focused enough to do it, has been AWOL lately, replaced with someone who worried a lot, fretted more, and basically felt like life was one big school where she was barely passing.

you ever have days…weeks…months like that?

i’m grateful for the lessons. really, i am. i know more about myself now than i did three months ago. i am farther along in my progression than i have been in a good long while.

basically, i feel READY for things now that i didn’t feel ready for before.

(gosh that was a convoluted sentence. i hope it translates.)

back to clue.

mr. green, when mrs. peacock is screaming about something or other–basically, she’s gone loopy–smacks the daylights out of her.

it shocks her.

and she returns to her senses.

she returns to herself.

and she moves on.

i feel like that’s what today’s events have done for me.  smacked me back to life.  back to who i am.  back to who i WANT to be. reminded me of what’s important, who’s important, and what i’m here to do.

it’s amazing how shock can sort of crystallize your vision, make you see and feel things differently.  i guess anything that jars us out of a rut does that for us.

so, i am grateful for the slap. i can’t say that it doesn’t sting and that i’ll ALWAYS be grateful for it, but i’m awfully grateful for the reminder that i am not this person.

i am supersassy.

i am wickedly funny.

i am confident and full of life.

i give of myself.

i am a GREAT friend.

i love people with my whole heart.

and i’ve got game, according to one adorable guy friend of mine.

so…i’m off to play.  REALLY play.  play with heart and my whole self.  play with everything that i have.

play for keeps this time.

because i needed to be reminded…

Posted in Church, Life on November 26, 2007 by drbolte

From Elder Boyd K. Packer:

If you suffer from worry, from grief or shame, from jealousy, disappointment, or envy, I have something to tell you.

Somewhere near your home there is a vacant corner lot. Although adjoining yards may be well tended, a vacant corner lot somehow is always full of weeds.

There is a footpath across it, a bicycle trail, and ordinarily it is a collecting place for junk. First someone threw a few lawn clippings there. They would not hurt anything. Someone added a few sticks and limbs from a nearby yard. Then came a few papers and a plastic bag, and finally some tin cans and old bottles were included.

And there it was—a junkyard.

The neighbors did not intend it to be that. But little contributions from here and there made it so.

This corner lot is like, so very much like, the minds of many of us. We leave our minds vacant and empty and open to trespass by anyone. Whatever is dumped there we keep.

We would not consciously permit anyone to dump junk into our minds, not old cans and bottles. But after lawn clippings and papers, the other things just don’t seem all that much worse.

Our minds can become veritable junk heaps with dirty, cast-off ideas that accumulate there little by little.

Years ago I put up some signs in my mind. They are very clearly printed and simply read: “No trespassing.” “No dumping allowed.” On occasions it has been necessary to show them very plainly to others.

I do not want anything coming into my mind that does not have some useful purpose or some value that makes it worth keeping. I have enough trouble keeping the weeds down that sprout there on their own without permitting someone else to clutter my mind with things that do not edify.

I’ve hauled a few of these away in my lifetime. Occasionally I’ve tossed these thoughts back over the fence where they came from, when it could be done in a friendly manner.

I’ve had to evict some thoughts a hundred times before they would stay out. I have never been successful until I have put something edifying in their place.

I do not want my mind to be a dumping place for shabby ideas or thoughts, for disappointments, bitterness, envy, shame, hatred, worry, grief, or jealousy.

If you are fretting over such things, it’s time to clean the yard. Get rid of all that junk! Get rid of it!

Put up a “no trespassing” sign, a “no dumping” sign, and take control of yourself. Don’t keep anything that will not edify you.

The first thing a doctor does with a wound is to clean it out. He gets rid of all foreign matter and drains off infection—however much it hurts.

Once you do that spiritually, you will have a different perspective. You will have much less to worry about. It is easy to get all mixed up about worry.

The full talk, entitled The Balm of Gilead and which is amazing, can be found here.


Posted in Life on November 14, 2007 by drbolte

I’m going to make an analogy here. I hope you’ll roll with me on it.

Sometimes life seems like a harvest time to me.

You know, a culmination–nearing the end of a season of beauty. You get to see, finally, the rewards of all of the hard work that you’ve put in–you get to literally reap what you’ve sown. There’s no more hoping, no more faith. It’s pure knowledge because you can see the fruits of your labor, right there in your hands. Nevertheless, things are at their pinnacle–you know that they’re about to be gone, and you know that it’s the way that it’s supposed to be. You step back in wonder at the beautiful colors and the perfect ripeness that only last for a brief fleeting moment. Harvest, for me, is a time of awe.

I am standing in a moment like that in my life, it feels like, right now.

It’s hard to see beyond that brilliance. It’s hard to not want these perfect moments to last. It’s hard to not be afraid of the seeming gloom that will come next–the sparsity, the hibernation–when all you want is the beauty and magic to stay forever.

It’s hard to be okay with the cycle of things.

Winter doesn’t seem to be a hopeful time. You know? It seems to be anything but. Harvest seems like an end. It would be really easy to see the bad in that–the ending, the finality of it all–and ignore what fall really is. Yes, it’s an end, but it’s also the beginning of the next amazing thing that comes.

All of those leaves, once brilliant and gorgeous on the trees, cover the ground and feed it. They protect the acorns and seeds that have already fallen, almost imperceptibly because of their sheer number, and found a place to nestle themselves. Only by getting rid of the old can the new find a place. You get a brief respite, as does the ground, before it’s time to sow again.

It’s true of life as well.

While I reap, right now, some of the fruits of many years of hopeful labor, I know that I am witnessing but the smallest degree of the harvest that I will see. Does that make any sense? So while I wish these seemingly perfect moments would last forever, I look forward to the day when my harvest will be full, when I will have proven myself a profitable servant in some small measure, when I will be able to reap all of the things that I have hoped for but have not yet seen.

But I mourn, a little bit, every leaf that falls.

I think that’s probably okay.


Posted in blogging, me, memelicious on November 12, 2007 by drbolte

Rules: Let others know a little more about yourself.  Repost this as your name followed by “ology.”


Q. What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
A. Taco Bell, I think.  Followed by Wendy’s, I guess.

Q. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
A: Pizza or ice cream.

Q.What are your pizza toppings of choice?
A. Pineapple and pepperoni OR barbeque chicken and bacon.


Q. What is currently on your computer wallpaper?
A: Mac default blue.

Q. How many televisions are in your house?
A: 4–one in every bedroom plus one in the living room.


Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
A. Right-handed.

Q. When was the last time you had a cavity?
A. Three years ago, I guess.

Q. Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
A. No. Unless I paid someone to do it shortly before they cut me open.


Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
A. Assorted blues. Or black.

Q. Have you ever saved someone’s life?
A. No.

Q. Has someone ever saved yours?
A. Not that I’m aware of.


Q: What is in your left pocket?
A: Nothing.

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
A. GOSH!  Yes. I really don’t understand people who don’t get it.

Q: Last time you had a run-in with the cops?
A: I don’t even remember. Oh wait–I got a ticket this time last year for having an expired registration. That was scary.


Q: Last person who called you?
A:  Veronica.

Q: Last Person you hugged?
A: Veronica.


Q: Number?
A: 9

Q: Season?
A: Winter


Q: Mood?
A: Quiet. Kind of pensive.  Sort of irritable.  Ready to feel better.

Q: Listening to?
A: Carrie Underwood on country radio

Q: Watching?
A: Myself waste some time.


Q: What can you not wait to do?
A: Get married.  Oh, did you mean immediately? Do something fun with one of my favorite people.

Q: What’s the last movie you saw?
A: Never Been Kissed, last night.

Q: Do you smile often?
A: Not enough, I think.  But yes, probably.
If you read it, and want to do it, go for it.

living out loud

Posted in blogging, Life, me on November 9, 2007 by drbolte

Hi all.

Remember me? I used to post here a lot…more…than I have been lately.

I’m sure you’ve all missed me. In fact, I’m sure you haven’t. I’m more sure that you have filled the void with more substantial things to do–youtube, perhaps, or Facebook or maybe something unrelated to your online world.  Maybe something outside in the fall sunshine?

I hope that’s true.

I’m back because Megan inspired me.  She always does. If you haven’t already, please read her post about priorities and simplification and, quite frankly, just being okay with not being everyone to everybody all of the time.   I love it.  I love the passion behind her post.

I miss the passion I used to have for blogging.

Blogging has always been an outlet for me.  I write when I can’t speak. I write when I can manage to make anything in my life make sense, when I can’t even articulate why I am feeling the way I’m feeling or even identify what it is that I am feeling. I write when I have something to say but can’t say it to anyone but an accepting WordPress screen.

Lately, I haven’t felt much of that. Or, if I have, it’s been about things that I haven’t wanted the whole world to share in.

Lately, I have been living my life instead of writing about it.

Don’t get me wrong. That’s not a dig at blogging, at journaling, at any one of you whose blogs I so adore.  It’s just a statement.  My life has suddenly gotten to be…more…than it was before–fuller, richer, more complicated, more amazing and fun–and I don’t know how to talk about it.

And, actually, I don’t really have time to talk about it.  I think I’m catching a glimpse of real life right now, the life that you all lead. How do you manage it all–with kids and husbands and jobs and church and hobbies and blogs and everything else that you do every day?

I am in awe.  I have not even half of that and I am finding myself desperately trying to find a way to balance everything.

The blog has suffered as a result.

But I don’t really much care.

I hope you don’t take that the wrong way.

I guess I’m here to say that, for the foreseeable future, this is the way it’s going to be. I’m not going to post every day. I may not even post every week.

I’ll speak when I have something to say.

If you’re cool with that, great. If not…that’s okay too.

My life is fantastic right now.  That’s all that really matters.

Posted in Uncategorized on November 7, 2007 by drbolte


Posted in dissertation, etcetera, family, friends, Life, me, School on November 1, 2007 by drbolte

have you seen storypeople?

it’s lovely. go there. it makes you think, and some of the quotes get me where i live. this one especially struck me today, as i think it describes better how i’m feeling than i could myself.

Most people she never tells about the tightrope because she doesn’t want to listen to their helpful comments from the ground.

do you ever feel like you’re walking a tightrope and, rather than hear suggestions about foot placement or balance, you’d like to just hear some cheerleading? or maybe some sympathetic “ooh!”s and “wow!”s?

that’s how i’ve been feeling.

nothing bad’s happened. life is still amazing and magical.

but i have a lot to do. and not a lot of it seems to be getting done for the running around like a crazy person that i seem to do every day.

case in point: yesterday.

it was my temple wednesday, which i was alternately grateful for and wishing was another week. more gratitude than wishing, though, lest you throw rotten fruit at me. so, i was up at 5 and driving to orlando (about a 1 1/2 hour drive one way) by 5:30. i worked until about 12:45, then had to run to walmart, then drove home, then talked to my mom for about a half an hour, then helped my roommate with a project for some departing missionaries that we adore (stupid transfers!), then had dinner with the missionaries, then stayed home from institute ostensibly to get some much-needed sleep but ended up working on the project some more until i begged for mercy at 10 and went to bed. where i ended up not being able to fall asleep until like 11. and then i woke up at 5:45 to go to breakfast this morning.


yeah, i know that everybody’s got crappy schedules, and my world of singleness and fun and running around doing crazy things is probably not at all seeming like it’s rough.

but when all i want to do is sleep, read a freaking book that i need to read, or clean the house and i can’t manage to get any of that done, it’s deeply frustrating to me.

i feel time ticking by and i wonder if i have much to show for it.

right now, more than ever, i feel like my life is a tightrope. a rich, rewarding, fabulously fantastic tightrope, but a tightrope nonetheless.

and weeks like this, where it all seems to be crashing in on my head, my sleep-deprived, perhaps whiny head, make me want a cheerleading section.

this week, when i tried to get people to cheer me on, they all sort of shrugged and went back to concentrating on their own busy schedules. it makes sense.

but at times i want to say, “excuse me, do you freaking REALIZE everything that i’m handling up here? do you realize how gravity-defying this is? do you UNDERSTAND that at any moment i could plunge, head over feet, onto the concrete below…but that i’m managing to not?”

i realize, though, like storypeople says, that sometimes it’s better to not call attention to the tightrope.

if nobody else sees it, maybe it’ll be easier to walk.

or that’s what i tell myself, anyways. but sometimes i’d just like the people that i love the most to notice it on their own. and give me a hug.

maybe i’ll start doing that for the people in MY life instead.

it will certainly help me keep my balance.