The Mystery of my tear ducts

Last night at Bang Bang You're Dead (which was incredible, by the way, I really haven't had my emotions stirred so much in an East High play before. Kevin was beyond description, it blew my mind that someone could change so much to fit a character. He definitely could do acting later in life, if he ever chose to, so props to him) I sat in the midst of a sobbing crowd. Don't get me wrong, I got the powerful message of the play, and really haven't stopped thinking about it, but I just couldn't get those tears to roll down my cheek. That got me thinking... why couldn't I cry like the rest of the audience? Was there something wrong with me? While pondering this, a powerful experience came back to me. Two years ago, we sent my brother and father on a plane carrying them across the world for a month, the longest time we've ever been separated. After watching them disappear beyond the metal detectors, Miss Karen Stack, Mrs. Stack, and I turned to leave. Not one tear had left my eyes. As we were walking, we saw a huge crowd with balloons and banners containing the words "Welcome Home Elder Robinson!" I stopped in place and exclaimed, "Elder Robinson's coming home! We have to wait and see him!" My mother was used to my eccentric moments, and decided to go along with it. We waited a few minutes and I started to get excited! This young man was coming home to his family. Elder Robinson was almost home! I could just see the excitement in this family, no one could stand still. A crowd of people came through the exit and from it emerged a man in a suit and name tag. His mother broke out from the jumping homewelcomers, and started sprinting towards her son. The love and happiness was strong in the air. To their horror, Karen and mom turned to find me sobbing. Not just one or two tears, but I was full on sobbing. I almost ran toward Elder Robinson... but then I remembered that I actually didn't know him. To this day I can't tell this story without crying (just ask Karen, I'm crying right now)
Another time, my AP Geography teacher announced that our test would be postponed. The room filled with cheers, happy exclamations, and..... sobs. Yes, you read that right, I was sitting at my desk completely crying. Possibly one of the most embarrassing moments, the teacher had to stop class and come examine what was happening. I had been under a ton of stress and just on the edge of a panic attack, and when one big stress was removed, I lost it.
Recently a friend of mine got asked on a date by a boy she likes. That night I laid in my bed, unable to sleep because I was so excited. I kept giggling and letting out small little shouts of happiness. I actually think I shed a few tears of joy. After about an hour of this, I remembered that I wasn't actually going on the date. Then I asked myself this, Suzanne my dear, why in the world, do you live life through other people? I feel more emotion vicariously than I do from my own experiences. I think there might be something wrong with that. When I'm on my deathbed, I'm going to say, "Wow what an amazing life... everyone else lived."So I decided that I'm going to start living my own life! Bring on the tears, baby!
Miss Stack

To go or not to go...

Miss Stack has contributed the most to this blog, as my life provides little excitement worthy of posting.  But as Miss Stack commented on her college dilemma, I will add a few words about mine.

Several of my friends, each of whom I look up to and admire, plan on attending BYU next year, and have done their best to persuade me to follow their examples.  Although I consider myself a U fan, I have nothing personal against BYU.  I do share Miss Stack's fears of an overemphasis on marriage, but, considering my previous dating record, I am not too worried.

And as for curriculum, I feel like either university would provide me with an adequate education for getting into graduate school.  

So when it comes down to it, my greatest point of indecision revolves around my unwillingness to leave the home.  I feel childish in my fear of change and growing up, but I have lived as the happiest of children and I would not want to hurry the end of that era of my life.  If I go to BYU, I know that I will enjoy myself more socially, as many of my dearest friends will call Provo their home this summer.  If I remain in Salt Lake, I will live at home and probably have a limited number of social experiences.  But I still do not feel ready to leave.  My sisters are my confidants and my best friends.  My dad would have no one to talk about sports with, and my mother would not have anyone to give her computer help.  And when my brother returns from his mission, if we attend the same school we would embark on endless adventures. 

Mr. Petersen has proven the most persuasive, and yesterday I almost decided upon BYU because of his reasoning.  Testing my family, I announced the Y as my school of choice.  Instantaneously, both of my sisters burst into tears, and even my dad turned sullen.  We all talked, and I recognized all the benefits of staying home.  By the end of the conversation I announced that I would certainly attend the U next year.  As soon as I made this announcement I felt incredible relief, like a burden had been lifted off my shoulders, and I knew that I chose correctly.

So my choice is made.  I will hold on to the last months of my childhood as a student at the University of Utah next year.  I only hope Miss Stack will follow.

Miss Garfield

I'm never going to grow up

After two and a half hours of sitting in a hot sweaty attic of an advertising firm, I made a big decision about my life. I decided that I don't want to grow up and have a job EVER. I want to remain a child forever and frolick in fields of sunflowers. I listened to woman after woman get up there and describe the dull work that they just "love" to do, even if they don't get around to doing it because they have a family to raise. After listening to all these woman, I couldn't think of one thing that I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing. Not one thing. Granted, there was one job that sounded remotely interesting, working as a manager for a non-profit organization. But the dance instructor, family historian, graphic designer, photographer (the only pictures she showed us were pictures of her children), 6th grade teacher, and nurse just didn't have anything interesting to say. It sounds like most of them only do their jobs if they have time after children or when they did do their jobs, it wasn't that meaningful. They ended the night saying that you should turn whatever you love doing into a career... like that's going to work. I love reading and hiking and ummmmm.... I don't know making weird facial expressions at myself in the mirror. How am I going to turn any of those things into a career?
So around the second hour, when I had to hold on to my seat so I wouldn't stand up and pull the fire alarm so I could get out of there, I decided that there wasn't a job out there for me and I should even go to college because I'm just going to hate whatever I get into anyways. I've already had bad experiences in the work place. My first job was as an Italian Ice scooper, I would stand next to a stand in the middle of nowhere all day in the hot summer sun, waiting for people to come by, so I could offer them samples. Being the ignorant responsible 15 year old as I was, I listened to the rule that said no books, phones, iPods, or anything worth living for, on the job. So that was not a good job.
Of course there's always been babysitting. I'm surprised I haven't killed anyone's kid yet. I'm horrible with kids. They general hate me, and run a muck.
The last job was tutoring. I actually really liked this job. I got payed for helping people with homework. Oh, I forgot to mention that another one of my hobbies is homework! I thrive off homework, even though I like to complain. So that was a fun job, but I don't think I actually helped the kids because I would get caught up in the work and do it myself and forget to explain, and they were ok with that because then they didn't have to do homework.
So... none of these jobs seem lucrative or even fun for me. So now I think I'll fall back on pursuing my dream job of pulling up the net behind the goal posts during football games.
At least I have more options that marriage, nannying, and prostitution, to my make my living. Jane Austen's characters had it rough.

My Biggest Fear

Recently I've had college on my mind. I'm still deciding between the U and the Y ( if anyone has any advice about choosing, let me know). For a little while, I was actually pretty certain that I would try the Y for a year... but then I talked to Lauren Evans. Lauren and I grew up together. Our backyards touch, so for many years, she would hop the fence and we would spend all day climbing trees and organizing neighborhood night games. We were even on the same soccer team. In middle school we would carpool together, and in High School she let me borrow her old prom dresses and would discuss which teachers were the best. Then she went to BYU. In her first class of the first day of college, she met a boy. Next week she is going to marry this boy. This BLOWS my mind. A girl that I grew up with, a girl I look up to and completely admire, is old enough to promise herself to a man for the rest of eternity. After one day she had found that man.... one day at the Y. That is my biggest fear. This may sound irrational, but seriously, if I found that one guy, and he proposed, I'm sure I would say yes, regardless of my age. But what if that is next year? I won't really have lived life, gone on adventures, learned about life's disappointments... But I'll be hitched down to a person and have to responsible. Boys are so lucky that they can go on missions at age 19. They have at least two years where they can discover themselves before they are thrown back into the crazy world of dating. I want to go a mission... but by the time I'm 21, I might not be in a position where I can leave everything.
Oh, by the way, has anyone else noticed all the couples around lately? My ward alone has had 5 weddings in the past few months! Five! And we have a puny sized ward. Not only marriages, but it seems like everyone has a significant other. Well not everyone... but a fair amount of people. Weird! Ah, springtime is the time for lovin'!
Miss Stack

My lost love

My romantic history is actually fairly tragic. The fairy tale relationship that we should have had never happened because certain obstacles got in the way. I shall start with the first moment I saw him. It was August 27, 2006, when I strolled nonchalantly into East High's ceramic's room. I recognized a few friends and sat next to them. I was early, or course, so the bell hadn't rung yet. I was conversing with my friends, when I stopped breathing. In walked the man of my dreams, actually he kind of ran because he was late. Anyways, he was about 6 foot, with blond swoopy hair, a hemp bag slung across one shoulder, a Bob Marley shirt hung loosely on him, and (the very very best part) he had rolled up his pants to mid calf. Right then and there I fell in love. There was no way of turning back. I was in this. He crossed the room and sat (conveniently) in a stool facing me, but three tables over. Because of his innocent face, laid back manner, and rolled up pants, I deemed him Tom Sawyer.

From that day forth, I tried everything in my 16 year old power to get his attention or find out his name. Only, a few months later, did I stumble across it. We were doing name plates in clay, and I circled the room and right behind his stool, I stopped and "adjusted" the tools I was carrying and there, perfectly clear, carved out of the moist clay, in teenage boy handwriting was scrawled "Tyler"... but I still thought of him as Tom. Little over a month after that, I got the courage and I talked to him. He was glazing his coil pot over by the sink. I skillfully found that my hands were dirty, so I made my way over to the sink. I washed my hands.... very very thoroughly, as I was washing it, I turned to Mr. Sawyer and said in my most seductive voice, "Nice pot" He looked up at me and gave me a piercing glance and said "Thank you" in the richest most sincere voice I ever heard.
Well after finding out his name and conversing with him, I went ahead and started planning the wedding. I had everything ready. I overheard him say that he was trying to quit smoking, so I even got a temple date.
But here, like in most perfect love stories, fate interrupted our beautiful love. It was the last day of school, I was standing the back of the auditorium watching the seniors' picture fly by. I watched as the face of my beloved graced the screen for a few seconds. My lovely sister, Miss Karen Stack, witnessed my somber look of shock. I turned to her slowly, stood there for a few minutes in a state of numbness. I could feel my heart breaking, and that's when I started crying. I had no idea that he was a senior. I thought we had time. I mean for goodness sakes, I had only one conversation with him. But my time was all used up. Once I got my yearbook, I spent the rest of the day, trying to find him. I didn't know what I was going to say to him, but I just had to have him sign my yearbook and admire his rolled up pants just one last time. I turned the corner, and just a few feet away from me stood the only man I've ever loved. This was my chance, I squared my shoulders and started walking forward. But, again with the fate thing, a certain teacher stood in the way of my happiness. The teacher drilled me about my brother, and by the time I got away from him, Mr. Sawyer was gone. Forever.
I know I shall never love another as I loved Tom... but one day I might be able to reassemble my shattered heart.
Miss Stack

All about the infamous Miss Garfield...

Unlike Miss Stack, I never possessed the wit or vivacity to live up to a comparison to Elizabeth Bennett.  Oftentimes I live as Emma Woodhouse, scheming and gossiping about the romances of others but never expecting love to find me.  Miss Stack often joins me in these ridiculous plans; she did not err when she announced that we live vicariously.

My friends, however, claim I resemble Mary Bennett in my actions, and I admit they are right.  I watch others in their love affairs but feel far removed, and hide behind my attempts at becoming accomplished.  

But I fear I am sounding too morose.  In reality I see myself in some of every Jane Austen character.  I love laughter like Lydia, reason like Eleanor, and appear shy like Jane.  And outside of the Jane Austen sphere, I live to ski, travel, and for the next adventure.

And with my lovely friends and excellent family, I live in a happily ever after...  

Affectionately yours, 

Miss Garfield

An introduction to Miss Stack

Hello,
I am Miss Stack, a flourishing young lady, who just happened to be born in the wrong time period. If I could relate to one Jane Austen character, it would have to be Elizabeth Bennet because I do enjoy a good laugh at the world. I've even had my own Mr. Collins, (remind me to recount that story later), and perhaps an encounter with a Mr. Wickham. But I'm sure one day my Mr. Darcy will come and completely sweep me off my feet.
As for now, I'm acting as Emma, living vicariously through my friends' relationships and sometimes even meddling ( I really need to stop doing that).
I also feel like I could belong in Sense and Sensibility because I have a best friend who is more of a sister to me (Miss Garfield). I'm not sure which one is Maryanne and which is Eleanor, I think we switch off. Or maybe neither of us is very sensible. Possibly Miss Garfield is Eleanor and I'm Maryanne because Miss Garfield often takes care of me. Regardless, we've stuck by each other through the most disagreeable and agreeable parts of High School.
For the most part, I'm an average girl and a hopeless romantic. I'm always looking forward to the next ball and devouring Jane Austen books, faster than I do certain literature that has to do with Vampires. I do believe in happily ever afters, although they don't all have to end in marriage.
Sincerely,
Miss Stack

Our welcome...

Ladies and Gentlemen, 

We proudly present our blog, an insight into our Jane Austen fantasies as we describe the quaint flirtations and glamorous adventures of high school.  We know that few will see this, save our own four eyes, but if you do happen across it on a day of boredom, please overlook our eccentricities and still be our friends.