Boston in the fall, take 3

Friends: it turns out I didn't actually finish or publish this entry (from clear back in early October).  But it's kind of fun, and all true, so I'm going to publish it as is.

I can't really say whether it is because my expectations have lowered, or because this year the colors of the trees really are better, but I just can't help but come to the conclusion that this fall Boston is much more vibrant than the other two with which I can compare it.  My vantage point is also much better (from the 3rd floor of the Mandel Center, at the top of the already-tall Brandeis hill).

The weather is certainly nippier than last year as well.  But that didn't stop me from a quick dip in Walden the other night.  It was a bit of a jolt at first submersion, but then our bodies acclimatized and we treaded water comfortably for quite a few minutes.  It was a glorious night, even though it was my first night as the leader, and I led us a bit astray for the first little while.  That, along with my headlamp that kept blinking out on me, made the finding of the pond a great relief!

Elder Taylor

I just got off Skype with my brother James.  He is officially Elder Taylor.  He will enter the MTC tomorrow at 1:00.  I won't be there.  My heart hurts for that.  But it also rejoices in that day.  I can hardly believe it is here!  He will be such a wonderful missionary.  He is full of hope and strength and real experience and appreciation for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  He is also nervous for his own weakness, and a bit prideful.  But he also humbly acknowledges his weakness, and knows where to find true strength.  I am so excited to share this journey with him.

I am also filled with excitement for him to experience the MTC - a place so dear to my heart.  And to experience the intimate tutelage, growth and faith developed on a mission.  If only he could know how I pray for him.

Already his choices for good have blessed his brothers.  On Sunday, at his own farewell, James' older brother Tyson was announced to be ordained as an elder (news to all of us in the family, except for Tyson, of course - he never communicates!).  And tomorrow (they got a rush appointment) he will go in to receive his Patriarchal Blessing, before they head down to drop of James.  Wow.  Big week for the Taylors.  Big blessings.  I am equally excited to see Tyson progressing, learning who he is, learning to trust his goodness and embrace it.  I hope, and believe it is quite possible, that Tyson will soon follow his brother, and Cisco will follow shortly thereafter.  Who would have thought!

I must get back to my final, but I wanted to share more joy.  Thanks to all of you who read and share it with me.  Boy!  The day of miracles has not ceased, but is here!

I find myself with a couple of extra minutes this morning and thought I would take a moment and share with you some thoughts.  They will be brief, but they have been meaningful to me, and hopefully to you as well.

I spent Thanksgiving with my family in Wyoming, where I had occasion to bask in the joy of a miracle all week long.  As some of you know, Thanksgiving marks a year since my brother James visited me for Thanksgiving last year.  He came because he was in a dark place and wouldn't speak to my parents.  I have been very blessed to maintain, even through his most angry and rebellious times, a good relationship with my brother, and my parents thought perhaps he would agree to spend Thanksgiving with me - he certainly wasn't willing to spend it with them.  

I knew this was an opportunity, but I also knew that if I tried to tell James that where he was going was leading to misery, in the wrong way or at the wrong time, when he wasn't ready to hear it, I would not only entrench him further, but risked hurting my relationship with him - the last strand linking him to our family.  I prayed long and earnestly for the right moment.  

That moment came as I drove him to the airport to go home.  The entire time he was here, I simply loved him and remained silent.  But he began to ask me about some of the things going on in his life, the issues with my parents, and so on.  I don't remember well what I said (but I do believe I wrote it in my journal), but I remember being amazed at the conversation we had, and his willingness to hear hard things.  

Shortly after that he informed me that he had gone to talk to his bishop because he wanted to go on a mission, and needed to change his life. He confessed he was worried that he couldn't maintain a righteous life for a whole year (he had developed some really bad habits) before he would be eligible to go.  I told him I would write him a letter every week to help remind him of why he is doing what he is doing.  I have done that (with a couple of missed weeks where I had to write two letters the next), and have received so many blessings.  It has been beautiful to share this with him, and I have become so close to him.  That is one blessing.

But the miracle is his change of heart.  His testimony of the Atonement is real and personal and powerful; his desire to serve is deep and tender.  He is by no means perfect, and still has some of the tendencies toward arrogance and anger that led him down the wrong path before.  But he is recognizing it and growing toward better things.  

Before I left him (he leaves on his mission in two weeks), I had the opportunity to ask him what kind of missionary he wants to be, what he wants to be remembered as.  He told me, and I encouraged him to write it down, put it somewhere he would see it frequently, and live to become that every day.  I also shared with him Ether 12:27 and testified that as he comes to the Savior (which is what a mission is about anyway - truly coming to the Savior by doing His work: bringing others to the Savior as well), he will find his weakness all over the place, in everything.  It will be difficult and frustrating, but if he will bring it to the Savior, he will become strong.  He will become the missionary and man he wants to be.

Today (at this very moment, even), James is in the Temple receiving his endowment.  I can hardly believe the blessings.  He will enter the MTC in less than two weeks.  He could still use all the prayers we have to spare, but I truly believe he will be a powerful servant in the Lord's hands.  I also have great hope and faith that his brothers will follow suit.  Tyson is talking about the possibility, and Cisco is trying to figure his future out, but both are on a fairly decent path.  I loved being with my family, and I love the closeness I have felt to my brothers of late - I haven't felt that ever, not really.  But now I can and am so happy.  

Anyway, thanks for sharing in my joy.

I've been telling everyone else, and I suppose I might as well write down and record my recent ponderings and self-realizations.

Some context (as if you already don't have enough): I have never been especially good at questions. Well, I suppose that isn't altogether true. As a child, I was particularly good at pondering the world around me. But the vapid school system, and my desire to be “good” and not push limits or think the wrong thing, succeeded in quenching my thirst for knowledge, and I lately find myself being challenged by my stunted ability to question. Just question.

I'm still pretty good at pondering, as long as it doesn't require reaching outside of myself for answers. That is where I fall short. My research skills – and ability to just know what's going on around me – really are lacking. It's a frustration that I am trying to overcome.

But in the midst of this ever-present lack, I have also felt myself growing. True, it is by meager steps – and I'm sure it would be much faster growth if I could just discipline myself to study in a more dedicated, efficient way. But I am growing. I feel as if I have entered a new and exciting phase of my life, and I want to talk about it.

As I struggle to think more critically about the things I'm learning (interesting note that I should have known before, but somehow didn't really understand – the more knowledge one has in a topic, the more one is able to think critically about a certain piece of literature or scholarship relating to that subject. Hence, one needs to really immerse oneself in the subject – be it the gospel, Israel, or any other topic), I am finding that it is OK to question. This is a new and wonderful realization. It is so liberating and sweet. I can remain firm in what I know, and question elements of it at the same time. It doesn't mean I have a weak testimony, or that I am not a good member of the Church. A publicly-acknowledged feminist can be Stake Relief Society President to a staunchly conservative Stake President. She can work successfully within her bounds, while at the same time questioning and pushing those bounds. I can have a place and work within the kingdom and still make waves in that kingdom. I don't have to just fit a prescribed image of womanhood and femininity. This is big news for me.

I am finding that I can be OK with me – something I have been striving to achieve for a long time. I have begun to heal from past wounds – both those I inflicted on myself, as well as those inflicted on me from a very young age. I am learning to love myself, to see myself as more than what I did as a young child (oh the irony of that – most of us want to return to the innocence of youth, while I would simply love to erase much of the memories of mine).

In my youth I questioned and thought – and that is something I lost. That I can return to. I rejected the traditional style of girlhood, but as I approached adulthood, I began to repress that side of me, believing that, in order to be the right person, I had to embrace the image I thought was the proper LDS girl, for the most part. Granted, I have always been my own version of that, but to a large degree I have lost some of my youthful questions and sense of difference - and joy in difference. I was persecuted for years for my difference, and instead of embracing it, I conformed. Now I am learning to think again, to relish my difference, and it is joyous.


Here are some photos of fall for you to enjoy.

Dare to Tri, Twice

I did it.  I sucked up every ounce of courage I had and paraded in a swimsuit all over the beach for the better part of an hour, surrounded by more attractive, fit, and better clad men and women and their sleek bodies.  That was the hard part.  The swimming, biking, and running was easy after that.  OK, "easy" is perhaps the wrong term.  But it certainly is a battle of personal will not to hide in the car, refusing to come out, feeling intimidated by all the people with thin, muscular legs around me, most of whom have no idea how much harder it is to battle weight than to battle those waves crashing to the shore.  I mentioned once to a friend that it is kind of hard to do these things - I certainly don't fit in.  But I can finish the race, and I'm just not going to let my own embarrassment stop me.  I just won't.  My friend suggested that that was quite remarkable - that I didn't let my size stop me.  I don't think it's remarkable.  It will be remarkable when either or both of the following finally happens (and we're making progress in both): a) my body is in a shape I can be comfortable with; b) I simply don't give a darn what my body looks like in comparison to others, because I know it's beautiful.  Those two together are much of why I do what I do.

So, yep, I completed my second sprint triathlon of the year.  In a couple of ways, this tri was a bit more difficult.  The waves in the ocean were enormous - enough to cause me to jump into them literally with a prayer on my lips that I would make it to the other side alive.  But once I moved forward into them, my heart settled down, and while I felt battered, tossed, and a bit tired, I felt generally calm and strong.  I was and am not ever fast in the water.  But I can swim forever, I have noticed recently.  So it was yesterday.  I was not the last of my heat to finish, but almost.  A few people around me got on the raft with the life guard and had to be taken to shore.  But, although I was slow, I made it.

The bike was so much better than last time.  I borrowed my friend Carri's bike.  It's a nice road bike, but with regular pedals.  I was blown away at the difference!  In the last race I didn't pass a single person, and was passed by so many - from speedy racers to old guys on mountain bikes.  It was rather discouraging.  Yesterday, I passed at least 10 people - possibly more.  I really didn't count, I was just joying in the speed and power I felt.  I have decided it's time for me to put aside a fund for a decent used road bike.  Somehow.

And then the run.  I struggled in the June triathlon with pain in my lower back as I ran, and had really stretched the week before trying to prevent a repeat.  But I failed in this regard.  Utterly failed.  The pain began on the bike (again, same scenario) about 2/3 of the way through, and then intensified as I ran.  It was so bad that I had to intersperse my running with walking about every 5 minutes.  I walked about 1/4 of the 3.5 miles, but ran the last 3/4 mile and finished strong (cursing that blasted sand the whole last 100 feet).

Aside from a back feeling a bit sore, I have really felt good yesterday and today.  I find it strange that I can really be so much larger than most everyone else, but keep up rather well.  I saw one woman, truly my hero, who was probably double my size, beginning the running (she was walking) as I was completing it.  Then after the race, as we were driving away, I saw her coming in.  She had done it.  I guess that's what this is about for me.  No matter the obstacle, the weakness, the excuses we can all make, I want to always be engaged in the struggle to be better than I am today.  In all things.  The triathlon is just one aspect of that struggle for me.

Part of that struggle is to accept me as me, while pushing forward to improve me.  I think as I accept me as me, it allows me to accept others as they are, and walk with them as we grow together.  That was the way it felt in June as I ran with Sylvia and Carri.  They ran with me, alongside me.  They encouraged me, stretched my aching back, and made what was rather painful a much more pleasant experience.  They both could have run much faster, gotten a better time.  But they had nothing to prove.  Just friendship.

Anyway, now I'm musing out loud.  But one last thought.  So many people have told me they can't do what I did yesterday.  That I just won't accept. Almost anyone can, really.  You choose to do it, and you do it.  Now whether you can choose, that is perhaps deeper philosophically and psychologically than I want to go right now.  But I have come to believe that most of us are much stronger than we think we are, capable of much more than we think we are.  Fear is what stops us, not the waves or the back pain or anything else.  So, I join with Nike and say, if you want to, just do it.

Ah, the life

Camping in the Wind River Mountains

And this, my friends (Christy), is why it takes me so gosh dang long to get on here and write a blog! No, not the beautiful mountain, but the effort in getting it here for you to enjoy! Almost every time I do, I get distracted trying to update it, change some of the pictures, etc. And then, two hours later, I haven't even accomplished what I set out to do, with nothing to show for the time! I detest technology! It sucks my life away. BLAHHH!

(My hike up Mt. Monadnock with Bryan and Estiven)

But, let me cease my grumbling and give you a little run-down on my life post-nanny. The PhD life, as it turns out, is the life for me. Whenever I tell that to someone, they chuckle cynically and tell me to wait until it comes time for my dissertation. Yes, I suppose I will not be singing such a blissful tune then, but I prefer to live in the moment at

this moment. I have my own little cubicle space, with a desk and computer, free access to a printer/copier (no limits or supervision - but don't worry, I think we all respect that trust and use is appropriately), as well as a supply closet with office and study supplies free to my perusal. My little office spaceis on the third floor of a building almost at the top of the "Brandeis Hill" that I have so oft bemoaned, and from the large, expansive window, I can see much of the campus, and a greatmany trees. You all know how I love trees. I have so much more time to study (although, this may or may not change - I'll explain), as well as attend extra lectures or classes I want/need to attend. I can't tell you the sheer joy of being able to registe

r for the research skills class, look at my schedule, and know that I can, indeed, go with no conflicting work! I think I am also reveling in the hope that, since I applied for a pass early, I will be able topark in a lot closer to my building, and not have to hoof it all the way up the hill later this year.

But I think I have gotten just a little ahead of myself. I enjoyed one of the best visits to Utah/Wyoming I have had to date. This is partly because m

y visit was interspersed with lovely mountains and hiking, and partly because it was generally conflict-free. James has become much more pleasant since he has decided that he wants to - and to go on his mis-

(Our camping spot on the river - Dad reading in his cot. Also, James and his girlfriend Alex canoeing across the first Green River Lake)

sion. In fact, he is waiting for his call as you read this! Tyson has been a bit humbled by his recent difficulties (turns out he is not the salesman he thought he was, and has to live at home to get some debts paid off), and Cisco is pretty easy-going all the time. But my biggest success was in the preemptive chat I had with my dad beforeheading off to the Wind River Mountains to go camping. He is so tired - he has been working so much overtime. And he gets impatient when we beings of lesser intelligence don't do things when or how he thinks they should be done - and family vacations can be nightmarish when he gets grumpy, and then the rest of us follow. But he made a concerted effort, and we had a great time. I also got to see lots of friends and loved ones, and had wonderful, thought-provoking conversations. It was just the refresher I needed before jumping off into the sea of studies ahead.

(Hiking with Christy in Millcreek Canyon)

Dovie was happy to see me return. I wasn't sure if he would be - my landlady took care of him, and she sent me pictures periodically of him playing delightedly with her dog Ginger. But he spent several minutes trying to peel my face with his tongue, and then chasing me all over the yard. Since then, he has been a bit more clingy (crying when I leave him in the car at the store), and has taken to "sharing" my bed. We play a nightly game of "King of the Bed", and so far I am undefeated. But he is a very good, if restless, dog. And I don't know where on earth he got those ears!

(No text required here)

I should tell you that the administrator of the Schusterman Center (the center at Brandeis dedicated to Israel Studies) just asked me to work for them part time this semester (5-10 hrs/week). This could be a very big blessing - as long as I can keep up with my studies. I said yes, and was received with much warmth and enthusiasm from the staff. They already know me, and just need a little help with data entry, so it should be good. And I do it whenever I have time, so that's also a positive. Maybe I can get a jump on those student loans, eh? If you want to check out my little bio at the Schusterman Center site (as a student, not worker), here's the link.

http://www.brandeis.edu/israelcenter/about/scholars.html

That's all I have to report.

Oh, Those Summer Nights!

To tell the truth, I'm sleeping those summer nights away!  That's because Dovie has some kind of vendetta against sleeping past 6 a.m.  I have slowly gotten him to shut up (but not totally relax - I have to take his collar off so I can't hear him rattling around) between the time he wakes up (5:30) and 6, when I'm willing, though not happy, to roll out of bed.  This means that if I get to bed after midnight, he gets severely and crossly reprimanded in the morning when he begins his whining that tells me he wants to play.  Ugh.

So, he has single-handedly (pawedly) helped me better fulfill one of the commandments: retire to thy bed early, and arise early too.  Yep, he's a blessing.  I just keep reminding myself of that.  Of course, doing anything with friends in the evenings is almost impossible - if I don't wear him out from the hours of 6-10 in the evening, I can forget sleeping!  And traveling is difficult - always have to get someone to watch him.  But in reality, I am still glad to have this boy, and he is very good.  He has a bladder of steel!  He sits in the bathroom for ten hours three days a week, and he doesn't pee!  I certainly can't hold it that long!  When I get home, he gives me a quick love, then races downstairs and pees for about 60 seconds.  That has to be a record of some sort!

He does get bored in that bathroom - poor guy!  Every day when I come home, he has pulled all the towels down.  So far, that is all he has done.  Except for the day he found the toilet paper up on its perch on the window sill.  And when he found it, he made sure to destroy it completely!

Dovie hates the water, but he sure does seem to enjoy mud!  After a particularly gratifying splash in the mud, on one of our runs, I tried to give him a bath by spraying him with the hose outside.  I had tied his leash to the fence, and (with some kind of sadistic, cruel delight) proceeded to spray.  He became so entirely panicked that he broke free of his collar and ran like Shirkan, the tiger, from The Jungle Book.  It took me a full 30 minutes, and his favorite treat, to get him to come near me again.  Then I broke that little bit of trust by throwing him into the bathtub to finish the job.  He behaved better there.  But he still hated every minute, despite the wonderfully warm water and gentle massage I gave him.  He glared at me sullenly the rest of the afternoon.

All the girls in our group.

My WHOLE life doesn't revolve around Dovie.  I went to Young Women's camp as a counselor earlier this month.  The girls were such a delight!  Much more pleasant than I anticipated 13-year-olds being.  I was the enforcer in our group.  But my nightly threats of making any of the loud girls sleep in our cabin seemed to work - I know our girls, and we as counselors, got more sleep than almost any other group.  Miss Taylor still has the look.  So, among the four counselors, I was the hero.  And, surprisingly, the girls liked me too.

Girls Camp never was complete without doing each other's hair, right?

Prepared for the pic.

Unprepared.

In the never-ending search for ways to stay on Clara's good side, I had a stroke of brilliance one day.  One of her FAVORITE things to do with me is to sit with my computer and look at my pictures.  Really.  She loves any and all pictures that I'm in.  So, I thought, maybe she'd like to take pictures and look at them.  Boy did she ever!  We went on a walk, and I (rather daringly, I thought) let her take my camera and shoot at will.  I made sure she kept the string around her wrist, and, remarkably, she didn't drop it - although there were some close calls!  If you ever care to know what you look like from behind as you walk, give the camera to a three-year-old.  I know this is not news to anyone, but that is not my best angle.  But she captured it plentifully.  Along with about every pebble, tree, ant, and her own toes along the way.  I do have to say, however, that she sure wasn't bad for her age!  In the spirit of full-disclosure, I have opted to include some of those shots for your viewing pleasure (sigh).

This is not from the camera day - this is Zoo day.  But I couldn't resist a shot of Clara doing "silly fingers."  She can be so cute!!

And tell me this is not just about the cutest (and drooliest) baby you have ever seen!

By far the happiest news I have to report is that James is currently working on his mission papers.  You may need to go back and read that again.  James.  Yes, God is a God of miracles.  Not that James wasn't always a good kid at heart.  But after what we have been through over the last three years with him, this is truly an Alma the Younger story.  My heart is so full of joy.

Cisco is also making his own positive waves.  He is ranked the #1 overall high school basketball player in the State of Wyoming.  I know, for Wyoming that's not saying much.  But he does have some colleges interested in him.  Unfortunately, his height and less-than-brawny build seem to be a major hang-up, but we're really hoping he can get a scholarship offer or two.

Tyson has come a long way as well.  He is struggling to find his way in the world, but he has become a man in the last couple of years.  He recognizes the value of our family, and the troubles that his biological family have caused him, and has been a good influence for Cisco.  I feel like so many blessings have come to my family this year.  Part of me is a bit frightened that the precarious balance will only last so long, and at any minute, something is going to go crashing down again.  But for now, I am so grateful and feel so happy for where things stand.

That's all for now.  Next blog will be from Wyoming.  Until then, I hope you all are getting more sleep than me!

Back to writing

"Well, well, well," you're thinking.  "Amber finally decided to write something."  Yes, indeed I did.  I know many of you wait on pins and needles to see what exciting thing I'm going to write about next, and by golly, five months is a long time to endure pins and needles!  Forgive me.

You'll be glad to know that I, your old friend Amber, am a Master.  I haven't yet seen the diploma, but according to my father, who is a relatively reliable source, it does exist.  It was sent to the fam in Wyoming.  More than likely, when I go home in August, I will find it there, framed in the hugest and most ornate frame possible, displayed prominently on some wall.  Then I will have to take it down, out of the frame, and hide it in my suitcase (or somewhere else he won't find it) to take it back to Boston with me.  When I got accepted to BYU, many moons ago, I found out about my acceptance as my dad came bursting into my room, disrupting my blissful nap, and bearing the framed acceptance letter he had swiped from the mail and read/framed before I could even see it.  He hasn't changed much.

The last few months have, of course, been busy.  Some of them very challenging, and some even painful, and others just plain great.  I completed my MA thesis - but the submitting part turned out to be nigh unto a nightmare!  Three attempts, and one ruined computer (water spill) later, that has been accomplished.  Regarding the PhD, I was accepted at both Brandeis and UCLA.  I was so delighted - my top two options!  I have succeeded in fooling several people into thinking I am a capable scholar!  I chose to stay with Brandeis - I like the program and people, and especially think Dr. Troen is a wonderful mentor.  (In case you have forgotten, Dr. Troen is the one who figures in the famous "Amber blubbering like a baby because she couldn't figure out how to get her car insured and registered in Massachusetts" incident.)  I am working on research already to get my feet wet in my topic: American Christians and their perceptions of Israel.

I participated in a really cool project for a new friend who was doing her Senior thesis on Mormon women.  She interviewed and she took pics of me, as well as several other women in the stake.  Interestingly, she herself is not LDS, but she is a delightful young woman and I was highly impressed with her maturity, respectfulness, and thoughtfulness.  I will include a link to her project, if you're interested in perusing it.  You will see some of the amazing women I am associated with out here. http://saintsproject.com/

In order to subsist for the summer, I took a job as a nanny for Katie and Chris Laughman - Chris is a counselor in our bishopric.  They have a 2 (almost 3) year old daughter, Clara, and a 5 month old daughter, Maren.  As seems often to be the case, the two girls are opposites in many ways.  Clara is defiant, independent, and fiery.  It took several days for her to warm up to me, but now she cuddles up to me as I read her stories, and we have very few meltdowns.  Yet, on Sundays she still wants nothing to do with me (to be fair, I did convince her to give me a hug after Church this last week.)  We play and go to the park - all kinds of fun things.  Maren is generally content, as long as she is fed and knows where I am.  It keeps me busy, and almost keeps the bills paid.  I'm trying to find other work (tutoring) so I can get the rest of the bills paid - not the least of which is the new computer I had to buy to replace the one I soaked with water.  Grr!  I had anticipated being able to begin paying off some of my debt this summer, but it's looking rather grim - and the finances keep getting more tight.  When the vet yesterday kept trying to persuade me to take my puppy Dovie to doggy school, I had to fight the urge to laugh in her face, or cry, or both, as I considered how much she had no idea how poor I am right now.

But on a much happier note, here are some cool things I have done in recent months: whale watching with Loni Barben; got a puppy, whose name is Dovie; went canoeing in the Concord River with some lovely friends; visited Martha's Vineyard - twice (it turns out, MV is not even a real vineyard, after all.  But it is as beautiful as anyone would expect!); had my mom visit; saw the John Adams house (with Mom); did a sprint triathlon.  Oh, and graduated.

With friends Emily (also Taylor) and Sylvia on a brief stop on our 24-mile bike ride on Martha's Vineyard

Testing out the ocean water.  Ready to swim it!!

That about covers it.  The most recent, and possibly coolest thing I have done, is that triathlon last weekend.  I didn't lost the weight I intended to (heard that one before, you say?  Yeah, me too.  Sigh), and I didn't train as much as I intended to.  And still I survived.  I even ran the whole 5K at the end - stopping about every half mile for Carri and Sylvia to stretch my poor back.  For some reason, it thought it was doing all the work, and kept complaining about it.  My legs, on the other hand, were fine.

One of the benefits of the triathlon was that I got to go down on Thursday night with Sylvia and spend the night in our hotel, and then hang around town all day Friday, with nothing in particular to do.  That, my friends, was a treat!  And even more so when Carri and Kalynn showed up later on Friday evening.  Our time to sit and talk was short but sweet.  We had to get to bed early, and we did (relatively - but I couldn't really sleep - that never happens to me!), but I had so much fun just sitting and talking and enjoying those girls' company.  I don't get the opportunity to enjoy nice evenings with girls like that very often anymore - now that I live alone and such.  If I could live with girls like them, then roommates would be the ticket!  It was the perfect combination of thoughtful, mature, non-drama-queen, involved in the world and serious, but super fun and relaxed people.  Made me want to make such evenings happen more often.

The race itself was also delightful.  I embarrassed myself on the swim - took forever!  That was partly because of the difficulty of swimming in the ocean and in a wetsuit (neither of which I experienced before); partly because I can't swim in a straight line to save my life; and partly because I stopped several times to wait for Sylvia, who was having a really hard time.  But we did it!  The bike was fine.  Again, Sylvia and I were at the tail end - she because of her ancient bike, and me because, well, I just didn't train enough, I guess!  But the run was great.  Painful, but great.  My legs were already tired, and I expected them to feel it, but it was my back!  It does that sometimes, and I don't know why.  I think I haven't been stretching enough lately - that always affects my back.  Anyway, as I said, the girls (minus Kalynn, who couldn't run or walk due to her stress-fractured foot) stuck with my slow and steady pace, and we had a lovely run.  And talk.  The day was warm and beautiful, the company too, and I just had a great time.

There you go.  You're officially caught up.  Isn't mine a good life?  I feel very blessed with rich opportunities, wonderful friends (but alas, not rich ones) and lots of happiness.  Now if I could just find someone to share all that goodness with!  Let me know if you find him!

With Mom at Paul Revere's House

Anyone know what these flowers are called?  I call them beautiful

Mom admiring her hero - Mr. Washington.

Is there a Dr. Taylor in the house?

What d'ya think?  Am I destined to become a professor?  Will my name one day be followed by a "PhD"? Maybe.  It's looking more probable.

So, after a bit of a hiatus (to anyone who actually reads this, I'm sorry), I'm returning and reporting.  And what I have to report on is blessings (brachot, in Hebrew).  Blessings all around!  Miracles!  (Nesim)  James has moved to Salt Lake, where he is living with our cousin for a bit while he gets himself settled.  He is doing so well, I can hardly believe the last two years, which were the trial, to be sure, actually happened.  He is preparing for a mission, attending institute regularly, and trying to make himself worthy of the girl of his dreams.  I couldn't be prouder of him.

Tyson is going through a rough patch, and I'm praying for him all the time.  But he is home, trying to work through his demons, and I believe he will become a great man.  As for the youngest of us Taylors, Cisco is also doing very well.  He is doing well in school and basketball, and the biggest problem is the money it takes to keep up with him.  Tournaments, ball games hours away (requiring a hotel stay at least twice a month for my parents, in addition to the gas), exclusive training camps, etc.  He may never be Michael Jordan (but I won't discount him yet), but he is doing us all proud.  And he's a good kid.  I'm doing my darndest to get him to squeeze an Eagle Scout project in there - that would certainly be the icing, and a great blessing to him, if he would just realize it.

And now for the most recent and most personal blessing.  On Friday I found out that UCLA, my second choice for PhD program in Israel Studies, accepted me.  That is a blessing - but it comes with a great deal of uncertainty as to cost.  California universities are being hard-hit by economic situation there.  Nonetheless, I was very pleased.  But then imagine my sheer joy at the revelation that I have also been accepted at Brandeis.  That comes guaranteed with a fellowship (meaning, most of my living expenses are also funded)!

As I have not yet written this in my journal, and I sometimes copy and paste from the blog to supplement my journal, I'll tell you the story.  I had just finished class - it was 4:50 p.m., and I was walking out of the Schusterman Center (the Center for Israel Studies, where my class was held).  I stopped just in front of Professor Troen's door to get a banana out of my bag (if you will recall, Professor Troen is the professor who a) controls my future at Brandeis; and b) I completely cried to last year, only two weeks ago this time - that whole stupid getting the car registered issue).  He has been much more friendly, less aloof, of late.  Good sign, I suppose.  He stepped out of his office, to my surprise (he's usually gone by that time), and said hello.  He asked which class I had just left, and I told him, and then he said, "Well, what classes are you going to take next year when you're studying here?".  I told him I had a lot of courses I wanted to take, and then hesitated.  Did he say what I thought he said?  Indeed he did.

Not only that, he continued, as if nothing had happened.  I explained that I hadn't heard anything yet, and he said, "You will, and when you do, you need to come talk with me in my office so we can plan out what courses you need to take...(and he continued to talk about which departments I need to do cross-disciplinary studies, etc.)."  Then he proceeded to tell me that with my excellent Hebrew (what?!) I would jet ahead, that I didn't need to take 5 years to graduate (I'll go with that!), and I would stand out in the academic world.

I told him thank you, that I would come and visit with him, and then scuffled away, a bit stunned.  I walked over to my friend Karen's desk (who is a PhD student in Israel Studies already), and told her the story to see if perhaps I misunderstood, or maybe he was just messing with me.  She was ecstatic - assured me he would not do that, and then she and the other girl there congratulated me.  Wow!

A few minutes later Professor Troen was showing someone (I don't know who - someone Israeli) around the Center, and as I walked by he stopped me and introduced me as "another one of our excellent students."  A little stunned again (he is NOT the same professor as before, who never seemed to have time or patience to talk with me, and was always surprised when I did good papers), I said hello, then went on my way.  Later that night I got an email from Jonathon Sarna, the professor who is helping me with my Thesis, and who is basically the Truman Madsen of the Judaic world, congratulating me.  He said the official offer would come shortly, and that they would give me a fellowship of $24,000 a year.  Sure beats the $5000 a year I have been making working as a tutor!  I'll still work a little bit, I'm sure, but I can hardly believe how blessed I have been!!!

Two years ago I decided to put in another round of applications, after failing the first time.  Brandeis was the only school who accepted me.  I had no idea how great of a school Brandeis is.  Heck, I had no idea Brandeis even existed!  I only knew I wanted to study Israel - anyone who has known me for a long time knows that this has been my dream for a long time.  Yet I had no idea how to go about it.  But I took my naive little steps forward, and Heavenly Father carried me the rest of the way.  He still is carrying me.  I don't deserve it.  I suppose none of us deserve the blessing, the abundant blessings we receive.  Mosiah got it right - we just can never hope to be profitable servants.  But I am grateful.

So, as I close, I want to share a few of the pictures of recent good times.   You'll notice that James seems to have more than his share of camera-time, but he is the brother that seems to have time to do stuff with me the most.  I intend to change that - and get some equally fun pics with the rest of them.  The other pics are random memories of the last year - Lilac Fest, Sister Missionaries out here in Boston, whom I love, fun with Patty and her girls, Seder dinner with Ruth last April, etc.

Thank you all for your prayers, love and support.  This isn't the end - but your prayers and support have brought me here to the beginning of another great adventure.