Angela, Bridger, moi

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Taking Back Alaska

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Bear watching/clam digging in Alaska I came to Salt Lake at the tail end of the worst 6 months of my life.  After a huge disappointment in the love department I managed to still attend enough classes and beg for enough extra time to finish enough final papers to graduate with my masters degree.  For months after I felt the pressure and feelings of failure of not being able to find a job. I separated my shoulder and so I was not able to run or hike or bike or play frisbee or even swim...basically everything that keeps me happy, healthy, and connected.  I tried to deal with it...and by that I mean I watched every episode of Parks and Recreation.  I spent hours applying for jobs and more hours sitting in parks reading, hoping no one could tell how pathetic I felt. I did the mind-numbing walk/run up and down 'the Y' over and over because it was the only thing I could do with my injury that was challenging but safe.  I was offered a job in St. George.  ...
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my broken heart

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Tonight is among the first chilly nights of Fall.  I decide to wear the almost-too-warm but irresistibly soft zebra stripe pajamas my mom just sent me with my purple jacket as I lay under the stars on my lawn.  Just thinking.  Wondering.  I give myself a few hours to try to feel better...and then it is 11.  I go inside and lay on my bed.  I don't know what has been wrong with me lately.  I ask Heavenly Father, or maybe I'm really asking myself, "What is the source of all this pain I feel?"  I have everything to be grateful for.  Everything.  But I still feel this gnawing pain for something I can't escape and can't identify.  I feel my mind slipping over a certain emotional place every time I try to pin-point it.  It's hard to describe.  There's something there making me sad and someday I'll figure out what it is. A tear slips out of the corner of my eye, so slowly that it dries before it falls to the pillow. ...
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Improvisation and recapituation

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When I was a freshman in high school, I was second chair trumpet in the concert band, but the really good kids, they were in the jazz band .  The jazz band was the elite, cool band who met before school even started.  I remember that year when the jazz band came back from the UAF jazz festival where Ingrid Jensen (professional trumpet player) had been the featured artist.  I remember them trying to imitate how she played, and talking about all the things they had learned, and all the fun they had on the trip.  I though to myself, "I am NOT missing out on that next year!  I'm joining the jazz band!"  Aaaand I did. From my sophomore year on I got to play lead in the concert and jazz band.  I found myself spending extra hours before and after school in the band room practicing, taking lessons, playing around with different instruments, and getting to know music.  I never went anywhere without my trumpet, just in case I found a spare moment to play. ...
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