My first BYU writing assignment, only minorly edited.

I have always preferred mountain hikes to beach strolls. Something about smooth sailing does not float my boat. Footstep after footstep of the climb is taxing, but once I chose a path only a good mistake will make me stop and reevaluate my situation. That's not to say I shun advice. I seek it. The errors and successes of my friends have lead me to the path on which I trek. They have taught me a love for the steeper climbs. So now, I lace up my boots in preparation and anticipation for what lies ahead.

(Ok, so there was a lot of editing, but it's essentially a combination of my first and second drafts.)

Apparently I've started a poetry competition in my apartment.

So Sarah told Laura that she could write better popsicle poem than Laura. I refuse to judge. Here's Sarah's poems. The first one rhymes. The second one "is deep."

Popsicle Delight
by Que Sera Sarah

Orange, yellow, blue
Colors everywhere
Red and green too
Sticky in my hair

Juicy, soft, bright
Frozen taste of sun
Don’t take a bite
Or it will soon be done

Sweet, drippy, cold
On a summer’s day
A flavor so bold
I could melt away

Runny, grand, wet
Finished just right
A treat you can’t forget
Popsicle delight!


Popsicle Delight

Orange, yellow, blue
Colors everywhere
Red and green too
Sticky in my hair

Juicy, soft, bright
Frozen taste of sun
Don’t take a bite
Or it will soon be done

Sweet, drippy, cold
On a summer’s day
A flavor so bold
I could melt away

Runny, grand, wet
Finished just right
A treat you can’t forget
Popsicle delight!


Popsicle
Also by Que Sera Sarah.

Bright
Out of its prison of white
Orange and red
Perhaps blue
But altogether too new
Too cold
The colors too bold

Sweet
The colors begin to slide
Your tongue they ride
All alive
The flavors they now can drive
Sublime
Swirling in its prime

Soft
Melting dullness starts to reign
The warmth can explain
Growing weak
It can’t be stopped; juices leak
Drip away
Stick falls where it may

Yum yum dripping juice.

Popsicle Madness
another poem about me by Laura Kate

Popsicles are genius
I love them to death
They brighten my day
with colors on my tongue
My favorite part of the
day is licking the juice
with my fingers all sticky
When it melts to the floor
I am sad to no end
But that never happens
it is in my stomach
way before then
Popsicles are my best friends

Poem About Me. Because I am that hackin' AWESOME.

Passionate About Popcorn
By Laura Kate

Passion.
Popcorn.
They go hand in hand,
Or so I think.
When my need for popcorn
Grows too strong,
I throw a bag in the microwave
Or pop some in my popper.
My love for popcorn grows with each bite.
It fulfills my need,
Popcorn is my passion.
Popcorn.
Passion.

The Questions I'll Never Answer

If money didn't matter, if you knew you were smart enough, if no one took offense, if you could keep every promise, if you were strong enough, if you had enough time, if everything depended on now, if magic were real, if the world only knew good, if all the rain-drops were lemon-drops and gumdrops, if today were your last day, if all your friends were true friends, if life was forever, if the words "I love you" really meant something more than just words, if you could go anywhere, if you could do anything, if you could create something, if you had one wish, if Dr. Seuss was the only sane person, if bloggers ruled the world, if there were no distractions, if you had all the answers, if you had no need to fear, if you knew you could not fail what would you do?

Why I will be eating pistachio pudding on St. Patrick's Day.

I'm an Irish dancer. This year is the first time since I was five that I've been away from my dance school for the St. Patty's season. (Yeah, no joke. It's a whole season of its own.) I've been getting a bit nostalgic for all the little things that make March March. (Thanks Power Academy for letting me be in the parade and a show with you.) I've been trying to think of ways to celebrate St. Pat's this year and I think the best thing I have come up with is pistachio pudding. Just hear me out...erm...read it.
I remember some of the most insignificant things from Kindergarten. This would be one of those stories. On St. Pat's the leprechauns left us little jars (baby-food sized) of white powder. (Whoa, I just realized what the implications of that could be. Haha. No worries though.) Ms. Lamb and Ms. Weathers took us to the cafetorium (it had a stage) and poured milk in our jars. Then we shook the jars up and it became this white goop, which we proceeded to eat. It was sweet and delicious. There was definitely not enough in those tiny jars. Basically, the leprechauns left us magical green gloop powder. Until a couple years ago I had mostly forgotten about it, but I still didn't know what the magic powder was.
Then, I was walking through the grocery store and I see pistachio pudding. I have an imaginary giggle fit. THAT'S IT! I finally figured out the mystery of Kindergarten. (Who's ever heard of pistachio pudding anyway?)
So this year, I picked up my package of instant pistachio pudding and will be eating it to celebrate Christianity being brought to Ireland. Thanks St. Patrick for giving me a good excuse to eat this bizarre treat.

My Snow Blog.

Oh philosophy, how you take over my life when I don't want you. Yes, this blog will turn into some kind of a self philosophy discussion at about a seven-year-old's level. Hang on for the ride and I'll give you something special, like a high five.

Anyway, we went skiing on Friday. Way cool. And gorgeous. Cool and gorgeous.I like that combination. It was snowing and the ground was snow. (Not covered in snow. It was snow.)

So today, I was staring out the window in church, (thanks Harmon building) looking at the snow and it got me thinking. Here's what I wrote. Be warned, it's kind of stream-of-conscience-ish. That should strike fear into your heart.

(ahem)

"I'm looking at the snow. It's everywhere. I mean it. Thank you Utah. Now, if I focus on one cubic centimeter of snow, how many snow flakes are in that small area? I don't know, but it is definitely a lot more than I want to count. Now, multiply that times a whole lot and you basically have a ton of snow. And each little snow flake had to be created individually. Holy cow, wait what? I think of snow as a whole, but there are mazillions of individual flakes everywhere I focus my eye.
"Maybe, I do the same to other things. Maybe I see myself as one snow flake. Hey, I'm pretty and cool and shiny and white and glittery. Only problem is I'm so busy noticing myself a just one snow flake that I forget that the rest of the snow is actually a bunch of individual snow flakes too. Wowie."

Yessum, those are the kinds of things I think of during Relief Society. Interestingly though, I payed enough attention to notice that the lesson was about the Creation and they did take time to talk about what God created for us and why he would do something that cool. HA! I beat them to it and stayed on topic in my own little bubble without noticing I was doing that.