A Little Something Sweeney: Family. Friends. Fiction. Food.

Well, if you ask me (but you didn't), change is definitely in the air. Some people might say it's because Spring has sprung. I however, will chalk it up to having to do mostly with the changing of my blog. New design, and new word (spoiler alert* it's FOOD) in the title. The makeover mostly has to do with the fact that I love juxtaposing unrelated concepts. What does being scared Sweenless have to do with a flyaway dandelion? Not a blessed thing, unless you count the fact that I'm always a little worried whenever I blow on one and not all the little florets get blasted loose from the stem. And although the emotion of worry can eventually lead to fear, I don't think we've reached that point just yet. I just liked the idea of shaking things up a bit. And I love, love, LOVE food, so I thought it would be very appropriate to declare my affection openly. That seems to be the thing to do nowadays. But what about the other words I've singled out in the title to d...

OK, so every once in awhile, we are forced into retrospection; usually when there is nothing more interesting to occupy our minds. Take for example, the new Man of Steele movie. In spite of my opinion that Superman is the least interesting of all superheroes, the trailer for this reboot is drawing my attention like the Magna Doodle pens do to the little lead beads. But in the absence of new movie trailers, memes, or gossip, usually we are only left with reflection of the past and inquiries of the future, all to avoid dwelling on the present task at hand.   Such is life as the Home Depot water girl. Many people pass me as I water and playfully comment, "wow, that would be a great job to have!" That's what I usually think about teachers or politicians or other hot shots (in Spanish, you'd say 'peces gordos,' which means "fat fish"). Not that I don't enjoy my job, but it is A LOT of water. And it's not particularly brain-stimulating. Which g...

Wow... so I was reading through my latest entries, trying to clean up the I-only-have-a-half-hour-to-pump-out-this-blog harried grammar of my mission days, and realized I left a few gaping holes. I didn't even say what happened during my final days as a missionary. Well, for starters, Quelito DID get baptized, and it was amazing. He's so cute. It was a great way to end my second-to-the-last day as a missionary. Left to Right: Me, Quelito, Hna. Bryant, and Denise, the mom And on my actual, legitimate last day (a Sunday), I was asked to give my actual, legitimate LAST talk in church. This assignment was SO last minute, and considering I'd already given my testimony the week before in church, AND a talk the week before that, I was a little burnt out. So I just winged it, which I have never done before. And it turned out well. When it comes to things we really care about/believe, usually the unscripted stuff turns out better. Of course, you still have to study and prep...

Wow, I'm back. But no, really back, like, in charge of my own ship and everything. Well, if you can compare my keyboard to a helm, and being back with the fam again to the ol' ball and chain (er, I mean, anchor), then I guess I can say it feels pretty good to be back on the good ship bloggernaut. O sea, it's sorta a big mix of feelings. Like the surprise goody bags Hna. Bryant loves getting at 7-11 with her brother. I just never know what I'm gonna pull out next from day-to-day. And there I go again, recounting a mission experience/companion/memory. I've come to a conclusion: people want to here about your mission... in theory. On your blog. In small doses. But I think that was one of my biggest weird factors upon coming home. I always thought it would be so natural to say, "oh how cool, milk from a jug and not a box," or "hey, the light comes on when I flip this switch... and stays on. You spoileds have REAL 24 hour light?!" People would thin...

But the truth is, I will leave you- These have been my wild days, and it´s been a mad existence. But I´ve kept my promise, now keep your distance. Ha! Sorta kidding. But it's rather confounding that I´m officially writing my last blog from this country. Well, I guess like Justin Bieber, I should never say never, or the world "last," for that matter. But I´m just assumin´... Anyway, I will do a best for this week´s entry, cuz, well, that´s the best way to do it on a time-crunch budget. Best of Tourism- I got to see the castle built for Trujillo, the famous dictator of this country from 1931-1961. He was a pretty disgusting human being. But his house was cool. Of course, he didn´t think so, so the guy that designed it for him had to flee to Canada to avoid execution. Canada or death? Ha! Kidding again. But seriously, it was a neat little trip, even though it sits on top of a very large hill and was quite the hike to reach, and even though after Trujillo ...

Hey, for anyone listening out there, there, there...it´s your good points that define you and your flaws that refine you. But is it not true? I´m not sure I made up this little piece of inspiration; I´m sure there has been something similar or the same already said. But the idea remains. How much easier is it to notice the insultable details, or at least to focus on them? Who cares if her butt looks twice it´s size in those horizontally-striped pants or if his Cologne smells more like sewage than sexy? A+ for effort, people. The best type of compliment is the sincere one said so others can hear. The best sort of helpful, corrective advice is given respectfully, so only the person for whom it is intended can hear. But here´s to enjoying both fabulous feature and faux paus flaws. And speaking of giving compliments, should I just go ahead and gift one to myself? Why, don´t mind if I do! I´ve made it, people. I´ve reached the top. Or as my good friends Queen would say, ...

Well, normally I´d say that the mission isn´t a lovely stroll through the park- but sometimes it is. At least, it was yesterday. Sometimes on the mission, you just find yourself with a lot of time on your hands and few people to teach, so Hna. Bryant and I decided to go to a park situated close to a grandiose, honey mustard Catholic church. We gave out pass-along cards and just told everyone we could find about the church. We met groups of people from Santiago (the more northern part of this country) that were touring San Cristobal, and another man who spoke French and English but no Spanish, and yet, somehow, was hanging out with all Dominicans who don´t speak English. Wonders never cease. The encounter that wins for most amusing and flustering was a lady who was like, "I´ve always wondered about the part of your name that says "of latter-day saints. Do you believe that we can know exactly when Jesus will come again?" She was Catholic, so I think she was both curious a...