Friday, August 31, 2012

honest thoughts on love...

There are many different kinds of love. And for every kind, there are different forms of expression and, in turn, understanding of those expressions.

Right now, I am confused by two different kinds of love because finding the boundary is difficult to do. How do you know when you have accidentally crossed the line between friendship love and more than friendship love? How do you keep things friendly so as not to cause problems or push someone away?

The worst part of realizing how much you love someone is wanting desperately to tell them, but being afraid of losing their friendship. And the other worst part is trying to keep it friendly and being so terrified of those lines that really aren't lines. There's no black and white. It's impossible for me to tell what could be seen as "just friends" and what could be taken as "crap...she cares about me too much and I'm out of here." It all seems like such a fuzzy, grey area. I constantly check myself to be sure that my expressions of affection can't be taken as anything more than genuine friendship. Then on the flip side, I kind of want those expressions to be taken as more than "love ya, dude." Especially because I wish with all my heart that I wasn't so afraid to take a chance.

There. I said it. I'm to the point where I wish so much that things would work out. As much as I want that, though, I'm terrified to say anything. In some ways, it's better to not speak. It's better to keep things as they are -- if things continue as they are, then there's no "relationship stuff" that needs to be considered. It'll just stay the same.

Once upon this Monday, I was looking forward to the weekend. Getting to Friday was the only thing that was keeping me from having a complete emotional breakdown. Now, I'm dreading this. I'm dreading having to work so hard to keep myself in check, because when I love someone it becomes very difficult not to accidentally let things slip. I'll use the wrong intonation when saying "I love you" that causes someone to pause and think, or I'll subconsciously touch someone's hand a little too long. And I'm dreading that I'll finally be forced to discuss this. It's a conversation I don't want to have, because I don't know how to go about it. And I don't want to deal with the potential "I love you, but..." explanation. 

Feeling so much love and being unable to express it fully is a very hard thing. I've loved people before -- not like this, though. This is something more than before. It's actually quite terrifying, to care this much about another person. It's terrifying and wonderful all at the same time. I don't know how to describe it. It's just what it is.

finally Friday...

This has been one of the hardest weeks I've had in a very long time.

It hasn't even been school that's been the biggest stress (until this morning). It's just going to classes, going to work between classes, and doing homework. Same old, same old. Sure, it's not easy, and it's hard to read textbooks when your head hurts and your vision blurs, but you know? There are worse things than school. Much worse things.

Being stressed like this is no good. I keep trying to relax and focus on the good things. Every time I turn around, though, it seems that something goes wrong. I keep being put in positions where I must stand up for what I believe, and then am faced with the consequences for my actions -- friends being hurt and angry, being embarrassed in front of classmates and coworkers, feelings of guilt and insecurity -- each time I do the right thing, I end up being the bad guy.

Not always, I'll admit. The people who really matter haven't been upset with me so far. In fact, they've told me multiple times that I did the right thing, and that I have their complete trust. Others I'm not sure of, because at this point I don't know what their reaction to my decisions have been. I wasn't there to see the reaction. I just did what I thought was right. And it was so hard. Let me tell you, it was so hard.

Get through one more day. At five o'clock, the week is over. I'm going shopping, and I'm doing chores, and I'm going to bed early. Why? Because I can! And because I want to. After all...I'm the girl who looks forward to mopping her kitchen floor every week. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it goes along with what a new coworker told me yesterday at the Writing Center. She commented that I was a nice person, and I asked her how she could tell. "Dude -- you held hands for the first time this summer, you're wearing lavender nail polish, you smile at everyone, and you don't want to kiss anyone unless it really, really means something. Those are nice people things. Especially the lavender nail polish. You should wear it all the time."

I don't know if she was being serious or if she was making fun of me a little bit, but I like to think she was serious. I'm sure if she knew that I like to mop floors she'd add that to the list of reasons why I'm easily recognized as a nice person. As for the lavender nail polish, well. I like it. I think it's pretty. But...I think I'll try baby pink next. Just to shake things up. Because, you know, baby pink is so rocking it creates earthquakes -- didn't you know that?

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

day 3...

Currently on hour 70 of one of the worst headaches I've ever had in my whole life. So far I've been through one 50 count bottle of Ibuprofen in the last 4 days. Wondering if it's even helping anymore...I honestly don't know why this is happening. I'm told it's most likely stress -- that is very possible. Incredibly possible. Here's the short list of stress inducing things:

1. An unexpected guest in my house who was invited by my roommate who moved out a week ago. This guest is a) staying longer than I was told she would, b) does not have my landlord's permission to be in the house, c) has been keeping me up all night due to her need to watch movies late at night with the sound up because "I get so bored," and d) invites her family members to stay in the master bedroom, again without permission from the landlord. I contacted my landlord and told her what's going on, and she said she'll take care of it. I just hope she isn't mad at me.

2. More things happened with Callie over the weekend. It's getting better though, but it's taking a long time and a lot of effort on my part. I'm very frustrated because I don't have time to talk to her every minute of the day, or spend time with her, and I really  need to try and sleep when I can. Luckily she's starting to get things rolling and we're heading in a good direction.

3. I'm supposed to go swimming with someone this weekend. I don't have a swimming suit that I feel comfortable in and I can't find one online that can be here in four days (shipping options are only 10-14 business days at all of the places I've looked). I'll go look for one tonight probably, but still. I look terrible in a swimming suit. Not okay.

4. Balancing school and work is very, very difficult. I ended up dropping one of my classes because I'm pretty sure I won't be able to handle the homework and work 20 hours a week. So far I've been getting all of the reading done after school and work, and during my breaks during the day. But it's a tight schedule. I need to get really good grades, and I'm worried that I won't do as well as I need to.

5. My health isn't improving very fast. Something is always hurting, particularly my head. It makes it hard to get my homework done, because sunlight and artificial light hurt my eyes, as does reading. If I tilt my head down for too long or look to the side, my eyes start blurring and I get very dizzy. It's rather frustrating.

I'll make it work. Things will be okay. I'm just doing the best that I can and trying to take care of myself as well. Things will work out.

Monday, August 27, 2012

get involved...

Once upon a time, BYU's President Samuelson said, "Get involved during your time here at BYU." Shortly after, the president of the student association on campus said, "Take the time to get involved at the Y." Then, my mom said, "Go out and do some stuff besides school while you're here!" And then, one of my professors said, "Do things here that will help you learn from others, meet new people, gain greater perspective, and enrich your educational experience."

Well. With so many people telling me the same thing, how could I refuse? I sure tried to refuse. Who in their right minds would want to go out and get involved? That takes time! It requires meeting people...and talking to them! Then suddenly, all of these different, new things caught my eye. Random things, too.

Like the American Studies Student Council -- I'm in the program, so why not go to the meeting on Thursday and check it out? Or babysitting for a professor in the English department -- why not? They'll be paying me, and their kids are adorable. Gee, how about checking the audition board just for kicks while walking around campus between classes (I had three hours to kill today). Oh, they're doing Songs for A New World this fall? Huh. Why not try out? I'm free that night.

All of the sudden I've got so many things I'm looking into and trying for -- I'm a bit freaked out. I kind of forgot that little thing called time. Not to mention work. And homework (oh, homework). And housework. And, you know. Maybe eating food.

My head hurts. It really, really hurts. I keep looking at my schedule (ugh) and just wondering how I'm going to get everything done. But do I stop? No. I just add some more right on top of it! I shouldn't worry about things yet though. I mean, sure. Try out, go to the meeting and see how it goes, but if I don't make those things, then I don't have anything to worry about. It's if I actually make it that could be a potential problem -- if I don't make it, it's not a part of my life anyway.

Don't sign up for things on the first day of school when you're bored, because once school gets underway, you won't be bored for long.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

don't do drugs...

One year ago, the family practitioner at the clinic handed me a prescription and said, "This is for you to use only when necessary." I read the information on the paper and didn't understand most of it (nor could I read it -- doctor handwriting). After dropping it off at the pharmacy and waiting for an hour, I received a white bag with a little bottle inside of it. When I pulled the bottle out and read the label, I was surprised to see that the pills were none other than the prescription pain medication Lortab.

In the past  year, I have only used the Lortab twice. Both times were when I honestly could not function due to the pain I was experiencing. There have been times when I was tempted to use it because my body hurt so much, but I was always able to tell myself, "It could be worse, you know. It's not really necessary at the moment."

That's what I kept telling myself yesterday, from the moment I awoke at 6am due to the pain radiating through my whole body. As the day progressed and after taking as much Ibuprofen as I could without poisoning myself, I couldn't take it anymore. 

Honestly, I don't remember much of what happened yesterday. I vaguely recall agreeing to go swimming with a friend next Monday morning on Labor Day -- at least, I think that I did. And I also vaguely remember my sister coming over to have lunch with me. And I vaguely remember someone walking on the roof of my house (they were speaking Spanish, so I think they were the roofers the complex owners hired to patch holes in the tiles). Other than that I only remember feeling like I had television static in my brain and snowflakes in front of my eyes. 

Usually when I've taken Lortab, it puts me to sleep for 12 to 14 hours. This time I didn't feel particularly tired. It was weird. It's weird today, too. I'm feeling a bit hungover. Granted, I've never actually been hungover so I don't really know what it's like, but this is just bizarre. My head is still fuzzy, my stomach hurts, and I have to focus really hard on whatever I'm doing or I cannot figure out what's going on. Not to mention driving was a terrifying experience. Hey, you do what you gotta do. Good thing it was only a 2 minute drive to work and 2 minutes back. I didn't go grocery shopping, so I was mostly smart.

The pain hasn't gone away, either. The Lortab numbed everything very well for about three hours yesterday, but then it stopped working. Fuzzy brain and seizing muscles were not pleasant. Still isn't pleasant! 

Dad told me not to take the Lortab again for awhile because "that stuff can be very addicting." To which I reply, are you serious? Why on earth would anyone want to feel like that all the time? It's absolutely miserable! It's been over 24 hours since I first took the pill and I still feel awful. It boggles my mind that anyone would voluntarily seek out a drug that makes one so very...fuzzy (it's really the only word that I can think of that describes the way this feels).

I'd be a terrible drug addict. I get very tired of the side effects and never want to take the stuff again. It helped for a little while -- it was so great to not hurt for a few hours. I'm kind of rethinking the necessity of the pain killer though. I'd almost rather deal with the pain than take the drug. The after effects suck.

As a side note, I feel so anxious all of the sudden. Really insecure and kind of freaking out, but I don't know why. Actually, it's almost funny -- the wind is blowing and whistling around my house, and I keep jumping at noises and stuff (like that's new?). Alternately jittery and sluggish. 

Don't do drugs. They screw you up. Even if they appear necessary, I'm thinking that my original philosophy is the better way to go: whenever possible, do not take pills. Medication doesn't solve your problems!

we are BYU...

Yep. I'm in there somewhere. Row 35 on the right hand side of the photo. Me and my Y-Group Students had a blast sitting up there!

Time lapse video. See if you can spot us doing the wave.

Friday, August 24, 2012


Have you ever thought about the word "bedridden?" There's the word "bed," obviously, and then "ridden." If you look at them separately, it seems like the whole word should mean "rid of bed."

Because I was curious, I looked up the actual definition of the word "ridden" and found that there is no connection to "rid of" at all. It's more like this: full of, overwhelmed by, past tense of the verb "to ride." You get the idea.

So now I wonder, am I full of the bed, or is the bed full of me?

Duh. I know the answer to that, promise. In any case, I'm stuck in bed again. I got up and started getting ready for New Student Orientation this morning (which is what I've been doing all week), but found myself getting progressively worse. The four Ibuprofen I'd taken an hour before I actually got out of bed weren't doing much. After fixing everything up with the other two group leaders and making sure things were taken care of for the day, I went back to bed and have been here ever since.

It's not so bad when I'm not moving. Once I start walking around and doing stuff, good grief. Not sure what is going on in there! This body of mine has got some issues for sure.

Bedridden. I almost wish it meant "rid of bed." Being in bed is boring! Or as Parker says, "Bed is merely a place one goes to waste time."

Really, though. I have so much to do. The house is a disaster (or at least it is according to me and my outrageous need to keep things spotless -- to others it looks just fine), I don't know where any of my classrooms at school are, I need to pick up my paycheck and go grocery shopping, I don't have a backpack (the one I've used since third grade is long past retirement) or any school supplies, my housing waiver isn't finished and I don't have a printer at my place to get it ready, I'm totally ditching my NSO students, GAH!

The other thing is that worrying makes the pain worse. I just need to stop worrying and rest. Oh, and by the way. I just got off the phone with the receptionist at the doctor's office. My appointment is in two weeks. First time ever scheduling a doctor's appointment for myself. I made one for Hannah last week at the clinic, but never one for me.

Growing up, people. And now back to bed. Peace.

Monday, August 20, 2012

you've got (no) mail...

One of the most important rules in my life has always been this: never watch a "girl movie" alone. Up until two weeks ago, that was an easy rule to keep. Sure, I watch movies alone all the time. They're more along the lines of Mulan and Captain America and Megamind. Last week I had a sudden desire to watch Leap Year. I'm guessing that part of the reason was because it had been a bit of a revealing weekend (revealing as in I learned a lot about the way I feel about certain things) and I just wanted to watch someone's love story fall into place. Not to mention Leap Year makes me laugh. I wanted to laugh.

Pretty soon other movies crept their way off the library shelves and into my book bag. Juno, Sydney White, When in Rome, The Prince & Me -- those were last week's films that I watched during my evenings at home alone on the couch. I had only seen When in Rome, so the others were an adventure. Adventures that didn't go as I had planned.

I'll admit it. I teared up a little bit and felt alternately giddy and depressed. I decided that watching those movies had been a horrible idea and that it was back to the rules again: no chick flicks by myself.

Then...well. After a spontaneous girl date with Hannah to The Chocolate and indulging in decadent, delicious, delightful sweeties (hers a large slab [yes, slab, not piece] of dark chocolate cake with inch thick frosting and mine a luscious lemon bar with powdered sugar), I had a hankering for one of my favorite movies of all time: You've Got Mail. Kathleen Kelly is one of my favorite characters in film (not to mention I adore her wardrobe) and I love to hate and then fall in love with Joe Fox (every time).

Now, I often hear girls use the phrase, "Oh my goodness, I bawled during that movie!" I have never been able to apply that to me in regards to a chick flick. I've teared up (as I mentioned before), but the only times I've ever bawled during a movie were when I saw The Fellowship of the Ring for the first time and realized Boromir was going to die, and probably when Pinocchio got swallowed by the whale -- but that was out of fear, which is an entirely different emotion (I got very scared by many movies when I was younger). Tonight, though, I was crying throughout the ENTIRE. MOVIE.

I cried when Kathleen wrote about wanting her mom back. I cried about writing to the void and saying good-night to no one. I cried when Kathleen said, "There's no one else. There's only a dream of someone else." I cried when Joe apologized to Kathleen in the email as himself, and I cried even harder when he said, "Talk to me. I'm here." I cried when the store closed and when Joe visited Kathleen when she was sick. I cried when Joe confessed his wish to Kathleen and she left. And then I sobbed at the end -- and it's not even a sad ending! I literally took a pillow off of the couch and smacked myself in the face with it while screaming in frustration, and then sobbed during all of the credits.

Stupid. Right? So incredibly stupid. I don't cry during movies, especially not during chick flicks. Heck, I don't even cry very much during anything, not even when I really want to.

What is WRONG with me?! First, I confessed all of these dark worries and fears and issues to a friend yesterday. Then I poured my heart out to Hannah at the dessert cafe and told her things I've never told anyone but the air and my journal -- more things that I have wished that I could say to someone but have never dared to. Now I spent two hours bawling my eyes out during one of my favorite happy movies, curled up on the couch holding onto a pillow for dear life.

I'm thinking that a second feature of While You Were Sleeping is a very bad idea. Confessions of a Shopaholic can't be much better. Maybe I'll borrow dad's copy of Silverado or something -- guns, horses, fist fights, saloons, cowboys -- sounds like a better idea to me.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

"you weren't alone for long..."

Every once in awhile one of my primary students will say something that leaves me speechless. Sometimes I'm amazed at the sincerity of what they're saying, and the absolute truth in it. I often find myself so grateful for their insights. Many times I wish I could go back to that time, when the world was untainted by the worries and cares I have now, before trust was broken and fear set in.

My class has four students -- three boys, one girl. Sophie is a precocious, talkative, practical little thing. She always has something to say, and she knows many of the scripture stories as well as or better than I do. She also has a very clear picture of life and love. Sometimes the things she says shock me, not in a bad way but in a surprised and "wow, you're seven and you just totally blew my mind" kind of way. For example:

During our lesson today (love one another), I told a story about a time when someone did me a kindness and reminded me that even though I felt alone, the Lord was still aware of me. Sophie raised her hand and said she had something to share. I don't remember the exact words, but it went something like this:

"Even when you feel alone, you're really not. Like the time when my mom accidentally left me at the library. I was so scared and I cried and cried and cried, but then I remembered all of the other times I'd been lost. Any time I'd been lost before, I hadn't been lost for long. My mom always came and found me -- it might have been five minutes, or two, or even just thirty seconds -- but she always found me again. And it's okay to cry, because that happens when you're alone and lost and scared, but just because you feel that way doesn't mean that you're not loved. You're never lost for long. When you feel like that, you can remember the times you felt sad or scared before and how it wasn't forever. You weren't alone for long. Because someone will always come and find you."

It's not often that the words of a seven year old can leave me speechless and near tears -- it was one of those little miracle moments that come around when you least expect them, and when you need them the most.


...thinking... confused on so many much so that I just try not to think starts soon...soon as in way too soon
...there is way too much good music to enjoy it all fast enough -- same goes for books
...not sure why all of these engagements, weddings, and newborns make me kind of sad inside I really feel left out or would I even want to go to things if I got invited anyway? maybe both...
...dunno how I'm going to survive the upcoming semester -- try not to stress out before you get your syllabi, okay, kiddo?
...did I just call myself kiddo? was so much easier to handle things before you held me


...I've been cast as Zombie #10 in the music video -- kinda glad I went back and auditioned because this could be super fun
...made Cranberry BBQ meatballs in the crock pot yesterday and they were super delicious over rice
...DIDN'T answer a text message from someone and didn't even feel super guilty about it
...closed a chapter in my book of life, and will not be looking back -- wishing you the best of luck, Garrett (you may know him as Aries) a call from Hannah yesterday morning asking me to come to the doctor's office where she was awaiting a verdict on her head injury -- yes, I was the one who held her hand while she got stitches and yes, I made it through the whole procedure without passing out (which is a huge deal for me [she's fine, by the way])
...inflated SO. MANY. BALLOONS. at work the past three days -- so over that dealio
...didn't do my room mate's dishes (did my own)
...cleaned the windows in the kitchen and the hallway -- pretty sure the interior windows haven't been cleaned in at least three years...gross
...watched The Swan Princess with Alyssa tonight -- "You should write a book: How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less."
...5:30am phone calls are a great way to start your day
...5:00pm phone calls are a great way to get through an afternoon
...picked up my textbooks -- all 19 of them (and they are so not worth three hundred and sixty-one dollars)
...another job: babysitting for a professor once or twice a week on my evenings off during the school year -- two adorable kids, $40-$50 a night, kids go to bed at 8pm, did I mention the kids are adorable?


...absolutely irritated with everything about people (or most people) and totally unsure why peace with some parts of my life, like the fact that the whole Garrett thing is mostly over for me
...high anxiety due to my trip to the college today -- I don't want to go back to school...I so do not want to go back to school with 33,000 students and hours of homework and everything that college entails
...better about dad's situation because things are definitely looking up
...missing you a lot -- darn you it would be great to throw something and listen to it shatter (but that is violent and I won't do it)
...sleep deprived!

Friday, August 17, 2012

He made my life better...

via Pinterest

While the scripture reference isn't from the King James translation that I have, I know that this principle is true. While God might not necessarily cause a person pain, he will not leave us alone -- if something (or someone) hurts us, or is taken from us, he'll give us something better. He tells us that he desires happiness for each of his children, that this is his "work and my glory, to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man" (Moses 1:39) for "men are, that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25). 

I'll admit it. Sometimes life just sucks. Joy seems like something you find in a movie or a book, fabricated and written in such a way that everything works out perfectly. That isn't how real life is though. I'm sure everyone knows this. Things happen. We lose things or we can't make something work -- games, jobs, scholarships, friendships, relationships -- and we don't know why.

In the Bible, Job said that sometimes the Lord "taketh away, who can hinder him?" (Job 9:12). We often don't know why things get "taken away" from us, or why we're experiencing the things we are. Usually these are things that are out of our control. We didn't mean to lose something, and mean for it to be taken away or fall apart. But you know what? Sometimes, God removes things from our lives to give us something better. He knows best what will make us happy -- maybe that means taking away someone you thought would be in your life forever. Maybe that means God stepping aside just enough for you to get hurt, allowing you to see that the person or thing isn't good for you. Or maybe sometimes, things just happen and there isn't really a reason for it -- however, God can take any situation, even one that just happens, and use it to teach us and help us grow. In the end, we'll be happy.

The Lord doesn't leave us to do it alone. Even though things hurt and people do stupid things or manipulate you or you find yourself alone, you're not alone. Sometimes we don't know why things are happening to us. Sometimes there isn't a good reason. You may feel like you're drowning in emotions. You may feel betrayed, lost, broken, hopeless, helpless, alone, afraid, and you have no idea how to get out of it. It could be caused by a person, or by a circumstance, or by your own mind. But the Lord has promised you that if you do as he asks, he won't leave you alone. This promise is in Doctrine and Covenants 82:10, where God says "I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say." He "will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you" (John 14:18).

God gives and he takes -- but he will never, ever take something from you without bestowing upon you something far better than you could ever imagine. He's done it for me. Time and again, he's done it for me. And as long as I do my best to be the girl he wants me to be, he won't leave me alone. He won't leave you alone, either. It's against his nature, you know. If he wasn't there for you when you needed him, he wouldn't be God anymore. God will not and cannot break his promises if you do all you can to let him be in your life.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

i like the friend zone...

I've been in frequent correspondence with Sister Raddatz. Because I'm busy working and she's busy being a mom, it's easier for all parties involved to schedule adventures and to communicate through email. The other day she was asking me about my dating life, and I told her that I don't date. I have a couple of close guy friends (both of them being her sons) and one very close guy friend, but other than that I don't go out of my way to associate with any other men. Sure, I have a lot of male coworkers at the writing center who are great people, but they're coworkers -- not to mention I'm not interested in them anyway. Great kids -- weird though.

I mentioned to Sister Raddatz that one of my friends and I had joked about going to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday. Somehow (it was probably my fault) we started laughing about getting married there -- just one of those stupid things that happens in a conversation about a guy and a girl going to Vegas together, you know? Eventually I told him that I didn't want to get married anyway, one reason being that neither of us would have temple recommends and that, frankly, I believe that we might kill each other. He said that he could see the temple recommend thing being an issue, but no -- we wouldn't kill each other. 

Sister Raddatz said that she's heard that there is a little bit of truth in every conversation. I laughed and told her that it was all just fun. "Besides that," I said, "there is no way that I am getting married at 21."

A couple of days later, she said she'd been thinking about that, and she had a question. "Why don't you want to get married at 21?"

This question has come up a lot for me lately, not in relation to age, but just "What don't you want to get married?" Adding the 21 onto the end has made me think a lot about the reasons why I don't want to get married. I guess it's because 21 is an age that isn't very far distant for me anymore. Somehow in my imagination I went from being 18 to 23 -- I forgot that 19, 20, 21, and 22 are in the middle there. That's 1,460 days that I just jumped over in imagining the way my life was going to be. So much for a five year plan...I forgot about four years in there!

Anyway. So, in general, why do I not want to get married at 21?

First of all, in order to get married in the next year, I'd have to either meet someone really soon or see a current friendship move from "friend zone" to "together zone" to "fiance zone" to (eek) "together for eternity zone." That would be super, super fast. If I know him already, sure, it might not be so bad -- date for a few months, see if it works out, and bam! Game over, life begins! But if I don't know him -- that would be an even faster relationship progression because I don't already know him.

Second, 21 is so very young. SO very young. It looks super old when you're 14, but once you're watching it approach you, you realize how very not-grown-up you really are.

Those are the main reasons that I've come up with to answer the question "Why do you not want to get married at 21?" Now for the other question: "Why don't you want to get married?" Or, to make some readers happy, why don't I want to get married yet.

In my opinion, I don't know enough about life and love to get married (yet). I don't know enough about people. There are so many things I don't know, and so many things that I haven't experienced that would be very difficult to do if I were married (like an internship in D.C. or a mission as a single sister). I also have realized that I am terrified of commitment. I can commit my heart no problem! I'm loyal to a fault, and if I love someone (be it a family member, friend, potential more-than-friend), there is very little that will keep me from staying absolutely, 100% committed to our relationship. 

It's committing everything else -- time, space, mind, body, all of me -- to someone that scares me. It's having someone know everything about me -- my fears, my desires, my weaknesses, my selfishness, my insecurities -- and if it turns out that he can't handle me, then what? When do you reach the point that you know enough about each other that you want to spend eternity together, through the good and the bad? Perhaps I lack faith, or I don't understand people well enough, but I don't see anyone wanting to stay with me.

It's the eternal aspect of that commitment -- it's the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, the everything of a relationship -- that terrifies me. I know that I can stick things out with someone. I've done it time and again, once to the point that I allowed myself to be manipulated and hurt emotionally and physically because I loved that person with all of my heart. I went through hell for that boy, and for a couple of others, too. Not that I want to put anyone through hell, but will someone stick it out with me when it gets hard?

It's the fear that things will fall apart, leaving nothing but pain and broken trust. To get married, you have to date someone and get engaged first. There's always the chance that things will get ruined. I know there's always a risk, and that it's better to risk than to never have a chance at loving someone. I don't know if I can handle that right now. I don't want to ruin perfectly good friendships and be left missing someone I could have had as a friend forever if I had been willing to keep things friendly.

For example. I would love to have someone to talk to and spend time with and take care of and love, but I don't want to. Though I know that I am willing to make most of the sacrifices necessary to be in a relationship, the idea of dating anyone scares me to death. Sure, there are a couple of guys who I absolutely love spending time with. I enjoy their company, and enjoy them as people. But because we're not "together," there can be that friendly space between talks and visits and no one feels like their needs aren't being met. I don't feel stuck. Stuck is a horrible word to use in describing any kind of relationship, I know, but it's the only word that really works for how I feel when considering a relationship. I don't feel stuck when I'm best friends with a guy (even if the feelings of friendship start becoming more). But thinking about dating brings on this almost panicked, trapped feeling (not to mention nausea and butterflies).

I don't know why that is. I know that there's a lot (and I mean a lot) of fear involved. Fear of rejection, fear of pain, fear of broken trust, fear of having something absolutely fantastic and then watching it fall apart, etc. And I think I'm just not emotionally mature enough to handle it. There are so many things I still don't know about people. Right now I'm perfectly happy being best friends with guys who I can be close to without fear of being hurt or annoying them -- if we're "just friends" then we have nothing to lose! 

I wonder if it's more that I'm afraid no one will love me enough, or if I'm afraid that I won't be able to love him fully because I'll always be waiting for things to fall apart. I wonder if I'm afraid that things will actually work out, and then out of nowhere it'll come crashing down. 

It's silly and childish, but it's where I am right now. Today, I believe that 21 is definitely not a great age for me to get married. Who knows, I could be wrong. I could meet someone or a friend could convince me that the friend zone is boring, and somehow I end up with a ring and a temple date. From where I'm sitting now, it doesn't seem like a possibility. Mostly because I'm afraid. I feel comfortable being single. I like being single. I also like being close to someone. I haven't let myself think about which I like more -- for one, I don't have anyone in my life who would consider dating me and for another, why dwell on something that you can't have right now?

Monday, August 13, 2012

you are so dumb...

Do you ever do something that, in the moment, makes you very happy? And then later, thinking about it, you just feel dumb?

Well. I'm feeling dumb today. Super dumb. I almost wish that I had been needed to work a double shift so that I wasn't stuck at home thinking about things.

It's a good night for a movie. Adios, amigos.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

jumping on the zombie wagon...

Ever since the beginning of the zombie craze that has swept the world of cyberspace, I have wondered at how something so gruesome and creepy could ever be popular. Zombie books, zombie films, zombie TV shows, zombie memes, zombie zombie zombie everything -- all packed full of brain-seeking, limb-twitching, face-pulling, moan-making living dead creatures.

Not appealing. Not at all.

I'll admit that I've read my share of zombie themed YA fantasy and sci-fi novels. The Forest of Hands and Teeth is a particularly interesting read. It was fascinating because of the detail and, well. The title and cover art alone were enough to make me pick it up off of the shelf (yes, I do choose books based on their covers). But other than that, I've never been into the "genre." It's always creeped me out.

Thanks to Parker, though, I took my shot at entering the zombie media. He invited me to auditions for a music video that is being put together by his brother. I had no desire to audition, but since I only get to see Parker every once in awhile, I decided to go and say hi, maybe watch some people show their stuff. No way in heck was I going to try out though. Do you have any idea how stupid people look when pretending to be zombies? Pretty darn stupid. In a highly entertaining sort of way.

Of course, Parker tried to get me to audition. So did his brothers, sister, and sister-in-law who were there. I was too scared though, and too afraid. I watched and found myself wishing that I could have a shot. It was a short-lived wish, though. Too scared. I didn't want to look dumb.

After saying good-bye to Parker and heading home, I started re-thinking my decision to not try out. I inventoried the reasons why I hadn't done it. 1) I was afraid I'd look like an idiot, 2) there was a very good chance I'd look like an idiot, fear aside, and 3) the only thing I know about zombies is from books and memes -- I've never actually seen a film or show that has them in it, so I didn't know how they moved or sounded or anything.

Sitting at a stoplight, I realized that the main thing holding me back was fear of looking stupid. Then a new fear crept in. It was a fear that if I didn't try out, I'd get home and regret it, especially when the video comes out. I'll see it, and it'll probably be cool, and I'll think "Girl, you are so stupid. You totally could have had a chance at being in this -- and you chickened out. Just like everything else you've ever not done."

That was it. I turned the car around and drove back, thinking up potential movement I could do when I got back. I ran into the room, and when Parker's sister Whitney asked if I'd changed my mind, I said, "YES. Because I'm tired of missing out on things because I was too afraid to try -- I'm not doing that today."

And guess what? All of them clapped for me! All of these grown-ups who had been trying to get me to try out for two hours clapped. One of them, I don't even remember her name, told me that she was proud of me. They didn't even know me, but they didn't treat me like I was dumb or silly or immature (which I am).

So I tried out! I had no idea what I was doing, and my face was red the whole time, and I kept giggling -- but I did it! It was scary, and my legs felt like jell-o, but I did it. And now I'm sitting here in my house not feeling sad or regretful -- I feel good. 

Was I scared? You bet. Did I look stupid? Of course. But did I do it? Yep. I did. Take that, zombies. I'm not scared of you.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Okonomiyaki and the Return of the King...

For the last three weeks, Brianna and I have gotten together and watched one extended version of The Lord of the Rings on our afternoon off from work. This evening was the final installment of our adventure through Middle Earth, and we celebrated with kettle corn (we both may be little, but we sure can pack away a lot of popcorn) and dinner. Which was amazing. And easy. And from Pinterest (love). And foreign, too. To borrow words from Samwise Gamgee, "I don't usually hold with foreign food, but this Elvish stuff -- it's not bad!"

Or, you know. Japanese stuff.

Okonomiyaki, a savory Japanese pancake, literally means "as you like it." It's simple to make, quick to cook, fun to eat (because it's a pancake, but it's got sauce on it), and delicious to taste. Here's what you need:
1 cup flour
1 egg
1 – 2 cups fresh spinach/kale/nappa cabbage/ or your green of choice [minced]
3/4 cup rice milk or water
1/4 tsp salt
Okonomi sauce (or in our case Sweet & Sour sauce and Teriyaki sauce -- I have a major sweet tooth and liked the Sweet & Sour better, but they were both great)
This is your base recipe. Because this is an "as you like it" pancake, you can add whatever you want to the batter! Brianna and I added green onions and ham. Other stuff like garlic, potatoes, shrimp, fish, shallots, ginger, anything you want can be added in. After you've put in your tasties, do this:
1. Preheat pan with oil on medium heat (or do it after the batter is ready like I did)
2. Place all the batter ingredients into a bowl and stir until just combined- do not over mix (I don't know how you'd over mix it, but that's what the directions said to not do so I figured I'd leave it in for you -- in case it's important, you know)
3. Pour a large pancake sized serving out onto your pan -- about half of the batter will make one good sized pancake
4. Add any additional toppings (or stir them into the batter before pouring into the pan -- then it all gets mixed together evenly)
5. Allow to cook thoroughly on both sides (3-5 minutes, depending on toppings), add sauce of choice and serve while hot
Such a great meal. Pinterest wins again. 
And The Return of the King is just a fabulous film. It's so well done, and the feeling that you get from it is rather incredible. I'll admit it, I was moved to tears by the loyalty and love that the characters feel for each other, and that the actors portrayed so marvelously.
Fantastic evening, I must say. The whole day was great -- productive and fun. And now it's raining. Very perfect.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012


I woke up today in a bit of a fog. Three nights in a row of bad dreams (most of which involve my friends getting killed in car accidents, being shot, intentionally overdosing, or myself being tortured) left me exhausted and full of undesirable thoughts.

With the after-dream mind-set, I began to get ready for the day. I pulled jeans and a t-shirt out of the closet, but immediately felt that my choice of attire was wrong. After arguing with myself and providing a long list of excuses, I gave in and selected a skirt and blouse. I was going to the temple today.

This afternoon was the first time I've attended the temple since Christmas. It had been a long time because of school, and then my recommend expired and I didn't notice until last month. I got it renewed on Sunday, and the man who interviewed me ended our meeting with these parting words: "Please use it often." I'm the type of girl who does what I'm told, especially if there's a slight second urging.

Just as I arrived, I got a text from my dad. All it said was "We got in a car accident. Call me please."

Seriously? Seriously. When it rains, it pours until you feel like you're drowning. But as I started to head back to my car, I stopped and called my dad. He told me that everyone was fine -- mom had some bad whiplash and the car had two scratches in the paint with a dent in the fender (Hondas are miniature tanks, I swear),, but other than that they were totally fine. Dad then told me to not come home, and to go to the temple as I had planned.

Again, I did as I was told. I was frustrated to see that it was very busy, and at first I was annoyed with myself because I forgot it's Wednesday today. Mutual night. Everyone goes to the baptistery on Wednesdays. But as I got ready and sat down in line, I found that I was glad to wait.

It was good to think and feel good inside -- it was the first time in several weeks that I haven't felt badgered by unhappy thoughts and feelings. It was definitely an hour and a half well spent -- I didn't want to leave.

Leave I did, and I was left to think more about what I had learned. But I was also faced with the irritating thoughts and feelings that I've been fighting a lot lately -- around and around they circled in my head. Dad's cancer. Callie's trauma. Work drama. Parker's difficulty. Financial things -- my own, my family's, and my friends'. My own shortcomings. Now the car wreck -- although that did turn out much better than it could have.

Slowly I started to sink back into this awful, dark sadness. I felt horribly guilty and sad and just bad in general. I didn't just need to talk to someone, I wanted to. But I was afraid to. My friends have their own problems, and my family doesn't know anything about what I've been thinking or feeling lately (or if they do, they're not saying anything -- I prefer it that way, actually). I didn't want to worry anyone, or bother anyone. Most of all, I didn't want to push anyone away.

A name came to mind, though. Call him, a little voice said in my head. Um...I don't think so, I replied. Do it, came the response. I thought about it, then asked, You sure? There was no verbal answer, but a warm feeling came over me and I knew it would be okay.

Until there was no answer. Then I felt dumb. I put it off to my imagination, and was relieved when my dad called me a few seconds later. And then my phone beeped while I was talking to him, and it beeped a second time when mom took her turn talking with me.

Two voice mails from the same person -- he'd called me back. Twice were right. Sorry about that, as I dialed the number again.

An hour and a half later, I felt free. I told him the truth about the past couple of months. I told him that what I'd said, about life being great and happy and fantastic wasn't completely true. He wasn't bothered. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even very disappointed in me. He just listened. He reminded me (quite firmly) that I'm not going to do any of this alone, that I'm not even supposed to do things alone. I still felt scared, and I still felt a little silly, but I didn't feel as scared or as silly as I had before. 

I'm glad I listened. I'm glad I obeyed.

Follow the promptings you have. If you get a notion to do something good, be it for you or for someone else, do it. Because in the end, you'll probably help both parties in ways you never imagined.  

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

taking five...

  1. Got in touch with Parker for a little while today -- somehow we ended up discussing Batman theme songs
  2. Made German pancakes and I didn't destroy them
  3. Clocked out of work right at 8:00 -- meaning that we got off on time for a change
  4. Was able to stop the obsessive thoughts for a couple of hours
  5. This:

Monday, August 6, 2012

taking five...

  1. The kitchen experiment I conducted was a success -- want some?
  2. Being greeted by a giant, exuberant brown dog every time I come home makes me feel very loved
  3. My coworkers are extremely insightful -- not to mention fun to spend time with
  4. Jordan's mom and I have been email corresponding for the past couple of weeks -- I love that woman
  5. I don't have to live in a box -- I don't even have to live at home right now -- and my House is beautiful

Sunday, August 5, 2012


What the heck, people? What the heck?

I really, really don't like feeling like this. It's almost worse than it ever has been, not because I'm as low as I used to be, but because I now have something to compare it to. Two years ago, happiness was something that I didn't get to experience. Then it gradually entered my life, little by little, experience after experience.

There were still sad times -- but not like this. It hasn't been like this in a long time. Not this constant, nagging, irritating sadness that sucks the energy right out of me and leaves me staring at the walls wondering. I used to be able to force it back, to change it from bad to good, to change the way I was thinking until I didn't feel sad anymore. I could focus on the good things and feel genuinely happy.

Now it's back to the nonstop badgering in the back of my head, pushing through the barriers in my mind and breaking down the methods of thought I've been trying to learn. It's almost like an obsession, thoughts that keep forming and creeping their way to the forefront of my mind, compulsive and unbidden. It's getting harder and harder to control.

I hate this. I don't understand it. I don't know how I can be so brimming with thoughts and emotions that I feel empty. It's as though I feel so much that I feel nothing. There's pain and paralysis. There's anger and apathy. There's confidence and confusion. Everything. Nothing. All at the same time.

How can you be full and empty at the same time? How can you feel so much and feel so little?

Saturday, August 4, 2012

life is still good...

I've noticed lately that the things I've been writing about have been

a) sad
b) depressing
c) negative
d) all of the above

If you circled "d" then you would be most correct.

After debating whether or not I should apologize, I realized that apologizing would be a little silly. Why apologize for being sincere about how you feel?

However, I do recognize that not all of life is as bad as it may seem. That and I'm trying to keep myself from being extremely irritated and frustrated with people. Short plug for being considerate: just do it. Please. Think about what you're doing and how it effects (affects?) others before you do it. Don't cut in line, rinse your dishes, stop at stop signs, say thank you, pull your weight as much as you can before letting someone do for you what you can do for yourself. Thanks.

Mini rant over. On to the next.

Last night I did something fun on a Friday night for the first time in awhile. I had planned to go to the gym after work, then make dinner, scrub the kitchen, clean my bathroom, read my book, and go to bed around 11:30. My plans totally changed when Linnea asked if I wanted to watch the last two episodes of Sherlock, season 2. How could I possibly say no?

We made a delicious dinner of chicken Parmesan wraps (Pinterest wins again) and cold watermelon, followed by kettle corn (yes -- I did eat a bag and a half by myself) and Snickerdoodles. Sherlock was delightful -- I was absolutely terrified during "The Hound of Baskervilles." I screamed at least four times. "The Reichenbach Fall" wasn't frightening, but it was very fun to be able to follow Sherlock's line of evidence. I was right with him every step of the case. Until, you know, Moriarty pulled that one stunt at the end (I may have screamed then, too).

A late night drive with Kala rounded up the festivities at about 2am. I took her with me when I dropped Linnea off at her home. Kala doesn't get out much, and she likes to go for rides in the car (and I was also glad to have her along to help me not imagine giant black hounds with red eyes tearing out of the bushes around the complex when I got back home).

Today was a good day, too. I woke up feeling very sad again, so I got dressed and went to work on the house. Bathroom scrubbed, kitchen counters and cabinets wiped down, floors swept and mopped, dishes done, laundry started, room straightened, meals prepped, stove top washed -- all in an hour and fifteen minutes. By then I realized I was hungry (that happens a lot now). Wash spinach and drain, rinse strawberries and slice, shred chicken, chop nuts, pour poppy seed dressing, toss together -- salad for eating! Let's just say it was delicious and I might make another tomorrow.

Work with Alyssa and Hannah was a blast. We got almost everything on Tracy's list completed (and mind you, there were about 20 items to do), accidentally ripped up the puzzle piece flooring with the weight of our candy laden carts, climbed up and down ladders hanging hats from the ceiling and stowing boxes of candy on shelves (each box weighs nearly 40 pounds -- carrying 20 of those up a ladder is quite the workout), and just worked hard in general. It's always great to have things to do during a shift, rather than standing around waiting for customers to come in and need help.

Hannah asked if she could come to my house after the shift was over. We ate cold watermelon and made chocolate milk with the Hershey's syrup I keep stowed away in the fridge. Kala kept us entertained with her old lady antics (she lacks manners in some cases), until we finally were laughing so hard we couldn't breath. Pretty soon we got to talking about how she's been doing lately, and then she started asking me questions about Garrett. Half an hour later I'd told her a lot of things I've been keeping back, and I felt badly that I'd spent so much time talking about myself. But she said something that made me feel really happy inside. She smiled and said, "I don't mind. I like to listen. It means that you trust me."

I do trust her. I trust her, and Alyssa, and Linnea -- they're coworkers, yes, but more importantly, they're my friends. We have fun, we have hard times, and we're there for each other when we need each other. And even if we don't need each other, we're there when we want company.

Things are okay. Life is still good. It's hard, and I'm still sad a lot and don't know why, but life is good. Walking through the parking lot tonight in the cool evening air, the night breeze sweet and fresh, the flowers curling into sleep, the stars peeking through the clouds, all I could think about was how good it feels to be alive.

"Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good." -Boromir, LOTR

do as in don't...

I find it rather ironic that this was shared by my mom on her Facebook page.

Please know that I'm not blaming the way that I am on my past and current relationship with my mom. I just find it interesting that so many of these strike a chord with how things were in my home in regards to both of my parents. By no means was I (or am I now) a 100% all-around awesome kid, either. No person is perfect, and therefore no person is a perfect parent or child.

Sometimes it is so hard to forgive -- I'm 20 years old and I'm still afraid to be friends with my mom. One of my biggest problems is that I have a very good long term memory. My short term memory frequently gets lost in the static of the past.

All I can do is keep trying.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Thursday, August 2, 2012

sides of me...

The me I've been is a happy me. She's still an introvert, but she reaches out and tries making friends. She learns new things and goes new places. She smiles, even when she's sad. She can focus on the task at hand, or the person talking, or the idea she's rolling around in her head. She reads and cooks and talks and laughs. She doesn't worry as much as before. She takes pictures and writes, goes adventuring and plays just as much as she works.

The me I'm becoming isn't a happy me. She's reverting to the sad, shy, quiet, lonely, afraid person of a year ago. She stays home because she doesn't want to go out, because she doesn't want people. She frowns more than she smiles. She gets sidetracked easily, choosing to spend time on the Internet, rather than exploring the world around her. She still reads and cooks, but the reading is out of habit and the cooking is out of necessity, not enjoyment. She talks a little, and laughs less. She worries a lot. She doesn't take pictures, and she has to force herself to write, living from bedtime to wake time to bedtime again.

I feel like I can't be the me I want to be anymore. I'm trapped in this "not me," uncomfortable, unsure, unwanted in my own head. Or not "not me," but an "other me." I don't like this other me that's resurfacing, this sad and sullen and negative me. I don't know how to get rid of her -- she keeps coming back, year after year after year. But how can you get rid of what you are?

Both girls are me. Both are insecure, but one is able to cope with it more than the other. Both like to be alone, but one is alone because it helps her be happy, while the other is alone because you can't get hurt if you're alone. Both want to love, but one does so willingly and the other holds back. Both live, but one lives well and the other survives.

While on Pinterest today, I read a saying which stated that in order to be the best you, you must first accept all the things about yourself -- the good and the bad. Strengths and weaknesses, virtues and vices; all parts of yourself need to be taken into consideration to be the best you.

I don't really want to accept the unhappy me. I just want her to go away and never come back -- it hurts to feel so down, and it's heavy and lonely and confusing. It isn't even rational -- but what I feel is hard to logic back into happiness. I know the things I'm feeling, but I don't know why. And all of the reasons I've come up with don't make sense. My life is good. It's better than good, to be honest -- it's great. Dad is doing well, Callie is doing better, I have great friends, my bills aren't a problem, my school is working out just fine, I have two good jobs, I'll have a room mate for sure in the fall, the room mate I have now is a doll, I have a good family, my car works, my body mostly works, I'm not starving -- I know all of these things, but I still feel so sad.

How do you accept what you are when you can't stand yourself? When you can't stand the way that you feel, and no matter how hard you pray and study and try every day to be grateful for the good in your life, you are constantly uncomfortable in your own skin, and even worse, your own mind?

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

July top 10...

  1. Once Upon Another Time -- Sara Bareilles
  2. Wipe Your Eyes -- Maroon 5
  3. Summer is Over -- Jon McLaughlin and Sara Bareilles
  4. Come Home -- One Republic and Sara Bareilles
  5. What Makes You Beautiful -- ThePianoGuys cover of One Direction
  6. Vision of Love -- Kris Allen
  7. Sad -- Maroon 5
  8. Payphone -- Maroon 5
  9. Wanted -- Hunter Hayes
  10. Brokenhearted -- Karmin
Maroon 5 and Sara Bareilles...adore.