...

Lately when I think about writing, I feel sick. Then again, that's how I feel when I think about most things.

I'm often ready to bolt into the nearest restroom because my stomach turns and twists so much. I'm always (not an exaggeration) on the verge of tears. I can't sleep.

The worst thing is that my happiness for other people's joy is tinged with a deep pain. It isn't jealousy; I know how jealousy feels -- mean and angry and bitter. This is different. It's more like a quiet, aching sorrow, one that I don't want the happy person to know about because I don't want to detract from his/her joy.

And yet, I sometimes wish they knew, just so they could give me a hug and a job to do so I can help bring about their special days. It's better when I'm working, especially when I'm working for others.

It'll get better. Honestly, it only can get better from this.

I'm lucky, really. Lucky that this is happening: I'll be more aware of others' feelings. I'm learning to be more forgiving. I'm learning to take care of myself for me, not to please someone else. I'm understanding that what I want is just as important as what someone else wants (although I still often do not have opinions, which some of my friends mistake for not sticking up for what I want -- sometimes, I just don't care what we're doing because I'm with people, which means I'm not alone). I'm getting better at telling people the truth regardless of the consequences. I'm practicing asking for help.

I'm growing.

Funny, how I forget that growing physically comes with pain, too -- joints enlarging, muscles stretching, bones lengthening -- keeping me awake when I was little as my body changed into the 5' 2" person I am now. Why should mental, emotional, and spiritual growth be any different?

Perhaps because the pain, for me, is enhanced by other things in my life, such as the long-time struggle with depression, and the more recent appearance of quite severe anxiety. And part of it is my personality: two of my friends were talking to me last night, and they reminded me quite firmly that my loyalty to others has often placed me as less important -- that it's time to stop taking the backseat. And they're right -- while being loyal isn't a bad thing, strengths can easily be weaknesses if used the wrong way.

I'm lucky in friendship. Lucky that I have people in my life who care about me, and who stick with me no matter what's going on in my life. I'm lucky that I have people who celebrate my successes, and who lift me up when I've hit the ground.

Georgie's just lucky, I guess.

why I won't be a lawyer...

Many of my family and friends have told me that I should be a lawyer.

Nope.

I can't think quickly enough to debate things. I'm not brave enough to say what I believe. I'm not smart enough to stick up for my "case" -- I get all tongue-tied and twisted up.

Like with my coworkers. I admire my friend who can continually stick up for her beliefs with evidence and without getting flustered by the person contesting her beliefs. I wish with all my heart I could do that.

But instead I sit quietly and literally shake in my chair.

I think I liked working here better when I was by myself all day long.

just putting it out there...

Why am I so stupid?

tradition...

Summer is not summer for me if it lacks a visit to Manti for the Mormon Miracle Pageant. It's like a mini road trip, and it's one I look forward to every year.

Last weekend, I went with Ann Girl and Adam. Needless to say, it was an adventure, as things always are with those two. After the long drive (which seems to grow shorter every year), we grabbed our treat that we never go to Manti without getting: piping hot, sugary sweet, honey butter drenched scones topped with loads of powdered sugar. So much powdered sugar, in fact, that I couldn't help but blow most of Adam's into his face. But only after he started it.

I think I finished that fight, though.

Scones, hamburgers off the grill, homemade root beer in pretty glass bottles -- quite the nice little picnic under our baby tree, which provided just enough shade for the three of us.

And then the pageant! Yes -- it's still cheesy. Yes -- they really should update that script. And yes -- I cried, just like every year.

It makes me feel something, you know? It reminds me of things I've forgotten, of things that are important to me that I overlook during the day-to-day struggles and adventures of life. That's one of the reasons why I go: I want to be reminded.

I love this temple.

And I love these people!

festival? carnival? fair?

I'm not really sure what the Pleasant Grove Strawberry Days is classified as. It's not exactly a festival. It's too big for a carnival. And it has a rodeo, so maybe it's a fair? Because the state fairs here in the west always have rodeo events.

Yep. I think it's a fair.

Whatever af-fair (ha) it is, it's brilliant. I think I might like it more than I like as much as I like the Orem Summerfest, actually.

Or maybe it's because I went with Ann Girl. That's probably it.

Biggest. Corn dog. Ever. And it was delicious.

It's a little dark, but if you look closely, you can see the butterfly. Oh, and it's just henna.

Love her. Love Strawberry Days!

where we belong...

A couple of weeks ago, it was my Ann Girl's birthday! In honor of the day, we took a trip to the local zoo and partied it up with our animal friends.

Here we are, Ann, myself, and Adam, just chillin' with the elephants.

Monkey-in' around.

This is how we usually look. And that seal was a great bench.

Beautiful creatures.

Oh. My. Gosh.

See? There is a POLAR BEAR RIGHT. THERE.

Also a polar bear made out of Legos. I see what you did there, Coca-Cola.

Animal yoga, partner style.

Or - ANN - gutan!

And these are two of the many reasons why he is my best friend.

We're cute.

good-bye, Google Reader...

So.

With Google Reader peacin' out, let's stay connected with this little link right here: Bloglovin'.com

I've rolled y'all over already because there are too many people who I will miss hearing from if I don't! Seriously -- who ever thought you could feel such a connection to people you've never met? It's like books -- you read and you love.

Keep in touch, yeah?

a weird kind of luck...

I do most of my thinking, worrying, and crying at the office.

That may sound like the craziest, dumbest thing ever. But when you work where I do, meaning I work alone almost every single day for six or more hours at a time, tears just sort of come naturally.

In some ways, I'm lucky for that. No one to bother me. Nobody to judge or ask what's wrong. No need to hold it all back.

The downside? There's nothing to distract me.

now leaving Mordor...

And when I leave the testing center and turn in all of my papers, I feel like this:

Yes. I do use Lord of the Rings to explain and understand my life.

Spring term 2013 -- good riddance. And now to take a week long nap.

the best people...

...are the people who love you no matter how good or how bad you look, feel, talk, or act. And for them I am grateful.

"that girl," who has stuck with me the longest and who has never, ever given up on me. Ever. And we have no pictures together, and she probably wouldn't want me to post one of her anyway. But just so she knows.

My room mate, my friend I didn't know I had until a year after we met, my "mom" away from home.

My role model, my "big sister" I never knew I wanted, my confidante who knows me better than I know myself.

My advice giver, my three o'clock in the morning go-to guy, my "big brother" I always wanted and never had. 

Who I also have no pictures with. And who is ENGAGED! So happy for him!

My partner in crime, my photographer buddy, my friend who loves getting lost.

Honestly? I can't NOT put him here -- even though we broke each others' hearts and it still sucks, and he confuses me like crazy -- 

I'm so glad he's still a part of my life.

questions I'd ask Harry Potter if he were real...

Dear Harry,

Did Voldemort become a pile of ash because he no longer had a soul which could inhabit his body, and so disintegrated because it couldn't hold itself up anymore?

Why did the Elder wand snap so easily? I mean, it's the Elder wand. It's basically the greatest weapon ever created, but it snapped like nobody's business. Why?

Why are you wizard folk so against the Killing Curse? It appears to be the most humane magical method for killing a person during a battle. And seeing as killing people happens frequently, you know -- turning someone to a stone-like substance and blowing her to smithereens seems unnecessary.

Will Teddy Lupin become the next wizarding world hero? Because he does have almost the same circumstances of being orphaned, he has a special power, and he's your godson, Harry. So...all of the implications are just there.

WHY did Hermione pick Ron? She is way too smart and too classy for him. But that's a stupid question -- you don't always choose who you fall in love with. It just happens.

How come you guys didn't stupefy Nagini and then chop her head off with the sword or stab her with a fang? Tossing rocks at her and waiting to take a swing at her with a four-inch long tooth seems pretty dumb when you're holding a magic stick.

Harry Potter. You had the Elder wand, the Resurrection stone, AND the cloak of Invisibility. You could have been the master of Death because with the cloak, Death never would have found you, and neither could anyone else. BUT you snapped the wand, you dropped the stone, and you held onto the cloak. Either you're super noble, or you're super stupid.

I have other questions. But I'm too much of a fan to ask them -- I don't want to ruin it for myself.

Sincerely,
a confused Muggle

ugh...

I can't figure out why I'm so angry.

I'm just angry.

alone...

The downside of going to the Summerfest alone?

Seeing people from high school, college, and church, and all of them asking "Are you alone?" To which I respond, rather lamely, "Yes." And then it gets all awkward.

The upside of going to the Summerfest alone?

I can take as many pictures of the same carousel and Ferris wheel as I want to without anyone getting annoyed.

Another thing about going to the Summerfest alone equipped with a camera -- I cannot move thirty feet without someone asking me to take a picture of their group.

Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. But still.

sigh...

I feel so fat.

Now, hear me out, hear me out.

I honestly have gained weight in the last six months. I've been trying to do more to manage it. Eat better (or eat in general), get more sleep, drink lots of water. The hardest part for me has been exercise.

Not for lack of trying. It's not that I don't exercise. It's that when I do, I end up stuck on my couch for two or three days because of the pain that follows.

Take today, for example. I had plans to clean the entire house from top to bottom, you know, to get it ready for when Chels comes home tomorrow. I had plans to bake cookies for her and Jeff, to welcome her home. I was going to go out for another half hour of interval training.

Nope.

I can barely walk -- I can barely even sit down.

And so, I'm sitting in my too tight jeans on the couch, doing homework while watching Cake Boss (because it's freakin' amazing how they make those cakes and I love it), trying not to curse myself and everything else out of frustration.

Because cursing doesn't help anything.

Does anyone have any ideas about how to get some exercise that doesn't leave me useless for days? Here's what I've tried so far:
yoga (yeah -- even that hurts -- :P )
walking
interval training
water aerobics
dance (of many kinds)

I'm going to try and bake cookies now. Yay!

one month...

Until my high school best friend comes home.

The guy who made me laugh.
The guy who made me cry -- because I was laughing so hard.
The guy who took me to Homecoming junior year and now associates me with the color brown (dress).
The guy who helped our friend ask me to Prom to make absolutely certain I would get to go.
The guy who held me when my heart got broken.
The guy who took me to a dance when I was having a bad day.
The guy who forgot to pick me up for three hours and then bought us ice cream.
The guy who biked to my house in the rain dressed as a clown when I was sick to cheer me up.
The guy who fought with me about random stuff.
The guy who shot me over and over with Nerf guns.
The guy who locked me in a closet.
The guy who brought eggnog, Kit Kats, and fuzzy socks to my house at 11:30 at night when I was sad.
The guy who stole my car keys, my shoes, my phone, and my car, all in one afternoon.
The guy who quoted movie lines with me for hours.
The guy who taught me that I was beautiful.

I couldn't have made it through high school without him.

One month. Can't wait!

one of those times...

Lately it feels as though nothing is working out.

I was made student lead at my job. You'd think that would be a good thing, but no. I hate being in charge, particularly when it's a position for which I was never trained because (surprise) it never existed before. It's so frustrating having curators and metadata specialists coming to me for answers to questions I've never known needed to be asked. To every day send people to ask someone else because I don't know what to do.

The paper I'm writing is too smart for me. I don't even understand the eight pages I wrote -- and I don't know if my professor will like it. I'm writing way out of my league because it's fascinating, but honestly? I'm terrified I'll get called out for writing a paper on personal racial identity when -- hello -- white girl right here. I mean, the fact that I'm white doesn't mean that I can't discuss racial issues. It sure is terrifying, though.

The air conditioner broke this morning. And it's the hottest week of the summer so far.

At the same time that nothing seems to be going right, things are going okay. I mean, having a position created for me because the curators recognized that I at least have potential is pretty great. They picked me, out of the seven students -- and me being here the least amount of time.

The paper I'm writing is too smart for me. Yeah -- that's kind of a good thing, right? Because if it's too smart for me, yet I wrote it and the thoughts came from me, then I must be headed in a good direction.

Today is the coolest day of the hottest week of the summer. It's cloudy and overcast, with a nice wind blowing -- kicks up a lot of dust, but the house might not turn into an oven by the end of the day.

Plus, I made a new friend. She's a custodian for the library, and she is one of the sweetest people I've ever known. She told me all about how she used to work at Disneyland, and her vacation to New Orleans this summer with her family. She had the strangest earrings I've ever seen, and was totally focused on getting things cleaned up in the stacks where the construction crew had made a mess. She also noticed things that have been broken or sitting around by my desk for months that I didn't know what to do with, and just took care of them for me.

How nice is that?

And so, things aren't all that bad. It just feels that way.

i feel...

Some of my friends know that I often struggle expressing how I feel. I learned a way of dealing with this last semester -- and that is to make lists.

I really am a list person. It's how I keep my life in order. It's how I remember things I don't want to forget. It's how I brainstorm. It's how I do things.

Here is my expression list.

i feel...

...ignored.
...selfish.
...cold.
...angry.
...sad.
...shaky.
...busy.
...overwhelmed.
...tired.
...used.

And then, once I've listed it out, I understand it better.

It makes sense in my head.

breaking...

Really.

It's the only word I can use to describe the way my life appears right now.

Nothing is working out. No matter where I turn or what I attempt, things fall apart. Often it's not my fault.

Like the fact that the IRS doesn't recognize my social security/address combination, and so there is now an issue with my financial aid. It clearly states my address and social security number on my tax return -- figure it out, government. Oh, wait -- that's too much to ask, isn't it?

Like the fact that I suddenly went from registered for ECON 110 to being 106th on the wait list and I'm a SENIOR.

Like the fact that I have to take ECON 110 at all.

Like the fact that I'm completely alone at home this week because my room mate is out of town in Disneyland, on a vacation that I thought I was going on as well. I'm still not sure why he broke up with me. At least I didn't buy a plane ticket.

Like the fact that my presentation partner flaked out on me and I ended up doing almost all of the work. NEVER have I had such awful groups, EVER, like I have here at BYU. Seriously, I have never had a good group at this college. Of all places -- where we profess to be hardworking and honest and dependable. Guess it's one of those things that's easy to say, right?

Like the fact that my dad is getting sicker, and his company still makes him travel. HELLO. HE HAS CANCER. If you're reading this, dad's employer, I am NOT happy with you. Yeah. My dad's cancer is terminal. He's DYING. And you -- for the sake of the all-mighty dollar -- are making it worse.

Like the fact that my dad really is dying. How fast or how slow, I have no idea. Having that hanging over me all of the time is absolutely horrific.

Like the fact that my ex-fiance treats me like a girlfriend -- that, though, I have more control over. And let me tell you -- that will stop. So help me, it's going to stop.

Like the fact that no matter how well I eat, or how much I exercise, I'm still gaining weight.

Like the fact that no matter how often I pray, or count my blessings, or do nice things for other people, I cannot shake the anxiety and fear that threaten to envelop me every day.

Wow.

What a rant of negativity. Sorry about that -- I feel better though.

when...

this world can drive you mad.

we see and hear and feel and live in a world
of mad people,
driven to a never ending insanity
by sights and sounds and touches,
a pulsing fever of thoughts -- like a heartbeat.

questions.
what is real.
what is not.
what should be said and what should be kept
(tortuously) quiet
 -- keep them from going mad.
like you.

I am Nobody. are you -- Nobody -- too?
who. are. we.
the madness of wondering and worrying and waiting and watching -- something -- that will never come.
the world and the wold (for the mind is such a place) and the window closing -- closing -- closing.

don't tell. don't tell, don't tell, don't tell -- keep it secret.

keep it safe.

study puppies...also, this is post 1111...what.

Nelly, Thor, and Tasha -- keepin' me company

Kevin -- King of the Pillow Mountain

small = cute...

Unless it's a spider. Spiders are small (usually) but they are not, I repeat, NOT. Cute.

But these little guys are!

These are our new fosters!

They're about two and a half weeks old now. They recently received their names, after a period of the black on being called Tan and the cream one being called Black (a la Psych Season 5, Episode 15 "Black and Tan: A Crime of Fashion").

We now call them Thor and Tasha. Thor, the big one on the left, is so named because he is twice the size of his sister and big, blonde, and beautiful. Tasha, the one on the right, is short for Natasha Romanov because of her sassy little attitude and her ability to pull herself out of any kind of scrape with ease.

They can sleep anywhere.

Thor hates having his picture taken, funnily enough.

Aw.

Tasha is "my" puppy, though she will let anyone cuddle her as long as they produce body heat.

Yeah. I love being a foster mom.