funny, what you remember...

and what can break your heart.

temple, temple...

One of the few places that I feel total peace is on the grounds of the temple. In this crazy, noisy, topsy-turvy world, I often find that my head and heart start being just as crazy, noisy, and topsy-turvy. Just walking in the gardens and sitting on the steps of the temple helps me get my spiritual bearings -- I drop my cares and worries for a moment, basking in the glow of the sun on the temple walls.

Sunday saw a visit to the St. George temple -- we stopped there before returning home from our spur of the moment adventure. Jeff, Chelsea, Adam, and I took turns taking pictures of one another on the grounds, soaking up the sunshine and enjoying one another's company.

Pretty much perfection right here, folks.

     I think we're pretty sweet together, don't you?

Except when he does this...not quite as sweet...

Yay, friends!

housemates, bromance to the max, best friends

What a wonderful world it is. 

Spring fake...

BYU has an age old tradition of not giving its students a spring break. The reasons they give seem to make sense, such as "you get out of school a week earlier than everyone else" and "it only prolongs time until finals." But we all know the truth: it's because they want to keep us away from all of the other colleges who are out partying, where we might get into trouble.

True story.

Due to dire need of a reprieve from school, work, and regular life in general, my housemate and I put our feet down and told our men that a holiday was in order. Late Thursday night saw hotel plans and grocery lists set, and 12 hours later we four were in the car for a St. George vacation, our very own fake break.

Adam, Jeff, Chelsea, and me at Fiest Fun enjoying a game of mini golf

Never a dull moment with these two around.

You see what I mean?!

      

I love this man so much.

Shhh!

Oh! You caught us!

Yep. We're all adorable. Such fun!

my 2012...

I survived 2012.

No, that's not an apocalypse joke (though I won't lie and say I didn't worry about it a little bit). It's actually a true statement.

This year has been hard. Lots of heartbreaks, lots of challenges, lots of new things to overcome. I lost several close friendships, began dealing with the pain left behind from abuse, watched my dad begin a battle with stage 4 prostate cancer, saw my sisters get hurt by boys and shattered dreams, tried to help a friend who had some awful stuff happen to her, was diagnosed with some of my own health problems, faced seemingly insurmountable challenges in school, changed jobs multiple times, met people with opposing perspectives that shook my world, moved out on my own for the first time, saw life-long dreams put on hold indefinitely, and, as always, wrestled with the darkness that comes from depression and anxiety. I've felt myself being molded and shaped into something new; that shaping and molding hurts.

This year has also been incredibly wonderful. There have been countless miracles, small and big. I gained greater closeness with the people who are my real friends, took steps necessary to heal, received the news that dad's cancer is in remission after only three months of treatment, watched my sisters band together against the unkindness of classmates, learned that tough love is sometimes necessary, humbled myself enough to go through treatments that have improved my health exponentially, pulled a shocking 3.9 GPA despite all of the difficulties, did well in all of the jobs I had and made connections for future opportunities, made wonderful new friends and new insight about life and people, gained greater independence from living as I desire, and, as always, still wrestle with the darkness that works its way into my mind and heart. I have been molded and shaped into something new; that shaping and molding has been worth every bit of pain -- I'm happier than I ever have been in my entire life.

I've done things I never would have done before. I'm taking chances, making mistakes, getting messy in life -- I even let the dishes sit in the sink overnight now, rather than staying up late to clean the entire house because one little thing is out of place. I'm living my life -- I'm not letting memories and fear live it for me.

I'm still scared. I'm taking risks that a week ago I vowed I would never do. I'm considering new, big, exciting, terrifying things. And, I like it.

2012 has been full of ups and downs -- the downs were hard. Really hard. I'm not perfect, and I'm not complete yet. There's still a lot of shaping and molding needed. But I've learned this year that fear really is the opposite of faith. With faith, anything can happen. Literally anything. Dads who are given two to three years to live can suddenly be faced with fifteen to twenty years after only three months of cancer treatment. Finances can suddenly fall into place perfectly, with just enough left to hold over until the next paycheck comes through. People who are complete strangers can, in one conversation, say exactly what was needed to help heal a broken heart. Family and friends can stay close and get closer, no matter what happens. And girls who have been damaged, inside and outside, by guys can find themselves swept off their feet by good men in a matter of days.

Miracles happen. Fun happens. And mid all of the tears and sorrows, laughter happens. It happens a lot more than we'd think, if we let it.

lore of the folk...

Yesterday I finished my first folklore collection project. Three days of sorting through computer files full of dates, names, and beliefs about different diseases, injuries, and ailments...voila. Complete.

I learned a lot of interesting things. Mostly what not to do. For example, one belief advised treating a burn by covering the affected area with turpentine and then holding the limb over a hot stove. Mmm...false. Turpentine is flammable. Pretty sure that's not going to help.

Or this one: to cure frostbite, stand barefoot in the snow. While snow can help warm up a frozen limb (because the snow is actually warmer than the icy skin and helps draw out the cold [thank you, Boy Scouts]), standing barefoot in the snow is a bit ridiculous.

Or how about eating a mouse to cure a toothache? I'm sure that's fool proof.

The really fun thing has been all of the Google searches that have led me to new, weird, and interesting bits of information regarding many of the "cures" and "treatments" I've been sifting through. Some actually work. Like ginger tea for menstrual cramps. Or raspberry tea for a stomachache. Who knew? Others don't work (see above). Such as vinegar on a sunburn (ow). The acid makes it worse.

Google is awesome.

Anyway, it was a long, rather boring process, but it's finished now. Yay.

However...that assignment was a bit preferable to the one I'm currently working on. Get this: my new project is all of the files containing folklore relating to love, courtship, marriage, and other such topics. Currently, I'm going through all of the beliefs about dating: what to do, what not to do, what to eat, what charms and incantations to use to get someone to fall in love with you. Not that I'd ever do that. Silly. And wouldn't work. I mean, after all...remember what happened with Tom Riddle and Merope Gaunt? Not happy.

Dating files. Advice from clear back in 1886.

Fitting, no?

#"nothappy,Bob"

always there...

from Do More With Les via Pinterest

what I just realized...

dear Friend,

I told you last night that I don't want to go home.

"Why?"

"Everything in my life is back there. School. Work. Responsibility. People I'm scared of. I don't want to go back to all of it."

You reassured me about it all -- I appreciate that a lot.

I didn't tell you everything though.

Driving down the country lanes, stopping at random to take pictures of the sunset, taking turns choosing which direction to go at crossroads, telling stories about past adventures, dreaming about the future -- being together like that made me realize something.

"Home is where your heart is."

I've always brushed that aside as a silly cliche, one overused like "the grass is always greener." But you know something?

As cliche as these little sayings may be, they can be horribly true.

Which is also funny, because you said that this morning. When we said good-bye.

Perhaps I shouldn't say it. Perhaps I shouldn't think it. I wouldn't do those things if I could help it -- the thought came unbidden, unexpected -- they're random thoughts and you just happen to be in them.

And then, as usual, you're the one who voices the thoughts I don't say. Like we're on the same brain wave or something.

It's a little scary. And at the same time, it's not. It's comforting.

You still have my heart. Try as I might, I can't get it back. Because if you asked for it, I wouldn't hesitate in giving it to you forever.

I don't want to go home because you're not there.

At least I got to see you for a few days. You really don't know how much that meant to me.

all my love,
GKB

once upon another time...

People say that there are those who come into your life for a reason -- usually to teach you something -- and then they leave. Their sole purpose is to give you perspective and insight into your life, to help you become better by showing you ways to change.

That's a nice thought. It's a real nice one. But thinking about it and experiencing it are nowhere near similar.

Being on the left behind end of this phenomenon sucks (yes, I just said sucks). Watching the person who meant so much to me just disappear from my life, at no (tangible) fault of my own, just circumstances and personal changes, really sucks. Going from best friends to barely speaking, pushed aside and forgotten, hurts. Feeling abandoned, betrayed, stabbed in the back, because that person knows me -- knows me for me. And once said that we'd be friends no matter what.

"I'll always be there for you."

Well. Where are you now? Not here. Not even there.

When did that happen? Almost overnight, it seems. Best friends one day, near strangers the next. Because that's how it feels when I'm with you now. Like I'm with a complete stranger. Like I'm a stranger to myself. 

What happened to us?

There's another saying, the saying that "people should be allowed to change." That's great when it applies to me. I don't like applying it to someone else, when their change leaves me feeling alone and confused, wondering if I said too much or not enough. If I should have been different, or better. 

How could I have been different or better, though, when with you, I could be nothing but myself? 

Once upon another time, I was important. It was a different kind of important than the every day, "each person is important" sort of way. It was different because I was important to you. I'm still important. I still matter. But not being important to you, especially when you still mean so much to me, is absolutely heart breaking. 

Lucky for me, you never made me happy. I was happy on my own, and I was happier with you next to me, but I didn't need you. My heart aches with missing you, yes. However, I can be, and am, happy on my own.

I didn't need you as a friend. I wanted you as a friend. It's because I loved you -- love doesn't need. Love wants. I wanted to love you, because you were my best friend. Maybe you still are my best friend -- maybe I still love you. I probably do. It makes sense, because what's happening to us is painful, and if I didn't love you, it wouldn't hurt so much.

You taught me about happiness -- you taught me how not to need. You taught me to want, and to hold onto those things that I want. You taught me that it isn't about "fitting" together. It's about "rolling." We rolled, you know. Or at least, I rolled with you.

There's more than that, though. Whether you meant to or not, you taught me that love lets go. Because I've never loved anyone like I loved you -- and love is about the other person. I learned that even more as your friend -- the more you told me, and the closer we got, and the more I shared with you -- nothing you did or said could push me away. Until now. 

Even now, though...I can't explain it. I care more about you than I do about how hurt I feel by what you're doing. Not talking to me, not answering, not being the friend anymore -- despite it all, I care about you. Which is so frustrating, because I can't let myself react in the ways I desperately wish I could. That's why I can't be as angry as I want to be. That's why I can't scream and throw tantrums and shout to the world that I hate you. Because I don't hate you. As much as I want to be immature and childish, I can't be.

Do you know how hard it is to be the one who is left behind? To be the one who is expected to wait, to be patient, to always be there when you change your mind again? Do you know what it's like to be shut out by your best friend, the person you trusted with secrets and fears and dreams you'd never shared with anyone on earth before?

Strangely, I'm not destroyed. As much as I loved you and invested in our friendship, and as much as it hurts, I'm beyond functioning. I'm happy. I'm as normal as I ever get (with the exception of minor emotional breakdowns due to a number of factors).

I don't understand how I can be so hurt and so at peace simultaneously. Perhaps it's because I don't really need you. I just wanted you in my life. 

But, when do we ever get everything that we want? 

Perhaps once upon another time.

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.

"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.

be bold...

Once upon a time in January I filled out this post template for the heck of it. It's now 6 months later. I decided to fill it out again and see if any of my "sometimes" have changed.


SOMETIMES
...I get weirdly excited about hearing a song on the radio. Like Kelly Clarkson's "Dark Side" or Katy Perry's "Wide Awake" or Rihanna's "Where Have You Been" or Journey's "Faithfully" (among others). Those are the moments when I just have to turn up the volume and sing along. Or, you know. Dance in my car.

...I feel overwhelmed with gratitude when a friend spends an afternoon with me or lets me talk to them on the phone.

...I can't stop thinking about school starting. And...I'll admit it...that one person.

...I just want to be happy all day, every day.

...I am kind of a bad person and judge myself and others too harshly.

...I wish I could express what I know in my heart without fear of rejection or losing a friend. But that is always a risk -- always.

...I  (still) just don't understand the allure of Batman. This topic of conversation follows me everywhere. It never used to come up at all -- then I met Parker and I swear he cursed me.

...I can't believe how close I am to turning 21. 6 months from now, I'll be 21. That is so strange.

...I strongly consider spending a lot of money on clothes and shoes (some things don't change very much). Add in an iPod and we're set.

If you want, try this yourself (even if you've done it before). Just copy and paste the bolded areas and fill in your "sometimes."

someday we'll know...

Love is something that I don't get. There are so many definitions of love -- I, however, can't seem to define it. There are so many ways that people show love -- sometimes it's hard for me to recognize those ways. And sometimes, it's hard for me to grasp that someone actually loves me.

Take physical touch. I don't know what it is about me and physical touch. I go for days and days without it, and I start to forget that it even happens. No hugs, no high fives, no nothing, and it's no big deal. I rarely miss it or seek it out. I just tend to forget about it.

Then out of nowhere someone will scoop me up in a hug or place a gentle kiss on my cheek. It often shocks me, and I'm left standing there looking surprised. Like today -- a family friend who I've known since I was a baby came into PartyLand tonight. She asked me how my dad and my family are doing, and then she asked about me. I gave the usual "I'm fine" answer. All of the sudden she leaned over the counter and gave me a hug, then kissed me on the cheek and told me she loves me.

I was completely thrown off guard, so much so that I could hardly respond. Standing there behind the counter, I felt tears come to my eyes and a voice in my head said, "Oh, yes. That's what it feels like to be loved. That was kind of her."

And then I felt all funny inside, and vulnerable. Lately I've been trying to keep a sort of protective shell around myself when I'm among coworkers and friends (close friends and room mates excluded -- they've figured out how to get through the shell). But I'm beginning to notice that when I'm offered verbal and physical affection from someone, especially someone I don't know very well or see very often, the shell starts to crack.

Knowing that someone loves you is a strange thing -- for me, it's one of the most astounding sensations in the world. I often worry that the people I love don't love me as much as I love them, and that they'll go away (still working on that one). Realizing that someone really cares about me and loves me hits me like a lightning bolt -- the lady at the store literally left me speechless.

Love is a hard thing for me to understand. It's hard for me to explain why -- I'm not even sure that I know. I only know that it's a tricky thing for me, slippery and hard to grasp in my mind. It frightens me -- it keeps me up at night, or wakes me up.

Like last night -- I know I was having a good dream, and that I was with someone who made me happy. I know it was a man, and that we were laughing and having a good time and were happy together. Then, I lost him. He was there one second, and then he was gone. I couldn't find him -- he was just lost. I woke up crying, not really sure why because the details of the dream faded very quickly -- but I felt so scared and so alone. I do remember that it was 4:15 in the morning, and that I haven't felt that devastated in a very long time.

I think I loved the person in the dream. I don't remember who it was. I don't even know if the man was a person that I knew. Losing him, though, was the worst thing ever.

Love. I don't get it. Not just romantic love, either. The dream is just an example of one of the things that worries me. The other loves, like sister, parent, daughter, brother, friend, neighbor, and all of the others -- those worry me, too.

For what is it to love, and to be loved? What is it really?

Hopefully I'll begin to understand it someday.

q and a, yes or no...

Do the new shoes that you bought pinch your feet?

Yes.

Did they in the store when you tried them?

Yes. A little. Yes.

But you bought them anyway?

Yes.

Did you really spend $115 on a hair straightener yesterday?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Did you have the money to buy it?

No. No, I didn't.

Did you even want the straightener?

... No.

Did you talk to that boy yesterday?

Yes.

For 2 hours?

Yes indeed.

Did you send a text about how you like this boy to your sister?

No.

Did you send it to the boy by accident?

... Yes.

You feel like an idiot now, don't you?

.................... Yes.

Do you realize that you don't "like" this boy?

.................................... Yes.

Did you vacuum the floor like you said you would?

No. No, I didn't.

Did you do the dishes?

No.

Did you sleep last night?

No.

Is it because the pain killers didn't help at all?

Yes.

You still haven't called that doctor, have you?

No. I haven't.

Do you realize that you're a mess right now?

... Yes.

Has there been anything good that happened in the last 24 hours?

YES.

Did the guy who attacked Callie really get 20 years in prison rather than just 15?

Why, yes, actually. Yes, he did.

glue...

Sometimes I feel that all I can do is focus on holding myself together, forcing myself to dwell on the good things rather than the not so good things. And it makes things easier to bear. And it makes it easier to fall asleep at night.

I like to remember

...how fun it is to watch any of the extended editions of the Lord of the Rings with someone who hasn't seen the long versions before -- Brianna and I watched The Fellowship of the Ring this afternoon and it was fantastic
...freshly baked cookies topped with cold ice cream
...long talks and big hugs from daddy
...the sudden frequency of huge fluffy, puffy, cotton candy clouds that float over the valley and every so often share their watery burden with us down below
...promises from heaven that are being kept daily
...that I actually look really cute in skirts
...how wonderful it feels to be clean and fresh after a hot shower
...that I don't have to wash dishes or clothes by hand
...that I've been very lucky when it comes to the times I can't handle the physical pain -- so far it's usually been on weekends or holidays when I don't have work or school
...I'm twenty year old single college student with one room mate and I don't live in an apartment -- wow
...my school schedule keeps working out so well -- so do my money worries
...D&C 6:34 -- "Therefore, fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail."
..."Once Upon Another Time"
...the feel of his hand in mine and the sound of his heart beating in my ear

in love with love...

A preview of what's starting off to be a fantastic weekend:



I'm obsessed with these two. Really.

#inlovewithlove

the way it was...

I remember
...sitting next to you at lunch, making up stories about the people passing by.
...dancing with you.
...going with you to the credit recovery program the high school offered after school so you wouldn't have to be by yourself.
...walking to the park and swinging on the swings for hours until I got sick and we laid in the grass before going back home.
...the afternoon that I got in my first wreck -- it was also the first time you held me when I cried.
...trying not to get caught looking at you in choir class.
...that I was one of the few people who could ever surprise you.
...our first fight, onstage during our ballroom performance in the dance concert at the end of the school year.
...when you came to my house late at night to apologize, and how I couldn't help but forgive you.
...the afternoon in the parking lot during the rainstorm, where you twirled me around and around as the rain drenched us while we laughed.
...how you laughed at how shocked I was the first time you kissed me on the cheek -- and how I cried when you drove away after saying good-bye for the summer.
...the night you called me when you were gone for the summer and we talked for four hours.
...the look on your face when I gave you your birthday present.
...when I fell asleep on your shoulder on the bus ride home when we were on choir tour.
...that summer night under the cherry tree, blossoms all pink and white, and you asked me to dance with you before you drove me home.
...the first time you told me that you loved me.


I'm glad I can remember you now and smile. I didn't think I'd ever get to this point. It feels good.

lately...

...thinking...
...it's unfortunate that someone so talented as you are can be so unkind. Just because you're one of the big names in the BYU music department doesn't give you a right to treat your students in such a truly rude fashion. That isn't teaching -- teaching is building, not breaking. Build trust, build talent, build excellence -- build people.
...people who are cruel to animals, even mice, make me sick. So sick that yes, I did start to cry during my Stats class today.
...what is it to love someone? Really. What is it?
...I'm not sure why I don't want to talk to people anymore, or go anywhere. It just doesn't appeal to me right now. At all.

...doing...
...why, yes, I did write an 8-page paper on the day that it was due. Happiness for first drafts. Time to revise it.
...wore flip flops to school today. Almost barefoot on a beautiful spring day.
...my dad told me that Pinterest was a waste of time. Then I made German pancakes. He asked me what I'd pinned this week, and if I needed him to go to the grocery store to get anything for a new recipe. #heartDaddy
...despite feeling (dare I say being) very against any social contact with people, I did text Parker last night, and he and I went to a movie. We Bought a Zoo. So cute. Little girl -- beagle -- Spar -- happy soundtrack -- good movie. Best part? Spending time with Parker. Love that guy. Best buds.
...too many bad dreams. Waking up to sunshine is a nice change.

...feeling...
...my Humanities professor said this: "Now, Georgie here really shows her purity and dearness with her comment about how people are all hypocrites but all doing their best despite that. You can tell she's a really sweet, dear girl." Turned a bad day around and I was all glowy inside. Still a little glowy.
...often near tears...not sure why...just the way it goes sometimes.
...back to We Bought a Zoo, let me say that I haven't smiled during a movie so much as I did last night. I've thought about it sometimes today and I just grin.
...tired. Very, very tired.
...empty?



PS Happy Pi Day

best Valentine's Day ever...

Today was the first time I have gone to a BYU devotional this semester. I actually had time. Two words: absolutely awesome. Read why here.

Amazing talk.
My Marriage & Family class is always good, but today was great. We talked about (guess) love and charity in the marriage/family relationship. Mostly we defined love. We also talked about the right way to use our language regarding love, and to make sure the love we express is appropriate.

In general terms, the four types of love defined by the Greeks:
1. Philos, or the love between friends
2. Storge, or familial love
3. Eros, or romantic love
4. Agape, "great love", often defined as charity but really going deeper than that

Great lesson.
Remember that 800 word children's article I had to write? I got it back today. Teacher comment:

"Georgie,

Seriously? You astonish me! An excellent article!! Thank you! Disney is a huge subject to tackle--even the creation of Mickey is still broad, but you deftly crafted an angle about spatial relationships that is focused and fascinating. The addition of your fun facts and definitions are engaging. Well done. Brava!"

Score = 100%

Day = made.
The last three weeks at work have been spent doing almost nothing but blowing up and tying balloons. I'm not even kidding, that's all we've done. So, probably 5,000 balloons later (I'm dead serious, I've prepared so many), I decided it was time to get some of my own. I picked out my balloons, blew them up, tied pretty ribbons on them, arranged and knotted them into a bouquet, and, using the very last red balloon weight in the whole store, finished off my Valentine bouquet. And...I kind of love it.

Ingredients:
3 Valentine print mylar balloons
2 clear damask printed latex balloons
3 black damask printed latex balloons
2 red with black polka dots latex balloons
2 red with white polka dots latex balloons
1 red balloon weight
lots of red, white, black, and silver curling ribbon

Super cute, right?


Happy Valentine's Day to me!

love isn't only about romance...

Valentine's Day. It's been a conversation piece at work and school for the past month. You know what? I'm sick of two things about it:

1. People who constantly squeal about how excited they are for it because of their significant other
2. People who constantly complain about how much they hate it because of their lack of a significant other

I used to think I was impartial to this holiday. And then I got to thinking about it more. I don't have neutral feelings about it at all. Despite my lack of a significant other (which, right now, I am so grateful for), I love Valentine's Day. Why? Let me tell you:

There is always, always, always someone who needs to be reminded that they are loved. It doesn't even need to be a holiday to show someone that they are cared for.

I'm excited for Valentine's Day because it's a day I get to show others I care about them. I care that they are alive. The people I know and love and hold dear, they deserve to know that I love them! People I've never met before, people I'll never see again. They're important in this world! Every person is important, whether you personally know their name or not. That's part of what makes everyone so very special: despite the billions on the planet and the potential to become insignificant, no one truly is.

This Valentine's Day, I ask you to think less of yourself and your relationship status. Think more of those who may be struggling less than, as much as, or more than yourself. Be it a single mother, a child in a dysfunctional or even functional home, a widow or widower, a person down on their luck, a customer at your workplace, a teacher, a friend, a family member, or even the dog down the road--all need to know they are loved.

Those who are loved, take some time out to share it with another person. Those who don't think that they are loved, go out and find it in loving someone else.

he thinks I'm pretty...

There have only been two times in my life when I have absolutely, one-hundred percent believed a man when he told me that I am beautiful. The first time I frightened the poor boy half to death by sliding to the floor with tears streaming down my face as I realized that I believed what he was saying. His mother heard me crying and came running into the room exclaiming, "What did you DO to her?!" His confused response, "All I said was she's beautiful!"

The second time was last night after work. I was being a horribly self-centered child, thinking only about the things going on in my life and how desperately I wanted to escape work due to the constant near-tears state I was in. As I started to leave, a coworker caught me and asked me to come talk to him in his car. He's hard to argue with, so I complied.

He let me talk for quite awhile before interjecting any comments. When he did, I was amazed at the honesty in his face. He looked me right in the eye and told me that he thinks I'm beautiful, not because of the make-up or the clothes I wear or how tall or thin I am, but because I'm me. When he looks at me, he sees his gorgeous, funny, intelligent, love able, cute, wise, incredible friend who he enjoys spending time with because of who I am. He doesn't love me based on the way I look. He loves me because he knows me.

And you know what? I believe him. I may not be able to transpose his viewpoint to my own yet, but I believe him. Do you know how incredible that feels? All of it. It's incredible.

All day long, every time something would start to bother me or I'd start feeling sad, I was able to shrug it off and say with a smile, "Who cares? He thinks I'm pretty."