It Is What It Is.

What Sarah Said.

2012-02-18T14:45:00.001-08:00

I don't think I've ever had a longer day in my life, and this song just kept playing on repeat in my head.

“Salvation and eternal life would not be possible if it were not for the Atonement, brought about by our Savior, to whom we owe everything. But in order for these supreme blessings to be effective in our lives, we should first do our part, ‘for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.’ Let us with faith, enthusiasm, dedication, responsibility, and love do all that is within our reach, and we will be doing all that is possible to achieve the impossible—that is, to achieve what for the human mind is impossible but with the divine intervention of our loving Father and the infinite sacrifice brought about by our Savior becomes the greatest gift, the most glorious of realities, to live forever with God and with our families.” Jorge F. Zeballos

Courage.

2012-02-17T20:11:00.000-08:00

Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage.
-Maya Angelou-

Cinderella.

2012-02-15T09:22:00.000-08:00

I had a really fun adventure yesterday. I had to take some pictures for my technology in learning class or whatever, and this is how they turned out. I haven't had a chance to edit them just yet (that's our activity in class tonight). So, here they are in their rawest form. It ended up that it was quite a foggy Valentine's Day, but also... quite a good one. Which I am happy about.

Because, do you ever just have days where you wake up sad? That was totally me yesterday. I must have had some terrible dreams, because I just woke up SO sad. Which is weird for me, and also weird for Valentine's Day. Because usually I love it. It's a whole day where we get to celebrate how great loving someone is! How fantastic is that? I don't care who you are, that is just awesome. Being alone on Valentine's Day has never really made me sad. So who knows, right? Maybe I had a nightmare in which Sarah McLachlan and her wet dogs commercial played on repeat, over, and over again. Listen. It's not that I don't support the ASPCA and all that they do, it's just that I CANNOT watch that commercial without crying/wanting to give my college tuition to save the animals.

Luckily, it took a turn for the better real fast. It was really, really nice of my Aunt Sheral to let me use her nice camera, as my mine doesn't even respond to the zoom function these days. Its glory days may soon come to a close. It was also really nice of her to let me into her lovely home on Valentine's Day and feed me real food. Real GOOD food. We had so much fun, driving around, looking for textures, and "stalking people" as Paige so bluntly called it... it's fine. You gotta start 'em young. I love that family, and my Aunt Sheral. I love the way her house feels. If my house is half that happy/funny when I grow up, I am going to be so happy. I look up to her so much.

Did you know that I have a post with this same title years ago? True story. Totally do. It was about a boy who called me his Cinderella - totally jokingly, but tender nonetheless - and then awkwardly sort-of-dumped me on the eve of my fifteenth birthday (as much as you can dump someone when they're fifteen and you're not actually dating) and the beginning of high school. That was sufficiently awkward, but then also... when I walked into my first period of my first day of high school... he was in my class. And we had to sit next to each other. Hhaahaha. It was so awesome. (As you picture these instances, I ask you to please remember that I was even more flat-chested than I am now, and my hands got even sweatier when I was nervous. I promise it will only add to the reading experience.) And then in an ironic turn of events, on Halloween that fall, I ended up in his driveway in a Cinderella dress and we made eye contact and remembered and it was really awkward because neither of us cared to remember. OH THE TEEN ANGST. We never even held hands.

Welp. This post title originated from a thought process far more sinister, and far less tender. I think I may have tread on a crime scene today, folks. It's cool. There was just a heap of leaves over lumpy ground with a tarp sticking out. And all KINDS of evidence.

Just a tarp? :/

Let's just talk about Mr. Jogger. When we happened upon him, he was struggling. And it was uncomfortable for everyone. And I think he knew it was. Because he turned around and re-ran the route we saw him running in the first place. Every movement of his body cried, "Do-over, do-over!" It was kind of awesome. After he showed us he could do it, and do it much better than we had seen it done, he continued on his run. I loved it.

Watercolor horizon. That picture is just screaming for text in the sky.

Incidentally, my Valentine. She wrote a note and asked me. So.

I really, really wish I knew how to use a camera. Because nice cameras are SO cool and so is life. So.... cool, I guess. Let me know if you have any ideas as to who dead Cinderella could be...? Or like, if she is in a condition where she still has feet to wear that shoe...? Horrifying.

Also. Tell me what to be when I grow up. I'm not kidding. THANKS.

Happy He[art] Day.

2012-02-14T05:27:00.000-08:00

^My wrapping skillz and my purple feets^

Have you ever noticed, that you cannot write the word heart without including the words he and art?

I have actually been thinking about it a lot lately, and I'm here to tell you, I'm pretty sure it's no coincidence.

I am full of all kinds of love today.

I love the gospel.

I LOVE my beautiful family, and everything they do for me.

And, I really, really love making art. I'm not very good at it, but it makes me happy. As it happens, I've been making a whole lot of it lately.

Sorry I can't get a quality picture of my finished product to save my life. Just know that it turned out exactly how I wanted it to:

Also, peanut butters. I... love it. I recently just ran out of chunky... and I feel like all Hell is going to break loose?

Anyway. I really, really love my life. And I love all the people in it. So thank you! :)

Happy He[art] Day! I hope you have a good one!!

Happy Tears.

2012-02-10T14:37:00.001-08:00

This made me cry. In such a good, good way. :)

Enjoy it!

Real facts, in my mind.

2012-02-06T14:44:00.000-08:00

1. Oh, there's some mold in your bread? How big is it? Smaller than a thimble? Just cut that part off. That's fine to eat.

2. If you're having a bad day, where you're discouraged, lonely, whatever - think to yourself, what would make me happy right now? If someone did ______ for me? (Don't make it dirty or weird) And then do whatever it is you would love someone to do for you, for someone else. Odds are, someone else is having a day like you, chances are, you will think of the right person to help, and fact IS, it makes you feel 8,000 times better than wallowing. I have proven this study.

3. But how many calories do you think you've burned thinking about whether or not to eat it? It's probably fine.

4. If you've been running for five weeks in a row and your name is Shelby... something is wrong with you? In a good way?

5. The girl in the stall next to me at school today was either bulimic, or a witch. With those noises, it honestly could've gone either way.

6. Nothing is more aggravating than kids who ask the same questions seventy times at the end of class, causing everyone to stay 5 minutes OVER time. You know, the ones that don't realize that the professor has already answered those self-same questions at least eight times to another kid. Calm it down and actually LISTEN.

7. There is something so terrible in chewing something crunchy in what should be a completely soft desert. You reach that pivotal point where it's like, do I just swallow this really fast before I process what this could be, or do I spit it out in front of everyone in the room?

8. The summer should be happening now. And classes are done. A's for everyone! But sincerely. Why... is this still happening? Spring semester in college is like Senioritus, but less fun.

9. Calendars make me feel prestigious.

10. I fell in love with a man's stache in a picture posted on UTA today. I smiled at it occasionally the whole ride home. It wasn't until the stop before mine that I realized it had words below it: This man is to be barred from all UTA services, due to everyday involvements in UTA police. Or something like that. So. Guess you CAN'T judge a stache by its cover.

11. There is nothing more fun than having your mama come surprise you with a hotel room on a Thursday night that is otherwise, bleh. Unless you of course increase the fun by beating up vending machines, eating chips in bed, and watching FAT CHEF. I don't know why, but I just feel like it should be shouted. Every last time it is said.

12. Your mom will not only back you up on a miiiildly untrue story so you can try on a wedding dress just for fun, she will supply it with surprising ease... Yes, yes, it's for a cousin with my exact measurements? WE HAD FUN OKAY.

Welp. I have to go take passport pictures. Seeya later.

There's the ticket.

2012-02-01T12:22:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, you kill yourself over a paper, for an entire 12 hours or more. Then you come to class, and you find out that on Monday, when you were sick, everyone belly-ached your teacher into changing the due date. So here you are with a completed paper and a lack of sanity.

The silver lining? I got my first paper back - just a three paragraph ramble to show that I understand paragraph parts. Written on the bottom, it said, "Good use of paragraph parts - but you ramble a bit" - oh, you think? "However, your style and sense of humor are truly outstanding. I am still laughing." That from a teacher who told us he'd never give us nice comments on our papers.

:) Well. If that doesn't just put a smile one your sleep-deprived face, I don't know what will. Also, a kid approached me on campus and invited me into a Shakespeare club because of my jacket, which has Shakespeare wearing sunglasses on the back. He's on the board of producers for Grassroots Shakespeare. Knew I wore this jacket today for a reason.

AND. Now I have time to brush up an already decent paper before it is due, time before my next class to take the bus home and finally wash some pants to wear ( don't talk about it..) AND FINALLY SOME TIME TO NAP. :)

I like lists.

2012-01-31T09:59:00.000-08:00

I was creeping on my friend Marissa's blog today. She made a list. I love lists. I like to send people letters with creepy lists in them, of all the love I have for them. It's kind of my THING.

Anyway. Here is a list of my thoughts right now:

1. Why is the education building the coldest on campus? All I want to do is be warm, but there's not a hospitable chair or heat vent to be had.

2. I have just finished reading ten or more 15 page, peer-reviewed journals for my research paper. I highlighted them, made notes in the margins, and organized them according to relevance. As for the actual paper? It's due tomorrow, and I haven't actually written that much of it. Or any. I feel like with all the researching I've done... that should just count. And I should just be done. Grade my scribbled notes and forget a 3-5 page paper. Amen.

3. When people disregard the fact that we are sitting in a quiet study area, I just want to look at them and be like, Really? But then, I know in my heart, I wish I was talking rather than doing homework as well.

4. Sleep is the reason I look forward to the weekend. I feel like it's my almost-boyfriend, and the thought of a nap is better than the promise of a date after a long week of school.

5. Getting mail is one of my favorite things in the world. But not getting mail when you expect it is one of the worst. Word up.

6. Whenever I pack a lunch, I eat it all before it's actually lunch time. The worst, right?

7. I love church. So much. Self-righteous people? Not so much.

8. I'm kind of fascinated with how white I've become lately. Can human skin look like that?

9. I love when people wear their hoods all the time, and they're being serious. No. Legitimately, I love it. I feel like I'm doing my homework next to some kind of super-hero.

10. All I want to do right now is put the painting in my head on paper. I even have new paints and pencils. What I don't have is the time. WHAT IS THIS.

Welp. Seeya later.

Always.

2012-01-26T12:39:00.000-08:00

I have always loved this quote. And this is as rant-y as I'm going to get about it, because I'm being positive this year, so let me just say, some people I know need to read this. That is all. :)

“Aim high, but do not aim so high that you totally miss the target. What really matters is that he will love you, that he will respect you, that he will honor you, that he will be absolutely true to you, that he will give you the freedom of expression and let you fly in the development of your own talents. He is not going to be perfect, but if he is kind and thoughtful, if he knows how to work and earn a living, if he is honest and full of faith, the chances are you will not go wrong, that you will be immensely happy.” - Gordon B. Hinckley

The Year for Fire.

2012-01-23T18:04:00.000-08:00

So, I had an fantastic Saturday.

First of all, I saw my beautiful friend Sydney open for Matt Costa with the lovely band she is a part of, Brady Parks and the IndiAnns. I am not lying when I tell you that they are one of my favorite bands at the moment. Their music makes me feel, which is what all good art should do. You should check them out! They really have an amazing thing going, and I love seeing them play.

Then, I spotted Hailey Haugen and her fiance nearby in the crowd. I realize I sound like a king-creep when I tell you that it was so delightful for me, but come on, people. Her talent is amazing, and their love is just happy. I love her videos! You should go to their blog, and seriously, it would not be a waste of your day to watch every single one. You will be happier after, I promise you that. She's a part of Haugen Creative and I am constantly impressed by their ability to creatively capture love, and the beauty of the world that we live in. And can I just say, I was legitimately nervous to tell her how much I love her videos? I'm not a nervous one, but she's pretty nearly a celebrity, you know? And I felt so creepy. :/ Because I don't know if it's irritating to have people so involved with your life or not? But she was the loveliest person, and so gracious about it. She gave me a hug, asked me my name, and we talked a little about life and it was sort of an answer to a prayer. Her fiance is ridiculously nice as well, and it was just HAPPY. And kind of awesome. When they are world famous, I'm going to tell people I met them one time and that they were just lovely. Please check their stuff out! They're wonderful, and an inspiration to help people create. :)

Um, something cool that I thought of Saturday was how Heavenly Father often answers our prayers with other people, whether that's a perfectly timed email, an apology, a reunion, whatever it may be. Life is cool, and so is God.

Also, I had a chance to play some Twister in an elevator, on my way up to a Chinese New Years party. Picture a classroom in the BYU student center, with all the lights off, with red and yellow streamers coming from the ceiling. There are a couple plates of cookies on one wall under a lamp, along with party noise-makers. There's a whole lot of awkward floating around, and there's top 40 music playing at full blast. Translation? Had the best dance party I've had in a while. I can't dance, but I really like to pretend.

It got me to thinking, I didn't know what animal it was for the Chinese New Year! Which is a traveshamockery - a travesty, a sham, and a mockery. I know I was born in the year of the rooster. Gobble, gobble. Anyway. Jalynn - she's the one I'm somewhat spooning in elevator twister, SORRY - texted me today and informed me that it is the year of the dragon.

Well, my friends. That seems pretty fitting to me. I recharged my batteries, had some fun, got some creative inspiration, and well. It is the year for fire. :)

I have been asked.

2012-01-21T08:59:00.000-08:00

I received a few texts requesting the tale of the scary man on campus who tried to pick me up. I realize that sounds like I'm lying, since no one actually commented on that post. But. I do have friends. And if you don't believe me, that's just going to make this story all the more whimsical, I suppose. No dancing around it, I'm just going to jump straight in this story. I can tell you honestly that it was the most weirded out I've been in a long, long time. And it takes a lot to weird me out.

So there I was, in some remote corner of Sparks Automotive, writing my paper for my next class. (Hey, mom, it was already written. I just had to fix my references and word choice.) My last class ends a little after noon, and my next class isn't until five. Therefore, I'm stuck on campus for hours, and it's like this between almost all my classes. This is the the reason I never have homework at my actual home anymore, and therefore, eat more cookies than you think is humanly possible, and watch way more online TV than is probably okay. 8 episodes in three days is healthy, right? RIGHT?

Well, for some reason, at this time in the afternoon, that part of Sparks Automotive is DESERTED. Which is weird, because usually people are crowding up those study tables. I was legitimately wondering if school got cancelled and I just didn't know about it. It was all gray outside, and I felt like it was a ghost town. But.. a ghost college? It's fine. Anyway. It's quiet enough that I hear peoples' every conversation as they walk by and down the stairs.

Some kid walks by with his friend, and reaches the stairs and says he forgot something. He tells her to go on ahead, and he'll catch up with her later. All the sudden he's vanished from the stairs and appeared at the chair across from me. I glance up, and he's just full-on staring at me. He says, "I thought I'd be stupid if I didn't come talk to you."

I'm thinking, oh, because he forgot something and is looking for it. Right. I heard that. Or is he in one of my classes? This always happens to me. They ask me the homework and I say, for which class again? And then it gets mildly uncomfortable because I didn't remember them. So I say, "...Why?"

And he says, "Cause you're wicked gorgeous." ... He's kidding, right? I uncomfortable laugh because I don't know what else to do. "Oh, my gosh," he says in a half-sick voice. "That like, made my stomach drop. Your smile is amazing." Welp. This is the point when I pull out my Jim Halpert face and eagerly remember something I was typing. He cools it for a minute and we talk majors, where-are-you-froms, and what's-your-next-classes. He's stumbling on words, saying how nervous he is and how he never does this. But it feels really, really intentional. Listen. I saw a lot of high school theatre. Some of it amazing, some of it not so great. I recognize bad acting. He tells me his name is Shea, you know, like the body butter. Are red flags appearing so rapidly you can't even read my words? Or is that just me? Keep in mind I'm giving you a toned-down, summed-up version. Most of the scary stuff is just a blur.

I am now focusing so hard on my references that I am beginning to wish I had used more, even though it's only a two page response paper. Finally he asks, "What are you doing right now?"

"I'm writing a paper that's due, for my next class," I say. I feel like that's pretty pointed, isn't it?

"What are you doing after your next class? I really want to take you out to eat, and I'd definitely be willing to wait on campus for you, even for hours."

"Well, I'm actually hanging out with my Aunt." It's sort of true. She had to pick me up because my car's giving up the ghost and it was raining. The drive to my apartment is 15 minutes long. You can have a decent hang out in 15 minutes, I feel.

"Hanging out with your aunt, ohhh, okay," he says. He winks, like we're conspiring together, or like I'm playing hard to get. Um, sir? I'm not playing anything but freaked out of my mind. "Well, let me get your number and I'm going to take you out as soon as possible." Oh. Now people appear. Everyone's there, suddenly. Watching the moment happen. WARNING: I am about to do something stupid and totally out of character. I am flustered. People do not approach me like this, ever. I only went to three boys choice dances all through high school. All of which were with way good friends, almost brothers. So.. I give him my number. My real one. WAIT WHAT??! I am horrified, there is a terrible feeling in my gut, and I gave him. My. Real. Number.

He stands up, satisfied. He walks over to the stairs, about five feet from where I am. My phone goes off. I think it's my mom, so I open the text. "It's Shea! ;-) Thanks for making me so nervous, ha. Wow." He's watching... so I just say something like... Didn't mean to? He walks down the stairs. "BYE CUTIE!" he calls up the cement stairs. Cutie, cutie, cutiiiie. It echoes, and I cringe. I try to focus back on my paper, which I have now messed up beyond repair, because, I feel so weird about this. Why do I feel like I'm talking to straight-death? Doesn't really fit that well when citing an online source in APA format.

Finally, I have it mostly fixed, and I chat my sister. She is freaking out, too. I know this all doesn't sound like a big deal, but the feeling I got was terrible. And she somehow got it, too. "WHY ARE YOU STILL SITTING THERE WHERE HE CAN FIND YOU?!" she demanded. Her reaction has me flash-backing to The Clothesline Project, where I read about fifty stories identical to this one. Handsome kid, approaches you, seems genuine, flatters the crap out of you for a couple weeks, even months, and then... BAM. You know how this ends. Am I saying he was going to rape me? Dude, no. I know that's a really harsh assumption to make and a crazy place to jump. I mean, I have been watching a lot of Criminal Minds, but mostly, I can just tell you... I just felt weeeeeeird about it. Like I did not want this kid to have any information on me.

So I move. I go to my class, conveniently and terrifyingly off campus. By this point, I've received another text. "I think that was your plan, to sit over there and lure me in. Make me so nervous you had the upper hand." No. It wasn't my plan. Please pick up on the fact that I'm not texting back.

Later that night, he texts and asks what my last name is. I don't reply. I know this game. This game is why yearbooks and class rolls were invented. Now you're gonna stalk my Facebook. There's a reason I only accept friend requests from people I know, sir. There's a reason it's air tight. And there is a reason I didn't give you my last name.

He texts me the next morning. He says, "Hey you. I woke up thinking about you." All right, listen. I know enough from eighth grade health class to know that that is something I never want to hear from a stranger. Too blunt? I'm just sayin'. I don't reply.

He texts me later that night, past a full 24 hours since I have said anything to him. He says, "Hey. I have a question for you." I'm talking to my mom about it, and feeling like maybe I'm a jerk. Maybe this question will be the perfect segway into explaining that I'm not interested, or that I'm uncomfortable, or severely off-put by the way he approached, or just the fact that he is a stranger. I just know, I really don't want to spend alone time with him.

So after some talking with my mom, I reply. I say, "What's the question?" He says, "I've been talking to my brother nonstop about the most amazing girl I met, named Shelby. He doesn't believe me. So do you think you could do me a favor and send me a picture? I'll send you one if you send me one." ... K, here's the thing. Sending pictures? This feels like eighth grade, and even if you just mean a facial shot, this also feels like somewhat like sexting. I'll be honest. Plus, I DO NOT KNOW YOU. Also, remember Cody? Oh, yeah. My boyfrannnn! He lives in Hawaii, but he's still alive. Anyway. Remember him? The only pictures I ever sent of myself were to him. And there were of my face. We were playing the ugly face game. Needless to say, they were not any kind of sexual. So. THANKS. (P.s. I'm the reigning champ. To this day.)

After further consultation with my mom, I replied with this, "Um. Listen, I am sure you are really nice, and I'm flattered. But honestly, I'm really, really uncomfortable. I don't know you at all, and your approach was forward." I send it. And my mama and I agonize over the fact that even though he was scary, and I have a creepy feeling in my gut about it, that is pretty harsh. We think he'll just never reply. And I do feel bad. That's a pretty big shut down. He'll never reply, though, so oh well.

But he does. About an hour later, he says, "Wow! Thank you for being so honest with me. I'll be honest with you, I have no idea how I could have come across that way. Give me the chance to better my mistake. Just give me a day alone with you. You'll have fun and you won't regret it, I promise."

...My mama and I decided I would just.. not reply. I was just so taken aback by the whole situation. See, people like that will never mesh well with me. I wonder if he could ever understand that I fell in love with a boy through creepy polygamist jokes, hypothetical text situations, a mutual love of all things outside, mustaches, mullets, art, good music, and some sort of unspoken agreement to pretend we weren't in love for waaaay too long.

Anyway. Horrifying. Now I have to find a new study spot on campus. ASAP.

**He just texted me. Again. After I didn't reply to that last one. I AM FREAKED OUT.

Nooope?

2012-01-20T22:00:00.000-08:00

Um, we were watching Horton Hears a Who. I was kinda tired because I went running tonight, so I wasn't paying all that much attention. (I have been going for two weeks. I think I like it, but I don't wanna jinx it. Don't talk about it. I'm not fit.)

The last line of that story is, as you'll recall, "A person is a person, no matter how small."

I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy and sliiightly stinky, when out of NOWHERE, my roommate says, in a voice you'd use when interrogating a serial killer, "That's a really good quote against abortion. I'm going to write that down."

She's... dead serious.

But it was Dr. Suess for cryin' out loud? Bless her heart.

Days like today.

2012-01-18T14:00:00.000-08:00

Today has been a pretty solid day. I'm in a really good mood, seeing as I don't have my early class on MWF for the next two weeks. I'm doing homework and eating apple sauce in a deserted corner of the Automotive building. A guy just did a pec dance to himself as he walked by. Thanks. Mostly it's pretty chill, except for the fact that on days like today, when it's all gray and muggy outside, and I'm just waiting for it to become an unholy snow storm... All I want to do is get on a plane and go to Hawaii. Wait, what? Yeah. No. I reaaaaally, really do. MAYBE even Hilo. Who said that?

*******Okay, it's later. Now it is a weird. Weird. WEIRD day. I just got hit on in such a fashion that I... literally have no idea what to say. Do you know how weird that is for me? Do you want to hear this story? Do you not? I? Can't form complete thoughts because? I'm so weirded out?

Hey Girl.

2012-01-17T15:59:00.000-08:00

I saw a monologue once, called Laughing Wild. Mostly the girl was ridiculously talented and it was a weird/cool monologue. Anyway. Today, I was laughing a lot. But I looked kind of crazy, because as often happens in college, I was... alone... most of the day. You know. By myself. Laughing my head off. I think funny THINGS, okay?!

It's weird that I turned out so jolly today, because when I rolled out of bed this morning, after a late night scrubbing our bathroom for cleaning check, I was not happy to be awake. Okay. Side track real fast. NO ONE ELSE CLEANS THAT THING WHEN IT'S THEIR TURN IN THE ROTATION. A wipe of a Clorox wipe does not a clean shower make! I feel like I am taking crazy pills. There are so many goobies nommin' on our shower goods, and everyone else feels fine about it! And hello, there are four girls using this shower, and none of us are bald. So much hair in the drain. I feel this is how they make muppets, like Elmo and Grover. Just collect drain hair and dye it. There is so much to be had!

Anyway. Somewhere between scraping frost off my windshield - or attempting to, since it proved unscrapable, and driving to school, I became nearly giddy. I think it might've been my Lord of the Rings soundtrack. I can't be certain. The sun was just shining and I was just smiling? In my car by myself like a crazy person? I wasn't even mad when all the parking spots were filled and I had to park in the education building's visitor parking. I thought, they'll NEVER know, cause it's too cold to check out here this early. And I was right.

And my first class consists of mostly just talking.. not a lot of homework ever. We just do observations at the local elementary school and talk about them. PROWLING ON THE KIDZ. I don't know why I wanted to make that have a Z. I just really did, in that moment. I feel like using Z's instead of S's makes whatever you're saying ten times trashier. I kind of love it, when I'm in the mood for trashy. It just makes me laugh a lot. You know what else was making me laugh a lot? I was eating my breakfast during class, and the girl next to me was trollin' UP on my yogurt. Hahahaha. Like... could you literally remove your nose from the square inch proximity of my yogurt? She was watching my every move and it got hard to swallow the strawberry goodness around suppressed laughter.

Also, I spent an inordinate amount of time at the grocery store today. I got barely three bags, and most of them toiletries. So, naturally, it was three times as expensive as my usual grocery shopping is. For some reason, I spent a good ten minutes looking at all the different kinds of toothbrushes. I really couldn't tell you why. But then I was like, what am I doing? And it got really funny to me. There are just so many spinning, non-spinning, and bristle-y options, you know? Just too many.

Plus, I bought flowers for my apartment. Every single one of my roommates asked who they were from. I've said no one at least seven times. I ... only have three roommates. :/What am I supposed to say? Ah just lahke buyin' pretty things for MAHSELF. (To be read in the voice of John Travolta, in his role as Tracy Turnblad's mother.) Dude! I am weird today. And I like it a lot.

Um. There's this bathroom in the education building. Mostly I feel like it is 100 percent not okay. Because you go in, and there's some sort of bizarre outer chamber before the bathroom, and there's a full on doorway to the smaller bathroom, room, but... no door. So you have to go back out and lock the outer door, and the whole time, it's extra-uncomfortable because you feel like you're peeing with the door open. Which is fine, for you know, like girls camp or your house. But, in a bathroom where I can literally hear the lecture to the future high school science teachers of America through the wall, it's almost enough to make one try to hold it ALL DAY. But of course, I wouldn't do that to myself. The other problem is, there's no where to hook your backpack. And I am NOT setting it directly on that tile. So then you have me, awkwardly holding my heavy backpack while unbuttoning my pants one-handed, and then holding it out in front of me with both of my skinny arms like some sort of toilet-time strength-training. It's pretty interesting. Just when you think I've emptied my bladder in the most mission-impossible way possible, there's some sort of crazy beep and then a hiss from the ceiling. I straight up JUMPED. Haahahaha, it took me a second to realize it was one of those air fresheners from the ceiling, that are automated to go off every few minutes. And when I did, I just laughed my head off. Why am I crazy? I don't know. But I'm feeling pretty good about it.

There's a girl in my afternoon class that makes me feel suuuper weird. She was the TA in my class last semester, and for some reason felt the need to stay after one day and tell me and another classmate her birthing story. Which I mean, is cool and all, except for the fact that she used the phrases, "squirting placenta" and "the afterbirth even the nurses missed." I guess you could say it ruined a lot of things for me that day. Oddly, Pinterest, for a while.. since I was trying to pretend I was on it whilst she told us the tale. It's just like that day when you watch the Miracle of Life, you know? I remember walking out of Health and downstairs, where Adam and Ryan were waiting to invite me to lunch at the Nye's. Ryan went to hug me and I was super weird and refused it... as well as lunch. I just... needed a minute.

Another highlight of the day was when Ryan Gosling let me have the right of way at an intersection. No. But really. It was him, via the part in the Notebook where he is heavily bearded. (I still have never seen more than like.. fifteen minutes of that movie. But people reference it like it's as American as apple pie or baseball.)

Anyway. It made me laugh really hard because I thought about those Ryan Gosling pins that are all over Pinterest, that always start with, "Hey girl."

There are a couple tumblrs completely dedicated to Ryan Gosling, "hey girl"ing funny things. I can't take credit for any of these, and you should definitely click and see the funny so credit goes where credit is due.

Anyway. I like to imagine in that moment, he was saying, "Hey girl. I know the right of way is technically mine, but I'm gonna give it to you cause you just look so good in that yellow coat."

Thanks, Ryan.

Moral of the post? I could use a little more sleep.

Here's a Query.

2012-01-15T16:56:00.001-08:00

Here's a little something that's on my mind today... do you ever have someone that you just.. need a minute, from? And they don't give you a minute? They're just constantly in your face with little things that wouldn't normally be TOO big of a deal, but when added in to the constant bucket-sucking they're already doing, you just want to be like, GIVE ME A FREAKING MINUTE! But... you don't. Cause that'd be awkward. But you think it a lot, you know? Like maybe you should buy them a plane ticket somewhere for a week or so, as a "gift." TO MYSELF. I'm sorry I'm mean sometimes. I'm just a firm believer in some space every once in a while. So. That's my query. Does that ever happen to you? Where you just want to be like, hey, 'scuse me, can you get OUT of here? Or? I mean. In the best possible way.

Okay, so you have no idea what I'm talking about. I mostly don't either. Just... sometimes, people. Sometimes.

In other news, I went home for my mama's birthday yesterday! Just for the day. I caught a ride back that night. For her birthday present, I made her a kick-butt sugar free birthday cake, to keep her in the family competition we have going, and to help her keep her New Years resolution. You can see pictures of my work and find the recipe by clicking HERE.

Also, while I was home, I had the opportunity to go to the musical revue at Davis High. It's such a strange feeling to come back to the auditorium. In some ways like I never left, and like I'm late getting back to it - almost like a friend I neglected - and in some ways, feeling like it was a lifetime ago. Want to hear a semi-embarrassing confession? Oh, okay, here goes. Sometimes, in my head, in a funny voice, naturally, I imagine all the possible professions I could have that would allow me to still be a part of theatre at Davis High. DON'T YOU EVER USE THAT AGAINST ME. I know! People like me drive me crazy. Coming to all the old events, creepin' on the kids. Like let it GO. Your time there is over. I swear I'm not that person? But I can't lie, I just love the feeling that is there, and seeing the end results. Anyway. If we could all just, not dwell on the fact that I feel that way, it'd be real cool. I'm sorry I'm just the ultimate Uncle Rico of life. I swear I'm not that bad at living in the past! I really like the present. I'm just tender, all right. UGH.

Anyway. It brought back many a happy memory, and reminded me of my deep, deep love for music and performance, and the ways they can touch and change people. They can make people feel. So, I wanted to share with you three songs that really made me feel last night. And please just know that these YouTube gems I'm giving to you have nothing on what I was given last night.

This song, I had never heard before. And I fell so in love with. Just listening to it feels cheap after the way I saw it performed last night, but here you are:

This song... Well. Syd Howard did the narration, and she talked about her beautiful son Duncan. Ry-guy gave me a heads up about it beforehand, but I still wasn't prepared for the overwhelmingly beautiful spirit of LOVE that was there. Katie Peterson sat next to me, and we expected we would tear up... but we bawled. Like the alone-in-your-room, hope-no-one-ever-sees-me-or-they'll-think-I-always-drool/cry/look-purple-and-puffy, kind of cry. And I remembered one of the very best compliments I got in theatre was one day, while I was playing with Syd's granddaughter Londyn and talking to Andra, she stopped and looked me straight in the eye and said, "Duncan would've loved you." And so the lights came up, on everyone with their little piece of orange, and they sang Homeward Bound. Here is the best version I could find on YouTube:

Mmm. ^^I love me a good male voice. Anyway. They ended the night with Seasons of Love. And if you've ever been in Productions, known someone who was, had a kid who was, or just gone to go, you know how this song ends:

TEARS. It ends in TEARS, okay?! All right. I'm done being the embarrassingly super-senior-ish. Sooooorrrrry! :/

Quote of the Day.

2012-01-12T18:20:00.000-08:00

As I walked up to the desk in the library today, to check out a book of plays for my theatre class, the lady at the desk said the following to herself:

"Everyday, I think, I'm gonna check the obituaries. Make sure I'm not in 'em."

I mean...? Welp. Is "have a nice day" really going to fix this?

Oh, so.

2012-01-11T11:31:00.000-08:00

So I forgot to tell you, buuuut.

I decided.

And.

I'm going to China this fall. Mid-August to mid-December. Four months. In a foreign country. Teaching some KIDS. I'm really excited. And really freaked out. But in a good way. It doesn't feel even remotely real yet. :/ CHINA. It's gonna be amazing.

Anyway. The problem with doing cool things, is that they cost MONEYS. The organization I am going through is suuuper affordable comparitively, but it still costs money. EVERYTHING IN LIFE COSTS MONEY.

The point of this post is, if you know anyone who will be hiring in the Davis County area in April... Please, please, please let me know.

I really need a yob!

Also. This was so weird, but I felt like a GENIUS today in theatre because I was the only one thinking outside the box and giving my teacher the kind of answers he was looking for. The awesome kids were miffed.

I'm not really a genius. But, it was nice to feel anything but awkward in there. That's alls I'm saying. Also. A kid named Chris likes my yellow coat. He may or may not like boys too. All I know is he has great taste in coats.

Rasputin.

2012-01-09T07:22:00.000-08:00

The bus was in rare form today.

Seriously. I waited in the cold, and exchanged more awkward than normal looks with those waiting nearby, and I had the fine sense that the day was about to take a turn... FOR THE BETTER! You think I'm being sarcastic, but I sincerely am not. It was so delightful.

So, somewheres along the route, Rasputin boarded and plopped down in front of me. Only it was his slightly more terrifying, and intensely dirtier half-brother. Never before have such greasy locks pinned my hand as I brushed by. Seriously, it was like being stuck in mud. The best part is, that he didn't notice.

Later, the bus driver announced that all the Sandhill Road stops were closed, and that we'd be going straight to UVU from this point on all week. Most of us said, "Thanks for telling us" (although, honestly, if we're already on the bus, it doesn't affect our life at all.) and went back to bussing. Well, some gentleman in the back decided to pretty much declare himself deputy of do-goodery. "THERE ARE SO MANY STOPS ON THAT ROAD!" he cried, impassioned. Everyone around him quickly remembered something they'd forgotten in their bags, or on their shoe. He kept yelling with such fervor that I was sure he'd pull a gun.

So you can imagine my lack of surprise when he stood up, and strode down the middle of the bus and up to the driver, to confront him. AFTER ALL, COULDN'T HE REOPEN THE ROAD? THINK OF ALL THOSE PEOPLE! The bus driver told him he'd get him as close as he could if that was his stop. The man suddenly dropped his mental savagery (something I can only imagine rivaled Ted Bundy) and smiled. "Oh, no," he said, "I don't need that stop. I'm goin' to UVU." Of course you are.

He strides on back, smiling at all of us. You're welcome, his glittering eyes say. Also, I may still kill you all, they add subtly. Oh. I guess I should mention he looked just like Rumpelstiltskin, or Mr. Gold, on Once Upon A Time. Go ahead, Google that crap. Only he was like... a Western version?

Once the man took his seat, Rasputin's brother decided to look back and see what all the fuss was about. He has those glasses, you know, that get dark when you go outside. Well. Somehow, on our forty minute bus ride, they haven't lightened up again. So he's craning back over his shoulder farthest away from the man, to get a look at him. Or get a look at me. His eyes kept rolling in such crazy ways that I legitimately cannot be sure just where he was trying to aim those suckers. They were literally just DANCIN' around in his head behind his half-shades/half-glasses. I cannot even fathom moving my eyeballs in such a manner. But. I'd like to learn.

A hush fell over the bus, because awkward thrives on UTA like aquatic hitchhikers on an uncleaned boat. (Oh, I'm sorry... it's been three years and those billboards are still hilarious if read in the proper voice. So.)

Well, there's a brave lad up front who seems to know the kid next to him, though they've sat in silence the majority of the ride.

"So," he says, "How's your girlfriend?"

"Pregnant."

The whole bus seems to shudder. We wait.

He's... not kidding. :/ Or happy.

Finally, feeling like we've all survived some sort of uncomfortable, near-death experience that inexplicably bonded us/made us all never want to meet again, we reach UVU. Rumpelstiltskin is the first to hop off. "THANKS BUS DRIVER!" he says, giving him a salute. When the bus driver makes no answer, the man answers himself. "OH, YOU'RE WELCOME, YOU'RE A PLEASURE TO DRIVE!"

I speed walk off into the distance, and try to find my first class, which incidentally is located at Platform 9 3/4 based on visibility from a map, or locatability. Just made that a word. Muggle moments, am I right, people?

My theatre teacher is a man. I don't know why I feel so awkward about that, but I kinda do. I figured out I've only ever taken art from a woman. I don't think I have man issues, but hey, I don't know. Plus it's like... part of me wanted to walk in and see Andra. Or someone from my class. OKAY ALL OF ME. Shut up. There were a couple kids who thought they were God's gift to awesome. And I'm sure they are very talented. I thought about setting them on fire a couple times. It's whatever. (I'm kidddding!) Just mostly... I don't like when people go on, and onnnn, and discount the abilities of others.

My English teacher reminds me of my Great Uncle Wallace. If my Great Uncle Wallace were determined to fail our every paper to help us learn. But I mean, hey. At least he gave us a heads up. I can respect that.

The day ended with a large, bearded man in a trench-coat, yelling across campus in a voice that caused glaciers to fall, "Heeeeeey, you little SHITS!" Then he howled like a wolf.

(MOM, I'm quoting. I would NEVER yell that across campus.)

Anyway. It was a colorful day around town, people. A colorful day. This semester's gonna be a funny one. :) Hahaha.

I have no resolutions.

2012-01-03T16:48:00.000-08:00

Oh hey. So, the thing is, 2011 proved to be immensely good to me. Sometimes it tried to kick my butt. I like to think that I kicked back, and I've come out of it a pretty happy gal. Which is the main goal of life, chyes? Um. The title of this post is actually a line from a Death Cab song that I like. I do indeed have some goals. Here's what they are:

1. Be positive.

2. Create and breathe.

3. Get stronger.

4. Get to know my Savior better.

5. Serve.

Here's loosely how I'm going to define them:

Be positive. I mean, this one kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it? But I think keeping an eternal perspective, trusting life and my Heavenly Father, and standing in other peoples' shoes goes along with this. Also, smiling. I just like to smile. Smiling's my favorite.

Create and breathe. I have this really bad anxiety now that I'm in college, like what the crap am I even doing?? Nothing worthwhile. Or, that's how it feels. I just want to make something. I had a really good talk with one of my dearest friends about how I feel lost because I'm not making something. She directed me to Elder Uchtdorf's words from the talk, "Happiness, Your Heritage." Dude. It was incredible. You can watch the part that touched me the most by clicking HERE. I found a lot of comfort in the fact that the yearnings I feel, the lack of total satisfaction, is what I should feel until I find what it is I need to create, and what create needs to mean for me. I should yearn for it. That's what reassures me of my heritage from my Father in Heaven.

I feel a little spoiled at times because all throughout high school, I got to be a part of theatre. I know everyone thinks theatre kids are weird, and they are. Hi. But, everyday, I got to be part of something amazing. We were literally taking unorganized matter, as our Father does, and turning it into something of substance, and beauty. We got to share that with others so that they could feel inspired, the way we had. I never, ever felt closer to Heavenly Father than that moment right before I walked onstage, bowing my head and getting ready to give a performance, knowing that anything I could do was because of Him.

Well. I don't do theatre now, and so I kind of flounder. Like, oh, I made this rockin' PB & J today...? Oh, nope. Not gonna fill that void for me. I need to create. And I need to find what that means for me.

Here's where the breathe part comes in. I need to relax, and trust. And be okay with the fact that I do not have all the answers right now. I can be really hard on myself and my efforts. I need to breathe. Because only when I trust, can I create.

Get stronger. I don't want to get skinny. I'm already lanky as crap. I don't wanna be the BFG (Big Friendly Giant? Anyone?) loping around. I want to be stronger. My family is doing something kinda cool, and I am a part of that. Gettin' fit in 2012. You can read about it HERE.

Get to know my Savior better. I am going to read Jesus the Christ. I know, right? I hear it's a doozie, but. Worth it. I'm also going to work on morning prayer, and making sure my prayer is more meaningful. Also, temple, at LEAST once a month.

Serve. I'm going to do something for someone else every day. I did this all first semester of college, and it makes my day so much better. Without fail.

2012 is gonna be so flipping great. I'm going to make sure. That way, if the Mayans are right, (I tend to think they just got tired of carving so many years in the future. I mean, come on.) I can head out feeling good about life.

Happy New Year! I like you. Yes, you. Wherever you may be.

Christmas came early this year.

2011-12-19T18:04:00.007-08:00

All right, so listen. Here I am at two posts in a row. :/ Don't shame me. This isn't turning into one of THOSE blogs. I usually don't post about Cody on this blog; I usually save that writing for somewhere else, somewhere just for me. Maybe because, in the words of my friend James, "I don't have feelings, cause feelings are gay." I'm sure he meant in the bad at sports way, not in the politically offensive way. Um.

But I just wanted to tell you, that my Christmas package came today. And I was a very happy girl.
And.
No. I didn't wait to open it.

I got a couple really cool things, but the best part, was that for Christmas, Cody gave me a moment. He sent a little rock he held tightly in his hand, staring out into the ocean, facing towards home and looking at the next two years, and told me to listen to the song Concerning Hobbits, like he was looking at this.

He even sent me a picture. Which is kind of awesome, you know? Because even though the ocean is always changing, during this moment we shared, we got to look at the same one.

It made tears come out of my FACE. (Catch the Hot Rod reference, please and thank you.) But real, real good ones.

So. OKAY SO I HAVE FEELINGS THAT ARE TENDER SOMETIMES. Maybe. But, this is a Christmas gift so good, so in tune with me, that I had to put it on my just Shelby blog. CUE AWKWARD FEELINGS BECAUSE I JUST TOLD YOU ABOUT MY ACTUAL LIFE. Hahahaha.

Have a good one. :)

Sometimes I miss my temple buddy.

2011-12-15T11:23:00.001-08:00

Just throwin' that out there. Nbd.

Ooookay. "Look up!"

2011-12-11T22:57:00.000-08:00

I realize I keep just posting videos. Which is unoriginal and kind of a cop-out. But here's the thing. It's finals week. My very FIRST finals week. There are... some other less than ideal situations being thrown into that mix, also.

AND.

Something I kind of love, and by kind of, I mean more than anything else in the whole world, is sharing happiness with people.

So. With that being said, here's another little piece of happiness for you.

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

The world is just gorgeous, no? Gash, I love living here.

Mmm.

2011-12-09T21:15:00.000-08:00

Um. Word. Definitely needed to read this today.

I want you to know.

2011-12-05T16:28:00.000-08:00

The second finals are done, and I find a Christmas sweater of appropriate tackiness....

THIS IS ME.

I'm... not kidding. I'll let you know how it goes, deal?

Once.

2011-12-04T20:35:00.000-08:00

Hahahaha. I've only felt this way about one first kiss with one boy. Take a wild guess who THAT was, eh?!

K, really. That made me laugh a lot. And also feel I'd FLIP out if I was the parent. :/

WOOOOHOOOO!!!

I'm Baaack.

2011-11-28T19:09:00.001-08:00

I'm definitely back in college.

I had tomato soup, orange sticks, and french bread for dinner. (Don't mind the orange sticks. Just... getting into the holiday spirit. Nom, nom, nom.)

I also wrote two papers, read and took notes on a chapter, AND took an online quiz. Boo-yah. (Hi. I'm from the 90s. Obviously.)

And I got in one of those really weird moods, where I laugh at EVERYTHING. Only no one in my apartment was talking. No one. But everything was bizarrely funny to me. Like I misread a pin on Pinterest and laughed for like, half an hour to myself. I DON'T KNOW WHY, people. Maybe I WOULD follow a pinboard called The Perfect Panties instead of The Perfect Palette. I mean. That seems like a worthy topic, doesn't it?

Depicted above is a rug, in the shape of some underwears. Panties. UGH. Can I tell you something, while we're on the subject? The word panties makes my skin crawl while also filling me with some serious delight. I cannot put a name to the feeling. It's like, almost embarrassing but so perverse/hilarious that I just can't banish it completely? I can't decide if I love it or hate it, but something I DO like, for reals, are cute panties.... UNDERWEARS. Under..things? Hahaha. See. And right there I hated it. It feels ... it felt like a word describing fabric that hangs down with your nether regions. THERE I SAID IT.

My mom buys me underwear for every holiday - Easter, Halloween, Valentines Day, etc. That probably seems super weird, but it's something I love. Cute underwear is just nice. I also own a yellow pair that says "I Love Everything" and then on the bum, proceeds to list everything I love in a swirl of happiness and tiny words on one cheek. This cheek includes things like, hamburgers, ponies, sunny days, laughing, rain, etc. ALL THINGS I LOVE. I may have told you about them before, but they are awesome. Rest assured. And it saddened me when I realized at the end of the summer that they were about ready to retire.

I don't exactly know how you retire a pair of underwear. Do I frame them, like a jersey, and then invite everyone I know over to watch me raise them to the ceiling in some sort of unholy, tearful pantie-fest (see, I loved it there. It's the most illusive word), where we all remember the good times we've spent, being inspired by their sweet yellow goodness?

(Do you guys remember that episode of Spongebob, where he and Patrick are fighting, and when you see Patrick's underwear, they're yellow, and Spongebob's are pink. And it's tender. Until after they hug and Patrick says, "You know. These were white when I bought 'em." But mine were always yellow. Sort of. No. PROMISE. They were.)

Guys. They are my lucky underwears. My most mentionable unmentionables. Me. In a pair of pure joy. I love them.

So. I guess just.. think about that the rest of the night? Thanks?

Also. You know that lingerie shop on Kaysville main? The one that's got Pepperbelly's panties all in a bunch? (still loving it.) Yeah, well. Cody knows my hatred(/love? I JUST DON'T EVER KNOW.) for the word panties, and he used to always combine that with my fascination of turning T-sounds into d's, and he'd say, "PREDDY PANDIES" in the most awkward voice you ever heard. Every time we passed the store.

... We passed it like. Every day.

It never got old.

But it was creepy. To the max. And should've made me feel terribly awkward. So. Naturally, I loved it.

P.S.

Harry Podder, coddon, kiddens, middens, buddons, loddery. Have a great night.

But if you judge.

2011-11-25T21:03:00.000-08:00

"Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."
-Albert Einstein-

I'm Tough.

2011-11-22T20:20:00.000-08:00

“I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.”

John Steinbeck said that. I LOVE him. And pretty much everything he ever wrote.

Also. I'm making fun of fashion blogger poses and being JOYFUL in the above photo.

Why do I feel so joyful, you ask? Because my entire outfit was $12.95 at Saver's. Savers for the WIN.

Aaaand, something else that is pretty neat about life, is this song:

I especially recommend dancing to its sweet sound in stocking feet on a kitchen floor, preferably while drying dishes and singin' into wooden spoons.

THANKS. Bye.

Breaking Dawn/Making Spawn.

2011-11-18T14:00:00.000-08:00

As you'll recall, I've always hated this book. Even back in my adolescent, fool days when I was cool with the other books. Down with them. Partyin' with them. I HATED THIS BOOK. I have not yet seen the movie. I don't know if I ever will. That will depend highly on the need for entertainment my sisters and I have this coming week. We are like the Three Musketeers, conquering bad teen movies/plot lines/novels everywhere.

If I ever do go see it... I'll let you know. But honestly, I feel satisfied after having read this:

In Which We Get a Guy to Review Breaking Dawn

^^THIS, ladies and gentleman, is why the majority of my friends are male.

Also. THAT? That is why while my cute roommate was at the theater, watching all three previous movies before the midnight showing of THAT terror... I was home nommin' on french bread and snoozin'.

It is creepy. It will never NOT be creepy.

K, bye.

Today.

2011-11-16T22:24:00.000-08:00

Today, I'm grateful for:

Moms.

Awkward couples.

Awkward moments.

Laughter.

Cold water.

Greek yogurt.

My brrrrain.

And.

THE BOOK OF MORMON.

It is the best thing in my life... and I love when I have an hour instead of ten minutes to get to read it. :) Mmmm.

What are YOU grateful for today? I'd like to hear it. If you read this... I mean. Tell me. Everybody could go for some shared happiness, eh? So let it out there. No matter how weird, random, or small. It's the month of THANKS.

Lucky.

2011-11-10T23:47:00.000-08:00

"The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow.

Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough.

Give your best anyway.

For you see, in the end, it is between you and God.

It was never between you and them anyway."

-Mother Teresa-

It just became 11/11/11. Not only the luckiest day of the year, but also, like the luckiest day, EVER. You better be doing something special.

I got a real important wish to make tonight.

I hope that you do, too.

AND. I get to spend the weekend with my mom. It doesn't get much better than that, people. See how luuucky I am already?

Word.

STILL grateful. Just slackin'.

2011-11-10T21:07:00.000-08:00

Hi. I'm still grateful for things erryday. Got some good ones from the past couple days in my drafts. But. This has been one of the worst homework weeks of my life, so, that kind of takes priority for a second.

Anyway. Today was a pretty great day. But I'm really glad I found this song. It's beautiful. I love modern technology and the ways it can be used to share good.

You Can Just Call Me Cruella.

2011-11-06T20:59:00.000-08:00

Because 201 is my NUMBER, people! This is my 201 post I've ever written on this blog. And I just want to say that today, I'm intensely grateful for the ability we have as humans to write. To be able to express oneself, to make art out of words, to create pictures from ink and page, to connect to something personal, as the writer or reader - it's gorgeous to me.

I'm so happy that I have words. That we all do. And the intelligence with which to use them. I'm so grateful to have parents who encourage me in my talents and abilities, and in my struggles as well. My mom always loved for me to write. I'm so grateful for this blog. Whether I'm posting a song or a quote or a story that may or may not be better left untold, I always just feel better for having been vulnerable and real and having gotten it out there. Whether anyone reads it or not, I took a minute to document that little passing piece of me, in all its fleeting glory.

So. Today, I am grateful for the blogging world. For my little blog. And for words. And the miracle of language. It's a happy thing. So's November!

This is an unedited response I wrote for Psych last week, and even though it's raw, it's real, and I loved being assigned to write something so essentially honest:

The Clothesline Project

Twice this week, I had the opportunity of attending The Clothesline Project in the Grand Ballroom at UVU. The first time I attended, I was killing spare time between classes with some friends who were assigned to go for their criminal justice course. The second time I attended was with our Psych 1100 class. The Clothesline Project is a display that fills the entire room, with clothesline after clothesline of multi-colored shirts hanging, running up and down the length of the space. Each color represents a specific type of abuse, and each shirt displays the story of the victim who experienced the abuse, as written by the victims themselves.

Walking into the room, it was the stillness that struck me first. I took a deep breath in when I entered, as if gathering courage to face the harshness I knew was waiting, and honestly, can't remember letting it out in the entire time I wandered the exhibit. Every ten to twelve seconds, a gong rang out, sounding faraway, to represent the frequency of a woman being battered in the United States, based on 1993 statistics. Every three or four minutes, a whistle was blown, again sounding distant, to represent the occurrence of rape in the United States based on those some statistics. In the hushed room, surrounded as I was by the screaming silence, these interruptions gave me chills every single time.

As I walked the rows, alternately lifting my gaze and averting my eyes, I was struck by the variety displayed in the shirts created by the victims - the distinct individual displayed in the commonality of abuse and circumstance. I began to see that abuse is an intensely personal experience, unique to the individual experiencing it and their specific story. Some wrote messages of hate or anger, directed to their abuser, while some wrote messages of hope and forgiveness, of trial and testimony, and even more powerful to me, some simply wrote what happened - without bias or upset, they simply told their story, silent no more.

Something that impacted me so deeply was the fact that every shirt displayed in the Grand Ballroom, packed as they were, was from a victim living in Utah County. The sheer number of shirts, coupled with the words they held, made the enormous room feel intensely small. Maybe it's foolish to admit, but even though I am particularly paranoid about rape and other types of abuse, I simply had no concept of how common violence against women really, really is.

It was also interesting to me how different the experience was the first time, walking through with a group of all men and seeing their horror and reactions, as opposed to walking through with women the second time. At one point, one of the men I was with had to sit down, because he simply couldn't read anymore. I noticed that the women I was with faced it squarely. I'm not trying to make a commentary on the strength of the sexes, not on purpose, but then again, maybe I am. There was a bravery in seeing women face these stories; a growing sense of sisterhood and awareness was born in us, mostly strangers, with every step we took within the exhibit.

I walked away positively changed, which is, in my opinion, the purpose of art. I walked away aware, and intensely grateful for the life I've led, and so, so impressed with The Clothesline Project. It made me wish I could create art so compelling - an outlet, a step of healing for so many - something so visually powerful when you stepped back from it and emotionally inclusive when you took the plunge and walked around in it. I thought the transformation of something so raw, and so intensely ugly into something that could spread awareness and give voice to the silent, was just entirely gorgeous, and I'm beyond thankful for the feelings their art gave to me.

I BELIEVE THE HUMP IS MINE.

2011-11-05T20:26:00.000-07:00

I think I'd like to start a project. Just a little somethin' somethin' to celebrate November. I feel like it's a highly underrated month - kind of the less-than-great shortening between the metaphorical delicious Oreo cookies of October and November. October's got Halloween, and treeeeats, cute children, fun parties, and an excuse to get out there and DANCE and be let's face it, just a little bit creepy. And I mean, December is CHRISTMAS. NEED I SAY MORE?

Sometimes, November gets lost in the nation-wide binge and the turkey leftovers. When I was younger, it was a month of AWESOME hand-tracing turkeys and pilgrim art projects. Now that I'm older... I don't get to do those as often. I listened to my roommates all day today talk about how November is the hump to Christmas, etc., and I felt a little bad for November. Poor hump.

So. I'd like to share MY thoughts on November. Living away from home, and being in college, I feel intensely grateful for the family togetherness of Thanksgiving. I'm looking forward to hugging my sisters more than even making my famous yogurt pie. It's something I reeeeally value and I think about often. I'm so beyond grateful for the hump. November is just a happy month - or at least it should be. And you know what? Maybe I don't make hand-tracing turkey or pilgrim art projects nowadays. But do you know what else? Maybe I SHOULD. Actually, I promise I will. You might even get to see them with your own eyes. How about THAT, world?

November is such a happy month, and I making a promise to myself that I'm not going to lose myself completely in tests, and stress, and how much I HATE cold weather. I'm going to, instead, write a happy thought here, everyday. Something that makes me grateful to be alive, and thankful it is November - the month of gratitude. I'mma be HAPPY.

I wanna value the hump. I LOVE THE HUMP!

So! Today I am grateful for the fact that whoever lives above me, has seriously fantastic taste in music. The faint beauty playing above me makes homework soooo much more bearable.

So. Hey you up there. I owe you one. Or twenty. On a CD. Which you probably already have. I LIKE YOU!

Mmm. Add to the grateful list? Songs that make you feel.

Knock, knock.

2011-11-02T16:39:00.001-07:00

Flowers. Sometimes they get delivered to you.

And they smell delicious.

And they turn a cold, cold day with lots of sudden homework into just a really nice one.

That's all.

Quotes I Have Loved Lately.

2011-11-01T10:57:00.000-07:00

Sitting in a quiet study nook in my school's library last week:

".... Are you the man from Snowy River?"

(I look up to see a large man leaning precariously over another large man's work station. My first thought: Oh. They met online and now they're meeting in real life.)

Not so.

"What?"

"ARE YOU? You've got the hat and the coat, ARE YOU?"

"Nope... just cold."

"Snowy River is cold."

(lingers for a moment too long and walks off, disappointed.)

While Trick or Treating with my cousins last night, a foul odor filled the air:

Paige: "Bailey, did you fart?"

Bailey: "No."

Me: "I didn't either. I'll announce it when it's me. Must just be something in the air."

Paige: "It must have been a ghost."

Me: "I wonder if they can fart? We'll have to ask your mama when we're home." (My Aunt Sheral is something of a ghost expert, you see.)

(A little later)

Me: "OOoooookay, there must be something in the air tonight, because it smells, awful. And I didn't fart and Bailey didn't fart, and neither did you, huh?" (to Paige)

Bailey: "Actually. That was me that time."

(At home)

Bailey: "Hey, mom, do ghosts fart?"

Sheral: "Hm. Sometimes they have a scent!"

Uncle Joel: "Man, I tell you what. If I was a ghost, I'd do that all the time. Go into a chapel during sacrament and just let out a little SBD, silent-but-deadly, and just watch it work. Everyone's all lookin' around, wondering who the culprit was..."

Hahaha! As you can imagine, I LOVED my Halloween yesterday. I drove straight to UVU from the freeway since I was coming back from being home on the weekend. In the five minutes before I reached my class, I spotted Captain Jack Sparrow, Aragorn, Little Red, a ninja, a female Indiana Jones, and more. That is something I straight up LOVE. When I got home, I had the best grilled cheese and tomato soup I've made in a loooong time. It was good times.

And then I got all gussied up for the evening. Became a butterfly, if you will!

There are no pictures of my lower half, but I wore my sister's STRETCHY PANTS. Running tights are SO warm. And Brittany is so sweet. I'm gonna have to get me a pair in the near future.

My Aunt Sheral was RIDICULOUSLY nice and let me come go trick-or-treating with her cute kids. There is honestly no other way I would've rather spent my Halloween. Also, I can count it as doing my Child Development homework. So that was just an added bonus. It took me forrrrever to get to Spanish Fork, though, because children were everywhere. And no one wants to hit a little princess or pirate. It's just in bad taste. So, the fifteen minute drive became a forty-five minute one, since Springville apparently gathers every child from the surrounding cities and sets them free on main street on Halloween.

In all reality, I think a main street trick-or-treat is the cutest thing ever. And I enjoyed creeping... but I was worried I would make the Wilsons late starting out. Luckily, they weren't even starting yet. (:

Prrrretty much, they are the cutest, funniest, most polite kids in the whole world. Seriously. They are smart and hilarious, and so, so, so nice. If my kids turn out even HALF as well, I'll know I've done okay. It was the funnest night! And they all had stinking great costumes! Like, seriously. Would you like to see?

Sawyer was an Indian - and may I just add that he FULLY did his homework. Researched the heck out of his Halloween costume! Bailey was my homegirl Luna Lovegood, Paigey was a butterfly, Sheral looked AWESOME as a Dia de los Muertos figure! She scared the crap out of some of her nursery kids answering the door. Also. Joel was a cat. Clearly.

It was the funnest night ever! I laughed so much and had so much fun. Also, Paige held my hand every single time she thought it might be even a little cold. She even held it close to her little fuzzy butterfly chest and smiled up at me. That made me feel pretty warm, too. And we got some KILLER hot chocolate at someone's house. Mm, good stuff.

Pretty much, Trick or Treating just always warms the soul on a chilly night.

Also. Life-size displays made my cousins and I NERVOUS. I wish this wasn't just a phone picture. I didn't have my camera, darnit!

I LOVE HALLOWEEN! I'm a little sad it's over. :/

Which Is Why I Am Telling You About It.

2011-10-31T00:31:00.000-07:00

So. Cody and I said goodbye today. Again. Except for, not goodbye, cause that doesn't seem to work out so well with us. That just leads to broken feet after a month in the MTC, it seems. So more like, see you in a little less than two years.

I know the last six weeks have been extremely challenging for him - mentally, physically (DUH, his foot was flipping broken), spiritually, emotionally, etc - but he handled it all so well. I did most of my blogging this evening elsewhere, but, what I will say is that I have never appreciated or admired someone so much in all my 18 years of life. I am so proud of him, and so awed by everything that he is. He's the most amazing friend anyone could ask for, and the best little missionary.

Hawaii better know what they're getting.

AND. They better not break anymore of his feet. FETCH.

Anyway. I really like this poem. It's by Frank O'Hara:

Having a Coke with You

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them

I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse

it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it

China?

2011-10-27T12:06:00.001-07:00

So... I don't know if I'll post this or not. Maybe it will remain forever in my drafts, enshrouded with cobwebs and shaky memories.

Translation: I'm a wimp.

Let me tell you the tale of yesterday.

I woke up, and I was mostly in a good mood, but something set me off - thinking about the future and how lost I feel (I'm pretty skillful in that whole panic-about-the-future-thing. College degree, worthy.) and such. I started crying and crying, and I had no tangible reason for that, but hey! Who needs one? I was also a little jealous of a friend's blog on personal revelation, because even though she's in this scary time of life too, she knows what she's doing next. Well. I don't. And that is totally my fault. I decided I needed to kick it into spiritual gear, so I watched about fifty Mormon messages on my computer while I got ready for school.

This included videos on answers to come, God's plan for us as individuals, and also, the Come What May And Love it clip. I LOVE Elder Wirthlin. I decided to read my Patriarchal blessing. The parts about my education seemed to really stick out, and I thought, "Okay... That's great, but help me out here? If you wanted to give me a little sign today, that'd be great, but if not, that's cool too. I'd just like to feel a little less directionless."

Then I watched another Mormon message. Honestly, I don't remember which one it was, or what it was about. I was loading up my backpack, and I just remember being struck by the part when it talked about serving and teaching God's children. Now, I'm pretty sure the video was referencing everyone, adults as well, but the way it hit me was actual children. Which, you know, my major is Early Childhood Ed. So I'm thinking, "All right... So I should just keep on... keepin' on, or..?"

Anyway, I felt significantly better, so I went ahead and went to school. I had a great day. Like, I mean, a really great day. My lecture in Psych was interesting, I understood all of it and didn't feel bored once, I laughed a ton, scored well on my research paper, rocked my presentation. Life was good.

The drive back to my apartment was pleasant, and I wasn't even annoyed by the Provo traffic. I was smiling the entire time. And I thought, "Well, you know. Maybe I don't have direction per say, but today was a day I definitely wouldn't mind repeating." I was breathing, people. I was relaxed. I was happy!

Then, after parking in the absurdly small parking space outside my complex, I pulled my phone out of my bag and checked the time. And I had a voice mail from a number I didn't know. So I listened to it.

It was from the International Language Program, and apparently someone had recommended me and said I'd be really great at it, so they wanted me to call back if I wanted more information. The International Language Program, or ILP, is a group that goes to several countries throughout the world and teaches English to children. You can go to places all over the world - Ukraine, Russia, China, Mexico, and Thailand. It's cheaper than a semester of school, and your food, airfare, and housing is included in that cost.

Honestly, I'd never really thought about it. I had kind of been planning on staying in the country until after I at least had my Associates Degree. I really want to go to Ecuador and love some babies in orphanages at that time, and that was kind of the plan.

But when I listened to that voice mail, I had the most incredible feeling. And the more I thought about it, the more ungrateful I felt writing that off as a coincidence. The more I thought about it in relation to my Patriarchal blessing, the more plausible it seemed. You have to know me well enough to know that I went home and stalked ILP's website to the utmost of my abilities. And I liked everything I saw.

Also, I found out a girl I know and very much admire is going with that very program in January.... Sooo.

I don't even know. I'm not sure what the point of this post was. To get awkwardly overly-personal? Eh, I accomplish that with a lot of other posts. I don't know if it's what I'm supposed to do next, but I DO know that I'm attending the information meeting. And that it freaks me out. In the best possible way.

If you wandered through my words, looking for anything to take from this, let it be this:

Going to China to teach English is something I've never thought about before. Due to that string of events, and others that continue, it's something I can't stop thinking about.

I'm going to the temple tonight to pray about things, and I'm still registering for classes next week. But I'm also going to the information meeting for ILP.

Hmmm. Exhale.

Also? Chinese kids are CUTE.

Thoughts I'm Having.

2011-10-26T16:01:00.000-07:00

There is a wind blowing around campus today that makes Orem feel like a forgotten tundra. Not in a good way. :/ I feel also, like it's a perverted wind. I couldn't keep my jacket closed.

Writing letters is one of my favorite things to do. I ALWAYS feel better after. And pretty much every friend of mine is heading on a mission or is already there. While not in the exact classical sense of the world, this is still panning out to be ideal.

I love when someone makes me laugh so much that my stomach has no time to recoop in between bouts of laughter. I also love it when this happens to me for twenty minutes on campus and makes everyone who passes not quite able to fight the urge to smile to themselves at my joy. That's nice.

My Child Development class. It's my happy place. There's fifty minutes of class left, and I've eaten two packets of M & Ms, two fruit Roll-ups, and grapes and cheese, gotten baby-hungry approximately three times (this always goes away once I think about how babies come out), and smiled so much my cheeks hurt waaay too much. We're also taking a "break" right now. You know, because it's so tiring.

Also, I got a 98 on my first research paper! You know, the ten page one. :/

A man came and got humiliated to help with his wife's presentation in class today. Me, and my two friends who sit on either side of me - one who's been married four years, and one who has been married two years and just had her first baby - all looked at each other and said in unison, "He better be getting some tonight." It's FINE, mom. They were married. But... seriously. Poor guy.

Also. I have figured out a new route home from campus that a) allows me to avoid the University Parkway exit intersection and consequently all flashbacks of left-turn car accidents (thank you, senior pictures. What a terrifying experience.) and instead take a turn through some hidden nugget of the city wherein the trees are high, the fences are wooden, and there are FIELDS. FIELDS. Not Mrs. Fields in a mall. Green fields, with horses frolicking. It's so happy!

And, tonight I get to play with my friend Sydney. I happen to enjoy her more than most things. Today is a great day! (:

Words I Love.

2011-10-25T19:12:00.000-07:00

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.

"When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen at all once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or have to be easily kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby."

"But those things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

The Velveteen Rabbit, Margery Williams

It's a book everyone should read. Seriously. They don't make children's books like they used to.

It's Not Impossible, I Used to Bulls-eye Womp Rats in My T-16 Back Home, And They're Not Much Bigger Than Two Meters.

2011-10-14T13:58:00.000-07:00

Did you know it is humanly possibly to punch your own self in the face? Unintentionally?

Well. It actually is. Here, let me tell you about it.

Sometimes, you are in the middle of a serious, sophisticated conversation at the end of class. And you feel like, "Hey, I'm a REAL boy!" like Pinocchio. Like maybe I'm not a wimpy college freshman. Maybe, I'm just a MAN. A man who can discuss amendments and unfair grading curves with middle-aged, bearded sophisticates in my class.

Maybe.

That could be plausible, if you didn't, mid-conversation try to pull at the top of your backpack to shimmy your laptop down into it and somehow, lose grip of your backpack with such force that your hand rebounds into your own nose. Hard.

It's physically possible, people.

But do you know what isn't? Taking the high road, like the classmate you were talking to, who expresses sincere concern and condolences for you and the incident they just saw. NOPE. That is physically impossible.

The only thing possible is to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and thus confirm to yourself, now walking alone as you are, that you are indeed, a freshman.

Welp! Seeya never.

P.S. I PUNCHED MYSELF IN THE FACE.

Apple Burr.

2011-10-12T14:42:00.001-07:00

One time, last night, I was writing a research paper that would grow to be 10 pages when complete. (I don't want to talk about it.) It was a beast, and liked to nibble my knuckles with fatigue as I tried to write it. It also had a curious side effect of making me bored out of my mind.

So naturally, since the walls of my apartment are thin, I was half-listening to my roommates shouting/squealing over the discovery of beer and a mysterious note on our porch. I was thinking to myself, man, that Halloween decor is really inviting. We've never gotten this much porch-attention. Then they say something about it being apple beer. I'm not listening closely enough to really understand, but I'm hungry. So, there's that.

Then Olivia comes in and shows it to me, and my heart does a little flutter. And she shows me the cryptic note, which obviously doesn't go with the beer. All the months of watching Castle with my mom come out in me and I think, it was mere coincidence these two items were on our porch together. They don't match up! There's no connection! The STEP-BROTHER DID IT. Wait? No. What?

I'm really thinking to myself, Cody owes me some Apple Beer. But he has a broken foot and he's a man of quiet, and also 70 miles away from me, so that'd be a little out of character/the realm of possibility. But still I hope. So later, when I get a message asking me if I found anything on my porch, I can't help but do a little victorious fist pump. It wasn't from my roommates home teachers. It was a little caloric lovin' from my best friend!

Is there anything more beautiful? I ask you.

It was quite the hump-day (I've just always wanted to use that expression, so thanks.) pick-me-up. And it's SO sincerely comforting and happy to know someone is thinking of you. Nice things are.... really nice.

Also. When I tried to interrogate him as to HOW he could have gotten it here, he insisted it was magic. Maybe even that he apparated.

Um. I have a crush on him. SHUT UP ABOUT IT. Ugh.

Halloween Decor.

2011-10-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

I got seven and a half hours of sleep last night, which is plenty, and for some reason, I was dead on campus today. I was lifeless. And. I was not too stoked to drive home and sit in my apartment and attempt to write this NOVEL of a research paper for Child Development in the bad vibes that are floating around up in there.

I tell you, I don't know what happens when I go home for the weekend, but more often than not, I come back to my apartment to find it more resembling a war zone than a happy home. Eeuhmm. The thing is, I thought I was prepared for living with girls because I grew up with two sisters my whole life. But... it kind of turns out, all girls aren't like Ballif girls. Amen.

So, I headed to Walmart to buy some makeup, since I left mine at home this weekend and have been rockin' the homeless look all week. And I was ENTRANCED, mind you, by the Halloween section of the store. It was right by the front and everything looked so flashy and fun and... Halloweenie. (hahahaha!) I just wanted everything, OKAY. And I just thought about our depressing little apartment, and then I pictured it, filled with Halloween magic, and I WANTED it.

So I filled my paws with everything cute in sight. Then I took a deep breath. And put some of it back. But. Still had some pretty sweet stuff. Now. Being the college student I am, and being as terrified of spending money as I have suddenly become (seriously, it's weird. I've bought myself lunch ONCE in two months of school because I don't want to fork over the two dollars. Just call me Ebeneezer.) I called my mom, and basically demanded, "I KNOW IT'S COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS, BUT IS IT TOO RIDICULOUS TO BE REASONABLY RIDICULOUS FOR THIS RIGHT NOW, I JUST WANT TO SPREAD SOME CHEER?" She approved of my purchases and laughed at my tight wallet, and so I went on my way.

And I got home, and the vibes were worse than the floaters in our sink (NOT mine) so I decided to fix it. I scrubbed the crap out of our sick bathroom (pun perhaps intended?) and then I informed my apartment peoples that I was going to be hanging up decorations. Sooo, I did. And yes, I used a good two or three hours of my paper time cleaning and then fifteen more minutes of decorating my house.

And guess what? I felt great after.

My real camera is in Kaysville, and I'm not about to go to Walmart for that, so, enjoy my phone pictures:

Cutie window-cling bats on our mirror.

Haunted house, cat on the moon, hand reaching out of the grave, and a subtle stay-away sign. As in... sometimes I'd like to have a turn in ze basroom. (:

This window turned out adorable. Also, there's a green sign that says "Happy Halloween!" below the house, but the bushes behind it obscure it in this depiction. Just know it makes me happy!

Spooky CATZZZ.

The door-hanging. As I was hanging it up, one of my room-mates said, '"Hey, there's a pumpkin for each of us!" It hadn't occurred to me, per say, but, tend to think I'm the tubby one second from the bottom who just looks like a CREEP.

I'm... pretty sure it's illegal to cover up our apartment number. So, I got a Sharpie and personalized the pumpkins' message. It was nice.

I'm gonna be one of those annoying people who goes ALL out for every holiday when they have a house. I can just feel it. It made my whole day one billion times better.

Cheap, tacky decorations can be great things, you GUYS.

These Pictures.

2011-10-10T21:27:00.000-07:00

And this song:

Is Your Name Ruby?

2011-10-09T11:25:00.000-07:00

Cause you're a GEM.

I was going through my inbox, and happened upon an email I'd never opened from my sister Tori.

Needless to say, I'm really glad that I did.

That video.... pretty much sums it up.

Yogurt.....land?

2011-10-04T09:56:00.000-07:00

Do you see this picture? I look relatively happy, right? Calm? At peace? Not like I was just accosted?

Well. I did do a little acting in high school.

Here's a story. Last night, it was a rainy evening. All the lights in our apartment were turned out, my roommate Kelsey and I were swamped with homeworks in our room, and the only sounds permeating through the place were blood curdling screams of my roommates and also from the girl in the horror movie they were watching. It was also pouuurrrring rain outside. So, as you can imagine, when a trip to Yogurtland was proposed, we all girded up our fat pants and got on that train of thought. (I realize that pajamas is a nicer word, but. We're cute.)

First of all, Kelsey rapped, and it was one of the best things I've seen. Second of all, WHY did everyone in Provo get ready like it was school picture day when.. in reality, it was nine forty-five at Yogurtland? People, people, pleeeease. By the looks we were getting, you'd think I was lunging forth and mooning people with every step. And can I be honest? When I'm given looks like that, I only want to rise to the occasion. My pants stayed on, mom. Anyway, we finally shuffled our way into the line, and all the fro-yo people - packed in there like SARDINES - abandon staring at us for the more appealing option of looking over us and around us like we don't exist. And frankly like they might have smelled a little bit of dookie.

Anyway. We were in line, when some man came surging from a nook I had not even noticed. And he's walking straight at me. And I move to get out of the way? And we're in that awkward dance, you know? But the thing is, he's not trying to get past me. He's trying to stay in front of me. So I finally stop and he just stares intently at my chest. Nope, this is real. I don't mean to be vulgar, but let's be honest here. I could be mistaken for your junior high boys' basketball team CAPTAIN with the body I have. If he wanted to stare, there are other areas and other women rrrreadily available, know what I'm sayin'?

I'm stunned. I don't know what to do. My roommates have all frozen as well. I feel like we're in Harry Potter, and we're mid-apparate. Finally, he speaks.

Him: "Oh, you went to Mountain Land Physical Therapy?!!!!" (He is so thrilled about this.)

Me: (trying to muster up anything that feels like a social skill or even hobby) "Um. No, but people in my family!"

Him: "Awwwwwwwhhughhhuhhhfhhahaaahhhuhhh!!" (you'd be surprised how long it lasted and how many letters he got in there. It was INCRED!) "....My dad works there."

Me: (an unhelpful smile of astonishment, not that he saw it, buried as he was in my chest)

Him: (nods excitedly to self) "Wellllll. All right!" (Strides away with a step so big you could've seen it on a Sneetch illustration, and pats my back like A) we went to war together or B) like I'm his ungainly aunt from out of town or C) he could be telling me man up and.. grow a pair? Then.... he gives it some sort of finger tip rub as he leaves. And then he's GONE.)

Um, okay. We were stunned. Kelsey told me I had bad social skills, but my other roommate defended me. How do you interact when your head is clearly a foot higher than where someone is speaking to you? How do interact when you're flat chested and you know and someone is giving off the vibe like they are gonna keep watch until those things APPEAR? A watched pot never boils, sir. A watched pot, never, boils.

I posted this picture also to display the fact that I'm the man in our friendship. Not everyone can have the self-esteem boost that comes with having a roommate THREE TIMES YOUR SIZE, Kelsey. She needs about twenty more of those yogurts. But. She feels dainty and like a lady erryday. That's just a little gift that comes in the Shelby package.

That Girl On The Road.

2011-10-02T17:00:00.000-07:00

So, this weekend I got to go to Hatch for General Conference with my parents.

Sigh. It was just what I needed. Like really. I won't have this post be very long, because I scheduled my time very efficiently this evening (I know, weird) and my window for the World Wide Interweb and all its fun is very small. So.

I just feel like me again, and not just halfway, but all the way. Like, restored, you know? I got to go to my favorite place in the whole world, see some of my favorite people and laugh, be quiet with a few more, see some Shakespeare, creep on some babies, and be outside and not in a city.

Mmmm. Also, I bought some new moccasins. Long over-due. And this morning I took a walk, in my glasses and french braid, without a lick of makeup. I could've been a snapshot of myself from fourth grade, honestly. And the moccasins make me feel like little ninth grade Shelby, or even sophomore year - not doing my hair, wearing my jeans and my t-shirts and my moccasins, always. It's very happy, people. :)

It reminded me of that part on P.S. I Love You. Have you seen it? If not, you probably should. There's a bare bum and a lot of.. Irish language. But. It's the only movie I've cried all the way through. It's a blessing on bad days where you just want to get it out there. (And by it, I mean all the snot and saltwater your body could possibly produce. Every. Last. Bit. Of. IT.) Anyway, he writes her letters after he's died of cancer, and one of the letters eventually leads her back to the place they first met, and reminisces on their first interaction. They're both young and she's exuberant and unique and so extremely... herself. :)

At the end of that particular letter, he tells her,

"See, I don't worry about you remembering me. It's that girl on the road you keep forgetting. 'My business is to create. It doesn't even matter what you do.' You told me that, remember. So go home. Go find it. Find that thing that makes you like nobody else."

I feel like I finally remembered that girl on the road, you know? And I feel so much less stressed - about immediate deadlines, about the far future - everything. It makes me so grateful to live in the beautiful world that we do, and to be able to listen to conference and all the words Heavenly Father would have me hear. I just love my parents, and Hatch, and also, you.

This song can be nice to listen to, you know? So. Listen to it. I just like shouting it by myself. That's fine, right?!

Halso. Did conference make anyone else feel like they wanted to deactivate their Facebook for a while?

I'm An Exceptional Indian.

2011-09-28T21:55:00.000-07:00

Hi. (: You... really don't have to read this. You can scootch on by. I just need to write it.

So. I've been avoiding blogging about this for a while, but the glow of freshman year is starting to fade for me just a tiny bit. I didn't expect the transition to be this hard, and it's not hard in the ways I expected - the grocery shopping, laundry-doing, keeping-clean, part, I'm actually pretty good at. I've even been called a chef and a domestic goddess (both were said in creep tones, so I mean, take them with a grain of salt) but the point is, my mama done taught me well.

But then, there's this thing. And it's probably incredibly vain, but I feel like I don't exist in college. Like in high school, I was Shelby, and I was funny and happy and did weird, weird crap, and I was known. Do you know what I mean? Like I had the opportunity to be an example - people were excited if I was in their seminary class or their English class, I could make a comment and the people around me actually cared what I had to say. I know this sounds really vain. But I feel like sand on the beach in college some days. I'm just another person, among tons, and tons of people.

To be honest, it's kind of got me down in the self-esteem department. Just a wee bit. Cause mostly, I really like myself as a person. (Hahaha. K. You know that part on Enchanted, where the creepy guy is like, "Highness, do you ... like yourself?" And he's all, "What's not to like?!" Hahaha. I'm a prince.) Just as far as anything goes, I feel a little average. I don't really feel talented or unique, and I feel like a weirdly quiet, funked-out version of myself lately. And I don't really love that.

It's actually been a lot better this past week, and a big part of that is because I've been able to have a little more contact with Cody. He's home from his mission for six weeks because he broke his foot in the MTC. I know this time is really, really hard for him, but I also know that the Lord knows him and has reasons that He needs Cody to be home right now. I know that there are lots of people Cody can help and influence, and who need him. And maybe it's selfish, but I'm really grateful he's been spending some of his time helping me.

I have been kind of flip-floppy lately in how I feel throughout the day, and I realize it can be annoying. Cody is one of the few people on the earth, besides my family, that I am really and truly whatever I am with. Not like I'm some fake piece of nast to people, but just how much I wanna let you in if what I'm feeling isn't 100 percent positive tends to vary. I don't like to make a big deal about myself. I realize that sentence seems contradictory halfway through a blog all about myself and my feeeeeelings. I'm sorry to be selfish, but I need to write it out. It helps me so much.

Anyway, Cody basically coaxes my emotions out of me and gets me to talk about all this crap - all this uncertainty and insecurity I feel now that is pretty unfamiliar. And rather than get annoyed or run for cover from how ridiculous I'm being, like sometimes I myself would like to, Cody just loves me more and wants to help me. He is the best friend anyone could ask for, and his patience with me is an amazing testimony to me that Heavenly Father loves me and is aware of me. Rather than get annoyed, or say I'm sorry and change the subject like most people would, he suggested we make some goals to address each of the frustrations I expressed, and helped me with suggestions he knows help me personally because he knows me so well. A) He is the best friend anyone could ask for.

B) He's such a little missionary these days. Committing me to goals and whatnot. The people of Hawaii are going to love him so much. But not TOO much. Cause. He's a missionary. :/ Keep it clean, people.

So here's what we came up with:

1) Exercise everyday.

This has been a little hard lately with homework starting to come in, but I had it down the first few weeks, and to be honest - I don't really care about my body's appearance beyond the fact that I wanna fit into my pants, cause I can't afford new ones - but it really helped me mentally and emotionally.

2)Some sort of service.

I am never, ever happier than when I have the opportunity to look outside myself and help someone else. Chillin' in the me mindset, throwin' some AWESOME pity parties isn't where it's at, people.

3)Go to the temple once a week.

It's a little harder here in Provo, but it's doable and something that I love and need in my life.

4) Blog.

I have been kind of inhibited lately because my cute mom keeps telling me I sound like such a mean person on my blog. I hope you know that's not the case. I like to think I'm a relatively nice person. I find general delight in the human race, and when I blog about awkward happenstances or strange ... strangers (do you like how that sentence worked out? I do.) it is only because the tales brought a smile to my face and made me laugh. And I like to spread the love. I'm really sorry if it ever comes across badly. I've felt a little inhibited since; haha, I've written like six posts and deleted them because I'm self conscious. And self-conscious just isn't my style, you know? So we gotta fix that, reeeeal fast. (:

But blogging, man. There is something in it that is just good for me.

I don't mean to be melodramatic, and if you stuck through this post, congrats. Freshmen year is just harder than I thought it would be, in ways I didn't really expect. I go days without having a real conversation, and even weeks without being touched. That sounds like the perfect invite for all creeps in the proximity. WELL IT WON'T WORK, NOW WILL IT, CAUSE I CHANGE CITIES AND APARTMENTS ON THE DAILY. Um. Anyway. You'd be surprised what someone even touching your arm can do for your self-esteem. I feel like an everlovin' leper - and given, that probably has to do with the fact that I am now comfortable enough here to start skipping showers (it feels good to be back. Hygiene? More like, bye-giene. As in, I DON'T NEED YOU IN MY LIFE, GROOMING.), but I just want to feel like I exist. I guess that's what everyone wants.

Anyway. In keeping with my conversation with Cody, I want to blog about things that I'm grateful for, that make me really happy here in college:

I am really happy that my Aunt Sheral and her family, especially my cousin Paige live so close. Seeing Paige makes my whole week better. She is such an amazing, happy little girl, and she is funny. She's one of my best friends in college. She is always excited to see me. She is patient with me; she listens to me, and she wants to play. She is wonderfully accepting, kind, and she is so much fun. Also, she played Indians with me on Sunday for like, three hours. It just happens to be my most favorite thing to play. Always has been.

We both had rainbow horses, hatched from golden eggs because we were exceptional Indians. NBD. Anyway. I really know that Paige loves me. One, because she tells me. But also, because she is SO excited to see me, and sad when I leave. She hugs me at least three times before I leave, and Sunday, after our last hug, she hauled her little bike out, hopped on it, and rode as fast as she could to keep up with our car and keep waving. It made me cry, but in a happy way. So. I am really happy that Paige is my friend, especially being in college.

I really love my Child Development class. I know that I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I need to do. There is a lot of comfort in that. I really, really love my school. Can I tell you a secret? I don't really like my generals. They make me wanna quit school because they are all sorts of dumb. But when I'm in Child Development, it's like some magical land that doesn't even feel like school. And there is a lot of work, but it's like a party and the work is like a reward because I like it so much.

Today we watched that documentary. First of all, it was an hour and a half of no dialogue, just babies. HI. I'm down. And then, I realized that Sufjan Stevens songs I had never heard, but LOVED, were playing throughout. And even though there was a lot of saggy, is-that-really-boob-no-how-can-that-be-boob, boob, and the American mother hot-tubbed NUDE with her baby on her roof in San Fran (Wow, can that NOT represent motherhood in the U.S? I will totally shower with my babies, but hot tubbing is a bold move), I absolutely loved it. It brought me a lot of joy. Babies are just amazing. They are SO cool.

Conference is coming up, aaaaand, I get to spend conference weekend in Southern Utah. In Hatch, to be specific - my happy place.

I get to see Othello tomorrow, with my cute friend Katie. I think that is going to help a lot. I love me some Shakespeare. It's like he lives in my SOUL. Hi, Shakespeare. Hi.

I have a wonderful, wonderful mom. She always wants to talk to me, and hear about my day. We're best friends. I appreciate her now more than ever.

I love my roommate Kelsey. There's a couple things I particularly enjoy about her. First, she talks in her sleep at a level so loud, it wakes me every night. But the things she says make me laugh so hard that I'm always happy I woke up. Second, she sleeps through her alarms, and it actually doesn't bother me. I wake her up every morning all "tenderly." It is funny. She's crazy, but endearing-crazy, not like that one murder-stalker movie there were previews for. You know the one. It was called, The Roommate. She is a good listener. We have weird talks late at night. Also, one time we shared a Sleep Number bed. It went something like this:
Also, we are almost always feeling and thinking similar things. This is both a blessing and a curse in public situations.

I have a 40 minute bus ride every morning and I get to study my scriptures. It is SO nice.

I get to be with my family forever. I'm really grateful to have parents who love each other, and to have such funny sisters.

I made pesto pizza tonight, topped with mozzarella, tomatoes, and prosciutto. We ate the whole thing. Also, cucumbers. And homemade ranch. They are GOOD.

Aaaand.

I get to be best friends with this kid:

He is the best support I have, and the most loyal person I know.
And even if he can't always touch my hand, he always touches my heart.
Yep. That just happened. It was that cheesy. It's just the TRUTHS. Hahaha. All right, get outta here. I feel much better.
Good night. (:

Letters I Write Daily In My Head That I'll Never Send.

2011-09-23T17:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Couple in the Pope Science Building,

I see you over there, next to the railing. Yes. So does everyone else. If there were a class on the Science of canoodling, undoubtedly you'd be the professors. And you'd team-teach. It'd be freaky, but I think I could be fi - what? No. Why are you leaning in so, slowly? Like, painstakingly slowly. Either speed it up or STOP. Now your lips meet. I worry they'll part, but it's almost worse when they don't. It's like you're going to peck each other to death. And there you are. With your lips still tightly sealed into some sort of kiss-cone, no open-mouth action, awkwardly rubbing your lip-tips on each other and twisting your heads like a dog with a chew-toy. I? Nope. Just. Nope. That's not how that's done.

Concerned for your safety,

Me.

Dear Pregnant Woman on the Bus,

We seem to ALWAYS be on the bus at the exact same times, everyday. It's a shocker you're not in any of my classes. What is even more shocking to me, however, is the fact that you look so great, every single day. Is it (warning: racist comments ahead) because you are Asian, and therefore inherently able to pull off anything and EVERYTHING? Is it the fact that you have facial structure Tyra would literally kill for (she IS that crazy.) and a rockin' body that makes me wish for my own baby bump just because you've somehow created the false illusion that a pregnant body is BETTER? You're that fashionable. If I wore MC-Hammer pants and a graphic tee with a hooded scarf, the good old nine forty-six would drive right on by. With you? Not so. You're LEGEND.

Sincerely in awe, and looking forward to seeing you again,

P.S. I'm gonna search the Internet for the fashion blogs your baby has been writing up in all that amniotic fluid, cause I KNOW they gotta be good.

To all males in the laundry room (with a special emphasis of direction those who are legitimately under 5 feet tall):

When I bring my "delicates," jeans, t-shirts and dirty towels to the laundry room after nine thirty at night, I am not really sure why that is somehow the sweet, silent equivalent of a mating call to you. And also. If you have to look UP to hit on me, well, then. While I commend you for confidence, I must tell you... I really am here just so I'll have clean clothes tomorrow. That's all. Promise. Oh, is my phone ringing? Well. I gotta take that. I GOTTA TAKE THAT CLEAR BACK TO MY APARTMENT. At a sprint. I get better reception that way? Um.

Contemplating washing my clothes in my tub and blow-drying them,

Dear Socks,

What do I do in my sleep that offends you so? What do YOU do in my sleep that is so offensive to one another? Why do I always wake up to find that one of you has run off, leaving the other lonesome and me extremely discombobulated? Can't we all just get along? Also. WHERE do you creep off to? I make my bed and there's not even a hint of you. Your mate and I are sad. And pretty soon I'll be sockless, or I'll be pairing people that just DON'T WANT TO BE PAIRED.

Reading too much into the thoughts and feelings of inanimate objects,

All Peoples and Persons With Highly Offensive Body Odor,

I've been on the sidelines of a football game. I did clinicals for CNA. I have smelled terrible smells in my time. Today you taught me that college really does force me to go beyond anything I know. Thank you, too, for teaching me this solid fact: Drinking water while passing someone with excessive body odor is like inviting a monsoon of awful to give your uvula a splash. It can also kill you. I would know.

From beyond the grave,

Me.

Flight.

2011-09-19T14:32:00.001-07:00

"The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength in tribulation."

That is what is on my mind today.

ALSO. I, and everyone who regularly takes my Monday bus with me, got on the wrong bus this morning. We then got off, and got on another wrong one. I was still on time to my class, got there a minute before. BOOM, roasted.

I smelled like B.O. and cigarette smoke the rest of class. Neither of which were mine.

I... don't want to talk about it, really. Bye.

I hope you had the most wooonnnnderful day!

Also, I blogged here Saturday:

3 Cups of She

Quote of the Day.

2011-09-17T14:28:00.000-07:00

"True love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for the well being of ones companion."

-Gordon B. Hinckley-

I miss that man a lot, to be honest. I cry whenever I watch conferences and hear his voice.

They are the dream couple. Best friends, and equals, loving the gospel and each other every step of the way. Livin' their lives together and having each other's backs, even when apart. I love that.

Awkward.

2011-09-17T12:50:00.000-07:00

So, I feel like it is a commonly known fact that I highly enjoy making people uncomfortable. Whether I ever let on that I am doing so on purpose, eh, well, it depends on the day. It's sort of hobby. It's my second-greatest passion. After like... apples and cheese.

Well, this week, it was like everyone in the world around me caught on to how fun it really is to be awkward, and they turned on me. It was... well, for lack of a better word, it was awkward.

And really funny, after I accepted it. So many awkward situations, so many moments that I questioned, Why is this haaaaaapppppeeeennnnniiinnnggggg? But. Then I decided to love it, and I did.

To be frank, I've got two papers to write, and the ... awkward.... (see, now you wonder, and it's awkward? Why did I use a question mark? SO AWKWARD. ?) details of my week just don't need to be divulged. However, they include - but are not limited to - bleeding through my pants in the middle of a school day, walking into the boys bathroom in COLLEGE, etc.

It was really top notch. However. There were some awesome, awesome moments as well, don't get me wrong.

Anyway, I just feel that it's fitting that in culmination of this week, I just returned from the barbecue my apartment was having by the pool - with live music and everything - mind you, it should have been lovely, not awkward. But then... A guy walked in and strewn across his chest were THE biggest nipples I have ever laid my eyes on. I thought to myself, why did that guy glue two red coasters to his pecs? And then I realized. And I laughed so hard to myself. Then someone jumped in the pool and soaked me and my roommates poolside, and we were taken unawares since we were caught up in the Nips of DOOM! They deserve their own capitalization at this point. They're a poolside legend, in my mind.

And I thought, huh. That was, kind of, awkward. And I laughed all the way back to my apartment.

Bye.

This Song.

2011-09-12T18:33:00.001-07:00

This song is so close to my heart. And I was listening to it at a very opportune time this evening. Also. I like phone conversations with cute girls in Cedar City (HI MADDY HI) that make me laugh/feel weird all night, even when other things are... Well. Anyway, a year ago today, I was feeling this song pretty flipping deeply. Today, I feel it even deeper. Deeper? I don't care if that's not a word. You KNOW what I meant.

There is not a river wide
Not a mountain high
And neither sin nor evil
Could change how I feel inside
Could change how I feel inside

Not all the strength of the ocean
Not all the heat from the sun, from the sun
Though others have tried, I just can't deny
For me you are the one
For me you are the one

But true love is priceless
For true love we pay a price
But there's nothing can keep me from loving you
Not fire, no, not ice
Not fire, no, not ice

Like the hero or the champion
You are the best, you're the best
Like religion or superstition
With you I am blessed
With you I am blessed

Now the river may grow wider
The mountains may reach past the sky
But wether or not you feel the same
My love shall never die
My love shall never die

But true love is give and take
True love is sacrifice
But there's nothing can keep me from loving you
Not fire, no, not ice
Not fire, no, not ice

Music is nice, no? So are you. We'll talk about life soon.

But right now, let's talk about the fact that at FHE tonight, I was put on the boys' team, in high likelyhood because I didn't get ready. I had just gotten done esssercising, oKAY. I didn't have time to shower! I spritzed perfume... it should have been fine. Anyway. They were rewarded for their harsh judgement of me when I turned out to be a Catchphrase CHAMPION. We won 6-2! As a side-note.... Catchphrase has got to give me the same kind of metaphysical responses as being chased by an established murderer. PANIC sets in when that little guy starts beepin' in my hands.

Quotes:
"I'VE GOT A CORD, I'M ON A BRIDGE, WHAT AM I DOING????"
(when taken out of context, Catchphrase cues make me laugh a lot.)

And also,

"It's a common saying, but one that gives us heart:
'When the going get's tough, the tough get going.'
When trials and tribulations come, we can just hang tight and keep doing our best and things will eventually get better."

-Marjorie Pay Hinckley

And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience.
Romans 5:3

:) I like.

Um.

2011-09-11T13:55:00.001-07:00

I just really like this song.

Like. A lot.

And this quote, as well, after an up-and-down weekend:

I have two choices. I can choose to be happy or I can choose to be sad. I choose to be happy. "For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves." (D&C 58:28) -Marjorie Pay Hinckley

So, let's focus on the ups, shall we? :)

- My wonderful friend Emily came and visited me on Friday night and slept over! We had so much fun. I love her, and it was so happy to have her visit!
- I got my groceries for 41 bucks! And I got a lot of food, actually. :)
- The church is so true.
- The temple is a beautiful place.
- My sister Brittany is absolutely amazing. As is her husband Taylor. I love them so much. They take wonderful care of me.
- My yellow room will always be more comfortable than anywhere in the world.
- Sleeping in until 10 o clock in the morning is ridiculous. And by that I mean, ridiculously NICE. Oh sleep. How I've missed thee.
- My laundry is all done! YEAH PANTS AND UNDERWEARS! (I was fresh out, people. You can't go commando if you don't have pants. It's a vicious truth.)
- I got to see so many wonderful friends at my friend Cody Moulton's last show for two years. It made me regret not having gone to all his shows before this. He's the drummer for a rock/metal band called Spectara with his brother and sister and our friend Jordan. In all honesty, I expected to go, and... well. Love them, but not necessarily enjoy the music part. Based on the band playing before them, I was a little nervous. But guess what? They were absolutely amazing. Honestly. They played beautiful music, and I was so lucky to be there and receive the gift they were giving, and so stupid for not being more open-minded. Geez. You'd think at this point in my life, I'd have learned anything. Wrong.
- I love the scriptures. Best books in the entire universe.
- Water is the best drink ever.
- Laughing is the best.
- Pickles.
- This will sound silly, but... I logged on this weekend and noticed that the first person I don't personally know starting following my blog. It was so happy to me that someone who doesn't know me, wants to, and thinks what I have to say is worth reading. :) And their blog? Is DELIGHTFUL.
-My friend Emily's puppies. They're so FLIPPIN' CUTE. They're like happiness, covered in fur. Bigfoot and them have that in common.
- I've discovered a new and intense love for the fishtail braid. So, if I never, ever master a French braid, at least I got that option going for me.
- Friends. I have so many wonderful friends, and reading their blogs and hearing from them on mine is probably the best day-maker ever. It makes the whole college thing seem so much less lonely. It's like a MINI EMAIL. (This is not me fishing for comments. Hahaha. Awkward? Promise. I'm just saying, I like you.) Thank you for being wonderful and for caring about me. And for being in my life, in whatever way you are. :) I love you!

OOP! Deh It Is.

2011-09-08T20:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I get emotional. Not in a bad way, just like. Sometimes something is so beautiful it makes me cry, you know? Well, last night I read a paper my friend Courtney wrote and it was that beautiful. So I went in my room, and I couldn't quite let it out, you know? So I opened my false book (yeah, it's actually a box, but it looks like a book. It's pretty sweet. Don't rob me. There are no moneys in it.) with all my most prized possessions in it, and I pulled out my Mockingbird script before I even know what I was doing. I still know the lines, but I wanted to see them too. And I read them, and I just let go. I bawled. Briefly. And it felt awesome.

So, then. Sometimes, I wake up and braid my wet hair out of my face. And my cowlick is pretty close to my brain, so I guess it knows when I'm having a Jean-Louise kind of day, eh? Every time something is beautiful to me... there it is, again. There she is, and there I am, and we fit still. It makes me happy. :)
Getting two letters in one day? It can be nice.

Also, life is really funny, I feel. Like the fact that when I was at the Wilkinson Center bus stop at BYU yesterday, I saw this man, with fabulous wedges that a gal I know has, actually. Sooo. Here's a picture of that:
Do you like how I protected their identities? Me too. But I still think if you run into him, the shoes would give it away.
Yes. I did. Something to think about.

Also, to the RM that Charly and I have probably progressed to loathing:

First we thought you were awkward and wanted our tight little freshmen bods (hahaha, I'm KIDDING. We both think reading is a work out) to birth your babies. That may still hold true, but you have progressed to being something I cannot abide. When you shuffled into class after the three day weekend in a horribly-faked panic because you hadn't read for American Heritage, and I answered that I had and your face lit up, I was irked. Mostly because you were speaking to me. And you were leaning into Charly's personal SPACE to do so. Sir... could you not talk across my poor, sweet friend? I told you I was done, and you asked if it was difficult. I replied that it took me like nine hours and I took 16 pages of notes. You asked to look them over, just so you'd know how to take notes. I eyed you angrily, (you of course, loved the laser beams of straight-disgust and scooted closer into Charly's space) and warily pulled them from my bag. You SNATCHED THEM AWAY LIKE A HUNGRY RACCOON EATING TURTLE EGGS. You then proceeded to "look them over" for the next hour and ten minutes, and copy them word for word. Then, the last five, you scramble to copy our Physical Science notes - or in other words, everything you could've gotten down yourself if you'd actually even half-listened to the lecture.

Couple things - Charly and I don't like boys. We don't like each other, and I mean. We're attracted to the male variation of human. But we don't wanna date. We're BABIES.
- This is COLLEGE. This is not high school, where you could piggy-back right into A-town on the sad hump of some smarty-pants. You won't even understand my notes unless you read the freaking book.
-I'll be honest right now. I expected more integrity from a returned missionary. I get that they are real people, have flaws, but they have also been representatives of the church for the past year, so I know I'm stereotyping, but is stereotyping that wrong when I expected a GOOD quality? That is my WORK you are jotting down, idiot. I slaved over that and lost a day of any kind of social normalcy or interaction and sold my soul to that textbook for that sixteen page masterpiece! Flipping STOP right now.
-You touched Charly's arm today. Something reminiscent of a caress. Nope. Don't you ever. And you put your arm around her back, to RUB my shoulder on the other side of her, to get my attention. Um. Pretty sure a throat-clear, or even a tap - though I still would've hated it more than life - would've sufficed.

Charly and I were talking about it, and the mystery of your love for us as we walked out of class. Why would you keep sitting by us when we are so lukewarm to you? We don't even speak to you unless you initiate. We don't even greet you when you sit down. Not because we are being rude, but because we are not being, at all.

So. Not only are you on some crazy wife-hunt (which is much like a witch-hunt, only intensely more dangerous and psychological) in your two weeks home, you are one of those kids who cozies up to cute girls in classes, girls who are HALF YOUR AGE, sir, (being seriously creepy ages you. It's like dog-years, but much, much more rapid.) to steal their work from them and thus save yourself the effort that is any kind of college course at all.

In the words of my mother, when I called her, seething my loathing for you,
"Ew. Just. EW."

I love that woman.

Outcast. Like The Adjective, Not The Band.

2011-09-06T16:17:00.001-07:00

So, I'm really the toast of the town in Provo.

And by that I mean, no one in my ward even knows who I am. Does that bother me? Really and truly, no.

The thing is, is I feel I've made a stunning impression on everyone around my apartment complex.

-At the pool, I don't put on a full face of make-up. Here, that is the social equivalent of whipping out a razor to shave your upper, inner thighs poolside. I feel fine about both scenarios.

-When my home-teachers came to meet me Sunday night, I was wearing my mystical moose shirt and stretchy-pants. When I made a joke about me looking like a crazy moose girl, but that mostly I'm not, they both just shuffled uncomfortably and denied my other roommates invitation to come inside. They didn't look up the rest of the time and just hovered on my doorstep saying that they would... get back to me. They begged me bring to the peach cobbler in the oven to the break-the-fast. When my roommates and I burned it purposely so we'd have to keep it home alone, I sealed their hatred upon my head. My roommates are too cute and well-groomed to be hated.

-When the FHE girl (who is already sufficiently awkward and talks in a breathy, wispy voice, but somehow LOUDLY) came to get us for family home evening, I opened the door, and my tuna breath wafted out to her with my greeting, "Hey are you guys coming - " my tuna breath reaches her and she begins walking away backwards before she is even done with the question "-out for family home evening....?" Hahahaha, clutching my textbook, looking at her with a half-crazed grin, I call back into the depths of our apartment. "KELS-SAAAAAYYYYUHHH. FHE?" She calls back like she's dead. "Maybe..." I shrug at the girl, and apologize, gesturing to my big book. She takes an example from my textbook, and BOOKS it out of there. Byyyyeee! I wave after her. (I don't really know if my tuna breath was that decipherable. I like to think so. Hahahah.)

In all honesty, though. Sometimes I feel like an antisocial outcast. Just because my roommate who is taking like 17 credit hours at BYU is always going and going and going and playing with her best friend ALL the time, and my other two roommates are in hair school, which hasn't started yet, so they just lounge around going to the pool or game nights and I basically turn down every invite because I have reading and such... I'm mostly a freak. Anyway, this was getting to me a little bit on Monday, after reading American Heritage from 10-7:30 (this includes 16 pages of notes taken on 80 pages of the textbook, which I cross-referenced with the supplemental reading and also translated by looking up all the words I didn't know). Well, on my "break" I was writing a paper that's not due until the end of the month - when you got on a roll, you might as well... keep rolling :) And as she edited it, and was basically the best mom ever, my wonderful, wonderful mama made the really valid point that I'm here to do school.

And it's so, so true.

A kid in my ward said something Sunday that I really liked. He said it's really easy in college, especially living here in Provo with everyone trying to be the most proficient at everything, to feel inadequate in some way - whether it's having "enough" of a social life or not, or working out as much as you "should", or taking as many credits as this person, or having these people like you if they initially don't, etc. But we just shouldn't. Because our best is our best, and the Lord wouldn't want us to have THAT person's best or that person's habits, because that's not right for US. I don't know. I'm slaughtering it. He's our Sunday School Teacher. He looks like a prairie dog and spouts pure wisdom.

Anyway, I know that I am where I am supposed to be. I had an opportunity this week to be an instrument to help one of my roommates, and it was so important, and so worthwhile in the grand scheme of things, that it just made this feel right. Heavenly Father trusted me, with all my imperfections, to help Him. That is humbling. Even if I didn't love UVU like I do, or wasn't happy with my apartment complex like I am, etc., that single opportunity would have affirmed to me that the Holy Ghost led me to exactly where I need to be. All the turmoil in my decision making process would have been worth it for helping just that one person. It's not a coincidence that I was blessed with being her roommate. She is a wonderful example. I realize this is all really ambiguous, but the point is, I feel good about it. I also feel like I have lots of friends in my classes, and I make more every day, and I feel satisfied with that even if I am not fulfilling the college stereotype of partying it right on up. (Hey. You look at me. But don't, because I actually don't have pants on and obsessively stalking wedding dresses with my roommate. No, we're not getting married ANYtime soon. We just don't have dances to look forward to anymore.)

I am happy, and I feel like me. I feel like I am doing my personal best with the talents I have, and the amazing opportunity I have in going to college. I like staying in and reading, and that's not wrong, and doesn't make me lame. Nope. Not at all. My mom is so wiiiise. Plus, partying won't pay m'tuition. (I just said that like the guy on Napoleon Dynamite. Can't find m'checkbook. Hope you don't mind I pay ya in change.)

So. Maybe I'm the local moose-girl-recluse. I don't head to the pool every night or host game nights (though I easily COULD. And they would be AWESOME.) or spend two hours doing and re-doing my makeups to go cruising for boys. (I hope this doesn't sound like I'm dissing on my roommates or anyone who does do that. I love them, and everything about them. I just have to be Shelby. Which I'm kind of great at!)

With that said, I'd like to tell you that, yes. Maybe you are reading the words of a social outcast.
But, you are also reading the words of potentially the best animal-shirt-wearing, tuna-fish-eating, pickle-loving, yellow-wearing, laugh-happy-bookworm-of-a-Shelby there is. :)

Hi! I just like cardigans and college and learning, and YOUUUU. :)

Quote of the Day.

2011-09-05T11:28:00.001-07:00

Things You Never Want Your Roommate To Say To You.

2011-09-04T16:16:00.000-07:00

Before church today, as we were about to take roommate pictures:

Roommate: "Oh, my gosh! You look like a mommy." (she's grinning)

(I look at her?)

Roommate: "No, like... You just look like a mom!"

(I keep looking at her, and my hands creep to cover my belly under my pencil skirt.) "What, like I look eight months pregnant?"

Roommate: "No, you just look like you should be having a baby!" (makes a hand gesture up and down towards me)

Other roommate, who has been sharing bewildered eye contact with me the whole time: "I think she means you look classy, dude. Which you do."

Roommate: "You look like a cute mommy!"

Other roommate: "Dude. No."

I... still didn't change for church. But I felt significantly less attractive. :/ Hahahaha. Guess I won't be mailing those pictures to anyone anytime soon!

Running Sprints.

2011-09-01T14:23:00.000-07:00

Here is a tale. A semi-hilarious, but also, pretty awkward tale that can be true to life here at times.

Sometimes the stereotypes are very, very real.

Sooo, one time, and by one time, I mean Tuesday, you were an awkward lad across my Physical Science classroom. The classroom is a half circle, so if I look up and zone out, it's inevitably towards the opposite side of the room. I didn't feel it worth a mention Tuesday, but it has escalated and now is worth talking about. So okay, that's established. I look over there if I even look up at all. That's something totally fine, right?

Except, it began to be something I didn't like, because there you were, some kid across the room who kept looking over and trying to draw my eye, doing a little half smile, some sort of on-purpose slight blink... Um, excuse me? Can I help you? Probably not... because you'd like that too much.

But here's the thing about me, I have a weird brain. I jump to these places quite easily, so I got to thinking and realized I was probably being egotistical to think you was actually smiling at me and therefore creeping on me. I'm not a hot piece of woman, and I certainly don't groom for college. And that kind of thinking could very well be the result of paralyzing fear of all the MEN down here, or the prevalence of pepper spray in both my purse and my mother's conversations to me on the daily. Either way, I laughed at myself, and just decided to never look anywhere but at our professor for the rest of the time. Which was pretty easy. He's an enamoring person.

So fast forward to today. I'm sitting outside my Physical Science class with Charly and this other kid, and we're talking about life and school and what-have-you (whenever I think of that phrases, I think of my old CNA teacher Joy. She over-used it. She'd always say, what-have-you, and I'd say, what-have-I...? What HAVE I, JOY.) and it's all fine and good. Finally we start wrangling the elephant in the room - we are all going to fail this class. So, we whip out our phones to exchange numbers, Charly and I... and you, that KID from Tuesday, appear out of nowhere. Speedy as anything, you've got our numbers as well. I mean, what?! How does someone that tall just APPEAR? But you did. SWEET PETE HE DID.

Next thing I know, we're in class and you've somehow positioned yourself so that you're RIGHT at my elbow. I like to have a little elbow room. I make flailing arm motions. It's a habit. Anyway, you then proceeded to follow us when we moved up a row so we could see better. Which is totally fine, it's good to have associates in your classes. What's a little less fine with me - and I can be a petty person, I'll admit freely - is that for the rest of class, you insisted on copying my notes - word for word, placement on the paper and everything EXACTLY. You even touched my arm at times, leaned my paper toward you and smiled at me as though we were sharing some sort of special secret. My bubble (which, given, has times of non-existence and times of hyper-activity, depending) PROTESTED. SIR. No. You'd think someone coughcoughyoucough who had returned only figurative moments ago from your mission (2 weeks) would have more of a bubble. Alas.

After class, when I knew Charly would inevitably walk the other way, and I wondered to myself, which way you would choose to pursue. It was mine. You were suddenly towering over me asking, "So should we like, go to the book store or library and look for our textbook?" Um. Well, when did we become we? We've progressed quite quickly in the past fifty minutes, haven't we? Hasty, hasty. So I'm like, "Suuuuure?" in a tone I think betrays my weirded-outed-ness.

But you seem undeterred, and we continue on our merry way to the library. Our conversation is pleasant, and we get along just fine. Yet I can't help but feel a nearly paralyzing panic, as you pull you chair next to me, watch me do all the researching for out textbook in the computer rather than doing your own, as you continuously mention the fact that our afternoon class - about three hours from now, is also together. Do you think we're going to stay together until then? Sit together then as WELL?! My blood is pumping and I can't help but feel the enormously spacious library close in on me.

I... like to be alone. I really actually do. I love seeing people and hanging out between classes, but I like to reserve at least half an hour for myself. Is that selfish? Does that make me a bad person? Maybe, but this post isn't about my good qualities. It's about the fact that despite this kid's apparent normality, I just want to be ALLLLLOOOONNNNE. Let me be clear: I'm not against dates. I think they're good opportunities for free food. Oh I mean learning. But. What I am against is the changing of my subjective personal pronoun without reason or consent... When did I become we? I literally don't even know your name.

Couple strikes, here. Three, actually? Strike 1) You're an RM. Which is something I like, and something I want in my future spouse - but here's the clincher. I turned 18 nary two weeks ago. So the whole spouse thing is a loooooong way off. Moral of the strike: Everything you are is terrifying to me.
Strike 2) You are tall and skinny, charming, and have a slightly arrogant sense of humor, and you played hockey all through high school. Those close to me will understand why that is... awkward.
Strike 3) I JUST NEED TO START MY READING, I had planned to get it done during this three hour gap, maybe get a little sun in the courtyard.
Strike 4) (I hadn't intended on there being this many strikes. Sorry, mister. I am getting mildly carried away.) I didn't like the way you responded to my major and future life plans. I get that Early Childhood Education could potentially scream to you, I JUST WANT TO STAY HOME AND KNIT STOCKINGS FOR MY BABIES AND BRAID MY HAIR. I JUST WANT TO BE A MOTHER. And true, though I don't knit, I like all of those things. Stockings are nice. And I would be completely happy if I was in a position where I could focus on being a mommy. That's the world's best/hardest/most-fulfilling job. It's not for wimps. But. When I made the comment that it might sound dumb, your sweet reassurance, "No... I like it" complete with arm brush, was not appreciated. I won't mother your babies!

You and I then trekked to pretty much every building on campus. My conversation waned. However pleasant our friendship could've been, you were coming on too strong for me to stay engaged (poor word choice). Alone time, alone time, alone time. It played like some sort of Gregorian chant in my head. GET ME OUTTA HERE.

"So what're we gonna do for the next two hours?" Because yes, people. About one whole one had elapsed.
"I think I'm going to go read for another class in the courtyard."
"Cool, let's go."

So yes, when you finally saw someone you knew by the bookstore, I kept walking. Slowly, so as to seem casual, like I wasn't trying to remember techniques I had learned in ninth grade for running sprints. Except that I was. You seemed to notice my leaving - I was watching you with terror in the glass reflection behind me. You tried to disengage. I STARTED SPEED WALKING LIKE AN OLD WOMAN IN THE PARK. I couldn't help it!! You finally got away. I was already out in the courtyard, literally leaping across the cement blocks in the fountain to get away fast enough. You were coming after me. I spied a woman wedged in the corner, reading a textbook. By herself. Just as I would like to have been doing. So even though I knew she wanted to be alone - knew because I UNDERSTOOD, woman, I invaded her space. I wiggled my big booty somehow in the six inches (I'm exaggerating) of space between her and the cement wall - clearly leaving no room for the "we" that somehow had formed... And then there you were, standing over me as I tried to read my textbook. Welp. It's college, with so many people walking by, I might not have seen you. It's plausible.

You did one of those laughs, that begs someone to look or ask you what funny text you just read. I stayed focused. You walked off.

I spent the next two hours recounting this story and other, weirder ones that cannot even be posted on my blog to my friend Natalie. She walked me in to my afternoon class to protect me, but there you were, standing up and shouting my name like we'd just made out. When I gave you a friendly, but curt, "Hello to you, sir!" and hurried to my seat with my new friend Haley across the room, you then spent the rest of class staring at me like we should have inside jokes about everything said. I was just trying to underSTAND anything said. You began encroaching on the space of the girl next to you, your arm around the back of her chair, and your eyes on me like this should make me WILD.

When that didn't work, you listened for my name on the roll and PROMPTLY ADDED ME ON FACEBOOK.

Sir, stop. I just wanted to spend my in-between-class-times-alone, and by snatching that away from me like a greedy obese boy in the M & Ms store full of samples, without any indication of my wanting your company at that time, you ruined any chance of you not bugging the absolute HELLO out of me.

Bye.

Heaven in School.

2011-08-31T23:17:00.000-07:00

So... want to know something awesome?

My Child Development class is honestly the best place ever. My teacher is crazy and a life coach and therapist, so she throws out these gems about being brave and a better person the whole class period. She talks about energy shifts and developmental and artistic stages... She's basically a hippie but not. And even though it's an almost three hour class, it FLIES by, and I'm left wanting more.

Here are my notes from today:
- This class should be CHILL. I repeat CHILL. Take your shoes off, talk a little, text some, relax.

-Bring food. It's that time of night.

-The same hormone is released when you fall in love as when you hold your baby.

-What happens in here, absolutely and one hundred percent stays in here.

-Babies heads are 1/3 their body size, but that's not the case now. Because it's not cute now, ladies. My boobs would be my eyes, HELLOOOOO HEADLIGHTS.

-Age is relative and love is about certainty. If you date for 12 years and don't know it, you won't ever. If you date for three months and know it, you know it. It has to be an emotionally linked, but logical decision, and that can be reached in three weeks or three years. If you know it, you KNOW it.

-If it's due Friday, get nervous Monday. That way when someone dies Thursday, you're already done.

-When you have someone you dislike, or even hate, and that does happen, step into their energy. Get in their space.

She had us do an actual exercise where we stepped out of ourselves and yet saw ourselves still sitting in the chair. We did that like three times and then we sat back in ourselves. Then we got up again and sat in someone else's energy and tried to see ourselves from their eyes. Basically, if you ever have a conflict with someone, do this... I was skeptical, but it was really, really cool. And made me feel like the gosh dang devil for every mean thought I've ever thought about anyone I dislike. She said you can't say, oh if I were them I would never do that. Because if you were truly them, and allowing yourself to really be in their energy and space in life, and truly seeing yourself in their eyes and the situation. you would do exactly whatever they did, because you'd be them. Does that make any sense?

She sounds crazy, but I promise she is SO smart and knows her stuff. It is amazing. I think she would totally get the breath-work. Also, she taught Aerobics on the side of her private practice for like 20 years just because she liked it... so that was magical when we did that on the break. Hahahaha.

Also, it's a class of all girls so we laugh and talk about husbands and boyfriends and babies and it makes me really happy. ALSO. There is a girl with the slowest voice ever. I sound like a jerk (maybe I need to go SHWIM in her energy, eh, professor?) but it's true. It's like... seven words per minute. I have no idea how one develops the capacity to move through life so slowly. But I mean. I liked her striped shirt and glasses a lot. Also, there is a lady who drifts in and out of a British accent often. I feel I should hook her up with Mr. Stevens back at Davis. They could have children that no one would sincerely know their origin. Because the children wouldn't either. Their whole life would be a confused, eccentric, nick-named blur.

AND. I get to watch children for 16 hours over the course of the semester. So. If I call you up and ask to spend 4 hours with your kids just watching and doing as little actual interacting as possible... I promise my intentions are good?

HI KIDS.

Day DOS. I'm Bilingual Already.

2011-08-30T23:30:00.000-07:00

Hiii. I'm sure you just LOVE me blogging every single detail of my life. Whoever you are. Out there. Hahaha. So. That's fine.

Anyway, I am pretty much on a blogging roll, because I'll be honest, I'm about sick to death of Facebook... And I couldn't really say why. Maybe it's a blessing that my creepy obsession/time-wasting temptation is beginning to wane. Maybe I'm just maturing (weeeeird) and trying to focus on school whilst still staying connected. Maybe it's because I think it's hilarious that after I defriend people I haven't talked to for 3+ years, in any way, shape, or form, they immediately re-add me?? Mostly I think it's because if someone really wants to know about my life, they can check my blog, and not my Facebook page.... Honestly, I tend to think it's just because I'm lazy.

So! Let me tell you about my second day of college.

Hahaha, my roommate sleeps through her alarms, and full-on talks in her sleep (which I definitely can't be mean about, since I do as well.) And she has got the weirdest sounding alarm clock! So when it went off this morning, I woke up - she didn't - and I was like, "Kelsey. Kelsey. KELSEY. Is that your alarm?!" And she was like, "Nooo. It's not." Clear as day. So I am like sitting up, looking around like a crazy bird or something in my nest of covers and unshowered grease (I thought I'd be cool if I didn't wash my hair on my first day of school. In hindsight... well. I still wouldn't wash it if I could go back.) because I am thinking it's like our smoke alarm or something. Finally, about five minutes later of this incessant, crazy beeping that ONLY speeds up with time, she sits straight up and is like, "Am I awake? I'm sorry. That just always fits so perfectly into my dreams..." Bless her little heart. She's a sophomore. :)

I RODE THE BUZZZZ. Um, hi. I was so scared to ride the bus. The only times I've had to ride the bus for an extended period of time is with whoever I was peer tutoring at the time senior year, and also to Cedar City. Neither required anything but having a pulse on my part... Sooo. Hi. I studied my bus schedule for like twenty plus minutes. Also, I called my mom like three times, and bus hopped to like four different stops until I figured out one that coincided with the bus I needed. Why were there so many STOPS so close together?! But the bus ride was so nice. Surprisingly air-conditioned, and I had time to read like five or six chapters in the Book of Mormon. I'll be honest, I got a lot, lot, lot more out of it than I have for a while. It's hard when it's right before I want to sleep, and when I don't read more than a chapter. Once you I got going, I remembered junior year when I read more than a chapter a night and had that feeling. I have it again. I just wanted to shout at the people, HAVE YOU READ THIS? THIS IS THE BEST BOOK EVER.

Also, the bus rider and I were alone for a couple stops. :))) He had a silky, finely layered mullet type deal and aviators. I was clutching my taser. Just in case. But after a couple stops, people got on. It's a pretty lengthy bus ride, and I honestly can tell you I did not mind it one bit. I loved it. So. Yes. I am grateful for bus rides today.

The part-time job fair was happening when I got to school today, but my mama wants me to wait a semester before working. Also, I looked around they were all jobs that you have to be on the phone a lot for, rather than actually going in somewhere to work. That seems less enjoyable than a physical job to me.

When I got to my Physical Science class, there was an adorable girl with glasses sitting outside of it. I kept getting a prompting to talk to her, so finally I did. We talked for about half an hour. Her name is Charly and I really, really enjoy her. It made my heart so happy when she asked if I was ready to walk in at about five to, and sat by me. Also, we kept making funny eye contact - since my Physical Science teacher could very well be bat shiz crazy. He's teaching at sites, which means when we ask a question, we ask it into the microphone, and our classroom is on a big screen in the back, and then on another screen, there are all the other little classes he is teaching - mostly high school kids getting college credit. But. I'm going to have to keep it in my prayers, because I didn't understand a WORD he was saying. Also, he looks like Boggis, Bunce, and Bean, from Fantastic Mr. Fox. I need to rewatch it do determine which one I mean. Just picture a little Claymation man in a plaid button-up, who all the time resembles a dry-voiced owl, with his eyes half open and his silvery-dark hair combed in a fancy Pompadour fashion, yet he occasionally gets these bursts of energy where he shouts and does a big hand motion and laughs to himself, but his expression somehow stays the same, eyes still half open and face still blank. I kind of love him.

I walked out of that class, and since it was in the top level of the BA (use your imagination on that acronym. My school is awesome, you're not wrong.) building, I walked out on the cement steps and my eyes were greeted by this sweet vision:

Um, HI. I go to school here?! It's this happenin' every day. There is always something fun going on and people are SO friendly. I walked down into the courtyard and since I had a few hours until my next class, I decided to go talk to this girl Cori. I texted her last night after Cody dropped me off for the last time and asked if it was possible to make a movement to petition for UVU to get a major they don't currently carry. She said it was VERY possible, so I went and found her in the crowd, since she's on UVUSA, and I thiiiink pretty much involved with everything. I like her so much. She got me in contact with some cool people, and they'll pitch the idea to the Dean of Education Thursday. They said what he'll do is want to guage interest, so I need to do that. I know there were several girls in my orientation group who wanted Special Education as a major here as well, but they were supposed to go HERE when they prayed about it... Which is a dilemma since we don't have that here. Maybe they need to be here to help me get this going! I have two years to wait until I'd start that program, so it's okay if it's a long process. But how awesome would that be if I didn't have to transfer after finishing my Associate's and certificate in Early Childhood Ed?! I flippin' love it here. I'm not regularly this assertive (I feel like that's an awkward word depending on your tone) and I'm really happy about it.

Sooo, then I called my friend Katie after getting that squared away. She didn't answer... :/ But they were serving burgers and a beautiful man was singing covers of every song I like. So in my heart, I knew Katie couldn't be... TOO far. She is an appreciator of beautiful men. And sure enough, I turned around after meeting some people, and there she was with her burger. SO. I joined the MAWL (Mighty Athletic Wolverine LEAGUE - I wish it was like. The League of Extraordinary Gentleman. I never saw that movie, but that title makes me chuckle. I'm chuckling right now.) which means I will get in FREE to all athletic events the next two years as well as get free foooood for a lot of thing. That pleases me. :) Also, we ate our burgers on the grass and met some nice girls who laughed with us and took our picture. Because I'm a picture-taker. I just am.

A tattooed-man stand-up canoeing in the fountain obliged our request to try it out for ourselves.

Hahahaha. All these pictures just look like we all touched each other awkwardly. We never did. We were just tensed for a fall.

I abandoned ship very quickly when we began to sink. I did NOT however slap his bum in thanks, as it appears.

SUCCESS! We were meant to fly solo!

You can pretty much take this as their wedding announcement.

Anyway, that was pretty much glorious, and then I walked Katie to class. I found a nyyyoook (a nook) and read people's blogs for a while since I don't have textbooks to read yet. Eventually, I went and found my next class. It feels HUGE just because classes are so small here, but it's really only like, 100 people. My American Heritage teacher is like a tender, occasionally eccentric grandma. I like him so much. But again.. I have NO idea what he is saying. He'll just start waxing poetic and using words I've literally never heard of to describe riots that happened across America, and social issues, and things in our history and I'm like... When was this? I am a fool and a sucky American, apparently. But I guess that's why I'm taking the class. He's only having us write viewpoints, which is SUCH a relief. He said he wants our voice, our personal feeling and opinion in them. This isn't a report, this is US. I love that. We write two a month, a page long each, and he says he figures that adds up to a term paper. He used to teach at BYU, so occasionally he incoorporates religion. I don't know if that offends anyone, but I really enjoy it when he does that.

...Also, there was a point when he grabbed the front table and leaned over it and yelled, "I'MMMMAAAMUUURDDDDERerrrrrrr." I don't know why, but I laughed, sooooo hard.

Also, in the bus ride home, I met a girl named Sydney, who went to Davis High, graduated the year before me and lives at my apartment complex as well. I mean HI. How cool is that? It made the 45 minutes even more delightful. I love making frieeenddds. (to be read in a desperate voice)

Also, I got to take my cute roommates to their Institute class at BYU, and since it was my first time driving down here, I am further convinced that that campus can sometimes be the gateway to Hell. I'm not trying to bash on BYU or anyone who goes there. I'm just trying to tell you, if it's a nightmareish campus not under construction... imagine when it is. And when the policemen directing traffic are too friendly and NOT helpful. Ugh. On a happy note, I picked up my friend McCall and she is doing SO good. We had a lovely chat for about an hour. As a side note, if you are a male and you are a tool to McCall. You know who you are. And I will castrate you. :) Have a nice day! It's fine.

Theeen, after I picked them up and dropped McCall off, my friend Katie came and got me for the UVU Welcome Week GREEN OUT DANCE. You know, I think I just have a problem with people making anything a ____-OUT, unless it's a blackout. The colors just remind me of awkward things. Green-out sounds like the after effects of too many Fiber One bars. I'm NOT obsessed with poop, people. This is just a prevalent theme in college apparently.

Anyway, I was pretty leery of the big Green Out. So was Katie. We nervous laughed our heads off the entire drive down to campus. As a side note, she has programmed the Garmin GPS in her car to speak to her in a British accent. She calls him Mr. Darcy. He's sweet. And so crisp! Honestly, I couldn't be happier Katie is down here. She's one of those people you could confess anything to and not get judged, but also one of those people who will scream their head off in an immature girly way about love. I love that. And her.

So we entered the GREEN OUT.

I was given a pat-down because I'm a suspicious person. For serious.

College dances are awkward, sweaty, and full of THINGS. We stayed on the outside of the crowd.

People dance for real at college dances. We dance like we're still at DHS in good old Kaysville.

This little lad wanted so badly to be in all of our pictures. It obviously made me angry. This is not a posed picture. Also, as we were leaving, he was like, "Laaadies, please stay?!!!" Nope.

He didn't work there. :/

UVU!!!

Sombrero!

Pickin' her thang.

Doin' her thang.

Partyin' with other girls who DIDN'T come to meet guys. They were hilarious. Also, the girl on the far left is in my American Heritage class we figured out! :)

GENERAL SPLENDOR.

Things I learned at the dance:
I am a terrible, funny dancer. I just never stuck out so badly in my bad dancing at Davis High. I was in good company. Now I'm at the ballroom dancing capitol of the world basically - er'rybody got rhythm.
Boys who think it's fine to touch my waist as you lean in and apologize for passing so close - DON'T. And don't rub my shoulders. GET OUTTA HERE. I'm sweaty and I'm on a lady date!

I am awkward on purpose... I like people who are awkward with me. Bye.

Your Mom Goes to College.

2011-08-29T19:15:00.000-07:00

And probably with me, since today was my first day of college!!! HI. :) I'm legal and go to college classes.

Today I only had one - I know you are jealous, yes? Magical Mind Mondays - because my only class is Psych, and it's GREAT for my peace of mind. Well you should be quite jealous, maybe, because I quite like my Psych professor, I think. He has Tourettes, which is kind of awesome, but not quite as awesome as it sounds, since it's mostly facial ticks and rarely swearing, he said. Still. I like the sound of it.

It was so interesting, and mostly like an AP class who hit the gym a little over the summer. Like... over the summer between ninth grade and sophomore year. That's when children begin to look like men, I feel. It's something nice to come back to school to... I mean. If I was still a sophomore. Not that I like children. Heh. :/

Anyway, observations about my first day in college:

Sigmund Freud was apparently sex fiend, not a scientist.

There is legitimately a lad who looks like he is wearing those glasses with the nose and mustache and eyebrows attached... except that those are all his real facial features. I smiled everytime I watched his profile. If I'm ever caught, we'll have a situation on our hands, and he'll probably go home and write a rant in his blog (I've decided he has one) about the creepy girl who always somehow sits diagonal and above him in his Psych class. I feel I would love that.

I will have to write a total of two papers this whole term in Psych. And they will both be something I enjoy.

Wearing my Scout and Boo Radley necklace close to my heart can make me brave anywhere.

People watching opportunities have multiplied exponentially.

And, first day of school pictures are hard to take with a webcam... So I really need to get my camera down here.

And finally, tears taste much better on a laughing mouth, and goodbyes are best when they don't really feel final.

And hi. Listen to this song. I kind of love that Dave Matthews covered it. Oh, John Lennon is like the gift that keeps on giving. I hope you had a lovely day. I really, really did. :)

COLLEGE! I go there.

Farewell.

2011-08-28T22:52:00.000-07:00

It's pouring rain outside, it's the middle of the night, and it's absolutely lovely.

Also.

I had the chance of going to two farewells today - one for my cousin Josh whom I worked with this summer and love dearly. He brings me such genuine joy and I have loved watching him transform into the happy, hard-working person he is today. It was beautiful to see him speak in the same meeting as his older brother, who has just returned home from serving a mission. The Spirit was so powerful, and I was so proud to know both of those boys.

And then one for my very best friend Cody, which was coincidentally also beautiful.

I don't meant to be creepy (I realize I already earned +20 creepies by posting a picture that looks like we had a baby and he wants to hit me rather than get the hair out of my eyes, but really I just like how it shows how comfortable we are with each other.) but I just wanted to say that I feel really lucky today to have so many wonderful, true friends who hold the priesthood and are anxious to serve the Lord and give their all, and obey with exactness. Friends who have brought me so much happiness that I can't even express it.

I'll go ahead and get sentimental and really honest with you. In my life, I haven't ever had a very, very consistent friend for a long period of time. I usually go from person to person or group to group, not like I become NOT friends with the other person or group, I just have always spent my time with a lot of different people. And I think it's been very good for me, and helped me to know that I love being ME, no matter who I am with or not with or whatever, and helped me to meet so many different, wonderful people. I'm just always going to be Shelby, and I'm lucky that that fits with a lot of different people.

However, I have never had someone stick with me so consistently, and so incredibly patiently as my friend Cody has. I've had people I've called my best friends because of bursts of constant contact we had, but I've never had anyone who wanted to stay with me, and stay close. Until the past year. And it has been the absolute best one of my entire life. I have experienced true friendship. I have shared, across any amount of distance, state lines, sixty miles, or sometimes just a couple blocks, a year of life with another person. Every single triumph, heartbreak, scare, victory, testimony-builder, weird-man-passed-on-the-street-who-needed-to-be-recounted, good beard seen, and laugh with another human being. How lucky am I.

"True friendship helps give meaning to life. It is an anchor for the soul. Based on the pure love of Christ it is security and trust between two individuals and is stronger than the cords of death because it transcends this mortal existence."

Get ready, world. You've got some pretty incredible missionaries comin' atcha.

(Josh and Cody will be stellar missionaries, and I'm already gearing up to write them both letters so creepy, even the postman will wanna hear the gospel he'll be laughing so hard. Cause the Holy Ghost will tell him he has to read them, of courrrse! Gash. Church is just AWESOME.)

A Secret.

2011-08-25T13:23:00.000-07:00

Can I tell you a secret? No... like, come closer. Hi. Closer. CLOSER, DANGIT.

Um, well, here's the thing. I am moved into my apartment. As in, I slept here last night. All Tuesday night packing, I just kept thinking... what am I doing, what, am I DOING? And, as happens with my A.D.D./sometimes flat-out refusal to deal with scary things, I had a really hard time focusing. Luckily, Cody was there, and he was a task-master. Picture him as a master builder in Egypt, cracking the whip. But... really don't. Picture him actually wearing my old extensions and looking like so:
Needless to say, I got done an hour earlier than planned.

He doesn't really have a fivehead. But he does always look good. So.

I hardly slept at all Tuesday night. I mean, genuinely and truly, I tossed and turned and felt restless all night long. That is NOT a problem I usually have. When I woke up at six, I felt like I'd never gone to sleep. I felt like a piece of dried poops, and I looked it. I was dragging my feet getting ready, and I honestly couldn't understand why - putting wet hair into a braid has never really taken all my time before. I had a feeling I couldn't identify, and it was heavy and not about to dissipate.

Driving down, I was terrified to show any hint of the crap-my-pants weirdness I was feeling. (Why do I reference poop so much? Haahaha.) Anyway, I felt like I couldn't show an inch of doubt or flinch in the face of the day coming with my mom watching my so closely, and so on edge herself. Any doubt I had that could mean I would stay home with her, well, she's going to want that. She wants me to be happy and do what is right - she is the most wonderful mom the whole world - but she also wants to be with my always. And she will be. :) However, I didn't want my doubts to feed her doubts... It was a quiet drive down.

During check-ins at my apartment, I had terrible anxiety. Of everything, and everyone. This little apartment complex - that had felt so warm, and comfortable, and fun, and right... felt terrifying, and hostile. I may or may not have been responsible for a random fire of alternating looks of discomfort and fear as well as looks of disgust at everyone. (I know, I can be terrible.) I especially didn't want to encounter my roommates. Which is weird, right? I just kept thinking it would be awkward. That I would be awkward. I felt shy and tall and so, so way too little for this place. I kept thinking, What am I doing? Seriously, I have no idea what I am doing.

So, I get to my apartment, and I see another roommates stuff - I panic! Then I realize they are not actually in the apartment - absolute relief. I felt numb while I unpacked... it was just so unreal to me. We went shopping for a while, and yes, Walmart in Provo is everything you think it'd be. There was most definitely an old man with a mop in the doll aisle, who at exactly the moment we passed, was in a stare-down showdown with a baby doll that had a disproportionately large head - you know like they do now, like that's cute? - and was therefore leaning a bit forward out of it's plastic shell. As we passed, he tapped it's forehead twice with his index finger, and chuckled to himself. Also, there was a lady with the shortest buzzed mullet I've ever beheld, yet it was so long and luscious in the back. It was gray and her name was Thelma. You can't make these things up, people! It's real. We came home and unloaded groceries for a while, and put my name on them. I totes have my own cabinet and drawer in the kitchen. It's actually surprisingly big. Then my roommate came in, and gave me a hug. And she was adorable. And I was like... I feel weird. Even though I assure you, I was quite less weird than normal. I was unpacking and talking to her, and I just felt so weird.

Then my mama took me to dinner, and we laughed and ordered the same thing. We even got me a bunch of art supplies at Hobby Lobby to fill my time - and remarkably spacious apartment, actually. Also, we went to the Creamery to get some milk and eggs and butter for cheap. The smell in that store is something I want to drink - the people, not so much. However, I was quite pleased to find a restroom in there so I could poop. (Bowel movement reference #3. You're welcome.) I didn't know these girls well enough yet to share my stank! And I was just dreading going back to my apartment with my roommates. But we did. And there was a girl named Olivia, who was so likeable and beautiful and had her whole family around. My mom kept guard of my window and blinds while I changed, and then she told me she was going to leave. Oh, man. Good thing there were other people around, because that was awful. We hugged, and I knew the second our hearts were close enough to feel each other be sad, we were both going to be in tears. I was right.

Luckily, she pulled away fast, and also luckily, I was in running clothes already, having changed. So I just popped back into my apartment for shoes and my key, wiped all my makeup off, and took off for the clubhouse. (I know you just pictured me in like an ascott and cardigan, running like a girl with my tennis racket and man legs. That's about right.) Once at the clubhouse, I hurried like a maniac with tears in my eyes up the stairs to the fitness room. I jumped on a machine and started running, until I had legitimately reached the point of not knowing whether it was tears or sweat running down my face. To the man who walked through, and at who I shouted, "HI, I'M NEW HERE," you're welcome. You probably didn't know you hadn't it in you to enter and exit a room at the same time, and with such stamina. Now you do. Hahaha.

But here's the thing. I got back after my run, and I was all alone. Welp, I was all alone with one of the dad's of the other girls... :/ I mean, I know he was a nice guy, but I still felt weird about it. So I just went in my room and closed the door... I ATTEMPTED to do Six Week Six Pack - Jillian Michaels. Britt was kind when she bought that and had faith in me. But since our apartment was about 84 degrees and I still had sweat/tears on my face, I stopped about halfway through. It was stuffy, and like I said... I didn't feel ready to share stank with these girls. "Oh, I worked out while you were gone!" "Yeah.. It's permeating..." No thanks, guys.

So about an hour later, when my sweat had caked and I'd given up all hope of a post-workout shower in the privacy of my apartment, I heard her dad leave, and I decided, what the heck, dried sweat is like the ocean (I don't know what I'm saying) and to make muffins since Cody was going to come visit me this morning. So I did. Couple things, here, people. If you're still with me here, congratulations. I'm rambling because I want to remember my first night at college in a lot of detail, and I'd be lying if I said I journalled at all.

So, baking reminds me of my wonderful mama, and sometimes, I like to be alone to process things. So this looked to be the perfect set-up. And you know what? I realized I was really, really, really happy. Isn't that weird? It was still surreal, and you'd think I'd feel the most lonely by myself, but I just felt really happy. I got a call from my wonderful sister Tori, and we talked and laughed, and it was all good. I was quite literally dancing around my kitchen singing to myself. Had I cracked more than eggs? Who can really say? But I felt so good. And my friend called and was having a rough time and wanted to visit. And knowing she was down here and that I could invite her over, made me feel 20 times better. So she decided to come over, and I decided to love that. Cause I did.

So we talked for a couple hours and I fed her muffins whilst Lysoling every last inch of my kitchen. And my roommate Olivia came home and was in and out for a while. And the more I spoke with her, the more I realized... I really liked her. She's from New Jersey.

And after Marissa left, my other roommate arrived, and her name is McKenna. She is a tiny ball of energy and AWESOME and she makes me laugh so much.

We may or may not have stayed up late into the night/early into discussing boys and things we love/hate, etc. GUYS. It's like girls camp on steroids! With better housing and without the opportunity of peeing outside. Which, while tempting, is an invitation for trouble in coool-idge.

Anyway, this morning I woke up bright and early and tidied again, and got to eat breakfast with Cody, who came to visit on his way home from visiting work friends at the HFAC at BYU. Guys, it was so fun! We talked and ran errands, and are now proudly housing Cody's works of art - Bret and Jemaine, of Flight of the Conchords. My roommates think he's a cutie, of COURSE, and once he was gone (he left around 11, he's a productive lad) I got to play with Olivia and McKenna all day. They're so creepy about boys, so I love scopin' out men for them and giving them free reign. I'm like their dad. Only because we decided Kelsey is the mom. Anywhoooo... I may or may not even be one of those creepy "moms" that "accidentally" throws their keys so their "children" have to go pick them up by the cute boys. I realize that sentence probably didn't make sense to you... But. I think I'm funny.

Anyway, I'm absolutely exhausted, so I'm headed to take a nap. I LOVE THIS. :) Why was I so a'scared?

Also, I typed freedom into Google images, and this is what came up:

Hahahaha. Abe Lincoln is my boyfriend.

So, Maybe This Is Old News.

2011-08-17T15:38:00.001-07:00

But... watch this video first:

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
And then watch this:

Hahahahaha, I laughed for the entire time. My dad's gonna LOVE this. King George is my boyfriend. FIDDLE SOLO! Ale spill!

Also... It's my birthday. :) You'll hear about it soon. I'm 18!!! Legal. :/ Now I can't do ... a lot of... thingggss.

And I blogged here today:

3 Cups of She !

Pick a Saint.

2011-08-16T13:36:00.000-07:00

So, last night I had the chance to go see one of my favorite friends perform her BUTT off in a little show called Nunsense! She was pretty much the coolest nun you ever saw in your life, complete with green converse and argyle socks, which she frequently flashed the audience. Also, there were points that she could've been channeling her youngest, and currently craziest child, Amy, who tends to grab my face tenderly and play with my hair before pulling it suddenly so she can whisper in my ear, "Hey. You a handi." Hahahaha. I couldn't love her more.

Now, I know I've talked about Andra frequently, and quite honestly, may never stop doing so. So. Buckle up and get used to it! Andra was my teacher for three years of high school, but more importantly, she was genuinely, and is truly, my friend. I can't even tell you what a blast it was to watch her be physically onstage, since I've watched countless versions of all the goodness she is flit across the stage through her influence as a director, teacher, and friend to the students at Davis High School. She is vividly present in whatever art we make or give.

Still. I cannot in words describe to you the absolute joy I felt seeing her actually on stage, performing, her eyes alive, her legs flailing hysterically, the swear words she can use better and less offensively than anyone I've ever met falling from her habit. She was basically shooting laser beams of laughter with every rock-on sign she made to the audience. Oh man. I was smiling so hard the entire time, that I think this is probably the first time in my life I can truthfully say that my face hurts from smiling. Yeah, like I was THAT happy. And people were probably like, who is that slap-happy fool in the fourth row who's not even wearing a real bra and is practically levitating out of her freaking seat she's so jolly? And I'm like, Hi... That's me. :)

Seriously, it was amazing. Also, even though it was freaking hilarious and the Reverend Mother got so high at one point that I felt like I was back in junior high gym class, trying to watch people run laps under the influence. (Hahahaha. No. That really was a funny memory.) So. Anyway, even though it was ridiculously hilarious, I'll be honest, there were points I had tears in my eyes - like when Andra sang about being a star, and she kicked freaking A. (This really deserves a swear because it was so freaking hardcore, but. My mom reads my blog. Hiii, mom.) And then when she sang about why she became a nun, and the influence a nun had on her at school, I was in tears again. And I was not the only one on my little row of friends, who were also former students. It's because we were all thinking about her. And how she influenced us into the people we are and are going to be.

Simply put, I love this woman, and watching her in this show was such a gift. She was, incredible. Also, she looks great in a habit, sounds great with a jersey accent, and yes, she looks better in a french braid and sweat-drenched after a show than you ever. Also, she has the world's sickest RV, which her adorable family has named Camptimus Prime - yeah. YEAH!!! :) And they used it as the dressing room, because apparently the actual ones behind the amphitheater were BLOODY hot. (I wouldn't know if it was a warm evening - this from a girl who's hands literally DRIP hot, steamy sweat while the rest of my body has constant goosebumps and runs a temp always at least 2 degrees below normal. Yes. I have still found boys who will hold my hand. One who even likes it. Don't ask? Because I don't understand it either. Just... in the words of my Grandma, "For every Jack, there's a Jill." So yeah, for all you sweaty freaks out there... THERE'S HOPE.)

Back to Andra, though, and this show! There were five women in the cast, but the power and enormity of their work and their play onstage made it seem so much more than that. I can't say enough about the joy seeing this play last night brought me. Seriously. A week before I move, grumpy and heavy as I expected to be, I felt light as air, and completely filled with love. Carefree. Just another gift this woman has given me, I suppose.

In the final number, they said something about how you can just pick a saint and declare, I'm holier than thou! Besides having a SLAMMIN' beat, it made me think. I looked down at my crumpled program, where I'd read Sister Robert Anne's bio earlier, and read that Andra had listed To Kill A Mockingbird among one of her favorite works she'd done, and that she was dedicating her performance to all students past and present. Of course that got me teared up, too, so there I am, wreaking of bug spray, since the critters were crawling once the sun went down, convulsing those around me by the second act, and grinning from ear to ear with glistening eyes. PEOPLE AROUND ME, SIR WITH THE SKINNY STACHE A SEAT OVER - YOU ARE FINE WITH IT.

And I just looked at my friend up on stage, one of my very best friends - something Anne Shirley would call a kindred spirit, and I thought, you know, she's not quite a saint (it's hard when you're not Catholic or getting burned for something awesome), but she's pretty dang close. And if I can grow up and be even half the person she is, touch even half the lives, share my art and my joy and my... me-ness even half as effectively?

Well, then I'll consider myself pretty lucky to have picked her, as my friend and a role model.

Time.

2011-08-14T18:27:00.000-07:00

"And when is there time to remember, to sift, to weigh, to estimate, to total?"

Lingerie.

2011-08-11T20:53:00.000-07:00

So, today on my way back from freshman orientation, I stopped at the Ross in Farmington, to return some... er... unmentionables I'd bought for my friend Riley. She graduated with me and we've been friends for years and years, and she's getting married September 1. She asked me to throw her friends and family shower since her ward shower was already taken. That shower will be thrown by me this Saturday, in fact.

And I'm happy to shower her. In a friend way. :/ Without water. Just with friendship. ANYWAY. I just couldn't feel happy about gifting lingerie. The idea of someone my age getting frisky - even in a celestial marriage context - is something I'm not entirely sure I trust myself to be fun and friendly and not immature about.

However, in the course of returning said lingerie, I found a stranger I want whoever throws my bridal shower to track down and INVITE. Our conversation went as follows:

Me: "Hey, I need to return this." (awkwardly shoving the fistful of lacy nothingness back at her)

Her: "Oh, awesome! Were there any problems, catches in the fabric, or anything?"

Me: "No... No. We just found something else we liked better to give to her." (yeah, breath mints. Deodorant. ANYTHING.)

Her: "Oooooh. Was it for a bachelorette party?"

Me: "Yeah, actually, it was."

Her: "You know, I'm not from Utah, so it always weirds me out how girls come in here buying lingerie for... not themselves. For like their friends. They don't do that so much other places, but here it's like everyday. It's weird. And I mean, it's cute!" (gestures to the lacy nothingness)

Me: "So cute, right? But -"

Both of us: "Creepy."

Me: "It's probably because the majority of people in Utah aren't having sex until then."

Her: (laughing) "Yeah.. but I mean, I haven't had sex yet. But when I do, I want to be the one buying my lingerie. I don't want other people showing up and being like, I thought of you getting down in this. Here you go."

Me: "Meeee toooo. It's not okay."

Her: "Word up. I will never buy you lingerie."

I'm just saying that a lady's lady business, is not every lady's business.

Also, we had a good talk on my way out about black skinny pants. They flatter. Lingerie gives me the everlovin' willies. DON'T buy it for me. Bye. She was wonnnderful.

Hi, Atus.

2011-08-09T13:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've been on hiatus. Not the Saturday cartoon, kind of hiatus... You know, where they never come back. Because I am back.

Sooo. What have I been up to? You saw pictures of just a few things. Oh, just living my life and probably having the best summer of my life. Legitimately.

P.S. What would someone named Atus actually looked like? That's too close to Anus to be a real name. Also. They'd probably have the gout. Bye.

This Song.

2011-07-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

This song is beautiful, also. The lyrics please me so much! :) And so do you.

I don't mind your odd behavior
It's the very thing I love
If you were an ice cream flavor
You would be my favorite one

My imagination sees you
Like a painting by Van Gogh
Starry nights and bright sunflowers
Follow you where you may go

Oh, I've loved you from the start
In every single way
And more each passing day
You are brighter than the stars
Believe me when I say
It's not about your scars
It's all about your heart

You're a butterfly held captive
Small and safe in your cocoon
Go on you can take your time
Time is said to heal all wounds

Chorus

Like a lock without a key
Like a mystery without a clue
There is no me if I cannot have you

Chorus

"It's not about your scars. It's all about your heart."

Um. Yeah. :) Happy. Also, I'm off for my first week in primary. That's right! I got called to teach the Sunbeams (CTR 4!) for the next two months before I move down to school. Hahaha. Wish me luck! This is sure to be good blogging material, am I right?

Gems of Humanity.

2011-07-10T10:36:00.000-07:00

So... my first Real Salt Lake game? Yeah, I'd say it was a hit. :)

First, I tried to look bald. And I was extremely happy, and successful. And had lamb chops. (Don't talk to me about the fact that I can't grow facial hair. It's one of the biggest regrets in my life.)

I ran into Michelle Money from the Bachelor! When I saw her at first, it didn't register, but Ashleigh and Julie were fllllipping out. That was pretty delightful. :) Thanks, Michelle, for being willing to take a picture with us and for also accidentally(?) touching my bum? It made for a great story. Also, thanks for warning Ashley about Bentley, and thanks to Ashley for believing the best in people and NOT Michelle, and making train-wreck type TV for our enjoyment! We love you!
Look at these cuties. Ashleigh and Julie were on a date and Doug and Adam also were. :}
Cody isn't a zero, but I AM an Asian tourist. Kidddding. We're representing the score of the game, of course! 2-0 for Real! Woooh!
Hahahaha, perhaps something I watched just as much, if not more than the game, was the frequency of this advertisement:
And I read it in a pedophile voice. Bring your minors, to see OUR miners. :))))
It's free! They REALLY want you kids to come. HAhhahahahah. Oh come on. It's FUNNY. I am just a creep, okay! Accept it and you'll like this blog a lot more.

Thanks to Cody for the FREE tickets and for being a good date. And thanks to Ashleigh and Julie for being adorable, and for bringing dates. I had SUCH a good night!

My Yellow Room.

2011-07-09T13:55:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, I clean my room really, really well. And I even throw away a whole garbage bag full of clothes. I don't know what my deal is, but getting rid of clothes is a bit of a battle for me. It's not like all my knits and holey jeans are talking to me. It doesn't go that far. Depending on my mood, of course. But honestly. I cleaned out my drawers today, and I found so many items, reaching clear back to like seventh grade, that I could look at plainly and say, "I will never wear this again." but at the same time, I had such a hard time DI-ing. I'm sentimental, sue me. Anyway, I did it. Mostly. And my room feels much cleaner as a result, and I feel good. And also like I want to go shopping... which is besides the point.

Anyway, I don't have a ton to say, because I was blogging here today:

3 Cups of She

My sister Tori in California set up a blog for all three of us sisters to write on. Mostly because we're all buddies and all going to be living far away from each other in the very near future if we aren't already. Anyway. I think we're hilarious. So give it a click, even though it's in the fetus stage. And before you judge me for what you read, keep in mind that I've spent from 10-2 gutting my room and cleaning it to yellow perfection. So what if I gave up on personal hygiene. Soooo what?

Also, here's a glimpse of my cute yellow room.

And riddle me this, readers. How angry would my landlords be if I painted the inside of our entire apartment complex YELLOW? Because I feel like that'd just do everyone in college town a world of good. :)

Quote of the Day.

2011-07-08T21:40:00.000-07:00

At the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.

-Jean Houston

The Centaur Sighting.

2011-07-07T09:49:00.000-07:00

I'm such a rotten liar... here I am last post telling you I have no material, when in reality I saw a centaur last week. I just TOTALLY forgot. No, seriously. There I am, driving home from Cody's house, just passing my church. It's the perfect time of night - where the sky is mostly dark, but still just a little bit gold, you know? And the street lights have already come on, and the church parking lot is dimly lit.

WELL. I glance over. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but.... a CENTAUR.

I nearly ran my car off the road staring at that thing, just running across the church parking lot.

...It wasn't until I'd almost passed the entire parking lot and they were at the other end that I realized it was a lady running so perfectly angled and so in synch with her Great Dane that she had fooled me.

Listen. With Harry Potter so close, I choose to think that they just were a master of transfiguration. They don't know that I'm not your average muggle, right? They weren't sure if I'd be cool with it. But oh my word, Mr./Ms. Centaur. I am SO cool with it!!! I called Cody and was freaking happy that I had seen an almost centaur.

I also laughed like a creep for the rest of the way home, and the whole time while I got ready for bed. Best centaur sighting I've had to date! Sooo.

Some Crazy Dreams.

2011-07-06T09:36:00.000-07:00

To start out, I'll just say that I'm sorry I've been MIA. It's not for lack of time. Seriously, it's more just lack of subject manner. Yeah, I can see you out there. Rolling your eyes. Head in your hand. You'd rather saw your leg off with a butter-knife than read half the nonsense I've begun to blog. And I'll be honest... If it was something I had wanted to write, I would have still written it anyway. But I got so bored in the process that I thought we were all just better off spending our time in other ways.

HOWEVER. I had some dreams last night that were craaaazy. Side note: I kind of LOVE when people say, "crrrehh-zhey." You know, like they're wearing some stretchy pants and impersonating Nacho Libre. It's something I'm definitely not above.

Anyway, when I woke up from my slumber this morning, my immediate thought was, Finally. An end to the drought in Blogtown.

First of all... I dreamed I moved out. I'm not going to dwell on this one too much, because I'm honestly terrified, on a lot of levels. I promise you I'll post about that soon and deal with it through making it funny to myself... But anyway. In my dream I moved out on my birthday and people kept offering to buy me STEAKS. This could be due to the sweet fact that my father grilled me the finest piece of meat I've beheld for a long time last night, besides this guy:
Oh... I'm sorry, what? How did that...? Oh, nope. No. I'm gonna have to let this one slide. Deleting it would just be too much effort... Did anyone go see Thor? Hahahaha. I'm like uncomfortably laughing at myself, really hard right now. I'm not usually LIKE this, okay?! I just.. It was a surprisingly enjoyable movie. I usually really dislike movies of the whole, comic book nature, but it was seriously great. And it's not just because he was frolicking around like that half the movie. It was also because:

A) The special effects were the bomb.com, guys. I was like, HI. I'm freaking IN this movie.
B) It was more or less well-acted.
C) There were only TWO swear-words and while one of them is one of my least favorites, both are in the Bible, and one is in the background. Much obliged to you, screen writers.
D) No sex! Seriously, this is real. Even the hot super-powered, other-worldy warrior girl was dressed modestly and conducted herself in an appropriate fashion. No half-naked arrow-shooting to be had. And there was only one little goodbye kiss.

ANYWAY. Back to my dreams... Sorry. But I mean... at the same time. You're welcome.

So I'm all dreamin' and stuff, right? Moved out, bla bla bla. All the sudden I'm walking up the street to BORGIN AND BURKES. I know. What was I doing in Knockturn Alley? That's so unlike me. So me and whoever I was with... cause I honestly couldn't tell you, entered the shop. And oh my word. It was so much sketchier than I ever imagined it when I read the books. Except it was my dream, so it was my imagination, so...? I don't know. The floor was grimy, and it was really narrow, which for some reason made me really nervous. But seriously, the floor was like... covered in dead termites and sawdust. It was THAT type of feel. And I could feel the texture of it through my sneaks. And Borgin... or Burkes.... or whoever it was, came up from behind the high service counter (another thing that makes me feel weird. Why is your counter so blastedly high? What are you trying to hide from me back there?! I'm a TALL person. I should be able to see!!!) and honestly, he/she/it/whatever it was, had the weirdest face. Just wrinkly and off-color and the most grotesque voice was coming from up in there. I did NOT appreciate it.

Anyway, we were all like, "Oh, we're just going to head over and get in your cabinet, cool?" And he just like, scuffled off, so we hurried and got in, cause scuffling behind a high counter could either mean it was totally cool with him OR we were headed for him like, putting a wand to his dark mark and calling Voldemort. Yeah. Like it felt that urgent. So we all rushed into the different compartments of this cabinet, which was painted the most incredible, sunny yellow. Seriously. Put my cute room to shame.

So we all get in there and we're just waaaiting to be taken to the Room of Requirement when I realize, we're not going ANYWHERE. And there's a mirror at the back of this dumb closet thing and so I put my hand against it and it goes through. Like water. And so I push my whole body through, and when I get to the other side... Um, there's my companions. And there's another cabinet door shut on us. And I'm like, GREAT. This was never a traveling cabinet after all. It's just something Malfoy FUMBLED around in and imagined to be different locations. But then we pushed through the door, and we were totally in some big room. With like.... those huge bouncy slides. And a lot of adorable children.

So maybe a lot of witch and wizard babies needed a nursery during a Hogwarts parent teacher conference and the R.O.R. (Room of Requirement abbreviated. Pronounced RAWRRR, based on some of the activities that take place in there.) I tend to just think the wiring was off. Anyway, Voldemort was totally there, yelling at all of them. First I was freaked out, because his nose/slots things are SO much worse in person. But then I started to get really mad. Because all those babies were really cute. So I picked up a chubby, fuzzy-headed one and kissed it's head and yelled out an arm, and said, "Do your worst, you a-hole." Only I didn't say A-hole. Look, it's a dream. It wasn't a conscious decision, but it definitely added emphasis.

And he rushed at me, robe all a-flowing out behind him, wand raised. And he took a breath to say something, and I did that thing where you interrupt people every word they begin to say. I hope you know what I mean. And then when they stop, you stop. And when they start again, you interrupt again, with awkward noises that are almost-words. It's really irritating and something I'm VERY good at. Anyway, he got really frustrated, and he just stopped and made this face:

And was like. Really?
And then I woke up. But in my head that means I totally won. It was AWESOME.

Also, have I mentioned that I have tickets for an ADVANCED SCREENING of Harry Potter? Yeah. That's right. I'm going at 4:30 in the afternoon. I'm going to have a quaint dinner after, and I'm not going to be more of a psycho at work than usual, because I'll get a decent amount of sleep that night. :) But I'm still going all out! I can't decide who to dress up as... but suggestions would be much appreciated. I love you! Have a wonderful day. :)

Pictures that please me from this past week.

2011-06-29T13:21:00.001-07:00

Alliterations in the post title never hurt anyone. :)

A huge highlight of this past week for me was making tinfoil dinners and carrying all our supplies in a wagon up the shoreline trail. They were SO good, and it was such a good night. It was happy. Finally felt like summer. :)

I LOVE the smell of campfires. As a side note.

Glamour shots can be great for self-esteem. Trust me. This is my best shot.

We both found hats.

Don't worry. My shoes are the exact color of the ground. Cody said I looked like I was wearing a chameleon on each foot. Hahahah.

I got to babysit my cousin Bryndee's darling children.

Never in my life have I been so meticulously styled.

She's such a monkey. :)

Thanks, mom. I laughed out loud when I came home to this.

TELL me you have been to the new Harmon's in Farmington. HOLY COW. It is like the Seaworld of SAVOR. Make it a family outting and go. It's so much fun!! And it's the best gelato I've ever had - my sister Tori, who has lived in Italy, said it's the best gelato in Utah. So. If that's not enough, it's also the most affordable we've ever come accross. And... okay. I'm ready to say this. Pistachio gelato is from heaven. I always hounded on it... but. Don't knock it till you try it. It's beyond good! It just sounds weird. But you can really eat a lot of weird things and enjoy them. I mean. Think about it. What's the weirdest thing you ever ate? No.. seriously. I'm curous. So. If you read this, tell me.

Some Thoughts.

2011-06-29T12:05:00.000-07:00

So. I love my job - I really do. Teaching Arts and Crafts to little kids in the park? It is a prime time.

However, no amount of standing on the table or staring at the sun until your eyes water or making your body heave and shake is going to convince me to give you a different craft just because you want what someone else literally drew from a hat, child. Do you see the SIX other kids in your immediate vicinity with the same prize as you? Happily decorating said craft? Yeah. Yeah, it is kind of awkward that some parents are watching. Yes, I am talking calmly to you. By heaven, you are sticky. And your little face is so beautiful. Why must your behavior be so ugly? I must be honest with you, you cute little girl. I don't do tantrums. I also am irked by how ungrateful you are. Guess what my mom did when I was little and began whining for things at the grocery store? Calmly picked me up, left her half-full cart in the aisle, and carried me to the car. And we went home. Except I have no car to put you in while we abandon your half-done craft. And even if I did, it'd be mighty illegal. But just know this. You are a cutie. But I'm not a push-over, and no matter how much I love you - and especially because I DO love you, I will NOT give you what you want. I'm not here to parent you, but I'm also not here to cater to every kid who cries over wanting something better. If I did that, I'd have 30 crazed children mobbing me each hour until they were perfectly happy (which would never happen). K thanks, bye.

It's been a long, hot day. :)

Each class takes a different amount of time to do the crafts or to calm down enough to the point that they won't main one another or run off towards the creek in the park (which is running SO high because of run-off), so basically you just gotta come in with guns blazing and pocket full of ideas. And mostly, my job makes me ridiculously happy, occasional bratty children aside. I can't even dislike them because I know it's not entirely their fault. Someone at home is letting them get away with that... Not my mama. She raised me right!

Anyway, with one of our classes, to kill time, we had them trace the outline of their hand onto a paper and write their name in the palm, and five things that are making them happy right now - one in each finger. Well, mostly, they're all delightful, but there's a little girl named Rachel, who I love especially. She can't say her R's (nature is a cruel beast, no?) and she always looks like a tiny freckled turtle, with her skinny neck poking awkwardly out of her Polo's that are buttoned ALLL the way to the top. Gosh, I ADORE her. Anyway, I'm mildly heartbroken because she's missing our last class Friday for a chess tournament. That's right. She's one of those child chess prodigies. COULD SHE GET ANY CUTER? Well. She's about to, because here is what she said when it was her turn to share.

"Hewe I wote my name, Wachel, and I like Awts and Cwafts Class, the letter AW (R), and pointing."

And then she was done. And I was dying. Sometimes I like pointing to0, girlfriend. And I like a girl who's honest about that. Also, I guess she only has three fingers. Which is just fine by me.

P.s. I guess breastfeeding in the park is fine now. Seen at least three moms enjoying the sunny weather and feeding their young. So. Thanksss for that, mamas.

This Is What High School With Me Was Like.

2011-06-25T12:05:00.001-07:00

CAUTION: If you are easily offended, or have not already embraced that although I am fully religious and a generally wholesome person deep down, I am HIGHLY inappropriate, do not read on.

That being said, today as I was cleaning my room, I found many an offensive doodle, but this list was perhaps my favorite.

Keep in mind that I love this teacher, although she was legitimately CRAZY and very hard to take a class from with all the weird assignments she was throwing at me. It was so hard not to blog her every move. Luckily, my busy life kept me from doing so.

So one day in class, after spending three hours with the woman, she was telling us to be prepared when we want something, with a list of reasons why, so we're not just fumbling. It's easier to say no to someone who is unprepared and unmotivated and unorganized. This is a truth she taught me. However, in her example story, she told of asking for a piece of technology from the district, despite it being ridiculously expensive and possibly frivilous.

So, in my boredom, I began to wonder what she'd put on the list.

I wrote the first reason I would guess, based on her daily overshare dialogue, and I passed it to my friend - who has lived down the street from me the past ten years. She knows me. She didn't question. She simply supplied the next reason. This went on, until her reason number eight made me laugh so hard with its accuracy that it just had to stop.

You probably have no idea what we're talking about, but trust me. If you had ever encountered this woman, you would love this right now.

Reason #1: To receive racy videos from my husband. . . =D

#2: So I can pretend to not receive students' assignments, wherever I am. . .

#3: To more quickly BLOCK ___ ______ from my personal life.

(I wrote a student who shall remain nameless, but essentially STALKED said teacher in so many ways that it was not okay, not even for kissing up for a good grade, and also... commented on literally EVERYTHING ever said. I wish I was exaggerating.)

#4: To search and effectively learn how American sayings are actually said.

(Riley wrote this after one of many incidents like this - she told us we were looking at her like "deer with headlights." Nope. That's not even... especially at my house. Headlights means RT. Sorry. I had to say it. Mom. You KNOW you're laughing.)

#5: To wig shop anonymously.

(I don't even want to explain this one, but it correlates with both numbers 1 and 8. :/ Awful. Scarred. For. Life. Hahahah. So wonderful.)

#6: To get rid of the voices in my head.

#7: To figure out still more pointless/irrelevent metaphors/sexist comments I'll direct at myself.

(Oh yes. She did. And it drove me crazy. No, no. YOU are a woman. Stop. Do you know what you're saying?)

#8: To find even more creative ways to tie my sex life in with my lessons.

....

And that's where I lost it. My friend had just hit it right on the head, the most awkward/awesome part of that class we'd been dancing around.

Like I said. Loved the class, loved the woman, looks great on a resume... but holy crap. So lucky I'm still functioning okay after some of the educators I had in my twelve years of public schooling. It makes me grateful for people who are occasionally scary or inappropriate, but in all the right ways - like my daddy or Andra.

Anyway... Just know that lists like that were how I made it through high school. Also, I once made an album called, "SENIORITUS" A chronic condition." And it was kind of awesome. It made me happy. :) There will be more years of school, more crazy professors, and still more albums to be made. But. This list was worth mentioning.

Also, why that picture? I don't know, friends. It came up when I googled "wig shop anonymously." So. Also, it could be an accurate depiction of what high school with me was like. Have a nice day. This is what high school with me was like. I can only imagine college, when I shall have my actual laptop in class with me. What gems will then emerge? Only time will tell.

I Often Wonder.

2011-06-20T15:53:00.001-07:00

Guy Fieri.

Anne Burrell.

Are they really two different people?

And... if they ARE. Is there just something in the water at Food Network or something in your contract that says you have to do that to your hair/skin?

Food (pun-intended) for thought.

Happy Father's Day!

2011-06-19T17:51:00.000-07:00

Here are some things I'm really enjoying lately:

-Comments on my blog. Call me vain, but it's such a wonderful feeling to hear from you people out there. You're neeeeat.

-Work. I love it. I'll have to do a post this week and remember all the funny things those children say and do. Arts and crafts in the park really brings out the best in people, is all I can say. :)

-The fact that the world isn't ending! We talked about this in Sunday School today. Hahaha, I used to get all panicky everytime there was one of those lessons, like SWEET SUNDAY, LET ME LIVE. But now it's sort of amusing when people predict the world ending, which is pretty much EVERY MONTH now since it's 2012. Which is... GASP! When the Mayan calendar ends. My thinking is... they probably just ran out of stone or got so flipping tired of carving. Can you imagine carving THAT many years into the future from when you are alive? I'm pretty sure I'd hit a point where I'd be like, All right, guys. All right. None of us are going to be alive by then. NONE of us. Not even our babys' babys' babys'. Sooo. Let's go make a human sacrifice or something, already, am I right?! However, my friend Manda suggested that the Mayans probably asked their kids to continue it and they dropped the ball. This is, I think, also very plausible.

-There is an old couple in my ward, named the Humbles, who are both old and white haired, and every week when I look over in sacrament, whether they are awake or not, they are steadily holding hands. I love that.

-Everytime I creep on my cousin Kim's blog about her preschool, I get really excited about the fact that that will be me someday. :) I am going to be so happy being a teacher. G'head. Give it a gander: Sunshine Preschool. She's absolutely AMAZING. No big deal! I look up to her so much.

-On the subject of boys today:

Mom: "You could do worse."

Me: "And I have!"

(we both proceed to laugh awkwardly hard during sacrament meeting. Oh... I mean, what? Yes, sister, your talk is sooo funny...? )

-And finally, my DADDY. I am probably the luckiest person alive. My dad is the only man in an all-girl house, and there couldn't be a better guy for the job. He is one my best friends, and I love going places with him. We both love burgers to the max, and sometimes he lets me cry and gives me good advice. He holds the priesthood and wants to help me with anything I need. He's a little gruff, but only because he doesn't want you to see how ridiculously tender he is. My sister Tori got married yesterday, and he was crying so hard through her wedding video that it made me absolutely fall apart. He is an amazing man, and I know he wants the world for each of us. I'll always appreciate how important my being an educated, well-rounded person is to him.

Also, we can make eye contact when we're around special people, and he just says, "HhhoookkKKKAY" and we laugh for a long time. Or he sings, "aaawwwkwaard" and I really like it. And when people cut him off, he says, "WHAT'S THIS CAT DOING?!!!" and it's so funny that I start to secretly hope people do. Not really, but I mean. Kind of. He is so intelligent and has an amazing work ethic. Also, over dinner the other night, my sister joked about having a happy trail, and my dad was like, "It's a Mormon Trail." And we were like... "Dad. What?" And he was like, "You know, cause it leads to the Promised Land." And I laughed for at least 20 minutes after. He is HILARIOUS. Also, whenever something is shady, he calls it, "low-budget." Regardless of how much money was involved. And he understands art, and me, and we like going for drives and doing things together.

I LOVE my dad. Happy Father's Day! You're the best one I could've gotten and a daily reminder that Heavenly Father knows who I am and wants me to be happy. Love you, daddy. :)

We'll be best buddies forever, dude.

Sorry I always wore your clothes... And sorry I still do. :) I enjoy you, dad.

How To Breathe.

2011-06-19T17:18:00.000-07:00

So, during high school, that not-so-long ago three years of my life, I participated in theatre. And while I was there, I learned to breathe. I know that sounds super cliche or whatever, but it's exactly what you think. It's sentimental, and literal. I feel like I got free therapy the past two years of my life in Advanced Theatre, and I learned how to breathe - which is something I'll take with me my whole life. Being able to breathe with something or someone, and breathe through something, changes how you handle the entire situation. It opens you. I could try to explain it, but it would honestly take forever.

It's called Fitmaurice Voicework. It's incredible. Our lovely voice coach Bonnie, has a blog about it. It tells you about the performing arts aspect of it, but I hope you'll pick up on the benefits of it on a personal level. You could never go onstage or perform in your life, and this work would help you and change you. Click HERE to look at Bonnie's blog. She's pretty much a wonderwoman.

Anyway, as I said, I could spend all day trying to help you understand, but that's not what I want this entry to be about. I had to run back to the theatre room last week to grab a couple things I forgot at the end of the week, and I wrote a poem about it. After re-reading the sequel to Stargirl this weekend, I have realized I don't write poetry half enough. This is a first-draft, rough sort of poem, but it felt happy to write. It was a bit of a challenge for me to let go and trust myself to write poetry again, but... thanks to this voicework, I've learned to let go. Kinda cool, eh? So, I just rambled until I felt done.

So here goes nothing:

In,

And out.

A rhythm anyone can keep.

Inhale,

Exhale.

Inhale,

exhale.

Carrying me.

It carried us.

It will carry me through.

Inhale, exhale.

Taking,

then I give.

Giving when

I am full.

Inhale,

exhale,

as a class,

as a people,

as a universe.

Years and years, with people who are

In,

And out.

Entrances,

And exits.

Your name and then,

"Will you be with me?"

A risk,

but you trust.

Averted eyes,

And humming hearts.

They all are

With you,

who are with me.

Today, I went back.

No scripts, no lines, no stage directions

to tie me here.

No classes to hide from,

no papers to type.

Just items forgotten.

A hat, two pairs of pants,

boots laced with memories,

and old assignments

that echo contexts past.

I wait.

Hardly breathing.

I wait for the hurt.

No inhale,

no exhale.

But this betrays what

I've learned.

So it comes in a rush.

Inhale,

and exhale.

No hurt, no ache.

Inhale again,

exhale again.

Memories now,

thousands of infinitesimal moments.

There was hurt, yes, fear,

but the memory alone

Is healing.

To remember.

Inhale,

and exhale.

Buoying up,

letting go.

Inhale,

and exhale.

Thank you,

I think to the empty,

but cluttered,

room.

In a drafty room,

perhaps it is chance.

But it comes. As tangible as an on-purpose

Inhale,

and loving exhale.

I am with you.

I smile back, goosebumps rising.

So it is.

In,

And out.

I will be again.

Indie-Fresh!

2011-06-15T22:36:00.000-07:00

So, tonight I attended a concert in Provo. Let me start by saying that for the first time in a long time, I have an overdue facial sunburn. THANK THE SWEET HEAVENS. Fact, friends. There is nothing nicer than getting a little sunburned on your face. Because you know why? The next morning, and possibly even that very night, if you crisp yourself just right (I know, I sound like an advertisement for skin cancer. :/) you have the most even skin tone for just a minute. It's reeeeal nice. You need minimal to no makeup... not to mention the fact that it means you enjoyed some quality time with Mr. Sun.

So... Besides the fact that I'm feeling foxy in my sunburn, I also was feeling foxy in my outfit. And you know what, I'm here to tell you that that is kind of an awesome feeling. I liked how it came together as well. Hahaha, my sister Tori literally took the shirt off her back and placed it on my body, and the shorts I planned on wearing weren't dry, so I got to bust out my white bermudas. Which are a happy, cropped-and-cuffed memory of a little show I once did called The Yellow Boat. Anyway, on top of all that, I wore my favorite nasty sweater vest from ...Savers, I want to say? It may or may not have been worn by my friend Kevin in our school musical, Curtains. Good sweaters that go around, come around.

So, listen. I don't dress to impress - although I sometimes enjoy reading fashion blogs, they sadly haven't rubbed off on me. Sorry, guys. You're still worth the creeping every few days. But I thought I was hilarious and took the following awkward picture on my webcam:

My pose was mocking various fashion bloggers.... but then I awkwardly cropped my head out and laughed at myself for a long time. And NO, that's not a promise ring or an engagement ring... it's my goll-durn CTR ring. And it just fits best on that finger...? I don't know why my ring fingers aren't the same size on each hand. Just... oh my gosh. It's FINE, guys. Let's move on.

So after a nice drive to Provo, a trip to J-Dawgs (at which I didn't get anything but water.. I HAD A LATE LUNCH AND AN UPSET TUMMY, I didn't wanna be all farty and bloaty at the concert, people), Cody and I walk back into this backyard after much time spent searching for this concert. The only way we found it was trendy type people disappearing into a backyard with laughter and the sound of tuning instruments.

I must tell you, although I often find myself saying, "awkward..." and making an uncomfortable face or making the situation somehow more awkward, usually I'm pretty comfortable. This was the exception. If I hadn't been with Cody, it might have been a place that really would've been awkward. I think it's just a rule of thumb that anywhere scary or unfamiliar is almost automatically handle-able (how many words can I make up this post?) when you are with someone who is safe and familiar. I like that. Having best friends is something nice. :)

But I just want to tell you... this place was like a whole other COUNTRY. I'm not just talking trendy girls, in like some skinny jeans and floral tops. We're talking people with their hair tied in KNOTS, and orange lipstick - not coral, not salmon, ORANGE. My sister Brittany, a big fan of lip color, would have been appalled at the complete disregard for skin tone when that girl woke up and thought she'd tape some orange peels to her lips or something. There were girls in high-waisted pencil skirts that... I am sorry.. just shouldn't have been. If you're comfortable with your body, more power to you! Beauty isn't a size. But good, sweet, MERCY. If there is more fabric in your skirt above your bum than below it, I'mma go ahead and downgrade you from trendy to trashy.

I just... I have a hard time believing that some people dress like that on a regular basis. Like girls with lovely, lovely hair and flawless faces... who rat the front of their hair into a nest to make a statement with like dirty barettes and mom jeans cut off into daisy dukes paired with military boots. I'm sorry, I just have a really hard time picturing people dressing like that on a daily basis. There's trendy and cute and unique and then there's people who I almost think are trying so hard to make a statement and not be called skanky that they're all but NAKED, but since their clothes are so unique you can't technically call them a skank because they're being "fashionable" and "creative." But it's like. Hello, people. You can look awesome and not be fully naked. Examples? Let's reference said fashion blogs I creep on.

Lauren and Sydney.
Both are LDS girls who wear garments - which tend to limit what you can wear, and although I don't always LOVE what they wear, a lot of the time, I do. They're creative without being naked and crazy. They still look GOOD, people. Oh man. I honestly felt like I was in a whole other country. I felt like a boring prude in my DI sweater vest! And perhaps I am.

Maybe the moral of this blog post should be that I'm not "trendy." I wear what I like, and I like what I wear, and I keep my lady parts covered. That's all I ask of people. They were all beautiful girls! I just... had to wonder where I was, and WHY. Why would you do that? Hahahaha, it was hilarious and awesome, and kind of an assault on my senses.

And just when I thought it couldn't get anymore indie-fresh... This girl pulled out an albino ferret on an apparently vintage leash.... Wait, what? Yes. You heard me right.

So. That was kind of awesome, except when she handed it up to someone sitting on the roof and I swear to you it was going to drop on my head at any given second. In my head it probably owned fake eyeglasses and a fedora back at home. It just kept rompin' around the yard, wreaking all kinds of havoc.

Probably was named after some obscure, deceased artist as well. It. Was. Awesome.

And speaking of artists... the people who played were AWESOME! There was this guy named Cody Taylor who had so much emotion, and also awesome facials as he sang. I highly suggest you look him up. And then this band called Archer's Apple, I think? And finally, the band we came for, Timber.

They were so impressive! Honestly, it was gorgeous. My favorite song is probably this one:

Oh my. Can you believe them? Sooo good. I LOVE the girl's voice especially. I guess they were all freshmen at BYU last year together, in Merrill Hall, I would guess, since they thanked them on their album? Anyway, besides the fact that I know she will love this, I'm also predicting that, since she sings like an angel, my friend Marissa will be in some fabulous band like this and go touring the summer after her freshman year.

And who knows? Maybe she'll be down for buying an albino ferret with me. You can never be too indie-fresh. :)))

Quote of the Day.

2011-06-12T11:51:00.000-07:00

Whilst driving home from my friend Adam's farewell today, I was talking to my friend Maddy. We were talking about how we feel more like ourselves in the summer, just because the stress of school is gone, and we're really in our element. Not carrying around backpacks - metaphorical and literal - of hellish stress.

Welp.

It made me think of how ridiculously happy I've felt this week. I'm always pretty good, but this week was almost unreal. I loved everyday. And randomly, I thought of a passage I read yesterday in one of my oldest, most favorite books - Beauty, by Robin McKinley. (I have a whole post about this book in the drafts, friends, but Blogger just went and DELETED the whole thing and now I have to write a new one sometime. THANKS, Blogger. Thankkks. So.) Anyway. I read this yesterday, and it was one of those Twilight Zone moments where I was looking around my room... wondering if Robin McKinley had travelled to the future and written about me. I wanted to check outside for vehicles with flux capacitors that could've been her's in 1978 when she wrote the book.

And, guys, I'm totally not one of those girls who's like, "OMG! OMG! LOL! I AM this character. I AM that actress, that person is ME!!!!" Cause, come on, that's ANNOYING. I'm just saying, I read this yesterday, and my cute mom and I were like, hahahaha, wait. What?! It was startling how similar it was to me. Soo. Here's the quote I thought of today, that I liked. It's just good writing!

"I leaned closer, fascinated. No, there, it was I, after all:

The quirk of the eyebrows was still there, the dark uneven arch that had always said that the eyes ididn't believe what they saw; but then since I had only seen them in mirrors, perhaps this was true. And I recognized the high wide cheekbones, but my face had filled out around them; and the mouth was still higher on one side than the other, and the high side had a dimple."

Enjoy the awkward angle. And my pretty yellow room. I'm just happy!! And I like that book, and I like that there are other people out there (even in fiction-land) that have horribly uneven brows and lopsided mouths that make them, them. :)

And no, I didn't shower. I can feel you questioning. Headbands are one great thing about life. Can I get an amen?! Byyye. Have a lovely Sabbath!