Oh Martha! Oh Christmas!

Happy post holidays y'all.

The most wonderful time of the year is over. ;) I hope you're all drowning in introspection and self loathing so you can make your New Years resolutions. I am kidding bytheway

I love the holidays. Well, I love the build up to Christmas anyway. I love the whirlwind of preparations and decorations. Present wrapping is a bust, as I still don't understand how to get smooth corners. I'm a lost cause in the wrapping department. But I do it with heart and slap ribbons on with gusto to make up for it. I love Christmas music, so long as it is rather classic and has nothing to do with kissing Santa Claus or is sung by a boy band. I fret my days of enjoying boy bands openly are over, and any affection I harbor for One Direction only gets creepier as the years pass by.
I loooooove people posting pictures of their crying children on Santa's lap.Is that bad? I love watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Both versions if you must know. There's a certain lovable quality to the cartoon version though, I think it's the Grinch's poochy cartoon belly.
I only support the old version of Miracle on 34th street. The version with the girl who played Matilda is far too precocious for me. Natalie Wood all the way if you know what I mean.
I love Christmas lights-except for my neighbors naughty Santa in the tub- I pray for hooligans to steal it every year. And thus far, I have not proven righteous enough for that to come true.
I have rather mixed feelings on Christmas treats. You know what I mean, when all your neighbors bring various cookies and candies and goodies with a holiday note on them? Unless that's mostly a Southern Utah thing, then maybe you don't know what I mean. When the treats first start getting delivered, I feel nothing but gracious feelings. People who bring you chocolate are my kinda folks. But as time goes on, and the pile of treats grows, I find myself growing resentful. Get this crap out of my house! I'm sick of it! Every ding of the doorbell represents another plate to be added to the pile. All I want is for just one kind soul to deliver a salad. Not because there aren't vegetables in the house, just because it'd be refreshing.

But let's talk about snow. Rather rudely it held out on us until the last possible second, meaning there was no satisfaction in listening to White Christmas, and what a travesty that is! Take heart, there is *almost* always snow in the mountains. The twins and I took quite an enjoyable trip up Cedar mountain to feel the winter wonderland aesthetic. Snowy mountain scenes make me feel all heart emoji inside, lest you wonder my feelings on that.

We had our Christmas Eve dinner, which almost always includes some kind of beef. Are you even surprised, considering we run cattle? ;) This year it was steak, with a dessert of steak-if you ask my father anyhow.
We read Luke 2, as per usual. But, I've grown rather accustomed to hearing it in a booming Grandpa Wallace voice I wonder if anything will ever measure up.

When, do you suppose, I stopped owning real pajamas? I never realize my lack of cutesy sleepwear until Christmas. Additionally, how silly is it to receive the Harry Potter series for Christmas as a 20 year old? I mean I'm only, what 8 or more years behind on that trend haha. I was sooo convinced as the books were coming out when I was a kid that I wouldn't like them, that I didn't read them. And then they became so wildly popular that I refused to, in a ridiculous hipster/pious/holier than thou fashion.
But, I finally have read them, and liked them waaaaay more than is probably appropriate. I am a Ravenclaw according to some internet quiz, which is nifty. I can ramble and wax non-eloquently about these dang books for probably ever, it's honestly concerning. Sign of a pre-quarter life crisis? Or a pre-quarter revelation? I'll spare you my manifesto of feelings, suffice it to say, Snape is my absolute favorite character, and I find myself giving Dumbledore serious side-eye pretty much always. So there is that.

Better than teenage wizards, I got a vintage set of children's books from the antique shop. Goooorrgeous illustrations! I think what I love the very best about vintage books,besides their lovable musty smell, is when you come across signs of the previous owner. There's some childish scribbles on a few pages and an elegant scroll of an adult on the front cover. Best of all, there was a verrry old bridal shower invitation inside Alice in Wonderland. Just tucked in the pages years ago and forgotten. I love that.
We will not discuss how many watches I got. Because I do not have an addiction. And that is all I want to say about that.
-And technically it wasn't a Christmas present, but my Aunt Cherene gave me a 1932 Nancy Drew book. I mean, could you just die? It's absolutely darling! Everyone should have an Aunt Cherene I think-

We're rambling now.

I think I was born stubborn. I think I came to this earth with an agenda of getting my way with an iron-will hellbent on getting things I wanted. You know, I was born early, right? I bet I pulled all that nonsense on my mother on purpose. Probably volunteered in the pre-mortal existence to have colic too. Just for spite.
I didn't let anyone teach me how to ride a bike. Nope, I wasn't going to be taking part in any bit of the perfect picture of parent and child learning the milestone of bike riding. None of that easy route for me! I learned how to ride a bike by myself. When I was good and ready. And, yeah, good and ready for me was later than the other kids my age. But the end result was I could ride a bike like everybody else. I bet I could still ride a bike, if I really wanted to. And had a bike. And a place to ride it.

I didn't let anyone pull my teeth either. When my baby teeth started getting loose and ready to be pulled out, I wouldn't let anyone touch them. Those nasty things stuck in my mouth by a thread far far longer than they should've because I didn't want anyone to pull them. They either fell out from sheer exhaustion from holding on, or I pulled them myself. Based on the rankings of my elementary class, I was always one of the last to loose teeth. -Although, really why small children are fascinated in discussing what teeth they have and don't have is beyond me-

Many, many jokes have been made, solely by me, that my parents had nothing to worry about where I was concerned for the first 2 years of high school because I was so odd looking. That's not a pity statement or fishing for compliments. I was just in every sense odd. I didn't get how to dress well or put myself together. Which, is pretty weird considering I have all sisters. But, regardless, I didn't figure out that whole deal until I was like a junior in high school.
And maybe it was the fact that I was super awkward looking, but I didn't jump on the dating train when everyone else did either. Even once I emerged from the weird stage, I was still determined not to be one of those high school girls that gave up everything to have a boyfriend.just because I didn't want to be like everyone else.

I've never noticed the recurring theme in my 20 years of living. I'm a late bloomer. Whether that's because of my own stubbornness or genuinely how things work out for me, I don't know. It's not important I suppose.

With that in mind, it shouldn't bother me that I'm 'behind' by traditional standards in my education. But it does. Deeply. I think it's because the primary label I've been subjected to my whole life is 'smart'. That's not a bad label by any means. But, it's a heavy one. It's a label that has driven my goals and direction with an intensity I don't have in any other area of my life. It's a label of high expectations and anticipated success. That's why it has hurt so profoundly to not reach those expectations.
I could not have been more thrilled, and elated to be accepted to SUU. The feeling of moving forward and getting back into a 'normal' environment is indescribable. The process of being accepted took so long and was so frustrating, because I had to defend my right to be there, to say I really was a good student despite the irregularities of my academic history.
It kind of hurts to move into new educational endeavors without the 'smart' label.I hate to say it, but there's a difference in how you're perceived with or without that label.  It's hard for me to accept that a good majority of the adults my age will graduate much faster than me.

It's humbling. Honest to goodness bring you to your knees humbling, to let go of that label and expectation, and plainly pride.
It offends my prideful sensibilities to know I have to be a late bloomer in this area of my life. Because, for once, it's not by my own choice. No matter how stubborn I hold on what I want, I can't change it or twist it to get my way.
I know, the end result will be just the same as everyone elses, even if it is much later.
I get that I can still have what I want, it's a matter of accepting I have to do it differently than others, and differently than what I would like.
And, yeah, I can see how this has given me new perspective and taught me a lot. You don't know how badly you want something, until you can't have it. I've heard so many of my friends complain how much they hate school. How they're not really taking it seriously. How it feels like a waste of time. And I would be lying if I said it didn't offend me. Because I couldn't imagine not absolutely appreciating the privilege of seeking higher education. And maybe, they couldn't imagine the anguish of wanting it, and not getting to have it.
I remember the perky little 17 senior Erin, with multicolored hair and a perpetual bad attitude-as is the way with teenagers- getting accepted into every school I applied for was nice, but not a big deal. It pains me to admit it, but I applied to schools with the absolute confidence I would be accepted. It would've floored me to be rejected. I didn't appreciate my acceptance letters. I expected them. Flat out I felt entitled to have my pick of universities. Those acceptance letters meant nothing to me.
And now, 20 year old Erin, with boring one colored hair, and only a slightly perpetual bad attitude, cried when a school I all but turned my nose up at before accepted me. Heck, I cried every step of the application process. All but sobbed when I had to write a letter to an academic board explaining and documenting my depression and anxiety. Not because I was sad-although there is an aspect of that- because I was so incredibly grateful to even get to apply at all.
Perhaps, that's why sometimes we are asked to wait for things we really want. Perhaps it's the pain of waiting that solidifies what we want, and gives us the maturity to truly appreciate it when we get it.
I think I can honestly say, I comprehend the concept of people moving at their own pace. There really isn't a right or wrong timeline to accomplish anything in life. Good things come to those who don't wait sometimes. Good things come to those who do wait sometimes. It's all relative. Eventually it balances out.

Poppin' tags

Sometimes blogging is a little bit hard, because it feels like such a 'me! me! me!'fest. I mean, not that I don't love it, I just feel narcissistic at times. 

I guess we could begin by talking about the important and real issues that are going on in my life. I mean, that would be the honest and probably mature thing to do. But ignoring important things that make us uncomfortable is the American way. And, I am a American through and through.

So, instead let's talk about thrifting. -again cuz I kinda talked about it last time I blogged-
I went to the Antique shop on Main street in Cedar City this Friday. I've driven past it, oh I don't know a hundred times, and never noticed it. My mother, is the one who took me and opened my eyes to this stellar shop. If it seems like we go thrifting all the time together, let me assure you, it's probably mostly coincidental that I'm blogging about it two time in a row. Plus, last time it was a thrift shop, which I am convinced is different from an antique shop.
See, a thrift shop, is full of a lot of sketchy old stuff and smells like midlife crisis. But an antique shop is full of sketchy old stuff that's been cleaned up a little and smells like much less of a midlife crisis. Either way though, they're fantastic.

Did you say you wanted to see really poor quality cell phone pictures in really bad lighting?  That happens to be one of my main talents, except for knowing how to sing the werewolf bar-mitzvah song from 30 rock. Some talents are best kept to ourselves though I guess.

Books are some of the best parts of thrifting. They reek of mothballs and possibility, two things I find to be highly rad.
Also, that light red set? I would absolutely die to own them. Although there was a Jack London that really called my name too

The wardrobe to Narnia. Or something

It takes great restraint not to buy old pillbox hats and kid gloves. Think how snazzy I could look at church?
The mind reels with the sheer possibilities.

Does you heart go pitter patter when you see old china hutches? They're heavy and bulky and so darn lovable.

Are you in love? This is the exact moment I fell in love. L-O-V-E people. Just *sigh* perfection.

Old trunks seem to be staples at antique shops. While I lust after them whole-heartedly, I don't actually know what you'd do with them. Besides hide dead bodies of course.

It is mandatory, and I do mean mandatory, to peruse through any turquoise jewelry whilst thrifting.
I  have recurring dreams of finding that one special turquoise cuff bracelet you know. 

Not pictured from this antiquing adventure is the really fantastic old lady watch I scored. It's everything I never knew I needed. Pearl face, square, kinda smells like cigarette smoke, the whole package deal! I'm probably going to go back this week. I really don't think I can live without all , an unreasonable amount, some, one (or two) of those old books. 

On a completely unrelated note, I bought a typewriter on Etsy. Etsy is like virtual thrift shopping, or just an online craft fair. I am a big fan of Etsy.
Essentially, I blatantly ignored the fact that I'm 20 years old, very poor and supposed to be scrimping all of my pennies to pay for my education and bought this beautiful thing. I've always had a thing for typewriters, you just can't beat the loud click clacks produced from typing on them. It's a late 60s, early 70s manual model, and it's positively charming. Initially, there was some trouble getting it to work and figuring it all out, but it's up and running beautifully now.
 You can expect I'll write the next great American novel on this bad boy, like Hemingway, minus the alcoholism. Or, it may just be a really good decor item. I like to keep my possibilities open. 

Hello November

Did you notice it's November? I'm quite alright with you November, even though you get pigeon-holed and marginalized into being a glutenous gorge fest. I know you better November, I won't let that one Thursday define you, ok? Ok.

My only real concern with the change of months is I forgot to watch 'It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown!'.Which is very sad indeed. Clearly I know nothing of sincerity. What was I thinking? Charlie Brown defines holidays, if there isn't a Charlie Brown special about it, is it really a holiday worth acknowledging? -I'm lookin at you Black Friday, you charlatan-
I know about gratitude because of Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving. And the heartbreak of not getting Valentines? Covered by a sad boy in a hipster chic chevron shirt who oddly inspires me.

However back to the point. I'm very disappointed in myself. I only hope The Great Pumpkin is an understanding sort of fellow.

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Have you ever read Kerouac? Until recently, I must confess, I was largely ignorant to Jack Kerouac. Quite sad to be ignorant of someone who has such a lovely and oddly romantic kind of name.
Sometimes I just get struck with the idea in my head that I absolutely must read a certain book. Like when I was moved by some dystopian feminist spirit to read Margaret Atwood. And I tell you I was not disappointed by my literary intuition. Or when some romantic swain leaped up out of nowhere and made me read Hemingway and Fitzgerald. I'm not even sure why Kerouac, or where I got the notion I must become acquainted with him. But under the influence some disillusioned beatnik within my psyche, I read 'On the Road' by Jack Kerouac. -Doesn't that just roll off your tongue in the most satisfying way?-

It was good. I felt very soul searchy and pondery as I read it, which occasionally is a very good thing indeed. I suspect the connection to the story is being a restless 20 something that doesn't quite know what they want, only knows they want more from life.
Probably if I were a more sensible and in a more concrete stage of life I would find it wishy washy and silly.
However, if Jack had asked me, and he didn't on account he is very dead, I would tell him the general disregard and apathy towards women in the book did not sit well in me. Or did Margaret Atwood tell me to say that? Never mind.

---

Today was spent with that cool cat Connie, thrift shopping and window shopping/browsing aimlessly. I can't quite put my finger on why it is I like thrift stores so much. Maybe it's the sketchy people who run them? Maybe it's the overwhelming scent of musk and cigarettes in the air? Maybe because it solidifes that deep inside, I'm an old lady. Yup that's it. Bring me your amber glass light fixtures circa 1960! Bring me your milkglass! Bring me your melamine dinnerware, daisy pattern please! Bring me your shag carpet rugs! Bring me your dark stained vanities!Tea sets and creepy figurines? Bring 'em over! And be a doll and throw in some doilies and nic-nacs as well.
I'd like to say I have classy taste in home decor. That someday my home would look like a Pinterest dream. But that's just not the life for me. It's much more likely you'll someday walk into my home and think it belongs to a 102 year old lady. I'm a thrift shop lady. I'll wear your grand-dad's clothes, and I'll look incredible.
There were a few finds in the thrift store that caught my eye and tempted me sorely. Hello, brown leather armchair, do you wanna party at my house? What's that amber glass swag lamp, you wanna be my friend?

Not the real ones obviously, just to give ya an idea. Drool as you feel right in your heart.

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On a somewhat less positive note, registering for school is a pain in the b-u-t-t. Well, it probably shouldn't be under normal circumstances. But it seems like all the ways for things to get bogged down and delayed have happened so far. If I thought I had kicked my cussing habit beforehand, I think it's safe to say I found it again in this whole process. After chasing down two transcripts from two different universities, which involved being on the phone far too long with both their registrars offices (Linda baby, I feel like we're best friends after that hour on the phone) (Sorry I was so curt on the phone Steve. but let's get real you weren't exactly a dreamboat to work with either)I'm still not even done with the whole process. I am finding out that the circumstances to me leaving college in the first place have made coming back quite an ordeal. If you can possibly avoid the diagnoses of a mental illness your freshman year, I highly recommend it. 

However, I have perfectly good faith, it'll all work out. There may be some cussing involved and a chance of tears shed, but it'll come together. Eventually. Maybe. I hope. 

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Don't you just love the crisper days of Autumn? You know, the ones that are just cold enough your cheeks feel a little bit rosier when you come inside. It's the kinda weather that makes you break out your scarves and boots. I love the crisper days, where the sky is absolutely clear and the sun is shining. It's the perfect blend of warm sun and cool air on your skin. 

It's the sort of weather that demands warm soup and fresh rolls! 

(Also no shave November, bring on the bearded beauties!)

Various thought blurbs

Before anyone gets too worked up, let me assure you, blurb is in fact a word. I checked. Twice.

Blurb is actually a noun that means a short description that praises something..usually it's a short advertisement. (don't tell me you never learned anything from my blog. Because, hello, I just taught you a word today)
Now if we're gonna get right down to the nitty gritty-to be read in a Nacho Libre voice-technically every blurb I'm going to write about isn't a praise nor advertisement. However, I am a big fan of bending and twisting the English language to serve my own selfish purposes. Shakespeare did it all the time. So did all the people who made up slang and essentially ruined many traditional English words.

Pretty much I just had a lot of snippets, but nothing concrete enough to really write about.

-It is 100% okay in my book to fall in love with the bearded beauty that hands you your Mexican take-out. Although it's probably important to realize that you're not 'in love' and your feelings towards a person can be heavily swayed if that person is holding guacamole. Guacamole=love.

-These days, and by these days I mean the past 3-4 years, I feel as though I've turned into the Scrooge of Halloween. October 31st you can find me shaking my fist at various hooligans and good for nothing shysters causing shenanigans and tomfoolery unnecessarily. Like people who steal jack-o-lanterns from porches-is that a universal problem or only indicative of Utah?
Honestly, I feel a lot of resentment to the teen and adult versions of Halloween. I dislike that every costume is described with the prefix 'sexy'. Sexy nurse. Sexy cop. Sexy ebola virus. Sexy nun. Which essentially means the costume is the cookie cutter short and tight with appropriate patterns for the title. It's not creative. And frankly short tiny clothing does not exactly mesh with October weather. I dunno, when Halloween turned into time to party and hook up, I became Scrooge. Not that there's anything wrong with that choice of celebration it's just not my scene.

-My bah humbug tendencies revealed, I will say, I am a big fan of the little kid version of Halloween. Trick or treating was so soooo good. Maybe because my Trick or Treating years occured in Circleville-smallville USA- and everyone knew us and we knew them. So stranger danger wasn't a concern or anything.

How perfect is this? Shannon painstakingly applying her lipgloss, crucial for any witch costume you know.
And, oh hello, that sad clown in the corner is me. Bonus because my mother made these costumes. Holla!

This is the face of a kid that likes Halloween. (I was Asian in my younger years)

-I've owned my laptop for over a year and I still don't know how to use it.

-October is pretty much the last of the ideal fall weather. So, it is very verrrrry important to soak it all up, suck the marrow as Thoreau would say. The sidewalks and gutters filled with orange-y brown leaves are my catnip.

Delicious!

-Most days I feel like I'm straddling the fence between not caring at all what people think, and being upset that people don't like me. On the one hand, I'm pretty comfortable with the person I am. There's so much about me that frankly can't be changed that I might as well be cool with it. If someone doesn't like it, too bad. On the other hand, I honestly don't like the feeling of people not liking me. It's so uncomfortable knowing that people have a false idea of who you are and not liking you. My devil-may-care and people-pleaser sides have been quite at war as of late. 

-Yoga has been recommended to me by a few people as a means of controlling anxiety levels. I've got nothing against yoga. It's just I find that usually half way through I'm laying on the floor like a starfish staring at the ceiling. The benefits of this probably are not compatible to actually completing a session of yoga. If yoga were a person, they'd be the effortlessly cool person at the party, gathering envy because they don't do their hair or make up; they just 'wake up like that'. Which means laying on the floor like a starfish is probably yoga's distant cousin that can't get a date and most likely consumed paste as a child. 

-While Cosmo is not exactly a magazine worth putting a lot of stock in, I'll have you know their horoscopes are spot on. I know this because their horoscope told me my spirit celebrity is none other than Patron Saint of everything wonderful, Ina Garten. Consider me a true believer of horoscopes now. Hallelujah amen, amen.

I did add the halo...it felt right.

-And lastly. I'm a real big fan of Shannon's offspring. That Jaden boy can puke on my shirt anytime he wants. -Although I'd prefer he didn't-

That wonky slightly droopy eyelid slays me. 

Thankful Thursday

I liked writing my last Thankful Thursday post, so why not do it again? There is, in my opinion, never a wrong time to acknowledge all the good that life has to offer. Because life is good, every day ought to be a celebration that we get to be alive and experience all life has to offer.

So, without further rambling, here is what is making me thankful lately.

• I am thankful for kind and positive people. The other day I was walking to the car with a few bags of groceries by myself, when a boy probably no more than 12 offered to help me carry my bags. I was so impressed with what a kind and thoughtful gesture it was.  Being positive and kind is something I am trying very hard to cultivate in my life, being positive makes the good times better and the bad times much easier to handle. All our interactions with other people ought to be centered around being thoughtful and positive, it is completely possible to express ourselves without disrespecting, hurting, or demeaning others. 
• I am thankful for rain. (I'm sorry dad, I know it's ruining your hay) Rainy and cloudy days are one of my most favorite things. It really almost makes it better to have rainy days during the summer, because it saves you from living in the heat. 
• I am thankful for the opportunity to try new things! As I have stated many times, I am not a crafty person. My mother made me go to this after school program thing during elementary where you played games and made little crafty projects. All the children would go home with lovely bead necklaces, or painted projects or festive wreaths...and pretty much no matter what I made turned into a mess. I'm not crafty. I dream of being crafty. Actually, I fantasize about being a sweet little old lady like my Grandma Barton and having a beautiful backyard and cooking good food and making lots of crafts and quilts. So, working towards my sweet little old lady goals, I've taken up cross stitching! It makes me feel quite classy, also like I should exclusively wear cardigans and orthopedic shoes. It's a win all around if ya know what I mean. 
• I am thankful for guacamole. Because I think it is highly delicious. Smashed avocados speak to me on a deep and soulful level. 
• I am thankful for the movie You've Got Mail. Because it is my most favorite movie probably ever. It cheers me up extensively every time I indulge and watch it. I feel quite sincerely that I am Kathleen Kelly. And if I am not Kathleen Kelly, then I am Joe Fox. And if I am not Joe Fox, I would probably settle for being Frank. Because I am very good at rambling in a pseudo-intellectual way about being a lone reed. 
• Lastly, I am thankful for this post ( please please please click on the link) I found on LDS Living that shows some of the Apostles on their wedding day. It's potentially the most adorable thing of all time. 

Basically what I'm getting at once again, is there's a lot of under-appreciated good in life. 

Thankful Thursday

A lesson I am learning, and relearning over and over again in my little life, is the importance of being grateful. I am not naturally good at being grateful and recognizing all the good things I have. I don't think I'm pessimistic necessarily, me and Grandpa Garth prefer to call ourselves realists. ;)

Being grateful isn't beating yourself up that you have good things when others perhaps do not. Being grateful isn't gloating how many good things you've got. I think in essence, gratitude is that moment when you pause and think 'if this isn't nice, I don't know what is'. It's just taking a moment, even just half a second to look up from the grind and responsibilities we have to see at least one thing that is genuinely good in our lives. When things are hard or difficult, it's hard (at least for me) to see all the good that is still around me. I get so focused on the one unpleasant thing and invest all of my energy into it and suddenly life looks very bleak. But it isn't. I mean, not really. No matter how difficult or what obstacles we have to face, there are always things to glean happiness from.

I think it is a good idea, to take time and acknowledge the things, big and small, that give me reason to be happy and grateful.

Things I am grateful this week

• My dad. Minus the years in my childhood we were most definitely not friends, he has been the closest thing I've ever had to a best friend. I used to be embarrassed that I never had a 'best friend' in high school, I had a lot of wonderful friends, but no one I ever felt was my absolute best friend. And as I've gotten older, I realized I've always had one. There isn't anyone else that loves and supports me the way he does, and not just on the Fatherly level. Literally he is not just my dad, he's my best friend. I love all the talks we have, I love that he texts us pictures of George Strait or Lonesome Dove quotes, and I love that he somehow manages to live in a house full of girls without going crazy. 
• I'm thankful for random compliments. It seems like any time I'm having a rough moment, someone will randomly say something nice to me. And as small as it seems, it brightens me up a little. 
• Southern Utah. I'm grateful to live in Southern Utah. I know, it isn't a place that everyone loves, and the small town quirks drive a lot of people nuts. But, I love this area, and everything about it. I feel it is a good fit for me, and I'm grateful that I was born and raised here. 
• I'm grateful for every time a client at work after asking my name, immediately asks if I'm related to 'Wally Heap'. It makes me smile and feel proud to be associated in a small sense with that amazing guy. 
• I'm grateful for kinda random people who take me on late night adventures to the car wash and up on the mountain. 
• I'm thankful that one of my classes this semester ended up being a philosophy of religions class. I have been opened up and introduced to so many different belief systems and ways of worship. I can easily see all the good things that each sect of religion offers. But, I'm most grateful that it has been an opportunity for me, to compare these other belief systems to my own, and strengthening my testimony that the Church I belong to is the absolute correct answer for me. 

Hey June!

June has brought some good times, life lessons, excellent naps, and the occasional snuggle of the nephew. 

Potentially Jaden boy is the coolest tiny human I have encountered.
We are lucky Shannon and Matt share their child with us sometimes  ;)
(Just look at those peepers, doesn't it melt your heart?)

Look at that little face. Kills me every time. ( nbd Shannon, just putting your child's face all over social media)

June has brought me a lucky opportunity to participate in some more college classes. I always have enjoyed learning, and for most of my educational career, school has come pretty easily for me. Obviously with various circumstances college has not been that way for me. Not getting to go to school for a year has really given me a greater appreciation for education and how important it is. Summer classes has been hard and I think I've complained a lot more than I should, but underneath my griping I am truly grateful to be at least trying to move forward in school. 

The biggest surprise of June was me getting a job again. I'm working for Heaton Financial as a receptionist/secretary/gopher/whatever you wanna call it again. I worked a little bit there last summer until Kimber's intern came back for the school year. So, I go in a few times a week and answer phones, type up client logs, organize files and write client birthday cards.

Can I emphasize the last part. WRITE BIRTHDAY CARDS. Dream. Come. True. Getting to pick and put together birthday cards for random people I don't even know has got to be the greatest thing I've ever been paid to do. 

Basically it feels like working in an episode of Mad Men. Except nobody's drinking scotch in their office and I'm enjoying considerably more human rights. So...just a lot of suits and typing going on. 

The combination of both school and work is a real balancing act for me. It's important for me to keep my stress levels and load low enough I don't get overwhelmed and start not functioning well. Most days, it's just busy and hectic, but manageable. 

I guarantee Elder Cardon wouldn't be my friend
 if he knew I exploited his face on the internet like this.

But other days it feels like this ^^^^. Scrunchie stress face feeling. But, it keeps working out, and for that, I am very happy.

I'm learning more and more that playing the comparison game doesn't do any good. I look at my life right now and compare it to other young people my age and think I'm not measuring up. It's been an important lesson to learn that even though people's lives may look enviable and perfect from the outside looking in, you have no idea what struggles they actually deal with. I'm learning that my personal set of circumstances, setbacks and struggles are a reason to work harder to get what I want. I can't and won't ever reach perfection, all I can do is do the very best I can under my circumstances. 

Late, but who cares?

So, I had a birthday. I turned 20. Naturally, we celebrated with all the grandeur, elegance, and opulence that one expects of such a fine lady such as myself. That of Mountain Dew, cheesecake, and horrible food that inevitably gives me tummy problems. (too far? oh well)

Turning 20 is exciting and yet wretchedly anticlimactic at the same time. Exciting because there isn't a 'teen' associated with your age. And when all the street youths are running around acting like hooligans you can exercise every bit of your 20 years to roll your eyes and act like you are so so above such youthful shenanigans. Wretchedly anticlimactic, because 20 is still VERY very young. I mean, you still have 2 years before you get to ironically/unironically use that awful Taylor Swift song regarding your age. So, I mean there's plenty to look forward to with age.

We celebrated with my first birthday wish of being 20. There are a lot of cool cats in Europe, arguably
Elder Cardon is the coolest of the cool cats. On a side note, if you really squint you can
pretty much read the whole email. It's pretty silly so I don't recommend that.

We celebrated my love for cats. With my pre birthday present to myself.
Because I'm a greedy person like that. hashtag selfies4ever

We celebrated my humble roots. Back in the day I was a foxy Indian maiden.

We celebrated these two good ol boys who partied with me all day. They
sluffed school to partay with me. It was a real sacrifice on their part.
They didn't even laugh at me when I got hit on in the gas station and handled it terribly.
Actually...they did. 

Actually this has nothing to do with my birthday. I just really love the internet.

20 for 20

In honor of it being May, and my birthday month, I thought we'd celebrate with 20 things about me in honor of me living on this planet for 20 years.

1. As a kid I thought 16 was the pinnacle of a human beings existence. Because prom, duh. What more could you possibly get out of life? So, pretty much anything beyond 16 was downhill. Thankfully (like can I get a hallelujuh up in here?) that is not the case. 
2. Because my mom got married at 19, I really thought I would too, because obviously you always follow exactly in your parents footsteps. ;) If that's actually a thing though...I'm very behind schedule. 
3. I've spent 19 and a half years thinking that gogurt was special yogurt, or at least different than yogurt in some way. It's not guys. It's seriously just yogurt in a tube. 
4. I think dark nail polish is beautiful and classy...until it chips. After that, it looks like a middle school-er going through their 'emo' phase. 
5. Thought Catalog is a huge guilty pleasure for me. Reading pointless humor or advice articles is like  cocaine to me.
6. I love that getting older has allowed me to have more of a friend relationship with my parents. That Mike and Connie, they're real cool cats. (Parents..sorry I called you Mike and Connie on the internet. I'm not sure if we're close enough for that yet)
7. Texting has ruined my ability to type on keyboards. What do you mean you can't double-space to put a period?
8. I have a nearly constant monologue going on in my head. I'm convinced it's a blessing that only I can hear my thoughts. 
9. If I find a song I like, I will play it repeatedly, until I hate it. (I have ruined Love is Blindness by Jack White this week, and I am not sorry.)
10. I refuse to be ashamed that pink is my favorite color. 
11. Cat jokes, mullets, beards, any meme with Leonardo DiCaprio, and The Mindy Project are pretty solid reasons for happiness in my existence. 
12. I kept my hair short for years, because of one girl who told me 'my face was like totally too round for long hair'. (jokes on you random girl. Jokes. On. You)
13. I refer to almost everyone as my best friend. It seems mean to categorize people into friends and best friends. I throw around the friend word the way Oprah gives out cars to her audience, everybody gets a car. 
14. I'm highly opinionated, but I hate arguing or debating with people. 
15. Regularly, I get embarrassed for other people when they do something embarrassing. I still can't watch Anne of Green Gables without feeling highly mortified the entire time. That girl seriously is too much for me to handle
16. The best book I have ever read in my life is Life of Pi. It's the most different and unique book I've ever encountered, and not at all predictable.
17. I think love triangles in books, tv shows, or movies are highly annoying.
18. I'm relatively stubborn. Generally speaking, once my mind is made up, it's pointless to try to sway me one way or the other. 
19. I live with clinical depression and struggle with anxiety, usually in the form of obsessive and compulsive behavior. It's difficult,and it's been a major game changer for me. It's caused me to put everything in perspective and decide what's important and what's not. I hate that it makes me have to work harder than others to function on a 'normal' level, but I love that it forces me to constantly actively look for good and positive things around me. 
20. I'm a religious person. I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I don't talk about that aspect of my life nearly enough. I love the gospel completely. It has changed me and shaped me into a better person. I completely respect, that other may not feel the same way as I do, and whole-heartedly believe that whatever believe system a person chooses, is a good thing so long as it makes them fulfilled and happy. 

But first, a story.

I think, or at least I assume, everyone had that dream as a kid that you showed up to school in your underwear. There's no logical reason why you would ever go to a public place in your underoos and your mother most likely would've noticed your lack of apparel and stopped you if you tried, nevertheless the underwear dream was still a scary idea.
I don't really have the fear of going anywhere in my underwear so much anymore, but I do have a lot of other equally irrational fears. I know for a fact, that behind the weird and disturbing face paint of a clown there is a completely normal human being. But that doesn't stop me from believing that every clown is a manic serial killer. I'm a well adjusted adult, obviously.
Perhaps you will recall my last grocery shopping experience. Where I successfully wooed the crap out of a stranger and I'm sure he has been pining after me ever since.  If you forgot, you can read about the embarrassing experience here . To quickly recap, a gentleman with a sweater that was knitted when someone was on acid, hit on me with the pickup like "Haven't we talked before", and instead of behaving like a normal human being I panicked and blurted that I only talk to my cat. There's been the misunderstanding that I meant to say I only talk to my cat as a snarky answer to make him go away. I really wanna pretend like that's true, but just for the sake of honesty, I didn't even know those words were coming out of my mouth until it was too late and he thought I was a crazed cat lady.
Aaannnyway, ever since the harrowing experience I've lived with a slight sense of paranoia that I would run into him again. I mean, after all, Cedar isn't terribly large. You're bound to see people sooner or later.
I just sorta figured I would've moved or like died before that ever happened.

More than that, I had resolved in my mind what I would do if we ever ran into each other again. Ya know, to avoid another verbal vomit situation. I had firmly decided that if I ever ran into him again and he recognized me that either,
A) I would play it cool and laugh like I had totally meant to embarrass myself.
B) Be a stuck up priss and pretend like I didn't know who the heck he was. Which in my defense is kinda true

I just knew, that should the occasion arise, I would take it like a man and face it head on.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha NOPE.

Yet again it was at the grocery store, which really should've been a red flag looking back. Casually perusing the aisles I saw a gentleman, with a striking sweater. I say striking, but what I really mean is ratty. But let's go with striking just for the sake of being polite. Something about him felt so familiar. How did I know this good fellow? It hit me like a ton of bricks when he turned around. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I took a deep breath and did what seemed to be the best option. I casually turned around and walked away. (to be read, speed walked, borderline ran in the opposite direction.) I distinctly heard laughter as I was maturely strolling away (to be read, running like I was in a zombie apocalypse film), but hey that could've been any number of customers....right?

Lemme just say what everyone is thinking: how has no one snatched me up with my smooth smooth ways with men? I dunno, it's really quite a mystery.

Oh heyyy

So gee it's been a year since I blogged last. Awkward.

It's because I've been in Italy. Eating endless amounts of pasta and winking seductively at the locals....in hopes that they will bring me more pasta.

Jokes. I haven't been doing any of that.

But anyway. I hope y'all had a good holiday season and new year. I hope you were cooler than me and stayed all the way up to midnight instead of going to bed at like 9:30. I hope you made a ton of really inspirational new years resolutions, that you know you are going to break in about 2 weeks.

I don't actually make new years resolutions. Because pretty much I always end up doing the exact opposite. Like the year I vowed I would grow my hair out, I cut it all off 3 months later. So this year I made some fool proof resolutions

New Years Resolutions 2014

• Eat horribly unhealthy foods every day
• Become a menace to society
• Date every creeper you come in contact with
• Never dye your roots. Let everyone know that you are 19 and have gray hair. 
• Don't save money. Give that stuff away like it's your job

Hooray for goal making.

But for a real life update ummm lemme just show you with various visuals what I've been up to.

Current dating situation neatly summed up by Patrick. and Madam Mim. (or however you spell it)

I am in school (kinda) this semester. So yay for not drowning in my own ignorance. The downside is being educated is very expensive. So instead of being ignorant with money...now I'm smart and living in poverty. How am I managing the strain of education? Not sleeping.

I clearly do not care about my looks anymore. I've completely dropped the 'chic' off of 'hobo chic' and went full hobo. (Life advice: never go full hobo) Despite the fact that people are probably going to start handing me their spare change due to my appearance, I don't actually care. Plus I could use the change.

In case I got anybody excited or curious about my dating life from the update. This is how I'm spending my Friday nights. So calm down.


And the wrap it all up, let me share my go to advice in every situation.

An ending....but also a new begining

Today, December 5th we celebrate the death of a close friend. I'm actually not even talking about Nelson Mandela, although yes I was deeply saddened by his passing as well.
Nay, I refer to the death of Barbie. My former laptop. Oh the sweet sweet times we spent together. Writing papers, listening to music, perusing Netflix, and possibly indulging in some slight Facebook stalking. Oh Barbie, words cannot describe my love for all of your weird quirks. Like how sometimes randomly you close documents I was working on, you were right, I didn't actually wanna finish that English paper. I loved the way people stared at me and wondered if perhaps I was psychotic to have a neon pink laptop. And in your last days Barbie, I really loved how you decided to kill the enter key, it didn't complicate my life at all, only added adventure in trying to work around it.
But, one fateful day, Barbie was viciously attacked by a virus or something. (I'm not a computer genius guys, I dunno this tech-y lingo) And before my eyes, I watched as Barbie deleted everything and shut down. So much was lost that day. Pictures (true), music (true), dreams (semi true), hope (partial lie) and that great American novel I was writing (blatant lie).
Barbie's hard drive breathed it's last breath of life, and died.
*Respectful moment of silence*

So today I graduated into the grown up world of laptops. Ya know, the kind that work all of the time, and aren't obnoxiously pink, and actually have disk drives, and look like they do important work. It's bittersweet. Well not really. Although, now I feel like I should probably act more like an adult and only blog about adult things. Like 401k's, and insurance, and house payments, and how the youth of today are ungrateful little poops. But let's get real, I don't know about any of that stuff.

That one time I was literally too awkward to function...

If you weren't already aware, I suffer from a horrible disease. In fact, it's terminal. It's called awkward. I am a person living with constant awkward-ness. There really ought to be commercials to increase awareness of this illness, I bet Sarah McLachlan could sing for it and everything...                                                                Awkward has made me do a lot of things in my life, things I try to forget about. There was the time when I tripped, not once, but TWICE in front of the most attractive senior's truck. My freshmen heart shattered as he laughed so hard he choked on his gum. There was also the time where I hacked my hair off to short-as-a-man territory and thought it was a good idea, newsflash, it wasn't. That year is still considered a very dark time in my life, pictures from that era have been disposed of. Or there was the time when the Jehovah's Witnesses tried to talk to me and I didn't know what to say to get rid of them and I'm pretty sure I was well on my why to joining their church.
Yes my life has been a never ending string of awkward moments. None so awkward as my last trip to the grocery store. I hesitate even to share this story, as it was a borderline painful experience, and I may spend years in intense therapy trying to recover from this blunder.
It's no secret I love my cat. Lucifer and I spend serious quality time together. Partially because we like each other, but also because not currently being in school seriously slows your social life down. In fact as we speak she's sitting on my lap. She enjoys the warmth of a good laptop. I'm a cat lady and it's totally ok.
 With that preface, let me begin my story. This last week I went to the grocery story. I was pretty frazzled because it was slushy in the parking lot and there was suddenly Christmas decorations obstructing all of the aisles and PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. You woulda thought it was black Friday in that place or something. I have a big problem with situations where I find myself wedged between a plastic Santa and a geriatric in leopard leggings. So to say I wasn't on my A game would be an understatement.  I wandered in frantic desperation looking for tortillas. Which of course couldn't be on the aisle with Mexican food, the bread aisle or any other aisle that you would picture tortillas on. Nay, they were by the ice cream.Which makes no sense to me...but whatevs.
Out of no where a man tapped me on the shoulder. He was late twenties, early thirties, with a stunning sweater vest that Dr. Huxtable himself would've been jealous of. He smiled and did what I assume was supposed to be a sexy eyebrow wiggle....or maybe it was just a twitch. It was hard to discern which. He said,
 "Haven't we talked before?" 
 I froze. Did I know this man? Was I supposed to recognize him? If I don't know him what am I supposed to say? I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable when he realizes we don't know each other? All these questions buzzing through my mind caused a rather long and painfully awkward pause. So naturally I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"No, I only talk to my cat."
That's the best my brain could come up with. I only talk to my cat. Even the most dedicated and antisocial of cat ladies weep at my bumbling answer. His eyes got wide for a minute and he chuckled and said "Too bad, you're cute anyway."                                                                                                            

   

                         

Dirty little secret

Guys. I'm on fire with this blogging stuff. Who's impressed? Anyone?

This girl is on fire. Too old of a reference? Sorry.


I mean, sure, this streak of blogging will die off, and we will go back to months between posts, but let's enjoy this while it lasts.
I'm going to confess a dirty secret of mine. Not all of my dirty secrets mind you, that would take all day, and I just do not have time for that.

To begin, I consider myself a mostly educated person. I can read. I can write. Most of the time I understand all of the jokes in the newspapers' comic strips. Occasionally I listen to NPR.
All of these facts, I use as a blanket of excuses to cover up my one dirty media secret.
I have a soft spot for crappy reality television.
I have literally seen every cycle of America's Next Top model. Heck, I even know to call them cycle's instead of seasons. Something about watching a bunch of type A personalities do photoshoots and try to scratch each other's eyes out is fascinating. I know nothing about the fashion industry, and I miss the height requirement for modeling by at least 8 inches. Yet there I sit, nodding my head agreeing with Tyra that a certain model was not "smizing" in her picture. Preach girl.

I feel so much better admitting that.

Now onto things of substance. Missionary pals :)

Elder Bishop/Bill reached his one year mark last week! I am so incredibly proud of that boy. He is doing such good work in Korea, and before I even know it he will be home!

Also he sent me this picture of Beauty and the Beast gum he purchased in Korea. I don't want to sound needy, and ungrateful, but why isn't this a bigger thing in America? We need this. I cannot be expected to chew mere regular gum. Happiness isn't good enough, I demand euphoria. Also Disney gum.

Regrettably, I do not have any pictures from Elder Passey, however he's doing awesome as always. I am, however, a little worried he will never come home. He is so incredibly in love with Russia, and the Russian people and culture! He is already planning to continue studying and speaking Russian when he comes home. What a great kid.

And last, but not least Elder Cardon. Recently Elder Cardon has been transferred from Brussels, Belgium to Nantes, France. I know he did wonderful work in Brussels, and loved it there, but I know for sure, he will do wonderfully in Nantes. And hopefully, I will do some research, and learn precisely where Nantes is. Yay for ignorance. I don't have much else to update you on with Elder Cardon. He sent me a few pictures.

I pretty much assume this means he's doing ok. Either that or there are some freaky Nacho Libre-esque things going down in France. 

Anyway. I think that's about it.

Thanks Ryan Gosling. You beautiful human you. 

I guess I won an award?

I don't know how applicable of a story this is, but here goes anyway. When I was a but a wee babe in my late elementary years, arguably the most awkward years of my existence I might add, there was a curse amongst us pre-teens called chain letters. They were actually emails but semantics. Anyway, as I remember (I sound so old saying that) basically you read through some overly dramatic story, about true love, or dead dogs, or ghost children haunting Wingers, ok maybe that last one is a fib,but the point is that at the end of whatever dramatic story was in the email was a promise. Nay, a threat. If you didn't forward to email to a certain amount of people all sorts of things would happen to you. Like, you would never get a boyfriend, or your parents would die, or evil spirits would haunt you in the night, or basically you would just fail at life and become a hobo. Naturally the most scary threat of all, was not getting a boyfriend. Oh the horror!

Even as a whipper snapper, I was far too grouchy and old for such nonsense. And I never forwarded a chain letter. Which I guess would explain why I'm single? (more research required for this statement) But basically the point I'm trying to make is I'm really terrible at participating at anything which requires forwarding or anything like unto it.

That being said, apparently I won an "award". And if it came from any other source I would ignore it completely. But it came from my elder sister Shannon, and therefore I really can't say no. The woman is carrying my niece/nephew, I gotta stay in good graces to guarantee favorite aunt status.

So thank you Mrs. Coffin ;)

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Eleven random facts you were dying to know about me

• I hate pictures of myself. Unless I am specifically prepared for pictures, I will look pretty sketchy. Seeing pictures of myself tends to kind of ruin my day.
• I'm an intensely private person. Which is totally ironic considering I have a blog. Not exactly the best place to keep your life private ya know? It's not that I'm not friendly,I'm just not into sharing super intimate details with people.
• I can't tell the difference between Adam Ellis and Adam Levine. 
  

• I never park close to anything. I'd rather park waaaay in the back of a parking lot than the front. I could lie and say it's because it forces me to exercise by walking farther. But the truth is I just get annoyed with other people's bad parking jobs. 
• I have dyed my hair every natural color. And I don't regret it at all.
• I'm extremely independent which means moving back in with my parents this year has been one of the hardest things ever.
• Greek yogurt is better than regular yogurt simply because regular yogurt has the consistency of fruit flavored snot. 
• I love to cook, but I cannot craft to save my life. My future house will be pretty basic, but will have delicious food. It's a trade off I guess.
• Taco Bell and Drake Bell are in fact not related. Which personally I find shocking
• I love to joke around about how single I am and how I'm going to die alone. But I actually really love being single and don't really care about dating
• I once painted a boys nails, and it was a glorious moment unmatched by anything, including cake. 

If you could forget the budget and buy any one thing right this very instant, what would it be? Umm I would buy this thing. Honestly, I don't know what I would do with it. But I want it.

What's your favorite kind of weather, and why?

I'm a real big fan of overcast and rainy weather. Even just overcast is great. I'm that super depressing person that prefers dark and stormy to sunny weather.

It's a date night, what's your go-to outfit?

I don't actually plan outfits. Which probably explains why I look like a hobo so often. I like to look nice for dates, but I'm not the type of girl that plans in advance perfect date outfits.

As a kid, what was your favorite movie?

Oh obviously, Peter Pan. Hands down

If you had to pick only one occupation for the rest of your life, what would you want to do?

Well I'm a psychology major, so I'm looking to be a therapist.

What's your favorite movie now?

I really love Life of Pi and The Great Gatsby....but yeah probably still Peter Pan.

When is the last time you had to face something hard, and felt accomplished for facing it?

Well one time I didn't have wifi, so yeah I think I know what hardships are. 

(Stealing from Karlee) What's your favorite memory of us together?

One time when I was very small you painted my nails, and then told me if I washed my hands the nail polish would be ruined. Then proceeded to tell me to not tell mom that we didn't wash our hands to eat dinner. I totally tattled to Mom. 

Where do you see yourself in 20 years?

In 20 years I will be 39 and still young, and honestly I have no idea where I'll be at :)

What's the strangest habit you have?

I can't just buy clothes off the shelf.I have to think about my purchases for a long time before I can convince myself to buy them.