saturation point

the point where you are unable to hold or contain more. 
not one more drop. 
everyone has a different saturation point for various people in their lives before you want to kill them or run away. 

8 minutes. an hour. 3 days. 2 weeks.  5 months.

for a very rare few, there is no saturation point.

i become saturated by men quickly.  once their charm has been squished out i become sick of them, and fast. 

their laugh, idiotic comments, and inappropriate mannerisms irk me oh so much.   

i feel claustrophobic and need space. asap.

but

i have not reached the saturation point with mccocoa. 

nope. not even close.

this is slightly terrifying to me-- how un-sick of him i am-- due to the amount of time we spent together this weekend.

i have this terrible worry that he may reach the saturation point with me... but all his talk of future events and continued requests for yet another date helps to disintegrate the fear. 

so, 

i think things are going well. 

i'm letting my fears take the week off. i can't wait for saturday (date #4?)

everywhere and everything

"for a kiss to be really good, you want it to mean something. you want it to be with someone you can't get out of your head, so that when your lips finally touch you feel it everywhere. a kiss so hot and so deep you never want to come up for air... when you find that right person for a first kiss, it's everything."

- grey's anatomy-

numbers

some people keep track. some people don't.

do you know how many?

i know how many. i'm still in the single digits.

i know a boy who has kept track of much more intimate things than kissing. and who's more intimate activities are eight times the number of people i have kissed.

i can't even comprehend kissing that many people, let alone. . .

i suppose i am just dumbfounded that these people really exist-- man-whores to the max.

holy guacamole. 

my first {rape} kiss has evolved into a man-whore, too. perhaps not up to the seventies like my friend but rumor has it, 6 girls in 7 days.  seriously? seriously. who does that?

they have got to have some major std's by now. 

men get off easy-- yeah, an std here and an std there-- but no responsibility, no real long term damage.

but those poor women-- hundreds of them used by man-whores the world round-- i feel sorry for them. i do. used without love. left without promise. broken hearted without dignity.

my husband will not sneak out with the sunrise. he will stay in bed with me forever. 

who knows when it will be, but i'm waiting for that magical and awkward first night. 

and til then, i'm holding out for a good meaningful kiss.

some thoughts on swearing...

i find myself in a funk-- don't you hate that?

everything makes me want to swear. especially homework and my blasted internet connection (which hinders the homework process in a big way).

fortunately, i have caught my tongue from uttering a few choice syllables {today}. 

but i'm not sure how much longer i can hold out.

soon enough, i'm probably just going to break down into a weepy mess as the facade of anger i have built up against all the circumstances in my life will crumble in on me. 

cupcakes don't even sound appetizing. 

bad news bears.

potentially, the worst part is my face is breaking out into acne-mania because i am plagued by stress--  the if-i-don't-sleep-for-the-next-week-maybe-i-will-meet-all-my-obligations kind of stress. 

it's not the kind of stress that can be alleviated with service-- unless someone can do my laundry, feed me food, stop the hands of time to grant me sleep, make sign after sign after sign at the depot, manipulate my brain to incorporate smartness and understanding of the abstract concepts of the impending paper i am to write, and make up for procrastinating two monstrous study guides of information i never learned in the first place {because i was scrambling to do that week's homework} that i am to be tested on next week. 

i just want to sip cider at {halloween} parties and be complimented on my fake eyelashes and sleep so my head doesn't hurt.

swearing is appealing... but no word seems apt enough to convey my frustration and geyser of failure and sadness threatening to erupt.

, 

basket case

is it disconcerting that i relate, sometimes crave, melancholy songs? not because i want to feel forlorn
but because they are beautiful, elegantly wrapping my mysterious feelings in a melody when even my own eyes fail to release the tears. 

i love this song. i love her {sara bareilles} entire album, but this song makes me s t o p and feel my heart, question my thoughts. i remember so many memories and am left with the plea that "robbers and thieves will steal this state i'm in". i don't want it anymore. 

i have a thing for cupcakes

not ferry boats.

{although, i wouldn't mind having a thing for ferry boats with mcdreamy}

cupcakes.

i was whisked away by my date to cupcake heaven.

little did he know, i am obsessively enamored by its deliciousness. 

he scored major points suggesting it as our alternative date, since the dismal rain flooded out our hiking plans. 

once he bought me not only a divine cupcake but my other favorite thing in the universe-- pumpkin in the form of a magical warm drink--- me saying 

"i have a thing for cupcakes" 

translates to much more than cake and frosting.

there could most definintely be a second date.

it was quite the delicious weekend, after all.

yesterday i performed brain surgery on a pumpkin and was attacked by diet coke.

call me dr. grey, if you will.
i flew solo.

the patient presented symptoms of leaking. having been working closely with this pumpkin for 8 days, i noticed a slow softening of tissue ventral-laterally on the left hemisphere. once the fluid started oozing and the soft tissue threatened infection, it was time to open him up. i booked the OR, stat.

going in ventrally, i made a small incision with your average bread knife.  to reach the infection, 2" in diameter of pumpkin skull was excised.

it was apparent the patient had suffered a  subarachnoid tear, resulting in a hemorrhage that was rapidly spreading to the surrounding areas. utilizing the ice cream scoop, i scraped the infection proximal to the incision, checking for further damage. much of the internal was affected by the hemorrhage and necessitated removal.
in order to replace the excised portion of pumpkin skull, it was necessary to have a firm backing by replacing the damaged tissue. the optimal method would be foam, acting as an antibacterial to keep infection at bay.
unfortunately, the patient's brain swelled as the foam proved to be too much.

however, after trimming the hardened tissue-replacement {foam}, the pumpkin skull was reinserted and painted back together.

the patient pumpkin is in recovery, doing remarkably well with only 2 band-aids.

i performed brain surgery today on a pumpkin.

 perhaps it's because i watch grey's, or perhaps it's because i'm taking behavioral neurobiology, but

 today, i felt like a surgeon. 

after my textbook surgery, i made monte cristo sandwiches for my roommates and a few friends. 

i was standing in the kitchen, near the microwave. nate was doing dishes. the rest were at the table.

BBBAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM!!!

there was brown liquid e v e r y w h e r e. on the microwave. the floor. the cupboards. the ceiling. 

nate's face was dripping. my left side was soaked. 

my initial bewildered thought was:

oh my gosh, the garbage disposal has erupted!

then, i turned to see my brand new 2 liter bottle of diet coke sitting serenely on it's side, nearly empty, with the cap disintegrated into the atmosphere.

the 18" it had dropped, after it's precarious placement atop our fridge, was enough to somehow jostle the chemicals inside and cause an explosion greater than any shaking could have induced. 

we all started laughing. hard.

and then cleaned up the mess that had sprayed all of us, dancing around on the floor, standing on chairs, and crawling on our knees to get to the crevices the diet coke had invaded. 

it's not every day you perform brain surgery on a pumpkin

 and are attacked by diet coke.

but yesterday, that happened to me, and i loved it. 

delicious weekend

weekends are like a delicacy to me. this one is going to be especially delicious.

in part, because i do not have a paper due on either friday or monday {which summarizes last weekend}.
i do not have a test to study for-- it was postponed a week.

now, there will be plenty of catch-up

--reading, research, vital errands--

{like getting fake eyelashes for halloween}, 

but this weekend is all about basking in gloriousness.

how shall i bask in gloriousness? (and slip in a little homework)
on friday alone i have been invited to 3 parties. whoa, do i feel popular.

on saturday, i'm sleeping in.

and probably going to the football game. 

and... {drumroll, please} going on a date!

like, for reals for reals. he called to ask.

i'm pretty psyched, even though i have never hiked the Y before (successfully) and am terribly out of shape (heart and lung wise) and have no idea how to conjure an outfit that is both practical (for hiking) and fashionably darling in the low-key sense (as we will be eating afterwards).
...oh dear.

i'll probably be ravenous. hopefully i don't devour the restaurant.

i've picked out shoes (tennies, obviously).


p.s. not that it's important... but...he's quite adorable. and nice. and good. oh, such a hard combination to find!

and best of all... he's not a creeper, does not smoke or drink, and has not been in jail!

my luck may be beginning to turn.

the way i am

my longest friend is getting married.
{18 years of kindergarten and graduation, with cops and robbers inbetween}
when he told me on the phone i had to swallow before gushing congratulations! and elation. because i am immeasurably happy that he has found the girl he wants to spend forever with, and i honestly can't imagine a more perfect fit of a girl for him.
but i nearly cried because i am feeling awfully alone these days.

not alone in woeful sadness, but incomplete by myself.

ingrid said, "i gotta see if i'm all filled up when it's only me".

i'm not filled up. 

all this time alone, i thought i would be complete. full. devoid of a void. 

independent beyond measure.

but i regret to inform you. . .

i want someone to fill in the empty spaces.

to help me put the lonesome on the shelf. to water me with their laugh. 

to bury me in their quiet love. to sooth my worried looks. to fit my heart like a glove. to tell me tales in their warm stares. to interrupt my dreams at night. to make me give up on greener grasses. 

who loves me the way i am.

i will attempt to fill myself up with goodness. with laughter. and if all else fails, a cupcake or two. 

i shall revel in the generous blessing of friends and family, and try exceptionally hard to open my heart to genuine happiness for the staccato of couples springing up. 

folded-up letters

she looked through the letters.
a vacuum and laundry and excess pillows sprawled on the floor;  the present hazy as she recounted the memories.

the paper smelled like last year.
leafing through his words, she smiled at their naivety. they were so young.
and even from yesterday, she had learned so much more.

intangible as the change was, the ink stood out against the white lines of affection.

she folded up the letters. she folded up her heart.
and hoped that tomorrow would come sooner.

star girl

sometimes in life, we learn things too late. 

or later than we should have. 

words "seemed not to enter through my ears but to settle on my skin, there to burrow like tiny eggs awaiting the rain of matruity, when they would hatch and i at last would understand" 

-star girl-

this book is a simple literary gem. and i say 'simple' because i read it in the seventh grade, for honors english. i was so young and small, fitting into 00 jeans and training bras with plenty of uumph to give me a chance at curves (despite genetics and age). i did not understand that my dear teacher was freely giving the key to surviving high school, to enjoying life despite when others point fingers or stare. 

the one thing i wish more than anything is that i had  taken the book to heart.

 it might have changed my entire existence!

okay. perhaps that's an exaggeration. 

but,

it would have changed my attitude, which in essence, is everything.

the years of incalculable experience from my scrawny days as a 12 year old to what i am now have been the roughest toughest funnest years, yet. 

i always wondered who i would be. if i would outgrow my awkward stage and be pretty. if i could accomplish great things. if i could be loved. if i could love. if i could become the person i wanted to be.

in many ways, the answer to these questions is 'yes'. 

and while i am knee-deep in the midst of figuring out "who i am", i have a general grasp. with mere fluctuations of minute details.  

it's only taken me 21 years.

now, i am not advocating a magical return to my teenage years via 13 going on 30 (i would ever wish that permed hair upon myself again, nor the horrendously awful days of middle school and utah studies with mr. evanston) but

my point being:

i wish that knowing what i know now, i could go back and live my life free of ... everything-- insecurity. shyness. jealousy. body dissatisfaction. gossip. broken hearts. naivety. superficiality. materialism. popularity. unfortunate make-up choices and eyebrow tweezing techniques. meaningless kisses with slobbery boys (senior year). the typical tragedies that befall all teenage girls. 

now that the wise words from seventh grade have settled into my skin, i want:

to dance in the rain. 

to find myself in the transition of leaves. 

to wear what my closet speaks to me. 

to become the chef and artist, the avid reader and conversationalist i hoped i would be in my small 12 year old thoughts.

all along, i had it sitting on my bookshelf. star girl. 

i knew it was something special- i just didn't understand why.

i have a soft spot for matt damon

i do. 
there is a place in my heart reserved just for matthew. i looked at several pictures of him tonight.
and then proceeded to look at pictures of huntman. because, in my mind, those two are correlated.

he {matthew} has a new movie coming out-- the hereafter-- which i want to see.

which got me to thinking... there are a lot of movies i want to see.

i determined:
i need a movie buddy.

also, a shopping buddy.

because my shoes are falling apart. granted, they were a find at forever 21 for $8.50 and have lasted well over the shelf life of an $8.50 shoe {over a year and a half? which is rather impressive} but they must be refurbished replaced with a shiny new pair of stronger durability.

the quest for a movie and/or shopping buddy has begun. 

{preferably someone willing to watch easy A with me and browse until i find the perfect red flats and brown boots}

happy hair

there's nothing quite like a hair cut to make you feel new again.
with a little spice of color, for good measure.

i love happy hair--it is rather enchanting to whip away from your face. 

goodbye split ends.

hello, lusciousness.

with my new soft mane, i shall accomplish great things. 
at least that's what i'm telling myself.

 it's all about positive thinking, folks.

schmoosing schmuck has struck again

wouldn't that be a great headline?

i can just see it now:

"schmoosing schmuck has struck again"

with an incriminating picture below-- a man hastily trying to preserve his anonymity.

but then, this wouldn't ever make front page news, because it happens everyday. 
the habitual header would merely be perpetuated by the naivety of women (myself certainly included).

but i still just don't get it...

correct me if i'm wrong, but "hypothetically":

if a boy is dating a girl, he should not approach another girl {potentially me} 

from behind to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her close.

 in public, might i add.

you just don't do that. it's bad manners. 

especially the boy's casual reference in the conversation 3 hours later about this girl he's "kinda dating".

then what the hell was he schmoosing me for?!
imbecile.

plus, i feel like a jerk for falling for his sultry lines and lingering gazes, as well as my intrusion on previously marked (unbeknownst to me) territory.

men are schmucks. 

but. . .what can ya do?

i wish i knew.

perhaps try not to make front page news?

that'll do for now.  

boots

i wore my boots yesterday.
and today.

because two days before yesterday, i encountered a man on campus wearing wranglers and boots. and if there's anything you should know about huntman, it's that he wears these-- all the day long (except now, since he wears suits and missionary tags).

so, i was inspired to wear my own pair of leather cowgirl boots. to honor huntman. and (if we're being honest, here) to elongate the legs and give me some cowgirl-sophistication.

two year ago...{exactly}

i was dreaming of cowboy boots-- more accurately, of the man in said cowboy boots.
and wouldn't you know it, that cowboy fell in love with me, beyond all the logic and reasoning i could muster of why. and i fell in love with him for a thousand reasons beyond his cowboy boots and wranglers.

for a long time after he left, all i noticed were wyoming license plates, wranglers, and red ford ranger trucks.

these faded into the background but this weekend, it's all i can seem to notice.

since i was on a huntman-reminder kick, i let my "cowboy take me away" playlist twang in my car, for the first time in a long time.

turns out, that wasn't such a great idea.

i don't think i'll listen to country music anymore.

but i'll still wear my boots on occasion.
and hold out for a few more months, and try and wrap my brain around the actual practice of dating other non-cowboy men.

"i'm not g.i. jane, i'm attachment barbie"

this is my problem.

i'm not hard core.

 i can't just rush in there, get some action, and move on out.

before the mission has even begun, i'm thinking of ken.
and envisioning us together-- not just to get it on, but, as something of substance in blissful plastic ignorance.

 part 2 of the experiment on happiness has been aborted. indefinitely. 

plan of action:

detonate daydreams of kissing. asap. 

10-4.

*quote via grey's

i ask...

is there anything more wonderful than listening to the crackling of thunder and the pitter of rain against the ground, the windows, against the whole earth?

i love this. 

it's unfortunate i can't stay inside all day, cozied up in this big sweatshirt and slippers of mine.

life calls.

and i've already skipped one class today. better not make it a habit. 

i covet. therefore, i need.

i need this dress.

{shabbyapple.com}

online shopping is dangerous.

well... i never do buy anything, but the coveting that goes on could be fatal. 

{anthropologie.com}

{modcloth.com}

aren't they all just beyond-belief adorable?

gah. my mother has cursed me with the shopping gene. 

insula

right now i am craving:

a steaming caramel apple cider from starbucks. if you haven't tasted, you are in for the divine.

a backscratch, morphing into a deep lovely massage with tidbits of tickles. 

pride & prejudice. or you've got mail. some wonderful girly romantic movie to reestablish my belief in the possibility of love and magic. 

kissing. oh, how i crave kissing some days. today is one of those days. 

the problem with this craving is i don't just want kissing. i want more. no, not sex-- i want love and adoration to accompany the kiss, or even a gentle but firm infatuation. i wish that this future kiss of mine will be perfection, or at least give me hope in future evolvements-- that the mystery boy will intertwine his hand with mine, twirl my brunette hair, and unleash butterflies as he looks in my eyes before the inevitable lip contact.

is it too much to ask, for that to happen, twice in one lifetime? i miss it, so. 

the kissing. but mostly the magic of huntman.

and while i have casually dated a handful of gentlemen {in the past year-ish}, i haven't felt the electrostatic kinetic energy surging with them. it's been a gentle buzz, or sometimes. . . nothing at all.
 i don't want to fall into the trap of neutrality again. indifference is behind me. i want to be positively certain in the force of attraction between me and future mystery man.

because the linger of gum-stealer's taste on my lips (from awfully long ago) still unsettles me and must be quelched. 

the philosophers are accurate that the best things in life can't be bought.

but in the meantime,  

       i'm going to starbucks.

*according to neurobiology {which i am nerdily loving}, the insula is where cravings originate from. 

10 welcomes. you have been missed.

october, welcome.

i am so happy you are here!

why?

1. because i have now worn shorts in october-- that is typically labeled as craziness in utah, but since it reached 90 degrees today i think my mental status is deemed {more or less} healthy.

2. with your arrival, that means halloween is only 30 days away! and somehow i'm going to find the cutest darn modest costume there is-- just you wait and see!

3. general conference is tomorrow. words probably can't convey the excitement in me to go home for the weekend, get fat with momma's good cooking and far too many chocolate-covered-strawberries, load up on mom-hugs, and spend day and night with good lovely friends. oh yes, and to hear president monsen and all the other adorable little old men (and lady)'s counsel. because am i ever in need of a spiritual pick-me-up.

4. because october unleashes decorating restrictions-- you can go crazy with pumpkins and gourds and witches and ghosts and fake spider webs and be completely adored.  if you did that in march for st. patrick's day, people might think you had gone bonkers. unless you're irish-- they're granted immunity on that one. anyways, i get to decorate home depot with october-decorative-goodness in all the creativity i can muster. maybe i'll even bring home some indian corn for my apartment. hmmm... brilliant.

5. october is special. details later, but the 11th and 16th and 22nd will be {hopefully} good days (oh huntman... you've made me a sentimental fool). PLUS, thanks to my bestie, i have discovered all these random holidays. did you know, for instance, that october 14th is national dessert day? love it. i will be making pumpkin magic on that day.

6. the leaves are changing! the mountains are morphing into this beautiful tapestry of green and red and gold.  i must make it up soon to catch a glimpse before the wind whisks the leaves away or the snow invades their serenity.

7. i have all these plans for october of being productive and getting things done and my life in order. with the winds of fall and the beautiful colored mountains i'll be turning over my own leaf.

8. i can break out my sweaters i've been saving! and my boots and jackets and coats and scarves and gloves.   i just LOVE october! and my fall wardrobe.

9. there's sure to be good parties. oktoberfest. halloween. national dessert day. i love parties! so much potential for food and boys. and who doesn't love an excuse to dress up? october is so grand.

10. everything is pumpkin! if there's anything you should know at all about me, it's that i'm obsessed. pumpkin pumpkin pumpkin. tonight i bought pumpkin ice cream at the store! and there is sure to  be consumption of pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin magic, pumpkin smash {jamba juice}, pumpkin soup? (i have yet to try that) pumpkin seeds, even (perhaps. we'll see if i'm craving sodium.) october has the best potential for pumpkin-ification. 


welcome back, my dear friend october.

i have missed you so, these long 11 months.