Tuesday, November 30, 2010

alas... a lesson on daydreaming

just when i thought i was all grown up
and past daydreaming...
i swoon in class and have a wondrous cuddle-dream. 

but then, a twitch jolts me back into reality with little subtlety.

it was just a dream.

and now my professor and seat-neighbor know i was nodding off. 

Monday, November 29, 2010

cuddle-aholics anonymous

okay. i admit. i miss cuddling. 

really, is there anything that comes close to its wondrous oxytocin-releasing euphoria?

it is purely lovely cuddling with mom or snuggling up to papa, and quite comforting to lay on your friend's lap while she plays with your hair... but it is light years away from the majestic splendor of being with a boy.

*heavy sigh*

i relapsed this weekend. and it was marvelous.

the confidence was perhaps the most engaging-- his firm but gentle hand on my back. the smooth opening of his arms to embrace my tired body. the soft continuous stoke round my shoulders. 
the long enveloping hug at the door was the cherry on top.

i have asked myself more than once:  
was it the cuddling i enjoyed so much? or the boy?
unfortunately, i can't differentiate between the two. not in this case. because, the casual and natural progression to cuddling is the epitome of who he is. of his kind heart and unique life.
and so... i am left wanting more. {blast those warm arms}

perhaps a puppy would suite me well.
{a cuddle buddy, with no strings attached. besides providing food, shelter, walks, treats, baths...}

hopefully i don't get this poor chap though. but isn't he cute?!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

the stache

it is my personal opinion that many an attractive fellow have fallen with the stache.

only men over 35 can have a mustache and be deemed dignified.
grandpa? it adds to his character.
uncle ted? can't imagine him without it.

but 20-something-you-who on the street in the v-neck tee? not your best look.

but here i am, eating my words... that while i do not prefer the stache {clean shaven, please, or a nice layer of mcsteamy scruff} once you get to know the man behind the mustache, he takes on a new indie-dignity.

the stache is part of the person, and so you take it or leave it. 
7 hours of fun can easily outweigh that tiny little thing above his lips.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

sandy landy musings

i love the comfort of home.
the soft creak in the kitchen floor at its juncture with the lived-in tan carpet. the slight incline of the driveway. the promise of cupboards being stocked with spices and soups and cereal. the gentle patter of the shower in the generous-size tub. the dark red hue of the room that cradles the baby grand piano. the feeling of security in so many memories and so much growth.

all this wonder, in juxtaposition to college life, is like staying the weekend in the ritz.

i am relishing the comforts of home... ironically, alone.

it is strange, to stay in this quiet and cozy warm home of memories, because it is quadruple the size of my apartment. in a quarter of this space i live with 3 other girls, and that space is always buzzing with pots and pans and our sporadic faucet and laughing and the typing of keyboards and soft russle of textbook pages turning.

this solitude has been a welcome reprieve from life.

after recovery from my black friday excursion, i attacked with fervor my many homework projects.
following 4 consecutive episodes of  psych {oh, am i addicted! sean and gus are in all my dreams which i doooo not mind} i decided i needed human interaction-- always a good thing after recovering your solace in solitude.

and so i saw 2 boys i may have kissed once upon a time. 
funny. very funny, i tell you.
i buried the hatchet with one over ice cream and laughed at the other's pierced ears.

tonight i am seeing a boy i might have had a monster crush upon when i was a doe-eyed seventeen year old busser at the mayan.
i think it may be a date. . .
and then, oh so randomly, i was asked out over facebook {!!!} by a boy i have not spoken to since... high school? and even then we didn't talk much...

it is strange.
these men have been in my life for years, and the happenings of our memories occurred years ago.
i have become this intelligent confident woman and they have become equally different from our teenage interaction, and yet, when i am with them and our conversation gathers momentum it is as though nothing has changed.  i evolve into that bashful and simultaneously flirtatious fourteen or sixteen or seventeen year old all over again.

it got me to thinking-- that yes, i am a much different person {thank heavens}-- but it is merely experience mached over myself.  peeling back the modge-podge a few layers lies the preservation of my seventeen-year old self. and beneath that is the idealistic sixteen-year old. and underneath that lies the socially-emerging fourteen-year old.

it is a comfort, being at home, and realizing that that same girl is still here with me, underneath the layers of college experience and heartbreak and laughter.

i am still that becky inside. i need to let her out, to help me add more layers of tissue to my self and modge-podge my holes and hurts into oblivion.

Friday, November 26, 2010

early morning adventures

i am a veteran 2010 black friday shopper.

start time: 10:30 p.m.
end  time: 5:00 a.m.
bedtime: 6 a.m.
locations: fashion place mall; park city factory outlets
purchases {you might not believe, but the deals were that good}

the gap= $75
1 white thermal
1 blue thermal
1 black fleece pull-over
1 grey wide-neck sweater
1 black cardigan with silver piping
1 red plaid nightgown

j. crew= $80
1 graphic t-shirt
1 peach cardigan
1 grey cardigan
1 flower headband
1 silver headband

1 green lace tee
1 black lace tee
1 silver skinny belt
1 gold skinny belt

not too shabby, eh?
i prefer the adjective incredible.

the bags haphazardly strewn across my polka-dot rug at the foot of my bed were a happy reminder of the adventures this morning... i mean... afternoon... whenever i woke up.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

i give thanks

thanksgiving this year was low key.
i didn't wake up with butterflies of anticipation for stuffing and homemade rolls... although i was excited.
it is perhaps the smallest thanksgiving i've ever experienced... and it was perfect.

we weren't running around the kitchen, stressed, yelping about all the food to be made and the dishes to be decontaminated.
we made food as we went and did dishes here and there {with plenty of snitching, laughing, and christmas music}
{me with my baby-- sweet potato apple bake}

with no set time to feast we ate when the food was ready. 
so simplistically serene. 

glowing candles provided the ambiance as we passed around the delicate china -- dishing up honey-glazed ham, yukon gold potatoes, original stuffing, spicy sausage stuffing,  sweet potato apple bake, bluberry pineapple salad, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, homemade buttery rolls...

i have been keeping a gratitude journal for some time now.
 when i pick it up every night, i have pages of orange ink reminding me of the truckloads of blessings i have been given. 

today i was most grateful for my family and friends. 
they mean the world to me. 

whether they're right here with me {watching psych on our comfy brown leather sectional} or over the sea fast asleep in germany, or surrounded by family down the street or in colorado or seattle or wyoming, or working hard in armenia... my heart grew three sizes {thanks mr. grinch} in love for all of them. for you

p.s. here's what i was up til 12:30 last night-- my lovely black friday signs (that only took... 8 hours?) and the army of markers and diet coke.  

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

bangin bangs

i went to the dark side again. with a chunk of red.

and got bangs. big shocking catch-that-boy's-eye kinda bangs. 

 a. it's comfy {gap} 
b. i should be adored. 

with my bangin bangs, i shall accomplish great things... this time with a hint of devilish flirt. 

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

how to save a life

between the lines of fear and blame
you begin to wonder why you came.
where did i go wrong? i lost a friend. 
somewhere along in the bitterness. 
i would have stayed up with you all night
had i known how to save a life.

my own personal medical knowledge comes from grey's anatomy and discussions round the dinner table with a nurse {mom} and doctor {brother}-- more second-hand than hands-on training.
and yet while i don't {really} know how to perform a hemispherectomy beyond my own snooping in research, i am excellent at performing the postmortem.

no expert at analyzing brain tissue, i am a professional of retrospectively abstracting my life-- inspecting the culprit of my many inadequacies and the neuroanatomy of reasons culminating in where i am. right this very instant.  

time and time again i come back to: "where did i go wrong?"
because i blame myself.  it's always me that is not enough of whatever it is the situation calls for. 
if i were more ________ then ________.
if i weren't _______ then ________. 
the postmortem can be vicious, to say the least.

my wonderful friend sent me a link to this, as i was hosting my own pity-party:

you mustn’t perform an endless postmortem on the relationship.
by continually asking yourself what you did wrong or what would have happened if you’d done things differently, you keep your wounded feelings alive.

i don’t believe the Lord intends you to be hurt again and again for the sake of “learning experiences.” i believe that He wants you to know the joy that comes from understanding, trusting, and loving someone in an honest, giving relationship. 

you may find that the best preparation you can make for marriage is to learn to love God and to love yourself. when you have a secure, spiritual knowledge of yourself as a child of God, you will find a sense of personal confidence and identity that makes a good relationship possible.
how to save a life
it's tricky. 
it's more than surgery and vitamins and 8 cups of water a day. 
i'm figuring out, little by little, how exactly to save my own existence of happiness
i never signed the dnr forms, so i am using extraordinary measures in loving myself. i deserve that.
enough to let go of every past boy, and to thank them for what they have taught me, even if it wasn't meant to be for the eternities. 
{huntman is still pending. i'm not letting go until he tells me to}. 

Saturday, November 20, 2010

christmas music is the cure for souls

i daresay it:
christmas music is the cure for souls.

i've never been one to listen to christmas music pre-thanksgiving.  

that's just unethical.
but when i bought the new glee christmas cd at costco last night, i had to pop it in. have a little listen.
well, that little listen has unleashed my christmas fervor and a fanatic happiness.

so much so that i welcomed with open arms and lifted spirits cozy 106.5 & fm 100.3's competitive continuous christmas music {which typically irritate me into a state of scrouge-esque grumblings pre-thanksgiving}.

my car has been blasting my special CHRiSTMaS!!! playlist on the pod-i, and you better believe i sing along with david archuletta, the barenaked ladies, and mariah carey.

joy to the world! indeed.
i love christmas! the sparkle. the magic. the chesnuts roasting on an open fire {have you ever actually seen that? i am missing out}.

not to worry, i am relishing the holiday of thanks, and gonna eat me a whole lot of pie. but with christmas music spurring up my soul in the background.

Friday, November 19, 2010

santa, baby

do you remember that endlessly long christmas wish list for santa and his elves?
the one you scrawled with crayon when you were 5, with backwards letters and terribly misspelled words, and the recurrent theme of barbies, roller skates, and either a pony or ballet shoes. 

oh, the days. giggles of anticipation and paper chains to count down til christmas. because on christmas, dreams came true with that new magic-attic club doll {true story} or a bow around that fascinating didgi-pet.

i use to know what i wanted. it was so simple-- a life-size barbie, bonne belle chapstick in every flavor, nail polish {which i still want}, accessories for my dolls, and tweety bird shirts. 

now, when asked what i want for christmas, i go b l a n k.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

so without further ado, and after much conjuring and pondering, i proudly present: 

christmas list for 2010

new eyeglasses 
{such as these... mine are scratched to the point of inhibiting ideal sight}

my initial thought was,
oh my gosh, i am old
i  actually want a crock pot and glasses. 

but my disheartened soul then was struck with amazement that, i am not boring, i have merely outgrown all those childish fantasies of materialism. i am now wanting things i need!

but then... i went shopping... after work for a few necessities {eyeliner, apples}
 and was severely sidetracked by the grandeur of the mall and i thought:
shoooot! i still want everything.

so while i no longer dream of sugarplum fairies and lollipops, i can't escape the allure of new gloves and sparkly eyeshadow, the temptation of nail polish {still... it's a weakness}, or the glitz and wonder of a new blouse.

but, i was successful at putting several things, wrapped up so lovely, back onto the shelf.
i do not need them... oh, i want them. i do.  but i do not need such delicacies.

a small part of me believes, i do need them, {and here's the part where i confess i craved with the sephora nail polish...} but i have matured past tantrums for not getting what i want.  
{at least, from the stores}.

then i asked myself:
"self, what do you really want?"
and it was so apparent, i wondered why i even asked.

the entire store of gap.

...but beyond the obvious, i really, truly, buried beneath the bitter dirt of frustration and the weeds of rants aimed at the male species, want love.
i want huntman. still. after everything.

i had a kissing dream last night. or at least, i think i did.  i woke up feeling dream-kissed. 

later on in the morning a boy seductively extended the invitation that, "we should make-out".
{seriously, this occurred. today}.
for a fraction of a second, i considered it. it could easily happen. matching up lips is not too complex. but {fortunately} i came to my senses and i declined with a laugh at his ridiculousness.

the thing i want most for christmas 
requires a little extra work up at the north pole. i've accepted that this year, i won't open up a bright and shiny heart full of love in my flannel pj's christmas morning.

and i'm okay waiting.  i'm finally okay.

a boring old crock-pot suits my fancy just fine this year.
and the eyeglasses are sure to make me look more like a {sexy} librarian. 

Thursday, November 18, 2010

the parable of the apple tree

once upon a time, there was an apple tree in a great orchard.
it loved the beautiful red apples which graced its branches.

they were all different-- some were small, some were big, some speckled with apple freckles, and some matte in radiant day.  

one summer's day, one apple's eye caught sight of the shiny splendor of another. 
he exclaimed, 
"hot momma! you're the finest apple i ever did see!" 
(in a southern accent, because that makes talking apple more plausible and memorable)

and this shiny splendid apple blushed and twirled on her branch in pride.

and then a curious thing occurred...
the eyes of all the apples-- the big and the small, the freckled and matte--
darted to this one shiny splendid apple.
and oh, how they wanted to be shiny and red, free of apple freckles. 

so, they swayed to the mall and purchased gallons of apple-shine-perfecting-polish. they lathered it on, day after day, until their shine nearly matched this one shiny splendid apple.  in their efforts to hide apple freckles and exchange shape for the perfect apple figure, nourishment was leeched; their core began to wilt, falling prey to worms and decay. 

fall blew away their friendly leaves, and soon the apples fell, one by one, to the soft and chilled ground. 
snowflakes blanketed them into sleep. when the sun thawed the earth that next spring, the beautiful, lustrous, red apple skin had vanished. 
all that existed were the rotted remains. 

the end


but look, the little seeds survived! 
burrowing into the ground, they gained nourishment from the residue of apple core.  the seeds that burrowed hard and burrowed deep were granted roots, granted a future of magnificent beyond any shiny-red-apple splendor.  

only the seeds of regularly-but-not-excessively polished apples could gain nourishment from the sweet flesh beneath the imperfect exterior layer of the apple.  these seeds, minuscule as they seemed, evolved into natural monuments to tower over rolling hills and tumultuous  seas. 

the end
{for reals}

while the parable is not mine, the words are. credit goes to my dear former religion professor, brother bartholomew, for his inspired idea.
he shared it with me, and a host of other young women, at byu's final recapturing beauty event. 

to break it down for you, 
the apple= our temporary condition
the tree= our heavenly father
the seed= our divine potential

*in every seed, there is a tree. 

i am an apple now, but i am not an apple.
my body does not define me.
i am me. i am a seed, in my core. my dear heavenly father {tree} is teaching me how to nourish myself, to thrust my roots in deep, so i can grow into a tree of eternal magnificence

it's hard, being an apple. fear of falling and worms. some days are shiny, some days are matte. 

people who go grocery shopping are searching for the shiny apple-
--everyone loves the shiny ones.--
but have you ever bitten into an apple of glossy glamor only to be assaulted by a bitter and decayed flesh?

i put on a fresh coat of polish in the mornings. that's good and healthy. but the obsession with shinning yourself into physical perfection is time-corrupting and superficial.  i was reminded of that today.

it's not about how much apple-shine-perfecting-polish you can lather on. it's about the seed inside you. 

that inner beauty and strength 
that no one else, 
but the very perceptive, 
can see.

sometimes, i forget what is at my core. 
but without fail in my frailty, i am gently reminded through tender mercies and the compassion of friends.  

nourish it, the best way you can! grow and grow and grow until you feel "complete", "finished"-- not perfect, as we so often think we must be. 

the growth doesn't come overnight.
i, too, am learning it's a process.

but with time and patience and a whole lot of faith, that seed will blossom into a shimmer no amount of apple-shine-perfecting-polish can buff. 

we can glow all on our own.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

avada kedavra

new music is a weakness of mine.
i just love a new beat with unfamiliar lyrics to liven things up.

now i must fess up... i spent a little too much on itunes this week {not astronomical amounts, don't fear}...
but i am smiling with my ipod cranked, and that is a welcome change, my friends, to drab and dreary hormonal becky!

while i love to share my music, my dear cd burner is being as temperamental as i was last week. poor thing.

so, you must check them out for yourselves!

{avada kedavra!}
{she's crazy! like, really}

enjoy the musical genius bliss! 

P to the S: i'm doing something drastic with my hair! who doesn't love a little crazy now and then? this is my remedy to get back in sync with my mojo.  

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

i'd be sleazy for ronald weasley

not reeaaalllly.
but, did you know ronald{or rather, the actor}'s real name is 
rupert grint?

how great of a name is that?! 
admirable. sturdy. unique.
i place it in the category of earnest {oh the important of being earnest. oscar informs us of that plainly with his incandescent wit}

i almost want to name my son that: rupert
... probably more a middle-name type thing... 

that is my grand thought for the day. 
also, i wish i was dressing up and not sleeping to see harry potter 7 (part 1) this week.

instead, i'll be writing a monstrous paper on:
hemispherectomies in patients diagnosed with rasmussen's encephalitis.

so on second thought... i might be sleazy, for ronald weasley.

Monday, November 15, 2010

the fading of the phrase

they come with ease. falling easily off lips frequently. routinely.

their initial utterance causes a stir, because it means something
something bigger than you planned. 
something indicative of future, of adoration, of an interdependence. 

it's when those words stop that another stir is evoked. 
a stir sinister. or a stir of simplistic acceptance. 

the fading of those three words out of your diction might have been expected. 
but if i can still say the phrase to you, with my bleeding heart open wide, why won't you return the sentiment? 

a magic toast weekend

my mom made me magic toast this weekend. twice. i really needed it.
the weekend was fantastic
full of fun and wonder. 
but, between the moments of laughter, it was also one of the hardest. stretching me and pushing me emotionally and spiritually. 
i am absolutely drained.

here are the bright spots:
*i attended the byu basketball game where we creeeaammmed fresno. like, obliterated. 85 to 51? wowza.
{ali and i}
i met a new fabulous friend,
and us girls had a wonderful discussion at sonic, focused on the stupidity of men. 
{kelsey, whitney, ali, and i}
*i watched my first full episode of psych
*i slept myself out of sickness {hopefully!} and with any luck, the moodiness of hormones.  
*i went shopping with my momma up in sandy.  
*i played with an old friend in sandy.
we went to wal-mart,
took the most random of pictures,
made a delectable dessert,
and watched how to train your dragon.
 (thank you, box that is red). 

{our celebratory friendship cupcake-cookie-brownie-- approximately 7 years}

i also received discouraging news.
and, on the verge of an emotional break-down constantly {estrogen, george}, couldn't think about certain things.
but once i did, the tears came crashing down. i could not stop the gushing crack in the dam.
i missed work because of an excessively foggy head and scratchy throat, and my inability to stop crying long enough to drive safely.

my sadness lingers because the things that usually lift my spirits -- like shopping, magic toast, and priesthood blessings-- have not rekindled the hope that always burns inside of me.

i am to be patient. but without more encouragement, i want to just give up on oh so many things.
i am tainted with a bleakness-- one that permeates my very heart, that cannot be washed away with shopping or painted over with cupcakes.

it's all part of the grand plan. 
it's a process. 
i understand that.
but, i yearn for hope on the horizon. i want to discover happiness at the end of the rainbow.
i want magic toast to bring back my smile.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

regression from maturity

i've tried to be mature about this, searching for what i can learn from it.

saying "it's okay" over and over as my inside wells up with hurt and i'm given the sympathy smile, accompanied by reassurance that there's some great guy out there just waiting to date me.

*make a note, my maturity is taking the weekend off... .

then where the heck is this knight in shining armor
coming to rescue me from this tower of loneliness?


my excavation for the positive and the potential life-lessons to be gleaned from this experience have exhausted me.

i hate that i care so much about this trivial thing called dating.
i was fine not dating. a-okay. yeah, i missed cuddling and the whole emotional connection, and a little make-out would have certainly helped to unleash some happy neurotransmitters, but i was fine on my own. perfectly fine.

but now, i feel broken again. i yearn for what i had forgotten i missed. 

why begins countless questions burdening my heart tonight. 
i am at a loss for where or when i will find the answers. 

a red carpet affair

the formal evening began long before this first picture, with mascara and plenty of bobby pins. 

we curved up hobble creek to an incredible mansion, with a treehouse inside, billard tables to spare, a kitchen the size of my apartment, a ballroom, an arcade room, and of course, a playhouse {complete with slide} enclosed in the stone walls of greatness. 

we even had a red carpet upon entering.
and this was waiting for us!
{the centerpieces are actual movie reels. for real. and the stars, they're actually chocolate}
thank you, activities committee.
{morgan, myself, emme, and kayla primped and polished}
{my #16 soulmate} 
{we were destined to eat together for the evening}
{movie reels. for real}
{we went a little tyra up in here!}
{america's next top model. work it, gurrrl!}

{i struck a pose for the cameras. the more awkward, the better}
{we're too sexy for our own good}
{i love the lighting in this}

i love any occassion to wear this dress.
 it is the single most expensive article of clothing i possess. 
too bad black is considered morbid for a wedding dress, because if i could, i would wear this. 
perhaps i'll just buy it in white... 

{senior prom}
{my momma's an excellent hair-stylist}