look for the light

today i am grateful for heating pads and ali's homemade brownies. funny morning hair that makes me laugh and  new mascara {voluminous}. my teacher's comments on my returned paper and skipping my afternoon class. a new shiny flashdrive {because i lost mine in the depths of harold's library} and my parents loving me enough to fight with me.

i am excited for this week, and its accompanying cramps and tests and soul-searching, to end. 

so to bide my time, i'm reminding myself what i am grateful for, 

today and every day. i'm looking for the light on a dark day. 

{watch the link. you'll fall in love with the song}.

*photo: sabino

long story short

okay. this is what happens when you're not making out with a boy on a friday night, and your camera has a phone on it. but is this not cool? i heart my nerd glasses.  

also, i have a new love. 

this love came about because of a boy. ob-vious-ly. but not in the way you might think.

you see, in high school i called him "boyfriend".  i never saw his face outside of alta but i called him "boyfriend" nonetheless. it was an inside joke-- remember how you can never remember how an inside joke becomes a joke? well, that's the case here-- no clue. 

this semester, when i saw him in my multicultural america class {approximately 4 years after our fake bf/gf name calling} i blanked on his actual name-- all i could think was "boyfriend".

fortunately i remembered his name before awful awkwardness ensued. 

well, 

long story short, 

tonight i saw "boyfriend" at the grocery store. 

i inspected his cart of goodness-- such as double stuf oreos-- and saw a pint of magical Ben & Jerry's. 

what's so special about that?  you may ask. well, they have a 

new flavor

{milk & cookies}.

 after receiving "boyfriend"'s blessing i bought my own pint.

i only ate a quarter of it in one sitting because, well, today i realized a few too many things revolving around the letter "l" and needed some ice cream to lift my spirits. 

*side note-- i have not had my own icecream in the freezer since mid-october. 

by golly that's incredible! 

and even if you don't need a pick-me-up, pick up a pint 

it is lovely and highly addictive.

feel

she needed to feel in a way outside of herself. feel what life had to offer.
feel beautiful, or feel special.


alone, feeling stops. she was looking in all the wrong places. as she sat upon the cold rock of reality, she saw the mountain to climb and envisioned the summit of feeling with herself all that life was to give her.

things which don't define

just because you do horrible things does not make you a horrible person.

this comes from somewhere familiar... grey's? i can't recall. but it has now become my thought of the day.

*image via sabino

teenage dream

i want a boy to sing this to me.
it is too cute.

as ali said, "it keeps all the good stuff (of the original katy perry version) and gets rid of the sketchy stuff".

you won't be disappointed. 

his other covers are swell. 

like this.

or this.

or an original, like this! 

plus, he looks like gerard butler. yummo. 

bad boys whatcha gonna do?

i'm not one to run around with the rough leather-clad biker boy, or the heavy-metal rocker with long hair and piercings in unmentionable places.  that's just not my style.

i like the classy boys. 
but there are some classy bad boys. 
and i have found myself running around with one of 'em.

he opens my door and scrapes the ice off my windshield. he buys me food, scratches my back, and laughs at most every comment that tumbles from my lips. 

... i know he's nothing but trouble.

i do.

and yet, i can't stop myself. 


i have chased after the good boys long enough to have gotten dog-tired of running. so now that a bad boy has caught me, i'm kicking off my tennies and relaxing in his blue eyes for a moment.

we're not dating. let me be clear.

just... running around together. at work. as well as outside of our job descriptions.

mr. bear

there is something to be said about innocently falling asleep, holding hands, with someone besides your teddy bear.

i do appreciate the great company mr. bear has been to me nightly for the past 6 years, but i favor a 6'2" man over my 6" stuffed animal.

no offense, mr. bear.

i love you and all, but i fancy being little spoon over big spoon, any day.  

photographer + dress = senior picture

i am enlisting YOUR help. 

i'm graduating, come april, and

 i want to have senior pictures

because, well, i never had senior pictures in high school

 and my momma said i could get them. 

i am searching for a dream photographer who is into fields of wheat & sunshine lighting. just a thought. do you have any suggestions?!

...because i am clueless when it comes to photographers in the provo/salt lake area. 

aaaand one more thing-- the outfit. i have searched online high and low: 

shabbyapple

modcloth 

j.crew

gap

nordstroms

with no success of the vision in my head. any recommendations of where to find an adorable, reasonably priced unique dress?i love ruffles and lace, stripes, and all things nice. 

muchas gracias. 

benton dear

i have fallen in love.

irrevocable swooning and mesmerizement for a man. or rather, his music.

one thing i love about musicians and fictional characters {not that they're one in the same... although at times they seem to be} is i can imagine them according to the dictates of my own interpretation.

an artist communicates their character through music and i, being removed from their person, interpret lyrics according to the language flowing in my heart. 

smitty tibbs {only alien on the planet} and peeta melark {hunger games} have weaved their way into my visionary future mr., and janie crawford {their eyes were watching god} in an extension of myself.

last night i found a picturesque man 
of perfect words and pitch, 
who filled up my single heart with pure bliss.

his name is benton. adorable? yes.

my poor future children... i have fallen in love with such strange names.
remember rupert?... hold the phone... HOW darling would "benton rupert" be?!

anywho-- if you'd like to swoon with me, you can find benton paul here or here, or here.

or below.

just look at how cute he is!

 ... it's unfortunate he's taken, but the lovely songs about his wife make it almost okay he can't be my lover.

did i mention he was incredible live, gave a killer encore, aaaaand is so very nice in person? serious musical gem. 

also, another band's {allred} bass guitarist is my friend trent from long ago! he came over to say hi, and i felt cool.

 

it was a grand evening.

i must go to more concerts! 

gray

the wrong was black and the right was white. 

now black is gray, and i've gone missing inside my own skin. 

i could change. be a rebel or a writer. i could find another part of me, away from this town's expectations.  but when i wake up from this confusion will i be back again, and that girl i have summoned evaporate with the morning dew? 

holding back my fists

"if someone breaks your heart, just punch them in the face.

oh sure, it seems obvious now, but you’d be amazed at how many people don’t think of it when it’s relevant.

seriously, punch them in the face and go get some ice cream."

--chuck klosterman

how grrreat is this?

i am a little bit in love with this thought. my hand might be a little broken by the end of the tirade of face-punches but hey, perhaps i'll break a boy's nose and shatter his ego?

okay. as i was told yesterday, i punch like i'm giving a high-five. maybe i'll have to hold back on punching every boy in the face who breaks my heart.  

for now, i'm trying my best to forgive. forgive for things boys don't even know they've done wrong {according to my expectations of normal behavior}. and forgive after i apologize, and they don't return the sentiment.

i'm taking chuck's advice, somewhat, by eating cherry brownies {instead of ice cream} and holding back my fists back to forgive.

addiction

she was twenty-one, for goodness' sake. she must be allowed to grow up. by the time they were her age, most of the heroines of literature had lived, loved and even died...if she wanted to be a heroine, it was time to start behaving like one.
- robyn sisman


i have had frightening thoughts, today. a candid conversation with a man who traveled down a dark path and somehow made his way back brought me to questioning what it is that fills me, what is my escape. what could be my escape.

and i don't entirely know.

for him, it was drugs and women. eventually, he sobered up. but his wife wasn't enough. his kids weren't enough, to keep him from away his addiction. 
he confessed in a deep whisper to me,"deep down you feel that you're not worth it. the drugs are your escape to happiness--a guaranteed feel-good. so you have to decide, on your own and for you, no one else, to come clean".
i don't have any addictions...besides grey's anatomy and thai food. and perhaps retail therapy. 
but it frightened me how similar to this man i felt, recovering from a dark time and in danger of relapse with a mere trigger, when i had taken a completely different road. 

a year ago, i was sad. for so many reasons.

and that sadness has evolved into a fear. i don't want to succumb to it's treachery again. when i come to a speed bump in the road i have that fear that i will lose control of the wheel to spiral into sadness. or rebellion. or some other form of reckless abandon. 
so this is me, deciding for myself, and no one else, to keep my hands at 10 and 2 to navigate the rough terrain of life.

i need to start behaving like the heroine in my life. 

and then this glorious thought revealed itself to me:

"perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love."

- rilk

*quotes from the wild and wily ways of a brunette bombshell 

the cross-over

isn't it strange when a person from one sphere of life transitions into a previously restricted domain? 

i have succinct spheres of living: home depot, my apartment, byu campus, and my hometown. i spend 99.9% of my time in these locations, and tend not to allow "cross-overs". 

well, a cross-over did occur. 

work and the apartment collided. 

when i see this co-worker of mine at work, it's almost like it never happened. because it is so much simpler to confine him to the home depot sphere. but it did. and suddenly he is no longer restricted from other domains of my life.

our dynamic at work has somehow changed, since the crossover. he's not just my co-worker-- he's my friend who i made bracelets with that one time, who bought me pizza and made me laugh.

very strange, i tell you.

it's similar to that feeling once you've kissed someone-- 

it can never go back to how it was prior to the kiss.

{not that i have kissed this person, just as an illustration}.

life is full of cross-overs, i suppose.
otherwise how would we ever establish anything of substance?

validation

this is my new happy thought.
even if you don't have 16 minutes and 24 seconds to spare, you need to watch this.
homework? smomework. 

you NEED to watch this. 

(i never use caps, meaning it's a big deal).

it's brilliant, unexpected, heartwarming, and the cinematography is {in my opinion} stunning.   

it made me happy. really happy. a happy that you don't often find from youtube videos {wait... who am i kidding? youtube videos make me happy all the time}.

regardless, you need to watch.

and then, you can be happy with me. 

wandering

her heart wondered-- through all this wandering of icy snow-caps and humid forests-- if it could find its way back.

back into safety with his.

away from vines of hurt and glaciers of disappointment.

could she forgive the distance etched into her soul from where she had been?

memories are shaken out with the rug, for fear of failing happiness now.  one day, she promises herself, she will unfurl his smell. his sweatshirt lies tucked away in a bin, near enough to be forgotten.  

sometimes she feels him, right within her breath, until the moment of connection passes.

she again counts again the sunrises until he might fill her soul again.

 

  

somehow today was great

all before noon i thought i was off to a terrible, horrible, no-good day.  

i was late. exceptionally so.

and cried. at work. for other reasons.

(thankfully, alone).

the terrible, horrible, no-good events in the morning paved the way for the happiness of the afternoon, including: goldfish crackers, a caring manager, wonderful and good friends, and the unforeseeable quest into the liquor store {don't judge and don't worry}.

what did i accomplish today?
i did not do a speck of homework. 
i ate 3 slices of cheese pizza. 
i made a new blue friendship bracelet!

somehow that was all i needed.

somehow today was great. 

and somehow tomorrow will be okay. 

the fitting room

i feel i was not made to fit anyone.
i am standing in the mirror, modeling a new rust blouse with beading and lace.  the way it slims my waist, and the subtle attention it draws to my bust, make it my new happy thought. but upon closer inspection, it pulls. my broad shoulders stretch the elegant beading and i am resolute to strip away the near-perfection for a larger size.
once the grande blouse fits my shoulders, the waist and bust hang in an oh-so-unflattering way. i recline into remorse as i replace the hanger upon the rack, knowing it cannot be mine.
because it was not made for me. i am waiting for a better fit. 

with clothing it is simple. you blame the idiotic fashion designer for making such irresponsible concoctions of clothing to be worn by real human beings-- the cut was disastrous, that patterned fabric was heinous, that size could only fit a barbie doll... and so forth.

rarely do you blame your body. rarely do you believe you must conform to that blouse, because there are other blouses lining the walls for you to examine and perhaps even wear.  i don't do such ridiculous thought patterns of blaming my legs or ribcage or wrists in the dressing room.

but i blame my self 

after every failed fitting room experience 

with men. 

which brings me to my opening statement-- i feel i was not made to fit. anyone.

perhaps it is ridiculous. perhaps it is illogical. and perhaps it is absurdely untrue.
but i feel that no matter how many men i try on, i will never come closer to the ultimate fit, and they will eventually leave my room to rest more perfectly on someone else's shoulders. when i see that man with another, matching her every move, it wrestles me into a despair that no one can fit me in the way i need. 

how do you know who fits you? is any of this trying-on business worth the hassle? 

in my opinion, it's an awful big mess of hangers i'm making to find just one blouse. 

my last first

today was my last first day of school.

this fall, amidst the bouquets of newly sharpened pencils, colorful leaves, and deep-rooted excitement of the true nerds at heart, it will be just another day for me. as the buses come round and lunches are packed, as thousands mill around byu and campuses the world-round, i will not be there. no backpack will grace my shoulders, as it has every glorious fall morning for the past... 16 years? goodness gracious. how did i become this old?

it is excitement and fright, with a dash of nostalgic sadness, all whisked in one. 

i officially applied for graduation, today. less than an hour ago.
come april 2011, i will be a college graduate. 
mark your calenders, cause this girl is gonna be wearing one goofy gown and square hat.

a college graduate. such reverence for the term. my first day of kindergarten, i believed only ancient married people could ever attain such a feat. 


fortunately for me, i am a single spry young thing. 
every one always assumed i would be swept up freshman year by some hunky rm, endowing his love and my commitment with a big rock on my left hand.

but didn't ya hear-- i have beat their stereotypic assumption! i have {nearly} attained an education without an attached hubster.

not that there's anything wrong with getting married while in college-- heck, if mr. right had come along i'd probably be eating my words-- but i'm happy to have proven all those assumptive people in my home town wrong.

now that i am at the stage of telling people i graduate in just 3 {4... depending on how you count} months, everyone's next question is:

well, miss record, what are you going to do with your life?!

which, well done. i commend your excellent and unique question. i've only heard it a bazillion times at this point.

here is my answer:

"after graduating in triumph from byu, i shall go on a safari. marry a sultan. and have a pet panda"

correct me if i'm wrong {not really}, but that would be a pretty rad life. when they get those skeptical glazed eyes, then i confess my reeeeaaaal answer, which is nowhere near as exciting: 

work--keep painting for home depot. by that point, full-time.
study for the GRE and increase my vocabulary exponentially.
take the GRE and live to tell the tale. 
begin the lengthy process of applying to graduate programs.
go where the wind blows me fall 2012 to obtain my masters in psychology, specialized in organizational behavior. because i have discovered, i can't handle the crazies (other people are far more qualified to do that).

everything is subject to change because, hey, that's life.

but that is my plan for now.

also, i plan to revel in my "year off" education by cooking, all the time.
and reading books i have neglected.
and writing-- this blog, a few projects i've had on the back burner, and possibly something new.
and learning a few tips from my momma about sewing, cake decorating, etc.
and having crazy adventures with many friends.

so that's my plan, stan.

a lesson from the sunbeams

today i found myself in primary.

i helped my momma {the primary secretary} brighten up the room and straighten chairs. i was going to leave... i really was...but how can you leave primary when the kids are so darn cute?

it was the perfect remedy to yesterday's wearying sadness: cute little faces, folded arms, classic happy songs, giggles, polka-dots, and little waves from the sunbeam row. 

i wish singles wards were more like primary. 

or at least, 

that everything was as simplified as it all really is.

i know who i am. i know god's plan. i'll follow him in faith.

there's a reason we are to be more like children.
when i was in primary eons ago, i didn't understand why adults would blubber about how special we were when we were rambuntious little hellions.  

but now i see it-- the truth is simple to them. and while they may have a case of the wiggles, they sing brightly and in the simplest of ways exclaim that god loves them, that jesus want's them for a sunbeam, and that the scriptures are true.

they believe. whole-heartedly, nothing wavering, nothing doubting.

i want to believe, like those little sunbeams.  

i also want to be happy, like those smiling sunbeams.

so, i'm venturing to southern utah this next weekend for a little adventure and fun.

did i mention i'm skipping class to do so?

you're only young once. plus senioritis has set in-- so i'm going for it.

full-speed ahead, indeed! 

full speed ahead

74% of fijian women, after exposure to american media, confessed feeling "too big or too fat". this is commonly known as body dissatisfaction, and is a precursor to the development of eating disorders.

it is scientific fact that the more often a woman looks at popular magazines, the more likely she is to feel dissatisfied with her own body {in comparison to the "ideal" v.s. model bodies} and venture towards disordered eating.

i feel like this, today.

dissatisfied and on my way to disorder.

not about my bust size or my midriff. 

i have learned to avert my eyes from the unrealistic billboards, from the soul-crushing reality of my lack of resemblance to kiera knightly or blake lively, because i know i will never be that.

it can engulf you, if you let it, because it is everywhere. 

so you try to escape any potential situation of being point-blank with the airbrushed and altered picture of fiction. 

but how, when you live in provo {happy valley and couple-central}, do you remove yourself from the singledom that haunts your holidays and weekends as your once-single friends dwindle into oblivion?
i'm quite certain more than 74% of single provo residents-- quite possibly 100%-- have felt this dissatisfaction i am talking about. . 

living in a love-infected town with proposals at every turn has facilitated my own dissatisfaction with my apparent lack of 

. . . someone . . . 

which, most of the time, i'm alright with.
really.

it's when i start silently crying in tangled, and cannot stop myself the whole drive home, that i know i have been affected by the hypothetical billboard of couples and marriage i thought i was immune to.

sobbing into a bowl of spaghetti, my parents hugged me, and stroked my hair.

my knight will come one day, whoever he is. or so they say. that's what i'm holding on to.

my papa's pep-talk:

"dam the torpedoes--full speed ahead"

-civil war-

the take-home message for myself: dam the marriage-billboard couples!

and the accompanying dissatisfaction and disorder. 

{not really the actual couples... just bear with me on the spirit behind the saying}

 i'm going to live my life--full speed ahead.