My OTHER Life.

So this may or may not be my online journal... but if you were ever looking for a cinematic depiction, please take a gander at "Julie and Julia". It's officially the story of my life... minus the whole signed book contract at the end.

St. Francis and The Sow

by Galway Kinnell
(finding credit: Tristen Maddux)

The bud


stands for all things,

even those things that don't flower,

for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;

though sometimes it is necessary

to reteach a thing its loveliness,

to put a hand on its brow

of the flower

and retell it in words and in touch

it is lovely

until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;

as St. Francis

put his hand on the creased forehead

of the sow, and told her in words and in touch

blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow

began remembering all down her thick length,

from the earthen snout all the way

through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of

the tail,

from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine

down through the great broken heart

to the blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering

from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking

and blowing beneath them:

the long, perfect loveliness of sow.

Meh... Whadaya gonna do?

I'm sitting here, watching Ben working away, tackling enough Chemistry homework to make me want to poo my pants, and what do I do? Oh, you bet I wrote Baylee the epic email of the year. And what'd I do, afterwards, to burn through even more time? I started blogging. Genius.

Quick update:

• School started... I'm taking six credits and working full-time... Luckiest girl ever? Sure am. Suuuure am. 
• The "Save the Date" cards are almost ready! I'll try and post pictures when they're completed. Should be pretty great... I won't lie. 
• I moved to Tooele... Although I'm only there for another four months, it's still a little despairing being so far away from what I've grown accustom to viewing as "civilization". 
• Highlight of my week, last week: I saw three mullets in four days. Thank you, Tooele/Grantsville/Stockton/wherever-else-those-scurf-balls-could-have-come-from-in-the-valley.
• I still love the classes required for my major - feeling pretty great about that!
• Even better news, I am on track to graduate at the end of the Fall 2011 semester! WOOO!
• After doing some serious stressing about my dress, I've come to the decision... that I'm probably best off if I get something from DI, hash the crap out of it, and roll with whatever my creation turns out like. It's just not worth it, otherwise. Just. Not. Worth. It. 
• For all of those who are wondering, a six month engagement? Best idea either of us ever had. No seriously, I HIGHLY recommend it! I'm definitely a "take your time" kind of a girl. 
• Although it's not completed and Ben has yet to post a single thing (got to love it, right?), here's the newly created and greatly anticipated (hopefully) wedding site: http://www.thestanfields2011.blogspot.com/

That aught to wrap things up on my end... I'll be back at this soon! I'm sure my new co-workers will provide some serious people-watching opportunities! 

Fair thee well, sweet readers... 

Tryst me, I dare you.

What a long week... already.

Ben has been gone for a grand total of two, almost three, days. And I'd like to lay down and die at any moment, here. Sheesh. It's funny, I was talking to a girl at work, today, who has a missionary out (and coming home in 8 months! Woooo!) and she was asking why I was so despondent while talking about Ben and when I said that he's in Brazil for the next two weeks, I received an immediate "Oh BOOO!" I'm sure I deserved it, but seriously? I have a hard time going more than a day or two without seeing him... let alone talking to him. And while he's down there, he won't have his phone on and will only be checking his email every couple of days... Yaaaaaay. :( 

So, in order to make myself feel better, I'm going to explain to you why this sterling young man has stolen my heart through a series of happenings. (If you honestly don't care, feel free to stop reading now; I'll never know the difference?): 

• The first time he ever kissed me, previous to the mission, he leaned in... and kissed my right cheek. Looked into my eyes... and leaned in for the left. Looked into my eyes, once again, and finally placed his lips on mine. WOW. 
• Right after Ben was set apart, (yes, I went in... horrible idea) we decided to walk back to his house, together, one last time. Well, the entire time we had been dating, I'd try to convince him to sing to me, okay? Never happened. When does he decide to finally do it? At the exact moment my heart is being ripped out of my chest. What does he sing? "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles (Across the Universe version) - perfect, right when we can no longer hold hands. Ingenious... Well, at least he thought so. Okay, so it's not really a cute story, but he thinks he's pretty funny and I'm sure 50 years from now it will be... so I threw it in here, all the same.
• One day, summer of 2008, when I came home from a long day at work, I walked in to the biggest, most beautiful arrangement of calla lilies, my all-time favorite flower, just sitting on my kitchen table, awaiting my arrival. The note in the flowers simply read "Today, in Brazil, it's Valentines Day! Loving you so much, Ben" .... I cried, I'll be honest. And then my mom cried, I'll be honest. Such a good surprise!
• At one point in time, he suggested that we name our daughter... wait for it... "Penelo". ... Okay, so this may or may not have been one of those times when you throw your head back and laugh as deeply as your body allows and, between breaths exclaim, "Ah, how I love you! And how I love that you just fully turned over all child-naming-rights to ME! Hahahahaha"
• Being a Stanfield, and all, Ben's just about the master of loopholes, as is the rest of his family. Thus, it should come as no surprise that he found a rule, in the mission handbook, stating that missionaries were allowed two calls a year - one at Christmas and usually the other at Mother's Day. WELL, since he didn't have the opportunity to call at Mother's Day, he convinced his mission pres. that it'd be a good idea for him to call home on his birthday... Come to find out, over a year later, he actually did it largely because it'd allow us the chance to talk without him breaking mission rules. Loved that, haha. 
• I'm not going to go into too much detail on this next one, but the big surprise of him coming home... Who takes at least 6 months time to plan out exactly how they're going to surprise their girlfriend by coming home early off their mission?? 
• A couple of weeks ago, Ben came down to my apartment in Provo, and together we made breakfast. It started out with some light grocery shopping at Maceys, he then made us some amazing Swedish pancakes, and after that? Well... we just kind of... did nothing! It was FANTASTIC! Amazing, amazing. I love doing anything with him, even if it's nothing. We took a nap, eventually prepared his talk for church, the next day, did some dishes... and just kind of lolled about. At one point, he even was sweet enough to rub out the killer knots in my shoulders. Sigh. Love him. 
• Not that much later, as we were driving together from Provo back to SLC, he threw on some Electric Light Orchestra ("Evil Woman", "Telephone Line", "Mr. Blue Sky", etc) and began singing at the TOP of his lungs!! I mean... TOP of his LUNGS. Not to mention he'd let go of the steering wheel, every once in a while, to ring in some good cow bell - hahahahahaha. Sometimes, when I'm with him, I wonder if I can ever laugh harder... that night being one of those times. :) 
• For whatever reason, I really do love him more because of this, and don't get grossed out, but... he chews... on my armpits. I know, so weird, but it's just about the most ticklish thing anyone could ever do and he usually will pull it out when we're wrestling, causing him to win every time... Oh my goodness, I seriously crumple and die when he does that. It's horrendous... and hilarious, I'll be honest. 
• This past Tuesday, the night before he left for Brazil for two weeks, I asked him to talk me to sleep so I wouldn't cry the whole night long... and so he did. He stayed up until at least 1am, talking about nothing relevant, just to make sure that I'd fall asleep okay... Did I mention that he had to be at the airport at 6am, that morning? No? Well, he did. And he still sacrificed - for me. 

And now that my explosion of memories have (sort of) (temporarily) ceased... I don't know if this whole 'blogging about it' thing helped or hurt my case? Oh well, I love talking about him all the same. :) 

Before I forget! We went on a hike, together, the other weekend.... This is just one of many pictures captured on our way up the mountain. I think it might just be my favorite picture of us together, yet: 

T-t-t-t-t-t-TONIGHT, junior!

I've hit a new all-time low/high, I can't really decide which. Between working full-time and a boyfriend who lives in a different city, I haven't done all that much grocery shopping in the last month or two... And as a direct result, the food that I have remaining in my apt consists of your basic cooking materials, a couple boxes of cereal, some mac & cheese, bagels, and frosting.

So, here I sit, having spent the vast majority of my day inside, rearranging my new room, feeling a bit like a blob, and wondering what I ought to eat for dinner, seeing as how I have such a wide selection. What, you ask yourself, will she come up with tonight? One of my best and worst ideas since moving out of my parents' house two years ago: everything bagels dipped in cream cheese frosting. It's like the perfect blend of sweet and ... spicy? I have no idea as to which category the bagel part falls in, but it's honestly delicious. Hence the low and high point of my college existence - not only have I discovered a completely delicious and satisfying meal, I've also found one of the worst food combinations for your health... sugar, carbs, and more sugar with a little fat mixed in. Perfect. 

All I have to say for myself is... lucky Ben for getting to marry such a domestic and creative girl. :) 

eat THIS!

Sooooo... I'm sitting at work... thinking how I sounded like a Negative Nancy... and I decided that my readers deserved more than that, that you, my fellow human beings, were above such condescension! But what to say? I have nothing overly bubbly/cheerful to give... Ah crap.

AND THEN IT HIT ME!

I'm hungry... and more than likely, you, my darling reader, are American and therefore automatically hungry, so what better than a blog about fooooood?! And what tastier than sandwiches? That's right, nothing! A post about sandwiches, here I come!! :)

• 
  

• First and foremost, it's important to note that if you have a facebook account, it's imperative that you log in to your profile IMMEDIATELY and become a fan of Einstein Bagels. They have a special going on, right now, where you receive a coupon for a free bagel and shmear for becoming a fan of their page on facebook!! So hop to it! (No purchase necessary)
• Second, because I missed stopping off for my free piece of Heaven before work, today, I opted to instead lust after the pictures of some of my favorite bagel places... Voila.
• While lusting after the above picture (minus the bacon, of course) I realized that nothing in the world would satisfy more than a frigging panini, right about now. Which lead to... 
• Recipes!! Here's my personal favorite: 

• 1 Fresh pear sliced into long, thin pieces
• 1/4 of an onion, sliced (not diced, keep them whole)
• Approximately 1/4 cup of gorgonzola cheeze
• 1/8 cup of mozzarella cheese
• Pinch of garlic and Italian seasoning
• 
  
• Sprinkle a layer of the gorgonzola on one of the pieces of bread, followed by the onion and pear slices. 
• Carmelize your onions first, in a separate pan
• Lightly butter the bread on the outside
• Cover the newest ingredients with a layer of mozzarella, this will help them all stick together so your sandwich isn't quite so messy - kind of like food glue!
• Finally, add the top piece of bread and cook evenly on both sides on medium low heat. 
• Last, but not least, I'd like to make a public statement, now, that I have officially decided (surprise, surprise) that a bagel and cream cheese is my all-time favorite food (couple). So fantastic, so wonderful, so simple, so perfect. 

Yeahhhhhh... 

Attention, please.

Dear Indie-Kid-in-Film-Class-with-Stylishly-Greasy-Hair,

I realize that yes, you have done your time and put in the effort studying obscure facts, however! your meaningless rants on the authorial intent of the director in relation to the shots taken from the film we're discussing... is, again, simply a meaningless rant.

The next time you feel so compelled to correct the professor or perhaps exploit his ignorance on the camera equipment used in a two second shot of a freeway, keep in mind: I'm the only girl in the class without a wedding ring on... Your acting like an art genius snot is really winning you any points. Humorous, yes; impressive, no.

I look forward to spending the semester in your glowing presence,
Kelci

Per Request

I realize that I have an addictive personality... Sometimes, I see where this could become a problem, I do, I really do, but when Ashley "Japan" Stinocher asks you to keep blogging, you keep on blogging!! Hence the poised fingers, looming over the keyboard, and drawn eyebrows, evidence of the search for something profound to report on... 

Alas, I have nothing of any great significance to say. I would, however, like to take a moment to relate a couple points of gratitude: 

1. People you can't help smiling at - whether they be strangers or your best friend of 15 years, seeing that light in another's eyes is one of the most heart-warming things I've ever experienced. 

2. That initial bonding moment, sometimes over matching socks, sometimes over a failing test score, and sometimes because you both love Bento boxes. I love when humanity pulls together in the weirdest of tangents... 

3. A warm, sunny day succeeding a week of gray clouds and alligator tears/raindrops. 

4. Knowing that there is at least one person in the world who loves you with every particle of their being... even if it's your mom. :) 

5. Sincerity! I love that feeling sincere people plant inside of you... or that a piece of art expressing the truest sense of emotions... or a soft kiss when words can't say "I love you" quite the same. Amazing, amazing. 

6. The opportunity to watch two birds build their nest together, knowing that in a few short weeks, their family will have multiplied and perhaps a stray string from your t-shirt, the other day, contributed to their comfort.

7. Family. I just got off the phone with my parents who, I was just informed, decided to surprise me, tonight, by coming to Provo and taking me to dinner! Also, I talked with my sister, yesterday, and asked if I could go with her to her ward, next time I came home for the weekend... The pure excitement her voice held was more than I could have asked for! How can you deny that she loves you after she gets so pumped about not having to go to Relief Society alone, next week? 

8. I've said this aloud, a couple of times, before, but I feel like shouting it from the mountain tops, right now - I LOVE BEN! He has been, by and far, one of the greatest things to have happened in my life. He's shown me what true beauty looks like, how it feels to be loved unconditionally, and that sometimes, every once in a while, you can get pretty darn close to a fairytale ending, imperfections and all. 

9. LOVE!! I love love! Every sort of it - friend love, the way you love your dog, the love you feel when hugging your mom, the love you can't contain after watching your niece's dance recital, the way you love your companion, but especially the love we can all feel from God. All of it, every scrap, is so precious and beautiful, it's hard not to be grateful when contemplating it. 

10. This might sound odd, but the last thing I'm especially grateful for, today, is the opportunity to serve. It's hard to think of a time when I have ever felt better about the world than when I'm doing something for a fellow being, whether human or not. 

I love all of you! Hopefully you're enjoying this beautiful spring weather and are now contemplating all that you have to be grateful for, as well. :) 

Floorplan of my head and heart

So unoriginal, I realize that, but when words escape my lips and emotion weighs my heart, sometimes music is the only medium to convey the feelings. Such is the case, today. 

* * *

As I sped down I-15, on my way to Ben's homecoming, I passed a seemingly average bumper sticker on a pretty normal car, an inconspicuous driver at its wheel. It simply said, "Question Authority". I quietly laugh and shake my head as I switch lanes and exit, not really thinking on it any further... Maybe it got a "oh indie kids... aren't you cute? Look at you getting your liberal face on!" but nothing more. Not then, at least.

Sitting in sacrament meeting, doing my best to tune into the spirit of the meeting, the phrase comes back to my mind... "Question... Authority..." Usually I'd leave the anarchist statement as a sentiment of youthful, ignorant rebellion, but when it alighted in my left temporal lobe, this time the residual connotation was a more positive one -- the power in honestly, sincerely questioning the authority and world around us and eventually finding those pure sources in which you can trust infallibly. I think, for the first time, I saw how great of a gift we've been given, as humans, to decide for ourselves who and what to trust and when. The fact that we can cognitively process emotions and fleeting thoughts is amazing, especially in comparison to the rest of the world's breathing population. We've been given a gift, but who sees it? 

* * *

Like Tegan and Sara put it, "I built a wall of books between us in our bed". I do this so often, I get so close to completely letting someone in --  and cave, always a miniscule detail stepping in the way. I get so tired of shutting off, only to completely exhaust myself in trying to reverse the toxin. I think if it weren't for my patriarchal blessing, I might consider giving up the idea of marriage completely; I'm pretty sure any sort of stability doesn't have a place in my near future.

Is there a difference between volatile and abusive? Or can one not exist without the other? Can that deepest sense of darkly romantic love survive without their presence? Or is it considered settling, like Gigi from He's Just Not That Into You, when she goes on the date with the guy, Bill, at the very end and has nothing more than a mediocre time, but is more than willing to be with him because a relationship with him would be so even keeled? She doesn't stay with him, she goes back to the guy who rejected her as she "hurled her body onto his", and at the end, they're head-over-heels for one another... Is this Hollywood or reality? Which is healthier, a relationship, if drawn on an emotional graph, that resembles the jagged, flippant Rocky Mountains or the slow-rolling Adirondacks? 

More than anything, I think what I'd like to know is if anyone but God himself has answers. I don't trust science, it does nothing for me. Art, although it makes sense in my mind, makes a completely different statement to the person standing next to me. Who is to say what is what? 

* * *

Isn't it ironic that equations that, more than likely, took hundreds of years for great scholars to put together, a third grader learns in the matter of a week? How frustrated they must be, watching from Heaven, as the future generation of tomorrow learns, in a lone week of frustration, the capabilities and functions of a sigma or polynomial that took them years to perfect and understand.  

Walking on a Dream

I'm assuming the anticipation is killing all of you and you're more than likely in desperate need of an update. Well, I'm about to give you one. Brace yourselves.

So my little friend that I pass every Monday and Wednesday on the upper road that leads to Institute parking has been pretty consistent, although I haven't. Classes and things have been getting pretty crazy and my schedule pretty demented, thus I miss our weekly pass-by.

Maybe I'm just indulging my imagination on this one, but I'm pretty sure that at about the same time that I stopped walking to my car at the same time as she headed to class, she's seemed a bit more schlumpy than usual, her gait a bit less... jovial. Naturally, I feel quite terrible. Clearly her lack of enthusiasm is a direct result of my actions. (What was the definition of egocentric, again?)

As I leave class today and head up the steps leading to the roadside, I see her coming and think fast - today... I'll... be... extra outgoing! That'll show her I still want to be friends! :D Okay, plan set. Let's do this. She approaches my line of sight... She's not looking up... No one is around to feel embarrassed about... Here she comes... I can hear the gravel scratching with each of her steps... Moment's approaching! Anxiety killing me... I start with the biggest smile I can muster!! ... Aaaand... she's still not looking at me... Oh, wait! there she is! Looking! Okay, I'm just going to do it: "HI!"

Oh no... From the deer-in-the-headlights look she's giving me, I realize that I'm smiling the way a gorilla does right before it tears the flesh off your bones. My outburst of friendship probably didn't help things, either. Sigh. Until Wednesday... Maybe if I'm extra gentle in my approach, she'll reconsider admitting me to the state mental hospital.

Once and for all!

I swore that if I had to tell this story one more time, I would strangle myself. So, I'm putting it on here for the general public and my sanity. :)

About a year and a half ago:

In a letter that I received in the mail, Ben informed me that he'd be returning about a week short of the full two years, coming home on April 14th compared to the April 23rd he left on. From that day forward, I had banked on him arriving in the Salt Lake valley on Wednesday, April 14, 2010.

Six months ago:

Ben finds out that his final transfer will last 5 weeks instead of 6. At this point in time, he tells everyone of the updated schedule - except for me. It's at about this time that they all go in cahoots with one another on how to pull off surprising me.

One month ago:

Our (Ben and my) best friend, Katie, asks for a "one last girl's night" before Ben gets home and she marries Braedon in May. Naturally I agree to dinner and the date is set for April 8. We also agreed that, since at this time of the year with finals and such, we never get ready past showering and brushing our teeth, we'd actually get all the way ready - makeup, hair done, even cute dresses.

April 8, 2010:

Okay, here's where the real story begins!

I wake up fairly early that morning, finish some last-minute assignments and run to class. This entire week my kids at work have had Spring Break so, naturally, I'm off of work, as well. When class is finished, I take care of some things around campus, come home, and hit the books again (or laptop, shall we say, since I was, after all, writing papers for the majority of the time I was home). I get completely carried away in the paper that I'm writing and forget about getting ready for my date with Katie. I don't shower. Instead, I braid my hair into two pigtails, throw on jeans and a t-shirt, and call it good!

I get to the class that Katie and I share, later that night, and pure disappointment washes over her face - can you blame her? I looked like a scrounge! She immediately begins insisting that before we go to dinner, we go back to my apartment and I change so that she doesn't feel as silly being the only one in a dress.

Class ends and we head back to Raintree. During the drive, Braedon (Katie's fiance) keeps texting her... Getting embarrassed, she turns to me and says, "Sorry! Obviously Braedon's especially needy, today!" I'm still not expecting anything, not a thread of suspicion running through my mind.

Once at the apartment, I change into a dress and begin pulling the braids out. Almost in concern, Katie says, "Do you want to wait and straighten your hair before we leave?" "Nahhhhhh!!" "Okay... Well... do you maybe want to put on some make up, then? You can, we have time!" Again, my response is "Nahhhhh!!!" For the third time, she asks if I'd like to shave my legs, saying that she had shaved hers for the momentous occasion. You'd think I'd have caught on, by now, but nooooo! I answer, again, with a resounding "no". 

Finally, we get to the restaurant, Guru's, on Center St. in Provo. Katie and I walk in, order our food, find a table, and start talking wedding plans - a pretty serious topic of discussion, these days! When I sat down, I just happened to sit facing the door, not really thinking anything of it, expecting Katie to sit across from me like most normal people do. But she doesn't. She slides in on the bench, next to me. Odd? Conversation picks up like normal, and as I'm describing a pair of Converse that I found, I happen to glance towards the door, looking for that inspiration of color to match the coveted shoes with. As I did so, I saw a guy walk in who looked an awful lot like Ben! I turn to Katie to tell her I found a doppelganger, before I open my mouth, I whip back around for a double-take, realization settling in. This was no look-alike, this was the real deal. It was at this point that I passed out. (Okay, not really, but I sure felt like it! I can't, however, remember what happened for the next five or so minutes, so the following is actually Ben's rendition of the story.) 

Ben walks in, Braedon trailing close behind, camera in hand, recording the whole thing, Katie dies laughing at the table, and I... sit there speechless. Literally. My jaw hung open for a good couple of minutes before I regained enough muscle control to close it, again. Evidently the only thing I could manage at first was "Whaaa? Whaaa?? I... I don't understand! Wh... Whe... Where did you come from?!" to which I got a very innocent, "Brazil!" He even had to pull me up from the table for a  hug, I was so dumb-founded. It took a while but I eventually regained consciousness, just in time for the waitress to politely interrupt, asking what was going on. All I could get out was, "This... is my missionary. He comes home, next week! Or... so I thought." 

When I stopped shaking enough that I could hold a phone without dropping it, they had me call my mom. The conversation went something like this: 

"Mom?"

"I'm in a meeting, I can't talk!"

"Mom! It's important. I have to tell you who I'm with."

"What? Who? Make it fast, I'm in a meeting!"

"Mom... I'm here with Ben..."

"Who?"

"Ben!"

"Ben who??"

"Ben Stanfield!" 

"WHAT?! What is he doing HOME??"

Things started settling down just in time for them  to expose one more hidden plan: everyone was dressed up because we were all actually headed to a wedding, and I was Ben's date. We all went out to the cars, and as I was pulling my stuff out of Katie's car to transfer to Ben's, I turn around to him holding a beautiful, beautiful bouquet of flowers, loaded down with calla lillies, my all-time favorites. 

I didn't want to drive all the way into SLC with the vase between my legs so we drop them off at my apartment. We awarded my roommate Jessica with the reaction of the evening - after begging her to come out of her room, and upon first sight of Ben, (she had no idea who was waiting in the front room) yelled at the top of her lungs "OH! MY! GOSH!!!" She couldn't stop shaking, either. (The rest of my roommates found out moments later, each one of them taking their turns between screaming, crying, laughing, and screaming again. They're such good girls, I couldn't ask for a better support network! Lol)

So, we go to the reception, his parents are the first people we see, his mom running up to us with arms already open in anticipation of hugs.  After a while we head back to his parents' house and watch the first post-mission movie - "Over the Hedge". (His choice!) At the end of the night, he drives me back to my apartment in Provo, he meets the rest of my roommates, and we say goodnight, face-to-face, for the first time in two years. 

I haven't gotten the pictures from Katie and Braedon, yet, but when I do, I'll post them with the rest of the story. As for now, though, I think I'm going to go enjoy the time I have with my boy, again. :)

Sweet Reverie

time, distance closing in...
finger prints melding,
eyes sweeping
a momentary flutter and
a feather brushing across lips
looking in, falling through time
eternity never seemed so close
riveting eye to eye
this churning, 
Could it be love?

The World Around Us

As I sit on campus and look around, I can't help but laugh... I know it makes some people feel uncomfortable, but human tendencies are just too funny, it's just too much to resist. For example: 


- Quaint sneezes from 200+ lbs men. 
- When those with big noses cover them while talking.
- Those couples that... just... can't... let go. (for an hour and 15 minutes)
- The guy that never grew out of the awkward, junior high phase of walking/running who is now sprinting down the main hallway. 
- When no one laughs at someone who, evidently said something witty, laughs at their own joke for at least 3-5 seconds after staking their claim. 
- Untouchable English professors either spelling something wrong or using incorrect semantics.
- Contradictory statements. Said by the same person.  
- Anything followed up with, "I could be wrong, I don't know everyone in the Universe."
- The girl that you've never spoken to, before, and have no idea who she is, and yet, she waves to you every time you pass one another. 






Other things, however, make me question the world we live in: 


- When someone openly admits that they "like to live in fear but is afraid of fear."
- Or when another proudly claims that they are "intentionally naiveté".
- A public refusal to love another human being, or care, even in the slightest. 
- When people laugh at another's suffering.
- A sense of desperation, so strong, that one feels as though they are forced to break the law in order to meet basic needs. 
- Watching the realization that they can make a difference sweep across a face... then never acting upon the feeling. 

Denial - The Next Happiest Place on Earth.

"I've got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget. I've got a perfect body because my eyelashes catch the sweat."

 

Herumph. I feel like... I need to blog. Like, actually blog. Not because I necessarily have anything profound to say or because I just went through some spectacular experience that really needs to be recorded (although my birthday celebrations were pretty epic, and probably deserve a post)... I just feel... this craving for one. It's times like these that make me question if I'm not as big of a freak as the other 7th graders made me feel like, back in junior high. I swear to you, I'm not normal, probably ought to be medicated, and am just sort of... wandering... down this path of life. Anyways, I think I'm going to post in series of bullets, which, if I had to guess, are going to turn out to be some sort of maniacal version of free association. In other words, my posts are usually pretty obscure/off-the-wall... but this one is destined to put the others to shame. Just saying (warning).

• I've always thought red-heads were really pretty... but recently, there has been this strange obsession with them that I just don't understand. Like, if a girl with an average face is naturally a red-head, BAM! That girl is hotttttt. I'm not even kidding, it always plays out like that. Or, better yet, if she can be called generally pretty and has red hair? Oh my pants, that girl is... like... STUNNING. Not that I have a problem with this, I understand that I'm pretty average in every way, shape, and form (outside of my height, which still isn't that different) and am not calling for any undeserved attention for my oh so common brown hair. I would, however, like to pose a question: are red-heads so appreciated, recently, because of this whole 'indie' kick that the world has been addicted to, recently? Because we've begun embrassing the subversive, again? Or is it because diversity is so widely celebrated, now, that caucasians are starting to feel left out and are trying to find a reason to celebrate their own blandness, now? Either way, I kind of feel like red-heads are getting the short-end of the stick -- no one is looking to them for their personalities, just their super hot heads (no pun intended). Well, hot heads first, big personalities second?
• Also, why can't we celebrate having small, flat, colorless butts? Why is a bubble-butt so appealing? I'd like to think that the little miniature that I'm packing around behind me, all day long, can be loved as well, just like it is.
• As much as I love indie stuff, I'm really, really getting sick of indie kids. In all honesty, they've become the new brunt of all of my jokes... And I'm loving every second of it. :) I know, whatever, I'm a terrible person. Judge away. But next time you're around, and I make a "oh, I'm only doing this to be indie" joke, and you laugh, just think back to that one time when you read my blog and judged me for being a cynic... 
• I really dig the keyboards on Macs. I also really dig Macs, just in general. 
• I'm increasingly worried, each day, that I'm a product of my society and that's about it. But then, I start thinking about it, and I start worrying even more when I realize that I'm nothing like what the society I was raised in projected me to be. Well, not exactly nothing, I guess... but not at all like what my parents expected me to be like, that's for sure... and the rest of my family, as well, on that note. I spent this past week in NY, hanging out with the fam every day, and realized just how much of a peculiarity I really am. Maybe I'm giving myself too much credit, but when I stepped into that restaurant, the first night, in a light gray cardigan, oxford blue button-up, and skinny jeans, with zipper flats, it was fairly safe to say that I. Stuck. Out. Which is fine, it's pretty apparent that Upstate isn't exactly the most trend-friendly place on earth... but then, I come back to Utah, and I still don't fit in, entirely. Maybe I'm looking in all of the wrong places for acceptance, who knows. I've dealt with this problem from the first time I remember -- I couldn't have other little girls in the neighborhood play Barbies with me, they simply couldn't follow the sardonic plotlines I'd set up -- and I thought, for sure, after junior high, I'd find that group I belong to... okay, once I'm out of high school, I find it. Aaaaalright, maybe college will do the trick? Wow, umm, I'm fitting in more than ever, but still not as much as the ordinary college student? Perhaps this is my cross to bear, in life -- no one ever entirely understands me. I'll admit, some get awfully close, but never quite all the way. Which brings me to my next point.
• I'm an oddity, I recognize the fact, please don't act like I'm completely transparent. And just about as understandable as a third grade-reading-level novel. I'm not, I promise. Half the time, those that assume such things are way, way off the mark, I'm sorry to report. And yes, sometimes, you've got me pinned. I'll admit to that, my pride has room to adjust.
• I've fallen in love with someone just as twisted as myself... and I love him for it. It's incredible, we're such freaks, it makes life that much more sunny. (There's not a shred of sarcasm in that last statement, I'm being serious. The fact that we're both so weird really does warm my heart.) I am worried, however, about our children. I've posted, before, about the idea of raising them to stay within the bounds of social norms and whether or not it's healthy... but I just don't know. Subject them to the same awkward moments as I grew up with? Or rear them to be that douchebag baseball player that everyone secretly hates but outwardly adores because they're just so cooooool with their $300 jeans and ridiculous, logo-covered hats that they've left the stickers on? I'm so curious as to how my kids turn out, I won't lie. Maybe you should all start praying for them now. Just in-case. 
• Perhaps this is way off base... Maybe there's not a shred of truth to it at all, but men are jerks. No, just ignorant, which, coincidentally, makes them jerks. Really, really dense jerks. I'm tired of girls crying about what a guy did or didn't do... I'm tired of being ignored or pushed to the side... and above all, I'm tired of the world thinking that feminist and equality issues have been beaten to death and are merely things of the past, now - NOT TRUE! Again, ignorance.
• Call me crazy, but I hate overly-gentlemen-like men. They gag me. You gag me. Again, equality. I can step over a puddle without you lifting me over it, first. Thanks, but no thanks. Oh, and that door up ahead? I can open it, I've been working out, recently. I can max-out with ten pound weights, now. That's right, this girl is in the big leagues.
• If you've just celebrated your 45th birthday, maybe it's time to stop wearing your daugther's Volcom t-shirts? Just a suggestion, you don't have to take my word for it. 
• As much as I love adventure and all it entails, I have the most obscure phobias. 
• I spotted this guy, last year, on UVU's campus, as I was talking to my sister... He had beautiful strawberry blonde, curly hair and this really quirky style of dressing. If I had any sort of stuffing, I probably would have found a reason to talk to him, but I don't, so I didn't. But the image of him walking past really stuck with me, for a long time... There was this really poetic moment of him walking past the big windows in the library, the sunlight streaming in, highlighting the individual curls, almost as if they were begging me to play with them, wrap them around my finger (much like his heart) - in other words, Whitman would have been proud with the feelings it stirred up. Anyways, I didn't see him around for months, and yet, he stuck with me, I couldn't figure out why... I mean, you see hundreds of different people each day, you know? Most of which, you forget... Well, long story short, after months of not seeing him again, I did. And then I did again. And again. And again. And now he frigging pops up everywhere. As a matter of fact, as I turned my head, a moment ago, for another bullet point, he was sitting less than 50 feet away, talking to some plastic, yet indie (let's not forget that - that makes them artistic after all) girls that probably spent more time getting ready this morning than I have all week. Not that I think he's my EC (eternal companion) or that we're even meant to be friends, for whatever reason, he just makes me wonder if someone else, anyone else, has had a similar experience? Where there was this picturesque second where they saw a complete stranger in which the foreigner became the muse to a new, flowing poem that was never written down on anything but their heart? Have I ever inspired that sort of thing?? Dang, now I feel like I need to start getting ready in the mornings. It seems like that's my only means of hope to accomplishing said feat. Hahaha
• Update to my theory class: Deconstructionalist theory is probably my favorite, thus far. Yes, it's fairly... destructive... and yes, it can invalidate you as a reader... but my goodness, it's fascinating. And realistic. Yeah, it's pretty great. My major is pretty great, I won't lie. :)
• Everyone has been counting down and/or asking when Ben is getting home, so here you go: 
• He is home on April 14th.
• I have no idea when he flies in. Or when he's set apart.
• No, I'm not going to the airport -- I wouldn't be caught dead, there.
• Yes, I'm allowing him to come to me, here in Provo. I can be patient when it really counts. :)
• As of today, he is home in 21 days.
• Yes I'm terrified, no I'm not getting "so excited", and yes, this whole thing makes me want to throw up. There are way too many emotions attached to be healthy.
• Yes, you guessed it, I'll probably cry when I first see him, again.
• Yes, we still write, are on good terms, and still exchange the "L-word" ... And mean it. :)

Okay, I'm finally done. Congrats on making it through. I have a gold sticker, for you, whenever you want to come over and get it.

Dating Questionaire

Researcher: How often, would you say, that you are rejected by men?


Woman: What? Where'd that come from? Do I look like a person to get rejected a lot to you, or somethin'?


Researcher: No, ma'am. Please, just answer the question.


Woman: Do I get rejected a lot? Nah... Nah, I can definitively say, 'Nah,' I don't. I don't get rejected...


(Pause)


Woman: Okay, well.. Yeah, I do, on occassion, but doesn't everyone? I mean, I'm not God, or something... Or even Tyra, for that mattuh! (Snorts while giggling)


Researcher: Shall we move onto the next question? Are you satisfied with your last response?


Woman: Should I not be? Do I not sound like I'm being honest? (Getting flustered) Okay, yeah, I'm not really the dating type, big deal! But that don't automatically mean that I get rejected... You know, I'm attractive... I can get a date - if I really want to! Yeah... Yeah, I can.


(Another pause)


Woman: Alright, I get rejected more than I get asked out, happy? My mutha says I come on too strong, whateva. I still get asked out, I'll have you know.


Researcher: Ma'am? Shall we move onto the next question?


Woman: (Growing increasingly frustrated) Okay, what kind of a timeline are we talkin' about, here? I mean, if you're talkin' about... say... the last three years, yeah, I haven't really been datin', you know? These things happen! But before that? Yeah, yeah I was a dating machine! A sex kitten, if you know what I mean. (More laughter and then a pause) Alright, no, I don't date. Alright? You happy? You dragged it outta me, got what you wanted. Can we move on, now??


Researcher: Of course, ma'am. Let's move to the next question.


Woman: (Breathing out heavily while rolling eyes) Thank you. Finally.

Welcome to Eternity.

How do you tell a child, 
"You'll never see him again..."
And make them understand? 
Is there a way to decipher 
Good tears from bad? 
Can you know that at such a young age? 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AHZCAcSh7ls

Break that norm

As taught in psychology, society dictates our daughters to be sweet, soft, innocent - feminine. Well, at least what they define feminine as. And if that's not what you are? ... You'll probably be titled as 'different', maybe as a 'tom-boy', sometimes even something a bit more piercing like 'dike' or 'lesbian'. Growing up outside of societal norms is tough going, usually damaging to the girl's self-esteem and paradigms of the world, and more often than not, inhibits her from reaching the point of self-actualization.

I began thinking, though... Women and girls, alike, who choose this lifestyle for themselves are typically and universally rejected... but what about the mothers who such behavior? Is there such a thing? Are these mothers persecuted as well? Above all, though, is it healthy to want your daughters to be this way?

As I watched a Tegan and Sara music video, where one of the girls is psychoanalyzed to the point of drowning, in the end, I started to question how I really wanted my daughters to turn out, in life. For those of you who don't know, Tegan and Sara are twin sisters who are both lesbians (not together) and have formed the self-titled group, "Tegan and Sara". They're both pretty liberal and fairly masculine in appearance... but I love it/them.

I never thought I'd want any of my children to be anything but what they really were, which, without consideration automatically registers as fulfilling the gender role they're handed at birth. Tonight, though, after watching that video, I realized: I don't want my kids, especially my daughters, to feel anything but the truth. Above all, the truth held in their hearts, the real them. If this means they're a frilly ballerina decorated head-to-toe in pink or a basketball star who only wears jersey shorts, so be it. If they want to shave their hair into overgrown mullets like Tegan and Sara, I guess I'm okay with that, too. Is that wrong of me? To cognitively allow my children to be something that society will most likely reject, quite possibly sentencing them to a life of constant berating by those around them? Or would it be better to force them into a life of silent suffering, much like the women of every generation since the beginning of time? Is there a greater evil, a better rather than a best? Am I under moral obligation to steer my children down a path society chose for them?

Weight of It All

by Matt Nathanson


i'm weak when you miss me
when you roll me on your tongue..
when you whisper me your best moves
i almost believe you
but you don't know me at all

i'm covered by lovers,
who recite lines
convinced their bodies
are gonna save mine
but you don't know me at all..

show me where the sun comes through the sky
i'll show you where the rain gets in
and i'll show you hurricanes
and the way that summer fades
underneath the weight of it all
...the weight of it all


i spent days stupid nailed to your floor
and i spent nights pushed against you, baby
trying to keep warm
but you don't know me at all.

show me where the sun comes through the sky
i'll show you where the rain gets in
and i'll show you hurricanes
and the way that summer fades
underneath the weight of it all

show me where the sun comes through the sky
i'll show you where the rain gets in
and i'll show you hurricanes
and the way that summer fades...
underneath the weight of it all

...show me,
show me where the sun comes through the sky
i'll show you where the rain gets in
and i'll show you hurricanes
and the way that summer fades

so you can pick me up just to put me down again

underneath the weight of it all
...the weight of it all

Centripetal Force

Lying limp, washed up 
Sitting on the sink's side
Soiled from repetitive use... 
Destroyed through time. 


Corners are fraying,
Threadbare and discolored
Evidence of habitual scrubbing centered,
Framing the core.


It's about time, now, they say
Eyes large and hollow
Time to replace that old thing... 
It's done, the interim ended.
No regret, there, no regret in eyes wide open
Shutters drawn so tightly
No regret... only disdain, disregard.


Washed up and used, 
Tribulation illustrated through 
The patchy thread-work... 
Purpose seemingly gone and tired 
Pay no heed, they mean no harm. 
They know not what they do. 

Lemon Drops

How is it that one group of people can entirely steal refracted light? 

Pretty greedy, Gays, pretty greedy. 

- Demitri Martin

Personally

You claim an outstanding genius

You claim far-reaching love

Theory says to use "I"

But with you there's never room

There's never that place for me

Only a synthetic whole, 

A bore deep into what you claim is your heart.

You speak of sunrises and warmth

There are moments of touch

Not all with me... 

Most not with me. 

You feel the physical when this,

What we have goes beyond

Your imagination couldn't put this into words

There's no dark cave to search in, this time. 

These professions of love might put me over

Breaking your heart might be the end of what we know... 

But perhaps, on an off chance

This isn't the end for either of us

Or at least.... not for me. 

How long before you make that definite decision? 

How long before your hand is forced? 

Evolution. 

Evolution. 

Are you really evolving? Or is it all in your closed-off mind? 

Don't fake who you are

I'm not fooled by your images

This facade is nothing more

I don't want your change, anyways

You say there's protection in your arms

Why, then, does my stomach coil to be there?

The contents of all abandon with that cold warmth

Hand on my neck, hand on my hand

Nothing feels closer to The Void than your presence

I'd hope for the cracking of your bones to bring me pleasure

But I know I'd be asking too much

Even in asking you to stop

It's always too much

For now, I'll flush you away

The memories, your words

Drowning in pristine white they float on

And as I walk over the canals they now inhibit

I smile.

So much more is in store, 

Perhaps that's one more thing you'll never comprehend.

My heart is elsewhere... 

But no where near the submerged filth of your world.

This love reaches a new plane, 

One you can't touch. 

One I can't not touch. 

I can be your surmise
But you're right... 
I am your affliction, not your affection

You claim so much

But you claim me. 

Don't you see? 

"You can do better than me... 

But I can't do better than you."

Spinach Salad With Strawberries

Spinach Salad With Strawberries (<--- You'll need this link to get the recipe that I'm talking about...)


I was thinking about "Julie and Julia", today, and Jessica's new push for us to start pretending we're really a couple (as in practice for marriage) by cooking/shopping together... so I start looking up these recipes, right? Well I don't know if this is what I'm going to be making for dinner, tonight, but it's definitely coming within the next week!


I'll keep you all posted on what I'll be making and how they've turned out.. Who knows, maybe, at the end, I'll wind up with a best-seller, too. :)





PS Pretty sure tonight will be the Garlic Asparagus & Pasta with a Lemon Cream Sauce.... Bon apetit!

Butterflies in Springtime

I'm so in love... :) I totally downloaded google chrome - so cool. And Ben's email today... Oh geez. :) :) Yeaaaah, life's pretty good. I have to admit. :) My goodness, I have freaking butterflies in my kneeeeee caps! And Jess is totally coming to class with me, today... Which I'm super stoked about! I seriously am so in love with my theory class. It's so fantastic. AND, I haven't really been getting excited about this whole "Ben's coming home!" thing... not because I don't want him to, but rather because it just hasn't really set in, you know? But it totally did, today!! Totally... did. :) Oh man, 7 weeks. That's... out of control! Sheesh! I'm so excited. :) APRIL 14th!!!!!!!!!!!! Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Oh, and this was the email: 

"hahah so anywho, still having the best time of my life. im glad that carnaval is over with... it makes las vegas look like a tea party with your little sister that pretends that she has a pet lamb and tickles her own face with a worm... yeah... thats how bad it is... but dont worry, we stayed inside like we were grounded or something... lol it was great."

As much as that makes me mad that he said it, I can't help but want to die of love overdose. :)

This Sabbath day, This life of mine

I don't have anything necessarily profound to say, so there's no real need to "brace yourself"... but I do plan on being quite candid. So, if you're reading this posting without my having had asked you to read it specifically, and feel as though you have been implied in the following reading, well, it's your own fault if you get offended. It is my blog, after all. And, of course, no harm was intended.

A good friend of mine recently divulged his unspoken, romantic feelings, to me - for me. I swear, I didn't see it coming and the news kind of hit like a mack truck... I mean, how am I so blind, sometimes? But, alas, there's no changing the past, so on to the future it is. Which is exactly what I wanted to talk about: the future.

Yesterday, after the Shakespearean confession had already taken place, I went to lunch with another friend who's pretty well removed from the situation, or at least enough so that I trust his opinion, when he gives it, to be unbiased. I told him the entire story from front to back, covering a large portion of the details and sort of just let him counsel from there... But here's the great part: I'm deeply religious, not something that I really try to hide, but sometimes something I forget to rely upon. Prime example: yesterday's lunch conversation; I was seeking out the opinion on another man instead of the supreme being upon whom I need to rely. Don't worry, He outfoxed the fox - as we (Gabe and I) are talking, various lines from my patriarchal blessing come rushing into my mind, all of which directing me in ways I never expected about my dating life. It was literally one of those lightbulb moments you always hear about but never experience - and I'll tell you what, it's madness when you finally do! Haha

It's really funny, when I finally had the appointment to get my blessing, the bishop told me to pray for the revelation to answers that I felt I needed, so I did. I prayed for at least two weeks straight to: 1. know what God would have me do with the rest of my life, what direction to take it in, and 2. more than anything, I needed some sort of something to tell me about my spouse (I may or may not have prayed for his name... Oh, silly, silly girl). I couldn't help but get disappointed, with that in mind, when I finally was given my blessing to hear one solitary line describing my spouse. ONE. I mean, it was definitely a good one, one that I couldn't even fully comprehend, at the time, but ONE!! Seriously?! What kind of an answer is that? God's answer, that's what. They weren't kidding when they said that He answers on his terms, not ours. Sheesh.

Well... the years passed and I started dating. I was still convinced that the thing was inexplicably vague and that God had decided that it was up to my discretion to find a mate - wooohoo. (Complete sarcasm, there.) Now for the climax... as I started dating with the honest intent of dating for marriage, (thank you, Provo) I began to realize, not everyone fit this one description. As a matter of fact, hardly anyone fit it! Okay, okay... Good to note, right? So I start looking for guys who did fit... and I found one. I was so happy. Like... sooo happy. But something wasn't quite right... so I go back to the drawing board (the blessing) and go over the plan again. It hits me, in that one description, there's actually another, hidden way back in the back, one that I had previously overlooked. And this new guy doesn't fit, anymore - instantaneous heartbreak.

Again, I begin my searching... this time with the two new requirements. I look, I seek, I try; nothing. Well, there were some... but those were largely playmates, only. Sorry, boys, sometimes the truth hurts. :) Which brings me to this past weekend! I date around, right? For 20 years, I look for someone to call my own for eternity, and I find one. One. One that fits every detail... right down to every misfitting detail, even. But I'm not satisfied, there has to be more, maybe even one better, right?

I go to church, this morning, and listen patiently to the talks... They're on repentance so I tune-in, figuring that the moment you don't feel as though you need the counsel, you need it more than ever. The first two speakers deliver what they have to say, I'm still not moved to any extreme degree, but am feeling the Spirit, so not all is lost. Then, the choir stands up and performs this song that I've heard many a times... my roommate Jessica is absolutely in love with it; it's pretty, and it's wonderful, but I guess I'd never really listened to the lyrics, fully. This time, though, I did... And I cried. It was Rob Gardner's "My Kindness Shall Not Depart From Thee", and I don't think another church song has impacted me quite the same way. In a few words, it talks about how sometimes it seems as though Heavenly Father "hides his face" from us, where we feel as though we're disconnected from his presence, and thus is revelation. And I felt that way, oddly enough. I didn't realize it, but that's what I had been feeling! Heavenly Father was having me struggle for reasons unbenounced to myself and I almost felt I hadn't been forgotten, but rather that he was ignoring the dating part of my life... 

I found yet another testimony builder, today, in the least expected moment. But more than anything, I found that He loves me enough to keep me away from destructive relationships... gives me the strength to stay away from selfish tendencies, and that he cares, pure and simple. I am so loved, I just fail to see the full dimensions of it, sometimes, much like I did with my patriarchal blessing. Although it doesn't seem this way, nine times out of ten, we are all loved more than we ever see or think possible. I just find it funny the times/places/ways God reminds us of said love.