1 Down -- 26 to Go -- Bring it On

Two weeks ago today, I awoke early and donned the first of my 27 dresses. I buckled my shoes, secured my headband, smoothed my crisp silk skirt and walked out the door with a smile on my face, ready for whatever the day might bring.
That night I returned with a splitting headache, dress crumpled and torn, metallic heels dangling from one limp hand and a beautiful bouquet of pink flowers clutched desperately in the other. I collapsed in a hunchbacked heap on the kitchen floor and vowed to stay there all night long.



So, despite feeling totally incapacitated the following day, I thoroughly enjoyed my experience as a bridesmaid. I absolutely loved it. If that were a paid position, I think I could make some serious bank at it.

Add it to my list of talents, will you?
File it with handwriting, eating 5 cheeseburgers
in one sitting, and mimicking people to their faces.

For those of you who are unaware of how wearing a stereotypically ugly dress (not for me, I got lucky) and posing for pictures can be so exhausting, allow me to enlighten you as to the duties one may be asked to perform.


*NOTE: Subject to change due to bride's preference and the aforementioned bridesmaid's availability/relationship to said bride. Restrictions apply. Void where prohibited.*

Pre-Wedding-Day Responsibilities
- RSVP in the affirmative *Must be present to redeem prizes*
- get to know the groom
- wedding consultant -- colors, themes...
- stylist -- go dress shipping with her
- party planner -- bridal shower, bachelorette party
- give her lingerie
- florist -- in case of last-minute flowers fiascoes
- get a mani/pedi with her
- shipping and handling -- help her pack her for the honeymoon as well as the stuff she'll be moving to her new home (her mind will be elsewhere)
- make sure she gets a good night sleep the night before -- we want her fresh-faced and well-rested on her big day

Day of the Wedding
- model -- wear the dress she picked for you, and be happy about it =]
- nephew transport and wardrobe
- photographer -- take pictures all day with her camera so she has something to look at later
- make sure she looks picture-perfect at all moments -- bobby pins, hairspray, teeth checks, oil wipes, etc...
- bouquet holder
- guest book assembly
- mud removal brigade -- don't want her pretty shoes getting yucky
- train maintenance -- carrying, bustling, holding it while she goes to the bathroom
- nourishment committee -- make sure she eats and stays hydrated; if necessary, feed her between greeting guests in the reception line
- obtain bouquet at any cost -- if you have to hip-check her 8-year-old cousin out of the way, so be it. just catch it.
- sparkler distribution -- for their joyous getaway





What I should be doing: updated Ben's blog, putting away my clean clothes, homework...
What I'm listening to: iron and wine, lady antebellum, and of course lady gaga

Nothing

Nothing
Can ruin the good
Clean feeling after taking a shower
Like...
Taking a Big
Stinky
Poop.
Nothing.

the end.

Disclaimer

Dear Reader,

We regret to inform you that the previous post has been falsely represented. Said blog post was not actually posted on my birthday, March the twelfth; dramatic license was taken in order to create the desired effect. We appreciate your understanding in this matter and offer our sincerest apologies for the aforementioned discrepancy. We offer you further reading found in Attachment "A" as compensation for any emotional turmoil you may have experienced as a result of this lie.

Thank you,
The Management





Attachment A

Now that it's almost April, I feel the need to evaluate last year and set some goals for myself for the year to come (January is overrated). I would have to say 2009 was not a good year. Definitely not ideal. A lot of undesirable things occurred.

But I did learn one valuable lesson firsthand: life is not what you expect it to be.

We all have our expectations for every situation and reality rarely complies with our pre-ordered wishes as is excellently illustrated in a clever little scene from (500) Days of Summer pictured here (please pardon the random foreign subtitles -- it was the only clip I could find that included the whole thing):

Expectations vs. Reality (500) Days Of Summer.

Yup, that's how I think this whole year went for me. With my family moving, me staying here in California for the school year, and a million other things, reality definitely had fun playing some little tricks on me.

Good things came too though. A lot of wonderful people have come into my life and I have had many opportunities open up for me as a result of the events of 2009. I was able to try a lot of new things as well. Here's a little sampling of last year's new adventures:

went to a bar (being 21 and all)
drove in the snow
took a class at the Salt Lake Center
donated my hair
drew blood
played some slots (again, 21)
changed spark plugs & shocks on my truck
ate Armenian food
sang in church (not in a choir)
worked while going to school
climbed Mt Boney
rewired the distributor in my truck
served jury duty
went out to one of the channel islands
joined a book club
went to an Angels game
completed Physics 105 via Independent Study

Ok, maybe not the most exciting list ever, but I'm pretty proud of most of these accomplishments and I have a secret for you... (Next year's list is going to be even better!)



Until next time amigos!




What I should be doing: sleeping, I have work at 8 in the AMs
What I'm listening to: Ke$ha, Juliana Theory, Arcade Fire, Regina Spektor
What I wish I was doing: raiding the "desserts and drinks only" fridge with my Jenny

Forever 21 is a Lie

Well, I am now 22 years old.
No longer young, hot, fresh, Forever 21.
No, I am now just boring, responsible, should-be-graduated-by-now, old 22.




Happy birthday to me...

I Change My Clothes in My Car Because I Have To

I feel like my thoughts are little Mexican jumping beans bouncing around inside my skull. They've been trying to get out for a while now, but with school and three jobs (count em, three), I have devoted my mind entirely to trying to find a way to squeeze something else into my day. When am I going to eat? When am I going to get gas, or pay that bill? Do I have the shoes I need for tonight's wardrobe change? Where is my physics book? When was the last time I washed my hair? The mundane logistical thoughts have pushed these poor ignored deeper thoughts so far away and scattered them so far that I fear I may have lost some of them. Some have ventured to other parts of my body in search of an escape route; for example, I'm pretty sure that has been something poetic inside my chest trying to find the words to allow it to surface, to let it out, but I have not allowed much thought for these thoughts, keeping them trapped and in the dark.

I am going to attempt to remedy this now.

Please bear with me (that's b-e-a-r, not b-a-r-e).

Things I've noticed about myself/habits:

I've decided that I really love Fall (Autumn, if you will). It might be my favorite season. But I had never experienced such a seasonal phenomenon until I spent a few years in Provo. Now as I hike through freshly green Santa Monica Mountains enjoying the sun and ready myself for Thanksgiving in capri pants and flip flops, I realize that something is missing. The hills are not painted with brilliant shades of orange and gold. There isn't that crisp in the air that prompts you pull out your pea coats and scarves. There are no crunchy leaves on the sidewalk that make even a trip down the driveway to the mailbox fun. The air doesn't smell of cinnamon and wet earth. Fall just isn't a season we have in California. Around here, "Fall" is a time when school starts, when we make trips to the pumpkin patch, when children dress in costumes and beg for candy, and when we sweat during the day and might need a hoodie at night. That's all. I guess what I'm saying is that I miss Fall.

I only play the piano or the guitar when nobody's home.
(Or when I think no one can hear me)

I am afraid to speak Spanish to native speakers.
But wouldn't you love it if you moved to Paraguay and someone spoke English to you?

When I clean my room, I always start by putting away my shoes.

I still can't roll my tongue.

I keep a dayplanner, but I realized that I usually only write things that have already happened in it.
It is rarely used to warn me of something ahead.

I really pine for an old friend I've lost touch with.
Despite our lack of contact these last few years, I still love her and consider her one of my favorite people.
She inspires me, even from afar.

I wear "Saturday Outfits" whenever I can.
"What is a Saturday outfit?" you ask.
I guess the best way to describe it is to give an example.
Today's edition:
orange tank top
Batman boxers
Ron Weasly-esque beanie
ballet slippers

I have a lot of friends. Now, I don't say this to be boastful; I mean there are a lot of individuals with whom I share a friendship. This doesn't mean I'm super social, or that I'm always surrounded by a large group of people. In fact, I would say quite the opposite. I was thinking about how I have these friends who are all from different groups, making getting a group together for some activity a little weird and very random. So I just don't do it. I am totally open to being introduced to their friends. I don't really mind being the one who doesn't really know anybody else there (as long as my friend remembers that I don't know anyone else yet). But I never invite people who don't know each other to hang out with me. I always laugh at the idea of all of the random people that would attend a birthday party in my honor. The last two years, friends have thrown me a surprise party, inviting who they thought should be there, and they did a good job. But there were people I would have liked to have come, but since I don't know any of their friends and they don't know any of my friends, they miss out on an invitation. I think I would be able to save more time and have more fun by "killing two birds with one stone," so to speak. If I allowed my friends to meet and be friends with each other, then we could all hang out; all would be well. I hope I can let this happen sometime.

I miss dance -- everything about it.
I miss the girls. I miss the coach.
I miss the competitions. I miss the performances.
I miss the smell of hairspray and eyelash glue.
I miss being in good physical condition.
I miss the massive appetite I used to be able to maintain.
I miss the thrill that comes from mastering a new movement.
I miss the rhythm of the music and my heartbeat combined.
I miss the freedom and the release.

What I Should Be Doing: moving my furniture, writing to Ben, going to Home Depot, shaving my legs
What I'm Listening To: Stephanie Smith, The Eagles, Shania Twain, and The Sequence

In fact, I think that you should listen to The Sequence too:

Why don't we say what we mean?

Disclaimer: this is probably not going to be a funny blog.

So lately I have found myself catching up with people I haven't talked to in a while (for one reason or another) and then I find myself faced with the imminent inquiry. That overwhelmingly vague yet personal question that never fails to comes up: How are you?

But does that person care to hear an honest answer? I've been thinking a lot about that. How often do we find ourselves walking past somebody we know and in passing, we smile and say with [false?] enthusiasm, "Hi! How are are you?" or "Hey! How's it going?" But we keep walking, don't we? We have a tendency to "keep walking" in a conversation as well. A coworker or friend from school will say good morning and ask how we're doing today and we automatically respond with, "Fine" or "Good" or any variation thereof. Then we continue the conversation by describing exactly why we're not fine:
"Man, I have this splitting headache..."
"Ugh I was up so late last night. My kids are sick..."
"I'm nervous about this test tomorrow.."
"My roommate is still acting like the Queen of Sheba..."
"My boyfriend and I got in another fight last night..."
"I think I have herpes..."

Why do we bother with the "Fine" statement to begin with? Mostly, it's a mindless response to a mindless question. But sometimes we revert to the "Fine" because it's been a long time since our last communication with that person and rather than explain everything that has happened in the past two years or so, you just summarize with a simple "I'm doing well," putting on a front in a way. I guess the hard part is determining the sincerity with which the how are you is presented so that we don't miss an opportunity to respond accordingly, to show our friends that we trust them, and to allow them to catch a little glimpse into our lives.

Another example:
"I'm sorry."
"It's ok."

It's ok?! So they can do it again and that would be alright with you?
Yea, I didn't think so.

We've become overly an apologetic people, always afraid of offending, always watching what we say, afraid of being politically incorrect or the dreaded i-word: intolerant. I won't even get started on this topic. I don't have the time and neither do you.

I guess the whole point of this rambling was to explain that I've been trying to overcome these poor communication incidents that have become the social norm.

So go ahead, ask me how I've been; tell me you're sorry.



I dare you.






What I should be doing: fastrack Physics 105, finding my floor, finding a job, finding myself
What I'm listening to: Ana Nalick, Sufjan Stevens, Rocky Votolato, Stars

Work in Progress- Something for Veronica to Read

It's been a big summer.

Lots of changes.

I don't even know where to begin.

Words are failing me right now.

I guess I could cheat and raise my word count by the thousands by using pictures...

Yes, that is what I will do.

TRANSPORTATION
OLD:
[Dora]
"Dora," the Explorer -born: 2000

NEW:
"Ruby Sue" -born: 1986

HOUSE
OLD:
NEW:

HAIR
OLD:

NEW:

(I look sickly. But my hair looks good...)


SCHOOL

OLD:





















NEW:
[picture in scrubs]