Why I'm Glad My Life Isn't A Hallmark Christmas Movie

The end of November is soon upon us. Which means that days will get shorter, nights will get colder, and we can all get cozy and gather around the TV for Hallmark Christmas movies. Now, for the second year running, my roommate and I have hunkered down for our favorite tradition. This means that all other TV watching is temporarily suspended as we become engrossed in cheesy romantic story after cheesy romantic story. At first, I was worried this would have some negative psychological effect; I remember one of my family processes professors warning about the dangers of idealization that can come from unrealistic expectations. After my 3rd movie last night though, I realized that these movies offer no threat of this. In fact, they make me grateful for the life I do have.

Now, this is not some thinly veiled braggey "seriously, so blessed" posts. My life is great, mostly because of the people in it. I've had some accomplishments, but no more than most others. Even if nothing works out, and I end up spending the majority of my life in a snuggie jumpsuit, I'd still kind of love it. I'm not unambitious or lazy, it's just that honestly when something doesn't work out, I'm ok. Get laid off my job? Break up with someone? Contract the flu? It's really alright. Just gives me one more day to do something fun like hike a mountain, or sit around in my pajama jeans and snuggie and look at pictures of cats. Then, pick up with my life and keep moving, usually with a smile, or at least a hearty chuckle.

Snuggie Jumpsuit

People in these Hallmark movies though, are miserable. They hate their lives, jobs, and can't relate to friends, family, or significant others. It takes the arrival of Santa, Mrs. Claus, elves, ghosts of christmas past/present/future, or an attractive and emotionally available member of the opposite gender to right themselves. Now, I am all for watching people fall in love; I'm a girl, I like love and happiness. It's just that I wish people in these portrayals could be happy enough without it or the huge righting miracle in their lives. They shouldn't have to dramatically change everything about themselves to suddenly bring about joy. They could just make the small personal decision to be just a little kinder and optimistic. In real life, if we had to wait around for a huge catalyst or Christmas miracle to turn us around, would it really have a lasting impact?

Pajama jeans. Yes, I actually do own both these items. And I'm proud of it. 

With that said, I will continue to watch them, because yes, I'm a sap. I secretly love cheesiness. But, only for the end of the movies. I honestly want to just grab the characters when they're being their morose, dour selves at the beginning and be like "look at your beautiful house and wardrobe. be happy now!". 

For now, I'll probably just go throw on my forever lazy and see which sad person gets their life saved by Christmas next. 

Goodbye Dan

Friends, it is my birthday tomorrow. I don't particularly love acknowledging that I am now a full year closer to death, but there you have it. Right now, in one of the closest races in the country, they still have not determined a winner. Ami Bera holds a slight lead, with just under 2,000 votes ahead. Every bone in my body hopes that Dan Lungren loses."Wow, Beth, that's mega-harsh!", you may be thinking right now, but let me take you on a journey to explain.

The year is 2004. I am in high school and still 16 years old. My dad was running for congress in the California 3rd district. If you are one of the 99% of Americans whose parent has never run for congress, let me tell you, you are so lucky. It is one of the most stressful things you can go through. All I wanted to do was be an average high schooler. Playing sports, awkward flirting, attempting to stay awake during class, and essentially trying to attract as little attention to myself as possible. I didn't want to think of my Dad running a campaign and potentially moving to D.C. It happened though. My brother and I would go out for hours of canvASSing as we called it. This involved visiting 80% of the houses on our list, then getting a muffin from starbucks and sitting in the car making up data for the rest. This may sound bad, but I was 16. I didn't want to be going around to creepy peoples' houses. I wanted to be at home, sleeping. Then, my big brother left for school in Utah and left me to deal with it on my own. This was the same year Kerry lost and the republicans "took back the house". It was a dark time for a Mormon democratic candidate with a hispanic last name, running in one of the most conservative districts in the state. My dad tried though. Very hard. He had to deal with all sorts of ridiculous party politics that make me hate the democratic party. He was moderate, fiscally conservative, and had an A rating from the NRA. It was not meant to be though.

Official Castillo for Congress Photo

It all came to a culmination when my poli sci teacher invited Lungren to come and speak to our class a week before the election. During class, the only question I could think to ask him was why he supported the use of lobbyists in congress, who were bound to corrupt and sway congressional votes and he answered "That's just the way it's got to be. They've got the money, why shouldn't they use it?". Need I mention he was a millionaire?

You may not be able to completely make out his lower lip spittle

Ok, my dad obviously lost. I had to face some smug teachers and classmates the whole next day. In between class periods I'd stop by and cry in the bathroom. You can't help but take it personally. It is hard on you and on your whole family. I couldn't help but have a surge of dislike for Dan that has never really gone away, especially with his tea-party craziness of 2009-2011. Finally though, I hope I can put it behind me. I am still grateful to my high school friends Karine and Kibby, who went out canvassing with me for hours, putting up signs and being so supportive during such a hard time. Now, free at last, free at last, thank goodness, we are almost free at last! Hopefully soon we can all say, goodbye Dan.

Edit: I am sorry that I sounded so gloaty. Now that Ami has officially won, I feel a little bad. My dad reminded me, as we picked up my brother from the airport, that while very self-assured, Mr. Lungren was a very classy guy. Apparently, Ami Bera's camp sent out a tacky self-congratulatory email with a clip of Lungren classily continuing to orient new congressmen (his job) even though he had lost. Losing a race is very hard to take, and I sincerely wish you the best, Mr. Lungren. I'm sorry I was bitter and said mean things about your spittle. 

Why I Love Becca

This is a whole post about my love for one fantastic human being, Rebecca Ann Stenquist. Now, dear friends if you don't know her, you should. She's going to Bulgaria to serve a mission. I am sorry Becca, you may find this to be weird and creepy, but I don't care. I actually typed this out 3 weeks ago, but waited until the eve of her farewell talk to post it.

The first time I ever heard of this mysterious wonderful person, I was going in to sign my contract to live in Heather Cove. It was sometime in November, and I was taking the contract of another friend who was leaving on her mission. At the same time I was there, Becca's brother Ben was in the office signing Becca's contract for the upcoming semester. Obviously, this was fate. Then, again, as I was moving my things into my apt that December, I caught a peek of her and her brother in the neighboring doorway.

That winter, magic happened. Now, we had just under 2 years of marvelous experiences, which may lead you to think that our friendship was built out of those good times. And partially, it was. Let's be honest, a ton of the fun things we did were powered by Becca's organization and enthusiasm. However, what I love most about Becca (aside from her incredible cooking skills, craft skills, boundless positivity, hilarity, and wit) is how she will always be there for you. Be it a broken foot, broken heart, or broken GPA  she will get you through it. Just recently she flew down the freeway to Sandy on a moment's notice to scoop me off the floor and bring me back to life with some Chinese food, Marie Callenders pie, and snuggling. I really will miss you Becca. So much. I can't even imagine what it will be like. But, I guess it's our opportunity to be selfless and share you with the Bulgarians for a while. You are going to be such a good missionary, and you'll be getting a ton of letters... whether you like it or not...

future cabin?

Signs You're Underemployed (Or Why You Shouldn't Major in a Social Science)

Throughout my young adulthood, I have worked in almost every sector a 18 to 24 year-old with limited upper body strength can work. Currently, I am temporarily employed by unnamed campaign working for an unnamed local candidate. Generally, my work duties involve going to people's doors, asking them which candidate they support, then politely encouraging them to further investigate their preference if it's the other candidate. Sounds somewhat dignified, right? It isn't. Sadly, I have graduated from a respected university with a bachelor of science degree, and I find myself still woefully underemployed. These were the dead giveaways:

The only employment requirement is the ability to walk and ownership of a cell phone.  
After breaking my foot, I almost didn't even meet this requirement.

People face you with the same disdain usually reserved for a SWAT team invading their home or a bank employee informing them their house has been foreclosed.
Except for that one nice lady who invited me in and gave me a water bottle, I have been met mostly with unmasked hostility and some very colorful language.

You have to seriously calculate whether you are spending more commuting to work than you're being paid. 
But, really.

You Wonder if You Should "Forget" to List This Job on a Future Resume
Well, I guess in this case it depends on if this candidate wins or not... this is coming from the girl who still lists "dish washer" as employment.

There is no Dressing or Grooming Standard
One of my "Coworkers" came stumbling in the other day in an oversized jersey, sweatpants, and the overwhelming smell of alcohol and possibly an inexpensive brand of marijuana. I was wearing a sweater and wondering if my tennis shoes were too informal.

Now, I really am happy to have a job, no matter how sad it is. It's money, I'll take it. After scanning craigslist endlessly and wondering what exactly those creepy "sugar daddy" job posts are about, it's nice to get a response back and work a legitimate job. Hopefully my grad school saga will soon be over, and I'll find myself eventually qualified for and working a career. Until then, I can't wait to see what my next job is...

Wake Me Up When September Ends

Regardless of the fantastic weather outside, it is in fact the beginning of October. This makes everything inside of me want to run out in a sweater and make some caramel apples. Instead I was just out on my back deck reading a book and tanning. I have been thinking about the last month and all the knowledge I have gleaned. Let me share.

Nugget of Wisdom #1
Don't underestimate the power of an adorable animal.
Not only can looking at pictures of cute creatures increase your mental acuity, it can get you through anything. And I mean, anything. I have been lucky enough to have friends who share in my love for all things lovable, furry, and tiny. This has been a virtual panacea for all of my life's ills. So thank you. 

Nugget of Wisdom #2
Please don't bear your testimony of Mitt Romney, it won't make you look good.
I'm directing this towards you, elderly gentleman in the West Yellowstone ward. We were all impressed by your ability to represent Idaho at the RNC. However, during church I like to hear witnesses of the gospel, spirit, etc. When you become emotional talking about "clasping his hand as he passed through the multitude", it is difficult not to groan. You're making us look bad. 

Nugget of Wisdom #3
When you hear screams of terror and shouting from next door, it's probably no big deal. 
One Sunday, Kelsi and I were peacefully sitting on the deck when we were suddenly hit with a cacophony of sound from next door. The air was full of frenzied, frantic screaming coming from an adult male and two children. These sounds of horror reverberated through the backyard for at least a minute. Assuming someone was being murdered, mauled, dismembered, or some combination of the three, we ran to look over. Unfortunately, our view of this deliciously chaotic scene was obscured by our neighbor's giant tree. Eventually, the father screams to the children "Go! Go! Run! Get out of here!!" at which point I call over "Do we need to call 911?". No response. Just movement to the front. Kelsi and I run around to the front of the house and watch as a dramatic domestic scene unfolds. The mother is in the driveway ripping off the children's shirts screaming "How did this happen?!" while the father swats at his head and yells back "I didn't know they were there!". At this point everyone runs into the garage. Wondering if they were attacked by wasps, anthrax, or a flesh eating bacteria, Kelsi and I speculated throughout the day. Monday, the kids were out front playing like nothing happened. We may never know. 

Nugget of Wisdom #4
Rebecca Stenquist is awesome. 
More to come on this later. 

Nugget of Wisdom #5
Life changes fast.
Driving back from Sacramento to Sandy, I very nearly could have been involved in a very scary accident. One minute I was being passed by a car from Utah and let my mind drift off into wondering if they were BYU or U of U fans, and the next minute, they were swerving all over the road, completely losing control at 85 mph. Now, fortunately they didn't roll over, as it looked like they were about to, and I had been paying attention, so was able to slow. But, both they and I could have been involved in a very very bad accident. A girl from my freshman ward who I didn't know too well recently had her husband pass away in a scuba diving accident. She is only a few months older than me. Things will always change, but sometimes that change can be sudden, and jarring. When that happens, there is no predicting it. There is not much you can do to prepare for that exact contingency. No matter what happens to us though, we can always control how we react. Do we become bitter that things have worked out the way they have, wallowing in the unfairness of it all? We could. But that benefits no one. I have learned (once again) that I need to take advantage of what I have today. Yeah, things happen, people change, life is unexpected. But, there is much I have now, that I won't always.

Latina Rage

Friends as you know, I am very white. Buried deep within me, however, is the spirit of my grandmother, born Dolores Sanchez. Now, my Grandma loved me and my family members very much, but was one to have a bad temper from time to time. I have some very vivid childhood memories of seeing Grandma Castillo display the scariest bursts of anger my young eyes had ever witnessed. Grandma Castillo was also fiercely loyal to her family and would defend you to the end. She also always had fabulously manicured nails. She passed away several years ago, but left me with one fantastic gift. Latina Rage.

Overall, I have been known to be somewhat of a pushover for many years. I can be very passive and struggle to say no. I especially have a difficult time ever telling people when I am angry or frustrated with them. There are many reasons for this, but I mostly blame my mom's sweet, Northern European deference. Occasionally, however, I am pushed beyond my ability to let something slide, and I find my easy-going, doormattey self start to give way. My inner Sanchez is released. The first time this happened, I had no idea how to control it, like the hulk, I was transformed into a screaming, arm-flailing, crazy-person for a full 45 seconds. Immediately afterwards I felt horrible guilt and burst into tears. Not the best problem solving I've ever done. That was several years ago, during my tumultuous teenage years. I have slowly gotten better. The last full-on Sanchez incident occurred during the early summer of 2009. If it involved you, you remember it (sorry about that...).

Now, I find myself slowly fighting off that rage to a point where I deal with things like the mature, logical adult I should be. From time to time, I need a brief outlet for this anger. Be it a sport or dart board or a song from Evita. Certain people or situations sometimes make controlling this inner monster more difficult. The last thing you want to do is call someone out who is on the verge of Latina Rage. Do you really want them to start screaming at you in the crowded room of people? I didn't think so. Above all though, I have learned to channel this inner Latina Rage into something constructive. Instead of just shouting, and arm-flailing, it helps me not be such a horrible pushover. It is in fact inner-strength and confidence. It overrules my otherwise shy abnegation to make sure that I am treated decently, or almost decently.

Yes, sometimes I let people get away with treating me badly. Especially when it is a murky situation. But, know that you are playing with fire if you think you can get away with it for long. It's only after so much that my inner Sanchez is awakened. So, don't come near me with your feet, spiders, contacts, or pickles of any kind, and treat me with the same respect you would your fellow human beings, and you won't have to meet my Grandma Castillo.

P.S. Just to make sure you don't think I am some scary, angry person all the time, here are some kittens on a slide:

Beware the Ides of November (Or, really just November 6th)

I do most of my deepest thinking as I'm punch dancing in my backyard. As I was expertly jamming to Barefoot Blue Jean Night in my tankini (it's 104 degrees), I thought about this coming fall.

I usually don't like to talk about politics, mostly because I rarely agree with anyone around me. Do I support gay marriage? No. My church leaders have come out specifically in opposition to that. This puts me against nearly all the more liberal of my acquaintanceship. My faith is paramount in my life. Do I feel that society needs to ensure the basic welfare of all? Yes. I think many people agree with this tenet, but disagree with how it should be carried out. I love my country and I want it, and all who live within its boundaries to be as successful and happy as possible.

I personally feel that it needs to be specifically mandated that all are cared for, and the responsibility of the government to ensure that this is carried out. This puts me at odds with the majority of my more conservative friends who feel that this is the responsibility of individuals and groups within our society, but that depending on the government for these services is inefficient and unnecessary. For those of you reading, I understand. Believe me. I try to be as informed as possible and see every issue from as many vantage points as I can. I have seen both through social data and through personal anecdotal experiences that there exists major disparity throughout our society. I was personally born with many socioeconomic privileges and I am aware that many have to overcome so much just to be on the same playing field that I was given. This is why I feel I should sacrifice some of my income in support of those born with much less than me. I believe that, while imperfect and often not entirely efficient, social programs are a step in the right direction for allowing equal opportunity for success. This is my personal feeling. I know again that many disagree.

I support immigration policies allowing for amnesty. I have seen and have spoken with many who depend on undocumented workers for the economic sustainability of their businesses. It makes fiscal and moral sense to me to allow these undocumented workers a documented and legal place within our society. I will vote for candidates who champion causes closest to my personal beliefs.

This brings us all to this next November. While I value and admire the courage and character of most of the candidates, I will choose who I vote for based on my personal beliefs. I will not actively campaign or shove in anyone else's face my choices. I am very wary of those who belittle, mock, or bully someone who sees political issues differently. I have experienced this myself, and it is very unpleasant. I have very carefully and thoughtfully formed my opinions with the best information I have. I do not take the idea of forming opinions lightly. I hope by this paragraph I haven't lost any friends (because I have before), I don't think my political viewpoints are a secret. I also hope I don't return to Provo tomorrow to a mob of pitchforks outside my apartment. I only ask that we be respectful and understanding of others' beliefs and recognize that sometimes we just won't see things the same way. This goes for me too. If I do/say anything obnoxious, feel free to call me a dirty hypocrite. I also hope that this hasn't sounded like a long, annoying, pontifical rant. I promise this is the last time I will specifically mention politics in this blog! Whew! 

If anything, I just wish Mike Gravel would run again.

Contacts, I Hate You... Part 3

Friends, let me take you back to Thursday, June 21st 2012. Now, June 21st's have always been notorious for being bad in my life history. Really, I can't think of much good that has ever come from a June 21st. Let me explain how Bryant Milesi from my kindergarten class is responsible for me waking up on a strange couch at 2 am.

Thursday morning, I woke up at about 10:13am feeling good about life. I was fairly optimistic for how my Thursday would go. I became way too ambitious and thought "Self, I have a great idea! I'll wear my contacts today, I'll actually be able to see the children I teach!". Unfortunately, with seasonal allergies, about 20 local wildfires, and a climate drier than the Sahara, it wasn't too successful. I got a contact in my right eye after 15 minutes and felt pretty confident. How wrong I was. I next tried my left eye and found myself with my contact "missing". Remembering the incident of October 17th, I knew I needed to hunt around my eye. Indeed, there he was, lurking under my left eyelid all cozy and rolled up. After extracting the contact, I tried again. And again. And again. Suddenly, it was 11:30, I had to leave, and I only had one contact in.

So, I try taking out my right contact. I miss. I try again. I miss again. Finally, my eyes are contact-free. My vision is more than typically blurry and more bloodshot than a hippie on 4/20, but I am free.

I continue throughout my day and find my vision is worse than typical. Why did I fail so badly at flag-football practice? Obviously it was my eyesight. This also goes for why I almost rode my bicycle into a telephone pole and how I ended up almost killing myself after institute. After a very long, detailed, informative institute lesson, I was happily sitting around socializing and eating a cookie. Now, this cookie was an allergist's nightmare. It had chocolate, white chocolate, oatmeal, almonds, walnuts, and coconut lurking in small slivers. Blindly oblivious to this noxious drupe in my seemingly innocuous cookie, I ate on. I got through about 2/3 of the cookie before a friend, watching me eat, spotted those slivers of coconut. I hurredly disposed of as much of the coconut as I could and sped off on my bicycle back to my apartment. And this is where my memory gets fuzzy. I took some benedryl to ensure my face didn't blow up. I think I ended up at someone's intramural game? And riding around in someone's car? And watching I.Q.? All I know for certain is that I found myself eventually alone and very confused on Heather Cove 12's couch at 2 in the morning with a couple unexplained text messages sent from my phone.

There I am, back when I had 20/20 vision. Bryant Milesi is all the way on the left. 

The moral of the story, beware the 21st of June. And any kindergartner named Bryant.

Pros and Cons of Working with Children

My new job involves working with the (mostly) delightful children of Utah County. Having survived my first week, I have already compiled some of the best and the worst factors of spending an extended amount of time with the younger population.

Pro: Instant Self-Esteem booster

If you want to feel better about yourself, work with kids. Not only do they treat you like a rockstar, some will actually cry when you leave. You can't buy that kind of flattery. You will be told many times how awesome/beautiful your clothes, hair, face, earrings, shoes, and eyes are.

Con: Prepare to always hear complaining about something

The classroom is too cold/hot, you spent to little/much time on snack break, someone else in the class didn't look at them nicely... it literally goes on and on. You develop very quickly a constantly empathetic expression and become adept at appeasement. I suddenly have a lot more sympathy for Neville Chamberlain.

Pro: It's cool to be dorky

You can let your inner freak flag fly, because, the more silly and ridiculous you act, the more they love it. On the same side, you can be a know-it-all without being completely obnoxious. You get asked a question about why lasers are called lasers and you can launch into a 15 minute explanation about 'Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation' and have 20 faces in complete awe stare back at you. (note: They might not actually be impressed as much as they are just completely lost... as you are next asked what 'acronym' means. This doesn't matter, take it as flattery and leave it at that)

Con: You have to have about 50 pairs of eyes

I think I'm beginning to understand the biological advantage to having multiple eyes. Generally these are granted to creatures with very large numbers of offspring. I believe that, in large groups, the young of any species are apt to go completely out of control. All it takes is for you to be helping one group of children with their project to turn around and find someone attempting to climb out a window, or up a flagpole, or over a fence, or on top of the piano, or into a stranger's van, or under the bleachers, or into the bushes, or into some other highly hazardous area.

Pro: It's FUN!

There's a reason people voluntarily choose this for employment. Kids are fun. Playing is fun. You get to release your inner child and just enjoy life again. Yes, it can be very stressful, and yes you have to solve many many ridiculous disputes and constantly save them from themselves, but it is really worth it. Nothing is cooler than seeing a kid learn something new or do something they'd only seen happen in movies. That excitement is contagious. It's refreshing to be reminded of life when the biggest worries are what's for dinner and what I'm going to build with my lego set.

(p.s. I don't know why there's like 3 different types of font going on... just go with it)

Why There are Missions

So, I had a very cool experience this last weekend. It involves some of the missionaries that taught my family. Oh yeah, also if you didn't know, I'm a member of the LDS church.

Let me give you a little bit of background. You see, both my parents were sort-of Catholics, which meant we went to mass on big holidays, mainly Christmas and Easter. I was taught very spiritual principles from a young age though. I could bust out the Lord's Prayer faster than the alphabet. My grandmother gave me a cross that I cherished, I had a small statue of the Virgin Mary I kept in my room, and I remember wondering many times about the nature of God, the purpose of life, etc. Well, insofar as an elementary school student can delve into these questions. Then, one Sunday in October, our whole family was in the backyard raking up leaves and we hear a knock on the fence. There were two guys standing there in suits who both had the first name "Elder". I can remember this like it was yesterday. We invited them to come back later that week (since we were all covered in leaves).

Well anyway, it took us a while, but eventually we all joined the LDS church and my whole family has stayed active since. My brother served a mission, and I graduated from BYU. I have often thought about the missionaries that taught us. I could remember their faces, their spirit, their sincerity and hard work. But I could not remember their names and I had no idea where they were or what they were doing. I guess part of me also didn't even think that teaching and baptizing my family was something they'd remember very well so long after it had happened. Well, I went several years thinking about getting ahold of the missionaries, but never really trying very hard. Then, a couple weeks ago, a friend told me I really should do it, that it would be something that the former missionaries would really appreciate, and that I should start off looking for the mission president at the time and go from there. I thought that was a great idea... but I kept telling myself I'd do it later (which, if you've ever changed my car's oil, you know that for me 'later' means up to 8 months in the future). It did keep nagging at me though. It wasn't until the CES devotional, which was held up by the Sacramento temple, my temple, that I suddenly realized it was something I really needed to do, like now.

So, I went on the internet, and within 10 minutes I found a way to contact the one missionary whose name I remembered. The one who was there working with my family the longest. I sent him a message, just kind of updating how we all were and saying thank you. I did get a little sentimental, I'll admit. I'm kind of a huge sap that way. A few hours later, I got an email back from him saying how he'd been trying to find contact information for years on my family, how he wanted to take his family down to his old mission and to meet mine, and how he thought about and spoke about us often. I can't tell you how awesome this was to hear. If you have been on a mission or even just touched someone's life, let them know what it meant to you too. That's the fabulous thing about doing something for someone else. Not only do you help them out, but they help you too. If it was something big enough, take the time to let them know how much that opportunity to serve has effected your life too. I originally thought that getting in contact with our missionaries was something nice I could do for them, but it ended up being very meaningful to me.

Getting Sealed at the Oakland Temple

I apologize for the cheese, it's my dad's birthday so maybe my emotional side is coming out.

Lolz

Ahh, text messages. There are few things on the planet that I hate/love/adore/despise as much as SMS. In many ways, my life has been thoroughly blessed by this little invention. It can make communication much more convenient, accessible, and non-imposing. If I need to borrow Jose's banjo, I don't have to call Jose and get through 45 seconds of pleasantries before demanding it of him. I can just pick up my phone, type a few letters, and call it good. It really is an introvert's dream. Naturally however, this double edged sword comes with a price.

Let me give you an example:

Person 1: HEY! CoNgRaTs on winning the chess tournament!!!!!!1 :) ! :)

Person 2: thanks.

Now, person 1 may interpret the lack of excessive smileys, exclamation points, or capitalization in person 2's response as a dismissal and may dejectedly never speak to person 2 again. Perhaps person 2 really was annoyed. Although, maybe person 2 is just not the most effusive texter. Person 1 may never know.

See, I'm sure this is an issue we have all faced at least once in the last 10 years. The main issue when it comes to texts, is the absence of tone. Sometimes the inherently sarcastic will take a comment to be flippant, when in reality it was meant with all sincerity:

Person 3: What'd you think of my exhibition on underwater metallic basket weaving?

Person 4: Yeah, it was totally great.

Person 3: Okay. Thanks a lot, "friend".

Person 4: Wait, why are you using quotations? What?

Person 3: You know why!

Here we have person 3 taking person 4's genuine compliment to have a sarcastic tone. Thus, person 3 is offended and a friendship just died.

Conversely, a person lacking in pretense or satire may miss the telltale rolling of the eyes or dry delivery that would normally tip them off to the tongue-in-cheek nature of someone's comment:

Person 5: I am having the best month of my life.

Person 4: Yay!

Person 5: Ya, turns out I have hepatitis.

Person 4: Oh, ok!

Person 5: It was probably because of the hypodermic needle I got stabbed with when I was carjacked last week.

Person 4: Wait.. so why is this month so great? Is it your birthday??

It is sometimes impossible to tell whether one is being facetious or not.

Another problem with text messaging are the conversation enders. The best text messaging experiences I've had are when they just naturally flow on for days, much like a normal conversation. A conversation consisting of 160 characters or less and responses varying between hours and seconds that is. I personally hate being the last one to respond, it makes me feel like I have said something so incommunicable that the other person is at a loss for words. Or just really doesn't care. Although, I also hate to leave someone else's response just hanging out there... in the wind. It is a true paradox. There is literally no way to win.

Sometimes, when you've hit a lull in the conversation, apparently you're supposed to just let the conversation die. I hate watching things die. I will usually do all I can to attempt to resuscitate anything about to give up the ghost... the duct taped cell phone, the nearly drowned ant, the wilting cactus, and the directionless text message conversation. I remember one time specifically when I asked my roommate if I should try to keep an exchange going, or if it would just be 'beating a dead horse', to which she replied "I think you beat that poor horse to death a long time ago". I feel like when you are actually speaking to someone, this issue does not come up nearly as often. Maybe it's because social decorum necessitates our endurance of boring topics or maybe it just isn't as noticeable who stopped talking when and why if your words aren't recorded and readable.

This is not even going into the riskiness of using sometimes unreliable cell phones to communicate. Are you really sending a message to friend A about boy D? Or are you accidentally sending boy D a message about boy D? Sometimes cell phones are evil and take on a life of their own. Regardless, I will continue my conflicted utilization of this blessing/curse of technology. Maybe one day I will master it, but until then it will continue to be the bane/blessing of my existence.

Waxing Pensive

Today was one year from the "maximum improvement status" on my wrist, which meant a check-up phone call from worker's comp. It is really amazing to me that something so small has caused so much life change. Forgive me for writing my thoughts out on here. I think we're all friends. 

The BYU worker's comp lady wanted so badly for me to give her good news that I didn't correct her when she said I probably had more function than I thought I would. The truth is more that I've gotten used to it. I remember when I first got the cast off, my wrist felt like some alien appendage, and I would act like at any point it might jump up and strangle me (like Wormtail's silver hand. Harry Potter? Anyone? Anyone?). Maybe I don't have more function, but I've figured out ways to still do things with my life. Can't snowboard? Well, I'll just go Cross-Country skiing. If I strap on an ugly wrist brace, I can actually do a lot of things. I've learned to lift with my forearms, which is not quite as handy (haha, I'm so puny), but means I can still move things. It still hurts to type though and with the weather comes annoying aching. In fact, it hurts every day. But again, this is not as devastating as it seemed at first. 

I have to be more careful and I have learned to expect pain or discomfort, but that is definitely endurable. Weirdly, this whole experience has actually done a number on me with how I feel. I honestly went through the first 22 years of my life thinking that I could do anything. Suddenly I found myself with an injury that would affect me for the rest of my life and I wasn't ready for something like that yet. It's made me stronger, but in a very subtle way. In some aspects, I am more afraid and cautious than I used to be (you won't see me doing handstands any time soon), but in others I am fearless. Yeah, I had to give up some of my dreams, my grad school admission, my career choice, and a lot of activities. Am I ok? Yeah. Can I still do so much with my life? Of course. I have found myself pretty much at the low of lows and I survived. It's probably what helped me brush off my recent Oregon school experience with little more than a hearty chuckle. Do I know where I am going right now? No. But I like it. It doesn't scare me anymore. I have felt and experienced what it is like to have everything turned upside down and I know you get through it. 

Initially I could not understand why something like this had happened to me. I'm a relatively nice person. I pay my tithing. It seemed so horribly, bitterly unfair. But now I know I can handle anything. Instead of destroying my confidence and leaving it in pieces, this experience broke it down and slowly made it into something better. I know who I am and I know what I can do. I'm not saying I would wish for it again, or even that I'm to the point where I can feel grateful for it. I just have come to terms with it, and can acknowledge the changes it has made. 

How to Always be Happy

In life, devastating events can occur and we find ourselves facing nearly insurmountable odds. When we've climbed all the mountains we can, and find ourselves at the end of our emotional rope, there's really not anything we can do. Except crawl into a corner. And die.

That's not what this post is about. Don't ever allow yourself to be melodramatically depressive for more than 15 minutes if you're by yourself or for more than 30 if your with a group of empathizing friends. Maintain your happiness! This is crucial. Below are my tips for sustaining a balanced positivity in day to day life. This is not to be confused with Beating the Winter Blues, those suggestions are for last minute happiness boosters and should only be used in emergencies, and thus sparingly. You should try these on a nearly daily basis.

1. Eat Carrots

Not only are these golden finger-like gifts of the gods absolutely delicious, they're also packed full of vitamin A. And fiber. Once you've trained yourself to stress-eat carrots, you can cut out a good portion of your chocolate consumption. Meaning that now only 67% of your daily caloric intake is derived from Nestle or Hershey. Trust me, you can go through an entire bag of this delectable vegetable a day.

2. Watch Evita

First of all, this is the best movie ever made. Second, it has Antonio Banderas. The more you watch it, the better it gets. After a mere 15 viewings, you will know all the lyrics to all the songs. Which is bound to make you very popular with those of the opposite gender. All you have to do is saunter up to your intended target, croon out the lyrics to I'd Be Surprisingly Good for You, look at them seductively, and they're yours.

3. Drive up Provo Canyon

If you don't live in Provo or Utah County, just drive somewhere with trees or mountains. Or if you live in the midwest, drive to an Arby's. I'm not even kidding you that driving up that canyon brings more joy into my life than almost anything else. My favorite part is heading back towards Provo from the reservoir. There's one point in the drive right before you pass Sundance, where the angle of the mountains is just incredible. Really, you should try driving up there. Or maybe have someone else drive you up there so you don't go off the road after becoming entranced by this glorious view I just told you about.

4. Listen to Tom Jones

Ok, or really just It's Not Unusual. I first came to love this song when seeing it on Mars Attacks! in my youth and this love has stayed with me as I have grown. In fact, I find myself happily bouncing down the street, swinging my arms to the beat and beaming at everyone I walk past for nearly the entire 2.5 minute duration of the song. I have even found myself happily bounding along to this song as I've been trudging through snow.

5. Spend an Inordinate amount on time on Facebook

This is my best suggestion for maintaining a happy life. Get on Facebook. A lot. Not only does this make you feel like you're actually interacting with friends, you can do all sorts of things. Like, stalk your ex-boyfriend's roommate's sister's best friend's cousin's wedding pictures. Or go through liking everything that comes up on your news feed. Or looking for ways to make a cuss word on Words with Friends. Possibilities with Facebook are endless.

Well, friends. Stay positive, and do these things as often as you can for a happy and fulfilling life.

Life Modifications

Whoa boy, sometimes changes are the hardest things to take. I like to think I'm good at it, but I'm really not. I still have and mostly use the same yahoo! email account from 2002, and I resist every time they try to update it to the new version. I still hate my new facebook timeline. Whenever I have to switch to a new cell phone (sadly a somewhat common occurrence), I feel like a little part of me has died. At the same time, I have never lived in the same apartment for more than a year, I switch out shampoo brands every couple months or so, and I (fully intend to) donate a piece of clothes for every new one I buy. Because even though it hurts me, I know, deep down, change is good for me. Just ask Tupac.

Right now, I am switching rooms, but staying in the same apartment. I found myself looking at the bathroom my roommate and I currently share with an emotional pang this morning. After Friday, I will never again use that shower. But, this will be a good experience. I am moving to a much bigger room, and going through my stuff once again will probably result in a much needed purging of extraneous things (like that one ugly sweater I only wore one time in 2008).

The saddest part is that my other 3 roommates are moving on to bigger and better things in a house for the summer. Now that they are packing up their things and preparing to leave, I am realizing that this is a big change that will initially be very difficult. Last year I did not live in this apartment, but in an apartment literally 2 feet away. I am going to miss being a porch step or closer away. I am going to even miss my roommate's weird penchant for poached eggs, pickles, baby lotion, gnomes, and country music. I actually just got a little chocked up typing that.

Personally, I chose to stay, because I have grown happily accustomed to the ward I am in now. However, I know this has to be my last summer here. No, things will never be the same, but maybe they'll be better? Stagnation is always bad. There's a reason you're more likely to get Giardia in a lake than a running stream. Every new experience and change can make us into (hopefully) better people. As Barney said, make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other is gold. I don't even want to think about what it will be like to leave Provo for good at the end of the Summer. Good thing I'm not an emotional being who occasionally cries over battery commercials.

The Best Worst News I've Ever Received

Well friends, I might as well admit it. I did not get into grad school this time. As sad as I thought I would be at this news, I had a rather fortunate method which informed me of my declining (well, technically I'm on the waiting list... but it won't happen). I thought I may share this with you, so it may bring you to an understanding of why I really am ok with it.

I'll take you to last Friday afternoon. I hadn't heard back yet from this school and I was somewhat curious as to my admission status (ok, I was going bonkers waiting to find out). So, I went ahead and called the school. Being tired of waiting, I left a polite, yet succinct voice mail. Five minutes later I got a call back. Apparently there had been some mailing error, and two of the letters came back with "return to sender". The individual on the phone then informed me of my placement on the waiting list. Way back on the waiting list. Before I can say a word, I am then subjected to a 26 minute onslaught of crazy. During the deluge of weird metaphors and explanations (I was compared to a pile of m&m's and blobs of clay) I had a personal epiphany. There was no way in heck I was going to this school. Yes, I was told how my "energy was not in sync with their program" and how I needed to "continue my spiritual journey to new depths". I was told they do not chose students off of merit, but who they think they feel has the best spiritual connection to their program. They just didn't like my incorporeal energy and my m&m color. Tender Mercies.

While I stayed composed on the phone (it wasn't too hard, I only had to say 4 words in 26 minutes) I thought I would feel the rush of sad when I hung up. Nope. Just overwhelming relief. If I hadn't been exposed to almost a straight half-hour of insanity, I probably would have been very, very disappointed. This was right though. Yeah, I really didn't mesh well with their program. I want to go somewhere where what I have accomplished is respected and where that respect could be mutually shown. It shouldn't require me to defend my (too normal) personality or to be judged because of the religious implications of the school I attended.

So, where does my "spiritual journey" go now? I had put off taking the GRE for too long to make the deadlines for other schools last year. Oh well, the GRE is done now. There is next year. As for where I live, I'll do whatever. Tuscon? San Antonio? West Virginia? I'll be good where ever is just around the river bend. I just need to consult with Grandmother Willow and see where my energies are most in sync.

(I'm really not disappointed)

How to Keep Yourself Occupied

Sometime in my Junior year of college, in the midst of midterms and giant papers, I remember dreaming of an entire week with blissfully nothing to do. In fact, there was one Friday night where I felt a sense of overwhelming guilt after I took 10 minutes to sit down and eat a frozen yogurt, because it drew time away from my 25 page paper. Believe me, I know how horribly stressful it can be when there is so much to do, and no time to do it. Poor choices involving cross country skiis and the Oregon coast have led me to the position I am in today. Which is sitting on my couch at home with an icebag under my leg finishing up season 1 of Battlestar Gallactica.

Strangely, having arrived at my earlier imagined nirvana, I am not as happy as I once supposed I would be. In fact, frankly I am bored senseless. The one benefit to the hours spent alone in my house is that I have devised many ways to keep myself entertained (although, believe me I have come close to painting a giant fresco of myself in The Creation of Adam onto my ceiling... if you haven't seen Rocketman and have no idea what I'm talking about, stop reading this right now and go and watch it! I'm serious!). I list them here, in case you ever find yourself in a similar state. If you are currently scoffing, thinking "No way! I am way too busy! I'll never have a free minute again!" realize that was me 1 short year ago. You never know when life is going to make you into a couch potato.

1. Read News Stories

And I mean all of them. Not only do you know what Snooki's pregnancy cravings are, you now have thorough insight into the implications of Keselowski's 232 lap lead at the food city 500, you know all about how Dun and Bradstreet have suspended production in China due to allegations of violations of anti-bribery laws (scandal!), and you are an expert in the 7 ways you are sabotaging your relationships. Congratulations! In any conversation during the following week, you are officially an obnoxious know-it-all.

2. Learn Phrases in Languages You Will Never Use

There is a reason Al Gore invented the internet. Waar is die badkamer? Miluju roztomilé štěňátka. Täname loed seda. Ĉu vi volas esti mia amiko?

3. Watch Battlestar Galactica

You will lose all self respect, but become proficient at locating cylons posing as humans.

4. Scrapbook

There's a reason your Grandma loves it so much.

5. Re-read the Entire Harry Potter Series

I'm assuming you've already read them at least once, because if you haven't, you need to get your hiney over to Amazon right now and buy the ebook. The glorious thing about the Harry Potter books is that you start on the Sorcerer's Stone, and then you emerge 3407 pages later realizing that you haven't slept or bathed in over 96 hours.

Blast From the Past

Friends, and random readers, I find myself once again at home in Sacramento. Sometime in between punch dancing out my boredom in my backyard to "Sexy and I Know it" and having conversations with our cat, Stewie, I have had time to explore the dark dusty back corners of my room. Now, I haven't really lived at home for an extended period of time since the summer of 2007, so I was intrigued to find little gems from my previous life lurking around in here. These are my most interesting finds.

Box full of Goosebumps books

I'm pretty sure that at sometime around age 10 I stole these from my brother's room. He always got the best stuff. Because my parents love him more. As a child, I was very sneaky and industrious though, and at some point I acquired titles such as The Cuckoo Clock of Doom, The Horror at Camp JellyJam, The Blob that ate Everyone, and one of my personal favorites, Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes, which I will have to be sure to take back to Kelsi. I cherished and read these books many times, put them in a box under my bed, and then forgot about them for over a decade.

Marriage Time Capsule

Now, I can't remember if I was supposed to bury this in my backyard to be discovered in 200 years by my descendants, but currently it was in my closet hiding under my statuette of the Virgin Mary I acquired from my very catholic great-grandmother in 1995. The capsule is a round, metal paint tin-like container coated with a layer of dust and a plethora of heart and "just married" stickers. I believe I crafted this beauty of a container sometime around my beehive or early mia maid years. I carefully pried off the lid, accepting that this premature opening of the capsule may very well curse me to a lifetime of spinsterhood... it's a risk I'm willing to take. There are many papers stuffed in here all written in my 13ish year-old handwriting. There's a "future family" paper in which I planned out the number, gender, and names of my future offspring. Next, I found a somewhat sarcastic letter to my future husband in which I inform him how lucky he is and assure that he must be "roguishly handsome and have a cool last name". There's a few other things such as my predicted wedding colors and date (I put 2025) and then a ton of confetti in the shape of hearts and kisses and that spell out phrases like "I love you".

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Costume

This is probably from Halloween when I was 4 years old. Mine was the Raphael costume on the right. Not only did this find confirm that my mom really did love me (and my brother obviously too, he had the matching Michelangelo outfit) but that she has quite the crafting skills. Those sweet turtle shells are homemade. I had a minor obsession with TMNT when I was a youth. Quite probably because my brother loved them first, and everything my brother did, I did. We're talking soccer, baseball (softball for me), water polo, spanish, BYU, and having a bizarre admiration for Bob Graham.

More than anything, the treasures I have unearthed have shown me three main things. First, growing up in the 90's was fantastic. Second, we don't change that much from childhood. And third, that I am really bored.

Everything I Know About Love I Learned From Romantic Movies

There are many valuable lessons to learn from movies about love. This Valentine's Day, I would to share just a few of the tidbits of wisdom I have gleaned over the years.


While You Were Sleeping

True love can be built on a complete lie, as long as you only let the lie continue to the point where you're only about to marry your true love's brother. Also, be careful the way you lean.

Return to Me

It's perfectly acceptable to stalk your husband from beyond the grave. Just be sure you mark "donor" on your license application.

My Best Friend's Wedding

While hilarity will inevitably ensue, maybe going to your ex-boyfriend-who-you're-still-in-love-with's wedding is not the best of ideas.

Pride and Prejudice

If you are truly dedicated enough, your love can survive economic and educational disparity, patronizing, family incompatibility, and flat out rejection and hatred.

Notting Hill

If you are charmingly awkward enough, you can land a hot Hollywood movie star by merely being yourself.

Serendipity

The universe wants you and your beloved to be together. If you are destined to be together, stop even trying to make it happen. It just will. Years later. Plus, it doesn't hurt to go shopping for gloves.

Sleepless in Seattle

Traveling across the country and stalking someone you heard over the radio is a very effective wooing tactic.

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

Whatever you do, don't let your love fern die.

Happy Valentine's Day!

..And all that Jazz.

(photo courtesy holly mumford)

This post is dedicated to my good friend Matthew Manwaring, who I have now known for about two years. Recently in his blog, he created an entry where the first half attempted to be in my own words. Believe me, the second half of his post was pretty much the same crazy-talk as the rest of his blog. Maybe my frustration in trying to read what he writes centers on my inability to decipher the "deeper meaning". According to those who know Mr. Manwaring even better than me, there is indeed a way to understand what his supposed gibberish is trying to communicate. So, I invite all those reading to this point, especially those in acquaintance with the man we call pappy, to go ahead and read his blog a little first, then I will try and write a summary of my feelings this week in classic Matt Manwaring style. I can only return the favor, Matthew.

Paradise comes at a price. What one I'm not willing to pay. Is it really a paved parking lot? Let me tell you. All the ferrets are fleeing for golden states. But for something better? Turns out they're outlaws. Lock up your bonnie banks. Bet they didn't see it coming. You better ask Barbara. She may not give you much more than a cup of tea. What about stew and all that jazz. It's all meaty and full of vitamin B12. Until it gets you with its enticing blue hue. For What? Only empty stomachs and disappointment. Its time you try something stronger, soldier. Like porridge.

Remember, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery.

Seven Things the World Doesn't Need

The Requirement for Store Employees to Ask "Do You Need Help With Anything?"

I have been asked this so many times while shopping that my reply is already an automatic "No, thank you, I'm just browsing". Then, to convince them I truly am confident of my answer, I wander away looking intently at a pile of shirts in the distance. I feel I should be free to aimlessly rifle through merchandise in peace, without justification. If I needed help, I'd probably just ask. I know who you are, store employee. You're wearing a name tag, so I'm pretty sure I know who to go to if I need assistance. The fact I'm by myself may mean I actually enjoy or perhaps prefer this solitary browsing experience. I don't need store employee Brittany judging me for my taste in clothes. Now, I used to work for Mervyns, so I know that it isn't Brittany's fault. You're told to ask every customer to haplessly wander into your section if they need help with anything. I just wonder if anyone ever likes it when they do. I'm pretty sure most consumers can figure out where things are based on the big signs or determine what it is they came there to buy. You don't need to tell them.

People Who Get Paid to Install Windshield Wipers


Those who know me may be aware that I am not the most mechanically inclined person in the world. It took me several months to learn how to change a mower blade and I ruptured a ligament repairing a lawn edger once. I can count the number of times on one hand I've looked under the hood of my car, which I have now owned for 7 years. One thing I can do is change a windshield wiper. Seriously, it takes 2 minutes. If I can do it, literally anybody can. When I was in WalMart the other day, I saw a sign advertising to change windshield wiper blades for 7 dollars per blade. That's almost more than it takes to just buy them. Seriously, it's like paying someone to brush your teeth or tie your shoes. Which you could do if you're crazy, a Kardashian, or a 13th century monarch. Just install your own dang wiper blades.

Boggle


I hate this game. Not only does my ability to see and recognize words diminish exponentially with each grain of sand that falls in that little hourglass, but this game just gives me a massive headache. Now, I was not blessed with the world's best spacial skills. In fact, ask me to draw a 3D picture, and you will see exactly what I'm talking about. But I'm really not terrible with words. I'm just saying, I did decently well on the verbal section of the GRE and I won a medal in high school for a vocabulary competition. But, I promise you that in this stupid game, I cannot see more than words like "cow" "book" "man". Obviously this is not because of any shortcoming on my part. The game must be inherently flawed. And thus, evil.

Pickles

They're gross. They just are.

Spiders

Just look at it, those spindly legs and weirdly segmented body just scream diabolicalness. Every single one of those 8 eyes are likely glaring malevolently. It's obvious they're out to get us. Name one thing that lurks as much as they do. Even the boy who stalked me once wasn't this creepy. Especially Daddy Long Legs. They're always sitting there in the corner of the ceiling... waiting... And just when you're beginning to drift into a peaceful sleep, they strike. Is that a hair you just felt brush across your face? No, it's one of the Daddy Long Legs' long legs. Good luck falling back asleep.

Newt Gingrich's Presidential Run

That is all that I will say on the matter

Ambiguous Facebook Relationship Statuses

And I mean this with all love towards anyone who finds their self in this tricky dating situation. It's just that I have never seen an "it's complicated" or "open relationship" turn into something more than "single" after a couple weeks. Can't facebook just do us all a favor and not temptingly put this status as an option? It's like watching Hotel Rwanda. You know what's coming.