A Little More Validation.

Natural Anxieties

           Don’t say things like that; don’t ever say things like that. She whispered this into the receiver of the mustard colored rotary phone. She sank on the loveseat next to the end table the phone resided on. She stiffly leaned on the armrest and went silent. She lifted her eyes and looked out the window to her left. She grabbed the phone base with her left hand, slowly lifted herself off the couch and walked over to the sheer cream curtains. She moved them aside with her right elbow, the elbow attached to the hand holding the receiver.

            She stared as fatal snowflakes fell and swooped in the air. There was no light on in the apartment building across the street. There were no cars driving, just sleeping on the street below. She muttered an mmhmm while nodding her head. She was still having a conversation, she continued it by mumbling that there were no humans outside there were no living things at all. There is just snow out there is what she explained to the phone. It must be as high as my waist she predicted to the phone. As she said this last part, she lifted the phone base to rub against her hipbone. Her hipbones, and all her bones, were hidden beneath a pair of crimson Stanford sweats and a navy Harvard sweatshirt. Her head bone was only hidden by her face and short brown hair.

            She tucked the phone receiver between her should and ear and wiped the window with her sleeve. She didn’t reveal what she was looking for. She grabbed the phone with her hand and explained that she had just wiped the window off and it didn’t make anyone appear. She explained to the phone that she was quite worried because he had gotten off work three hours previous.

Validation.

Here’s the piece I wrote for my CW class that my professor told me was terrific. I’m not doing this to gloat (that’s what my Facebook post was for. ha!) – this post is in response to requests. Please not this isn’t based off of me, I just felt like including my own fear of Marry Poppins…

I fear

Things that go bump in the night; wind crashing, swaying, screeching in the night; wind not screeching in the night but stealthily tapping on the windows, knocking the knuckles of tree skeletons against the glass; silence except for a tense cloud over the house you reside in alone; having a fairytale love story; refusing a fairytale love story; falling off the tip of the Empire State Building, though visiting it is not in the foreseeable future; double, double toil and trouble; boiling water; crowds; corners in busy buildings; corners in any building but my own home; the way cars look as if they have eyes and a straight-lipped mouth; my bike someday breaking, forcing me to ride inside a car with a straight-lipped mouth; the straight-lipped mouth hitting me as I cross the busy intersections taking me to my job; having to find a job other than mine at the library; having to answer the phone at the library; Edgar Allen Poe; Shakespeare being a myth; falling in love – real love, Jane Eyre-love; promising things in the heat of a moment; not delivering on said promise; first dates; last dates; first kisses; no kisses; Styrofoam – scratchy, coarse, infecting Styrofoam – it never rubs off of your skin; drowning in Styrofoam; working somewhere that forces me to touch Styrofoam; doing something bold – not bold  in a promiscuous way, though that fits, bold in a world-changing way; having to give a speech to strangers after a change-the-world bold move; never making any sort of move; making the wrong move; the Raven; people in costumes at amusement and theme parks; losing control of my resolve and attacking someone in a costume at a park with families watching and judging me as the park authorities take me away in handcuffs never to see the light of day again; not being alerted to someone making a phone call to me; not knowing the topic I’ll be discussing with another; knowing the topic I’ll be discussing with another person and not preparing adequately thereby causing the conversation to lag or become unbearably boring; being psycho-analyzed; having the chance to meet Freud; Mary Poppins; Mary Poppins murdering me in my sleep with her umbrella which most people don’t realize is a rather sophisticated weapon; her army of chimney sweeps; the cloud she flies on that happens to double as tracking device on whomever she has targeted as her next victim; seeming like I don’t love Disney; getting to the end of a puzzle to have the last piece missing; being the missing piece in someone’s puzzle; being the puzzle; me, myself, and I; me not recognizing myself and loathing I; any combination of dissonance between I, myself and me; stepping on the last step with my left foot; falling, tripping, descending any sort of elevation in a less-than-graceful way; being called graceful, living under the pressure of all that word implies; wet paper; wet plastic grocery bags; missing the first snow; getting stuck in the first snow; stuffed animals; paintings of centuries ago where the eyes in the picture follow the one viewing it; getting stranded in a bell tower; being pushed out of a bell tower by Jimmy Stewart; pushing Jimmy Stewart out of a bell tower; not pushing Mary Poppins out of a bell tower; offending a nun; not making fun of nuns; being struck by lightning; being killed by that strike of lightning; complaining too much; going out at night; staying home all weekend; zucchini – not the bread though, just the fruit in its original form; calling zucchini a fruit when it’s really a vegetable; finding more to add to this list.

dreams are relative.

my dreams are little stories. little, oddly-detailed, freaky stories. here’s last night’s:

my family had been invited to a new disneyland attraction cause some of us have annual passes. walt disney owned a huge mansion not far from the actual park and they were holding some kind of dinner and program there. when we showed up there was a long willow tree framed courtyard with hot cider and homemade donuts leading up to the bridge that led to the mansion. it was halloween time and it was decorated accordingly. my family made the way to the mansion and started casually talking to some of the other people who had come. no one knew exactly what the program was or how it was going to take place.

i started walking around and saw a girl from high school. she was in a motorized with her wheelchair and i recognized her mom standing next to her. she was wearing a shirt that said ‘future bride’ and we caught up on life. she was really excited to get married cause she had developed cerebral palsy and couldn’t believe someone had still found her to be someone to be in love with (yeah, i know either). she was telling me about the place they were going to by when an announcement was piped through the whole mansion. it was now time for dinner and following that the games would begin.

so in dreams the dreamer is privy to all sorts of information, right? well, half way through the dinner i realized what the games would be. the games were the adult version of disney’s halloween – it was a race to escape death. the last person lost in the mansion would be killed except they had chosen the person ahead of time and made sure there was no way for that chosen person to escape. i realized that it was my friend from high school who had been picked cause she was weaker and couldn’t run and her wheelchair was easy enough to break and/or stop.

i told her what was going to happen and told her i was going to get her out and then find my own way out. she was hysterical and terrified cause there was no way to contact her fiancee  -  they had shut off the cell service. after dinner they blared a horn and everyone took off running. my family had made it out and me and my friend had somehow ended up in the basement. the last part of the dream i remember i was following my friend down the hall holding a sawed off shotgun. the floor opened and i heard her crash underneath. someone in a captain hook costume was behind me, i fell backwards through the hole in the floor. i got up, pointed the gun upward and into the face of captain hook. then i woke up. d

yeah, i don’t know either. i really don’t know.

Thanks to the “nice” guy.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s below for a few days. I will be the first to admit I don’t share my gratitude often enough and I think this particular group of guys experience this the most. It’s not so much not showing gratitude as it is just taking them for granted – a complaint I’m sure they all have.

I want to say thanks to the “nice” guy. To the “awesome” guy. To the guy that knows he’s not a dillhole and holds to staying the way he is though the alternative seems to  have more going in its favor. Thank you for having a personality beyond your biceps and how many girls you’ve laid. Thank you for having hobbies and beliefs that add depth. Thank you for being able to talk about more than a girl in disgusting ways. Thank you for treating people with respect, men and women. Thank you for never making a person uncomfortable by your topic of conversation. Thank you for watching awful chick flicks cause you know it makes your sister happy, your mom happy, the girl you like happy. Thank you for not being embarrassed by how much you love your family and how much you need them and they need you. Thank you for having a heart and wearing it on your sleeve at times. Thank you for being a dork and quirky. Thank you for liking Harry Potter when you do and pretending to like it when you don’t. Thank you for liking video games but not living in them. Thank you for having a sense of humor. Thank you for planning dates around the girl and not your dog. Thank you for acting nervous. Thank you for turning red (I really appreciate knowing I’m not the only person). Thank you for opening doors for girls whether you know them or not. Thank you for smiling when you find something cute. Thank you for showing feeling. Thank you for being enthusiastic about more substantial things than mini-skirts and loud engines. Thank you for being the nice one.Thank you for being the awesome one. Thank you for being patient and not selling out. Thank you for hoping that someday a girl will show up that you won’t be scared to talk to – she’s hoping a guy she won’t be scared to talk to will show up as well. Thank you giving girls hope not every guy is a dillhole that seems to be a black hole sucking away good people and true happiness. Thank you for recognizing what a woman is and how a man should treat her.

Some girls are just slow and jaded from previous jerks. Don’t give up.

I know it’s definitely a “nice” guy I’ll be keeping my eye out for.

 

 

*I realize some of these are generalizations, I sincerely hope that doesn’t detract from my thanks. This was sincere. This was based on some of the “nice” guys I know and appreciate a GREAT deal. 

Call me “Juan.”

This post is for Brenna, though I fear it’s not exactly what she wants. You see, I can’t capture my new place in pictures until my room is clean. So, how about a little story…

About a month and a half ago, I was giving my car its annual bath. About two feet away from my complex there’s a car wash place. It was my day off, it was one of the only sunny days Utah had had and would have for weeks so I set about running some errands and avoiding my finals — this lead me to the location of my story.

I was doing a “pre-rinse” when I realized this wasn’t going to turn out well. I’m the least graceful female on the face of the earth. In the two minutes I had had the water running I had managed to soak the bottom of my pants, hit myself in the head with the hose three times and I had slid into my car twice. I was soaked and looked ridiculous. I was brushing the car with that magical rainbow foam when this lady walks into my partition of the car wash with her head down muttering something in Spanish. I didn’t say anything because I was waiting to see if she’d slip into my car too. I was hoping she would cause then I wouldn’t feel quite so stupid.

She looked up as she was trailing off in her dialogue and became extremely embarrassed. She hurried an apology and then said, “I’m sorry, you looked like my husband as I walked by.” Ok. What?! Now, I know I’m not a girly-girl but seriously?! I just laughed with her and told her it was no big deal. She kind of shuffled out quickly, still not slipping into my car, and disappeared around the corner. At this point I had to see what her husband looked like: I don’t typically think of myself as a particularly good-looking male figure. Just a few minutes later he walked by to change a few more dollars into quarters.

He was Mexican. He had a mustache. I’ve got a girl butt and child-bearing hips. He does not. I do have a chest (see previous post for that information). He did not, not in the same way. I HAVE BLONDE HAIR AND BLUE EYES AND SOMETIMES I WEAR EARRINGS. HE HAD BLACK HAIR, A MUSTACHE AND A SLEEVE TATTOO. I have included a comparison of our looks below.

I’m not sure how fast that lady had to have been walking for my features to look darker and more exotic but I am curious. This is why I now have a Mexico flag hanging from my rear-view mirror like they did, this is why I eat dinner at Beto’s every night and this is you may now call me “Juan.”

Hips Lie. Hopefully.

Once upon a time, in the Ville of Center, I became friends with a young lady name Laura. We’ve been good friends ever since we started working together. At least I think we have — as far as I’m concerned we have. Now, I occasionally blame things on her without even realizing it. Yesterday, actually, I was working on our broken cash machine and she asked me who had created the problem. “Laura,” I said. “Laura did it.” She didn’t do it, I’m just mental come finals week. While Laura and I worked together, we shared many a story about boys – we had some pretty awesome ones. Laura found the boy who all the stories would be about hereafter. They’re getting married! So, Laura asked me to be a bridesmaid. As a person who has never been a bridesmaid and has never been one to date much at all, my first concern was when the wedding was because I usually need around a year to find a date for things. I have a new concern: the units used when my dress measurements were written.

Last Thursday, Laura and I went to go get my measurements. The lady was very nice and stood there looking at me expectantly with her tape measure in hand. I just awkwardly smiled at her wondering what she was waiting for. “You need to lift your arms up so I can measure your bust,” she said.

“Oh, heh. Ok.”

She measured my bust and wrote the number down. I was pleasantly surprised. Don’t judge. She moved down, measure my waist and then moved to my hips. Now, up until this point I figured those measurements were in inches but there is NO way my hips were measured in inches. I won’t accept that answer. There are “hip measuring units,” right? I can accept that answer cause at such a point I can’t equate the number she wrote down to anything and I feel better about that situation. I was thinking maybe it’s a numeric code! However, all that theory leads to is a bunch of uninspiring phrases.

When I was a little girl, I watched Peter Pan and loved Tinkerbell. My mom always told me I looked like her and acted like her (insert impish giggle). Well, as I grew up I stuck with the Tinkerbell thing. You know the scene where Tink is flying around the nursery, flies over the looking-glass and lands on it to admire herself. Remember how she notices how obscenely large her hips are compared to the rest of her and how depressed she looks? I did that exact thing in the dress shop. I still think those measurements were taken in some sort of foreign unit which makes my first measurement a lot less exciting now. There you have it, apparently I have child-bearing hips without the pain of ever having had a child. Yay me.

Random Facts

So, me and my roommate, KayCee, are blogging whilst we wait for out third roommate to finally get home so we can hear exactly how she ended up kidnapped. We decided to blog about the same things cause we’re … awesome … like that. Here you go — 15 things you probably don’t care to know about me:

1. I drink a gallon of milk every week. Apparently, this is quite a lot to many people.
2. I sing the instrumental parts to songs, almost always.
3. I love dissonance in music. I love it a lot.
4. I have one of the creepiest memories I have ever encountered. I hope it somehow wins someone over someday. It’ll either be my memory or my speech-dyslexia.
5. I love notebooks. I own quite a few of them, all different sizes and most of them are empty. I just LOVE them though!
6. I have never been to a drive-in movie.
7. I tried a wedding dress on a few weeks ago cause my 10 year old sister has incredible manipulative powers. Am I getting married? Not that I’m aware. Was it fun? Yes. I never thought I’d admit that.
8. I feel like I’m cheating on my car cause I am still in love with my old Honda. I feel like me and my car are making it work cause we have to. I miss being in love with my car.
9. I love snow. I don’t ski or snowboard – yet – but I love snow.
10. I love the way wheat fields look in the wind. I think they’re gorgeous!
11. I remind my roommate of Boo from Monsters, Inc. Why? The world may never know.
12. I love Alfred Hitchcock but am terrified of Haunted Houses.
13. If I could meet people from history it’d be (just naming a few) George Washington, Winston Churchill, Miles Davis, John Adams, William Shakespeare and John Keats.
14. This list has taken me at least a half hour. I’m awful at these.
15. Here, have a quote I love:

There is one thing more powerful than the armies of the world, and that is an idea whose time has come. ~Victor Hugo

Congratulations on finishing this. G’Night.

Nothing.

I’m basically avoiding studying for my history test. I’ve studied for the last three nights for at least two hours every night. If that can’t get me a passing grade then I don’t want one anyway.

Random tidbit 1: I’m sitting in the basement of the Union Building and they play music videos on the TVs down here. Well, I just realized that every time I’ve glanced up to see what it’s playing, there’s a toothless man sitting underneath it that smiles and me and nods his head repeatedly. I don’t think I’ll ever watch a music video again, just in case he shows up.

Random tidbit 2: I’m going to Jamaica in July and am super excited!! I also need to get into shape. Oy.

Random tidbit 3: I moved to Sandy a couple of weeks ago and I love it! It’s hard being away from my family but I’m loving being independent.

*just looked at tv out of curious habit. DOOM*

Random tidbit 4: Walking into the Union Building I felt like I was in Boston for approximately 1.2 seconds — which was more than enough time to miss Boston immensely.

Random tidbit 5: I think that toothless guy is walking over here………

Random tidbit 6:  Looked to check. I can chalk that one up to AWFUL decisions.

Random tidbit 7: Did you know that during the Tang Dynasty they had an Empress? She was freaking crazy! She started out as this concubine and made sure the Emperor heard how brutal and sick she was and it amused him. Then, she married his heir after killing his original wife by torturing her to death! (That counts as me studying, ok?)

Random tidbit 8: I’ve had so much crap to eat in the last couple days I’ve ALMOST considered going vegetarian for a week. I wouldn’t make it two days.

Random tidbit 9: I want one of these. It’s wonderful

Random tidbit 10: You deserve some kind of prize for reading this whole stupid thing.

Have an awesome day!

Shrimp Balls.

My friend Brenna predicted this post. Ten points to Gryffindor! Saturday night was a semi-annual dinner where a bunch of friends from high school and I get together and eat a bunch of food and catch up. It’s wonderful. We had sat down and were scouring the menu (I had no idea what I was doing. This was only my 2nd Thai food experience. Ended up with shrimp balls that probably could’ve bounced for miles down the road). We hadn’t been perusing long when these two couples walked in and sat down at a table adjacent to us. The girls were sash-ay-ing (no clue how to spell that one) over to their seats in their cute little yoga pants and tight zip-up hoodies while their boyfriends/husbands argued about the seating arrangements, clad in basketball shorts, running shoes and t-shirts. These people were basically doing their cool-down while they were ordering their food — deep breathing, stretches, circle-of-life arm movements and everything. Of course, I opened my big mouth and started asking why anyone on earth would go out to eat in their work-out clothes. Have I ever mentioned I have impeccably retarded timing? Brenna started laughing and Mariah tried to hide. I had shown up just as they had found their seats and hadn’t noticed the fact that Mariah was in her work-out clothes too. Yeah, retarded timing. So, now I feel like a horse’s patoot and I feel obligated to share an experience when I went out to eat in my work out clothes.

I went to the local frozen yogurt place and decided to go in my work-out/pajamas/going-out sweats. I felt like I looked super healthy in said outfit eating frozen yogurt cause yogurt is so dainty and healthy and crap. Well, I think now when I go out to eat frozen yogurt in this attire I’m going to do lunges through line and do two squats for every bite I take. This way, like the ridiculous couples at that Thai food restaurant (who I think ordered ice water. with super extra ice. maybe a leaf of lettuce or two) I will appear healthy … and some one will take to a blog to write about it?

Ok, here’s the random stuff: I need to be more open-minded when it comes to men because British mini-series’, movies, and tv shows have ruined any chance a man from this century and country has, as far as I’m concerned. Wait, unless it’s Spencer Reed, Neville Longbottom or Shawn Spencer. As of today, I’m far more likely to let these guys into my house than most other guys.

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I know the last one is based in this century but I’m talking the original Sherlock, ok? Anyway, that’s enough creepy pictures for now … moving on.

Random item #2. Can Harry Potter 7.2 be out now? Seriously!! When are they releasing an official trailer? Have I already missed it? Warner Brothers is killing me!

Random item #3. Katy Perry, I do NOT feel like a plastic bag floating around. Who would? Seriously? How about a dried leaf? With all the people out there tanning today that’s a far more likely comparison. I guess that’s what you get when you have songs written for you.

Random item #4. Can it be baseball season with weather to match now? Also, if you want to throw in some tickets to a Red Sox game and round-trip airfare to Boston that would be fantastic.

Random Item #5: Here, have a Peter Pan quote:

Of all the delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed. When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming, but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very nearly real. That is why there are night-lights.

Well, this post was totally pointless. Have an awesome night. OH! I’m moving out next weekend!! So excited. Also, If you happen to see one of the pictured gentlemen roaming around the streets — send him my way.

I’m checking out.

This is my facebook status right now: I heard on the news that life in cancelled tomorrow?? Please tell me I heard right.

My friend asked me what that meant. This is what it means: It means that for one day I would like to just do nothing. Not fix people’s problems at work, not do the 3 papers I have due next week, not have to worry about having enough money to pay for crap, not have to do *anything*. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Just read a book that I’m not assigned to read, watch a movie and not feel bad, eat waffles for breakfast and french toast for dinner, work on a quilt, take a 3 hour nap, be Peter Pan. I want my mom to blow bubbles while I run around and pop them. I want to jump in a puddle and feel like I’m 5. I want to crunch leaves under my feet. I want to wear big bows in my hair. I want to play hide and seek and still be able to fit under the bathroom sink. I want my homework to take a grueling 20 minutes like it used to. I want to fall asleep listening to my mom sewing a quilt. I want to run through the sprinklers, dry off and then run through them again. I want to believe there are tiny people living in the grass. I want to catch sunshine in a bottle. I want that sunlight to leak into my heart and never leave. I want to smile like I did when I was 6. I want someone to kiss it all better. I want to have jelly sandals again. I want to play steamroller with my dad and have face-making contests. I want to be Peter Pan.

That just sounds wonderful right now.

Ok, I feel better. Have a fabulous night, all!