“I will carry you here in my heart, you remind me”

From my experience, everyone looks back on the years they’ve lived and questions some of the decisions they have made (or not made). It doesn’t mean that they regret the lives they have lived. It merely indicates that our brains are simply that amazing. We have the power to imagine infinite worlds and possibilities. It seems natural that we would consider the deeper questions of the universe, and even more natural to use that imagination to wonder what would have happened if?

I divide my what-ifs into several categories. People, Decisions/Events, etc. Today I’ve been pondering on my people. There are 4 of them; 4 great what-ifs in my life. And on occasion, I look back and say I wonder how my life would be different if this person was a for real (or a not for real) instead of a what-if.

#1 High School Not Sweetheart. Boy, I had a crush on this boy for FOREVER. Even though we didn’t date, I think that a piece of my heart will always belong to him, and to what might have been. It’s the same old story that’s been rehashed a million times by millions of people. We went to high school together, had classes together, so I got to know him. We were friends, and his parents adored me. I think if they could have married us off right then and there, they would have. He was super smart and sweet and fun to be around. It took me over a year to realize that I had a crush on him, and I had a plan to be brave and tell him. One day on the bus after a school field trip during our sophomore year, I noticed he was holding hands with another girl in our class, and I was crushed. They dated on and off through the rest of high school. Shortly before graduation, they broke up for good (at least, I though it was for good at the time) and I was the girl on the other end of the phone, helping to pick up the broken pieces of his life. But alas, as the end of most of these stories go, I was moving across the country at the end of the summer to attend university, and in terms of timing, it just wasn’t meant to be. I’ll always wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been oblivious to my own feelings, or if I had stayed in-state for school, or if I had been less shy when I had a chance to be.

He’s married now. He got married the same month I did, actually, to a lovely, fun, smart woman. He has a beautiful baby girl, and he’s doing exactly what he wants with his life. We still talk on occasion, and it never seems like there has been time or distance between us. We just pick up right where we left off the summer after graduation. (The best friendships are like that). I love him, but not a crazy, swept off my feet, infatuation kind of love. It’s a love that comes from knowing someone for half your life, and supporting each other through good and not-so-good experiences. He’ll always have a spot in my heart, along with his family.

#2 Intelligent Movie Buff. I’m about to walk into a building on campus one evening, when a boy wearing a bath robe and what appears to be war paint on his face rushes past me holding a toy lightsaber. As yells an apology as he rushes past, and I stand dazed and confused for a moment. A few minutes later, he returns bearing his original props, plus a cardboard cutout of a storm trooper– and thus begins our story. We became really great friends (despite my initial skepticism). We had a lot in common, he was smart and funny and had really great hair, and even though I wasn’t looking to be romantically involved with anyone, the heart can’t always help who it falls for. It never worked out– we were both too young to treat each other kindly, or with much honesty. He was in an out of relationships with ex-girlfriends, and I didn’t have the guts to tell him how I really truly felt. I pushed my emotions aside for “the greater good of our friendship.”  I was naive, to put it mildly. We remained friends for the rest of college, and I would dare say friends of a sort to this day. We’ve had our ups and downs and because of him, I learned how to stand up for myself, and to articulate how I want to be treated.

We had a pretty “on again” friendship the summer/fall before I started dating the boy I married. Movie Buff came to my wedding, and we had made peace with our lives. He got married a year later, and we haven’t talked much since. I kind of hate that he is a what-if for me. I wish I could say that I learned my lesson at the beginning, but I’ve spent more time and energy on our friendship/not-relationship than I’d care to admit. I’ll always wonder how my college experience would have been different, and what my dating life would have been like if he hadn’t been the first college crush that informed my opinions on how guys interacted/dated post high school. We’ve been through some pretty emotionally turbulent times together, and somehow we managed to come through it mostly intact.

#3 Husband for a Time. We met in a hot tub. I was visiting with some friends from work. He was there because my friends were his ex-roommates. What more can I say? It just…worked. He asked me out, and I said yes. We dated, got married, and the rest is history. He was the first true love of my life who I knew loved me in return, and who I thought loved me for me. Sadly, things don’t always work out the way you think they will, despite infinite amounts of planning. Sometimes, love just isn’t enough, but it’s not a story that I’m ready to share with the world.

I’ll forever wonder if I was honest with myself when I said yes to marrying him. I’ll forever question myself, wondering if there was more I could have done, something else I could have said to make it better, if I could have sacrificed more of myself to make it work. He’s my what-if not. How would my life be different if I had been smart enough to recognize the signs, and strong enough to act on that knowledge before we committed our lives to each other? I’ll never know, but for better or worse, he’s helped shaped who I am today, and I’m continually working towards being the person that I want to be, and hoping that I’m not too damaged in the process.

#4 Mr. Knows Me Better Than I Know Myself. We met almost a decade ago. According to my roommate at the time, I ruined her chances of marrying him. I’m not so sure that would have happened, even if I  hadn’t moved into that apartment, but it makes for a good story. We became friends, though to this day neither of us can pinpoint exactly when that happened, or what brought us together. Pretty early on in our friendship, I told him that I wanted to date him, but my feelings were unrequited. He shut me down rather bluntly, and it’s taken me the better part of a decade to realize that the words he chose in that moment have subconsciously informed my opinion of myself, though through no fault of his. The blame for that one is entirely upon my shoulders. I’m working hard to undo 8 years worth of learned behaviors and patterns of interaction because I want our friendship to be different. I want to act confident and trust that I’m smart and funny and nice enough to be worthy of his…time? emotions? effort? friendship?  I might not have been, and might not be, worthy of his romantic love and affection, and that’s ok. I’ve often wondered if I had been patient, if I hadn’t let my friends convince me that he was “into me,” if I hadn’t pressed the issue, if we would have dated. I doubt it, but I’ll never know. It doesn’t really matter now. It’s the past, and there’s no point in dwelling on it. He’s my one great what-if that technically remains an open possibility to this day, although in statistical probability, the chances of that happening are smaller than the chances of being hit by a meteor (182,138,880,000,000 to 1).

He’s now one of my best friends. I know that he’s got my back no matter what. He’s been with me through some of the hardest times in my entire life and seen me at my worst. I know that even though he doesn’t say it in these terms, he loves me too. He’s not in love with me– I know the difference and I’m not clinging to any futile hope that he ever would be– but our friendship means the world to me, and someday, I’ll find a way to tell him that. We’ll be celebrating our decafriendiversary next year, and I hope it’s the first of many such monumental milestones in our friendship.

I write all of this to say: you never know where life’s path will lead you, despite best efforts and planning. You can’t help who your heart will choose, and you certainly can’t change the past. Would it really be worth the time and energy to regret any of these people in my life? No, but I spent the time to write because looking back, reflecting on how each of these individuals have helped shape my life and influenced who I have become, that’s invaluable. I know where I’ve been, and as such, I can better know where I’m going.

 

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Fold me like a letter– I’ve gotta send myself to you.

I stumbled across a pile of letters that were written to me over a decade ago, and amidst the laughter and tears, I started thinking about the permanence of putting words on paper (on a screen?). I feel sad for this generation of children who will never know what it was like to write someone a letter, or pass a note in class — they have a much more instant form of communication, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s less meaningful. The joy of sending a letter, the anticipation of waiting for someone to reply, of trying to determine how many pages their letter would be, and finally of getting to rip open the envelope and pour over the words contained within — this generation will have no idea what that feels like. It seems so antiquated. Why would I want to write a paper letter when I can send someone a text or Snap and they get it instantaneously? But a text, a Snap, a mention on Twitter– these things aren’t permanent in the same way. Sure, the internet is forever, but it’s also editable. I can modify or delete a tweet, but I am compelled to stick by the words I wrote in a letter and mailed to you.

Sometimes I think about things too much, you know?

As I continued to read, my thoughts turned to how inevitably sentimental or nostalgic it was– reliving some memories that were evoked by reading what was written, or things that I had written — and of course, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the younger versions of myself. How naive! How determined to get my own way! I was overcome with emotion; literally crying over kind messages that were sent my way, or reliving experiences I’d rather have not dredged up. It was a good emotion though; cathartic and bittersweet. The shared intimacy of having another person’s thoughts on a page in front of me made me wish I could reach out and share it with them, too.

Chuck Klosterman said that “important things are inevitably cliche, but nobody wants to admit that.” (Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs). Well, I was the epitome of cliche as I read on and on. But cliche as it might be,  it’s important, and finally getting my point, why we are encouraged to keep a record in whatever way we can:  to journal, to write, to scrapbook, to express ourselves. Yes, it’s an outlet for the feelings of the moment, but it’s much much more. It’s a lasting record of our lives, our thoughts, our feelings, what society was like. It reminds us of how far we’ve come, the obstacles that we have circumnavigated, the small or large wins we have celebrated, and that yes, we were strong enough to survive through what seemed at the time to be world-ending, apocalyptic events- (no I still haven’t died of heartbreak!).

Therefore, I’m determined to keep writing…again. It might be spotty, it might be inconsistent, and it might be the most terribly written prose that you can read on the internet. BUT, it’s a way to help sort out the thoughts that rattle around in my brain, and if nothing else, will be something to laugh at years down the road.

 

“i’ll be your dream, i’ll be your wish. . .”

Do you ever wonder “hey 18-year-old-self, what the heck were you thinking?” I do. Let me explain.

Earlier today, I decided to clean my room. I had several motivations for doing so, most of which are not important. As part of my cleaning though, I decided to go through my stuff and de-junk. Kind of a spring cleaning, if you will . . . .except at the end of the summer. (When you move from a master bedroom with a walk-in-closet to a super small bedroom with virtually no closet, you would de-junk on a regular basis too!).

Anyways, moving on, so I have this basket full of things that I wanted to keep but really had no room or purpose for. Mostly nostalgic type items, or old paperwork for classes that might prove useful in the future (really? I know, I’m lame and kind of a nerd). So I started going through this basket and ran across a TREASURE from my late childhood. . . .my case of cds — all mixes I had made before moving out of my parents’ home and across the country.

I was browsing through these cds and I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. I can see this going down one of two ways. Either I took myself way too seriously, or I was just in a goofy mood when I made these. Probably a combination of the two. Either way, I popped a particularly embarrassing cd in and literally laughed out loud (not just using the expression here, I really was laughing) at myself. 18-year-old-self, what the hell?

So I just thought I’d share this playlist/cd with you. I hope you laugh as much as I did. (probably not, but you know, worth a shot).

My Amazing Mixes: Volume 9: Cheesy Romance Junk/Song to “slow” dance to

(yep, that really was the title I gave it. . . lame right?!)

  1. Kiss the Girl- Disney Soundtrack    (first song I ever slow-danced to)
  2. Because You Loved Me- Celine Dion   (first song I ever slow-danced to at a church dance)
  3. If You’re Not The One- Daniel Bedingfield   (song Nathan sent me for my 16th birthday)
  4. Arms Wide Open- Creed
  5. Back At One- Brian McKnight
  6. How Do I?- Trisha Yearwood
  7. Hero- Mariah Carey
  8. You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me- Dusty Springfield   (wtf?)
  9. I Love You -Faith Hill
  10. More Than Words- Westlife   (Extreme’s version is way better)
  11. Funny Valentine- Frank Sinatra
  12. I Knew I Loved You- Savage Garden
  13. Breathless- The Corrs     (seriously, you can’t even dance to this?!)
  14. I Swear- Westlife
  15. Remember When It Rained- Josh Groban
  16. 6,8,12- Brian McKnight    (ok, I’ll admit it, I still secretly like this song)
  17. Truly,  Madly, Deeply- Savage Garden
  18. Irresistable- The Corrs    (again, you can’t dance to The Corrs)
  19. I Want To Know What Love Is- Foreigner

“gentlemen never kiss and tell”

A few years ago, my roommates and I were super (definite emphasis on the super) bored, and we created a list. Now, I’m giving you fair warning that this is going to be super lame and really cheesy. So, we created a list of places to kiss/make-out. We created a point system, and assigned bonus points to specific actions/scenarios. Over the last couple years I had forgotten about the list, and hadn’t really thought about it. UNTIL I found it the other day. So without further ado, here is the list.

Rules:

  • + 1 point for kissing, +2 points for making out
  • + if the boy/girl is foreign
  • +saying something creepy during
  • +music being applicable to the situation or anytime during Star Wars
List:
  1. Nordstrom Ladies’ Restroom, Second Floor, Provo Towne Center
  2. Old bridge/dam on 300 South
  3. Random creepy road behind the airport, by the reeds/lake
  4. Back of a police vehicle (+++ with a police officer)
  5. Mary Shurtz’s lovesack
  6. In the bed of a park ranger truck
  7. In the library stacks
  8. In the fountain an Nielson’s Grove Park
  9. Swingset/playground
  10. In an orchard (+++ against a tree)
  11. Salt Lake City Library
  12. Photo booth
  13. Art museum
  14. While playing Rockband
  15. On the roof of the HFAC (BYU campus)
  16. Trainyard (+++ on a train)
  17. In a laundromat/laundry room
  18. Mary’s cabin
  19. In a movie theater
  20. During a rock concert (+++ during a classical concert)
  21. Temple Square (+++  during the holiday lights)
  22. At a Timpview Lacrosse game (+++ during half time on the field)
  23. While horseback riding
  24. At Castle Park
  25. Provo Center Street Lights
  26. During sacrament meeting
  27. In the treehouse at the University Mall
  28. During a comedy show
  29. During Criminal Minds/X-Files
  30. Walmart Parking Lot
  31. On the island on a busy road
  32. At a ward camp-out
  33. In a bathtub (+++ filled with water)
  34. On a ski lift
  35. On a miniature golf  course (+++ on a real golf course)
  36. At a pool party in the pool
  37. On a bridge in the moonlight (+++ in fog)
  38. Against a lamppost
  39. In the background of someone else’s engagement photos
  40. At a funeral
  41. In the fountain at the Gateway
  42. In the primate house at the zoo
  43. On film (tv commercial, student film, etc. . . )
  44. In an elevator (+++ made of glass)
  45. On a trampoline
  46. On a blanket under the stars
  47. Under a staircase in a city building
  48. UVU Library at night
  49. In a dressing room (+++wearing clothes that you are trying on)
  50. In the MTC
  51. In the Testing Center at a university
  52. In an orchestra pit (+++ during a performance)
  53. In your mom’s bedroom
  54. On a boat (+++ while whitewater rafting)
  55. In line at a fast food restaurant
  56. At a government building (+++ during a session of the House/Senate/Congress)
  57. In the common room of a dorm building  (+++ if neither of you live there)
  58. On a test drive
  59. In the apartment of someone that you don’t know
  60. At a bank (+++ with a teller)
  61. On a pool table
  62. During a kid’s story time at a bookstore
  63. At a relative’s wedding (+++ with a member of the wedding party)
  64. In the front seats of a roller coaster
  65. At the Planetarium
  66. At Rape Hill (+++ after midnight)
  67. At a ballet or opera
  68. At a drive-in
  69. In a drive-thru
  70. On a stadium screen at a sporting event
  71. In a telephone booth (+++ a red one in London)
  72. In the UVU Institute Parking Lot tunnel
  73. In any tunnel
  74. In a maze (+++ in a haunted corn maze)
  75. In a hot tub (+++ in snow)
  76. Behind a waterfall
  77. In a cave
  78. On a bus/other public transportation (+++ standing up)
  79. At a video gaming/other nerdlike convention (++++ at San Diego Comic Con)
  80. In a hot air balloon
  81. In the pendulum area of the Eyring Science Center
  82. In the Hall of Flags at UVU
  83. During the Peter Pan ride at Disneyland
  84. On any “tunnel of love” ride at a carnival
  85. On a carousel
  86. On a ferris wheel
  87. In a greenhouse
  88. In a taxicab/backseat of a car (+++ if a relative is driving)
  89. Under a car (+++ with a mechanic)
  90. While ice skating
  91. At Classic Skating
  92. On the Cliffs of Mahon in Ireland
  93. In a window seat
  94. In a gazebo (+++ during a thunderstorm)
  95. In the Hinckley Center gazebo
  96. On a Southern Plantation
  97. During a rainstorm (+++ being outside)
  98. During bumper cars
  99. On a sleigh ride/carriage ride
  100. Re-enacting a scene from your favorite book (or movie)
  101. With an out-of-towner
  102. During Schindler’s List or Hotel Rwanda
  103. At a dinosaur park/museum
  104. At the Christa McAuliffe Space Education Center
  105. At an aquarium (+++ while scuba diving) (+++ in a tunnel surrounded by fish)
  106. During “Starstrukk” by 3OH3! (+++ saying “I won’t leave fingerprints” in a creepy voice)
  107. On the beach (+++ during sunrise or sunset)
  108. At the park with the pond/lake by the Timpanogos Temple
  109. Around a campfire
  110. At IKEA
  111. At Thanksgiving Point during the Tulip Festival
  112. Upside down (Spiderman kiss)
  113. Under fireworks (+++not a holiday)
  114. While dancing (+++ in the kitchen)
  115. During Buffy (+++ a funny episode and NOT laughing)
  116. During the laser show at Stone Mountain
  117. At a rodeo (+++ on a mechanical/live bull)
  118. With Pop Rocks in your mouth
Well, now you have it. I’m sure it will grow over time, but for now, I hope you get a laugh out of it!

“or the fingerprints you left all over my life. . .”

I decided it’s probably time for me to share one of my hobbies. I make cards.  NO, I do NOT scrapbook. Although a lot of the tools and processes are the same, I feel there is a crucial difference. For one, a card can have lots of embellishments and still be cute, where as if you put too many embellishments on a scrap page, it takes away from the pictures (which are the purpose for a scrapbook, right?). Two, cards can use scraps of paper. They are practical, economical, and still cute! Three, cards are meant to be shared! I mean, scrapbooks can be shared, but it’s not like you send a scrapbook to your friend for Christmas or anything.

Rachel's birthday card

The inside says “Wishing you a day of little treasures and simple pleasures. Happy Birthday.” (in blue ink).

This is the card I made today. I was really struggling for a creative idea, and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. However, once the creative juices started flowing, it was a bit easier, and I think it turned out well. Everything on this card was in my scrap pile (except for the blue grid ribbon) and I felt not only crafty, but practical. I didn’t have to cut a huge piece of paper to make a card, and I know that it will be appreciated.

That’s my biggest thing about giving cards away. I want them to be appreciated and I want the recipient to have warm fuzzies. I really do take my time and put effort into these cards. I like looking at them, and I generally take a picture (especially if I am going to give it away) so that I can remember that I actually was creative, and also so I can replicate should the need arise.

I’m debating about making a blog/website for my cards to try to sell them, but I just don’t have the time or energy to start a business right now. Plus, I want to be able to make cards when I feel like, not on demand (although I have been known to make cards for people. . ..if they ask nicely. hehe).  Anyways, I feel like this post is a little disjointed, but I just wanted to be able to share one of my more expensive but fun hobbies.

 

 

“just to hear you say that you love me. . .”

Apparently I don’t adapt to change well. I’d like to think that I do, but in reality, it kind of scares and/or upsets me. I’d prefer (as would I think most people) for things to remain somewhat stagnant; for people to remain in my life, etc. . . That being said, there have been some changes with people in my life,  and it has put me in kind of a funk. I’ve been feeling a sense of abandonment from my close male friends, and while I realize that change is necessary and good, it’s hard for me to not resent growing up and people moving on.

I understand that people are placed in your life for a reason, and more importantly, for a season. I get that. I really do. I just wish that when people moved on, when you aren’t close friends anymore, that it didn’t hurt so bad. I wish that it didn’t feel like our entire friendship had been a pretense, and that when it came down to it, other people are more important.

As I was laying on the couch in my room (yes, I have a couch in my bedroom), feeling particularly resentful of a situation in which I had inadvertently placed myself in, I was kicking myself for trying so hard to remain friends with people who, in my mind, obviously don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about them. I was contemplating my friendships, and attempting to ascertain what course of action I should pursue next when I had a small revelation. It wasn’t particularly new information, or groundbreaking, but more a change in perspective that has changed my outlook.

I am someone, a friend, who can be counted on. My friends love me and need me. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t talked in a year. The important part is that when something happens, when they just need a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear, I can be that person for them. More than effusions of love and gratitude, the mere fact that my friends trust me enough to confide in me speaks volumes of their appreciation and affection.

As I thought about this some more, I thought about how easy it is to view things in a negative light. Nothing changed tonight, except for my perspective and attitude. I am grateful to have friends that count on me. It’s nice to be needed.

 

I have so many thoughts bouncing around in my head right now, and I can’t seem to focus on any one activity, so I figure if I try writing them all out, it might help my ADD-ness tendencies out a lil bit.

First topic: boys. Why do I have such weird taste in boys? I guess weird is the wrong word to classify it. Hm, now I’m having trouble pinpointing the exact adjective I want to use. Maybe unpredictable??? I never know who it is that I will randomly decide to be attracted to. And it’s just such an odd feeling because then I just want to talk to them all the time. I think maybe that boils down to the fact that I need friends. Or a therapist. Or a blog. Just some venue where I can formally submit all the random thoughts that pop into my head. Let’s start with finishing this blog post. Then maybe to make some friends. I can’t be *that* hard to get along with.

Two: video games. I suck at playing video games, but I like doing it. Well, I like doing it when I can do it. If I get stuck on a level or something doesn’t go right, I get frustrated. But let’s face it. I’m a nerd, and I play games. Today we beat LOTR: Conquest on the “good guys” campaign. I think I’ve officially jumped head-first into nerd-dom.

Three: work. I don’t want to work anymore. I want a fairy godmother to come and turn me into a princess. I don’t necessarily want to get swept off my feet by a charming and handsome prince, but some lifestyle security without having to slave away for corporate America might be nice. That being said, my next day off isn’t for a whole week. I think I might die!

Four: pizza. I really like pizza, but I always order more than I’ll ever be able to eat, justifying it by telling myself that I’ll save it and eat it for the rest of the week. Does that ever happen? No.

Five: roommates. I think I made my roommate upset today. Her boyfriend came over while she was at work, and he was just chilling here between classes because we live fairly close to the university. We ended up playing video games, and while I didn’t think it was a big deal, apparently the fact that he spent time with me and not her is a big deal. I mean, I guess I get it, but she should trust me. I am so not interested. Plus it was nice to be able to exhibit some nerdliness and play LOTR.

Six: people I dislike. I have a major character flaw, and I’m going to reveal it right now. If I think you are going to irritate me, I tune you out. It works out better for me in the long run because then I don’t sit there and want to dig my eyeballs out with a plastic spoon while I listen to you talk. However, if I end up in a situation where I am forced to listen to someone talk, then the future does not bode well for either me or the person exercising their right to look stupid.

Seven: emoting. Everyone has emotions. I get that. And it’s important to be able to share your emotions with someone so they don’t bottle up inside you and then you blow up. Been there, done that, understand the concept of sharing. However, there is a time and a place, and FACEBOOK IS NOT IT! I don’t want to read status updates about how you “feel” or whatever emotional roller coaster you are on at the time. I like to put quotes as my status. A general “this is how I’m feeling” but still being somewhat private and keeping my emotional angst to myself.  And certainly please don’t say awkward things about how you feel around me. I don’t deal. For example. . . “I’ve been rejected 3 times already for a date this weekend.”  One, as a female I wonder “hm, what possibly could these other women have seen that made them not want to go on a date with you” [dripping with sarcasm]. Two, as a female it puts me in a super awkward position of saying  “oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with you” without either volunteering myself as a potential date, or revealing that I really don’t care whether you get a date or not. Keep the awkwardness to yourself! It is just weird.

Eight: Little Big Planet. Best. Game. Ever. The. End.

Nine: sleep. How do I function on 5 hours of sleep? It honestly is a mystery to me. Seriously, don’t people need more sleep than this? Maybe my ADD/OCD-ness is a manifestation of acute sleep-deprivation?

Ten: random. I think I’m a random person. I mean, reading this blog would most likely give someone a massive headache, and props for anyone who can decipher my brain. I think maybe that I’m crazy.

Eleven: back to boys. How do you tell if you are over an ex? I don’t think I am, although I would never admit that out loud to anyone except Lizzie Lou Who. I think maybe it’s not healthy to still think about someone who obviously doesn’t care that you’re still breathing.

Twelve: now that some of that is out of my system, I’m going to bed. Good night world.

“haywire, you’ve got me goin’ haywire”

I’m going to admit to one of my fatal flaws. Impatience. I don’t like waiting for things. I especially don’t like being stagnant waiting for things. If I have to wait, I’d much rather have something to do so that I don’t think about whatever it is I’m waiting for. I just hate it, and I know that I hate it, and I suppose someday I’ll have to learn how to be patient in all aspects of my life, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy it.

For example, I was waiting in the airport last week to fly home. Well, to fly back to where I live. I guess you could call it home. That’s besides the point, so I get to the airport 90 minutes before my flight is supposed to leave. That’s pretty standard. They starting board 20-30 minutes before the departure time, and you want to make sure you get through the massive amounts of people who are checking their luggage (which now costs money?!?!?)  and then go through security, so 90 minutes is totally legit. I get to the airport, get checked in, go through security, get stopped by security because I have a laptop in my bag and apparently that’s a bad thing, get through security, grab a cup of hot chocolate, find my terminal and sit down. All good so far. Well, the boarding time which is oh-so-clearly printed on the boarding ticket rolls around and there is no indication from the airline employees that we’ll start boarding the plane. Departure time rolls around, and still nothing. I’m getting a little irritated at this point because they should at LEAST say something to the full-plane’s-worth of people sitting in the terminal. About 20 minutes after the original scheduled departure time, the attendant at the desk tells us there is an electrical problem, and that we won’t be able to fly until they get it resolved. She also includes that she has no idea when that will be, she’s sorry for our wait, and please will we not wander too far away in case they fix it and start boarding.

Great, so I’m sitting in the terminal for an indefinite amount of time for an undetermined reason. This is really awesome. I start to read. Other people around me (like this SUPER annoying lady and her family) start to get agitated and keep going up to the desk to see what the status of the flight is or if they can get on another flight. I was surprisingly calm. Not pleased with the situation, but I knew that I’d rather be safe flying than take off with an unspecified problem and crash somewhere over New Mexico where they would never find our bodies. I read, and 100 pages later (which isn’t really an indication of time because normally I’m a fast reader, but I’m having a hard time with this particular book, so it’s taking me longer to read it), we still hadn’t boarded. 3 hours go by, and it’s beginning to look like I should just leave the airport and walk home. It would probably be faster. BUT. . . they decide to let us board the plane, which seems like a miracle after sitting in the terminal for ages. We get on the plane, prepare for take off, and taxi on the runway for AN HOUR. Luckily, the flight wasn’t full any more, and I wasn’t sitting next to anyone, so I curled up on the seat and tried to fall asleep. But seriously 4 hours later we were in the air.

This is all well and good for the story. We finally take off. But so many people (including myself) had a connecting flight in Dallas that we missed due to this “unidentified electrical error.” So in Dallas I have to try to get my flight switched. Luckily, the lady on the other end of the rebooking phone was super nice and efficient. She got me on another flight, apologized about my delay, told me where the gate was, and assured me that I would arrive at my final destination by the end of the evening (which is good because I REALLY didn’t want to pay for a hotel).  I only had to stay in Dallas for 75 minutes, tops. I truly was grateful that there was another flight that left so soon. So I finally get home, wait around for my baggage, and then get to leave the airport and go home. All in all, I left the house at 9 am that morning, and got home at 1:15 am the next morning (if you figure the time zone difference, I actually got home at 11:15 pm, but that would have meant that I left at 7 am).  But I was “en route” for 14 hours. That makes for a pretty long day when you were only figuring to be traveling for 5 hours max.

I think the lesson I was supposed to learn was patience. Like I said, I was surprisingly calm. I didn’t pace, or get angry with anyone. I didn’t even yell at super-annoying-lady who wanted the airline to fly her straight to LA because she had a delay. Ha, like that’s going to happen. Nope, I was calm. I had the resigned air of someone who knows that fate is against her on that particular day and doesn’t have the energy to fight it.

But my point is, although writing this experience out has been vexing, and making me irritated at my experience all over again, it’s important to be patient, which I am not. I hate finishing up all my tasks at work and having to wait for the next manager to come in so I can leave. In fact, the other night, I literally sat by the door, keys in hand so that I could walk out when he got there. I seriously was done with the place and needed to be gone. But I had to wait. I hate waiting for people to call when they say they will, and then they don’t. I hate waiting around for people to reach the same conclusions I’ve already come to, and then we can start doing something now that we’re all on the same page. I just really don’t like waiting.

Maybe part of the problem is our fast-paced, instant gratification society. We have all kinds of short-cuts to make things go faster, more efficiently, easier. That’s not what I want to talk about though. I just need to talk about the fact that I am super impatient and I know it’s flaw that will bring about much unhappiness in my life if I don’t learn how to relax and be, well, patient. I’m trying, I really am. Admittance is the first step to solving the problem. I just wish it didn’t take so long!

new blog

Hey y’all.

I started a new blog to foster gospel discussion since my stake cancelled their institute class. If you would like to participate, please feel free to leave comments. I just want to be able to discuss, throw out new ideas. . .basically still be in institute! I’m going to try and post at least once a week (which is a very lofty goal for me).  The address is ldsinstitutediscussion.wordpress.com. Feel free to share with others!

Thanks for reading.

“can’t you see that you’re smothering me?”

What is it about unresolved issues in our past that we can’t seem to let go?  Why is there an impulsive need to finish things embedded in our heads? Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just need to know reasons, and I’ve always been that way. Maybe that should be my new personal goal. Learn how to leave things in the past, and move on. But the thing is, I have moved on.  I have a great apartment, I’m furthering my career in several aspects, and new. . .flirtation if you will, and so many things have changed. So why do I act the way I do?

I feel really stupid right about 30 minutes ago. I just sent a text. Seemingly simple, just a cool quote from a book that I’m currently reading that I thought would be interesting to share and thought provoking. Sometimes it just takes a little food for thought to stimulate great  conversation. But it backfired and elicited a very negative response. I didn’t realize that the desire to remain friends was so repulsive, especially since I didn’t initiate the gesture. I don’t feel that I was out of line, but apparently I was. Maybe subconsciously I meant for it to hurt, to sting and to never let it rest. But that’s petty and rude and I just need to move on I suppose. Maybe I just don’t know. Maybe the thought of losing someone important to me is just too much for me to handle and I don’t know how to deal.

Or maybe today is just a rainy Friday and I was bored. Who knows? All I know is that it has to end. I have to have more self-control or it’s going to explode in my face. All I wanted to do was share something I found really interesting. Now I see that even the simplest of gestures makes me look like an idiot. It’s time to let it go.

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