Nineteen

I am in this weird spot in my life. I'm 19, so technically I am an adult. I'm 19, so technically I am a teenager. What am I supposed to do with all this? I will tell you what I am doing.

I have a piggy bank. Because I am a teenager I picked out the cutest one and named him Orville. Because I am an adult, I love feeding him.

I want to read an encyclopedia. Because I am a teenager, I realize this is nerdy. Because I am an adult, I don't care.

I text. Because I am a teenager, it is an oft repeated ritual. Because I am an adult, I use correct grammar and don't shorten my words (example: R U there? NO!).

I am suddenly a neat freak. Because I am a teenager, my first year at college was messy to say the least. Because I am an adult, I appreciate a clean room and organization on a whole new level.

Politics are coming onto my radar. Because I am a teenager, politics seem distant and it is okay if I don't understand everything about them. Because I am an adult (and living in DC helps too), politics seem very close and understanding them is something I am working very hard on.

I run around in sweatpants. Because I am a teenager, I can be sloppy. Because I am an adult, I go to college and can walk around looking like a college kid. But also because I am an adult, I don't wear them nearly as much as I used to.

Sometimes, I make really unwise choices. Because I am a teenager, I am allowing myself to make mistakes. Because I am an adult, I am not allowing myself to make them again and make it a point to learn from my mistakes.

I go to college. Because I am a teenager, I have to take a lot of foundations classes and sometimes skip class. Because I am an adult, I love my major and am eager to learn so I try to avoid skipping.

I am experiencing very active tear ducts. Because I am a teenager, this is expected.  I will add that, because I am my mother's daughter, this is permissible. But, because I am an adult, I try very hard to control my ridiculous eyes.

I go to church. Because I am a teenager, I fuss a little over my outfit. Because I am an adult, I appreciate what is said and the spirit that is there much more.

I live in Idaho almost eight months of the year. Because I am a teenager and a Maryland girl, this can get rather boring sometimes and I miss my family and friends a lot. Because I am an adult, I see it as an opportunity to grow up.

I shop. Because I am a teenager, a lot of my purchases are clothes and food. Because I am an adult, I spend a lot less and save for important things like college and Russia.

I read magazines. Because I am a teenager, sometimes I go to people.com. Because I am an adult and a polisci major to boot, I read The Economist cover to cover every week.

I cook. Because I am a teenager the list of things I can make and make well is very short, and I often call my mom to ask her how many cups 16 oz makes. Because I am an adult, I am trying to lengthen that list and sometimes I look cooking terms up on the internet.

I surf the web. Because I am a teenager, I go onto facebook, youtube, gojane.com, and watch TV. Because I am an adult, I go to news sites and read about the world. I also look up airplane ticket costs and read blogs.

This new place in my life where I have feet in both camps is kind of wearing on me. Sometimes I am treated like an adult, and sometimes like a teenager. For instance, my little car is broken, so if I ever need to get somewhere my parents or friends have to drive me. Teenager. In church, I work in the Primary. Adult. I have a full-time job. Adult. It is a nannying position. Teenager.

See??? Nineteen is just a weird place to be, but also a nice place. It is when you're at the end of being a kid, and the beginning of being an adult. It is a good time for reflection. I like being 19.

Don't call me "yo"

There is a certain brand of boy that irritate me above all others. They strut around with their pants to their knees, stupid shirts, music blasting their ears off through their headphones. They will most likely be wearing sunglasses (on the backs of their heads. who comes up with this stuff??), hoods up with a wide-brimmed hat on underneath. They may have some facial hair, but it is trimmed or if it's scruff it is carefully maintained and their hair may be in a faux-hawk. They have probably at some point worked as a salesman, and as such have an excess of confidence as well as an excess in cologne. They bathe in it. Twice daily.


You walk past a guy like this, innocently trying to get to class or the store, you may even be going somewhere with the kid you nanny for, who everyone thinks is your kid. Wherever you are going or whoever you are with, you will know that one such boy is around because at any moment you will hear this....

"Yo,"

Yo? Don't yo at me. My name is not "yo," and for that matter neither is "ayy" or "girrrll." You turn your head, because such is your natural impulse when you believe someone is talking to you. You immediately wish you hadn't, because you now have to deal with this toolbag. At this point they will probably nod and flash you a sleazy smile.

"What up girl?"

Congratulations for having successfully identified me as a female. What do you want- a round of applause? You roll your eyes and turn away, attempting to complete the task you set out to do.

"Dang. That was cold."

You are instantly reminded of a caveman. Girl. Rock. Meat. Me....their vocabulary is astounding. You'd be surprised at just how many guys can communicate with only one-syllable words. As you hurry off, you hear them call after you, and narrowly avoid introducing them to a particular finger. The little kid you nanny for should not grow up thinking that is okay.

I do not understand where these guys get their confidence from. Doesn't being shut down so many times by so many people wear on a guy's ego? Honestly sometimes I just get exasperated with this kind of boys, because they just seem so unintelligent. No, I did not accidentally look away from you or walk in the opposite direction. It was very much intentional. I am not interested. Is there anything about me that would indicate that I am interested? No? So whyyy are you talking to me?

It isn't even flattering. It's annoying, and actually kind of insulting that you think I have nothing better to do than talk to random creepers. Why don't you go do something good for society, instead of staring rudely at every passing thing that slightly resembles a female?


Buuuut unfortunately, some of these sleazebags never grow out of this. There are creepers everywhere, of every different shape, size, ethnicity, age, marital status....everywhere.

When I was out at school I missed MD, but I certainly did not miss being called, "yo."

An ode to Tressa

One of my favorite people in the whole entire world is this wonnnderful girl by the name of Tressa. I love her! She is now on a mission for our church- The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and while I miss her terribly I have no doubts that she is where she is supposed to be.

You mayyy be surprised to know that my glowing compliments are derived from a mere two weeks of knowing her. Thatttt is how fabulous this girl is. She is awesome. I want to beee Tressa a lot of the time, actually. But, as I cannot possibly do that, the least I cann do is share my favorite post from her blog (I invite you all to enjoy this fantastic webpage) with you all. Also, here is another one I enjoy :) Ehmm....

Warning: May Cause Side Effects!

This semester, my wonderful sister has been trying to teach me the art of flirting. It hasn't been going well.

So far I have read Flirtspeak and Surrendered Single with particular emphasis on the flirting chapters. Deborah has also given me numerous proven tips and secrets to flirting. I usually remember these tips after I say goodbye to the boy. 

Despite my difficulty I have found this process very educational, and I am amazed at Deborah's skill. There is one tip that I absolutely love, and use daily.

Tell yourself, you're hot!

Deborah said, "If you think you're hot, then you'll walk differently, and pretty soon boys will think you are too. Just walk down the hall telling yourself, 'I'm so hot."' So I have. I really have.

I walk down the hall and think to myself, "Wow. I'm hot. I am so hot. I'm beautiful and gorgeous!! Cover Girl's got nothing on me! I am so good looking. It's almost illegal how hot I am! I'm burning up I'm SO HOT!" Pretty soon, I'm almost giggling because I'm so excited at my new found hotness. It's awesome.

However, I have been experiencing some side effects. No, it's not excess boys hanging around me. It's dancing.

This week I've been blasting my roommates "Booty Shakin' Playlist" (That's really what it's called dad.) and shakin' my umm... refer back to the playlist title.

Anyway, the point is, all of a sudden, I've started dancing around the apartment, not worrying who is looking. This is very weird. Usually I have to be in a very good mood to dance the way I've been dancing. I'm jumping and grooving, and shaking my... hair around. 

My roommates have expressed some concern, but really I can't be that bad because I am just so hot. 

Wow, I love being HOT.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

"Our tolerance and respect for others and their beliefs does not cause us to abandon our commitment to the truths we understand and the covenants we have made."

- Dallin H. Oaks

"Things turn out best for people who make the best out of the way things turn out."


-John Wooden