This time last year I had just gotten home from school. It had been literally the worst four months of my life. I was the most miserable person. I was at my lowest in every single aspect of my life. I was so happy to be home, and now that I was here I kind-of just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. Sad, huh?
But then something happened that changed my life. I was offered a nanny position in DC.
At first I didn't even want to take the job. I had applied not really thinking of anything but making my father happy that I was being kind-of productive. So when I aced the interviews and M asked if I would take the job, I was honestly quite shocked. I heard myself saying, "of course! I would love to! Thank you so much!"
I felt my heart squeeze and my stomach drop as I hung up the phone. I guess I had a job? And I guess I wouldn't be living with my family anymore during the week? And I guess I suddenly loved kids? And I guess I would have to finally learn the metro system?
I panicked a little. What in the world had I just done?! I didn't want this! I wanted to be home! That was all that I wanted- to live at home and have a home-cooked meal every night and hang out with Julie and Gina and my family all the time and drive around in my car. And I had literally just taken that away from myself in the course of three interviews and a few email exchanges. What was WRONG with me?!
I seriously considered calling M back and being like, "nevermind jk I don't want it thanks though bye!" but I didn't, because I really needed the money, because I was in the negatives in my bank account.
Yeah.
You can read all about how much I loved my job and how the lil guy became my best friend and how well I adjusted to city life and how now all I want to do is live in DC and blahblah (they actually are pretty good posts, so go on! read up, buttercup!). Continuing on....
I made a goal at the beginning of my off-track last year. It was that I would "get a good job that I enjoy and will make me a better person." That job more than fulfilled those requirements. Those were literally the happiest four months of my life. That job was, in every way, ex-actly what I needed. And I think that's the point.
I was talking to Heather the other day and she said that in life, we don't always get what we want, we get what we need.
She is so smart! Last year, I wasn't getting anything that I wanted it seemed. I came home and my room was taken over by my little sister, my car wouldn't work, I wasn't going to be living at home the majority of the time, I was taking up a childcare position in a city that I was scared of, and basically it was all just a big mess in my head.
But for some reason (God being really nice to me), that odd series of what seemed like very unfortunate events combined together and spat out the perfect storm. I didn't even remotely want any of those things, but they turned out to be exactly what I needed.
Girls are always making lists. Like, "My husband will always open the door for me, kiss me goodnight, tell me I'm pretty at least 18 times a day, and bring me flowers spontaneously 13 times a month. Oh. And on Wednesdays we wear pink."
She is a high maintenance girl.
I kind-of don't think about my list for my honey-smoochie-pie that often, mostly because I don't need to. I'm not getting married for like, 6 years, so it's not something I need to worry about now. However, I actually thought about this today for a second, and I would like to record some of the things that are important to me that my husband will know/do/say/whatever. Ehm....
....So I just wrote them down and it's a long list and that's kinda not the point of this blog post. The point is that there is one thing that is above all on the importance scale to me. And that is that....
My husband needs to go with me to Africa.
But wait, there's more.
Africa is a big commitment. My husband needs to want to go to Africa. I would so love it if he wanted to go even before I told him that I did, if it was something he'd dreamed of even before he met me.
It kinda isn't enough for me if he just wants to go because I do and he wants to be with me. I know that sounds bratty but it's actually not. Listen. I don't want someone to make that huge decision and then regret it. And want to go home. And resent me for dragging him off to Africa. That is the opposite of what I want.
At the same time, if a boy I'm dating doesn't want to go to Africa. even won't go to Africa, there's no way that that relationship will get very far.
Africa is what I want. If that's not what you want then you are not what I want, and I am not what you want.
My future husband needs to fulfill these requirements. And this is not numbered bc it's not by importance. They are all equally important.
Not really.
Know when an avocado is ripe and act accordingly.
Not make me feel bad about my paleness
Say funny things
Think I'm funny
Want to talk about current events with me and get as excited about them as I do
Not be sensitive about dumb things
Not argumentative. He needs to be really chill
Let me drive when we're going somewhere together. Not every time, but sometimes you know?
Be really happy that we're married and tolerate with sweetness how many times I will inevitably bring it up
Want to adopt kids
Love Star Wars and watch the old ones with me whenever I so wish
Love Arthur
Love my friends especially Gina
Love my family
Love me
Love the USA
Be a US citizen
Be okay with how much I watch The Office
And Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses
And the Dark Knight
And Taken
Ehm.
Appreciate nature
Love hanging out with me!
Travel with me and enjoy it!
Be smart
Love to learn
Depending on how I/he is when we meet, he will either be getting his bachelor's or his master's. I would not mind him getting a Ph.D. if his heart so desires, but an education is important
Be protective of the things that I love
Be protective of me
Be good at picking up what I'm putting down
Understand most if not all of my movie and song references
Appreciate natural light
Have a happy disposition
Love to work
This one sounds weird I know, but I love to work and I think a good work ethic is really important in a husband, because I don't want to be the sole provider for our family. Sorry, feminists.
Read The Economist and al Jazeera with me
Love hiking but only the right kind of hiking. As in it must be on a dirt path under the cover of many trees on a mountain. None of that R Mountain crap. Get a life.
Love dogs
Like kipper snacks, or at least not tell me how ugly I am if I eat them.
Love Oreo McFlurries
Have a nice, genuine smile
Be a kind, caring, giving person
Love paying tithing
I'd prefer if he doesn't have blue or green eyes. I really like brown eyes. I wish I had brown eyes.
Love Orville
Be good with money
Surprise me cutely sometimes :)
Understand how important sleep is and how much I love it
Like to listen to me play flute
Love Christmas as much as I do
And the 4th of July
And Thanksgiving
BE NICE TO WAITERS/WAITRESSES
Tip well
Always say please and thank you and smile at them
Alright. This turned out to be so much longer than I thought it would be, and actually I'm sure it could be much longer, but that's it for now. Happy searching for me!
Actually I guess that's not true. I have liked President George W. Bush since I was in 4th grade. I was in 4th grade when 9/11 happened. As a simple 9 year-old I saw something bad happen and then I saw an incredible amount of pride in our country sweep the nation. I saw our President acting strongly and speaking resolutely. I liked what he had to say. I liked that he wasn't going to let those people who had hurt my countrymen and women get away with it. I liked him and I have liked him ever since.
This is one of my favorite pictures :)
Now, this is not to say that I agree with everything he's ever done ever in his life. I like him the same way that I like President Obama. Yeah that's right guys, I like President Obama.
Again though, I am not saying I agree with any/all/some of his policies. The truth is there are things I disagree with for both of them. But here's why I like them....
I like them bc I don't think either of them meant/means to harm America. I believe that both of them LOVE America! This makes me happy.
Now, just because I like somebody doesn't mean it stops there. I do wish that certain things weren't happening in America right now. The same goes for when the Bush Administration was around. You can like someone and not agree with everything they do. It's allowed, guys.
I think it's okay to disagree with someone's policies, but that doesn't make them the anti-Christ. It doesn't mean they are horrible people. It just means that they think and act differently than you, and I personally like that we have the freedom to do that.
The other day I saw this thing. I think it was on facebook. It was this picture
And the caption was something like, "President Obama caught reading a book by fellow Muslim Fareed Zakaria. It is called The Post-American World. Have any doubts about where his policy choices are leading now??"
I was so pissed off by this. Here's the dealio, guys. I read Fareed Zakaria. Paige and I lovee reading Fareed Zakaria. Any PoliSci student has read/will read/is reading right now Fareed Zakaria. He is a noted Political Scientist who is a naturalized US citizen. In one of his lectures he said, "I voted with my feet. I wanted to be part of America."
No, I am not saying that I agree with everything Fareed Zakaria says. I don't. However, I do very much love hearing him talk. He is an excellent speaker and I enjoy the perspectives he gives. He is a pretty smart guy.
I think it is really bad politics to try to take something about someone like religion and have that be the say-all, end-all of that person. Just because someone is Mormon, or Catholic, or Muslim, or Protestant, does not mean that they are the worst human being imaginable and not fit to run the country. It just means that they are someone who has a different religion than you.
"I find it preposterous that in 2011 we’re debating whether or not a man is qualified or worthy of your vote based on whether or not his religion ... is a disqualifying provision."
-Vice President Joe Biden on Romney's Mormonism
I seriously love that quote.
Now, this isn't to say that everyone is on equal grounds here. If the president of a crazy cult was running for office, it would be a different story. If someone publishes a book, say it is called....Mein Kauf and in it he details his plans for the destruction of entire peoples, you should judge him based off that absolutely.
But bringing religion, race, etc., into things is such a desperately low blow. It's bringing politics away from politics. Those things shouldn't matter to you.
What should matter are the policies of those running. Do you know them? You should. Blindly going along with someone bc of anything else is not the way it should be done. Holding grudges because of one policy that you don't like is another wrong way to go about politics.
It is important to remember that, like him/her or not, we are stuck with our president for at least four years andd it could even be eight. So, you can sit around griping about it all you want, those four years are still gonna happen. It would be very beneficial, however, if you stopped saying everything that was going wrong and started coming up with solutions and sharing them with others in a constructive manner. We don't always need to be at each other's throats. It is quite unproductive.
America is the leader of the free world, and its citizens should consider that responsibility, whether they want us to have it or not, very carefully. Our decisions of those we vote into office will absolutely affect the entire world. We should take it seriously and look at what matters.
You can be very naive. And think that "getting a fake" is getting a fake tan, or that a hanger party is a party wherein girls walk around with hangers and wait for boys to come tie a ribbon or something around their hanger. And then they dance all old-fashioned-like! And no one ever gets hurt by the hangers.
Sometimes your Understanding DNA teacher is absent. Right before a test. That he only told you about last Friday and it's Monday. And you had a test last Wednesday for that class. And he didn't even teach you half of what is supposed to be on the test. And you just know that in his head that is okay, and he's like "good luck, suckers! No one will ever pass my class, ever! Bwahahaaaa!"
Sometimes things like that make you upset bc you really care about and love this class, and your fuh-reaken hours of studying should be rewarded somehow.
Sometimes you never ever sleep at your house on Friday nights, and you can't even remember the last time you did so. And it's not even a big deal, even though you sometimes don't see any of your roommates for two days straight.
Sometimes, you see dysfunctional relationships and you honestly have no idea what to do except talk about it. Because even though you're not a gossipy B, you just don't know how to handle it and you need advices.
Sometimes, it's none of your business, and you need to accept that and let people make their own mistakes.
But sometimes that is really hard to do.
Sometimes, your roommate gets a boyfriend and you don't even know quite how you manage it but sommeeehow there is never a normal moment when you are around the two of them. In fact, by now you most definitely know much more about him and how his brain works and his life and knowledge of all things sexual and you honestly have no idea how it came to all of this.
And sometimes he's like, "don't be gross! I didn't mean that." And then does into a very detailed description of what that is, and you're like, "oh my gosh be QUIET. I have noo desire to speak of this with you I just wanted my water bottle!" But he just keeps going and it becomes very apparent to you that not everyone is good at picking up what you are, so extraordinarily clearly, putting down.
Sometimes, a convict escapes from work detail in St Anthony and everybody freaks out, except your roommate who says he will never come here.
Sometimes you discuss with your other roommate and you both agree that he would indeed come here, bc that is what Tweener did in Prison Break.
Sometimes no one else watches Prison Break so they don't believe you and try to tell you its unrealistic.
Sometimes, you are going home in a little over two weeks and you just don't believe it, but you start packing anyway.
Sometimes the girls in your complex and the complex next to yours go to bed super-early and it's weird and you feel afeared when you're the only one up at 1 in the morning.
Sometimes, your best friend is in Africa, and you're so happy for her but you miss her so much.
Because sometimes, even when you are separated by two thousand miles, it doesn't seem like it is that far bc you still talk sometimes. But now that she is much farther away, and you never talk, sometimes you really feel that distance. And sometimes that makes you realize how much you relied on and needed her.
And sometimes that realization makes you a very sad girl, and you hate all these sad understandings you've been getting lately.
Sometimes, you actually go to your own ward for once and you quickly figure out exactly how toolish your FHE sons are, and it is disappointing as well as annoying as shiiii bc they think they are sooo cool and they are just not. Not at all.
And sometimes, it makes you never want to go to FHE. And you don't want to fix it with them bc what's the point? Tools gonna tool- and not just sometimes. They don't think they're doing anything wrong, and you don't have the time and you certainly don't have the patience to explain to them the multitude of things they've got backwards.
And sometimes you aren't even interested in seeing them ever again, because sometimes they disgust you that much.
Sometimes you think about how ironic it is that the most toolish boys you know are LDS, and some of the nicest are the ones your dad would be most upset to see you bring home.
Sometimes, you haven't written your missionaries in awhile, and you feel horrible, and you miss them a lot more than you ever thought you would. And sometimes that makes you sad.
And sometimes, all of this happens at once, and you just get so sick of it and want more than anything to go home.
Once upon a time last week I was having the worst day. I had pulled an all-nighter the night before and I was just plain desausted. My hairs looked 'orrible as did my face, and I found myself nodding off in Lamoreaux's class many times.
And yes, he did notice. What is: the opposite of brownie points? (Jeopardy moment. Just go with it.) This is what I saw in my brief moments of consciousness....
I am ashamed. Anyway.
All that I wanted was to be able to take an hourish-long nap after Foreign Gov't and before my Understanding DNA presentation, and as soon as class was over I marched with this purpose toward the Taylor.
The Hinckley chapel, I had discovered earlier, was occupied by some presentation. Normally I would be quite disheartened by this information, but I was too tired to focus on the injustice of it all and instead, shook it off and continued on my quest for a nice, quiet, secluded pew.
I smiled in sleepy anticipation as I approached the Taylor building. The Taylor chapel had always been a very nice sanctuary for me. I would go there at least three times a week during the Winter semester and just nap to my heart's content. I was very much looking forward to its peace and quiet. I reached the door and opened it with gusto. I was seconds away from sleep! I turned to walk into the chapel....
....and then turned right back around. Because guess the freak what guys? There, on the very pew where I was to lay my tired head, was the butt of some business student.
Oh and over there too.
And there.
And there.
And in that corner as well.
Just like that.
As I turned to go I bumped into several business students. They looked at me, trying to figure out why I was going against the grain. They took in my cute but hastily put-together outfit that, okay, didn't quite match. They saw my tired, forlorn expression as I plodded sadly away and realized that my purpose for going there had been disappointed. They gave me a look of superior pity. Much like this....
And I was like, BITE ME.
Tears blurred my vision as I hopelessly stumbled out into the intense heat of the day. All around me were business students. Some of them smiled at me, all too cheerful to be stomping, quite literally, all over my dreams. I saw right through their whitened smiles and bright, friendly eyes. They knew ex-actly what they were doing. They walked into my chapel, sat down on my pew, ruined the sanctity of MY NAP PLACE.
I hurried away from the horrible scene as fast as my half-conscious legs could carry me. I had been texting Chelsea at the time (she had just seen the ginger Rexburg Rapper. It was a great moment for all), so I accordingly sent her a very distressed message about my pitiful situation. She texted back that I should go and sleep at the Crossroads, but I was already on my way because I stalk Chelsea on a regular basis and knew she was most likely to be there.
I found her and flung myself down on the couch next to her. "He-ey," Chelsea said gently, giving me a look of utmost sympathy.
"Oh! My liiife," I moaned in the most dramatic fashion. Chelsea listened as I ranted about all the dumb people who were taking over my bed(s). She patted my arm and nodded her head many times and said things like, "yeah what the french toast hockey sticks?!"
and "why the why couldn't they have had the meeting somewhere else?"
and "you are much more important than them!"
As I threw my head down and said things like, "all that I have ever wanted....all that I have ever even wanted at all in this life is to take a nap in the Taylor chapel!"
and "I feel personally attacked by this. I just knoww they planned it to ruin my life in such a fashion!"
and "How DARE they do this to me! Oh-hh!"
....I will take this moment to say that I honestly have no idea if she or I actually said those things because I was prettymuch braindead anddd I just don't bemember. Also, I am aware how dramatic this is. Whatever.
Anyway.
So then she was like, "Well, why don't you just take a nappy-poo here?" She patted the couch excitedly. "Yeah! Take a nappy-poo here!" I smiled broadly at her creativity and obediently thunked my head down on the table. I frowned. This was soo not comfortable. I shifted. And twisted. And did a couple cartwheels and backflips but nothing ever worked and I was just uncomfortable and put-out. This is what I looked like....
Or like this....
Seeing my sad state, Chelsea asked kindly, "would you like me to sing you some lullabies?" Of course that is precisely my heart's truest desire! Chelsea has the most best singing voice to me, and I just love hearing her sing. This is actually quite monumental, if you must know. I usually hate when people around me sing. I actually texted Chelsea about this very thing today! This so-annoying girl was sitting next to me in the crossroads and she kept humming in that obnoxious way that you're like, okay what the crap there is a bee in my ear. 'Scuse you stop it now or have your vocal cords removed.
Anyway.
So then Chelsea sang me the most lovely lullaby that she sings to her nephew! I happily snuggled into the couch and drifted off into dreamworld.... ....for all of six seconds. I was in that weird place between consciousness and sleep that you only ever become aware of if you are suddenly jerked from it. Which I was. I heard sniffling and sat up in a slightly grumpy, very confused daze. You'd best believe I looked like this....
I looked over and saw one of my friends sitting on the other side of Chelsea, who had abandoned her singing for soothing words and consoling pats. This friend was crying because something bad had happened to her. Chelsea fixed her right up, saying all the right things and listening in the best way. Sad friend was beginning to calm down when Kaylie (who looks like this all the time....
)
approached the table. "Chelsea," she said urgently. "I don't know what's due for Understanding DNA!" Sad friend scooched down the bench and sat next to me, where we both pitied ourselves and tried to help the other, all the while waiting for Chelsea to come and fix our pathetic selves again.
Chelsea helped Kaylie figure out what was due and then sent her on down the bench to get to work because by this time, you guessed it- ahNUTHER (I know how to spell "another" correctly. Please calm down.) girl came up, begging assistance from the only person in the universe who could make anything okay on that fateful Friday- our dear Chelsea-poo. I think this girl needed help with anatomy. By this time Kaylie, Sad friend, and I were spread out quite nicely on the couch bench, so Chelsea and the other girl moved to a table behind us to get to work. Sad friend and I began to work on a math project that I had while we waited for our motherChelsea to return. We separated M+Ms by color and counted them. I don't even want to talk about it.
Oh except for that I shared with this group of random strangers later that day and then accidentally left all my M+Ms. Even the peanut ones. And I was sore depressed.
Anyway.
This menial task improved our moods significantly, and we even had a photoshoot with Kaylie, bc what else were we supposed to do? And I would like to say that now Kaylie's prof pic is one of her and I from that photoshoot and I am pleased as punch about this because I truly and really love Kaylie. She is one of my very favorites!
This is the one! Hiiiiiii Kaylie :) But anyway.
All this work and photography took up the remainder of the space, and by the time Chelsea came back to deal with her own problems (homework), her textbooks and pens and things had been shoved to the very farthest corner. She gazed upon the spot she had picked out with a sad resignation and I put myself in her (very fashionable and cute) shoes.
I imagined her a mere hour earlier arriving at the Crossroads, bright, happy, and chipper. She had a lot to get done, and she wanted to be comfortable. She had spotted a relatively uncrowded area and settled into the soft, cushy bench. She had made sure there was lots of table space for her textbooks and flashcards and taplop. She began to quietly pound anatomy terms into her head, stopping every once in awhile to gaze with pride at her carefully organized space.
Perfect.
She was being very productive, occasionally texting her friend Nicole, who was in her Foreign Gov't class and tired as crap. When Nicole had showed up, she expected the girl to just fall asleep, no biggie. But the situation had quickly spiraled out of control. Suddenly she was quite busy, burping (patting soothingly) and feeding (building up the self-esteem of) and potty-training (dealing with the leaky faucets of) 20-year-old girl quintuplets that she hadn't even known she'd had.
In the course of ten minutes her peaceful study time had turned into a marathon therapy session. And now her beautiful spot was ruined, filled with children all in need of her assistance and pity. The poor things simply could not get along without her, that much was clear. They needed their mothers, and Chelsea, with her fabulously chosen outfit, was the closest thing.
I looked sadly upon her, realizing I could relate. My spot had been rudely yanked out of my hands just that morning. I opened my mouth to say that we would all scooch down, but Chelsea just sighed and said, "I am every single person here's mother." We, her children, looked up and down the row at the lot of us and nodded solemnly.
"I helped all of you," The nodding became more intense except for mine. All that jostling around was giving me a headache. Chelsea handed me some ibuprofen. No she didn't.
"And now," She continued. "Nowww there is no room on the soft seats, so I am going to sit on one of the hard seats." We all opened our mouths to protest but Chelsea held up her hand and said above the cries of her quintuplets, "Because that, thattt is what you do when you are the mother." And then she grabbed her notebook and pen and plopped down on the other side of the table, on the cold, hard chair.
whatasaint.
And that is why Chelsea is the youngest person I know to have quintuplets, because even though there was only four of us that I counted, I am very positive that we are not the only pitiful human beings she mothered that day. Chelsea is just the best, and I love her so. And if you had such a friend, wouldn't you blog about it too?
Mother!
Oh wait. Actually....
But umm really.
Oh. Anddd I would like to make a disclaimer right now:: This may or may not be an accurate portrayal of all that went down that lovely day. You figure it out.
