Two Weeks Notice

So a lot has changed since last I blogged. Mostly, my life has just changed. Like, I got a full-time job and met a neat guy and found a new place to live. I also made my part-time employee livid, was dealt the silent treatment by both said boss and fellow friend/co-worker, and have been sleeping anywhere but my nice comfy bed. It's been a leetle crazy. Things that I've learned about life: staying up until 3am is not the best idea as a rule, and if you know something is going to end, two weeks notice doesn't always help the situation...

Good things always come in threes, right? Numero uno of good life changing events: I got a new job. A good one. You know, like one with benefits, nice wages, power and domination. I'm the new manager for Hancock Fabrics. Ok, I know, who would be like "omg, I'm so excited to be manager of a fabric store for the rest of my life!" Well, maybe not for the rest of my life, but its not only an amazing step up from my current life in money, status and independence, but it could lead to other good things in the future. And I love fabric. I really do. Honestly, I didn't think that I was going to get the job. The sign for the position had been up for more than a month, so I just decided on a whim to take in an application on the off chance that they still hadn't found someone who was suitable for the job. After I got the interview I made the mistake of asking Heather if she had gotten an interview as well. She said she had and all of a sudden I realized my awkward mistake...

For those of you who don't know or who haven't cared, I had been living with Heather for the previous two months. Things were getting tense when we both decided to relieve the tension by me moving out. 'Twas fine, for I had found this cute little duplex to move into right after crazy convention week at Nuskin. Let's just say that I'm happy I found a place to live because if I thought things were awkward when I found out about the interviews, it was nothing compared to telling Heather that I got the job, having her tell my boss before I could, and not talking to me and ostracizing me from her family....well...it sucked.

Then I dated Nelson for two weeks. Then I learned some stuff. Then I worked.




"It's so cold in Norway, we have to work harder"
nuskin distributor from norway

Floor yanking.

Disconcerting....wait a minute, lemme look that up in a thesaurus and find a better term for my, um....er...disconcertment....Troubling? Disturbed? Yes, its these too, I just can't figure out the perfect word for this crease in my brow and muted countenance. I got a call this morning from a long time friend:

Z - "Hey."
B - "Hi, how are you?"
Z - "Good...so..."
B - "What's going on in your life?"
Z - "Hey, I think I need to take a break from our friendship for a little while..."
B - "....Oh. Well, ok, what's up?"
Z - "I just need to take a break."
B - "Are you ok?"
Z - "Yeah, I'm fine, just I've gotten a little out of control....and I just need some time..."
B - "Okay, well...okay."
Z - "Be safe and good."
B - "You too...see ya later."

Now I will write a draft of what was going through my head during this convo:

Z - "Hey."
B - "Hi, how are you?"

(Hm...he seems a little down...what time is it?...he never calls at this time of the morning. I guess we haven't talked in a little bit. Didn't he tell me that he was busy this week and would call me this weekend?)

Z - "Good...(is it? you don't sound like it is going very well) so...(hm...something's wrong, its been wrong for weeks now, but this is something different, I can feel it)"

B - "What's going on in your life?" (brace yourself?)

Z - "Hey, I think I need to take a break from our friendship for a little while."
(blank....huh?)

B - "....Oh. (that was unexpected) Well, ok, what's up?" (in other words, what the hell are you talking about?? Did you fall on your head in the last 24 hours or lost all your money in the stock market?...that would explain the weird, sad tone....)

Z - "I just need to take a break." (this is weird because when I wanted to "take a break" I just didn't answer the phone, I didn't make it a point to call him up and tell him...what the hell.)

B - "Are you ok?" (What does this have to do with? Are you in financial trouble? Did somebody die? Is there another gir--*gasp*.........I see.)

Z - "Yeah, I'm fine, just I've gotten a little out of control....and I just need some time..."
(*nods* hm. since when have you ever been not in control....what? Like drunken with power, cutting random people down (a la American Psycho) to satisfy your unquenchable thirst for world domination?)

B - "Okay, well...okay." (I'm pretty sure this is not ok...but I respect your decision because you respect mine...this sucks.)

Z - "Be safe and good." (I'll think about it....and this later....what the hell?)

B - "You too...see ya later." (what the.....)


Good thing I'm really cute when I'm disconcerted.

Junkies of Pain

I think that everyone has a finite amount of pain that they need to experience in this life that refines them enough to be perfect. Lest those of you scoff and point your fingers at those who cause unneeded suffering, is there such thing as unneeded suffering? Who's to say that one person's suffering isn't someone elses gain....er....I mean, like their experience can be a lesson to avoid such sorrow or a comfort to remind them that they are not alone. Perhaps all suffering is needed. The bitter with the sweet? Of course we all are able to make our own choices and I'm not saying that we are predestined to be miserable. But I think back on things that I've been through which others could consider unneccesary and I'm ok with it. Of course that may be because I have a gospel-like perspective (I don't claim to know anything concrete about the gospel...its a slippery little fellow) and I know that if I did something unknowing hurtful to someone and have a contrite heart and spirit, constantly repenting into a cooler awesomer being, I won't have to stand accountable for those mistakes.

but there must be a point when we finish suffering like we do as mortals and we become blinked in the eye...or changed in a blink. Blinkling of the eye? Changed in the twinkling of an eye, that's it!

Oui oui!

(That's pronounced wee wee to anyone who does not know French...) I am feeling very French today thanks to my fashion forward blunt banged bob and my linen pencil skirt I got from Italy last summer. I topped it off (literally) with a black silk blouse with a bow at the bosom and a cream silk/cotton cardigan with a scoop neck and mother of pearl buttons. Ok, so one of my favorite web bloopers of all times is this one found on a Janome sewing machine forum where a customer suggested a very interesting technique:

"I love to butthole appliqué on the 6600 . Try using #39 in mode 2."

I think about that sometimes when I sew and wish that my Brother sewing machine had a similar feature.


What is love? Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more. I miss Baby, Lois' little tyke. I think that I'm going to be a really good mom. Number 1, because I actually like and want kids, number 2, because I remember sometimes what its like to think like a little kid and thus can direct children to correct thinking through some of the same processes that I've found helpful in growing up, and number 3, 'cause I'm freakin' awesome. All I'm sayin' is that I will NOT marry somebody who doesn't share most or all of the same characteristics that I've just described.

I guess if I were a mom now I'd probably have lots to write about cute little things my kids do or the crazy whacked out crap that my teenagers would be up to, but I don't and you just can't make that stuff up. So what do I have to write about instead? Maybe I'll write about some of the things I know my mom encountered. Ha, I think Katie was the best worst child. Mummy used to do Mary Kay (I remember the big pink kit she used to have) and there was definitely an incriminating picture of little Tatty looking up with a nonchalant expression. Dark blue painted on eyebrows, bright red lips a la clown makeup, and various other shades and hues were spread across her 4-year-old little cheeks. I mostly remember the navy unibrow. Then of course there were other pictures of her wearing nothing but showing off a fabulous straw hat to the photographer. She was smart enough as a 5 year-old to cut up those pictures including the negatives.

I'm sure there's other things that I could pull up, although most of the others would be about my brothers which included much less girly stuff like clothes (or lack thereof) and makeup and much more blood. My brothers are so cute though, I've been so completely amazed to see them grow up. One of my favorite memories is was the like one time Richard threw a tantrum about a certain unmentionable. He must have been like 3 or 4 and have just gotten potty trained. I had received The Little Mermaid a year or two earlier and he and his younger brothers practically wore the thing out by watching it every second of the day. The tantrum in question was about the undies, he would refuse to wear any underwear unless they were Little Mermaid underwear. My mom was very clever, and because there was no such thing as little boy Little Mermaid underwear, for the first year of potty training little Woesherd, as we called him, wore girls panties. Because he would want to proudly show them off, unwilling to hide the miniature Ariels and Flounders under pants or jeans, when he needed some sturdy footwear he would pull on his black cowboy boots. Tromping around in that get up always made him happy. And now I am passing on the memory to all of our progeny.

There was that time when Boefer (Danny) was so little and Mom and Dad went to a football game in like Yakima or something. I honestly don't remember what I was doing, but at one point during the evening on of boys came in with a towel with blood on it saying that something was wrong with Danny. I walk into the laundry room and there he is sitting on the floor looking up at me with huge surprised/frightened eyes, sharp cat food lid in one hand, blood all over his little foot. I was freaked. After calling my Mia Maids teacher and getting to the ER (first time in my memory of doing so), the little baby had to get a bunch of stitches and we called his little tootsies "franken-toes" for the rest of his little baby life. Oh, I miss baby brothers, they're all taller than me now. But they still wouldn't dare to piss me off....:)

Two Good Songs in a Row

At work You Are So Beautiful to Me and What a Wonderful World played one after the other. Even though the latter was sung by Rod Steward (known as "Rod" by me and my boss Kerri) and not Mr. Armstrong, I was still soothed and happified. I wanted to talk a little about how everything is going to be okay. It seemed interesting that that one phrase, "everything is going to be okay" can always pacify me. I was talking to my friend Matt Christensen last night about everything under the sun, more specifically our present stated of religious discord, I realize that I depend on that feeling from Heavenly Father with my life. Mom helped with that too, and pointed out that during a particular despairing episode including weeping late one night, that the thought to drink a big class of water and a Tylenol PM and go to sleep was definitely a result of my mother's continuing presence in my life. I'm starting to think that maybe she does have more time to help her children with their eternal salvation on this earth rather than teaching others in the next...

Ha, I'm thinking evil thoughts...like since my boss isn't here today, putting Saturday's Warrior soundtrack in the cd player for the store instead of listening to the satellite radio station for 3 more hours. I won't, but it was a thought. SO. I realized something last night that I think I need to record (since my written journal is so much less accessible than this, I'll save my usual boy rantings and ravings for that...for now).

Talking with Matt, I realized that growing up in the church we are so very naive. Well, let me rephrase that; we have a naivety about ourselves. I remember very specifically learning what the Holy Ghost should feel like and how "wonderful" I would feel when I read the scriptures or said my prayers. There's nothing wrong with this, but I got to thinking that I and probably most other people have had a "Fall" of their own, a time when they are personally cut off from the Lord's presence. A lot of people would say something more like "you have to find your own testimony" implying that most have literally been relying on the testimonies of others their entire lives. But I don't know if that's necessarily true. I think we do have testimonies when we are younger, most would agree that children are way more susceptible to the spirit than adults.

Implying that we have a personal "Fall" means that we go from a state of being very susceptible to the spirit and communicating more closely to Heavenly Father to a state where we aren't as close and are only able to communicate comparatively poorly, relying on few spiritual experiences granted us to assure us that we're doin' stuff right. Ha, its no wonder that we're banished at some point in our lives for what we do, for heaven sakes, Adam got booted just for eating an apple! By actually implementing the Fall as a parable in our lives, we can see more clearly how to walk(or stumble) along our paths to reconnect face to face with God. Adam and Eve seemed to do it and I don't remember the Genesis biography as being a particularly ease-filled epic.

What I've found is that one of our biggest obstacles we face in this life is becoming comfortable with the communication system with Heavenly Father. Let's face it, its unpredictable (to us), illogical (to us) and needs a lot of servicing in order to function properly. Used one way once doesn't necessarily mean that a repeat of that experience is a given. But we have to figure out how to use it by ourselves or we are cut off. Looping back up to the paragraph previous, that's where Adam and Eve and all those other scripture heroes come in handy. It shows us that we are not alone, we are not the only ones going through this. That's one of the wisest things I've learned from Louise; just knowing that you're not the only one going through something makes it bearable.

My friends and I always joke about lowered expectations (usually when referring to relationships and ECs), but maybe our whole Mormon Culture Mentality needs a revamping in order to have lower expectations for what our Mormon lives should be. A song that has been stuck in my head for the past two days goes a somethin' a like a this:

When I grow up, I want to be a mother and have a family,
One little, two little, three little babies of my own.

So. After realizing that this initial brainwashing in my formative years, might have contributed a teensy eensy bit to my current unhappy baby-less situation, I was calmed to realize that I did really want these things, but still miffed that I was grown up and I did not have one little, two little, three little babies of my own. The song defaulted on its promise. Lesson that needs to be stamped back into our heads: we do not deserve anything, therefore we should expect nothing. That way we will be pleasantly surprised when we do get our babies. In regards to our "Falls"and our communications with the big guy, expect life to be hard, then when its easy we will be pleasantly surprised. None of this is gospel, if fact it might be good ole false doctrine, but it gives me that little peace which feels a lot like maybe I'm getting a little closer to my state before the Fall.

Why some girls are prettier and get married faster.

As I was shoving a chocolate frosted peanut butter bar from Hickory Kist into my face and I saw this pretty girl walk by and kind of glare at me. I could not help but notice the conspicuously placed bling on her left hand and once again reminded that I was not married. I've been thinking about this for a couple of weeks now and once upon a time I concluded that some people are meant to be baby-makers and some are not. That sounds mean, but its the only thing that helps me cope with not being able to keep up with the Jones and have a family like everyone else in the community. I'm pretty sure that mortals can't comprehend how they are special to God...just like everyone else so we have to place ourselves. Let's face it, its just really really hard to be undefined. Our point on this earth is to experience definition. Our mortal bodies are literally a defined version of our incomprehensible intelligentical beings. Satan hates hell because he doesn't get to be defined in a mortal body. So the whole point of our mortal existence is to define ourselves only to strive to embrace our undefinabilty once again and to use our bodies for good and to procreate.

*gasp*

And that's all I thought on that day.

My sister doth not love me...

Well does it really matter? I only think of her every time I lay me down onto my queen sized bed to slumber. We used to share a queen when we chucked the bunkbed on our way to Missouri. Long story short, the second half of my Senior year was spent kicking Katie of my side of the bed and plugging her nose so she wouldn't snore. Those damn adnoids....

Another sister is my faithful blog reader, Loise. Pronounced Loyz. It was very unfair to leave her hanging with my declaration that I'd be moving to LA. You'd better not tell you-know-who that I even have a blog because then I'd have to destroy the evidence and this is not a blog about HIM! I don't think I can do it. Every time I think about going through with it I just feel...blah. Like, I just have no desire to do it whatsoever to go anywhere near Cali. I don't really want to stay here, but when I think about going to Montana, there's a warmth in my innards that makes me feel good. I just don't know what I should do...

My good old friend at the PPC who's sister I knew my freshman year and who's sister new my brother in law school said this about marriage when i asked if I could indeed marry for money and a well-dressed man, "Marriage shouldn't be about love; it should be about commitment and building something." We were talking about all the well-dressed Japanese men who had infiltrated the store which reminded me of the 3-piece suit that Jerkface (blogged about 'im and now I've given him a name for all ya'lls) wore the last time we saw each other. It was a nice suit even though I practically begged him not to wear one...too official for the occasion, boo. Anyways, very soon afterwards I had an ROR (raugh out Roud) moment. A very well dressed and pretty Japanese woman asked me where the 'lestloom' was...

And then walked in a beautiful Venezuelan boy.

Okay, he had an entourage of his entire extended family, I guess that's how they do things in Venezuela. What am I talking about? He was the entourage to his bedangled gold-ring-plus-bracelet-wearing father, mother and grandparents. He had a little brother too. And maybe a great aunt. Not only is the father a person you might see depicted on some kind of mafia-type series set in Latin America, but he also has a lisp which makes this 240 pound man a leedle effeminate. It was cool and for helping them before John stepped in, daddy Venezuelan promised that the next time he came here into the store he would bring me back something from Venezuela. He had a kind smile so I accepted his offer.

Reconnecting continued.

I realized that I should have just posted that last one and then go on. Anyways I didn't finish. I needed to explain about the big reconnect. Wait, maybe it's not so big a deal, but it was unexpected. I got a call at 1:38 am from a person that I have preciously blogged about whom I had many feelings about. Ha! You know when there's just this reoccurring person that somehow manages to influence your life with this invisible hand and no matter how many phone calls you ignore and no matter how many times you tell yourself you're not the way you are because that's the way he says you are....this is getting complicated. He called, caught me off guard, a.k.a. called when I was full on asleep picking up only out of some weird reflex. He laughed that he had duped me into picking up. It's true I had been ignoring his calls, but I don't know why!!!

Honestly now I don't know what we talked about for two hours in the middle of the morning, but damn him! For the rest of the week I was on again about the idea of marrying him. The drama with mine and his relationship is more than every other drama with a guy combined! I fully attribute this complications to my nature, he seems very content with the constant state of limbo that we are in. Either that or he's not letting on that he thinks about us. The thing that really bothers me is that he says things like, "I miss you" and when I tell him that he's too tired to talk and that he should go to bed he whines "oh." in a pathetic, no-don't-leave-me kind of way. So manipulative. There's got to be a definition for something in between platonic and romantic. That's the limbo that I'm talking about.

Anyways, fast forward to last night when we talked about the things I've been thinking over the last week when everytime one of us called the other was too busy or to tired to do anything but touch bases. He sounded tired again (doesn't get cranky, just mostly slow and disjointed in speech which is frustrated when asking questions that matter to me) but resisted getting off the phone saying that he was just fine. So I tested him by pulling out the big guns and asking what the hell we were all about and delving into the whole relationship limbo thing (I guess there are just some concepts that are too abstract for me to grasp, I'm just so human....)It resulted in a very interesting conversation about dating; apparently he was dating 3 people at the same time, but only platonically which I think discounts the whole purpose of dating. He used the term "to go steady" when referring to the state of dating romantically before the stage of intent to marry dating. If was pretty ridiculous, but it did define lines which shed light on his twisted mind when it came to committing to an EC. Anyways, I agreed to move to LA pending securing a job there.

Reconnecting and Refinancing

Finally got paid today after a two week suspension of the use of my debit card. Don't think that stopped me from utilizing my newly acquired GAP card though...I'm taking some stuff back, good-bye red converse. Things that I paid for that were weighing on my mind: car insurance, bed-guy, closing the loan for my car (only three more years to pay off my grandparents!!), my gym pass (a steal at $19 bucks a month @ 24-hour fitness) and my cell phone bill. I also hit up the employee store at Nuskin to spend my 250 pts on product. I got some cool pale pink lipstick a la 1960s and some AC shakes and some lifepak nano since it was buy one get one free. I feel a paragraph dedicated to fish burps coming on...

So, I feel sad that Nano comes with Marine Omega, the fish oil gel capsule. It's the most disgusting thing in the world, unless of course you eat Long John Silver's that day. All day Wednesday I was burping a icky shrimpy taste. The occurence led me to wonder if I really burped that much everyday or if it was the fish gels that unleashed their hideous wonder on my gastric system. Gross. It did taste though as if I had had a substantial meal that day other than cereal. I wonder if Willy Wonka knows that Nuskin has modified his gum-meal gum into gel-meal gel. Maybe I should slip my uneaten fish pills onto his desk and I'll win the whole factory....what do you think nuskin would have instead of a chocolate fountain/river?

I thought I was done with the fish pill topic, but I had to share the story about how Heather's mother inadvertently smeared a marine omega all over her face and clothing after choking on the thing, biting into it and thinking that she had swallowed the treacherous med. Apparently she walked around with an orange-y substance on her person until her husband pointed it out. I have a feeling she looked like some kind of crazy lady with orange oil dripping haphazardly from her lips, her little pointed teeth gleaming with pleasure from her last kill....I almost wet my pants when she told me the story.

I am willing to donate all my fish oils to anyone who wants them.

So i think i covered the refinancing part of this blog and now I'm going to talk about reconnecting. I'll start from today and move backwards. I called my grandma and talked to her. She is one of the most generous women I've ever known. I know that part of that is from a stand-point of being her grandchild, but really she is just really really giving. She has certain expectations for her generosity, but in the best way possible so as to not let people take advantage of her. It's a good balance and one I admired in my mother before her passing. I think I want to be like that.

Angel Friends

So insomnia has struck again. Perhaps its the fact that I took a 3 hour Sunday afternoon nap. It might have something to do with the fact that I can tell the people above me are taking showers at 6am. But I've only had 3 hours of sleep so I know that its not because I don't need it. I miss my mom the most during these hours...

I think I've started to get used to the idea of living without her. The other day I was thinking to myself that I will live more years without her than with and it made me wonder what that was all about. Like, will she be replaced slowly but surely by other things? I won't deny that I used her as kind of a crutch through some of my most difficult years. And even now almost 3 years after she's gone I still feel this yearning to talk to her and tell her all my troubles in these early sleepless hours. Mom would laugh that a couple of days ago I had an entire dream-fest about Michael Phelps (totally appropriate, I assure you!) and that I always have dreams about the PPC where I work Friday night before I go in for a Saturday morning shift. She knew me from the very start and loved me enough to let me fight her through half of my adolescence and teenage years without giving up on me in the sense that she thought that maybe someday I could become a civilized person. A person who is able to take all her passion and sensitivity (that usually got misdirected as bursts of fits on poor little siblings) learn to control them and become not only a decent human being, but a pretty amazing person.

Could she have ever imagined that I'd finally start to make amends with her father, a feat even her daughter thought impossible through years of instability and even more suffering on both parts after she died? Could she see how her children would come to realize that we actually were better friends to each other than anybody else we'd known in our lives? I graduated. Barely. Not everyone does that and I don't think I would have given it as much effort had I not known that she thought that was best for me. Well, the experience has broken me down, but then built me up as this brilliant, beautiful woman who wants to follow in her mother's footsteps, patience in the Lord's time her only hangup.

I do feel like I'm special. Not that nobody else is special, but just that I have something different to do that a lot of the people I know. The grass is always greener which is why for years now I've been aching to find companionship and start a little family. Wondering what's wrong with myself has been counteractive, I know, but inevitable in my limited understanding the great Plan.

Ha ha, I was just thinking that a plan is a plan. The plan is meant to be followed, but we are the ones choosing our own life's path that coincides with the big one. The general Plan is just that; our more specific plans less set, more fluid and definitely requires a lot of improvisation as we actually deal with road blocks, forks, floods and any other "life is a highway" metaphor impediments that you can think of.

It's been hard to accept that my plan is so very different from most others, I know. It's hard to not to take the consolation "good job, but you're meant for something else," because I don't have an immediate idea of what the something else is. Yes, I could go on a mission and save lives. Yes I could head off to New York to become the next big Broadway costume designer. I could settle down at a job in Provo until the end of time just waiting for that one guy to finally stumble upon me admist the thousands of others and realize that I am just amazing. But I don't want to do any of those things right now (not that a drive for those goals didn't get me where I am today). I don't feel like any of those things are what I should do right now and I have this almost indescribable feeling that what's next is on the horizon and I just need to be patient enough as I move closer to it...

Well, the sun is coming up and my eyes are stinging a little from sobbing over the whole first part of this. It's one sob closer to wisdom from suffering though and a nobler person to lament over could not be less than my mother. I've realized that the only little figurines that I display and the paintings I have are angels in some form or another. I did not realize this really until last Christmas. I'm usually not a theme person, I'm eclectic by nature. But I think its an unconcious way to help me feel for the presence of her and of Him that I yearn for. After all, through all this whenever I'm sad or lonely and cannot sleep I sing to myself "Angel Friends" from the musical My Turn on Earth and repeat perfectly in my mind my mummy's beautiful voice. It's nice to know that I have other-worldly beings who can still be my unseen comforters and lull me to sleep, taking me away for a little while to build up my strength for another brutal day in which I will hopefully come off champion.

Promptings and the subconcious hand...

So my sister-in-law subtly encouraged me to write a new entry on my blog. That made me feel important, like someone actually wants to be a witness to my life. Or at least ridiculous little tidbits that show up on a blog. I hope if you are reading this then I can offer you a complimentary wetting-of-the-pants. Not really that funny sorry, but that was.

Recap since I got locked into my house. I saw Iron Man. Then I saw the Hulk. Did not know that they were brother movies. The pinnacle of my happiness in the last two weeks, really...that gives an idea of my contentment, finding Robert Downey Jr. in cahoots with Edward Norton after 2 hours of fabulous action and love. I like the message of these movies: if you are greedy or creepy you will get dominated by a creature.

So yeah, I also auditioned as Marian Paroo for the Center Street Musical Theater. There are callbacks tomorrow morning and one of my lovely co-workers is staying later for me so I can go. I'm actually pretty excited even though I've heard mixed reviews about this theater, one of them being from my sister Katie who quit after a week of rehearsing as some kind of street urchin in A Christmas Carol. The other was from another friend who shall remain nameless (siblings don't have copyrights, sorry Katie), who said while they LOVE the people who own the company, but that their middle name is nepotism. It's aight, I haven't participated in unpaid community theater for 10 years and this was the last theater that had auditions for fall productions.

I talked a bunch with my aunt Sneebie ('Debbie' in real life, I don't even know the origin of the 'Sn' anymore) these last two days searching for some sort of assurance that my life is not in vain and that I will indeed find a use for my degree. Upon finding out that I just graduated many customers at the PPC will ask what I plan to do with my degree. I usually answer something vague like "um, I'll probably go into design or something," or even better I'll shrug my shoulders and say in irony, "work here" indicating the PPC. Sneebie and I decided that next time somebody asks me, "so what do you plan to do with your degree?" I answer, "Shut up."

I was pacified by this plan and thus could move on to other pressing issues in my life. We talked about my upcoming plans to audition for the Missoula Children's Theater touring company. I would stay here in Provo at least until next year then go live with the Sneeb until I left with the company. She's "tight" with the Producer/Owner of MCT so it'll be good to see the benefits on the positive side of nepotism.

I feel compelled to lay before myself and my readers/entourage my thoughts about a certain relationship that I've had for many years. You will all know who this is and so therefore I will keep him nameless as well. A few weeks ago I was talking with, let's call him, Mr. Z. explaining that I wanted to be free from him the way I was when the 3rd epoch of our relationship ended in a vow that we would never speak to each other again. It was devastating at first when that happened, but the ensuing months proved to be very healing as I thought about him very rarely and was able to feel free from his gravitational presence. I think the biggest magnet to him he explained himself when he said a few months ago, "People are drawn to me. they may like me, they may not, but they don't forget me and they will continue to think about me."

Mr. Z. earns the award for most quotable person in my life. Apart from that I realized he was right, but I decided that this was only so because people didn't realize that they were drawn to him. So what did I do? I didn't speak to him for the next 3 weeks. Did I think about him? Yes, he won on that point. But did he think about me more? Most definitely. It wasn't a contest, it was a test for myself that I could live without him if I chose. I didn't want to live without him, but I could jump ship when, not if, it comes down to severing him from certain parts of my life that he will not be noticed, will not be thought of and definitely not be influenced by.

There's a creeping feeling of insecurity that I will cave, I think this is where my bravery will be tested to the limits! The point for this whole section of the blog is to say that I started the severing process. First I told him he wasn't husband material as mentioned in an earlier blog, then I asked him a favor that challenged his "I'll do anything for my friends" motto. Asking a question favor like the one I asked changes things, however subtly. He didn't deny me the favor, but all of a sudden in one conversation our relationship was reduced to something much more business-like. It bounced back after that, but not to its full strength. I can't tell if I'm breaking it down on purpose by testing the strength of our relationship or if its the "freedom-from-him" mantra of my subconscious that made me ask the favor in the first place well knowing that it would cause some kind of disturbance. I am never content to leave well enough alone.

Phew. I need an editor for my blog. Feel free to leave a comment. Feel free to dis him, dis me for sticking around for him and congratulate me on drifting away. The encouragement could do wonders. But these are matters of the heart and my 'family' is the only thing I've got so I've got to fix it.

"How am I supposed to live without you?"

Don't know who this "you" is yet, but Heather my good friend informed me that "you" is nobody I know as yet. Question of the day: does infatuation have a negative connotation? Heather and Shana at work think that it doesn't, but they fully admit to never having been infatuated. Anyways on to more important news of the family...

Today I got locked into my own house. Yes you heard me right, locked IN. I dead-bolted my door this morning after I realized that I had forgotten to lock it before going to bed last night. Afraid that someone might come a burgling in the middle of my morning pilates routine in my jammas I decided this was a safe way to go. On my way to purchase fuschia thread and zipper for a 50s jumper that I'm making I discovered that what I had done to the dead-bolt could not be undone. Try and try as I might it would not budge. The next logical solution would to be to try with the key from the outside. So, I climbed on a kitchen chair and thrust myself out the kitchen window in my skirt and everything. No luck. I decided right then and there that if I had to climb in and out of my kitchen window for the rest of the summer, then so be it. I was going to surrender myself to the karma that has been plaguing my life for the last 25 years and has culminated into one of the worst weeks of my life.

I know not making to the next level on American Idol shouldn't have gotten me that down, and maybe I shouldn't have been so upset that my brother and sister-in-law decided to move two weeks early leaving me no time to play with Louise and Baby, AND I should have just accepted the fact a certain person that I had been interested in for a long time is not husband material. There's nothing like losing hope one little moment of life at a time. Patience and losing all expectation are the themes of my life so I shouldn't be surprised when I get locked into my apartment. What I learned today: Just because you replace an old sticky lock with a new shiny one doesn't mean you won't get screwed.

I am "moving on with my life"

As per the directions of the Prophet I'm not waiting around for Mister Wright anymore. So! I created my own family consisting of me. There is a possibility that someday this family may expand, but I am confident for the time being that it will be enough to sustain me. I know I'm going to have a lot of friends that are going to be like, "wait, why was I not considered a candidate for this fabulous relational conglomerate?" (my friends all have kind of a lot of vocabulary genius) but my answer is, better luck next time. Anyways, I think this is going to be good since I am able to spend some time on the computer a little bit everyday. This will be a place where I can test out my opinions without making a fool of myself in front of anybody other than my current immediate family (me)*. So yeah, here's my first official blog. My family's mission statement is to never make a boring blog.

*siblings of myself and my father do not count as immediate family anymore because I've made another, better family